#Charles Blackwood x REader

[sweetiebarnes]

FAVORITE PLACES

Various characters and their favorite places to have sex.

Warnings: public sex, shower sex, car sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, cum kink, basically this is all filth.

A/N: Please do not report this! It's so frustrating to have things reported. If I missed any warnings you feel should be listed, please let me know. Gifs made by me. I know I didn't list all of Seb's characters, but I did some of my favorites.

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 - After being denied pleasure for many years, Bucky is desperate. He’s more than happy to have sex any place at any time. Out to dinner with friends? He doesn’t care, he’ll gladly take you in the bathroom of the restaurant. Heading to a mission? No better place than the back of the jet. He even took you in the laundry room of your parent’s house. The man is insatiable. 

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧- Carter loves the thrill of making you cum while riding the elevator. It all started when the two of you got stuck on one. He knew he needed to distract you somehow. What better way than having you cum on his cock? Now, whenever you two ride one together, he considers it a challenge to see just how fast he can make you cum.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 - Charles loves to take you apart in the back seat of his red convertible. He gets even more excited when you let him keep the top down. It’s almost like he’s determined to get caught. He craves the sound of your moans and screams. Let the townspeople hear you while his tongue is buried deep into your soaked pussy. 

𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 - The gym, of course. Lance loves to use the different gymnastics equipment to his advantage. You'd never considered yourself to be flexible. That is, until Lance came along. He causes you to bend and stretch in ways you didn't even know was possible. Whether it's bending you over the pommel horse or having you ride him on top of the mats, he always manages to give you a solid workout.

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 - Lee loves to fuck you at the station. It all started when he spotted two of his deputies staring at your ass. That afternoon he made sure they all knew who you belonged to. He bent you over his desk and pounded into you until you were screaming his name. Now anytime you bring his lunch (which happens frequently). Everyone in the station knows what’s about to happen. Lee can't help but feel smug as you walk out of his office with his cum running down your thighs.

𝐌𝐚𝐱 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 - Max craves the riches in life. He lives for the thrill. He loves to have sex in your current mark's house. Once, you were conning a millionaire. Max fucked you up against the window of the man's penthouse. He always finds a way to be a part of the con. Whether it's posing as your best friend, brother, or coworker. He doesn't care. As long he finds a way to have you.

𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 - Mickey loves to fool around inside his DJ booth. Once the club was so dark, he was able to fuck you without anyone noticing. He's constantly looking for opportunities to make it happen again. But most of the time, the two of you are only able to manage to sneak in a blow job or some fingering. It doesn't matter though, because the set is over. He'll find a place so he can be buried deep inside your pussy.

𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐫- Nick loves to take you apart in the shower. There's just something about the way the water trickles down your breasts that makes him feral. He loves the way you look with your hair soaked and the blissed-out expression on your face. Whether it's first thing in the morning or ending a long day. Nothing relaxes Nick more than a shower with you.

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐊𝐞𝐦𝐩 - Steve never expected to be able to fuck you once he put you in his basement. No, he thought once you found out the truth of everything, you’d want nothing to do with him. But that wasn’t the case at all. He quickly realizes you're just as twisted as he is. So, that's why he loves to fuck you while you're locked away. Knowing that his other victims are listening only causes him to want this more.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

hey 💗

could I please request a smut fic where charles blackwood develops a (borderline obsessive) crush on his cousins housemaid and he ends up fucking her in the shower or bath?

[ik it’s out there but I just rewatched we have always lived in the castle and just seeing seb in a fancy bathtub did things to me…ik it’s weird but still…🫶]

Cute Little Maid » Charles Blackwood

Pairings: Charles Blackwood x Maid!Reader

Summary: Charles has a crush on his cousin’s maid.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, unprotected sex, shower sex, praise kink, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 the bathtub scene did things to me too🤭

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIFS ARE NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found these on Pinterest.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Constance, I- oh, I’m sorry.” You apologized walking in the living and seen the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life. “I didn’t know you were having company today.” You say.

“It’s ok.” Constance smiles. “Y/N, this is my cousin Charles. Charles, this our maid Y/N.” She introduces you two.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Blackwood.” You smiled, shaking his hand.

“You too.” Charles smiles. “Call me Charles.” He says, shamelessly checking you out.

That was a few weeks ago. Now, Charles can’t seem to keep himself away from you. He’s developed a huge crush on you. Every time you need to go to the store, he gives you a ride. He follows you around the house and watches you clean without you noticing. He would try to get as close as he possibly could to you. He also can’t help but imagine what he wants to do to you sexually.

Charles is whistling to himself as he was walking down the hallway to his bedroom. His whistling stops when he heard a noise in his room and seen the door open. He opened the door to see you putting his neatly folded clothes in his dresser. He walked further in the room and stood a couple feet behind you, waiting for you to turn around. You jumped when you turned around, not expecting Charles to be standing behind you.

“Oh Mr. Blackwood…” You put your hand on your chest where your heart is. “You scared me.” You giggled. “Did you need something?” You asked.

“Yes, you.” Charles thinks to himself.

“I would like some extra towels please.” He says politely.

“I’ll get them right now.” You say.

You walked past him to get him extra towels while Charles went in the bathroom to take a shower. He turned the shower on and stripped himself of his clothes. You walked in the bathroom at the same time he was taking his boxers off. You gasped and closed your eyes, making Charles turn around and smirk.

“I am so sorry.” You apologized for walking in on him naked. “Here’s your extra towels.” You say, holding the towels out for him.

Charles took the towels from your hands and put them on the sink counter. You heard him close the bathroom door. Your heart started pounding when you felt his presence. Your eyes fluttered open. You tried so hard not to look down at his dick. Charles walked closer to you. You walked backwards till your back hit the door. Your breathing quickened when his face was inches away from yours. One of his hands disappeared under your dress, finding its way to your wet panties. A desperate whimper fell from your lips when his fingers rubbed your pussy through your panties. He pulled your panties down your legs and dropped them on the floor. His fingers rubbed from your clit to your entrance. He slid two fingers in your pussy, moving them at a decent pace.

“Mr. Blackwood…” You moaned softly. “This is-” The words died on your tongue before you could finish your sentence.

“This is what, sweetheart?” Charles asks, smirking.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the only thing that came out was a moan. There was nothing in your mind, except the thought of your boss’s cousin fucking you with his fingers.

Your head fell back against the door, enjoying the feeling of his fingers in your pussy. Your nails dug into the wood of the door when his fingers went impossibly deeper. Charles leaned in closer to you, kissing just below your ear, making you moan.

“I wonder what your pussy will feel like wrapped around my cock.” Charles whispers in your ear.

A whimper fell from your lips at the thought of him fucking you. His thumb found its way to your clit, applying pressure to it and rubbing it in circles. His fingers curled inside of you, hitting your sweet spot.

“Right there!” You moaned.

Charles smirks to himself, happy that he found your sweet spot. His fingers continued to hit your sweet spot every time he curled his fingers against it. This man knew what he was doing, because he was about to make you cum sooner than you expected. You pussy clenched around his fingers. Charles knew you were about to cum. He thrusted his fingers faster, wanting your orgasm to build up faster. Your mouth fell open, a moan of his name fell from your lips as you came hard on his fingers. His thumb gave your clit a particularly rough rub before he took his fingers out of your pussy.

You looked at him, trying to catch your breath. Charles’s eyes were filled with lust. He pulled your dress over your head and dropped it on the floor. His hand disappeared behind your back and expertly unclasped your bra, letting it fall from your chest. He grabbed your arm and pulled you inside of the shower with him. He pinned you against the shower wall, kissing you hungrily. You moaned against his lips.

“I’ve wanted this since the day we met.” Charles admits breathlessly against your lips.

“Oh yea?” You say.

Charles turns your body around, pushing the front of your body against the shower wall. He kisses along your shoulders, up to your neck. His teeth bit down hard enough to mark you up. You gasped when you felt his hard cock against your ass cheek. His precum smeared against your skin.

“You feel what you do to me, darling?” His voice is husky. “You make my cock so hard.” He says in almost a whisper, grinding his cock against your ass for some relief.

He wrapped his hand around his cock, pumping it a couple times before rubbing it against your pussy, his tip bumping your clit, making you moan.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you and I will.” He says huskily.

“I- oh!” You paused when his tip circled your entrance. “I want you to fuck me, Charles.” You tell him. “Make me feel so good.” You say.

“I’ll make you feel so fucking good, princess.” He says.

A gasp left your lips when Charles thrusted his whole cock in your pussy. You didn’t realize he was this big. The stretch of his cock entering your pussy hurt a little, but it also felt good. You braced yourself by putting your hands flat on the shower wall as he started thrusting. His thrusts were hard and fast, but also loving. Charles’s hands were on your hips, bringing you back with his thrusts. He looked down, watching his cock thrust in and out of your pussy, covered in your slick.

“Fuck…” Charles moans at the sight.

Your moans were like music to his ears. He wrapped one of his arms around your waist and pulled you against him, your back against the front of his body. Your head fell back against his shoulder, letting the pleasure take over your body.

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He admits.

“Mmm yea?” You hummed, your eyes fluttering shut.

“I’ve been watching you for a while.” He tells you. “You walking around the house in cute little dress. The way you bend over the kitchen table when you’re wiping it down after breakfast.” He lists off. “You make the littlest things innocent and dirty.” He breathes huskily against your skin.

You didn’t even care that he just admitted that he’s basically stalking you. Frankly, you couldn’t care less that he’s been watching you. To be honest, you like the attention he’s been giving you lately. It’s the most attention you’ve gotten in a while.

“I bet you’re enjoying this as much as me, aren’t you, honey?” He whispers huskily in your ear. “My cock deep in your pussy.” He says, kissing just below your ear.

You opened your mouth to say something, but a moan came out instead. Your mind was invaded by the dirtiest thoughts of what Charles could do to you. Pleasure taken over your body.

Charles’s free hand snaked up the front of your body, wrapping his hand around your throat, but not choking you. You let out a moan, loving the feeling of his hand on your throat. It turned you on even more. His other hand found its way to your clit, applying pressure and began rubbing it. Your pussy clenched around his cock, feeling his fingers on your clit.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned more in a whimper. “Charles…” You say breathlessly.

“Yes, sweetheart? Tell me what you want.” Charles says in almost a whisper.

“I-” You weren’t sure what you were even begging for, but all you know is that you wanted more. “More!” You finally said.

“You want more, darling?” His voice is a little raspy. “I’ll give you more.” He says.

His fingers applied more pressure to your clit as he rubbed it faster. Your clit was beginning to feel sensitive, but you didn’t really care at the moment. You just wanted to enjoy the feeling of his fingers rubbing your clit. He also sped up his thrusts. You could feel every vein of his cock rubbing along your walls.

Your legs started to shake a little due to the amount of pleasure you were receiving. You pressed your hands firmer against the shower wall to keep yourself from falling. Charles’s hand left your throat to wrap around your waist as soon as your knees buckled. His cock found your sweet spot with ease, hitting it repeatedly. That caused your orgasm to build up.

“Charles, I- mmm fuck! I’m going to cum!” You tell him. “Please let me cum!” You begged.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” He says huskily.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your toes curled against the shower floor as you came on his cock. Charles fucked you through your orgasm and gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm.

“Good girl.” Charles praises breathlessly. “Such a good girl for me.” He praises again.

He almost lost rhythm with his thrusts, but quickly regained it. A curse word left his lips as he came inside of you. His thrusts came to a slow stop. His cock stayed inside of you as the two of you caught your breath. His arm remained around your waist to hold you up. You leaned your forehead against the shower wall, enjoying the cool feeling of it against your heated skin.

“Looks like I got myself a cute little maid all to myself now.” Charles says, breaking the silence as he kissed along the skin of your shoulder.

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

-Bucky’s Doll

[nickfowlerrr]

darling, it's cold outside.

pairing: charles blackwood x curvy!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ only. cockwarming. not foot fetish stuff but he does remove her heels for her? lol. pining. little bit of holiday blues mentioned but overall this is pretty fluffy. maybe like the littlest bit soft!dark if you squint.

notes: very happy to be writing for charles again, i've missed him. 🥹

inspired by this txt post, this is one of seven characters i’m writing this prompt of sorts for. thank you in advance for reading and as always, reblogs and comments are welcome and so appreciated. ❣️

"Mr. Blackwood," you call out as you walk down the empty hallway, your heels clacking on the marble flooring as you go, "I remade the guest bedroom like you asked. If there's nothing else for tonight, I was going to be heading home?"

You look into his open office as you pass, he's not there. Curious...

You continue down the hall, peeking into the study, then the tea room, and then the living room - none of which held him. The television in the living room was on, however, so you assumed he must be close by. But where?

Normally you find it difficult to get more than a few minutes alone from him when you're working, but now the man of the house is as elusive as your holiday spirit seems to be this year.

The pitter patter of the rain outside the castle captures your attention as you pass the grand window.

"Oh no," you sigh as you peer out into the dreary scene. The Christmas lights strung up outside appear blurry through the rain droplets on the glass as the sky grows darker with each moment that passes.

You were supposed to be out of here by 3pm, but Charles, for the first time since you'd started working for him, had many a qualm about your cleaning and tidyings today. You had to go over the bathrooms twice and were instructed to remake his bed before reattending to the guest room. It was nearing 5:30 now, and the rain you were hoping to avoid has clearly already begun - and if the weatherman was correct - would be staying long through the night.

It's not a terribly long walk home, but in your uniform, having to walk home in the rain is a less than ideal situation.

But you resign yourself to your fate as you turn from the window and continue on your search for your boss.

"Mr. Blackwood," you call again, "I'm about to be heading home."

As you finish your sentence, crossing in front of the lavish cranberry colored couch, you notice the throw blanket you had folded and put away earlier is now adorning the cushions. You think to check by the linen closet on the other side of the staircase - hoping to find him somewhere over there so he may dismiss you for the night.

You are about to leave the room when suddenly you hear the kettle whistle sharply from the kitchen. Your brows knit together as you stop in your tracks and turn back around to go toward the kitchen instead.

The sound of your heels as you walk informs Charles of your presence as you enter the room. He turns from the stove, having just moved the kettle from one burner to the other, and looks surprised to see you.

"Oh," he said, nonplussed, "you're still here?" His brow was raised as he looked at you.

You felt stumped yourself, standing blankly for a moment before blinking away your confusion. "Yes, I- I just finished remaking the guest bedroom like you asked," you stammered just slightly.

"Oh, perfect. Thank you. You really are an angel, you know that?" he praised, smiling that ever charming smile at you.

You couldn't help but return one of your own, eyes flicking down almost immediately, unable to hold his gaze.

You sucked in a breath, schooling your face as you looked back up. "Did you want to check it over?"

"No," he brushed off with a shake of his head, turning back to open the cabinet behind him, "I'm sure everything is in order. I trust you."

Your lips twitch as you hold back a disbelieving laugh. He seemed so concerned earlier...

"Alright. Well, if that's everything, Mr. Blackwood-"

"Charles," he corrects.

"...Charles," you amend, "if that was all, I was planning on heading out for the night."

"Of course," he agrees, turning to face you once again, with two mugs in his hands. "Do you have time for some hot chocolate, or will your ride be here soon?"

"Oh, I don't have a ride," you hide a grimace at the reminder of your lonesomeness. Well...maybe you could call a cab? But no, that short ride would just feel like a waste of your hard earned money. And anyway, Charles knows you walk to and from. He's chided you on it before. You'll never forget the way you warmed at his concern for you that first time. He had offered you a ride home, but you refused. It was a clear evening and there really was no reason for any fuss. But of course, his worry still made your heart flutter.

The mugs clink as they're set down on the counter, the sound brining you back to the room. "Sweetheart, it's raining. Supposed to only pick up, too. If you were planning on walking, I don't think that'd be a good idea."

The pet name has butterflies taking flight in your tummy as you work to tamp them down.

"It's not that far of a walk, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"I must insist that you stay," he presses, your name sounding so nicely on his tongue. "Please. I would offer you a ride myself but I'm afraid my headlight blew out, I wouldn't be able to see a thing. The guest room would be yours and I could drive you home in the morning. Or, if you insist, the weather should be fairer by then - enough to walk if you really want."

"Oh, really, I would hate to inconvenience you, sir."

"Not at all," he assures you as he prepares both mugs of coco. "In fact, I think it'd be nice to have some company for the holiday. In a house this big, being alone can feel rather lonely."

You consider his words and can't help but agree. "It can feel much the same in a small home, too," you say with a bittersweet smile. "If you really don't mind, I'd be thankful to stay."

"And I'd be thankful for the company," he smiles back. "I was about to start a movie."

You trail behind him slowly as he leads the way back to the living room. When you get to the couch, he sets both mugs down on the coffee table as he gestures for you to sit.

"Please, get comfortable. You've been on your feet all day."

You don't argue and take your seat. The couch is as comfortable as it always looks and you can't help but sigh as you relish the feeling. You almost instinctively kick off your heels, but stop yourself right in time. Charles notices the twitch of your feet, however.

You hold in a gasp as he kneels down before you and takes hold of your foot. His eyes flash up to yours as you stare down at him, lips parted and breath stalled. He slips your heel off and squeezes your foot lightly before repeating the same to your other foot. No words are exchanged as he pops back up and walks to the television. He pushes a tape into the player before sauntering back over to you.

You want to lift a leg up underneath you but don't allow yourself to, especially not while you're in this skirt. Charles takes the spot beside you and you somehow go even more rigid at his proximity.

"I said get comfortable, darling," he chides, pulling you in closer to him, "I meant it."

You allow yourself to fall into his side, and then after a long second, slowly bring a leg up to get more comfortable beside him. Another long moment, and you bring your other leg up as well, repositioning yourself while you shimmy the littlest bit closer.

Charles is warm and the room is a bit cold, so you don't mind how close he actually is. Maybe more aptly, how close you are to him...

You try to focus on the opening scene of the holiday movie you've only heard of before, never actually having had the chance to see it. But as Charles leans over and grabs the throw he'd brought out earlier, he takes over your focus once again. He drapes the blanket over both of you before settling back, essentially right against you now.

Your heart is beating so loud, you're almost sure he can hear it if he listens close enough.

Charles wraps his arm around your shoulder and you instinctively scoot closer still, letting your head rest on his chest trepidatiously. He hums his approval as you do.

"Is this okay?" he asks quietly, keeping the cozy and comfortable ambience in tact.

You're quiet, unsure of what to say. Does it feel okay? It feels like everything you've dreamed of since meeting the man. But is it okay? That you're not so sure of. Are you crossing a line? Is this a mistake?... Oh god, what are you doing? You can't lose this job!

You push yourself to sit up, pulling away from Charles as he looks at you, stunned by your haste.

"I- I'm so sorry, Mr. Blackwood. I don't know what's come over me. I should, I should go," you rush your words as you try to stand.

Try.

Charles' hand is on you in an instant, keeping you in place. You look at him with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights. He says your name and you don't think to try and get up again.

"Darling, I don't know what you're apologizing for. If I've made you uncomfortable, I should be apologizing to you," he says. "...Have I? Made you uncomfortable?"

You stare into the hypnotic gaze of his cerulean blue eyes, taking in his words. It's a moment before you softly shake your head. "No," you nearly whisper. "No, you haven't." He nods, admiring your face as you peer at him.

"That's good. And, it's Ch-"

"Charles," you cut him off. "I know. Habit," you shrug lightly.

"One you'll hopefully come to break," he smirks. "So, back to my question," he pulls you closer, "Was that okay? Being that close to me?"

You nod meekly, "Yes."

"And was it okay that I put my arm around you?"

Another weak murmur as you unconsciously lean into him, "Yes."

"And just to be sure," he breathes, leaning closer into you in return, "do you really want to leave?"

Your breath catches in your throat as you shake your head. "No."

"One last question," he says as he brings a hand to your cheek, holding your face delicately as he urges you closer. You're nose to nose as he continues, "Would it be okay if I kissed you now?"

You smile softly, your lips brush his as you answer him. "Yes," you nod.

He pulls you in gently and your hand holds his to your face as he finally kisses you, so softly you swear you could melt into the cushions.

You murmur again into the kiss as your eyelids flutter shut. Without thinking, you deepen the kiss. You find your body moving without your permission as you pull yourself more into him - almost crawling along the cushions to get closer to him.

Charles doesn't stop you, in fact, he leans back further - pulling you along the way, moving you up his lap.

Your skirt stretches across your thick thighs as you are maneuvered by him onto his lap. You straddle him as his arms come around you, pulling you to be flush against him - his lips never stopping as he kisses you so completely, so passionately. The intensity only grows more fervent as you return the desire in kind.

You mindlessly move your hips against his and he moans at the feeling. The sound of his pleasure is music to your ears and serves to get you even more worked up. You can feel the slickness as it grows between your thighs. And as you rock your hips again, you can feel Charles' excitement, too.

He is hard beneath you, his erection growing more and more prominent with each second.

"Mhm," you mewl against his lips, breaking for a breath, "Charles," you sigh - rocking once more. The friction sending a wave of sparking pleasure through you.

"Does that feel good for you, angel?" he asks, hands grabbing your hips.

You nod helplessly, "Feels so good."

He kisses you again, harder this time as he holds you in place on his lap. "I know what would feel even better," he says huskily.

He reaches for the button of his slacks and you bite your lip, a few nerves building now. You pull away from him ever so slightly as he begins to undo his pants.

"Um, Charles," you nearly whisper, waiting for a response you don't get.

You watch with heavy lidded eyes and parted, pouted lips as he pulls his straining cock from his briefs. You almost feel frozen for a second before one of his hands comes up and buries itself between your thighs. You yelp, squeaking at the touch.

"Charles, I don't know if we should-"

"Oh, sweetheart, don't worry," he hushes you. You gasp with a tremble and a light moan as his deft fingers slide up and along your clothed sex. You tilt your hips as he feels along your cunt and don't stop him when he moves your underwear to the side.

His eyes are trained on your face, he watches as it contorts with the beginning sparks of your pleasure under his touch. His dick is throbbing, on the verge of starting to leak for you.

He can't wait any longer, he's waited so long already. He needs to have you around him. Needs to feel your warmth envelope him and your weight as you sit on him. He doesn't even need to go all the way with you - not tonight. He just wants to feel you.

His tongue slips past his pillowy lips as he grips himself with one hand, guiding his red tip to your tight, slick entrance. He presses against you but you slightly back away - still unsure.

"I just want to feel you, angel. That's all. I promise. Just need you to sit down and that'll be it. Just sit right here and keep me warm for a bit. You can do that, can't you, darling?"

A sigh of relief escapes you as you slacken a bit into him. You can do that, you decide. You nod your head and bring one of your hands to his shoulders. He presses against you again and this time you move into him. You whine at the sting of his intrusion as he helps ease you down onto his length a little at a time. When you are fully seated, you drop your head into the crook of his neck as one of his hands rubs your back.

"Fuck, doesn't that feel nice?" he asks, voice breathy. You only nod against him as your walls stretch around his cock, squeezing him every so often.

"Yes," you huff, "Oh, it feels so nice, Charles."

He pulls you from his neck, brushing his nose against yours as he brings you face to face with him again.

"I knew we'd be a perfect fit," he smirks, kissing you hotly as you press yourself closer to him, returning his kiss.

"I said the guest room was yours, but there's room enough for two in my bed if you'd rather," he simpers.

"I think I just might rather," you whisper with a smile against his lips. You move to sit up but are immediately pulled back down onto his cock. You moan deeply at the movement, the drag of his length along your walls and the way your walls work to keep him inside of you. To be fair, you aren't the most experienced woman in the world, but the feeling of him is unlike anything you've ever felt before. You are entirely full of him and you fear you won't want to ever go empty again.

"Not just yet, sweetheart," he laughs, holding you down. "We aren't even halfway through the movie yet. And we have all night before we take this upstairs, angel. I want to make sure this is a Christmas we'll always remember."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Two of a Kind 7

Masterlist

NO TAGS. Don't ask.

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; manipulation; criminal behaviour; cumplay/creampie, talk of contraception; written for smut, just being honest. Not all elements will be tagged/warned.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features dark!Ransom Drysdale and dark!Modern Charles Blackwood. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Ransom and Charles are partner’s in crime but they’re looking for some pleasure after years of business.

Note: :)

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya.

Charles helps the girl stand. She's shaking like a leaf as she covers her stomach with her free arm. She tries to hide her vee behind her hand as she leans on him heavily. The feel of her trembling makes his dick twitch. 

"Should just drive her home," Ransom speaks around the stogie. 

"You're always such a prick," Charles chuckles. He knows Ransom just likes to see the girls squirm. "Come on, baby, nice hot bath for you since you did so good." 

"Since you're so fucking tight," Ransom sneers. 

She sniffles as Charles slings his arm under hers and leads her past the shameless man puffing grey smoke into the air, "I told you not to do that inside." 

"I opened a window." 

Charles issues him a dull look and a shake of the head as he continues past. She leans into him as her feet slap on the floor clumsily. If he wasn’t holding onto her, she’d collapse. He can tell. She’s weak. It’s getting him going again. 

He brings her into the bathroom as she murmurs, her head lolling forward. Fuck he is goddamn hard again. Twice already and he’s ready to blow. He’s no underperformer but he can’t remember the last time he was like this. Insatiable, as many described him in most matters. 

He flips up the toilet lid around her and sits her down. He pets her head as she slumps. 

“You should go, clear everything out or you might get an infection,” he lets his fingers drag over her shoulder, “we don’t want that, do we?” 

She nods, he thinks. She’s half-bent over her lap as she grips her head. As the soft trickle hits the toilet seat, she sinks further into shame. As drunk as she is, she’s still self-conscious. Even after he was just in her guts. 

Stop. He looks down at his bobbing dick. It’s starting to fucking hurt and his head isn’t making it any better. 

He goes to the tub and cranks on the four-pronged faucets. The house is not the nicest place he’s been in but he likes the bathroom. Deep tub, lots of counter space, big mirrors. He glances over his shoulder at the mirrors the cover the expanse of one wall above the floating counter. He could fuck her in front of them, make her watch herself. 

Later. He has to reprimand himself as he did Ransom. Don’t wanna break the girl. Not yet.  

He puts the stopper in place and stands. He goes to her and helps her up, pausing to flush the toilet behind her. He as good as carries her to the tub and lifts her over the edge. He reclines her against the back and she stares up with glassy eyes. 

He stands and watches her. She suddenly spasms as a sob erupts from her. She gulps as the tears spring forth and she blather uncontrollably. He touches her shoulder. It’s the alcohol, it makes everything feel much more intense. 

“Shh, baby, you’re alright,” he comforts. 

Her eyes drift over then fall down to his pulsing erection. He’s suddenly very self-aware as his tip presses to his stomach. He stands straight as she shields herself with a weak hand. 

“I can’t... please, no more,” she begs. 

"Shh, honey," he coos, the pet name surprising even him. She just seems so pathetic.  

He backs up and grabs a towel. He covers himself and nears the tub once more. Maybe it was a bit too much. Well, she's fucked up enough it won't be that bad in the morning.  

"Do you like tea?" He asks. She nods and wipes her face. "Alright, I'll get you some."  

He retreats and stops at the door, glancing back at her. Hm.  

"Ransom!" He hollers as he comes out into the hall, "get your ass in here."  

The other man appears at the end of the hall and struts down in a pair of silk boxers. He could roll his eyes at him. Sometimes he thinks he's working with a moron. Well, the man would be an easy mark, especially with his grandfather's legacy. Not the time, Charles. 

"Keep an eye on her so she doesn't go under." Ransom scoffs as he approaches, "fucked her silly."  

"Sure," he taps Ransom's arm with his knuckles. "The last thing we need is a dead girl."  

"Mm, nope, she's lively, huh? The way she whined..."  

Charles clears his throat as his balls ache, "yeah. Anyway, watch her, will ya?"  

Ransom clucks but steps into the doorway. He leans on the frame and narrows his eyes at the girl, his hand going to his hip. That's the biggest problem. Ransom doesn't know when to stop.  

"Just watch," Charles warns, "she's had enough."  

"Man, I think she had enough at the first knuckle," Ransom brings his fingers up to sniff, "didn't stop us before."  

"Hey, we didn't put in all this work for one night, alright? I don't got the energy and I know you don't either," Charles huffs, "you wanna keep buying bimbos drinks down at Lights? No. We get her on lock and it's easy. Stress relief."  

Ransom snickers and peers at the girl again, "she is fucking... tight."  

"Hm, yeah," he agrees. "I'll be back."  

Charles goes to the kitchen and sighs. Goddamn he is hard. He can hardly remember what he was doing. 

Tea. Right. Yeah. It'll calm her down. If they even have any.  

👄 

You shiver as the cool air tingles over your shoulders. The hot water contrasts the chill as you languish in the deep tub. You stare at the ceiling, vaguely aware of voices, filled with dread at what they'll do next.  

A shadow moves into the room and you look over warily. It's Ransom. He leans on the counter as he watches you. You stare back, waiting for it, bracing for more pain. He doesn't move.  

"Consider yourself lucky, babe," he chuckles, "not a lot of girls pop their cherry on something that big." You tremble and turn forward, embarrassed. "I know it's huge, the way you were squirming, but you're also..." he makes a sucking noise, "tight as shit."  

"Why... why are you doing this?" You sniffle.  

"Babe, babe, why did I choose you? Why did I spend my money, my time on a girl no one gives a second look to? Huh. You should be thanking me," he sneers, "and what do you got now? All the sweet little act means nothing if you're not a virgin. You're just another slut now."  

"No," you shake your head and sit up, hiding your face. "I'm not--"  

"You are. You just took two men at once. Who the fuck does that but a slut like you? But babe, we don't gotta throw you out. Not if you keep being a good little slut for us. I mean," he nears the side of the tub, "no one else is gonna want a used hole." 

 You whimper and hang your head, folding your arms over it as you bend your knees under your elbow. He's right. You're used and dirty. You hear another set of footsteps and another shadow darkens the edge of your vision. Ransom backs up and snorts.  

"What's going on?" Charles asks.  

"Nothing, we were just talking," Ransom says, "she was just saying how much fun she had."  

Charles clucks as you frown and lift your head. The brunette shoulders around the blond and comes to you with a mug. Steam coils from the brim.  

"How about we get you out and you can wait for it to cool in bed? All comfy?" 

"Jesus, Charlie, she's not a fucking baby."  

"Shut up," Charles snaps back, "she did a real good job and she earned it," he sets the mug down on the short stool near the tub, "isn't that right, baby? So good. So you wanna get out and have your tea and get some rest, right? You take care of us, we take care of you."  

Your lip quivers as you stare at him. You're dizzy and dazed and dumb. You don't understand why this is happening. You're a nice person. You nod. Thinking is only making your head hurt worse. Charles helps you out of the the tub and grabs another towel to wrap you in. He brings it around your shoulders and squeezes before he turns to drape his arm around you.  

"Come on, you wanna sleep in my room?" He coos.  

You just sniff and wipe your raw cheek again. He takes you down the hall and opens a door, taking you inside. He flips on the lights and sits you on the edge of the king bad within. You stay there as he shifts around the room. He returns and replaces the towel with a shirt. You thank him. Why did you do that? Thank you? After everything.  

He guides you to lay against the pillows. The bed smells like him, a hint of citrus and sweat. Your eyes are glued to the ceiling as he leaves you. Your trance breaks only as a cup clinks down loudly.  

You blink as a weight dips beside you. You wince as Charles pulls the blanket out from under you then over you. You shake and puts his hand on your arm. It makes you still, somewhat soothing yet startling all the same. 

“Drink your tea, honey,” he caresses your arm as he nestles closer.  

[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕰𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝕲𝖔 𝕮𝖔𝖑𝖉

𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚛. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜 𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎.

𝙰���𝚛𝚎𝚡𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚢.

𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚌𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎.

Relationship: Charles Blackwood x female!reader

Words: ~1.4k

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!! explicit language, explicit sexual content (non-con, public sex, unprotected vaginal sex, marking), horror elements, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: my muse is awake and thriving?! Anyway, enjoy the creepy ghost sex, y’all. More monsters to come

You smiled as your maid of honor helped you do up the last of the buttons on your grandmother’s wedding gown, turning when she was finished and basking in the “oohs” and “ahs” of your bridal party. Everything was so perfect. The manor was beautiful and it really was the vintage wedding of your dreams.

But something still felt off. An occasional shiver would travel up your spine and you felt as though you were being watched. No matter how much you told yourself it was nothing, the feeling wouldn’t go away, causing you to look over your shoulder and your smile to falter. You thought you saw something out of the corner of your eye and tried to move your head quickly to get a better look, but whatever it was was gone.

Charles was enjoying setting you so on edge. Ever since you first came to his manor, his home, trying to decide if this was where you wanted to celebrate your love for your nothing of a fiancé, he had wanted you. You looked exactly like her, especially now that you were wearing her dress, and since he couldn’t have her when he was alive, maybe now he could have you while he was dead. In fact, there were quite a few things he could do whilst dead that he never would have dreamed of while he was alive.

Emboldened by the fact that neither you nor any of your bridesmaids could see him, Charles glided forward, ignoring the other women and focusing all his attention on you. When you shivered at his proximity he grinned wickedly, eager to see what other reactions he might be able to elicit from you.

The feeling of an ice cold finger dragging down the side of your neck made you gasp, your bridesmaids asking you what was wrong and only shrugging when you said it was nothing. You must have been going crazy, that was the only explanation for this. All of a sudden the finger turned into a hand that was gripping and massaging your breast, making you gasp again but only able to offer your bridesmaids a shake of your head when they inquired about your wellbeing. A second hand joined the first in fondling your breasts and you whimpered under your breath, swearing that you heard a lascivious groan in your ear and the chilly breath of some eerie presence on the back of your neck.

You suddenly realized that whatever was happening to you, it was making you wet, so wet you were worried about it soaking through your panties and staining your dress. Fortunately it was time for the procession, so you stood up to make your way to the hall where your ceremony would be taking place. Your hope that perhaps these odd sensations would cease once you left the bridal suite was quickly dashed, one of the freezing hands moving from groping your breasts to squeezing your ass. It was all you could do not to start crying, confusion and arousal making your head feel fuzzy as you stumbled after your bridal party and tried to keep your smile on your face.

Charles had never felt so elated in either life or death. He knew he was torturing you, but he didn’t care, groaning again when he smelled your pussy getting wetter and wetter. You were so soft and warm under his dead hands, your body more responsive than he could have ever dreamed. When he felt your nipple hardening under his fingers he gave it a pinch, tugging on it gently and chuckling again when you whined and squirmed for him.

It took everything in him not to grow even more bold before you had reached the hall. For everything he wanted to do to you, he also wanted an audience. The doors opened and he waited alongside you, his cock throbbing when he smelled your neck as your bridesmaids made their way down the aisle.

When you spotted your fiancé you finally forgot about all the strange things that had been happening to you for just a moment, smiling at how handsome he looked and beginning to make your way towards him so you could be joined as man and wife. Then you heard a tearing sound, and all the beautiful antique buttons that had decorated the back of your grandmother’s wedding dress scattered around you while everyone in attendance gasped. Suddenly you were on the floor and screaming, trying to bat away invisible hands as they tore at your ruined gown and delicate lingerie until your breasts were exposed to everyone in attendance.

They were all frozen, horror gripping them and keeping them from helping you as you pleaded and begged for whatever was happening to you to stop. Something was between your legs and your screams became even more frantic, your body thrashing wildly even as you were pinned down by some invisible force. It was pushing your skirt up your legs and you wailed, choking on your tongue when your cry was suddenly muffled by what felt like a freezing cold pair of lips. The utter shock allowed for your panties to be ripped off and discarded, and then your ghostly assailant was inside you.

Your cunt was so tight and warm Charles almost came on the spot. Instead he just roared with pleasure, a sound that every living being in attendance heard and was made to cower. He didn’t care about them, though, except for the fact that he wanted them to watch him fuck you into oblivion. Bruises were already raising on your breasts and the insides of your thighs from the brutality of his assault on you, and that just made him fuck into you even harder, ramming his cock as deep as it would go and grinding against your clit so you knew that he was giving you pleasure that you had never thought existed.

He reveled in the knowledge that your fiancé had a perfect view of your pussy stretched wide open around his invisible cock, loving that the poor man could see every ripple and flutter of your internal muscles when his violent movements wrenched an orgasm from your tormented body without warning. You even squirted everywhere, making a mess that Charles would have licked up if he still had the ability. For now he just settled for kissing you again as he continued to fuck you, swallowing your sobs and whimpers as your body quivered underneath him.

You had never felt more miserable or humiliated in your entire life. Every member of your family and all of your friends were witnessing you being assaulted by some spectral being and still your body betrayed you again and again. When your second orgasm took you you had to shut your eyes, silently praying that this was a nightmare and that soon you would wake up. But you knew it was futile. This was impossible, but it was real.

How could you ever look your fiancé in the eyes again? Knowing that he had seen you so utterly debased and used. And the man did nothing to stop it, just stood there and watched as pleasure was wrung out of your helpless body. It made you almost hate him even though all you wanted was for him to hold you and tell you everything was going to be alright. You knew it never would, though, not when every important person in your life had to watch you be completely and utterly degraded for the amusement of some spirit.

After your fourth orgasm Charles couldn’t hold back any longer, looking over his shoulder and laughing at the look of horror on your fiancé’s face as he started to pump his cum inside you. He knew how strange it must feel, so cold and thick as it coated your inner walls. And it would always stay with you, that small piece of him like a piece of ice that was piercing your heart and sticking to the most intimate part of you. As soon as he was finished he withdrew, sighing as he floated towards the ceiling and ignoring the sounds of your wretched cries as everyone suddenly broke from their terrified spell and rushed to your aid. He had finally gotten everything that he wanted, and he knew that you would never forget him.

[theinheriteddutchess]

An Inconvenient Attachment

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader, Charles blackwood x reader (swiftly)

Summary: Being married to a Lord, you didn't expect much, but you feel yourself slipping deeper into despair as the months go by. There are expectations for both of you, but you can't fulfill them when your husband barely looks at you.

Word count: 5883

Warnings: women having to do their wifey duties. Loveless marriage. Cheating (a kiss)

Notes: I just had this idea, Jane Austen-esque Lord Ransom. Do with it what you will🤷🏻‍♀️ let me know if you liked it, it will be appreciated.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Masterlist

There was no love in this cold dark house. 

As you wandered through long halls filled with old portraits of sour looking people, with dark mahogany dressoirs and closets, poorly lit by flame, you wondered how there was ever a time you felt happy. 

There had been laughter in your life. Light and warmth. A family. 

Why Lord Drysdale ever set eyes upon you, you do not know. 

It was at a ball. You remember the night and all the colors around you, from the dresses to the accessories, to the flowers and the food. You had gotten a new dress yourself, your father and mother had saved for it. You weren't poor, but your family's wealth had depleted and your parents tried to hide it desperately for the rest of society. 

You were to marry up, as well as your sisters, but you were older than them, and only had an older brother who had already settled two years prior. A happy match. Not rich, but comfortable. 

And while you laughed and drank, his cold eyes had watched you. He stood in a corner most of the night, a glass in hand and did not dance once. Not many ladies dared to pry an invitation from him. He was known as a reclusive man. Rich beyond understanding, with a large estate and many servants. 

He was handsome, tall and broad around the shoulders. He dressed well. He was known to be intelligent. His manners were lacking however, and he could be unkind. All in all an unpleasant man, wrapped in pleasant luxuries. 

Your parents had set eyes on him, while you were unaware. 

It all happened quickly. You were asked to dance, you accepted. Internally surprised by the offer, but you did not show. You took his hands and he led you to the dance floor. He could dance, very well even. So it was a choice not to do so before. 

He asked to call upon you the next day. Again, you accepted. It wasn't that you were fond of him, but you knew your manners, and it was quite flattering that a man like himself showed interest in you. It would expand your expectations with any future suitors.

However, there were no other suitors. Lord Drysdale was courting you, and everyone soon heard about it, and there weren't many men who wished to make him an enemy. 

Your parents were thrilled. Before you even knew what to think, you were engaged to be wed, and even that happened swiftly. Whispers of love having thawed the man's cold heart sounded through society, but you didn't believe it. You barely knew the man.

Ransom, is what he told you to call him in private. And you knew he liked horseback riding. He had a liking for sweets, and he did not like his family very much. 

His grandfather had favored him and willed his whole fortune and estate to him when he had passed, leaving him completely alone in that big house, since the rest of his family bickered with him over scraps constantly. He was still paying for his parents residence in a different town, but the rest of them had been cut off and had to accept the state of living as they could make it. 

It had been time for him to find a wife and start a family, and it had been so for several years. Yet none of the lovely faces around him had suited him, and he spent most days a wanted bachelor. But mostly for his money. 

His face stirred some feelings in several ladies, of course, but they found out soon his personality did not. 

He had a tendency to insult them quickly if he found them vain, or shallow. 

Polite conversation bored him, and he had no patience for dishonest compliments. 

All in all, a difficult man to deal with.

Why you were wed so quickly to him, you often wondered about in the following months after your wedding. You came to the conclusion that he had decided to marry finally, and thought you were agreeable, and your parents worked hard to make you think this would be a splendid idea. 

The money would make you more than comfortable and it was decided he would help your parents out of the financial disaster they so desperately wanted to escape. Besides, your sisters’s prospects for a good match went up significantly.

Lord Drysdale had been somewhat pleasant to converse with in public and under the watchful eyes of your parents, who were making sure nothing indecent until the wedding happened and there would be no return, but as soon as you were allowed to call each other husband and wife, things took a weird turn. 

Ransom spent most of his time in the library or his study, working. And you were left alone for most of the day. You couldn't call ordering the servants around as conversation, and it wasn't like they were allowed to talk back anyway. 

Things were feeling quite poorly. You were lonely. You missed your friends, and it wasn't easy to see them, since Lord Drysdale didn't like them much, nor did he like visitations. He also didn't like you away from the estate either, though why that was, you did not know. 

It was feeling like a prison with all the rules you had to accommodate. 

You were not to drink too much, you were to sleep on time, you were not to disturb him if he was in his studies. You were to take walks in the garden to keep your healthy figure. You had to ask for permission to invite someone, and it was always declined. He wanted you to put your hair up in public and any loose strands or curls were only accepted inside the house, he did not like you pretending you smiled or laughed, he preferred your reactions to be honest. You were to listen and to obey him. 

There were visits to yours and his parents, but it was obvious he did not enjoy doing so. He was polite, but withdrawn. His body tense and his eyes alert.

He did not like his parents, and truthfully, neither did you. But your parents tried their best to include him, and be familiar with him, and he had no intention to. 

It was why you wondered why he had wanted you as his wife. There was a moment, when you were courting, you thought he had some interest in you, but that completely disappeared after the wedding. 

You felt shame thinking of the night following it. 

He had come to your room, and you, anxiously squeezing your hands, had to bare yourself for him. Your virginal white sleeping gown covering your modesty, your hair loose from its pins.

He stood in the doorway, still, watching. It took a long time for him to do anything else. 

You were nervous, maybe you did not please him. Your mother had told you, you just had to do what you were told and it would be over soon. Think of happy things. 

When he finally neared you, you were so terrified you felt like crying, but his hands grabbed your chin and studied you. Then he lifted the gown and took it from you. 

You stood naked, knowing you shouldn't have to cover yourself for your husband, but wanting nothing more than that. 

He took your hands and guided you to sit on the bed, then he undressed himself. 

It was with a certain amount of interest as you watched him, never having seen a naked man before, but it looked so intimidating that you lowered your eyes to your lap.

He looked strong, and at the moment that seemed threatening to you. 

He had lowered you to lie down, and had climbed  on top of you. It had hurt and you still remember the rocking motions your body went through and his face as he completed. 

His jaw hadn't been unclenched once.

When he was done he removed himself from you and dressed again. He gave you a little nod and left.

The servants cleaned you up the next day and changed the bedsheets, and you spent an uncomfortable week sitting on a soft pillow. 

It hadn't happened again. And you were grateful. You understood why he hadn't wanted it either, if it was so unpleasant to do. Mother's words on it being necessary to have children proved right. What a despair a married couple had to go through just to have a family! You had to do what was needed, but you hoped once was enough.

Yet, no children came. You didn't grow around the waist, and you worried if something went wrong that time. Since you knew nothing about bedding someone, and you were sure not to ask since it was very improper, you were left with questions and worry, but no solution. 

Your mother asked you at every dinner you were able to go to, if you had been with child already. And you could only tell her you were not. To great disappointment. She spoke as if it was your fault. You had to please your husband. 

It was hard to please a man who did not wish to be seen. 

-

You stared out the window. Your favorite pastime nowadays. You were allowed to read, but only if your husband wasn’t in the library and the unpredictability if he was or wasn't was so nerve-wracking you avoided the room a lot.

Only when he was gone did you feel at ease. This house did not feel like a home.

There was no warmth and there was no unity to make it so. 

Your husband did not seem to have any interest in you, and you had learned to accept it. 

Maybe one day he would enter your room again, and you would endure it and maybe a child would be born to take your mind off of things. You would be content. 

His parents sometimes brought the subject up during the third course of dinner, and your husband would look agitated. They were in a higher position than your family, yet you found they were much easier with showing their inner thoughts. It was a little vulgar in your opinion. They did not know you well, and this was a difficult subject. Something not to be raised during dinner. Yet they did not care. 

His mother wanted grandchildren, and she said so if she wanted anything. 

Ransom would throw the doors closed as soon as you came home, the sound echoing in the empty halls, and you were left alone again. 

-

However, things seemed to go better for you with the arrival of a man named Charles Blackwood. He said to be a cousin of the family, but had traveled in the last few years and had only come back upon receiving a letter from his attorney. In it, it said he was the potential heir of this very property. His father and Ransom's grandfather had invested in it and though Charles' father passed too early, it now meant he might have been the legitimate heir all along.

Ransom was furious, he denied any claim and rushed off to see his  own attorney to settle this quickly. He had thrown Mister Blackwood out unceremoniously. You worried by yourself, you had no idea if Ransom's money was mostly the land and it's yearly income or if he had separate money, and if you'd even have a house to live in soon. 

You wanted to refuse to talk to mister Blackwood when he showed up the next day to have a civilized conversation. Your husband was not home, you informed him, but he smiled kindly and told you, you were. You were the mistress of the house - so far - couldn't you speak to him? He did not wish to stir trouble. He understood it was a difficult situation. 

You hesitated, but what else had you to do today? And perhaps you could find out more from where he came from, and what kind of man he was. 

Charles Blackwood, as it turned out,  was a gentle and warm man. He made you feel at ease instantly, and seemed very interested in you and any of your interests. You found yourself laughing sometimes, and listening to his reviving stories about his travels. You had never even left the county, other than one holiday at ten years old when your mother had fallen ill, and the doctor advised some fresh air of the seaside. 

He was a great storyteller, animated, with big gestures, and a way to make it appear to come alive in your mind. You enjoyed the afternoon thoroughly, and when he made his way to leave, he asked if he could come by to visit again. 

He told you, whispering like it was a secret between you two, that he had enjoyed your company, and he had felt a bit lonely before, being in a place he hadn't been familiar with. 

You agreed without thinking, knowing your husband didn't come back until the next day. And what would it matter? There was no harm in talking. Perhaps you could persuade him to leave the house to ransom if he was the heir. Perhaps he would sell it to you for a decent price. 

He did not seem to be an unkind man, you hoped to find a way out of this predicament.

The next day the two of you took a walk in the admittedly beautiful garden. The sun was pleasant enough to not need a coat, and not so hot you would be uncomfortable. He offered his arm and you took it. The warmth of his hands captured yours and you were a little startled at the reaction your body gave. 

He was handsome, as much as Ransom was, but he was gentler and quick to laugh. His blue eyes were so bright you wished you could paint to capture them. You felt flustered with the thought, it wasn't proper. 

Yet, you continued holding him while you took steps through the scenery and describing the plants to him. He listened avidly. Nothing you said seemed to annoy him. 

After such a long time of feeling invisible, you suddenly felt lively again and you brightened considerably with every affection he seemed to give you. 

A finger stroking your wrist, a look given before the turning of one's face. His soft sweet words, as he complimented your knowledge. 

Your heart was racing when he looked at you with admiration, and you kept repeating you were a married woman to yourself. It did not matter. You found yourself taken with him unlike any other.

When he had departed again, you had been sad, more than you should have been, knowing you most likely couldn't see him again since your husband's return in the morning. You went to bed with a head full of thoughts of pretty smiles, and his words tumbling through your mind. 

Seeing Ransom again was awkward as usual. You tried greeting him, but he marched past you, grumbling entirely that it would take a while to expose the lies of ‘that man’.

He seemed to want to inform you however, even if it was with an outburst and raising his voice so you sat trembling on the sofa, listening to him and trying to figure out what had happened. 

It turned out Charles - mister Blackwood wasn't immediately exposed as a fraude, so Ransom wasn't happy. More information had to be sought and he had to wait. 

You hesitated to tell him he had visited, knowing he wouldn't be happy, but the servants would most likely inform him themselves, and if he heard it from anyone else he would never forgive you. That, you were certain of.

“He has come by, Mister Blackwood, I mean,” you told him, avoiding eye contact. “He wished to speak about the subject, you weren't home but I could not just send him away, he's family. I hoped to find more about him.”

The silence was stiffling but he broke it. “And did you? Find out?”

He seemed suddenly so calm, it eered you. “Some of it. He is well traveled. He is polite and seemed very dismayed by the trouble this causes. He wishes to come to a solution.”

“I will have a solution if he looks into my pistol.”

You blanched. Ransom never seemed violent, but he wasn't a jester. The possibility of him bringing this to such an end might not be impossible. 

“Ran- my Lord, please,” you corrected yourself, too uncomfortable to call him by his first name ever since it was clear you weren't to be his equal. “He is kind, surely there's another way?”

“He is kind?” He mumbled incredulously.”Is he, now? You pretend to know him with one visit?”

“Two,” you admitted. “It seems he's quite lonely in a country he hasn't visited in years, I -” you cut yourself off, unable to admit you were lonely. “It seemed decent to show him around and lift his spirits. He might be willing to sell if he is the legal heir.”

At this Ransom bristled, anger creeping in again. “What he is like, or what he wants does not matter.  This house belongs to me, these lands belong to me. These servants, my wife, the dogs, are all belonging to me. And you think me a fool to give any of it up? To pay for what is rightfully mine? Do not speak to me like this again!”

You shivered and looked at your clenched hands. It was no coincidence you were mentioned amongst the servants and the dogs. Deliberate or not, this was how he thought of you. 

Things turned even icier between you two after that. Ransom stomped through the house, finding every bit of document or diary to prove his case and you stayed as far away from him as you could. The tension feeling suffocating and threatening. 

-

It was unfortunate that you received an invite to a dinner party that neither of you could refuse. You went without barely a word being spoken between the two of you, knowing you had to keep up pretenses for the whole evening. You were not looking forward to it. 

Your spirits lifted tremendously, once you set eyes upon a familiar set of blue eyes. And the bright smile sent your way when he greeted you animatedly. Ransom was furious, but could not act upon it in public, but he took your arm so tersely you yelped in pain.

He looked at you confused, until he realized and lessened his grip. He seemed almost apologetic, but said nothing. 

What joy you felt when you were seated next to Charles. Another gentleman you barely knew was seated on the other side of you, and you made sure to give him enough attention to not be accused of favoritism. Lord Grant was a viscount and only lower in rank after you married Ransom, he deserved to be treated with respect. He had been sickly as a boy and never completely recovered, but he was a pleasant table partner and loved discussing art with you. Dividing your attentions between everyone around you, you couldn't help but notice Charles was watching you. He was trying to be subtle, but you felt his eyes upon you whenever you looked away and the attention made your body heat up. 

You weren't used to being of much interest for anyone, and the months with your husband made you feel like you were even less so. So it was with excitement you continued talking to the dashing looking man. 

He complimented your dress, lowering his voice and leaning into you, so you wouldn't be overheard. He told you you looked particularly well today and he hoped your health was well. You agreed and stumbled a bit over your words, you told him he looked quite well this evening. 

“Well? Is that all?” He joked. “I was hoping you would complement my nice complexion. Or perhaps how the color of my jacket brings out the light in my eyes.”

You lowered your eyes. “Why yes. Of course. It is a nice jacket.”

He laughed softly. Picking up his soup spoon, coincidentally brushing the side of your hands with his pinky, he scooped up some bouillon and tasted it. “I wish to tell you more of how I feel, but I'm afraid eager ears will pick up on it.”

Your own cutlery nearly fell out of your hands. It seemed sir Blackwood was being forward with his little compliments this evening. Was he really interested in you? You knew it wasn't right, but a part of you couldn't help bask in the warm glow it send through your body. 

“Sir, we are in public, and you have already admired my dress. Perhaps that is enough for now?” You mumbled, feeling your chest tighten with excitement. “I wish to ask you how you find the soup.”

“Aahh yes, the soup. It is nicely seasoned. Not too warm and not too cold. It's a beauty to behold, the color just to my liking and not too heavy to the stomach. I wish to eat soup like this every day in my future.”

You couldn't resist a small laugh, and tried to dab your mouth to hide it. 

“Do not jest like this, sir, I would not like to spoil any of the broth,” you told him amusedly. 

“It would surely cause a scandal, but please, call me Charles.”

You could not do that. Calling him by his first name would imply a more familiar acquaintance, one that would be indecent as a married woman. Even if you wished to form his name on your lips and hold it there.

If only he had appeared before Ransom, would things perhaps be different? Perhaps you would be happy. 

Throughout the evening, Charles continued taking liberties and you could not help pretending like you didn't notice so he would continue. You presented yourself as a perfect picture. Happy with your husband, enjoying your married life, eager to do your duties as a wife.

Meanwhile Charles' words and looks made you feel like a heroine in a romance novel, being wooed and chased. It was exciting, as well as scary. 

Your husband was occupied, seated in front of you, talking to his own table companions, unaware of these events. You were certain he didn't notice anything going on. That you were hiding well.

You excused yourself at some point to withdraw yourself to the water closet and relieved yourself, but as you walked back to the party, you were interrupted by Charles, who had seemed to wait for you. 

“My lady, could I speak with you, in private?” he begged you, looking terribly urgent. 

You hesitated, but nodded and he took your hand and led you outside, sheltered from prying eyes, before he spoke to you, still holding onto you, staring into your eyes. 

“I have to apologize, for I know this is improper, but I can not be silent any longer. Ever since I set eyes on you I have been tormented with these feelings.”

You swallowed. “Feelings?” You whispered, not daring to hope.

“You're in my every thought. The wish to touch your hands, like this,” he held up your entwined hands. “It feels like my heart will beat out of my chest. I want to see you every day, even if I know I can't. Tell me if you feel the same!”

“Sir, Charles, I can't!” You pressed your eyes shut, willing the tears that nearly came out to disappear. “I am married, this is improper.”

“Damn improper!” He shouted, startling you with his vulgar language. “I can not be silent any longer. Anyone can see how unhappy you are. How little your husband pays you attention. If you were my wife I would never make you feel unwanted. I would worship you. Because I do, I adore you. Please relieve me out of this misery and say you feel like I do. That one look leaves you trembling. That you desire me as much as I do you.”

“Charles…” you whispered. “It isn't right, I shouldn't…”

You could speak no more, because he had pressed his lips upon you. And after that you were not thinking clearly. The smell of him made you dizzy and one of his hands softly touched the gap between your cleavage and you trembled in his arms. 

You were going to tell him you did feel the same, confess every one of your sinful thoughts to him as long as he never stopped, when footsteps broke through your euphoria and you scrambled to create space and look decent. 

Your husband stepped outside and with one look upon you and the other men his eyes darkened. 

“I do not feel well, we are leaving early.” He said, and took your arm in a tight grip to drag you away.

It still took a while before you could step into your carriage, because  compliments were to be said to the hosts and invitations to be given back - something you dreaded your husband wouldn't uphold if he could avoid it- but when you finally were on your way, the silence settled. 

You opened your mouth to ask if he was very unwell, but as soon as you did, he interrupted before a word was said. “Speak not, I do not want to hear a word from you.” 

It was an unpleasant trip back to your house, while your husband looked out of the window and did not once glance at you. Had he seen anything? Or heard? Perhaps it was your absence that raised suspicions. 

You had been a fool. Charles’s charms had been too irresistible. His words. They lingered in your thoughts on repeat. He had flattered you, he had said he couldn't stop thinking about you. 

Meanwhile, you were happy if your husband didn't forget to bring you to any outings, or spoke to you at all during dinner. Your behavior had been wrong, but were you to live your life like this forever? You hadn't expected love, but at least common respect. Getting to know each other and be comfortable. Some care for each other's well being… 

When you arrived he supported you by offering his hands to help you out of the carriage, but he did not release it after you stepped onto ground. He held it as he walked towards the entrance, and he kept it when he guided you upstairs. He dismissed the servants, he led you to your room. 

When you were there, he did not leave. He entered as well. 

“Undress.”

With big eyes you looked upon him. Surely, he didn't want to lay with you now?

His piercing eyes watched you with a cold glint, daring you to repeat himself.

You didn't hesitate for long. He was your husband, this was his right. You didn't want to anger him any more as you had already done so. With trembling fingers you started undoing the dress for as far as you could, but he stepped in as you couldn't undo all the strings and buttons in the middle of your back.

He wasn't hard with undressing you, but he didn't take his time, deft fingers undoing your clothes expertly. 

When you were naked he hummed and circled around you. Staring at your body like a doctor checking for any illnesses. You felt exposed, even more so than on your wedding night. 

“I want you to lay down on the bed, in the middle, and not say a word.”

You did as you were told, preparing yourself for the pain that was soon to come. 

When he undressed you looked up at the ceiling, when you felt him beside you, you closed your eyes. He spread your legs and you clenched your hands. But he did not thrust forward. Suddenly something warm was pressed against the gap between your legs and you flinched. Firm hands pressed your thighs apart when you tried to close them in shock. 

“No.” He simply said, and continued. You opened your eyes to look at what he was doing, but that was your undoing. The sight of his face against that private spot, his hair falling over his forehead in messy strands, it thrilled you somehow.  A feeling washed over you, something you had never experienced and you wailed with the intensity. 

“See, this is what it is like between a husband and his wife.” He lifted his head, fury still evident in his face, even as he wiped it with his arm, he crawled up towards you, his body pressed against yours. “You vowed yourself to me and I am allowed to take you however I want, and I will! You were so willing to give yourself to another, I did not know I married such a wanton woman.”

You started crying and tried to apologize. 

He held your hands above your head and his fingers crawled down your body and found your womanhood once more and started moving. It was already uncomfortable, not exactly painful, but he held you too tight to get loose when you tried to struggle, and he didn't let you go. Then you felt that familiar feeling creep up again and somehow opened your legs wider for him once more.

“Tell me, was this what you did when I left home? When he visited? Did he put his hands on you and make you feel this?!”

You shook your head from left to right, delirious. “No, no!”

“Am I supposed to believe that, when I saw you in his arms?”

“This was the first time, I've never -”

“Are you telling the truth?!” His fingers moved faster and you sobbed again, it was too good.

“Yes. Yes! He hasn't touched me, only tonight, I know it was wrong, but I..”

“But you..?”

“I was lonely!” you shouted. “I wanted to be wanted, to be liked.” You trembled as you broke again, sniffling pathetically underneath him, surely he was going to want to discard of you now. 

He was silent as he watched you. Then, he released your hands and placed his own on each side of your, he moved forward, and slowly entered you. Much gentler than the first time he did it. And this time it didn't hurt so much. It was still a weird feeling, and there was still pain, but there was also a weird sense of belonging. Of wanting more of him. 

You looked up at him in awe. The feeling so overwhelming, you couldn't help your hands coming up to him to clutch his shoulders. Feeling the firm muscles there and the warmth of his skin.

“I chose you,” he told you as he started moving, still gentle and slow, while you were experiencing the pleasure of connecting with him for the first time. “I did not want to get married, but I chose you, and I will not let another man have you, you understand? He is no gentleman and soon it will be proven. I can't blame you too much, you are naive and you were untried. He took advantage. You wouldn't be the only one. He would have ruined your reputation and left you in shame.”

He thrusted harder and it shook your whole body. “But I will not let him succeed. He thinks he can take everything from me, all that I own, but I am here to tell you the only one who owns you is me.”

You couldn't even speak, your body moved with him, and it was almost too much and never enough. You let out sounds you would normally be embarrassed about, and he kissed you and swallowed each of them.

“It is my fault, I paid you no attention. You're my wife, you deserve better. I was angry to have to marry, and I was angry to find out I wanted you, I thought I could keep control. But the thought of you with that man…. No.”

He moved even faster and you shrieked when your body shook once more, and you were completely exhausted. This time he started shaking and moaning with you, and warmth bloomed once more inside of you. 

He laid gasping, still inside of you, not caring he was too heavy, but for once you weren't intimidated by him. You felt warm and sheltered. 

When he finally lifted his head, he stared at you. “I am not an easy man, it is hard for me to express my feelings. But they are there, and you will not make a mockery of them.”

You blinked at him, surprised by everything you heard him say. 

“My Lord..”

“Ransom! Always Ransom to you, I will not hear you speak another man's name but mine.” He eyed you until you nodded. 

He kissed your cheek softly. “I will be a better husband, and you will feel the way I feel about you. Starting with this,” somehow he moved again and you gasped once more.

-

Ransom turned out to be right. Charles Blackwood was of lower upbringing, intending to steal from wealthier bloodlines, and it seemed that he had meant to take advantage of you and not just steal the estate. He would have ruined you, you realized, and suddenly all his sweet words tasted sour in the back of your mouth.

Things with your husband, however, improved significantly after that eventful evening, and he made great effort into conversing with you. 

And at night it was rare he did not visit you. Feelings turned from loneliness, to want, to desire, to love. 

He had confessed that in order to keep his wealth he needed to be wed before he turned 30, but had only reluctantly started trying only a few months before the set time. And he couldn't bear any of the other options. That you alone had caught his interest, and then his heart. But he had not known any kindness growing up, and he hadn't liked how you made him feel. He had intended to marry you and live his life like he had always done. In seclusion. However, he found it difficult with you around. And when Blackwood appeared he found himself suddenly overcome with feelings he never experienced before. He had wanted to challenge him to a duel and bury him so he would never touch you again. But it made him aware he could not fight his feelings any longer. 

He never wanted to be apart from you again, and he only wished you could forgive him his abysmal behavior, and give him a chance to know you and you him. A marriage of love and not convenience. 

Not that he let you any other choice. He resumed his husbandly duties every night, until you were finally with child, and when the doctor informed you of the happy expectations, he had never looked more proud and more loving than at that moment. 

“I love you,” he told you as soon as you were alone again, and you wholesomely could reply this time. 

“I love you too."

[i-am-true-believer]

Hello sweet readers, my fellow fanfiction lovers. My late night scrollers, my mid day day dreamers, my sunrise few. I have a little hypothetical for you, so please bare with me, I promise theres a point to this. Imagine Tumblr is a very large building with many, many rooms. And when you walk in theres doors and hallways and different wings and branches. Rooms for different fanfictions, different tropes, different worlds, characters, universes. And there are some doors that are perfectly well kept. They look like they have never been touched. You can tell theres things there but those arent your rooms, not your doors. And there are others where the carpets are wearing in the front of them from a well trodden path. Where you can see that they're well-loved and well kept and behind those doors, are your comfort characters, waiting for you.

They wait for you there. They're so excited when they hear the front door open. They just know you're coming to them. They want to see how they'll fall in love. Or how you'll fall in love or how you'll meet again. They want to know the adventures you're going to have, the stories you're going to tell. They'll ask how your day was, what your fears are. They are ready and waiting for you. That's how I see Tumblr. I see the other readers and writers as fellow travelers in and out of doors. We pass each other, and we smile and wave. We may make a comment or two, but it's safe. Here it is the safest place we could be in. I don't know if everybody else uses Tumblr this way, but I feel like there's a lot of us. We come here looking for safety and comfort, acceptance and love, and things that we can't get from everyday life. So I just want you to know that every time you open those doors, your comfort character wakes up and is ready for you. They're waiting for you, and no matter what is going on in everyday life, they love you, and you are not alone.

You are worthy, you are important, you matter, and you are loved. If not by people in your everyday life, then by your comfort characters and by me. I adore you and I hope that you will do everything possible to stay. It's not a bad life, it's just a bad time right now. Things will get better. And no, it doesn't seem that way right now, but I was there. I was in that dark place and comfort characters were one of the only things that helped me, that kept me going. Please don't give up, we need you here. Your favorite author would realize when you stop reading or when you stop commenting, your readers would miss your writing.

I feel a need to keep doing these posts because i have a hope that each one helps at least one person and thats enough for me.

So I want you to take a deep breath, breathe in and out. Relax your shoulders, remove your tongue from where it's pressed to the roof of your mouth. Take a drink of water, and continue your scrolling.

You are important here. The world would be so much darker without you and I hope tomorrow is better than today. I hope you find the fan fiction you need. Whether it is enemies to lovers, found family, The one bed trope, A/B/O, whatever it is, I hope it helps. I hope you have a place to escape to and I hope you know you are safe here. If you need a friend, i am more than willing to be that friend I will listen. Tell me about your favorite fan fictions. Tell me about life, tell me about your family, tell me about anything you need. Enjoy your scrolling, dear one. I hope tonight or this morning or whenever youre reading this is better than yesterday. I hope this makes life a little easier. You matter. You are important You are loved.

Your comfort character believes in you and so do I, we will always believe in you, and I will always be a safe plan to land. From the very, very happy girl on tumblr who was once a very, very sad girl who thought the world Was a little too dark and a little too scary. Who almost gave up and who's so glad she didn't.

❤️💛True Believer ❤️💛

[punemy-spotted]

A Family Sleepover, Down in the Valley

It’s been about two years since I first wrote Dead Trees Like Lavender Fields, and the town of Bell’s Holler was born. I know it’s not quite the actual anniversary — I’m pretty sure that passed — but I want to celebrate anyway! I’ve missed the Valley, and I’ve missed y’all being a part of the Family. I’m excited to add more stories to the universe, talk lore and what-ifs, and in general get spooky with it. 

As such, from now until my birthday on August 19, 2023, I am opening up my inbox to all manner of Valley-related things, including the following:

Seven Sentence Somedays: Send em an ask with a fluffy, smutty, or hurt/comfort prompt of your choice + any CE, SebStan, or other character listed below. You might just get a lore drop or bring out hidden ideas for a Valley-related story!

Hainted Headcanons: Got questions about  the true name of Bell’s Holler or what it really means to be Green? Wanna know about your favorite Babe and who they are in the Valley — Agent of the Inner Dark, Guardian of the Gren, or somethin’ more besides? Curious about each story’s individual Reader and who they might be? Send an ask! Hainted Headcanons are more in-depth explorations of the world this Alternate Appalachia and the people living and shaping it.

Moodboard Minin’: If you know me, you know I love a good Moodboard and you know I love an excuse to make ‘em. Send me a request and I’ll put together a moodboard for a possible Valley-verse story, or even an alternate story for an existing Valley character!

Asks will be responded to on a rolling basis, to the best of my ability! Thank all of you for being here with me!

Current Members of the Valley-Verse

Steve Rogers — Glory, Amen

Bucky Barnes — Dead Trees like Lavender Fields

Sam Wilson — Company Property (TBA)

Ari Levinson — A Worthy Grave

Curtis Everett — Sixteen Tons (coming soon!)

Possible (Future) Members of the Valley-Verse

Charles Blackwood

Jake Jensen

Andy Barber

Lloyd Hansen

Ransom Drysdale

Helmut Zemo

Lee Bodecker

I’m tagging some moots who showed interest in the Valley-verse and associated fics, including my stalwart beloved @brandycranby. As always, I love you and thank you for being here!!!

Tagging: @iwannabekilledtwice; @boxofbonesfic; @wordywarriorwrites; @patzammit; @valhalla-kristin; @sanfransolomitatm; @professorrw; @chipilerendi; @biiskuitx; @hope-to-hell; @toozmanykids; @imanuglywombat; @caffiend-queen; @federalchickensoup; @mansaaay; @ccmarvelxx; @hallecarey1; @justile; @kuranes-12; @hotnmad;

[yanderemcu]

Yandere Charles Blackwood headcanoes

*Charles is dominant

*Charles is a possessive, isolating and insane yandere

*Charles love language is gifts

*Charles is 90% a yandere

*Charles uses hunny,love and princess as his pet names

*He is always touching you

*He leaves you alone instead of comforting you

*He wants 5 kids in the future

*Constance makes the meals

*Charles is straight

*Charles waits 2 years before proposing

*FAMILY PERFECT LIFE

*Charles likes the idea of a nice expensive dinner as his dream date

*Charles favorite spot to kiss you is your thighs

*Charles uses spanking as his punishment

*Charles is a brutal and ruthless killer

*Very possessive,dominant and controlling

*Lots of baths and sex

*Constance does all the housework

*FAMILY

Charles Blackwood-"You are mine hunny. "

[buckrecs]

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙬𝙤𝙤𝙙

masterlist | s.s characters masterlist

ONESHOT

Deflowering in the Garden by @sableseb

Charles has a taste for the finer things in life. But, the finest wines, the finest art, and the finest suits have nothing on the pretty little thing he spots from across the lawn. She’s in a floral dress that falls just above the knee. Hair down and messed around her soft features from the wind that seems to have picked up from the moment he laid his eyes on her. 

Boys in Bed with Books 3 by @jobean12-blog

You try on something new and want to show Charles. 

plastic smile by @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

Charles comes to town and you both fall for each other quickly.

acting like that by @/sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

You see Charles at a party flirting with another woman.

figured you out by @/sweetkingdomstarlight-blog

Charles comes home to find you in the hands of your bodyguard Chris.

Easily Repaired by @navybrat817

Convinced that Charles is cheating on you, you damage his precious car. When you realize your mistake, he decides to teach you a lesson.

the girl in the diner by @starbuckie

Dust To Dust by @boxofbonesfic

Your dream job turns out to be more of a nightmare.

SERIES

Like a Dream by @/jobean12-blog

Charles takes you to Italy.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tenure

A/N: This is yet another entry for @the-slumberparty​‘s Bingo. This time I’m mixing together three squares: Professor AU, Caught Redhanded and Enemies. Reader is female.

Warnings: Sexism, bullying, body shaming, workplace sexism

Being an adjunct professor in any field can be such difficult, but rewarding work. Especially if you’re able to get tenure. Today was definitely on the difficult side, made worse by Professor Charles Blackwood, your current competition for the one tenure position available in the department. Even before this the two of you were always at odds. He was a pretentious shit who insisted that your time would be better spent as a housewife, “if you could find a man to take pity on you.” It got so bad you even stopped bringing in baked goods to share because he’d always use them as evidence for his case. But you couldn’t afford to make waves or fight back. He had a rich family to fall back on, you couldn’t afford a blemish on your record. 

Today, he brought his friend from the literature department, Professor Drysdale, to use your shared office. Between the two of them, you heard more comments about your size in one hour than you had in an entire month. You tried to bury yourself in work, getting back with students, TA’s, researchers and co-authors. Headphones didn’t help since the conflicting noises of music and a conversation, while trying to focus on work, aggravated you in ways you couldn’t really describe. By the time they left, your jaw, shoulders and neck were all sore from how tense you’d become. Blackwood must be upping his taunting given that the tenure decision was in less than a week but you’d be damned if you let him break you so he could win.

After double checking some of your latest work, you stood up, stretched and refilled your water. You didn’t need to check the time since Curtis, the custodian for your building, was working and that tells you it’s way late and you should be home. You smile and wave at Curtis and he nods in your direction. You quickly run back to your office and grab a couple of cookies you’d brought in for him. You might not bring in baked goods for the department, but you’ll happily still share with a friend. 

Well, maybe “friend” was too strong. You shared some food and smiled at him but all you ever really got was an appreciative grunt and an occasional “thank you” note left on your desk. You figured he just wanted to do his job and go home, something you could definitely respect. It can’t be easy, or enjoyable, cleaning up after college students for a living. Still, you hated hoarding your baked goods and Curtis was safe enough to share with. At the very least, he never told you to give up your work.

“I hope you like them,” you said as you handed him a small bag of cookies. “It’s a new recipe and I’d love to hear if they’re actually good or if it’s just me.” Curtis put the bag in his pack and nodded. Sensing you weren’t going to get anything else from him, you turned and went back to your office.

The day of the decision comes faster than you expected. Blackwood had Drysdale visit him often and the resulting stress was affecting everything in your life. You’d even burned a batch of cookies for the first time in years. You thought you were hiding the stress well, no one seemed to comment, but you did notice Curtis was actually checking in on you. For others it would likely be a small gesture but to you, it was everything you needed to keep going without crying.

You and Blackwood are in your shared office when you both receive your emails. You get two sentences in before you read, “we’ve decided to go with Prof. Blackwood for the position.” You feel so defeated, deflated and defective. You don’t bother looking at Blackwood, knowing he’s wearing his smug smirk and watching for you to start crying. 

“I told you,” Blackwood sneered, “you shouldn’t be here. You need to find yourself a blind husband and just focus on your domestic skills.”

“Please, just leave me alone,” you whisper. “You’ve won. You don’t need to bother yourself with me any more.”

“I could always offer you a consolation prize.”

“I want nothing from you other than to leave me alone.”

“But you’re so much fun to poke at! You never strike back and it makes me even more eager to be the one that finally breaks your resolve. The one that gets to finally see your tears, to earn your tears.”

“Charles, I’m too tired to give you what you want. If you aren’t going to leave me alone, I’ll just go ahead and head out for the day.” You start to pack up your work and Blackwood almost looks like he’s going to throw a fit.

“No, you will not!” He stands up, using his height to stare down at you and look more menacing. “This is my victory and I will have my prize! Now cry for me like the good girl you are.”

“Ahem…” you hear a fake cough at the door and turn to see Curtis standing there, with his phone out, very clearly recording the interaction. You turn back to Blackwood and see him go pale before he starts walking towards Curtis.

“You’re going to delete that video,” Blackwood orders. “I’m a tenured professor with connections and I will have your job otherwise!”

Curtis doesn’t move and you see the corners of his mouth turn up into an almost smile. The much larger man doesn’t put away the phone and replies, “I’m the Custodian, I’ve got dirt on everyone. And that includes those connections you used to get that tenure.” Blackwood stops his advance and you see him practically vibrating with rage, or maybe it’s fear. “Now apologize to the lady.”

“That’s not needed,” you interject. “I know it wouldn’t be sincere.”

“Want me to get him to turn down the job? I can do that in a few ways.”

“No, but thank you, very much.” Part of you enjoys talking about Blackwood as if he wasn’t there. “If I were to take the job I’d have to keep watching my back because they’d get rid of me or treat me like shit at every turn.”

Curtis finally puts away his phone, walks past Blackwood and holds out his hand to you. “I’m gonna miss you, but I respect your decision.” You shake his hand and give him a tired smile. “With your permission,” he continues, “I’d like to keep an eye on you until you leave. Make sure this one doesn’t keep bothering you.” He points to Blackwood who still looks to be in a state of shock. 

“I’d really appreciate that, Curtis. Thank you.”

It’s been several years since then and you’ve really found your place, professionally and (if things with the cute, muscular IT guy keep going well) personally. You’re hard at work setting up the syllabus for next semester when you get a phone call.

“Hello, this is Y/N Y/L/N. How may I help you?”

“Hello Prof. Y/L/N, this is Dean Vernon at Mathematics And and Research Sciences University. I’m calling about a reference.”

“Oh, okay. Would you please tell me who listed me?” You’re not surprised at the call, several of your former students have put you down as a reference and you’re happy to support them.

“It’s Professor Charles Blackwood,” Dean Vernon responded. “He’s applying for an adjunct professorship with us.”

Your mouth drops and you’re quiet for so long Dean Vernon asks, “are you still there?”

“Yes,” you snap out of your shock, “yes, I’m just surprised is all. Last I saw him, he had just gotten tenure.”

“Well that’s part of why I’m calling,” Vernon continued. “Per his credentials, he really should be in a better position. Can you tell me about your experience working with him?”

You chuckle quietly at the incredible position you find yourself in. You allow yourself to smile wide and tell him, “if you hire Professor Blackwood, you are opening yourself up to a lot of lawsuits. Last I saw him, he was trying to make me cry for the fun of it. I can only think that he listed me as a reference because he thought I’d still act like I was under his thumb. Thankfully, I’m not and can warn you not to hire him. Keep your own employees safe and do. Not. Hire. Him.”

The phone is quiet for a bit before Dean Vernon says, “thank you for the information” and hangs up. The rest of your day is spent with a big smile on your face.

A/N2: please let me know if you found the Futurama reference.

[georgiapeach30513]

Misguided Ghosts, Part 7

Summary:  It’s time for little Rosewyn Penelope Jensen

Pairings:  Jake Jensen X Reader, Jake Jensen X Charles Blackwood

Rating:  mature

Warnings:  language, childbirth, mentions of going mad, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2.5K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Strawberries.  It’s all your little Rosewyn wanted to eat.  Strawberry anything.  Jake had made sure that there was a fresh stock of strawberry ice cream, strawberry yogurt, strawberry lollipops, strawberry wafers, strawberry Kit Kats, strawberry jam, strawberry preserves, and of course all the strawberries you could want.  Varying different sizes, and colors, and something called pine berries that definitely looked like pink strawberries to you.  Rosewyn Penelope loved those the most.

You stop your cutting of the pine berries to rub over your belly, “You better quit it,” you warn her.  “I know you want a bite to eat, but if you don’t stop hurting mommy, you’re not getting anything,” your little angel quits kicking for a moment, and you pop one of the pink berries into your mouth.

“I’m making a strawberry, er, pine berry pie for us for tonight’s dessert.  We’ll have some whipped cream, and…oh,” you grab at your stomach again, “Rosewyn, darling, please, the oven is nearly preheated.”

She won’t talk to you, ya know? Charles rolls his eyes, but still watches you curiously.  There was a beauty to the way you moved around with just you and your bump.  You loved the thought of being pregnant.  Adored her already.  I just don’t understand why you do the things you do.  Even when she comes out of you, she’ll be dumb.

Your head perks up, and you turn to look behind you, staring directly at Charles who freezes.  Did you hear me?  Rosewyn, I apologize, but babies are dumb.

Taking a deep breath, because you felt yourself going crazy in this house.  You swore you heard something.  You start humming Brahms lullaby, ignoring whatever it was you heard.  You have heard more voices since being pregnant.  More reason to think you and Jake weren’t alone.  That portrait had to go.  You didn’t care if it was burned or taken to a museum, he had to go.  

“Ugh,” you squeeze at your stomach again, slamming the knife on the counter, “Little lady if you don’t…oh shit,” trickles of liquid start drifting down your leg, and your lip starts to tremble.  “J-J-Jake,” you squeak out, knowing that there was no way that he heard that.  “Shit, ahh!” Crumpling up from the pain that lights up your body.

Charles stares at you dumbfounded for a moment, about to curse you for peeing on the floor.  Oh shit! Your water broke.

“I’m seriously going crazy.  Ahh!” You scream, starting to sink to the floor.

Jake!  Jacob Jensen! Charles jumps from the counter, ready to find your boyfriend who was still sleeping away.

“I wanted to surprise, daddy!” You cry out, getting upset that the pie was most definitely put on hold.  “Rosewyn, you love the pink strawberries.”

“Jake!” Charles materializes, starting to shake Jake awake.  “Jacob!”

“Only my mother calls me that,” he mumbles, flopping over on the other side.  “Go away.  I’m mad at you.”

“Be mad, but,” he didn’t have to say anything when you scream again, and Jake jolts awake on the bed.  “Yeah, she’s in labor.”

“You could have said something.  Damn…how long?”

“That mucus plug you two were talking about is in my kitchen.”

“Really?  You’re going to complain about something like that?” Jake asks, grabbing at his glasses.  “These are dirty.”

“Jake!  Jake, I think the baby is coming!”

“Damn.  Shit!  Fuck!  Asshole,” he points a finger at Charles.  “I’m putting clothes on!  Uh,” Jake didn’t have time to think as he grabs up what he wore yesterday, and Charles turns up his nose, “I’ve got clothes in the bag beside the door…did I put it beside the door?  Is it in the car?  In the closet?”

“That monstrosity of yours, hers, and my daughter’s clothes is beside the door.  You tripped over it, remember?  Because it’s too big.  Why do you need so many things?” Jake nods his head, slipping on some boots, without tying them.  “Wait?”

“A baby is going to be coming out of my girlfriend, and you’re asking me to wait?  Seriously?  Timing, dude.”

“I’m not your dude.  I just…” Jake’s eyes go wide, urging Charles to hurry with whatever he was wanting to ask, “Can I try and enter your body, and leave?  There is a strong possibility she’s mine or at least both of ours.  I want to be there.”

“Huh?”

“I know I’m an ass.”

“Yeah, threatening us.  That’s my girlfriend, and my daughter, and you…you’re a meanie.”

“Jake!  Hurry!”

“But I did help you land your girl, I should be there.  I want to be there, and it might not even work,” staring with an irritated face, Jake holds his hands open wide, lifting his head to the ceiling.  “Is this an invitation?”

“Are you a vampire?  You have my permission to enter my body.”

“Jake!” You growl as Charles steps into Jake’s body, and Jake runs down the stairs, and into the kitchen where you were doubled over, trying to breathe steadily.  “What.  The.  Hell.  Took you so long?”

“I was…breathing?” You look up at him, and if looks could kill, Jake would be as dead as Charles.  “I’m sorry, I’m kind of a…new man right now, and…wow, honey, you were making us a pine berry pie?  Rosewyn would have been so happy.”

“Rosewyn is clawing her way out of my vagina.”

“Really?” He quips; his voice going up an octave.

“No, not really.  But your daughter is also…ugh…” your eyes roll into the back of your head, as you grunt through the contraction.  “She’s impatient Jake…can we?”

“Yeah, right.  Right…oh can I look?” Your head jerks up to look at him so fast, and you curl your lip up at him.  “Like, am I allowed to look when she’s playing peek-a-boo with your vagina?”

“Are you going to fuck me again?” You ask, directing Jake to walk you out the door.

Why would you want to see that?

“I like seeing your cunt stretched out,” he shrugs.

I worry about you.  This is weird.

“It’s not weird.  It’s beautiful.  Sometimes it’s sexual, but this is beautiful.  Our daughter is going to be squeezing out of your vagina.  Yes, I’ll continue to have sex with you, Giggles, I’ve wanted this since we became friends.”

“You have?” You sweetly ask, stopping just to look up at him.  He nods, smiling and gives you a kiss, “Jake, we’re about to be….ah!  We gotta go.  Let’s go.”

“Wish us luck,” Jake mumbles, hoping that he doesn’t feel Charles get jerked out of his body after he walks out of the house.  Or leaves the property.  Or…Jake wasn’t exactly sure where Charles was going to be cut off.  He was thankful that for once Charles was quiet.  Letting Jake fully be present with you.

He tries to flip his eyes to the back of his head, wondering if he could spy Charles.  Would he know if he was still even with him?  Would Rosewyn pop out of your body, and she glowed like how Charles sometimes did?  He was starting to worry.  He had too many questions.

“Yes!” Charles screams through Jake’s voice, and both you and Jake jolt at the scream.  You turn to look at him confused, as he straightens the car back out.

Sorry.  Just thought I’d let you know, I’m still very much present.  And I wasn’t poofed back into my chair.  Is it because that really is my daughter and I’m able to be with her.

Could you enter into the baby?

What?

“Well, wouldn’t it be neat to feel birth as a baby, but you were conscious as an adult,” trying to breathe through another contraction, you glare at Jake.  “I mean, imagine seeing the vagina from the inside out.”

“Our baby is not interested in my vagina, Jake!”

“Oh,” he sheepishly says, apologizing to you.  “I’m going to drive a bit faster.”

You’re an idiot.  I’m not going to enter into the baby.  It’s gross.  The only part of me I want in her pussy is my fingers, my tongue, or my fat cock.

Or just use me to fuck her while she’s awake.

Are you ever going to tell her?

Are you?

Both men sit quietly, and Jake offers his hand over to you, and you grab it immediately.  Squeezing the life out of his hand, while he grimaces.  He didn’t even know what pain was.  Didn’t know that you were enduring this for your precious angel.

Is she going to glow?

Who?

The baby.  Let’s say the baby is in fact yours or at least a mix of us, will she glow?

I have no clue.  I’ve never done this or even know if it’s possible.  I saw her looking like a fucking goddess and she was flirting with my portrait, and I wanted to fuck her.  Mid fuck I got the bright idea of knocking her up, and then YOU came into the picture.  You were never meant to be there.

But…you have no idea what you’re doing?  What if there’s like ghost STIs or…

I don’t have a disease!  My cock is clean.

But…you just…you don’t know what you’re doing, and you’re testing out a theory.

That’s how all good scientists do their research.

Are you a scientist?

No.

I hate you.

I abhor you as well.

“Jake!  Slow down, there’s the entrance to the damn hospital!  Jake, are you freaking out because you’re about to be a dad?” You were starting to get worried.  He was so distracted.  It was weird, and made you nervous.

No, he’s just having a conversation with me in his head.  Maybe I’m not even really here.  Maybe you have descended into madness, and this is all a figment of your imagination.

“I’m so happy about being parents, and more happy because it’s with you.  Our Rosewyn Penelope Jensen is going to be so spoiled,” and I hate you!

Ehh, I do think you really have gone mad.

“Oh, she’s…she’s giving birth right now,” the doctor lifts up your blanket, giving an awkward laugh up to you and Jake.  “You weren’t lying dad.  Look,” he smiles back at a nurse pointing towards you, “Hair.”

“Could you maybe fucking deliver our baby?”

“No need to cuss dad.  We gotta wait on a contraction.  Yep.  There it is,” you hated this place.  The doctor was a fucking weirdo.  The nurses even looked at him like he was a pariah in his own hospital.  They were disgusted by the way he was acting.  “Dad, you want to watch?”

You give him a head nod as he steps down to you.  His eyebrows go to the top of his head, and he looks back up with an awkward grin, “You feel that?”

“I feel everything,” you groan, pushing again.  “Is she out yet?” You pant, getting a moment of rest while you wait.  And here comes another one.

“She’s…uh, that’s my baby’s head.  Oh!  Giggles, keep going, baby.  Keep…oh,” he looks up at you confused.  And then back down to the doctor fully pulling Rosewyn out of you.

“She’s not crying.  Jake, why isn’t crying?  Is there something wrong with my baby,” the tears of pain were now worried cries, but then you see her fingers start to bend, “Why isn’t she crying?”

“She’s breathing,” Charles makes Jake turn to glare at the doctor.  He had kept his eyes closed inside of Jake.  He didn’t need to see you pushing out a baby.  But then the doctor brought up the fact she was breathing.  She looked a little blue to him.  Blue meant ghostling.  He was sure of that.  “She’s just…she’s very calm.  Rosewyn.”

“Don’t you pinch my baby!” Jake screams at him, ready to grab the baby and hold her close to his chest.

“I squeezed her arm,” he gives Jake a shrug, and looks over at you, “Overprotective dad, am I right?  So…you guys live at Blackwood Manor?”

“It’s a castle!” Charles shouts through Jake, and Jake retches.  

Man stop doing that.  It’s making me sick.

“Yeah…so is that where you two live?”

“Can you give me my baby!” What was wrong with this man?  You just wanted to hold your daughter, and he was asking about where you lived.  “Once I have her, then we can discuss my place of living.”

“Doctor, the baby, she needs her mom,” a nurse looks between you and the doctor.  “The mother and baby need each other.”

“Oh, yeah.  Won’t have to pinch her anymore.  You got a, um,” he stops talking long enough for the nurse to get you situated.  “Yeah, uh…my mom always told me that my dad was the illegitimate son of Charles Blackwood.”

What did he just say?

“For real?  Like, you’ve got Blackwood blood in you?  That creepy…handsome portrait of Charles is in our formal living room,” you couldn’t stop staring at this precious baby.  Her eyes blink up at you, and you can't stop your tears.  She was perfect.  So soft, so beautiful, and she was yours and Jake’s.

“That’s the rumor.  Oh, here comes the after birth.”

Please, don’t watch that.

I’m going to watch my baby.

“Jake,” you whine, picking up your daughter who was wide eyed and sight looking around the room.  “She never cries.  Have you heard her cry?”

“No.”

Because she’s a ghostling.  You see a bit of blue in her skin color?  Haunting blue.

“She’s fine,” he squeaks, reaching out to hold her.  “Are you sleeping?”

“No,” you admit.  You couldn’t relax.  “I’m afraid that she’ll starve to death.  Am I nursing her too much?  And then I think she’s always got a dirty diaper, but she just doesn’t cry.  She doesn’t whine, doesn’t make a peep.  And…something is wrong.  Rosewyn, won’t you cry for mommy?”

Oh, my god, Charles rolls his eyes.  He walks over to Jake, leaning over Rosewyn, and she sneezes.  Looking directly at him, before her mouth turns up into a smile.  Most parents would kill to be in your position.  A baby that never cries sounds like a walk in the park.  And she smiles at me.

“I just feel that there’s something wrong with her.”

“She doesn't look blue,” Jake says too loudly.  “She’s perfect.  Look at her.  She’s a little princess.  No!  A little angel.”

A little ghost.

“A perfect little angel,” he repeats, pulling you over onto his arms.  “And I got the best girls in the world.”

And you're the best delusional step father I’ve ever met.  Have you figured out if I’m a ghost or if you’re just going crazy?  It’s kinda funny to get into your thoughts, replying to everything.  Maybe Jakey Jakey is a bit crazy?  Haha…you don’t even know what is real.

“She’s real, Giggles.  And she’s really ours.”

You’re going to pretend I don’t exist now aren’t you?  Have me in your thoughts for the rest of your life.  But ignore me.  Ignore my every word as you sink further into your darkness.  Your little blue tinted baby that’s really mine, saw me.  Do you even know what’s real anymore?  Are you even here?  Is she even here?  Have you created this reality because you couldn’t face the real one?  Weren’t you captured in war?  Can you be sure what’s real?

“I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted.  Right in my arms.”

Live in denial.  You and I both know what’s really going on here, don’t we?  

Don’t we?

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season​ @marveloustaylortot​ @sstan-hoe​ @infatuatedharleys​ @peaches1958​ @pono-pura-vida​ @feyfantome​ @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ @seitmai​ @stronginawayjbb​ @smile1318​ @avengersalways​ @toozmanykids​ @elrw24​ @lavender-annd-lilac​ @xcaptain-winterx​ @redbloodedgurl​ @andydrysdalerogers​ @bambamwolf87​ @cjand10​

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hi

could I please request a Charles Blackwood fic where the reader is his rlly shy and innocent neighbor who has a secret crush on him. But.. PLOT TWIST: he has the BIGGEST crush on her and will find any excuse to talk to her. (maybe some smut also…?)

I know this is pretty vague but I thought I’d leave it up to you bc you’re very talented at writing. Absolutely no pressure tho xx

Sweet » Charles Blackwood

Pairings: Charles Blackwood x Shy/Innocent/Neighbor!Female Reader

Summary: You have a secret crush on Charles and little do you know that he has a crush on you.

Warnings: mix of Fluff and Smut (18+), language, flirting, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, praise kink, use of pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Ever since you moved in next door to Charles, he immediately felt a connection between the two of you. He did anything just to talk and hangout with you. He helped you take boxes inside of your house when you moved in. He helps you with the simplest things. Like planting flowers. He also helps you carry your groceries inside and helps you with your yard work, especially mowing the grass which is what he’s doing today.

“All done mowing the grass?” You asked as he took a seat on your porch swing.

“Yep.” Charles answers with a smile.

“I bet you’re hot after being in the sun for that long. Are you thirsty? I made lemonade while you were mowing the grass.” You say sweetly.

“I would love some, darling.” He says.

You couldn’t help but blush when he called you darling. You’ve known him for almost a year and you’re still shy around him. You went inside to the kitchen and poured him a glass of lemonade. You jumped when you felt a hand on your lower back.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Charles chuckles.

“I-It’s ok.” You shyly stuttered. “Here you go.” You say, handing him a glass of lemonade.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He says, taking the glass from your hand.

A hum of satisfaction left his lips when he tasted the lemonade.

“Mmm, this is really sweet. I love it.” He says, taking another sip of it.

“Thank you.” You say with a smile.

Charles put the glass cup on the kitchen counter and took in your appearance. You were wearing a yellow Summer dress with purple flowers on it.

“I bet you’re sweeter.” Charles says, licking his lips.

“Wh-What?” You asked.

“Your lemonade is sweet, but I bet you taste sweeter.” He says, his voice low.

You stood with your back against the edge of the counter as Charles walked closer to you. Due to yours and his height difference, he was looking down at you. A shiver went through your body when he placed his hand on your waist and his other hand on your cheek, gently caressing it. He looked deep in your eyes before leaning in and kissed you passionately. You moaned against his lips, loving the feeling of his lips on yours. Charles hand left your waist and slowly made its way downward and underneath your dress. You gasped when you felt his hand against your thigh. His hand inched its way up to your soft white cotton panties. He fingers rubbed your pussy through your wet panties, making you whine. His other hand left your cheek and disappeared underneath your dress. Charles hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs, putting them in his front pocket.

“Wh-What are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m gonna taste your sweetness, sweetheart.” Charles says huskily.

He swiped his fingers in between your folds, collecting your slick, making you gasp at the feeling. A tingling sensation went through your body when he began to rub your clit in circles. You’ve never felt anything like this before and honestly, you like it, but you’re too shy to admit it. He slid a finger in your tight pussy, making you whimper when his one finger stretched your pussy.

“There you go.” He coos, kissing along your neck. “You think you can take another finger?” He asks softly.

You nodded your head yes, too shy to say anything. Charles slid another finger in your pussy, beside his other one. He began moving them in and out of you at a steady pace while his thumb rubbed your clit. Your hands grasped the edge of the counter to steady yourself. His fingers moved faster. Moans left your lips. Your moans were like music to Charles’s ears.

“You make pretty noises, sweetie.” He says against your neck.

You gasped when you felt his teeth bite your skin hard enough to create a hickey. He repeated that same action on the other side of your neck before leaving a hickey on both of your collarbones. Your cunt squeezed around his fingers every time his teeth bit on your skin. Charles moves his head back to get a good look at the hickeys he created on your skin and smirked to himself. He watched as your jaw dropped and your chest rose and fell, breathing heavily. He curled his fingers in your pussy, hitting your sweet spot perfectly.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned loudly.

“Did I find your little spot, sweet girl?” Charles asks, biting his bottom lip.

“Yes!” You gasped, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Whatever you’re doing, please don’t stop!” You say.

Charles bunched your dress up above your hips, watching with hungry eyes as his fingers disappeared in and out of your pussy each other he thrusted them in you. You bucked your hips against his hand every time his fingers curled against your sweet spot. You glanced down at where his hand is, watching as his fingers thrusted in your pussy, wet with your slick.

“You like that, sweetheart? Does that feel good?” Charles asks.

You nodded your head yes, unable to form coherent words. Only moans and his name left your lips. Your moans and his name leaving your lips encouraged him to move his fingers impossibly faster, hitting your sweet spot every single time while his thumb applied more pressure on your clit as he continued to rub it. You squeezed your eyes shut, beginning to feel overwhelmed with the pleasure.

“Charles!” You gasped, grabbing his arm when you felt a tightening in your lower abdomen. “I-I feel something!” You stuttered. “I-I don’t know wh-what it is.” You say, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“You’re going to cum, darling.” He tells you. “Cum for me when you’re ready.” He says softly and huskily.

Your eyes fluttered shut. His fingers curled against your sweet spot one last time as you came hard on his fingers, a loud moan left your lips. Charles gave your clit one last rub before pulling his fingers out of your pussy, making you whine. Charles licked your release off his fingers, moaning at your taste.

“You taste as sweet as your lemonade.” Charles says with a smirk, making you turn your head away shyly.

Charles turned your head back towards him and kissed you hungrily and passionately.

“I want your sweetness on my cock.” He says in almost a whisper against your lips before taking you to your bedroom to do just that.

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

-Bucky’s Doll

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Two of a Kind 6

Masterlist

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; manipulation; criminal behaviour; cumplay/creampie, talk of contraception; written for smut, just being honest. Not all elements will be tagged/warned.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features dark!Ransom Drysdale and dark!Modern Charles Blackwood. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Ransom and Charles are partner’s in crime but they’re looking for some pleasure after years of business.

Note: This was in my head last night.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya.

You whimper as you take in the sight of Ransom’s naked torso. The thick muscles that line his stomach and curve his chest fill you with dread. There is no escape from him or the man behind you.

Charles drags you up the couch and leans your back against his naked body. You feel him twitch lower down as you squirm and curl your arms back to grasp his shoulders. Ransom lift one of your legs and Charles hooks his hand under your knee, your other quickly propped up in a similar fashion.

Charles holds you like that, your cunt exposed to the room as Ransom once more buries his hands against it. He rubs your folds, flicking up to your clit and back down. He raises himself on your knees and frames your hip with his other hand. He angles you as the other man helps keep you in place.

You squirm and squeal as you look down in horror. Time seems to slow as you watch Ransom drag his tip up and down your cunt, spreading your wetness down his length. You feel Charles growing rigid beneath you as his breath puff into your hair.

Ransom slides his swollen head to your entrance and you hold that air inside your chest. You dig your nails into Charles’ round muscle and whine. Slowly, you stretch around Ransom’s intrusion. Your tears spill out as you watch him enter you, inch by inch.

Charles snakes his arm around you and feels along your pelvis. He dips his fingers down to your clit, toying with you as Ransom delves in further, rocking back then in again, breaking through the last of your resistance. You murmur as your eyes roll back and you tilt your head over Charles’ shoulder.

“Look at you, baby,” Charles’ purrs, “you’re taking him so good.”

Ransom keeps his hand around your hip as Charles’ other mirrors him. They brace you tightly, moving you in a rhythm until you’re filled to the breaking point. You heave your walls thrumming hotly as fingers dance on your clit, stirring pleasure around the dull pain.

Ransom sinks to his limit, nearly crushing Charles’ hand as he puffs out a growl. He ruts again, snapping his pelvis as he watches you spasm. You whimper and moan as he fucks you without relent. Your skin speckles with scalding sweat as their heat consumes you.

“That’s it, baby, hmm?” Charles presses his lips to your temple, “you like that?”

You groan and pout. Your lashes flutter as another deluge of tears overflows. You cling to Charles as you try to ease the pressure of each stroke.

“Please…” you beg, “...hurts.”

“Ah, baby, I know,” he speaks against your hairline, “it’s gonna. It has to, hm, if you’re gonna learn to be a good girl.”

Ransom slams into you hard. You yelp and hook your arm around Charles’ neck. Charles tuts and keeps his fingers rolling around your clit as he wraps his other arm around your middle. He snarls as he bends his head down, his breath tingeing your cheek.

“Fuck, look at that, baby, look at how you take him,” he taunts, “that pretty little cunt just opens right up to him, doesn’t it?”

“Nnghh,” you let out the strange gurgle and look away, weakly cradled against Charles as Ransom fucks you harder and harder.

“Come on, baby, cum for me,” Charles’ growls, “I know you can. You’re gonna cum all over his dick, aren’t you?”

You sniffle and clamp your lips together. Your walls squeeze around Ransom as his hand claps over your chest, clumsily fondly your tit. You push your hand against his muscled stomach as you try to slow him, Charles’ touch twisting the screw tighter and tighter.

“Fuck, I feel it,” Ransom snarls, “I feel her…” he grunts and fucks you harder, “almost–”

You buck as your nerves flicker and flash. Your eyes roll back behind the lids and you gasp through the orgasm that coils around you, crawling up your spine and tingling in your thighs. You quiver as you’re crushed in the tide of your own tortured delight.

“Pathetic little slut, isn’t she?” Ransom tweaks your nipple, “go on, hold her head up for me.”

Ransom eases out of you with a suppressed hiss. Your lashes part slightly, the room hazy as Charles smears your cum up your stomach and brings his fingers around your chin. He pulls your head straight as Ransom steps up onto the couch and pumps himself over you.

Ransom pushes his tip against your lower lip, causing it to dip as his hand moves frantically. He grunts and cups his balls as his stomach clenches. 

A sudden spurt of heat flows from him along with a strangled cry. His cum strings across your lips, seeping inside your mouth and dripping down your chin. Charles brings his fingers up to the mess and shoves more into your mouth, stroking your tongue until the saltiness stains your tastebuds.

You shudder as Charles slips his fingers free and Ransom hops off the couch. He’s nonchalant as he struts and looks down at his dick. Still hard as it stands against his stomach. You notice how it twitches and it makes you feel squishy inside.

Charles lays you down on the couch as he gets up. He’s hard too. He stands facing the couch and gently rolls you onto your stomach. You groan as he brushes his hand along the curve of your back and lingers on your ass.

“You going to be good for me, too, baby?” He asks as he tickles down your thigh.

You can say nothing. Even if you scream out, you know they won’t stop. He snickers and pushes your legs apart. He climbs between them on his knees and frames your hips. He tilts your pelvis, his fingertips curling into you.

“Hold just like that, baby,” he squeezes and slowly releases you.

You strain to keep the angle as he caresses your ass, sending goosebumps across your skin. He glides his fingers down the curve of your flesh and pokes along your entrance. You bite your lip as he dips a finger into you, then back out, your slickness coating him.

Ransom’s knee startles you as he props it up against the armrest, not far from your head. He looms over you as Charles pulls his finger free and guides his tips into its place. Charles lingers along the outside of your cunt, once more grasping your hip.

“You always gotta take your fucking time,” Ransom sneers.

“She’s a sweet little thing,” Charles hums and eases into you. You babble as he does and Ransom chuckles over you, “I wanna enjoy it.”

He sinks into you, lifting himself slightly and moving his knees over your legs as he brings them together. He stays inside of you as your thighs are pushed flush around him. Your walls throb around him as he rocks into you.

“Mmm, you’re right, she’s so tight,” Charles’ says as he drags his hand up to your back, pinning you firmly to the cushion, “fuck, baby,” he latches onto your shoulder and pets your head with his other hand, “you feel so good…”

“Probably shoulda grabbed rubbers,” Ransom says in a bored tone. As your eyes flit up to him, your cheek stuck to the couch, he plays with his length, coaxing it from flaccid with lazy strokes, “girl like her, I doubt she’s on anything.”

“Fuck, you’re supposed to… check,” Charles huffs as he speeds up.

“Who cares?” Ransom leans heavier on the armrest, “pussy like that deserves to be filled up.”

Charles grunts in response as he carries his steady tempo, pelvis slapping against your ass. 

You moan and turn your head, hiding your face in the couch, away from them, away from the world. The way they use you, the way they talk about you; like an object, like you’re not even there, it pierces your heart and leaves you weak and weeping.

“Aw, baby,” Charles pulls his hands back to grip your waist, “you feel what you do to me.”

“Yeah, like that,” Ransom goads, “damn, her ass is nice.”

“Goddamn, I don’t think I can hold it–” Charles chokes and his motion turns wild. He shakes as he jerks into you, harsh and deep. A warmth spreads through you and slickens his slowing strokes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Show me her face,” Ransom demands, “I’m right there–”

Your hair is bunched in a fist and your head twisted to the side. Hot ribbons spew across your cheek to your temple as you keep your eyes shut. Ransom puffs and growls as he cums again, ending in a heavy snarl as the couch creaks against his weight.

“Ah, fuck, my dick hurts,” he seems more amused than genuinely pained.

“Shit,” Charles pushes himself up, sliding inch by inch out of you. He moves back as he parts your legs and you feel his cum trickle out, “I made a mess.”

“Whatever, they got pills for that, don’t they?”

“Mmm, yeah, but… we’re smarter than this, Drysdale.”

“Whatever,” Ransom snorts, “not my problem. Send her back to her mother knocked up. Might be funny.”

You sniff and shake as you bring your hand to your face, wiping away the slimy mess there, “please,” you quaver, “I can’t… I can’t have a baby.”

“Shh, shh,” Charles’ weight jostles you as he gets off the couch. He comes around to angle you onto your side and he bends his knees as touches your shoulder gently, “baby, it’s alright. Don’t listen to him. I’ll take care of you.”

“Drop her off with some Plan B,” Ransom says over the flick of a lighter.  

You whimper and whine pathetically as you bend your legs and hug your chest, “I’m scared.”

“You don’t need to be,” Charles rubs your arm, “Ransom, shut the fuck up, alright?”

Ransom scoffs as you watch him through the wall of tears. He puffs on a thick cigar, the smoke stinky and thick. You wiggle your nose as you continue to try to wipe away his cum. All you can feel is them, all over you, inside of you.

“How about a nice bath, baby?” Charles coaxes.

“Let her fucking sit in it,” Ransom taunts, “it’s fucking hot.”

“Enough,” Charles snaps as his hand trails down to your neck, “you did good, baby, didn’t you? But I need you to be good and get up for me, okay?”

You shakily swipe the back of your hand across your nose and nod. He helps you sit up and you wince as your pussy touches the couch. You drop a hand down to your pelvis and whine. Your head is spinning and the room is distorted.

“Please,” you bat your eyes meekly as the afterglow fades to cruel agony, “can I please have a bath?”

[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕰𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝕲𝖔 𝕮𝖔𝖑𝖉

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟺 - 𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚛. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜 𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎.

𝙰𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚡𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚢.

𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚌𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎.