#a frightening ordeal
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aristocraticvision · 1 year ago
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Chapter 364: The Biopsy
Stephen shivered as he waited for the nurse to return to continue preparing him for his procedure, wondering why medical facilities always seemed to be so damn cold.
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He listened as two members of his security detail spoke in hushed tones beyond the curtain of his room. He’d had a difficult time slipping out of the palace without his usual army of assistants and security staff, but, having taken Bixby into his confidence, had arranged to keep his escort minimal.
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Despite the smaller entourage, the presence of a security team in the pre-op area was creating quite a bit of attention and curiosity among patients and staff alike. Fortunately, few were brave enough to try to sneak a peek at the man behind the curtain.
“Your royal highness,” Dr. Philson said, entering Stephen’s room. “Are you comfortable, sir?”
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“As much as can be expected,” Stephen replied. “Are we almost ready to begin?”
“Your anesthesiologist will be here in a moment,” Philson said. “Once you’re asleep, we’ll get started. The procedure is relatively simple and should last no more than thirty to forty-five minutes.”
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“Good,” Stephen said. “I need to get back to the palace before Jessica asks where I've gone. It’s been difficult keeping this from her the past few weeks. I know she suspects something is wrong, but I didn't want to worry her needlessly."
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“Again, your royal highness, I wish you would have confided in your wife about your condition,” Philson replied. "She might have been a comfort to you through this ordeal."
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“My condition?” Stephen asked. “And what condition is that exactly, doctor? Until I know what I’m facing, I simply don’t think it’s fair to create any more stress than necessary for my family.”
“Of course, sir,” Philson said. He’d had this particular conversation with the prince too many times before to think he would gain any traction this time. “Hopefully, today's biopsy will offer some clarity.”
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A nurse entered and smiled.
“Dr. Henstead, your anesthesiologist, will be here in just a moment,” she said.
“Good,” Stephen said. “I just want to get this over with.”
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Only a few minutes later, Dr. Philson approached a sleeping Prince Stephen in the procedure room. Before touching a single instrument, he bowed his head and whispered a quick prayer to whatever deity might be listening. He wasn’t a particularly religious man, but in this case, he felt it worth a try.
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He sighed.
“All right, ladies and gentlemen,” he said. “Let’s begin.”
CHAPTER 1 | BEGINNING OF PART 4 | PREV | NEXT
Continent of Oceana | History of Weston | History of Corwyn | History of Torenth | History of Allycia
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gribbo · 5 months ago
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omg omg. 32 for silk ♥️
32. dust motes
"What is the worth," asks the lich, "of a single mortal's life?"
Shadowheart sparks a fire in her hand. Vally Dell, self-styled Ranger of Reaching, reaches for her knife. The minstrel who's somehow found himself in such company slides down the wall, his legs giving out halfway, and scrabbles for the music-box he'd dropped. His hand sinks to the wrist in a fur of dust. A cog rolls past his foot and clatters against a loose floorstone.
"I ask again." The wrinkled leather of the lich's face shifts. Its voice is less dry than the rest of it: mild and unhurried, a water-wheel turned by a strange current. "What is the worth—"
"A life is worth its weight in pain," snaps Shadowheart, thrusting the torch of her hand out. Her terror burns behind the minstrel's eye. Even the white flame, leaping high, trembles as it sweeps the shadows from every corner. "Come any closer, monster, and yours will break the scale."
Vally jogs her weight warily from foot to foot. "I'll happen he's already weighed, flower."
He needs that cog, the minstrel thinks. The nature of clockwork: one missing piece, no matter how small, and you’re back to squinting at sundials. It's something Jem had told him once, crawling on her filthy workroom floor after something minuscule and bright; he had knelt too, blacking the knees of his best breeches, and found the sprung spring winking at them under a trolley.
"Depends on the life," Vally's saying to the thing that will finally kill them, "doesn't it?"
The minstrel reaches across the floor. The lilt of Shadowheart's voice—she'd sing in a lovely coloratura, he suspects—muddles with the noise of their thoughts, his and hers and Vally's, and the steady drip of groundwater from the ceiling of the crypt. He misses the cog twice. His head throbs; he'd woken sticky-faced and sick on the riverbank, those hours ago. His eye's scabbed shut. All the blood's crusted his hair into a sort of plaster—
"Thy companions have answered," says the lich, leaning down to him. The eyes that should have putrefied—grave, curious eyes, empty of malice—glint inches from his own. "Wilt thou?"
It's not going to kill them, he understands with a horrible lurch. It means them no harm at all. He'll soon have to get up again.
Shadowheart's not realized it, yet. Her voice rings out harsh and desperate. "Say something."
He has no head for riddles even when his head's on straight. Still, it's a simple one. In a cupped hand fuzzed with crypt-dust, he holds out the cog.
[send me a number, and i'll write a microfic using the word or phrase!]
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languor-em · 2 years ago
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I recently picked up knitting because I'm obsessed with yarn apparently - But as most of you probably know, I've also been playing Elden Ring and recently beat Godrick
All this to say, I had a really weird stress dream the other night where I was desperately trying to knit a bunch of mittens for Godrick, but he kept grafting on more hands right when I'd finally finished enough for him. Very stressful, 0/10, would not recommend
At least he was being fairly polite about the whole ordeal though suahsgahw
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nessvn · 2 months ago
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I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABT RAYMONDE
#p.s.#la robe de laine#how she loses her agency the moment cernay sets his sights on her and only gets it back in death#raymonde!!! she accepts a proposal against her best instincts bc of pressure from her mother and from cernay.#from the moment she marries him she becomes his plaything almost#and it happens slowly but he literally consumes her in his desire to turn her into his perfect wife the perfect high society woman#which she goes along with out of love? obligation? but not out of her own desires#when he starts vouvoying her she's shocked and hurt but goes along with it bc it's what he's decided they should do#she goes to paris with him even though she expresses how frightened the idea makes her. 'à paris j'aurai peur...'#she lets him sculpt what should have been a tender intimate image of her#only for him to guilt her into letting him show off his artwork even after she begs him 'ne me livrez pas' bc she can't bear it being seen#she goes to his salons even though she hates them. and wears dresses that she feels naked and exposed in. all bc he demands it of her#and you can argue that she does have agency bc she lets him do these things to her but is it a choice if he's manipulating her?#and if she protests almost every time?#sometimes only non-verbally sure but through his narration we knowwww that he knows she doesn't want it and pushes her anyways#bc she's not a person to him she's a stupid little girl that he's doing a FAVOUR to by marrying and by putting her through these ordeals#and weirdly enough her death is the one part of their relationship that was entirely her choice.#'j'avais accepté pour ne plus t'être à charge...de mourir...ne le vois-tu pas ?'#although FUCK now that i'm thinking abt it even that was not actually her will.#bc she doesnt choose to die for his sake or for his freedom. she ACCEPTS that he's going to kill her for the sake of his freedom...#and it doesn't matter the method of the killing. he's the one rains violence after violence down on her soul#until her heart gives out#and her acceptance isn't really a choice.#idk like cernay hears the lord burleigh story and the 'elle avait désiré s'en aller pour me débarasser d'elle' and sees raymonde in it#but that's HIS perspective HIS justification HIS narration.#all we can say based on raymonde's words is that there was a time that she did not want to die#and even when she is dying this is something she at best 'accepts' not something she demanded.....#even cernay saying 'quel était ce mystérieux pacte qu'elle avait consenti une première fois...qu'elle renouvelait en actions de grâce...'#'pacte/consenti' that's his narration those are his words....#SORRY SORRY THIS BOOK MAKES ME INSANE.
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0palfires · 1 year ago
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on one hand i want to get likes and follows, on the other hand then people will know I exist and look at the things I post :/
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alaahillis12 · 2 months ago
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Urgent help is needed for my family🚨
✅ Verified campaign – please check the end of the story 🔍📌
I appeal to you from the bottom of my heart to support my family during this harsh ordeal amidst the war in Gaza. The situation here is extremely tragic; we are suffering from severe food shortages, life-threatening malnutrition, contaminated water that is unsafe to drink, and a frightening spread of diseases.
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The head of the family has been injured in the war and has become disabled, needing an urgent operation abroad.
Any assistance, no matter how small, can save a life. You can contribute by donating or even by sharing this message so that it reaches those who can help. Please, do not hesitate to give a helping hand. Your humanity is our only source of strength.♥️♥️♥️
Vetted by @Gaza-evacuation-funds, my number verified on the list ( #4 ) and posted on my profile.
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https://gofund.me/3c02770c
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g0dr0t · 1 year ago
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One thing about me is that i am really afraid of ticks. Another thing about me is i have what they call “obsessive compulsive disorder”
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roseinthewoods · 2 years ago
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Dentists are Sadists.
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pucksandpower · 6 months ago
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To Hell With Duty
Lewis Hamilton x soulmate!Reader
Summary: you’ve always known that being Princess of the UK means that a soulmate is a luxury you can’t afford … but then you meet your soulmate and decide that some things are worth turning your back on duty for
Warnings: abusive family dynamics
Note: I promised to write something in honor of Lewis’ win and this was born (now I’m tempted to make a soulmate AU series)
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The sun blazes overhead as you step out of the sleek black car, your designer heels clicking against the pavement. The roar of engines and the excited chatter of the crowd at Silverstone envelop you, but you can barely hear them over the pounding of your own heart.
“Your Royal Highness, this way please,” a smartly dressed aide gestures towards the paddock area.
You nod, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. As you walk, you absently rub your wrist, feeling the slight raised bumps of your soulmate mark beneath the carefully applied concealer.
“I wish you didn’t have to hide it,” your best friend and lady-in-waiting, Sophie, whispers beside you.
“You know I don’t have a choice,” you murmur back, glancing around to ensure no one overheard.
The memory of your brother’s ordeal flashes through your mind, as vivid and painful as the day it happened ...
“No, please! You can’t do this!” Edward’s anguished cries echoed through the palace halls.
You huddled in your room, hands pressed over your ears, trying to block out the sound. But nothing could drown out your brother’s screams as the royal physician burned away his soulmate tattoo.
Later, when you snuck into his room, you found him curled up on his bed, cradling his bandaged wrist.
“Eddie?” You whispered, your voice small and frightened.
He looked up at you, his eyes red and puffy. “Y/N ... I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
You climbed onto the bed beside him. “Why did they do it? Why can’t you be with your soulmate?”
Edward sighed, pulling you close. “Because we’re royals, little sister. Our marriages are about duty, not love. Soulmates ... they’re a luxury we can’t afford.”
“But that’s not fair!” You protested.
“No, it’s not,” he agreed, his voice hollow. “But it’s the price we pay for our position. Promise me something, Y/N. If you ever find your soulmate ... run. Run far away and don’t look back.”
The memory fades as Sophie gently squeezes your arm, bringing you back to the present.
“Are you okay?” She asks, concern etched on her face.
You take a deep breath, straightening your shoulders. “I’m fine. Let’s get this over with.”
As you make your way through the paddock, you can’t help but feel a twinge of envy at the carefree laughter and excitement around you. Everywhere you look, people are proudly displaying their soulmate tattoos, some comparing them with friends, others stealing glances at strangers, wondering if today might be the day they meet their perfect match.
“Your Royal Highness,” a race official greets you with a bow. “We’re honored to have you here today. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the VIP area.”
You nod, allowing yourself to be led through the crowded paddock. The official drones on about the day’s schedule, but your mind wanders.
“What do you think your soulmate is like?” Sophie had asked you once, years ago, when you were both giggling teenagers.
“I don’t know,” you had replied, tracing the words on your wrist. “But I hope they’re kind. And funny. Someone who sees me for who I am, not just my title.”
“You’ll find them one day,” Sophie had said confidently. “And when you do, it’ll be magical.”
Now, surrounded by the bustle and excitement of race day, that conversation feels like a lifetime ago. You’ve long since resigned yourself to the fact that you’ll never meet your soulmate. Even if you did, you could never act on it. The risk is too great.
Lost in thought, you don’t notice the figure rounding the corner until it’s too late. You collide with a solid chest, stumbling backward. Strong hands grip your arms, steadying you before you can fall.
You look up, an apology on your lips, and find yourself staring into the most captivating brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Time seems to stand still as you gaze at each other, the world fading away around you.
And then he speaks, his voice low and warm.
“Whoa there, careful Princess. I’ve got you.”
***
Your heart stops as Lewis’ words sink in. They’re an exact match to the tattoo hidden beneath layers of concealer on your wrist. For a moment, you’re frozen, lost in his warm brown eyes, your mind reeling with the implications of what just happened.
Then reality comes crashing down. You can’t do this. You can’t put him in danger. You can’t risk the pain your brother went through.
“I ... I have to go,” you stammer, pulling away from his gentle grip.
Lewis’ brow furrows in confusion. “Wait, what’s wrong?”
But you’re already backing away, panic rising in your chest. “I’m sorry, I can’t ... this isn’t ... I have to leave.”
You turn and run, pushing past startled onlookers, your heart pounding in your ears. Behind you, you hear Lewis call out.
“Princess, wait! Your words ... they’re on my wrist!”
You falter for a moment, his words piercing through your panic. But no, it doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. You keep running.
“Y/N, please!” Lewis’ voice is closer now. He’s chasing after you. “I know you felt it too. We need to talk about this!”
You duck around a corner, trying to lose him in the maze of the paddock. But Lewis is faster, more familiar with the layout. He catches up to you in a quiet area behind one of the garages.
“Princess,” he says, slightly out of breath. “Please, just hear me out.”
You shake your head, tears threatening to spill. “You don’t understand. We can’t do this. My family ... they’ll never allow it. They’ll hurt you, or worse.”
Lewis takes a cautious step closer. “What do you mean? Why would your family hurt me?”
“Because you’re my soulmate!” The words burst out before you can stop them. “And royals aren’t allowed to be with their soulmates. It’s all about duty and arranged marriages. They ... they burned off my brother’s mark when he found his soulmate.”
Lewis’ eyes widen in horror. “That’s barbaric. They can’t do that to you.”
You laugh bitterly. “They’re the royal family. They can do whatever they want.”
“No,” Lewis says firmly. “They can’t. Because I won’t let them.”
You look at him, confused. “What?”
Lewis takes your hand gently, his touch sending sparks through your body. “Y/N, I’m not just British. I’m also a Brazilian citizen. And in Brazil, there are laws protecting soulmates. If we’re truly matched, which I believe we are, you automatically gain Brazilian citizenship too. Your family can’t touch you there.”
Hope flares in your chest, but you quickly squash it down. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll find a way. They always do.”
“Not this time,” Lewis insists. “Look, I have a race to drive soon, but after that, we can fly to Brazil immediately. I’ll keep you safe until then.”
You shake your head. “It’s too dangerous. If they find out ...”
“They won’t,” Lewis promises. “My driver’s room is private and secure. You can hide there until after the race. No one will think to look for you there.”
You hesitate, torn between hope and fear. “I don’t know ...”
Lewis squeezes your hand gently. “I know we just met, but I’ve been waiting my whole life to find you. Please, give us a chance. Let me protect you.”
You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. Slowly, you nod. “Okay. But we have to be careful.”
Relief washes over Lewis’ face. “We will be. Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe.”
He leads you quickly through the paddock, taking care to avoid busy areas. You keep your head down, heart racing every time you pass someone. Finally, you reach a door marked with Lewis’ name.
“Here we are,” he says, ushering you inside. “Lock the door behind me and don’t open it for anyone but me. I’ll knock three times, pause, then twice more. Okay?”
You nod, taking in the small but comfortable room. “Okay. But Lewis, what about your race? You can’t miss it because of me.”
He smiles reassuringly. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll race, and then we’ll leave right after. It’ll be fine.”
“But what if something goes wrong? What if they find me?” The fear creeps back into your voice.
Lewis takes your hands in his, his touch grounding you. “Hey, look at me. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise. We’re soulmates, remember? That means we’re in this together now.”
You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. “I’m scared.”
“I know,” he says softly. “But you’re also incredibly brave. You’ve lived with this fear your whole life, and you’re still standing. We can do this.”
A small smile tugs at your lips. “We’ve known each other for all of ten minutes and you’re already saying ‘we’?”
Lewis grins. “Well, that’s what happens when you meet your soulmate, I guess. Everything changes in an instant.”
You laugh softly, feeling some of the tension leave your body. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Listen,” Lewis says, his tone turning serious. “I know this is all happening very fast, and I don’t expect you to fall in love with me right away or anything. We’ll take things as slow as you want once we’re safe. But right now, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”
You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and determination. Slowly, you nod. “Yes, I think I can.”
“Good,” Lewis smiles. “Now, I have to go get ready for the race. Remember, three knocks, pause, then two more. Don’t open for anyone else.”
“I won’t,” you promise. “Be careful out there, okay?”
Lewis’ smile widens. “Always am, Princess. I’ll see you soon.”
As he leaves, you lock the door behind him, your heart still racing. You sink onto the small couch, trying to process everything that’s happened in the last hour.
You’ve found your soulmate. After years of hiding your tattoo, of living in fear of it being burned away like your brother’s, you’ve actually met the person whose words are etched on your skin.
And not just any person. Lewis Hamilton. World-famous driver, activist, and fashion icon. You’ve seen him on TV, of course, admired his skill on the track and his passion for social justice. But you never imagined ...
You rub your wrist absently, feeling the slight raised bumps of your mark beneath the concealer. For the first time in years, you allow yourself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can have the life you’ve always dreamed of.
But doubt creeps in. What if Lewis is wrong? What if Brazilian citizenship isn’t enough to protect you from your family’s influence? What if they find you before you can leave?
You pace the small room, alternating between hope and fear. The sound of engines revving in the distance tells you the race is about to start. You find yourself holding your breath every time you hear footsteps pass by the door, terrified it might be palace security coming to drag you away.
Time crawls by agonizingly slowly. You try to distract yourself by watching the race on the small TV in the corner, but every time the camera focuses on Lewis’ car, your heart leaps into your throat. You silently urge him to be careful, to finish the race quickly so you can escape.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear it. Three knocks, a pause, then two more. You rush to the door, your hand hesitating for just a moment before you unlock it.
Lewis slips inside quickly, closing and locking the door behind him. He’s still in his race suit, his hair damp with sweat.
“Are you okay?” You ask immediately. “How was the race?”
Lewis grins. “I’m fine, and I won. But that’s not important right now. We need to go.”
He grabs a bag from a locker and starts shoving clothes into it. “I’ve arranged for a private jet to take us to São Paulo. We need to leave now, before anyone realizes you’re missing.”
You nod, your heart racing again. “Okay. What do we do?”
“I’ve got some clothing here that might fit you,” Lewis says, pulling out a hoodie and sweatpants. “Put these on over your clothes. We’ll need to be discreet getting to the airport.”
As you change, Lewis continues talking. “Once we’re in Brazil, we’ll be safe. There are strict laws protecting soulmates there. Your family won’t be able to touch you.”
“But what about your career?” You ask, suddenly realizing what he’s giving up. “You can’t just leave everything behind for me.”
Lewis pauses, looking at you intently. “Y/N, you’re my soulmate. That means you’re more important than any career, any amount of fame or money. We’ll figure out the details later, but right now, keeping you safe is all that matters.”
His words make your heart swell. You’ve never had anyone put you first like this before. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Lewis smiles. “Just trust me, okay?”
You nod, feeling a sense of calm settle over you despite the chaotic situation. “I do trust you. Let’s go.”
Lewis takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Ready?”
You take a deep breath, thinking of all you’re leaving behind — your family, your duty, the only life you’ve ever known. But as you look at Lewis, you realize you’re also stepping into a new life. One where you’re free to be yourself, to love who you want, to follow your heart.
“Ready,” you say firmly.
And with that, Lewis opens the door, and together, you step out into your new future.
***
The private jet hums softly as it cuts through the night sky, carrying you away from everything you’ve ever known. You’re curled up against Lewis on the plush leather seat, your head resting on his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear is oddly comforting, grounding you in this surreal moment.
Lewis’ arm is wrapped around you, his hand gently stroking your back. With your free hand, you trace the lines of his soulmate tattoo — your first words to him, now etched forever on his skin.
“I still can’t believe this is real,” you murmur, your fingers following the curves of each letter.
Lewis chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through his chest. “I know what you mean. I’ve imagined meeting you so many times, but nothing could have prepared me for the reality.”
You look up at him, a mixture of emotions swirling in your chest. “Weren’t you afraid? When you realized who I was?”
“Afraid?” Lewis considers for a moment. “No, not afraid. Excited, nervous, maybe a little overwhelmed. But not afraid.” He pauses, his expression growing serious. “But you were. You’re still afraid now, aren’t you?”
You nod slowly, dropping your gaze back to his wrist. “I’ve been afraid for so long, I’m not sure I know how to stop.”
Lewis’ hand moves to cup your face gently, encouraging you to look at him again. “Will you tell me about it? Help me understand?”
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “It’s ... it’s not a pleasant story.”
“I’m here,” Lewis says softly. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”
His words, so simple yet so profound, give you the courage to begin. “It started with my brother, Edward. He was always the rebellious one, you know? Always pushing boundaries, questioning traditions. When he found his soulmate, he was over the moon. Her name was Lily, and she was ... she was perfect for him. Kind, funny, passionate about the same causes he was.”
You pause, the memory of your brother’s joy contrasting sharply with what came after. Lewis waits patiently, his presence a comforting anchor.
“For a few months, they managed to keep it a secret. But eventually, someone saw them together. Word got back to our parents and ...” You shudder, remembering that awful day. “They were furious. They gave Edward an ultimatum: give up Lily or give up his place in the line of succession.”
“That’s horrible,” Lewis murmurs, his arm tightening around you.
You nod, continuing, “Edward refused. He said Lily was more important than any throne. So they ... they decided to take matters into their own hands.”
Your voice breaks as you recount what happened next. “They had the royal physician burn off Edward’s soulmate mark. I can still hear his screams echoing through the palace. It was ... it was torture.”
Lewis’ body tenses beneath you, his voice tight with anger when he speaks. “They had no right. How could they do that to their own son?”
“They said it was for the good of the country,” you reply bitterly. “That royals can’t afford the luxury of soulmates. Our marriages are political tools, nothing more.”
“What happened to Edward and Lily?” Lewis asks gently.
You sigh heavily. “Edward was never the same after that. The spark in him just ... died. He does his duty now, makes the appearances he’s supposed to, but it’s like he’s just going through the motions. And Lily ... last I heard, she moved to Australia. I think being anywhere near the UK was too painful for her.”
Lewis is quiet for a moment, processing your words. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Y/N. No wonder you were scared when you realized we were soulmates.”
You nod, feeling the weight of years of fear and secrecy lifting as you share your story. “That’s not even the worst of it,” you admit softly.
Lewis looks at you, concern etched on his face. “There’s more?”
You take another deep breath, steeling yourself for the hardest part of the story. “My father ... he had an older sister. Aunt Margaret. I never met her, but I found out about her a few years ago.”
Lewis listens intently as you continue, “She found her soulmate when she was young, maybe 20 or so. And she refused to give him up, no matter what my grandparents said. They tried everything — threats, bribes, even attempting to arrange another match for her. But Margaret stood firm.”
“She sounds brave,” Lewis comments.
You nod, a sad smile touching your lips. “She was. But bravery wasn’t enough. One night, both Margaret and her soulmate disappeared. The official story was that they’d eloped, run off to start a new life together. But that wasn’t the truth.”
Lewis’ body tenses again, as if bracing for what’s coming. You press on, the words tumbling out now that you’ve started.
“Margaret’s soulmate was ... dealt with. Permanently. And Margaret herself was institutionalized. Locked away in a private facility, hidden from the world.”
“That’s ... that’s monstrous,” Lewis breathes, horror evident in his voice.
You nod, feeling tears prick at your eyes. “When I found out, I couldn’t believe it. I managed to find out where she was being held and I ... I visited her.”
Lewis’ hand resumes its gentle stroking of your back, encouraging you to continue.
“She was ... god, Lewis, she was just a shell. Decades of being locked away, of being separated from her soulmate ... it had broken her. She didn’t even seem to realize I was there.”
A tear escapes, rolling down your cheek. Lewis gently wipes it away with his thumb.
“That’s why I was so scared,” you whisper. “I’ve seen what my family is capable of. What lengths they’ll go to in order to keep up appearances, to maintain their idea of duty.”
Lewis is quiet for a long moment, his arms tightening around you protectively. When he finally speaks, his voice is filled with a mix of anger and determination.
“Listen to me, Y/N,” he says firmly. “What happened to your brother, to your aunt ... it was wrong. Cruel and wrong. But I promise you, I will not let that happen to us.”
You look up at him, seeing the fierce protectiveness in his eyes. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because we’re not alone in this,” Lewis explains. “We have resources they don’t. My citizenship, for one. The laws protecting soulmates in Brazil. And beyond that, we have the power of public opinion.”
You frown, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”
Lewis shifts slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Think about it. Your family’s power comes from public support, right? What do you think would happen if the world found out they were separating soulmates, institutionalizing people?”
“It would be a scandal,” you realize, your eyes widening.
“Exactly,” Lewis nods. “We’re not helpless. If they try anything, we can fight back. We can tell our story, rally support. The world has changed a lot. People believe in the sanctity of soulmates now more than ever.”
His words spark a tiny flame of hope in your chest. “You really think we could do that?”
“I know we could,” Lewis says confidently. “But more than that, I don’t think we’ll have to. Your family isn’t stupid. They’ll realize the risk isn’t worth it. Especially not with someone as high-profile as me.”
You can’t help but chuckle at that. “Modest, aren’t you?”
Lewis grins, the tension of the moment breaking. “Hey, I’m just stating facts. Seven-time world champion, remember?”
You roll your eyes playfully, but then grow serious again. “Lewis ... thank you. For listening, for understanding. For not running away when you realized how complicated this all is.”
“Hey,” Lewis says softly, tilting your chin up so you’re looking directly into his eyes. “You’re my soulmate. That means we’re in this together, complications and all. I’m not going anywhere.”
His words wash over you, soothing fears you’ve carried for so long. For the first time, you allow yourself to truly believe that maybe, just maybe, you can have this. You can have him.
“So,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips. “What happens now?”
Lewis grins, his eyes twinkling with excitement and possibility. “Now? Now we start our adventure. We land in São Paulo, get your citizenship sorted out, and then ... well, then the world’s our oyster. We can go anywhere, do anything.”
“Anything?” You ask, the concept of such freedom almost dizzying.
“Anything,” Lewis confirms. “We could travel the world. Or we could find a quiet place to settle down if that’s what you prefer. We could work on charitable causes together, or you could pursue whatever dreams you’ve had to put aside because of your royal duties.”
The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more exciting than the last. “I ... I don’t even know where to start,” you admit.
Lewis chuckles, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We don’t have to decide everything right now. We’ve got time. For now, let’s just focus on getting to Brazil safely. We can figure out the rest as we go.”
You nod, settling back against his chest. The steady beat of his heart syncs with the hum of the jet engines, lulling you into a sense of peace you haven’t felt in years.
As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in the safety of your soulmate’s arms, you realize something. For the first time in your life, you’re not afraid of the future. Instead, you’re excited to see what it holds.
Whatever comes next, you’ll face it together. You and Lewis, two halves of a whole, finally united. The journey ahead may be uncertain, but with him by your side, you’re ready for anything.
***
As the private jet touches down on Brazilian soil, a mixture of excitement and nervousness flutters in your stomach. Lewis gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as the plane rolls to a stop.
“Ready?” He asks, his warm brown eyes meeting yours.
You take a deep breath and nod. “As I’ll ever be.”
The cabin door opens, and the humid Brazilian air rushes in. Lewis leads you down the steps, his hand never leaving yours. At the bottom, a tall woman in a crisp suit waits, her dark hair pulled back in a neat bun.
“Mr. Hamilton,” she greets with a warm smile, extending her hand. “And Your Royal Highness. Welcome to Brazil. I’m Dr. Raquel Santos from the Department of Soulmate Affairs.”
Lewis shakes her hand. “Dr. Santos, thank you for meeting us on such short notice.”
“Of course,” she replies, turning to you. “Your Highness, it’s an honor.”
You shake her hand, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “Please, just call me Y/N. I ... I’m not sure how much of a royal I am anymore.”
Dr. Santos’ smile softens. “Of course, Y/N. Why don’t we move this conversation somewhere more private? I have a car waiting to take us to a secure location where we can discuss everything in detail.”
You and Lewis follow her to a sleek black car. Once inside, Dr. Santos turns to face you both.
“First and foremost,” she begins, “I want to assure you that you are under the full protection of Brazilian law. As soon as you stepped off that plane, Y/N, you became entitled to all the rights and protections we offer to soulmates.”
“Just like that?” You ask, hardly daring to believe it could be so simple.
Dr. Santos nods. “Just like that. Brazil takes soulmate rights very seriously. We believe that the bond between soulmates is sacred and should be protected at all costs.”
Lewis leans forward, his expression serious. “What exactly does that protection entail? Y/N’s situation is ... complicated.”
“I understand,” Dr. Santos says. “Your assistant filled me in on some of the details during our phone call. Let me break down the key points for you.”
As the car glides through the streets of São Paulo, Dr. Santos begins her explanation.
“First, as the soulmate of a Brazilian citizen, Y/N is immediately eligible for Brazilian citizenship. We can begin the paperwork right away. This will provide an added layer of protection against any attempts at extradition.”
You feel a weight lift off your shoulders at her words. “So my family can’t force me to return to the UK?”
“Correct,” Dr. Santos confirms. “Brazil does not recognize any authority over soulmate bonds, not even royal decrees. Your status as a princess is irrelevant in the eyes of our law when it comes to your rights as a soulmate.”
Lewis squeezes your hand, a smile playing on his lips. “See? I told you we’d figure it out.”
Dr. Santos continues, “Furthermore, we have specific laws protecting soulmates from forced separation. Any attempt to interfere with your bond — be it physical separation, coercion, or even attempts to remove or alter your soulmate marks — is considered a serious crime in Brazil.”
You unconsciously rub your wrist where your tattoo is hidden. “What about ... what if they try to claim I’m mentally unfit or something? To try and invalidate my choices?”
Dr. Santos’ expression turns serious. “We’ve seen such tactics used before, unfortunately. That’s why we have safeguards in place. Any claims of mental unfitness would require extensive evaluation by multiple independent Brazilian psychiatrists.”
“And if they try to use their diplomatic influence?” Lewis asks.
“Brazil’s stance on soulmate rights is non-negotiable,” Dr. Santos states firmly. “We’ve stood up to pressure from other nations before, and we won’t hesitate to do so again. Your bond is protected here, regardless of external political pressures.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “This all sounds almost too good to be true.”
Dr. Santos smiles warmly. “I understand your caution, Y/N. But I assure you, these protections are very real and very enforceable. Now, let me explain some of the practical aspects of your situation.”
As the car turns onto a quieter street, Dr. Santos pulls out a tablet. “We’ll need to register your bond officially. This involves a simple verification process — usually just a visual confirmation of a matching font on your soulmate marks. Once registered, you’ll be issued official documentation of your bond status.”
“What does that documentation do?” You ask, leaning forward with interest.
“It serves several purposes,” Dr. Santos explains. “Firstly, it’s legal proof of your bond, which can be used to claim various rights and protections under Brazilian law. It also serves as a form of identification and can be used to expedite your citizenship application.”
Lewis nods thoughtfully. “And what about privacy? Given our high profiles, we’re concerned about information leaks.”
“An excellent question,” Dr. Santos says. “We take privacy very seriously, especially in high-profile cases like yours. All information related to your bond and Y/N’s presence in Brazil will be classified at the highest level. Only a select few government officials will have access to this information.”
You feel a surge of gratitude towards this woman and the country she represents. “Dr. Santos, I can’t thank you enough for all of this.”
She smiles warmly. “It’s my pleasure. Protecting soulmates is not just my job, it’s my passion. Now, let’s discuss some of the support services available to you.”
As the car pulls up to a nondescript building, Dr. Santos continues her explanation. “We offer counseling services specifically tailored for soulmates who have faced separation or threats to their bond. These services are completely confidential and can be invaluable in helping you process your experiences and adjust to your new life.”
You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I think ... I think that might be really helpful.”
Lewis wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “We’ll get through this together, love. Whatever you need.”
Dr. Santos leads you into the building and up to a comfortably furnished office. As you all take seats, she pulls out some forms.
“Now, I know this is a lot to take in,” she says gently. “But I’d like to start the official registration process, if you’re ready. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you’ll have legal protection.”
You look at Lewis, who gives you an encouraging nod. “Okay,” you say, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”
As Dr. Santos begins to explain the forms, a thought occurs to you. “Dr. Santos, what about Lewis? How will all of this affect his career?”
Dr. Santos smiles. “I’m glad you asked. Mr. Hamilton, as a Brazilian citizen, you have the right to have your soulmate with you wherever your career takes you. We can provide diplomatic assistance to ensure Y/N can travel with you freely, without risk of detention or forced return to the UK.”
Lewis grins, looking relieved. “That’s fantastic news. I was worried I might have to give up racing.”
“Not at all,” Dr. Santos assures him. “We believe that soulmates should support each other’s dreams and ambitions. Our laws are designed to facilitate that.”
As you begin filling out the forms, a sense of surreal calm washes over you. For the first time in your life, you feel truly protected, truly free to be with the person you’re meant to be with.
“There’s one more thing,” Dr. Santos says as you finish the paperwork. “As part of our soulmate protection program, we offer a safe house service. It’s a secure location where you can stay while you adjust to your new situation and decide on your next steps. Would you be interested in that?”
You and Lewis exchange a look. “I think that might be a good idea,” Lewis says. “At least for a little while, until we figure things out. My home here isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”
You nod in agreement. “Yes, please. That sounds perfect.”
Dr. Santos smiles, clearly pleased. “Excellent. I’ll make the arrangements right away. The location is completely confidential and guarded 24/7. You’ll be safe there.”
As she stands to make some calls, you turn to Lewis, feeling overwhelmed by everything that’s happened.
“Lewis,” you say softly, “I can’t believe you’ve done all this for me. You’ve turned your whole life upside down.”
He takes your hands in his, his eyes shining with emotion. “You’re my soulmate. My whole life was leading up to finding you. Everything else? It’s just details we’ll figure out together.”
You lean in, resting your forehead against his. For the first time since you can remember, you feel truly, completely safe. Protected not just by laws and governments, but by the love of the person you were always meant to find.
As Dr. Santos returns to finalize the arrangements, you realize that this isn’t just the end of your old life. It’s the beginning of something new, something wonderful. A life where you’re free to love, free to be yourself, free to explore the bond that fate has given you.
Whatever challenges lie ahead, you know now that you won’t face them alone. You have Lewis, you have the protection of Brazilian law, and most importantly, you have hope. The future, once so terrifying, now shines with possibility.
And as you leave the office hand in hand with Lewis, ready to start your new life together, you can’t help but smile. Because for the first time, you’re not running away from something.
You’re running towards it.
***
The roar of engines and the buzz of excitement fill the air as you stand at the entrance to the Autódromo José Carlos Pace. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of nerves and exhilaration coursing through your veins. Lewis’ hand is warm and steady in yours, a constant reminder that you’re not alone.
“Are you ready for this?” Lewis asks, his brown eyes searching yours with concern.
You take a deep breath, squeezing his hand. “As ready as I’ll ever be. It’s time to stop hiding.”
Lewis nods, a proud smile lighting up his face. “That’s my girl. Remember, whatever happens, we’re in this together.”
With one last reassuring squeeze, Lewis leads you into the paddock. The moment you step into view, a hush falls over the nearby crowd. Then, like a wave, whispers and exclamations ripple outward.
“Is that ...”
“It can’t be ...”
“The princess!”
“With Lewis Hamilton?”
Cameras flash in a frenzy, and reporters surge forward, held back only by the security team flanking you and Lewis. You keep your head high, your hand firmly in Lewis’ as you make your way through the paddock.
A brave reporter manages to shout a question over the commotion. “Your Highness! Is it true you’ve been in hiding in Brazil?”
You pause, looking to Lewis. He gives you an encouraging nod. Taking a deep breath, you turn to face the press.
“Yes, it’s true,” you say, your voice steady despite your nerves. “I’ve been in Brazil for the past few months, under the protection of the Brazilian government.”
The questions come rapid-fire after that.
“Why did you leave the UK?”
“Are you and Lewis Hamilton really soulmates?”
“What does the royal family have to say about this?”
Lewis steps forward, his arm protectively around your waist. “We’ll be holding a press conference later to address all your questions. For now, we ask for your patience and understanding as we prepare for the race.”
As you continue through the paddock, you can’t help but think back on the tumultuous months that led to this moment ...
The first few weeks in Brazil had been a whirlwind of paperwork, security briefings, and adjusting to your new reality. You and Lewis had stayed in the safe house provided by the Brazilian government, venturing out only when necessary and always under heavy guard.
One morning, about a month into your stay, Dr. Santos had arrived with a grim expression.
“We’ve intercepted some concerning communications,” she had said, her usual calm demeanor tinged with worry. “It seems the British royal family has intensified their search for you, Y/N. They’re making threats.”
You had felt your heart drop. “What kind of threats?”
Dr. Santos had hesitated before answering. “They’re threatening to use their diplomatic influence to pressure Brazil into returning you. They’re also ... they’re suggesting that you might be mentally unfit, that you’ve been coerced or manipulated.”
Lewis had immediately pulled you close, his jaw clenched in anger. “They can’t do that. We won’t let them.”
“And we won’t,” Dr. Santos had assured you both. “Our stance on soulmate rights is non-negotiable. But I want you to be prepared. This might get ugly.”
And it had. Over the next few months, your family had tried everything. Diplomatic pressure, media manipulation, even attempts to infiltrate Brazilian government systems to locate you. But Brazil had stood firm, and you had remained safe.
A commotion near the Mercedes garage snaps you back to the present. You see a group of men in dark suits pushing their way through the crowd, their expressions grim and determined. Your blood runs cold as you recognize one of them — your father’s head of security.
“Lewis,” you whisper urgently, “they’re here.”
Lewis’ arm tightens around you as he quickly assesses the situation. “Stay calm. Remember the plan.”
As the men approach, the lead one steps forward, his voice loud and authoritative. “Your Royal Highness, by order of His Majesty the King, you are to return to the United Kingdom immediately.”
You feel all eyes on you, the paddock having gone deathly quiet. Taking a deep breath, you step forward, your voice clear and steady. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I am here of my own free will, protected by Brazilian law as the soulmate of a Brazilian citizen.”
The man’s expression hardens. “Your Highness, please don’t make this difficult. Your family is concerned for your well-being. They believe you may have been coerced or manipulated-”
“The only manipulation here,” Lewis interrupts, his voice sharp, “is coming from those who would separate soulmates for political gain.”
Just then, Dr. Santos appears, flanked by Brazilian officials. “Gentlemen,” she says coolly to the British security team, “I’m afraid you’re overstepping. Y/N is under the protection of the Brazilian government. Any attempt to remove her against her will would be considered means for an international incident.”
The head of security sputters, clearly not having expected this level of resistance. “This is a family matter-”
“No,” you interject, your voice stronger now. “This is a matter of human rights. The right to be with one’s soulmate. A right that Brazil recognizes and protects.”
Dr. Santos nods approvingly. “Furthermore, any claims of mental unfitness have been thoroughly disproven by independent psychiatric evaluation. Y/N is here of her own free will, in full possession of her faculties.”
The security team looks at each other uncertainly, clearly realizing they’re outmatched. The lead man makes one last attempt. “Your Highness, please. Your family misses you. They want you to come home.”
For a moment, you feel a pang of sadness for the life you left behind. But then you feel Lewis’ steady presence beside you, and you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
“I am home,” you say softly but firmly. “My home is with my soulmate, wherever that may be.”
The man opens his mouth to argue further, but Dr. Santos cuts him off. “Gentlemen, I believe it’s time for you to leave. Unless you’d like us to involve the authorities?”
Realizing they’re defeated, the security team begins to retreat. As they leave, you hear murmurs of admiration and support from the crowd that has gathered to watch the confrontation.
Lewis pulls you into a tight embrace. “You were amazing,” he whispers in your ear. “I’m so proud of you.”
As you pull back, you see reporters clamoring for comments, their cameras flashing incessantly. Dr. Santos steps forward to address them.
“A full press conference will be held later today,” she announces. “For now, I can confirm that Y/N, formally known as Her Royal Highness, is here legally and of her own free will as the soulmate of Lewis Hamilton. She is under the full protection of Brazilian law, and any attempts to interfere with their bond will be met with the full force of our legal system.”
As Dr. Santos continues to field questions, Lewis turns to you. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, his eyes searching yours.
You nod, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I’m more than okay. For the first time, I feel ... free.”
Lewis grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because we’ve got a race to win.”
As you make your way to the Mercedes garage, you’re overwhelmed by the support you receive. Team members, other drivers, and even fans call out words of encouragement.
“We’ve got your back, Y/N!”
“Love wins!”
“You show ��em, Lewis!”
Inside the garage, the team greets you warmly. Toto approaches with a smile.
“Y/N, Lewis,” he says, shaking both your hands. “That was quite an entrance. Are you sure you’re up for all this today?”
You nod firmly. “Absolutely. It’s time to show the world that love doesn’t make you weak. It makes you stronger.”
Lewis beams at your words. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, let’s go win this race, yeah?”
As Lewis begins his pre-race preparations, you find a quiet corner to collect your thoughts. The events of the past few months flash through your mind — the fear, the uncertainty, but also the overwhelming love and support you’ve received.
You think about your family, about the life you left behind. There’s sadness there, but no regret. You’ve found something more precious than any crown — the freedom to love, to be yourself, to follow your heart.
A gentle hand on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts. You look up to see Lewis, now in his race suit, his helmet tucked under his arm.
“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks softly.
You smile, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. How grateful I am for you, for Brazil, for everyone who’s supported us.”
Lewis leans into your touch, his eyes shining with emotion. “We’re the lucky ones, Y/N. To have found each other, to have this chance at happiness. And I promise you, I’ll spend every day making sure you never regret your choice.”
You stand, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I could never regret choosing you. You’re my soulmate, my home, my everything.”
As you lean in for a kiss, the garage erupts in cheers and whistles. You break apart, laughing, to see the entire team watching with grins on their faces.
“Alright, lovebirds,” Toto calls out good-naturedly. “Save it for after the race. Lewis, you’ve got a championship to chase.”
Lewis gives you one last quick kiss before pulling on his helmet. “Watch me fly, Princess,” he says with a wink.
As he heads out to the track, you take your place in the garage, surrounded by your new family — the team that has embraced you without question. You feel a sense of belonging, of purpose, that you’ve never experienced before.
The roar of engines fills the air as the race begins. You watch Lewis navigate the track with precision and skill, your heart swelling with pride and love. This is your life now — the excitement of race day, the thrill of competition, but most importantly, the joy of being with your soulmate.
As Lewis crosses the finish line in first place, the garage erupts in celebration. You rush out to meet him in parc fermé, not caring about protocol or propriety. Lewis sweeps you up in his arms, spinning you around as the crowd cheers.
In that moment, with the sun shining down and the sound of celebration all around, you know that you’ve made the right choice. This is where you belong — by Lewis’ side, free to love and be loved, ready to face whatever challenges come your way.
Together.
***
The familiar scent of motor oil and rubber fills the air as you step onto British soil for the first time in over a year. Silverstone buzzes with excitement, but you can’t shake the nervous energy coursing through your veins. Lewis’ hand finds yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“You okay?” He asks softly, his eyes searching yours with concern.
You take a deep breath, nodding. “I think so. It’s just ... strange being back.”
Lewis pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Remember, you’re not alone. We’ve got security everywhere, and I’m right here with you.”
As if on cue, the head of your security team, a tall, no-nonsense woman named Maria, approaches. “Everything’s clear, Ms. Y/N. We’ve swept the entire area and have eyes on all entry points.”
You smile gratefully at her. “Thank you, Maria. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
Maria’s stern expression softens slightly. “Just doing our job, ma’am. Your safety is our top priority.”
As you make your way through the paddock, you can’t help but notice the stares and whispers that follow you. Some are curious, others admiring, and a few ... less than friendly. But your security team forms a protective barrier around you and Lewis, keeping any potential trouble at bay.
“Y/N! Lewis!” A familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Fred Vasseur approaching, a warm smile on his face. “Welcome back to Silverstone. How are you holding up?”
“It’s ... intense,” you admit. “But I’m glad to be here, supporting Lewis.”
Fred nods understandingly. “Well, you’ve got the whole team behind you. Anyone gives you trouble, they’ll have to answer to all of Ferrari.”
As you continue through the paddock, greeting team members and other drivers, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. Not just by the curious onlookers, but by someone ... familiar.
That’s when you see him. Standing near the VIP area, looking as regal and composed as ever, is your brother.
Your heart skips a beat. You haven’t seen Edward since that fateful day you ran away. Lewis, sensing your tension, follows your gaze.
“Is that ...” he asks quietly.
You nod, unable to find words. Lewis turns to Maria. “Can you make sure we have a private moment?”
Maria nods, already signaling to her team. Within moments, they’ve created a small bubble of privacy around you and Edward.
Edward approaches slowly, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you both just stand there, years of unspoken words hanging between you.
Then, to your surprise, Edward’s composure cracks. His eyes fill with tears as he pulls you into a tight embrace.
“Y/N,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you so much.”
You cling to him, your own tears falling freely. “Eddie ... I’m so sorry I left without saying goodbye. I just ... I couldn’t ...”
Edward pulls back, holding you at arm’s length. His eyes roam your face, as if memorizing every detail. “Don’t apologize. Not ever. What you did ... Y/N, I am so incredibly proud of you.”
His words catch you off guard. “Proud? But I abandoned the family, my duties ...”
Edward shakes his head firmly. “You chose love. You chose happiness. You did what I was too weak to do.”
You glance at Lewis, who’s standing a respectful distance away, giving you this moment with your brother. “Edward, this is Lewis. My soulmate.”
Edward extends his hand to Lewis. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lewis. Thank you for protecting my sister and giving her the happiness she deserves.”
Lewis shakes his hand, his expression sincere. “The honor is mine, Your Highness. Y/N is the bravest, most amazing person I know. I’m just lucky to be part of her life.”
Edward’s smile is tinged with sadness. “Please, call me Edward. And you’re right, she is amazing. Always has been.”
You look at your brother closely, noticing the lines of stress around his eyes, the slight slump in his shoulders. “Eddie ... how are you? Really?”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s ... not easy. The family is in turmoil after your departure. Father is furious, Mother is heartbroken, and I’m ... well, I’m trying to hold it all together.”
“And Lily?” You ask softly, referring to Edward’s soulmate. “Have you heard from her?”
Edward’s expression clouds over. “No. Not since ... not since that day.”
You take your brother’s hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s not too late, you know. You could still reach out to her.”
Edward laughs bitterly. “And say what? ‘Sorry I let them burn off my soulmate mark and married someone else. Want to grab coffee?’”
Lewis steps forward, his voice gentle but firm. “With all due respect, Your High- Edward, it’s never too late. The bond between soulmates ... it’s not something that can be erased, no matter what’s done to the physical mark.”
Edward looks at Lewis, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You really believe that?”
Lewis nods. “I do. Y/N and I found each other against all odds. Who’s to say you and Lily can’t do the same?”
You squeeze Edward’s hand again. “Eddie, you deserve to be happy. You deserve love. It’s not too late to choose yourself, to choose love.”
Edward looks torn, glancing around at the crowds, the cameras, the weight of expectation that’s always surrounded you both. “But the family ...”
“Will still be there,” you say softly. “But you’ll be facing them as your true self, with your soulmate by your side. It makes all the difference, trust me.”
Your brother is quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with years of ingrained duty and expectation. Finally, he looks up, a new determination in his eyes.
“You’re right,” he says, his voice growing stronger. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve spent too long living for everyone else. It’s time I lived for myself.”
You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “Does this mean ...”
Edward nods, a mix of fear and excitement in his eyes. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to find Lily. I’m going to make things right.”
You throw your arms around your brother, hugging him tightly. “I’m so proud of you, Eddie. And I’ll be here for you, every step of the way.”
As you pull back, you see tears in Edward’s eyes, but also a lightness that you haven’t seen in years. “Thank you. For showing me that it’s possible to choose love. For being brave enough to pave the way.”
Lewis steps forward, placing a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “If you need any help — legal advice, security, anything — just say the word. You’re family now.”
Edward looks at Lewis gratefully. “Thank you. I might just take you up on that.”
Just then, Maria approaches discreetly. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to move. The press is getting restless.”
You nod, turning back to Edward. “Will you be okay?”
He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “I will be. For the first time in a long time, I think I really will be.”
As you prepare to part ways, Edward pulls you in for one last hug. “I love you, little sister. Thank you for reminding me what’s truly important.”
“I love you too, Eddie,” you whisper back. “Go find your happiness. You deserve it.”
With one last squeeze, Edward steps back. As he walks away, you see him pull out his phone, a look of determination on his face. You have a feeling you know exactly who he’s about to call.
Lewis wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “You okay, love?”
You nod, wiping away a stray tear. “More than okay. I feel ... hopeful. For Eddie, for us, for everything.”
As you make your way back through the paddock, you’re struck by how different everything feels. The stares don’t bother you as much, the whispers fade into background noise. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, with the person you’re meant to be with.
“You know,” Lewis says as you reach the Ferrari garage, “I think I’m going to win this race.”
You raise an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips. “Oh? And what makes you so sure?”
Lewis grins, pulling you close. “Because I’ve got my lucky charm by my side. How can I lose?”
You laugh, the sound light and free. “Well, in that case, you’d better not disappoint. I expect nothing less than a victory, Sir Hamilton.”
As Lewis leans in for a kiss, you’re vaguely aware of cameras flashing and people cheering. But none of that matters. What matters is this moment, this love, this life you’ve chosen.
You think back to a year ago, when you were terrified of finding your soulmate, of the consequences it would bring. Now, standing here at Silverstone, with Lewis by your side and the hope of your brother finding his own happiness, you realize that choosing love wasn’t just the brave choice.
It was the only choice.
As Lewis heads off to prepare for the race, you take your place in the garage. The roar of engines fills the air, and you feel a surge of excitement.
This is your life now. Supporting Lewis, championing love, and showing the world that sometimes, the greatest act of duty is being true to yourself.
As the race begins, you watch Lewis tear around the track, your heart swelling with pride and love. You may not wear a tiara anymore, but you’ve gained something far more precious — the freedom to love, to choose, to be yourself.
And as the chequered flag waves and Lewis crosses the finish line in first place, you know that this victory isn’t just his.
It’s yours. It’s Edward’s. It’s everyone who’s ever had the courage to choose love over duty, happiness over expectation.
As you rush to congratulate Lewis, wrapped in his arms as the crowd cheers, you know that this is just the beginning. There will be challenges ahead, obstacles to overcome. But with love by your side and the strength to be true to yourself, you’re ready to face whatever comes.
Because in the end, love always wins. And you? You’re living proof of that.
***
The warm Brazilian sun streams through the windows of the spacious beachfront home, filling the living room with a golden glow. The sound of children’s laughter mingles with the distant crash of waves, creating a symphony of domestic bliss.
You’re seated on the plush carpet, surrounded by an array of colorful toys. Your three-year-old daughter, Emilia, is busily stacking blocks, her little face scrunched in concentration. Across from you, Edward is attempting to wrangle his own two-year-old son, James, who seems more interested in knocking down Emilia’s creations than building his own.
“James, darling, let’s build our own tower, shall we?” Edward coaxes gently, redirecting his son’s attention.
You can’t help but smile at the scene. Five years ago, you never could have imagined this — you and Edward, raising your children together, free from the constraints of royal duty.
The sound of a door opening draws your attention. Lewis walks in, his arms full of grocery bags, closely followed by Lily.
“We come bearing snacks!” Lewis announces with a grin.
Emilia’s head snaps up at the sight of her favorite person. “Daddy!” She squeals, abandoning her blocks and running to Lewis.
Lewis sets down the bags just in time to scoop up his daughter, peppering her face with kisses. “Hello, my little racer. Have you been good for Mummy?”
Emilia nods enthusiastically. “I builded a big tower!”
“Built, sweetheart,” you correct gently, getting to your feet. “And it was a very impressive tower indeed.”
Lewis sets Emilia down and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “And how’s my other favorite girl doing?”
You smile, leaning into his embrace. “Better now that you’re home. How was the market?”
“Busy,” Lily chimes in, setting down her own bags. “But we managed to get everything on the list, plus a few extras.”
Edward stands, hoisting James onto his hip. “Extras, you say? Let me guess — more of those brigadeiros that you’re definitely not addicted to, right, love?”
Lily’s cheeks flush slightly as she laughs. “I plead the fifth. This baby wants what it wants.”
Your eyes light up at the reminder. Lily is five months pregnant with their second child, and you’re all buzzing with excitement.
“Speaking of the baby,” you say, moving to help unpack the groceries, “have you two decided if you’re going to find out the gender?”
Edward and Lily exchange a look. “We’re still debating,” Edward admits. “Part of me wants to know, but there’s also something nice about the surprise.”
Lewis chuckles, joining you in the kitchen. “I remember that debate. Though if I recall correctly, someone couldn’t handle the suspense and made me call the doctor at two in the morning to find out.”
You playfully swat his arm. “Hey, you were just as curious as I was!”
As you all work together to put away the groceries and prepare snacks for the kids, you’re struck by how natural this all feels. The easy banter, the shared responsibilities, the love that permeates every interaction. It’s a far cry from the rigid formality of your royal upbringing.
“You know,” Edward says, as if reading your thoughts, “sometimes I still can’t believe this is our life now.”
You nod, understanding completely. “I know what you mean. It’s so different from what we always thought our futures would be.”
Lily comes up behind Edward, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Different, but better, right?”
Edward turns, pulling her close. “Infinitely better. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
As you watch your brother with his soulmate, you feel a wave of happiness and gratitude wash over you. It hadn’t been easy for Edward to follow in your footsteps, to give up his place in the line of succession and choose love over duty. But seeing him now, so relaxed and genuinely happy, you know it was worth every struggle.
“Earth to Y/N,” Lewis’ voice breaks through your reverie. “Where’d you go just now?”
You smile, shaking your head. “Just thinking about how far we’ve all come. How different things could have been.”
Lewis nods, understanding in his eyes. “Do you ever regret it? Giving up your title, your life in England?”
You don’t hesitate for a second. “Never. This life, with you, with our family — it’s more than I ever dreamed possible.”
A sudden crash from the living room interrupts the moment. You all rush in to find James standing triumphantly atop a mountain of scattered blocks, while Emilia looks on in horror.
“James Edward Henry Albert Windsor!” Lily exclaims, trying to sound stern but failing to hide her amusement. “What have we said about destroying other people’s creations?”
James, looking not at all repentant, grins widely. “I king of the castle!”
Edward struggles to keep a straight face as he lifts his son off the block mountain. “Yes, well, kings should be builders, not destroyers. Let’s clean this up and then we can all build a castle together, okay?”
As you all pitch in to help clean up the blocks, Emilia tugs on your sleeve. “Mummy, will James be a real king someday?”
The question catches you off guard. You exchange a look with Edward, unsure how to explain the complicated reality of your family’s situation.
Lewis kneels down next to Emilia, his voice gentle. “No, sweetheart. James won’t be a king and you won’t be a princess. But that’s okay, because you get to be something even better.”
Emilia’s eyes widen with curiosity. “What’s that, Daddy?”
Lewis smiles, pulling her into a hug. “You get to be yourself. You get to choose who you want to be and what you want to do with your life. And that’s much more special.”
You feel tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the simple beauty of Lewis’ words. This is why you left, why you chose this life. So that your children could have the freedom you and Edward never had growing up.
As the afternoon wears on, you all migrate to the back patio. The kids play in the sand under the watchful eyes of their parents, while you, Lewis, Edward, and Lily relax on the comfortable outdoor furniture.
“So,” Lily says, her hand resting on her growing belly, “have you two given any thought to expanding your own family?”
You and Lewis share a knowing look. “Actually,” you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice, “we’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”
Edward raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Do tell, little sister.”
Lewis takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. “We’re thinking of adopting. There are so many children out there who need loving homes, and we have more than enough love to give.”
“That’s wonderful!” Lily exclaims, her eyes shining. “Oh, Emilia would love a little brother or sister.”
You nod, watching your daughter play. “We think so too. We’re just starting the process, but it feels right.”
Edward leans forward, his expression serious. “Have you thought about how this might affect things back in England? The press ...”
You sigh, having expected this question. “We have. And honestly, we’ve decided that it doesn’t matter what they think. This is our life, our family. We’re not going to let fear of judgment or outdated institutions dictate our choices anymore.”
Lewis nods in agreement. “We’ve already faced the worst they could throw at us. We came out stronger. Whatever comes next, we can handle it together.”
Edward’s serious expression melts into a proud smile. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry, old habits die hard I suppose. I’m thrilled for you both, truly.”
As the conversation flows, touching on everything from potential names for Lily and Edward’s baby to Lewis’ upcoming ambassador campaign, you’re struck by how perfectly imperfect this life is. It’s messy and chaotic at times, full of unexpected challenges and joy in equal measure. But it’s real, and it’s yours.
The sun begins to set, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink. James and Emilia, tired from their day of play, curl up in their fathers’ laps. As you watch your brother gently stroke his son’s hair, you remember a conversation from years ago.
“Eddie,” you say softly, “do you remember what you told me the day they ... the day they burned off your soulmate mark?”
Edward looks up, his eyes clouding with the memory. “I told you that if you ever found your soulmate, you should run. Run far away and don’t look back.”
You nod, feeling Lewis’ arm tighten around you. “I’m so glad I took your advice. And I’m even more glad that you eventually followed it too.”
Edward smiles, looking down at James and then over at Lily. “So am I, Y/N. So am I.”
As the evening draws in, you all move inside. The kids are put to bed, their excited chatter about building sandcastles and racing cars fading into peaceful sleep. You, Lewis, Edward, and Lily settle in the living room, glasses of wine in hand (sparkling juice for Lily).
“A toast,” Lewis proposes, raising his glass. “To family, to love, and to the courage to choose our own path.”
“To freedom,” Edward adds, his eyes shining with emotion.
“To second chances,” Lily chimes in, her hand resting on her belly.
You raise your own glass, feeling a swell of emotion. “To us. All of us. And to the beautiful, chaotic, perfectly imperfect life we’ve built together.”
As you clink glasses, you catch Lewis’ eye. In that moment, you’re transported back to that day at Silverstone, when you first ran into each other. The fear, the excitement, the life-changing decision you made in an instant.
You wouldn’t change a thing.
As the night wears on and conversation flows freely, you realize that this — this warmth, this love, this freedom — this is what happily ever after really looks like. It’s not a fairy tale ending, but a beginning. A beginning of a life filled with love, choice, and the joy of being truly yourself.
And as you curl up in bed that night, Lewis’ arms around you and the sound of the ocean in the distance, you know that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
Your family’s story is still being written. And you can’t wait to see what the next chapter brings.
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entitled-fangirl · 1 month ago
Text
Apologies.
Jason Todd x deaf!reader
Summary: Dick says something too far to the reader, prompting Jason to kick his ass.
A/n: cursing, blood, teasing about being deaf
Masterlist
...............................................
"I'm not kidding, baby. Move."
Y/n stood between Jason and Dick, her hands out in a pleading motion against Jason's chest.
It started out innocent. Dick and Y/n had always gotten along. The two truly clicked like siblings. But like everything else, the teasing became too much.
He kept his eyes on the tear stains on her red cheeks- his motivation to beat Dick's ass.
She was always so lighthearted about the ordeal: having hearing aids. They were obvious on her head but after a while, they blended in. And Jason still had moments when he forgot they were needed. Mostly when waking in the morning next to her, accidentally frightening her when his arm snaked around her half asleep body.
But this was the line.
Dick had said a joke that was just a step too far. Jason watched something snap inside her, a wall finally caving in. Her eyes dulled and she excused herself.
That was twenty minutes ago. And now…
"I swear, I didn't mean anything by it," Dick pleaded from the other side of her.
Jason's jaw set harshly. "That's not a good enough reason for me, Dickybird." He stepped a bit further against Y/n to menacingly glare at Dick.
"Hey, hey," he pleaded.
"No. No." Jason knew she had left her hearing aids in the bathroom down the hall, so he held a large hand over her eyes to keep her from reading his lips. In a different scenario, that would be more amusing than it was now. "I'll fucking gut you."
"Tim, please tell him," Dick begged. "Help me out here."
Tim leaned over the side of the couch and craned his neck to see them. He watched for a moment, taking in each person. "Nah."
Y/n's hands patted Jason's chest to bring his attention back to her. Her voice came out in a slow, breathy whisper. "S-Stop." 
The brick wall that was Jason Todd paused. His hand rested on her cheek. His thumb brushed away the watery pathways the tears had left behind. He wanted to beat the shit out of Dick. He really did. But he'd do anything to cease the hurt look in her eyes. He reluctantly nodded.
Her eyes filled with relief. She leaned against his chest completely. 
He sighed and grabbed her hand that rested on his chest. He brought it up to his lips, kissing the palm softly.
A few hours later, Dick stood in front of Y/n, who was just trying to watch TV in the living room. Her body instinctively leaned over to try to see more of the TV but she soon realized he meant to talk to her. She opened her phone and disconnected her hearing aids from the TV to give Dick her full attention.
Dick stood with a defeat in his shoulders, a guilty look in his eyes, and a small ring of red around the inside of his left nostril. And now that she was really looking at it, there was a pink path soaked into his skin under that nostril as well. Like a past nosebleed.
"I know an apology does nothing but I can still try." He awkwardly rubbed his bicep. "I took my words too far. You're different from teasing Jason or Tim or Steph or…" his voice trailed off. "I just mean that I overstepped. You're like a sister to me but I still need to respect the fact that you're not. What I said was hurtful. Please forgive me."
He sounded so sincere. Like a hurt puppy. It would be hard to not forgive him when he's like this. 
"Course, Dick. I know you meant it as a joke. You'd never mean to hurt m-"
"-oh thank god," he collapses in front of her in pure relief. "Okay, I gotta thank you. I really do. I think he would've really killed me otherwise."
Brothers were so strange. "He wouldn't go that far."
"He'd go pretty far, Y/n. You make him nice."
She smiled. "No, I don't. He's just nice when he wants to be."
Dick's eyes almost fell out of his head his eyes became so wide. "Jason was NEVER nice. Not even before. You make him gentle."
"There you are," Jason mused as he entered his bedroom in the manor. 
She was lying on his old bed, a book in her hands. She was entirely engrossed in it. Only then did Jason realize her hearing aids were off. 
"Baby?" He cautiously stepped to her and pressed a hand on her shin. 
She jumped, almost throwing the book. Upon seeing him, she relaxed with a mockingly annoyed expression. 
Jason smiled and mouthed 'sorry' before grabbing her hearing aids off the nightstand. He tilted her head to the side. His fingers gently placed one on her before leaning in and kissing her cheek. "Dinner's in ten," he spoke softly against her skin.
She smiled and gave him a small peck to his lips. 
He was so glad her mood had shifted. As his hand placed the other on her, he asked. "How long have you been in here?"
She hummed. "Hour or so."
"Thought you wanted to watch TV," he pointed out. "You were on the couch when I left ya and now here you are." He was fishing for something.
She sat up a little more. "I had an odd conversation with Dick."
His brows shot up amusingly high. "Oh?" He asked. "And what did he say that was so odd?"
"He apologized."
"Hm. Good for him. Glad he came to his senses."
Leaning into him, she continued to feed him everything he wanted to hear. "It was rather sweet."
He nuzzled his nose into her hair, muffling his voice. "Just glad you feel better about it."
She let out a breathy chuckle, grabbing his hand and running her fingers over his knuckles. "Does it hurt?"
His shoulders tensed slightly. "'S what hurt, baby?"
"Your raw knuckles. From punching Dick in the nose."
He smiled widely at getting caught. It was all amusing to him now that things had passed. "Don't know what you're talking about."
"Right," she huffed. 
"Dinner's soon. C'mon," he tutted, pulling her up from the bed.
At dinner, things continued as if nothing had happened. The tension was gone from everywhere but Jason's shoulders.
Y/n had remarked something quick-witted against Dick, prompting him to huff out, "C'mon! Listen to yourself!"
The entire table went from all laughs to dead silent, watching as if their favorite soap opera had just come on.
Jason's gaze hardened, his head tilting.
"Woah," Dick realized. "That wasn't even- That was just something I always say! Jason? No, Jason!"
Jason reached around Y/n's head, pulling her hearing aids off and keeping them safely in his hand. He stood over the table and pointed a finger at Dick, yelling god-knows-what at him.
Y/n looked to Cass for an interpretation, but even she shook her head with wide eyes.
She'd be expecting another apology from Dick later.
.............................................
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kiame-sama · 5 months ago
Text
Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 5
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(It took me way too long and saving every 5 min, but I got my laptop to run my drawing software long enough to get Leona drawn! Not overly thrilled with the pose and his legs gave me way too much trouble, but at least that is one more down!)
Warnings; Monster AU, yandere, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, stalking, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, Romantic Yanderes, Platonic Yanderes, adult themes present, communal grooming behavior seen in most of my AU species, nesting behavior, social disconnect, attempted bullying, cooking breakfast, untrusting yet soft hearted reader, Cater unintentionally causes problems, Vampire Bats, Gnolls, Satyrs, Fauns, Kelpies, Water Nymphs, mention of Unicorns, Sphinx,
~~~~~~~~
"What... the actual hell are you doing?"
Lilia paused for just a moment, regarding you with wide and curious eyes that almost tricked you into thinking he was harmless. Almost. He took a moment with his pink tongue sticking out slightly as he blinked one eye after the other.
You were finally able to wind down for the night after what had been a long ordeal and a frightening several hours. Lilia spent the short span of time by your side, only giving you space when you bathed and even then he waited outside your door. He had proved to be a wise choice of protector given how many already tried their luck. Trein's idea had been a good one as the odd Bat already had to chase off several curious students, most just seeking to get a sniff or glance in your direction. In some ways you understood that you were an anomaly in their world and that made others curious, but at the same time you felt it was overboard for so many to be so keen to approach you.
Now you sat in the monstrously sized nest- courtesy of the Dragon that fixed up most of your current abode- with your errant guardian for the evening. Grim was curled up and fast asleep on one of the many pillows that littered the valleys and hills of blankets within the nest. You were just starting to doze off as well when you felt a warm and wet muscle trail over your skin. Naturally, you wanted to know just what on earth the strange Bat was doing and judging from the way he looked, he had actually just licked your cheek.
"Grooming you?"
"Why?"
"To help you sleep. Usually a quick bit of grooming makes Malleus and Sebek drift right off with no problem, Silver never needs much help in regards to sleep. Do Humans not groom one another?"
"... Not really. I mean, I guess they can but I don't think I've had someone literally lick me in order to clean me up."
"That wasn't a lick, that was grooming."
"You literally just licked my face."
"But I'm just grooming you?"
You stared at Lilia for a long moment, thinking back to the regular bats of your own world. Bats did often groom one another as a communal pastime, so it could be very possible he was simply doing the same for you. Though you figured these Human-like monsters would behave like Humans, there was still a high possibility that what was socially acceptable to these creatures was far beyond the realm of accepted for Humans. On top of the social disconnect you also realized that though Lilia had spoken of Humans before, he didn't really get all the aspects of Humanity or what you found acceptable.
Lilia seemed genuinely confused and hesitant. There was a strong part of him that still wanted to continue his nightly habits of lulling his nest companions to sleep before trying to rest himself. Still, he was not going to continue his semi-self-soothing communal grooming if you were angry with him over it. Not even getting his scent on you was worth making you genuinely displeased with him.
"Do you not want me to groom you?"
"... Does it help you sleep?"
"What?"
"You said it helps others sleep when you groom them, does it help you sleep too?"
"To groom or be groomed?"
"Both."
The Bat took a long moment to think as if he were honestly considering his own feelings on the matter. He didn't have to think about it for very long before he was nodding to your question.
"Yes. Both help me sleep. I am naturally nocturnal, so becoming diurnal for classes has been difficult on me. Getting my nestmates to sleep first usually helps me sleep. I wouldn't mind a bit of grooming for myself, but usually I'm the one putting others to sleep."
"... If it helps you sleep, then okay. Just... Don't get too excited, okay?"
"... Do you find grooming exciting?"
"No. Going to sleep now."
Lilia laughed softly at your curt response as you tried to close your eyes and drift off. It wasn't long into your attempt that the relaxed and wet strokes picked back up across your cheek. Perhaps he lied to you and only said it was normal. Perhaps it truly was normal for these monster men to participate in communal grooming.
You certainly didn't know and you weren't going to be awake long enough for it to matter. Maybe the Bat was right in that it helped soothe others to sleep as you were unconscious within a few moments of him starting back up.
~~~~~~~~
You woke to Grim batting at your nose with his paws. His bright blue eyes shining at you in the small light of the morning. The sun was not even above the horizon at that point and you vaguely wondered what it was the little feline-beast wanted.
"I'm hungry."
His voice was soft and a quick glance over your shoulder told you he was trying to avoid waking Lilia. The Bat was wrapped in his own wings and snuggled beneath a blanket, face completely smooth in deep rest. You similarly wanted to avoid waking your guard- both for time to yourself and because he seemed so peaceful- so you slipped out of the nest with Grim.
The halls were quiet as you made your way to the main level of the building, hoping the kitchen would be located there. Luck seemed to be on your side and you were thrilled to see both the kitchen and the food available to you. Apparently they were quite keen to keep you content and that meant giving you enough food as well.
The kitchen itself was more of an industrial type kitchen, a large sink for dishes, several ovens, large stovetop, multiple cabinets and one large fridge. Most of the pots and pans were present but seemed to have been unused for quite some time. Though the outside got fixed up, the kitchen recieved far less love. Still, you found the pans needed to get an idea of what you wanted to make. There were a handful of spices in old containers but it was slim pickings.
Despite the odd lacking of premade sauces and other such items, you knew enough to throw together a decent breakfast. It was early in the cooking process when Grim let out a sudden yowl and hiss towards the far side of the kitchen behind you. A door that led outside rattled open and you turned to see a frightening creature.
It looked like a Hyena that had been stretched and deformed into a Human shape, walking on hind legs that resembled that of a canine. The beast had shaggy fur that was a sandy blond color, darker browns spotting the pelt and highlighting the ridge of the Hyena's back. One of the most stunning and unsettling features of the creature was the bright blue eyes that looked far too Human.
As the creature's mouth opened a voice you didn't expect came from it. A light tenor that almost seemed to be accompanied by the cackle of a Hyena at the end of their sentences.
"Lookie here! Seems I found the new Human! Campus is abuzz about you crashing orientation yesterday and Leona wouldn't stop mentioning you."
You didn't know if the Hyena man was one you could trust or not and his oddly jerking motions unsettled you.
"But forget all that for now. What's that you're making? You wouldn't mind sharing some with your fellow student," a long tongue licked over his chops, "would you?"
"What were you doing out here so early?"
"Don't go being so suspicious of me, I'm a stand-up guy, shishishi. I was out gathering up some dandelions for my breakfast."
"... Dandelions?"
"What? Food's expensive here. Besides, guess I can call myself lucky coming across you like this."
The way the beast said this unsettled you and you felt more than a little cornered. Grim was quick to get between the two of you even though he was clearly untrusting of the Hyena as well.
"And what's that supposed ta mean?"
"Just saying whatever you're cooking smells good! It wouldn't be too much to add some more for me to have, right? You got all this food here, you may as well share it. Sides, Leona made it clear to all of Savanaclaw that we aren't supposed to put a single paw or claw on you."
You were partially tempted to call out for Lilia to get this monster away when you heard a heart-breaking sound. A long whining grumble came from the Hyena's stomach and he almost seemed to wince in response to the noise. It was the Hyena's stomach loudly rumbling for some food. After a moment of staring at the beast you noticed a bag at his side, leaves and bright yellow flowers sticking out of it and it was stuffed with more of the plants. Hyenas wouldn't eat just plants unless they had no other choice.
With a sigh you added more food to your pan, noticing the way the short tail of the Hyena man wagged excitedly. Grim crossed his short arms and continued to watch the newcomer with untrusting eyes, refusing to move from in between the two of you.
It was when your breakfast was almost done cooking that the Hyena suddenly changed in behavior. His ears flattened and his head bowed low, tail quickly tucking between his legs as he stared at the inside entrance to the kitchen. You glanced over to see the bright pink eyes of Lilia staring from the doorway with an almost threatening grin towards your uninvited guest. The momentary quiet made you quickly step in Lilia's path, trying to defend the odd Hyena from the Bat that was tasked with your safety.
"Wait, he was just hungry and he could smell my cooking."
"(Y/n), you have already been warned about those from Savanaclaw. Most of them were of the species that ate Humans. Gnolls like Ruggie over there were especially vicious to Humans."
"But he hasn't tried any of that today. I get that not everyone is safe, but he hasn't even tried to attack me. He just wants some breakfast. Lilia, please."
The Bat frowned slightly and gave a final glare at the blond furred beast- Ruggie the Gnoll, according to Lilia- before he relented to your pleas. Despite no longer threatening the Hyena, he made a clear show of moving himself to sit on a counter that allowed him to somewhat be inbetween you and Ruggie. It seemed Grim and Lilia both had the same idea in mind as they continued to stare the outsider down.
They only willingly broke eye contact with the hunched beast as you served four separate plates. Apparently even Lilia was keenly interested in your cooking and you could see the way the three set aside their distrust and happily dug in as you passed out the servings. Ruggie didn't even bother with cutlery as he gulped down the meal like a famished animal that hadn't eaten for days, lazily licking the plate when he was finished. Grim was similar and just shoveled food into his mouth with his little paws, his pronged tail waving excitedly. Lilia took the time to grab a fork, occasionally sending a mistrustful glare towards the Gnoll as he ate.
You felt comfortable enough to dig in as well, content that you managed to somewhat avoid conflict. It was becoming oddly normal to see the unusual beast men that lived in abundance around you, and you felt somewhat gratified to feed the clearly hungry Ruggie. The clear dandelions in his pouch told you that he didn't lie to you about gathering them up and you knew they were edible plants that even Humans could eat.
"Wow, Hooman, is this what you eat all the time?"
"It's a little bland actually, I was hoping there would be more spices and herbs in the cabinets, but there isn't even half as much as I was expecting. Some jellies and jams, but no bullion, no parsley, nothing like that."
It was then Lilia spoke up, talking in between bites as he was still working on his portion.
"Humans were the main cooks and culinary types before they died out. Most of us 'monster-men' as you call us don't need to cook our foods first and eating things raw is fairly normal. It is a treat to actually have a cooked meal in a lot of places, though some places Like the Queendom of Roses have grandfathered in pastries and other confections because of how much the Queendom loved Human cooking. Lots of us don't bother cooking because we don't have to, but I guarantee a cooked meal like this would bring a good portion of others to their knees."
You made a quick mental note of Lilia's comment and figured you could try using your cooking to sway others in your favor. Ruggie certainly seemed pleased as he made an attempt to swipe what remained of Lilia's food, earning him a quick swat from the Bat's wing. Maybe those from Savanaclaw weren't that bad, if Ruggie was anything to go off of.
~~~~~~~~
The bell rang as you tried to get to your first class, upset with yourself that you turned down Lilia's offer to show you to your classes for the day. Grim was no help since he was just as lost as you but he did seem to be enough to discourage most students from getting too close. No one really tried to talk to you and all just seemed curious in your scent or reaching out as if to touch you. A quick flame from Grim was enough to dissuade them so far but the ever curious eyes continued to follow you.
When you finally reached the door to what seemed to be the right class, a figure stepped in your way and blocked you. Standing between you and the door was a Goat man with orange hair and twisting horns atop his head. On his left eye was a red heart.
"So you're the Human everyone is losing their minds over. Don't look like much to me. You don't even have magic to defend yourself if I decided to hurt you right now."
He laughed a sinister sound as he grinned hatefully at you. Grim was clearly trying to make himself seem bigger than he was, even spreading his tattered wings out to somewhat shield you despite how little they covered. The blue fire that always seemed to burn on Grim's ears burned brighter as the grey cat-beast prepared himself to fight this goat man who seemed keen to stop you from entering the classroom.
"Ace, Housewarden Riddle told us to leave the Human alone."
It was then another Goat man approached from behind the first, looking distinctly different from the orange-haired short-horned Goat that tried to block you. This second one had large Ram horns that spiraled from the top of his head down to the sides of his chin, his dark blue hair complementing his bright blue eyes. Over his right eye was the card suit of spades. His lower half was the same as the first and seemed to be goat legs with a tail flicking behind him. You could just barely see the little white spots along the top of his tail as he pushed the first Goat forward with a glare on his face.
"And who the hell are you to enforce that rule, Deuce? You're just a first-year like me."
"And we were told to not heckle the Human."
"Don't tell me you think this Human is worth being upset over?"
"I didn't say that. I'm saying you need to leave her alone."
"Why don't you make me?"
Both seemed to be ready to have a go at one another, heads slightly tilted forward so their horns were pointed at the other. It almost looked like they were going to headbutt each other until one of them relented. It was during this argument that another voice cut in, making both Goats straighten up quickly.
"Why aren't you freshmen in class already?"
The voice belonged to what looked like a centaur man with green hair, his lower half was that of a white stallion. He wore thick black rimmed glasses and had the card suit of clubs beneath his left eye. His eyes were a golden brown that seemed almost yellow when compared to his unusual green hair.
As he trotted over the two Goats quickly seemed to break up their fight, refusing to look the man in the eye even as he looked down at the four of you with his arms crossed. The man seemed to get a good look at your little group before his gaze came to a halt on you, quickly looking you up and down in surprise. He seemed to recognize you rather quickly as he uncrossed his arms, that small displeased frown disappearing from his face.
"Oh, you're the- right. Riddle did say you would be attending classes. Doesn't make much sense to me to throw you into classes with this lot, but I guess it does make it easier for the professors to keep an eye on you."
His smile dropped ever so slightly into a glare as he looked over at the two Goats. That glare then seemed to change into a wicked grin as if he just got an idea.
"How helpful of the two of you to volunteer to show the Human to her classes today."
"Wha- I didn't volunteer for that-!"
"If you don't want to sleep outside with one of Riddle's collars on, I would suggest you both step up and stop fighting."
"Of course out of every upperclassmen we run into, it has to be Trey..."
"So good of you two first-year boys to step up like this. I will be checking in at lunch and if there is a single scratch anywhere on her I'm having Riddle collar the both of you."
The one with orange hair- Ace- stomped his hoof in anger at the much larger male, seeming aghast that he was given an assignment. Deuce seemed less displeased but had a clear frown on his face. Grim was already on board with staying by you given the fact you were his ticket to a comfortable bed and good food.
"If you're so worried, do it yourself!"
"I could tell both Riddle and Professor Trein right now that you two knuckleheads were trying to stop her from getting to class and trying to bully her. I'm sure that would look great on your school records, and you'll certainly have fun not being able to use any magic with Riddle's collars on."
This seemed to unnerve Ace more than the prior threat had as his eyes widened and he took a quick step back. Both Goats had to weigh the potential risks and rewards of the situation but quickly came to the conclusion that it was best to do what the Horse man told them to. You didn't know anything about this supposed collaring business, but you did recognize the name Riddle as the Unicorn that had yelled at Grim the night before.
"Hey, hey, why is everyone standing out here? Thought classes already started, so is everyone just late?"
Another new voice interrupted and Grim's ears flicked in clear frustration at all of the new faces that seemed so keen to heckle the two of you. He was quick to turn to you now that the threat was gone and use his little claws to climb up the leg of your pants and into your arms. For such a sassy little creature, Grim certainly was keen to have you carry him around when there wasn't any threat of danger.
Approaching the now growing group of students standing outside of the classroom was a red-haired man with bright green eyes. He almost seemed to saunter over to the group as he held up his phone, the sound of a camera coming from it multiple times before before he came to a halt.
"Hold on, just need to post this to Magicam and add the right tags... #froshes #latebuddies #skipday... And post!"
"Wait, Cater, don't- please tell me you didn't post a picture of us just now."
"Of course I did! Gotta keep my followers up to date on the haps at school."
"At least tell me you blurred the Human out of the photo?"
"Oh, she's here? Wait, don't tell me," the man now known as Cater was quick to get uncomfortably close to you, making Grim's ears flatten back on his head, "you're the new Human on campus! Gotta absolutely get a selfie with you and post it for Magicam, none of my non-NRC followers believe that a Human crashed our orientation! Pics so I can prove it happened! Smile!"
You tried to pull away from the overly enthusiastic man as he held up his phone and snapped two pictures before you managed to wriggle away from his grasp. He didn't seem to be put off by your behavior at all as he quickly tapped away at his phone with a smile. Trey, however, slapped the phone out of Cater's hands quickly.
"Are you crazy, Cater?"
"Woah, Trey? What's the big deal? You're usually never this riled up."
"Tell me you didn't post that selfie already."
"Just pressed post when you hit my phone outta my hands. Not cool, Trey. Totes being so unkind to Cay-cay."
"Cater!"
"What?"
"Why would you post a picture of an extinct species to the internet? Riddle told us to try and keep others from taking pictures of her and you just go right ahead and post it?"
"What's the big deal? It's not like it's illegal or something."
Trey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking several deep breaths to try and calm himself. You were able to tell why Trey was mad but it seemed like Ace, Deuce, and Cater had no idea what the big deal was when he just took a picture with you. Meanwhile you were wondering if you should tell a Professor what happened and hope the older magic users could do more to help you than the students.
"Seems you all have plenty of time to talk instead of get to your classes, so how about a few extra assignments for you lot?"
The interrupting voice was a thankfully familiar one to you as you saw the limping gait of a familiar flying-cat man approaching. His steeley eyes were narrowed in annoyance as he drew closer, in his arms lay a black and white cat that seemed more than content to be carried around. You were surprised to see a normal cat in this strange world of monsters, but you figured there had to be some normal animals if these guys found eating one another as appalling as eating Humans seemed to be.
"Professor Trein."
You greeted the man quickly and the scowl disappeared from his face as he realized you were the one talking to him.
"Ah, (Y/n), I saw you would be in my class this morning. Are these students showing you around? I thought Lilia was your chosen guide."
"I told Lilia I didn't need help finding my classes, but I was wrong."
"Hm, then hopefully these boys have been aiding you thus far? You are at my classroom after all."
"Well, about that..."
"What happened?"
Trey interrupted the conversation then, seeming less upset and more exasperated than anything. Ace had been trying to sneak away, but the Horse man caught the back of his shirt and kept him from running off. He didn't even need to look at Ace to grab him and instead kept his attention on Trein.
"Cater posted a picture of (Y/n) to Magicam."
"... He what?"
Cater picked up his phone, pouting at the crack in the screen and whining loudly about it. He turned the phone to Trey as if to show the damage but Professor Trein snatched it from his hands, frustratedly tapping the dark screen as his cat climbed up to his shoulders to free up his hands. He didn't seem to get very far before turning it back to Cater in frustration.
"Unlock your phone, Mr. Diamond."
"What's the big deal? I just wanted to show off the Human."
"That is the 'big deal'! Why would you post a picture of an extinct species for anyone to see?"
"It's not like people are gonna show up just to see a Human-"
"Cater, I am now assigning you an essay due by tomorrow on the history of Humans since you clearly haven't paid attention to your course work from last year. You will also be deleting that picture and any others you make have taken of (Y/n)."
Another noise of complaint left the redhead as if he were about to start complaining but Trein silenced him with a glare.
"Fine, fine. Not like anyone is gonna do anything because of it- no way! This is the most likes any of my pics have gotten right after posting! That was no time at all-"
"Delete it!"
"I can delete the photos from my account, but its already been downloaded at least fifty times. Deleting it now won't do much-"
"Enough. Cater, to the Headmage's office, now. The rest of you get to your classes. I will be in to teach shortly, but first I need to notify the Headmage about this."
Trey herded you and the other two students into the room, closing the door behind you rather loudly. You could still hear Trein scolding Cater from behind the door and you all quickly took your seats. To your surprise, the only open seat was between the two Goats and they didn't seem all too upset by this fact. Though they seemed angry at being volunteered to be your guides, they weren't about to complain about it now with an angry professor right outside of the classroom.
You had no idea what Magicam was, but from the sounds of it, it must have been some kind of photo sharing application like Instagram from your world. If that was the case, the rest of this messed up world was about to realize that there was a Human sheltering at Night Raven College, and you were terrified at the idea of what that would mean for you.
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princessbrunette · 6 months ago
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bbf!jj was at your beck and call. reluctantly.
you were lucky he didn’t have any plans on this particular saturday night — infact for once he wasn’t even with your brother when he got the call, lounging on his own couch with a bag of chips and a controller on his lap when he presses the phone to his ear to see what you wanted.
“yeeeeello?” he greets, picking out residue chip from his teeth.
“jj! yay you picked up— okay so, this guy was supposed to drive me home from this party but he ended up getting wasted and now i’ve got no ride home… please come n’get me? please please — n’don’t tell my brother he gets all annoying and judgy—”
the mention of another guy pricked jj’s attention, his brow raising.
“uhhhhh, kinda like… preoccupied right now…” he makes no effort to move, staring ahead at the pause screen on his game before pressing his lips together, the image of you stood alone outside a party all lost and frightened filling his mind like a cloud of poor judgment before he sighs. “yeah i’ll come getcha. text me the addy, okay?”
jj rolls up twenty five minutes later, looking absolutely delectable to your slightly wine-tipsy self and you can’t help the big grin that spreads across your face when he hops out his side of the car to open your door.
“a gentleman.” you tease with a giggle and he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck before stumbling back over to his own side.
“yeah, sum’n like that.”
the streets are oddly empty for a saturday night as jj cruises along, glancing at you as you stare happily at his profile. “you uh, good over there, trouble?”
“mhm… thanks for coming to get me jj…” he feels almost preyed on, seeing you bat your lashes through his peripherals. this only ever ended one way with you, and it filled him with guilt for his closest confidant. god, he was really gonna bone his best friends little sister again— wasn’t he?
“‘mean i always do. s’like our thing at this point… y’know when you hit my phone i know it’s gonna be one of two things. you need’a ride, or… you need’a ride… y’know like, on me.”
“sometimes both…” you are unmoved by his slight accusatory tone, perhaps you don’t even notice it due to your own lust and slight intoxication.
“w—yup. sometimes both.” he glances at you. “is that… what’s goin’ on tonight? or…”
that’s how you end up cramped in the backseat with your knees practically pinned at your tits and jj’s head between your thighs, ravenously devouring you off some empty side street. he was a little pissed. how he’d ended up like this, not even getting anything for himself was beyond him. his love for eating pussy betrayed him, but he couldn’t really complain listening to your pretty moans as he suckles on your clit and curls his fingers up inside— hurrying you towards a thunderous orgasm.
actually — he could complain.
right as you’re about to cum, jj lifts his head suddenly from beneath your dress — slick coating his lower face and a slight irritation to his brow.
“so what am i like just — like, a taxi or somethin’? who is this other guy anyway— the dude that was supposed t’drive you home? sounds like a douche—”
“jj!” you mewl, practically sounding like you were on the verge of tears. “was about t’cum!”
“my bad but real quick if you could just answer the— nope, okay—” he flinches as you weakly throw your fists at wherever you could reach, shoving him back down between your legs. “yes ma’am.” he mutters, before getting back to work.
when the two of you arrive back to your house in silence after the ordeal, hair and clothes a little mussed and disheveled from the backseat shenanigans — the curse of terrible timing strikes, and your older brother opens the front door before you get the chance, stepping out for a smoke.
“the fuck?” he doesn’t seem too alarmed, perhaps in the dark not noticing the clear post sex image projected onto the two of you.
“hey! big bro!” you squeak, overcompensating.
“howdy dude uh — your lil sis here she uh—” jj claps a hand down platonically on your shoulder as you go to speak over him with an explanation.
“he was just passing through and—”
“i saw her leavin’ some place alone n’couldn’t let that happen. drove her right on home. you better get straight to bed, missy.” jj scolds lightheartedly and now you’re avoiding everyone’s eyes, nodding as you squeeze through the two guys.
“mhm. goodnight!”
your brother watches you leave as he digs in his sweatpant pocket for his lighter, before turning his gaze back onto jj — who stands with wide eyes and pursed lips, still as a statue.
“whatever.” he shrugs tiredly, before moving past the blonde to walk down the drive to his usual smoking spot.
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stylespresleyhearted · 9 months ago
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THE MAJOR’S WIFE
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warnings: mentions of miscarriage, adultery, nsfw, marital problems, oral (m! receiving), spanking, being turned on even when your brain isn’t in it, bucky in 1x04, bucky married pre-war, slight age gap bc reader can come off slightly immature (i think?) angst, historical inaccuracies, new mediocre writer be nice
summary: John Egan gets to know his wife again
word count: 9.7k
notes: i’m not sure where this came from i wrote it all today and got no part of my research paper done. there’s really no point to it and also irl john egan was actually really close to his mother so i emphasized that here. he wrote to her so much. no disrespect to any of the real people, this is based on the show/show timeline as well.
Lila gets the call on the 2nd of October and her dreams come true.
Not entirely, no. The real dream would be having him home safe and the tragic war being over but she knows how fortunate she is to have the next best thing happen. Her husband’s been granted a few days leave and Colonel Harding believed it would do Major Egan some good to have his sweet, young wife join him during those days overseas. For the good of John’s mental health the Colonel or the President - or whoever was in charge, Lila really had no idea - had agreed to pay for her ticket and their hotel. There was only one thing they asked for in return and although it wasn’t explicitly said, Lila caught their drift: sort your husband out.
Lila knows it would do her no good to sit and wonder how horribly John must be doing in order for them to declare an all expenses paid trip for his spouse. All she does is worry for him anyhow so she forces herself to focus on the one good thing of the entire ordeal - she’s going to see her man.
There’d been letters, although not as many as she liked and she tried not to let it show how it hurt as every other wife received more than one letter at a time. Her John wasn’t the sort, she knew that when she married him. He was the kind of person who needed endless skies and land to maintain his sense of stability. Having him cooped up would do him no good and she partly wondered how much of what he was struggling with was the trauma he witnessed in the air and how much of it was feeling caged on base. At least his plane, good ol’ Mugwump (he wrote about her quite often) offered him the opportunity to head anywhere he wanted.
The only person he wrote consistently and readily to was his mother. It was rare if a week went by and she received no letter. During these instances it was more times than not an issue with the postal service.
Be that as it may, Lila knew who she married and it made her love him no less so she tried not to let it get to her. His mother was a saint. Firm and strong and loving all the same. Lila would have never survived sending John off if his mother wasn’t who and how she was. She held Lila at night when her cries woke her and she let Lila sleep in his old childhood bed. She kept food on their table and ensured everyone got their work done through the worry.
When John first left and Lila was sick to her stomach and vomiting multiple times of the day it was his mother who consoled her through the night when her sheets turned a crimson red and any ideals of having their baby through the war was lost.
Frances Egan was the glue holding them together. All of them, even her son who was an entire ocean way - so no. Lila would not be angry that she was John’s preferred pen-pal.
“You fix him right up,” Mama Egan had said in lieu of goodbye when leaving her at the airport, “you give him the loving he needs as his wife and the smacks he needs from me to get on the straight and narrow before sending him off to continue saving the world. You do it for him, not for any of them war bastards. You hear me?”
All Lila could do was nod. Dropping her bags on the floor and clutching her pseudo mother tightly. She was excited as she was frightened.
They had only gotten two months together before he had been pulled away. She didn’t want to complain, loads of women had gotten less time at all while others had only ever been left with the promise.
But her two months as Mrs. Egan? They’d been a dream. Her man was a romancer. He hadn’t hesitated in introducing her as the newly (and younger) Mrs. Egan, always resulting in an arm slap from his mother, he held open doors and he never stopped courting her; however she thinks the best times were when he was teaching her how to act married.
In their bed, at a home he had spent a year building for them. Using any extra pennies he had to pay off younger boys to help him hurry it along. Giving her the wrap-around porch she had always envisioned.
He showed her how to kiss. How to undress him. He had laid her underneath him, using his large frame to cover her completely, protecting her from the cold as he threw the sheets off them and making her feel tiny compared to him. She had never felt safer.
It had hurt the first time but he had held her through it. Never allowing any inches of space between their bodies; as if telling her they were in it together. She’d always known he was large, everything about him was large in general, but she never thought how much it would hurt to have all of him fit inside her. Lila hadn't wanted to disappoint him so she tried to muffle her tears and whimpers but he had swallowed her cries and gone slow, soft.
“If this is it, it’ll be enough,” he had promised, only about half way inside her and wiping away her tears with his thumbs. As a thank you she had taken that calloused thumb into her mouth and sucked. He allowed her; hiding his face in her neck and pressing wet kisses along there.
And for the first few times that had been it. She couldn’t take all of him and his thrusts couldn’t get too deep so he would only slip inside until her tight hole resisted and pulsed and he’d hump against that spot until reaching his pleasure.
“Do other girls take all of it?” She had asked a couple days later, trying to wrap her head around it.
She was no idiot. John Egan was no virgin.
“Yes.” Lila could always count on him to be honest. At least there was that. Meanwhile she couldn’t even fully pleasure him. She was failing as a wife. “Hey,” he lay facing her and she lay on her back. He tapped her cheek until she turned her face. “You’re my wife. That’s what makes this feel better.”
And she had beamed at his reassurance even though she didn’t feel much better. She knew John would never push her, and he couldn’t stand to see her cry, so if she ever wanted to learn to be a good wife she would have to take it upon herself.
So that’s what she did.
He was always on top and she was always on her back. That’s the first thing she had to change. From her understanding of it, from her talks with friends that always ended in giggles and blushing cheeks and from what she learned from John, it could be done in many different ways.
“I prefer to be in charge,” her school friend, Linda, had admitted to her. “Not like that -” she clarified, cheeks pink, “Just - if I’m gonna take it, I’d rather do it at my pace. Be on top. Some husbands are good like that. They’ll allow it.”
And knowing her husband wasn’t just good, he was great, she knew he would hold no qualms about it. The next time they lay in bed kissing it was easy to turn him over and straddle him. Move her wetness against his belly to let him know there was still more she just needed him to accept it.
Except he thought she was asking him to do it so he flipped her on her back again. And without breaking their kiss, she turned him over again.
It was more like they were wrestling.
Lila pulls away from his mouth, reluctantly, noticing his lips were wet and red and swollen and wondering if hers were much the same. They had been kissing for so long her mouth felt raw.
She loved it.
Straddling him, she reached behind her, feeling him standing straight and hard against her backside in between her cheeks. Sticky.
He gasped, bucking into her fist with a loud, guttural groan. It was so manly she rocked against his stomach again in need.
“Fuck, baby,” he grunted, “what’re you doing?”
“I want to try it like this,” she breathed, leaning over to whisper in his mouth, her tiny hand still wrapped around him and lining her up to her hole. “I want it all.” Lila clarified.
And John allowed it, like she knew he would. Let her take control and go at her pace. Let her swivel her hips on the way down to help with the tightness of being stretched so wide and thick.
Nothing but curses and promises of love leaving his lips. Gasping mine, mine, mine and my perfect fucking wife and I’m gonna fuck you forever.
He felt large inside of her, like if she was being split in two but it felt so good as the tip of him repeatedly hit a spongy part inside that had her coming with no contact to her clit for the first time.
She was beautiful, red splotches appearing on her body from the heat of their love-making, her hair tangled in his fists, her mouth falling open as she threw her head back - all of it was too much. He was flipping her over and pounding into her trying to chase his peak and a second one from her, their headboard banging against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts.
Things changed from then on. Sexually, that is. Becoming aware of how badly she needed to feel like she was pleasing him, John was not above using it against her. Like letting him lick at her.
“Good wives allow their husbands everything,” he would say, lips wide in a smile and eyes bright at the prospect of getting his way but Lila always knew the choice was really hers. He would respect what she wanted.
He was just too damn addicting. She couldn’t stand to tell him no.
His favorite times were when she allowed him to sit her over his face and let him feast. It drowned the outside world for him and he kept at it even after she had reached multiple orgasms and was pulling on his hair and the only thing keeping her up was his forearms locking around her thighs.
Her favorite was when he allowed her to taste him at the same time he was licking her. It was a tie between those times and when he held her down until all of him was in her mouth and she was spluttering, choking, gagging. Knowing she made a filthy vision and he adored it did something to her.
Now she was in London, closer to him than she had been in years, and all their intimacies were within reach. She could almost taste him, feel him petting back her hair and settling a hand at the low of her back. She still remembers the smell of his after shave and sweat, how he’d come into the kitchen asking for some of her homemade lemonade to help with the heat.
Jack Kidd was tasked with picking up Mrs. Egan from the airport and having her arrive at base with him. She remembers meeting him a couple of times before John shipped out early. Originally she was meant to wait for John at their hotel but there had been an issue when planning her flight and she arrived sooner than intended.
“Ma��am,” he greeted, placing a friendly kiss on her cheeks and taking her bags from her. “Bucky’s gonna be happy as hell to see your face.”
The tone in his voice - relief? alleviation? - had some of her happy wife's facade crumbling. How badly was her Johnny hurting that everyone was looking at her at his only chance to remain sane or alive?
Stop it. Maybe everyone’s just aware Johnny misses you. You’re his wife.
“Not as happy as me, I wager,” she returned with a smile. “I’m glad to see you’re doing okay, Jack. Glad to see you still kicking.”
His shrug didn’t soothe her worry but she saw him try to mask it with a smile.
“All we boys can do is pray.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder, gathering his attention. “You boys have got the prayers of our entire country protecting you.”
Jack simply nodded in response.
For the most part the ride to base was quiet. Her bags would be kept in the trunk until her and John were ready to drive out to London in a couple of hours and until then, she’d be his surprise at the officer’s club. Silver Wings, Jack called it. Where all the boys gathered and had drinks and celebrated accomplishments. And where some chose to mourn, too.
Her stomach was turning as she neared the hut, following Jack’s footsteps. There was so much that could go wrong and although this was meant to be a surprise, the U.S Army showing their gratitude towards a brave Major, she suddenly wished she would have called John and told him. She wished he knew so that she wouldn’t have to walk in feeling alone and unwanted.
Not that Lila thought John would turn her away, she simply wanted to have him hold her hand as she walked through the threshold.
“Stick close by,” Jack murmured, being respectful of where he touched her before deciding to lead her by her shoulder. “It gets crowded but I’ll take ya to him.”
As she walked through different groups, she felt the offending eyes of men and women alike. Wondering who she was. With a pang in her heart she realized she had met John’s squadrons before but all these crews were new. The boys she met, most of them at least from what she could tell, hadn’t made it. John never wrote about who passed away (except to inform her of Curt) ; most of their letters were him expressing his love and how he missed her so and asking what she got up to.
Having walked around the roundabout bar in the center of the room, her stomach in knots and fingers tangled in front of her - she caught sight of her husband smack middle in the dance floor. Pressed against a beautiful brunette.
Lila caught sight of him before even Jack did. That’s how connected she was to her husband. Jack whistled from beside her to gain Gale’s attention who was resting against the bar holding his signature ginger ale, also watching John Egan chat up the woman he was swaying with with something like disapproval in his eyes.
His large hands were occupying most of the space of her waist, keeping her body tethered to his as she laughed.
“Lila,” he gasped, eyes wide. He was smart enough to not turn and look at his buddy. To act as if nothing was amiss and she expected nothing less from Gale Cleven, “damn it all to hell. You’re a sight for sore eyes, Mrs. Egan.”
Because he was close to John, he didn’t hesitate in wrapping her up in a tight hug and pressing a kiss to her tinted cheeks. He knew John wouldn’t mind.
When he pulled back she patted his chubby cheek in return, “You still shame the rest of us with your good looks, Gale,” she laughed. “I’ll let Marge know when I see her next.”
Lila also knew she would share with Marge that while Gale was being loyal, standing off to the side her husband was exchanging oxygen with a woman on the dance floor.
His cheeks tinted at the mention of his girl. Buck and Bucky were both aware Lila and Marge wrote to one another and visited each other whenever time made it possible.
“Colonel Harding said Major Egan was in need of something from home,” she said, studying his reaction to see what she could read but Gale had always been aloof, cold. He wasn’t close to her like he was with Marge and John.
Gale thought back to a few moments earlier when John had disrespected their Colonel and all his actions before that too - disrespecting superiors, drinking more consistently, becoming angry - hopelessness in his eyes.
“He’s in need of you Lila,” Gale clarified and it wasn’t lost on either one of them that he they were referring to was currently on the floor wooing another woman.
“Holy shit! It’s Mrs. Egan!” Hambone animatedly announced and suddenly it felt like the eyes of everyone in there were on her. Her cheeks tinted pink, never having been one for the spotlight like her husband.
She was greeted with welcoming cheers and hugs.
John, for his part, disentangled from the woman he was holding at the mention of his missus. He was sober enough to appear sheepish and guilty, but in the next second it was gone as he stalked towards her. Determined. Quick. His smile growing the more he neared like he was becoming more aware she was really there and it wasn’t a fucked up scenario in his head.
“God, Lila,” she managed to hear him say before she was elevated in the air, his arms tight around her waist and lifting her high so they were at face level and he could kiss her. Channeling his love and exuberance and aggression into kissing his wife. “It’s you, it’s you, it’s really you,” he was saying in between smooches, “I missed you. So fucking much, doll.”
Basking in his love she didn’t feel the need to mention the woman that was so kindly keeping him preoccupied before she entered.
She couldn’t help the first tear from falling or the rest from following. It was like the tightness in her chest unlocked as she finally got to hold him and feel his heat surround her. He still smelled of after shave and the same hair gel that was kept in their bathroom at home but he tasted strongly of whiskey and cigarettes and strawberry lipstick.
John tucked his face into her neck, setting her down and bending to her level. Sniffling in there as he continued to hold her.
“None of that,” she did her best to stop her voice from wobbling or breaking, “we’re together. That’s all that matters.” She drew his face out from where he had hidden to pepper him with a few more kisses.
None of it was enough.
The rest of the guys were kind enough to return to the dance floor and act like they couldn’t see them.
“Who? What - why? How?” He was obviously having trouble forming coherent thoughts in between the kisses he continued stealing from her.
She was crying and laughing and trying to return all his touches. It was a terribly difficult ordeal but she had never been happier.
“Colonel Harding called and said you had a weekend leave. He said he talked to some of the higher ups but they couldn’t allow you a leave home so this was the next best thing,” she explained, cupping his cheek as she rubbed her thumb over his cheekbone. He had minor scars that weren’t there before.
She wanted to kiss every single one of them.
He was still bent towards her height, taking her in as she was taking him in.
She forgot how blue his eyes were.
He was whole. Complete. Hers.
“You’re here for the entire weekend?” He asked to confirm and she nodded, laughing when he lifted her again with a loud whoop to celebrate. That got a few of the guys to join in although they had no idea what their Major was celebrating.
“I need you,” his voice suddenly dropped, setting her down as he turned to the door. “Let’s go.” He was buckling up her coat to make sure she was protected from the freezing London air. She was lucky he was too far gone to scold her for arriving with it unbuckled in the first place - she could get sick.
“John, John - relax, my sweet man,” she laughed, cupping his cheek to get his attention. “We can stay for a while. We don’t have to go yet.”
It’s why she was at the officer’s club in the first place. She had arrived early.
John turned stiff in her hold, straightening to his full height as he suddenly loomed over her. “I’ve got you in my arms for the first time and you want to stay here?” His voice was tight. His face stern.
“Yes - no, I -” she was unsure of where she went wrong or how to fix it. She clasped his hands in hers but he didn’t allow her to thread their fingers together so it was just her holding on. “I just meant we’ve got time, John.”
The way he was looking at her made her want to cry. She felt her lower lip quivering.
She felt ashamed, whispering, trying to get him to keep his cool.
“Time? Time?” He laughed loudly. She was mildly aware of Gale breaking away from a group of guys to near them, worried but she was mostly focused on John. The tense lines on his face even as he laughed and the quirked eyebrow even though she found no amusement in their situation. “You think I’ve got time? You have no idea what it’s like up there.”
She shook her head but didn’t try to verbally explain herself. She wasn’t sure she could manage a few words before breaking into tears.
“Come on, Bucky,” that was Gale stepping in to save the day. Perhaps the only person who could get John to listen. “When have you ever left before dancing with your girl? You gotta show these rookies how it’s properly done right?”
With Gale slapping a hand to John’s shoulders, he seemed to snap out of it. Releasing a deep breath and seemingly all the tightness in body with it.
He leaned down again, pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, clasping a hand around her neck so she wouldn’t pull her head back. As their eyes locked she felt a tear fall again and this one wasn’t happy. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. It’s this place. It’s fucking with my head.”
And she chose to believe him, nodding her head in understanding and trying not to think about how she wasn’t his preferred person to write letters to or the one who could clear his head.
Maybe the Colonel should have allowed a weekend pass for Gale and John.
Lila swallowed the thought, allowing John to pull her to the dance floor as he lost all anger and aggression and became charming and loving all over again.
“Everyone, this is my wife!” He bellowed and everyone cheered in response. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and -” he hiccuped and she realized he was drunker than she thought, “and I bet we can out dance any couples here tonight!”
So for the next hour she found herself being twirled around the dance floor by her husband. She almost forgot their prior negative interaction; his love and energy was so infectious. For the slow songs he would hold her close and she would rest her head against his chest, letting it lull her to a relaxing state. He was alive and she was with him. That had to be enough. For the more upbeat songs, he was challenging any couple beside them. Asking those sitting who were better dancers? Who could perform certain dance moves better?
And all throughout, he was like he used to be back home. Loud and happy and the center of attention, keeping everyone entertained. He kept announcing to his boys that his beautiful wife was there and then he’d place a wet kiss on her mouth that had their cheeks (and hers) turning red but all he would do is smile and continue on.
She was finally able to disentangle herself from him when Crosby pulled him in for a conversation. Lila wonders if her state of disheveled hair and panting breaths made him want to aid her in allowing her to sit and grab a refresher.
Once she accepts Crosby’s hug and cheek kiss, she excuses herself to go grab a drink. John only pulls her back once to steal a kiss before she gets too far.
Her lips might be bruised by the time they leave if he kept it up.
She orders a cup of ice water from the man tending the bar, looking back out at her husband as she waits. He’d always been tall and strong, but she notices the change in his posture. The bulges in his arms as he twirled her around and lifted her in the air. His eyes were only bright when he forced it. They had lost their shine and she wishes she brought the picture from back home. Where he looks young and full of life and joyful. Even when he smiles he seems hollow; hopeless.
She’s there but he doesn’t really care because in his head he’s already thinking of when she leaves again.
She wasn’t used to that. Her John only lived in the moment.
“He keepin’ you busy?”
Gale settles up behind her and pushes the glass water towards her. She didn’t even notice when it was put down.
“Dizzy, more like,” she jokes and gets him to crack a smile. She thinks to when she walked in and seen Gale, how he’d been watching the scene unfold but with a disapproving look in his eyes. How he didn’t try to hide the scene from her or excuse it. He let it be. And she knows John has never shied away from attention. He’s always been handsome and charming and girls always swarmed but Lila wasn’t aware she had to be around to keep him loyal. She thought he just was. And she knows it’s not too long before they leave now so she decides to be direct with him. “So, does that happen often?”
She sees Gale’s expression split for a second, like he debates playing dumb before deciding against it and she respects him even more for it.
“I think you should talk to John about it.” He decides on.
“Is it something that needs to be mentioned?” She doesn’t like playing this game with him but she knows at the first words of cheating and adultery Gale is going to excuse himself and her chance will be lost.
She can’t be simple and ask: Does my husband cheat on me?
“Another ginger ale, Marty,” Gale raises two fingers to grab the man’s attention and mutters a thanks as his drink is immediately refilled. He turns his attention back to Lila. “He still loves you, Lila. It’s just - hard. Being out here.”
“You seem to be coping fine.”
She feels bitter. Crazy. There’s a sob she has to choke back.
Lila’s too embarrassed to meet Gale’s gaze. Ashamed that everyone knows what’s been going on and she was the ditzy woman being twirled on the dance floor.
“I think I was used to loneliness. He isn’t.”
And he says nothing else as he leaves her behind heading back to his boys. It’s just Lila and her shattering heart and her husband calling to beckon her back to the dance floor.
Luckily they didn’t stay much longer. She walked over to Bucky but he wasn’t able to pull her back out for a dance - it’s my song, Lila! - because Jack Kidd was approaching, letting them know it was time to leave them at the train station.
Lila waited in the car while Bucky ran into his quarters to pack his bag. He didn’t have many things to take, he would be stuck wearing his uniform anyway. Gale walks him back out to the car and despite the earlier conversation Lila exits the safety of the interior to say her goodbyes.
“Take care of yourself, Major,” she squeezes him, “I need you to stick around after this weekend to look after my man.”
“It’s a hard job but I try,” he replies, both of them ignoring Bucky’s protests.
Besides that, Bucky’s quiet on the ride to the train station. He carries her bag on board but he’s quiet for the duration of the train ride. Lila doesn’t disturb him; he might be tired or hungover or both.
And if she’s honest she’s scared of him snapping at her like the night before.
Instead she takes the time to take him in. He’s handsome in his suit. Tall and big and strong, his sharp jaw and powerful mouth, his eyes blue like a sunny day and his curls coming undone from the gel after all the dancing he did.
Lila doesn’t allow her mind to wander down this path too often but suddenly she can’t help it. Would their baby have looked like him or like her? She wishes more than anything they would have had his ears. She wishes they would have had his heart and his strength - but her loyalty. Her faith in them.
It’s crazy when she stops to think she was nineteen when she married him and now she’s twenty-one. She’s loved him for more than she’s been allowed to have him. She has changed without him like he has without her and it’s frightening to think neither of them could be accepting of those changes. Whatever they may be.
Lila shuts those thoughts out, closing the distance between them to sit on his lap. Passerby’s and his horrible mood and what scares her could be damned to hell - all she wants is her man.
John doesn’t deny her; she admits she was a little scared he would.
“I love you,” she tells him, catching his eyes.
“I know.”
He doesn’t return the words as they continue staring at one another but she refuses to let it get her down. This is her husband. She has the rest of her life to get to know him; new or old habits, she doesn’t care.
So instead, Lila plasters a smile onto her face. “What’re you gonna show me first in London, Major?”
“Well I really wanna show you our hotel room,” he plays along, allowing her to trace the edges of his mustache. She lets out a knowing chortle. “And I really want to show you -” he cuts himself off to look around, making sure no one was near them as he leans in to whisper, “- my cock, Mrs. Egan.”
She turns a bright red, trying to sputter out a proper response for that but all she can do is indignantly scold him. “John Clarence! If your mom were here -” and they both break out in loud laughter at the many possibilities of what his mother would exactly do to him if she heard his wicked mouth.
“Wanna grab some grub first?” He asks instead, knowing she hadn’t eaten at the officers club and before then she had been stuck on a plane. “I know a few places.”
Lila nods happily, pressing a kiss to his mouth. His lips are warm and as plump as she remembers them. His mustache tickles her.
“Let me feed you first, woman!” He groans, trying to be a gentleman. “When’s the last time you ate?”
She puckers her lips to think about it and that’s the only answer he needs: food is definitely first.
When they arrive at the hotel John enters to check them in but he slips a few bills into the bell boy’s hand with strict instructions to leave the bags in their room before pulling her back out to the London streets.
Lila felt underdressed surrounded by women in diamonds and fancy hats, and it didn’t help that John was beside her in his uniform looking dapper and catching the eye of many. They were stopped multiple times on the way to the diner; men wanting to shake his hand and show their gratitude while the women introduced themselves, uncaring of Lila under his right arm.
As long as he wasn’t ignoring or dismissing her she realized she didn’t really care. It wasn’t much different back home; everyone knew and loved John Egan.
The diner he chose was small and cozy and his legs were too long to fit under their table so his boot and his knee kept bumping into her own and she adored it. She wanted to feel close to him and since sitting on his lap currently wasn’t an option she figured this would have to do.
He tells her many stories but none of them are sad or tragic. He only shares the happy ones. He talks about how he convinced the Colonel to allow Buck, Curt, and himself a London weekend pass one time and they had shoved Gale into a haberdashery where he tried on a multitude of top hats worth more money any of them would ever see combined. But because they were soldiers and majors at that, the owner allowed it. There’s a museum nearby he talks about wanting to take her too, it showcases art from as early as the 1400s and he says he’s gotten lost in there plenty of times and it was lovely.
All the while, she listens without hearing him. Choosing to take him in and letting her mind wander to how it would be if things were different. It pains her to think how much older he looks since she last saw him. Looking more like it was ten years instead of the measly two. John’s always been one to smile freely but the wrinkles by his mouth, eyes, and forehead aren’t from smiling or laughing too much.
Lila knows they’re from worrying and stressing and being scared and she hates that she can’t understand him or be there for him. No matter how hard he tries.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes when a sob breaks free. She curls in over the table and John’s reaching over to rub her shoulders. She grabs a hold of her hand in his. “I just missed you so much.” She presses a kiss to his knuckles. “I don’t think I know how to not miss you.”
John doesn’t say anything but he motions a server over to settle the bill and once that’s done, he’s taking her hand and pulling her out the chair.
“You got enough food in you?”
All she can do is nod.
Her body feels electric on the short walk back to the hotel. He doesn’t do more than hold her hand and she thinks that is what has her nerves jittery, his palm in her hand sets her alight. She can feel his rough skin and the calluses on his fingers and the fingertips he runs over her skin and she bites back a moan.
Moaning in the middle of a bustling London street? She’d be thrown into an asylum she’s sure.
Beside her he’s quiet but his steps are quick. She has to lightly jog to keep up with long strides. He pulls on her hand to help her keep pace. It makes her think he’s as impatient for it as she is so she was surprised when upon closing the hotel room behind him he stays by the door. Not nearing or touching or kissing.
Just - nothing.
Her throat becomes tight again as she remembers the girl from the night before and her conversation with Gale. Is that the reason why?
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says before she can spiral any further. Approaching her and bringing their lips together in a searing kiss, wasting no time in sliding his tongue alongside hers.
“I love you,” she responds and once again he doesn’t say it back. She figured he wouldn’t but she wanted to try. He takes her mouth in his again.
She gets irrationally angry, suddenly feeling the need to claim him so she bites at his bottom lip. He pulls back to press a finger to his lip, wiping the blood there.
Lila pulls on his belt, dropping to her knees right there in the middle of the room.
Mine. He’s mine.
“Make me your wife again,” she’s not sure but it sounds like she’s begging as she manages to unbuckle his belt and pull them around his strong thighs.
“God,” he breathed, “fuck. Look at you.”
Swollen lips parted for him to put to use. John wrapped his fist around her long hair to maintain a good grip, allowing the tip of his cock to hit the back of her throat. There was no resistance, no gag, her body remembering how it was taught to take all of him even though time had passed. John loved that fucking mouth and he found himself angry as thoughts entered his mind - if anyone had fucked her mouth while he’d been away - and he jerks his hips more forcefully. Rough.
This time Lila does gag. Her hand goes to push against his hip but he doesn’t allow her to pull away.
“Did anyone else do this?”
She splutters, eyes on him and confused with a mouthful of cock, unable to talk.
“Did you suck someone else’s cock? This is mine, Lila. Mine.”
He holds her down for a couple of more seconds before allowing her reprieve. She sputters and coughs, looking at him the entire time.
His dick is still hard and long, standing to attention, and he’s not sure whether he should apologize before she’s taking his bobbing dick back into her mouth. To the back of her throat and gulping and fondling his balls. Her nose kissing the coarse hairs on his belly trail and although it feels fucking amazing - he can feel the anger too. Her anger.
How dare he accuse her.
When she pulls off there’s a strand of saliva connecting his prick to her tongue. She has half a mind to go back for more but he’s pulling her back by her hair.
“I’m so lucky to have a wife who’s cock hungry,” he groans, pulling her to her feet by her hair and connecting their mouths in a rough kiss. Their teeths crash and tongues wrestly and he feels fucking crazy that she tastes like him. Simultaneously ripping each other’s clothes off.
Lila didn’t have any warning. One second she was kissing him and ripping open his shirt and the next she was bent over the bed with her ass in the air. John ran a finger over the wet patch on her underwear. The bite on her cheek was also unexpected and she clawed at the sheets, sure she could come from the feeling alone.
“This is mine, Lila,” he leaned in close, burying his face in her underwear. “Mine.”
All she could do was whimper and agree.
John smacked her ass so hard it jiggled. Lila yelled and after the pain ceded, time seemed to stop. Nothing but their rough breathing filling the room. John had never done that before.
She wasn’t sobbing but there were tears escaping. She was sure he didn’t know. He was waiting for a reaction.
Lila wasn’t sure where this side of her husband came from. Had he held back those two months? Did he learn it in Europe? Was that why there was another woman - because she couldn’t satisfy him?
She can’t lose him.
“Please,” she begs, hiding tears in the duvet, “do it again.”
Lies. It was all lies but John believes her and he strikes again. She yelps, fisiting the sheets. He believes it’s in pleasure.
Ten slaps. That’s how many she endures before he begins shushing and petting her again. He runs his fingers through her folds and although she didn’t enjoy the punishment mentally - she did nothing wrong, he was the liar - her body certainly did. She’s sopping wet, she’s gonna have to throw out her underwear because they’re destroyed.
“Did you enjoy that?” He grabs a fistful of her hair to sit her up, her back against his sweaty, matter chest. “You like being spanked, baby?”
“Yes.” It’s only half of a lie.
“Now - now, I’m going to fuck you. Nice and hard, just how you like it,” she wants to scream at him. She wants to hit him. When did she ever like it hard? When was hard ever nice? Who was he thinking about because it wasn’t her.
But at the same time she rocks back against him to feel his cock hard between her cheeks. She can’t say she doesn’t want it. Him. This.
He pushes her back down at her teasing, using his now free hands to spread her cheeks and show her tight asshole. Untouched and pure. He presses the tip of his cock against it but he doesn’t push. He doesn’t move.
She jerks at the pressure. Drools on the mattress as she tries to bite down to temper her screams.
Do it.
No, don’t.
“One day,” he promises, pressing deeper so her hole opens but not deep enough to push. “But today, today I want this.” And without any prepping like she’s used to, without any more warning, he’s sliding down and pushing into her. Hard. Deep.
She screams, can’t help it, claws at the mattress in an attempt to crawl away.
It hurt but it felt so good.
Who was she?
“You think you can go be with other men? Let them use the holes I trained? The ones that belong to me?” He pumps into her deep. Once, twice. She’s so wet the noises filling the room are pornographic, her yelling and his panting and her sopping wet vagina smacking against his thighs and taking his cock so well. “You like it like this, Lila? Like when I fucking own you?”
“Yes, yes,” she swears and this time she isn’t lying. It’s all she can manage; she thinks she’s gone cock dumb. There are no words, no feelings, just the feeling of him filling her.
She clenches tight when he slides out. She wants him inside her forever.
He releases his hold of her hair, stepping away. He’s tired of muffling her moans and words. He’s tired of not being able to see her beautiful face.
John’s favorite face in the entire world.
“Turn around,” he commands.
Lila kneels on wobbly legs as she turns over, having little to no energy and bouncing as her body lands with no grace on the mattress. John grabs one of her jiggling breasts in his large hand, squeezing tightly.
“I fucking missed these.” He takes one in his mouth, biting down on her nipple hard. She shrieks but holds his head to pull him closer.
Her thighs are forced open by his hand and then he’s taking hold of himself and thrusting in deep again. Releasing her breasts from his mouth in order to look at her mouth. Lila’s face when he’s fucking her is as close to heaven as he thinks he’ll ever get. She’s incoherent but she’s begging for more - that much he can make out. She manages to gather the strength to grab hold of him and pull him down, clawing at his back.
He hisses at the pain and bites on her collarbone to reciprocate it.
When she grabs the nape of his neck, the cool touch of her wedding ring against his skin, it gives him pause. This was his wife. His wife.
John has been gone so long he thinks he forgot he was married.
“I love you,” he finally says it, pressing his forehead against hers as he slows down. He sniffles then, leaning down to press a wet open-mouthed kiss against hers and swallow her moans. John can’t believe he forgot he had this; can’t believe he forgot for a minute how lucky he was. She’s gorgeous (and not just externally) and he’s quite sure he somehow managed to dream her up. “I love you,” he swears again.
This time she’s the one who doesn’t say it.
She clutches at neck and pulls him down to take a boob in his mouth. Looking him in the eye hurts too damn much. Why did he have to do this now? She was lost in the pain; she had been taking her punishment.
Lila squeezed her eyes shut, moaning loudly as she thrashed around the bed. Her orgasm taking over her body. She wrapped both legs tighter around John, squeezing and pulsing around him and dragging him to the edge with her.
“Fuck, fuck,” he roared, “so damn tight. Yes, Lila. My perfect wife.”
For a couple of seconds, they lay in the aftermath. Lila could feel the heat of John’s breath against her neck. She counted how many breaths they shared in between one another as they recuperated.
Forty-seven that’s how many breaths they shared as they stayed connected.
Forty-eight that’s when John managed to lift his head and place a peck against her mouth. One she didn’t return.
Forty-nine that’s when John pulled back in concern. Lila was so still.
Fifty. That’s the breath she used to say, “you cheated on me,” looking him right in the eyes as she broke out in uncontrollable sobs.
She cried and cried underneath him. Unable to move because her legs felt like jello and they held no power. Unable to push him off because she didn’t want to let him go. Unable to speak because she was suffocating in her heartbreak.
John watched her until he couldn’t, until he was afraid she was going to choke on her own tears and then he was sitting her up, trying to ignore the way she fought against his touch.
I’m sorry, I’m here, he kept saying.
I hate you, she thought but didn’t say.
Until finally, “don’t touch me!” She yelled when he got too close and made to wrap her up in a hug. “Get away from me, John. Stay away.” She crawled to the edge of the bed and curled herself into a tiny ball. Aware she was fully naked and he was still leaking out of her but she couldn’t find it in herself to do anything except cry.
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t open her lungs and get any air in. She slapped at the headboard, aware that she was having a panic attack as suddenly everything hit her all at once. It was entirely consuming and she couldn’t do anything to fight against it except cry. All the feelings rushed her at once.
This was going to be it. The weekend of two lovers reunited was the weekend from hell and this was going to be it. She was going to return home in a day and he would stay in Europe and continue to fight the war and seek out other girls and when he returned she wouldn’t be his wife anymore.
Lila would be scornful and full of resentment and miserable and he would leave her. This last time was going to be all she had and she hated him for ruining it.
Why couldn’t he hide his affairs better?
Why did she have to surprise him?
She was perfectly happy not knowing. She was worried and stressed to hell and crying every night missing him but, oh God, all that was better than this.
Lila isn’t sure how long it’s been since she last took a breath but she feels herself fading. She’s shivering and naked in their bed and she can only slightly take in that John’s wrapping her up in the duvet and curling himself around her to warm her up. She’s trying to tell him she can’t breathe, she’s suffocating, at the same time he’s blowing air in her face.
She’s fading when she feels it. A sting on the left side of her face. Hard and sharp and enough to have her gasping for a deep breath.
“Baby, please, wake up,” he’s crying over her, his head on her chest, “wake up. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Her chest aches. She coughs.
He whips his head up so fast she almost laughs. Almost.
“Lila,” he holds her against his chest, rocking them back and forth on the bed as she takes in her surroundings. She isn’t sure how long she was out or how long she was panicking for. Had the sun been setting while she lost her shit? It was dark outside now. “Don’t leave me, you can’t leave me. Please.”
She taps at his arms to get him to release. She doesn’t think she can talk.
John allows her the space but he doesn’t remove himself from the bed. He stays kneeling, watching her. His hands keep twitching like he wants to reach out and touch her but he’s trying to respect her wishes of not being touched.
She doesn’t lay back down, she stays resting against the headboard. Breathing hurts. She’s scared of suffocating once more. Her left cheek begins burning and she wishes she had the strength to go look in the mirror. Did he mark her? She hopes he did.
Lila’s glad he made it hurt.
“You need to go,” she finally manages to say, ignoring the way he’s already shaking his head in defiance. “Leave me here, John. I want you to go. Get another room.” Find another woman. “I leave in a day.” She wishes she never came to stupid London. She wishes she could forget this entire trip.
“Lila it’s the war,” he starts, shaking in his own tears. “It’s all the shit I see, baby. None of it was because of you okay? None. You don’t fucking know what it’s like up there for us but I stay alive in hopes of coming home to you.” He promises.
She shakes her head, fighting back any more tears. How the hell could she still have any tears left?
“But Gale didn’t cheat,” it bursts out of her before she can stop it and she knows it’s the wrong thing to say entirely.
John stops his apologies, clearing his throat as he gets up and begins dressing into his suit. She doesn’t stop him. She doesn’t take back any of what she said. She gets tired of sitting so she lays on her side, staring out the window and noticing London doesn’t have many stars. Is that why it’s so horrible here? Because there were no stars to wish upon.
She could hear his boots stomping on the ground as he reached the door. “Maybe you should have married Gale fucking Cleven then.” And the door slams shut behind him.
She wonders if he’s angry enough to find a girl and sleep with her. Her eyes blur. The time on the clock is six p.m and London’s already dark. She realizes she hasn’t slept since her plane ride. About 19 hours awake - her and John.
Lila allows her eyes to close, hoping when she wakes everything will be better.
Shadows over her eyelids wake her up. Lila finds she hasn’t moved. She’s in the same position facing the window. Facing London, only now bombs are dropping over it. The prettiest colors burst forward in the window but she knows it's truly only tragedy and loss. Murder.
She recognizes John sitting in the arm chair and she wonders when he got back. He isn’t facing her, he’s watching bomb after bomb drop and land no more than mere miles away from them. He’s holding a whiskey on ice, twirling the ice so it hits against the glass.
Lila wonders then if it was the shadows or the noise that woke her up.
“I must have punched in my card a long time ago,” his voice is strong in the dead of the night, seemingly even louder than when he’s singing in the pub. “It must be the reason for all of this. Karma.” He scoffs.
I deserve this, is what he’s trying to say.
Lila feels her stomach twist and spin and there’s bile sitting in her throat. She closes her eyes to stop herself from imagining John in a plane, dropping a bomb that lands on children. She closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to see the hurt sitting on his shoulders.
She remembers how angry she was when he first signed up. Before they were married. They had been dating for over a month, barely, and she already scribbled ‘Mrs. Egan’ over her notebooks. She’d heard it from his younger sister, Eileen, and she felt her world stop. She hadn’t hesitated to run to the stables he worked at and confront him in front of all the men.
“You’re leaving me,” she had accused him. “You’re gonna leave! I’ll never forgive you, John Egan.”
And in front of everyone he’d knelt down and produced a ring, the one his father had given his mother and said, “Marry me.” He didn’t ask because they both knew it wasn’t a question.
She was already his.
And he was hers.
Lila had forgiven him and promised to love, honor, and obey for the rest of her life.
She doesn’t have the strength to stand so even though her throat burns she speaks. “Lay with me,” she croaks. Her voice is raspy and broken and even clearing it aches.
John shakes his head. “You don’t want me to.”
“Lay with me,” she repeats, firm. “I just want to fall asleep with you.”
He looks at her like he's scared to believe. Trying to figure out whether she’s simply being cruel and going to kick him out in her next breath. Or more likely, he’s scared she’ll lose her shit being near him again.
John, hopeful and never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, sets his drink down and nears the bed. Lila keeps her eyes locked on his and he does the same. Their moves and tension resemble a game of chicken, one of them afraid any sudden change can have the other running off.
“Take off your uniform,” she says when he pushes back the covers while still fully dressed. He jerks his head in confusion and she bites her lip to contain a laugh at his dirty mind. Sex is the last thing on her mind. “I want to feel you, that’s all.”
John does as she asks, setting his cap down and shredding every layer before he’s naked and gorgeous and sliding in beside her. She doesn’t allow herself to think about what it means when she immediately slides closer.
Lila’s the one to wrap her arms around him.
Lila’s the one to intertwine their legs.
John follows her lead, lifting an arm so she can raise her head and use it as a pillow. She scoots her face closer and she nuzzles into her armpit, smelling his deodorant and feeling his hairs poke at her nose. She moves further along, escaping the cocoon of his armpit to press her cheek against his chest. She clutches his dog tags in her palm, tight, so he can’t get up in the middle of the night.
“Can we fall asleep together?” She asks, but when she looks up John’s already there.
The next time Lila wakes up her palm aches. She releases what she’s gripping, remembering how she clung to John’s dog tags when he slid into bed beside her. She lifts her head and finds John already looking at her.
He’s got the saddest eyes she’s ever seen and she hates that she’s partly why.
“We should talk,” her voice is low and cracks from not being used. John nods his head but makes no move to begin.
Lila lays her head back on his chest, lightly picking at his matted, curly chest hair. She presses her lips to a freckle near his nipple and his intake of breath lets her know he felt it,
“I’m not the one you write the most letters too,” she starts, finding it easier to not have to look him in the eye. “You write the most to your mom. And I’m not the one who can calm you down when your anger gets the best of you,” she’s so tired of crying, “that’s Gale. “And I can’t even be here for you at the end of a mission to console you or kiss you or help you forget,” she chokes on a sob. “That’s whoever else.”
I couldn’t even keep our baby healthy, she leaves out.
“What’s your point with all this, Lila?”
Lila lifts her head from his chest, “My point is I’m a horrible wife. I - I don’t know if it was too soon or just not thought out but this - I- ” she can’t get the rest of the words out.
“Don’t say that,” John sits up against the headboard, forcing her up as well. He grabs both her wrists in one of his hands to pull her closer and grab her attention. “Don’t fucking tell me that, Lila.”
“I don’t make you happy,” she shakes her head.
“You do. Everything I do, everything I’m doing - it’s for you Lila.”
“I don’t want to marry Gale. Or someone like him. I love you. Only you. But I’m scared that I don’t make you happy. You deserve better.”
“Oh you dumbass,” John coos, suddenly finding the entire situation amusing. He pulls her in for a hug. “You’re my entire fucking heart, Lila Egan. You don’t think you make me happy? You’re the only thing in my life, in my head, that makes me happy.”
She pulls away to hold his face. “If you’re gonna leave me John you need to tell me now. I don’t care about the girls if all they are is to pass the time. And I don’t care that you write to your mom more than me and I don’t care that Gale is the one you listen to but I just need to be the one you love the most. I need to know I’m making you happy.”
His heart aches at the fact that he made her feel she was ever anything less than the most important person in his life. “Lila,” he presses a kiss to her lips, “Rose,” another kiss, “Egan,” another. “Are my only reason for staying alive.”
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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago
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Yan arena beasts/fighters + handler reader. Reader is an average human working at a zoo/shelters abducted and thrown into a life of caring for a galactic tyrant's playthings due to their experience with animals. Not an idea choice for the job, but with everyone who's had the job before being maimed, killed, or worse they were running out of options. Reader does the best with what they're given. They find solitude with the other captives to an extent and some of the more feral creatures remind them of stray cats and dogs they knew back home. They treat those who allow as those same poor creatures out of habit and to cope with their new life. Others are so aggressive they have to be blindfold and sedated to even get close. Reader still tries to comfort them despite the many scratches and bites they receive
A little mix up happens where a warrior meant to fight the big bad of the area had already been slain by the beast. With no alternative, reader gets sent out instead as sacrifice to appease the blood hungry masses. They cower in the corner as the beast's mask is removed, praying their battered body at least gets shipped home so they have a proper burial and their family has some clue to what happened to them. They cast their small dagger away still unable to defend themselves against what they only see as a frightened animal protecting its own skin. The beast lifts them off the ground like a ragdoll holding them high for the crowd to see as its fangs draw from its scarred lips - breaking the band around its wrist that would seal reader's victory.
The beast ties the rope around reader's neck as the announcer declares them victor by default. The crowd boos, but as the beast snaps the neck of one of the guards and throws the limb body into the arena their demands are met. Reader quakes from the sheer disbelief of the whole ordeal, and still being trapped in the beast's arms as it coos. It takes over a dozen guards to get them to separate the two. They try again with another beast reader has care for and the same thing happens. Watching the live footage closely it's clear to experts the skilled fighters allow themselves to get injured to be coddled and tended to by reader. When rations are given they try to feed reader a share of their meals. The number of casualties skyrocket when reader's taken away or new caretakers are introduced. The beasts demand their head pats and ear scratches for their winnings and they want it from one source alone.
-
The emperor is quite amused by this revelation. It perfectly masks his paranoia in the case of his pets rising against him for whatever reason and choosing the earthling as their new overlord which few have spoken of in whispers. He's torn between killing them to null his fears and befriending them to puppeteer his pets craftfully from the shadows. He decides on the latter since getting rid of them would only anger his pets. That and it would be so easy to trick the human with his charms. Few can resist the words and body of a king, after all.
"Y/n, darling, it's so good to see you! So glad you could make it. How have things been, hm?"
"I'd like to go home, please."
"Hahaha! Oh, you're so cute with your little jokes! You may enjoy your meal in due time, but I have a favor to ask of you from a friend to a king. In the case of I don't know - my pets slaughtering my entire legion and storming my castle walls to behead me and crown you ruler - would you pretty please ask them to - not do that?"
"That....sounds like it would be out of my hands."
"Right. Changing subject, you are aware I have been topless this whole conversation and my bed is right behind me. Why haven't you attempted to have your way with me by now? Not saying you could - but you can always try."
The emperor upgrades their room to one right next to his, but they hardly sleep there favoring their time caring for the others and because they'd rather stay there than see him in a state of undress on their mattress. The emperor mimics the cooing that gets wounded beasts extra smothering from their handler, but reader mostly ignores him. He grows jealous seeing them fast asleep in a cell kept warm by the body heat of the battle scarred creatures around them. He's been scarred by attempted assassinations in the past - why doesn't he get cuddles too? Combats this jealously by making a royal decree that reader has to sit with him during every battle and on his lap if they wish to stay out of his sight afterwards. Requests for reader's fredom and hand in marriage and when a champion is chosen are banned almost immediately.
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lxgentlefolkcomic · 2 months ago
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Start reading Episode 1
Dialogue transcripts:
Panel 1
Irene:  Mina, I have to ask you...how did you know?
Mina:  Know, ah, know what?
Panel 2
Irene:  That Jonathan was alive. I thought you might simply be in denial, but now…
Mina:  The truth is, I…since our ordeal with the vampire, when I was—was nearly turned myself…
Panel 3
Mina:  I was spared that fate in the end, thank God! But there have been…lingering effects.  Some more frightening than others.
Panel 4
Mina:  I can’t describe it.  I feel a connection to Jonathan—I suppose I always did, but this—  It’s as if our hearts truly beat as one. I can sense where he is, feel his heart, the blood rushing in him.
Panel 5
Mina:  I can feel a trace of it with others, but it’s strongest with him.  Sometimes, it…it frightens me, Irene.
Panel 6
Irene:  Such trials always leave their marks on us, but we are no less for it.  And here, it let you give hope where there was none.
Panel 7
Mina:  Thank you, Irene.  I’ve never told anyone but Jonathan…
Irene:  Of course, my dear.  Come, we’d best get “decked out,” as our Texan friend put it.
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frudoo · 5 months ago
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Bells Ring (1)
Title: Fade Into You
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Warnings: Mentions of body-shaming, infertility, infidelity, alcohol consumption. Suggestive imagery.
MDNI
“May ah have this dance?”
Starstruck. That’s the only possible way to describe exactly how you felt the first time your eyes met that sea of cerulean peeking through long, dark lashes and a quirked brow. You tensed immediately upon hearing the prince’s unmistakable dialect. It was as if your body wanted to swallow itself whole, curl into a tiny little sphere like a frightened millipede hiding from a predator. He cleared his throat and you were drawn from your trance, hastily placing your dance card into his outstretched palm.
You were not the diamond of the season, not even close. Not even a nugget of bronze. Overlooked by Queen Aiyla herself, you fit in most perfectly with the common ladies of the ton, bonding over petty gossip and drinking lemonade in the gardens. Although you had a larger stomach and a softer jawline than most other ladies, you were friendly, pleasant company, and they treated you as such. Neither notably wealthy nor tragically poor, you were comfortable and content somewhere in between.
“I do apologize for my hesitation, Your Highness,” you’d said timidly as he led you to the dance floor, placing one hand on his shoulder and keeping the other in his.
“No apologies necessary, ah assure ye,” he’d responded with a charming lopsided smile, smoothly pulling you into his strong arms as the dance commenced.
Ewan had kept you occupied all night, much to the dismay of every mama and all of the more eligible ladies for a man of his nobility. He may as well have signed his name in every slot of your dance card, as he did not let another soul near you for the entire duration of the time he spent at the ball. When the night was over and the two of you parted ways, you were nearly positive that you must have dreamt up the whole ordeal, a childlike fantasy for a girl larger and far more inferior than nearly the whole population.
But the next morning, he’d arrived at your home to call on you and wasted his entire afternoon teaching you Gaelic phrases as well as entertaining your excitement over poetry. Ewan was kind and patient, holding your gaze and admiring your other features when you looked away. He was enamored with your beauty, your voice, your passions , simple as they may have been. You could not deny the butterflies in your soft stomach that only fluttered when he was around, or the goosebumps that rose across your delicate skin whenever his fingers brushed over yours.
From then on, the prince had made up his mind, spending most of his time courting you, taking you on walks through the gardens where all of the other ladies you had been acquainted with now looked upon you with jealous scorn. Ewan seemed to enjoy keeping you on his arm, showing you off. It was maddening, the absolute hold he had on your love-struck heart.
On a particularly cool night that autumn, he had snuck you into the innermost part of the woods, away from the night owls of society and into a safe haven where it was just the two of you. He’d lifted your skirt and sunk to his knees, worshiping the sweetness between your thighs like it was the only thing he was made for. You hadn’t known anything to feel better, not until his plump lips entwined with yours as he lay you on the damp grass and showed you what heaven hid beneath his trousers.
In less than a quarter of a year, he had proposed to you, and even quicker than that, you were wedded. The two of you honeymooned in Greece before returning to Glasgow, which you now called home. Just like that, you went from sewing your own dresses and cooking your own meals to eating dinner with the King and Queen as the respectable Princess MacTavish. It was overwhelming, to say the least, but the long nights you spent in your husband’s chambers made it all worth it.
You wish you could say you don’t know where it all went wrong. It was bliss in the beginning, days mostly spent in bed with each other or having picnics in the castle garden. But when you failed to conceive a child after your first wedding anniversary, tensions grew between you and your beloved. Ewan was supportive at the start, holding you while you wept and assuring you that you were not broken, these things just take time.
But by the time your second anniversary came around and you still were not with child, he had already withdrawn. He stopped inviting you to his chambers and declined each of your advances, only bedding you after his mother commented on the lack of intimacy between the pair of you. Ewan had become a shell of the man he used to be, a fraud residing in the body of the tender-hearted lover you fell so hard for.
Communications between you and your husband had been reduced to those of business, financials and such. When you would make your afternoon rounds around the ton to have tea with the elderly widows or pick flowers with the children to give to their mamas, Ewan would stay inside to write or drink his stress away. You grew to hate the smell of scotch.
After an especially nasty argument, your husband informed you that he would be taking some time for himself to travel. He might as well have smacked you across the face—for such royalty to travel for leisure without his wife was a clear sign that their marriage was in distress.
But you, innocent and naive, weren’t aware that the ton you poured all of your time into befriending had already sensed the strain long ago. Vicious whispers shaming your barrenness, blaming it on your plush body or lack of care, floated into every ear willing to listen like rotten leaves being carried by the breeze. The servants looked at you with pity as you watched Ewan ride away in his carriage, and gave you space to cry when you should have been bathing or eating dinner.
You were midway through another crying spell when the letter arrived on a random Tuesday afternoon, delivered to you by one of the servant girls. Addressed to Ewan, who still had not returned, with the heady scent of floral perfume seeping through the paper. Disrespectful as it was, you opened the letter and read it through furrowed eyebrows.
My Beloved Ewan,
Every second that we are apart is a dagger to this weary heart of mine. I am aware that you must return home to your family, or lack thereof, but I cannot stand to be an ocean away from you any longer. Come a fortnight after you have received this letter, I will be on my way to make my home in Glasgow. You will no longer need to travel to see me. Anytime you need me, I will be there. Until I am with you once more, hold this close to your heart and feel mine beat with yours. I belong to you entirely, ma chérie.
Coralie
You could practically feel your heart drop down to your stomach, bile rising until you abandoned the letter and your feet carried you to the drawing room. You emptied the contents of your belly into the chamber pot, hot tears accompanying the sting in your throat.
You desired to curl up into a ball the same way you wanted to the first time you met him. Perhaps your hesitation wasn’t something to have been ashamed of back then, rather an older and wiser version of yourself attempting to protect you from her inevitable heartbreak.
That Thursday, you heard the news that Ewan had returned, but you made no effort to reunite with him. The thought of seeing his face made you sick. The one who was supposed to be yours and yours alone had given his heart to another. Ultimately, however, a formal dinner invitation from King MacTavish could not be avoided.
Now, on an especially gloomy Saturday, here you sit at a silent dining table opposite your infidel husband, with your clueless in-laws in the same respective position on the other sides.
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