#Flame Tamers

[frie-ice]

Although I still haven't got round to watching RWBY, part from the Justice League x RWBY: Super Heroes and Huntsmen crossover, it wouldn't be Pride Month without a collage on one of the top best Lesbian couples. Enter Yang Xiao Long and Blake Belladonna, aka Bumbleby. Unlike my other collages, I wanted this one to showcase moments between them, with Yang x Blake being a canon couple.

From what I could tell, this ship has gone by a large list of other titles than just Bumbleby. "Bumblebee", "BMBLB", "Hypersonic Lion Tamer", "Longcat", "Burning Shadows", "Blang", "Wasps", "Hornets", "Black Fire", "Black Flames", "Black Embers", "Golden Whip", "Yellow Whip", "Black Dragon", "Poisonous Dragon", "Amaterasu" and "Black Furnace".

[natsu7art]

The weakest tamer began a journey to pick up trash light novel: Sora, Flame, and Ciel

[astridhoff03]

After Reading the plotsynopsis to this books I think I finally found a book about Dragons and humans that could me reminding a little bit of my favorite Dragon-movie-trilogy. The core of this fantasy series seems to be the Releationship between humans and dragons. Which is fantastic to recover from Fourth Wing. Httyd-fans read that instead of a Romantsy were the dragons are not even in the Focus or are threaten as actual creatures. Forget Fourth Wing in that case. I think we all know who is the real Queen of Dragons alongside Cressida Cowell.

I started a reading sample about one of her book series that is called the Dragon Riders of Dracwyn and I‘m already excited to finally buy it and read the whole saga.

[mihotose]

staff said here we'll give you an au to make art of

[a-flaming-idiot]

Ah, the number of fandoms I wish I could write for but haven't found a proper idea yet. Every day I mourn the fics that can't be.

[nullians]

Ah yes, my beautiful son Nachtklinge also known as Ostrze Nocy and his boyfriend Flammenbändiger also going by Źrenica Lotosu 💕

[grillpartshub-blog]

Stainless Steel Replace Flame Tamers for Barbecue Gas Grills (Set of 3) Fits Compatible Models: Master Chef 199-4758-2, 199-4759-0, 85-3004-2, 85-3005-0, Nexgrill 6400-122390-115, Thermos 461320508, 461334813, 463322012 Gas Models. BUY TODAY!!

[minxchester]

YES THANK YOU @itsbeenmyhonor (and also fuck you for your username! :D ) LET'S TALK ABOUT SOFT DOM BRAT TAMER XADEN AND BRAT VIOLET PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

are we gonna talk about that part in IF where violet says "it's already snowing up the pass. i bet we get seven inches tonight."

and xaden replies "maybe more if you're good."

IF YOU'RE GOOD???? ARE WE GONNA TALK ABOUT THAT???? SOFT DOM BRAT TAMER XADEN AND BRAT VIOLET???? THIS IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME???

[just-some-user-hunny]

The Cannibal bonded with a bastard targaryen reader ...

This is heavily inspired by @mangled-parasite writings on their yandere hotd stuff. I wanted to go more in depth about the relationship a bastard princess reader would have with the cannibal, because the dynamics could be so diverse and interesting. The cannibal is a really interesting dragon to me as well, he's not been tames nor shows any interest in it, so I always wonder what he'd be like with a rider!

(fem! Bastard princess reader X the cannibal)

. If you are bonded to him, he would be ruthlessly protective over you. He can feel every flicker of distress and discomfort from you, and he bares his teeth like a guard dog at whoever draws too close. Once he had decided that you were his, and he was yours, his fury when it comes to protecting you rivals hellfire. You will never have to feel fear again, nothing can even dream of touching you- lest they want to experience the nightmarish wrath of the Cannibal. It matters little to him if this threat is human, or dragon. In fact he almost welcomes it. He loves the rush of destroying whatever threatens you, the pride that fills him when he charres their remains and feasts upon them In front you- because look princess. Look how mighty he is, look how well he can fight and protect you. After his gory feast, he'll lower himself close to your little form for his praise- purring till your blood fizzles as he enjoys your pets and attention.

. Cannibal has never been a tame or passive dragon, but around you, he'll make an effort to behave. He'll stave away his urges to salivate when he captures glimpses of the smaller dragons, if it makes you happy. He'll heed your voice, your words, if only to amuse you and keep you content. However, he still has a temper- and although he may not engulf everything with wildfire, he will surely growl and roar to make people bend their knee in your presence. His bond to you is tightly knitted, so he can pick up those who are irking you or upsetting you. He shares your hatred for your father, often bearing his frightening jagged teeth at the pale man who can only endure the monstrosity of his daughter's dragon. It'll take only your word to engulf him in burning emerald flames, so for once, your father will hold his tongue.

. He is not an obedient dog, more like a feral alley cat who's taken a warming to you. There's not a force in heaven or hell that can convince him to confide anywhere near the dragon pits, not to mention his monstrous size cannot even imagine squeezing itself into that little ditch. He'll take to sleeping upon the beach, preferably away from vhager, if he wants to remain close to you. However he is known to fly off and disappear for days on end, returning when you least expect it. He is a wild dragon at heart.

. He may not melt into a big passive puppy, but he will surely let you know he likes the attention you give him. He'll croon with his snarling scarred grin, his eyes glinting as you speak to him and stay close. The attitude he has around you is stark like night and day- with others he glares ferociously and mean, but with you, he's bound by your heels.

When you approach him upon the sand of the tide, he'll lower his head to gaze upon you. he'll feel content as he looks you over, appearing docile and calm in your presence.

Your family find it terrifyingly odd whenever you approach him with so much casualty, and he simply looks at you so fondly. The dragon who has devoured oh so many wannabe dragon tamers is now treating you like a precious little treasure, and it's both awe-inspiring, and frightening. His striking emerald green eyes focus on you as you speak sweetly and softly to him, his purrs can be heard from the dragonstone gates.

. The cannibal is an ancient dragon with many years of experience, so to him, you are little more than a child in his eyes. His child.

If anything, he is more of a loving father to you than Daemon could ever be.

It's puzzling to him, at first. He has never possessed a single maternal bone in his body, having no objection to devouring unhatched eggs and even young hatched dragons to satiate his hunger- but perhaps he sees a part of him in you. That wildness to stray, the desperation to free yourself from the thorns of the targarians that dig deep into you. You may be a little gentle weepy thing, but the fact still stands. You want to be free. He can grant that.

As you claim him as a child, he'll watch you grow. Watch your face and hands become weary from the anxiety and ache of constantly being caged. You'll gradually become more and more beautiful, dripping in gems and jewellery and ornate gowns, but the sadness in your eyes hasn't changed since you were a tearful little child. He sees what they are doing- trying to keep you satiated with material desires, but he understands you deep down that nothing of that matters. You want to be anywhere else but here...

. He is an old dragon, and has a temper to him. His hunger for flesh and fire has not made him weary, and although he is scarred and withered, he is still towering in all his obsideon scaled glory. Emerald flames engulfing the sky as you ride upon his back, soaring above the clouds as pride and glory consumes him. He always despises the idea of being 'claimed' and ridden like some show pony, but he finds himself enjoying the company of his little human experiencing the rush of gliding through the heavens. He can feel your thundering heart, the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as he dips and soars between terrific heights, and he can't help but grin a scarred and twisted smile, egged on by your delight of the views and freedom. Yes! This is freedom, my little princess. Let us not be chained by those targarians, this is what living is!

He certainly likes challenging you, obviously not to the point he puts you in any danger of course- but he'll dive at gut churning speeds to see what'll make you shriek. It's almost like He finds amusement out of it, perhaps getting a little kick out of challenging his rider. Once he has landed however with you safely back on the ground, he'll look at you with his gnarled smirk and expect just a little push from you. Don't take it to heart though, his princess. You'll get gently prodded and nudged by his snout to check on you to make sure you're alright. He is still protective over you, after all. His cruelty will not extend to your pain. Besides, you are more often than not riding him bareback, so he would never fly so recklessly that you'd get bucked off. Most of the time he's holding back, really.

. That is not to say that each time you climb upon his back that you will endure terror, because that is surely not the case. He loves flying with you, loves feeling your awe and wonder. It fills him with unbridled pride and ego. You can both feel freedom, and freedom is all he wants for himself and his rider alike.

. As his rider, you have a good chance of escaping the talons of your family. Who is to stop you? The mad prince, Daemon, and his blood wyrm? Cannibal could laugh at the mere thought of this deranged man challenging him with his little red pest. Even the one eyed prince and his ancient she-dragon, Vhagar, will be a welcomed challenge. When it comes to you, he'd do anything.

[lustlovehart]

Hard Stoned Gallery Dance

A/n: This was made like monthhsss ago, so I’m posting it as forgiveness for the lack of work i’ve been doing.

Pairing: [ Monster!Twst ] Malleus Draconia x Reader

Summary: Dancing is a beautiful past time, yet such a pretty act is ruined, when Malleus decides to let his affections for you run rampant. (Wc: 1.9k)

Warnings: Kissing & Licking, Murder/Death of Minor Characters (Not explicit), Possessive traits, Clinginess bordering obsession, a little blood, Biting/Marking

Your head leans itself on the rough surface of the stone wall. You’ve finished your objective for the day, so giving yourself this break is well deserved, ten minutes free of Crowley’s nagging is still freedom despite how it sounds. Your eyes can’t help but look up at the pretty blue sky, it stings to look at but you don’t mind the pain, seeing something so clear is worth it.

That cloud looks like a cat.

…

The taste of indulgence is quickly stripped out your grasp when the familiar sound of dragging stone resonates through the air, grating to your ears.

“Child of hunters, what may you be doing here?” His rock-hard face interrupts your view of the sky, green solid eyes look down on you as he casts a shadow on your visage.

Despite his body being made of pure stone, his eyes give a faint green glow, as if a bioluminescent moss grew there. His hair, his wings, and even his tail freely flowed as if he were just a regular Dragon hybrid. But alas, he is some sort of statue— Oh no not a statue, in his words a gargoyle.

You forgot about the difference one time and in turn, he gave you a 3-hour lecture on the difference between a grotesque and other gargoyles. Never again…

“I’m trying to hide from my boss.”

“Shall I be rid of him for you?” His mouth forms a little o as a small puff of a green flame releases from him.

“That would be a bad idea, I’d lose my source of income.” He quirks an eyebrow up at this., to be fair, you don’t think he has any clue what a “payday” is.

Despite his confusion, he lifts from his bowing form, a hand reaching out towards you in all its mossy glory. You’ve known him long enough to know what he wants.

A dance.

You don’t try to hide your exasperation as you take his invitation, albeit a bit slow. His stone body quickly pulls you up and into him. With how much tamer his form is compared to other beasts you know, it’s hard to remember that he’s part dragon, and even worse is part of the only few monsters who know magic.

So as of right now, this marks your third time dancing with one of the worst monstrosities currently on the bounty list. No maybe not one of the worst… From what you remember from Crowley’s ramblings (which isn’t much since you tune him out when possible) he’s probably the most dangerous.

You get the basic idea, but you’ve never truly seen for yourself why he’s considered so terrible. Is he not just a glorified water spout? Compared to a Kraken and an Incubus, surely his damage isn’t so grand to be warranted as the biggest beast to hunt.

“You’ll always be welcomed in my castle, you would not be short of accommodations either.” his hand rests upon your waist, pulling you closer than need be. His invasion of personal space is akin to a parasite leeching off its host, but you let him feed of you. Whether it’s from fear or a bond, you’re not decided.

Your movements are sluggish at best, but you can still remember the basic steps in the dance, your foot sloppily setting itself down where it should be, the occasional step on stone happening once or twice though.

“Considering the current state it’s in… is that even safe for me to walk in…? It looks like one good shout and the bricks holding the place together will crumble apart��”

“That is just the disguise we give it, as to not alert others of our presence. For you though, I’m willing to make it stand out if it makes you happy.” The hand lying on your waist retracts itself as he takes his other clawed limb and twirls you around, falling back into position when the spin is done.

“… I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll wait as long as it takes.” You know he’s not lying about that. You can distantly recall when a certain mystery monster had told you the tale of a longing dragon who perched himself at the opening of his window to wait for a certain hunter's return.

“Yes, he was so determined to be the first one to greet you, why he even stayed sat at the window for 5 months. It was quite endearing hehe.”

“Doesn’t it take hundreds of years for you to erode? Maybe it’ll take me 50 years to decide, by then I’ll be old and grey and you’ll be perfectly fine.” You take a step forward before the gargoyle's grip on your body tightens significantly, shrieking when he suddenly dips you down unprepared.

His freed hand takes your other arm and lifts it up to rest on his shoulder. Green sparkles are faintly flying around his lips as he slowly leans into the soft skin on your arm. His face leans in and presses chaste kisses on your limb, the gentle texture of his mouth catching you off guard as it tickles your body. Now you get it, he must’ve cast a spell to temporarily soften his lips.

He had attempted to kiss you once without taking this precaution, in turn, you gave him a face filled with discomfort at the stone texture that kept peppering you.

You can still remember the hurt face he had on when he saw your dislike towards his affections.

On his ninth kiss, his forked tongue peeks out from his mouth, licking a stripe up your skin. He finally lifts you up after the assault on your arm, his face only a few inches away from your own. It would’ve been quite the romantic atmosphere, had your nose not catch a sharp smell, and a horrible wretched one at that.

“You could be on your last breath and I’d still wait for an answer. But I hope that won’t happen.”

“Who knows, I work a dangerous job.” what is it?

The both of you twirl in unison despite the lack of music, your bodies in tandem as they move to just the sound of your surroundings. Though, your body is a little more sluggish than his own.

That stench… Is too familiar.

Eventually, your last steps fade out as you stop in your tracks.

“Is something wrong dear hunter?” Your grip on his shoulder fastens, if he was human you’re sure you would’ve broken his shoulder.

“What did you do?”

A smile is lit on his lips, his head tilting to the side, giving you such an innocent look, like he did nothing wrong.

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“The smell… Iron… This whole time I thought it was just the smell of the forest. But…” You swiftly pull a dagger out from your side, throwing it past his shoulder, the tip of the steel piercing into what sounded like wood.

He doesn’t turn back, only continuing to smile at you, as if you’re the only existing thing here, or more accurately, the only thing he cares about.

The bark of the trunk splits in half, falling to the ground, revealing the source of the stench. The top of the tree isn’t green, it’s red and brown.

4 pairs of hands stick from the leaves.

“You… What did you do Malleus–?!“ he’s quick to twirl you again, his grip on you tighter than it’s ever been. Despite your protests, he continues dancing as if you hadn’t seen anything.

You’re suddenly stricken with the memory of your first meeting with the beast, blood coating his mouth when he looked at you, pure admiration when he had finally met the muse everyone spoke so dearly of.

“Malleus, you—!“

“Tell me, dear human, was it not you who spared me?” He dips you down. “Was it not you who saw a beaten beast and allowed him to live?” He lifts you up. “Even as you walked away with a piece of stone you let go of one who’s rendered thousands over the years,” he pulls you in. “Dead” every action with your body is harsh, but not enough to hurt you, never enough to hurt you.

Because why would he ever wish to harm you?

He’d much rather smother you in affection, even when you’re exerting all your energy to kill him as he hugs you.

“It’s because you…”

“Looked so human?” He continues to keep you close, impossibly so, your skin melting into his, not from fawness, but fear.

“How did you know-“

“You’ve spared so many of us because we made you feel something in the moment,” he must be referring to everyone else… The look you gave him is dazed, caught up in the thought of every other monster you let get away. His fingers cage your chin in between them. “But don’t forget what we are.” Sparkles fly, temporarily blinding you.

When you open your vision, you’re greeted by the sight of Malleus, with the appearance of what he looked like if he was human, or at least similar to a human.

His skin isn’t rough and solid, his breaths are warm, and his hair is soft and pretty rather than a soft moss.

His eyes are a nice green, a pretty green. A color you would’ve enjoyed more had he been a human. Such a lively color shouldn’t be backdropped by crimson, yet, it is.

Behind him, several other trees collapse on themself, revealing the other tops, the same as the tree you had just seen. Views of stray limbs and vaguely familiar faces of hunters invade your mind, panic setting as you finally realize a question you should’ve asked long ago…

Why was Malleus so far from his castle?

Before you can react, your ears hear a faint whisper, eyes going heavy as little pings of thorns claw at your shoes. The last thing you see and feel, is his face leaning towards you, his finger loosening itself from your chin.

In a blink of an eye, he’s no longer the human you spared, but the monster you let escape back into the wild.

The fiendish of smiles is graced on his lips. Not because of evil, but because his smile, is so love stricken.

All because of you.

“Seems the little birdy fled the nest without permission.” Your eyes slowly flutter open, the familiar figure of a man bowing on top of you. “Now, I’ll forgive you as we weren’t expecting such a beast to appear-“

He’s immediately cut off in his sentence when a searing pain cuts through his chin.

“Augh—! How could you kick me after I spent precious time searching for you!“

“You’re the reason I’m here in the first place…!“

“I didn’t do anything!“ Despite your annoyance towards Crowley and all he stands for in your life, you can’t deny if someone had seen this scene play out in front of them, they would assume you two to be a father and his bickering child.

You attempt to stand to your full height, faltering at the pings of pain in your ankle. You suck in a breath, looking down as you nurse hurt skin.

There are briar thorns wrapped around your leg, a single rose adorning the stems, and a gentle green hue that contrasts the pure black of the floral life.

“Oh my, what were you doing last night?”

“… Night?”

“You’ve been gone for 36 hours my birdie.”

You don’t feel any different… Save for the prickle of thorns and fresh bite on your arm.

… Fresh bite?

Despite the indent, it doesn’t hurt, it’s like, he left it there as a reminder of your failures, at least to you. It could very well be his way of staking his claim on your heart.

“It’s a shame you didn’t get him when you could’ve, with your connections, you could’ve spared us a huge loss today…” you’re cruelly reminded of the people that lay to waste hidden in the trees. “We should let today serve as a reminder of what you must do.”

Crowley doesn’t look happy at the sight of so many employees who failed their jobs, yet he doesn’t look grieved either.

You… Truly, you wish you weren’t so softhearted during your missions. Maybe then, this could’ve all been avoided.

A/n: Like I said, this piece was from so long a goo, so i’m so sorry if the plot isn’t to anyone liking, but if it is, i’m happy you enjoyed it!!

[sinsofsummers]

logan howlett | h.c.

anyways. here's my intro to writing logan. enjoy these unedited, rambling thoughts. i personally loveeeee me some rabid, animalistic logan like in x-men (2000), so expect lots of that for this. some of these could turn into more detailed fics, so tbh just...let me know if u want one.

logan is a tits man. he loves to ruin yours.

it's like he's drawn to your chest at all times; he needs his hands on them so often that you've just stopped wearing bras.

he'll touch you absentmindedly, without taking his eyes off what he's doing. but like a moth to a flame, his calloused fingertips find your nipples anyway.

he also likes to use his claws on your chest—just enough to leave a thin red line after he's done with you. (once, he drew blood, and he's still not willing to admit the heat that it ignited in him. he doesn't think you're ready for that yet.)

you know he wouldn't hurt you—right? but logan's not exactly the reassuring type. so you just hold still and shiver as the sharp edges run over the swells of your chest.

he loves the smell of your arousal. good thing you're one nibble on your neck away from soaking your panties. at all times.

logan gets you to sit in his lap, hold your cigar for him, and then he'll lean into your chest to suck and bite on your tits.

he likes to see a combo of his claw scratches and beard burn on them.

he likes to bite you. obviously he won't leave you in terrible pain, but it's the marking of territory that he likes.

and logan can be mean. seriously. he'll take what he wants.

he doesn't necessarily mean to be unforgiving, but...he's quite the animal. bring back feral, unhinged, rabid wolverine.

he likes pet play (it's a dominance thing). being at either end of it. collar and leash vibes. calls you pup.

logan's always scowling. you tease him about the wrinkles he'll have when he's older, but it only makes them deeper as he frowns at you.

constantly growling. grunting. he rarely whines, because he rarely lets you take charge. when he does, you'd better strap in.

his claws come out when he's close, and he doesn't tease. none of this, "tell me what you want, princess," and "touch you where? use your words" bullshit. logan fucks. full stop.

he'll do you the courtesy of making sure you're ready for him, but with his heightened sense of smell and his inability to control himself when it comes to that smirk on your face when you know he's in a rut...

yeah. he gets right to it. he'll fuck you into a quick orgasm. and another. and another.

but occasionally, he loves orgasm denial.

"logan, i'm gonna—"

"don't care. hold it."

brat tamer!logan. he knows you can take it, so he doesn't hold back when you need to be put in your place.

free use!logan. he's a man of few words. sometimes he just needs you. and you're always willing to help.

he's not vocal during sex unless you ask for it. which you make sure to.

he likes to be very nonchalant, which can come off as inattentive. but it's just the fact that he knows you so well that he doesn't have to look at you to realize what you need.

you could go up to him while he's on the couch, cigar in his mouth, and just stand there. without more than lifting his eyes to you, he'll pretend to roll his eyes and guide you to his lap with a hand behind your thigh.

he'll hold his cigar to your mouth and wait for you to take a drag before you place it back between his lips wordlessly.

is this an exhibition kink vibe

he'll also just hand things to you in public, doing very casual, domestic things that he won't really acknowledge.

he'll hand you his drink to share, even if you don't like it. he'll offer you a bite of food off his fork (or his fingers).

every once in awhile you'll see his eyes watching you and you'll know. he's quiet, but it's that quiet display of dominance that will have your core weeping in seconds.

andddddd i'm gonna go REPENT!

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

Princess | Intro/ Part 01

There's more to it than what meets the eye.

Tags/Warnings: Wolfdog Hybrid!Jungkook, Showdog Hybrid!Reader, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Fluff?, Brat!Reader, Jungkook has major brat tamer energy, reader has some issues, mentions of depression

Length: 6.5k Words

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook hates loosing.

And that’s especially true when it comes to bets- because he also can’t really pass up any opportunity to show off and be the best at something. So when he took on the bet with Jimin, he didn’t think anything of it- after all, even if he lost, he could still simply teach that so-called ‘puppy’ Jimin was supposed to be working with a killer choreo and make his way on top either way.

What Jimin failed to tell him, however, was that you are an absolute menace.

Not only are you spoiled to high heavens and dressed head to toe in pretty designer pieces designed and tailored just for you, no- your attitude is making him want to throw himself into a busy road to be run over by any moving vehicle willing to do so. It’s been not even thirty minutes he’s spent in the meeting room, and he already regrets his big mouth with Jimin.

But maybe it’s just a bad first impression. Maybe, you’re just having a bad day.

“So, basically, we’ve got four weeks to make it work.” Your manager says, having finished his plan as he stands at the end of the table everyone is sitting at, you included- though you clearly do not listen to the conversations happening at all, instead occupied with a game on your switch console, decorated in plastic gemstones and cute stickers, sound not even all the way down as to not interrupt anyone.

Jungkook feels his blood boiling. Can’t you at least attempt to listen? After all, it’s your career that’s on the line.

“I’ll need the possible song choices she made, and I also gotta get a copy of the guidelines and what the judges generally look for. Doesn’t have to be today, but I’d like to have it before we start making anything up.” Jungkook offers, arms crossed. You’ve not even looked at him once today.

If he just went by looks, you’d actually be quite cute- you're clearly taking good care of yourself, and you fall right into the category of hybrid girl he’d see himself interested in- but your character seems to be the exact opposite, as you stare down at the small screen in your hands, lashes long, hiding your gaze a little from him.

“We can totally do that.” Your manager says. “I- uhm.. Are you okay with that too?” He asks towards you, and you simply take in a deep breath before you sigh, shoulders shrugging and head somewhat nodding. Your eyes however never break away from your game, instead, you just adjust your seating postition a little before you become completely detached from the situation again. “I’m sorry about that. She’s.. Having a bad day.” Your manager justifies.

Jungkook smells the lie right away.

“Practice will start at 7 AM then-” Jungkook starts, and that seems to catch your attention as your face turns into a frown. “-And we’ll practice the whole week, except weekends.”

“That’s too early.” You mumble, grumbling down at your game while your legs stretch out under the table, feet brushing against his shins. You’re not wearing shoes, only your knee-high socks, having discarded the slip on’s early on for no apparent reason other than comfort.

���She usually sleeps until.. 11 so..” Your manager starts, and Jungkook has to swallow a growl.

“8.” He says sternly, staring at you who scoffs down at your hands. “She’ll have to get up earlier then.” He decides, making you lift your chin a little, before you save your game, turn off the console and put it on the table, your arms now crossed as well as you finally, for the first time, look at him.

The fire in your eyes could seriously burn someone if it was to be manifested into a real flame, he decides.

“You’ll have to wait until I show up then.” You answer him, and his eyes narrow, feeling challenged. But before he can respond, your manager seems to sense the growing tension between you two, as he dissolves the meeting quickly to have you driven back home.

Jungkook however, can’t let go this easily.

“You forgot to tell me that she’s an absolute bitch.” Jungkook growls into his phone, sitting on his couch with the TV on but on mute. “There’s no way I’ll be working with her for four weeks without committing a crime.” He threatens, and Jimin has the audacity to laugh.

“Oh Jungkookie, don’t let her fool you!” He laughs. “She’s a literal angel, believe me. She just acts all tough.”

“Or she was just interested in you.” Jungkook denies. “I’ve spent barely an hour with her and I already know She’s gonna be a handful to manage.” He sighs.

“Come on now, she’s what? Half your size?” Jimin playfully exaggerates. “Just put her in timeout, big guy, and you’ll be fine.” He jokes, very much aware of Jungkook’s rather dominant nature due to his wolfblood. And while the joke is funny, it’s also a problem.

Jungkook doesn’t know if he can really stay calm while working with you. And his career could be over in a second if he so much as lashes out at you verbally- because no way would someone work with a hybrid choreograph or dancer who can’t keep his cool. He already has issues getting some gigs due to his wolfblood mixed in- one mistake and he can surely put his career to rest.

He really regrets taking on this bet now.

Hopefully this won’t end too badly.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You really do not turn up at 8 like he told you to.

He’s impatiently waiting in the practice room, your manager and stylist and other staff already present- everyone trying to get a hold of you with no luck at all. It’s only until an hour later that another staff member informs everyone that you’ve finally woken up, and that you’re currently on your way to the practice room.

Jungkook is pissed, to say the least.

If you work like this the entire four weeks, there’s no way he can manage to push a good choreography into your head that you can pull off properly on stage. And if you fail, it’ll be on him- and he just can’t accept that. Hopefully, you’ll warm up to the idea of actually putting effort into this.

Hopefully.

When you finally turn up, you don’t appear to be sorry at all- still somewhat asleep and in no way ready to start practicing anytime soon. Instead, you sit down and take out your breakfast to eat, while your stylist runs a brush through your hair. But what’s odd about this, is more or less that Jungkook can sense a total shift in energy right now.

It’s like they’re shielding you, giving him no access to you until they deem the timing alright.

And you just robotically eat your little breakfast, while everyone else scatters around you, rushing from spot to spot. Jungkook isn’t too sure what exactly might be happening- but then again, it’s also not unusual to see such a scene. You’re a showhybrid after all- meant to look pretty at all times and in every living moment just in case there’s a camera around. And he knows that the practice is going to be filmed occasionally for some behind the scenes content for your fanbase- which is why you have your stylist around in the first place. You’re just supposed to look like you’re not wearing any makeup at all.

No one wants to see reality, because reality is what everyone can witness if they look in the mirror. And that’s boring. That’s not entertaining. That’s not something to be jealous of, or something to admire.

In a way, Jungkook starts to feel a bit sorry for you. Do you ever have a moment for yourself?

Either way, the moment the cameras start running, you switch character almost instantly. Suddenly you’re polite, soft spoken and determined to get every step right- though your true nature does poke it’s head through on occasion, especially when you can’t get something quite right the first or second try.

“Maybe we need to work on how to keep to the beat first.” Jungkook suggests, and at that, you seem to break, sighing with an agitated groan as your tail unravels, falling limp behind you. He’s not seen this happen often- his best friend Yoongi being a dog-hybrid with a curled tail as well, who can be quite grumpy most of the time. But even he never has his tail this.. Lifeless.

It’s unnerving to see.

“I’m not lobotomized, mutt.” You groan, making the manager motion to cut the cameras for a second. “I can keep to a beat, you’re just shit at teaching.” You growl to yourself, sitting down stubbornly as you visibly try and mask the fact that you’re out of breath.

Truth be told, Jungkook isn’t technically a choreographer. He usually works with professional dancers or simply follows whatever he’s given by an artist themselves- so yes, he might actually be a little rusty when it comes to teaching others.

Do you have to be so rude about it though? No.

“Well we’re going around in circles like this.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I’ll get us something to drink. Try and calm down a bit..” He attempts to soothe your temper, as he leaves the practice room- mostly so that he himself can escape the situation for a moment.

He’s not sure what it is. Maybe your scent full of anger and fear filling the space so much that it feels like it’s drowning him in the room, or the fact that you always have to be so rude-

Wait.

Fear?

Alarmed by that, Jungkook walks a bit faster with the water bottles in hand to get back into the room- just to find you not there anymore, everyone looking at him as if they’re surprised to see him back already. “Where is she?” Jungkook asks, and your manager blinks a little, caught off guard.

“She went to get something to drink.” He states, making Jungkook frown.

“I said I’m gonna get us some. Why did she go by herself?” Jungkook asks. “She doesn’t even know where the vending machines are.”

“She said you were taking too long.” A stylist mentions. Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I was gone for not even five minutes?” He growls to himself, before he hears you enter the room again, a small juicebox in hand that you punch the tiny straw into. “Don’t just run off.” He scolds you.

You roll your eyes.

“Yeah alright, Daddy.” You scoff, walking past him to sit in a corner- actually facing it for some reason, your back turned towards everyone else.

“Ah, don’t be alarmed.” Your manager explains. “She.. Sometimes does this. We don’t know either why, and we don’t really question it either. Give her a few minutes and she’ll be right back to practice.” He beams at him, and Jungkook feels weirdly played.

Something’s odd here.

But it’s also none of his business.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

The next day, you’re not there on time again.

And despite the fact that Jungkook had told you no food in the practice room was allowed, you clearly disregarded that as nothing but background noise, while you take out your bag of foods in the middle of the large room.

“I said no food in the practice room.” Jungkook scolds, walking towards you to stand right in front of you, arms crossed. “and you’re also late again. Two hours to be exact.”

“You said no food.” You shrug, lifting up the small bag of puffed rice crisps. “That’s snacks.” You respond, making him narrow his eyes and clench his jaw.

“put it to the side.” He says. “You’re here to practice, not to eat.” He reminds you, able to talk freely with almost none of your staff around today.

“can’t practice on an empty stomach.” You respond however, letting yourself fall into your bag, before you take out your phone to scroll on it while you eat your snacks- crumbs already littering the floor. “Why’s your wifi so shit in here?” You mumble to yourself, when suddenly, the signal stops entirely. “Hey, your internet cut off-“ you start, before you spot him putting his phone down. “Turn it back on-“

“Since you’re acting like a brat, I’ll treat you like one.” He simply says. “wifi stays off until you practiced.” He scolds, boldly taking both your snacks and your phone from you to put it on a table close by, the act alone catching you so off guard that it has you frozen in place while you process it. “Do you want to get up yourself or do I need to help you with that as well?” He asks, and you glare at him.

“Touch me and I’ll sue you.” You threaten, and he watches you for a moment as if to see if you’re serious- before he decides you’re clearly not, with the way your tail slightly twitches, clearly needing to be consciously held down by yourself to not wag.

“Alright that’s it.” He simply tells you before he walks towards you, and much to his dismay, you let yourself fall limply down onto the ground as if you’re trying to become liquid. “You’re being ridiculous right now-“

“let me have the wifi again!” You just huff. “and my snacks. I’m hungry.” You argue.

“get up earlier tomorrow and have breakfast then.” He shakes his head, before he grabs your wrists to lift you into a sitting position. But the moment he lets go, you’ve flopped back down again, lips twitching.

Now your tail is wagging, clearly.

“so that’s what you’re after, huh?” Jungkook clicks his tongue. “too bad. I’m not playing your game.” He says, before he walks to the side where all his stuff is, changing his shoes.

“wait- What’re you doing?” You ask, watching him tie his sneakers.

“going home.” He answers without looking. “were clearly not getting anywhere.”

You sigh, groaning out lout before you angrily hit the floor-

Getting up to walk towards him, pulling his jacket from his hands before you let it fall onto the table. “I wanna practice.” You pout.

“What a bummer, princess.” He answers, taking his jacket back to slip it on. “I don’t. Now get your stuff, and then-“ He tells you, walking closer before he points to the door behind you. “-get out.” He demands.

And you just angrily huff at yourself, doing just that.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You fail to get to practice on time again the day after.

And the day after that.

But on friday, Jungkook has finally had enough of your poor excuses and frankly stupid behavior.

"Why is she late this time?" Jungkook asks your staff, jaw clenched as he's already frustrated again. You're clearly not taking this seriously, and he honestly doesn't know how anyone else has ever managed to work with you in any way.

"We're.. not sure." Your manager says, face showing his own shame about your behavior. "She turned her phone off, we can't reach her."

That's it.

Jungkook can understand a lot of things. You're used to being spoiled and having everything set in front of you on a silver platter- he gets that. Sometimes, people's minds can be poisoned by wealth and success. But turning off your phone? That's too far.

What if something actually happened? What if you're sick, in need of help, in danger? This is absolutely ridiculous behaviour, and he does not care anymore. "She said she lives in the city here, right?" Jungkook asks, and the manager nods. "Alright, where exactly?" He wonders, and a stylist of yours calls out your address.

And that sets him off even further- because you barely live ten minutes away from him. Which means there's not even a single reason as to why you would be late at all.

"What are you going to do?" Your manager worries as Jungkook changes his shoes and slips on his jacket, grabbing the keys to his motorcycle.

"I'm getting her myself."

If there’s one thing Jungkook hates, then it’s people isolating themselves just for their own convenience. It’s mainly due to his best friend years back doing that constantly- turning off his phone to get some quiet time for himself, until he actually did end up being in trouble.

And when someone tried to call him, and couldn’t get a hold of him, they just thought ‘It’s probably one of those days again.’

If Jungkook didn’t go against his better judgement, if he didn’t end up checking up on him despite his mind telling him that it was for nothing, Yoongi would not be alive today.

He rings your doorbell multiple times, annoyingly so to get you to stand up at some point. There’s no way you can sleep through that, especially when he starts angrily knocking onto your door. Suddenly, you open it, staring at him with eyes barely open. “What.” You ask, and Jungkook takes a look at you for a second.

You’ve clearly been asleep, but you don’t look rested at all- eyes barely open as you glare at him, and funnily enough, one of your ears is even a bit floppy- not quite entirely down, but also no standing as straight as it usually does. “You’re late.” Jungkook scolds. You attempt to close the door again, making him attempt something dangerous.

He puts his hand in between the door.

But, maybe Jimin wasn’t so wrong after all, because you immediately open the door again, now wide awake as you look at his hand, worried you might’ve hurt him. Only when you don’t find anything you push his palm back towards him, and cross you arms.

“Come on.” He says, nodding towards the hallway behind him.

“No.” You deny.

“What do you mean, no?’ he asks, agitated.

“I said no. I don’t wanna.” You answer, walking back into your apartment- and with your door left open, he takes it as an invitation to walk inside.

The second he closes the door and turns around, he’s in shock.

Cardboard boxes, trash bags, crumpled papers and wrappings all over the place. Shoes litter the entrance area, your coats are thrown over the chairs at your open kitchen which sink is filled with unwashed dishes. The windows are shut, curtains heavy as they hide the mess in your home from the outside world. It’s so dark that Jungkook feels like if he wasn’t a hybrid, he most likely wouldn’t be able to see where he’s stepping at all.

How long have you been living like this?

The apartment isn’t big, there doesn’t seem to be many rooms at all. After searching for a bit he finds you curled up in your large bed, pink bedsheets and blankets halfway on the floor while your little gaming console chimes and beeps while you play.

“..come on now, you’ve.. got the weekend off.” Jungkook says. “it’s just today-“

“I said I don’t want to.” You growl, face focused on your game. “now fuck off and leave me.”

Jungkook sighs. This really isn’t any of his business.

But somehow, as he walks back into the main area of the small apartment, he finds himself opening a new trashbag to throw away all the plastic strewn around. He puts your shoes in order, places the garbage bags in a corner to have them out the way, before he rips the cardboard apart to throw away easier later. He’s not sure why he’s doing that- maybe partially to annoy you and get you to get out of bed, or maybe because he pities you.

This isn’t just laziness. From the way you act, to the body language you scream out quietly, to the fact that you don’t seem motivated for anything at all.

This is something deeper.

“What’re you doing?” You growl from a corner, before you walk closer to rip the cardboard box from his hands, throwing it in a corner again. “I told you to fuck off.” You threaten, and he nods.

“heard it loud and clear.” He agrees with crossed arms, and you huff.

“Ears seem to be working then.” You snap. “the mistake must be in your brain.”

“I can assure you it’s working just fine as well.” He answers, and you snarl at that, distinctive canines showing.

“Then why are you still here digging through my shit?!” You bark at him, and he shrugs.

“Because no one deserves to rot away like this.”

It’s quiet at that, for a good moment. The only sound heard is the clock in the kitchen ticking, some faint rain against the windows, and a garbage bag slowly slipping a little from its position. And when it falls to the floor, he catches a short second of your eyes tearing up, before you turn around, looking away from him before you run off into your bedroom-

But the door won’t close with all the clutter, making you angrily growl at it while you try and somewhat pull it close.

Jungkook slowly walks towards you, to pull your hands off of the door handle, making you drop down to the floor in defeat, sitting right on your clothes that are laying on the floor. “leave me alone.” You cry to yourself, head low and hybrid ears even lower as you sit there, kicking away some of the clutter.

The wolfdog hybrid slowly squats down to your level, before he carefully moves a broken jar away from your leg and onto a small table close by. “What’s going on with you?” He finally asks, and you kick your leg again at that, a small box flying through the room.

“I just want to be alone!” You bark. “I don’t want anyone in here, I don’t want to go to practice, I don’t want to do this stupid contest, I don’t want anyone to look at me!” You complain loudly, and Jungkook would easily call this a textbook temper tantrum, if it wasn’t for your clearly desperate tears.

“did you tell your management?” He asks, and you scoff, sniffling.

“as if they care!” You huff. “it’s always just do this, do that, go here, eat that, smile, be nice, film everything.!” You tell him. “I want to go home!” You begin to cry now, hiding your face in your hands.

“Home?” Jungkook wonders, unsure what you mean. Isn’t this your home?

“I just wanna go home..” you continue to cry into your hands. “I wanna go see mom, and dad..” you mumble muffled into your palms, and Jungkook feels terrible seeing you like this. He doesn’t know you, but something is clearly not right. This isn’t acting, because your body language, your scent- everything tells him that you’re in genuine distress.

“Maybe you can visit them?” He wonders, slowly reaching out to put his hand on your knee, offering silent comfort that you, for now, seem to accept. “do they live far away-“

“they won’t let me.” You say. “they told them.. they told them I don’t wanna see them and that I hate them, and now they hate me.” You whimper.

“They?” the wolfdog asks, pushing some clutter to the side to sit down as well.

“the company.” You mumble. “because.. my dad didn’t want me to move away back when.. when I was still a pup.” You say. A pup possibly meaning that you were still underage. “and.. back then, I thought it was for the best. This was such a one-in-a-million chance..” you reveal to him. “I thought it was worth it.”

“Do they threaten you?” Jungkook worries, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“..They’re all I have.” You admit. “my.. my apartment. My money. My name. They own me.” You say, defeat evident in your voice as you slowly calm down again, tension leaving your body. “just.. leave me alone.”

“I cant.” Jungkook denies with a sigh. “not anymore.”

“fuck off-“ you start, grabbing at his hand, but he somehow moves it around, holding yours now instead.

“I won’t.” He sternly says. “Alright? I don’t know how, but I’ll figure something out.” He promises, and you look up at him with slightly red eyes, confused.

“Figure out what?” You ask, and he smiles.

“How to bring you home.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You’re very clearly not very happy about Jungkook currently cleaning your apartment with you.

You’re slow and sluggish, and you constantly complain about everything- and Jungkook can somewhat understand it. You’ve quite literally buried yourself in this little cave, having someone take it apart like this must be horribly uncomfortable. But it’s for the best- and you’ll soon realize that.

That doesn’t mean you don’t annoy him, still.

“Come on now, get up.” Jungkook scolds you, as he watches you sit on the couch.

“What?” You complain. “I’m cleaning.. under the coffee table.” You pretend, but he doesn’t take that as an appropriate answer.

“We agreed on one area at a time. We’re still in the kitchen.” He says. “now get over here and help me with the dishes. I wash, you dry.” He decides, making you somewhat reluctantly get up. It’s odd to have anyone in your apartment at all, since not even staff is allowed inside- you constantly find and make up excuses to keep them out at all times. This is your only safe space, after all.

The only place no one is looking at you.

“yesterday..” jungkook slowly says, putting another plate towards you so you can dry it. “..you said that the company owns you.” He remembers, and you nod. “To what degree?”

“I have an independence license.” You say. An independence license is basically a permanent permit to live on your own, and also work on your own. Basically, with it, you don’t need an owner at all. “But.. the company has full control over my finances and such. And they own my, you know, brand name.” You shrug.

“I meant it, you know?” He tells you, draining the sink of the soapy water. “I’ll try and figure something out.”

“Don’t bother.” You simply say. “it doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” Jungkook denies, drying his hands on a towel. But you stay silent as you put the dishes away in their proper places, not really sparing him any glance at all again.

Jungkook doesn’t really know yet how to help you. First, he wants to somehow get into contact with your parents and set things right again- maybe he can get their names and phone number from jimin who’s been working you for a good while now. And then, maybe they can help, too.

“I’m tired.” You complain as you sit down on the now finally somewhat clean floor, all the trash in bags and in a corner.

“You can take a nap.” Jungkook agrees, and you look at him with positive surprise.

“wait, really?!” You ask, tail wagging a little.

“sure. You’ve been working hard.” He approves. “and now that your couch isn’t cluttered, you can take a proper nap there.”

“Why not my bed?” You whine, disappointed.

“bed is for proper sleep. Couch is for naps.” He explains. “if you go to bed now you’ll just start rotting again.”

You stay quiet for a good moment, before you speak again, looking out the windows, curtains by now pulled open. Slowly, you walk over to the couch to sit down on, staring at your hands in your lap.

“I’m such a fuck up, am I not?” You sigh. “imagine if people knew how much of a failure I am.”

“You’re not a failure.” Jungkook denies, sitting down next to you on the couch. “just.. a bit lost at the moment.”

“Jungkook..” you say quietly, looking at his chest. “I really want to go home.” You admit, and he smiles softly.

“I know. And I’ll figure out a way, promise.” He offers, opening his arms. And much to his surprise, you take the invitation- even so much as to crawl onto his lap, leaning against his chest with your arms wrapped around him. It’s a lot more than he thought this was going to be, but he also can’t deny that this feels oddly comforting for him too.

And even though your tail is still limp and lifeless, at least you’re starting to open up. And maybe jimin was right after all.

Maybe you’re just acting tough.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Jungkook quickly learns that you really must’ve left home at a very young age- because you’re very much completely lost in translation when it comes to general tasks that fall onto someone when they live alone.

You’ve got no idea how to properly do laundry, you don’t know how to cook at all, and you have no idea what cleaning products to use for what. When he asked you if you had some window cleaner, you’d stared at him for a good second before you asked him why he can’t just use soap- and cooking in your book is simply boiling water for instant noodles.

It’s no wonder your apartment was in the state it was in. No one ever taught you how to look after yourself and your own home.

“Alright?” Jungkook asks while you stare at the washing machine with a determined gaze.

“put the clothes in, put the soap-squishy-thing in, close the door and then set it to that program there.” You repeat. Jungkook nods.

“But-?” He presses, and you stare at him for a second, thinking.

“But...uh..” you try and find an answer. “no colored stuff with white clothes? And no black with colors?” You try, and he grins, tail wagging.

“Good girl. See? You’re not dumb, you just didn’t know.” He praises. “now press start and then we can go laze around a little until it’s done.” He says, making you happily press the start button.

Something that Jungkook has noticed, is that the entire apartment seems oddly.. sterile almost, in that it looks and feels taken straight out of a magazine. You’ve got no thing personal it seems like, no blankets that aren’t a neutral color, no toys, no plushies despite you telling him by now that you love these things. Instead, you only really have your little gaming console and that’s it- your bedroom is mostly taken over by designer clothes and shoes, as well as all sorts of accessories. The bathroom contains shelves full of skincare for face and body, but everything else appears to be not at all to be your personality.

“You can get yourself some new blankets for the couch now that we’ve cleaned up.” Jungkook mentions, but at that you simply begin to pout next to him, legs pulled close to you as you slide down a little, slouching.

“Nah, they’ll say no.” You huff, watching the TV commercial play.

So you really meant it when you said that the company has full control over your money. He believed it might just involve big spendings, which would make sense- but it looks like it more so involves every single purchase you make instead.

“How long is your contract?” He asks, and you shrug.

“I think forever.” You say, flopping to the side, legs hanging off to the floor. “I don’t know.”

“Thats.. not legal.” Jungkook frowns. “did you never renew it?”

“Huh?” Your ears tilt towards him for a second. He still wonders why one of your ears is floppy these days. “..no. I don’t think I ever did.”

“I.. how long have you been with them?” He asks, and you hold your hands in front of you to start counting. And the more fingers you seem to add, the more concerned he becomes.

“Well, I uh.. wait, I left when I was..” you mumble to yourself. “and now that I’m.. I think eleven years?” You answer, looking at him.

The maximum contract length for hybrids is five years.

Five.

“I.. okay, can you do me a favor?” He asks, and you nod, slowly sitting up. “next time you’re at your company’s HQ, try and get a hold of a copy of your contract. But don’t tell anyone what you need it for.” He says.

If he can get a copy of whatever slave contract you’re under, getting you out of it will be easy. There’s strict laws for hybrids in place after all- one can’t just work them like pets, there’s rules every company has to follow. And that is the same in your industry as well.

“am I gonna go to jail?” You ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.

“No no, you did nothing wrong.” He denies, reaching out to pet your head- pleasantly surprised when you visibly accept the gesture.

Because he speaks the truth. You did nothing wrong.

You were simply used from the start.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

On Monday, jungkook is standing at your door, 7 AM.

And you really, really do not want to go with him.

“Come on now-“ he urges again, pulling on your fluffy sweater while you cling to the doorframe of your apartment building entrance, having just seen what exactly Jungkook uses as his preferred means of transportation.

“No, you’re not getting me on that death-trap, no way in hell!” You complain, escaping his grasp just for a second before his arms are around your middle, easily removing your fingers from the door with a smile sent towards the security guard as reassurance, before he carries your struggling body towards his Harley. “No!” You complain. “This is kidnapping! Abduction!” You cry out, before he puts the helmet he’d gotten recently on your head, hands fastening the strap beneath your chin before he gets onto the motorcycle as well, sitting in front of you.

And the second it roars to life, you’re clinging to him with arms and legs involved, resulting in Jungkook adjusting your grip a little to not strangle him.

Well- at least he’s not driving fast.

“I hate you.” You complain when he removes the helmet again in the underground parking lot beneath the dance studio, pupils still blown wide, cheeks a bit flushed.

“If you just got up yourself like a big girl, I wouldn’t have to drive you.” He easily tells you, helping you down from the vehicle. “we’ll do this again and again until you learn.” He explains, stepping into the elevator with you- still lowly growling to yourself, pissed off at his attitude.

You’re not a kid. He’s stupid.

But it does work, because at least you somewhat practice with him for a few hours, before you stubbornly lay down starfish style in the middle of the practice room, demanding a break- one he grants for once, even if it’s just ten minutes.

“I really don’t wanna go to that contest.” You huff, half of your face squished against the shiny floorboards. Jungkook slowly walks towards you, squatting down to flick his finger against one of your ears that’s again, a little floppy today.

“I know.” He answers, because he does still remember your outburst, devastating cries edged into his mind.

“Hey Jungkook?” you ask, as he absent-mindedly rubs your ear between his fingers, almost enchanted by the softness of it.

“Yeah?” He answers, noticing the way you clearly enjoy such a simple touch to the fullest. You’re constantly surrounded by people, and yet it’s clear that you’re touch-starved and just treated like a doll and nothing else. How lonely must you have been until now?

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask. “or a boyfriend?” You wonder, leaning into his hand with closed eyes.

“No.” He answers, unsure and most of all suspicious.

“nice.” You smile, tail wagging softly. “I’m your girlfriend then.” You decide, and he freezes.

“...what?” He asks, sitting down now, a water bottle next to his crossed legs. “You can’t.. that’s not how it works.” He explains, but you shrug.

“My mom and my dad didn’t like each other either.” You reply, staring at nothing ahead, chin on your hands. “they just.. got together out of convenience. Cause they were the same hybrid breed, and I guess didn’t have anyone else at the time.” You mumble. “love isn’t real anyways. I’m pretty- isn’t that enough for you to like me?” You ask, turning your head to look at him with a gaze so.. detached that it makes him feel pity.

Is that your view on the world around you?

“You are pretty.” He responds. “but that’s not a foundation for.. a relationship.” He shakes his head.

“I don’t mind that you’re a mix.” You shrug. “you’re handsome, I’m pretty, and I have money.” You say. “if we get together thousands will flock to your dance studio. You’ll be super successful. “ You propose to him. “doesn’t even have to be for long. You can just.. I don’t know. Spend some time with me until you get bored, and then move on.”

“No.” He denies again. You frown.

“Huh.” You huff, slowly sitting up. “whatever then, I guess.”

“Do you even like me?” he asks you, confused, and you shrug before nodding.

“You’re nice. A bit stick-up-you-ass, but overall nice.” You offer.

Jungkook just watches you for a second, in full disbelief at what had been done to you. Raised in a place of luxury, with a golden spoon in your mouth and lies fed daily to create the view you have on everything around you right now. No kindness without some ulterior motive fits your reality. Everything has to be convenient for everyone involved.

“I don’t want a relationship without love, no matter what I might gain from it.” He explains himself, and you roll your eyes, before you flop onto your back, arms crossed again as you sulk. “You shouldn’t settle for less either.”

“Yeah well I wont get that.” You answer. “no one wants me. They want.. her.” You say, while twirling the silver name tag from around your neck in your fingers.

Until he leans over you, body entirely covering yours for a second, causing you to become nervous and wide eyed at his bold move. He’s looking at your neck, and you’re sure he must’ve realized what’s in it for him- after all, everyone is out for something to gain.

His hands move around your neck, fingers warm. You close your eyes as his face draws closer, awaiting the inevitable.

When suddenly, the collar around your neck is undone, and pulled off your neck.

“what-“ you ask, eyes open again as you watch him still above you, now looking into your eyes, and no longer anywhere else.

“I don’t want her.” He says, referring to the name on the tag around your neck that’s now in his hand, pushed into the floorboards where he holds himself up.

“But I’d like to get to know you instead.”

[ervotica]

brat taming maybe with like dark!rafe???

pairing; rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings; dark(ish?), dub-con if you squint but no smut, public punishment, spanking, dom!rafe, brat tamer!rafe

a/n; not a clue what this is tbh but trying to get back in the swing of writing for my fav boy <3 rafe requests and concept discussions are open as always! i always wanna talk abt this boy <3

“Are you gonna fuckin’ quit it or am I gonna have to beat the attitude out of you, kid?”

You gurgle nonsensically when his thick fingers curl around your ribcage to pull you into his chest, thrashing weakly as the flat of his hand taps against your cheek to sober you. Goosebumps raise on your arms and legs— partially from the night breeze, mostly from Rafe’s cruel touch.

“Rafe,” you purl, voice rising three octaves and swollen lips parting into a silent gasp when a resounding crack permeates the chatter of the party. Your cheeks are aflame, a nasty welt already rising on the soft skin with the distinct shape of a hand. You crinkle your nose indignantly, pushing at his firm chest even as you go soft and pliant in his grasp.

“Wanna try that again?” he snarks, clamping your jaw between his digits to anchor your gaze to his own. “Quit it.”

“You’re a prick,” you hiss, your temper flaring. He rolls his neck, eyes fluttering as he groans.

“Okay, kid.” He slaps you again and your eyes burn, glossing over with tears. “Just remember you did this to yourself, yeah?”

Dewiness clings to your neck as he backs you against the nearest wall, indifferent to the stares of the other partygoers that crowd the vast yard. His head dips until his brow touches yours.

“Turn around.”

“Not here, Rafe,” you breathe, that bravado you had disappearing at his insinuation— to spank you raw in front of everyone. “Can’t we go somewhere else?”

“No, we can’t,” he mocks your whining cadence. “Turn round before I fuckin’ make you.”

You squeal when his fingers press indents into the fat of your hips and spin you, a corded forearm pushing on the back of your neck to hold your cheek against the wall.

“Count.”

“Rafe, stop! ‘s embarrassing.”

His lips press to the shell of your ear. “I don’t fuckin’ care if you’re embarrassed, kid. Count ‘em, or it’ll be worse for you.”

You choke a sob against the brick that grates at your skin, no doubt rubbing it raw, wrestling with the tears that slip down your flaming cheeks as he delivers the first blow.

“O-one.”

“Attagirl,” he murmurs, granting you temporary reprieve with a kiss to the curve of your jaw.

The next three come in quick succession, and you writhe, reciting the numbers obediently through the lump in your throat.

“Five.”

“Six.”

“Seven.”

By the eighth, you’re crying in earnest, any dignity you had somehow clung to slipping through your fingers as you sniffle at him with teary eyes.

His nose nudges at your cheekbone, his breath a ghostly touch against your scrunched features.

“Two more, kid.”

You swipe spitefully at your swollen eyes, lips pushing out into a pout as you fight back another onslaught of tears.

“Hurts,” you snivel.

“‘s supposed to, dummy.” Your ass is raw and you hiss and jerk as he delivers the last two before he’s finally freeing you of his grip, watching as you smooth down your clothes and drunkenly cuss and hiccup at him. He quirks an eyebrow in a clear warning that has the words dying in your throat, features crumpling further with every second he’s not consoling you.

Your lips are swollen, face flushed and ruddy from Rafe’s rough hands; you let him hike you up by your armpits and draw you into his chest, pressing your stinging cheek to his shoulder.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Feelin’ better?”

You don’t deign to answer, needling your way further into his warm body and going boneless.

“You’re mean,” you purl, muffled through the fabric of his shirt.

“I know. I’m awful,” he concedes, smearing a kiss to the crown of your skull. Your eyelids fall shut at the tender contact, such a stark contrast to the way he’s been manhandling you.

“‘s time to go?” you ask, limply twitching in his grasp.

“Yeah. Let’s go home, kid.”

[justalildumpling]

⇢ twin flame

synopsis: chenle was convinced that his two introverted friends were destined for each other so what does he do? bribe them to text each other of course ⎯ or alternatively, when jeno started to fall for an anonymous mutual friend of chenle's

pairing: jeno x fem!reader genre: social media au, strangers to lovers, college au, FLUFF, crack warnings: swearing, jokes about death, sexual innuendos, lowkey presence of a stalker, mentions of alcohol status: completed started: 6th August 2023 ended: 18th January 2024 update schedule: twice a week taglist: closed🤍!!

note: bye- this was meant to be a oneshot smau but turned into a mini series💀 this is the result of a jeno brainrot :((( i want to smother him in forehead kisses man :(

profiles 1/2: 6 baddies 1 child profiles 2/2: certified freak (7 days a week) chapter 1: introverted cat parents chapter 2: im *TECHNICALLY* not flirting😙 chapter 3: the simp and the beast tamer chapter 4: love presented through violence🥰 chapter 5: *AHEM soulmate😚 chapter 6: jealousy, jealousy chapter 7: balls deep in ice🥶 chapter 8: stay toxic besties chapter 9: eggs in my basket chapter 10: closeted SIMP🚨 chapter 11: “LJSHPTSD”😭💀🚨 chapter 12: let loose🤭 chapter 13: plan b😁 chapter 14: is jeno okay? (no, he’s rlly not💀) chapter 15: confession time🤨🤨 chapter 16: life is like a box of chocolates chapter 17: waiting for you chapter 18: 💥🍒👈 ?????? chapter 19: duck, DUCK, goose? chapter 20: was it really over? chapter 21: careful buddy🥰 chapter 22: lying, skill level 💯 chapter 23: dog with separation anxiety… chapter 24: to slay or to be slayed💀 chapter 25: stop it. get some help👍👍 chapter 26: my soulmate chapter 27: love island🔥 (finale)

bonus ! ⎯ the audio file

click here for : jaemin's spinoff

[queenie-avenue]

Take my hand, take my whole life too.

💌 ⤻ ft. THE CEO, THE CHEERLEADER, THE BASEBALL PLAYER, THE ACADEMIC RIVAL

—> Headcanons of an established relationship with the yanderes!

⤻ reader is gender neutral, reader for the cheerleader and the baseball player are the same, yandere, fluff (ignore the red flags), red flags (you actually can't ignore them), drugging, stalking, possessive behaviour, stealing of personal property, invasion of privacy, obsessive behaviour, photos without consent, slightly suggestive.

note: my first joint post with all the yanderes I have so far! this is honestly a celebratory post for me reaching a 100 followers. thank you so much for all your support <33 this post is very light on the yandere content, I'll probably make a post just inclusive of their more yandere tendencies. first post of 2024!

🦋 ⤻ archives

💌 ⤻ THE CEO, ADRIAN HOUDE

— Despite his professional exterior and PR-like smile, Adrian really melts for you. His love is passionate akin to a flame, and obsessive like a forest fire.

— Though he certainly has urges to tie you up and just never let you leave his luxury apartment, he is one of the most tolerant and sane one of all the other yandere characters.

— A gentleman. His grandma was a large part of his life, and he practically grew up with her teaching him how to treat a lady properly. He will never do anything untoward towards you and always asks whether it's okay to kiss you.

"May I kiss you?" He asked softly, his hands wrapped around your waist, his long pale fingers rubbing circles around your hip as he looked up at you expectantly. For such a ruthless man in the business world, he was like putty in your arms.

You smiled at him and nodded your head with a goofy grin as he leaned in.

Slowly, his lips claimed yours, suckling on your lower lip gently and sensually. His hands were bolder than usual, gripping you close to him on his couch. "You're such a gentleman." You whispered into his lips, making him smirk.

If only you knew the type of fantasies he had where he wasn't.

— His love language is physical touch. His hands always graze yours when no one is watching, his body pressed against yours in the elevator even when it's only the two of you. It's tamer at work, but at home, but the moment you get home, his hands are all over you.

— Prefers to keep the relationship private till engagement. His grandmother — sweet as she can be — is just like the rest of his family, judgemental when it comes to spouses. He wants to be in a place where no one can contest your love for each other. Even if they do, he's not going to change.

— Easily jealous. If you even breathe in the direction of another employee — regardless of gender because he sees anyone who interacts with you as a threat — he summons you into his office like it's time for an execution.

"Are you crazy?" He hissed at you, hands slamming you against the edge of his desk as he scooped you onto the glass table. "Doing that in front of me? Do you know how many documents I'm supposed to be looking through today?" He asked, not giving you the chance to answer by gripping your shoulders and hair, slightly tugging at it. It wasn't hard enough to be hurtful, but there was a slight sting.

His eyes were crazed as they darted between your lips and your eyes, glaring at them, as if trying to find a hint of interest in the person that had patted you on the back. What were seconds of staring felt like hours as his grip tightened.

"No, no. You're not leaving this office until I know you belong to me, and only me."

— Afterwards, though, he will be remorseful for snapping at you. He knows it's not your fault. You would never leave him, but he knows how naive you can be — even if you aren't — so he just wants to protect you! Everyone else is in the wrong, clearly.

Adrian's hand soothed down your back as he kissed your cheeks. "I'm sorry, mon chéri." He whispered as he ducked his head back into the curve of your neck. "I know I wasn't being a gentleman by getting mad at you... this isn't how my grandmother raised me to be." He sighed, disappointed in himself.

"It's fine." You promised, even if you were still a bit shaken up by his terrifying behaviour.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

How sorry could he actually be, though? He always did this and he always enjoyed the blush on your face afterwards.

— Although he buys you your favourite flowers, he does typically buy you roses as well. He is a traditional man, after all. (Unless you dislike roses, like me-)

— His nicknames for you are a mix between endearing English nicknames and romantic French Nicknames that make you shiver whenever he speaks: My love, my muse, little dressmaker, mon chéri, mon ange, chaton.

— If you can't tell, all his nicknames typically have 'my' in front. It's a subtle way of possessing you all for himself.

— Even if you both lived together, he would still steal your belongings like you had no idea he had a crush on you. Specifically, pens or your lotion or perfume if you use any. If you have journals, just know that it will be stolen to be read through once every week. Every thought belongs to him; all of you belong to him.

"Don't forget that, mon ange."

💌 ⤻ THE CHEERLEADER, KATIE WILLIAMS

— Always drags you to her games. However, she makes it very clear that you're there to watch her, not the team.

"Were your eyes on me the entire time, pom-pom?" She asked eagerly as she leaned against you, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.

"You weren't looking at Jesper, were you? You're only allowed to look at me, okay?" She insisted as you nodded, too tired from the cheering you did for the cheerleader to protest.

— Every weekend, she insists on a date. It doesn't need to be a fancy place but it can just simply be cuddling on the couch and watching a move. (Psst, her favourite movie is Jennifer's Body.)

— She can't cook very well, but she'll try, just for you! Most of the time, it's you who has to take over the cooking, though. Honestly, you're much better at cooking than she'll ever be. If you manage to burn water, she'll somehow catch it on fire.

— Very decent at baking, though! She likes making cookies for you. Which may or may not be laced with some sleeping pills. Or some other drug that will make you more... relaxed as she snoops through your belongings.

— Her nicknames for you are all very cutesy and girly, to the point some of her teammates cringe at them: pom-pom, kitten, cinnamon roll, sponge cake.

— Her love language is words of affirmation. She just loves praising you, okay? She just needs to praise you. I mean, you're literally perfect.

"Your hair is like- so pretty." She commented, playing with your locks of hair, running her fingers through it as her eyes focused on each strand; obsessed. "I can't believe I'm dating someone with such nice hair." She blurted out, which made you laugh.

"What?" You chuckled.

"You know what I mean, I just love you so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"I feel sorry for you if that's the case." You attempted to joke, but for the next hour, she made sure you knew you were the best with her actions and words.

— The easily jealous type. When she's jealous, she wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you in, making sure you can't escape.

— Likes to spray perfume over your clothes so everyone knows you belong to her and only her. She goes to crazy lengths to ensure no one has the same perfume as her so that it'll be clear who you are with.

"Oh? You think [y/n]'s copying my style?" She asked one of the cheerleaders, a giddy smile on her face. "Why?"

"I mean, I get that you're their girlfriend, but she's kind of smelling like you now too. Isn't that a bit creepy?" Katie simply smiled at the comment and told her to mind her own business. How dare someone insinuate that you're creepy? Even if you were creepy, she'd love you. Like a small thing like that could stop her.

💌 ⤻ THE BASEBALL PLAYER, JESPER HARGREAVES

— The definition of a golden retriever. He is always clingy to you, and wants your attention almost all the time.

— Of all the characters, he is possibly the one who will resort to violence the most when it comes to you.

— His love language is a mixture of quality time and physical touch.

"Where are you going?" Jesper whined as he tried to grab at your waist. "Don't leave... I only just came." That was a complete lie, Jesper had been here with you for hours, skipping practice just so he could hang out with his darling.

"I need to get to the library to study for this test." You tried to reason with him.

"The library? But you can just study here! I promise I'll be quiet, and I won't bother you!" He whimpered, gripping onto you tighter.

"Fine." You sighed as Jesper got his way again.

— Whenever you come to watch his practices, he makes sure to work extra hard just to impress you. He's the star athlete, so he's already the best on the team, but everyone can tell he works harder when your eyes are on him. If you're not there, he'll slack off a bit so his team has to make sure that you're always there when it comes to matches or they'll lose.

— After matches — despite the fact he's drenched in sweat — he will always come running up to you, irregardless of whether you like it when he hugs you when you're sweaty or not.

— Will and can beat up someone for you if they disrespect you. He's a sweet boy, but only for you, he can be quite brutal when you're not there.

Jesper looked down at the bruised guy beneath his foot. "Touch them again, and I'll make sure I'll give you a matching black eye, asshole." He hissed.

— Jesper likes to fold origami flowers for you. Of course, there's also variety in what he makes, but if you have a favourite flower or animal, he'll always make some and place it on your desk. The question that remained was how did he manage to do that before you guys got together and you gave him the extra key to your dorm?

— If you ever blame him for anything or you get antsy with him, he just assumes it's either he did something wrong or your friends said something about him to make you not like him.

💌 ⤻ THE ACADEMIC RIVAL, SEO MIN-JUN

— Will honestly be the most loving thing there is on the planet to make up for all the bullying he did to you.

— Probably manipulated you into dating him, to be honest.

— Despite how it may seem, Min-jun pays a lot of attention to you — it helps with the fact he stalks you a lot — and will often pick up on your wants and needs before you even know it. Sometimes, when you're hungry in class, he'll slide over your favourite protein bar or a piece of honey candy from a brand you like.

— Korea is huge on fashion trends and while Min-jun is rather neutral about it all, he insists heavily on wearing certain things that are typical 'couple-matching' with you.

"I got you something." He said, dumping the small gift bag on your desk, his eyes narrowing as you looked at the bag with curiosity.

"Can I open it?" You asked meekly, still a bit concerned with how sweet he was acting now that the both of you were... dating. He nodded his head, and you fished out a pair of matching rings. Knowing your boyfriend's pride, the diamonds on them were no doubt real.

"You'll wear them, won't you?" God, he was still scary, even after being tamed by being your boyfriend.

— Will introduce you to his parents fairly early on. He wants to make it clear that both of you are dating to get married. Nothing less.

— His love language is probably acts of service with a mix of gift giving.

He slid a pen over to you. "I heard your pen broke because you stupidly stepped on it. I got this made especially so it won't snap that easily.

"Unless you're that idiotic to be able to break even this material." He sighed as he rested his head on your shoulder, only quickly shooting up when he realised both of you were still in class. Darn it, you and you stupid face!

He had a reputation to uphold, you know!

— "Study sessions" almost everyday, uh-huh. Right. Sure, both of you study for maybe three hours but then the moment the clock his the three hour mark, it's time for him to bully you with his addictive kisses.

— His kisses are honestly a bit sloppy. Can you blame him? He's never had a partner before, he used to be so focused on studies before you stole his attention.

— No matter what, he is still competitive with you, and his mean side can slip out. Especially when you anger him.

"Are you making fun of me?" He hissed as he pinned you against his king sized bed, his legs over yours to ensure you do not escape him. "Answer me." Min-jun seethed as he used his free hand to grip your chin tightly.

"Look at me. Answer the question, yeo-bo."

— He knows that he's a catch, but he refuses to let you interact with anyone that you could possibly be attracted to. He goes crazy to the point of actually warning other students to not interact with you, isolating you so you'd only be with him.

— His nicknames for you are: yeo-bo (a term of endearment used between married couples in korea), my rival. He has the least nicknames for you.

[ghost-1-y]

Sabotage

Trickster!Sanemi x Fem!Tricked Princess!Reader

Content Warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, dubcon(?), unprotected sex, penetrative sex (f! receiving), oral sex (m! and f! receiving), fingering, handjob, Sanemi can clone himself, double penetration (therefore anal), HEAVY degradation, brat tamer!Sanemi x bratty!reader, Sanemi has an olfactophilia kink, masturbation (Sanemi), spanking as punishment, overstimulation as punishment, lots of dumbification, mentions of breeding/pregnancy, multiple creamp!es, Sanemi is mean in this, Sanemi points a knife to reader’s throat at some point (he doesn’t draw blood), mentions of food, mentions of dead animals, reader is a spoiled, bratty princess, brief mentions of homewrecking (not acted upon), mentions of a future arranged marriage, Sanemi plays “tricks” on reader, lmk if I missed anything!!

Word Count: ~15k

A/N: apologies for this taking literally forever for me to post, I went through a period of burnout and have been in classes these past two months. Also, apologies for this being so long, the plot got ahead of me and it ended up becoming my largest fic to date, but I do promise smut at the end (as you can probably tell by the content warnings lmao). Also please be nice I’m sorry if this fic is actually awful lol :')

Divider Credit: @/cafekitsune

The sound of crystal heels against marbled stone were followed by head turns of maids and servants as you walked through the long corridor, bowing or curtseying as you passed, soft murmurs of your highness and my princess uttered in haste before returning to their duties.

Everything was as it should be: polished gold-framed paintings and chandeliers lit with gentle flames above, ornate silver door handles grasped by armored knights as entrances opened for you time and time again, strolling up rounded stairways and into the throne room – where your father, King Ubayashiki, and his wife, Lady Amane, sat.

The sun was orange through the glass panes that decorated the palace walls. Rainbows scattered across the palace floor, and fractals of light beamed at varying angles which made the golden thrones glimmer with radiance.

“My dear child,” your father smiled gently upon you, “I am glad to see you in good health.”

He was flanked by a line of his advisors on his left side, most of them old and feeble, except for one: a quiet ravenette with eyes which beheld endless pools of deep blue – Tomioka, you believed his name was. 

Tomioka was quite handsome, yet always expressed disinterest in the matters discussed at these sorts of meetings – today, he decided to forgo usual etiquette by holding his head up by one of his fists, eyes taking in the grandeur of the throne room rather than being focused on you – as the rest of the advisors were.

“Father,” you curtseyed – forcing your eyes to pry away from the young advisor, “I reciprocate your sentiment. I am glad to see you well.”

He chuckled, “Your words are much appreciated, but I’m afraid they are not true. I have come down with sickness, and our lovely doctor here–” he waved towards his left, referring to a rather beautiful woman with dark hair and violet eyes who sat further away from the line of advisors, “–Lady Kocho, is doing her absolute best to treat me, but, it has made me realize a few things, namely how very brief our lives are on this earth, and–”

“Father, with all due respect, what have you summoned me for?” you asked, impatience seeping into your tone.

The king sighed, “I need you to be married, my dear child.”

“What?” you exclaimed, “no– I don’t want to. You cannot and will not force me to do such a thing.”

Your father sighed, “that is why, my dear, that we are going to be holding a masquerade ball on the next full moon – which, I believe, is five days from now. We have also decided that, due to time and the uncertainty of my sickness, you will be wed on the very next day.”

“What the hell is a ball going to do? Do you believe I’ll just suddenly meet the love of my life while dancing with a masked stranger?”

“That is not the objective, my dear, I wish for you to get to know the princes from nearby nations, and I believe a masquerade ball is perfect to learn personalities without any bias. Whomever you get along with most, as well as whoever I believe will be most fit as a king, will be the one whom you marry.”

“Well, I wish you luck in making me attend, because I refuse to entertain this idea you’ve thought up. You haven’t even given me a reason as to why I should plan to be married.”

There was tension amongst the members of the advisory council, with even Tomioka paying closer attention to your rather loud grievances.

You could almost feel his azure eyes boring into your soul.

“My dear child, even though I am your father, you must remember that I am also your King, and you will do well to remember that,” he said quietly.

“So, what? Are you going to have me thrown into the dungeons if I don’t comply?” You crossed your arms as you glared down at him. “You can’t possibly be serious–”

“That is not what I wish for, my child, but you must be responsible to your kingdom and do what I ask of you. One day, I will no longer be here, and you will need to step up and take the throne once that happens. This is the first step towards that end.”

“I don’t care about being responsible to the kingdom! They must bow to me anyway, the reason for their subservience is none of my concern.”

If you weren’t consumed by your fit of rage, you might have noticed that to your right, for a fraction of a second, the hue of the handsome ravenette’s eyes turned from a deep blue to a stormy purple.

“My child, you must learn that people do not bow blindly to the throne. They bow out of respect for a leader that makes decisions which keep them in mind.”

“They should respect me regardless. I’m their princess. That should be enough for them.”

You did not wait for your father to continue his lecture, as you stormed out of the throne room and marched back toward your chambers.

—

Upon entering your bedroom, a fireplace had already been lit – its crackling flames providing just enough heat for one’s slumber during a mid-winter night.

You sat down on the edge of your rather large bed – a mattress as soft as clouds, and sheets of the finest silk which was woven with royalty in mind. You kicked off your heels, scattering them halfway across your cozy living space – not caring to put them away properly – the help was there for such chores, anyway.

Your lady-in-waiting – you believed her name was Kanroji – knocked upon the carefully carved wooden doors of your chambers, before entering upon your command. She gave you a soft smile and curtseyed before you.

“It’s a wonderful evening, my princess, I hope today treated you well,” she greeted, and you gave out a loud sigh before flopping onto the mattress, a pout visible on your face as Kanroji picked up your discarded heels from the floor and placed them in their proper spot. 

“Kanroji–” you elongated the last vowel of her name, “today was awful. Can you believe my dad possessed the gall to summon me today? And for what– to discuss marriage?” you groaned, “If I could, I would’ve wiped that everlasting smile off of his face for making me go through all of this!”

“My princess, that is no way to speak about your father, much less your king,” Kanroji lightly scolded you, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m sure his reasons are sound. I understand if you find the idea rather, well, uprooting I should say, but–”

“–But nothing!” you exclaimed, exasperation evident in your tone. “I don’t want to be responsible for the people, especially if it’s at the expense of my own losses!”

“Princess, with all due respect, they are your people,” Kanroji reminded you, “being a princess doesn’t exempt you from responsibilities.”

Rolling your eyes once more, you grumbled out a “whatever,” and sat up on your bed to face your lady-in-waiting.

“I’m sure that it was at least nice to speak with your father, no? Considering how busy he is and all?” Kanroji asked with a smile.

“Not really,” you groaned, “but I did get to see that one cute advisor he has, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”

“Are you referring to Lord Tomioka, my princess?”

“Who else? The rest of them are old as shit– you think I’d fall for Urokodaki? Or – god forbid – Kuwajima?”

“A princess must not use such foul language, your highness,” Kanroji chided, “although I must say that I never expected you to fall for those…older men.”

You sighed in annoyance, “technically, I can do whatever I want, Lady Kanroji.”

“Unfortunately, Lord Tomioka is already married to the royal doctor, Lady Kocho,” Kanroji ignored the tone of your voice, “perhaps it would be wise to listen to King Ubayashiki’s words and look for a potential suitor at the next royal ball?”

“I doubt he has that much love for her,” you muttered, “perhaps I could pull Lord Tomioka aside during the festivities and–”

“Your highness, with all due respect, you will do no such thing,” Kanroji admonished you.

“But I’m the princess, Lady Kanroji, surely he’d see that as an opportunity for upward mobility, no?”

Kanroji sighed, deciding not to push the topic further. She motioned for you to stand up so she could undress you. You turned your back to her as she started untying the strands of your outer bodice, before removing it and working on the following layers to place them into a soiled linen basket.

“My princess will wash her face before heading to bed, we don’t want any bad air to ruin your perfect skin,” Kanroji urged as she helped you into your night slip.

“You don’t need to treat me like I’m five, Lady Kanroji. I know how to take care of myself.”

Kanroji schooled her expression from that of a tight-lipped smile to one with gentle radiance.

“Of course, your highness.”

You headed to your bathroom, but, rather than washing your face by yourself, you merely sat down on a cushioned chair beside the door. Kanroji followed, obtaining a washcloth made of the softest cotton and dipping it in water which she had warmed prior to your arrival. She dabbed at your face, removing any excess dirt or sweat which built up throughout the day, before lathering some soap into the cloth and gently applying it to your face, before rinsing it away with more water.

After she patted your face dry with another towel, she handed you your toothbrush and paste, and, after you had finished, provided you with water and a spit cup so you could rinse out your mouth. 

“My princess seems to be all ready for bed now, let’s get you cozied up for the night.”

She led you back to your bedroom, and you buried yourself in warm blankets, choosing not to respond as she blew out one final candle and bid you a good night.

—

The following day, upon your wake, the birds outside of your window were surprisingly quiet. You’d quite often awake to the chirps of songbirds and hoots of mourning doves, which would rise you out of your restful sleep. 

You stood up from your bed, and walked over to your wardrobe, excited to see if the maids had fully cycled your favorite dress through the laundry – one which had been inspired by your own confidence, merely amplifying everything desirable about your figure. It exemplified your wealth, your status; it brought you up into the clouds of materialism as others looked up at you in pure awe.

However, upon opening your wardrobe, you were shocked to find yourself looking at the wooden backing of the closet rather than your endless amounts of clothing that usually hung from the racks – something that you had not laid eyes upon ever since you first received the piece of furniture.

“Kanroji!” you yelled for your assistant, who, despite being summoned, still had the courtesy to knock upon your door before entering.

“Is something wrong, my princess?” she asked delicately as always, yet her honeyed lips did nothing to calm you down.

“You did this, didn’t you?” you accused her as you waved your hands haphazardly towards the empty wardrobe, “why do I not have any clothing to wear?”

Kanroji looked at you in pure confusion, before walking over and gazing upon what you were talking about. She sighed, “I didn’t do this, your highness, perhaps one of the maids went to wash all of your clothing and forgot to return it?”

“Why would they think to wash clothing which hasn’t been worn!?” you argued, “what should I do, then, if I don’t have anything to wear?”

Kanroji pondered for a moment, before seemingly coming to a solution.

“Well, my princess, if you would be so kind to take into consideration this idea I have, I may have a solution–”

“Just spit it out!”

Kanroji sighed, trying not to be taken aback by your rude behavior, “I believe we have extra clothing which is usually reserved for the royal staff. I could go fetch one for you if–”

“So I am to wear a servant’s clothes? To dress myself as a peasant?”

“No, my princess, the royal staff uniforms are hardly clothing meant for a commoner, they are still made of fine quality fabric and are sewn by the best seamstresses in the kingdom.”

You rolled your eyes, “fine, but only because there’s no other choice. Bring me the peasants’ clothing.”

Kanroji turned on her heel and left your room to fetch the uniform, leaving you to walk around your room in silence. After pacing around for a few minutes, you went up to your window, where a songbird had made its nest and laid its eggs.

You had asked time and time again for the staff to remove the nest, as it was partially obstructing the view of your garden, yet they hadn’t gotten around to it, it seemed.

However, today, the nest was completely empty – not a bird nor egg in sight.

“Princess, I’ve gathered a uniform set in your size,” Kanroji said behind you, prompting you to turn your head.

“Give it here.”

She handed you the folded clothing, and you held it out in front of you, inspecting it with expressive disgust.

“How am I supposed to put this on? It’s too frilly and complicated.”

“Allow me, your highness,” Kanroji muttered, before taking the uniform and having you step into it, buttoning it up and smoothing out the skirt.

“You look beautiful as always, my princess,” she smiled at you.

“I’d hardly say that,” you grumbled, “take me to my gardens, won’t you? I need some fresh air after this whole–” you waved your hands trying to find the right word, “–mess.”

Kanroji nodded, “of course, your highness.”

She led you through the winding corridors of the castle, and, as much as you preferred being the one leading, today you were almost hiding yourself behind your assistant – not wishing for anyone to look down upon you for the clothing you wore.

Yet, after a while, you realized that no one spared a second glance toward you. Not a single maid, nor servant, bothered to bow or greet you as you walked by. Easily offended by their lack of etiquette, you caught up with your lady-in-waiting, Kanroji, and whispered harshly into her ear.

“Why are they not greeting me? Usually they bow upon seeing or hearing me walk by. I have never seen such insubordination in my entire life–”

“My princess, it may be due to your clothing. You are wearing quite an unusual outfit for a royal today, and they are quite busy with setting up the decorations and such for the ball. I plead with you to be patient with them, your highness.”

You huffed, but remained silent after hearing her reasoning, your shoulders hunched in annoyance as Kanroji led you outside.

Your garden was one of the more peaceful areas of the palace. It was strategically placed so that you could view it from your bedroom window, a hectare of greenery reserved just for yourself. It caught the rays of sun through the early morning to late evening, with a rather beautiful fountain built in the very center of it made of marble, sculpted with three tiers that had water flow down into a rounded reservoir. The reservoir itself had sculptures sitting on the edges of the fountain – with one of the notable figures being that of Icarus.

Along the border of the garden, white and purple hydrangeas bloomed in the late morning sun, which gave way to various other floral species. It was all proper and organized, each plant having a designated area for it to flourish in. Walking further into the garden, you held out your hand to trace your fingers along the petals of buttercups, a flower which had always been one of your favorites – its delicate appearance attracting you to it. 

You approached a small gazebo that found its place on the edge of the garden, a shaded area for you to use should you grow tired. Taking a seat, you exhaled slowly, recollecting yourself from the earlier mishap that was out of your control, almost entering a sort of meditative state. Your thoughts, however, wandered, and eventually led you to your fathers words of having you become married.

“Lady Kanroji?” you asked, and she smiled kindly at you – just as she always did. It was a rather comforting sight, to have someone so close that didn’t seem bothered by anything in the entire world.

“Yes, my princess?”

“Do you ever feel like…your life is out of your hands? Like you’re starting to lose control?” you asked, voice slightly uneasy as you turned your head away from her, deciding to rather admire flowers which neighbored the bench you sat on.

A bumblebee flew past you, its fat little body buzzing between flowers, working hard to pollinate each one.

“Well, yes, everyone does– but, what is making you feel this way, your highness?”

“I mean, look at this bee here– it probably thinks about nothing but how it needs to pollinate flowers and collect nectar for its hive – wherever that may be, right?”

“Of course, princess,”

The bee landed on a lone calendula, burying itself in pollen, before taking a quick moment to rest before flying off to another part of the garden.

“I wish my life was more like this bee. I wouldn’t have to worry about anything except the task in front of me.”

“Princess, is this about the clothes in your wardrobe being missing this morning?” Kanroji inquired.

You shook your head, “no, I’ve accepted that as a small mishap. I’m more worried about how my freedom might be taken away from me, with being married soon and all, especially to someone that I—”

“—that you know nothing about?” Kanroji finished for you.

You nodded, before eyeing a blooming foxglove plant, approaching it and plucking a single flower from its stem, twirling it in your hand as you admired its range of colors. 

“I just wish that, at least, my last few days of freedom before this ball will be alright.”

Kanroji tentatively, ever so diligently following your every step, took your hand in hers, “I am wishing only the best for you, my princess. I promise that your husband will be as kind and as loving as can be.”

You smiled at her, still holding the foxglove in your hands, “thank you, Lady Kanroji.”

“–and if he’s not, then I promise to make his life a living hell,” she grinned, causing a hearty laugh to emerge from your chest.

“That hopefully won’t be necessary, but I thank you nonetheless.”

You looked down towards the ground, noticing that an invasive species of yellow tansy has taken root in the soil all throughout the garden.

Groaning, you looked up towards Kanroji once more, “do we not have a gardener to get rid of these weeds?” you asked exasperatedly, and she chuckled.

“Your highness, with all due respect, didn’t you fire them last week because they pruned your rose bush in a way that wasn’t to your liking?”

Sighing, you responded, “you’re right, we’ll need a new one soon, perhaps one of the servants would care for a promotion?”

“We’ll see about that, my princess. As for now, though, how about we get you washed up from being outside, and then after I’m sure we can have the royal chef make you one of your favorite meals for dinner later? As a little treat for all the anguish from today, perhaps?”

You smiled, “that sounds wonderful.”

—

You sat in the great hall of the castle, sampling hors d'oeuvres and sipping on champagne, chatting idly with your assistant at your own private table, watching waiters and waitresses move about through all the different tables, serving appetizers and samples of foods to both guests and royals alike.

Music played in the background from an entourage of pianists and violinists, who were playing some piece from Beethoven that you couldn’t recall the name of.

Feeling refreshed, you called over the waiter for yet another glass of champagne, motioning him to fill up Kanroji’s glass as well.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly–” Kanroji protested, to which you waved your hand in front of her.

“C’mon,” you grinned, “you work so hard. Just one glass? Please?”

She huffed in feigned annoyance, but relented as she let the waiter fill up her glass with the bubbly drink. 

“You seem much happier now that the maids found one of your spare dresses in the dried laundry, don’t you?” Kanroji grinned.

You nodded, “I feel more beautiful this way. I really disliked that maid uniform. I felt so…inferior.”

“Clothing does not make a princess, you know,” she reminded you simply as you took another bite of food, and Kanroji grimaced as you opened your filled mouth to talk.

“I know. ‘M a princess regardless o’ wha’ ‘m wearin’,” you mumbled before swallowing, “you don’t need to remind me.”

Kanroji sighed as you so easily missed the point she was trying to make, watching as you waved for the waiter to come by, ready to order your meal. 

“What should I have prepared for you this flashy evening, your highness?” he asked.

The man before you was tall and muscular, with white hair that fell down his shoulders and crimson eyes that reminded you of rubies. He took out a notepad to write down your orders when you realized his left hand proudly displayed three golden bands which were embedded with diamonds, each one on a separate finger. 

You could hardly believe he was just a mere waiter for the castle.

With his looks, you believed he could be doing much better.

“Would it be so bad if I said ‘you’?” you smiled lazily at him, causing him to chuckle at your statement.

“Unfortunately, my princess, I am a happily married man,” he said, pointing to the three rings, “although I wouldn’t be opposed to adding a fourth wife to the family.”

Your nose crinkled in disgust – not because he had multiple wives, no – but because you disliked the idea of having to share him with others.

What belonged to the princess should belong to her alone.

“I’ll pass,” you forced out, “I would, however, like to request the foie gras for my meal tonight, if you could you put that in for me — and, perhaps, a side of toasted baguette with caviar spread will do.” 

“Ah, my princess, as much as we are happy to make anything you desire, I must regretfully inform you that we do not have any foie gras for tonight.”

Your blood pressure started to rise. Putting on a fake smile, which was more akin to that of a grimace, you asked, “and what may be the reason for the kitchen being unprepared to take my order?”

“Your highness, I promise that it is not the kitchen’s fault. A strange occurrence, and a most un-flashy one, really – our local farmers have reported that every single one of their animals have escaped, and what’s more- they can’t be found anywhere within the borders of the kingdom.”

You thought back to the morning, when you made note of the usual songbirds outside of your window being absent.

“Do you not have any duck meat preserved?” you asked.

“No, your highness. We hunt the very same day that we prepare the meals so that they’re fresh. Which is why–”

“Which is why you’re supposedly unable to adhere to my request. I heard you the first time. No need to repeat yourself,” you huffed. “If you don’t have any meat, then what do you have?”

Just as the waiter was about to open his mouth, you held up your hand to stop him, “Never mind. Just get me a salad. Now leave us,” you glared at him, disdain heavy in your tone.

“Of course, princess.”

You rolled your eyes as he sauntered away, and Kanroji stared at you with a slight frown on her face.

“What is it?” you asked, taking her hand and holding it.

Kanroji tensed, but allowed her hand to stay rested on yours.

“It’s nothing, I promise,” she started, “I hope that you can be more patient with them, though, they are doing their best to serve you.”

You sighed, “whatever.”

You looked down at her hand, at which point a frown crossed your face.

“Lady Kanroji, since when did you have such an awful scar?”

Looking back up at her, she seemed slightly alarmed, taking her hand away from yours.

“What are you talking about, princess?” She looked down at her own hand, inspecting it as though she didn’t realize she had such a blemish.

“That scar– I don’t know why I only just noticed it, but–” you paused as she showed you her hand once more.

Her hand was flawless.

“You may have had too much to drink, princess, should I escort you back to your room?”

You looked at your assistant in utter confusion, “but–”

“I highly doubt it was anything more than a trick of the light,” she smiled reassuringly. “Let’s get you to your chambers now, alright princess?”

—

You awoke to the pounding of fists against your door, jolting up from your bed.

“Princess! Please open the door!” one of the royal guards shouted from outside your chambers.

Groggily, you walked up and opened it, to find the guard in what seemed to be a slightly confused panic.

“What’s going on?”

“You’ll have to come down to the royal gardens with me, princess, there’s something that was…er– left for you.”

In a huff, you followed his instructions, the guard following closely behind you, winding through corridors and staircases until you reached the outside, where a small crowd consisting mostly of royal staff could be seen huddling around something, exchanging whispers and gasps that were unintelligible.

“What in the hell did you raise me out of my bed for that needed my immediate attention?” you yelled back at the guard, who was only a few paces behind you, “forcing me to go outside while looking this indecent better have a good explanation.”

You pushed your way through the crowd, only to stop short as you gazed at what was before you: a dead cow, one that seemed to be entirely gutted, with its entrails scattered about around its body. 

The same guard walked up to you, tapping you on the shoulder before handing you a scroll, “this was laid beside the mauled animal,” he explained.

You unraveled it, only to read something that made you feel rather faint.

Here’s that meat you missed so dearly last night, princess.

You could almost laugh, if it weren’t for how absolutely no one could’ve heard about this conversation besides Lady Kanroji and the waiter himself.

Perhaps he notified the chef and one of the kitchen staff got upset? But that wouldn’t explain how they got the cow in the first place if all the animals are all–

“Princess?”

You looked up at the guard, who’s purple eyes seemed to be glimmering in the light of the morning sun.

“What is it?”

The guard frowned – at what, you couldn’t possibly tell – before he shook his head and walked back toward the castle.

Just as you were about to question him, Lady Kanroji came running out from the palace doors and stopped before you.

“Oh, my princess! I’m so glad you’re alright!” she wailed, seemingly disturbed by the events of this morning.

“I’m fine, but I’ll need each and every one of the kitchen staff that was working last night to be interrogated.” 

Kanroji seemed confused, but nodded, deciding not to question your reasoning.

“In the meantime, your highness, would you like to visit your garden again? I know that it tends to calm you down quite a bit and right now you seem quite…frazzled.”

—

“Lady Kanroji, how quickly do flowers usually grow?”

“Your highness, at this point, I have no idea.”

She looked just as confused as you were – gazing upon your garden, which looked entirely different from what it looked like yesterday. Rather than hydrangeas and the occasional foxglove bush blooming, the entire garden had been infested with snapdragons.

“I was here just yesterday, was I not?” you asked rhetorically, and Kanroji nodded in affirmation.

“Yes, you were, my princess.”

You sighed, “I don’t understand – all I wanted was a few peaceful days before I am forced into an arranged marriage. Am I not allowed something as simple as that?”

“Many are not afforded things that may seem simple to others, my princess, perhaps this is how the universe so ordained these few days to unfold.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better about my circumstances, though.”

“Perhaps not, but we can always do our best to make the most of what we are dealt, even if the hand we are given is not the best.”

You listened to her as you looked around the garden, seeing how endless the lines of snapdragon flowers seemed to be, and, in a moment of firm resolve, you lifted up the bottom of your slip before setting your feet bare into the soil.

“What are you doing, your highness? You will dirty your clothing if you–”

“I’m making the most of the hand I’ve been dealt, Lady Kanroji,” you explained, before beginning to weed out the unwanted snapdragon flowers from their roots.

Kanroji smiled, before following suit and helping you in your task, ridding the garden of unwanted plants to restore it to its former glory.

—

It felt like hours since you first arrived to your garden, your night slip entirely dirtied, and your hands caked with soil. The sun beat down on both of you, causing sweat to drip down your face as you smeared it away with your dirtied hands.

A crow flew down and landed in the garden next to you, poking its beak at the bundle of snapdragons that you’d picked out of the soil, you waved at it in order to shoo it away – but to no avail.

“I thought that there were no fauna left in the kingdom,” you mused, and Kanroji giggled softly.

“Apparently this little one didn’t quite catch the memo,” she smiled, causing you to chuckle.

However, another crow flew down a few minutes later, and then another – until there was nearly a flock of crows that surrounded each of you. 

“Lady Kanroji–?” you asked, concern lacing your tone as you looked around, with what seemed to be every single crow staring directly at you, as though you were nothing but prey to them.

It started off with one crow – which flew toward you and started picking at your night slip with its beak. You tried shooing it off, but doing so only invited another crow, and another, and another to do the same.

“Stop! What– stop!” you screamed as the crows continued tearing at your slip, leaving holes and cuts all throughout the thin cloth. You knelt to the ground, curling yourself into a tight ball as the crows hovered closely above you.

Until finally, the torment ceased.

Standing up, you looked around to see them flying away, before looking back at your assistant who seemed absolutely horrified by what just occurred. 

“Your highness–”

“Don’t. Say. A word,” you seethed, tears starting to brim your eyes before you rushed back to your chambers, Kanroji following closely behind you.

—

Sanemi’s POV

A yell of frustration could be heard from your chambers, causing a silent snicker to pass through his lips. 

He couldn’t help that he loved messing with you: you were the perfect prey for someone like him. Someone in a place of authority who needed to be knocked down a few pegs; a bratty princess who wanted everything to go her way – regardless of if it hurt those around her or not. 

Not only that, but the noises you made were music to his ears – how you’d groan and grumble and scream – all because of him. 

He was the one who was causing you all this grief.

And he loved it.

Unfortunately, it seemed that missing clothes and cooking ingredients were just not enough to make you absolutely lose your sense of control. 

“Kanroji!” you yelled from your chambers, causing his ears to perk up. You always had your poor assistant help you out, he realized, it was only ever a matter of time before her name could be heard from your lips. 

It pissed him off, really, that assistant of yours – she would always be there to step in and help you, no matter how terrible your behavior was. 

However, it seemed today that your assistant was nowhere to be found, and so he had the privilege of reveling in your annoyed grumbles for that much longer.

After what seemed to be about half of an hour, your chamber doors finally opened.

He decided that your expression must’ve been priceless, so he took the shape of a female guard and walked down towards your chamber doors.

However, he couldn’t stop his mouth from falling agape upon seeing you.

Your dress – which he intentionally shrunk down a size, caused your tits to spill out from the top of it. Not only that, but your skirt only went down to your mid-thigh, and he could only imagine what a sight it would be if you bent over to pick something up. 

He was frozen – he hated you, hated authority. He despised how you thought that you were simply better than everyone else – that it was somehow your birthright to be above everyone else.

So, why was he awestruck by the sudden beauty that was before him?

You turned your head to him – or, the female guard that he was disguised as – and gave him a nasty glare.

“The hell are you looking at?” you asked.

If there were a higher power, Sanemi would’ve thanked them a hundred times over for the fact that his shapeshifting ability could hide the hardening bulge in his pants.

After a moment, he managed to find his voice – and thankfully he remembered to make it fit the character he was playing as.

“Apologies, princess, did you need help with anything?”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed before marching away from him, and he couldn’t help but smirk as your figure turned down another long corridor.

Out of all the people he’s fucked with, you were definitely his favorite.

—

“Shit, princess, got me so fuckin’ worked up over nothing, didn’t ya?” Sanemi muttered under his breath as he fisted his stiff cock, not even bothering to start slowly as he fucked his hand with each unrelenting stroke.

The precum seeped out from his tip, allowing his hand to glide even faster along his thick length; he was harsh with it, the muscles in his forearm nearly burning at the pace of his movements. 

Sanemi snuck into your room after you left – having now memorized your daily schedule, he didn’t need to worry about you catching him in the act. It would be at least an hour before you returned to your chambers, giving him plenty of time to cum before then.

He laid upon your bed – the mattress softer than anything he ever had the luxury of experiencing before – as he stroked himself to the thought of ruining you.

He wondered if the plush of your skin would be even softer.

Gods, how he would love to trace his roughened hands along your delicate body, squeezing your tits, groping your ass.

You could stand to have a bit of punishment too, he thought before envisioning how he’d have you on your hands and knees, smacking your ass until it was red and sore.

Or maybe humiliation would be better?

He groaned as he thrust up into his hand as he thought of all the ways he could ruin your status, humiliating you in front of hundreds – no, thousands – of your subjects.

Maybe he could take it a step further than he usually would this time – oh, how he’d love to ruin you until you were nothing more than a needy slut for his cock.

“Fuck–” he grunted, before turning his head to the side, where he eyed a pair of your discarded panties in the corner of your room.

“Fuckin’ brat never learns to clean up after herself,” he muttered, climbing out of your bed to go pick them up.

Lucky me, he thought, bringing your panties up to his nose and inhaling deeply, his knees nearly buckling.

Somehow, the head of his cock turned an even angrier shade of red after breathing in your scent, with his length getting so stiff that it almost hurt.

“Fuck– princess,” he groaned, “smell so fuckin’ good,” he added, walking back to your bed before inhaling more of your musk, hips bucking involuntarily into his hand – his cock getting impossibly harder as he fucked himself to the thought of you. 

“Gonna make me fuckin’ cum like this, you fuckin’ brat.” 

His abdomen tensed as his seed shot out from his reddened tip, spilling it all over his hand and lower stomach. He hissed as he continued to stroke himself through his orgasm before pulling his hand back and letting it fall against the mattress, panting heavily.

“Are you sure you don’t have any spare clothes that fit, my princess?”

Sanemi’s eyes shot open, hearing your assistant’s voice from outside the door.

“Yes, I checked every single one and they’re all too tight! I’ve had difficulty breathing all morning because of this stupid outfit!”

You shouldn’t be back yet, he thought, but then again he did disrupt your morning for the third time this week – perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised.

He shot up from your bed, quickly stripping it as well as gathering any dirty clothing you had lying around before transforming himself into a maid.

The door opened, and Sanemi had to hold back a grin when he saw how frustrated you were, his cock starting to harden once more upon seeing your face contorted into a pout.

“Why are you here?” you asked him, before your assistant put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Leave her be, my princess, she’s just doing her job.”

Sanemi nodded to her and took the linen that he had gathered out of your chambers, leaving you and your assistant alone for the time being.

By the time he was out of sight, he snapped his fingers – causing the linen to disappear completely.

It’s not like you’d care about missing some bedsheets for a while, right?

—

Y/N’s POV

You awoke the next day to the smell of smoke.

You weren’t able to sleep much anyway — namely due to being limited to a simple blanket as you laid on your bare mattress — all because the maid who took your sheets didn’t bother to communicate with anyone else that your bed would need to be made before you retired for the night.

After dipping in and out of sleep, tossing and turning in your freezing room, the sun had finally started to rise, and, although you usually never awoke before it was at least halfway up in the sky, today your sense of grogginess was replaced by complete alarm.

Was the castle burning?

You ran to the doors of your chamber, your already too-tight night slip nearly causing you to trip as you reached for its handle.

Cold.

You slowly opened the door, and the absence of flames relieved you.

Only thinking of yourself, you carefully made your way down staircases and through corridors – the smoke only becoming more intense the further down you went.

Perhaps a kitchen fire?

Yet, as you found your way to the castle entrance, you started to realize that the smoke had been coming from outside rather than in the castle.

Careful to not show your face through any windows – in order to protect yourself from being targeted by any potential enemies or rioters outside – you listened for voices and yelling to determine if the castle was under siege.

But, other than the distant crackling of flames, the night was silent.

Exhaling your fear, you gained enough courage to peek through one of the windows. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, you thought to go outside so you could locate the source of the smoke.

The castle door creaked open, and a plume of smoke entered through the doorway, resulting in a series of coughs which erupted from your throat. The grass you were on was dry as you walked further, the blades poking at the soles of your feet with each step.

You saw the orange glow of the flames in the distance, and, by the time you got close enough to see what was burning, your blood ran cold.

Your garden.

The entire area had been engulfed in flames – the plants reduced to cinders and ash. 

Tears ran down your cheeks as you watched the only place you felt true peace burn to the ground, the fire growing in size until reaching a crescendo of roaring crackles as it burned every remaining piece of your soul, unrelenting until the fire decided to quell itself, returning the borrowed flames to the sun as it rose above the horizon.

Until what remained was nothing but char and dirt.

You sat there for what felt like hours, sitting silently as your eyes reddened – from the smoke or from crying, one wouldn’t be able to tell.

“Your highness…” you heard a soft voice behind you, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around.

The gentle, reassuring hand of your lady-in-waiting laid upon your shoulder once more – just as it had many times this past week. It was her way of consoling you, no matter how horrible things were.

“I’m so sorry,” was all she could offer, squeezing your shoulder as you gazed upon your garden – or what was left of it – in silence.

“Thank you, Mitsuri – but this isn’t your fault.”

Your friend sat down beside you, rubbing your back as you two watched the remaining embers flicker in and out of existence.

Until there was nothing else left for you to have.

—

Sanemi’s POV

Sanemi was smug – surely a fire would get your attention, would it not?

It was his last resort, but you had just been so awfully bratty and hostile to those around you.

He couldn’t just stand by the sidelines and let that happen, right?

The afternoon was eerily quiet, he hadn’t heard you yell for your assistant once today. Once you got back from your silly little playground, you locked yourself up in your room, not opening up for anyone.

So, that evening, he took on the form of that one maid again, and stole a skeleton key from one of the royal staff.

“Princess? May I come in?” He knocked on your door, and, after hearing no response, decided to unlock it, knocking once more as he entered.

You were sitting on your bed, staring into nothing, your hands lay silent in your lap.

“Princess?”

“What do you want?” you nearly whispered, as though the room around you might shatter into pieces should you speak any louder.

“Er–” Sanemi quickly skimmed through your daily schedule – something he had memorized every detail of – in order to come up with some excuse for interrupting your time alone.

However, he did not have time to answer, as you stood up and held your arms out from your sides – your expression flat and emotionless as your eyes remained fixed on the ground before you.

“Apologies, that was a stupid question,” you continued, your tone almost dejected before looking up at the maid before you, “It’s time for my bath, isn’t that right?” 

“Yes– yes, princess, of course,” Sanemi stuttered.

You simply stared, before speaking up, “well? Are you going to undress me or not?”

Sanemi’s ears flushed a bright red, but did indeed walk behind you – not wishing to reveal himself as an imposter by acting strange – and started to lift up your night slip, the very one you hadn’t changed out of since last night.

You smelled of burning ash, which wasn’t much of a surprise to him – but he didn’t expect you to withstand the smoke for so long, just to stare at the flames that he created.

He removed your night slip, using all of his willpower to not stare down at you while you were indecent.

“Take me to my bath, please,” you requested silently, and, to much of his surprise, he obeyed without a second thought.

He took your hand, leading you to your bathroom, where he simultaneously filled up your tub with warm water with the slight wave of his hand – as though it had been prepared for you all along, as though he knew this would be what he was getting into as he entered your room – your home.

You sat down in the clear water, ash ebbing off of you in ripples as water gently sloshed around you. He reached for a nearby cloth, and lathered it in soap, before rubbing it up and down your back, bubbles forming with each swipe of the cloth. 

You remained oddly silent, letting him wash you as he pleased – of course, you didn’t know it was him. 

He doubted you’d let him be within ten feet of you if he wasn’t acting as someone else.

Yet, when he went to clean your shoulders, he placed his false, dainty hand upon your shoulder, and you sniffled.

You were crying.

“Princess?” he asked cautiously.

You brought your hands up to your face, hiding yourself from the maid that washed you.

“What is happening to me?” you sobbed silently, breaths shaky as you inhaled, “My last few days have been horrible, and today was just— my garden is gone.”

Normally, Sanemi would feel a spark of pride upon hearing that he got under his victim’s skin, but now, he felt nothing but pure guilt.

Had he gone too far?

“Perhaps I’ve been cursed,” you whispered, “all I wanted was to live my last few days before I'm married in peace. I’m to be wed to someone that I don’t know the first thing about, to be silent and obedient, adhering to my husband’s every wish.”

He remained silent, unsure of what to say – he had been the cause of your suffering, at least in the short-term. This marriage of yours seemed unavoidable, something you’d have to endure for god knows how long.

He turned your face by your chin, gently pressing the washcloth to your cheeks, wiping away soot and tears with a few simple strokes. 

“I don’t even know what I did wrong, it all feels so– so unjust,” you confessed.

Had Sanemi not had centuries upon centuries to learn keeping up facades, he would have given himself away right then and there. In a mere second, you managed to replace the guilt that festered within his heart with pure rage.

How blind were you?

He said nothing as he finished washing you up, being careful to not scrub harshly at your skin despite his anger and hatred, and then toweled you up by the time he had finished. 

“Good night, princess,” he uttered before leaving you to dry yourself, resolving to not take a single glance back as you looked at him – or, looked at the maid – in pure confusion and hurt.

—

Y/N’s POV

“My princess,” Mitsuri whispered as she woke you up, “you slept for so long – it’s about time to get ready for the ball tonight.”

Your eyes shot open, anxiety spiking in your chest, “already?”

Mitsuri nodded, eyes softening in concern for you.

Fuck.

Mitsuri brought in a champagne colored dress which had been specially designed for you – taking all of your measurements into consideration, as well as a white mask with gold lining, and white feathers which were reminiscent of a swan. 

Mitsuri helped lace up the dress, which, unlike the rest of your outfits, thankfully fit quite well. She then placed the mask on your face, before taking your hand and gently leading you down to the great hall – where the festivities would soon begin.

Upon opening the doors, it became difficult to breathe, with people clustered together, voices clashing together as conversations carried through the hall. There was some dancing, yet those who were taking their chances on the ballroom floor seemed rather clumsy and uncoordinated in their steps, while those who were on the sidelines speaking with relatives and strangers alike sampled foods from trays that disappeared and reappeared along with the waiters that weaved haphazardly through the hall. 

You walked toward the front of the room, picking up your dress so as to not trip on the ornate staircase which led up to where your father – and King – waited for you.

“You look quite beautiful, my child, I hope you will be able to enjoy tonight’s celebrations,” he beamed, and you nodded in response.

“Are there any plans you have for me, father?”

“I do have a few princes I’d like for you to meet – namely those from the Agatsuma, Iguro, and Rengoku bloodlines. They all show promise – perhaps some more than others – of being benevolent rulers.”

As though prompted, a blonde man walked up the stairs toward you and your father, his hand shaky as he extended it toward you. Otherwise, there were no particular qualities of his that stood out to you. You looked at him expectantly, awaiting some sort of introduction.

“Y-your highness! May– may I please have your first dance of the night?” the man before you sputtered, and it took everything within you to properly school your expression so that your father wouldn’t scold you for poor behavior.

“May I know who I have the pleasure of dancing with?” you managed to ask the blonde, who seemed as though he would keel over and faint at just about any moment.

“Oh– I’m Zenitsu Agastuma, sorry–” he introduced himself, bowing before you.

Reluctantly, you curtseyed back, before placing your hand in his, grimacing at the clamminess of his skin. 

He placed his other hand on top of yours, “Thank you! I promise you won’t regret this!”

He took you down to the floor, muttering brief apologies to every person you two passed by. By the time you two the center of the great hall, he took one of your hands and placed it on his left shoulder blade, before taking his right hand in your left.

“Are you expecting me to lead?” you asked, and his face went bright red.

“If that’s alright with you, my lovely princess, and– if we could just do a simple box step, perhaps? I– I’m not too good with dancing,” he said sheepishly.

You sighed, deciding to take the lead in a box step, with him following each of your movements, until he tripped over your shoes.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he exclaimed, obviously nervous, his movements short and jittery with each subsequent step.

You sighed, but then he tripped over your feet again, and again, muttering out apology after apology each time.

By the time the song had finished, you’d had enough of him and walked him off of the dance floor.

“Wait– please! Give me another chance! I– I promise I’d be a good husband, please!” he babbled, tears flowing down past his mask and down his cheeks. You forced him off of you, shaking your hand so he’d let go.

You went to sit down next to your father, who seemed to be chuckling in amusement.

“Are you laughing at me, father?” you asked, your tone tense after what humiliation the blonde had caused you in front of your subjects.

“No, no– I promise I’m not,” he smiled, before summoning the next prince that he’d mentioned – a rather short man with black hair. Through his mask, you could see that his eyes were quite beautiful – being two separate colors.

Yet, his eyes were elsewhere, staring longingly at your friend, Mitsuri, rather than you.

“Erm– hello, may I ask for your name?” you asked the man.

“Hmm? I’m not interested,” he said curtly, “I decline the opportunity to dance with you, princess.”

Your mouth hung open, absolutely offended by the man before you.

“Are you absolutely sure, Prince Iguro?” your father questioned, and the prince nodded in affirmation.

“Yes, please honor my choice, your highness.”

Your father sighed, dismissing him and the prince quickly found his way to Mitsuri, who started blushing up a storm as soon as he started speaking with her.

At least one of us will have a chance at finding love tonight, you thought.

The last prince whom your father mentioned was summoned next, a young man who seemed rather jovial and filled with vigor, with hair that resembled that of flames themselves and eyes that were reminiscent of crackling embers.

“Your highness, would you be so kind and allow me to dance with you?” he smiled, a grin that was infectious as it caused you to return your own.

“Of course,” you happily responded.

He took your hand, kissing your knuckles before leading you back to the center of the ballroom, placing a hand on your left shoulder and leading you into the dance.

“I hope that this evening has fared well for you so far, my dear princess,” he said, twirling you around.

It was comforting – he was comforting. He provided you with air where you felt you could not breathe.

“It is going much better now that I am here with you, dear prince,” you smiled, “may I ask for your name?”

“Kyojuro Rengoku,” he answered, before leaning you into a dip and bringing you back upright, guiding you into another step, and another.

He was incredibly smooth with his movements – all until a waiter accidentally bumped into him, spilling wine down the back of his suit.

“My prince! I’m so, so sorry–” the waiter apologized, trying to clean up his suit with a spare cloth.

Kyojuro simply laughed it off, “it’s quite alright, dear waiter,” before turning to you, whispering “I’ll go get changed, and then I’ll be back for you, alright, my dear princess?”

You felt a warmth creep up your cheeks before nodding, seeing him give you a quick wink before he was off.

Your observing of the kind prince was interrupted by a gentle touch to your shoulder. Thinking it was Mitsuri, you turned around with a smile on your face, which quickly faded into one of confusion upon seeing the person in front of you.

“Hello, princess, may I have your next dance?”

The man before you was about as tall as Kyojuro, with white hair that seemed untamable. A man who displayed scars in every place of exposed skin, his raven mask unable to fully conceal the ones on his face.

Perhaps he was a royal knight of some sort?

“And who are you, may I ask?” you inquired, and a small smirk stretched along his lips.

“Sanemi, dear princess, my name is Sanemi.”

He extended his hand, which you observed had a similar scar to the one you thought Mitsuri had just a few nights ago.

Hesitantly, you placed your hand in his – immediately noting the warmth and roughness of his skin – as though he’d spent years working with them. His grip was firm, but not harsh – indicating knowledge of his own strength. 

His right hand slid down to the small of your back, finding its purchase just above your hip – not daring to go lower. He led you into a similar waltz that Kyojuro placed you in, yet, this one somehow felt more…intimate.

“Sanemi,” you started, rolling his name along the tip of your tongue, “do you not possess a last name? Or are you perhaps a scoundrel with a tarnished reputation?” you teased, each step between the two of you smooth, almost calculated as he led you through the ballroom.

“Do you believe you have earned my last name, princess?” he whispered hotly, to which you felt heat prickle along your face. 

He chuckled, “apparently not. But–” he led you into a quick spin, before pulling you close once more, “if you get to know me well enough, perhaps I’d be so willing to indulge in your curiosity.”

“Get to know you? Is that supposed to be some sort of challenge?”

“If that is how you perceive it,” he responded vaguely.

Curious, you were – the man before you hauntingly beautiful, the smoothness of his voice and his mystery, combined with his confidence made it difficult to believe he wasn’t of royal blood..

He’d definitely be fit as a King, you thought.

“What, may I ask, is your occupation then, Sanemi?” you asked, wishing to glean more information from the masked man.

“I’ve done quite a few things in my life, and I’d say that I'm competent in all that I do, princess.”

“A jack of all trades is a master of none, you should know,” you challenged.

“Ah, but oftentimes better than a master of one,” he continued, leaning closely into you, his breath gracing your ear, “and trust me darling, I’m a master of all of my works.”

Your face heated up at his claim, thanking the fact that he’d led you into a spin, so you could somewhat hide your embarrassment.

“Is that so? Then I think you’d have to show me one day, Sanemi.”

“Who’s to say that I haven’t already?” he avowed, his violet eyes sparkling behind his mask with knowledge unknown to you.

“What do you mean?” you inquired, side-stepping before he leaned you into a dip, his eyes looking directly into yours as he leaned closely into you.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, dear princess, I promise you’ll find out soon enough.”

As he brought you back upright, he parted from you, before taking your hand and kissing your knuckles – just as the prince before him did.

With his other hand, seemingly from nowhere, he pulled out an orange lily, and placed it into the hand that he kissed.

“I found this growing on the outskirts of your garden just yesterday. Such a shame the beautiful thing burned down.”

Speechless, you took the lily from him.

“Your condolences are appreciated.” You brought the lily up to your nose to take in its scent, before smiling at him and curtseying. “Thank you for the flower, and the dance, Sanemi, I’ll do well to remember you.”

—

“Father, please, I implore you to tell me who you have decided upon,” you begged, having waited impatiently until a majority of guests had exited the palace and gone home. Maids and servants proceeded with cleaning up the hall quickly after most of the festivities died down, and by now, most tables had chairs overturned on top of them, and mops could be found in use scattered throughout the ballroom floor. 

“My dear child, I am not able to give you an answer as you so wish. My advisors and I will need to convene and discuss our thoughts on what marriage would prove best for our kingdom.”

“Well, if you’d let me, I’d hope that you’d keep in mind that prince from the Ren–”

“My dear, as much as I’d love to take into consideration your opinion, this is a matter of kingdom survival, and thus my advisor’s opinions will have much more weight than my own child’s.”

Your mouth fell slightly agape, “but, didn’t you promise that you’d take into consideration the prince I got along most kindly with?”

“I did, my dear, but I have decided to rescind that statement. After your rather childish tantrum you displayed in front of me and my advisors, I came to the realization that you are not mature enough to make decisions that take more than just yourself into consideration.”

“But–”

“Child, indeed it is a most regrettable decision, but if I am to keep the kingdom’s interests in mind, then I will do what I believe is best.”

Tears of anger brimmed in your eyes as you once again stormed away from your father, exiting through the rather large doors at the end of the great hall and marching through them. You raced toward your chambers, where you wished to sob into your pillow until the morning came.

“Your father is right, you know,” a low voice spoke from one of the more darkened corridors as you passed by, causing you to stop dead in your tracks.

Looking around, you saw no one – you were alone, and yet, somewhere, someone was speaking to you.

Not only that, but they’d also listened in on the conversation you’d had with your father.

You peeked down one corridor, trying to make out a figure in the shadows, when you were suddenly pushed into the stone wall, a hand reaching around your mouth as a body held you in place.

“Don’t. Scream.”

A muffled cry came out of your throat, which prompted the assailant to point a cold, metal blade to your throat.

“The hell did I just fuckin’ tell you, sweetheart?”

Your breathing became rapid, panic ensuing as the knife trailed down your throat – just gentle enough so as to not draw any blood.

“Y’know, princess, I’ve been tryin’ to get you to see your wrongdoings this entire fuckin’ week,” the stranger started, “but you just don’t fuckin’ learn, do ya?”

Your eyes widened as you realized this person had been responsible for everything.

Including your garden.

In a fit of rage, you tried biting your assailant's hand, to which he simply moved it to constrict lightly around your throat.

“Oho–! Do we have a biter here, sweet thing? And to think that I always thought your bark was worse…”

“You bastard, let me go! I’ll have your fuckin’ head for this!”

“Oh sweetheart, you’ll definitely have my head, but not in the way you seem to think. Y’see, I’ve been tryin’ so fuckin’ hard to get you to understand how pretentious you are, how much of a snob you are, and, frankly, I’ve run out of ideas, princess.”

He turned your face towards him, making you realize it was the same person who’d danced with you at the ball – the man with the scars, the white, unruly hair, and his strikingly violet eyes.

“Sanemi?” you asked, even though in your heart you knew it was him.

Sanemi grinned, “ah, so you do have a brain up there in that pretty little head of yours,” he sneered at you, “then maybe this last little lesson I give you will be the one that finally sticks.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” you hissed, and Sanemi chuckled as you struggled against him.

“Oh, princess, have you not realized what I’m gonna do yet?” he cooed mockingly, “I’m gonna fuck the brattiness out of you, sweetheart.”

A small gasp left your lips at his assertion, yet, you couldn’t help the feeling of heat spreading both across your cheeks, as well as the kindling of flames within your lower stomach.

You were to be forcefully married, to live a life of servitude to your husband – who will be pronounced King once your father passes, to endure a loveless marriage – with tolerance of your significant other being the most you could possibly hope for. 

You could have a little fun before all that, couldn’t you?

Sanemi darkly chucked behind you, “I can smell your arousal, sweet thing, you really do want this, don’t ya?”

The man threw the knife to the ground before licking a stripe up your neck and leaving bites across the expanse of your skin, starting with your earlobe and working his way down to your shoulder, teeth sharp as they grazed along your body.

You shivered, embarrassment flooding your veins at how you reacted to his touch – you shouldn’t want this, you were a princess, a proper lady who knew that doing such acts before marriage was scandalous.

But, did you truly care about your marriage?

With each brush of his roughened hands against your skin, the consequences that threatened your wishes of this continuing faded further and further.

Sanemi worked his hands to the center of your back, his fingers deftly untying the lace of your dress – as though he had experience in such skills before this.

“Such a fuckin’ slut, wishing for me to take you before you’re married – what would your father think?” he asked mockingly as he pushed your dress down, revealing your breasts to him.

“Oh– that’s right, you don’t care much of what he– or anyone– thinks, do you?” he answered his own question, before leaning down and pursing his lips around one of your nipples, sucking harshly at your tits, earning a soft gasp from you as your face contorted at the sensation. His tongue laved against the softness of your skin, before biting down – making you let out a sharp hiss before bringing your hand up to his hair and tugging at it.

He looked up at you, hate and lust evident in his eyes as he pulled off of you with a lewd pop, and, just before you thought he would move on to the other tit and perform the same actions, he instead raised his hand and gave a sudden, hard slap to your breast.

“Ah–!” you gasped, evoking a laugh from him.

“Oh, do you like pain, brat?” he taunted, causing you to flush intensely across your cheeks as he landed another slap to your other tit, to which you let out another, shorter gasp from you.

“Answer the question, slut.”

Whimpering, you slowly nodded, and he grinned before roughly grabbing at your tits, rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

“Then get on your knees f’ me.”

You looked at him as though he were crazy, but, with one last slap to your tits, you quickly complied, lowering yourself to the ground.

“Isn’t this a sweet sight?” Sanemi chuckled, “a princess kneeling before someone else – how cute.”

Humiliation seeped into your veins as you looked down at the floor, unable to meet his eyes with  your own, until he forced your chin up, and– after a small wave of his hand, you felt someone else pushing you down onto all fours. Flinching at the contact, you quickly turned your head around to see another Sanemi staring back at you – fully naked and littered with scars.

“What–” you started, before the second Sanemi started to rip your dress off of you – ruining it beyond repair.

“Oh, are you surprised, princess?” the original Sanemi asked, “how did you think all of the shit that happened to you this past week came about?”

Before you could answer, a rough smack landed on your ass, the strength of it causing you to be pushed forward as you whined at the stinging pain that Sanemi’s hand left behind.

“That’s one, brat, I think you could stand to handle a bit more, can’t you?” the Sanemi in front of you decided before taking his cock out of his pants as the one behind you dealt a smack to your other asscheek. He started stroking his cock with his fist as his double continued his assault behind you.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet already,” muttered the one behind you, as you felt two fingers dip in between your folds – collecting your slick before landing another blow, “such a goddamn whore, aren’t ya? And all from being spanked? You’re fuckin’ filthy, princess.”

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Tears were starting to escape your eyes – your ass starting to feel raw from the constant blows. The tears found their way down your cheeks before the Sanemi in front of you lifted your chin up with one hand, stroking his cock furiously with the other as he groaned at the sight in front of him.

“Fuck– I’ve wanted to ruin you all week, princess, make you nothing more than a whore for my cock – to turn you into a braindead fucktoy all for my pleasure.”

You whined at his confession, leaning forward a little in an attempt to catch his lips with yours before he pulled away from you, leaving you feeling unfulfilled before his clone landed a harsh slap to your pussy – causing you to yelp as the clone started to prod his fingers at your entrance.

“Please, more,” you begged.

“Hmmm, I don’t think you deserve more, princess,” Sanemi smirked, before closing the distance between you and his cock – the tip of which blushing a deep red as precum seeped out from it.

“Be a good girl for once and earn your pleasure.”

You hesitantly looked up at him, before reaching out your hand and delicately wrapping it around his thick cock. Sanemi hissed, not fully expecting how soft and plush your hand would feel when wrapped around him.

Starting out with some slow, gentle strokes, Sanemi started bucking slightly into your hand – not used to how languid and soft your movements were. You traced your thumb over his leaking slit, gathering his precum before moving back down his length.

The clone behind you finally pushed his fingers deeper into you, making you whine at the intrusion as he curled his fingers inside your wet heat, moving at about the same pace that you stroked the other one’s cock, repeatedly pressing into that one area that pulsed pleasure through your abdomen with each movement. You writhed in his hold, resulting in him using his other arm to keep your hips in place as he fucked you with his fingers.

“M-More,” you whimpered, closing your eyes at the sensation of his fingers inside of you, his tortuous pace and his hold on your hips forcing you to take only what he decided to give you – what he thought you deserved.

“Uh uh–” Sanemi tutted, grabbing your perfectly styled hair into his fist, pulling your head up toward him, “keep your eyes open, brat, you still gotta work on my cock, remember?”

You nodded, opening your eyes as you focused on stroking his cock, increasing the speed at which your hand glided along his length.

Sanemi’s fingers, too, picked up a faster pace, two of his clone’s thick digits pumping in and out of you, until the only sounds that could be heard were the slick of your hands working on each other and the soft grunts and moans coming from each of your throats.

Then, without warning, the clone decided to remove his fingers from your pussy. Whining, you tried pushing your hips back to receive more attention from him, only to let out a shaky moan when you felt his wet tongue travel along your slit.

“Fu–uh–ck” you shuddered as he lapped up your juices, his hands spreading along the meat of your ass, making you wince slightly from remnants of the earlier punishment you received.

“Shit, you taste so fuckin’ good,” the clone muttered as he licked a broad stripe up your cunt, “fuckin’ knew you would, princess, you always smelled so damn sweet.”

“H-Hah–?” you tried to conjure a response, which more so resembled that of a moan as it tumbled out between your lips.

“C’mon, don’t tell me I’ve fucked you stupid already, princess,” Sanemi chuckled, “just what do you think happened to all that clothing of yours? Especially your panties– god I couldn’t get enough of ‘em, your scent would linger for so damn long.”

An intense heat bloomed along your cheeks, realizing just exactly what he meant.

Sanemi’s clone groaned as he plunged his tongue into your heat, lapping up everything you gave him as he ate you out. You continued stroking the other’s thick length, bringing your lips to the tip of his cock, experimentally licking at his leaking slit. Sanemi’s grip on your hair tightened, encouraging you to keep going – to keep serving him.

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, a soft hum sending vibrations down his length as you reveled in the way his clone was sucking at your clit. Hollowing your cheeks, you started sucking at his bulbous head, using your tongue to lap up any precum that seeped out of his weeping slit. Sanemi pushed your head further down, impatient with you only giving attention to his reddened tip, which caused you to choke along his length as it entered the back of your throat, tears pooling around your eyes as your lips swollen lips took inch after inch of his thick cock.

“Fuck– that’s it, princess, just hold on a lil’ longer f’ me,” he grinned as he looked down at the mess you were quickly becoming, gagging around him like the good little slut you were, until he finally let you off of his cock, with you gasping for air.

Yet, his clone didn’t stop his assault on your cunt, switching between licking and sucking at your clit and feasting on the sweetness that came out of your wet heat. The original Sanemi put his hand underneath your chin once more, forcing you to look up at him as the tension in your stomach got tighter and tighter.

“God– so good,” you whined, relishing in how Sanemi’s tongue felt against your wet cunt, looking up at the one in front of you with the prettiest, watery eyes that he’d ever seen, eyes which begged him to let you cum.

Yet, just as the warmth in your stomach was about to spill over, the clone removed his mouth from your pussy, leaving you to clench around nothing as you whined and pouted at the one in front of you.

Both of them let out a light snicker, until the one holding your chin knelt down in front of you, grinning as he stared down at your pathetic form.

“Did you really think I’d let you cum so easily, little brat?” he inquired, the raspiness of his throat making his question all the more intimidating. You shook your head, knowing better than to argue or beg for what you wanted.

The Sanemi behind you gave a sharp slap to your pussy, causing you to yelp from how sensitive you were from the pleasure his tongue gave you only seconds before.

“Please– wan’ your cock, wan’ to cum around it,” you whined pathetically, trying to wiggle your hips as they were held in place by the clone behind you.

Sanemi’s eyes were wild as he smirked down at you, “Oh? You want my cock, princess? You want me to ruin you completely – make you a complete mess until you’re nothing but a hole for me to fill?”

You nodded quickly, eyes glossed over as he described what he could do to you. 

“Fine, just because you begged so sweetly for it – but you won’t be getting my cock, princess – not yet. You’ll have to make do with my double’s – think you can do that for me?”

“Yes– please, anything, plea–ah!”

Without warning, the clone behind you shoved himself balls deep inside of your hot cunt, breaking past the thin tissue near your opening and pushing deeper, until his tip nearly kissed your cervix.

Sanemi’s thrusts were rough, plunging into your heat fully with each strong push of his hips. His balls slapped against your clit, providing extra stimulation as he fucked himself into you, turning you into a whining, moaning mess.

The original Sanemi took in every expression and movement you made, relishing in how he was finally able to break you down into tiny little pieces. He grabbed his cock as his clone continued pumping into you, and started fisting himself at an equally fast pace.

“Look at yourself, princess, so fuckin’ pathetic, aren’t ya?” he grinned, “you’d always carry yourself like you were the most important person in the room – like no one else mattered but you, all because of your goddamn status.”

You whined in response, unable to verbalize anything as your mind softened with every single thrust of his cock; you were becoming malleable, your mind opening and wishing to be molded by him the more he fucked you.

“I reject all of that. You were never important – you’re nothing but a fuckin’ brat for me to tame, a slut who needs nothing but a cock to make her happy.”

He slapped your face with his cock, some of the release which seeped out from his tip managing to find itself on your cheeks before he began stroking himself at a furious pace once more. His other clone pounded himself into your cunt, the blunt head of it fucking that one spot inside of you which made your mind go blank.

He was right – you weren’t a princess, you weren’t someone with status or wealth or royal blood – you were nothing but a hole all this time for him to use and fill, a cumslut, a cocksleeve – all for the man in front of you.

How could you be so blind?

All you could do was moan, becoming more and more pathetic as his clone filled you with his cock, clenching around it and gripping his cock like a vice, your cunt sucking him back in every single time he pulled out.

But it wasn’t enough.

You needed – you craved the Sanemi in front of you. You needed him – not his clone, to take you, to truly beat you into submission like the dumb little brat you were.

“Please, please Sanemi– I need you,” you begged with the man in front of you, tears filling your eyes once more as you pleaded for him to fill you – to make you his.

The Sanemi in front of you said nothing before standing up to his full height as his clone removed his cock from you. The original Sanemi waved his hand yet again, this time allowing a cushioned mattress to appear in the small, dark corridor the two of you were in. 

The clone sat down on the mattress, before the original followed suit.

“Sit on my lap,” he demanded, and you obeyed immediately – thighs wrapping around his waist as he slipped his cock into you, to which your head fell to his shoulder as you let out what could only be described as a sigh of relief.

Sanemi gripped your hips, moving you up and down on his cock so you could get an understanding of what he wanted you to do, showing you exactly how he wanted you to bounce on his dick.

It wasn’t long before you grew enough confidence to perform the action by yourself, moving your hips up and down as you fucked yourself on his cock. Your arms found their way around his neck as you whimpered softly into his ear as you impaled yourself on him again and again – with no thoughts going through your mind other than the desire to make him feel good.

At some point, you noticed his clone behind you, a single digit nudging at the entrance of your asshole, pushing and prodding his finger gently so he could fully enter it inside of you. Heat prickled against your cheeks as you forced yourself to relax rather than tense at the unfamiliar contact – allowing the clone’s finger to work its way into your ass.

You continued to fuck yourself on Sanemi’s cock as one finger became two, opening you up further and further, before you felt a lubricant of some sort being conjured from the clone’s fingers, allowing him easier access to your hole as he continued fingering you.

“Relax f’ me, sweetheart,” the clone muttered as you whimpered in response, your movements slowing as you noticed his cock pressing against your ass – which had also been covered in lube – before slowly pushing into you.

You choked on a moan as you felt him stretch you out more than you thought possible, having fully stopped your movements in order to focus on accommodating his massive length inside of you.

Realizing this, Sanemi readjusted himself so that he was laying on his back, heels digging into the mattress before continuing to fuck into you. His clone got up on his knees before entering himself back into your tight hole, entering you when the other Sanemi pulled out – constantly being filled by either one of them without end.

“Fuckk,” you groaned, mind addled with pleasure as the two Sanemis kept filling you with their cocks, unrelenting in their thrusts as they bullied themselves deeper and deeper into your holes. You felt that same pressure building up in your abdomen again, becoming tighter and tighter with each plunge of their cocks.

“Please, ‘m gonna– ‘m gonna,” you begged Sanemi once more as your tears started to flow freely down your cheeks, pleading with him to let you cum.

“No. You’re gonna fuckin’ hold it. You don’t get to cum until I tell you to,” he answered, making you whine yet again at how unfair he was being.

They started fucking you even harder, thrusts unrelenting as they took turns filling you up. It took everything within you to not cum – to obey Sanemi’s command, shutting your eyes tightly as you tried focusing on anything other than how good they were making you feel.

Both Sanemi and his clone’s thrusts started to become sloppier, rutting into you as they both started to reach their own ends.

“I’m gonna cum in this fuckin’ pussy,” Sanemi growled, his voice raspy as he fucked into you, his cock starting to twitch as he neared orgasm, “gonna cum in my pussy, isn’t that right, brat?”

You nodded, “Please! Need your cum Sanemi, please cum inside me–!”

With one final stroke, both him and his clone released deep inside of you – flooding both of your holes with their hot ropes of cum.

“Fuck! Too– too much! Gonna– ah!”

You couldn’t help it– the feeling of them filling you up felt too good. Despite desperately wishing to obey Sanemi’s order, you ended up orgasming all over their cocks, gushing around them as warm ropes filled you up, with both of them groaning as you clenched and pulsed around them.

“Fuck–! ‘M sorry! ‘M so sorry!” you whined loudly as you came, hips betraying you as you attempted to prolong your euphoria by grinding down onto them.

After coming down from your high, you were met with a stormy glare from the man in front of you. 

Your eyes widened, knowing you’d fucked up.

“I’m so sorry, Sanemi, I didn’t mean to, I–”

Sanemi grabbed your face, his thick fingers pressing into either of your cheeks.

“What did I fuckin’ tell you?” he asked simply, and a fresh set of tears brimmed at your eyes.

“Y-You told me not to cum,” you answered meekly.

“That’s right, brat,” he responded, waving his free hand to dismiss his clone – making his double disappear completely as he pulled out of your pussy. You whined at the lack of something filling you up, your poor cunt clenching around nothing once more as Sanemi moved away from you.

“On your back, now.”

You obeyed, flipping onto your back and spreading your legs for him without a second thought. You fought the urge to rub your clit – knowing it wasn’t your place to provide yourself pleasure anymore, as you watched him place his cock right in front of your entrance.

“Please, ‘m sorry,” you pleaded as you watched him glide it up and down your sopping pussy, gathering your slick on the tip of his cock. His lilac eyes met yours once more as he finally lined himself up at your entrance.

“If you want to cum so bad, fine. I’ll make you cum until you can’t even fuckin’ think anymore.”

He pushed his cock inside of you, flicking at your clit with his thumb as he dragged his length against your slick walls, brushing against that one spot which made you see stars.

“Please, nngh– need it,” you sobbed as he relentlessly fucked into you, before he took one of his hands and pressed it down on your lower stomach.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll fuckin’ get it, brat–” he panted, “feel me? Feel my cock pressing all the way into your stomach?”

You nodded, eyes rolling back as he refused to let up, your orgasm building on itself again until it finally reached its peak once more.

“Fuck–!” you screamed as he fucked you through your orgasm, not letting up even as you came down from your high, denying you any break from the pleasure that he was giving you.

It wasn’t long before the next orgasm as Sanemi rubbed your clit at a similar speed to his thrusts, causing you to gush again around his cock. He groaned as your cunt pulsed around him, milking him for all he had – yet he didn’t stop, rather, he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you – denying his own release in order to fulfill his promise of overstimulating you.

At some point – you weren’t entirely sure when – Sanemi folded you in half, your legs reaching your shoulders as he slammed even deeper into your cunt, his cock brushing against your cervix with each stroke. Your mouth hung open, your voice emitting short, unrestrained moans as he continued his assault on your pussy – fully abusing it until it molded into the shape of his cock.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum, brat,” Sanemi grunted as his hips fell onto yours with every single stroke of his cock. You whimpered, wishing for nothing more than his cum to fill you up – to breed you like the whore you were. 

You responded with incoherent babbles, whining and moaning the more he rutted into your cunt, his thrusts getting sloppier as he approached his peak for a second time.

“Gonna fill you up, make you pregnant before you’re even– hah– even married,” he panted, a promise which made you clench around him even more, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, brat?”

“Y-Yes!” you managed to voice as he slammed himself deep inside you one final time, grunting as he filled you up – triggering your own final orgasm, causing you to milk him dry as he painted your walls white.

Sanemi collapsed to the side of you as the two of you regained your breath, staying like that for a few minutes before either of you spoke.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said awkwardly, “for ruining your garden in the way that I did.”

In response to your silence, he continued, “I had gone too far, I took something that you held dear to your heart away from you. I’m sorry.”

“I think I need to apologize as well,” you finally said, “not just to you, but to the others as well.”

Sanemi turned on his side, holding himself up by his elbow as he looked down at you, a slight grin on his face.

“You mean to tell me that fucking you was the solution to your brattiness this whole time? Not the crows or the dead cow–”

“Shut up!” you laughed as you smacked him in the chest, only causing him to grin more from your reaction.

“Am I wrong, princess?” he jokingly inquired, to which you hid your face from him with the palms of your hands – until he pushed your arms away, looking down at you with a triumphant smile on his face.

“You’re so stupid,” you half-heartedly spit at him, to which he put a hand to his chest in mock pain.

“You wound me, princess.”

You shook your head, scoffing as he got up, making the mattress beneath you disappear with a final wave of his hand, causing you to fall slightly onto the cold floor of the dark corridor.

“Are you going somewhere?” you asked him.

“I’m not exactly fond of castles, sweetheart, I can’t stand the pretentious atmosphere they tend to have.”

“So you’re leaving?” you further questioned, a little upset with the idea of not seeing him again.

“I am, but, if you are going to miss me so terribly, I could always sweep in and take you away from this wretched place, but I doubt you’d so easily leave your status and wealth behind.”

You remained silent, knowing that it would be near impossible for you to forsake all of which you knew and had for a simple, spontaneous desire to say yes, you would.

Sanemi smiled, his eyes soft as he gazed upon you – what was once hatred now replaced with something rather unfamiliar before vanishing before your very eyes, leaving you to stare at the emptiness of the corridor that you were in – having become alone once again.

Sighing, you stood up, gathering yourself – realizing that your once torn dress had been somehow completely repaired – as though it were entirely new.

With a little bit of difficulty, you managed to put your dress back on before heading back to your chambers, the unease of being married the following day looming over your mind once again.

The chirping of birds could be heard from your window once more, and, out of pure curiosity, you decided to peek out from your window to gaze out upon what was left of your garden. Yet, instead of seeing nothing but scorched soil, you managed to spot the blooming of a new plant – one which had not previously grown in your garden at all.

Rain lilies.

Perhaps, you thought, I should go down there and nurture them myself.

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