#charles brandon fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ilyrafe · 2 years

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𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒚 ✧ 𝒄𝒉 𝑽𝑰𝑰 (reposted)

pairing: charles brandon x duchess!reader

warnings: angst, abusive behavior

word count: 2,7k

taglist: @runawayolives @kmuir1 @marytudorbrandon @lharrietg @shittingdicknipple @alexa-fangirl-forever @mis-lil-red @amberangel112 @ohmygoodie @itmejado @radaofrivia @scarlets-widow @ragamuffin285 @thereisa8ella @titty-teetee @dropletsofkaisoo @kebabgirl67

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a/n: hi hello i am a dumbass while deleting a few posts i accidentally deleted the original 7th chapter, but since i still had a google doc with the original story here i am reposting it !

the dry, golden leaves fall from the trees, decorating london’s streets and roads in the first days of september. the wind is cooler, but it is not able to prevent children from continuing to play in the streets of the villages where they live. the days are getting shorter, however, which may be good for some, but less so for others.

charles has been restless since the kiss. it feels like stepping on eggshells, and he hates it, but he knows he can’t pressure the duchess into anything. he still doesn’t know how to read her, so he can’t really tell where she is at, where she stands in relation to him. the duke can’t deny that he finds y/n a bit moody, but compared to king henry, charles knows how to handle her better than his friend and sovereign. there is still a barrier between them, but little by little, the bricks are being removed.

he’s hopeful, though. he’s putting a lot of effort into their relationship - whatever that may be. would he like to be in a romantic relationship with the duchess and live his married life properly? absolutely, but as he gets to know her better, he wouldn’t be upset if they end up being friends. either way, all he wants is to have her in his life.

the duchess remains in conflict with herself. as she documents her journey in her diary, she finds herself wondering if it’s worth putting charles through this, because she knows it’s unfair and that it’s clear he has feelings for her. it’s conflicting and distressing, because she knows she’s giving in little by little. she can’t say she still loves james, but also can’t say she doesn’t, as the memories are still fresh in her mind, and it was those memories that kept her sane during these months of marriage. her head is a mess, and she just wants to be able to breathe in peace, knowing that james will be bitter.

getting close to charles, even out of petulant interest, has been interesting. now they have all three meals together, they go out riding either early in the mornings or after dinner quite frequently, and she feels genuinely comfortable around him. admitting you’re in the wrong is never easy, and despite having apologized to him for being so harsh, she still feels a little guilty and indebted to him. the problem now is that she feels in doubt about her revenge, because she has involved a person who doesn’t deserve to be in the middle of something he has nothing to do with and she knows he’s harboring real feelings for her.

her eyesight is blurry and her eyes are heavy. the duchess stretches, closes her diary and blows out the candle on the table, that gently lightens the spot. the moonlight remains illuminating the room, and as she lies down on her bed, she closes her eyes, praying for strength to go on with the mess she herself created.

(...)

the day dawns just slightly cloudy, the sun decides to appear, although quite shyly..

in his bed, the duke takes a little while longer to get up. today is his birthday, and despite the day being his, it is perhaps the busiest day of the year, as the royal court, his subjects and his friends and family want his attention to congratulate him for another year of life. unlike other years, charles has decided not to celebrate with a party, as a war is imminent and he doesn’t want any more distractions.

after a long delay, charles is finally ready for the busy day ahead. does she know it’s my birthday? he laughs at himself as he finds himself thinking about her again.

when he arrives at the salon for breakfast, he finds the duchess promptly seated, waiting for him. with each passing day she gets more beautiful, and he doesn't know how that's possible. it’s as if she had an angelic aura around her that hypnotizes him. he’s completely head over heels.

“oh, good morning!” she smiles brightly.

“good morning, dear wife. i apologize for taking so long.”

“it’s no trouble.” she shrugs. “um… i hear it’s your birthday today.”

he chuckles as he pours honey into his fruit salad.

“yes, it is.”

“while i find it quite insulting that you didn’t tell me and i found out this morning, i wish you the best.” she says with a shy smile on her beautiful lips, the ones he prays he gets to kiss them again.

“thank you.”

“i assume a party will be held here…?”

“oh, no. not this year.” he explains. “i believe i’m too old for birthday parties,” he says humorously, and she chuckles. “it’s a waste of money and even if i were to host a party, certain people would have to come and we do not want that.”

“oh,” y/n recoils in shame. “i am utterly embarrassed about it.”

“no, please, don’t. my concern is about you, not me. i would never do anything to harm you.” he’s quick to assure her. he places his hand on hers and gives it a light squeeze. “um, i would like to celebrate my birthday, though.” he grins.

a pleasant smile appears in her face, and it’s enough to make his heart skip a beat. “how?”

“tonight, we’ll have dinner.”

“we have dinner every evening.” she chuckles to disguise her confusion.

“i know, but we’ll have a cake, and there’s no one else i’d rather celebrate today with.”

oh.

y/n is taken by surprise by his words. she had no idea her plan would work so quickly.

“alright. i’ll see you tonight, then.”

(...)

his anxiety for dinner makes him feel that time is deliberately passing slowly. as he expected, his day is full of commitments. lots of documents to sign, he has to send his men for training for the imminent war against france, and has to make time to receive gifts and messages from his friends.

on his desk, there is a small print of him with the duchess on their wedding day. charles is standing before the duchess who is sitting on a chair. both have serious expressions on their faces, and even though it’s a painting, he can see his wife’s sad semblant. she was stunning that day, though. her dress was beautiful. although he is glad they are getting along today, he would love for their wedding day to be a happy one. he acknowledges that he wasn’t much satisfied either, and he did expect a loveless marriage, but didn’t anticipate how turbulent the first months would be.

a knock on the door to his office takes him out of his thoughts.

“your grace, your majesty is here.” one guard announces and henry steps into charles’ office.

“my dear friend! i came here to congratulate you on another year of life!” the king exclaims.

“thank you, your majesty.”

“oh, stop that.” henry waves it off, making charles laugh. “what are your plans for today?”

“well, as you can imagine, i have a lot to do.”

“are you not celebrating your birthday?” the king inquiries.

“not this year.” charles sighs as he makes his way to his chair, behind his desk. “we need resources for the war, i don’t think it’s smart to waste it in a party that next year i’ll be celebrating anyways.”

“you speak as if your best friend isn’t the king of england, your grace.”

charles scoffs, quite amused by henry’s way of thinking. the king despises limits; the more, the better. there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to get what he wants. the war was provoked by him, and charles, being the army leader, has to take part in something he loathes, all because he couldn’t bear to lose henry’s love and admiration. not having any siblings alive, henry is the brother he never had.

“we’ll celebrate properly when we come victorious from this war.” charles promises.

“oh, i have no doubt our army is in good hands.” henry smiles. “just so you know, annika has left to sweden, but her husband james is staying. he is already in training and i’ve been told he is excellent. i’m glad he is on our side.”

“um… i’ll keep an eye on him. he’s never been to war before, we don’t want him to die on the field.” charles lies. “if he shows us a good performance, i’ll award him with something.”

“oh, you’re generous, my friend.”

after much research, there’s no way he could keep james out of the war. there is nothing he could say, the king seems to like him a lot. a parasite.

(...)

after a busy and chaotic day, charles finally gets ready for dinner with his wife. he chooses his best clothes and when he goes down to the dining room, he doesn’t find her there. in fact, the table isn’t even set.

“where is y/n?” he asks.

“she is in the garden awaiting for your grace.” a servant says, and her smile tells her that something good is ahead.

charles makes his way to the garden and finds y/n sitting on a smaller table. she looks beautiful as always, her soft blue dress is gorgeous, and her jewels shine when moonlight hits them, giving her a special aura. she’s properly dressed for a party, even though it’s just a simple dinner, but he loves it. the moon is shining bright, and although it is a bit cold, the weather is overall lovely. it’s all perfect.

“i thought you’d forgotten about this.” she laughs.

“i wouldn’t dare.”

they both sit across from each other and the servants begin to serve them. charles is enamored, and he knows he looks stupid.

“i am sorry you weren’t able to have an appropriate birthday celebration,” she laments. “i took the liberty of making a present for you, i hope it is to your liking.”

“what is it?”

charles feels like a boy again, his curiosity always taking over his mind. a servant returns to the table with a small cake in hand. he places it in the center of the table and the duke’s mouth waters. he loves desserts, especially cakes.

“i’ve heard you have a sweet tooth, and that you particularly adore chocolate nut cake, so i decided to bake you one. i hope you enjoy it.”

the duke breaks the little chocolate nut cake and the taste is divine. of all the chocolate nut cakes he’s ever eaten, this one is the best. the best of the best. she can’t help but let out a laugh when she sees the duke sighing and letting out a brief moan of pleasure as he delights himself with the dessert.

after enjoying the cake, both go for a walk through the immense countryside, accompanied by the moon and the glow of the stars. it is increasingly difficult for charles to keep his feelings to himself, and he senses that she may be feeling the same. the change in her behavior is sudden, but it’s a good change. she wouldn’t bake him his favorite cake if she didn’t like him in the slightest… would she?

“i must say, this was the best birthday i’ve had in years. a grand party couldn’t make me as happy.” he says with a grin.

“i am glad to hear that.”

he stops in the middle of the path and holds her hands.

“and i must admit that i didn’t expect to fall in love with you so quickly.”

charles’ heart is in his mouth, because he doesn’t want to be rejected by her, but to his surprise, the duchess smiles. she looks a little shy, but he would dare say she seems happy to hear his confession.

y/n is surprised, as she didn’t think he would admit his feelings so soon. her plan is working out too quickly, which can be worrying.

with the recognition that her goal is getting closer to being achieved, y/n approaches and presses her lips against his. charles wastes no time and matches her advance. her lips taste like wine, which makes him just a tad drunk. both of her hands are pressed against his chest, and even with so many layers of clothing, she can feel his heart pounding. knowing she has a special power over a man like him is tempting, she can’t abuse it.

continuing with the “girl repentant of her mistakes” guise can be tricky, but she got to the crucial part of her plan, and if she’s sincere, it wasn’t exactly difficult, it was just… morally devious.

somehow, y/n has internalized that there is nothing more she can lose. her anguish is so deep that she fails to recognize herself. her sadness and disappointment are so strong that they have left her numb, making her not feel the impact of her actions. although she is fully aware that her plan is petty and childish, it’s the only thing that keeps her alive, and it’s sad that her motivation for living is a deep hatred of both james and herself.

“please, give me a chance. i can make you happy.” he asks in a whisper as he leans his forehead against hers, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers, making her smile again.

for a brief moment she lets herself believe charles’ words. as true as they are, she knows they were only said because of her false intent. it hurts because she had heard those words before, and only suffering followed.

“yes.”

(...)

in her quarters, y/n reflects on the night she had. her head is beyond tormented.

already in her sleeping clothes, she goes to her bed, but a noise at the window disturbs her. as she opens the curtains, she finds james struggling to keep himself on the parapet outside. she needs to stifle a scream that almost escapes her lips. her body shudders, size is the scare she takes.

she opens the window and lets him in, seeing no other option. the man drains and is panting.

“what are you doing here? how did you get in here?” she whispers in desperation.

“i needed to see you, my love.” he gasps. “i missed you terribly.”

he tries to kiss her, but she steps back.

“i am not your love anymore.” she scores. “i thought i was clear enough when i said i do not want to see you ever again.”

“you know you love me, y/n.” james says with conviction, one that is appalling. “i will duel him if necessary to have you back.”

“you have lost your mind.” she scoffs.

james makes himself comfortable on a chair and takes in her room. her room alone is much bigger than the house he planned on acquiring.

“why did you marry a swedish duchess?” she asks.

“i needed to get to you.” he says. “i met annika and as soon as i learned that she was a royal, i made her fall in love with me. it was the only way i could get to you, and for you, i’ll do anything.”

his tone is frightening, only because he’s saying what she has been doing. realizing she’s not much different than him breaks her heart in tiny little pieces.

“does she know about us?”

“no, absolutely not.” he urges. “of course, she found it quite strange when you stormed out of the queen’s birthday party, but it was no trouble, i handled her.”

james’ eyes are troubled, and she’s never seen him like that. for the first time she’s scared of him, and she isn’t so sure if she is that safe around him.

“you are insane.” she says, more to herself than to him. “james, i mean it. we are no longer together. i don’t love you anymore.”

“you’re mistaken, my love.” james insists with a terrifying smile, as he approaches her figure. he holds her in his arms, but her body is frozen in fear. “i promise you. we will be together in the end, y/n. whether you like it or not, we’re meant to be together and you know it.”

“all i know is that i am your worst enemy now, james. not charles, not my father. me. cross my path again and you’ll see what i am capable of.”

outraged, james lets her go and leaves her room by the window, where he came from.

while the duke sleeps happily in his bed, the duchess is unable to shut down her mind for a few moments. now she fears for hers and charles’ safety.

#my writings #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #Charles Brandon #charles brandon fanfic #charles brandon x reader #charles brandon x you #the tudors

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daydreaming-in-letters · 1 year

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The Heir

Part 3

01/13/2023

Pairing: (Modern Day!)Charles Brandon x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 7,736

Warnings: language, bickering and teasing (so much teasing), alcohol, grief and regret, a smidge of angst, Charles being a giver 👅, unprotected sex, fluff

Summary: One day after the eventful evening at the pub, it's time for a visit at Brandon Manor.

A/N: His Snobbiness and the little tree hugger are back for the third and final part. I know, it's been 84 years, sorry. Hope you still enjoy!

Pictures found here, here and here.

Divider by @fireflygraphics

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

The Old House

The first stars had settled all across the early night sky when she stepped through the archway and onto the grounds of Brandon Manor. A pity it was so late in the day already, she mused, with darkness beginning to shield the beautiful garden from view which she had come to love so much. They had walked here a good many times, the late duke and her, plotting against Charles and his preposterous plans. They seemed almost blasphemous tonight, she thought, as she took in the magnificent estate that stood like a grey giant against the starry firmament.

The seagulls seemed to have decided it was time to retreat in the face of the things to come, the only sounds coming from the gravel that scrunched underneath her determined feet and the low rumble of the waves that broke against the cliffs. She wanted to get this over with, whatever it was he wanted to talk about, before he could lure her even further under his spell.

Yesterday had been a close call, she knew that now. It was still hard to admit, but to know that he had been there right behind her for the whole walk home had been a rather nice feeling. So warm and comforting, daring her to try it on and see where it would lead her. God, she had been almost tempted to wave him goodbye when she had arrived at her doorstep. He had still been there, patiently waiting by the gate until she had unlocked her door and stepped inside.

“What the fuck am I doing here?” she whispered underneath her breath while her hand found the cold head of the stone lion that guarded the main entrance to Brandon Manor in a habitual pat for good luck. “Stay focused, let him say his part and then get your stupid arse out of here before—“ No, she wouldn’t allow herself to say that out loud. Even thinking about it was wrong on so many levels. And she was glad that her body for once seemed to agree with her will as her hand yanked down the cord of the ancient doorbell decisively.

Fully prepared to wait a good while before he would make it to the door from God-knew-where in the extensive house, she flinched when only seconds later the ancient wood gave way to the outline of his broad shoulders. A faint glow surrounded him, probably coming from the library, and the absence of any other light almost hid his shit-eating grin when he recognised his guest.

“Good evening, Miss Y/L/N. Finished hugging trees already?”

A pair of attentive eyes roamed her body freely and she hated how warm it made her feel with so little effort.

“Evening, Your Snobbiness.” And without waiting for his invitation, she pressed past him.

“Please, call me Charles. I feel that’s appropriate after I witnessed you making scrambled eggs out of a useless pair of testicles yesterday.”

She didn’t need to look at him, the slight teasing in his tone was enough to make her envision the dazzling smirk that was most likely accompanying his words.

“Fine,” she mumbled almost inaudibly, forgetting why she had said it in the first place. There was a faint memory of the words she had actually wanted to throw at him, but when she had turned, his dukey handsomeness had simply taken her breath away. Of course she knew that he was a pretty fucker, but seeing him here, in his natural habitat, his sharp, stubbly jawline and his twinkling eyes hit completely different.

And as if that wasn’t already enough for her senses to deal with, he had chosen yet another outfit that one would expect to find in a posh country fashion catalogue. His camel turtleneck jumper fit his skin tone perfectly while the dark brown suede jacket he wore above it resembled the colour of his hair. And amongst all those earthy shades, his stormy blue eyes stood out like two exquisite jewels.

He must have said something judging from the hand he was holding out towards her expectantly. For a second she stared at it in total confusion, not sure whether he wanted her to take it, before she decided against her instinct and shot him a quizzical look.

“Your jacket,” he repeated the last bit of his question, a knowing smirk pulling the corners of his mouth upwards.

Bloody gorgeous man. And so she reluctantly peeled herself out of her jacket, after she had set her camera carefully onto the bench next to the coat rack. With a silent gesture he bade her to follow him as soon as she was ready.

“I assume you failed yet again on your quest to take a picture of the white stag?”

Her answer was a murderous glare. “And what if I didn’t fail this time?”

His lips twitched a little while he held her infuriated gaze. “Oh, you did. Otherwise you wouldn’t have wasted a single second to rub your success in.”

“Idiot.”

Her annoyance pulled a deep chuckle from his chest that echoed from the high walls of the empty hall as he led her up the stairs. She knew all too well where he would take her and the memory made her heart grow heavy. Right at the head of the stairs lay one of the former reception rooms which had served his father as a spacious living room with its large fireplace. Two high glass doors led onto a huge balcony. It was common knowledge that there was no view of the sea in the whole of Fakeston that was more beautiful than the view from up here.

It was here that she had last seen the old man, only a day before his heart had gotten tired of beating and as Charles opened the door for her now, she didn’t know whether to feel relieved or heartbroken about the fact that nothing had changed here since her last visit. If anything, the lack of change made it even more apparent how different the room felt now that he was gone. It seemed a little too big, a touch too dark and the crackling fire couldn’t fully warm the stately old place tonight.

She felt the sudden urge to get out of here. It had been a bad idea to meet with Charles anyway, but before she could think of a good excuse to leave, she felt Charles’ presence behind her back. In an instant she turned, neither trusting him nor herself when he was this close, but to her surprise she found him holding a small wooden box that had definitely seen better days. It was covered in battered crimson velvet which, together with the metal clasp at its front, made it look positively ancient.

“What’s that?”

“That’s the reason I needed to speak to you.”

Carefully his strong hands opened the lid to reveal a stunning gold and silver pendant, beaded with pearls and dark red gemstones. It was attached to a silver necklace that was held together by a small hook, matching the pendant perfectly.

She didn’t understand what this breathtaking piece of jewellery could possibly have to do with her and she understood even less why he shoved the box into her hands.

“It’s yours.” For a moment there was silence. She didn’t know what to say, hell, she didn’t even know if she had heard him correctly and so she was more than pleased when he chose to speak again. “My father instructed me very clearly in his last will that you should have it.”

Patiently, he waited for her response and when she still didn’t move after a while, he reached inside the box, fingers closing around the precious object to take it out. Mere seconds later she could feel the weight of the necklace around her neck, the touch of the cool metal finally making her snap out of her petrified state.

“It has been passed down in my family from generation to generation, mother to daughter or daughter-in-law. I guess leaving it to you means my father gave up all hope I’d ever find a wife to pass it on to.”

“I can’t possibly accept this.” The fingers of her free hand were already reaching for the hook, fumbling blindly at the nape of her neck, when a pair of determined hands wrapped around her own and gently stopped her antics.

“You can and you will.” His tone made it unmistakably clear that he wouldn’t argue with her on this matter, even if his eyes couldn’t fully hide the irritation about his father’s decision, and so her fingers went limp and abandoned their task. “If only because it suits you so exceptionally well.”

Had he just— “Was…Was that a compliment?”

“A compliment?” he spat, a wild smile gracing his lips as he took a step back. “Why on earth would I compliment you? Have you forgotten that we are sworn enemies?”

“How could I ever forget when your infuriating face is right in front of me as a constant reminder of our feud?”

She mirrored his dazzling smirk, her eyes refusing to do the decent thing and look away.

“I take it you’re not interested in staying for a glass of wine then?”

“Indeed I am not.” For a second his smile faltered while hers stayed perfectly in place. “Yet, it is the least I can do after robbing you of your family jewels, don’t you think?”

And there it was again, the million dollar smile that suited him so well and made her knees go weak a little every time. But now, she almost regretted her answer when it made him turn away from her to fill their glasses.

Suddenly, she felt awfully naive. Why had she agreed to stay? Did she really hope anything would happen between him and her tonight? He would never see her as anything more than a tree hugger, a nuisance to his perfect plan. Not that she wanted him to see her as anything else in the first place. What a ridiculous thought. She and Charles Brandon. Ridiculous!

It must have been the pretty room with its romantic fireplace that had gotten to her head. Maybe a bit of fresh air would make her see clearly again. And so she strutted over to the large glass doors and stepped onto the balcony. She walked straight over to the balustrade, letting the fresh breeze that came from the sea ease the turmoil he managed to awaken deep inside of her whenever she was with him.

It was a beautiful night, the crescent moon sat brightly in the clear sky, a few of its beams kissing the waves to crown them with pure silver. Despite the light, she could only guess where the land ended and the cliffs dropped down into the rolling waves although she had seen the thin line of the cliff’s edge a thousand times from this very spot. The wind wasn’t as harsh as it usually was up here, or maybe there was another reason why she didn’t feel its chilly blow as strongly tonight.

Unconsciously, her fingers lifted to find the Brandons’ family heirloom. The pendant felt a little strange as it rested against her warm skin, the white drop of a pearl that was attached to it dangling dangerously close above the valley of her breasts.

She had been so deep in thought that she almost jumped when the glass of wine appeared seemingly out of nowhere in front of her face. Still a little startled, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“The necklace is quite heavy.”

“My father always said it was a symbol of the hardships our title brings along with it.”

“Hardships?” She huffed. “I’m sorry, but I fail to see the hardships you are suffering because of your title.”

His face stayed completely unreadable as he looked out across the bay and for a moment she thought he might not have heard her pointed remark at all when he turned to her again with that playful smirk on his lips.

“Well, for one, there would be the hardship of your company.”

“Hm. Isn’t it the other way around really? I mean, I suffer from your company just as much, plus, it’s me who has to carry the burden of this historical necklace from now on.”

He lifted his glass, using it to point towards her own.

“It’s a good thing you have some wine then to help you through the seemingly never ending hours of my company.”

He leaned in, still holding out his glass towards her with that darned smile on his face.

“To our shared suffering.”

“Cheers.”

Even in the darkness his eyes cast their bewitching spell on her as he held her gaze while he lifted his glass. And he didn’t let go, not even to blink. This man was insufferable, leaving her no choice but to be the reasonable one in this duo and pretend to let her eyes wander to enjoy the majestic view across the moonlit bay.

“How’s Henry? I haven’t seen him around since you used him to thwart my plans the other morning.”

“He’s fine. He fell asleep in the library a while ago. It’s his favourite place in the house. Probably something about the sweet smell of old books, don’t you think?”

She looked over at him and she couldn’t help but wonder if he actually shared his dog’s fondness for old books. There was something utterly enticing about the thought of him in that library, sitting on the window seat or in one of the old wing chairs, completely lost to the world around him. She bet he had the most wonderful reading voice, low and warm as he painted colourful pictures word by word.

“Are you okay?”

Shit, she must have zoned out for a moment.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m fine. Totally fine.”

In a small fit of panic her hand locked around the heavy pendant again and his eyes followed her movement, providing her with the perfect opportunity to seize revenge for making her fantasise about him. Slowly her fingers loosened and glided along the curve of her breast in slow motion until she let her arm fall to her side nonchalantly.

“You’re shivering. Should we go back inside?”

“No, I’m not,” he denied, his eyes shooting up from her chest to form an expression of outrage.

Oh, he had definitely been shivering. “Yes, you are, Your Grace.”

“I am most certainly not.” He raised his chin in defiance. “But we can go back inside if you wish.”

With a triumphant smile, she nodded and wasted no more time to turn towards the building.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you called me by my title,” he started to tease again as they headed inside, obviously regaining his old self-confidence.

“Oh, I wouldn’t read too much into that if I were you. Just a little something to warm your heart as you were so obviously freezing.”

“Was not!”

“Yes, you were.”

He huffed, rolling his eyes like an annoyed teenager, but he couldn’t hide the small smile that tugged at his lips. His enticing, perfectly shaped lips, so tempting, so kissable, making it so easy to forget that he was still the villain in this whole story.

The sudden change of air as they stepped back inside made her shudder and she drew away before he could notice. She could feel his quizzical gaze on her back as she walked over to the dark mahogany table that held an old gramophone, its metal horn shining in the dancing flames of the fire. It didn’t surprise her in the least when she found the same record sitting on the turntable that had played during her last visit and even after she had wound the crank and carefully placed the needle, her lips held a wistful smile when she looked up to find Charles again.

He was standing by the fireplace now, watching her carefully. She could be mistaken in the dim light, but was there a hint of concern in his eyes? Or was it something else entirely? Something she felt inside as well and was trying so hard to push aside.

“What are you doing?” he asked. The question seemed a bit silly, especially since the first crackling notes of the song already filled the silence, but she chose to satisfy his curiosity anyway.

“Making some music.”

She didn’t know what vexed him more, that she seemed to find it necessary to state the obvious for him or the smug smile she chose to accompany her statement with, but the rolling of his eyes in fake annoyance had been well worth it.

“Thanks for enlightening me, but I can see that.”

“Then why bother asking?” He was just about to come up with a flippant retort, when she cut him off short. “Did you know that this was your father’s favourite?”

“I…I didn’t.” In the blink of an eye all the playfulness that had made his eyes shine so beautifully was gone. “Just like all the other things I didn’t know about him.”

He tore his eyes away to stare into the flames instead, making her stomach clench and her heart ache for him. In the past, she had often imagined to hurt his Snobbiness in the most creative ways for what he wanted to do to the very building they were standing in right now, but never would she have aimed this low. Yet, without intent, she had and before she even knew what she was doing, she found herself by his side, her hand gently squeezing his arm.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have…” Slowly he lifted his gaze to find her eyes again, and for a moment, she forgot how to breathe upon the sheer amount of pain and regret that mirrored in the stormy blue. “Can we please not talk about this tonight?”

“Of course.”

Anything. Anything to make that sparkle return to his eyes again.

“How about a dance instead?”

“Huh?”

Anything but that, obviously. He couldn’t be serious, could he? She must have misheard.

“Dance with me. Please.”

He was joking. He must be. As if she would—

A movement broke her train of thought, and when she followed it, she found his hand already waiting for her to take it. So she had heard him correctly. Interesting. Interesting and rather fortunate. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for all evening, her chance to fight for her cause once again. Maybe the last she would ever get. There was no way she couldn’t take it, still she felt bad about what she was about to do.

“I will, if you agree to come to the village council meeting and talk about your plans for Brandon Manor.”

She had expected him to decline or at least think it over for a moment, but he didn’t even hesitate.

“Agreed.”

Eager to cash in his benefit of the deal immediately, he didn’t even wait for her to process his answer before he grabbed her hand and pulled her into his arms. The smuggest of grins began to spread over his face as a startled gasp escaped her, and instead of allowing her some space to breathe, he even tightened his hold and brought her closer still.

A dance. It was just a dance. No need to freeze in his arms, every muscle taut to a point that bordered on painful. But forcing herself to relax was easier said than done, with him pressed up against her body, moving so close to her, only the slightest bit, but enough to make her feel all of him. She didn’t dare look up into his eyes, afraid of what she would find there and, even worse, what it would do to her. Unfortunately, looking down turned out to be no less aggravating as the image of his defined pecs forced itself upon her, clenching and stretching the fine wool of his jumper so deliciously.

Heat. Heat was all she felt. The heat from the fire, the heat of his touch, seeping through her clothes and underneath her skin where his large hand rested against her back, rushing through her, multiplying, until it filled every last inch of her being.

Even the divine softness of the suede leather underneath her fingertips couldn’t soothe her agony. She could still feel him, despite the extra layer of clothing it provided, and no matter how hard she tried to fight it, the thought how he would feel against her without the protection of their clothes kept pushing itself back into her mind relentlessly. It was torture, and enchanting none the less. It made her careless, made her want to relax in his arms, to give in and let him lead the way.

But the spell was broken suddenly when she could feel his leg slide in between hers, his massive thigh clenching and pressing against the one spot where all the heat that burned her body from the inside seemed to collect. With another gasp, her head flew up. A bad idea, she realised, as the sudden movement stirred the air and, the very second her eyes locked onto his, brought a heady whiff of his scent. And she was lost, defenceless against the invasion of her every sense by the same man she had vowed to oppose—to hate—forever.

And now she found herself in his arms, dizzy with want for him, clinging to him tighter with every passing second. She needed to stop this before it would lead to something more, something they would both regret in the morning.

“Remind me again,” she whispered, resting her cheek against his to hide her face, “how did we end up here?”

“I guess it all started with you touching my hand that night at the pub.” He fell silent for a moment, but she could sense that there was something else coming. “I have been wanting to ask you all evening. Why did you do it?”

Her first instinct was to evade his question or to tease him again, but there was something about the tone of his voice, about the way his body seemed to stiffen the slightest bit, that made it impossible not to answer him truthfully.

“I remembered something your father had told me about you. By the time I thought it was just wishful thinking or his guilty conscience speaking. I thought he wanted to make excuses for your abominable behaviour so badly that he’d rather blame himself than letting his son be the villain in this scenario. But that night at the pub, I…I realised he may have been right about you all along.”

“And what did he tell you?”

His lips were so close to her ear, his warm breath wafting over her neck with a shiver.

“He…he believed that the death of your mother broke you and he regretted he wasn’t able to give you the love you would have needed and deserved so much. Your father only realised when it was too late that he had been so caught up in his own grief he had failed at being a good father to you.”

It was the truth, and still it pained her to tell it. Not as much as it must have pained him, judging from the deafening silence that pushed itself between the two of them for a while.

“So it was pity I have to thank for this?”

The icy spite in his voice froze her in place at once. On instinct his accusation made her push him off a little, to be away from him just as much as to be able to look into his eyes. Still her words were as soft as the touch of a feather when she spoke again.

“No. I think your grief gave me something I could relate to, something we had in common. And even though I wanted to hate you more than anything, I couldn’t. Not anymore.” Her eyes fell to her hands that still rested against his chest from pushing him off. “I guess you can’t really hate a person you share an experience as intense as the early loss of a parent with.”

She had feared he might have questions that would force her to dig up the memory of her father again, a memory she had so carefully stowed away deep inside her heart. Only sometimes, on the rarest of occasions, she allowed it to resurface, but it always came at the cost of pain and tears and nightmares. But to her great surprise he didn’t ask any questions. Instead she could feel the gentle touch of his fingers, grasping her chin and lifting her head.

“I’m glad my father had you in his life when I couldn’t be there for him.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself. He knew why you couldn’t and he forgave you for it.”

“I know.” The hand on her chin fell to his side as he tore his eyes away from hers. “What I don’t know is if I can ever forgive myself.”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that either, but I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to have this weigh on your conscience for the rest of your life.”

With her words, the song died away, leaving a silence that was almost unbearable. It made her uncomfortable, more than their first encounter or his unexpected appearance at the pub ever could have, and it made her foolish. And so she reached for his hand.

She had never expected her gesture to bring much comfort, but then he squeezed it gently, and she couldn’t believe her eyes when he even brought it up to his lips to place a tender kiss to her knuckles. This must be a dream. His Snobbiness would never…

It was only when he pulled her in again, holding her tight and swaying her slowly that she realised the next song had started to play. Eyes fixed on her, he monitored her closely. She didn’t know if he was waiting for something or if he was just teasing again, whatever it was, she didn’t want this to stop.

“So, um, Miss Treehugger, we’re still sworn enemies, right?”

“Oh, yes, absolutely, Your Snobbiness.”

“Good. Good. I’d thought you might say that.” He still held her gaze, his face the epitome of seriousness as his forehead began to wrinkle. “Tell me this though. Why are you smiling then?”

“Smiling?” She wasn’t, was she? Oh dear, it seemed she was. Deny. Deny. “I’m not smiling.”

“No, you definitely are smiling.” Urgh, she was. And that measly try of playing it down wouldn’t even have convinced herself.

“I told you, I am most certainly not! Probably just about to have a stroke caused by the enraging company.”

As excuses go, that had certainly been a better one. Still, it didn’t need more than a cock of his eyebrow to make her cave.

“Fine. So what if I was actually smiling?”

His pokerface was without a doubt masterful in comparison to hers.

“Nothing,” he stated nonchalantly. “I would just be wondering what you are smiling about.” “My point exactly. What would I have to smile about right now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe…could it be because of me?” The scornful huff that came from deep within didn’t seem to impress him much. “Do you by any chance enjoy dancing with me?” He even had the audacity to lean in. “Being close to me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Your Grace.”

A deep chuckle followed her comment, and the mischievous sparkle in his eyes told her that he was far from finished teasing her.

“You know, just a thought, but if the two of us were characters in a story, I think we both know that right now was the moment we would ever so slightly drift closer until—”

His voice was so deliciously low, luring her into the little narrative he had spun.

“Until?” she breathed, her eyes betraying her last restraint, already knowing the answer as they dropped down to his mouth.

“Until our lips would touch in a tender kiss.”

With all her might she willed down the moan that was forming in her throat, but still her body chose to betray her, pressing itself up against his, one hand drifting around his neck.

“You mean like this?”

“Exactly like this.”

Determined fingers cupped her cheek without resistance and she knew she was lost as his eyes betrayed him just as much, glued to the movement of her lips as she went on.

“What a ridiculous thought. You hate me, just as much as I hate you. And this enemies-to-lovers nonsense only ever works in corny romance stories.”

“You’re right. It’s ludicrous. I would never.”

Determined fingers pulled her face to his, his hot breath caressing her lips. And with the final shred of sanity leaving her body, she whispered her last protest.

“Never.”

And then his lips were there, so soft, yet so enticingly demanding. There was no more room for teasing as he pulled her closer, his body moving so delectably against her own while his mouth devoured her, coaxed her to open up to him so he could claim her wholly. And by all that was holy to her, she wanted him. Wanted to feel his hands on her bare skin, his mouth roam her breasts while he moved inside her. She wanted to be his, and make him hers in return. But—

With a gasp she broke away. “I should leave now.”

“Why?”

She had hurt him, again. But he would thank her for it in the morning.

“To spare us both the regret.” Obviously, he wasn’t of the same opinion at all, clasping her even tighter. “Please, if you don’t let me leave now, I fear I won’t be able to stop.”

“Is that what you want? To stop?”

Oh, how much she wanted to lie, to tell him that she didn’t want him at all, that this was wrong. But she couldn’t. And when her answer finally came, it was feeble but decided.

“No.”

“Then don’t.”

The words sounded so simple from his mouth, so logical, but they were nothing compared to the feeling of giving in to her desire. It was all-consuming, pulling her in until she wanted to drown in his kisses just to be resurrected by his possessive touch, spiralling her right into a frenzy. There were hands and mouths everywhere. And in a heartbeat she was afire, burning in his arms, and yet she had never felt more alive.

It was only the touch of his bare skin against hers that made her come to her senses again.

“Charles,” she sighed and as if she had lifted the spell that had unleashed their carnal desire, he broke away. But she had been wrong once again, it seemed, as she opened her eyes to find the most alluring sight in front of her, making her knees go weak in an instant. But despite the most prominent thing, she couldn’t even tell what aroused her more, his furry chest, heaving as he used the short intermission to catch his breath, or his eyes, dark, and gleaming with want for her as they roamed her naked form freely. She could have stared at him forever, sadly the pleasure his sight brought was short lived. Soon his gaze settled on her neck, making her wonder what was so interesting about it until his hand reached out to trace the silver necklace all the way down to the gorgeous pendant.

“As I said,” he grinned cheekily, “exceptional.”

His lips mimicked his fingers, following their path along the precious piece of jewellery, and further down. He was kissing, licking, sucking every last inch of her chest, basking in the sweet melody of lewd sounds he coaxed from her lips. She found herself on the brink of madness already when all of a sudden, he decided to stop. Her eyes snapped open in an instant, finding him on his knees, the exact position she wanted him in, his lips mere inches away from her stomach, but all he did was stare up at her with a wicked grin on his lips.

“You are insufferable, Brandon.”

As expected, his grin only grew wider. “Am I now?” And with that his lips found her skin again. Leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses, he ventured south, seemingly giving her what she wanted, just to hold once again, right above where she needed his attention most.

“Will you stop teasing me already?”

“As you wish.”

She had never expected him to yield this easily and so she watched in disbelief as his tongue found her hot sex, slipping right in between her folds without hesitation.

“Ah, fuck!”

His eyes shot up to hers upon the expletive his actions had caused, and although his mouth was too engaged in pleasuring her to display the devilish smirk on his face, the twinkle in his eyes gave him away. What a sight, to see his gorgeous face between her legs, his sharp tongue finally put to good use after the aggravating comments it usually produced. A skill he had mastered just as much as the art of making her knees buckle and her head swim with the exquisite rolls and flicks of his tongue.

As if he had read her mind, his eyebrows rose up in a challenge and she had to bite her tongue not to moan his name out loud again. She wouldn’t grant him that satisfaction, not before he had granted hers. But he seemed very eager to please tonight, so his tongue was soon joined by two of his fingers. Carefully they pressed into her, a task made easy by the juices that had already collected thanks to his supreme ministrations, while his other hand clutched her bottom tightly to keep her upright.

She had thought it was a rather presumptuous gesture, but as soon as he started to move within her, she found that it wasn’t enough at all. In the dire need to steady herself, she grabbed a fistful of his hair. Just the one should be sufficient, she assumed, but she was proven wrong once more. Her tight grip on him forced a groan so powerful the vibration made her see stars as it rolled across her sensitive pearl. And so her other hand dove into his lush locks as well.

She was so close already, her hands now guiding his movements in tune with the rhythmic thrusts of his fingers. God, this was—

“Don’t stop,” she panted, “don’t you dare stop.”

He didn’t. Instead she heard him mumble something against her that sounded suspiciously like, “Never,” before he tightened his firm grip on her behind to pull her further into him and all of her senses clouded over at once. Her eyes fell closed as the rapture of her high surged through her. She didn’t feel her fingers tighten in his hair, didn’t hear his muffled curses against her sex, half pleasure half pain, that mixed with her own praise of his name so beautifully.

“Charles,” she whispered once again as he slowly retreated, leaving her blissed out yet unbearably empty and already hungry for more. Her whole body was still trembling as he guided her onto his lap and into a strong pair of arms that eagerly awaited her. For a while he just held her like that, his hands drifting up and down her back soothingly while her fingers subconsciously played with the silky fur that covered his chest, until she had calmed down.

Then, as if it was nothing to him, he moved her around, softly laying her onto the plush, warm carpet next to the fireplace.

“Are you all right?” he asked, hovering above her, his thumb lightly gliding along the apple of her cheek.

“I’m perfect.”

“Perfect? Really? Are you sure?”

The playfulness in his voice made her chuckle, and the slight movement it caused evoked his hardened arousal to twitch promisingly against her.

“Well,” she rasped, fingernails grazing down his side, “maybe not completely perfect.”

He smirked through the shiver her nails had caused, “That’s what I thought.”

But to her great dismay, he seemed to be in no hurry to reach that state of perfection he had so thoroughly hinted at, as he leaned down ever so slowly to catch her lips with his. It didn’t take long though before his craving seemed to grow stronger. Soon he deepened the kiss, his tongue fulfilling what the teasing roll of his hips so far had only promised. But then she could feel it, his hand finally reaching in between their bodies. Yet, it was no time to rejoice because, being the annoying tease he was, he chose to torture her just a little longer, dragging his tip lazily through her folds, pressing it into her entrance only the slightest bit every now and then.

“Are you really going to make me beg, Your Grace?”

He might have planned on it, she couldn’t tell for sure, but the second his title rolled so pointedly over he tongue, he was done for. With a groan so sinful it caused another blazing wave of heat to shoot through her core, he gave in, sinking into her slowly but all at once.

The sensation of feeling him, all of him, threatening to overwhelm her, she clung to him tightly, legs closing around his hips just in case he was considering to tease her again. But he didn’t, not anymore. His mind was set on one thing only now, and he was about to drive her insane in the process with his slow, deep strokes.

All she could feel was him, moving inside her, stirring the fire he had already unleashed once anew, his lips that had found her neck, sucking her soft flesh as his heady grunts and groans invaded her ears. It was everything, almost too much, yet still not enough.

But the relief came soon, with a single bite to her neck. The sweet sting made her back arch, slightly shifting the angle of his already maddening thrusts and she keened in delight as he hit the perfect spot. Over and over he found it, slowly making her loose all sense of time and space. She needed to touch him, to look into his eyes once more before she would be gone to the world a second time. Her hands reached for him on instinct, cupping his cheeks to lift his head from the crook of her neck and she was rewarded with the most dazzling smile she had ever seen on his face.

“Are you gonna come for me again?”

Yes, god, yes, she would. Just one more moment, one more languid thrust, one more look at his sickeningly handsome face, those lips, so perfectly shaped, she mused as her thumb traced the pink flesh. With the grin of a famished wolf who was only seconds away from sating his ravenous hunger on his prey, his lips opened and her finger slipped inside. Greedily he sucked it deeper, elation flooding his blue orbs the second he watched her eyes roll back into her head as she satisfied his desire and surrendered herself to euphoria once again.

Through the haze of her high she heard him moan her name, faintly noticed his hand reaching for her own, fingers intertwining before he tightened his grip and allowed himself to join her in her rapture.

His kisses grew soft as their frenzied passion slowly subsided, and with one final brush of her lips and a placid smile he rolled off of her. It was cold in the absence of his body over hers and she shivered.

“Come here,” he mumbled, offering her the comfortable resting spot on his wide chest and she accepted. Immediately his warmth embraced her. It was peaceful here by the fire, nestled into his side, one arm holding her tight, legs entangled while his lips pressed to her hair. She could have stayed like this forever.

In the silence, the drum of his heart was loud and clear against her ear, strong and steady beats underneath her fingertips, seemingly unfazed by what had just passed between them. And it was in this very moment the realisation hit her harder than it should have, leaving a touch of nausea in her stomach.

But what had she expected? That he would be deliriously happy? That he would fall in love with her just because they had shared this insignificant moment of passion? She was such a fool.

She must have stirred in his arms, drawing his attention to her agitated state unintentionally.

“What’s wrong? Are you cold?”

Her first impulse was to go with it or simply act as if there wasn’t a single thing burdening her mind, but even now that whatever they had was officially over, she couldn’t bring herself to lie to him.

“No. I’m just so…disappointed.”

“Ouch. That’s a first,” he huffed, the wound in his words unmistakeable even though he tried to hide it behind a crooked smile.

“Not in you.” Idiot, she would have liked to add. But that would be unfair since the only idiot in the room was she. “In myself.” And with that she sat up.

He followed her example immediately, pushing himself up onto his elbow.

“What? Why?”

“Because I did the one thing I vowed never to do.” She couldn’t stand the confusion on his face any longer, honest or fake, she needed to turn away and burry her face in her hands. “Oh god, I really did sleep with the enemy in the end.”

The low chuckle that followed felt like a slap. A well earned one, that much was clear. She should have known he would attempt to lure her under his spell and fuck her brains out so she would give up her silly war and let him have his way with Brandon Manor, and she had made it so easy for him. She hadn't even tried to resist him.

“Did you though?”

His answer startled her and she needed a moment to process his words.

“Well, obviously,” she snapped over her shoulder, “or are you telling me you are not the Duke of Suffolk?”

“I’m sorry to say I am.” He sighed, and his scorching breath rolled over her shoulder like a warning. Still she flinched when a second later his lips pressed to the very same spot in a soft kiss. “But maybe I’m not your enemy.”

“You still want to build this bloody hotel, don’t you?”

Her voice was icy and she hoped with all her might that he would finally take the hint and leave her be before her hand would slip. God knew he could use a little clip round the ear.

“It pains me a little to admit after all the fun I had bickering with you, but I don’t.” What? He couldn’t be serious. In the blink of an eye she turned around, searching his eyes to see if he was just mocking her, but all she found was the tiniest hint of an apologetic smile on his lips. “And I never did. I made the whole thing up to get back at my old man.”

So he had been lying to her this whole time? The little… She wanted to slap him now more than ever, but then she realised what this actually meant. Brandon Manor was safe. No teardown, no hotel. And as soon as the rage had bubbled up inside of her, it calmed again.

“But you’re still leaving by the end of the month?”

“That was the plan, yes. Other than this old house, nothing is keeping me here.” She felt the sudden urge to avert her gaze, but somehow there was something about the way he looked at her that forced down her first instinct. “But I have a feeling that might be about to change.”

There he sat, right in front of her with that darned triumphant smile on his face, His Snobbiness Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, her sworn enemy, about to worm his way into her heart and there was nothing she could do but sit and watch.

“You know,” he rasped while his fingers trailed along the line of her jaw and made her shiver, “I heard tree hugging is supposed to be very beneficial for the heart. So I think I might give that a try.” His fingertips had come dangerously close to her lips and she was about to open up and let him do whatever he wanted to when they fell away and the suddenly very ceremonious tone of his voice irritated her. “I also still have the duties of a duke to fulfil, a county to rule—”

“Idiot,” she chuckled in amusement, her palm pressing against his chest playfully to push him further off of her. But he was quick to grab her wrist, his other hand cupping her cheek as he hauled her against his chest again.

“And a few peasants to vex.”

His kiss wasn’t like any other kiss they had exchanged tonight. It felt easy, free of all the tension and silent doubt that had been hovering above them this whole time. This, right here, right now, was heaven.

She was still smiling when he stopped to look at her again.

“What? Did you think you would get rid of me so easily?”

“Oh, I’d never count myself that lucky, Your Grace.”

The boyish grin on his lips died away suddenly, making room for a hunger in his eyes she didn’t find there for the first time tonight.

“You know,” he growled dangerously lowly, “you really should go easy on the Your-Grace-thing, at least if you ever want us to get to that village council meeting you lured me into in exchange for that dance.”

“I think I’ll take my chances,” slowly she leaned in, her cheek brushing along his until her lips found his ear in a whisper, “Your Grace.”

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poledancingdinos · 1 year

Text

Second Chance

Pairing: Charles Brandon X OFC (Emily)

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Angst, forbidden love and some long awaited smut

A/N: This is it, the final part. I hope it meets all of your expectations. If you haven’t read my Charles Brandon Modern AU yet, find them here : Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Emily watched the droplets of rain drip down the train’s window as it pulled into the Paddington station platform before coming to a slow stop. A muffled voice called the name of the station over the intercom, signaling it was time for Emily to stand.

She collected her bag and followed the throng of people down onto the busy platform. She’d steadfastly avoided the big city since moving to Somerset. Had it not been for the fact that her brother all but demanded her presence, she wouldn’t have even considered it.

“Emily, dear, it’s been too long,” her mother called as she approached the waiting car. She let herself be pulled into the embrace, feeling no warmth at all from the older woman. Shouldn’t a hug from one’s mother feel at least a little comforting? Charles’ mother had once scratched her bag during a meal between the two families and the sensation had almost made her melt right there in the chair. No, she shouldn’t be thinking about him, not if she was going to get through the next forty-eight hours.

“I’ve been busy with my new job,” Emily argued, sliding into the backseat of the car.

“I don’t see how your job could have kept you that busy, you’re just an administrative assistant.”

Ten seconds in her mother’s presence was all that was necessary to remind her why she hadn’t returned any of her phone calls in the last months.

“Anyhow, you’re here now. I couldn’t help but notice you haven’t brought a garment bag. What are you going to wear to the wedding tomorrow?”

“I have a dress in my bag.”

Her mother turned to her, a look of utter mortification and disgust on her face. “I will not have my daughter wear some Primark dress to her brother’s wedding.”

She leaned forward, instructing the driver to take them to one of her favored luxury dress shops. Emily wasn’t even offended by the comment, having grown immune to them after a lifetime of receiving casual insults.

“I’m not letting you buy me a dress that costs three months of my wages.”

Surely that money could be donated to charity rather than being spent on a dress that would most likely end up collecting dust because she had no appropriate occasion to wear it again. Maybe she could wear it while she did the dishes like Monica from “Friends” had done with that wedding dress.

“Your brother insisted on having you at his wedding. I would have been satisfied making up some excuse about you being away on business but since you are going to be present, you will not embarrass your father and me.”

Emily went along with the shopping trip, if only to avoid having to waste her time and energy arguing with her mother. The faster this wedding was over, the faster she could run back to her quiet life away from the drama.

“Are we meeting Henry for dinner?” Emily asked once they’d returned to the car with two different dresses packed in the garment bags her mother cared about so deeply. She had a sneaking suspicion that the second dress her mother had insisted on buying was not simply due to the desire to spoil her daughter.

“Yes, we’ve made reservations at the hotel. You will have an hour to wash up. Make sure you look presentable, the Howards will be there.”

Emily hummed in acknowledgment, not bothering to point out that her mother didn’t seem as excited at the prospect of her eldest child getting married as she was at having the opportunity to rub elbows with her future daughter-in-laws wealthy parents.

The entire floor of the hotel had been reserved for the wedding guests and a few familiar faces nodded in greeting as she walked down the hall to her room. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of polite yet exceedingly boring small talk. Whenever the subject drifted to her job, her father would interrupt by suggesting another round of drinks or boasting about his various business dealings.

After she was finally able to escape, she all but collapsed from exhaustion. Holding up appearances was no easy feat and if she was to repeat the same process the next day, she would need to be well rested.

Charles went through a mental checklist of all his responsibilities as the groom’s best man. At the top of the list was making sure Henry didn’t pack up and run but as soon as Charles had seen her, he’d had to make sure it wasn’t him who ran out of the church.

Of course she would be there, she was the groom’s sister after all, but even so, he’d never let himself believe she would actually come. He couldn’t remember a word of his best friend’s vows, his entire focus being consumed by Emily.

She, however, hadn’t so much as looked at him which he knew was intentional. If she’d been indifferent to his presence, there would be the occasional accidental glance his way as her eyes flickered around the room. Instead, Emily kept her eyes forward. They never strayed from her brother and his bride except when she was spoken to.

She looked breathtaking. The dress she wore was elegant, hugging her form without ever exposing too much. He had a feeling it was her mother’s choice rather than her own. Emily favored darker colors, but the dress she wore now was a pastel color he’d once heard her call “snot green”.

After Emily moved away, he’d caved to one of Henry’s numerous invitations. With their history, staying away was more suspicious than anything anyway and he’d come to miss his closest friend. He’d only agreed to stay away from them both to respect Emily’s wishes.

“Brandon.” Henry’s voice pulled the young man from his thoughts. Henry put a hand on his shoulder leaning in close to Charles’ ear so as to avoid being overheard. ”Do me a favor and dance with my sister. My father needs us to look like a happy little family and her sulking in a corner is not good for business. Turn on the charm and, for God’s sake, make her smile.”

Charles didn’t hesitate, rising from his seat as soon as Henry stepped away. He crossed the room quickly, afraid that Emily would run if she saw him approach. He dropped down into the seat on her left, placing himself between her and the room.

“Aren’t you afraid that my brother will get upset to see you talking to me? Doesn’t that break some sort of male friendship rule?”

“He was the one who suggested I ask you to dance.”

Emily looked over Charles’ shoulder to find her brother giving her a pointed look.

“Is that all he suggested?”

“He may have said I should charm you into smiling.”

Emily scoffed, shaking her head. “You do know my brother just pimped you out for my father’s benefit.”

Charles took a deep breath, letting it out in a slow sigh as he leaned forward. Request from her brother or not, he was given a unique opportunity and he was not going to waste it. “Or, maybe, this is a chance for us to have that date I suggested five years ago.”

Emily leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs. She didn’t like the way the small hint of his cologne had caused butterflies to form in the pit of her stomach.

“That’s a bit presumptuous of you,” she teased, hiding her nerves behind a bit of cheek.

Charles swallowed, catching hold of Emily’s hand and brushing his thumb on her knuckles. “Only if you haven’t been thinking of me the same way I’ve been thinking of you.”

Emily’s breath hitched, looking down at where Charles’ touch sent sparks up through her entire body. “And why would you think that I have?” The cracking in her voice made her false indifference much less convincing.

He moved even closer, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke his next words. “Because every time I’ve thought back to that night, I remembered the way you looked at me. And I dare think it was more than just lust.”

Maybe it was unwise to bring up such a topic during the first conversation they’d had in half a decade, but he’d waited long enough. He pulled back just enough to see her expression shift to a familiar softness.

“Yeah, just like that.”

She held his gaze as the silence drew out between them. Not even the loud chatter or the live music could interrupt their little heated moment.

“I think I’d like to go back to my room now.”

Charles’ heart sank but he didn’t protest, simply nodding in acceptance. “I’ll walk you up,” he said, clearing his throat as he forced himself to smile, though it didn’t hide the disappointment on his handsome face.

She put a hand around his arm, letting him guide her to Henry to say goodnight. Their father seemed less than thrilled but when she made up an excuse about feeling unwell, the woman he’d been speaking to waved them off, even praising Charles for looking out for her. Henry glared at them as they left but Charles didn’t pay him any attention.

The pair of them were silent as they entered the elevator but Emily never released his arm. They paused outside her room as she dug through her clutch. Her keycard was one of the only three items in her small purse and she was well aware it was tuckd in the fold behind her phone, but she needed a moment to think.

Five years. Five years she had tried to put her feelings to rest. Five years she had failed. Finding out it had been the same for him, was almost too much.

“Charles?”

Her whisper was so quiet that he almost didn’t hear her say his name. Slipping a finger under her chin, he tilted her head up to bring her gaze to his. “Yes?”

“You’re right. It’s more. It was always more.”

Charles pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. “Then don’t push me away,” he implored.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He didn’t want to be a witness to the rejection he feared was coming, but instead of expressing harsh words, her soft lips brushed against his.

His hands instantly found their way to her hips, pushing her backwards until her body was pinned between his chest and the door. Her lips parted as she let out a surprised gasp and Charles took the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Not wanting to partake in a spontaneous episode of exhibitionism, Emily placed her hands on Charles’ chest and forced him back. She turned, struggling to fit her key card into the slot while her hands shook with the nerves currently tying her stomach in knots.

She almost cried out victoriously when the lock beeped, the little green light flashing twice. The door swung open and Emily surprised Charles by yanking him into the room by his black tie. The shock only lasted for a brief moment before they were joined in another heated kiss.

Emily pushed the jacket off Charles’ shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. While she was busy working through his various layers of clothing, his hands reacquainted himself with her body. When all that was left to remove was his underwear, Charles reached for the zipper concealed under Emily’s arm, freezing once he’d pulled it down.

“I… I don’t have any condoms.”

She tried to keep her composure but a laugh still escaped her. Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. It’s just…”

“It’s just that it didn’t do us any good last time,” he finished for her.

“Yeah... Don’t worry, I’m on birth control.”

Charles cupped Emily’s cheeks, her dress slipping down a few inches to reveal her naked chest and testing Charles’ restraint.

“We don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” she whispered, pushing the dress down over her hips, “but I want to.”

Charles slipped his hands down Emily’s sides then under her ass, lifting her up into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his hips on instinct as he carried her towards the bed.

His hair was longer than she had ever seen it and Emily couldn’t resist running her fingers through the silky strands. When he deposited her onto her back and wrapped his mouth around one peaked nipple, her grip unconsciously tightened.

“Oh fuck!”

He explored her body with his lips, pulling more expletives from her and slowly finding his way to Emily’s underwear. He quickly discarded the delicate fabric but before Charles had the chance to bury his head between her legs, Emily pulled him back up.

“You can do that next time.”

Charles made a satisfied noise that could only be described as a growl. “Next time? I like the sound of that.”

His fingers brushed a strand of hair from Emily’s forehead as he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple then another to her jaw. The only thing between them was the thin cotton of his boxers which were soon thrown to the floor.

Emily pulling her knees wider apart was all the encouragement needed for Charles to take himself in hand and sink into her waiting core. A shuddering gasp escaped her lips as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck.

Her body tightened around the intrusion, causing Charles to hiss. “Don’t do that or this will be over before either of us has the chance to enjoy it.”

“I can’t help it, you feel too good.”

He breathed hard as he attempted to get his racing heart to slow. Charles kept perfectly still until Emily’s nose brushed against his jaw, coaxing him to turn his head. Their eyes locked and after a small nod from Emily, Charles withdrew his hips.

Groping Emily’s thigh, Charles angled her hips upwards and slowly sheathed himself back into her wet heat. No matter how much of her he had under his touch, it never felt like enough — not her legs around his waist, not her hands gliding across his shoulders, not her chest under his. Every part of her slotted against him so perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle.

Emily moaned in his ear, moving in time with his thrusts and spurring him on. He wished he could make the moment last forever but the wait had been so long that he struggled to hold on to his control. Placing both hands on either side of Emily’s head, Charles pushed himself up.

“Wha— Don’t stop.”

“I couldn’t stop if I tried,” he answered, slipping a hand between their bodies and lowering his head to suck a deep hickey onto the swell of her breast. If he was going to find his release, he was going to make sure that she found it with him.

Her fingers sank into his hair, guiding him a few inches lower. He was happy to oblige, circling his tongue around her nipple while his deft fingers did the same to her clit.

“Ohh…”

Emily’s legs quivered as pleasure coursed through her entire body. The hot walls squeezing Charles’ dick forced a strangled groan from deep within his chest.

“God, I’m so close.”

So was Charles but he couldn’t form the words out loud. He snapped his hips hard, setting a brutal pace but Emily took everything he had to give. Every thrust hit that sweet spot within her, soon sending her tumbling over the edge. He locked his lips over hers, swallowing her shouts while he spilled himself inside her. Emily’s nails cut the skin of his back, contrasting the shivering pleasure that ran along his spine.

When they had both regained the ability to breathe, Charles rolled onto his back, pulling Emily to lay on his chest. Her hair had come undone from its tight updo and was now tickling his neck. He ran his fingers through it, sweeping the locks aside and uncovering her face.

“Hey…”

Emily tilted her head up, looking at Charles with a hooded gaze. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want to run this time. But if you ask me to, I’ll be gone before anyone can find out I was here.”

Emily pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, considering his words. She loved her quiet life but there was no doubt there was something missing. That something was not a material thing, it was more like an empty place in her heart. She shifted above him, hovering an inch from his face while his finger tips travelled over her back.

“I don’t want you to go. I don’t care if anyone finds out about tonight… but I don’t want anyone to know what really happened five years ago. Are you okay with that?”

Charles brushed a finger down her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. Though his feelings had never faded, he’d long since stopped hoping that one day she would ask him to stay.

He couldn’t begin to understand how difficult it must have been for her to go through everything essentially alone. If she wanted to continue to keep their first encounter secret, he would respect her choice.

“You are all I want.”

Their lips crashed together in a bruising assault, a testament to their past and a promise of everything to come in their shared future.

#Charles Brandon #Charles Brandon x ofc #Charles brandon fic #Charles brandon fanfic #Charles brandon fanfiction #charles brandon smut #duke of suffolk #the tudors fanfic #henry cavill #modern au

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lmillay-masterlists · 5 months

Text

Unfinished Tales

These are stories that have no ending and only a beginning.

Castle (Ivar.OFC)

Cherry Bomb (Chris Hemsworth.Liam Hemsworth.OFC)

Coffee For Your Head (Tom Holland.OFC)

Dark Habits (Sebastian Stan.OFC)

Dark Paradise (Loki.OFC)

Bad Girls (Chris Evans.OFC)

#chris evans fanfic #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #charles brandon fanfic #charles brandon fanfiction #henry cavill #ivar the boneless #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #ivar the boneless fanfic

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princessaxoxo · 6 months

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Hopelessly Devoted

Charles Brandon

Forbidden Love

Summary: Falling for Charles surprised you. The only problem? You are forbidden.

Warnings: 18+ Only, NSFW, fluff, unprotected sex (p in v), fingering, oral (f recieving)

Word count: 1.7K+

A couple of months earlier.

As your mother adjusted your corset, you let out a loud "Ow!" You saw her roll her eyes in the mirror. She believed that your complaints were excessive. "Stop being whiny." You scoffed at her comment. "No man likes that," she said to you. "There will be eligible men at the ball tonight; you won't complain; you'll just smile and dance with every man who asks. Is that clear to you?" Now it was your chance to sneer. You remarked cynically, "I can't wait.”

The layering of your dress began. Each one heavier than the last.

After you were done, you looked in the mirror at yourself. You did look stunning; the color and sequins of your dress complemented your skin tone well. Your hair fell in two halves, one flowing down your back and the other over your shoulder in divided waves.

Your mother sharply remarked, "We need to start on our way." She then approached you and took an overall glance at you. With pride, she said, "You'll find a suitor tonight." Your mother describes you as 'young and ready to be bred;' her only concern was finding you a spouse. You offered her a fraudulent smile and hoped no man would pay you any attention tonight.

Charles kept a watchful eye on every woman present in the room. He was more drawn to some ladies than others, whom he was just interested in having sex with. but none for matrimony. Until you entered his field of vision, that is. "Did you notice someone?" Charles heard Henry's question. Yes, without a doubt, was the response. He noticed your phony smile that you offer everyone in the room and how bored you appear to be when no one is looking.

“Who may she be?” Charles nodded towards you.

“That is Y/n Howard. Her father is Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk. We've spoken before; she comes across as a little pretentious.” Henry commented. That didn’t interest Charles; the only thing at the moment that interested him was meeting you. He said his farewell to Henry for the time being and made his way in your direction.

Your face was turned to the side when your mother whispered in your ear. “Be polite, Charles Brandon. The 1st Duke of Suffolk is approaching.” Breathing deeply, you forced yourself to smile as widely as possible once more. He was standing before your parents when you turned to face him.

His voice went unnoticed by you as you took him in. His hair, which lay on top of his head, was a chocolate color and was slicked back. With tiny waves begging to break free. Even though he was talking to your parents, his blue eyes were gazing at each and every inch of you.

Your eyes, which dared go further south, had a mind of their own.

For such a formal occasion, he wore black. Your eyebrows creased in confusion at that—such a depressing color, you thought to yourself.

You snapped out of your reverie as you felt your mother tug on you. Charles held out his hand to accept it. He met your hand with a kiss and remarked, "Lady y/n, it's a pleasure to meet you." A blush appeared on your face naturally. In your stomach, butterflies were circling. The way he made you feel with just his greeting was childlike.

The first man you wanted to talk to that day was Charles, but your father forbade it from happening. You weren't sure what was said, but you were upset as you watched your father and Charles leave together.

"Charles is not the man for you," your father told you as soon as he returned. “Understand that I won't let you see him." Although on the exterior you agreed with your father, you stared past him and met Charles' gaze, his eyes telling you what he couldn’t say out loud.

You two would see each other regardless.

Present Day

When you walked alone in the castle hall, Charles passed you. Your hands and his brushed against one another.

He stopped and looked around, making sure no one was around before he grabbed you and kissed you. Charles took you by surprise. When he released your lips, you laughed, and he hummed in satisfaction. “Hey, baby.”

"Hey, you." Anxiety crept in as you turned to glance around. He turned your face and tilted your chin up to look at him. He comforted you, saying, "I already checked that no one is near." That calmed you.

"Will you be stopping by this evening?" you asked. "Obviously, keep in mind that I'll knock three times." You grinned eagerly, anticipating the evening ahead.

“Now quickly give me a big kiss."

You pulled him close by putting your arms around his neck. His tongue skimmed over your lips. His tongue swirled with yours as you parted lips.

His lips were incredibly soft and full, and the kisses he gave were sweet as ever. "Gosh, you gave me something extra to look forward to tonight," he remarked, pulling himself away. Charles leaned in close to you. "I love you, and I'll see you tonight."

As soon as you heard the three knocks on your door, you sprang out of bed.

Charles smiled as he said, “I’m here, baby,” and crept into your chambers.

Taking off one article of clothing at a time, Charles began to feel more comfortable.

You were dressed in your nightgown as your long, wavy hair flowed down your back. The candles that lit your chamber appeared to heat up even more when he touched your skin. You stroked your fingertips over Charles's chest when he pulled you in for a kiss, and his chest hair easily slid between your fingers.

“You look absolutely beautiful.” Charles said this to you in awe.

His touch was gentle as he undid the tie that was in the middle of your nightgown and brought down the sleeves. Your nightgown fell to the floor, exposing your body to him. He looked at you with admiration.

Hugging you tightly, his muscular arms reached down, grasped your thighs with his large hands, and lifted you up. Charles brought you both to your bed, and once you were settled there, he started giving you gentle kisses down your throat.

His tongue swirled around your nipples, nibbling, sucking, and licking relentlessly. Your head was thrown back in pleasure while your hands were in his hair, roaming. One of his hands skimmed down your body. You felt it as two of his fingers slid through your folds. He removed his mouth from your nipples and looked to see how wet you were.

“Shit, love.” He looked at how your natural juices glowed from the candles. He brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them. “You’re so delicious, honey."

He returned his fingers to their previous place, getting them coaxed before entering two of his digits inside your cunt. “Oh,” you mewled out. He dragged his fingers agonizingly slowly in and out of you.

“Charles, faster, please," you begged him. His devious grin showed, and he picked up his pace. “Mhmm, yes. Just like that."

He saw how your expressions changed as you approached your orgasm. Charles sensed that you were about to arrive as your walls constricted around his fingertips. "My good girl, coming all over my fingers."

"Love, turn around on your stomach."

He grasped your hips to raise your ass when you were flipped over. With a bending posture, he murmured in your ear. "Keep your eyes on the mirror." He gestured to the mirror in your room's corner. "Watch as I fuck you, how I make love to your pussy."

Charles grasped his cock and slid it through your folds before he entered you, his cock stretching you. He leaned forward again and grabbed your chin to turn your head. “Look at the mirror.” His tone became more serious.

He accelerated his movements while his strong hands gripped your hips. There was a slapping sound as his testicles and hips snapped against your flesh. You sighed, "Oh my god, baby..." Your hair started to fall in front of your face and became untidy. Your neck retracted as Charles pulled on your long hair around his wrist.

His concentration was evident on his face. You could see the perspiration that had accumulated on his body thanks to the candles that lit your chamber. He put his hand up in the air and smacked your cheek hard. "Ah!" You gave voice to a shriek that became a moan.

Charles could spend all of eternity watching himself enter and exit your pussy. That hardened him even more. He constantly thought about how much he loved you and that having your pussy was a plus. The only one that actually molded well with him was yours. He thought yours was made specifically for him.

He grunted between gritted teeth, "You feel so fucking good. Taking all of me." A deep groan escaped Charles's lips.

By accident, you closed your eyes because Charles was fucking you so hard. the delight possessing your body. When you opened them up again, Charles was staring at you with a lustful expression. "Baby, you look so hot," you meekly said to him. "Fucking me so so good."

His hand sneakily reached around your body and began to rub small circles on your clit. Your mouth dropped open. “Oh god.” Your fists gripped your sheets. You began to repeat ‘I love you’ at him as you felt yourself coming on his cock.

He started to shake his head. Pulling away from you, I said, "Fuck, I need to taste you." He lowered himself to his knees and started licking your come. Before he stood back up and thrust his way back into your pussy, he sucked and licked at your pussy as if you were his last meal, and he was a starving man.

Charles could feel his orgasm building. Your skin is pricked by his fingernails. As his seed filled you, he growled loudly, "Fuck." Before taking his cock out of you and letting go of your hair, he gave you a couple more slow thrusts. Afterward, he kissed your shoulder.

He stretched out on your bed and welcomed you in. You lay close to him, and he kissed your forehead and said, "Marry me.”

Taglist: @identity2212 @chloe92 @juliaorpll78 @nighttimestan @kingliam2019

#henry cavill #first post #henry cavill smut #smutty #henry cavill x reader #fluff #henry cavill fanfic #charles brandon the tudors #charles brandon #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #charles brandon romance #charles brandon x you #charles brandon x reader #charles brandon fanfiction #charles brandon forbidden love #the tudors #1st duke of suffolk

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ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist · 8 months

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🎧Elle the Space Unicorn's Masterlist🎧

Reader inserts will have no descriptors, OFCs will be black and plus-sized(unless otherwise stated). I love being able to give girls/femmes who look like me the chance to romance some of their faves.

🎧Bless my current muse...🎧

I love to write fanfiction. Right now, my main muse is Henry Cavill. But I also like some Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan characters (see below who I will write for - send prompts or requests to @ellethespaceunicorn HERE).

Masterlist is under the Cut...

Bright Like The Moon (ongoing)

Love, Napoleon (ongoing)

Scrapbook (finished)

Daddy Knows Best (possibly on hiatus)

Don't Take My Sunshine Away (possibly on hiatus)

Touch and Go (possibly ongoing)

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest (ongoing)

What Are You Doing, StepBro?

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Humphrey x Stepsister!Reader

Summary: You and Humphrey don’t have the best start, but before long you will reach an arrangement.

Hold Me Til I Scream For Air To Breathe

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sub!Clark Kent x Domme!Reader

Summary: Clark needs to give over to his submissive urges, specifically he yearns to be tied up and owned.

I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Reader

Summary: Napoleon wines and dines.

Make That Kitty Purr {DARK FIC}

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU

Summary: Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend.

Make That Kitty Purr [Director's Cut] {DARKER FIC}

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Mike x Reader, August Walker x Reader

Fandom: Hellraiser: Hellworld x Mission: Impossible - Fallout, Crossover AU

Summary: Uncle August doesn’t give a shit that you’re Mike’s girlfriend. This is the darker pre-edited version.

Some Things You Just Can’t Refuse

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader

Summary: A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Happy Birthday, Cupcake

Rating: General

Pairing: Clark Kent x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: Clark surprises you for your birthday.

Treat Me Like A Slut

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Summary: August has had enough of your antics, and you’re going to pay for it.

Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Summary: As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Don't Take Your Eyes Off It

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day, and you have a surprise for Steve!

Don't Kill My Vibe

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader

Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.

Fifteen Minutes

Character: Walter Marshall x Unnamed Black!OFC

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What Walter does with 15 minutes of his time.

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

Pairing: Syverson x Reader

Rating: Mature

Summary: When an unexpected pregnancy rocks your already uncertain world, you decide the best option is to run. Apocalypse AU.

Pretty As A Picture

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Summary: What started as a hobby day in the park turns into Lloyd Hansen showing you why taking photos of strangers is a bad idea.

Something Old, Something New

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Nick Fowler x Reader

Summary: Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.

Oxytocin

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Older!Black!Fem!OFC

Summary: At a New Year's Eve party, Ransom Drysdale's life is forever changed by a chance meeting with Ivy Kensington.

My Little Strawberry

Pairing: Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

Rating: Mature

Summary: A follow-up to Shape Up. Sy has a conversation with his baby girl while she’s still in your stomach.

Doing Something Unholy

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Reader

Summary: This is a prompt fill for some teasing of Charles Brandon and then him taking over.

Praise You

Rating: General, pure fluff

Pairing: Clark Kent x Insecure PlusSize!Reader

Summary: Clark Kent loves everything about you, especially what you think are your flaws.

Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Reader

Summary: You hate everything about Detective Walter Marshall. He feels the same about you. Now, kiss!

Shape-Up

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cpt Syverson x Black!Reader (Peaches)

Summary: Syverson and his girl, Peaches, try and trim his beard without causing a ruckus. Spoiler alert: they fail.

Follow-up to Shape-Up: My Little Strawberry

The Paganini Problem

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader

Summary: Being Sherlock’s wife proves to be difficult when a case stumps him.

Power Play: After Hours

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader

Summary: What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.

No Good Deeds

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader

Summary: Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Executive Temptation

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: CEO!August Walker x Employee!Reader

Summary: You’ve caught the eye of CEO August Walker. What happens when he asks you to go to his private office?

Walter Marshall - Hobbies

Lloyd Hansen - Family, Quirks/Hobbies, Sleep

Lloyd Hansen - What happens when reader starts dressing to match lloyd?

Walter Marshall (Night Hunter)

Geralt of Rivia (The Witcher)

Clark Kent (Man of Steel, BvS, Justice League)

Humphrey (Stardust)

Charles Brandon (The Tudors)

Mike (Hellraiser: Hellworld)

Napoleon Solo (The Man from U.N.C.L.E.)

August Walker (Mission: Impossible - Fallout)

Will Shaw (The Cold Light of Day)

Sherlock Holmes (Enola Holmes films)

Captain Syverson (Sand Castle)

Evan Marshall (Blood Creek)

Melot (Tristan and Isolde)

Thomas Apreas (Hotel Laguna)

Chas Quilter (The Inspector Lyndley Mysteries)

Stephen Colley (I Capture the Castle)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR HENRY

Lloyd Hansen (The Gray Man)

Andy Barber (Defending Jacob)

Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out)

Steve Rogers (Avengers films)

Curtis Everett (Snowpiercer)

Ari Levinson (The Red Sea Diving Resort)

Nick Gant (PUSH)

Jake Jensen (The Losers)

Frank Adler (Gifted)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR CHRIS

Bucky Barnes (Marvel)

Charles Blackwood (We Have Always Lived in the Castle)

Steve Kemp (Fresh)

Max (Sharper)

Nick Fowler (The 355)

Lee Bodecker (The Devill All The Time)

Chris (Destroyer)

Justin Capshaw (Law & Order)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR SEBASTIAN

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz, so far only these categories 😁 Let me know if you ever want to be removed!

General Fanfiction (Everything)

Henry Character Fanfiction

Chris Character Fanfiction

August Walker

Bright Like The Moon

Love, Napoleon!

Daddy Knows Best

Don't Take My Sunshine Away

The Howling in Claw Creek Forest

~Please DON'T ask me to tag you in a series that you've never 'liked' or 'reblogged'. It's just kind of rude. Also, don't ask for an ETA on the next chapter.~

*Blog Header, Cover Art for fics, Masterlist Header/MDNI 18+ Banner, Support/Reblog banner and Masterlist Dividers made by me in Canva*

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year

Note

Teasing the hell out of Charles Brandon or Henry Cavill to the point they make the reader pay😘❤️

I picked Charles Brandon because The Tudors was a whole thing for me, like I fell in love with the entire cast but also with Henry’s delicious ass. I remember the first time I saw it onscreen and just about passed out. Hims got cakes! And Charles had redeeming qualities so it was sort of easy to forgive him for being a dick. Anyways, here’s a shameless piece of smut!!

Title: Doing Something Unholy

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Reader

Fandom: The Tudors

Summary: This is a prompt fill for @thereisa8ella who wanted some teasing of Charles Brandon and then him taking over. Enjoy!

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), fingerfucking (f receiving), cock worship, orgasm denial (m receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, ball handling, choking, creampie

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

My Masterlist

You awake to sunlight streaming in through the open curtains, a heavy weight across your middle, and soft snores rumbling in your ear. The musky odor of sex still lingers in the air and its heady scent goes right to your core. Shifting to your other side, you come face to face with a still-sleeping Charles Brandon.

This man was a god, how else could he be explained? That chiseled jaw, sinister smile, eyes like the ocean…and that’s just his perfect face. Below the neck, he was just as exquisite. Abdominals like sculpted marble, legs like strong tree trunks, and a cock like a third arm. Yes, he deserves to be worshipped. But you deserve your fun too.

You press on Charles’ shoulder to get him to lie on his back, waiting until his snores return. You shift down the bedding so it just comes to his thighs and marvel at this man’s body once again. You inch closer to him, throwing a leg over his chest so your face hovers over his groin.

You lean down and kiss his hips, snaking your tongue out to taste his freckles. Using your tongue, you draw a line down his Adonis belt to where it meets his cock. You place sweet kisses along the shaft and that stirs the Duke of Suffolk. He only moves his hips slightly and groans at first, but as you take him into your mouth, he fully awakes.

“What a beautiful view, who knew the sun rose at the same time as the moon?” He punctuates his sentence with a solid grip on both your asscheeks.

Letting his hardening cock slip from your mouth, you wiggle your hips in his face. He gets the hint soon enough, his deft fingers finding your folds and getting to work. You suck him down again and his digits slip inside. Your moans guide his ministrations, his grunts and thrusts highlighting that you have him right where you want him.

You ride Charles’ fingers until you feel the familiar break in your resolve, walls fluttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. You pause in your worship of Charles’ cock but with some incentive of his hand pushing on the back of your head, you get back to work. It’s then when you get the idea to edge him, something you’ve never done with him. First time for everything, right?

You take him to the hilt, your rose brushing his hairy sac, inhaling his musk. You swallow around him in your throat while playing with his balls, all while starting to ride his fingers again. You roll his balls between your fingers, moaning around his girth to elicit vibrations. When you feel the telltale ripple in the shaft, you pull off and squeeze his base. His orgasm is effectively ruined, and he can barely move as you cum again around his fingers.

You: 2. Charles: 0.

You’re coming down from your high as Charles is landing a sharp slap to your swollen and sensitive clit. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” You don’t have time to catch yourself as he throws you across the bed and slots himself between your thighs. Charles places his hands under each knee and pushes your legs into your chest, opening you fully for his enjoyment. He’s hard enough to enter you in one swift motion, your slippery folds welcoming him into their tight heat. “Trying to tease me, were you, love?”

“I don’t…know what…you mean,” Your words are cut off by deep and sure thrusts, your inner walls thoroughly stimulated.

“Where did my good girl go? Who is this temptress who denies me her warmth?” His pupils dilated, and he looks like a feral beast, wanting to claim his prize.

“Still…here,” You moan, failing to convince him of your innocence.

“No, she’s not here,” He wraps a hand around your neck and leans down to whisper into your ear, “You’re doing so well taking my cock, but I want to try something new. And you, my little spunk dump, are gonna take it.” He leans up and kisses the tip of your nose before tightening his grip on your neck and pounding into you until your combined grunts and wet slaps of skin are all there is to hear.

He holds your gaze, even when your eyes start to lose focus. He lets go of your neck as his hips stutter in their rhythm. You gasp for air as another orgasm rocks through you. Charles follows soon after, painting your walls with his heavy spend. He collapses on your chest without pulling out, your panting breaths the only sound in the room.

He leans back to look at you, utterly spent and exhausted. He pulls himself out of you slowly, watching his load leak out of you. He slaps the head of his dick against your sore clit a few times, earning him a satisfying whimper from your lips. He runs a hand between the valley of your breasts and leans up to kiss you and nuzzle your nose.

“Am I still your good girl?” You plead, not fully wanting to forget you got the upper hand on Charles.

“Hmmmm,” He draws it out, making it seem like he is thinking hard on the matter before chucking at your pout, “Of course you are! You will be my good girl forever, don’t you worry that pretty little head.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” You breathed, feeling satisfied and happy with how you spent your morning.

A/N: First time writing for Charles Brandon, he is fun to tease! Hope you enjoyed it!

**Tag List**

@enchantedbytomandhenry

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz! 😁

#charles brandon #the tudors #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #ask reply #charles brandon x reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x you smut #charles brandon x you #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #ellethespaceunicorn prompt fill

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marveldcmistress · 2 years

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Summary: Reader is married to Charles and pregnant with her/their first child. Having heard tales from the other ladies of court about their husbands taking mistresses during their pregnancies, Reader stays up at night taking care of Charles' needs and tends to the household during the day, leaving little room for rest. When hormones and sleep-deprivation take its toll on the Reader's health, Charles finally confronts her about her once strict self-care routine he had established with her.

A/N: This is based off the post I made on here a few months ago that I decided to just write myself. You can definitely tell I rushed the ending but there’s so much more than I planned to add to it. Enjoy y’all!

Charles was sitting at his desk, returning letters of business, when a knock on his door took his focus away. At the invitation of entrance, his secretary announced his lady wife's personal maid. She seemed anxious, not quite upset but not exactly scared either. Nervous.

“What is it, Elizabeth?” he says, her anxiety setting him on edge. She, besides himself, was the person closest to you. Her job was literally to take care of you. So if she was worried, she would be worried about you. He was already protective of you, but since finding out you were bearing his son (“A mother knows, Charles. I dreamt it.”) his concern for you only grew. You were always a little clumsy, but now your equilibrium is off the bigger your belly gets, and you refuse to sit in bed all day.

(“This is my house as well, Charles. And I will be damned if I do not take care of it myself. What kind of wife would I be if I did not keep the house my husband has so graciously given me?”

He'd always roll his eyes and say “I'd give you the moon and stars if you only ask.”)

He returns his attention to the maid, if something were wrong with you or his child he would do everything in his power to save you.

“Your Grace, I believe Her Grace, my Lady Suffolk, is ill.”

“What's wrong with her?” He stands from his desk, moving past Elizabeth and out of his study. She tries to follow after him, struggling to match his long strides.

“I tried to wake her this morning to break her fast, but she complained of a headache, so I left her to sleep while going to fix her meal to bring to her. She's been so weary these past few weeks. I do see to it that she is eating properly, for the babe. But as I am not with her at night I have no knowledge of her sleeping habits. Is she getting enough rest, Your Grace?”

Her question brings him to an abrupt halt. Flashes of memories pass by his eyes. Images of you naked, full in belly and breast from his seed, passion blazing like the roaring hearth by the bed. You had both been insatiable, you from the hormones (and let's be honest, your sinfully sexy Duke) and him from complete adoration of your changed body. He was absolutely entranced, your breasts were always soft but now they were heavy with milk, the rest of your body plush with motherhood. You were glowing, a shining star in his dark world of politics and betrayal. You spend hours making love, fucking, and everything in between.

To know that he may be the reason you no longer rest brings him immense guilt. He knew you had issues sleeping before you got pregnant, and you worked so hard during the day. He constantly tried to get you to slow down, relax.

(“Charles if I am not working I will lose my wits. I promise to take care of myself, as well as you, but I must stay busy.” )

And he held you to that promise. When not at court, he kept you both on a daily routine. First with breakfast, either at the table together with servants working around you, or naked in bed with tea, basking in the morning sun. He'd never believed more in heaven than those moments with his angel. Then you would reluctantly leave each other to go to work, you to the kitchens to help prepare dinner before moving outside. You adored your gardens, ones he spent a good fortune on as your wedding present. He would go to his study or around the villages, answering letters to the King or speaking with those under his rule. He tried to be as fair of a leader as possible, having been a lowly man once. You would both break for an hour to lunch, taking a quick roll in the hay before finishing any other duties. After dinner, usually spent in your room by the fire, you take a bath together. You talk about your day, the baby, make love, then finally wash when the water has gone cold. Usually you would then fall asleep in each other's arms, but with both of your passions being so high you would still be up for hours stoking the fire.

He felt so selfish. How could he have neglected you for his own sexual gain? He should have known better, your health was vital to his child's. For the sake of his sanity, you and his child must stay healthy and safe. He rushes even faster to your chambers, worry etched all over his features. He must correct his wrongs, for his wife and heir.

You startle awake when your chamber doors burst open. You were just having a dream of Charles and your son, strolling through the spring blooms of your garden. The babe was small, clearly just born, and Charles was glowing in the sunlight. Your heart couldn't be more full of love, your husband and your child in perfect bliss. You look to the doors, wondering what kind of commotion could have taken you from such happiness. Charles is rushing at you, the crease between his brows the only thing you can decipher before he is crowding your space, hands on your back to help you sit up.

“My love? What's the matter?” you ask, reaching to smooth the wrinkles in his forehead. Blue eyes bore into yours, full of anxiety. You always loved how expressive he was, never hiding how he felt from you. When he had first proposed the offer of marriage to your father, you were afraid to end up in a love-less marriage with a stoic, stone faced husband who wouldn't give you a second glance. After getting married, Charles had put together a private dinner in your chambers, where he discussed what he wanted from this marriage, and asking of you what you expected from him.

(“I wasn't the best husband to my first wife, for which I regret. I would like to change that with you.” ) That is when you fell in love with your husband. He was the exact opposite of everything you feared you would have to endure the rest of your life.

His hands coming to cup your face brings you back to the present. “I should be asking you that, dear wife. Elizabeth said you would not rise for breakfast. Are you unwell? Is it the baby?” he asks. The words would not stop tumbling from his lips, hands caressing your body in search of anything abnormal. When he saw no physical signs around your abdomen, he looked to your face. The dark purple circles under your eyes was proof of just how exhausted you are. But you are stubborn, and while he loves that about you, it can be frustrating at times. Like right now.

“I'm fine, my love. I just required a little more sleep today, I suppose.” you mumble, putting on a bright smile for him, though it didn't reach your eyes. He knew you well enough that you were lying to him. It didn't anger him so much as just heighten his anxiety. Why would you lie to him about how you feel?

“Elizabeth said you've been lethargic.” he tries to argue. You huff, turning your face away so he doesn't see the sudden change in your demeanor. You have been more tired lately. Between growing your child, keeping the house, and trying to match your husband's stamina, there was no energy left. Each day felt like a struggle, so much to do but no motivation to do it at all.

“I'm fine, Charles. Just a headache that needed some sleep to get rid of. Nothing to fret over.” you brush off his worry, standing to move to the wardrobe to dress for the day. What you don't see though, is the way he takes in your hunched form, your adorable waddle only so cute to an extent.

“If you insist, love. Why don't you take a rest day, stay in bed? The house is already clean and I'm sure Elizabeth can handle the kitchens.” The dominant side of him wanted to demand you stay in bed, but he knows that trying to command you to do anything is futile. He had tried to command you once, and you had laughed in his face.

“I can't today. My rose bushes need trimmed, the house needs decorated for the upcoming harvest celebration, and the menus for His Majesty's visit needs prepared. I have too much to do.”

Charles stood from the bed, knowing that trying to keep in you in this room would only lead to an argument, of which you had only had two in your entirety of your marriage. The first had been a mis-communication, if you were to ask his wife. He was not in the wrong the first time. You had been at court, attending a party while the King and your husband were “working”. A wife of the visiting French Ambassador was giving your husband eyes all night, raising something from inside you that you never want to feel again: jealousy. She was a beautiful woman, flawless skin and shiny, perfectly curled hair. You would have been quiet throughout the night, reminding yourself of the talk you had that night he discussed your relationship with you. You had heard of his infidelity with his first wife, he had even admitted it to you. But he had promised to be faithful to you, to never break your trust, all he had asked of you was to have faith in him. You had agreed, seeing no reason to begin your marriage with something as detrimental to it as trust issues. You had remembered that promise all night. Until she opened her mouth.

“You know, I took him from his first wife. I wonder if I could take him from his second?” she smirked behind a goblet of wine. You didn't know, but Charles had just walked up behind you, catching the very last of her statement. Your shoulders tensed, a fire lighting within you. Charles would always say there are two personalities inside of you. The quiet, obedient court mouse, who only comes out in society. And the fierce little lion out in the countryside. At court you portrayed the dutiful Duchess so well, he thought you were a different person when he finally got you home.

“Madame. I believe the man you met long ago is no longer the man you see now. But if you so wish to test my assumptions, please feel free to do so. Though I warn you, I don't like my judgment being challenged in such a way. So seduce my husband. I dare you.” you growled the last words, catching the attention of the King. Henry had adored you, admired the fire in your spirit when he visited you at Suffolk Manor, witnessing you putting Charles in his place in such an elegant way. Two pairs of blue eyes watched the interaction, fully prepared to defend you if need be. They both knew you could handle yourself, but with this being a treaty meeting between the French and English, they had to keep it from escalating to the point of another war.

“Mademoiselle,-”

“You may address me as Her Grace, or My Lady Suffolk. The man you knew before was of no title. MY HUSBAND, of whom you speak now, is a Duke. YOU, madame, are below us in class, therefore may not speak to us any way you so choose. Remember your place in this court, and remember mine.” with that you excused yourself from the table, not waiting for Henry's permission, leaving the dining hall and going towards the gardens, Elizabeth quickly following after. Charles turned to the King, gaining a quick nod before chasing after you. He got to the entry way to the garden when he spotted Elizabeth sat at the bench at the entrance of the hedge maze.

“She's in there, muttering to herself.” she nods to the maize. He runs in, and after about a minute of walking finds you pacing back and forth, mumbles spilling from your lips and hands flailing at your sides. He had never seen you so irate. The red in your cheeks and chest was so cute. He just wanted to eat you up, until you turned those fiery eyes on him.

“I can't believe you would sleep with a woman like that.” And for an hour he got a tongue lashing he hasn't had since he was child being scolded by his mother. You ripped into him, so much so that he got defensive. Before you knew it you were in each other's faces, voices loud enough you're sure the whole party heard. It was only when you both stopped to take a breath did you finally pay attention to the tension between you, when he grabbed you by the face and kissed you fiercely. That was the night your son was conceived.

The second argument he would admit was his fault. Henry had come to visit, seeking some isolation around company he could trust. And he had perfect timing, you had just found out you were pregnant. It was a joyous day when you told your King he would be the Godfather. Charles and you had discussed it to the fullest extent when the physicians and handmaid told you. If anything were to happen to you, either of you, your son would become the ward of the King. It would ensure he would have a proper education and keep the title of Duke of Suffolk. Everything Charles would have wanted for his children would still come to fruition. Henry demanded to celebrate, calling for wine and ale and food. You had eaten your fill, and as the night grew later, you got more tired. Charles promised to come to bed not much longer after, to which you told him you would wait for him. The maids had helped you dress and prepare for bed, giving anxious glances to you between dresses.

“You both have something you want to say, so please. Do not feel like you must tread carefully around me.”

“We all love His Majesty, as well as His Grace.” Elizabeth starts.

“And we know how happy you are, in this marriage.” Mary, the other maid, starts.

“But?” you ask.

“Well, as you know I came from court, Your Grace.” Mary continues.

“Yes, I remember. What about it?” you ask, slowly starting to get frustrated that no one is telling you anything important.

“Well, it was rumored that when Anne Boleyn was with child, His Majesty took a mistress. Most men of court do, when their wives get pregnant.” you tense in your seat. Your emotions had been almost uncontrollable since conceiving, and the ladies at your side bringing up one of your biggest insecurities was not something you wanted to deal with right now.

You dismissed the ladies, deciding to sit by the fire to wait for Charles to come to bed. You had heard the rumors of court. They were correct, most men at court took to adultery when they found out their wives were having a child. Some used the excuse that their wives were too tired to fulfill their duties. Some had said they did not find her attractive anymore. One had even admitted he never wanted the woman in the first place, but laid with her to produce an heir. You knew Charles loved you, it showed in everything he did for you. Keeping you fed with the best diet, clothed with the finest silks, and satisfied in the bedroom. But if you could no longer provide for his sexual appetite, would he look for someone else?

You waited for hours in the chair by the fire before finally deciding to lay down in your bed, on the edge of your side so as not give the impression you wanted to talk. You had been up all night panicking over your insecurities, and Charles had taken hours to come back to bed. Eventually, you drifted to sleep, only to be wakened by your husband stumbling drunk into your chambers. Your father had been a violent drunk in your teen years and you had prayed you would not land the same fate with your husband.

“MY WIFE!! MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE, WHO WILL BE CARRYING MY SON!!!” Charles shouted, startling you. He was too drunk to notice, falling at your feet unceremoniously. You watched, waiting for him to start yelling again, but there was silence for a moment, before quiet snores emitted from your lap. You look down at your sleeping husband, already starting to drool on your night gown. Confused, you tried to gently move him off of you, only failing at doing so and watching as he drops his torso to the floor, hearing a loud thunk as his skull hit the wood. You tense, waiting for him to wake up and start yelling, only relaxing when he remains asleep. Huffing, you proceed to the door to bring in the guards to help heave Charles into the bed. Once they're dismissed, you pull off his boots but leave him dressed, deciding to be the caring wife and heading to the kitchens for water and food. Your man was going to have one hell of a hangover. But at least he was a happy drunk. You could live with that. Until you saw the mess that was your dining hall.

Charles woke that next morning with a pounding head, and a very pissed off wife staring him down like the devil himself.

“I do not mind you having a bit of fun, getting drunk and celebrating our child. But if my dining hall ever, EVER looks like that again, I swear you will never get this cunt again. Understood?” He simply nodded, already going through the many ways he could make it up to you. Even His Majesty had gotten an earful, of course much more respectfully. The King had paid for the whole house to be refurnished, along with an entirely remodeled nursery for his nephew.

Charles smiles at both memories. Even the rough times were bliss with you. He knows this instance will be mild as well, once he gets to the root of it. He watches you dress and style your hair, catching your eyes in the mirror when you look back at him.

“You don't have to hover all day, Charles, you can go back to work.” You say. His stare un-nerved you, like he was trying to read your mind. He didn't need to know that you had purposefully been feeding his appetite multiple times a night to keep him from finding a mistress. If you kept him satisfied, he should have no need to wonder. It was exhausting, but if that's what it took to keep him faithful to you...

When you're finished dressing for the day, he follows you out of the room, arm around your waist, keeping you close to his side. This, you will not fight. You love being close to him, being wrapped in his warmth and his smell. He escorts you to the kitchens, setting you at a stool and telling you to stay. You watch him gather bread, meat, cheese, and some wine before taking your hand again and leading you out of the house.

“Charles, I really do have chores to be doing.” you say.

“That's why we are having lunch in the garden today. You slept late, so we will eat where you are closest to your first chore.” he states simply. You cannot fault his logic, so you follow him to the tree you both like to sit under. He sets down your lunch before taking off his coat for you to sit on. He helps you down, knowing that you were much clumsier the bigger you get. Once he knows you're settled, he drops himself beside you, pulling you into his side. You melt into him, finding the peace he so happily brings you.

“I know you said you have much to do, but I beg of you, my love, please don't strain yourself too much today. The festival is weeks away and the King doesn't visit for another month. There is still time for planning both.” he mumbles into your ear. You know he is right, harvest was still three weeks away and the King doesn't care about the menu, just as long as he eats.

“I suppose I can focus on resting, but it will not be confined to that bed, Charles. I want to roam, perhaps stay outside and soak up the sun.”

“That is all I ask.” he kisses your forehead before reaching for your lunch and starts feeding you by his own hand. You relish these sweet moments with him. When you both must go to court, he is usually so busy during the day that you get no time to see each other. When he must go away without you, you roam the halls at night praying for a wink of sleep.

You ate and drank for another hour before parting ways. As promised, you stayed in the garden, tending to your flowers and fountains. Charles kept an eye on you through the window of his study. He had the gardens constructed there for that specific purpose. He finished just as the sun was starting to set, having seen you come back only an hour earlier. He knew you were making sure dinner was being prepped to your cravings. You had been demanding meat lately, his hunters and farmers doing their best to keep up. You had apologized profusely when last speaking to the butcher.

“My wife was the same with our boys, give my congratulations to His Grace on his son.”

At nights you had been craving fruit, nudging him awake to fetch strawberries and grapes. He always went happily, even going so far as to start bringing them to the room before you went to bed every night. He'd also make sure to keep water and chamomile tea around.

After a dinner of roasted chicken (in which you ate a whole hen to yourself, he was so proud, you'd been embarrassed,) you bathe. He made sure to tell the maids to add special oils and soaps for relaxation and rest to the water. He started with a massage, going from your neck down your shoulders, before moving you and starting at your feet and ankles. They had swollen so much with each pound gained. You had started to fall asleep from his ministrations, so he quickly finished washing both of you before ushering you to the bed. He tucked you under the covers before joining you on the other side. You snuggle into his side before leaning up to give him a kiss. He kisses back, never one to deny you his affection. You try to deepen the kiss, hands running down his torso to his groin. You just passed his belly-button when he grabbed your hand and moved it back to your chest.

“Not tonight, my love.” he whispers. You recoil your hand as if burned. You don't give him a chance to speak again, rolling to face away from him and tuck the blankets around you. Charles is confused by this reaction, going to reach for you before seeing your shoulders shake.

“My love, are you crying?” he asks. You don't answer, simply moving even further away. You know it's childish, but right now you're too hurt to care. Everything you had been fearing has come to fruition. He no longer wants you, and it's only a matter of time before he finds another woman to warm his bed and wet his cock. You shrug off the hand he puts on your shoulder, and gasp when he grabs around your hips and pulls you back into him.

“Do not brush me off, my love. Tell me what is wrong.” he whispers. It was softly spoken, but a demand none the less. It was one of your own rules, to always speak when you were having an issue together.

“You don't want me.” you whine. He has to stop for a second and process what you just said.

“I'm sorry?”

“I said you don't want me anymore! You've pushed me away, and now you will go find a mistress and leave me with this child alone!” you yell. He flinches back at the volume of your voice, unsure what to do about the tears running down your face. He was never any good at comforting a crying woman, and he feared the further you get into your pregnancy the worse these outbursts will become.

“My love, where is this coming from?” his voice breaks, along with his heart. Had he done something to make you question his devotion to you? Your breaths start coming in quick rasps as you sob, and Charles quickly sits up to take action. He pulls you to his chest, commanding you to match your breathing with his.

“Breathe in, breathe out. You need to calm yourself, wife. Getting excited isn't good for the babe.”

His words resonate in your ears, and the thought of your baby calming you significantly. After a minute of calm breathing, Charles pulls away and put his hands on your cheeks, slowly lifting your face to look into your eyes.

“Tell me what is troubling my dear lady.” he says softly.

“The maids had said something to me. About what happens when a woman is with child. How husbands stop loving their wives, stop sleeping together and having sex. The man finds a mistress and leaves his wife to care for their child alone. Their marriage is over and I can't bear the thought of you never loving me.”

His cerulean eyes well with tears, they hang heavy on his thick lashes as his heart shatters in front of you. He knew these rumors were true, had witnessed the King himself doing so when Anne was pregnant. He could not condemn those men who did, for he himself had been unfaithful to his first wife. But to have his own wife believing such a thing of him ate at his pride. But before he could say something in retort, you continued speaking.

“And I know your appetite, for which I truly adore. So I force myself to try to keep you satiated, so you won't feel tempted to seek another woman. That is why I have been so tired lately.” you admit, so quietly he almost didn't hear you. At first he was angry. You were putting your health and the health of his child at risk for his sexual needs. He loves your devotion to him, but to do it at the cost of his child? But looking at the fear and anxiety in your eyes, he can't stay upset for long. He was validated in his guilt, it had been his fault that you weren't getting any rest. He made you feel like you could not say no to his advances.

“Oh god. Dear, my love, my sweet wife...” he whispers, kissing your face rapidly. You tense, confused as to what was happening. You expected him to be upset, accuse you of being insecure and crazy. You sounded crazy to your own ears now that you say it out loud. But here he is, covering your face and neck in kisses. Your eyes are wide, waiting for him to finish. He pulls back when you don't respond.

“My love. I adore you, and how you adore me. I love that you love to please me, I live to please you. You are bearing my son, the light of my life. I pushed you away tonight for your sake, so you may rest. It is time to start putting yourself first, my love. We can perform our marital duties,” he says those last two words with a smirk, “ during the day. I love you, and wish to have no other. I am more than capable of putting my needs aside so that my woman and my child remain the healthiest possible. I will seek no other woman, because I want no other woman. Do I make myself clear?” he says in a firm tone. It leaves no room for argument, yet still gentle and loving. It reassured you, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was yours. It was everything you needed, validation of your feelings and reassurance that your marriage is strong. You nod your head, putting your hands over his on your face and turning to kiss his palm.

“I love you, husband.”

“And I love you, wife. And I love my son, and any child we have after him. Now, it has been a long day, and you need your rest.”

He lays you both down, arm around your waist and hand on your burgeoning belly. He sticks his nose in your hair, both of you falling asleep contently, glowing with your love.

#charles brandon x reader #Charles Brandon #x reader #reader insert #fan fiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x reader

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lainiespicewrites · 7 months

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LainieSpice Masterlist

I wanted to compile everything because I think I'm going to start writing more!!

Captain Syverson

Oneshots:

The Christmas Cabin

The Christmas Cabin Part 2

Series:

Coach Sy Basically captain Syverson but a high school football Coach 😍

Coach Sy Ch 2

Coach Sy Ch 3

Coach Sy Ch 4

Coach Sy Ch 5

Coach Sy Ch 6

Electric summer: Sy and his old summer camp love reunite when they come back to camp as counselors!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Walter Marshall

Series:

I just want to feel safe

Part 1

Part 2

Henry

Oneshots:

Someone to take her home

A lesson in flirting

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witchersmistress · 10 months

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Library Aftermath

Hello my darlings!! as promised to @livesinfantasyland here is how he reacted.. i do not plan on adding this to an on going series list at this moment

Trigger warnings: None, fluff

Word count:1.4K

It’s been a few days since Evelyn came home in the middle of the night, practically morning, smiling with triumph and saying she had a plan. There was something haunted in her eyes that night, like whatever she had to do to get this plan in place cost her something, but apparently it was worth it. I asked her then what the plan was, but she told me she’d tell us in the morning, making me wait and grinning when I seemed pissed off about it. I watched her go up the stairs to her room with a bad feeling in my chest. She laid it all out for us the next day.

How she met one of the hookers from the red light district and talked to her. How Charles has a fucking assault fetish and likes to make the girls he hires act it out. Just when I thought it wasn’t possible for me to hate that piece of shit more. It all comes together when Evelyn explains it. All she has to do is wait for this girl to call her, and then she’ll move in and do what she does best. What she’s been working toward all this time. She’ll take out the last fucker on the list. But this isn’t like before, when she was going to shoot Charles from across the street and be gone before anyone realized what happened.

This is different. She’ll be in the middle of it all. Right there, pretending to be some fucking helpless hooker for him to take advantage of. It’s sick, just like Charles himself, and just thinking about it makes me grind my teeth in irritation. But of course, Evelyn doesn’t give a shit. She’s focused on the fact that this plan will work, and it’s the best shot she has. I know she wants him dead, more than she wants anything else, apparently, but it’s still a bad plan. I didn’t like her plan when she first told it to us, and I don’t like it now. In fact, I fucking hate it. I hate pretty much everything about this, starting with the night she killed someone outside our club. She’s in our lives now. Deep in. Way too deep for only having been here a short while. Little signs of her are everywhere in the house. A bra slung over the back of a chair, a bottle of nail polish on the table, her brand of cigarettes on the counter.

I can’t help but think about Walter’s warnings that first night, how we should just kill her and be done with it because she’s only going to bring trouble. He wasn’t wrong. She’s wormed her way into our lives and our home and our routines. At some point, I stopped thinking of the room she sleeps in as the guest room and started calling it her room. Like she lives here and isn’t just staying so we can keep an eye on her. Syverson and Napoleon both pant after her like horny dogs, even Walter seems to have made some kind of peace with her, and I… I wander into the library, unable to forget fucking Evelyn in here. I think about how she worked herself back, taking every violent thrust with pleasure, demanding more all at the same time. She riled me up to a breaking point and then handled it completely when I unleashed on her. I’m sure a lot of people would think it’s weird for there to be a full library in a house like this. They’d probably think the same thing about Walter’s piano.

But this is where I come to settle my mind when my demons scream too loudly. It’s peaceful and it’s mine. My father was a piece of shit who mocked me for not learning how to read for a long time, so I’ve made it a point to read everything I can since I learned. I find old books, the classics that all the stuffy intellectuals say you have to read if you want to be anybody, and I read them. I keep them, along with the notes I make in the margins. Like proof that I can do whatever the fuck I set my mind to without approval from anyone else. Nothing can hold me back. I walk along the shelves, trailing my fingers over the place where Evelyn had her hands while I fucked her from behind. She wanted to touch herself, but I wouldn’t let her, keeping her hands right there, making her take it at my pace. Just thinking about it makes my cock perk up, and I can feel myself getting hard. I pick up one of the books from the shelf. Heart of Darkness. Appropriate. I open it and go to flip through it, but the pages don’t fan open the way they should. A bunch of them are stuck together, hard at the edges and unable to be pulled apart. I narrow my eyes and put it back, picking up another one. It has the same issue. My jaw clenches with anger. Evelyn is in the living room, watching Napoleon and Syverson beat the shit out of each other in a video game, and I march in, holding the book in my hand. “What the fuck happened?” I snap, my voice cutting through the sound of video game violence and Syverson laughing. Evelyn looks up, confused at first, but then she sees the book in my hand and bursts out laughing. Her blue eyes are bright, and she runs fingers through her shiny silver hair like she couldn’t give less of a shit. “I don’t know, Gus,” she says, shrugging. “But it really isn’t a good idea to smear cum all over the pages of books. They’ll just stick together. Didn’t you learn that lesson with porno magazines when you were younger?” I see red at her nonchalant expression. “I didn’t fucking smear cum on them,” I growl. Napoleon and Syverson are still in the middle of their game, but I can tell they’re listening. Syverson’s laughter might be about how his character just ripped the spine out of Napoleon’s character and beat him half to death with it or because of me talking about jizz on the pages of my books. Either way, it just pisses me off more. It’s like it’s a game to them.

Like this isn’t our lives this woman has marched herself into and started fucking with. She’s here, like she owns the place, making herself at home and fucking things up. Of course they both love it. Syverson is a sucker for chaos. Anything new and different and exciting. Plus, Evelyn seems to understand him in a fucked up way. He wouldn’t spend so much time around her if she didn’t. Napoleon just wants to fuck her, and he probably has already. She’s the type to get him excited, and he also likes when things are happening. Especially things that involve a pretty girl. Both of them are missing the point—that she’ll be gone soon enough, and all the shit she fucked up will have to try to get back to normal. If that’s even possible.

I stand in the middle of the living room glaring at her, feeling like I’m the only one who gets it. Mad at her for fucking with my shit, for being so damn compelling. I want her to kill Charles so she can get the fuck out of our lives already, even though I know it won’t be that easy. Nothing’s ever that fucking easy. Her grin just goes wider as she glances down at the book in my hand. “Oh, yeah. That was me.” Anger rises in me. I’m pissed as fuck. She’s grinning like she doesn’t have a care in the world, like it doesn’t faze her that she fucked with my stuff. I stride toward her, prepared to yank her up, bend her over my knee and punish her if I have to, but her phone rings before I reach her. She rolls her eyes at me and pulls it out of her pocket, answering it as soon as she sees the name on the screen. Her face goes serious in an instant, all traces of humor falling away. She gets up from the couch, moving over to a corner to talk in a hushed conversation.

I hear her say “Are you sure?” and “Okay,” and “Don’t worry. I’ll be there.” Everyone in the room stops, looking at her while she talks. Syverson has stopped laughing, and Napoleon isn’t grinning anymore. The atmosphere in the room has completely changed. I forget all about the books, waiting to hear the verdict. Finally, she hangs up and turns to look at all of us. “That was Avalon,” she says. “Charles put in a request for a girl, and Avalon volunteered to do it for the night. It's time to go.”

#august walker #henry cavill x you #august walker fanfic #august walker fanfiction #henry cavill characters #august walker imagines #henry cavill #henry cavill thirst #henry cavill imagine #captain syverson #napoleon solo #charles brandon

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poledancingdinos · 1 year

Text

Substitute Brandon Series Masterlist

Pairing: Charles Brandon x OFC (Emily)

General Content Warnings: Angst, Smut, Unplanned Pregnancy, Abortion, Forbidden Love

Summary: A story about forbidden love, a sneaky one night stand, broken hearts, and maybe, just maybe, second chances...

Substitute Brandon

This is a Uni Party

Shattered

Second Chance

#story masterlist #charles brandon #charles brandon fic #charles brandon fanfic #charles brandon fanfiction #henry cavill #duke of suffolk #the tudors fanfic #modern au

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mary-ann84 · 10 months

Text

Hi everyone

I have been only lurking, reblogging. Responding the best I can.

Have been dealing with a Burn Out since the end of last September. And during that time my sister father inlaw passed away unexpectedly. And my grandmother passed away a few days before her 100th birthday.

It has been a physical and mental rollercoaster to say the leadt so I was not able to write.

But I am so much better then were I was. I have come a very long way. Crawling back up. Having patience is the key wich is sometimes easier said then done.

I have more good days then not so good ones. And I have to keep in mind to keep balance. Wich is hard when you have lots of energy and you feel like you can do a lot.

Also slowly going back into work.

So patience, balance, letting shit go and putting myself first is what I am learning / doing.

I am slowly getting backing into writing

But I need to update my taglist, because I have a feeling there are some people that are on that list who are not on tumblr anymore.

Also maybe you would want to be taken or added.

Now I know Dumblr is a champion at letting people know they have been tagged 2 or 3 years later, but I am hoping people will get this.

Also I was wondering if there is a person or peolpe that would like to beta read my work, because my burn out brain can mis a few things 🙈.

So send me a message if you want to stay, added or removed let me know.

If you are like eehm I thought I was already on there then let me know to.

And if you are like who do you write for and what have you written? Then check out my masterlist.

And lastly to the people who have tagged me, send requests or an ask. Know that I have seen you. I will get to the asks request in due time. To my fellow writers who have tagged me. I have a reading list that I am also getting to.

Just taking my time 😊

Love you ❤️

@littlefreya @wendimydarling @hell1129-blog @b-n-a-o @cheyentjj @yespolkadotkitty @yoursecretsmutblog @obsessedwithcavill @penwieldingdreamer @peakygroupie @viking-raider @brexrif @sciapod @oddsnendsfanfics @la-vie-en-diva @thethirstyarchive @constip8merm8 @henrysrighteyebrow @chamomilebottom @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @mylittlepartofthegalaxy @meowpurrbooks @jolly-polly @auguswalker @allememaggies @mayastormborn @princess-of-riviaa @ellixthea @demivampirew @deathonyourtongue @dearlybelovedluke @luclittlepond @captainsy-cookiemonster @zealoushound @oh-for-fic-sake @sillyrabbit81 @pussyverson @angryschnauzer @the-soot-sprite @mariestark @foodieforthoughts @thelastsock @llamadelreyx @infinite-shite @shellbilee @agniavateira @luna-aestas @sissyfanfiction @lauofrivia @lifeofrileyp

#back again #taglist #henry cavill fanfic #geraltofrivia #august walker #walter marshall #captain syverson #sherlock holmes #charles brandon #napoleon solo

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norabrice1701 · 9 months

Text

The Duke & The Witch

Series Main List - Complete

Charles Brandon x Fem!OC, A The Tudors Slight AU fic

Summary: Today should mark two years of wedded bliss. Instead, Charles Brandon only has the memory of his beloved Catherine dying in childbirth and the haunting peace of his stillborn son’s face for company. But the foremost swordsmith in his duchy has promised his newest commission would be ready today, so Charles does his best to summon a sociable mood.

The last thing he expects to hear in the town of Ipswich is another fantastical tale about the witch in the woods.

Warnings: Explicit 18+ NSFW smut (including unprotected sexual intercourse); explicit language; torture (whipping); period-typical attitudes towards everything (women, religion, witchcraft, etc.); father-daughter sexual relationship (one-sided); involuntary body mutilation (wrists & ankles); fantastical squinty science/alchemy; non-graphic torture (pleasure as pain)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8 - Pt. I

Chapter 8 - Pt. II

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

Series Word Count: 49k+

A/N: Well, hopefully better late than never with this one - but I've always had a soft spot for Charles Brandon ❤ Hope y'all enjoy, and all my heartfelt thanks to @sunangelflowers for her willingness to beta this tale!

#charles brandon #duke of suffolk #the tudors #henry cavill #charles brandon x ofc #henry cavill x ofc #the tudors fanfic

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year

Text

Part 17 - Definitions

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 16 -- Part 18

Summary: A very important house meeting at 179th Crescent Street

Warnings: None! (Although this chapter does feature small people rage)

Word count: 3k

A/N: So this is a little different, I guess? Anyway... It's out there now. PSA: The 'wokeness' only goes so far as I reasonably assumed from a bunch of horny college dudes, okay?

@deandoesthingstome @geralts-yenn @summersong69 @peaches1958 @fvckinghenrycavill @keanureevesisbae

"Alright, mother Leon, you have the floor," Charles said as he lifted a beer to his lips.

"Mike isn't here yet, should we wait?" Leon asked - they always asked. The reaction was no different this time than all the other times: laughter.

"He'll get here when he gets here," Marshall said. They weren't mad about it - genuinely. Mike knew he was like this, he never asked them to wait, and he usually accepted whatever decision was made for the house in his absence.

"On to our first - incredibly important - order of business." Leon's tone was such that Sherlock already sank back in his chair, looking embarrassed. "Sherlock, she stayed the night. Is the bet settled?"

"Leon," Geralt warned.

"I know you're in on that bet, Geralt, don't bother pretending," Sherlock muttered.

"Oh, I'm not referring to the fact he brought it up," Geralt stated point blank, "he was just planning on being a dick about it. He shouldn't." His next glance in Leon's - and Charles' - direction was a warning shot.

"Ah," Sherlock replied, "well. In any case, I don't know if it's settled. Personally, I find myself hung up on definitions."

"'Are you still a virgin?' sounds simple enough, right?" Sy asked, looking amused and confused at the same time.

"On the surface, yes," Sherlock mused. In between sentences he wondered why it was so difficult for him to discuss the emotional side of these things, yet so incredibly simple to argue the semantics. Geralt looked amused by the turn this conversation was taking, as did Marshall and August. "I simply cannot accept the definition of the word 'virgin' as 'someone who has not had sex'."

"Well, what's the problem, then?" Charles demanded.

"The first problem with it would be the definition of the word 'sex'."

"Aren't you supposed to be the smart one?" Charles scoffed.

"That might just be why I've come to the conclusions I have come to, and you haven't." It wasn’t much like Sherlock to say things like that, but the others had noticed the growing animosity between him and Charles, and they’d all been waiting for it to come to a head.

"Are you calling me daft, Holmes?"

"I'm surprised you managed to work that out, Brandon." That was certainly enough to piss off Charles - thoroughly. He opened his mouth to say something when August put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm going to recommend backing off, Charles," he said with a smirk on his face that clearly showed he was impressed with Sherlock, "when it comes to a battle of wits, Sherlock has all of us outgunned." Sherlock nodded at him, appreciative of the acknowledgment - and the help in keeping Charles' fists away from his face. Charles didn't have a terrible temper, but he was generally a sore loser, which made him unpredictable at times.

"The question?" Leon said to bring them back to the conversation.

"Right," Charles said, "the widely accepted definition would be... How do I put this?" They all knew what he meant, but this was a particularly uncomfortable one to say out loud. You bet they were going to make him. They waited nearly half a minute before Geralt had had enough.

"For god's sake, man, are you twelve? The widely accepted definition would be 'penis in vagina'. That's what you're trying to say, right?"

"Yes," Charles answered curtly.

"I don't think I agree with that definition, either." Sherlock said.

"You can't just disagree with definitions because they don't suit you, Holmes."

"I disagree with them because they make no sense, Solo."

"I have to say I'm with Sherlock on this one," August said. Marshall and Geralt nodded in agreement. Charles, Leon and Sy formed the other side.

"Sorry I'm late!" Mike stepped into the kitchen with his coat still on.

"Perfect timing. We're in need of a tie-breaker," Marshall said. "What's sex?"

"I feel someone should have told you that by now, Marshall..."

"Very funny, we're serious. It's a fifty-fifty split on the…” Now it was Marshall’s turn to feel flustered over having to say that. Luckily, Geralt wasn’t prepared to wait around for another thirty seconds, and offered up the same description he had before.

“Yeah, well… that,” Marshall continued, “versus 'not quite sure, but not just that', what do you say?"

"I say; give a man some time to step inside the goddamn house before hitting him with your little existential crisis."

"Mike," August laughed, "answer the damn question."

"I'm with the side that says dicking a girl down isn't all there is to it."

"Subtle," Marshall said. Apart from the obvious amusement at his wording, most people seemed surprised at the side Mike chose in the debate.

"Always," Mike replied with a big smile. "Besides, because I see you guys looking surprised, it's literally called 'oral sex'. I feel that that should say something."

"Thank you, Mike." Sherlock grinned.

"Alright, but I'm gonna need a better argument. Exactly how does the traditional definition not make sense?" Sy weighed in.

"I don't need to convince you," Sherlock said.

"Let's make it interesting," Charles chimed in, "sway any of us three, you win the bet yourself?" He looked at the others, who all agreed to the idea. Sherlock needed to consider it only for a moment. With the seven of them in on it, that was quite a bit of money.

"Alright, first off, by that definition, lesbians can't have sex. Typically. Neither can gay men. Again, typically."

"Correct," Charles replied, "but has it somehow escaped your attention that you are neither a gay man nor a lesbian?"

"It hasn't, thank you for your concern, but the fact of the matter is that the definition of ‘sex’ we have established as ‘widely accepted’ functions only where heterosexual relationships are concerned. Now I would personally find it preposterous to propose that physical intimacy can only be considered sex in situations involving a cisgender woman and a cisgender man, and to suggest that any physical intimacy that does not fit the aforementioned heteronormative definition is a ‘different kind’ of sex would be a particularly outdated take on the matter.

“If one wishes so desperately to warp the definition of sex in such a way that it encompasses all kinds of physical intimacy that could possibly be defined as sex, in any and all possible configurations of relationships, it quickly becomes a matter of where you draw the line. The argument of oral sex that Mike pointed out earlier, really makes itself. And even then, why would that be the threshold?

"And lastly I..." There was a short silence as Sherlock tried to come up with the words he needed to express the thought he was having.

"Please keep talking, before one of them opens their mouth," August said. Much like Geralt, he'd been enjoying watching Charles and Leon get obliterated by Sherlock's solid logic.

"I refuse to think of the things that don't fit the traditional definition of the word as 'other' or 'less than', because it would discredit the experience and everything surrounding it, and I cannot bring myself to do that." His voice was soft as he said it, and he couldn't seem to peel his gaze away from his hands, which rested in his lap. He noticed his fingers trembled slightly, though he couldn’t say he was so nervous that it was to be expected.

“All things considered, one might come to the conclusion that there is something inherently flawed about any concept that depends so heavily on the definition of something that is so exceptionally difficult to define.”

"So," Leon asked curiously, "what definitions would you suggest, instead?"

"None. I would sooner come to the conclusion that the concept of virginity is, to put it plainly - and pardon my French - fucking ridiculous, completely unnecessary and nothing other than a falsely attributed currency of virtue used as a tool to impose outdated patriarchal values and the notion of commodity on women while simultaneously serving to emasculate and ridicule men who haven't rid themselves of it soon enough by anyone's personal and completely arbitrary standards. As for the definition of sex… I genuinely don’t think I care."

"Hand the man his money," Sy said with a sigh. Napoleon pulled the cash out of his wallet and tossed it on the table while grinning widely.

Charles shook his head in disbelief. “Bastard,” he muttered under his breath. The look on his face clearly showed he was impressed.

“Charles, I’d like for you to take a moment to consider the following: In what universe was it a good idea to make a bet that depends heavily on the other person’s ability to present a logical argument,” August said, “with the genius law and philosophy student?” His tone was amused and only slightly derisive.

“Now that this is settled,” Napoleon continued, “we have serious matters to discu-” He was interrupted by the door opening and a whole lot of noise in the hall.

“What are the girls doing here?” Charles asked.

“We were already here.” Elena appeared in the doorway. “Because, as Leon so kindly pointed out, I did spend the night here. Nice speech, by the way, Sherlock.” She walked around the table and stood next to him, an arm around her shoulder. To her surprise - and perhaps everyone else’s - he pulled her into his lap.

“And so did we.” Anjelica looked over her shoulder to Danielle and Solveig, who were laughing about a joke she hadn’t heard. “We went out to get some groceries.”

‘Some groceries’ was apparently a new way to describe three whole bags, completely full of food.

“Do we have rabbits I don’t know about?” Mike ducked when he saw Marshall’s hand swinging for the back of his head, only to get hit by Geralt when he came back up. “Guys, come on, that’s more vegetables than we’ve seen in this house in at least a year!”

“The three of us,” Solveig gestured to Ange, Dani and herself, “talked about cooking for our guys yesterday, so we asked Elena to join, and she was on board.”

“But we figured we couldn’t punish the rest of the house for being single, so we’ll feed all of you, if you ask nicely.” Dani leaned her head against Charles’ shoulder and then gave him a sweet smile. He shot a suggestive look in Mike’s direction just to get a rise out of him, but Mikey was Mikey, and therefore wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings at all. Not the part he should have been paying attention to, at least.

“Free food, and I don’t gotta make it?” Sy said with a massive grin on his face. “Count me in!” The other three didn’t complain, either.

Leon called for everyone’s attention again, and this time he wasn’t interrupted by everyone and everything, which was nice. The plan itself was simple: New Year’s party.

“You’re not planning a party two days in advance?” Dani looked like her head was going to explode. That was just not possible… The other girls seemed to agree.

“Worry not, ladies,” Charles interrupted. He put an arm around Solveig’s shoulder, but a simple look from Geralt told him that if he wanted to keep all the equipment he planned on using during that party he was planning, he’d better stop touching his girl. Charles and Leon talked everyone through the plans they’d been making for weeks. As it turns out, the girls didn’t know about this thing, because the guys had just not told them. Mike couldn’t use the others’ excuse that it didn’t come up, and had to go with the truth that he’d simply forgotten to mention it when he and Dani had discussed it. Luckily, Sloane and Ari were on board - especially now that the guys they’d been going out with had made different plans, involving different girls. Even through text, Slo couldn’t exactly hide her excitement about the fact that she was: A. Finally getting to meet Mike, whom Dani had hidden from them purposely and quite successfully, and B. getting to meet the others in the house, first and foremost: Sy.

The girls chased everyone out of the kitchen when it was a little past two. Cooking for a grand total of twelve people was a massive chore in and of itself, that always took longer than initially expected, and some of these guys got serious attitudes when they weren’t properly fed on time. And ‘some of these guys’ could definitely be interpreted as ‘all of them’. They figured it was probably best to start early.

“Geralt, if you do not get out of this kitchen at once, I’m not responsible for what happens!” It was a very intimidating thing to hear from the nearly 6ft. tall Scandinavian, especially since she was holding a very sharp knife.

“Just came to check on you,” Geralt said. He was actually brave enough to walk up to her and wrap his arms around her. “If now were the time for jokes, I’d say something about your cooking skills making you wife material.”

“Ah, I see,” Sol snapped, “and in response to that, I wouldn’t laugh, and I’d tell you to cook for me sometime. So I can see if you’re husband material. Now, get out.”

“Do I need to fetch you some painkillers?” She responded with a nod and a ‘yes’ in the softest voice.

“There’s some in my bag,” Ange said, saving Geralt a trip upstairs before kicking him out of the kitchen herself. They continued working on dinner, hoping none of the other guys would decide to come sneak a peek at dinner.

"Period?" Elena asked Sol casually while cutting a whole load of tomatoes. Mike could just about have been right when he made his rabbit joke.

"From hell," Sol confirmed as she took the pills from Ange, "and he always knows, and he's so sweet about it, but I just yell at him."

"Blowjobs make for fantastic apologies," Ange said and both she and Sol laughed.

"Now I feel sad Dani has nothing to apologize for." It was Mikey's signature tone, the one where you could just hear the grin seeping through.

“Mike! Leave!” Anjelica was scary - all 4’11” of her.

"Drink and hug, then I'm gone," he said as he wrapped his arms around Dani, who had been tasked with peeling and mincing enough garlic to fend off a small army of vampires.

"Hi," Dani said before turning her head for a quick kiss, "go grab a drink." She really wanted to finish this task with the same amount of fingers she'd started with.

"Thank you," Mike said suddenly, "I've never had a girlfriend cook for me before. It's nice." He grabbed a beer from the fridge and disappeared.

"He is so cute," Elena said.

"Hey!" Of course Sherlock walked in at exactly that moment. Ange was just about boiling over with rage at this point.

"Out! Holmes, get out! God is there no place where a couple of girls can talk without being interrupted every twenty-five seconds?"

"I thin women fought long and hard for years just to make it so that the kitchen was no longer that place," August answered as he stepped into the kitchen. Funnily enough, Anjelica's anger disappeared miraculously.

"Hey baby," she said with a sweet smile as August walked over to her.

"Aren't you supposed to try and scare me out of your kitchen?" He sounded amused, which was an interesting new mood for most of the girls to experience.

"August, darling," Anjelica said sweetly, "did I mention I used the money my parents gave me for Christmas to treat myself to a new set of lingerie?" Sherlock almost choked on the piece of bell pepper he had stolen from the container next to Elena's cutting board, which caused her to elbow him in the ribs.

"You didn't," August answered, clearly not liking where this was going.

"Well you won't get to see it if you don't fuck off."

"Simple but effective," August said before giving her a quick kiss and walking away.

"If all of you don't fuck off, August."

"Holmes get the fuck out of that kitchen," August yelled, and then he turned his attention to Sy, who was apparently also on his way to the kitchen: "Syverson, don't even think about it." The boys laughed - and so did the girls.

"We need a girl's night," Dani said impulsively. She shocked herself; she wasn't usually so outgoing, and she was very glad that the others were quick to agree.

"I live with mostly guys, and three of them are on teams with guys from here," Ange said, "my place is out."

"I couldn't fit all of us in my room if I tried," Elena added.

"I don't even have the keys to my place yet," Sol said with a smile. Something told the others that she would be a bit uncomfortable having the three of them over, too. Not that the others were any better acquainted.

"Well, Ari and Slo wouldn't mind having everyone over at ours, and I'm pretty sure after the party we'll have intel on most of the house…" Dani grinned.

"Marshall, Leon, Charles and Sy are missing, right?" Anjelica's tone was devious. Heat rose to Dani's cheeks.

"Marshall, Leon and Charles," she corrected. The others looked at her wide-eyed.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Solveig whispered.

"I-" Dani started, but she was quickly interrupted by Charles.

"OUT!" All four of them yelled at the same time, which had the desired effect and terrified Charles as a lovely bonus.

"I'm making a group chat now," Anjelica said with another curious glance in Dani's direction, "girl's night is on."

#henry cavill #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill characters #august walker #geralt of rivia #napoleon solo #charles brandon #sherlock holmes #henry cavill sherlock holmes #mike hellraiser #captain syverson #walter marshall #geralt of rivia x OFC #mike hellraiser x ofc #august walker x ofc #henry cavill fanfiction #179 crescent street #179cs #179cs17

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