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fiction-is-life · 1 year

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Calling Out to You

Summary: You reconnect with an old friend during the Season, but the young Viscount is not the same as the boy you grew up with. Requested by @junevoidzombie

Warnings: Description of injuries, minor character death, period misogyny, Anthony being difficult

“Help!” you called, starting to panic as the evening air grew cooler and the forest grew dimmer. You sniffled and wiped your nose on the sleeve of your dress; your mama was going to be so angry, but the dress was ruined now anyways. “Is anybody out here?” you cried.

You heard a twig snapping in the distance, and your head snapped up. You let out a pitiful hiccup, but you finally stopped your incessant blubbering. You waited a few more moments, hoping the sound would come closer, but it didn’t. It must have been an animal, you thought.

“Who’s there?” a voice called. It didn’t sound particularly friendly, but any help was better than staying out here.

“My name is (Y/N)!” you called back. “I tripped and now I fear I have sprained my ankle.”

“Hold on. I shall be there in a moment, miss,” the voice called back, this time slightly closer.

In less than a minute, a figure started to take form in the growing darkness. As he grew closer, you realized that he was younger than you were expecting - perhaps only three years older than yourself. He had the most beautiful dark hair and eyes, though, and you became conscious of the horrible disarray you were currently in.

He knelt beside you. “I know you said your ankle is injured; is there any way you think you can stand on it, with my assistance?”

You shook your head. “I have already tried, sir.”

“Anthony,” he interrupted. He cleared his throat. “You must call me Anthony, miss.”

Your face lit up with a smile. “Then you must call me (Y/N), Anthony. My family just moved here from Hertfordshire. We now live at Turring Manor, and I was exploring the country when I fell.”

He smiled back shyly. “Well, it would most likely be easier to carry you to my family’s home. It is much closer than Turring Manor, and the sun is already setting.”

“That would be most appreciated, Anthony. Thank you!” you replied eagerly.

The next thing you knew, Anthony was lifting you off of the ground, being extra careful to not jostle your hurt leg too much. Once you were off of the ground, however, Anthony looked at you while a blush crept across his cheeks. “Um, it might be easier to walk if you put your arms around me as well. I wouldn’t want your leg to pain you more than necessary,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

“Very well,” you whispered. You couldn’t help your own blush as you did as he asked you. Once that was done, he set off in the direction he had come from.

“Anthony, there you are darling! Wherever have you been?” A very beautiful woman came down the steps as you approached the very impressive home. It must be Anthony’s mother; the resemblance was uncanny.

“I am sorry I am late, mother, but our new neighbor fell in our woods and could not walk home,” Anthony explained.

The lady’s eyes finally fell on you and concern filled them. “Oh, you poor thing,” she cried. “Anthony, bring her up to the yellow bedchamber. I shall have the maids draw a bath and bring her something to eat.”

Anthony’s mother sprung into action, and before you knew it, you were being laid upon a soft bed and Anthony was being shooed out of the room. After a luxurious bath, you were given a silk nightgown borrowed from one of Anthony’s sisters.

Said sisters (at least two of them - you had heard there was at least one more) came to keep you company before it was time to go to bed. You could tell you all would become fast friends although the two girls were as different as could be. Daphne was content to stay and practice piano while Eloise was always ready for an adventure. Life would certainly not be dull living so close to Aubrey Hall.

“So Anthony really carried you all the way from the woods because you fell?” Daphne questioned as you explained what had happened that day.

“Yes, he did. I couldn’t be more grateful; my parents would have been worried sick if they had not heard from me,” you said.

Daphne sighed, a dreamy look taking over her features. “That is so romantic. Like a knight rescuing the princess in the stories papa tells us. Right, Eloise?” Daphne gushed.

Eloise rolled her eyes at her older sister’s antics. “Anthony is hardly a knight in shining armor, Daphne. You are being silly,” Eloise retorted.

Seeing how a fight was about to break out, you said, “He may not be a knight of olde but he certainly rescued me today.”

Eloise and Daphne looked at each other, slow smiles growing on each of their faces, making you nervous. “Do you love our brother, (Y/N)?” they squealed in unison.

“What? Of course not! We just met!” you protested, but the butterflies flying in your stomach told a different story.

“Anthony! You and Benedict - and Colin if he can behave himself and not eat all the biscuits - must come to my tea party this afternoon,” Daphne decreed at the breakfast table. Her proclamation was met with several groans and one small protest of “Hey!”

Anthony scowled at his younger sister. “Tea parties are for girls, Daphne. Besides, I have a shooting lesson this afternoon,” he said.

Daphne beamed despite the implied insult. “No you don’t! I already asked papa, and he has rescheduled your lesson. He hopes to join us for a bit after his meeting with Lord Aberly,” she said primly. Her eyes glimmered with a spark of mischief. “(Y/N) shall also be there,” she added in a sing-song voice.

“Fine, we shall attend your tea party.”

“Oh, come on, Anthony! Why did you have to accept for the both of us?”

“Are you excited for the new baby, Ant?” you asked as you strolled in Aubrey Hall’s garden.

He shrugged, making his broadening shoulders fill his jacket even more. He had changed so much in the year he had been away at university, but he was still the same Anthony, thank goodness. “I suppose. It is always nice to welcome a new sibling, but the novelty has worn off. Each baby is just like the last,” he chuckled.

You slapped his arm playfully, giggling as well. “How could you say that, Anthony?” you scolded. “Are you going to think that of your own children as well?”

You thought you saw his eyes flicker over your form with a strange expression in them, but it must have been a trick of the light for when his eyes returned to yours they were his normal welcoming brown.

“No, I shall probably become as tender-hearted as my father when each babe is welcomed. And dote on my wife for bringing such a miracle into the world,” he replied, that funny trick of the light occurring again and making your stomach inexplicably flip.

His father knelt to gather flowers for his mother, prompting Anthony to do the same. “I shall gather some for (Y/N). She was just admiring these daffodils the other day,” he spoke as he used his pocket knife to cut the loveliest blooms. “I believe I will do as you suggested and ask her -”

A thump behind him interrupted him.

“Father? Father!”

“Papa has inherited a piece of land in Scotland. We are leaving within the week to go there.” You stood in the door of what was now Anthony’s study. He looked so small and lost sitting there, his late father’s portrait above him.

He nodded his head briefly before looking back down at the papers before him that required his attention. “I shall see you when you return then. Safe travels,” he spoke in a clipped tone.

“You don’t understand. We are renting out Turring Manor and moving to Scotland.”

His head snapped up at this, but his eyes were distant and cold, his jaw set. There was a pregnant pause before he spoke, “Then I wish you all the best, Miss (Y/L/N). May God be with you.”

His terse farewell cut you like a knife. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “And with you, Lord Bridgerton.”

You fled the house before anyone could see your tears fall.

Anthony was in the middle of his set with Miss Sherwood when there was a commotion at the entrance to the ballroom. He looked to see a family enter, but they were blocked from his seeing their faces. Accepting defeat, he tipped the corners of his lips up in what Miss Sherwood would know as a fond smile as he resumed their dance, forgetting the interruption entirely as the dance came to an end.

“Brother! How was your dance with the lovely Miss Sherwood?” Benedict clapped him on the back and handed him a glass of punch as he joined him near the terrace doors.

He sighed, letting his austere Viscount visage fade just enough for Benedict to see how tired his brother was. “She is well-spoken and graceful.” He looked away from his brother and out towards the crowd. “She shall make a wonderful Viscountess.”

Benedict’s eyes softened but Anthony refused to look at him. “Will that be enough for you, Brother? A wife and a mother to your children?”

Anthony fixed a glare on Benedict that would have made a lesser man shrink back and admit defeat. “Isn’t that the point of the institution? I shall gain an heir and somebody to take care of my households while I provide her with a name and protection from material poverty.”

“Some might add love into that mission statement,” Benedict said with a hint of sarcasm.

Anthony paused, but his mind was more made up than ever. “I gave that notion up a long time ago, Brother. Love brings nothing but heartache,” he spoke, his voice devoid of any emotion.

The brother’s staring contest was broken by a familiar voice. “Lord Bridgerton, Mr. Bridgerton.”

The tall, dark haired men bowed. “Lady Danbury, how do you do?” Benedict took on the lion’s share of the social niceties as Anthony still had that far off look in his eyes. He was not attending to the conversation at all, but Lady Danbury did not grow offended at his slight.

“Very well, Mr. Bridgerton. I wanted to introduce you both to someone. Her family has just moved back from Scotland - just in time for the season,” Lady Danbury continued, bringing you forward.

“(Y/N)!” Benedict cried, grabbing your hand to place a kiss onto your glove.

Lady Danbury raised an eyebrow in surprise, but her eyes were calculating. “So you two know each other?”

“Miss (Y/L/N)’s family used to be our neighbors. We spent many a day together before they moved away,” Benedict explained. You were glad for it as your tongue was tied.

“That is wonderful. Then you two can help me introduce Miss (Y/L/N) to some other members of the Ton,” Lady Danbury smiled but fixed her eagle gaze on Anthony who had broken out of his stupor enough to gaze open-mouthed at you. “Her family would like to see her settled.”

Benedict’s easy smile flashed. “That will not be so hard a task for one as lovely as you, Miss (Y/L/N).”

You smiled wryly. “It may become a little more challenging when people hear this is by no means my first season out,” you spoke, with that familiar teasing lilt to your voice.

“Nonsense.” Your head snapped up at the almost angry outburst from the Viscount. He cleared his throat. “Many men will find you to be all the more acceptable for your age,” he said.

You smiled and Anthony made the mistake of looking at you - really looking at you - this time. “You are right, my lord. Many bachelors will be looking to find a wife before they themselves enter their dotage,” you teased, making Benedict laugh.

Anthony could not recover himself fast enough - perhaps tell you that were more beautiful than the day you left - before Benedict was offering you his hand and leading you towards the dance floor.

“Miss (Y/L/N), may I have your next set?” Anthony intercepted you the moment Benedict led you off the dance floor. He was spinning his signet ring on his pinkie finger.

“Of course, my lord,” you spoke even as he was already grasping your hand and leading you back onto the floor.

You spent half of the set in silence. You could tell even after all these years when Anthony needed time to think. You focused on the steps of the waltz and actively tried to ignore how it felt to be in his arms.

“How was Scotland?” Anthony finally broke the silence.

You blinked, startled. “It is a most beautiful country, my lord,” you replied.

He nodded. “Were there no eligible gentlemen there?”

Your brow furrowed. “Of course there were many,” you sputtered.

“Why did you not wed then?” The interrogation continued.

Your nostrils flared with your temper. “I do not believe that is any of your business, my lord,” you stated, a hint of anger behind your words. “I could say the same for you.”

“Yes, but I am a man; it is different.”

You scoffed, drawing the attention of some onlookers. “Yes, I suppose it is. I am but a woman. Therefore my only purpose is to wed and have babies.” You stopped dancing and broke out of his grasp. You stood with your fists clenched at your sides. “I heard you when you were near the terrace, my lord. I cannot countenance how much you have changed.”

He watched in equal parts anger and despair as you walked away from him and out the doors.

“Mama, what are these?” You fingered the petals of the daffodils that had been arranged in a beautiful bouquet.

“They must be from a potential suitor who saw how gracefully you danced with Benedict last night,” she replied, still not daring to mention the scene you had caused when you had stormed away from Anthony. “There is most likely a card in them, peach.”

There was indeed. You opened it to find a familiar neat hand.

I remembered these were your favourites, is all it read.

You closed the card and slipped it into your pocket. “They are just from Lord Bridgerton. An apology for our row.”

You purposely did not meet your mother’s eye so as not to see the look of disappointment that overtook her features.

“Who is that walking with Lady Danbury?”

“That is Miss (Y/L/N),” Benedict quickly informed the fair-haired earl he and Anthony had been walking with along with Miss Sherwood. “Would you like me to introduce you both? She is an old friend of our family.”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Bridgerton, that would be delightful!” Miss Sherwood cried. “Wouldn’t it be, Lord Bridgerton?”

Anthony nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line. “Most delightful.”

You and Lady Danbury had already come upon the group, and you paused. “Miss (Y/L/N), you must allow me to introduce my good friend Lord James Thatcher, the Earl of Wembey and Miss Sherwood of Bath.”

You curtsied politely to the both of them. “It is a pleasure to meet you both,” you said smoothly, years of good breeding taking over as your mind reeled. So this was the Miss Sherwood that he had spoken of.

“Miss (Y/L/N), would you care to join me on a small boat ride on the lake? It is the perfect weather for it,” Lord Wembey addressed you directly, startling you. You could feel Lady Danbury’s gaze on you.

“That would be most lovely, my lord,” you spoke as you took his proffered arm.

“Lord Wembey has invited us to attend the theater tonight with him in his box. Is that not lovely, my dear?” your mama crowed. This would not be the first time the handsome earl had singled you out in his attentions. They had become quite marked indeed.

“That is wonderful, mama,” you replied, not looking up from your needlework. “Shall I wear the yellow silk, do you think?” And the conversation turned back to fashion plates and fripperies.

The pall mall ball soared into the air - straight into the woods and definitely nowhere near the intended target. You were never good at pall mall, but what you lacked in talent you made up for in enthusiasm. And the annual tournament was no exception - especially since it was your first after returning.

“I suppose (Y/N) must return to the woods,” Eloise teased. “Hopefully you do not need to rescue her this time, Anthony.”

“Rescue her? Whatever do you mean, Miss Bridgerton?” Miss Sherwood asked.

You and Anthony both opened your mouths to explain, but Benedict beat you to it. “Many years ago, Miss (Y/L/N) was walking in our woods when she injured herself. Luckily for her, though, Anthony was there to help her home.”

“Oh, how wonderful! It was like fate brought you together,” Miss Sherwood gushed, just as Daphne had all those years ago.

Anthony cleared his throat and brushed his free hand down his pant leg, trying to dislodge an imaginary piece of lint. “Yes, well, it was a very long time ago, and I am sure the memory has been distorted until it seems much loftier than it is,” he spoke, more harshly than he meant in his flustered state. “Shall we play on? I believe it was your turn, Miss Sherwood.”

“I have noticed Lord Wembey and (Y/N) are spending a great deal of time together, Brother,” Daphne spoke as she entered Anthony’s study.

“Have they? I have not really noticed,” Anthony spoke with a clenched jaw, his pen arrested in mid air where it dropped a rogue dot of ink on the otherwise pristine page.

Daphne tilted her head and pursed her lips - a look she had perfected from childhood. “I find that hard to believe, Brother. Everyone expects him to propose - perhaps even tonight at mama’s ball,” she said. She huffed lightly as Anthony still did not look up from his work. “And people are also wondering why you have not proposed to Miss Sherwood yet.”

Anthony finally set down his pen and looked at her. “How are those two connected, Sister?” he ground out.

Daphne did not break eye contact. “Some people are saying that you have not proposed to Miss Sherwood because you hold a tendre for (Y/N),” she explained.

“Why would I care about the words of gossips?” Anthony growled.

Daphne leaned forward, her face set just as hard as his. “You may not care, but if you do not fix this, you could inadvertently tarnish (Y/N)’s reputation and ruin her chances at an excellent match.”

Daphne made her way back towards the corridor. “Maybe think about that, Brother,” she said before she shut the door behind her.

You rode fast and hard, uncaring of anything but getting away. You did not even care that the skies looked as if they would open up at any second and flood the ground beneath you. It would only be too fitting for your mood.

Another one.

You had rejected another perfectly suitable gentleman.

What was wrong with you? Lord Wembey was everything you were looking for in a husband. He was young, titled, wealthy beyond measure, kind hearted, well-read. He could do with some darker hair, but that was beyond his control.

You drew your horse up short at that thought. Were you seriously comparing Lord Wembey to Anthony - yes, for he was still Anthony in your thoughts - and finding Lord Wembey wanting?

You breathed heavily as that thought washed over you, and you wanted to scream.

As if your thoughts had summoned him, Anthony appeared on horseback. He cut an even more impressive figure than he used to, but that was no wonder. His eyes locked on you, and he turned his horse to meet yours.

And you fled.

You could feel him following you, his better knowledge of the ground and larger steed allowing him to gain ground rapidly. You could feel the promised rain start to pummel your back, but you pushed your horse faster. Eating up ground faster than you could see it as your vision was blurred with rain and tears.

“(Y/N), watch out!” were the last words you heard before your body slammed into the ground.

You opened your eyes to see it was already light in your bedroom. Your mother sat beside you. “Mama?” you rasped, wincing at how it made your head ache.

The lines on your mother’s face smoothed as she looked at you, before promptly starting to sob. “Oh, you are awake! We thought we had lost you forever!”

You scrunched your forehead as you tried to sit up. You were immediately assisted by two maids. “What happened, mama?”

“Oh, you would have been lost without him! Going out for a ride in horrific weather, what were you thinking?” your mother was working up into one of her fits of hysteria.

“Mama!” you broke her off. “Lost without whom?”

“Oh, Anthony, of course! He saw you get thrown from your horse, and he carried you all the way back on his. He personally saw that the doctor was fetched, too, wonderful boy,” she gushed.

You fiddled with the comforter, unsure of what to say.

There was a knock on the door. You turned your head to see Anthony standing there, fidgeting with his signet ring just as he did in the days immediately following his father’s death.

“I shall leave you two to have a moment of privacy,” your mother whispered as she stood.

You attempted to reach out to her, stop her, but she was too quick. She beckoned the two maids to follow her but left the door open for propriety’s sake.

Anthony did not move from his position near the door even after your mother vacated the room. The air felt heavy, and you were finding it hard to breathe. You smoothed the bedcovers although they were practically perfect.

“I am so relieved you are awake,” Anthony croaked, his voice raspy with disuse.

You steadfastly continued your study of the linens. “I am told I have you to thank for that, my lord.” You congratulated yourself on keeping your tone even.

“Will you stop that?” Anthony’s tone was sharp, and you finally looked at him fully. His face was drawn, and it was clear he had not shaved in a few days.

“Stop what, my lord?” you asked, genuinely confused.

He walked towards your bed, his face red. “Calling me that,” he practically spat.

You scoffed, not believing he was truly acting so childish. “Well, it is your title. It would be improper for me not to -”

“Marry me, then.”

You must have hit your head harder than you thought for you were certainly hearing things. “What?” you breathed.

Anthony knelt at your side and took your hand tenderly in his. “Marry me, (Y/N), please,” he implored. He shook his head. “I should have asked you ten years ago, but I thought I could prevent my heart from breaking by not letting it be touched.” His gaze fell on your joined hands. He cleared his throat. “I was a fool. I disregarded the fact that it had already been stolen from me.”

His warm brown orbs found yours, and you felt your heart climb into your throat. You took a rattling breath as your eyes stung with tears.

“Anthony…” you breathed.

No further words were needed as your lips joined in the kiss you had always been waiting for.

My Masterlist

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton angst #anthony bridgerton fluff #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony x reader #regency #bridgerton #bridgerton season 2

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harunayuuka2060 · 6 months

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MC: *got slapped by Riddle's mom*

Riddle's mom: How dare you... GO AFTER MY SON?!!!

Riddle: M-Mother!

MC: ...

MC: *smiles mischievously* But Mama~ I'm really serious about Riddle~.

MC: Besides~ Isn't he old enough to make his own decisions?

MC: And also~ I want to praise Mama for raising Riddle~. Thank you, really~.

Riddle's mom: Y-You... STAY AWAY FROM RIDDLE!!!

Riddle: Mother! Stop this! Senpai was only here to-

MC: Eh~ I can't do that~. *giggles* I'm especially fond of your son~.

Riddle: S-Senpai! Let's go! *dragging MC away*

Riddle's mom: Come back here! Riddle! RIDDLE!

Trey: I am really sorry! I shouldn't have asked you to fetch Riddle from his house.

Cater: And now you got accused of trying to elope with him.

Trey, Cater, and Riddle: *decided to invite MC to hang out with them*

Trey: But I'm just wondering... What made Mrs. Rosehearts draw that conclusion?

Riddle: Well... *glancing at MC*

MC: *who's wearing a princely outfit with subtle sexiness*

Trey and Cater: ...

Trey: Okay. We get it.

Cater: Even so, couldn't you have just told her that you were there to get Riddle? Why did you have to tease her?

MC: Because I wanted to see the resemblance between Riddle and his mom~.

MC: Let's say I'm not disappointed~. *giggles*

Riddle: *frowns*

Cater: You know what... This is killing me.

MC: *being approached by ladies from time to time*

Cater: I feel invisible.

Trey: *chuckles* You're popular too. Just not today.

Random lady: *noticed Riddle* Wha~ Who's he? He's so cute!

MC: Him~? My fiancé~.

Riddle: Huh?

Trey and Cater: ...

Random lady: Aww... You're about to be married? Too bad.

Random lady: Anyway! Good luck to both of you! *and she left*

Riddle: Fiancé? Are you out of your mind, senpai?!

MC: Eh~ But they keep on coming~.

MC: I want to enjoy my food too~.

Riddle: ...

Riddle: Yeah. You haven't eaten anything yet.

MC: Will you feed me, Riddle~?

Riddle: Wh-Wh-WHAT?! Why would I do that?!

MC: Because you are my fiancé~. *smiles*

Riddle: I am not your fiancé!

Riddle: Senpai? Come downstairs. The food is ready-

MC: *is in the middle of changing*

MC and Riddle: ...

MC: *teasingly smiles*

Riddle: *clears throat* Please excuse me. *closes the door and locks it*

Trey: Riddle, why is your face red?

Riddle: Nothing.

Cater: You sure?

Riddle: Yes.

Trey and Cater: ...

Trey: Riddle, you're pouring tea on a plate.

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst riddle #twst trey #twst cater #blithesome!mc

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dreamscribee · 1 month

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💎A Diamond's Destiny💎

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

𐙚 Anthony Bridgerton x female reader

𐙚 Here's PART 1 - make sure to read it before continuing!

𐙚 Summary: In this captivating story, Lady Bridgerton's plan to win the Queen's favor involves you in unexpected intrigue. Your lessons with the charming Lord Julian Ashford take a complicated turn when Anthony Bridgerton shows subtle jealousy. Anthony's request to escort you to the ball hints at deeper feelings, but the plot thickens when you receive a surprise invitation for a private audience with the Queen. This development promises a night full of potential changes and revelations.

𐙚 Word Count: 394 (words), 2,380 (characters)

𐙚 Warning: Like the last chapter, this one ends with a cliffhanger. Stay tuned for more hehehe.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The following day brought a promise of intrigue and revelation. After a morning filled with the chatter and clatter of the Bridgerton household, Lady Bridgerton summoned you to the drawing room where a surprise awaited—an elegant harp veiled under a cloth. She revealed it with a flourish, announcing that it was the key to capturing the Queen’s favor at the upcoming ball.

"Your surprise, my dear. Nothing charms quite like music," she declared, winking.

"I suppose it’s time I learn then," you responded with a skeptical lift of your eyebrow, secretly hoping your musical talents were less dreadful than you remembered.

As it turned out, your music tutor was not the stern, old master you had envisioned, but a young and rather attractive Lord Julian Ashford, known for his musical prowess and charming demeanor. The lesson was filled with laughter and playful banter, although your ability to coax melody from the harp remained questionable.

During a particularly humorous moment, Anthony Bridgerton walked in, his eyes narrowing slightly upon seeing Lord Ashford's guiding hand close to yours. His arrival brought a subtle chill to the warm room.

"Am I interrupting?" Anthony asked, a hint of steel in his tone.

"Not at all, Mr. Bridgerton. Lady Y/N was just mastering the crescendo," Lord Ashford replied smoothly, stepping away with a knowing smile.

Anthony offered his arm, which you accepted, feeling the firm warmth of his grip. "You play beautifully," he said, though you sensed a measure of restraint.

"I only hope to avoid complete disgrace," you quipped, earning a reluctant smile from him.

Before lunch, Anthony formally asked to escort you to the ball, to which you playfully agreed, provided he spared your toes during the dance. His laughter in response lightened the air between you.

However, as you were about to discuss further, a footman delivered a letter from the Queen, requesting a private audience with you that very afternoon. The surprise caught everyone off guard, including yourself.

"The Queen wishes to see me alone?" you murmured, sharing a puzzled look with Anthony.

What could the Queen want with you? And how would this change the events of the coming ball? As you headed to the royal palace, your heart raced with anticipation, leaving Anthony watching, his expression a mix of concern and hope. The stage was set for a night that could change everything.

#bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagines #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction

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ghost-1-y · 6 months

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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!

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.

Taglist: @k-a-t-h-r-i-n-a, @wow-im-gay, @peanutpunchy, @love-me-satoru, @crazycatlddy, @pastelbluecloudy3, @dinosaur-crime-scene, @llearlert, @thisbicc, @gojoscumslut, @everyonesfinaldestination, @leehoonii-i, @roronoagem, @briefrebelfanalmond, @izuoyarmin, @ahashiraswife, @d1gitalbathh, @homo-homini-lupus-est-1701, @whatthefucksatan, @peachdues, @xxsabitoxx (If your name is crossed out, it means tumblr didn't allow me to tag you. Apologies for the inconvenience.)

I hope y'all enjoyed :)

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piccolos-bigtoe · 2 months

Text

Hello everypony,,, I've been gone for a hot minute O.o Haven't I.... Anyways heres another fake book cover. I really haven't been in a huge drawing mood, and I miss it a lot. I want to keep practicing these because it's fun and I want to make cool posters for myself and stuff like that. I copied it from another cover (down below...) because the title was too funny. I don't know what a truckers chicken is, I don't know why truckers would have chickens (animal or food??). I looked at the word trucker so much that it's just gibberish to me and I had to check over and over if it was spelt right LOL.

Sniper my queen,,,, release the tatas... Ignore the backgroudn. ofc I know how to draw trucks.. Okay Inknow what ypu'er thinking, dear reader, "Gee whiz Piccolos-Bigtoe!!! ANOTHER speeding bullet drawing? AND shirtless Sniper??? How very original of you..." and you're right, it is original, and I'm not sure if I've done it before now, but I will keep doing it. Lowkey it is my coping at this point,,, I project my personal issues onto them to make writing about it easier.... Blah

I'm going to be real right now with you all.... controversial opinion ahead........ I am not compelled by the thought of soft gentle twink Scout. Before you boo me and throw tomatoes- I think he's fun and cool, and I enjoy others depictions, but I like to imagine him as some an asshole overconfident wanna be hunk, annoying, reactive, always talking up a big game about mostly useless things but he can't handle his ego being bruised. but it's all a facade to hide his true emotions that he feels deep down (BOOO CLICHE!!!!)... </3 I went crazy Sunday night,, wrote like a whole thing about it.

Also I almost got into an accident today because while I was driving home from work some old lady decided to pull out from a parking lot and gave me like 5 seconds to slam on the breaks. Good bye until next time. Which is hopefully soon. I miss drawing

#tf2 #my art #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanart #tf2 sniper #tf2 scout #sniperscout #speeding bullet

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 2 months

Note

Is it perhaps ok to ask for a single father reader? Like his child is still young, like 2-3, and reader is kinda like Tanjiro and Ubuyashiki from demon slayer? I would really like to see all the characters but I’d definitely like to see Tecchou, Jouno, Atsushi and Chuuya the most, I hope this isn’t too much or bad

Single Father! Reader

Self-Aware! BSD Cast x Male! Single Father! Reader

Description: It was supposed to be another normal day. Until your phone start glowing.

Warning: OOC, English is my second language

It was 9 pm, when you finally get home.

Before entering your apartment, you take a few breaths and put a smile on your face. With a knock, you turn your keys and opened the door.

Immediately you heard a sound of small footsteps. A three-year-old toddler waggle towards you.

Mrs. Greenhill, sweet old lady, your neighbor, followed after them. You were Incredibly lucky, that she agreed to look after [K/N], while you were at work. You nodded at her.

"Good evening, Mrs. Greenhill"

Your crouched down and hug your kid.

"Hello, [K/N]."

[K/N] giggle. They hugged you.

"Daddy home!"

Mrs. Greenhill's voice was soft.

"[K/N] were a good kid today. They were well-behaved in a daycare, ate their veggies and draw you a picture, [Y/N]."

Your kid giggle again. They wiggle out of your hold and, after taking your hand, start walking towards living room.

"Gift for daddy! Look!"

You followed [K/N], but turn your head towards Mrs. Greenhill.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Greenhill. Have I ever thanked you for..."

Old lady raised her head.

"Every day, few times a day. Don't be nervous, [Y/N], you aren't looking ungrateful. I am happy to help."

You smiled again.

It was hard to be a single parent. Your parents were against you keeping [K/N] and insisted on giving them up to adoption. When you refused, they cut all contacts with you. The rest of the family were either on their side, or ignored both you and them.

So, you and your kid were living in a small apartment, that you rented, and you were working from dusk till dawn to earn money on a dead end job (with minimal wage), so your kid can have a happy life. You, once again, mentally thanked Mrs. Greenhill for agreeing to babysit [K/N]. She was a true savior.

_____

🐾 As usual, you insisted on Mrs. Greenhill staying for dinner. As usual, after she left, you played with [K/N]. As usual, you two watch some cartoons, you read [K/N] a bedtime story and put them to bed. As usual, you prepared for tomorrow's day. As usual, you spent thirty minutes before bed to read some manga and play some games on your app. As usual, your phone glow white. As usual, BSD Characters appeared in your flat...

🐾 BSD Cast were expecting disbelief or shouting. Not heavy tired gaze, and "Congrats, [Y/N], you went crazy, what a pity...". And they didn't expect you to turned out the light and went straight to bed.

🐾 Next morning, you wake up because of delicious smell. Your yesterday's hallucinations were still here and they were cooking breakfast. What nice hallucinations. Or you are being robbed by a nice burglars.

And then you heard it. [K/N]'s voice. They were giggling. And giggles came from the kitchen.

You saw white. Without second thought, you ran into the kitchen. You grabbed first person who got into your way and growl.

"Let go of my kid!"

🐾BSD cast looked towards you nervously. Kunikida's glasses almost fall down from his nose, while he was trying to get away from your grip. Oda, despite looking at you, somehow managed to feed [K/N] a few more spoons of porridge. Your kid was giggling.

🐾 It took thirty minutes to calm you down. After that, BSD Cast finally explained, what was happening. And what they were planning to do next.

About how grateful they were. About wanting to live together, promising to make sure, that you and [K/N] will always have helpers and enough money.

And, if you don't want to stay with them, they promised monthly payments, so you could support you and your kid for the rest of [K/N]'s life.

Halfway through story, you noticed, that you were incredibly late for work. Well, you guess, you should start searching for a new job.

And then you heard Fitzgerald plans on paying you for your kindness.

...

The situation was too bizarre. You need fresh air. And a walk with [K/N] through the park.

You hopped, that you will think about, what to do next.

_______

🐾 The next few days were busy. You packed up all your things, officially quitted your job, says goodbye to Mrs. Greenhill and moved to a new house with your new friends (a.k.a. new uncles, aunts, grandparents and siblings for [K/N].

And BSD Cast start learning about new side of you. About Dad [Y/N]. And about being a big family.

_____

🐯 Atsushi act as older brother figure for [K/N]. He took it upon himself to pick them up from a daycare.

After realizing, how much you were doing for your kid and how hard it was, start respecting you even more.

📒 Kunikida is helping to teach [K/N] new things. Try to teach them about planning, but [K/N] asked "Uncle Kida" to play instead. [K/N] used puppy dog eyes. It was super effective.

🩺 Yosano is making sure, that [K/N] is healthy. And she is monitoring your health, to make sure, that all this month of overworking didn't cause any damage.

🌨️ Junchirou makes dessert for Naomi and [K/N]. He uses his ability to make [K/N]'s games more interesting.

👩🏻 Naomi took the role of big sister very serious. Makes sure, that kid are doing great.

🍵 Kirako took [K/N] to play with cats.

🛏️ Katai is finding computer games and kid cartoons for [K/N]. Monitor kids nap time.

🐄 Kenji is teaching [K/N] about farm animals and gardening. Immediately got a cow, so everyone could have fresh milk every day.

🐰 Kyouka is another big sister. She is a little bit more awkward, than Naomi, but she is doing her best.

🕵🏻 Ranpo is mischievous older brother. He is seeking candies for [K/N].

👘🗡️ You and him are members of Tired Dads(tm) club. Helps you to look after [K/N].

🪢🦀 Dazai is a fun uncle. He tries not to joke about ending his life near kid.

💉 Mori is another member of Tired Dads(tm) club. Buy your kid everything he can buy.

🍷 Chuuya is another fun uncle. He competes for kid's love with Dazai.

Respects you for being a young caring father. Ready to help you at any time of the day.

🌂 Kouyou became a mother figure for a kid. Helps you with tips on how to take care of a child.

🇫🇷 Verlaine is more distant uncle. He plays with kid and acts as a bodyguard for you and [K/N].

🎧 Rimbaud is another bodyguard. Will do anything for a kid, even play in snow during winters.

🏍️ Albatross bought at least dozens toy cars for a kid. Can't wait for a kid to grow up, so he can take kid on a motorcycle ride.

🧑‍⚕️ Doc is another doctor for a kid. Will make cast, so kid could draw on it.

🧊 Iceman is a quiet uncle. Will took kid for an ice cream, while uncles Chuuya and Dazai are arguing.

🗣️ Lippman will prepare kid for kids shows in a daycare/kindergarten. Will took thousands of pictures with mini-actor [K/N].

🎹 Piano Man is another guardian. Plays with kid almost every day.

🧥 Akutagawa tries to act as soft as he can near kid. Will be the one, who protect kid from bullies.

🔫 Higuichi is picking up cute outfits for kid. Wants to go to Disneyland with them.

🚬 Hirotsu is kid's grandpa. Takes kid for walks.

🔪 Gin is another big sister. Learn little dances with a kid.

🩹🧲 Tachihara is another big brother. And took his seriously. No one would dare to make kid cry in his presence.

🍰⭐⭕🚸 👧🏻 Aya, Oda's kids, Kyuusaku, Elise and [K/N] created a kids club. They play and have fun together.

💎 Karma is trying to look after kids. Often got sucked in their games.

🍋 Kajii will teach kid about science. He is very careful and only shows harmless experiments.

🍛 Oda is another member of Tired Dads (tm) club. Main babysitter for all kids. Very good at taking care of the kids.

💰 Fitzgerald is paying for everything. He also can't help, but cancel his plans, so he can play with [K/N].

🦝 Poe writes simple stories, so kid can practice their reading skills. Proud uncle, will treat everything kid wrote as a masterpiece.

🐋 Melville is another grandpa. Tells kid stories about sea and travels. Will play pirates with kids.

🐙 Lovecraft let kids climb over his monster form. He literally became a playground.

🍇♊ Twain and Steinbeck are taking kid on small"adventures". On a small works in forest, where they hide treasure chests with toys and candies.

☕ Lucy is another big sister. Try to compete with Kyouka for kid's love. Annie's room became a playground for a kid.

🪶 Alcott is quiet aunt. She is planning trips with kid, so they would be happy at the end.

👒 ✝️ Hawthorne and Mitchell control others, so they won't over-spoil the kid. Make sure, that kid are well-behaved and good.

😷 Pushkin read stories for a kid. Surprisingly nice and soft towards kid.

🫖 Goncharov prepares lunches for a kid.

🐀 Fyodor is playing cello for the kid. It feels strange, to hear cello cover of "Baby Shark" song.

🦇 Bram is another member of Tired Dads (tm) Club. Look after kid. Sometimes, will fly, while holding kid in his arms.

🤡 Nikolai is teaching kid magic tricks. Will always try to make him smile. Kid's partner in crime.

🃏 Sigma teaches kid new games. Shares cookies with them.

⚔️ Fukuchi is the last member of Tired Dads (tm) Club. Will be the one, who will deal with adults, who tries to make kid cry.

👧👩👵 Teruko is a spy in disguise. Will use her, ability to pretend to be a preschooler, so she can protect kid from bullies.

🌸 Tetchou will always gives kid piggyback rides. Will also play sports with kid.

Want you to teach him how to be as mentally strong as you are. You became his hero.

💧 Jouno is making sure, that Tetchou didn't overdo himself. Will play with kid hide and seek.

He thinks, that you are a very strong person. He will always remind you about your strength, when you became sad.

⛩️ Chief Taneda is another grandpa. Teach kid about different cultures.

💻 Ango play simple computer games with kid. Protective over them.

🥷 Tsujimura is playing spies with kid. Want to show kid her favorite spy movies in a future.

🕶️ Ayatsuji is making paper dolls with kid. He has a whole shelf of dolls made by kid in his doll collection.

👻 Mushitarou plays with kid. Plans to told them scary stories when they became old enough.

⌚ Gide keeps his distance. But he will be the scariest one (after you), if someone hurt the kid.

🐉🍎🍏 Shibusawa collects cool rocks and shells with kid.

🐈‍⬛ Natsume will play with kid in his cat form.

🤖 Adam became literal "robot-nanny". With Chuuya's help, he is becoming better and better.

#self-awarebsd #self-awareau #bungou stray dogs au #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd anime #bsd x male reader #bungou stray dogs x male reader #male reader

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flamingpudding · 10 months

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Summoning Gone Wrong

Ties to: Ouija Board Prompt and Ghost Hunting Vigilantes Part 1 / Part 2

A/N: Thanks to @lazy-alex for commenting the base idea in Ghost Hunting Vigilantes for Tim trying to do a summoning that just goes wrong~

Danny calmly sipped the ecto-tea and resisted eyeing the ghost club Lady Gotham had placed next to her as she also drank her tea with all the elegance the spirit possessed. The Ghost King was pretty sure she had placed it like that, in his view, on purpose. He just wasn't sure if it was as a warning or as a preparation since the last couple of times he had been in Gotham, she had felt the need of using it against him.

"I am very glad that you are finally looking into that matter, your highness." The spirit commented, placing the cup back onto the table and refilling it. "I wasn't sure if you had been made aware of it before, if I had known that the old beings had not mentioned it to you before I certainly would have sooner."

Danny nodded. "Yeah, about that. What are these Lazarus Pits anyway? Clockwork only told me to look out for the color green, which is not helpful. And Pandora started on an entire history lesson regarding Lazarus and I am pretty sure that has nothing to do with these Pits your 'knights' mentioned."

Lady Gotham chuckled amused with mirth in her eyes. "They are only known as Lazarus Pits in the human world, my king, not in the Infinite Realms."

"So what…" Danny couldn't finish his question as his ghost sense went off. He really wanted to slam his head into the table. It had been months since his senses went off like that and he hoped it was just Cujo who followed him or Fright Knight. But as no one appeared to interrupt them, he got ticked off because that meant it was one of his former rogues who was up to something. He excused himself from his discussion with Lady Gotham who appeared even more amused than before.

Whoever it was he would send them straight back to the Ghost Zone, they were interrupting some important kingly business here!

A little earlier not too far away from the ghostly discussion, by a recent regularly vigilante visited occult site, three vigilantes stood before a summoning cycle.

Red Robin was crouching by the circle, chalk in hand as he drew runes and symbols on the ground all according to one of his research papers that summed up all the information he had gathered. Including information he had obtained from the Justice League Dark, mainly Constantine since the man owned him and wouldn't just tell on him, behind Batman's back.

It had been weeks since their last encounter with the teenage ghost. He didn't want to admit it but Red Robin was getting worried about the ghost. Both times when they left they sounded like something was hunting or hurting them and last time there was even that green swirly thing they saw for a short moment right after they had heard the ghost say their goodbyes with an actual voice. Besides, that ghost was a mystery to them and Red Robin wasn't known to leave any sort of mystery they encountered unsolved.

"Should we really do this without B?" Nightwing asked, eyeing the strange symbols the youngest among them was drawing on the ground.

"Fuck him. If we get him involved we wouldn't be doing this at all." Red Hood added crossing his arms. "I am more surprised that its only us three this time. I would have bet that at least one of the others would have joined too."

"Baby Bat is out on a mission with B. Spoiler and Orphan are on a outer space mission and Signal has an exam tomorrow." Nightwing shrugged. "It's probably better form Robin not to be here. He was pretty spooked after the last two times."

"Ha! Spooked? The kid is dead set on Pit Demons trying to kill us."

"We can't comple-"

"Finished the writing." Red Robin cut in dusting his gloves from chalk, he was still kneeling on the ground as he turned to the older two vigilantes holding his hands out expectantly. "Nightwing, you brought the candles?"

The vigilante in question handed over a plastic back with the label of a gas station. Red Hood titled his head in question, indicating that he was raising an eye brow under his helmet. The elder only shrugged sheepishly as Red Robin stared at the colorful duck candles it contained.

"I forgot you asked me to buy some and went last minute to the late night open counter gas station. They only had these colorful duck candles."

"Well our fucking ghost has some Humor. Might work better for them then."

Red Robin only sighed but still placed the candles in the circle the way Constantine had described to him. "We will have to see if this will work."

He had made sure to also draw up a protective circle around the summoning one just like Zatana had instructed and Constantine had insisted he would need. Lighting up the candles he stepped back next to his brothers.

"So according to Constantine, we are now supposed to recite a summoning spell and think about the ghost we talked to before to call them back to us."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"So…" Red Robin distributed a piece of paper to each of his brothers. "We start on three."

"One…."

"Wait let me read that shit first!"

"Two…"

"Slow down, little bird."

"Three."

The three of them definitely were not in sync. Nightwing struggled with some of the words while Red Hood ended up mixing in some chosen curse words when he stumbled over a word. Red Robin even though he had practiced before still struggled with some of the words also but still all three managed to get through the incarnation.

They waited with their breaths held for something to happen but the seconds ticked by, with nothing happening. After three minutes Red Robin let out a sigh, deciding that this was a failure.

Just as he was about to step up to the circle to blow out the candles, a green swirling portal like the one he had briefly seen last time opened on the ground where the summoning circle was and a figure rose up from it. The figure was entirely dressed in white with black gloves, boots, belt and hat. Their skin was just as white as the clothes they were wearing and the being was staring back at them with completely green eyes, no irises or pupils. They stood firmly and straight in the summoning circle, arms crossed behind their back and by the way they were holding themself appeared like an authority figure.

"That doesn't look like a 16 years old ghost." Red Hood commented, his hand resting on his gun holder as he stared down their summon.

"Red, you did follow all the instructions right." Nightwing asked his hands, also moving to take out his escrima sticks, eying the being that was now looking at them in what he assumed was contempt.

"Yes, I did." Turning to their summon the vigilantes eyed it carefully. "Hi, sorry about the sudden summon. You obviously aren't the 16 years old ghost we had been talking to before. So uhm, you are free to go again? Unless you happen to know a 16 year old ghost that had been to Gotham at least two times now?"

The summoned being didn't look like they were going to answer, instead they took out a green glowing book that had 'RULES' written on it and leafed through the pages. Stopping when it apparently found a certain page. Their eyes focusing on the page then back at them. Still not grazing them with an answer. Red Robin however noticed how their inclined their head, for a short moment, over to Red Hood before turning back to the book and turning a couple of more pages.

He hadn't been the only one as he felt Nightwing tensing next to him too as well as heard the soft click of Red Hood removing the safety from his gun.

"Unauthorized summoning with out of date summoning methods. Interruption of security works. Unauthorized usage of corrupted ectoplasmic waste and apparent coverup of a human infected by corrupted ectoplasm." The being listed and the three couldn't help but feel reminded of a policeman listing crimes.

"I, Walker, reappointed Warden by his majesty the Ghost King and self appointed head chief of the security department of the Infinite Realms, hereby declare all of you under arrest for the previously listed offenses. Especially you, punk." The ghost called Walker pointed at Red Hood who in return pulled out his guns pointing them back at it. "You will be presented directly to our King. To think there would be a subject that failed to report back their existence."

"The fuck you wanna do? I ain't going anywhere." Red Hood scoffed, his distorted voice sounding challenging towards the ghost.

"Not to be rude but how can he report something he didn't even know about." Nightwing added eying the ghost as well as the protective barrier. The being hadn't made a move toward them yet and it should keep it contained but that didn't mean they just could let their guard down, not like he would let them take any of his brothers anywhere either. He took a step forward in case he needed to cover his younger siblings, protectiveness stirring in him. "RR, did Constantine or Zatana give you a spell to forcefully send them back?"

"Not exactly but they said destroying the summoning circle should send them back instantly." Red Robin mused after glancing at his notes for a brief moment. He didn't dare look away from that ghost for longer than needed. Normally he would be thrilled about having summoned a ghost and probably ask it a bunch of questions he had, ever since their first encounter with that 16 years old ghost left him with a tone of unanswered ones, but not with this one.

"Maybe we should-"

"WALKER! NOT AGAIN! BACK TO THE ZONE NOW!" A white haired 16 years old looking flying boy appeared through the wall without destroying it like he just phased in. The three vigilantes stared at the new presence that looked rather ticked off. The teenager had a cosmic with green flame outlined looking crown floating over their head and were wearing a jumpsuit with a logo that looked like a flaming D.

"Hey could that be our little ghost bastard?" Hood more or less stage-whispered over to Nightwing and Red Robin.

"Looks 16, maybe younger but not like what I imagined." Nightwing mused.

"Ghost Kid -ahem- your Highness, perfect Timing. I was just about to apprehend-"

"No." The teenager interrupted, arms crossed as he floated before the other ghost. "We went over this when I appointed you as the Warden again. Back. To. The. Zone."

"Did… did that other ghost call him 'highness' just now?" The more he got to learn about ghosts the more questions appeared to come up and Red Robin would definitely need answers for all of them.

"Your Highness, we need to-"

"Back now!" The teen repeated as he moved his left arm to point at a portal he opened especially for Walker. "Or do I have to get Lady Gotham to kick you out of her haunt herself?"

Red Robin watched how the two ghosts appeared to have a stare down before the white one closed his rule book and bowed before leaving. Well he would have left if he didn't smack right into the protective wall the vigilante had set up before the summoning. Good to know that Constantine's advice worked.

"Pff - cough -" The teenager covered his mouth, hiding a laugh behind a cough as he closed the portal he had opened and reopened it inside the barrier. The white ghost only sent them the most disgruntled and offended glare Red Robin had seen in a while before going through the portal the teen had opened.

Before either of the three could say anything the teenager let out a sigh and muttered something about having to deal with Walker being naggingly annoying about security and summonings later again. As if noticing them for the first time the boy glanced over at them and instantly stiffed and Red Robin definitely saw recognition in the boy's glowing green eyes. Could it be...?

"Shit." The teenager cursed. Yup, that's him.

"You are-"

"Sorry, no time for talking, gotta get back to Lady Gotham." They interrupted before continuing to ramble on. "You don't really want to make an old spirit with a ghost club wait. You guys better forget what you saw here. I would like Man In Black wipe your memory if I could but well for now please don't attempt summoning like that again? Summonings like that are outdated and barely work correctly for us ghosts. Demon summonings are a different matter but for ghosts this won't work correctly anymore or at least not since I got the stupid crown. You either end up with some random ghost or Walker trying to arrest humans. I soo have enough of getting him back from all the attempts of arresting humans that broke 'summoning rules'. Maybe I should have Fright Night arrest Walker for forcing his summon whenever he notices human summons… Anyway! Don't try again. Okay? Okay. Thanks and bye!"

The boy blinked out of existence before any of them could get a word in. The three vigilantes stared at the now empty spot. Red Robin had so many more additional questions now after having heard the presumed ghost teens ramble. So if the summons from the Justice League Dark were outdated then maybe he would need to find a more modern summoning? Also the teen had mentioned a Lady Gotham and Red Robin could only assume that that had to be their local city's spirit judging by the name.

"Well… we know now what our ghost boy looks like." Nightwing offered after some time and Red Hood scoffed.

"How the fuck was that boy a ghost? He looked more like a meta kid than a ghost."

"Well judging by the voice he definitely was the one that talked the last two times."

"So Demon Brat's Pit Demon theory is true?"

"He didn't lo-"

"I am going to try and summon this Lady Gotham next." Red Robin cut in as he turned on his heel, determined to get to the bottom of this ghost mystery even if he had to pester the JLD members for a while.

""What?""

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maltesejjong · 7 days

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after being ia for so long, and losing the passwords to my original tumblr and wattpad accts, i am happy to say i am BACK, even if you don’t know who i am lmao. For now, imma be doing reposts of my old tumblr and wattpad posts before i start new content. Enjoy!

꒰ঌ(⃔ ⌯' '⌯)⃕໒꒱

What’s Really Going On?

Summary: you and you boyfriend Minho have been together for a while now. Years, as a matter of fact. There’s no reason for there to be secrets, especially when it comes to your body. But after missing an appointment you had been anticipating and tension from an argument nights prior still brewing, the truth comes spilling out

WARNINGS: dom!minho, afab!reader, oral sex (both receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it please y’all don’t be stupid), use of traffic light system, fingering (reader receiving), swearing, mentions of pregnancy complications, i think that’s it? Please lmk if i missed anything

Wc: 5971

MINORS DNI, THIS CONTAINS 18+ CONTENT

5:30 pm

You sigh and pocket your phone. Fifteen minutes. He's fifteen minutes late.

Of course, he's been late before, but never like this.

Fifteen minutes, you normally let slide. You just can't imagine that he'd be late when today is so important.

"Y/n! Babe!"

You turn at the sound of your name, and somewhere in you, even though it's not fair, you think eighteen minutes.

Nevertheless, you pocket your frustration and smile the smile only he can draw from you.

"Minho!"

He comes up to you, putting his arm around your waist and kissing your cheek. "I'm so sorry, baby. Traffic was horrible," he explains.

You understand, of course. It's a random Wednesday, but a major band is in town, and 500 lucky people in the area got free tickets.

But that isn't why today is so important to you.

"Why didn't you leave sooner?" You ask, slightly miffed that he ignored your suggestion to stay the night with you, so you would both be on time.

Minho doesn't answer, but you're sure you know what he's thinking. "Babe," you say, holding his arm to make him look at you, " I'm not mad, okay? It was just a bit...much." You bite down in the apology trying to jump from your lips, knowing it could just do more damage.

"What?" He looks slightly confused, as if he forgot the argument you two got in a few days ago. "Oh," he says as the memory resurfaces, "I know. I'm just thinking. Nothing bad, y/n. Just work stuff."

"Okay..."

You arrive your appointment with ten minutes to spare, feeling thankful for the cop that had created a barricaded lane for people not going to the concert, making it easier to navigate the traffic-choked streets of your usually quiet city.

"Wait here," you whisper to Minho. "Hi," you say as you approach the lady behind the desk, "I have an appointment with Mia Loffe."

The secretary, who you've never seen a day in your life at Mia's, types something on her keyboard. "Of course... Let me see... Okay, what's your name, dear?"

You swallow the reaction trying to escape at being called "dear" by someone so young. "Y/n Bang."

"Bang... Bang..." she mumbles to herself, searching what must be a busy schedule. You know Mia's been slammed with work, but she made sure there there was at least an hour for you to come in.

You even booked an appointment, something you never do with Mia, just in case.

"Okay, um, Ms.Bang?" Dread fills your stomach. "It says here that some things had to be rescheduled, but Ms. Loffe has maybe ten minutes, if you'd like to pop back there real quick."

"I, uh... No, that's alright," you say, knowing that Mia is probably getting ready for her next appointment. You don't hold it against her for not letting you know that between last night and today, there was a shift in schedule. "Can I leave a message with you? I don't want to call her while she's working. Will you please just tell Mia to call me when she's not busy?"

The secretary scratches the note onto a pieces of paper and sticks it onto her computer. "Of course. Is there anything else I can do?"

"No," you say, trying to fight the sinking feeling in your chest. "No, thank you though. Have a nice day."

"You, too, Ms. Bang."

You round the corner to see Minho scrolling through his phone. "C'mon," you say quietly.

Minho looks up at you. "Hey." He stands up. "Did Mia kick you out or something?"

You don't answer, except to say "There was a change in schedale, so i'm comine back another You don't answer, except to say "There was a change in schedule, so I'm coming back another day." You can't help but feel annoyed at your boyfriend for his lateness. Mia had even said to make sure you were there at least thirty minutes beforehand, just in case. This, you feel, is largely Minho's fault.

Minho picks up that you don't really want to talk, and doesn't pry as you drive back to your place together.

"Babe," Minho says softly once he's closed your front door, "What's wrong?"

You keep your back to him, trying to contain your feelings. "Nothing, Minho. I'm just a little tired," you lie.

"Why don't you change, and we can watch a movie?" He suggests. "I'll order takeout later, okay?"

You agree, and go change into one of his hoodies and a pair of shorts. When you come back to the living room, you see that your boyfriend's hands have not been idle. He set up a little nest of blankets and pillows on the couch, just the way you like it when you watch movies together, snuggled in close and pressed against one another.

"Is this okay?" He asks when he hears you behind him. "I wasn't sure how much you wanted snuggles, but..." he trails off as he turns and takes in your outfit. No matter how often Minho has seen you wear something of his, it gives him a rush every time.

Clearing his throat, he says "What do you want to watch?" Your ongoing agreement is that you get authority over movie snacks, and he gets authority over what food gets ordered. You both always pick what the other likes most, though, and you switch off who gets to pick the movie.

"I don't really care," you say dismissively. "You can choose. I just want muddy buddies and popcorn."

He smiles warmly, hiding his concern behind deep chocolate eyes. "Choi's alright?"

You nod, as he knew you would. "Don't forget the crab ran-goons and crispy beef," you say, putting a bag of popcorn into the microwave and nuking it.

"Oh, and egg rolls."

"Babe, I got it," he teases. "You act like I haven't known you for twelve years."

"And loved me just as long," you say to yourself, remembering the day your older brother, Chan, came home with his newfound friend, someone named Lee Minho. It wasn't the fact the he was Korean. No, Chan had lots of Korean friends, and you had you fair share. It wasn't his name. It wasn't his age or complexion.

It was his eyes. The way his nose crinkles when he smiles. It was how he acts like the mom of the group, even to the guys older than him, reminding someone to put on sunscreen, or, more often than not, cooking for everyone.

Later, it was also the way he started to look at you, like you weren't "Chan's kid sister" but a girl worth his attention, even though you're three years younger than him. It started as getting more "older brother" attention than the others. Then, you learned what flirting is. It became shy touches and bold smiles. Inside jokes and feeling jumpy if Chan was there when you were together. It became hidden kisses and climbing onto one another's rooftop in the middle of the night to watch the stars and talk. It became Chan walking in the room right when your lips touched Minho's, blouse slightly unbuttoned.

The microwave beeps, bringing you out if your trip down memory lane. Carefully picking the hot bag up by a corner, and reaching for the bowl you had put on the counter. You sigh as the smell of butter and salt taunts your stomach. You hear sounds from the TV as Minho skims past different movies.

Minho glances over his shoulder at you while you shake some ttekboki into a bowl. You can feel the worry and questions rolling off him. It took years for you to recognize the care, hidden beneath such a brash and forceful facade. He always plays his emotions close to vest, but knows how and when to pull back. That hasn't changed, except now, he has a heart that's completely open to you.

"What did you choose?" you ask, coming into the living room.

He's standing in front of the TV, arms crossed, remote pointed at the screen. "Action movie?"

"Okay," you say, setting the snacks onto the ottoman.

You lose yourself in the movie, and eventually, you don't even notice what's going on in the plot, because, as always, you re more tuned in to the Minho show. Every point where your bodies touch, his warmth, this feeling of security. You smile as his lips touch your neck for what must be the tenth time.

"I'm gonna put the order in," he says, his words warming your skin.

"Okay," you mumble, somewhat sleepily. "I'm taking a bathroom break."

He nods, his phone to his ear.

When you come back, you decide to get some water. You go to the kitchen and reach into the dish rack to get a glass. You aren't really paying attention, and nick your finger on the knife you washed this morning, after cutting an avocado. In your preoccupation with your appointment with Mia, you had left the knife pointing upwards.

"Shit," you yelp, waving your hand.

Minho comes into the kitchen. "What happened?"

"Nothing. Just cut my finger," you say, sucking on the cut, blood staining your tongue.

He gently pulls your finger away and examines the cut. "It's not deep," he says, sounding relieved. "Here." He turns the knob on the sink, and water starts flowing from the faucet.

You gingerly put your finger under the water, hissing at how cold it is. Minho stands behind you, his chest touching your back as he massages your hand under the chilly water.

"You gotta be more careful, y/n," he says with a slight laugh.

You ignore his words, and instead focus on the feeling of his fingers kneading your hand, his breath on your skin. Your pulse quickens predictably. As it always does with him.

"Thanks, babe," you say, gently pulling away, trying to calm yourself, but not entirely sure you want to.

Minho opens the medicine cabinet, searching for a band-aid. "Food'll be here in about half an hour. Maybe 45 minutes," he says, his back to you.

Something in you says "fuck it" and you go over, hugging him from behind.

You feel his muscles jump, but his voice is steady as he says "Hey, pretty girl. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you say, your cheek pressed against his back. You know you should talk to him about the appointment with Mia, but you don't want to. Not yet. You have other things on your mind.

You stand on your tiptoes and press your lips to the back of Minho's neck. He brings his arms down, abandoning his search for a bandage. "Babe?"

"Minho," you say quietly, in the same tone you use every time you're feeling a little naughty.

You can hear him swallow. "Y/n?" He turns to face you and you look into each other's eyes.

After a moment, you lean forward and kiss him, keeping your lips closed. You know he finds this as both an annoyance and a turn-on.

When you pull away, you see confusion in your boyfriend's gaze as he tries to decide which route to take. You know that he's going to wait to see what you do first.

Looking him dead in the eye, you say "Stop being such a gentleman." The code word you use to let him know what mood you're in.

You know he's decided to go with it, that he wants this too, when he says "I've never known a lady who doesn't wait for the man to make the first move."

He kisses you, hard. No playing around, no lead-up. You know this is going to get rough. Just how you like it.

He's still leaning against the counter, and you wrap your arms around his neck, feeling his tongue meet yours. You make some vague noise at the back of your throat as he somehow manages to kiss you even deeper. His hands grip the hem of his hoodie that you're wearing, and he pulls it over your head.

"Thought so," he murmurs against your mouth.

You aren't wearing a shirt. Somehow, no matter what, he always knows. One of the Minho mysteries you have yet to figure out.

Not wanting to waste any time, you yank his shirt over his head. He laughs, tousle-haired and swollen-lipped. You trail your fingers over his lean torso, one of the many results from years of dance. You love that he's a dancer, that he couldn't give less of a shit about stereotypes. It's sexy as hell.

You lean into him, forcing him to practically bend backwards, kissing him as roughly as you possibly can. He slips a hand into your waistband, his fingers teasing. You bunch his hair into your fists, knowing he won't go any further.

Not after the other day.

Not unless you tell him to.

His touch is like fire, burning into your skin. You moan slightly against his lips as his fingers slowly move to your clit, waiting to see if you'll stop him.

You don't.

What you do do is drag your fingers down his chest to his jeans, and start to unbutton them. Something you've done so many times that you could do it with one finger and your eyes closed.

Except.

There's a nervousness zapping your spine and bubbling in your stomach that hasn't been there in a while, making you fumble.

Thinking that your slip is due to him, Minho starts to pull back, but you grab his wrist with your other hand, leaning back to look in his eyes.

"Don't stop," you say.

He swallows, seeming to feel the same nervousness.

He nods and places his lips on yours, kissing his way down your jaw and to your neck, his lips gentle while his fingers are anything but, making your walls clench like crazy.

"Damn, y/n," he mutters.

"Minho... the couch. Please," you say in a strained voice.

He gathers you up and moves into the living room, a short transition in the small apartment.

You lay on your back, biting his neck, his lips, his tongue, as he works a second finger into you. Your hips lift off the couch.

"Y/n."

You look at him, seeing the question in his eyes.

You nod slowly, feeling your stomach jump. You watch him pull his fingers out, covered in your juices. He pulls your shorts down your legs, followed by your panties. He runs the same fingers that were just inside you up your ankle, your leg, to the inside of your thigh.

Minho makes eye contact with you again and you nod firmly. Yes. The green light.

He kisses the inside of your thigh, working his way to your entrance. When he gets there, you re clenching so hard around nothing it hurts. You ball your fists, trying not to make the noises so desperately trying to escape.

You wait, anticipation racking your body until he pushes your legs a little farther apart. Then he gets to work.

Finally, you can't take it anymore. "God, Minho," you moan.

"That's it, baby. Let it go. Sing for me, I want to hear that angelic voice if yours."

It feels so good. Perhaps too good. You can barely believe that you picked an argument with him over this.

You arch your back as his tongue enters your body and he makes some noise when your walls tighten even more. He pulls back and says "Relax, y/n."

"I'm trying," you mutter through clenched teeth.

As if to help, Minho starts rubbing your thigh. "No, babe, that doesn't—-" you cut yourself off, trying to get a grip. "Minho- I can't- agh-"

"Just let go, babe"

That's exactly what you're trying not to do. It's what you got so upset about on Sunday. The way you just lost control, how he encouraged it. He was a little confused, because you used to love it, the rush, the feeling, and now, he said, you're acting like it's your first time all over again. He was hurt because you called him greedy. You regret it, and you know he's going to make sure to make you such a mess and so needy that you really regret it.

One strong suck is all it takes to make you come.

You moan, grabbing at the couch as he pulls away, a devilish smirk on his face. He comes back with his fingers, shoving three fingers into your pussy, his thumb stroking your clit.

"Minho, I can't... You're gonna make me- uh!" You exclaim, coming all over his fingers.

"You know you want me," he hisses, but not maliciously. You shake your head, trembling. "Don't you?"

Again, you shake your head.

"Are you sure?"

"No. I don't want—"

"I can't hear you." He pushes his fingers even deeper.

You bite your lip, trying to pull him closer so you can kiss him, but he just raises an eyebrow in that way that drives you wild and pushes his fingers against your walls.

"One more chance, y/n. You know you want me, don't you?"

Yes," you gasp out. "I want... so bad..."

He smirks. "Who's the greedy one now?"

"Me," you pant. "Greedy bitch. I know. I'm such a dirty-"

"Keep going," he says.

"Dirty ho." Your clit aches painfully against his fingers as a fourth stretches it out. "So... such a- a slut,” you pant, somewhat hysteric.

"Mmm. You can do better than that."

You push him onto his back, yanking his jeans and boxers away.

"There you go," he says.

"In me," you beg. "Please?"

"Hmm.. I don't think you've said 'thank you' yet."

You start kneading around his dick. "Why should I?"

“I require payment," he says, his voice still so steady.

You cup your hand around his erection and start moving up and down. You take the tip of him in your mouth, tongue circling as you suck gently.

"Good girl."

You decide to show no mercy and suck as as you can, making him groan.

"Y/n. I can't-"

"To bad," you snap. "Try."

"God, you're so hot when you're fired up."

"Stops fighting."

"Oh, but then there'll be nothing left for you."

"There always is," you reply. "I’ll even be nice and help you," you say, right before he lets go and comes all over your hand and chin. "There's a good boy."

He pretends that he didn’t whine at the pet name. “Shall we call it even?" He asks, even though you know he's in no way finished.

"Oh, no," you say. "I'll let you choose."

"On your back," he orders. You comply. "And get the bra off. Stop acting like you're some innocent angel."

You drop your bra to the ground, right before he starts kissing your neck, his hands squeezing your breasts.

He moves to sit on your stomach, and you know what's coming. He holds his hand under your chin, and you spit into his palm, obliging. He uses your spit as a lubricant for his dick before he positions it between your tits, moving them back and forth, rubbing against him.

You feel him go hard almost instantly and smile inwardly. You knew he wasn't done yet. He's never down for the count that early on.

"Minho. Stop wasting time."

He raises his eyebrow again. "Who's in charge here?"

“Asshole,” you spit out. “I just fucking tolerate your orders.”

He hums in consideration. "What do you think?”

You stroke the tip of his dick, making him shudder. "Fuck me, Lee Minho. Show me what you've got."

The second you say it, you wish you could take it back.

"Challenge accepted."

This is going to be a long night.

ଘ(´•3•)⊃━☆ଘ(´•3•)⊃━☆ଘ(´•3•)⊃━☆ଘ(´•3•)⊃━☆

You're leaning against the arm of the couch, watching your boyfriend enthusiastically eat a bucketful of shrimp lo mien the same way he had eaten you out not too long ago.

"You hungry?" He asks, using his chopsticks to gather the noodles into his mouth.

"Mmm. Maybe later. I'm just exhausted. Tired."

"But not tired of me, right?"

You flash him an amused look. "Unfortunately not." Your entire body is sore, your legs are weak as hell, and your clit is pounding with pain. You give him an appraising look. "You seemed to hold your own longer than usual."

Minho shrugs, mouth full of noodles. His hair is a tousled mess, his bare chest and neck covered in hickeys and teeth marks. You're sure that you're no different.

You tug the sleeves of his hoodie down over your hands and pick up your phone. "Oh, fuck," you say, realizing that you have a missed call.

"What's up?"

"Mia tried calling me earlier," you tell him. "But..."

"You were a bit busy," he supplies with a shrug. He twists away from you to grab another carton of lo mien, and you see that his back is bright red and covered in scratches. You reach out and trace a puffy red line, feeling him shiver under your touch.

"God, babe. Your fingers are freezing."

You trace another line, realizing that there are tiny beads of blood on his back. "Holy shit. Minho. Baby. Why don't you ever stop me?"

He shrugs, opening the lo mien. "I'm fine with it. I like it. You seem to like it. It also kinda kills the mood.

"But if it hurts—"

"It dushnt," he tells you, noodles hanging from his mouth like octopus tentacles.

"Still. What if I scratch too hard and actually cut you instead of just scraping the surface of your skin? Stop acting like 'the mood' is more important that your health."

He doesn't meet you eyes as he quietly says "Are we really going down this path again?"

You sigh and push your fingers into your hair.

"Maybe. Yes. I don't know!"

"Babe. I don't really know what you want me to say anymore. I told you not to worry about me."

"I'm not just worrying about you, Minho. I'm also thinking about me."

He twirls his chopsticks in the lo mien container. "Do you, y/n? Because you seem to have a tolerance the size of fucking Kilimanjaro. You never tell me to stop, even if, quite frankly, I'm exhausted and can't keep going. But I do. I do for you."

You feel your neck getting warm. "Well maybe it's your own fault for not telling me you need to stop."

"I do, though. I do, and you listen when I tell you I'm out. I'm more so a bit ticked off that you never tell me to stop. Do you remember what I said to you all that time ago? Did you even care? Because that was me, caring."

You close your eyes, remembering the color system that he devised for you, signals as to when to tell him to stop, if something he's doing hurts. "Yes, Minho. I remember. But I said that also goes for you! And you-"

"Use it when I really need to," he interjects.

"Well... well maybe I just don't really need to, then," you huff.

He cocks an eyebrow, and you tell yourself it's just an eyebrow, not a sexy move from your boyfriend. Definitely not something that turns you on.

The truth is, you've always been scared to use the light system. It's always green. Green means go. Even though you and Minho had had feelings for each other since you were in primary school- the last year, but still— that didn't stop him, who was three years older, from meeting other girls and going out with them, and you didn't try to stop him. You yourself went out on dates, kissed guys and did everything short of getting fucked for real. You wanted Minho to be the one to get your cherry. And he didn't disappoint.

Through it all, though, he had plenty of experience, experiences that you couldn't compete with unless it was oral. He told you green light means all good. Yellow is "I need a break" and red is stop. No questions asked. Whatever you're doing ends and you do something that doesn't involve sex. Red and yellow both mean "this hurts, I'm uncomfortable" of some degree.

Though you've definitely needed to, you've been worried about how Minho would react if you tell him to stop. It's one of the other reasons you argued with him on Sunday, but he doesn't know it. You made it seem like he just takes and takes, when really, it was that it hurt. You couldn't keep going, even though it hadn't even been 15 minutes when the pain kicked in. You were embarrassed. He was able to go on for God knows how long, and you weren't lasting anywhere near as close as him that day.

The look Minho gives you tells you that he's calling BS.

"Y/n."

You look at him. "Minho?"

"Look." He's always down his container of noodles and shrimp. "I know that's not the case. Why don't you try telling me what's actually up."

A spark of frustration heats your chest. "What's up, Minho, is that, thanks to you being late, we missed our appointment with Mia!"

Minho leans forward, massaging his temples. Finally, he drops his hands, his elbows balancing on his knees, and he looks over at you. "Is that what this is all about? I'm not ignoring the fact that you're dodging my question, but why didn't you say something to me?"

"Because... because it's just-"

"Not worth it? Babe, clearly it is. You wouldn't even tell me why this appointment was so fucking important to you. So important that I had to be there, which I found odd, because you usually tell me you want to see Mia alone. Which is fine, because I know that's the only girl time you two get together, so I found it strange that you wanted me there."

You clench your fists, hidden from view by the long sleeves of your boyfriend's hoodie, trying not to explode.

"And," he continues, "you still haven't told me the full story as to why you were actually upset on Sunday. You just called me greedy and said you weren't in the mood anymore. So please, please, will you tell me what's wrong? What's been going on?"

"I..." you look into his amber eyes, trying to fight the truth.

Minho puts a hand on your knee. "Y/n. Baby. Please."

The words come spilling out. "It's not that you're greedy. It's not that I don't enjoy the sex anymore. It's that... it's that I'm scared," you blurt. His expression is startled, incredulous as you go on.

"I'm scared to tell you no. To tell you to stop, that something hurts. It makes me feel like shit, when something hurts and I start to feel tired by the fifteen minute mark when you haven't even gotten started. It's not every time. But that's what was happening on Sunday. Sometimes it makes me ashamed, how much I just... it's like I'm a different person when we have sex. Sometimes I don't recognize me. Like, I turn into a mess. You turn me on like that" —you snap your fingers— "and somehow, you get me to cum four times in less than half an hour. I needed to feel justified in my feelings of 'I can't anymore' and I was scared to flat out tell you to stop, so I told you that you were being greedy and it was a turn off. And I'm sorry, Minho. I'm so so sorry for calling you greedy and disgusting. The truth is, I feel greedy and disgusting, wanting so badly, wanting so much, when I can't go on, or when you need a break. Sometimes I feel annoyed that you need to stop." You bury your face in your hands. "God, I'm such an asshole." You try to prevent the tears prickling behind your eyes.

"Y/n. Look at me. Please." You lower your hands to see Minho. "I'm sorry. Babe, why haven't you said something? If it hurts, if I'm hurting you, then you should tell me. If you can't anymore, tell me. Yellow light. Red light. Doesn't matter. Don't feel ashamed, okay? To tell you the truth, sometimes I can tell you're tired, but I'm never sure whether or not I should slow down and stop because you never tell me to, and I worry about accidentally offending you. I don't want you to think I'm assuming you're weak."

"Anyone that can ride Lee Minho for even fifteen minutes cannot be weak," you joke.

"Point taken. As for being a totally different person during sex? Well, yeah, you're gonna act differently when you're fucking. Think about it: do you go around constantly calling yourself a dirty ho and greedy bitch when you're at work?"

You don't say anything.

"I mean, unless you're getting it on with a coworker. Then we might have some problems."

That gets a laugh from you. "God, no. No, Minho. I understand what you're saying. It just... I feel ashamed and dirty after the fact. Like 'was that really me'?"

He smiles gently. "Yes, and I get that. But you have to know that there's no reason to feel that way. I don't think any less of you. And, in case you don't remember, you aren't the only one yelling and moaning and talking dirty, okay? You also aren't the only one that gets turned on instantly and cums a billion times. Then again, I, personally, can't really help it."

You smile again, that special smile that you save for him.

"Now. What about this appointment with Mia?"

The smile drops from your face as a slight panic sets in. "What about it?"

"Baby, please don't shut down now. Keep this going, okay? Why were you so upset to miss a meeting with Mia?"

You bite your lip, contemplating. "I... I'm maybe... something came up, and she... she's had a few times dealing with this with other people and knows what to do and I wanted you there so we were on the same page."

"Okay," he says slowly.

You feel your hands start to shake. "I guess it has to do with why I was so punchy these past few weeks..."

"Oh. I though it was PMS."

You shake your head. "No. Maybe a little bit, but mainly no. The truth is.." you hesitate, trying how best to go about this. "I have a rare immunodeficiency."

Minho looks at you with disbelief. "What?"

"I... I have a rare immunodeficiency," you repeat shakily.

"What is it? How did you find out?"

"Well... I actually found out from... from us having sex."

Minho's eyes widen. "Have I somehow gotten you sick? What happened? Does this have to do with why it hurts you so much?"

"No, I'll explain in a second, and possibly." You look down at your hands. "Let me ask you this: you'd say we're usually pretty... careful, right?"

He nods. "If I remember correctly, told me to download that app that tracks your cycle so we both have a record of your ovulation schedule and know what days to avoid completely. And you regularly remind me to make sure I have condoms both here and at my place and you have some sort of birth control, but you stopped taking it because it was causing some sort of issue, so no more of y/n's birth control. Correct?"

You nod. "But we're only human, and even technology can't predict something that fluctuates like a woman's period. Because it does change."

Again, he nods. "True... Wait." He looks up at you, lips parted. "Are you..?"

You shake your head. "No, babe. I'm not pregnant. Not anymore."

"Anymore?"

You nod. "Yes. I've technically been pregnant five times in the past two years."

Your boyfriend stares, mouth agape.

"After the fourth time, I went to the doctors. Do you remember how I had that constant bout of sickness?"

"I remember."

"Well.." you squeeze your fingers, preparing yourself. "I was getting so sick because my body was thinking that each fetus was actually a virus. At the same time, my body was naturally like 'okay we've got a life force in here to grow and protect'. Essentially, my body was waging a two-sided war on itself. One side to protect the baby, the other trying to get rid of it."

"But why?" You can't help but be thankful for how calm he's staying.

"You're taking this remarkably well. Better than I thought you would, anyways." You hug your arms to your chest. "Explanation: my body isn't accepting your DNA."

"So, essentially, I'm making you sick. But only when you end up pregnant?"

"Exactly."

He shakes his head. "God, y/n. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I... I wasn't sure how," you say meekly. "I mean, I'd be like 'hey, babe, guess what? I'm pregnant. Surprise!' Just to be like 'Ha. Sike!I'm not pregnant anymore' within a month."

He sighs. "True. Holy fuck. Five times?"

You nod and laugh a little. "Yeah. Guess we know what that means."

He nods conspiratorially. "Yep. Probably should've listened to everyone being like 'be smart. Be safe. Always use protection', huh?" He rubs the back of his neck. "Is there a way to fix it?"

"Fertilization treatments," you say glumly. "I hear they're absolute hell."

"But it'll be worth it, right? I mean, you don't get sick and... I mean, if you don't want kids, that's fine, I just thought... I'm not saying I'm assuming anything. I mean, obviously it's your choice, I just thought..."

For the first time, you realize just how… nervous this news is making him. Your boyfriend, the always cool, calm and collected Lee Minho is a flustered and stuttering mess. It also hits you that he actually, really, truly wants kids. He wants kids... with you. Which must mean...

No. You can't get sidetracked. Whether or not he proposes is up to him. You'll always be ready to say yes.

Back to the task at hand.

"Minho. Babe, calm down. Of course it'll be worth it."

He starts shaking his head, almost frantically. "No, no, no. Don't make a decision based on me. Do it because you want to. Don't-"

You put your hand on his knee. "Hey. Deep breaths. Yes, I want the treatments."

His body sags in relief.

"I want to get this fixed. I can't have a family if my body is killing off our kids. I dare say you'd prefer it if your children actually made it out alive."

His eyes widen at your statement. You run it through your head, trying to catch your mistake.

Then you realize: you just laid out a future of togetherness, marriage, and parenthood with Minho in those three sentences.

You try to backpedal, feeling like you've overstepped, even though you've talked about a future together many times. "I just meant, if you were me— I didn't mean—"

He cups your face in his hand. "I'd prefer it if my children made it out alive," he says softly, placing a hand on your abdomen.

You smile, relieved that you've finally told him. As Minho leans in to kiss you oh so softly, you close your eyes, envisioning your future.

#lee know #lee know smut #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids smut #lee minho #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #skz ff #skz smut #lee know fanfic #Spotify

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