#Charles Blackwood x you

[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."

[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕾𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕰𝖞𝖊𝖘 𝕲𝖔 𝕮𝖔𝖑𝖉

𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝙱𝚕��𝚌𝚔𝚠𝚘𝚘𝚍

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚛. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚛���𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚢 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.

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.

[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;

[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.

[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​

[theinheriteddutchess]

Wait m another year? Does that mean he gets a different woman every year or did I misunderstood? Because we didn't go through all that just to be discarded! 😡

This is deliciously dark and twisted.

Run, Little Bunny

Pairing: Charles Blackwood X Reader Summary: A night at the Hollywood Haunted House spells trouble for you and your friend when you encounter Charles Blackwood.  Word Count: Almost 4k Warnings: Rape/Non-Con (do NOT read if this upsets you!), explicit sexual content, OC character death. Please read responsibly. 18+ Please!!! This is not beta-read, so any and all mistakes are my own!

A late addition to @jtargaryen18​​‘s Haunted House 2020! This is my first Charles Blackwood fic and changes have been made to fit this fic. I hope you all enjoy! Divider by @whimsicalrogers

“How did you manage to get these tickets again?" 

"A gentleman never reveals his secrets,” Josh teased with a wink. “I just kept refreshing the page.”

The Hollywood Haunted House became an overnight success when it opened a few years ago. Each year, the owner carefully selected and replicated a famous “haunted” house from the big screen. This year, they chose to recreate Blackwood Manor from We Have Always Lived in the Castle. The tickets sold out months ago. It was no wonder. Sebastian Stan agreed to appear, thanks to his performance as Charles Blackwood. And it was for one night, Halloween.

Lees verder

[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 ❤️💛

[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. "

[late-to-the-party-81]

Thanks for reading and reblogging 🥰

It can’t rain all the time

A/N: this is my entry for @boxofbonesfic and @darkficsyouneveraskedfor Triple D challenge. It was supposed to be a smutty one shot. It turned into a 7k story with angst and fluff before the smut. It is the longest one shot I’ve ever written. Oh well!!

It goes without saying that minors should not read this! And please, read the warnings!!

Beta’d by the lovely @sgt-seabass

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Pairings: Reader x Ex Husband!Charles Blackwood, Reader x Frank Castle

Word count: approx 7k

CW: Gaslighting, Emotional manipulation, Financial manipulation, Domestic Violence, Rape (mentioned but not described in detail), Assault, minor injury, minor first aid, sharing a bed, breast/chest worship, marking, face sitting, PinV sex, Soft Pleasure Dom! Frank Castle, Protective!Frank Castle (he’s a warning), fluff and angst.

“You’ll be back baby and you know it! Ain’t gonna find anyone else that’s as good as me, ya hear! I’m talking to you, bitch!”

You hurried down the street with as much aplomb as you could muster, considering you were dragging a suitcase, carrying a holdall and your absolute cretin of a husband, hopefully soon to be ex, was shouting at you from the doorway of the brownstone that had been your home for the last two years. You saw the neighbours peering out of the windows and passers-by suddenly looking in other directions as you hurried through the sheeting rain.

With everything you were carrying you couldn’t manage an umbrella as well, so by the time you made it two blocks away, out of his sight, and raised your hand to hail a cab, you were drenched. Then, because the universe had a perverse sense of humour, or because it was raining, all of those in sight already had passengers. You tried to shelter under one of the cultivated trees on the sidewalk, sticking your arm out in vain at every passing flash of yellow. As the rain beat down, you wondered, how had it got to this?

You’d met your husband, Charles, three years ago, when he’d had a business meeting with one of the managers of the company you worked at. He was charming and charismatic and a lot of the ladies (and some of the men) in the office had swooned over him as he’d walked between the cubicles to the meeting room. His slate blue eyes and chestnut hair, tips bleached lighter by the sun, had captivated you, and when those eyes had connected with your own, and he had smiled at you, you’d felt your heart skip a beat.

When you came back from lunch the meeting had ended and he’d left the building, but there, propped on your keyboard was a business card, with his name and number on it, and on the back a scribbled message.

Le Bernadin, Friday, 8pm. Hope to see you there.

Presumptuous? Yes. Hot? Also, yes.

Charles had swept you off your feet with sumptuous dinners and expensive gifts. He made you feel as though you were the only girl in the world. After a whirlwind six months he proposed, and you said yes. You’d moved into his home when you became Mrs Blackwood.

Looking back, it had started to go downhill almost straight away, but you hadn’t noticed at the time.

He gave you praise when you did something he approved of but ignored you at best, and snapped at you at worst, when it was the other way. Dinner ready when he got home? Well then you were an angel, his best girl. Running late due to computer issues and then the subway being rammed? All you got then was a grunt, and a clipped enquiry about when you were going to have food on the table. It didn’t help that the sex was great, and he used it to distract you. As soon as you’d start to probe about his attitude he’d apologise, pull you into his arms and kiss you senseless before taking you to bed, making you scream his name.

A year into your marriage and you’d given up your job. You didn’t need it with the money Charles earned in his. It gave you more down time to relax, do the house up how you wanted and keep your husband sweet. He was so loving at that point, his moods reduced. He bought you more gifts and developed an obsession with getting you pregnant.

It had seemed so sweet.

The only times he’d got cross had been on the rare occasion you’d gone out with your girlfriends, coming home slightly tipsy. Never drunk because Charles didn’t like you drunk.

“Those gal-pals of yours are a bad influence, darling. The way they act they’re gonna get into trouble, and if you’re with them, you’ll be in it too. Don’t wanna see you get hurt darling. Just want you here with me, all nice and safe.”

Maybe it would have been different if you had become pregnant? But then again, maybe you would have still felt the way you do, the love disappeared, turned to fear and loathing, but with the added complication of trying to leave with a child in tow?

Every month, when your period had come, your loving husband would disappear. To start with, Charles would become sullen and uncommunicative, but over the last twelve months the comments had begun, disguised at first as teasing, but getting more and more vindictive as time went on. He blamed you for the lack of conception, that much was clear. You went to see your doctor, had tests done, but she could find no reason on your end why it wasn’t working, and before you could look at other routes, such as ICSI and IVF, Charles would need to have his own tests.

This had proven to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. You’d brought it up with him last night - was it only last night? - when he’d got home from work. You’d expected some grumpiness from him, knowing that he would see the suggestion it might be him as an attack on his masculinity.

You hadn’t expected him to explode.

To scream at you.

To push you.

To slap you.

To rape you.

You’d passed out on the bed having cried yourself to sleep, and when you had finally woken he was gone, off to work as though your whole world hadn’t just come crumbling down. You might not have many friends left, and no close family, but you knew now to cut your losses. You’d shoved your way into some clothes, not bothering to wash, knowing in the back of your mind your body bore evidence you might need, before flinging your few prized possessions and a handful of clothes into a suitcase and duffel. Charles appeared at the door just as you were leaving, having decided to come home early to “care for my wife who is feeling a bit under the weather.”

It was only his shock that you were actually leaving that allowed you to push past him, out onto the street and blessed freedom.

Finally, a cab stopped for you, you made it to a hotel and called the police.

10 Months later

You should have expected it really. It was going to take a lot more than a rape and assault charge, along with divorce proceedings, to stop Charles from pestering you. He had money, and influence, so it wasn’t surprising that the charges hadn’t stuck, but you couldn’t regret trying. You’d cited irreconcilable differences in your divorce petition, and because you were the one to leave, it was looking likely that any settlement would be meagre, despite the fact that you’d left your job for him. His lawyer was making it look as though you had chosen the role of a housewife of your own volition, revelling in the fact you didn’t need to work. Charles was also dragging his feet with it all. Only complying with the filing of various paperwork right at the last minute. At least your therapy was helping you recover.

As you traipsed upstairs to your third-floor apartment, situated in an unassuming building in Hell’s Kitchen, your exhaustion at the whole situation gnawed at you. That’s probably why you didn’t realise that someone was following you up the stairs, half a turn behind. You were fumbling with your key when a pair of hands slapped down onto your door, either side of your head. You spun to find Charles stood right there, caging you in.

“Hey darling. Miss me?”

“Piss off Charles.”

“Is that any way to speak to your loving husband?”

You snorted in disgust.

“Charles, you never loved me, you proved that. And you are soon to be my ex-husband.”

“Aaaw, baby. You can’t really mean that. You can’t really enjoy living here of all places. And I know that you’ve not been seeing anyone since you had your little tantrum and left….” His hand moved so he could trail his knuckles down your cheek. “Bet you missed how good I can make you feel…”

You shivered at his touch, your stomach rolling.

“Yeah, I miss you like a hole in the head. And it wasn’t a little tantrum. You hit me and you raped me, and you fucking know it.”

“Ah-ah, not according to the courts. We just had a marital tiff, that you took too far the next day after you regretted our…rather vigorous…make-up sex.”

God, you thought you were going to be sick, although if it was going to be all over his shoes and suit it might be worth it.

You couldn’t hide the way your body trembled. He was taller than you, and although slim, it was all lean muscle. He’d beaten you once and you both knew he could do it again. You clutched your keys in your hand, trying to work out if you were brave enough to hit him with them if you needed to.

Unfortunately, the jangling caught his attention. He plucked them out from between your fingers easily, sliding the correct key into the lock on the first try. Terror ran through you then. You were relatively safe, out here in the hallway, but if he managed to get you inside your apartment then he’d have you trapped.

Your eyes darted to the side, and you could see the light seeping out from underneath the door just down the hall and to the right. You’d never met that neighbour, but even if it was just a little old lady, surely Charles wouldn’t make that much of a scene in front of a witness. With all the speed you could muster, you ducked under his arm and made a break for it. Your knuckles had barely scraped the wood of the door, when you felt an excruciating pain in your scalp, as Charles grabbed your hair and pulled you back, a sneer twisting his handsome features

“Tsk, tsk,darling. You know I like to make it interesting but adding a third party is not on the programme. Now be a good girl, like I know you can be, and get inside.”

“Fuck off!”

You attempted to stamp on his instep whilst trying to free yourself from the painful grip he had on you. Charles looked at you, condescendingly, when all of a sudden he froze, face dropping. You barely had time to wonder what had caused it when you heard a deep voice from behind you.

“I think the lady wants you to let her go.”

You twisted slightly to look, but all you could see was a muscled chest encased in a black t-shirt. Your neighbour by all accounts.

“Look, pal. She’s my wife and we’ve just got a couple of things to talk about, so back off, yeah?”

Charles' voice might have been full of bravado, but you could hear the undercurrent of worry. He wasn’t feeling in charge of this situation. It was obvious your neighbour was taller and bigger built, even if you couldn’t see him properly.

“The fact that she knocked on my door, looks terrified and you have a death grip on her hair tells me she doesn’t wanna talk to you, husband or no. So, I say again, let her go.”

“Or what? This is none of your business so just go back in…Aagghh!”

Charles’ tirade broke off with a scream and the horrible sound of bone grinding against bone. The pressure on your scalp was gone and you blinked tears out of your eyes to see him cradling his wrist and stepping back, eyes wide in fear.

“You’re a fucking psycho. You’ll be hearing about this!”

“Good for you pal. I’ll be waiting and quakin’ in my boots.”

With a last glare at you, Charles spun on his heel, still holding his aching wrist and vaulted down the stairs.

You let out the breath you hadn’t even realised you’d been holding, eyes focussing on your keys, swinging from your door where Charles had abandoned them in his attempt to get hold of you. You felt your neighbour take a step away from you, his presence no longer shadowing you and you turned to thank him.

You tipped your head up, and then further up. Damn the guy was huge, and looking at his rugged features, the obviously ‘broken at some point’ nose and the close-cropped hair, it was no wonder Charles had been running scared. To be honest, if you’d seen him yourself for the first time on a cold dark night, heck, even a warm one, you’d probably have crossed to the other side of the street. His whole body screamed ‘danger’, even though, in this moment, you knew that with him here, you were safe.

“Th..Thanks,” you stuttered. “He’s an insufferable prick who obviously doesn’t like to hear the word no.”

“Any time, no worries. I don’t like guys who act like that. You have any trouble like that again, just knock, or holla. I’m usually in.”

He turned to leave, to go back inside his apartment, but you stopped him with a tentative touch to his arm.

“I..um…what’s your name? You know, as we’re neighbours? I’m Y/N.”

A small smile split his face, and a strange feeling came over you.

“I’m Frank. Nice t’meetcha, and hopefully I’ll see you around, but in better circumstances. Bye.”

“Bye, Frank.”

You stepped back to your doorway but couldn’t help but take one last look at him as he stepped through his, both of you watching the other as you closed your doors.

After meeting Frank that first time, it seemed as though the universe now wanted to throw you both together. The next time you saw him was in the laundry room later that week, both of you waiting for your wash cycles to finish so you could move your stuff over to a dryer. You weren’t in there with him for very long, your machine due to finish a good ten minutes before his, but it was nice to chat to someone.

“How you doin’? Any more drama from his royal prickness?”

You snorted your amusement and he smiled in return, his chocolate-coloured eyes twinkling as he leant against one of the sorting tables.

“No, not in person. His lawyer is dragging out the divorce stuff again, as usual.”

He responded with a grunt of commiseration before your washer beeped and there were a few minutes of companionable silence as you moved your stuff over and started up the dryer.

When you turned you found he’d moved to be closer to you and you almost bounced off his impressive chest. You swallowed, hard, and looked up at him.

“Well, um, I’ll see you around Frank.”

“See you around…”

He looked down at you, his gaze capturing yours for a heartbeat, before he stepped back, and you slipped past him. It took everything in your power to walk normally. Something about him just… you weren’t even sure. It wasn’t fear… but it was close… maybe?

The next time you saw him was at the coffee shop down the street from the apartment. You’d decided to stop in as a treat to yourself, after a busy day scoping out new employment opportunities and handing out your CV to appropriate places. It was hard to explain the two-year gap and why you had left your previous employment to someone you didn’t know on the off chance they would give you a job.

But you don’t get anything without asking, so you were rewarding yourself for actually putting yourself out there. It had started to rain - wasn’t it always raining? - and stopping for a coffee was cheaper than a cab; you needed to start saving your pennies now your meagre savings were dwindling.

You’d just collected your ridiculous hazelnut latte with extra whipped cream from the counter, searching for a seat, when you saw a familiar form sat at a small table in the corner.

“Room for one more?”

Frank looked up from where he was scrolling through his phone with his right thumb, his left hand around a mug of black coffee.

“For you neighbour? Always.”

You slid into the seat opposite him and took a sip of your drink. He looked at you and smirked, before his hand snaked out and a calloused thumb wiped a blob of cream off your nose. You started to giggle back, but the sound died in your throat as you watched him suck his thumb into his mouth, ridding it of the sweet foam. When you drew your gaze away from his plump mouth it was to catch his eyes, that signature twinkle back in them.

“What you been up to?”

You shook your head slightly, breaking out of your daze.

“Um…handing out CV’s. With the divorce taking so long, I need to get back into employment. Although, I’m not holding out my hopes for the settlement, either, but just being finally free of Charles will be a godsend. I just hope once it’s done, he finally accepts it. I’m glad he’s not come back to the apartment, but I hate him knowing where I live.”

“That bad, huh? I mean, it looked quite bad the other day, you know…”

So, you told him your sorry tale, his face getting stonier as you got towards the end of the story.

“If I ever see him set foot near the apartment, I swear I will break his face and he’ll be happy about it! Fuck sweetheart! Jeez. I’m just glad you got away from him though.

“Yeah, away from him, but jobless, in my mid-thirties, wondering what to do with my life.”

He smiled at you again, the skin around his eyes crinkling in a way that made your heart flutter.

“Hey, you’re not old, by any stretch. Still got the best bits of your life to live. And just think, you’re more mature, know exactly what you like and don’t like. No one will think you’re a pushover next time round.”

You smiled back at him.

“You’re a good friend, Frank.”

“Is that what we are? This is the longest we’ve talked.” He was still smiling, so you knew he was teasing. “I know what, let’s go get something to eat and have a few beers. I’ve got nothing better to do this evening.”

“Sheesh Frank, make it sound as though you want to spend time with me, why don’t cha?”

He playfully elbowed you in the arm.

“Come on sweetheart. Rain’s stopped and I know a great Chinese place down the road.”

“Lead on my gallant knight!”

It was silly, but maybe silly is what you needed? Halfway there the rain started up again and you both had to run for it, coats held above your heads as you attempted to keep yourself dry. You burst through the door of the restaurant, the pair of you laughing. At least with his short hair Frank looked less like a drowned rat than you. A server quickly ushered you both to a table, even managing to find a small towel for you so you could rub a bit at the moisture in your hair.

Frank was right of course about the place. The food was good, the beers cold, but for you, it was the company that was the best. The pair of you laughed and joked, telling stories from your childhoods. He was fairly tight-lipped about his job, mumbling that he was a ‘private contractor’, and the only other low point in the conversation was when he revealed he was a widower. The way that the shutters came down over his face told you not to probe any further. It was his tale to tell, if he ever wanted to. By the time the meal came to an end you were relaxed, and possibly - probably - a bit tipsy from the three beers you’d had.

Walking outside you were glad to see the rain had stopped. The clouds had cleared somewhat so it was probably a safe bet that the walk home would be dry. You wobbled a bit as you started to walk, causing Frank to chuckle before tucking your arm in the crook of his. You felt blood rush to your face and prayed he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off your cheeks.

“So, sweetheart, what’s on the to-do list tomorrow for you then?”

“Oh, nothing much. Laundry, bit more scouring the internet for job opportunities, maybe a bit of reading and box set binging. It’s gonna be strange when I do get back to work, having been out of it for so long. But it’ll be good, I’m sure. The chance to meet and connect with new people.”

He hummed in response, but you were getting tired now, and not really paying attention.

When you reached your apartment building you were glad you had Frank with you. You tripped and giggled a bit up the stairs. Frank had untangled your arm from his and guided you with his large hands on your shoulders. You could feel the heat of them through your sodden jacket, aware of his large body behind you as you mounted the stairs. There was a stirring in the pit of your stomach, an almost forgotten feeling, which was blooming with every step.

Desire.

The realisation almost stopped you short, causing you to stumble and Frank to bump into your back. It had been so long since you’d felt it. Hadn’t since…that night. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing your brain not to link how you were feeling now with that awful experience. Frank, oblivious to your internal turmoil, steered you the last turn up onto the landing.

“Here we are. Didn’t expect you to be such a lightweight, sweetheart.”

His deep chuckle sent darts of heat to your core.

You managed to find your keys, and unlocked your door, but before you entered you turned to face him. He smiled down at you, a crooked but kind smile, his eyes dancing in the low hallway light. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your cheek up to his damp t-shirt. He was startled a bit by the impromptu hug, but quickly recovered and wrapped his large arms around you in return. He was warm and it felt safe to be wrapped up in him, being held tight against his broad firm chest. You’d never felt so small, and yet so protected. You tilted your head to look up at him, leaning slightly away from his chest so you didn’t go cross-eyed.

“Thank you for being my friend, Frank.”

Then, before you could over-think what you were doing, you moved one of your hands to the back of his neck, feeling the short hairs beneath your fingers, and drew his head down as you raised up on your toes, pressing your lips to his. In a heartbeat, he slid a hand up to cradle the back of your head and deepened the kiss. His lips were plump, but also slightly chapped and you felt the roughness as they mapped your own. Your hands moved to grasp the lapels of his coat, unsure whether you were stabilising yourself or pulling him closer or both. You sighed into him, enjoying your first intimate contact in almost a year.

He pulled away from you gently, his smile softer, and he cupped your cheek in his calloused palm.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Frank.”

A loud thump, and the sound of a man swearing under his breath woke you from your slumber.

It had been a week since your evening with Frank, and you had barely seen him, one of you always rushing to or from somewhere. You’d been thinking of inviting him over for dinner and a few drinks, maybe a film, just to relax for an evening. You could no longer deny you were attracted to him and part of you wanted to see where this would lead. He obviously wasn’t indifferent to you.

Another thump, louder this time, and you pinpointed the noise as coming from the hallway. There were only three apartments on this floor, and considering it was 2.30am, and the fact that the grunts were male, you didn’t think it was Mrs Kratz coming back in from a night on the tiles with her knitting group.

It could be an intruder, but if it were, surely Frank would have come out from his apartment to investigate. Therefore, it was likely the culprit was Frank himself. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry, so as you moved to your door, you grabbed the baseball bat you kept for your own protection.

You peered out of the peephole, but weren’t able to discern anything more, so, carefully, you slid back the deadbolt and opened your door. There was Frank, leant against the wall at the top of the stairs. Blood trickled down his face from a cut near his eyebrow. His knuckles were grazed, and he was clutching at his ribs.

“Frank!” You dropped your bat onto the floor and ran over to him, nudging your smaller body under his free arm to try and prop him up.

“Come on big guy, help me here. Let’s get you inside, and I’ll try patch you up.”

He grunted in response, and you could see pain glazing his eyes. The pair of you staggered into your apartment; there was no way that you’d get him down to his. You considered setting him down on your couch, but he was so big there was no way he’d be able to lie down on it, and you wanted room to check his injuries. You wondered how he had been injured but pushed your interest in that away; that could come later.

It was a bit awkward, but you finally managed to get you both across your small living space and into your bedroom. Frank basically tipped himself off you to flop down onto your bed, wincing as he landed, feet hanging off the end.

“Right, let’s see what we’re working with here. You gotta help me.”

You pulled the hem of his t-shirt out of the waist of the black combat pants he was wearing and pushed it up until it bunched under his armpits. There was a mottled bruise firming across the right side of his ribs, along with some scrapes and abrasions.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Prob’ly just bruised. Definitely not broken.”

He shifted, going to stand up, but you placed your hand on his sternum and pushed him back down.

“At least let me wash and wrap them, okay?”

His eyes closed, but you saw a small nod, so, grabbing your first aid kit from your bathroom, you cleaned off the small cuts, and then, awkwardly, wrapped a bandage around his ribs. You then turned your attention to cut on his brow. He hissed when you cleaned it, but otherwise was silent and still. You had a couple of butterfly strips so you used those to hold the wound together. You were certain it was going to scar, but you didn’t think he was worried about things like that.

Next you grabbed a bottle of water from your fridge, thanking yourself for buying one with a sports cap, a protein bar and some aspirin. With Frank’s help, you managed to get him turned onto his good side, propped up with some pillows, and whilst he drank down the water, and took the painkillers, you managed to wrench his boots off his feet. You perched on the edge of the mattress, watching his throat move as he drank. He drained the bottle, and you took it from him, placing it on your nightstand.

“Are you okay, Frank?”

“Be right as rain in the mornin’, sweetheart. Thank you.” He took your hand in one of his large paws, giving it a gentle squeeze that made butterflies swoop in your stomach. Your tongue darted out to moisten your lip and you didn’t notice how his gaze lingered.

“Well… I… erm… I’ll go head to the sofa.” You started to shift, but his grip on your hand tightened.

“No.”

You tilted your head as you looked at him.

“No?”

Was that a slight pinking of his cheeks you saw?

“I mean… there’s enough space, I’m sure I can shuffle over a bit. And you know, what if I need your help in the night? Be easier if you’re right here?”

You couldn’t help but grin and a teasing note entered your voice.

“Is big, bad Frank saying he needs me to look after him?”

“Okay, okay, stop being a brat, and come lay down.”

You climbed onto the bed properly, and after smoothing the coverlet over the pair of you, settled down to face him, your bedside lamp casting soft light over the planes of his face.

“Goodnight, Frank.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes, certain it was going to take you ages to go back to sleep, especially with Frank lying next to you, but it was mere minutes before slumber took you.

The thing overriding your senses as you woke was a firm weight, almost completely pinning your body down.

For a moment you panicked, until your memories of last night kicked in. Opening your eyes, and carefully turning your head, you confirmed that the weight was in fact Frank. You must have turned over in the night and, at some point, you had both drifted closer together. He had a large arm around your waist and a thick thigh hooked over your legs. He still had his clothes on, and the material of his pants scratched against your skin.

You shifted slightly, seeing whether you could slip out from under him, but you soon realised that the movement was a bad idea. How could you forget about what happened to a lot of men as they woke in the morning, especially if pressed up against somebody else. You tried to ignore the bulge nudging against your ass, it was a natural reaction and Frank still appeared to be asleep and unaware, but a small part of your mind went into overdrive. His fingers were pressed against your stomach, the warmth of them seeping through your thin pyjama top. How would they feel on your bare skin? You knew the skin of his hands was rough, probably from years of physical labour, nothing like Charles’ with his moisturisers and regular manicures. His leg was thick with muscle and he was currently pinning you down with just one, without any effort. Your pussy clenched involuntarily, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips.

“I’d be very grateful, sweetheart, if you could not make noises like that.”

His voice, deeper and more gravelly than usual, no doubt from sleep, sounded in your ear, and you let out a small squawk of surprise and tried to turn in his arms. However, he just held you just a little bit tighter, drawing your back against his body even further.

“And quit wrigglin’.”

You were quiet for a moment, thoughts swirling in your head.

“Erm, Frank. You gonna let me up?”

“The question, sweetheart, is whether you want me to?”

A heartbeat’s silence.

Now or never.

“No…” Your voice was barely a whisper, but apparently that’s all that was needed.

Frank moved his head so it was resting on your shoulder, his broad, misshapen nose nuzzling behind your ear, his breath hot on your neck.

“Is this okay?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

The hand on your stomach moved, his fingers sneaking up under your top, so he could feel the bare flesh of your stomach. It felt better than you imagined, every callus causing a ripple of sensation as his fingers brushed gently over your skin.

“And this… Is this also okay?”

You whined and your hips canted back of their own accord, brushing against his hardness and drawing a hiss from him.

You were overcome with the need to kiss him, to have him kiss you and you struggled to turn within his embrace.

“Frank…”

He relaxed his grip and you flipped, arms going up to wind around his neck. Your gazes locked, his eyes hooded and heavy looking, before he let out a low, deep noise, somewhat like a growl, and captured your lips with his. Your first kiss had been tentative on your part, and soft on his. This kiss was nothing like that. This was passion and need and want. Now it was you who trapped him with a leg, rolling your pelvis and shuddering at the pressure on your clothed clit.

His tongue invaded your mouth, tasting you and drawing your cries into him. You needed more. Your hands skimmed down his body until they found the hem of his t-shirt and pushed it up. When your fingers brushed against his bandaged ribs, he hissed, arching back and away from you instinctively.

“Careful baby, still a bit tender.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry Frank…” You tried to scrabble off the bed, the moment apparently broken and your embarrassment kicking in, but once again, he didn’t seem keen to let you go.

“Hey, where you goin’? I said be careful, not run away.”

Oh god his smile, the things it did to you.

“You certain you want this sweetheart? You’re in charge. You tell me stop and I stop.”

“I know Frank, I want this, need to feel you.”

You moved to kneel up on the bed, and he let you go, rolling onto his back. You drew your sleep shirt over your head, and you saw his eyes darken further, only a sliver of hazel to be seen as he looked at you. His hand reached out to take hold of yours, tugging on it.

“C’m’ere gorgeous.”

You straddled his hips, careful of his bruises as he pulled you down so he could take the tip of one breast into his mouth, humming in pleasure. He gently palmed the other, his thumb swiping gently over your nipple, the roughness sending frissons of pleasure darting up your spine.

He spent an age worshipping your upper body, switching between each breast with his mouth, and sometimes kissing and nipping at your collarbone. You mewled and ground against his hardness, feeling your underwear grow damp with your arousal. When he finally released your breasts, you felt bereft, but the feeling quickly faded as he shuffled to pull his own t-shirt up over his head. In the morning light, and without the worry of his injuries distracting you, you could see just how built he was. Your hands roamed to his lightly haired pecs, and you couldn’t help but squeeze them, digging your nails in, wanting to leave your own mark on his body.

“Look atchu, sweetheart. Going all feral on me? Declarin’ your ownership, huh?”

You couldn’t answer, just attacked his chest with your mouth and your teeth, growing wetter by the second as he hissed and writhed under you. You sat back, grinning and staring at your handy-work, a litany of bruises and marks across his skin, but before you could get too smug, his arms hooked under your legs and hoisted you up, so you were straddling across his upper chest. With two quick tugs he ripped the seams of your underwear, threw the torn scrap away, and pulled you onto his face.

“Fuck!”

You screeched as his tongue wormed its way between your pussy lips and you had to grab onto the headboard for stability. His hands cupped your ass, holding you trapped against him. You’d had good head before, but Christ, never had a man just seated you on his face as though you were nothing. Frank moaned into your core, and you could feel the rumble in his broad chest reverberating under you. His hands shifted you, tilted your hips, so he could suckle on your clit. You braved a glance down to see him starting up at you, completely unabashed. Pleasure shot through you, and you started to grind down onto his face. He returned his attention to your wet hole, thrusting his tongue inside you and moving his head slightly side to side so that your clit brushed against his broad nose.

“Frank… shit… gonna cum… gonna fucking cum… oh god!”

He hummed into your core as you shook on top of him, unashamedly rutting your hips back and forth as you chased your high. As you calmed, Frank slowed the movement of his tongue, reducing it to long, leisurely licks causing aftershocks to shudder through you, and when a whimper of overstimulation left your lips, he gently moved you to sit across his chest again. You risked another look down, your eyes unfocused, and your smile goofy as the endorphin high ran through your body. He smiled that lazy smile back up at you, his face glossy with your juices.

Carefully you moved back down his body, so you could take his face in your hands and kiss him. You tasted yourself on him and you both moaned into each other. You felt his hands scrabbling behind you and you squeaked when he lifted his hips, causing you to lurch forward, but when you settled back down you realised he had pushed his pants and trunks down. His legs shuffled and shook, and you giggled into his mouth as he shed himself of the stiff fabric.

“Can you ride me baby? Betchu can. Take all this cock, and then take what you want from me?”

You took your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes closing momentarily at the thought, before you shifted further down, so you could get a look at what you were going to be working with.

Shit.

He was thick and cut, prominent veins running down his length. As you took him in with your gaze, you heard a strange noise, finally realising it was you, letting out a reedy whine.

“C’mon sweetheart, up you get. Know you can do it. That beautiful pussy was made for this, made for me, I fucking swear.”

With a hand pressed to his upper chest for balance, you raised yourself up. He took himself in his hand, holding himself upright and guided his tip towards your glistening core. You sank down slowly, feeling the wide head stretch your entrance, before suddenly popping inside. You whined again, and heard his answering growl. You bounced gently, slowly engulfing him and feeling jolts of electricity shoot up and down your spine.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

“There you go, atta girl. You almost got it.”

His gentle and tender praise, so different from Charles, made your heart beat faster, made you want to please him. You were taken by surprise when you bottomed out, feeling the roughness of his pubic hair prickling your sensitive pussy lips and clit, still swollen and throbbing. You ground your hips in a circle, revelling in the delicious stretch, your muscles clenching in reflex.

“That’s it, you got it. Now lift those hips and ride me, yeah?”

Slowly, you lifted up and felt him sliding inside you, rubbing every sensitive nerve ending, before allowing gravity to bring you back down. A small grunt was forced from you, the burn from the stretch straddling that space between pleasure and pain. Your second movement was faster and the third faster still. Frank’s hands spanned your waist, the size of them making you feel so small, helping you to ride him. You clenched around him hard on every upstroke, feeling powerful. Desirable. Sexy. A lifetime away from that woman who was so eager to please for an easy life. Who put up with degradation and emotional manipulation.

“Hey, come back to me sweetheart. Ya here with me, okay?”

Your eyes snapped open, realising you’d worried him for a moment, apparently having spaced out.

“Yeah, I’m here…” You bent down and kissed him again, rolling your hips, darts of sensation shooting through your clit from the outside and your g-spot on the inside, where he bumped and rubbed against you.

“Fuck, sweetheart. So good, so warm. And so tight. Shit. Was gonna let you do all this, but please… please I gotta fuck you.”

You nodded, but he tutted.

“Words sweetheart. Need to hear it. Need to know you’re thinking properly.”

“Yes… please Frank… I need you… need you to fuck me.”

He gripped your waist tighter and flipped you both, so he knelt up between your legs. He moved you so both your calves leant against his shoulder, away from his bruising. His arms wrapped around your thighs, holding your legs together and your body close as he set up a fast pace. You shouted out in pleasure, the stimulation almost making you cry.

“Touch yourself, baby. Need you to cream on this cock.”

You hand moved, unwaveringly down to your clit, and you rubbed fast circles, knowing you wouldn’t need a lot more to finish. The other hand moved up to your breast and you palmed your flesh and plucked at your nipple. You could only moan and whimper as Frank's lips spilled praise, the pressure inside you building until it burst, your body arching, his name leaving your mouth on a scream. He fucked you through it, his own movements becoming uncoordinated, until you felt him pulse and twitch inside you, heard him moaning your name over and over as he reached his own end.

Your legs slipped from his shoulder and you rolled to your side as he pulled out and collapsed onto the bed behind you. You both lay there, panting and zoned out for a few moments, before he pulled you up against his body, pressing fervoured kisses to your shoulder and neck.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Perfect, Frank.”

“‘M never gonna let anything hurt you again. He ain’t ever gonna hurt you again.”

Your hand trailed up and down his arm, over the dark hair, and you’re sure you dozed for a while, lying all safe, until your stomach rumbled loudly, bringing you back to reality. With a giggle you got up from the bed and, tossing a smile over your shoulder, pulled Frank’s t-shirt over your head and padded into your bathroom. You quickly cleaned yourself up, and you were just brushing your hair as you stood in front of the mirror when you took a good look at the fabric covering you. It was mainly black, but had a design in white on the front. You put your brush down and pulled the material out taut with your hands. A skull design.

Oh fuck.

You recognised this symbol from the news. Frank, your neighbour, your friend and now your lover, was the vigilante known as The Punisher. Had he been out fighting crime and righting wrongs last night, when he got injured?

A sudden pounding on your front door broke you out of your thoughts. As you dashed back through your bedroom you pulled on your shorts, before opening the door.

Charles.

A bruised and battered looking Charles.

“Keep that neighbour of yours under control!”

His eyes were wide, spittle flying, as he poked you in the chest with his index finger.

“He came to my club, started punching me and the boys…”

He trailed off mid sentence and took a stumbling step backwards. Frank stood at your back, arm draped across your shoulder. A quick glance revealed he was just wearing his underwear.

“Hey, pal. How you feelin’? As you can see I’m doing just fine after that little sparrin’ match with all your buddies last night. Coulda all been avoided if you’d just agreed to stay away ‘n’ stop holding up the paperwork. And then, y’know, not had your friends all try jump me with bats. As it so happens, it was the state you guys left me that led to me bein’ here. She looked after me real good and I looked after her too.”

“You fucking creep! Taking advantage of my wife when she’s not in her right frame of mind!”

“Charles?”

You interrupted his tirade with your sweetest voice, honed from months of practice and coming back to you with sickening ease.

“You like Frank’s t-shirt? He made it himself, one of a kind!”

Initially confusion reigned on his handsome, albeit bruised, face. But you saw the moment he too recognised the emblem, looking from the skull symbol to Frank, to you and back again.

“I… um… ah… need to go see my lawyer… got some papers to sort out…yeah.. so I’ll just go…”

He spun, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away.

A small smile crept across your face. No way in hell was Charles ever going to hurt you again.

Tag list @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @krissy25

[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

[canyouiimagine]

DO I WANNA KNOW ? | CL16 x Black! Reader

PART 1

Masterlist

✧ Paring: CEO! Charles Leclerc x CEO black!reader

✧ Warning: Mentions of cheating, no smut but some sexual tension.

✧ Summary: How far is Mr. Leclerc willing to go to get you.

✧ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own nor know these people personally. I also do not claim this to be an accurate depiction of their character. 🥰

✧ A/N: This was actually about someone else but I thought why not use Charles for this 👀. Also, English is not my first language so 👉🏾👈🏾.

It had been five years since the last time you were here.

Nothing had changed much. The same African Blackwood walls, the same wood flooring. The same lingering perfume in the halls. His perfume.

“Mr. Leclerc is ready to see you.” The receptionist told you. Five years ago, you were at her place. Which is how you knew that Mr. Leclerc enjoys coming to get his guests in Person. Matter of fact, you remember him getting angry more than once when guests were sent to his office instead of him being called to come and greet them. Sure, anything could change in 5 years, but you knew more than anyone that Mr. Leclerc was a creature of habit and that he would not be so quick to change something he had been practicing long before you even worked for him. You also knew that he was doing all of this to rile you up.

You got up and followed the receptionist towards the oh so familiar door of Leclerc’s office.

You entered and there he stood before you. Mr. Charles Leclerc in all his glory. The same luscious hair that you longed to run your fingers through. The same well-tailored suit. The same expensive Tom Ford perfume. And the same smile. A smile that used to make your day. A smile that you felt like belonged to you, and only you.

“Miss Y/L/N! I’m glad you could find the time to see me! I know you’re very busy these days.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think his comment was genuine. But you had gotten to know him like the back of your hand. Mr. Leclerc was used to always getting what he wanted. He wanted to see you, and he made sure you had no other choice but to come to him.

“As you said, I’m very busy these days so let’s just get straight to the point. What do you want?”

He wasn’t taken aback by your rude response. He just smiled and motioned for you to sit down while he made his way around his desk to do the same.

“Leclerc has been looking into expending its horizons to fashion.” He started. But you knew better. While it is true that Leclerc was a group of the diverse ventures, the billion-euro transnational had never shown the slightest interest in anything fashion related, or in selling goods in general. Matter of fact, his family would probably have a meltdown if they knew about this. If they knew what he was willing to do to get close to you. “There are additional millions in turnover that we aren’t making by neglecting the fashion industry.”

“There are more than a hundred fashion brands to choose from in this country alone. So why go after mine?”

“There might be as many as you say but no other independent brand has your numbers, Miss Y/L/N.” He said to and smirked.

He knew how to talk himself way out of any questioning, and this was no exception. Your company was doing well, that is true. Some might even say it was doing better than most. He knew you couldn’t argue him on that. But as you said earlier, Charles is a man that knows how to get what he wants, and if your company was what he wanted, he would have just gone for it. Instead, he had gotten a formal acquision proposal sent to your office adding that if you did not agree to a meeting, he would resort to buying up company shares until you would be left with nothing.

“If my company was really what you wanted, you wouldn’t go out of your way to threaten me with a meeting Charles. What do you actually want?”

He was no longer smiling.

“Come here Y/N.” You couldn’t help myself. You did exactly as he said and made your way to stand before him. He looked you up and down and the smile that he adorned earlier was back.

You dressed up for him and he knew it.

“Sit down.” You didn’t need to ask where, you already knew “where you belonged”. It felt like a repeat that night. Except today you would be standing your ground. Today, you wouldn’t be falling for his lies. Your face hardened.

“The proposal for the acquisition better be withdrawn by tomorrow, Lee.” You said with a cold tone, before turning around to leave.

“We really did divorce Y/N.” There he went again with his lies. His comment had made you stop but you quickly regained your composure and left.

Charles was a married man. Something you wish someone had told you before you fell for him.

Hope you enjoyed it 🥹💖

Here's my ko-fi in case any of you want to support me by giving donations 🥰: https://ko-fi.com/canyouiimagine

[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."

[georgiapeach30513]

Misguided Ghosts, Part 6

Summary:  Jakey is the sweetest

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

Rating:  mature

Warnings:  language, implied sex, implied non con/dub con, implied ghost sex, mentions of voyeurism, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  2.2K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“And what are you going to be?” Jake talks to your belly as you struggle to finish breakfast.  “You’re going to be mine and your mommy’s precious sweet girl, aren’t you?”

No, he’s not.  Charles hops onto the counter behind you, and kicks at Jake’s arm.  You look down at Jake who had quit talking and tickling your belly to see him glaring behind you.  You got caught.  Are you ever going to tell my Princess what you’re doing?

“Jake, is everything okay,” you brush your hand against his cheek, and try to smile.  Jake seemed so preoccupied since you had been pregnant.  It was like he was always looking at something in the distance.  “Are you sure you want this?”

Haha, told you that you were caught.

“Giggles, I’m so happy.  Had I had known that you felt the same way I did, I wouldn’t have waited so long.”

Good save, dumb ass.

“You’re just…what do you see?” Jake stands up from the floor, and desperately tries to ignore Charles’ incessant laughter.  “Like just now, you were looking at something else.  Is it this house?  Is it because you don’t want to be here?”

“Stop,” he brings both your hands to his chest, and lets them rest on his heart, “It only beats for you and our baby.”

Sure, sure.  Bring up the fact that you have a beating heart.  You don’t find it funny that a woman that didn’t think she could get pregnant, now is?  You think your sperm did that?  We know that’s my hybrid baby.  Quit your babbling.

“And,” his voice gets louder, and your body flinches at the volume change, “This house is creepy and…”

Your handsome and sexy ghost has been fucking you with me every night.

“Giggles…we’re…we’re gonna be late.  We should eat.”

Fucking coward.  Can’t even tell her that our baby is going to be part ghost and part human.  You don’t want her to know that you enjoy fucking her with me.

“I’m just so glad that the baby has had such a good strong heartbeat,” he wraps his arms around you, settling his hands on your belly, while he rests his chin on your shoulder.  “You’re doing such a good job of growing this precious jellybean of ours.”

Oh god, gag me with a stick.  You’re sickeningly sweet.  Just look at it as a way to trap her to you.  Even if you don’t work out, she can’t leave you.  But you’re worried because you know that deep down that’s my baby.

Jake lifts his leg behind him, starting to swing it through Charles’ specter and the ghost rolls his eyes, I can’t feel that you nitwit.  Better eat.  Need the doctor to tell you we’re having a son.

Holding tightly to Jake’s hand, he leans down to kiss it before his head was back at the monitor, “Everything is normal, right?” He asks worriedly.  “This…this is our first,” it warmed your heart to hear Jake say that.  It was like he was wanting to have more once this baby was born.  

“Baby is growing great,” he pushes your stomach a bit, moving the wand around more, “And stubborn as a mule.  Go on, spread your legs.  You know,” he says, looking up at you and Jake, “Such a strange thing, me telling a not fully formed human to spread their legs so we know what sex they are.  Hehe,” god he was strange, but also the only doctor in the small town.  “Right.  Right there!  Ahh, look at it.”

“I am,” your eyes move over the monitor, and then up at Jake, “What are we looking at.”

“A taco.”

“What?” Jake shouts.  “She hasn’t had tacos because the smell makes her vomit.  What is our baby?”

“A girl,” snapping a few photos, he takes a towel to clean off the gel from your body.  “Should have guessed.  Girls are ladies, and they don’t like showing themselves off.  It’s okay, dad, you can always try again for a boy.”

“Jake?”

“A girl,” he whispers, looking down at you, and you could see why he was so silent.  His little lip was trembling.  “We’re having a girl.  And her heart, it’s beating good and strong?”

“Better than strong.  That’s one of the best heartbeats I’ve heard from a baby her size.  She’s always had a good strong heartbeat.  Okay, so…you two live in that creepy Blackwood house?”  Your squeal completely ignoring what he was saying, because you were having a girl with Jake Jensen.

“We’re having a girl,” you cry, sitting up, and pulling Jake over to you, “Jake, you were right.  We’re having us a girl.”

“And her heart?”

“Jake?  Her heart is fine.  He said it’s better than fine.  She’s perfect,” the doctor smiles, and nods at Jake.  

“I'm just…paranoid, I guess.  Can’t be too sure you know.  Everyone wants to make sure their baby is okay,” he clears his throat, finally embracing you in your hug.  “We’ve got to hang these on the fridge!”

“Your inflections on your words have been strange lately.”

“Strange man I am.  You know this.  Alright, come on.  Let’s go.”

Charles glares at the ultrasound photos on the fridge, looking at each one.  She was supposed to be a boy to carry on his name.  She was supposed to be a big strong boy.  She is now a…Hey!

His body was engulfed with the refrigerator door opening, “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

“You most certainly saw me there.  I make myself visible to you.  What are you doing?”

“My girlfriend wants strawberry milk.  Now…I could give her the strawberry syrup which is full of disgusting ingredients and is most likely what she wants.  But I could make some with fresh strawberries and sugar.”

“Just make her what she wants, and put a strawberry on the side.  Don’t make her more miserable.”

“You do have a heart,” Jake pauses with his words, and tells himself he was never going to refer to Charles having a heart again.  “Why don’t you join us in the bedroom anymore?”

“Why aren’t you fucking someone without a care?  She can’t get pregnant.”

He mixes the syrup in the milk, watching as the liquid turns into a pretty pink color before he spins on his heels to look at Charles, “You literally were just using her to breed, weren’t you?  You don’t care anymore now that she’s pregnant with my baby.  Which by the way, the baby's heartbeat is the best he’s ever heard.  How are we supposed to even know if your glowing jizz had any effect on my daughter?  Is there a DNA test for that?  To prove that your ghost sperm didn’t knock my Giggles up.  You pig.  You just played with her, and then you don't care?”

“You’re too sweet.  It’s disgusting.  You’re treating her like she’s a…”

“Princess?  You’re the one that calls her that.  You…you’re disgusting,” slinging the door to the fridge open, he grabs strawberries, and angrily cuts two.  “You, you came into me.”

“Please, don’t say it like that.”

“You used me just as much as you used her.”

“Oh god, let’s act so righteous,” Charles rolls his eyes, turning to walk into the living room and his chair, “And you knew about me.  By the way,  I used her a lot that first night, and even had her screaming my name.  Just ask her.”

Jake starts to say something else, but thinks better of it.  Looking down at the milk, he grabs the whipped cream, and swirls a mound on it.  Ignoring Charles’ snide comments as he walks up the stairs.  “Giggles,” Jake announces walking through the door, “We need a bedroom on the lower level.”

“But this room has the best view.  Aha!” You squeal as he hands you the drink.  “Jakey, it’s perfect.  Oh,” using the straw, you take the biggest drink, this was exactly what you and your daughter were wanting.  “And there’s a perfect room next to us for Miss Rosewyn Penelope.”

“She’s gonna have fun when it comes time to spell her name,” he removes his shirt, and settles down beside you.  Already scooting closer to your body.  Thankfully he was like a furnace, because you were always so cold.  His thick fingers rub over your belly, and you feel guilty.

“Jake, I’m sorry, I just have no sex drive right now.  I didn’t have morning sickness during the first trimester, and now I do.  And I want to have sex with you.  You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, and…”

“You mean more to me than just your body.  You’re growing our daughter.  I have no room to complain.”

“Why are you acting so off lately then?” You look down at him, thankful that he was the father to your baby.  You two were going to make the prettiest baby, and you hoped she had her daddy’s lashes.  So dark and full.  He doesn’t answer though.  “Is it because of what I said about the dildo?”

“What?”

“That…you know I had a fantasy of you and Charles, and…got off on it.”

“What if…you said that you woke up so worked up, and you needed to fuck something,” when he said it like that it was so crude.  I mean sure, you had such a vivid dream of Charles railing into you that first night.  But still thoughts of Jake kept flashing in your mind, too.  

Waking up in various positions.  Once with your legs spread wide, and you could swear that you felt his cock pushing into you.  “What if it wasn’t a dream?”

“Jake, I love you, but that’s stupid.  Charles is dead.  He died young, and ghosts aren’t real,” he lifts up off the bed, and stares at you.  His usually animated face is gone.  “They’re not real.”

“He was murdered.”

“Jake, stop.”

“We saw it in the library.  He was murdered.  He died shortly after that portrait.  Why couldn’t he be real?”

“So, let me get this straight, you think that first night I was here and having those wild sex dreams, he was actually fucking me?”  He shrugs his shoulders, but can’t meet your eyes.  “Why…why would you think that?”

“You said…you woke up with your ass in the air, and face on the bed, and your body was moving.  You could feel his thrusts.  And…I saw it, too,” your eyes go wide as you stare at him.  Sure, Jake had seen you naked multiple times, but never like that.  “Your body was moving like you were being fucked, and you were fast asleep.”

“How much did you watch?”

“I…Giggles, I shouldn’t have done it, but I wanted you so bad, and…I didn’t know you were asleep.  You were so loud, and the door was open, and I wanted to walk past it, but you were pointing right at the door, and…I felt him in me, too?”

“He fucked you, too?” You start laughing, because what else were you supposed to do?  This was beyond insane.  Jake who you had loved for years was getting a pass for that nonsense, because it was too raw to deal with it.  This was bizarre.  Ever since you had moved here it was strange and unusual.  No wonder you got this house at a huge discount.

“No.  He didn’t fuck me.  I felt him come into me,” you cock up an eyebrow, and he waves his hands, “No, like, he went into my body, like possession.  That’s why I didn’t like him.  It was too personal with that picture there.  It’s like he was watching our every move.  Still does.  Like he’s inescapable unless we move.”

“I want Rosewyn to grow up here though.  She would live in a castle, and…”

“Become friends with a sex crazed ghost?”

“Wait…that first night, it was all night, but in my dreams he was saying something about…ew, no.   Ghosts can’t have babies.  No.  No.  This conversation is over.  I’m tired, I’m going to bed.  We didn’t have this conversation.  We have a healthy baby girl growing, and we’re going to be parents, and we’re always going to live in this damn castle.  So unless you plan on pretending this ghost Charles is a figment of your imagination, or you're going to find his bones to burn or call the Winchesters, I don’t want to hear another word about this.”

She’s living in denial, Charles laughs at the foot of the bed, and Jake tries to ignore him.  She knows.  She still feels me growing in her.  Doesn’t want to admit the big bad ghost filled her up so good.  Got you believing that you’re the crazy one.  Neither of you are.  You won’t get rid of me.  I’ll haunt you forever because I’m growing in her.  You’re trapped with me.  And when that baby is born, I’ll be able to follow you around.  You couldn’t even tell her the truth.  Maybe I should.

His body flickers, but you were curling into Jake’s side.  “Jakey, I don’t want to fight.  I love you.”

“I love you,” he whispers, scooting down the bed.  “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you and our daughter.”

“I know.”

“Shh, get some sleep.”

And maybe one day she’ll feel like fucking you again.  You could just be like me and take, Charles stands off the bed, and starts to head back to his chair.  His home.  Where he felt the most comfortable.

I’ll never be like you, stopping in the doorway, he turns and stares at Jake who gives him a sinister grin.  I’m learning, too.  You won’t hurt my family.  You better change your attitude.  

Don’t threaten me, little boy.  Sweet dreams, Jake.

Next

Masterlist

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

[jtargaryen18]

Jamie's Halloween Challenge 2023

It's almost time for Halloween and no one throws a Halloween party like Tony Stark. No expense is spared and anyone who is anyone makes an appearance at the Avengers compound for the event. Tony also loves surprises, and he has plenty for the guests at this year’s event.

You (or your OC) is there as an invited guest or maybe you work for Stark Industries. Your choice. Your challenge, if you choose to accept it, is to write a sizzling Halloween story. It can be dark, scary, or just really sexy, but the goal is a smutty good Halloween read.

CHARACTERS: Reader insert or OC (your choice) x any of the established Avengers, their foes, or other important characters in the MCU. You can also select a character played by an MCU actor (i.e. Bucky Barnes or Nick Fowler, Charles Blackwood, etc.) Multiple partners are allowed. LGBTQ+ stories are welcome here.

PROMPTS: You must pick one and submit it with your character choices.

The Mysterious Neighbor: Your neighbor's house always seemed normal until Halloween night. You notice something strange and decide to investigate.

A Night in the Haunted House: I don’t know why you’re there when you’re supposed to be at the party. You tell me.

The Unusual Pumpkin Patch: One pumpkin in the local patch grows faster and looks different from the others. You take it home.

The Halloween Costume Comes to Life: Remember that episode of Buffy? You rented a costume and when you put it on, that’s who you are as long as you are wearing it.

Halloween Candy: Tony only buys the good stuff when it comes to Halloween candy. But be careful. There’s a reason there are no kids at this party. Some of the candies are a pretty potent aphrodisiac.

The Unexpected Visitor: On Halloween night, an unexpected visitor knocks at your door. It's not a trick-or-treater but something else.

The Disappearing Act: A drink at Tony’s party turns you (or your significant other) invisible for Halloween night. What do you do?

7 Minutes in… Where?: You know the game. Only when you and your significant other are locked in the closet for 7 minutes, you’re transported somewhere else.

The Frightening Feast: Tony has quite a spread at the party. Be careful. Each dish has magical properties.

The Portal in the Pumpkin: You carve one of the pumpkins Tony ordered, but this one turns out to be a portal to somewhere else...

RULES:

You must be 18 to write for this challenge and it must be legal to participate where you are.

While a smutty good story is the goal, no incest, underage characters, bestiality, or toilet kinks.

Dark stories are welcome. Bonus points if they’re scary.

Stories can be reader insert (preferable) but can be OC.

At some point in the story, your characters must attend Tony’s party, be planning to go to the party, or just come from the party. Bonus points if Tony makes an appearance, even if it’s brief.

You must send me an ask with your characters of choice and the prompt of your choice. `(Example: Steve Rogers x Reader and Halloween Candy)

Minimum word count is 1k words. The max length is up to you.

For this challenge, the fic must be brand new. No tie-ins to existing fics or series. No recycled stories.

Please add a “keep reading” function after 300 words and apply all needed warnings and labels to your fic.

You don’t have to follow me, just tag me in your posts and use the Hashtag #JamiesHalloween2023. If I don’t reblog your story within 3 days, please DM me.

DEADLINE: October 31, 2023

I haven't done one of these in a while and I don't know if anyone will want to participate so no limits on characters or prompts. Each story will be amazing.

Thank you!

THE STORIES

The Closet of Desire by @nicoline1998enilocin

Bad Moon Rising by @spectre-posts

Toys 'R' Us by @americasass81

Seven Minutes Pt 1 & Pt 2 by @anika-ann

The Past Always Catches Up by @holylulusworld

Something Else by @nekoannie-chan

Spiked Candy by @nicoline1998enilocin

Embracing the Darkness by @americasass81

The Mysterious House on Easton Avenue by @talesofadragon

Circles by @the-soulofdevil

Taste Me on Your Tongue by @autumnrose40

[ellethespaceunicorn-masterlist]

Sebastian Stan Masterlist

Here you will find all of my Sebastian Stan works, arranged by character and type of work.

One-Shots

Something Old, Something New - Explicit - Nick Fowler x Reader - Your childhood best friend invites you to your old vacation spot for her wedding, and you have been catching up with your first crush: her recently divorced big brother Nick.

Events

Up A Creek | Lee Bodecker + Male Reader + Impact Play + “I told you, you would eventually start begging.” + Smut (Sweet Treats Events 2024)

Series

Bright Like The Moon (ongoing) - Justin is a minor character.

Events

COMING SOON

Events

COMING SOON

Bucky Barnes (Marvel)

Charles Blackwood (We Have Always Lived in the Castle)

Steve Kemp (Fresh)

Max (Sharper)

Nick Fowler (The 355)

Lee Bodecker (The Devill All The Time)

Chris (Destroyer)

Justin Capshaw (Law & Order)

I DO NOT WRITE RPF FOR SEBASTIAN

FULL MASTERLIST IS HERE.