#comforting charles blackwood | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months ago

Text

Two of a Kind 7

Masterlist

NO TAGS. Don't ask.

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

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

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

Note: :)

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

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I opened a window."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

👄

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's going on?" Charles asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#charles blackwood #ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark charles blackwood #dark!charles blackwood #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #charles blackwood x reader #knives out #we have always lived in the castle #drabble #series #two of a kind #au #multifandom

129 notes · View notes

theinheriteddutchess · 1 month ago

Text

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."

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #lord au #fanfiction #Chris Evans fanfiction #lord!Ransom Drysdale #Charles blackwood x reader #Charles blackwood

20 notes · View notes

goodqueenaly · 7 months ago

Note

since you clearly know your history, do you think aegon iv's situation with his mistresses while he was king was handled realistically? weren't official king's mistresses married off before taking on their positions because any bastard children sired needed a legal father? falena was married off but there's no mention of barba, melissa, or the other women after aegon iv ascended having husbands. i mean, obviously barba needed to be unwed so she could have a chance of becoming queen but if melissa wanted to establish herself as a non-grasping replacement, shouldn't she go get a husband so naerys, aemon, and daeron couldn't feel threatened? and even if melissa was a super nice person, how she could she remain "well-loved" at court while publicly having bastards and one of them is an albino? wouldn't her reputation be ruined if aegon iv dropped her and she remained unmarried after that?

I think the historical record is somewhat mixed on that point. Think of, for example, GRRM’s, ugh, favorite point of reference for Aegon IV, Henry VIII (yeah, I know): Bessie Blount was not married at the time she was in a relationship with the king (and conceived Henry Fitzroy with him), though she did marry after her son’s birth, while it’s entirely unclear when Mary Boleyn married relative to when she and Henry VIII had their relationship (and, of course, Henry offered to make Anne Boleyn his mistress while she was unmarried). Likewise, if we look to Charles II - another inspiration, I think, for Aegon IV, no less so because I tend to think he named Barba Bracken after Charles’ long-term mistress Barbara Villiers, Duchess of Cleveland - the record is far from one-sided: Barbara herself, for example, was married during their relationship of course, but the king’s two primary mistresses at the end of his life, Louise de Kerouaille and Nell Gwynn, were both unmarried for the whole of their lives (and as much as James Scott, Duke of Monmouth, Charles’ eldest extramarital son, might have claimed that Charles had married his mother, Lucy Walter, when the two were exiles in the Netherlands, Charles himself vehemently denied the supposed marriage, which had no evidence of its existence otherwise). Too, Louis XIV - not perhaps explicitly cited by GRRM as an inspiration for Aegon the Unworthy, but certainly a king famous for his love affairs - had both married and unmarried mistresses: while Louise de La Vallière was unmarried (and later ended her life as a repentant nun), the Marquise de Montespan did have a husband (who notoriously held a “funeral” for his wife after she became the king’s mistress); the widower King Louis did, almost certainly, end up marrying his last mistress, the similarly widowed Marquise de Maintenon. (There is also the story that when one of Louis’ early loves, Marie de Mancini, married her eventual husband, Prince Colonna, the prince was surprised to discover that his wife was a virgin, as he said he had not expected to find “innocence among the loves of kings”.) Again, these are only a very few, very limited examples, but I think it’s fair enough to say that GRRM could have felt, let’s say somewhat historically comforted by having Aegon IV’s mistresses be (mostly) unmarried women.

In any event, I don’t think it was a necessity that Melissa Blackwood be married in order for her to be seen as unthreatening to the queen. While the details of Melissa’s life, especially her time as Aegon’s mistress, are frustratingly thin and vague based on our current knowledge, it does seem that Melissa went out of her way to curry favor with Queen Naerys, Prince Daeron, and Prince Aemon - a step that Barba Bracken almost certainly never took, if she was looking to replace Naerys as queen (and perhaps have her son Aegor replace Daeron as heir). It is also worth pointing out, of course, that in the aftermath of Barba’s, and probably more generally Lord Bracken’s and his faction’s, failed attempt to have Barba marry the king, Melissa and whatever faction was supporting her may have emphasized that Melissa had no such ambitions in order to distinguish her from the disgraced former mistress. Additionally, the fact that Melissa did not have a son with the king until a few years after their relationship began may have also served as some reassurance to the queen, Prince Daeron, and Prince Aemon: not only, perhaps, did Melissa appear not to want to replace the queen, but she had no ready would-be heir, as Barba had had, to promote in place of Daeron and strengthen her ambition to create a new royal family.

Naturally, because we know nothing about why Melissa was sent away from court, or what happened to her after, we have no idea how her brief years as the king’s chief mistress affected her life or her socio-political prospects thereafter. I do tend to think that Melissa didn’t live a long life after leaving court, though when and how she might have died is obviously completely unclear. In any event, though, I could see where Melissa’s positive reputation, especially if she died relatively young, might have been preserved at court: the kind-hearted, widely beloved young woman, perhaps driven from the court by those no-good-very-bad Brackens who had then replaced her with a “faithless” mistress. Once King Daeron II came to the throne himself, the new king may have been even more inclined to think fondly of the woman who had treated himself and his late mother and uncle with respect and deference, where few if any other of his father’s mistresses had - “better this mistress than any other”, perhaps, to paraphrase the Queen of France on the subject of her husband’s beloved mistress, Madame de Pompadour. (Naturally as well, once Bloodraven came into power and influence, especially after the First Blackfyre Rebellion, he would likely have done much to promote the positive legend of his mother, especially in contrast to the surviving reputation of Barba Bracken - a legacy that I think will be central to the conflict of “The Village Hero”).

It’s also worth pointing out that while King Aegon’s identified chief mistresses after his ascension seem to have been unmarried young women, this is not to say that the king probably limited his sexual liaisons during his reign only to these individuals. After all, Yandel notes in his overview of Daeron II’s reign that during Aegon IV’s rule, the men of the City Watch of King’s Landing whom the king promoted “made sure that the brothels—and even the decent women of the city—were available for Aegon’s lusts”; I think it’s probably fair to say Yandel likely included “married” in his definition of “decent”. Moreover, while Yandel identified Jeyne Lothston as Aegon IV’s chief mistress after the downfall of Bethany Bracken, the maester-author also suggested that the king “enjoyed mother and daughter together in the same bed”, after Falena Lothston (nee Stokeworth) brought young Jeyne to court (a disturbing rumor, of course, when paired with the additional suggestion by Yandel that Jeyne had been fathered by the king, not Lord Lucas). I fully expect that when we learn more about Aegon IV’s reign (especially given the, ugh, high likelihood of even more unnecessary sexual exploits to be highlighted in Fire and Blood Volume 2), Aegon’s omnivorous sexual desire, including for married women, will be underlined.

#asoiaf meta #aegon iv targaryen #melissa blackwood #mistresses of aegon iv

46 notes · View notes

sergeantbarnessdoll · 5 months ago

Text

Sebastian Stan characters finding out you’re pregnant » Charles Blackwood

Pairings: Charles Blackwood x Female Reader

Summary: Charles finds out you’re pregnant.

Warnings: Fluff, language, pet names

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

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

Charles would have the biggest smile on his face when he hears the words “I’m pregnant.” come out of your mouth.

He would kiss you till you’re breathless.

He would get on his knees and talk to your soon to be baby bump and say “Hi, little one. I’m your daddy. Your mommy is here too.”

His cousins being happy for you guys.

Him holding you and comforting while you’re crying.

Charles would get you your favorite flowers once a week.

You and him brainstorming names for the baby.

Charles wouldn’t mind what the gender of the baby is just as long as he or she is healthy.

Him giving you any kind of massage you can think of.

He would love the way your baby bump looks in dresses.

Him walking up to you when you’re not paying attention and wrapping his arm around you from behind, putting his hands on your growing baby bump.

Charles telling the baby that he or she has the most beautiful mommy in the world.

You waking Charles up early in the morning, because you have a craving for something so he goes out and buys it. You crying when he gets home cause you feel bad for waking him up early.

Charles telling you how beautiful you are.

Him giving your belly soft kisses.

Him doing chores around the house so you can relax.

Lots of cuddles, kisses, hugs, and “I love you’s”.

Him being completely astonished every time the baby kicks.

You and him coming up with what to design the nursery.

You watching him build the crib.

You wanting to buy every article of baby clothing cause of how cute they are.

You buying way too many stuffed animals for the baby.

You feeling insecure and Charles makes all of your insecurities go away just by saying “You’re beautiful.”

Charles talking to the baby at night before he goes to bed.

Over all, Charles would be overly happy to have a baby with you.

#charles blackwood #we have always lived in the castle #sebastian stan #sebby stan #seb stan #sebastian stan characters #charles blackwood x female reader #charles blackwood x pregnant reader #charles blackwood x reader #charles blackwood x y/n #charles blackwood x you #charles blackwood fluff #charles blackwood one shot #charles blackwood imagine #charles blackwood headcanon #charles blackwood drabble #charles blackwood blurb

21 notes · View notes

punemy-spotted · 1 year ago

Text

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;

79 notes · View notes

yanderemcu · 5 months ago

Text

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. "

#yandere #Yanderecharlesblackwood #charles blackwood #charles blackwood x reader #we have always lived in the castle #sebastian stan #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere boy

10 notes · View notes

andydrysdalerogers · 8 months ago

Text

Presley ~ A Curtis Everett AU ~ Epilogue

Curtis Everett x OFC Presley Adams

Synopsis:

Curtis Everett is a hard working man. As the head of the mob of Concord, he does everything he can to provide for his wife and children. His life is perfect. Until it's not.

After a devastating accident, Curtis is alone with his children and needs some serious help.

Presley Adams needs to find work and fast. Running from her past she just wants to lay low and earn enough to get her out of town. Until she starts working for Curtis as his live in nanny.

As she falls in love with this family, can she stop her past from finding her? Or will her past be the end of the Everett reign in Concord?

Book two of the Five Kings of Boston series

Warning: themes of a mafia lifestyle; SMUT; possessive tendencies; murder; death; age gap; rape

Banners by me! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated

Previous: part Eight

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Seven months later...

Presley

I find myself sitting in the window seat of our room a lot. Since that day in Jersey, my comfort is here, where Curtis used to hold me as we watched the sunset or the sunrise. Its where I would read to Evie and Josh while we waited for Curtis to come home. Its my safe place, where I feel the most at peace.

I don’t remember much after Curtis lost consciousness. I just remember that I was screaming for Curtis to wake up. I felt someone hold me, I think it was Clint pulling me away from his as the othr members of our team rushed to work on Curtis. I woke up in the hospital with Clint waiting for me.

“Clint?”

“Hey Pres.” He came over and kissed my forehead. “I’m glad you’re awake. The kids have been asking for you.”

The door opened just then and Josh and Evie peeked around. “Mama!” They ran to my bed and climbed in. I cried as I held and kissed my children. They were safe and I didn’t lose them. They held on to me like I could disappear. After a while, they fell asleep on me. I wouldn’t move them for the world.

Clint took a seat next to me. “Obviously, Blackwood is dead.” He sighed. “Pres, I’m sorry but we found your father in the old playhouse. He left you a letter.” He placed an envelope on the bedside table. “Adam made it and is recovering at Concord General.”

“What about Nat?”

Clint went to open his mouth when the door opened again. Nat shuffled in, dragging her IV pole with her. “I’m ok,” she whispered with tears in her eyes. Clint got up to allow her to sit.

“Nat is good,” Clint said with a smile. “One bullet hit the weak side of her vest and the other was in the vest. Some blood loss but obviously she’s good.”

“And Curtis?”

Before Clint or Nat could answer, a doctor came in. “Miss Adams, I’m Doctor Sloan. How are you feeling?”

“Sore and a little confused.”

“Understandable, given the circumstances. Your tests came back clear, it think it was just the shock.” He stopped for a second. “I do have something to discuss with you. But if we want to have the discussion in private...”

“No, you can speak in front of them.”

It was news that would change my life.

I sighed as I looked at the letter from my father.

Lia,

It devastates me to know that your entire life and the actions that have happened were my fault and you suffered for it. It took you being gone from my life for the last six years to realize what I had done.

I failed you.

I want you to know, I didn’t physically kill your mother. Charles pulled the trigger after she refused to say where you went. I was angry and I let it happen. I am responsibie for your mother’s death. I didn’t follow her because once I was clear-headed, i knew I needed to do anything and everything to keep you safe.

I have spoken to Curtis. He loves and cares for you so much. I hope that you are happy with him. As happy as your mother and I were before I messed it all up.

I’ve left everything to you, Lia. The family will already has instructions to merge with the Everett family. They were very tired of Charles and would only transition if you were listed as the head of the family.

I hope that you and Curtis have a wonderful life together. I love you, Lia.

Your father, Mario

I think I’ve read this letter a thousand times since it was given to me. For some reason, it gives me peace, knowing that my mother’s murder had died at my own hand. I mourn the loss of my father. My head leans against the glass as a tear slides down. All the loss I have endured make my heart hurt. I look down at the belly protruding from my body and hope that this little one doesn’t have to experience more. She is the miracle we had dreamed about before... before everything had changed.

We are sitting where I am now, leaning into Curtis. He is kissing my shoulder before he breathes, “Would you want to have children, Kitten?”

“With you? “I asked with a giggle

He nips at my ear. “Brat. Yes, with me.”

“We have children.”

“Kitten,” he growled in warning.

I giggle louder before I turn in his lap to face him. “Yes, love. I would love to make our family bigger.”

I wipe my eyes, but the hormones don’t allow the tears to stop. I don’t hear the door open but I hear...

“Kitten, are you okay?”

Curtis

I had been watching my Presley from the door way for the last few moments. I could see she was floating back into her memories. Memories I wish she didn’t have.

Fuck did everything hurt. That was the first thing I noticed. The second was the noise, a constant beeping. And then I heard it, the quiet prayer being said, begging God to bring me back to her.

To bring me back to my Presley.

I felt her delicate skin in my hand. She is alive, crying and praying, but alive. I squeeze her hand a little and she gasps.

“Curtis? Baby, can you hear me?”

“Heaven,” i croak out.

“Baby?”

“See an angel,” I say before the darkness takes over.

I can feel wetness on my hand and weight next to it. I go to pat the weight and try to open my eyes but its too bright. I feel the softness of her hair.

“Kitten.”

“Curtis? Baby are you with me?”

“Heaven,” I sigh before I try to blink my eyes again. And then I see it. Her eyes. Her beautiful, red rimmed eyes. A reminder of everything I could have lost. “Presley.”

“Curtis!” She leans against my arm and sobs rack her body.

“I’m here Kitten. I’m here.”

“Kitten, what’s wrong?” I kneeled in front of my pregnant fiancé, worried that something had hurt her. I ran my hands over her, stopping on her belly as I felt my daughter kick.

“I’m ok,” she hiccups. “Just remembering.”

“Why baby? Its in the past. WE made it. We’re here.” After I woke up, I wasted no time to put a ring on her finger. Especially after she told me that she was 10 weeks pregnant. Our miracle survived her kidnapping and assault. I have never been a man of faith. But I couldn’t help but send a prayer of thanks that my girls were physically ok. Now, we had to deal with the mental healing that Presley was going through.

“I know but it scares me because of who we are and what power we hold. How we’ll protect them. How they will never meet my parents. I just get lost in my head.”

I knew she would never get over it completely, but she was strong. She was resilient. She is my Queen. However, there were days like today where she had to deal with the reality that hurt her heart. She lost both of her parents and killed a man. It was a lot. I had faith she would make it to the other side. “I know sweetheart. But I will never let something like this happen again. I love you.” I kiss her softly.

“I love...oh,” she stops, clutching at her belly.

I froze. “Pres?”

“I think that was a contraction,” she says with a tremble.

I smile. “Okay, let’s get you downstairs.”

Fourteen hours later, I’m staring at my sleeping girl while holding my sleepy baby girl. “Chloe Amelia, you have no idea how much you are loved,” Iisay, swaying to invisible music. I look out the window, thanking the heavens that the birth was not complicating, just exhausting for Presley.

I finally feel complete.

I’m putting my girl down to sleep when my phone buzzes. I take a look since I had annouced my daughters arrival to the Kings and the Don.

Levinson: Your daughter is beautiful. Everett: Thanks man. Levinson: I’m sorry to do this today but I think I’m in trouble Everett: are you ok? Levinson: Physically, fine. Emotionally, questionable. Everett: I’m going to need more Levinson: Jennie left. We had an arguement and I took it too far Levinson: I need to find her before he does

Never a quiet moment as a King of Boston. Guess I need to make plans to visit Camden.

The End

The Don takes a sip of his scotch as he looks at his phone with the latest princess of the family. but he also sees a message from the King of Camden

Camden: I didn’t mean what I said to her. please help me find her.

He sighed. He had two kings settled. Three to go.

Taglist:

@patzammit

@texmexdarling

@slutforchrisjamalevans

@firephotogrl74

@tinkerbelle67

@before-we-get-started

@bunnyforhim

@alexakeyloveloki

@sunnyhummingbee

@whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@peaceinourtime82

@kmc1989

@saucy-sassy-sparkly

@lokislady82

#dy's shenanigans #andy's hea #chris evans fanfiction #curtis everett #curtis Everett au #chris evans au #chris evans smut #Curtis Everett smut #mob story #five kings of boston series #Presley #Curtis Everett x ofc #ofc Presley Adams #Presley - FKOB #chris evans

14 notes · View notes

georgiapeach30513 · 8 months ago

Note

Hi, Jen. It's me again. The Desperate Lives AU Anon... So, the link to the Masterlist works, but the actual Phases may have been aftected too... Could use a little bit more help, please 🥺 sorry to be a bother

5 notes · View notes

itsybitchylittlewitchy · 2 years ago

Text

Not me crying at this message. I really needed to hear this. Frankly I've given up believing I'm good enough for anyone.

To my fellow fanfiction readers,

When you're feeling alone, when you're sad, scared, lost, when you feel broken please try and remember this.

Your comfort character? Would absolutely adore you. They would think you were amazing, flaws and all. They would sit with you when you cried, they'd help you through every hardship.

They're here sweetheart, they're waiting for you, waiting for you to find the new story of your love, to revisit how you first met. They're so ready to fall in love with you all over again, and they will. Because they adore you. So please take care or yourself sweet one, they'd be so lost without you.

So what will it be tonight, friends to lovers? A/B/O? The one bed trope? Found family? Will you find eachother again after a time apart? Will it be smut or fluff? Love at first sight? Enemies to lovers? It's always exciting to start again isn't it? To rediscover how much you adore them.

I hope tomorrow is easier to live through than today, that you find that fic you're looking for, that safe place to land.

Remember your comfort character believes in you and so do I, the random girl on Tumblr, scrolling along with you, trying to make sure no one feels as alone as when they started. You are loved, matter, you are worth everything.

~💛❤True

5K notes · View notes

lanabuckybarnes · 6 months ago

Text

| Request/Ask Rules |

| I write for a female reader, I try to remain as inclusive as possible. Any women used in my photo headers are not how I see reader and are not how reader is supposed to look. Reader is you and I will try my best to keep that level of anonymity to her, that being said I am still human and it can slip through the cracks, I hope you can forgive anything that does.

| Most of my work will be 18+ so Minors DNI, I will block you if I catch you however I’m not responsible for what you consume it is up to you to make that decision by yourself.

| I do on occasion post dark content on my page. All works will be appropriately tagged and warnings will be posted alongside the work itself, if any of them trigger you DO NOT read, if you think they’ll trigger you refer to my previous words. Read at your own risk and if there is anything that you don’t think you’ll like I hope there will be something else for you.

| Since this whole thing is completely new to me I’m still figuring out what I am and what I’m not comfortable writing.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

| Writing |

- I WILL WRITE -

Smut, Fluff, Angst, Soft, Dark, AU’s (I love them), Age difference (characters are legal ages), Polyamory, Dub Con, Non Con, CNC, Dom/Sub, Somnophilia, Cockwarming, Sex Pollen, Breeding, Daddy Kink, Mommy Kink, Praise, Degradation, Humiliation (depends), Breeding, Chase, Breath Play, Weapon Play, Sensory Deprivation, Overstimulation, Edging, Bondage, A/B/O, Stepcest, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Dacryphilia - Feel free to ask if there is something you want but not on here

- I WILL NOT WRITE -

RPF, pedophilia, bestiality, necrophilia, incest, race play, watersports, underage scenarios, scat play, cheating between "main" couple, miscarriage.

| Who I Write For |

- SEBASTIAN STAN CHARACTERS -

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier, Lee Bodecker, Max Burnett, Steve Kemp, Lance Tucker, Nick Fowler, Charles Blackwood, Mickey Henry, God the Bounty Hunter, Chris Destroyer

- CHRIS EVANS CHARACTERS -

Steve Rogers, Ari Levinson, Andy barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale, Jake Jensen, Johnny Storm, Pete Brenner, Curtis Everett

I hope you enjoy reading my works and if you feel like requesting please do I’m always looking to talk, hear your filthy thoughts and be inspired 💚💚

6 notes · View notes

furniturestoresouthafrica · 6 months ago

Video

youtube

Solid Wood Furniture Shopping in Cape Town & Online in South Africa

The Evolution of Solid Wood Modern Furniture and Modern Industrial Style Furniture: A Comprehensive Overview History and DevelopmentOrigins of Solid Wood FurnitureSolid wood furniture has a rich history dating back to ancient civilizations. In Egypt, craftsmen used wood to create functional and decorative items, while in ancient Greece and Rome, furniture design evolved to incorporate intricate carvings and marquetry. The use of solid wood became a symbol of durability and craftsmanship, a tradition that continues to this day. Emergence of Modern FurnitureThe modern furniture movement began in the late 19th and early 20th centuries as a reaction to the ornate and elaborate designs of the Victorian era. Influenced by the Bauhaus school and designers like Charles and Ray Eames, modern furniture emphasized simplicity, functionality, and the beauty of natural materials. Solid wood became a preferred material due to its timeless appeal and structural integrity. Rise of Industrial Style FurnitureThe industrial style emerged in the early 20th century, inspired by the raw and utilitarian aesthetic of factories and warehouses. This style gained popularity in the 1960s and 1970s, particularly in urban lofts and converted industrial spaces. It is characterized by exposed steel, concrete, and brick, with wood playing a key role in adding warmth and contrast to the otherwise stark environments. Trends in Design and Current StylesModern Solid Wood FurnitureMinimalist Aesthetics: Modern solid wood furniture often features clean lines and minimalistic designs. The focus is on the natural beauty of the wood, with finishes that highlight its grain and texture. Sustainable Practices: As sustainability becomes increasingly important, many manufacturers, like Eco Furniture Design, are committed to using certified sustainable sources and environmentally friendly finishes. Customization and Versatility: Consumers today seek personalized pieces that fit their unique spaces. Modular and multifunctional furniture designs are on the rise, catering to smaller living spaces and changing lifestyles. Modern Industrial Style FurnitureRaw Materials: Industrial style furniture prominently features raw and reclaimed materials. Metal, wood, and concrete are commonly used, creating a rugged and robust look. Mixed Media: Combining different materials, such as wood with steel or glass, adds an element of sophistication and uniqueness to industrial furniture. This blend of materials can be seen in dining tables, shelving units, and lighting fixtures. Open Spaces and Functional Design: Industrial style thrives in open-plan spaces. Furniture pieces are designed to be functional and durable, often with a vintage or distressed finish that adds character. Industry Insights and Popular ProductsIndustry InsightsThe solid wood and modern industrial furniture markets are experiencing significant growth. This trend is driven by a consumer preference for high-quality, durable, and sustainable products. According to a report by Grand View Research, the global market for wood furniture is expected to reach USD 687.6 billion by 2027, growing at a CAGR of 5.1% from 2020 to 2027. Popular ProductsSolid Wood Dining Tables: Dining tables made from oak, ash, and blackwood are perennial favorites. Their sturdy construction and timeless design make them a focal point in both modern and traditional homes. Industrial Style Shelving Units: These units often combine metal frames with wooden shelves, offering both storage and display options. They are popular in loft apartments and contemporary homes. Customizable Sofas and Sectionals: Modular sofas that can be rearranged to fit different spaces are highly sought after. Upholstered in durable fabrics with wooden accents, they blend comfort with style. Quotes"Good design is making something intelligible and memorable. Great design is making something memorable and meaningful." - Dieter Rams "Furniture must have personality, as well as be beautiful." - Rose Tarlow ConclusionThe evolution of solid wood modern furniture and modern industrial style furniture reflects a blend of tradition, functionality, and contemporary aesthetics. As sustainability and personalization become paramount, these styles will continue to adapt and thrive. Manufacturers committed to quality and eco-friendly practices, like Eco Furniture Design, are at the forefront of this dynamic industry, offering products that are not only stylish but also built to last. #shopfurniture #furnitureshops #capetown #southafrica #online #solidwood #bespoke #locallyhandmade

#youtube

0 notes

randomperson351 · 3 years ago

Text

Charles will make it better - CB*

Summary: Charles isn’t happy when he catches you in the midst of a panicked phone call to Constance when you run out of period products. Charles doesn’t like it when you think he can’t take care of all your needs. Charles will make it better, he always does.

Warnings: Charles gets a little smutty but only mildly and very briefly.

Do not repost or rewrite any of my work. Minors and ageless blogs get blocked.

Masterlist

“It’s not a joke, Constance, please!”

Charles frowned at the desperation and sheer panic he heard in your voice as you spoke on the phone. All you’d said to him was could you use his office phone so that you could call Constance, who you’d been friends with since school.

Of course he’d agreed, he wouldn’t deny you anything. But what he assumed would be a phone call where he could hear your giggles floating through the house had actually been a phone call begging his cousin to come to the house bringing a list of urgently requested items. He couldn’t hear the whole list, but from what he did hear he put it together in a flash.

Painkillers.

Heatpatches.

Dark chocolate.

Pads.

At first, and admittedly rather stupidly, Charles asked himself what you could need a pad of paper for. But then, oooohh, he understood.

Charles’ face hardened at your complete lack of faith in his abilities. He was a man, not some stupid, immature boy. He could handle such a simple task as going shopping, and he was going to make sure you knew.

Constance was halfway through a question when the phone line went dead. Gazing out the window and into the garden meant your back was turned to the door, so you didn't see nor hear him enter the office and end the phone call until you turned around to redial and were met with a very displeased Charles.

"Charles, what's wrong?" You asked straight away, you hadn't known he'd heard your begging to his cousin on the phone so assumed that something must've happened while you were occupied.

"What do I always tell you kitten?" He began calmly, straightening his posture and walking around the desk to be face to face with his sweetness. "What have I always said, hmm?"

"You have to work hard to reap reward, unless you're smart?" You guessed, unsure where he was going with this.

"W-well yes but not the one I was thinking of. Try again my kitten."

"Rich man's trash is a poor man's treasure?" You tried again.

"No-"

"If anyone hurts you I'll cut out their fucking tongue-"

"I will always take care of you, of anything, forever." Charles cut in your guessing and stepped forward to cup your face, lovingly kissing your forehead and his hands finding yours to hold. “And I mean it when I say anything.”

You got what Charles was hinting at and cursed yourself for not being more observant about your surroundings. It still wasn’t something you thought he’d be completely comfortable with though, so, when backed into a corner; deny, deny, deny.

“I don’t know what you mean Charles, I know you’ll take care of me, you always have.” You looked up at him.

Oh my darling, have I really led you to believe I’ll fall for something so obvious? Charles tsked and took you by the hand, leading you upstairs and into your shared bathroom.

“You take a bath kitten, I’ll be back before you know it.” He kissed your hand and took a step back but stopped when he heard you speak.

“But where are you going?”

He came back to you and cupped your face in his hands, bending down to barely kiss your lips and give them a teasing nip. “I’m going to take care of you.” He whispered against your lips. Charles turned the water on for the bath and turned you to face away from him so he could unzip your dress. His hands ran over every inch of newly exposed skin, his lips following closely behind until the material dropped to the floor and left you in your underwear. Charles delicately unhooked your bra and added that to the pile of clothes and reached down to rid you of your panties as well when your hands gripped his wrists, stopping his movements.

“I can do that part.” You whispered. But Charles was having none of it.

“Darling just trust me, when I said I wanted to be with all of you, for better or worse, I meant it. Please, my love, let me love this part of you too.” He begged, running his hands up your sides.

You took a deep breath and just decided; fuck it, he asked. You nodded and exhaled an ‘okay’ and then Charles’ hands were off again. He slowly started pulling your panties down so he could stop quickly if you asked him to, letting them drop to the floor when they got to your knees. He quickly lent over to turn the water off before getting down on his knees behind you, placing his hands around your bum so that his thumbs were on your inner thighs; pulling your cheeks apart and exposing your pussy to him.

Poor thing, she’s all red. Charles lent in and smothered his face into your exposed pussy, giving your hole a loving kiss before leaning back and turning you by your hips, making sure to give the front of your pussy as much love as the back. When he stood up Charles had a red stained mouth with your blood dripping down his chin to the floor. He caught a drip with his finger and sucked it clean, offering you his other hand to help you into the bath.

With mouth hanging open in shock, you accepted and stepped cautiously into the tub, sitting down and trying to relax into the warmth the water offered.

Charles smiled, pleased that you were finally letting him help you and crouched down beside you.

"I'll just be a minute darling, okay?"

You nodded and smiled at him, kissing his cheek when he leaned in to kiss yours.

"Good girl."

Apparently Charles had been gone longer than 'just a minute' because by the time he was making his way back to the bathroom, you were out cold sleeping.

He chuckled quietly at the adorable sight and set the bag of supplies down on the floor as he knelt beside the bathtub, admiring your peaceful face before waking you.

"I'm home my love, do you want to start waking up for me?" Charles slipped a hand behind your neck to support your head incase you jolted and sunk beneath the water.

He held in a laugh at your frown at being woken up and stroked gently down your arm with his unoccupied hand to keep you roused. You finally opened your pretty eyes for him and he looked so lovingly at you.

"Hello sweetheart, did you have a good nap?"

You stretched your neck and smiled at him, nodding in confirmation. But, then you looked at the water and the smile fell along with a hot, red blush attaching itself all over your face.

Charles looked at you concerned and looked at the water to see what the problem was, to find you mortified that it had turned a pink colour from your blood.

He huffed and lifted your chin with two fingers, yet you refused to meet his eyes, far too embarrassed.

"I don't need to remind you that I literally stuck my face in at the source of that, right?"

“Oh God.” You covered your face and sat up, the now cold water sloshing at your waist. You heard Charles sigh before he was lifting you out from the water, bridal style, and turning on the shower.

“Charles-”

“Just let me take care of you.”

What you hadn’t seen was Charles stripping down and stepping in with you, warm hands resting on your little belly and smoothing over it in soft circles.

At last he felt you ease up and rest more of your weight against him, eyes closing in calmness and swaying slightly on the balls of your feet.

“That’s it my kitten, let me take care of everything while you rest. You’ve had a long week, but I couldn’t be more proud of you. I love you darling.” He praised softly in your ear making you smile. Oh this man.

“I love you more.”

“I love you most.”

#randomperson351 #charles blackwood #comforting charles blackwood #period comfort #charles blackwood period comfort #fluffy charles blackwood #charles blackwood fluff #mentioned constance blackwood #semi smut #charles blackwood x female reader #do not repost

45 notes · View notes