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andsheloved · 2 years

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𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔

pairing ~ sir thomas sharpe x f!reader

word count ~ 1.3k

summary ~ when your own mind seems shattered, you're reminded of who will always be there to pick up the pieces.

warnings ~ plotless, pointless fluff, mention of nightmares/past traumatic experiences (nothing specific is mentioned), brief mention of death, implied insomnia, everyone needs to get some sleep.

a/n ~ this isn't the best thing i've written but my brain !! needed this !! let this be my little lullaby goodnight gift to you, and please enjoy some comforting thomas sharpe regardless mwauh :)

You could compare the feeling to something like falling, even if it really felt nothing like that. It wasn't that weightless, somewhat pleasant feeling one would get when drifting back into their own reality. It felt like death.

And in a way, maybe it was.

Even in your dreams, you could feel yourself falling back into the clutches of that endless cycle you couldn't seem to break, even while you attempted to find some sort of reprieve from your own mind in sleep, you still found yourself tormented, cursed with the ability of remembering.

You jolted awake, and suddenly you could feel your body once again, sensing how your chest rose and fell at a speed that, you had to admit, even worried yourself. You winced at the overwhelming buzzing that rang through your mind as you attempted to bring yourself back to the reality you found yourself paralyzed in, the only thing of warmth you could sense were the tears creeping down your face, stinging your eyes and reminding you of your own mortality.

"Dearest..." You could hear his voice, and although it was barely above a whisper to your ears, it felt like a tether, a life raft being thrown to you.

And so you reached for it, searching for the hushed flickers of his loving tone as you cut through the wicked, twisted vines that kept you from him, trying to return yourself to at least something akin to a resting state.

"You're alright..." You could hear him murmur, the feeling of his soft lips against the shell of your ear finally reaching your senses. "I'm here. I promise... You're safe..."

You felt a pain in your throat, as if being suffocated by your own anguish. The sensation was one of a monster in your chest, scratching and clawing against your insides, begging to be released in some sort of carnal, ferociously pained scream, though your lips remained sealed, or at least partially sealed. All that could escape your lips was a single, wounded sigh.

"Thomas..." You breathed, your trembling hand barely shifting, grasping for any part of him that you could hang on to.

"I'm right here."

His smooth voice only got clearer with each passing second, the feeling of his thumb gently brushing across your knuckles anchoring you to reality.

"I'm right here..." He continued to repeat, the gentle cadence of his words lulling your heartbeat until you began to feel some semblance of peace. "I'm right here."

Even as your mind settled, as your body began to no longer feel as if you had just ran some sort of harrowing marathon, you could still barely manage to say a word, so an almost silent whimper was all that escaped you.

And yet, even without a word uttered, he still managed to understand you.

Just as he always did.

His arms seemed to wrap around you in an instant, enveloping you into the warmth that you always seemed to find yourself longing for these days. Your heart stilled, finally at peace.

"Was it-"

You solemnly nodded before he could even finish, your chin gently nuzzling against his bicep as you did.

"Well..." He groaned softly, adjusting himself against you as he tenderly pulled you flush against his firm chest, prompting you to finally turn your head to face him. "You're safe now. Nothing can hurt you. Nothing could ever."

You swallowed harshly, your mind briefly returning to your previous state.

If it were anyone else, you might have even dared to accuse them of witchcraft, but it was Thomas. Your Thomas. And he knew you in a way you couldn't even comprehend yourself. It was as if he could read your mind, his thumb and forefinger finding their way to your chin, his touch shackling you once again to him.

He let out a gentle chuckle, "Don't leave me," He smiled, "Not when I've just gotten you back."

This time, you had managed to squeak out a few words in response. "Thank you."

You watched as his eyes softened, his eyebrows falling into an expression of slight concern. "You've nothing to thank me for." He grumbled, you noticed how his cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink as he spoke, this fact illuminated only by the dull slivers of moonlight that crept in from the window. "It's my honor."

Before you could stop it, a small chuckle left your lips, almost forgetting your situation entirely. "Honored?" You questioned softly. You couldn't even manage yourself half of the time, how could anyone feel any sort of honored to pick up after you?

His brows furrowed, a small, almost frustrated sounding huff came from him before he began to speak. "The first time..." He mumbled, trailing off for a moment, though you already knew what he was trying to say.

When the nightmares began.

"You could have turned from me," He continued, gently tracing his thumb against your cheek, "Pushed me from you entirely. Told me to leave you even." He smiled wistfully, "You didn't though. You allowed me to stay, to hold you, to promise that you were safe, that I would always protect you. You bestowed me with that honor, and it is not one that I take lightly." He finished, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

If you knew any better, you could have easily begun believing that he carried some sort of magic within him, your eyes gently drooping closed as soon as his lips touched your skin. Though maybe that was the magic of him, how he could calm your mind so easily.

The deep, quietly thunderous hum that rolled through him reached your ears like a lullaby, and you could feel his lips curl into a soft smile against your forehead.

There were a million words caught in your throat. Thousands of 'how could I ever live without you', hundreds of 'thank you's' and countless 'I love you's' begging to be ripped from your lips, and just as it was all about to come pouring out at once, as you began to acknowledge the fact that once you began speaking, you would certainly be awake until the morning, it seemed that he read your mind, silencing your thoughts at once.

"Get some rest, love, we can speak of everything in the morning if you'd like." He paused for a moment as he pulled at the heavy, quilted blanket engulfing you both, "Even if you choose not to, I'll be right beside you... Always."

His words faded as you drifted closer to the edge of exhaustion. You knew of the possibility of another nightmare, the lingering possibility of those all too familiar tendrils of pain and horror stained pieces of your imagination reaching out for you once again tonight, but somehow, you held no fear.

The heat of his body flooded your senses as you finally fell asleep, his final words somehow even reaching you in your unconsciousness, or maybe they weren't even his words, at least not in the current sense. Maybe they were just the words he had ingrained in you ever since the first time he told you that he loved you, the words that wrapped around you, filling you with light in any moment you felt surrounded by darkness. Maybe he hadn’t even uttered a thing, maybe it was just your own mind, comforting your soul with the voice of him as you fell into sleep.

Either way, you found you didn’t mind, all you cared for was that his voice was with you, guiding you through whatever darkness you may happen to encounter the rest of the night.

You could hear him as your breath evened and your pulse slowed, feeling him hold your hand through the pitch blackness. Even as your own mind attempted to betray you, taunting you with memories of pain you couldn’t seem to outrun, you could hear him.

“I’m here my dear, I always will be.”

fall-ish time = crimson peak time always for me. i know it has been a while and this isn't a huge fic or anything, but i've been writing this one on and off since things got a bit weird for me mentally, i just needed some pointless, fluffy, reassurance for my brain being weird, and hey if it came from thomas sharpe that wouldn't be too bad either :) i hope you all are doing so so good and thank you all for all your nice messages recently, i promise i will respond to all of them so soon!!

check out my masterlist :)

#thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x female reader #thomas sharpe x f!reader #thomas sharpe x fem!reader #thomas sharpe comfort #thomas sharpe fluff #tom hiddleston x you #thomas sharpe x you #thomas sharpe x y/n #no use of y/n #tom hiddleston x fem!reader #tom hiddleston imagine #crimson peak fan fiction #crimson peak x reader #crimson peak #tom hiddleston x f!reader #tom hiddleston character x reader #thomas sharpe reader insert

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colorsunimaginable · 1 year

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Buried - Crimson Peak Drabble

Characters: Thomas Sharpe x reader, Thomas Sharpe x you

Word Count: 599

Warnings: blood

A/N: This is for @the-slumberparty's Warm-Up: One Word Drabble. The word I got was 'dig'. I'd just finished the movie for like the millionth time, and this is was word vomited onto the page.

Any feedback would be welcome as I haven't really written little things like this in a really long time. Likes and reblogs are also appreciated, thank you!

~*~

The cold bit at Thomas' cheeks as he ground the shovel into the wet, red earth. He stood in the hole he'd dug, almost sinking in like the crooked headstones of his long-dead family surrounding him. The last time he'd been in this tiny plot of land was for his father's funeral. He hadn't been allowed to attend to his mother's.

The wind howled in his ears as it whipped across the white barren hill, smothering the noise of the wet clay where it landed beside him. His heart pounded and his chest gasped for air as he dug.

This was his first time digging a grave. Despite being married to them, he'd never thought to bury his wives here. She had always taken care of the body. Shame was never something that crossed her mind. Or regret.

Stopping to catch his breath, his eyes were drawn to the wheel-barrel just outside the wrought-iron fence. He forced himself to look at her, to take in the familiar nightgown and robe spilling over the edge. He would not close his eyes this time.

A small figure drew closer from Allerdale Hall. Dressed in your mustard yellow house coat, he could spot a basket and something wooden in your arms. A cross. He continued to dig while he waited for you to arrive.

"Hello," you said, placing the basket down by the gate and pulling a gardening trowel from it. He paused to watch you dig a hole big enough for the stake end of the cross.

"Do you think she deserves that?" Thomas asked.

"I'm not doing this for her," you said. "This is for you."

"For me?"

"So you can bury the horrors without forgetting them. She won't disappear into the scenery, but you can start anew." When you looked up at him, you gave him a gentle smile that filled him with something other than shame. Hope.

Hope for a life different than from the one he'd known. A life only filled with love. No more secrets. No more lies and deceit. There would be no more room for this decaying house in his heart. The burden will be buried with her.

Together the both of you dragged Lucille across the snow, her long dark hair matted with dried blood and red clay. With a handkerchief, he wiped blood from her temple, and folded her hands together over her middle.

"Do you want to say anything?" you asked him.

"No." There was nothing he had to say. Not to her.

Thomas grabbed the shovel and began covering Lucille. He made sure his eyes found her face every time he turned to plop another mound of dirt and clay. He wasn't only burying her and the memories and the horror, but who he was with her, who he was for her. The monster she'd encouraged him to be.

When the monster was finally buried, you appeared at his side with a steaming metal cup of tea.

"This isn't the Firethorn berries, is it?" he asked, warily taking the warm up.

You shook your head and took a sip from the thermos. "Strawberry Hibiscus. I bought it at the depot, remember?"

With his eyes on you, he brought it to his lips. The red liquid was sweet, unlike the bitter Firethorn. You'd added the luxury of sugar and dried lemon.

It was an unintentional representation of the new life you'd start together. The new man that Thomas wanted to be for you. The new man that he will be, now that the monster is dead and buried.

#the slumber party #navy and roo sleepover #writing event #writer event #crimson peak #lucille sharpe #thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x you #crimson peak drabble #colorsunimaginable

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demigoddessqueens · 2 years

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Ep 4 reminded me of a certain other TH period drama character

#tvedit #filmedit #perioddramaedit #Tom hiddleston #will ransome x you #will ransome x reader #will ransome x y/n #will ransome #crimson peak #the essex serpent #sir thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x you #Thomas sharpe x y/n #filmgifs #gifs #moviegifs #filmtv

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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.

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."

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."

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.

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

#sir thomas sharpe #Sir thomas sharpe x you #reader x thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe x reader #crimson peak fanfiction #enjoy the romance #sweet fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader

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lulubelle814 · 10 days

Text

In Every Life

Summary: Two souls destined for each other, but life has other plans. Will they find each other and have their happy ending?

Part 1 - Thomas Sharpe x Josephine Morrow

Part 2 - Capt James Nicholls x Grace Narracott

Part 3 - Robert Laing x Valerie Hutton

Part 4

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lady-rose-moon · 2 years

Text

You were him?

Summary: being an Asgardian had its perks but after being banished in the late 19th century with no memory of who you were, you married a Baronet. But who was he really?

Warnings: mentions of attempted suicide

A/N: the description for the apartment on the helecarrier is from the avengers game. Y/B/F/N means your best friend's name.

Part One ~ Part Two ~ Part Three

"I will come back for you," the voice echoed in the air as you panted heavily, shovel still in hand and watching the ghost of your late husband disappear in the wind. Lip trembling, you dropped to your knees and clasped your hands over your heart as you released a heartbroken wail. You were alone again. Thomas was dead.

You woke from your nightmare with a yell, clutching your heart and sobbing anew. It was 2012 now, Thomas was long since dead. Twenty years after the events of Crimson Peak, you discovered that you did not look any younger but you had wanted to join Thomas wherever he was so you watched the blood flow freely from the lashes in your arms but all you got was the slamming of memories into your brain.

You were Aesir, a noblewoman but not high enough to be in the royal circle, you were banished for learning seiðr way above what you were meant to. King Odin saw it as a threat and so, banished you to Midgard as a babe for you to live a "normal" life. You didn't deserve banishment but seiðr was commonly seen as a housewife tool, women were taught the bare minimum of seiðr so that they would be able to do normal tasks with it but you wanted more.

You grew up in a small city that had everything you needed, your father was doting and understanding of your thirst for knowledge even if this was around the time when that was seen as taboo. You then decided that you needed to create stories that have not been written yet, stories that will captivate the people and make them have such a thirst for literature that you had developed.

Then you met him. Sir Thomas Sharpe, Baronet. He had read some of the novel you had finally completed and complimented it. Actually complimented it! You hadn't expected anyone to truly enjoy what you wrote, not after it had been rejected. He was stunning, honestly, and his ambition for his work made you smile dumbly as he explained it to the old businessmen of your town.

You married him and moved to his home in England, a fixer-upper mansion that was practically withering away with time. Still, you stayed and boy did you regret it. You uncovered dark secrets in that house, along with the fact that Thomas's sister, Lucille, was poisoning you. And she was sleeping with your husband, her own brother!

You pushed away the memories of Thomas's last moments with you as you sighed, pushing off the bed and heading into the kitchen of your apartment. The image you saw of him after you had finally gotten rid of Lucille, a white ghost with such a sad look on his face, broke your heart. Still, you guessed that your love wasn't meant to be and you continued.

You used your seiðr to grab the cereal box off the top shelf and grinned as you poured it into a bowl quickly followed by the milk. Unconsciously, you turned on the TV and a news bulletin sounded throughout the apartment.

"A large facility collapsed this morning, witnesses warn the public to be on the lookout for a man holding a golden sceptre. Calls himself Loki of Asgard."

You almost dropped your bowl as you heard the name and your head whipped around to look at the TV in shock before finishing up your breakfast and turning it off. So, Prince Loki had come down to Midgard? Why?

You put the bowl in the sink and your seiðr washed over you to change your pyjamas into a business-appropriate outfit before leaving your apartment to head to your job. Your hand instinctively clutched at your old wedding ring attached to a chain around your neck. It wasn't exactly the best ring, having a horrid past linked to it but Thomas had given it to you and you would love it just for that reason.

"Miss Y/L/N," came a voice from behind you as you got to your desk and you turned around to smile at your boss politely. He wasn't the best man but he employed you despite not having a proper modern education but you had proven to him time and time that you were capable of the job, "I have asked around and no one had the time so I was wondering if you could stay overtime tonight?"

You nodded and shrugged, "I have no plans tonight anyway, sir, I would be happy to. Just don't abuse this one time."

The day dragged on and through your overtime, you had gotten some calls from a blocked number and chose to just ignore it. You were curious why they were so persistent but you didn't want it to be a scam call or some predictable shit like that.

As you pushed out the doors, ready to get home and enjoy a nice bowl of ice cream and illusions of your short life with your husband. Moving back to America was the best choice. You didn't like Allerdale Hall but were saddened when you returned for a visit only to find it completely decrepit and sunk beyond saving into the clay. Absently, you felt remorse for not trying to save Thomas's only home but you decided that it was for its own good.

"Y/N Y/L/N," you froze at the sound of a voice behind you and you turned to see a man in an eyepatch glaring at you and you gulped, "we need you to come with us."

You tilted your head curiously as you stared at the men in front of you, "I'm sorry, I don't think I have done something to earn such a big party coming to collect me for something."

"That's the thing, Miss Y/N," the man with the eyepatch spoke, "we have a matter regarding your home that we need your help with."

"My home?" You asked with a tilt of the head before one of the men grabbed your arm and you gasped, "hey, be a bit more gentle! I'm cooperating, aren't I?"

Turning to the first man that spoke, you schooled your expression and smiled gently, "my home is here, sir, or on a sunken plot of land in England."

The man's lip quirked up into a smirk before handing you a file, "we need your skills against someone that just appeared through an unintentional doorway into space."

Your brow raised in curiosity before opening the file and feeling your heart race in familiarity of the photo. This man resembled your late husband but you couldn't let this man know that you knew this man's face.

"Looks unhinged," you mumbled, palming through the rest of the hurried assessments of this man, "did he give a name?"

"Called himself Loki of Asgard, does that name ring familiar to you? You are Asgardian, aren't you?" the man asked and you shrugged with a small sigh.

You handed the file back to the man and grabbed your coat, "he is the second son of King Odin and Queen Frigga. He is Prince Loki of Asgard. I wonder why he is here."

After that, you allowed them to escort you out of your apartment, smiling at your neighbour as you passed. You were helped into the back of a black van and you looked at the others in there with you, four agents and the man from before.

"If you don't mind me asking," you broke the silence politely, addressing the man who had done most of the talking, "what is your name?"

"Fury. Director Fury," the man responded, resolving to look out of the nearest window to avoid making conversation with you again.

After getting to an airfield, you were moved into a jet and brought to the biggest plane carrier that you had ever seen in the middle of the ocean. Once you landed, you nodded to Director Fury and then started to walk around the landing strip of the carrier. Everything still fascinated you so you snapped a photo and smiled down at it, saving it to your notes and writing underneath it.

Dear Thomas,

You would be so fascinated with how technology has advanced. I can imagine your blueprints now.

Yours,

Y/N ~ <3

"Writing to a lover?" came a voice from behind you and you turned around quickly to see a woman with fiery red hair and you grinned, holding up your phone nervously.

"A late husband, actually," you smiled and watched her smile form but you quickly shook your head, "he died before his time but he did it to save me. I no longer feel lasting sadness over his death."

The woman nodded and held out her hand to you, "I'm Natasha Romanoff, it seems that we are going to be working together."

You nodded slightly and shook her hand, "my name is Y/N Y/L/N, it's nice to meet you, Miss Romanoff."

Natasha guided you inside and to the carrier's living area. Once you both were standing in front of a door, Natasha showed you how to open the door and you followed suit, scanning your hand so the carrier knew it opened to you. Walking inside, you smiled at the double bed, desk and door leading to an en suite.

"Impressive," you whispered, watching Natasha smile and you walked around the space before grinning at the redhead, departing from the rooms and heading into the control room, seeing them searching for any signs of Prince Loki.

You knew that you would be here for a while so you resolved to sit beside an agent and look at the footage that they were analysing. You knew that they wouldn't find the Prince if he didn't want to be found, he could avoid even Heimdall's gaze! You walked away from the monitors and over to the large windows. You closed your eyes and your heart brought you back to the worst day of your life.

You watched as Thomas came out of the rickety lift and you held the pen out to him, "you! You don't come near me!"

Thomas held up his hands to show that he meant no harm as he watched you with a heartbroken expression, "Listen to me, please!" he begged, his hands shaking.

"You get away!" you tugged and screamed against your husband as you sobbed.

"Y/N, please," Thomas pressed, desperately trying to get you to listen, "listen! Y/B/F/N is still alive! They are still alive!"

"You lied to me!" you sobbed.

"I did."

"You poisoned me!"

"I... I did."

"You told me you loved me!"

Thomas pulled you close to him and looked into your eyes desperately, "I do! Y/N please, one last time, trust me one last time! You can leave if you want or you can wait here for me! I'm going to get those papers back... I will fix this..."

Thomas was about to walk away but you called out to him, "Thomas!" and he turned on his heel, looking at you timidly before melting when you hugged him and kissed his chest, "come back safe, husband, and I will forgive you."

Thomas nodded, pressed a kiss to your forehead and then departed down the corridor. Never to be seen again.

A hand pressed on your shoulder startled you out of your thoughts and you turned to see Natasha smiling at you, "You okay?"

You smiled at her question and nodded, patting her hand on your shoulder before noticing how dark it had gotten and excusing yourself to your bedroom.

Once inside your room and the door shut behind you, you lunged onto your bed and sobbed into your pillow, the wound now torn open again when you knew that Thomas wasn't coming back as Lucille stormed down the corridor, fully prepared to kill you. Absently, you pulled the pillow closer to you and whimpered into it.

The next day you walked out of your rooms and headed down to the labs to help Bruce Banner (who had arrived last night with Captain America). You didn't know what to do to help the scientist so you just took to keeping him company and asking him questions about anything but the Hulk.

You heard another jet arrive late that night and you were sipping a cup of coffee, looking in a magazine as a troop of soldiers brought a prisoner through the hallway past the lab. You saw the Prince of Asgard among them and your heart fell, his smirk entrancing you but it dropped with a kind of realisation as he took you in. As quick as he was there, he was guided on into the holding cell unit.

"So," Banner spoke up, his eyes locked on the final window where Loki had rounded a corner and disappeared from sight, "that was the crazy man we were searching for."

You nodded and downed your coffee before walking up to where Steve and Nat were sitting at a table, watching Fury handle Loki.

"I don't care about your glass cage," Loki sneered through the video and you watched with interest, "I will not speak to anyone but her."

"Unfortunately," Fury growled out, glaring at the Prince, "she is not talking to you. You will be kept here. Let us know if you need anything."

Loki turned to look at the cameras and smirked, a chill running down your spine as you realised he was intentionally looking right at you and he mouthed something to you, "come to me, now."

Pushing back your chair, you sighed and looked at the gathered team, "he wants me. I saw him being guided past the labs and he seemed to have a reaction to me. I should go and interrogate him."

Steve sighed and shook his head, "what if he was talking about Natasha? He spent all that time on the jet with Stark, Natasha, Thor and I so maybe he was talking about her?"

You smiled and shook your head, "Natasha isn't Asgardian, Captain. I'll be back."

The journey down to the holding cells didn't take too long and you sighed as you pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside. Immediately, Loki stood from the small seat at the back of the cell and smirked at you.

You walked closer to the glass, your magic conjuring up a holster and a handgun on your thigh as you glared at the Prince. Crossing your arms, you glared at him, "what do you want?"

"I wanted to see if I was right, miss," Loki smirked, taking a few steps closer to the glass and your heart raced in your chest, "tell me you recognise me."

"Should I know you as more than just my Prince, My Prince?" You asked, your posture tightening as Loki chuckled and shook his head.

The God stood and glared at you, tilting his head curiously, "why don't you take a look?"

That was all the warning you had before Loki's seiðr pulled you into his mind.

"The waltz," Thomas began, addressing everyone in the room, "not a complicated dance, really. The lady takes her place slightly to the left of the leading gentleman. Six basic steps and that's all," he takes a candle from the man carrying a candelabra and he turns to your best friend, "however, it is said that the true test of a perfect waltz is for it to be so swift, so delicate and so smooth that the candleflame will not be extinguished in the hands of the lead dancer, now that requires the perfect partner," he turns to you with a nervous look as he whispers "would you be mine?"

“I don’t think so…thank you…” you look up at him nervously before you look to your side then look back at him, “I’m sure Eunice would be delighted…” you look into his eyes, more nervous as to what he would say next.

"I daresay," he looks down into your eyes nervously, his heart racing as he waits for you, holding out his hand towards you as an offer, "but I have asked you"

You look up at him then down at his hand as you hesitantly take his hand and follow him to the center of the dance floor, looking extremely nervous as you glance around the room. Thomas gets into position in the centre of the room, holding the candle between your joined hands and he looks over at Lucille, who turns around to start playing the piano and he smiles down at you when he sees the nervousness, "I've always closed my eyes to things that made me uncomfortable... it makes everything easier..." he makes sure to keep eye contact with you as he spoke.

"I don't want to close my eyes," you whispered as you gazed up at him, "I want to keep them open."

You both danced around the room after that and the scene melted into another.

You walked down the aisle towards Thomas, your best friend by your side as you smiled at your fiancee despite your grief at your father being murdered. You knew that Thomas would take care of you. The ceremony was small but when you were officially Y/N Sharpe, you smiled and kissed your husband carelessly.

The scene melted into another and another until you got to the memory that haunted you.

You watched as Thomas came out of the rickety lift and you held the pen out to him, "you! You don't come near me!"

Thomas held up his hands to show that he meant no harm as he watched you with a heartbroken expression, "Listen to me, please!" he begged, his hands shaking.

"You get away!" you tugged and screamed against your husband as you sobbed.

"Y/N, please," Thomas pressed, desperately trying to get you to listen, "listen! Y/B/F/N is still alive! They are still alive!"

"You lied to me!" you sobbed.

"I did."

"You poisoned me!"

"I... I did."

"You told me you loved me!"

Thomas nodded, pressed a kiss to your forehead and then departed down the corridor. Never to be seen again.

The scene melted again and now you were standing with a shovel in hand as you glared at Lucille.

"I won't stop," Lucille breathed, "until you kill me or I kill you."

"You think this is what he would want?! Look at him! Look at what you did to him!" you yelled, staring at Thomas's ghost behind Lucille and you watched as the woman turned to her brother and sobbed. You took the opportunity and smashed Lucille's head in, killing her.

You gasped for air as you made your way to Thomas's ghost and you held a hand to his cheek as you sobbed, watching him lean into the touch before disappearing.

Wrenching yourself away from Loki's seiðr, you turned away from him in horror and your knees buckled beneath you but you grabbed a rail for support. Loki just stared at you brokenly, watching his once wife have to grieve him again.

Shaken, you turned to face the God again and stared at him in horror as the words left your lips, "you were Thomas..."

Loki wished that the glass didn't exist at that moment so he could catch you when you fell to your knees after he nodded to confirm your statement. The gut-wrenching wail that left her throat made him falter before he pressed a hand to the glass, "Y/N... come here, please..."

You got to your feet slowly and approached the glass, watching as he placed a hand there and you studied it keenly, remembering the rare nights where Thomas would sleep with you and you would study the beautiful prints on his fingers. They were exactly the same as your husband's.

"Thomas," you breathed against the glass and he sighed softly, resting his head against the glass.

"The Tesseract is heading to Stark Tower to open a portal to my army. There is a failsafe being built into the portal opening that Doctor Selvig doesn't know I know about. Hurry," Loki whispered and you nodded, looking at the camera and watching it flicker off.

You walked over to the control panel and opened the door to Loki's cell, meeting him by the door and squeaking when he engulfed you in his arms and you broke down then and there. You were so glad to be back with your husband again, your head resting comfortably against his chest.

"Step away from the Lady, brother," came a deep voice from behind you and you turned your head to see Thor glaring at Loki, pointing Mjolnir at the both of you.

You shook your head and pressed your head closer to Loki's armour with a broken sob, "please let him go. He helped you by giving you that information. Leave him be."

Loki tore his gaze from you long enough to gaze at Thor and he sighed, nuzzling your head before pulling you behind him. "I will not return to Asgard, Thor, I will serve any punishment that Odin gives to me here with my wife."

"Wife? Loki, you..." Thor trailed off as he took you in fully and his brows raised, "oh! That's Y/N! The one you fell in love with but didn't mean to!"

Loki snarled and held you closer to him, "this is my wife, Y/N Sharpe. Leave us be, Thor."

The God of Thunder stepped out of the way as Loki guided you out of the holding cell. When you saw that he was guiding you to the lab, you tensed but Loki easily shushed you and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

The arguing died when Loki stepped into the room and passed everyone to the sceptre. Staring down at the sceptre, he motioned for you to join him by his side and you did immediately.

"Focus," he whispered, his eyes closed with his hand over the sceptre and you closed your eyes too, channelling Loki's seiðr.

Once you both gained access to the sceptre, you worked on breaking every link and every brainwashed person that Loki had acquired. Once the job was done, you wilted and Loki caught you before picking up the sceptre and disappearing in a cloud of green.

Loki didn't take you to Allerdale as you had expected. Instead, he brought you to Norway, to a nice cabin in the mountains and he guided you inside.

You looked around in wonder at the small cabin, tiredly turning to look at him, "did you buy this place?"

Loki smiled sadly, green enveloping him and revealing him as Thomas Sharpe, his familiar ebony black curls and green eyes smiling back at you. He walked over to you and took you by the waist, guiding you into a slow waltz. "I bought this place the day I realised I loved you," he whispered, "then the day I died, I cast a protection spell around this place so no-one would find it until I moved in here with my wife. I thought I lost you, petal."

You sobbed and wrapped your arms around his waist and sobbed into the crook of his neck, him nuzzling your head and swaying gently with you. You two stood there for a long while before Loki gained the courage to walk you to the bedroom and lay you down on it with him spooned behind you.

You laid there, in silence, basking in the quiet for hours. You enjoyed the company of each other like nothing else and you had almost forgotten the question pressing on your mind but you knew you had to ask.

"What do I call you?" you mumbled, unsure whether he was asleep or not.

Your husband hummed from behind you, pulling you closer to him as he mumbled, his voice deep from sleep, "I'm your Thomas, Y/N. But in front of others, call me Loki."

You nodded and kissed his cheek before allowing sleep to consume you.

You weren't alone after all.

#loki odinson #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki (marvel)#sir thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe x reader #tom hiddleston #loki fluff #loki x you #requests open #imagines #loki laufeyson x reader

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five-miles-over · 2 years

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Tom Hiddleston Characters: How They Act When They Have a Crush (on You)

(Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or images. This is just a fun listicle, not designed to offend anyone. As always, please feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism below. Thank you, and without any further ado, please enjoy!)

Characters in this list: Will Ransome, King Henry V, Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim, Bill Hazeldine, Coriolanus, Jonathan Pine, Robert Laing, Magnus Martinsson, Oakley, Thomas Sharpe, and Jaguar Villain! Tom Hiddleston.

Will Ransome from The Essex Serpent

Will Ransome having a crush on you would include him offering small bunches of flowers to you whenever he saw you. He would eagerly explain to you the names of the flowers and where they were to be found in Aldwinter. And he would love it whenever you showed interest in the topics he discussed during his weekly sermons at the church, losing track of time while he answered your questions and offered additional commentary.

Despite being very nervous about saying something inappropriate, Will also finds a way to give you a genuine compliment every time you meet, whether it's about the way you styled your hair or the color of your outfit.

When you're not around, he'd fantasize about what it'd be like to be intimate with you. Not necessarily intimate a sexual manner - he would imagine holding hands with you, reading to you while you were curled up in his lap, spending a cold morning under a warm blanket with you, and playing with his dog in the springtime. Will would dream of a life with you, and pray to God that He keeps the two of you together.

King Henry V from The Hollow Crown

King Henry's crush on you began during your betrothal to him. You were brought to meet him for the first time and your father signed the agreement solidifying your family's alliance to the young king of England.

With one look, Henry found himself bewitched by you, declaring that you must be a goddess like Venus or a maiden of heavenly beauty like Helen of Troy. After signing the agreement, Henry would take great interest in showing you around the palace (with a chaperone present of course. Medieval courting. XD). He'd study your face as the two of you went to different rooms - the gardens, the throne room, the library, the king's study - so he could figure out which places you liked the best.

After you had gone home, Henry would ask his men to find out everything they could about you: your favorite flower, your favorite food(s), your favorite fragrance. He wanted to make sure that your new chamber in the palace would be perfect for you.

He would take immense delight in seeing you smile, feeling his own heart skip a beat every time you laughed. When you were alone, he might nervously tell you a flirtatious joke, feeling relieved when you giggled. Maybe if he was feeling bold, he would sweet-talk you into holding his hand (with your consent, of course) and letting him kiss your perfect lips.

Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim from the Marvel Cinematic Universe

("A god doesn't have crushes, Ruhi!"

"Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that.")

Loki having a crush on you would include him showing off his tricks and illusions in the hopes that it would amaze you. He'd take great pleasure in making you laugh, whether it's through a witty joke or a prank (even if Thor is the butt of said prank).

He would be mesmerized whenever you showed off your talents, like singing, dancing, hand-to-hand combat, writing, or even vocal impressions. Loki would be your biggest cheerleader, applauding each and every time, encouraging you to hone your skills further. (Shit, now I'm thinking of Loki holding green pom-poms…what have I done?)

When he's alone, Loki would think about you, wondering if you liked him too. He might even keep a journal titled with your name, a dedicated place for him to write about all the details that he adores about you.

Loki would sometimes watch you from afar (not necessarily in a creepy, stalking way), and conjure little presents and trinkets to make you feel better when you were upset. He would grow jealous whenever another person tries to make a move on you, and would either intercept them or simply persuade you to turn your attention elsewhere.

For the record, it would take a bit of teasing from Thor (or Lady Frigga - dear autocorrect, stop changing her name to Fridge) in order to get Loki to confess his attraction to you.

Bill Hazeldine from Suburban Shootout

Bill having a crush on you would include him helping you out whenever possible, carrying groceries to your home, making sure you got home safely at night, or letting you stand under his umbrella whenever it unexpectedly rained. (*insert Rihanna reference here*)

Bill would be keen to listen to you talk about anything, he absolutely enjoys the sound of your voice as if it were his personal radio show. And at home, Bill would gush about you to his parents, showering you with plenty of praise in your absence.

He would long for the chance to ask you out on a date but every time you say his name, his tongue goes numb and he forgets the words that he mentally rehearsed several times.

Caius Martius Coriolanus from Coriolanus

Caius having a crush on you would include him being surprised at first, thinking such a feeling to be beneath him. He is a general, he must always be in control (if you know which film this is from, tell me so I can give you a Tumblr hug).

He would take his time, keeping his adoration a secret, sending his servants to find out about your background. And every time he saw you in the town square, he would stare but quickly turn away once you caught him. Eventually, he would accept that his feelings for you were not some passing fancy but a genuine love for you. He would think about your charms, your beauty, your smile, and wish to have it all for himself.

When he is working, his army colleagues would tease him about his affections, badgering him with questions about you. Of course, Caius would be quick to lose his temper, barking at them to mind their own business.

Caius would try to get your attention by inviting your family for supper, sending a servant to your home bearing a letter that described his interest in you. He would have his servants prepare the best dishes for your family, knowing that he will need to make a good impression as a worthy suitor for you.

When interacting with you, Caius would speak in soft, dulcet tones, asking if you were enjoying the food and if you were comfortable. You would be the only person that could make Caius laugh, let alone smile.

Jonathan Pine from The Night Manager

Jonathan having a crush on you would include him conveying his affection through polite gestures, like asking about your day whenever you saw him in the lobby. He would listen to you rant about almost anything, like your favorite book or your favorite film actor. He would keep your favorite magazine reserved for you, save a plate of food if he knew you were going to have a long night.

If you were in the hotel when your birthday rolled around, he would use some of his savings to buy you a small present, be it a box of sweets or a piece of jewelry.

He wouldn't talk much about himself with you, given his dark, troubling past, but he would be very protective towards you. Jonathan would do anything and everything in his power to make sure that nobody hurt you, or used you as some type of bait to get to him.

Robert Laing from High-Rise

Robert having a crush on you would include him bringing coffee to you in the morning, just so he can see you before going off to work at the medical school.

He would remember each and every thing about your interactions. If you told him that your favorite scent was gardenia flowers, then he'd switch his usual cologne for one that smelled more like gardenia flowers. He'd even buy a tie that was your favorite color.

If the two of you were ever at a party, Robert would keep a subtle eye on you, prepared to knock anyone out if they ever got too handsy with you. He'd also silently hope that at one point during the night, you would approach him, a slow song would start to play, and you would put your arms around his neck, looking into his eyes…

Yeah, for someone who looks very detached from most things, Robert would be very, very attached to you.

Magnus Martinsson from Wallander

Magnus having a crush on you would include plenty of teasing from his work colleagues at the police station. In front of them, he'd pretend to be all tough about it, denying as much as he can. But on the inside, Magnus would literally be putty in your hands.

He would buy flowers for you, often leaving them at your doorstep because of his odd hours. Whenever the two of you happened to meet, Magnus would feel elated whenever you recognized him.

It would take some egging from his colleagues or even Wallander himself to get Magnus to stop admiring you from afar and just ask you out for a drink.

Oakley from Unrelated

Oakley having a crush on you would include him doing a lot of tricks to impress you (like backflips in the air or putting out a match with his tongue). He'd love to show off in front of you, even if it means his friends teasing him about it. He'd flex his muscles (he has them, right?), brag about how good of a swimmer he is, and act like he's not afraid of any challenge.

Behind doors, he'd also do a lot of the cheesy things, like writing your first name with his last name in a notebook, or listing everything he likes about you.

Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak

Thomas having a crush on you would include him stealing glances at you from across the ballroom while you socialize with other guests. In public, Thomas would do a double take whenever you walked by.

Even though his sister keeps an iron grip on Thomas, he would still find a way to offer you compliments. He would tell you about the beautiful color of your eyes, the loveliness of your hairstyle, and the aesthetic appeal of your outfit.

And in private, he would write letters addressed to you - letters that he may or may not ever send to you, letters entailing each and every thing he enjoyed about you, letters that described everything he wished to do with you. One of the letters consisted of his wish to dance with you under the stars of Paris, and hold you in his arms while you gazed at the Eiffel tower.

Jaguar!Tom Hiddleston

Tom doesn't have "crushes"; he's a pretty guarded person, so he either falls hard, or not at all.

Tom being interested in you would include him bringing you plenty of luxurious gifts (Godiva chocolates, Chanel perfume, the latest designer gowns, your own 2-bedroom flat in London) and making time for you in his busy schedule.

He wold always have his chauffeurs pick you up from work/school, just to make sure that you're in safe hands.

When you're together, Tom would enjoy stealing an occasional kiss and surprising you with romantic gestures. On your birthday, he made entire city blackout except for London Bridge, which was lit up in your favorite color. He even booked a private theater just for the two of you, and had a showing of your favorite movie or play.

And if anyone tries to hit on you or be inappropriate with you? Be prepared to hear about their "mysterious disappearance" on the news the next day.

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ladycamillewrites · 1 year

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hiii my friendsss ♡♡

It’s fictive-sl0th here 👋🏼

Welcome to my second blog where I’ll be writing for other TH characters than Loki !! If you’re interested in the men shown in my header stay tuned for little projects ; )

▪️ Opening event here ▪️

The first bigger project will be a hiddles drama / love series with the amazing @holdmytesseract so let’s take a first little peak on...

“Against the odds”...

“But still. I‘ll call you darling“ Tom winked, the steel blue eyes sending a flirty letter that made your knees go jelly. Good thing you were seated because you were a sucker for his charm, especially after three years of dull picture-perfect play pretend with Nate.

“Well, without you playing along it would have been shitty” you quipped nervously, the scent of his cologne invading your nostrils like a wildfire. Tom was the perfect charming villain who would surely make millions of woman fall for Alexander Kray in an instant.

“Well, erm it’s about your ex” Liam whispered carefully but it was hard either way. Your heart dropped, fingers digging in the soft fabric of your tote bag.

SOON HERE and on @holdmytesseract ❤︎

—> taglist open

#writer #ficitve-sl0th second #hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x you #holdmytesseract #smut #Drama #love #Angst #thomas sharpe #james conrad #jonathan pine #robert laing #fanfic writing #hiddlestoners

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asgards-princess-of-mischief · 5 months

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Last Updated: 2024-03-05

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.

❆ 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."

❆ 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〕 • ♥︎ •

See Also: Navigation || Thomas Sharpe Master Index

Authors: @just-the-hiddles || @ladyfluff || @sserpente ||

#Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader #Sir Thomas Sharpe x Female Reader #Sir Thomas Sharpe x Y/N #Sir Thomas Sharpe x You #Thomas Sharpe x Reader #Thomas Sharpe x Female Reader #Thomas Sharpe x Y/N #Thomas Sharpe x You #Tom Hiddleston x Reader #Tom Hiddleston x Female Reader #Tom Hiddleston x Y/N #Tom Hiddleston x You #Crimson Peak Fanfiction #Crimson Peak Fanfic #Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction #Tom Hiddleston Fanfic

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presidentlokis-hornyhelmet · 2 years

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Thomas Sharpe Vampire AU moodboard (circa 1887)

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andsheloved · 2 years

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one shots

ocean eyes - when your own mind seems shattered, you’re reminded of who will always be there to pick up the pieces.

#thomas sharpe comfort #thomas sharpe x fem!reader #thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x f!reader #thomas sharpe x you #thomas sharpe x y/n

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slashersidewhore · 10 months

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Slashers! First meeting their S/O

Slashers! x gn!reader

Includes Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair

Requested? Yes

Warnings: beefy murder boyfriends, fluffy shit, pre-relationship stuff, love at first sight, mentions of murder/gore/malicious intentions, violence

Michael Myers

It was Halloween night, dark eyes through holes in a white, cast of a mask staring through the second story window of an old, decrepit house

A young boy skipping by as in a blue, capped superhero, an older couple strolling on the opposite street, arm in arm minding their own in the breezy night

Eyes cast downward as the sharp ring of a doorbell shot through the old bones of the house, glint of a butchers knife tight in the grasp of the man know silently making his way through the upper hall

“Are we even supposed to be going in here?”

“Who cares, it’s tradition to check out the Myers mansion, relax”

“I don’t know, this feels wrong..”

Listening to what seemed to be two young adult, the shrill voice of one of them almost instantly striking the silent man with a headache

Michael watched from the shadows as the pair came into view, the louder of the two wearing her hair in tight pigtails, a cheerleader outfit splattered with what was obviously fake blood, a bad attempt at a murder victim

Ready to lumber from the darkness and strike down on the intruders, the man was struck to the spot he stood as you came into view, wearing another poorly, and clearly last minute, thrown on pirate costume

You were what he imagined when the perfect kill was dreamt, your face burned into his as your pictured screams of fear and pain died as did your fighting spirit, the knife once again tightened in his grip, knuckles turning a pale white, veins pulsing beneath taut skin

He wanted, no, needed to kill you

Even the thought alone send a bold chill of excitement through the otherwise lifeless body of his

“You know what would be so funny-“

The girl in pigtails spoke as she flipped around the corner, the voice shrinking in her throat quickly morphing in a scream of terror as she bumped into the large, awaiting body of the infamous Michael Myers

Although her scream was also short lived as a rough hand was immediately around her throat, lifting her from her feet and slamming her back into the adjacent wall breath knocked from her body at the impact

His other hand rose, moonlight catching the long, silver blade as it was plunged deep into her stomach, twisting, turning as her throat gave up on its scream, another shriek caused the killers head to twist like an owl

There you stood, frozen in place with hands partly covering your mouth, eyes wide, not shaking, not running, just watching as the man before you brutalized your friend

But as your eyes caught each others in the dimly lit hallway, Michaels grasp on the now corpse released, body hitting the floor with a dull thud he didnt bother to pull the knife from its placed nestled between dead flesh, not even glancing down at it

Your hands slowly fell from your face, still not shaking, but clearly stressed with sweat as you wiped your hands on the fabric covering your thighs

“I’m, sorry for breaking in”

Your voice was soft, careful but not disingenuous, Michael didn’t know how to react, unable to look away or even move

His head tilted to the left, mask bunching at the bottom, he turned on his heel and made his exit through the rickety wooden door leading to the backyard, leaving the body, knife, and you alone in the corridor

As his walk through the brisk night air flooded under the neck of his mask, the killer could feel his normally emotionless face scrunch with confusion

If hearing you scream in fear wasn’t what he thought he wanted from you, then what did he want from you?

He would have to investigate this sudden curiosity closely

Jason Voorhees

Jason was tirelessly indulging the day by sitting on the end of his cabins patio, watching the slow turn of various wild animals go by

There weren’t any campers to keep him busy, nor screams and boisterous laughter of teens trying to get their rocks off on the property, just the hum of June bugs and trees swaying beneath the gentle breeze of warm weather

That was until a shrill yelp drilled into Jason’s eardrums, bothered by the distraction from his day of calm, the man stood with shoulders squared, grabbing the awaiting machete perched against one of the patios wooden posts

Marching through the dense woods, his boots crushed leaves as he made he way to the noise from minutes earlier, hoping whoever it was was far gone

“Oh my god”

Of course they weren’t though, of course whoever this was decided to stupidly wander onto private property, clearly posted in writing on multiple trees and wire fences

Although Jason hesitated when he heard something he’d never had the pleasure of catching

“You poor thing, here I am breaking the law because of you”

Peeking from behind the thick trunk of a large oak, Jason was surprised to see a stranger kneeling in the dirt, fingers and palms cut up with minor wounds as they attempted to unwind a helpless rabbit that seemed to have gotten itself rolled in loose barbed wire

Not minding to worry about yourself, you winced as another barb caught your finger, slicing the thin flesh there as the rabbit was freed, trotting away without a care in the world

“Okay, now which way did I come in from?”

You wondered aloud, turning on your heel to go back the direction you think you came from, hoping in get back on the hiking trail you’d left behind

Jason merely watched with confusion, no malice or really any thought behind his eyes other than the urge to, protect you, from what he wasn’t sure

But he knew for certain, you weren’t someone he’d be able to forget

Thomas Hewitt

Let’s get one thing straight, Thomas doesn’t enjoy killing, him and his family was forced into it by Hoyt and his insatiable urge to feed and “care” for everyone

Most victims were easy to kill, treating him like a monster, screaming in his face curses and insults as they went out

Others he had a harder time with, the ones that just cry, plead with him for their life, promise they won’t tell the police if he lets them go

That being said, he’s never failed to kill, not once since he’s begun

That is until one summer day, when a knock at the door caught Luda Mae by surprise, wiping her wet hands on a dish towel and headed to the front door

Eyes narrowed, the older woman opened the door to reveal a young adult, you, standing there with a shy smile gracing your features, you held a pair of car keys in one hand, the other free to reach up and rub nervously at the back of your neck

“I’m sorry to bother you and, whoever else is home, but my car broke down a mile out, and I’m unable to reach anyone on my cell”

Luda Maes confusion turned to soft pity, a reserved grin taking over her lips as she moved to the left, a hand beckoning you in

“Well dear, there’s a phone in the kitchen, if you’d like I can call the towns auto shop while you wait in the living room”

Although still shaken from being practically dropped in the middle of nowhere Texas, you made your way graciously inside, thanking the woman with kind praise as you did so

Taking a seat on one of the two sofas available, your ankles crossed as you stared down at one of the keychains dangling from your car keys

You could hear the woman in the kitchen shuffling around, although you weren’t sure if you could hear anyone speaking to anyone on the phone

Curious, you slowly stood, palms sweaty as you now took a few steps from the living room, now able to hear Luda Mae speaking on the low to someone, then the sound of a corded phone clicking into its place on the wall

Heart slowing as you realized you were just being paranoid, you quickly turned on your heel to find your way back to the couch, although your trip was cut short by your feet crossing over one another, about to fall on your face when a two large hands steadied your shoulder

Gazing up, your breath caught in your throat at the absolute behemoth of a man now standing before you, a leather mask covering the bottom half of his face, thick brows furrowing as you simply continued to stare with wonder up at him

“Thank you”

Was all you could manage, voice catching as you realized your body was practically pressed up against his

“There you are dear, oh look I see you’ve met my youngest boy Tommy”

Luda Mae spoke as she entered the room, knowing look on her face as she coyly added fuel to the current fire

Pulling yourself up right and out of Thomas’ grasp, your hot face was focused on the older woman in hopes the man wouldn’t notice your sudden fluster

“Unfortunately our only truck is out with my other son, so I was thinking my boy here could be so kind as to walk you to the auto shop, you’ll be safe with him, promise”

You didn’t notice the way Thomas’ eyes followed you, too focused on thinking about being alone with a man as attractive as the one quietly standing beside you

“You’re not worried are you?”

Luda seemed to test you, but it went right over your head as you shook your head no

“He seems very reliable”

You smiled up at Thomas, unable to catch the skip in his chest as you did so

Luda Mae could only grin at the sight, ready to call up Hoyt and tell him to leave this stranger alone, as she could see a future blooming before her eyes

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent wasn’t one to leave his studio unless absolutely necessary, and even in those cases he didn’t, it wasn’t pleasant for the man

Until Bo brought home a guest, someone shaking and blindfolded as he manhandled the poor soul, although the stranger wasn’t screaming nor fighting, it was as if they’d completely given up, or knew it wouldn’t help

Vincent watched silently as his brother forced you to the ground, your knees surely hurting as they made contact with the hard, concrete floor

“Do you know what happens to people that wander where they don’t belong?”

Bo questioned menacingly, although he had a playful glint in his eye Vincent had never seen before

Silently creeping up behind his twin, the long haired man narrowed his eyes as he scanned what he could see in the dim, candle lit room of your face

The obvious old, dried tears that had found their way down your cheeks were still shining, creating lines over your soft skin

You looked to be carved of marble, painted with delicate strokes and framed with care, you were a work of art, and he hadn’t even seen your eyes yet

Placing a deft hand on Bo’s shoulder, the two exchanged looks, the shorter haired twin groaning in annoyance, although that look from before was still in his eye

Right as he was turning to take his leave, he leaned closer to Vincent, whispering to him as he passed

“I took one glance and knew you’d like them, guess I was right”

Then he was gone, foot steps disappearing as he left up the basement stairway

Vincent cautiously walked closer to you, noticing how you flinched back a bit when he made a move to pull your blindfold up, doing it slowly as to not startle you

Your watery eyes fell on his masked face, brows furrowing slightly as you glanced around the room

Vincent’s mouth soured at the idea that you were looking for Bo, of course you would be, what new comer in town wasn’t, until

“Is that man from before gone?”

You’d whispered, and if your sweet voice didn’t send Vincent into a flutter of strange emotions, your next words at the nod of, “yes”, Vincent gave you did

“Good, he scares me”

He merely nodded, unsure of how to act

“Is he going to come back?”

Vincent shrugged

Your shifted so you were sitting, wincing at the ache in your legs, eyes nervous but no longer afraid, you looked to the silent man before you

“Will you, stay here if he comes back?”

Vincent had never been so quick to nod a, “yes”

Sorry I’ve been gone for so long, but I’m back now! I’m working on what is currently in my requests but feel free to send in more!

^ me returning after being inactive for 6 months

#slasher #thomas hewitt #vincent sinclair #michael myers #slasher x reader #jason voorhees #slashers x reader insert #slashers x gn reader #slashers x reader #thomas hewitt fanfic #thomas hewitt x reader #jason voorhees x reader #Jason Voorhees fanfic #michael myers x reader #Michael Myers fanfic #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair fanfic

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