#Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader

[smolvenger]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And yet…

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

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

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

Or not. 

Or both.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He kissed the top of her head.

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

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

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2024-03-05

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

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

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

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

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

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

❆ London Blizzard by sserpente • 〔F〕 •

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

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

❆ Chilly by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

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

❆ Mistletoe Kiss by sserpente • 〔F〕 •

❆ Snow Day by ladyfluff • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

See Also: Navigation || Thomas Sharpe Master Index

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

[lady-rose-moon]

My sweet Baronet

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

Warnings: smut, mentioned incest, Lucille Sharpe, angst, mentions of grooming 🤢

A/N: come on, I love writing for Thomas, gimme a break!!

Allerdale was colder at night. You had to pull up the blankets to your chin to even feel a semblance of warmth. The house was falling apart and yet neither Thomas nor Lucille had paid for someone to repair it. You had offered to get the finest builders on the job but both had vehemently ordered that you not hire anyone. Then there were the ghosts that you kept seeing, they were always in your peripheral vision or disappeared just as you realised they were there. 

Thomas had always insisted that the ghosts were just your imagination but you knew that you saw them and you could see in your husband’s eye that he believed you. On the subject of your husband, he was once again not in your bed tonight. It was saddening that you were becoming used to being alone in the King sized bed when you fell asleep and awoke. 

You were fully awake tonight and decided that you would explore the crumbling mansion with your candelabra, the stray dog at your feet. Your bare feet pattered against the rotting floorboards as you walked along the floor that you were on. Thomas’s grand bedroom seemed to take up most of the floor but the other side was unfurnished as if all the furniture had been sold because of lack of use. 

Something urged you up the stairs, the hairs on your arm rising as you came up into the attic, hearing the soft song of a woman; Lucille. Dread pooled in your stomach as you edged closer to Lucille’s bedroom door and when you turned the knob and the door swung open, you were greeted with the sight of Lucille on Thomas’s lap, her hand down the front of his trousers and his mouth locked on her neck. 

You were so tempted to say something but before they could register that you had been there, you had closed the door again and swept down the stairs back into Thomas’s spacious bedroom. 

You began to pace the floor as you nibbled on one of your nails. They slept together. They loved each other. Thomas doesn’t love you. The recording tubes that you listened to, the photo of a baby, you realised now that the baby wasn’t Thomas’s with Enola, it was Lucille’s baby.

Nausea rose in your throat but you swallowed it down as you moved to sit on the windowsill and watch the snow fall. You were in a one-sided marriage. You loved Thomas more than anything, he had been there for you endlessly when your brother died, leaving you the heir to your family's fortune. 

You didn’t realise how long you were sitting on the sill until a soft pair of lips pressed to your forehead. Your eyes shifted from the freshly fallen snow to the alluring blue of your husband's eye, the eyes that had only been for Lucille all this time. 

“How long?” you whispered, feeling your husband falter in his stance, staring at you with a look of confusion.

“How long, what, my darling?” Thomas whispered, sitting on the sill in front of you, a frown playing at his lips when he saw how distraught you looked and he noted how you looked as if you hadn’t gotten a speck of sleep last night. 

You scoffed and looked back out of the window to the fallen snow, wishing you were as free as the snowflakes elegantly falling from the clouds. Instead, you felt like a wealthy caged bird inside the crumbling mansion belonging to your husband and his sister/mistress. “How long have you been fucking Lucille, Thomas?” you spat, meeting his gaze head on and you watched his eyes widen comically and his breath hitch, “how long?!”

Thomas released a breathy chuckle and stood from the sill, knowing you still had your eyes on him as he walked to his wardrobe and pulled out the day’s outfit. “I have no idea what you are talking about, dearest, Lucille is my sister,” the Baronet returned eventually, buttoning his shirt and looking over at you, registering the cold look in your eye and flinching away from it.

“Don’t play with pretty words, Baronet,” you sneered, rising from your seat and ignoring the ache in your rear from sitting as you approached your cheater of a husband, “I saw you in the early hours of this morning, her hand down your pants, you openly appreciating her neck. Don’t bullshit me, Thomas.”

“Such words, my love!” Thomas protested, his brows furrowing with worry.

“The Gods will pardon my words to you, husband! Avoiding my question will only prolong my blasphemy! Admit it and God shall forgive,” you countered, your arms crossing over your nightgown as you held his gaze. You weren’t afraid of the man before you even though you knew he had the power to kill you with his bare hands.

Thomas lowered his head and sighed, tears forming in his oceanic eyes as he whispered, “since I was young.”

The words struck you immediately and you stared at your husband incredulously, “since… since you were how young, Thomas?”

“Since I was a boy,” the Baronet whispered, raising his head to meet yours as his eyes glimmered with confusion, “don’t tell me you and your brother didn’t…”

You realised his implication and you were sickened by it. Not him, never him, but you were sickened of Lucille for manipulating the Baronet into thinking that incest was the done thing when children were young. “God no!” you protested quickly, watching Thomas’s eyes widen in surprise, “that is wrong, Thomas, sex between siblings is so very wrong indeed!”

“But… Lucille said…” Thomas trailed off, his eyes becoming distant as tears formed again and dripped down his cheeks. “Lucille said that it was how I showed my love for her,” he whispered at last, watching your face fall.

You stepped closer to your husband and cupped his cheek, watching him instantly lean into the warmth of your palm. “This is love,” you whispered, watching as his eyes struggled to meet your own, “my love for you is the real love here. Lucille was manipulating you for her own gain. If she slept with you, lost her flower then she would never have to marry.”

Thomas tensed and shook his head quickly as tears brimmed in his beautiful eyes. You hated watching him cry. He rarely did but after a night of running experiments on his machine and failing to get it running, he would seek you out and rant until he was in tears. In a reflex that you knew you would never get rid of, you reached up and wiped away his tears, watching the muscles in his face relax as he leaned into the contact. 

“What you have with her isn’t love,” you whispered, watching Thomas’s eyes flutter open to meet yours. You offered him a soft smile as you edged him backwards to the bed and smiled as he fell back onto the sheets, his eyes never leaving your own. “Let me show you what love is,” you pleaded, noticing how his breath hitched and felt as his cock took an interest.

You leaned your body down and began to pepper kisses down from behind his ear to the top of his half-buttoned shirt. The chest hair that was visible teased your lips as you pulled away.

“This isn’t love, either,” Thomas whispered, a frown playing on his thin lip.

“How can you be sure?” you whispered, your hand grazing over his trousers just enough for him to hiss from the contact. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t love me?” you questioned, fully prepared for his rejection. He loved Lucille. This was never to be.

Thomas hesitated before bringing your face to his gently and pressing a loving kiss to your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed and he followed quickly after. You quickly unbuttoned his shirt, your hands roaming over his chest and down his abdomen as you sat on his hips. The kiss was passionate and full of lust, unlike the sparse and quick pecks that he had given to you before. 

Thomas was breathless beneath you as you both devoured the taste of each other. You had missed feeling this electric excitement when you were near him, he had been so distant lately that you felt as if you would soon fall out of love with him too. You pulled away from his lips and whispered a faint, “please don’t divorce me.”

Thomas’s eyes slowly opened and met your own quickly in confusion. “Divorce you?” he whispered brokenly, his soft hands climbing up your thighs on either side of his lap, “why, by God, would I do that?”

“To resume your tryst with Lucille,” you replied simply, disgust lacing your tone as you spoke but you watched as Thomas quickly shook his head and captured your lips in his again. This kiss was slow, trusting and understanding. Thomas needed you to know that he loved you, depended on your love for him, obsessed over seeing your smile, needy to feel your bare skin against his own.

“No,” he murmured against your lips, his hands continuing their journey exploring your clothed body before he pulled the sleeping gown from your body and admired the body beneath. “No, I would never continue my tryst with Lucille,” he continued, his eyes locked with yours as his hands hesitantly explored, “not after you have opened my eyes.”

The Baronet’s hands held your waist and flipped you over onto the mattress, his strong body leaning over you as he heaved breaths, his pupils dilated and the evident arousal pressing against his trousers. “I crave you, sweet one,” Thomas whispered, one of his hands roaming over your body, cupping your breast and gently playing with one of your nipples with his thumb, “I crave to know how it feels to bring you into womanhood, to watch your face contort in such beautiful expressions of pleasure, to hear you scream to Heaven above that I am your husband, that I am yours, as I always should have been.”

You nodded eagerly and he smirked as he lowered his lips onto yours once more. You sighed between his lips and bit back playfully, your chest pressing up against his own, now naked, torso. Your fingers slithered up the sides of his neck and your nails wrapped themselves in the beautiful curls that surrounded his head like a halo. You pulled away for breath but didn’t let anything more than a second pass before you captured his lips again, one of your hands disentangling from his hair to slide down to his trousers, aiding him in pulling them off. 

Thomas groaned against your lips as he was now freed from the confinement of his pants. His hardened length was already swollen and red, greedily anticipating breaching you and claiming you. Before you could pull him closer, Thomas pulled himself from you and smirked as he whispered, “allow me to do something for us both, darling.”

You nodded shakily and watched as he left the bed, grabbed a cloth and covered the door handle and keyhole with it, nodding with satisfaction to himself before returning to you. Once he was back on top of you, he grabbed one of your legs and began to press open-mouthed kisses to your bare skin and he revelled in the way that you whined and arched up for him. He was so patient, so gentle, sucking marks into your skin all over and allowing you to feel so perfect.

“Are you ready?” he whispered gently, watching as your eyes met his and you nodded eagerly, your eyes fluttering shut when Thomas’s lips met yours. You had almost forgotten what was happening before you felt the hot tip of his cock press against your entrance and you whined into the kiss but Thomas pulled from your lips and pressed gentle kisses down your neck as he whispered, “it’s okay, I have you, baby,” and his cock gradually slipped inside. 

Once he was fully seated inside you, Thomas threw his head back in pleasure and released a throaty groan. He wasn’t surprised at your tightness, he fully enjoyed your nervous whimper and gasps, craving for him to move with half of your body but the other half needed a wait. Thomas slowly eased out of you and kissed away the pained expression that drew your brow together before he slowly thrust forward and savoured your pleasure-filled moan.

Minutes passed with him performing these small motions, of you keening beneath him and your legs beginning to wrap around his middle before you were ready and his thrusts increased. 

The feeling of his cock slowly increasing in speed made your heart flutter and electricity run throughout your body. You had needed this ever since you had first signed that marriage certificate. 

“Thomas,” you whined against him as the raven-haired Baronet cradled your head and his hips increased in their speed, his cock continuing to fuck you so deliciously well. He felt so perfect inside you and you knew that you needed this immediately, you couldn’t go another day without this. “I love you, mmnn, I love you, husband,” you whispered, feeling his cock twitch inside you at your confession.

Thomas pulled back and studied your eyes, trying to find the lie but when he found nothing but love, trust and lust, he smiled and pressed his lips quickly to yours before pulling back and whispering, “I love you too.”

Groaning, he pulled out to the tip before sinking back in and listening to your delighted moan at the motion so he proceeded to do it again and again, increasing the pace until he was pounding into you and bringing out feral moans from the back of your throat.

Your hands left his hair to grip at the sheets beside your head as your filter for noise was destroyed by the intoxicating feel of his cock bruising your insides repeatedly. The Baronet had to be carved by a sulptor, you thought as pleasure filled your mind, he was covered with a thin sheen of sweat and yet he still looked utterly handsome. 

Thomas’s hand fell to your eager clit and began to massage it slowly before gradually matching the pace to his thrusts, pushing you over the edge into utter oblivion. He didn’t leave you waiting long, however, as he came quickly behind you and moaned your name into the quiet air of the grand bedroom. 

Silence reigned in the room as you both came down from your highs and as Thomas cleaned you up, pressing light kisses to your legs as he cleaned your cunt of any of his seed that leaked out and your natural juices. 

When Thomas finally slipped into bed minutes later, you rolled over and draped your arm over his chest, your head fitting snugly in the crook of his neck. The sound of his heart pounding below his skin was oddly comforting and reassured you that he was your husband and you were his wife. 

“Thomas?” you whispered into the dark, earning a drowsy hum in reply, “what do we do about your sister?”

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked, his head shifting so he could easily look down at your head on his shoulder.

Your cheeks flushed and you looked away from him, “well, she probably heard all of this, what do we do?”

“I don’t care,” Thomas replied, pulling you into another soft kiss before rolling on top of you and claiming your lips. 

You eagerly accepted his kiss before his hand began to slip between your legs and you pulled away with a laugh, “Thomas, we just got clean!”

“Then I shall clean you again and again, my love, you shall never feel deprived of my love,” Thomas answered smugly, spreading kisses down your neck that turned your laughter into moans.

Just outside the door, Lucille Sharpe had planned 14,785,435 ways to kill you for stealing Thomas from her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

@lokisgoodgirl

@lokisninerealms

@evelyn-kingsley

@slpnbty2001

@jennyggggrrr

@hahaha12123445

@ozymdias

@holdmytesseract

@itsybitchylittlewitchy

@lovingchoices14

@xorpsbane

[lulubelle814]

In Every Life - Part 3

Part 2 - In Every Life Masterlist

Masterlist

Present Day (1975)

Everything was on fire.  Smoke and screams filled the air.  He was glad she wasn’t here to witness this, but he knew it’s what he deserved for what happened to her, for trying to move on afterwards.

Glancing over the balcony wall, the building next to theirs was suffering a similar fate.  Thankfully that’s where the chaos and destruction seemed to end.  In the far distance, he saw the city, quiet in the early morning hours.  He could almost spot the neighborhood where they were supposed to live together before it happened.  

Bitter-sweet memories / That's all I'm taking with me / Good-bye, please don't cry

He could hear the music floating on the wind, reminding him of the enormous hold in his heart.

1 year ago

Valerie needed to get out of her apartment for some fresh air, and it was such a beautiful day.  Grabbing her purse and a book, she headed outside and down the block.

Standing at the crosswalk, she patiently waited for the crossing sign to give the go ahead to cross safely when someone walked past her, evidently not paying attention.  He was, however, jolted back to the present by someone grabbing his arm and pulling him back just as a car was about to hit him.  The gentleman managed to keep himself upright.  Looking at his savior, she was just a tad shorter than him with wavy auburn hair and the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.  “I can’t believe I almost walked straight into traffic,” he exclaimed.  “I’ve never done that before.  I swear.”

She smiled at him.  “It happens to the best of us.”  

Although embarrassed, he introduced himself.  “I’m Robert Laing.”  

“Valerie Hutton.”

“Can I buy you a cup of coffee to thank you?”

She nodded.  “I’d love that.  I was just on my way to get one anyways.”  It seemed fortune favored him this morning.

Once safe to do so, they crossed the street together.  There was a diner she enjoyed going to since she moved to the area a few weeks ago.  Evidently he was also a fan of the same diner.  Sitting down, he ordered a coffee while she had tea.

Looking back at him, she had to ask. “So what made you so preoccupied that you almost walked into traffic?”

She smiled and laughed a little, as did he. “I've got this complicated surgery later this afternoon, and I keep going over it in my head. I want to make sure it goes well.”

Frowning, she was confused. “I'm you're having surgery, should you be drinking coffee? I thought you couldn't eat or drink for, like, hours before going under the knife.”

He raised his eyebrows, confused a bit before it dawned on him. “Oh! I should probably clarify. I'm a doctor. A surgeon actually.”

‘Impressive,’ she thought. “What kind of doctor?”

“A neurosurgeon actually. My patient this afternoon has a tumor that's delicate to operate on, and I want to make sure it goes as well as it possibly can.”

“Well, walking into traffic isn't one of those things, I hope.” Valerie smiled at her own joke. Robert laughed as well. “No, it definitely is not. Thank you again for saving me. I feel like buying you a cup of tea isn't thanks enough. Maybe I could take you to dinner tomorrow?”

“I'd love that. Plus you can tell me how the surgery went.”

“Sounds like a great plan to me.” He realized he hadn't eaten breakfast yet this morning and was feeling a bit peckish. “I'm going to order some breakfast. You're welcome to order something as well. It's on me.”

“Oh, breakfast AND dinner? You really know the way to my heart.” She laughed, as did he. When the waitress came back with their drinks, they ordered some food: pancakes for her and an omelet for him. As they chatted, they ended up sharing bits of their food with each other. 

“So what do you do for a living, if I may ask?”

“I'm a secretary at a law firm. It's nothing fancy, but it pays the bills. I mostly just answer phones, file paperwork, and let my boss know when their clients arrive.”

She was certain at that moment that he’d make an excuse to cancel their dinner date for the following night.  Why would a neurosurgeon be interested in dating a secretary?  Oh well.  She at least got to have breakfast with him.  But maybe he wouldn’t cancel?  While they had just barely met, she had this feeling about him, that he wasn’t that kind of guy, that she wanted to spend more time with him.  What she didn’t know was that he felt the same.  Not about the job comparison but that he also desired to spend more time with her.  It’s like there was some sort of connection from the moment he saw her when she pulled him back just in time to avoid getting hit by a car.

When their dinner date rolled around the next evening, they could barely take their eyes off each other, playing a bit of footsie under the table.  It was like they’d been together for years and the rest was only minor details.

“How did the surgery go?”  She was genuinely curious, not just asking to be polite which surprised him a bit.  The ladies he usually went on dates with didn’t care about the actual surgeries, more just that he was a doctor.

“It went very well!  Thank you for asking.  I was able to get the entire tumor removed, and my patient is recovering well so far.  That’s all thanks to you by saving me from walking in front of a car while being stuck in my own head.  I quite enjoy telling my colleagues that I was saved by a beautiful woman who agreed to have dinner with me.”

She could help the blush that spread across her cheeks, feeling slightly embarrassed.  She wasn’t used to being complimented like that.  Usually when that happened, she was being cat-called by construction workers or getting hit on by random drunks (which is why she steered clear of going to bars at this point in her life).  “You are too kind, Robert.”

“I mean it! You are the most captivating woman I’ve ever encountered.  While I do not relish the thought of being hit by a car, I’m glad it gave us a chance to meet.” She blushed again. “How was your day at the office?”  He genuinely wanted to get to know her.

“It was the same for the most part.”  He raised an eyebrow at her statement, silently inquiring what made it different.  “A new client came in today, and something about him just gave me the creeps.  My boss has different kinds of clients, but something about this guy just ....”  She shuttered. “I’ll be very glad when their business is concluded.  I hope it won’t take long.  Roger was fingered as the guy who robbed that petrol station a couple of weeks ago, but the entire case (from the bits I’ve heard) are largely circumstantial.”

“I’m so sorry, darling.  I can’t imagine what that must feel like.  If he does give you trouble, let me know?  I’d happily defend your honor.”  It was easy to tell he meant every single word.  There was just something about Robert that made her feel safe, like she could run to him with any problem, and he’d solve it for her. Frankly, it scared her a little as well, to feel this way about an almost complete stranger.  The only person in her life that she’d felt this way about before was her dad, but he passed a few years ago, heart attack.  

“I really appreciate that.  Really.  More than you know.”  He could tell from her response that she didn’t have someone like that in her life, and it made him sad and even more determined to be there for her when she needed it.  He decided at that moment that no matter if this worked out or not, he’d be there whenever she needed someone, but there was no way he’d let this incredible woman walk away without a fight should something happen.

Looking at the menu, everything sounded incredible.  She ordered the shrimp garlic pasta while he ordered the lasagna.  Both looked so good that they ended up sharing their dishes.  When she offered some to him on her fork (with the intention of putting it on his plate), he instead leaned forward and ate it directly off the utensil causing butterflies to explode in her stomach.  So when he held up a piece of his lasagna for her to try, she did the same.  It then took everything he had not to just jump across the table to kiss her silly.

To say dinner went well was an understatement.  Valerie didn’t have a car.  So she splurged and got a taxi.  Rather than take a taxi back home, Robert offered her a ride.  When she gave him the cross streets for her apartment, he got excited as it was not that far from his place.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he exclaimed.  “I live on the other side of Creston street!”

“By that beautiful flower shop?”

“That’s the one!”

“No way!  You’re maybe a 10 minute walk from here.  Talk about coincidence!” 

Parking his car, he walked her up to her apartment.  Not wanting to get ahead of himself and scare her, he gave her a kiss on the cheek.  “I’d like to see you again, if that’s alright.”  She agreed, and they made plans to go to the new Robert Redford movie, The Great Gatsby.

She woke up early the next morning to a light knock on the door.  Looking through the peephole, she didn’t see anyone.  Maybe it was a delivery or something?  Opening her door, she saw the most beautiful bouquet of peonies.

Tucked inside, she found a card.

These pale in comparison to your beauty.  Thank you for a wonderful evening. -Robert

She squeed so loud with joy that her elderly neighbor opened their door.  “Is everything alright, dear?”

“Yes, sorry Ms. Tully.”  She loved her neighbor.  Ms. Tully welcomed Valerie to the building when she moved in.  Her husband had died some years before, and Valerie took it upon herself to look after her sweet neighbor.  She was small but mighty.  Someone had tried to rob her on the street a while back, and she beat them with her cane, scolding them to the point that they turned themselves into the police to protect him from her.  As it turned out, the police had been looking for the would-be robber as he’d attacked several women to steal their purses.  The arresting officer at the precinct laughed when the robber told him why he turned himself in, not believing an elderly lady would be able to do such a thing.

“Why don’t you come over for a cuppa and tell me about the gentleman who sent those?”  Ms. Tully always had the best biscuits, and Valerie could never turn her down.  After placing the flowers on her coffee table, she scurried over to her neighbor’s place.

As soon as she sat down, Muffin jumped into her lap, demanding pets.  Muffin was an overweight but very sweet calico.  Well, sweet to her and Ms. Tully.  Muffin typically hated most people and had the tendency to lay in the window to judge everyone walking by.  Her mortal enemy was the bird who would regularly sit on a branch just outside the window and mock her, at least that’s how muffin felt.  Okay, fine.  Muffin was a spiteful old bitch who was very picky about who she liked.

Ms. Tully brought over a pot of tea with 2 cups and a fresh batch of homemade biscuits.  Valerie told her all about Robert: how they met, him taking her to breakfast, and their date last night.  No detail was spared.  

“That’s how I felt about my Steve.  People said love at first sight doesn’t exist, but I can assure you it does.  We met when my friends took me out dancing.  When I saw him, it was like everyone else ceased to exist.  We danced all night, and then he walked me home.”

Valerie loved when Ms. Tully would tell stories about her husband.  She wanted that, a relationship like the Tullys.  The only problem is that other than her neighbor, those stories only seemed to exist in fairy tales.  At least until she ran into Robert.  They’d only known each other a few days, but from the moment their eyes met on that street corner, nothing else seemed to matter.  

It’s not that she was unhappy with her life.  In fact, she was quite content. She had a good boss, a couple of good friends, an elderly neighbor she adored, and an apartment she loved.  If that was all she got in life, she was very happy with it.

“If he hurts you in any way, he’ll have me to deal with.”  Valerie laughed, imagining Ms. Tully beat Robert (who was more than a foot taller than her dear neighbor) with her cane.

“I’ll be sure to let him know.”  She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when she told him.  It was inevitable that Robert would meet Ms. Tully, and she’d put the fear of God in him.

Val had to leave.  There were a few things she had to take care of today, namely her laundry.  Her building didn’t have machines.  So she packed up her laundry in a large basket, a book, and a fist full of quarters and headed to the laundromat for the next 3 hours (depending how many machines were available).  When she arrived, there were (thankfully) 2 machines available.  She promptly filled them up and started her wash before tucking away in a chair with her book.  

Not even a few pages in, she heard the door open and felt a pair of eyes on her.  Looking up, Robert was looking at her while holding his own bag of laundry.

“Fancy meeting you here.”  They both laughed.

“I’d think a fancy doctor like you would have your stuff dry cleaned.”

He grinned, loving her snarky remark.  “Just for my suits.  For everything else, I prefer to slum it.”  She couldn’t hold in a snorting laugh which made him smile even more.  He wanted to hear more of that laugh.

Thankfully more machines were becoming free, allowing him to start his own laundry.  While he did that, she cleared out the seat next to her in case he wanted to sit there, which he did.  He’d brought his own book to entertain himself.  Instead, they spend the next couple of hours chatting and laughing.

She told him about Ms. Tully’s warning.  “You’ll have to meet her sometime.  Watch out though.  Her cat hates people.  Well, most people.”

“I’ll be sure to pack my pockets with treats.  My mum had a cat like that, and bacon was the way to his heart.”

“I think bacon is the way to most people’s hearts.”  The entire time they were there, neither touched their books.  

“Normally I try to do my laundry on a Thursday evening, but the surgery ran long.”

“I usually come on a Friday night, but I had a date with this cute guy.”

He raised an eyebrow and smirked.  “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.  It went well at first, but I don’t think anything will come of it.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, he didn't seem to pay attention and almost walked straight into traffic.”  

He laughed.  At some point, his arm rested on the back of her chair.  In her imagination, she could see them doing laundry together for the coming months until they got married.  He’d buy a house with a washer and dryer.  Then they’d do laundry together while taking care of their kids.  She could see the toys strewn around the living room, the books relocated to a little library room that also acted as a home office when he needed to work on paperwork.  The kids would play around the backyard with 

She had to shake herself out of that image.  There was no telling if this would work out or not, and she didn’t want to get ahead of herself.  But it was just such a beautiful picture in her mind.  Little did she know that he was picturing something similar.

“Thank you so much for the flowers.  They’re beautiful!  Peonies are my favorite, especially white and lavender ones.”

“I’m so glad you like them.  I saw them at the flower shop when I was passing by, and they made me think of you.  I couldn’t not get them for you.”  He made a mental note about the peony being her favorite.

When their laundry was done, they used one of the tables to fold everything.  It was hard not to laugh watching him struggle to fold a fitted sheet.  She took it from him and folded it (mostly) for him.  “That’s much better than anything I can do with that.  It seems like they make those things impossible to fold.  Sometimes I just roll it up and toss it in a cupboard.”

“I get that.  I’m not great at folding those, but Ms. Tully showed me how she folds hers.  I can’t do it nearly as well as she can.  That’s about as close as I can get.”  

Robert didn’t care one bit, not even if she had set the sheet on fire or thrown it in the bin.  Running into her at the laundromat made his day.  There was just something about her he couldn’t put his finger on, but being even in her vicinity brought him comfort and helped him to relax.  His colleagues had been giving him a hard time for quite a while, even trying to set him up on dates.  Women would very openly flirt with him as well.  He was just never interested.

She handed the sheet back to him, and his hands brushed hers as he went to take it from her.  That one touch made him forget where they were.  He tossed the sheet carelessly into his basket as he leaned down, placed a hand on her cheek, and lightly placed his lips on hers.  The moment their lips touched was like fireworks.  She leaned up into him, returning his kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck.  As he wrapped his around her waist, a distinct coughing sound brought them back to reality causing them to pull apart.  Looking around, the handful of patrons in the laundromat were all staring at them.  “Get a room,” someone said.  Sheepishly, they finished folding their laundry and headed their separate ways.

Two weeks had passed.  Robert and Valerie continue to go on dates, and he’d kiss her each time he took her home.  Last night he’d taken her dancing, which she hadn’t done in a long time.  Neither had he, in fact.  But they both had so much fun.

Today, however, he was at the hospital.  There was a minor surgery he was performing.  She’d come back from grocery shopping to find Ms. Tully’s door broken open.  Logically she knew she should call the police, but that thought went out the window when she heard Muffin’s meows.  Dropping her bags by her door, she ran into Ms. Tully’s place to find it in shambles.  Muffin came out and led Valerie to where Ms. Tully was unconscious on the floor, bleeding from the back of her head.  She ran over to check that she was still breathing.  Placing 2 fingers on the pulse point in her neck, Ms. Tully was definitely still alive.  Hurriedly, she rang the police, giving them the address and apartment number.  While she waited, she stayed with her elderly neighbor, knowing enough, at least, not to move her.  

The police arrived a few minutes later along with an ambulance.  Valerie answered questions while the paramedics loaded Ms. Tully into the ambulance.  When all was said and done, they let her know which hospital her neighbor would be taken to before leaving her alone.  

Before anything else, she took Muffin to her apartment so that the cat wouldn’t get hurt accidentally by the broken glass and such.  She also took over the cat’s food (putting it in a cupboard in the hall) and litter box (which she put in the spare bathroom).  Now that Muffin was safe, she spent the next couple of hours cleaning up her neighbor’s apartment, trying to salvage what she could.  

Another caring neighbor had seen the aftermath with the door in shambles and, without asking, worked on repairing what he could.  It would stand well enough to appear secure, but in the end, the door would need replacing.  He took the liberty of talking with the landlord who had the door replaced very quickly.  The landlord had a sweet spot for Ms. Tully especially as she was the longest running tennant he’d had in that building with little to no issues.

Once the door was replaced, he left a copy of the keys with Val who would give them to her neighbor.  When all was said and done, she hopped in a cab to the mentioned hospital.  Finding the welcome desk, she asked about Ms. Tully.  She was in surgery as they’d found a brain clot from being hit on the back of her head but the attending surgeon should be done shortly.  The kind nurse said they’d keep her up to date if she was staying, which of course she was.

It was at least another hour later when the nurse told her that the doctor would be out shortly to talk to her.  When the doctor came out, he asked the nurse who was the one here for his patient.  Pointing to Valerie (who had her back facing the nurse), he walked over to her.

“Are you here for…..Valerie?”  Hearing his voice, she looked up, seeing Robert in his scrubs.  She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him.  She began to cry on his chest.  He sat them down and held her close.  “I didn’t think when I saw the name Tully that it would be your neighbor, darling.”  He shushed and cooed into her ear, trying to help calm her down.

“It was so awful, Robert!  I was only gone for maybe 20 minutes to get a few things from the store.  When I came back, her door was wide open…..glass everywhere………”  He continued to console her, trying to help her calm down.

“It’s alright darling.  She’s alright thanks to you.”  He pulled back to look her in the eyes.  “She’s a fighter, that one.  Ms. Tully has a fair number of bruises and a fractured right arm.  The most alarming part was the brain clot from where she’d been hit, but I was able to get it cleaned up.  It’ll take a while, but she’ll recover.”

Knowing that it was her Robert who performed the operation brought her an immense amount of relief.  “I’ve got Muffin set up at my place.”  She thought for a minute.  “Who could have done this?  Who would attack poor Ms. Tully?  IN HER OWN HOME!”

“I don’t know, darling.  I don’t know.  But I’m sure the police are working very hard to find out who did this.  She’s in recovery right now.  I need to go check on her.  I’ll come get you once she’s settled in a room?”  She nodded.

When he came back to the waiting room, he guided her back to his elderly patient’s room.  Being the head neurosurgeon, he pulled some strings to get Ms. Tully her own room.  It even had a view of the hospital garden.

Valerie was happy to see her neighbor awake already.  Robert checked her vitals and looked over the stitches in her head to make sure everything was still holding properly.

“Valerie, I know you’ve been seeing that gentleman you told me about, but I think Dr. Laing here is a real catch.  Just look at him!”

Robert blushed, and Valerie was shocked.  “Ms. Tully!  You just got out of surgery, and you’re trying to set me up with your doctor?”

Ms. Tully grinned as she nodded.  Rather than tell her who Robert was to her, she walked over and gazed into his eyes.  “I suppose you’re right.  He is very easy on the eyes.  I wonder…..”  She leaned up and kissed him.  “Yep, good kisser.  I think you’re right, Ms. Tully.”

Robert wasn’t sure what to do at this point until Valerie broke down laughing.  “Ms. Tully, this is the man I’ve been telling you about, Robert.”  Ms. Tully looked between the two before narrowing her eyes at her doctor.  “If you do anything at all to hurt her, you’ll have to answer to me.  And keep that dingle-doodle to yourself.”

Robert held his hands up in retreat.  “You have my word, Ms. Tully.”

Valerie giggled a bit before turning back to her neighbor.  “Don’t worry about Muffin.  She’s at my place.  I’ve got her food and litter box.  Mr. Jenkins already replaced your door, and he gave me the spare keys.”  

Robert took his turn, this time as Dr. Laing.  “Surgery went well.  You had a clot from the hit to your head, but it’s cleaned up.  Your right arm is fractured, and you’ve got a fair number of bruises.  I’d like to keep you here for a week to make sure you’re healing well.  We’ve also got you on some medications to help with the pain.  Is that alright, Ms. Tully?  Do you have any questions?”

Rather than address her doctor, Ms. Tully looked to Valerie.  “Is Muffin alright?  She gave the man a fright, scratching and clawing at him.  Even bit his ass.  I’ve never seen Muffin move like that before, especially for an old fat cat.”

“She’s good.  I looked her over, and nothing seemed to be wrong.  I’ll take good care of her until you get home.”  It was touching how she was more worried about the cat than herself.  “Is there anyone you want me to call?”

In the end, Ms. Tully had Val call her son.  Robert offered to call himself as he was her doctor, but Val thought it would be better coming from her.  The call was brief, and her son was at the hospital within the hour.

“Mum, I’ve told you that you shouldn’t be living alone!”

She scowled.  “I can take care of myself.  I don’t need a caretaker.  I won’t let you put me in a nursing home.”

Robert interjected.  “I hate to say this, but I agree with your son.  Valerie was fortunate to find you as quickly as she did, which is why you're in better shape than what could have happened.”

Acting like a petulant child, Ms. Tully pointed at Robert.  “You’re officially on my shit list.”  It wasn’t the first time a patient had told him that, and he didn’t mind.  He had their best interests at heart.

“Mum, I know you don’t want to go into a nursing home.  I wouldn’t do that to you, but Diane and I would like you to consider moving in with us.  You’d have your own space, but we’d be near.  I know you want to be independent, but we worry about you.”

No decisions were made that night, but Ms. Tully consented to at least think about it.  Valerie assured her that Muffin was fine at her place, and she’d take good care of her cat.

Since his shift was over and all patients had been checked on, Robert drove Valerie home so she wouldn’t have to pay for another taxi.  Well, that and he wanted to see the state of everything for himself.  Valerie used the new key to get into Ms. Tully’s place.  There was still cleaning to do and furniture to put back in place, but it was enough to rattle him.  He moved the heavy  furniture back in place.  It was evident that whomever broke in was checking loads of places for where the elderly resident might hide money or anything of value.  The overturned couch was no surprise.  His own grandma used to hide cash in her couch.  

They eventually made their way over to Valerie’s place next door.  Robert spotted a folded notice on her door and grabbed it for her.  Looking around, most doors had the same one on theirs.  Handing it to her, she didn’t hesitate to open it with Robert reading over her shoulder.  It was a short message from the landlord advising that there was a break-in, that it was an isolated incident, and that he would be working with the police to find out how the intruder got into the building.

Opening the door, Muffin came running to her.  Picking her up, Muffin sniffed Robert, unsure of him at first until she caught a whiff of both her owner and her favorite person (Valerie) all over him.  She gave him a tentative approval and allowed him to pet her.  Robert gave the cat a quick look over to double check she was okay, which she thankfully was.  This cat likely prevented the intruder from doing more damage to Ms. Tully.

“It scares me that someone broke into your building.”  Looking around her apartment, all he could see in that moment was someone breaking in and tearing her place apart.

“Same.  This is usually a pretty safe neighborhood.”  He could tell she was scared that it might happen again.  They sat down on her sofa, and Muffin curled up in her lap while Robert wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, a thought came to his mind. “I have a proposal.”

She hummed in response as she continued to pet the cat.  Her mind was spiraling with thoughts of what would have happened to Ms. Tully if she hadn’t found her so quickly.

“You’re welcome to say no, but how about you stay at my place for a couple of days?  At least until they figure out how the guy got in and can fix it?”

“I…what?”

“I have plenty of space.  You can even sleep in the guestroom.  I promise to be a perfect gentleman.  Absolutely nothing will happen without your express consent.”

She was a bit surprised at his offer.   “We’ve only known each other a few weeks, Robert.  Are you sure about this?”

“I’m very sure.  If you don’t want to stay at mine, I could sleep here on the couch?  I just worry for your safety right now.  I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

It was easy to see the concern in his eyes.  There was no sign of lies in anything he said, and she knew he’d keep his promise.  In fact, it brought her a sense of comfort.  “What about Muffin?”

“Muffin is always welcome.  I don’t have any pets, and she can have the run of the place.”  The cat lifted her head, looking up at Robert as if she understood what he’d said and gave her answer by moving over to Robert and curling up in his lap.

“I think that’s a yes from Muffin.”  They both laughed.  Val packed a few things while Robert loaded up the litter box, food bowl, water bowl, and bag of food for the kitty.  Once she had everything else together, he took her bags to his car as well.  She carried Muffin in her lap during the short drive to his place.

He let her inside before unloading everything from his car.  He showed her to the guestroom while Muffin explored his house, deeming it acceptable.  Robert gave her a spare key.  “I don’t want you to feel like I’m holding you hostage or anything.”

“Not at all.  I’ve just………..okay.  Don’t laugh at me when I say this, but I’ve never stayed over at a man’s place before, not by myself.”

“Why would I laugh at that?  I don’t see anything wrong with it.  If it helps you feel better, I’ve never invited women to stay over, except for my sister.”  He took his hands in hers.  “I know a lot of this is new to both of us, but I swear I won’t do anything to make you uncomfortable.  If you don’t feel alright staying here with me, then I’ll go stay in a hotel so you can be here with Muffin.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.  This is your house, your place.”

“You mean so much more to me.  Just promise me you’ll let me know if something bothers you?”

Valerie nodded.  “Okay.”  He picked up her bags and placed them in the guest room.  She put the litter box in the guest bathroom while Robert placed the bowls in the kitchen, filling one with water.  Muffin didn’t hesitate to make herself comfortable on his loveseat, claiming the entire thing for herself.  Valerie changed into some sleepwear before going back to the living room.

He had changed as well, into a pair of joggers and his old Cambridge shirt.  “I have pizza on the way.” 

They turned on the TV to watch whatever was on (it was an old episode of Doctor Who).  

“How is it that you have this house but no washer/dryer?”  It just dawned on her that with a place this size, it didn’t make sense.

“I started renting this place about 3 months ago, but it didn’t come with them.  I have the hookups for them, but I just keep forgetting to do it until laundry day happens.”

“I’ll go with you, if you’d like?  I don’t know anything about buying a washer/dryer set, but I can keep you company.  We can go on your next day off.  I’ll make a list of local places we can go to.”

He grinned.  “I’d like that.”

Once the pizza arrived, they dug right in.  She was still a little too rattled to be able to eat much, but she was able to consume a couple of slices before she curled up next to Robert, laying her head on his chest.  

He started to yawn and looked at his watch.  It was later than he thought.  He started to get up before realizing she was asleep against him.  Instead of moving her, he reached and grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch to spread over them both.

When he woke up in the morning, she was gone.  As he started to look around, he could smell something cooking in the kitchen.  Slowly getting up, he made his way towards the amazing smell and found her cooking eggs and bacon.  “I could get used to this if you’re not careful.”

“It’s the least I could do for you letting me stay here for a couple of days.”

While she finished cooking, he set the table.  He really could see them doing this on a regular basis, and it felt good.  “I have to go to the hospital today.  I don’t have any surgeries planned, but I have patients to check on and paperwork to go through.”

“I have to go to work as well.  Do you have time to drop me off?”

Smiling, he could definitely get used to this.  “Of course, darling.  In fact, how about you drop me off at the hospital?  You can come by and see Ms. Tully when you’re off work, and I should be ready to leave around then as well.”

“First you trust me with your house, and now with your car?  You must really like me or something.”  Valerie couldn’t help the giant smile from spreading across her face.

“I really do.  Actually, I……” Taking a deep breath, he continued.  “I love you, Valerie.  I know it hasn’t been long, but I do.  I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

She placed a hand on his mouth to stop his rambling.  “I love you too.”  With those words returned, he swept her into his lap and kissed her madly, never wanting to let go, not that she minded one bit.  

Pulling back, he laid his forehead on hers.  “I’ve wanted to tell you that for a while but was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same.  I know this is fast, but….”

Valerie placed her hands on the sides of his neck.  “It is, but it also feels right.”  Her words gave him the reassurance he needed.  Leaning up, she kissed him softly before getting off his lap.  “We’d better get ready for work, mister.”

She sauntered off to the guest room to get ready.  As he got ready in his room, his mind was a whirlpool of thoughts.  It’d only been 2 months.  In his previous relationships, he’d always felt this need to run and hide, afraid to commit.  This time it was the opposite.  From the moment they ran into each other at the crosswalk, he wanted to be with her, stay with her for as long as she’d have him.  Knowing she loved him too was the icing on the cake.

A knock on his bedroom door broke him out of his stupor as he was putting on his tie.

“Does this look okay?”  

“You look amazing.  I’m not sure I can let you out of the house in that.  In fact, I’m not sure I can ever let you leave again.” He smiled, joking of course.  Seeing her look so incredible caused him to forget how to tie a tie.  So she walked over and helped him.  “I could say the same about you, mister.”  

Present Day (1975)

He could hear screams coming from every direction, but none phased him.  This wasn’t where he wanted to be.  No.  He wanted to be at home with his new bride, but fate had other plans.  Damn fate.  Since that was taken from him, this was where he felt he belonged: alone, waiting for the building to finish consuming him.  This is what he deserved after what he did…..well, more like what he didn’t do.

The only thoughts he allowed to pass through his mind at this point was his beloved Valerie and how much he missed her.  

Tears fell down his face again, thinking of her.  Today was supposed to be their wedding day.

4 months ago

The lease on her apartment would be up soon.  With Ms. Tully gone to live with her son, Valerie wasn’t keen on staying.  Her landlord was kind and said she could stay longer as long as she gave him a 30 day notice.  While he enjoyed having her as a tenant and didn’t want her to leave, he had too much respect for her.  She’d always been kind to him, on time with the rent, and all the help she gave Ms. Tully when the break-in occurred.  

Looking at her left hand, she admired the ring.  Robert really had great taste.  While she never imagined getting engaged, she had absolutely no doubts that he’s the one and couldn’t wait to spend the rest of her life with him.

This afternoon, Robert was taking her to look at a house.  “Why are we looking at new places?  Your house works the way it is.”

He looked over at her from the driver’s seat.  “That’s true, but it’s only a rental.  I’d like for us to have our own little slice of paradise.”

He pulled up to a beautiful cottage.

To say she was stunned would be an understatement.  This was her dream home!  “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

She got out of the car and started looking around.  He took his time catching up to her, laughing a bit in the process.  “Is it to your liking?”

Valerie was speechless.  Taking her hand, Robert took her on a tour of the house, showing her the bedrooms, living room, kitchen, and such.  Her favorite part though was the garden out back.  “You can decorate or set up however you’d like.”

She turned to look at him. “Robert, I love it, but this is too much.  I can’t begin to imagine what a place like this costs, not to mention decorating it?  Plus there has to be several others looking at this place, too.”

Robert grinned.  “I wouldn’t say that last bit.”

“What do you mean?”  Confusion spread across her face.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys.  “Because it’s ours.”

Birds fled at the sound of her squealed excitement and jumped into his arms, nearly knocking him over.  “What?  Really??  I can’t believe you bought this place!  It’s perfect!”

Holding her, he spun around a couple times before kissing her and setting her back on her feet.  “You deserve nothing but the best, my dearest.  The wedding isn’t for another 3 or 4 months, but I know your lease is up.  When I saw this place, I knew it was the one.  It will also remove the need to renew your lease on a month-to-month basis.  That was incredibly kind of your landlord to offer, but we can go ahead and move you in here.  As the wedding gets closer, I can pack up my place to move in once we are married.”

“I love you so much, Robert.  You are the most wonderful man I’ve ever known.”

“I love you, too, my darling girl.  You deserve all this and more.”  He took her hand and guided her over to the garage.  “There’s one more thing.”  Opening the garage, they found a brand new Jaguar.

“Oh Robert!  You really shouldn’t have.”

“Yes, I should.  You deserve nothing but the best.  Plus, it’ll be easier than trying to juggle one car between the two of us for going to work……..or picking up the kids…..”

“You want kids?”

He smiled and nodded.  “I do.”

“Me, too.”  Rather than rushing up to him again, she sauntered to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and gave him a sweet kiss.

The next week was filled with packing and moving.  Most of her furniture was sold or donated.  In between everything, wedding plans were being made.  Everything was coming together.   There was even talk about getting a dog.  With so much already going on, they decided to wait until after the wedding to look for just the right dog.

To make unpacking easier, Val had labeled each box by room.  That way when they unloaded boxes, they were put into the room where the contents would be placed.  Hanging up the clothes was easy followed by the kitchen boxes so she could start cooking once she’d gone grocery shopping.

Hearing a knock at the door, she answered it only to find her fiance.  “You know you can let yourself in, right?  Or did you lose your key already?”

“I just didn’t want to walk in on you naked or such.  Not that I would mind, but I figure you might.”

She paused, thinking for a moment.  “Excellent point.  Thank you.  So what are you doing here?  I thought you had surgery this morning?”

He sat on the back of the couch and sighed.  “It got canceled.  When I left last night, she was stable, but something happened overnight, and the patient didn’t make it.”  She walked over to him and gave him a hug which he appreciated.

“I’m so sorry.  That can’t be easy.”

“It’s okay, but enough about me.  I came by to take you out to brunch.  You’ve been working so hard on unpacking and setting things up that I thought you’d like a break.”

She rummaged around in her purse. “I completely forgot to take my keys back to my landlord.  Do you think we could swing by my old place while we’re out?”

Wrapping an arm around her from the side, he leaned over and placed a kiss on the top of her head.  “We can do whatever you’d like.”

They walked out to his car.  Being a gentleman, he opened her door before going around to his own.  The car started with a beautiful rumble, and they made their way into town and to her old complex.  “Would you like me to take them in for you?”  He offered, but she declined.  “I’ll only be a minute.”  She disappeared into the building, coming back out about 10 minutes later.

After brunch, they decided to go on a ride through the countryside.  There was no specific route or destination in mind.  They just went wherever their hearts told them, or at least until the car was almost out of petrol which they took as a sign to head back.

Robert pulled up to a petrol station.  There were 2 other cars there: one was empty but still running by the front door.  The other was parked off to the side, likely belonging to the attendant inside.  He felt this unease as they pulled up next to the petrol pump.  “I think we should maybe try the next petrol station.  Something feels, I don’t know, off?”

Val patted his shoulder. “It’s alright, Robert.  We’re already here.  Go ahead and get the tank filled while I run in to get us some drinks?  I’ll pay for the petrol while I’m inside.”  His gut told him they should leave right then, but he conceded.  “Alright, but let's be quick.  There’s just something about this place that gives me the creeps.”

She agreed, picking up her purse and walking inside.  He got out of the car and started to fill the car up.  Just as it finished and was placing the handle away, there was a loud bang.  Not even thinking about it, he ran inside.  He needed to make sure Valerie was alright.  As he opened the door, a man flew out, almost plowing over Robert in his haste to get away.  If he’d thought about it for even a second, he would have seen the gun in the man’s hand and the blood splatter on his shirt, but he was too focused on finding Valerie.

His eyes darted everywhere.  Moving further into the petrol station, there she was on the ground, gunshot wound to the abdomen, bleeding profusely.  He dove to her side, taking off his jacket to try to stop the flow of blood, but even his medical knowledge told him there was nothing he could do, but all logic had left him at that point.  The bullet had gone through her kidney causing her to go through hypovolemic shock.  

“So cold.”  It was difficult to understand her, but he could feel her getting colder by the second.  He scooped her up, holding her close in the vain hope that he could keep her warm, keep her alive.  Just as long as she was in his arms, everything would be okay.

As he held her, he kept brushing her hair with one hand, trying to tell her everything was fine, that help was on the way, and she’d be fine, that she just needed to hold on, but her pulse continued to grow weak.  The tears on her face slowed down as she looked into his eyes.

Bitter-sweet memories / That's all I'm taking with me / Good-bye, please don't cry

“I love you,” she squeaked out.

“I love you, my darling Valerie.  Always.”  His tears started falling faster.

He could feel her heart slowing.  “Always,” she whispered with the last of her breath.  Robert held her body tightly, rocking back and forth as he cried, his reason for living now gone.  It took two police officers and a paramedic to get him to let go of her so they could take the body away.

Present Day (1975)

That was the absolute worst day of his life.  He blamed himself, saying he should have gone with his gut feeling and left to get petrol elsewhere, or at least gone in to pay himself.  Maybe then she’d be here with him or instead of him.  “It should have been me,” he cried to himself.

The foundation was crumbling, the support beams falling.  Robert didn’t care.  He’d only moved to this apartment building because he couldn’t bear living in the house meant for him and Valerie.  Friends and colleagues helped him take care of her belongings and relisted the house while he moved into this concrete monstrosity.  It felt cold and unfeeling from the moment he stepped inside, exactly what he thought he deserved.

The balcony rumbled, vibrating harshly.  Closing his eyes, he accepted his fate just as the balcony on his 25th floor apartment gave way, the building collapsing in fire and dust.

Taglist: @vbecker10

Dividers created by @jiyascepter

[jokeringcutio]

I see you have Crimson Peak listed for fics 👀

Picture this: Sir Thomas Sharpe doesn't have a sister and was never abused, therefore never got into the black widower routine. He's just a struggling inventor in London to wrangle investors for his machine because he's the last of his crumbling family line.

Reader is an heiress who rarely gets out because she's anxious and prone to panic attacks. Quite a sweet and pretty girl, but her parents are ashamed of her and hide her away.

Anyway there's a Halloween masquerade being held in town and both reader and Thomas attend (whether they sneak in or not is up to you) and they meet. They both feel more at home with each other than anyone else in the city, and start seeing each other secretly and fall in love.

Up to you if he asks permission to marry her or they elope and the parents pay to cover it up, but they get married and use her money to fund his inventions and fix up crimson peak. And have kid(s) to continue the family line.

A happy romantic story for two sweet and ignored people 🥰 (smut scene if you wanna, but it should be romantic)

-🐀

AN: Follow me for more Halloween Reader Inserts. More stories will follow this month.

Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader – Halloween (Sweet AU) Fandom: Crimson Peak Pairing: Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader Rating: Teen Summary:  AU in which Sir Thomas Sharpe never had his sister corrupt him and meets Reader at a Halloween masquerade.

Warnings: None Really. Romance. Talk about marriage and kids. Drama. Tiny bit of Angst? Sorry it was written in a rush. Possible Cameo for Albert Shaw.

Charity

In the comfort of your tower chamber, you stood, gazing out of the circle-top window at the people who passed in the streets below. You didn’t feel the need to be among them, content to be up here by yourself in a room full of comfort and little knick-knacks. You had your peace and quiet and you were content with it.

The wealth you had been born in, and the hefty salary that your parents paid you each month, was enough to ensure you wouldn’t have to lift a finger for the entirety of your life. Rich, others would call you. But if they could see your bedroom they might doubt that you were.

You didn’t feel the need for all the lavishness that money could grant you. You hardly spent a dime other than the usual necessities. Material possessions had little interest for you. Instead, you found solace in spending your money on charity, giving away some of your income to charities on a steady base.

It was almost fitting, then, that your heart would be captured by a man who was once a charity case himself.

You met him during one of the few occasions where you were allowed to venture out of your tower where your parents usually kept you locked away… like a secret. They were ashamed because you were still a spinster in your twenties. And you could not blame them. People looked at you oddly and whispered behind your back in the streets. And so you didn’t want to go out and be among them any longer, hiding yourself much to your parents’ relief.

But there were such occasions where you would go out. Usually small balls or events with family and close friends. Sometimes, to bigger events where you knew that people would not be able to recognize you.

You feared their reactions if they saw you, feared what they would say or do.

The yearly Halloween Masquerade was an event you dreaded. The stuffy ballroom, the leering gazes, the suffocating press of bodies all around - it threatened to bring forth the panic attacks that plagued your life. Yet tonight, as you stood at the edge of the dance floor, your eyes took in the beautiful sight of the latest fashion dresses and suits. Beautiful women and men danced together, their masks hiding their faces, yet they grew intimate in their dance. You wondered how it felt, had done so for a while, but at the same time weren’t keen to experience it yourself.

You tried to hide away, to not be noticed, despite the dress you wore; the silken emerald fabric hugged your curves and cascaded down to the floor, shimmering with each movement. The intricate golden mask on your face only partially concealed your identity, but it was enough to give you a fleeting sense of anonymity. People still stopped to ask you for a dance. Men still stopped.

You disliked their leering gazes, the way their eyes seemed to undress you from behind the masks. And so you tried your best to avoid dancing with them. Their intentions were clear, and you were not interested in any of them. Your heart raced, anxiety clawing its way up your throat. If only this evening could come to an end.

And then, a familiar face appeared among the crowd. Your savior. Giselle, one of the few friends you had, came rushing towards you in a gown matching your own. Her wide smile a beacon of relief.

"Would you care to dance?" she asked, her eyes twinkling behind her mask. Finally, you were rescued.

Gratitude surged through you, and a genuine smile bloomed on your face. "I'd love to."

As you danced with Giselle, the familiar pressure in your chest began to dissipate. Her laughter, light and carefree, seemed to chase away the shadows that clung to your heart. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to enjoy the sensation of being alive. And you laughed; a pure, wholehearted smile.

Your joy was noted.

As you and Giselle danced, you felt the burning gaze of someone on your form. You carefully started to glance around.

“What are you doing?” Giselle asked, having noticed how your eyes traced the room.

“Someone’s watching me,” you mumbled, just loud enough for your voice to be carried over the tones of the music.

Giselle chuckled as she spun you around gracefully. “Of course, people are watching us,” she said, a sneer appeared on her face. “The Duke of Sparington has been trying to get my attention all evening. I’m so glad to get away. The guy’s in his forties and already has two kids and a tummy like a barrel. If I were to marry him he’d kill me in his sleep just by rolling over and ending on top of me.”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh again, even though Giselle seemed to be grimacing at your reaction. It was obvious that she was repulsed by the man who had decided to chase her.

“Tell me, for the love of God,” you started, “That your parents won’t allow the match.”

But Giselle sighed deeply. “They’re much like yours,” she muttered, squeezing your hand a little too tightly as you continued the dance. “Eager to have me wed, even though they said to have given up on me already.”

Your eyes turned wide. “Well, you must convince them to hand you to another. If not younger, then at least thinner so you won’t be suffocated during your night’s rest.”

Giselle grinned at this, appreciating the joke. But you knew her situation was slightly different than yours. Albeit having been born in money pretty much like you had, Giselle’s dowry wasn’t nearly as large as yours. And her parents could not hide her away like yours had with you. The day for her to marry seemed to be closing in with each passing year.

You dreaded the thought.

If only we could marry for love, you thought solemnly. You held Giselle’s hand in your own as you spun around the room. And as the music swelled, your eyes drifted across the ballroom, settling on a figure who stood in stark contrast to the colorful array of masks and costumes. He was tall, slender yet muscular, clad in black as though he were an ethereal shadow amidst the sea of gaiety. His piercing blue eyes seemed to draw you in, ensnaring you with their intensity.

You couldn't look away. It was as if an invisible thread connected you both, pulling tighter with each passing second. Desire coursed through your veins, leaving you breathless. The world around you blurred, leaving only the two of you locked in this magnetic dance of longing.

This was the man who had been watching you. This was the gaze you had felt all along.

"Your turn," Giselle whispered, releasing your hand. It was then that the dark stranger approached, his movements fluid and graceful as he closed the distance between you.

"May I have this dance?" His voice was soft, yet carried an undertone of command.

"Of course," you breathed, entranced by the mysterious man before you. As he took your hand, electricity sparked between you, igniting a fire deep within your soul.

"Thomas Sharpe," he introduced himself as the two of you began to sway to the music. His low voice sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony as if you'd danced together countless times before. He was good, you noticed. Kept his rhythm well and moved fluently, despite his tall height and rather stiff appearance. This mysterious man took you by surprise completely.

You whispered your name and gazed up at the masked stranger. His blue eyes seemed warm as they lay upon you, peering through the holes of the black and blue mask. The silver lines only emphasized the blue of his eyes, making him seem more like a spirit than a man. Could he be real?

“I haven’t seen you here before,” you murmured, weakly, as you tried to focus on the steps you took with your feet. Focusing was hard, because Thomas’s scent and warmth distracted you, and brought your mind to places your mother would describe as the gutter.

How did this man manage to bring about such wicked thoughts, you wondered? Especially now that you could not even see his full face?

“Ah, yes. That is because I am not from around here,” Thomas replied, and that would explain it all. During your years living here, you’d become familiar with most faces of the high society. And many of them you wished you’d never seen. “I’m only visiting shortly in an attempt to raise sponsors willing to support my cause.”

“And what cause is that?” you asked, eyes meeting his as the two of you swayed gently from side to side.

Something in Thomas’s eyes lit up, like the subject you allowed him to talk about brought him real joy. Joy, and something else. Hope, you wondered?

"I'm working on a machine to mine red clay from the earth surrounding my family's estate," Thomas explained, his eyes burning with passion. "I believe it has the potential to bring great wealth, but I'm in desperate need of funding."

Red bells went off inside your mind. Another gold digger, you thought. You’d seen them before, met them before, although they never had such a great impact as Thomas had.

"Red clay?" You frowned, intrigued by the man and his ambitions. Was he not just another suitor seeking your fortune, but someone fueled by dreams and desires much like your own?

"Indeed, it's a valuable resource with numerous applications," he continued, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "But my family's fortune has dwindled, and our estate is crumbling,” here he paused, giving you time to think. “I'm determined to restore it to its former glory."

"Tell me more," you urged, your heart pounding as power and desire mingled within you. He was a man of ambition, and you felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

As the music played on and the dance floor spun around you, Thomas spoke of his dreams, his lips brushing against your ear with each whispered word. The world outside ceased to exist - it was just you and Thomas, bound together by shared passions and undeniable attraction.

"Thomas," you breathed, feeling as if you were on the brink of something dangerous, yet incredibly thrilling. Your fingers intertwined, creating a bond that seemed unbreakable.

"Time seems to stand still with you," he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

And in that moment, you knew that your life would never be the same.

Perhaps the decision you took was rash. But you had thought about it, had done so for years before this moment had come. You had refused every man who had come to your door simply because you hadn’t felt that spark. You even had started to think you were incapable of feeling such feelings at all. But then Thomas came onto the scene, and he rose feelings inside of you that you had never felt before.

Love. Lust.

Both feelings combined made you feel powerful and strong. If you could feel this for a man, then surely, you would have to chase the chance to be with him. If he wouldn’t want to have you, then so be it, but you at least had to try. You had always been honest about your feelings and had always listened to your heart when you made decisions.

Your heart raced as you pulled Thomas closer, your fingers entwined like tendrils of ivy. The music swelled around you, a wild torrent that threatened to drown out everything else.

"Thomas," you whispered, voice trembling with emotion. "I... I like you."

The words hung in the air between you, a fragile confession that could shatter at any moment. He looked both elated and afraid, his blue eyes wide and vulnerable. What an odd reaction, you thought, alarmed by the fear you saw in his eyes. Did he not want you? You knew it was only one meeting that you had, a few dances that you shared, but there was that spark. That moment when the two of you had gazed into each other’s eyes and had forgotten the world.

Surely, that must have meant something to him, right?

"Truly?" His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. But then his grip on you faltered and you whimpered sadly when his arms fell away. A rejection, you thought upset.

"Sweet girl of mine,” Thomas whispered, the affection making you flinch because it felt so right – but you feared that in a moment he would be gone.

“I can’t give you what you need,” Thomas continued, voice laced with pain. As if admitting this hurt him more than you could possibly imagine. His hand reached for yours again, gently holding it.

“I haven't much to offer. My family's fortune is nearly gone, our estate in ruins...You’d be cold and far away from your family, living with a man who is hardly more than a bagger, trying to scrape back his family’s fortune and bringing back some lost glory to the Sharpe’s name."

"None of that matters to me," you assured him, feeling a strange mixture of fear and exhilaration. It was as if you were free-falling, the ground rushing towards you at breakneck speed. “I would like to explore the possibilities of there being an us. Of you being with me.”

But before he could respond, the music screeched to a halt, leaving you breathless and off-balance. Thomas' grip on your hand loosened, and he looked away, his eyes flicking towards the shadows that lingered at the edge of the ballroom.

"Please excuse me," he muttered, slipping away from you like water through your fingers. You watched him go, feeling bereft and adrift in the suddenly too-large room.

"Who was that?" Giselle asked, appearing at your side with a concerned frown. "You look... shaken."

"Thomas Sharpe," you murmured, still searching for him among the swirling throng of dancers. "He just... left."

"Perhaps it's for the best," she suggested, her gaze following yours. "Forget about him, darling. Dance the night away with me instead."

2.

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

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

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

And you thought he might be onto something.

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

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

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

3.

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

A suitor.

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

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

But wait, had he come looking for you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

4.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How long had he been there?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Fin ~

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

[demigoddessqueens]

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

[holymultiplefandomsbatman]

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

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

[cleo-fox]

Close Quarters

Part 2 of 2

(Part 1)

Summary: The thrilling conclusion to Part 1.

Pairing: Loki x Fem Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki, Reader gets a little bratty, little bit of a sir kink, cunnilingus, blow jobs, filth.

A/N: I know I usually choose a Loki GIF but Thomas Sharpe seemed…more appropriate. I’ve got a couple more one shots with these idiots, so if you want to see more, lemme know.

Mercifully, the hallway is empty.

You imagine that your exit from the elevator looks as scandalous as what happened inside it. You are draped in Loki’s arms, still out of breath and a little glassy eyed from the two earth shattering orgasms that he’d given you only minutes prior. In contrast, Loki looks relatively put together and intently focused, like there’s nothing more important on this earth than getting you both back to your suite as quickly as possible. That thought gives you a bit of a thrill—the idea of you wanting him is not necessarily new or unusual, but the idea that he might want you just as much is utterly thrilling.

It occurs to you that you’re in rather close proximity to his neck and it seems like a shame to let that opportunity go to waste. You press your lips against the pulse point in his throat and lazily make your way along his jaw. His breath hitches when you catch his earlobe between your teeth.

“Are you trying to ensure that I take you in the hallway, Mrs. Pine?” he says, his voice dropping deep.

“I won’t be able to scream for you in the hallway,” you breathe into his ear, “and I kinda think you want that.”

“Minx,” he growls, picking up his pace just slightly as you resume kissing his neck.

“I take it that means I’m right,” you say. “Or that I’m in for it when we get back to the room.”

He chuckles. “Oh, it’s both, darling.”

You shiver and nip at his earlobe once more.

Loki drops the glamor as soon as the door to your room shuts behind you and while you like the cropped blond hair of Jonathan Pine, there is something about his natural long, dark locks that drives you wild.

“Let’s me make two things clear, Agent,” he says as he carries you into the bedroom. “First: there are no covers in here; I want you screaming my name when you come. Second—” he sets you down at the foot of the bed. “—I want to taste your pretty cunt.”

Heat and tension coil in your hips. “I can agree to both of those things.”

“Good. Undress.”

He watches as you slowly strip off your swimsuit, his eyes greedy and hungry. Once you’re completely naked, he gives himself a moment to look you over in full, unconsciously licking his lips when his gaze falls on your breasts and hips, his eyes devouring every inch of you. Finally, he nods at the foot of the bed. “Sit.”

You sit down on the bed and he begins unbuttoning his shirt. He takes his time and you watch, enraptured by the slow reveal of his well-muscled chest and taut, flat stomach. The shirt is discarded on the floor with your swimsuit. He undoes his belt, then the button and zip on his shorts.

He’s wearing black boxer briefs, which surprises you—you had assumed that his preference was likely to go commando. But honestly, the boxer briefs are so fitted that the effect is essentially the same: they cling to every dip and swell and leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. The material is taut across his thighs and his cock strains hard at the fabric. If pressed, you could probably create a reasonably accurate sketch based on this view alone.

You don’t have terribly long to contemplate this, though—he kneels in front of you, pulling you in for a slow kiss, his large hands cupping your breasts. His kiss is thorough and sensual, but the addition of his hands kneading your breasts and gently teasing and pinching the sensitive skin of your nipples may actually send you into the stratosphere.

And then he lowers his mouth to your breast and you lose the ability to form coherent thoughts. He strokes his tongue lazily on your nipple in slow circles, lightly teasing the hardened bud with his teeth and bringing another flood of slick arousal to your cunt. Your hips rock fruitlessly against nothing, seeking friction to ease the throbbing pulse of your clit.

You sigh, letting your eyes close and your head tip back, your fingers tangling in his hair. After a moment, you reach for his free hand and guide it between your legs. His fingers dip between your legs, collecting your slickness and gently rolling against your clit.

You moan and he draws back, eyes dark. “Lie back,” he says softly.

You recline on the bed and his focus shifts to you spread out before him. “Lovely,” he says. He is being sincere—and there’s a power in that that thrills you, that sends even more heat and slick to your aching cunt.

When he’s looked his fill, he brings both of your legs over his broad shoulders. He lowers his head to your cunt slowly, first dipping down to inhale your scent and then with one wicked grin, slipping the warm blade of his tongue between your folds.

Your exhale is shaky and turns into a soft whine in the back of your throat as he licks a long, broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit.

“Fuck, Loki.” His name falls from your lips unbidden. You prop yourself up on your elbows and drink in the sight of him between your legs, head bowed like he is worshiping at the most sacred and solemn altar.

In the elevator, he was determined to make you come as quickly as possible; now, though, in the privacy of your room, he seems intent on taking his time and building you up achingly slowly. His tongue laves over your clit at a leisurely pace, teasing and tasting and sucking until he finds the rhythm and movement that makes you try to press your quaking thighs together because it feels so incredible. He gently presses your legs back open, keeping you spread and fully at the mercy of the rolling waves of pleasure that his mouth is creating. One of his long and elegant fingers slides inside of you and curls, pressing against that sweet, soft spot that makes your hips buck and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

When a second finger joins the first a few minutes later, you know that it won’t be much longer. Loki looks up at you, lust-glazed eyes glittering like he knows that too.

You approach the edge slowly, your breath coming in rolling gasps, your hands gripping his hair. He watches you, his gaze both hungry and mischievous. You bite your lip, breath stuttering as you furrow your brow against that final ascent.

And then the tension finally snaps and your head tips back as you tumble off the edge and into your climax, your free fall as decadent and shiver-inducing as the beautifully slow buildup.

You don’t manage to gasp his name because the concept of words has fled you entirely and the only sound that escapes your lips is a sharp cry. From the glint in his eye and the low groan of approval offered against your clit, Loki doesn’t seem to mind at all.

The aftershocks roll through you in rippling waves that make your toes curl and it takes you a moment to catch your breath.

“I confess, I’m quite tempted to stay here all night,” says Loki, placing a gentle kiss on your clit. “You have the sweetest cunt.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you say, your words slurred with pleasure.

“Hardly.” He licks you very slowly from your entrance to your clit and you sigh, running your fingers through his hair. He repeats the same circuit twice more.

“In fact,” he murmurs, placing another kiss on your clit, “I think I may need another taste.” Another lingering kiss, his tongue teasing your entrance. You suck in a shuddering breath.

“One more.” Another long stroke of his tongue and you shiver again.

“Darling, I’m so sorry—” a quick kiss to your clit, “—but I think I’m going to have to make you come again. I'm simply famished.”

Your back arches and you moan as his mouth once again envelopes your clit and his fingers slide back inside you, curling into that soft, sweet spot. You’re a little sensitive, but he’s moving with such achingly perfect precision that you can already feel another orgasm starting to build in your hips.

The ascent is much quicker this time, and you soon find yourself whimpering and panting, your hands tangling again in his hair. He groans against you and you swear you feel the vibrations shimmer all along your aching core.

“Please,” you moan. “Please. I’m so close. Please.”

He lets you ride the edge for a little bit longer, despite your pleas and your iron grip on his hair. But after a minute or so, he seems to take pity on you and he increases his pace just slightly. Your orgasm blossoms in your hips, your cunt clamping down on his fingers as you moan his name to the ceiling.

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs a moment later, as his fingers coax you through the aftershocks. He looks you over, licking his lips. “You’re gorgeous like this, you know,” he says, eyes dragging greedily over your body. “Naked and utterly fucked out. Perfection.”

You shiver and slowly convince your loose muscles to allow you to sit up. “I don’t think you can say I’m fucked out if you haven’t actually fucked me.”

His eyebrow arches, “Is that so?”

You scoot to the edge of the bed so that you can run your hands over his firm chest. You press a kiss just above his belly button, tongue flicking out briefly against his skin. “Seems reasonable to me.”

“Do you want me to fuck you, Agent?” he says, his voice dropping low.

“I mean, that’s what I was hinting at, yes,” you say.

His eyes are hooded as he gives you a sly, calculating smile. “But do you deserve to be fucked, Agent?”

Feeling a little bold, you place your palm flat against the substantial bulge in his boxer briefs, running your hand along the hard, thick length of him. Fuck, he’s big. “Yes,” you say.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he says, his expression and voice deliciously stern despite your hand on his cock. “You’ve been quite pert. Disobedient. Mouthy.”

You think you have an idea where this is going. “So am I getting punished or begging for you to forgive me?” you ask with a coy smile.

The hunger and delight in his gaze makes you ache. “Let’s see what your smart mouth can do to my cock and maybe then I’ll consider fucking you.”

You lick your lips and trace your fingertips along the sharp lines of his Adonis belt, pausing at the waistband of his boxer briefs. You hook your fingertips under the elastic and pull them down.

His cock springs free as the fabric falls to the floor. Between sitting on his lap and the unsubtle nature of the boxer briefs, you knew he was long and thick, but you’re still not fully prepared to experience the full effect of seeing his cock be hard and ready for you.

“Fuck,” you breathe. You take a moment to admire him, despite the fact that you know it’s likely only inflating his ego. 

“Do you want me, Agent?” he drawls with a lazy smile. “Do you want my cock?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” you say. “In fact, I’m certain you do.”

“Perhaps I like hearing you say it,” he says, bringing one hand up to stroke your cheek. “Would that be such a terrible thing?”

Impulsively, you get to your feet and pull him into a kiss. You can still taste yourself on him—salty and a little sweet.

“You like hearing me talk about how I want you?” you say, pressing your hips against his.

“Very much.” His voice is a low purr and you shiver in his arms.

“I’m aching for you to fill me,” you murmur, leaning in to kiss him. “I’m dripping just thinking about it.” You nip at his lower lip and he groans against your mouth. “But first, I want to get on my knees and worship your perfect cock with my mouth.”

There's a low, pleased rumble deep in his chest and you shiver as you draw away. “Sit down.”

He sits down on the foot of the bed and you position yourself in front of him, standing between his spread thighs and lowering yourself to your knees. You run your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your fingernails along his skin, enjoying the slight hitch in his breath. You kiss the inside of his left knee and slowly make your way up the inside of his left thigh, dragging your tongue along his skin every so often. You continue this all the way up to the crease where his thigh meets his hip, close enough that he can feel the heat of your breath on his beautiful cock.

And then you lean back and begin the same process again on his right leg.

“What,” he says, his voice going deep and dark, “did I say about playing games, Agent?”

You tilt your head to look up at him. He’s staring down at you with a stern look that makes your cunt clench.

“You know, I came so hard earlier, I can’t quite recall,” you say, making your eyes as wide and innocent as you can.

“And if you want to come again tonight, you’ll find a way to remember,” he says. He’s stern and authoritative, and it’s ridiculously hot. “Now put that smart mouth to work on my cock,” he growls.

“Yes, sir.” The phrase just sort of slips out, but the way it makes your cunt ache and his eyes glitter is absolutely delicious.

“Oh, I like those manners, pet,” he purrs. “I want to hear more of that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say, pausing to lick your lips, “sir.”

“Good girl.”

His cock is flushed and so hard it presses up against his stomach. You wrap one hand around his shaft and you suck in a breath when your fingers don’t quite meet. He’s huge and the thought of having him inside of you makes you shiver and ache in anticipation.

You stroke him once and lower your mouth to the tip of his cock, placing gentle, closed mouth kisses on it.

He tolerates this for about thirty seconds.

“Agent.” His voice is laced with warning. “I won’t warn you again.”

Your lips curl into a slight smile and you flick your tongue against the tip of his cock, savoring the sharp tang of his pre-come. His eyes glitter down at you, still watching, waiting for you to disobey him.

“Am I not allowed to savor this experience?” you ask, intentionally licking your lips.

“I would urge you to consider that only good girls get to come on my cock, darling,” he says, his voice going dark and deliciously stern. “Choose your next moves wisely.”

The reality is that you desperately want to come on his cock and you wouldn’t put it past him to deny you. So, you offer him a sly smirk before you slowly begin to lick the tip of his cock, gradually opening your lips and bringing him into your mouth.

He groans softly. “You just need a firm hand, don’t you?” he says as you begin to move your head, stroking his shaft in a slow rhythm. His fingers card through your hair as he leans back on one hand, allowing himself to relax a little. “Or perhaps it’s that you want my cock more than you want to be a brat.”

You look up at him and raise an eyebrow. He’s not wrong.

He laughs low in his throat. “Oh, I think I’m going to  have you taking my orders by the time the week is up.” He reaches out to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “You have such a needy little cunt and I rather think that will prove to be an advantage for me.”

Your instinct is to let out a low whine, but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You can’t fully stop yourself from reacting, though, and a soft whimper makes its way out of your lips.

He catches this and smirks. “You like being mouthy and talking back, but I think you also crave a little discipline. Being told what to do gets you off, doesn’t it?”

This time, you do whine and he smiles down at you, eyes hooded. “That works out rather nicely,” he says, his voice dropping deep, “because I quite enjoy giving orders.”

You shiver and he notices, running his fingers through your hair.

“Filthy girl,” he purrs. “We’re going to have so much fun together.” He watches you for a minute, eyes hooded, lips slightly parted. “You’re gorgeous like this, too, you know,” he says. “On your knees with my cock in your mouth like a good girl. I could watch this for hours.” You glance up at him and catch his lazy smile. “Though,” he continues, “I suspect you’ll also look gorgeous riding my cock. Or perhaps spread out and tied to the bed.”

This image is too much for you: a high pitched whine makes its way out of your throat before you can think better of it.

“Oh, you like that idea?” he says, not sounding very surprised at all. “You like the thought of being bound and completely at my mercy?”

Another embarrassing whine escapes you before you can stop it.

“We’ll have to explore that some time this week,” he says. “Though I am starting to develop a rather lengthy list of things I want to do to you.”

Fuck. You are caught between wanting him to keep talking and wanting him to shut up so you stop making such embarrassing noises.

Admittedly, the idea of making him feel so good that you render him speechless is also incredibly appealing.

You suck just a little harder, cheeks hollowing as you start running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, swirling it on the tip as you come up.

His eyebrows draw together, his lips parting slightly. “Fuck. That’s it.”

You pick up your pace just a little and he groans, his hand going to grip your hair.

“Yes—just like that.” His grip tightens on your hair. “If your cunt is even half as good as your mouth—fuck, yes, right there—I’m going to have a hard time leaving this room this week.”

You hum against his cock and he groans, his hips starting to rock toward your mouth. “Do you like this?” he asks, his voice husky. “Do you like being on your knees for me?”

You moan against his cock, sucking harder.

“You do, don’t you?” he says, his voice a little unsteady. “Barely an hour and you’re already such a slut for my cock.”

You moan again, bobbing your head up and down his length.

“Such a good girl,” he purrs. “A bit of a brat to start, but I think I’m going to have to reward you for this. Your mouth is too fucking good.”

Another moan slips past your lips. He groans and is quiet for a minute or two, his hips rocking toward you.

His breath is coming in shaky gasps now. “I’m close, love,” he says, his fingers flexing in your hair. “I’m going to spill myself in your pretty mouth and then I’m going to fuck you into the mattress.”

You can’t help but moan, which seems to spur him on. His lips part and you can almost feel how close he is.

He makes the most beautiful noise as he comes, a low groan that seems to reverberate in your cunt as he empties himself into your mouth. You swallow his release greedily as you continue stroking him, your head moving up and down his length.

You pull off of him slowly, licking your lips and you look up at him, your mouth curling into a smirk. “So, was that a proper enough apology for you?” you ask.

He growls low in his chest, eyes opening to look down at you. “You are still far too pert for your own good,” he says. “I suspect I’m going to have to put you over my knee at some point this week. You need discipline.”

You suck in a deep breath as your cunt clenches at the possibility.

“But right now, I need to fuck you.” He gestures to the bed. “Get up here. Now.”

You don’t need any encouragement to follow this command, but the way that he delivers the order and the way his green eyes get all steely is enough for more slickness to collect between your legs. You clamber to your feet, but before you can even try getting on the bed, he’s pulling you to him and flipping you onto your back. He rolls on top of you, caging you in with his body, his impossibly hard cock throbbing against your stomach.

He kisses you, tongue pressing into your mouth, hungry and claiming. “Do you want me inside you?” he purrs against your lips. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“I need you to fuck me,” you say, spreading your legs and tilting your pelvis up toward him. “I want you to claim me.”

His smile is sharp and he drags the tip of his cock along your cunt, coating himself in your slickness. “Still so fucking wet,” he growls.

“I told you I need you,” you murmur.

He lines himself up at your entrance and ever so slowly begins easing into you. He presses forward, inch by glorious inch, until his hips are flush against yours.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe. “You feel so good.”

He smiles and withdraws just an inch or two before pressing back in. You arch underneath him and let out a soft moan.

“How about that? Is that good?” he asks.

You moan and nod.

He repeats the action. “And this?”

You offer up another moan and he grins. He repeats the action again, clearly teasing you. “What about this one?”

“Loki, please—”

“What is it darling?”

You’re not quite sure if you want to kiss or slap that smirk right off his face.

“Please don’t stop, please—”

“Oh, you want me to keep doing this?” he says, his brow furrowing in mock confusion. “You should have said something.”

“Loki, please—”

He chuckles quietly and begins rocking his hips against yours in slow, shallow thrusts. You sigh and wrap your legs around his waist, meeting his mouth as he kisses you. You can tell he’s holding back, though.

“I’m not going to break,” you finally say, tilting your hips to rock with his. “I want more. I want you to fuck me.”

He kisses you hard and his thrusts lengthen and deepen, his pace increasing just a hair, and you cry out because he’s now hitting that soft, sweet spot and he feels even better.

“You’re taking me so well, darling,” he says. “This snug little cunt was made for my cock, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” you breathe, arching your back. “Fuck, that’s so good.”

He wraps those long fingers around your ankles and brings your legs up so that they are draped over his shoulders, your body folded in half. He thrusts again and his cock presses even deeper, rubbing against that tender spot inside you. His thumb finds your clit and you whimper. Pressure is starting to build in your hips again.

“You’re getting close already, aren’t you?” he rasps, grinning at you like a devil. “I can feel you starting to tremble.”

You keen, your cunt clenching around his steadily thrusting cock.

“Are you going to be a good girl and come on my cock?” he growls.

You nod, words somewhere beyond you.

“I want you to soak my cock,” he purrs. “Let it all out. Scream for me.”

You feel yourself poised on the edge. So close.

“Come for me, darling, that’s it, let go, come for me, let me feel that sweet cunt milk me dry…”

You arch your back as your orgasm blossoms and unfurls. The sound that falls from your lips is a high pitched keening that would be Loki’s name, except there’s no space for anything besides this incredible feeling, his cock inside you, and the weight of him on top of you.

“Oh there you go, that’s it,” he murmurs. “You have the tightest, most exquisite cunt. I could fuck you for days.”

You moan, shuddering in the final throes, your cunt spasming around his thick cock. He withdraws for a moment and you moan at the loss, but he quickly flips you onto your stomach and slides right back inside you.

From this angle, his cock thrusts even deeper, pressing more directly against your G-spot. A few strokes in and it becomes glaringly apparent to you that you’re going to come again.

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” he pants, thrusting hard into you. “I can feel you starting to tremble already.”

You moan into the comforter, arching your back so he hits that spot again.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he scolds, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest. “I want to hear every filthy little sound that you make. Every. Last. One.” He thrusts in time with those last three words and you moan.

“You love this, don’t you?” he growls, his hips thrusting hard. “You love me taking you from behind like a fucking animal.”

Your legs are shaking and you can feel your orgasm building. “Loki, I’m gonna come again,” you whimper.

“I know you are, sweet girl,” he growls. “I can feel your tight cunt trembling.” His free hand slides between your legs, fingers rolling over your clit in the same rhythm as his thrusting cock.

Your breath stutters and a low whine escapes your lips. You are deliciously close.

“Please.” Your voice is barely a gasp. You’re riding the very edge of that wave and it feels so good that you’re almost certain the oncoming climax couldn’t possibly feel better. Almost.

“Oh, you’re almost there, love, you can do it,” says Loki, his hand still moving with his hips. “You just need to let go.”

You whimper. You are almost there.

“Be my good girl and let go for me,” he rasps. “Come for me.”

It breaks quite suddenly, your whole body shuddering and your cunt clamping down hard on his cock as you come. The noise you make is animalistic, torn from somewhere deep in your chest.

“Fuck!” Loki is fucking you hard, hips pistoning against your ass. “So fucking tight, you’re like a vise when you come, fuck—” His speech gives way into either Asgardian or Old Norse—you’re not quite sure which, but the idea that you’ve made him feel good enough to abandon English is incredibly appealing.

You’re dreamily floating back down from your high when you hear him make that beautiful noise again, that low, deep groan that falls from his lips only when he comes. You feel his release flood your cunt, hot and thick, as his hips finally start to slow.

It’s another minute or two before he rolls off you, flopping down next to you on the bed. Before you even have a moment to miss him or the comforting weight of his body on yours, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close.

You both lie there for a long moment, catching your breath.

You think back to your initial meeting with Fury, when you complained about being sent in with Loki. You’ve never been more pleased to be wrong in your entire life.

“So,” you say once you feel capable of speech, “you said you had some ideas for the rest of the week?”

If you thought his grin was devilish before, it’s nothing compared to what he looks like now as he pulls you on top of him.

“Darling,” he says, his voice dropping an octave. “I thought you’d never ask.”

[tinybrooms]

Our Last Day, or maybe the first?.. - Thomas Hewitt x fem. Reader

Summary: Is Thomas last day on the slaughterhouse and a pretty girl is going to help him today...or forever

Warning: Murders, Workplace Harassmen, hard vocabulary

NOTE: This is my second one shot and it's pretty long, maybe i am thinking about a second part so let me know if you want that, hope you like it, comments and feed back is always welcome.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

A few months had passed since your work at the slaughterhouse had started, you were one of the few people who had been able to access education and that had given you the opportunity to work as the supervisor's secretary.

Your days were longer than normal dealing with the male staff who looked at your body with desire and said rude comments every time you passed beside them, as did your boss who took the opportunity a couple of times to touch your ass "by accident'' and called you to his office for useless tasks that ended with indecent comments.

They were all idiots, all except Thomas, he just dedicated himself to his work and every time you said "good morning" he responded with a slight grunt while bowing his head a little, always a gentleman like his mama taught him.

-I see you're already packing - your supervisor looked at you from the door frame while you put your things in a cardboard box.

-Yes, I'm almost done - you looked at him smiling kindly trying to ignore the uncomfortable look he had on your butt that was visible in your pencil skirt.

-Leave that there for a moment, I need you to go down and tell Thomas that he has to go, the animal is still cutting meat and doesn't want to go home - the old man took off his glasses, wiping them on his shirt regardless of the worried expression on your face.

-Do I… should I go? sir, I think the best thing would be…

-It's an order, you still work here, that's why I didn't want to hire women, they're always so useless- the disgusting man laughed mockingly as he walked to his office - get off your ass and get down right now

Your gaze quickly fixed on the large window of what was your place from where you could clearly see Thomas hitting the pieces of meat with his sharp knife making a sound against the wooden table, it took you a few seconds to take a breath and pass saliva to get down, the aroma of raw meat disgusted you too much, just like the blood spread all over the place, that was what bothered you more than anything else.

-Hello..Hello Thomas - you smiled behind his back while your hands played nervously in front of you - well, I think they had already informed you that the slaughterhouse is going to close today and..- you sighed, adjusting your cat-eye glasses on your nose sighing holding on not to get dizzy with the intense aroma of meat - and well you must go home

Thomas paused a little but after a few seconds he hit the flesh again with such force that he made you jump on your heels.

-Thomas…please don't make this more difficult, I don't want them to come down and scold you like they always do- Your voice lowered a little, almost in a whisper, trying not to let your supervisor hear you and get you both in trouble, but Thomas just continued ignoring your advice

-Don't you listen to what she said you damn animal? You won't work here anymore, go home with your stupid family - your supervisor came down the stairs, standing halfway screaming in the distance, making the huge man turn around with his knife in his hand, squeezing it so hard that his knuckles seemed like they would break the skin from his hand

Your eyes looked with at the man with glasses and then at Thomas with fear that something would happen, after all you were in the middle and the tension of both collided with your small and fragile body, that was when your poor gaze weakened between you in the dark and humid environment, you could notice how Thomas's hand was shaking and his breathing was agitated making his chest rise and fall.

-Thomas..please - with fear your hand extended making the giant barely look at you through his long locks of hair - no…it's not worth it - with fear you took his hand, it was the first time Thomas felt the skin of a woman against his and despite the anger he felt, his breathing was not still agitated because of it, but because of the delicate way your skin felt against his - give me that, I'll put it here okay? -You looked at him slowly taking the knife, placing it on the table and you smiled shyly walking away a few steps slowly so that he wouldn't feel threatened.

-That's it damn idiot, I bet you've never felt that before, huh?, You'll get so hard with this bitch that you'll forget why you came here- The disgusting old man laughed as he returned to his office, leaving the two of you alone, tense and nervous.

Thomas just looked at the floor shyly, he knew he was right, no one had ever touched him even by accident and that made him feel vulnerable.

-It's okay Thomas, don't worry about what he says go home, I hope you and your family are okay - you smiled at him again, turning around in a hurry, almost running to the bathroom, you could feel a knot in your stomach because of all the vices and meat that were scattered on the tables, crossing the long corridor in a hurry until you reached the bathroom where as soon as you opened the door you vomited.

Your knees on the cold floor and your hands holding your own hair made it impossible for you to hear what was happening outside, retching made your eyes water and after a few minutes with shaky legs you stood up wiping your lips with the front of your hand.

You took a little longer looking at yourself in the mirror, fixing the lipstick that had been ruined with your fingers and carefully washing your hands, always taking care of your image as mom had taught you since you were a girl.

After that you went to your desk putting away the few things that were left, a couple of photographs and your notebooks with notes that maybe would no longer work at all but you still wanted to keep them, after all they were from your first job so with the box of cardboard full of your belongings under your arm you prepared to go say goodbye to your boss.

-I'm done sir, is there anything I can do… -your feet stopped dead looking at the completely destroyed office, the desk was broken in half and there we re objects thrown all over the place- sir? - You walked in fear towards what looked like a pair of destroyed legs under the wood of the table and as soon as you got closer you could notice the old man lying in a pool of blood with his head shattered.

The box under your arm slid hard, making it sound on the floor as it fell while your hands covered your face and a loud scream came from your throat and you took steps backwards trying to get out of the traumatic scene until your back collided with a firm figure making you spin fast.

There was Thomas, looking at you with his strong breathing and his dark eyes like you had never seen before while he held a chainsaw in his hand.

-Thom..Thomas-you looked at him scared, walking back again in fear looking at his hand-leave…leave that, leave it on the floor

Only a growl came out of his throat, answering you firmly and confusedly, but it was definitely a refusal to your request.

-Please…don't hurt me, I won't say anything, I promise -your wet eyes and your heavy breathing made him doubt, of course you were going to say something, but in the same way he didn't want to hurt you, you were always kind to him, you were the only person who noticed him when he arrived and who received him every morning wishing him a good day.

Your eyes and his were staring at each other, as if either of you were waiting for a movement from the other to attack or to scream, whoever acted first was going to react to the other, but the sound of a car interrupted making both of you look towards the front door which after a few seconds opened and they both could notice Officer Hoyt entering with the gun in his hand.

-It's the police…- you looked at him again, curious as to how they could find out about the crime - Thomas, they are going to arrest you, if they find you they will take you with them.

The big man looked at the floor confused, realizing what he had done and a fear began to grow in him, not knowing what to do to remedy the mistake he had made.

-Come with me - you approached with fear, careful not to make any movement that would make him believe that you were going to attack him or that you were going to run away and again your hand held his so delicately that once again Thomas felt special - I will get you out of here

You hurriedly pulled his hand, his huge body almost following you, looking behind you in fear of being discovered, but at the same time in his mind he kept having that curiosity about how you had decided to help him after what he did, he was a murderer and what he had done was wrong

-Come, here there is a door through which we entered, it is far from the main door, no one will notice - you looked at him to make sure that he remained calm and after a few minutes walking you let go of his hand to push the door with both hands and help him escape - no one will find you if you get home quickly

Thomas shook his head, approaching you again but this time extending his hand, offering it to you while his head remained down and his eyes avoided looking at yours.

-Do you…do you want me to go with you? -You looked at him curiously with a little fear and he just slowly shook his hand indicating that he wanted you to take it so you carefully approached taking his hand, following his step when he began to walk without bothering his chainsaw in the other hand

The road was silent at first, just the two of you both walking along the side of the road under the strong Texas sun, at no time letting go of the other's hand, which in the same way if you wanted to you couldn't do it, his hand was huge and strong making Yours will be hidden between his thick fingers.

-And…is anyone from your family at home right now? -You looked at him curiously, feeling stupid knowing that he wouldn't answer you but he just nodded with his head without taking his eyes off the front-Oh really?…is…your mother?

He denied and you continued asking trying to guess who was home, feeling stupid and insistent.

-Well, your uncle? -You looked at him, sighing in relief when he nodded, looking at you with a touch of innocence that was difficult for you to believe after knowing that he had ended your boss's life - oh really? That's good…I'm alone you know, my mom moved to Austin a week ago and I told her I would go with her as soon as I finished my work.

Thomas looked at you stopping his pace, his gaze was the same as always but his eyebrows furrowed with some sadness making you also look at him without knowing what was happening.

-Something happens? I said something wrong? Thomas, sorry, I didn't want to…- your free hand barely moved on your chest, trying to make him understand that you were sorry from the bottom of your heart, but he barely grunted denied and leaving your hand, his finger carefully touched the center of your chest and then touched himself pointing at him - you?…I don't understand

He again pointed at you and then at him almost desperately as if he wanted to let you know what he wanted to say but his words did not come out and your little understanding of him was almost impossible.

-You…do you want…me?…Do you want me to stay…with you? - Thomas nodded, taking your hand again walking without waiting for you to take a step, making you stumble - but, I can't…

His hand gave a strong squeeze to yours making you moan a little in surprise, an action that made him feel something strange, that was also something new that he had heard from a girl,

-I really would like to stay but I have to go with my mother- your eyes kept looking at the road trying not to trip again but then you fixed them on him when you didn't hear any grunt from him, at this point you had already understood that this was his way of communicating.

But the road became even quieter, only your footsteps could be heard on the asphalt and from time to time a sigh came out of your mouth due to the suffocating heat you felt on your forehead.

It was a couple of meters ahead when again the sound of a car behind you made you turn your head, feeling relief but worried when you noticed the police car stopping in the middle of the road.

-Hands up son, stay away from that poor girl - Officer Hoyt pointed at Thomas, cutting the cartridge from his gun.

Thomas knew what that sound meant, he had heard it many times when he saw Charlie and Monty hunting, so with his hand he pushed you a little away from him worried that something bad could happen to you.

It was your time to run away, you could run and get away until you lost sight of them but something made you stay there, watching as the policeman pointed his gun at Thomas and honestly inside you just felt scared that something could happen to him.

-Sir, he didn't do anything wrong to me, we were just walking…- you looked at him trying to fix the situation, believing that that would be enough for him to leave.

-I saw what he did in the slaughterhouse sweetheart, you should not protect this damn animal- Hoyt looked at you for a second to return his attention to the big man in front of him. -You murdered a man ya’know, you will go to prison for what ya’did

You could feel your breathing really hard, nervous and afraid that a bullet could come out and hurt Thomas, after all yes, he murdered a man but he did it to defend himself after all the bad things that they had been done to him and in the same way , it was not such an exemplary man who died, so it had not been a great loss

-We have a problem, sheriff - your attention quickly focused on an elderly man who was holding a shotgun and shot without thinking killing the officer, again your hands covered your face while you screamed in fear.

-Calm down your little girlfriend, Thomas - the man laughed, approaching the body and a pair of hands held your shoulders delicately, making your hands lower in fear, looking at the giant in front of you.

-I want this to stop, I don't want to see any more people die - you looked at him crying with fear - I don't want to be next, I've only been good to you, please don't hurt me.

-No one will hurt you darling- the old man laughed as he placed the sheriff's hat over his cap - This is the girl who's been making you hard for months uh Tommy? She is very pretty, of course we won't do anything bad to her right?

The fear inside you grew more and more, this man was even more disgusting than your boss was and it seemed that like Thomas, he had the idea that from today you would be part of the family and you would stay with them forever

Thomas looked at the man next to him, giving him a growl and standing in front of you looking at him threateningly.

-What? you're in love? - his laugh was louder this time - okay, I won't say anything to your little doll, now come here and put the sheriff in the trunk before he stink.

Thomas took a couple of steps and effortlessly took the officer's lifeless body and placed it in the trunk without difficulty, all in front of your disbelieving eyes.

-Come on honey get in the car, we have to go home with mama after all she has to meet her new girl

--------------------------------------------------------

Thanks for reading

Part 2 here!

[queenshelby]

The Slave (Part 3)

PAIRING: TOMMY SHELBY X VIRGIN READER

WARNING: NON-CON, CAPTURED READER, SLAVE READER, TOMMY GETTING OFF ON PAIN

NOTE: AGAIN THIS WAS A REQUEST AND I FELT A LITTLE UNCOMFORTABLE PUBLISHING IT...VERY DARK!

In the end though, after a torturous week, you did escape. During one of Thomas' business trips, you snuck out of the opulent mansion and ran as fast and far as you could, without looking back, without knowing where you were going. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, fueling your weary limbs with strength and determination.

You couldn't believe it when you finally found refuge but the peace and quiet in your life was short lived when, after as little a five days, he found you.

Thomas Shelby, with his piercing blue eyes and sharp features, was relentless and refused to let go of his property.

"Get into the fucking car," he roared, his voice booming like thunder through the quiet streets of London as one of his paid police officers had given up your location, 

Fear gripped your heart like a vice, your legs turning to jelly as you took off running once again. You wanted to scream, to plead with him to leave you alone, but the words got stuck in your throat.

Your lungs burned and your chest ached as you desperately tried to put some distance between you and your pursuer.

But it was no use. Thomas Shelby was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted, and he wasn't about to let you slip through his fingers.

As he tackled you to the ground, you could feel the breath being knocked out of your lungs. He pinned your arms behind your back, his breath hot and heavy against your neck as he whispered filthy, degrading things in your ear.

"You belong to me whether you like it or not," he growled. "You think you can escape from me? I own you." Thomas' grip tightened around your wrists, causing you to yelp in pain as he dragged you into his car.

You struggled in vain, your kicks and punches proving futile against his strength and determination and within hours, you found yourself locked up in an even less favorable place than before.

Like an animal, he had chained you to a wall inside the confides of Arrow House. Only a mattress on the floor, accompanied by a bucket of water were available to you now until you had learned your place.

As time passed, you slowly realized that you were stuck and with the tight ropes wrapped around your wrists you could no longer resist as the seasoned gangster made every effort to break down your inhibitions.

"Now look at you, eh," Tommy said as, a few hours after he had captured you again, he entered the room where you were curled up, naked, on the dirty mattress on the floor.

You were still handcuffed, your wrists raw and sore from struggling against your bindings. You looked up at him with terrified eyes, tears streaming down your cheeks.

He strode across the room and knelt down in front of you, his smoky scent engulfing you as he placed a hand on your thigh. 

"You think you can escape me?" Tommy sneered, tracing a finger up your inner thigh. You whimpered, trying to pull away from his touch, but he only gripped you tighter, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. "You belong to me now, Love. There's no going back."

With those words, he forced himself upon you, his rough hands grasping at your delicate body as he pulled you on to your knees.

"And I think that, perhaps, you still need to learn your place, eh?" Thomas smirked, as the cruel glint in his eyes sharpened as he pushed your head down.

"Now tell me, who is your master Love? Tell me, who do you serve?" he asked again, tightening his grip on your hair. "Say it, Love. Tell me who your master is."

"You, sir," you replied softly, on the brink of tears.

"What was that? I can't hear you. Speak up," he demanded, his voice brutal and commanding.

"You sir," you choked out, your voice trembling as tears streamed down your cheeks. "You are my master."

He gave a twisted kind of smile. "Good girl," he murmured, releasing his hold on your hair.

"Now lick my shoes and beg for forgiveness for your disobedience," he commanded, his voice dripping with malice.

Your heart sank as you realized just how low he would make you stoop. 

"No," you protested, shaking your head as you tried to pull back.

"No, don't touch me," you cried, your voice pleading and desperate, but he paid no heed. Instead, he grabbed your hair, pulling your head back so you had to look at him.

"Do it," he growled lowly, his eyes burning with a dangerous fire that made you flinch.

"No!" you protested, struggling against him. "Get off me!"

But Thomas was too strong. He pushed you down onto the bed before spinning you around, flipping you over on to your stomach.

"Fine, have it your fucking way then," he snarled before attaching your bound wrists to one of the anker points in the wall. "You'll understand soon enough, Love, that this is how things work in my world."

With that, he abruptly pulled you onto your hands and knees, the cold hardwood floor biting into the skin of your kneecaps. You winced in pain but didn't dare make a sound. After all, you knew exactly what kind of person you now belonged to.

"Keep still," Thomas commanded in a hushed tone before running his hands roughly over your hips, squeezing and bruising your delicate flesh.

He then unbuckled his belt and removed it from his pants, folding it in half and taking a step back from you. You flinched instinctively, anticipating the pain that was about to be inflicted upon you.

Thomas brought the belt down with a loud crack, its impact sending a sharp pain shooting through your buttocks. You cried out, tears springing unbidden to your eyes, but he didn't stop there. He continued to lay into your flesh, the sound of leather against skin echoing around the room, punctuated by your cries of pain.

Each strike left another welt on your ass and thighs, your skin rapidly becoming a canvas of crimson marks.

When he finally stopped, your whole body shaking and sobbing, you felt him kneel down behind you. His hands gently stroked your heated skin, tracing the lines of pain he had inflicted.

"Ssssh, there now," he murmured softly, his voice almost soothing in its intensity. "Are you going to obey me now or am I going to have to belt that sweet little cunt of yours as well?"  Thomas' voice was a husky whisper, his fingers brushing against your sensitive folds.

Your heart was hammering in your chest, but you knew better than to argue with him, especially when he was in this kind of mood.

"Y-yes, sir," you squeaked out, your voice shaking with fear and anticipation.

Thomas gave you a cruel smile as he stood up and took a step back. His eyes were glued to your exposed body, his gaze searing a path from your battered ass to the pink petals between your thighs.

"Good girl," he said before taking position in front of you. "Now, you will lick my shoes and beg me for forgiveness and then I will give you a good hard fucking, just as you deserve." Thomas sneered, that familiar glint in his eyes.

You knew better than to argue so, with tears streaming down your face, you began to lick and kiss his shoes. Each swipe of your tongue was filled with resentment and hatred for the man standing above you. Soon, your saliva coated the leather as you pleaded for his mercy.

He watched you with a sadistic grin, seemingly enjoying every moment of your degradation.

Thomas leaned back against the bureau and undid the button of his trousers. His erection sprung free, long and hard, as he began to stroke it once you had finished licking his shoes.

"You are mine now. Mine to do as I please whenever I want. You will learn to love this life, or at the very least, you'll learn to play your part."

He stepped closer, his manhood brushing against your cheek.

"Open up and let me in, little one," he commanded. "I know you're hungry for it."

You hesitated for a moment, but the fear and disgust warring within you were easily swept away by the desire to please him. To survive.

You parted your lips, allowing him to guide his cock between them. The taste was foreign and slightly repulsive, but you swallowed hard and began to suck.

Thomas sighed in pleasure, his fingers weaving through your hair as he held you in place. He controlled the pace, sometimes slow and gentle, other times hard and fast.

His free hand fondled your breasts, tugging and pinching at your nipples until they were aching and sensitive. You whimpered and moaned softly around him, your own hands clenching into fists at your sides as you fought to maintain control.

"That's it, Love," Thomas groaned, thrusting shallowly into your throat. "Just like that... take it all in."

His fingers tightened in your hair, tugging harshly as his hips began to shift back and forth, setting a hot, punishing rhythm in which your mouth was expected to follow.

Your eyes watered at the force, but you dared not pull away or try to stop him; you'd learned quickly enough that your obedience was non-negotiable.

He pushed further into your throat, the tip of his shaft hitting the back of it as he began to moan, his fingers tugging harder on your sensitive scalp.

Saliva dripped from your chin as you struggled to breathe around him, coughing and spluttering slightly as he relentlessly thrust into your mouth.

Thomas' thrusts became more erratic, the head of his cock sliding against your tongue repeatedly. His free hand gripped your shoulder, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pushed himself as deep as he could.

You gagged, tears streaming down your face, but he didn't seem to care. He continued to thrust into your mouth, his hips jerking violently as he reached his climax.

"Right down the hatch, eh," he groaned as his warm and sticky cum shot into the back of your throat, causing you to swallow convulsively, trying to keep back the bile that rose in your throat.

Thomas eventually pulled out, his cock softening in front of your swollen and bruised lips.

You sighed in relief, your body shuddering as you fought to catch your breath. It tasted foul, but you knew better than to protest; the consequences would surely be far worse.

Thomas stroked himself a few more times, admiring his own erection before shifting back into position behind you.

"Wider," he grunted, forcing your legs apart with his knees. You bit back a whimper as he settled himself between your thighs, the tip of his shaft pressing against your entrance.

"That's a good girl." Thomas patted your bottom approvingly. "Such a good little whore."

He pushed inside you, and you cried out at the intense pain, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Look at this swollen red cunt of yours," Thomas muttered, pleased with what he saw. "You're mine now. I'm going to make you scream until you can't scream anymore."

You tried to move away, but his grip on your hips was too tight. He thrust deeper, causing you to howl in pain. Thomas savored the feeling, savoring the control he had over you.

"Please stop," you pleaded, but Thomas was relentless, merciless in his pursuit.

He kept thrusting deeper, harder, his fingers digging into your hips as he claimed you. Each move sent a sharp pain shooting through your body, one that you couldn't ignore.

"What's the matter, Love?" Thomas taunted, his voice thick with lust. "Can't take it?" He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. "You're going to take it, you're going to take all of me."

You whimpered as he continued to plunge into you, his movements becoming more urgent, more primal.

"Please pull out," you begged, tears streaming down your cheeks as his cock scraped against the abused walls of your pussy.

"You want me to pull out?” Thomas sneered, his lips curling into a cruel smile. "Alright then, I will pull out and stick it up your arse instead, eh?" Thomas grunted, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled out of your pussy and teased the entrance of your backside.

"There, does that feel better, Love?" he taunted, pressing against your tight hole.

"No, please! Don't do this!" you begged, your voice shaking as you started sobbing uncontrollably. 

"Ssh, don't fight it, Love." Thomas whispered as he forcefully pushed past the tight ring of muscle that guarded your backside. You screamed in agony, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to pull away.

"Ah fuck yes," Thomas hissed, his voice thick with lust as he forced himself deeper inside of you. "I knew you'd like it rough."

"No, stop," you cried, your voice hoarse from screaming. But Thomas only laughed in response.

"Come on, Love. You know you like it," he sneered, grinding himself deeper into you.

The pain was unbearable, but you knew that fighting him would only make things worse. So you lay there, limp and sobbing, as Thomas took his pleasure from you.

"Your arse is so fucking tight," he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic.

"My cock barely fits inside," he bit out, gripping your hips tightly before lifting you up a little in order to fuck you harder.

"This ass was made for me, for taking my cock," Tommy told you, his voice almost guttural as he dug his fingers into your soft flesh, bruising you as he fucked you relentlessly with nothing stopping him, certainly not your tearful sobs and pleas.

"And I am going to fill it up with my cum now, eh?"

Tommy grunted, reaching around to fist your hair with one hand while the other continued to molest your breast.

"Shall I paint your insides with my seed, Love?" he asked, thrusting mercilessly into you, causing you to whimper in pain.

You felt your body being pushed to its limits as Tommy rammed his cock deep inside of you, again and again, totally ignoring the tears streaming down your face and the sobs you struggled to suppress.

The excruciating pain in your anus threatened to consume your entire being, and the sensation of him ripping through you was unbearable.

However, you knew that you had no choice but to endure it - Tommy had made it clear that your life as his sex slave would be filled with this kind of suffering.

"Goddammit Love," Thomas muttered, his thrusts faltering as he felt his orgasm building deep within him. "You're so fucking tight."

Then without warning, his grip on your hips tightened viciously and he buried himself deep inside of you, crying out loudly as he came, filling you up with his hot and sticky semen.

You gasped as he jerked inside of you, the feeling of his release overwhelming you. But even as he emptied himself into your body, Thomas showed no signs of tenderness or consideration.

As soon as he caught his breath, he withdrew from you with a grunt, leaving you feeling sore and violated.

Despite the pain, not a single word of protest escaped your lips. Instead, you bit back a whimper, trembling uncontrollably as you tried to hold yourself together. But as his semen dripped down your thighs, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of despair wash over you.

Tommy had bought you as a sex slave, but the reality of your situation was far more brutal than you could have ever imagined. You were his now and you had no way of escaping again.

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2024-01-10

Main

Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Seasonal

Sir Thomas Sharpe x Reader: Winter Edition

See Also: Navigation || Private T.B.R.

[lady-rose-moon]

Look at you, so desperate || Thomas || 18+ || Kinktober 2022 ||

Part of my Kinktober Masterlist that you can find ~here~

My main Masterlist can be found ~~here~~

Summary:

Warnings: creampie, p in v, smut, 18+ minors DNI!

After exploring all of Allerdale Hall alone, you decided to make a trip upstairs to meet your husband in the attic. Lucille had moved out of the manor a week ago by the order of your husband. You were later told why she had left and it had taken you a couple of days to come to terms with what the two of them had been doing but you eventually came to and forgave him. He didn't want to harm you, that's why he sent Lucille away.

When you pushed open the door to the attic workshop, the scent of wood and fresh snow hit your nose and you smiled, watching as Thomas stood by an open window nursing a cup of tea. You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his middle, your head resting on his chest as you sighed happily.

"Fun day?" Thomas whispered, his head resting against yours as his eyes still scanned over the acres of land that surrounded Allerdale.

You shook your head and looked up at him with a pout on your lips. "It would be much better if you had joined me," you whispered, feeling his arms snake around your waist, "I wish you had come along."

"My many apologies, my darling," Thomas whispered tenderly, peppering kisses on your head as his arms tightened around your waist and he held you close to him, "are you lonely?"

His hoarse voice, filling with lust and need lit a fire in your body that you had pushed away since your wedding night. "Very, husband," you whispered, your hands resting on his chest as you faced him, his oceanic blues locked onto your eyes as he studied how much your body needed him, "please, I'm so lonely."

Thomas effortlessly lifted you into his arms and descended the stairs to the master bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him and throwing you onto the bed. He skillfully helped you out of your dress, kissing every bit of flesh that was exposed to him as you leaned your head back against the pillow and sighed happily.

Thomas's kisses littered across your body as he paid attention to all of you. Making sure that every little bit of you got attention. When you were fully bare for him, you smiled at him and got onto your knees, reaching forward and unbuttoning his loose shit, pulling off his suspenders and his shirt.

Once he was bare, you began to kiss his shoulder down to his clavicle, enjoying the sight of your husband sighing contentedly and shuffling to give you more access to his body. You didn't carry on for long, though, as you allowed him to lay you down on the bed and his hands began to caress down the softness of your skin.

"Beautiful," the Baronet whispered, his thumbs running over your perked nipples as you mewled beneath him. His hand descended to your glistening folds and the Baronet swore beneath his breath as two fingers plunged into the awaiting heat of your cunt.

You moaned aloud as his fingers curled inside you, stimulating your sensitive walls as he smirked down at you, his oceanic blues practically swimming with the lust he felt for you, for his wife.

"Sweet dove," his angelic voice, now laced with lust that ignited something in your stomach, "I shall make you scream."

You preened and eagerly settled your hands on his broad shoulders as he leaned down and sealed his lips to yours, his fingers leaving you but quickly returning to guide his cock into your awaiting folds. You moaned as he sunk inside you and you felt his cock twitch against your walls as he began to shallowly thrust in and out of you.

"Thomas!" you cried out as his thrusts began to increase in speed and your eyebrows pulled together as your thoughts became consumed by thoughts of him. "Fuck!" you cried out as he thrust sharply into you and you heard him moan above you.

The Baronet reached down and cupped your breast as his thrusts increased in speed, making your vision go white as you became consumed in the pleasure that you were being given from his glorious cock. You trembled as you felt the familiar tingling of your orgasm building up and your eyebrows pulled together as you gasped, your hands flying up to his hair.

Once Thomas realised that you were close to your end, he pulled out to the tip of his cock and you whined from the loss of stimulation. The man didn't wait forever, however, as he buried himself back between your folds and his speed returned, the throbbing of your orgasm returning to you as you cried out and twisted your fingers through his curls.

"Fuck, my love," he whispered, his brow becoming damp with sweat, bliss painted so perfectly over his features that you were surprised that he was human. He looked so good, he deserved to be a sculpted figure in all his naked glory so close to the edge of orgasmic release.

You tenderly caressed his cheek as his eyes opened to take you in properly, his thrusts slowly becoming out of sync as his orgasm crept closer, spurred on by every thrust of his cock into your demanding hole.

"Cum with me," you whispered, feeling the Baronet's cock twitch inside you at the sultry way you spoke.

Thomas nodded and his hand flew down to sharply circle your clit, his teeth biting down on the skin of your clavicle, bliss washing over him as he listened to you scream with pleasure and drop over the edge into ecstasy with him whining and releasing inside of you moments later.

Slowly, Thomas pulled out of you and watched the cum ooze out of your tired cunt and he pushed it back into you as his eyes met yours, a devious smirk on his lips, "none shall be wasted."

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

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65

[lulubelle814]

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 - Professor Tom Hiddleston x Olivia Lambert (coming soon)

Masterlist

[kentoberry]

BITTERSWEET — kamisato ayato.

pairings ⭒ crime boss ! ayato x f reader.

about ⭒ your husband, leader of the shuumatsuban crime syndicate, may be good at his job, but he’s been neglecting his poor wife.

content ⭒ [ 18+ ; minors do not interact ] ⭒ established relationship ⭒ very mild angst ⭒ mentions of violence (including vague allusions to murder) ⭒ light brat taming ⭒ pet names ⭒ dubcon in parts ⭒ gunplay ⭒ threats ⭒ degradation ⭒ name calling ⭒ p-ssy spanking ⭒ mentions of a mindbreak ⭒ dumbification ⭒ c-rvix kissing ⭒ creampie.

your husband always seemed to prioritize work over your relationship. take the untouched home-cooked meals that you had prepared for him, for example, now forming a small village of stacked tupperware boxes in the refrigerator. you would sit and look pretty during meetings with subordinates, like his perfect lap dog. the business bored you, yet you had picked up a couple of tricks here and there.

tuning back into the conversation midway, the topic concerning some issues with the transportations of unlawful goods. thoma, your husband’s right-hand man, made a point of how they should go about it, one that seemed fair. ayato must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed, for he was in disagreement. 

“but sir, i’m sure you understand why we can’t just-” thoma rambled in attempt to reason with the boss.

“you can, and you will.” ayato’s tone remained calm and collected, sharp gaze enough to strike fear into the hearts of everyone in the room. well, almost everyone - you were unfazed. though his hand rest on his signature white revolver on the table, you saw a perfect opportunity to gain the full attention of your lover.

“thoma is right, darling.”

his head snapped around to face you, indigo irises narrowing as he shot you a warning glare. you continued nonetheless: “don’t make a stupid decision.”

the room was silent enough that you could hear a pin drop. thoma was silently pleading with you to shut up, but you knew ayato would never do anything to actually harm you. plus, from the parts of the conversation that you had heard, your husband did seem to be acting rather rash. not even the clicking of his gun was enough to stop you from your last blow to his ego.

“you’re better than this.”

ayato saw red. he’d never expecting his darling to talk back to him in such manner, humiliating him in front of his people. 

“fine.” he kept it short and snappy, his piercing stare remaining trained on you. “thoma can handle it. everyone out.”

the shufflings of papers and rustling of bodies exiting the room couldn’t even distract him from you. your expression remained as aloof as ever, as if you were challenging the man, trying to coax a reaction from him (the latter of which was most definitely true). 

once the last person had exited and closed the door behind them, ayato chose to speak. 

“i knew it was only a matter of time before you forgot your place,” venom laced his words, making you feel like the leader of a rival syndicate rather than his devoted wife. he let out an exasperated sigh, indicating that he lacked the time for your bullshit. “being quiet never was your strong suit, was it?”

“aya-”

“no. i don’t care. whatever stupid reason you had, i’m sure i can make you forget it.”

ayato picked up his piece, as if measuring its weight in his large hand. the golden decals shone in the faint light, highlighting how pristine the white shade remained despite having been used on some… messy occasions. 

“strip.”

your eyes widened. his lackeys had only just left, surely they would overhear! there was no way you were going to be put in such a compromising, risky situation. your apparent ineptitude prompted ayato to grip a handful of your hair, forcing you to look at him. “you heard me. if you want to act like a brat, i’ll treat you like one.”

“i’m not going to-”

instead of using his words, ayato only used his free hand to direct the barrel of his gun into your mouth. just as intended, it indeed shut you up. he chuckled as drool began to pool in your mouth, only for him to force the weapon further back in your throat. “cat got your tongue?”

instead of taking his time to undress you, ayato settled for tearing on the neckline of your shirt until it split in two. he slipped you out of your bra with a single hand, the other keeping his gun in place. the man relented for a mere moment before clambering to get you sat on the table. 

“suck.” he commanded, returning the revolver to your lips. he was only met with your pleading eyes, imploring him not to do this. you were beginning to regret speaking up, but the slight glint in his eyes told you that you were in for a good time either way. 

ayato kept the barrel of his gun touching your lips as he collected a glob of spit together in his mouth. his height allowed for him to tower over you, giving him the perfect angle to carry out his next action. before you could so much as blink, ayato spat directly into your mouth. whether out of shock or anticipation, you made no move to swallow, instead awaiting instructions that never came. ayato forced his weapon back into your throat, its muzzle causing you to gag. you were filled with the fear that he could pull the trigger at any time, even though you knew he would never go that far. one quick “click!” and you’d be covering the table. 

“i said, suck.”

you did precisely as he bid, tongue swirling around the cool metal barrel and tracing over the decals. you looked up at your husband with wide eyes, as if begging for some degree of mercy. 

he watched your helpless maneuvers for but a moment before growing bored. ayato flipped the skirt you were wearing up, lithe fingers caressing your already prevalent arousal. 

“all this, just for me? hmm? does my nasty girl get off from having a loaded gun pointed at her?”

of course, you couldn’t respond. you could only whine, but even then the revolver muffled your sounds. ayato only continued to mock you, bullying you for being so wet when he hadn’t shown you so little as an ounce of kindness. he forced you to continue sucking on the metal whilst he stroked your drooling cunt over the fabric, barely offering any friction.

the pathetic noises that crawled out of your throat made you sound stupid. ayato didn’t have time for your sounds as he became increasingly desperate to break you enough and put you back into your place. surely a slap or two would help silence his mutt. his palm came into contact with lacey barrier keeping you from him, aim as perfect as ever. you let out a little shriek, not expecting the action. still, you could feel yourself growing both dumber and needier with each smack. your cunt throbbed, aching for more attention.

you were relieved at the unobstructed breath you took once ayato finally relented, barely noticing the saliva that spilled onto your chest. 

ayato dropped the gun back to the table. even if the thought crossed your mind to grab it and usurp your husband, he didn’t give you the time. whilst you were recovering from having your throat invaded with his weapon, ayato peeled your panties to the side. he cared not to undress himself, simply freeing his stiff cock from its confines. the man teased your puckering hole with the flushed tip of his length, eliciting a couple of wanton moans as your cunt made futile attempts to pull him in. 

“you might want to stay quiet, princess. i’m sure my men are still within close proximity to the room.”

and with that statement, he sunk himself into your sloppy heat. he bottomed out in a single thrust, not giving you a moment to adjust. your husband knew your body well enough to elicit the most sinful of sounds as he thrust into you, bulbous tip kissing your cervix. ayato brought himself closer to your ear just to whisper: “wouldn’t want someone to overhear now, would we? or do i need to put a gun to your head just to keep you quiet?”

already feeling a little dumb on his cock, even you didn’t anticipate the pretty little mewl that dripped from your lips at the threat. with a little “disgusting slut,” and a quick flick of his wrist, you found the cool barrel of his gun against your temple. ayato used the weapon to shift your hair out of the way, the metal contrasting the warmth of your skin. 

“’m sorry,” you whined, never breaking eye contact with the man. possessiveness coursed through his veins, proud that he could treat you so poorly yet you would still come running back to him, weak and docile. 

you chewed on your bottom lip in attempt to restrain your lewd moans, simply taking what ayato gave you at this point. he continued to plunge into your sloppy cunt, molding and stretching your cushiony walls into the perfect shape for him. you could feel every bump and curve of his cock, just as he could of your insides. ayato hit your sweet spots without fail, his length already twitching due to how well you sucked him in. 

“such a fucking whore, getting fucked like this,” ayato’s sentences grew less and less put together, hinting that he was nearing his peak. “want me to get thoma back in here, hmm? let my men watch you go dumb on my dick?” he punctuated each question with a tap to your cervix, forcibly enough that you were sure it’d bruise. “my pathetic slut, going to cum for me, bitch?" 

gentle nods were your only response, feeling the heat in your stomach building up rapidly. once again, he let a glob of spit fall onto you, this time directed to your cunt. ayato’s free hand snaked between your legs to toy with your swollen clit, massaging tight circles around the puffy nub. his ministrations furious enough to make you clench yet skilled enough to not cause any overwhelming pain. it was becoming increasingly difficult to support yourself, leaning slightly into the muzzle of the gun pressed against you for aid.

”be a good fucking girl and cum for me.“

the sparse hints of praise were a welcomed change, tipping you over the edge as ayato fucked you through your high. you tried your best to stay quiet, like he had asked, although a few gorgeous whines escaped their restraints.

the feeling of your heavenly cunt contracting around his cock was enough to push ayato to release too, shooting strings of his milky seed inside of you. heavy breaths filled the room for a moment, with him remaining sheathed inside of your heat. the man finally put down his gun, opting for pulling you closer to him.

the tender kiss he placed to your forehead communicated all that you needed to know: despite tonight’s events, he still loved and cared for you, and he appreciated how you allowed him to be rough with you, to use your body as a stress relief from the hectic life that he’d been born into. it acted as a reminder of every promise he’d ever made you, to protect you with his life no matter what.

your husband let you collapse into him, cock keeping your creamy cunt plugged with his cum whilst you calmed down. one hand interlaced his fingers with your own, large digits fiddling with the ring that he’d given to you all those years ago. he pledge to himself to be around you more, for he’d missed soft moments like this. you were his oasis amongst a life of unsteadiness and uncertainty, the only place where he could let his guard down. he whispered a gentle ”i love you,“ into your hair, walls collapsing as he held you tightly. he never failed to be amazed when you whispered a little ”love you too“ in response.

[muddyorbsblr]

the final Lady Sharpe part 1: across the threshold

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo

Summary: To say your first day in Allerdale Hall with your new husband Sir Thomas Sharpe was "eventful" would be a gross understatement. Downright absurd would be a better descriptor.

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Warnings: ghosts; Lucille; murder attempt via poisoning; mentions of the "relationship" between Lucille & Thomas; steamy moment between the newlyweds

Things to be aware of: Reader & Thomas are newlyweds

"Save yourself."

You stiffened in Thomas' arms as the soft spoken tone reached your ears, eyeing your new husband with rapidly increasing worry. "Did you hear that?" 

His eyes held a touch of concern, the smile he gave you -- while breathtaking as it always was -- not quite reaching his eyes as he gave you words of reassurance. "Must simply be the wind, darling. At times it blows so harshly through the piping of the house that it feels as if the halls themselves are whispering to you. It's ghastly, I know, but it's home." 

The words sounded perfectly crafted, as if practiced and corrected many times before, doing nothing to ease the tension that had spread throughout your body as he carried you across the threshold. You made a show of giving him a reassured smile, consciously widening your eyes in an attempt to convince him that you doubted no portion of his answer. "Just the wind," you said softly when he set you back down on your feet. 

"Just the wind," he echoed, placing his hat down on a nearby table before framing your face in large gloved hands and touching the tip of his cold nose to your own, the chill making you break out into a fit of giggles. "There's that sound I absolutely adore from you, my dear wife." Your giggles melded into a weakened sigh once he leaned in closer and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. 

"Ah. There you are," a stern voice spoke from the other side of the floor, the sound bouncing off the walls as footsteps struck against tile then hardwood, the figure of Lucille Sharpe, your new sister-in-law, striding towards you. "You're finally home." 

"Lucille," your husband breathed out, walking towards her and meeting his sister halfway and pulling her into a tight embrace. 

Something in the sight immediately put you off, as if you sensed an intimacy between them that crossed the lines of familial love. Namely the way that she wrapped long fingers around his upper arm and leaned against his shoulder with her eyes closed, as if she was pressing a kiss on the spot. 

"Welcome, Y/N," she finally spoke to you. "How have you been faring with the cold thus far?" 

"Quite different from what I'm accustomed to but I can get used to just about anything," you answered her with a warm smile, subtly tilting your head at how she'd shaped her fingers like claws and dug the tips into Thomas' arm before releasing him from her hold. 

"You're not imagining it. She abuses him. Makes him sleep with her," the same voice from earlier spoke. "Every night. He won't be laying with you later."

"Well you cannot possibly have adjusted so quickly. Why don't I fix us all some tea and, Thomas you can draw your bride a bath and start a fire? Give her a semblance of home to help her adjust a touch quicker?" The words seemed welcoming enough; her smile, however, made you wish to go back out into the biting winter cold instead. You might fare better against nature than against Lucille. 

"Truly, Lucille? Tea this early? We'd just gotten home, we've not had the chance to even begin to unpack our belongings." You began to eye your husband with the same suspicion now, narrowing your eyes at his question that seemed as if they were speaking of more than just 'tea'.

"It will help warm her up," she insisted. "All of us, really."

His sharp exhale filled the room, his arm reaching out towards you when you began to walk further into the house and wrapping around your shoulders. "Very well then." His tone towards her had grown more formal, dismissive even. "Shall I show you to our room, Lady Sharpe?" He gave you a warm smile, this time the kind that reached his eyes as you nodded your assent. 

A mixture of your giggles and his filled the house as he scooped you up into his arms once more and carried you up the stairs. 

You tried to suppress your blush as you were treated to the view of your husband busying himself in your bedroom, insisting you 'sit back and not worry a single hair on that pretty head' while he prepped the fireplace. Of course, who were you to refuse a comfortable room with a view, especially when said view came in the form of Thomas Sharpe, coats shrugged off and sleeves rolled up to his elbows starting a fire to keep you warm?

The orange light of the kindling fire began to wash over the room, already making you feel as if you could breathe easier as your husband gave you an adorably triumphant smile. "Oh my word," he breathed out, rising to his feet and slowly making his way to you. 

"What is it?" A warmth bloomed inside you, his fingertips lightly tracing your features with one hand while the other began to undo the bun in your hair. If only that warmth wasn't accompanied by the pit forming in your stomach as you remembered what that voice whispered in your ear downstairs. 

"You are breathtaking in this light, darling." He ran his fingers through your hair, touching your chin with his free hand and tilting your head upward as he leaned down to press his lips to yours. The feel of him groaning against your skin sent your heart into a frenzy and your stomach fluttering like a dozen butterflies had just taken residence inside.

Every touch of your lips seemed more frantic than the last, feeling yourself getting more and more lost in him. Almost to the point that you forgot where you were. In a gloomy creepy near-derelict mansion that was potentially filled with ghosts that were talking to you confirming your intuition about Lucille and your husband having a debauched relationship in a secret held within the decaying walls. And so far away from the city where if you were to meet an untimely demise it would take days, maybe even weeks, before anyone at home was informed of your passing.

All of that seemed to fade away while you stayed in his arms. 

"What if I drew us both a bath?" he murmured against your lips, giving you one more lingering kiss before pulling away, his expression darkened with such explicit lust that it had you struggling to breathe. 

"How scandalous," you teased, your breath  hitching in the back of your throat when you felt his fingers playing with the buttons securing the collar of your dress behind your neck. 

The corner of his mouth upturned in a smirk once he worked the buttons undone and his fingertips met the skin of your  neck, a whimper slipping from your lips as he slipped the piece of fabric off of you. "My darling, we are husband and wife." You bit your lips to muffle a moan when he leaned in to press a kiss to the newly exposed skin. "There is nothingscandalous about us sharing a bath, if you're willing." 

He continued to press kiss after kiss along the column of your neck, and you suddenly felt a heat spreading throughout your body that had nothing to do with the fire steadily crackling on a few feet away from you. "Well in that case, dear husband, I think that's a wonderful--"

The sharp sound of knuckles rapping on the door broke the heady spell you were under, both of you  suddenly standing upright, Thomas' arm now wrapped around you with his hand splayed on the side of your waist as he pulled you to his side. "Is everyone decent?" you heard Lucille's voice clear and piercing through the door.

"Decent enough," your husband called out, chuckling as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. 

"Thomas what on Earth could you possibly mean by--Oh…" The look on her face may as well have dropped to the ground when her eyes befell the sight before her. Your now exposed neck, hair flowing down your back, Thomas' own overcoat and waistcoat draped haphazardly over the tall armchair, shirt wrinkled from where your hands clutched at him from moments earlier, the first few buttons undone and exposing his defined chest. "Seems I interrupted a private moment." 

"Oh it's no trouble really--" you started just as Thomas said, "Yes, you did." 

You did what you could to stifle your smile, giving way to him continuing his sentiment instead. "I was just about to draw a bath for my wife. And myself." Once more you fought to keep your expression unchanged as her neck so visibly twitched at the lurid implications of his words. 

The voice from earlier was back. But she wasn't talking to you, rather she was talking to…another voice. You could barely make out names in the conversation. Edith. Enola. Talking about how Thomas was different with you, how he seemed to be protecting you almost. 

"I'm sure the bath can wait, dear husband," you said, plastering on a warm smile you strived to reach your eyes. 

"But I'm not quite sure that I can," he shot back with a chuckle, pulling you closer to him. 

"Come on, sweetheart, Lucille made us tea. It'd be a shame for it to go cold." You looked to him with wide eyes, seeing how his jaw clenched for a moment before he briefly narrowed his eyes at his sister. And she was looking to you with a conspiratorial smirk, as if she felt the satisfaction of finding in you some ally. But you knew that look for what it really was; you'd seen it enough times throughout your ventures in London.

It was the look of an assumed mastermind pleased to see that a pawn was carrying out a leg of a plan on their own volition. And thus playing into their own trap. Run, little mouse, run, her eyes seemed to say. Right into my snare. 

"You have your sensibilities about you, Y/N. I like you already." 

"I've been around London enough times to know how you get with your tea," you joked, your cheeks aching from the smile you were trying to keep up. It seemed worth the dull ache, though, with the single nod she gave you as she poured out the hot beverage in two of the cups on the tray. The third one, however, had already been filled. And that was the cup she held out to you.

"I wasn't sure how you preferred it, so I took a guess on somewhere between lukewarm and fresh off the kettle. I hope it is to your liking, my new sister." 

"You're very kind, Lucille. Thank you." You brought the cup up to your nose, taking in the aroma. "This…smells quite different from the teas I've had in London. What is it?" 

"Firethorn berries," your husband answered. "Lucille picks them out in the garden and crushes them herself." 

So cyanide, you thought to yourself, wondering if Thomas' omission of whether the crushed berries had been washed was intentional or simply an oversight on his part. They're trying to kill me. 

You could feel your heart sinking from the realization that you'd married in such a rush and now you were to face the consequences. Your rational mind screaming obscenities at you for being so foolish to fall for the words of an angelic face and a devilish voice, and another voice trying to scream louder that you had to think of something quick lest one of them shove the drink down your throat and start the poisonous process.

"Don't drink it! The poison is in the tea!" one of the voices screamed.

"She has to. Lucille will kill her if she doesn't," the first voice, the guiding voice, answered her. 

You took a breath, mustering all your confidence as you hoped that the wayward idea that flew through your mind in the last few moments would work convincingly enough. Raising the cup to your lips, the moderately hot liquid slipped past your lips, and you let it stay there a second before breaking out into a fit of coughs and spitting out majority of the drink, blindly looking for a place to set down the cup and doubling over and arching your back with each cough. 

"Y/N!" The cup was taken out of your hand, Thomas pulling you close to him, moving your hair out of your face and running his hand up and down your back, trying to calm the fit. "Darling what happened?"

"I'm not quite sure," you answered through heaving breaths, both of you having sunk to the floor on your knees in the midst of your show. You fought against your instinct to stiffen in his hold as he pulled you to him, cradling you against his chest. "I suppose it was foolish of me to think firethorn berries was an exception to my allergies."

"Allergies?!" Lucille snapped. "Thomas, you never mentioned anything about your new wife's allergies when you wrote to me about her."

"It's my fault," you answered her. "Honestly it was such a whirlwind romance and the wedding happened so fast there was so much we didn't get to know about each other." You gave a regretful look to your husband. "I'm sorry."

He gave you this sorrowful look, complete with teary eyes, furrowed upturned brows, and quivering lip, before pulling you closer again and resting your head on his shoulder. "This isn't your fault, darling. None of this is your fault. I'm just glad you're alright." You kept at it with your heaving breaths, gradually easing yourself back to a regular rhythm. "How about I fix us something to eat after we freshen up?" 

You gave him a weak nod, inwardly hissing that you'd rather starve than let them have another attempt at your life like that. Letting out a few more weak coughs and making sure to cover your mouth lest Lucille or Thomas know what an allergic reaction ideally looked like and realize that you'd been putting on a show, you turned your gaze to Lucille. "I'm so sorry you went through all this trouble--"

"It's no trouble at all, dear sister," she cut you off, the icy rage poorly veiled in her eyes despite the smile she was clearly straining to give you. "As Thomas said, what matters is that you're alright." Her eyes flickered to her brother one last time before she turned and left your bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"Let me go get you some water, darling." Thomas held your hands as you both stood, holding you close to him again when you were both up on your feet. "I could have sworn I felt my heart drop to the ground when you seemed about to hack out your lung from those heaves." 

He'd led you to the ensuite and turned on the tap. Once the water began to run you straightened your stance and stepped out of his hold, your coughs suddenly -- suspiciously -- a thing of the past. "It's so sweet of you to be so concerned, Thomas." The furrow between his brows deepened, the water overflowing from the glass and onto his hand. "Now tell me. Whose idea was it to poison me, dear husband?" You sneered the words now, as if they themselves were poison to even utter. "Was it yours? Or your sister's?" 

A/N: Welcome to…the series that I didn't actually intend to be a series 😅 When I was planning out this request I only intended for it to be 3 parts, and then I started writing it 2 days ago I realized that I'd be cramming way too much into one part if I wrote it the way I first planned, so it became 4 parts…and then 5…and now it's 8.

But I honestly look forward to diving into this story and sharing it with you all, and I just hope y'all like it, too 💖💛

‘everything’ taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina

[limehaspassed]

To Give a Man His Name

(Thomas Hewitt x M!Reader)

▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬

In which you run across four teens along the side of the road.

Part Two

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Prologue

He was born to the world in a crude and grotesque way, one that can only be described as a living nightmare. His birth was a fatality, an innocent brutality for he was just a babe merely being born. To take someone’s life so young, at such an age, was an image unseen in the world, despite its sordid nature.

From the very start of his life, from the time he was born, he was a murderer, someone who took the lives of those around him. As he grew into a man, once fit for killing, he came to terms with his conditions, realizing that there was only one path he could take within this cruel world.

However, when your hands caressed his face and your lips graced his own, his life felt limitless. All restrictions left and for the first time, he felt as if his strength could be used for something else.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chapter One

Texas, 1969 …

Texan heat bore down on your body as you swung the knife down repeatedly, a motion you’ve been repeating over and over since the morning’s first light. The smell of salty iron hit your nose, a rough and overwhelming smell, one that encircled your brain in a hazy and intoxicated field of buzzing cicadas.

You were a slave to your practice, a slave to your job. Everyday, you would wake up at the crack of dawn to make your expedition to that slaughterhouse and everyday you would slave away in front of that slab of wood, constantly slamming your knife into its surface over and over, consecutively using muscles most do not know exist. Your body would burn and your shoulders would cry but still, you would attend your job for you had a family to care for.

Your daughter, a young girl within her early teenage years, depended on your job for a life. Of course, your daughter wasn’t really yours, you had merely found her when she was around ten, abandoned on the streets. You had taken her in that day, whether out of pity or quickly growing love, you cared for her and you still cared for her to this day. She was your world now, your reason for continuing the path of slavery, your everything.

You were one in three workers at the meat factory for a while but that changed the day someone new showed up, someone intrusive and observant, someone so excluded yet centered it baffled you. He was a brute of a man, a massive guy who took up a good portion of the doorway. He held strong, sharp eyes, intelligent in a way you haven’t seen within others, not even yourself. He had a strong grip and quiet mouth. He was the ideal worker too, accepting of anything as long as he could work.

He was Thomas Hewitt, a man you would grow to know as the freak of the town, yet, you could never see why. From the day you met him, you’ve never considered him a freak, no matter what the people of that small, sullen town told you. They could express their own misguided hatred to the man all they wanted, but you would never back their statements. After all, on that day, the day you met him, your life was changed forever.

It all started a day before you actually met him, a day before he ever stepped foot into that meat factory. It all started one fateful afternoon when you stumbled upon a group of teenagers who had come from out of state, their car had broken down and they were in need of some help. Being the nice person you were, you aided them the best you could.

“Please, sir, can you help us? Our car has broken down and we don’t know where we are.” They had asked for your help first, reaching out to you like hungry children to a diligent mother.

“Sure, pop the hood why don’t yah.” You spoke casually, having experienced many broken down cars. People didn’t stay in this town but they often passed through and being the curse place it was, problems always occurred.

One of the teenage boys, his name was Carlos, did the honor of popping the hood. You thanked him and walked up to the car, taking a look at the motor. You couldn’t tell what was wrong at first but you eventually found the problem, one of the head gaskets was leaking, a problem that had overheated the engine of the car.

“Ah, I see the problem, your gasket needs replacing. You’re lucky it's an easy fix, all I need are the parts and I can fix it right here.” You explained to which the kids practically cheered. They thanked you and celebrated. You cut them short in their celebratory dances “I hate to be that person but the nearest place that sells gaskets is about three miles up the road.” You explained a guilt slowly trickling into your stomach. You felt bad that you had to ruin their celebrations.

“That’s okay, Carlos and I can go up there and retrieve it and bring it back.” Another kid named Dante spoke up.

You smiled and agreed to watch the girls, Lina and Grace, as they traveled to the nearest store. It didn’t take long for them to leave, waving goodbye to their girlfriends and you.

Once they walked far enough to where you couldn’t see them, you turned to the girls and talked with them. The three of you guys had spoken about a plethora of topics ranging from break up stories, societal morals, and more. They all seemed to be like interesting and nice people on the outside but the more they talked, the more you had begun to realize how different they were from you. You didn’t let this predicament affect you for too long though, always keeping a smile on your face, even when you felt like a complete outsider.

“I just think that the whole Vietnam war is bullshit.” They would say to which you tried your best to control your response. There was a part of you that formed hatred for their laid back words, their carefree attitudes, the way they talked about a war as if it was nothing else but a high school breakup, gossip to go around and around. You hated them and you still do, but you also feel bad for them. After all, they were only kids and they were stuck in the middle of a war.

Hours began to tick by and the boys had yet to return with the gasket. “Where are they? They should be back by now.” Lina had complained, a statement that only added to that trickling guilt. You worried something might have happened to them. A lot of things happened within this small town that no one ever talked about, that everyone was afraid to talk about.

“Do you think we should go find them?” Grace asked, her voice borderline frantic. “What if something happened to them? What if they are hurt or some weirdo snatched them up?” She asked repetitive questions, her mind looping in circles over the boy's case.

You walked over to Grace and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, she immediately jerked away and looked at you with scared eyes. The fear turned to anger and she lashed out at you. “I swear if this weird town of yours hurt my boyfriend, I will behead you. Now, show us where that gas station was, we’re going to find them.” She stated with an authoritative tone that sent shivers down your spine. Her three-sixty in character took you by surprise, She was more than fine merely a minute ago, she was even joking with you, now she’s practically screaming down your throat. Insane.

You backed away from her and pointed down the road. “Fine, but I’ll tell you this. Ain’t no one in this town wants anything to do with you or your little boyfriends. Now stop acting like you own the place and start walking, they ain’t gonna find themselves now are they?” You replied with an annoyed and bitter tone, pissed off that she would even take such a voice with you.

Grace rolled her eyes and mumbled, “whatever” before starting her walk down the road. Lina followed after her with you leading the back.

The three of your walked down the road under the blazing sun, the Texas heat boating down on you like a laser, burning your skin and stinging our eyes. It felt as if the earth was molten lava each time a foot was placed upon that heated asphalt. The heat seeped into the soles of the shoes, reaching up and attacking the foot with a fiery blaze.

It wasn’t until the sun began to set behind the horizon that the three of you made it to the gas station. Grace was the first one to make it inside, barging through the door with haste, not even stopping to say hello to the shop owner. She rampaged through the aisles, calling out the name of the boy’s. When you and Lina made it inside, Grace was already halfway through the store.

“You ain’t gonna find any of them here. Haven’t seen a soul all afternoon I’m afraid.” The lady behind the counter spoke in a calm tone.

Grace turned to face her with an angered look. “What do you mean no one has come in? They were supposed to be here. Are you telling me that they never made it to this shitty gas station?” She asked in a raised voice.

You stepped in front of Grace and held out an apologetic hand to the older lady. “I’m so sorry about that Mrs. Hewitt, her boyfriend is just missing and we’re trying to find him. I’m sorry about her tone, we’ll take her outside, won’t we, Lina.” You shot a pointed look over to the girl who immediately jumped into action and pulled Grace outside.

You didn’t follow them, you stayed behind to talk to Mrs. Hewitt, wanting to further apologize for the attitude Grace had taken up with her. “I apologize about her outburst, Mrs. Hewitt” You started, to which she simply nodded with her eyes closed. “Is there anything I can do to make this up to you, I’m sure it’s given you quite the fright?” You asked with a guilty tone. It was your fault that Grace had come in here, that the boys were now missing, you are the one that sent them down here in the first place.

Mrs. Hewitt opened her eyes and gave a soft smile. “It ain’t your fault, dear. And please, call me Luda Mae. All the formalities make me feel old.”

You nodded and smiled back at her. “Alright. Well, I’ll be back around as always, Luda Mae. See you tomorrow morning.” You took your exit after that.

The second you opened the door of the gas station to exit the building, you instantly noticed that both Grace and Lina were missing. You call out for them and walk around the building multiple times but still, there was no hint of them anywhere. You cursed yourself and kicked a rock on the ground. You had officially lost four teenagers in the span of four hours.

With a defeated sigh, you started walking up the road, heading back to the teenagers car, wondering if they had headed that way, simply leaving you behind. You didn’t get far when the sheriff pulled up, Winston Hoyt, the only officer in his unit here. He had pulled up beside you, driving slow in order to keep pace with you. He rolled down the passenger side window and called out to you.

“Do you need a lift?” He asked, partially yelling to beat the sound of his motor.

You kept walking for a moment before stopping, deciding that it was best that you just get home. Plus, you could hand the case of the missing children off to the sheriff and be free of them for the day.

The car halted to a stop and opened the passenger door, taking a seat inside before closing it. You gave the directions to your house and the Sheriff began driving, heading in the general direction of your house.

“You work at the that butcher place back there, right?” He asks, making small talk.

You nodded and gave a small hum, not in a talkative mood.

“So what are yah doing out here so late? Meeting a boyfriend?” He asked with a tease.

You looked over and visibly rolled your eyes, wanting him to see your expression. He laughed and playfully hit your shoulder.”I’m teasing but seriously, what are you doing out here so late?” He asked again, to which you went in and explained all the details.

You explained everything from the time you got off work to now. You explained how nice they were at first, how willing the boys had been to go get the part, how they never came back, how one of the girls flipped out, how you all went to find the boys, how you lost the girls, and how you ended up walking alongside the road, heading towards the site once more.

“I see. After I drop you off, I’ll go out looking for them. No need to worry about them no more, okay, sweetheart?” He asked, adding on an unnecessary pet name at the end.

You simply nodded and refrained from throwing up at the name he had called you. You always hated being called pet names, they never went well with you. For the rest of the ride, you were silent, not speaking a word, not responding to ending further questions. The only time you talked was to thank the Sheriff when you got out.

You were quick to head inside, your mind spinning and stomach flipped inside out. You felt like you were going to throw up, the guilt of losing those kids eating up at you. You hated leaving the case with the officer but it was the only thing you could do, there isn’t much else you can do, you don’t even have a car.

You went to bed that night with an empty stomach, the contents long since spewed out into the toilet. Your dreams were plagued by their faces and what might have happened to them. You hated it, you hated them, you hated guilt.

The next morning, before heading to work you ran by the site where the car had originally been parked. It was a normal, humid morning, the sky was clear and the earth was dry, despite the wet conditions of the air.

When you arrived at the scene, you were quick to realize that the car was no longer there, not a trace of the kids were left, not even skid marks of them pulling out. It was as if they had passed through the town like ghosts or had come through at all. You could only hope that they were headed out of town safely, that the officer had done his job correctly and handled the case with practiced ease. You could only hope.

After you left the site, you quickly headed over to the factory, not wanting to be late to your shift. Luckily, you arrived a minute before your shift started, just on time. You were quick to throw on an apron and gloves, quickly heading over to your station and preparing for the day.

It was here that you met Thomas, it was here that he walked through the doors with the boss leading him on through, giving him a tour of the place. It was here that he was assigned to share a station with you, and it was here that you would start an odd relationship with the town’s “freak”, as some would like to say.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thanks for reading loves 🖤

Part 1/9