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atelier-maroron · 2 years

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Shakespeare × F!Reader William Shakespapa: Family Man — Part 1 —

rating: G word count: 919 tags: family, wholesome, light crack notes: written for my lovely friend @ikesimp100 as part of @ikemenlibrary's Ikevamp Gift Exchange | I've only managed to complete part 1 of this story before the deadline but I'll try to get the continuation out soon :)

A lavish chateau on the outskirts of late-19th-century Paris.

The players, a family of three: a beautiful woman of luminous smile and artful wit, a gorgeous but eccentric man with mismatched eyes, and their adorable four-year-old daughter—a shy red-haired child who on this sparkling morning is preparing for her very first day of school.

But the gentleness of this tale cannot be evoked without its opposite. Indeed, this tale begins with a dash of chaos and a sprinkle of frenzy.

"Mushrooms...check." You toss six vibrant caps onto your cutting board. A pivot of the heels and you're off to the pantry with a swish of your skirts.

"Cheese... cheese...," you mutter, juggling a whole list of chores in your head. None of which you are looking forward to as you'd much rather be the one accompanying your daughter to school today. You maneuver the pantry door open with one shoulder and a shock of cool air greets you. But your thoughts coalesce upon the incredible collection of cheeses that your versed husband has accumulated over the past season. A cheese for every manner of guest and occasion.

Fortunately the block in question is just one angled tilt of your cutting board away. With the block secured you peer deeper into the pantry. "Butter... butter... butter..." You freeze in your tracks, a family of lines settling on your brow. "Butter? Will, where's the...Oh!"

You throw a glance over your shoulder but you are surprised when Will manifests from the opposite direction. A light kiss brushes your cheek and your cutting board grows heavier with new weight. Will spins out past you and exits the pantry.

Your youngest perches comfortably on his shoulders, commandeering him toward the bread box. She teeters a bit and you gasp, reaching for your husband. "Will, she's going to—"

"I've got her, my Juliette," Will assures you with his roguish arc of his shapely lips. He swings back by with bread in-hand, but this time he gives the small of your back a playful tickle with his elbow. You squeal but refrain from swatting him back lest you instigate a mishap yourself.

Your dear Serenity laughs at her papa's antics. "Don't worry, Mama, I'll get him back for you." The nervousness from this morning seems to be all but gone from her expression, replaced with a conspiratorial glow that she could have only inherited from William Shakespeare.

— 1 Year Ago —

"Truly, truly remarkable. We've no shortage of prodigies among the residents, but Serenity is something else entirely." Comte sits legs-crossed in the chateau's sunlit salon. He looks the same as ever, not a year to his eternally youthful face. Soft waves of smoke rise from his tea-cup, rendering him strangely ethereal, but it is a sight that you've long-since become accustomed to.

"To have such aptitude for reading and writing at the mere age of three. Astounding. Ah, but regarding maths, I think we can rely on Isaac or Leo to tutor her, but the point stands." He shifts in his seat, excitement tinging every word. "I think you've been gifted more of a miracle than you bargained for, Will. You must be bursting with pride."

"Bursting is an understatement," you answer, stealing one of the gourmet biscuits from Comte's plate. You give it to Serenity who sits on the opposite sofa beside her papa. She doesn't look up, idly accepting the biscuit into her mouth as she scribbles away in her tiny folio. She has been working on her comedy of errors all month.

"Serenity, say thank you to Mama," Will chides her gently.

Serenity pauses. "Mama said she doesn't need thank-yous, she needs help with chores."

"You help her plenty, my starlight," Will replies.

"I wasn't talking about me."

Comte breaks out in laughter. "Sorry, I apologize. I can't tell which parent she's inherited such sass from."

"Definitely me," you say without missing a beat. You stick your tongue out playfully at Will.

Will sighs but his smile is nothing short of doting. "Serenity is exceptional in more ways than I can count. I fear for those who will share her company in years to come."

Comte sets his teacup down as his laughter finally subsides. "I sense some genuine fear in that sentiment."

Will's smile falls away for a moment. You wonder if Will is going to be forthcoming. He doesn't look to you first as he proceeds to answer, and you aren't sure how to take that.

"Her wit will serve her well, but as her father, I still worry. Entering a prestigious academy like the one you are suggesting is no small ordeal for a child of her age. The rigorous curriculum, the pressure..." Will trails off as his hands clench into fists, his eyes darkening. "I don't wish for her to ever think that she is below arbitrary standards. Nor to be consumed in pursuit of..."

"Will." You're about to get up from the sofa you're sharing with Comte when your husband looks up with a wistful smile.

"I know, my Juliette," he continues. "We can't know of what future challenges our child might face, but," he redirects his attention to Comte, "I am told Dazai's son and Isaac's twins both attend this same academy. So she won't be alone at the very least...?"

Comte nods and gives Will the smile reserved for his sons. "Our Serenity never has and never will know loneliness. As my dear friend would say, she is surrounded by far too many wonderful flowers."

— to be continued —

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