#to find them. the only ‘retired’ part of it is that now neither of them are actively seeking out villains.

[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones - XXI

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse. Please Note: This chapter will contain physical violence with some implied language that may be triggering.

This chapter was previously part of chapter 20 and as I have been editing and reuploading the chapters, I have since decided to split chapter 20 into two. 

shoutout to @abruisedmuse for being my beta reader through it all ♥️

tagging: @climb-the-mountian / @vanserrass / @zenkindoflove / @readthelastpaage / @animezinglife / @positivewitch / @krem-does-stuff / @clockwork-ashes / @carolynmezzosoprano / @carnythian / @runningwiththeoceans / @secret-third-thing / @readychilledwine / @goldenmagnolias / @thedarkinmansfield / @mali22 / @maidr-00 / @electromagnetic-waves / @devilsfoodcake22 / @moonfawnx / @weesablackbeak / @ladywhilemia / @alohaangels / @eastofatlanta / @moobell55 / @bibliophiliaxvignette / @eachies / @feysandfeels / @thelovelymadone / @corcracrow / @dawneternal / @teddyhoneybear / @sinnerrsworld / @gracie-rosee / @stormycleric / @queenoftheworld1998 / @wolvesnravens / @theeternalstruggle / @the-midnightwriter / @illyrianvalkyrie / @that-golden-lyre / @ladystarrynight

Find it all here.

They were in the empty throne room this time. 

His father liked it when it was empty; the echoes it caused with each beating seemed to spur him on. Changing locations of his punishment was Beron’s way of keeping the trauma fresh. Made them hate their home a little more each time. As if his family needed any other reason to hate this place aside from having him reside in it.

Eris stood, his expression schooled to indifference and his hands clasped behind his back. His father had made him stand here in silence for what had felt like a decade but neither of them would say anything. Eris wouldn’t dare say a word before his father spoke. 

His father liked his games. 

Instead, he let his eyes wander around the room as his thumb tapped the back of his hand, not wanting to make eye contact with his father. He didn’t know if he could look at him without his anger bursting and Eris was already teetering on the edge today. The visceral need to be with his wife threatened to consume him, especially knowing that his father had brought him here for pain. Had wanted Iris here to witness it. Or likely worse. 

His mate. He should’ve told her before he left. But he had been a coward and an idiot and was now on the cusp of losing his mind completely if his father so much as mentioned her. 

So, he didn’t look at the High Lord. Instead, he glanced at the large windows and the light of the sunset shining through. It would be dark soon and Eris didn’t like being near his father in the dark.

It brought out the worst in him. He didn’t know how his mother had done it all these years.

“Where is your wife?” 

Beron’s question seemed to ricochet off the walls but Eris kept his gaze on the windows and kept his body as relaxed as possible, tapping his thumb to the back of his hand.

His eyes remained on the filtering sunlight as he asked, “What can I do for you, Father?”

“You are not the only person I requested to see.” Beron snapped. “Did your idiot brother not relay my message correctly earlier?”

A muscle flexed in Eris’s jaw, his fist clenching then relaxing at his back. “Finn conveyed your message verbatim, I assure you.”

“Then I ask again, where the fuck is your wife and why is she not with you at this very moment as requested?”

“My wife has retired for the evening. It has been a long day.” Eris replied blandly. “Again, what can I do for you, Father?”

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, boy.” Beron snarled and finally, after taking a calming breath through his nose, Eris let his gaze meet his father’s. 

The High Lord’s face was flushed in anger and Eris knew to give his father a few moments. To wait until Beron sat back, until his anger melted into simple disdain.

Eris waited until the palpable violence had simmered down just a bit then calmly said, “I’m looking now, Father.”

“As you should’ve been the moment you walked in.” Beron spat and his eyes narrowed at his son. “I didn’t realize our windows were so interesting.”

“The sunset is always pleasant to see.” he only replied and Beron scowled.

“Why is your wife not with you?” 

Again, Eris fought back the urge to scream. To shout to the rooftops. He desperately fought the urge not to ram a sword in his father’s neck as he craved. He didn’t want his father to mention Iris, let alone be in the same room as her. 

He stayed quiet for a moment, the feeling of dread tightening in his chest. His father was going to drag this out. “I thought we had an understanding about my wife, Father.” he said and the clipped tone had Beron narrowing his eyes.

“An understanding.” His father repeated with a hum and Eris forced himself to keep that bored expression, to keep his face as bland as possible. “We did discuss this before, didn’t we?”

“Yes. We did.” 

“But…” his father began and Eris braced himself. “Things can change, can’t they?”

His fists clenched behind him and try as he might, he couldn’t stop the scowl from blooming on his face. “Father,” Eris tried, after another calming breath. “Is there a specific purpose to this conversation?”

Beron snorted, a finger tapping his knee as he gazed at his son. “Purpose of this conversation? I have to have a purpose to speak to my favorite son?”

The bastard was going to keep toying with him then. 

Eris gave his father a tight smile. “I am always at your service whenever you need me,” he said. “This matter seemed urgent.”

Beron gave Eris a small smile that had Eris tightening his fists even more. “Tell me about your day, son.” Beron continued, his tone conversational enough that it put Eris even further on edge. “How was the visit with your father-in-law?”

Eris blinked. His mind flashed to the panic that had coursed through his body — the panic that his wife had felt when she was alone with her abuser once more and he forced himself to take another silent breath. He smothered down the rage that had surged through at the mention of his piece of shit of a father-in-law and forced him to quirk a brow and pleasantly reply to his father, “It was productive.”

“Productive.”

The corner of Eris’s mouth lifted into a humorless smile. “I’d say Lord Aron and I bonded well.”

Beron let a beat of silence pass then quirked a brow. “Bonded, you say?” 

The humorless smile remained on Eris’s face as he tilted his head. “Yes.”

He waited in silence as his father watched him. 

Beron had never typically cared if Eris had gotten a little…unhinged when hurting someone. Usually, he encouraged it. But he wasn’t foolish enough to think that this time would be the same. 

Eris had hurt Aron for Iris and well, that simply wouldn’t do for his father. 

Cold anticipation filled the pit of Eris’s stomach as Beron stood from his throne and slowly descended the steps. Each step the High Lord took towards him matched the thump of his heartbeat and though Eris was used to it, had gotten used to his father’s mind games and fists, the tiny spark of dread never did go away. 

That tiny spark of dread fluttered in his chest as his father stopped in front of him. 

“Do you think you’re funny, son?” the High Lord asked and Eris only blinked, his expression as neutral as he could make it. 

“I have my moments to shine, Father,” he answered. “But please, let us get to this urgent matter you called me for.”

Beron chuckled dryly, his own hands clasped behind his back. “Impatient, are you?” he said quietly. “Eager to go back to your pretty little wife and leave my company.”

“It is always a privilege to be in your company, High Lord.”

Beron’s smile didn’t reach his eyes and he began to pace around Eris. “High Lord.” he repeated. “I am your High Lord, isn’t that right?”

Eris didn’t let his eyes leave his father, knowing he was trying to unnerve him. “Yes.”

“And you respect your High Lord, yes?”

“Of course.”

“Then tell me,” Beron began and paused with his back to his son. “Why do you find it so easy to embarrass me?”

And there it was. Eris thought to himself. Of course, his father would spin Bertillon’s disrespect this way. He smothered down his annoyance and resisted the strong urge to send every inch of his flame to tear his father to shreds. It would be so easy. He had been so pent up lately, even with this morning and ripping into Aron, it had barely done much. He was too on edge. So he’d dance this little dance with his father until they got to the end. He opted for a confused tone as he asked, “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Father. I would never knowingly do that.”

Another dry chuckle left his Father’s lips and he turned to face Eris. “You say that and yet…How do you think it looks when my associate, who is your father-in-law, is found barely breathing and broken in so many places he is barely recognizable?” Beron said and the softness with which he spoke made the hair on the back of Eris’s neck rise. “How do you think I felt when I was asked about it and had no idea what to say?”

He would gladly flay Bertillon’s skin over and over again until nothing was left. He wouldn’t even hesitate. Instead, Eris breathed through his nose once more, trying not to let his nostrils flare, giving his father a thin smile. 

“Is that what all this is about?” he said and forced a chuckle. “You told me to give him a warm welcome. I only followed your suggestion, Father.”

Beron’s eyes narrowed and Eris braced himself, waiting for the blow to come for his tone. A heartbeat passed in silence before Beron tsked and shook his head.

“You must not have heard about the whispers filling the halls.”

“I don’t listen for mindless chatter, Father.” 

“I see.” Beron said and the High Lord watched his son for a moment before adding, “And you think what you did was acceptable?”

Eris raised a brow. “And what exactly is it that I did that would be deemed unacceptable?”

“You tell me.”

Eris couldn’t help the way his face pinched in disdain. “Your associate overstepped his boundaries with me,” Eris said flatly. “And as you know, I do not take that lightly.”

“Hmm.” was all his father said and continued to watch him. It was a moment before he waved a hand and said, “And you think the way you left him was…appropriate?”

Eris knew his gaze had hardened as he stared at his father but his mind had again gone back to the panic and fear Iris had felt. To the bruises that had appeared on her lovely skin. To the slight hesitation she had felt going back into their rooms after their outing. 

The fact that Eris had left him alive was the only inappropriate thing about this. He would’ve cut off each of his fingers slowly and made Aron wear them as a pretty necklace. Then he would’ve sliced off both his arms. Burned him from the inside out. Eris had many ideas on what he could do differently had he been given free rein over his father-in-law but Iris had stopped him. He would leave that particular kill for his wife. 

Eris flicked an invisible piece of lint off his jacket and finally said to his father. “That piece of shit walked into my space, a space he did not have permission to be in, and put his hands on my wife. My wife. For no other reason than because he wanted to and you find my reaction to this unacceptable?” he said sharply. “Other than the fact that she is now a princess of this court who outranks him in every way, he is too bold and too comfortable with his own stupidity and that is a problem for me. A problem I will have no issues eradicating should he continue to overstep with what belongs to me.”  His expression shifted to disdain. “The only reason he’s still breathing is that I didn’t want the blood to ruin my carpet.” 

“Is that right?”

Eris tensed and met his father’s gaze again. “Yes. That is right,” he said tightly and then furrowed his brows. “Forgive me, Father, but I am having trouble understanding why this trivial thing is being brought to your attention. Surely a business associate is less important than your daughter-in-law?”

Beron scowled at his son. “The only reason she is my daughter-in-law is because of her father.”

Eris ran his tongue over his teeth to prevent himself from lashing out. After a breath, he continued, “What exactly does he do for you, father? That he gets such leeway? Such attention from you?” Eris asked with a raised brow. “Other than stealing from our coffers, I don’t see what exactly he does to deserve a single question.”

“He doesn’t steal. I pay him.” Beron snapped and Eris resisted the deep urge to roll his eyes. “And he delivers.”

“You mean those backend deals done in the dark? The smuggled goods you could get with a proper trading deal if you’d let me negotiate with the Day Court?”

“I will not enter any trade deals with that pompous filthy piece of shit who plays at High Lord.” Beron snarled and Eris tensed. “This business agreement doesn’t include you, boy. You got your little wife out of this arrangement. Mind your business and focus on what you did.” 

“How can I mind my business when our lack of trade deals tightens supplies for everyone around the court?” he said. “We can do better than this piece of shit. Let me —”

A wall of fire slammed into Eris so fast that he barely had a moment to protect himself, staggering back a few steps. Slowly Eris looked up at his father in disbelief.

“You would hurt me for that lowlife?”

“I hurt you for the disrespect you’re showing me.” Beron snapped and stepped closer to his son. “I hurt you for the same reason I’ve had to beat some sense into you in the past — because you refuse to obey and have the nerve to challenge me.”

Eris could only stare at his father. The male he had once admired and loved so, so long ago. Someone he had wanted to make proud. Someone he had cared about. Until the monster had come out in full force. And yes, there had been moments with Mor and Jesminda and his own mother when the monster had made an appearance, when the dark side of his father had found an outlet for release…but it wasn’t until the nightmare that was Under the Mountain that had warped his father to the point of no return. Until the nightmare of Under the Mountain became the nightmare of their jeweled forest. Until their own court had become a court of nightmares and Beron thrived on spite, cruelty, and rage.

Eris let out a humorless laugh then nodded. “Of course, Father. My apologies for ensuing your wrath,” he said and placed a hand over his heart. “What can I do to amend my mistake?”

Beron backhanded him and though Eris had anticipated this blow, had let it happen, the sting didn’t hurt any less. But the sooner his Father smacked him, the sooner this would be over. 

“Apologize.” 

Eris nodded, running his tongue over his teeth once more and letting the sting of the blow remind him why, when the time came, he would let his father die a brutal death and feel no remorse.

“Of course, Father. My apologies to you,” he said. “The next time I decide to beat the shit out of someone, I’ll be sure to notify you immediately.”

His father’s hand wrapped around his throat and he yanked Eris closer to him. “You watch that tone, boy.” Beron seethed. “Ever since that fucken wife of yours came into your life, you suddenly think you’re above the way I treat you. You think being married means something.”

“Should I be following your example of what a marriage is supposed to look like, Father?” Eris said tightly and Beron squeezed. “You seem to enjoy being a husband.”

“Keep this up, your wife won’t have a husband much longer.”

“Your threats are noted, High Lord.” 

Beron glared at Eris and with a noise of disgust shoved him away. His father turned away from him, facing the throne and Eris took the moment to glare at his back openly. He straightened his jacket and brushed back his hair fighting the urge to snap his father’s neck. He noted the slight trembling in his hands and clenched his fists so hard, that Eris was surprised he hadn’t snapped his own bones. His anger was building and if he didn’t get an outlet, he was going to burst. But he kept his eyes on his father’s back and neutralized his expression, even if he was moments away from sliding his sword into his spine.

He waited again, the only sound that Eris could hear was the pounding of his own blood, anticipating what his father would say or do next. He almost wanted the beating to start so he could get it over with but had to remind himself over and over and over again that with his father, he had to pick and choose his battles. He had to be mindful of how much he pushed because Beron would not hesitate to hurt anyone he cared about. His mother especially. Beron delighted in making sure his sons knew whenever he laid a hand on her. 

They needed to get her out. 

The thought had barely left his mind when Beron finally turned to face his son again.

“You disappoint me.” 

Eris said nothing. If anyone had any right to be disappointed, it was him. Disappointment for all that could’ve been. Disappointment for the life they’d had to lead when it didn’t have to be that way. 

“Would you like me to apologize for that as well, Father?” Eris asked and desperately tried to rein in the sneer he knew his father had heard anyway.

The High Lord merely looked at him with a snort then waved his hand towards the side doors of the throne room. “No. I think I’ll correct that behavior in other ways.” he said. “But before I do that, you have one more apology to make.”

Eris’s brows furrowed in confusion as he glanced at his father who only gave him a cruel smile.  He warily shifted his gaze to where Beron had pointed and immediately froze as rage scorched his body. He forced himself to breathe slowly and keep his hands behind his back. He stared, knowing that the male whose death was already carved out in stone could sense every threat Eris sent his way. 

Lord Aron had made his way into the room and Eris fought back every demon, and prayed to any of the gods listening to help him maintain control. A small sense of satisfaction broke through the rage and coursed through him at the way Aron limped his way towards them but rage — his rage would always win at the mere sight of him. He narrowed his eyes at his father-in-law, who stumbled at the sight of Eris. The Lord had the decency to pale beneath his mountain of bruises. 

“You healed quicker than I thought.” Eris allowed himself to say. “It seems I was too kind to you, Bertillon.”

Despite the fear coming off him in waves, his father-in-law still managed to glare at him. “You call this kind?” he wheezed. “I was lucky your father found me sooner than later and sent healers my way.”

“Lucky,” Eris said with a snort. “Or a waste of time because the chances of you leaving my sight with functioning legs are very slim.”

Aron paled further and looked to Beron. “I — I thought it would only be my daughter here, High Lord.” Aron stuttered.  “My daughter apologizing on her knees would be enough. I don’t expect the prince to grant me any form of respect after this morning.”

Eris let out a harsh laugh and then turned to his father. “My wife will be apologizing to no one, much less this piece of shit.” he snarled.  

Eris turned back to his father-in-law and the savage rage he had felt breaking his bones was resurfacing as the room had heated again. “I thought I made myself very clear about your involvement with your daughter. The moment she became my wife, she was no longer your problem.” And without so much as a blink, Eris’s fire shot out to gag his father-in-law, then bring him forcefully to his knees. “I don’t want to hear you speak while I’m in the room. You are barely given permission to breathe while I’m in the room. I warned you only earlier today and you are still saying the wrong things in front of me.”

His cold gaze met Aron’s widened ones. “It seems you didn’t learn your lesson the first time.” he said softly and then glanced back at his father. “I’m going to break his legs, Father.”

Beron ignored the noise of outrage that Aron choked out and narrowed his eyes to his son. Eris simply glanced back. Of all the things he thought his father would drag him in here for, reprimanding him for this vermin was not one of them. But Eris would be damned if he let Bertillon get away with any of it.

He knew he never mattered to his father. None of them really did. But to bring someone else into the mix, to witness what happened between them was new. 

Father and son looked at one another in the thick silence, the tension suffocating. 

“Now now, son,” Beron began in a placating tone that had Eris sneering. “He is family after all. We need to behave better than that.”

Eris snorted at the irony of his father’s words. “My family is a very limited amount of people and this fucker is not one of them.” he snapped and turned to glance in his disgust at Aron. “He is nothing and no one.”

“Eris.” Beron snapped and he slowly turned to look at his father. “You will release him and then you will apologize for your brutish behavior.” 

A humorless laugh slipped from Eris’s lips before he could stop it and without leaving his father’s gaze, his magic shot out and snapped Aron’s right leg at the knee. He smiled at the howl of pain and the sound of his body falling back.

Beron scowled. “That’s not what I asked you to do.”

Eris shrugged with as much nonchalant air as he could muster through his anger. “It’s what I heard.”

With that statement, it seemed that Beron had reached his limit with his son. The High Lord’s face darkened and he pointed one finger at his son. “You will apologize to your father-in-law now.”

Eris couldn’t help the cold smile on his lips, couldn’t help how he’d loosened the damper on his magic and rolled his neck back, then met his father’s gaze. “Apologize? Of course. You’re right, Father.” he said and Eris knew his control was slipping, his tone a little unhinged, a little guttural. “I will gladly apologize.” 

Before his father could stop him, Eris stalked over to Aron still semi-broken on the floor, every step had flames licking at his heels. His father-in-law let out a muffled cry of pain as Eris’s magic shot out again, breaking his other leg at the knee. Yanking him by his hair, Eris crouched and leaned towards Aron.

“This seems familiar, doesn’t it.” he said softly and savage satisfaction coursed through him at the sight of Aron’s face. “I warned you earlier, didn’t I? I did. Yet here you are, still stupid and still saying the wrong things.” 

Eris shoved his head back and then gripped him by the neck. “Your earlier bruises have barely begun to heal and you seem to itch for more of them.” Squeezing tight, fire blazing in his eyes, he leaned close enough to see the white of Aron’s eyes. “To quote what you said to my wife earlier, I can say the words all you want but I will never mean them.” Eris seethed and slammed a fist of fire into Aron’s face. “I am only sorry that I left you alive. I am only sorry that I didn’t leave you in pieces and feed you to my hounds…but then again, they would never eat something as disgusting as you. You’d be too vile for even the likes of the Attor.” 

Lord Aron made a choked noise that had Eris chuckling darkly. He knew his father was still in the room but he barely heard a word with the ringing in his ears, the pumping of his blood. He wouldn’t let Iris near any of them, would never let anyone dream of demeaning his wife. He crouched closer and spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “I told you, you may be in the High Lord’s pocket but not in mine. Test me again, Bertillon, I dare you.” 

Pulling back only slightly, Eris’s grip tightened around Aron’s neck once more. “Is that a good enough apology for you, Bertillon? Please tell me so my father here can be satisfied.”

Aron gave a vague resemblance to a nod, barely conscious. Turning slightly and dragging Bertillon with him by the throat, Eris smiled darkly at his father. “You see? My father-in-law- forgives me.” he said sweetly and then glanced down at Aron again, lowering his voice once more to add, “Your death day has already been marked. Tread lightly.”

Letting him drop unceremoniously to the floor, Eris slowly stood and dusted off his hands. He forced himself to take a silent breath, roll back his shoulders, and let some of the tension in his body go before he could face his father once more. That Beron had allowed Eris to go this far only meant that he was going to pay and pay dearly. He straightened his jacket and finally glanced at his father. “I assume we’re finished with this situation here?”

Beron slowly glanced at Aron’s slumped body, at the blood smeared on the ground, and then back at Eris. “You disobey me so openly.”

Eris shook his head, anger once more coursing through his body. Everything about his fucken father was always about him. He gave the High Lord a cold smile. “It was you who taught me that we don’t apologize to anyone. I am merely what you made me, Father.”

A pregnant silence filled the room and Eris forced himself again to calm down. His own power was one card he kept close to his chest and it would do him no favors to unleash himself now. He would need it for a later time.

“I could have your wife dragged in here and force her to her knees until both of you do as I ordered.” Beron mused. 

Eris shook his head and let his gaze fall to his father-in-law yet again, half dead on the floor. Too many people were too obsessed with his wife. It would only get worse when they knew she was his mate. 

His mate. That his father kept threatening. 

Eris hid the slight tremor of his hands by clasping them behind his back once again. “You could do that, Father. But this day would end very, very badly for everyone involved.” 

“Is that a threat, boy?”

This little dance they did had never gotten this far. Eris had rarely defied Beron but to do it in front of someone else changed the game. Made it more dangerous. Their interactions had rarely ever been about anything else but humiliation and power and while he had shown his cards in other conversations…today was different. Today, Eris knew he had crossed a line. 

So he shrugged, willing as always, to take the brunt of his father’s wrath. “It is a fact, Father.”

Beron watched Eris and uncomfortable silence washed over them, making Eris tense, bracing himself as his chest tightened. 

“You see, this is what I was afraid of,” Beron said in a voice that promised the violence Eris had been anticipating and he straightened. “Not only do you play your games but you’ve made the mistake of getting attached to your wife.” 

Eris barely held back a snarl and instead, forced himself to take a deep breath and then dust off his jacket. This was getting fucken ridiculous. “If that will be all,” he said through clenched teeth. “I will be retiring for the night.”

But Eris had barely moved a step when his father’s magic lashed out, halting him in place. Another breath had him forced to his knees. “You will leave when I allow you to leave,” Beron said and it was the voice of the High Lord, the one that terrified his people into submission, the voice that haunted Eris’s dreams on the dark nights. 

He was locked in place by his father’s magic, his arms stuck to his sides with his back to his father and it was a position that had that flutter of dread flare to life in his chest. He couldn’t turn his head and had to swallow against the footsteps of his father coming closer. 

“You dare speak to me the way you do. You dare disobey and challenge me, especially in front of another.” the High Lord’s voice carried. “All for who? Your wife?”

Beron finally stopped right behind his son and Eris knew the yank was coming as Beron nearly snapped his neck, pulling his head back. He fought back every instinct in him not to flinch as his father’s hand tightened in his hair. 

“I thought I taught you not to be controlled by a pretty cunt.” he continued and Eris fought back his snarl as he glared up at his father. “I thought I made it clear that if I find your wife to be distracting you or that you weren’t controlling her, she would be easily replaceable.”

Beron shoved Eris’s head, letting go and Eris closed his eyes for a moment. A dangerous move with his father standing so close but he could already feel the room heating, was already choking back on his magic that wanted to rip from his throat and kill the male in front of him. He would kill and kill and kill. He would fill this hall with blood if he didn’t get it under control. After a breath, Eris swallowed his anger and opened his mouth to answer but his response died in his throat when he saw his father’s sentries drag his father-in-law out and bring in something he hadn’t seen in a while. 

His father usually used his fists or his magic. His words could cut as easily as his blade when he was lashing out. But this…his father saved this for special occasions and Eris knew as his heart started thundering in his chest, that his father might leave his wife alone but he sure as fuck would make Eris pay for it.

His mouth went dry as the sentries placed the flogging pole in the middle of the throne room and began setting it in place, only a mere foot away from him. 

“What do you think son? Should I bring your little Iris here? Tie her up. Break her a little.” Beron mused and Eris’s heart stuttered in his chest, the fire in his veins turned to ice.

“I hardly think that’s necessary.” he said tightly. 

Beron’s chuckle made gooseflesh erupt on Eris’s skin and he tilted his head to give his son a cruel smile. “Her father mentioned something about the two of you earlier. Something seemed off during his visit.” the High Lord mused. “Is your wife not satisfying you, son? Do you need someone to fuck her for you? Break her in a little bit?”

Blind rage flared through Eris’s body and he nearly snapped himself in half trying to break out of the hold his father’s magic had him in. But Beron only laughed at Eris’s wild snarl. 

“You don’t like that?” The High Lord taunted. “It doesn’t have to be me this time, of course. But there is no shortage of males in the Vanserra line who could deal with her if you don’t like her. You do have three brothers.”

“That is enough.” Eris would kill him. He would skin him alive and tear his father apart limb by fucken limb if he so much as looked at his wife. 

Beron gripped Eris’s chin tightly and forced him to meet his gaze. “Her father also happened to mention that he used to leave delicious bruises all over her as well. Do you do that too?” 

Eris’s breath stopped altogether as his father leaned in. “Should I give her some to match yours?” Beron said softly. “Do you think she’d like a different Vanserra hand bruising her alongside a different Vanserra cock?”

“Beron.”

Eris snapped his head as his heart leapt into his throat, his magic going numb at the sight of his mother striding towards them and the Lady of Autumn was seething, steam licking each of her steps.

“Leave him alone.”

“Mother.” 

His mother ignored him as she glared at the High Lord who narrowed his eyes at his wife and Eris knew he would beg like never before. He would plead with everything he had for his mother to leave. He would let his father skin him alive if she’d just walk away from this unscathed. 

“What are you doing here, dear?” Beron asked, his tone so polite it made Eris want to vomit at his feet. “This is a conversation between my son and I.”

“This isn’t a conversation, this is a punishment.” Enya snapped. “One he does not deserve and you should not be giving.”

“Telling me what to do, are you, Lady Enya?” the High Lord asked and Eris felt a slight panic bubbling. He couldn’t stand to watch. He couldn’t see it happening again and again.

“Mother.” Eris called again and she met his gaze. “There is nothing to worry about. Please leave.”

“I will not leave!” she spat. “You plan to hurt your son for what? For what, Beron?”

“Watch that fucken tone, Enya.” Beron snarled. “Your son and his tone have already tested my limits today. Don’t push me or it’ll be you I bring here next.”

“No.” Eris immediately snarled and pulled against his father’s magic, still binding him in place. “Mother, it’s fine — please,  please leave.”

Enya’s eyes snapped to her son and Eris watched her chest rise and fall, her breathing hard and Eris could see the slight steam coming from her fingers now. If she didn’t watch herself, she would unravel, and then Beron would know — he would know what they’d been working on. He’d know she’d been healing and all their work would’ve been for naught. The High Lord would just find new ways to break her.

“Mother.” Eris said more firmly. “It will be fine. Go.”

“It will not be fine.” she seethed and Eris hated the way her bottom lip trembled as she turned back to Beron. “This is not the way. Don’t do this. Leave him be. He has done nothing wrong.”

“You.” Beron sneered and took a step towards hers. “You are the reason he’s so soft and I am sick of it. Leave now and I will deal with you later.”

“Don’t you —” Enya began and stumbled back a step with a small gasp as Beron backhanded her and Eris felt himself leave his body as she turned to glare at the High Lord. “How dare you.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Beron snapped. “Get the fuck out of here or I swear to the gods you won’t be able to use your limbs for the next week.” 

“Mother, look at me.” Eris nearly screamed then demanded again, “Look at me.”

And Eris wanted to die at the sight of all the rage and all the frustration in her eyes as she looked at him. He wanted to throw up at the red blotches marring her cheek. 

“I will be fine. Father and I are just having a conversation,” he said calmly. “Then it will be over and things will be perfectly normal tomorrow morning.”

“Eris —”

“Mother.” he cut her off, desperate for her to leave before Beron changed his mind and tied her up here anyway. “Please do as Father says. Goodnight.”

Enya’s chest continued to rise and fall as she took a breath, looking at her son and Eris wished he could have killed his father years ago, just to avoid the hurt in her expression. She turned back to her husband and though hatred shined so clearly on her face, she swallowed and said the one word Eris hated to hear from her, “Please.”

“Don’t.” Eris almost begged but Enya stepped closer to her husband.

“Please don’t do this.” 

Beron merely stared at his wife with disdain and then scoffed. “You can beg me later. After you apologize properly,” he said then waved her away with a sneer. “Get out.”

Revulsion marred the beautiful face of Lady Enya as her mouth trembled and with fisted hands, she spat at the High Lord’s feet. “You disgust me.” she whispered venomously.

The High Lord glanced down then smiled coldly at his wife. “You will pay for that.”

“I already did.” she said and glanced once more at her son. “I have never stopped paying for it but I will not leave.”

Eris swallowed and he wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole. He wished and wished but could do nothing else as his father stalked over to his mother and yanked her by the throat.

“Father —”

But Beron’s flame wrapped around his mouth and gagged him. He could only watch in horror as whatever his father was saying into his mother’s ear, too low for him to hear, had her face pale. He could only watch his parents stare at each other and rage silently until Beron shoved his mother away from him and said once more, 

“Get out.”

His mother shot Beron one last look of disgust before she turned to Eris, her mouth once again trembling in rage but she straightened. “I’m sorry.” she said gently. “I’m so sorry.”

Eris shook his head as he watched her reluctantly leave. She would never have anything to be sorry for. He would never blame her. She had stayed for them and endured for them and he would never let her apologize for anything his monster of a father did.

His father finally waved a hand and Eris let out a breath. 

“That was unnecessary, Father. You didn’t —” 

But Beron’s magic slammed into Eris once more, choking him as Beron watched him with dead eyes. 

“You once told me what happens between you and your wife is your business.” Beron said too calmly. “The same applies to my wife and I. Don’t worry about your mother. We’ll only have a nice chat before bed.” 

“Father —” Eris wheezed but Beron cut him once more, the High Lord’s magic closing off his airway. 

“No more words from you.” Beron said and with a wave of his hand, dragged Eris across the floor to the flogging pole. “It’s been a while. You seem to have forgotten yourself, son. So let me remind you why I am your High Lord and you do as I say regardless of how you feel about it.” 

His father leaned in close as Eris’s arms were forced up and he couldn’t help the hate in his eyes as the High Lord smiled down at him. “Now…let’s give you a whole new look, shall we?”  Beron said softly. “We’ll see what your pretty wife thinks of you then.”

[atombombkaytee]

My Echo, My Shadow and Me

Summary: Hancock and I retire to The Third Rail after a long day to find that it’s particularly busy. Still, we manage to find a quiet spot to indulge in heavy flirting, booze and chems. However, I notice a shadowy figure across the room - somehow, neither Hancock or I recognise the stranger (another ghoul). Hancock is keen to introduce himself but the sheer amount of intoxicants we’ve consumed could have the potential to lead to a very interesting evening.

Pairings: Hancock x Female OC/Reader, Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Female OC/Reader

Warnings: (This first part is largely PG but we will see - in future parts - all of the following) Heavy alcohol/drug use, public groping, smut, MMF threesome, anal.

Part 1.

Occasionally, The Third Rail became so lively that you could easily delude yourself into believing that the bombs had never plummeted from the skies all those years ago. It is only when you're completely sober that you can discern that virtually every person in the vicinity disfigured by the enduring effects of radiation.

Nevertheless, the bustling crowds of sweaty bodies (dancing, laughing, and clinking their glasses without a care in the world) were surely reminiscent of what it was like pre-war. I couldn’t be sure. I was born into this shithole of a world. What would I know about living pre-bombs?  

I grunt a sarcastic chuckle into my pint glass, fogging the edges with my breath. I'm sure it was warmer in pre-war bars than it is here. Being underground in an old railway tunnel helps retain some heat, but there's a subtle yet constant breeze coming from somewhere.

Still, the alcohol helps. As do the masses of bodies. Alcohol helps with a lot of things. Even now, many still use it as a respite from the horrors of daily life. A beautiful dissociative escape, where the only thing that matters is the moment.

Unfortunately, I'm the only sober one tonight. Well, almost. I’ve managed to get one mixer deep, tucked in tight against the bar, waiting for Hancock to join me for a celebration. Today ended much later than we anticipated when a large group of Supermutants seeking revolution entered Boston Common. We dealt with them, of course, but it significantly cut into our relaxation time - something both Hancock and I equally hated. 

The dancing crowd swells behind me, swaying in time to Magnolia’s silky voice. Occasionally, someone brushes against my back. I'm desperate to feel more drunk. I tend to get irritable far more quickly when I'm sober, much like Hancock... maybe that's one of the reasons we've always gotten along. Feeling overstimulated, I swill back the ends of my glass and signal Charlie for another.

Lucky for me, no human could possibly serve booze as fast as that robot. It’s mere seconds before another full pint glass is in my hand and I greedily neck it back. I smile to myself, sensing the warmth in my belly spread into a pleasant haziness behind my eyes. These quadruple shots are certainly doing the trick.

An immense wave of gratitude washes over me as I perceive a hand between my shoulder blades. It unmistakably belongs to someone familiar, amidst the numerous inebriated strangers who have been using me as a prop for the last thirty minutes.

“Hey, dollface… how you holding up?”

He angles his head downwards, drawing himself nearer to me, enabling me to still take in his words amongst the competing sounds of music. In response, I offer a smile, albeit tinged with irony, and he promptly detects the subtle distress reflected in my eyes.

“Oh… well, why the hell are you sitting up here then?”  

With a light-hearted chuckle, he shifts his focus from me to locate Charlie. His hand instinctively wraps around the nape of my neck and delivers a playful squeeze, firm enough to hurt, yet, ultimately, conveying a sense of comfort and protection.

“Charlie - do this ol’ ghoul a favor and hand me that great, big bottle of whiskey - oh - and two glasses, if you’d be so kind?”

I can't help but watch him adoringly as he swoops in to solve all of my problems, like always. I've only spent a little over four months working alongside him, but I'm pretty sure that I'm falling for him. He's courageous yet gentle, sweet yet just, violent yet empathetic. I've come to realize that he's a very intricate person... well, ghoul. And, boy, does he know how to make me feel good.

Ignoring our rather large age gap - human/ghoul relationships aren’t uncommon in the wasteland, although they are generally disapproved of in most settlements. Except here. Here, in Goodneighbor, things are different. Here, Hancock and I can openly celebrate our relationship and relax in public without any judgment. As the Mayor, Hancock receives special privileges that he graciously extends to me. Moreover, the majority of the residents in Goodneighbor are ghouls themselves, and those who are human are generally open-minded outcasts who have found a welcoming home here. It's an ideal situation.

“Follow me…” He murmurs intimately next to my ear. With his palm placed reassuringly on the small of my back, he guides me smoothly through the mass of people - most of whom acknowledge their mayor with a rowdy toast of their glasses.

Once we’re out of the thickest part of the crowd, he grabs hold of my hand and leads me to a dimly lit table for two at the very back of the room. Both the noise level and the number of people are much more bearable here. I plonk myself down on the torn couch - enjoying the coolness of the leather seat against the back of my tired thighs.

“Jesus… thanks for rescuing me, yet again…” I snigger, holding my glass in place while Hancock pours a generous serving of whiskey. The liquid fills the vessel with a rich, golden hue.

“Why the hell is it so busy in here tonight!?”

Hancock puts the whiskey bottle back on the metal table between us with a thud, causing several small white flecks of paint to flutter to the ground. He leans back comfortably against the sofa, draping his spare arm around my shoulder while he surveys the room.

“You tell me, sunshine! Could be since we cleared up those raider gangs last week? Could just be a few more people traveling through.”  

His black eyes glisten and gleam like polished onyx under the sporadic beams of the spotlights that intermittently flash across his face. The aura of pride he exudes is palpable, adding even more charm to his demeanor. Seeking refuge in his presence, I nuzzle closer to the comforting warmth emanating from his body, finding solace as I press my cheek against his faded scarlet duster coat. Meanwhile, I continue to take measured sips from my glass of whiskey, relishing its smooth taste.

The mist brought on by alcohol is steadily encroaching upon my senses. I have firm intentions of becoming extremely drunk, and with Hancock already pouring himself another drink, it seems obvious that he shares that inclination.

(Part 2)

(Part 3)

[bonebrokebuddy]

I am shocked and appalled that there isn’t more comic flash & comic spider man fic crossovers.

Like? Barry and Peter would get along so well?? And no one has taken advantage of this??

I need a fic pronto of them meeting at a biochem conference, a villain attacking, leading to Barry catching Peter changing into his Spider-Man suit in the bathroom in a classic silver age crossover “the heroes immediately figure out eachother’s identity” type fashion. They team up and take down the villain together and promise to keep in touch.

[enavstars]

Some characters in the Cyberpunk au (part 1)

I tried to make Echo and Zane more robot-like since robots are pretty much treated like people regardless of their appereance. And Garmadon's design is from when the rgb are kids so he's younger (he's not an Oni in this au).

Characters details from within the story:

Echo

Echo is created by a younger Julien (like in his 30s) as a test run for his project to build himself an assistant to deal with his chronic disease, which, despite not being deadly per se, it could still leave him impaired in the long run and therefore he needed some sort of safe net just in case.

But sadly, the prototype's AI ends up being deficient for his purpose as he is not able to process neither human emotions nor their needs, so after much deliberation, Julien decides to set him free rather than letting him collect dust in his storage.

However, Echo could not fit into the city's human society either, as people would not accept his strange speech nor behavior. This eventually culminated in an assault by one of the problematic gangs that sprouted up after the crisis, where they thrashed the helpless robot relentlessly and even managed to damage his voice module. He then was trashed out to the Outside, and from there, mauled and hopeless, he wandered aimlessly and without a purpose in life for a long time.

But at one point through his senseless journey, he stumbled upon a couple of abandoned kids crying in the middle of the woods. Even though he did not understand what their tears meant, he was curious, so from then on he started acting as their guardian.

Thanks to them, slowly but surely he began to learn about human emotions and, as he could only do little beeps to communicate, he also figured out a way to communicate without words. Although sometimes he was still lacking as a caregiver, he worked hard to develop the necessary skills to look after their (newly discovered) basic human needs, like fishing and hunting. He even takes a third kid in after Kai and Nya find another lost boy in the woods and convince him to keep him.

As they grow, he also begins to teach them how to be self-sufficient, because he is painfully aware that he would never be capable of being a better parent due to his poor programming. It is in this context when, years later when Echo finds a potential job opportunity as the ferryman to the city, the RGB urge him to take the chance, knowing that he wants to work to feel more useful and wanting to have more solo adventures.

Even though he was reluctant to leave them behind, he is now the happiest he's ever been and still looks after his children whenever they need him (even going so far as to risk his job) out of his gratitude for granting him another chance in his doomed life.

Ronin

Currently retired, he used to be a renowned mercenary and bounty hunter in his youth. However, he gradually gained more and more enemies and got himself into more and more dangerous trouble (which is why he’s a full cyborg now), until eventually, battered and grown past the age of peak physical strength, he decided to quit to save his ass.

From then on, he started looking after the demon children around the most miserable parts of their struggling segregated neighborhood in exchange for minor treasure hunts; this is why he is now protected from his remaining enemies, as many of them grew up to become members of some of the local gangs (also as an added bonus Garmadon is a pretty ominous legend and people are kind of afraid of hurting demons because of him, but more on that later).

Although he lives rather isolated from the rest of society because of his (extensive) criminal record, he still manages to make ends meet with the treasures he got from all his exploits and the profits of the little side quests he tasks the children in exchange for his care.

No he’s not charity, he’s a wine uncle, but he is an asshole to everyone (especially humans) except the kids. In fact, even though he does not give out help for free, he always ends up rewarding them with his teachings and advice and about life on top of the food and shelter, so almost every child he's taken under his wing ends up becoming pretty competent to face the harsh society they live in.

And in particular, he grows to like the RGB a lot because he recognizes their wit and appreciates how cunning they can be, sometimes even negotiating with him and being capable enough to uno reverse his little tricks on the kids like they are equals (for example, Nya stealing her brother’s bionic eye blueprints to avoid being totally dependant on Ronin for maintenance).

In fact, later on when Nya introduces him to Jay (a human) to be his apprentice as a mechanic, she somehow convinces him despite his hate for his kind.

Bonus: when he meets Jay at first he’s irritated at him because he takes his fear and shyness as racism, but the kid is just intimidated by the sassy cyborg (don't worry, eventually he figures it out and the child grows on him, Jay is too cute).

(I will talk about Jay in my next post dw)

Zane (24NE)

He’s the successful final product of Julien’s project, a kind and refined assistance nindroid knowledgeable in human care. His role is very important to him, so when his father died he lost all purpose in life and, unable to deal with his grief on top of that existential crisis, he became depressed and stagnant, trapped in his own mind inside his creator’s abandoned home and slowly wasting away due to his mental stress and a lack of maintenance now that nobody could look after him.

And he stayed in that sorry state until the RGB found the house and, upon looting it for supplies, Nya stumbled upon the nindroid lying dormant next to Julien’s bed. When she wakes him up, his rusty voice module is damaged and he can’t speak properly (Julien is shit at making those apparently), so she repairs it as best as she can and as a result, he eventually becomes their friend.

Although they were wary at first, they understood his situation, and in the end they decided to help him by introducing him to Doctor Rashid (an oc) to learn more about biology and medicine.

Speaking of, I’ll talk more about Dr. Rashid in another future post but basically he’s an oc of mine I inserted in this au, a friend of Kai and Nya’s and sort of a parental figure.

Garmadon

He is an elusive red-eyed demon, the rarest of his kind, and a criminal brought to legendary status. Now vanished and rarely ever seen amongst the city shadows, he used to be an undefeatable wandering warrior. He would spread chaos everywhere he went and, along the way, he would mercilessly murder anyone opposed to the Demon’s Rights movement.

However, one day he disappeared suddenly from the face of the earth. But his legacy carries on to this day: he is feared universally, considered an antihero by his followers and a bloodthirsty criminal by the rest.

A few months after his disappearance, though, a human woman named Misako gave birth to a demon child with ominous red eyes. Soon, people started making the connection and his mother, who by that point had developed a deep hatred towards demons, was put under such public scrutiny that she ended up abandoning him on the Outside to leave behind the city and her trauma along with it.

Sadly for Garmadon, it was too late when he finally learned that he had a son. He’d left Misako pregnant without either of them knowing, and after he was gone she had been unable to reach him. For that reason, when he came back to the city years later and at last he found out, in the end he decided to let Lloyd be with his new family, as he he realized he had no right to take him in after being absent the entirety of his short life when he already had the two loving siblings looking after him.

After that, he turned back to his wandering, and he was barely ever seen again.

[shepherds-of-haven]

if the shepherds survive (please survive!) to an older age, how do they feel when they spot their first few gray hairs?

Blade: I think at first he wouldn't register/care about it too much, but then one day his knee would creak more than usual and he'd suddenly be like, "❗️" ...But it'd be a momentary blip, he doesn't care about the appearances part of it at all but the thought of aging to the point of having to retire from active duty is so galling that his brain just goes "no" and he carries on stubbornly as if nothing had happened...

Trouble: he'd go running to MC, like "!! I'm turning into a silver fox... Do you find me more or less attractive now" As long as MC isn't bothered by it, he isn't, either! He'll turn it into a rueful joke and take it with good grace soon enough!

Tallys: not applicable really, I don't think Elves get gray hairs until they're like insanely old, if at all... and at that point, she's past the point of worrying about anything like that 😂

Shery: at first she would just sort of brush it off, but after a few days the existential dread would start to set in, like, "oh my god... am I old?? Is it happening already?? 😭😭" Basically it would be silent panic that no one would ever know about, followed by resigned acceptance, lol

Riel: I'm going to be real, he spotted his first gray hair when he was like 17, so he just doesn't acknowledge it anymore... (outside of plucking the pesky little strand out). It's going to be a bad time when they become so numerous that he can't pluck them out anymore, though! (Not really. I imagine he'll age with indefatigable grace)

Chase: he'll be glib about it! He'd probably point to his first cluster and tell MC: "see these? you did this. this is your fault. if you can't love me because I'm an old geezer now, you have only yourself to blame"

Red: ".....ah." Frankly, he's surprised he didn't get them sooner, considering all of the bullshit he gets put through/does to himself

Ayla: "ugh, wtf?" staring at the end of her braid like it briefly transformed into a snake's head and she's waiting for it to do it again... She'd probably be in a low-key bad mood for a few days without telling anyone why, and then would probably resign herself/accept it once the next big thing to make her forget about it came along!

Briony: wailing, tears, outright screaming: "noooooooooooooooooo!!! 😭😭😭" She'd be quite morose and melodramatic for a day or so and have an aging crisis, melting on the floor like "am I growing old? will I soon be too old to do [x youthful thing]? Will you still love me when I'm a hag?" 🥺🫠

Lavinet: brisk and smiling denial. she didn't see anything, and neither did you. :) a gray hair? on her head? not since the earl of murtaghon's old cat jumped on her shoulder at his birthday party! what do you mean, you see it right there? :) it must be a trick of the light... 🔫 :)

Halek: Hunters don't get gray hair!

[thepixelelf]

Oh Baby, You Part 25 - Completely Surrounded

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You wonder, absently, if hearing the word "dividends" for the fifth time in ten minutes constitutes an emergency signal. Certainly, Jeonghan has heard the word an uncountable amount of times in his years as Mingyu's assistant, but to you, it's nothing rousing.

Choi Seungcheol seems like a nice enough person— well, if you were someone who didn't know he's asked someone out purely to squeeze information out of them. (Which he's doing a terrible job of, by the way, seeing as he's done 90% of the talking since you sat down.) He's good looking, in the guy you'd ask to chop wood for you kind of way (although the three piece suit detracts from that a bit and adds a more you can't afford me aura to his whole thing), plus he offered to buy your drink before he realized you'd already ordered.

But it's just so… awkward. You already know he's not actually interested in you, and you're so tense trying to keep all your secrets under wraps that you can only focus on what not to say rather than what to say.

At least part of what you're going to tell Seungcheol is true. You really do think you're not ready to get back into the dating game. It's not just that you need to keep everyone at arm's length — you're already skirting the rules enough with Vernon and Co. You've also thrown yourself so deep into raising your son that no one has even remotely caught your romantic eye. Or maybe that part of you is broken now. Retired.

You keep telling yourself that you're over Wonwoo and the unfortunate circumstances that tore you apart.

Sometimes it's not a lie.

It's not very nice, you know, to compare Seungcheol to Wonwoo. To think about how you miss the easy way you could always speak to each other; how Wonwoo used to let out these nerdy yet adorable chuckles; how he could make you laugh with just a side eye.

Then again, it's not very nice of Seungcheol to do this to you, either. Both the not-so-subtle interrogation tactic and the stocks talk.

As soon as your phone vibrates with an incoming call, though, you instantly regret wishing for an out.

No news is good news when it comes to babysitting, and a call from Vernon with no precursory text—?

Your heartbeat picks up.

"I'm sorry," you say, completely cutting off whatever Seungcheol was going on about. "I need to take this." Without a second more of hesitation, you bring your phone up to your ear. "Vernon? What's going on?"

He speaks quickly. "Have you talked to Chan?"

"No." You frown, one of your fingers tapping nervously against your leg. "Why?"

"Fuck…"

"Vernon," you repeat. "What is going on?"

"Okay—" Vernon takes a deep breath, and the words flow out of him so fast, you struggle to keep up. "So I had to go pick up my little sister because she found herself in a bad spot so I left Chan with Orion because he's a fully capable human being most of the time except when I picked Sofia up I texted him that I was coming back and he didn't answer at all and didn't pick up the phone when Seungkwan and I tried to call and now I just made it back to your apartment and Chan's car is gone and neither of them are in the room and I don't know what the fuck is—"

"They're gone?" you whisper. Your fingers have wrapped around a napkin, gripping onto it much too tight. Across the table, Seungcheol furrows his thick brows as he observes you, but you can't find it in yourself to keep up any sort of facade right now.

Vernon groans, and you can picture him running a nervous hand through his hair. "I don't know— I don't… wait."

"What?"

"Seungkwan said he might've found Chan's phone GPS location?"

You make a confused noise. "How?"

"I don't know," Vernon says, "but he said they're at the hospital?"

You stand abruptly, the legs of your chair screeching as they scrape against the floor. "The hospital?!"

"I'm gonna head there now." Vernon's starting to sound out of breath, not far off from how you feel despite not moving anywhere. "Do you want me to pick you up? But wait— that café is on the other side of town—"

"You go," you tell him, more concerned with finding Orion and Chan faster than you needing to be the one to find them. "I'll find my own—" You glance outside at the traffic flooding by. "Maybe a bus, or—"

"I'll drive you."

Turning back to Seungcheol, you see nothing in his expression except for concern. Your first thought is that he shouldn't look concerned. He should be smug. An opportunity to see your son in person has fallen right into his lap.

But you're anxious. And scared.

So you take him up on his offer.

You say nothing for the duration of the ride to the hospital, silently stewing over the idiotic choice to bring CEO Choi with you. It wasn't like you had many options, but still…

You ignore all of Jeonghan's frantic texts.

When Seungcheol pulls up in front of the building, you step out of the car so quickly that you almost trip. Before you swing the fancy car door shut, you lean down and give him a genuine smile. This is the perfect opportunity to leave him behind. "Thank you," you say. "For the ride."

The fact that there's a line to the front counter of the emergency room makes your heart clench painfully in your chest, but no sooner do you run up to the queue than you hear your son calling out to you. Frantically, you turn this way and that, until you see Orion sitting, perfectly unharmed, on Wonwoo's lap in the waiting area.

"Orion!" You hurry over to them, your hands immediately cupping Orion's face and brushing through his hair to check for anything amiss. He looks completely fine, as opposed to Wonwoo, whom you refuse to make eye contact with.

His eyes are watering at the edges, and he looks at you like you took his world and crushed it between your evil fingers.

You did, once upon a time.

Gathering Orion in your arms and standing up straight, you press a kiss to his forehead and pat his hair. "You okay, baby?"

He nods, attempting to fit half of his fist in his mouth. You can't help but laugh, relief flooding your veins as it settles in that your son is alright.

Which means…

You look at Wonwoo, despite every cell in your body begging you not to. "What happened?" you ask. "Where's Chan?"

And why are you here? But you don't say that.

Slowly, Wonwoo stands, his eyes never leaving yours. He's trying to read you, his lips pressed in a thin line, his arms limp at his sides as he stands right in front of you.

It's unnerving, and it makes you take half a step backwards.

Wonwoo takes one sideways glance at Orion before his eyes return to yours. "Tell me it's not him," he whispers, voice strained.

You try to brush it off with a breathy laugh. "What? What do you mean?"

This is why you didn't want Wonwoo to see Orion again. You know exactly what he means.

Wonwoo whispers your name like it hurts him to pronounce. It hurts you, too, but you push it all deep, deep down.

"Please," he says. "Please, just… If it was anyone else…"

"Is everything alright?" Seungcheol's voice appears behind you, and you instinctively hug Orion closer, hiding his face against your shoulder. He snuggles up without complaint, completely unaware of the turmoil happening around him.

You break away from Wonwoo's unwavering gaze, only slightly thankful for the reprieve considering the other option is a power-hungry CEO vying for your friend's position in their company.

"When did you—"

"Orion!" Vernon bursts into the waiting room, out of breath and sweating. He jogs right up to you and your son, and he pats his hand on Orion's head. "You okay little buddy?"

Orion shifts in your arms, moving to lift his head and answer, but in your panic, you gently hold him in place. Seungcheol is too close for comfort, and frankly, you don't want Wonwoo seeing Orion's face either.

Wonwoo says your name again, beckoning your attention, just as Seungcheol asks, "What happened?"

Vernon looks between the two men, and pauses on Seungcheol. "Wait, aren't you—?"

"Guys?" Chan emerges from somewhere. You're too disoriented at this point to tell. "What's going on?"

He joins the group, and you can't even chastise him for the dumb shit he did to land you in this situation because your blood is pumping so hard you can hear it in your eardrums. You're completely surrounded, all by people who don't know—

Once again, Wonwoo says your name, but this time he speaks clearly, loud enough for the three other men to go quiet and look at him even though the only one he's looking at is you. He reaches a hand up, and you're frozen in place as he places it gently on your cheek. The touch alone makes you want to cry.

"Tell me," he begs. "Tell me it's not Mingyu."

The silence that fills the space between you is solid and thick. It threatens to drown you.

"I…" You open your mouth, but it's suddenly dry. "I…"

You hear Seungcheol breathe out behind you.

"I have to go."

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[jinchuls]

𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈, 𝐹𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓈𝓉 ₊˚✩

ᡣ𐭩 prince!sakusa x princess!reader

about 𝜗𝜚 the reception is underway and the hall fills with laughter, music and joy—you’re glad someone had found a way to enjoy your wedding

divider by @/cafekitsune

𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

𝓅𝓇𝑒𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓃𝑒𝓍𝓉

Had you not been an unwilling attendee, you may have enjoyed the elegance of the night planned. Gorgeous music played throughout the vast ballroom. The sound of string instruments danced to your ears, blending beautifully with the piano taking control of the movements of everyone brave enough t0 take a partner to the centre of the room. A place you doubted you would visit yourself.

Even though it was a magnificent event, awaited by many, dedicated to you and your husband, you could only stare at it with hopes that time will be in your favour; that the end of the night would come for the night to simply be a blur by the morning. Your mind wanders to when you would finally be able to remove the light corset wrapped around you and climb into bed. But, you’re also hoping the night never ends. There’s part of you that wants to enjoy the reception, and there’s more of you that wants to avoid the first night you’ve expected to share with your husband – a constant worry forced into your mind by your mother.

You know neither of you are anticipating the evening, a night neither of you can truly avoid regardless of your will to be anywhere else. But you know what you need people to believe. When you Halle in the morning, you need your marriage to be among the successful of the royal family. You can’t risk any other result. The voice of your mother rings in your ears. ‘I’m giving you advice because I care, my child. It is now your turn to make me proud.”

Hidden within the music, you can near the clinking of flatware on plates as people stand by the grand displays of food, happily talking and laughing whilst you, under order of your mother, stay at the side of the room theoretically waiting for the moment Sakusa asks you to dance—an unlikely outcome.

Yet, you do as she expects. You stand. You wait. And your mother’s voice comes to mind again; this time the memory of her persistent comments uttered before you were able to even attend your own reception. “Do not even think of approaching the food table.” You had questioned why but quickly regretted so, her reasoning was as you had expected. There was no need to hear them allowed. “Why? You must look your best and the food the Queen has suggested,” she scowls at the thought, “it may be your favourite,” another unimpressed expression crosses her face, “but it is messy, my dear, I won’t allow it. And the drink! You can’t so much as hold a glass. You must be a perfect example tomorrow.”

The memory, now at the front of your mind, sends you spiralling into thoughts of now dreadful, how constricting, how disappointing this day has truly been; yay simply want it to end.

Though, the universe is not on your side as you watch your mother approach you with a smile painted on her face, so artificially proud. It’s horrendous to see. She’s quick to take you by the arm and pull you out of earshot of the overly curious nobles. You know her intention but knowledge does not retire your desire to be elsewhere.

“Are you prepared for this evening?" she questions, taking your hand and shining her bright smile your way. You try not to let her notice the frown that falls on your lips.

You know she’s not clueless on now you feel, on what this entire day had once meant to you. She knew how much you had once been dreaming of this day and exactly how distraught you had felt finding out just now little your husband seemed to care about you. She knew your concerns; witnessed your heartbreak and, yet, still believed the two of you were some sort of destiny.

She simply chose to ignore the royal tragedy unfolding.

“My dear, are you listening to me?” her tone changes as she realises you’re drifting from the conversation she is leading, and you quickly come back to reality- regardless of your emotions today, it is not worth an excuse for your mother to berate you.

You nod your head, urging her to continue except, this time, you’re listening. She adjusts the neckline of your dress as she speaks, another grimace crossing her for just a second. But that second is enough to make you feel small. “You must remember, you are now a member of the royal family. There is no longer any room for your embarrassing behaviour.” Her words, her voice. She has no care for how much they hurt you; you’re given no time to respond -to tell her now much you lowly despise her and the woman she has forced you to become. Had she looked at you for a moment, she would have seen the harshness in your expression. It’s clear she would have thought nothing of it.

“Mother—“ you signh, gently moving her hands away from your dress. You could – should – have stiffened your tone. A simple warning from the Princess to the duchess – as though that held any importance to the woman. She was still your mother after all.

“You’re a princess now, and a princess has a role to fill. You mustn’t disappoint him tonight, the sooner an heir is conceived the better, is it not?” she speaks as though her actions are not now toward a member of the royal family. As if she inhabited a role more important than her own.

“Mother!” You almost raise your voice, stopping at the last second as you stare at her with wide eyes. You’re amazed at her confidence in saying such a thing in the middle of the ballroom; you’re certain there’s no one within earshot but you fear someone will hear your improper conversation–ruining the reputation your mother places on such a high pedestal.

“There are certain duties a woman has to complete,” she continues, ignoring your worried expression and attempts to stop her, “and you’re not truly a wife until the marriage has been consummat–”

“I understand, mother.” You interrupt her and she finally stops, although she looks less than pleased at the manner in which you’ve ended the conversation. You ignore her once more; forcing all thoughts of sharing the night with Sakusa from your mind. Excusing yourself from her silence, you make your way back to the lively event mere feet away from you and silently pray you will hear no move of a princess' ‘expectations' for as long as the music fills the hall.

You keep your head high as you search for familiarity; you don’t want to seem lonely at your own wedding and you can hear your mother’s voice in the back of your mind reminding you of the appearance you’ve been trained to exhibit. How you hate the sound of that voice.

The familiarity comes in forms you don’t wish to entertain: family members that likely share the same thoughts as your mother (and lack her same decency), the young women your age who, shockingly, don’t understand the lack of love in your marriage- they wish to hear endless stories of how romantic the crown prince could be. How naïve.

There’s Komori—and he’s certainly not the person you shall ever seek in times of comfort. Sakura himself stands among a small group of men you do not recognise but your eyes glide past him effortlessly.

You’re certain he’s not so much as looked at you since your vows had been exchanged. Why should you offer him such courtesy?

The one person you wish to see is elsewhere, likely sent away by your mother to perform a job that is not her responsibility. Kiyoko’s kind eyes, her soft smile, that would be your only peace for the night, that still seemed years away from an end.

There is not a single person attending that is there for you. The realisation swells in your mind until you feel as though you are suffocating. It’s unbearable. You had been expecting this very outcome but it does not soothe the excruciating ache of your chest.

Hastily, you leave the ballroom desperately searching for somewhere—anywhere—that gives you a chance to breathe. Your escape goes unnoticed by everyone except the guards at the door. You suppose your marriage does come with some perks—they were not to question the action of the princess they now serve.

There’s a brief moment you can relax as the doors close behind you. You know you’re safe, monitored closely by the royal guards that won’t let anyone besides your people approach, with the exception of those trusted by Sakusa himself. Though any of him men are unlikely to care about the well-being of his wife. You could finally be alone.

Eventually, you find yourself on one of the many balconies of the palace, breathing in the fresh air and taking in the view of the verse garden as The Sun was beginning to set. It’s as beautiful as you remember.The solitude it brings, the peace, the comfort, the sanctuary_ it’s a small bliss that makes you believe living in the palace-with sukusa – won’t be impossible.

Compared to the warmth of the ballroom, the chill air forces goosebumps to rise on your skin but you don’t mind the icy wind, it’s a pleasurable contrast to the hell that has been your day. The few minutes you had alone, in silence, shivering are the happiest you’ve been all day. If only for a moment, everything feels infinitely better.

The quiet hum of the music reaches your ears; a reminder that you one of no true importance in the solely political day. But, it no longer bothers you; you’ve accepted the rest of your life will be spent in your husband's shadow. You are a princess, first and foremost.

You are yourself second.

Your peace is disrupted by the sound of heels on the corridor floors and a gentle sign escapes you, expecting your mother to burst through the balcony doors and drag you back to your burden.

“I’ve been looking for you, My Lady.” You’re pleasantly surprised by the familiar voice, twisting on your heels as she makes her presence known. The door closes behind her with a gentle click and you’re no longer alone—you’re company is more than welcome this time, especially as Kiyoko stands with a soft smile on her face and a small plate of palace delicacies she’d more than likely had to sneak away from your mother.

Your eyes widen and you take it from her gleefully. Of course, of all people to notice, Kiyoko was the only one that would do something that could anger your mother—she’d risk the consequences if only to see you content.

Kiyoko had been assigned to you when you turned 16; close in age and the only woman considered even remotely worthy to be the lady-in-waiting to the future queen, according to your mother, she had adopted quickly to her role. Taking the additional, and much needed, position of older sister and, eventually, the stance of sole ally in those pitiful years. She had helped you through tough days and had listened to every complaint you had about any minor detail. She never once cared what upset you, she only cared about you.

She sighs beside you, in a similar manner to how you had when you first escaped from the bustling ballroom. And, suddenly, you’re not the princess anymore; you’re just a woman with her friend. You’re not a person dreading your married life, you’re you. You’re just you.

“Your mother—“

“Please.” You interrupt, sending her a quick glance, you know she wants to ask what you were pulled aside for: a conversation you wanted to forget. “Not now; not here.” Kiyoko nods in return, a comfortable silence enveloping the two of you as you finish the food she managed to sneak away for you.

That’s how you stay as you both stare over the garden: there’s nothing to say. She had already heard your fear for your wedding day; she had witnessed you’re waterfall of tears the night before as you voiced every concern and fear, letting out all the emotions you had been trying to ignore for years. She had seen you at your worst before, what was supposed to be, the happiest night of your life. There was nothing she could ask that would make you feel better.

“Excuse me, Your Highness.” You turn to the entrance of the balcony, the approach of another person going unnoticed by the both of you; straightening your posture your posture in an instant, the fear of your mother catching you in any ‘unladylike’ position running through your veins. Its only when you realise it’s Komori that you allow yourself to relax. “My apologies, I didn’t realise you had company, My Lady.” He bows his head to both you and Kiyoko. You greet him with the best smile you can muster: though you're not entirely happy to see him either–Sakusa’s silence broke your heart but Komori’s helped stamp on the pieces helping you learn losing a friend was just as painful.

He reaches a hand out towards you, offering you a glass of champagne he’s graciously brought with him, unaware of Kiyoko’s presence, he was ill-prepared for company yet, he hands her the second glass initially intended for himself.

“You look beautiful, Your Highness.” He’s the only person, besides Kiyoko, to say those words to you; to remember that this was your day and make it seem as such even if he knows, more than most, the reality of your relationship.

These a brief moment where you do feel beautiful, his soft voice unlocks more memories of the three of you as children, the nights in which Komori would listen to your endless rambling of your excitement for this very night—the plans you had for every detail of the decoration and dress, the exact opposite of what you’d endured. But those few words, his grin that was painted in your memory, childish, familiar and likely one of few things not destroyed by the horrors of war.

But that moment is fleeting; in seconds those memories are tightly locked up again as he speaks: he’s not there for you. “I wish I could come with better news, but I believe your mother has noticed your escape.”

He’s simply on an errand.

Your head drops as you sigh, a sound that has come from you today more than any day of your life. Turning to Kiyoko, you send her a disappointed smile.

“I would gladly escort you both back, My Ladies, if you allow it.” He steps forward, offering his arm to you.

You don’t move.

The thought of your mother seeing you walk arm in arm with your husband’s cousin is daunting: you know she’ll have strong words to say against it. As though he can hear the string of thoughts; you know he can see the conflicted expression on your face but he certainly wasn’t expecting it.

He clears his throat, embarrassment obvious as he lowers his arm. Instead, he opens the door again and steps aside, silence falling between the three of you as you make your way towards the music again, an uncomfortable atmosphere worsening with every step.

Once you arrive, Kiyoko steps aside as she’s beckoned away and you’re left with Komori. He, once again, clears his throat gently—a nervous habit he’d picked up in the years he’d been absent—-and hold out his hand again.

It feels less forced this time as the music plays loudly around you and couples still fill the hall laughing hand in hand as they spin.

“You should enjoy your day, the same as everyone else. I’d be honoured if you were to allow me a dance.” That grin, that voice, that kind man. You falter again and wonder how the friend you’d cherished so strongly had left you in darkness for years yet still acts as though you are the 13 year old girl begging for him to help her practice the endlessly complicated palace dinner etiquette.

But people are watching, he is waiting. “I would be—“

“Komori, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of a dance with my wife yet.” Anyone would have believed you had seen a ghost, the shock on your face impossible to hide as you twist, turning to face Sakusa. He glanced between you and Komori before he holds his hand out to you. “If she’ll allow it.”

She will not. You want to scream. She would not have allowed any of this.

Forcing a smile at the man you’ve married, you take his hand and allow him to lead you to the middle of the ballroom floor now even more painfully aware of the eyes glued to you.

Everyone stops what they’re doing; those dancing step to the side and the music restarts, playing the song you’ve heard hundreds of times in your life.

It begins; Sakusa crosses an arm across his torso as he bows at you. He lifts his head first, eyes meeting yours as he straightens his back. You falter for a millisecond under his gaze before you take hold of the your dress, curtsying elegantly in return before the dance truly begins.

Your hands interlace and he pulls you close, his free hand slides to your back, while you delicately place yours on his shoulder. He pulls you as close as he can resting his head against yours as he takes lead of your movement.

“Must you look so uncomfortable?” He whispers into you ear, loosening his grip on you to allow some distance between you again.

“There is only so much I can hide, Sakusa.” Your voice is more venomous than you had intended yet you feel no shame—the first words you’d exchanged since your vows were not to be pleasant.

“Today, of all days, you must, My Dear.” He fights the want to frown himself as you meet his eyes again.

“This may mean nothing to you,” you grin, sarcasm leaking from your expression that doesn’t go unmissed by your husband—it’s certain to fool those watching. The beautiful first dance of their future leaders, lost in each other; in their love that’s bloomed since their young friendship. “you may be content with a marriage of convenience. But I once wished I’d be married to a man that cared enough to tell me he was alive.”

His face does fall at the words, his frown lasting only a second before he can think of a rebuttal. “I was at war; leading an army. I spent my days fighting and my nights fearing my men would be ambushed; there was not time—”

“There was time for others, was there not?” He blankly stares, effortlessly moving to the music, leading your through the dance you could perform in your sleep. “We are no longer children, Sakusa. You’ve certainly made it clear how foolish I was when we were.”

“That’s not what I—“ He stammers in his defeat, making no effort to refute your claims as your hand comes away from his shoulder. He stylishly spins you, catching you by the waist with ease.

“Four years of silence. I didn’t know if you would even return until you,” Embarrassment fills you as your voice shakes—this is not the place to admit this but there may be no other chance—“until your letter of ten words.”

Your voice is quiet, you’re distracted by the way his hand is placed on your lower back, your clothing hides the feeling of his hands on you, but you feel the pressure as he pulls you close again.

“The war was won;” he defends “I was not aware the wedding would be the day after my return until I received a letter no more than a week ago, I sent word to you to prepare you.”

He leads you further through the dance, dipping your with grace, bringing a memory to the front of your mind.

You remember when you were young and learning this dance in anticipation for this moment; you remember the first time you practiced this very movement; the day he dropped you onto the floor, much to the shock of the instructor but to the entertainment of the two of you. Komori had heard the story later that day: teasing Sakusa alongside you until the novelty wore off.

Sakusa lifts you, bringing you back to an upright position, although, neither of you are prepared for the lack of distance between you. It’s more shocking for you at the sight of his much softer expression mere inches from you: he’s looking at you like a man truly happy to be wed—such delusion.

The music stops, and your curtesy once more; you interaction ends as Sakusa takes your hand, kissing it softly. When he raises his head, his soft demeanour is once again replaced by the unimpressed man you’ve quickly come accustomed to. You weren’t convinced you eyes weren’t playing a cruel trick on you.

He keeps hold of your hand as he guides you to the sidelines again and you try to ignore the beaming smiles of the woman wanting so desperately to be in your position.

Everyone’s in awe of your performance, unaware of the conversation unfolding between you: one that’s worsened your already sour mood. And everything continues as it was with more people swarming to the floor as music begins again, and conversations are in uproar as everyone falls deeper into drunkenness as time progresses.

And you’re not comfortable until you’re sat in front of a vanity mirror again, in an unfamiliar room that you’ll be leaving once you are prepared. You’re thankful Kiyoko was the only one beside you, brushing through your hair and untying the corset that’s crushed you throughout the day.

“My Lady,” Kiyoko whispered, “You mustn’t do anything you do not want to. No matter what your mother wants.” You meet her eyes in the mirror again, offering her a sincere smile.

“I know. I simply need her to believe. Neither of us want this, or an heir right now.” She nods, obviously unconvinced but she doesn’t argue; she doesn’t want to make you feel any worse than you had been.

“I worry—“

“I know.” You take hold of her hand that’s rested on your shoulder. “I appreciate it all; all you’ve done for me today.”

You’re soon wrapped in a shawl, hiding your nightdress as you’re led by a maid to your new bedchambers within the palace.

The door is opened for you and is closed the second you step inside; you’re met with the back of Sakusa’s head as he focuses on the paper he has displayed on his desk, the light of his candle beside him.

You clear your throat, gaining his attention. He turns to you and, he too, has ridden himself of his wedding attire and. instead, donned a much thinner sleeping set. And your briefly distracted by the low cut of his shirt, revealing his toned chest to you.

“I hope you’re not expecting anything.” He sighs, glancing over your appearance, his lingering gaze unnoticed by you. Instead, you frown, and resist the desire to argue the same of him.

“I expect nothing. My mother, however, is under the impression we are eager.” You drop the shawl at a chair in the centre of the room, ignoring the way he did briefly stare once more stopping as he realised and turning back to his papers—he hopes that too was missed along with the gentle blush that paints his cheeks.

“Your mother is—“ His voice gives away nothing.

“Be careful of your words, Your Highness,” you warn as you climb into bed, “she is now your mother too.

Sakusa stops, glancing to you just once more before he lets out a sigh of his own. “Your lady-in-waiting will arrive tomorrow.” He informs you after a few moments of silence.

“I have Kiyoko.” You respond instantaneously, somewhat fearing he’ll replace the closest friend you have with a stranger.

“The future queen requires more than a single lady-in-waiting; she’ll be here tomorrow.” You turn in bed, leaving your back to him and refuse to respond: nothing you say would change his mind.

You close your eyes and bask in the silence of the room, after the day of roaring excitement from almost everyone but yourself, you’re glad to finally have a moment with your own thoughts. You’re uncertain of how much time has passed; but soon enough you feel the bed dip beside you and the warmth of a body beside you. It’s that very warmth that lulls you to sleep.

You wake the next morning to exactly what you expect: the spot in the bed beside you empty and cold.

[agendabymooner]

the hamilton daycare || lh44 fic

lewis hamilton x ofc (hearth sister!ofc)

EXTENSION TO THICK AND THIN

Summary: A retired Lewis Hamilton already knew how to operate while his children’s mother was out to work. So why was their trip to Monaco any different? Right… Much like his in-laws Toto Wolff and Charles Leclerc, he had to find a way to keep his kids occupied while Stevie Hamilton went to Cannes with her sisters. (based on the Charles Leclerc fic, The Leclerc Daycare)

Content warning: dad!Lewis-centric fic, EXTREMELY FLUFF UGH, slight use of explicit language, brief F1 drivers x Hearth Sisters!OFC, mentioned fatherhood, emotional intelligence, and mentions of overbearing media/journalists/shitty paparazzi, feat. dad!Toto Wolff and dad!Charles Leclerc

note: have some dad!lewis hamham <3 enjoy xx

masterlist

Lewis Hamilton disciplined himself to wake up at a decent time in the morning. He’d been retired for a couple of years now, yet his routine as a driver remained except for the practicing for the next race part. In his schedule, two kids were added to the mix.

Who would have thought Lewis was a stay-at-home dad to two of the most adorable kids ever? 

If you told him all those years ago that he’d become one, he would’ve laughed at your face. But now, he was pretty content with his life. It was still busy, of course. He still had some side projects that he would work on, but he often worked on them remotely, wanting to keep an eye on his kids as they grow continuously. He didn’t like being away from them as often— knowing that when he raced, he was often away for weeks— even months. 

His relationship with Stevie Marlene Hearth remained stable as she worked as a communications director at Ferrari — making their distance shorter than expected. But now, with kids at home, neither ever considered being away for too long. 

Stevie could make do as she could work remotely, but if Lewis hadn’t retired just as his eldest was born? Yeah, they would be screwed. He wouldn’t have been able to see his kids as much. He wasn’t about to bear that thought without feeling an ounce of guilt in his system. His wife came from a family with an absent father; he didn’t want their kids to go through that. He would have to be a shitty father first. 

And so he made himself the best father that one could be. A househusband was what his sister-in-law Sylvie had called him, and he embraced that title. He was proud to be called a stay-at-home dad. Not everyone got to drop off their kids at the preschool happily, and Lewis had every chance to do so. He welcomed this opportunity with open arms. He did everything a parent would in a domestic household. He cooked, cleaned and cared for their children just as he was about to do now.

Now, it was only 7:30 in the morning in Monte-Carlo. He was moving around the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for his kids and wife while Sylvie helped him cook as compensation for waking him up at six in the morning to open the door to his vacation home. 

“Did you feed Sassy and Jimmy?” Lewis asked Sylvie as they prepared the food. “I don’t want Max coming home later tonight to two starving cats because I haven’t fed them enough.” 

“They’ve been fed,” Sylvie scoffed out. “I left them some stuff to eat as well. Just please feed them later?” 

“I will,” Lewis replied with a nod while he prepared his kids’ breakfast. Blueberry waffles and eggs were their usual breakfast, and it didn’t even take him long to start making their fresh eggs. 

“Thanks, Lew,” Sylvie grinned as she plated the cut-up fruits. She took a slice of an apple and munched on it while she said, “Where’s my sister? Did you wake her up yet?” 

“Yeah, she should be down soon,” Lewis answered as he gestured towards the second floor, “she’s just getting her bag packed up and everything. You lots always pack a lot for people who’d only be out for a day only.”

“You’re the one to talk,” Sylvie frowned lightly. “We all took the same jet more than twice— don’t think for once I have not seen the pile of suitcases you have on top of Stevie’s mountain full of bags.”

They paused for a moment when they both heard a pattering of small feet, making them look towards the entrance of the open dining and kitchen space as two little figures with tamed curls walked in. Both were frazzled, and Lewis could only smile at the thought that they’d literally just woken up. 

“Oh! Lottie, Leland— it’s your Aunt Sylvie,” a blonde woman followed the two as Stevie Hamilton grinned at her sister. “Good morning!” 

“Morning,” Sylvie watched her nephew and niece walk up to her with their shoulders slightly slumped. The woman nearly laughed aloud at this as she said, “Is it too early for you two littles?” 

“Mornin’, Aun’ie.”

Lewis looked at both of his carbon copies’ hairs. “Lotlot- Leland,” he laughed quietly, “your hair looks very messy. Have we not combed it yet?” 

His little princess shied away from the comment, now a bit flustered after Lewis brought up the state of her bedhead. 

Lottie Cecelia Darcy Hamilton was born to a newly married Lewis and Stevie — roughly eight months after the couple wedded on Valentine's Day. He’s had a fair experience with kids — with his boss Toto and Lewis’ best friend Tilly having three children and his siblings having their own kids as a test run. But it was different when Lottie was born. It was as if everything he prepared for had disappeared. He was petrified to hold his princess for the first time, but it all disappeared when Lottie offered him a soft smile when he first spoke to her. 

He could remember how his eyes were tearing up when she smiled just as he uttered the words, “You’re so beautiful.” 

And at age five, she still remained the sweetest girl to have existed. Whenever she’d shy away from anyone, Lewis just wanted to cry, his heart full of adoration towards her. Now, as she hid herself from her dad — he couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty. 

“I’m sorry, my girl,” Lewis said softly, not wanting to make his own daughter cry.

He really couldn’t just make his kids cry — he remembered how hard he laughed after Lottie, in her 7th month, accidentally tripped on a sleeping Roscoe. He also reminded himself that Stevie caught him wailing in laughter while Lottie cried. God, he was such a horrid dad at times.

“We can get them done in braids when we hang out, hm?” 

Hearing the word ‘braid’ had his son’s eyes sparkling as he exclaimed, “Daddy, hair pretty too?”

“Of course, little man,” Lewis grinned at his son. 

“We see Mamé later?” Leland asked, excitement washing through his features as he grinned widely. 

Leland Carl Darwin Hamilton was his youngest. Lewis didn’t exactly plan on having his littles’ names have his initials, but Stevie had a knack for tributes like her sisters. He had free reign to name his son after making a bet with Stevie about the gender. He had a few months to think of it, but he was more worried about Stevie’s pregnancy than he was worried about his son getting bullied for his name. Lewis thought of Lewis Jr., but he didn’t want to make his son an extension of his name.

Lewis didn’t have a clue on what to name his son, but the moment Sylvie uttered, “He looks like a Leland,” he couldn’t help but agree and immediately snatched the idea from his in-law. So with his soft curls and his smile, Leland remained as Lewis’ mini. 

But if there was anything the retired Mercedes driver had learned from the moment his son had been born, it was that Leland was a twin brother to his Leclerc cousin, who was born a month or two after him. Yes, he was Lewis’ son, but Leland Hamilton and Sacha ‘PJ’ Leclerc were their own duo.

You see, PJ Leclerc was Stevie’s nephew — born to her youngest sister, Aimee Leclerc — and the sisters had made it a habit to lump the two together whenever possible. If the Leclercs hadn’t been living in Monaco (or if the Hamilton family moved back to the principality), PJ and Lewis’ son would’ve been sticking together like glue.

They shared a lot of stuff together, even their grandparents. PJ called Pascale Leclerc ‘Mamé’, and Leland had picked up on it and started calling her Mamé too. 

“I’m sure we will,” Lewis answered with a grin. “Nobody does your haircut better than Mamé does.”

“You’re getting him a haircut?” Sylvie’s jaw slacked, “We’re only going to be out for a day.”

“We’ve been trying to get Lels his trims done, but he wouldn’t let anyone touch his hair,” Stevie rolled her eyes, now directing her kids towards the dining table as the two began eating breakfast. The older woman continued, “But he persisted. Only Pascale could do his hair without him throwing a fit.” 

“A boy with taste, he is,” Sylvie joked, now turning towards Lewis as she asked, “Is your day out just gonna consist of getting your hair done, or are you planning to keep your kids sane?” 

“Toto texted me last night,” Lewis replied, sitting across from his kids as he grabbed his vegan breakfast from the centre of the table. “He managed to book the indoor playground for a couple of hours so his kids and their cousins could go as crazy as they wanted. So it’ll keep Lels and Lotlot busy.”

“Ah yes, the F1 father support group,” Sylvie laughed. “Is that the location this time? I’m surprised he managed to book it at the last minute?”

“If you told your sisters beforehand about a day in Cannes, we would’ve given them more notice,” Lewis replied back, making Sylvie shrug. “Or a better location.”

“I know, I’m sorry-“ Sylvie started, “but I didn't even realize how free I was until Christian decided to let the communications team go for the rest of the break after Max blew up during the interview last race.” 

“Mmm, yeah, that’s really not a problem,” Lewis waved off, “I’m just glad they’ve finally gotten off the hook now.” 

“Well, Max got an earful from me— his fiancée— on the first day of the break,” Sylvie huffed.

Sylvie was the Head of the Media Communications of the Red Bull team and had often made an effort to ensure that they wouldn’t be stupid enough to say something that would taint the team’s image as an outstanding team. Sylvie didn’t often have an issue with managing her drivers’ media duties and responsibilities, but for whatever reason, the Dutchman’s behaviour was too much to handle by any journalist. 

Sylvie continued, “I wasn’t about to let Christian nor the higher-ups just give my staff overtime because of what happened. Max needed to sort that out himself.”

“Well, they did get paid for it.”

“For a price of a certain amount of sanity, too.” 

Lewis rolled his eyes playfully as Sylvie asked, “All jokes aside. Are you sure you’re alright with us going? I can just stick to Monaco instead of going to Cannes?”

“It’s not my first rodeo,” Lewis waved off and joked, “You’d only be gone for a day. Stevie, I hope you don't miss the kids too much, though.” 

“I’m already shedding tears,” Stevie pouted playfully and sniffled, hugging Leland from behind as she said, “I’m going to miss my boy and my princess soooo much~ I wish Mummy could stay.” 

“No, Mummy,” Leland protested with a frown, “have fun, ‘member?” 

“Yes! Have fun, Mummy!” Lottie exclaimed as she munched on her waffle. “No stress in Ferrari, okay?” 

Sylvie snorted behind her glass of apple juice. Lewis offered his in-law a look as they both laughed quietly. Whatever Charles told Lottie and Leland, it rubbed off on them. Lewis couldn’t fault Charles for that, especially when he’s had his years of being fucked over by the strategies in place during the previous seasons. 

But Stevie’s disbelief was all over her face as she gasped, staring at her daughter with wide eyes. She glanced at Lewis and Sylvie before she shook her head and softly kissed Lottie’s hair. “The F in Ferrari means fun, my love. That’s what it means.” 

“What about this?” 

“Lot, princess,” Lewis looked over his shoulder as he watched his daughter stand there in a set of tracksuits. “It’s hot. Why don’t you pick something comfortable?” 

“But this is pink, Daddy,” Lottie reasoned out. “I want pink.” 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve got more pink in your closet,” Lewis stated as he followed her into the princess-themed bedroom, glancing over at the closet before he caught a glimpse of a hot pink and reached for it. It was a see-through hot pink dress. Underneath the sheer fabric was a white playsuit that went with the dress. “See? This is much more comfortable than the trousers you’re wearing now.”

“But these trousers are for playing. White is messy, Mummy said.” 

“Yeah, but Mummy and Daddy can wash it for next time,” Lewis almost sighed. His daughter was an overthinker, much like when he first began dating Stevie.

For goodness sake, Lottie was five and already thinking too much. 

“It can be washed off, don’t you worry about it,” Lewis told his daughter gently, “besides, you will look really pretty in those. Mummy got them for you, remember?”

“Hm…” Lottie hummed before she took the hanger from her father’s hand and nodded. “‘Kay. Thank you, Daddy.” 

“Mhm,” Lewis smiled softly as he watched her run off to change her clothes. His smile never left just as he wandered off to find his son, who sat on his bedroom floor with a Christopher Robin pop-up book. “Leland.”

The boy looked up, and his eyes brightened at the sight of his father. Lewis examined the outfit he had put together for the boy: a Prada shirt that was just as colourful as any of the outfits he wore back when he was still a driver fulfilling his media duties. Leland’s little denim bucket hat covered the wild curls waiting to be trimmed and washed at Pascale’s salon. 

Despite his colourful outfit and beautiful features, Leland looked a bit… blue. His eyes dimmed a little seconds after catching sight of his dad. Lewis wondered, “How are you feeling, little man?” 

“Mummy not here,” Leland told his dad almost gloomily, “Mummy sad?” 

“What? She is not sad,” Lewis took his phone from his pocket before opening a photo Stevie sent of herself with her sisters on the road. Her smile was radiating from the screen, and it shone bright. He crouched down to show his son, “See? She’s happy. Maybe you are sad?” 

“Leland not sad,” Leland shook his head with a frown. “Leland sad because Mummy is.”

“So, how do you feel now that you know Mummy isn’t sad?” Lewis asked. As a child, he was always told to tell his parents how he felt — that his feelings shouldn’t be bottled up but explored. A child who was told to keep to himself is a child who never learned to be curious about his surroundings, making him either isolated or unthoughtful.

Stevie wasn’t raised to be selfish, either. Lewis knew she put her younger sisters before herself, asking them how they felt or if anything could make them feel better. Just as Lottie began to explore the world, Lewis learned to encourage his children to be the little adventurers that they were — to explore their surroundings and emotions. 

Much like his sister, Leland was en route to becoming an emotionally intelligent toddler, thanks to his parents. Lewis always asked Leland how he felt, especially when the child was silent. “Lels? How are you feeling, buddy?”

“Happy, Daddy,” Leland finally answered, leaving the older man to grin as Lewis reached out to wrap his arm around his son. “Happy because Mummy’s happy!”

“That is good,” Lewis nodded encouragingly. “Sissy is also happy, she said. Since you and Sissy are happy, do you know what that makes Daddy?” 

“Wha’?” 

“Happy!” Lewis grinned. He also learned how to share his feelings rather than bottling it up. If he was to teach his kids how to explore their emotions, then he should do it, too. 

The first hour outside consisted of taking a trip to Max and Sylvie’s temporary flat in Monaco, where the cats were currently roaming around as the couple spent their time back and forth between Monaco and the UK. As requested, Lewis (and his kids) fed Sassy and Jimmy and spent half their time playing with the cats. He was never a cat person, but he’d do many things just to care for his in-laws’ pets. 

Now, Lewis stood by the counter as the retired driver watched Lottie getting her braids done by a friendly hairstylist, pink extensions laced through her hair. Next to the counter was where Leland sat, his hair being cared for by Pascale Leclerc. 

“It’s a good thing you came here, Lewis,” Pascale grinned as she continued to work on Leland’s hair. “Too bad you haven’t seen Charles and the kids. They were here an hour ago to say hi.”

“We’ll see them later,” Lewis chuckled. “I’ve heard he brought his friends along.”

“Three kids in one trip isn’t exactly a good idea if it was just him so he roped Estie and Pierre into watching the boys,” Pascale replied with a giggle. “His boys are just like him and his brothers back then. So active.”

“I suppose that’s what happens when you raise your kids in a principality full of people,” Lewis joked, “they’re most likely to be more loud than serene.”

“Mamé,” Leland interrupted the adult conversation, making the two peer down at the toddler as Pascale pulled away. Leland then turned and asked, “Where is PJ?” 

Lewis laughed at the excitement in his son’s voice. Pascale chuckled and said, “You will see your cousin, my darling! Let Mamé care for your hair first, hm?”

“Yes, don’t worry about PJ right now, silly goose,” Lewis pinched his son’s cheek lightly, leaving Leland to grin at him. “You will see him later.” 

“How are you liking Lottie’s hair though?” As Lewis looked at his daughter, Pascale gestured towards the girl, who giggled at her hairdresser as the older woman spoke about princesses. “The pink extensions just came in last week— I knew Lot’s gonna love it.”

“She saw the pastel rainbow too,” Lewis grinned, “she would’ve chosen it but said she’d go match her hair with her clothes.”

“I think your little boy will get his hair braided too,” Pascale told him quietly with a grin, “he said something about the silver one— it reminds him of Mercedes.”

Lewis chuckled at this. Leland was his mini, indeed. 

Leland wasn’t even listening to them, too busy with the McLaren Tooned episode playing on Lewis’ phone. The older Hamilton merely shook his head at his son’s thoughts. “His Uncle Toto will love that.” 

“Well, let’s just hope there’s enough hair to braid after his haircut,” Pascale sighed as she continued to tend to the wild state of Leland’s hair. “This boy is very indecisive about getting the right length.”

It wasn’t rare for tourists of Monaco to come across a celebrity and have their photos taken with them. It wasn’t different from Lewis — he’s a Formula One retired driver.

He’s had things signed and photos taken while he lived in the principality, and there were times when he hadn’t needed any security. He was safe here, and no fans were insane enough to even try and act erratically towards him. But he often hesitated when it came to his children. 

Stevie and Lewis were both A-listers and continued to be so as years passed. Stevie was a supermodel — making her well-known in the fashion industry and even show business overall. Lewis became well known for his dedication to his racing career, and his fan base expanded as much as his wife’s did as she walked down the runways. If there was anything he knew about their marriage, it was that paparazzi wouldn’t leave them alone, especially after their children were born.

It was what they hated about living in the United Kingdom. They abhorred everything that most British media outlets had written about them because they were biased— mostly leaning more toward the editorial side instead of delivering the news. Lewis could remember how Stevie was practically harassed by the paparazzi when they had that nasty fight in public all those years ago. He learned to stand his ground in that situation— telling them to fuck off in the process. 

And then there’s that situation when Stevie was pregnant with Lottie. She almost got knocked out by a reporter who wanted to get a good story, only for Lewis to scream at the man and practically threaten to end his season early if that kind of harassment continued in the paddock. Since then, FIA had a strict policy on journalists outside the F1 media, keeping a safe distance from the guests and staff. 

These situations scared Lewis Hamilton. The fact that his children were out in the world, trying to explore it while cameras were on them all the freaking time? It wasn’t something that he ever enjoyed living with. So he tried to keep them at a safe distance from the cameras and the public, allowing them to explore their curiosities without being exposed to the nastiest side of the media. 

But the tourists of Monaco understood his worries and how they kept their distance from the kids and Lewis while they politely asked for photos with him, nearly had him giving out his whole wallet as a gift of appreciation. His kids didn’t feel scared around these strangers but asked if they could be in the photos.

“Can I be in the photo, Daddy?” Lottie asked as she smiled up at him and the pair of fans that stood with admiration. The fans thought that Lottie and Leland were the cutest, and they wouldn’t say no.

Lewis was alright with it, too. “Yes, of course, princess. Come here,” he pulled her next to him. 

“Daddy, me too!” Leland exclaimed before coming up to hug Lewis on the leg. The three smiled widely with the pair of fans, getting their photos taken before Lewis looked back at his fans.

“Thank you sooo much!” The one on the left’s eyes brightened as she gushed, “You are so amazing. And you have kind kids!” 

“Oh! Thank you!” Lewis replied, equally as happy before he wrapped his arms around both his kids. “They are very polite. Their Mummy and Daddy taught them to be nice to others. I’m glad they are practicing it.”

“How old are they?” The other asked.

Lewis looked down at his daughter, “Lottie, how old are you?” 

“FIVE!” Lottie stuck out her hand, showing five of her fingers.

“TWO!” Leland answered after, making Lewis smile. 

“Do you want to see something?” The fans nodded before he beamed in pride and asked Lottie, “Lotlot, if you add five and two, what number would you have?”

Lottie paused for a second before murmuring quietly to herself, the adults watching her as she counted on her fingers. “Four…five…six…” then she looked up at them and answered, “Seven, Daddy.”

“…and they’re smart, too— ugh!” The fans squealed. “I wasn’t even interested in maths at her age.” 

Lewis continued to smile, offering his fans a big grin. It wasn’t every day he got to meet fans who weren’t so invasive when it came to his privacy— or those who were too overbearing and would scare his kids away. If only everyone were like them, then maybe Lewis would’ve been more open to sharing his life with the public without any hesitation. 

Lewis eyed the cotton candy bag on the indoor cafe table, wondering if it was left open on purpose as he glanced at his in-laws. Charles Leclerc sat there and shrugged, indicating that it wasn’t his kids. Then, the British man looked at his other in-law, who was once his team principal when he still raced. 

Toto Wolff sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically, grabbing the plastic bag as he tucked it into his daughter’s opened backpack and muttered, “Your niece has a bad habit of leaving things out for the littles to get sugar rush on. I keep telling her to put her stuff away so it doesn't get stolen and it's clearly not working.”

“We know, Toto,” Lewis chuckled with a shake of his head before looking at Charles, “it was a good thing the little ones found the playground first before the sweets.”

Pierre Gasly and Esteban Ocon were also in the cafe and made their presence known to Lewis as they returned with a tray, and five mugs of ice cream were waiting to be held. The sight of the desserts left Toto, Lewis and Charles groaning. 

“Gasly, I hope that isn’t for any of the kids,” Toto started, already too annoyed at the thought of feeding his youngest this amount of ice cream. Seeing the energy of the Leclerc kids already took out Toto’s energy, so for his youngest to get sugar high wasn’t on the books.

“Non,” Pierre replied with a smirk before grabbing a spoon and taking the cloud mug off the tray. He scooped up some of his chocolate ice cream before indulging in it. He then said, “It’s hot outside. We shouldn’t leave the ice creams to the kids and have some for ourselves.”

“I like your thinking,” Lewis and Toto nodded before they both reached for the cold dessert. 

Their conversation shifted from the desserts to the fathers’ vacation with the kids. Pierre and Esteban merely listened as they had nothing to offer regarding a conversation about kids. Neither of them had any.

Toto nearly went on a tangent about his daughter’s stubbornness and his son’s overwhelming practice days. According to him, Tia kept forgetting that karting was what she needed to take a break from. The girl barely gave herself some time off and often insisted on getting driven straight to the karting track in Brackley for practice by the family chauffeur. She was nine and already insisting on being extremely perfect at the league. 

Not only that, but Toto’s eldest, Soren, was barely given a break from his school’s association football practice; his coach was a douche, and if the men didn’t know any better as they were listening to Toto, they would have immediately said that the coach was trying to make the school team into a Premier League-level team. It was a private school, not a football academy. If Toto and Tilly hadn’t pulled Soren out of his practice (during his summer break), he wouldn’t have made it to Monaco with his siblings. Toto also expressed how close he was to a fistfight with Soren’s football coach.

Then Lewis continued to sit there as Charles told them about his day with his sons so far. The kids baked cookies earlier today with their Uncle Estie and watched The Princess and The Frog after Hervé, Charles’ son, cried at the thought of his mom not being home. He then stated how worried he was about tucking the kids in tonight because he never did it alone. His wife was always with him to do it. Lewis and Toto only said that he would do perfectly fine as long as he did what he normally does on their bedtime - telling them stories, tucking them in and everything else. 

Charles’ worry eventually withered away, leaving Lewis to tell the men on the table how his day had been going. They all kept their eyes on their children as they wreaked havoc at the playground, with Toto’s two eldest at the arcade area. 

“...I’ve met some fans today,” Lewis continued on, “They were so polite, and the kids were surprisingly not scared of them.”

“They must’ve kept themselves at a distance then,” Esteban replied, “which is very good.”

“The kids are sociable, they are,” Lewis told the men, “they just tend to be scared of other people because they get hounded real fast whenever they see me or Stevie. It’s not just us, right?”

Charles nodded, “PJ doesn’t like the journalists. Some assholes still shove their cameras on the kids’ faces, and it takes me a good while to not break them. Remember Silverstone last year? PJ cried hard because of the flashes and the screaming of the paparazzi.”

Lewis’s heart broke at the statement, “Poor lad.”

“That’s why I think Monaco’s safer at times,” Toto murmured, “nobody’s bothering the kids whenever they’re out.”

“I’ve always considered getting a security for them,” Lewis shrugged.

“Why don’t you? It’s good if you did,” Pierre piped up, sipping on his water.

Lewis then answered, “Our home in Warwick’s pretty secluded and Lottie’s preschool is very accommodating. I like the thought of getting security, but at the same time, I don’t believe that we need that just yet. We’d need it for public events but for daily? No, I don’t think we need it.”

“Speaking of preschool,” Charles interjected before he asked Lewis, “Herb and Jules are telling me about this book that they saw from Lottie. It’s phonics, I think? J- Jol–”

“Oh! Jolly Phonics,” Lewis suggested, leaving the Monegasque to nod eagerly. “Yes, Lottie got a lot of those books. It was what they have in their preschool.”

“Yeah, the boys said they love it,” Charles pursed his lips, “will you send me the link to it? I’ve been wondering what the titles are, but I've had no luck. Aimee was struggling to figure it out, too.”

“Definitely, I’ll send the Amazon link to you,” Lewis nodded as Charles murmured ‘thanks.’

“You know what, Charles,” Toto piped up, making the men turn to him, “I’ll also send you some links to the Italian and French phonics that we got the kids. I find it quite helpful when they learn it at home, too. Have you ever thought of flashcards?”

“Oui,” Charles nodded, “but I would have to make them myself, non? I can’t buy it.”

“I am sure there are some resources you can get them from,” Toto replied, “but Tilly always made them by hand. She printed them and laminated them. The kids really liked them because they were the ones putting the answers in.”

“What about you, Lewis?” Charles asked, “Do you have the same?”

Lewis grimaced, “We do our phonics on the iPad.”

“Maybe that’s what I should do, though,” the retired driver continued as he hummed, “it’ll definitely be a hands-on experience for Lottie and Leland. Do you reckon your wife still has the links to the printables, Toto?”

DADDIES, DEBRIEFED! Formula One drivers and team principal discuss teaching strategies at home as Toto Wolff shows a photo of preschool books in his phone.

“Indoor playgrounds, pastel mugs and… serious discussion of at-home learning? Now, this is a story I can get behind!”

CHARLES LECLERC, PIERRE GASLY, ESTEBAN OCON AND LEWIS HAMILTON listen in as Toto speaks seriously in this photo!

“What could they be talking about, you ask? Simple: learn phonics and preschool lessons at home and make it as fun as playtime!”

NAME ONE THING HOTTER THAN THE MONACO SUN. We’ll hint: Formula One drivers being the hottest dads as they take their kids for a day out in the principality.

“When is it Max Verstappen’s turn? No, the cats and the dog do not count.”

“Daddy?” Lewis Hamilton had a thick skin. Nothing could break him, really. But his confidence towards the possibility of being vulnerable to anything weakened as he became a father to two of the most precious humans in the world. He had a weak spot, but he was okay with it.

He was never prepared for anything, though. When he turned around to face his daughter, already tucked in her bed after a bedtime story, his smile softened as Lottie asked him, “Are you happy?”

“Of course, I am, my girl,” Lewis nearly cried on the spot as he continued, “why did you ask? Are you happy?”

“I am,” Lewis could tell that Lottie was already falling asleep, but it never stopped her from grinning as she said, “But Mummy said that we ask others if they are happy too.”

“Yes, because we don’t know if they are happy or not,” Lewis walked back to her direction before crouching down, “And other people would not know if you don’t answer them. Mummy’s right, princess, and you are such a smart girl for remembering.”

Lewis tucked the strand of curl behind her ear and kissed her forehead, “Now, sleep tight, my love. You can continue being happy in your dreams, hm?”

“Good night,” Lottie murmured before she drifted off to sleep, “Love you, Daddy.”

Lewis peered down at her and smiled softly, whispering in the air, “And I love you.”

If someone asked Lewis how he was feeling, he’d say that he was happy that the Hamilton daycare in Monaco was a success. 

fin.

[ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater]

A Second Chance, A Father's Curse -Part 5 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

Thank you all for the support on this series, the first part has become one of my top posts and it's only been out for about a month or so, I'm really glad there's people enjoying my writing!! &lt;333

Part 4 here

Warnings: Blood, beheading, satoru gojo is a little shit

Word count: 3.3k

“Repeat yourself, and pray that I heard you wrong lest your head falls from your shoulders,” Jin Itadori’s voice rings out in the throne room. It has gone deathly silent, the gathering of lords and his remaining four sons all now listening indiscreetly to the messenger who speaks.

“Y-your highness,” The messenger stutters, “Your son bears no traces of Itadori tattoos upon his body,” There is barely a sound as the king stands, but the messenger is quick to fall to his knees and beg for his life. Jin Itadori is not a merciful king, but he gives it this once, gives the messenger a second chance, “Go, watch over him, report back the instant anything of note happens,”

He does not have to wait long. The messenger is dead before he can finish his sentence. The only words Yuji Itadori heard, “The Crown Prince of Iqoria has perished, the King and Queen retire, your son is set to be-” Before two thumps, one after the other, and his head is rolling back down the stairs he climbed to bow directly at the throne.

The king is breathing heavily, Yuji steps instinctively between his father and his younger brothers, “OUT!” His face is red with rage, “EVERYBODY OUT!” Choso and Yuji exchange a glance, grab a brother each and sprint out the back entrance to the throne room. Their mother is not far behind, her knuckles white with stress.

“Oh mother,” Yuji murmurs once they’re a safe distance away, letting go of Kechizu and taking her hands, rubbing the backs of her knuckles until she stops clenching them. “My sons,” She whispers, tears dripping down her face, “Oh my boys, it will not be safe here for much longer,”

“We can go to Iqoria, Ryomen will take us in,” Yuji insists. “He might take you three, he won’t take me,” Choso murmurs. “What makes you so sure?” “He knows you, he protects you three, just go without me, I will be fine,” “No, if you won’t leave then neither will we,” Eso speaks up, “Either we all go or none of us do,” Kechizu nods, his hands finding Yuji again and pressing his body to his brothers, “I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t want to go anywhere without big brother Choso,” He murmurs softly.

Their mother sobs quietly, “You must all go, I refuse to lose you in his darkness,” “We cannot go yet, we must wait a few days,” Choso murmurs, pacing the hall as he thinks. “He is sure to punish us though, he is sure to come for us if we do not leave soon,” Yuji pleads. Kaori grabs her eldest son and pulls him in for a tight hug, “I will keep him away from you, do what you must to prepare but you must leave before the coronation, things will only escalate from there,”

The two eldest exchange a glance over her shoulder, fearing their father’s wrath and what they know can come from it. Slaughter, destruction, meaningless suffering, war, and of course what comes hand-in-hand with all of that. Curses manifested in their millions.

~

“What a punishment for the Captain of the Guards!” “Leave it Satoru,” “Oh no, seriously, I can’t believe she’s making you hang out with me, you must’ve really pissed her off with that stunt for her to make you do this, I mean guarding the royal sorcerer? When the royal sorcerer is me?” He smirks. It annoys Geto. The guard looks for solace in scanning the nearby treeline, deliberate in his choice to omit a reply.

“Come now, not talking to me? And here I was thinking we were friends,” Gojo continues his rituals, shooting his reluctant companion a glance as he renews the veil around the city. “Oh, so we’re friends now are we?” Geto mutters. “You wound me Captain!” Gojo groans as he steps back from the veil to admire his handiwork, the air shimmering with a lovely blue colour for a moment before fading into the air.

“Tell me about him then, if you’re so eager to talk, tell me about Prince Ryomen,” Geto folds his arms as they begin to walk back to the city, “How dangerous is he?” “You worry too much Suguru, he may be strong but if the Princess needed it, I promise you I’d win,” Geto raises an eyebrow, one hand resting now on the hilt of his sword, “Forgive my lack of faith, Satoru, but the Princess’ wellbeing is my highest priority, if I have to kill him to save her I need to know if I will be able to,”

“You really don’t like him, do you?” Gojo’s voice has softened, his face more relaxed than before as he eases into the conversation. It irks Geto. “He lashed out at her on the journey here, what am I supposed to think?” Gojo sighs, “And she forgave him, she said it was because she pushed for information he wasn’t willing to provide anyway, so what is your problem?”

They pass through the castle walls and veil as Geto falls quiet, unwilling to reply. “Is it because of those girls?” Gojo asks again. Geto turns to the royal sorcerer, gripping his arm tightly to stop him walking ahead, “I cannot lose her, if I lose her then all I have left is the failure,” Gojo’s eyes fill with pity as he looks back. It infuriates Geto. He doesn’t need the sorcerer’s pity.

“I can exorcise them if you need me to, Suguru, you don’t have to live like this,” He murmurs. “If you do that, then they’ll be gone forever,” He mutters, letting his hand drop, “This is my punishment, this is what I deserve,”

“Nobody deserves punishment for failing to protect what they love, the grief is enough, you don’t have to do this to yourself,” Geto starts walking again, heading for the sorcerer’s tower within the castle grounds.

“Think about it!” Gojo calls as he jaunts along behind the storm cloud of a man, “It might be good for you!”

~

“The news will have reached Khoccadia by now,” Ryomen whispers, his fingertips trailing up and down your spine as you lay in his arms in your shared bed, “We must prepare for the worst my father is capable of,” His other arm tightens around you slightly and you feel his muscles tense with fear. Your hands trail up his chest to his cheeks, gently rubbing with your thumbs, “And your brothers? What of them? Will they follow him?”

He shudders at the thought, curling himself down around you, “They’re better men than that, they will not,” He insists, “If…” He trails off, but you look up into his eyes, prompting him to continue the thought, “If they come here seeking refuge will you allow me to care for them?” His eyes plead silently as he looks into yours. You cannot say you’re thrilled with the idea, especially considering the implications it may have with regards to Jin Itadori, but you nod, “As long as you can trust them without a single drop of doubt, then yes,”

A flash of determination crosses his gaze, “I will make sure of it,” He mutters, shifting down and nudging his head under your chin. He’s been oddly protective the last few days, as if he expects his father to jump out of the nearest shadow and snap your neck where you stand. With the veil still lowered you know this to be impossible, as it directly alerts Gojo of anyone entering the city and the castle who was not born in Iqoria.

“Worry not of matters concerning your father right this second, please, just close your eyes and dream of elsewhere,” You murmur, your fingers trailing over his shoulders and upper back. “Why would I dream of elsewhere, when right here is where I want to be,” He breathes as his body relaxes against you, his breath fanning your collarbones as the candlelight splashes his cheeks.

Your bodies are cradled amongst swathes of blankets and an excess of pillows, your hands content to just lull him to sleep while your book remains bookmarked on the bedside table behind you. A gentle knock on the door makes you look up, “Come in,” You call softly. The knocker, a maid who slips in the room and bows quickly, smiles when she notices Ryomen’s slumbering form.

“Has he accustomed to Iqoria my lady?” She murmurs. You nod, “I believe so, what did you come for?” You ask, gently brushing your fingers through his hair. “Oh yes, Ieiri Shoko would like to see you, may I let her in?” She asks, to which you nod. The royal physician enters a moment later, her face dull as usual, only slightly warming after she’s showed her respects.

“Princess,” She starts, “Do you want the good news or the bad news?” She asks. You shift until you’re sat a bit more upright, Ryomen’s face now buried against your stomach, “Might as well start with the bad,” You frown. “It’s your mother, Princess, she retires because she’s fallen ill, and I fear it is not the kind of illness my touch can heal,” Her words are soft, softer than you’re used to hearing from her, and you appreciate it despite the blow it deals.

You feel your chest tighten, tears threatening to fall, “Her heart strains with the loss of her son, it’s alright, you don’t have to be gentle with me,” You murmur, “I only wish for her to be at ease,” Shoko approaches the bed, pulling the chair from your desk with her and then sitting backwards astride it, leaning her arms on the back of it, “May I tell you the good news?”

You nod again, your hand coming up to brush your tears away before they can fall to the pillows beneath you. “I do not believe this illness will kill her, at least not for a long time. There are stories of people dying suddenly of broken hearts but I believe with her daughter taking the throne and her husband still by her side she will live to see another age of Iqoria,”

Shoko’s words prompt idle thoughts, memories of your mother from your childhood, and you nod again, “Thank you for telling me,” You murmur, “Does father know?” She nods, “He specifically requested for my help,” Your hand returns to the back of Ryomen’s head, just gently holding him close lest you fall apart.

It’s just been one bad turn after another, and a little gremlin inside of you tries it’s best to convince you that Ryomen’s presence has been nothing but bad luck, but you shoot it down with vehemence. You’re determined to help him use his immense cursed energy for good, and if that means you have to put yourself in between him and his father, or him and your people, then so be it.

“I do have one other thing I would like to ask of you Princess,” She murmurs, her voice lower than before, and it captures your attention back. “What is it?” “May I examine the Prince while he slumbers? I worry for his health,” She asks tentatively, “I wish to look for any lasting damage within his body from both the cursed energy he bears, and from the physical abuse that he suffered in his childhood,”

You look down at your husband, sleeping peacefully with his face hidden against your stomach, his eyelashes fluttering with whatever dreams race behind his eyelids. Part of you resents the idea of examining him without his knowledge, but you can guess he would refuse if he was awake, “What will this achieve?” You inquire.

“If I can ascertain his sensitivity to cursed energy then I can give Satoru pointers on how to teach him, and maybe even teach him myself, refine his reverse cursed technique. I can also begin work to fix some of the lasting damage within him caused by his childhood trauma, but of course my lady it is your decision right now,” She puts her hand up and gestures to you, “You are to be queen after all,”

“I do not fear retribution as such, I know I can order him to do this, but I fear a breach of boundaries, the loss of trust, Ieiri,” You murmur sadly, “As much as I agree this is something that needs to happen, I cannot do it without his knowledge or without his consent,”

“Will you speak with him about it?” She presses and you sigh, “Yes Ieiri, I will speak with him, but I cannot guarantee anything, he may not want you to heal him, is that all you came to speak about?” Your eyes are drooping and you wish nothing more than for her to leave, as much as you enjoy her company on a regular basis you need to be alone.

She dips her head, “That was all, goodnight Princess,” She returns the chair to its place and then backs out of the room, the latch clicking and her footsteps trailing off into the distance. “Oh Ryomen, what have we gotten ourselves into,” You whisper softly, shimmying back down under the covers until he’s tucked under your chin once more.

~

You didn’t sleep much after Ieiri left. If you could have tossed and turned you would, it felt too hot and restrictive under the covers despite the comfort of your husband’s arms. When he woke you were dozing in the soft sunbeams creeping through the window. “Still sleepy?” He grunts, nudging his nose to your chin as he moves to tuck you into his chest instead.

You grumble something incoherent before the words spill from your mouth, “Shoko visited before I could sleep, told me that mother is ill,” You speak in short sentences, just a hint of anger in your voice, “She wanted to examine you while you were asleep, didn’t let her,” A yawn prevents you from speaking more but he tilts your chin up to look into your sleepy eyes.

“Examine me?” “Your energy sensitivity, your physical trauma,” You mutter, “See if anything was left behind, or strained under your energy,” You shake his hand off your chin and push your face into the hollow space between his neck and shoulder, “She’s worried you’ll suffer under the weight of everything,”

He’s quiet and you can sense him bristling like a hedgehog, “I’m not a specimen to be examined, I’m a human being,” He growls. You hum in agreeance, moving so you can look up at him, “I know, and I’m sure she knows too, but with how much energy you have I’m surprised there isn’t any sign of a physical toll on your body, will you please, for my sake, allow her to at least examine your energy tolerance?”

He scoffs, “As if she’ll be able to resist poking around my scars like they’re any of her business, doctors just can’t resist that sort of shit,” You rest a hand over one of the more prominent scars on his chest, one that looks suspiciously like it was caused by some sort of whip, and gently implore him, “Will you allow it if I am present? If I forbid her from anything more?”

“Only if you order me, Princess,” He spits, pulling back and swinging his feet to the floor until he’s sat on the edge of the bed, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. You push yourself up on one hand, the other adjusting the strap of your nightgown, “Ryomen,” You murmur, “I will not order you around like a dog, you are my husband and you are, as you said, a human,”

You shuffle closer until you can rest your head on his shoulder, pressing a small kiss to his neck, “If there is something you’re afraid of her, or me, seeing, then just tell me that is the reason and I will order her to let it go,” He pulls further away from you, standing and leaving the bedside, taking his warmth with him.

“Ryomen will you look at me!” You shout. It startles him and you feel a slash of his energy cut past your cheek. It stings for a moment before going numb, you ignore it as he turns to look at you, “I will not have you acting like a child, if you want somewhere to be angry that badly then I will send you to the place my brother died to fight in his place, is that what you want?”

You realise your words are going straight over his head, his eyes wide and yet strangely empty, and a strange warmth on your leg makes you look down in shock. The sheets beneath you are stained with pools of liquid scarlet, your nightgown no better, you lift your hand to your cheek only for it to come away warm and wet.

“I knew this would happen,” He covers your cheek with a hand and a comforting sensation flows through your face, which is still slack with shock.

The door slams open and you sense your royal guard and royal sorcerer as they stumble past one another into the room. “My lady, I sensed royal blood, are you-?” Gojo stops talking suddenly, straightens up as he sees the state of the sheets, “O-oh…” “Step away from the Princess you cursed monster!”

Geto steps towards Ryomen, causing you to finally snap out of your shock, putting yourself between them again, “Will you please just stop, Geto!” You beg, “I am sending Ryomen to live in the sorcerer’s tower while he learns to control his energy, now let this stupid obsession with my husband's actions go or you’ll become a permanent employ of Satoru Gojo’s personal guard!”

The air is thick with tension and you step out of Ryomen’s space, your nightgown awkwardly sticking to your thighs with the remnant blood. You take a few deep breaths, fists clenched, letting your eyes flutter shut as you reach out with your mind and summon your maids. Geto still has not backed down by the time they arrive, “My lady, what is it you need?”

Tentative eyes dart between the three men, all silent and in various forms of quiet observation or contemplation. “Good, will you please see to my bedsheets, and draw me a bath, I wish to remove this blood,” The group of women begin bustling around the room, heads down as they skirt around the men.

“Well?” You ask, mild annoyance filling your tone, “Are we done here? Or are you going to continue this pointless battle of wits in my bedroom among my maids for the foreseeable future?” “Of course not my lady, I will see you later Ryomen, I trust you will be quite the eager student!”

Gojo grabs Geto by the elbow and drags him out of the room, surprisingly strong for someone so skinny, and Ryomen stalks into the connected dressing room, leaving you alone to be exhaustedly shepherded to the bathtub and stripped of your bloody nightgown.

~

What makes a king, a king?

Is it respect? Power? Strength?

You’ll get different answers wherever you go, but one thing is always the same.

The ability to protect. The willingness to protect.

If you’re a king and your people feel you cannot protect them, then what is your purpose?

What do you become but a link in the chains of destruction?

If you do not hold respect and love for your people, then you don’t have a people at all.

Stories passed down through generations speak of kingdoms risen through bloodshed and destroyed under the weight of foolish kings and shallow pride.

Will yours join the ever growing list?

Will you allow your anger to come before your people?

Of course you will, for it is all you’ve ever known.

But who will pay the price for this?

Who’s blood will be spilled in the end?

One thing is for sure, written so deeply in the threads of fate.

You won’t be alive to see.

Also don't be afraid to comment or message if you want to be tagged, or if you want me to write a separate oneshot or scenario or something, my requests are open!

Part 6 here

Taglist: @love-jelly

[buckrecs]

2022 Bucky Barnes Fic Rec 5

masterlist | req masterlist

All of them are COMPLETE Series.

✨ - fav fics

Status - Completed

1. I Remember All of Them by @tuiccim

Bucky x Agent!Reader

After Hawkeye’s retirement, you are assigned to the Avengers as the new sharpshooter. You form a special friendship with Bucky but when friends turn to lovers Bucky suddenly turns cold. Were you just another conquest of Bucky Barnes’ or was something deeper at play?  

2. Eye For An Eye by @sinner-as-saint

CEO!Bucky x Reader

Battered and bruising, Y/N is out to seek sweet revenge from a man, James Buchanan Barnes, who tore her family apart 10 years ago. Y/N’s plan was simple; infiltrate his life, mess with his head, toy with his heart and leave him broken. Headstrong, she will stop at nothing, not even when it comes down to her being the villain in her own story...

3. Little Lavender Friend by @thepsychewrites

Roommate!Bucky x Reader AU

The stories and encounters you and Bucky face as roommates, best friends, and eventual lovers.

4. Tempestuous by @sinner-as-saint

King!Bucky x Reader

With his kingdom flourishing in peace, and no threats from enemies; recently crowned King - James Buchanan Barnes sets out at sea. With his finest ship, the best crew ever recruited, and a deep desire to see whether the edge of the world truly exists; the King sets sail. Hoping to find the marvels of the ocean, to find beauty and magic even; however he ends up finding a fiery soul – one he cannot get enough of. But then again, no love story is ever perfect, is it?

5. Can’t Fight the Feeling by @sidepartskinnyjeans✨

Bucky x Agent!Reader

After the second snap the world rejoices at the return of their friends and family. But for the Avengers their home is destroyed. Steve and Tony move the homeless Avengers back to the Avengers Tower. With only a few usable floors they're paired up to support each other from the shock of returning and the changing world. Some are happier with their room allocation than others. Can you and Bucky make it work?

6. Nothing to Despair by @bvccy

Soft!Dark!Bucky x Reader

Bucky and a girl he never met before have to go undercover as married on a mission to Europe. He feels alienated in the modern world, while she goes through life alone and abandoned. Maybe they can find a new home in each other, but she’s not easily convinced.

7. Soldat by @the-fallen-nightmare

Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader, Slight Steve Rogers x Reader

Captain America and Reader have worked together at SHIELD for over a year. What happens when they have a run in with The Winter Solider and Steve finds out the secret Reader had been hiding from him all this time? And what happens when reader is captured by Hydra and The Winter Soldier, again. Can she make Soldat remember her or is her life with Steve just a slow fading memory now?  

+ Soldat Trilogy

8. pansies, pain and other things about bucky | sex and sage flowers by @bucky-bucket-barnes

Bucky x Enhanced!Reader (2 parts)

You and Bucky are begrudgingly paired on a mission together. This is less than ideal considering neither of you are too keen on the other tagging along. All goes as normal until a surprise attack severely hurts both of you. Feeling incredibly guilty, Bucky helps you tend to your wounds. He has trouble admitting it, but he wants to make sure you’re safe.

9. Mr. Grumpy by @holylulusworld

Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Bucky hates omegas. You change his mind.

10. Picture Perfect by @writingsoftheloser ✨

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

When Steve asks his collegue to be his fake girlfriend, she accepts, thinking nothing could really go wrong. Then, she meets Steve’s best friend.

11. Show Me Love by @lenavonschweetz

Professor!Bucky x Reader

Where sex-on-legs Dr. Barnes is your History professor that makes it impossible to pay attention in class.  Perhaps it’s the danger of it all, but god help you - you can’t stay away.

12. Siege of the Heart by @world-of-aus

Chubby!Bucky x Reader

With a ring burning a hole in his desk, bucky begins to have second thoughts

14. Bucky Barnes | 2 by @assembletheimagines

Dad!Bucky x Reader (2 Parts)

Bucky Barnes, the winter soldier, a ghost story, deadly assassin and-

15. All We See by @kiritella

Bucky x Reader

You’re the person Bucky goes to for a breath of fresh air, the one who’s smile is the brightest, the one that has the softest voice.  You are sweet and kind, something he is falling for a little more every day, but you have someone, and he respects it...what happens when he finds out your special someone turns out to be a monster you can’t seem to get away from?

16. Deception by @avecra

Mob!Bucky x Stark!Reader

Growing up in the dark business your father ran, violence wasn’t new to you. Rivalries and bloodbaths were something you unfortunately were used to. And in order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.

17. Радость моя (+7 series) by @assembletheimagines

Dad!Bucky x Reader

Bucky being a dad.

18. The Light We Lost by @world-of-aus

Mob!Bucky x Reader

James Buchanan Barnes had been it for you, and you wanted to believe that what the two of you had, was you making it. You wanted to be the other side of the statistics that actually made it, but your marriage wasn’t meant for this life. You fought hard to make your way back to him, to get him to see you, but life had a funny way of kicking you down when you were already down.

19. Typo by @shurisneakers ✨

Doctor!Bucky x Reader Social Media AU*

What happens when he texts the wrong number and suddenly there are memes and friendships involved.

*I’m not sure if I should put this as Social Media AU so tell me if I’m wrong plz😅

20. Bucky and the Bed by @that-damn-girl

Bucky x Agent!Reader

You and Bucky are stranded in the middle of a snowy nowhere when there is an 'electronic blackout' during your mission. With no back ups or any way to contact your team, you take refuge from the worsening weather in the only cabin you find  in miles. Not to mention, with no power, Bucky's become your personal heater and there's only one bed.

21. drifting by @real-jane

Bucky x Reader

bucky saves the life of a woman when she's buried in an avalanche. faced with the possibility that his cover might be blown, bucky must keep the woman alive, and try to keep her from finding out who he is... or what he's done.

22. My Favorite Flower by @theyoutubedork

Bucky x Florist!Reader (2 Parts)

Bucky goes to your floral shop to get flowers for all the unsuccessful dates he’s been on. Soon, he only goes to buy flowers for an excuse to see you.

23. Misfire by @shurisneakers ✨

Bucky x Reader

The four times Bucky tries to ask you out and fails.

24. Project V by @babyboibucky

Bucky x Reader College AU

You ask your best friend Bucky a favor of a lifetime.

25. The Only Exception by @whitestarbucky

Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU

Humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves. A lesson that taunted Bucky Barnes his whole life. Perhaps it was why he refused to believe in it. He couldn’t afford to. Then you came into his life to challenge his fears to their deepest degrees, not once, but twice. Whether he liked it or not.

26. Untouchable by @dreamwritesimagines ✨

40’s Bucky x Reader

What happens when Bucky Barnes falls in love with someone he shouldn’t have?  

27. I Want to Hold Your Hand by @thismustbefakeme

Bucky x Reader

Set after TFATWS. Reader is part of the Newly appointed Captain America's growing team. Reader has had a crush on Bucky and vice versa. When they finally admit their feelings...shenanigans ensue.

28. obsidian by @bentobarnes

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

you and bucky lead a peaceful life after the big battle with thanos but what happens when one day everything starts getting a little big stranger?

29. home for the holidays by @classylo

Roommate!Bucky x Reader

your mom had been pestering you for weeks about coming home for thanksgiving and bringing along the boyfriend you've kept secret for so long...

30. 10 Signs an Introvert Likes You by @andyl394 ✨

Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Bucky wasn’t the type of guy to show his feelings and neither were you the one to notice subtle things, until you come across this video; A guidance that may help you discover rather The Winter Soldier likes you or not.

31. Blink Twice by @simmerandwrite

Bucky x Reader

It was just an undetermined amount of time in a safehouse with a stranger: Bucky “I didn’t come here to make friends” Barnes himself. Would it really be all that different from your lonely life with your cat in the city? Bucky was basically a cat, anyway. He was quiet on his feet, only really made noise when it was dinner time, and you both seemed to just coexist without acknowledging each other. His mandate was to keep you safe. What could go wrong?

32. face the sun by @buckys-darling

King!Bucky x Queen!Reader Royal AU

To ensure the prosperity of their two kingdoms, a determined Princess and reluctant King are to be wed. She is willing to commit, but he can’t seem to let his lover go.

33. Don’t Say Anything by @cumonbucky

Bucky x Reader

You finally decide to tell Bucky that you’ve been in love with him since the day you met but what happens when you walk in on him with a girl? And not just any girl; Natasha.

34. Love At First Grade by @buckysimp101

Single Dad!Bucky x Single Mom!CEO!Reader

When father and first grade teacher Bucky Barnes ends up with Avery L/N in his class, the daughter of the “ruthless” CEO of L/N Enterprises, he's in for a surprise that's sure to change his life.

35. Seventy Years by @writingcroissant

Bucky x Reader

You were with Steve in the Hydra Valkyrie when it crashed into the Arctic. 70 years later you wake up in an entirely new world and have to find out a few heartbreaking details from your past. It’s hard to find your bearings in the world that’s so different than the one you’re used to and just as you think you finally managed to find your way back, a certain someone unexpectedly returns. But he’s not the guy you used to love.

36. The Friendly Wager by @justsomebucky ✨

Chef!Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet  another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical  weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there  more on the line than reader cares to admit?  

37. Love or Hate by @justsomebucky

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

When the reader’s shot at a better life is stolen from her, she  continues to see the person responsible all over town. Will she learn that there’s a fine line between  love and hate?  

38. all you need by @traitorjoelite

Publisher!Bucky x Author!Reader

just after finishing college and your first novel, you meet bucky barnes - a friend of a friend, a publisher, and hopefully something more

39. Bucky’s Got Game | Doc’s Got Game by @real-jane ✨

Bucky x Doctor!Reader (2 Parts)

Bucky's got a crush, and Sam's a little worried about whether or not he's gonna see it to fruition.

40. The Holiday Hack by @gogolucky13

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.

41 The Quest For Love by @sgtjbuccky

Bucky x Reader Modern AU

Work has always been a priority for Bucky, leaving things like love long forgotten, and for him it’s no problem, but for Sam and Steve it is the biggest problem to grace this earth. Fed up with Bucky and his constants protest and avoidance of love, they set him up on a series of dates to find the girl of his dreams with the help of the magical spirit of December. Only for Bucky to realize that love isn’t always found where one goes looking for it, but may be close by.  

[creative-frequency]

Astarion x Reader: Contradictions and Other Counter-Measures Ch.2

Summary: Spending some drowsy time by the campfire with Astarion. Word count: 1417

Previous chapter

CHAPTER 2: Introductions

Yours is an odd party.

A githyanki warrior – an outright pleasure to be around if one enjoys the looming threat of decapitation, both physical and verbal.

A shady cleric, who feigns ignorance when asked more about.

A posh high elf, who claims to be a magister from Baldur’s Gate. You met briefly on the night of your grand escape from the city, but don’t really know anything about him – except that he is unfairly beautiful.

And yourself. As far as the others know, you’re just the unluckiest sorcerer alive who happened to be visiting the city during the nautiloid attack.

All four of you are sitting around the campfire, exhausted and wary, weighing between asking or sharing more and how much to trust and say. By some degree of a miracle or insane luck, no one is injured after the day spent exploring the wilds and the campsite spot seems to be relatively safe.

“So,” Astarion begins, because of course it’s him who has to break the weary silence. “Anyone feeling like this will be our last tentacle-less night?”

The already familiar “Tch,” comes from Lae’zel. She is the driving force in your group and usually she is driving her sword through anyone’s chest who happens to stand in your way. The githyanki warrior isn’t one for idle chatting.

Your gaze wanders around the group. It is only fair that they don’t know much about you, just as you know next to nothing about them. Still, you can’t help the feeling that it will take a while to find the cure for your shared tadpole issue and in the meanwhile you’ll be travelling together. It would be for the best to start making friends.

“Would be a shame if it was the last,” you reply to Astarion as neither of the ladies seem to be in the mood for a casual chat.

“Shame? Our orifices should be bleeding and our skin sundering already,” Lae’zel says menacingly. “Although, the night is still young.”

Everyone else shares an uneasy look.

“Come morning, we need to find a way to the nearest Crèche,” Lae’zel continues.

Shadowheart scoffs. “You keep saying that, but how is that our best option?” she asks.

“My people have been fighting the ghaik for aeons. We are hardly the first ones to be infected. There are protocols for this,” Laezel explains, annoyance shining through each carefully chosen word.

“We can decide our next move in the morning,” you suggest before the two continue their ceaseless arguing. They’ve been at it for the better part of the day, ever since you helped Lae’zel escape the goblin trap.

“Fine,” Lae’zel says, “but I trust you will agree this is our only possible course of action.”

Shadowheart rolls her eyes and gets up without saying another word. She is the first to retire for the night.

Lae’zel leaves soon after and you’re left sitting on a log next to the pretty, pale elf. Now that you’re alone, you become very aware of his presence next to you. You shuffle slightly further away.

“They seem to be becoming fast friends,” Astarion remarks.

You snort in a very unladylike manner. “Can’t wait to wake up in the middle of the night to watch them scrap it out.”

Both of the mentioned parties keep their tent flaps closed. The nights so far have been dry but cool, but the campfire is the only source of warmth in the middle of the woods and you’re reluctant to leave its area of effect to rest.

Absent minded, you stare into the dancing flames of the campfire and pull up the old family ring that is kept attached to a necklace. The intricate surface has darkened during the years from the lack of proper care.

“I see you never actually got rid of the ring” Astarion says and you almost drop the said item.

“Oh right, you saw it back then…” you mumble.

It’s been over five years so the details of that night are hazy at best. When thinking of your escape, your first thought is the oppressive feeling of being chased, but right after that there is also the burst of excitement, sourced by the looming freedom.

You would never tell it to Astarion, but you have sometimes wondered what became of the beautiful curly-haired elf from the tavern. And now he is here, very much sharing the largest mess you’ve ever been in your life. The tadpole hums in your head, reminding you of its presence.

“Tell me, which noble family are you from?” Astarion questions, though he doesn’t really seem interested in the answer.

“First name basis not enough for you?” you quip and run your thumb across the family crest on the ring.

“Darling, I’ve seen the headlines and that crest. I am only asking out of courtesy,” he says.

Your mood sinks. Of course you would happen to run into someone who recognises you as a noble. Knowing that Astarion is a magister in the city, it shouldn’t be a surprise that he is familiar with family crests and reads newspapers.

You draw in a long breath and sigh. “So you already know I’m a Caldwell.”

“‘The disappearance of the patriar’s daughter’ – it’s everyone’s favourite mystery,” Astarion recites with a short chuckle and paints the headline into the air in flourish motions.

“I’m sure it is, but please don’t tell the others. I’ll… tell them when the time is right,” you plead in a hushed tone.

Astarion bows slightly. “Your secret is safe with me, my lady.”

He jests, but it still makes you smile. Reasons to smile have been few and far between during the last day.

“Thank you, though I think I like ‘potato sack woman’ better,” you say. It was the first thing that slipped out of the elf’s mouth when he recognised you at the beach.

“I’m sure you do. Why did you leave Baldur’s Gate in the first place?” Astarion asks, more curious towards the answer to this question.

“Who wouldn’t love it here instead of the noisy city?” you retort and drop the ring in its chain back underneath your shirt.

Astarion scoffs. “You traded balls and gold goblets for this? Unbelievable. Yours is one of those stories the Mouth digs up whenever they have nothing else to write about.”

“Hm. How nice of them. Maybe I’ll tell you the real reason later.” You used to hate having secrets, but this one you’ve been carrying for so long that it’s already an instinct to dodge all personal questions.

“Alright. I’ll hold on to that promise,” Astarion says slowly with an inspecting – or maybe it’s suspicious – look.

“What about you? How are you adjusting?” you ask in turn. As a magister he must be used to a more comfortable lifestyle.

Astarion sighs and turns to gaze at the stars. “I admit, resting in the dirt is a little novel.” If you didn’t know better, you could say he sounds almost excited.

“It has a certain charm to it, doesn’t it?” you smile and a yawn forces its way out right after the words.

“Indeed. But you should get some rest,” Astarion says gently, “I’ll keep watch tonight.” 

Your brows raise at the thoughtful offer. If anything, you would’ve thought he would be the first one to declare that night watch duties are far beneath him.

“Thank you, Astarion, though I’m not sure if I’ll be able to sleep any time soon,” you reply, feeling pleasantly drowsy and warm thanks to the crackling campfire and numbness from the exhausting day. Maybe you wouldn’t mind spending time talking with someone who shares these recent odd experiences, but it’s getting difficult to think in complete sentences. You should really go to your bedroll.

Astarion seems to be scooting closer to you with an impossibly charming grin on his perfect lips. The perceptive eyes take in your drooping form. In a passing thought you wonder why isn’t he as tired as the rest of your group.

Astarion hums quietly: “Well, if you want to spend time with me, you only need to say so.”

Some amount of clarity and consciousness returns to you with a flush of abashment.

“What? Uhh, I’m off to bed…” you stumble to reply, promptly standing up and your jammed brain is wondering did you hear the elf correctly or are you just half-asleep.

“Whatever you say, my dear. Now off with you,” Astarion says with a little laugh.

You definitely heard him right.

-

Next chapter

My Writing Masterlist

[project-sekai-facts]

do u know anything cool about the side characters i feel like they need more appreciation and more people to know about them.

my time has come (<- i really like the side characters)

because i don't own the fanbooks, and cannot find scans of them anywhere, this is all from memory or stuff written on the wiki or tvtropes. also characters who debuted physically in the last year (e.g Asahi, Mafuyu's mother, Arisa) won't have fanbook profiles yet, so i can only tell you what's mentioned in the story

so yeah some random trivia (a lot about favorite foods because all the side characters have that listed)

Leo/need

Iori and Mio are both 19 years old (currently)

Iori's favorite food is choco-banana crepes and she dislikes spicy food

Mio likes super spicy tantanmen ramen but dislikes fresh cream. She also collects teddy bears

neither Iori or Mio were ever given family names. This might mean that the names used in the story are stage names.

Youta is the same age as Leo/need (16). His younger sister Hanano is 14.

Saku is currently 16, the same age as the Leo/need members, and her family name is Kousaka

She's the singer and composer of her band, Anenome. They debuted professionally a few weeks prior to the Get Over It. event

When Shindou was younger, he was a bassist in a band with some school friends. He and the singer/guitarist were more skilled than the others, and were scouted for a different band. Shindou didn't want to quit because he wanted to be in a band with his friends, but the singer/guitarist quit and accepted the offer because his music would have more spread. In the end Shindou's band had to disband, and he doesn't know what happened to the guy that left.

MORE MORE JUMP!

Mai's favorite food is eclairs and she dislikes liver. She is also 15 years old currently

Yuina was the first side character to be shown with more than one outfit. Her live2D has a different outfit to the one in Minori's For "Your" Sake card

Yuina's hobby is handicraft, and she also plays basketball

Yuina's favorite food is potato croquette and she dislikes bok choy

Airi and Nanamin did a collab performance when they were both idols. They are the same age.

Nanamin has now retired as an idol and is currently a streamer with over 800 thousand subscribers. She likes fruit tarts and dislikes wasabi.

Riho is a high school first year (16) and is active as a song producer on the in-universe version of youtube

Riho's favorite food is pudding and she doesn't like hard and crumbly bread

Ayaka is 20 years old and attends college. She’s a big fan of Shizuku. She likes pork cutlets and doesn't like oysters.

Vivid BAD SQUAD

Ken likes meat dishes and dislikes umeboshi

He says he fell in love with his wife, Yuka, at first sight. They met in college and they've been married for over 20 years.

We don't know how old Yuka is but Ken is 43

Ken was a really good student and had good grades in both academics and sports. He also attended and graduated college.

Ken is very aware of An's feelings towards Kohane and is supportive of her. Go Ken-san

He was RADder's designated driver back in the day

Taiga dropped out of high school

Taiga likes whiskey but dislikes tsubuan

He is referref to as “partner” in the game data

Ken and Taiga have known each other since middle school. He thought Ken being an academic was boring and decided to get him into street music

Nagi had anemia. It's implied this is part of the reason she didn't realise she had cancer until it was too late, because she thought she felt bad because her anemia was playing up

Nagi's least favorite food was tomato, just like An. She liked coffee as well.

Arata's favorite foods are omelet rice and chocolate parfait, and his least favorite food is natto.

As pointed out by Taiga, Arata is one of the most talented performers on Vivid Street. Taiga seems to see himself in Arata, and relates to the feeling of losing a partner and can identify Arata’s weaknesses based on this

I’m not entirely sure if this is true, but based on observation Souma’s Live2D model has restricted movement. He doesn't lift his arms in any of his animations, only does small movements with them and his legs hardly move if at all. I'm assuming this is to convey that he was partially paralysed in the traffic accident

Both Souma and Arata are currently 19

Also their duo act nane was Gurney Flaps. Souma was the one who came up with that.

Souma and Arata were friends for an unknown amount of time before Rad Weekend. They may have been doing street music before the event I can't remember if this is ever mentioned.

Souma was involved in a traffic accident not long after he and Arata decided to surpass RW. He mentions that the accident was before Weekend Garage opened, and it's been open for a couple years at this point, because Ken decided to buy and open the cafe not long after the event.

Also they get a shoutout on KAITO’s costume from the Walk on and on event

Also I literally just learnt that the EN server localises Souma's name as Soma.

Even though he looks pretty old, Harumichi Aoyagi is only 53

Inferred based on his house, but he’s really rich as well. I think the Aoyagis might live in a penthouse, if you look at the window of their living room you can see the tops of trees.

Kotaro is called “cord nukio” in the game data, referring to him disconnecting the sound system during Vivids’ debut

He has a younger brother, and the reason he got into singing is because he wanted to be a cool big brother. He saw RW around the time his brother was born and the rest is history

Kotaro is 17, and presumably a high school second year (since first year side characters are 16). I’m guessing her doesn’t attend kamikou otherwise that probably would’ve been mentioned by now

His favorite food is strawberries. Ironically, he doesn’t like strawberry-flavored things.

Tatsuya is 22, making him the oldest NPC who isn’t a parent or mentor

He got into singing after being inspired by a senior in high school

WonderlandsxShowtime

Kigurumi-san is a rabbit. Please tell me how that is a rabbit costume.

According to Rui in Full Power! Wonder Halloween!, Kigurumi-san's hiding spot is a bush near the wonder stage. It is heavily implied that he is Emu's bodyguard.

Usa-chan (the bunny plushie) is the only NPC to have ever appeared in an area conversation

Usa-chan's name was picked by Saki. Tsukasa wanted to give her a weird name, but we don't know what this was.

Sakurako has been a fan of PXL since she was a kid, and getting to perform there has always been a dream of hers. Also she’s 17 (the same age as Rui and Tsukasa)

Sakurako is called “diva” in the game data

Her favorite food is roll cake and she dislikes konjac.

The Little Mermaid was Yuuka Kazamatsuri’s first ever leading role. She’s 31 now, so she was 21 at the time.

Yuuka's favorite food is deepfried horse mackerel. Her least favorite food is fish and chips, because she thought it would be horse mackerel. It was not.

Rakunosuke (Emu's grandpa)'s favorite food was taiyaki, the same as Emu. He disliked surströmming.

Rakunosuke died when he was 99 years old. Considering that Emu’s father is currently 55, that means he didn’t have kids until he was in his 40s (unless Emu has older aunts/uncles that aren’t mentioned).

Kounosuke's favorite food is candy apples and he doesn't like sugary candies

Keisuke and Shousuke are referred to as Little Keisuke and Little Shousuke in flashbacks to Emu’s childhood, even if they are probably university-aged in these flashbacks. I just think this is funny

Keisuke is 30. He likes dried horse mackerel and dislikes chocolate.

Emu mentions that one time when her family went on a beach holiday Keisuke took an encyclopedia about sea life with him. Maybe he has an interest in that?

Shousuke is 3 years younger than Keisuke. He likes corndogs and dislikes green peppers.

Hinata is 20 and is currently in college. Her favorite food is peaches. Like Emu, she doesn't have a least favorite food.

If it wasn't obvious at this point the Otoris all like theme park food. Except for Keisuke.

Jean Riley is the in-universe equivalent to Walt Disney. He's also still alive and only 54 years old.

25-ji, Nightcord de.

Mrs Asahina doesn’t appear physically until someone other than Mafuyu interacts with her (that being Kanade at the end of Immiscible Discord)

Also she frequently employs actual manipulation techniques - she is in complete control of her meeting with Kanade, she rarely disagrees with anyone and instead gives them suggestions (i.e “but wouldn’t X be better for you?” over “no i think you should do X”), and playing victim. Wonder how she learnt those.

Honestly we really don’t know that much about her

Mafuyu’s dad doesn’t show up that much but he can be seen in some family photos in the Asahina living room

Shin’ei Shinonome’s hobby is camping with his family

He has the same liked and disliked food as his children

Also he’s 48 years old

None of the photos in the Shinonome living room actually look like the family so god knows what Mrs Shinonome looks like

Mrs Shinonome puts carrots in the dinners she cooks to encourage her kids to try the things they don’t like

Futaba is 17 years old. Her favorite food is pancakes from a local shop, and she doesn’t like salty food

Mizuki’s sister studies fashion abroad. She gifted Mizuki one of her mannequins before she left, which can be seen in Mizuki’s room

Kanade’s mother died when she was 30 years old. Her favorite food was deepfried tofu, and she didn’t like goya.

Kanade’s mother liked gardening. She was fond of carnations and used to keep them around the house, which is why Kanade has a strong attachment to those flowers.

Kanade's dad is currently 46. We don't know how old Kanade was when her mother died but it still works out that he's a few years older than his wife.

Bonus: As the self-proclaimed #1 slash only Asahi fan here's my obligatory Asahi loredump

Sakurako and Asahi are friends, though they have never interacted on-screen

Asahi's not-Disneyland theme park actor career somehow managed to spin-off into him appearing in TV and film roles. It's also mentioned that he's worked at ArcLand for a long time

Asahi is a huge fan of WxS, and is very familiar with their work before he meets them. It's implied he became a fan through the show they perform in Wonder Magical Showtime!. His favorite character in that show was Tsukasa's character, Miles. Like, he really likes that character.

It’s implied that he likes Tsukasa. I have made two posts about this. I think this is a lot funnier than it actually is.

We don't have a confirmed age for him yet, but considering that he's friends with Sakurako and the way he interacts with Rui and Tsukasa, he's probably around the same age as those three (17). How young was he when he started working at ArcLand in that case?

Assuming he’s high school-aged, I think he straight up dropped out of school (high school is not compulsory in Japan). When he recruits Rui he says that since he’s good, they can get him up to a full-time job before the age of 18, and Rui realises this would require him to pull out of school. The way Asahi talks about this seems to imply that he already did this.

He keeps a notebook in his pocket when he practises. He notes down useful things about the performances he does and also notes about the people he performs with. He also people-watches because it helps him make characters act more like real people.

He's a huge fan of the director Tom Grey, one of Rui's major influences, and claims to have watched all of his works 100 times. Grey is the person who inspired Asahi to become an actor. The shared interest is a large part of why Asahi invites Rui to be the ArcLand director

Asahi grew up abroad because of his parents' work, but the country he lived in ended up getting involved in a war. The area he lived in was attacked and his family had to evacuate, but he got separated from his parents when they were running away. He didn't speak the country's language very well since he was very young, and couldn't communicate with the people at the evacuation centre to locate his family. Tom Grey happened to be volunteering there, since he lived in the neighbouring country, and met Asahi and helped cheer him up and find his parents.

He’ll be back. That'll be a fun event.

[604to647]

The Wedding, Part 2 (Safest with You AU)

2K / Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: The follow up to this drabble; Din comes home after the wedding.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Honestly, this is just porn. Oops. Pet names as usual (Pretty bird, baby, bunny, etc.), established relationship, smut, dirty talk, slight degradation (slut/whore/cumslut), slight daddy kink, unprotected PiV sex, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, a little ass play. Like I said, OOPS.

A/N: I know in the "main" fic, these two are currently apart, so I had to write them together somehow 🤷🏻‍♀️ hence, this filth was born. (Actually, I feel like writing smut is one of those things that you have to practice? I don't know if anyone else feels the same. So... I practiced 😂)

Din opens the door quietly, stepping into the dark apartment, careful not to disturb you should you be sleeping.  Al comes over with a wagging tail, and Din greets him with some loving scratches; when the dog, satisfied, trots back to his bed and plops down, that’s when Din sees you laying on the couch, asleep, still wearing your dress from the wedding.

Taking off his shoes, Din pads over silently to you; crouching by your head, he lightly runs his fingers through your hair before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.  You rouse with a soft moan, “Din.”  It’s not a question, but a testament to the familiarity and desire for the mouth that just kissed you.  You blink your sleepy eyes, quickly waking to the sight of the handsome man before you, “I’ve been waiting for you, baby.” You check him over quickly, “Was everything okay at the venue?”

Din’s heart swells and he hopes he never takes your considerate nature for granted, “Totally fine.  Just a couple of kids who drank too much.  No trouble at all.” You smile, relieved.

Standing, Din holds out his hand, “Come now, pretty bird.  I made some promises tonight that I plan on fulfilling.”  Propping yourself up on your elbows, you find yourself face to face with Din’s crotch, and you can see the outline of his cock, semi-hard and ready for you. Having been fully worked up during the wedding, neither your nor Din’s want for the other has dampened over the past few hours apart. You hook two fingers into his dress pant pockets and pull him closer, then use that same hand to run over his crotch when it’s next to your face. Cupping him gently, you feel Din’s cock jump a little at your touch.  You lean in, nuzzling his dick against your cheek, mouth already salivating, and look up at Din with pleading eyes.  Din already wrecked though you’ve barely touched him, croaks, “Go on then, sweetheart.”

Eagerly, you undo his belt and pants, tugging his pants and boxers down in one go; Din’s cock springs free and slaps lightly against your lips causing you to moan and you feel yourself clenching down around nothing.  You will never get used to his size; no matter how many times you take him in your hand, your mouth, your cunt, you are always awed when you come face to face with Din’s leaking cock.  Wrapping one hand around the base and giving Din a few light strokes, you hold Din’s gaze with your bambi eyes, and alternate between tapping the swollen head on your tongue and giving it some light kitten licks.

“Bunny,” Din warns.

Giving Din one last look of innocence, you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before starting to rhythmically bob up and down his length.  With each pass, you take a little more of him, until your nose is pressed against the hairs on his groin and you hum in pride and satisfaction.   As your mouth vibrates around him, Din’s knees buckle slightly; growling, “Such a good mouth on you, baby,” as he places one hand gently on the back of your head.  Some days, Din likes it when you want him to fuck your throat, but tonight he’s content to have you do what you want with your warm mouth and tongue, his hand on your head only to affectionately pull on your hair the way you like.

As you feel Din’s light grip in your hair, you moan again. Hallowing your cheeks, you start to increase the pressure of your mouth, swirling your tongue on the underside of Din’s throbbing cock as you move your mouth up his length, and giving his tip a purposeful flick in your mouth every time you reach the peak.  You feel so good around him, Din can’t wait to touch you any longer.  He reaches over with his free hand and finds the slit of your dress, slipping his hand in and inching up your thighs until his fingers meet the wetness of your lace underwear and he starts stroking you over the fabric.  The steady pressure on your clit is beyond exquisite, and when the pleasure becomes too much, you gasp and suck Din’s cock deep down your throat a final time before coming off of him with a pop.

Din hauls you up by your underarms, and pulls you tight against him with one arm, mouth attacking yours. His other hand on your face, tenderly wiping away your spit and tears, even as his mouth ravages you.  He walks you backwards around the couch, mouth never leaving yours, until suddenly with no warning, he spins you around with unfathomable sped and bends you over the back of the couch, kicking open your legs in one smooth motion.  You feel your dress being flipped up over your back so that your entire backside is exposed.

“Pretty bird, how wet are you?” Din asks in a low voice from somewhere behind you.

Still breathless from having been maneuvered into this position without warning, you sigh, “I’m so wet, daddy.  Been dripping for you for hours, ever since I walked into that wedding.  Please, baby, I need you so bad.”

You know Din has knelt down behind you because the next time he speaks, you can feel his breath fan over your ass, “I don’t know, bun.  I think you could be wetter.”  You look over your shoulder and see Din smirking as he slides your panties down your legs, helping you step one foot out but leaving the black lacy scrap to dangle off the other ankle.  Using his thumbs, he spreads your folds, and blowing out a soft breath, purrs, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.  Need to taste you and get you soaking wet for my cock, okay, pretty bird?”

Even before hearing your moan of assent, Din dives into you like a man possessed.  His tongue, mouth and nose, all somehow working your hole, his face pushed so deep against your core that you have to widen your stance to accommodate his broad shoulders.  Din sucks and licks and bears down on you over and over as he rubs his entire face over your pussy; the wet sounds of him being drenched in your arousal muffled by how close he is pressed against you, and further drowned out by your whines of pleasure above him.

Din lifts himself away from your cunt only slightly so he can use two fingers to spread your wetness all over, even making a slick trail to your other hole, which he circles lightly a few times before returning to push his fingers all the way into your pussy.  You let out a wanton moan from the thick intrusion, “Yes, fuck daddy.  You feel so good, thank you for stretching this little slut out.”

Turned on by your dirty talk, Din speeds up his fingers and then moves underneath to suck on your clit, knowing that will push you over the edge.  Your wails are becoming more incoherent as you climb closer and closer to your climax, “Holy fu-, Din.  Din.  Din.  Please, give it to me.  Giv-Gi--Give your dirty whore what she needs.  Fuck.  Daddy. Daddy, please, please. I need it, nghhhhhh.”

Din roughly inserts a third finger and simultaneously starts flicking your clit with his hard tongue, and you’re gone.  You arch your back, shaking and grabbing onto the back of the couch with both hands so tightly for stability your knuckles white, letting loose one last long moan while coming.

Din fucks you through it with his fingers, his other hand rubbing your ass cheek soothingly, “Such a good girl, coming so pretty and hard for me.  Now I know you’re wet enough for me cause I have you running down my arm, baby girl.”

You slump over the back of the couch, still weak from your orgasm, when you feel Din stand and envelope your body with his, the length of his rock hard cock straining against your folds as he whispers hotly in your ear, “Is my little cumslut ready to take what I give her?”

Fuck if his degrading pet names don’t turn you on as much as his sweet ones; you buck back into his crotch and practically beg, “Don’t go easy on your filthy slut, okay?”  Din snarls back and notching himself at your entrance, his thrusts forward harshly, bottoming out in one motion.  You cry out from the stretch, but also the pleasure you feel from the slight pain of taking his entire thickness in one go.  Din doesn’t let you enjoy the feeling of fullness for long, but pulls back and starts driving into you at a punishing pace.

As Din ruts into you hard, you feel yourself being pushed further into the couch backing with each thrust, soon you no longer have proper footing on the ground; first you’re lifted up onto your tip toes, and eventually your feet leave the ground entirely so that you’re just thrown like a ragdoll, folded over the back of the couch.  The couch is digging into you hip bones and you’re sure to have bruises tomorrow, but you welcome the bite of pain and squeeze Din hard when thinking about him marking you in this way.

“Shit – pussy feels so good, bunny.  You like this, getting fucked hard?  Letting your daddy throw you around and fuck you until you can’t think?”

“Nnnnmmhhhhh”, you moan, face buried in the couch pillows.

“Think you do, you dirty slut.  Love fucking you like this too, I’m the only one who gets to use this pretty pussy like this, aren’t I?”

“Yes, daddy, yes!  All yours, pussy is all yours, do whatever you want with me.  Fuck me and use me like your little cumrag. Fu—Fuck, daddy. Fuck me. Fuck me.” You’re so cock drunk right now and head cloudy from overstimulation, you can barely string together words, but every dirty, degrading word that comes out of your mouth and Din’s is pushing you closer and closer to your next high. When you feel the thumb of Din’s hand that’s gripping your ass dip into your crack and start circling and pushing against your little back hole, you moan and clench down hard on Din’s cock.  “You like that, bun?  All your holes are mine, aren’t they?  You want me to fill up all your holes one day, like the whore you are?”  His other hand presses down on your clit, just as his thumb dips in pushing past the tight muscle of your virgin hole, and you come instantly without warning, loud and hard.  The suddenness of your orgasm has Din losing control of the chase for his own, and he pounds into you harder and faster while you’re still fluttering around his cock.  With an animalistic grunt, Din comes, nearly collapsing on top of you while he paints your insides white.  You stay like this, with Din on your back, panting until you both catch your breaths.  Turning your head slightly, you find Din’s lips with yours and kiss him lovingly until he slips out of you and sets you back down on the ground; still unsteady on your feet, you hold onto the couch while Din uses the lace panties that slipped off your foot while you were airborne to clean up your combined spend from between your legs.  Once he’s done, he turns you around gently and holds you up, tight against him, kissing you with reverence, “I think they would have kicked us out if we did that at the wedding, pretty bird.”

You giggle and play with the silver rings on his fingers that have somehow managed to stay on, “That or made us get married right then and there.”  You smile up at Din, teasingly.

“Would that be so bad?” Din says softly, then laughs uproariously at your stunned expression.

Din bends and hooks his arm underneath your knees, picking you up swiftly and carrying you in the directly of the bedroom as you shriek with laughter, “Not done with you yet, pretty girl.  Remember how I said I was going to be the one to take this dress off tonight?”

[conkers-thecosy]

Bagginshield-tober / Day 1 / Breakfast

I've decided to take part in the lovely "Bagginshield-tober" prompt list by the excellent @smolestboop 💛

I've always wanted to write some reshirement stuff for Thorin and Bilbo, but never really had a definitive plot bunny for it, so this works out quite nicely! Going to keep them fairly short (although who knows what that actually means, when it comes to me and writing, lmao) but ideally all following on from one another! Hopefully they come out okay!

~*~*~

Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain for a mere nine days, all told, was getting pudgy.

It had been only six months since he had followed Bilbo Baggins to his home back in the Shire under the guise of an escort, unsure what to do with himself after his abdication. In that time he had let out his belt by two notches, and was starting to feel that he might need to purchase new clothes entirely, both for his own comfort, and for the sake of decency. Everything was decidedly tight, including his temper, as he'd had to lay back on the bed to fasten his trousers that morning.

Simmering with suppressed annoyance, Thorin entered the bright and warm kitchen to find his retired burglar already cooking up a vast and sumptuous breakfast for the two of them. He stood in the doorway, looking warily around at all the hustle and bustle, fried potatoes, ham, sausages, mushrooms, tomatoes. There was toast piled high beside the already open butter dish, where one half eaten slice was laying, slathered with strawberry preserve. Tea was being brewed, already laid out on the table with milk, sugar, and two cups and saucers, waiting with another two jars for the toast of marmalade and raspberry jam.

This was the issue. He tried to stay active, he really did. He chopped wood, he mended things about the smial, carried groceries (which was quite the undertaking given the amount of food the pair of them seemed to get through), he'd even taken to helping in Bilbo's garden, which he had found surprisingly back-breaking. Still, it wasn't enough to counteract the vast amount of meals the Hobbit seemed intent on feeding him.

He watched Bilbo from the doorway, still unnoticed by his host, and felt a little of his annoyance fade at the sight. He was humming merrily to himself, standing over the hob and frying a pan of eggs, the early morning sunlight streaming in through the window and catching the gold and copper in his hair. His small hands were delicate, but deft as he cooked with practised ease, and Thorin couldn't help but notice how radiant Bilbo looked. There had been a time when he had been deeply concerned about how small the Hobbit had grown on their journey, and to see him now filling out his clothes better, looking round and soft again as he ought, filled Thorin with a quiet sense of relief.

Just then, Bilbo turned to remove the pan from the heat, the eggs apparently now done, and saw his long-term house-guest watching him with, what was quite likely, a besotted look upon his face. Thorin straightened, feeling his cheeks heat, and cleared his throat. Before he had time to apologise, to explain, or anything really, Bilbo's eyes lit up and he smiled widely.

"Good morning!" he practically chirruped as he scooped the eggs onto the serving platter with the rest of the food. "I trust you slept well?"

"I did indeed," Thorin replied. "And yourself?"

"Very well, thank you, yes!"

It was a lie they both told one another each day. Neither of them slept well anymore. Thorin awoke often with nightmares, and from the bedroom beside him, he often heard that Bilbo suffered in much the same way. It was likely they both knew it was happening, but neither wanted to admit it to the other, and so they pretended every day that the fear, grief, heart-ache, and deep, abiding shame was nonexistent.

Suddenly Bilbo was standing right in front of him, eyes too kind, yet somehow hesitant, and Thorin wondered if perhaps the Hobbit was about to break their mutual silence on the matter. Instead he reached forward and almost absently patted Thorin's tummy with those small, deft hands he had been admiring only moments before, and smiled warmly.

"You're looking so much healthier lately, Thorin," he said, blushing gently. "I'm pleased to see it."

In the face of such honest concern and happiness, Thorin felt all of his previous annoyance melt away to nothing. Bilbo had worried for him, just as he had worried for Bilbo. What did it matter if he needed to purchase new clothes or let out his belt a little more, when the one he loved was so determined to see him along the road to recovery? It wasn't as though the physical changes to his body were a hindrance to him, and perhaps he might see about working in the smithy if he was going to stay a while yet in Bag End.

He hoped he would never have to leave, in truth, but that decision was not up to him, and not one he had felt able to broach just yet.

"Thank you," Thorin said instead, smiling gently down at Bilbo and fighting the urge to reach up and caress his slightly pink, rounded cheek. "You are looking healthier, as well."

There was a moment between them, a pull that happened more and more lately, but Bilbo only winked and stepped back. "Come along then, breakfast is getting cold. I didn't bother making porridge this morning, but if you like we can have some with fruit for second breakfast later."

Thorin smothered a chuckle as he followed Bilbo to the table as he was bid. Yes, perhaps some time working at a forge would be a good idea, after all.

[out-of-the-forest-i-come]

Running Close to the Wind Review

Running Close to the Wind comes out June 11th in the US, and June 13th in the UK, so make sure to preorder it or mark the date, because it's a gem of a book.

Pirates but make it gay and absolutely unhinged. Then take that, and make it horny and polyamorous. Congratulations, you now have Running Close to the Wind.

Avra, lucky poet and partially retired spy for Arast, accidentally stole the one trade secret most of Arast’s fortune is based on. He also accidentally reunited with Captain Tevari, a pirate with a ruthless reputation and his on-again off-again ex of the past fifteen years, who may or may not want him dead, or at the very least as far away from them as possible. To keep himself from being thrown overboard, Avra reveals to Teveri and their crew the secret he’s stolen, and together they devise a plan to sell it and make as much money off it as possible. Enters Julian, an extremely attractive monk bound by an unfortunate vow of celibacy, scholar extraordinaire and last essential piece to help them achieve their plan. Avra now has three problems on his hands: finding a way to sell the secret without being found out and killed by Arast, make up with Teveri, and convince Julian to abandon his vow of celibacy.

Forget everything you’ve just imagined about this book, forget the comparisons to Our Flag Means Death and Six of Crows, however accurate they may be, because whatever your expectations are about this book, it will blow them away. I went in with high expectations, both because of the promise of a heist like in Six of Crows, one of my favourite books ever, and because I loved A Taste of Iron and Gold, the first and only Alexandra Rowland book I’d read. Despite this, nothing had prepared me for the wild, unhinged ride that Running Close to the Wind proved to be.

Alexandra Rowland introduces us to fiery, vivid characters, whose personalities both clash and compliment one another’s. Avra could be an obnoxious and annoying character, what with his exuberant personality and endless supply of dirty jokes, but instead I found him most endearing, and it was incredibly easy to empathise with him and long for his happy ending. Similarly, Teveri’s personality could have driven me away. Instead, and partly thanks to Avra’s adoration of them, they were so easily lovable and relatable. And Julian’s wit and daunting complimented this pair so well, bringing nuance while playing into their games. This made for delicious relationships, and dynamics that had me cackling and squealing, and made me yearn for more development of their relationship, yearn to know what would happen and how it would end. From a writer’s point of view, I am admirative of Alexandra Rowland’s well-proven ability to play with a variety of characters and personalities, and render them all equally vivid and compelling, and to make readers fall for all kinds of relationships, from the calm one in A Taste of Gold and Iron to the fiery one in Running Close to the Wind.

Another thing I loved and admired was the balance between plot and character arc. This story is cleary character-led and the point of it is not so much what happens to the secret, although it is an important part of the story, as what growth the characters undergo. And grow they do. These arcs were mastered from start to end, and Alexandra Rowland found just how much of character arc and how much plot they could give us so that the story would neither feel plot-heavy nor character-heavy. This is no easy feat, but Alexandra Rowland mastered it seamlessly, and it merits some applause.

Overall, Running Close to the Wind is like no other book I’ve ever had to pleasure to read. It is wild and hilarious, and I don’t remember the last time a book made me laugh so much, but I’ll definitely remember that time. This story reads well and quickly, the worldbuilding blending it perfectly with the rest, even for those who haven’t read or don’t remember much about the worldbuilding of A Taste of Gold and Iron, set in the same world. Running Close to the Wind is a masterpiece of a story, lighthearted and yet treating serious topics without weighing down the atmosphere of the book. It is endlessly fun, surprisingly crude and dirty in its jokes, and vivid from beginning to end. Those who have loved Freya Marske’s books will most likely love this book as well, as will Alexandra Rowland’s fans and anyone interested in queer pirates. If you dislike sex-related jokes or crude language, refrain from reading this book, as it is riddled with such jokes and language—and it is what makes part of its charm.

Thank you Pan Macmillan and NetGalley for provinding me with an ARC of this book. All opinions in this review are mine and unbiased.

[arealphrooblem]

Story Masterlist/Tags

Smut and Explicit fic can now by found on my side blog: a-bigger-phrooblem

Tag breakdown on fics:

#enemies to lovers = fic with a romantic endgame

#spicy = suggestive to M rated/fade to black content. I will never post explicit smut on this blog.

#kissing = has kissing in this particular snippet

#dark = dark themes such a violence, threats, coercion ect. Typical villain stuff.

Fics

Sisyphus:

Synopsis: Hero is tired of the fight. Turns out, Villain is too.

Let Me See You Lose Control:

Synopsis: prompt fill. "Go on," the antagonist dared, eyes bright and gleaming. "Let me see you lose control."

#enemies to lovers, #spicy #kissing

Terms of Surrender -- Finished!

Synopsis: The queen of a doomed city makes the deal her husband refused to make with the conquering warlord outside her city's gates.

#enemies to lovers

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

You Could Have Just Asked

Part One Part Two

Synopsis: protagonist makes a deal with their villainous (and distant) cousin for control of the family fortune after the death of their parents

#dark #enemies to lovers #fake dating #marriage of convenience #kissing

Mutually Assured Destruction -- Finished!

Synopsis: Villain x Civilian. Civilian can sense other people's powers through auras but hides this ability. They are terrified of the most boring person at their office job, who hides the most powerful aura Civilian has ever felt.

#enemies to lovers, #dark, #spicy (part 10) #kissing

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Deathtouched -- Finished!

Synopsis: Hero, a person who's power nullifies other powers, is the only person who can touch Villain, a person who kills whatever he touches. When Villain shows up at the Agency hell bent on revenge on Supervillain, Hero is the only one who can stop him.

#enemies to lovers #kissing #dark

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Kidnapped by the Boss

synopsis: Civilian is a secretary to the Prime Minster. But when the political summit between the city states goes awry, she finds herself kidnapped by the very boss she tried to protect and nothing is what it seems.

#enemies to lovers #dark #kissing (in later chapters)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

A Goblin Bride

Synopsis: Once her sister is safely eloped and out of the Goblin King's clutches, the protagonist waits for his revenge. Things take an unexpected turn

Surrender Prompts

Synopsis: a series of prompt fills for the voluntary surrender prompts by @ wither-wander-whump Each prompt has it's own set of tags/CW. General tags are: #whump, #captivity #dark

Part One, Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Arranged Marriage Prompt fill

Prompt by the modern typewriter. #Villain x Hero #suggestive #enemies to lovers #dark

CW: vague mention of non-con (villain describing to hero what other people would do to her that he would not)

A Favor for a Favor

Synopsis: When Roxanne -- Agent name Rocket -- is back-stabbed by a friend and given a serum that drains her of her powers and leaves her helpless, she has no choice but to turn to the one person she can't trust: Her nemesis -- a politician and king of the underworld. With her powerless and in the palm of his hand, what he decides to do with her is greatly influenced by their chance meeting as teenagers that neither of them have been able to forget.

#enemies to lovers #dark villain #kissing #spicy

CW: non-consensual drugging (not by villain) sexual content, kidnapping, murder mention, named characters, male villain x female hero

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 AO3 link

Retirement

Synopsis: After years of building his criminal empire, Villain has only one desire left: to walk away, preferably with his spy and the only person he trusts.

#enemies and lovers #villain x henchman, #villain x villain #soft

A Lost Cause

Synopsis: The trusted keeper of all the Heroes' secrets, Civilian's existence is kept a tightly guarded secret itself. So how did the villain find her? And how will she withstand the attempts of his scientist to break her open and discover those secrets himself?

CW: nonconsensual drugging, medical whump, medical experimentation, mentions of wounds from torture, needles and IV insertion mention (this fic is gonn have a lot of CW)

#villain x civilian #enemies to lovers (sort of?) #dark #whump #spicy

Part one Part 2

A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find

Synopsis: Civilian has harbored a secret crush on his roommate for a long time, only to find out that said roommate is the newest villain on the scene during a robbery at his job.

CW: Death threats, knives

#enemies to lovers #villain x civilian #named characters #angsty #male x male

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

The Promise:

An officer of the Empire makes an offer of marriage to his former friend, now a rebel and his enemy, to honor an old promise they had when they were street orphans.

CW: enemies to lovers, kissing in later parts, marriage of convenience

Requests

Drowning Hero Ask

Part 2

Synopsis: Ask prompt that requested hero nearly drowning in water during villain fight and villain rescuing them

#enemies to lovers #male hero/male villain #fluffy (kind of) #kissing

Fire hero vs plant villain

CW: kidnapping, mentions of poison

Villain x Medic

CW: kidnapping

#angst