#Tiny maid AU? maybe?
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What if they were maids?
What if they took care of you?
What if they said goodnight to you with a kiss on the forehead and a cookie?
What if they helped you with your homework?
What if they sang songs while making tea?
What if they let you know when the food is ready and served for you?
What if they listened to you when you need it?
What if they gave you nice words and advice? oh but-
PLOT TWIST
They are tiny :)
#yes#i like this#this is cute#Tiny maid AU? maybe?#fnaf sb au#sundrop and moondrop#dca fandom#ane doodles yay!
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crystal champagne glasses — bodyguard!abby au
synopsis: when reader, the millionaires daughter can’t help but misbehave — Abby the no nonsense bodyguard is hired to live in the mansion.
♪ every man gets his wish — lana del rey (unreleased) ♪
cw: fem reader, mentions of money / money problems, overprotective parents, mentions of loss of a parent (not reader), daddy issues lol, sprinkle of mommy issues too, alcohol and drinking, tiny mention of being sick, reader working out mentions, brat tamer abby lol, size kink, reader cries and gets humiliated and angry a lot lol, degradation, masturbation, strap on sex, think that’s it?
an: i had so much fun writing this! this is the quickest i’ve ever written a fic, i think because i’ve been excited to write this one and planning it for ages! now, if you don’t like my writing please click off now. no one is forcing you to read my fics. to all the people who have been excited for this fic, ily and i hope you enjoy it! as always, minors + ageless blogs do not interact with this or any posts / fics of mine. you will be blocked! ♡
You weren’t a princess. You were not a princess. You wished you were, shit — maybe your parents would actually care about you. Unfortunately though, there was no royalty behind your name. Just two millionaire parents who would apparently rather be anywhere else but at home with you.
You had your own hobbies, friends, a life — back at home. But of course, if you had so much as wanted to leave the mansion to partake in such activities, such as socialising (God forbid!) you’d need an escort, a driver, secret security officers stalking you, creeping out all of your friends and more. After a while it just became… not worth it. So you stopped showing up, stopped hanging out with people — and understandably, your invite to meeting up with friends started to get supposedly lost in the post. Things get lonely fast.
Bitterness was hardly the word for it. You understood your circumstances and if you were anything it wasn’t ungrateful. Your father only wanted you to be safe, hence the dozens of hired body guards in and out (But you’ll get back to that in a moment, of course.) Your friends just assumed you didn’t wanna hang out anymore, hence the missed invites. You had only started misbehaving out of bitterne— no, not bitter. Pissed off. Rightfully.
You always felt dread when you saw the answer machine light up red with a new message from the only person who had the number — your father. Where on Earth could he be calling from this time? Perhaps lounging by the pool in Greece or dining at a rooftop garden in Dubai — experiencing the world and bravely taking a moment out of his incredibly busy day to drop you a patronising and vaguely threatening voicemail. Atleast he spoke to you, unlike your mother who’d much rather pretend you didn’t exist because, and you quote, the stress of your misbehaviour ‘gave her wrinkles.’ Your manicured finger hovered over the button before pressing down, huffing out your nose as you stared out at the morning fog over the grassy hills of your land.
‘Good morning darling, dad calling again. You keep missing my calls, which I assume is on purpose so I’m leaving you a message anyways. I’m currently in Amsterdam with your mother and I just caught wind of Malakai the bodyguard quitting ‘suddenly and abruptly’ according to one of the maids. I’ve told you once and I will tell you again, if you don’t stop harassing the guards and forcing them to quit you will be in serious trouble. I mean cut off completely, sent off to work in the city with no more than a shitty little apartment and no money. So, I have decided to give you one last chance. I’ve purchased a bodyguard to live in with you starting Sunday morning so you’re going to have to fend for yourself until then. I searched high and low for this one, apparently they specialise in poorly behaved brats like yourself — so I’m hoping if anything that will whip you into shape. You’ve been through five bodyguards this year and it’s February. I’m serious about my threats. Step a foot out of line and you’re done, your mother and I are deadly serious. I will be calling the new hire at the end of next week to check in on your behaviour. Do not let us down darling, you will regret it. Okay, that’s all. See you when I see you.’
You smile.
Oh, how sometimes things just worked out. A life of your own, with normality and struggle and freedom — no watchful eye breathing down your neck and no lack of purpose weighing down on you. Your father had presented you with the easiest task, piss off the new hire so that you’d be set free. A task you’d grown to perfect, having done so time and time again.
The crackle of wheels on the gravel path leading up to the mansion awakens you on the Sunday morning. You want to grumble, having gotten literally no sleep. You see, you were terribly afraid of the dark — and you couldn’t sleep without your guard having light the fire in the fireplace of your bedroom (The one use you found for the hired help.) You had no idea how to light it and didn’t trust yourself not to burn the house down — so you went without. Hence the awful nights sleep. Where were you? Yes, curious. Rudely awakened and curious.
Your short nightie does nothing to combat the cool morning chill as you get up from the bed, letting your bed covers slide off your body as you traipse over to your window. A black Range Rover, they’re all the same. All the same angry men that drive the same angry car, with the same angry build and the same angry face. You scoff at the memory of your fathers threat on the voice message, stating that this guard was to be anything you weren’t used to before. You knew it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.
Except, you were caught off guard when the door opens. You watch a woman climb out the car, despite the vehicles spacious design she still seemed to unfold like she was inflatable as she climbed out — almost seeming too big for even a car like that. She was built, strong arms and chest, tree trunk thighs and veiny hands. You narrow your eyes at the black sunglasses perched on the bridge of her jagged nose, taking them off as she looks around with a serious expression. She was attractive, you’d admit — but in a way that made you cross. That stupid skin tight black t-shirt and black cargos and thick weighty belt around her waist told you everything you needed to know about her. The militant type, she was going to try and intimidate you with her seriousness. You smirk, seeing this as a challenge. She has no idea what she’s up against.
You rush down the spiral stairs at the sound of her lugging her bags inside. She flicks her braid over her shoulder to glance at you standing there analytically as she does so, biceps bulging as she lifts the heavy black cases into the centre of your foyer stood beneath the chandelier. She looked much too harsh for somewhere delicate like this.
“I take it you aren’t going to introduce yourself.” She speaks after a moment of sorting her bags, closing the front door to signify she was done bringing her things inside. You cling to the tall bannister, toeing the cold pristine marble floor, eyeing her and her things as if each bag had a bomb inside. She stands up to her full height, atleast breaching the 6ft margin and you squint, watching her stretch her arms to relieve herself from the weight of the bags. “Off to a great start already.” She retorts as you ignore her, her long legs stepping over a black duffle bag on the floor toward you.
“Why are your bags so heavy?” You ask quietly, less curious and more judgemental. Who did she think she was moving in here with all that stuff? She takes a long inhale, accenting the muscle in her chest as she places her hands on her hips. Her reply is calm and unbothered.
“I brought my weights with me, and lots of other things I need to stay in my condition. Do you have a name?” Her voice is velvety and more feminine than you expected. Your stomach gets hot and prickly at the sound.
“You know my name. I can bet anything my father told you everything about me infact.” You jut your chin up stubbornly. It’s her turn to analyse now, tilting her head a little to the side as she leans on her hip, eyeing you once over and then again.
“Yeah. Your dad was kind enough to tell me all about you and how you treated your past bodyguards. But when you first meet someone, you introduce yourself. So introduce yourself.” There is a slight bite to your tone and your eyes flutter a bit. You’re used to men being agitated with you, infact you thrive off it— but you’ve never had a woman guard before. Something about the harsh tone hurt you just that little more. Shit, maybe you just had mommy issues.
You mutter your name, eyes laser focused on her clinging to the last shred of dignity you had — but when she gives you a curt nod and an equally quiet ‘There you go’ it perishes in the wind like a dying leaf crumbling away for winter. She turns, looking around at her bags before reaching over for the smallest one. “I’m Abby. As you probably guessed, I’m your new bodyguard.” She walks over to you and holds out the bag. You look at her and then at the bag, and then back at her.
“What am I supposed to do with this, Abby?” You cross your arms with a raised brow.
“You’re gonna carry it to my new room for me. I’m a guest in your home.” She raises her eyebrows, waving the bag infront of you signally for you to take it.
You stare at her in disbelief, before laughing bitterly. “You’re right. You’re a guest in my home. So I’m not carrying shit.” You spin on your heel to stomp up the stairs, but she cuts you off by speaking calmly yet firmly.
“Then you can sleep in the dark.”
You turn back around slowly, wearing a frown that creases your brow. How did she know about that?
“I spoke to some previous guards of yours. Said you were terrified of the dark and needed a fire lit in your room every night. Y’wanna sleep in dark? Or you wanna help me carry my bags?”
You stare her down for a moment, weighing out your options. She’d already dominated the conversation by getting your name out of you so easily, and now she was winning again. However, you were exhausted just from one night of restlessly pacing with your light on — too afraid to turn it off and go to sleep. You needed your sleep. That being said, you scowl and snatch the bag from her hand, the leather of it slapping against your leg as you carry it up the spiral stairs.
“Atta girl.”
You clench your jaw.
The week begins, and as do your antics. Abby wasn’t easily wound up, but that only made you want to go ten times harder. She was a bodyguard, not a babysitter — but she was starting to feel like her duties were beginning to cross wires. She knew your game, knew you were aiming for something — she could see the determination in your eyes everytime you’d sass her back. So, she’d play you back. Not give into what you want.
Her first real duty came on a Wednesday when she was lounging in the living room watching some God awful 2000s police chase show, and in came you — tottering on little heels and a skirt so short and tight she could tell the colour of your thong beneath. Not that she was looking, of course.
She leant her arm on the back of the couch, eyes flitting over you as you rummage for the keys that you were sure had been left by the maid on the coffee table. “Going somewhere?” It comes out nearly as a scoff, smirk etched onto her face and it makes you roll your eyes.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Out with my friends. The ones that still talk to me.” You’re distracted, pulling your small handbag back up onto your shoulder when it slides off, free hand feeling around in a decorative bowl for the key set. Abby stares at you for a moment, which — okay, is a little indulgent. She wasn’t being a creep, she could just appreciate that you looked good. Before you could turn to throw a glare her way she was muttering an ‘alright’ and heaving her heavy, toned body up to stand and stretch.
You turn and look at her questioningly and she stops to return your gaze. “What? You think I’m just living here with you for fun? C’mon, if you wanna go let’s go.” She nods towards the door, but stops after a few steps when she hears you snicker.
“No thanks. I’m a big girl.”
She crosses her arms and the smirk that makes you wanna throw darts at her stupid face returns. “That right? You think daddy just hired me to hang out around the house, then?”
You stare at her, pursing your lips before exhaling through your nose wordlessly — walking towards the door in defeat. You just wanted to go out, it had been so long. You’re sure you could just ignore Abby.
She follows behind you, now swinging her car keys round her finger — so smug. “How were you planning on getting to the club? You live in the middle of nowhere.”
“Uber.”
It’s her turn to snicker, opening the front door for you and standing aside as you walk through. “Yeah. Okay. C’mon.”
Screw her. Because now, for some reason she was in your head.
Maybe you just had a few… weaknesses. You always liked your girls on the masc side, on the buff side — but that was a given. Who isn’t attracted to that, right? However, watching hot girls drive was something else, and Abby was being that something else. You know— hand on the back of your seat when she reverses, bicep bulging when she grips the wheel of her sleek car, the lights of the night time traffic illuminating the way her top lip curled upwards a little and bottom lip pouted. You felt a little relief, knowing it was one hundred percent the wine talking. The wine you’d probably drank a little too much of whilst you were getting ready, playing your music and singing along loudly just hoping it was annoying Abby (It wasn’t, she didn’t even hear.)
Ignoring her would start after the car journey you decided.
And you did, for the most part. Abby gave you your space, sitting a few seats away from your group whilst you had your fun — headache inducing squeals and brain numbing chatter over loud music and strong cocktails not quite interesting the blonde. She was driving, and working — so she couldn’t drink, just sat there all night bored out of her mind. She probably should have been monitoring how many drinks you’d had over the night, because soon you were stumbling off your seat to go and dance— and Abby’s hands were itching to pull your skirt down just a little, the hem climbing up to the swell where your thighs meet your ass. She sits back, just watching. She was here to protect you, not be your personal wardrobe malfunction manager — so that’s what she’d do. Sit back and protect.
God, did you always dance like this when you went out?
She felt her fist twitch on the table at the sight of your hips swirling, but she knew that was just a natural gay reaction. She should probably order you a glass of water, so you could sober up and tone down the sluttyness but she figured she’d let you have your fun for now— you may have been too far gone. Abby wished she was holding a beer or something whilst she stared across at the way you were grinding your ass into your friends crotch, the two of you giggling like idiots all hazy eyed from the liquor.
After a while you amble over to her, everything bouncing and spilling out but you clearly don’t give a fuck. Your guard is caught off guard when you come close, alcohol having decimated any concept of personal space as you lean over to speak to her where she’s sat, bent over with your hands splayed on her black jean clad thighs.
She tries to be subtle in the way she eyes you, her tongue peeping between her lips and eyes widening momentarily at the perfect shot of down your top. “I can’t hear you.” She yells over the music. You come closer and nearly topple onto her completely, Abby’s hands by nature resting on the back of your thighs as you now grip her shoulders. Briefly, she wonders if at a glance anyone thinks the two of you are a couple. She shakes it off ‘cos… you’re still a brat. Hot or not.
“I said, can I go to the bathroom or are you gonna follow me?” You pull back to make sure she’s seeing you attempt to pointedly raise an eyebrow at her, something you would have perfected usually if you were sober.
“Take a friend.” She nods to your most sober looking buddy and you shrug happily, pushing off her and grabbing your toilet partner and rushing off. She was kind of glad you were gonna be out of her sight for a moment, needing to cool off.
She wasn’t sure what happened after that. Abby was getting bored and tired, dropping the ball a little bit — and you must have been sneaking drinks from your friends when she wasn’t looking — because suddenly you were way too drunk, barely able to stand. Enough was enough when she watched you stumble over to the bar, heading to assumably get yourself another drink. Abby followed you, gently taking your arm and turning you around.
“Hey, no more. You’re blacked out.”
Your face screws up into this adorable little pout for a moment before the rage kicks in, brow creasing and fists clenching by your side.
“C’n dooo what I waant. Dompt tell meee what to do.” You thud her in the centre of her chest with your finger, slurring enough to the point where Abby was confident the bartender wouldn’t have served you anyway.
“No. Finish up, you need to go home.” She was stern, and as expected — this garnered the worst possible response, baring your teeth like a dog and digging your heels into the ground like you were about to pounce on her. You exploded into noise.
“Nnno! Fuck you you stupid securererty guard I can’t wait to get rid of youn’d be independent this is such buuullshi—” Your rampage was cut short by Abby sighing, squatting, and throwing you over her shoulder. Her free hand came up without thought, tugging your skirt down to not expose you to the world. You thrashed and yelled for a good ten seconds before giving in completely — by standers and your friends laughing as Abby marched you to the exit. You were asleep by the time she reached the car, and briefly woke up when she’d carried you to bed to demand her to light the fire place. The fear of the dark must have ran incredibly deep, interesting — she noted.
Abby thought that maybe you’d appreciate her cutting your drinks off and halting any further plans to embarrass yourself that night— but she came to learn that if she thought you were bad usually, you with a hangover was ten times worse. If waking up to the sounds of your loud upchuck wasn’t bad enough, you were a whiny, angry bitch relentlessly all day.
“I’m not your servant you know. Stop asking me to do things for you.” Abby walked in with a glass of water and Tylenol upon request, being met with a loud groan instead of a ‘thank you’.
“Do you have to fucking yell everything?” You complain, ironically — louder than her.
She was tired by the end of the day, beginning to wonder if the pay was enough to tolerate your brattiness. Abby had gained a reputation for dealing with difficult clients, perhaps diva-esque or ill-mannered, but often it wasn’t anything a stern talking to couldn’t fix, often intimidated by her height and build enough to shut them up after a few quips. You were effortlessly becoming one of, if not the most difficult and tiresome clients to crack, but she was determined. If Abby was anything, she wasn’t a quitter — which is why when your father called to check in on you, she told him you’d been good as gold, which earned her a glare from you when you’d overheard the whole thing on the way to the bathroom.
You were back to your regular level of shitty behaviour the next day, less whiny and more sarcastic and bitchy which she could tolerate. However, after a month had gone by Abby was finding the irritation harder and harder to control— especially since you had developed an ever so charming habit of putting on your headphones every single time Abby tried to tell you to do something or talk to you in general.
“Like I told you, I’m a bodyguard — not a babysitter. Stop leaving your—” She bounded into the room, stopping when she saw you look her in the eye and pull your headphones over your head, pressing play on your screen to start your music. Abby stares for a few seconds, taking a breath, telling herself to walk away. Be a bodyguard and nothing else. She ignores this, wound up— and moves to stand in front of you, clicking her fingers. Cheekily, you point to your headphones — mouthing a faux-apologetic ‘sorry!’. The blonde scoffs, wondering why she’s entertaining this in the first place and reaches up to yank the headphones off your head, but freezes at your sudden wide eyed yelp.
“Don’t touch me I’ll tell my dad and you’ll get fired!” It’s rambled out, fast and premeditated — like you’d thought of it already and had been waiting to put it to use. Abby glances down at your alight screen, noting the music as paused and wonders if you were ever playing music or was just doing this to bother her. She lowers her hand, because — well, she’s not an asshole — instead turning her palm upwards in gesture to hand them over.
“Headphones. Give them to me.”
“No.”
“Give them to me or I’m not lighting the fire in your room tonight.” She stares you down and you sulk, shoulders dropping and brows furrowing in devastation. Abby would have felt bad if you weren’t such a menace.
You stroppily yank the headphones off your head and hand them over, muttering profanities furiously under your breath as you turn away from her, sprawled on the couch. Your guard nods, disappearing to put them away before leaving you be — heading to the kitchen to make her afternoon smoothie. The sound of her chopping fruit sparked rage in you all over again at how at home she had made herself, and after a minute you were storming in again— bare feet slapping the cold tiles.
“Back for more?” Abby is calm now, content as she focuses on slicing into a banana.
“You can’t threaten me with my fears you know, that’s emotional and psychological abuse. You’re taking advantage of my fears to be in control like — like a coward. Trust me I studied psychology out of a book, I know my stuff.” You stand beside her ranting as she raises her eyebrows with a calm smile, nodding as she listens and finishes up chopping her fruit, beginning to load them into the— your blender.
“Oh? Smart girl then huh?” She teases and you huff, jutting your chin in the air confidently with an ‘mhm’ before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen island counter, deciding to stick around for a while to pester her.
“Very. You could probably learn a thing or two from me.”
Abby twists her body half around in amusement, a mocking expression of being impressed adorning her attractive face. She closes the lid to the blender, keeping one hand on it as she speaks.
“‘That so? Go ahead, tell me what possibly I could learn from you, smart girl.”
Ignoring how ‘smart girl’ made you feel in your underwear, you only a manage a “Well first of all—” before she’s turned the blender on, the loud whirring masking any sound coming from you despite your attempts to yell over it for a few seconds. She nods teasingly, as if she was listening to what you were saying and you huff, giving up. You were usually a master in being annoying, but Abby was giving you a run for your money.
You hop back off the counter, muttering a ‘Big blonde stupid asshole.’ as you storm out the room and Abby lets go of the blend button, snickering to herself and yelling out a non committal ‘I heard that!’ after you.
The following day she had taken you to buy groceries after you’d complained that you’d wanted to do it yourself — Abby, following you around as you loaded up your cart, every so often remembering your duty to annoy her and hitting her with something along the lines of ‘I want my headphones back.’ which would be met with a disinterested ‘Tough luck.’ on her end. You couldn’t believe that she’d been living in your home for one month and you still hadn’t gotten under her skin. Perhaps that’s why the next day you’d let your guard down.
It was the first sunny day of March, the grassy hills in which the mansion sat on still harbouring that frosty bite to the air from winter — but pink blossoms had began to spring on the bushes and trees and the sky was blue, which instantly lifted your mood just that little bit.
You were curled by the large window that morning, still in your pyjamas and holding a mug beneath your chin, gazing out at the bright grass. When Abby had entered the room, she was surprised to hear you gently comment that “The weathers nice today.” — a rare sentence that wasn’t defying or insulting her. Abby looked over to you, noting your peaceful demeanour and deciding to carefully toe the line.
“Do you wanna… go outside today?” She suggested, something the two of them could possibly do together. She almost grimaced, waiting for you to curse her out like usual but instead you paused quietly for a few seconds before responding.
“I can introduce you to the horses.” With that, you hopped off the window seat and disappeared to get dressed. When you returned, your hair was in tidier condition and you wore a dress made for summer with only a thick knit cardigan over the top. She itched to tell you it was still way too cold to dress like that, but figured she didn’t wanna aggravate you before you’ve even made it out the door. Today was the day Abby would get through to you.
You were quieter than usual, assumably worn out and in higher spirits due to the sunshine. You’d received the horses as a gift on your sixteenth birthday — but due to the cold weather and outright depression you hardly rode them anymore, instead making sure they lived a healthy and luxurious life on your land and fed the best foods by their handler (mainly out of guilt.) Abby could tell you’d regret your outfit choice as the two of you walked along the pathway through the lush greenery outside, pulling your cardigan tighter around your body, head tilted as you watched the birds fly over the pond.
“What are your horses names?” She conversed lightly, stuffing her large hands into the pockets of her black bomber jacket.
“Cinnamon and blondie.” You answer quietly, before speaking up a few moments later. “Don’t judge the lack of creativity I was sixteen when I picked the names out.”
The pair of you reach the barn and she huffs a quiet chuckle out her nose, watching you pick up a brush as you approached the brown and blonde horses. “Hey, I think those names are perfectly fitting.”
She wasn’t sure why she wanted you to like her so badly all of a sudden. She partially thought it was because if you did you’d make her life and her job easier — but… no, it was more personal than that. You’d deprived her of seeing your pretty smile so much that she felt almost awestruck at the sight of your peaceful and joyful expression as you gently combed Cinnamons mane. She caught herself smiling as she watched.
The two of you talked. Like actually talked without hurling insults or rolling eyes. You sat on the hay, watching as she fed Blondie a carrot. Abby’s teeth were always so white and perfect, perfecting an already perfect smile. Perhaps you were in a good mood, because the thought of calling her perfect didn’t quite irritate you as much as it usually would.
“Have you even ridden a horse?” You’re still bashful about making regular conversation as you pluck at the hay from the bale you sit on.
“Nah.” She shucks off her jacket, the air in the barn balmier and muggier than the outside. It’s hard to not let your eyes flicker down to her strong arms, so you don’t deny yourself.
“Not even as a little girl?” You question and she chuckles a little.
“I didn’t have horse money.” There’s a pitch of longing behind her tone and you tilt your head, wondering about her upbringing. She senses your inquisition and glances up at you as she continues to stroke the horse. “I didn’t have much money for pretty much my whole life. It was actually why I got into the bodyguard industry. Good pay.” She shrugs one shoulder like it was nothing.
“Did you get to go to public school? Like in the city?” You lean forward with your elbows on your knees, chin balanced on your palms in intrigue. The way you said it sparked some amusement in her, ‘get to go to public school’. Like to you it was some sort of luxury.
“Yep. Got the bus everyday too.” Her eyebrow twitches up with a smirk, turning to walk towards you with her jacket in her hand. Whilst she expects you to pick up on her playful tone and perhaps roll your eyes, you continue to stare up at her in awe— an air of innocent curiosity around you that made her suddenly fight the urge to run a thumb over your cheek. She stood over you, placing her jacket by your side and you preened a little at how big she looked above you like that. Part of you felt mad at yourself for having developed a crush, knowing it was interfering with your plans — but you were touch starved. Really touch starved, so you allowed yourself a little yearning for your strict but not so strict bodyguard.
You clear your throat before speaking quietly. “You’re so lucky.”
At this, she scoffs, dropping down to sit beside you. Your skin felt a little warmer when her thigh pressed up next to yours.
“I wouldn’t say that. Would have traded lives with you in a heartbeat.”
You turn to her with a frown. “My life was boring. I didn’t get to do sneaky, crazy teenager things. I went to a small private school and had my small group of friends there and… we couldn’t do anything without dumb bodyguards riding my coattail. The only time we got privacy was in the girls bathroom, and even then if we took too long they’d come knocking.” You complain, pushing your shoe into the gravel.
“Oh, I see. So you didn’t get to be a bratty teenager so you’re making up for lost years now.” She spoke it with a smile, but assumes she took it too far as along came your infamous eye roll, shuffling away from her on the seat as the irritation snuck back in.
“I am not a brat.”
“And I’m not your bodyguard.” She challenges gently with a smile, nudging her knee against yours. You look at her with a stubborn pout and her smile doesn’t falter. “You’re not really a brat. I can bet you’re a sweet girl that just wants attention so you’re acting out.” Didn’t your father say she was supposed to be tough? Please. You say nothing. Your heart races in your chest but you’re too stubborn to say a word. Maybe you’d let your guard down too much. Roll your eyes again, that’ll do it.
After a moment you look away, not because you were still mad but more so because you were flustered. Sweet girl rung around your head like church bells.
“I know you wanna get rid of me.” She begins and you tense up a little. Way to ruin a nice morning.
“And?”
“I know why. You think you wanna be independent and get away from your parents. You have this… idea of living on your own in the city. Am I right?”
You’re prideful, facing away from her with your chin up. “You’re not wrong.”
She sighs out a little chuckle, shaking her head as she leans forward with her elbows resting on her thighs, head turned towards your profile. “You don’t want that life. Trust me. I’ve lived it and it’s hard.”
“Whats hard is having no freedom, no social life, being followed constantly because no one trusts you to make sensible adult decisions.” You snap at her, turning to look her in the eye.
“So you talk to your dad, try and see eye to eye. Not just… pack up and move out like you’re running away to the circus.” She reasons, like it’s just that simple. Her eyes dart across your face as she sees the rage build, infuriated by the assumption that your father was at all the type to negotiate.
“Theres no just talking to my father, Abby. This is it. This is my life unless I get out of here. I can’t live this way forever.” You raise your voice a little, frustrated at her lack of understanding. “I don’t know what your parents are like, but I’m sure you wouldn’t get it.”
She smiles in that way that people smile when they’re mad or upset, tilting her head down to look at her hands for a moment as she inhaled, shaking her head with a speechless chuckle when she exhaled. “I never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was sixteen. I don’t have the luxury of arguing with my dad like you do. Sorry.” She sarks and your face drops, which sparks a little guilt in that secretly soft heart of hers — because truthfully there was no way you could have known, and she could tell by your face you were immediately mortified. You stumble for words after a moment.
“Look. I can’t forgive my father for practically imprisoning me. We… we have a complicated relationship and I think we always will. He says he cares and then does nothing but ruin my life. But… he’s still my dad. No one should ever have to go through losing their father, especially not at that age. I’m… I’m sorry Abby. I can’t imagine what that’s like.” You speak quietly and she listens, an unreadable expression on her face as she does so. When you finish, her eyebrows flicker up ever so slightly.
“Huh.” She breathes, quietly.
“What?” You furrow your brows, sympathetic expression lingering.
“So you are capable of basic empathy. I had no idea.” She let’s a smile slip and your face drops into one of deadpan.
“Bye.” You go to stand up but she laughs and grips your arm, her strong but somewhat affectionate hand not allowing you to leave her side. You sigh with an irritated pout, facing away from her again. When her chuckles die down, she speaks again, her hand staying wrapped around the flesh of your arm.
“So what’s your plan then. You inevitably get me fired, you move into the city by yourself and then what. Where are you gonna work? You won’t be able to afford living in an apartment by yourself so who are you gonna live with?” She fires at you, realising she’s still gripping your arm and letting her fingers trail down a little before leaving your skin all together. You hate how it leaves goosebumps in her wake.
“I’ll use my family name to get me a job somewhere. As for roommates I’m not too sure, I suppose I’ll have to start looking online.” You smirk, glancing at her out the corner of your eye. “Perhaps I’ll just find a girlfriend first who will let me move in with her.”
The mention of a girlfriend makes heat prickle behind Abby’s ears. She had a sixth sense for these kind of things, most of the time able to tell when someone preferred the company of the same sex — mainly down to her own preferences, and she could tell almost immediately with you. However, it was always pleasurable to get the confirmation that she was infact, once again correct.
“Oh yeah? You think anyone else is gonna put up with that princess attitude but me? You better start working on your game.” She jests, and the mention of her tolerating your princess ways caused you to bite down a little on your bottom lip.
“What, you’re saying you’re not charmed by me?” You joke back for once, turning to face her to bat your eyelashes. She chuckles softly, eyes lingering on you for a moment too long before looking away and pushing herself up to stand by pressing her hands into her knees with a quiet grunt.
“Can’t say the insults and tantrums did it for me. Good luck to you though.” She allows a smirk to flit back onto her pouty lips before she thrusts a hand out, allowing you to take it so she could help you up, once again proving to you both that she was actually more than happy to tolerate that princess attitude she speaks of so poorly.
By the next day, your head is back in the game. All this talk of moving out set you straight, and whilst bonding with Abby in the barn certainly set you multiple steps back — you were back to your old self in no time, dead set on getting her to budge so that you could be free’d from your fathers watchful eye.
You eye your search bar on Google, sprawled on your front on your bed with your laptop open infront of you, having just typed ‘Roommates for sale backspace Roommates in the city friendly and not weird’. As you scrolled through the unhelpful results, your door opened — Abby standing in your doorway.
“Jesus do you ever fucking knock?” You curse, glaring up at where she stands in the doorway wearing her usual tight black tshirt and thick belted cargos and boots.
“Good to see you’re back to your usual self.” She sarks with a dramatic eye roll as she leans on her hip, refocusing (which took an extra second because you’re just wearing a little skirt and top today and lying on your front is making her think things.) “I’ve gotta go get my car serviced so I’m dropping it off at the garage thirty minutes away. You think you can survive an hour without me here?”
You’re not looking at her, continuing to scroll as you wave her off with just a distracted mumble causing her to shake her head and tsk followed by a chuckle as she pushes off her feet, disappearing down the hallway. “I won’t be too long. Stay out of trouble, smart girl.” She calls to you, before you eventually heard the sound of the front door shutting and then her car rumbling around the fountain infront of the entrance and out of the large iron gates. Finally, some peace and quiet.
However, after around thirty-five minutes, you had to admit you’d grown bored. You were home alone, and the room-mate search was coming to just about nothing so you had given up all together for the time being. You flop onto your back on the bed, huffing. Where you’d usually get up with the boredom and go to bother Abby until she argues back — you couldn’t. So, you figured you’d turn to the next best thing, listening to music whilst you do a light work out.
You didn’t like working out when Abby was home, because — as if she were a moth to a flame, she couldn’t help herself from interjecting and gym-rat-splaining everything you’re doing wrong and how to improve. The last time she walked in on you doing pilates, you nearly chucked a weight at her head because she started dishing out unwarranted advice. You knew she did it just to bother you, wearing that shit eating grin on her face when she’d lift a bicep and flex it, stating that it was ‘living proof that you should listen to me.’
You thought also that maybe a workout would help burn off some of the… frustration you woke up with. Perhaps it was the tension ridden barn conversation the two of you shared yesterday, a reminder of your starvation for touch, maybe you just had a load of tempting dreams that you weren’t remembering — but you woke up with your cunt aching and hungry to be filled. You figured this was the real reason behind your bad mood returning with such a vigour, and you couldn’t get yourself off, not wanting to give Abby the satisfaction of walking in (without knocking, no doubt) on you with your legs splayed out and fingers deep inside your wanting hole, probably accidentally moaning her name— or whatever. You couldn’t say the thought of doing so didn’t make things worse though.
When you rolled off the bed and onto your feet, you took a moment to collect yourself at the frustration of remembering that Abby still had your God-damn headphones somewhere, having stashed it away due to you using it as a prop to taunt her. You cursed her out, and then cursed yourself out for getting your beloved headphones confiscated before sighing. If Abby wanted to invade your privacy by not knocking, and taking away your personal items — you could invade her privacy by going into her room and searching for them. Perhaps you could even return them before she was back.
It seemed like a sound plan, so you padded down the hallway until you were met with the door to the guest bedroom where she had been residing. You push the door open, for some reason your stomach twisting in excitement at the small thrill of being sneaky— something you rarely got to experience. The room was clean and tidy, and smelt like her. You push further into the room, looking around and spotting a few of the black shiny duffel bags she’d brought along with her — the rest of her things assumably packed away into the closets. You kneel, unzipping the first.
Your hand sticks inside, rustling about only to be met with metal plated weights and an exercise mat. You huff, zipping it back up and trying the next one. You spot them instantly inside, but tsk when you struggle to pull them out — the headband portion of the listening device tangled with something else. You pull them both out, pulling them apart as you do so and gasp when you realise what you’re holding. A strap on. A harness with a dildo attached.
You drop it, nearly falling onto your back like a spider had just leapt out at you— your eyes widening. Placing your headphones aside slowly, you lift it again — observing it. Why on Earth did she have that with her? Your heart jumped slightly in jealousy, wondering if she was planning on bringing someone over and using it on them. Was she fucking someone, just a few doors down from you? In a moment of sick depravity and curiosity, you slowly bring the shaft beneath your nose— inhaling to smell if there were any… remnants of usage, or at best cleaning products to signify it had been used and cleaned. Your face feels hot in shame as you do so, and it just smells like new plastic. It looked new too. You pull it back, looking at it. It hadn’t been used at all.
“God, Abby.” You whisper as you turn it side to side, harness tickling your leg as you grip the girth of it. It was black and shiny like everything else she owned, roughly 7 inches with veins and thick— just as you expected from the broad bodyguard. There were balls attached too, and you run your fingertips over them gently, lightly pressing down to feel it’s texture. As you do so, translucent white liquid gathers at the tip of the dildo, a small trail of it running down the side of the shaft obscenely. You gasp lightly again as your cunt clenches hard without warning. A breeding strap, now you had only ever seen those in porn videos from your phone screen late at night with a hand down your pyjama shorts.
You’d been fucked with a strap before, of course. You’d had been allowed romantic relationships in the past, and your parents of all things were surprisingly cool with the gay thing. Of course, your father had to background check them first and practically set up play dates with their family (Undoubtably another wealthy family) However, the times you’d experienced with them were all short lived, fumbly and overall incompatible. It was clear that you and your past two partners were there purely to experience some sort of relief from their sexual frustration — which resulted in just rolling around the bed whilst your parents dined together downstairs, them gliding their smaller strap in your tight pussy as you clumsily rut against eachother. The experiences were somewhat fun and naive, but you never got to cum or experience real pleasure and satisfaction.
Oh but Abby, you could tell she had to have experience. She had been out there in the world, seasoned and a few years older than you — and when you look like that, with that kind of body, there was no way she wasn’t having girls in and out her apartment door like some kind of cock carousel.
You felt your wet folds pulsing with need to be touched, and you bit your lip — wondering how much time you had as it seemed to have majorly escaped you. The idea of fucking yourself with your bodyguards strap without her knowing had you wetter than you cared to admit from just your own daydreams in your bed, and you’d decided fuck it, consider it pay back for putting a dent in your plans.
You were squatted on the ground still, but now your skirt and panties were draped messily on the sleek wooden flooring by your side — excitedly holding the strap by the dildo wearing just a tight little crop top and nothing else like you were Winnie the fucking Pooh. It was humiliating in the way that made you reach down, checking and confirming that your slick had gathered across your lower region— pent up and built up from the past few hours of general frustration.
You had no idea how that beast was meant to fit inside of you, but you’d grown desperate — eagerly pulling it downwards and hovering over it, smearing the pearly liquid from the tip around in your slick as the harness clattered against the floor. You let out a sigh, only to realise you were trembling from the adrenaline of doing something you shouldn’t. Biting back an excited grin, you push in slightly — the stretch making you wince, brows furrowing. You let out a harsh breath, whispering ‘Fuck’ to yourself as you do so, just the tip stretching you beyond what you’ve ever taken before. You balance on the flats of your feet, toes curling against the ground and eyes squeezing shut as you try and push in further, the thickness making you quietly cry out, unable to take it properly.
Tears sprung to your eyes, half at the stretch and half in frustration at the inability to fit it inside of you. “C’mon, please.” You whine quietly to no one, walls spasming around the plastic, which now was slick with your arousal dripping down it. You were beyond turned on, to the point where you were starting to feel a little pathetic. You tried to ease up, reaching down to rub your clit to help you along as you take a deep breath, mind trying to ease itself — visions of Abby touching you instead of your own hand, moaning quietly and frustratedly at the thought of her strapping you.
You try and push it deeper, and it seems like your walls are about to let up — but the door flies open and so do your eyes. Your world comes crumbling down in humiliation, your ears ringing and face burning hot; Abby stands before you, eyes wide and jaw slack with pink cheeks.
Your first thought is to pull the dildo out, and the size of it makes you let out a quiet pained whine as you do so. She’s frozen, and the rage takes over you. It’s the most comfortable emotion in a situation like this.
“I told you to knock!” You yell, grabbing your skirt and throwing the dildo to the ground.
“This— this is my room!” Her voice is high and defensive, still processing what she just saw as everything happened so quickly. You pull your skirt up and grab your panties off the floor and to make the embarrassment worse — you burst into tears before you’ve made it out the door, storming past her and slamming the door to your room. The final blow was realising you’d left the headphones behind.
Abby watches you until you’re out of sight before turning her head slowly back to the strap on laying abandoned on the floor, a single drip of what looks like your arousal beside it. Jesus, she thinks, letting out a long sigh and running her hand over her face as she enters the room fully — letting the door shut behind her. She slowly lowers herself into a squat, thick thighs bulging in her cargos as she inspects the scene. Abby lifts the harness, before grabbing the dildo by the suction end and sucking in a hitched breath at how you’d soaked it only a little way down. Your poor pussy, she thinks as her lower region warms guiltily at the imagery now the shock had worn off. “Was a good attempt.” She mutters to herself, tossing the dildo onto her bed and sighing, standing up and stroking beneath her chin in thought. She worries, wonders what you must have thought about her seeing that she’d brought a strap on into your home. You must’ve thought she was some kind of perv, right? How was she supposed to bring you back from this?
As you lay face down on your bed, crying embarrassed tears for an hour straight— you wonder if it would have been less embarrassing if Abby had followed you into your room rather than leaving you to storm off on your own. She probably didn’t want to see you, or speak to you for the matter of fact. You sit up, wiping your cheeks furiously — if that were the case, you had the right to be mad at her. It was her fault, she took your headphones which spiralled into this whole thing. Was it better to let things fizzle out and be awkward? You couldn’t think of anything worse, so you finally rose to your feet again, cleaning up your appearance with your jaw clenched before storming back down the hallway. You were going to finish this, and make her leave for good.
You didn’t bother to knock, because when did she bother? You pushed the door open so hard it bang loudly against the wall, and Abby turned around from her dresser — going through some envelopes, totally unphased.
“I’m taking my headphones!” You practically holler, an accusatory finger pointed right at her. She places the envelope aside as she leans against the dresser crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.
“Okay.”
“And my father will be receiving a call! Yes, I will call him and tell him that you’re rude, you push boundaries, and you don’t ever fucking knock on any door!” You raise your voice even louder, counting off your fingers as she stares at you.
“Again, this is my room and I didn’t know you were in here.” She explains slowly like you were stupid, which only enrages you more.
“This is my house!” You shriek, waving your hands and she pushes off the dresser, stepping towards you.
“Is it?” She frowns. “Do you even pay any rent?”
You falter for just a second, but it’s enough for her to see and nearly smile, which only builds your emotion. “This is my families house. On your very first day here you said that you were a guest in my house, so act like one. My. House.” You step closer to meet her in the centre of the room, eyes boring up into hers as she watched you, unimpressed, tongue in her cheek.
She couldn’t lie, you were hot when you were mad. Infuriating, sure. But hot. Hot in the way where she wanted to shut you up, make you cum until you weren’t fighting back — just babbling aimlessly, frown fully melted from your face. Fuck you until you learnt a lesson. The thought made her stand up a little straighter.
“Yeah?” She tilts her head daringly, and enraged you step up closer, bodies nearly touching just so you could yell in her face.
“My. Hou—” You go to repeat yourself for emphasis but you’re cut off by the feeling of her hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them. When she speaks, it’s calm and menacing. You stare up at her wide eyed.
“You’re not gonna talk to me like that. You’re embarrassed, sweet girl — and I feel for you, but don’t you ever yell in my face like that. You understand me?” She tilts her head further, eyes on you. You’re humiliated, knees knocking into eachother at her calling you sweet girl whilst berating you and you frown, still panting — all hot faced and furious. She uses your cheeks to make you nod and you groan. “Good. If you wanna talk about what happened, let’s talk. But before you come up here and start accusing me of shit, remember that you came in here searching, and you found that,” she turns your face so that you were looking at the strap on laying on the bed. She stays facing you, eyes browsing the side of your face now. Your eyes widen a little at the sight, the memory of using it replaying in your head. “And you decided to use it without asking me.” She steps back a little, eyeing you (not even bothering to hide the hunger anymore). “Okay. Say your piece.” She gestures with her hand and you collect yourself, pulling in a shaky breath.
You admit, the confidence from your tone had vanished. “I was just trying to look for my headphones. I wanted to work out.” You explain and she nods, encouraging you to go on. “You… you brought that into this house, why?” You point at the toy on the bed, the embarrassment starting to slip through again in your pathetic tone of voice.
“Its not your business what I bring with me in my own bag.” Her velvety voice was quick to answer and your brow creased, running out of reasons to shift the blame onto her.
“Well… you can’t bring things like that here it’s — it’s inappropriate.” You internally curse yourself out for stuttering.
“You didn’t seem to have any complaints an hour ago when you were trying to stuff it inside yourself.” She shrugs like she just couldn’t help it from leaving her mouth and in your embarrassment you turn to leave again, walking towards the door. She follows and reaches over your head and shuts it in front of you before you can, grabbing your arm and turning you around so that your back was pressed to it now as she looms over you. “What? Am I wrong?”
“Abby.” You go to complain, but it comes out as a weak whisper.
“Is that why you did it? Maybe you were trying to get caught so you’d have a reason to get all mad and go batshit crazy on me, huh? Still going ahead with that bullshit plan of yours to send me packing?” Abby theorises and you lower your gaze, head tilted towards the ground as you thought. It wasn’t that, you weren’t brave enough. You were genuinely just being disgusting and horny and got yourself caught — which to you was all the more shameful. She knocks your chin up with her knuckle, making you look up at her again. “Or maybe you wanted to get caught so you could be punished. Is that what you wanted? ‘That why you been such a fucking brat?”
“Not a brat.” You huff, though you couldn’t deny it any further than that.
“You know what a brat is? Girls like you,” She poked a finger into your chest. “Who wanna be put in their place so they act out. I’m starting to think that’s just what you need.”
You try and push off the door but she’s blocking you to do so, bodies too close. “Do you really think I’d come in here and yell at you just because I wanna get spanked or whatever?” You bite back, proud of the comeback until she roughly spins you around by the hips so your cheek was pressed to the wooden door, back a little arched. She takes a fist of your skirt and yanks it up, holding it to your lower back making you gasp — fully exposing your bare rear. She chuckles and you wanna die.
“I dunno, didn’t even bother putting on a new pair of panties before coming up in here. Seems to me like you knew what you were doing. Lost the bass in your voice too, smart girl. Where’d all that anger go?” Her hand is gentle when it cups your ass, feeling the meat of it in her hand. You could not believe this was happening. You were mortified. Soaked, but mortified.
You try to fight back with your words, but it’s coming out in little huffs and embarrassed pants at the feeling of her grabbing your ass. “I’m— m’gonna tell — gonna tell on—”
“You’re gonna tell on me?” She snickered. “Are you gonna tell the full story? What you were doing on the floor when I walked in?” She purs in your ear and you can hear her smiling. She’s sick.
You say nothing, because if you’re being honest you’re giving up on your resolve— the feeling of her hands on you just melting your anger away like ice. “No I didn’t think so.”
She gives your ass a light slap, just enough to jiggle it and make you whimper at the suddenness before turning you back around, eyes glancing between yours seriously. “You wanna know what I think?”
You sigh and nod, not trusting your voice at this point.
She gently takes you by the arm and walks you over to the foot of the bed, picking up the strap and holding it. “I think you need to clean my strap for me.”
The way she says it makes you feel hot and bothered, and you go to reach for it to shamefully disappear and wash it in the sink but she holds it out of your reach, raising her eyebrows playfully as she stares you down for a moment. “Not like that.”
She brings the strap down, stepping into the leg holes of the harness before pulling it up and adjusting it to fit her by the hoops at the hip. You watch, trembling — the sight of her standing there with a huge cock something you had only dreamt of, making you squeeze your thighs together. You hated yourself for how weak willed you’d become.
“You can clean it up that smart mouth of yours.” She smiles simply before placing both hands on your shoulders and pushing you down slowly to the ground. She sits too on the edge of the bed, spreading her thighs wide to accommodate to you between them. She wanted you to suck her off? Now that was just degrading. You pursed your lips, trying and failing to ignore the rush of slick seeping from you.
“Abby. Come on.” You whisper and she looks at you for a moment, making you shrink where you were kneeled before leaning forward, gently grasping your chin again, her face millimetres from yours.
“It’s the least you can do.” She threatens before leaning back on her hands, nodding towards her cock. She nearly folds and leans forward to kiss you when she sees the big, sweet, doe eyes you give her — so far removed from your usual glare. If she knew that all she had to do was dom the good girl out of you, her previous month would have been a lot easier.
You gingerly grip the shaft with your hand, bringing your face towards it. God, it smells like you still— to think that only an hour ago you were on the ground trying to shove it inside yourself. Your brows furrow as you kitten lick the top, before suckling on the top with a low moan in your throat gaining confidence. “Good girl.” She praises as you push down a little, sucking harder to the point where you can taste the breeding liquid. You’re not quite sure if it’s meant to be consumed but you don’t care, you don’t care about anything at this point.
You wanna push down further, but you’re struck with a thought and pull off her with a pop— glaring up at her with some of your leftover brattiness.
“What’s that face for?” She hums. You struggle to find your words.
“You… We’re…” You huff, sulkily and she watches the glimmer of longing pass over your face. “You’re making me suck you off and you haven’t even kissed me.” You finally get it out and she smirks, but not totally in a mean way — more so adoringly. Smushing your cheeks again with her hand, she pulls your face in, meeting you in the middle as her cock brushes against your chest as her lips meet yours. It’s a hard, wet, sloppy kiss with your cheeks smushed but it’ll do, and when she pulls off you with a loud smack she roughly rubs her thumb beneath your pouty bottom lip to remove the residual saliva. “Now get back to work.”
She holds back a giggle at the sight of your own pleased smile as you go back down, licking up the sides and cleaning off the plastic — groaning at the residual taste of you clinging to it. This was cruel, wicked even — and you were enjoying it.
“Thats it. Knew I’d be able to find better use for that mouth. Must be tired from running it so much.” Her voice is gentle despite the degradation and it fills your brain with a hazy, muddled fog — not sure how to feel anymore. You pull up for air after taking as much as you can, and as soon as your lips wrap around the dick again, Abby can’t help herself from pressing her hand down on the back of your head gently, muttering a “‘Can do better than that, pretty.” as you gag around her. This seemed to be the first straw in what broke the camels back.
It had dawned on you, half way through sucking her off that after this she was likely just to throw you out on your ass, back to your room to take care of yourself. Getting you on your knees infront of her was her way of winning once and for all, and this was only one last humiliation to shut you up completely. You hadn’t realised you were in your head until Abby was pulling her strap out your mouth, tilting your chin up to her as she leant forward once more. “Hey. Where’d you go just now?”
You try and break away, trying to catch her tip in your mouth again, jaw a little agape and tongue peeping out but she grips your chin more firmly, shaking you a little. “Hey. Look at me.”
“S’nothing Abby. Just lemme—”
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” You swallow thickly, shaking your head.
“Then what?”
You suck in a deep breath. “Are you gonna chuck me out after this? Are you… are you only doing this to embarrass me?” She stares at you in perplexity as she watched your mouth turn down, emotions catching up with you as you squeeze your eyes shut — two fat tears sliding down your tears.
“Hey, no.” She’s still a little confused, but she wipes your tears away with the back of her hand anyway. She sighs, pulling you up by the arm and sitting you on her thigh. “Okay. Maybe this kind of thing isn’t for you. That’s okay.”
You wipe your nose, a little calmer and clearer headed now. “I was enjoying it. I think I just… I feel like no one cares about me. It just caught up with me that’s all. We can get back to it.” You go to stand up off her but she holds you tighter, making you look at her.
“I care about you. I stupidly, really care about you.” She speaks sincerely, and you stare at her analytically before realising that she actually truly means it. Abby cares about you.
She pulls you in gently this time, lips locking against yours. It’s not mean, or sarky, or trying to tease you — it’s a real meaningful kiss and you just melt. All that anger, all that competitiveness just melts off you like ice cream on a hot and hazy day. You wrap your arms around her neck, letting her lick into your mouth and dominate your tongue with her own, pulling it in and sucking on it making you shift on her thigh and whimper. You think about grinding down on her thick, cargo covered thighs and how good that might feel after a month of staring at them — but before you can, she’s easing you to lay on your back on the bed.
“Can show you how much I care about you. Maybe we can start over, how’s that sound?” She whispers into the space below your ear, pressing a wet kiss there and you let out a shaky huff, nodding. “Gonna need your words though. That’s how this works, sweet girl.”
“Please show me.”
“Like that, good job.”
Her hands look large, but they feel even larger — especially when they’re beside eachother, running up beneath your top— fingertips brushing over your hard nipples as she tests the waters, smiling against your skin when your back arches up into her, a sensitive whine quietly passing your lips. She slowly drags up your top, pushing herself down your body to pepper kisses down the centre of your chest, letting out a quiet groan of her own when she grips your tit with her hand, massaging the plush flesh. “M—outh” You choke out in a pleasured haze and she chuckles, eyebrows jumping up in amusement as she adjusts her position.
“Should have known you’d know exactly what you want.” She teases before flattening her tongue over the bud of your nipple, pulling back to blow cold air on it to harden it making you wince sensitively. The smile barely leaves her when she dips down, wrapping her pouty pink lips around the bud and sucking, soothing her tongue over it and digging her teeth in ever so slightly, letting them scrape over your nipple when she pulls away. “Fuck, so pretty.” She grits her teeth, reaching up and grabbing it in her hand again letting it jiggle beneath her palm.
You buck your hips again, which directs her attention to your lower regions — forcing her to depart from your breast to continue her journey down your body. She sits up, both hands encasing your waist, rubbing thumbs into your lower ribs gently. “Anyone ever eat your pussy?”
Your breath hitches in your throat at the bold question and your eyes flutter open, not quite remembering when you closed them. “No.”
She grins, like that was just the answer she was after and climbs back down— kissing your stomach and then flipping your skirt up so she could kiss your pubic mound. You shiver, a little insecure but filled with desire more than anything as her hands slide up between your legs. “Open these up for me.” She whispers, and her hot breath wafts over your needing cunt when she reveals it, pulling back to look at it.
You feel your chest and face get hot as she stares— dark eyed and hungry straight at your most private area. “So fucking pretty.” She whispers, thumbs sliding either side of your fat lips and pulling them apart, her brows furrowing. “You always get this wet? Jesus.”
You don’t answer, because you don’t quite have the guts to tell her that you don’t remember the last time someone had aroused you this much, to the point where it’s taken over your body and brain entirely.
She leans in, and you expect her tongue to dart out first — but she spits, directly on your clit making you jolt with a whimper, then chasing it up with the flat of her tongue as her thick arms wrap around your thighs, jaw practically unhinging as she starts eating you like her life depends on it.
You moan, loudly and with less shame as time passes now, grinding your hips up into her face — which she matches by pinning them back down to the bed, only pulling away to briefly grab a cushion from the bed and slot it beneath your hips to elevate you slightly — so fast and expertly you barely realise she’s done it before she’s back to mouthing at your crotch.
“Feels so good!” You whine and she chuckles against you, the vibration of which sends shockwaves through to your stomach. “Need you to fuck me.” You mutter, more to yourself but she acknowledges it anyway, the hands that were massaging your hips sliding between your thighs.
“If you want to take my cock I’m gonna need to prep you. You saw yourself, s’never gonna fit with how tight you are right now.”
With this new information, you feel her finger tips sliding through your soaked folds gently as she suckles on your clit relentlessly. You whine, trying your best not to clamp down when she slides in her finger, and then another. You were in heaven, panting up to the ceiling as she fingerfucks you, l your hand sliding down to encase itself in her golden hair — glowing from the sunset streaming in through the window.
She moans as she tastes you, brows furrowed and eyes clamped shut like she could feel every movement of her tongue herself. “Gonna give you one more okay? Need to stretch you— still so fucking tight.” She speaks against you and all you can do is nod, in fact at that point you’d probably let her do anything she wanted to you. It was such a relief to drop the act, to just relax and let her take care of you.
A third finger prods at your entrance and you wince as she slowly slides it in, looking up at you to watch your expression — brows pinching and eye twitching at the feeling, walls wrapping tightly round her thick fingers. “There you go, pretty girl. Took that like a champ.” She kisses your hip bone before getting back to work, slowly and experimentally fucking her three fingers in and out, curling them up to grind against your upper gummy inner wall.
“Feel like I’m gonna cum, Abby it’s — it’s so much.” You shake, toes curled so hard they’d gone white and she hums kindly against you, pulling off your clit again with a loud spitty pop.
“I know baby, I know. Let it out.” She whispers, rushed and syrupy like she was too on the precipice of a moan. She moves her tongue in quick successions around your clit as you start to buck and ride against her fingers, a clammy sound matching this — your wetness creating music against her knuckles as you fuck against them. “Cum, smart girl, cum.”
You do, and you’re so full it’s like there’s nowhere for the cum to go — and therefore you feel like you might explode, suddenly letting out loud cries and whines as you shake and jerk on the bed, only to be held down by Abby’s strong arms. She moans too, because you’re dripping down her wrists and her chin — seeming to have a never ending quantity of cum as she laps it up. You taste exactly how she thought you would.
You can’t even tell she’s stopped because your legs are still violently shaking for a minute, coming down from your orgasm felt like it would never end— but you were grounded by the feeling of Abby’s lips on your cheek, sliding her hands under your back to hold you. “I know, it’s okay. Good job.” She cooes into your hair, silencing your nonsensical babbles. She doesn’t push you to move onto the next thing, just stroking your skin and pressing her lips to your skin until you were calm.
Abby feels tugging down below, and looks down between your bodies to see your hand wrapped around her shaft, tugging towards you as your legs fall open again limply. She winces like she can feel it, and she swears she can when you lazily run your thumb over the tip that had drizzled some of the pearlescent liquid out from all the movement. She watches you play with the spillage between your fingers, before bringing it to your puffy cunt, spreading it through your folds and whimpering at the sensitivity.
“Shit, babe.” She sighs out, the room feeling suddenly much warmer. “You wanna continue?”
“Mhm. Was prepping to take you, remember?” You brush the loose strand from her braid hanging over her cheek out of her face. The gesture is intimate, like two lovers who have been together for a while. You almost feel embarrassed again but she turns her cheek and kisses your palm.
She nestles the pads of her fingers into your folds again, sliding around in your arousal and you sigh out at the sensitivity, the urge to be filled returning from its brief satisfaction. “Well you’re definitely wet enough.” She smirks in disbelief, and you can’t believe that there was a time where you would have rolled your eyes at such comments — now only doe eyed and lip bitten as your legs fall open wider. Her fingers are replaced by her strap, sliding up and down — collecting your wetness along it, a whimper leaving you when the tip nudges against your swollen clit.
“Think you’re ready for me?” She asks and before she’s even finished the sentence you moan out a quick and desperate ‘yes!’ making her laugh, keeling into herself with her chin to her chest for a moment. She looks cute and you want to kiss her again. In due time, you think. “How long has it been since you last got fucked?” She continues sliding her strap up and down. Abby secretly thinks she’s stalling, because she wants this closeness to last.
You shake your head breathlessly, trying to clear the fog in order to answer her simple question. Why was she asking questions at a time like this?
“Like — nine months maybe a year?” You answer and she nods, understandingly.
“It’s no wonder you’re so tight. This is gonna be quite a squeeze, yeah?” She looks you deep in your eyes, like she did every time she wanted you to really listen.
“I know, s’okay.” You breathe, and at this she takes your hand in her larger one.
“S’gonna be big. You can squeeze my hand if you want. Deep breath in.” She instructs and you slowly inhale as she pushes in, your hand squeezing hers as you clench around her thick length.
The “Fuck” you let out in a breathy groan is obscene and borderline pornagraphic, which makes Abby fight the urge to bottom out completely and shove her cock inside you fully all at once, but she’s patient, her breath hitching as she reassures you.
“I know, I know.” is all she can say as she pushes in further.
“W—wait.” You tense up a little and she freezes with no hesitation, letting you adjust to the stretch as she drops kisses onto your jaw until you were ready. This happened a couple of times, and she’d oblige to your wishes each time you halt her until she was fully seated inside you.
You felt like the air had been punched out of you, Abby was so deep. “Hows that?” She whispers.
“So big.” You mewl.
“Taking it so well. See, we got it all in the end.” She praises, quiet and gleeful watching you blissed out beneath her.
“Y’not getting paid enough for this, he’s not paying you enough to deal with me.” You babble into her shoulder in regards to her deal with your father, legs trembling around her hips.
“You kidding me? He’s paying me to fuck his daughters pretty pussy, think I’ll be okay.” She scoffs into your neck, sucking wet kisses into the skin there, hips still not moving as you adjust.
“S’not why he’s paying you.” Your nose turns up and she chuckles before lifting her face to hover right above yours, lips occasionally brushing. She begins to move her hips and you both gasp at the feeling.
“How about… instead of arguing with me… you shut up and take my fucking strap.” She whispers temptingly and you go limp again, apart from your hips which twitch against her movements letting her grind her strap in and out of you slowly.
“Oh my god!” You cry, letting go of her hand to wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into you to connect your lips. She lets you whimper against her and suck on her bottom lip whilst she concentrates on finding that angle. She knows she’s struck gold when your legs jerk around her before your heels dig into her ass.
“Faster please Abby, please faster!” You sound deranged, at the point she wanted you all along — cockdrunk and desperate without a care in the world. She clenches around nothing at the thought of just keeping you this dumb all the time.
She speeds up on command, hips smacking against you now as she pulls away to watch the way your tits bounce beneath her. “Oh baby, you’re fucking taking it.” She pants, impressed at how quickly you’ve allowed her to really go in on you. She reaches between you to rub your clit and you squeal, tears springing to your eyes. “Yeah? Want me to rub it? S’it that good, pretty girl?”
“Yes! Please! I— I can’t Abby it’s too — Abby please I wanna— need to cum!” Your hands are curled into her t-shirt adorably which only makes her go harder, practically punching the sounds out of you like a squeaky toy each time she thrusts. You feel yourself teetering over the edge once more, abused pussy relentlessly sucking her in with obscene wet noises attached. Before you can release, your hand reaches down to cup the balls of the strap. “Want it inside, please Ab— please want it inside me—” You ramble and she catches on, and as you tense up, letting out a pained whine as you cum, she slides her hand on top of yours, pressing down to empty the cum lube inside you. The feeling of the warm liquid spurting against your cervix makes you shake, sobbing uncontrollably suddenly as you ride it out.
“There you go, good fucking girl. You like that don’t you? Fuck, letting me breed you like this the first time we fuck? You dirty fucking girl. Such a pretty fucking girl.” She’s babbling too, unravelled by the beauty that was you cumming the way you did. She knew she was good at fucking, but to make someone cry like that was driving her insane.
You’re floating when she pulls out, the two of you breathless and fucked out. Effortlessly, she pushes her hands under your arms and drags you further up the bed until you’re laying against the pillow and she drops down besides you, pulling you into her chest, t-shirt slightly damp with sweat. You listen to her heart thundering in her chest, and it lulls you into a sleepy and relaxed zone, pulling your thigh up over her hip with her help, her thumb stroking the crease where your ass and thigh connects.
“Did so good. The sounds you make are so pretty.” She whispers like she was trying to lull you to sleep. You shift, breath stammering in your throat and nearly choking you when your used pussy glides over her shaft— the veins and ridges catching against your clit making your hips jerk on her, unable to stop yourself from slowly and feverishly rubbing down on her as you breathe heavily in the quiet room.
“Want more, sweet girl?” She cooes, hand running down the back of your head to cup it lovingly.
“Too sore.” It comes out muffled into her t-shirt, aimlessly rocking your hips.
“That’s alright. Just keep… keep doing this.” She relaxes into the bed, kissing your forehead and letting you please yourself, grinding into the mixture of your juices and the fake cum soaking the both of your lower halves. It was messy and bordering on gross, but made your needy clit throb all the more. You were truly insatiable. Had it really been that long?
She sighed in pleasure at the feeling of you grinding against her, the position making her harness press deliciously into her own clit, pleasing you both. Perhaps she too could get off from this.
The sun had gone in, and the room had grown dark. But this time, you weren’t afraid — infact the growing inkiness of the sky was the last thing on your mind— safe, warm and dumb in Abby’s strong arms.
Maybe you’d let her stick around.
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the night we met - b.d.
bodhi durran x reader
words: 1.6k
🏷: no book spoilers. she/her reader who wears a dress and makeup. can be read as a standalone, but this is part of Bodhi and Darling’s story!! just our shy bbs meeting for the first time before the revolution. I’m really leaning into the nobility thing here -- I was going for Bridgerton type vibes (that’s where the dress picture is from!) I sketched out their entire story last week and it's safe to say I'm obsessed. I hope you like it 🥺
April 628 AU — Tyrrendor
“The Durrans will be in attendance tonight,” your mother begins, picking at a loose thread on your duvet. “I know you’re fond of the Riorson boy — they’re his aunt’s family.”
“And we need to charm them into making some deal with father?” you guess.
It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. You already know what you have to do, what your role is in the evening’s affairs. You have it down to an exact science by now — be on your absolute best behavior, compliment the wife, let the husband boast, make polite conversation, look after the young children, if they have them…
“The deal is already made.”
You meet her eyes in the mirror. Something looks… off about her. Maybe she’s coming down with a cold.
There’s a knock at the door. The housekeeper, Anna, pokes her head in. “My apologies, Lady, but you’re needed downstairs."
Your mother sighs, standing and looking you over before she leaves. She does not comment on your appearance, which means it must be satisfactory -- the image that she desires, the immaculate eldest daughter, quiet and proper.
“Perfect,” your ladies’ maid, Siobhan, pronounces, looking down at you with pride. She’s pressed your hair into smooth curls that will withstand the early summer humidity, letting it fall naturally over your shoulders. “You’ll be the belle of the ball.”
Your cheeks warm at the compliment. “Thank you.”
She fluffs the curls once more, sighing. “To think, we’ll be pinning you up like your mother soon. How the time has flown.”
You give her a nervous smile — you know your days of wearing your hair down, your days as a single woman are numbered.
“Let’s get you dressed, then,” she says, lightening the mood. “Your father bought this for you when he was last in Calldyr city, and told me to save it for the right occasion. I think tonight is that night.”
She pulls open the armoire, taking out a dress you’ve never seen before.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” you breathe. It is indeed — a soft plum silk with nearly-transparent floral lace overtop, complete with tiny beads at the center of the flowers.
“Go put it on,” she says with an easy smile.
You giggle with delight, taking it from her gently and darting behind the changing screen to put it on.
“How do you feel?” she asks, even though it’s obvious you’re in love with it.
“Like a princess,” you grin, unable to stop admiring the fabric in the mirror as she laces up the back for you.
“Then my work here is done.”
The words seem more final than they should. You hug her loosely, careful not to wrinkle your new dress or smudge your makeup. “Thank you,” you say in a whisper. “For everything.”
She rests a hand on your back, smiling. “Of course, dearest. Now go help your mama get everything ready.”
------------------------------------------------------
You’re normally able to take your parents' busy parties in stride, playing your role quietly and without protest, but tonight, you feel stifled by the amount of people in your house.
It’s easy enough to slip away from the festivities, out a side door into the gardens. You take a moment to breathe, letting the cool night air soothe your flushed skin.
Your head turns as you hear someone speaking; a boy your age, pacing back and forth across the path. “I know neither of us had any say in this matter, but I’d like to… no, ugh. I should like to get to know you… I…”
He sighs, straightening and starting over. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady. I hope that we can get to know each other in the coming months, and that we can become friends. I know neither of us had any say in this matter, but you have my word that I will care for you and protect you until the end of our days. I-”
He startles, his eyes widening in shock as he finally sees you standing there.
“I’m sorry. I did not mean to frighten you,” you apologize. “It was a lovely speech. Whatever young lady it is intended for will be quite pleased to hear it.”
“I’m not so sure,” he says, sighing. “Do you know her? Our hosts’ eldest daughter?”
You finally connect the pieces, notice the resemblance he bears to Xaden, the same dark curls and tawny skin… This is him. This is the Durrans’ son.
The deal is already made.
You think you might faint, several emotions hitting you at once, none that you can name. You shove them down before they can rise to the surface. “I do know her,” you manage after a moment. “I am her.”
The boy’s eyes widen further in surprise, but quickly soften at the stunned look on your face. “They didn’t tell you, did they?” he asks quietly.
You shake your head no. You knew the time would come, when your parents would agree to marry you off to the most eligible man, ne’er to be seen again, but you didn’t think it would be so soon.
You take a good look at him, the man whose parties you will host and whose bed you will warm until the end of your days, whom you must provide an heir.
He’s certainly handsome, with smooth brown skin and a head of thick black curls, full lips and a bright smile… and well dressed, too. His jacket looks perfectly tailored, the shirt and cravat underneath pressed and tied neatly. And he’s your age, and not ten years your senior, as some of your friends from school had been matched with. He looks kind, like he’ll treat you well — he’d said as much in the speech you’d heard him rehearse.
You know this is the best possible outcome, but you still feel a flicker of hurt.
He wasn’t given a choice either, but at least his parents had informed him before the party began, had given him a moment, however fleeting, to sit with the news before you met. Was your mother going to tell you before Anna had interrupted, or was she going to wait until he was standing in front of you, until you had no time to protest?
Did Siobhan know, too? Is that why she’d brought out this dress, said that tonight was the night? Had the one person you trusted most in the world, that you felt you could truly be yourself with, kept this from you as well?
You realize you’ve been silent too long, composing yourself quickly. “I agree with you,” you begin, clearing your throat delicately. “If your parents are anything like mine, there is no changing their minds. We’ll just have to make the best of the situation.”
You offer him a soft smile, though it’s clear that you’re still freaking out.
“You already heard most of the speech, I guess,” he says, giving you a bashful smile. “I’m Bodhi.”
He extends a hand to shake — less intimate than the traditional greeting of a kiss to the back of your hand, and more fitting of the occasion; this is a business deal, after all.
You take it.
His skin is soft, and warm despite the chill of the night air, his hand wrapping around yours easily.
You flush and pull away as you realize neither of you are wearing gloves -- you’d tugged yours off when you’d come out here, unable to stand the feeling of the itchy lace between your fingers any longer.
He realizes the same, shoving his hands into his pockets.
You clasp yours in front of you, squeezing your knuckles together to quell your nerves. You don’t know what else to say, how to begin this arrangement that will last you the rest of your lives. How had your parents managed this? And their parents before them?
You hear your name called across the garden, every muscle in your body tensing at your mother’s voice. You scramble to pull your gloves back on, taking a few steps back from Bodhi and smoothing out your skirt.
“Go,” you whisper. “There’s a door past the apple tree.”
He gives you a nod of thanks before he darts away.
“There you are,” she huffs. “Your father and I have been looking everywhere for you.”
You watch Bodhi slip back inside, letting out a small breath of relief. She’s undoubtedly going to give you an earful about abandoning your hostly duties, but at least you won’t have been caught outside with a man, unchaperoned -- though you suppose it wouldn’t really matter, since you’re to be married, anyway.
“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, folding your hands. “I just needed some fresh air.”
She softens, abandoning the lecture, and removes a glove, touching the back of her hand to your forehead. “Do you feel alright? You’re quite warm.”
“I’m fine,” you promise, though your heart has not yet stopped racing. “We should get back to our guests.”
She smiles at you for the first time today, pulling you into an exceptionally rare embrace. “I don’t say it often enough, but I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become.”
Ten minutes ago, the compliment and the loving touch would have made you beam with pride. Now it just gives you a sinking feeling.
Later that night, after you’re formally introduced, when you take his hand and let him lead you to the center of the room for a waltz, you feel like you’ve known each other much longer than one evening; you already have a shared secret.
This might work, you decide. You just might fall in love with him.
#not 100% satisfied with this one but I probably never will be. so.#bodhi durran#bodhi durran x reader#mine#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing#Bodhi and Darling#reader insert
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Hello my lovely, it’s me your babygirl. Remember me? 🥰🥰
I know you’re busy working on fics rn so take as much time as you want to answer!
I’ve got a very important question regarding Felix that I’d love your opinion on it & share my thoughts with you!
*quickly runs to give you the biggest hug & spin you in my arms* 😘
So…. What do we think a Felix x reader wedding would look like at Saltburn? A grand extravaganza with a million guests or an intimate ceremony with just the Cattons?
Obviously they take every opportunity to throw a party at Saltburn so a wedding is the ultimate bash in the eyes of the Cattons.
Or would Felix just decide to change it entirely and just want it to be a tiny intimate thing since he wants this to feel quiet and special. And then maybe some big party another day to the delight of Elspeth and sir James.
For Felix he’s so laid back and in love all he cares about is his girl and what will make her happy. They are so young and in love i wouldn’t be surprised if he proposed on a lazy Sunday morning or a day reading naked in the field, just because he was so blissfully happy he knew there was nobody he’d rather spend these kind of days with for the rest of his life.
Side notes: Venetia would be maid of honor right? I see Elspeth as the mother in law that makes herself heavenly involved with planning and gives her brutally honest opinion picking out the dress 😅 I can even picture stoic Duncan trying to hold back tears while he’s holding a tissue box to Elspeth or sir James while they read their vows.
…
Sorry for the endless ranging but I’m aching to know your thoughts and see if you’ve thought about this too!!
of course i remember you, baby girl! welcome back!
i needed a break from writing, so thank you for sending this, my darling! it's always good to refresh the pallet, and this ask really got me thinking!
let's get into it!
kinda-sorta wedding AU HC's
pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Saltburn
word count: 1.4k+
warnings: suspiciously none
so your question all depends on the Reader, but i'll try to answer best i can.
the Saltburn wedding is definitely a huge, extravagant ordeal. the Cattons are well connected, so, it wouldn't just be Felix and Reader's peers attending, but ALL family from both sides, as well as family friends, too. Reader's family is invited to Saltburn a week before matrimony; where they try to help, but the Cattons have hired 3 different wedding planners to make this the most talked-about event in any social circles.
every room in Saltburn is cleaned and decorated. an abundance of flowers are shipped in to be hung from the ceilings and bannisters. there's BOTH a live band and a DJ, an erected outdoor dance floor.
now, i can see two different things:
1. Felix and Reader marry in the local church and then the reception is hosted at Saltburn.
2. they marry on Saltburn's property and still have the big ass reception on the grounds.
either way, it's most def a summer wedding to utilize optimal weather. it's a reason to wear the best clothes, drink expensive liquor excessively, and indulge in gluttony.
it's a night designed to make attendants jealous.
there's well over 300 people, Sir James and Elspeth combing through their address books to send invites even to family friends they haven't spoken to in years. they're the kind of parents that take advantage of their child getting married; it's the best excuse to show off and have a grand celebration, to prove the family doesn't do anything half-assed. if they can throw extravagant parties just for the hell of it, they definitely feel pressure to out-do themselves.
it's like this wedding isn't *for* Felix and Reader, but more so for the Cattons to show up and show out. it's not about a union of two people, but an excuse to gloat and smash their privilege in everyone's face.
Felix eats it up 'cause it's all he knows, the spoilt rich boy, but Reader's a little uncomfortable with the sheer size and details of her wedding. but in the same breath, she's relaxed because she KNOWS this is just how the Cattons operate and she doesn't really have to lift a single finger.
so, Reader lets Elspeth plan her ideal wedding - 'cause there's no way she's not involved. they make some decisions together, it's a bonding experience for Reader and her soon-to-be MIL, but for the most part, it's the matriarch doing most of the heavy lifting.
Felix and Reader only get to decide on wedding colors, catering options, and the cake.
and even then, they have to endure his family's opinions.
Reader doesn't even get to 100% choose her dress, hair, and make up. Elspeth basically decides everything. i agree with you and think Mrs. Catton would impose herself even on the wedding dress selection, becoming persnickety, opinionated, and a little snarky when Reader shows off her dresses.
this causes tension with Reader's family, who think the older woman far too self-important, and maybe it's Reader's mother or sister that stands up to her and insists Elspeth keep quiet since this *isn't* her wedding and they don't want any influences on Reader. they want Reader to choose her perfect wedding dress without scrutiny since she has no say in anything else.
in fact, maybe - juuuuuust maybe - Reader's family takes her to shop for a wedding dress without Elspeth in an effort to dial down the stress. it's not meant maliciously, but Elspeth simply cannot help herself and takes over everything; so, Reader's family figures if she's not there, Reader can make a decision *for herself*.
when Elspeth finds out, she's hurt, but it's Sir James that calms his wife down by reminding her that she had something not-so-nice to say about damn near every single dress Reader tries on.
so, she accepts this one detail being out of her control.
the entire wedding screams "old money" because half of the decorations and details are wildly redundant, but there's no such thing as cost to the family. Elspeth is def living vicariously because she thinks she knows best, so she spares no expense - perhaps even going as far as to rent exotic peacocks to roam the grounds simply because the Cattons can!
they're definitely going "Crazy Rich Asians" in the sense that Felix's marriage is going to be the event of the decade, like Collin and Araminta's wedding. again, it's not even about the union but just a chance for the Cattons to remind everyone that they were lesser-than. Felix thinks it's normal, he thinks this is how it's supposed to be 'cause he's def removed from reality, and truth be told, he loves the attention.
the bragging rights.
Felix might be a bit more reserved than his family, but he's still a Catton and glamour is *all* he knows, especially for an event like this. he doesn't stand up to his parents because they're paying for everything, which makes him feels as if he's not entitled to an opinion. so, he lets Sir James and Elspeth plan the wedding they want since all Felix has to do is show up. he'll do his best to alleviate stress, acting as a buffer between his betrothed and parents, but he doesn't dare open his mouth.
this is marketed as a once in a lifetime celebration, so nobody is willing to butt heads with Sir and Mrs. Catton.
on that note, yeah, i can see Felix having an intimate proposal. maybe in the field at sunset, maybe at a cafe in town, but not in bed. he's got a flare for the dramatic, so odds are, he's actually down on one knee. he's young, so he doesn't need to make a huge ordeal for the proposal since it's an incredibly intimate moment. he might even proposal on a whim / impulsively. he's had a ring for months, planning the best moment to ask Reader, but he gets anxious and one day, it just happens.
it feels right.
Felix has that burning feeling that he needs to ask now else he'll fuck up his plan in the future by being so nervous. so, yeah, he just asks one day - barely even thinks about it! he just knows Reader is who he wants, so why plan the "perfect moment" when an opportunity organically presents itself?
now, Venetia can be a bridesmaid, but she's not MOH. again, depends on the reader, but i imagine Reader's sister or her own best friend should be MOH. Reader wants Ven involved in everything, but no, she's not gonna be the one standing next to Reader when she gets married.
Ven helps decide bridesmaid dresses, works with Reader's sister and / or best friend to plan the bachelorette party, and is present for any conflict between Reader and Elspeth. she's sorta like a tie breaker because Felix is on Reader's side and Sir James is on Elspeth's. Ven is the one who helps keep Elspeth under control, the only one bold enough to stand up to her mother without fear of repercussions. she sees how Reader is struggling to both have the wedding of her dreams and respect for her MIL, so, Ven imposes herself to give Reader a break.
to be the voice Reader lost.
and just because it's fun, YES, Duncan is def in attendance, handing the Cattons and Reader's family tissues during the emotional moments of the wedding. he eats two slices of cake. and for the fuck of it, you bet your ass Duncan lets loose a little and Cabbage Patches on the dance floor.
i think it's nice to imagine Felix being all cute and intimate, but personally, i think he's so far deep in his family's way of living to truly be humble. sure, Reader anchors him to reality, but he still lives this extravagant life so he doesn't know the definition of "humble". but that's why i said, it depends on your reader - but in my opinion, Felix is a little too spoilt to have the forethought to marry privately. or maybe he knows it's a fight not worth having with his parents, that no matter what, they're going to do what they want.
so maybe Felix is the one encouraging Reader to just "go with the flow" because resisting is futile. perhaps Reader comes around to the idea of a grand wedding because she knows she'd never have this sort of experience with anyone else; so, why not bask in it?
ah, i love these. they're so much fun!
thank you for sending in, baby girl! all my love 🖤
#felix catton#felix catton headcanon#felix catton headcanons#felix catton x reader#felix catton x fem! reader#felix catton x y/n#felix catton x you#felix catton imagine#felix catton fluff#fix it felix
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AU where Laufey gives birth to Loki very unexpectedly (he'd just manged to carry and birth one heir, and they both barely survived the process) and Loki's so small that he's struggling to live in Jotunheim's harsh climate. They keep him close to some old, rarely used furnaces/fireplaces to keep him warm, but he's still constantly shivering and crying and Laufey can't even hold him long enough to feed him.
So, just a few days after giving birth to Loki, Laufey shows up in Asgard alone and looking exhausted and rough, wanting to talk with Odin. Jotunheim and Asgard have been long time enemies, with war being a constant threat hanging over their collective heads, so Laufey showing up and basically begging Odin to take his baby and raise it is a bit of shock.
But maybe he's feeling a little soft because Frigga just gave birth to Thor (the same day Loki was born- what a coincidence!) and agrees to raise Loki to adulthood after quickly negotiating a very lopsided deal. (Because Odin's still gotta be a bit of jerk and take advantage of his enemy when he's desperate.) Laufey rushes back to Jotunheim and Odin informs Frigga she's gonna have an extra baby to take care of.
Needless to say, a lot of people - especially on Laufey's side- don't love this whole plan very much. They would very much rather have Loki just die on Jotunheim than have a prince raised in Asgard and let Odin get what he wants. Laufey knows this but just cannot give a single shit. He's lost so many babies and he cannot bear the thought of watching another one die right before his eyes. He's all on his own again when Odin + Frigga and a handful of some other Asgardians show up for the Loki hand off and get the deal started. Laufey is pretty fucking miserable about the whole situation but feels a little hope when he hands Loki to Frigga and she clearly falls in love with his tiny screaming infant right then and there. Still hurts when she has to instantly turn around and whisk him off to Asgard.
And Frigga was definitely pissed when Odin told her The Plan. She literally just gave birth, she's frazzled even with the help of like, 1000 maids and nurses. But Loki's so tiny and fragile and She Just Knows she has to keep this lil guy safe and loved. And after having him looked over and getting him warm and fed she plops him into the crib right next to Thor and Just Knows that these boys where meant to be together.
>>Fast forward>> and now The Time Has Come: Loki's almost an adult and he has to go back to Jotunheim.
Except there's one little tiny thing Odin's neglected to mention to anyone (not even Frigga) - once Loki goes to Jotunheim, he can't come back. No visits, no letters, no nothing. It was agreed that it would be essentially like the whole raising Loki on Asgard thing never happened at all. (Why? Because The Drama.)
Now Thor and Loki are incredibly close, they're brothers! They always assumed even after Loki had to go that they'd at least get to talk through letters and have the occasional visit. It would still suck, but they'd have something. So the news that their upcoming birthday would be the last day they'd share together. Ever. It's like a bomb being dropped on the dinner table.
(Frigga's not to pleased that Odin would have the Fucking Audacity to plop a baby in her lap to love and raise as her own then expect her to be fine when he ripped him out of her arms- like, yeah, she's had The Visions and knows her boys are gonna be together one way or another but it still doesn't make what Odin has done any better in her eyes. Especially having to console her shocked, heartbroken boys in the aftermath. Oh she is Pissed.)
(this is getting so long, damn!)
Loki had always felt very out of place in Asgard. People were generally polite and kind, but he never felt truly welcomed by anyone aside from Thor, Frigga, and the handful of the maids/guards/pages etc. that he was around the most. Odin certainly made him feel like a temporary intrusion upon his life. So he'd often dreamed about getting to go live on Jotunheim and be with his people- except when he gets there he feels just as out of place and maybe even a little more unwelcome then he had back on Asgard. A lot of Jotuns (especially the more powerful set) where still very unhappy with the deal Laufey made to save him and they would've really preferred that Loki had just died instead.
And the fact that he literally just doesn't fit in that well, size-wise. Despite having a wing of his own sized to fit him, everything else is huge, and despite being hearty enough to survive the climate now, it's still far too cold for him to really do much or anything. The only place he really has outside of the palace is a Little Asgard-esque town set up a bit away from the city, where Asgard set up one of their mining operations as part of Odin and Laufey's deal over Loki, and now where the more country/redneck-ish Asgardians and Jotuns come to live and work for weeks/months at a time. The people are vastly more friendly to him there, at least.
But, apart from that and Laufey desperately trying to catch up and get to know his long lost son, Loki spends most of his time being sad and alone in his bedroom, wishing he could see and talk to Thor again.
Meanwhile, Asgard has become one massive puddle.
The first week after Loki left Thor was just in shock. He kept walking to Loki's empty room and the library and all the little corners and quiet spots Loki used to hide out in. It didn't seem real that Loki was just gone, and that he was somehow supposed to just forget their entire childhood together. He couldn't fathom it.
And then, out of nowhere, The Anger comes. He creates a massive storm that he couldn't control even if he wanted to and it lasts for weeks. He barely sleeps or eats, never leaves his room. Odin manages to be smart enough for once to not bother him, but Frigga eventually risks venturing into his hurricane destroyed bedroom to prod him into committing a little treason for True Love and helpfully informs him about the bridge that they use to send the Asgardian miners to and from Jotunheim, and how crazy would it be if Thor dressed extra casual one day and happened to get a bit lost traversing the countryside and accidentally found his way on to that bridge and got sent over to Jotunheim? That would be so fucking weird, right???
(And what if Thor happened to get there right at the start of Jotunheim's summer when the sky becomes a big swirl of pink and purple and orange for that one month or so and it's conveniently the same time that Jotun's become fertile and they celebrate with a massive festival where they harvest one of their land's 2 or 3 flowers that they make into a tea and works as an aphrodisiac and that the Asgardians have figured out how to turn into a moonshine-esque liquor that is even more potent than the tea and Loki and Thor have no idea about any of this they just know that they've been apart for too long and that they need each other in every way imaginable and they need these clothes off RIGHT NOW.)
#this got so long goddamn#I just had a lot of ideas#thorki#thoki want#sorry if it's a bit jumbled#I just will never not love a good old fashioned jotun loki star crossed romance vibe
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the stars lied | royalty au with zhanghao and ricky
(written in the stars chapter 2)
✩ chapter 1 here, but can be read as standalone ✩
genre: romance, angst
pairing: reader x zhang hao, reader x ricky
about/tags: while you visit your sister, the queen, you're met with a familiar distraction – prince ricky. but king hao doesn't seem happy about it (3k words)
y/n is a princess, hao is a king, ricky is a prince, pining, childhood friends to lovers, love triangle (or maybe it's a square), infidelity, yujin is hao's son
Your sister is with-child for the second time the next time you see her. You’re sitting with her at the butterfly garden, and her first-born is playing near the pond. The young crown prince Yujin looks much like Hao, you think.
You look at your sister, the queen, and can’t help but think that she was always meant to be that. Since she’s left Astoria, she’s become much tanner, she smells of flowers all the time, and her hair is much longer. She fashions them nowadays with tiny crystals, which glisten in the sunlight when she moves. You tell her it looks like the stars, and she says it’s the only way she can feel connected to home.
Mariposa, unlike your country, is much warmer. While you haven’t had the chance to explore much, the palace gardens here put yours to shame as it blooms with about a hundred different kinds of flowers. The people that staff the palace are gentle, soft-spoken and remind you of the slight drizzle before a rainbow. You suddenly understand where Zhang Hao gets his disposition from. The king you mean, you suddenly understand where the king gets his disposition from.
You haven’t seen him since that night. You didn’t even show up to the wedding – it would have complicated things. Instead, you sent your sister a letter and a gift, a small golden telescope. You wonder if your sister has ever suspected anything, if that’s the reason she invited you to stay at Mariposa for the entire Spring.
“Let me tour you around the palace, sister. Come.” her entire court of ladies move when she does, and you follow suit. She ends the tour at what she thinks would be your favorite place, the royal library.
The whole place is bright, and the ceiling is incredibly high. The library is two stories, and there is a large staircase that leads to the second floor. The books on the first floor look like they sparkle, with the sun hitting its hardbound spines. You walk in between the tall bookshelves, fingers ghosting over the expanse of the collection. Slowly, the faint sound of a violin enters your ears.
“He likes to play in here sometimes, up on the second floor”. Your sister, who is beside you, gestures up at the staircase. You don’t want to look. “As expected, the king plays beautifully”, your sister whispers to you.
“I fear that I’ll disturb his grace's time with you. I’ll retire to my room, sister.” She gently nods at you before making her way up the steps, with prince Yujin following suit.
You walk to your quarters alone.
—--⋆⋆☆⋆⋆—-
Your maid, Chaehyun, is busy brushing your hair when she tells you that the gown prepared for you to wear at the spring solstice ball has arrived. The dress is a breathtaking midnight blue, clad in diamonds, and much like your sister’s hair – reminds you of the Astoria night sky.
A string quartet greets you enthusiastically, their music resonating throughout the ballroom as you enter. The walls are decorated in gold, with paintings of the Mariposa butterflies. The place is filled with Mariposa nobility, but you are also met with royals from other neighboring countries. A few gentlemen ask for your hand in a dance, and you agree. Though your body is moving, your mind is elsewhere. You feel that you are merely floating to the rhythm.
Zhang Hao sees you first, breathtaking, he thinks. He is standing next to your sister on the platform where their thrones reside. He watches you politely accept dances from strangers, smiling and curtsying at each one. When you move, he thinks it’s like watching the constellations dance in the night sky. Entranced, he keeps his gaze on you.
The queen must have noticed, “my king, would you ask my sister for a dance? she looks like she needs saving.” Hao looks at her, a little bit in disbelief. But she nods firmly, letting him know that he can go.
You’re at your 4th dance partner already, and the current one talks your ear off about Mariposa and Astoria politics. You’re about to respond with some generic agreement to his opinion, when you hear his voice.
“Excuse me, prime minister. May I steal the Princess of Astoria for a dance?” his gloved hand is outstretched towards you. You don’t want to take it. Not when he’s looking at you like that, not when you’re unable to speak, and not when your sister is watching you from afar. “Of course, your grace”, the prime minister says as he places your hand on the king’s, and the decision is made for you.
The music restarts, and a slower song begins to play. He takes your hand and places it on his right shoulder. While one hand holds yours tightly, the other rests on your waist. The butterflies are back, and it dances around your stomach. He’s trying to look at you, but your head is turned.
“Princess y/n, are you ignoring the King?” his lips are in a smile, and his head is tilted. You appreciate the joking manner in which he speaks, and it gives you the courage to look him in the eye. When your eyes meet, his gaze softens. And since you don’t respond, he follows up with “I must say I was a little offended when you fled the library earlier today without so much of a greeting.”
“I apologize, your grace. I did not want to disturb your time with my sister, nor your time with the violin.” He spins you around. “I don’t mind an audience, princess.” Again, you don’t know what to say. So with eyes still locked on one another, you dance in silence, and as the song ends he tells you to make yourself at home here. You curtsy, and you leave the dance floor, running to the balcony.
—--⋆⋆☆⋆⋆—-
The moment your face hits the fresh air, you gasp. You’re breathing heavily, and you make your way towards the banister for support. Your dress feels too tight, too heavy, and you’re clawing at the bodice for release. Behind you, the ballroom is still ablaze with people, chatter, and music. In front of you, a lake full of swans. And beside you, a man dressed in black.
“Y/N, are you quite alright?” he asks. You turn your attention to him, and you’re met with a healthy distraction from an impending panic attack. He’s much taller than you remember, with broader shoulders and longer hair. Under the night sky, the moonlight reflects on his platinum hair. “Prince Quanrui” you breathe out.
“Princess Y/N”, he bows at you. “I was looking for you, you know. I was waiting for the chance to ask for a dance, and then that damn king cut the line.” You laugh, Quanrui has always been honest.
As children, you saw each other yearly for diplomatic meetings of the nations Astoria and Solaria. Your kingdoms were on opposite ends of the map, and while yours is dominated by the moon, his is dominated by the sun. You’ve been to Solaria a few times, the land of people with golden hair. But most of these royal gatherings were hosted in Astoria.
When you were children, you thought he didn’t talk much. He always sat gracefully, composed, and stoic. Your older brother, Hanbin, was often compared to him growing up as a fellow crown prince. It was only when all the prying eyes of adults left the room where Quanrui, or Ricky, as he liked to refer to himself, would reveal what kind of person he truly is. When it’s just the children in the room – you quickly learn that he says whatever is on his mind, is quite stubborn, and is always at the scene of conflict even if he doesn’t want to be. You remember a time where all the children were chasing each other under the dining hall tables and when the ceramics fell, Ricky took the blame.
As you were the same age, you spent a lot of time together running around the castle, riding horses, and painting by the garden. You’d also force him to join a tea party or two, especially when your sister was off with extra lessons. He didn’t like doing it, but it gave him a chance to spend time with you. Ricky was the only person in the world who preferred your company over your sister’s.
But by the time you were teenagers, Ricky started spending more time with Hanbin, sparring at the courtyard for some “healthy competition”. The two princes got along well, and both your parents fostered and encouraged that friendship to ensure the long-lasting alliance of your kingdoms. Every time he visits, he would make sure to ask you to go on a stroll with him at least once.
The visits started becoming less and far between, after all, relations between Astoria and Solaria are solid than ever – there’s really not much to discuss during the diplomatic meetings anymore.
On your 17th birthday, he sent over a portrait he painted of you, purely from memory. He apologized for being unable to visit that year as he didn’t have the time to take the long journey to you. In the letter he sent along with the portrait, he said he was busy preparing for the sun ceremony and invited you to come – but you didn’t go. Because Zhang Hao was in Astoria, preparing to marry your sister.
In the present time, Quanrui stands beside you, “you should have waited, I would have gladly danced with you instead, Ricky.” He looks satisfied with your answer, and pleasantly surprised that formalities have been dropped. He doesn’t have the heart to tell you that he no longer goes by his childhood name Ricky. But the name sounds so sweet being uttered from your lips. So he lets it be.
“Will you still be here tomorrow?” he asks.
“Yes, until the end of the season.”
“Good, I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
—--⋆⋆☆⋆⋆—-
It’s the next day, and you’re in your riding clothes. Ricky is at the grand stables, bringing out two horses, one golden like the sun and one white as snow. “Ricky, when you said you’d like me to meet someone, I didn’t think you’d mean a stallion.”
He laughs, handing you the reins of the white horse. He gently strokes its hair when he says “this is Celeste, I bring her everywhere with me.” You look at him, making your eyes small and shooting him an accusatory look, “Celeste like, the constellation we made up as kids?”
Ricky laughs “a funny coincidence, is it not?”. His ears are slightly red, and you are right not to believe him. Eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, you shake your head.
You’re laughing when you ask “okay, and who is this handsome creature?” You're petting the golden stallion by its neck, waiting for Ricky to respond. Instead, he walks closer to you and asks “may I?”, you nod and he easily lifts you up by the waist to mount the horse.
“You tell me y/n, he’s all yours.”
He shoots you a wink and quickly mounts Celeste. He’s gotten a few feet ahead of you when he turns around to taunt you, “well princess y/n, are you coming?” You quickly start to move, catching up to them, with the newly gifted horse that you decide to name Citrine.
On his own horse from afar, Zhang Hao watches you ride alongside Quanrui.
—--⋆⋆☆⋆⋆—-
Spring goes by fast, and Quanrui has overextended his stay.
Solaria and Mariposa have a tense history, and their mutual ally Astoria is what prevents further political turmoil. So when Quanrui asks the king if he could buy a horse from him, he allows it. And when Quanrui asks if he, too, can stay until the end of Spring, Zhang Hao makes a retort comment about Solaria needing their crown prince back. The prince responds with “some things are worth more than a country” and upon hearing a response like that, he has no choice but to let him stay.
King Zhang Hao isn’t blind. He sees that Quanrui is in love with Y/N. Since the spring solstice ball, you have never gotten a moment to yourself. Prince Quanrui is always glued to your side – especially as you stroll through the butterfly gardens, visit the palace museums, and ride the horses. Mealtimes have been hard for Hao, so much so that he has decided to dine alone in his room for the time being. He loses his appetite when he sees you and Prince Quanrui casually stealing glances at each other.
After dinner, he often retires to the royal library in an attempt to distract himself, getting lost in the violin. The queen is starting to worry, when she points out he’s been playing sadder songs recently. He never knows what to tell her, so he doesn’t say anything.
Today, as he is about to enter the second floor study, he hears voices. Inside, you’re teaching the young crown prince, Yujin, how to use a telescope. The windows are open, and you’re guiding Hao’s son so that he can see through the device. It’s the golden telescope you got your sister as a wedding gift. You don’t know that Hao has been the one using it as of late.
“My my, isn’t it too late for the young prince to be awake?” The toddler beams in excitement and gestures to be brought to his father. You bring Yujin over to Hao, who gladly takes him from your arms and coos. “And what did princess y/n show you hmm?” He makes conversation with his child as if he has the ability to respond. King Hao then brings Yujin over to his nanny, who is waiting patiently by the door. “Bring the young prince to bed.” he commands.
You are also about to excuse yourself when Hao stops you. “Stay” he says.
You stop in your tracks, and turn around to face him. “Your grace, it’s getting late -” He is desperate to speak to you, evidently grasping at straws when he says “as King, I’m ordering you to stay.”
Hao sighs loudly, and throws his head up, looking straight into the ceiling. “Sorry Y/N I just, I want the chance to speak with you.” He’s looking at you now, pleading with his eyes. The same eyes he used as he pleaded with you that night in Astoria.
This time, you want to hear him out. This time, you don’t run away. “Okay, I’ll stay.”
You sit yourself on the couch, opposite the window where you were standing. Hao follows suit and sits next to you. There’s a long silence before you hear the crickets in the distance. “Did you love me?” he asks.
Love? You think. Well, he made your heart beat faster than anyone else could. He made you feel seen, he made you question your position in royalty, and he made you wonder what it would be like to be – normal. He almost made you betray your sister. So whatever powerful force that was, if we can even call it love, that is how you felt towards him.
But all you can croak out is “you are married now Hao – ” Suddenly, you feel 17 again. You feel vulnerable, removing the walls you greatly put up. “– and to my sister, nonetheless.”
You’re scared that you’ll cry, so you look straight ahead at the window so the tears don’t fall. You know that you still haven’t actually answered his question. And he thinks you won’t be able to answer him at all, which is why he confesses ahead, “Y/N I am married, but I do not love her.”
This time, you look at him. Like you, he looks scared. His lips are quivering and he’s afraid he’ll break at any moment. With bravery, you place your hand on his cheek. You feel the tear that falls down and he closes his eyes, basking in your touch. “I’m sorry.” he whispers.
“For what?” you ask.
“For not doing anything. For letting you go. For not seeing you the next morning. For -” he’s bawling at this point. And you could barely make out those last few words as he lets his tears take over. So you hug him, and his tears pool by your neck. Forget royal conduct, right now you are just a girl, holding your first love tightly.
His arms wrap around your back, and he clings on to you tightly. How cruel, he thinks. The first time he is allowed to feel the warmth of your skin is also the last time he’ll be able to. Both your eyes are shut as you enjoy the company of being in each others’ arms. For you, healing. For him, mourning.
When his breathing steadies, he explains himself. “It’s because I thought you might be right, Y/n, about what’s written in the stars for us. But now that I’m here holding you, I’m hoping the stars lied.”
Your brows are furrowed, and he’s holding both your hands when he says “I so badly want the stars to be wrong.” He says it so quietly, you almost don’t catch it. Your foreheads are leaning against each other, when you whisper back “I’m sorry, too.”
The soft cries have stopped, and it’s silent once again. The weight of your words slumps his shoulders, and he knows what the apology means. It means, I’m sorry, but it’s too late. I’m sorry that this isn’t in the cards for us. I’m sorry, but I do not love you anymore.
“to answer your question, I think I did love you, Hao.” And for a split second, he is happy.
“But I think you wouldn’t be able to love me freely either way, your duty is to your country. You are a selfless King, and even though only I will know your great sacrifice, it is admirable to the highest degree.”
And Hao knows you are right. His one great love is Mariposa. Unlike other royal families, there is no other person that can rule, the line of succession ends with him as the only son of the late king. And now that he is King, the line shall continue with Yujin. It turns out, you’re right about the stars. Hao is destined to be a great leader, not your lover.
So he nods, forced to accept his fate. With one last plea, “one kiss before I let you go?”
You nod, and let him mold his lips to yours. His hands hold your jaw tightly, bringing you close to him. You feel a passion, longing, and a sadness to this kiss, and you relish in it. It’s a kiss that feels like it’s the end.
Outside, the queen peeks through the keyhole of the door. Then decides to leave you be.
—--⋆⋆☆⋆⋆—-
A/N: this was so long, whew! what do you think will happen next? part three will be out next week, but let me know your reactions!
✩ chapter 1, chapter 3 ✩ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
✎ mobile masterlist ✉︎ request/send a review (let's talk about it)
taglist: @en-ct @honghongbri (and tagging other people that left comments on chapter 1 @annoyingbitch83 @missuszabini @aleinasstuff @wtfhyuck @zhanghrt @flwrinn @xiaoting999 @xmxcris @seokmthw)
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#zb1 scenarios#zb1 imagines#zb1 reactions#zb1 fluff#zb1 drabbles#zero base one#zerobaseone#zb1 hanbin#boys planet drabbles#boys planet fanfic#boys planet scenarios#boys planet imagines#boys planet#zb1 x reader#zb1 zhang hao#zhang hao#boys planet reactions#zb1 fics#zerobaseone fics#zerobaseone fanfic#zb1 angst#haesunflower_writteninthestars#ricky shen#shen quanrui#han yujin#zb1 ricky#zb1 yujin
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pink camellias || Chapter 1: hyacinth
Chapter Summary:
purple hyacinth: sorrow
Wordcount: 3.2k
Read on AO3 || Masterlist
Pairing:
Bakugou Katsuki / Reader
Tags/CW:
royalty au, inspired by Mulan, war and its consequences, violence, childhood friends to strangers to companions to lovers (i am sorry), Angst, Acts of Service, Character Death (Major, and Minor), swordfights, misogyny, f!reader, kidnapping, implied torture, let me know if I missed anything lol
Note:
I got too impatient, so, I'm posting the first chapter today lol, still, i hope you enjoy reading it!
You opened the windows as soon as you woke up. As the soft sunlight warmed your skin, you watched the breeze rustle the flowers of the garden. Beyond that garden was a beautifully constructed posh house, barely blocking your view to the adjacent village. The rows of different houses gave the scenery a special kind of feel. The view was breathtaking, the bustling of all these people making you feel alive under your skin.
You stood by the window, trying to discern the lives of the common people below you in the valley. There was a small stripe of forest bordering the village and the mansion, which stood atop a hill.
“I wonder how life is down there”, you mumbled before looking back to your bed.
The softest of fabric was spread over the king-sized bed and you slowly stepped closer, your hand enjoying the feel of silk between your fingers. Then with a tiny jump you threw yourself onto the mattress, sinking deeply in its comfort and warmth.
With a sigh, you tried to imagine living in such a village. Maybe you would operate a bakery, making tasty bread and confects. You would wake up early, which you usually would never even think about, but this was only imaginary. If you were lucky, you could watch the sunrise for some time, while waiting for the dough to rise. Your hands would be kneading and caressing the dough into different, but nonetheless tasty goodies for the day, the lit oven warming your back with a gentle sigh. It would hug the soft dough and prepare it for the day.
After the bread and sweets would be ready, you would open up the shop, awaiting the first jingle of the door. You would, as usual, greet the oncoming customers, the ones you saw regularly with some deep questions, and the newer ones with some welcoming small talk. Your heart would beat in happiness every time something of yours would find its home somewhere else. And if everything got sold, you would close the shop and head to the market to replenish some of your necessities. If not, you would go around and give the bread to someone who would need it at the moment, not wanting to let anyone go hungry.
You imagined such a routine to be relaxing and enjoyable, especially connecting with so many people. The wish to go out and change something for yourself lit a spark, even if the possibility of leaving this place without guard would never happen.
Some day you would wake up with the hope of appearing in another place, like the characters in your stories. Landing inside a novel with the knowledge of every scenario, being actively a part of some grand scheme or an adventure. But no matter how long you kept your eyes closed, you stayed in your little bland life.
Sometimes you would dare to write down some ideas, with your scrawly font. And while doing so you blamed yourself for not listening to your teacher when learning how to write. But you wrote. You wrote every little idea that emerged in your little head. Huffing and puffing when the intricate dreams vanished after waking up.
With a low grumble, you stared at your ceiling. You grew weary of only imagining things and felt the urge, the desire to actually live your own adventure.
“My Lady, I’ve brought water to wash up”, the voice of your maid Hana sounded before she entered the room.
You furrowed your brows, wondering how long you had been lying there, and if you would succeed in sneaking out, if your maid wouldn’t be so punctual. But you only greeted her and rolled from the bed to walk towards a stool.
While you were washing your face, Hana brushed your hair gently and got rid of all the knots taking residence on top of your head. You looked into the mirror, feeling the soft towel on your skin.
This was your face, even if you wished you were another person. No matter what you think, the baby fat on your face would not dwindle until much later. For a moment you wondered how soon your birthday was.
“You should go to the dining room to eat some breakfast, my Lady.”, Hana told you, after helping you into a simple baby blue wrapper. Something simple for your indoor endeavors, as you did not plan on leaving this mansion any time soon.
With a nod you made your way to the dining room, greeting your father, who was leaning over some papers spread over the table.
“Good morning sweetie, did you sleep well?”, he asked while stretching his arms for a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Yes, thank you for asking, Father.”, you smiled with a slight crook, before turning to greet your mother the same way.
After the greetings, you took a seat and started eating your breakfast.
Despite the current silence at the table you were quite attached to your parents, as they were to you. They both were loving and warm and so doting on their only daughter. And who were you to resist getting spoiled like that? You would do anything for your parents, and even if you longed to go outside and experience new things, you were aware how your disappearance would break their hearts, and yours.
“Ah, we’re supposed to return to the palace today, did you prepare your luggage, or did you forget again?”, your mother started speaking with an amused smile after finishing the meal.
“Mother! Of course, I prepared everything! But, I’m still going to ensure that everything has its place.”, you hurriedly responded and jumped from your seat. Soft chuckle followed you out of the room.
How could you forget the return to the palace? Your father was the marquess and your mother attended to the queen herself. And despite your current young age, you wanted to make a good impression on the people living there, even if they may have already formed one around your person. But nothing speaks against working to better those impressions.
With the help of your maid, you threw everything you may need in that visit into a tiny case, fitting for your tiny stuff. And when Hana suggested you take your stuffed cat with you, you vehemently refused. Because what if someone saw it and thought of you as inferior? Especially little kids your age, they were usually the most vicious and you refused to be the victim of their bullying.
After making sure everything was in order, you let your maid help you into some outdoor gown with the same blue color as the other one. With a fitting pair of gloves and a bonnet, you were ready to leave your home for your stay at the palace.
Clutching Hana’s hand you made your way outside to the awaiting carriage. The coachman already heaving their luggage into its respective space. But you didn’t need his help to get into the carriage, not even Hana’s help. You grabbed some of the fabric of your dress and took the large step with one stride. The next step let you tumble into the insides of the carriage, where you immediately acted like everything went as planned.
Hana took the seat in front of you and the car slowly left the property. You knew that your parents were in the carriage in front of yours, so you did not fret and simply enjoyed the passing sights of the marquisate.
After a couple of minutes, someone slightly shook you and you blearily opened your eyes. You didn’t remember closing them in the first place. Did you already arrive at your destination? That was weird, you thought the way would take some hours. But beggars shouldn’t be choosers and you didn’t mind that very convenient time skip of sleep. Even if you now felt tired and grumpy.
With half-closed lids you let Hana lead you to the inside of the palace, where you already occupy a room. This wasn’t the first time your character visited the palace, but every time felt like it was. And no matter how much you wanted to look around, you felt drained and wanted nothing more than to continue your nap in peace.
The moment you stepped into the room, you threw yourself onto the bed, without care of your bonnet falling off your head. But for some reason you could not fall asleep again, making you whine into the soft pillows, before sitting up.
And before you could even plan anything for the afternoon, someone started knocking on your door.
“Hello! We were wondering if you wanted to play knights with us?”, a boy your age with bright green eyes, Izuchan, asked you with a smile, the moment you opened the door. Another was lingering with crossed arms and a slight scowl.
You turned to look at Hana, who just nodded with a sigh before you also nodded to the boys in front of you. “Yes! I’d love to participate in a game!”
With that, you followed them outside, where the sun shone upon your heads and warmed you slightly.
They immediately started clashing their wooden swords and began screaming something about ‘villains’ and ‘crime’. You wondered when it would be your turn, but you didn’t hold a wooden sword in your hands.
For some reason you felt the need to fix it, so you started wandering to the training camp of the real knights, looking for some kind of sword you might be able to use.
The only thing you discovered were of course actual knights in training. Their movements and the swing of the sword in their hands were mesmerizing and you could not help yourself but stare. Their flow seemed like a hidden dance, its steps only obtained by the truly worthy.
You felt trapped in watching the blades clash, eliciting bursts of tiny stars. A desire to wield this magic grew in you and a grin formed itself across your face. Now you fully understood the reason everyone admired knights. And you desired to be one.
You barely managed to rip your gaze from their dangerous dance only to see the object you were seeking only minutes ago. Without a second thought, you grabbed the wooden sword to return to the fighting boys. Only to see them running towards the training grounds, their gaze focused on something behind you.
And what were you supposed to do but follow them? So you ran with them towards a group of people converging around a massive person.
“Allmight!”, Izuchan gasped and started talking about the best knight in this whole kingdom and you couldn’t do anything but listen with rapt attention and interest.
Kacchan tried to get to the overrun knight, but before he had the possibility of reaching him, Allmight found the right timing to detach himself from the crowd and thus was missed when the boy finally broke through.
The blond started raging, concealing his disappointment in a fit of anger and screams. The other boy tried to calm him down, yelling ‘Kacchan’ to get his attention.
Undeterred by his outburst you gripped the wooden sword tighter in your hand and declared something to him, maybe you hoped to calm him down or to distract him from his missing hero.
“I am going to be a knight! One better than you!”, you declared war on these two young boys, who were supposed to be your friends, but your ambitions seemed to destroy any semblance of kinship.
“Hah? A girl can’t be a knight, are you stupid?”, Kacchan immediately replied, his anger only simmering, but directed at you nonetheless.
“You’re stupid!”
While you could have replied with a better comeback, annoyance made your brain empty, only the desire to show him filling you to the brim.
Without waiting for the next words of this brash boy, you turned and ran towards the toy dummy, which has been abandoned offside the actual training grounds. You didn’t care if your dress stained, the seams filling with mud, as you hit the dummy repeatedly, acting as if you were already a seasoned knight.
The two boys joined you soon after. And while the blond and you could not do anything but push each other into anger, you still played with your wooden swords, even if any of you would have dared to say that it has been a fight for life and death.
And if your maid clicked her tongue and reprimanded you for ruining your dress, you only responded with your dreams and hopes of becoming a knight. Out of necessity, your maid had, soon after that conversation full of sighs and aspirations, sewn you some proper clothing resembling the ones of a knight.
With your pants and shirt, you continued to fight your friends at every possibility, even if it meant getting stained in blue blood underneath your skin and ripped hair between your fingernails.
***
The seasons have passed and you still lived at the palace with your mother. You spent your daily life studying everything this place had to offer and everything your duty obliged you. But the moment you managed to free yourself some time, the people found you in a pair of pants, swinging that old wooden sword with your friends.
Finally, you had finished your reading for the day, getting some free time for your extracurricular activities. But before the teacher could properly dismiss you, your maid knocked and entered the room, a grave expression marring her face.
“Miss, I’m afraid, your mother is at death's door…”, she started speaking, but you jumped from your chair, grabbing the fabric of your dress to allow you to run as fast as you managed.
Your mother, your dear, loving mother, laid there, unmoving in her too-big bed. Her pale frame almost sunk into the soft fabric of the bedding and you were afraid. You were so afraid to step too close and to hurt her.
Still, you carefully sat at the end of the bed, taking her hand in yours, as soft as your rough hands cared to achieve. You only had eyes for her, everyone around you nothing but a blur. Nonetheless, you caught some pieces of information from the people hurrying around you in a senseless frenzy. The white plague. Your mother has been suffering under the act of consumption for longer than any of the people around her anticipated. Her paleness mistaken for lack of sun and worry. Her feverishly red cheeks and lips simply for a mistake in the chosen shade.
You wondered how long she had been plagued by this illness. How long had she been suffering without anyone taking notice? Had she already known prior to this?
Suddenly her lack of presence in your life in the last couple of months started to make sense. She knew you would have noticed her lack of energy immediately. How could you not? Your mother used to be the sun in any dark room. Her presence soothing and warm, even if bright. This woman in front of you was nothing but a pale, sick shadow of her old self. And it hurt you.
It hurt to see the most important person in your life suffer and on the brink of death. Oh, how you would do anything to soothe her aches and take her pains away.
Something cold dripped onto your hands, but you were not able to find the source of those tiny drops. Not until you took a shuddering gasp and a sob broke free, your lungs yearning to scream and cry.
Even if you grew weary and bored of your life, you cared for this woman, it drove you crazy. How were you supposed to move on after this?
People grabbed your sobbing shoulders, but you refused to let go of her frail hand. Someone was whispering empty words into you and you didn’t react with anything but a heartbreaking wail, lowering your head against her hand, pressing her cold skin against your cheeks.
Despite your vehement protest, someone managed to loosen your grip around your dead mother, leading you into your room. After getting pushed onto your own bed, everything became a blur.
You barely noticed getting moved around or getting into a carriage. The only thing you numbly remember was the regret of not telling your friends about your hasty departure. Even if you yourself had not known about it until you arrived back at the mansion you used to live at. You supposed this was your actual home, even if the palace felt more like it.
After your arrival at the mansion, you refused to eat and did not leave your room under any circumstance. At some point, your father's worry grew and he started trying to lure you with different things. Most of them got no reaction from you at all.
“Hello dear. How have you been?”, he asked with a soft voice, taking a seat at the end of the bed. You gave him a tired smile as an answer, your voice itching and scratching.
“Good, good.”, he nodded, taking your hand in his. “I know I have said it multiple times already, but you need to get out a bit… I know, I know. But she would not want you to suffer in such a dark room.” He tried to persuade you, already knowing your answer, even just with your nonverbal facial expressions.
“How about this: You still want to be a knight, don’t you? Well, then we shall get you some proper sword master to teach you. Can’t have you swing a wooden sword without instructions forever.”, and his suggestion made you perk up.
You still wanted to master swordsmanship, but your father had never supported that particular endeavor of yours. Until to this day, it appeared. Even if the circumstances should have been better, your mother should have been there to celebrate that milestone with you. Still, you knew she would have wanted you to run towards your dreams, even if she wasn’t there. You decided to dedicate this work of life to her before you agreed to your father's suggestion with a slight nod and a hesitant smile.
And your agreement seemed to spark some happiness in the eyes of your old man, as his smile gained that special depth. Without further words, because you simply didn’t need to, he pecked your forehead, before standing up. And if he pulled the curtains open and let you bask in the warmth of the estranged sun before he left your room, then so be it. Because this time, the sun didn’t symbolize another day without her, but a new opportunity dedicated to her, in remembrance of her. Starting with that day, you promised yourself to think of her every time you held a sword. Your dear beloved memories with her would lend you whatever strength you would have needed in any possible situation.
Your gaze wanders out of your window, into the beautiful garden. And you were mesmerized by the whipping flowers, almost like it was your first time seeing them. With this breathtaking, familiar view you held your promise close to your heart and planned on never letting go.
#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou x you
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Jungkook: Lacrymaria olor 3
In which Jungkook shows you more of his world, while you grow all the more closer to him.
Tags/Warnings: Alien AU, Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Angst, Blood and Violence, Strangers to I don't know?
Additional Chapter Warnings: Fluff, minor injury and mention of blood
Length: Short
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Incense sticks are burned in golden holders all around the palace, it seems.
When you woke up a few hours ago, Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, so you took it upon yourself to find him. However, curiosity certainly has gotten the best of you by now as you don't even notice you've gotten horribly lost. You don't really mind. Everyone you soot seems occupied and well aware of who you are to the king.
It feels like something is happening today. A festival of some sorts, maids all eager to decorate and chatter a lot more to their fellow workers.
"There you are." Jungkooks voice rings out, the maids you've been looking at bowing immediately and keeping their heads down in trained behavior while the king is present. He's dressed in different clothing today, looking festive in a way you're not sure how to describe, satin garments hiding his physique underneath. "I leave you out of my sight, and you're gone like startled prey." He chuckles, running a hand through your hair.
"What's going on around here?" You wonder, walking next to him as his hand stays on the small of your back, gently leading. "Is something special happening?"
"We're celebrating the planet's turning point." He explains. "The day a new cycle starts, we offer food and dance to the planet, so she grants us another cycle on her lands."
"Oh, so like new year's?" You mumble to yourself, making Jungkook chuckle amused. "No, more like the planet's birthday.." you seem to think. He laughs.
"In a way, that's true." He nods. "We don't own the ground we walk on truly, after all. It's hers, and we're simply living on it. I believe it is why the Temian kind is still thriving, while humans have done nothing but take from the earth." He mercilessly says, no hesitation at all.
"Yeah, we really messed up our planet.." you say a bit sadly, making him shake his head.
"Earth is no longer your home. You belong here now, right at my side." He grins, eyes closing happily for a second before he leads you to a lavishly decorated spot near the throne room. "Come, I'll show you how to make an offering. It's not hard, you'll learn it quickly I'm sure." He nods, sitting down onto the floor with you.
You copy what he's doing next to you; taking one of the wooden sticks that's covered in floral smelling paste before lighting it in the tiny flame provided. He sticks it in what looks like flour maybe, before he brakes off a piece of dark looking bread, placing it in the large bowl in the middle underneath a statue of a beast that looks like something between a dragon and a bear. Then, he takes a silver knife, metal decorated in swirls and symbols, and cuts the end of one of his fingers, the drop of almost black looking blood dripping into the bowl.
This part intimidates you.
"Do you want me to help?" He asks, eyes unreadable as he looks over at you. Without any resistance, you place your hand into his, where he effortlessly does the same to your finger as he did to himself - your own, bright red blood slowly falling into the bowl. He seems mesmerized at the sight, eyes never leaving the wound before he brings it to his lips, licking the excess off before he lets it go from between his lips, an almost sensual smile on then as he watches you.
"Even your blood is sweet, little thing." He tells you, chuckles before he stands up with you. "Lets go sneak into the kitchens. Maybe they have something to eat already for us to steal?" He impishly suggests, before pulling you along with him.
Jungkook is an odd guy sometimes.
He switches from the almost childish young man to the ruthless king in a matter of seconds in front of your eyes, never seems to lose control of himself at any cost, while also appearing untamed in the way he acts. Like a tiger in captivity he maybe appear to be calm and docile, but he's still ready to strike and kill at any chance given to him.
It shows when later that night, when he's offered a sword made by the local weapons union of his kingdom, the first thing he does is inspect its delicate decorated metal before he raises it at the man that gifted it to him, very tip barely touching his throat. It makes you flinch, but nobody else. It seems to amuse and entertain everyone present, if anything.
It reminds you that this is no human culture, no matter how often you compare it.
And slowly, you're coming to terms with it. You yourself will never fully understand any of it, but you have become a lot calmer by now. Jungkook doesn't like violence, no Temian does. But it's part of their culture, their way of showing pride and strength.
Behind closed doors, he easily grows soft, however.
Like now, with his big round red eyes staring at you after you'd asked him if you could sleep next to him tonight. He nods eagerly, throws back the covers, and pulls you close to him before he kills the lights. You've got your head on his chest, and oddly, accompanying his slow heartbeat is a deep rumbling, like a large cat purring.
It's odd. Reminds you he's not the same as you. But at the same time, it calms you down a lot. Makes you feel sleepy and safe, as if nothing could ever hurt you.
You've got your protector right at your side after all.
#bts imagine#bts fanfic#bts fic#jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook x reader#alien jungkook#alien!jungkook
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I'm still on a fairy tale kick! Please give me 5 headcanons for a Sleeping Beauty AU where All for One made up a story about his brother being cursed to prick his finger on a spinning wheel and die as an excuse to keep poor Yoichi locked up and isolated. Maybe he even faked an evil fairy incident. Thank you!
1- Yoichi loves fairy stories, always has, and the beautiful illustrations of them too. AfO has not, because when Yoichi is paying attention to the books, he isn't paying attention to him. When Yoichi asks him why he hates fairies so much, AfO says it's because they ruined Yoichi, cursed him. Gave him his tendency to be ill, and awkward, and that before his sixteenth birthday, he'd be pricked with a spindle and die.
2- Yoichi is pretty sure he made that up, but unluckily for him he's in the au where AfO gets to have a despotic boyking era, so when the prince asks about fairy stories the staff all nod along because he's sweet, and when AfO glares at them, they agree the curse happened. Every regent or advisor who's attempted to control the kid has ended up very dead, so everyone just kinda hope the boy grows out of it. And well, no one's exactly expecting Yoichi to live even to twenty anyway.
3- When the boys are thirteen, the carriage is attacked by someone jumping out of nowhere in a strange mask, holding out a spindle and lunging for Yoichi. AfO knocks them back and the fae flees. AfO announces it's clearly too dangerous for Yoichi to leave the castle grounds. When the boys are fourteen, Yoichi is enjoying the gardens and picking a flower when a lose spindle drops out of the bush, missing where his hand was by inches. He watches from the window as dozens more are found. AfO declares it too dangerous for Yoichi to go outside. When Yoichi is fifteen, something with glowing eyes half crawls through his window before being chased out, the spindle the only thing left. AfO moves Yoichi to a basement room with no windows.
4- Yoichi tolerates it for a time, before telling his brother that once they turn sixteen, this can end, he'll have beaten the curse. AfO remarks that he must have misheard- the curse was before his sixtieth birthday, not sixteenth. The next time that AfO visits, he finds Yoichi despondent, not reacting to anything, including him. AfO has to threaten to kill random servants and guards before Yoichi will eat, but he only speaks to ask to be released, and AfO finish the story. AfO always refuses.
5- eventually, the servants and guards have had enough. A maid flies into AfO's rooms one morning screeching that there are no guards downstairs anymore, only frogs in tiny suits of armor, and she couldn't find the one with the key to the prince's room. AfO races down with his key, the maid not following but slipping outside, and on opening the door finds Yoichi's bed empty. All that's on it is a spindle, wrapped in silvery hair, not thread, and a piece of paper with a drawing of Yoichi, eyes closed in sleep and wearing a crown of tiny golden spindles, with mirrored writing that says "Don't invite the fair neighbors where you don't want them to step."
+1- while AfO has his breakdown, Yoichi and every guard who'd worked down there is already smuggled out of the palace. For his own part, he's in a cart of straw, listening to Bruce complain that they should have saved a couple of the little suits of armor they'd all worked together to make for the frogs his cousin Hikage had helped collect, and Kudo telling him to stop complaining.
#it sucks to have a despotic boyking for many reasons but. i do feel they are very much easy to gaslight with the right own#*plan#and with a whole staff very annoyed at him well..... the guards have already been turn to frogs and the prince carried off asleep to#fairyland! no one knows how to get him back but afo clearly knows soooo much about fairies he'll probably be able to find Yoichi if he uh#just wanders into the woods with some iron and inside out clothing yeah yeah#pocket talks to people#aimportantdragoncollector#ask game
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Twisted Wonderland Marine Biologist!AU Snippet: Mini!Yuu meets a Mermaid
Ugh, I've been so busy with real life stuff lately, but to show you guys that I am reading everything that's being sent in, here's a snippet of a fic response to an ask! The person asked about the mermaid!AU/Marine Biologist AU and wondered: would the boys be more comfortable/curious interacting with mini!Yuu versus older Yuu?
Some notes as a reminder: the boys in the Marine Biologist AU don't speak human languages, but they can understand words based on context and observation. Aside from the Octotrio, everyone is a mermaid/harpy based off of the animal nicknames that Floyd gives them in game!
Also to note (and I will be working on designs once I sit down long enough to do so), the boys will have a less human look to them yet will retain enough details for us to recognize who they are supposed to be.
----------------Begin Snippet----------------
When Yuu woke up, they found themselves alone in the room. Rubbing their tired eyes, they looked around in confusion before they called out, “Mama? Mama!” They waited to see if she would appear, only to be met with silence. This wasn’t the first time they’d woken up in one of the rooms at their mom’s job, and it wasn’t unusual for the adults to be busy with their work.
It also wasn’t the first time they’d snuck out to see the animals.
Excited at the thought of seeing the pretty fish and cute animals again, Yuu climbed out of the cot and pulled their otter plushie Felix with them before toddling out of the room. The hallway was empty, the ceiling towering over them as their footsteps were muffled by the fish tanks and computers. Creeping quietly past the rooms where they could hear adults talking, they couldn’t help but catch a few mumbled words. “-maid…otter……turtle…”
Of all the words, however, the one that caught their attention was ‘otter’, a happy grin crossing their face as they hugged Felix close. They had otters again! Maybe they could play with them and give them shiny new rocks to play with and feel better? The thought was enough to make them hurry over to one of the largest rooms nearby.
Yuu stopped and gasped in awe, staring up at the vast size of the room and the seven large tanks willed with different colors and decorations. Some were more sparkly than others, while some had a more rough and mysterious look to them. Giggling, Yuu toddled over to the closest tank and peered inside. “Oooo,” they cooed, watching as some of the glowing fish flickered in and out of the dark tinted glass. Even the jellyfish looked so gorgeous, mesmerizing the tiny toddler. Seeing a tiny fish flickering close to them, they giggled and waved Felix around to make him dance as they sang, “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming~!”
The fish seemed to follow along with the dancing otter toy for a moment before it suddenly bolted away, Yuu giving a disappointed pout…until something caught their eye. It was big…bigger than anything they’d seen in the tanks before. For a moment Yuu thought that it might’ve been an adult swimming with the animals again, but the shape looked…wrong.
Closer and closer the dark form got, flickers of pink, green, and blue lights running along its body before it emerged into the bright fluorescent lights. Pink and black mottled skin flashed with colorful lights, bright red eyes that seemed to glow staring down at Yuu as they gazed up at it. Short octopus tentacles shifted and settled on the sand as the creature leaned in to get a closer look. The face looked human-ish, but the vampire fangs in its mouth and the flared hair on its head gave them the impression of being a vampire octopus. The sight of this creature with large arms and an eerie look would have unnerved anyone. Yuu, however…
“Wow,” they uttered, eyes shining bright with awe as they reached out to touch the glass with a free hand. “Are you…a mermaid??”
A warm smile crossed the octopus mermaid’s face as it—he, they decided—reached down and placed his own hand where their own was, Yuu marveling over the sheer size of it. A soft, low warble echoed in the water, somehow managing to be loud enough to be heard over the tank motors yet soft enough to be soothing to the ears. He blew out a few bubbles, waving a finger from his free hand around them…and creating shapes in a shower of sparkles!
Gasping, Yuu happily stamped their feet in pure joy as the bubbles—guided by the mermaid’s finger—began to move like the animals he created from them. Dolphins spinning and twirling around, jellyfish gracefully drifting along, eels and octopus floating and swimming along…it was so magical that Yuu didn’t even notice the large form that had quietly landed nearby and was stalking up to them with bright green eyes.
--------------End Snippet-------------
Curious baby meets equally curious non-humans, more at 11!
I'm having so much fun writing this with mini!Yuu, so I hope you guys enjoy it once I find a good stopping point (which may take a while because thoughts of cuteness have taken hold of me 😂)!
#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland marine biologist au#twst marine biologist au#lilia vanrouge#rook hunt#twisted wonderland mini!yuu#twst mini!yuu#rook is not gonna hurt the baby he is just moving like a wary cat investigating something new~! UvU
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The maid of Mr. Barnes - Part 11 (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
The maid of Mr. Barnes
Part 11 - Something everybody should know // Masterlist
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Mafia AU
Warnings: a tiny bit of spice
Summary: You can’t avoid Bucky forever.
The bottom of the clear sky is plastered with several shades of yellow and orange. The sun barely peeks out from behind the horizon and the woods, raising in the distance. The warm rays cover the garden in a golden hue, making everything radiant and beautiful. Small droplets of water glitter and shine on the green lawn. The colorful flowers rock back and forth to the will of the light early morning breeze. Their sweet scent swirls and lingers in the fresh air. Birds hide in the greenery, singing their joyful songs to awaken nature.
You wander around the garden, trying to clear your mind and freshen up before your work starts. Small pebbles creak under your steps as you walk around, thinking. Your conversation with Steve's girlfriend helped you with your mixed feelings. Now you don't feel guilty anymore because of that one kiss. The sane part of your mind still tells you to pack your things and leave, but your other side doesn't let you do it. The truth is, you don't want to quit and not just because you enjoy working here. You like Bucky. He showed you nothing but kindness and patience, and you have no real reason to back away from whatever the future may bring.
Before you know it, you are at the glass roof-protected pool at the back of the garden. Small waves glint under the sun as somebody swims beneath the surface. At first, you don't even know who he is, but before you could move along, disappearing behind the trees and bushes, the man comes up for air, and both of you find yourselves looking at each other. His arms are on the edge of the pool. His muscles bulge on his ink-covered arms and shoulders.
"Oh," you break the silence. "I'm sorry. I didn't know somebody was here."
"It's okay," Bucky smiles. Small water drops glint on his lashes as he blinks them off. "Why are you up so early?"
"I just..." you shrug. It's hard to find the right words when he is half-naked. "I couldn't sleep."
"Do you want to come in?" He asks, nodding to the water behind him.
"I don't have a swimsuit," you reply.
"That's unfortunate," he hums. Bucky wants to say you don't need anything to join him but keeps his mouth shut. He doesn't want to scare you away. "We have to get you one."
"Yeah," you nod, looking around the garden. "I go and let you enjoy your swim. Do you need coffee when you come back?"
A small smirk pulls on his lips as he pushes himself away from the wall. His broad chest is out of the water, and you know he is showing off. The cords of his muscles flex as he moves, and warmth flutters in your belly at the view.
Okay, you think, trying to keep your sanity, I really need to get out of here.
"Or you could stay," he offers. "The water is really good."
You should go. You are not ready to talk to your boss while he is half-naked and wet. But you stay standing there, frozen, thinking about the kiss. His lips seem more tempting like this, wet.
"Okay," you breathe out after a while, taking a seat on the edge of the pool and putting your legs into the warm water. For a second, you are really sad that you have nothing to wear for swimming.
"I heard you talked with Steve's girl," he says after a while, and you know where it's going.
"Yes," you nod. "She is really amazing."
"She is," Bucky agrees. "But you should know, she and Steve tell each other everything."
"And... and there is something they shouldn't know?" You ask, gulping and glaring down the water. You know what he is thinking about, and suddenly, you feel insecure. Maybe talking with Sugar wasn't a good idea. Maybe Sugar was wrong, and Bucky thinks the kiss was a mistake.
"No," Bucky replies, moving closer and closer. "I think everybody should know about it."
"Why?" You glance at him. He is closer than you thought.
"Because everybody should know about my intentions."
He is in front of you now. His large hands are on your ankles, moving up on your legs, massaging your flesh on their way.
"And what are your intentions?" You ask him. Your voice is barely louder than a whisper.
His hands are on the back of your knees, gripping your leg to spread them. You know it's impossible, but you are really afraid he can see the rapid pulsing between your legs. His movements are slow, watching out for your reaction to his closeness.
"First," he says, pushing himself against you. Feeling his chest on yours, you don't even care about your clothes. Your mind is blank as you watch his handsome face. "I want to take you on a date. Tomorrow. How does it sound?"
A date? With him?
"Okay," you whisper, nodding.
"Then," he continues, leaning closer. His warm breath is on your lips, making them tingle with anticipation. "I will woo you to become so obsessed with me as I am with you."
You are sure it's already the case, but you don't tell him that. The thought of Bucky trying to woo you makes you excited.
"You can try," you reply, a bit cheekily when you wake up from the daze he put you in. Your attention turns from the lazy smirk on his lips to his blue eyes.
"I will, Bunny," he hums. His lips are almost on yours. You can feel the rumble of his words. "And I always get what I want."
"Just-," you gulp. You are ready to jump out of your skin at any moment now. "Just kiss me already."
And he does. It's more confident than the last time. Bucky truly knows what he wants and is not afraid to take it. He nibbles on your lips until you open your mouth for him to slip his tongue inside, dominating the kiss with his arms on your hips. Your own hands are on his shoulders, moving up to his neck and keeping him close to you. Your legs are around his hips. You can feel his hardness as he presses himself closer.
"Bucky," you squeak his name into his mouth when you feel his hold tightening around you. "What are you-?"
And with that, you are in the water. Mind still dizzy, and your clothes are soaked. Bucky's laugh is muffled from above the surface.
"Why did you do it?" You gasp, finding the bottom of the pool to stand up, wiping the water off your face. You try to sound angry, but in reality, being in the water feels good, and his arms soon sneak around your waist to pull you against him.
"I thought you should cool down a bit," he replies cheekily. His blue eyes glint with mischief and happiness.
"You should do that too," you tell him, feeling his erection pressed against your hip.
"I have an idea," he hums, leaning closer again, but before he could kiss you again, you splash him across the face, slipping out of his reach.
"Oh, Bunny," he hums. "You are in trouble."
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Your lil maid guys should hug your repair mission eclipse :3 they can be friends!!!
I think it would be an adorable idea! but there could be some problems...
The mini boys would probably be scared to see a version of themselves so deteriorated and in disrepair (maybe it would bring back bad memories?) so it would be difficult to get them closer. Furthermore, the difference in size and proportions is... notable
If it were me I would be scared to see a bigger, broken, bigger-headed "me" out of nowhere. (technically they're chibi proportions, but you get the idea)
On the other hand, in a world where everything is possible:
#tiny maid au#sundrop#moondrop#eclipse ruin#eclipse repair mission#ane doodles yay!#ane is sketching!#I haven't forgotten eclipse! I've just been busy...#maybe I could make some changes to the narration to make it simpler
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Lost and Found
Part 2!
Genshin Impact x Child! God! Fem! Reader
Just a dumb impulsive idea that got a second go around for a cult au with a child reader! Not imposter, and technically probably not SAGAU.
Reader is referred to with she/her. Not proof read. If you see typos, no the fuck you don’t.
Notes: Major thing to note, the “Favored” refer to the main team of four in the game, and the “Auxilary” is the nickname I gave to my off team that I needed to make for the part of Siral Abyss that you needed two teams for. I used my own Favored as I’m the one writing. They are a healthy balance of “Characters I own” and “Characters I pray to RNG to just fucking give them to me GAME”. Other then that, Warning of religious themes, likely out of character moments, child crying, and issues with heights. Enjoy!
<~Part 1 Part 3~>
Word count: 3,372, so a bit shorter then the first.
"How about your name? Would that be alright for me to ask?" Ganyu whispers, the child in her arms looks around at the others fearfully before leaning in closer to the adepti.
Cupping her hand around her mouth and whispering as tiny as possible into the woman's ear "Y/n."
The walk back to the Jade Chamber was quiet. Y/n still held, but passed from Shenhe to Ganyu, who whispered gently to the small girl to keep her attention away from the many many staring Milileth.
Ningguang gave a simple order to the Milileth before taking the two favored and young god away. "I want every known vessel in Liyue at the Jade Chamber before sundown."
Orders given, thief 'captured', and great creator found. What a fruitful day.
<~~~~>
Seated around the courtyard, all of the Qixing, the local Favored, and the other available Vessels gathered. Ningguang seated at the head of the large table she had placed in preparation for this meeting. All gathered as maids inside the chamber looked after Y/n.
Beidou shakes her head at the tense silence, "we all know what this is about, that kid is the Creator, she's the damned god of gods…" Beidou announces, her voice carrying over the group.
Ningguang sighs "yes, and as such there are many procedures we must carry out, and responsibilities that by all right, are hers to handle."
Beidou turns on the other woman "she's just a kid!"
Shenhe cuts her off "I was a child as well when I was thrust into adversity among the divine."
"I mean no disrespect, Ms Shenhe, but you are by no means a good measure for how a child should be treated." Yun Jin intersects soothingly.
"But she isn't completely wrong, child or not, Teyvat needs to know that the Creator has been found, if for no other reason than to allow the other nations to stop their searches." Xingqiu leans back in his seat, holding his chin in thought.
"Yes, but isn't there a way to be able to tell them without the risk of crushing Y/n's childhood?" Ganyu voices nervously.
"Maybe not, considering how nearly the entire Millelith was there to see her cry gold. Secrets ain't easy to keep in Liyue normally, somethin like this… word coulda gotten as far as Wangshu Inn by now!" Xinyan grumbles, seeming annoyed at the way rumors flow from the harbor.
Keqing perks up, eyes moving to Beidou and Shenhe "do you not have a way to speak with the other Favored? The Auxiliary doesn't, but perhaps the creator's favor gives something for that?"
Beidou only sighs tiredly, "no, since the ritual things have been extra quiet on that front, my guess is that since now Y/n is here, the divine energy that connected us before is gone, so no chatter between us unless we're face to face." She rubs at her forehead for a moment, "and as one is the single busiest woman in Mondstadt, and the other is just a normal citizen of Inazuma, I haven't seen or heard a thing from either" she jerks a finger at Shenhe, "and if I haven't, safe money is she hasn't either."
Ningguang lets her eyes rest on the table in front of her, thoughts swirling in different directions on the situation.
Ganyu speaks up "either way however, there is also the matter of her own health." She pauses nervously as all eyes move to her. "When we brought her back to the Jade Chamber she was filthy and practically starved, but refused to eat, and tried to run the moment I put her down for some maids to bathe her."
"I could whip something up for her! Maybe she'll eat that?" Xiangling shouts excitedly.
"It's worth a try, but so far she seems distrustful of us all." Keqing huffs, leaning back in her seat.
"Her favored did threaten her…" Chongyun voices, earning glares from both Beidou and Shenhe.
Rebuttals to come however were cut off. The sound of a door slamming open and several runners. The unmistakable head of h/c zipping away from the stone building, with multiple maids and unarmed guards chasing after.
"Miss, please come back!"
"Slow down, kid!"
"Get back here!"
Every vessel gathered in the courtyard were on their feet at once, several joining the chase, others watching in shock at the sight.
The child managed to reach the edge of the Chamber platform before skidding to a halt. Staring down at the land far far below with wide eyes before turning to face the crowd.
The guards and maids slow down, approaching with their hands out like they're facing a scared animal. Beidou shoving her way to the front, giving a strained smile to try and calm the creator down.
"Hey. Hey, it's ok, you're safe. There's no reason to be scared." Her voice is low, almost a whisper as she gets closer, waving for the crowd that had gathered to back off.
Y/n just shakes her head, staring up at the woman, "I… I can't stay around other humans…" she whispers, looking over her shoulder at the expanse below.
Beidou pauses at her words, shaking her head before smiling and inching forward again "who told you that? Well they're very wrong. It'll be ok, I-"
The girl shakes her head, stepping back to try and put more space between them. Her back heel slipping off the edge. And suddenly she disappeared from sight. Drawing a chorus of screams from the crowd, quickly cut off by the child's own panicked screaming.
Beidou wastes no time.
The moment Y/n slipped she was rushing to reach her. Diving off the Jade Chamber like how she would the Alcor. The tiny flailing figure falling clear ahead, her small limbs flailing. The blur of red cloth hardly gaining as the Chamber shrunk behind them. Hands outstretched to the child, the girl seeing the woman began to reach back, however not bringing them any closer.
"Keep your eyes on me, kid!" She shouts against the wind, unsure if her voice would reach the girl. Her answer was a rushed nod.
Her mind raced as she thought of how to close the gap, any way to speed her up or slow Y/n down. When no plans came to mind panic began to rise, straining to keep from showing her panic on her face even as she fell.
Then the air shifted, a sudden gust of wind at a far from natural angle, and Beidou felt herself speeding up. Faster and faster, before she knew what was happening Y/n was close enough to touch. Quickly wrapping both her arms around the small girl, who immediately gripped onto her. Beidou, in her relief at catching her, almost forgot the next step.
Opening the wind glider so suddenly gave an uncomfortable lurch as the momentum she had built was suddenly being resisted. But looking down to see a small h/c head tucked tight against her shoulder, and feeling tiny hands grip onto her clothes like it was the final life line she would ever get. Beidou could handle some discomfort, knowing Y/n safe against her.
"Ok, kid….. please… don't ever do that again." Beidou manages a chuckle, earning a pair of e/c eyes quietly staring at her.
<~~~~>
To say the sight was odd would be an understatement.
All of Liyue's richest, most powerful and respected vision holders run out of the city, to find Captain Beidou herself walking with a wide and proud smile, hand in hand with a dirty child that hid slightly behind her.
Stranger still when the crowd of vessels gathered around said child and blocked her from view as they reentered the city. The small crowd making their way to Wanmin restaurant. Xiangling disappearing to work her magic as the child found herself seated between Beidou and Ningguang, shrinking in on herself under the numerous gazes watching her. The group waiting for other customers to leave before making a noise.
Ningguang lets out a quiet sigh as the last of the other patrons in the restraint make their way out, her eyes moving to find Y/n staring up at her, just for the girl to jump slightly and quickly look away. "Why did you run, Y/n?" Her voice is low and gentle as she moves one hand to try and offer a comforting gesture the child shrinks away, causing the woman to pause in surprise at the reaction.
"I don't want to be in trouble." The girl's voice is still small, hardly louder than a whisper when she speaks, every word laced in fear.
Beidou chuckles before Ningguang can respond, a hand moving to ruffle the girl's already tangled hair "now why in the world would you be in trouble?" The girl seems to relax more at Beidou's touch, a detail not missed by the Tianquan.
Y/n turns to look at Beidou instead "the mages said I would, they said I can't be around humans for too long or else I would be in trouble."
The small crowd goes quiet for a moment, Xingqiu thinking out loud "but why would a vision user say that to you?"
E/c eyes move to the boy next "what? No, the other mages. Short, fluffy, skip on air?"
The blue haired boy partially stands in surprise "an abyss mage talked to you?!" He shouts in shock, instantly causing the girl to cower at the outburst, and promptly earning the harsh glare of both Beidou and Ningguang.
Both women looking down when they felt shaking, Y/n trying to curl in on herself, her hands held up around her ears as the tiniest whimper slips out of her mouth "I'm sorry!"
Ningguang gently places her hand on Y/n back, moving in slow soothing circles as the girl's shaking slowly stops, speaking in a gentle voice "how about we not talk about that now?"
As if the Archons themselves agreed, Xiangling chose that moment to drop several plates down on the table. Meals of varying styles and ingredients all arranged in the beautiful mess that had come to be synonymous with Xiangling's style of cooking, "there we go! Enjoy!"
Y/n jumping at the older girl's voice, but not starting to curl up after. Soon the girl began to reach a small hand out over the table, moving to have some food before freezing. Looking up to see the group all staring at her, Y/n pulls back, looking down nervously before her eyes moving to Beidou and Ningguang, as if waiting for something.
Ganyu can't help the growing nerves as even with a spread like this laid out the child creator still won't eat. She leans forward to be easier to see by Y/n, "try any of it you'd like!" Her soft spoken tone managing to get Y/n to look at her.
"Is… is that ok?" She asks nervously, looking again to Beidou, who simply smiles, plucks a piece from one dish and pops it in her mouth.
"Yep! But eat quick, Xiangling's cooking rarely lasts long!" Beidou chuckles, and seeming more convinced Y/n pulls food closer and starts to take slow nibbles.
Over time the crowd of vessels slowly file out, some having their own duties to see to, others simply trusting that the Creator would be safe with the others. But all still ruminating on how the meeting to make a decision had not reached its end. Would they tell the Y/n that she is the summoned god of gods?
Ningguang's mind stormed with that thought, Y/n is undeniably their creator, but she is just a child, one that has already faced considerable hardship. But so many in Teyvat had been searching tirelessly since the ritual had finished, it would not be fair to let them simply believe that the Creator was still out there. Yet this girl is so skittish, even as she relaxed into the meal Ningguang did not miss how often her head would turn to double check that the entrance was still open.
When the plates had been cleaned and half the gathered vessels had gone. Y/n leans her head against Beidou, her eyelids beginning to visibly droop. The group speak quieter as Y/n's breathing evens out and the tiniest sound almost like a snore is heard.
"So… what are we actually going to do?" Keqing whispers, eyes flicking down to the now sleeping child.
"What can we do? If we make a full announcement that the creator has been found, then her chance at just being a child disappears." Ganyu fidgets nervously as she looks between the people at the table.
"But if we do nothing then all those who have searched tirelessly for her will only continue to do so in vain." Xinqiu lightly taps his finger on the table, seeming deep in thought.
Ningguang stares down at Y/n, the girl snuggling as close as she can into Beidou's side. Her eyes moving up to take in Beidou herself, the sailor looking somehow both mildly uncomfortable and utterly at peace. "Then we'll only tell the favored."
All eyes at the table move to Ningguang, the woman gathering her thoughts for a moment before explaining. "She had two teams of favored, correct? The true Favored and then the auxiliary. Both teams include people of notable repute in the three nations that were involved in the summoning ritual. So we send letters to all of the favored, and the Traveler, expressing the importance of secrecy in this matter." Her voice is unwavering, even with her quiet tone.
A silent pause goes over the table, Beidou's eyes going from Ningguang, to Keqing, to Shenhe. "Well we have three of those nine recipients of the news here, two more are in Mondstadt, and I believe the Traveler is still in Inazuma so that would make the final four there."
"So two letters that need to be carried north, and four that need to get across the ocean. Would it be faster to use the Alcor to get to Inazuma?" Ganyu says.
Beidou puffs up slightly at the mention of her ship, "well of course, I could bring those letters there and the other Favored back in no time at all."
Ningguang interrupts her, "No. Unless you're confident that the Alcor could make that trip without you on it, we'll figure out something else."
"What?!" Beidou shouts slightly, before quickly checking to see that Y/n is still sleeping before more quietly hissing through her teeth "you want me to send out MY ship without me on it?"
Ningguang just partially turns to face the captain, unphased by her outburst, "we need you here." She gestures down to where Y/n is sleeping on the woman "so far you're the only one that can really make her relax enough to not make a run for it. So unless we want our promise of having found her to mean nothing as she disappears again, you will stay here with her."
That seems to quiet Beidou again, though she keeps the glare in her eyes, even as her hand moves to gently pet the sleeping girl. The group again slipping into silence.
For the first time since the initial meeting, Xiao speaks up, "write all the letters, I can bring them to Mondstadt faster than any human."
Ganyu looks up surprised at his words, "but what about your contract?"
"This is for the good of Liyue. Not to mention the creator god, Rex Lapis would understand the importance of this." Xiao's voice is quiet, his eyes moving to Ningguang, "have your letters to Mondstadt ready by tomorrow night, and I will take less than a day to get there and back."
Ganyu cuts in again "and then perhaps one of the Mondstadt Favored will be able to watch her instead while you go to Inazuma, Beidou."
Beidou looks down at Y/n again, a slow drawn out gaze before nodding, "I can't believe I'm actually agreeing to stay on land for this long…"
<~~~~>
In the silence of night one can gather their thoughts rather easily, be it to count their doubts, lay out a plan for the next day, or simple considerations for what the past day had held. Ningguang found herself taking in all three, sitting at her desk, a small stack of envelopes waiting to be filled, beside an already half written letter.
Is this the right course of action? To keep the god of gods a guarded secret? From the Archons even. Limited only to the Liyue vessels and those who are suspected to be trustworthy enough to know the truth. But what about those who couldn't make it to the meeting? Neitger Hu Tao nor Yelan could be found in time and so they carried out business without them. Should they remain ignorant of Y/n?
A soft knock at the door pulls Ningguang out of her own head. "Enter." Steady as the stone that empowers her, not the slightest hint of her doubts leak into her voice.
The curved horns of Ganyu peak around the edge of the door first, "we finally managed to put their grace to bed." More of her face inches out from around the door before her whole head is poked in.
"Thank the Archons, I hope that means no late night chase?" Ningguang can't help the small smile that makes it onto her lips.
Ganyu shakes her head, "it took Beidou and I some time, but we got her comfortable enough with one of the maids to get her to let them bathe her. Her room has a few guards outside just in case, but she seemed exhausted, so I doubt she'll be waking up before morning."
Ningguang hums for a moment before closing her eyes, a short break out of relief, reopening to see Ganyu still staring at her. "Is there anything else?"
Ganyu's features take on a pink hue, looking away nervously. "You remember the Traveler talking about the kameras from Fontaine, correct?"
The taller woman tilts her head slightly in confusion, "yes?"
Ganyu opens the door more to show the brown box in her hand "I ended up buying one, and well… there's something I thought you might like to see, if I may." She nods her head slightly, only entering the room fully when Ningguang waves for her to do so.
Ganyu walks with quiet steps as she strides to Ningguang's desk, kamera tucked under one arm and a small piece of paper in the other, gently laying the paper in front of Ningguang before taking a small step back.
The small smile Ningguang wore before can only grow at the paper before her. A small image, Beidou laid out across a bed, her eye shut and mouth open wide in a snore, one arm tossed wide to her side, the other curled protectively around the tightly curled up form of Y/n, her h/c locks catching the light the way only still wet hair can.
"It's a little hard to believe she isn't a normal child in that." Ganyu breaks the silence, a peaceful smile on her face as she fidgets with kamera dials.
Ningguang's smile fades only slightly "you're right…" The woman moves to hand back the paper, but the adepti waves her away.
"No no, you can keep that one, I have my own copy." Ganyu looks over the desk for a moment, "would you like some assistance with the letters, lady Tianquan?"
Ningguang settles back, her eyes gazing over the picture, "no, I can handle it, you should go rest, I'm sure Beidou will appreciate the help with watching Y/n."
Ganyu just quietly bows and retreats from the office, the sound of the door closing rousing Ningguang to move again. Gently placing the picture on the table, Ningguang takes up her pen once more.
They should keep this secret. Y/n is not an ordinary child, but she shouldn't get mixed up in the affairs of the world yet. Not at this age. She deserves to feel normal, if only for a bit.
Post Reading notes: In my head the Jade Chamber is just as much an office building as it is a house. So I imagine that were Ganyu to find something to use as abed time story, the likelihood of it being legal documents is quiet high. Thus when she read them as a bed time story, Beidou ended up falling asleep faster then Y/n.
Taglist: @messyserver @twstfan-san @saltysugarysembei
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#ninggaung#beidou#shenhe#keqing#ganyu#why do I do this to myself?#yun jin#xingqiu#xinyan#xiangling#chongyun#xiao#genshin cult au#genshin sagau#sorta#child reader#god reader#genshin impact x reader#baby came slightly closer to harm#again I just make shit up and do the little tap dance to pass it off as truth#Lost and Found
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happy birthday / james potter
pairing: prince!james potter x maids daughter!reader
warnings: royal!au, status difference, mild swearing
summary: his royal highness has a soft spot for an unlikely girl.
a/n: i thought of this in class and it’s the most tropey and cliche thing but it was so fun ?? also i’m now extremely fond of writing for the marauders so yay i think. i’ll probably be writing more of this au just because i enjoyed doing it a ton !!
⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
“Princess, do you think this shirt looks good on me?” James asks. He knows he looks good, he just wants to hear it from you; the voice he values the most.
You laugh knowingly. “Yes, James. I think it makes you look dashing.”
He raises a brow. “Does it?” You nod. He makes a show of adjusting his tie and cuff links, staring at you in the mirror.
And you can’t help but blush. He really is handsome. His hair is messy, the style that his mum scolds him for and you encourage.
Guess whose opinion he follows.
James has never been ashamed of you or your status. It’s the bare minimum, but you’re grateful.
He’s all gold and chalice, while you’re.. you. The daughter of his own fucking maid with just enough money to buy him a cheap ring. It’s plastic, for goodness sake.
“Happy birthday, Jamie,” you say, calling him a nickname just because you can. It’s lovely, since you know he likes it and you also know you’re one of the few people who’ll even dare use the name.
“Thank you.”
He’s getting ready for a birthday ball that he doesn’t even want to go to.
“I’d much rather spend the day with you,” he’d said.
But he knew people were waiting on him, and there was going to be food, so perhaps it’s not that bad. As long as he gets time with you after.
You take a deep breath, pulling the tiny box out of your pocket. “I have something for you.” You’re worried. Not because you think he won’t like it, he’ll love it. It’s just shameful in your eyes. He’s given you expensive things you never thought you’d be able to touch in your lifetime. He’s given you the world.
“You do?”
Instead of a response, you hold the box out in front of him, waving it in his face.
He takes it gratefully, elegantly. His eyes widen. Shit. Does he hate it? No, he probably already has one. Silly of you to think he doesn’t have hundreds of them littering his storage. He hates it.
You clear your throat, prodding for an answer.
“Oh my god, this is amazing, thank you,” he finally says, delight filling his voice.
“I know it’s not much, and you likely—“
“Shut up. It’s beautiful, I love it. Also, does this technically mean you’re proposing to me? Because I don’t have anything prepared. Sorry, darling,” he praises it so easily. Like it’s not an act and like he actually does love it.
Maybe he does.
Your suspicions were confirmed when he slipped the ring on his finger, a little heart adorning the band. He admires it, looking at it in awe.
“This is the best thing anyone’s ever gotten for me. No kidding.”
And to further show his appreciation, he plants a tender kiss on your cheek, one that sort of feels like a present in itself. You’re forgetting whose special day it really is.
None of his fancy crowns or jewels’ shine can compete with that on his face. The smile on James’ lips is a million times brighter than all of them, you’re sure of it.
“Thank you for this. Really,” he adds, as if the kiss and the compliments weren’t enough.
You can only flash him a grin. Then a, “I’m not proposing to you! Not yet, at least.”
“Bold of you to think I wouldn’t do so first.”
There’s nothing James loves more than making you flustered.
#🎞 by.ivy#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter oneshot#harry potter#hp fanfiction#james potter fluff#james potter x you#james potter x reader#james potter oneshot#james potter x y/n#james potter#marauders oneshot#marauders fanfiction
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Labour?
(Title is still in the works) This is just a brief prologue. With an abrupt ending.
Main pairing: Geraskier,
Side pairings: Vesemir/Original Male Character, Eskel/Original Female character.
Tags: Alpha/Omega/Beta au, canon divergence, arrange marriage -kind of?
Vesemir looks down, unimpressed at the young omega at his feet, even less so at the omega’s beta ‘father’ that put him there. Male omegas were as rare as alpha females, unheard of but not impossible. The boy wasn’t a tiny thing like his omega; he was all limbs and about as tall as his oldest, with no hips to speak of. This wasn’t the first time men have tried to sell their unwanted children off to the witchers to pay their debts. But Vesemir already had enough pups and wasn’t looking for another.
“And what am I to do with him?” Vesemir asks, looking back up at the court. “He’s no child surprise, far too old for the mutations to take.”
The beta growls a low warning, which is unimpressive, but Vesemir doesn’t allow the challenge to go unpunished. Growling back louder, a vicious snarl that sends the beta aback. A fraction of a movement caught Vesemir’s eyes: a young girl hanging off the skirts of her maid. The red swollen mark on her cheek would soon become a proper bruise. She was a timid thing, holding on to a well-cared-for doll.
“She’ll do,” Vesemir says, his eyes narrowing on the girl. "She’ll make a fine playmate for my youngest.”
“No!” The forgotten omega at his feet snaps, grasping Vesemir’s arm, pulling attention back onto him. “You will not touch her.”
Cornflower blue meets harden amber, the first time Vesemir had seen the omega’s eyes full of defiance. The pieces clicked; maybe he would have a use for this omega after all.
“Very well, then,” Vesemir shacks his arm out of the boy’s grasp. “I’ll take the omega off your hands, as well as his dowry.”
“Dowry!” The beta yells,
“Yes, if he is to mate one of my sons, a dowry is to be paid,” Vesemir explains, taking the time to now circle around the omega. “Then again, you are trying to cheat your way out of a 1,000 crown contract. You must not even have a dowry for your children.” A few snickers meet Vesemir’s ears, it seems someone else was enjoying the look of humiliation on the Lord’s face. After that, getting the dowry, a horse for the omega, and a bag of his belongings didn't take much convincing.
“Go witcher.” The lord sneered, “Do not expect a warm welcome again.”
—-------
It was a long ride to where ever the Witcher alpha was taking him. While Jaskier was pleased to be away from his father, he will dearly miss his little sister and hope she will be safe without him there to protect her. The alpha didn’t speak much or at all, only deeming him worthy of conversation to command when to rest, eat, and water the horses.
Jaskier wasn’t good at silence, so he spent most of the time lost in his head, humming songs or speaking softly to himself. He had made it through most of Hannelore Varidil’s epic poem, which he had memorized years ago. When they had stopped in a village outside of Kaedwen after weeks of camping outside, Jaskier was ready for a real bed, even if it was filled with straw. The Witcher dismounted effortlessly, while Jaskier still hadn’t mastered it. Once his feet touched solid ground, a young boy quickly gathered the reins in exchange for a few coins.
“Come.” One-word commands. It seems that all the conversation Jaskier will ever have. Vesemir leads him to some form of market, stalls set up near two established buildings, the inn, and a tailor. Assuming they were heading for the inn, Jaskier didn’t think much but walked forward, only to be stopped by Vesemir.
“Finally going to sell me then?” Jaskier couldn’t help the quip as it left his mouth. Then, he braced himself for a smack that never came, only a chuckle.
“Not worth the hassle.” Vesemir answered, “They’ll probably arrest me for kidnapping.”
“Fair. So what are we doing?”
“Shopping.” Vesemir turned to the nearest stall, selling vegetables, and moved on before finding a traveling merchant with what he needed.
“A master Witcher,” the merchant smiled. Vesemir didn’t need his secondary gender to tell him what he needed from the man. The Distaste was obvious, but he wouldn't turn down a paying customer.
“A blue Opal pendant to match your omega’s beautiful eyes.” The pendant was beautiful, and its silver wiring suited it better than the gilded sapphire next to it.
Vesemir huffed but didn’t correct the merchant; instead settled on a crescent moon-shaped jasper with bronze wiring. “My mate prefers the simpler things in life,” Vesemir admits, holding the necklace in the light.
“A young thing such as him-“
“He’s not my mate. He’s for my son.” Vesemir growls,
#Witcher#Geraskier#Geraskier a/o/b#geralt of rivia#jaskier the bard#jaskier#omega Jaskier#Alpha Geralt
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DOVE
genre ➳ fluff. prince au. childhood friends to lovers. a pinch of angst maybe?
warnings ➳ tiny bit of crying. mysterious unspecified heart disease. harua kinda flirts but he doesn't know it lmao.
pairing ➳ prince!harua x fem!reader.
wc ➳ 2.6k.
Harua was born very sick. He had a hereditary heart condition— the same as his mother. Hearing the news of his condition a few hours after his birth, his father decided that he was too fragile to take on the role of a prince, so he was kept hidden from the world.
From that moment on, Harua was never allowed outside unsupervised. He was confined inside the castle where the palace nurses could make sure he was safe 24 hours a day. Whenever he went outside, he was accompanied by his mother and 2 nurses. They were all paranoid that his heart might stop at any minute.
Harua never felt as fragile as they told him he was.
His mother often took him to the beach when he was little as the doctors said the seabreeze was good for him. Harua loved everything about the beach. He loved the shells that he found on the shore, how they twisted and spiralled into different colours. He loved the waves, their constant push and pull towards the shore and towards his feet. He loved how the sand felt between his toes, how soft and smooth it was. He loved how he could build little castles with the sand depending on how much water he added.
But, most of all, he loved the girl who found the shells, raced against the waves, walked along the shore, and built castles with him. He loved the girl who made him feel normal. No mentions of being royalty. No mentions of his weak heart. You made him feel at ease, even as a little child.
You were always on the beach whenever Harua came, and he used to come almost every day. It didn’t matter what you were doing with him, any time spent with Harua was precious to you.
When Harua was 12, his mother died of her heart condition. Her sudden death caused such a stir in the kingdom, that the palace almost completely shut down. The king fell into a depression, having lost his precious wife. He spent most of the day by her grave and did not speak to Harua or anyone else in the castle.
Without his mother to accompany him, Harua was no longer allowed to go off the castle grounds. He was able to access the gardens and the little patch of woods where wild mushrooms and forest creatures dwelled, but he could not go to the sea.
He could not see you.
It wasn’t just the king that seemed sorrowed by the queen’s passing, even Harua’s nurses and maids who he had become good friends with barely spoke a word to him anymore. It was like everyone had forgotten his existence, trying to keep the kingdom alive with the king almost completely isolating himself from society.
Harua missed the balls and the laughter. He missed seeing his mother in pretty dresses and dancing with princesses. He missed the palace he once knew— the palace that was alive. But nothing could compare to how much he missed you.
He spent most days by his window, like he was sitting now. If he squinted hard enough, he could just barely see the start of the shoreline in the far distance. It didn’t seem so far away when he was little, but now it was practically unreachable.
He tried not to cry. An 18 year old prince should not be swayed to tears so easily. But his life really was miserable, and shining tears slipped down his milky cheek the longer he stared out the window.
He was trapped.
His mother used to sing a song when he was little, the lyrics depicting a dove trapped in a cage with a broken wing. It’s situation seemed helpless, until a small swallow helped it. He didn’t realise when he was younger that his mother was comparing him to the dove. But now, he was starting to realise what she meant.
The cage that the dove was confined in was the palace. The dove’s broken wing was his weak heart. And the swallow who saved the dove from its life of isolation and loneliness was you.
He wanted to rush out of the palace and sink his feet into the warm sand again, but he knew that no one would let him leave. Sneaking out was an option, but Harua didn’t know if he had the courage to pull something like that. His entire life he had been well behaved and obedient. He listened to his parent’s requests and followed their rules. Yes, he was 18 now. Technically an adult. But he had never broken a rule in his entire life. Somehow, the thought of breaking that streak was worse than anything.
If he couldn’t go out and see you, maybe there was another solution.
Harua may not have taken on princely duties most of his life, but he knew how things worked in the palace. He knew the offices and which people to go to if he wanted to find someone— summon someone.
So, he did. He sent a request for Miss Y/n L/n to be sent to the palace immediately. Doing as little as that was very satisfying for Harua. He had never been allowed to lift a finger his entire life. He was dismissed as incompetent because he was sick. But, he was smart and witty. He had learned the ins and outs of the palace from just observation.
Now that the request was sent, all that was left to do was wait. He hadn’t seen you since he was 12, and the longer he waited in the entranceway of the palace, the more he felt nervous to see you again.
He had always liked you, and he still did after all this time. You were the only girl that he really knew. The princesses he had danced with had been pretty, but they were all the same once you tried to get to know them. And maybe he was always subconsciously comparing them to you. It was like they faded into the distance whenever he thought of them compared to you.
If Harua had to describe you, he would compare you to freshly blossomed flowers or rich chocolate cake. The splash of cool water on a hot day or the crackle of a wood on fire. You were vibrant and full of life. He couldn't explain just how wonderful you were. There weren’t enough words in the world to even begin to scratch the surface of you. He could easily spend his entire life admiring you.
And all of this was just from his memory of you. Harua wondered how much you would have changed in 6 years. Did you still love seashells and the waves? Did you still love strawberry shortcake more than any other dessert in the world? Did you still prefer light blue dresses to pink?
Harua knew that he had changed in 6 years. He didn’t smile as much. He didn’t even remember the last time he had laughed. He spent most of the time in the library when before he had never even wanted to touch a book.
As he thought through it all, he only became more impatient to see you again. He had already checked in his mirror to make sure he looked his best, but it had been hours since he sent the request. Surely it wouldn’t be that much longer?
Thankfully, it wasn’t. The guards announced your arrival an hour later, and Harua raced to the front entrance. He had had hours to think and prepare himself for seeing you again, 6 years later, but nothing could have prepared him for just how beautiful you looked.
You were dressed simply in a plain dress, certainly nothing fancy compared to your elegant surroundings. Your hair was tied back and it reminded Harua of how much you used to hate tying your hair back when you were little. Maybe that’s one of the ways you had changed. You looked confused and a little unsettled.
Harua’s heart dropped at the thought that the guards might have been rude to you or been too rough escorting you to the palace. What if you thought you had done something wrong? Did you think you were called here for a bad reason?
You turned and finally made eye contact with Harua. He felt like your gaze had completely frozen him to his spot, his feet sticking to the floor no matter how hard he tried to move them. But as you looked at him, he saw your expression relax and all the fear in your eyes melt away. It faded his nerves as well, and he was able to offer you a small smile.
“Y/n?” It felt surreal calling out the name after so many years. You were his best friend, his closest companion. You had known him since you were a baby. So why did he feel so awkward?
“Harua!” You smiled— god, he had missed your smile. You looked elated, as if it were your birthday or something. You eagerly stepped forward, embracing Harua in a hug before the boy had time to think.
It was kind of like his brain malfunctioned at that point. You had been several feet away just seconds ago but now you were so close, arms wrapped around his still frozen figure, face buried in the crook of his neck. It felt as if nothing had changed. Nothing was different. 6 years had passed but you were still Y/n and he was still Harua.
He relaxed completely, smiling just as widely as you and wrapping his arms around you, giving you a gentle squeeze. He could smell your hair from how close he was, picking up the subtle hints of lavender and rose. It was comforting and familiar and he hugged you closer.
“I missed you.” You whispered, laying your cheek against his chest and you could just barely make out his heartbeat— it was racing. You were glad you weren’t the only one.
“I missed you too. I’m sorry I left that day.” He mumbled, referencing the last day he had seen you. Palace guards had come unexpectedly and taken Harua back to the palace without a single explanation for him or you. You thought you would see him again the next day, but he never showed up. You waited for an entire week at the beach, waiting for him to come back. You never knew why he wasn’t able to until now.
Harua showed you his room and around the castle grounds. It was most deserted, but still glamorous and elegant. You had never seen such intricate architecture and sophisticated decorations. There were paintings hung on the wall that were twice as tall as you, and statues in the gardens so lifelike and impressive that you could only wonder how much they cost.
As it grew later in the evening, Harua took you to the dining hall where an immaculate dinner spread was provided by the chefs. It was just you and him in the endlessly big palace. He showed you the attic filled with artifacts and the 3 story library that had secret rooms in the bookshelves. The day was filled with wonder and laughter and reunion. You never wanted it to end.
It was dusk and Harua was walking in the garden with you, hand-in-hand. The moon was up in the sky, showing itself as the sun set for the day, soft pinks and yellows mingling together in the sky before fading to a dark blue. It was gorgeous.
“Harua?”
“Hm?”
“Do you remember the promise you made me when we were 11?” You weren’t sure why your brain thought of it at this very moment, but the thought made you smile.
“That I would marry you?” He responded immediately, the memory still clear in his head.
“Yeah. I still have the ring, you know.”
“Really?”
“I wasn’t going to throw it out, obviously. I always thought one day I’d reunite with you and you’d make the promise come true, you know?” You said, words floating along with the breeze.
“Do you still want it?” He looked at you, eyes shimmering— sparkling like the stars. He was the prettiest boy you had ever seen.
“If you… would settle for a girl like me.” You gulped, but the lump in your throat didn’t go away. When you were little, you didn’t understand the difference in class. You didn’t realise how absurd the thought of someone like you marrying a prince was. Though, it seemed to work out in fairytales.
“I wouldn’t be settling for anything less than perfect.” Harua said sternly.
“Did you forget that you’re a prince?”
“I don’t feel like a prince, Y/n. There’s nothing about me that screams princelike.” He said with a frown, “And I’ve never met anyone who I liked better than you. If anyone asked me to describe the perfect person, I would only ever be able to think of you.”
You blushed at his words, looking away at a rose bush to distract yourself from his pretty face. He seemed to notice your embarrassment and it made him smile. He silently picked one of the roses from a nearby bush— a soft yellowy-pink one that reminded him of you. He offered it to you, brushing a strand of your hair behind your hair as he did so.
“You’re blushing.” He said softly, almost in awe of the pretty colour that tinted your cheeks.
“You’re not helping.” You replied back, carefully taking the rose from his hand.
“Huh?”
“Harua!” You whined, frustrated that the boy didn’t seem to realise the effect his actions had on you.
“I’m sorry-”
“Don’t be.” You pressed a finger to his lips, preventing him from speaking another word. “It’s endearing.”
This time, he blushed at your words, his once confident eyes shying away from your gaze. You wanted to coo at how cute the sight was, or maybe you really were just too enraptured by the boy that sat in front of you.
“You really want to?” You asked again, wanting him to clear away any last bit of uncertainty that you had. You were still guarding your heart, too scared that it might get broken if you offered it to Harua.
But, his eyes softened and he nodded and gave you a reassuring smile. The gaze melted away all your worries and doubts, and you put all your trust in him.
���Then I’m all yours.” You whispered.
If you had thought about this in terms of the books you had read, you should’ve known that a kiss would come next. You shouldn’t have been surprised when Harua started to lean in, soft lips searching for yours. But you were never able to predict anything with Harua, and so, when his lips finally pressed against yours, your heart was startled. It skipped a beat and then sped up, thumping heavily in your chest. You started to wonder if this reaction was normal.
Harua’s lips felt plush and soft, somehow much more moisturised than yours. They felt nice— a heart fluttering, blush-inducing feeling that you never wanted to end. But, neither of you had unlimited breath, and you had to pull away eventually.
Harua’s eyes held such fondness as he looked at you after the kiss, your eyes still closed, cheeks burning. You were so pretty, so precious to him. He loved you more than anything in this world.
You were his swallow.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ &team taglist: open!
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