#duke of oxford x conrad

[randomingoftherandomness]

[Fic] Tesco Liminal - 00q, Conrad x Duke of Oxford; Rated G

A/N: My eternal thanks to @stebeee for listening to me vomit fic ideas x

Tags: Crossover, AU, Established Relationship, Alternate Universe - Not Related

[Edit 26/7/19: Have just been informed that Matthew Vaughn did a trailer breakdown for Empire magazine and he confirms that Conrad and the Duke are actually Father and Son. Have now added the 'Not Related' tag]

[Read on AO3]

DO NOT REPOST

@colourr-ing @genderqueernerd @andwebegin

–

Bond endures two bony stabs of an elbow to his side before he looks up from reading the labels of the yoghurt cups. “What?” He says, not a little miffed when he sees Q craning his neck to look out to the other aisle.

“Bond, did you see?”

“See what?”

Q whirls around and frowns. Eyes burning with a driven intensity that has Bond cued in to the gravitas of the here and now. Grabbing the yoghurts, he shoves them back onto the shelf, tugging Bond along behind him as he scurries across the brightly lit Tesco floor, and round to the cereal section. Bond bites back the long-suffering sigh that bubbles up within him; long since learned that when his lover gets it within his head to do something, there really isn’t any stopping him.

“Do you see him? The young man with the brown hair in the well-tailored coat?” Bond tilts his head for a better look, picking up a box of instant Quaker oats, he nods, keeping tabs on said man. He isn’t sure where Q is going with this, or what he must’ve seen to cause his deep interest, but Bond is willing to ride this one out. Their dinner plans can wait.

The man in question is contemplating jams, pale lashes curtaining his eyes, lips twisted in thought as he rocks the jars in his hands. Bond reckons that he is probably far more athletic in build under that coat - vintage? - but it is the way he turns at the call of a smooth familiar voice that has Bond freezing up.

“Conrad, what about these?”

M strides past them, shoes falling on the floor in rhythmic beats. The top buttons of his shirt is undone, tie gone. There is a relaxed quality to his smile, and when the man looks up from his jams and a smile graces his plush lips, there is a bright and almost fond light in his blue eyes.

Q wraps a deceptively soft hand around his wrist and pulls him to a corner. Together, they pretend to consider the merits between Peaches and Cream, and Blueberries and Cream while unsureptiously spying on what looks like their boss and his… Boyfriend? Lover? The way M rakes his eyes over his Conrad’s face is anything but familial.

They look on as M steps closer to the man, smiling as they lean into each other, head bent close. Bond can’t help but be charmed by the way M’s hand lingers on the younger man’s waist, body language clear with familairity and ease. Q seems to have come to the same conclusion that this was clearly as private a moment a couple could have in a place like Tescos at three in the morning.

He’s struck by a realisation, in that moment, turning to Q; the way M looks at his Conrad, is more than a little, exactly like the way he looks at Q. Bond has to stifle the urge to laugh then. Feeling like a voyeur, he slides a hand over Q’s shoulder, steering him back to the milk.

“Come on. There’s nothing to see here,” He murmurs, pressing a brief kiss to the side of his head. Q, to his credit, doesn’t disagree.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Mallory,” Conrad’s eyes twinkle with mischief and teasing. “Your men are horrible at spycraft.”

He sighs, bagging their groceries and loading them back into the trolley. Bond and Q will be too professional to bring this little discovery of theirs up in the office, but he does feel disconcerted that they would be bumping into each other in a Tesco of all places.

“Mallory?”

Conrad’s touch on the back of his hand is light. “Not everyone can be Kingsmen, you know?” He chuckles, slipping their palms together. Conrad smiles, and gives the trolley a push.

“I’m sure that if you talked to Harry, he’d open up a slot for you without question,” Conrad says.

M laughs then, walking in step with him into the rain drenched asphalt of the deserted parking lot. He doesn’t have quite the heart to tell him that Harry has been asking him about it at least once a year over a glass of Whiskey since their trainee days.

#the king's man #kingsman #james bond #00q #qbond #Conrad X Duke of Oxford #007 #gab writes stuff #crossover #coxford #duke of oxford x conrad

[eykismyfav]

Quite Possibly the Stupidest Person I Have Ever Met

Requested: Yes! Anon

Request: Hey! Anything Kingsman with Conrad Oxford when you’re up for it x

Summery: Conrad is one of the most stubborn hard headed people you know which is why you know the boy would never listen to his father's reason. 

Genre: Fluff a sprinkling of agnst then fluffy at the end

Warnings: There is cross dressing female to male if you don’t like that don’t read it. Swearing, Violence, Reader kills some people somewhat graphically happens very quickly towards the end. 

Pairing: Conrad x Fem!Reader

Characters: Polly, Conrad, Shola, Orlando, Kitchener, Morton, Rasputin, King George, Archie Reid

Authors note: Conrad was an idiot but I won’t let him die. I’m sorry for the emotional rollercoaster of a one shot while simultaneously not sorry at all. DO NOT BIND YOUR CHEST WITH BANDAGES AND DON’T BIND IF YOU ARE DOING INTENSIVE PHYSICAL ACTIVITY PLEASE BIND SAFELY THIS IS A FICTIONAL STORY YOUR ARE REAL.

Kingsman Requests are Open

Word Count: 2.9k+ (I really went overboard here I hope you like it.)

The King’s Man Masterlist

“That boy is nothing but trouble...” You mumble mostly to yourself as you and Polly observe Shola and Conrad sparring with daggers covered in powder.

“You're not wrong.” Polly responds, chuckling slightly, raising her gun to shoot the dagger out of Shola’s hand. “Conrad, you have a guest,” she nods her head towards you before continuing. “And an appointment so go get ready!” 

“Of course!” He shouts back, nodding his head in your direction with a slight smirk. “Lady L/N, enjoying the view?” His playfulness is still there after not seeing you for nearly a year. You have finished your “Schooling”. You had actually been training with the same person who trained Polly in order to know how to fight and defend yourself already being a part of the Duke’s network, but Conrad wasn’t allowed to know such things.

“Bloody hell Conrad go put a shirt on already I do not have all day!” You comment rolling your eyes before entering the house.

“Oh Y/N! What are you doing here my dear?” You heard Orlando call from down the hall followed by his confident strides and the even tapping of his cane.  You meet him halfway opening your arms for a hug which he gladly accepted with a smile. It had been to long since you had 

“Just thought I would come by for an impromptu visit, but it seems I don’t have the best timing. What is this appointment Conrad has?” You ask the older man you had grown to see as a father figure with how often you found yourself at his home. 

“His first suit fitting at Kingsman tailors.” He answers giving you a good once over. “You are more than welcome to join...I am sure Conrad would not be opposed to the idea.” The older man smirks as heat quickly rises to your cheeks.

“I might just have to take you up on that offer.” You smile slyly.

You wait patiently for Conrad in the common space outside of the fitting room when you see Kitchener enter with his right hand man Morton. Like Orlando you had known Kitchener for a very long time and have actually met the man through the Duke of Oxford.

“General Kitchener? What a pleasant surprise it has been a while.” You announce your presence raising to your feet. 

“Miss L/N how have you been? What are you doing at a tailor shop?” He responds quirking one of his bushy eyebrows at you.

“I have been well just finishing up my schooling. I am actually waiting for our mutual friends the Oxford’s to finish up their fitting...” You pause gauging the General's reaction. ‘‘But you already knew they were here didn’t you?” You ask quietly with a sly smirk.

“You were always pretty quick to catch onto things. Is it that obvious?” He leans in and questions curiously.

“Orlando will figure it out, Conrad won’t know.” You inform him, smiling up at the older gentleman. 

“Fitting room 3 is ready for you Sir.” The tailor announces getting a nod from the General and Morton.

“Have a good fitting Kitch.” You smile.

“Thank you my dear.” He smiles back.

After an hour of sitting and waiting Conrad and Orlando exit the fitting room. Hearing the door open you look up and your breath catches in your throat and heat rushes to your cheeks when you see Conrad. The bastard looked damn good in a suit and judging by the smirk on his face he knew it.  

“So...what do you think?” Conrad’s question lingers for a minute as you stand up and walk over to him, taking the lapels of his new suit jacket, straightening it slightly.

“You look great Conrad.” You look into his eyes. “Like a true gentleman if you ask me.” You whisper quietly, getting lost for a moment.

“Thank you.” He whispers back. 

Behind you another fitting room door opens looking over Conrad's shoulder you make eye contact with his father and roll your eyes causing him to smile after he sees who exited the fitting room.

“General Kitchener...” Orlando starts talking to his old friend but you zone them out focusing instead on Conrad’s reaction to the sudden appearance of the two new men. He had quickly turned you around to face the men and wrapped his arm snuggly around your waist pulling you into his side. This action did not go unnoticed by anyone in the room and you had to lower your head, shaking it slightly, hiding your smile at his rather protective action.

“Perhaps we should continue this conversation in private?” Orlando’s question peaks your interest.

“May I recommend the Pattern Room, it's upstairs second door on the left.” The Tailor spoke up.

“Perfect! Morton, would you mind entertaining these two?” Kitchener asks.

“Of course Sir.” Morton answers, giving a curt nod. 

Morton, Conrad and yourself sit down in the common area. Conrad sits on the couch beside you while Morton takes a seat in one of the upholstered chairs. 

There was something off with Morton. He seemed nice enough holding a pleasant conversation with Conrad he never addressed you. The way he presented himself made you uncomfortable; it felt ingenuine like he was just playing a part. The more you thought about it the more you realised tragedy seemed to follow the man Emily’s death, Orlando’s injury, and the fact Kitchener seemed to back rather stupid and rash military decisions when he was around. Also the fact he seemed to be actively trying to recruit Conrad to the military was not getting him any points from you. Perhaps you were reading too much into this. You look him up and down again and release a slight sigh you could not figure it out. 

“Are you alright Y/N?” Conrad asks, concerned about your shift in mood wrapping his free arm around your shoulder.

“Hmm...Oh yes sorry I must have spaced out for a moment.” You rise to your feet. “If you’ll both please excuse me I need to freshen up. I'll only be a moment.” Both men nod as you make your way upstairs. 

Once upstairs you approach the Pattern Room and knock lightly before entering.

“Miss L/N this is a private matter, what are you doing here?” Kitchener says his voice filled with authority and had you been anyone else it may have scared you. You however turn to Orlando and give him a look that could be read as ‘Is this bitch serious right now’ to which he rolls his eyes. 

“She can be here.” Orlando says beckoning you further into the room. 

“Hopefully this conversation will be more mentally stimulating than the one downstairs. Morton seems to have an issue with me.” You mumble joining Orlando’s side. “Also Kitch tell your right hand man to stop trying to recruit children, it is not a good look.” You bite out knowing that it wasn’t really his fault.

“I’ll speak about it with him Y/N.” He nods lightly acknowledging your request. “As we were saying, I need you to visit the Archduke and convince him to come back to London for his own safety.” Kitch clarifies what needed to happen, probably to fill you in more than to convince Orlando.

“If I may, I think you should go Orlando and take Conrad with you. It will do you both some good.” This gets you an approving nod from the general and a scowl from the Duke. “Oh don’t give me that look you know I am right. As much as I have loved this chat I should get back downstairs soon so as to not look suspicious.” You abruptly turn and exit the room. 

“She is just like Emily.” Kitch says before you are out of earshot.

“I know she is. She keeps Conrad in line.” Orlando comments.

“She keeps you in line too my old friend.” This comment earns a chuckle from both men and a smile from you before you rejoin Conrad and Morton.

You sit in the hidden room in between Shola and Polly fiddling with a throwing knife waiting for Orlando to join you.  The door opens and Orlando walks in accompanied by Conrad.

“About fucking time!” You exclaim smiling as you jump up and pull Conrad into a hug. “Welcome to the team.” You whisper into his ear pulling away you notice a slight tint of red overtake his face. “So what is the plan?” You ask turning to Orlando.

“Well it would seem we are going to Russia ourselves.” Orlando sighs. 

“It seems we have a monk to kill.” Shola adds.

Well killing Rasputin was an absolute shit show. On the bright side he was dead, Orlando’s leg was miraculously healed and you were all alive so all and all it could be considered a win. Yay. Now you are adding the candles to Conrad’s birthday cake helping Polly.

“You should tell him Y/N.” Polly’s voice shatters the peaceful silence.

“Tell who what? Polly you are going to be more specific.” You ask innocently looking up at her slightly confused.

 “Don’t play stupid with me. Tell Conrad you love him already. I honestly do not understand how he hasn’t figured it out on his own! He clearly loves you too, he's just an idiot who doesn’t know how to express his feelings.” 

“Oh I know it’s pretty funny to watch.” 

“The two of you are hopeless.” She shakes her head lightly giggling at your antics.

“Conrad please why do you so desperately want to join this bloody war!?” You shout at the man. No. The boy in front of you. For months he had been begging his father to join the fight and you had finally reached a breaking point.

“Because Y/N it is the noble thing to do! And there is nothing you nor my father can do to stop me now! I am an adult and I don't need anyone’s permission!” Conrad growls back.

“Noble...noble...there is nothing noble about this fight. You must be an idiot to believe that. Millions of men are dying Conrad, those families don’t even have bodies to bury. Those are millions of families that instead of getting their son, husbands, fathers back they get a letter! I want you Conrad NOT a piece of FUCKING PAPER! How is that so hard for you to wrap your thick fucking head around?” You feel tears springing up begging to fall but you don’t let them. “You are quite possibly the stupidest person I have ever met Conrad...the bravest stupidest person.” You pause for a moment pulling a small parcel from your pocket. “Do me a favor though since you are so determined to go...” You pause handing Conrad the parcel filled with sunflower seeds. “Keep these in your pocket that way if you die at least something beautiful will come from it.” You wipe away a few stray tears. “If you have a death wish I will not stand by and watch you get yourself killed. I love you too much to do that.” You don’t give him time to respond before walking out of the room. 

“Y/N?” Shola asks.

“Send for me when he joins. Until then I need to get away from him. I am sorry.” You ask the man, tears trickling down your face. 

“Of course my lady.” 

“Thank you.” And with that you left the house.

When Shola shows up at your door telling you he joined the war there was a rush of a lot of emotions: anger, fear, sadness, bitterness, and motivation. 

“Shola, I need to have a meeting with Orlando and Polly.” 

“Of course I’ll drive you there.” 

“Thank you Shola.”

“Y/N are you sure this is a good idea?” Polly asks taking your measurements in order to tailor you a uniform.

“Oh it’s probably a terrible idea but I know Conrad and he won’t take a desk job. And I will not let him die if I can do something about it.” You respond by wrapping your chest in order to bind your chest. “Orlando hates this plan but he has to acknowledge that I am doing it for the right reasons.”

“He knows that Y/N but he thinks of you as his daughter and the idea of losing both of you is a lot for him.” 

“I will do my best to make sure he doesn’t lose either of us. I promise.”

That is how you ended up crawling through no man's land between the trenches next to Conrad - who for the record does not even know it is you -  in the middle of the night hoping to find the information the spy was carrying. It was not going well when six German soldiers showed up in front of you. A few of the British soldiers went for their guns but you knew better grabbing your knife waiting for your opponent to attack first.

As soon as the german lunged for you you dodge grabbing their gas mask tilting their head back and slit their throat. You look behind you to see three of the British men dead and Conrad struggling to make his first kill. You felt bad but another German was coming at you so you could not help him. You pin the next guy stabbing him in the chest and standing up quickly. You take care of one more on your own before stabbing the man your commander was struggling in the back and throwing the knife into the head of the last man who had Conrad pinned down. 

Now it was only Conrad, you, and your commanding officer. During the struggle your hat came off and your hair came loose. At that moment it was very obvious you were a woman. You walk over to Conrad and pull him up and retrieve your knife from the dead man's head before rejoining the officer. You stand there in silence for a moment waiting for the officer to say something and when he doesn’t electing instead to stare at you in complete and utter disbelief you decide to start walking towards where the spy's body would be. 

“Wait Ma’am what are you doing here? How did no one notice.” The officer asks Conrad nods, looking equally confused. 

“Now really doesn’t seem like the best time Sir. We should find the documents he was carrying then we can discuss the fact you not only took a woman on your mission but also The Duke of Oxford’s son who is supposed to be in London sharpening pencils.” You snarl back glaring at Conrad. “So I need you to listen to my next words very very carefully.” You say turning to the officer jabbing your finger in his chest. “We are going to retrieve this document NOW and as soon as we get back you take me and that man.” You point to Conrad. “Straight back to London or so help me god I will take my knife and stab it straight through your right hand...Do I make myself clear Sir?” You growl out very tired and very done with the entire situation.

“Understood Ma’am.” The officer gulps. 

“Good.”

And that was exactly what happened: you found the document and the spy who was carried back to safety and a medic while you and Conrad were taken back to London. 

As soon as you get there you are met by King George, Orlando, and the man you would come to know as Archie Reid. 

“Both of you have committed several crimes and risked the lives of countless others with your actions.” The king begins what feels like will be a very long speech.

“Yes we did your majesty, however we also recovered the original transcript of the message the Kaiser sent to his embassy and likely saved more lives than we risked. And with all due respect I am exhausted, covered in blood that is not mine and extremely hungry so if this speech could wait that would be ideal.” You remark as calmly as possible, shoving the document into the King’s hand before grabbing Conrad by the arm and dragging him away.

“Let them go...they have a lot to talk about.” Orlando says watching the two of you walk away.

“Are you done playing hero now Conrad?” You ask once you are out of earshot of the others in a private room. 

“Yes Y/N I’m sorry you and my father were right.” Conrad whimpers softly.

“Of fucking course we were! We were trying to protect you! You need to listen to the people who care about you.” You all but groan resting your forehead on his chest. “You are so dense sometimes.”

“I’m sorry...” He says before he breaks down into tears falling into your arms.

“It’s okay...shh...shh...it’s okay it’s all going to be okay I promise.” You mutter into his hair lovingly. The two of you stay like that for a while, him cryinging into your shoulder and you rubbing his back whispering sweet nothings into his hair. After about thirty minutes he calms down enough to speak.

“You didn’t give me time to say it back.” He mumbled so quietly you almost missed it. 

“Say what back?” You question back pulling away holding his face between your hands.

“I love you too. I love you so much and I almost died without being able to tell you that. I love you, I love you, I love you!” He all but screams. You smile softly at him.

“Good thing I went after you huh? I love you too...” You mutter pulling him down and kissing him for the first time but certainly not the last.

Taglist - @nik2write @registerednursejackie​​ @lostsmolpotato 

#conrad oxford x reader #conrad oxford #the king's man #the king's man one shot #general kitchener #morton #polly #shola #orlando oxford #the duke of oxford #rasputin #king george #archie reid

[yourchocolatenachostudent]

«I loved him. I lost him. I buried him.»

—  He just wanted to protect his boy.

#the king's man #duke of oxford #orlando oxford #conrad oxford #ralph fiennes #harris dickinson #oxfordcest #orlando x conrad

[anmactireaonair]

Failed Rescue Attempt

Summary: Reader has been kidnapped and Orlando must try and save them. First Person POV.

Words: 757

AN: This is set a few years before the movie. The reader and Orlando have been together for a few years. Again I did my best to make it GN, but I apologize if I missed something. I hope you all enjoy!

I try not to smile too much as I sit in my prison cell made of pillows. I am currently being guarded by my three sons: Conrad, age 11; Junior, age 5; and Liam, age 3. Conrad is really staying focused on the task of keeping me hostage, but Junior and Liam are quickly losing concentration and are starting to hit each other with their weapons of choice: pillows. Before I can tell them to stop hitting each other Conrad urgently says, “Stop! I think I hear him coming!”

Suddenly, both Junior and Liam stop mid-hit and stand at a comical child’s version of attention with their pillows ready to attack. Now that they are all quiet, I can hear the tell-tale sign that Orlando is approaching, the extra click of a cane hitting the floor in time with his footsteps. His current gait however was different from his normal cadence; he was trying to be sneaky.

The boys all tighten their grips on their pillows as their father gets closer to the partially open door leading to their playroom where I was currently held hostage. I hear Orlando’s footsteps stop right outside the door as his shadow lingers in the open space of the doorway. Sounding very serious, but I could hear the smile in his voice Orlando says, “Now, I wonder where those little pilferers could be? Maybe they are further down the hall.” Slowly Orlando starts to walk away, much to the delight of our sons.

The boys start giggling as Orlando takes a couple steps away from the playroom; then before they could prepare Orlando comes bursting into the room. “AHA! I’ve found you scoundrels! Now, give me back my Love or else.” Orlando raises his right hand, mock-threateningly, which is holding one of the pillows from our bed.

Playing the "damsel in distress" I call out to Orlando, “Oh, my love! You’ve come to save me!” My left hand clutches my shirt over my heart, and I rest the back of my right hand against my forehead, pretending to swoon. Locking eyes with Orlando I can see the immense joy he is feeling playing together as a family. Just as the boys yell out and charge at Orlando, I see a quick there-and-gone look of worry as his eyes flick to his left leg and back at the boys.

Orlando raises his pillow and tries to defend against our three boys, but he is no match for three rambunctious healthy boys. Within a minute they have Orlando on his back disarmed with his cane a few feet away. The boys have no hesitation in climbing on their father, dog piling on his torso. Even as young as they are they know to be cautious with their father’s left leg. Chuckling Orlando surrenders, “Alright, alright. I surrender. You scoundrels win, you can keep my Love… for now.”

The boys all dissolve into giggles and go from dog piling on their father to hugging him. Feeling left out, I call out, “Hey! What about me? Can I get in on this group hug?” Without even saying anything, Liam runs over to me and practically drags me over to Orlando and pulls me down to the floor. I position myself against Orlando’s left side – trying to protect his leg as much as I can with my own body – and am instantaneously crushed by our sons who are sprawling over Orlando and myself. I smile at Orlando and sarcastically say, “Thanks for the great rescue. You’re such a knight in shining armor.”

He nudges me in the side with his elbow, and remarks back, “Well, if you didn’t let yourself be kidnapped this wouldn’t be a problem.” I laugh out loud and lean over to kiss him, which of course makes the boys all go “eww…” and they climb off us. Turning his head so he is looking right at me Orlando says sincerely and tenderly, “I will always come for you, no matter the odds.”

Leaning my forehead against his I whisper affectionately, “And I you, Orlando.” We lean in for a kiss at the same time, and before we could get too lost in each other, we were suddenly under attack as pillows start hitting us. The boys are yelling out war cries as Orlando and I try to find some pillows to defend ourselves with while laughing. I love the time we get to spend together as a family and have fun, even if I am forced into being the "damsel in distress".

#my wriitng #ralph fiennes #duke of oxford #orlando oxford #the king's man #orlando oxford x reader #King's Man fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #my fic #gender neutral imagine #x gender neutral reader #The King's Man x reader #conrad oxford #Duke of Oxford x reader

[conrad-oxford]

Allergies

Pairing: Conrad Oxford x Reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 976

Warning: none

Summary: Conrad’s allergies have him come to you for comfort.

The grounds of the manor are vibrant with the arrival of spring, the orchards no longer barren, and bursts of color now dot the immaculately kept gardens. You long to reopen the window and feel the fresh air fill your lungs and for the sun to warm your skin, but the slight breeze of the morning had picked up to a speed that does not bode well for the painting you have been painstakingly working on for the past week. 

Your view from the library of Oxford manor is good enough that you feel slightly guilty for thinking it could be better. The glass plains of the window are spotless, perfect for looking down on where Shola and Conrad had been sparring before. You assume that it had been just minutes before that Conrad’s gloriously sculpted back muscles had glistened with sweat, distracting you from your painting, but down in the field there is no one. You frown and turn your attention back to the large painting, the great progress you’ve made toward completing today’s designated part of the landscape telling you that quite some time has passed since you last saw Conrad out on the field. You feel heat rise in your cheeks as you remember Conrad right before his sparring, his eyes scanning the large and proud face of the back of the manor before landing on you and waving. It embarrasses you that he knows that you watch, that you had been doing so since before you had tumbled into love with him, and that he likes it. Polly had not so subtly suggested once, after watching the pre-sparring wave, that Conrad enjoyed showing off to you specifically. That had left you with a warm feeling in your chest for days on end.

You sigh after your semi-critical examination of the painting’s progress, stepping away to lay yourself down on the couch Conrad had dragged across the library for you. The painting is going well and should be done in just enough time for Duke Oxford’s birthday. The Duke had been insisting you call him by his first name, Orlando, but you’re still wary of whether or not he believes you worthy of his son. You had felt the same way at first, mystified but quite flattered by Conrad’s affections, but since you noticed one of your rings had disappeared to return a few days later, you have had complete confidence in his love for you. You feel as if you have been exuding a glow for days now, merely at the so far unconfirmed prospect that Conrad wishes to propose to you. If he does, though it seems more of a when than an if, you will say yes, you have no hesitations and no reservations in that fact.

A quiet shuffling breaks your respite, and you crack open an eye to see Conrad looming above you. He looks miserable, eyes as red as his nose. He gives you a smile, almost pathetic in his obvious exhaustion.

“Hello,” You say with a grin, you can’t seem to hold yourself back from smiling whenever he’s around.

“Hello, Darling.” He slurred in response, his voice raspy. His eyes hold yours for a moment, and you feel as if he’s looking at you with an adoration that should be reserved for a higher power.

You make a move to sit up, but he shakes his head. When you lie back down, he quickly makes his way to lie beside and almost on top of you, shaping his body to the contour of yours and burying his face into the juncture of your shoulder and neck. You bring your arms up and around him, stroking lightly on his back which he melts into instantly. He smells of soap and the barest hints of pine.

“Conrad,” you murmur into his hair, feeling his grip tighten around your middle. “Are you feeling alright?”

He shakes his head lightly, pressing his face further into your neck. “No.” His voice comes out muffled, perhaps from congestion, perhaps his face buried in your skin, or maybe even a combination of both.

“Allergies?” You guess with ease.

He nods this time, a sniffle causing you to roll him over and hand him a handkerchief that had been resting on the small table adjacent to the couch. He looks perturbed to have been moved, but his facial expression melts into one of gratitude when your proffered tissue. 

Conrad looks guilty to lean back into you having just blown his nose, but you could care less, he is beautiful and he is yours. He cuddles back into you easily.

You hold back a laugh at the thought someone so perfect in every capacity could be brought down, even for a moment, by mere pollen. “How long does it usually last?”

“Too long … two to three weeks maybe?”

“Maybe?” You tease.

Conrad groans, “It hurts too much to think.”

His training session with Shola flashes through your mind. “Will you continue your sparring?”

“Maybe inside, if Father is willing to take that risk to the furniture.” Conrad’s thoughtful tone is severely impeded by the sound of his scratchy throat. Maybe in a bit you can convince him to get up for a tea break. “But I was hoping that perhaps you would like some company.”

His trepid tone makes you feel as if your heart is swelling in your chest. “I’d love that,” You breathe out, hoping that your arms around his body and kisses you start to lay on his head express the love and admiration for him that you don’t have the words to express.

“Thank you,” he breathes, and you pull him in for a kiss, dismissing his runny nose and other allergy symptoms at the sound of his earnestly. A little pollen means nothing in the face of your love.

#conrad oxford #conrad oxford x reader #the king’s man

[thoughtprovider]

Film Review: The King’s Man (2021)

To Matthew Vaughn’s credit, one could get into a reasonable debate as to what the best film in his arsenal is, and not because it’s littered with absolute duds. It’s because he and chief collaborator Jane Goldman have struck gold more than once with their mixture of professionally-structured scripts with enjoyably by-the-book character development surrounded by, often, gonzo action bordering on slapstick. At its broadest, this style can play as juvenile and “not for” the serious movie-goer; at its most refined, it can come close to euphoric action-movie abandon.

His debut, Layer Cake, was nominated for a directing BAFTA, portending the next Guy Ritchie while the original Guy Ritchie was still very much still making “Guy Ritchie films” and not yet stylish, director-for-hire gigs. Vaughn’s debut starred the millenials’ future James Bond and made an instant fan out of most who were paying attention, which was not everyone. More were invited to his tent with Kick-Ass, the Aaron Taylor-Johnson fandom-making adaptation of the Mark Millar comic. But we’d argue Vaughn and Goldman struck gold most unilaterally with 2011’s X-Men: First Class, the crowd-pleasing origin story that gave a new generation its Charles Xavier and Magneto, giving the late-nineties-born franchise a very British makeover with well- cast actors committing fully to the superhero bit. By this point, Kevin Feige (a former X-Men producer himself) had already kicked off his masterclass in comic-book adaptations known as the MCU, and Vaughn/Goldman (doing a page-one rewrite of a script already in pre-production, and on an accelerated schedule) bring that refinement to Fox’s own superhero offering, for the

first time, some say, ever, others say since X2. Some of that is even present in the film’s sequel, which they effectively prepped for Bryan Singer, who did not let them down.

That home-run brought with it respect in the nerd space, some trust at 20th Century Studios, and it is with this reputation that the pair began work on what would be the only directorial playground we would see from Vaughn for years: the Kingsmen franchise. Part James Bond (popping up, as he does, as an influence in the work of many an English director) part Kick-Ass, Kingsman: the Secret Service and its first sequel made stars of many of its cast, and continued the trend of Goldman being too good to let Vaughn’s (and Millar’s, whose work was again being adapted) wildcard ambitions ever become too unmoored, its characters never too unrecognizably-motivated. To mixed results! But results enough to get a third outing greenlit, and released theatrically in the uncertain times that are life on Earth in the transition from 2021 to 2022, with Covid-19 still very much a thing. Released alongside a globe- conquering, Feige-produced, Sony superhero flick, the resurgence of a long-dormant, formerly- globe-conquering franchise, and singing cartoon characters. Which is to say, heaps of competition, both existential and filmic.

The King’s Man, that third film with all this competition sees Vaughn returning without his ace up his sleeve, as Goldman does not return with him. Maybe she was busy betting on the next wave of prestige fantasy at HBO. Whatever the case, much to this writer’s trepidation, the writing credits to this film features not her name, but that of Karl Gajdusek, who is best known for being the other guy whose name appears in the King’s Man writing credits.

The movie stars Ralph Fiennes as Duke Orlando of Oxford, a well-connected former man of war, who, after a tragedy, gets out of that business. Unfortunately for him, the world itself

has war up its sleeve, with this story taking place on the cusp of and during World War I, with our villains being a shadowy organization pulling strings and generally being up to no good. Our true hero, and apparent franchise torch-bearer, though, is Orlando’s son, Conrad, played by Harris Dickinson, perhaps best known for playing Prince Phillip in Maleficent: Mistress of Evil for Disney, and John Paul Getty III in the fantastic and underrated Simon Beaufoy/Danny Boyle FX series Trust. Dickinson does not get many notes to play here, but he plays them convincingly and is earnest. Fiennes as predictably great. Rhys Ifans (as Russia’s infamous Rasputin) more than earns his prime placement in the film’s posters and trailers. Somebody give that guy a raise.

The historical-fiction bits of this movie work remarkably well at adding a sense of urgency and peril…if you’re familiar with this history already, but may feel stock or inert to someone who doesn’t know their Franz Ferdinands from their Franz Josephs, or their Lenins from their Lennons. How much narrative heavy-lifting world history plays may have something to do with how split audiences seem to be in general regarding this entry in the franchise.

To this reviewers eyes, though, this is the best Kingsman movie since the first. The action is well- choreographed and coherent (more so, I’m loath to admit, than the recent Matrix film, Lana forgive me), with a trench warfare sequence being actually gripping and fun and interesting. The anti-war drum is beat by the film, while also showing respect to those who’ve served in conflict, and their families. Rhys Ifans's contributions cannot be under-mentioned, so here they are, mentioned again.

It’s unfortunate this film will likely get lost in the shuffle of our times and the absolutely stacked marketplace, because this is a genuinely fun movie with things to say about its own story (there is something inherently interesting about looking back to another generation’s global existential crisis, after all), with great costuming, and great locations. There’s maybe one too many one-note characters, and the shadowy villains have an air of Dr. Evil’s henchmen (only less memorable) but every actor brings it, as does their director. It’s a winner that need not exist, really, but a winner nonetheless, so I’ll take it.

[rosalyn51]

The King’s Man @ NYCC 2019

Excerpt from Deadline October 3, 2019

The packed Javits Center Main Theater crowd was treated to fascinating dish about on-set details and bloody tribulations during the making of The King’s Man. The third film’s challenge is to track back in time and shows how the extraordinary group got its start — the assignment is similar to the one Vaughn aced back in 2011 with the release of X-Men: First Class, considered by many to be the best of all X-Movies.

“We’re never gonna win an Oscar, and I never want to watch any of these [recent Best Picture Oscar winners] again but when I was a kid, movies like Lawrence of Arabia, and Dr. Zhivago, you want to watch them again,” Vaughn said, calling King’s Man “a love letter to the movies I loved growing up.”

Toward that end, Vaughn said used the same lens that filmed Lawrence, David Lean’s 1962 classic. Also nodding to the Lean era, Vaughn limited the number of pixel props and drop-in digital fakery.  “We tried to do everything in camera,” Vaughn said of the clips, which included exhilarating World War II action and the pristine trappings of the tailor shop. “I love CG but there’s a little too much of it at the moment.”

One thing that wasn’t CG: the physical action, which led to bruises.

“This was a very painful film to make,” said a smiling Djimon Hounsou, who plays a treasured war comrade of Fiennes’ Duke of Oxford. “It was quite a challenge and I was hurt from the first week on. Harris was hurt too,” he added, citing Harris Dickinson, who plays the Duke’s son and protégé Conrad (essentially, the kind of role that Taron Egerton played in the first two films). Confirmed Vaughn of Dickinson, who smiled from his place on the panel, “There was one scene where Harris was cut, and he said, ‘Keep filming. Use the blood.’”

It was Fiennes, the Oscar-nominated actor and a core alumnus of the Harry Potter ensemble, who got the loudest greeting from the crowd. He said he was drawn to the project by the first Kingsmen films. “I very much respected the clever balance of relationship and action,” he said, “and the unusual and original spin on the British spy theme.”

In the third film, a classic collection of rogues attempts to wipe out millions, which leads the Duke and his son to clash over method. That changes when Duke takes him to that infamous tailor shop.

“Conrad is realizing what it means to be a man at a time when you’re being defined by your bravery and ability to fight for a cause,” Dickinson said. “It’s an interesting dynamic.”

Clips showed a hint of Matthew Goode (Downton Abbey and The Crown) who co-stars as Tristan. Tom Hollander pulls Peter Sellers-type duty, playing the roles of George V, Wilhelm II and Nicholas II; Stanley Tucci is along as Merlin (Mark Strong in the other films).

🗣️⚔️💥💥

The King's Man official trailer 2 | In theaters 2/14/2020

#matthew goode #ralph fiennes #the king's man #kingsman prequel #kingsman

[randomingoftherandomness]

[Fic] Wish You Were Here - Conrad x M; Rated G

A/N: For @stebeee

Tags: Crossover, AU!Kingsman, AU!James Bond, Not related, Established Relationship

[Read on AO3]

DO NOT REPOST

--

The sun-warmed floorboards feel heavenly under his bare feet and Conrad cannot help the happy smile that stretches his lips when he leans on the railing and looks out to the beach. Over the multicoloured blobs in the sea, the parasailers glide serenely against the cotton white clouds. Salt tinged wind caresses his bare skin, and he tilts his face heavenward. There could be no denying that they were in paradise now.

Eeking out a quick getaway had not been his idea; surprisingly enough, it was Mallory's who had announced the moment their private plane taxied off the runway in Sydney, that he had secured them a pocket of three days grace before they were needed back in London for whatever their respective agencies had in store for them.

"No calls, no interruption, no emergencies, nothing," Mallory had smiled, pulling him into his lap, kissing him slowly, hands running up his sides. "Between the lot of them, the world can wait."

Conrad runs his thumb over his lips, heart fluttering with happiness at the memory of what they got up to in the sleeping quarters on the plane. For all that Eggsy had teased him about dating Mallory, clearly not seeing himself with Galahad, the man had a romantic streak a mile wide. And looking over the vista from their private bungalow, he can't help but feel like he is the luckiest duck to be the object of Mallory's affections.

"What do you think?"

Conrad turns, breath catching in his throat which he quickly smoothes into a cough. He deftly hides his smile behind his hand. Mallory waggles his eyebrows, stepping out onto the balcony next to him, making a turn to show off the absolutely hideous Hawaiian patterned shirt he has on and the, for lack of better descriptives, neon green Speedos. Gone was his prim and proper, utterly dressed to the bespoke nines lover, and here was...

"Yes?" Mallory grins, hands on his hips, posing. "Good?"

"If I let you out into public like this, I'll never forgive myself," Conrad says eventually, the laughter tumbling out of him. He drags Mallory back into the privacy of their room, shutting the sliding door behind them. His skin pebbles under the sudden cool air from the air-conditioning unit, but it doesn't distract him from pulling Mallory with him when he back walks and falls onto their bed. "No one gets to see you like this," He murmurs, running a hand up his chest, fingers carding through the hairs.

"Mm, possessive," Mallory hums, clear eyes bright with mischief. "I think I like this about you."

"You like everything about me," Conrad chuckles, biting his bottom lip. Mallory leans down, brushing their mouths together, teasing the barest of a kiss.

"That's very true," He breathes. With a heavy, deliberate drag of his hand up Conrad's sun-heated skin, he presses down under his ribs. "Want to know what I love best about you?"

He pulls away, shrugging off the dreadful Hawaiian abomination. Conrad pushes his hair out of his eyes as he props himself up on his elbows to watch his lover strip. With happy peals of laughter, he follows suit in getting naked. It's time for their vacation to begin.

#kingsman #the king's man #coxford #Conrad X Duke of Oxford #conrad x m #duke of oxford x conrad #james bond #crossover #fanfiction #gab writes stuff #stebeee

[randomingoftherandomness]

Coxford Fics

I’ve written a few, and since I don’t plan on crossposting every single one of them to Tumblr, I’m gonna keep updating this list with every single one I add after this initial post, so check the notes and reblogs. 

Read the tags before reading.

You are the silence in between what I thought and what I said [Rated G] Tags: Unresolved Tension, AU-Not Related, Pre-Relationship - AO3 // Tumblr

and all this longing [Rated G] Tags: AU-Not Related, Secret Relationship - AO3 // Tumblr

Tesco Liminal [Rated G] Tags: Crossover with James Bond, AU, Established Relationship - AO3 // Tumblr

Wish You Were Here [Rated G] Tags: Crossover with James Bond, AU, Established Relationship, Fluff - AO3 // Tumblr 

in the arms of an angel [Rated E] Tags: Incest, Explicit Sex, Mpreg - AO3 (**archive locked for registered users only)

Why do we love if we’re so mistaken? [Rated G] Tags: AU-Not Related, Established Relationship, Pining - AO3

O most beloved; We share one soul [Rated T] Tags: Incest, Angst, AU-Pacific Rim Fusion, background Hartwin - AO3

#the king's man #kingsman #coxford #conrad x duke of oxford #duke of oxford x conrad #gab writes stuff

[randomingoftherandomness]

[Fic] You are the silence in between what I thought and what I said -  Conrad x Duke of Oxford; Rated G

A/N: We only got a glimpse of them in the teaser trailer, but here I am, ready to jump feet first back into the Kingsman fandom for them :> If you guys have any prompts for this pairing just drop it in my ask box.

Tagging @colourr-ing @genderqueernerd @stebeee

[Originally posted on AO3]

NOTICE: REBLOG. DO NOT REPOST.

The Duke, perhaps having an inkling of the thoughts of escape in his head, was waiting outside on the plush seating outside the door of the fitting room with a placid smile and a twinkle in his icy eyes as if saying 'Aha! Caught you!'. Conrad's lips twist in displeasure but he straightens his spine and boldly steps forward into the shop floor. They're alone; the lone tailor who had been at the cloth long since abandoning them for the private spaces in the backrooms.

His cane raps on the floor when he pushes himself to his feet. Conrad barely catches the instinctual need to step backwards that had been beaten into him by the hands of mothers and aunt, and the rough shakings of fathers and uncles who lived lives on the land of the gentry. He feels his cheeks warm, turning his face away in illogical embarrassment. It shouldn't matter so much in this time of war, but it does, and Conrad is still desperately aware of the distance that divides the two of them in so many ways than just social standing, even if he thinks the Duke is--

Well. There has never been any point delving into those unspoken desires he has never made real, even if he has woken up caught in the tail ends of a dream with far too much passion and illicit kisses with one who tasted more like tobacco and sweat, than perfume and candied fruit.

"Could do with a bit of taking in around the waist," The Duke's careful voice accompanies the tap-tapping of his cane on the floorboards. "You will need to be able to move freely. What you are about to embark on will require much of you."

With a gentle touch of his cane to the side of his new leather shoes, Conrad turns his attention back to the Duke. "What do you think, Conrad?"

"I think look like a right tool," Conrad says in a rush, before stuttering out a quick, "Your Grace."

The corners of thin lips lift in a curl of amusement. Sharp blue eyes regard him with clear warmth, and it puts him immediately at ease. His distracted thoughts of pleasure at being the recipient of that smile is the only reason why he does not realise it until the Duke has a hand over the back of his own, standing close enough to him that he is giddy with the scent of his cologne and the cool, crisp way his presence feels next to him.

"Good," He says, and Conrad has to stifle the way the curl of his tongue around those syllables has his knees knocking and buckling.

"Good," He manages a little breathlessly, and if his eyes linger in hopeful daydreams on the way the Duke's flicker to his lips, no one has to know but he.

#kingsman #the king's man #the kings man #kingsmanfic #conrad #duke of oxford #Conrad X Duke of Oxford #gab writes stuff #coxford #duke of oxford x conrad

[randomingoftherandomness]

🚢

I’ve written all of the three fics (with two more in the pipeline) in the Conrad x Duke of Oxford tag on AO3 and I reckon this means I get to name the ship. I hereby christen this the HMS Coxford and you can’t stop me :>

[Edit 26/7/19: Have just been informed that Matthew Vaughn did a trailer breakdown for Empire magazine and he confirms that Conrad and the Duke are actually Father and Son. Have now added the 'Not Related' tag on the fics I have up on AO3 because, yeah. I’m not gonna stop shipping this. Blacklist the tag ‘Coxford’ if you wanna avoid any content]

#the king's man #kingsman #Conrad X Duke of Oxford #duke of oxford x conrad #coxford #gab writes stuff #fanfiction #fanfic

[randomingoftherandomness]

[Fic] and all this longing - Conrad x Duke of Oxford; Rated G

A/N: Here, have another x @stebeee @genderqueernerd @colourr-ing 

[Read on AO3]

DO NOT REPOST.

--

He splays his hand over his eyes. Blocking out the dappling of summer sunlight filtering through the shadows of the trees, though it does nothing for the weight of the sunlight on his naked torso. Carefully, Conrad kicks out his legs where they dangle over the edge of the wooden planks, skimming his toes over the water's surface.

It is a simultaneously horrible and wonderous existence to be idle in the July swelter like this; to allow himself stillness in the heavy afternoon air.  

The shifting boards creak in response to a foreign weight being pressed on them. He stills. Waiting patiently for the approach of the other man, keeping his body in posed languid ease.

"How long are you going to lie there?"

"For as long as I need to," Conrad replies easily, blinking slowly as he tilts his head to eye the sight of the Duke of Oxford watching him with a careful gaze. "Your Grace," He smiles, curling the syllables of his address around his tongue like a kitchen cat savouring the finest of creams.

To anyone who may stumble on them like this, there is no crime being committed between them; no untoward advances from the man in the finest summer linen, no inappropriate touches, nothing that could signal the advent of sin. Not when all evidence of that belongs to the quiet of the Duke's library at midnight, to the road between the home and a London tailor's.

The Duke makes no move to close the distance between them. Conrad looks away. In turn, he makes no effort to hide the way his lips curl into sullenness. Rolling onto his feet, he goes to a stand, keeping his arms at his side, eyes guarded.

It is ridiculous that he should feel slighted like this when he knows the times they are living in. He can as much claim ownership of the man's heart, as the crashing sea waves can claim the sandy shores.

"Is there anything you need, sir?" He says with as much practised decorum as he can muster with a hurting heart.

"I had wondered what you were up to," The Duke says. Blue eyes steely, he doesn't break the hold of their gaze when he steps forth in measured tenderness. "Perhaps I should have not come looking after all?"

Conrad licks his lips, pressing them together in consideration. Taking a half step back towards the edge of the dock. "Would it have mattered in the end? Not knowing what I was up to?"

The Duke shakes his head. "No, it would not." His eyes stay Conrad's feet from fleeing. "It never mattered at all, because I know that you will come back to me when you tire of your wanderings."

A warm hand reaches for his arm, and he allows it. He sucks in a sharp inhale of breath over the disbelieving stutter of his heart. Conrad fights back the habitual urge to look around them, to check for prying eyes and malicious intent. The touch on his arm travels upwards, settling heavy on the jut of his shoulder.

The Duke steps closer still. Conrad looks up, lips slightly parted. "Are you sure?" He whispers. Touching him featherlight at the elbow, he squeezes, saying with the press of skin to skin, You can walk away from me, I don't mind, I understand.

He arches in, meeting him halfway, lips brushing against lips when he hears, "Yes, Conrad. More than anything." Upon tasting the truth in the slow caress of a tongue to his, he surrenders himself to being held in his lover's arms.

#kingsman #the king's man #Conrad X Duke of Oxford #kingsmanfic #gab writes stuff #coxford #duke of oxford x conrad

[eykismyfav]

Safe Haven

Requested: Nope

Summary: When The Duke of Oxford is woken up in the middle of the night by cries for help and frantic knocking on his door he knows something is very wrong.

Genre: Angst but really fluffy towards the end some serious hurt comfort happening here.

Warnings: Swearing, murder, stalking, violence, Non Graphic descriptions of injuries

Pairing: Orlando Oxford x Fem!reader (Established relationship kind of they are very close to each other”

Characters: Orlando Oxford, Polly, Shola, Conrad

Authors note: That summary sucks I’m sorry. The reader is female I am sorry I do usually write the reader as gender neutral but this is really just self indulgent. Also this takes place during the twelve year gap at the beginning of the movie. reader is 21 and Orlando is 30 I know it doesn’t line up perfectly but it’s the ages I am writing them as. Also Orlando doesn’t have a leg injury. Also I loved writing for Orlando so please if you want to see more one shots about him send me request to write. Also I love comments and being able to interact with you guys.

Word Count: 1300

The King’s Man Masterlist

Being woken up in your family home by gunshots and blood curdling screams was ironically not something you were used to and it caused your blood to run cold in your veins. You did your best to remain perfectly silent thinking maybe whoever was in your home wouldn’t approach if they did not hear you. Slowly and cautiously you approached the door to your room, cracked it open to see if the coast was clear. You knew a window would likely be a safer bet but your room was on the second story so it truly was not an option. 

Upon opening the door it took every ounce of self control to not start crying or to slam the door shut. The hallway was covered in blood and the bodies of the staff that had essentially raised you were scattered along the hall. However there was no assalent to be found so you made the choice to run for it. Your neighbor the Duke of Oxford would be able to help you just had to get there. As you ran down the hall you could see into the bedrooms of your family all of which seem to be murdered in cold blood. You didn’t have the time to grieve though you had to get out of the house and fast. 

As you rushed to get out of the house you ran into one of what you assumed to be about 4 or 5 men currently in the house. You turn quickly on your heels knowing damn well you didn’t stand a chance against the man with obvious military training, so using the maze of servant passages you knew by heart to your advantage you manage to get out of the house unharmed.

That is how you found yourself in your current predicament.  Running barefoot through the woods in your sleeping gown acquiring scratches on your arms and legs from the twigs that surround you being chased by an armed man in the middle of the night. To say this was not how you expected your night to be going would be a drastic understatement. You knew that you were running on adrenaline and that it wasn’t going to last very much longer, luckily you didn’t need it to as you could see your end goal the Oxford mansion.  You just had to get there and you would be safe. Shola the butler was well trained as was Orlando the head of house. 

As you enter the clearing in front of the house your foot catches on a rock causing you to stumble to the ground allowing the men following you to catch up to you. 

“No...No please let me go...” You struggle out as you try and escape the grasp of the man. “HELP. PLEASE. I NEED....” Your pleas for help are quickly cut off by a hand covering your mouth. You bite the man’s hand and kick his knee, managing to crawl away before he can recover. You run - well at this point you're sure it looks more like a limp due to the pain shooting up your leg from your injured ankle - towards the door. As you continue to stagger your way to the mansion before you, you do not stop screaming for help. Finally you reach the door knocking on it frantically in hopes of waking someone up. From inside you notice a light begin to approach the door. “Yes...yes please I need help!” You shout almost laughing with joy. Safety was so close.

“I don’t think so...” A voice calls from behind you grabbing around your waist causing you to let out a horrified scream. You thrash around trying frivolously to escape his grip you were out of energy the adrenaline had worn out you accepted your fate as you go semi limp in the man's arms and can only whimper in pain.

“Put her down.” You hear the familiar voice of Shola call from the door holding what looked like a machete. The man holding you dropped you to the ground getting in a fighting position. As you hit the ground your head makes hard contact with the fountain causing your vision to go black as you slip into unconsciousness. 

When you wake up you can’t help but whimper at the light coming through the curtain. 

“Shhh...Shhh I know I’m sorry my dear.” The soothing low voice of whoever was beside you whispers as the person stands up and closes the curtain completely before returning to your side. Turning your head you see the Duke of Oxford pull a cloth from a basin of water and raise it to your forehead. That is when  you realize where you are and that the events from last night had to be real and not simply some disturbing dream. Tears quickly sprung to your eyes as I reached for the man's hand. He pauses what he was doing and looks at you, seeming to understand your unasked question, “I’m sorry you were the only one to get out.” Orlando all but whispers but you heard him in the deafening silence of the room.

“No...No...Orlando this isn’t funny.” You gasp out between sobs pushing yourself into a seated position burying your face into your knees making yourself into a ball in the hopes of becoming as small as possible. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound in the room being your pained sobs. You had lost everyone that you loved, your parents, your siblings, and the staff that took care of you for the past 21 years, everyone gone overnight. 

You felt the bed dip slightly as Orlando moved to sit beside you on the bed pulling you lightly into his chest.

“I’m so sorry my dear I wish there was something I could do or say to show you that it will be okay but I know that I can’t.” He mumbles into your temple pressing a gentle kiss there in hopes of calming you down even just a little.

“It’s not fair Orlando. What am I supposed to do now I’m all alone.” You mumble as you bury your face in his chest. Orlando carefully rakes his fingers through your hair. 

“You are not alone, you have Conrad, Shola, Polly and I. You can stay here with us for as long as you need. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you I promise.” He says it in such a way that you felt you had no choice but to trust him on this matter. All you could do was nod in response. 

True to his word Orlando let you stay for as long as you needed. So here you stood beside Orlando watching as Conrad blew out his candles for his tenth birthday a little over three years after that fateful night. 

“What did you wish for my darling?” You asked Conrad as you pressed a light kiss to his hair.

“I can’t tell you or it won’t come true!” He says looking up at you with his big doe eyes shocked you would even ask such a ridiculous question. 

“Right of course how silly of me to ask!” you exclaim as you stand back up feeling Orlando’s chest shake with laughter as he watches the interaction. He kisses your cheek lightly and takes your hand giving it a light squeeze. His finger lightly toying with your wedding band. The feeling of wishing to freeze time in this moment where everyone was safe and happy was at the forefront of your mind. You suppose that you wanted to wait to freeze the moment till you tell them that you were adding one more member to the family in just a few months. 

Taglist - @anmactireaonair

#orlando oxford x reader #the duke of oxford x reader #orlando oxford fanfiction #orlando oxford #conrad oxford #Polly The King's Man #Shola #the king's man #the king's man one shot

[randomingoftherandomness]

Anyone interested in a Conrad X Duke of Oxford fic? Coz I’m getting on this early :>

#the king's man #kingsman #duke of oxford #conrad #ralph fiennes #harris dickson #gab writes stuff #Conrad X Duke of Oxford #I'll be tagging it as such until we can rustle up a ship name