#king charles iii fic
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Christmas lights
Up above candles on air flicker
Oh, they flicker, and they flow
And I'm up here holding onto
All those chandeliers of hope
And like some drunken Elvis singing
I go singing out of tune
Singing how I always loved you, darling
And I always will
Oh, when you're still waiting for the snow to fall
It doesn't really feel like Christmas at all
Still waiting for the snow to fall
It doesn't really feel like Christmas at all
⁓ Coldplay
14.12.1973, London
The festive baubles glittered and glimmered as couples danced and friends raised their glasses while the DJ played one Christmas hit after another. This year’s Christmas hit “Merry Xmas” by Slade had already been played more than once but nobody seemed to be sick of it as of now. This was one of the most glamorous Christmas parties of the season and everybody had dressed to impress. Camilla didn’t make an exception, she looked fabulous in a dark green sequined dress with a low neckline and shimmered wonderfully as she swirled on the dance floor and moved her body to the rhythm of the music. Andrew had very much looked like a proud husband when the couple had arrived but as the clock hand moved past midnight he couldn’t be seen anymore. At least not by Camilla, but she appeared to be perfectly happy. As usual, she was the life of the party and didn’t need to worry about company or a dance partner. Friends and socialites had rallied around her and people threw their heads back in laughter as she cracked jokes and made naughty remarks. As usual, she was one of the stars of the season, and rightly so.
Charles, however, had seen Andrew in the arms of another busty blonde about half an hour ago, before they had disappeared out of his sight as well. The venue was crowded, but he had kept eagle eyes on both, Camilla, and Andrew. He had tried to concentrate on his dance partners, but he had ignored all of the flirting attempts as his eyes had been stuck. Stuck on her. The only lady he was interested in. Still.
But they hadn’t spoken a word tonight, they hadn’t even greeted each other, there just hadn’t been any opportunity – Charles wasn’t even sure she had noticed his attendance, but his arrival usually meant lots of ‘ahs’ and ‘ohs’, so she probably had… Maybe it was best as it would cause too much heart-pain and would be too awkward anyway, but Charles was still hoping for at least one little opportunity to say “hi!”. It would be an early Christmas present as they hadn’t spoken since Anne’s wedding to Mark on his 25th birthday, exactly one months ago. What a dreadful day it had been, Charles sighed, what a dreadful year actually.
Camilla’s hair fell in short, soft waves, framing her beautiful face. She looked simply perfect from head to toe and, once again, Charles couldn’t understand how Andrew could cheat on someone like Camilla. They weren’t even married for six months. Andrew had the freaking audacity to get lucky enough to marry Camilla and not stopping his philandering. What the hell was wrong with this man?! He just couldn’t bear thinking about it. If he spent just one other thought on Andrew, he’d go mad.
After another endless 20 minutes of upbeat Christmas songs, he finally spotted Camilla walking over to one of the waiters with a silly Father Christmas hat on, probably asking for her signature drink, a gin tonic with a slice of lemon. This was the moment Charles realized he was in a desperate need for a drink, too, excused himself from the girl whose name he’d already forgotten again and hustled to the same waiter, slowing down when he came closer.
Camilla was taken by surprise, Charles could see it the second their eyes met, and she bobbed down in a curtsey, lowering her eyes. “Hello, Your Royal Highness,” she said formally, feeling slightly ridiculous by the formality of the situation.
“Hello you,” Charles replied way more intimate and moved slightly forward to place a soft kiss on both her cheeks. “Nice to see you again.”
In fact, it was much more than “nice” to see her again, to inhale her smell even in that crowded room, to feel the warmth of her soft hand, the tickle of her cheeky curls… Charles knew he shouldn’t feel that way about another man’s wife, but he couldn’t help it. This time last year she had still been his…
“Very nice indeed.” Camilla almost looked shy and blushed but found her usual confident self again within the blink of an eye. “I seem to have lost my husband about two hours ago,” she tried to joke and ignored the queasiness in the pit of her stomach. Five months into her marriage she had realized that being married hadn’t really changed Andrew and that, though they were actually experiencing wedded bliss, he still couldn’t keep his eyes and, unfortunately, hands off other women.
For a moment, Charles considered telling her that he’d seen her disappearing with the blonde beauty, but then decided against it as he didn’t want to ruin her Christmas or, even worse, hurt her. Instead, he opted to awkwardly compliment her, kneading his hands, and resisting the urge to touch her again. “You look wonderful tonight.”
Camilla flashed him a smile, murmuring “Thank you!”, and in a rush of intimacy pushed him over to one of the tables in the corner where it was a bit quieter. Unfortunately, it was before either of them realised that they had ended up in the lover’s lane with couples around them passionately snogging and even more. “Oh my God!”, Camilla giggled, looking around, well noticing that Charles’ face had turned red. “I seem to have for-“
“Kiss me!” Charles suddenly declared and Camilla wasn’t sure if she’d understood him correctly. However, before she was able to give him an asking or indignant glance, she felt soft lips on hers, just for a millisecond, so quick she couldn’t be sure it had been reality or a just a wild dream, a vision of what her most inner self was secretly wishing for.
It must have been the gin, Camilla decided. Why on earth should she wish to kiss her ex-beau?! She was happily married to the man she had always wanted to marry, and they had loads of fun trying to make a baby at every given opportunity. “Would you like to dance?”, Charles asked innocently and grabbed her arm to push her to the dance floor where people were shaking their legs to the sound of “I wish it could be Christmas everyday” by Wizzard, another top 10 hit that, for Charles’ taste, had been played more than enough tonight. But it didn’t matter, he had Camilla in his arms and swirled her around, he had kissed her, only a millisecond and so quick she hadn’t grasped it, but he had tasted her lips and they had felt as soft as last year. He would later regret it, he already knew, he would die of heartache and the pain of missing her even more than before. He would spend Christmas just as depressed as always and count the hours till he could be back onboard that bloody ship again that would take him to shores far away from her, but not the love for her he carried in his heart and couldn’t let go. It didn’t particularly help that the DJ now opted for “I Love You Love Me Love” by Garry Glitter, who sang of a couple whose love had won against all odds. Charles tried not to listen to the lyrics but solely focus on the music instead, but having Camilla’s body so close brought back memories of times when he thought he might be able to call her his wife one day. Maybe if he’d been brave enough to ask her last year, on his 24th birthday maybe… But who on earth married aged 24 in this time and age, especially as a prince?! There was no use in dwelling in the past, Charles knew, but it hurt so very much.
“In the mood for another drink?”, Camilla asked when she found they were dancing a bit too familiar and intimate when a slow song started to play.
Charles tried to hide his disappointment, but knew she was right, so he nodded. “Okay.”
“Martini, Sir?”, she winked and added “Shaken, not stirred?” That made him laugh with his eyes, Camilla noticed relieved. She didn’t want to hurt him, this had never been her intention, but she’d made the right decision for herself with marrying Andrew, hadn’t she? Charles had been a fling, Andrew was her true love, the man she was destined to be with. Two or three times when Andrew had come home late on a Friday evening and had smelt of another women’s perfume, she’d caught herself thinking that this wouldn’t have happened with Charles, that she’d be more appreciated… but she’d made the right decision, she had snatched her fetching soldier, and she was so excited for her first Christmas as a wife. She’d already planned everything from the dinner to the music to the decorations. It would simply be perfect…
His hair a bit too accurate, Andrew suddenly appeared behind Charles, a bright grin upon his face. “Hello poppet,” he greeted his wife, placing a fierce kiss on her mouth before greeting Charles with a small bow of his head. “Nice to see you, Sir. I hope my wife hasn’t bothered you too much with talking about her plans for Christmas all night…”
“Not at all.”, Charles stated, smiling at Camilla, and giving Andrew a stern look.
“Well… good…” Andrew commented and casually took a huge sip out of his whiskey glass, emptying it and putting it on the next bar table. “C’mon, poppet, let’s rock the dance floor,” he declared then, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and winking at her.
Camilla gave Charles an apologetic glance, detached herself from her husband for a moment and placed swift kisses on both of Charles’ cheeks. “I’ll see you… Happy Christmas!”, she said before being drawn away by her husband onto the dance floor.
For a few moments Charles masochistically watched them kissing and dancing like lovers (or newly married couples) do before emptying his glass with one sip as well, cursing the day he was born. Or rather the day Andrew had been born, he wasn’t sure yet. Without taking another look at Camilla and her husband or anyone else again, Charles left the party, knowing he would live from the few moments he’d had with her today till the next time he’d see her again.
#queen camilla fic#queen camilla#king charles iii fic#king charles#king charles lll#king charles fic#andrew parker bowles#royal fic#royal fanfiction#coldplay#christmas lights
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Across Every Universe - Part 2
Well, I didn't expect this work to get this long. It was only supposed to be short but then I worked on it all day and for multiple hours on end?? I guess I just enjoy this concept so much! These are basically the stories I wanted to put in last time, but they needed their own chapter to truly shine.
I know people asked for Arthur and reader romance, but To Do Is To Dare has always been a racing fic first and romance second. I tried to add in all the people I could without going crazy with the plot line or it would have gotten out of hand (or more than it already is). There is a lot of Max and Charles (my two favorite boys on the grid).
If anyone has anything against Lestappen - there's the door :)
Please enjoy :)
Earth 33891
“Please stand for his Majesty King Max Emilian Verstappen, King of the Netherlands and Prince of Orange.”
Max always hated these announcements. Like, why did they have to always say his middle name and all the titles that came with it? He put on a gentle smile and waved to the crowds around him. Thankfully, his dressers had decided to forgo the kingly robes and opted for a nice suit with his pins. Definitely fitting for the Dutch Grand Prix.
This would be his ninth to attend since taking the throne at 18-years-old after his father passed away. The kind always enjoyed seeing the Orange Army at the home race.
After greeting everyone, he was led to the special box. Apparently, more than one royal had decided to attend as well. Max’s shoulders loosened when his eyes landed on a familiar figure.
“Charles!”
Charles Marc Herve Perceval Leclerc, The Sovereign Prince of the Principality of Monaco. Max was always glad that his mother only chose one middle name for him instead of three.
The prince’s green eyes widened at the sight of the Dutchman. He waved off whoever he was speaking to and all but glided across the room. The two forwent the formalities and brought each other into a hug.
Max leaned back a bit to look the Monegasque in the eye.
“What are you doing here? Monaco not enough for you?”
There was a playful glint in his eyes as Charles rolled his. The brunet gestured to a plush couch in the corner, one that Max was excited to sit in.
Charles began to speak, a small smile on his face, “Well as you know, my brother is currently dating one of the drivers on the grid. And it is her home race so Arthur wanted to come watch.”
Max nodded, understanding perfectly. He knew exactly who Charles was talking about.
Y/n L/n, the only female driver, who currently was working on her fourth World Champion.
“And where is your brother now?”
“He’s in the garage,” Charles rolled his eyes. He had wanted to go, but an ambassador had insisted that he needed to talk to the prince.
“Why don’t we head there. I always want to say hello to my race winner.”
Now, Max and Y/n had a very loving sibling relationship. The king had watched her grow up karting and made sure to sponsor her and support her through her career. Without his support, the girl would not have been able to continue. Yet, when you put the royal Dutch crest on your Formula 3 car, someone has to know that it means something.
This would be her 4th season in Red Bull, having been 19 when she joined in 2019. She was only 20 when she won her first World Championship, breaking the record for the youngest ever to dominate the sport.
Now she was 24 and is on a path to win her fourth in only five races if she keeps up the winning streak. Max was only older by 3 years, yet he watched over her like a very protective older brother.
He and Charles had made their way down to the pitlane, much to their advisors’ chagrin. They passed by the Mercedes garage to say hello to King Lewis Hamilton III and then George Russell, Duke of Sussex. The two Brits had been friends or well, colleagues, with the other two reigning monarchs for quite some time. They were currently backing Kimi Antonelli and Mick Schumacher, the current driver line up for Mercedes.
Right next to the silver garage stood a very orange and bright one. Max was excited to see Lando Norris, Duke of York also in attendance. He was very close with the two Aussie drivers, Oscar Piastri and Daniel Ricciardo.
Down the line was Williams, who was attending to a very eager Logan Sargeant, the President of the United States’ kid. Max was fond of the blond and often said hello to him whenever he got the chance in diplomatic settings.
But finally, they were able to reach the big navy garage. Max could definitely pick up Arthur’s almost French accent everywhere. But, his ears were tuned to the sound of your Dutch accent that was similar to his.
“Geitje!” he called out, finding your blond hair against the navy racing suit.
You looked over your shoulder, pausing the conversation with your boyfriend. You rolled your eyes when you saw Max in his kingly splendor. You took a few steps toward the fellow Dutch and gave him a hug.
“I told you to quit calling me that. I’m not a kid anymore, or was never a goat for that matter.”
Charles took this moment to catch up with his brother.
Max looked down at you fondly. “You’ll always be that small kid whose suit was two sizes too big on her.”
You honestly wanted to cry, but you kept the tears in. There was a race that you needed to win.
“Are you going to give me my trophy this year?”
“Don’t I every year?”
You looked up in mock thought. “Well, there was that one year that you had appendicitis and your mom gave me my trophy.”
Max lightly nudged you. “That was one year, let it go.”
You grumbled. “Well I hope that someone won’t break my trophy this year.”
Your teammate, Ollie Bearman, popped his head up from where he was looking at his tyres.
“It was one year Y/n! One year!”
You giggled at the disgruntled yells from the British Driver. Ollie had been one of your favorite teammates.
Your first year, you were paired with the golden boy himself, Sebastian Vettel, before he retired with one last championship. And then your first year as world champion, you were paired with Oscar Piastri before he left for McLaren. Ollie had been your teammate for the past two years, but you had a feeling that he’d stick around for more than a year.
You got the heads up that the race would be starting soon. You turned back to Max.
“Are you staying here or do you have to go?”
Max had a mischievous glint in his eyes and was about to reply before being interrupted.
“Actually, their royal highnesses need to return to the royal box.”
Max fought the urge to roll his eyes. You only laughed and pushed him in the direction of the exit.
“Go, I’ll see you at the top.”
“Blijf veilig, alsjeblieft,” Max softly pleaded.
He really hated that you put your life on the line every weekend for the job that you loved. He remembers the first time you had a terrifying crash when you were unconscious until they got you to the hospital. He was told that you probably wouldn’t wake up. However, you defied the odds and were back in the seat for the next race.
You responded, just as gentle, “Voor jou, mijn koning, altijd.”
When Max left, he turned around one last time and witnessed you giving Arthur a quick kiss before he put your helmet on. It was something that the two of you had been doing since you started dating almost two years ago.
The Dutch king was back to walking with Charles to the box.
“So, when is he proposing.”
He hadn’t expected an answer, but was surprised when he got one.
Charles gave Max a look. “They’re actually going to a restaurant, and he plans to propose tonight.”
Max’s eyes widened at the confession. But, he got over it quickly before gently smiling. You deserved happiness, and you found that in his closest friend’s brother.
“So will she have to stop racing for royal duties?” the blond questioned.
Charles shook his head. “Non. Arthur will step down.”
Max clapped him on the back. “Guess you and Alexandra need to start with some heirs huh?”
Charles squinted up at him. “Says the man who currently needs to propose as well.”
The prince got the last laugh as he left Max stuttering for a comeback.
You won the race like Max knew you would. The king watched as you held your head up high as the Dutch National Anthem played loudly through the crowds. He saw the crowds of orange, the only ones rivaling the red Tifosi at Monza.
The crowds were shouting, “De Langverwachte! Onze kleine leeuw!”
The Long Awaited.
Their Little Lion.
Max had always wished for a champion from his home country. Something to ode back to the sport he loved as a kid. His wish came true in the form of you. People talked as the king publicly backed the only female driver on the grid. But he knew that you were something special. He was there as you took the championship from Vettel in the last lap of the 2020 season fair and square. Obviously he was thankful that there was no safety car to ruin your race of any kind. You had coped brilliantly against your older teammate and your talent truly showed.
Max was given the signal to head out with the hand painted trophy. He was honestly kind of scared to drop it. But he made it across the stage and handed it out to you.
You proudly took the trophy from Max after you bowed in respect. He may have been your friend, but he was your king first.
The ceramic trophy was held high once it was safely in your hands. Jokingly you hugged it tight as you gently stepped down off the podium. Ollie gawked at your childishness before spraying you with the champagne.
With trophy set down a nice ways away, you took your own bottle. Except, instead of spraying Ollie, you pointed it at Max, whose jaw was on the floor as you came after him with the liquid.
If you were having fun now, you wouldn’t expect what was coming later that night.
And you said yes.
Earth 12399
“Zusje!”
Your eyes widened at the familiar squeaky and young voice. You turned your whole body away from your race engineer to only be taken down in the knees. Once you were on the floor, you laps was immediately filled with a small body that had bleach blond hair and bright blue eyes.
“Maxy, Ik heb je gemist Kleintje!”
“Uh Y/n, is everything good?” Charles’s voice sounded from above. You stared back at your teammate in the red overalls. You grabbed under the child’s arms and hoisted him up along with yourself.
“Yep! Charles meet Max. Max meet Charlie.”
Max’s small eyes widened before he tucked himself in your neck. Your hand came up and rubbed his back as you cooed. You turned back to Charles.
“He’s a bit shy in front of his favorite driver.”
You poked Max’s side and his giggles filled the room. The small one turned his head and peered at the Monegasque whose eyes were wide, looking at the child in his teammate’s arms.
“Didn’t know you had a kid.”
Your jaw dropped at his statement.
“He’s not my kid, idiot. He’s my brother,” you hissed, lightly bouncing Max up and down as you swayed side to side.
“Oooohhhh.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah oh. I’m younger than you.”
“One night stand?”
“Charles!”
The brunet laughed loudly, making Max giggle a bit with him. You looked down into his blue eyes.
“Oh so you think that’s funny hm? I’m getting bullied.”
Max only giggled more before pointing at Charles.
“Rari?”
You lovingly stared at him in your arms. “Yep, Rari.” You saw how Charles was staring at Max. “You want to hold him?”
Charles dropped everything (only his water bottle) and reached out to take Max. Once he was in Charles’s arms, Max immediately rested his head on his shoulder and gripped the red suit. You smiled fondly at the two.
“He’s so small,” Charles whispered after seeing the kid’s eyes close in slumber.
You ruffled the spiky blond hair. “Yeah, he’s only 3 though. Full of wonder.”
“Y/n!”
Ah, there was your mother. You looked over and saw Sophie walking with your other sister Victoria. Thankfully, your dad was nowhere to be found. After you found out what he had done to Max, you put in a restraining order against him immediately.
It was a hard discussion with your mom when you told her that she needed to divorce him. Tears were shed and hearts were broken. But, you never wanted to see another bruise on your younger brother again.
It was fine if he did that to you. But to Max?
Jos wouldn’t stand a chance against your anger. He had shaped you to be like him.
A racer. A winner. The best.
But being the best wasn’t supposed to be the most important anymore. And if he wanted you to be like him, then he’ll get his own anger thrown back into his face. You remembered how your fist met his eye after you found Max alone with him one night. An ugly purple thing covered Max’s tiny wrist and there was a scratch on his face.
You had just returned home from a triple header and wanted to surprise your family. Only, you came home to Max’s screams of terror and Jos Verstappen yelling. You didn’t think, you just did. Sophie and Victoria returned home to multiple police cars and an ambulance in front of the house. When they finally were told what happened, they found you covering Max’s body with your arms as you spoke to one of the paramedics. A blanket was draped around your shoulders and a bruise was forming on your face as well.
After that, you moved your entire family to Monaco with you. Your house was plenty bit and you only shared it with Charles whenever he came over to play FIFA. But now, whenever he wanted to play, you insisted on going to his house.
It might have been to protect your family. Or it might have had to do with a certain handsome brother that Charles had.
Definitely the first one.
Hence why Charles had never met Max beforehand. But that also didn’t stop the little gremlin from choosing Charles as his favorite driver and not his sister.
It’s not like you were bitter or anything.
You walked toward your family and gave the two women a hug.
“I’m glad that you could come today!” you told them, truly happy at their arrival. It wasn’t like it was a big race. You had already won the championship last week, which sadly they weren’t able to make it. But Max was still up past his bedtime when you got home after. The kid sleepily muttered that he was glad you won, even though you had beaten Charles. Yet, you reminded him that Charles had won the year before and it was sissy’s turn.
Sophie looked at Max in Charles’s arms. “He’s so comfortable. I honestly thought he’d be scared of men after what happened.”
Victoria nodded in agreement.
You crossed your arms. “I think that Max knows that dad wasn’t a good man. And well, he still loves Lando though.”
“Is that Max?”
Speaking of.
Max’s head jerked up from Charles’s shoulder at the familiar voice. His little head swerved in the direction of the papaya clad driver.
“Lanno!”
Max started to squirm in the captive arms. Charles quickly set him down, not wanting him to fall. Max immediately ran to the Briton, who picked him up with ease. At the sight of the two, Charles pouted.
You knocked him with your shoulder. “Don’t’ worry, you’re still his favorite. He bought Max a toy McLaren for his birthday and Max demanded that I paint it red and add a 16 on the side.”
Charles seemed to gleam with pride at the confession.
“Don’t tell Lando though. He’d be devastated.”
What Lando didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
“Hey little man. You ready to watch the race?”
Max’s head bobbed quickly.
“Are you going to watch Lanno win?”
At that, Max shook his head making Lando’s eyes widened.
“Little Verstappen I am hurt.” Lando clutched his hand to his heart in mock hurt. Max only stared at him while the McLaren driver put on a bit of a show.
Charles piped up from beside you. “Max, is Charlie going to win?”
Max, once again, shook his head. Now that made you confused, because Max always cheered for Charles. You cocked your head as you looked at your brother.
“Then who Maxy?”
The boy shyly pointed at you before muttering, “Zusje gaat jullie allemaal verslaan.”
Not that made you laugh out loud, causing even more confusion to the two male drivers. You covered your mouth as you continued to laugh. Sophie and Victoria laughing as well.
You smirked at your rival and teammate.
“He said I’m going to kick your asses.”
Max gasped as he heard your words.
“Bad words!”
Max pouted as he was put down by Lando. His little legs ran to you and his arms stretched out wanting you to pick him up. You squatted and scooped him up. Your arms tightened around him as he tried his best to hug you.
“Sorry for the bad words kid.”
“’S ok,” he slurred, getting even more tired. It was definitely his nap time. And it was time to get in your car. You handed him back to Sophie, who gave you a kiss on your head as you stooped. You gave a quick hug to Victoria before going back to kiss Max’s head.
“I’ll win for you ok?”
Obviously, he couldn’t hear you, but you would say it anyway. You turned away from your family to get ready.
“Going soft on me L/n?” Lando quipped, making his way out of your garage.
You discreetly flipped him off, to which he laughed at as he left. It took about 30 minutes to get in the car and get everything ready. You swerved your head, making sure the helmet was tight. Your eyes flitted about the garage and caught sight of your family again. Max was now wide awake and waving at you.
Your gloved hand reached out and displayed your fingers wide. The little boy reached over in his mom’s arms and clapped your hand with his small one. You were given the signal that it was time and drove off once Sophie was out of the way.
Her and Max watched as you rounded the corner in your red Ferrari, out of sight.
Sophie leaned down and kissed her youngest’s head.
“Mijn baby, zal zus winnen?”
Max’s small voice was just loud enough for her to hear.
“Ja mama, sij is kampioen.”
Earth 9596
(btw - I made the max pic because no one has good edits of him in a ferrari suit)
“Scuderia Ferrari Signs Y/n L/n for the 2024 Season”
“Ferrari Mistake? The Formula 1 Team Signs the Youngest Driver to Date”
“Ferrari Becomes the First Formula 1 Team to Sign Female Driver”
“Former F1 Champion Lorenzo Alessandrino Backs Goddaughter as Her Race Engineer”
“How Will Verstappen React to His Younger Teammate on the Track?”
You hadn’t known what to expect when you arrived at the paddock first thing on Saturday morning. You had convinced Lorenzo to bring you early so you could at least avoid some of the crowds, if not all. However, it seemed like everyone else liked that plan as well, and the paddock was full.
You hung back near Enzo as the two of you walked side by side. Your hands gripped your backpack straps hard, turning your knuckles almost stark white. Thankfully, your sunglasses kept your wide and scared eyes from the public. It wasn’t that you were scared of people. It’s what you thought that they thought about you that made you nervous.
Just 17 and baby faced.
Something that wasn’t heard of in 2024. Yet, with older drivers retiring back and forth, the FIA had to make new changes to deal with the need of rookie drivers. Hence why Lorenzo pushed to have Ferrari sign you as early as possible. You basically went from karting, to Formula 2 and didn’t even start your second season.
It came as a shock when Lewis Hamilton finally retired after only one year at Ferrari. You had thought that he’d want to get one more championship to make it to 9. But, life throws curveballs and it was headed straight to you.
Now you had to face your new teammate, a champion himself, Max Verstappen. You let out a sigh of relief when you noticed that he was talking to Charles Leclerc and Fernando Alonso. The two black Mercedes polos stood out in contrast to Max’s red one. You took a quick glance at the two drivers and realized that they were already watching you.
Your cheeks heated up as you quickened your steps to get to the garage faster. Once you were in the safety of the garage, you let out a deep sigh.
Lorenzo looked at you with a sad smile. He knew you were going to be overwhelmed for the entire day. He took his backpack off and reached down in, fingers feeling for your headphones. He took them out and handed them to you.
You immediately put them on, connected them to your phone, turned on the music, and got to work on your racing journal. You wanted to go over your notes before the race. While you were distracted, Enzo took a little walk, trying to find some coffee.
He ended up walking past the group of three drivers and smiled at Charles. The Italian knew of him growing up and was excited to see him in a team that gave him a good championship winning car.
He nodded his head toward your new teammate. “Max.”
Max’s eyes lightened at the familiar face. “Enzo!”
The two bro-hugged before parting, letting Enzo greet the two Merc drivers. When he was done, Max had a teasing attitude.
“Can’t convince you to stay as my engineer? Don’t get me wrong, I love GP, but you knew me better.”
Enzo smiled and shook his head. “No can do. Gotta take care of my kid.”
Fernando entered the conversation. “Where is she? We saw her walking but then she disappeared.”
The older man scratched his head. “Yeah, she tends to do that. She’s a bit nervous.”
Charles scoffed. “I’ll say. They shouldn’t have said anything until Wednesday. Sky Sports announced it way too early.”
The Monegasque had something similar happen to him when he first joined Mercedes. It had all been planned that he would take Valtteri Bottas’s seat mid-season. Yet, Sky Sports announced it before Mercedes had a chance to even say that Bottas had wanted to retire early due to an illness. The media had made Charles into a seat-stealing villain his first season.
The engineer nodded sadly. “I think she’s also nervous about the team.”
Max looked at him with a shocked expression. “The team?”
Enzo waved his hands. “She has full confidence. Y/n’s a bit nervous about trying to be on your level Max.”
Well, that didn’t settle well with the Dutchman. Great, he was excited to have such a young teammate: someone who he could get along with and help them grow in the sport. But now, you were afraid of him?
“She’s not scared of you Max, just nervous.”
Oh. He said that out loud.
Max glanced back at the garage. “Can I go talk to her.”
Enzo nodded before handing him a pen. “I forgot to give this to her, she’ll be looking for it. You don’t mind giving it to her right?”
“Not at all,” he responded, thankful for something that could break the ice between the two of you.
Max grasped the pen and made his way to the overly bright red garage. He really wished Ferrari would take a page out of Mercedes’s book and make everything black. But no, they had to show off the corsa rosso red.
You were too busy writing some notes down, with the wrong pen, to notice Max’s shoes now in your line of sight. The Dutchman lightly nudged your own shoe, which had your head jerking up to look at him.
Your eyes widened and your hands reached to pull your headphones off.
Max only smiled down at you. He thought that you looked like a scared mouse. He wondered if you were quiet like one as well.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked.
You could only shake your head no and scoot over as Max sat down on the concrete near you. The two of you sat in silence as you continued to scribble. Max suddenly remembered the pen in his hand.
“Here. Enzo wanted me to give this to you.”
Your fingers lightly touched his as you grabbed it from him.
To Max, you also reminded him of his sister at this age. Shy, meek, quiet. But he had seen your videos and your impressiveness on the track. Your overtakes were nothing to be overlooked. He heard you sigh as the pen now nicely glided over the pages.
The Dutchman let his eyes wander over the pages. He noticed that you were even taking notes on him as well.
You didn’t look at him, but you spoke, “If you break a bit later on turn 4, you can cut off another tenth.”
Your voice gave Max whiplash as he wasn’t expecting you to talk to him without being prompted. His mind ran as he tried to remember turn 4. When he did the calculations he was surprised to find that you were correct.
“How did you..”
“I watched your onboards from last season. You’re very, what’s the word,” you gave him a smirk, “predictable.”
Max’s jaw dropped, which caused you to laugh a bit. Max, although shocked, was glad that you were coming out of your shell a bit.
He leaned over to whisper, “Are you overwhelmed with the red as much as I am.”
You smiled as you whispered back, “It is positively draining. Why can’t they do black like Mercedes?”
Max threw his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”
You pretended to think. “What if we gang up on them. They can’t resist both drivers.”
Max put on a weird accent, making his voice higher. “It’s either change the garage and everything to black or we walk.”
That made you snort which caused Max to wheeze.
Enzo was just on his way back with two coffees (both for him) when he heard the sound of you laughs mixed with Max’s. He smiled fondly at the two drivers. He took a sip before putting on his bright red headphones that he needed for qualifying. He coughed a bit, but it was soon over. Nothing like the sickness that he barely beat back in 2019. He was thankful that he got to continue to watch you grow.
Max asked, “How far do you think you’ll get in qualifying?”
You thought for a moment. “Uh, I hope to make it to Q2 if possible.”
The Dutchman lifted his hand to ruffle your hair. Your hands swatted at him as you pouted.
“I think you can get farther.”
You only shrugged. “We’ll see.”
The car was definitely your safe space. You felt as though you could finally breathe easier.
“Radio check please.”
“Loud and clear Enzo.”
“Ok, let’s get this bread.”
You shook your head as you sat in the car. “Please never say that again.”
Much to your and the team’s delight, you made it past Q1 and Q2. And you ended Q3 in the second row in P3. Max had just missed pole by mere hundredths. Charles Leclerc always had scarily good one lappers in the third session.
Max gave you a giant hug at the end of the session, very glad at your positioning.
As he had his arms around you, he thought to himself.
“Yeah. You were going to be great.”
Earth 331649
The big letters stood out to Max as his eyes began to water.
“Not Applicable for Adoption at this Time” was all the top said. He hadn’t bothered to read the rest. He knew what it was going to say. It’s what every letter said for the past few months.
They weren’t approved.
They traveled too much.
There weren’t any in their preferred age group that were adoptable right now.
They wouldn’t be able to take care of a baby.
They were…Max didn’t even want to mention the word.
He glanced at the gold band that adorned his ring finger on his left hand. The sight made his eyes water more. The paper was quickly crumpled and thrown to the side. The Dutchman leaned forward and put his hands over his face and just sobbed.
They had been trying for so long. The conversation had started two years ago as they lied in bed one night. They were nearing the ends of their careers, but they hadn’t wanted to wait until they were retired. They were sure in their marriage enough to where they both could handle a baby in their lives.
A mini them running around, playing with Jimmy and Sassy. The thought was too much to bear right now though.
The door clicked but Max hadn’t heard, he just continued to sob.
“Amore, I’m back from the shop. They had the pastries that you really liked. Amore?”
Max started sobbing harder. Before he heard knew it, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders. He heard a big sigh as a head rested against his back.
“Another one?”
Max didn’t even reply, but his sobs had subsided into quiet sniffles. Charles glanced over at the crumpled paper that had been tossed to the side. He’s told Max time and time again to wait until he gets home to read them, but the older was always a bit too excited or anxious to wait. He bit his tough, not wanting to say anything that could upset the Dutchman even more.
“It will be all right.”
“Will it?” Max bit back, full of sadness and anger. But, it wasn’t anger at Charles. He was angry at the world.
“It will,” Charles hummed. However, the Monegasque was also getting run down by all the rejection letters. He didn’t know how much more he could take. But, he wanted to be strong for Max. For himself. For their hopeful future child.
“Every time Charlie. Every time, it’s always a different excuse.”
“Our time will come.”
“But what if it doesn’t? We aren’t getting any younger Charles.”
The Monegasque harshly inhaled. He stopped rubbing Max’s back. Although, he really didn’t know when he started.
He went to say something, yet his phone rang loudly, breaking the silence of the room. Charles muttered something about wanting to hang up, but his breath hitched at the sight of the name at the top of his phone. His thumb had never pressed the answer button.
He quickly put the call on speaker.
“Bonjour?”
“Ah, Mr. Verstappen?”
“This is he.”
“Is your husband here with you?”
Max perked up at the question. His eyes were bloodshot, but he was now paying attention. He scooted even closer to Charles, face almost in the phone.
Charles chuckled at Max’s closeness.
“Oui, he is here.”
“Ok, so we just got a call from the Princess Grace Hospital. We think you want to come here for this.”
Max gulped before whispering. “It is what we think it is?”
Charles held his breath as he and Max waited for the answer.
“Why don’t you come find out.”
The two of them could hear the playfulness as the their adoption agent hung up the phone. They looked into each other’s eyes before they dashed around, getting their shoes on. Max almost tripped as he hopped on one foot, his shoe getting caught on his finger. Charles chuckled as he bent to tie his own shoe.
Max was halfway out the door, still waiting.
“Come on Charlie.”
“Mon amore, are you forgetting something?”
Max patted his pockets and realized he forgot the key that were now dangling on Charles’s finger.
“Oh.”
Charles rolled his eyes as he walked toward the door, grabbing Max’s waste as he walked. The Dutchman quickly followed him to the Monegasque’s Ferrari Purosangue. He bought the SUV when he and Max put in their first adoption profile.
Max huffed as he noticed that Charles was going below the speed limit.
“Baby, can you maybe, hurry up?”
Charles only hummed as a reply. He did step on the gas a bit, but the Monaco speeds were slow as it. It wasn’t their fault that they drove ridiculously fast cars and his husband was currently high strung.
Charles put his hand on Max’s thigh and started to rub small circles, which in the long run did help Max calm down a bit.
The Dutchman had calmed down some by the time they parked in front. Charles started to get out of the car, but Max’s hand grabbed his arm before he got far. Charles recognized the look of fear on his husband’s face. His pointer finger found the golden band on Max’s finger and started to rub it.
“What if- What if- What if it happens again.”
Charles’s eyes drooped a bit at the sadness in Max’s voice.
“But what if it doesn’t?”
A glimmer of hope came back to Max’s eyes as he places a chaste kiss on Charles’s lips.
“Let’s go.”
With an unbuckle of his seatbelt, Max was out the door. Charles had to catch up to Max’s larger steps. His hand soon found Max’s as they walked in. He squeezed three times, and got three in return.
Charles look the lead as they approached the front desk. The lady at the computer had a nice attitude as she gave them a smile when she looked up from her screen.
“May I help you gentlemen?”
“Ah, yes, my husband and I got a call from our adoption agent, Mitch Walker.”
The lady’s eyebrows raised as she started to type on her computer once again. Max bounced in his place, willing the lady to type faster.
“Ah, floor three, room 89.”
“Thank you,” Charles stated, already watching Max walk toward the elevator. He chuckled as he slowly followed, knowing the elevator would arrive when he got there. Inside the contraption, Max read the list of floors.
His finger traced them until he got to the third floor.
“Charlie.”
Charles looked where his finger had landed.
Delivery floor.
Before Charles could react, the elevator doors opened. They both bolted into the hallway.
86.
87.
88.
89.
They both paused in front.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
Charles grabbed the nob and slowly twisted. The room was a bit dim and Mitch was standing in the middle of the room. She turned at the sound of the door and a smile made a way on her face.
“Hi guys,” she whispered. She stepped closer and pulled a curtain that cut the room in half.
“Hi,” Charles replied, also whispering.
Mitch put her hands together. “So, we have a little someone who was given up today. If everything goes well, you two might be going home with a baby today.”
Tears welled up in Max’s eyes at her words. He choked down a sob and bit his knuckle.
“I just need you two to wash your hands and then you can meet her.”
Charles whispered, “Her?”
Mitch only nodded.
This time, Charles was the one to let out a small sob. They gingerly walked over to the sink, hands bumping into each other as they rinsed under the water. Once dry, Mitch dragged the curtain back over.
In the middle of the smaller section near a couch, lied a bassinet. With bated breath, Charles and Max peered over. Tears now welling in both their eyes. Max’s finger gently moved towards the baby’s face.
He lightly grazed the soft cheek, causing the baby to squirm. Max had never jerked his hand away from something faster. Charles let out a small and quiet laugh. The baby’s hand was open, inviting Charles to put his finger in the tiny palm.
The baby suddenly curled her fingers around the one finger, eyes suddenly opening. The Dutchman wanted to cry once again. Her green eyes peered up at him. Max’s eyes caught a tuft of hair and he gently pulled back the tiny hat. Blond hair appeared in a small bit. He gently pulled the hat back into place.
His blond hair.
Charles’s green eyes.
Charles turned to Mitch.
“Can I hold her.”
A single nod had Charles scooping the baby in his arms, and he placed her on his chest. His body leaned back just a bit to accommodate her. Max immediately took his phone out and took a picture. He was definitely going to use that as his lock screen picture from now on.
Max watched as Charles sat on the small couch in the corner. Max followed suit and sat next to him.
The baby was looking right at him.
“Hello little one,” he whispered, finding the courage to graze her face once again. A small smile appeared on the girl’s face, but it was short lived. But, Max had seen it and he was happy that it was directed at him.
“-ax, Amore.”
His eyes shot up to Charles’s face.
“Yes?”
The brunet rolled his eyes. “I asked: Do you want to hold her?”
Max could only nod. Charles gently handed her over to his husband and watched as his big hands cradled the baby. One hand was gently placed on her bum and the other on her head. He cooed at the man and baby, seeing tears stream down his face.
Mitch quietly approached the couple. “So, it seems like everything is going well. I can almost read your minds and I got your application approved. It’ll take a while for everything to come in but you are good to take her home.”
Charles stood and gave her a giant hug: big enough for the both of them. She patted Charles’s back before grinning widely again.
“You know, she doesn’t have a name yet.”
Max’s head whipped from the baby to the woman.
“We get to name her?” he questioned, heart filling with so much love. There were so many names that he and Charles had picked out. The first name would be something special, something not used before. The middle names would be in honor of loved ones past and present. And then, the baby would take both last names.
Mitch came over with a certificate and pen in hand.
“Do you two know or do you need a moment?”
Max nodded at Charles and then looked back down at the beautiful green eyes that stared up with him.
Charles did the honors.
“Her name is Y/n Julia Sophie Pascale Antoinette Leclerc-Verstappen.”
Little Y/n. Oh how the world wasn’t ready. But it would welcome her with open arms.
Earth 959589
“Shit!” you yelled, tumbling out of bed. You were late, oh you were so late. Max was going to kill you and you could say goodbye to your seat.
Before the season even started.
You tripped as you pulled on a shoe, face planting back into the bed. Your phone was currently blowing up with notifications as it rested on the side table. You hastily pulled on your Red Bull polo and grabbed your jeans. Your foot got stuck since you put your shoes on first.
Great move Y/n, great move.
You finally got a hand on your phone and answered the call.
“Where are you? Max is close to having an aneurism,” your race engineer hissed through the phone.
“I know Charles, but my alarm never went off!”
Your head was pressing your phone to your shoulder as you talked and walked toward the elevator.
“Just please get here ASAP,” he sighed. You could see the man rubbing his eyebrows, even if you couldn’t see him.
“I’m getting in the car now.”
“You better be thankful. I’ll see you here.”
When you arrived to the paddock, you went directly to the interviews, which you were late for as well. You winced as you walked in front of everyone and sat down, face ablaze in red.
Lando poked your side. At least he went with the polo so you two could be matching some. He leaned over when a question was directed to Arthur.
“Max is going to kill you.” He smirked as he leaned away. Your microphone accidentally picked up the smack to his shoulder. Some eyes landed on you as you tried to duck away.
Arthur looked over at you. “Nice of you to join us champ.”
You shrugged. “My alarm didn’t go off.”
“Sure.”
Your jaw dropped. “Excuse you?”
Before you could get any farther, a journalist asked a question directed toward you.
“Y/n, if I may, how is this season a bit different than last?”
Your eyes looked up as you thought of a good answer. “Uh, well, there was a lot of change within Red Bull this past winter break. My old teammate went to being my team principal. And then he somehow convinced Charles to join as well and be my race engineer.”
A scoff came from Arthur that cause you to lean to look at him.
“Are you all right Leclerc?”
The Monegasque rolled his eyes.
“I would like to have my brother back please.”
“Well, too bad I got him first. And then back to my question. Lando became my teammate and he’s giving me a run for my money.”
Lando smirked at that statement.
“Ah yes, the cheeky little bugger he is. But, I’m really on track for my second championship. Maybe next year I’ll let Lando get one.”
The journalist thanked you for your good answer.
Fortunately the press conference ended after that. Yet, it was unfortunate for you since you could feel Max’s glare from miles away. You stopped, causing Arthur to bump into your back.
“Any chance I can come hide in your driver’s room?”
Arthur shook his head yes, giving you some hope.
“No.”
You visibly deflated as you watched him walk toward the bright red garage.
A sigh left your lips as you stalked toward the garage. Charles gave you a sympathetic look as you walked past. His hand rubbed your shoulder until he gently pushed you toward Max. You winced under the Dutchman’s glare.
“My office Y/n.”
You could only follow him into the office. You took the first seat you passed in front of the large desk. Max rubbed his eyebrows and sighed. But, you panicked.
“I’m so sorry Max. I swore I turned on my alarms last night, but I was up late going over data again because I can’t let the team down again like last race. I know that I can make up the speed. And then my phone was on silent and then I tripped on my shoe and the car got stuck in traffic. I swear I went straight to the conference. I won’t be late again I promise, just please don’t take away my seat.”
Max watched in horror as you lost your composure right in front of him. This monologue only told him that you were truly scared that he’d kick you off the team because of a little DNF last race. His heart dropped as he saw tears stream down your face as you visibly shook.
He stood up quickly and rounded the desk. His hands dropped on your shoulders.
“Kid, kid. Listen to me. You’re not going to lose your seat. I was just worried when you didn’t show up and when you didn’t answer mine or Charles’s calls.”
“Oh.”
Max wanted to laugh. “Yes, oh. Do you remember all the times I used to show up late? The times that Charles showed up late as well?”
You let out a chuckle as you remembered both Ferrari drivers would show up a bit late. No one ever seemed to mind. You let out a sigh of relief.
Max stood up and walked toward the door. “Now, let’s go out there and what do we do?”
“Kick names and take ass!”
Max rolled his eyes. “Sure kid. Sure.”
Earth 1218 - Present Earth
You gasped as you sat up in your bed.
“Kid?” Max questioned, head popping up from the couch. Vegas had been super early again and you and Max didn’t want to go back to the hotel when you had FP2 soon. So, the two of you just curled up in his driver’s room. His voice was groggy as he had just gotten up from an interrupted nap as well.
You clutched your head and groaned.
“I had such weird dreams.”
“Oh. Tell me?” Max’s head was already back down on his pillow.
“You were a king, and then you were my younger brother?”
Max snorted but let you continue. He knew that you wouldn’t remember in the morning anyway.
“And then you were my teammate at Ferrari and Charles drove for Mercedes, Enzo was there. Oh, and then you and Charles were married.”
“Kid you have been watching too many Lestappen edits on Twitter and TikTok.”
You only grumbled.
“I do not. Finally you were my team principal.”
“Strange. Go back to sleep.”
Max never got an answer back, because you were already zonked. He chucked and turned back over, phone clenched in his hand as he watched the edit of Charles’s 2022 sunset lap into his 2023 pre-storm qualification. However, he didn’t know that his volume was so loud.
“He was sunshine, I was midnight rain…And I could see it all in my mind…”
“I KNEW IT! YOU WATCH THEM TOO!”
“GO TO SLEEP!”
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After hearing the news about King Charles III having cancer, I’d like to bring this gem (Which someone commented on one of my smut fics) back
#dc#jason todd#red hood#batman#bruce wayne#dick grayson#tim drake#nightwing#damian wayne#united kingdom#jason todd fanfic
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I Wish You Love | Part One
I Wish You Love Masterlist
Lewis Nixon x Housemaid!Female Reader
Watching Miss Isobel encourage Lieutenant Nixon's affections only to ignore his letters as soon as he's deployed proves too much for you to bear.
Warnings: Canon typical violence, Angst, Class Divide, Infidelity, Dishonesty, Discussion of War Wounds, Language, Smoking, Alcohol Consumption, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.
Author's Note: Reader's nationality is British and liberties have been taken in describing her background and family life for the sake of plot. No physical descriptions or y/n used. A good portion of this fic will be letter-based. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
Word Count: 4611
--------------------------
You had met Lewis Nixon first. On a misty morning in early December 1943 when The Honourable Isobel St John’s dog, Dash III, was yet again carelessly let out of the house by the naïve kitchen maid Else. The poor girl, freshly arrived from Austria, meant well, truly. But she simply did not seem to comprehend the vastness of Lydiard Park, nor the fact that a great portion of it had become off limits, requestioned by the 101st Airborne to construct a field hospital in anticipation of the invasion of France.
Wrapping a shawl around the shoulders of your black service dress, lace collar at your throat, you had forced yourself out into the damp chill, shoes crunching on the pea gravel path as you had called out for the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. Miss Isobel thought quite highly of herself, typical middle child syndrome if one were being quite honest, and had kept a series of Cavalier’s named after Queen Victoria’s own – though she preferred the Blenheim colouring to the original’s tri-coloured coat. Of all the staff, and humans, at Lydiard House, Dash III was most likely to respond to you and so this task was one with which you were quite familiar.
What you had not expected to find was the missing canine squirming in the arms of a handsome American Lieutenant, desperately trying to lick at his striking jawline.
“Dash!” You had cried out at the state of his filthy coat, the majority of the white streaked with mud.
“That’s your name, then, is it?” The Lieutenant had smirked, a label bearing the last name of ‘Nixon’ stitched onto his uniform above his left breast pocket.
“Dash the third, Leftenant.” You had gulped roughly at the broad grin that had unfurled across his features at your British pronunciation of his rank.
“Dash the third. I am Lewis Nixon the third, what destiny we should meet.” Nixon had addressed the filthy dog fondly, prompting him to squirm in delight, smearing all manner of muck onto his uniform.
“I am terribly sorry for the trouble, sir, please allow me.” You had moved to take Dash from Nixon, but the gentle shake of his head had halted your movements.
“Not at all, miss, I’m assuming this rogue Dash belongs up at the house?” He had raised an eyebrow and you had nodded quickly. “Allow me then, my clothes are meant to get dirty.” He had tucked the dog under his arm more securely and began walking back with you. “I take it this is not Dash’s first great escape?”
You had shaken your head quickly, biting back a laugh. “Unfortunately not, Leftenant. I truly appreciate your help returning him to us. Miss Isobel will be relieved.”
“And how about you?” Nixon had inquired with a grin.
You had looked to your feet quickly, the expression only making him transition from good looking to dangerously handsome. “Grateful, of course, sir.”
“And is that what I should call you? Grateful? Is that her name, Dash?” He had looked down to the dog beneath his arm, earning a warm tongue along his cheek in response.
A laugh had escaped your lips before you had introduced yourself properly as the pair of you neared the 18th century Palladian style home. “Please follow me to the kitchen door, Leftenant, I’ll need to give Dash a bath before he is unleashed upon the household.”
Nixon’s appearance in the servants’ hall had caused quite a stir, earning him an introduction to the family upstairs upon which Miss Isobel had immediately set her eyes on him. The Honourable Isobel St John was a complicated woman and while you were the same age, born in 1918, your experiences and perceptions of the world could not have been more different. Third child of Viscount Bolingbroke, what she lacked in social standing she more than made up for in entitlement.
While her parents, Bertrand and Elizabeth St John were disappointed in her unwed state at the age of twenty-five, four years into the war it was more common than not. And it was not for any lack of suitors on Miss Isobel’s part. A veritable parade of uniformed men had joined the family at the simpler dinner parties they now hosted, particularly with their eldest child and only son taken prisoner by the Japanese so early in the war. With eldest daughter Gwendoline busily running her own household with two children, and youngest Rosamund off with the Auxiliary Territorial Service, Lydiard House was held hostage by the whims and desires of Miss Isobel. And through the winter of 1943 into spring 1944 that had been Lieutenant Lewis Nixon.
From the glimpses you caught of him whilst serving cocktails and dinner, the lack of footmen pressing housemaids such as yourself into service in unusual roles, and the starry-eyed descriptions provided by Miss Isobel herself as you helped her dress and undress before said gatherings, it seemed Lieutenant Nixon fit in quite well at an upper-class table. Naturally his duties prevented him from visiting every weekend, but he was present more often than not, and as the weather grew warmer, he and Miss Isobel would take long walks on the grounds still available to the St John family, Dash happily accompanying them on a leash.
Lieutenant Nixon was polite and friendly, greeting you with a familiar nod when you would fetch Dash for his meal as they were lounging beside the lake, or throwing you a smile as you would hold out his preferred whiskey on a silver tray before dinner. But you by no means expected his generosity that rainy Sunday in mid-April. Having taken the majority of the day off for your father’s birthday, you had seen to it that Miss Isobel was dressed and on her way to breakfast, before changing into a once-colourful dress of your own, frowning as the skies opened up.
Pulling on your Macintosh, you tucked your small gift into the inside pocket before dashing out to the garage to fetch your bicycle, heading down the gravel drive toward the road into town when Lieutenant Nixon’s covered jeep pulled up beside you.
“Where are you going in this deluge?!” He peered out at you, and you swallowed.
“Good morning, Leftenant. Headed into Swindon to see my father. You’ll find Miss Isobel in the breakfast room, sir.”
Your eyes widened as he put the jeep in park, the door swinging open before he dashed around to open the tail gate. “Put your bike the back, I’ll drive you.”
“But sir, I…” You trailed off as the jacket of his uniform was growing darker with rain by the moment and found yourself unable to argue at the expense of his clothing.
You quickly dismounted and surrendered your bicycle, trying not to stare too intently as he easily hoisted it into the back before ushering you into the passenger’s seat on the right side of the vehicle – the positioning utterly foreign, but you quickly dashed inside, sliding off your hood as he jogged back to the driver’s side.
“This is truly unnecessary, Leftenant, it’s out of your way and will only delay you.” You pleaded with him once he was back under the canvas cover.
He gave you his lopsided grin, shaking his head, scattering some raindrops from his garrison cap. “Izzy’ll not even notice, let her enjoy her cold toast.”
You bit your lip savagely, well aware of the degree to which Miss Isobel loathed that nickname, yet she never seemed to correct him on it. Executing a smooth three-point turn, he aimed the jeep back toward the main road and began to drive to Swindon. “How long does it take you to cycle there?”
“About twenty minutes, sir. It’s a nice ride on a dry day.” You undid the buttons on your Macintosh, overheating in the garment, and slid it open to reveal your dress.
Lieutenant Nixon’s glance in your direction, and quick double-take, had you smoothing the hem of it against your knees self-consciously. “I’m sorry, you look lovely, I’m just so used to seeing you in black and white it’s like we’ve landed in Oz and you’re suddenly in Technicolor over there.”
The analogy was so striking that you were completely taken aback. Laughter bubbled up from your throat as you shook your head and belatedly covered your mouth as he grinned broadly, seeming quite pleased with himself.
“So, you grew up in Swindon?” Nixon asked over the sound of rain pelting the roof and windshield and you nodded quickly.
“Yes, sir.” You swallowed, hands planted in your lap as you tugged at your fingertips nervously.
“Izzy tells me you have a brother fighting in Italy, is that right?”
You looked to him, startled to learn that you had ever been a topic of conversation between him and Miss Isobel. “I do, sir.”
“Is he older or younger than you?” He took his eyes off the road to meet yours briefly, seeming genuinely interested in your answer.
“Johnny is twelve minutes older, sir.”
“Twins?!” His wide, brown eyes flashed back to yours and you nodded with a soft laugh.
“I don’t think I’ve met a twin before…” He murmured thoughtfully. “And what does your father do?”
Swallowing nervously, you glanced out the window a moment to carefully formulate your answer. “He picks up work at the Swindon Railway Works.” You replied, leaving out the part that he only did so when he was physically well enough. The loss of his leg on the Somme was a wound that had never fully healed and nagged him more and more as he got older.
“Do you get to see him often?” He asked, making the turn into town easily as you shook your head sadly.
“Not as often as I should – it’s his birthday today, though, so I asked to take most of the day a few months ago.”
“Well, wish him a happy birthday for me, will you?” He smiled and you nodded before guiding him through the streets to the simpler, working-class neighbourhood where the one-bedroom flat you’d grown up in was located.
Lieutenant Nixon parked the jeep in front of the building and the pair of you hurried out into the rain to retrieve your bicycle from the back. You had just finished thanking him profusely when you turned to see your father standing in the doorway on his crutches, not wearing prosthetic leg. It was no surprise, actually, in weather like this he found the thing extremely uncomfortable.
A look of understanding crossed Lieutenant Nixon’s face and he insisted on walking you to the door, offering his hand to shake your father’s.
“Happy Birthday, sir.”
Your baffled father had shaken it in return with his thanks, completely taken aback by the American Lieutenant on his doorstep.
“Thank you again, Leftenant.”
“It was my pleasure, enjoy your afternoon off.” He smiled and dashed back to the car as you ushered your father inside, explaining everything as you helped him to his chair.
Mercifully, when it came time for you to return to Lydiard House for the evening, the rain had eased up and you were able to cycle back without getting soaked to the skin. As you came up the drive, you spotted Lieutenant Nixon and Miss Isobel walking arm in arm, heads bent toward one another as Dash walked alongside. You dismounted quickly, trying to be discrete, but the dog turned as soon as he caught your scent, barking happily in greeting.
“Ah, you’re back.” Miss Isobel said flatly.
“Good Evening Miss Isobel, Leftenant Ni–“
“Oh, don’t be so British, it’s Lieutenant.” Miss Isobel cut you off, tone rather condescending as she slipped the leash from the Lieutenant’s grasp and held it out toward you expectantly. “Will you take Dash inside for his meal? Then I’ll see you to change for dinner.”
You hurried to close the distance, pushing your bike along with you as you took the leash from her, Dash happily wending his way between your ankles in greeting. “Certainly, Miss.” You replied patiently before excusing yourself with a curtsy, leading the dog inside, finding it rather awkward to manage the bicycle as well but after nearly ten years of serving the St John family you knew better than to test Miss Isobel.
“I think it’s charming how she says it.” You bit the inside of your cheek savagely, trying not to overhear Lieutenant Nixon’s defense of your pronunciation, particularly when Miss Isobel replied in a sultry voice.
“I’ll tell you what’s charming…” The rest of her statement was mercifully out of the range of your hearing as you tucked your bicycle away in the garage.
As the calendar flipped to May, Lieutenant Nixon’s presence became less and less frequent at Lydiard and the ever-impatient Miss Isobel’s eye began to wander. It most certainly was not your place to have an opinion, or loyalties to any of her suitors, but the presence of a RAF pilot named Shore left a sour taste in your mouth.
It was early on June 7 when the first of Lieutenant Nixon’s letters to Miss Isobel arrived. Placing it on a silver tray, you took it up first thing in the morning when you went up to dress her for the day. It sat on her vanity, unopened still, when you changed her for dinner with Captain Shore, remained there while she flirted with him brightly through the meal, and was brushed into the dust bin as you undressed her for bed. “Oh, Miss I think you…”
“That will be all, good night.” She waved her hand dismissively and you frowned, excusing yourself with a nod before stepping out of the room.
Sitting heavily on your twin bed in the attic, the metal frame creaking in protest, your brow remained furrowed as all you could picture was Lieutenant Nixon’s caring face as he had listened attentively to your answers whilst going out of his way to drive you into town. He was a kind and considerate man, not to mention excruciatingly handsome, but now that he was out of sight, he was quite simply out of Miss Isobel’s mind. For all anyone knew he could be lying dead in France somewhere by now, the news of the invasion fresh in everyone’s mind, particularly the steep toll and tenuous hold.
“You keep making that face and it’ll get stuck like that.” Helen, your roommate chided warmly, and you blinked rapidly, shaking your head to clear it with a self-deprecating laugh.
“Just overthinking things, sorry Helen. Shall I get the light?”
With her agreement, you flicked the switch off at the wall and shuffled back to bed, sliding under the covers, mulling over the conundrum of the unopened letter upstairs. You would be emptying that dustbin tomorrow morning while Miss Isobel was at breakfast. Perhaps you should rescue it in case she changed her mind. Plan formulated, you were able to get some rest and later secured the correspondence, storing it in the bottom of your suitcase.
One week later, the second letter arrived, and you took it up to Miss Isobel hopefully.
“Oh, you can stop bringing these to me, I shan’t be taking up correspondence with him.” She muttered dismissively, not even taking the letter from the tray on which you presented it to her.
Your entire body went rigid for a moment, and it took a great summoning of strength to reply, “Yes, Miss.”
“And take Dash for an extra long walk, would you, he’s been positively listless the past few weeks and the weight of his gaze is quite a bore.” She sank in the vanity chair expectantly as you glanced over at the dog, lying forgotten on his plush, velvet bed, no longer of use to her as Captain Shore was allergic.
“Yes, Miss.” Your reply was perhaps terser than it ought to be, but to your good fortune, Miss Isobel was already flipping through a magazine idly as she waited for you to begin styling her hair.
Drawing deeply from your well of restraint, you managed not to jab her scalp with any pins as you secured her hair into a set of fashionable victory rolls before you called to Dash to take him for a walk. As you descended the stairs, you took the abandoned letter from its tray and shoved it into your pocket, grabbing Dash’s leash from the backdoor in the servant’s hall and heading out for a lengthy walk of the grounds. It did both of you good to get out of that house, Dash immediately perking up, tailing wagging as he trotted to-and-fro to inspect the foliage while you worked out your frustration at the petulant child you worked for by setting a brisk pace.
You only slowed after about thirty minutes, when a sheen of sweat had gathered at your brow and your legs were beginning to ache, changing to a stroll as you circled the lake, laughing softly as Dash barked at the ducks far out in the water who paid him no mind. “I promise to bring you out here more often, you silly boy.” You muttered, sliding a hand into your pocket and blinking as you found the letter, guilt twisting like a knife in your belly. “Because there’s a lot to make up for when it comes to your mistress.”
Swallowing tightly, you slowly pulled out the envelope, looking over Lieutenant Nixon’s tidy cursive. Certainly, there were laws against reading another’s mail, but the immorality of entertaining a man’s affections for six months only to throw him over as soon as he went to war seemed to outweigh all that in your mind. He had taken the time to write to an ungrateful, spoiled woman, the least someone could do was grant him the courtesy of reading it. Johnny had always said what a joy it was to send and receive letters, how it took his mind off life at the front first in North Africa and now Italy, and as someone who got to enjoy the safety and comfort of home it was a duty in your mind to do whatever you could to help those fighting for the Allies.
Taking a shaky breath, you carefully slipped the letter from the pre-sliced envelope – Miss Isobel was not even expected to open her own mail, after all – and unfolded the sheets of paper.
Pressing your fingertips to your lips, you only realized your feet had stopped their progress across the lawn when Dash’s leash tugged at your wrist insistently before he bounded over to you, pressing his paws onto your calf impatient to continue on. “Sorry, Dash, yes.” You whispered, carefully folding the letter and sliding it back into its envelope before returning it to your pocket.
For all his jokes and smirks, there had always been an air of melancholy about Lieutenant Nixon, one that he seemed to hide beneath a good story and strong drink. The only crime, as far as you could see, would be for his letters, written with such care and affection and filled with a need for connection, to remain unanswered. You could write well-enough, had received excellent marks on your cursive before you left school at sixteen to begin working and supporting your father as his old wound had become more and more troublesome.
You would, of course, toe the line of impersonating your employer. There would be no soppy declarations, just descriptions of the home and the family. Stories to keep his spirits up – just as he requested. Begging out of the after-dinner socializing with the rest of the staff due to a headache, you slipped up to your room to retrieve the first letter from the bottom of your suitcase and sat on your bed to read it as well, intending to reply to both.
Settling against the headboard with some fresh paper and a pen, you nibbled on the end of it thoughtfully, trying to decide how to begin your response.
Lieutenant Nixon
My Dear Lewis
Dearest Lewis
“You’d think I was trying to reinvent the wheel…” You hissed under your breath before grabbing a new sheet of paper and starting anew.
You bit your lip as you signed off, taking more than a little pleasure in perpetuating a nickname you knew Miss Isobel loathed. There were moments in the letter where you may have let a bit more of your own personality shine through but on the whole, you were satisfied that it was a rather good impersonation of your mistress. And most important of all, provided Lieutenant Nixon with the fuel for his imagination that he so longed for.
Preparing an envelope with the mailing address and Miss Isobel’s return address, you carefully folded it all up once the ink had properly dried and placed it in the outgoing post that night after you’d helped Miss Isobel change for bed. In your thoughts as you fell asleep was not only the hope for your brother’s safe return, but also that of Lieutenant Nixon, too.
--------------------------
Read Part Two
I Wish You Love Masterlist
Tag list: @ronsparky, @fuckoffthanos, @bcon24
#lewis nixon x reader#lewis nixon imagines#lewis nixon imagine#band of brothers x reader#band of brothers imagines#band of brothers imagine#band of brothers fic#band of brothers
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Masterlist
Should have done this sooner. But here we are...
Click the title to reach the fic!! Just adding.
[This is because I want you people to ignore the fanfiction blog on my page. It's not working I can't access to it down the edit theme section, I tried on three different devices (laptop, tab and mobile) I can't scroll it down.]
A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE
Who Brings the Dawn?
Rhaenys × Robb Aegon × Aeolian
Rhaenys and Rhaella survives and are alive in King's Landing as Robert's Hostage. Aegon and Dany survived too but are not in Westeros. There are more Targaryens in Lys.
High fantasy fic. This was my first.
Freeze my Heart and Cease my Soul ❄️
Jonnel x Sansa Jon x Sansa
Reincarnation of Jonnel and Sansa who once ruled as the Lord and Lady of Winterfell after Cregan Stark's death. But it follows how and why they married.
This was my second and for my favourite OTP Jonsa!!
Your Daughter, Your Grace
Rhaenys × Viserys Rhaegar x Many
Rhaegar as Henry VIII with one daughter, six wives.
Rhaenys as Queen Mary Tudor. The first reigning queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
Lost on You
Rhaenys x Viserys Aegon x Shireen
Targaryens exiled in free cities but they all were kids. Elia married again to Stannis and had Shireen. Years after war happens Targaryen come back but not with Fire and Blood.
Plus it is my favourite actually. I wrote seven books worth plot in one chapter.
The Queen and her Bastard
Aegon x Aeolian Viserys x Rhaenys
How Elia would have treated Jon Snow?
Plus it has more of my AU in which Rhaegar won the Rebellion. So this is not just about Elia and Jon's relationship but about more people too like Aegon, Lyanna, Jaime.
Yes they have povs.
Born to Die
Aegon II x Viserra
A modern fashion queen is reincarnated in Dance of the Dragons.
My first SI kind of fic.
Viserra Velaryon is Rhaenyra's eldest child and daughter. She expects her mother to name her heir but that never happens so she starts her own dance.
Tears of Labour
This is going to be about every queen and queen mother of Westeros since Aegon's conquest.
There are more queens then kings.
The POV will be through Aeolian Dayne. My OC who will be Aegon's queen in WBtD and TQahB.
Not started yet. 😅
The Grudge
Alyssa x Gwayne Aegon II x Helaena Aegon III x Jaehaera
I am gonna explore more of my Targaryen history with this one. Dance of Dragons and aftermath but a lot different.
Alyssa is Daemon and Rhea's daughter. My OC. Rider of Silverwing.
Not started yet.😅
ATTACK ON TITAN
Break the Walls around Me
Mariah x Reiner Mikasa x Eren
Maria Ackerman, close to the royal family of the Walls and a royal and noble herself. But she is send to protect and finish Historia Reiss when time comes.
Okay. Listen me out on this. Remember the poll the thing I did?
I had two accounts and I posted this on that one but then I decided, nah I want all my works together so I shifted it from there to here and deleted that account.
If you are a fan of my writing (haha, I am joking like who would be?) You can notice the similarities in writing styles. It's mine. This fic is mine and was always mine.
The Goddess of the Walls
Abel x Marcel Maria x Reiner Mikasa x Eren
Abel Reiss living and being the founding Titan.
Not started yet.😅
HARRY POTTER
Their Blood runs Pure
Catherine x Sirius
Catherine Potter. Daughter of Doreah and Charles Potter. Wife of Sirius Black. Mother of his kids. A Death Eater.
And a day of her life in Azkaban.
Heirs
Many OCs and a lot Slytherin and Hufflepuff coded.
Not started yet. 😅
Will add more!! This will keep growing!!!
#fanfiction#writing#asoiaf fanfiction#harry potter fanfiction#attack on titan#attack on titan fanfiction#aegon vi targaryen#elia martell#jon snow#rhaenys daughter of elia#rhaegar targaryen#alicent hightower#gwayne hightower#abel reiss#eren yeager#sirius black#mikasa ackerman#reiner braun#masterlist#aegon ii targaryen#helaena targaryen#jaehaera targaryen#aegon iii targaryen
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— 𝑾𝑯𝑶 𝑰 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑭𝑶𝑹 🪐
— 𝑨 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑬𝑺
🪐 ›› cassian, azriel, nesta archeron, elain archeron, feyre archeron, lucien vanserra, eris vanserra.
ships i'd write for: cassian x nesta , elain x azriel , gwyn x azriel , and elain x lucien.
— 𝑩𝑩𝑪 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑹𝑺
🪐 ›› aramis, porthos.
— 𝑩𝑹𝑰𝑫𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑻𝑶𝑵
🪐 ›› anthony bridgerton, daphne bridgerton, benedict bridgerton, colin bridgerton, king george iii.
— 𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑽𝑨𝑳 / 𝑶𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑼𝑷𝑶𝑵 𝑨 𝑩𝑹𝑶𝑲𝑬𝑵 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻
🪐 ›› legend, julien santos, scarlett dragna, donatella dragna, jacks/prince of hearts.
— 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑬𝑫
🪐 ›› phoebe halliwell, paige matthews, wyatt halliwell, chris halliwell.
— 𝑫𝑨𝑰𝑺𝒀 𝑱𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑰𝑿
🪐 ›› warren rojas, eddie roundtree, graham dunne, camila alvarez, karen sirko, daisy jones, simone jackson.
— 𝑭𝑨𝑺𝑻 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑭𝑼𝑹𝑰𝑶����𝑺
🪐 ›› dominic toretto, brian o'conner, letty ortiz, mia toretto, roman pearce, deckard shaw, tej parker, han lue.
ships i'd write for: dom x letty.
— 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 / 𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑶𝑵
🪐 ›› tormund giantsbane, podrick payne, sansa stark, robb stark, jorah mormont, theon greyjoy, sandor clegane, samwell tarly, rhaegar targaryen, daenerys targaryen.
🪐 ›› aemond targaryen, jacaerys velaryon, alicent hightower, daemon targaryen.
— 𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑹𝒀 𝑷𝑶𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹
🪐 ›› ron weasley, hermione granger, dean thomas, blaise zabini, luna lovegood, neville longbottom, cedric diggory, viktor krum.
🪐 ›› james potter, lily evans, narcissa black, regulus black, andromeda black, sirius black, remus lupin, frank longbottom, peter pettigrew, lucius malfoy, pandora lovegood, alice fortescue, marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald, emmeline vance, dorcas meadows.
🪐 ›› theseus scammander
🪐 ›› teddy lupin
🪐 ›› godrick gryffindor, rowena ravenclaw, helga hufflepuff, salazar slytherin
**a very big fuck you to jkr. this account is HEAVILY anti jkr and always will be.
**while some of the fics for these characters may occur during their time at hogwarts, the characters will be assumed to be 18+ regardless of fic type.
— 𝑰𝑻
🪐 ›› richie tozier, stanley uris, ben hascom, mike hanlon.
**none of my writing for these characters will take place in the first film. i may instead do college!fics for this. everything else will come from when they're adults.
— 𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑽𝑬𝑳 / 𝑿-𝑴𝑬𝑵
🪐 ›› steve rogers, james buchanan "bucky" barnes, natasha romanoff, yelena belova, wanda maximoff, pietro maximoff, thor odinson, loki laufeyson, bruce banner, druig.
🪐 ›› john allerdyce (pyro), bobby drake (iceman), peter rasputin (colossus), scott summers (cyclops), alex summers (havoc), anna marie lebeau (rogue), logan howlett (wolverine), ororo munroe (storm), peter maximoff (quicksilver), charles xavier, erik lehnsherr.
— 𝑶𝑼𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑲𝑺
🪐 ›› pope heyward, sarah cameron, kiara carrera, jj maybank, john b routledge, rafe cameron, topper thornton.
— 𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝒀 𝑩𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑺
🪐 ›› thomas shelby, arthur shelby, john shelby, michael gray, finn shelby.
— 𝑺𝑨𝑳𝑻𝑩𝑼𝑹𝑵
🪐 ›› felix catton, venetia catton, farleigh start.
— 𝑺𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴
🪐 ›› tara carpenter, sam carpenter, chad meeks-martin, mindy meeks-martin, ethan landry.
— 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝑬
🪐 ›› aaron warner, kenji kishimoto, juliette ferrars.
— 𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑾𝑶𝑳𝑭
🪐 ›› derek hale, peter hale, stiles stilinski, isaac lahey, lydia martin, scott mccall.
— 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑼𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑺
🪐 ›› finnick odair, haymitch abernathy.
ships i'd write for: finnick x annie
— 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑽𝑨𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑬 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑺 𝑼𝑵𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬
🪐 ›› elijah mikaelson, marcel gerard, klaus mikaelson, kol mikaelson, rebekah mikaelson, bonnie bennett, enzo st. john, stefan salvatore, damon salvatore, jeremy gilbert, caroline forbes, elena gilbert.
— 𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑬 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫
🪐 ›› eric northman, jason stackhouse, alcide herveaux , jessica hamby.
— 𝑻𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻
🪐 ›› charlie swan, carlisle cullen, emmett cullen, rosalie hale, alice cullen, sam uley, paul lahote, jared cameron.
— 𝑾𝑬𝑫𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑫𝑨𝒀 / 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑫𝑫𝑨𝑴𝑺 𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝒀
🪐 ›› morticia frump, gomez addams, wednesday addams, enid sinclair, bianca barclay.
ships i'd write for: morticia x gomez.
— 𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑬𝑶𝑼𝑺
🪐 ›› ransom drysdale (knives out), andy barber (defending jacob), killian jones (ounce upon a time).
don't see what you're looking for? feel free to ask if i know a fandom/ship/character and if am willing to write what you're looking for!!
#acotar#bridgerton fanfiction#caraval#charmed#djats x reader#fast and furious fanfiction#game of thrones fanfiction#house of the dragon#hotd fanfic#harry potter fanfiction#marauders x reader#marauders fic#marvel fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#x men fanfiction#saltburn fanfiction#peaky blinders fanfiction#shatter me#teen wolf fanfiction#tvd fanfiction#tvd x reader#true blood fanfiction#twilight x reader#twilight fanfiction#wednesday fanfic#bbc musketeers#reader insert#fem!reader#x reader
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The last twelve hours have been mad. King Charles III has cancer, which I accidentally dodgeball prophesized. I got a small promotion at work semi-unexpectedly. Favourite fic had an update. And I've managed to reel in another commission. What is going on.
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Hi! Do you have recommendations for fics in which Charles is older than Erik？Extra kudos for Bottom!Charles
Thank you in advance, and thank you for all the amazing cherik fics esp the hooot porns :-))
Hi Anon! Sorry for the delay it's been a little crazy this week :D
I think the combination of older/bottom!Charles might be this fandom's unicorn lol. BUT these are all amazing fics with older Charles that I hope you enjoy!
Give me your stars to hold by pearl_o
Charles returns home from college and figures out why Erik has been so distant since he’s been away.
Counting Bodies like Sheep (To the Rhythm of War Drums) by cm (mumblemutter)
Erik was born broken, their father always told Charles.
Wind and Words by velvetcadence
Lord Charles of House Xavier has been out-manipulated by Queen Emma into a marriage with her cousin. Still, there are worse fates than having to wed a handsome child.
Casual Encounters by SharpestScalpel
Charles is a busy professor in his 30s - busy enough that a craigslist casual encounter is really the only way he's going to get laid any time soon.
Erik is a 19-year-old virgin with an internet connection and no social skills.
Letters for His Majesty by motleystitches (furius)
When Charles the Gentle, King of Westchester, was nineteen years old, he killed a man named Shaw and rescued a boy he gave to the MacTaggerts’ to raise. Twenty years later, he has almost forgotten the incident. With a wife he loves as a sister, no heir, and a war going badly, Charles falls quickly and inappropriately in love with the knight Erik Lehnsherr.
wait (they don’t love you like I love you)
Charles is a bad guy (head of some shady criminal organization) and Erik is the kid that grew up in his household (his mother is the help? so they maybe live in the servant’s quarters). Anyway Charles likes Erik a lot and assumes that when Erik grows up he will end up working for Charles (maybe he recognizes some violent streak of potential in Erik). Only then Erik decides, while Charles is away on some sort of shady business deal overseas, to go away to college.
So obviously Charles has to go and drag Erik back because Erik is his and his alone.
David's Dad (Has Got it Going On) by afrocurl
Charles doesn't know what to do with the crush his son's best friend, Erik, has on him. At least not until Erik all but forces himself into Charles' lap one night.
An Arrangement of Soulmates by Fullmetalcarer
King Charles III of House Xavier gazed at the painting of his betrothed. Strong jaw, wide, thin lipped yet sensual mouth, straight nose, high cheekbones, intense grey-green eyes, short auburn hair.
tonight is all we need by Oxsa05
Erik has just come of age and soon will be trapped in an arranged marriage against his will. Before losing some of his freedom, he wants one night for himself so he can fulfill his true desires. Charles, an expert and famous prostitute, will make sure Erik has a lovely evening and forget about his troubles for a while, giving him everything he asks for.
Machine of a Heart by traumschwinge
Thirteen years ago, when he was just recovering from an incident during one of his deployments, Logan met Dr Charles Xavier. Dr Xavier, who'd just decided that Logan, while still unconscious, was perfect to try some physical improvements as a proof of concept for the large military project he was, back then, co-heading. Now, Logan's mostly a spy, tangled up in whatever mess Charles and his superiors think necessary to involve him with. It doesn't matter that Logan has feelings, about Charles' project, about Charles himself, about just altering other people's bodies without their consent. What'll matter soon, however, is stopping some harebrained weapons manufacturer from causing the consumption of the entire biomass on planet Earth.
twenty four hours from tulsa by intentation
After having self-emancipated (aka run away), Erik's been holing up in a shitty motel while he figures out his next step. When Charles Xavier moves into the room just down the hall, Erik discovers his new favorite pastime: sex.
Drunk Night, Sobering Days by issabella
Erik is drunk, naked - and standing in the kitchen of Charles Xavier.
Yet what comes easy to do and say while drunk to the gorgeous man with the blue eyes, seems suddenly filled with awkwardness the next morning. Erik feels like a fool though the proverbial silence is golden is not always the best advice, especially if one is quickly developing a crush.
How Prof. Shaw’s Grammar Nazi Ways Got Me Laid and Helped Me Find True Love by jasminetea
Charles is a professor. Erik is a student. They meet through Craigslist.
#gerec rambles#cherik#fic rec#gerec's fic rec#older!charles#also thank you so muchly about my pornz :D
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Drabble/Short Oneshot Requests
So, have been holding back on doing this because I still do have a oneshot req I need to complete, and so many WIPs it's outlandish. That being said, right now, since I'm reconditioning myself to write, it's very difficult for me to tackle those projects and get even a sentence in them at a time. So I'm sort of asking for your help in this in my theory that drabbles are a good medium and that they might help me get used to properly writing.
I'm currently comfortable writing MxF, FxF, and of course platonic relations. I tend to write angst or dark fics so nothing is off limits with me, but if you want to send in something fluffy I can try my best! Anything smutty will likely not be too "in-depth" given the length of drabbles.
I will most likely do these x reader and 2nd person unless otherwise specified.
You can send in:
A GIF or picture prompt
A written prompt (use any but I do have some good angst I found)
A lyric or song + character
A description of what you'd like if the request is more specific (though keep in mind I will be keeping these short)
Fandoms & Characters below!
- Peaky Blinders -
Tommy Shelby
Arthur Shelby
John Shelby
Polly Gray
Michael Gray
Alfie Solomons
Tatiana Petrovna
Luca Changretta
Aberama Gold
- Game of Thrones -
(since I'm not far in this there are only a couple characters that I feel confident writing for as of yet, since I know their spoilers updated)
(underage characters will be aged up if the request is sexual)
Petyr Baelish
Daenerys Targaryen
Jaimee Lannister
Cersei Lannister
Tyrion Lannister
Jorah Mormont
Viserys III Targaryen
Jon Snow
Sansa Stark
Arya Stark
Robb Stark
Catelyn Tully/Stark
Tommen Baratheon
Stannis Baratheon
Ramsay Snow/Bolton
Theon Greyjoy
Yara Greyjoy
Margaery Tyrell
Bronn
Brienne
Melisandre
- Adrien Characters -
* ones I am more picky with because I have full stories planned out for them, so I might not do the request or might use my OC for said story depending on how the inspiration goes
Henry Barthes (Detachment)
*Jack Driscoll (King Kong)
Clive Nicoli (Splice)
*Dmitri (The Grand Budapest Hotel)
*Peter Whitman (The Darjeeling Limited)
Jack Starks (The Jacket)
Leo Kopernick (See How They Run)
Frankie (American Heist)
Bloom (The Brothers Bloom)
Jack Grace (Love the Hard Way)
Steven (Dummy)
Harry (Oxygen)
Charles Boone (Chapelwaite)
- Aidan Characters -
If you ask me to write an Aidan Gillen character that isn't on this list, odds are I will say yes, lol. I may just have to watch whatever the character is in because I've not seen much with him... yet.
- Far Cry 5 -
Jacob Seed
John Seed
Joseph Seed
Faith Seed
#oneshots#blurbs#blurb requests#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagines#peaky blinders fanfic#game of thrones#game of thrones fanfic#far cry 5#far cry 5 fanfic#tommy shelby#john shelby#arthur shelby#michael gray#alfie solomons#polly gray#aberama gold#tatiana petrovna#luca changretta#petyr baelish#daenerys targaryen#adrien brody#aidan gillen#faith seed#jacob seed#john seed#joseph seed
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Africa Calling - Part 1
September 1979
Camilla stretched her arms and with a little sigh sat down on the comfortable sun lounger by the pool again, her legs bent in front of her chest. The first half of September had been unusually warm this year and it was wonderful to soak up the sun. Charles, who was sitting on the sun lounger next to her, was still fiddling with his new video camera. Earlier this month he had captured Tom’s first day of school with it and just yesterday he had filmed how little Laura was taking more and more firm steps, almost running off now.
After a little less than one month after Lord Mountbatten’s death it seemed like Charles was finally starting to really enjoy life again. With Camilla and her wonderful warmth and joie de vivre it felt free and simple, carefree and somehow just… perfect. In April, right after Laura’s first birthday, Andrew had been called to Rhodesia and would be staying there for the foreseeable future without much furlough, much to Charles’s delight. If he had his will, he would probably have moved in by now, Camilla knew. Well, in a way he had, at least since Uncle Dickie’s death anyway… He was spending more time with her children and her than ever before and whenever he was off duty he came around. Camilla, too, felt much happier since they spent so much regular time together, but they both knew, too, that they had to be more careful than ever. With Tom turning 5 in December and having started school on September 3rd, he began to understand and talk more, so they were very careful to not let anything of their love show in front of him.
“Hey, Miss Sexy!”, Charles suddenly said and held his video camera directly at Camilla, who was looking absolutely to die for in a rather small stunning red bikini with white polka dots. One and a half years after Laura’s birth, she’d lost almost all of the baby-weight and looked most perfect, though she had never really bothered about her weight. She’d also grown and nurtured her hair and it was now falling over her shoulders in almost long, golden waves. He loved that length on her, it made her look like a goddess.
Camilla tilted her head towards him, tried to look indignant and breathed a shy “No pictures, please!”, but after a second failed miserably and was only able to splutter and almost fell off the sun lounger.
“Silly girl,” Charles grinned with a shake of his head. “I’m not taking photos, I’m filming you.” And indeed, he was sure he’d taken the most amazing clips of her, capturing her wonderful laugh, her beautiful body and pretty surely he’d even managed to highlight her incredibly sexy venus dimples that he loved so much.
“You’re an idiot.” She rolled her eyes as Charles’s lens came way too close to her cleavage and she playfully put her hand in front of it. “No, no, no,” she laughed. “You’re being naughty, Sir.” With one smooth, quick movement she grabbed the camera and carefully pushed it to the side and into the grass.
“And you’re being cheeky, Miss,” he retorted, saving his camera before he snatched a kiss from her, which suddenly led to a playful tiff, heating up the whole situation out of nowhere. They’d made love not too long ago, earlier this morning, but the tingling and prickling still hung in the air and flushed through both their bodies. Camilla hadn’t planned on it, but she’d fallen madly in love with Charles again just around her 30th birthday last year. Charles, on the other hand, had never stopped loving her and was still head over heels in love. He was crazy about her and would probably be all of his life. At least he couldn’t imagine a day in his life where didn’t love or want her.
“Let’s continue this conversation in bed,” Camilla breathed against the Prince’s mouth. “My legs can’t wait to hear what your hands have to say…”
x
Camilla looked at Charles in surprise, then laughed and threw her head back, looking absolutely sexy without intending to. “You must be joking!”
Charles shook his head and stroked tenderly over Camilla’s naked back. “I’m being very serious, my darling.” he replied, but he could read on her face that she was still trying to figure out if he was taking the mickey out of her or if he’d suddenly gone mad because of his suggestion.
She turned to her side, presenting her wonderfully full breasts. “Darling, you can’t be,” she shook her head.
“But I am,” he insisted, kissing her collar, which made her smile.
“Are you sure you’re not in some kind of a post-coital bemusement or something?”, she giggled, teasingly running her index finger over his stomach and down to his crutch. It made him moan and she grinned again, lovingly and sexily at once.
Camilla noticed very well how much will-power it took Charles to push her slightly away. “Let’s talk about it with a sober mind, maybe at tea time when we’ve recovered from that wonderful orgasm?!” he suggested with a smirk, making no secret out of just how much he loved that lusty lush life with her.
“Are you talking about mine or yours?” she teasingly poked him in the ribs and they both laughed. Then she propped herself up on her elbows. “How about before the children are running and rampaging around us again?”
x
Later that day the lovers sat in the garden again, right in the grass with Laura chasing around them as good as she could. The sun was still up in the sky and bees and butterflies were humming in the air. Camilla had well avoided the topic they’d been talking about earlier that day, but she could read on his face that wasn’t through with it yet.
“Lovey,” he nudged her, “I’ve been very serious when I asked you to be my official companion for Rhodesia. You’re the perfect fit!”
Camilla shook her head in disbelief. “In your wildest dreams, darling.” How could Charles seriously consider her as an official companion for the handover of Rhodesia? She was just a mum and housewife and, most of all: his affair.
“You’re absolutely underestimating yourself, darling.”, Charles contered. “Let me tell you why you’re perfect.” He kissed her palm. “Firstly, you’re happily married to Andrew and he’s the leader down there. So, obviously, you want to be with him at that particular event, you’re a proud army wife after all.” He heard Camilla’s chortle, but chose to ignore it. “Secondly, because you’re happily married nobody’s going to think anything when you’re accompanying me.”
“Despite all our friends and the rest of high society…” Camilla interposed with an amused grin.
Charles shook his head and placed his index finger on her mouth. “Thirdly, you know how to behave, are a perfect companion and, first and foremost, you make me very, very, very happy. Just imagine a grumpy Prince of Wales at such an important event…”
“And your family would, of course, totally approve,” she replied ironically, rolling her eyes.
“Well, Uncle Dickie can’t complain anymore and Mummy actually thinks it’s a nice idea.”
“Your mother thinks ‘it’s a nice idea’?!” Camilla raised an eyebrow.
Charles shrugged his shoulders, his face unimpressed. “Yes.”
“There’s no way I’m going to get into a plane for what, 13 hours?!”
“Not even for your favourite little prince?” Charles looked at her with puppy eyes.
“Darling, I’m going to embarrass you… the monarchy… I’m just… you know… your devoted old house wife friend from the countryside…”
“You’re the perfect consort, my darling.”, he encouraged her. “And I’ll reward you graciously”, he whispered into her ear, which made Camilla giggle.
“Fool,” she laughed, but then got serious. “I’ll think it through. But don’t put your hopes up.”
Charles rolled to the side, a content smile on his face. For the moment that was all he needed to know.
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Coronation of King Charles III
I TOLD Y'ALL. DRESS BLUES.
OK so some context here, first: Amongst the fics I have (still) sitting in my drafts, Sir has seen fit to give me the honorary rank of Lieutenant Commander in his Navy because, well, *gestures vaguely at the entire headcanon* this is entirely self-indulgent bullshit I share because Sea Duke gets laid and we all like when that happens.
MOVING ON. *ahem*
Yes, so, Royal Navy dress blues (No. 1B dress). I don't have ceremonial day dress because that's reserved for Vice Admiral and above. Shaving cream and cologne are Truefitt & Hill's "Trafalgar." Chest candy is my own, and, befitting of any occasion where the Royal Navy is doing stuff, there is Pusser's Rum/grog involved because, by Sea Duke, we finna get litty titty after the ceremony. Camilla will of course try to crash the party and we'll let her. Go on Ma'am, twerk dat ass; IT IS UR DAY TOO, QUEEN (LITERALLY).
Oh also the "SUCK IT, HAROLD" sign to hold up while I'm on the balcony, because I, too, can be petty on international TV.
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I've never been happy with how little info Wikipedia has on Charles Brandon.
Here are bits from Winter King, a book about Henry VII by Thomas Penn. I don't really recommend reading unless you are a severe Tudor nerd. It's pretty dry. I hope this will help anyone who daydreams / writes fics about Charlie (maybe @rmtndew ?)
(As this is a book about Henry VII, the "prince" mentioned below is baby Henry VIII.)
~~~
“Another familiar face in Essex’s household was Charles Brandon. Brandon had an impeccable pedigree as far as Henry VII was concerned. Back in 1484 his father William and his uncle Thomas had fled to join Henry in France after an abortive uprising against Richard III in their native east Anglia, and later that year they had spearheaded the special-forces style raid on Hams that had liberated the Earl of Oxford. Henry’s standard-bearer at Bosworth, William Brandon had become one of the regime’s first martyrs. Thomas had become one of the king’s intimates: royal counselor, Master of Horse, and trusted diplomat. His nephew Charles, meanwhile, had grown up in the royal household, working as a sewer, or waiter. A job in which you needed to have your whits about you, full cunning, and diligence, it involved descending into the ‘veritable hell’ of the royal kitchens to liaise with cooks, taste the innumerable dishes, and supervise their presentation. It was also a role that needed an awareness of the minutia of precedence, as well as courtesy, impeccable manners, charm, and good looks, attributes that Charles Brandon had in spades. In his spare time he had ready access to the royal stables through his uncle, and had evidently become an exceptional horseman. By the age of 17, when he jousted at Arthur and Katherine’s wedding, Brandon was already the consummate courtier. In 1505, around the time he became one of the king’s Spears, he landed the prestigious post of Essex’s Master of Horse. Seven years older than the prince, Brandon was frequently around him at court, in the tilt yard, and probably his own small household, where Brandon’s uncle was the prince’s treasurer.
Brandon, though, had inherited a distinctly unchivalrous approach to women. His father’s own behavior made contemporaries wince. One one occasion, William Brandon had raped an “old gentlewoman,” and “not there with eased,” moved on to her older daughter, and was only narrowly prevented from doing the same to the younger. Charles, it seemed, was a chip off the old block, though his behavior was altogether more calculating. Sometime around 1503, he confided to a friend and fellow servant that he was in love with one of Queen Elizabeth’s gentlewomen, Anne Brown, the daughter of Sir Antony Brown of Calais castle and the troublesome lady Lucy, to whose company he “much resorted.” His resorting was so enthusiastic that she was soon pregnant. In the ensuing scandal, Brandon was hauled in front of the Earl of Essex’s council, where he pledged to marry her. Shortly after, though, he broke off the engagement, instead marrying Anne’s aunt, Dame Margaret Mortimer, twenty years older than him, a shock which apparently induced Anne to miscarry their child.
Charles, however, only wanted to get his hands on Dame Margaret’s assets., Selling off his wife’s portfolio of property, he pocketed the proceeds to fund his extravagant life at court: clothes, horses, and, undoubtedly, the organization for the spring 1507 jousts, into which the participants plowed their own funds.”
“…Henry Guildford was a fully paid up member of the jousting set. Both Compton and Guildford, in their different ways, were vital conduits to the world from which the prince was by in large insulated, bringing the news and gossip he craved. The talk of the town, more often than not, was Charles Brandon. Brandon’s behavior had gone from bad to worse, having jettisoned the pregnant Anne Brown to marry her aunt Dame Margaret Mortimer, Brandon, flush with the proceeds of the sale of Dame Margaret’s lands, had annulled his marriage on ground of consanguinity, and transferred his attentions back to the more fragrant Anne. As the inevitable court case ensued, late in 1507 he rode into Essex, where Anne was living in traumatized seclusion, and whisked her away. The witnesses to their shotgun marriage in Stepney Church early the following year included Brandon’s partners in crime Sir Edward Guildford, and the Earl of Surrey’s belligerent second son, Sir Edward Howard. With his limited freedom, the prince probably viewed the dashing Brandon’s liaisons with something like a scandalized, envious admiration, but there was, and always would be a strong romantic idealism in him. Brandon’s grubby, exploitative behavior may well have acquired a chivalric luster in the retelling, an adventure story in which he swooped to carry off his damsel in distress, heedless of the consequences. This, after all, was the way the prince’s own parents’ love story had been portrayed in verse, with the dashing Henry Tudor “banished fullbear” in Brittany behind the scenes coming to rescue his golden-haired bride from her lecherous uncle Richard III…”
~~~
My goddamn two cents:
These pieces of writing pretty much call out Charlie for being a total creep, and I think I love it. He was too hot and charming to give a fuck, and it sounds like he sure didn't. It's interesting that Henry VIII was so obsessed with the idea of being Chivalrous and Kind and Good, but was BFF's with someone who clearly didn't value those things. Well, not when it counted, anyway.
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anon, no, Ashley aka a fangirl woman behind Crosby/Toews Kane Interesting and Nemesis Cray blog with Toews fan IN aka Ashley Toews Girl plus more personalities or accounts, possibly Traci Crosby, Anna, Marti Snow writes her erotic fan fic about her and Tazer. On Wattpad.
You can find her steamy fictional scenes with Tazer in the shower etc in previous posts or on Wattpad. You see the title She was ardent Crosby's fan girl, sliding to Oilers now so my joke about a hot tube and McDavid. She claims different sort of ramblings, theories and projection if her issues is her typical work. She goes often after Kathy Leutner, visibly why, Marketa BLW, once Crosby's little helper according her and her rambling about those two is ,supermodel, because they have been models. She only copied M's book structure regarding changing two storylines from story of French and English Queen's Margaret of Valois and Elizabeth I to her erotic description of Tazer's undressing to si called Tazer's PE on her. Different like a day and a night, one is published historical fiction from 2015, another one is recent fan fiction by not quite right n the head aggressive fan girl changing her NHL crushes over a span of 10+ years. There are fan fics about Tazer and Kaner with erotic stuff but the author's bloggers are normal. Ash bashes any wag of her NHL targets and so women around.
She called Elina as a dingbat and she has had no interest in Hammer and the list goes on. Read her fan fic. Quite good except too graphical and if course about Tazer pounding this chick multiple times after meeting at the ice rink during Face off where she was throwing a puck. Then throwing out because she gets preggo as Tazer from multiple chances at least scored in her fan fic. If she is not so Cray and aggressive I'd say it was good read for 2 hours than a historical book even that Chuck is apparently King Charles III and Prince Harry with Meghan has had his first try before buy in the washroom.
I am Crosby Interesting has read her book because she uses the similar structure. Only difference of topic and , depth, lol. It has been around 2015, her smitten status with Crosby where she claims it is his cousin, not Kathy L in Sochi. Marketa has been at other Xmas party yesterday in a body tight glossy bottle green slinky maxi dress and silver strappy heels laughing and dancing. Looking on certain parties, wags, celebs, their houses and so is quite interesting until it is over the top
If you are Tazer's fan I recommend Ash's fan fic on Wattpad . Tazer is coached by her, he scores, he does not tell and he loses his face off crashing his peanuts in the ice seeing Ash for the first time...perfect for Christmas time.
#chicago blackhawks#jonathan toews#kathyleutner#sidney crosby#fan fic author#Fan fic#Nhl#Crosbyinteresting#Chicago blackhawks
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The Unexpected Courtship (4/13)
Other Chapters: [x]
The school day seemed to go past in the blink of an eye and, before Samuel knew it, it was over. He walked to the parking lot nervously and sat down on the steps nearby, wondering when George was going to get here. A couple of students passed him, including Charles Lee.
“Hey, Seabury.” Charles said, grinning.
“Hello.” Samuel said politely.
“So I was wondering-”
“Sam! There you are!” George suddenly appeared. “Sorry, Lee, we have to go.” Samuel got up, not at all disappointed to be leaving the conversation. For whatever reason, Lee made him feel uncomfortable.
“See you around?” He said, following George.
“You will.” Lee promised. That sounds ominous, Samuel thought. George walked to the front of the parking lot where his car was parked. Unlike many of his peers, Samuel didn’t know anything about types of cars, but even he could tell that this was a very expensive car. George sat at the driver’s seat and he sat shotgun.
Neither of them talked during the first few minutes of the trip. Samuel glanced at George. He was frowning and looked unhappy about something.
“Is anything wrong?” He finally asked.
George’s expression cleared. “No, no it’s fine.”
“Oh.” He nodded. “Well, can I do anything to help?”
George smirked. “Yes, I can definitely think of some things you can do to help.”
Samuel could feel his face turning red (why did this always happen when he was near George?) so he turned to face the window. There was silence for a while.
“So where are you from?” He asked eventually just to break the awkward silence.
George was surprised. None of his flings- or even prospective flings- had ever bothered to ask about him before.
“I’m from England, as you could probably tell from the accent and pro-British stance I had in US History.”
Samuel laughed and the sound made George’s heart flutter for some strange reason.
“That’s really cool, I’ve always wanted to go to England. I find it a really fascinating country.” Samuel said.
George smiled. “I guess I’ll have to take you there one day then.” He immediately tensed up after he said. Oh, why had he said that? Now Samuel might think that he wanted an actual relationship with him.
“I’d like that.” Samuel said, smiling shyly, and he looked so adorable that George didn’t have the heart to say anything now.
“So where are you from?” George asked, in an effort to quickly change the subject.
“I’ve lived here my whole life. I’m not a very interesting person. But tell me more about England. How is it different from here? Which part of England did you live in?”
George decided not to tell Samuel that he thought he was fascinating, and so just talked about England the entire time. The trip was over much quicker than either of them was expecting.
“Wow.” Samuel breathed. “Your house is amazing.”
“Thanks.” George said offhandedly. He had heard this a million times, and it was true. His house was, quite literally, a mansion. They entered the ginormous house.
“Is anyone here?” Samuel asked nervously.
“No, my parents are going to be in England for a month, so we’re all alone.” George explained, leading the way to his room. Samuel nodded, not sure whether to be worried or relieved about that. They both went into George’s room. He immediately flopped down on his bed and closed his eyes, Samuel standing nearby awkwardly. George cracked open an eye. “You can sit down, you know.”
“Oh, okay.” Samuel said, sitting down on the bed next to him. He took off his bag and got out his US History folder.
“So for the project, I think we should focus more on the causes of the Revolutionary War then the war itself, as it would show-”
George wrinkled his nose and waved his hand dismissively. “Ugh, we have plenty of time to do that. Why don’t we do something a little more… fun?”
Samuel gulped. He didn’t know how to respond. “Um, I think we should just finish this. I have to go home soon.”
“Well, you’re welcome to stay the night.” George said.
“We have school tomorrow, so I don’t think that’s the best idea.” Samuel said quickly. “So anyway, doing the causes for the Revolutionary War would make our project stand out as-”
George sat up. “Sammy, do you think I’m good-looking?”
“Oh course!” Samuel responded immediately. He didn’t mean to, but he was so shocked at the nickname and the thought that someone might consider George not good-looking that it had just slipped out. He stared at the bed, chagrined.
George gave him a genuine smile, not expecting that response. “And do you think I’m charming?”
“I don’t see what that has to do with our project…” Samuel trailed off uncertainly.
“Just answer the question Sam.”
“Well then, yes, I suppose.” Samuel answered truthfully.
“And are you homophobic?”
Samuel gulped. “No. I believe in letting people do whatever makes them happy, as long as what they are doing doesn’t harm themselves or others.”
George nodded, satisfied. He scooted a bit closer to Samuel. “Then why won’t you agree to go out with me?” He asked, turning his head so his clear blue eyes were staring straight into Samuel’s brown ones.
‘Um…” Samuel suddenly couldn’t breathe. George was so close to him that he couldn’t form a coherent thought.
“I mean,” George continued, moving ever so slightly closer to Samuel, “You said that you’re straight. I’m pretty sure that’s not the case, but even if it was, why don’t you agree to just one date? That’s all. Then I’ll be off your back completely. Think about it.”
“... I have to go.” Samuel muttered. He grabbed his bag and hurriedly left the room, his face as red as his hair.
George flopped down on the bed, face down.
“Seriously?” He muttered.
#my fics#my work#hamilton#hamilton: an american musical#king george iii#samuel seabury#kingbury#charles lee#the unexpected courtship#lams#leebury#gay#rarepair
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Masterlist
[ [ EXPLICT • MATURE • TEEN • ] ]
COMPLETED: fics that are completed finished.
-------------------
INTO THE ANOMALY
FANDOM: THE 100 || OC: N/A ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depiction of Violence
MAIN SHIP: Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin
PREMISE: Time Travel • Fix It • No Season 7 • Grounder culture •
STATUS: TEMPORARILY DISCONTINUED
Part I: Into The Anomaly
-
LESSONS OF NEEDLES AND BLADES
FANDOM: GAME OF THRONES || OC: N/A ||
WARNINGS: Implied/Referenced Past Sexual Assault
MAIN SHIP: Theon Greyjoy and Sansa Stark
PREMISE: Time Travel • Fix It • The Starks Live • Politicking •
STATUS: OFFICIALLY DISCONTINUED
Part I: Lessons of Needles and Blades
ACTIVE: fics that are currently on Ao3 and the story is still in progress.
-------------
BREATHE FOR ME
FANDOM: TEEN WOLF || OC: VANESSA O'CONNOR ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Depression and Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Past Drug Abuse, Explicit Depictions of Mental Illness and Panic Attacks,
MAIN SHIP: Isaac Lahey x OC
PREMISE: Fix It • Good Alpha! Derek Hale • Everybody Lives • True Mates/ Soul Mates • Pack Dynamics • Scheming • Spark! Lessons • Hunter Culture • Other Creatures • Pack Politics •
STATUS: ACTIVE & OPEN
Part I: Breathe for Me
Part II: Fight for Me
Part III: Look for Me
-
ONCE A KING OR QUEEN OF NARNIA
FANDOM: THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA || OC: LADY SYLVIA ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Brief Domestic Violence.
MAIN SHIP: Susan Pevensie x Caspian X || Edmund Pevensie x OC
PREMISE: Fix It • Angst with a Happy Ending • War • Savage! Narnia • Court Intrigue • Slow Burn • Mutual Pining • Friends to Lovers •
STATUS: ACTIVE & OPEN
Part I: a more savage narnia (than the one you left behind)
NOT ACTIVE: fics that are not on Ao3 yet but have begun writing stage.
------------------
CHILDRE OF PROPHERCY
FANDOM: HARRY POTTER || OC: MULTI ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Brief Implied/Referenced Attempted Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Racial Discrimination.
MAIN SHIP: Draco Malfoy x Hermione Granger || Multiple Others.
PREMISE: Fix It • What-If Au • Goblet of Fire • Slytherin Culture • Pureblood Culture • Gryffindor & Slytherin Alliance • Slow Burn • Enemies to Friends to Lovers (for everyone basically)
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: 4 COMPLETED, IN PROGRESS
-
THE BLOOPERVERSE
FANDOM: X-MEN (MOVIES) || OC: LOUISE "LOU" HAMMOND ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Mild Depictions of Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Xenophobic/Racial Discrimination.
MAIN SHIP: Alex Summers x OC || Charles Xavier x Erik Lehnsherr
PREMISE: Time Travel • Fix It • Everybody Lives • X-Men Missions • Days of Future Past timeline • First Class • No Dark Phoenix • Decades • Friends to Lovers •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: 1 COMPLETED
-
BORN IN A THUNDERSTORM
FANDOM: ATTACK ON TITAN || OC: CARINA GUNNER ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Blood and Gore, Character Deaths, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault.
MAIN SHIP: Jean Kirstein x OC
PREMISE: Slow Burn • Scouts • Marksmanship • Implied Polyamory • Teenagers • Angst • Hurt/Comfort • Mutual Pining • Self-Induglent • Friends to Lovers •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: 1 COMPLETED
-
FARREN THE VAMPIRE SLAYER
FANDOM: BTVS || OC: FARREN EMERSON ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Blood and Gore, Implied/Referenced Past Sexual Assault.
MAIN SHIP: Buffy Summers x Spike || Sam Lawson x OC
PREMISE: Time Travel • Fix It • Vampire slayer! OC • Enemies to Lovers • Anti-Council • Morally Grey OC • Vampire Culture • Fuck the Council! Buffy • Scheming •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: 1 COMPLETED
DRAFT IN PROGRESS: fics whose first chapter is still in progress.
---------------------------
AGENTS OF FATE
FANDOM: FAIRY TAIL || OC: KINDRED BLANCHE ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Human Trafficking, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault.
MAIN SHIP: Laxus Dreyar x OC || Multiple Others
PREMISE: Time Travel ? • Fix It • Breaking the Fourth Wall • Slow burn • Fluffy • Mutually Pining • Childhood Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers • Wizard Guilds • Magic • Angst with a Happy Ending •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: IN PROGRESS
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AS THE WORLD CAVES IN
FANDOM: MY HERO ACADEMIA || OC: MULTI ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Blood and Gore, Character Deaths, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Depictions of Human Trafficking, Depictions of Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment and Assault.
MAIN SHIP: Katsuki Bakugo x Eijiro Kirishima x Ochako Uraraka
PREMISE: Time Travel • Fix It • OCs playing Match-Maker • League of Villains Alliance • Quirk Experimentation • Mutual Pining • Angst • War • Morally Ambigious OCs • Hurt/Comfort • Multi-Ships • Polyamory • Teenagers •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: IN PROGRESS
N/A DRAFT: fics who are still in the scaffolding stage.
---------------
MINDS OF THE DAMNED
FANDOM: CRIMINAL MINDS || OC: PERSEPHONE "PERRI" SHAW ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Blood and Gore, Depictions of Emotional and Psychological Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Past Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Drug Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Explicit Depictions of Torture, Explicit Depictions of Mental Health Issues and Panic Attacks.
MAIN SHIP: Spencer Reid x OC
PREMISE: Angst • Cases • Trauma • Hurt/Comfort • Fluff • Romance • Mutual Pining • Psychological Profiling • Team-Bonding • Torture • Sexual Tension • Friends to Lovers • Slow Burn •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: N/A
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MYRIAD OF SCARS
FANDOM: WOLFBLOOD || OC: NIAMH O'CONNOR ||
WARNINGS: Mild Depictions of Violence.
MAIN SHIP: Rhydian Morris x Madison Smith || OC x OC
PREMISE: Fix It • Wolfbloods • Pack Dynamics • Pack Politics • Wild Wolfbloods • Teenagers • Enemies to Friends to Lovers • Mutual Pining • Banter • Friendship • Hurt/Comfort • Angst •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: N/A
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SHE WAS THE FIRST
FANDOM: THE MAZE RUNNER || OC: ADELAIDE "ADA" PAIGE ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Blood and Gore, Depictions of Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Emotional and Psychological Manipulation, Character Deaths.
MAIN SHIP: Thomas x Newt || OC x OC
PREMISE: Fix It • Newt Lives • Amnesia • Long Lost Friend • Angst • Betrayal • Hurt/Comfort • Mutual Pining • Sexual Tension • Missions • Childhood Friends to Enemies to Friends to Lovers •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: N/A
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THE BABYSITTER CLUB
FANDOM: STRANGER THINGS || OC: Multi.
WARNINGS: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Blood and Gore, Depictions of Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Aftermath of Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Past Domestic Abuse, Depictions of Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Verbal Abuse, Depictions of Homophobia, Depictions of Racism, Explicit Depictions of Mental Heath Issues and Panic Attacks.
MAIN SHIP: Steve Harrington x Billy Hargrove || Multiple Others
PREMISE: Fix It • Upside Down Exploration • BAMF! Barb • Billy Hargrove Redemption • LGBT Relationships • 80s • Monster Hunting • Babysitting • The Party • Russians • Poly Relationships • Experimentation • Powers • Enemies to Friends to Lovers • Sexual Tension • Banter • Dark Themes •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: N/A
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THE CHAOS THEORY
FANDOM: JURASSIC PARK || OC: JULIA SIMMONS ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Blood and Gore, Explicit Depictions of Mental Heath Issues and Panic Attacks.
MAIN SHIP: Ian Malcom x OC
PREMISE: Canon Divergence • Catching Feelings • Flirting • Exploring the Park • Dinosaurs • Guns • Rover • Corruption • Missions • InGen Being Stupid • Morally Ambiguous OC •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: N/A
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THE SEDA SERIES
FANDOM: STAR WARS || OC: SERINA SEDA ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Character Deaths, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Emotional/Psychological Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Racism, Explicit Depictions of Mental Heath Issues and Panic Attacks.
MAIN SHIP: OC x OC || Multiple Others
PREMISE: Fix It • The Clone Wars • Obi Wan Kenobi's Padawan! OC • Ahsoka Tano/OC BROTP • Politics • Grey!Jedi Beliefs • Force Bonds • Force Visions • Jedi and Clones Falling for Pretty Senators • Except Bly • Clone Friendships • Enemies to Friends to Lovers • Bickering • Flirting Lightsaber Duels • Wartime • Hurt/Comfort • Angst • Mutual Pining • Slow Burn •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: IN PROGRESS
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THE SURVIVORS SERIES
FANDOM: RESIDENT EVIL || OC: KYLIE PRYCE ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Extreme Blood, Vomit and Gore, Explicit Depiction of Injury, Character Deaths, Mild Sexual Harassment and Assault, Depictions of Experimentation, Depictions of Human Trafficking, Mild Depictions of Depression and Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse, Explicit Depictions of Mental Health Issues and Panic Attacks.
MAIN SHIP: Claire Redfield x Leon S. Kennedy x OC
PREMISE: Zombie Virus • Resident Evil 2 • Polyamorous Relationship • Missions • Blood • Gore • Sexual Tension • Guns • Strangers to Friends to Lovers • Trauma-Bonding • Angst • Hurt/Comfort • Near-Death Experiences • Travelling • Flirting • Self-Indulgent •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: N/A
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THE TWIN RANGERS
FANDOM: POWER RANGERS || OC: TAMSIN "TAMMY" OLIVER ||
WARNINGS: Mild Depictions of Violence, Temporary Character Death, Brief Depiction of Domestic Violence, Depictions of Alcohol Abuse, Mild Depictions of Mental Health Issues and Panic Attacks.
MAIN SHIP: Jason Lee Scott x OC || Trini Kwan x Kimberly Hart
PREMISE: 2017 Movie • Teenagers • Romance • White Ranger! OC • Mute! OC • Speech Impairment • Vocal Injury • Implied/Referenced Sign Language • LGBT Relationship • OC/Kimberly Hart BROTP • Bonding • Friendship • Crushing • Flirting • Martial Arts • Training • Mutual Pining • Hurt/Comfort • Angst • Friends to Lovers •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: N/A
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TRUE BLUE
FANDOM: PACIFIC RIM || OC: INDIANNA "INDY" TAYLOR ||
WARNINGS: Graphic Depiction of Violence, Minor Character Deaths, Explicit Description of Injury, Depiction of Facial Scarring, Implied/Referenced Attempted Sexual Assault and Harassment, Implied/Referenced Depression and Suicidal Thoughts, Explicit Depiction of Mental Heath Issues and Panic Attacks.
MAIN SHIP: Chuck Hansen x OC || Raleigh Becket x Mako Mori
PREMISE: Australia • Co-Pilots • Enemies to Friends to Lovers • Drift Compatibility • Drift Bond • Sexual Tension • Flirting • Banter • Sparring • The Academy • Kaiju • War • Battle • Hurt/Comfort • Scarring • Trauma • Mutual Pining •
STATUS: NOT ACTIVE
DRAFT: N/A
N/A PLANNED: fics that have a basic concept and nothing else.
FANDOM: CURSED.
FANDOM: FEAR/ THE WALKING DEAD.
FANDOM: HUNGER GAMES.
FANDOM: PERCY JACKSON.
FANDOM: PRETTY LITTLE LIARS.
FANDOM: SUPERNATURAL.
FANDOM: THE VAMPIRE DIARIES/ THE ORIGINALS.
•••• If you have any questions, feel free to ASKD! ••••
#oc community#ocs#occommunity#writers of tumblr#fanfic writers#oc content#fanfiction#attack on titan#teen wolf#pacific rim#power rangers#the 100#game of thrones#ocappreciation#the chronicles of narnia#wolfblood#xmen movies#harry potter#buffy the vampire slayer#stranger things#star wars#star wars the clone wars#resident evil#jurassic park#criminal minds#fairy tail#my hero academia#masterlist
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Butler Pt. 6
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The King stayed by Aaron's side the entire time. He canceled two meetings and rescheduled his relaxing spa treatment to tomorrow. King also ordered the guards to send the chef to the dungeon until further notice. Once he did that he quickly ordered them to gag the man because he was screaming so loud. The king had claimed: "My butler is trying to sleep you idiots.
Meanwhile, back in the colonies, there had been lots of talk about what had happened to Lieutenant Colonel Aaron Burr. General Richard Montgomery had sent his best spies to the other camps only to turn up empty. He sent letters to every trustworthy general in the colonies, and yet Aaron Burr was nowhere to be found. Montgomery even sent a letter to General Andre and still Burr was missing.
Currently, the stressed general was sitting at his desk writing a letter to congress. He wanted to go to Britain to find Aaron. Sure, Richard could send a spy, but he really didn't trust that very much. That, and way deep in his heart, Richard had to find Aaron himself.
"General Montgomery. You have work in the morning." Lee mumbled from the tent flap, General Prescott next to him. Prescott looked tired as ever considering he was being woken up at such a late hour to check on some idiot general. Sure, Prescott was an idiot general too, but at least he went to sleep at a proper hour.
Monty snapped, "Shut up, Lee. I... He's got to be alive somewhere, right? Burr would never die, he doesn't give up like that." Lee rolled his eyes and walked into the tent. He gestured for Prescott to come in too. Prescott gulped and reluctantly walked in as well. Richard set his quill down and watched as General Lee shrugged his coat off and leaned forward on his desk.
"You need to relax," Lee whispered, caressing Monty's cheek. Richard gulped and licked his lips, fiddling with the wedding ring on his finger. "Let me help you." Richard closed his eyes and slouched a bit in defeat. Prescott, once he saw that the plan was in motion, took his jacket off too and began unlacing his boots. Richard opened his eyes and growled a little.
"Fine."
Aaron's head was a throbbing and aching mess. Whenever he looked around, things tended to blur together or spin. So he instead kept his eyes closed, happy with whatever warmth was resting on his hand. Once he heard the familiar clinking noise of the metal of King's rings, he knew what the warmth. Instead of harshly pulling away and scowling as usual, Aaron accepted the contact and let King hold his hand. Only until he fully wakes up.
King whispered, "Are you alright, my handsome prince." Aaron hid his smile but was still happy that King wasn't using female targeted compliments like before. He nodded a little and winced at the migraine in his head.
"I've got a migraine." Aaron mumbled, his voice scratchy and rough. Maybe that was from the sobbing, maybe it was some screaming he doesn't remember. He wasn't sure, and frankly didn't want to know.
King replied, "I sent the guards into town to get you more medicine." He sighed. "What's the ring on your finger if I may ask?"
Aaron replied with salt, "None of your concern," He mocked, "your majesty." Aaron pulled his hand away and was a bit surprised by the whine King let out at the loss. He opened his eyes and looked up at the royalty. King was sitting on the bed next to Aaron, but he was above the blankets while Aaron was beneath them.
King sighed and looked at the window. "It's almost night time. I would have woken you so your sleeping schedule wasn't messed up, but... Well, you looked very peaceful. And I think you needed the sleep. Escaping takes a lot out of you, huh?" Burr chuckled a little.
"How would you know?" He mumbled.
King answered, "I've escaped a place before. Many times actually. Usually this castle whenever assassins show up about once a month or two."
"Wait what do you mean-"
"Never mind that though! We need to discuss the death penalty!"
Aaron froze. He paled as King stood up and began walking to the door. Aaron was out of his bed immediately and dropping to his knees before King George. He began rambling, "I-I'm sorry that I freaked out while I was working and I slept all d-day and got nothing done I know I shouldn't have been s-s-so childish please don't sentence me to death I promise you I'll do b-better your highness I'll never back talk you again I-I swear on my life I won't I'm so sorry-"
King interrupted, "It's not your death sentence, Aaron. Please calm down... Oh my god..." He got on the ground and tilted Aaron's head up. He smiled and kissed his head. "I would never hurt you my pet." Aaron relaxed a little, and his face was now a deep shade of red. King giggled and stood up. Aaron shakily stood up as well, realizing how weak he was at the moment.
He leaned on the dresser for support, whimpering a little at the migraine in his head. King carefully picked Aaron up, holding him to his chest and peppering his face with kisses. The young butler gladly accepted the affection and let the King take him back over to the bed. This time, however, King crawled into bed with Aaron and pulled him close to his chest. Of course he was still in full king's uniform though, which was a bit uncomfortable.
Aaron whispered, "Could you... Could you take off your, um..." He blushed and looked away. King smiled and stood up.
"Only if you do too~" He teased, shutting the bedroom door and beginning to undress. King took off his cape first, then his jacket, and then his shoes. He dropped everything on the ground, not bothering to fold anything. Aaron blushed and looked away as the king began to take his pants and briefs off. He got undressed as well, simply shrugging his butler's jacket off and taking the cravat off as well. Next he took his socks off.
Aaron hesitated at the pants not sure what exactly to do. He blushed and gasped as two arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. King was standing behind him with no shirt, just some briefs. Aaron carefully unbuttons his pants, slipping them off and blushing still. He was wearing more feminine underwear that day, mostly just because he liked the way they fit on him. Aaron had never been planning on having anybody see them.
"You look adorable in those, my prince." King whispered, placing a gentle kiss to the back of his neck. Aaron blushed and turned around to meet his king's eyes. "Who's ring?" King whispered, taking Aaron's hand and getting a closer look at the ring. There was a signature written on the silver ring, but King couldn't seem to tell who's name it was. The handwriting was chicken scratch to him.
Aaron whispered, "Richard Montgomery."
King gasped dramatically. "Your general? How lewd, Burr!" He giggled and pulled Aaron to the bed, laying down. Aaron sighed and payed down next to him. He was laying a foot away from him, but King didn't like that very much. So king wrapped his legs and arms around Aaron, trapping him in a mandatory spooning session. Aaron sighed and let himself be held.
No point in escaping anyway, he's too strong. Aaron thought, And too beautiful. But that's another story. Dammit, Aaron, stop being so in love with this man. Stockholm syndrome might as well be my middle name at this point.
#kingburr#Aaron Burr#King George III#Butler#Hamilton fic#Richard Montgomery#Charles Lee#General Prescott#Hamilton AU#hamilton fanfiction#hamilton fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#fic#au#butler au#fuck the chef#chef guy
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