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smolvenger · 3 months

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And yet…

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

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

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

Or not.

Or both.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He kissed the top of her head.

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

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

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

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lulubelle814 · 10 days

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In Every Life

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

Part 1 - Thomas Sharpe x Josephine Morrow

Part 2 - Capt James Nicholls x Grace Narracott

Part 3 - Robert Laing x Valerie Hutton

Part 4

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lilacsandamethysts · 1 year

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No marriages of convenience please

Pairing: Kamisato Ayato x fem!Reader (she/her pronouns)

Summary: Kamisato Ayto is the most wanted bachelor in Inazuma; every elder in every clan wants him for their relatives. He, however, has his eyes set.

Warnings: some sexism but its only implied not straightforward, arranged marriages

A/N: Hi! The name of the clan was totally made up and I also guessed Ayato age.

“Please consider my daughter.” This was getting old. Old and tiring, oh so tiring. Kamisato Ayato had been receiving marriage proposals since the ripe age of one minute old and had declined every single one of them. Now, at 26, the proposals had multiplied and become more bold and demanding. He was reaching his limit as of late especially since the elders of several clans and powerful families from Inazuma and beyond had started crowding the entrance to the estate making it difficult for anyone to get inside and out without being bombarded by pleas of “Send for Sir Kamisato we have an urgent matter to discuss” or “Tell mister Kamisato my daughter has been in love with him and is a perfect fit for the Commissioner” and his favorite by far “Our clan is known for their strong warriors, my niece will give him capable sons”. Truly, if he ever found himself at such a pitiful position in the future he would give Thoma the green light to put him out of his misery. It was ridiculous how far people were willing to go just to get a small taste of power and wealth. Kamisato Ayato was formidable and feared and awed; all the clans in Inazuma would give away their female relatives freely without a second thought if it meant they would become somehow tied to the almighty Yashiro Commissioner. Ayato stared at the old couple in front of him with nothing but pity, eyes traveling to the mortified young girl to their right who seemed to be afraid of her own shadow at this point. He sighed, rubbing at his temples and pinching the bridge of his nose before motioning for the parents to stand up; oh how he hated it when they bowed.

“Once again, as I told you before, I would have to decline your offer.” He smiled softly at them, managing one last glance at the girl who seemed to gain back some of her color at the sound of his rejection. “I am not looking to marry.”

It was a routine that, despite his better judgment, he had gotten used to. Everyday there would be a small pile of engagement offers sitting on his desk -courtesy of Thoma who would always blush profusely if he were caught placing the letters- followed by two or three sets of parents or elders who didn’t take his rejection via letter kindly. They would talk for thirty minutes about the benefits of this marriage, their female relatives attributes (“she has wide hips, milord, fit to bear you strong sons”, “our family has been blessed with visions, she shall bear you a vision user.”, “we have a massive expanse of land for you to expand and grow.”) and how reliable they are as a family, how powerful both families would become with this union before waiting patiently for a nod in agreement that would never come. Always during these affairs, the woman in question would be with them, head bowed low, figure trembling and sometimes with tear tracks marking her skin. He felt horrible for them every single time. Later he would send them a goodies basket as an apology for the hassle and traumatic event they had to witness, making sure their families caught no wind of the interaction lest they interpret it as an action of love, attraction or agreement. Today was no exception as this was the second family he had shooed off and it was currently only noon. Another one was bound to come knocking on his door in an hours’ time. He sighed once again, allowing his head to rest in his hands while he rubbed at his eyes with the balls of his palm. Being the Commissioner was tiring. Before he had any time to slack further, a sharp knock echoed through his office and as the frame slid open, Ayato was relieved to come face to face with someone far more amusing and pleasant than the wrinkly faces of a new pair of elders.

She had a tray in her arms, the smell of his favorite tea invading his senses as she slowly trudged to him, eyes glued to his own with a soft smile decorating her plush lips. He wanted to kiss her so badly. Carefully she set the tray on the table and without a word began pouring him a cup, adding two cubes of sugar. Just like he wants it. He grazed his fingers over her own when taking the cup from her hands, a soft ‘thank you’ leaving his lips before he took a sip, eyes trained on her the whole time. She was irresistible. He truly didn’t know how he managed to get anything done when she stepped into a room. She was so mesmerizing, so enthralling, so addictive. The curve of her lips, the light in her eyes, the flow of her hair, even the scars on her body, the ones few had seen and even fewer had kissed -and by fewer he only means himself-. She was an angel come down straight from the heavens to bless his existence. An angel who looked oh so kissable.

“The Hanamaki clan has requested an audience, sir.” Voice sweet as honey, a hint of mischief hiding behind her words and behind her eyes. A tease that’s what she was; a tease with no regard for the agony the man whose heart she had stolen had to go through daily when he couldn’t announce her as his. He huffed into his tea, eyes rolling at the thought of having to go through this ordeal once again, sooner than he was expecting as well. “Do not fret sir. An emergency seems to have been scheduled ten minutes into your meeting. I’m afraid your negotiations will unfortunately be cut short.” She had the audacity to wink at him and it took every ounce of self control in his body not to jump across his desk and make her breathless for him, make her forget her own name at the taste of his lips, make her lose herself in his arms.

With a small nod she went to leave only to be stopped by her Commissioners’ hand wrapped around her wrist. They stared at each other for a few agonizing seconds, desire pooling in both their gazes before Ayato could simply not take it any longer. Pulling her towards him, she landed in his lap, legs wrapped snugly around his waist as her hands went straight to his cheeks, cupping them gently while he guided himself to her most desirable part. The moment their lips met, every frustration melted away and bled into the kiss, mouths molding to each other as he brought her flush to his chest, hands desperately trying to grab as much of her as he could. A gasp escaped her when he bit down on her lower lip giving him the chance to slip his tongue in her mouth deepening the kiss. What would those greedy elders think if they caught him like this with her? A disowned member of an Inazuman clan turned mercenary, his subordinate, holding his heart in her palms; the heart that he freely gave away to her, an action that he never regretted and never would regret for as long as he lived. She scouted impossibly closer, arms going around his neck as whimpers dripped from her lips. They separated for air, lips swollen and puffy, eyes glazed over with what he could only describe as pure lust. He dove for her neck, peppering her delicate skin with feather light kisses before reaching the spot he was searching for and biting down making her moan at the filing of his teeth on her skin. He could feel her flush at the sensation, her fingers tangling in his hair and tugging lightly making him groan at the action and suck another hickey just behind her ear. With a hand under her, he leaned forward laying her flat on her back on his desk before separating from her to admire his work; the mess he had made of her without even touching her where he knew she needed him the most right now. Lithe fingers went to the buttons of her uniform while she started to push the jacket off his shoulders, minds hazy with their need for each other. Kiss her more, more, more. He trailed down her neck slowly to her chest, tugging the fabric just unde rhee breast to-

"Commissioner sir, the Hanamaki elders have arrived. They are asking for your presence." Thoma's voice cut through the atmosphere like a knife, halting all movement from then both. Ayato frowned, letting his head fall onto the spot on her chest where her heart was.

"I'll be right out. Thank you Thoma." His voice betrayed his displeasure and paired with the lethal frown he dawned on his face she knew that the emergency ten minutes into the meeting wouldn't be needed; he will have them out of the estate in five. He sighed again this time focusing his gaze on her eyes as she smiled at him knowingly. Her hands caressed his cheek, leaning in to pack his nose once, twice before fixing his shirt and jacket.

"A marriage proposal is calling you milord." And right there he saw it. It was momentary and very easy to miss, if he had blinked in that moment he would've been none the wiser. But he did see it. A tinge of sadness, of desperation, of heartbreak. He has focused all this time on how unpleasant this chore was to him that he had failed to realize how much the situation might be hurting her. Seeing her lover being proposed at and fawned over whilst hiding behind closed doors for only a kiss must be unbearable. He wouldn't be able to take it for long and he hated himself for failing to see the hurt sooner, for failing her. It was certain that the announcement of their courting would rile up trouble both from the public and her estranged family; people would talk, gossip and hate whilst her family would have an epiphany, a need to reconcile and rekindle their relationship with the daughter they abandoned. But through all of it he would be there to protect and love her, to make everyone fall into silence, to make them see that she was more suitable for him than any other measly noble thrown his way. There was not a doubt in his mind that they could make it through it.

"Marry me."

#kamisato ayato #ayato kamisato imagines #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x you #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you

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sserpente · 3 years

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A/N: Requests from three anons. Sir Thomas Sharpe is back in time for Halloween! And he will be back for more after too. Enjoy, everyone! ;-)

Words: 2277 Warnings: fluff and smut, mentions of ghosts

“Are you quite mad? Do not look at him like that, you are a maid! Not a potential wife…” The chef shook her head. She had a habit of chiding you but how else were you supposed to look at him? Sir Thomas Sharpe was everything a woman could ask for in a man.

He was an attractive and kind gentleman, wealthy, gentle and intelligent. He never raised his voice in an argument during all those balls you had secretly watched him at all the while serving drinks in an unflattering gown.

“Sorry…” You whispered, accepting the plate filled with little appetisers she was handing you. Another night for you to keep your head down and feign respect for all those rich bastards. Sir Thomas was different—you knew he was. He said Please and Thank you and he would always make eye contact when you served him. And quite recently, his tender blue gaze would linger just a little longer. Not long enough for anyone in the room, let alone his harsh sister Lucille to notice but long enough for your heart to flutter in your chest whenever you were in his presence.

Sir Thomas Sharpe owned Allerdale Hall. You knew he lived there with his sister, working day and night to build a clay mining business to restore the old mansion. They said it was haunted and it had hence captured your attention ever since.

There wasn’t much to do as a maid. You rarely got days off and even when you did, you did not have the money to head out and experience society the way the wealthy did. Your wages sufficed for a pie at the local pub every other month or so, if anything. And so, your hobbies were of a more affordable nature—such as your fascination for ghosts.

He recognised you now. He recognised you from when you travelled all the way to Allerdale Hall by foot to explore the landscape and see for yourself if you could spot any kind of paranormal activity. He’d seen you, probably thinking you were spying or begging for food and money, prompting you to flee before he could stop you or utter a single word.

Tonight was going to be different. It was All Hallow’s Eve and the highest members of society had dressed up in fancy costumes—most of them were even wearing masks.

You were not only flustered to look him in the eye now but also scared that he would call you out. The reputation of this house would sink massively if a maid was caught spying somewhere, even if that wasn’t what you had been doing.

Avoiding him went surprisingly well for the first half of the evening. Thomas Sharpe was charming—everyone wanted to speak to him—not so much to his sister though, her cold eyes glaring down every woman who came near him. Perhaps she was just protective? Wanting the best possible choice for her brother when it came to marriage? You sighed, turning away before you could get caught staring again.

“Excuse me? Would you mind bringing me and my sister another glass of champagne, dear?” You froze. It was his voice. Oh no…

Stammering, you spun around, tempted to just flee. It wasn’t just recognition you saw in his warm blue eyes though. It was kindness, along with… affection?

Surely, you were hallucinating now. You had fallen head over heels for this man despite never actually having spoken to him. So how was this possible? This was your imagination. Your mind playing a trick on you, it must have been!

And the fact that he did not utter a single word about spotting you on his property made you fall for him all the more.

“O-of course… I’ll bring it to you straight away!” Hurrying away to heed his request, you took a deep breath once you were out of sight. His voice… like smooth honey and his warm and charming gaze… oh, stop! You were just a maid! There was no way this man would ever take an interest in you…

When you returned with the requested drinks, Thomas was speaking with the owner of the house.

“It’s been quite busy tonight, has it not?” He was just saying. “Surely, your maids deserve a break after all the hard work.” Thomas gave you a warm smile, making your heart skip a beat.

“They’re used to it.”

“I’m sure they are.” He turned to you. “Allow me to escort you.”

Your heart skipped a beat and while your lips parted, Lucille’s face distorted with utter dismay.

“Thomas?”

“I will be right back, Lucille.”

His smile was genuine too when he offered you his arm and led you through the crowd, through one of the side entrances into the dark garden that was eerily quiet at this time of the day.

“Sir… I appreciate the gesture but I don’t think it’s appropriate for a man of your status to be seen with a simple maid on his arm.”

“Is a maid not a beautiful woman as well? A woman who does not fear hard work?” Your lips parted once more. Had he just called you beautiful?

“Will you tell me your name?” He asked gently once you reached the calming darkness of the garden, away from curious ears and disapproving looks.

You told him, too timid to look him in the eye even if you could barely see him away from the many candles lighting up the house.

“A beautiful name. I take it you know who I am but still, allow me to introduce myself to you. I am Thomas.”

“Sir, I can’t possibly call you by your first name.”

“Please. I insist. It’s alright.” He spoke your name then, sending pleasant shivers through you. The pause that followed was peaceful—not at all uncomfortable.

“You… I saw you. What were you doing at Allerdale Hall the other day? Did you need something? Help?” Oh. Oh no. So he had wanted to wait until you were in private to confront you?

“I… I am so sorry, Sir.”

“Thomas, please.”

“T-Thomas… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t spying, I promise, I just… there aren’t a great many pleasures for a maid. I cannot afford expensive hobbies but I take… I take a huge interest in paranormal occurrences.” You confessed. “I heard Allerdale Hall is haunted and I… I wanted to see for myself.”

“Ghosts…” Thomas smiled. “There have indeed been incidents my sister and I have been unable to explain.” Another pause, your heart in your mouth when he smiled at you… almost timidly this time.

You shivered when he said your name yet again. “The truth is, I am smitten by you. I have been for quite a while. With every celebration, I would always look forward to seeing you rush around the ballroom to offer drinks and appetisers.”

Your lips parted. Were you dreaming? You had known Sir Thomas Sharpe for several months now. There was no way he would desire a maid he had never spoken to before. Well, until tonight.

“Forgive me my straightforwardness. But am I correct when I say you too stole glances at me?”

He stepped closer, noticing how the cold was beginning to take a toll on you. The darkness of the night had wrapped itself around you both like a blanket and yet, it was bitterly cold.

His gentle gaze asked for permission before he took a hold of both your upper arms and pulled you closer towards him, his face remaining only mere inches from yours.

“I want you to be mine with every fibre of my being.” He whispered. Tears were burning in your eyes upon hearing his words. You were touched, honoured and… hopelessly in love. “Come with me to Allerdale Hall.”

“No… I… Thomas… I want this. I want you, more than anything! But this isn’t right… a maid and a baronet… they will come for me. Society will banish me. What about your sister?”

“My sister… Lucille does not know. I am aware of the risks and I know that I am asking way too much of you. But if you came to Allerdale Hall as a maid… to serve us… then sooner or later we would find a way. And I would get to marry you.”

It was much. It was too much. His confession, his offer to live in a haunted place, a rich mansion of all places and to be his maid while you secretly shared a bond made of unconditional love? It was insane and yet… you found yourself nodding, allowing him to seal your plan with a tender kiss.

“I am going to the post office. There are letters that are in need of my signature. By the time I am back, I expect the kitchen to be all clean.”

Lucille hated you. A few weeks had gone by since Thomas had “bought” you from your previous boss and you had moved in with the Sharpes. Perhaps she suspected something. The secret glances, the coy smiles, the subtle touches.

Thomas had let you in on his most sacred and most terrifying secret—that he and Lucille had been romantically involved, that they had shared intimacy despite being related this closely. And that Lucille had been planning on using his charm to get him to marry women from wealthy families and poison them to return Allerdale Hall to its former glory.

Now thanks to you, it was as good as new. Anything you had been able to clean and tidy up, you had taken care of—and Thomas trusting you with the darkness that lay heavily over his family’s legacy made you love him all the more.

You loved visiting him in his workshop in the attic, too. It was usually late at night when Lucille would head to bed that you would sneak out of your small room and join him up there to steal kisses, touches and the most heavenly sex you could ever have imagined having.

Society would frown upon you if only they knew you had lost your virginity to a man you were not yet married to. But you would do it again. Over and over again, you would remember his hands all over your body, his sweet kisses and his lustful thrusts back in that dark garden where he asked you to become his…

You bit your lower lip, breathing out when the entrance door fell shut and you were certain that Lucille had gone. You still had some laundry to do before you could get started with the kitchen, else she would be mad the sheets were wrinkly.

Folding them up neatly, you lost yourself in your memories of Thomas above you, caressing you and worshipping your body until you suddenly heard the door of the storage room open behind you.

A pair of big hands grabbed your waist, pulling you close against a strong body. Thomas buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.

“Thomas…” You whispered, his name leaving your lips like a prayer.

“She should be gone for two hours.” He said, his fingers grabbing fistfuls of the beautiful dress he had bought you and pushing it up until he had revealed your knickers. They came off fast, along with him unbuttoning his trousers and his own underwear.

Thomas leaned against the cupboard, one of his hands wrapping around your waist, the other stroking your breasts, one at a time. His waiting erection pressed against your bare butt cheeks and when he aligned himself with your entrance, finding you wet and wanton for him, a moan escaped your lips.

“Carried away by your fantasies, my love?”

“Always…” You choked out, gasping when he pushed inside and pressed you even further against the counter. You were trapped between him and the hard piece of furniture as he rocked into you all the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear, and when his hand slid down to where your bodies had joined, his fingers finding your clit and caressing it with circular movements that had you melt in his arms, you moaned. Over and over again, with every eager and hungry thrust until the entire storage room smelled of sex and desire.

Thomas knew which buttons to press, so to speak. He was an incredibly skilled and considerate lover and he never found his release without giving you yours first. He knew you were close when you pushed against his hand, your hips moving in unison and when you came, you clenched around him rhythmically, your tight walls gripping his length so tightly the baronet couldn’t help but give in to his orgasm as well. His warm seed filled you up until it came dribbling down your inner thighs.

Thomas jerked inside of you, dragging his climax out for as long as he could before cradling you in his arms.

“Tonight.” He murmured once you had both come down from your high and you could feel him soften inside of you. “We are leaving tonight. Lucille thinks I will take a trip to London for more advanced machinery parts. But you will come with me to assist me. In reality…”

He turned you around gently so you would face him. “In reality, I am going to take you to a church to marry you. No one—not even my sister—will be able to break that bond. I found a cottage just outside of London, in the east. We will find shelter there for the night. For privacy… and our wedding night.”

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you supported me on Kofi! ♥ ko-fi.com/sserpente Big hug!

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

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mostly-marvel-musings · 3 years

Note

Thomas Sharpe with Obsessed

Obsessed

Pairing: Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Warnings: stalking I guess..

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

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

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

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

And maybe it was.

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

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

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

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

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

That was just the beginning though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An admirer who despised another presence other than yours.

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

Spooktober Prompts 🍂☠️

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

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rootbeergoddess · 3 years

Text

Candle on the Water

First, thank you to the amazing and wonderful @positivelydetectivecomics for not just editing but also being my #1 fan girl and fellow Tom Hiddleston/Thomas Sharpe groupie. Second, this has to be one of the longest things I’ve ever written. It’s like twenty pages. I’m so shocked I managed to write this much! Anyways, this is a Little Mermaid AU for Crimson Peak because I want Thomas to be happy goddamnit.

The title is from the song Candle on the Water from Pete’s Dragon.

~*~

The ocean had always fascinated and terrified Thomas. It was vast, deep and endless. There was no way humans would ever be able to search the entirety of it. It offered up many beauties but also horrors. That didn’t mean he didn’t find it beautiful. He just preferred to enjoy it from the beach, not on a boat.

Boats made him nervous. Being an engineer, he could appreciate the beauty of a design but he didn’t think humans were meant to float. Plus, he got seasick. Why had he agreed to this forsaken cruise? Lucille was nowhere to be seen but he honestly preferred to be alone right now. Her presence had become smothering. He had known that sooner or later this farce of a relationship would have to end and he could see the end in sight. Avoiding her wasn’t his best strategy but he still needed time to think. How could he tell his sister that he was done with her?

I'll be your candle on the water

My love for you will always burn

I know your lost and drifting,

But the clouds are lifting

Don't give up you have somewhere to turn

Thomas lifted his head, scanning the ocean. Singing, someone was singing. It was a song he had never heard but it was the most melodic thing he had ever heard. But he was confused. The voice was coming from the water. That was impossible unless it was a really talented manatee. There were no islands for miles and they weren’t even remotely close to the shore. Was this a trick?

I'll be your candle on the water

Till every wave is warm and bright

My soul is there beside you,

Let this candle guide you

Soon you'll see a golden stream of light

Confusion was replaced with curiosity. Thomas scanned the ocean, desperate to find the source of the song. He walked along the deck, his eyes never leaving the waters. Then, he spotted it. Sitting on a rock, he saw a woman with her eyes up to the sky and her mouth opened.

A cold and friendless tide has found you

Don't let the stormy darkness pull you down

I'll paint a ray of hope around you

Circling in the air, lighted by a prayer

The boat was getting closer and Thomas gasped when he got a better look. It wasn’t a woman, it was a mermaid. She had no legs but a dark, blue tail of scales. Her long hair was in a braid with seashells and starfish. Around the rock were a group of fish and a few other sea creatures, all listening to her song. He wasn’t sure why he did but Thomas stood on the railing. Her voice was so pure and rich, he had to hear more.

I'll be your candle on the water

This flame inside of me will grow

Keep holding on, you'll make it

Here's my hand so take it

Look for me reaching out to show

As sure as rivers flow,

I'll never let you go

Her song was done and Thomas’ heart felt heavy. Then, she looked away from the sky and their eyes met. Thomas wanted to say something, anything but at that moment, he lost his footing and fell into the water.

~*~

You dove right into action when you saw the human hit the water.

Humans were not born natural swimmers like mermaids were. They had to be taught how to swim and some of them never learned the skill. They also didn’t possess gills or any means of breathing underwater. This human could drown without your help and as you dove under the water, you could see him struggling. The poor thing was terrified.

You swam to him and when you reached him, you saw the fear in his eyes. Instantly, you felt bad. He had been listening to you, that was why he was standing on that large, metal thing and he had slipped. How foolish were you? Without wasting a moment, you grabbed him and swam back up to the surface. He gasped for air, desperate to fill his lungs.

“Easy, easy,” You rubbed his back.

The humans on the metal contraption were in a tizzy; they were searching for him, you suspected. There had to be a way to get him back to where he belonged without you getting spotted. As you thought, you felt the human’s eyes on you and you turned to face him. His fear was gone and was replaced by adoration. It was odd but you felt a bit shy suddenly.

“You’re a mermaid,” He said.

“Yes,” You said. “And you’re a human.”

“You’re beautiful.”

You felt your face flush. Other merfolk had told you that you were beautiful, you were the king’s daughter after all. So, why did this human make you feel weak? The thought was pushed to the back of your mind when you came up with a solution to your predicament.

“Oberon,” You said.

“What?” He asked.

Around your neck was a shell necklace; in the middle was a small, blue conch shell with holes drilled into it. You placed the tip of it into your mouth and then blew into it. The human watched you, entranced by everything you did.

“What is that?” He asked.

“It’s how I call my friends,” You said. “Oberon should be here any minute.”

“Is he a friend of yours? Is he a merperson like you? How did you meet him?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” You said, smiling.

“I’m sorry but---I thought mermaids were a myth,” He said. “And I’ve never met such a captivating creature before in my life.”

Again, familiar words but your heart swelled at this.

“Do you have a name?” He asked, his eyes scanning every inch of your face.

“Y/N. Do you have one?”

“Thomas. Thomas Sharpe.”

Before you could ask anymore questions, a large tentacle poked out of the ocean. Thomas screamed but you quickly covered his mouth.

“No, it’s okay,” You told him. “This is Oberon. He’s going to help you back onto your---floating island.”

“You can talk to a giant octopus?” Thomas asked. “That’s incredible I---wait, you mean you’re leaving?”

He sounded disappointed. Guilt returned to you but you knew you were doing the right thing.

“I have too, it’s too dangerous,” You said. “If someone else were to find me, they’d gut me like a fish or worse.”

“Will I ever get a chance to see you again?” He asked.

“It’s probably better to forget about me,” You gave him a sad smile. “Goodbye, Thomas.”

You placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and dove back into the water. Oberon wrapped a tentacle around Thomas’ waist and soon, he was gone. Sighing, he delved deeper into the depths towards your home, thinking he’d forget about the experience completely.

~*~

Thomas didn’t forget.

When Y/N had swum away, he was ready to go after her He was no match for Oberon though; the massive octopus placed him back on the boat as if it was nothing. He watched as the tentacles receded into the water, leaving him behind. He wanted to throw himself back into the water to swim after her but it was a foolish idea. Y/Nwere faster than him, how would he catch up to her?

Lucille had found him and she was furious, blaming everyone from the captain to the cook. Thomas let her fret over him but his mind was elsewhere. A mermaid; he had met a real life mermaid named Y/N. The fairy tales he had read as a child hadn’t done Y/N justice; she was a million times more beautiful than anything in any book. The rest of the trip felt like a blur to him. Lucille didn’t let him out of her sight. This would have annoyed him but he was more focused on finding Y/N again. Each day was spent on the deck, praying and hoping he’d hear her golden tone again. Lucille pestered him, asking him what he was looking for but he never told her. Would she believe him? Who cared about that, he was worried about Y/N’s safety.

“If someone else were to find me, they’d gut me like a fish or worse.”

Lucille was the or worse. Thomas longed to see Y/N again but he couldn’t stand the thought of Lucille discovering her. She would take such joy in destroying the beautiful maid. Even if he ever saw her again,he would do all in his power to make sure Lucille would never find out.

They returned to land two days later. Lucille was doing everything in her power to get Thomas’ attention back.

“Thomas, you need to stop daydreaming and focus again,” Lucille nagged. “I don’t know what happened that night but it seems to have affected you more than you’re letting on.”

“I’m fine,” He lied. “I wished you’d believe me.”

“You know I can tell when you’re lying,” Lucille grabbed his hand. “I know you too well.”

She was right but that didn’t change anything. Thomas couldn’t remember how or when he realized the relationship he had with his sister was wrong. No, not wrong; twisted. Loving his sister in that way had been wrong but he hadn’t stopped it or even tried until now. Meeting Y/Nh had just made him want to distance himself from Lucille even more.

When they reached home, Thomas still found himself distracted. He tried to work on his machine but it was impossible. He was dying to see Y/N again. The only issue was he had no idea how to find her. He felt hopeless; would he ever be able to find her again? Thinking of being unable to reunite with Y/N filled him with dread. For days, he felt aimless. Two weeks after the trip, he decided to take a ride to clear his mind.

Thomas found himself drawn to the beach. It was hopeless but he thought that maybe he’d be able to spot a glimpse of her again. He had the carriage stop and he popped out, surveying the land before him. He stopped when he saw something on the beach; a body. Confusion filled him as he headed down on the warm sand and walked towards the unmoving person. His heart nearly stopped when he realized who it was.

“Y/N?”

Carefully, he turned the woman on her back. Yes, it was Y/N. He caressed her face and her eyes fluttered open. When she saw him, she managed a weak smile.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I didn’t want to forget,” she replied.

~*~

Thomas wrapped you in his coat and helped you walk towards his carriage. You stopped when you saw the two huge, black creatures.

“What are those?” You asked, scared.

“They’re just horses,” Thomas said. “They’re beasts of burden we use in our day to day life.”

“They’re so big,” You said. “They look like they want to eat me.”

“It’s alright,” Thomas assured you. “Watch.”

He made a clicking noise with his tongue and the horses looked his way. He reached out, rubbing the snout of one. You watched with awe, amazed that such large creatures would bend to him. The horse noticed you and you shrank away but Thomas took your hand in his. Then, he carefully placed it on the horse’s snout.

“It’s soft,” you said, “I thought they would vanish. They look like they’re made of shadows.”

Thomas chuckled at this and you smiled. You ignored the looks of the driver as Thomas helped you into the carriage. Fascinated by this new mode of transportation, you sat down and ran your hands over the cushions of the seats. Thomas sat down next to you, watching you as you felt the fabric.

“Y/N?”

You looked at him.

“How---how are you here?” He asked.

“It’s a rather long story,” You said.

“I’d love to hear it.”

So, you told him. You told him about how after meeting him, you kept thinking of him. No matter what you did, you couldn’t forget him and it was driving you mad. Your sisters had noticed and asked what was wrong but you lied, telling them you were thinking about how you wanted a new seashell necklace. After two weeks, you decided enough was enough and you had to do something about it.

You had to see Thomas again.

Under the cover of night, you snuck off into the deepest, darkest waters to the home of Morwenna, the sea witch. After explaining your problem, she told you she would help you but she warned you it was dangerous.

That part you didn’t tell Thomas. You didn’t want him to know what giving up your tail would potentially cost. Or that if he didn’t feel anything for you, you’d turn into seafoam.

Morwenna had one of her anglerfish take you towards the surface along with a potion and a sack full of jewels. According to the witch, humans had to ‘pay’ for things. The jewels would help you do so. Once you drank the liquid, your tail started to split and you felt imessnese pain. It was so bad that you blacked out. You think the angelfish pushed you towards the shore but you weren’t sure. As you told Thomas this, he never took his eyes off of you.

“I’m so happy to see you again,” he said, “These past two weeks have been such a nightmare.”

“They have?”

“I’ve done nothing but think of you,” he admitted.

“Then I made your life miserable.” You felt awful.

“No, don’t think that! I can’t explain it but meeting you--it’s changed me,” Thomas turned your face to look at him. “You have no idea how happy I am that you’re here.”

“So you’re not upset?”

“No. Although I wish you had been able to contact me,” Thomas smiled. “I could have brought you a dress.”

“A what?”

You soon learned what a dress was. The carriage arrived in town and once you saw other people, you pressed your face against the window. There were so many people, dressed in such odd fabrics. Thomas stopped the carriage and told you to wait for him. You pouted at first but he promised you’d be able to leave the carriage soon. Not wanting to upset him, you agreed to wait. A few minutes later, Thomas returned with two women.

“Hello!” you greeted them happily.

“Oh you poor thing!” one of them said, “Look at the state you're in.”

“I’m not poor or a thing,” you said but they ignored you.

“Come here dearest, we’ll get you cleaned up and we’ll find something proper for you to wear.”

You were confused and looked at Thomas. He gave you a small nod. Well, if he trusted these humans, you trusted them. They helped you out of the carriage, making sure Thomas' coat covered all of you and ushered you into a building. They took you towards the back and gave you a simple ‘dress’ to wear. You stared at it, wondering what to do with it. It was such an odd thing, why did humans wear them?

“Here dearie,” One of them said. “Let me help you.”

You were thankful for the help. Once you were dressed, they began to ‘measure’ you. Measuring involved some long, yellow thing and a lot of notes. Curious, you grabbed at the yellow item and tugged at it.

“What is it?” You asked, holding it up.

“A measuring tape dear. Poor thing, your amnesia must be terrible. You don't remember anything.”

“I do remember things! I remember my name, it’s Y/N,” You said. “And who are you?”

“I’m Miss Chatterly and this is my daughter Elizabeth,” The elder of the two said. “Now stand still darling. We’re going to get your measurements and find you a dress.”

“Must I wear a dress?”

“Of course dear, you want to be a proper woman, don’t you?”

You thought about this for a second.

“If I’m a proper woman, will Thomas like me?” you asked.

“I think he already likes you, my sweet,” Miss Chatterley chuckled. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, he’s obviously smitten.”

Smitten: you liked that word. You tried to be obedient and not move but everything was so interesting! Thankfully, Miss Chatterley and Elizabeth were patient as well as they were kind. After taking your measurements, Elizabeth went to start working on some dresses while Miss Chatterley found something for you to wear in the meantime. It was a gorgeous deep blue with white pearl buttons and black, lace detail on the back. While you didn’t understand the point of dresses, it was pretty.

“It’s beautiful!” You said. “I love it!”

You needed some help walking out to Thomas. Walking was already hard enough but the dress made this difficult. Why did the women on the surface torture themselves like this? But you had to be proper. Only a proper lady could win Thomas’ heart. Thomas smiled when he saw you.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“I feel beautiful if not a bit strange,” you replied. “The colors remind me of the ocean.”

“Now be careful dearest,” Miss Chatterley said, “It seems like you’ve forgotten how to walk too.”

“I’ve never walked before! I can’t forget something I never learned,” you said.

“You were right, Sir Thomas,” Miss Chatterley tutted, “That bump on the head must have really scrambled her noggin.”

“Indeed it has,” Thomas said, taking your hand, “I found her passed out and naked on the beach. I have no idea what happened to her but I vowed to make sure she was taken care of.”

That wasn’t a total lie but you were confused. Why did everyone keep talking about your head? You took the bag of jewels Thomas had been holding and reached into it. You pulled out a large sapphire and placed it in Miss Chatterley’s hand.

“Thank you for my first dress,” you said, wrapping your hand around hers. “I’ll cherish this forever.”

“My dear, this is too much,” she began to protest.

“Please, take it,” you smiled, “I cannot let your kindness go unrewarded.”

“Oh goodness, thank you love,” Miss Chatterley grinned at you.

Thomas led you back out of the building, keeping a firm grip on you as you tried to walk. This was frustrating; Thomas made it look so easy.

“Here, watch my legs,” he said. “It’s one foot in front of the other.”

“It still feels peculiar,” you said, “It’s not like swimming at all. How come it’s so easy for you?”

“Well, I had to learn as well,” Thomas said, leading you back to the carriage. “You see, when humans are babies, we can’t walk at all. We start off by crawling, then we push ourselves up and start to toddle.”

“That’s fascinating! Tell me more,” you said. “Please? I want to learn more about humans. And I have questions too. Why did you tell Miss Chatterley I bumped my head?”

“Into the carriage first and then I’ll tell you more,” Thomas said.

You obeyed and got back into the carriage. It started again but instead of staring out the window, you leaned against Thomas. He tensed a bit before putting an arm around you.

“I remember you said that it was dangerous if anyone were to find out that you’re a mermaid,” he said. “So in order to not arouse suspicion, I told them you had bumped your head and gotten amnesia. It’s a condition where people lose their memory. That way no one would think you were odd for not understanding certain concepts.”

“Like dresses?”

“Yes, like dresses,” he chuckled, “Do you really dislike it?”

“No but it’s hard to move in,” you said. “But it’s what a proper lady does so I must wear one. What else does a proper lady do?”

“In all honesty, I prefer you just the way you are,” he said.

His words made your heart soar. There was so much you wanted to tell him but you remained silent. Was it proper for a woman to declare how she felt for a man or should she stay quiet? This was all confusing; why couldn’t relationships be easier?

“But what do proper ladies do?” you persisted.

“I suppose I’m the wrong person to answer that,” Thomas said with a smile. “But I suppose we could find someone to help you learn.”

“Like Miss Chatterley? She was so kind. And her daughter,” you said, “How sweet of them to make me dresses!”

“I suppose you could ask them your questions,” Thomas said as the carriage. “Alright, so this is where you’ll be staying.”

You looked out the carriage to see a large building. It was bigger than the other one and there were so many more people. As Thomas helped you out, you couldn’t stop looking at everything. Thomas led you to a human behind a large piece of wood who greeted you both.

“Hello good sir, I was hoping you would have a room for rent,” Thomas said. “I’ll be paying upfront and it’ll be for this young lady.”

“Of course sir,” the man said.

You were given a key and led to a room. Instantly, you were drawn to a large item in the middle of it. You walked over to it and touched it. Oh, it was soft. You got on top of it, finding it was also bouncy.

“What is this?” you asked Thomas.

“A bed,” Thomas said, “You sleep on it.”

“But it’s not made of coral,” you said, “And where are the fish?”

Curious, you crawled over to the edge of the bed and looked down. No, you didn’t see any fish.

“Do mermaids sleep in coral reefs?” Thomas asked.

“Yes and the fish keep us company,” you said, turning back to him, “Will I like a bed?”

“I think you will,” Thomas said smiling, “Will you be content here?”

There was something about his tone that felt off.

“You aren’t going to stay here with me, are you?”

Thomas’ smile vanished.

“I want to stay with you but--I need to keep you safe,” Thomas said, “I can’t explain it right now but there is someone in my life who wouldn't like you.”

“Why?” You asked.

How could someone dislike you if you hadn’t even met them yet? Surely you couldn’t have made this person angry without having done something to them. You waited for Thomas to say something, growing a tad frustrated. Crossing your arms, you sat on the bed and turned your head away from him.

“Y/N,” he said gently. “I have to keep you safe. I promise, I’ll come to see you everyday but for now, please stay here. Where it’s safe.”

“Fine,” you said, not looking at him.

Were you being petty? Maybe, but you came all this way for Thomas. You were risking everything. There was a chance you’d never see your father or sisters again. If Thomas didn’t love you, you’d turn into seafoam and never be able to swim again. Why couldn’t he understand that?

“You can leave now,” you added, still feeling angry.

Thomas walked to you, getting down on his knees.

“Y/N,” he said, taking your hand, “If anything were to happen to you, I'd never forgive myself.”

You stole a glance at Thomas; his blue eyes were shining with sincerity. It was hard to stay angry at him when he looked at you that way. While you wished he’d stay with you, you had to trust him. Thomas was the only human you knew.

“Alright,” you said, “But you’ll come visit me right?”

“Of course,” Thomas said with a smile, “I promise to come back later for dinner but for now, stay put.”

“Okay Thomas.”

~*~

Thomas was enamored and worried at the exact same time.

Of course, he was enamored with Y/N. She was so different from the women around him. She was sweet, friendly and so curious. Constantly, she was asking questions. Other people seemed to fall under her spell as she became interested in everything around her. When he was with Y/N, all the she did was talk about the wonderful things the surface had to offer. Thomas was thankful that he could answer most of her questions.

He was worried because he knew it was only a matter of time before Lucille found out. Lucille’s anger was terrifying. Thomas had never been on the receiving end of it thankfully but he had seen it. She was also a possessive woman; if Lucille saw him with Y/N, he’s not sure what he’d do. Run? Hide her? All he knew was that protecting Y/N was of the utmost importance.

“Thomas, what are they doing?”

It was a nice, sunny day and the pair were walking along the busy streets of England. Y/N stopped to point at a four piece band, playing some music.

“They’re playing music,” He said.

He should have realized she would have been interested and Y/N walked towards the men, completely engrossed. But then she started to sing.

Ah Danny boy, the pipes,

The pipes are calling

From glen to glen,

And down the mountain side

People stopped what they were doing and started to listen to Y/N’s melodic voice. It was amazing how one voice held such power. Thomas beamed as people surrounded her to listen to her perfect voice, his heart almost bursting with joy. The more time he spent with Y/N, the deeper in love he fell. He wanted to tell her so badly how he felt but he kept stopping. He’d have to deal with Lucille first, then he could tell Y/N

Applause rang out once she finished singing. After thanking the musicians, Y/N ran back over to Thomas.

“Oh Thomas, wasn’t that wonderful?” She asked.

“Of course it was,” Thomas said. “Anytime you sing, it’s wonderful. But how did you know the words?”

“I just do,” she replied smiling, “Mermaids have the ability to know all songs but we each have a special one.”

“Like the one you sang the first night we met?” Thomas asked.

“Yes,” she smiled again, making his heart giddy. “We’re each born with a song in our heart. Candle on the Water is mine.”

“It’s a beautiful song,” Thomas said.

“Well,” she blushed, “It’s also a special song. You see---oh nevermind.”

“What? Don’t become shy now,” Thomas teased, “Tell me.”

“Merfolk find their soulmates through song,” she continued, “Our special song is supposed to connect to our soulmate and lead us to them.”

Thomas felt his heart stop. He took hold of Y/N’s hand and she stopped walking.

“By any chance, does the song work on humans?” he asked.

“I---I don’t know,” she replied, fidgeting slightly, “Is there a reason as to why you’re asking?

Thomas swallowed, staring into her eyes. He felt heat course through his body as Y/N closed her eyes and inched closer. Thomas was about to do the same when someone called his name.

“Thomas?”

Thomas’ blood went cold as he turned to see his sister. Lucille said nothing at first, staring at Y/N with a cold, calculating look. Lucille was analyzing Y/N, seeing if she was a threat. Thomas prayed that Y/N would appear weak and helpless; that was the only way she’d be safe. With a tight lipped smile, Lucille looked back at Thomas.

“Who is this?” she asked.

“Oh, this is just an old acquaintance of mine,” Thomas said, laying a protective hand on Y/N. “Y/N, this is my sister Lucille.”

“A pleasure,” Y/N said curtly.

Maybe it was because their romantic moment had been ruined or she sensed Lucille’s venom but Y/N’s usually sunny dispotiston vanished. Thomas wasn’t sure if Lucille bought Thomas' lie but she continued to smile, acting as if everything was fine.

“You’ve never mentioned her before,” Lucille continued, “I would think you’d mention such a good friend of yours.”

“I’m sorry, I must be going,” Y/N said suddenly, “Good day.”

Thomas watched as Y/N bolted down the street. His heart told him to chase after her but his brain told him to stop. If he made a scene, Lucille would realize Y/N was more than a friend. It hurt him to do so but Thomas let Y/N slip away. She looked back once but her eyes were sad.

“Thomas,” Lucille said, “I thought you said you had a meeting today.”

“I did,” Thomas lied, “But the meeting ended early and as I was heading back home, I happened to run into Y/N. We were just talking, remembering the old days.”

“Thomas,” Lucille stepped closer to him, “I know when you’re lying to me. Tell me, who is she?”

“No one you need to worry about,” Thomas said. “Let’s go home.”

~*~

Thomas had mentioned Lucille to you before. She was his sister but Thomas didn’t talk of her lovingly, andhere was something off about their relationship. Thomas hadn’t stated it out right but you weren’t going to push him to talk about it. If he wanted to tell you, he would. Meeting Lucille confirmed your sucsopions about her; she was evil. There was a bad aura around her, you could feel it. Thomas had tensed up when he had heard her voice.

It had been two days since you had last seen Thomas and your heart was heavy. There was only one day left before you’d turn into seafoam. You were standing by the window, looking out towards the ocean. You missed Oberon and regretted not saying goodbye to him when you had the chance. The shell you used to call him was still around your neck, but you hadn’t used it in days. Maybe you could go say goodbye tonight. With another sigh, you grabbed your coat and headed to the door.

You were shocked to find Lucille standing there.

“Lucille,” you said, stepping back.

“Y/N,” Lucille’s voice was icy, “Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Oh,” you touched the shell around your neck, “I’ll be leaving town soon. I was going to say goodbye to a friend.”

“How quaint,” Lucille smiled but there was no warmth to it, “And what of Thomas?”

Your heart clenched.

“I don’t want to bother him,” you said, stepping past Lucille, “Excuse me.”

Lucille grabbed your arm, twisting it and making you wince.

“Yet you’ve been bothering him,” Lucille sneered, “Instead of working, he comes here to visit you, doesn’t he? I knew he was hiding something. I know him better than he knows himself, you see. I’ve been with him since the beginning.”

“Lucille, please let go,” you said.

“He needs me,” Lucille continued. “I’m the one who has always protected him. I protected him from mother and everyone else. They tried to take him away from me but we’re meant to be together.”

“What are you talking about?” you tried to get free, “Let me go.”

“You’re a distraction, a commodity, something to entertain him,” Lucille’s eyes looked mad, “But he always comes back to me. No one loves him the way I do.”

Realization hit you like a ton of bricks.

“That’s disgusting!” You managed to get your hand free. “You’re his sister!”

“Who are you to judge us?” Lucille stalked towards you, “You’re a little nothing with no name, no family, no title. You’re just a mysterious whore who has bewitched my brother. How long do you think you’d hide?”

“I’m leaving,” you said, trying to get to the stairs, “I’ll forget about Thomas and never come back.”

“That’s not good enough!”

Lucille grabbed you and turned you around, a knife in her hand. Fear seized your body as she pointed it towards your neck.

“You’re coming with me.”

The streets were barren as Lucille marched you down towards the pier. Tears streamed down your face as you obeyed, your heart twisted and body hurting. Tomorrow would come and you’d be no more. Your father, your sisters and Obreon; you’d never get to see them again. It all hurt but what hurt the most was not being able to see Thomas again. What a fool you had been; all this time and you hadn’t been able to tell him.

You stumbled as you reached the docks. Lucille grabbed you by the hair, forced you up. Your legs felt weak as your bones began to fade. Tears continued to roll down your cheeks as you marched towards your fate. Even if you jumped into the water, you couldn’t swim for long before you transformed into seafoam. How you wished you could call Oberon but with Lucille at your back, you were afraid to make a move.

“You’re going to jump into the water and drown yourself,” Lucille commanded, “In the morning, I’ll tell Thomas that you’ve left. Saddened and heartbroken, he’ll be mine once more.”

Anger filled you; how dare she treat Thomas like an object. This wasn’t love, it was obsession. Maybe you’d die or turn into foam but you wanted to take one more risk. Just one more. Sighing, you opened up your mouth and began to sing.

I'll be your candle on the water

My love for you will always burn

I know your lost and drifting,

But the clouds are lifting

Don't give up you have somewhere to turn

“What are you doing?” Lucille pressed the knife to your back, “Stop that.”

But you didn’t stop. You kept singing. IF the legends were true, Thomas would hear you wherever you were. Even when Lucille pushed the knife into your back, you continued to sing through the pain.

“Lucille, stop!”

You turned around to see Thomas standing behind the two of you. You smiled but Lucille pushed the knife in deeper, making you cry out.

“I won’t stop until she’s dead!” Lucille shouted, “You swore you’d never fall in love with anyone else.”

“I’m sorry Lucille,” Thomas took a step forward, “I---I heard her song.”

It was true. Thomas was your soulmate. Your song had reached him and he had used it to find you. Lucille looked confused but only for a second. Enraged, she took the knife out of your back and you slumped down, unable to stand. The loss of blood and your body changing was too much to bear.

“Are you saying you love her?” Lucille asked.

“Yes,” Thomas got closer, “Lucille, I fell in love with her the moment I heard her song.”

Lucille stared at Thomas, bewildered. Her grip was still on the knife and you realized something; once you were dead, she’d kill Thomas. With what little strength you had, you grabbed the shell and placed it to your lips. Lucille knocked the shell out of your hand and raised the knife to stab you again. You heard Thomas shout her name but it was no use; she was in a blind rage.

“This is all your fault!” she shouted.

Closing your eyes, you braced for impact. Then you heard bubbling in the water. The knife fell from Lucille’s hand and you opened your eyes to see a familiar tentacle. Lucille backed away, terrified as Oberon came out from the depths, his golden eyes filled with anger. The octopus lashed out and grabbed her by the waist, tossing her up like she weighed nothing. Thomas ran to your side, watching as Oberon broke Lucille’s waist. Once she was dead, Oberon threw her into the ocean and got closer to the dock.

“Oh, Oberon,” you said sadly, “I missed you. I’m so sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”

“No,” Thomas grabbed your hand. “Y/N, please don’t talk like that.”

“I’m sorry Thomas,” you said, pressing your head to his. “I’m too late. I never told you that I love you.”

“Too late? What do you mean?”

“She’s talking about the price for her legs,” a familiar voice said.

You turned around to see Oberon held Morwenna the sea witch on one tentacle. The crab woman stepped onto the dock and walked over to you.

“Morwenna?” you asked.

“You see,” Morwenna crouched down, “For a merfolk to stay on the surface with their human love, they must confess their feelings and those feelings must be recioprated. If not, they turn into seafoam.”

“What? Y/N, why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” Thomas asked.

“I didn’t want you to fake your feelings,” you said, “But it’s okay. I made peace with what is going to happen to me.”

“Oh, you needn’t be dramatic dear,” Morwenna reached into a pouch around her waist, “You won’t be going anywhere. Here, eat this.”

Morwenna offered you a pearl and you popped it into your mouth. It burst, releasing a bitter liquid into your mouth. You gagged.

“What was that?” Thomas asked.

“For her wound,” Morwenna said. “Now, stand up dear.”

Your confusion was growing but Morwenna seemed so calm. Thomas stood up and offered his hand. You took it and found your legs were working. In fact, they felt firm.

“I don’t understand,” you said, “I was too late.”

“No, you weren’t,” Morwenna grinned, pointing to Thomas, “His confession saved you.”

“It did? So, can I stay?” you turned to Thomas, “With you?”

“Y/N,” Thomas caressed your face, “From the moment I saw you, I adored you. I’ve been wanting to tell you how much I loved you for days but I was too afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” you asked.

“Afraid of rejection, afraid Lucille would find you,” he said, “But now she’s gone. Please Y/N, stay with me. I love you.”

Oberon suddenly burbled, his big, round eyes tinged with sadness.

“Oh Oberon,” you smiled at him, “I’ll never forget you, how could I? You saved us both. I will visit you, I promise. But my home is on the surface now.”

Oberon reached out his tentacle and rubbed your face. He then playfully grabbed Thomas' hat, pushing it down on his face.

“He’s saying he trusts you,” you told Thomas.

“Well then,” Thomas fixed his hat, “Thank you Oberon. I promise I’ll keep her safe, no matter what the costs.”

“Happy endings all around,” Morwenna said, “I’m so happy things worked out for you dear.”

“But it wouldn’t have been possible without you,” you said, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“No thanks are necessary,” Morwenna walked back towards the sea, “I’ll tell your father you're safe. He’ll probably come to visit so be on the lookout. Farewell you two.”

You waved goodbye as Morwenna climbed onto Oberon’s head and they departed. When they were gone, you turned to Thomas.

“I love you,” you said.

“I love you too,” he returned.

And finally, you kissed him.

#Rootbeer Writes #Crimson Peak #Crimson Peak AU #Sir Thomas Sharpe #Thomas Sharpe #Thomas Sharpe x Reader #Female Reader #Self Insert #tw: incest mention #mermaid #AU

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frostbitten-written · 4 years

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

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

Summary:

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

Preview:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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sourholland · 3 years

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A Royal Convenience || Tom Holland

| Series Masterlist |

Part Seven

Summary → When an alliance is made between England and France, you are sent away to marry the crown prince and heir to the British throne. Except both you and Prince Thomas despise each other at all odds, subjected to the hand of the monarchy and unable to stand each other.

AN → So this chapter could potentially be a bit triggering for some people, it is pretty descriptive into the beheading of someone. I would like to preface this in saying that I do not support capital punishment, nor do I support the death penalty. This is merely a work of fiction, and I am only trying to bring to life history. Anyways, this chapter is something else. Let me know what you guys think, I’m sure you’ll have some thoughts.

Pairing(s) → Prince!Tom x Princess!Reader

Warnings → Angst, Beheading - Descriptive, Blood, Vomit - Descriptive, Light Smut, Choking Kink, Alcohol, Language, Intended Oral Sex - Female Receiving, Knife Play

Word Count → 4.5k

“I want to leave, please just let me go home,” you pleaded.

It was only you and Tom at the heart of the throne room. After the whole shooting ordeal, he’d rushed you back and demanded the audience of the King.

You were both waiting, still suffering from the shakes, you could only beg and pray that he would let you go. Tears stung the backs of your eyes, cheeks hot and feverish. Tom had sent all of the guards away, not caring that it wasn’t proper for you both to be alone without a chaperone.

“Please, Tom,” you almost whispered.

“You can’t go home, Y/N,” he replied simply, peering over at you from his spot parallel to where you stood.

“I was just shot at! What more could you people want to see in order to let me go home? I miss my mother, I wish to see my mother,” you shouted at him.

“I couldn’t let you go even if I wanted to.”

“But you do want to?”

Silence. Tom said nothing. He only straightened his posture a bit, looking away from you and back to the door. The King had still not come, there had been an attempted assassination and the King of England could not be bothered to grace his own son with his presence.

“This is why I told them to take you back to your chambers,” he murmured to himself.

“You can hardly look at me!” You marched up to him, taking a free hand and pressing it to his chest in anger and frustration. “Look at me, Thomas.”

His eyes slowly lifted from the ground to your eyes, your breath staggering from the rage and sudden proximity. There was an intimacy in the way you both seemed to get yourselves into these situations. It was a change for you to initiate something like this, especially since anyone could come through those large double doors at any point.

“Please,” you begged.

“You don’t get it do you?” He asked, eyes falling to the dip of your lips, parting at the curve of your Cupid’s bow. “You and I, we haven’t got a way out of this. It’s for life, Y/N. There is no running, not really. Don’t you think I’m tired? This life is exhausting, but it’s bigger than both of us. There’s no out, no going home. The sooner you accept that, the sooner this’ll all become a lot easier for you.”

“I hope you’re saying that when our heads, or God forbid, the heads of our children—”

The doors opened and King Dominic and his entourage came through, there was hardly any urgency in the way he walked. You and Tom quickly stepped away from each other, he stood taller, bowing as his father sat. You gave a quick and anxious curtsy.

“You’ve clearly been quite busy, I didn’t expect an act of high treason to pull you away from whatever important engagement you were wasting your time with,” Tom scowled.

“Do watch yourself, Thomas,” the King responded.

“Did you not hear about the man who attempted to put a bullet through my skull?” He question, tone raising.

“From what I’ve heard, the bullet was directed towards Princess Y/N, meaning this was hardly even an attack on the Crown.”

“She is the Crown! We’re to be wed in less than three weeks, she’s practically the Princess of Wales already!”

You stood in silence, wondering whether or not you should step in. Tom told you to go back to your wing of Buckingham Palace when you’d both come back, but you refused. He was shifting uncomfortably under his father’s intense gaze.

“Maybe so, but not yet. I’ll have the bastard’s head, hell, you can even watch if you’d like. I won’t cause an uproar within the country, this is far from the first attempted assassination of the Crown, nor will it be the last,” the King boomed.

“What if that bullet had landed between my eyes, my head blown apart within seconds? What would you have done then?” Tom asked him, brows furrowed.

“You have three brothers, one of which would probably do the job better than you,” he responded, coughing into the handkerchief he pulled from his pocket.

You took in a sharp breath, wondering how any decent person could say such a thing. Tom stiffened, his lips forming a fine line. There was something lacking between the two men, you hadn’t seen it before, but now it was clear as day. There was absolutely no love, no compassion. You were staring at a King and his successor.

“That’s an awful thing to say,” you finally said.

“Don’t, Y/N,” Tom leaned over to you.

King Dominic’s eyes scanned over you, eyes flickering from you to Tom. The room was almost silent, the ruffling of your dress pooling at your feet filling the air.

“You are quite a pretty little thing,” he mused. “Shame, you know? That you have no clue when to keep that mouth shut.”

“And why is that?” You asked him, stepping forward.

“If you hadn’t been brought here from France, I’m not sure you’d have been very popular among suitors.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t exist to cater to anyone’s domestic pursuits, isn’t it?”

Your gaze did not falter, King Dominic’s eyes piercing your own. He was dressed in fine satin, but this did not distract you from the fact that there were deep purple crescent shapes, littered in purple and indigo underneath his eyes. The King’s sallow skin was discolored against his sunken in eyes, and downturned mouth.

“She’ll bear witness to the beheading,” King Dominic remarked, pushing up against his throne to stand.

“What?” Tom asked very suddenly, stepping in front of his father. “She’s eighteen, practically a child! You cannot expect her to watch something like that!” He shouted, waiting for his father to let go of his pride.

“If she can stand before me—acting as if she is King, and not I, she can watch the man you ordered to die be executed.”

Tom went to argue, but was met with his father’s hand held high in his wake. He slumped back in defeat, sighing as the King turned in front of him. There was hardly anything you thought he could say, and nearly nothing he could do.

You let out a shaky breath, holding your abdomen with a free hand. There was nothing you wanted more than to be in your mother’s arms, or to sleep in your old bed. Yet, you stood in the throne room of Buckingham Palace, having just been shot at and conspired against.

“The Tower of London. Tomorrow.”

This was all he said, turning his back to both of you and walking off. Tom said nothing, not until a man came in after his father had left and leaned into his ear, an unreadable expression passing over his face.

“He was Danish?” He asked the unfamiliar man.

“Yes, sir. I am sure of it, it is all we were able to get out of him.”

“Leave us,” Tom motioned towards the door.

As the man left, he turned to you with a look as set as stone. He was upset, yet somber at the same time. Something about the way he was staring at you left the hairs at the nape of your neck standing up. You couldn’t help but step forward, feeling the need to steady yourself.

“Do you remember when the Prince from Denmark and I had a row?”

“I would hardly classify that as a row, you are still battered from hitting him so hard. When I saw him today, his face looked worse than it had that night,” you said.

“Y/N, you have no reason to listen to me, or to trust anything I say, but please heed my words, do not engage with Nikolai again. I cannot stress—”

“Is this what you do now? Tell me whom I can and cannot see. I have nothing, Tom! My life has been seized from me, and now I cannot even dictate who I see?”

Tom’s hand just barely brushed your own, his head bent to look directly into your eyes. There was an urgency in them, something telling you that this was bigger than both of you. You remembered the way he had held you down when those shots were fired, and the way he held your hand.

“You’re right—about all of it. I am asking you, Y/N, not as the Prince of Wales, or even as Thomas. I’m asking you as your husband, as the man you have been dealt in the most unfortunate of circumstances. Please, just stay away from him until I can be sure of something. This is all I ask of you, and even then, I deserve nothing from you. So in this moment, right now, you and I are not the next King and Queen of England. We are simply a man and a woman, nothing else.”

His words came out pleadingly, his fingers curling around your wrist. The pad of his thumb dipped underneath your glove. The skin on skin contact made you shiver, wondering whether or not Tom was being serious in his words. Nonetheless, you nodded feverishly, feeling him let out a deep breath of relief.

The carriage ride and walk into the large and extremely ancient looking castle, seemed to blur together. You were dressed darkly, a short veil covering your face in an almost sheer material.

Tom was beside you, his hand lightly cupping your elbow as the both of you entered the large room at what felt like the heart of the Tower of London. Prince Harry and Prince Sam followed closely behind the both of you, the King in front.

Everyone parted as you all made your way through the crowd of Nobles. You learned that the man’s name was Sir Alfred, and his title was the reason he was to be executed in such a manner. It also contributed to the fact that his beheading was occurring in such a prestigious place. Many famous executions took place in the same location, you had heard of many of the people who had lost their heads in the same position.

At the front of the room there was a high block on top of a sort of wooden stage, an executioner standing off to the side with an axe in his right hand. You couldn’t fathom the idea of having to do what he was only minutes away from doing himself.

Tom looked like he wished to say something, but in the end stayed completely silent. You were all completely sectioned away from everyone else, standing to witness the man about to die for his crimes.

In he walked a moment later, he wore a baggy black tunic and a cross around his neck. His head was down, eyes on the floor. When he came through the archway and into the large room, you couldn’t help but feel a lurch in your stomach. He denied the man who asked if he wished to say anything before he placed his head at the high block.

You felt your hands begin to clam up, wringing them against your dress. The man stood in prayer for a moment, a single tear falling from his eye. He mouthed a few words and took his place, bringing to cross to his chapped lips, and placing a single kiss upon it.

“Help me, God.”

His words were enough to make you sick, watching as he bent forward on his knees. His head sat firmly on the block, the man holding the axe waiting patiently. Someone said something in the distance, but your ears were pounding.

The moment the blade raised, you fought the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. It came down in a thud, a loud noise coming from the mouth of the man. A splatter of blood came soon after, his head was still intact. The blade raised again, and it struck once more. This continued another time, until at last, Alfred’s limp body had fallen.

You tasted acid, biting your tongue as you pushed through the cluster of people and looked for any exit. There was a single stone passage leading to a bit of land outside, you had no clue how you had gotten there. In a fleeting moment, you felt yourself hunch over and begin to empty the contents of your stomach onto the ground.

You felt a pair of hands grasp at the bit of hair falling into your face as you heaved, holding your chest firmly. You willed yourself to stop, but bent once more. Your throat burned, tears prickling the backs of your eyes.

“Are you—”

“No, no—I am absolutely not alright,” you just barely got out. “I’ll be in the carriage.”

You spent both of the following days in your quarters, claiming ill to all of those who asked. Dinner had been brought to you each night, and every other meal left for you as well. You couldn’t decipher whether you were doing it out of spite, or pure hatred for the establishment you were marrying into in less than three weeks.

A small portion of it may have also been out of fear, the thought of even being out and about sent a shockwave up your spine. Every time someone rapped on your chamber door, you couldn’t help but flinch.

On the morning of the second day you’d isolated yourself, the Queen sent word that the ball she’d arranged was still to be attended. You couldn’t help but groan at the man she’d sent to deliver the message. You had absolutely no desire to make an appearance at a dance, especially after the past few days.

It was only hours later when Anne pushed through the double doors to your room, sending all of the other servants away in a simple hand motion. You furrowed your brows at her, holding onto the bedpost, corset left loose and undone. She looked as if she had seen a ghost, clutching the underside of her dress.

“Your grace,” she curtsied quickly.

“Anne, is everything alright?”

There was a pause, she brought a small brown bag out from under the cloth of her brown dress. She undid the clasp gently and pulled out a dagger, extending her hand to give it to you. With it came a sheath and what looked like two leather bound straps.

“I have reason to believe someone is dangerous, ma’am. I—well, I wanted to be sure you would be able to defend yourself, should something present itself tonight,” she said shakily.

“Oh, Anne. Where did you get this?” You asked, placing a hand on the blade.

“A stable boy offered it to me at a fair price, I just wanted to be sure you’d have some sort of defense. If you don’t want it—”

“No, no! I’m terribly grateful, I just haven’t a clue how to properly handle something like this.”

There had been very little swordplay taught when you were being instructed to be the ruler of a country, and even less as you grew into a young Princess. You handled horseback riding, language study, arithmetic, and learning the duties of a sovereign.

Anne took a few moments to show you how to hold the knife, and then flipped up your undergarments to have access to your thigh. She strapped the leather bindings to it gently, the sheath sticking to you as she slid in the dagger. You felt nervous, knowing you were armed underneath all of the layers. Yet, something about it made you feel safer.

A while later, she brought all of the servants back in and they began to dress you. By the time you had finished, you stared into the full length mirror at the entirety of the velvety looking gown. It was a deep red color, with a dipping neckline that left your shoulders and collarbones exposed underneath the candlelight.

You opted for a more bold choice in tiara, ditching your family heirloom and going for a fringed tiara that dated farther back than you could guess within the British royal family. It was littered in diamonds and went well with the dress, watching as the material swished at your feet.

“I must say, this is one of my favorite dresses you’ve worn so far,” one of the lady servants murmured.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Thomas of Wales,” announced a man, almost out of nowhere.

You watched as the doors opened, the guard member stiff and standing tall. Tom rolled his eyes, wishing his entrance had not just been broadcasted so generously. Though, he was far too used to it by now to say a thing. It really had been quite unnecessary, but it was clear that the young man was quite new.

“Princess,” he greeted.

You turned, meeting his eyes and watching as he swallowed hard, eyes dipping to the curve of your bosom, and curl of your gloved hands. He was dressed in his usual formal ball attire, blinking a few times and noticing the way you moved to sit.

A diamond necklace laid untouched, sitting prettily on your vanity. He sent a nod to each of the women crowding you, watching as they fled the room. You peered over your shoulder, almost immediately seeing him lift up the heavily studded jewel. It was cold against your bare skin, but his hands were warm as he fiddled with the clasp at the back of your neck.

You gazed into the mirror, watching his determined eyes work their way around your shoulders and spine. Just as you felt the necklace sit comfortably, his fingers lingered for a moment, the brush of a knuckle against the divot of the arch of your neck.

“There,” he said. “Now—we should probably be going.”

His words came out breathlessly, turning around quickly and looking away. You couldn’t help but let out the wisp of a breath yourself, feeling the heat flush to your face. The trace of his touch remained on your skin, the thud of your heart quickening as soon as you took his arm.

The short walk to the ballroom was mostly silent, only breaking when you would make a mindless comment, making him reply with a crude remark. You felt a pull in your gut, like you wanted to despise him more than anything. Most of the time you were together, that was all it was, disdain. Though, in passing moments, you couldn’t help letting your guard down.

These thoughts rapidly halted when you both entered the large familiar room. You both made your rounds, greeting the guests and embracing family, his family. Soon after, you watched Tom step to the side and reach for a bottle of what you could only guess was brandy.

“A dance?”

This was a phrase you heard dozens of times throughout the night, men after men swinging and swishing you around the floor. Some of which left you drowning in your own boredom, others capable of making you smile and laugh. There was no sign of Nikolai, this was odd to you.

Tom sat at the edge of the room, elbows sat on his knees while he drank himself to death. His cheeks were flushed a deep red, curls falling into his eyes. The most peculiar thing was the way he watched you, the way he would be able to speak and converse, yet still make sure to flicker his gaze back to you.

The dagger at your thigh made you feel a bit less helpless, like you had a bit of leverage. Though, the night quickly faded and everything was turning out to be incredibly mundane. Nothing was seemingly out of the ordinary, and when you took your out, a feeling of relief washed over you.

Your soft steps sounded as you made your way back to your chambers. It was easy for you to find the right moment to claim you were tired, and needed to retire to your bed for the night. Tom had left you for the entirety of the night, keeping to himself for the most part.

You grasped the brass handle, pulling it open to reveal a room full of servants meant to help you undress. You bid them all a goodnight and promised you could do it on your own, wishing to be alone. When the last of them departed, you lifted the tiara from your hair, unclasping the necklace and placing both of the priceless items on the wood of the table.

You heard the rattle of the door a second later, asking who was there. No response. You felt your pulse quicken, lifting up the skirts of your dress and pulling at the handle of the knife. You took a few paces backwards, jumping when you realized it was only Tom. His back faced you as he closed the door quietly, throwing his hands up when he turned to see you, dagger in hand.

“Y/N—put down the knife,” he said cautiously.

You hadn’t a clue why you were still holding it in a position like you planned to stab someone. The adrenaline, perhaps. Tom approached you slowly, making your head swim with thoughts. Some part of you was wondering why you hadn’t dropped your hand, and the other was telling you to stay just as you were. He was just as bad as any other man you’d encountered, wasn’t he?

“Give me the knife,” he held a hand out. “Just let me see it.”

“You’re drunk,” you muttered, smelling the alcohol on him.

“You truly do know how to sober a man up, though, don’t you?” He laughed.

There was something mocking about his words, like he knew you wouldn’t do anything. This set something off inside of you, that feeling in your chest only grew when you took the opportunity to step forward and act as if you were going to pass the dagger off to him. When he extended his palm, you pulled his wrist forward and did your best to slam his back against the nearest wall. Your right hand, firmly grasping the hilt of the blade, rapidly meeting his neck. You pressed it into his exposed skin, watching his pupils dilate.

“Feeling sober?” You asked, masking any bit of anxiety.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

You felt the beat of his heart through his shirt, pressing deeper. This earned a shocked wince, making you take in a deep breath yourself. His expression was surprisingly calm compared to your own, making it even more difficult to grasp when he flipped the both of you very out of the blue. His significantly larger hand had flawlessly brought the dagger from your white knuckled fingers, and into his own.

You felt the cold blade against your hot skin, his breath fanning over the sensitive spot below your ear. Your chest constricted, never having been this close to him before. You could smell the mix of brandy and whisky on him, wondering if he could sense how fast your heart was beating.

“Quick. Just not quick enough,” he teased lowly.

Something about this position made you almost melt, just now noticing how dry your mouth had become. Tom’s head turned to look into your eyes, making you practically jump. There was something so intimate in the way he was looking at you, something so personal.

“God, you truly have no clue about the things you do to me,” his drunken words seemed to spill out.

“Don’t I?” You asked, feeling his free fingers slide against the skin of your jaw. “You despise me, hate me even.”

“I wish I hated you.”

These were the last words spoken between the two of you before the space between both of you was filled. Firm, but warm lips were being pressed onto your own. With hardly a second to react, you felt your hand slide up the fabric of his clothed shoulder and to the nape of his neck. Your fingers threaded themselves into his hair, tugging harshly as he kissed you harder.

You arched your back against the hard surface you were pressed at, listening to the clatter of the knife against the floor in the night. His now freed hand found your neck, gently curling around it and squeezing. The euphoric feeling sent a wave of pleasure down your back, a single whimper passing between your conjoined lips.

“Tell me you hate me,” he whispered to you, breaking away for only a moment.

“I hate you,” you kissed him. “I hate you,” you kissed him again. “God, I hate you right now.”

One of his hands remained around your neck, the other sliding down to your waist and flipping you around. His nimble fingers played with the buttons at the back of your dress, pressing sloppy kissed against your neck and throat. Once the dress fell to your ankles, he pulled several layers over your head. Before you could even get to unlacing the corset, his heavily ringed hands twisted into it, ripping it straight down the back.

You were left in almost nothing, a thin article of clothing covering you. His hand brought itself to your breast, kneading at the almost completely exposed skin. You let out a repressed moan as he cupped the swelling of your chest.

“Is this okay?” He asked between wet kisses, trailing generously down your collarbone.

“Yes,” you hardly got out.

He nodded against you, lips brushing the skin above the neck of your underdress. It slid down, exposing the tops of your breasts. His head dipped, tongue trailing behind, leaving goosebumps along your feverish chest. He bit gently, leaving you to pant as you felt his hand slide up your calf and onto your thigh, he undid the holster, listening to it fall to the floor.

Before you could even truly think, you were being placed on top of one of the wooden surfaces of your bedroom. Tom was on his knees, pulling your ankle to him lips and pressing a kiss to the skin. This continued up to your knee, nearing closer and closer to your aching core. His touch was like fire, spreading through your whole body.

Movement outside of your chambers made you stiffen, Tom sat up immediately. The sound repeated itself and you were both scrambling to get away from each other. Your discarded clothes littered the floor, corset ripped down the middle. Tom was clearly disheveled, but mostly dressed. You began to realize the extent of what you both had done.

You grabbed at a few of the pieces of fabric, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. You both stared at each other for a moment, and without a word, Tom slipped out the door and into the night.

taglist- @justapurrcat @witchyartemis @clara-licht @dummiesshort @username2002 @imaginationisgrowth @nova-sup3r @jeyramarie @the-avengers-assembling @veryholland @sleepybesson @stylessugarhigh @minejungwoo @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @sinisterspidey @iamsherloki-wholocked @kassey @golden-hoax @starilicious @thegreat-annamaria @gerim-1995 @wroetospidey @pignolithecookie @crazylokonugget @outshineallthestars @tomhollandsslilslut @millennial-teenybopper @thc-chalamet @mroy-l0l @ameliathackray @crispyfansofchaos @dangerouslovefanfic @quacksonholland @bluecrusadearcade @440mxs-wife @peterporkpie @johnismyreason @sadxaries @hollandstanevans @itsallyscorner @stargazerholland @miraclesoflove @determined-overthinker @peterbubblebuttparker @thexplosivegirl @in-some-fandoms

#tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #Tom #holland #a royal convenience #prince!tom #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagines #elle’s fics

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hauntedelation · 3 years

Text

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!𝐒𝐚𝐦 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭: 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 — Your first encounter and time alone with Samuel Wilson proves to show you the kind of life you are in for.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — Black Female Reader x Sam Wilson, Black Female Reader x Tony Stark (Platonic)

𝐀/𝐍 — I was in a bit of a mood this morning 😅 love the idea of Sam Wilson in nice suits with money and power to buy the world. Sorry for any typos!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 1.4k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — smut (18+ only), finger sucking, fingering, age difference (reader is in her early 20s, Sam is late 30s-early 40s), pet names, ring kink, use of the name sir

Here is a link back to my masterlist, please enjoy!

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Sam Wilson wears his suits, and he wears them well because he wants to remind people of who he is. He is a self-made man and one who doesn't play when it comes to his career. He breathes opulence but he shares that air, Wilson will never withhold what he has from those he loves.

Twenty-four-seven he was adorned head to toe in designer with cufflinks priced more than half of anyone's closet, fine fabrics and jackets from other parts of the world, loafers polished down so you can see your reflection on the surface.

Though that list is short and those residing on it aren't exactly known, it was for good reason.

Samuel Thomas Wilson

He lets you call him whatever you like, but he won't answer you if you call him Samuel. Even the first time you met the man at that expensive gala, his name paired with the likes of Stark and other wealth accompanying.

You don't remember what it was for, some sort of benefit but you were there as a guest. That night you never considered catching his eye from across the room. Certainly not in the dress you had for years or the heels you borrowed from a friend.

Behind a sharp glass of amber, Samuel murmured your name to himself. "That's a beautiful name, Angel." And you fought the urge to down the rest of your liquor because of his eyes, his voice, that pet name. Poor thing. You didn't know it yet but he decided then.

"Name's Sam, you can call me whatever you like."

You were to be his.

"Oh, Tony…" You didn't know what to say, your heart rate kicked up when you thought back to his presence in front of you. His rich scent, his smile, even the way his hands wrapped around your fingers when he greeted you.

Tony was the one that spilled it out for you, "Listen honey-bee—" He liked calling you that ever since you wore these earrings with little bumble-bees on them, never forgetting it.

"Wilson asked about you the other night, he's wondering if you're interested in chatting with him again."

Being alone with him? How would you do it? You weren't very used to this kind of attention. And Stark's brown eyes soaked your reaction all up. There was an unreadable pull to the corners of his lips. He could appear teasing or simply amused. You didn't know which.

You didn't know what he already knew.

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Samuel had you in one of his day rooms. There were plastic bags with logos printed on the surface of each, silk ribbons secured around the handles, and all littering the hardwood floor.

You were dizzy counting them, losing track of all the clothes, all the shoes, the jewelry. You'd think the man waved his hand at any item you showed interest in. Any time you stop and let your eyes wander.

You didn't have to say anything, either. You think about how he knew, how it didn't take you to spell it out for him. Samuel could just read it from your face.

He liked to watch you gawk at all of those presents, eating up the fascination in your eyes. And it didn't matter that he paid anything else off for you.

Any debt or bill due, you never saw the balance, all your fees at university seemingly erased. Samuel plucked every stress-inducing financial due from your fingers.

His arms encircled your body, pulling you close so your back was secured to his chest. And you felt yourself lose count of those bags on the floor when he brought his hand to the top of your thigh, positioning your legs to layer his.

The solid muscle that was Sam, you felt you would break in his arms if he wanted you to. If he wanted to keep you there he would, but he was slightly open, giving you an option.

You didn't make any move, didn't want to, especially when Wilson's lips found the space behind your ear. "You get everything you wanted, Sweetheart?"

He held you close and carried on with layering your skin in kisses, holding himself there just to push those shudders from your body. Your hands wrung together in your lap, and Sam drifted from the top of your thigh to hold onto them.

But he still laid a firm hand around you, over the fabric of your dress, and with his thumb brushing over your exposed skin. You gazed out the stretching glass window in front of you, watching the afternoon sunlight, the trees swaying in the breeze.

You couldn't quite find your voice then, so you nodded, tapping your fingers on his skin. He hummed real low in his chest and felt it transfer through your back. "'M'glad, I'll give you whatever you want, Angel. You just gotta tell me."

A flutter soars through your chest and you work to not let it overcome you. He chuckled against your neck, feeling the warmth of your body skyrocketing.

"You tell me anything and I'll take care of it for you, okay?"

His hand released yours and he laid his large palm over your thigh once more, inching so very close to the hem of your dress, teasing the space between your legs.

"Yes sir," You breathe out, watching your thighs part more for him. You don't know what had gotten into you then, it was as if they moved on their own accord.

The smell of him, he was all over you, on your skin, and in your hair. You knew he would be long after you part later that day, his essence clinging to your bones.

His rings brushed along your inner thigh, the chill of the metals pushing you back against him, back into his groin, and forcing a growl from his lungs.

"Lean onto me, Baby."

Samuel shifted a little so that your legs would hook around the outside of his, his hold on your centering between your legs. His biceps encircled your shoulders and you just feel your nails dig into the fabric of his pants.

You listen to him and soon enough his cheek is pressing over your temple, the neat facial hair dragging along your brow. Your lips part when you realize the weight settling in your stomach.

"Mm, just like that."

But you soon let go, not wanting to ruin the expensive material. Sam inhales slowly, murmuring that it's okay, "Don't worry about these pants, Angel, hold onto me if you need."

He was stiff and prodding your lower back, not looking to move away anytime soon. Your teeth chew the inside of your cheek when you think about it, the expanse of him, how heavy he seems.

"I can feel you through your panties. You're soaking aren’t you?"

You both watch his fingers dip down and rub, and rub, over the wet patch on the fabric of your underwear. He doesn't let up, and he makes sure to drift upward to apply pressure to your clit. Your hips chase after him, a whine is bitten down in that quiet room.

He pulls his fingers out of your panties, placing them on your lips and he says to you, "Get them wet, Baby." And you don't even register how quick you are to obey the man, accepting his thick fingers into your mouth and getting them dripping wet with your saliva.

Sam pushes forward and dips his fingers under your hem, under the waistband of your panties, and resumes that same touch. Rubbing and rubbing.

"That feel good? Hm?" He kisses your neck, that hurried pulse against his lips. His eyes watch yours slide shut, and your breaths pick up to an uneven measure.

Samuel grips your thigh and he takes his fingers away, grasping your cheeks and smearing your spit over your lips. "Good fucking girl," he grunts. And he says it one more time so that you can hear it.

"My darling girl."

His palm lays flat on your stomach, and those fingers drop down to your pussy, spreading your lips open and stretching inside. He strokes your walls to the point that you leak, covering his skin and allowing him to move more.

Your head falls to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, hazed eyesight capturing the ornate ceiling with the sparkling chandelier. His eyes are half-lidded, and never leave where his fingers reside. Not his thumb massaging over your clit, not his rings sliding into your dripping pussy

"Just let me take care of you, Angel."

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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — @brandycranby @emyearns I really wasn’t sure who else would like to be tagged in this. Let me know if you are interested!

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#sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x black!reader #sam wilson x black reader #black reader #female reader #sam wilson smut #sam wilson x you #marvel smut #sam wilson imagine #anthony mackie characters #anthony mackie fanfic #Sugar Daddy!Sam Wilson concept

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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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lady-rose-moon · 2 years

Text

To escape || Thomas Sharpe x Reader ||

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

My Main Masterlist

Summary: after finding out the dark truth about Allerdale Hall, you confront Thomas. Through time, you plan to escape with your husband.

Warning: angst, Lucille, happy ending, fluff, (anything else? I don't think so)

Reading through the files that you had discovered, bile raised up your throat at the horror of what had occurred here at Allerdale Hall. The last file that you picked up was labelled 'Edith Cushing'. You took time to look through the file and saw that she was a beautiful blonde girl, a smile permanently etched onto her lips as she held Thomas's arm and laughed. A letter fell out of her file and you picked it up eagerly.

"If there is ever a next one, this message is a warning. You mustn't stay here! They are killing me with the poison in the tea! If I fail to survive, please run. Thomas may have fallen in love with me but Lucille will do anything to keep him to herself. Learn the truth, follow him when he leaves his bed. Do not trust the tea or the food."

Staring down at the note in horror, you immediately stood from the table and vacated the library in a hurry. As you ran up the creaking stairs, you heard Thomas's voice call your name out through the house and your heart froze. You had to get out!

Desperately, you ran into your bedroom and pulled out the suitcase that you had buried beneath the bed. You quickly piled everything into the suitcase as tears covered your vision and you released broken sobs as you thought back to when you had first met Thomas.

You were at one of the parties your father was throwing for your birthday. Dressed in the elegant gown that he demanded you wore, you stood with your back to the wall with a permanent frown on your face. Your father expected a marriage to be rid of you now that his youthful second wife had given him a son to carry on his business.

"Excuse me?" came a voice to your right and you turned, coming face to face with a handsome face that was smiling at you although the smile barely reached his eyes, "may I have this dance?"

You hesitated for a moment as the man offered you his hand but once you slipped your gloved hand into his and felt how soft his skin was beneath your glove, you gave him a gentle smile and allowed him to guide you onto the dance floor.

"I'm Thomas," the man introduced himself, his oceanic blue eyes sparkling as he gazed down at you, beginning the waltz and guiding you across the dance floor.

"You probably know who I am," you whispered softly, looking away from his stunning eyes and over to the scornful eyes of your father. The man nodded and promptly left the ballroom. Your marriage to this stranger was set.

Your marriage was quick after that and the dowry was paid to Thomas quickly. The move away from your family home in the warmer part of the Midlands of England was harsh, especially so when you entered Allerdale and felt the sheer cold of the building.

"Y/N?" Thomas's voice broke your memories and your head snapped up from packing everything to stare at him in horror, "what are you... don't leave!"

You scowled and picked up the object closest to you, a simple glass and you shattered it before thrusting the remnants in front of you in a way of protecting yourself, "don't come any closer!"

Thomas frowned and backed away a little, closing the bedroom door behind him as he eyed you. "What will you do?" he asked softly, his hands shaking with the nerves, "please don't leave, the snow is falling and it will be impossible to-"

"Anywhere is better than here!" you sneered, feeling like a cornered animal as Thomas stepped closer. The Baronet frowned as he gently took the glass from your hand and your tears fell quickly in terror, "please don't kill me."

Thomas's gaze softened as he stared at you, seeing the same terror on your face as it had on Edith's face as she was falling from the third floor to her death. "It's not me that wants you dead, darling," the Baronet whispered, feeling you tug away from him but he kept holding you firmly, "Y/N, please."

"I don't believe you!" you yelled, tears cascading down your face as you tried to tug yourself away from him, "what else do I not know, Thomas?!"

The Baronet faltered and looked over to the door, the sensation of being watched feeling like moths crawling under his skin and he pressed his lips to yours to keep you from rambling on. Once he pulled away, he stayed close to your lips in a way that resembled him still kissing you but he whispered to you, "we're both in danger with Lucille still here. She murdered Edith because I loved her... She'll kill you when she finds out I love you and then... I will be next."

You looked up into his eyes with disbelief before you saw the fear sparkling through his eyes and you sighed sadly, resting your head on his chest, "what do we do?"

The Baronet took a few seconds to think before whispering, "we wait it out."

"Thomas-" you tried to interrupt him but he shushed you.

"We must," he whispered desperately, "I shall brew your tea the proper way, without poison. We cannot leave yet, not until I get something sorted."

You searched his eyes for any sign of trickery but you knew deep down that the man was being honest and you frowned as you nodded, "we shall wait it out."

Thomas nodded and pressed another soft kiss to your lips as a 'thank you' and then he pulled away, making sure to stand in the way of the suitcase so Lucille couldn't see you were planning to leave. "I'll be sure to tell Lucille, my darling," Thomas spoke a little louder so that Lucille could hear, "the sickness should pass soon."

Thomas left your room and frowned at the sight of Lucille on her knees, staring at the keyhole. "It is rude to eavesdrop, Lucille," the Baronet whispered, helping his elder sister to her feet before beginning to walk off, "she knows nothing."

"The files were laid out, Thomas," his sister spat, hatred burning in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder at the door to your room, "she knows, she has to."

Thomas put on his best guilty face and he looked down at the floor, watching Lucille stop and gaze at him. "I got sentimental, Lucille," the Baronet smoothly lied, hearing Lucille tut affectionately, "I dug out the files to see the photo of our little boy."

Pain flashed over Lucille's face and she sighed, embracing her brother while whispering in his ear, "we shall have one again once your business is running."

~~~~~~~~~~

Two months passed like that. You were tense around Lucille but did your best to play it off as a sickness though you were beginning to feel under the weather lately. You didn't need much sickness to tell that you were pregnant with Thomas's heir and suddenly, life in Allerdale became all the more terrifying.

One night when Thomas came to do his cordial hour with you that he had promised to Lucille was just him going to bed with you to make you think that he did sleep beside you, you waited on the bed while he left the bathroom, his torso bare and the pants hugging his legs dropping low enough to show the beginning of the V-line.

"Is something the matter, my darling?" Thomas asked with an easy smile, facing you and gesturing with his hands that you were being watched by Lucille.

"Can you help me with the hot water? I need a bath and I still haven't gotten the hang of the taps," you smiled sheepishly before standing from the bed and walking to the doors, locking it before heading into the bathroom with Thomas.

The Baronet released a breath that he didn't know he was holding before he turned to you with a frown, "what is the matter, sweet darling?"

You bit your lip before you stared up at him and admired the blueness of his eyes before whispering, "I'm pregnant."

Thomas froze and the colour left his face as his eyes darted down to your stomach. Pure fear raced through his heart with your admission, how were you going to hide this from Lucille until he got the tickets he needed to get you out of here?!

"No," Thomas whispered, his brows pulling together as he gently held the sides of your stomach, "not now, this cannot be happening."

Your hands trembled as you rested them against his chest and whimpered, "it's happening. I'm sorry, Thomas, I didn't realise-"

"This isn't your fault," Thomas whispered firmly, his thumb tenderly caressing your stomach as love filled his eyes, "but I'm nowhere near getting us those tickets and this is going to be so difficult to hide from Lucille! She already suspects me of stopping the poison!"

"Then don't get the transportation right now!" you whisper-yelled, panic evident on your face, "we can go visit my father and my little brother, tell Lucille that I missed home and then grab a ticket while we stay there! Please, Thomas, if she finds out about this baby..."

"She won't," Thomas answered firmly, looking deep into your eyes as he made the promise, "I will make sure that our baby lives, my love!"

You nodded fearfully and sighed as you rested your head on his shoulder, "I'm scared."

"I'm scared too," Thomas whispered as he pressed a firm kiss to your forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two nights later, you decided it was time to begin your plan. Sat at the dining table, Lucille served the food and you knew it wasn't poisoned because that would mean Lucille would need to poison them all.

"I was thinking of going to my father's house for a few days," you whispered as you dug into your food, hearing the clatter of Lucille's fork hitting the plate as she stared at you in disbelief, "Lucille? Is something the matter?"

The lady stared at you for a moment before looking at Thomas and straightening herself, "we are sorry to see you go," the woman whispered with her voice full of hate.

"Actually," you began nervously, looking at Lucille and seeing the rising anger in her eyes, "Thomas is coming with me. You see, my stepmother never got to meet my darling husband and that must be put right."

"But Thomas has a business to run," the lady protested, her eyes darting over to Thomas pleadingly, "he will have no time to go with you to the Midlands! So far away from home!"

Thomas cleared his throat and looked away from his meal to stare at his sister, "I am going with my wife, Lucille. It is frowned upon for a married woman to go somewhere without their husband."

"Thomas!" Lucille protested desperately, her hands quaking with her anger, "you mustn't! Your business! What about me?"

"Well, certainly you could survive a few days without us, Lucille?" you whispered unsurely before flinching back when she pointed her butter knife at you.

The Baronet moved closer to you and glared at his sister. "That's enough," he spoke with dominant finality, "I am going with my wife and that is final."

Lucille's chair scraped across the tile floor and she rose, promptly leaving the kitchen while seething. You bit your lip and looked over at Thomas nervously and your husband mirrored your terrified face. Lucille wasn't stupid, she knew Thomas was slipping into the abyss of love again. They had to leave before she could act.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The carriage arrived two hours later and while you were being helped with loading the luggage, Lucille pulled Thomas aside to speak with him.

"What are you doing?!" the woman snarled, her eyes searching Thomas's for any sign of his love for her. She found it, Thomas had perfected his act of the manipulated loving brother, the incestuous boy that sought out only his sister for his pleasure. Under the facade, he was desperate to get away and burn that mask of his.

"Her father doesn't know that she is coming," Thomas whispered, watching Lucille's eyes become curious at the revelation. "I crafted the note she received telling her that they wished to see her and she firmly stated that she wished to go. We have her money. She's not coming back."

Lucille eyed him for a moment before nodding and reaching up to press a kiss to his soft cheek. "I cannot wait for you to get home," she whispered, her hand trailing down his arm, "that way, we can bring our child into the world again."

Thomas nodded and hugged her before getting into the carriage beside you and allowing the driver to set off. He turned and waved to Lucille, to the manor, to Sir Thomas Sharpe Baronet of Allerdale Hall.

Once you were down the hill and out of sight of the horrible house, you sighed in relief and shuffled closer to Thomas, resting your head on his shoulder and smiling as his hand rested over your pregnant belly. "We are free," you whispered and smiled when Thomas released a relieved sigh and his lips pressed against your forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The carriage arrived at your father's manor and you stepped out, greeted by the warm arms of your stepmother who whispered to you, "oh thank God you're alright! Your husband sent a letter that explained your situation! Darling, are you alright?"

You nodded and held her arms gently before pulling away and sighing in relief. "Thank you for allowing us to stay," you mumbled, feeling Thomas's hand slide into your own, "with Carter, I thought you'd reject."

"Reject you?" your stepmother asked in shock, squeezing your hand gently as she frowned, "I would never! Your father might but you are my daughter, you are allowed to stay whenever you must. Now, are you going to introduce me to your husband?"

Your eyes widened in realisation and you turned to Thomas with a smile. "Evelyn, meet Thomas! Thomas, meet Evelyn, my stepmother!" you smiled, watching as Thomas took your stepmother's hand and kissed her knuckle.

"An honour to meet you, Mrs Y/L/N," Thomas greeted politely, smirking at the blush that spread across her features, "my many thanks for allowing us to stay."

The elder woman fanned herself and smiled before looping her arm through yours and guiding you into the manor, "I'm glad you married him! I get to see him every day for a while now!"

"Mother!" you admonished the woman with a grin, finally realising that your stepmother wasn't as bad as you had thought before. She was a sweet woman and so different to your stubborn and neglectful father.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Your stay at your father's manor lasted a lengthy month before Thomas was able to secure the tickets that would get you a cruise to Norway and the carriage to take you to the home he had bought for the both of you.

Standing in front of the liner, you stared at it hesitantly as your hand rested on your growing baby bump. "Now remember," your stepmother began, tearing you away from your thoughts, "send letters as much as you can and do make sure to visit, will you? I'm sure Carter would love to meet his nephew or niece when they are born."

You laughed and kissed her cheek. "I shall send letters, I swear," you grinned and looked up at Thomas, seeing him nodding in approval to the conversation your father held him in, "I shall also warn you that if Lucille comes knocking, call the police, she's dangerous."

"I will heed your warning, dear," your stepmother nodded and she squeezed your hand gently, "do not worry, your father is organising a new manor to be built in the Yorkshire Dales."

The blowing horn of the liner distracted you from the conversation and Thomas curtly ended his conversation with your father before he smiled at you and offered you his hand, walking onto the boat once you slipped your hand into his.

As the ship set sail away from the dock, you saw a flurry of red and your heart sank at the sight of Lucille running to the end of the dock. The liner was too far away for her to do anything but her desperate call of 'THOMAS! DON'T LEAVE ME' was clearly heard against the wind.

The Baronet stared at his sister until she was a mere red speck on the horizon and then he turned to you, cupping your cheek and pressing his lips firmly to yours with a soft sight. When he pulled away, you locked eyes and he whispered tenderly, "we're going home."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins @iamsherlocked1479 @kittiowolf210 @just-someone11

#sir thomas sharpe x reader #sir thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe x female reader #thomas sharpe x reader #tom hiddleston #thomas sharpe baronet #crimson peak thomas x reader #crimson peak 2015

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tomhiddlestonfanfic · 2 years

Text

Writings in Progress...

Stories I’m Working on...

What I Want for Christmas (5/?) Tom Hiddleston/Gender Neutral Reader

He Loves Me Not (20/??) Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character

A Step Too Far? (11/??) Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character

Post Apocalyptic Love (9/??) Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character

Making It Work (a sequel to It’s Complicated, a multi-chaptered story with Tom as the father of a three year old son. Will the reader and Tom find their way back to each other now that they’re taking care of their son together?)

Upcoming Projects

The Lunatics (a three or five part story, mental health fic) Tom Hiddleston/Reader - I haven’t started writing it yet.

More songfics!

Current Requests

- A fic with the prompt "you're the one who could ever hurt me, because you're the only one I ever loved."

- A Sir Thomas Sharpe x shy bookish plus size reader first time. Or Tom researching for Crimson Peak and falling for a shy bookish plus size reader who's into ghost stories etc.

- The reader had been sexually assaulted a year earlier and now it was time to do the sex scene with Tom Hiddleston for the Night Manager and right before the shooting starts she pulls him aside and says that she was nervous to be topless on camera but says that she trusts him and asks him to try to block as much as he can. And after the scene she idmediatly runs off set to her trailer and eventually he shows up and finds her dealing with flashbacks and he calms her down and finds out what happened

- The reader is a fan and wins an hour with Tom Hiddleston or something and he sees her self harm scars and maybe he gets her to talk about it or not but they just end up hugging for a while while he whispers things in her ear?

- it's just platonic cuddling with Tom Hiddleston and the reader? Like where reader is extremely touch starved or something and tom finds out and just all fluffy goodness?

- Tom Hiddleston x reader when she got sick, like covid

My Latest Updates

A request called I Don’t Want This Night to End

A songfic called Look at the Stars, Look How They Shine for You

A songfic called Love Me Like There’s No Tomorrow

A Songfic called If I Made You Like Me

A oneshot called Just Be Yourself

A NSFW 18+ ONLY Loki fic called Happy Valentine’s Day

A songfic called Our Song

A president Loki one shot called Surprise

The last chapter of I Can Ease Your Pain

Chapter one of Making It Work

A songfic and request called Listen to Your Heart

A request called Now or Never

Taglists

Please, let me know if you want to be on any taglists. I can make different taglists depending on what kind of content you prefer. For example a taglist for only one-shots, Loki content, mental health content, and so on... Just let me know what you like and I’ll make sure you don’t miss it! Love, F.

#wip #wips #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston/gender neutral reader #open for requests

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lulubelle814 · 10 days

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In Every Life - Part 1

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

It was late September of 1883 when they met. Some would call it kismet. Others destiny. The miserable ones would call it coincidence. He needed to go into London for a few weeks to work on some business prospects and handle some estate matters with his lawyer. Lucille stayed back as she did not care to leave home but was not happy to be without her brother for so long.

Josephine and her mother were on their way to the hospital when she had a sudden dizzy spell, causing her to fall to the street but found herself saved by a beautiful stranger, rescuing her from being hit by a carriage riding too close to the sidewalk.

"Are you alright?" her mother inquired.

"I'm alright mother, thanks to this kind gentleman." She was shy and blushing, unbelieving that she made a fool of herself in front of this handsome man.

Her mother looked at him, thanking him profusely. "You may have saved her life, mister…."

"Sharpe, Thomas Sharpe, baronet, madame."

"Thank you so very much, Lord Sharpe. I am Victoria Morrow, and this is my daughter, Josephine. How can I ever repay you?"

His words failed him as he locked eyes with Josephine. In that moment, he felt as if there was something linking his heart to hers. His heart, nay his soul, screamed to not let this beguiling creature to depart from him.

Unbeknownst to him, Josephine was similarly affected.

He responded to her mother without looking away from Josephine. "There is no need, madame. I am more than happy to assist." Josephine smiled at him causing his heart to skip with joy. "If it is not too forward, might you be available for dinner this evening Ms. Josephine?" He held his breath, praying she would accept his offer.

The way her name rolled off his tongue could soothe an angry lion, and she would do anything to hear him say it again. Looking at her mother for approval before answering, she said, "I would love that." They let him know where they were staying, advising he would pick her up at 7 pm.

***********************************************************************

That evening, he arrived promptly on time, having arranged a carriage to drive them to a nice restaurant he knew nearby. His breath escaped him as she descended the stairs, thinking her to be an angel descended from the heavens in a beautiful dark blue dress. “You look breathtaking.”

Josephine found her heart beating so loud thinking he must be able to hear it. Blushing, she reminded herself to breathe before taking his arm. “Thank you Lord Sharpe.”

“Thomas, please.” He wanted nothing more than to run away with her to some far off place or at least back to his home.

She nodded. “Thomas. You look very dapper yourself.”

She scolded herself. ‘Dapper? That’s the best you can come up with?’

“Shall we?” He held out his arm which she took. He aimed towards the door, and she followed him, a willing captive. When entering the carriage, it took all his strength to tell the driver to take them to the restaurant rather than what his head and heart were telling him.

At dinner, they exchanged stories. He told her the joke about why his estate is called Crimson Peak.

"That sounds extraordinary."

"It is fascinating but sometimes also a bit macabre when someone walks around and leaves what looks like bloody footprints."

"That must be a sight to behold. Oh how I wish I could see that." She froze. She had not meant to be so bold and admit that last part, but he simply smiled and said, "I would love for you to see it. You are most welcome to come observe the sight any time you wish."

She felt a bit relieved. They continued to talk and walked leisurely back to her hotel as they did not want the night to end.

"I would very much like to see you again tomorrow, if that is alright?" He didn't want to let her go, yearning to whisk her back to Allerdale as his.

"I would like that as well. My mother and I have an appointment, but we should be back by 1."

"1 o'clock it is. I look forward to it." He smiled, taking her hand in his and placed a kiss across her knuckles before departing.

Arriving at her room, she found her mother was pulling out the metallic syringe and an opaque bottle of liquid. "Did you have fun?"

She smiled and nodded. "He's wonderful and incredibly kind. He has asked to see me again tomorrow when we get back.”

"I see no problem with that at all, my dearest daughter, but it’s time for your medicine."

Josephine was not a fan of needles, but her mother insisted it would help with her deteriorating health.

***********************************************************************

When she awoke the next day, the front desk brought flowers that had been delivered early that morning.

My Dearest Josephine,

These flowers pale in comparison to your beauty. I very much look forward to seeing you again today.

Sir Thomas Sharpe

She placed them by her bedside, smiling like a loon. Her left hand began to shake and held it with her right to help control the tremors.

The visit at the hospital took longer than anticipated as they wanted to run a few tests to get a diagnosis as they felt they were close. By the time they arrived back at their hotel, it was half past 1.

Thomas waited patiently in the lobby. He had not been to the hospital much but knew appointments of any nature could run longer than expected. When she arrived flustered, he tried to give an air of calm and understanding.

"I'm so sorry."

"It's quite alright. No need to explain. If you need to take a moment to freshen up, I am happy to wait."

Josephine appreciated his offer and went up to her room to fix herself quickly and was back down ten minutes later. She was sure to wear a dress with a larger skirt to help hide the tremors in her legs that were becoming more frequent.

He took her to a shop that prepared a picnic basket for them which they took to a nearby park. He laid everything out on the blanket, and they spent the afternoon enjoying each other's company, talking about various things such as nature, science, hopes, dreams. Before they knew it, evening fell upon them, the picnic food gone hours before.

"Would you like me to escort you back to your hotel?"

She felt a pang of disappointment, not wanting to leave just yet. As if he could read her mind, "or, perhaps, we could get some dinner?"

Thomas wasn't ready to take her back but feared she might be tired of him. He hoped she might accept his second offer, his heart almost refusing to beat.

"Dinner sounds delightful."

Internally, he breathed a sigh of relief, his heart relieved. As she went to stand up, the tremors began again, causing her to lose her footing; however, Thomas caught her before she fell to the ground. She tried to brush it off. “I’m so sorry. My legs must have fallen asleep.” She smiled. “Not to worry. I’ll help you to the restaurant. It’s nearby.” She took his arm, using it to steady herself, trying her best to ignore the looming headache.

They continued to enjoy one another's company through dinner and dessert, not realizing the late hour while looking at the stars in the park until they arrived back at her hotel to her frantic mother who calmed the moment she saw her daughter was with Sir Thomas.

"Thank you so much for escorting my daughter. It appears she had a lovely time." This caused Josephine to blush profusely.

"My apologies for keeping her so late. I do so much enjoy spending time with her." He couldn't help but shyly smile as he spoke. “If your mother permits, I would love to see you again.”

“That would be lovely,” she said, trying to hide the pain from her headache that seemed to only be getting worse.

“Would tomorrow be too soon?” He was hopeful she’d agree. It was too soon, but if he could, he would see her every day; however, he did not want to scare her, unsure if she felt the same. Little did he know, she did. As much as she loved her mother, she wanted adventures with him. She’d run off with him at that very moment if she weren’t worried about leaving her mother alone. Maybe he’d allow her to come with them? Or would he disappear when learning of her declining health? ‘No, Josephine. You mustn’t let your heart get ahead of your mind. Perhaps he merely wants company while he is in town.’

Taking her hand, he turned it, kissing her palm and felt her hand shaking a bit but brushed it off, believing she was likely as nervous as he.

Arriving back to her room, her mother was ready to give the next dose of medicine. “Do we have to, mother? How many more of these treatments must I endure?”

Her mother approached with caution. “It is only for your benefit. Do you not wish to be well?”

She sighed in defeat. “Yes, mother. It’s just that the treatments have become more difficult to handle. I just want to be well and hope the doctors here can find a solution.”

“I am sure they will, but in the meantime, you need to continue this course of treatment. The doctors have not been opposed to it, and I feel it has slowed down at the least. I am truly sorry for how difficult this has been for you, but it’s not any easier watching you be forced to endure. You are a strong, capable woman. As your mother, I only want to see you succeed.”

Josephine relented and allowed her mother to administer the needle treatment.

“I must also say this. Sir Thomas seems like a capable young man, but I am not sure he is right for you. I fear he may take advantage of you due to your health. I do not believe I can abide his visits much longer. I want to see you happy, but I also want you to be safe.” She put the needle away with the future treatments, placing them in the drawer of her nightstand.

She rubbed her arm at the injection site, momentarily forgetting her headache. “I know, mother, but there is just something about him that I cannot explain. I feel connected to him on a spiritual level, and if he were to propose tomorrow, I would say yes, but….”

Sitting on her bed, her mother looked nervous. “But what, Josephine?”

“But I fear leaving you alone. Father passed so long ago, and I do not want you to feel as if I am attempting to abandon you, but I feel I must follow my heart. I am hoping, perhaps, that if he does propose, that you may come to live with us. I know. I’m getting ahead of myself. Just wishful thinking.”

Her mother moved over next to her, holding her from the side. “Darling daughter. I am in awe of your desire to see me happy, and I feel the same for you. I just………..want you to be safe. The thought of you running off with that man scares me. There is just something about his countenance I cannot trust. I mean, what do we really know about him?”

She knew her mother was right. She was always right, but something in the back of her mind said her mother was wrong about this.

***********************************************************************

As he walked back to his hotel, he could not stop thinking about the feel of her hand, the honeysuckle smell drifting off her hair. He knew what needed to be done. Once back in his room, he pulled out a pen and parchment.

My Dearest Sister,

Please forgive my neglect of you. I have been so thoroughly occupied of late, and have so very much to tell you. Foremost, that I send you my love and sincerest well wishes for you in my absence. All is well here, I have been meeting with Mr. Westridge regarding the estate. He has been kind enough to assist in clarifying the terms of the paperwork so we have nearly concluded our business; however, I must confess that, while I do miss you, I am not eager to return home just yet.

I have had the absolute pleasure of meeting a most outstanding lady. Her name is Josephine. She is here in town with her mother. With her mother’s permission, I escorted her to dinner. She is such a remarkable woman. She gazes fondly at the stars as if they were her dearest friends. I showed her the constellations of Perseus and Andromeda, telling her their tale. Dear sister, I would slay every beast in the world just to stand in her presence.

She adores reading the poets and makes spirited defenses and criticisms of every page she consumes. She listens tirelessly to my myriad mechanical ramblings and discusses my ideas with a curious and open mind. Never has a woman taken such an intellectual interest in my work. I must admit that while her face caught my attention, it was her mind that has kept my interest.

Oh, how I wish you were here to help guide me through this. The very sight of her makes my heart flutter. This strange feeling is beyond my comprehension, yet I do not wish for it to dissipate. What must I do, dear sister? Please, I beg for your guidance in this matter.

Your loving brother,

Thomas

Sealing the letter, he called upon the front desk to have the letter delivered to his sister, eager for a response as he was eager for his sister’s council. They ensured him that short of unexpected, disastrous weather, they would have the letter delivered post haste.

***********************************************************************

While a cold cloth to her forehead helped alleviate her headache, Josephine suffered another night of unrest. Rather than toss and turn, she quietly took out her diary to write, always addressing her entries to her father as it helped her feel close to him even though she never had the opportunity to meet him as he passed shortly after she was born.

Dear Father,

I must tell you of the noble gentleman who came to my rescue yesterday. His name is Sir Thomas Sharpe. I felt faint and began to stumble, but he saved me before I could be injured. Dearest father, he is an angel, both in action and countenance. When our eyes met, I knew in that instant he was my soulmate.

I know you never truly believed in soulmates and love at first sight, but I felt whole for the first time in my life. I thought for so long that the missing piece of my soul occurred when you passed. I realize now that the missing piece was him. The cracks running deep to my core now feel as if they are mending each time we meet.

Father, I know you would approve of him. We share similar interests. He loves to read, star gaze, dance, and invent. Yes! He’s an inventor! His mind creates these extraordinary ideas for machines. His latest idea is for one that would make the harvesting of clay easier and more efficient with less likelihood for injury to the workers. I find myself completely fascinated when he spoke of it

My first hesitation is mother. I do not wish for her to feel abandoned. She seemed amenable to come with me to Thomas’ estate, should he propose. I have only known him for two days, but I would marry him at this very moment should he ask. I do not care if he has money or not. If he does not have an estate then the ground where we lay would become our home and the stars our blanket.

My second hesitation is my health. I have not yet told him of my ailments and am afraid to do so. My fears tell me he will reject me, not wanting an ill spouse, but my soul tells me he will not care.

I know not else how to describe this feeling, but I cannot deny it. Mother reminds me that a lady does not openly express her feelings to a gentleman. I wish you could meet him, see him as I do, but I know you watch over me.

I also fear that I have created this imaginary scene in my mind, that my heart has overruled my mind to the point where I live in fantasy.

I beg of you for your help, courage, and wisdom to know what to do. I miss you so much.

Your loving daughter,

Josephine

Putting her journal away, she climbed back into bed. It was another hour before she was finally able to sleep.

***********************************************************************

The following morning, Thomas readied himself, going by the florist first. Looking for the perfect flowers, he looked for ones that might be worthy of her presence. Once he found them, he paid the proprietor and left swiftly to her hotel and waited for her patiently in the lobby.

Josephine was lost in a fitful slumber, but her mother was awake and ready, knowing Sir Thomas would be arriving shortly. Descending the stairs, she saw him holding the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen.

“Good morning Ms. Morrow! How are you this fine morning?” The joy in his face was evident to any who saw him.

“Good morning, Lord Sharpe! I am well, but I’m afraid Josephine is still resting. Her rest was very troubling last night, which is to be expected.”

“I am so sorry to hear that, but I do hope she is well. Do you know when she might awaken?” He was very eager to see her.

“I could not say, but I do not wish to disturb her as her health has been poor, especially as of late. I will ensure she receives these.”

When she put her hands forward, he hesitated. “I would be happy to wait until she is awake as I would live to give these to her myself. I must confess. I am eager to see her again.” He wanted to see her so much, even if for a moment.

“I cannot say when she may awaken and feel well enough for a visitor, but I assure you I will take these directly upstairs.” Reluctantly, he handed her the bouquet.

“I thank you for doing so. If there is anything I might do to aid in her recovery, please do let me know. I am very……..fond of her.” He could not help but blush.

“You are too kind, Lord Sharpe. We are fond of you as well.” He smiled at her response.

“Please do not hesitate to call upon me should there be anything I can do to assist in her recovery.”

He waited until Ms. Morrow disappeared up the stairs and out of view before taking his leave.

As her mother returned, she found her daughter to be awake and brushing her hair. Turning at the sound of the door, she saw the flowers her mother held. “Those are the loveliest flowers I have ever seen! Where did you find them?”

Her mother walked over to the vase in their room, discarding the old flowers and placing the new ones in there with some water. “A handsome gentleman gave them to me. They are pleasing, are they not?”

“They truly are, and you deserve them. You have been so kind and helpful with my health. It’s the least you deserve. I do hope he calls upon you again.” Josephine turned around and continued to brush her hair. She was feeling exceptionally unwell this morning but did not want to alarm her mother, keeping her thoughts to herself.

As her mother went to place the flowers in a vase with some water, she removed the ribbon from the stems, placing it aside as a keepsake. “I communicated your increasingly poor health to the hospital. They recommended bed rest and valerian tea until your next appointment in 3 days.”

Disappointed, she returned to her bed, already plotting her escape. She could not stand to be cooped up, preferring the fresh air and sunshine, or the stars at night. In the meantime, she placed her head on the pillow, knowing she could use some more rest.

***********************************************************************

That was two days ago. Thomas paced back and forth around his rooms wondering what to do, how he could capture even a glimpse of her. Perhaps he could return back to her hotel in the evening with more flowers? Or would more flowers be too much? Maybe a new pair of gloves?

Then it occurred to him. He knew exactly what she would like, departing for the desired object he had seen just the other day. When he exited his hotel, he looked around to realize it was later than he thought, not having realized he had been pacing around his room for hours.

Holding himself back from running, he reminded himself of social protocol, trying to keep an acceptable pace as there was no emergency. Upon arriving at his desired location, he spoke with the shopkeeper, describing the item he was looking for. The shopkeeper knew exactly what he was describing. “Would you like me to wrap it for you sir?”

Thomas smiled. “I would be most grateful. I am very grateful for your help.” Pausing for a moment, he had another idea. “Might you have a piece of parchment and ink I might use?”

The shopkeeper smiled and retrieved the requested items. “This must be for someone very special.” Thomas smiled back at him. “Yes, for someone very dear and precious.” It took him a few moments, but the words finally came to him.

My Dearest Josephine,

Words fail me to accurately portray the bewildering spell you have cast upon me with your beauty and intellect. I hope this may help convey what I am unable to express. For I am unable to retain a singular thought when simply near you. I yearn to see you. To simply breathe the same air as you is a privilege that not even God himself is worthy.

I pray you can accept this humble token from an unworthy man such as myself.

Yours Always,

Thomas

Gently folding the note, he placed it inside before the shopkeeper who then safely wrapped the item, securing it with twine. Holding it carefully, he departed.

As he neared her hotel, he noticed a woman become unsteady, falling to the ground and hurriedly made his way to assist her.

“Madam, are you alrigh………Josephine?” Her face was contorted in pain. “What is wrong? What can I do?” She could hear his voice off in the distance; however, she was more focused on her prevailing issue as her extremities continued to tremble. Lifting her bridal style, he started towards the hospital.

She turned to look at him. “Thomas?” She sounded weak. “Dear Josephine! Do not worry. I will get you to the hospital posthaste.”

She placed a hand on one of his lapels. “Please no, not the hospital.”

“But you are unwell. You must see a doctor! If nothing else, I should take you back to your hotel to rest. You cannot be out here in your state.”

“I beg you. Please do not take me back, at least not yet. Can we delay a little? Perhaps sit on a bench at the park? I yearn for fresh air and sunshine.”

He could not deny her request, heading for the park nearby as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Gently placing her on the bench, he sat next to her. She held onto his arm. To provide her better support, he wrapped an arm around her, finding her leaning into him. They stayed like that for sometime, receiving odd looks from passersby. Finally, Thomas broke their peaceful quiet.

“Darling Josephine. If I might implore, what is ailing you?”

This was it. She was about to be confronted with her fear of his rejection of her due to her health. “I’m afraid, Thomas.” she turned her face up to look at him.

“What are you afraid of, my dear?”

there was nothing she could do to hide or deny it any longer. “I have been unwell for sometime. Mother thought it best to come to London to see if the doctors might know what is affecting my health. No one has been able to uncover the cause. They’re only able to treat the symptoms.”

Thomas listened attentively as she looked away and continued.

“The doctors here have hope for a diagnosis and solution. In the meantime, mother has been administering medicine to help me, but I fear it might not be working well enough.”

“Why have you not told me of this before?” His worry increased, not wanting her to suffer.

“I’m afraid you might not want to see me anymore. No one wants to be saddled with an ill person.”

Placing his finger under her chin, he guided her face back towards his. “My dearest darling Josephine. Nothing could change how I feel about you.”

She blushed and attempted to bury her face in his chest, but he would not allow her to do so. “If God himself told me I had to choose between you and the heavens, I would dwell happy as a dead man in hellfire for having known you.”

She could not help a tear or two from falling. “Please, Thomas, do not take pity on me. I could not bear it.”

Using the back of his finger, he wiped them away. “Please do not cry. I am not worthy of your tears.”

He brushed some falling hair out of her face, and she leaned her face into his palm as he did so, yearning to stay close to him. A gust of cold wind fell upon them, and she began to shiver. Against society propriety, he removed his coat and placed it around her to help keep her warm. She confided in him her desire to be a dancer. “I’ve always wanted to dance, but my health never allowed it.”

“One day, you will dance. We will dance, even if I have to sweep you off your feet and hold you while I carry you around the dance floor. Come, love. We must get you back to your hotel for some rest.” She agreed but found she was still unable to walk. The tremors were affecting her more and more as time moved on. Seeing her distress, he picked her up bridal style once again and moved towards her hotel. As he carried her, she found herself warming between his coat and their close proximity, allowing his calming scent to envelop her.

They arrived at her hotel moments later, finding her mother running frantically down the stairs. “Where have you been? Are you alright?”

Josephine nodded, looking up at Thomas. “I needed some air and fell, but Thomas rescued me.”

“We need to get you back to bed.” Thomas began towards the stairs but was stopped by her mother. “It is not appropriate for you to be in her room. I can help her back to our rooms.”

He looked back at Josephine, not wanting to leave her in such a state, but Josephine knew once again that her mother was right. He placed her down gently, her mother moving to help support her.

“Thank you again for rescuing me, Thomas.” She gave him a weak smile, her energy still draining and began to remove and return his coat, but he stopped her.

“No, my dear Josephine. Please use it to keep yourself warm. I can come back and retrieve it tomorrow or the day after when you are feeling better.”

He leaned forward to wrap his coat back around her, using the moment to whisper so that only she could hear. “There is something in the pocket for you.”

She looked at him and smiled once more. “Thank you again, Sir Thomas. You have been most kind.”

He stayed and observed to help ensure her and her mother had no problems ascending the stairs, not leaving until well after they were out of sight.

Arriving back at his hotel, he found there was a letter and small package awaiting him. Seeing his sister’s hand writing, he swiftly took the items to his room, eager to read her response.

Darling Brother,

I am beyond delighted to receive your letter. What you describe in your letter is nothing short of love. I have been worried for so long to find someone worthy of your time and attention, to be a partner, a friend, and a confidante.

She sounds to be the most exquisite creature. It warms my heart with how you talk of her. I have never heard you speak of anyone in such a manner, not even your childhood love, Angelica.

From what you’ve told me of her, it appears she feels the same as you. The only guidance I can give you is this. Your heart already knows what to do and will not lead you astray. All you need now is to listen to it.

I have enclosed mother’s ring. While it is ghastly, use it to purchase a ring for my future sister. Go, dear brother, and ask her to be your Andromeda.

Your loving sister,

Lucille

He knew she was right, always providing the truest insight and finest guidance. In all the times he thought he was falling in love, none compared to his affection for Josephine.

Opening the small package, he found their mother’s ring encased in an intricately carved jewelry box. While the box was beautiful, he agreed with his sister that the ring was frightful. Gazing at the ring, he pondered where to go. Placing the ring on the desk, he decided to begin his search for the perfect ring the next day. All night, his mind stirred with ideas of how to ask his dear Josephine to be his Andromeda once a worthy ring was found..

***********************************************************************

Back at her hotel, Josephine placed Thomas’ coat over the back of her chair and bided her time to check the inner pocket until her mother had fallen asleep. As she climbed into bed, her mother brought her nightly remedy. Not wanting to anger her mother, she gripped the bedsheet tightly as the needle was administered in her other arm.

As the needle and bottle were put away, Josephine noticed the flowers again by her mother’s bedside. Whomever sent those must truly be enamored, and it delighted her heart, giving her hope that her mother would finally find someone.

She gently turned over to see her mother gazing at the flowers once more. “Mother? I am so sorry to have worried you like that. It was not my intention to cause any harm.”

Looking back to her daughter, the smile on her face dropped as she prepared the valerian tea. “You know, daughter. I only wish the best for you. The instructions from the doctors are only for your betterment.”

Although crestfallen, she knew her mother was right, as always. “I’m just so tired of doctors and hospitals.”

“I know you are, my daughter. I wish I could make it all go away, but they are necessary. The physicians here seem to have better ideas on how to help you, and we must let them do it.”

She knew there was nothing else to say. Taking the tea from her mother, she drank it without complaint, falling asleep soon after.

***********************************************************************

Waking up to the sound of song birds, Thomas yearned to see his beloved. Taking the time to bathe and dress, he decided to surprise her at her hotel and take her to breakfast. Taking the ring, he placed it in his breast pocket.

Swiftly arriving at her hotel, he inquired with the desk clerk if she was awake. Having one of the staff check, it was only moments before Ms. Morrow arrived downstairs.

“Sir Thomas! How delightful to see you this morning.”

“Ms. Morrow, it is a pleasure to see you. I was hoping to take your daughter to breakfast? If it’s already with you, that is.”

“I’m so sorry, Sir Thomas. She is still slumbering and will not be awake for a while, but I would be delighted to join you. This would be an opportune time to get to know one another. I feel that we may be spending more time together in the near future.”

He smiled, trying to hide his disappointment in not seeing his darling. “That would be most wonderful, Ms. Morrow, and a most excellent idea.”

Taking his arm, she led him out of the hotel. “Please, call me Victoria. I insist.” They arrived at a restaurant just minutes later, being seated without hesitation. They discussed hobbies and interests. He asked questions about Josephine’s upbringing, wanting to know her better.

“To be honest, she was never a well child. Her father passed when she was an infant, and I took the burden of being mother, father, and nursemaid.” She proceeded to tell him how her daughter’s health has been poor since she was little and has steadily declined over the years. “I’ve had to play nursemaid by myself.”

They chatted away a while longer before Thomas escorted her back to her hotel, taking his leave in search of a prize.

Going from store to store, he felt more and more despondent. The staff at each store tried to be helpful, but nothing was good enough for his dear Josephine. Before returning to his rooms for the evening, he tried one last store: Hatton Garden. The gentleman behind the counter introduced himself as Harold. Harold was not much to look at, a short balding man in his fifties, but he had an immense talent for helping people find the perfect piece. He showed him his mother’s ring, hoping he could sell it to purchase a ring fit for a goddess.

“Tell me about your fair lady.” This was his trick, to use how the person felt about their beloved and match it to a ring.

“She is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld. Her eyes are blue like the ocean and sparkle like the finest stars in the sky. She loves poetry and astronomy. She is like no other I have ever met before. I want to find something unique and individual that will compliment her beauty and show that she is nothing short of a queen among peasants.”

Harold smiled. Never before had he heard such an elegant description of a fine young lady, and he knew exactly the ring for her. Retrieving it, he placed it delicately on the counter.

This was the ring. THE ring he had been searching for. The smile on his face told Harold he had chosen wisely.

“May I see the one you brought in?” Thomas placed his mother’s old ring on the counter. “Unfortunately this is all I have, but I cannot give her a ring that does not befit her beauty.” Harold picked it up to inspect it. Taking out his jeweler eyepiece, he looked closely at the stone and inspected the silver holding the gem.

“I hope you do not find me impertinent, but this setting does not do justice for such a fine ruby stone.” He looked at it further before placing it back on the counter.

“Not at all. To be honest, I find the ring itself ghastly, but I know it must be worth something.”

While the setting itself was considered junk these days (it was made mostly of cheap aluminum), the stone was worth something; however, the value fell short on the cost of Thomas’ chosen ring. There was something about him he only rarely saw in others who came to him for help and came to a decision. This young lady described sounded not only enchanting but also one of the only women worthy of a ring like this. While the gentleman in front of him would not be able to pay the actual cost of the ring, he wanted to help him.

“I do believe we can come to an agreeable arrangement.” Harold described the value of the stone in the ring brought to him. While he could not use the current setting, he could have a new setting created that would be more appealing and appropriate for the stone. “You came on a most auspicious day, my boy. For today is the only day this particular ring is on a special sale.” He told Thomas that with the sale price of the ring, it would match the amount he would pay for the ring Thomas brought in. “In fact, I would be most glad to exchange the ring you brought to me for this one. It is most fortunate you arrived this evening.”

Thomas was elated, finally having found the perfect ring for his (hopefully) future wife. Harold included a ring box befitting such a ring. To avoid theft, he placed the ring box in his breast pocket where the previous one resided.

“I cannot thank you enough, sir. You have been a tremendous help!” Harold gave him well wishes as he departed.

It was late in the day, perhaps too late to call upon his dear Josephine. Regardless, he walked to her hotel, stopping in front and peering up to what he believed to be her window. He had to stop himself from running inside, up the stairs, and to her room. He didn’t care that her health was poor and would take any time God would grant him, be it years, months, days, or even minutes and would love and take care of her.

Before the constable could be called, Thomas went back to his own hotel and spent hours working on his proposal.

***********************************************************************

The following morning, he was ready. Placing the ring box in his jacket pocket, Tom went to the florist first. He wanted to have the perfect flowers to give her as he proposed. The florist was kind and helped pick the right flowers that would show love and affection and created a one of a kind bouquet of peonies and roses.

“Any girl who would turn you down after giving these flowers is not a girl worth having,” the florist told him.

“She’s worth much, much more than these, but I think she’ll find them adequate.” His smile was big and bright, lighting up the shop. It wasn’t hard to see how hard he had fallen for Josephine. Anyone who looked at him knew he was a man in love.

Now armed with the beautiful bouquet, he made his way to her hotel.

Once arrived, he asked for her at the front desk. “Might Miss Josephine Morrow be available? I do not wish to disturb…….”

He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the grim look on the concierge’s face. “Normally, I would not share such private information, but I have seen you and her together. She’d want you to know.”

The smile on his face dropped, his heart racing with fear, the flowers dropping to the floor. “Know what?”

The concierge took a moment to compose himself. “It was very late last night, her mother came running, asking for help to get her daughter to the hospital. I was able to find someone to take her to hospital, but when I saw her? To say she looked poorly would not do it justice.”

Before the gentleman could finish, Thomas was out the door and running to the hospital. He had to see her for himself. If she was that ill, he wanted nothing more than to be by her side. He’d never run so fast before, but it also seemed to take forever to get there. The nurse at the desk confirmed she was there and took him to her room. When he entered, she looked deathly pale. Tremors were happening at random intervals, and it was obvious she was having breathing issues.

“Her mother stepped out a few minutes ago. We urged her to get some rest. You must have just missed her.”

“What is wrong with her? Will she be alright?” She had to be alright. He refused any other outcome.

“Honestly, we don’t know. We cannot figure out the source of her ailment. If we had some idea, we might be able to do something, but I fear it may be too late.”

He was now sitting at her bedside, holding her hand. “She told me her mother had been administering medicine. Has that not helped?”

The nurse looked puzzled. “What medicine? The doctor has been very hesitant to prescribe her anything except to help her rest. If we knew what she was being given…..”

He was out the door before she could finish, knowing he needed to find the medicine her mother was administering. Why had her mother not told them? Would it not benefit to give the doctors all of the information in order to help her daughter?

Arriving back at the hotel, he told the concierge to call the police as he ran up the stairs to her rooms. Rather than knocking, he barged right in. The room was unoccupied. There were no thoughts as to where her mother might be, but he began searching every bag he could find. As he neared the desk Josephine regularly used, her mother entered the room. “I beg your pardon. What do you think you’re doing here? Why are you going through our personal things?”

“Where is it?” he demanded.

“Where is what?” She retorted.

“The medicine you’ve been administering to her? ” He continued to shuffle through papers.

“I have no idea what you are referring to, sir. I demand you leave at once!”

He turned to look at her, fury evident in his eyes. “Your daughter told me you’d been administering medication. The hospital has no record of it. Where is it? What have you been giving her?”

Ms. Morrow was frozen in place, speechless. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the flowers he’d given Ms. Morrow to give her daughter on his behalf. They were not on Josephine’s bedside table. Rather, they were by Ms. Morrow’s. Why were they there?

He moved swiftly to the flowers. “Why are these here? They were for Josephine!” He started searching through the drawer of the nightstand, finding the items he was looking for. He pulled out the needle and a bottle of silver liquid. “What is this? What in heaven’s name have you been giving her?”

“I’m her mother! I take care of her. You have no right to question me. I demand you leave at once!” They were both flustered. Thomas examined the bottle of silver liquid, looking for any sign of a label. It wasn’t until he turned it upside down that he found a partial label that said “....cury”.

“You’ve been injecting her with mercury? Why would you do such a thing?” Ms. Morrow launched herself at him, trying to get the bottle back. He held it above her head to which she responded by slapping him several times. Before she could get in the next blow, police blew in through the door.

He directed the police to arrest her. “She’s been poisoning her daughter. I must get this vial and the needles to the hospital before it’s too late.” While two officers arrested Ms. Morrow, another officer gave him a ride to the hospital. Thomas hoped it wasn’t too late. He couldn’t bear to live without her.

Rushing to her room, he found the doctor there examining his Josephine. “This is what her mother has been administering.” He handed the bottle over to the doctor who examined it, and then sat by Josephine, holding her hand and kissed the back of it.

The doctor turned to his patient. “Is this true, Ms. Josephine?” She let out a breathy ‘yes’, unable to speak much more than that. Even in the short time he’d been at her hotel, she continued to deteriorate.

It didn’t take the doctor more than a moment to recognize the contents: mercury. Now having the missing piece of the puzzle, the doctor turned them. “This explains your symptoms, but I’m afraid they’ve progressed too far.”

“What do you mean, too far?” Thomas was angry.

“If we had known much sooner, the effects could be reversed, but at this point, there’s nothing we can do. She’s not much longer for this world, I’m afraid.”

The tears poured out of him. He gazed into his darling’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, my love. I’m so, so sorry.”

She gathered what strength she had left, placing her palm on his face. “It is alright, darling.”

“How is it alright?”

“You’ve given me the greatest gift I’ve ever wanted. You showed me what it is to love and be loved.”

He held her other hand with both of his, tears continuing to fall. “We haven’t had enough time. We need more time!”

“Do not worry, darling. I will always be with you.”

At that moment, he remembered his original intention that morning, and pulled a small box out of his jacket pocket. She may not be long for this world, but he wanted every moment he could get.

“Dearest Josephine, I love you more than life itself. I do not care if it is only for a few minutes or a few days. Would you please do me the honor of being my wife?” He opened the box to show her the ring.

She smiled and nodded. “Yes,” she said with as much enthusiasm as she could gather. He removed the ring from the box and placed it on her finger. What he had not noticed when he purchased the ring was that the jeweler had placed a matching silver ring under the cushion, a ring for him; however, it fell out of the box, creating a clunking sound as it hit the floor. He picked it up before turning to the doctor. “Is there a parson here? I wish to marry my fiance as swiftly as possible.”

The doctor sent the nurse to find the vicar who had been visiting other patients and brought him to Josephine’s bedside. Thomas expressed his wishes, and Josephine confirmed. Both her engagement ring and the groom’s ring were placed on the open bible held by the vicar.

While they did not have a license, the vicar did not care. He quickly understood the situation and gave them a brief ceremony, marrying them in the eyes of God. At this point, no one in the room cared about the legalities. Within moments, they were married, the rings placed on their respective fingers.

From that moment on, they were not parted. He refused to leave her side for anything, standing vigil day and night, wanting to spend every possible moment with her that she had left. The only thing she asked of him was to hold her. He and the nurse moved her carefully so that he could join her in bed. Giving her a sweet kiss, he held her for the next few hours as she continued to deteriorate.

The doctor came to check on her that night. When he came back the next morning, he let Thomas know that she did not have much longer. He continued to hold her, forgetting all else. In her last moments, she looked at him. “Thomas….”

“Yes, my love?”

“I…..” She had to regain her breath for a moment. He waited patiently for her to continue. “I will always love you.”

He dared to hold her closer. “And I will always love you, in this life and the next.”

“And the next,” she repeated. “I love you.” And with those three words, she took her last breath.

The funeral was small but nice. His sister did not have enough time to be there for her brother at the funeral, but she arrived that night in order to help him pack. At his request, the concierge and staff helped to pack up her belongings so that Thomas may bring them back to Allerdale Hall. While he could no longer bring his wife, he could have some part of her there with him.

As it got deep into winter, Lucille found him up in his attic more and more to the point where he refused to leave. He had his favorite gown of Josephine’s on a mannequin in his workshop so she could watch him work. He’d explain to the mannequin what he was doing and how he was doing it, as if she were truly there with him. The most he would allow from Lucille was a blanket for warmth and the occasional tea.

He’d not been home for a month when he caught a cold. Lucille tried to urge him to take the medicinal tea and treatments to help him recover, but he had lost his will to do anything. Melancholia and grief had such a tight hold on him that he could think of nothing else but his wife and his desire to be with her again.

Lucille returned about 20 minutes later with the medicinal tea and the determination to force her brother to take it and get better. Arriving in the attic, she found he had passed, holding on to Josephine’s dress.

Knowing what he would want, she had his body brought to London and had him buried next to his wife. As there was no proper headstone for Josephine, Lucille had a double headstone fashioned for her brother and his wife, finding it the very least she could do for her dearest brother.

Taglist: @vbecker10

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There is no evidence this place is haunted.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sir Thomas Sharpe, the psychotic murderer?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sincerely,

Michael

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Edith’s husband.” you murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I… I…” He burbled, flustered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Darling,

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

Yours,

Thomas

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

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

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

Your head snapped toward his voice. “Thomas?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you. For staying.”

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