#Monégasque Princely Family

[spideyanakin]

hymne à l’amour - masterlist (c.l)

monegasque princess!reader

requested by - anonymous // reader who is the Princess of Monaco and dating Charles? Also they show up together at Monaco GP and all fans go crazy especially when she gives him trophy when he wins. 

authors note - this is not at all accurate to the actual monégasque royale family, I took a shit tone of creative liberty. Also thank you @illicitlimerence-writes for helping me figure out the plot :)

charles leclerc masterlist

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summary - princess falls in love with the people’s prince, but it’s not as easy as fairy tale bliss

chapter one : verse

chapter two : pre-chorus 

chapter three : chorus

[chrisevansonly]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞: 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐭 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬, 𝐈𝐭 𝐏𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when charles needs someone to turn to it’s his mother who can help provide him with the insight he needs to try and find the solution to mend his relationship with you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, mentions of arguments, some fluff

𝐚/𝐧: here we are chapter 5 and this time we are doing a little charles pov hehe and we are still in the angst phase but don’t worry i promise things will turn around soon, this is a smaller chapter again🫶🏻

𝐰𝐜: 900 something?

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Twenty Four hours that was the amount of time that passed until Charles was crawling at the walls, beginning to go crazy at the unanswered calls and texts he’d been sending to you since you walked out of the door. Arthur could only help his brother so much before he deemed it an issue for Maman Leclerc to handle, and Charles was starting to see that too. Truth be told this was the last thing he wanted to happen to his family, he hated himself for getting so angry and so loud with you, his angel, his wife. 

If there was one thing Charles wasn’t it was a hateful man, he had so much love to give and share with you, seeing your face crumple and the tears that rolled down your face was enough to have him kicking himself in the ass. He almost felt stupid as he pulled into the driveway of his mothers, getting out of his car only to freeze as you walked out with Matteo.

“Papa, Papa!!!” the toddler squealed excitedly 

“Bonjour petit prince”

He watched as you let go of his hand so he could run over to hug him, Charles was quick to pick Matteo up and press a few kisses to his face 

“Papa play please?”

“No baby, I can’t play right now, maybe later okay? You go home with maman alright?”

The two year old frowned not understanding why he couldn’t play with his dad, but held his arms out for you to take him back, barely glancing at him

“Charles..”

Your voice sounded tired, a slight edge to it which the Monégasque only had himself to blame for that 

“Amour…”

“Not now.”

With that he watched you place Teo in his car seat, quickly getting into the driver’s side door and speeding away from the house, almost like you couldn’t get away from him fast enough, another pang of hurt spreading through him. Blinking back the tears in his eyes, he looked towards the front door where Pascale waited, a knowing look on her face, as soon as Charles reached her she was quick to kiss his cheek and pull him in for a hug.

“Mon Charlie, tu as l’air tellement bleu” 

“Parce que j’ai le blues, maman.”

Charles followed his mother into the house, taking a seat on the couch while Pascale got them both a cup of tea, just how he liked it of course. Silence filling the air as he figured out what to say, where to start, shame quick to cloud his brain as soon as he began to think too hard.

“Seems like you both had a little trouble recently?”

He was quick to look up at his mother, the worry in her eyes enough to let him know she knew everything already 

“I fucked up maman…I-I”

“Chérie you made a mistake and it can be fixed, you know Y/N, she loves you so much despite how she is feeling, and I know she feels horribly about how she reacted as well..”

“Really because she acted like she hates me outside.” 

Charles closed his eyes, letting out a breath 

“She is hurting Char, and I know you want to be there for her and help her through it, but I think right now she needs a bit more time to breath, and you do too, so youre staying here with me, you can help me make dinner tonight, your brothers will be here too.”

“Maman..”

Pascale waved her hand 

“Pas de dispute avec moi, tu ne viens plus que rarement me voir pour dîner.”

With that Charles nodded, excusing himself to go up to his old room, letting himself fall against the mattress, he didn’t know what to do, where to go, how to feel, all he knew was he missed you and he missed Matteo. It almost tore his heart apart to see his son’s sad eyes knowing he wasn’t coming home with you like he usually did. 

He felt like a failure as a father and a failure as a husband, but deep down was he a horrible person for wanting to share his passion with his little boy? No, far from, and you knew that, you did which is what gnawed away at you, unbeknownst to Charles. What he did know is he wanted to fix things, and fix things fast because a day without you felt like a lifetime, and it was something he wished to never feel again, even as he stared at the unanswered texts.

▸Charles: can we talk tomorrow…? please

He stared at the screen, patiently, crossing her fingers and hoping to see three dots pop up at the bottom. Seconds turned into minutes, which turned into almost half an hour before his screen lit up, the background you and Matteo when he was first born

▸Amour: okay, just come to the house whenever.

Charles was quick to type back

▸Charles: okay, okay thank you baby! i love you so much..

He didn’t think it was pushing it to text his usual i love you but when you didn’t answer back, he wondered if it was, if he had pushed you already, sending you further away, he only hoped he hadn’t messed up to the point where he really was losing you forever.

It wasn’t until roughly an hour later that his phone screen lit up once more, this time an attachment was sent, a photo of Matteo cuddled up with Charles’s favourite sweater, curled onto your chest a simple ‘we love you too papa❤️’ written below it.

Maybe things would change for the better, maybe there was enough time to fix what had been broken, and to get back to being a family.

ʚlittle karter taglist

@goldenalbon @goldenmclaren @a1leexxa @treehouse-mouse @therealcap @wintfleur

english translations:

bonjour petit prince - hello little prince

mon Charlie, tu as l’air tellement bleu - my charlie, you look so blue

parce que j’ai le blues maman - because i am blue/i have the blues mom

Pas de dispute avec moi, tu ne viens plus que rarement me voir pour dîner - no arguments for me, you rarely come see me for dinner.

[gracie-bird]

Born in Danville, Virginia, USA, in 1930, Harriett went to Monaco in 1967, when her husband Wilfried was asked by Prince Rainier to be Managing Director of the Société des Bains de Mer (SBM). Their children being the same ages, it was natural that a friendship developed between them all. The Grootes became Monégasques in 1973 and are now proud 4th generation citizens. Harriett was a founding member and Vice-President of the Garden Club, and also on the board of the American School (Now International School), the Princess Grace Academy of Dance and Monaco-USA.

"One day, in the late 1970s, Princess Grace came to my house with a sheaf of music, Irish songs arranged for voice and piano. What fun for us both! We started with two songs Rose of Killarney and My Wild Irish Rose (She loved roses). Her voice was lovely. The piano accompaniment was nice too, but intricate for a poor sight-reader like me. I asked for time to practice before we tried again. The idea was to eventually perform (for our families only). The Princess was involved in poetry reading tours at the time. She also practised projecting Her voice when we played golf.

Time flew and, alas, we never got back to the Irish songs. Later on, the Palace asked me to return the music sheets, which would be destined for an Irish Library in her memory. I was both wistful and happy to be able to contribute to this project, now celebrating its 40th year. "- Harriett Groote.

[racingcore]

CARLOS SAINZ HUMBLE F1 DRIVER??? SON OF CARLOS SAINZ SR. WITH A FAMILY THAT PAYS OFF MEDIA REGULARLY???

CHARLES RICH MONÉGASQUE???? WHO HAD TO RELY ON THE BIANCHI FAMILY FOR A BIT SO HE COULD CONTINUE KARTING DUE TO LACK OF FUNDS???

ARE THESE PEOPLE ON DRUGS ARE THEY ON DRUGS WHAT DRUGS ARE THEY ON I CAN'T

i heard the drug is called DHC (delusional hard crack). its dangerous fr, eats through all of the smart parts of the brain, you know ones used for logical reasoning and stuff? the person is unable to research and form a coherent opinion on their own.

also i think our Charles prince of monaco agenda is going too strong that these idiots are starting to believe it.

[forzasedici]

No you might be on to something… Princess Diaries is in Genovia which is basically Andorra or another tiny European country lol. They’re the Renaldi family which I’m convinced is based off of the Grimaldi family of the monégasque royals. Who would be a perfect celebrity to pop up as a native of genovia? 🤭

YOU GET IT!!!!! like his face is giving a fictional prince and his personality is "quirky" enough for these kinds of movies like he would slay that comedy they got going on and that's why that man needs at the very least a cameo... anne hathaway ma'am just hear me out for one second please

[gryphon1232]

Alexandre and the Monégasque Prince

Ok so the "Alexandre and Lance St. Moritz Winter Trip" brain rot is still hitting in full force, but I want to pause your regularly scheduled programming to yap about something else for a moment:

Alexandre and his friendship with the younger Prince of Monaco.

Alright context: I switch up the royal families in the DRS universe as needed¹, and part of that includes switching up the Monégasque royal family/the House of Grimaldi, or in DRS' case, the House of Canella. In DRS, the modern Monégasque royal family is headed by His Serene Highness Jaques II, the Prince of Monaco. He and his wife Princess Marguerite have 3 children, the Hereditary Prince Louis, Prince Ranier, and Princess Charlotte.

We're going to focus on Prince Ranier for today, or His Serene Highness Prince Ranier of Monaco, Count of Polignac. He was born around 1998 — he and Alexandre are the same age. Growing up the two actually sort of became friends! They attended the same schools, and because Alexandre's father was a very wealthy and internationally famous Monégasque athlete, the Lareaux family attended multiple royal events. TL;DR, the two actually became friends, after all they were both children of internationally famous people, it was sort-of hard for both of them to make friends.

I love their dynamic so much because like. Alexandre never had siblings, so the closest he ever got growing up was other Grid-Kids, but they came and went. His next best thing was quite literally a Prince, which sounds like a jackpot, but honestly it was more of an awkward friendship of convenience for a long time. It was like a school friend who you didn't really know — they didn't talk outside of events they were both at, after all how do you ask a Prince to hang out? Besides, Alexandre was too busy with karting.

It wasn't until Alexandre went to a French boarding school that they actually started to get to know each other better? Basically, Alexandre started talking to him about how being in boarding school and away from his father and the attention was kind of nice, and then like a week later Ranier kind of just appeared (after convincing his father to let him attend) and the two got closer because they began to actually hang out and bond over like. Both being stuck in the public eye through no fault of their own and Father Issues™.

So like. Picture if you will: A younger, shyer teenage Alexandre who's flighty because he's used to his friends being either his competition on track, or disappearing after a few seasons. He's also an absolute habitual people pleaser because of his father. He's filled with all of this determination and drive and fear of failure because of his father, and he's always slightly distracted because his head's stuck in the cockpit.

Now contrast that with a young Prince who's never really had a friend who can even somewhat understand what he's dealing with until Alexandre. He's loud, and he's charismatic, and he's defiant. Annoyed by his position, the second son with no responsibilities or role besides being the backup, sidled with a hundred rules for what he can and cannot do.

Alexandre keeping Ranier somewhat grounded and out of trouble, Ranier helping to drag Alexandre out of his shy and quiet shell and teach him to enjoy things other than racing. Both of them being a steadfast friend for the other, both of them being the person the other one can vent to, being the person who'll be able to understand.

Ranier attending Alexandre's karting races (much to the annoyance of his security), and Alexandre attending royal events as Ranier's plus one to keep him from dying of boredom. They become a bit of a quartet with Princess Charlotte, and Vincent, (Making the tabloids a few times throughout their time at the boarding school. Don't ask what happened at the Graduation Party.

Also, if we want a bit of angst, Nicholas being pissy and flipping out on Alexandre because( he's jealous that Alexandre is friends with a Prince) Alexandre is getting distracted from racing, and telling him he has no time to make friends.

They hang out less as they grew up, Alexandre is constantly busy with racing and Ranier with official duties, but they always make an effort to speak when possible, or if the other ever needs an ear, and they make it a point to hang out at least once every year during the F1 Summer Break.

OK it turns out I have a lot more thoughts on them than I thought, If you got to the end of my rambling, then you are dedicated and I salute you. Have a cookie 🍪!

1: (Britain still has a queen (and a gay prince!), the Danish royal family is also different (They also have a gay prince! The two princes are married!))

[motherofbulldogs]

Because only the direct heirs matter.

Off topic, but why does nearly everyone in the Monaco royal family get pregnant before they marry?

I have no clue.

[theroyalcorrespondent]

HSH Prince Albert II of Monaco Attends a Gala Dinner Fundraiser at the Yacht Club de Monaco.

HSH Prince Albert II of Monaco Attends a Gala Dinner Fundraiser at the Yacht Club de Monaco.

On the evening of Tuesday, May 10, 2022, His Serene Highness Prince Albert II of Monaco attended a gala dinner fundraiser, held under the theme Gastronomy of the Dominican Republic, at the Yacht Club de Monaco in Monte-Carlo. Organized by the Monégasque Ibéro-Américaine (AMI) in collaboration with the Dominican Embassy in France and Monaco and the Ministry of National Education, Youth and Sports…

[royaltyspeaking]

April 17, 2022-New photos of the Monégasque Princely Family have been released to celebrate Easter

This is the first time that Charlene has been seen since she returned to Monaco last fall.

[ao3feed-stony]

Cosmic Latte

by meshkol (ashernorton)

Steve Rogers, the President of the United States and leader of the Avengers, is looking forward to meeting with the family of Issac Stark, the only connection he has to the friend who helped get him behind enemy lines and rescue Bucky from the clutches of the Red Skull. It’s a bit of a diplomatic nightmare to be sure, as Issac’s son had married the Princess of Monaco and Steve’s the sitting president, but Steve’s nothing if not determined to keep the memory of Issac alive through stories and memories to the people who knew him best, and he’s looking forward to getting to know the family Issac had always wanted.

But during his pseudo-holiday to the Principality of Monaco, he gets to know Issac’s grandson Tony, the heir presumptive to the Monégasque throne, a man so vibrant and expressive and brilliant that Steve can’t help but be sucked into his orbit. It doesn’t take long for Steve to fall in love – and expose the rotten underbelly of Howard Stark in the process – and despite the fact that a relationship with a foreign prince has to be an impossible fantasy for someone like Steve, perhaps there is a chance that he can have his happily ever after nonetheless.

Words: 54782, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Presidental AUs

Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Edwin Jarvis, Maria Stark, Howard Stark, Maria Hill, James "Rhodey" Rhodes

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Howard Stark/Maria Stark

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Modern Royalty, presidental au, Alternate Universe – Presidental AU, Prince Tony Stark, President Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark Lives, Maria Stark Lives, Princess Maria Stark, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Steve has zero chill, Joseph Rogers' A+ Parenting, Past Child Abuse, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Nightmares, Politics

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/35652004

[stony-ao3-feed]

Cosmic Latte

Read it on AO3

by meshkol (ashernorton)

Steve Rogers, the President of the United States and leader of the Avengers, is looking forward to meeting with the family of Issac Stark, the only connection he has to the friend who helped get him behind enemy lines and rescue Bucky from the clutches of the Red Skull. It’s a bit of a diplomatic nightmare to be sure, as Issac’s son had married the Princess of Monaco and Steve’s the sitting president, but Steve’s nothing if not determined to keep the memory of Issac alive through stories and memories to the people who knew him best, and he’s looking forward to getting to know the family Issac had always wanted.

But during his pseudo-holiday to the Principality of Monaco, he gets to know Issac’s grandson Tony, the heir presumptive to the Monégasque throne, a man so vibrant and expressive and brilliant that Steve can’t help but be sucked into his orbit. It doesn’t take long for Steve to fall in love – and expose the rotten underbelly of Howard Stark in the process – and despite the fact that a relationship with a foreign prince has to be an impossible fantasy for someone like Steve, perhaps there is a chance that he can have his happily ever after nonetheless.

Words: 54782, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Presidental AUs

Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Edwin Jarvis, Maria Stark, Howard Stark, Maria Hill, James "Rhodey" Rhodes

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Howard Stark/Maria Stark

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Modern Royalty, presidental au, Alternate Universe – Presidental AU, Prince Tony Stark, President Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark Lives, Maria Stark Lives, Princess Maria Stark, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Steve has zero chill, Joseph Rogers' A+ Parenting, Past Child Abuse, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Nightmares, Politics

Read it on AO3

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Stark’s New Intern” Chapter 25

Summary:

Erik is whisked away from Tony by a Monaco Princess and discovers they have more in common than he suspects.

NSFW. Mature Audience. 18+. Smut.

"The ego, gotta be vetoed if you want a free-throw The evils, stay with the scripture what your mama read you You gotta milk the game, son, I couldn't bottle feed you This next bar was 'bout to do some Logic shit But now I gotta stop the shit and let me pop my shit Drama still added on, stayin' positive All my niggas on my side, on the opposite…"

Denzel Curry—"Diet"

Vivienne dragged Erik through diplomatic guests and rooms until they were back at the entrance of the palace. A dark SUV with tinted windows whipped around and a guard opened the door for her and Erik.

"Get in!" she said.

Erik climbed into the back seat with her as light snow fell down.

"It snows here?" Erik asked.

"It's rare."

"Where are we going?"

"A surprise."

Vivienne pulled a small cell phone from inside her bra cup.

"Don't look so shocked!" she teased.

She made a call and Erik was able to make out part of her conversation with his basic French.

"Stark is not going to let me just hang out—"

"I'll handle Tony. You're the first interesting person I've met in a long time. I want to show you off."

"To who?"

"My friends—"

"Aye, driver…stop the car."

"Gasper, arrête la voiture…"

The SUV came to a stop just outside the palace property line.

"Stark has me on a tight leash here."

Vivienne pouted.

"Can't we just hang out in the palace?" he asked.

"Too many eyes and ears. I want to talk freely."

Going to his hotel was out of the question.

Vivienne gave instructions to Gaspar and texted someone.

Erik's cell buzzed. He pulled it out of his jacket.

"Where are you?"

Stark's voice was rushed.

"The Princess kidnapped me."

Tony didn't sound happy. Vivienne grabbed Erik's cell.

"I will bring him back safe to your hotel…it's boring there. He's young and should hang out with people his age…so what…you are such a bore right now! I don't care. I will call my Uncle and tell him. Yes…I will tell him. Goodbye, Tony. Stop acting like an old tired father."

She tossed Erik his phone.

"My Uncle wants you tomorrow night. I will keep you until tomorrow morning."

"Like some pet."

"And a sweet pet you are," she said patting his forehead.

Erik grabbed her hand and tossed it from his face.

"Easy now," she whispered.

Erik sat back and watched fat snowflakes fall from the sky. Forty minutes into their ride they were climbing up mountainous terrain until they passed through massive black metal gates. The snow had grown thick and at least three inches covered the ground. Two black Great Danes circled the car before being ushered away by a butler who held an umbrella to protect Vivienne from the snow.

Erik shivered as they stepped out of the SUV in front of a large chateau, but the Princess had them inside the secured hideaway quickly. Within the overly warm residence at least thirty twenty-somethings sat and stood around a cozy open space with dark furnishings drinking, smoking, and listening to music. Erik looked around and saw French antiques mixed with modern touches. Like the palace, it smelled old and decadent.

A fire roared in a tall and wide fireplace big enough to roast ten pigs on a spit. Above the massive ornate mantel was an aged oil painting of seventeenth-century royalty in a pastoral scene.

"Tu t'es échappé!"

A young man with oily dark hair and a lop-sided grin rushed over to Vivienne giving her cheek kisses.

"S'il vous plait parlez anglaise, Durant," Vivienne said.

"Is this him?" Durant asked.

"No. Don't even mention that bastard," Vivienne snapped.

She grabbed Erik's hand and pulled him to the center of the opulent gathering of blue-bloods.

"Vivienne, he has been calling here non-stop. He threatened to fly here and find you. You should speak with him," a young woman with flaxen hair pinned in a severe chignon said.

There was an urgency in her voice.

"Everyone, this is Erik. He works for Tony Stark. He is my Uncle's special guest. Erik these are my friends and that is my cousin Durant and my cousin Remy. Erik is American. "

"Do you speak French?" the flaxen-hair woman asked.

Erik lied.

"No."

The butler poured Erik a glass of medium brown liquor from a crystal decanter.

"No worries, Erik, we all speak English here," Durant said.

A raven-haired woman with thin glossy lips leaned into another white woman next to her as Vivienne turned her back.

"…hommes noirs…"

Erik caught the two white women snickering about Vivienne and Black men. He tried not to glare at them as he felt out the energy in the room. The decrepit rich. Millionaires would be shunned as peasants among this slick bunch.

Erik sipped his drink. Old rich bourbon. The kind not sold in stores.

The liquid beat a warm trail down his throat.

Durant gave Erik a tour of the first floor and Vivienne was cornered by her friends and berated for something that he couldn't hear nor understand that well.

"Where were you educated?" Remy asked.

Plump, bow-lipped, and nattily dressed, Remy smoked the same clove-flavored cigarette that Vivienne favored. Blowing smoke above Erik's head, Remy's ruddy cheeks looked influenced by too much liquor and whatever else they were snorting or popping by the blown-out wet look in his light blue eyes.

"I'll be attending grad school at M.I.T. soon," he said.

There was no sense lying. Erik knew they were just trying to place him in the proper hierarchy for their comfort.

"How long have you been with Tony Stark?"

"Almost a year now."

Erik swirled his glass and sipped a little more bourbon. He moved freely about the room admiring a few sculptures. One, in particular, caught his eye as it sat on a cherry wood console table. He pointed to it.

"This is a nice replica of the Actaeon and Diana statues at the Caserta Royal Palace."

"You've been there?"

"Twice. With my family. It was a museum tour."

"You know the story behind the work?" Remy asked inching closer to Erik.

"Diana was bathing with her nymphs in attendance and Actaeon was out with his hunting dogs. He accidentally saw Diana naked and she sent his own dogs after him. She punished him for his transgression. Turned him into a deer."

Erik let his fingertip touch the top of Actaeon's face transforming into a hunted stag. The head of the mythical man was all deer while the rest was still human in a dead run for his life.

"He commanded that his pack recognize him as he slowly morphed into a stag."

Ten various breeds of dogs surrounded poor Actaeon as the human and animal transformation disfigured his face.

"The gardens there are extensive," Durant said.

"Very beautiful. Like Tivoli itself."

"Well-traveled?"

"Try to be as much as I can."

Erik turned away from the sculpture and returned to the round wooden table that held the decanter of bourbon.

"More?"

A sharp-featured strawberry blonde seated on a beige double high-back chair pointed to the bourbon. She seemed amused to have Erik in her presence.

"Sure," Erik said holding his glass out to her.

Her eyes shifted from amusement to flustered surprise. She wasn't wearing pearls, but her expression sure was clutching some. Remy chuckled and Erik waited for the woman to pour.

She sat forward and lifted the decanter.

"Say when…" she said.

He let her go halfway before he held up his free hand.

"Thanks," he said. He took a big swig and turned away from her.

Vivienne's amused face beamed at him. He took a seat on a small couch and Vivienne swept over to sit with him.

There was small talk and Erik endured the irritating fishing into his past and personal life. Strawberry blonde and the raven-haired woman spoke in French, absorbed in their own world with not-so-subtle glances at Erik. He made out most of their conversation and grew bored with the idle chatter about men and parties. His focus moved back to Vivienne. She was the most beautiful woman in the room and the least invested in everyone else except for him. Her perfume tickled his nostrils.

"Anglais!" Vivienne scolded.

"Sorry," Strawberry said.

"So rude to my guest," she grumbled.

Vivienne grabbed his hand and pulled him off of the couch and moved him toward a staircase.

"We're off!" Vivienne called to her clique.

On the second floor, Erik followed Vivienne down a long hall. He glanced at more dynastic family oil paintings on the walls. He stopped at one that featured Vivienne. She stood next to him staring up at the gold-framed painting. Her father looked like a milkier Francesco, but much younger and with more hair. He had a pronounced large mouth and a weak chin. Cold gray eyes evoked a stern Monégasque aristocracy.

"My father Prince Julien, and my mother, Princess Ndaté."

Her mother was a rich warm espresso color with plump lips and a wide undefined nose with the cutest smile on her pixie face. Thick braids were twisted high on her head. Vivienne sat next to her mother on a forest green velvet settee wearing the same dark copper tea dress. Her father stood behind the settee with his hands touching his wife and daughter in a severely pressed dark suit.

"Your Moms became royalty here?"

"She was of royal descent from Senegal—"

"I have a play Aunt from Senegal."

"Oui?"

"Yeah. She's a queen to me."

"It was quite an event when they were married I am told. They met at Oxford. That's where I go to school."

"Only child?"

"Oui."

"Me too."

"Come…"

He followed her to another hall that led to a bedroom on the end.

"This your house?"

"Belongs to the family. We use it for special events. My cousins and I hide out here when we are between official duties at the palace. Unfortunately, having a father first in line to the throne makes my cousin Clara the sad puppy tonight. She had to stay behind for all the diplomatic duties."

"What's your shot at the throne?"

She cackled.

"My father is sixth in line. No chance. I will just be the speculative royal."

"A Black Princess in a white line. That's a big deal to a lot of people."

Vivienne unpinned her hair and the dark tresses fell even longer down her back.

"Close the door," she said.

Erik locked it and she stood in front of him.

"Unzip me," she demanded, her doe-like eyes seductive in the dim lighting of the room.

She turned away from him. Erik unhooked her and then zipped the dress down to her lower back.

"Merci."

She stepped out of the dress then tossed it on a pecan wood-stained rococo bed embellished with swirly scrolls and foliage fretwork. Her black silk underwear and strapless bra stayed on as she kicked off her heels. She had on sheer black thigh-high stockings and he watched her roll her hips as she walked to a delicate-looking bronze and leather Louis the Fifteenth writing desk with a matching leather chair. Her European Pops may have given her light skin and a loose curl pattern, but her African Mama most definitely gave her shelf booty and thighs for days. Her lack of modesty was much like his own when he was at home.

A chrome laptop was on the desk and Vivienne turned it on. Erik looked around the room and saw a pair of Bulgari sunglasses on a dresser. He put them on and admired his face in a dressing mirror. Her laptop powered up and she sauntered over to him. She pushed her sunglasses to the top of his head.

"I take off my clothes and you barely blink," she teased.

"I've seen a lot of bodies, Ma. Ain't no thang—"

"Ah, I saw you! Your eyes looked at my breasts just then."

He grinned.

"You're kinda spilling out there a bit."

She was.

Erik could see she had big light chestnut areolas that peeked out. Her snatched waist made her hips look wide from the front and enhanced the physical beauty that she displayed. Her eyes studied his face and she stepped closer to him. She unfastened his suit jacket and pulled it off of him, flinging it on top of her dress. He could feel her body heat.

"Get comfortable," she commanded.

Her fingers lifted and undid the first three buttons on his shirt. Erik clasped her fingers inside his hand.

"You're moving fast, girl. Don't even know me—"

"I know you're a liar," she whispered in his ear.

He frowned.

She tried stepping away from him but he held her wrists tight.

"I'm a liar?"

"You've been vetted by Tony. He doesn't just let anyone get close to him. And my Uncle hates commoners. You're not who you say you are."

He let her go. Her fingers went behind her back and she unclasped the hooks on her bra and let it fall to the floor. Her breasts dropped two inches on her chest from their heaviness, but as much as he was interested in playing with them and stretching his mouth over them, the smug look on her face had him edgy.

"Erik Stevens. American sounding name. But I've watched you. The way you walk. The way you talk and carry yourself. You remind me of my boyfriend…ex-boyfriend. You swaggered into my family's humble abode like you owned it. Even in the palace you moved around like others were beneath you or not worth your time. You don't suck up to Tony like I've seen others do. Either your family is very rich and well connected, or you have royalty in your background…oh, see? Your eyes gave you away…"

Vivienne stared at him. Some type of recognition colored her face.

"Someone in your family is from the motherland, oui? The east? It's so evident—"

"Oakland through and through, girl."

"No. Menteur. You are African. More like Halfrican…as am I."

She poked his chest.

Erik swiped the dark glasses back down over his eyes. He sat on her bed and felt his belly churn with tension. Vivienne's intuition had him shook. He tried to deflect.

"Come bring your fine ass here."

He held out his hand.

She walked over to her computer and turned on some music. He grimaced.

"I don't know what kind of mood you're trying to set, but that ain't it," he said.

He moved from the bed to her side and turned off the dreadful Europop sounds. He typed in the search engine and pulled up the M.I.T. website.

Her voice came into the room and the energy shifted.

Buttafly.

His muse.

"What is this?" Vivienne asked.

"A radio station I listen to. It streams worldwide."

"I like it."

Vivienne swayed her body, her hips circling with little dips. Her bare feet took tiny steps as she latched on to the hypnotic dreamy beats. Erik's eyes raked over her curves and the slight bounce of her tits.

"How many guys do you bring here the first time you meet them?"

"Guys? Mon doudou, do I look like I interact with guys?"

Her hands fluttered around her body.

"I only entertain the powerful and worthy."

Something within Erik stirred. Vivienne rolled her body and the music transitioned to something even more sensual.

"If the night brings you gossamer wings made of starlight and sable dreams, you better fly…"

Erik imagined moist lips with Buttafly's honey mouth whispering the words in his ear that he heard from the computer. Since he couldn't have the unseen girl of his aural fantasies on the radio, Vivienne was perfect compensation. He stepped to her and entwined his fingers with hers and shook his hips. Twirling her around to face him, Erik led Vivienne in some Chi-town two-steppin' that his grandfather taught him.

"I love this!" Vivienne squealed.

He pulled her in close and she was able to follow his lead.

"That's it, Princess," he encouraged.

She pulled the dark glasses from his eyes and tossed them on her bed as they stepped in time together. He spun and dipped adding the Oaktown drip to their partnering. Drawing her in tight, her breasts mashed into his chest and he liked the pressure she started to put on his loins as he felt his dick grow fat in his tailored slacks.

"I feel that," she sighed grinding on him.

"It's yours if you want it, Princess."

Vivienne turned and backed her ass against his groin.

"Let me be your heartbeat…"

Whatever poem Buttafly was reciting on top of the erotic beats made Vivienne gasp as she stood still and let him dry hump her ass. Erik's dick turned to iron and the heavy print beating against the split in her backside made her panties wet. His fingers stroked the front of her underwear forcefully to let her know what time it was. Her legs shook. Erik gripped her waist and held her in place as he thrust against her.

He wanted that weight bouncing on him so he pulled her back with him as he sat on the bed with her seated on his lap. She gave him what he wanted, lifting and dropping on his dick, the friction from his pants adding to the pleasure he was enjoying. He reached up and yanked on her long hair, threading his fingers through the thicker strands.

"Big ole ass…girl you know you got a big ole ass…look at you!"

Vivienne laughed and he tugged harder on her hair forcing her head back.

"Who takes care of all of this, huh? I know these white boys ain't handling you right. Look how you're acting. Your man know you wilding right now?"

"He's old news. There are other fish."

"You're sinking some hooks, Ma."

Vivienne spun around on him and straddled his thighs, her breasts sitting on his chest.

"You have protection?" she asked.

"Yeah. Will we be disturbed?"

"No."

She slid her fingers down to the last fastened buttons on his shirt and freed him from it. The skin on skin contact made his dick harder. Erik pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and fumbled for one of his condoms as she nibbled along his neck.

"I won't cause no international incident fucking a Princess will I?"

Her lips smothered his and her tongue was aggressive with his open mouth. Her kisses were desperate.

"You need me bad," he whispered in her ear as he snaked his tongue inside it.

Her greedy fingers went to work on his pants and he let her take them off along with his dark briefs.

"This is what I need," she groaned wrapping her fingers around his wood.

She stroked him nice and slow, teasing pre-cum out of his slit before she engulfed him with her lips. Resting on his elbows, Erik enjoyed watching her slather his dick with warm saliva and moans.

"Damn, baby. You know how to handle my shit. Rub them big titties on it."

Vivienne knelt down and lifted her breasts. He sandwiched his length in the deep valley of her cleavage and she interlocked her fingers together making his erection snug and secure. She rubbed her tits up and down and he had memories of Athena as he watched his dick disappear. He fingered around her areolas and tugged on her nipples.

"Nasty girl…just met me and got my dick like this. You like being a good slut?"

Vivienne lunged for his mouth and they kissed until the throbbing in the root of his dick made him antsy for pussy. He wasn't sure how much privacy they really would have, so he didn't want to waste time eating the box and then being interrupted without having a crack at royal walls. She seemed to be hot for his erection right away too. He could taste her folds after he pounded her good and proper. It was time for royal fucking and he planned on giving her Wakandan Prince dick.

Buttafly was providing the soundtrack he needed to serenade Vivienne into submission. She was about to quench the female drought he was experiencing. He tore open the gold magnum condom wrapper and slipped the rubber down his thick inches. The bed didn't feel sturdy to him so he pulled her over to the solid-looking cream vintage chaise lounge.

"Wait," she whispered and quickly walked to a door he thought was an ornate closet but was actually a bathroom.

She came back with a dark towel and spread it on the lounge. Erik sat down and helped her climb back onto his lap. They kissed once more and she moaned into his throat as he gave her deep soul kisses. He held the back of her neck and plundered her lusty mouth until she was whimpering.

"Fuck me," she begged.

"You want this dick?"

The mewling sound from her voice made him so horny. It was obvious they both hadn't had it in a long time. He didn't give her time to pull her panties off or slide them to the side. He just ripped them off and tossed the scraps on the floor. Gripping the bottom of her ass cheeks and lifting her up, she eased down on his length with only two adjustments with the angle. His abundant size didn't bother her at all. She was so wet that he knew she could slide down even more inches if he had them. Feeling more confident after a few false starts and gripping the back of the lounge for balance, Vivienne started dropping her pussy on him forcing harsh cursing to erupt from his mouth.

"You really tryna break a nigga in!"

"MMMhmmm."

"Okay, Princess. Big ole heavy ass…big heavy ass!"

He slapped her butt and the solid sound made his balls jump.

"Fuck me…fuck me, Princess. Ride that bitch…ride that bitch. Damn you got some weight on that shit."

She knew how to move and shook what her Mama gave her and then some. The clapping of cheeks was so loud that Erik just knew that everyone had to be able to hear it downstairs. She twisted her waist and circled her hips to make that shit even louder and his mouth fell open trying to inhale more air to keep up with her. He jackhammered into her until the music settled him down and he got caught up in a rhythm that had her begging him to wreck her shit for all time. She stopped speaking English then, and her breathy French made his mouth filthy talking back to her. He slid his fingers along her thigh-high stockings.

"Damn, Princess!"

Vivienne turned her body to the side and rested her head on the back of the lounge as she watched Erik's face next to hers. She rode the first four inches on the top of his dick and the sensation of her circling that tight box on him without going all the way down made him press his feet hard into the carpeted floor.

She had his face all scrunched up as he stared into her eyes. Her mouth was open and spilling more moans.

"Fuck me, Princess. Just like that…just like that. Got this big ass clapping!"

"Oui…oui…oui…"

"Fuck me…fuck me…take some more girl…go all the way down. Don't be scared. Fuck me good…take some more. You can get more in there…shit yeah…I like that shit…all the way down. Dassit…more…lemme stretch that shit more…fuck…oh fuck…there it is. Riding the tip so good, baby. Dassit…dassit, Princess. All the way down…all the way bitch…yeah…let a real nigga handle you…mmmmm…"

He pulled out and her eyes looked confused.

"Turn over. Get on your knees."

He forced Vivienne to clutch onto the armrest as he took her from behind.

"Spread them cheeks with your hands…I said spread them. Don't make me fucking repeat myself!"

Erik slapped the shit out of her ass and her body jerked from the punishment. Her hands reached back and pulled her ass cheeks apart for him. Her head rested on the cushion.

"Poke that ass out…dassit. Arch that back for me. Good girl. Make that pussy tight for me. Make it hard for me to get in this shit."

He inserted the bulbous head in and he felt her pushing her vaginal muscles against him.

"Yeah! Just like that! Make it hard for me to get in there…c'mon girl! Fuck!"

Vivienne's head angled back to watch his face.

"Fuck me….please…fuck me hard…" she panted.

"Hold them cheeks open!"

Her pussy was frothy and the creamy fluid dribbled down her thighs every time he pulled out to thrust back in fast.

"Nobody been taking care of this pussy."

"…fuck me, Erik…."

"Ain't no Oxford niggas available to break you off?"

She laughed and it died in her throat when he deep stroked her. He held her left arm back to help him get down deeper. He wasn't going to last.

"Loud pussy, girl…"

Her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth stayed lax.

"Oh…oh…oh…oh…"

"Get it, girl! Getcho dick!"

Vivienne clutched onto the armrest with her free hand and lifted up. He released her arm and she rode his dick by rocking back on him with her hands resting on her thighs.

"Do that…do that…" he hissed.

"Erik!"

"…finna nut…"

Her pussy made obscene farting noises and he let loose into the condom.

"Fuucckkkkkk!"

He fell over her back and gripped her shoulders, kissing the side of her face.

"Fucking icy, Princess!" he panted.

He lifted up feeling the hardness in his dick still holding out.

"I ain't forgot you, Ma."

Erik made her turn over and he lifted her legs over his arms and put in work. It didn't take long for her to fall apart all over his dick before he had to grab the base of his length to keep the condom from slipping as he became flaccid.

Vivienne ran her hand across the top of her hair and grinned from ear to ear.

"That was…mon Dieu…" she sighed.

She reached up and caressed his face.

"Are you using your wings? Are you flying above the world Black angel….?"

Buttafly's voice calmed the rapid beating in his heart from the physical exertion. Vivienne took his hand and pulled him onto her bed.

"Viens mon amour," she whispered.

###

They used all of his condoms.

Three in total.

Vivienne was insatiable and he gave it his all until he fell asleep. He awoke to find the two pitch-black Great Danes sleeping on the floor at the foot of the bed. When Erik stood up to go urinate, both dogs growled at him, their big ears tall on their heads like radar.

"Chut!" Vivienne hissed.

Both dogs backed down and rested their heads on their large paws.

Dressed in a fluffy ginger-colored robe, Vivienne sat on the bed with her laptop in front of her crossed legs.

"Morning," he said.

"Good morning to you. Sleep well?"

"Yeah. What time is it?"

"One—"

"Shit!"

"Don't worry. Tony knows you're still with me. I called him earlier. You don't have to be back until tonight."

"I have to be with your uncle."

"I know. Take a shower. Everything you need is in the bathroom. Are you hungry? I had lunch brought up since you slept through breakfast."

She pointed to a covered silver serving tray on the writing desk. There was fresh juice and water in glass pitchers with glasses.

"Be right back," he said.

Erik showered and pulled on a thick black robe that covered him down to his feet. A brand new toothbrush with individual toothpaste was sitting on the sink next to an unopened travel size deodorant roll. Stepping back into the bedroom, the two dogs watched him closely but didn't move or growl at him.

"Let them out before you eat anything. They will beg and it is so annoying."

Erik walked past the Great Danes and unlocked the bedroom door. They lifted their heads and Erik whistled. They jumped up and he shooed them out closing the door behind them.

Padding over to the serving tray, Erik lifted the cover and found ham omelets with cheese, resting on top of a large croissant with a side of diced mixed fruit and small finger sandwiches. He nibbled on a grape and poured himself water.

"Merde!" Vivienne snapped.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard. She glared at her screen.

"What do you want?!"

Her voice was annoyed. Erik tossed another grape into his mouth and drank some water.

"You refuse to take my calls. You make me hunt you down from the palace to your family chateau. I will not tolerate your disrespect!"

Erik froze.

The hairs on the back of his neck rose and his fingers shook so bad that he had to put his glass of water down. He stepped away from the writing desk and walked carefully to the bed, his eyes narrowing and the breath in his body moving rapidly in his chest.

That voice.

It couldn't be.

"T'Challa, we are no more. I told you that when I left—"

"You said we were just taking a step back to evaluate our relationship…who the fuck is that?!"

Blazing dark orbs burned into Erik's face. The hard scowl on T'Challa's mouth matched the one on Erik's own lips.

"That is my friend—"

"Friend? He is wearing a robe—"

"Hey, Princess. We have lunch waiting for us. Hang up."

"No one asked you to speak—"

"I'm talking, nigga and I'm digging out your bitch!"

"Vivienne!"

T'Challa's shout made Vivienne jump. Her eyes darted between them.

"He is a guest, T'Challa. We have a lot of guests here. There was a party last night—"

"You ain't gotta explain shit to him. Hang up!"

"If you hang up. I swear to Bast I will—"

"Do what?" Erik challenged.

Vivienne's eyes grew coy. She brushed her hair back over her shoulder and gave T'Challa a sly smile. She was enjoying it.

"We can talk when I get back."

"We shall talk now. Make him leave!"

Erik plopped down on the bed next to Vivienne and picked up her dark glasses. Pulling them on he placed his face close to the screen. T'Challa's eyes reminded Erik of his father's. For a second, N'Jobu's face loomed in his mind. Staring at his cousin, seeing the dark smooth skin, the flared nostrils, and hearing the haughty entitled voice, Baba was forced into his heart. Not only could Erik see his father in T'Challa's face, but he could see his own too. It was in the eyes. Those damn haunting Udaku eyes. No wonder Vivienne pegged him for royalty. She was fucking his cousin and unknowingly recognized the bloodline. Incredible.

"Where are you going?" Vivienne called out.

Erik stalked to the bedroom door.

"I have to get some air."

"Eat some food—"

"Vivienne!"

"T'Challa stop screaming at me! You'll see me when I let you!"

She slammed the laptop shut and jumped off the bed.

"Erik…Erik…what's wrong?"

Anger coursed through his body and made it rigid as the Princess wrapped her arms around his.

"I was being petty. I shouldn't have taken the chat. Not with you here. He's such an arrogant ass all the time—"

Erik lifted her up and crashed his lips onto her mouth.

Carrying her back to the bed, he pushed her laptop to the side and dropped her on the plush lavender duvet. Snatching off her robe he threw it behind him. Her eyes were ablaze as she watched him disrobe. His dick was ramrod straight and pointed toward her. He fisted the head and when he glanced at his wallet on the nightstand, he remembered he had no more condoms.

"Do you have anything?" he asked. His fingers twirled around the underside ridge of the tip.

She heard the desperate need in his voice. Her head shook and he couldn't hide his disappointment.

"Here," she said spreading her legs.

The faint pubic hairs on her plump mound were already damp and her vulva was swollen, the inner lips wide open revealing glistening pink.

"You sure?"

She lifted her legs up high.

Erik lined himself up with her.

"He wants you back," he said.

"He has to learn to deserve me."

"He don't deserve you. He doesn't deserve shit."

He plunged into Vivienne full over reckless venom. He wasn't gentle and she didn't want him to be.

"…ooh…mon dieu…ahhh…mon dieu…Erik…!"

He put his full weight on her and she clawed his back.

"Oh…oh…oh…oohmmmph…oui…oui…oui…"

He slammed into her, his length splitting her open wide, his aggression overwhelming her. She cried out in pleasure and he pushed her legs all the way back and shifted to his knees so he could break her down.

"You go back to Oxford, he gon' feel this dick!"

"Oui!"

Reckless. Piping her raw. Needing to stretch her out so she would remember him. The indignant anger in his cousin's voice aroused the alpha within himself and he pounded the fuck out of Vivienne to get back at his blood. If he couldn't bust that spoiled bastard in the face with his fist, then he was going to bust his woman down with his dick.

Erik fucked most of the sound out of Vivienne. She couldn't even make coherent words anymore. Her eyes were glued to his with her lips parted in sweet agony. Every few seconds a deep groan would spill from her throat. He kept the pace brutal and she was game for it.

"Hold your damn legs, bitch!"

Vivienne reached up and curved her hands under her thighs and held them in place as he gripped her throat with one hand and held onto the headboard with the other.

"OOooohhh!"

The vibration in her throat was felt in his hand and he pulled all the way out just to thrust back in to hit that bottom of her pussy hard. Her eyes rolled back and shut as tears spilled from her lids. He eased his grip from her neck to allow her more air but she pushed his hand back down harder.

"This my pussy now. Right?"

Her eyes popped open and her breasts bounced distracting him. He reached down and felt all over her chest as she thrashed under him. He plucked at her clit before rotating firm circles into the small nub.

"I'm cumming!" she shouted.

Erik watched her pussy contract around his girth and before she went limp in his arms, he pulled his shiny erection out and stroked it until stringy hot ropes of semen spurt all over her belly.

"Princess!" he choked out.

He milked out all that his balls could give and Vivienne smeared it into her skin. Gulping for air, Erik sat back from her. When he was able to breathe normally, he searched for his clothes and got dressed.

"You won't eat?" she asked.

"I need to get back to the hotel and get ready for tonight."

Disappointment turned her face sour.

"You have plenty of time."

He glanced out of the window. It was snowing again.

"So unusual," she whispered staring at the falling flakes with him.

"Do I need to call a car service?"

"Gaspar will take you where you need to go. Won't you stay longer, Erik? Please?"

Her face was lovely with the glow of their rough sex. Erik hated the man's guts but he had to admit that his cousin had great taste in women.

He sat on the edge of the bed and put on his shoes.

"How long you been with that nigga?"

"T'Challa? We've been on and off for two years."

"You love him?"

"I do. I'm not in love with him though. He makes that difficult."

"How?"

"He only loves himself and some other woman back in his country."

"Where is he from?"

"Wakanda."

"Have you ever been there?"

"No. It's a poor country and I don't do poor. He won't take me there anyway."

"Why not?"

She shrugged.

"He makes excuses. His family is well off. I think his father is a despot. He's been in power forever."

"He have any siblings?"

"A little sister."

This was news to him.

"What's her name?"

"Aren't you a curious one?"

"Sizing up my competition."

"Her name is Shuri. He's crazy about her. Brags about her all the time."

"Have you met his father?"

"King T'Chaka is T'Challa times ten."

She laughed. He tried to smile. His stomach was tight.

"I met him in London once. With T'halla's stepmother Queen Ramonda."

"He re-married…." Erik pondered the information. Another heir. And a wife that could get in the way.

"You know about them?"

"What?"

"You said 'She re-married'. Like that was important to you."

"Nah. Just curious. He seems so uptight."

"He can be a delight…when he gets his way."

"Why do you need a break from him?"

"He's intense. Like you. That can grow tiresome. But the sex is worth it."

She fell onto her back and stared at the ceiling.

"Thank God you both weren't in the same room. It was like watching two male Betta fish circle each other. The expression on his face though when you wouldn't leave! He's never been denied anything in his life!"

Erik stood from the bed. Vivienne crawled over to him and sat up on her knees holding out her arms. He kissed her lips but didn't hug her. She pouted.

"C'mon now, I can't get cum on my clothes."

She sat back on her heels.

"I enjoyed your company," she said.

"I enjoyed yours."

"Can I see you again?" she asked.

"Depends on Tony. We're here a few more days then it's back to L.A."

"I want you to call me."

"If I can. I will—"

"No. You call me. Or I will kidnap you again."

She cradled her breasts.

"You're the one who's spoiled," he said.

She didn't deny it.

###

The private room in the private Gentlemen's club reeked of pungent cigars, cognac, and tired old man cologne doused too liberally on pale pampered skin.

Erik tugged on the tie he had to wear wishing he had some good weed to smoke to help him focus. Tony sat near him cradling a Cuban cigar. The room was filled with high rollers from Saudi Arabia, China, Australia, Argentina, and South Africa. The card table and the dealer was set with chips. They all waited for Prince Francesco. He was late.

Erik's leg began to bounce and Tony kicked the bottom of his chair to make him stop.

"Forgive us!"

The Prince strolled in and Erik was surprised to see Princess Vivienne behind him. They both took seats at the poker table. He couldn't hide the delighted smile on his face when the Princess looked up and saw him sitting across from her.

"My niece, Princess Vivienne. I know the rules say men only, but I couldn't deny you all a chance to play with the best."

Small head bows were given to Vivienne but her eyes were only on Erik's.

The moment all their hands were dealt and bets were wagered, Erik learned the hard way. Never judge a book by its cover.

Princess Vivienne cleaned everyone's clock during the first two games, and as his pile of chips dwindled, Erik knew then that it was going to be a long night.

###

Tag List:

@fd-writes​​ @soufcakmistress​  @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tclaybon  @thadelightfulone​

@allhailqueennel​ @bartierbakarimobisson @cpwtwot​ @shookmcgookqueen @yoyolovesbucky​

@raysunshine78​ @the-illlest-blog​ @terrablaze514​  @l-auteuse​ @amirra88​ @jimizwidow​  @janelledarling​

@chaneajoyyy​  @sweetestdream92  @purple-apricots​  @blackpinup22​  @hennessystevens-udaku​

@scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade​ @bugngiz​ @stariamrry​  @honeytoffee​ @meilintheempressofdreams​

@tyees​  @eye-raq​  @writerbee-ffs​  @chocolatedream30​  @childishgambinaa​  @mygirlrenee​ @thewaysheis​—awkward

@tchallasbabymama​

[marvelbang]

Cosmic Latte by meshkol, art by Violettavonviolet

Cosmic Latte (54782 words) by meshkol

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Howard Stark/Maria Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Edwin Jarvis, Maria Stark, Howard Stark, Maria Hill, James "Rhodey" Rhodes

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Modern Royalty, presidental au, Alternate Universe – Presidental AU, Prince Tony Stark, President Steve Rogers, Protective Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark Lives, Maria Stark Lives, Princess Maria Stark, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Steve has zero chill, Joseph Rogers' A+ Parenting, Past Child Abuse, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Nightmares, Politics

Series: Part 1 of

Presidental AUs

Summary:

Steve Rogers, the President of the United States and leader of the Avengers, is looking forward to meeting with the family of Issac Stark, the only connection he has to the friend who helped get him behind enemy lines and rescue Bucky from the clutches of the Red Skull. It’s a bit of a diplomatic nightmare to be sure, as Issac’s son had married the Princess of Monaco and Steve’s the sitting president, but Steve’s nothing if not determined to keep the memory of Issac alive through stories and memories to the people who knew him best, and he’s looking forward to getting to know the family Issac had always wanted.

But during his pseudo-holiday to the Principality of Monaco, he gets to know Issac’s grandson Tony, the heir presumptive to the Monégasque throne, a man so vibrant and expressive and brilliant that Steve can’t help but be sucked into his orbit. It doesn’t take long for Steve to fall in love – and expose the rotten underbelly of Howard Stark in the process – and despite the fact that a relationship with a foreign prince has to be an impossible fantasy for someone like Steve, perhaps there is a chance that he can have his happily ever after nonetheless.

Art by Violettavonviolet is embedded in the fic.

[duchessofostergotlands]

Hey Jess! I hope you’re doing well. I know you don’t know the intimate details of people you’ve never met haha but considering you’re a Beatrice Borromeo fan, I was wondering if you knew her relationship with her side of the family? I know she’s atheist and progressive, was she ostracized for her beliefs? Has she ever exposed corruption within the Borromeo family? I don’t really know much about her outside of the Monégasque family

Hey :) I’ve been better anon, I won’t lie. A rough couple of days. Anyway, that’s a great question and not one I’ve had before! As far as I know they’re all very close. Beatrice’s family are not conventional either - her father and mother have been together for decades and have two kids but have never married which is quite rare in noble circles, especially given the Borromeo family’s long history with the Catholic Church. Her corruption work has mostly been directed towards the mafia and then towards the pretender to the Italian throne Prince Vittorio Emanuele and his son Prince Emanuele Filiberto (who is married to Clotilde Courau who I love for fashion reasons). I know that photographs can only show so much but I’ve gathered some photos of Beatrice and her family:

She was very close to her grandmother Marta Marzotto who died in 2016. When searching for images I found the lovely picture I uploaded earlier but there are others:

She has four siblings - a brother, Carlo, and three half sisters Isabella, Lavinia and Matilde. Carlo has done rally driving with Pierre and Beatrice is very close to her sisters- particularly Lavinia - who are all quite well known on the social circuit in Europe. With Carlo and their grandmother:

With Isabella:

Isabella and Lavinia:

Lavinia:

Lavinia and Matilde:

Matilde:

She’s also close to her in laws, especially her brother’s wife Marta Ferri:

Her mother Paola Marzotto:

There are less photographs of her with her dad Carlo but he’s included in some shots with all the siblings:

[leqclerc]

I was thinking... What's Nora's surname? Did they pick one or does she have both?

And then I thought, "Wait, did they change their surnames when they got married?" It's so easy for me to imagine Charles wanting to have Seb's surname because he always imagined to take his husband's surname and well it's Seb! Even more reasons to do it! But at the same time I feel like Seb wouldn't let him without taking Charles's surname and make it an equal thing.

And then I also thought, "Would this show up on racing records and FIA documents?" Imagine a bored intern or an over-achieving newbie going through random files and stumbling on a certain Charles Leclerc-Vettel (or Vettel-Leclerc) SHDDHFHFFH 👀

Ohh, this is a very valid question, actually! 👀

I guess it depends if we’re going with the more realistic version of them keeping their relationship a secret, or if we assume society would be able to accept them as a family and they (eventually) go public. I think for fic purposes (because I swear at some point I’m going to throw this all into one big fic) I’m going to keep it more realistic and have her be a Vettel-Leclerc (posing as Eléonore Vettel) and have them keep their own surnames just because it’s easier. I imagine their $$$ would afford them, uh, some leniency in terms of the more eyebrow-raising paperwork. 

That being said...I’m so soft at the thought of them actually, like, having to discuss this and work out how they’re going to do it. Please, But at the same time I feel like Seb wouldn't let him without taking Charles's surname and make it an equal thing. I--- 🥺

I think you’re right, and in an ideal world Charles would happily take Seb’s surname, but for the sake of realism I’m going to say they decided not to do that, mostly because they’re such public figures, and it would be too much of a risk. Plus all the racing records and FIA documents like you mentioned...It would be a mess 😳

I was also thinking about this because like...Okay fair enough, I don’t really know how adoption works exactly, but surely there’s a good bit of paperwork involved, even if you’re rich and famous and can afford to cut corners, right? And they’d probably have to register her as a little Monégasque citizen...And it’s like...Does Prince Albert know his driver married Sebastian Vettel and then adopted a baby with him? Like does he just...live with that knowledge? ashdfgjr In my mind she has dual German and Monégasque citizenship because they try to keep things fair and equal (don’t ask me about the administrative procedures because honestly I’m just ~handwaving~ it all.) Again depending on if they’ve gone public or not they’d let her decide which flag she wants to race under (because of course she starts karting.)

But also I love this idea and I can see it being like a...funny little “deleted scene”? Or “blooper”? Or whatever the writing-equivalent of that is. And then a dramatic fade to black. It’s too good! lmao

[tcddycellario]

Look who’s been captured; it’s Théodore “Teddy” Cellario, a 27 year old prince of Monaco. He has been described as warm and irresponsible. Hopefully he doesn’t cause any trouble.

**yo yo yo friends it’s riley back at it again ( after a small eternity ) with a soft trashcan of a human for your reading enjoyment.

— basic facts: he’s 27, the youngest child of the monégasque royal family, thinks his name sounds like it came out of a comic book, and absolutely despises being called theodore by anyone but his family ( and even then it takes a lot for him to tolerate it because it’s usually happening if he’s in trouble ). he’s far too mellow for his own good, is demiromantic and has absolutely no idea how to be in a relationship with someone if he doesn’t know them which makes the whole idea of being betrothed absolutely horrifying to him.

— teddy was an exceedingly rambunctious, happy child. he had nothing to worry about in the world, adored his brother and sister and their parents, and delighted in everything that was good about his world and his upbringing. his mother’s death when he was five years old was just about as devastating as any event could be for a five year old and though he absolutely adores his stepmother he does have occasional bouts of missing his mother that are difficult for him to shake.

— he’s always been more of a troublemaker than grace; he doesn’t exactly intend to cause as much trouble as he inevitably does, he simply enjoys fun and shirking his princely responsibilities in every way he can because he doesn’t know how to handle the weight of an entire country on his shoulders. with his oldest brother having returned after abdicating the throne and the changing dynamic of their family with grace no longer next in line to be queen - teddy doesn’t quite know where he fits in anymore. he knows he’ll likely be married off to someone and that scares him more than he’d ever admit. so he turned to partying and getting into trouble as quietly as possible to make himself less appealing for betrothal.

— he was able to forget at least some it his worry on the matter when he went away to england to study where he reconnected with his best friend and really allowed himself the space to grow into everything he wanted to be as a man.

—  at twenty-seven he is very slowly starting to realize that he needs to get his shit together in terms of all of his bad habits and grace’s kidnapping only cemented that fact for him. he was equally devastated by her disappearance as he was by their mother’s death and in the time before he himself was kidnapped he began to attend meetings with his father, studying up on all of the responsibilities that would be his should he inherent the crown from his father or brother.

— he wasn’t exactly the easiest to deal with after having been kidnapped - for all of his ordinary mellowness he was fiercely opposed to being taken by pirates and has found himself sporting his fair share of bumps and bruises from his bad behavior on the journey to the island. he isn’t resigned to his fate by any means but the prospect of seeing his sister again, and the friends he’d already lost to the island excites him more than is arguably appropriate for the situation as a whole.

— basically: teddy’s a mellow, goofy, brilliantly intelligent person who genuinely doesn’t want to be on the island but isn’t going to complain about it so long as he and his sister are safe, and he’ll do just about anything to ensure that that doesn’t change if he can help it. he’s prone to rattling of cheesy jokes and silly puns to make people laugh, will happily ramble on about the history of various places and people and things and genuinely wants to spend his adult life as a historian if he can find a way to do it. he’s a troublemaker to some extent, always has a solution for anything that comes his way, and is genuinely trying to make the best of the situation he’s found himself in.

**that’s all for this little doofus for the time being, so if anyone wants to plot with him or what have you please feel free to shoot me a message!