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yespolkadotkitty · 5 years

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The Angel’s Share, pt 7

Written with the super talented @hopelessromanticspoonie

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

It was late, so late that the night had almost folded over into morning.

Thomas sat in the drawing room - one of the only downstairs rooms of his father’s to have been kept pristine in the selling of possessions to keep the wolves from the door in the lean times - with a snifter of Crimson Peak in his hand, staring out of the window, looking without seeing.

He missed his wolfhound. Baskerville had been a good boy; friendly, loyal. Thomas remembered curling up in front of the fire, sprawled over the giant dog’s belly, his little hands curled in the dog’s thick, warm-smelling fur.

Baskerville’s death by his father’s hand had been one of the darkest days of Thomas’ young life.

He was drawn from his miserable reverie - how most of his reveries went these days - by the creak of a floorboard.

“Gid? You’d better not be out of bed,” he called from his chair. The only light in the room came from the small lamp on the corner of the desk. The hallway and the remainder of the room sat in shades of grey.

Silence, then Kate’s voice.

“I didn’t know you had a curfew for guests, Fabio.”

He felt a smile spread across his face. “Sneaking about, are we?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Brooding, are we? It works better if you frown more, maybe narrow your eyes a bit. Curse God under your breath. You know.”

“Touche.” He had to work hard not to laugh. God, she elevated his mood. “Still, you might do well to remember that Allerdale is rumoured to be haunted.”

She stepped into the doorway silently. Her hair tumbled over one shoulder. Her feet were bare, the nails painted a bright blue. She wore jogging bottoms and a t-shirt that proclaimed ‘I AM FUCKING MAGNIFICENT’. With the moon shining a halo around her from the big hallway window, catching the lines of her delicate features and the curve of her lush hips, Thomas couldn’t disagree.

“Can I tempt you?” he asked, lifting the decanter of whiskey he’d placed on his father’s wide mahogany desk.

Her eyes narrowed a second, and he prepared for more snark. But instead she yawned, and then shrugged in agreement, crossing the room to drop on to the chair opposite his. Thomas loved the wingtip chairs, old as they were. In the good times, his father used to read to him, both of them cuddled up in these big chairs, and Thomas had felt happy and loved and secure on his father’s knee. The older man had smelled faintly of pipe smoke and mint. The scents still made Thomas melancholy to this day.

He poured Kate a small measure and handed her the glass. When she took it, their fingers brushed momentarily. He felt the electric contact. The fire leaping between them. If he ever took her to bed, he knew instantly that they’d set the sheets alight.

If I ever take her to bed. No one took Katherine Adams anywhere. You didn’t prepare for a woman like Kate, you simply buckled in and enjoyed the ride.

“Thanks,” she murmured, inhaling the spirit. “And to answer your question, I couldn’t sleep. Too quiet. I’m used to ambulances roaring past at all hours. Don’t suppose you could do me a favour and round up a couple of drunks to fight outside? That’d definitely send me off.”

“City girl,” he teased, rolling his eyes.

“Country toff.”

Their gazes met and held for a second, and Thomas felt that fire crackle between them again. Fuck, he wanted her.

“If we’ve learned anything over the last few days, surely it’s that appearances can be deceptive,” he said mildly.

Kate lifted her glass in a toast. “I agree, and yet you did insist on bringing me out here to see your frankly magnificent mansion in the middle of nowhere. You could have shown me a picture? Even a little video on your phone? But no. You wanted me to be here. In the country. To see the huge house. And what is probably a garden the size of a football pitch. So, toff.”

Thomas sipped his whiskey thoughtfully. “Maybe I just wanted you, Kate. Maybe it was never about the whiskey. You ever think about that?”

She coughed in surprise, a little of the spirit going down the wrong way. As she spluttered he abandoned his own drink and shot from his chair, rubbing a hand over her back to soothe and encourage her breathing. “There, darling. That’s it. Just breathe.”

Kate glared at him as she sucked in a breath. “You can sit down now, Dr McCoy. I’m hardly dying.”

He grinned. “And a Star Trek reference. Be still my beating heart, she’s back.”

*****

The combination of the whiskey burning down her throat and his hand searing through her thin t-shirt where it came to rest between her shoulder blades had a different heat coiling low in her belly. This close, with him hovering over her with such concern, the warm glow of the lamp catching on the angles of his face, it was all too much.

She ducked her chin to cough into her elbow, shaking her head as she cleared her throat. “You’re just lucky that I can’t breathe well enough to really lay into you, Sharpe.”

His hair created a curtain around them as he leaned over her, lending more intimacy to his gaze as it fell to her parted lips. “I look forward to that day, Katherine.”

The sound of her name in his rich baritone, full of dark promises, sent a shiver down her spine that he had to have felt with his hand still on her back. She needed to create space between them, and quickly, before her curiosity got the better of her. Her hand pushed lightly on his chest, the deep burgundy jumper deliciously soft beneath her fingertips. With the space she made, she could stand up and move over to the window. She felt she could breathe again without the heady cloud of citrus and bergamot that perfumed his skin surrounding her. She caught his heavy sigh at her retreat, but ignored it.

Searching frantically for a change of subject in the dark woods, she tapped the crystal in her hand with her fingertips. Her eyes caught on the twinkling of stars through the clouds, a sight she had been hoping to see since she had agreed to the journey. “The one benefit to being out here in the middle of nowhere is the sky. I’ve never seen so many stars before…”

The floorboards creaked and felt the heat of his body against her back as he came to a stop behind her. “Have you ever been to the countryside before, Katherine?”

Maybe it was the whiskey lowering her inhibitions, or the fact that her back was to him, or the stillness of the night begging for her to break the overwhelming quiet. Maybe it was his soft, imploring tone, genuinely wanting to know the answer to the question. Whatever it was, she opened up, just a bit, her face tilted up to the cool blue moonlight.

“Mum says that my biological dad, the glorified sperm donor, has a house out in the country somewhere. Lots of land, estate older than dirt, like this place. Something only someone with old money or who profited off the backs of others can afford.” She took a sip of her drink, relishing the bracing smokey alcohol scorching her throat even as her knuckles whitened to still the shake in her hands.

“He took her there, once, before he dropped her on her arse for having the gall to get pregnant with me - as if he had no part in it. He claimed she was chasing him for his money, his status in society, that she was just American trash looking for a way to lock him down.” Her humorless laugh tasted bitter on her tongue. “He still sent her money, even after all those accusations. Sends me the money now that I’m an adult. Neither of us have taken a pound of it. But raising a child alone in London is hard, expensive. There wasn’t really money to just take a trip anywhere, even a little cabin in the countryside. Maybe somewhere farther up north, with a fireplace and feet of snow all around…”

His hand settled on her upper arm, and she didn’t pull away. It was comforting, warm and large, anchoring her to the moment so that she couldn’t slide back into the darkness of her memories. She turned to him, resting her hip against the cool window as she regarded him thoughtfully.

Standing there, watching her with the same protective concern he had earlier on the stairs, he was beautiful. His crimson jumper seemed to infuse more color into his face, even with the dark gray button down underneath that just peeked out the top of the jumper’s neckline. Even when relaxing in his own home, he was well-dressed, a product of his privileged childhood through and through.

She felt like a gremlin in comparison with her hair mussed and bare feet peeking out from her pajama bottoms. She was common, nothing like him, and she never would be. She knew better than to let him get this close. The last time she had fallen for such a well-mannered, handsome package with expensive clothing, her heart had been torn to ribbons.

Some days, she felt like she still hadn’t collected all the pieces.

She couldn’t let that happen again, no matter how much she longed to know if Thomas’ lips would taste like the bittersweet whiskey on his breath as he gazed down at her. Her heart hammered in her eardrums when he shifted closer to her, his chest brushing against hers. The same look of desire that she had seen earlier before dinner flashed in his eyes. Sooty lashes touched his cheeks as his head tilted towards her. “Kate…”

Oh no. No no no. Panic raised its ugly head as her heart fluttered in her chest, desire warring with fear. Not fear of Thomas, but fear of heartbreak. Fear that loving the wrong man one more time would destroy her, throw her into a hole she’d never truly climb out from.

She pressed her back against the window, placing her free hand on his stomach to still his approach. It took every bit of willpower she had not to stroke the muscles there that clenched beneath her touch. “I… I should go back to bed. You promised me a tour of the grounds tomorrow, and I’ll need my rest to keep up with those long legs of yours, GQ.”

Ignoring the look of disappointment that pulled the curve of his lips downward, she retreated back to her designated room, still gripping onto her drink for dear life.

That was too close.

*****

The next morning, Kate was only mildly disoriented when she woke up to the sound of, well, nothing, besides her alarm blaring loudly in her ear. Pushing the frizzy mane of her hair out of her face, she stumbled out of bed, the previous night heavy on her mind as she went about her morning routine.

She had let him get too familiar, giving him an insight into her past when he hadn’t asked for it. It was foolish of her. His earnest demeanor and charming ease had pulled her in, hook, line, and sinker. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Tugging on her scuffed boots after she had finished dressing - today in a thin sweatshirt that read THIS IS WHAT A FEMINIST LOOKS LIKE and some denim cut offs - she left her room, braiding her hair over her shoulder as she trotted downstairs to find Thomas and get the day started. Maybe she could hurry him along and she wouldn’t have to stay another night. If she was lucky, she’d be on her little sofa by six pm, Netflix on and a fish and chip dinner on her lap.

“Sir Thomas Sharpe? Where you hiding? Let’s get going, Fabio!” she called down the hallway.

Gideon poked his dark head out from the dining room. “Missus Kate! Hello!”

Charmed, Kate stopped and smiled at him. “Hi there.”

“Looking for Uncle Thomas?”

“I sure am.”

Gideon offered his hand. “I’ll take you. He’s in the stables. Do you want breakfast first? Or coffee? Adults always seem to want coffee but it’s disgusting,” he added, scowling.

Kate had to laugh. She loved kids. They had no filter and hardly ever lied, at Gideon’s age anyway. “I would love some coffee. But I’ll make it, shall I?”

“Already done,” a voice from the kitchen called. Kate recognised Lucille’s dulcet tones and steeled herself for the perfectly presented Englishwoman. She’d already prepared herself to feel like a troll around Thomas’ regal sister.

Lucille didn’t disappoint today, her hair coiffed in a neat bun, dressed in darkwash, immaculate jeans and a sleek navy gillet. “Good morning.” She handed Kate a mug. “Black?”

“Perfect.” Kate sipped the inky black brew gratefully as Gideon tugged her hand.

“Come on! You’re missing the morning! Let’s go see the horses already!”

“Gideon,” Lucille cautioned, but Kate smiled and shrugged her shoulders dismissively.

“It’s really fine. I should be on a train back later anyway, so it’s good to get a jump on the day. I guess I’ll see you later.”

Lucille only smiled politely and went back to making breakfast - looked like some sort of bircher muesli concoction or something equally healthy and pretentious. Kate herself preferred pig in a bun of a weekend morning. She’d try and choke down some muesli later, maybe after another coffee. For now, she let Gideon lead her out of the house and down to where Thomas would be.

Permanent taglist: @arch-venus25 @amarisyousei @just-the-hiddles @brokenthelovely @wiczer @myoxisbroken @vodka-and-some-sass @nonsensicalobsessions

Angel’s share taglist: @rjohnson1280 @alexakeyloveloki @villainousshakespeare @wolfsmom1 @tamstrugglestowrite @trickstersteve @lucantis

Please ask to be added to either list :)

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marvelousbirthdays · 7 years

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Happy Birthday, webuiltthiscityonescargot!

September 13 - "Are you jealous?" Darcy/Thor for @webuiltthiscityonescargot smutty and/or fluffy

Written by @iamartemisday

A/N: This story takes place after TDW but is not Ragnarok compliant.

Darcy Lewis was absolutely not the jealous type. Ask anyone. Whenever she and a friend liked the same guy, she lived by the holy commandment of Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Best Friend's Crush. Such is why, when Jane got through her science boner and started making goo-goo eyes at Thor, a.k.a. Literally The Hottest And Best Guy Darcy Had Ever Known… she'd said, 'okay.' She'd done as the song said and let it go. Jane deserved a sexy god boyfriend more than anyone, herself included.

Ever since their skirmish with the Dark Elves, Jane had been disappearing for hours at a time for last minute 'conferences' (read: hot raunchy god sex). Erik was away on a six month long vacation for 'spiritual betterment' (read: to not go insane from all the superhero shenanigans), so Darcy was left alone to worry about what time Jane would be home every night. While she waited, she could imagine what a great time Jane must be having with Thor holding her, kissing her, pounding her into the mattress until the bed broke.

God, why hadn't Darcy made a move when she had the chance?

One morning, Jane didn’t come home. Darcy found Thor in the kitchen helping himself to a plate of waffles. Another, smaller stack swimming in syrup was on the table at Darcy’s usual spot.

"Good morning, Darcy," he said. "I hope you don't mind my making breakfast for you?"

"No, that's cool," Darcy said, curling her toes and wishing she was wearing something other than an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants. Here she was wearing a potato sack while Thor was over there making Fabio look like a gremlin.

"My apologies for coming on such short notice," Thor said as Darcy picked at her food, "but I'm afraid once you have finished your meal, you must come with me to Asgard immediately."

Darcy chewed slowly a bite of sugary sweet waffle. "Why?"

He chuckled, as if she'd told a joke. "Jane would've come herself, but she is in the middle of preparations for the ceremony. She is to become a permanent resident of Asgard and she hopes you will come to bear witness."

Darcy's heart dropped like a stone. One half of her wanted to kick the other half for not seeing this coming a mile away. "Just say it's a wedding, Dude. I can take the awful truth."

That one was a joke, and kind of a bad one. She was off her game and Thor was, of course, nice enough to force out another laugh and pat her on the shoulder. God in heaven, Jane didn't know how lucky she was. She really didn't.

"We have a dress ready for you which has been fitted to your size. Jane desires a quick ceremony. No frills, as she describes it."

"Yeah yeah. No problem."

Darcy performed her morning routine with the addition of washing her hair and applying makeup. She was ready in an hour as Thor waited patiently in front of the TV. He turned off a random episode of All My Days Of Our General Lives and cast an admiring glance her way.

"You are beautiful, Darcy," he said, his voice deepening.

'Is that how a man about to get married should talk?' Darcy thought but did not say. She probably should've, but couldn't bring herself to.

"You're not too shabby yourself," she said, holding out an arm to him. "Shall we?"

The trip to Asgard was rough. 'Rough' was, in fact, not a strong enough word to describe it, but Darcy had decided against linguistics as her minor and gone for history instead. The right word for traveling via bifrost couldn't exist in any human language anyway. Suffice to say, she was dizzy for ten minutes and would happily take a century long flight home when this was over.

Jane was not at the podium when Thor and Darcy entered the secret room in the palace where the wedding would take place, but Loki was.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Darcy pointed a quivering finger at Loki's bemused form. She'd never seen him in person before today, only on news feeds and internet conspiracy sites claiming he was a fabrication by the Illuminati to cover up a government conspiracy. He was much better looking than the grainy photos made him out to be, but last she checked, he was still one of the bad guys. Had she missed a memo somewhere?

"Unfortunately, it would take far too long to explain," Thor said, shooting a glare at Loki which was pointedly ignored.

At least now Darcy knew who the second witness was.

Jane arrived at that very moment, with the most impeccable timing Darcy had ever seen. She'd commend her friend for that alone. Dressed like a queen in a gold silk dress, she descended the stairs, grinning at Thor and a ‘barely-containing-her-tears’ Darcy. She moved fast for wearing heels, leaping off the bottom step and running-

Past Thor.

At Loki.

And then she was hugging him. And kissing him.

Jane was hugging and kissing Loki.

"What the hell? What? Why is-" Were Asgardians just really affectionate with their in-laws or was Darcy in the Twilight Zone right now?

"That is an even longer story," Thor said, reading her mind. "I myself have yet to learn the details."

"If you are finished talking amongst yourselves," Loki said, somehow tearing his face away from Jane's long enough to speak, "we would like to begin. Where is Heimdall?"

A man in shiny gold armor, presumably Heimdall, appeared through the same door as Jane. His timing was even better than hers. The ceremony was swift from there. Heimdall's frostiness towards Loki throughout was understandable, but he spoke warmly to Jane. He declared them husband and wife and the pair exchanged rings. This was clearly imported from Earth as Loki almost put it on her right hand. They sealed it with the kiss and before Darcy could finish clapping, they were gone with a swish of Loki’s cape.

"My brother is impatient," Thor laughed as Darcy blinked away the residual green light of magic. "We might see them sometime next month if they don't extend their honeymoon."

"Jane had better come home soon," Darcy said, folding her arms. "She's got a lot of explaining to do. How did she and Loki happen?"

"I confess I am mystified myself," Thor said, "but I have not seen Loki so happy since we were children. I would want nothing less for him or Jane."

"Yeah, me neither," said Darcy. Heimdall had bowed out of the room while they were talking, something Darcy had just noticed. That meant they were alone in what was essentially a cathedral, or at least a place where people got married. "So uh… I guess this means you and Jane are splitsville."

Thor furrowed his brow. "We decided to end our romantic connection and remain friends."

"Yeah," said Darcy. "Would be kind of hard now with the whole 'married to your brother' thing. I mean, I came here today thinking you'd be the one ravishing Jane right now. Which would be totally fine, and I would've been happy to cry my eyes out for my friend on her special day. Cry happy tears, that is. Not sad tears. That would be stupid..."

She trailed off and hoped Thor wouldn't catch on. The magazines back home which tried to paint him as the 'dumb blonde' of the Avengers had the exact opposite idea, though.

"You were jealous," he said.

Darcy let out a loud and dramatic (read: fake) gasp. "Jealous? Me? No. No no no no no… no, I'm not… no. No way. No. No…"

She bit her lip to shut herself up before she dug herself deeper. Judging by the look on Thor's face it was too late for that back at the first 'no'.

"I would not be concerned if you were, Darcy," Thor said. They'd stopped walking and his fingers crept down her arm to lace with hers. His hands were amazing. Big and strong and so so warm… "Forgive my forwardness, I know I haven't made an effort before now to visit with you privately, but I would like to have the opportunity to do just that if you would allow me."

With her free hand, Darcy gathered some skin on her leg through the dress and pinched herself as hard as she could. When she did not wake up alone on a cot in a cramped walk in closet of a bedroom, she concluded this was actually happening in reality.

"Well," Darcy said, pausing to take a deep breath, "I guess it kind of sucks when you have feelings for someone and you have to watch them be with someone else. I've been dealing with it okay, holding my head high and all that junk. But maybe I did still hope I'd get to be with the love of my life someday. Oh well, Jane is married now, so I guess you'll do."

Thor laughed uproariously, his gigantic arm wrapping around her shoulders. "Darcy, if you are serious, I will endeavor to make you forget such things."

"In that case, I'm two hundred percent serious," Darcy said. "Now get to endeavoring, big boy!"

He did, and it was the best night of Darcy Lewis's life.

So far...

#Darcy/Thor #HammerShock #fuckyeahdarcylewis

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