Thomas Sharpe/fem!Reader. Ghost/Human relationship. I am 100% here for ghost sex. I am also here for ghosts finding a way to become human again, if you are so inclined. Pregnant Reader. Pregnant sex is also something I am down to read about.
TW: Domestic abuse, domestic violence, abusive ex, divorce, pregnancy
You have left your abusive husband without telling him you're pregnant. When you left you weren't showing yet. You filed for divorce, asked for nothing. You didn't even ask for what you were legally entitled to. You only asked through your lawyer for his signature on the divorce papers.
You got it, with only a little stalling by your now-ex-husband. You hadn't a penny to your name.
You moved in with your parents and when you told them what he had done to you and that you were afraid of him, they gave you as much money as they could and you left. You didn't tell them where you were going and they didn't ask, thinking it was safer if even they didn't know.
You moved across the pond to England where you bought a dilapidated old mansion that was supposed to be haunted and used a good portion of the money you had left to have it made livable and not dangerous. It was still less money than if you had bought a new house. This mansion was big and it was in a remote area of a completely different country and continent. You felt safe here from your abusive ex-husband.
You hadn't counted on a real ghost. You hadn't believed it when you had been told it was haunted. Why would you?
At first the haunting began in ways you could explain away. A trick of the light, a trick of your mind thinking your ex-husband was around every corner, the extreme quiet or solitude getting to you, your imagination.
But then after a bath when you walked into your bedroom naked, you saw a man standing in your bedroom.
Your first instinct was to protectively cover the slight swell of your pregnant belly. But when you demanded to know who it was, the man turned to you. He was handsome, he said nothing and let his eyes roam your body until they came to rest on your belly. And then he faded to nothing and was gone.
He had been quite handsome and he wore old-fashioned clothing.
Another time, unseen but gentle hands wound yout hair into a beautiful braid while you watched with wide eyes in the mirror of your vanity.
Things you needed just seemed to appear for you. Especially when the pregnancy had you feeling unwell.
And then one night, two weeks into living at the house, you felt someone get into the bed with you, a distinctive dip in the mattress and a masculine body pressed up against yours.
You gasped, your sleepy mind thinking your ex-husband had found you and had come to...
"Shhh, my dear. It is only me," a masculine voice as smooth and rich as black velvet.
It belonged to no one you knew, but you had done research and found information on the former owner of this house and how he had died young.
"Sir Thomas Sharpe?" you murmured softly.
"Yes." The ghost of the beautiful man spoke the word against the flesh of your throat.
"What are you doing?" You asked, voice trembling just a little. You should be afraid, but you weren't. Your voice trembled for a completely different reason.
"I saw the dream you were having. You have needs, and I was a husband once. I know how to help you. I am good at it, I promise you," he said, softly.
You thought that was awfully bold for a man from his time period, but he had been alone for far longer than you had.
His hand slid over the swell of your pregnant belly and down further, the ghostly fingers finding their way between your legs.
You gave a soft gasp followed quickly by a moan. You leaned back into him, turned toward him and opened your legs as you looked up into his eyes.
He looked and felt corporeal enough to you at the moment. Maybe you were dreaming again. Maybe you weren't. But you had been so desperate for the touch of a man and had no outlet for it for a while now. Your hand wasn't good enough, your vibrator could make you come but it didn't truly satisfy that itch.
You didn't care about consequences. This man was either a figment of your imagination or he a ghost, but he still felt safer than your ex or any strange living man you could bring home.
"Alright..." you whisper softly.
And then he got to work proving his words true and satisfying that itch for you in a way it never had been before.
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