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lady-rose-moon · 2 years

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You were him?

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

Warnings: mentions of attempted suicide

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

Part One ~ Part Two ~ Part Three

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dear Thomas,

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

Yours,

Y/N ~ <3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You lied to me!" you sobbed.

"I did."

"You poisoned me!"

"I... I did."

"You told me you loved me!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You lied to me!" you sobbed.

"I did."

"You poisoned me!"

"I... I did."

"You told me you loved me!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You weren't alone after all.

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

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ladycamillewrites · 1 year

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Hi theeeeeeere! 😁💗 For your opening event... Something fluffy with this guy? 🥺

Thank youuuu! 🧡

▪️ Gif drabbles day 2 (≈700 words)

Welcome home

“Lucille?” Thomas' agitated voice echoed through the many old hallways and silently whispering wooden staircases.

No answer. Not a single noise.

“She must be in London then” the black haired baronet mused, two slender fingers gripping the brim of his equally obsidian stovepipe hat to swiftly slide it down.

“Darling, come on in” Thomas soothing voice coaxed you to step inside the huge, slightly spooky mansion the Sharpes possessed for generations. It was rustic however, craftsmen were working all around the huge house to renovate.

“Welcome to Allerdale Hall” he cooed stretching his right arm as he happily presented his home to you, the woman he had been looking for his entire life and was sure would withstand Lucille's twisted nature.

With widened eyes and a coy smile on your rosy lips you looked around your new home, turning and tilting your body as your mind began to imagine how a touch of you would perfectly suit this historical mansion.

Thomas arms were fast to embrace your waist in a touch of sentiment, his fingers brushing the fabric of your gown as you continued to turn on the spot. You had naively agreed to move in with him after your hurried love wedding in your father's small country estate. Nevertheless, regret was not what filled your heart when your smile grew broader, Thomas loving chuckle coating your excitement with sweet caramel.

“Whatever is my gorgeous wife smiling about?” your husband snickered before stopping your spin with his big hands hugging your waist tightly but utmost gently. There way the dark baronet treated you had never been malicious, quite the contrary. He was a true gentleman of old class.

“I love it here” you panted, overwhelmed by all the ideas and unique inspiration you got from the old mansion. This would be a perfect home, you gut told you so. Even if those rumors about the building being haunted by ghosts were true, they would have to cope with your adjustments of facility.

The thought made you giggle, drawing the lean baronet's rapt attention. Your opinion was all that mattered from now on and he would do everything in his might to change whatever was unpleasing to his perfect wife.

“Really? You do?” Thomas asked, a cute shyness embedded in the low timbre of his voice. Those steel blue orbs you had shamelessly fallen for during the first waltz were looking up at you again, happiness and relief adorning those almond eyes.

“Of course, Sir Sharpe” you smiled cupping his sharp cheekbones before Thomas pulled you in a loving kiss, caressing your exposed collarbone with a soft thumb, the touch so mildly it was rather a promise than an act. The somewhat intimidating-looking man was a sensual lover and preferred to keep your love live intimate. But of course, the two of you would surely find some privacy in the huge master bedroom Allerdale Hall offered.

“I love you so much, darling” he murmured between loving kisses, each a testament to his honest feelings towards you. You, the new Lady of his household who would finally free him from Lucille's poisonous influence.

Your delicate fingers stayed intertwined with some of the raven curls as you parted, the very tall man still bowing to you with affection glistening in his eyes like the diamond of your wedding ring.

“If you wish we shall set up a garden to grow those flowers you so much adore. The new machine I invented did successfully go under contract with a huge company” Thomas grinned proudly but still subtle, staying true to his calm nature as he told you the good news. The baronet was fond of his inventions, a clever man.

“A garden would be most delightful, my love” you noted, continuously smiling lips placed a sugary kiss on your husband's alabaster cheek before you slipped from his embrace. Nevertheless, none of you let go of each other's hand as if it there was an invisible bond proving your devotion.

“My love, allow me to show you around” Thomas purred, his expression happy and relieved as he offered you his suit clad arm. Eyes shone bluer than the clear sky, inviting you to explore this new fascinating life Sir Thomas Sharpe was offering you from the bottom of his heart.

“Welcome in Allerdale Hall, Lady Sharpe” the maid greeted you respectfully using your new title that truly sounded quite becoming…

Thank you @holdmytesseract ♥︎

Taglist; @holymultiplefandomsbatman @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @mochie85 @muddyorbs @loz-3 @xorpsbane @yukio369 @silverfire475 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @assemblingavenger @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss

#thomas sharpe #crimson peak fic #sir thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe fic #thomas sharpe fluff #crimson peak drabble #thomas sharpe drabble #hiddleston characters #drabble #fluff

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asgards-princess-of-mischief · 4 months

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Last Updated: 2024-03-05

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Sir Thomas Sharpe stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

✑ 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

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andsheloved · 2 years

Text

𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔

pairing ~ sir thomas sharpe x f!reader

word count ~ 1.3k

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

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

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

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

And in a way, maybe it was.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm right here."

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

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

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

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

Just as he always did.

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

"Was it-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When the nightmares began.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m here my dear, I always will be.”

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

check out my masterlist :)

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

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sleep-deprivedracoon · 2 years

Text

When they get a tooth removed – Drugged AF HC’s

Note - your genshin man just had to get his tooth removed. Drugged and out of his mind, he shows a side of him that you have never seen before.

Characters - Venti, Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli, Albedo, Childe, Xiao, Itto, Thoma, Ayato, Gorou, Kazuha

Warnings- Drugged state, inappropriate language, fluff, slight smut

Part 3: Childe, Kazuha, Gorou x f!reader

Part 1 | Part 2

CHILDE

It was a surprise to you that your boss wasn’t in a situation like this before. Given his appetite for a good fight, he had his tooth chipped when he fought with the famous traveler. You had lost count of how many times the Harbinger had fought the traveler. Baizhu, a mysterious pharmacist helped remove the tooth and your boss was woozy with the herbs that were given to him to numb the pain. What was worse was that he consumed fire-water against everyone’s advice to help him with the pain.

“(Y/N)….. hic…” He wobbled towards you.

“Yes, sir!” You curl your lips in order to fight back your laughter. It was not often that you saw this side of your boss.

“Gather the.. the… trooooops. I-I want to… to.. train them.” He slurred.

“Sir, with all due respect. You should be resting right now. Training can wait.” You try to reason with him.

He frowns. “You- You think… I am we-weak, don’t yuh? Hmph.” He crossed his arms. “D-do as I-I say… I w-will sho-show you I am strong and I can – can – can pro-tect you.”

“Boss – I …” You sigh. “Nevermind, I will gather the troops.” You leave and do as he says.

Once the troop have gathered outside Liyue city, Childe sits on a rock as he observes the training. You were one of the few people in the troop with a vision instead of a delusion. Ideally in your training, you were discouraged to use your vision as it gave you an unfair advantage. You were fighting against a hydro gunner who was proving to be quite a challenge. At one point you stumble and fall due to the impact of the water shooting from the gun. Before you could get up and fight back, you see that the hydro gunner was already pinned to the ground with your boss holding a sharp arrow against his neck.

“Y-you you… really thought you.. could h-hurt (Y/N) on.. on my watch?” He glares coldly at the fallen man.

“Boss. What are you doing?” You rush towards both of them. Everyone around you had stopped training.

“Boss, please… I was just training.” The hydro gunner gulped nervously. “See.. she’s okay.”

Childe lets go off the man and spits at him. “Ne-next time if any… one lays a finfinfinger on my girl, I won’t won’t be so kind.”

Your eyes widen at his declaration. His woman? What? “Sir?”

“It’s Ayyyjaaxxx.” He winks as he falls face-first to the ground. You rush to check on him and find that he was passed out. You look up to see all the Fatui look at you nervously keeping their distance from you. The conversation when he woke up was going to be….. interesting.

KAZUHA

This wandering nomad started complaining about a toothache a few weeks ago. On your trip through Liyue, a healer determined that his tooth was infected and had to be removed so that his other teeth did not catch the infection. A potion was given to him and the tooth was skillfully removed. You always found Kazuha aloof which is why you were never confident to confess your feelings to him but in his newfound state, Kazuha was doting on you.

“(Y/N), let me make some tea for you.” He smiled wide.

“Uh.. No… You need to rest.” You shake your head.

“How about a nice massage instead? You’ve been really tense around me the past few days.” He places his hands on your shoulder.

“I am okay, Kazuha… Really.” You squeak.

You hear him sigh and pull away. This trip was really getting hard for you with your festering feelings for your friend. You really respected and admired him as a friend which made the situation difficult. You couldn’t lose him and you knew he couldn’t lose you either. He’d already lost so much. From the corner of your eye, you look at the man who got your heart beating as fast as a butterfly’s wing. He was writing something on parchment, a poem you presumed. He was really good at it. You sit in silence while he pens down. This was normal for him and he did not like to be interrupted.

Eventually, you get up and go to buy some food.

“(Y/N), wait..” He pouts.

“Yes?” You turn around.

“Where are you headed to?”

“I am going to buy us some food, Kazuha.” You smile at him.

“Before you go, I need your opinion on my new poem.” He looked frustrated.

“Alright.” You nod and take a seat opposite him.

“Don’t look at me … okay?” You see his face turn red.

“Fine!” You roll your eyes. You couldn’t wait for the potion to wear off. He was too pushy and demanding like this. You turn to look away from him.

He clears his throat. “Ahem. So here it goes. Love’s keen sting is so cruel but then it is also kind and so my heart loves.”

You wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. “That’s it?” You raise your eyebrow.

“Yes. It is a haiku…” He avoids your gaze.

“I am not going to lie, Kazuha your work is usually better than this.” You bite your lip hoping he wouldn’t take offense.

“So… you’re rejecting me?” His hands tremble as he crumples the parchment.

“Huh?” You looked confused.

“I just poured my heart out to you…” He pouts.

“Oh.” You smack your head. Wait, Kazuha loves you? Kazuha loves you. KAZUHA LOVES YOU. You jump from your seat and quickly embrace him.

“You’re really confusing, (Y/N).” You feel him relax. “Does this mean, you like.. me?”

“Yes, you drugged idiot.” You giggle.

“That’s wonderful!!! I should write a poem to commemorate this moment.” He pulls away from you.

“NO.” You pull the pen from him and throw it out of the window. You knew he would thank you for that later, after all the poet in him right now was better off not writing.

GOROU

“Can… Can you call me a puppy?” His tail swishes from side to side as drool slips out of his mouth.

You wipe the drool from his mouth. “Gorou, for the last time, please go get some rest. You’ve been given numbing medication for your tooth.”

“But, darling. I am your puppy, aren’t I?” He whimpers.

“Yes, you are.” You smirk at him.

Your general and fiancé had to get his tooth removed after it started to ache when he was chewing on a bone shard from a vishap. To this day, you could not wrap your head around his canine urges but you loved him nevertheless. He tried his best to keep it under control but sometimes it would slip out and in his current state, he was more of a canine and less of the man you knew.

“Can you… Can you… pat my head?” He looked at you with his goddamn puppy eyes.

You sigh and give in. You pat his head and scratch him behind his ears. You see him tapping his leg.

“Okay, now go get some rest.” You try to lead him to your bedroom.

“(Y/N)… (Y/N)…(Y/N)…. I have something to show you.” He jumps into the closet and starts searching for something.

“Gorou, I swear to god, if you mess up the cupboard, you’ll have to be the one cleaning it up when you recover.” You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Shh.. I almost got it.” He pulls out a box.

You’d seen this box multiple times. It belonged to him. Since you respected his privacy, you never opened the box and you hadn’t even given it much thought. “What is it?” You ask.

He opens the box and pulls out a couple of photographs. He looks at them and growls as he hands them over to you. The pictures were of a female canine-human in an elegant green kimono. She resembled your fiancé but the only difference was that she was heavily endowed in the chest region.

“Is she your relative or something?” You were nervous. Was she someone from his past? Did he keep her photo and belongings in the box as a keepsake? You didn’t know how to feel about this.

You see him sulk and drop his head. “(Y/N)… I am not a good boy.” He whines. “That picture… is me…” His wagging tail comes to a halt.

“Wait.. what? Are you into cross-dressing, Gorou? Why were you hiding it from me? It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone has their kinks!” You try to reassure him.

“IT IS NOT MY KINK!” He barks. “THAT STUPID FOX PRIESTESS MADE ME DO IT. Guuji Yae!!”

You looked confused as hell and Gorou explains everything to you and how Miss Hina became a part of his identity.

“Hahaha. Oh Gorou, you poor thing.” You caress his cheek. “You don’t need to be worried about this. However, I should say that this kimono in your picture suits you well.” You wink at him.

“Sh-shut up.” He crosses his arms and blushes.

“What else is in the box?” You try to peek into the box and catch a glimpse of the green Kimona. You gasp and clap your hands in excitement. “Can we try it on you again??”

“Absolutely not.” He shakes his head.

“Gorou, pleaseeeeee.” You pull out the dress from the box and walk towards him.

“No. No. No. No. No.” He steps away from you and starts to run. You chase after him. You had to see your man in this, who knows if he would ever do this when he was sober.

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callipraxia · 11 months

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Books Read, May 2023

I've thought of starting a book blog before, but alas - I never have enough to say when I don't have someone to bounce off of, or at least can't figure out how to say it. Plus, I mostly read nonfiction, so...probably not the most thrilling reviews. In lieu of that...here's what I read in May.

Courting Scandal: The Rise and Fall of Jane Boleyn, Lady Rochford - James Taffe

Jane Boleyn: The True Story of the Infamous Lady Rochford - Julia Fox

Young and Damned and Fair: The Life of Catherine Howard, Fifth Wife of King Henry VIII - Gareth Russell

Inside the Tudor Court: Henry VIII and His Six Wives Through the Writings of the Spanish Ambassador Eustace Chapuys - Lauren Mackay

Wolsey: The Life of King Henry VIII's Cardinal - John Matusiak

Cardinal Wolsey - Mandell Creighton

Remembering Wolsey: A History of Commemorations and Representations - J. Patrick Hornbeck II.

The Life and Death of Thomas Wolsey Cardinal: Once Archbishop of York and Lord Chancellor of England - Sir William Cavendish

Obviously, I got 'on a tangent,' as I do sometimes. I've gathered this may have something to do with the ADHD, though not from particularly official sources, so don't quote me on that. In this case, it was partially a return to old tangents; while I'd not read the last three books on this list before, my reading journal indicates I previously went on a bit of a tangent on the subject of Cardinal Wolsey in February and March of 2021. I was also immensely pleased, in my Kindle recommendations earlier this month, to find a book on Chapuys; he was always one of those background figures in the historical fictions I read as a kid that I wished I knew more about. Gotta read his letters myself sometime, since it seems, from the Google, that they can be viewed online in English translation.

I'll give Lauren Mackay this: she's much more honest than a lot of authors are when she reached places where the information simply no longer exists, or at least hasn't been recovered yet. There was enough 'prose' to keep it interesting, but not excessive attempts to state things about the ambassador that she couldn't back up with evidence. This, I felt, was in sharp contrast to Julia Fox; I loved the descriptions of the court, the attempts to tell a story, and these things definitely have a place in history-writing, but here they were fairly blatantly...fluffy, I suppose. Now, I'm hardly one to complain of fluff, rather fond of soft things myself, but it was glaringly obvious, when she said Lady Rochford must have been thinking or feeling something, that she was essentially filling in the blanks with a story of her own devising. Sometimes the 'costume' of historicity the text wore was something it looked 'comfortable' in and sometimes it was quite obviously a poorly-researched French hood shoved awkwardly onto the head of an actress with zero knowledge of sixteenth century fashion and how to wear it, but there were always leaps from one point to another. In contrast to that, I felt that Gareth Russell balanced his reader-drawing prose fluff with his historical analysis much more adeptly when considering Catherine Howard; I've read his book more than once over the past couple of years and expect I'll read it again in years to come. I came away with no impression of James Taffe's work, alas, except that he clearly wrote his book as an exasperated rebuttal to Julia Fox; I was, unfortunately, very sleep-deprived when I read that, so I'll have to read it again sometime. My lack of sleep, however, is not why I read the rebuttal first and the book it was responding to second...even though I'd had Fox's book in my physical TBR shelves for several years and only stumbled across Taffe's the day I bought it. I'm told I've always had a tendency to do things in the wrong order and somehow make it work anyway, so why mess with a good system at this point?

As for one book being a rebuttal to another - here we come to one of my favorite things about reading history, which is to say, how often historians blatantly attack or support each other in their writing. In the last couple of chapters of Remembering Wolsey, I was irrationally delighted to see the author offer opinions on every book I read during my 2021 tangent as well as one of the ones I read this time around. It's amusing (to me) to sort of...get to know the different personalities: "hm, yes, I can see why someone would say that about Ives," or "yeah, I never did get Starkey's position on that, all things considered," or "ha, that was almost the exact same thing I said two years ago about Ridley!" It's...oddly cozy, I suppose.

Hornbeck was especially interesting as he wasn't writing about what happened - he was writing about the trends in how people have remembered what happened over the past few centuries. There were interesting thoughts on historical fiction throughout, especially near the end; that one may warrant a full independent review, if I can muster the energy to write it out. For now, however - there's all the reading I did in May.

#books #reading #reading in 2023 #may reading #reading report #reading history #history #medieval history #renaissance history #cardinal wolsey #catherine howard #jane boleyn #rambles

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ao3feed-brucewayne · 26 days

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Muggins that's who.

by Demorra (thebibliosphere) “Master Bruce,” he called again, climbing the stairs at a clip. “I know you can hear me, young sir. It’s time for bed.” “Have to catch me first,” the boy called back, and yeah, Alfred could hear it. The lyrical Cockney lilt that dropped the ‘H’ and mixed with the nasal inflection of broader New Jersey he’d picked up at school—the exact opposite of the posh transatlantic accent both Martha and Thomas affected. And it sounded like it was coming from inside the walls. Alfred paused mid-stride and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you in the bloody air vents again?” he asked. A ripple of eerie childish laughter echoed through the ornate brass vent cover closest to his head. Alfred sighed. That boy. -- Or I wanted to write something fluffy about Pennyworth!Alfred interacting with child Bruce and it took a sharp turn into adult angst before turning into fluff again. Words: 2066, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Pennyworth (TV 2019), Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne (mentioned), Martha Wayne (mentioned) Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Good Parent Alfred Pennyworth, Alfred is Bruce's third parent, child!Bruce is a gremlin, Time Jump, adult!Bruce Wayne is Batman, and Alfred always comes to save him, Head Injury, broken ribs, Fluff, physical injury, moral of the story: don't fall off or roofs and make your elderly butler come get you, Dead Martha Wayne and Thomas Wayne, Marth and Thomas are still working for the CIA, but their cameo is brief and from Alfie's perspective, also if you don't know Pennyworth's Alfred: he swears a LOT via https://ift.tt/JqoTD83

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the caped crusader #gotham #dcu #dc #ao3 #ao3feed

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ao3feed-lokiangst · 2 years

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I told you, you're so different

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/v4xHoW3

by Moon_Bunny21

In which Sir Thomas Sharpe, Baronet was actually Loki Laufeyson in disguise. What if Edith was someone even she didn't know about?

Words: 2003, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Crimson Peak (2015), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Thomas Sharpe, Thor (Marvel), Lucille Sharpe, Loki (Marvel), Edith Cushing, Alan McMichael

Relationships: Edith Cushing/Thomas Sharpe, Loki & Thor (Marvel), Edith Cushing/Loki (Marvel)

Additional Tags: Reunions, Rebirth, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Lost Love, Asgard (Marvel)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/v4xHoW3

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #angst

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mostly-marvel-musings · 2 years

Note

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.

#sir thomas sharpe x female reader #sir thomas sharpe fanfiction #crimson peak au #thomas sharpe x you #thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe fluff #thomas sharpe fanfiction #thomas sharpe one shot #sir thomas sharpe one shot #sir thomas sharpe fluff #sir thomas sharpe x you #mostly marvel musings

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sserpente · 3 years

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A/N: Request by @nebulousfishgills. Let’s be honest, fluffy and romantic is what defines Thomas Sharpe. Have a lovely Christmas Eve, everyone! ♥

Words: 1438 Warnings: fluff

You were humming Jingle Bells. If there was one positive thing about being snowed in in midst of massive land in England inside a house in which only a few rooms were heated, then it was Christmas approaching.

When you had fallen in love with Thomas, the decision to move in with him had come quick. You were a young woman to be married and your father wanted to know you in the hands of a wealthy man. It had all happened a little too fast for your liking but then again, Sir Thomas Sharpe was wonderful. He treated you like a princess, making sure you were comfortable and had even promised to start renovating the house with you in the new year.

Only Lucille was not at all delighted by the fact you had become the third household member. One night, you had overheard him and her talking about you, about how they desperately needed the dowry of your father to keep the mansion in good condition.

It had all been almost too quick of an engagement for Thomas too, you realised that when you found out Lucille had pressured him into proposing to you so soon. You sighed. It is what it is. You would make the best out of the situation—starting with Christmas decorations and a Christmas tree which someone from town would kindly deliver to you in time for Christmas Eve.

“This looks lovely, dearest.” Thomas took off his coat. He had just returned from the attic, crafting away.

You smiled. “It’s not much but I like it.”

“You might like this then.” He announced, producing a small object. Your jaw dropped.

“It’s a nutcracker! Oh Thomas, it’s beautiful! I love it! Did you make it yourself?” It was wearing a red coat and black shoes, made of wood and painted by hand. Thomas must have used the filling of an old pillow to give it a bit of a beard and the gold chain of one of Lucille’s broken necklaces to complete his armour.

“That I did.”

“It must have taken you days! Let me put him on the nightstand. Thank you, Thomas.” Standing on your toes, you pressed your lips against his cheek. You had not exactly gone any further than a few chaste kisses here and there and the odd cuddling at night—that, you saved for your wedding night. It was due as soon as the snow melted.

“You are welcome.” Thomas answered, pulling you into a hug. “I was hoping to make the holidays a merry time for you, being so far away from home, here with us. Consider it an early Christmas present.”

“All this house needs is a little love and warmth. You are my family now. Now,” you began, quickly depositing the nutcracker on your nightstand. “I am done here. Let us head downstairs and decorate the living room. I believe a wreath would look pretty on Lucille’s piano, and some stockings above the chimney.”

Thomas’ sincere expression faltered.

“Is… is there a problem?”

“No. No, not at all, dearest.” But his smile did not quite reach his eyes this time. “Let us decorate.”

By the time Lucille returned from her shopping trip in town to get new supplies for cooking (along with your polite request for turkey, for you wanted to make a proper Christmas dinner for everyone), Thomas and you were almost done. Only one corner in the living room had remained untouched to leave some space for the Christmas tree.

Utter shock spread on her face when she spotted all the garlands and baubles which you had brought from home.

“Thomas, what is all this?”

“Christmas decoration?” You chirped.

“This is… Thomas and I don’t celebrate Christmas.” She announced coldly. Your lips parted, your gaze darting to Thomas. So that is why he had been hesitating about decorating the living room.

“Lucille…” He began.

“We don’t celebrate Christmas, Thomas. Not since mother died. You said nothing would change when you confessed to me that you love her.” She spat, pointing at you as if you were some sort of vermin. You sighed. You had always known that Lucille didn’t particularly like you. Thomas had told you about their both tragic and traumatising backstory too and that she was both protective and possessive when it came to the younger Sharpe sibling. That, however, had not stopped you from falling in love with Thomas. In fact, it made you love him all the more.

“…she is away from home, I wanted to—“ Thomas was just saying.

“This is your new home now!” Lucille spat at you. “Get used to it.”

“Lucille. I will not let you stop me from celebrating Christmas with my fiancé. Either you calm down and join us or you retreat to your room but let us be.”

“This is ridiculous.” With pursed lips, she darted forward and ripped the stockings off the chimney, tossing them into the open fireplace. You gasped. Those had belonged to your grandfather. He had loved American traditions which was why you had put them above the chimney in the first place. Tears formed in your eyes, worsening your sight.

As much as you had grown to love Thomas, you truly hated this place.

“Lucille!” Thomas bellowed.

“I got your bloody turkey, is that not enough?”

Suppressing a sob, you turned on your heel and fled, back upstairs and into Thomas’ bedroom. You had not expected him to follow you so soon, only a minute after, however, the baronet entered and shut the door quietly behind him.

Your heart jumped when he muttered your name. “I am so sorry. I will get you new stockings. The most beautiful ones I can find. In fact, I will head to town right now and see if—“

“No! No, don’t go.” You sat up from the bed, your face reddened and eyes swollen from crying. “Don’t leave me here alone. Thomas… it’s… it’s not just about the stockings. How will I ever be happy in this place if Lucille spends every minute trying to make my life here a living hell? She hates me, Thomas.” You sobbed, allowing him to pull you into his embrace. He wanted to object and tell you that you were wrong, that his sister did not hate you… but he couldn’t. Because it would have been a lie.

“Thomas… why don’t we leave? Lucille is suffocating you and you know that.”

“I…” He paused, unsure of what to say. “Would you already like to open your Christmas present? Just the two of us? Would that cheer you up?”

“But… you already gave me the nutcracker. Tell me you didn’t spend any money on me.” You complained half-heartedly. Thomas shook his head with a smile. He stood, walking over to his side of the bed and producing a white envelope from his bedside table.

His expression was so sincere and loving that you feared your heart might melt, despite of what Lucille had just done.

“Open it.”

With trembling fingers and after drying your tears a little, you did as you were told, revealing a piece of paper which looked a little like a postcard.

“It’s… a picture?”

Thomas chuckled. “It is about what is in the picture. I sold a few of my old drafts for machine parts, it was enough for a deposit. The drawing of this little seaside cottage right here—it will be ours. It lies south of London, near Brighton.”

“W-what do you mean? You bought it?”

“I paid the down payment. I thought… I know you don’t feel at home here—I understand that. But the house is all the Lucille and I have left, this property… I thought perhaps we could spend the warm months together in the cottage, the cold months in Allerdale Hall with Lucille… or… or the other way around, if you’d prefer—”

You interrupted him with a passionate kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing on his lap and straddling him.

“This is wonderful, Thomas.” You said when you broke apart again, your lips swollen. “I love it. It will be our own little kingdom, just the two of us.”

“Yes.” He confirmed, still breathless from your kiss.

“Let us… let us put up the Christmas tree here, in your bedroom. Lucille doesn’t need to see it if she is so uncomfortable with the idea of Christmas. As long as you are here with me?”

Thomas nodded. The idea was reasonable. “I shall never leave your side again.”

“Merry Christmas, Thomas.” The baronet smiled.

“Merry Christmas, my future wife.”

I hope you’ll all have a peaceful Christmas Eve with your friends and family! ♥

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente

#thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe imagine #thomas sharpe x you #thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x female reader #thomas sharpe fluff #sir thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe imagine #sir thomas sharpe x you #sir thomas sharpe x reader #sir thomas sharpe fluff #crimson peak #crimson peak imagine #tom hiddleston

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lady-rose-moon · 2 years

Text

Our Three Is Not A Crowd

Summary: in the months that follow, life seems to become that bit better

Warnings: this chapter is almost all smut and you will find out why soon! Discussions of trauma, Genderfluid Loki, internalised homophobia thanks to Odin

Part One ~ Part Two ~ Part Three

The months that followed after you had announced that you were ready for Thomas's baby were full of love, warmth and sex. The God was constantly pulling you to him and sheathing his hardened cock inside you, he couldn't help it, the idea of your body accepting his seed and growing his child turned him on shamelessly.

Your cabin was your safe haven away from the world and its issues and as you watched the news of Stark creating a murder bot, you were not at all concerned that it would find your home, not even through Thor. Your head laid on Thomas's lap as you fiddled with his fingers, a green glow shining sometimes which led you to stare up at him adoringly.

Thomas was seamlessly holding a book in one hand as you messed with the other, a smile playing at his lips as he scanned over the words in the book. His hand that you were meddling with eventually cupped your cheek and then caressed down your jawline and down your neck to one of your breasts, squeezing it gently and he smiled when you sighed happily.

"It's a lovely night, Thomas," you whispered, your eyes darting to the window with a grin and Thomas followed your gaze to the window slowly.

The God hummed before closing the book and looking down at you, "would you like to sleep out there tonight?"

Your heart raced as you looked up at your husband with a grin, "you'd want to?"

Thomas laughed and ran his fingers through your hair, swirling it around his fingers before brushing it out. "My dear," Thomas purred, looking down at you with adoration, "I studied the stars for years, I loved sleeping beneath them just to see what story they would tell to me."

You giggled and slid off the sofa, holding his hand as you walked out of the back door and down to the fire pit, lighting it and holding your hands over it to warm you. Behind you, a green flash filled the space and when you turned, you saw a tent had been erected with Thomas standing in front of it proudly.

Walking over to him, you wrapped your arms around his middle and pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade, your eyes looking up at the clear sky. "It's beautiful," you whispered in awe and you felt Thomas chuckle.

"Let's make a baby beneath the stars, my love," he whispered and your thighs pressed together eagerly as wetness formed in your panties at his dark and lustful eyes.

You nodded eagerly and laid down on a blanket that Loki conjured, your clothes disappearing in an instant with Thomas kneeling between your legs. "No, wait," you whispered, catching Thomas's attention, "tonight I shall ride you beneath the stars, my Prince."

Thomas's cock twitched with interest as you rolled over so Thomas was on his back and you were knelt between his legs, his eyes never leaving yours during this exchange. Before even thinking of mounting him, you decided to have your way with his cock in your mouth.

You used your seiðr to banish his clothes and for a few moments, you appreciated every fine expanse of skin that was revealed to you. Every battle scar, every dimple, every twitch of his muscles as he waited for you to make your move, the rise and fall of his chest as he took in air, you loved this God so much.

Wrapping your hand around his cock, you brought it to your lips and pressed a kitten lick to the tip and he hissed in pleasure but managed to keep eye contact with you. Your lips wrapped around him in an instant and you set your pace, Thomas's moans coming immediately as you gave his hardened cock as much attention as he wanted.

Feeling bold, you eagerly swallowed him until he hit the back of your throat and you gagged, your eyes rolling at how perfect he felt inside your drooling mouth. Thomas gasped for air as his whole body was alight with pleasure, his hips thrusting his cock gently into your mouth as he whined desperately.

"Please," Thomas breathed, his cheeks reddened from the pleasure and how close he was to falling over the edge.

You hummed and smirked, the vibrations building up Thomas's orgasm, even more, your tongue swirling around his impressive length as you bobbed your head and kept your eyes on him. Just as Thomas was about to fall over the edge, you pulled away from him and watched as he threw his head back and moaned in disappointment.

"Aww, Thomas," you purred, stroking the God's strong chest with a seductive smirk, "all of your cum will be filling up my pussy tonight, remember?"

Carefully straddling his hips, you sunk down onto his cock and sighed in relief at the pleasure it gave you immediately. Just like the first time, Thomas reached behind him to grasp the blanket for support since there was no headboard this time. You bounced on top of him slowly, your hands supporting you on his chest as his head lolled to the side, overcome by the pleasure you were giving him.

"You're so fucked already, aren't you?" you teased, grabbing Thomas's chin gently and forcing him to look in your eyes as you rode him, rolling your hips against his teasingly a few times before returning to bouncing and increasing the speed of which you took your pleasure from his cock. Eagerly, you threw your head back and moaned into the night, enjoying the knowledge that you had made Thomas speechless.

"Choke me," Thomas whimpered and you stared down at him, your cunt clenching at the desperate look in his eyes, he trusted you enough to let you choke him? Your heart raced and you smirked as your hand slid from his pectoral to his throat, applying pressure until he told you where he was most comfortable.

Squeezing gently, you enjoyed the feeling of his cock twitching inside you and you continued to ride him as you stared at your fucked out husband, drooling and moaning helplessly beneath you. He allowed you to dominate him like this and didn't put up a fight about it! He was so perfect!

You felt the familiar electricity of your orgasm building so you grabbed one of Thomas's hands and pulled it to your pussy as you glared at him, his eyes watching you though they were clouded with blissful lust. "Bring me to my orgasm, Thomas, and you will get to cum," you ordered him and he nodded eagerly, two fingers slipping past your folds to circle your clit lazily as your body bounced on his cock.

The attention to your clit was enough to push you over the edge and you moaned as you fell, "cum with me, Thomas, you've been such a good boy!"

Thomas moaned in delight and his back arched as ropes of cum filled you up as you came around his cock. You leaned over him and pressed your forehead to him as you smiled tiredly, "that was amazing."

Thomas nodded dumbly and after you pulled off him and laid beside him, he pulled you towards him, nuzzling into your chest and allowing sleep to consume him, tent be damned, you were all he needed. He was your good boy.

~~~~~~~

A month and a half after your romantic night beneath the stars, you stood in the bathroom staring down at a positive pregnancy test. A smile broke out on your lips and you dropped to your knees, staring at the stick in your hand. Loki was out for the day with his mother so you had an idea of how to tell your beloved husband about the new addition to the family.

Using your seiðr, you teleported to one of England's lesser-known cities to stay off the Avengers' radar. Once you appeared in Hull, you decided to first start with one of their baby shops, coming out an hour later with many baby onesies, baby boots, hats, mittens and even a shirt for Loki that said: 'I am the father to the next God or Goddess of Mischief'.

As you walked around, you grabbed many more baby items and you knew that the guest room would one day become occupied by a more permanent guest. You sat down to eat in a quaint cafe, your hand on your flat stomach as you looked at the bags of baby things that you had bought. Your smile was incredibly bright as you picked them up and teleported back home.

You were relieved to see that Loki wasn't back yet so you got to work, hanging the baby boots in Loki's wardrobe on the rail where he would most certainly look. You hooked one of the onesies on the fridge door and even created a little Tesseract to sit beside a teddy bear by the kettle.

Next, you made sure that the gift box you had created was ready on the living room coffee table, with an emerald key laying on top of it for Loki to use to open it later. After that, you ran into the bathroom and got a quick shower before magically drying and styling your hair and making an emerald dress appear on your body. Smiling, you walked into the hallway and awaited your husband's arrival.

No less than half an hour later, the key turned in the lock to the cabin and Loki stepped through with bags of clothes and he froze when he saw you in the hallway waiting for him. Smirking, he tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

You walked over to him with a purposeful swing in your hips, wrapping your arms around his neck and playing with his shoulder-length hair. "Welcome home, husband," you purred and Loki smiled, pressing a firm kiss to your lips.

"This is a welcome surprise, my love," Loki murmured, looking at your body in the dress and he smirked at you, "did I forget something?"

You giggled and cupped his cheek, "no, baby, go hang up your clothes then come into the kitchen to put the kettle on. I wanna know about your day out!"

Loki pressed a kiss to your temple before heading into the bedroom. He chuckled when he saw your hoodie and leggings carelessly discarded in the hamper by the bathroom door and he shook his head fondly, his girl would never change. Opening the door to the wardrobe, he came eye-to-eye with baby boots and he tilted his head curiously at the sight of them. Taking them from the rail, he left his seiðr to pack away the new outfits as he headed into the kitchen, boots in hand.

"Darling?" Loki called as he walked into the kitchen, watching as your head lifted from the book in your hands and he lifted the boots accusingly, "I know you wish to make a baby with you and I promise you, we are trying, I do not need hints that I need to fuck you more."

Your cheeks reddened as you saw him prowl closer to you and you moaned as his lips attached to your neck, his teeth nipping at the lobe of your ear with a dark smirk on his face. You felt his hard cock against your stomach and your brain faltered at his misunderstanding.

"Wait!" you tried, trying to push yourself away from your husband, "that's not what-"

Your protests died as his fingers dived beneath your dress and he felt your bare cunt there. "No panties?" Loki purred, his eyes boring into yours, "dirty slut, you wanted to get fucked over this counter?"

You moaned as he flipped you around and lifted up your dress, revealing your glistening folds to his eyes and he moaned, "you're so wet already, what a dirty girl your Prince has on his hands."

"Yes, I'm a dirty girl," you whispered as Loki smirked and knelt behind you, his tongue diving into your entrance and sucking your juices into his mouth, causing you to scream in bliss as your head fell forward into your crossed arms, "I'm your dirty slut for my Prince!"

Loki pressed two fingers against your clit and circled at the pace he was thrusting his tongue into you. He hadn't forgotten your night beneath the stars and he decided to punish you just the same as you had punished him. Just as you were tipping over the edge, Loki pulled himself away from you and enjoyed your disappointed scream.

"Hush, darling," Loki whispered, kissing down your back gently, "I'm going to fuck my dirty slut now."

True to his word, Loki pushed his hard cock into you almost two seconds later and you released a loud, grateful moan.

You slowly shuffle to get comfier and it has Loki groaning behind you at the involuntary clenching of your cunt around him, one of his hands reaching out to hold the back of your neck with a dark growl. "Careful," he drawls, thrusting into your hard once and making a desperate moan escape your throat.

He thrusts again, his hips slapping against yours as he does, hammering into you in a way that ignites a primal need in your body and makes your clit throb desperately for his attention. You bite your lip to keep quiet, knowing that if you opened your mouth now, all that would escape would be pathetic moans and desperate pleas for him to fuck you more.

Loki expertly rocked his hips rhythmically down and forward, finding the spot inside you that sent you to the stars and he started to pound hard into you, constantly hitting that sweet spot inside you as your ass jiggles with the force of his thrusts.

It was too tempting to Loki, your bare ass was just on display for him. He reared his hand back and slapped your ass, never ceasing in his movements as you screamed into your arms, your orgasm hitting you unexpectedly and Loki curses in Asgardian as he falls over the edge with you, ropes of hot cum spilling into your awaiting cunt.

Breathing heavily, Loki rested his head between your shoulder blades and tried to catch his breath as you came down from your high in front of him. When he was sure he had his strength back, Loki grabbed a towel and used his seiðr to dampen it before pulling out of you and wiping away any of your mixed juices that escaped your pussy.

He smiled when he heard you whimpering and he kissed your sore ass before helping you stand tall, kissing your neck again and guiding you into the bedroom.

Loki laid you out on the bed, legs spread out for him as he eased himself back into your tight cunt, moaning in bliss at the feeling of his cum cooling inside you as he started to thrust leisurely, watching as your toes curled and your legs lifted to wrap around his waist.

"You're so cock-drunk, aren't you, baby?" Loki smirked down at his beloved, watching you nod eagerly as your legs pulled him closer, "don't worry, baby, your King is here for you."

You gasped and your hand darted down to your stomach, his hand meeting yours there as he started to increase the pace of his thrusts, your eyes rolling in bliss as the pleasure took away any form of lucidity you had to tell him of your pregnancy.

"I'll give you what you want," Loki whispered, his hips slapping against yours, his eyebrows pulled taut as he moaned.

Green shimmered behind you and you felt fingers run through your hair and your eyes opened, looking up at a duplicate of Loki kneeling on the floor beside your head, his smile loving and the touch of his fingers on your scalp was comforting. You knew better, though, this meant Loki was serious.

In the next moment, you were turned onto your hands and knees, facing the duplicate who was now on his feet with his cock lined up to your mouth. With a smirk, the duplicate stroked his hardened length and offered it to you as your husband fucked you harshly behind you.

Accepting the cock into your mouth, you moaned as the duplicate twisted his fingers into your hair and started to thrust into your mouth at the same time as Loki thrust into your awaiting cunt. You cried around the duplicate's cock, staring up at your husband adoringly as he continued to fuck you.

Loki's hand fell to your clit after a few minutes, sensing his own orgasm brewing in his abdomen. Swirling your clit, he watched as your head stopped bobbing on his duplicate cock in order to moan appreciatively at his attention to your clit.

You fell over the edge quickly with Loki's rapid circles on your clit, your body shuddering and you had to grasp the duplicate's hips to steady yourself. Both Loki's released a simultaneous moan and released their cum inside you, the duplicate disappearing moments after and Loki gently pulling you to his body.

"You did so well, my dove," Loki whispered to you as you whined, yawning into his chest and keeping your eyes shut, "sleep, my dove, I will wake you in time for dinner."

~~~~~~~~

Days after the best fucking of your life, you were standing in the kitchen and making breakfast. Once you were done, you decided that Loki deserved breakfast in bed so you put breakfast on plates, transferred them onto a tray with two glasses of orange juice and then headed down the hall to your shared bedroom.

"Loki?" you call into the room, moving the door with your shoulder, "I have breakfast!"

Once the door was fully open, you didn't see Loki in the room. No, you saw the most beautiful woman in the world before you, her hair hanging down to her buttocks, her breasts were rounded and perfect with her nipples hardened from the cold and her figure was amazingly hourglass. You almost dropped your tray at the distraction.

Loki looked into the mirror and gasped when she saw you staring, quickly reverting back to her male form and holding up his hands, "you didn't see anything!"

"Loki," you whispered, setting down the breakfast on top of the dresser as you made your way over to your naked husband, "I know about your shapeshifting, remember?"

"But I am a Prince of Asgard, not a Princess!" Loki hissed, looking away from you in shame.

You sighed and cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at you, "let me see what he brainwashed you with this time."

Sighing, Loki's fingers gleamed a beautiful green and he brought you into his mind.

The door opened and Loki beamed when she saw her father enter the room. Father had been awfully distant as of late and Loki was starting to get worried as to if she had done something to offend him.

“Hello, father,” she greeted with a gentle smile, “I was wondering when you would come with us.”

Odin took one look at Loki and his face turned sour, his once happy smile turning into a frown of disapproval, “Loki,” the man’s voice rumbled, “what is the meaning of this?”

Loki took a few steps back and her eyes widened in shock, “mother taught me new magic, father, I can change my shape! I feel so comfy!”

“Loki, lift your magic this instant!” Odin boomed, the scared little girl staring up at her father in horror, “you are a Prince, not a silly little maid girl!”

“I’m not trying to be a maid girl, father!” Loki cried out, tears falling down her cheeks as she sniffled, “I am still Loki! Still your Loki!”

Odin shook his head and sighed with such disappointment that Loki’s heart broke with each second the man exhaled. The man walked past the Prince and grabbed his scissors, stalking forward and grabbing the Prince roughly by the arm to the floor before the fire. Odin pulled Loki’s hair back and once he had a measurement set, the scissors went straight through Loki’s hair. Loki screamed and wailed but Odin only let go when the young girl looked more like a boy than she ever would look like a girl.

“You are a Prince of Asgard, Loki. You are an Odinson,” Odin snarled, and Loki nodded numbly, and the King left the room with Loki’s cut locks burning in his hand as he walked.

The princess sat beside the fires, stroking the severed hair on her head as she brokenly sobbed.

Withdrawing from his mind, your hand slapped over your mouth as you stared at Loki in horror before jumping into his arms and nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, "change."

"Darling-"

"I said change!" you shouted, holding both of his cheeks, tears dripping from your eyes as you stared at him.

Bowing his head, green shimmered around your wife as she appeared before you and you instantly pressed a kiss to her lips, your heart sinking when she didn't kiss back. She thinks you'll reject her, how could Odin abuse her like this!

"You are not Odin's daughter, Loki, you are Laufey's daughter! Daughter of a race of shapeshifters, male, female, neither! I love you in any form you take! Do you hear me?! I love you Loki Laufeydottir!" you kept her eyes on you throughout your speech, hoping it would sink into her mind that you loved her endlessly.

Loki was motionless for a while, her emerald eyes taking in the emotions swirling in your own beautiful eyes.

"Would you hate our child for being able to shift?" you ask her, knowing that she would bite at that, she would defend your children to the end.

"Of course not!" Loki fought instantly, tears brimming in her eyes as she held her hips, "our child would be cherished and supported! I would love them for being who they are!"

"So why can't you...?" you whispered, your thumb gently stroking away the tears falling from her right eye, "why can't you love and cherish yourself, Loki?"

You watched her distance herself again, her mind running a mile a minute as she was trying to find an argument. "You even hide your jötunn form from me, for Norns sake! Why can't you love yourself, Loki? Love yourself and find comfort in just being you? You belong to no-one... why should you care?"

Loki whimpered and collapsed to the ground, you catching her quickly as she cried out and sobbed. "I just wanted to be me but Odin stole that from me! I can't, Y/N! I can't be me!"

You shushed her and rocked her gently, your nails gently scratching her scalp as you whispered sweet nothings into her ear, "you are perfect, Loki... so, so perfect... I have loved all sides of you since I found out you were you... I married Thomas Sharpe but I got you too... I'm so lucky... so, so lucky... our child is lucky to have you as their mummy..."

Loki stilled in your arms as she heard the last bit of your words of comfort, "what...? What did you just say?"

You beamed at her and held her hand over your stomach, your eyes never leaving hers, "it worked, Loki, I'm pregnant."

An elated laugh escaped Loki's lips as she nuzzled against your stomach, gently pressing a kiss to the skin after lifting your hoodie, "hello, baby, I'm your mama... and also your daddy... you'll get used to it..."

You smiled down at her and continued to scratch her scalp comfortingly as Loki busied herself with talking to your flat stomach.

"I want another," Loki whispered after a few minutes.

You laughed and shook your head, "but we haven't even met this little one yet!"

"Don't care! Want another one!" Loki pouted and you cooed at how adorable she was before bringing over the tray of breakfast with help from your seiðr.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was over when you hit 24 weeks. Thomas had been fine for the most part during your pregnancy, taking over difficult tasks so that you didn't need to but when you hit 24 weeks pregnant. Your bump was noticeable to anyone who looked carefully even through his hoodie and you were glowing!

Thomas made sure to constantly be around you with his hands on your swollen stomach, caressing the sides of your stomach and even dropping to his knees at any given time to kiss your belly and compliment you on how well pregnancy suited you.

Today was no different, you were casually reading on the bed when it was thrown away by a flash of green and your head turned to see your husband standing in the doorway. Smiling, you opened your arms and he came rushing over, laying between your legs to kiss your swollen belly gently, breaking out into a story of his childhood for your baby.

Normally you would love Thomas doting on your child and talking to them but you wanted the attention today. Gently caressing his hair, you gained his attention and he saw the lust hiding in your irises and he smirked.

Leaning down again, Thomas pressed a kiss to your stomach and whispered, "sorry, baby, I'll pick up later, mummy is needy today."

The slap on the back of his head that earns him is worth it.

With a flash of green, both of your clothes disappeared and Loki pressed a rough kiss to your lips, his hand caressing your cheek as he sighed in pleasure, feeling your bump against his own stomach. He began to litter your cheek and neck with nips and kisses before leaning back on his knees and admiring your swollen stomach in all of your naked glory.

"You're so pregnant, baby," he whispered, his hand caressing your stomach gently, his cock twitching at the knowledge that it was him that put this baby inside you and he was going to enjoy fucking his very pregnant wife.

Sinking his cock into your tight cunt, Thomas moaned filthily at how much more you gripped him now that you were pregnant, becoming even more attractive for the God above you.

You mewled in pleasure at the feeling of his cock inside you again and you looked up at Thomas with a beautiful grin, your hands laid on your stomach as you bit your lip.

"Oh you're so very pregnant," Thomas mumbled as he started to rock his hips, his cock sliding in and out slowly as he got used to the new tightness before his pace increased speed, causing beautiful moans to fall from your lips as you gripped the pillow beside your head. "You're mine, Y/N, do you hear me?" he demanded and you nodded but he snarled and thrust hard into you, causing a moan to escape your throat, "words, pet."

"Y-yes!" you gasped, "I am all yours, Thomas! I promise, promise, promise!!"

Thomas's hands fell to your pregnant stomach and smirked as his fingers gleamed a beautiful emerald as his horns appeared tattooed on the side of your stomach and he moaned as he watched it swirl with his magic and your own.

"This will protect you," he whispered gently, stroking over the mark and you moaned in delight at the gift, "if you ever, EVER, find yourself in a dangerous situation, press this tattoo or feel its magic and it will bring you home."

"Thank you," you whimpered, his cock hitting that sweet spot in you that made you lose the lucidity that you just had, deteriorating into a gooey mess for your husband again as he continued to fuck you.

Your hands joined over your swollen stomach and you both breathed heavily as your orgasms approached, Thomas's hips becoming sloppy as he tried to keep up the pace but also bask in the intoxicating pleasure that was consuming him.

Thomas moaned in bliss as he spilt his cum into you, one of his hands disconnecting from yours to circle your clit, watching your form write and your mouth spill dirty expressions as you fell over the edge, your back arching and your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you came down from your highs.

Thomas kissed you gently and pulled out of you, conjuring up a damp towel to wipe away the mix of juices between your thighs. When he was done, he laid between your legs again with his head peacefully rested on your baby bump.

About an hour later, you roused from your sleep to hear Thomas yet again recounting a story of his childhood to your baby and you smiled lovingly at the sound, listening along to his stories until he was done.

"Thomas?" you whispered into the darkness of your bedroom.

"Yes, beloved?" he asked with a small smile on his face, his head never leaving your belly.

"Marry me again."

~~~~~~~~~~

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

@lokisgoodgirl

@lokisninerealms

@slpnbty2001

@jennyggggrrr

#loki god of mischief #loki x reader #loki smut #loki #loki x you #loki fluff #tom hiddleston x reader #loki (marvel)#sir thomas sharpe x reader #this was so cute #spicy too #sir thomas sharpe #imagines #requests open

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babybluebex · 3 years

Text

corsets and courtships [thomas sharpe x reader smut]

summary | inspired by corsets and courtships / your father's business partner comes to your home in hopes of discussing the future, and you both get more than you bargained for. pairing | sir thomas sharpe (crimson peak, 2015) x fem!reader (y/n) word count | 3.1k warnings | SMUT (MDNI), fingering, no stated use of contraception, not a lot here tbh author’s note | yeah so.... this audio has lived in my brain for a WHILE and my recent rewatch of crimson peak only made it.... harder to ignore. thanks to @tomhiddlestonsoundalike for making these (even if he's stopped posting *sob*), and enjoy!

“Oh! Sir Thomas!"

When you answered the door, you hadn’t expected to see the baronet. He stood there in his noble glory, his dark jacket’s shoulders damp, his black curls undone with rainwater. “My lady,” he greeted you in his charming British timbre, his light eyes gazing expectantly past you into the house. “What a lovely sight you are. Is your father home?”

“No,” you replied, tugging your house dress a bit tighter around your body. “He went to dinner a few hours ago. Is the matter urgent? Might I phone him?” You started to step back into the house, but Thomas’s quick exclamation stopped you.

“No, no,” Thomas said quickly. “I actually intended to speak to you privately. May I?” He looked past you into the house, and you suddenly became hyper-aware of the cold rain that the baronet was drenched in.

“Oh, goodness, yes,” you said quickly, stepping aside to let him in from the rain. Lately, London had known nothing but the cold and the rain and, being from America, you weren’t used to it in the slightest. You suspected that Thomas was used to it, but, still, being accustomed to something did not make it any less of a bother. “Sir Thomas, did you walk all the way here?”

“I did,” Thomas replied. You helped him out of the soaked overcoat and hurried to set it in front of the fire, and your hands shook as you did so. Why was Sir Thomas Sharpe darkening your doorstep at this time of day? The sun had already gone down, and you were preparing for bed. Thomas had to know how inappropriate it was. “But no worries. I was perfectly alright.”

“Oh, good,” you said quickly. You knew that your current state, just your chemise and corset and velvet dressing gown, were unsightly for you to be seen in, especially by one of your father’s business associates, and you nervously clasped your hands behind your back; you hoped that Sir Thomas either didn’t notice your current state of undress, or that he didn’t mind.

“To begin, I suppose,” Thomas began, carefully sitting on the settee sofa in front of the fire. He wore a beautiful dark suit underneath his teal overcoat, a perfect compliment to his pitch-colored hair and thin visage. His eyes, though, were the showstoppers-- a lovely and icy blue. Thomas was so wonderful and such a great friend to you, despite only meeting you because of his work with your father, but it wasn’t usual for him to turn up unannounced; only unusual because of this time of day. “I… I must congratulate you on your engagement.”

“Oh, yes,” you laughed softly, but your face burned. “My dear Mr. Burke. Yes, it was only a matter of time, I guess. Especially when it was so urged by Father.”

“May I ask how you met?” Thomas asked curiously. Thomas had always been a curious man, and perhaps it was presently for the worst, but you admired it. Truthfully, a small piece of your heart wishes that you were announcing your engagement to Sir Thomas Sharpe instead, but your heart could heal; it would have to. You had no choice but to accept it, and to mourn what could have been.

You tilted your head as you tried to conjure up the memory of you and your fiancé’s first meeting. “Well, we officially met when I was young,” you started slowly. “I was around ten, perhaps. Burke had just begun to work for Father, and I met him under those pretenses. But it was once I became of age that he began to properly court me, and…” You shrugged and let your hands clap at your thighs, and the sound was dampened by your dressing gown. “Here we are, I suppose.”

“Indeed, here we are,” Thomas sighed. “Are you… Are you happy with him?”

You scoffed at his boldness. “What a question to ask, sir,” you breathed. Anxiety filled you from head to toe, and you began to pace around the parlor. Your father wasn’t due home any for a while, but the consideration that he might return and catch you speaking ill of Mr. Burke churned your stomach. You and Thomas had been close for a long time, though, and you sincerely trusted him with the truth. “But… I don’t know how to feel. I don’t think I truly know Mr. Burke well enough to have a great deal of thoughts about him, let alone know whether or not I’m happy with him.”

The air in the parlor was heavy now, and you picked at your thumbnail, as you often did in uncomfortable situations. “It’s so cold out,” you mumbled, hoping to ease Thomas off of the subject. “Would you like some tea, Thomas?”

Thomas lifted his eyes from the fire. “No,” he said. “Thank you, darling. I fear my stomach does not have the temperament for it at the moment.” After a pregnant pause, Thomas took in a deep breath, and he said, “I lied. I did not come to congratulate you.”

“You didn’t?” You repeated. “Well, then, what did you come for?”

Thomas dropped his eyes from yours, but he took a hesitant step closer. “Madam, I have a confession,” he started. “For some time now, I have admired you, albeit from a distance. When I come to your home in order to discuss business with your father, I always looked forward to when you would deliver us tea. Those small encounters made meetings bearable. I understand that your marriage is set to make your father a wealthy man, and I have little to offer in those terms, but I need to tell you before it's too late.”

“Thomas,” you said quickly, taking a step towards him. “You don’t need to do this. I will be content with Burke—”

“Will you, though?” Thomas pressed, his eyebrows furrowing with doubt. “I can give you things that Burke can’t, things that you so dearly need. Someone as spirited and curious as you surely cannot be forced into a marriage with someone like him! You have so much life, darling! You are so full of passion! It pains me to see you resign yourself to a life with a man like that.”

“Would you rather I defy my father, then?” you asked. “This is past me now, Thomas, I cannot undo this.”

“Do you honestly plan to marry Burke?” Thomas asked. His pale face was now flushed with a tepid anger, his eyes alight in a way that you had never seen before. It was anger, it was passion; it was love. “Do not lie to me, my darling. Do you see yourself loving him, making a home for him, having his children?”

“I do not have a choice, Thomas,” you huffed. “And neither do you. I am promised to Mr. Burke, and I will make good on my promise, as I have been taught to do.”

Thomas sighed and rubbed at his forehead as he squeezed his eyes shut. “I will heed your protests, as you wish,” he mumbled. “But, please, hear my words. I love you. I long for you. I ache for you. I burn for you. I dream of you when I sleep and I think of you when I wake. Even my sister has noticed my devotion, and she is often blind to these things. This has gone beyond a love for your mind and your words. This is a love of the soul; the essence of me is bewitched by you. Please. Tell me you don’t share my affections.”

Your face had grown hot by the time he sighed in conclusion, and you pressed your hand to your chest to try to cover the flush. You were stuck. You had loved Thomas from the moment you met him, but you always knew yourself to be promised to Mr. Burke. You hadn’t let yourself explore the depths of your love for the baronet, but the warmth in your stomach alerted you to exactly what you felt. “Thomas, I…” you started. “I—”

“Your breathing,” Thomas started and he stepped close to you, close enough for you to smell the scent of his skin. His hand, larger than your own and soft to the touch, grasped you by your waist and drew you flush against his body, and his eyes locked on yours. “So rapid, so sharp. What do you wish to tell me?”

“I…” you began. You struggled for the words, but Thomas’s biting of his bottom lip helped you find them. “I feel as if my passions are entwined with yours, sir.”

“As our bodies will soon be, I imagine,” Thomas whispered. “The longer I look at you and have you in my arms… I can scarcely contain my desire. I must have you.”

You had never been held in such a tender embrace. No kiss had ever met your lips, but you found yourself pulling Thomas in by his tie and brushing your lips to his. The heat that blossomed in your chest had made its way to your belly in an unfamiliar striking of what you knew to be desire, and the small growl that left Thomas’s throat told you that he felt the same way.

Quickly, you fell to the settee, and Thomas made quick work of removing your blouse. He kissed your neck, giving you the softest affections that he could, and he gave a soft hum at the sight of your corset. It wasn’t a nice one, a simple white, but Thomas drank in the sight of it all the same. “So exquisite,” he whispered, his fingers trailing up the tough boning to brush against the warm skin of your breasts. “How I long to take my time with it, but we both know that your father could return at any moment.”

“Thomas—“ you began, your voice a whine that was unusual for you, but Thomas quieted you with a kiss.

“Think of the scandal if we’re caught,” he whispered into your mouth, his breath hot on your lips. “Forgive me, my love, but this will have to do.” With deft hands, he tugged your corset downward, exposing your breasts to him and the cold air, and his hand instantly captured one. “What perfection you are, dearest. You deserve to be worshipped like the goddess you are. You don’t think Mr. Burke would treat you in such a way, do you?” He placed a gentle kiss on your collarbone, then began to settle a series of kisses to the valley between your breasts.

“He never has,” you whispered.

Thomas pulled himself out from between your breasts, confusion etching his face. “Have you laid with Mr. Burke?” he asked.

“Not properly,” you explained. “Just… Little things.”

“Like what?” Thomas asked. “Tell me, my love.”

A whole different sort of heat invaded your body now. Instincts told you to cover yourself and to shy away from Thomas, but his warm touch made you seek him out and grasp his strong arms instead. “It has all been for him, you must understand,” you began quickly. “I never gave myself to him, because…”

“Because why?” Thomas asked. “What was the reason?”

You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood. “I always wanted it to be you,” you admitted in a whisper. “I could never let Mr. Burke have my most precious gift.”

Thomas’s features softened, and he let out a heavy breath. “You’re a virgin,” he said; not a question, but a statement. “And you’re willing to let me have the honor?”

“Thomas, please, I want it to be you,” you told him. You pushed your fingers into his hair and pulled him down to kiss you, and your body quivered beneath him when his tongue pushed into your mouth, so passionate and dominating and hungry, but still so loving. His curls brushed your forehead, and your back arched up into his chest, pressing your breasts into him. “Oh, my flower,” Thomas purred. “I will help you blossom.”

His hands left your body, instead going underneath your skirts to take your legs in his grasp. His hands were cold and they sent a shiver down your spine, and he slid them up to your thighs. Goose-skin invaded every inch of you as it was exposed to the air, and, once his hands had met the inner skin of your thighs, he drew them tight around his waist. His mouth went back to your breasts and his lips latched onto your nipple, now hard and raised by arousal, and you bit your cheek to keep in your moan. “Let me hear you, my flower,” Thomas whispered. He rolled his hips into you and, without your skirts in the way, he found himself pressed right against your wet heat. “I have long dreamt of the noises you would make.”

“Thomas,” you whimpered. Your bodies naturally found a rhythm with each other, and you grew to burn for the little huffs he gave into your breasts. He bit at them, leaving small red spots in his wake. You knew that your hair was being matted against the pillow below your head and that explaining it away would take some effort, but the sudden foreign feel of his fingers against your slit made every other thought flee from your head. “Thomas! What—“

Sir Thomas Sharpe shushed you gently. He dragged his long finger down your slit and collected the wetness that dripped out of you, and he whispered, “This is what you’ve been longing for, hasn’t it? Someone to love you, take care of you? My dearest flower, I can do that for you, and more.”

You shivered when he slowly pushed his fingers into you, and you tugged at his hair as a gasp fell from your mouth. You hadn’t ever felt anything as good as that, and you found yourself muttering, “More. Fuck, Thomas.”

“Oh, such naughty words from such a pretty thing,” Tom chuckled. He was pleased with himself, you could tell. He had every right to be, though; the way that he had you completely undone beneath him was admirable. “Trust in me, my sweet girl. I’ll take care of you forever.”

His fingers coaxed you open, and you couldn’t help the way your body reacted to him. You shuddered and trembled under him, and you moaned like you never thought possible. You had never envisioned yourself to be in such a debauched state, but your hands clambering for his belt solidified your decision. “I can’t marry him,” you told him. “N-Not after you, my love.”

Thomas’s cheeks grew pink, and he gave a laughing breath. “I’m relieved to hear that,” he told you. Carefully, so as to not startle you, he pulled his trousers down just enough to extract his cock, red and weeping. He had a length and thickness that made your heartbeat pound in your ears, and Thomas quickly mumbled, “My sweet girl, you’re shaking so. Is something wrong?”

“I just want you,” you cooed. “I want to be yours, Thomas.”

Thomas smiled, and he placed a kiss on your bottom lip. His hand came up to cup your cheek tenderly, and his thumb stroked your cheekbone as he pushed his cock, hard and burning hot, past your folds into you. The feeling was strange and made you lose your breath, but his reassuring grip on your face and thigh helped you adjust to it. “Oh, my girl,” he groaned. His voice was shaking, his warm words growled possessively. You were his, and he was yours. “Oh, my love. You… You feel better than I ever dreamed.”

You whimpered and flexed your hips to have him deeper, and he kissed your shoulders and neck as he started up a gentle pace. The odd feeling, one almost of pain but not quite, quickly dissolved and was replaced with a striking ecstasy, and desire filled every part of you. If you hadn’t meant it before, you certainly did now; you couldn’t marry Mr. Burke, not knowing that Thomas could and was guaranteed to treat you so much better. Lady Sharpe was a title that seemed rather becoming, now that you considered it.

Your bodies moved together knowingly, giving and taking each other like waves upon a shore. With each passing second, a knot was tightened deep in your belly, and you dug your fingers into Thomas’s back, rumpling up his shirt and jacket. “Are you close?” he asked. His voice, raspy with breath, dripped with intoxicating want, and his hands continued to roam your body. He never seemed satisfied with one place, but you felt the same way. Everything wasn’t enough.

“Yes,” you rasped shakily.

“I can feel it,” Thomas muttered. His breath was hot against your ear, and every pant and hissing breath echoed deep inside your head. “Give in with me,” Thomas told you. His lips finally met yours again, and your hands found final purchase in his hair. “Let us come undone together.”

With that, the knot in your belly splintered and came undone all at once, and a cry ripped itself from your mouth. Your body heaved and quivered under Thomas, and he gave a tight groan as he came. His cum coated your wet heat, painting you as his, inside and out, and the small ring on your finger felt as if it were burning you right up. It needed to come off and, as Thomas’s hips slowly ceased, you wriggled the ring off of your finger. “I’m yours, Thomas,” you whispered in a hushed voice, panting still. Your heart beat wildly in your ears, and you felt like you would never truly recover from his embrace. “All yours.”

“When your father returns,” Thomas began. He slowly pulled his cock from you and did up his trousers, and he whispered as he helped you turn decent once more. “I’ll make clear to him that I intend to court you, and that I will not take no for an answer.”

“You’re quite the worthy man,” you told him. You sat up and touched your skin, just a hint tender from his mouth, and your face went red with the implication that, perhaps, Thomas had left a mark on you. “And an honorable one. The only complication would be—”

“Mr. Burke,” Thomas sighed. “Yes, yes…” He watched the fire for a few moments, his mind working wonders behind his light eyes, and his hand carefully touched yours. “I certainly don’t have his fortune, but I can offer you much more. I-I have an aptitude for business, as your father knows—”

“And for other matters,” you added with a smile, and Thomas’s cheeks turned pink.

“Yes, that too,” he said with a laugh. “But perhaps I should exclude that from my proposal to your father.”

#thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe #crimson peak #thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe smut #sir thomas sharpe x reader #sir thomas sharpe smut #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine

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asgards-princess-of-mischief · 5 months

Text

Last Updated: 2024-03-05

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Sir Thomas Sharpe stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

❆ Christmas at Allerdale Hall by sserpente • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Imagine spending Christmas with Thomas Sharpe at Allerdale Hall, while the Baronet is determined to make the holiday special for you, Lucille cannot be more cross with [you for celebrating the holidays]."

❆ Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas by just-the-hiddles • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Your sister and children have come for the holidays to Allerdale Hall but all is not merry and bright."

❆ London Blizzard by sserpente • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Imagine getting stuck in [London due to] a blizzard with Thomas Sharpe over Christmas."

❆ A Special Present by ladyfluff • 〔C〕 • ♡ • 𑁍 •

❆ Chilly by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Darling, You Shouldn't Have by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Mistletoe Kiss by sserpente • 〔F〕 •

❆ Snow Day by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

See Also: Navigation || Thomas Sharpe Master Index

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

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

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laufeyamp · 3 years

Note

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

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

"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.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

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

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just-the-hiddles · 4 years

Text

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

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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.”

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