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wardenparker · 5 months

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At First Sight

Alan McMichael x female Reader

Rating: G for General Audiences, but this blog is always 18+! Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: Alcohol, flirting, period manners, fluff, scheming family members, undesirable dance partners. Summary: Alan's sister Eunice is finally engaged and their mother is throwing a grand ball to celebrate. It is the last place that he wants to be...until he meets a young lady who wants to be there just as little as he does. Notes: It's been so, so very long since I wrote anything solo. Please be kind -- all errors are my own, and this is definitely not beta read. It's just a little piece inspired by my downtime at work and countless rewatches of Crimson Peak. Alan deserves some happiness, so I wanted to give him a bit. If there's interest I'll try to write more for these two, but I'll understand entirely if there's not. Thank you so so very much for reading! Dedicated to @julesonrecord for her tireless patience in putting up with me babbling about this character and how he deserved better. And to @ruflirtingwithme for always letting me keep Wade in my pocket wherever I go. There's a bit of him in this as well, for sure.

Despite the tailoring of his tuxedo, the familiar weight of the costume, and the well-traveled ballroom he finds himself standing in, Alan McMichael shifts uncomfortably. He’s lost weight this past year, worry and injury taking their toll, and the tailor assured him that it could barely be seen but took his jacket and the waist of his trousers in anyway. He isn’t as fit as he once was. He isn’t as strong. Not since he followed Edith up that mountain in England, only to bring her back down again to dual hospitalizations and true exhaustion. The doctors at the sanatorium don’t allow him to visit anymore .They say it causes episodes of hysteria.

So now they must live inside their own heads separately, and his mother has taken that as meaning it is time to push him to move on. “It’s for the best.” His mother had said. But Alan couldn’t be sure. Still, he was forced to resume his everyday life, and now it has been a full year since that fateful trip to Crimson Peak.

Eunice’s engagement has been a blessing to distract Mrs. McMichael. Her ploy to whisk her daughter off to New York City in the early summer had paid odd and now Eunice is engaged to the son of some banker who claimed to have an ancestor lead the charge at the Battle of Cowpens. They were all, Mrs. McMicheals told everyone in earshot, quite proud.

Now it was Alan’s turn to once again have marriage prospects pushed on him, and he stood in the ballroom ready to receive guests alongside his father with a false smile and a belly full of dread.

* * * * * *

“I thought you didn’t like Mrs. McMichaels?” The question hands in the air as you finish getting ready for the ball this evening. Spending the Christmas holiday in Buffalo with your aunt and uncle had been your brother’s idea – trying to see that you were taken care of without directly saying that having you in his house would be a burden. So you had reluctantly agreed, giving most of your staff the better part of three weeks off and taking only your maid with you to Buffalo.

It’s not that I dislike her entirely, dear heart,” your aunt Joan insists. “I adore her soirees.”

“How foolish of me.” It takes all your strength not to roll your eyes but your maid recognizes the expression and smiles privately. “I ought to have known. You and Uncle Christian will want to stay until daybreak, won’t you?”

“Certainly.” Aunt Joan quips, appraising herself in her vanity mirror. “Her cook makes the most divine fruit crepes.”

You could point out that her usual overt piety discourages desire and gluttony, but at near seventy years of age, your great-aunt has earned a little indulgence from life. Instead you hum a non-committal agreement and pick up your gloves., “Then it will be well worth staying until breakfast,” you encourage, offering her a smile instead.

“Indeed.” She seems most pleased at the prospect and shoes your maids away with finality. “Your dance card must be full tonight, child,” she warns with an alarming hint of mischief in her voice. “If we want you engaged before the worst of winter snows threaten to keep us all at home.”

* * * * * *

The McMichael’s ballroom shimmers with candlelight and each guest who is announced at the door is another jewel in the crown of the evening. Mrs. McMichaels flits about like a bird with a rare and precious seed, showing it off to everyone around her, and the guests who have eagerly arrived first bask in the shared glow of witnessing such good fortune. Fortunately, very certainly it is a fortunate thing, your Aunt Joan and Uncle Christian do not believe in arriving early to parties. They believe in leaving their home at the time the party is listed as beginning in order to appear both desirably busy and aloof, which means that your trio is squarely in the second half of arrivals to the McMichael house this evening. Even if it is only by a measure of twenty or thirty minutes, the less time you must spend with eligible men being foisted upon you, the better.

“Mr. and Mrs. Christian Tate,” are announced along with your name, and Aunt Joan practically shoves your out in front of them to make sure you’re seen. Not that anyone would have noticed you otherwise, so perhaps it’s wise. The peacock colored gown you chose shimmers softly in the gaslight, but the ballrooms of Buffalo do not have the large, expansive windows and glass doors that you are accustomed to in Newport. It is all mahogany and walnut paneling here, and all the ladies but you – in their pinks and creams and honey yellows – knew better. You will be lost in wainscotted corners in your deep blue, green, and purple hues. Though perhaps it is for the best. This is not your society anyway. You have no intention of ending your time in Buffalo engaged no matter what Aunt Joan might intend.

The two gentlemen at the center of the ballroom could not be anymore obviously father and son, but where the father jokes and jovially signs dance cards at praise of his skills in the country dances, the son seems dour and aloof. His pinched smile does not precisely forbid conversation but it certainly does not encourage it, and he all but sighs in resignation when your Uncle Christian seems happy to see him.

“My wife’s great-niece,” you hear him saying, just before you are shuttled forward again. “Visiting from Newport for the holidays.”

“A pleasure,” the man intones, though you cannot think he means it.

“Is it?” You offer your hand only because your aunt clears her throat so pointedly. But it is at this point that the skyscraper with blonde hair you are being introduced to chuckles. The sound is broken but warm, and you are not so displeased with being here that you miss the way his blue eyes sparkle like aquamarine in the flickering light.

“Perhaps,” he muses, catching the dance card dangling from your wrist before you can take your hand back. “Perhaps you are the first young lady to arrive tonight not to simper and curtsy over the supposed honor of being my mother’s guest. And perhaps I can recognize a fellow soul was was strong-armed into attending.” He looks tired, the heaviness of it hanging deep in his handsome features. Because yes, he is handsome. Intriguingly and admirably so. But that isn’t what is drawing you in to him like a rope tied into your ribcage that tugs you forward whenever he speaks. It’s something else. “Perhaps we will be allies tonight, you and I.”

“Allies?” You watch his hand as he claims both waltzes on your dance card, the first gentleman to do so and claiming what are arguably the most intimate of dances. “How terribly Napoleonic of you,” you droll in response.

He laughs again, a little more deeply, and shrugs his shoulders. “I would avoid the elder Mr. Davies if I were you,” he advises, clearly demonstrating his intent as that very ally he has claimed to be. “His wife passed last spring leaving him with three young children. He has become so desperate for a wife that he is inclined to propose to almost any new young lady he meets.”

“How very concerning for the young ladies.” You murmur back, glancing over at the man being subtly pointed out to you. He is squirrelish and balding, all the hair on his head seeming to have fallen to the bushy mustache adorning his upper lip. “Is there anyone else I ought to be wary of?”

“Oh, a dozen at least.” The mischief returns to this man-shaped mountain’s eyes and he offers you his arm. “It is well worth discussing. Perhaps over punch?”

“Mr. McMichael, I think you are using me as an excuse to abandon the receiving line.” You hum in amusement, not really able to say you blame him for such a thing. Or that you mind.

“Perhaps.” His grin has a shade of mischief and guilt to it. “But perhaps you are using me to avoid the attention of other guests who might bore, annoy, or otherwise rankle you, or even step on your shoes. Which I’m sure are quite beautiful and not to be defiled. This arrangement seems better for us both, don’t you think? I can promise you with surety that it has been more than a decade since I trod on a lady’s slipper at a ball.”

“I had intended to feign lightheadedness from the crowded ballroom halfway through the night,” you confess with a sly expression all your own. “Perhaps I still will. Or perhaps this mischief will prove diversion enough all on its own.”

* * * * * *

There have been many dances in your life that have made you terribly glad for the barrier of gloves between you and the man leading. Whether it was their manners that were unsuitable, the sweat of their palms, or some unsavory odor lingering around them like a drought-stricken pond, there seemed always to be some partners with whom dancing was as undesirable as an overturned stagecoach.

Tonight you fear it might be you.

Dr. McMichael — Alan, he has insisted that you call him Alan — is a divine dancer. The grandeur of his stature does nothing to inhibit his grace and as he twirls you both about the ballroom you have the oddest sensation of floating that has ever been. But as if grace and poise were not enough, the man has a damning and wicked sense of humour as well. It has taken only the smallest encouragement from you to earn you scathing reviews of the other partygoers from you. The descriptions have you nearly in hysterics in his arms, but worse yet is the way that he smiles. It is a sly and puckish expression that makes his eyes light and sparkle in the candlelight, and every time he aims it at you, you can feel yourself sweat in the most unbecoming and unladylike way.

Moist palms or a damp dress back do not make for a desirable partner, and all you can do is hope desperately that your gloves and corset are providing ample barrier so that he has no idea how deeply those smiles and jokes and bright eyes are affecting you.

“I must sound deeply cynical,” he comments after a pause. He has just told you the story of the two Misses Shrewsbury and their positively ghastly attempt at conning the attendants of a seance he attended in Albany some years ago. “I am not. Or at least I do not mean to be.”

“Is it society that you disapprove of? Or faith?” Neither question is a judgment on your part, but you tilt your head to him conspiratorially as you dance. “I have found myself weary of both in the past, that is why I ask.”

“It is neither,” Alan admits, though he does so with a wistful sigh. “I think perhaps I yearn for times past when I reveled in dancing and philosophical pursuits. When the contents of conversation at a dinner party provided fascination for days afterward.” Subtly, so that you can feel it but it is not seen to the plain-eyes observer, he shrugs. “Life soldiers on, I suppose.”

“It does.” You cannot dispute that, and you would not try. You know the trudging on of time as well as any other touched by tragedy. “May I ask what changed? Or is that impertinent?”

“It is not impertinent.” He casts his eye around the room then back down at you. “But I am afraid it is not polite, either. I would not shock you so, to tell it all. I will only say that I lost my dear friend very recently.”

“Then I am very sorry to hear it, but I have every belief in your humanity. Your taste for society, your faith, and your fascinations will return.” The look on his face says he wonders how you can be so sure, and you half-smile. The hint of sadness in your eyes keeps it from becoming full. “Take the word of an orphan of two beloved parents, Dr. McMichael. You will come back to life again after the loss of your friend. It may simply take time.”

“Alan,” he presses softly, reminding you of his insistence. “And I am sorry to hear of your sadness, as well. But it seems that perhaps God or the ghosts of our past have seen fit to introduce us tonight. Whichever it is that you believe in.”

“Whichever it is, I welcome their intervention.” It seems to you at this point that he does not care much for spiritualism or ghosts of any kind, so you will not speak your mind on that topic. As for God? His guidance has not been the one you sought in many years. No, tonight you will not give credence to any of it, if only to keep the mood light and perhaps make Alan laugh again. “I think, however, that I shall ascribe it entirely to my great-uncle. As he was the one to see us introduced.”

“So he was.” As the song ends, Alan bows quite deeply in deference to his admirable partner. “I believe I shall have to thank him for it.”

* * * * * *

“Why don’t I know the girl your son has been doting on all night?” Mrs. McMichael is behind her fan to her husband from the edge of the dance floor, inspecting the dancing and overseeing the needs of all her guests. Her guests. Which is why she is so perturbed not to be able to identify this young woman immediately. “Who is her family? She must be with one of your business associates, yes?”

“Let Alan flirt.” Edwin McMichael waves one hand dismissively, not even looking in his only son’s direction. “It’s good for him. He’s been too dour for too long.”

“I don’t care if he flirts.” Ellen ruffles, her lips pursed and ready for an argument. “So long as he flirts with the correct young ladies.”

“How do you know she is not correct?”

“Because I do not know who she is or who she came with.”

“She is Christian Tate’s great-niece.”

Ellen’s nose wrinkles. “The orphan?”

“The orphan with an eight million dollar inheritance and a palatial cottage in Newport in her name.” Mr. McMichael raises one eyebrow as he peers down at his wife, knowing precisely the sort of affect this news will have on his wife. After all, she married him for his fortune — why should Alan not marry a fortune as well? “Let Alan flirt. It makes him smile.”

* * *

He finds you again later, outside of the ballroom when you’ve wandered away to breath air that hasn’t come from the mouths of five other people first and doesn’t smell distinctly of stale cigars and brandy. He finds you when you are slumped, unladylike, in the window seat of his father’s library gazing out the window at the snow as it drifts lazily down from the pitch-black sky.

“I thought you’d run away on me.” His voice is light but the undercurrent of worry, or else embedded sadness, is there if you listen. Like a weariness that had taken hold in him sometime since the loss of his friend that he had not been able to shake. Rather than apologizing for it or paying it any mind, Alan simply holds out one of the delicate cups of mulled wine that he brought with him when he went in search of you. “I’m very glad to see that isn’t the case.”

“I had to make myself scarce from the quadrille,” you admit, having the good sense to look at least a little sheepish about it. “That Mr. Davies…the one you warned me about? He caught sight of the fact that I had been left out of the dance before and attached himself to me.” Though the conversation could not be considered so terrible to be characterized as harrowing or torturous or anything as dramatic as all that, you still had not enjoyed his overbearing presence and unfortunate lack of manners. “I’m afraid that I feigned a headache to excuse myself.”

He laughs. Truly and thoroughly, and from his belly. Alan McMichael laughs so entirely that you bury your face in one hand after you accept the offered drink from his hand and you sigh audibly. “I’m sorry…” he chuckles, gasping for a dramatic sigh when he can catch his breath. “ It’s just that you’re so terribly apologetic and sweet about it. No one would be cross with you for avoiding an impertinent man old enough to be your father.”

“I see you have not met my Aunt Joan.” With a dutiful but resigned sigh, you stand from your place of respite and sip the rather delicious drink that he has brought you. At precisely 4:02 in the morning it is both horrifyingly too late for such a drink and far too terribly early – a dichotomy that delights you. “She has done her best to see me partnered with every single man here tonight. It is only my ill luck that I encountered the only desirable partner so early in the night. To dance together a third time would expose us both to comment.”

“So?” Alan sips his own wine and gazes down at you curiously, wondering whether or not you actually give a damn about all of this convention and these rules that seem to have been mutually agreed upon by the same people who determined what food is served at each course at formal suppers. That is – someone very long ago and far away that no one can remember any longer. “I’d like to dance with you again. And you just said that you’d like to dance with me. So who gives a damn if someone talks about it?”

“Won’t your mother be cross with you?” He had said something earlier about his mother wanting him to dance with just every young lady at the ball tonight. And you know for certain that he has not just as you have not danced with every single man.

“My mother is routinely cross with me.” He admits, enjoying a laugh at the truth of it. “I try not to let it disappointment me too much.”

It is all you can do to consider him – broad shoulders stretching that jacket of his and bright eyes sparkling with mischief, the tilt of his smile and the invitation of his outstretched hand – before you are sighing in a rather dramatic show of resignation that barely shields the actual delight written on your face. “Very well,” you acquiesce, taking his hand and giving his fingers a gentle squeeze. “Let us be the object of idle gossip tomorrow. Let tongues wag. I will be gone in a week anyhow and that will be the end of it. For tonight, at least, we shall have a bit of fun.”

______

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#Charlie Hunnam #Charlie Hunnam character fanfiction #Charlie Hunnam fanfic #Alan McMichael #Alan McMichael x you #Alan McMichael x reader #Alan McMichael x female reader #Alan McMichael x f!reader #Crimson Peak #period romance #just some flirts #I don't even know what I'm doing

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free-for-all-fics · 10 months

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Charlie Hunnam Character Prompts! This list includes: Alan McMichael, King Arthur, Raymond Smith, and Will “Ironhead” Miller. Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of the ideas presented here. I’d love to read it! 💜

1. After the events of Crimson Peak, Edith and Alan eventually marry. Edith gives birth to a daughter (whether the baby is Alan’s, or Thomas’ from his and Edith’s night in the depot is up to you.) Their daughter inherits the ability to see ghosts just like her mother and grandmother before her.

2. You’re Thomas and Lucille’s daughter but you don’t know. You’ve been raised to believe you’re their sister. Due to the nature of your birth and years spent growing up in the darkness of Allerdale Hall, your eyes have a strong sensitivity to light. You’re in your 20s when Thomas takes you to an optician in New York while he’s courting Edith. Maybe an American doctor will have something to help you that the English doctors back home don’t. You meet Alan, who gives you an eye exam. He helps you when your eyes are giving you trouble by prescribing you a special type of eyeglasses and sunglasses so you can go outside for longer periods of time. He also prescribes you eyedrops/medications and recommends using a parasol for shade while you’re out on walks. Over time, his prescription notes become love notes.

3. You’re the youngest Sharpe and are much more petite than the average woman, standing only at about 4’9. Thomas assures you it’s not your fault, it’s just how you were born. You also attribute your small stature to the lack of necessary sunshine and fresh air from your years growing up confined to the shadows of Allerdale Hall. Your brother rarely let you leave the grounds while you were a child, afraid you’d get sick and your immune system would be too weak to fight off any infection. You’d never gone past the front yard before. Now an adult, you fall in love with Alan McMichael while Thomas is courting Edith. He dances with you at balls, sends you secret love letters, etc. When Thomas discovers these letters, he takes them and locks you in your bedroom. Your attempts to stop him or slow him down do nothing to deter him. Despite your protests and pleas to be let out and for him to give Alan’s letters back, he instead hides them where Lucille wouldn’t find them. You don’t realize he’s locked you in to protect you from her. When Alan comes to Allerdale Hall to rescue Edith, he wants to take you away too and demands to know where you are. During the confrontation, you escape. It’s because of Alan that you discover your true lineage: Your siblings are actually your parents and you’re the product of incest. You’re helpless and horrified when Lucille stabs Alan. You try to run to him, but she holds you back while Thomas stabs him too.

You believe him to be dead until Lucille takes Edith away to sign the papers and Thomas urges you to help him get Alan downstairs, quickly. He’s still alive and your tears of mourning turn into tears of relief. There’s no time for explanations, but Thomas begs your forgiveness and tells you he loves you. While he’s not proud of the act he and Lucille did, he wants you to know you were never a mistake. He gives you a goodbye kiss on the forehead before he rushes to help Edith. While you keep him stable, Alan reveals that, before he was stabbed, Thomas gave him his blessing to marry you. He whispered it so low so Lucille wouldn’t hear. After leaving Crimson Peak, you later wed. Neither of you care about Mrs. McMichael’s snide remarks or disapproval of you. But when you come to be with child, you’re afraid for their health. You worry that your body is too small to safely carry to term, or that your lineage means any children you have are at risk for birth defects. Alan soothes your fears and assures you that you’re strong and capable. No matter what, he will love his child. If they are born anything but healthy, you and he will find a way to still give them the best life possible. You’ll devote your lives to their happiness.

4. Alan McMichael meets you, a woman who has Heterochromia. As an eye doctor, he wants to study this rare eye condition but over time, he gets to know you and falls in love with you. You help him with his studies on the subject and tell him about your life, from your genetic history all the way to the hardships you’ve faced for being different from everybody else. You tell him how you used to wear sunglasses all the time to hide your eyes out of shame. But you’re not ashamed anymore, and Alan further compliments them. The eyes are generally considered the most beautiful feature of the human body and your eyes are no exception. They’re unique, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.

5. Haunting of Hill House crossover AU (the novel, not the show): You’re Hugh Crain’s youngest daughter and the only family member who survived the hauntings of Hill House. While you grew up on the grounds, no corner of your house was safe. Your mother was killed in the drive up before the house’s completion, leaving you and your older sisters to be raised by a governess. Every room had its haunts. Even the outside garden was haunted by ghosts having picnics. Your eldest sister, Sophia, was given a disturbing monograph on morality from your father, signed in his own blood. As you grew older, you started to feel uneasy around your overbearing father and grew concerned about his intentions with Sophia. Though he was physically absent and often away in Europe with his new wife, you still felt the weight of his presence everywhere within the walls, along with the ghosts. It frightened you. You left Hill House when you turned 18 and never came back, though you missed your sisters dearly and kept writing them letters. You settled in New York, where you met and later married Alan McMichael, a handsome eye doctor. When he shows you his interest in ghost sightings through photography, you’re worried for his safety, still traumatized from your past experiences. You have yet to tell him the full story about Hill House.

Your middle sister sometimes visited with her husband, and you were saddened at her and Sophia’s falling out over the inheritance of the house. No matter how much you urged your eldest sister to leave Hill House, you knew she’d never visit. Sophia later died alone and you were devastated at the news of her death. Alan did his best to console you at her funeral. Your mourning was exacerbated when your middle sister died while trying to move some furniture and dishes out of the house, mere months after Sophia’s funeral. The coroner said she slipped and fell down the stairs, but you knew better. When Alan’s friend, Edith, marries Thomas Sharpe and moves into Allerdale Hall, you come with to help her settle in. But you realize immediately that Allerdale Hall is haunted, in eerily similar ways to how Hill House is. She confides in you about her ability to see ghosts and you do what you can to protect her and keep her safe since you couldn’t do the same for your beloved sisters. But you can’t stay in the house forever, so you go to Alan for help. You finally sit him down and confide in him everything about your experiences at Hill House. You urge him that Edith is now in great danger and needs both his help and yours before it’s too late.

6. You’re Eunice’s best friend and fall in love with her brother, Alan, when he meets you while attending medical school. Neither of you make the connection right away. After all, there’s tons of women named Eunice and you and Alan hadn’t seen each other since you were children. Uh oh when he takes you to meet his family and you realize you’re in love with your best friend’s brother.

7. You’re a mermaid-like creature in Camelot but unlike the Syrens, your magic isn’t dark and you don’t serve Vortigern. You stayed in hiding during his tyrannical reign, since you’re similar to a Ceasg and knew he’d abuse your magic. After Vortigern’s death and the destruction of the tower, the Syrens ventured back out to the deeper waters of the vast sea. You’re captured by Arthur’s men, mistaken for a Syren after saving the new King’s life by kissing him and granting him the ability to breathe underwater for a time. His knights mistook your actions and thought you were trying to eat their friend. You’re kept in the King’s bedchamber, in a large glass container full of water that has enough room to swim around in, but acts as your cage. Arthur interrogates you, asking you all sorts of questions about yourself, where you come from, your connection to the Syrens that served his uncle, etc. But over time, his questions become softer and he talks to you with a spirit similar to that of a young boy who just discovered fairytales are real. He and you fall in love. You use your magic to grant Arthur’s wishes, even if he unknowingly makes them. It takes him a while to realize what’s happening and that his wishes coming true is your doing.

One night, the door above your tank is left unlocked after you’re fed. You pull yourself out and crawl towards Arthur while he sleeps in his bed of furs. You’re so curious about the anatomy of humans and always wanted to see one up close. As you crawl on top of him to touch his face and play with his golden hair, Arthur responds as if in a dream and leans up to kiss you. When he jolts awake and realizes what he’s doing, he lets you touch and admire him, but only for a short while before he carries you back to your tank. He doesn’t want you to dry out. But you keep a firm hold on his hand and encourage him to join you, telling him you want to explore his body further. He relents and you make love under the water. Someone later tries to kidnap you and steal you away for their own greed, and your tank shatters. You flail around like a fish out of water before your tail dries and turns to legs. After he rescues you, Arthur gives you back your freedom. But instead you choose to stay and serve him as your King. Unlike Syrens, You don’t demand blood or human sacrifices. You simply ask for Arthur’s heart, his love, and he gives it to you. He makes you his Queen, as unconventional as his choice in a bride may be. There’s no other he wants for his wife.

8. Pirates of the Caribbean-esque AU: You’re a mermaid/siren but you’re a good natured one that isn’t bloodthirsty or man-eating like your sisters. Arthur captures you and holds you prisoner after he thinks you tried to kill him. He keeps you in a large tank in his private bedchamber because he needs a mermaid’s/siren’s magic to help him in a quest for something. But then you and he start bonding and developing romantic feelings for each other, especially when he realizes you actually saved his life that day you met and weren’t trying to kill him at all. Despite being kept in a tank full of seawater, you become very sick because you’ve been away from the actual sea for too long. Your skin and tail become ashy, your hair loses its luster, the sparkle in your eyes dims. Arthur grows so worried and remorseful for his mistreatment of you that he sets you free, returning you to the ocean where you belong. You wave to him as you swim away and he waves back with stray tears in his eyes.

He doesn’t see you for so long that he thinks you’re gone forever. But then you show up again while he’s sailing out at sea, swimming along the side of his ship and you’re mistaken for a large fish. He’s surprised to see you when you climb over the side and hold yourself up on the railing. He’s left speechless when you reveal you’ve brought him the treasure he sought after in the first place. It wasn’t easy to find, that’s why you were gone so long. You never planned on abandoning him. You kiss him and tell him a secret: If a mortal wins the heart of a merfolk, that merfolk is granted the ability to walk on land when their tail is dry. And a mortal fortunate enough to receive the kiss of a merfolk is granted the ability to breathe underwater. You show Arthur he’s earned your love when your beautiful shimmering tail dries and becomes human legs. He quickly finds you some clothes and asks you to stay with him as his bride and be his Queen. You accept, but tell him you’ll have to return to the sea for short periods of time periodically to stay healthy. When the King and Queen are both missing from the palace, it’s safe to say they’re out swimming.

9. You’re Arthur’s Queen and are once again with child after many failed attempts. You’ve been able to get pregnant before, but the trouble has been keeping it. You’ve suffered many miscarriages so early on that sometimes you wouldn’t even bother telling your husband you were with child, too afraid you’d get his hopes up only to lose it. This put an emotional and mental toll on both you and Arthur. This is the farthest you’ve carried in any pregnancy, so Arthur is especially protective and doting, making sure you have the best of healers. Naturally, everyone in the kingdom hopes the firstborn will be a boy to carry his father’s legacy. Arthur assures you he just wants a healthy wife and child. The birth itself is difficult and you nearly die trying to bring your baby into the world. There’s so much blood. Arthur is terrified but refuses to leave your side. This is his castle, his wife, and his child. So he’s going to hold your hand and caress your hair through it all, even if it takes hours. He encourages you and tells you you’re the strongest woman he knows. When the babe is born, it’s a girl. You’re afraid you’ve disappointed the kingdom and your husband, but Arthur is overjoyed at the arrival of his little princess. She is his heir and he loves both her and you unconditionally. A huge celebration is in order. But first, you must rest and recover.

10. Ever after AU: Your stepmother works you like a servant for years following your father’s death, while plotting and scheming to get her own spoiled and selfish daughter on the throne. You pretend to be a courtier to save a man’s life, inadvertently catching the eye of King Arthur. He keeps pursuing you despite all your attempts to evade him, so you give him your deceased mother’s name when he pushes for yours. You didn’t think you’d see him again, but fate has you crossing paths and meeting in secret. A romance eventually blossoms. You show him you’re a country girl at heart with a strong spirit, not afraid to get dirty, climb trees, use a blade, etc. You want more than anything to tell Arthur the truth of who you are, but keep losing your courage at the last moment. He’s just so wonderful and you love him so much, you don’t want to hurt him with your deception. A masque ball is being held for the King to choose a bride so Camelot may finally have a Queen. Your stepmother lashes you for your insolence towards your stepsister after she tries to take your mother’s dress. She locks you in the cellar but you escape.

Your stepmother tries to sabotage you by assaulting you and exposing you as a fraud and devious little pretender in front of the entire royal court, but her scheme backfires terribly when Arthur reveals he doesn’t care about your status as a servant. He holds your hand as he tells your stepmother that she seems to have forgotten herself and must be unaware of his own background. He grew up in a brothel under the care of prostitutes. He loved those women like family and he rose up out of gutter in the village streets of Londinium through years of hard work and blood, sweat, and tears. He has your stepmother and terrible stepsister taken away to be dealt with later and announces you as his intended bride. That is, if you’ll have him. The decision is yours. Meanwhile, your other stepsister, who is much more gentle and kind hearted, has been in a blooming romance of her own: She’s falling in love with one of Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table. Upon your marriage and coronation, your stepsister is appointed your lady-in-waiting and becomes part of the royal court. On your wedding night, Arthur discovers the lashing marks on your back and is horrified. He’s so livid he would’ve sentenced your stepmother to death for daring to lay such a violent hand upon you, but you talk him down. He strips her of her title in front of the royal court and, at your behest, sentences her and your horrible stepsister to lifelong servitude. Neither you nor your other stepsister have spared a thought for your cruel stepmother or odious stepsister, too busy in your happy new lives.

11. You’re thrown overboard when the ship you’re traveling on gets stuck in a terrible and merciless thunderstorm. As you try to keep yourself above water, you hear voices shouting what you think is your name. Lightning cracks and starts a fire on the ship, but that’s all you remember as you hit your head and black out. You awaken on the shoreline, found by men who later reveal themselves as Knights of the Round Table. They take you to their King, Arthur. When you reveal you don’t remember anything but a shortened version of your name, Arthur takes it upon himself to look after you while you recover from your ordeal. At least until your memory returns or your family can be found. He has his knights work on locating your family while he shows you his castle, takes you on tours of Camelot, etc. Over time, your friendship turns into a romance. Little do either you or Arthur know, you’re actually a Viking Princess who was on voyage to Camelot to marry Arthur. The very same Viking Princess who is believed to be dead. Your arranged marriage was meant to strengthen an alliance between Norway and England in exchange for protection, resources, trade routes, weapons, etc. But your supposed death has created a new array of problems for Arthur as he’s tried to draft up a new agreement with your mourning mother and/or father, not realizing he has their amnesiac daughter right under his roof. What happens when the truth is revealed?

12. Arthur stumbles across a baby girl in a basket drifting in the water. This child was watched over and protected by the Lady of the Lake, who instructs Arthur to take you in and raise you as his daughter. He does so, and you grow up a Princess of Camelot. But as you grow, you show signs of possessing magic similar to that of mermaids, water nymphs, or fairies. You have unique abilities over controlling water and can even influence people when you sing. You may have the ability to breathe underwater or swim at incredible speeds. Your father still loves you and does what he can to help you control your powers, but he may need the help of the Mage to further teach you, since he’s just a human man who has no knowledge of your birth or who your natural parents were. The Lady of the Lake didn’t tell him much when she gave you to him.

13. You’re either Roz’s sister and Mickey’s sister-in-law, or you’re Mickey’s sister and Roz’s sister-in-law. The choice is up to you. Either way, you and Ray find yourselves in a high risk, high reward romance as you try to hide your affair from Roz and Mickey. Ray started off as your personal bodyguard and you’re worried they wouldn’t understand or would be against mixing love and business for whatever reason. You’d rather not see Ray get fired or killed, so you keep it secret. Ray also enjoys living too much to die just yet, thank you. But maybe Roz and Mickey wouldn’t be angry that you’ve kept secrets from them, just disappointed that you’d think so little of them. You’re Mickey and Roz’s sister (in-law) and they love you. Ray has been like family for years too, and there’s no better man for you than him. But maybe at the time you were just too scared and foolish to realize that they’d always have your back and support you no matter what.

14. You’re Ray’s wife. You used to be a journalist, but your articles caught the interest of an espionage agency. They gave you an interview under the guise of a publishing company and, during it, you noticed the organization's hidden cameras and microphones. You discovered the interview’s true purpose and passed the test. Your set of skills got you hired on the spot, and you built a career as one of the top spies in the organization. You’ve obtained valuable intel while infiltrating galas, fundraisers, house parties, board meetings, etc. But you promised Ray not to go on any more missions once you became pregnant. So you retire, or work from the safety of your own office at home instead of actively being out on the field. Despite both you and Ray laying low and taking as many precautions as possible to keep yourselves safe, somehow enemies of your agency or Mickey Pearson had discovered your location and/or connection to Ray. They sabotage your vehicle and set you up to get into a serious car accident in an attempt to eliminate you. They want to use your death to get to your husband and ultimately yours and/or his boss. Your body is gone from the crash scene, so you’re believed to be missing or dead.

What Ray doesn’t know until later is that Mickey pulled some strings to get you out of there and sent you to a high security hospital without the enemy agents knowing. You were swapped out with a body too damaged for recognition while the enemy agents were distracted by a diversion and they took it, believing it to be you. Ray is sent your coordinates from a burner phone and drives as fast as he can to get to you, scared half to death about you and your child. If either of you are hurt or dead, there will be hell to pay. There were rules to this game, one of the most important being to never go after wives or children. The people who targeted and attacked you will pay. Once Ray and Mickey are through with them, they’ll wish they had never been born. There are fates much worse than death, after all. But first, Ray needs to be the doting husband and take extra good care of you and his unborn child. You need him now more than ever.

15. Ocean’s 8/11/12-esque fic with Ray and you. The plot is up to you, just imagine an action packed heist with him.

16. Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU: You and your husband, Ray, had been attending marriage counseling since it was on the rocks for a while and divorce seemed imminent. You were working for rival agencies at the time and were each ordered to kill the other. But neither of you realized you were each other’s target because the names you’d been given on the slip of paper were aliases you and Ray used. You also wore masks or disguises to infiltrate places. Your rivalry had resulted in multiple massive shootouts or perfectly laid traps that you and Ray survived and got out of. One such shootout nearly destroyed your house and ended with you aiming at each other’s heads, but once the masks/disguises got knocked off and you each realized who you were trying to kill, you stopped and threw down your weapons. Ray told you he loved you and couldn’t kill you. You told him the same. You made love and reconciled, then teamed up instead. You became such a power couple that your employers sent other assassins after you both to finish the job. In present day, you and Ray hold hands and tell your marriage counselor that your careers are going great and your marriage is thriving.

17. You’re Ray’s neighbor and have no inkling about who he really is or what he does. He befriends you and invites you over to his house to cook dinner for you on occasion. You enjoy these cozy evenings where you help him in the kitchen, then relax on the couch and watch a movie by the fire. Or sometimes you just sit and talk, his arm laying over the back of the couch behind you. In the darkness of the room while the movie plays, you’ve shared fleeting kisses and Ray’s arm has moved to your shoulder so he can hold you close. Ray has never experienced this kind of romantic affection before since he’s been so focused on his work, but it feels nice with you. You’ve asked about his job, but he’s told you something mundane that’s just a cover. The less you know, the safer you’ll be. You don’t even know who Mickey Pearson is and Ray wants to keep it that way.

On one of these date nights, he finally takes you to bed. While you’re making love, you tell Ray you love him. In the wee hours of the morning, you crawl out from underneath him without waking him up and throw on one of his shirts. You climb down the stairs leading to the basement, either in search of a midnight snack or wanting to make breakfast since he made dinner the night before. You open the freezer, only to discover the body of Aslan. Ray is awoken by your screams and grabs his gun, afraid you’re hurt or there’s an intruder. You hear his footsteps rushing towards where you are as he calls your name. Oh god, what do you do? What happens now?

18. Something similar to that scene from The Godfather Part 2: You’re Ray’s wife (maybe you’re pregnant) and you’re in bed when you ask him to close the curtains. That’s when he notices the snipers and has you get down as gunfire destroys your bedroom. While you fall out of the bed with a cry, Ray crawls towards you and lays on top of you to shield you with his body. He asks if you’ve been hit, and you’re maybe hit in the shoulder or have a superficial graze. Either way, seeing your blood is enough to make Ray livid. He’s like Mickey in that he doesn’t give a damn about money but he is very emotional about how someone dared to target his home, his family! Attacked in his bedroom where his wife sleeps and where his children may play with their toys. The people who did this are not going unpunished, and Mickey would definitely help his friend and consigliere in getting retribution. Those people will wish they’d never been born once he and Mickey get to them. Death is too quick a mercy.

19. Threesome between Will, you and Catfish. That is all. That’s the prompt.

20. You’re Catfish’s sister who works as a makeup artist in Hollywood. Your brother got his pilot license suspended on a coke bust because he was covering for you. You were in deep shit and needed his help to get out, nearly in hysterics from all your panicking. He loves you so much he’d do anything to protect you. But you know how much Frankie loves to fly, so you feel immensely guilty for what happened. For both yours and your brother’s sake, you go into rehab. You’re finally ready to accept help for your drug addiction. In the past you fell in with Dieter Bravo, an Oscar-winning actor who you used to do makeup on for his movies. You’d talk for hours while he was in your chair, and eventually you started sleeping together and doing drugs with him. For a while it was just about sex and drugs, but then you fell in love with him and he with you. You saved Dieter from an OD and that was when he realized he loved you.

You had a lot of fun and good times with Dieter when you were fuck buddies and dating, but you also had a lot of bad times and rough patches. Eventually you and Dieter made the mutual decision to break things off amicably, but you’re still best friends to this day. You meet Will when he picks you up from rehab while your brother is busy with his new baby, and from there you become friends. The longer you stay clean, the more you and Will get to know each other and fall in love. Catfish and the guys are so proud of you, supportive in every step of your recovery. When you run into Dieter again, he’s excited to tell you about Anika and his own journey towards getting clean. You meet Anika and Dieter meets Will. You’re both so happy for each other and how your lives have turned around for the better.

#charlie hunnam character fanfiction #charlie hunnam characters #charlie hunnam #alan mcmichael x reader #will ironhead miller x reader #will miller x reader #raymond smith x reader #ray smith x reader #king arthur x reader #random fic ideas #fic ideas #random prompts #fic prompts #pls tag me if you write any of these #i’d love to read it

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ladyxskywalker · 2 years

Text

July 2022 (part two)

fandoms featured on this list; moon knight, pedro pascal characters, the batman, the amazing spider man, bridgerton, oscar isaac, charlie hunnam, the originals / tvd, & misc./multi fandom 💫

thank you to the amazing fic writers for sharing some wonderful stories with all of us ! & to the kind readers for their support. 💙

please assume that all works & the blogs they belong to are 18+ only

mature adult content will be marked with a double asterisk **

be sure to check all warnings & tags before reading, feel free to skip if something isn't for you

& of course, enjoy responsibly

all the love xo A ☕

✨️ apologies for this month’s list being a little shorter than usual ! I had some things going on, so some of these are comfort reads, & repeats that I’ve read again, new things I’ve read, or various series that I’ve started. hope you enjoy ! & happy reading ! 🤗

please send me things to read ! favorite fics or something you've written that you're proud of ! 💌

find more monthly fic recs over on my masterlist, Aug 2022 coming soon ! ✨

please let me know if you would like to be removed

✨ new authors & characters added for the first time !

✨ some authors are mentioned more than once throughout the list, check to see if your works are there !

MOON KNIGHT

✨ Jake Lockley

Six Stops by @lcvenderblues (gn!reader)

Love in Bloom, & Sunday Kind of Love by @egcdeath

✨ Marc Spector

Happy Birthday by @writingforcurrentobsessions

✨ Steven Grant

Spirals And Skin by @clints-lucky-arrow (artist!steven) (tattooed!f!reader) **

Tilt, Shift, & Balance by @the-little-ewok (steven x f!reader, marc x f!reader) **

Who Wouldn’t Want That? & Darling, I Fancy You by @yespolkadotkitty (f!reader)

PEDRO PASCAL

✨ Ezra (Prospect)

Clarity by @ezrasbirdie (dentist!ezra universe) (f!reader) **

Daze by @iamskyereads (slice of life) (domestic ezra universe) (prof!f!reader) (cw: children) **

In the Dark (series) by @frannyzooey (cw: age gap) (f!reader) **

Where the Foxglove Grows by @mandoblowmybackout (plus size, neurodivergent, f!reader)

✨ Jack (Agent Whiskey) Daniels

Tangled Up (series) by @writeforfandoms (dragon rancher au) (f!reader)

✨ Marcus Pike

Desperado by @writeforfandoms (f!reader)

Starting Over (series) by @wardenparker , & @absurdthirst (f!reader) (cw: pregnancy, divorce)

✨ Oberyn Martell

Yes, I do? by @toomanystoriessolittletime (modern au) (escort!oberyn) (f!reader)

✨ Pero Tovar

Full Moon Confessions by @artemiseamoon (f!reader)

Risk by @forever-rogue (f!reader) (cw: pregnancy mention) **

✨ The Thief (Casillero del Diablo)

The Painting by @forever-rogue (f!reader)

✨ Misc. Pedro Pascal Characters

Euclidean Geometry by @leslie-lyman (modern au) (poly!relationship) (f!reader) **

How Did You Love (series) by @writeforfandoms (f!reader)

MISC./MULTI FANDOM

✨ Alfred Pennyworth (The Batman)

Penny For Your Thoughts (series) by @eupheme (cw: age gap, daddy kink) (f!reader) **

✨ The Amazing Spider Man (Andrew Garfield)

Approach Shift (series) by @psithurista (f!reader) **

Beautiful Distraction by @flightlessangelwings (gn!reader) **

✨ Bridgerton (Benedict Bridgerton)

Truth Unseen by @make-me-imagine (gn!reader)

✨ Bud Cooper (Oscar Isaac, Suburbicon 2017)

A Softer Side by @leiakenobi (f!reader) **

✨ Clash of the Titans (Draco, Mads Mikkelsen)

Of Gods and Men (series) by @KrystalFlare on fanfiction.net (draco x goddess oc) **

✨ Cobra Kai (Johnny Lawrence)

Challenger by @SecretSecret on ao3 (f!reader) **

✨ Duke Leto Atreides (Oscar Isaac, Dune)

The Sun on Your Skin by @writefightandflightclub (gn!reader) (touch starved reader)

✨ Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

Safe With You by @flightlessangelwings (f!reader)

Under the Cherry Blossom Trees by @flightlessangelwings (fluff, angst) (gn!reader)

✨ John Watson (Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows)

The Doctor Is In by @cinewhore (black!f!reader) **

✨ The Originals / The Vampire Diaries

An Act That Brought You Joy (series) by @Merontheshore on ao3 (elena gilbert x klaus mikaelson, elena x elijah mikaelson, elena x kol mikaelson) **

The Artist (series) (a choose your own outcome story) by @brittishmenorbust on ao3 (f!reader)

Bienvenue (series) by @Merontheshore on ao3 (klaus mikaelson x ofc) (kol mikaelson x ofc) (elijah mikaelson & ofc) **

Endlessly Enough (series) by @brittishmenorbust on ao3 (damon salvatore x f!reader)

Labyrinth: A Bonnie Bennett x Klaus centric universe (series) by @artemiseamoon (bonnie bennett x klaus mikaleson) **

✨ Raymond Smith (Charlie Hunnam, The Gentlemen)

Right Hand Woman by @autumnleaves1991-blog (f!reader) **

✨ Rick Flag (DC, Joel Kinnaman)

Motivation by @loverhymeswith (f!reader)

✨ Roswell New Mexico (2019) (Alex Manes x Micheal Guerin)

here everyone knows (you’re the way to my heart) by @catchingpapermoons on ao3 (malex) **

** be sure to check out part one for star wars, the mandalorian, kenobi, rogue one, & triple frontier fic recs 📖

#moon knight fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #tasm fanfiction #dune fanfiction #the originals fanfiction #oscar isaac character fanfiction #charlie hunnam character fanfiction #misc. multi fandom #pxk monthly fic recs 💫#pxk monthly reading list 💌

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hopeamarsu · 2 years

Text

Masterlist

Adam Driver characters

Pedro Pascal characters

Misc characters

Series and challenges

Original stuff

#my writing #adcu #ppcu #adam driver character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #charlie hunnam character fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #hopeamarsu #masterlist #masterlist post

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artemiseamoon · 2 years

Note

🌹

Hey :) ok I picked something Charlie H since we love him. This is a snippet from a fic I’ve been chipping away at slowly. It takes place in the Jungleland setting.

The sentence:

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun. Lion will win, easy, then we’ll be set. The exact kind of money we need for our spectacular goals.”

A little more for the curious…

The fries didn’t taste like much, but she continues to eat them anyway. The song playing in the background is some generic diner song she’s heard a million times but doesn’t know the name.

Stan leaned over the table, his blue eyes fixed intensely on her as he flashed a charming smile. “We’re heading out west, come with us.”

Jordan quirked a brow. Adventures with Stan go one of two ways; fun or a disaster. There was no inbetween. Jordans experienced both ends, knowing him for as long as she has, and previously dating him. Twice.

“Whose car is that?” She glanced out the window.

“Mine.” Stan replied, there’s a hint of something in his voice, like she asked him a silly question.

“Okay, sure.” Jordan shakes her head. Who knows where Stan got that car, but she wasn’t going to ask. Her eyes traveled to Lion, her smile drops. He looks exhausted. His head is still lowered and he has a black eye. “Stan dragging you along for this?”

Lion looked up at her. “It’s a tournamen-”

“Oh come on Jay, it’ll be fun. Lion will win, easy, then we’ll be set. The exact kind of money we need for our spectacular goals.”

Jordan sat back and crossed her arms, “spectacular goals?”

Send me a 🌹and I’ll share a sentence (or more) of a sip

#Stan jungleland #jungleland #jungleland wip #Stan kaminski #charlie hunnam character fanfiction

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pedroscurls · 1 month

Text

chance encounters | pt. 1

character(s): Benny Miller, fem!Reader, (very) brief cameos from the rest of the Triple Frontier boys at the end summary: You've lost your way after losing your best friend in a tragic car accident. So, you go back to the one sport that makes you feel closer to him. word count: 1.9k a/n: This story is very personal to me and pulled from some real-life experiences (maybe not exactly, but still). I know I said I wouldn't write anything within this time period with April being such a very emotional month for me, but I've found that this story is actually helping me through my grief. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading 🫶 warnings: very brief mentions of grief (which will be a reoccurring warning) series masterlist | ultimate masterlist

“Benny Miller. I’m the owner and potentially, your coach,” the man says with a charming smile. He’s tall, broad, built, and you can’t help but notice his deep blue eyes. There’s a sense of comfort that you feel when you look at him. He’s dressed in red shorts and a white t-shirt with a dark cap placed backwards on his head and you can see the dark blonde curls peeking out from underneath it. “Welcome to Miller MMA Gym.”

“Hi,” you finally respond, saying your name to introduce yourself. Your hand grips the strap of your duffle bag that was placed over your shoulder. You feel slightly out of your element even though this is your comfort zone. Fighting is your comfort zone.

“Nice to meet you. Let me give you a tour of the gym and then we can sit down and go over your goals and everything else. Sound good?”

“That sounds good,” you repeat. “Thanks.”

Benny spends the next twenty minutes giving you a tour of his gym and you can tell just from the sound of his voice that he loves this sport and he has put a lot of thought into creating a gym where he can share with other like minded people. There are black mats in the entirety of the building with thick, red outlines at the edges. There are about seven heavy bags lined up along the wall with an octagon cage towards the back of the building. The gym is small, cozy, and it makes you feel like it’s a place where you belong.

“This is a really nice gym you got, Benny.”

“I know it’s not as big as other MMA gyms. We don’t have all the fancy equipment, the extra free weights, but I like that it’s small. Plus, I don’t just let anyone train here.”

“Oh?” you ask, brow arching. “So, I’m guessing this is a bit like a consultation?”

Benny nods. “I want to make sure we’re a good fit. This sport…” he sighs. “I want people who are dedicated, who will push themselves to the limit, you know? I don’t want to waste your time and I certainly don’t want you to waste mine.”

“Makes sense,” you agree.

He removes his sandals and steps onto the mat. You follow him and set your duffle bag down, your feet touching the cushioned mats and your gently bounce on your toes before you sit down in front of him.

“How long have you trained for?”

“Never actually had a coach or joined a gym like this, if I’m being honest. My best friend,” you sigh shakily. “He used to fight, was an amateur though. He taught me everything I know and always encouraged me to pick up the sport too.”

“So, what changed?”

“He died.”

Benny offers you a solemn look. He bites the inside of his cheek and nods. He knows grief all too well and he had known the minute you stepped into his gym that there was something lingering within you, something that you wanted to keep hidden. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. You had grown tired of hearing that. Why would they be sorry? What could they even do about it? It simply frustrated you. “Anyway, fighting’s always been something I felt comfortable doing and I don’t want to join an MMA gym where it’s all ego and trying to one-up one another.”

“I’m glad you said that,” Benny adds. “I’ve been to gyms like that and I fuckin’ hate it. I mean, we’re all there because we love the same sport. It can get competitive and sparring can get really bad… Which is why I like doing these consultations before even making a commitment with someone. I don’t want my gym to be like those.”

You nod, the corner of your lips lifting only slightly, but as quickly as it rose, it drops. You always had to catch yourself whenever you felt an ounce of happiness or relief. It didn’t feel fair. It didn’t feel right to be happy when your best friend was gone.

“Well, I want to fight, Benny. Competitively. I don’t know if I can even make it, but I want to try. Fighting is where I feel most at home.”

Benny smiles. You see his blue eyes light up. Then, he reaches his hand back out to you. “Well then, welcome aboard. I’d love to have you, and I’d love to train you and be your coach.”

The happiness flutters in your stomach and you force yourself to ignore it. You don’t smile at him, but your eyes - your eyes have always been so expressive. Your eyes soften when you look up at him, tears threatening to spill over, and you reach out to shake his hand. “I’d love that, Coach.”

“Welcome to the team,” he grins. “Let’s see what you got.”

—

An hour and a half later and you’re dripping with sweat. You’re leaning back against one corner of the octagon, knees close to your chest as you rest your arms over them, trying to catch your breath. Benny didn’t waste any time assessing your abilities, but you welcomed the distraction and for the last hour and a half, you hadn’t thought about your best friend.

“We got one more round,” Benny calls out. “Get back up, let’s go.”

You let out a deep breath and nod, standing. You shake your arms to loosen them, feeling the fatigue slowly begin to settle in. You glance at the time and see it begin to count down. Once the round begins, the sound of a buzzer filters the small gym and immediately, you bring your hands to cover your face, standing in an orthodox fighter’s stance.

Benny holds out the pads and calls out the following combinations:

Left jab, cross, left hook!

Double jab, cross!

Right front kick, double left round kick!

Throughout the round, you’re moving in the cage, staying light on your feet and never crossing them. You don’t even notice the way Benny’s smiling down at you, so proudly and full of hope.

“Alright, thirty seconds left!” Benny calls out. He notices how locked in you are, how focused, and he hasn’t seen someone as motivated in a first session as you. It gives him hope that you’re actually serious about competing.

Left jab, right body kick!

1-2 punch, left hook, right body kick!

Again!

By the time the round ends and the buzzer fills your ears, you’re breathing heavily, sweat dripping down your temples and the sides of your neck.

“Holy shit,” Benny chuckles. “You’re amazing.”

“My stamina is shit,” you say breathlessly.

“We’ll work on that,” he smiles. “Great job today.”

You remove your gloves and sit back down, leaning against the same corner of the octagon as you begin to unwrap your hands. You see the initials on your wraps and you’re brought back to reality. You bring your hands to stroke your dampened hair back and away from your face, redoing the hair tie to pull your hair into a tighter ponytail.

“That was– It felt like home,” you admit, looking up at him.

Benny chuckles and extends a hand for you. You take it and stand up, following him out of the octagon. “I’m excited about you, about this partnership. I think you’re gonna be great.”

You look at the time and realize that it’s already way past the normal business hours and quickly, you grab your duffle bag. “I didn’t mean to keep you here longer than you needed to be. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Benny says softly then adds, “I just realized we didn’t get to the paperwork side of things.”

“I can come in tomorrow,” you say, draping the strap of the duffle bag over your shoulder. “And however much it is, I’ll pay it up front.”

Benny’s eyes widen. “Whoa, whoa, wait–”

“I’m serious about this, Benny. There’s nothing I want more than to fight and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to do that.”

“Okay, tomorrow morning. Ten o’clock sound good?”

“Sounds great.” You shake his hand once more and he leads the both of you out of his gym. You look up at the sound of another man’s voice and see three other men - all of different statures - greet Benny with a smile. You don’t spend another second sparing each of them a glance, just now wanting to get home.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Benny calls out. “And I think I’ve got a great nickname for you.”

You toss your duffle back into the trunk of your car and shut it closed. You look over at Benny and notice all four men staring at you, but Benny’s the only one grinning. The other three, you notice, are staring at you with a look of hesitancy and curiosity. You take note that Benny’s the taller out of the four, but there’s another one that’s only a few inches shorter. He’s just as broad and built, the same blue eyes, but hair much shorter and slightly lighter. Then, your eyes veer off to the other two, your eyes lingering on one man in particular with a Standard Heating Oil cap placed atop of his curls. The other man standing next to him is the shortest, but he has just as big of a presence as Benny. His hair is greyer, but you have to wonder if it’s due to stress or if he’s much older than the rest of the group.

“A nickname is too soon, don’t you think? You don’t really know me yet, Benny.”

Benny shrugs. “Let’s just call it a gut feeling.”

“Okay, so what’s the nickname?”

“The Warrior,” he grins.

You chuckle. You actually let out a laugh and for months, you had almost forgotten what it was like to laugh. It’s ironic really, almost like your best friend was taunting you from even beyond the grave. He had always called you his little warrior after everything you had been through and how you had never given up, always willing to fight your way through difficult hardships. But now… Now you can’t even imagine fighting your way out of this grief that has taken over your life.

Benny then looks over at his friends, not realizing that he had forgotten to introduce them to you. “We can talk it over. I’m open to other nicknames, but it just seems right for you.”

“We’ll see, Benny.”

“By the way, these are my–”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Coach.” You interrupt him, not bothering to spare another glance at the other three men. You climb into your car and start it immediately, pulling out of the parking lot without another look at Benny or his friends.

Benny turns to his friends and shrugs. “She’s got potential,” he begins. “I think she can make it big.”

“You say that about almost everyone, Ben,” Santiago chuckles. “Is she usually that… standoffish?”

“She just lost her best friend,” Benny sighs.

“Damn,” Frankie mumbles.

“And you think that it’s a good idea that she fights?” Will asks. “Emotions and all of that–”

“I think she needs this,” Benny admits. “And we all know how it is to lose someone close to us.”

“Does she–” Frankie sighs. “Does she have anyone else to rely on?”

Again, Benny shrugs. “I just met her a few hours ago, but something tells me that she might be alone.”

“Fuck,” Santiago adds. “Well, is she any good?”

Benny nods. “Like I said, I think she can make it big.”

“Well, whatever you need, we’ll be here,” Will says, clasping a hand over his younger brother’s shoulder. “Now, should we all get out of here and go get some drinks?”

Santiago grins. “Yeah, let’s.” He nods in Frankie’s direction and adds, “Vamanos.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal character #garrett hedlund #garrett hendlund character #oscar isaac #oscar isaac character #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam character #triple frontier #will ironhead miller #benny miller #santiago pope garcia #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fanfiction #story: chance encounters

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videnoirfics · 9 days

Text

A Simple Favor- Raymond Smith x Reader

Gif is not mine- Belongs to its rightful creator!

Word Count: 1292

Summary: Raymond receives a request from Mickey to find a name. And the only person he knows that can get the job done is you. Problem is, how does a former lover that ghosted you out of nowhere come back asking for a favor?

Warning: Cursing. Angst.

A/N: Problem a multiparter. Depending on how it does. Started working on this a few days ago after rewatching The Gentlemen. I just love Ray but I love me some good Angst. This is my first piece of writing that I have published in a long time! I am slowly getting back into writing. I am so nervous but hopefully it's a good read!

Happy Reading!

***

A Year.

A whole year since you've seen this Brit Bastard and now here he was at your front door. Asking for a favor. A simple Favor. Typical.

You let out a boisterous laugh as Raymond once again adjusted his glasses on his face for the 3rd time since arriving at your doorstep. "You have a favor to ask of me?" A preposterous fool. You licked your lips in frustration, already feeling the heat rising in your body. "Well, you must have the biggest set of pearly white balls in the entire world to come here and ask me for a favor after what-a year? A whole year, Raymond?" You shifted the weight of your body to lean against the wide open front door, not allowing him entrance. He wouldn't dare ask to be let into your home would he?

He knew he was asking a lot. He knew that he was coming back with his tale tucked right in between his legs after ghosting you an entire year ago. But he knew out of all of the names he had on his roster to do this one task for him, you'd be the only one that could get this information the fastest.

Your name slipped from his lips. Almost a whisper. An ache in your heart reemerging from the locked up dungeon you had buried it into after so long. "I know that we didn't end things on a good note-" Anger flashed into your eyes as a flame was instantly lit. How fucking dare he?

"No, you fucking cunt. You! You didn't end things on a good note." You were quick to cut him off and correct. Many people wouldn't dare talk to Raymond like such. He was a powerful man. Working for another powerful man. He had pull in these streets. But you weren't afraid of him. And you have been waiting a very long time to get this off your chest. "But whatever." You shrugged your shoulders. "As long as you got your rocks off, yeah?"

Frustration washed over the man's face. You could tell he was running out of patience by the twitch in his eyes as he once again readjusted his glasses. You remembered the many times, you would take his glasses off, let him lay his head on your lap and you would soothe the stress away from him.

His job was demanding and sometimes lasting days, weeks before he could get time to himself. To relax. A slight twitch in your hand made you aware that deep down, you had the feelings resurface that you wanted to ease his frustration but you quickly pushed them back into lock and key. Refusing to let him see the mask slip. He didn't deserve it.

While he knew it wasn't going to be easy to convince to help him, he wasn't in the liberty of wasting time. Especially when Mickey was counting on him to get this done quickly. "Look, I need your help." He stopped beating around the bush. "And I know it's asking a lot. And I know an apology is not going to fix things but I am running out of time. Now if it makes you feel better and willing to change your mind, this isn't a request from me. It's from Mickey."

You knew Mickey. Rosalind and you were actually friends for a bit when you and Ray were courting. They were always good to you and Mickey even offered you a few side gigs for extra cash. You never felt like you owed him but if the favor was for Mickey...

"He needs you to find this name." Reaching into his jacket pocket, he retrieved a yellow sticky note paper with a name neatly printed on it. A familiar name. Your brows peaked with interest, grabbing the piece of paper into your hand, fingertips just barely touching his. The pad of your thumb ran over the name as you thought of your answer. Eyes ran the length of the man in front of you, landing on his blue eyes that you used to spend countless nights gazing into after a night of pure romance and passion. But now all he saw looking back at him was anger and sadness.

"This is for Mickey?" You questioned him. A curt nod was the answer you received. "I think I know where I can find them." Just as much as Raymond and Mickey were connected in their own ways, so were you. You had made a name for yourself from your special set of skills. You could easily talk and get as much information from anyone that you needed to get. It made you a lot of friends as well as a lot of enemies. But that came with the job. You never fret about it. And you knew what you could do. So did Raymond. Or he wouldn't be here if he didn't. If this was for Mickey, then fine. You’d help him. "Give me a day. I'll reach out to Mickey with what I can find." You responded, leaning away from the door in order to shut it. A large hand stopped you from doing so.

"I'd prefer you reach out to m-"

"And I'd prefer, I didn't." Once again, he was cut off. His fingers, spread out on the base of the front door, clawed at the wooden surface in irritation.

"Can you stop interrupting me?" Raymond was a cool and calm collected man. But boy did you know how to push his buttons.

"Can you fuck off into another existence?" You pushed his hand away from the door. "If you want my help? We do things my way. You don't call me. You don't talk to me. I respond to Mickey because this is for him. He can tell you where to go from there." You demanded.

“So Mickey is the middlemen. Between you and me?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Never seemed to be a problem for you before…” A flashback of the night you received a call from Rosalind replaying in your mind. Your name fell from his lips again. Almost begging you to cooperate. His blue eyes. Those ocean eyes, almost hypnotizing you to drown into the pool of them without an anchor. No...not this time again. "Tell Mickey he'll hear from me in a day..."

Before he could usher another word, the door slammed shut in his face. Dry lips were bit in frustration and unspoken words were left floating in the wind.

"Fucking hell..." he sighed, his shoulders now hunched over in defeat as he retreated back to his black SUV to tell Mickey about your cooperation.

Unbeknownst to him, you were watching from the window of the living room. Peering through the sheer curtain , pressing them back to get a look at your former lover.

You knew you shouldn't. You knew you shouldn't have even taken the job. Told him to fuck off and find someone else. But he said Mickey, and your logical brain thought it would make sense to say yes. You could see him sit in the car for a moment. Staring down at his lap, his glasses now off his face, resting on the dashboard. His left hand reached up to rub his eyes and temple. Feeling a headache approaching. You were sure of it. You knew him. More than you'd like to. But this didn't change anything. It couldn't.

You wouldn't let it.

You didn't wait to see him reverse from the driveway and leave back to the estate. Once he looked back up to your house; To the window you were just occupying, you were gone.

Sheer curtains swaying softly as they returned back to their resting position.

***

I've proofread this a few times. Hopefully I didn't make any mistakes. Like I said, probably a multi piece. Really wanted to get this out there because I just love Charlie and Ray especially is Sploosh. Anyways. Please let me know what you guys think!

Thank you for reading!

#charlie hunnam #Raymond smith #the gentlemen #charlie hunnam characters #angst #the gentlemen fic #raymond smith x reader #raymond smith x you #raymond smith fic #raymond smith fanfiction #charlie hunnam fic

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theesirenteller · 9 months

Text

Reaper's Crow.

🅦🅐🅡🅝🅘🅝🅖 Kidnapping, Gore, Abuse, Violence, Profanity, OCC, glorification of serial killings, mentions of sexual violence, smut, mentions of PTSD, Sociopathisim, graphic violence, torture, blood, gore, deaths, dark undertones, angst, slow-burn romance

▌This fictional piece is AU with very little amounts of canon. I understand if this fic isn't your cup of tea. Please do not leave hate comments. The story is set some years after season seven. ▌

"This is just in another series of bodies that have been reported to have been found butchered and dismembered. Two of the six bodies were confirmed to be Sergeant Robert Combs and Officer Micheal Llyod. Both were suspected to be in business with the Aryan Warriors. Police have put out a curfew for all Mottenhill residents to be inside their homes by seven p.m. We ask all residents to lock their doors and remain safe."

An ear-piercing scream echoed throughout the four-bedroom-two-story home. Drowning out the downstairs news report from the Tv. The sound of glass shattering followed by choked-up sobs and high-pitched squeals of agony bounced off the walls of the home. The commotion let death himself slip in through the backdoor like a dark shadow in the night. The rubber soles of his steel-toned leather boots pressed soundlessly across the wooden floor. The glimmer of his silver c-shaped daggers reflected across the floorboards as the six-foot-seven male crept up the staircase.

"You stupid fucking bitch! I love you! Why do you have to make me so angry?!"

The reaper tightened his grip on the daggers within his hands as he edged closer to the master bedroom door. His target, the unfortunate son of a bitch stood with his back turned away from the door. Hovering over a blood-covered, badly beaten woman. Who looked more like a girl based on her size. She spat blood across the floor, and a few of her teeth followed. Tapping against the wood as they spilled. The man raised his foot up, no doubt getting ready to aim a kick towards the back of her head. Just as his foot started to lower…

The dagger shot right through his skull with a loud crunch. The leather whip attached to the handle of the blade tugged back. The man's neck yanked backwards as his large body fell onto the floor. The layers of rolls on his stomach jiggled due to the harsh thud. The blade roughly snapped open the bridge of his nose and dug upwards splitting the middle bridge of his eyes open wide. Blood splattering across the man's wrinkled face as his body jolted back and forth out of shock.The Reaper lowly whistled to himself as he walked further into the bedroom. His once bright eyes turned midnight blue as he looked down at his victim coldly. His breathing shallow as rolled the wire around his leather glover covered hand but ultimately yanking the blade from the man's head. Warm blood splattered across his shoes and pants. Something that felt as simple as rain falling on a gloomy day. Crouching down like a panther getting ready to indulge in its prey, he soon hovered over the dwindling body. First came snapping a photo on his mobile then he plunged the dagger violently into the man's jugular and rapidly yanked it across his throat. Viciously causing the mangled bones to disconnect from the spine and shoulders. With little regard to the blood painting his face crimson, The Reaper proceeded to take a plastic black bag from his pocket and toss the head inside. As he stood back up the sound of wheezing caught his attention.

The woman weakly slithered herself as far away from him as she could. "P-ppp-ple" she attempted to beg as blood steeped from the sides of her mouth. Her sepia-brown skin is stained with crimson so much that he wasn't sure how many places she was bleeding from. She was tired of begging. Tired of pleading. And if this was her end, she wanted to plead for her life rather than plead for the pain to stop. It never did stop when she pleaded anyway. The reaper's left eye began to twitch as flashes of blood, stab wounds, and his cries of agony replayed in his mind. Tara. He dared not utter her name. His eyes closed for a moment. Wincing. WIncing away the painful memory. When he opened them again he looked around before making his way over to the bed. After snatching off the duvet cover he then B-lined towards her again. Now crouching down beside her he proceeded to turn her on her back. Which caused a sudden yelp of pain to escape her lips. Shoe parks embedded across her breasts and her collarbone stuck out of place. One of her eyes was closed shut and swollen with the size of a lemon. A large gash in the middle of her forehead.She had eyes the same color as the grease that used to coat his calloused hands. Eyes that held pain. A pain he was familiar with. A pain he wished to undone.

"Sorry" his voice was gruff. Husky with grief.

Snapping her collarbone back into place only caused a mouse-like squeak to leave her lips. She had no more fight left in her. Her eyes rolled back before they shut. Her breathing was shallow as he leaned in closer to her face. Not wasting a moment longer he draped the duvet across her body and cocooned her into it. Carefully picking her up, The Reaper cradled her in his arms. Swiftly turning on his heel, he retrieved the bagged head from the floor on his way out the room.

Disappearing like an Incubus in the night, The Reaper drove his GMC truck out of Las Vegas. He drove for miles until reaching his destination. Parking his truck out in front of the gated mansion, he grew comfortable in his seat and wrote on the plastic bag in red marker 'Stolbatch' before tossing it out the window.

It wasn't long before he was back on the road. The road that once was his friend, his freedom, his sense of invincibility and thrill…until it wasn't. It'd become an escape route and pathway to the neck job. His attention turned to his mirror. He watched the battered woman lay unconsciously across his backseat. It's been a longtime since he acted on impulse. And now he debated on what he'd do with her. Where he'd leave her.

'Christ Jackie…what'd ya gotten into now' an old friend's words played back in his head causing a grimace to flash across his lips.

Pushing those thoughts aside, the only thing now on his mind was to get the nameless woman taken care of and patched up.

Chapter Two.

#theesirentellerstories #theesirenteller fanfic #jax teller #jax teller fics #theesirenteller characters #charlie hunnam #soa fics #jax teller x blk!oc #Jax teller x oc #charlie hunnam fanfiction #jax teller x ofc #jax teller; reapers crow

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musings-of-a-rose · 11 months

Text

Build Me Up - Chapter 4 (Final Chapter)

Pairing: William “Ironhead” Miller x f!reader (inclusive - stock photos suck)

Word Count: 3200+

Rating: M for mature - 18+ only!

Warnings: Mature themes and some canon mentioned. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: The last chapter! I never intended this fic to be super long, but I loved their meet cute(?) idea and had to write it. As always, I take asks for any of the fics I write for, even if it’s just questions or a little drabble! Thank you for waiting so LONG inbetween that first and second chapter. Y’all the real MVP’s!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

--If you like this, please let the algorithm know by reblogging! This way it can be shared with multiple people (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

Build Me Up Masterlist

General Masterlist

Will Miller Masterlist

<<;Chapter 3<<

Several months later, Will takes you out for drinks after a nice dinner, your usual Friday night date. It was a great chance for you both to catch up on what the other was doing during the week, as sometimes life got so busy you’d barely get a chance to speak. This last week, Will had been out of town at a few different bases, making his speech about joining the Armed Forces, so your conversations take longer than normal. Will places a drink order with the bartender, leaning against the bar on his elbow as he watches you talk about the kids archery camp you’ve been instructing, eyes lighting up as you talk about them, when his eyes glance over your shoulder and his smile drops, his eyes instantly becoming hard. You stop talking and follow his gaze to a really pretty women, tall, lean, and blonde.

His ex fiance.

She’s with a friend but splits from them, pointing to the bar directly where Will was standing. You try to drag him away but it’s like he’s frozen, unable or unsure of what to do.

“Oh. Hey, Will.”

He stares at her for a few moments longer than socially acceptable. “Ashley.”

She glances at you and back at Will, making the connection that you’re together. She sticks a hand out to you.

“Hi, you must be the new girlfriend. I’m Ashley. Will and I used to…well, we were engaged.” She says the last word like it holds some giant meaning, like she was hoping it would cause a fight between you both. You take her hand, gripping it firmly and shake.

“Oh so you’re the ex fiance? Amber?”

Her eyes narrow at you slightly. “Ashley.”

“Right, right. I knew it was something that starts with A.”

She glares at you for a second before rallying, schooling a look of indifference on her face. “So, how long have you two been dating?” She looks at Will but he seems incapable of answering her so you take over.

“About a year.”

She raises her eyebrows. “A year? You made it a whole year?” She sounds like she’s shocked, as if she wasn’t with him long enough to be engaged.

“Yeah. Will’s great.”

She smiles at you, but the look in her eyes, like she knows some terrible secret and is going to save you from something, makes you want to punch her even more. She leans in closer to you, but still speaks loud enough for Will to just hear it over the sounds of the bar.

“He can be…a lot. Did he tell you to say that?”

“What?”

She leans in closer. “Blink twice if you’re in trouble.”

The color on Will’s face drains and you square your shoulders, sitting up straighter as you turn the full force of your gaze on her.

“That’s really not funny. And honestly? I’m glad you couldn't handle him because that made him available for me. Will is the best thing to ever happen to me-”

Ashley waves her hand, cutting you off. “Yeah, yeah. Just wait until he finally shows you who he is in bed. A real freak. If you need help, just blink and I’ll call someone.”

You stand abruptly, your barstool wobbling dangerously on one leg as you do. “You know, I have to thank you.”

She blinks at you. “Oh? So you do need help?”

“Thank you for showing me exactly what a terrible person you are. It’s easy to see who the problem is. Now, unkindly, get the fuck out of our way.” You take Will’s hand and pull him up, Ashley staring at you open mouthed as you push past her, Will’s hand squeezing yours as you make your way through the crowd and out of the packed bar, heading straight for his truck. Will fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks it, hopping in and you do the same. He starts it but doesn’t move, letting the ac cool it down.

“What a fucking bitch,” You say, half to yourself and half to Will.

He’s quiet a moment. “I never thought…I didn’t know she was still in town.”

“Well fuck her. She is so rude. I wanted to fight her but I didn’t want to ruin date night.”

Will chuckles lightly. “Now that I would’ve loved to have seen.”

“Oh? I can go in there and drag her ass out here,” You point over your shoulder with your thumb, pretending to go for the doorhandle. Will smiles, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes as he shakes his head.

“Hey…where are you?” You reach out and cup his cheek. Will leans into it for a moment, sighing deeply.

“She just…brought up a lot of memories. Ones that I didn’t want to think about again.”

“You’re a good man, Will. I know I say it all the time. I’m hoping it’ll sink in that Ironhead of yours one day.”

He smiles a little brighter this time, still not reaching his eyes. “I know.”

You watch him for a few moments before scooting close to him, pressing your lips to his and letting him lead. He responds after a second or two, kissing you back and pushing his tongue into your mouth. Moaning into him, you toss your leg over his lap, your hands sliding around the back of his neck, gripping and tugging on his hair. You tug a little harder, his head moving back and he smirks at you, that glint in his eye when he knows you’re about to sparkling in the dim light. Sucking at a spot on his neck, Will whimpers, fingers digging into your hips as you let go, a hickey quickly rising in palace of your lips. Will fumbles with his belt and you slap his hands away, quickly undoing his belt and jeans, pulling him out as he gasps at your touch, kissing him once more as you take him in hand and pump him a few times. Moving your panties aside you sit up and slide yourself down onto him slowly, which apparently doesn’t work for Will as he grips your hips and pulls you down quickly while thrusting up into you, chuckling darkly at your cry.

“Fuck, Will! You feel so good!”

He guides you as you fuck him, pulling you down harder as you chant his name, random words and sounds tumbling from your lips as he fucks you. One hand is gripping his arm and the other slaps against the window and it’s then you see her. Ashley, standing a car length or two away, staring directly at you and Will having sex. As Will leans forward to suck hard on your neck, you smirk at Ashley, giving her a small wave and flipping her off as Will hits that spot inside of you and you cum, screaming his name a little louder than you probably needed to. Will comes a moment later, grunting and panting your name as he spurts inside of you, biting you hard on the shoulder. Chests heaving, Will looks up at you, eyes still dark as he takes in your face, hair all askew and sweaty.

“I fucking love you, Robin.”

A smile spreads across your face. “I fucking love you, Will Miller.”

“Move in with me?”

“Was the sex that good?”

He chuckles. “It’s always that good with you.”

“Why don’t you ask me that when you’re not balls deep inside of me.”

He grips your chin lightly with his thumb and pointer finger and you meet his gaze.

“I mean it, Robin. I’ve been dying to ask you for a few months. I just…”

“You never have to be afraid to ask me anything, Will.”

He nods. “I know. So…will you?”

“Yes. But if you feel different in the morning, it’s ok. Just tell me.”

“Deal.”

—----

He does not feel different in the morning, and he proves this to you by burying his face between your legs until you beg him to stop, overstimulated and nearly crying from so much bliss.

“742,” Will says matter of factly.

“742? Really?”

He smiles proudly. “I love to make my girl cum.”

“I still can’t believe you track that.”

“Wanna know how many times we’ve had sex?”

You throw a pillow at him and he throws it back, expertly hitting you in the head.

–

Both of you take a couple weeks to pack your things and move them over slowly, since work was still super busy. Once you’re moved in, you settle into a comfortable routine, making Will a quick breakfast and coffee before he heads into work or off to the airport to make another recruitment speech. You can see his job wears on him, but when you ask him about it, he shrugs and says “It’s what I can do.” Once you pressed him more and he said a lot of places don’t want to hire veterans that have seen active combat. They don’t outwardly say it, but he’s been turned down for jobs that he interviewed great at, making it all the way through the process until they saw his forms, suddenly not so interested. He’d once asked a recruiter why and they mumbled something about “not worth the risk”.

He takes up archery with you as his coach and he takes to it well, which doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, considering his history. Will also pays very close attention to detail, making it easier for him to hone in on the target and how best to get there. He still loves it when you come and stand behind him, fixing an elbow here or a wrist there. You finally got him to snap out of concentration Will when you came up behind him and pretended to adjust something on his posture before he drew and ground your hips into his ass. Will burst out laughing, not used to being the one grinded on and you both laughed about that for a long while.

You’ve been together a year and a half and finally, Will gets to meet your family. They’re having their annual “2nd of July” celebration, as most of the family will be inside on the fourth, none of the veterans big fans of all the firework noise. They’d had to cancel last year and so were extra excited for this year, especially since you were able to fly in with the now infamous Captain William Miller.

“Do I look ok?” Will asks, fidgeting with his collar in the hotel mirror.

“Let me see.”

He turns to face you, arms outstretched to his sides. “Do I need to change?”

“As much as I’d love to take this shirt off of you, you look fine, Will. You don’t need to impress anyone.”

“Easy for you to say. Everyone loves you.”

“They have to. They’re family.”

When you arrive, Will knocks on the door, wiping his palms on his jeans that you’d convinced him to wear over business pants. He’s visibly nervous and you can see him getting in his head. So you lean up to him, speaking quietly by his ear.

“If you relax, we can stop at the store on the way back to get that stuff for that thing you’ve been wanting to try in the bedroom.”

Will’s eyes snap to yours, darkening instantly. His eyebrows raise but before he can say anything, the door opens and your dad is there, hugging you and grasping Will’s outstretched hand, a smile on his face.

“Will! It’s so good to finally meet you! You want a burger or a dog?”

“Whatever you have more of, sir.”

“Sir! You hear him? I like him already.”

“Dad!”

He chuckles. “Alright, alright. No need to call me sir. I’m fairly certain you outrank me.”

Will shakes his head. “Negative. You are the father of the love of my life. You definitely outrank me for bringing her into this world.”

Your dad stops, looking between Will and you and seeing the look of utter devotion on both of your faces. “That’s very kind of you to say, Will. Now come on - let’s get you some food before these heathens eat it all.”

Will’s eyes widen when you step out into the backyard and he sees the amount of people gathered here. Kids running around with sparklers, throwing snaps at each other and laughing, some people swimming in the pool, and others talking, some loudly and some not, red, white, and blue colors everywhere.

“I thought you said it was quiet?” He doesn’t look at you but the corner of his mouth ticks up.

“It is. We don’t do fireworks so it’s quiet for 2nd of July.”

You make the rounds, introducing Will to everyone, his shoulders relaxing more with every new person that he meets. “You weren’t kidding - almost everyone here has served or is serving.”

“Yup. I told you the truth that day in Publix.”

Everyone loved Will, but no one more than your mom. She fawned over him, squeezing his arm, making sure he had enough to eat and drink, that he knew where all the exits were and that there were no pets, the best places to stand with your back against a wall and clear line of sight to the door. The backyard was set up so you could stand pretty much anywhere and achieve this, but she wanted any excuse to talk to him. When your dad came over and pulled Will towards the grill to “help him”, your mom came up to you and gushed about Will, how he was so respectful and kind and a really nice man.

True to your word, no fireworks were had that night. Instead, your parents had put up a giant inflatable screen and played a video of fireworks with no sound effects, just classical music over top. Will and you sit on the ground, Will leaning back on his hands and you between his legs as you watch.

“This is amazing, Robin. I gotta tell the guys about this. We should do something like this back home.”

You lean back into his lap further, turning slightly to the side to look at him. “That’s a great idea! Frankie and Vanessa have plenty of room in their yard for this sort of screen. They aren’t too expensive. And their daughters would love to watch Frozen on this thing.”

The fireworks end and you sigh, stretching slightly as you stand up, finally able to make a full stretch. You turn to Will to offer him your hand, but your voice gets stuck in your throat when you look at him, kneeling on one knee, a ring box sitting in his hand.

“Robin, I know I’m not an easy man. Hell, you met me in the middle of a PTSD episode in the middle of a Publix. But somehow, even though I didn’t know you, you were able to pull me out. You saved me that day, but more than that, you’ve saved me every day since then. I feel…normal around you. Or as normal as I can be. You make me feel safe..safe to be me, all of me. I never thought that was possible. I thought that I would have to live my life half a person. You never judge me for the things I’ve had to do, any of the nightmares or quirks, none of it. Other women would’ve walked away, but you take my hand and guide me through the fog. And I hope I give you even an ounce of the happiness you bring me and I want to spend the rest of my life making sure that you’re happy and feel loved.” Will opens the little black box, exposing a beautifully crafted ring. “Will you marry-”

“YES!”

You launch yourself at him, cutting off his sentence to laughter and whoops all around, your lips crashing to his as everyone cheers. You take his face in both hands and pull back, tears falling not just from your eyes but his as well.

“I love you, Captain William Miller.”

“I love you so much, darlin’.”

On your flight home, you covertly join the mile high club, Will grinning from ear to ear watching you exit the bathroom and smoothe down your dress a few minutes after he’d left the same one.

—----

Everyone flies out to your parent’s house for the wedding, as they had practically begged you to have the wedding there. And Will enthusiastically agreed, as the yard was literally set up for veterans. Everyone was there, even Santi flew up from his job in Colombia and asked you to tell him who your single family members were with a wink.

The wedding was small but grand, flowers picked from your mom’s garden were woven into your braided updo, mathing the ones your mom had hand embroidered onto the outer layer of your dress, a matching embroidered handkerchief in Will’s coat pocket.

The reception went on long into the night, the kids all passed out on sleeping bags in the living room as they watched a movie. Will always had a hand on you at all times since you said “I do”, pressed to your lower back, lightly gripping your arm, or linking fingers with you and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

You’d both decided to skip the honeymoon and save that money towards a downpayment on a house of your own, a discussion of kids sometime in the next couple of years or so. “We can always go on some fancy trip later,” you say as you take another sip of the beer Will had brought you.

You did, however, take the week off anyway and spend it in bed, only leaving it to make food and use the bathroom, Will demanding that the only clothing you were allowed to wear was one of his shirts and nothing else. When you said “Yes, sir” he growled and chased you until he pushed you into the bed, both of you living out your now shared dark desires.

And in the morning, you woke before him, watching his sleeping face as the light hits it just right and you think about how lucky you were to have been in Publix that day and how much you love the man in front of you, even if he was snoring loudly.

—----

About a year or so later, Will and you are sitting on the couch cuddling, yelling out wrong answers to Wheel of Fortune, when his phone lights up. He leans forward and grabs it off the coffee table, letting you settle back into his side while he looks at the screen.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah. I just got a text from Santi.”

“If it’s about some girl, I don’t need to know.”

“No. He says he has a job for us.”

—----

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wardenparker · 2 years

Text

Necessary Arrangements: ch 4

Will Miller x female Reader A Princess Diaries inspired Triple Frontier AU Co-written with @steeevienicks

Upon returning from Colombia with one fewer member of his former special forces team, Will Miller is met with the revelation that his absent father is dying and Will is expected to take over the family business. Which would be fine, if the family business weren’t the running of an entire small nation. This is Will’s chance to start over and do some good in the world - but how will he cope with his new life and the woman he is supposed to spend it with?

Rating: Teen, but as always this blog is 18+! Word Count: 9.9k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series include family death, cursing, and food descriptions.* The usual cursing, food, and fluff here. Mention of break ups and of Frankie’s addiction issue, but nothing too heavy. Summary: The Delta boys descend on the royal palace, and some of them might start to get comfortable in Freidlyn a lot faster than they ever thought. Notes: Love is in the air and we are making absolutely no apologies for it 💖

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3

The next day feels like an unruly marathon despite how orderly it is. The morning church service ended up being a free-for-all of paparazzi trying to get photographs of the new king, and when Will had instinctively reached for your hand to bring you inside the building away from the flashing bulbs, chaos had ensued.

At least his friends’ travel plans had all gone steadily. The private jet normally reserved for diplomats or special visitors had been dispatched last night so it could land in North Carolina and refuel before the morning. All three men and little baby Xiomara Morales were safely on board and on schedule. Almost all of Will’s day after arriving back at the palace has been spent with the royal tailor being precisely measured and fitted, or with the palace interior designer, saying yes or no to the hundreds of tiny decisions about what the redecoration of his suite will look like. It is immense, and by the time you appear in his sitting room at half past five, he looks like his eyes are about to cross from being overwhelmed. “I’m very sorry to interrupt, Madame Tetroux, but his Majesty needs to change for dinner. His guests will be arriving soon.”

Will perks up at that. This day had been a lot for sure, and while he was prepared for paparazzi that morning, he was not prepared for that many. Will gets up and goes over to the closet, his suit hung up and ready to be worn to dinner. It fits like a glove, and he can’t help but admire how it looks in the full-length mirror. The pants and jacket are black and the white button up and green tie complete the look. This is definitely the most expensive thing he has ever put on his body. He grabs the emerald cufflinks from a little wooden box and walks out of his closet to where you’re sitting. “Could you help me with these?” He asks timidly.

“Of course.” Cuff links are easy enough for a second person, and you settle them in place quickly. “You know, it might make your life easier if you took on a valet sooner rather than later,” you hum, straightening his tie just a smidge. “Let someone else pick out your clothes and make sure you don’t have a tag sticking out by accident? It’s one less thing to worry about.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” He chuckles. “Do I look okay? I like the suit, but I’ve never worn anything so…perfect before. So I feel a little…I don’t know. Uncomfortable? No, that’s not it. Out of place, maybe? Which, ha, I shouldn’t be considering all of this.” He thinks once he sees his friends, he won’t feel so strange, like having familiar faces will put him at ease. “You look beautiful, by the way.” He glances up and down noticing the dress you have on for the evening. Fitting perfectly and the shimmer of your jewelry suiting your skin tone and eyes beautifully.

"You look very handsome." And that is the absolute honest truth without a hint of embellishment. "If it helps, try to think of these clothes as your uniform, for now. I'm sure you were uncomfortable in your uniform when you first joined the military, but you grew used to it. This is no different." With a small smirk, you lift up your ankle a little to show him your high heeled shoe. "These have been a part of my uniform for so long that I barely ever feel pain from them anymore."

“I don’t know how you ladies ever get used to those death traps, but I have to say they look very good.” He’s always admired a woman in heels, no matter how much it hurt his ankles just looking at them. “That’s a good point though. I was uncomfortable in those scratchy uniforms at first but after a while you just kind of forget about it. See, this is one of the many reasons I need you around – you just make things make sense to me.”

"Probably the most uncomfortable you'll be in your own clothes from now on is when you have to wear a dress uniform." There is a small piece of lint on the lapel of his suit that you pick away easily, offering him an encouraging smile. "Although that will be at both our wedding and coronation, so I promise in advance to make sure you have your favourite things to sleep in when you finally get to sleep those nights." You have no intention of breaching the topic of sharing a bed, but you can at least make sure he is taken care of. Consummation will happen whenever it happens. You've only known each other for two days.

“What would I do without you, Plum?” He asks. He has also thought about sleeping arrangements, but isn’t sure how or when to bring that up to you. Ultimately deciding that it would be your choice whether or not the two of you would share a bed. “Seriously, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for how kind and gracious you’ve been these last few days. I probably seem like a fuckin’ idiot, but I’m trying, and I’ve actually been learning a lot.” He grabs your hand from where you’ve been picking the small pieces of lint off his label and brings your hand to his lips, leaving a lingering kiss there. There’s a moment where the two of you are quiet, just looking into each other’s eyes; a peaceful moment in the chaos of the last two days…which is interrupted by a brisk knock on his door.

“Sire? Your guests have arrived.” It’s Minna.

“Thank you, Mlle. Thorn.” The spell of the moment is broken just like that, and you offer the other woman a grateful smile. She has been working herself ragged since the car accident and you are more appreciative of her help than you can say. “We’ll be down directly.” If you can have just one more stolen moment of his sweetness, you will certainly take it.

“Are you ready to meet my brother and friends?” Will asks, squeezing your hand one last time before letting go. Out of habit now he offers his arm for you to take, smiling when your arm loops through his perfectly. “If they ask something you don’t feel comfortable answering, please just tell them to fuck off. They’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be slightly more articulate than that, but I don’t have any trouble expressing myself.” You tease, offering him an encouraging grin. The walk from the residential wing of the palace to the formal dining room takes a few minutes but you and Will are both brisk walkers when you have reason to be. He’s excited to see them, that’s obvious, and to be honest you find it very sweet. Now all you can do is pray they like you.

Benny, Frankie, Xi, and Santi have been escorted to the dining hall – all of them, except Xi, who is passed out on her father’s shoulder – are looking around with wide eyes. None of them have ever seen anything like this in real life before, and never imagined a place like this actually existed.

“I told you I wasn’t bullshitting.” Will laughs as he walks up and hugs each of his friends and brother. “Thank you for coming. It’s good to see you all.”

“This is—” Benny would normally whistle but he doesn’t want to wake Xi, so he just blows out a long breath. “This is un-fucking-believable. No wonder Mom was always so cagey about your dad when we used to ask. Jesus…”

“Yeah, can’t say that I blame her.” Will laughs, patting his brother on the back. “I don’t think either of us would have kept quiet about this place had we known when we were kids. How was the flight?”

“Beat the hell out of every bare bones transport we ever took,” Frankie laughs. “Xi didn’t like take off, but we took turns reading and playing with her and she knocked out somewhere over the Atlantic. Woke up again over England and we started the whole thing again. Now she’s…” He shrugs a little bit but is careful not to disturb his sleeping angel. “She always falls asleep on a car ride. It works like a charm.”

“I’m glad little miss got some sleep. Hope you did too.” Will smiles as he holds his arms out for the small baby. A gesture that makes your heart flutter. He takes Xi in his arms and cuddles her against his broad chest – he looks like a natural with her, and she settles into him quickly. “Someone missed their Uncle Will.”

The quiet moment is the right one, you decide, and extend your hand to Will’s younger half-brother, introducing yourself informally and knowing that formalities will come later. “I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about you,” you tell him honestly.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Benny says as he steps forward to hug you. He wraps his arms around you like he’s afraid that if he squeezes too tight, you’ll break and says your name. “You’re stunning. My brother is a lucky guy.”

“That’s very sweet of you.” The fact that he ignored your hand and hugged you instead speaks volumes to you about his willingness to embrace his brother’s new roll and you give his shoulders a slight squeeze in return. “I’m afraid you’ll be seeing rather a lot of me in the weeks to come. Your brother and I have quite a lot to discuss with you.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Benny chuckles. “I’m looking forward to getting to know all about you and,” he gestures around him, “all of this. This is so cool.” He turns to Frankie and Pope. “These are our friends – Frankie Morales and Santiago Garcia.”

Both men offer their hands to shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, su Majestad.” Santi winks. “You’re beautiful.”

“It’s still your Ladyship until next month.” You tell him with a grin, so very thankful that they seem to be excepting and embracing everything with ease now threat they know it isn’t a prank. “I’m afraid there is rather a lot to talk about, but I’m so glad you could all come.”

“I’ll be honest, Will and Benny had me for a while.” Santi admits. “But after being picked up in that plane? Wow. Sorry for doubting you, hermano but to be fair they’ve pulled fake wife pranks before when we were in basic together, so…” He laughs.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing fake about me.” The friendship they all have is something that will be to Will’s great advantage in the coming weeks, you’re sure of that. He will need their support.

“Excellent. Frank, you gonna say hi or are you going to keep looking around like a lost puppy?” He teases. “Frank’s the quiet one of the groups so he shouldn’t give you much trouble.” Santi squeezes your shoulder before stepping back and nudging Frankie forward.

“Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Frankie says quietly. He’s overwhelmed, it’s easy to see, but he’s trying his best to make a good impression.

“Thank you for making the trip.” You shake his hand firmly, something he seems surprised by, but you find out a moment later that it’s only a surprise because he, too, is a hugger. “I know travel with a child isn’t easy, but please if there is anything you or she needs, do not hesitate to ask. I’ve arranged for her to have a place in the palace daycare whenever it is needed for as long as you are here.” When the door to the sitting room opens once more, Will’s mother and Elsie are announced, and you practically grin at your friend. She loves the rare occasion of a formal dinner because the kitchens are amazing, and also because she gets to pull out her best dresses. Even with the palace in mourning, a simple gown is always beautiful. “You’ll all know Sandy Miller,” you guess, watching Benny light up and give his mother a hug. “Elsie is the palace’s head librarian. And my best friend, so if you want the truly silly stories of my youth, she is where you get them.”

The boys all flock to Sandy, wrapping her in their arms and offering condolences and forehead kisses. As far as she’s concerned, these are all her sons and she’s so happy to see them. “Thank you for coming, boys. It means a lot to us that you were able to drop everything and make it all the way out here, now give me that baby.” She makes a silly grabbing motion at Frankie holding his daughter.

Frankie looks away from Sandy and Xi and notices Elsie standing in the background near you. Even in heels, she’s short and her soft black dress fits her wonderfully. She has dark hair, big green eyes and the prettiest smile he had ever seen. She looked as nervous as he felt. “Hello, everyone.” She raises her hand in a small wave. “Welcome to Freidlyn.”

“Put your tongue back in your mouth, Fish.” Pope chuckles under his breath as you lead his friends further into the room, exchanging words with a man in a uniform as you go.

“Let’s all go through to dinner,” you suggest, knowing that talking over food is always infinitely less awkward. “I’m sure our travelers will be happier once they have a glass of wine and a solid meal in their bellies.”

They all agree – they had been offered food on the plane, but that had been hours ago and they were starving. They follow you to the main dining room, eyeing the ornate carvings and decorations along the walls.

“So how are you feeling?” Benny asks as he walks a few steps behind his brother.

“Surprisingly okay,” Will says. “There’s still a lot that needs to be done and I still feel like I’m in over my head, but Plum here has been such a big help.” He smiles at you.

“Plum, huh?” Benny chuckles.

“When he was four, Klaus and I took him to see the royal ballet perform The Nutcracker.” Sandy explains, a melancholy smile softening her features. “He told me he wanted to marry a fairy one day.” The kindness in her eyes turns to you and her smile deepens just a little. “So I think Sugarplum is a very fitting nickname.”

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” Elsie giggles, imagining this giant, broad man as a small boy, eyes alight with wonder and the magic of the Nutcracker. “I’ve always thought you were a fairy princess.” She says to you, nudging you with her shoulder gently. “We all think it’s a good nickname.”

“Who’s ‘we all’?” You ask Elsie, raising an eyebrow when you look down the table at her where she is sitting in the other side of Will’s brother.

“Oh, me, Minna, Lisette, Sandy.” Elsie lists off. She gives you a smirk, “And apparently everyone else at this table.” She says as she lifts her wine glass to her lips.

“I knew you would get Lisette in on this.” You groan softly, offering Will an apologetic expression. “Our other close school friend is one of the palace pastry chefs. Those amaretti cookies you loved last night? They are one of her specialties.”

“My compliments to her.” He says. “So if at any point I wanted more…all I’d have to do is ask her? And she’d just make them?” He laughs, taking a bite of the first course.

“Yes,” Elsie says as she spreads the cloth napkin over her lap. “She’s always willing to bake treats for anyone at the palace. I think she’s more passionate about baking than I am about books, and I love books. Clearly.”

“Good, I think I’ll want another batch soon.” Will smirks.

“She made the petit fours for tonight’s dessert course,” you tell him, grinning when Will lights up with excitement. “And truly, you know all you have to do is ask for anything and it will be provided. I know you’re still getting used to that, but it’s true.”

******

Dinner continues to go well, everyone laughing and exchanging stories. Will had learned that you had quite a wild streak in your early teens and had snuck out multiple times with Lisette and Elsie and another friend when you should have been studying for exams. You had flushed wildly when Elsie told the story, reliving the memories with your friends. Minna had joined later in the evening after the final course to remind everyone of where their rooms would be located and offered to take them herself if need be.

“I will take you up on that.” Santi smiles at her. You noticed the look on her face when she saw Santi and smiled, raising your eyebrows and nodding at Elsie to see how he had seemingly affected her.

“Great, I will be right outside when you’re ready.” Minna offers Santiago Garcia a smile perceptibly warmer than her usual.

“Bro…she’s cute.” Benny jabbed his side. “Don’t be a dickhead.”

“Me? I would never.” Santi huffed.

“She is also his Majesty’s personal assistant, so please be on your best behavior.” The last thing Will needed was to lose a remarkable assistant like Minna because of a temporary affair, but you’re also not their – or her – mother. “That being said? Her favorite flower is tulips and sending an occasional snack to her office with a note would do wonders for someone interested in her.”

“She has never said no to chocolate.” Elsie pipes up. “I have a stash of cute little greeting cards in my desk if you’d like one.”

“Chocolate, snacks, tulips. Got it.” Santi says as he snaps his fingers and looks to where Minna had walked away. “Anything else?”

“Just be kind. She works very hard and deserves nothing but the best.” Elsie responds. “She also appreciates people being direct – she doesn’t care for…what’s that phrase? Oh! ‘Beating around the bush’.”

“Behave yourself, Santiago.” Sandy pats his arm in her most maternal fashion. “Will needs that girl. She’s been invaluable.”

“I really, really do.” Will says. “So please, for the love of this kingdom and my sanity, do not fuck this up.”

Santi rolls his eyes and crosses his heart. “You guys really need to have more faith in me.” He laughs.

“Well, we would, but…” Frankie chimes in, leaving the sentence hanging in the air. “We like giving you shit too much.” He decides to leave Colombia out of this. This is a time of celebration and starting a new chapter. For more than one of them, potentially.

“If only all of us could hang out together, outside of this.” Benny said absentmindedly, bringing his fork to his mouth. “Could be fun to let loose with you all.”

“We have a hard week ahead of us.” You tell him honestly, sipping the glass of port that was served with your dessert. “Once we’ve passed the funeral and Parliament’s formal announcements, then I’m sure we can arrange something.”

“Sounds good.” Benny says. “Can’t wait to do some exploring. This place is incredible.”

“I can arrange for someone from the palace staff to give you all a tour tomorrow morning, if you would like? After breakfast?” If you knew more about the history of this particular palace you would do it yourself, but there are literal professionals who have dedicated themselves to the study, so you won’t insult them by trying. “The king will be occupied for about an hour with the royal portraitist, but at least it’s just photographs for now. Sitting for a painting is excruciatingly boring.”

“I can do it!” Elsie volunteers. “I have two hundred years’ worth of knowledge tucked away and I have time tomorrow morning. A lot of the staff will want to be present for the portraits so they can get a glance at the new king, and I already know what he looks like so…” She offers, hopeful for this opportunity to get to know Will’s friends better, especially Frankie.

“King.” Benny shakes his head at his brother. “I still can’t believe that.”

“Thank you, Els.” If she weren’t so far away, you would reach to squeeze her hand, but you still offer her an appreciative smile. “I have a round of interviews tomorrow that I already wish was over with, so unfortunately I won’t be able to join you.”

“It’s no problem, really.” Elsie puckers her lips and blows you a kiss. “I figure we’d do the rose gardens, orchards, and the main throne room as well as my library. That should take up a good amount of time during the portraits and interviews.” She glances at her phone. “If you’ll excuse me though, I have some reports to prepare for this historic event. Goodnight, everyone.” She gives a smile before turning and leaving the dining room. Elsie always was a busy body, ever since you could remember.

“She is adorable,” Santi comments. “Bet she has a lot of great stories about this place. So," he hums your name. "What do you think of our boy so far?"

“I’m assuming you mean as a man and not as a king?” You raise an eyebrow in Santi’s direction. He’s a straight shooter – as the phrase goes – and you appreciate that about him. It would be easy to just suck up incessantly and heap overt praise on his friend, but his compliments are never empty and his praise always accompanied by anecdotal evidence. “I know the concept of an arranged marriage isn’t easy to wrap your head around in the twenty-first century.” You tell the group of Americans. “But please understand that Will has my absolute loyalty and support. They say that a successful marriage of any kind is built on trust, and a successful arranged marriage is one where you become close friends, with a bond greater than any temporary passion.” The man in question sits to your left at the head of the table, and when you look back over at him you can see the smile on his face. “I don’t think it is a stretch to say that we are friends already. And that bond can only get stronger with time.”

“I have full confidence that this girl right here is going to be the greatest friend I’ll ever have in my entire life,” he reaches for your hand. “Sorry guys.” He hopes it will be more one day, he really does, but he won’t push it – Will would never dream of making you uncomfortable.

“You’re saying all the right things, sweetheart.” Santi smiles at you and raises his glass. “While I can’t say I understand it, I do support this. Will, you know I love giving you shit but I can honestly say I know you’re a great leader and that you’ll do great things. To you.” He toasts. Everyone else raises their glass as well. Even Xi sees her father raise his and follows suit by slightly raising her little fist in the air, making everyone laugh.

“Long live King William.” Is your reply, with your glass raised in the air. It is a toast you will be making for many decades to come – hopefully – and you will never miss the opportunity for it.

“Long live King William!” Everyone toasts. Will smiles, feeling the love flow through the room. With you and the people he cherishes the most in the room, he’s confident he can do this.

******

Breakfast the next morning is an event, the informal serving in the small dining room apparently a much more comfortable time for the king’s friends. The late king’s valet had agreed to return to his position under King Klaus’s son, so wardrobe was no longer an issue to be dealt with, and the housekeeper had menus for the rest of the week laid at your place at the breakfast table to be approved. “I’ll be approving the menu for the state dinner after the funeral tonight.” You tell Will as his friends begin to chat amongst themselves and coo over baby Xi. “Unless you have any objection, I’d like to make it a menu of your father’s favourite things.”

“I think a menu of all his favorite things is a good choice. A small way to honor him.” Will smiles before yawning. He had stayed up late with his friends last night, catching up and playing cards. You, of course, were the hot topic over the many games of poker. Everyone had been thoroughly impressed with you and were excited that you would be at Will’s side.

“Stayed up late with your friends?” You glance around at the trio but don’t make it obvious that you’re talking about them.

“Oh yeah. I won so many pretzel sticks though.” He chuckles. “I’ll be sure to share the wealth with you if you ever find yourself needing airplane baggies for a snack. How was your night?”

“I went through Elsie’s coronation research, reviewed applications for a lady’s maid and an assistant, and signed off on having the things from my apartment moved into my suite. I’m leaving all my furniture with Elsie in the apartment, so it won’t be as much of an ordeal.” You had been exhausted by the time you got into bed, but getting the work done was essential. Your own assistant starts today and you’ll need them just as much as Will needs Minna.

“Wow. That’s…way more than we did. If you need stuff moved over me and the guys can help.” He offers, knowing they would not say no to helping you out. “Santi had a lot of questions about Miss Thorn and Frankie blushed like crazy when their tour with Elsie was brought up, so, that should be interesting to see if anything happens there. That’s allowed, right? Or are there rules for staff and…regular people?”

“There are rules of conduct for staff and royalty, but nothing otherwise. Your father lifted most of the remaining rules when his valet – your valet – fell in love with the prince’s governess. It would have been a scandal if the king hadn’t blessed the marriage.” And even that was fifteen years ago. Attitudes have greatly relaxed since then, thankfully. “It all has to do with the ability to balance life and work. It just so happens that Minna and Elsie have more demanding jobs than most.”

“I can’t imagine what that’s like to have those roles, but I can tell they love their jobs. I’m glad they’re on our team.” He pauses, “Pope will definitely shoot his shot with Minna but Frankie? I’m not sure. He’s shy and embarrassed about what’s going on with him, so I’m sure he’ll just pine from afar.” He shrugs sadly. Frankie didn’t deserve what he had gone through after Colombia. “If it works out though, I’ll be happy for them. If not, I’ll make sure it doesn’t affect anything going on here.”

“I admire and fear Minna in ways I cannot quite say.” You laugh softly, shaking your head. “But Elsie is my best friend in the world. Frankie seems like a nice man, and whatever they choose to start is up to them, but I will protect her to the ends of the earth.” The way you tilt your head at him is an honest question and nothing more. “Is there anything she should be aware of? A divorce is nothing to be embarrassed by.”

“You’re a good friend, Plum.” He takes your hand. “Frankie’s situation is…tough. We kind of think he only married Jess because he felt like he had to. She gave him an ultimatum and then she got pregnant, so he felt like he was doing the right thing for the baby. I think what bothers him the most is that she up and left while he was gone, and he came back to a completely empty house. Jess just…packed her shit and dropped the baby with Frankie’s mom.” He sighs. “He’s had some addiction stuff too and lost his pilot’s license because of it so he’s not working right now, but he’s trying. That little girl is his entire world and…I don’t know, I think he’s embarrassed because he’s 42 and just lost everything. He’s a good man, he just feels lost right now. I don’t know Elsie’s situation, but I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he’s looking at her.” Will smiles sadly. “That was a lot, I’m sorry. Short answer – yes, but he’s working on it.”

“Els hasn’t had it easy, romance wise.” Holding your coffee cup delicately in front of your mouth to keep the conversation discreet, you turn to give Will your full attention. “She was engaged after college. The wedding was half planned, dress bought, invitations sent, everything. And then she caught him cheating. It pretty much destroyed her confidence for romance for a long time. She’s only just starting again.”

“Poor girl,” Will hums, adding some sugar into his coffee. “All Fish wants is a happily ever after. I know he can seem tough and grizzly looking on the outside, but that man just wants someone to come home to every night. He’s always said that caring for him is a chore, and he needs someone that won’t make him feel that way and now with the baby…it might be harder for him, especially because she’s so young.”

“She’s young, but doesn’t lack maturity.” Twenty-eight must seem forever ago to Frankie – possibly even to Will – but you don’t let that stop you from running your thumb reassuringly over the back of his hand. “And Xiomara is a delight, not a chore. Anyone who would leave that little girl behind doesn’t deserve her, or her father.”

“She’s precious and deserves absolutely everything in the world. Really the only good thing to come out of that relationship. Jess was just…cruel to him; used to hold Xiomara over his head constantly. I can see him and Elsie together, but they need to figure that out for themselves.” He smiles again. “When the time for children comes for us, I will love them unconditionally. They’ll never go a day doubting they have their daddy’s whole heart.”

“How odd do they think it is?” You ask him honestly, glancing at his friends again. They must have talked about you last night – if you had sat up with Elsie and Lisette, he certainly would have been the main topic of conversation the whole time, too. “For your sake I would truly prefer that they not dislike me…I’m just not quite sure what to do besides show them you have my loyalty.” If one day he was also to carry your heart, it would be a miracle worth celebrating in marriages like yours. That he already has your affection is more than you could have asked for.

“They do think the situation is strange, but they have nothing but good things to say about you. They think you’re wonderful and so do I.” A lightbulb goes off in Will’s head. “…Would there be any way for all of us to spend some time together off the property after the funeral? Like go to a pub or something? I think they’d really enjoy that.”

“If Minna finds out I helped you sneak out of the palace, I am toast.” Frowning at the idea of disappointing him has far more to do with the fact that you’ve finally admitted to yourself that you’re smitten with the man than saying ‘no’ to a king. “Give me a little time to work on her…pitch the idea as letting you get to know your people informally. I don’t think I can manage to have us free of guards, but I think I can talk her down to a couple of guards in plain clothes. Would that…be something you might enjoy?”

“Well, I don’t want to risk you getting in trouble, so whatever you think is best for us.” He agrees. “Just let me know where to be and when and I’m your guy. Got something in mind?”

“What are you two whispering about?” Frankie asks, as he sways Xi in his arms. She sometimes hated sitting in one place for too long so he often times had to walk in circles to get her to keep calm. This morning was a bit of a struggle though with her sleep schedule being disrupted. “Shh, mija it’s okay. Do you want Uncle Will?” Xi looked at him with her big brown eyes. “Guess that’s a yes,” He chuckles, handing the baby over. “He’s a natural.” Frankie winks at you.

“We were debating the merits of a little social outing for all of us.” You tell the older man, choosing to ignore the way your stomach flip-flops at the image of Will with a baby in his arms. “After this week is over he’ll have more free time at night, and he thought you might all enjoy something less formal.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be great. As long as someone can watch Xi? I guess I could ask Sandy. Would um, would Elsie be going too?” He asks shyly, reaching out and adjusting the lopsided bow on his daughter’s head. “Not that that’s a deal breaker or anything…”

Will laughs at his friend. Frankie was a lot of things, but subtle was never one of them. “Fish…calm down. We’ll hash out plans later.” Will says as he adjusts the baby in his arms.

“The daycare is attended twenty-four hours a day, but I’m sure if you asked Sandy to look after Xi, she would not mind.” Will’s mother had elected to have her breakfast on a tray in her suite this morning, and you would have to remember to check in on her later and make sure she’s not feeling ill. More than likely it’s just a bit of melancholy or a headache, neither of which would surprise you. Losing her ex-husband cannot be easy on her by any means. “And I’m sure Elsie would be glad to be invited.” You’ll also be checking in on her, of course, to see what sort of interest she has in Frankie. A lot has happened in a very short space of time. “But gentlemen…” Turning slightly lets you address the whole group. “I do have a bit of a favor to ask of all of you, if you don’t mind.”

“Anything, Plum.” Will says quickly – chubby little hands suddenly on his face. It melts your heart to see him with Xi, and how easy it seems to come for him. How despite there being no relation, the two of them had a close bond already.

“Yeah, whatever you need.” Santiago sits up a little straighter in his seat and Benny nods in agreement.

“I’m sorry to have to insist.” And you really do have to insist, if you want things to go perfectly this weekend. “But the royal funeral, state dinner, and the parade are all official functions of the crown. It is a nuisance, but my assistant is having some suits brought in and a tailor, to make sure each one of you has appropriate clothing for official events. As I said to the king last night, think of them as a type of uniform. Formal attire like you once wore in the military.” Many eyes will be focused on the new king’s closest friends, and you trust them to understand the importance of propriety. If Will is seen as wanting in any way, it will severely hinder the peoples’ embracing him and that would make his first year on the throne unnecessarily difficult. “I’ve even asked for a few things for Xi, in case she was feeling fussy and needed to be near her Papa.”

“You’re having suits made for us?” Benny asks. “Like real, fancy suits? Hell yeah. I promise not to spill anything on it.” He salutes you. The other boys agree – most of them had never worn anything fancier than their dress blues, and aside from that really only considered khakis and a button up to be their best clothing.

“Not precisely,” you admit, a little sheepishly after their enthusiasm. “I’ve reached out to a Freidlych designer with a studio here in the city and asked him to bring a few ready-made suits and tuxedos that he will then tailor to fit each of you. It’s normally something we would ask the royal tailor to undertake, but his Majesty is having an entire new wardrobe made, so he is understandably busy.”

“Still,” Benny replies. “That’s pretty fucking cool. Can we keep them?”

“Benjamin, please.” Santi laughs, placing a hand on Benny’s shoulder. “Try to stay calm.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just really excited. Not for the funeral, but if anyone deserves this kind of life, it’s my brother, you know? I’m really excited for him to have this life.” Benny had always looked up to Will since he was small.

Will quickly hands Xi back to Frankie and wraps his little brother in a tight hug. “Thanks bud, I love you too.”

“Forgive me for interrupting, your Majesty.” Minna’s appearance in the doorway is quiet as a cat and just as quick. “The photographer will be arriving any minute and I’m afraid Lady Rochegnac is wanted in the Morning Room.”

“No interruption at all, honey.” Santi smiles. Minna tries to keep a neutral expression on her face, but you can see the tint to her cheeks, know Santi has her attention.

“Right. We should go.” Will says, offering his arm.

“Have fun you two.” Santi smiles before waving at Minna. He watches the three of you make your way to where the photographer will be set up shortly. He bites his lip and turns to his friends. “God she’s incredible.”

“Leave it to Pope to be sexually attracted to organization.” Benny laughs, nudging Santi the way only a little brother really can.

“Can you blame me?” He deadpans. “She looks like she’d steal my soul in all the right ways and then organize my entire life. Who wouldn’t want that?”

“She could step on you in those high heels of hers and you would thank her for it.” Frankie laughs, gently bouncing Xi in his arms. “I’d rather be snuggled than stepped on.”

“She does and I would.” Santi agrees. “Elsie and those sweaters? Girl looks like she’s begging to be snuggled. Go for it, Frank. Bet she’d let you lay your head on her lap and she’d read to you.” He waggles his eyebrows.

“Will’s fiancée’s best friend?” The way Frankie winces is fully dramatic but not insincere. “I don’t have a death wish, man. I mean she’s completely my type but that is a whole messy situation that—” He shakes his head, refocusing on his little girl. “She’s outta my league, hermano.”

“Oh come on, I saw her looking at you during dinner last night.” Benny says. “Frankie, I know you’re dealing with a lot right now with Jess being a massive cunt, but you can’t let her continue to dictate your life. What if this girl is the perfect match for you and you just let it slip by because you’re afraid? That’s not fair to either one of you.”

“He’s right,” Santi chimes in. “What if…what if all of this happened because all of us were supposed to be here? Will is obviously where he’s supposed to be and with who he’s supposed to be with. I’m convinced those two were made for each other with how they act. If I didn’t know the situation, I wouldn’t believe that they’ve only known each other for three fucking days. It’s insane.” He says as he sits on a loveseat.

“You would just pack up your whole lives for this place in a day?” It’s not that Frankie doesn’t see how good this place is. Or how well matched you and Will are. He gets that. But it feels a hell of a lot like rebounding with the cutest girl at the bar after getting dumped. “Look, I’m not saying the Palace and new clothes and gorgeous women aren’t nice. I’m just…just not counting any chickens before they hatch, that’s all.”

“Just be open to it, that’s all.” Santi insists. “And who knows, if I had a reason to stay, I’d sure as hell take it.” He shrugs. They all sit in silence for a few minutes before Elsie comes in. “Good morning,” She smiles warmly. “Minna is busy with the photographer currently, so she asked me to let you all know the tailor is here. We’ll have to reschedule my tour, unfortunately, but that’s alright because evening is the best for a tour of the rose garden anyway.”

“Do we stay in here for do we need to go somewhere else?” Benny asks.

“The tailor is setting up in an empty suite that is big enough to accommodate everyone.” She says. “Oh, and I have a few dress options for the little one.” She said as she lifts up the tiny garment bags in her hand. “If you’ll follow me, please.”

“Where are the portraits being taken?” Santi walks alongside Elsie easily, wanting to keep her chatting and let Frankie relax a little.

“The throne room. Every king and queen have been immortalized in that room for the past two centuries. If you get a chance to look at the portraits you’ll notice the similar art styles up until 100 years ago. They stopped the oil portraits with King Edwin in 1920 and moved to photography since it was easier and the royals didn’t have to sit for so long, but the frames are all custom made by the family that made the originals! They’ve been making ornate frames for the palace for so long, it would feel criminal to go with anyone else.” She smiles. “The garments chosen are all created by a long family line too. Freidlyn is filled with creatures of habit, I suppose.”

“So they’ll have to take more once the coronation happens?” Benny already feels like this royalty stuff is going to make his head spin in circles, but he wants to get it right for his brother. “Once she’s queen, I mean? Like a portrait of both of them?”

“They will! After these initial portraits as well as the wedding portraits, they’ll need one more set, until they have children. The post-coronation portraits will have them with the royal jewels and crowns of Freidlyn. Those portraits will be used on our postage and displayed in government and official buildings here as well as souvenirs, kind of like how England has the royals on those decorative plates and teacups. It’s silly, but the tourism board thinks it’s good for us.” She shrugs as she continues to lead the men to the designated suite. “Oh, I took the liberty of getting a playpen and some toys from the daycare center for the baby so you can have a break.” Elsie tells Frankie.

“Thank you.” Frankie still isn’t totally okay with leaving Xi with strangers yet, no matter how well trained they are, and he’s grateful that Elsie spared the extra thought for him and his daughter. It’s more than her own mother would have done.

“Mademoiselle Poincaré, thank you for delivering these gentlemen safely.” An elegant-looking person in an expertly tailored black suit with a black silk shirt underneath and spiked-heel black leather boots bares the same authority holding a clipboard than Minna Thorn does, but with several extra inches of height. “My name is Jules Sorten, I am Lady Rochegnac’s assistant, and there is lots to do, so I thank you for arriving quickly. Monsieur Miller first, s’il vous plait?” He gestures to a slightly older man picking his way through a variety of suits. “This is Monsieur Ronan. He will be fitting all of you today.”

“My pleasure, Jules. I’ll be over here if you need anything.” Elsie says.

“I am ready. Measure me.” Benny walks up to Monsieur Ronan with his arms open. “Make me fancy.” It’s almost adorable how excited Benny is for his new suit, and he’s determined to take good care of it.

Frankie places Xi in the playpen and she’s instantly enthralled with a canvas doll dressed as a princess. Elsie sits near the playpen, but far enough away to not interfere with Jules’ work. She thinks of what could have been had her fiancé stayed faithful to her – maybe she’d have a little girl of her own to dote on. She smiles at the small baby patting the doll to her chest and Santi notices with a smirk on his face.

“Looks like your alterations will be minimal.” Ronan says with a pin between his lips once Benny is in the suit picked for him. “This is good.” A few pins in place and Benny’s suit is nearly perfect – the alterations would be done quickly and easily.

“Hear that guys? Minimal and good.” Benny laughs, standing as still as he possibly can.

“I could make a joke…” Santi says, “but there is a lady present, so I’ll hold off.”

“Monsieur Morales?” Ronan beckons the next man forward while helping the king’s younger brother out of his carefully pinned jacket.

“That’s me.” Frankie says, stepping around Santi and onto the little platform that sat in front of the three large mirrors in the suite. He slips on the black jacket easily, standing still while Ronan puts the pins in place.

“So,” Santi sprawls out in a chair beside Elsie while he waits his turn. “What exactly does a state dinner entail? Am I going to have to keep these monkeys in line by force?”

“Well, the king and the future queen will be at the head of the table and parliament will take this time to introduce the future king to everyone as well as go over what his duties will be, and which of King Klaus’ business he will have to continue. It’s fascinating, really, and there will be so much food you won’t know what to do with yourselves.” Elsie pauses. “…do you think you’ll need to keep them in line?” Will’s friends had seemed well-mannered and nice so far, but would there be an issue?

“A gentle reminder that whooping and pounding the table probably isn’t appropriate in a palace,” Santi smiles reassuringly. “We’re fairly informal guys, and we want to make sure everything is perfect for Will, that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah I don’t think Parliament would particularly care for anything other than polite applause or an ‘allez’ during a toast.” Elsie stands quick to check on Xi, who was still enthralled by the little doll. “So maybe letting them know that would be a good idea.” She says, reaching down to brush back some of Xi’s wild curls - definitely inherited from her father.

“Frankie’s a pretty good dancer.” Santi throws it out there hopefully, watching Elsie dote on his goddaughter with a smile. “His sisters made sure of that. I don’t know if there’s dancing at these things, but he can hold his own.”

Elsie blushes, “Oh, I mean there will be some musical accompaniment but it’s not often that people will get up and dance, but maybe?” She giggles. “Why? Did he say something about wanting to go dancing? I can recommend some places nearby.”

“Not exactly.” He admits, clearing his throat a little. “But I know that if you wanted to show him some places, he’d love to go.” There’s just no way Frankie will get his ass in gear and actually ask Elsie out unless they’re here for like six months, and Santiago Garcia considers himself an excellent fucking wingman when his buddies need him.

“I could definitely think of some places to show him.” She smiles shyly. Frankie was handsome and she wanted to get to know him better. “You know, if he wanted to find a job out here it would be so easy for him…” Elsie glances over at him. “All of you, actually.” She adds quickly before getting flustered. “Just, you know, if you found it difficult to leave after being in such a beautiful place for a while.” She chuckles.

“Honestly?” Santi shrugs and places a kiss in his goddaughter’s hair. “Most of us don’t have a lot to go back to when we leave here. Benny’s lifeline is his brother, and Frankie’s whole life is this little bebita. My family is all over the world and I’m already at my fuc—sorry,” he grimaces. “At my wit’s end with this new job. We could stand a little bit of all this Freidlych goodness.”

“Well, should you all decide that Freidlyn is where you belong, I can help with housing. The palace owns some cottages on the outskirts of town that are meant for noble and royal family members, but I think Minna and myself can talk parliament into letting you move into them, if you’d like. They’re all fully furnished and have solar panels. Actually, here.” She pulls out her phone and opens up an album. “I have photos on my phone if you’d like to take a look.” She hands the device over to him. “They’ve all been maintained really well since they were built in the early 1800s.”

“Jesus…Is this where you live?” Santi whistles low, scrolling through the pictures of the gorgeous estate houses. “Ya know…my great-great-great-abuelo a few hundred years back was Spanish nobility. Think that gets me an in?” He jokes, unable to take his eyes off the photos. “I mean, I’m descended from his mistress, but it’s gotta count for something right?”

“Oh, no I have a flat in town.” Elsie says. “I don’t think it would count for you, unfortunately, but maybe Minna can work her magic. That woman can make anyone say yes to her. It’s amazing.” Santi hands the phone back to Elsie and she checks her messages – there’s one from you asking how it was going. She types a quick reply that it’s going well, and the suits are fitting perfectly as far as she could tell.

“Wouldn’t take me much to agree to whatever she wanted.” The line is out of Santi’s mouth with a wink, and he saunters off when the tailor calls his name.

Elsie laughs and shakes her head. Men are impossible, she thinks as Frankie walks over to her. “The suit looked great on you.” She smiles. “I laid out the options for the baby if you’d like to take a look at them.”

“Thanks.” Frankie blushes, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously before looking over at the nicest baby clothes he’s ever seen in his life. Are there designer baby clothes? Because that’s what all of this looks like. “You’re really an angel for helping with all of this.”

“It’s no trouble, really. I enjoy it.” She tells him honestly. “I was just telling Santiago about housing options here should any of you fall in love with Freidlyn enough to stay. “I think I can convince Minna to be on board if you, Santiago or Benny decided to live here…Freidlyn is a wonderful place to raise a child.”

“I’m sure it is.” He’s only seen the airport and palace so far, but if his baby girl’s life included a palace then things would be pretty fucking good. “Santi’s all ready to just pack it in and move. I think the second he laid eyes on Minna, that was the clincher.”

“Oh, I suspect it’s mutual admiration. Santiago is exactly the type of man Minna Thorn goes for.”

“He’s a good guy.” Frankie nods his head, playing with the hem of a black linen baby skirt that had a matching onesie with a cute little collar on it. “They all are. We give each other crap but that’s only out of love.”

“You are too.” Elsie places her hand over his. “I can tell you all love each other like brothers, and it’s really nice to see. Everyone has noticed how much the king appreciates you being here for him. He lit up as soon as he knew you all had arrived.”

“Will’s been there for all of us through everything.” Frankie explains, trying not to stare at the place where she’s touching him but somehow also not able to look away. “Didn’t even tell us when his fiancée broke up with him a couple of years ago because Benny had lost a fight pretty bad and was taking it really hard. He put everything into training with his brother and ended up telling us two weeks after it happened when Pope opened his big mouth to ask if Stacy was coming to the next fight.”

“His selflessness is what will make him a great leader and greater partner. He's so much like his father in that way.” Elsie squeezes his hand. “I have to ask though…he’s fond of her right? I’m not imagining things? The way they look at each other is just…” She looks away with a dreamy look in her eye. “Romantic. I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me the way William looks at her.”

“He was practically moping last night when Benny told him he thought it was too soon to make a move.” Frankie confides. Though Ben Miller wasn’t typically known for his restraint, he had reminded Will that this woman was the rest of his life and he needed to think about the long-term. “He had us brainstorming proposal methods during our poker game.” Frankie sighs, trying not to look at Elsie too directly when he does so and give himself away. “You’re young, Elsie. You’ll find someone worthy of you. And if you don’t, I’m sure there are plenty of unworthy guys who will still line up around the block for a chance.”

“Thanks, Frankie.” She smiles at him. “I’m glad William is taking this seriously. She’s very smitten with him and he’s really good with her, and for her, if I’m being honest…so what were the proposal methods?” She gets up quickly and walks over to a small cart near the door, pouring herself and Frankie fresh cups of coffee.

“Santi said he should do it in bed.” Frankie rolls his eyes after thanking her for the coffee – whatever it is they brew here is seriously amazing. “Which completely goes against the slow-and-respectful theory. Benny said an after dinner walk in the garden, which is sweet, but Will thought he could come up with something more creative.”

Elsie laughs at the look on Frankie’s face. “Hm, well, while the bed idea is interesting, I don’t think it’s probable for this situation. If it were me, I think I’d opt for the rose garden, or up on the lookout point up in the mountains. You can see the entire palace grounds and the city from there. There’s also the option of a carriage ride around the lake, or a nice boat ride…” She pauses. “Sorry, I’m a bit of a romantic and I’ve thought of scenarios like this a lot. She’ll happy with anything though, as long as he asks with his heart. That’s all that really matters anyway, right?” She takes a sip of her coffee.

“Sure it is.” Frankie eyes her with soft amusement over the confession to being a romantic. They could all tell that right away – just from the way she talked at dinner last night – and it cracked his poor, deadened heart in ways he hated to admit. “But you’re her best friend. You’ve got to know her fantasy proposal, right?”

“Yeah, but don’t laugh, okay?” She gives him her best puppy eyes. “There’s a butterfly conservatory not far from here that we’ve been going to since we were little and it has really nice walking paths throughout, and at the very end there’s a big fountain with a waterfall and she always comments about how perfect this spot is. Every time we’ve gone a butterfly has always landed on her shoulder. She thinks this spot is where she’s ‘supposed to see her fate’ so…maybe that’s it. Maybe a proposal in front of that waterfall with all the butterflies and fairy lights is the fate she’s been destined for.” Elsie tells him confidently. “Or Disney World, but there’s no time for that, unfortunately.”

“Elsie, you’re a genius.” Frankie beams at her, striking out on instinct to give the small woman a tight hug. “He wants it to be so right for her. To show how much he appreciates that she’s sticking with him.” He doesn’t let go quickly, the hug lingering for just a moment. “He thinks it should be her on the throne, and he’s determined to make sure she gets it.”

She’s surprised by Frankie’s hug, but grasps onto him tight, not wanting it to end too soon. He’s warm and smells of laundry detergent, cologne, and something just Frankie. “I can make some calls and have it reserved when he’s ready to ask. It’s beautiful at night with all the lights on.” She pulls away but doesn’t break eye contact. “They both deserve to be on that throne.”

“He doesn’t know his own worth sometimes.” Frankie swallows, forgetting for a split second if he’s talking about himself or his friend. “I think the right person will help him remember. Hopefully it’s her.”

“I have a good feeling about it.” Elsie says, and maybe she means about her and Frankie as well. “I think it’s a good match; written in the stars and all that poetic imagery.” She smiles.

“I hope so.” He smiles just a little bit more softly, pulled away by the babbling insistence of his baby girl.

“She’s absolutely beautiful, by the way.” Elsie gets off the couch and kneels down in front of the playpen where Xi is babbling. “Aren’t you?” The baby girl reaches her arms out like she wants to be picked up and Elsie pauses for a second before picking her up and settling her on her hip. “What dress do you think, little princess?” Elsie points to the dresses laid out near her father.

“She’s just lucky she didn’t get my nose.” He huffs, watching as Xi continues to babble and grab at a black romper onesie with lots of ruffles and frills.

“But your nose is wonderful.” Elsie tells him as she grabs the frilly romper for Xi. “This one? Yeah, this is a good one.” She coos at her.

“Are you seeing this?” Benny whispers to Santi, the two of them on the other side of the room sipping their coffee after being done with their fittings.

“I don’t think they have any idea that anyone else is still here.” Santi shakes his head, knowing his friend was just as gone for Elsie as he was for Minna.

“You guys are all gonna get married and ditch me.” Benny pouts, refilling his coffee cup again.

“Never, little man. Never gonna happen.” Santi ruffles Benny’s hair. “I’m sure there’s a stunning girl out here for you too. That can be one of our final missions, yeah?” He chuckles.

“You and your damn missions, Pope.” Benny shakes his head.

“Hey,” Pope smirks. “This will be a damn good one, okay? Benny’s true love is out there somewhere and it’s our job to make sure she doesn’t get scared off too fast.”

______

NA: @absurdthirst @peachtreemoonshine @xoxabs88xox @luminescentlily @babypink224221

My Masterlist!

#Charlie Hunnam #Charlie Hunnam character fanfiction #Charlie Hunnam fanfic #Will Miller #Will Miller x reader #Will Miller x you #Will Miller x female reader #Triple Frontier #Triple Frontier fanfic #Princess Diaries AU #Royalty AU #William Ironhead Miller #Freidlych for Life #Freidlyn #arranged marriage

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