#sir thomas sharpe fanfiction

[smolvenger]

The Child Called Sharpe (Thomas Sharpe x fem! Reader Blurb)

Summary: You and Thomas Sharpe welcome your first baby and his second, as Thomas himself faces his own demons regarding his past.

Word Count: 1K (er...blurb or short oneshot, whatever)

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy and childbirth, but nothing graphic. In this version, though I try to have a more nuanced take on Lucille, In this fic I choose to portray the Lucille/Thomas relationship as nonconsensual, pedophilic, and abusive so if you don't like that don't read this, so mentions of sexual abuse, death, illness, blood with some of the canon events of Crimson Peak. But it becomes a lot of tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N: I can't please everyone with Crimson Peak on the is Lucille good or bad vrs. is Thomas good or bad discourse, so why bother trying anymore. I just wanna write my stuff. From @holdmytesseract's request!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

Love for him meant creation. It brought out Thomas’s gift of invention tenfold- for love itself was creation. For the first time in his life, an act of love brought out the child’s creation. So it was natural for Thomas to spend hours inventing more for this little child on their way.

That is, his second child. For he had a child, once, and lost that child, once. 

Yes, it was a child conceived from control rather than consent…but it was still a child in need of care. A hungry baby- a human life crying for milk, and burning with fever. A child “born wrong.” A child Enola swore to fight to keep alive. 

And a child that despite everything died anyway. As did Enola. 

Despite Lucille’s cruelty, he did pity her grief for that child- For it was his grief as well.

Lucille caught ill and died not long after. He at least made sure she died comfortably. Warm beneath blankets on a soft bed. Assured her she was loved and kissed her cheek as she took her last breath.

It was complicated, his feelings about his late sister. He never could decide one thing about her. For everything was true- there was both in her. Lucille, both cruel and misunderstood, powerful and pitiful, villain and victim.

Though he never once forced himself on anyone or took advantage of a child as she did to him…

And yet…

He was still guilty of scheming, of blood, of darkness as she was. Of the invention that he wanted to be funded, that he bought at the price of three women’s lives… 

But… assaulting him when he was little? Using his innocence until when he was grown he knew no other but her? You would tell him that even if the murders were understandable, she did cross a line in that regard.

He still didn’t know if the woman who at once was his partner, his equal, his sister as well as his jailer, his predator, his molester was deserving of it. 

Or not. 

Or both.

Yet, all of that darkness and blood was now in the past. Here you were his current wife. A wife who would never take advantage of him. A wife who listened and respected when he said “no.” A wife who wouldn’t push him. Wouldn’t manipulate him. Wouldn’t control him. A wife who forgave him and saw he was now trying to do right with his life, and his choices and would be there to support him.

 Your pregnancy was poignant.  A reminder that he had a new life now- and a life that was about to expand as your stomach did each month.  A new life was about to come forth literally and figuratively for him. 

In the corner of his workshop in a special box were toys he made once. Toys were made for the first child who died. 

He never prayed, but he did now to whoever listened. For once, those toys would know being loved, being played, and for a baby’s laughter and delight and adoration. They wouldn’t rust from age, but with use. To be worn not with dust, but with love.

He brought out the box one morning and set it in the nursery of his new house. A simpler house compared to Allerdale Hall’s Majesty. Smaller and brighter, made of cherrywood and over earth rather than clay. But cheerful, the warmth bursting in every room.

The toys were cleaned and set ready in that nursery corner. You squeezed his hand after he did so.

When making sure you were comfortable, or when you slept or napped, away he would be in his workshop. He had a special toy shop now next to the house. So in his downtime, he would be found creating little toys that a child of any sex would love. A little teddy bear that twirled on top of a drum. A little cat that lifted to lick its little paw next to a puppy that wagged its tail. 

But…what else would a baby need!? His mind was reeling. It had been too long…

Of course! A place to sleep! You had insisted the old wooden rocker would work…but he still had that itching, the gears in his mind whirring faster than any clay mine.

He took a few weeks to study the designs and then set right to work. He stayed up late, rolling up his sleeves. Working on one where if you pressed a small pedal, it would rock gently, oh so gently, as to not stir a baby to more wailing, but only to sleep.

So when he discovered that Lady Sharpe’s water broke, he insisted on staying by you.

“Thomas! But…husbands don’t..don’t usually stay!” you cried. You clutched his hand as he led you to the bed.

Lucille would urge him to leave when it was time to put a cleaver into one of the wives.

For once, he would look at the blood and the bodily innards spilling from his wife and not turn away.

He shook his head, though his hand was still in yours.

“No- My dear, all of my life, I closed my eyes and ran away. I didn’t look when things happened. Not this time- after I get the midwife, I am staying with you. I will not run away for once. I’m going to stay with my wife and keep my eyes open, no matter what I see. I love you- and for once, I am not leaving.” I will not leave you alone to deal with it now.

You grabbed him and kissed his cheek. Then he ran and fetched the midwife. He held to his word and stayed.

Labor is always long. Labor is always primal. But he waited there. Squeezing your hand, cooling your head for every painful cry and push. 

Then, after the long hours, though he was a man used to blood he turned pale… Then at last there was a cry.

The midwives smiled, bringing out a little baby in their blaket. Declaring, “It’s a girl!”

You let out a smile and then a laugh of relief. Thomas kissed your hand, then looked at her. His blue eyes brimmed with tears, but for once in his life they were happy ones.

The little girl was brought out in her blanket, needing her mother’s touch- being so new to this cold world and wanting the soft embrace of knowing she was loved now that she was here.

“Look at her…look at her- our baby! Our daughter! Oh!” you cried, a mess of crying, swear, and relief—the pain of the last several hours was forgotten for the tiny baby.

“I never could imagine it,” he agreed, he pecked her tiny forehead.

Once she had settled down, you handed her over to Thomas. The warm, living bundle in his arms. Yes, her cry was loud and bright…but it only signaled that she was alive.. He had never known such joy without confinement, without limits.

The midwives and nurses were paid and thanked. They left, but though it was a long day his Daedelian mind was eager to share his gift.

As you sat in the bed after a while, Thomas got up.

“I have a gift now. For her,” he announced.

Setting you in the wheelchair for rest, he led you to the nursery. The little girl in your arms. Inside the little pastel room there was something in the middle that was tall beneath a blanket.

Thomas walked forward and slipped the blanket off. You let out a gasp.

Beneath was the cradle Thomas made. It was stunningly beautiful- a little pedal that when he stepped on it, would make it rock. Over the bed was a music box on the side that trinkled a lullabye. Stars and a crescent moon dangled were placed to spin over the babies head where she would be placed.

You gasped, seeing how ornate it was. Every bit made with love. As you got up and placed her inside, she opened her little eyes and cooed. You made a little gasp as she took in the sight- her parents and her special gift. Music, rocking, and the stars and moon to dance above her.

To think, after all he had seen, experienced, and done…that he would come to know this moment. Here it was…and he didn’t feel worthy of it.

What when she was older? His own father was a monster. And for a while, fatherhood was linked to such things…

“I only hope I shall be a good father for that little girl…” Thomas wondered..

“You already are,” you assured him. You wrapped an arm around him and kissed him on the cheek.

That night, you were set to sleep after the exhaustion of delivery and elation of the baby. Thomas offered to be there in the nursery. For she was crying through that night, as any baby. Not that she was hungry, as he found out, she just needed warmth.

He got her out of the lovely cradle and went to the rocking chair. He wanted to hold her, feel her close. Her warmth and beating heart and life. 

His most precious creation of all…and the one that would survive. He knew she would.

“I promise you, my little love…” Thomas told the baby. “You will not know of attics. Of cold and punishments. Of plotting and murders. Of blood and cruelty…”

He kissed the top of her head.

“No- you will be Protected. Wanted…and loved.”

He would do everything so that his daughter would never have to suffer as he did.

#thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x female reader #crimson peak fanfic #crimson peak fanfiction #sir thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe x reader #sir thomas sharpe x y/n #sir thomas sharpe x fem! y/n #tom hiddleston characters #angst with a happy ending #crimson peak #crimson peak fanfics #fanfiction #tom hiddleston

[jokeringcutio]

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."

2.

The next day, you found yourself holed up in your tower chamber, the memory of your dance with Thomas haunting your every waking moment. You had inquired after him, researched him, desperate for any scrap of information that might help you understand the man who had so thoroughly captivated you. Luckily, your parents and their servants could provide you with all the information you might need.

"Sir Thomas Sharpe," you whispered to yourself, tracing the letters on the page with your fingertips. "Baronet and engineer."

You learned that his family line was dwindling. He was the last alive, with no heir to carry on the name. His house, once grand and imposing, now lay in ruins - a testament to the passage of time and the ravages of decay. But despite it all, Thomas still dreamed of resurrecting his family's fortune with his ambitious red clay mining project.

And you thought he might be onto something.

With renewed vigor, you set about drawing up plans for his machine, inspired by the conversation you'd shared while dancing. The hours slipped away as you sketched and calculated, determined to lend your own talents to his cause.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you spread the blueprints across the table, studying them with a critical eye. This was something real, something tangible that could bring you closer to the man who had stolen your heart in one dizzying waltz.

"Thomas Sharpe," you murmured again, feeling the name curl around your tongue like a secret. "I'll find you... I promise."

3.

A new day dawned, and you found yourself summoned to the drawing room. The request, although not unusual, surprised you, because your mother demanded you’d be presentable. Fear gripped your heart at that because it could only mean one thing.

A suitor.

And how you dreaded to come face to face with a man whose visage or demeanor repulsed you. Especially now that your mind was set on only one man in the entire universe.

The door creaked open to reveal Thomas standing there in front of your parents, hat in hand, his black coat clinging to his slender frame. His gaze met yours, a piercing blue that sent a shiver down your spine and weakened your knees. This was the first time you properly saw his face and oh-my! He was handsome. More so than you had envisaged him to be in your dreams. It felt as if your heart stopped beating entirely and as if the world froze in a blizzard of roses and butterflies. This man.

But wait, had he come looking for you?

"Miss," he began, his voice soft as silk, "I must confess that ever since our encounter at the masquerade, I have been unable to forget you." There was something gritty about his voice that betrayed the truth of his words. As if he had tried his best to put you out of his mind and had failed.

You liked that, though. You liked the thought of him being unable to forget you. It meant he was as much on your mind as you were on his. Your heart raced at his admission, but you fought to maintain your composure.

Your parents, who had been watching the exchange with keen interest, seemed to light up at the whole display. Your father spoke with enthusiasm, "Sir Thomas Sharpe here asked for your hand in marriage,” he said to you. “I think it would be a wonderful match.”

Your heart skipped a beat as your mother turned to Thomas with a smile. “Sir Thomas, we would be honored to welcome you into our family."

Thomas stood rigidly, and you could have missed the relief that flooded his eyes entirely had you not been looking at them. There was a sudden warmth to his gaze that told you that this was what he had come for.

But at the same time, you felt doubt cling to your heart. You wanted him, but… he stood so rigid, so unmoving. Like a true gentleman, you thought. But were your parents aware of his misfortune, you wondered? Or had he tricked them into making a match? The rich spinster whose parents feel embarrassed, eager to marry her off to a man with a pretty title who seems to have captured their daughter’s heart. The first to have achieved this.

"Mother," you whispered, pulling her aside, and out of the drawing room where you would have a bit of privacy and the men couldn’t hear. "I don't understand. He is poor, why are you encouraging this?"

"Darling," she replied in a hushed tone, her breath warm against your ear, "you have the funds, he has the need. It's your duty to marry and secure our family's future.”

“His house is in shambles, you told me yourself,” you whispered. “Aren’t you afraid he will usurp all of my resources? Have you considered he might only want to marry me because of my wealth?”

But your mother shook her head and smiled. “Listen, dear, Thomas seems to behave like a true gentleman. You could do worse. Besides,” here she paused and you waited full of anticipation to hear what argument she was going to use next, “even if he is poor, he needs an heir. And it is your duty as a woman to continue the line of our family. And quite frankly, I haven’t seen you as interested in a man in all of my life. Just take this opportunity and don’t ruin it. You’re going to be a good mom, give birth to a son to ensure a safe future for yourself and our family, and I will finally have the grandchildren I so desire."

Anger bubbled within you, hot and fierce. You wanted to marry for love, not obligation. And you decided to tell your mother as much.

“I won’t marry just to be a breeding mare,” you hissed. “If I marry it’ll be out of love. Not out of obligation.”

The creaking of the floorboards made you look up in shock to meet deep blue eyes of Thomas as he rounded the corner. How much had he heard? There was a sadness in his eyes that quickly melted into a fierce determination. Oh no, your heart raced as your mind clouded with disastrous scenarios. His face was pale - paler than before - and his eyes widened in shock.

"Thomas," you tried to reach out to him, but he stepped back, the hurt in his eyes unmistakable.

"Forgive me, Miss. Coming here was a mistake. I must take my leave," he said, his voice barely a whisper. And without another word, he left the room, leaving you standing there, heart pounding and mind racing.

“Sir Thomas!” Your mother called out, running after him as fast as her skirts would allow. You knew you’d be in trouble now.

Don’t ruin it, your mother had said, only milliseconds before you’d done just that.  

You watched Thomas go, a flurry of black coat and wounded pride. The memory of his touch, his scent, and his voice haunted you, taunting you with the promise of what could have been. But as the door closed behind him, a cold, hard truth settled in your bones. You had lost him, and it was unlikely you would ever find him again.

4.

Days had passed since your last encounter with Thomas, and the ache in your chest grew stronger. The walls of your chamber felt suffocating, so you defied your parents' wishes and ventured outside into the bustling streets. Your reappearance caused whispers to spread like wildfire; some marveled at your beauty and kindness despite your reclusive nature, while others gossiped about your unmarried status.

Returning home, cheeks flushed from the cool air, your heart sank as you found a man you had known all of your life as Uncle Al - one of your neighbors – speaking to your father in hushed tones. It was apparent he was asking for your hand in marriage.

"Please, sir," the man said, desperation lacing his voice, "I can provide for her."

"Give me away?" You scoffed, anger boiling inside you. "To him?"

The man had known you from when you were a little child and was older than you by far.  You had been shocked by the amount of men at your parents’ door recently, but to see him. The neighbor who had always been so kind to you… It was unsettling.

“You can’t be serious,” you said, uncaring if it hurt the man’s feelings. “He’s nearly as old as you!”

Your father's eyes narrowed, clearly displeased by your outburst. “Nearly as old, perhaps,” he said, voice low like a warning. “But he is a good friend of our family and he deserves a bit of happiness.”

Your neighbor stood up a little straighter, a lustful gleam in his eye as his gaze fell upon you. You felt a shiver run down your spine. No, you thought. No way you’d give him the heirs your mother so wanted. Your heart already belonged to another and you had made up your mind a little while ago.

“And a bit more respect as well, don’t you agree?” The hiss made it clear that your father was not to be argued with, and so you directed your gaze down at the ground and muttered a brief apology.

Al seemed to accept it, for a smile took possession of his lips and he turned back to your father again. “Such an endearing creature,” you heard him say, voice like silk. “Whyever have you kept her away from us for so long?”

Because of this, you thought, sadly. Your parents might have feared this. And with a start, you realized how you had set your own demise into motion. That they hadn’t as much locked you away out of shame as well as to protect you from all the unwanted gazes and proposals of men twice your age or more. They knew you hadn’t wanted to marry and had given you the space. But now, society demands them to hand you over to someone. And who better than a family friend they had known all of their lives?

“It is settled then,” you heard Al say and lifted your gaze to see him shake your father’s hand. Your father forced a smile, though you recognized by now that it did not reach his eyes.

A measurement out of necessity. A must. You thought with a shock. Unable to look at the two men any longer, you turned on your heels and ran away. Your bedroom felt safe, for now, high up in your tower, as you threw yourself upon the bed and clutched your pillows tight.

“Not him,” you breathed through tears. “Not Al.” No matter how kind your neighbor had been when you were smaller, he was old and started to grey. He wasn’t nearly as tall as Thomas and didn’t have the same voice or scent.

And there he was again. Thomas never seemed to leave your mind.

After you calmed down enough, you pushed yourself off the bed. Your chest heaved with fury as you went to stare out the window, your breath fogging the cold glass.

You weren’t looking at anything in particular when your gaze fell upon the familiar figure of Thomas across the street. You’d been occupied with your own thoughts, and it took you a few seconds before you realized that your gazes had crossed. All this time you had been searching for him. You knew he was still in the area, knew he had made visits to unsuccessfully gain sponsors to fund his work. But you’d never been able to catch sight of him. And here he was, underneath your window, staring at you from across the street with silent admiration.

How long had he been there?

Your heart leaped. Not wasting another second, you rushed down the stairs and outside, the door slamming behind you.

"Thomas!" You called, seeing how he had turned and was walking away from you. Despite the street being busy this time of the day, you followed his tall shape, running past people and making your way zigzagging through the crowd. The top hat he wore indicated where he went. “Thomas, wait!”

But he kept walking. And just when you started to get out of breath, you saw him come to a standstill. Relieved, you caught your breath and ran towards him. It was as if he waited for you, standing tall and proud, his back still turned towards you. Then he slowly turned around to face you, a sad expression marred his features. His blue eyes were full of turmoil.

"Dear girl,” he murmured, his blue eyes shimmering with unspoken emotions. "I know you must think me a monster, standing underneath your window like I have…”

You shook your head fiercely. “No, not at all,” you breathed.

“I must confess, I have been watching you more frequently these days. I tried to forget, but… I felt drawn to your window more and more, just to catch a glimpse of you,” Thomas admitted, silently. He hung his head in shame. But his blue eyes were kept firmly upon you. “My heart still beats for you."

His admission sent shivers down your spine, your desire for him growing stronger like a moth drawn to a flame.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. Surprise was visible on his face, but only for a moment. Then, he carefully wrapped his arms around you, holding you in an embrace.

“When I said I would not marry out of obligation, I also said I wanted to marry out of love,” you whispered, aware that Thomas could hear. “It is you I have always been waiting for. I want no other.”

Thomas pulled away from the embrace and looked deep into your eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation or doubt. He found none.

He slowly leaned in and pressed his lips against yours, his hands gently caressing your face. The kiss was soft and tender but quickly intensified. As you pulled away, the hunger in your eyes was evident. Without saying a word, you grabbed Thomas's hand, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you.

You led Thomas back to your home. “You must talk to my father again,” you said, still holding his hand in your own. You could feel his eyes upon you, burning with desire. “He just gave me away to another.”

“Another?” Thomas sounded as if he hardly could believe his ears, and you felt how his grip on your hand inadvertently intensified. Once he noticed his bodily reaction, he looked ashamed at your joined hands and relieved some of the pressure, holding your hand gently again.

“I said I wouldn’t, but,” you hesitated, chewing your lip pensively as the both of you stood in front of your parents’ home, glancing up at the tower that you slept in. “Since I have been going out, people have started to notice me.”

You turned to Thomas, eyes locking, and found a look of wonder in his. “A spinster,” you clarified, gently squeezing his hand. “Society has been building up pressure until my father had to relent. I need to be married for the honor of the family name.”

“Then lead me inside,” Thomas said, voice hoarse, almost as if there was a hidden second layer to his words. Inside, it purred inside your mind. Yes, that was where you wanted him. In you, around you, part of you. And so, you led him inside, determined to make your parents see reason. As you entered the parlor, their disapproving eyes bore into you.

"Father, Mother, look who I have brought home," you said, their heads turning to look at the two of you in wonder. There you stood, hand in hand with the man of your dreams. Thomas’s eyes were glinting, a tremble to his smile. Hope, that was the right word. He radiated hope.

"Thomas?" Your father sounded surprised. "The struggling inventor?"

“Sir Thomas Sharpe,” Thomas said firmly, taking you and your parents by surprise. “I might lack the funds for the comfort your daughter deserves, but I have an abundance of love for her. I asked you before and I beg you to consider me again. Annul the agreement with the other suitor to her hand. Your daughter and I are in love. And I will pledge to keep her safe and care for your daughter and our children, if we are blessed to have any, until the end of my days.”

The speech was long, heart-warming, and rendered you speechless. As you watched Thomas he seemed to transform into something else, something ethereal. A glowing creature, full of power and passion. It only confirmed the choice you had made.

Your parents stood there, silently, But you could tell by their faces that they were deep in thought.

"His heart is true, and he loves me," you insisted, gripping Thomas's hand even tighter. "Do you not wish for my happiness?"

A tense silence filled the room until your mother finally spoke, her voice barely audible. "Very well, we shall accept his proposal."

Relief washed over Thomas's face, his eyes brimming with gratitude and love. The weight of your decision hung in the air, heavy but necessary. And that night you had your first meal together. The next morning was spent walking and chatting, getting to know each other a little better.

And as the days passed by, you had no regrets.

Months later, with your dowry spent on tools and materials, you watched as Thomas began to build his machines according to a combination of your designs and his own. His hands, once soft and delicate, grew calloused as he toiled away in his workshop. You watched from the shadows, pride swelling in your chest as his dreams slowly came to life.

Life in your new home wasn't easy; the roof leaked, the walls were damp, and the cold seeped through every crack. But together, you made it work. When you discovered you were pregnant, the hardships only intensified. You were sick quite often and with no servants to tend to your needs, you had to do everything around the house yourself. You fell ill during pregnancy, running a fever that made Thomas fear for both your life as well as that of your unborn child. But you survived and got better. And despite the challenges, love kept you warm. Your shared passion was like an inferno against the bitterness of the world.

By the time your child arrived, a fragile, wailing bundle, Thomas's business had begun to flourish. You supported him unwaveringly, standing by his side as he navigated the treacherous waters of entrepreneurship.

"Thank you, my love," he murmured one night as you lay entwined beneath threadbare blankets, your child nestled between you. "Without you, none of this would be possible."

"Thank you," you whispered back, tears glistening in the moonlight. "For giving me a life worth living."

Slowly but surely, Thomas's business continued to grow, allowing you to repair your home and provide for your growing family. Life was still tough, but it was a life filled with love, laughter, and the knowledge that you had chosen the right path.

And so, with your children surrounding you, you lived out your days as a happy family, bound together by the unyielding force of love, triumphing against all odds.

~ Fin ~

AN: Liked my work? :) ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ Love you all

#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

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

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.

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

✑ Wedded￨Prt. II￨Prt. III by yespolkadotkitty • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: You and Thomas spend your wedding night exploring each other in every way possible.

✑ Child Named Sharpe, the by smolvenger • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: "You and Thomas Sharpe welcome your first baby and his second, as Thomas himself faces his own demons regarding his past."

✑ Corsets and Courtship by babybluebex • 18+ • 〔E᜶A〕 •

Summary: "Your father's business partner comes to your home in hopes of discussing the future, and you both get more than you bargained for."

✑ Fill You by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary:  "Now that you and Thomas have married, he is determined to have you with child come hell or high water."

✑ It's Something Special by lady-rose-moon • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Even though you had been married to the Baronet for three months now, you hadn't been touched by him. Until today..."

✑ My Sweet Baronet by lady-rose-moon • 18+ • 〔E᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Being married to Sir Thomas Sharpe had some... inconvenient setbacks but you are sure to worth through them with your husband."

✑ Ocean Eyes by andsheloved • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "When your own mind seems shattered, you're reminded of who will always be there to pick up the pieces."

✑ Please Forgive Me by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "After nearly being killed by Lucille and discovering Thomas'... role in the whole affair, the two of you [move] to Paris [for] a fresh start... unsure if you [can] forgive [him]..., you agree to attend the Paris Exposition with Thomas [to begin] moving forward."

✑ Secret Affair by sserpente • 〔E᜶F〕 •

Summary: "Imagine [Sir Thomas Sharpe falling in love with you, a maid]. He invites you to live at Allerdale Hall, to serve him and his sister Lucille... All you have to do is keep the affair a secret from her."

✑ To Escape by lady-rose-moon • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "After [discovering] the dark truth about Allerdale Hall, you confront Thomas. [Over] time, you [and your husband plan your escape]."

✑ A Definite Answer by laufeyamp • 〔F〕 •

✑ A Favour by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔F〕 •

✑ Are You Sure? by tomhiddleston-is-mischief • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Buried by colorsunimaginable • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Desperate by lady-rose-moon • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Family by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ His Happiness by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Indulge Me by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 •

✑ Kiss Me by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Memories by tomhiddleston-is-mischief • 〔F᜶A〕 •

✑ No. by ladyfluff • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

✑ Not Stopoing by just-the-hiddles • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Reading While He Works by foxgloveprincess • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Reading with Sir Sharpe by wanna-rock-n-roll-in80s • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Trapped by ladyfluff • 〔A〕 •

✑ Straight Through the Heart by the--blackdahlia • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

✑ Sweet Tooth by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 •

✑ Within the Strongbox of My Heart by frostbitten-written • 〔A〕 • ♡ •

See Also: Navigation || Thomas Sharpe Master Index

Authors: @andsheloved || @babybluebex || @colorsunimaginable || @foxgloveprincess || @frostbitten-written || @just-the-hiddles || @lady-rose-moon || @ladyfluff || @laufeyamp || @smolvenger || @sserpente || @the--blackdahlia || @tomhiddleston-is-mischief || @wanna-rock-n-roll-in80s || @yespolkadotkitty ||

#Thomas Sharpe x Reader #Thomas Sharpe x Female Reader #Thomas Sharpe x Y/N #Thomas Sharpe x You #Sir ​Thomas Sharpe x Reader #Sir Thomas Sharpe x Female Reader #Sir Thomas Sharpe x Y/N #Sir 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

[lulubelle814]

#loki x reader fic #fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic writing #ao3fic #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #loki #loki series #sir thomas sharpe

[holymultiplefandomsbatman]

Does anyone have an idea for a Crimson Peak fic? I've been wanting to write one recently but I can't think of much.

@muddyorbsblr @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @michelleleewise

#crimson peak #crimson peak fanfiction #lucille sharpe #thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe #edith cushing #thomas sharpe x reader #lucille sharpe x reader #edith cushing x reader

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Thomas Sharpe with Obsessed

Obsessed

Pairing: Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Warnings: stalking I guess..

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @suchababie @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry @chickensarentcheap @dontmindmyname123 @old-enough-to-know-better73 @buendiabebeta @princess-jules47

Allerdale Hall seemed like a page right out of a fairy-tale book.

It was old and grand, monumental in appearance even though it was dilapidated and withering.

It had a certain charm, that you couldn’t deny, it almost felt…alive.

And maybe it was.

Ornate frames and pictures that told a thousand stories, you found yourself wanting to know more about what the manor was offering, perhaps aching to tell.

Ghosts embedded within the crumbling walls eager to be amongst a living, breathing soul.

Given the rich history and folklore attached to the place, you were certain to experience something.

You had found yourself asleep on the chaise one evening while reading and woke up to find a warm blanket draped over your body.

Another time the windows and doors shut themselves automatically during a thunderstorm. The fireplace crackled and hissed on its own to bathe the room in a golden glow.

That was just the beginning though.

The constant feeling of being watched never seemed to cease. Every move you made, every step you took, a pair of eyes followed.

A pair of crystal blue eyes that found you hard to resist. They bore into yours when you’d stare into nothingness, rake over your naked form as you wandered about the space before deciding on a choice of outfit.

It was like a presence that could be felt, sometimes heard in the wee hours of the night.

Knocks and thuds that could clearly be heard coming from a room that had been locked for decades.

Your favourite books would be laid out for you, every single night without a clue as to who did it.

Your habit of singing in the shower stopped when one night a faint chuckle was heard echoing right next to you in the tub.

You had found yourself an admirer in the big, empty mansion.

An admirer who despised another presence other than yours.

And it was none other than the last known resident of the place, Sir Thomas Sharpe.

Spooktober Prompts 🍂☠️

#thomas sharpe x reader #sir thomas sharpe fanfiction #thomas sharpe x you #crimson peak #sir thomas sharpe x female reader #thomas sharpe headcanons #thomas sharpe drabble #spooktober #halloween drabble #mostly marvel spooks #crimson peak au #tom hiddleston fanfiction

[justthehiddleswrites]

A Favor | Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Pairing: Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Summary:    Thomas pleasures you at dinner

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex, fingering

-

You were surprised to discover your husband’s sexual tastes leaned to the more… unconventional. By all outward appearances, Sir Thomas Sharpe was a gentleman, with impeccable manners. But behind those soft blue eyes and kind smile, lied the devil. Since marrying three months ago, he had opened your eyes to more things in the bedroom than you thought were possible. And now it was spilling into other areas.

Thomas shared the small chaise with you. His hand wrapped around your waist. His fingers teased along the underside of the bosom, causing your nipples to tighten against your dress.

“Does my touch excite you?” Thomas purred in your ear. You shivered. Your thighs rubbed together as you grew wet. “Are you wet already, my dear?”

You nodded. Thomas opened his mouth to speak more lurid thoughts to you when dinner was announced the two of you headed to the dining room to meet Lucille. Thomas took his spot at the head of the table with you to his right and Lucille to his left. He shifted his chair close to you.

“I’m gonna get you off under this table and if you make a sound, you’re in big trouble.” he growled.

Lucille’s eyes darted between the two of you. You blessed the long tablecloth, which concealed Thomas rucking up your skirts, finding your sex underneath the layers.

“Lucille,” Thomas asked as his fingers teased your folds. “would you be willing to accompany my blushing bride to your seamstress in London next week? She is in desperate need of a ballgown.”

Lucille nodded. “I would be delighted, Thomas.” She took dainty bites of her food.

Thomas turned his attention to you and smiled. You spied the mischief in his eye while he pressed his thumb against your bundle of nerves. “Would you like that, dear?”

You nodded. Thomas slipped his finger inside you. You bit your lip to suppress a gasp, and you lurched forward.

“Are you ill, my darling?” Tom feigned worry, knowing full well what ailed you. “You haven’t touched your dinner.”

Thomas’s fingers curled inside you. “Apologies. I don’t know where my mind went.”

With trembling fingers, you cut your food. Thomas added a second finger. The coil inside you tightened inside you painfully. You did your best to converse with Thomas and Lucille, trusting yourself to one-word answers through gritted teeth. Thomas swiped his thumb against you and you came undone. You exhaled deeply.

Thomas removed his fingers and cleaned them on his napkin before returning to his meal. You rose from the table and Thomas stood as was custom. You spied his erection badly hidden in his trousers. He turned to you to hide it from Lucille.

“I must excuse myself. I am feeling under the weather.” You hurried out of the room and to your bedroom.

Lucille squeezed Thomas’s hand. “You should tend to your wife.”

Thomas kissed her cheek. “Of course.”

You laid back on the bed and your head snapped as the door opened to see Thomas stepping in. “You were such a good girl, my love.” He unfastened his pants, pushing them down. “Now it’s time to return the favor.”

#sir thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe fanfiction #thomas sharpe fanfic #thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe smut #thomas sharpe imagine

[just-the-hiddles]

For Just One Night | Sir Thomas Sharpe x Female Reader

A/N:  This was based on one of those Send Me a Title, I’ll Give You a Plot.  And I thought this was perfect for October.  

Pairing:  Sir Thomas Sharpe x Female Reader

Summary: You have moved into Allerdale Hall in hopes to restore the home.  What you don’t realize is that the ghost of Sir Thomas Sharpe wanders the halls.  Until one night, when his presence becomes known.  

Warnings: ghosts, cursing, mentions of death and trauma, smut (vaginal sex, teasing, mentions of cheating

The Whole Enchilada:  @winterisakiller​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @hopelessromanticspoonie @pinkzz123​ @jessiejunebug​ @cherrygeek86​​ @littleredstarfish​ @rjohnson1280​ @the-minus-four​ @wiczer​ @lotus-eyedindiangoddess​ @catsladen​ @coppercorn-and-cauldron​ @gerli49​ @lovesmesomehiddles​ @devilbat​ @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic​ @tinchentitri​ @theheartofpenelope​ @noplacelikehome77​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​ @snoopy3000​ @voila-tout​ @wolfsmom1​ @queenoftheunderdark​ @xxloki81xx​ @thewaithfuckingannoyme​ @kcd15​ @amirra88​ @malkaviangirl​ @evanlys19​ @thejemersoninferno​ @sadwaywardkid​ @is-it-madness​ @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @peterman-spideyparker​ @caffiend-queen​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @anagrom​ @bradfordbantams​ @ms-cellanies​ @what-just-happened-bro​ @stubby-toe-589331​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @loki-smut-library​ @imnotrevealingmyname​ @trippedmetaldetector​ @tea4sykes​ @noambition-blog​ @sherala007​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @cursethedarkness​ @jewels2876​ @fixatedfandomhunter​ @myraiswack​ @lokikenway97​ @groovylokifanficpersona​ @ciaodarknessmyheart​ @bitchcraft-at-its-finest @hanyasnape​ @lokislastlove​ @stuckysdaughter​ @theunwantedomega​ @dryyoursaltyoceantears​ @petitefirecracker10​ @thummbelina​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @krazycags01​ @howaboutash @thehumanistsdiary​ @daddylouislittle​ @flakyfreak​ @sigyn-nightshade​ @green-valkyrie​ @usedtobegoodfriend96​ @salempoe​ @traumschiffe​ @letsdisneythings​ @arch-venus25​ @thefuckthesaurus​ @karushinekomiya​ @black-ninja-blade​ @worshipping-skarsgard​ @songbirdonamission​ @freakishlyadorable​ @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @give-him-a-banana​  @idontevenknowwbro​ @nikkalia​ @lokilvrr​ @slutforhiddlebum​ @make-it-rien​ @nildespirandum​ @kimanne723​ @build-a-bucky​ @ladyacrasia​ @dangertoozmanykids101​ @mandywholock1980​ @vengrl​ @delightfulheartdream​ @creator-appreciator​ @loki-yoursaviourishere​ @liz-rdwitch​  @luke-windsors-diary​ @pandaxnienke​ @mariekoukie6661​ @7soulstars​ @kiliskywalker666​ @rebbie444​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @hufflautia​ @jaysayey​ @what-a-flammable-heart​ @6heaven6horror6 @imherefortomhiddleston​ 

Taglists are open!  Please let me know, if you wish to be added.  Thank you for your continued reading!

-

As far as spirits go, Sir Thomas Sharpe, for the most part, was a benevolent one. In the near century and a half of haunting the halls of Allerdale Hall, Thomas had a hand only in maybe three or four suspicious deaths. Two were brutes of husbands, beating their wives and the last two an unfortunate accident with a candle. After the fire burned out most of the third floor and roof, Allerdale Hall sat empty. A ghost itself. Thomas spent most of his days either in the remains of his workshop, which had been spared in the fire, or the library on the first floor. He had resigned himself to an eternity of silence and solitude until one day boxes appeared in the front hall.

-

“Just take those marked ‘master’ to the second floor.” you commented to the movers. The men nodded and lifted the boxes, heading towards the elevator.

“No, not the elevator!” You held up a hand, rushing to block their path. “I haven’t had the electrician out to test it yet. I would hate for you to get trapped between floors.”

The men nodded and trudged towards the ornate staircase. When one of them dropped a rather large box of clothes, it jostled Thomas from his thoughts.

“What the devil?” he muttered to himself, moving through the door to peer over the railing. Although he had the ability to float through walls and floors, Thomas always preferred walking, well floating, through doorways. Somewhere deep inside of him, he convinced himself hanging on to these last vestiges of humanity was worthwhile.

“Careful!” you hissed, running up the stairs.

“Yes, ma’am.” The men scurried up to avoid another scolding. You shook your head and headed back to the ground level and into the kitchen to unpack.

“Most interesting.” Thomas commented and headed down to get a closer look at you.

As you walked into the kitchen, your phone rang. You jumped, reception was terrible up here and you were surprised there was any signal.

“How’s the old haunted house?” your friend chuckled on the other end of the line. You put the phone on speaker so you could unpack your dishes.

“There is no evidence this place is haunted.”

Thomas knocked over a container on the other side of the room. You spun around, jumping at the noise.

“What were you saying?” your friend commented. “I heard that scream.”

“It is the house settling.” you lied. You picked the container off the ground. Your hand passed through Thomas all you noticed was a chill. “All the place needs is a little love.” You wiped off some dust.

“I could tell you better things to do with your inheritance than fix up condemned English manor.” Thomas wrinkled his nose. “Like buying your best friend a motorcycle.”

“Mother always talked about coming here and fixing up the place.” your voice grew quiet. “Restoring it to all its former glory. Before she got sick.” You sniffled.

“Oh love, I’m so sorry. Listen, once you make the place habitable, I will be your first overnight guest. And in the meantime, text me all the spooky things that happen.”

“For the last time, it’s not haunted.”

“There were at least five murders there, sweetie. Of course it’s haunted. Toodles!”

You huffed and pocketed the phone. You stared in Thomas’s direction. He swore you could see him. Until you spoke.

“It’s going to be great, Mom. I promise.” You stomped away, brushing right past Thomas.

-

The days stretched into weeks and Thomas wandered from his workshop more and more. He would float from room to room until he would find you, taking photos, measuring, or marking things down things in a small notebook.

That evening Thomas found you asleep on one of the chaises. There were papers spread out on the floor and the nearby table. Thomas examined the book on your lap. The title read The Sharpes. Thomas frowned. Not a happy tale. Thomas’s family history was filled with failure, fear, and death. As though a curse fell upon the family name. It relieved a part of Thomas the family bloodline died with him and Lucille. A small part.

He grabbed the blanket off the back of the sofa and let it fall onto you. When he moved to place the book on a table, he spied one of your notes scribbled on a scrap of paper. Poor Sir Thomas Sharpe. Manipulated and abused by his sister. Died too young. Thomas stumbled, knocking over a stack of books perched on the edge of the table, jolting you awake.

“Who’s there?” you called out, clutching the blanket you didn’t remember pulling onto you.

Thomas opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself. What would he say? How would you react? Would you even hear him? Instead, he turned and walked through the bookcases to head to the workshop.

You collected your notes and picked up the books before heading up to bed.

-

The priority had been to fix the roof, with colder weather getting ready to set in. You paid through the nose, but the workers completed the work just days ahead of the first snow.

Thomas had been forced from his solitude in the workshop by the workers. He wandered the halls, and he more often than not found himself wherever you are. Just watching and observing. If he weren’t dead, Thomas would swear he was infatuated with you.

“I told you the place is haunted.” your friend commented over the phone.

“Aren’t spirits supposed to be malevolent? Because if I am being haunted by a ghost, it is a friendly ghost.”

“Oh shit, you are being haunted by Casper!” your friend collapsed into giggles.

Thomas was hanging out in the corner, listening in on your conversation.

“I am not being haunted by Casper!” you lowered your voice, as though you realized Thomas was listening in. “I am going to sound crazy, but I think I am being haunted by Sir Thomas Sharpe.”

His head snapped up. “I’m here!” he called out, but you didn’t hear him.

“Sir Thomas Sharpe, the psychotic murderer?!”

“He is not a psycho! Don’t say that!” Thomas floated closer to you. “His sister manipulated him. And he did the right thing in the end.”

Your friend scoffed. “You don’t honestly believe that trash of a book by that crackpot.”

“Lady Edith Sharpe is not a crackpot. Ghosts are real.” You shifted from side to side.

Thomas floated through the wall in anger, knocking down a framed portrait.

“Got to go.” you hung up the phone to rehang the portrait.

-

That night was the anniversary of Thomas’s death. He wasn’t sure why he knew, but he always did. The day always hit him differently. He didn’t wander the halls as usual. Didn’t seek you out. Until he overheard something downstairs late that night.

“DAMN IT!” you threw the letter towards the fireplace but missed; it landed off to the side. You collapsed upon the bed.

Thomas found you sobbing on the bed. His eyes darted around the room to find the source of your anguish, something out of place. He found the letter on the floor.

… I felt it would be too impersonal to send this via text or over the phone, but the fact of the matter is I will not be coming to join you for the holidays. I know I said I love you, but I lied. I was in love with the idea of you. This girl with ambition and drive. And now all you want to talk about is that stupid house and Sir Thomas Sharpe. Honestly, I think you might be in love with a ghost! It is so boring. So I am ending things. And just so you don’t hear it from anyone else first, Cecily and I have taken up together. I know she is your best friend, but she understands me, understands my soul. I hope we can be friends down the line.

Sincerely,

Michael

“I should hang the fucking bastard for such a callous brush off.” Thomas hissed.

You bolted upright. “Who said?” You chased the shadows cast by the fire.

“You can hear me?” Thomas moved to the end of the bed.

“Who is ‘me’?” You narrowed your eyes. “And why are you in my bedroom?”

Thomas closed his eyes and invisible tears welled up. Only they weren’t invisible. The wetness brushed against his cheeks.

“HOLY FUCK!!” you screamed, scrambling from the bed, clamoring towards a corner. You grabbed the nearest object as a weapon. An alarm clock.

Thomas held his hands up, marveling that they were whole. “I will not hurt you. I promise.” He stepped towards you. “Please put it down and I’ll answer your questions.”

You took a long look at the man in front of you, only now noticing the old fashioned clothing and hair. He seemed just as confused as you were at the whole situation. You glanced at the ineffective weapon in your hand and returned it to the nightstand. “Talk.”

Thomas perched himself on the end of the massive four poster bed, original to the home. His long legs stretched in front of him, his boots solid on the rug. “I’m uncertain what powers have allowed you to see me. Perhaps it is the anniversary of my death—”

“Today is the day you died?” You stepped to Thomas’s side and reached out and touched his face. He leaned into your palm. It had been centuries since he had any warmth in his existence. “You seem familiar?”

Thomas regained his composure and straightened himself to his full height. “Sir Thomas Sharpe, Baronet.” He clicked his heels and bowed his head.

“Edith’s husband.” you murmured.

“I am hardly worthy of the title, but yes.” Thomas’s eyes dropped.

You reached out and pulled his chin up as he fidgeted with his fingers. “You saved her life. In her writings, she speaks of you with great fondness.”

Thomas half smiled. “A minor consolation for the monster I was. I am truly what they write about in horror stories. I am certain it was I am doomed to wander these halls for an eternity, contemplating my misdeeds.”

You stepped in front of Thomas, who shifted his position, allowing you to step between his legs. “You judge yourself too harshly, Thomas. I believe Lucille twisted your kind heart and soul for nefarious purposes.” You cupped both of his cheeks in your hands. “I’ve read the journals and the books in the libraries. You are worthy, sir.” Thomas stared at you with crystal clear blue eyes, brimming with tears. To this day, you weren’t sure what came over you, but you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, tentative.

Thomas stiffened for a moment before encircling his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His heart pounding against you, although it wasn’t possible. He inhaled against your mouth and you slid your tongue into his, exploring and needy. Thomas’s hands clawed at your thin t-shirt. He pushed you away, heaving.

“Apologies.” He twisted from you in shame but did not leave.

You smirked. “For someone out of practice for a century and a half, it was a pretty damn good kiss.” You lighted your hands on Thomas’s thighs, which flexed under touch. “I wonder how you are at other…” You licked your lips. “… activities.”

Thomas’s eyes widened. “Such activities would be highly…” His body betrayed his words as his cock twitched within his trousers. “… inappropriate and unorthodox.”

“You’re a ghost, Thomas. This entire conversation is unorthodox.” Your hand slid towards his crotch. “Your cock would seem to have other ideas.”

Thomas gulped. “An involuntary reaction. I assure you I have not spied on you when you have been in any state of undress.”

You clicked your tongue. “That’s a shame.” You kissed Thomas again, more urgent. Your hands palmed him through his trousers and he groaned into your mouth. “Tonight is a gift, Thomas. We shouldn’t squander it.”

“I… I…” He burbled, flustered.

“Stop punishing yourself. You died, Thomas. I think you have been punished enough. For once, do something that makes you happy.” You tugged at his shirt. “Just for one night.”

Thomas contemplated your words for a moment and then lunged toward you with a hunger. He cupped your face as he kissed you, nipping his teeth at your lower lip. The two of you spun around and Thomas walked you towards the bed. You hit the mattress with a soft bounce and Thomas crawled on top of you.

“I have missed the warmth of another.” Thomas growled. “The comfort…”

“That makes two of us.” You pulled his shirt over his head and fumbled with his trousers, yanking at the buttons. Thomas stood up.

“Allow me.” He pushed his trousers to the floor along with the rest of his undergarments, leaving his bare to your ear. Thomas lean and muscled, not what you expected of a baronet. Not that you even knew what a baronet should appear. “Perhaps you may offer me to the same courtesy.” Thomas noted your searing gaze upon his form.

“Right…” You pulled the t-shirt off, dropping it to the floor and shimmying out of your pajama bottoms.

Thomas caged you back against the mattress, catching your lips. His hips pressed against you as your legs fell open to either side. Your arousal slicking against your folds, threatening to soak the bed linens.

“Darling,” Thomas breathed in between sucking along your neck and collarbone. He left dark marks upon your skin. “I need you.”

You nodded, sliding your hand between your bodies, grabbing Thomas’s shaft, tugging on it. Thomas groaned against you as he pushed into you. You moaned and dug your nails into his shoulders, holding on for dear life. As though Thomas would disappear at any moment.

“Yes… please.” you begged, bet it to Thomas or whatever powers that be.

Thomas leaned down to take your nipple into his mouth as he thrusted against you, twisting his hips. You arched your back towards his mouth, savoring every touch, every moment. Thomas released you from his mouth only to give the same treatment to the other. He was delicious.

“I’m close, love.” Thomas’s thrusts faltered. “But I wish for you to have your release as well.” He snaked his hand to find your bundle of nerves and rubbed against it with his thumb.

“Thomas!” you yelled as your orgasm washed over you. Your walls clenched around Thomas and he gasped as he came with one last thrust, spilling inside of you.

He rolled off to your side before moving to leave. You grabbed his hand. “Stay.” One word communicated so much to Thomas.

“I don’t know how long I shall stay in this form.”

“All the more reason. Stay with me. I don’t want to feel alone anymore.” A tear marred your cheek.

Thomas leaned down to kiss your lips with tenderness and wiped away the tear, only to wipe away a tear of his own which fell to your cheek. “Then I shall stay.”

Thomas pulled you close to him, wrapping his arm around your waist. You wiggled into the curve of his body, comforted by his unnatural warmth. You closed your eyes and drifted off at peace. “I will see you in the morning, Thomas.”

He closed his eyes. “One can only hope.”

-

You awoke the next morning to find the bed empty and cold. On the nightstand was a small letter. Your name scrawled on the outside. You unfolded the paper to read the word.

Darling,

As I feared, my mortal state was temporary and I have once again returned to the spirit world. But know that you are not alone. I am here, watching over you, to ensure no harm shall could to you. I can never repay the kindness, comfort, and love you showed me last night. And I can only hope that whatever powers allowed for our coupling last night will see fit to do so again. Until then, I shall remain.

Yours,

Thomas

You glanced around the room for a sign of Thomas. You jumped as the lights flickered. Thomas smiled as you pressed the letter to your chest and tucked it away in a box on the dresser. You took to talking to Thomas as the days went by, asking him about decisions about the house. Thomas would respond, knowing you couldn’t hear him but would cause the lights to flicker or drop a book to signal his answer. About a month afterwards, you missed Thomas more than usual.

“I wish I could kiss you, Thomas. I miss you so.” you sighed, your eyes welled up with tears.

“I wish the same, darling.” Thomas called out.

Your head snapped toward his voice. “Thomas?”

His face lit up as you ran and wrapped your arms around his neck, covering his face in kisses.

“It would appear the powers that be look favorably upon us, love.” Thomas kissed your lips with a passion and fire you had never known. “I suggest we take full advantage of our time together.”

You nodded. Thomas swept you in his arms and carried you up the stairs into the master bedroom. You already tugged at the buttons of his shirt, kissing the bare skin of his neck.

“If you continue in this matter, darling.” Thomas’s eyes sparkled. “I shall be forced to take you here upon the stairs.”

You giggled. “As long as you take me, I do not care.”

Thomas paused and kissed you again, careful not to drop you. “Thank you, darling. For loving me as I am.”

“Thank you. For staying.”

#sir thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe #sir Thomas sharpe fanfiction #sir Thomas sharpe fanfic #thomas sharpe smut #thomas sharpe angst #thomas sharpe fluff #sir thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x reader #crimson peak #crimson peak fanfiction #crimson peak fanfic

[jewels2876]

The Next Mark

A/N: This is my first time writing Thomas Sharpe and I watched a bit of the movie last night to get me in the right mind - I forgot how much ghost stories creep me out! This is for @the-th-horniest-book-club​ for their theme day Sweet Sharpe Saturday

If you’ve seen the movie, I decided to consider what could have happened had the events in Buffalo hadn’t happened as they did

Word Count: 759

No warnings

The air crackled around you; you could feel a pair of eyes on your head but you kept it down. The words on the page were enticing and whoever was trying to get your attention would just have to wait. You turned the page carefully.

A throat cleared and a thigh gently knocked against yours. Annoyed you lifted your eyes over the end of the book, ready to give the person bothering you some choice words. A pair of kind green-grey eyes looked back at you and your breath left you. Your gaze was suddenly riveted on a handsome face, guileless and clear. His long dark hair was combed back, but the ends were still in wild curls. Your right hand suddenly itched to move from its grip and run through those curling hairs. You could feel the heat on your face as he spoke, his words lost in your ears as your gaze dropped to his mouth. A hand to your knee brought everything back into focus.

“Are you alright?” His British accent didn’t surprise you. His eyes raked over you, his hand still resting on your knee. He seemed to notice the contact and pulled his hand back reluctantly. “I apologize for startling you.” The glint in his eye suggested otherwise.

Your brow furrowed as you tried to place this handsome stranger. “May I ask what you want?”

“I was simply looking for a place to sit.” His hand patted the dark red cushion. “You seemed to be enthralled with your reading; I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

Your brow deepened at his small smile. “I don’t believe you,” you murmured. “But no matter, I shall continue reading; it was nice to make your acquaintance.” You relaxed your brow and turned page to the open pages.

“Thomas.” You looked up at him again. His hand stretched out across his lap. “Thomas Sharpe.”

You didn’t want to be rude so you took his hand. “Y/n y/l/n.”

His smile widened slightly as he pulled back his hand, settling deeper into his seat. “Lovely name, y/n. May I ask why you’re headed to New York? My sister and I are headed home.” He nodded shortly; your gaze followed his and you noted the fierce redhead who dipped her head in return.

“You look nothing alike.” You regretted the words that tumbled out but Thomas merely chuckled.

“She looks more like our mother, and I our father,” he explained. You dared another look at the redhead before turning back to Thomas.

“My mother died in childbirth with my younger brother; I don’t remember if I look like her or not anymore.” Your voice dropped to a whisper; remembering her awakened the heartache you had stamped down so long ago. Thomas sensed your mood shifting and ran his thumb over your knuckles. The touch thrilled and scared you. “Are your parents with you as well?”

Thomas shook his head. “They died some years ago. We’re here trying to find investors for our ancestral home.” You looked at him blankly. “We sit on a deposit of red clay and wish to mine as much as we can. It seems to be a key factor in newer buildings that are going up.”

You tilted your head slightly to the left, thinking. “You have no investors now?”

Thomas shook his head again. “We were just up in Buffalo and failed. So we are making our way home.” His gaze flitted back to your face, another smile teasing at the corners of his lips. “You aren’t by any chance a wealthy heiress that wishes to humor a man, are you?”

It was your turn to offer the tease of a smile. “Maybe I am?”

Thomas sat up a tad straighter; even from a distance Lucille could tell her brother had found a willing victim. Thomas leaned to his right, his hand moved up your arm; Lucille felt the bile rise in her throat.

You leaned into Thomas’s space, closing the distance between the two of you. “I’m surprised you didn’t react to the last name I gave you. We were well known for our…”

“Ah yes,” Thomas grinned. “I apologize for not making the connection sooner. Might I interest you in a drink? Coffee or tea? And we can talk more about your new investment?” 

“Tea please.” Thomas signaled for the cart. Lucille followed behind the cart carefully as she carefully dipped into her hand under her dress, looking for the poison she cultivated. My brother certainly does his job well.

#sir thomas sharpe #the th hbc #sweetsharpesaturday #thomas sharpe x reader #crimson peak #thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe fanfic #sir thomas sharpe fanfiction #thomas sharpe fanfiction

[laufeyamp]

Thomas Sharpe x Reader where the reader is an opera singer who Thomas ends up falling in love with and courts her. Lucille tries to put a stop to things but Thomas ignores her and proposes to the reader who says yes.

A Definite Answer

SUMMARY. ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- falling in love with a man who has one of the most complicated background and nasty past mistakes was definitely not something you’ve expected. But we don’t choose who do we love, do we? PAIRING. thomas sharpe x gender neutral reader WORD COUNT. 0.817k THIS WORK CONTAINS fluff

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"Do you trust me?" instead of answering the questions you’ve just asked regarding to his strange request, the question he had always needed an answer to spilled without faltering. “I-” you didn’t know what to say, truth to be told.

Everything is just going way too fast and you weren’t certain if this is a safe ride and what’s best for the both you. A month ago, you noticed how his eyes lingered on you rather differently among the crowd of audience as you put an end to your opera performance of the night, how he stood from his seat, clapping his hands along with the rest in the most graceful and elegant way. Three weeks ago, he crashed his lips against yours without further hesitation at the backstage, stealing your first kiss smoothly just a minute before your next performance begins. Two weeks ago, he opened up about everything he’s done in the past. His rich, deceased wives he’s wooed for the past few years only to be murdered by his own sister and to claim their assets. And not to mention, the incestuous relationship he has been sharing with his sister since childhood. A day ago, he’d went down on one knee, pulling a brand new ring out of his pocket, swearing on his life that he’ll look after you, and to provide you nothing but your deserving happiness, peace, love and comfort until his last breath underneath the light of a million stars. A minute ago, he rushed into your room hurriedly, his breath ragged from all of the running just to inform you to pack your luggage and that he had bought train tickets to France that were setting off this evening. And at this second, he was questioning whether you trust him or not with your hands in his, his ocean orbs fixed on yours, seeking for any hint of rejection he feared.

The speed and perfection in this love the both of you shared brought uncertainty and queries, leading you to second guess everything you’ve had ever since the second you laid eyes on this man. Is he worth the trouble, the effort and time you’ve poured into your career and your entire life? 31 days wasn’t enough time for you to come to a conclusion and determine the perfect choice, along with a definite answer he deserved. There was too much that needed to be taken into consideration and the quick pace wasn’t helping at all.

But as a matter of fact, you do trust this English baronet with high aspirations, Sir Thomas Sharpe, whole heartedly and unconditionally. It truly doesn’t matter to you respecting the mistakes and wrongs he’s done in the past, how many times he’s been married or what sort of sick and twisted relationship he used to share with his biological sister, Lucille Sharpe, in which he had been nothing but utterly honest about. Love, a phrase that had never meant anything more than four simple letters to you before Thomas' presence which granted it a definition, had managed to blind all of his tragic flaws, allowing you to discern the beauty, innocence and kindness whenever his lips curves into the loveliest smile. Yet for some reason, your lips just couldn’t form those simplest words your heart was aching to speak, the sentence you knew would have the rest of his life tied with yours for forever, both dead and alive.

Just as the last glimpse of hope in his eyes was about to die down, he felt his palm graze against something in your hand, causing him to look down. He removed his thumb from the back of your hand to reveal the object, his fingers still underneath your palm, holding you gently. “The ring-” he couldn’t help but gasp at what he’s seeing, his heart skipped a beat as he dragged his thumb across the ring wrapped around your finger carefully. Of course, the ring. Watching your jaw dropped and your fingers fidgeting nervously at the night he made his lifelong promise, a soft smile curled on his thin lips as he stood back up, taking a firm hold of your hands. He placed the new ring, unlike the ruby garnet ring he used to propose his wives, on the palm of your hand, closing your fingers. “I wish to see it around your finger when you’re ready.” These words managed to have you wrapped around his finger, you found yourself switching countless sleeping postures, unable to fall asleep that night although it was already way past your usual bedtime. Therefore, you lighted the candle on the wooden table next to your bed, opening the drawer in attempt to take the ring you’ve been given with permission to keep, your mind debating whether to wear it or not. “Does this answers your question?” you chuckled at the sight of his widened eyes staring down at the little handcuff which proves your everlasting connection, the way he held your hands in his rugged ones ever so tenderly.  Thomas wrapped his arms around your figure, the happiest grin spread across his lips as he nuzzled his nose against your shoulder with his eyes closed.  “Tonight. Tonight, our new life begins.”

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SYD .ೃ࿐ Reblogs and interactions are greatly appreciated, thank you for reading.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fanfiction #thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x you #crimson peak #sir thomas sharpe

[shiningloki]

Trials Of Pleasure - NEW FIC COMING SOON!

Trials Of Pleasure - New Fic Preview

(LOKI X READER / PRINCE HAL X READER / SIR THOMAS SHARPE X READER / CAPTAIN JAMES CONRAD X READER / DOCTOR ROBERT LAING X READER / ADAM X READER / JONATHAN PINE X READER)

You want Loki. You always have. You admire his magic. You crave the power he can give you. But most of all, you want to be his pleasure slave. You want to be the one he fucks every day.

After years of unsuccessfully trying to summon Loki, you turn to dark magic. It works and you manage to forcefully bring Loki to you. He’s impressed by your dedication and talent but angered at the way you summoned him. For that reason, Loki is going to make you prove that you are worth all of this trouble. He’s going to see just how willing you are to submit to him and his sexual desires. To do that, he’s going to put you through a series of trials to see if you have what it takes to be his student and his toy.

Your mission is to deliver pleasure to Loki’s “friends” throughout history. You’ll have to find them, please them, fuck them. 

Who are they? The Prince. The Baronet. The Soldier. The Doctor. The Musician. The Spy. 

Loki will send you to the time periods, you’ll just need to find them. Will you be able to survive the peril that comes with searching down these men? Can you give them enough pleasure to prove to Loki that you are worthy of being the woman who warms his bed? Or will you get lost in the timelines without your magic and without a way back home?

Master List

~ ~ ~

My newest chaptered fic is here! Starting one week from now, “Trials Of Pleasure” will premiere on AO3! It’s full of smut, smut, and, well, more smut!! 

Below is a snippet from chapter 1! If you’re interested in being added to the tag list for this fic, just let me know!! Enjoy this little preview and I can’t wait to share this wonderfully smutty adventure with you all!

A preview from Chapter 1: The Spell:

“You, my naughty witch, have severely messed up. You went against the laws of magic in order to bring me here. You must pay for it,” Loki said, stepping back into your personal space. You stepped backwards but he continued to tower over you. “You brought me here so you could learn magic from me, and goodness, be a little sex slave to me. Fine, you can have that, but you have to earn it.”

“Earn it? How?” you asked with wide eyes.

“Easy. I will not just accept any whore to enter into my bed, especially for an extended period of time as you are hoping for. You have to prove that you are capable of delivering pleasure,” Loki explained with a wave of his hand, still wet from your juices. “I have...friends scattered throughout history, men who are good comrades of mine who will determine whether or not you are good enough to be my toy. I can determine your strength as a student, and considering you’ve mastered dark magic enough to force me, the Master Sorcerer into your room, you are extremely talented. But they can help me figure out if your body will be just as valuable as your brains to me. Please them, and I will accept you as mine.”

“Friends? Men throughout history? What does that even mean? How -”

Loki grabbed your face with one large hand. “Do you want this? A life under my wing? A life in my bed? A life with me?”

“Yes,” you said quickly, completely sure of your answer.

“Good. Then this challenge will certainly be exciting. Now, in order to stop you from trying to escape my trials…” Loki moved his hand to your chest and made a grasping motion with his fist. He pulled his fist back and you felt something leave your body. In his fist was a trail of green light. 

“What did you do?” you gasped.

“I took your magic,” Loki said with a shrug. He made a complex movement with his hands and the green light he had stolen from you disappeared. “Pleasure my men and you will get it back. Fail and you will never see me nor your magic ever again.”

You stiffened, terrified of what was about to happen. What would Loki do to you? He was right. You had definitely messed up. The Master of Magic knew you used forbidden magic and now he was punishing you for it through a test of pleasure. But you knew you had to prove him wrong. You had to show him that you wanted him enough to endure his trials and come out victorious. You wanted him. You would have him. You wanted to be his student, his slave, his. You lifted your head and gave him a determined look.

“What do I have to do?” you asked.

“Find my men. Fuck them. Please them. Make me see that it’s worth it to take you in,” Loki explained. He grabbed your arm and pressed two fingers to the inside of your forearm. There was a glimmer and a golden tattoo etched its way onto your skin. You quickly recognized it as Loki’s insignia. He hummed and stroked his thumb over the tattoo. “There. That will help you find them, or rather, help them find you.”

~ ~ ~

“Trials Of Pleasure” will debut on AO3 on December 19th. To be added to the tag list, send me a message, an ask, a comment, or state your interest in a reblog.

#tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston #loki x reader #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki smut #loki #loki (marvel) #loki (mcu) #prince hal #doctor robert laing #jonathan pine #adam #sir thomas sharpe #captain james conrad #kong: skull island #only lovers left alive #crimson peak #high rise #the night manager #the hollow crown #loki laufeyson #loki odinson

[sassanoe]

Love at first fright - Thomas Sharpe

Masterlist

-Is a slight Marvel crossover. The main character is the younger sister of Tony Stark, the only real crossover with this.-

Thomas and Lucille Sharpe have been dead for over 100 years. Allerdale Hall had been untouched all this time. Though now there is a young woman who bought the house, unknowing of the ghost that will come with it. She is a smart, independent woman who just wanted a side project and a break from her busy life. Well, she will be getting a break, just not the kind she hoped.

The flight to Allerdale Hall took forever.“Tony, did you have to come with me?” She said, “Well, your suit I mean.” She huffed not liking that her brother sent his suit with her. “I am not a child anymore, it's an old house. What, do you think a ghost will bully me?” She sassed the suit. “No, this just helps me to feel better, should something happen you will be safe.” He responded with just as much an attitude as his sister. “I am also sending the suit so that no men bother you. You are twenty-two, a Stark, and a billionaire, little sister. I don’t exactly want anything to happen to you. Who else will yell at me?” She giggled “Literally everyone, Tony.” “It’s not the same little sister.” He chuckled. “I’ll call you later, I’m pulling into the drive now. Looks like a crime scene, here.” “Well stay safe, I love you.” “I love you too, Tony.” She smiled and hung up.

Thomas stood looking out the window at the path leading to the house. A strange contraption coming up with a woman with strange clothing getting out of the said contraption. He hoped she wasn’t coming in here, but he knew she was. Lucille will not be happy with a woman in the house. He watched as she pulled out a key then the main doors opened. He floated down to watch quietly as the young woman walked in “F.R.I.D.A.Y. Do a scan of the house and area, please. I would like to have a blueprint of the house.” A metal man came flying in going through the whole house scanning everything. Before it came back and landed next to the mystery woman again. “Miss Stark, everything has been scanned as well I sent the information to your brother.” “Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”  Thomas stayed in the shadows watching quietly.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., how long will it take to restore the home with some tech improvement?" She asked, "Should take but a month using the equipment we came with." The metal thing responded. "Perfect." Taking off her jacket, she set it on the arm of the suit. She looked around them and smiled "A perfect project. My bags, please."  Thomas smiled slightly, she was very pretty though her clothes were strange. The suit went out to retrieve her things, then followed her up the stairs. He followed behind quietly as she kept walking until she selected a room. He watched as she started to clean it with the help of the A.I. She smiled and started pulling open drawers.

 "Thomas Sharpe." He froze. Did she know he was there, waiting for anything else he went closer to see she found his diary. "Must be the former owner of the house. F.R.I.D.A.Y. search Thomas Sharpe. I wish to know as much about the owner. It will possibly help in restoring the home to its former glory." She handed his diary to the metal man. It scanned through everything in the diary, as she went about her business. 

"Thomas Sharpe, 34 years of age, engineer, industrialist, the previous owner of Allerdale Hall. His diary reads that he was sexually involved with his sister, who killed their mother, along with killing his previous wives. They would steal his wife's money then move to the next one. His sister and he had a child that was born wrong, resulting in its death. He fell in love with a woman named Edith Cushing. He is also the creator of the machine outside. Do you wish to fix that as well?" Thomas was shocked, how had the metal thing known all of these things and read his diary. "Poor man," She sighed "Yes, I wish to fix the machine, maybe get it running better. As well, would you start repairing the home's pipes and such, along with adding better electricity, so that I will be able to charge you?" "Yes, Miss Stark." The metal man left. Thomas was shocked as all the young woman had to say was, poor man. 

“This was Thomas’s room then. I'll need to get F.R.I.D.A.Y. to order me a new mattress, bedding, and the bathroom also needs to be fixed. I didn't know the house would need this much love and care, but it will be worth it." She turned and put one of the boxes on the bed and started going through it before she started to pull off her top. Thomas looked away quickly, positive if he was still alive he would be red in the face. She walked through him to the dresser and he was even more shocked. She had on the smallest of shorts and a top that left barely anything to the imagination. Surely that was her undergarments. The metal thing came back into the room. "Y/N Y/M/N Stark!"

She groaned "Yes?" "What the hell do you think you're doing? Why didn't you make sure there was running water and such already there?" Thomas looked at the metal man confused, it sounded different now. "Because I am hard-headed much like my older brother." The metal man was her brother? There was a huff, "I'm sending my other suits to fix the house in a week you will leave then come back." "Dammit, Tony!" Thomas smiled slightly, such vulgar language for a woman. "As your older brother, I would feel better about it." She huffed "Fine, but I want to stay." "Deal." 

The metal man then left the room again. The woman he now knew as Y/N walked back down to the library. He watched as Lucille came from the darkness in the corner, as Y/N took a seat at the piano. "Leave her alone," Thomas growled to his sister. "What do you love her?" Lucille glared at him as Y/N started playing the piano. "She will not have what is mine!" Lucille yelled. Thomas broke a vase to try and make Y/N leave, but she just glanced then went back to playing. Lucille started to make the chandelier shake and fall. Thomas quickly tackled Y/N to the ground out of the way protecting her. Y/N screamed and then everything was quiet. He glared at Lucille before looking to Y/N. She was looking at him in shock. "W-Who are you?" She asked softly, scanning her eyes over his face. Lucille started to make her way towards them, Thomas quickly helped her up and brought her to her room before disappearing again. Y/N stood there shocked. "There is a ghost." She said quietly.

A week had passed, the house was in perfect condition thanks to her brother, and no ghost was to be seen. Walking back to her room she huffed she had been looking for him all day. "I can only assume you are watching me. I'm not scared. Honestly, I just wish to talk. Please?" She huffed and threw herself onto the bed. "I wonder, are you Sir Thomas Sharpe?" No response, she huffed and got up.

Unbeknownst to her, Thomas was in the room sitting on the end of the bed next to her. Over the week, he had learned many things about her and found himself falling in love. She was intelligent, and held her ground against her brother. She would tinker with all of his inventions, making them better. The thing he had come to love most was that she spoke to him even when she questioned if he was listening. She would read aloud, ask his opinion only to receive no answer. He thought it cute when she would call out that she was going to bathe or change and tell him he better not look.

He followed as she went to the attic. He never understood why she didn't have it fixed. She sat on the chair up there. Lucille hated it every time he came up here with her. "What is she doing in our room." Lucille snapped to Thomas, "Lucille, leave-" "Thomas?" The voice was soft, making him look to the woman in the chair. "You keep defending and protecting her! It can't simply be because she is alive. You love her, but you should only love me, Thomas!" Lucille growled at him. "What? Do you wish to fuck her too!" Thomas continued to ignore his sister.

"Would it be so hard for me to see you? Just once more, please?" Y/N said softly, "I truly wish to thank you for saving me. You didn't have to, but you did." Once again, she got no response. Walking over to the things on the table she gently ran her fingers across the top of the bed. "I am going to assume something major happened here."

Lucille looked to Thomas "Make her leave, or I will. I am sick of her calling your name. Speaking to you as if she loves you. She will never love you, because you are dead. I love you Thomas and that is enough." 

Y/N looked around and thought of everything F.R.I.D.A.Y. told her. She sighed something about the attic just gave her a weird feeling that was why she left it but she sighed. "This will be the next to go then." She walked through Thomas and Lucille going back down to her room. Everything in the home had been updated now having a slightly modern feel to it, because of this she was able to see what he looked like. Having read his diary and his journals for his machines she found she was intrigued by this man. She laid in the bed with a frown. "Your sister murdered you."

"She did." Y/N jumped out of her spot staring at him. "Thomas?" He nodded, and she smiled brightly. "Have you been watching over me?" He nodded again. "Oh please speak again. I would love to hear your voice." He smiled at that, "What is it you wish to hear?" She sat back on the bed with the brightest of smiles, asking him all her questions. He stayed answering every single one. Laying with her when it started to get late. She spoke to him of her brother and how she was sure the two would get along.

Months had passed, and the two had only grown closer. With their growing close, Thomas started to look like his human self. Though he was still very much a ghost. They would read together, cook, bake, and Y/N would show him how modern technology works. He learned she was a businesswoman and she learned he was not the murderer he seemed to think himself as. But, as their friendship and love grew, so did Lucille's jealousy. Many times Y/N was saved by Thomas from his sister. When they shared their first kiss Lucille ruined it.

Thomas and Y/N had been in the kitchen. She was dancing around the kitchen with him as they waited for her cookies to bake. Both seemed utterly happy. Her timer went off and Thomas was just not letting her go. She smiled and laughed struggling. "Thomas stop." She giggled breaking away. "Never." He smiled, grabbing her around the waist pulling her close. She looked up at him smiling before throwing flour in his face making her laugh hard. "Now you look as I had first seen you." He returned the favor, throwing some at her. She took the cookies out quickly before the two had continued to play around. Running around the island, he disappeared making her look around frantically.

 "Thomas?" She questioned quietly before she had flour dumped all over her. "Thomas! How could you!" She gasped before smirking and hugging him rubbing up on him returning the favor making him covered in flour. He hugged her tight so she couldn't move, making her smile. They both stared into each other's eyes leaning forward sharing a soft kiss. The room started to get colder and Thomas pulled away quickly looking to find Lucille. Right before she threw the knife Thomas pushed Y/N out of the way.

Ever since that day anything Y/N and Thomas started whether it is kissing or touching of any form something happened. "Thomas, darling. I am sick and tired of your sister. I can't even kiss you. This has been going on for months." Y/N sighed, taking a seat on the bed. Thomas frowned, "I know, and I'm sorry." She went to say something more before the A.I. went off speakers having been made into every room. "Miss Stark, your brother had received a book from Wanda for you regarding your situation, and it has arrived." She perked up "Lovely." "Darling what did you need a book for?" She looked to Thomas, "One to make you a physical and living man for but a few hours a day, along with a protection spell."

Later the same night had the two done the two spells granting Thomas life from dawn till dusk. The other spell simply being a protection spell in their room. No other worldly beings or ghosts will be able to bother them whilst the spell was in effect. "Are we sure this worked?" Thomas asked as she got up. "We are about to find out." He watched her confused as she opened the bedroom door before coming back over and pushing him onto the bed and kissing him.

He pulled away slightly, "Darling, why did you open the door?" She grinned, "I'm laying my claim." He still looked slightly confused and she continued. "If the protection spell worked your sister can't enter the bedroom. So I want to make love to you." His eyes widened, "You want her to see?" He asked, shocked "What if she hurts you once you leave the room?" Y/N smiled softly "Then we just won't be leaving the room." She smiled, making him smile in turn and kiss her.

#crimson peak #crimson peak imagine #crimson peak fanfiction #crimson peak one shot #crimson peak x reader #thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe imagine #thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe fanfiction #thomas sharpe one shot #tom #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #sir thomas sharpe #imagine #x reader #one shot

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

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.

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

❆ 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

[that-little-zebunny]

The Moth’s Fire

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Warning: A little fluffy daz all :’>

Note: This is my entry for @the-th-horniest-book-club​ day 21 of LUCKY IN LOVE with the word Prestige as prompt. Hope you like this.

You're doomed. Late again to another McMichael's ball. You're surely going to hear a lot from Eunice. She'll be talking endless again how she had let you in their elegant event because she was kind enough to do so and you have the nerve to be late. In your defense thought you got yourself hooked to another great book lend to you by Edith.

You like Edith more she's genuinely nice unlike the McMichael's who's only tolerating you because your family owns the city's finest clothing empire.

Which means they always had to fight tooth and nails just to be able to purchase a cloth for their ball gowns from your stores if not they'll be wearing second best. That's why even if you don’t fit their kind of friends to be with you're always invited.

You rather not attend to be honest but your mother would be furious so here you are. Wearing a beautiful red and black ball gown made of course by you family's designer you stealthily sneaked in the already crowded ballroom.

You can hear a beautiful melody playing seems like the dancing already began which is good news for you. You'll just have to wait for Eunice to brag about her new conquest and you can finally go back home to your books.

Fascinated by the beautiful music you tried to walk towards the center and walked near Allan when you saw him. You tugged on his sleeves making your presence known. He looked down at you his face turning bright as he smiled.

"Y/N! Glad to know you're able to join us." He winked knowing this is torture to you. You just pouted in response and peaked at his side to give a polite greeting to Mr. Cushing, Edith's Father.

Your eyes finally went in the two couple dancing gracefully in the middle with a lit candle in on of their clasped hands. You're amazed how the candle stayed burning with all the movements they made.

You couldn't take your eyes away from them, specially the beautiful man leading the dance as if he invented it. Their dance ended and you couldn't help but clap your hands in amazement especially when you realizes it was your friend Edith dancing. How you wish you could dance that way.

Edith turned towards his father and saw you. Her face turn brighter as you waved at her. She said something at the man she was dancing with which made him look towards you making you gasp as his eyes met yours. You shivered as you took in his beautiful green eyes. God, this man is made to make the ladies fall on his feet.

You didn't know what to do as his gaze stayed glued on your face while Edith was walking towards you. Your heart is beating wildly. You never really get noticed by the men in this event. You're too plain for their liking except the money that comes with your name.

"Y/N, I'm so glad to see you here!" Edith greeted you kissing your cheeks. "I didn't see you when I got here so I thought you tried to skip again." You both laugh at how true that is. You've tried to skip attending this events but fails as you mother always have a sharp sense of when you're planning on doing so.

"You know I can never outsmart Mother." You said.

"That is true." She said smiling warmly at you.

"You dance so wonderfully, Edith. I'm the one shocked that you attended." You said. You might not be able to skip this balls but Edith can. Her father is a really nice man.

"I was planning to but I'm smoothly brought here." She answered smiling as she look at the tall man she was dancing earlier. He's currently talking to an equally stunning lady in red gown. They were talking in a hushed way and then started walking towards your way.

"Edith, thank you for allowing me to dance with you." The man said. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his voice. Does he not have anything that makes him less attractive?

"It is. Been a while since I last danced." She said blushing a little. Your stomach turned upside down. Edith likes the man... You won’t have a chance.

"Well because it’s been a while since you attended a Ball." You awkwardly said. Edith giggled in acknowledgement of what you've said.

"-and who's this lovely friend of yours?" The man said his eyes run up and down your form as if trying to take everything in.

"Oh this is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s a dear friend of mine." Edith said, introducing you to the two stranger.

The man offered a hand and you gave yours in response. He held it and brought it to his lips kissing the top. His lips lingered longer than necessary, eyes locked on yours making you feel your face heating up.

"It is lovely to meet you Lady Y/L/N. I am Thomas Sharpe Baronet and this is my sister Lucille Sharpe." You greeted Lucille, she kissed both of your cheeks and praised your gown.

"Yours are beautiful too." You said. You can tell that it was handmade meticulously but is aged already. She's surprised by your observations. Her sharp gaze made you nervous. Luckily Eunice came by but a minute after her arrival you instantly regretted it. She tried her best to talk down about you. You’ve met Edith’s eyes lots of time knowing what Eunice is doing.

You’ve learned that Sir Thomas Sharpe and His sister are the McMichael’s special guess and you’ve taken both of their attentions and she doesn’t like that. You can also see their mother shooting daggers at you from afar.

Deciding that you’ve been there enough you said your good byes to your friends and new acquaintances. You walked towards the exit of the McMichael estate and was about to open the double door when you heard the same silky voice called your name. You turned to find Sir Thomas Walking towards you hurriedly.

“How can I be of help Sir Thomas?” You asked curious as to why he chased you all this way.

“My Sister and I are planning to going on a stroll in the park tomorrow. Would you like to join us?” He asked looking at you pleadingly with his beautiful but mysterious eyes. Biting your lower lips as you think of what answer to give him but your curiosity won over you and you nodded making a head spinning smile curve on his lips.

You gave him your address telling him you’ll be expecting them there at the time he told you. You bid your goodbye but before you’re able to turn around and leave he bend down making your heart beats wildly in your chest.

“I am so glad to have meet you tonight, Lady Y/N” He said as he place a kiss at the side of your lips.

“A-as do I.” you answered. Turning around so fast you felt light headed you walk away from him hand touching the side of your lips that his touched. Is this for real? Are you truly experiencing what the ladies in your novels felt whenever they met their forever? You cannot wait for the morning to come.

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#HBC #hbc lucky in love #the th hbc #thomas sharpe imagine #thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe fan fiction #sir thomas sharpe #fan fiction #crimson peak fanfiction #thomas sharpe x you #thomas sharpe fluff #zephirahnyxwrites

[frostbitten-written]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Crimson Peak (2015), Crimson Peak (2015) RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death Relationships: Thomas Sharpe/You, Thomas Sharpe/Original Female Character(s), Thomas Sharpe/Reader, Thomas Sharpe & Original Female Character(s), Thomas Sharpe/Original Character(s), Thomas Sharpe & Reader, Thomas Sharpe & Original Character(s), Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character(s), Tom Hiddleston & Reader, Tom Hiddleston/You, Tom Hiddleston/Reader Characters: Thomas Sharpe, Lucille Sharpe, Tom Hiddleston, Reader, Original Characters, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Actor Tom Hiddleston, Inspired by Crimson Peak (2015), Crimson Peak (2015) Spoilers, Alternate Universe - Crimson Peak (2015) Fusion, Post-Crimson Peak (2015), Character Death, Blood, Night Terrors, Ghosts, Haunted Houses, Haunting, Deja Vu, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Drowning, Talking To Dead People, Stabbing, Sex, Loss of Virginity, Virginity, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Love at First Sight, Married Couple, Married Sex, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Finger Sucking, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Love, Unrequited Love, Grief/Mourning, Crying, ghost thomas sharpe - Freeform

This was written as a part of @jtargaryen18​ ‘s Haunted House 2020! Sorry, I took so long, Jamie, but I finally finished it!!!

Summary: 

Sylvia Sullivan and Thomas Sharpe are wed and reside in Allerdale Hall. How long will it take for Sylvia to uncover its secrets and will it be too late for her?

Preview:

She stopped to take in the ambience of the house. It was eerily quiet, and it was still dark. The staircase almost looked like sharp teeth to her. It spiralled down to the ground floor, resembling the pit of an abyss.

All of a sudden, she saw movement in the corner of her eye.

“It’s nothing and no one is home but Thomas and me. It’s just me and Thomas,” she reminded herself in a shaky whisper.

“He’s asleep and I’m awake. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

There was a loud groan that came from the heart of the house that made her jump.

“Wrong, little girl. This house is very much awake and you have everything to be afraid of!”

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[mostly-marvel-musings]

No 2 from the prompts along with a mix of 2 and 4 (horror setting) if you can, with Sir Thomas Sharpe pleaseee?!

Help

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Warnings: 18+ mention of physical abuse, flangst.

Prompts used: Abandoned house.

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @suchababie @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @ladyburberry @chickensarentcheap @dontmindmyname123 @old-enough-to-know-better73 @buendiabebeta @princess-jules47

.

You were running.

Running away from the man who had vowed to be your lawfully wedded husband, from the man you had fallen in love with years ago, the man who broke every vow, every promise he’d made.

The man who was a monster in disguise of a fine gentleman.

You ran as fast as your feet would take you, until your sides were hurt, and your lungs were on fire. The forest seemed to stretch on forever, dense trees whizzing by in a blur as your feet continued their journey.

Vision distorted, you could make out a silhouette of a large mansion as the trees thinned out, moonlight bathing every bit of surface in its gleaming silver light. There wasn’t another house in sight, and you were desperate for shelter.

And so you decided to try your luck and go in, praying that whoever was inside were kinder than the men in your life.

The front door was left ajar, it was a dusty foyer that led to a parlour illuminated by candlelight.

“Hello? Is anyone home?” You called out, still a little winded from your run, voice shaky and unsure as your eyes took in the ornate paintings and family portraits adorning the walls, the grand piano that sat in a corner covered with cobwebs.

Turning around, you were startled as a rather tall man approached, surprisingly quiet as you hadn’t heard him walk in.

His handsome features were enhanced in the amber glow of the candles, jet black hair, sharp nose and sharper cheekbones, and the softest blue eyes you had ever come across. Dressed impeccably, he looked every bit the perfect Englishman you had ever met.

This man looked beautiful.

“I apologise for startling you, Miss. I am Thomas Sharpe, is there anything I can help you with?”

His velvety smooth voice was enough to calm your senses, he offered a kind smile that momentarily made you forget your woes. Something about him was enigmatic and yet you felt like you could trust him with your life.

“I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and I am so sorry to intrude, I was running through the forest and stumbled upon this house—your house. To put it in simple words, I am running from my husband, he is a traitor, an evil man out to take my life because I found out about his dirty secret. I do not wish to burden you with details of my horrific life, Mr Sharpe, but I merely ask for a corner to spend this night in. I will be gone before the first rays of the sun hit, I promise.”

You brushed the tears that had formed in your eyes away and looked away, preparing to get thrown out as Thomas Sharpe remained silent.

“It would be cruel of me to not offer you shelter after what you have been through, Lady (Y/N). I am terribly sorry for what happened and you do not have to tell me anything that you do not wish to. If you would follow me upstairs, there is a spare room complete with a bed for you to rest.”

His eyes almost pleaded for you, recognizing your hesitation at once and reassuring you that you were safe here. You thanked him for being so generous and followed him up the stairs quietly, wincing as a sharp pain went through your leg.

“Are you injured?”

The man stopped and turned to you with concerned eyes, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I might be, I paid no attention to it, I had to get out of the place as quickly as I could. Nothing to worry about, I will manage, Mr. Sharpe.”

“Allow me to take a look, you might be bleeding and please call me Thomas.”

He led you inside yet another large space, promptly lighting candles all around letting you see the room decorated with antiques, a fireplace and a large four poster bed.

“Your house is lovely.”

“It is dusty and dilapidated, you are far too kind.” Thomas smiled, gesturing you to take a seat on the bed before he turned around to give you privacy.

“Where does it hurt?”

He asked quietly, waiting as you peeled your dress up, revealing a large cut across your ankle that was bleeding and another wound that had turned a nasty blue and black you had endured back in your home.

“Its a small cut on my ankle, its bleeding but like I said, should be better in the morning. Please don’t bother—”

By the time you could finish, Thomas was already by your side, kneeling beside your leg that was injured.

“May I?”

You nodded, not wanting to turn down those baby blues that bore into you, sleep and exhaustion tugging at your eyelids as they grew heavy.

He pulled out a handkerchief from his coat pocket and wrapped it around your ankle, careful not to hurt you in any way before running his fingers over the bandaged part that grew warmer, almost as if it was healing already.

“Are you hungry, Lady (Y/N)? I could bring you some soup if you want.”

“Oh no, you’ve been of great help already, I would hate to be a bother.”

“You have had a long and hard day, my dear. I will get you some food and then you will rest for as long as you wish to. Do not worry, you are safe here.”

You sighed, believing him whole-heartedly as you smiled back genuinely after what had felt like days, nodding as Thomas returned down the stairs quietly to fetch you some food.

.

You couldn’t remember what awoke you in the night, but when your eyes opened, the blanket that covered you was flung on the ground. Moonlight streamed through the large windows in the room leaving an eerie glow to your surroundings.

Instinctively you checked on your ankle as you sat up against the cushions, shocked to find no blood stains on the handkerchief that Thomas had wrapped around it. It didn’t hurt either, it had healed completely.

Walking over to the huge French windows that overlooked the forest, you placed a hand on the glass and peered out. Not a draft of blowing breeze and yet it felt so cold, you wrapped your arms around yourself and retraced your day, not realising you had company.

You recalled the rage-filled argument you had with your husband that led him to slap you across your face so hard, you fell face-first on the chaise behind, how he had kicked you to the ground after you refused to keep your mouth shut.

Before you knew it, tears were streaming down your cheeks and you let out a sniffle that made Thomas clear his throat, making you jump yet again.

“Forgive me my dear, I was only checking in to see if you were okay.”

Wiping your tears away hurriedly, you gave him an unconvincing smile before staring back out the window.

“You’re awfully quiet when you walk. You came all the way here just to check if I was alright?”

Staring at his feet, Thomas said nothing, blaming himself for scaring you, hating himself for not being to leave you alone in peace.

Truth was, he needed to know you were safe, needed to see you sleeping soundly to admire your beautiful features in the moonlight.

“Would that be so alarming? I’d want you to be safe under my watch.”

His earnest reply touched your heart, given the condition you were in, it brought fresh tears to your eyes which you did not bother to wipe this time.

“Of course, I’m just—not used to it.”

“What went wrong? If you don’t mind my asking..” he prodded gently, gesturing you towards a chair that was right next to you. Thomas kept his eyes trained on you as you sat, his soft, kind smile encouraging you to speak out.

"My parents got me married at an early age because it was convenient, to put it simply. My husband made no efforts to keep his new bride happy, I poured all of mine in trying to love a man who wasn't in this marriage at all."

You stood up once more, walking over to the window, placing your hand against the cold glass and looking far into the woods.

"One night he came home, reeking of alcohol and the scent of another woman...didn't even try to hide it. When I tried confronting him, he didn’t…take it too well.”

Unknowingly your hand went over your abdomen where your husband had kicked you all those days ago. Thomas was filled with rage for the man responsible for your state but he kept quiet, listening to everything you were willing to share.

“I was silenced in every way possible, until today. I broke through the window of my bedroom where kept me locked in and escaped in the woods, ran for my life until I stumbled upon this place, you.”

“I was a fool.”

You added with a whisper, voice cracking at the end as tears streamed down your face. Thomas stepped closer to pull you into his embrace, no longer able to control the urge to comfort you.

You melted into his touch, feeling safer than you had ever been, safe enough to let the sobs wrack your body knowing he was there to hold you.

“Hush now, my darling. You aren’t a fool for expecting the love you deserve. You have suffered enough. It’s okay…I’ve got you now. You’re safe.”

His hushed whispers and soothing touches, words of comfort calmed your palpitating heart to an erratic but steady beat.

You had met Thomas Sharpe just a few hours ago and yet he had managed to bandage your wounds, both physical and emotional in that short span.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed in his embrace, a part of you wished it could be just for a little while longer before you pulled away reluctantly.

Thomas caressed your face tenderly, moving the strands of hair that had escaped as his blue eyes bore into yours, searching, before steadily moving down to your parted lips and making your heart skip a beat.

The way your eyes closed in bliss gave him the answer he seeked to touch your lips with his, so delicately, you thought you’d dreamt it. A gentle brush of skin against skin was enough to make your heart flutter, something you had forgotten it could do.

You wanted more, and by the looks of it, so did Thomas. You felt a smile on your lips as you boldly took the initiative to deepen the kiss. Tongue peeking out to trace the soft depths and lines of his lips, before he welcomed it and allowed you to taste and explore.

Allowing yourself that moment of letting go of your inhibitions before becoming aware of your surroundings and stopping yourself rather reluctantly.

Thomas tightened his arms around you for a brief moment, pecking your lips one last time and resting his forehead on yours.

“You’re going to leave. Don’t.” He whispered, already having read your mind.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Yes, you do. Stay. I promise I will protect you, now and for as long as you will allow me.”

His words held such honesty, you believed him, more than you’d ever put a trust in someone.

“Okay.”

“Will you stay?”

“I will.”

You sighed, simply nodding as a reply as you linked your arms behind his neck, chuckling in delight when he picked you up and walked you towards your bed. Trusting those ocean blue orbs that held the promise of a better present, and perhaps a better future.

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