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#reader x thomas sharpe
jokeringcutio · 6 months
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I see you have Crimson Peak listed for fics 👀
Picture this: Sir Thomas Sharpe doesn't have a sister and was never abused, therefore never got into the black widower routine. He's just a struggling inventor in London to wrangle investors for his machine because he's the last of his crumbling family line.
Reader is an heiress who rarely gets out because she's anxious and prone to panic attacks. Quite a sweet and pretty girl, but her parents are ashamed of her and hide her away.
Anyway there's a Halloween masquerade being held in town and both reader and Thomas attend (whether they sneak in or not is up to you) and they meet. They both feel more at home with each other than anyone else in the city, and start seeing each other secretly and fall in love.
Up to you if he asks permission to marry her or they elope and the parents pay to cover it up, but they get married and use her money to fund his inventions and fix up crimson peak. And have kid(s) to continue the family line.
A happy romantic story for two sweet and ignored people 🥰 (smut scene if you wanna, but it should be romantic)
-🐀
AN: Follow me for more Halloween Reader Inserts. More stories will follow this month.
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Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader – Halloween (Sweet AU) Fandom: Crimson Peak Pairing: Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader Rating: Teen Summary:  AU in which Sir Thomas Sharpe never had his sister corrupt him and meets Reader at a Halloween masquerade.
Warnings: None Really. Romance. Talk about marriage and kids. Drama. Tiny bit of Angst? Sorry it was written in a rush. Possible Cameo for Albert Shaw.
Charity
In the comfort of your tower chamber, you stood, gazing out of the circle-top window at the people who passed in the streets below. You didn’t feel the need to be among them, content to be up here by yourself in a room full of comfort and little knick-knacks. You had your peace and quiet and you were content with it.
The wealth you had been born in, and the hefty salary that your parents paid you each month, was enough to ensure you wouldn’t have to lift a finger for the entirety of your life. Rich, others would call you. But if they could see your bedroom they might doubt that you were.
You didn’t feel the need for all the lavishness that money could grant you. You hardly spent a dime other than the usual necessities. Material possessions had little interest for you. Instead, you found solace in spending your money on charity, giving away some of your income to charities on a steady base.
It was almost fitting, then, that your heart would be captured by a man who was once a charity case himself.
You met him during one of the few occasions where you were allowed to venture out of your tower where your parents usually kept you locked away… like a secret. They were ashamed because you were still a spinster in your twenties. And you could not blame them. People looked at you oddly and whispered behind your back in the streets. And so you didn’t want to go out and be among them any longer, hiding yourself much to your parents’ relief.
But there were such occasions where you would go out. Usually small balls or events with family and close friends. Sometimes, to bigger events where you knew that people would not be able to recognize you.
You feared their reactions if they saw you, feared what they would say or do.
The yearly Halloween Masquerade was an event you dreaded. The stuffy ballroom, the leering gazes, the suffocating press of bodies all around - it threatened to bring forth the panic attacks that plagued your life. Yet tonight, as you stood at the edge of the dance floor, your eyes took in the beautiful sight of the latest fashion dresses and suits. Beautiful women and men danced together, their masks hiding their faces, yet they grew intimate in their dance. You wondered how it felt, had done so for a while, but at the same time weren’t keen to experience it yourself.
You tried to hide away, to not be noticed, despite the dress you wore; the silken emerald fabric hugged your curves and cascaded down to the floor, shimmering with each movement. The intricate golden mask on your face only partially concealed your identity, but it was enough to give you a fleeting sense of anonymity. People still stopped to ask you for a dance. Men still stopped.
You disliked their leering gazes, the way their eyes seemed to undress you from behind the masks. And so you tried your best to avoid dancing with them. Their intentions were clear, and you were not interested in any of them. Your heart raced, anxiety clawing its way up your throat. If only this evening could come to an end.
And then, a familiar face appeared among the crowd. Your savior. Giselle, one of the few friends you had, came rushing towards you in a gown matching your own. Her wide smile a beacon of relief.
"Would you care to dance?" she asked, her eyes twinkling behind her mask. Finally, you were rescued.
Gratitude surged through you, and a genuine smile bloomed on your face. "I'd love to."
As you danced with Giselle, the familiar pressure in your chest began to dissipate. Her laughter, light and carefree, seemed to chase away the shadows that clung to your heart. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to enjoy the sensation of being alive. And you laughed; a pure, wholehearted smile.
Your joy was noted.
As you and Giselle danced, you felt the burning gaze of someone on your form. You carefully started to glance around.
“What are you doing?” Giselle asked, having noticed how your eyes traced the room.
“Someone’s watching me,” you mumbled, just loud enough for your voice to be carried over the tones of the music.
Giselle chuckled as she spun you around gracefully. “Of course, people are watching us,” she said, a sneer appeared on her face. “The Duke of Sparington has been trying to get my attention all evening. I’m so glad to get away. The guy’s in his forties and already has two kids and a tummy like a barrel. If I were to marry him he’d kill me in his sleep just by rolling over and ending on top of me.”
At this, you couldn’t help but laugh again, even though Giselle seemed to be grimacing at your reaction. It was obvious that she was repulsed by the man who had decided to chase her.
“Tell me, for the love of God,” you started, “That your parents won’t allow the match.”
But Giselle sighed deeply. “They’re much like yours,” she muttered, squeezing your hand a little too tightly as you continued the dance. “Eager to have me wed, even though they said to have given up on me already.”
Your eyes turned wide. “Well, you must convince them to hand you to another. If not younger, then at least thinner so you won’t be suffocated during your night’s rest.”
Giselle grinned at this, appreciating the joke. But you knew her situation was slightly different than yours. Albeit having been born in money pretty much like you had, Giselle’s dowry wasn’t nearly as large as yours. And her parents could not hide her away like yours had with you. The day for her to marry seemed to be closing in with each passing year.
You dreaded the thought.
If only we could marry for love, you thought solemnly. You held Giselle’s hand in your own as you spun around the room. And as the music swelled, your eyes drifted across the ballroom, settling on a figure who stood in stark contrast to the colorful array of masks and costumes. He was tall, slender yet muscular, clad in black as though he were an ethereal shadow amidst the sea of gaiety. His piercing blue eyes seemed to draw you in, ensnaring you with their intensity.
You couldn't look away. It was as if an invisible thread connected you both, pulling tighter with each passing second. Desire coursed through your veins, leaving you breathless. The world around you blurred, leaving only the two of you locked in this magnetic dance of longing.
This was the man who had been watching you. This was the gaze you had felt all along.
"Your turn," Giselle whispered, releasing your hand. It was then that the dark stranger approached, his movements fluid and graceful as he closed the distance between you.
"May I have this dance?" His voice was soft, yet carried an undertone of command.
"Of course," you breathed, entranced by the mysterious man before you. As he took your hand, electricity sparked between you, igniting a fire deep within your soul.
"Thomas Sharpe," he introduced himself as the two of you began to sway to the music. His low voice sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine.
Your bodies moved in perfect harmony as if you'd danced together countless times before. He was good, you noticed. Kept his rhythm well and moved fluently, despite his tall height and rather stiff appearance. This mysterious man took you by surprise completely.
You whispered your name and gazed up at the masked stranger. His blue eyes seemed warm as they lay upon you, peering through the holes of the black and blue mask. The silver lines only emphasized the blue of his eyes, making him seem more like a spirit than a man. Could he be real?
“I haven’t seen you here before,” you murmured, weakly, as you tried to focus on the steps you took with your feet. Focusing was hard, because Thomas’s scent and warmth distracted you, and brought your mind to places your mother would describe as the gutter.
How did this man manage to bring about such wicked thoughts, you wondered? Especially now that you could not even see his full face?
“Ah, yes. That is because I am not from around here,” Thomas replied, and that would explain it all. During your years living here, you’d become familiar with most faces of the high society. And many of them you wished you’d never seen. “I’m only visiting shortly in an attempt to raise sponsors willing to support my cause.”
“And what cause is that?” you asked, eyes meeting his as the two of you swayed gently from side to side.
Something in Thomas’s eyes lit up, like the subject you allowed him to talk about brought him real joy. Joy, and something else. Hope, you wondered?
"I'm working on a machine to mine red clay from the earth surrounding my family's estate," Thomas explained, his eyes burning with passion. "I believe it has the potential to bring great wealth, but I'm in desperate need of funding."
Red bells went off inside your mind. Another gold digger, you thought. You’d seen them before, met them before, although they never had such a great impact as Thomas had.
"Red clay?" You frowned, intrigued by the man and his ambitions. Was he not just another suitor seeking your fortune, but someone fueled by dreams and desires much like your own?
"Indeed, it's a valuable resource with numerous applications," he continued, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "But my family's fortune has dwindled, and our estate is crumbling,” here he paused, giving you time to think. “I'm determined to restore it to its former glory."
"Tell me more," you urged, your heart pounding as power and desire mingled within you. He was a man of ambition, and you felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame.
As the music played on and the dance floor spun around you, Thomas spoke of his dreams, his lips brushing against your ear with each whispered word. The world outside ceased to exist - it was just you and Thomas, bound together by shared passions and undeniable attraction.
"Thomas," you breathed, feeling as if you were on the brink of something dangerous, yet incredibly thrilling. Your fingers intertwined, creating a bond that seemed unbreakable.
"Time seems to stand still with you," he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.
And in that moment, you knew that your life would never be the same.
Perhaps the decision you took was rash. But you had thought about it, had done so for years before this moment had come. You had refused every man who had come to your door simply because you hadn’t felt that spark. You even had started to think you were incapable of feeling such feelings at all. But then Thomas came onto the scene, and he rose feelings inside of you that you had never felt before.
Love. Lust.
Both feelings combined made you feel powerful and strong. If you could feel this for a man, then surely, you would have to chase the chance to be with him. If he wouldn’t want to have you, then so be it, but you at least had to try. You had always been honest about your feelings and had always listened to your heart when you made decisions.
Your heart raced as you pulled Thomas closer, your fingers entwined like tendrils of ivy. The music swelled around you, a wild torrent that threatened to drown out everything else.
"Thomas," you whispered, voice trembling with emotion. "I... I like you."
The words hung in the air between you, a fragile confession that could shatter at any moment. He looked both elated and afraid, his blue eyes wide and vulnerable. What an odd reaction, you thought, alarmed by the fear you saw in his eyes. Did he not want you? You knew it was only one meeting that you had, a few dances that you shared, but there was that spark. That moment when the two of you had gazed into each other’s eyes and had forgotten the world.
Surely, that must have meant something to him, right?
"Truly?" His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. But then his grip on you faltered and you whimpered sadly when his arms fell away. A rejection, you thought upset.
"Sweet girl of mine,” Thomas whispered, the affection making you flinch because it felt so right – but you feared that in a moment he would be gone.
“I can’t give you what you need,” Thomas continued, voice laced with pain. As if admitting this hurt him more than you could possibly imagine. His hand reached for yours again, gently holding it.
“I haven't much to offer. My family's fortune is nearly gone, our estate in ruins...You’d be cold and far away from your family, living with a man who is hardly more than a bagger, trying to scrape back his family’s fortune and bringing back some lost glory to the Sharpe’s name."
"None of that matters to me," you assured him, feeling a strange mixture of fear and exhilaration. It was as if you were free-falling, the ground rushing towards you at breakneck speed. “I would like to explore the possibilities of there being an us. Of you being with me.”
But before he could respond, the music screeched to a halt, leaving you breathless and off-balance. Thomas' grip on your hand loosened, and he looked away, his eyes flicking towards the shadows that lingered at the edge of the ballroom.
"Please excuse me," he muttered, slipping away from you like water through your fingers. You watched him go, feeling bereft and adrift in the suddenly too-large room.
"Who was that?" Giselle asked, appearing at your side with a concerned frown. "You look... shaken."
"Thomas Sharpe," you murmured, still searching for him among the swirling throng of dancers. "He just... left."
"Perhaps it's for the best," she suggested, her gaze following yours. "Forget about him, darling. Dance the night away with me instead."
2.
The next day, you found yourself holed up in your tower chamber, the memory of your dance with Thomas haunting your every waking moment. You had inquired after him, researched him, desperate for any scrap of information that might help you understand the man who had so thoroughly captivated you. Luckily, your parents and their servants could provide you with all the information you might need.
"Sir Thomas Sharpe," you whispered to yourself, tracing the letters on the page with your fingertips. "Baronet and engineer."
You learned that his family line was dwindling. He was the last alive, with no heir to carry on the name. His house, once grand and imposing, now lay in ruins - a testament to the passage of time and the ravages of decay. But despite it all, Thomas still dreamed of resurrecting his family's fortune with his ambitious red clay mining project.
And you thought he might be onto something.
With renewed vigor, you set about drawing up plans for his machine, inspired by the conversation you'd shared while dancing. The hours slipped away as you sketched and calculated, determined to lend your own talents to his cause.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you spread the blueprints across the table, studying them with a critical eye. This was something real, something tangible that could bring you closer to the man who had stolen your heart in one dizzying waltz.
"Thomas Sharpe," you murmured again, feeling the name curl around your tongue like a secret. "I'll find you... I promise."
3.
A new day dawned, and you found yourself summoned to the drawing room. The request, although not unusual, surprised you, because your mother demanded you’d be presentable. Fear gripped your heart at that because it could only mean one thing.
A suitor.
And how you dreaded to come face to face with a man whose visage or demeanor repulsed you. Especially now that your mind was set on only one man in the entire universe.
The door creaked open to reveal Thomas standing there in front of your parents, hat in hand, his black coat clinging to his slender frame. His gaze met yours, a piercing blue that sent a shiver down your spine and weakened your knees. This was the first time you properly saw his face and oh-my! He was handsome. More so than you had envisaged him to be in your dreams. It felt as if your heart stopped beating entirely and as if the world froze in a blizzard of roses and butterflies. This man.
But wait, had he come looking for you?
"Miss," he began, his voice soft as silk, "I must confess that ever since our encounter at the masquerade, I have been unable to forget you." There was something gritty about his voice that betrayed the truth of his words. As if he had tried his best to put you out of his mind and had failed.
You liked that, though. You liked the thought of him being unable to forget you. It meant he was as much on your mind as you were on his. Your heart raced at his admission, but you fought to maintain your composure.
Your parents, who had been watching the exchange with keen interest, seemed to light up at the whole display. Your father spoke with enthusiasm, "Sir Thomas Sharpe here asked for your hand in marriage,” he said to you. “I think it would be a wonderful match.”
Your heart skipped a beat as your mother turned to Thomas with a smile. “Sir Thomas, we would be honored to welcome you into our family."
Thomas stood rigidly, and you could have missed the relief that flooded his eyes entirely had you not been looking at them. There was a sudden warmth to his gaze that told you that this was what he had come for.
But at the same time, you felt doubt cling to your heart. You wanted him, but… he stood so rigid, so unmoving. Like a true gentleman, you thought. But were your parents aware of his misfortune, you wondered? Or had he tricked them into making a match? The rich spinster whose parents feel embarrassed, eager to marry her off to a man with a pretty title who seems to have captured their daughter’s heart. The first to have achieved this.
"Mother," you whispered, pulling her aside, and out of the drawing room where you would have a bit of privacy and the men couldn’t hear. "I don't understand. He is poor, why are you encouraging this?"
"Darling," she replied in a hushed tone, her breath warm against your ear, "you have the funds, he has the need. It's your duty to marry and secure our family's future.”
“His house is in shambles, you told me yourself,” you whispered. “Aren’t you afraid he will usurp all of my resources? Have you considered he might only want to marry me because of my wealth?”
But your mother shook her head and smiled. “Listen, dear, Thomas seems to behave like a true gentleman. You could do worse. Besides,” here she paused and you waited full of anticipation to hear what argument she was going to use next, “even if he is poor, he needs an heir. And it is your duty as a woman to continue the line of our family. And quite frankly, I haven’t seen you as interested in a man in all of my life. Just take this opportunity and don’t ruin it. You’re going to be a good mom, give birth to a son to ensure a safe future for yourself and our family, and I will finally have the grandchildren I so desire."
Anger bubbled within you, hot and fierce. You wanted to marry for love, not obligation. And you decided to tell your mother as much.
“I won’t marry just to be a breeding mare,” you hissed. “If I marry it’ll be out of love. Not out of obligation.”
The creaking of the floorboards made you look up in shock to meet deep blue eyes of Thomas as he rounded the corner. How much had he heard? There was a sadness in his eyes that quickly melted into a fierce determination. Oh no, your heart raced as your mind clouded with disastrous scenarios. His face was pale - paler than before - and his eyes widened in shock.
"Thomas," you tried to reach out to him, but he stepped back, the hurt in his eyes unmistakable.
"Forgive me, Miss. Coming here was a mistake. I must take my leave," he said, his voice barely a whisper. And without another word, he left the room, leaving you standing there, heart pounding and mind racing.
“Sir Thomas!” Your mother called out, running after him as fast as her skirts would allow. You knew you’d be in trouble now.
Don’t ruin it, your mother had said, only milliseconds before you’d done just that.  
You watched Thomas go, a flurry of black coat and wounded pride. The memory of his touch, his scent, and his voice haunted you, taunting you with the promise of what could have been. But as the door closed behind him, a cold, hard truth settled in your bones. You had lost him, and it was unlikely you would ever find him again.
4.
Days had passed since your last encounter with Thomas, and the ache in your chest grew stronger. The walls of your chamber felt suffocating, so you defied your parents' wishes and ventured outside into the bustling streets. Your reappearance caused whispers to spread like wildfire; some marveled at your beauty and kindness despite your reclusive nature, while others gossiped about your unmarried status.
Returning home, cheeks flushed from the cool air, your heart sank as you found a man you had known all of your life as Uncle Al - one of your neighbors – speaking to your father in hushed tones. It was apparent he was asking for your hand in marriage.
"Please, sir," the man said, desperation lacing his voice, "I can provide for her."
"Give me away?" You scoffed, anger boiling inside you. "To him?"
The man had known you from when you were a little child and was older than you by far.  You had been shocked by the amount of men at your parents’ door recently, but to see him. The neighbor who had always been so kind to you… It was unsettling.
“You can’t be serious,” you said, uncaring if it hurt the man’s feelings. “He’s nearly as old as you!”
Your father's eyes narrowed, clearly displeased by your outburst. “Nearly as old, perhaps,” he said, voice low like a warning. “But he is a good friend of our family and he deserves a bit of happiness.”
Your neighbor stood up a little straighter, a lustful gleam in his eye as his gaze fell upon you. You felt a shiver run down your spine. No, you thought. No way you’d give him the heirs your mother so wanted. Your heart already belonged to another and you had made up your mind a little while ago.
“And a bit more respect as well, don’t you agree?” The hiss made it clear that your father was not to be argued with, and so you directed your gaze down at the ground and muttered a brief apology.
Al seemed to accept it, for a smile took possession of his lips and he turned back to your father again. “Such an endearing creature,” you heard him say, voice like silk. “Whyever have you kept her away from us for so long?”
Because of this, you thought, sadly. Your parents might have feared this. And with a start, you realized how you had set your own demise into motion. That they hadn’t as much locked you away out of shame as well as to protect you from all the unwanted gazes and proposals of men twice your age or more. They knew you hadn’t wanted to marry and had given you the space. But now, society demands them to hand you over to someone. And who better than a family friend they had known all of their lives?
“It is settled then,” you heard Al say and lifted your gaze to see him shake your father’s hand. Your father forced a smile, though you recognized by now that it did not reach his eyes.
A measurement out of necessity. A must. You thought with a shock. Unable to look at the two men any longer, you turned on your heels and ran away. Your bedroom felt safe, for now, high up in your tower, as you threw yourself upon the bed and clutched your pillows tight.
“Not him,” you breathed through tears. “Not Al.” No matter how kind your neighbor had been when you were smaller, he was old and started to grey. He wasn’t nearly as tall as Thomas and didn’t have the same voice or scent.
And there he was again. Thomas never seemed to leave your mind.
After you calmed down enough, you pushed yourself off the bed. Your chest heaved with fury as you went to stare out the window, your breath fogging the cold glass.
You weren’t looking at anything in particular when your gaze fell upon the familiar figure of Thomas across the street. You’d been occupied with your own thoughts, and it took you a few seconds before you realized that your gazes had crossed. All this time you had been searching for him. You knew he was still in the area, knew he had made visits to unsuccessfully gain sponsors to fund his work. But you’d never been able to catch sight of him. And here he was, underneath your window, staring at you from across the street with silent admiration.
How long had he been there?
Your heart leaped. Not wasting another second, you rushed down the stairs and outside, the door slamming behind you.
"Thomas!" You called, seeing how he had turned and was walking away from you. Despite the street being busy this time of the day, you followed his tall shape, running past people and making your way zigzagging through the crowd. The top hat he wore indicated where he went. “Thomas, wait!”
But he kept walking. And just when you started to get out of breath, you saw him come to a standstill. Relieved, you caught your breath and ran towards him. It was as if he waited for you, standing tall and proud, his back still turned towards you. Then he slowly turned around to face you, a sad expression marred his features. His blue eyes were full of turmoil.
"Dear girl,” he murmured, his blue eyes shimmering with unspoken emotions. "I know you must think me a monster, standing underneath your window like I have…”
You shook your head fiercely. “No, not at all,” you breathed.
“I must confess, I have been watching you more frequently these days. I tried to forget, but… I felt drawn to your window more and more, just to catch a glimpse of you,” Thomas admitted, silently. He hung his head in shame. But his blue eyes were kept firmly upon you. “My heart still beats for you."
His admission sent shivers down your spine, your desire for him growing stronger like a moth drawn to a flame.
Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. Surprise was visible on his face, but only for a moment. Then, he carefully wrapped his arms around you, holding you in an embrace.
“When I said I would not marry out of obligation, I also said I wanted to marry out of love,” you whispered, aware that Thomas could hear. “It is you I have always been waiting for. I want no other.”
Thomas pulled away from the embrace and looked deep into your eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation or doubt. He found none.
He slowly leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, his hands gently caressing your face. The kiss was soft and tender but quickly intensified. As you pulled away, the hunger in your eyes was evident. Without saying a word, you grabbed Thomas's hand, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you.
You led Thomas back to your home. “You must talk to my father again,” you said, still holding his hand in your own. You could feel his eyes upon you, burning with desire. “He just gave me away to another.”
“Another?” Thomas sounded as if he hardly could believe his ears, and you felt how his grip on your hand inadvertently intensified. Once he noticed his bodily reaction, he looked ashamed at your joined hands and relieved some of the pressure, holding your hand gently again.
“I said I wouldn’t, but,” you hesitated, chewing your lip pensively as the both of you stood in front of your parents’ home, glancing up at the tower that you slept in. “Since I have been going out, people have started to notice me.”
You turned to Thomas, eyes locking, and found a look of wonder in his. “A spinster,” you clarified, gently squeezing his hand. “Society has been building up pressure until my father had to relent. I need to be married for the honor of the family name.”
“Then lead me inside,” Thomas said, voice hoarse, almost as if there was a hidden second layer to his words. Inside, it purred inside your mind. Yes, that was where you wanted him. In you, around you, part of you. And so, you led him inside, determined to make your parents see reason. As you entered the parlor, their disapproving eyes bore into you.
"Father, Mother, look who I have brought home," you said, their heads turning to look at the two of you in wonder. There you stood, hand in hand with the man of your dreams. Thomas’s eyes were glinting, a tremble to his smile. Hope, that was the right word. He radiated hope.
"Thomas?" Your father sounded surprised. "The struggling inventor?"
“Sir Thomas Sharpe,” Thomas said firmly, taking you and your parents by surprise. “I might lack the funds for the comfort your daughter deserves, but I have an abundance of love for her. I asked you before and I beg you to consider me again. Annul the agreement with the other suitor to her hand. Your daughter and I are in love. And I will pledge to keep her safe and care for your daughter and our children, if we are blessed to have any, until the end of my days.”
The speech was long, heart-warming, and rendered you speechless. As you watched Thomas he seemed to transform into something else, something ethereal. A glowing creature, full of power and passion. It only confirmed the choice you had made.
Your parents stood there, silently, But you could tell by their faces that they were deep in thought.
"His heart is true, and he loves me," you insisted, gripping Thomas's hand even tighter. "Do you not wish for my happiness?"
A tense silence filled the room until your mother finally spoke, her voice barely audible. "Very well, we shall accept his proposal."
Relief washed over Thomas's face, his eyes brimming with gratitude and love. The weight of your decision hung in the air, heavy but necessary. And that night you had your first meal together. The next morning was spent walking and chatting, getting to know each other a little better.
And as the days passed by, you had no regrets.
Months later, with your dowry spent on tools and materials, you watched as Thomas began to build his machines according to a combination of your designs and his own. His hands, once soft and delicate, grew calloused as he toiled away in his workshop. You watched from the shadows, pride swelling in your chest as his dreams slowly came to life.
Life in your new home wasn't easy; the roof leaked, the walls were damp, and the cold seeped through every crack. But together, you made it work. When you discovered you were pregnant, the hardships only intensified. You were sick quite often and with no servants to tend to your needs, you had to do everything around the house yourself. You fell ill during pregnancy, running a fever that made Thomas fear for both your life as well as that of your unborn child. But you survived and got better. And despite the challenges, love kept you warm. Your shared passion was like an inferno against the bitterness of the world.
By the time your child arrived, a fragile, wailing bundle, Thomas's business had begun to flourish. You supported him unwaveringly, standing by his side as he navigated the treacherous waters of entrepreneurship.
"Thank you, my love," he murmured one night as you lay entwined beneath threadbare blankets, your child nestled between you. "Without you, none of this would be possible."
"Thank you," you whispered back, tears glistening in the moonlight. "For giving me a life worth living."
Slowly but surely, Thomas's business continued to grow, allowing you to repair your home and provide for your growing family. Life was still tough, but it was a life filled with love, laughter, and the knowledge that you had chosen the right path.
And so, with your children surrounding you, you lived out your days as a happy family, bound together by the unyielding force of love, triumphing against all odds.
~ Fin ~
AN: Liked my work? :) ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ Love you all
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smolvenger · 3 months
Text
The Child Called Sharpe (Thomas Sharpe x fem! Reader Blurb)
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Summary: You and Thomas Sharpe welcome your first baby and his second, as Thomas himself faces his own demons regarding his past.
Word Count: 1K (er...blurb or short oneshot, whatever)
Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy and childbirth, but nothing graphic. In this version, though I try to have a more nuanced take on Lucille, In this fic I choose to portray the Lucille/Thomas relationship as nonconsensual, pedophilic, and abusive so if you don't like that don't read this, so mentions of sexual abuse, death, illness, blood with some of the canon events of Crimson Peak. But it becomes a lot of tooth-rotting fluff.
A/N: I can't please everyone with Crimson Peak on the is Lucille good or bad vrs. is Thomas good or bad discourse, so why bother trying anymore. I just wanna write my stuff. From @holdmytesseract's request!
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr
Love for him meant creation. It brought out Thomas’s gift of invention tenfold- for love itself was creation. For the first time in his life, an act of love brought out the child’s creation. So it was natural for Thomas to spend hours inventing more for this little child on their way.
That is, his second child. For he had a child, once, and lost that child, once. 
Yes, it was a child conceived from control rather than consent…but it was still a child in need of care. A hungry baby- a human life crying for milk, and burning with fever. A child “born wrong.” A child Enola swore to fight to keep alive. 
And a child that despite everything died anyway. As did Enola. 
Despite Lucille’s cruelty, he did pity her grief for that child- For it was his grief as well.
Lucille caught ill and died not long after. He at least made sure she died comfortably. Warm beneath blankets on a soft bed. Assured her she was loved and kissed her cheek as she took her last breath.
It was complicated, his feelings about his late sister. He never could decide one thing about her. For everything was true- there was both in her. Lucille, both cruel and misunderstood, powerful and pitiful, villain and victim.
Though he never once forced himself on anyone or took advantage of a child as she did to him…
And yet…
He was still guilty of scheming, of blood, of darkness as she was. Of the invention that he wanted to be funded, that he bought at the price of three women’s lives… 
But… assaulting him when he was little? Using his innocence until when he was grown he knew no other but her? You would tell him that even if the murders were understandable, she did cross a line in that regard.
He still didn’t know if the woman who at once was his partner, his equal, his sister as well as his jailer, his predator, his molester was deserving of it. 
Or not. 
Or both.
Yet, all of that darkness and blood was now in the past. Here you were his current wife. A wife who would never take advantage of him. A wife who listened and respected when he said “no.” A wife who wouldn’t push him. Wouldn’t manipulate him. Wouldn’t control him. A wife who forgave him and saw he was now trying to do right with his life, and his choices and would be there to support him.
 Your pregnancy was poignant.  A reminder that he had a new life now- and a life that was about to expand as your stomach did each month.  A new life was about to come forth literally and figuratively for him. 
In the corner of his workshop in a special box were toys he made once. Toys were made for the first child who died. 
He never prayed, but he did now to whoever listened. For once, those toys would know being loved, being played, and for a baby’s laughter and delight and adoration. They wouldn’t rust from age, but with use. To be worn not with dust, but with love.
He brought out the box one morning and set it in the nursery of his new house. A simpler house compared to Allerdale Hall’s Majesty. Smaller and brighter, made of cherrywood and over earth rather than clay. But cheerful, the warmth bursting in every room.
The toys were cleaned and set ready in that nursery corner. You squeezed his hand after he did so.
When making sure you were comfortable, or when you slept or napped, away he would be in his workshop. He had a special toy shop now next to the house. So in his downtime, he would be found creating little toys that a child of any sex would love. A little teddy bear that twirled on top of a drum. A little cat that lifted to lick its little paw next to a puppy that wagged its tail. 
But…what else would a baby need!? His mind was reeling. It had been too long…
Of course! A place to sleep! You had insisted the old wooden rocker would work…but he still had that itching, the gears in his mind whirring faster than any clay mine.
He took a few weeks to study the designs and then set right to work. He stayed up late, rolling up his sleeves. Working on one where if you pressed a small pedal, it would rock gently, oh so gently, as to not stir a baby to more wailing, but only to sleep.
So when he discovered that Lady Sharpe’s water broke, he insisted on staying by you.
“Thomas! But…husbands don’t..don’t usually stay!” you cried. You clutched his hand as he led you to the bed.
Lucille would urge him to leave when it was time to put a cleaver into one of the wives.
For once, he would look at the blood and the bodily innards spilling from his wife and not turn away.
He shook his head, though his hand was still in yours.
“No- My dear, all of my life, I closed my eyes and ran away. I didn’t look when things happened. Not this time- after I get the midwife, I am staying with you. I will not run away for once. I’m going to stay with my wife and keep my eyes open, no matter what I see. I love you- and for once, I am not leaving.” I will not leave you alone to deal with it now.
You grabbed him and kissed his cheek. Then he ran and fetched the midwife. He held to his word and stayed.
Labor is always long. Labor is always primal. But he waited there. Squeezing your hand, cooling your head for every painful cry and push. 
Then, after the long hours, though he was a man used to blood he turned pale… Then at last there was a cry.
The midwives smiled, bringing out a little baby in their blaket. Declaring, “It’s a girl!”
You let out a smile and then a laugh of relief. Thomas kissed your hand, then looked at her. His blue eyes brimmed with tears, but for once in his life they were happy ones.
The little girl was brought out in her blanket, needing her mother’s touch- being so new to this cold world and wanting the soft embrace of knowing she was loved now that she was here.
“Look at her…look at her- our baby! Our daughter! Oh!” you cried, a mess of crying, swear, and relief—the pain of the last several hours was forgotten for the tiny baby.
“I never could imagine it,” he agreed, he pecked her tiny forehead.
Once she had settled down, you handed her over to Thomas. The warm, living bundle in his arms. Yes, her cry was loud and bright…but it only signaled that she was alive.. He had never known such joy without confinement, without limits.
The midwives and nurses were paid and thanked. They left, but though it was a long day his Daedelian mind was eager to share his gift.
As you sat in the bed after a while, Thomas got up.
“I have a gift now. For her,” he announced.
Setting you in the wheelchair for rest, he led you to the nursery. The little girl in your arms. Inside the little pastel room there was something in the middle that was tall beneath a blanket.
Thomas walked forward and slipped the blanket off. You let out a gasp.
Beneath was the cradle Thomas made. It was stunningly beautiful- a little pedal that when he stepped on it, would make it rock. Over the bed was a music box on the side that trinkled a lullabye. Stars and a crescent moon dangled were placed to spin over the babies head where she would be placed.
You gasped, seeing how ornate it was. Every bit made with love. As you got up and placed her inside, she opened her little eyes and cooed. You made a little gasp as she took in the sight- her parents and her special gift. Music, rocking, and the stars and moon to dance above her.
To think, after all he had seen, experienced, and done…that he would come to know this moment. Here it was…and he didn’t feel worthy of it.
What when she was older? His own father was a monster. And for a while, fatherhood was linked to such things…
“I only hope I shall be a good father for that little girl…” Thomas wondered..
“You already are,” you assured him. You wrapped an arm around him and kissed him on the cheek.
That night, you were set to sleep after the exhaustion of delivery and elation of the baby. Thomas offered to be there in the nursery. For she was crying through that night, as any baby. Not that she was hungry, as he found out, she just needed warmth.
He got her out of the lovely cradle and went to the rocking chair. He wanted to hold her, feel her close. Her warmth and beating heart and life. 
His most precious creation of all…and the one that would survive. He knew she would.
“I promise you, my little love…” Thomas told the baby. “You will not know of attics. Of cold and punishments. Of plotting and murders. Of blood and cruelty…”
He kissed the top of her head.
“No- you will be Protected. Wanted…and loved.”
He would do everything so that his daughter would never have to suffer as he did.
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muddyorbsblr · 5 months
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the final Lady Sharpe part 4: something to look forward to
Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!
Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo
Summary: You and Edith make significant progress on your mission to put Lucille behind bars; Thomas makes a confession before you go to sleep
Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: ghosts; a lil bit of steam [let me know if I missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: Reader & Thomas are married; more pining; simp Thomas
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The ink had dried enough on the final document you were working on duplicating for tonight that you could group them together and place the original papers back in Lucille's hiding place. Tomorrow morning if ever she were to check on them, she would be none the wiser of what had been transpiring over the last two weeks. You repeatedly clenched and unclenched your fingers, trying to get some feeling back into them after writing with barely a pause for break over the last few hours.
"Tomorrow we'll be done with all the documents," you whispered into the silence, feeling Edith's presence nearby as you made your way to Thomas' workshop. "I'll need you to show me where the phonograph cylinders are hidden, and if you know which one has Lucille's demented confession…"
"I'll show you the way," she confirmed. "And I'll make sure that none of the more…how do I put this…bloodthirsty spirits don't touch you. They tend to be a bit overly protective of their turf."
"The what?" You froze in place at her mention of bloodthirsty spirits. You had enough of a fright when you'd first "met" her and Enola, you might not survive encountering their less agreeable companions. The feel of someone nudging you from behind had you moving down the corridor again.
"Don't you worry about them, Y/N. I'll do my part to keep them away, explain to them that you're our friend, and you'll put an end to Lucille's lifelong murder spree. It might take time for them to fully understand, but they will."
Once you crossed the threshold to Thomas' workshop, you heard the exaggerated groan that belonged to your fleeting husband. Checking the candle in your hand, there was only about a thumb's worth left.
"Right on schedule," Edith remarked before you felt a nudging sensation on your shoulder. "You know he must really care for you if he's willing to endure being with her for the sake of your safety. Before she made him go back out into the city to find a new wife--well, a new victim, he looked gaunt. Almost like he found his life grotesque. Then he came back here with you and…there was color in his face again. Like he's allowed himself to live while he wooed and married you. There's a happiness in him when he's with you that I only ever saw glimpses of back when I was--"
Her words fell dead, but you had a feeling you knew what the sentiment was. Back when I was alive. Back when I was his wife.
"Why Miss Edith Cushing, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were playing matchmaker with your ex-husband and his current charlatan of a wife," you mumbled, trying not to look to deeply into her words, her testimony of Thomas' time before you. You were already having enough trouble keeping your affections for him at bay whenever he engaged in your routine of a kiss to cap off the night, marking yet another rung on the progression ladder. Lucille's incarceration becoming ever closer.
You decided to hide the duplicated papers in between the pages of his sketchbook, thinking the chances were slim that Lucille would look into them since he only kept concept art of the toys he wished to work on within it. Flipping through the pages to evenly distribute the additional papers, you found a set of sketches that had absolutely nothing to do with toy designs.
The last few pages that he'd worked on in the journal were filled with sketches of you. Some depicted you asleep, others as if the image he had in mind was of you next to him at the dining table. And a full page that showed the bedroom you shared with the baronet, you perched on the edge, a light wash of orange painted on the page, like the scene was illuminated by firelight.
That was the day you arrived at Allerdale Hall. The fleeting moments of desirous bliss you had before reality came crashing down on you.
"You say this marriage is all an act for you both now, but it doesn't look that way. Not from where I'm standing…well, floating." Both of you shared a chuckle before she posed a question at you. "Y/N something I noticed at night when he makes his way back to you…there's an excitement in him, as if he can't move fast enough."
"I--I didn't know about that part," you answered her in hushed tones as you made your way to your shared bedroom, maneuvering the barely moonlit halls with what little candlelight remained. "I usually try not to look at him before we sleep. I fail, of course, but I make the effort. Granting his request for a kiss after he washes the night off of him was already a miscalculation on my part--"
"Completely understandable miscalculation," she quipped, managing to quietly open the bedroom door wide open. "Far too handsome for me to even think of knowing any better back then."
"My thoughts exactly," you mumbled, stepping into the bedroom and disposing of the used candlewax before stretching and allowing yourself to relax from the night's clandestine activities. "Goodnight, Edith."
"I'll talk to the spirits inhabiting the corridor where the cylinders are hidden," she offered, a faint whispering joining her once again before you heard her echoing chuckle. "It seems your husband's rushing to make his way to you. You still have quite the night ahead. Goodnight, my friend."
You could feel the fatigue setting in as you let the tub fill for Thomas' bath before putting away your tools and your blades, mentally preparing yourself for another night of insufficient sleep. Just as you had for the better part of the last two weeks.
Right as you made your way back to your side of the bed and shook your hair loose from your bun, Thomas walked through the open door. You gave him a small smile. "I should be done with the documents tomorrow, Edith and I will work on transcribing the recording cylinders that can lead the case more to Lucille than you two days from now at the latest."
"That's wonderful news, darling," he beamed at you, running his gaze over you briefly before walking toward the bathroom. "I shall see you in a few moments," he told you, his voice echoing across the tiles. A few seconds later the sound of the water sloshing and a sinfully satisfied groan filled the room as he sat into the tub. "You truly are a godsend, my wife. Thank you."
You did your best to ignore the fluttering in your stomach hearing him call you that. You wouldn't hear it for much longer with the progress you were making. "You're welcome," you answered back, fighting back your own sounds of relief once your back hit the bed and you allowed yourself to finally relax for the night.
The cumulative efforts of the last dozen or so days seem to have finally taken its toll on you, your eyes fluttering shut as soon as your head hit the pillow. You hadn't been able to hear the sound of Thomas padding his feet on the floor and back to you, or his little gasp as he saw you in your slumbering state.
"No…" he sighed, climbing into bed with you. "Y/N, darling, please tell me you haven't completely fallen asleep yet," he said softly, brushing your hair away from your face.
"Hmm?" You leaned in to his touch, feeling a strange sense of comfort when your cheek rubbed against his slightly calloused hand. "'M awake…" you mumbled, slowly opening your eyes. He gave you a tender smile when your eyes met his, and you couldn't help but return it.
It was only in these moments just before you both went to sleep, your parts in this perilous operation done for the night, that you could allow yourself to almost feel as if you were a normal married couple. Just laying in bed together before going to sleep, sharing a quick goodnight kiss before he pulled you into his arms, cradling you against his chest.
Perhaps even indulge yourself, even for a moment, in the dangerous truth that once this was all over, you would miss these fleeting moments of peace with him. You'd miss how he held you through the night and how you'd wake up wrapped in his arms. How in the last few days he would greet you in the morning with a soft kiss to your nose before you both made your way out of bed and stepped out of your room.
You would miss him when all this was over. When you'd both signed the divorce papers and went on your separate ways, and you were back in your apartment in the city, going to bed alone, you would miss him.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, a small sound coming from the back of his throat as he sighed into the kiss, almost as if he was relieved. "This is the only thing getting me through the nights," he said solemnly, settling more comfortably into the bed as he kept kissing you. "Knowing that this was what awaited me when I get back."
Instead of your usual night routine of a few kisses and he would pull you into his arms, both of you falling asleep to the sound of the other's breath evening out, he moved his body closer, kissing his way to your neck, his hand traveling down the side of your body until it settled at your waist. His lips began to trace along the neckline of your nightgown, the contented hums against your skin combined with the feel of his lips on you had you struggling for breath. "Thomas--"
"It should be you," he whimpered, his exhales warming your skin. "I should be spending my night with you. Laying with you." He kept on kissing along your neckline, his other hand pulling along the string that exposed your décolletage and he immediately pressed his lips to your chest, above your heart. "You're my wife, I should be with you."
He kissed his way back to your lips, your shock from his confession letting his tongue slip past your lips and tangle with your own. It was like flames licked all along your body at the contact, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as your fingers weaved into his onyx curls.
"Thomas, wait--" you tried to say, placing your hands on his chest in a paltry attempt to get him to pause for a moment, failing to fight against your eyes fluttering closed and your entire body melting under him the moment his tongue delicately ran along the roof of your mouth.
"I want to lay with you," he said once he pulled away, looking at you with those wide pleading eyes that likened him to a pup asking for a treat. "May I?"
For the love of all things good in this world say yes, you hissed at yourself. You struggled to breathe properly, fighting against every instinct to give in as he repeatedly whispered "please" into your skin. Trying to not let the curiosity and desire consume you and see how far your husband was willing to go.
This was the fantasy you wanted to lose yourself in, where by some miracle when all this was over and you both made it out alive, that you'd found something with each other that neither of you wanted to lose. That after all this perhaps you could have a life together, preferably far away from Allerdale Hall and the figurative and literal ghosts that roam the corridors.
The fantasy that perhaps when you were both safe from Lucille and she was serving her time behind bars, locked away where she couldn't harm anyone anymore, that Thomas might not want to sign the divorce papers. Because maybe he was falling in love, too.
"We've come so far already, we can't afford to lose focus now," you answered him, your voice coming out so small it was like the words all but refused to get through the lump in your throat. "Once all this is done, and we're free of her, you'll be free to do whatever you please…with whomever you please."
The last part left a bitter taste in your mouth, like it physically pained you to say the words.
"You're right," he sighed, leaning away enough so that he could look at you. The expression on his face was akin to that of a wounded pup, making the guilt and regret from your decision overwhelm your system. "Of course." He moved over to his side of the bed, taking a breath before hesitantly touching his fingers to yours. "May I still hold you?"
You didn't think twice, moving over to him and settling into his arms. "Yes, of course." The words refused to be spoken, but you'd found a strange comfort in his embrace. That despite the very real danger you both found yourselves in, and the looming dire consequences of Lucille and the business end of her cleaver if you made so much as one misstep on this perilous endeavor of yours, you felt almost a safety in his warm embrace.
And while no one would ever be able to get you to admit it, it made getting up out of bed in the mornings near impossible. You didn't want to leave him. You wanted him all to yourself.
All the more reason why you needed to be done with this and go your separate ways. You should never be so selfish as to beg him to stay with you and deny him yet another freedom. So much had already been stolen from him.
He brushed a lock of your hair away from your face before asking softly, "How long do you reckon before Scotland Yard comes here after you send the papers?"
"Not long," you answered him, your words full of confidence in your peers. "I'll include a summary of my findings to help them through the papers I've sent them, process them faster. I'll also try and emphasize the urgency of our situation, that we're currently living in a manor with a woman that has the intention and means, not to mention the stomach, to kill me. That we have very good reason to believe our lives are in imminent danger. Should get them moving pretty quick."
"And what are we to do until they arrive?" You could feel him tensing as he anticipated your response.
Bile flooded your stomach from what you had to tell him. "We keep routine." His beautiful face looked so pained as you said the words. "She has to believe that there's nothing wrong, that everything's going to plan. If she gets even the slightest whiff that we're up to something and she kills me. Maybe even you if she finds out that you helped."
He took a shuddering breath, pulling you closer against him so he could press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's hope they move quickly then," he mumbled against you, pressing more kisses on the same spot as he took calming breaths. "I can barely stomach any more of it." His breath hitched at his words, his tone rife with shame.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, placing your hand on his chest, feeling his pulse sprinting like a madman. "This burden shouldn't be on you. Never should have been. She's stolen so much from you…" Your sentiment caught in the back of your throat as you did your damnedest to fight back tears. "I'll do my best to make sure she doesn't steal any more of your life away."
"What if she figures out what we've been up to? Or if she gets impatient and realizes there's no money coming after all this time?"
It took you a moment before you could answer, the implication hanging over you both now like the Sword of Damocles. "Then Scotland Yard will arrive here to a corpse. Either mine or hers."
Tears welled in his eyes as he pulled you closer, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I won't let her hurt you, I swear it." He stole a few more kisses from you before he cradled your head against his chest. "You should sleep, I can feel how tired you are."
"Exhausted," you confessed, settling into his embrace, the comfort from his hold blanketing over you as your cheek rubbed against the soft hairs on his chest. "Goodnight, husband."
You couldn't resist calling him that. In a few short weeks you'd never be able to again.
He pressed his lips to the top of your head, stroking your hair before he whispered, "Goodnight, my darling wife."
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As the minutes passed, and the only sounds that filled the bedroom were your breathing and the crackling of the fireplace, Thomas found himself unable to succumb to sleep just yet. He was still riddled with so many questions that he couldn't bring himself to ask you quite yet.
What if by some freak accident of a chance, Lucille comes across one of your colleagues when she runs her errands in the city and they were to mention who you were, and what you did before you married him? What if now that she was armed with this new information, she deemed you too much of a threat and decided to do away with you like she'd done with so many other innocent women?
What if she decided to make it even worse, and ordered him to kill you instead? Spout some nonsensical notion that he needed to get his hands dirty this time around so she could see if he still had the stomach for it?
He knew he wouldn't be able to hurt you, that he would be completely unwilling to. But would he be able to protect you against Lucille?
And the question that had him looking upon the coming weeks with a mix of dread and hope, all depending on how you would react if he were to even muster up the courage to say the words: What if you stayed together after this fleeting partnership of yours? What if you were open to exploring what a life together would truly be like? Move away from Allerdale Hall and find a place in the city?
"What if I begged you not to leave me?" he whispered into the empty silence, stroking the backs of his fingers along your cheek. "What if I've fallen in love with my wife, and I want to turn our marriage into something real?"
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A/N: *popping out my head from my writing hidey hole* Well hi there! Been a long while since I updated this story, but I can promise you now…I didn't abandon it 🫡 And we're picking up with our precious meow meow baronet big tiddy goth husband really showing his hand here that he's catching feelings 🥹
everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog
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starks-hero · 9 months
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Forever fighting the urge to write a corpse bride au with him <3
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Give me a listen you corpses of cheer, at least those of you who still got an ear. I'll tell you a story that'll make a skeleton gloom, of our own jubiliciously lovely corpse groom.
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ladycamillewrites · 1 year
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𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑'𝖘 𝕭𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖙
∙ Thomas Sharpe x f!reader
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𝖆/𝖓: written for @springdandelixn ‘s spring sleepover project. Happy Birthday darling 🖤
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𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: 18+ dark fic!! non/dub-con smut, Crimson Peak ghosts, forced marriage, manipulation, y/n held hostage
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“Lucille?” 
“Over here my dear. Look at the foxes hiding in the northern flower meadows” her voice lured you towards the great dining hall. Allerdale Hall was huge, almost as big as your fathers country estate but with way more pretty wildlife around. 
To hell with your father’s sick hunting-addiction. Your studies were more important and surely the more peaceful.
Rushing over to join your friend at the window, your eyes instantly widened in joy at the sight of a vixen with two cubs. They seemed overly entertained by the growing flowers while the mother had her hands full with watching her boisterous offspring.
“They are incredibly adorable, are they not?“ You chirped, barely able to suppress your excitement about the spring season here in Scotland.
Thanks to Lucille and her brother Thomas you were invited to spend as much time as you wanted in the mansion of your friend you once got to know at your families annual garden festivities. Someone brought Lucille along and well, the spark of sympathy was instantly lit. 
You’ve known her for quite a while. Two wonderful years regarding the regular letters and many visits. 
If there only wasn’t Thomas Sharpe; the unfairly fine baronet who always watched you from the shadows with his oceanic orbs shining like the full moon. The hunger in his eyes elicited a cocktail of fear, submission and unexplainable arousal. 
Most improper things. 
However, it was wedding season and your father might wanted to introduce you to some gentlemen when you’d be back. Hoping you would finally agree to marriage. It was a gift and a curse at the same time to be allowed to pick your husband yourself. 
Though, you were curious whether Thomas had found a fiancé.
“Tomorrow we will spot the grey seals at the bay, I’m most certain of it” Lucille smiled patting your shoulder before she weaves past your body.
The smell of Bergamot invaded your nostrils as you looked after your friend, unsure about the reason of her back-off. 
It was Thomas donning an emerald vest with a puffy white shirt underneath, the gold fob watch on proud display. It shone equally as mysterious as those almond eyes.
“How is the wedding season going for you so far, darling?“ He purred, chin hoisted when you opened your silent mouth, unsure about what to reply.
“I- I, erm my father, luckily, allows me to decide when I wish to get married“ you began, watching in awe as his eyes narrowed, knuckles crackling as he pressed them together in a silent predatory display.
Lucille stepped back in your sight, smiling richly to coax whatever your final answer was. The siblings looked not too alike, you noticed as your eyes tried to hold on to something other than Thomas’ expectant demeanor.
“-and also whom. But I rather wait until next year since I am deeply invested in my studies of northern wildlife“ you finished with a meek smile, hoping that your explanation would suffice. Lucille herself wasn’t married although she was older than you and already exceeded the marriageable age. 
Fresh confusion was written all across your face as Thomas nodded at his sister, took a small black box from her and approached you with black leather boots hitting the dull parquet. Nervous, you tugged a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze shifting to squint at the flowering poppies bathing in the dazzling sun.
However, you flinched when the baronet suddenly cleared his throat, attractive bone structure directed at you when he opened the box, drawing your attention. “Would you do me the honor then, y/n?“ His baritone resounded against the old walls of his mansion, leaving your heart miss a beat in utter shock. 
Not knowing where to put your hands, you clasped them together, trembling fists resting in front of your heavy chest. “Thomas, I- I don’t know what to say that comes all so…abruptly“ your stammer sounded rueful, yet reasonably composed and bewaring the appropriate courtesy.
Again, anxious eyes flickered over to Lucille, her face suddenly all darkened with a thousand words of diktat sitting on her tongue. Where was your friend gone? The woman who told you about the different groups of deer visiting her gardens?
“Your father would surely be content with closer business relations, wouldn’t he?“ Thomas said sternly, leaving you no metaphorical room to breathe with the only relevant leverage held against you. You would most certainly do anything for the man you loved most. And Thomas knew.
Forcing an awkward smile, your trembling hand reached out to carefully close the box with the ring that would grant his owner the title of Lady Sharpe. “Please, do not take this as an insult because it most certainly is not“ Tomas' piercing gaze darted up to meet yours “But I would prefer to wait until the next season as I don’t yet feel ready for such a momentous step“. 
Silence. 
Scoffing, Thomas turned away from you, the cool scent of him blew in your direction from the brusque move.
Serious unease started to settle in your veins, poisoning your brain with the carnal urge for freedom. To breathe fresh air. Alone. At least for a moment.
“Excuse me…“ you whispered, sweaty fingertips raising the skirt of your dress to make your way down the stairs.
“Don’t you think my machines would be of great use in your father’s gold mines overseas?“ The deep pitch got you to stop and pause. Your own agitated breathing the only thing audible in the huge dining room as you failed to spot Lucille.
There was only Thomas, his ocean blue orbs glinting across his shoulder as he desultorily looked back at you. “Thomas, I beg you. This was by no means a rejection. I’m just asking you for some time to finish my studies“. Your voice was reduced until every word sounded like a plea.
The self-confident woman had already left Allerdale Hall, it seemed. 
“I suggest you re-think your choice, darling“ he purred with a freeze like a winter storm, cold thrills descending your vertebrae. You didn’t dare to move nevertheless, muscles tense and ready to run. “Either that or you won’t ever leave this house“.
And you ran, muttering an unnecessary “Apologies“ as hasty legs carried you towards the staircase. That was when you started to notice a darkness, watching the curtains being pulled closed as if by witchcraft. 
Panic spread in your system, hands clasped onto the handle as you hurled yourself down the stairs. “Don’t leave“ a jarring voice breathed, causing you to stop mid-stairs, your head turning in slow motion. You did not want to know who else was living in this house right now however, the voice pierced straight into your consciousness. 
Gasping like a child fearing death you stared into the crimson face of what seemed like a ghost, slender limbs blocking the nearby window. With a cry you turned around, pacing downwards to the main door only to cry out harder when a second one of those horrific creatures blocked.
“Staaayyyyy“ they breathed in a terrific choir, filling your face with naked horror.
“I- I’m going to d-die. I’m going to be killed by ghosts“ you muttered, a stressed out brain trying everything to come up with a way out.
Turning on the spot like a cursed ballerina in a music box, you eventually spotted a single door that wasn’t yet blocked by those red, howling creatures. An exit you prayed when shaking hands twisted the doorknob. 
Slamming the heavy wooden door shut behind you, your head dropped against it with an echoing thud. Candle light flickered behind you, a large, elaborately designed closet was the only thing you were able to locate when hurling in. 
You were alone. In safety.
“I wasn’t jesting earlier, my dear“ an amused chuckle found your ears, the unique baritone making it past the rushing sound of hot blood in your head.
Thomas.
Panting heavily, you turned around, body too wasted to step back out and face those living nightmares again.
The tall, lean figure of the baronet stepped out of the shadows, a smug smirk resting on his thin lips. He looked handsome in candle light, you mused, burned out and incapable of summoning more fear. 
“What- What are they?“ You asked instead, slowly stepping backwards, deeper into the room that turned out to be a regal bedroom. Those suffering moans resounding against the wood were too much while their ugly image ghosted around in your head.
Clicking his tongue, Thomas started to circle you like a starved shark, stern eyes traveling your spent body. “Ghosts. And they shall only be obedient to the Sharpes“. 
“Let me go, please. I swear I won’t tell a word about this curse“ you pleaded, feeling dizzy from following the spheroid course of Thomas steps. 
“It is only to be felt as a curse as long as you are not my wife. Therefore I shall ask again before my courtesy is the next thing to turn crimson“ he spat, every syllable weirdly monotonous, unfitting the usual behavior of the fine baronet. He felt like a changed man, even looked different with onyx curls splattered across his forehead instead of being neatly combed back. 
You swallowed hard, gathering the boldness to state your point of view one last time, hoping he would somehow understand. Whyever he should now.
“Thomas, I cannot deny that you’re a handsome man of honor and overly gentlemanly but I beg you to rather propose next year“.
Watching his eyes fall shut and theatrically reopen as if drenched in pitch, you felt your hands and feet turn cold, any signs of a happy ending rusting and crumbling.
Frozen, you endured his approach, potent hands gripping your shoulders. At first gentle but then he turned you around swiftly, forcing your terrified eyes to stare at the door. Resistance was in vain.
“Oh darling, I’m afraid my friends would miss you so terribly that they cannot wait for a promised return that’s worth nothing more than hollow words“ he whispered in your ear, leaning so close that his chin brushed your temple. 
A wicked grin spread on Thomas’ face as he felt you writing underneath his grip, whining like a child as crimson arms reached through the tiny gap at each side of the door. “Thomas, please stop“. “Think of only how content your father would be to have the source of revolutionary machines in his family, huh?“.
And you yielded, screwing your eyes shut as you screamed what he wanted to hear so desperately. “ Alright, I will marry you“.
Instantly, the grip around your shoulder blades softened, transformed in a weirdly pleasant caress. “Good girl“ Thomas cooed from behind, blithely watching the goosebumps paint your pale neck. “Now give me your hand“.
Reluctantly you turned, reaching out to the emerald fabric of his open hanging vest only for him to slap away your hand. A venomous gaze stiffened your back, twitching brows wordlessly forcing you to correct your mistake.
Now offering your left hand, the adequate one, he grabbed it, making it look ridiculously small as he slipped a heavy ruby ring on your finger. 
You paused to stare at it, sick of the realization you had lost a year of juvenile freedom to a sinister, fine baronet. Under duress, not voluntarily.
“May I leave now? I need to apprise my father of this... well, situation“ you spoke again, the bitterness of a intertwined ‘are you happy now?’ swinging within your tone. But Thomas only chuckled, freeing himself of the vest to toss it on the fur carpet. 
“Do you truly think of me as this imbecile, my darling fiancé?“ the last word hit you with the force of a southern coal train. 
Shaking your head in a broken submission, your promptly tried to adjust your words, letting you sound more trustworthy. But the chance was long gone, rotten like the ghosts lurking behind the door. It glued your mouth shut instead. 
Slowly he stepped closer, reaching behind your back as you felt long digits loosen your beige corset. “You think of this marriage as nothing but a business deal“ he began, hot air from his voodooed lungs meeting your sweaty cleavage. Biting your lips you stayed silent, more or less eager for his continuation.
“Well, in fact it is so much more. You are the most gorgeous woman I ever laid eyes on, y/n. You will bear me beautiful heirs to my title“. Your heart contracted violently, fighting against the choice your helpless mind had made. The irrevocable choice forcing you to actually step in the role of a faithful wife. 
“I- what? What are you doing?“ You stammered, trying to hold on to the heavy fabric of your dress as it started to slide down your shoulders, threatening to leave you in only undergarments. 
Growling like a wolf, the baronet gritted his teeth when annoyed hands pulled it out of your grasp. “Please“ you whined, covering yourself with two quivering arms while you knew damn well that your fate was sealed. “You shan’t never hide what’s to be mine. Understood?“ He barked however, silent and graceful while hasty hands unbuckled his black breeches. 
Slowly, swallowing your pride, you let your arms hang down, eyes fixated on the flickering candle behind your fiancé. You would tell him to order more of them, you thought, they smelled nice. 
“Now, this cock won’t suck itself“.
Disbelieving, widened eyes darted back at him, insecurity smeared all across your face like neon lotion. 
Thomas’ brow was raised, his potent jaw bobbed forward in bloody impatience. “Once I had you, no other man will ever touch you. I’m just making sure my fiancé won’t renegade on her promise“ he stated as sober as well water, the poison within a stark black swirl. 
Succumbing to your fate, you dropped to your knees, staring at his manhood that twitched in lusty anticipation. “I- I’ve never…“ you mumbled, awkwardly curling your fingers around the hot shaft. He was huge, bigger than your housemaid had told you men were. 
You didn’t know whether his sympathy for you was feigned or not as Thomas told you how to wrap your lips around the tip and use your tongue to bring him satisfaction until he would thrust into your mouth.
And how you should let him.
Then you began to pleasure him, swallowing hot saliva around his wide girth until you heard him moan and grunt above you, blueish veins straining his neck when his head lolled back. It was a sinful sound, radiating pure masculinity and drenching your panties, if you wanted it to or not. 
Thomas was incredibly handsome, you couldn’t deny his charms. So you gave in trying to focus on breathing as he started to fuck your mouth. Knuckles turned white from the strong grip around the edge of the bed when wolfish growls and curses left his parted lips. 
You felt torn as he suddenly pulled out, hand still buried in your hair to yank you back on your feet. “No“ you babbled, feeling the burn of your scalp wandering down to infect your gut. You were not ready for what was to come. 
“What was that, pet?“ 
“I- I don’t want to“ your whisper felt pathetic. “You do not wish to be a good, obedient wife?“ Thomas hissed through gritted teeth, the blue in his eyes drowning you like a relentless ocean, features sharpened by the candle light. 
Dragging his face in a faux pout the sinister baronet mocked you “I assumed you wanted to see the grey seals tomorrow, darling. We could go together…“ he purred, gradually lowering you onto the duvet of his big bed. “Would my pretty fiancé like that?“.
You stared in his eyes, biting the inside of your cheek until a taste of copper was the product of your fear. “I’d love that, Thomas“ you forced yourself to say, nails digging in the red fabric gathered by your sides. 
A content smile curled his lips before a strong knee pressed between your legs, unfazed by any resistance. “If you are good for me…we’ll go“ he snarled, sliding back down to hook a finger in the waistband of your panties, the undergarment ripping in no time under his swift pull. 
Gasping, your upper body shot up, protesting against the man who stared at your naked cunt as if it was a box of gems he craved to possess and lock behind metal doors. “Thomas, please don’t“ a whine that erupted directly form your heart left him entertained, ignorant fingertips spreading your lips. 
“As I said, darling. Without some kind of assurance, words are rendered nothing but mere sounds“. 
“But why does it have to be like that?“
A big hand came closer as he crawled back up, pressing against your breasts to keep you glued to the mattress. New terror was born in your eyes, fading into absent-mindedness as you felt him drag his cock along your fold, chuckling to himself. 
He would take me either way you thought, trying to accept the burden that was the title of Lady Sharpe. You would have happily married him.
Next year though.
“Fuck, look at you. All wet like a whore yet so innocent“ you frowned at his words, eyes screwed shut to await the inevitable intrusion. “Please be gentle“ you heard yourself mutter, shocked by the taste of complete submission on your tongue. 
“Ah, ah! Eyes on me. I want to watch you as I make you my wife“ Thomas demanded, dropping on his elbow, needy cock lined up with your pussy. The tingle of his loose curls against your collarbone was a poor distraction to the fiery burn as he breached you, growling at the dark of his chamber. 
It felt unlike anything you had ever imagined, the thick ridges of his big cock stretching you beyond your limits.
Whining underneath him, palms pressed against the puffy shirt, lips begged him to pause until he did. “G-Gods… you feel p-perfect. So tight“ his husky moans were needles pricking your cheek as you felt him twitch inside you, the moment of pause weirdly fading the pain into pleasure. 
Until he pulled out, hips slapping against your ass when he began to pound into you, mercy far beneath his carnal needs. “Thomas, I- I can’t“ you whimpered silently, staggered breaths interrupting your senseless plea.
But he didn’t say a word, instead biting his rosy lip from the sheer pleasure your hesitant body bestowed on him. He looked feral, the collected, analyzing baronet who used to make nice business with your dad now hidden behind a black out curtain.
Darkness engulfed you when the candle finally died, leaving Thomas the only thing to hold onto in the cursed mansion that was now yours.
And so you did, clawing your nails in your fiancé’s muscular back, praying for the candle to be magically lit up again. To have mercy on your heart while Thomas’ relentless cock blanketed your body in unfamiliar ecstasy until he came, spilling his hot seed deep inside your core what forced you to followed him, chanting his name in your own crimson peak. 
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tags (feel free to ignore if it's not your genre) : @coldnique @gigglingtigger @muddyorbs @gigglingtigger @smolvenger @toozmanykids @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl
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hockeyandhrsepwr · 6 months
Text
CHAMPIONNE!!
je t'aime series
clearing out some drafts that have sat here dor way too long 🫣
yourusername
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yourusername Un-Fucking-Real
I can't put much into words right now, but Tifosi youre the best fans in the world, I have the best team behind me and I love all of you!!
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Thombordeleau_ she's the fucking champion!!
CharlesLeclerc if anyones going to beat me im glad its you
MickSchumacher So proud of you!!
JackHughes everybody’s a Ferrari fan! But not everyone’s married to a Ferrari world champion. Felicitations mon amour ❤️❤️
SebastianVettel you’re one of the best young talents the sports ever seen and you’ll go far. Congratulations on the first of many y/n!
ScuderiaFerarri that’s our world champion!! ❤️❤️
JackHughes
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JackHughes Mon amour, my incredible wife, my y/n, watching you work towards your dream for the last 4 years has been nothing short of a privilege, I only wish I was there to watch it and celebrate in person. I love you so much and I’m so proud of you
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Yourusername I love you so much Jack😭😭 watching you achieve your dream has been equally as incredible
Lhughes_06 whoo Y/n!! Favourite sister right there
_quinnhughes *only sister. Congrats y/n/n!!
Njdevils go Y/N go!
Fan27 what a couple
Fan78 seriously. Like Stanley cup & WDC within the same year? Power couple right there
Thombordeleau_
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Thombordeleau_ your world champion everyone.
McQueen. My best friend. The nickname started as a joke but now you really are the fastest in the world. Congrats, now get your ass to Cali do we can celebrate properly
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Yourusername is this payback? What could I possibly have done to deserve this 🫣
Yourusername but thanks Thommy!! I’ll see you soon!
Thombordeleau_ you know what you did
BrendanBrisson can’t believe she’s the same girl who cried on my couch because she stepped on an ant. Badass. Congrats y/n
Jacobtrusscott tweedledee & tweedledum over here
Yourusername you know you love our antics
ThomBordeleau_ hell he’s involved half the time
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Last Updated: 2024-03-05
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Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Sir Thomas Sharpe stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.
Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning
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✑ Wedded│Prt. II│Prt. III by yespolkadotkitty • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •
Summary: You and Thomas spend your wedding night exploring each other in every way possible.
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✑ Child Named Sharpe, the by smolvenger • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
Summary: "You and Thomas Sharpe welcome your first baby and his second, as Thomas himself faces his own demons regarding his past."
✑ Corsets and Courtship by babybluebex • 18+ • 〔E᜶A〕 •
Summary: "Your father's business partner comes to your home in hopes of discussing the future, and you both get more than you bargained for."
✑ Fill You by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary:  "Now that you and Thomas have married, he is determined to have you with child come hell or high water."
✑ It's Something Special by lady-rose-moon • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "Even though you had been married to the Baronet for three months now, you hadn't been touched by him. Until today..."
✑ My Sweet Baronet by lady-rose-moon • 18+ • 〔E᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "Being married to Sir Thomas Sharpe had some... inconvenient setbacks but you are sure to worth through them with your husband."
✑ Ocean Eyes by andsheloved • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "When your own mind seems shattered, you're reminded of who will always be there to pick up the pieces."
✑ Please Forgive Me by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "After nearly being killed by Lucille and discovering Thomas'... role in the whole affair, the two of you [move] to Paris [for] a fresh start... unsure if you [can] forgive [him]..., you agree to attend the Paris Exposition with Thomas [to begin] moving forward."
✑ Secret Affair by sserpente • 〔E᜶F〕 •
Summary: "Imagine [Sir Thomas Sharpe falling in love with you, a maid]. He invites you to live at Allerdale Hall, to serve him and his sister Lucille... All you have to do is keep the affair a secret from her."
✑ To Escape by lady-rose-moon • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "After [discovering] the dark truth about Allerdale Hall, you confront Thomas. [Over] time, you [and your husband plan your escape]."
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✑ A Definite Answer by laufeyamp • 〔F〕 •
✑ A Favour by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔F〕 •
✑ Are You Sure? by tomhiddleston-is-mischief • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✑ Buried by colorsunimaginable • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Desperate by lady-rose-moon • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Family by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✑ His Happiness by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Indulge Me by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 •
✑ Kiss Me by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Memories by tomhiddleston-is-mischief • 〔F᜶A〕 •
✑ No. by ladyfluff • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✑ Not Stopoing by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Reading While He Works by foxgloveprincess • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Reading with Sir Sharpe by wanna-rock-n-roll-in80s • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Trapped by ladyfluff • 〔A〕 •
✑ Straight Through the Heart by the--blackdahlia • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Sweet Tooth by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 •
✑ Within the Strongbox of My Heart by frostbitten-written • 〔A〕 • ♡ •
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See Also: Navigation || Thomas Sharpe Master Index
Authors: @andsheloved || @babybluebex || @colorsunimaginable || @foxgloveprincess || @frostbitten-written || @just-the-hiddles || @lady-rose-moon || @ladyfluff || @laufeyamp || @smolvenger || @sserpente || @the--blackdahlia || @tomhiddleston-is-mischief || @wanna-rock-n-roll-in80s || @yespolkadotkitty ||
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People who I think would be great caregivers but I don't think anybody would read about pt 2
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Rosa diaz - Brooklyn nine-nine
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Thomas sharpe - crimson peak
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Kate bishop - marvel cinematic universe
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Jim halpert - the office US
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Alex dunphy - modern family
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Nathan drake - uncharted
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Ransom drysdale - knives out
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Marta cabrera - knives out
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Peggy carter - marvel cinematic universe
───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────
If you would read for any of these characters please let me know <3
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aishophrenic · 5 months
Text
summoned the god of mischief.
Warning: consensual non consent (CNC), dubious consent (dub con), overstimulation, oral sex (both f and m), fingering, p in v, manipulation, mind control
Plot: You have tried to summon the god of mischief a number of times but thought that it was of no use until one day he comes and finally pays you a visit.
It was the worst of times. It was the best of times. Light was shining on you, stars were aligned for you. Nothing felt better than what you were experiencing right now in your life. And then the question arose, how was everything going so perfectly? Or, did it seem so? Little did you know that all the good times were about to turn into a living hell.
Once again, you woke up in your comfy bed and looked at the table clock. You were really proud of yourself as you woke up just on time. Damn, this really had to be great. This was definitely a great start for your day but it would be beneficial for you to not assume that your day would be put to a great end.
After freshening up and having your breakfast, you got ready in your office attire and sat in your car to drive to your workplace. While driving, you saw that your daily route was closed because of some construction work, leading you to take a quieter, and less dense road.
You were not the one who's good at directions so it didn't bring you much shock when you found out that you had been lost and accidentally found your way into a forest. You had never seen it before, nevertheless it looked enchanting.
Without even realising, you drove inside the forest. The interior was even prettier than the outside. Suddenly, the sky turned grey and you realised that it was about to rain. A rainy car ride in an unknown forest wasn't the best idea so you decided to depart, but as soon as you tried to move the steering, a strong wind blew in your direction making you squirm in your seat.
Goosebumps rose all over your body, something felt wrong. Shrugging it away, you took a deep breath and sighed. "Alright, let's get out of here." You said to yourself in an attempt to calm yourself down.
Before you could drive, you saw a big tree about to fall on your car and then boom! This was the end. This is how it was all supposed to end, right?
Slowly, you opened your eyes, the blackness fading out. You saw yourself inside a room, a bedroom to be precise. You were sitting on the bed. Your hands tried to reach for your face but they failed to do so. You realised that your hands were tied to the bedpost. One on each side.
Your blood ran cold on learning that you had been held captive by someone. Thoughts started gushing over your mind about how you would escape from here or would you even be able to ever escape from here?
Putting a halt to your thoughts, you saw the door open as a tall, bulked up man with shoulder length hair walked in and smiled at you.
You clenched your fist in fear and terror as you tried to scrutinise his plans but it seemed like it was the other way round, as your fright was obvious to him.
"Hello, pet." He said with a sly smirk. "Who are you?!" You said in a rather high pitch. "Who am I? Good question." He replied. You looked at him waiting for him to continue. "I am Loki of Asgard and I am the god of mischief."
You gasped, it had to be false. How could this happen? You had always been a Norse mythology enthusiast and were always eager to read about loki. Attracted to his mischievous and ravageous demeanour, you had tried summoning him sometimes. He never responded to your summons but looks like he knew.
His features were actually fitting all the characteristics that were given about him in the books but how could you trust? What if it was just a cosplayer who was taking advantage?
"How can I trust you?" You asked. "Oh darling, I'm not here to prove myself to you but I know exactly how many times you have tried to reach out to me and summon me."
Shit. It was really him. You could feel the energy around you and the way he talked. You had actually manifested him to come to you but heck now what were you supposed to do?
"Don't know what to do next? Do you? I can read your thoughts well, pet." Fuck. This was getting messier. You always enjoyed it when he did all those sinful things to other people, but you doubted if you would be really amused if he did those things to you.
"I know you're terrified, anticipating what I'll do to you. Perhaps I have been waiting for just a moment like this so that I can do…terrible, awful things to you."
You took a deep breath as your mouth ran dry and heart palpitated. You stick your tongue out to wet your lips so that you could enunciate the words forming inside your mouth.
"Please forgive me God loki, I am just a foolish mortal who was driven by your attraction and ended up fucking myself up."
"Ooh, you excite me, pet. I like the way you address me. Also, you're not foolish for being driven by my attraction, there is no one who won't be allured by a god."
Things were heating up and the tension between you two was increasing. His eyes were addictive, they held you captive. You felt enchanted. Your chest heaved up and down and constantly fidgeted inside his seductive aura. You could feel something wet between your thighs and before you could figure out what you actually were supposed to do, the smell of your arousal hit both yours and his nostrils. He smirked on smelling it and scoffed. You felt a tinge of redness on your cheeks as you turned your gaze away in embarrassment.
"Oh dear, already so wet for me. You like the thought of being terrified. The thought of being dominated and asserted by a god amuses you. You must have been truly desperate to summon me."
"Forgive me but I don't like all of this. I think you've misinterpreted my thoughts. Please let me go. I respect you a lot and I swear on you that I'll never summon you again." You said out of terror, practically being restless.
"But why not?! Why won't you summon me again? I know you would if I leave you right here, you're destined to come to me. You're just a mere mortal to me but you had the audacity to doubt my interpretations." His tone was getting a bit angrier and you thought that he was about to snap his fingers and kill you but instead, he came closer to you and whispered in your left ear, "I know it darling. I know that you want me."
With that being said, he connected his lips to yours and your reaction was instantaneous to kiss him back passionately. You could not hold the heat back in anymore and you needed more. He broke the kiss while you caught your breath, "Now tell me dear, aren't you desperate to feel my touch? Do you still want me to go?"
He definitely had your mind and was using his magic on you as your body stopped responding against his touch or maybe it really was you.
He slid his hand smoothly over your body making sure to touch every part of you and halted as he reached your heat. "Say it and I'll make you feel like no mortal could ever make you feel."
You knew that you needed him and you were ready to submit yourself to him. To your god. "Yes, God loki, please mark me as yours and make me feel good. You're the only one who can make me feel good. I'm all yours to tame."
You were shocked as the words slipped out of your mouth, you definitely didn't see it coming. Your ideology was literally screaming to you and telling you to deny his touch but your mind was too cloudy to listen clearly.
"I know my sweet little girl, that I'm the only one who can make you feel good. I am your god."
In a snap of his fingers, all your clothes disappeared into green sparks and your restraints vanished. Your hands were freed but he manipulated your mind into giving in to him so you had no strength to move your limbs according to your wish.
His hand cupped your left bosom which fitted perfectly in his hand. He circled the tip of your nipples with his thumb while fondling your right bosom. You let out an audible breath which could be counted in as a moan. Your chest heaved erotically while he smirked looking at you.
"It's a pleasure to look at such a beauty like you. I can't wait to do all those sinful things to you." You let out a muffled moan as you tried to speak out but it felt like your mouth had been sewed with invisible threads. He would let you speak what he wants to hear, not what you want to say.
His hands were big and veiny and they weren't really helping you to not be aroused even more. You had to agree on the fact that he was the most ethereal being you had ever seen in your whole life.
His hands finally reached you down there where you wanted them to be. He slid his finger up and down your pussy and collected all the slick on his finger. He slipped his wet finger inside your tight hole. You clenched immediately as you felt his finger inside you.
You choked on a moan when he inserted his whole finger in you. "Oh darling, already clenching on my finger, I wonder how you'll take my actual length." He said with fake sympathy.
Your cheeks were flushed at the thought of him being inside you. Deep down somewhere, you wanted him and you knew that too.
He slowly started fingering you, making your pussy wetter. He slid in another finger and picked up his pace a bit. Wet slurpy noises could be heard inside the room and they just turned you on even more. You finally lost it when he curled his fingers inside you, hitting that spot and making you moan out loud. Your thighs tightened and you dropped your head back on the bed.
"Aww sweetheart, looks like you're loving this." You were loving this and hating this at the same time. His praises just brought you closer to the edge. There was something unusually arousing about him praising you. You felt weak in your knees whenever he called you by certain names like his pet or his little girl.
Once he realised that he had found that one spot, he curled his finger more frequently while his thumb circled your clit. You were in pure bliss as he fulfilled your insatiable desires. He fastened his fingers and started rubbing your clit faster making you close your eyes.
You were so close. So damn close from breaking into his embrace. You were prepared for him to pull out because that was what he was supposed to do right? Bring you to the edge and then leave right there, afterall he is the god of mischief but seems like he outwitted you as he continued with his ministrations, seemingly bringing you towards the edge.
"It's alright, you can cum darling. All I wanna do is make you feel pleasure." His assuring words were all you needed for a release as you came hard. But it didn't come to an end. The stimulation didn't stop. He didn't stop. Now that was even worse than edging and he probably knew that. He rubbed your clit even faster than before as he put a third finger inside you. You screamed as you felt overstimulated. You couldn't take it anymore.
"Stop! Please I beg you, it's too much! Oh God." You said, your eyes rolling in the back of your head while your hands reached down to hold his hands in an attempt to make him stop. You squirmed and shaked continuously under his grasp but he didn't stop.
"You're such a good girl, taking it all for me. Darling, I wanna see you cum on my fingers one more time and I know that you would oblige." You knew that there was no other way than obeying him and you had to push yourself over your limit.
You took the pleasurable torment until it broke you down for the second time and had you cumming undone on his divine fingers. Your thighs were shaking as you hadn't experienced such intense orgasm in a long time.
He finally gave you a moment to breathe just to take it back from you. "You're so damn adorable, my precious pet." He praised, making you feel happy even after all the abuse he put you through.
In a snap of his fingers, you were once again back to your senses and sanity. You were no longer feeling numb. You snatched the opportunity and screamed,"Please let me go! You are forcing me into this!" She pleaded against the god. Loki chuckled with a sinister smile on his face and said, "Whom are you trying to fool, pet? Me or yourself? I know exactly what you feel. You like being forced and manhandled by a man. You crave my touch. You are nothing but my whore so don't act like I'm forcing you when you are the one who summoned me and touched yourself to my name."
Your eyes widened as the realisation hit you that he knew it all. You gulped down the saliva building in your mouth as you struggled to respond. "Don't know what to say now, pet? Now that I have said it all, are you still going to pretend that you dislike this?"
You tried to turn your gaze away from him until he taunted again,"Awe, my poor little girl." he said with a tsk. "Don't worry, I know you're desperate. I know you need affection. I will show you.". You didn't know anymore if you wanted this or not. Some part of you said to stay right there and devour the moment while the other part of your mind told you to leave that place as soon as possible. You knew that you won't be able to flee in such a vulnerable state so there was no other option left than to take whatever he was giving you.
"Oh, so you have surrendered yourself. Your thoughts excite me." You were terrified by his powers but they also exhilarated you at the same time.
"Undress me, darling." He told you in his deep voice that sent tingles down your spine. You barely breathed out a no. "I said undress me, darling. It wasn't a request, it was an order." You wanted to play along this time. "And what if I don't? What will you do?" You asked, hoping that it wouldn't go wrong.
Suddenly, a dagger appeared in his hand as he held it against your neck, pressing it just the right amount so it wouldn't actually cut. "I fear that your disobedience might be the reason for your death."
"No, please don't! I am sorry. I will obey you. I'll do anything that you'll tell me but please don't take my life. I beg you." He smirked at your miserable state as you were on the verge of crying. "Alright, so you will do anything that I tell you to, right darling? I hope you are a woman of your word."
"Undress me. Darling." He said in a stern tone this time. You nodded as your shaking hands slowly took off his armour and his asgardian suit. His toned and lean figure was definitely a sight to behold. On noticing your hesitation to take off his pants, he cooed,"It's alright darling. Take them off."
You tucked on his pants and slid them down. His manhood stuck out erect, the tip being a light shade of red while oozing precum. You would be lying if you said that your mouth didn't water at the delicious sight. You wanted to take his length in your mouth and it seemed like he heard you.
"Come here my sweet girl. Satisfy your god with your mouth. I know this mouth can do wonders. I want to go deep down your throat till you're gagging and choking." His words were dripping with honey and they terrified and aroused you at the same time.
Not wanting any more chaos, you submitted to Loki as you crawled forward and bent down to take his length inside your warm mouth. It wasn't even half of his whole length and you were already choking.
In an attempt to go deeper, you accidentally choked yourself again and jerked your head backward to detach your mouth from his cock and breathe. Before you could, his hand grabbed your head and pulled it even closer to him, making you gag. You tapped on his thigh in an erratic manner but he didn't care. "Ssh ssh it's fine. Don't panic darling. Just try to breathe from your nose and take it. Your mouth feels so good."
Tears flowed from your eyes as he bobbed your head up and down his cock. Your nose touched his pelvis, resulting in a moan out of him. Gradually, his movements became faster as you started to get used to it. He thrusted his hips upwards and deep throated you.
You lolled your tongue on his veiny length. You could feel his length growing inside you. "Ah, yes, you're wonderful my dear, I'm so close." After jabbing his length inside you for a while, he pulled out of your mouth. You gasped all the air that your lungs could take and felt that you were finally back to life.
"Stick out your tongue." He breathed out. You obeyed him and did as he said. He jerked his cock from his hand a few times before he released the strands of cum on your tongue. "Swallow it." After you did, he said, "Good girl."
It was enough to make you weak in the knees.
You lied down on your back and sighed. You closed your eyes for a minute until you felt someone towering you. You opened your eyes to see Loki on top of you resting his forearm on the bed so that he doesn't suffocate you with his body weight.
You could feel his tip touching your pussy. "I hope that you want it as much as I do." He said with a devilish smile which was enough to scare you. "No, please don't, I d-don't want this!" You cried. "Well, all I can do is hope that you do." he replied.
He rubbed his length on your pussy lips, making you moan. Your wetness was visible to him. "Seems like your body doesn't sync up with your thoughts, for I can clearly see your arousal." He said, smirking. You were too embarrassed to speak anything.
He pushed his whole length inside you without letting you process the moment. You let out a scream as his big length teared up your insides. You had never seen someone even near his size.
He slowly started thrusting inside you. "Y-you're so big. It hurts." You said while your eyes brimmed with tears. "Shh it's alright. You're a good girl. I know you can take it. It will feel nice soon." He coaxed. It felt genuine. The way he praised you. You started to like it.
Your hands gripped his shoulders as he penetrated. Gradually, the pain started to turn into pleasure, making you roll your eyes back. Skin slapping and wet squelching noises could be heard. You don't know when you lost control and started moaning his name. You could feel yourself near your climax.
"Yes darling, keep clenching at me like that. You're my special girl." He said while speeding up. He was about to cum, and so were you. He could feel you on the edge. He put his thumb on your clit and played with it, making you throw your head back.
"I-I'm so damn close. Please don't stop." You said while trying to breathe properly. "I know my dear that you are so close. I want you to cum with me. I want to feel your warmth." Loki said.
His thrusts became erratic as they sufficed your darkest desires. "Let loose, my pet."
You both came together. He kept on thrusting inside you until all of his cum was deep in your womb and dripping out of you. He pulled out and laid beside you.
"I would love to see you again, pet."
You woke up in your car, looking the same as you were before you fainted. You put your hand on your face while your eyes widened. You realised that he visited you. The god of mischief had paid you a visit himself.
It would be a lie if you said that you didn't wish for him to visit you again.
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variant-lokitty · 1 year
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happiest birthday to my ultimate london boy! ❤️
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smolvenger · 28 days
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A Court of Mischief and Purpose, Chapter 20 (Loki x fem! Reader Crossover Series, A Court of Thorns and Roses AU)
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Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book: A Court of Mist and Fury. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him.
Chapter Summary: A sudden confrontation from the enemy...
Chapter Word Count: 4K
Series Masterlist
Warnings: A sex scene that isn't smut. It isn't too explicitly described and is not meant to be super titillating and is brief.
It just occurred to me that said scene, while not explicit, could have what is considered dubious consent. Even if it is in her imagination, even though Reader verbally says "yes" in the fantasy, it is bc she is doing her duty as a wife, I can see how this is considered dub-con and could make some people too uncomfortable to enjoy the chapter. So, for your safety- It scene starts at "Now, hurry and get it over with, Will," and ends at "Then, when he was done-"
Mentions of cheating (I portray the Will/Cora affair in The Essex Serpent unsympathetically so if you have an issue with that, you have been warned). Supporting Women's Wrongs. Violence and blood implied sexual harassment, and fear of sexual assault (but it DOESN'T go there), scary stuff and angsty stuff, but a happy ending. Grammar mistakes and lack of editing or extra super revision bc I just wanted to Get This Shit Done (tm).
Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract@eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@fandxmslxt69@skittslackoffilter@mischief2sarawr @asgards-princess-of-mischief
A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad
When you found the letters on your first wedding day, you had a life already set before you. A life that would take an obtuse turn. Where all would happen…but you would not be happy. You had often wondered if the marriage to the revered went through.
You imagined the scene. One image haunted your mind once you saw the inside of your fiancee's house. Of when he was no longer your fiancee, but swore an oath before his God to be your husband. It was after the ceremony, the celebration where you could only stare blankly at the table, barely eating. And he would hold your hand as the sky got dark and lead you to the white house, ducked his head under the doorframe to go upstairs and commence the wedding night.
You lying on that blue bed. You said “yes”, because you were a dutiful wife. A motionless doll for him to play with, for there was nothing inside you to fight now. Stiff as a board on the bed. You would lift the skirt of your shift on the blue bed. Legs open and eyes open, face away and placid, consenting because it was your duty as a wife now. That was what good women did. Now, hurry and get it over with, Will.
The Lusty Vicar…well, living up to his nickname above you to put it delicately. Hearing him grunt in your ear, and feeling him over you, inside you.
Knowing who he was thinking of. Knowing who he was imagining beneath him, in him. Knowing who it was who made him lose his bearing.
And it wasn’t you.
Your face was turned away despite the position of the act, your eyes not wanting to even look at him. Feeling his sweat and how his curls brushed against you. Hoping he wouldn’t notice. Wouldn’t ask questions. Focusing yourself on the far left corner of the ceiling and not him or what he felt like. Creating a mental distance between the two of you in the ultimate act of physical closeness. You would not fool yourself and let yourself feel the pleasure of the marriage bed now that you knew the truth. You wouldn’t think of how much you wanted him, much less how much you loved him. Thinking of what you’d make for breakfast, what the next sermon should be on, or the dishes that needed to be washed tomorrow. Not on Will as he was on you, in you.
Then, when he was done- after he read his Bible on his lap, quietly reading aloud the verses, making a note to skip the fifth chapter of Matthew, verses twenty-seven through thirty.
You would make yourself small. In a feral position with the covers of the marital bed over you. You were a woman now in the town- wedded and bedded. But you wanted to be a child. You wanted to run back home to your father and mother in tears, knowing that a good cry and a little chocolate and tea would make everything better. But no. You weren’t a child anymore. You were a woman wedded and bedded. You were a wife. A priest's wife. A priest's unwanted wife.
You wouldn’t be able to quiet your mind to dream. It would be repeating that question, endlessly, on your lips, knowing it would ruin everything the minute you said it- “Why am I not good enough for you?”
But you wouldn’t speak. A wife never considers herself, she only considers what makes her husband happy. You’d stare at the wall. Waiting for him to fall asleep, tears quietly streaming down your face. You would have melted over the erotic sight of his strong upper body normally- but it wasn’t yours. He wasn’t for you. Not really.
Then, when you were certain he was asleep, you would quietly get up and leave the room.
You ended up wandering to his study. You turned on his lamp by the window. Perhaps you should try to read a dull, intellectual, dense book of his on theology to make you sleepy. But your eyes would only be drawn to the walls.
The green, elaborate wallpaper with vines, branches, and leaves, both golden and emerald. A few white flowers in bloom. You would walk to see more of it.
What struck you most was the image of a white bird with its wings stretched open. It flew over the leaves of various green and yellow branches. Among white and blue flowers in bloom- of a new, exciting life, of promise. And most of all, the animal stretching its ivory wings as if ruled over all. Like it could escape the paper easily, soar over your head, and out the window.
How you wished you could turn into that bird. So you could stretch your wings and fly far away from the town. From him. And leave it all behind for a new place, a new life.
But you couldn’t.
You would go downstairs, past the kitchen, to the main room. downstairs to curl up on the cushions before the window overlooking the wild marshland, the town. And let yourself sob.
Thank the norns Loki called in his deal when he did. You didn’t know what would happen. He’d call in the deal, but by then, it would be too late.
I’m not in that house, I’m in the woods, you reminded yourself.
Giving a deep breath through the woodsy, clean air, you made a mental note. You’d have to give your husband, the one that was your actual husband, who was not a godly husband but a plain old god husband- that long-awaited thank you. You didn’t think you could bear going through the marriage or have the scarlet letter for jilting him at the altar without an escape plan.
You thought you would just stay in Asgard. Take care of the cauldron and Grendel all neat in a little bow. Then things changed.
You would not be that passive, sobbing victim anymore.
You had fought. You managed to take your revenge, completely.
It wasn’t the right thing to do. It wasn’t healthy. But gods, was it freeing.
As you walked further into the woods. A small laugh of relief even chuckled through you. The release, the ridiculousness, and the awe that you had done it- destroyed Will’s ministry, and his reputation, and brought physical harm to both him and Cora all without getting caught.
But…did they survive? That was quite a flame on her. It would be the same for him.
Pausing, touching a tree, you had to think it through. Develop a plan.
If they lived and said something, then the better for you. That would confirm the rumors of the affair, damning both in society. No person would want to associate with Cora at least after that. The visiting council would strip Will of his position with the evidence before them. The superstitious town would be convinced that God had stricken them as punishment for hurting his little Blessed lady. For none knew of your gifts. And none would think you even capable of any act of harm from your reputation as the town’s angel. Besides, none of them knew of your powers. How could even Cora, in her scientific high and mighty mind come up with the solution of why her coat burst into flames when you were far away?
If they lived and said nothing, then at least Will would get in some hot water over what happened.
If they died, then they died. It was their deserving death.
You paused. No, how could you dismiss that? To think- you took two more lives. Not just some nameless bullies, but two people who you met, you knew their names, their histories, and one you loved and were about to marry…you were capable of that! You did something horrible! There was more blood on your hands!
You heard the sound of a branch being stepped on from the distance behind you.
What if Cora survived and ran right after you!? Likely she would. What would you do? With the fury still in your heart, perhaps take out more of her fire and toast her in a place without witnesses until her body dissolved to ash so there would be no evidence. But what if she caught you? You could see her face twisted in her ugly crying and feel her slapping and punching you.
Not that you would have to deal with her. You were headed off somewhere she could never reach. Not even by train.
Taking a deep breath, you let those thoughts of Will and Cora go away. You were done with Aldwinter forever now. Revenge had been taken and was successful. You wanted to see your friends, your in-laws, and your True Love again. You wanted your new home.
You paused in your steps. The trees growing so thick over your head it hid the sunlight and made the woods a little darker.
There was another crunch of feet on leaves. Someone was arriving. No more time for dallying.
You opened the shield. You sent the words clear in your mind.
“Loki…I’m ready to go home…Open the portal. I want to go back to Asgard now.”
You waited one minute. Then another.
But nothing happened. The birds were barely chirping and the air was cold. Shivering, you blinked as you tried not to panic.
“Loki, I am ready now. It’s done. Open the portal, take me back to Asgard.”
Nothing. You heard none of his witty replies or promises or cheekiness. And you saw no portals. Much less Loki. There was only the rustling of the trees.
Did…did he have his shield up? Why? Did something happen in Asgard? You should keep trying.
Then…you heard something- more footsteps.
It was more than one person.
But, you heard more than one footstep. Was it a party of men? In the evenings they would go to the marshes, hunting for serpents and trickster gods with torches, scanning the waters and fields. Some began setting up charms so that their daughters would be safe. Did they realize you were missing and send a search party…
You saw one man, then two, then four. No torches, they were smirking at you like wolves with a plump, injured lamb.
You felt your stomach drop. They were Gerndel’s army.
One stepped forward with short blonde hair and was overly muscular.
“Ah…looks like we’ve caught you. Right where we want to,” he said.
You felt their eyes on your nightgown. Peeking at how your body’s outline could be seen, your breasts hinted at, and feel the air of unwanted lust. And you were one woman surrounded by men.
Terrified, you held out a hand to release fire to them.
But no flames emerged from your hand.
Hurriedly, you tried again. But nothing. Your breaths came fast and shallow and you could feel yourself shaking. They snickered as they walked forward slowly. Knowing no matter what pace they set, they would win.
You retreated, realizing they were going to back you into a tree, as you tried to back into one, they would still keep a steady pace. There was nowhere to run or hide. Bile ran up in your throat. You fought back the urge to cry. You began to gasp for air, seeing their smiles, their eyes bright over you. One unsheathed his sword with a sliiiick, and the blade gleamed brightly in the dark woods. Silver and spotless and ready to be soaked with your blood.
You tried flicking a hand again, but there were no flames. You realized your senses were dulled- you couldn’t feel or hear any presence besides the four men before you and the dark, consuming woods.
“Ah, ah, ah! Someone took a little bit of our old friend’s apples.” The blonde one taunted.
“You’ve…you’ve poisoned me!?” you cried, your voice becoming shrill.
Another, a gentleman with dark brown hair, tall and lanky, shook his head with a half laugh.
“If you dropped dead right now…where would be the fun in that? Oh, not poison. Just a littke Kunigr potion. ”
You remembered the arrow that drained Loki of his magic in Jotunheim. Then you recalled the apple, the only thing you ate today. It struck you…your mother got those apples from a new grocer in town….
It all came into place. Panic made you shake, your throat and chest tight. The brown-haired man lifted his finger, beckoning you teasingly.
“Now…come with us…we can have some fun with you if you don’t struggle. You won’t get a scratch on you…for now. And won’t Grendel be thrilled when we hear who we caught?”
You steadied your breathing. You had to steady yourself- or enough that you could act, that you could fight. Hoping, praying to whatever god was out there, the Christian God, the trickster god, anyone, that your training was enough.
The brown-haired one approached you. Quick as lightning, you punched his jaw and then kicked his groin. As he backed down, his grip on his sword loosened as he groaned in pain. In one brief second, you kicked his hand. His hold loosened and the sword fell. Quickly, you grabbed the sword by the hilt and pointed forward. You were terrified, but you would not give up. Not yet.
“Ah, now, this kitty’s got claws!” the blonde one mocked mocked.
You steeled yourself, pointing the sword. Making your hold steady.
“What, haven’t you considered that you’re outnumbered?” said the third, another brunette with a scar across his face.
You stepped forward, speaking with the powerful venom you could muster.
“Do you expect me to surrender that easily? I will not. I am the Princess of Asgard, beloved wife of the God of Mischief, and third in line to the throne. I may have lost my magic, but I am not untrained in other methods of slaughtering all of you. I have killed, I just killed, and I will kill again. And I will not die here without a fight.”
They all got out their swords.
“That’s enough chatter,” replied the first blonde.
They charged. As did you.
Thrusting the sword forward, gritting your teeth, you stabbed through the gut of one. Blood erupted and he let out a cry. He wouldn’t last long, and you pulled out the sword to hasten his meeting with his maker. As the second tried to grab you, you merely dodged low, his sword through the air. His lower body was left open. You stabbed him through the groin- quickly in and out, blood bursting into gushes as he screamed in pain.
Blood dripped from your sword in its coppery scent. One attacked you and you blocked with your sword, the metal clinging as it stung the air. You swirled around. Stabbing and cutting. Dodging blows and putting up a fight. But they were advancing on you and you had to block two swords, it was harder to keep up.
There were shouts. You turned your head and saw a glimpse that almost loosened your bladder at the sight-
Five more men were coming. Five more of Grendel’s men. You heard the swords being unsheathed and saw them glimmer even in the woods.
They were now in sight and joined their two brethren.
They were right, you were outnumbered. Seven to one. And they were starting to circle you.
Though your muscles ached from the sword, and your nightgown was splattered in some blood-you couldn’t let them win easily. You fought the urge to tremble, to cry. And you held your ground, your sword pointed. You knew your death was arriving sooner with every second, every step of their feet. Your heart hammering despite your aching muscles. You had to keep going. Somehow. Someway. You gritted your teeth and held up your sword to fight until the end. That at least you would face your end with dignity.
They raised their sword to strike at you, and you raised yours, ready to fight this futile battle and-
There was a loud, metallic growl from the distance. A sound you never heard before. So loud, that it rattled the trees. Then another.
Grendel’s men stopped and turned their heads with wide eyes. You couldn’t help but pause in wonder.
It got louder and louder and louder, something was coming. The men looked among themselves. You took their distraction to start to flee, and you made it to a tree when something pierced your field of vision.
Turning back, you saw bright lights.
Their heads turned and they grew pale, holding out arms to block the lights.
One of them grabbed you, dragging you by the collar, almost hoisting you up as you faced him, his eyes glaring into you and his blade ready at you.
“I’ll-I’ll stab you twenty times through your cunt, you little bitch!” he growled.
The sword was knocked from his hand and he cried in surprise. His grip loosened.
You both looked.
There was the sound and two lights ran by with the whirring-it then revealed what it was-
It was the thing Loki told you about. A motorcycle- and a man on it with a helmet- one hand on the steering wheel and the other around a pistol pointed at him.
The man said no reply until a bullet hit him in the shoulder. He let go of you and cried in pain.
You gasped at your rescuer- adn then realized the source of the bright lights-the other thing Loki told you about.
Through the woods, bursting through like a chariot was a car. The men of Grendel all stood, staring agape. But the motorcyclist held up his gun, pointing.
Out from the car, emerged Robert.
“Y/N! Y/N! Hurry- come in!” he urged.
“Get in the car, now!” he cried.
You let out a gasp and could have cried. You hurried to them. The men gritted their teeth and raised swords-
The motorcyclist said nothing as he lifted his weapon and aimed, quickly but steadily. The gun was fired with a loud crack in the air.
One of the goons dropped dead.
Only one of your friends you knew was capable of that, and would come from an era where he knew how to do that-
“Jonathan!” you cried out.
His helmet was still focused his gun raised. His voice distorted, but you knew it was him. Not daring to take it off to give himself a target for them to hurt him.
“The Princess of Asgard with us- let her come with us. And no one gets hurt.”
“YN! Hurry!” Robert urged.
You would not look at the scene as Jonathan began to shoot more at those who attacked. You turned on your heels and ran into the car’s side door, slamming the door shut.
You followed and jumped in. A far cry from any run-of-the-mill carriage you had been! The velvet, soft seats, and big, wide windows and space. You saw the knobs and turns and levers from the front. You covered your ears as bullets rang out. When you peeked back, the men of Grendel were dead.
Jonathan turned to Robert, nodding his head.
Jonathan got out his watch and clicked it.
“Time to go to Heimdall, let’s hurry,” Robert urged.
A portal opened in the woods.
Robert stepped on a pedal, and moved the wheel- he drove through the portal. There was a flash of bright, rainbow light swirling about you.
You landed on the other side, in a golden room. With the night sky in a large window before all. Then Robert hit the brake and parked. Jonathan’s motorcycle followed after.
You noticed a man standing in the center of the room. He walked to you, and at first, you were intimidated. There was an incredibly tall, broad man with piercing yellow eyes matching the gold of his armor and his helmet.
He spoke in a deep powerful voice- he could have been the new king of Asgard and you would have accepted it.
“Well, you both made it.”
His head turned. His golden eyes easily spotted you, not squinting though you were far away. Despite his intimidating presence, his face softened. He gave you a small bow in respect.
“I am glad for our Princess’s safe return,” he said.
“We got her just in time. Can’t blame her for being shaken,” Robert confirmed.
“Yes, I saw it all. Now hurry, all of you. All of the castle is worried for her.”
Robert drove by pulling the wheel, and then the car went down the rainbow bridge. Jonathan’s motorcycle was right behind, whirring along. Looking out, you finally realized- you felt like that white bird in flight at last. Wings stretched out, the beautiful world before you. Not only safe, not only loved- but free.
The blue sky and sun shone. The gentlest summer day. The sea that formed around you in a crystal blue-green. And you almost tore at the outline of the glittering, golden city, Asgard as it got closer, until you were driving through its streets. Passing commoners with astonished faces.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you turned to the doctor driving.
“Robert! Oh, Robert!” you cried. “You -came for me! You both did!”
Robert looked at you with a gentle smile, the speed of the car steady.
“You don’t have to be frightened, Y/N. You’re with us now- you’ll be fine,” he assured you.
You went over and kissed his cheek chastely. “Thank you!”
“Save some for Jonathan too!” he replied with a wink. He was still Robert. And Jonathan would still be Jonathan. Each of them- your friends, your friends! You were going to see them all again!
Excitement gurgled in you as Robert parked the car outside the palace. The guard's eyes flickered to the contraption, as well as the motorcycle. Jonathan parked it and then took off his helmet, his eyes serious, but his shoulder dipping in relaxation and a small smile on his face.
You ran over and gave him a big hug and he hugged you back.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.
“I’m glad too,” you said.
“Now, I think it’s time you’ve reunited with your husband,” he announced.
They escorted you right into the palace through the hallways and into the throne room. You were astonished to see so many of them there, sitting and pacing about in worry. Thor and Hal were talking quietly. Thomas sitting on the steps next to Stella, doing embroidery anxiously. Queen Frigga remained as composed as she could as Sif paced around.
They all turned and there were smiles and gasps. They took in your nightgown and the blood and you- alive and breathing and seeming physically well.
At once they all gasped your name and charged into you, saying your name. Sif’s eyes flickered to Robert and then back to you.
“Did you give them hel?” she asked.
You nodded, showing her the bloodied sword still in your hand. “I gave it to all who wronged me back there, and didn’t spare Grendel’s men from it.”
She smirked. “That’s my girl.”
Stella ran forward and hugged you.
“YN! Oh, YN! You poorest thing! You gave us all a fright! I thought I would cry- I thought you would be gone forever! I missed you so much!”
You hugged her back.
“Don’t worry, I got scared-but I’ll be fine.”
Thor at once charged forward. He hugged you and lifted you so your feet didn’t touch the ground. He shook you around, hugging you like an overexcited toddler with their beloved toy.
“SISTER! My dear Sister! You are RETURNED! How victorious! My brother said he missed your signal and it FRIGHTENED him! Why, thank the NORNS!”
Hal patted at Thor and he let you down. You welcomed him with a hug.
“Well, I’m royalty as well, dear lady. You shall have no bows from me, yet the title suits you- to see you returned alive and triumphant!”
You hugged him back. “Hal, thank you!”
You then hugged Thomas as well.
“You gave Loki a scare- all of us.”
“My powers were taken away- they have to come back with time. But I’m fine- Jonathan and Robert saved me before I could get hurt,” you assured him.
Frigga even embraced you. She smiled.
“I hoped you and Loki would both realize how much you loved each other. And I thought I would never see you both happy together…I can’t even speak right now.”
She let go and cupped your face and then kissed your forehead.
“You are of Asgard now, and I welcome and bless your union and you with all of my heart,” she said.
You could have teared up.
“But, speaking of unions…where is he? Where is my husband?” you asked, looking around.
Thor folded his arms.
“He was getting the army of Asgard to go to the forest. He got scared that perhaps Jonathan and Robert wouldn’t be enough- they were preparing to search for you, but-”
You heard footsteps. And several voices.
But one stood out
Though it was a voice exactly like so many in your life, past and present, there was no denying whose name it belonged to. His voice.
“YN! YN!! All of you- stand and run firm! Destroy any who dare touch a hair on your princess’s head! Where is-”
Loki hurried forth, several guards and soldiers of Asgard behind him. His black and green robes with little gold embellishments. Typical of him, but with his black curls, ivory skin, and blue eyes, he never looked so beautiful to you before this moment. His eyes met yours and you paused. He froze, blinking. His boots almost skidded to a halt as you took each other in for a second.
Tears welling up some, you replied in a small voice. “I thought I’d never see you again, darling.”
Loki seemed to turn white, and you saw his hands shake at his sides. He frantically checked the others in the crowd. “Is this some illusion? Did mother-”
Robert clapped your back.
“We got her. This isn’t an illusion, Loki. She’s here,” he assured the god.
You cupped your mouth and he stood, breathing fast, crying tears coming out from you despite your smile. He walked again, faster, hurrying through, as if he would tear through each realm to touch you again.
You ran right into each other's arms. He picked you up and turned you again. You broke into crying again. You curled a hand behind his dark hair, kissing his lips and then his cheek and any part of him. A sound came out of you like laughter.
“Loki- Loki darling, I’m here! I’m right here!”
He broke the hug and then cupped your face.
“Are you hurt? What happened? I lost your signal! The one you promised me!”
Sniffling, you began to recount what happened.
“You were right to be worried, Loki. I was tricked into eating a Kunnigr apple. My magic was drained by the time Grendel’s men cornered me…I held them off for as long as I could. Then reinforcements came. Robert and Jonathan hurried in before I could be made prisoner or worse. They brought me here!”
There were big eyes as the others took in this information.
He hugged you again. You felt yourself shake some, crying, laughing, as if every emotion at once was washing inside you.
“How I missed you all, and…husband–my…my husband! My dear! I missed you most of all! I love you, darling! Loki- thank you! You saved me! You brought me back!”
“I would have torn Midgard to pieces to get you back- I love you, my wife,” he replied.
Your heart bursting at the fresh word, spoken from his mouth instead of in your mind, you kissed him on the lips again. Soft, but eager, demanding. Wanting to touch him, reacquaint with him. And never let go no matter what.
Hal was smiling wide and Stella was blushing pink. Jonathan looked down, trying not to laugh. Frigga merely then began to wave them off with her long sleeves. Turning away discreetly.
“Everyone…I think it’s best we let the couple have some privacy…” she suggested. Everyone gave a farewell smile, with a promise of a return.
Loki only held your hands and hurried you through the halls, the guards not behind you, right to where his chambers were.
“But…Grendel, the cauldron-what will we do?” you asked.
Loki caught you in his arms and you gasped. Carrying you, he led you to the threshold of his private room. He smiled mischievously.
“I think the Grendel matter could wait for a few minutes, don’t you agree?” your true love asked.
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muddyorbsblr · 11 months
Text
the final Lady Sharpe part 3: unorthodox signals
Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!
Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo
Summary: The first night of your mission to put Lucille away finishes with an unexpected request from Thomas
Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader
Word Count: 5.7k [get a snack or a drink ready]
Warnings: ghosts; the McMichaels; the teensiest bit of steam [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: Reader & Thomas are married; the start of pining
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"Do you really think that this will be enough to put her away?"
Your first candle was just about to run out, telling you that over half of your first night in this possibly deadly operation in the hopes of putting Lucille Sharpe away for all the crimes she'd committed since Thomas was barely a young man was already over. Edith had guided you throughout the manner, finding the documents that held the records of marriages, deaths, money transfers and the like not too far from your shared bedroom with the baronet. A cursory glance through all the documents told you that alone they would barely have any leg to stand on and your hopes of putting her away would be significantly lowered.
You needed every morsel of evidence you could find.
Edith kept you company through the night, an invisible apparition of a lookout, talking with you while waiting for ink to dry so you could start copying the next line of the document. Mostly you two talked about her life before it came to a screeching halt courtesy of the business end of Lucille Sharpe's cleaver; how she wanted to be a writer and had made significant progress on her first novel that the murderous Lady Sharpe had burned to ash before ending her life.
If you survived this endeavor, you offered to pen down the novel once more at Edith's dictation to have her story published. So that her name may live on and her soul would live on in peace knowing that one of her dreams had been accomplished in a way.
"All of these together could build a strong enough case," you answered the spirit. "The only thing is it could build a case either against Lucille…or Thomas; there's nothing here so far that could undeniably present that it's her pulling these strings. What do the recording cylinders hold?"
"Enola's testimony that Lucille knows how to prepare the poison, the location of her cleaver, and that the money that has been inherited and co-mingled with the Sharpe estate has been used to complete the machine."
"Circumstantial," you mumbled, finishing up the fourth page for the night, leaving you a remainder of around five dozen sheets of paper along with transcribing the cylinders. "Anything else?"
"How about a spoken confession from Lucille?" That had your ears perk up, putting the pen down and allowing for the ink to dry before moving on to the next line. "Before she killed me she told me about how she made Thomas marry for the money. For the mines and for the machine and ultimately so they could find a way to make even more. But how all the horror that they dealt the world was for love."
"Lead with that next time, please," you breathed out, realizing that you now had the smoking gun. "What about a journal? A place where she kept track of all the prospects before ultimately choosing someone for Thomas to marry?"
"From what Enola has told me those get burned once the marriage certificate gets signed." Your ghostly companion sounded disappointed over that bit of information, almost as if she was apologizing to you for not being able to give you that. "Y/N if it's alright to ask…why did you decide to help Thomas? We could have helped you escape without his participation. In fact, everything you're doing now could have been done without his knowledge. Why tell him and risk betrayal? What if he's telling Lucille about your plan as we speak?"
"Good question," you blurted out a little louder than you intended. "Honestly when he explained to me what had been going on, part of me could see that in his own way…he was a victim in Lucille's plotting, too. I saw the remorse in his eyes as he talked about you…all of you. If he was being sincere and he truly wanted to be free from someone who had utilized him for her own selfish, hedonistic gain since he was but a boy, then I would be cruel to know all this and choose to not help him. Now, if he is betraying me and Lucille comes after me with her cleaver…or God help us something else…then that would be on his conscience if I die tonight. Or they do. In truth I wouldn't face any consequence upon their deaths because it would be an act of self defense."
You'd just finished copying the entirety of the fourth page when you were startled with a loud groan resonating from the attic.
"What in God's name was that?"
"It seems…it's Thomas. Maybe he's giving you a signal? How much of the second candle is left?"
You put the remaining candle next to your thumb. "Just a little over half a thumb's worth…" you trailed off. "I didn't tell him to give me a signal…"
A murmured second voice seemed to have joined Edith, which you surmised was most likely Enola. "She's asleep," Edith spoke after a few moments of less than whisper quiet tones. "Perhaps he hedged on the side of caution and made sure you wouldn't be navigating these halls without a light. How thoughtful of him." The slight teasing tone in her words didn't escape you, but you chose not to question it and instead gathered the original documents and placed them in the order which you found them earlier tonight, rushing over to the dresser in the hall near your bedroom and stashing them back in the drawer.
"Edith…do you think we'll actually succeed in this?" Throughout the night, you kept on inwardly voicing your doubts, wondering if perhaps you'd planned too meticulously, or maybe even not enough. That somewhere along the way in the next few weeks, you would have missed something and instead of tasting freedom at the end of this, you would instead be joining your newfound apparitional friend haunting the corridors of Allerdale Hall.
"You will," she answered you as you crossed the threshold to Thomas' workshop, finding a journal for sketches that you could sneak the copies you'd finished into. "It's too late for me to succeed in something like this, so really all I can do is help you -- and Thomas -- so that you can live your life free from Lucille."
"Our lives," you corrected. "If we make it out of this with our lives intact, he deserves to be with someone he actually loves."
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The sound of water filling the bathtub greeted Thomas once he stepped into your shared bedroom, his brows knitting together in confusion once he stepped into the bathroom and spotted you standing beside the faucet in your sleeping gown. He couldn't help but to stare at how the moonlight shone through the window and hit your features in a way that he could only describe as celestial.
As if you were an angel sent his way, about to hold his hand and guide him out of the dark path he walked for most of his life.
"I drew you a bath," you said softly, shutting off the tap and already shuffling your way toward the door when he began to close the distance between you two. "Figured you'd want to clean up after…" You motioned your hand toward the ceiling, vaguely toward the attic where Lucille currently laid asleep. "…all that."
He held you lightly by your elbow to stop you from passing him. "You didn't need to do that."
"I know…" You gave him a tight-lipped smile, so far off from the one that he'd gotten to know before you were married. So distant that you may as well have been standing on the other end of the room instead of mere inches away. Almost as if you'd viewed him as no more than a stranger.
The thought alone made his heart grow heavy, a desperation clawing at him to know what he must do just to see that smile of yours again. The type that could light up a room and draw everyone's attention to you. The kind that dimpled your cheek and reached your eyes and all he could do in response was give you a smile of his own. Or kiss you.
"But personally whenever I had to do something that didn't sit right in my soul, I found it best to wash it off of my body at least before going to bed," you offered, placing your hand over his and easing yourself out of his hold. "Goodnight, Thomas."
Just before you completely slipped from his reach, he wrapped his hand around yours in a delicate hold. "W-Wait…Y/N, please," he stammered, tracing his thumb along the length of your fingers just as he once did even yesterday in the carriage ride as you two made your way to the decaying house.
We should have stayed in the city. The words begged to be uttered, weighing uncomfortably on the tip of his tongue. We could have been happy together.
"What is it?"
"I…I don't wish for the last thing I do before I sleep to be a—a distraction," he mumbled, heart hammering away at his throat, fearing what you would answer to what he wanted to ask of you. "I-If it would be alright with you, the last thing I wish to do before I go to bed tonight would be…a kiss."
Your expression went unchanged, remaining as distant and…almost defensive, as your eyes roamed his features. The silence from you was near deafening to him, the only sound that he could register being the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.
"You don't need to say yes--"
"Wash your mouth first," you said in a rush, a tiny tentative smile twitching at the corner of your mouth. "Because I refuse to kiss the same lips she kissed."
Thomas stayed where he stood for a good few moments after you slipped out of his hold, stunned that you'd given only that simple stipulation and that ultimately, you agreed.
The shameful memories of Lucille's touch would not be the haunting lingering thought that plagued him before sleep would overtake him tonight. For even just a fleeting moment, he could convince himself that tonight he would go to bed having only kissed his wife goodnight. He could allow himself to picture what life with you would be like if you both succeeded in this plan of yours.
How you two would live out your newfound freedom together.
The mere thought brought tears to his eyes, envisioning what it would be like to wake in the morning contentedly holding you in his arms, your only concerns in the world paling in comparison to what he worried of now.
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Warmth couldn't find you as you sat on the bed waiting for the sound of the water draining from the tub, no matter that you were on the side of the bed that was closer to the fireplace, or that the windows were closed and the wintery wind could not enter the room. The cold was coming from inside you, all stemming from the question of why did you agree to Thomas' wish so quickly.
Were you honestly so desperate to have a semblance of the marriage that you'd thought you signed your life off to that you were willing to instigate a sense of intimacy with a man you found yourself questioning if he was worthy of your trust? Could you even bring yourself to sleep in the same bed as him after all that had been revealed today?
How come the answer to both those questions was not a clear and resounding 'no'?
"I've never felt so stupid," you whispered into the quiet, wondering if Edith was present in the room with you now, the faint pang of disappointment prodding at your mind tauntingly when you heard nothing in return. "Too handsome for me to even have thought of knowing better."
The sound of water rushing into the drain jolted you out of your thoughts, having to make a conscious effort to take steadying breaths when Thomas stepped out of the bathroom with nothing but a thin bathing towel quickly becoming translucent from the water covering his lithe form. Suddenly you were conspicuously interested in the pattern of the flaming embers of the fireplace, keeping your gaze fixed at the blazing corner of the room until you felt the bed dip beside you.
It confounded you more when he shuffled closer to where you sat on the bed, fingers resting gently atop yours as he tucked his fingers under your chin to turn your gaze to him. "What did you gather from tonight?"
You had to fight against your urge to breathe out audibly in relief, your nerves over his request from earlier easing off somewhat at the much simpler turn the conversation had taken. "There are about sixty-five sheets worth of documents. I was able to fully copy four pages, but I think I can go faster if I can make the ink dry quicker…possibly up to seven or even eight pages a night, which would give me more time to work on transcribing the photograph cylinders."
"Would I be able to help you? About the ink?"
You shook your head slightly, shaking his light grasp on your chin only to have him cup the side of your face, fingers weaving through your hair, thumb stroking along your cheekbone. "I need to find a way to warm the paper and also procure thinner ink, so I'll go into the city tomorrow morning and see what I find."
"I could accompany you, make a day of it." The furrow between his brows visibly relaxed when you nodded, accepting his offer. The air around you felt thinner once more when his gaze flickered to your lips. "You truly are ethereal in this light," he breathed out as he leaned in close enough that you could hear his staggered breaths. "Brilliant," he whispered, barely audible, before he pressed his lips to yours in a tender kiss.
A faint whimper escaping you seemed to spur him on, each kiss becoming less restrained than the last, causing a near violent fluttering in your stomach the moment you felt his tongue tracing along the parting of your lips. There was a split second when he pulled away from you that you instinctively leaned toward him, chasing his kiss, before you caught yourself.
The sight of him giving you a tender smile greeted you when you opened your eyes, him seemingly content to stay right where he was, faces inches apart with his thumb tracing along your bottom lip. "Thank you."
"It's the least I could do," you said on instinct, assuming he meant what you'd done and agreed to tonight once he walked back into the bedroom.
"Y/N…" he breathed your name, his warm exhale grazing your skin from his closeness. "You're putting an end to the horror that has plagued most of my life. That is more than enough. More than I could ask for." He took you by surprise when he leaned in to press another soft kiss to your lips. "More than I deserve."
You immediately felt the loss of his touch when he scooted away and laid down on his side of the bed, moving you to follow suit as you wrestled with your thoughts and the outright diabolical turn your life had taken since stepping through the doors of his manor. How now you feared even sleeping only to wake with the maniacal Lucille standing over you with cleaver in hand.
Or perhaps you would not wake at all. Perhaps you would open your eyes and suddenly you would know the face of your apparitional friend Edith, because you were now cursed to haunt the halls of this possessed manor right alongside her.
What puzzled you the most was that if that were to happen, you would miss Thomas. And feel a sense of guilt about you that you were unable to deliver on your promise to end his sister's horrendous ways.
"Y/N, would it be too much if I were to ask for one more thing?" Thomas spoke into the quiet of the room. "You can say no I would completely understand."
"What is it?" You tried to keep your tone even, to not give it away that you were restless as well.
"May I hold you?"
The air left your lungs at his request, your thoughts racing with what his reasoning behind wanting to form this sense of intimacy with you when you knew that after all this you two would be little more than strangers. You tried to weave a sense of rationality into your decision. "Would it help you sleep?"
"Perhaps," he breathed out, already moving his arm to make space for you. "Since we met I always felt I could…breathe easier when you were near. I would sleep easier knowing that when I woke the next morning I would see you again. And now that you're here—"
You moved in the bed before he could finish his answer, shuffling into the space right beside him and settling against his side, grateful for the shadows cast upon your face from the fire now facing away from you, hiding the way your eyes widened and your brows knit together when he let out a sigh and visibly relaxed. When your head rested on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer and pressing a light kiss to your forehead.
"Goodnight, darling," he whispered into your skin, wrapping his other arm around you as well and pulling you into a full embrace, half of your torso laying atop of his bare chest.
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"I'm just saying, Y/N, things around here the last few days have just been a few touches too bleak for my taste without you coming in to request some obscure ingredient or equipment for one of your experiments for Scotland Yard. It's so good to see you again, and married! You've no idea how jarring it was to hear it from Jeffries and Rhodes that you hadn't taken on a case in nearly two months and then so casually mention that they'd last seen you when you dropped by the station to tell them you were taking an indefinite break from cases for your wedding!"
You'd spend the last few minutes catching up with the owner of the assorted goods shop you frequented, Suzanne, a woman that seemed to be able to work miracles and find whatever it was you needed for investigating your cases throughout the years. The moment you walked through the doors of her shop, she dropped everything and pulled you into a tight embrace as if it had been years since you two last saw each other.
Considering the coldness of Lucille back in Allerdale and the bizarre mix of comfort and trepidation you felt this morning waking in Thomas' arms, the familiarity of your years long acquaintance's warmth and hospitality was such a welcome change. So welcome that it threatened to move you to tears with how it nearly overwhelmed you with relief.
"It's so good to see you, too, Suzanne." You picked up the parcel of parchments and a bottle containing a more thinned out ink compared to the one you used last night. "This'll help a great deal. Also…any chance you have a few long candles laying around?"
"Absolutely. How many?"
You did a quick computation in your mind, adding a few for contingency's sake. "Five dozen?"
She didn't even seem surprised by your request. "Is this for another case? None of the detectives I've crossed paths with mentioned you're working on something from their board."
"More a…personal project," you offered, a half truth considering that this would eventually become a case when the station received the copied documents. Or when they investigate your mysterious and untimely demise at the hands of your demented sister in law. "You know me, always have to make sure I have a little more than enough in case mistakes are--"
"Lord have mercy," she gasped out, her attention completely taken by whatever or whoever was at the door. "What a sight."
You suppressed the grin threatening to split your face in two when you caught sight of Thomas walking into the shop and making his way toward you, his overcoat swaying gently with each step. "I've placed the order. Parts should arrive in three weeks," he spoke, all the while keeping a hand behind his back as he approached you. "And as I made my way here I came across this and thought it would be a welcome spot of color in our room."
He brought his hand around to reveal a small bouquet of sunflowers, a bright smile stretching across his face as he saw your own smile playing at your features once you caught sight of the brilliant yellow.
"It complements your eyes," he said softly, holding the flower up next to your face, effortlessly keeping you captive under his steely blue gaze.
The sound of a throat clearing brought you out of your trance, turning to face the shop owner once again. "Suzanne, I'd like you to meet my husband, Sir Thomas Sharpe." Her jaw had gone slack staring at the two of you, giving him the slightest nod and a small wave, all the while the awe never left her expression.
"Have you got everything you need, darling?"
You nearly blurted out that all you needed were the candles when another item crossed your mind. "Nearly everything." You turned to address Suzanne once more. "You wouldn't happen to have some magnesium pills on hand, would you?"
"I'll see what I can find." She gave you both a curt nod before walking into her stock room. "Is everything alright? These are usually a last resort when all you do is toss and turn in the night."
"Just…some trouble sleeping," you called out into the direction of the door, holding up a hand in Thomas' direction when he opened his mouth to question the order. "Might just be the adjustment period after moving and all. Unpacking and familiarizing myself to a new environment."
"Oh! You've left the city?"
"Yes. I moved in to Thomas' home just outside the city. You know Allerdale Hall?"  The sound of her stumbling on something raised your concern. "Are you alright in there? Do you need some help?"
"Forgive me for sounding like a dolt, but I've heard that that manor is condemned. Haunted, even. Everyone that had ever stepped foot across those doors swears they hear voices coming from the walls."
You shared a look with your husband, raising your eyebrow at him in a playfully taunting expression before answering the shop owner, "It's just the East Wind." He held a hand against his mouth to stifle the chuckles that escaped him. "Write it off as nothing more than an old wives' tale, my friend." You quietly shuffled a bit closer to Thomas before finishing in a more hushed voice, "Because what they're hearing are quite literally old wives…"
That had him shaking from the laughter he was holding back, moving his hand to wrap around you and pull you to his side, pressing a kiss into your hair and causing you to slightly shake as well from his barely restrained chuckling. When Suzanne had stepped out of the stock room with a box in hand along with a small tin of what you assumed were the pills you asked for, this was how she saw you two, a warm smile gracing her lips as she visibly melted at his gesture.
"I've never seen a husband so smitten with his wife," she commented as she placed the items on the counter. "It's so refreshing to see a couple so beautifully in love."
The sound of a sharp chime of the bell distracted you from the slight ache you felt from Suzanne's words, a tinge of guilt mixed with what you could only speculate was longing threatening to consume your thoughts. A group of three walked through, two ladies dressed in bright colors and frills with matching hats as a garish show of their affluence, and a gentleman in a definitively more muted business suit.
Recognition dawned in the eyes of each new visitor as soon as they spotted Thomas, the older woman's lip slightly upturned into an unsubtle sneer, while the younger woman straightened her posture, the swell of her breasts nearly bursting from the tight low neckline of her dress. Meanwhile the gentleman a few steps behind them shifted his attention quickly to the small collection of antique photographs by the front of the store.
"Thomas!" the younger woman sighed in a completely unnatural breathy tone that you recognized as an attempt in being flirtatious. "It's so good to see you again. We haven't seen you back in town since Edith's funeral. Honestly I feared that I--" The older woman lightly swatted her arm, both admonishing her and showing you that this was most likely her mother. "That we would never see you again."
It was almost as if the two women were making a conscious effort to disregard your presence, the daughter's eyes constantly flickering away from you the moment her gaze traveled in your general direction, and the mother staring right through you, as if the wall behind you was more interesting. Perhaps it truly was.
"Eunice was so eager to see you again despite the tragedy." The mother's tone reeked of cold calculation, a near mirror to Lucille's back in the manor. As if she were trying to sway his attention to her daughter.
You vaguely remembered something Edith had mentioned last night about pompous women back in her hometown filled to the brim with backhanded compliments and thinly veiled threats of putting others they deemed 'unworthy' in their 'rightful place in society'. This must be who she was referring to.
"It truly did not occur to me you would find yourselves back in London, Mrs McMichael." There was an obvious restraint in Thomas' tone that reminded you of how he questioned Lucille's suggestion for tea when you arrived in Allerdale yesterday afternoon, as if in his own way, he was trying to tell the woman across from you to take a step back. "What brings you back to London?"
"Oh, well Alan is here for a conference and Eunice was absolutely beside herself to return to the city and…all it had to offer." You unsubtly raised a single eyebrow at the poorly veiled weight behind those words. The younger woman, Eunice, had come to see Thomas. And it seemed that her brother was doing a poor job at feigning indifference judging by the way his head slightly moved along with the motion of rolling his eyes. It was only then that this Mrs McMichael looked directly at you, her gaze so cold it was clearly accustomed to being able to cut right into a lesser woman's insecurities.
You…were no lesser woman.
"But I see that certain sights have already become a touch too crowded," she sighed, her tone so condescendingly derisive. "Who might you be?"
"Mrs McMichael, this is--"
"Y/N Sharpe," you cut your husband off, extending a hand towards the haughty woman. "Scotland Yard." The muted 'oooooh' from Suzanne had you fighting off a smirk. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
The older woman took a look at the items before you on the counter. "Seems an odd place for Scotland Yard to send off their secretary on a run for supplies." She then scanned your attire from head to toe, the feel of your husband's hand making its way from your waist to the pocket of your skirt quickly distracting you from the irritation beginning to worm its way into your expression. "Quite odd for them to make you dress in such an erudite manner, too. Don't secretaries back home dress a little more…simply, Eunice?"
You placed your hand over Thomas' inside your skirt's pocket, trying to discreetly pry his fingers away from the handle of your blade while answering the woman no more than a stranger patronizing you over the way you dressed. "Actually I'm an investigator. These aren't supplies for the station, they're for me. For a case." When his hand was no longer closed around your blade, his fingers intertwined with yours, you brought up your joint hands to press a quick kiss to the backs of his fingers, stifling back a chuckle at the seething glare that colored both women's faces. "I have everything I need. Let's go home."
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"I wasn't able to ask you while we were in the store," Thomas spoke a few minutes after the two of you had hopped on to the carriage back to Allerdale Hall, the entire time his fingers interlaced with yours, refusing to let you go. As if a part of him was fearful that if he let you slip away for even a few inches, even for the briefest moment, that you might not return.
He wouldn't blame you if that had been the case; being married to him seemed more a dangerous struggle than the blissful, romantic affair that poems and novels were written about. That was the marriage you deserved, and it weighed heavy on his heart to know that he could not give that to you.
Perhaps if you both survived this effort to put an end to Lucille's plotting, and if somehow Fate was kind to him and would not see him suffer too great a consequence for aiding in these schemes, then he could start to craft that picturesque, love-filled marriage that he had longed for his own life. The kind that would have built a home full of warmth, laughter, and comfort even in the icy chills of the country.
With you.
"What is it?" The way your thumb was absentmindedly rubbing circles on the knuckles of his fingers had him itching to pull you closer. To kiss you again like he had last night. And perhaps even test the waters into having it progress into something more.
"The magnesium pills…Why did you get them? Did you truly have trouble sleeping last night? I sincerely apologize if I--"
"No no, Thomas. You did nothing wrong." Your hold on his hand tightened slightly, as if pulling him out of his own head, bringing his focus back into reality. Back to you. "I erm--I actually slept quite peacefully," you mumbled, ducking your head down moments after he swore he saw your cheeks becoming tinged with pink. "They're for you."
Confusion overcame the baronet. Last night had been the most peaceful sleep he had in years, despite his participation in this possibly perilous endeavor you'd both signed yourselves up for. Painted a beautiful picture of what your life together would be once it was truly only just the two of you, and you would both come home after a day's work and settle into a more relaxed, intimate routine as husband and wife. "I don't think I need them, darling."
"I mean, should there ever be a night that you…can't stomach your part in this whole…" you trailed off, your free hand moving about as if you were trying to grasp the right word. "Situation…They're for that." You leaned in closer and spoke in a more hushed tone. "Take a pill, crush it into a powder, and stir it into her tea. They shouldn't give off a telling taste, but you can mask it with sugar if it helps. Put her right to sleep so that you won't have to--"
Your words were cut off in an adorable little squeak from the back of your throat as he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss, his heart awash with warmth when he felt you relaxing against him and heart a soft sigh right before you began to kiss him back. "You are a godsend," he whispered against you.
"Well, it is a wife's duty after all to lighten her husband's load as best she can," you retorted, chuckling lightly as you pulled away from him. He had to fight the urge to pull you closer once more. "It feels only but right to do what I can while I still hold that title."
Thomas felt his blood go cold, the chill spreading even to the tips of his fingers. "Wait. Y/N, what do you mean while--"
"Would I really be so cruel to help you escape one gilded cage just to put you in another?" Your eyes shone with a sincerity, an earnest to simply help with fulfilling a shared interest. "Thomas, when this is all over and if we both survive, the outcome I'm aiming for is that I get to live my life back here in the city. Keep on doing what I'm good at and solve more cases. As for you? You get to be free. To do with the manor what you wish, meet someone new, court them, and marry them by your terms."
He felt his whole body go numb as he tried to make sense of the words coming out of you, watching the images of the life he planned to build with you start to crumble in his mind. The image of a life as a free man without you to hold and kiss at the end of the day held little to no appeal for him.
I might prefer incarceration, he thought to himself bitterly. "Do you mean than when this is over what comes next would be--"
"Dissolution," you finished his question for him, effectively turning his heart into lead and dropping to the pit of his stomach. "You'll be free from me, too."
He could see from the smile on your face that you probably expected him to be relieved with this news. Ecstatic even. But every ounce of him screamed to tell you there was no need. That he didn't see life with you as a gilded cage. That your words felt as if you'd taken your blade and stuck it right through his heart before twisting it.
We should have stayed in the city.
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A/N: I don't think he likes that outcome very much… 🥴🫡
everything taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee
the final Lady Sharpe taglist: @lady-rose-moon @sassanoe @smolvenger @annoyingsweetsstranger @bombcitymiss22 @ladyloki3 @cakesandtom
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jokeringcutio · 1 year
Text
Send me prompts about these men
My hands are aching for some of these men x reader drabbling
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Mr Gold/ Rumplestiltskin
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Loki
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Hans Landa
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Captain James Hook
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Thomas Sharpe
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Albert Shaw/ The Grabber
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Arthur Harrow (Or Dr Harrow) (I'd also do Jake Lockley for you)
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Arthur Fleck / Joker I'M EAGER TO WRITE AU'S AS WELL. Especially with villain x reader motifs. So hit me up &lt;3
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lady-rose-moon · 2 years
Text
My sweet Baronet
Summary: being married to Sir Thomas Sharpe had some... inconvenient setbacks but you are sure to worth through them with your husband.
Warnings: smut, mentioned incest, Lucille Sharpe, angst, mentions of grooming 🤢
A/N: come on, I love writing for Thomas, gimme a break!!
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Allerdale was colder at night. You had to pull up the blankets to your chin to even feel a semblance of warmth. The house was falling apart and yet neither Thomas nor Lucille had paid for someone to repair it. You had offered to get the finest builders on the job but both had vehemently ordered that you not hire anyone. Then there were the ghosts that you kept seeing, they were always in your peripheral vision or disappeared just as you realised they were there. 
Thomas had always insisted that the ghosts were just your imagination but you knew that you saw them and you could see in your husband’s eye that he believed you. On the subject of your husband, he was once again not in your bed tonight. It was saddening that you were becoming used to being alone in the King sized bed when you fell asleep and awoke. 
You were fully awake tonight and decided that you would explore the crumbling mansion with your candelabra, the stray dog at your feet. Your bare feet pattered against the rotting floorboards as you walked along the floor that you were on. Thomas’s grand bedroom seemed to take up most of the floor but the other side was unfurnished as if all the furniture had been sold because of lack of use. 
Something urged you up the stairs, the hairs on your arm rising as you came up into the attic, hearing the soft song of a woman; Lucille. Dread pooled in your stomach as you edged closer to Lucille’s bedroom door and when you turned the knob and the door swung open, you were greeted with the sight of Lucille on Thomas’s lap, her hand down the front of his trousers and his mouth locked on her neck. 
You were so tempted to say something but before they could register that you had been there, you had closed the door again and swept down the stairs back into Thomas’s spacious bedroom. 
You began to pace the floor as you nibbled on one of your nails. They slept together. They loved each other. Thomas doesn’t love you. The recording tubes that you listened to, the photo of a baby, you realised now that the baby wasn’t Thomas’s with Enola, it was Lucille’s baby.
Nausea rose in your throat but you swallowed it down as you moved to sit on the windowsill and watch the snow fall. You were in a one-sided marriage. You loved Thomas more than anything, he had been there for you endlessly when your brother died, leaving you the heir to your family's fortune. 
You didn’t realise how long you were sitting on the sill until a soft pair of lips pressed to your forehead. Your eyes shifted from the freshly fallen snow to the alluring blue of your husband's eye, the eyes that had only been for Lucille all this time. 
“How long?” you whispered, feeling your husband falter in his stance, staring at you with a look of confusion.
“How long, what, my darling?” Thomas whispered, sitting on the sill in front of you, a frown playing at his lips when he saw how distraught you looked and he noted how you looked as if you hadn’t gotten a speck of sleep last night. 
You scoffed and looked back out of the window to the fallen snow, wishing you were as free as the snowflakes elegantly falling from the clouds. Instead, you felt like a wealthy caged bird inside the crumbling mansion belonging to your husband and his sister/mistress. “How long have you been fucking Lucille, Thomas?” you spat, meeting his gaze head on and you watched his eyes widen comically and his breath hitch, “how long?!”
Thomas released a breathy chuckle and stood from the sill, knowing you still had your eyes on him as he walked to his wardrobe and pulled out the day’s outfit. “I have no idea what you are talking about, dearest, Lucille is my sister,” the Baronet returned eventually, buttoning his shirt and looking over at you, registering the cold look in your eye and flinching away from it.
“Don’t play with pretty words, Baronet,” you sneered, rising from your seat and ignoring the ache in your rear from sitting as you approached your cheater of a husband, “I saw you in the early hours of this morning, her hand down your pants, you openly appreciating her neck. Don’t bullshit me, Thomas.”
“Such words, my love!” Thomas protested, his brows furrowing with worry.
“The Gods will pardon my words to you, husband! Avoiding my question will only prolong my blasphemy! Admit it and God shall forgive,” you countered, your arms crossing over your nightgown as you held his gaze. You weren’t afraid of the man before you even though you knew he had the power to kill you with his bare hands.
Thomas lowered his head and sighed, tears forming in his oceanic eyes as he whispered, “since I was young.”
The words struck you immediately and you stared at your husband incredulously, “since… since you were how young, Thomas?”
“Since I was a boy,” the Baronet whispered, raising his head to meet yours as his eyes glimmered with confusion, “don’t tell me you and your brother didn’t…”
You realised his implication and you were sickened by it. Not him, never him, but you were sickened of Lucille for manipulating the Baronet into thinking that incest was the done thing when children were young. “God no!” you protested quickly, watching Thomas’s eyes widen in surprise, “that is wrong, Thomas, sex between siblings is so very wrong indeed!”
“But… Lucille said…” Thomas trailed off, his eyes becoming distant as tears formed again and dripped down his cheeks. “Lucille said that it was how I showed my love for her,” he whispered at last, watching your face fall.
You stepped closer to your husband and cupped his cheek, watching him instantly lean into the warmth of your palm. “This is love,” you whispered, watching as his eyes struggled to meet your own, “my love for you is the real love here. Lucille was manipulating you for her own gain. If she slept with you, lost her flower then she would never have to marry.”
Thomas tensed and shook his head quickly as tears brimmed in his beautiful eyes. You hated watching him cry. He rarely did but after a night of running experiments on his machine and failing to get it running, he would seek you out and rant until he was in tears. In a reflex that you knew you would never get rid of, you reached up and wiped away his tears, watching the muscles in his face relax as he leaned into the contact. 
“What you have with her isn’t love,” you whispered, watching Thomas’s eyes flutter open to meet yours. You offered him a soft smile as you edged him backwards to the bed and smiled as he fell back onto the sheets, his eyes never leaving your own. “Let me show you what love is,” you pleaded, noticing how his breath hitched and felt as his cock took an interest.
You leaned your body down and began to pepper kisses down from behind his ear to the top of his half-buttoned shirt. The chest hair that was visible teased your lips as you pulled away.
“This isn’t love, either,” Thomas whispered, a frown playing on his thin lip.
“How can you be sure?” you whispered, your hand grazing over his trousers just enough for him to hiss from the contact. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me?” you questioned, fully prepared for his rejection. He loved Lucille. This was never to be.
Thomas hesitated before bringing your face to his gently and pressing a loving kiss to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed and he followed quickly after. You quickly unbuttoned his shirt, your hands roaming over his chest and down his abdomen as you sat on his hips. The kiss was passionate and full of lust, unlike the sparse and quick pecks that he had given to you before. 
Thomas was breathless beneath you as you both devoured the taste of each other. You had missed feeling this electric excitement when you were near him, he had been so distant lately that you felt as if you would soon fall out of love with him too. You pulled away from his lips and whispered a faint, “please don’t divorce me.”
Thomas’s eyes slowly opened and met your own quickly in confusion. “Divorce you?” he whispered brokenly, his soft hands climbing up your thighs on either side of his lap, “why, by God, would I do that?”
“To resume your tryst with Lucille,” you replied simply, disgust lacing your tone as you spoke but you watched as Thomas quickly shook his head and captured your lips in his again. This kiss was slow, trusting and understanding. Thomas needed you to know that he loved you, depended on your love for him, obsessed over seeing your smile, needy to feel your bare skin against his own.
“No,” he murmured against your lips, his hands continuing their journey exploring your clothed body before he pulled the sleeping gown from your body and admired the body beneath. “No, I would never continue my tryst with Lucille,” he continued, his eyes locked with yours as his hands hesitantly explored, “not after you have opened my eyes.”
The Baronet’s hands held your waist and flipped you over onto the mattress, his strong body leaning over you as he heaved breaths, his pupils dilated and the evident arousal pressing against his trousers. “I crave you, sweet one,” Thomas whispered, one of his hands roaming over your body, cupping your breast and gently playing with one of your nipples with his thumb, “I crave to know how it feels to bring you into womanhood, to watch your face contort in such beautiful expressions of pleasure, to hear you scream to Heaven above that I am your husband, that I am yours, as I always should have been.”
You nodded eagerly and he smirked as he lowered his lips onto yours once more. You sighed between his lips and bit back playfully, your chest pressing up against his own, now naked, torso. Your fingers slithered up the sides of his neck and your nails wrapped themselves in the beautiful curls that surrounded his head like a halo. You pulled away for breath but didn’t let anything more than a second pass before you captured his lips again, one of your hands disentangling from his hair to slide down to his trousers, aiding him in pulling them off. 
Thomas groaned against your lips as he was now freed from the confinement of his pants. His hardened length was already swollen and red, greedily anticipating breaching you and claiming you. Before you could pull him closer, Thomas pulled himself from you and smirked as he whispered, “allow me to do something for us both, darling.”
You nodded shakily and watched as he left the bed, grabbed a cloth and covered the door handle and keyhole with it, nodding with satisfaction to himself before returning to you. Once he was back on top of you, he grabbed one of your legs and began to press open-mouthed kisses to your bare skin and he revelled in the way that you whined and arched up for him. He was so patient, so gentle, sucking marks into your skin all over and allowing you to feel so perfect.
“Are you ready?” he whispered gently, watching as your eyes met his and you nodded eagerly, your eyes fluttering shut when Thomas’s lips met yours. You had almost forgotten what was happening before you felt the hot tip of his cock press against your entrance and you whined into the kiss but Thomas pulled from your lips and pressed gentle kisses down your neck as he whispered, “it’s okay, I have you, baby,” and his cock gradually slipped inside. 
Once he was fully seated inside you, Thomas threw his head back in pleasure and released a throaty groan. He wasn’t surprised at your tightness, he fully enjoyed your nervous whimper and gasps, craving for him to move with half of your body but the other half needed a wait. Thomas slowly eased out of you and kissed away the pained expression that drew your brow together before he slowly thrust forward and savoured your pleasure-filled moan.
Minutes passed with him performing these small motions, of you keening beneath him and your legs beginning to wrap around his middle before you were ready and his thrusts increased. 
The feeling of his cock slowly increasing in speed made your heart flutter and electricity run throughout your body. You had needed this ever since you had first signed that marriage certificate. 
“Thomas,” you whined against him as the raven-haired Baronet cradled your head and his hips increased in their speed, his cock continuing to fuck you so deliciously well. He felt so perfect inside you and you knew that you needed this immediately, you couldn’t go another day without this. “I love you, mmnn, I love you, husband,” you whispered, feeling his cock twitch inside you at your confession.
Thomas pulled back and studied your eyes, trying to find the lie but when he found nothing but love, trust and lust, he smiled and pressed his lips quickly to yours before pulling back and whispering, “I love you too.”
Groaning, he pulled out to the tip before sinking back in and listening to your delighted moan at the motion so he proceeded to do it again and again, increasing the pace until he was pounding into you and bringing out feral moans from the back of your throat.
Your hands left his hair to grip at the sheets beside your head as your filter for noise was destroyed by the intoxicating feel of his cock bruising your insides repeatedly. The Baronet had to be carved by a sulptor, you thought as pleasure filled your mind, he was covered with a thin sheen of sweat and yet he still looked utterly handsome. 
Thomas’s hand fell to your eager clit and began to massage it slowly before gradually matching the pace to his thrusts, pushing you over the edge into utter oblivion. He didn’t leave you waiting long, however, as he came quickly behind you and moaned your name into the quiet air of the grand bedroom. 
Silence reigned in the room as you both came down from your highs and as Thomas cleaned you up, pressing light kisses to your legs as he cleaned your cunt of any of his seed that leaked out and your natural juices. 
When Thomas finally slipped into bed minutes later, you rolled over and draped your arm over his chest, your head fitting snugly in the crook of his neck. The sound of his heart pounding below his skin was oddly comforting and reassured you that he was your husband and you were his wife. 
“Thomas?” you whispered into the dark, earning a drowsy hum in reply, “what do we do about your sister?”
“What do you mean?” Thomas asked, his head shifting so he could easily look down at your head on his shoulder.
Your cheeks flushed and you looked away from him, “well, she probably heard all of this, what do we do?”
“I don’t care,” Thomas replied, pulling you into another soft kiss before rolling on top of you and claiming your lips. 
You eagerly accepted his kiss before his hand began to slip between your legs and you pulled away with a laugh, “Thomas, we just got clean!”
“Then I shall clean you again and again, my love, you shall never feel deprived of my love,” Thomas answered smugly, spreading kisses down your neck that turned your laughter into moans.
Just outside the door, Lucille Sharpe had planned 14,785,435 ways to kill you for stealing Thomas from her.
~~~~~~~~~~~
@lokisgoodgirl
@lokisninerealms
@evelyn-kingsley
@slpnbty2001
@jennyggggrrr
@hahaha12123445
@ozymdias
@holdmytesseract
@itsybitchylittlewitchy
@lovingchoices14
@xorpsbane
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hockeyandhrsepwr · 1 year
Text
Some Pre Abu Dhabi Chaos
Je T'aime series
Jack Hughes x F1 driver reader
**series is set in 2024 & Danny, Seb & mick are still on the grid**
yourusername
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Liked by lanceStroll, ScuderiaFerrari & others
yourusername Its Abu Dhabi time. You know what that means #onemoretime #thanksforthememoriess
view all comments
CharlesLeclerc why must you do this to us.
Yourusername because I can
LandoNorris I hate it thanks
Yourusername youre welcome babe
LanceStroll must we do this every year?
yourusername thank you so much for your question. Yes
LanceStroll JackHughes I blame you for this
JackHughes What did I do? She was like this before me. I blame thombordeleau_
yourusername feeling the love
Thombordeleau_ if anything its Ferrarris fault for letting her control her own socials
ScuderiaFerrari Dont blame us!
GinaSchumacher I will pay you everything in my bank account for all of the photos you have of Mick like this
yourusername Oh, I'll share them for free babe. Are we thinking just last year or....
MickSchumacher I will disown both of you
Yourusename please, you can't get rid of me. I'm like a weed
JackHughes did you just refer to yourself as a weed?
yourusername and what if I did?
user123 Alsonso is me in that pic
LewisHamilton Leave me alone!!
yourusername no 😙
carlosSainz55 I hate you
yourusername those glasses make you faster?
Yourusername cause I always see you in my mirror
CharlesLeclerc behind like a loser
ArthurLeclerc you're one to talk big brother
CharlesLeclerc Ferme ta bouche petit merde.
thombordeleau_ how do you get these photos?
yourusername I have my ways
MickSchumacher How about you share the ones you have of him next time?
Yourusername Thats a great idea Mickolas, thanks for the suggestion
thombordeleau_ Watch yourself Mick.
JackHughes don't do it babe
Yourusername Please hold
EstebanOcon you're my favourite rn. Thanks for not including me
yourusername Don't tell Mickey Mouse but you're my favourite too
mickschumacher don't tell mick what? 🤨
Fan133 Mickey Mouse 😭
Fan565 Queen behaviour
fan5758 Oh my god I love you so much
Fan532 askdehe so many thoughts
fan2049 I am not thinking impure thoughts. I am not!
fan22 the FOB reference? I see you
yourusername Thank you! someone who got it
fan22 OMG I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOURE GOING TO WIN!!
PierreGasly You're learning well
Yourusername don't act like youre better than me at dumping
PierreGasly I dont know how to respond to that
yourusername yeah cause you only take Ls (see your picture)
YourUsername
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Yourusername The grids going to be a bit less fun without you two next year
Danny, youre the big brother I never wanted but got anyway. Glad to have shared a track with you for this long, you high performance athlete that sweats (kiki-rara)
Seb, I can't put into words how much you've done for me. I love you so much please dont leave (Danke)
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DanielRiccardo where are these photos coming from. I love you too champ 🥲
Yourusername See you in Melbourne? 
DanielRiccardo You bet your sweet ass you will
SebastianVettel Youre going to go so far, only just getting started. I'm glad we had those years at Ferrari together & I can't wait to see what else you do (but I’m leaving)
Yourusername stop it Seb, I can't cry again
SebastianVettel Now go & Win it!!
yourusername I'll do it for you<3
Charlesleclerc We'll miss you!
EstebanOcon Thanks for everything!
LandoNorris an icon
LanceStroll a great teammate
YukiTsunoda a mentor to all
yoruusername can y'all not make you own posts? stop hijacking mine
NicoHischer You’re the greatest driver ever Sebastian
SebastianVettel thank you! Y/n tells me youre a good hockey player
Yourusername why’d you have to tell him that? His heads already too big
NicoHischier you talk to Seb about me? 
Yourusername You were mentioned a few times
SebastianVettel I’d like to meet you if you’re in Switzerland over the summer!
NJDevils what did you do to our captain?
Yourusername why👀
JackHughes he just passed out in the middle of the locker room
Yourusername You have got to be joking 
comments restricted 
Yourusername
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Liked by Jackhughes, Charlesleclerc & others
Yourusername y’all can thank mick for this one. Good luck in your games tonight/tomorrow boys!
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thombordeleau_ hey MickSchumacher 🖕
MickSchumacher Right back atcha bud 
_quinnhughes Mom & I are going to have a talk about you getting that photo
yourusername you leave my queen Ellen alone!!
_quinnhughes she's my mother!
yourusername yet she loves me more
Elblue6 I have no favourites
_alexturcotte uh huh sure
Elblue6 Are you sassing me Alex?
_alexturcotte absolutely not queen Ellen 
Lhughes_06 could've been worse
yourusername Thank you moose. they just dont get it
lhughes_06 oh I still hate it
yourusername I know!
JackHughes hey, babe, love of my life, my everything, take down the Gato one
Yourusername but you look so awkward in it!
nicohischier I can see the sniper dot on his chest
dawson1417 Say goodbye Y/n. Biosteel's coming for him
jesperbratt I can hear the gunshots
yourusername do you have to be so dramatic?
JackHughes sorry Jack can’t come to the comments. He’s dead - N
Yourusername Put my husband on Nico
JackHughes I love it when you call me that
Dawson1417 stop being sappy
nblanks98 jimmy.lambert looking good in that last pic
jimmy.lambert damn right I do
TrevorZegras  Cole got a feature but I didnt? 
yourusername he’s not as annoying as you (sometimes)
Edwards.73 OMG I’m on the official insta, mom im famous!
Dylanduke.25 pipe down buddy, its the back of you head.
Markestapa more than you appear dyl 
CharlesLeclerc oh, these are so much worse than ours
carlossainz55 you know she'll take that as a challenge
LandoNorris I wouldn't be surprised
yourusername well you'll have to wait & see
Mackie.samo not the WAP #neverforget
plapointe_22 I wish I could forget 
lhughes_06 we all do
fan727 oh my god I need more!
user09 so many questions
user93 I get more invested in this relationship & friendship every day
ColeCaufield Thats my bad side!
Yourusername you have a good one?
NSuzuki_37 👆
jacob_trusscott20 you’re welcome for some of these
Yourusername Thanks Jacob! I’ve been holding on to them for a while & they finally came in handy 
jacob_trusscott20 happy to help my favourite Canadian 
thombordeleau_ the fuck did you just say?
jacob_trusscott20 nothing honey
thombordeleau_ youre sleeping on the couch tonight
Yourusername ooooh big threat **jazz hands**
brendanBrisson did you just 👐
Yourusername there’s no emoji for it Brendan 🙄 I needed to get my point across (those aren't jazz hands you loser)
xxx
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Text
Last Updated: 2024-03-05
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Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Sir Thomas Sharpe stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.
Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning
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❆ Christmas at Allerdale Hall by sserpente • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "Imagine spending Christmas with Thomas Sharpe at Allerdale Hall, while the Baronet is determined to make the holiday special for you, Lucille cannot be more cross with [you for celebrating the holidays]."
❆ Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas by just-the-hiddles • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "Your sister and children have come for the holidays to Allerdale Hall but all is not merry and bright."
❆ London Blizzard by sserpente • 〔F〕 •
Summary: "Imagine getting stuck in [London due to] a blizzard with Thomas Sharpe over Christmas."
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❆ A Special Present by ladyfluff • 〔C〕 • ♡ • 𑁍 •
❆ Chilly by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
❆ Darling, You Shouldn't Have by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
❆ Mistletoe Kiss by sserpente • 〔F〕 •
❆ Snow Day by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
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See Also: Navigation || Thomas Sharpe Master Index
Authors: @just-the-hiddles || @ladyfluff || @sserpente ||
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