Lady Camille

@fictive-sl0th (18+) ➢ 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑰 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑻𝑯 + 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔

[ladycamillewrites]

⎨Masterlist⎬

Thomas Sharpe

➢ Welcome home

➢ Devil's Baronet (dark)

James Conrad

➢ Spying on the captain

➢ Quick, Captain

➢ use me

➢ show some (series)

Robert Laing

➢ It's party time

➢ liquid confidence

Jonathan Pine

➢ How unprofessional

Will Ransome

➢ Amnesia

Mister Hiddles himself

➢ Against the odds - with @holdmytesseract

❋ second blog @fictive-sl0th ❋

[ladycamillewrites]

𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑'𝖘 𝕭𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖙

∙ Thomas Sharpe x f!reader

𝖆/𝖓: written for @springdandelixn ‘s spring sleepover project. Happy Birthday darling 🖤

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: 18+ dark fic!! non/dub-con smut, Crimson Peak ghosts, forced marriage, manipulation, y/n held hostage

“Lucille?” 

“Over here my dear. Look at the foxes hiding in the northern flower meadows” her voice lured you towards the great dining hall. Allerdale Hall was huge, almost as big as your fathers country estate but with way more pretty wildlife around. 

To hell with your father’s sick hunting-addiction. Your studies were more important and surely the more peaceful.

Rushing over to join your friend at the window, your eyes instantly widened in joy at the sight of a vixen with two cubs. They seemed overly entertained by the growing flowers while the mother had her hands full with watching her boisterous offspring.

“They are incredibly adorable, are they not?“ You chirped, barely able to suppress your excitement about the spring season here in Scotland.

Thanks to Lucille and her brother Thomas you were invited to spend as much time as you wanted in the mansion of your friend you once got to know at your families annual garden festivities. Someone brought Lucille along and well, the spark of sympathy was instantly lit. 

You’ve known her for quite a while. Two wonderful years regarding the regular letters and many visits. 

If there only wasn’t Thomas Sharpe; the unfairly fine baronet who always watched you from the shadows with his oceanic orbs shining like the full moon. The hunger in his eyes elicited a cocktail of fear, submission and unexplainable arousal. 

Most improper things. 

However, it was wedding season and your father might wanted to introduce you to some gentlemen when you’d be back. Hoping you would finally agree to marriage. It was a gift and a curse at the same time to be allowed to pick your husband yourself. 

Though, you were curious whether Thomas had found a fiancé.

“Tomorrow we will spot the grey seals at the bay, I’m most certain of it” Lucille smiled patting your shoulder before she weaves past your body.

The smell of Bergamot invaded your nostrils as you looked after your friend, unsure about the reason of her back-off. 

It was Thomas donning an emerald vest with a puffy white shirt underneath, the gold fob watch on proud display. It shone equally as mysterious as those almond eyes.

“How is the wedding season going for you so far, darling?“ He purred, chin hoisted when you opened your silent mouth, unsure about what to reply.

“I- I, erm my father, luckily, allows me to decide when I wish to get married“ you began, watching in awe as his eyes narrowed, knuckles crackling as he pressed them together in a silent predatory display.

Lucille stepped back in your sight, smiling richly to coax whatever your final answer was. The siblings looked not too alike, you noticed as your eyes tried to hold on to something other than Thomas’ expectant demeanor.

“-and also whom. But I rather wait until next year since I am deeply invested in my studies of northern wildlife“ you finished with a meek smile, hoping that your explanation would suffice. Lucille herself wasn’t married although she was older than you and already exceeded the marriageable age. 

Fresh confusion was written all across your face as Thomas nodded at his sister, took a small black box from her and approached you with black leather boots hitting the dull parquet. Nervous, you tugged a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze shifting to squint at the flowering poppies bathing in the dazzling sun.

However, you flinched when the baronet suddenly cleared his throat, attractive bone structure directed at you when he opened the box, drawing your attention. “Would you do me the honor then, y/n?“ His baritone resounded against the old walls of his mansion, leaving your heart miss a beat in utter shock. 

Not knowing where to put your hands, you clasped them together, trembling fists resting in front of your heavy chest. “Thomas, I- I don’t know what to say that comes all so…abruptly“ your stammer sounded rueful, yet reasonably composed and bewaring the appropriate courtesy.

Again, anxious eyes flickered over to Lucille, her face suddenly all darkened with a thousand words of diktat sitting on her tongue. Where was your friend gone? The woman who told you about the different groups of deer visiting her gardens?

“Your father would surely be content with closer business relations, wouldn’t he?“ Thomas said sternly, leaving you no metaphorical room to breathe with the only relevant leverage held against you. You would most certainly do anything for the man you loved most. And Thomas knew.

Forcing an awkward smile, your trembling hand reached out to carefully close the box with the ring that would grant his owner the title of Lady Sharpe. “Please, do not take this as an insult because it most certainly is not“ Tomas' piercing gaze darted up to meet yours “But I would prefer to wait until the next season as I don’t yet feel ready for such a momentous step“. 

Silence. 

Scoffing, Thomas turned away from you, the cool scent of him blew in your direction from the brusque move.

Serious unease started to settle in your veins, poisoning your brain with the carnal urge for freedom. To breathe fresh air. Alone. At least for a moment.

“Excuse me…“ you whispered, sweaty fingertips raising the skirt of your dress to make your way down the stairs.

“Don’t you think my machines would be of great use in your father’s gold mines overseas?“ The deep pitch got you to stop and pause. Your own agitated breathing the only thing audible in the huge dining room as you failed to spot Lucille.

There was only Thomas, his ocean blue orbs glinting across his shoulder as he desultorily looked back at you. “Thomas, I beg you. This was by no means a rejection. I’m just asking you for some time to finish my studies“. Your voice was reduced until every word sounded like a plea.

The self-confident woman had already left Allerdale Hall, it seemed. 

“I suggest you re-think your choice, darling“ he purred with a freeze like a winter storm, cold thrills descending your vertebrae. You didn’t dare to move nevertheless, muscles tense and ready to run. “Either that or you won’t ever leave this house“.

And you ran, muttering an unnecessary “Apologies“ as hasty legs carried you towards the staircase. That was when you started to notice a darkness, watching the curtains being pulled closed as if by witchcraft. 

Panic spread in your system, hands clasped onto the handle as you hurled yourself down the stairs. “Don’t leave“ a jarring voice breathed, causing you to stop mid-stairs, your head turning in slow motion. You did not want to know who else was living in this house right now however, the voice pierced straight into your consciousness. 

Gasping like a child fearing death you stared into the crimson face of what seemed like a ghost, slender limbs blocking the nearby window. With a cry you turned around, pacing downwards to the main door only to cry out harder when a second one of those horrific creatures blocked.

“Staaayyyyy“ they breathed in a terrific choir, filling your face with naked horror.

“I- I’m going to d-die. I’m going to be killed by ghosts“ you muttered, a stressed out brain trying everything to come up with a way out.

Turning on the spot like a cursed ballerina in a music box, you eventually spotted a single door that wasn’t yet blocked by those red, howling creatures. An exit you prayed when shaking hands twisted the doorknob. 

Slamming the heavy wooden door shut behind you, your head dropped against it with an echoing thud. Candle light flickered behind you, a large, elaborately designed closet was the only thing you were able to locate when hurling in. 

You were alone. In safety.

“I wasn’t jesting earlier, my dear“ an amused chuckle found your ears, the unique baritone making it past the rushing sound of hot blood in your head.

Thomas.

Panting heavily, you turned around, body too wasted to step back out and face those living nightmares again.

The tall, lean figure of the baronet stepped out of the shadows, a smug smirk resting on his thin lips. He looked handsome in candle light, you mused, burned out and incapable of summoning more fear. 

“What- What are they?“ You asked instead, slowly stepping backwards, deeper into the room that turned out to be a regal bedroom. Those suffering moans resounding against the wood were too much while their ugly image ghosted around in your head.

Clicking his tongue, Thomas started to circle you like a starved shark, stern eyes traveling your spent body. “Ghosts. And they shall only be obedient to the Sharpes“. 

“Let me go, please. I swear I won’t tell a word about this curse“ you pleaded, feeling dizzy from following the spheroid course of Thomas steps. 

“It is only to be felt as a curse as long as you are not my wife. Therefore I shall ask again before my courtesy is the next thing to turn crimson“ he spat, every syllable weirdly monotonous, unfitting the usual behavior of the fine baronet. He felt like a changed man, even looked different with onyx curls splattered across his forehead instead of being neatly combed back. 

You swallowed hard, gathering the boldness to state your point of view one last time, hoping he would somehow understand. Whyever he should now.

“Thomas, I cannot deny that you’re a handsome man of honor and overly gentlemanly but I beg you to rather propose next year“.

Watching his eyes fall shut and theatrically reopen as if drenched in pitch, you felt your hands and feet turn cold, any signs of a happy ending rusting and crumbling.

Frozen, you endured his approach, potent hands gripping your shoulders. At first gentle but then he turned you around swiftly, forcing your terrified eyes to stare at the door. Resistance was in vain.

“Oh darling, I’m afraid my friends would miss you so terribly that they cannot wait for a promised return that’s worth nothing more than hollow words“ he whispered in your ear, leaning so close that his chin brushed your temple. 

A wicked grin spread on Thomas’ face as he felt you writing underneath his grip, whining like a child as crimson arms reached through the tiny gap at each side of the door. “Thomas, please stop“. “Think of only how content your father would be to have the source of revolutionary machines in his family, huh?“.

And you yielded, screwing your eyes shut as you screamed what he wanted to hear so desperately. “ Alright, I will marry you“.

Instantly, the grip around your shoulder blades softened, transformed in a weirdly pleasant caress. “Good girl“ Thomas cooed from behind, blithely watching the goosebumps paint your pale neck. “Now give me your hand“.

Reluctantly you turned, reaching out to the emerald fabric of his open hanging vest only for him to slap away your hand. A venomous gaze stiffened your back, twitching brows wordlessly forcing you to correct your mistake.

Now offering your left hand, the adequate one, he grabbed it, making it look ridiculously small as he slipped a heavy ruby ring on your finger. 

You paused to stare at it, sick of the realization you had lost a year of juvenile freedom to a sinister, fine baronet. Under duress, not voluntarily.

“May I leave now? I need to apprise my father of this... well, situation“ you spoke again, the bitterness of a intertwined ‘are you happy now?’ swinging within your tone. But Thomas only chuckled, freeing himself of the vest to toss it on the fur carpet. 

“Do you truly think of me as this imbecile, my darling fiancé?“ the last word hit you with the force of a southern coal train. 

Shaking your head in a broken submission, your promptly tried to adjust your words, letting you sound more trustworthy. But the chance was long gone, rotten like the ghosts lurking behind the door. It glued your mouth shut instead. 

Slowly he stepped closer, reaching behind your back as you felt long digits loosen your beige corset. “You think of this marriage as nothing but a business deal“ he began, hot air from his voodooed lungs meeting your sweaty cleavage. Biting your lips you stayed silent, more or less eager for his continuation.

“Well, in fact it is so much more. You are the most gorgeous woman I ever laid eyes on, y/n. You will bear me beautiful heirs to my title“. Your heart contracted violently, fighting against the choice your helpless mind had made. The irrevocable choice forcing you to actually step in the role of a faithful wife. 

“I- what? What are you doing?“ You stammered, trying to hold on to the heavy fabric of your dress as it started to slide down your shoulders, threatening to leave you in only undergarments. 

Growling like a wolf, the baronet gritted his teeth when annoyed hands pulled it out of your grasp. “Please“ you whined, covering yourself with two quivering arms while you knew damn well that your fate was sealed. “You shan’t never hide what’s to be mine. Understood?“ He barked however, silent and graceful while hasty hands unbuckled his black breeches. 

Slowly, swallowing your pride, you let your arms hang down, eyes fixated on the flickering candle behind your fiancé. You would tell him to order more of them, you thought, they smelled nice. 

“Now, this cock won’t suck itself“.

Disbelieving, widened eyes darted back at him, insecurity smeared all across your face like neon lotion. 

Thomas’ brow was raised, his potent jaw bobbed forward in bloody impatience. “Once I had you, no other man will ever touch you. I’m just making sure my fiancé won’t renegade on her promise“ he stated as sober as well water, the poison within a stark black swirl. 

Succumbing to your fate, you dropped to your knees, staring at his manhood that twitched in lusty anticipation. “I- I’ve never…“ you mumbled, awkwardly curling your fingers around the hot shaft. He was huge, bigger than your housemaid had told you men were. 

You didn’t know whether his sympathy for you was feigned or not as Thomas told you how to wrap your lips around the tip and use your tongue to bring him satisfaction until he would thrust into your mouth.

And how you should let him.

Then you began to pleasure him, swallowing hot saliva around his wide girth until you heard him moan and grunt above you, blueish veins straining his neck when his head lolled back. It was a sinful sound, radiating pure masculinity and drenching your panties, if you wanted it to or not. 

Thomas was incredibly handsome, you couldn’t deny his charms. So you gave in trying to focus on breathing as he started to fuck your mouth. Knuckles turned white from the strong grip around the edge of the bed when wolfish growls and curses left his parted lips. 

You felt torn as he suddenly pulled out, hand still buried in your hair to yank you back on your feet. “No“ you babbled, feeling the burn of your scalp wandering down to infect your gut. You were not ready for what was to come. 

“What was that, pet?“ 

“I- I don’t want to“ your whisper felt pathetic. “You do not wish to be a good, obedient wife?“ Thomas hissed through gritted teeth, the blue in his eyes drowning you like a relentless ocean, features sharpened by the candle light. 

Dragging his face in a faux pout the sinister baronet mocked you “I assumed you wanted to see the grey seals tomorrow, darling. We could go together…“ he purred, gradually lowering you onto the duvet of his big bed. “Would my pretty fiancé like that?“.

You stared in his eyes, biting the inside of your cheek until a taste of copper was the product of your fear. “I’d love that, Thomas“ you forced yourself to say, nails digging in the red fabric gathered by your sides. 

A content smile curled his lips before a strong knee pressed between your legs, unfazed by any resistance. “If you are good for me…we’ll go“ he snarled, sliding back down to hook a finger in the waistband of your panties, the undergarment ripping in no time under his swift pull. 

Gasping, your upper body shot up, protesting against the man who stared at your naked cunt as if it was a box of gems he craved to possess and lock behind metal doors. “Thomas, please don’t“ a whine that erupted directly form your heart left him entertained, ignorant fingertips spreading your lips. 

“As I said, darling. Without some kind of assurance, words are rendered nothing but mere sounds“. 

“But why does it have to be like that?“

A big hand came closer as he crawled back up, pressing against your breasts to keep you glued to the mattress. New terror was born in your eyes, fading into absent-mindedness as you felt him drag his cock along your fold, chuckling to himself. 

He would take me either way you thought, trying to accept the burden that was the title of Lady Sharpe. You would have happily married him.

Next year though.

“Fuck, look at you. All wet like a whore yet so innocent“ you frowned at his words, eyes screwed shut to await the inevitable intrusion. “Please be gentle“ you heard yourself mutter, shocked by the taste of complete submission on your tongue. 

“Ah, ah! Eyes on me. I want to watch you as I make you my wife“ Thomas demanded, dropping on his elbow, needy cock lined up with your pussy. The tingle of his loose curls against your collarbone was a poor distraction to the fiery burn as he breached you, growling at the dark of his chamber. 

It felt unlike anything you had ever imagined, the thick ridges of his big cock stretching you beyond your limits.

Whining underneath him, palms pressed against the puffy shirt, lips begged him to pause until he did. “G-Gods… you feel p-perfect. So tight“ his husky moans were needles pricking your cheek as you felt him twitch inside you, the moment of pause weirdly fading the pain into pleasure. 

Until he pulled out, hips slapping against your ass when he began to pound into you, mercy far beneath his carnal needs. “Thomas, I- I can’t“ you whimpered silently, staggered breaths interrupting your senseless plea.

But he didn’t say a word, instead biting his rosy lip from the sheer pleasure your hesitant body bestowed on him. He looked feral, the collected, analyzing baronet who used to make nice business with your dad now hidden behind a black out curtain.

Darkness engulfed you when the candle finally died, leaving Thomas the only thing to hold onto in the cursed mansion that was now yours.

And so you did, clawing your nails in your fiancé’s muscular back, praying for the candle to be magically lit up again. To have mercy on your heart while Thomas’ relentless cock blanketed your body in unfamiliar ecstasy until he came, spilling his hot seed deep inside your core what forced you to followed him, chanting his name in your own crimson peak. 

tags (feel free to ignore if it's not your genre) : @coldnique @gigglingtigger @muddyorbs @gigglingtigger @smolvenger @toozmanykids @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl

[smolvenger]

I have to reblog this again, because I remembered this fic yesterday and zoned out in the middle of being with my family. So of course I had to read this delicious masterpiece again! Phew! Wow!!!!

[ladycamillewrites]

@smolvenger oh wow I'm soooo happy this fic managed to make a lasting impression 😨😊

Thank you so so much it's the biggest compliment 💜

[ladycamillewrites]

▻ 𝙻𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

▻ “One bed with Laing“ request by the lovely @muddyorbs

▻ warnings: 18+ smut, alcohol, light voyeusism, bit of choking kink, language, dom!Laing vibes

“Laing?” you called out as the door to the bathroom in apartment 27 b was opened. 

It wasn’t your original apartment though. Since the high rise 'still has to settle' to quote Royal some pipes were mocking, spilling water all over the 25th and 28th floor. 

Fate had decided doctor handsome also known as Robert Laing and you were paired up to share one of the apartments still for sale to bide your time until the tinsmiths were done. 

You were sure the building just wanted to punish you. Doctor Laing was incredibly fine, his face a work of art. His body in no way inferior when he sunbathed on the balcony, making your panties suffer.

“Yes, darling?” his soothing voice snaked across the corner so smoothly. Your knees feel like jelly once again. He had started to call you darling yesterday morning as you bumped into each other in the bathroom. 

Awkward was not a way to describe how you had felt almost naked in front of the tall man who was soaking wet, only a towel hiding his privates women were lionizing.

But you just couldn't manage to speak freely to Laing, needless to say the plan to ask him out never became reality.

“I… erm, listen I work here in the building but your Job is so hard and you need the good sleep” you answered from the kitchen not really getting straight to the point. 

Casually looking like elegant sex on legs the doctor strode in your field of view, doing the final touches of a black tie. He looked neat, precisely composed by daylight whereas the whole high rise knew that Laing could be an insatiable party animal.

“Beautiful woman, listen…” he purred coming closer, his cologne mingling with your freshly poured coffee. A kind of weird mixture you would be pleased to wake up to every day.

Stunned, you stood there, eyes glued on his veiny, big hand that wrapped around yours holding the mug. His unique oceanic gaze captured you with a wave of suave whispers, his voice now even deeper.

“What kind of gentleman would deny you the only bed in here?” 

Your grip around the porcelain melted underneath Laing’s tender but determined hand. 

“But like I said, we can-“ 

“No” the doctor simply chuckled, smirking as he hoisted the cup to his lip level. Your hand quickly surrendered and slipped off. A kind of submission you haven't planned. 

“We will not ask Royal for permission to move in a three chambers apartment, dear.” Laing noted before taking another big sip of your coffee.

“Rules are designed to be followed, are they not?” Carefully, he slid the mug back in your meanwhile frozen hand and turned around with his open jacket swaying in the swift motion.

But the tall blonde whose tantalizing legs went all the way up to the rooftop, stopped for a second when he grabbed the silver doorknob.

“See you at the party, darling”.

“Have a good day, doctor” you chirped seeing him wink at you before there was only silence surrounding you in the apartment that wasn’t yours.

Sighing and mourning the majority of coffee Laing had claimed just like that, you weaved past the kitchen counter, eyes falling on the couch that was his makeshift bed. 

“Fuck this” you murmured to yourself, eyeing the neatly folded sheets with curiosity sparkling in your eyes.

He had such a calculated, correct nature to himself yet shamelessly drank your coffee and always came home with his dress shirt sluttishly open and appearing ready for some debauchery. 

Which he often caused or at least relished in a few floors above.

Tonight, the party at Charlotte’s… Laing had asked you to come but normally those things weren’t quite your thing. All the drunk people, drugs, loud music and so on. 

Fumbling with the hem of your skirt your thoughts trailed off to your wardrobe, the black silk dress to be exact. No, it was too expensive to just bide it’s time on a hanger.

Perhaps the parties here were different to all the college booze-ups, you mused enjoying the last drops of hot coffee. Butterflies tormented your belly when your lips met the exact same spot Laing’s had caressed the red mug. 

Clenching your thighs at the lewd thought of him kissing along your shoulders, suckling on your collarbone you made a decision; the handsome man with this special note of madness would see you at that fucking party. 

“Where the hell is Laing?” Charlotte yelled, her voice barely audible between heavy beats and her hand resting on your ass. The slutty silk covered your upper thighs but that was it.

Two glasses of white wine had worked reliably, pulling your consciousness in a spiral of false bravery and sexual confidence.

Your friend was damn right.

Where was mister handsome now that you felt loosened up?

“Ladies… lookin’ sharp tonight, don’t ya?“ Wilder’s agitated voice suddenly made you flinch, the liquid in your glass gushing and splashing as you tripped over the rolled up carpet edge. 

With a shriek you found yourself in strong arms keeping you from falling, a familiar cologne send hints through your nostrils. 

“Wilder, my boy... You’re scaring her“ Laing chuckled, a blurry warning embedded in his quip.

You looked up, Laing looking down at you with his charming smile. A thousand sweet needles pricked your skin as the goosebumps spread across your legs. There he was.

How the hell were you able to withstand this god of a man’s magnetic pull for such a long time?

One of his dirty blonde eyebrows were raised as he sucked in his lower lip, completely fascinated by your cleavage on full display in that position. But you let him, marinated in the handsome doctor’s hungry gaze every single woman in the high rise tried to attract shamelessly.

“You did have quite a few drinks, huh darling?“ 

“Maybe… It’s Charlottes fault tho“ you giggled, a disoriented hand reaching out for your friends reassuring touch.

The alcohol did help to feel flirty nevertheless, Laing was weirdly intimidating like this; hair sleazily disheveled, jacket god knows where and dress shirt halfway open exposing his chiseled chest adorned by subtle hints of blonde curls. 

But she was gone, yelling across the room from a free couch instead. 

You took a glance at Laing who had pushed you back on your legs now, hand lingering on your ass for an inappropriate time. Whereas everything going down in the high rise was highly inappropriate, needless to say far from legal or sane.

And the man who looked so neat in the mornings was inhaling the poisoned air as if it was clean oxygen.

“Come, sit on my lap, y/n“ it sounded as sugary as a romantic ask yet making your lower muscles tense up in magical anticipation. You’ve never been that close to Laing except of a few hugs before he was off to university.

Everyone knew his thighs were a dangerous place to be.

However, when you finally straddled him, his sharp jaw resting on your shoulder while he spoke to his friends with that low timbre, you nearly imploded. 

Track of time was long lost with Laing, Charlotte and countless other residents forgetting about the world and going feral. 

“Could you prescribe me some uppers?” Charlotte mewled trying to hinder Wilder from biting her exposed thighs.

Laing’s “no” was a deep gravelly eruption, the vibrations transferring to your already sizzling core. 

His demanding hand snaked underneath your arm, dexterous digits sprawled across your lower belly as the doctor held you firmly in place. 

“Á propos, did you know the female orgasm can be just as effective?” 

Gasping, a cherry tone shot up to mingle with your rosy blush. As if under a spell, your body leant closer to explore the sensation of his bare chest against your back while your mind drowned in his suggestive words.

“I bet Doctor Laing is experienced in anatomy” something drove you to coo, making him shift underneath you. 

A rock hard erection was pressed against your clothed pussy. Laing made zero effort to hide his obvious arousal. 

“Especially in female anatomy” the lewd oath accompanied a wanton twitch of his length, drawing a dirty moan from the depths of your lungs.

The last bits of shame and common reason let your hand fly to cover your scarlet lips. 

But Laing’s elegant fingers wrapped around your own, gently but dominantly pulling them down, the tips lewdly hooking in your lower lip. 

He tasted clean, the aura of disinfectant embracing a sweet hue of cranberry syrup. 

“Look around, pet” he purred in your ear, his hot tongue tickling your earlobes as he spoke. You knew you would never be sated with his rich voice and the English accent dripping like molten gold let him appear so snobby. 

And you obeyed, head tilting to the right as your eyes, sensitive to every flash and motion, scanned the loud party. Clothes were scattered on the floor or adorning men and women in a halfway ripped state.

Feeling your jaw trying to drop against Laing’s hand, you took in the obscene images of people naked, panting, moaning… fucking. 

Charlotte was on her knees for Wilder, the alcohol not leaving her unfazed as well while the young woman from the 26th spread her legs for a manager from the upper thirties.

It was heavy yet incredibly salacious to your mind. 

“Can- can we le-?“ But your question faded with a subtle buck of Laings hips allowing his clothed cock to slip between your wet folds.

The lack of panties wasn’t helping your working nerves, eager to find out what more of his body against yours would feel like.

How he could make you feel with his cock… maybe even better than his teeth sinking in your neck?

“Apologies, what were you saying?“ The smug man chirped, winking as you looked back at him. His cheeks were painted with a subtle red only underlining his bone structure that was nothing but the one of a Greek god; sharp, accurate and alluring.

“More…I want more of you“.

A ridiculously short time later you found yourself in the huge bedroom of your shared apartment, swaying in Laing’s arms after he had put 'My Way of Life' on the vintage record.

One of the few items he had brought along from his original apartment and what made you even more curious about this complex man.

“You want me to show you pleasure?“ Laing purred, his big hand still resting on the small of your back, drawing seducing circles.

As if he was clinging to the gentleman that was lingering somewhere deep within him but had long lost to a more primal nature.

Sinatra’s melodic voice still rung in the background as you lost yourself in the baby blues, feeling the white wine bubbling on your puffy lips. Doctor Laing was a twisted drug, even more arousing than any alcohol Charlotte had talked you in…

Your demure nod brushed his agape mouth as he leant down, guiding his hot breath to fan the fresh bite marks on your neck. He smelled like luxurious Champagne goading you to accept and await his feverishly skimming lips.

The passionate kiss was promise and salvation at the same time, his rough tongue objecting to Laing's gentlemanly image.

Probably the sexiest discrepancy.

“I will now, darling. But you’re too fucking sexy to claim with those men around. I know what they’d try but the doctor doesn’t share“

Laing snapped, inviting the maniac that slumbered within to get a hand tight on the steering wheel.

Greedy hands clasped around your waist, suddenly pushing you backwards on the bed, hoisting and guiding your body like it weighed as light as a feather.

You could swear you saw the white fabric of his shirt almost burst from his flexing trained shoulders. 

“I thought I should take the bed for myself?“ You giggled, gasping for air as his pearl white teeth sunk in the soft flesh under your breasts. Those have been his own words the day you involuntarily moved in together.

You were just giving him a taste of his own medicine. Or chivalry as Laing would call it in the sober mornings.

Perhaps he was some weird kind of gemini; two-faced like the 24 hours of the day split into daytime and night.

A dark chuckle greeted your ass when Laing roughly gripped your ankles, flipping you around and roaming across your beautiful butt cheeks while his nose pushed the hem of your dress up. 

“Yes, for sleeping. But for now I will fuck you so thoroughly, the only thing you need to worry about is walking tomorrow“.

You whined, bursting with anticipation for this irritatingly handsome man to make true to his words. It felt too good to be on full display for Laing hungry with need and desire. 

Staying down, enjoying the view of the most alluring woman in the high rise, Laing's left hand found your neck.

Twitching at the feeling of fabric slipping across your head, caging your throat you tried to find out what was happening.

“Shhh...hold still for me, dear“ Laing pulled his black tie, now adorning your neck, tighter, chuckling when you tried to wriggle out. I vain, of course what mercilessly goaded his pulsing cock.

A kinky man, you grinned silently, ready for him to push you in his own twisted world.

“Fuck“ his baritone rung from behind before he redirected his attention, nibbling on the soft flesh “you’re gorgeous“.

“Gods, doctor Laing would you fuck me already?“ Your ass wiggled wantonly, accompanying your decadent plea so the blonde man couldn’t help it but loose himself completely.

“Up on all fours and spread, darling. The doctor needs some space to work“.

A rough tug of the tie around your throat made you gasp but rapidly transformed in the ardent sensation of submissiveness.

His voice was dripping with a wicked dominance nearly finishing your wet pussy. However, his charming coos of 'darling' wooed the shit out of your heart feeling like a reward for the subtle tries of flirting for days. 

The unbuckling of his belt, hidden by the dress shirt hanging sluttishly open, rung like a church bell inviting you to sin. 

“La- Laing… please“ you shuddered, nails buried in the duvet as he dragged the wide tip of his cock through your throbbing folds, relishing in every visible twitch of your muscles. 

The smug smirk was audible when he rasped in your ear from behind “It’s doctor Laing, hm?“ And then he breached you for the first time.

Slowly, intimately inch by fucking inch until your parted lips summoned the sweetest sounds underneath him. 

“Come on…ahhh fuck…y-you almost made it“.

His words send sparkling stars to flash in front of your eyes when the promise became too sweet. Fuck, you didn’t even know if you could take it but your dizzy body was more than willing to try.

“You are my way of my life - The only way I know“ Sinatra sang in the background while the intoxicating man from the 25th floor claimed you, and overwhelmingly so.

Bucking your hips when you felt his cold hand against your sex, Laing scoffed through gritted teeth, the sound something primal and needy.

“You did it. Good girl“ he purred leaning over and circling your clit in lavish strokes before finally withdrawing to grip your hips.

Moaning like a whore as you realized he was checking if his cock was fully buried within you, Laing started pulling out.

The black fabric that wantonly connected his hand with your sensitive throat occasionally jerked, opening the heavy doors to hyper-stimulation.

Hundreds of stars you had seen a flash of before returned as colorful fireworks with the brutal pace he was setting. An obscene smell of sex infiltrated your shared apartment, the bed creaking and shaking from his recklessly snapping hips. 

Bruises would adorn your hips soon but you couldn’t care less. The handsome doctor pushed you closer to release with every thrust knocking the air out of your exited lungs. 

“Oh godd… do-doctor Laing, please“ but you had long forgotten what exactly you were begging for.

His whoreish grunts and slaps of your reddened ass were more aphrodisiac than you could take. Hearing his breath quickening, you awaited the next slap because you learnt it would mean a soft caress after.

“Ngh shit... y-you’re so tight“.

For you, you thought, completely numb to the terrific thoughts of what could happen tomorrow morning when you both would wake up sober again.

“Are you coming for me, darling? Oooh, you are…I can feel your perfect pussy gripping me… f-fuck“.

Robbed of control over your body, your head dropped down in orgasmic defeat. Glassy eyes watched the decadent way you were united, Laing’s wide cock wet and disappearing inside your core over and over again in a dizzying pace.

“Uh-huh“ was all you were capable of with mouth agape, hormones running riot in your system. 

“Do it, gorgeous. Show me how…ohhh damn…much you need me“ he grunted, own head lolling back with his disheveled curls bobbing in the doctor’s relentless thrusts. 

Increasingly, your nerves began to sizzle like electric wires out of control. But it all wasn’t enough Laing decided under a heavy moan of your name when your knees lost contact to the bed, floating under his powerful grip.

His cock was triggering every sweet spot in this new angle, making the unbeatable sensation of the first penetration make do with the second place.

All the tension suddenly snapped as you cried out, feeling like dying the most enticing death life had to offer.

As if he wanted to hear every tone and note you had to give to praise him, the tie dropped from his grasp.

Laing made you ride out your orgasm, giving you long, deep thrusts to sweetly remind you of his presence until your feet hit solid ground again. 

Panting with legs wobbly and slowly giving up under your own weight, your eyes fluttered shut.

Thoroughly spent but still burning like a wildfire. 

“Ah, ah!“ Laing chided “I'm not done... you better start counting now“ his voice husky from suppressing his own climax and moaning loud enough for the whole 27th floor to hear.

“One“…

thank you for reading!! I hope you liked it Ally 💚

tags / fyi: @lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtigger @mochie85 @coldnique @springdandelixn @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @toozmanykids @simplyholl @michelleleewise @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @joyful-enchantress @thomase1 @vbecker10 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @huntress-artemiss @lunarnights95 @ladymischief11

[ladycamillewrites]

Against the Odds

Chapter 12 - It's Showtime

a/n: So sorry for not uplaoding last week as Maddie and I ususally intended to🖤 My life was quite the mess and I was mourning a dear friend... please excuse the delay, friends :)

warnings: 18+ smuttish, talks of pregnancy, mean media/press, cussing, past trauma -response

masterlist

“What’s that cute pouty face about, my love?“ Tom asked, those entertained sparkly hues flashing in his sky blue eyes. Greek gods spoke through his accurate bone structure, the slightly tired look and gravel in his voice only making it worse for you to accept the storage compartment thing that separated your business class seats.

Coyly biting your lips, your gaze wandered from your lap to the window and back.

“Ohhh, I get it. My darling wants the window seat?“ Your boyfriend chuckled leaning over to press a warm kiss on your forehead before long, elegant legs hoisted his body up. Fast as lighting seats were swapped and a broad grin adorned your face as you took in Singapore airports many flickering lights.

It was late and your layover luckily not too long nevertheless, the thought of having 13 hours left to spent in this plane was tiring.

“Psst... Baby Hiddles?“ 

“Tommy, I somehow have the feeling they won't answer“ you giggled yawning, your elbow propped on the small curved crevice under the window to support your heavy head. Tom would never be mad at you for being a bit absent when almost five months pregnant with twins. Your body was practically working 24/7 to nourish and keep the little troublemakers safe.

“But the most beautiful woman on earth sure can“ he purred brushing your loose hair to he side, his hot, weirdly seductive breath tickling your earlobe. “I have to remark you were quite responsive last night, y/n“.

A hot, skittish shiver descended your spine, a familiar clench of thighs proved your muscle memory working. With delicious memories worth to revel in…

Hungry hands roamed across your back, strong thumbs gently massaging your muscles what provided heavenly relief. But Tom, of course, wasn’t only to do your back muscles a favor.

A wolfish grin appeared next to you, flashing in the corner of your eye like a flickering torch. “Darling, I cannot control myself any longer. I need to feel you. Please“ Tom’s baritone voice begged, the omnipresent respect he had for you showing in every part of his plea.

“Then have me, Thomas“

“Oh, you know exactly what happens when you’re calling me that, don’t you?“ He groaned, slowly letting his arched back sink down until all you felt were his flexing abs on top of your bare back, his promising erection poking the soft flesh of your butt cheeks.

Hell, you knew how much it turned him on so his full name slipped from your lust-drunken tongue once again. So easily. So natural.

“Fuck, Darling“ he cursed, gently but demandingly biting along your shoulder. Tom didn’t cuss often but when he did, it sounded so fucking sexy intertwining perfectly with the unique tone of his British accent. “Please just take me. Now“ you panted totally intoxicated by the obvious feeling of Tom’s soft knuckled brushing your rear again and again.

He was pleasuring himself.

“So responsive while I’m not even truly touching you, my love“ the low baritone chided you playfully, a mischievous smirk on lips audible in a salacious way.

You had awakened his darker side, the side he only showed you and only served your pleasure. His body and mind were yours completely while you gave in to him with every fibre of your quivering body. 

It didn’t take long until the whole room was filled with passionate moans and staggered breaths, your bodies dancing with each other while the physical union existed in perfect parallelism with your connected minds. “I love you, baby. You’re perfect” Tom’s gravelly voice, husky from all the talking throughout the day. 

“Fuck, Tommy. I- I have never been ha-happier” you murmured while the sweet haze of pleasure sent your nerves skyrocketing.

It felt perfect. He felt perfect, meant to be even. You couldn’t even count the times Tom made you touch a piece of heaven since he had arrived in Australia but hell, it was like a dream your fragile mind marinated in as long as it lasted. 

Just the two of you. With people you both love and won’t judge. But after every dream there’s a harsh welcome to reality. 

“Tom…” you murmured absent-mindedly, fingers drawing circles on the beige armrest. A sign of nervousness perhaps since going back to London automatically implied the premier coming closer and closer which in turn meant your hide and seek with the world and press was over. And with Nate.

An inevitable cascade of cataclysmic events.

The Brit shuffled in his seat, arm reaching out to hand you the glass of orange juice, a welcome drink 'pregnant woman' edition.

Tom’s champagne bubbled temptingly but the wellbeing of your children was your absolute number one priority. No alcohol for as long as needed. “Darling, what is going on in the beautiful mind of yours?“ He asked carefully, the smile dropping as you rejected the drink sighing.

“I don’t know if I can do this. I’ve asked my tailoress and she said 'it would be quite the challenge to hide those two' “ two fingers drawing quotation marks in the air while your heart ached and shifted. 

“What if we showed them?“ 

“W-What?“ 

“Y/n, you and the Mini-Hiddles make me the luckiest man alive. And I would be a fool if I didn’t show the whole world what I won. What we’ve created“ he purred, a gentle hand caressing your thigh in slow strokes.

The same charming smile you once fell in love with in the film studio met your anxious eyes as you turned to face your boyfriend. If you would be staring enough, it might even melt your doubts.

“But what if they take it from us again, Tom? You’ve seen what they’re capable of and how little I could do against it“. Your gaze dropped from his steel blues, memories of the colorful headlines which spread about a month ago returned to terrorize your sanity.

God, they even brought you to leave the love of your life for literally nothing.

“Hey, look at me“ he coaxed your gaze back up until you were drowning in the beauty of his face again. “My love, no one will ever be able to destroy our bond, okay? Not the press and most of all not Thompson“ the hatred and sneer embedded in British accent clearly audible when your ex's name slipped form his lips.

However, without a warning your lips sealed, your boyfriend’s passionate tongue demanding entrance and showing you what you meant to him.

Everything.

“You are no one to be hidden, darling. I want to scream it to the world that you’re the woman to carry my heart“ he whispered as your mouths parted a few centimeters, hot breaths fanning against wet lips. A herd of vivid butterflies began their journey through your veins, spreading Tom’s intoxicating love in your system like a drug. 

A big hand found your belly, more obvious as the twins grew, the warmth of his touch making one of them move. “Let’s show them what I did to you, hm?“ The sexual innuendo made both of your grin, your vocal cords summoning an enchanted giggle; testament to the effect Tom’s words had on you. 

“I’ll think about it, okay?“ You murmured, nibbling on his lower lip, eager for another of his heavenly kisses that were capable to make you forget about anything. To forget didn’t mean to heal, you knew that damn well but let a woman relax for once.

An approving hum vibrated against your skin making your thighs clench so deliciously involuntary. A unique effect only the charming dad of your unborn little treasures had and all to willingly used against you. 

“Love?“ Tom’s gravelly morning voice echoed across the big apartment after the Brit realized his gorgeous woman wasn’t laying curled up in his arms like usually. 

“Kitchen“ you chirped back, a happy smile curling your lips when the smell of fresh pancakes infiltrated your nostrils. It was late spring in London, birds singing their gleeful melodies and rays of a newborn sun creeping through every window alongside a warm, flowery breeze.

The pair of maternity leggings you deemed the most comfortable sat snugly around your baby bump while one of Tom’s notorious blue sweaters hid your upper body. They were far too comfortable and smelled perfectly like home.

The last few days in your shared home was cozy and calm. Cuddles weren’t rare and the sweet nothings Tom constantly whispered in your ears warmed your heart to the hilt and caused a broad smile to constantly be glued on your face. “Strawberries or chocolate?“ You asked the two tiny beings in your belly who were more and more active. And occasionally tormenting.

“How about one for each Hiddles?“ Tom quipped playfully as he appeared next to you, a fuzzy, white bath robe hugging the athletic man. “Hmmm, quite the genius today“. Your boyfriend’s laughter rung soothingly in your ear, his arm snaking around your waist to lean your smaller body back against his.

“As if my hunger wasn’t already big enough to eat more than one“ you snickered placing Tom’s other hand on your belly to let him feel his moving offspring. “Fear not, little wonders. Granny is surely already preparing for a lavish dinner tonight“ he murmured, ocean blue orbs oozing pure devotion as he eyed your bump.

“Tom! I feel fat when you’re doing that. Stop“ you exclaimed with a traitorous smile on your lips. Oh, you always dreamt of becoming a mom and the journey was just as special as the real adventure yet to await you so you cherished every single day of pregnancy.

Even if some were nerve-wrecking and really exhausting.

A chiding eyebrow was raised at your comment, cute wrinkles forming on your man’s forehead as he looked you in the eye. “Nope“ he sad popping the p. “I won’t ever get tired of the sight of my gorgeous girlfriend. Especially now“ hot breath met your skin alongside his slightly suggestive comment, eliciting an adorable trail of goosebumps down your neck. 

Careful teeth began nibbling at your shoulder as you flipped the pancakes, placing tiny pieces of chocolate on top to melt. “Thomas“ you panted feeling the familiar heat built between your legs before your consciousness stepped in to avert a make out session in between a hot stovetop and not yet put away, freshly washed up knives.

The twins made you so much more cautious. However, it truly was for the better.

“Can- outch! Can you watch them for a sec? Your kids are playing baseball with my bladder“. Hasty steps rushed towards the bathroom, Tom’s amused laughter echoing from behind. Cheeky little shit. 

Scrolling through instagram in the quick moment of privacy you found an article about… you and Tom.

Of course, your shaky fingers clicked on it to find out what kind of misery you were accused of now. Secretly, you didn’t even want to know but nevertheless, it was important for your own pr and most of all Tom’s reputation you started to care about even more than your own. 

A snapshot of you and Tom arriving at London Heathrow in the early morning sprung at you, the thin beige coat luckily hiding your front completely so no baby alarm. “At least“ you murmured to yourself before scrolling down to see whatever headline this spontaneous spot at the airport might’ve caused. 

Not gonna lie, your were nervous but the confidence Tom’s honest and supporting love planted in your mind grew stronger with every day in his arms.

Perhaps it was ready to fight- or show?

<<Tom Hiddleston and girlfriend y/n Hemsworth happy after love vacation>> 

You had to blink twice before realization set in.

Desperately, you searched for the cheeky innuendo or harsh undertone but there were none. Not a single thing sounded bad about this.

Subconsciously, your mouth began to smile as you made a fateful decision. One that you hopefully wouldn’t regret and also finally silence Nate fucking Thompson forever.

Swatching tabs on your phone, you opened WhatsApp, the chat with your personal stylist of Prada lurking on top of the list. A determined sigh escaped your parted lips as skillful fingers began to type.

A surprise for Tom and the whole damn world. 

Hey, Clarisse. I’ve decided on the silver dress. Fitting on Friday sounds fine with me xx

“Darling, the pancakes are getting cold“ 

“Coming!“

“Oh god, y/n!“ Diana exclaimed inviting you in her opened arms after Tom helped you out of the thin jacket.

His mom was such a heartwarming personality, always super friendly and now totally obsessed with the thought of becoming a grandma. Twice.

“You’re glowing, darling! Pregnancy suits you“ she nearly sobbed, both hands on your shoulders and glassy eyes bathing in the sight of your belly. “I missed you, Diana“ you smiled warmly before the woman beckoned you in the dining room where her wooden table was already richly set, delicious scents coaxing you closer.

“That smells heavenly“ you mused with eyes closed feeling the appetite growing as if the babies had taken a cute little sniff as well. “Thank you, my dear. I am hosting a family dinner for four now after all“ the friendly lady chuckled, satisfied with the outcome of a whole day of stressful cooking. 

The urge to qualify as the perfect grandma-to-be was mighty. 

“Mom, what is that?“ Tom poked her amusedly, arms spread and gesturing towards the about four different meals she had prepared for your visit. A braised chicken alongside a bowl of steaming vegetables, Yorkshire Puddings, a Shepherd’s Pie, kidney pie and her notorious roasted tomato soup adorned the table.

Delicious treats everywhere you looked. 

“Thomas William Hiddleston“ you huffed, hands on your hips and nose scrunched from his rushed comment. 

However, Diana simply began to grin and giggle like a child as Tom’s puzzled gaze met yours, an apology quickly following before he put a chair in place for you to sit down. “I see…“ Diana snickered, a laughter layered in her voice as she leaned over to you. “Someone has properly replaced me“.

“Mom, please?“ Tom pouted cocking his head before the two most important women in his life bursted out in laughter. But as long as you were happy, his heart was as well.

“I am so happy for you, Tom. So proud of the life you’ve built“ she eventually smiled, patting her sons back as she weaved past behind him. Tom’s little smirk was beaming with satisfaction and love. The twins would have a wonderful family to spend time with, be it in Australia, be it here.

How could you have ever wished for something else?

This was the life you always wanted. Those were the people you wished to be around every day and you were ready to fight for it. To expose yourself and proof all those idiots wrong, dazzling them with the perfection of your new life.

“What do you mean you’re sick?” you nearly hollered in the phone, Irene, your personal hair stylist startled to the core. 

“Sorry Arielle but I’m defo stuck in the hotel. I’m feeling like shit” Chris tried to excuse himself after announcing he won’t be attending the premier as originally intended. A cold shiver ran down your spine, fresh fear coming straight from hell.

Your brother promised to be around to provide some emotional support after the the press escapades two months ago. The newfound confidence was thriving within you however, the thought of facing the world like that again still frightened you.

“But- but -but”.

“Shhh, sis. You got his. With or without me” he tried to calm you down, hot tears banging on your eyelids threatening to run free. But you knew there was no going back now. Ridiculous four hours were separating you from the relentless cameras and awkward interviews so there was no time for a mental breakdown even if you felt so powerless again.

Harsh coughs resounded from you phone, proving your brothers sudden indisposition. It wasn’t his fault, absolutely not but nevertheless, you were far from happy about the news. “My fingers are crossed for you. Tom will take good care of you, I’m sure” Chris voice dripped with this apologetic tone before you finally allowed him to say goodbye. 

“I can’t. I can’t do that” you muttered, your foot beginning to tap on the floor in a nervous, staccato fueled by all the messages of people wishing you good luck for tonight.

Chris won’t be coming, you repeated mentally what did absolutely nothing to enhance your quite awful situation. The tight silver dress was pompously lurking in the clothes bag and reminded you of the fateful decision you had made so imprudently while peeing this one damn morning.

Well, shoot.

“Y/n, you will look stunning” Irene smiled coyly, her skilled hands fixing strand after strand in an elaborate updo. “I know, thanks to you. But that’s not it… They hate my persona rather than my looks”. She sighed as heavy tears started to roll down your reddened cheeks, small sobs filling the dressing room. 

You weren’t aware of the nearing strides of your boyfriend whose smile dropped immediately when he laid eyes on your sad face. “Darling? What is wrong?” Tom tried to get a piece of your mind, squatting down to match your eye level with this steel blues. Normally they would remind you of the waves stacking at Aussie shores; your second home.

“I- it’s all fucked up” you whined throwing your hands up in despair, lucky to not have accidentally hit Irene. “What’s fucked up, love? I thought you were quite confident about the event?” the handsome Brit asked, his stubble of a beard gone along with the deserted James Conrad look and fresh aftershave radiating from his flawless skin.

He smelled so good, so alluring. 

No, no. Now wasn’t the time to let yourself get carried away by those pregnancy hormones. 

“Chris is sick”.

“Oh god… I didn’t know, darling. I’m so sorry” his soothing baritone met your eardrums, bare arms wrapping around your body to pull you in a tight hug. It felt like a relief to feel the pressure of him surrounding you, grounding your overstimulated, anxious mind as if by magic.

This man was a healing balm to any prick or itch that was burdening your soul. 

Breaths slowed down again, your hands starting to shake less as your pulse sunk in normal dimensions. “Don’t be. But- but I really don’t know if I can handle it” your voice was a feeble sound, the whimper of a skittish animal.

But that’s what happens after months of being terrorized by Nate and gaining 'special' reputation through boulevard papers…

“Haven’t you seen the post about the paparazzi shot at the airport? No bad blood this time, love” Tom began parting from your body to rest his forehead against yours, almond eyes staring directly in yours leaving you not a single inch to hide your emotions.

“And do know you why?” The rhetorical question hung heavy in the air as a last tear ran down your cheek to pool at the seam of your top. 

“Because you looked genuinely happy. There was no grain of reluctancy in your gorgeous eyes, not a single sign of insecurity. Just the joyful, honest version of yourself and it amazed the people” he continued with this kind of gravel in his lower voice that had you on your knees if not sitting. A gentle thumb drew lavish circles on your neck while those spells of eyes captivated you. 

Perhaps he was right. But your decision had been made nonetheless. A decision Tom didn’t know about just yet. His most recent information was that you would be wearing a wide gown to cover the bump. “Surprise“ you eventually murmured, still unsure whether to feel positive about it again.

Not being able to turn your head due to Irene working her magic you just awkwardly pointed at the dress, wordlessly trying to make Tom understand what it meant. 

“You- are you sure?“ He murmured, eyes still staring at the skin tight gown with its flamboyant train. It would accentuate your baby bump perfectly, no, it would just magically draw all the rapt attention like an alien, hiding nothing. You took in every exited twitch of Tom’s chiseled features and the small shadows Irene’s styling lamp casted beneath those razor sharp cheekbones. 

An approving hum left your lips after you prevailed over your demons, starting to feel comfortable again as your boyfriend’s ocean blue ors sparkled with joyful anticipation. He was ready to present you to the world and so were you; finally having made peace with your past and stronger than ever.

Gosh, maybe those hormones were really doing you dirty but Tom had always have a massive effect on your mood and the time he spent with you was like an intense therapy to your once shattered heart. The love you were harboring for him served as romantic testament. 

“I love you, Tommy“. “God, darling. You have no idea how much you mean to me“ The handsome man smiled peppering two kisses on each side of your cheeks, the salty residue of tears making him lick his lips. This rosy tongue flicking and swirling so freely, silently propelling your thoughts in improper directions.

Tempting idiot.

“Y/n!! Tom!! Look here“ the cameras capturing you as soon as the director had finished his little speech and cleared the red carpet for the first appearance of ‘The Moralizer’s biggest stars.

Of course, you and Tom were to step out first as actors of the two leading roles and in a poor fragment of a second you became the centre of attentions, photographers’s pointers pushing the buttons of cameras relentlessly and eager interviewers’ eyes widening at your prominent bump. 

“You’re doing amazing, love. Show them how perfect our life is“ Tom whispered in your, his trademark charm suiting his godly bone structure so flawlessly. This man was a statuesque Adonis wearing a tailor-made black suit with a light blue dress shirt that matched the blueish undertone in the glitter of your dress.

Intoxicated by the feeling to enjoy this flurry of photographer’s flashlights and the exited yells and screams of fans who were lucky enough to get a ticket for the premiere, you began to marinate in your own position. On his side

Turning to your boyfriend and smiling so blissfully, you leaned over to welcome a gentle kiss on your dark red lips.

People were going crazy, the lighting like experience intensifying until you parted again smiling at each other with nothing but content love. It felt good, natural even as you reminded yourself of Tom’s words to be proud, swankily happy about your life even.

And it worked. At least for now your magic was transmitted.

You somehow stopped caring about whatever hate Nate might spread after this. Your life was about to really get started now and a career on the world’s big screens knocked at your door hence this poor excuse of a man could screw himself.

After a few minutes of posing and showing off your baby bump that was so perfectly highlighted by the silver, glittery Prada piece, Jeff Goldbloom and your other co-stars were making their appearance. Time for you to step forward, indulging in the interviews.

The part you feared even more but Tom’s right grip around your waist sprinkled ease on your face.

“Oh my god! You two look absolutely stunning tonight“ the young lady noted, the camera capturing the three of you from the opposite site. “Thank you“ Tom smiled nodding respectfully what made the woman blush in record time.

Such a handsome boyfriend you had. And he was all yours jealousy whispered in your ear.

“And what a surprise, you two!?“ She continued pointing at your bump, your hands curling around the twins home. Protectively yet proud. Now, it was time to deliver a package to your ex. A juicy package everyone would understand and a last ever wave with a white handkerchief towards his sinking ship.

“Indeed“ you chuckled, taking the mic the exited, friendly lady was handing you, keen on getting more information. “I guess I just found my perfect match and well, love happens“. Greedy eyes widened, the journalist sucking in every word before Tom took over, his seductive voice layered with the undeniable anticipation to become a dad he carried since day one.

“We are happier than ever and this pregnancy is just the greatest gift I ever received. Along this wonderful woman, of course“ he winked in the camera grinning, before pulling you closer against his body. “That is wonderful news! Congratulations!“ The Lady exclaimed, her voice ascending in higher pitches from sheer excitement of being the first to have some details and statements regarding your pregnancy.

“What do you think would Nate Thompson say?“ She suddenly asked, nudging your happiness and resolutions dangerously close to this familiar, cold edge of worries and a macabre hide and seek game. The mic was handed to you once again however, this time your hand was hesitant, shaking for a moment as you struggled to find back.

But Tom was there for you, exactly like he promised.

A soothing arm wrapped around your back, his pointer carefully stroking the side of your arm. Breathing for a second you could feel his energy surging trough your nervous veins, calming them down like benzodiazepines. But good ones, keeping your consciousness sharp and your wit ready.

“You know-“ you began calmer than ever, almost bored of hearing his name “I really stopped caring about his opinion on how I live my life long time ago. Tom is giving me so much more than I ever dreamt of and I hope Nate’s new girlfriend does the same. I wish him all the best but I definitely won’t be looking back anymore“. 

“Sounds like a fair clean break“ the woman turned back to the camera gesturing towards you. “Thank you so much for the quick talk, Tom Hiddleston and y/n Hemsworth. Now enjoy your new movie 'The Moralizer' which is now playing in cinemas all around the world“ she ended the interview before Tom dragged you along to meet the small exclusive line of fans who were all holding out phones, movie posters and pens eagerly waiting for you.

“You are a hell of a woman, did you know that?“ Tom whispered with the most charming smile on his velvet lips, the compliment on your statement dripping like sweet honey from his tongue. Earning a subtle wink and a filthy promise for what would happen after the event, the Brit drowned in your beauty now that you found your confidence again shining even brighter.

Like all the glittering stars in a perfectly clear night sky.

“Tom, Y/n!! A photo please!!“ The fans cried out in sheer excitement as you finally devoted yourselves to the crowd behind the hip-high safety wall.

Together.

“Nothing?“ 

“Nope. Not a single comment“ you chirped after checking the tabloids for any reactions of Nate.

But there were none. You had silenced him once and for all. “God, I am so proud of you, darling. Come and get yourself some cuddles“ Tom cooed wriggling fingers nearing your waist as he threatened you with a tickle attack. 

The screen of you phone stayed bright for a little longer while your gleeful laughter resonated form all four walls of your bedroom, your body writhing and quivering under Tom’s greedy but loving hands. The scent of the exact same pasta he had made when you visited for the first time crept through the door slits. 

All alone and abandoned the bright pink headlines of some of the most influential tabloids presented themselves on the screen of your phone sliding down the mattress…

< Hollywood’s hottest couple expecting their first child - father-to-be Tom Hiddleston “couldn’t be happier“ >

< Y/n Hemsworth pregnant - 'The Moralizer' premiere taking a lovely turn >

thank you for reading and get ready for the epilogue following next Saturday on @holdmytesseract 's blog :)

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[smolvenger]

The Twelve Days (Henry V x fem! Reader Miniseries), Chapter One

Summary: "You, luckiest of girls, are betrothed to none other than the king of England!"

You celebrate the Twelve days- from Christmas to New Year- in your role as queen in an arranged marriage to King Henry V. How will you cope with your new role? And what about your husband?

Warnings: Eventual Smut starting in Part Two, Arranged Marriage, discussions of Sexual Assault but no attacks, impolite courtiers, marriages, families, Henry's codpiece is mentioned and he is an actual dick for a hot second but gets better bc you get to call him out on it.

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Summary: This was inspired by Lucy Worsely's documentary "The Twelve Days of Tudor Christmas" plus some of the tidbits I learned about the reading about royal life in that era. Yes, I know some of these practices come from that era 100 years after Henry V but it's my fic and I can do what I want.

COMMENTS, KUDOS, AND ASKS ABOUT MY WORK ARE APPRECIATED!

Your eyes were drooping, fighting the urge to close them. You fought the urge to yawn at such a sacred space as Midnight Mass. But especially considering the crown on your head and hearing your husband’s slow exhales next to you, you made yourself in the present, listening to the words. At least the chill of the castle chapel and the light touch of the necklace you wore kept you awake.

All of December you had to prepare for the Christmas season with fasting. Even the king, your husband, Henry V had to.

Husband- the word felt new.

Months ago, it was announced suddenly that you had to travel to London. Your parents hugged and kissed you in deep congrats.

“Why, what is it?” you asked.

“Y/N, you’re betrothed!”

“Betrothed!? To whom?”

“You, luckiest of girls, are betrothed to marry none other than the King of England!” your mother cheered.

 Your heart leaped in your chest and the room spun. Were you even awake?

“Henry Bolingbroke? But he’s an old man now and quite sick!” you cried

“No- haven’t you heard? He’s dead and his son, Hal, is the king! Not Henry the Fourth- You’re going to marry Henry the Fifth!” your father explained with excitement.

You had never met him.

You heard all the stories concerning Prince Hal. He was apparently a wild boy- who frequented taverns, placed prostitutes on his lap and wore their favors to jousts, and enjoyed playing pranks with thieves. He could put Bacchus to shame with the chaos he would get into.  For a time, he rarely appeared in court due to preferring his revels late at night with the seedy company and getting drunk. And now this wild, drinking, philandering, troublemaker was not only the new king of England but your husband!

You could hardly speak when you joined the carriage with your parents for your first meeting. The whole ride seemed to last forever and you were sweating beneath your nicest pink dress.

 Your heart was beating as hard as if you were running and you felt sick with nerves entering the palace. There was a flourish with footsteps like a march. The door was open and a loud voice announced: “His royal majesty, Henry the Fifth.”

God, protect me! You thought in terror. You looked it up.

Imagine your delight that it was a young, attractive man. He was clearly sober. Surely better than marrying either an old man or a partying drunkard.

“Lady Y/L/N, I greet you, most fair lady. I bid you welcome,” he said.

“Your majesty,” you replied with a bow along with your parents.

 He offered you his hand and you accepted it. And in yours he placed a little wildflower that you took.

“May I kiss your hand and call you my queen?” he asked politely.

Swallowing, you nodded your head. You reached out your hand and he accepted it, bowing down his head, you saw the combed back curls hidden under his crown. He kissed it lightly.

“It is our advice for the wedding to be as soon as possible. Before the fasting of Advent…and the sooner you have an heir, the better.” An older man, the Chief Justice, suggested.

“Then let it be so,” Henry replied.

An awkward dinner passed and that was that. The next time you would see him would be your wedding day, now set to November.  

Besides, the more cynical side of your brain thought, you were being brought in as no more than a glorified broodmare for England. A pretty accessory for the king. Once you squeezed out a son, you thought, he would toss you away for a mistress. But such thoughts you dared not tell your parents or family who all saw you as the shining star of their family for propelling them to royalty at the price of your maidenhead. And there was one upside to being Queen Consort- it relieved you of the harder choices and responsibilities that any king or any ruler would have, you thought.

November and the Wedding arrived. You couldn’t sleep the night before. You were brought to that same chapel in a pretty white dress befitting a queen. You felt like a child playing dress up. You couldn’t believe that every eye on the country was on you as the bishop placed your hand on Henry’s and made the sign of the cross over you two. The ceremony ended in a daze.

Your stomach churned so much you couldn’t eat much of the feast. You understood what was coming and the horror stories relayed to you from almost every woman you knew. And from the quick glances you had at Henry’s codpiece, it was going to hurt.

 When the whole party followed you finally to your chambers and you were brought to that large stone room with the king’s bed- not your own private room for the queen- you wanted to cry from fear. That same bishop made the sign of the cross again at the bed. Once it was where Henry IV’s lifeless body was placed and now you knew you had to be placed there like a lamb on the altar, awaiting the knife.

 A few ladies in waiting- women of high status you knew you could trust- took off the tiara placed on your head and removed the ring from your finger. A few male servants began to undress Henry. Yet the court, many of whom were men, kept their eyes on you when the ladies moved onto the skirt of your wedding gown. They seemed to watch as one lady in waiting began to lift the skirt, showing some of your leg when…

“Please bring a screen,” the king ordered.

A screen was shuffled in to allow you privacy to change into night clothes. You stepped out, the cold stone floor touching your bare feet as you stood in your shift. You began to shiver.

Henry turned to you.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“Yes, my lord,” you replied.

He took a black fur coat that was draped over a chair and placed it over you. His hands on your shoulders felt warm. He led you to sit on the chair near the writing desk.

“Now the rest of you- please leave the room…and do not stay at the door if you are not the guards…” he then said.

“But your majesty, we must make sure the marriage is consummated. You could at most close the drapes around the bed, but we must make sure you do your duty to your wife. For St. George and the sake of-“

“Yes, that is tradition. But seeing as I am the king now, here is a new one. I ask that all of you leave and go to your own rooms.” Henry protested.

They looked at each other in confusion.

“But how will we know if-“

“I’m sure once we discover she is pregnant, you will know the marriage is consummated. Now leave!”

They bowed their heads and left.

He walked up to you, and you backed off. But he held up a hand.

“Don’t be afraid, my lady,” he offered.

You heard the last footsteps of the courtiers vanish into the hallway. They gossiped and it rang through the halls, until it melted into nothing.

You took it and said, “I know you want me to…to…sleep with you.”

“Well, is that what you want? Do you want me to have you done tonight?” he asked.

“It’s what’s expected of us…” you answered meekly.

He scratched at his cleanly shaven chin.

“But is it what you want?” he asked.

You blinked. His own large hands overpowered your own, but they were soft.

“No…no I don’t want to…I’m not ready yet…” you confessed.

“Then you don’t need to worry. Nothing will happen tonight…” he assured you.

He let your hands go to gesture to a small table where there was a large jug

here- they gave us spiced wine for us to share. Have a cup.”

He poured you a generous amount and you sipped at it.

“You didn’t eat anything at the feast. Would you like me to ask for a plate?” he suggested.

“Yes, my lord.”

He opened the door and whispered to a guard. The coat almost drowned you in it’s size, but it was warm. Like petting the pelt of a black bear. Henry closed the door again.

“Thank you for the cloak…” you said.

“It used to be my father’s. And he was always cold.” He commented.

“My lord …what should I call you?” you asked.

“Henry will do for now…you can call me Harry. Maybe Hal later…what would you like me to call you?”

You gave him the name you wanted to be called and he repeated it.

 The terror of being raped gone, your appetite returned to you. You enjoyed the cup of spiced wine and although the plate of leftovers was tasty despite being cold.

Henry went to the desk full of papers.

“I have some letters to write…you seem tired, Y/N. It was a long day. When you’re done, you can sleep in my bed.”

You glanced at the bed, sitting in it and draping off the black cloak.

“You’re being kind to me, why?” you asked.

Both of you knew that you were now considered property of the most powerful man in the world. He had the right to do whatever he wanted with you whenever he wanted…and he was not doing anything.

“Because I don’t want to be hated. This was forced on me as much as on you. I can at least make your life my wife not a misery. I pity you, I guess,” he explained.

You settled into the sheets, resting your head against a large, round pillow placed before the square ones.

“Henry where are you going to sleep tonight?” you asked.

“I’ll crawl in later. Don’t be nervous- but it’s big enough. I won’t be able to touch you…” he said,

“What if I never want you to touch me?” you asked curiously.

He turned to you and got his own cup of wine, raising it.

“I think I know of an abbey that will let me in. I’ll become bald and fat and join them,” he said with a smile.

You fell asleep deeply and quickly. Once you woke up, you were ushered in.

And here you were today. In a far grander chapel than the one you were used to. But instead of praying with your family, you were leaning your head down to pray next to your husband. He gave you a kiss on the hand as a good night before your servants ushered you back to your separate rooms and beds left for a royal and still unconsummated marriage.

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

The First Day of Christmas

The first day was a feast. It was a smaller party away from the prying eyes of the court. The party consisted of you, Henry, his three brothers, and his “favorites”- the Chief Justice, Warwick, and Lord Exeter. The room was a smaller stone room with a long walkway and a window to the cold outside world. You missed your family and celebrated the twelve days of Christmas with them. If only you knew it would be your last celebration together then! Now, here you were with a new family you were not at all familiar with- and the only woman at the table too!

You were amazed that the table was decorated with a peacock and a swan as if they were not killed but frozen in their place as they glazed over a pond. Before you placed a large Mince pie. You looked over and saw that there was his crest along with HR- Henry Rex or King Henry. It was so large you wondered why the table didn’t break from the weight of it!

The King was served first, the tenderest choice of slices of pie. Though there was a variety of meat.

“Did you miss eating meat all month, Henry?” you asked.

He nodded his head, “yes, I did. I almost forgot the taste of it and cheese. May I ask, Y/N, have you ever tried eel before?”

“I have not,” you said.

He poked his plate closer.

“Here- it’s my favorite fish to try on Christmas Day. Different from any other I’ve had. Give it a taste, tell me what you think!”

You poked your fork into it. It was light, but firm and with a little sweetness.

“It’s not bad!” you commented.

You felt a poke and saw it was one of the king’s brothers, John. A young, handsome man with cheekbones like his brother and a crop of soft, dark brown hair.

“My lady, save room on your plate. They’re about to present The Boar…”

“Will they sing the carol The Boar’s Head? I like that one!” you replied, nearly popping in your seat.

You heard your husband confirm “They will.”

But you saw his face turn white. His blue eyes lowered to the plate before him.

Soon a group of servants in fine robes and large hats with feathers walked in with a large platter over their shoulders with a roasted boar on it. One young man in green stepped forward, exhaled deep in his belly, and began to sing that jaunty tune in a bright baritone.

“The Boar’s head as I understand is the rarest dish in all the land!”

You smiled and tapped your foot to the beat of the familiar song. Everyone was nodding along, gazing at how the Boar’s head they brought had oranges in its eyes. The gold on it’s tusks gleamed from the candlelight. By the third verse you noticed the whole table was smiling…except Henry.

There was applause and it was brought in front of his plate and carved.

“Here, my lord, the choicest meats for you!” the servant boasted.

“Save some of these choice meats for the others- especially the queen. She is new here and should be welcomed.” He requested.

You glanced and you nodded your head in thanks. A tender part of the pork was cut off and brought to your plate.

“Thank you though…what troubles you, Henry?” you asked.

Since the feast was more private, you did not have to call him “my lord” but his name. That was one relief on your part.

“The Boar’s Head was name of the tavern I used to frequent…” he confessed.

His brothers perked up, listening. John’s jaw tightened.

“I heard about your youth, Henry. Do you miss it?” you asked innocently.

Part of you flinched, perhaps that was too personal. Even among his brothers. But you could hardly believe those same stories again.

“If I must be honest, a little…I let it go. I banished those from that tavern away from me….” He said.

There was silence for a minute. What could you say?

“It was the right thing to do, I think. But I imagine it was hard. But it is your right to banish a bad influence.” You reasoned gently.

You saw his fist was clamped in agony. There was a clanking of forks and knives as the others continued to eat.  Gently, you placed your hand over it. You felt it relax beneath you.

“Have you tried the boar, husband?” you asked.

“I…I haven’t.”

“It’s delicious. You should eat at least a little…it helps with nerves if I recall correctly” you said.

There was a shared look and you saw him smile, realizing that this time the roles were reversed. He began to stab his fork into the boat meat and eat it.

Although you were quite full, you saw there was still plenty of food on the table by the time the servants arrived to pick it up.

“What happens to the leftovers?” you asked curiously.

“They’re doles,” John explained. “We take them and distribute them to the poor outside the castle waiting for it…”

You turned to Henry and the servants “may I…may I help distribute them?” you asked.

Heads turned to you.

“You wish to hand out food to those without name?” Henry asked.

“Yes, I do.”

“But they’re only peasants,” he responded.

“They’re our people. They aren’t animals. If we’re good to them, they’ll follow us even more,” you replied.

“Majesty, it is not the usual fashion for you to do so…” the Lord of Exeter protested.

“I’d…I’d like to help. It’s Christmastide, after all. It’s right to do. It’s the feast of Christ’s Birth. It’s what He would do,” you explained.

“You aren’t wrong,” Henry said.

What was the good of being part of the most powerful family in the country if you couldn’t use it to help anyone? Besides, you had to count yourself extremely lucky that you had a large feast in a warm palace with servants to cater to your every whim. That was more than so many could dream of.

They looked to the king, who nodded.

“You shall…” he permitted.

He turned to the servants.

“Ask the ladies in waiting to give her a cloak for warmth. Make sure she isn’t harmed,” he asked the servants.

“Thank you, Henry” you said.

There was a small urge inside you. From how gentle he was to you on your wedding night, to how he was the opposite of what you expected, and now how he insisted you be fed equal to him and had permission to do what you wanted, a tenderness overcame you for Henry. You wanted to take his face and give him a kiss on the cheek from everything he had done- yes, even despite the peasant comment. But it would be too forward even in front of the smaller party. It was an action reserved for the privacy of husband and wife in their chambers. In gratitude, you merely clutched his hand and squeezed it and he let you.

You walked out, not noticing how Henry’s smile followed you out.

Once you were bundled up, you held a large plate full of meat from the board and walked outside. Hundreds of peasants, some in mere rags despite the cold, were shocked.

“Make way for the queen! Approach her one by one!” guards barked.

The first was a young woman who seemed to be your age. One good look at her and you realized at a different time or if different choices were made, you could have been the one begging at the gate. The only real difference between you two was the clothes on your back. It chilled you as you handed out meat and she bowed before scurrying off.

Now these people had to bow before you and some even knelt with reverence as if you weren’t flesh and mortality as they. But you leaned down, and with some tools, gave some rations of meat to them before they moved onto the servant with bits of the pie. Then another servant who kept the beef and other choices of beef. Some were amazed that Henry served crayfish, eels, and porpoise at his feast and that there were leftovers, rushing to sample what they tasted like just from curiosity.

The smiles on their faces seeing you and the hundreds of “thank you’s” from their faces warmed your heart. Seeing each walk away with something on their plate, you sent out a prayer for their safe return to their homes, food intact.

Little did you know that from his window, Henry watched you for a while. Something moving inside of him to see you smile as you handed out the doles.

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

The Third Day of Christmas

The snow was crisp, clean, and even the next day. Already your ladies in waiting were watching it as it fell outside in puffy drifts. It was late afternoon and finally there was some wintertime weather.

“I think the St. Stephen feast was better than the Christmas one!” one said.

“I have to agree with you on that,” you agreed.

You walked over to return to your sewing circle. You passed by a spinning wheel that- like with the rest of the castle- was decorated with holly and ivy. The vines prevented the wheel from turning practically-there was to be no work for anyone on the Twelve Days of Christmas except the busy servants of royalty.

“I don’t know if I can even eat at another feast!” another lady sighed.

“I second that!” you said, looking down at the embroidery you began.

“You will have to,” came a voice from a distance away.

All of you stood up to see before you Warwick. Heads bowed in courtesy. When it got closer to evening, one male servant or courtier would arrive to you to give you an account of how Henry’s day went.

“Your majesty, I came to give you the annual report of the King’s Day- he spent the morning riding as usual, following by some celebratory hunting with bow and arrow. He then paid respects to Richard and his father’s grave before taking some time to study.”

“Very well and good fares my lord, king, and husband, I am glad,” you replied dutifully.

“And speaking of feasting, there is something important he asks…”

You folded your hands in front of you.

“What is it?”

He took in a deep breath.

“The King has asked to dine with you tonight in your quarters.”

There was a silence that fell along the ladies. All of their eyes got big. You looked among them and then shrugged.

“Oh! That is all- that’s alright. He may!” you answered with casual cheerfulness.

There was a burst of giggles from one lady that she immediately silenced putting a hand over her mouth. They all stared at you.

“What…what is it…what…what does this mean?” you asked.

“You don’t know…” Warwick asked.

“I don’t know…”

He lowered his head and turned pink. One lady went over to you.

“When you accept the king’s invitation to dinner…it’s expected that you…bed him right after. The king is actually asking you to bed him tonight…” she whispered to you.

You looked back at her in amazement and then at Warwick. Then at the ladies.

“Do you…change your mind, my lady?” Warwick asked.

Shoulders tightening, hands clutching beneath their folded position in front of you, you looked at him and then nodded.

“He…he may…”

[ladycamillewrites]

This is my new obsession. No mercy 😍

Oh. My. God. @smolvenger THIS IS SO GOOD!! 💕

The language, the way they act, feel obliged to traditions (ok, not Hal when he sent the people away lol love him for that) and the way you paint this long gone period is simply awesome 👀

“But is it what you want?” he asked.

You blinked. His own large hands overpowered your own, but they were soft.

“No…no I don’t want to…I’m not ready yet…” you confessed.

“Then you don’t need to worry. Nothing will happen tonight…” he assured you.

My God he's so cute and caring 🥹

The first was a young woman who seemed to be your age. One good look at her and you realized at a different time or if different choices were made, you could have been the one begging at the gate. The only real difference between you two was the clothes on your back.

Her feelings!! How she feels connected to her... what a moment 😱 I love it!!!

Cant wait to read part 2 tonight

[ladycamillewrites]

𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑'𝖘 𝕭𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖙

∙ Thomas Sharpe x f!reader

𝖆/𝖓: written for @springdandelixn ‘s spring sleepover project. Happy Birthday darling 🖤

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: 18+ dark fic!! non/dub-con smut, Crimson Peak ghosts, forced marriage, manipulation, y/n held hostage

“Lucille?” 

“Over here my dear. Look at the foxes hiding in the northern flower meadows” her voice lured you towards the great dining hall. Allerdale Hall was huge, almost as big as your fathers country estate but with way more pretty wildlife around. 

To hell with your father’s sick hunting-addiction. Your studies were more important and surely the more peaceful.

Rushing over to join your friend at the window, your eyes instantly widened in joy at the sight of a vixen with two cubs. They seemed overly entertained by the growing flowers while the mother had her hands full with watching her boisterous offspring.

“They are incredibly adorable, are they not?“ You chirped, barely able to suppress your excitement about the spring season here in Scotland.

Thanks to Lucille and her brother Thomas you were invited to spend as much time as you wanted in the mansion of your friend you once got to know at your families annual garden festivities. Someone brought Lucille along and well, the spark of sympathy was instantly lit. 

You’ve known her for quite a while. Two wonderful years regarding the regular letters and many visits. 

If there only wasn’t Thomas Sharpe; the unfairly fine baronet who always watched you from the shadows with his oceanic orbs shining like the full moon. The hunger in his eyes elicited a cocktail of fear, submission and unexplainable arousal. 

Most improper things. 

However, it was wedding season and your father might wanted to introduce you to some gentlemen when you’d be back. Hoping you would finally agree to marriage. It was a gift and a curse at the same time to be allowed to pick your husband yourself. 

Though, you were curious whether Thomas had found a fiancé.

“Tomorrow we will spot the grey seals at the bay, I’m most certain of it” Lucille smiled patting your shoulder before she weaves past your body.

The smell of Bergamot invaded your nostrils as you looked after your friend, unsure about the reason of her back-off. 

It was Thomas donning an emerald vest with a puffy white shirt underneath, the gold fob watch on proud display. It shone equally as mysterious as those almond eyes.

“How is the wedding season going for you so far, darling?“ He purred, chin hoisted when you opened your silent mouth, unsure about what to reply.

“I- I, erm my father, luckily, allows me to decide when I wish to get married“ you began, watching in awe as his eyes narrowed, knuckles crackling as he pressed them together in a silent predatory display.

Lucille stepped back in your sight, smiling richly to coax whatever your final answer was. The siblings looked not too alike, you noticed as your eyes tried to hold on to something other than Thomas’ expectant demeanor.

“-and also whom. But I rather wait until next year since I am deeply invested in my studies of northern wildlife“ you finished with a meek smile, hoping that your explanation would suffice. Lucille herself wasn’t married although she was older than you and already exceeded the marriageable age. 

Fresh confusion was written all across your face as Thomas nodded at his sister, took a small black box from her and approached you with black leather boots hitting the dull parquet. Nervous, you tugged a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze shifting to squint at the flowering poppies bathing in the dazzling sun.

However, you flinched when the baronet suddenly cleared his throat, attractive bone structure directed at you when he opened the box, drawing your attention. “Would you do me the honor then, y/n?“ His baritone resounded against the old walls of his mansion, leaving your heart miss a beat in utter shock. 

Not knowing where to put your hands, you clasped them together, trembling fists resting in front of your heavy chest. “Thomas, I- I don’t know what to say that comes all so…abruptly“ your stammer sounded rueful, yet reasonably composed and bewaring the appropriate courtesy.

Again, anxious eyes flickered over to Lucille, her face suddenly all darkened with a thousand words of diktat sitting on her tongue. Where was your friend gone? The woman who told you about the different groups of deer visiting her gardens?

“Your father would surely be content with closer business relations, wouldn’t he?“ Thomas said sternly, leaving you no metaphorical room to breathe with the only relevant leverage held against you. You would most certainly do anything for the man you loved most. And Thomas knew.

Forcing an awkward smile, your trembling hand reached out to carefully close the box with the ring that would grant his owner the title of Lady Sharpe. “Please, do not take this as an insult because it most certainly is not“ Tomas' piercing gaze darted up to meet yours “But I would prefer to wait until the next season as I don’t yet feel ready for such a momentous step“. 

Silence. 

Scoffing, Thomas turned away from you, the cool scent of him blew in your direction from the brusque move.

Serious unease started to settle in your veins, poisoning your brain with the carnal urge for freedom. To breathe fresh air. Alone. At least for a moment.

“Excuse me…“ you whispered, sweaty fingertips raising the skirt of your dress to make your way down the stairs.

“Don’t you think my machines would be of great use in your father’s gold mines overseas?“ The deep pitch got you to stop and pause. Your own agitated breathing the only thing audible in the huge dining room as you failed to spot Lucille.

There was only Thomas, his ocean blue orbs glinting across his shoulder as he desultorily looked back at you. “Thomas, I beg you. This was by no means a rejection. I’m just asking you for some time to finish my studies“. Your voice was reduced until every word sounded like a plea.

The self-confident woman had already left Allerdale Hall, it seemed. 

“I suggest you re-think your choice, darling“ he purred with a freeze like a winter storm, cold thrills descending your vertebrae. You didn’t dare to move nevertheless, muscles tense and ready to run. “Either that or you won’t ever leave this house“.

And you ran, muttering an unnecessary “Apologies“ as hasty legs carried you towards the staircase. That was when you started to notice a darkness, watching the curtains being pulled closed as if by witchcraft. 

Panic spread in your system, hands clasped onto the handle as you hurled yourself down the stairs. “Don’t leave“ a jarring voice breathed, causing you to stop mid-stairs, your head turning in slow motion. You did not want to know who else was living in this house right now however, the voice pierced straight into your consciousness. 

Gasping like a child fearing death you stared into the crimson face of what seemed like a ghost, slender limbs blocking the nearby window. With a cry you turned around, pacing downwards to the main door only to cry out harder when a second one of those horrific creatures blocked.

“Staaayyyyy“ they breathed in a terrific choir, filling your face with naked horror.

“I- I’m going to d-die. I’m going to be killed by ghosts“ you muttered, a stressed out brain trying everything to come up with a way out.

Turning on the spot like a cursed ballerina in a music box, you eventually spotted a single door that wasn’t yet blocked by those red, howling creatures. An exit you prayed when shaking hands twisted the doorknob. 

Slamming the heavy wooden door shut behind you, your head dropped against it with an echoing thud. Candle light flickered behind you, a large, elaborately designed closet was the only thing you were able to locate when hurling in. 

You were alone. In safety.

“I wasn’t jesting earlier, my dear“ an amused chuckle found your ears, the unique baritone making it past the rushing sound of hot blood in your head.

Thomas.

Panting heavily, you turned around, body too wasted to step back out and face those living nightmares again.

The tall, lean figure of the baronet stepped out of the shadows, a smug smirk resting on his thin lips. He looked handsome in candle light, you mused, burned out and incapable of summoning more fear. 

“What- What are they?“ You asked instead, slowly stepping backwards, deeper into the room that turned out to be a regal bedroom. Those suffering moans resounding against the wood were too much while their ugly image ghosted around in your head.

Clicking his tongue, Thomas started to circle you like a starved shark, stern eyes traveling your spent body. “Ghosts. And they shall only be obedient to the Sharpes“. 

“Let me go, please. I swear I won’t tell a word about this curse“ you pleaded, feeling dizzy from following the spheroid course of Thomas steps. 

“It is only to be felt as a curse as long as you are not my wife. Therefore I shall ask again before my courtesy is the next thing to turn crimson“ he spat, every syllable weirdly monotonous, unfitting the usual behavior of the fine baronet. He felt like a changed man, even looked different with onyx curls splattered across his forehead instead of being neatly combed back. 

You swallowed hard, gathering the boldness to state your point of view one last time, hoping he would somehow understand. Whyever he should now.

“Thomas, I cannot deny that you’re a handsome man of honor and overly gentlemanly but I beg you to rather propose next year“.

Watching his eyes fall shut and theatrically reopen as if drenched in pitch, you felt your hands and feet turn cold, any signs of a happy ending rusting and crumbling.

Frozen, you endured his approach, potent hands gripping your shoulders. At first gentle but then he turned you around swiftly, forcing your terrified eyes to stare at the door. Resistance was in vain.

“Oh darling, I’m afraid my friends would miss you so terribly that they cannot wait for a promised return that’s worth nothing more than hollow words“ he whispered in your ear, leaning so close that his chin brushed your temple. 

A wicked grin spread on Thomas’ face as he felt you writing underneath his grip, whining like a child as crimson arms reached through the tiny gap at each side of the door. “Thomas, please stop“. “Think of only how content your father would be to have the source of revolutionary machines in his family, huh?“.

And you yielded, screwing your eyes shut as you screamed what he wanted to hear so desperately. “ Alright, I will marry you“.

Instantly, the grip around your shoulder blades softened, transformed in a weirdly pleasant caress. “Good girl“ Thomas cooed from behind, blithely watching the goosebumps paint your pale neck. “Now give me your hand“.

Reluctantly you turned, reaching out to the emerald fabric of his open hanging vest only for him to slap away your hand. A venomous gaze stiffened your back, twitching brows wordlessly forcing you to correct your mistake.

Now offering your left hand, the adequate one, he grabbed it, making it look ridiculously small as he slipped a heavy ruby ring on your finger. 

You paused to stare at it, sick of the realization you had lost a year of juvenile freedom to a sinister, fine baronet. Under duress, not voluntarily.

“May I leave now? I need to apprise my father of this... well, situation“ you spoke again, the bitterness of a intertwined ‘are you happy now?’ swinging within your tone. But Thomas only chuckled, freeing himself of the vest to toss it on the fur carpet. 

“Do you truly think of me as this imbecile, my darling fiancé?“ the last word hit you with the force of a southern coal train. 

Shaking your head in a broken submission, your promptly tried to adjust your words, letting you sound more trustworthy. But the chance was long gone, rotten like the ghosts lurking behind the door. It glued your mouth shut instead. 

Slowly he stepped closer, reaching behind your back as you felt long digits loosen your beige corset. “You think of this marriage as nothing but a business deal“ he began, hot air from his voodooed lungs meeting your sweaty cleavage. Biting your lips you stayed silent, more or less eager for his continuation.

“Well, in fact it is so much more. You are the most gorgeous woman I ever laid eyes on, y/n. You will bear me beautiful heirs to my title“. Your heart contracted violently, fighting against the choice your helpless mind had made. The irrevocable choice forcing you to actually step in the role of a faithful wife. 

“I- what? What are you doing?“ You stammered, trying to hold on to the heavy fabric of your dress as it started to slide down your shoulders, threatening to leave you in only undergarments. 

Growling like a wolf, the baronet gritted his teeth when annoyed hands pulled it out of your grasp. “Please“ you whined, covering yourself with two quivering arms while you knew damn well that your fate was sealed. “You shan’t never hide what’s to be mine. Understood?“ He barked however, silent and graceful while hasty hands unbuckled his black breeches. 

Slowly, swallowing your pride, you let your arms hang down, eyes fixated on the flickering candle behind your fiancé. You would tell him to order more of them, you thought, they smelled nice. 

“Now, this cock won’t suck itself“.

Disbelieving, widened eyes darted back at him, insecurity smeared all across your face like neon lotion. 

Thomas’ brow was raised, his potent jaw bobbed forward in bloody impatience. “Once I had you, no other man will ever touch you. I’m just making sure my fiancé won’t renegade on her promise“ he stated as sober as well water, the poison within a stark black swirl. 

Succumbing to your fate, you dropped to your knees, staring at his manhood that twitched in lusty anticipation. “I- I’ve never…“ you mumbled, awkwardly curling your fingers around the hot shaft. He was huge, bigger than your housemaid had told you men were. 

You didn’t know whether his sympathy for you was feigned or not as Thomas told you how to wrap your lips around the tip and use your tongue to bring him satisfaction until he would thrust into your mouth.

And how you should let him.

Then you began to pleasure him, swallowing hot saliva around his wide girth until you heard him moan and grunt above you, blueish veins straining his neck when his head lolled back. It was a sinful sound, radiating pure masculinity and drenching your panties, if you wanted it to or not. 

Thomas was incredibly handsome, you couldn’t deny his charms. So you gave in trying to focus on breathing as he started to fuck your mouth. Knuckles turned white from the strong grip around the edge of the bed when wolfish growls and curses left his parted lips. 

You felt torn as he suddenly pulled out, hand still buried in your hair to yank you back on your feet. “No“ you babbled, feeling the burn of your scalp wandering down to infect your gut. You were not ready for what was to come. 

“What was that, pet?“ 

“I- I don’t want to“ your whisper felt pathetic. “You do not wish to be a good, obedient wife?“ Thomas hissed through gritted teeth, the blue in his eyes drowning you like a relentless ocean, features sharpened by the candle light. 

Dragging his face in a faux pout the sinister baronet mocked you “I assumed you wanted to see the grey seals tomorrow, darling. We could go together…“ he purred, gradually lowering you onto the duvet of his big bed. “Would my pretty fiancé like that?“.

You stared in his eyes, biting the inside of your cheek until a taste of copper was the product of your fear. “I’d love that, Thomas“ you forced yourself to say, nails digging in the red fabric gathered by your sides. 

A content smile curled his lips before a strong knee pressed between your legs, unfazed by any resistance. “If you are good for me…we’ll go“ he snarled, sliding back down to hook a finger in the waistband of your panties, the undergarment ripping in no time under his swift pull. 

Gasping, your upper body shot up, protesting against the man who stared at your naked cunt as if it was a box of gems he craved to possess and lock behind metal doors. “Thomas, please don’t“ a whine that erupted directly form your heart left him entertained, ignorant fingertips spreading your lips. 

“As I said, darling. Without some kind of assurance, words are rendered nothing but mere sounds“. 

“But why does it have to be like that?“

A big hand came closer as he crawled back up, pressing against your breasts to keep you glued to the mattress. New terror was born in your eyes, fading into absent-mindedness as you felt him drag his cock along your fold, chuckling to himself. 

He would take me either way you thought, trying to accept the burden that was the title of Lady Sharpe. You would have happily married him.

Next year though.

“Fuck, look at you. All wet like a whore yet so innocent“ you frowned at his words, eyes screwed shut to await the inevitable intrusion. “Please be gentle“ you heard yourself mutter, shocked by the taste of complete submission on your tongue. 

“Ah, ah! Eyes on me. I want to watch you as I make you my wife“ Thomas demanded, dropping on his elbow, needy cock lined up with your pussy. The tingle of his loose curls against your collarbone was a poor distraction to the fiery burn as he breached you, growling at the dark of his chamber. 

It felt unlike anything you had ever imagined, the thick ridges of his big cock stretching you beyond your limits.

Whining underneath him, palms pressed against the puffy shirt, lips begged him to pause until he did. “G-Gods… you feel p-perfect. So tight“ his husky moans were needles pricking your cheek as you felt him twitch inside you, the moment of pause weirdly fading the pain into pleasure. 

Until he pulled out, hips slapping against your ass when he began to pound into you, mercy far beneath his carnal needs. “Thomas, I- I can’t“ you whimpered silently, staggered breaths interrupting your senseless plea.

But he didn’t say a word, instead biting his rosy lip from the sheer pleasure your hesitant body bestowed on him. He looked feral, the collected, analyzing baronet who used to make nice business with your dad now hidden behind a black out curtain.

Darkness engulfed you when the candle finally died, leaving Thomas the only thing to hold onto in the cursed mansion that was now yours.

And so you did, clawing your nails in your fiancé’s muscular back, praying for the candle to be magically lit up again. To have mercy on your heart while Thomas’ relentless cock blanketed your body in unfamiliar ecstasy until he came, spilling his hot seed deep inside your core what forced you to followed him, chanting his name in your own crimson peak. 

tags (feel free to ignore if it's not your genre) : @coldnique @gigglingtigger @muddyorbs @gigglingtigger @smolvenger @toozmanykids @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl

[muddyorbsblr]

A venomous gaze stiffened your back, twitching brows wordlessly forcing you to correct your mistake.

Goddamn like I know that I shouldn't find this hot and yet here we are 🥵😮‍💨

It was a sinful sound, radiating pure masculinity and drenching your panties, if you wanted it to or not. 

Bestie the way I heard this in my head is making me dizzy in the best possible way WHEW--

“Ah, ah! Eyes on me. I want to watch you as I make you my wife“

This line may have just deceased me and then made sure that I wasn't going anywhere so it put me six whole meters under 🥵🫠

I've always HC'd Thomas Sharpe as a soft boi stuck in a shitty situation unable to see a way out but this is an amazing take on him. To not only have him be in the situation but also be the instigator of said situation and actually go so far as to coerce the woman he's chosen would be, dare I say it, a natural graduation from his previous position in the movie had he chosen to go down the darker route.

And then to have Lucille be the bait for the woman he's chosen?? Genius. I love how their positions in their operation reversed in this. And also how the ghosts in the manor are tied to the Sharpes? I just completely screamed at that like damn--

Dark stories generally aren't my cup of tea but I had complete faith that even though I knew this ultimately wouldn't have a happy ending for the reader, I would still enjoy reading it and I wouldn't leave the story with my stomach churning because of the predicament she found herself in, and also I knew 100% that the smut would be smutting even if it was dub/non-con. And goddamn was I right, that smut had me reaching to guzzle down my water 🥵🫠

I needed to stare at the wall for a good few minutes after this bc bestie this had me questioning myself with how hot I found it like honestly the pretty Victorian boy really does it for me even when he's being a whole villain WHEW

This was so amazingly well done and I already know that I'd 100% read dark fics from you any day of the week aaaaaa 🫠💖

[ladycamillewrites]

*crying happy tears*

Thank you so much for all those kind words I don't really know what to say - thank youuu💜

haha yes, I went down the “what if he embraced the darkness instead of allowing it to torture him“-road 🙃 I'm suuuper glad you liked this villain-variant of our soft scared boiii !!!

Lucille was indeed a good bait and with the ghosts under his command as a fucked up family legacy... what could possibly go wrong? 😵

Thank you so so much my dear 💕 I'll defo tag you in any future dark!fics then

[ladycamillewrites]

𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑'𝖘 𝕭𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖙

∙ Thomas Sharpe x f!reader

𝖆/𝖓: written for @springdandelixn ‘s spring sleepover project. Happy Birthday darling 🖤

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: 18+ dark fic!! non/dub-con smut, Crimson Peak ghosts, forced marriage, manipulation, y/n held hostage

“Lucille?” 

“Over here my dear. Look at the foxes hiding in the northern flower meadows” her voice lured you towards the great dining hall. Allerdale Hall was huge, almost as big as your fathers country estate but with way more pretty wildlife around. 

To hell with your father’s sick hunting-addiction. Your studies were more important and surely the more peaceful.

Rushing over to join your friend at the window, your eyes instantly widened in joy at the sight of a vixen with two cubs. They seemed overly entertained by the growing flowers while the mother had her hands full with watching her boisterous offspring.

“They are incredibly adorable, are they not?“ You chirped, barely able to suppress your excitement about the spring season here in Scotland.

Thanks to Lucille and her brother Thomas you were invited to spend as much time as you wanted in the mansion of your friend you once got to know at your families annual garden festivities. Someone brought Lucille along and well, the spark of sympathy was instantly lit. 

You’ve known her for quite a while. Two wonderful years regarding the regular letters and many visits. 

If there only wasn’t Thomas Sharpe; the unfairly fine baronet who always watched you from the shadows with his oceanic orbs shining like the full moon. The hunger in his eyes elicited a cocktail of fear, submission and unexplainable arousal. 

Most improper things. 

However, it was wedding season and your father might wanted to introduce you to some gentlemen when you’d be back. Hoping you would finally agree to marriage. It was a gift and a curse at the same time to be allowed to pick your husband yourself. 

Though, you were curious whether Thomas had found a fiancé.

“Tomorrow we will spot the grey seals at the bay, I’m most certain of it” Lucille smiled patting your shoulder before she weaves past your body.

The smell of Bergamot invaded your nostrils as you looked after your friend, unsure about the reason of her back-off. 

It was Thomas donning an emerald vest with a puffy white shirt underneath, the gold fob watch on proud display. It shone equally as mysterious as those almond eyes.

“How is the wedding season going for you so far, darling?“ He purred, chin hoisted when you opened your silent mouth, unsure about what to reply.

“I- I, erm my father, luckily, allows me to decide when I wish to get married“ you began, watching in awe as his eyes narrowed, knuckles crackling as he pressed them together in a silent predatory display.

Lucille stepped back in your sight, smiling richly to coax whatever your final answer was. The siblings looked not too alike, you noticed as your eyes tried to hold on to something other than Thomas’ expectant demeanor.

“-and also whom. But I rather wait until next year since I am deeply invested in my studies of northern wildlife“ you finished with a meek smile, hoping that your explanation would suffice. Lucille herself wasn’t married although she was older than you and already exceeded the marriageable age. 

Fresh confusion was written all across your face as Thomas nodded at his sister, took a small black box from her and approached you with black leather boots hitting the dull parquet. Nervous, you tugged a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze shifting to squint at the flowering poppies bathing in the dazzling sun.

However, you flinched when the baronet suddenly cleared his throat, attractive bone structure directed at you when he opened the box, drawing your attention. “Would you do me the honor then, y/n?“ His baritone resounded against the old walls of his mansion, leaving your heart miss a beat in utter shock. 

Not knowing where to put your hands, you clasped them together, trembling fists resting in front of your heavy chest. “Thomas, I- I don’t know what to say that comes all so…abruptly“ your stammer sounded rueful, yet reasonably composed and bewaring the appropriate courtesy.

Again, anxious eyes flickered over to Lucille, her face suddenly all darkened with a thousand words of diktat sitting on her tongue. Where was your friend gone? The woman who told you about the different groups of deer visiting her gardens?

“Your father would surely be content with closer business relations, wouldn’t he?“ Thomas said sternly, leaving you no metaphorical room to breathe with the only relevant leverage held against you. You would most certainly do anything for the man you loved most. And Thomas knew.

Forcing an awkward smile, your trembling hand reached out to carefully close the box with the ring that would grant his owner the title of Lady Sharpe. “Please, do not take this as an insult because it most certainly is not“ Tomas' piercing gaze darted up to meet yours “But I would prefer to wait until the next season as I don’t yet feel ready for such a momentous step“. 

Silence. 

Scoffing, Thomas turned away from you, the cool scent of him blew in your direction from the brusque move.

Serious unease started to settle in your veins, poisoning your brain with the carnal urge for freedom. To breathe fresh air. Alone. At least for a moment.

“Excuse me…“ you whispered, sweaty fingertips raising the skirt of your dress to make your way down the stairs.

“Don’t you think my machines would be of great use in your father’s gold mines overseas?“ The deep pitch got you to stop and pause. Your own agitated breathing the only thing audible in the huge dining room as you failed to spot Lucille.

There was only Thomas, his ocean blue orbs glinting across his shoulder as he desultorily looked back at you. “Thomas, I beg you. This was by no means a rejection. I’m just asking you for some time to finish my studies“. Your voice was reduced until every word sounded like a plea.

The self-confident woman had already left Allerdale Hall, it seemed. 

“I suggest you re-think your choice, darling“ he purred with a freeze like a winter storm, cold thrills descending your vertebrae. You didn’t dare to move nevertheless, muscles tense and ready to run. “Either that or you won’t ever leave this house“.

And you ran, muttering an unnecessary “Apologies“ as hasty legs carried you towards the staircase. That was when you started to notice a darkness, watching the curtains being pulled closed as if by witchcraft. 

Panic spread in your system, hands clasped onto the handle as you hurled yourself down the stairs. “Don’t leave“ a jarring voice breathed, causing you to stop mid-stairs, your head turning in slow motion. You did not want to know who else was living in this house right now however, the voice pierced straight into your consciousness. 

Gasping like a child fearing death you stared into the crimson face of what seemed like a ghost, slender limbs blocking the nearby window. With a cry you turned around, pacing downwards to the main door only to cry out harder when a second one of those horrific creatures blocked.

“Staaayyyyy“ they breathed in a terrific choir, filling your face with naked horror.

“I- I’m going to d-die. I’m going to be killed by ghosts“ you muttered, a stressed out brain trying everything to come up with a way out.

Turning on the spot like a cursed ballerina in a music box, you eventually spotted a single door that wasn’t yet blocked by those red, howling creatures. An exit you prayed when shaking hands twisted the doorknob. 

Slamming the heavy wooden door shut behind you, your head dropped against it with an echoing thud. Candle light flickered behind you, a large, elaborately designed closet was the only thing you were able to locate when hurling in. 

You were alone. In safety.

“I wasn’t jesting earlier, my dear“ an amused chuckle found your ears, the unique baritone making it past the rushing sound of hot blood in your head.

Thomas.

Panting heavily, you turned around, body too wasted to step back out and face those living nightmares again.

The tall, lean figure of the baronet stepped out of the shadows, a smug smirk resting on his thin lips. He looked handsome in candle light, you mused, burned out and incapable of summoning more fear. 

“What- What are they?“ You asked instead, slowly stepping backwards, deeper into the room that turned out to be a regal bedroom. Those suffering moans resounding against the wood were too much while their ugly image ghosted around in your head.

Clicking his tongue, Thomas started to circle you like a starved shark, stern eyes traveling your spent body. “Ghosts. And they shall only be obedient to the Sharpes“. 

“Let me go, please. I swear I won’t tell a word about this curse“ you pleaded, feeling dizzy from following the spheroid course of Thomas steps. 

“It is only to be felt as a curse as long as you are not my wife. Therefore I shall ask again before my courtesy is the next thing to turn crimson“ he spat, every syllable weirdly monotonous, unfitting the usual behavior of the fine baronet. He felt like a changed man, even looked different with onyx curls splattered across his forehead instead of being neatly combed back. 

You swallowed hard, gathering the boldness to state your point of view one last time, hoping he would somehow understand. Whyever he should now.

“Thomas, I cannot deny that you’re a handsome man of honor and overly gentlemanly but I beg you to rather propose next year“.

Watching his eyes fall shut and theatrically reopen as if drenched in pitch, you felt your hands and feet turn cold, any signs of a happy ending rusting and crumbling.

Frozen, you endured his approach, potent hands gripping your shoulders. At first gentle but then he turned you around swiftly, forcing your terrified eyes to stare at the door. Resistance was in vain.

“Oh darling, I’m afraid my friends would miss you so terribly that they cannot wait for a promised return that’s worth nothing more than hollow words“ he whispered in your ear, leaning so close that his chin brushed your temple. 

A wicked grin spread on Thomas’ face as he felt you writing underneath his grip, whining like a child as crimson arms reached through the tiny gap at each side of the door. “Thomas, please stop“. “Think of only how content your father would be to have the source of revolutionary machines in his family, huh?“.

And you yielded, screwing your eyes shut as you screamed what he wanted to hear so desperately. “ Alright, I will marry you“.

Instantly, the grip around your shoulder blades softened, transformed in a weirdly pleasant caress. “Good girl“ Thomas cooed from behind, blithely watching the goosebumps paint your pale neck. “Now give me your hand“.

Reluctantly you turned, reaching out to the emerald fabric of his open hanging vest only for him to slap away your hand. A venomous gaze stiffened your back, twitching brows wordlessly forcing you to correct your mistake.

Now offering your left hand, the adequate one, he grabbed it, making it look ridiculously small as he slipped a heavy ruby ring on your finger. 

You paused to stare at it, sick of the realization you had lost a year of juvenile freedom to a sinister, fine baronet. Under duress, not voluntarily.

“May I leave now? I need to apprise my father of this... well, situation“ you spoke again, the bitterness of a intertwined ‘are you happy now?’ swinging within your tone. But Thomas only chuckled, freeing himself of the vest to toss it on the fur carpet. 

“Do you truly think of me as this imbecile, my darling fiancé?“ the last word hit you with the force of a southern coal train. 

Shaking your head in a broken submission, your promptly tried to adjust your words, letting you sound more trustworthy. But the chance was long gone, rotten like the ghosts lurking behind the door. It glued your mouth shut instead. 

Slowly he stepped closer, reaching behind your back as you felt long digits loosen your beige corset. “You think of this marriage as nothing but a business deal“ he began, hot air from his voodooed lungs meeting your sweaty cleavage. Biting your lips you stayed silent, more or less eager for his continuation.

“Well, in fact it is so much more. You are the most gorgeous woman I ever laid eyes on, y/n. You will bear me beautiful heirs to my title“. Your heart contracted violently, fighting against the choice your helpless mind had made. The irrevocable choice forcing you to actually step in the role of a faithful wife. 

“I- what? What are you doing?“ You stammered, trying to hold on to the heavy fabric of your dress as it started to slide down your shoulders, threatening to leave you in only undergarments. 

Growling like a wolf, the baronet gritted his teeth when annoyed hands pulled it out of your grasp. “Please“ you whined, covering yourself with two quivering arms while you knew damn well that your fate was sealed. “You shan’t never hide what’s to be mine. Understood?“ He barked however, silent and graceful while hasty hands unbuckled his black breeches. 

Slowly, swallowing your pride, you let your arms hang down, eyes fixated on the flickering candle behind your fiancé. You would tell him to order more of them, you thought, they smelled nice. 

“Now, this cock won’t suck itself“.

Disbelieving, widened eyes darted back at him, insecurity smeared all across your face like neon lotion. 

Thomas’ brow was raised, his potent jaw bobbed forward in bloody impatience. “Once I had you, no other man will ever touch you. I’m just making sure my fiancé won’t renegade on her promise“ he stated as sober as well water, the poison within a stark black swirl. 

Succumbing to your fate, you dropped to your knees, staring at his manhood that twitched in lusty anticipation. “I- I’ve never…“ you mumbled, awkwardly curling your fingers around the hot shaft. He was huge, bigger than your housemaid had told you men were. 

You didn’t know whether his sympathy for you was feigned or not as Thomas told you how to wrap your lips around the tip and use your tongue to bring him satisfaction until he would thrust into your mouth.

And how you should let him.

Then you began to pleasure him, swallowing hot saliva around his wide girth until you heard him moan and grunt above you, blueish veins straining his neck when his head lolled back. It was a sinful sound, radiating pure masculinity and drenching your panties, if you wanted it to or not. 

Thomas was incredibly handsome, you couldn’t deny his charms. So you gave in trying to focus on breathing as he started to fuck your mouth. Knuckles turned white from the strong grip around the edge of the bed when wolfish growls and curses left his parted lips. 

You felt torn as he suddenly pulled out, hand still buried in your hair to yank you back on your feet. “No“ you babbled, feeling the burn of your scalp wandering down to infect your gut. You were not ready for what was to come. 

“What was that, pet?“ 

“I- I don’t want to“ your whisper felt pathetic. “You do not wish to be a good, obedient wife?“ Thomas hissed through gritted teeth, the blue in his eyes drowning you like a relentless ocean, features sharpened by the candle light. 

Dragging his face in a faux pout the sinister baronet mocked you “I assumed you wanted to see the grey seals tomorrow, darling. We could go together…“ he purred, gradually lowering you onto the duvet of his big bed. “Would my pretty fiancé like that?“.

You stared in his eyes, biting the inside of your cheek until a taste of copper was the product of your fear. “I’d love that, Thomas“ you forced yourself to say, nails digging in the red fabric gathered by your sides. 

A content smile curled his lips before a strong knee pressed between your legs, unfazed by any resistance. “If you are good for me…we’ll go“ he snarled, sliding back down to hook a finger in the waistband of your panties, the undergarment ripping in no time under his swift pull. 

Gasping, your upper body shot up, protesting against the man who stared at your naked cunt as if it was a box of gems he craved to possess and lock behind metal doors. “Thomas, please don’t“ a whine that erupted directly form your heart left him entertained, ignorant fingertips spreading your lips. 

“As I said, darling. Without some kind of assurance, words are rendered nothing but mere sounds“. 

“But why does it have to be like that?“

A big hand came closer as he crawled back up, pressing against your breasts to keep you glued to the mattress. New terror was born in your eyes, fading into absent-mindedness as you felt him drag his cock along your fold, chuckling to himself. 

He would take me either way you thought, trying to accept the burden that was the title of Lady Sharpe. You would have happily married him.

Next year though.

“Fuck, look at you. All wet like a whore yet so innocent“ you frowned at his words, eyes screwed shut to await the inevitable intrusion. “Please be gentle“ you heard yourself mutter, shocked by the taste of complete submission on your tongue. 

“Ah, ah! Eyes on me. I want to watch you as I make you my wife“ Thomas demanded, dropping on his elbow, needy cock lined up with your pussy. The tingle of his loose curls against your collarbone was a poor distraction to the fiery burn as he breached you, growling at the dark of his chamber. 

It felt unlike anything you had ever imagined, the thick ridges of his big cock stretching you beyond your limits.

Whining underneath him, palms pressed against the puffy shirt, lips begged him to pause until he did. “G-Gods… you feel p-perfect. So tight“ his husky moans were needles pricking your cheek as you felt him twitch inside you, the moment of pause weirdly fading the pain into pleasure. 

Until he pulled out, hips slapping against your ass when he began to pound into you, mercy far beneath his carnal needs. “Thomas, I- I can’t“ you whimpered silently, staggered breaths interrupting your senseless plea.

But he didn’t say a word, instead biting his rosy lip from the sheer pleasure your hesitant body bestowed on him. He looked feral, the collected, analyzing baronet who used to make nice business with your dad now hidden behind a black out curtain.

Darkness engulfed you when the candle finally died, leaving Thomas the only thing to hold onto in the cursed mansion that was now yours.

And so you did, clawing your nails in your fiancé’s muscular back, praying for the candle to be magically lit up again. To have mercy on your heart while Thomas’ relentless cock blanketed your body in unfamiliar ecstasy until he came, spilling his hot seed deep inside your core what forced you to followed him, chanting his name in your own crimson peak. 

tags (feel free to ignore if it's not your genre) : @coldnique @gigglingtigger @muddyorbs @gigglingtigger @smolvenger @toozmanykids @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl

[lokidbadguy]

A content smile curled his lips before a strong knee pressed between your legs, unfazed by any resistance. “If you are good for me…we’ll go“ he snarled, sliding back down to hook a finger in the waistband of your panties, the undergarment ripping in no time under his swift pull. 

OH MY LORD

And so you did, clawing your nails in your fiancé’s muscular back, praying for the candle to be magically lit up again. To have mercy on your heart while Thomas’ relentless cock blanketed your body in unfamiliar ecstasy until he came, spilling his hot seed deep inside your core what forced you to followed him, chanting his name in your own crimson peak. 

OH MY GODDDD

THE LAST SENTENCE ALSO AMAZING. YOU HIT THE INTENSE, CREEPY, BREATH HOLDING STORY REALLY GOOD. AMAZING!!!

[ladycamillewrites]

Ahhh thank you so much 😱💕

I'm super happy this hit the right spots! And thank you for mentioning the last sentence ahh I'm so happy thankss :)

[holdmytesseract]

My love, I really hope you get better soon. Here’s a lil distraction for you (; Sending you tons of warm hugs and healing vibes, babe 💜💪🏽

118 - “this isn’t adrenaline, i want to spend my life with you.”

Awww, that's so sweet of you, lovely! 🥺❤ Thank you! *hugs back* 🧡

118. "this isn't adrenaline, I want to spend my life with you."

(I went with Magnus for this, hope that's ok! ☺️)

"Let's go over there!" You squeaked in a excited voice, before you grabbed your boyfriend's big hand and pulled him over to the swingboat. You loved funfairs. It was a thing you never missed. Whenever there was a funfair in Ystad, you'd go there - and well... Since three years you dragged your boyfriend, Magnus, along. "The swingboat? Really, min älskling (my darling)?" You nodded, smiling up at the young man with the wild, curly hair. "Javisst, gullet. (Yes, indeed, cutie.)" Magnus huffed out, not that amused by the ride. "Come on, please?" You pouted, giving him your best doe eyes. "Alright, alright, let's go." "Eeep!" You squealed again, quickly pressing a kiss to his clean shaved cheek.

You two stood in line and sat ten minutes later in the swingboat. You held onto Magnus' hand at first, but a few seconds in, you let go and threw your hands in the air instead. "Wohooo!" You had fun - and Magnus as well, even though he didn't want to go at first. He joined you soon, lifting his arms as well. You both enjoyed the ride, laughing together.

After it though, the young policeman felt quite a bit lightheaded, reeling you into his arms and literally kissing you breathless. You giggled against his lips, placing a hand on his chest. "Mags, what's gotten into you?" He shook his head, smiling from ear to ear. "Nothing, älskling, I just love you so damn much. I swear, I'll never let go of you. Never ever." You had to giggle again, tracing his razor-sharp cheekbones and jawline with your finger. "That's the adrenaline, baby, but I love you so very much, too." Magnus shook his head. He was just so very happy right now. "This isn't adrenaline, I want to spend my life with you." He said in a more serious tone now. "I mean it, Y/N. I really mean it." You bit your lip, suppressing the upcoming smile. "Is that a proposal, Mags?" The man's cheeks reddened, as he scratched the back of his neck. "No, it's a promise, but one day it'll be a proposal, I swear."

I really hope you like it, babe! 💚

[ladycamillewrites]

EEeeek Magnus the cute bean 😁

Such a ownderful drabble I love every single one of them !!!

[ladycamillewrites]

𝕯𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑'𝖘 𝕭𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖙

∙ Thomas Sharpe x f!reader

𝖆/𝖓: written for @springdandelixn ‘s spring sleepover project. Happy Birthday darling 🖤

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: 18+ dark fic!! non/dub-con smut, Crimson Peak ghosts, forced marriage, manipulation, y/n held hostage

“Lucille?” 

“Over here my dear. Look at the foxes hiding in the northern flower meadows” her voice lured you towards the great dining hall. Allerdale Hall was huge, almost as big as your fathers country estate but with way more pretty wildlife around. 

To hell with your father’s sick hunting-addiction. Your studies were more important and surely the more peaceful.

Rushing over to join your friend at the window, your eyes instantly widened in joy at the sight of a vixen with two cubs. They seemed overly entertained by the growing flowers while the mother had her hands full with watching her boisterous offspring.

“They are incredibly adorable, are they not?“ You chirped, barely able to suppress your excitement about the spring season here in Scotland.

Thanks to Lucille and her brother Thomas you were invited to spend as much time as you wanted in the mansion of your friend you once got to know at your families annual garden festivities. Someone brought Lucille along and well, the spark of sympathy was instantly lit. 

You’ve known her for quite a while. Two wonderful years regarding the regular letters and many visits. 

If there only wasn’t Thomas Sharpe; the unfairly fine baronet who always watched you from the shadows with his oceanic orbs shining like the full moon. The hunger in his eyes elicited a cocktail of fear, submission and unexplainable arousal. 

Most improper things. 

However, it was wedding season and your father might wanted to introduce you to some gentlemen when you’d be back. Hoping you would finally agree to marriage. It was a gift and a curse at the same time to be allowed to pick your husband yourself. 

Though, you were curious whether Thomas had found a fiancé.

“Tomorrow we will spot the grey seals at the bay, I’m most certain of it” Lucille smiled patting your shoulder before she weaves past your body.

The smell of Bergamot invaded your nostrils as you looked after your friend, unsure about the reason of her back-off. 

It was Thomas donning an emerald vest with a puffy white shirt underneath, the gold fob watch on proud display. It shone equally as mysterious as those almond eyes.

“How is the wedding season going for you so far, darling?“ He purred, chin hoisted when you opened your silent mouth, unsure about what to reply.

“I- I, erm my father, luckily, allows me to decide when I wish to get married“ you began, watching in awe as his eyes narrowed, knuckles crackling as he pressed them together in a silent predatory display.

Lucille stepped back in your sight, smiling richly to coax whatever your final answer was. The siblings looked not too alike, you noticed as your eyes tried to hold on to something other than Thomas’ expectant demeanor.

“-and also whom. But I rather wait until next year since I am deeply invested in my studies of northern wildlife“ you finished with a meek smile, hoping that your explanation would suffice. Lucille herself wasn’t married although she was older than you and already exceeded the marriageable age. 

Fresh confusion was written all across your face as Thomas nodded at his sister, took a small black box from her and approached you with black leather boots hitting the dull parquet. Nervous, you tugged a strand of hair behind your ear, gaze shifting to squint at the flowering poppies bathing in the dazzling sun.

However, you flinched when the baronet suddenly cleared his throat, attractive bone structure directed at you when he opened the box, drawing your attention. “Would you do me the honor then, y/n?“ His baritone resounded against the old walls of his mansion, leaving your heart miss a beat in utter shock. 

Not knowing where to put your hands, you clasped them together, trembling fists resting in front of your heavy chest. “Thomas, I- I don’t know what to say that comes all so…abruptly“ your stammer sounded rueful, yet reasonably composed and bewaring the appropriate courtesy.

Again, anxious eyes flickered over to Lucille, her face suddenly all darkened with a thousand words of diktat sitting on her tongue. Where was your friend gone? The woman who told you about the different groups of deer visiting her gardens?

“Your father would surely be content with closer business relations, wouldn’t he?“ Thomas said sternly, leaving you no metaphorical room to breathe with the only relevant leverage held against you. You would most certainly do anything for the man you loved most. And Thomas knew.

Forcing an awkward smile, your trembling hand reached out to carefully close the box with the ring that would grant his owner the title of Lady Sharpe. “Please, do not take this as an insult because it most certainly is not“ Tomas' piercing gaze darted up to meet yours “But I would prefer to wait until the next season as I don’t yet feel ready for such a momentous step“. 

Silence. 

Scoffing, Thomas turned away from you, the cool scent of him blew in your direction from the brusque move.

Serious unease started to settle in your veins, poisoning your brain with the carnal urge for freedom. To breathe fresh air. Alone. At least for a moment.

“Excuse me…“ you whispered, sweaty fingertips raising the skirt of your dress to make your way down the stairs.

“Don’t you think my machines would be of great use in your father’s gold mines overseas?“ The deep pitch got you to stop and pause. Your own agitated breathing the only thing audible in the huge dining room as you failed to spot Lucille.

There was only Thomas, his ocean blue orbs glinting across his shoulder as he desultorily looked back at you. “Thomas, I beg you. This was by no means a rejection. I’m just asking you for some time to finish my studies“. Your voice was reduced until every word sounded like a plea.

The self-confident woman had already left Allerdale Hall, it seemed. 

“I suggest you re-think your choice, darling“ he purred with a freeze like a winter storm, cold thrills descending your vertebrae. You didn’t dare to move nevertheless, muscles tense and ready to run. “Either that or you won’t ever leave this house“.

And you ran, muttering an unnecessary “Apologies“ as hasty legs carried you towards the staircase. That was when you started to notice a darkness, watching the curtains being pulled closed as if by witchcraft. 

Panic spread in your system, hands clasped onto the handle as you hurled yourself down the stairs. “Don’t leave“ a jarring voice breathed, causing you to stop mid-stairs, your head turning in slow motion. You did not want to know who else was living in this house right now however, the voice pierced straight into your consciousness. 

Gasping like a child fearing death you stared into the crimson face of what seemed like a ghost, slender limbs blocking the nearby window. With a cry you turned around, pacing downwards to the main door only to cry out harder when a second one of those horrific creatures blocked.

“Staaayyyyy“ they breathed in a terrific choir, filling your face with naked horror.

“I- I’m going to d-die. I’m going to be killed by ghosts“ you muttered, a stressed out brain trying everything to come up with a way out.

Turning on the spot like a cursed ballerina in a music box, you eventually spotted a single door that wasn’t yet blocked by those red, howling creatures. An exit you prayed when shaking hands twisted the doorknob. 

Slamming the heavy wooden door shut behind you, your head dropped against it with an echoing thud. Candle light flickered behind you, a large, elaborately designed closet was the only thing you were able to locate when hurling in. 

You were alone. In safety.

“I wasn’t jesting earlier, my dear“ an amused chuckle found your ears, the unique baritone making it past the rushing sound of hot blood in your head.

Thomas.

Panting heavily, you turned around, body too wasted to step back out and face those living nightmares again.

The tall, lean figure of the baronet stepped out of the shadows, a smug smirk resting on his thin lips. He looked handsome in candle light, you mused, burned out and incapable of summoning more fear. 

“What- What are they?“ You asked instead, slowly stepping backwards, deeper into the room that turned out to be a regal bedroom. Those suffering moans resounding against the wood were too much while their ugly image ghosted around in your head.

Clicking his tongue, Thomas started to circle you like a starved shark, stern eyes traveling your spent body. “Ghosts. And they shall only be obedient to the Sharpes“. 

“Let me go, please. I swear I won’t tell a word about this curse“ you pleaded, feeling dizzy from following the spheroid course of Thomas steps. 

“It is only to be felt as a curse as long as you are not my wife. Therefore I shall ask again before my courtesy is the next thing to turn crimson“ he spat, every syllable weirdly monotonous, unfitting the usual behavior of the fine baronet. He felt like a changed man, even looked different with onyx curls splattered across his forehead instead of being neatly combed back. 

You swallowed hard, gathering the boldness to state your point of view one last time, hoping he would somehow understand. Whyever he should now.

“Thomas, I cannot deny that you’re a handsome man of honor and overly gentlemanly but I beg you to rather propose next year“.

Watching his eyes fall shut and theatrically reopen as if drenched in pitch, you felt your hands and feet turn cold, any signs of a happy ending rusting and crumbling.

Frozen, you endured his approach, potent hands gripping your shoulders. At first gentle but then he turned you around swiftly, forcing your terrified eyes to stare at the door. Resistance was in vain.

“Oh darling, I’m afraid my friends would miss you so terribly that they cannot wait for a promised return that’s worth nothing more than hollow words“ he whispered in your ear, leaning so close that his chin brushed your temple. 

A wicked grin spread on Thomas’ face as he felt you writing underneath his grip, whining like a child as crimson arms reached through the tiny gap at each side of the door. “Thomas, please stop“. “Think of only how content your father would be to have the source of revolutionary machines in his family, huh?“.

And you yielded, screwing your eyes shut as you screamed what he wanted to hear so desperately. “ Alright, I will marry you“.

Instantly, the grip around your shoulder blades softened, transformed in a weirdly pleasant caress. “Good girl“ Thomas cooed from behind, blithely watching the goosebumps paint your pale neck. “Now give me your hand“.

Reluctantly you turned, reaching out to the emerald fabric of his open hanging vest only for him to slap away your hand. A venomous gaze stiffened your back, twitching brows wordlessly forcing you to correct your mistake.

Now offering your left hand, the adequate one, he grabbed it, making it look ridiculously small as he slipped a heavy ruby ring on your finger. 

You paused to stare at it, sick of the realization you had lost a year of juvenile freedom to a sinister, fine baronet. Under duress, not voluntarily.

“May I leave now? I need to apprise my father of this... well, situation“ you spoke again, the bitterness of a intertwined ‘are you happy now?’ swinging within your tone. But Thomas only chuckled, freeing himself of the vest to toss it on the fur carpet. 

“Do you truly think of me as this imbecile, my darling fiancé?“ the last word hit you with the force of a southern coal train. 

Shaking your head in a broken submission, your promptly tried to adjust your words, letting you sound more trustworthy. But the chance was long gone, rotten like the ghosts lurking behind the door. It glued your mouth shut instead. 

Slowly he stepped closer, reaching behind your back as you felt long digits loosen your beige corset. “You think of this marriage as nothing but a business deal“ he began, hot air from his voodooed lungs meeting your sweaty cleavage. Biting your lips you stayed silent, more or less eager for his continuation.

“Well, in fact it is so much more. You are the most gorgeous woman I ever laid eyes on, y/n. You will bear me beautiful heirs to my title“. Your heart contracted violently, fighting against the choice your helpless mind had made. The irrevocable choice forcing you to actually step in the role of a faithful wife. 

“I- what? What are you doing?“ You stammered, trying to hold on to the heavy fabric of your dress as it started to slide down your shoulders, threatening to leave you in only undergarments. 

Growling like a wolf, the baronet gritted his teeth when annoyed hands pulled it out of your grasp. “Please“ you whined, covering yourself with two quivering arms while you knew damn well that your fate was sealed. “You shan’t never hide what’s to be mine. Understood?“ He barked however, silent and graceful while hasty hands unbuckled his black breeches. 

Slowly, swallowing your pride, you let your arms hang down, eyes fixated on the flickering candle behind your fiancé. You would tell him to order more of them, you thought, they smelled nice. 

“Now, this cock won’t suck itself“.

Disbelieving, widened eyes darted back at him, insecurity smeared all across your face like neon lotion. 

Thomas’ brow was raised, his potent jaw bobbed forward in bloody impatience. “Once I had you, no other man will ever touch you. I’m just making sure my fiancé won’t renegade on her promise“ he stated as sober as well water, the poison within a stark black swirl. 

Succumbing to your fate, you dropped to your knees, staring at his manhood that twitched in lusty anticipation. “I- I’ve never…“ you mumbled, awkwardly curling your fingers around the hot shaft. He was huge, bigger than your housemaid had told you men were. 

You didn’t know whether his sympathy for you was feigned or not as Thomas told you how to wrap your lips around the tip and use your tongue to bring him satisfaction until he would thrust into your mouth.

And how you should let him.

Then you began to pleasure him, swallowing hot saliva around his wide girth until you heard him moan and grunt above you, blueish veins straining his neck when his head lolled back. It was a sinful sound, radiating pure masculinity and drenching your panties, if you wanted it to or not. 

Thomas was incredibly handsome, you couldn’t deny his charms. So you gave in trying to focus on breathing as he started to fuck your mouth. Knuckles turned white from the strong grip around the edge of the bed when wolfish growls and curses left his parted lips. 

You felt torn as he suddenly pulled out, hand still buried in your hair to yank you back on your feet. “No“ you babbled, feeling the burn of your scalp wandering down to infect your gut. You were not ready for what was to come. 

“What was that, pet?“ 

“I- I don’t want to“ your whisper felt pathetic. “You do not wish to be a good, obedient wife?“ Thomas hissed through gritted teeth, the blue in his eyes drowning you like a relentless ocean, features sharpened by the candle light. 

Dragging his face in a faux pout the sinister baronet mocked you “I assumed you wanted to see the grey seals tomorrow, darling. We could go together…“ he purred, gradually lowering you onto the duvet of his big bed. “Would my pretty fiancé like that?“.

You stared in his eyes, biting the inside of your cheek until a taste of copper was the product of your fear. “I’d love that, Thomas“ you forced yourself to say, nails digging in the red fabric gathered by your sides. 

A content smile curled his lips before a strong knee pressed between your legs, unfazed by any resistance. “If you are good for me…we’ll go“ he snarled, sliding back down to hook a finger in the waistband of your panties, the undergarment ripping in no time under his swift pull. 

Gasping, your upper body shot up, protesting against the man who stared at your naked cunt as if it was a box of gems he craved to possess and lock behind metal doors. “Thomas, please don’t“ a whine that erupted directly form your heart left him entertained, ignorant fingertips spreading your lips. 

“As I said, darling. Without some kind of assurance, words are rendered nothing but mere sounds“. 

“But why does it have to be like that?“

A big hand came closer as he crawled back up, pressing against your breasts to keep you glued to the mattress. New terror was born in your eyes, fading into absent-mindedness as you felt him drag his cock along your fold, chuckling to himself. 

He would take me either way you thought, trying to accept the burden that was the title of Lady Sharpe. You would have happily married him.

Next year though.

“Fuck, look at you. All wet like a whore yet so innocent“ you frowned at his words, eyes screwed shut to await the inevitable intrusion. “Please be gentle“ you heard yourself mutter, shocked by the taste of complete submission on your tongue. 

“Ah, ah! Eyes on me. I want to watch you as I make you my wife“ Thomas demanded, dropping on his elbow, needy cock lined up with your pussy. The tingle of his loose curls against your collarbone was a poor distraction to the fiery burn as he breached you, growling at the dark of his chamber. 

It felt unlike anything you had ever imagined, the thick ridges of his big cock stretching you beyond your limits.

Whining underneath him, palms pressed against the puffy shirt, lips begged him to pause until he did. “G-Gods… you feel p-perfect. So tight“ his husky moans were needles pricking your cheek as you felt him twitch inside you, the moment of pause weirdly fading the pain into pleasure. 

Until he pulled out, hips slapping against your ass when he began to pound into you, mercy far beneath his carnal needs. “Thomas, I- I can’t“ you whimpered silently, staggered breaths interrupting your senseless plea.

But he didn’t say a word, instead biting his rosy lip from the sheer pleasure your hesitant body bestowed on him. He looked feral, the collected, analyzing baronet who used to make nice business with your dad now hidden behind a black out curtain.

Darkness engulfed you when the candle finally died, leaving Thomas the only thing to hold onto in the cursed mansion that was now yours.

And so you did, clawing your nails in your fiancé’s muscular back, praying for the candle to be magically lit up again. To have mercy on your heart while Thomas’ relentless cock blanketed your body in unfamiliar ecstasy until he came, spilling his hot seed deep inside your core what forced you to followed him, chanting his name in your own crimson peak. 

tags (feel free to ignore if it's not your genre) : @coldnique @gigglingtigger @muddyorbs @gigglingtigger @smolvenger @toozmanykids @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl

[ladycamillewrites]

Against the Odds

Chapter 10 - Don't be sorry

warnings: pregnancy stuff, emotional scenes, cussing

masterlist

“Chris? Can you hear me?“

“Tom! G’day mate! I know I might’ve overstrained your nerves yesterday“ Chris sighed, suddenly feeling a bit guilty for throwing the overwhelming piece of information at his best friend on a random Thursday night. Wile he was out with Benedict.

“No, it’s- I… fuck, man“ Tom’s husky voice echoed through the Aussie’s phone, self-doubts were battling rays of hope for a brighter future in his voice. “I’m in Dubai right now“

Short silence.

“Erm, you are where?“ 

“Dubai. It’s a three hour layover but those guys have quite the comfortable business class lounge“ Tom replied, the rattling of cutlery adding to the background noises.

The gears in Chris’ head shifted fast, the realization of what his best friend was doing set in like a lightning. But honestly he didn’t expect anything else. Tom was a good man with a strong heart.

“Oh god, thank ya. Y/n is” he stopped for a second “Well, she needs you“, his voice vanishing in a whisper as he heard your high-pitched curse from upstairs. Perhaps the baby was giving his sister some thundering headaches again. A muffled giggle resounded from the actor’s vocal cords whereas Tom was on red alert.

“Is she alright? God, I should’ve come far earlier“ the Brit sighed, doing a desperate facepalm and his left forearm landed on the table with a dull smack. The Arabian specialties he ordered smelled tantalizing however, his hunger was gone.

“Bro, calm down. It’s probably just the baby doing it’s first moves. She always complains about how it tickles on the inside and she can’t do anything about it“ the Thor actor explained, trying to take the guilt from his friend. There was no real need to make him insecure by telling the first conjecture about the reason of your cry. 

“Thank god. It sounds like her“ Tom chuckled lightly, freeing his forehead from the strong grip of his hand. Planes were taking off and pushing back behind the thick windows giving him hope to finally be reunited with the woman he loved more than anything else.

And his unborn child.

“So, If nothing gets in the way I’ll be arriving in Brisbane at 2pm“. 

“I’ll pick you up, bro. Have a nice flight“ Chris hurried to say goodbye before his secret phone call would blow up.

You were bustling all around the house, finding something new to do every five minutes. The second trimester, despite of small movements of the baby and occasional migraine, was flooding you with energy and motivation to do the most random stuff at even more random times. 

“Arielle? Where are you?“ Liam’s voice echoed from downstairs. “Bathroom. Thor tries to eat my bikini bottooooooms“ you yelled back, the panic in your voice amusingly audible. The fluffy Australian Shepherd was a sweetheart. Mostly. But sometimes he turned into Satan himself and tried to annoy the hell out of you.

“Thor tries to do what?“ Your youngest brother asked, the wicked entertainment obvious. Of course he found that funny. “When you finished laughing could you please get your pretty ass up here and put that dog away-ahhhhh!“.

Liam bit his hand to repress a roaring laughter while Chris fist banged on the counter top. Another desperate try to keep it in whereas your agitated curses echoed from above. Their gazes met and both knew they were absolutely defeated. Bursting out in crippling laughter the brothers bathed in your suffering. 

“Liam and Chris fucking Hemsworth! I know y’all grinning like a shot fox. M’ gonna kill you by drowning in the sea“ you cried out before dull thuds announced you descending the stairs and approaching your brothers with the chewed string of wet fabric menacingly in your hand. “Nooo, don’t“ Liam cried out running away from you like a scared, giggling child. You were a mess with your brothers but hell, no one cared so it was just perfect. 

“You’ll buy me a new crossie, friend“ you pointed at Chris who was still choking on a slice of mango. “Why should I?“ He threw his hands up in despair before the salivated fabric hit his naked torso with a wet smack. You weren’t to play games with right now but secretly you enjoyed the childish banter.

*ding-dong*

“Arielle, could you please accept the mail?“ Chris yelled from out of the garage. He just got back from grocery shopping and you were the only one dry and inside since your nephews were having quality time with their mother in the pool. Reluctantly, you got up, hasty legs carrying you towards the big, white door. 

Lost in thoughts about Tom, the few months you relished in a perfect life with him London, you twisted the doorknob.

“Hello, my love“.

Your jaw dropped, hands flying up to cup your cheeks as the man you were thinking about nonstop stood in the doorframe, a pretty bouquet made out of lilies and roses in his hands. It felt like you were frozen, as if the person who played you as character just paused the game while Tom’s coy yet incredibly charming smile dazzled your widened eyes. 

“May I come-“ he began, but the baritone voice you had missed so much died as your lips sealed with his. It was as if there had never been a second of pause, not even the slightest touch of difference. It was beautiful whereas you felt horrible inside. Hot tears teetered in the brink of your eyelids, ready to stain Tom’s notorious blue sweater.

“I missed you, darling“ he breathed as you parted for a second, causing the dam of your eyes to breake and gushes of salty tears streamed down you reddened cheeks. 

You had basically abandoned him, left him without a trace and only a ludicrous excuse of a letter. Nevertheless, the man stood right here in front of you smiling thorough his own emotionality with the biggest doe eyes. He wasn’t angry, was he?

Honestly, you couldn’t even blame him if he was.

“Listen, Tom I- I am so fucking sorry” it blurted out of you, unable to meet his ocean blues and turning away from the door instead. Your step away allowed the Brit to enter, however, you were trying to get a safe distance. A few feet that would spare you from his beautiful face contorted in disappointment like a Bernini statue.

“Love, please” 

“No, I can’t. There’s no adequate excuse for what I have done. I should have spoken to you before I left. I should’ve told you that I am…” your voice died in the sore passageway of your throat. Tom was unaware of your biggest secret, wasn’t he?

A whole damn child spending it’s thirteenth week of live in your belly was a hell of a secret. You felt like crumbling apart.

“Pregnant? I know, y/n” Tom’s soothing voice hoisted your gaze from the floor, rays of hope sparkling in your eyes and the broadly smiling man came closer. Was he alright with it? Would he possibly want to have a child with you? A thousand scenarios rumbled through your agitated mind, images of your happy family life fighting the idea of raising him or her alone.

“How do you-“ you began, your boyfriends sharp jawline pointing at your brother as he nodded agreeing wordlessly. Chris sat in the staircase grinning like a Cheshire Cat and holding both thumbs up in an affirmative gesture. Of course. How could you’ve been so stupid to tell him and not expecting him to tell his best friend who happened to be the father. 

You scoffed, grabbing Tom’s hand and pulling him across the whole living room until you reached the terrace, elaborately peppered with exotic plants and a few loungers. Peaceful and peace was definitely what you desired the most. Inner peace with yourself and the man you were ready to lose everything else for. 

“I found out the night of the London Awards but I was already in the tenth week. Remember when I stumbled and you dragged me to the ER?” you whispered, hands playing with vivid petals of the bouquet Tom had bought you. Oh, the scent was heavenly reminding you of the unique lilly-scented washing powder Tom used for his dress shirts. 

Probably not a coincidence but a gentle innuendo.

“Oh god. Why- Why didn’t you tell me?” He panted, looking up from the glass table that separated you like bars of a mental prison. His question weighed heavy on your delicate shoulders, the tickle of your baby’s first tries of movements added oil to the fire that spread across every single sense. It felt shitty, as if you had committed a felony.

“Fuck“ you sighed, hiding your sensitive face in the last fortress of small hands. You had hurt him and blatantly so. Shifting uncomfortable on the soft leather, you stopped as his gentle fingertips brushed your bare knees, slowly pushing the hem of your dress upwards, calculated wave-like motions. “Thomas, I didn’t mean to fool you. I really didn’t. It was just… I-“ you began to stammer mid-sentence.

“Shhh“ he calmed your troubled mind, squatting from the leathery surface and reaching to grab your waist. A gentle flex of his exposed forearms lifted you upwards, coaxing you to straddle his lap. His scent invaded your nostrils like sedative gas, his touch melted your spent muscles like lava melts snow. It felt like the exact same home you left three weeks ago.

Guilt. That was what fueled your tears as soon as your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck. You had left him. Pregnant. You could never properly excuse this although your choice had been influenced heavily by the greedy, destructive voices that wanted nothing but drama and heartbreak.

“I know, darling. I could never reproach you for what you did“ he whispered, the big hand continuously tracing little circles and other swirling patterns on your back. “But I sincerely hope that you can give us a second chance“ the Brit purred carefully. “Please, love. I need you“ the last words flew silently in the Australian breeze like a heavy promise. A promise to your ears only before it got carried away.

“Would you want me back? After…well, I left you?“ You murmured barely audible against the drenched fabric of his signature sweater. Your tears had devoured his whole shoulder but the relentless sun would dry it in an instant anyway. A bit of wetness was Tom’s smallest problem at the moment.

“I’ve never not wanted you, y/n. Since the day Chris introduced me to you again I knew you would play the leading role my own, personal movie. God, I have thought about you since that day. Nonstop, not until this very second“ 

“Can we take a break from the world? Just us and the people who don’t judge for a little while? I need to get my life- we need to get our life sorted“ you paused for a little sigh, slightly hesitant to mention the ‘issue‘. “Especially since she’s with us“.

“So… you think it is a girl? Our baby?“ Tom breathed, the words sinking in like hot ash burning all his previous experiences and nurturing the new life he would be building with you. And with whoever little wonder was hiding in your womb. It was much to take in. “Our baby“ he repeated almost absent-mindedly, thoughts trailing off to how he would be a father in about… wait.

“How far along are you, love?“ The question dragged you out of the gleeful bliss of watching Tom’s gorgeous face contort in pure awe. “Fourteenth week so in the beginning of the second trimester“ you began to explain, your boyfriend’s lips twitching with every new piece of vulnerable information he got. You could almost smell his adorable excitement. 

“Wow” his soft baritone cooed, almost in sync with your giggle. “With you wearing this loose dress I could never have guessed”.

“And yes, somehow I have the feeling it’s a girl. She’ll have your beautiful curls, Tommy“. You smiled so freely and happily for the first time in a long time. Your cheeks wandered up to give way to proud, curling lips and your pregnancy glow reflected the sun like a touch of divinity. He always wanted to have children once and with you being their mother, the actor couldn’t be any happier. He never had been to be exact, in none of his earlier relationships.

Tom hummed in approval, returning your smile before your delicate hand grabbed his, guiding it towards your stomach but he stopped, steel blue doe eyes searching for consent. He was a gentleman of the first waters. Always. Even if it was about his own flesh and blood growing like a wonderful flower.

“Go on“ you smiled coyly, gaze fixed on the Brit’s unique facial features scanning them for any sign of reaction as he touched your small bump. It wasn’t too big yet but clearly visible now that you brushed the fabric of the dress. “Christ“ he breathed, a sudden warmth spreading from his palms like a calming balm. You could feel how she was enjoying her dad’s touch.

For the first time knowingly.

“You’re gonna be a father, Thomas Hiddleston“ you snickered. The angelic sound of your words and their overwhelming meaning dragged the curly haired Brit out of his trance and back into the reality he would cherish and treasure like a guard dog. 

“We- we’ll have a baby“ he eventually whimpered with a sniffy tone. The man had lost control over his words or expressions. “I thought it was impossible for me“ you mused, smiling to yourself at all the comments and bottomless accusations Nate had planted in your mind.

Bullshit. It had all been bullshit and Tom, the real love of your life, had proven it.

Nate could proudly go fuck himself because you had everything you wanted. 

But deep down you knew this triumph wouldn’t be for too long. In a few months the premiere of ‘The Moralizer‘ would take place with compulsory attendance for you and Tom. Logically the world world would know if you came.

However, you wanted to keep this piece of heaven for as long as it lasted. In private.

“God, y/n. You're growing a wonder. I can’t wait to meet him“ he chuckled pulling you in a gentle kiss and lavishly toying with your lower lip. He was devastatingly seductive as always but suave in his tender touch.

“Him? So you don’t think it’s a girl?“ You mused against his wet lips, both of your mouths curling in fond smiles and giggles. 

“Hmmm“ he hummed, the dark timbre of his voice always remaining you of Loki, the Asgardian god you had a massive movie-crush on since the first Thor movie and naturally it got progressively worse. To your defense, you weren’t alone. “No. It’s gonna be a daddy’s boy“.

“Tommy! What even is my role then? You cannot just claim little Hiddles!“ 

“Excuse me? Little Hiddles?“ Tom chuckled, butterflies swirling in his belly at your face all scrunched up in mischievous laughter and of course the cute nickname you had given the baby. He would copy that most definitely. ‘Little Hiddles’ he repeated in his head, pride swelling in his chest, the thought of you as the mother of his child was simple in it’s nature but utterly beautiful.

“Y/n, Tom? Can we talk for a second?“ A shy Elsa peeked around the corner of the brick column. She had been an angel since your arrival, the second person to know of your pregnancy in general and the best source of productive help you got so far. She had three kids after all.

“Sure, and thank you for letting me stay, Elsa. Truly“ Tom unwrapped his charming, British smile making Elsa return it a mere blink of an eye. This man was a honeytrap for every breathing being, a fluffy looking predator that could lure anyone he wished. But it was you who owned his pure heart. You and baby-Tommy, of course.

“You’re something like my brother-in-law so how could I say no?“ She giggled, sitting down opposite of you. “Have you told him about the appointment and the little thing we’ve planned?“ 

You but your lower lips, sudden nervousness cursed your veins at the thought of today’s ultrasound appointment. The biggest one in a while and with a little luck, the doc would be able to determine the gender. Hopefully, everything was alright with your little wonder. You couldn’t bear any complications in this emotionally vulnerable state. Not with the newfound happiness Tom brought with him from London. 

“Well, erm I thought you c- can“ you begun to stutter like a child, your gaze jumping from Tom’s right eyes to his left. “She has a big exam today and now that the daddy is here…“ Elsa tried to help you, nodding affirmatively until the words slipped from your tongue.

“Would you like to come with me?“ 

“If you would have me, dove“ Tom cooed with excitement tugging at his lips.

Chris’ wife was slowly melting but not from the Australian sun, no, from the utter cuteness of the whole scenario. It felt like the final, happy reunion in a rom-com with the best actors on the planet. To her you definitely were.

“And Elsa wants to organize a gender reveal party if that’s okay with you, baby“ you snickered against his muscular chest, the training for Skull Island and the Moralizer was still showing off so seductively. If everything was going well later, Tom would definitely not be allowed the leave the bedroom tonight. 

You were touch starved and so was he, his hips subtly bucking as you leaned back, temptingly putting your cleavage on display for him.

Oh, the passion never died.

“I can hear it in your voice, dove. You would love this, wouldn’t you?“ He mocked playfully, long digits flying to hold you in place. “Maybe“. The giggle spoke volumes, making the handsome Brit set up the serotonin-boosting smile you loved so much about him. The shiny teeth reflected the sun like luxurious pearls while you drowned in the ocean and sky blue shades of his almond eyes.

A beautiful man and all yours. Hopefully, forever.

“Ready? It could feel a bit cold“ the doctor asked for consent before applying the ultrasound probe on your bump. It tickled, felt weird but Tom was sitting right next to you caressing your arm and smiling like an exited kid. You wouldn’t know whether it was a girl or a boy since Elsa planned the party for you. 

The doc knew so everything that came out of his mouth were the standard affirmations. You smiled at Tom, watching him look at the monitor with an awe-struck expression painting his sharp facials.

Fuck Nate. This was exactly what you wanted. This man and this little family.

But his smile died, brows furrowed in confusion as the doctor mumbled incoherent phrases to himself, moving the probe across your belly as if he was searching something. 

“Ehm, is everything alright?“ Your dry voice was shaking and Tom’s big hand grabbed your left hand. The tension was palpable and thousands of bad scenarios began to flash in your irritated mommy-mind. 

“Oh, sorry! Yes, it is actually all good twice“ he explained, fingers moving on the monitor to make measurements or whatever this device was capable of. 

Your confused gaze met your boyfriend’s equally puzzled ocean blues, both unable to process what the doctor was trying to imply. 

“You didn’t know?“ The older man asked again, an exited grin on his thin lips. “Sorry, know what?“

“You’re expecting twins, Ms Hemsworth“ 

“I beg your pardon?“ It blurted out of Tom, disbelief written all over his gorgeous face like an emotional love letter. The shock turned into a sweet realization as the monitor got turned and you saw the two tiny beings sharing your belly like roommates.

“Well, the babies are a bit small for your stage of pregnancy but it's nothing to worry about. Both seem perfectly healthy“.

Two babies.

“Oh my god“ you breathed, mouth agape from feeling you couldn’t even describe properly. Of course, you were overwhelmed for more than just a blink of an eye and maybe would need some days to really process this. However, the main emotions were pure luck, happiness and pride swelling in your fast pounding heart when glassy eyes met Tom.

* beep beep *

“Oh, excuse me for a minute“ the friendly doctor nodded, the honest smile on his face silently congratulating the happy couple before the he left. 

“Twins, darling! You’re a wonder“ Tom sobbed, sweet tears rolling down the sharp path of his cheekbones until they hit your naked belly. It felt so wholesome yet utterly distant as you sat up, back against Tom’s chest and both staring at the on-hold image the doctor captured. 

At first you thought you would never have a baby and now… two little creatures sleeping safe and sound in your bump. The natural consequence of your love to the most perfect man on earth.

“I- I don’t… we have to buy twice as much clothes?!“ It blurted out of you, realization slowly setting like dawn. Tom just chuckled, the deep sound intertwining with happy sobs and vibrating against your neck. He held you tight, one hand sinking down to cup your belly in such loving manner, the twins would surely notice.

“Looks like I have to order two Loki jumpers then“. “Sorry, you ordered what?“ You bursted out in laughter swiftly turning your shoulders to face the grinning man. He was Loki, there was no doubt. But the stubble of his beard was kind of distracting to the image of the ethereal trickster nevertheless, you loved it as much. 

“You will be an amazing father, Tom“ you snickered, the tip of your nose touching his before his pointer brushed your chin and coaxed you into a passionate kiss. Tongues were swirling around each other, tears were mingling at your touching cheeks. This moment was one to treasure, one that was burnt deep in your memory. One that you shared with Tom forever and maybe would think about again when your twins had kids of their own…

“I’m so sorry I left you. Is there any way I could-“ but Tom was quick to interrupt “Love, we talked about this. No more apologies because I am happier than ever“ he breathed in between the heated kiss. Perhaps it grew a bit out of control, his greedy hands melting in the curves of your hips.

“Guys, I’ve heard you’re-“ Elsa stumbled in the room, the handle of her bag getting caught on the doorknob. With heavy pants you parted, mentally thanking the door for distracting your sister-in-law. There was no need for her to see you almost making out in the examination room of the local hospital, right?

“Twins!“ You grinned like a Cheshire Cat while it was still dawning on you that this meant twice the work, twice the fatigue and twice the bustle.

But hell, as if you couldn’t manage it with Tom on your side. You were ready for this luck of a challenge and so was your boyfriend, agog to tell his mom. You’ve met her already, even visited her a few times and she was so adorable. The perfect grandmother, you were sure.

Elsa squeaked like an overly exited child, jumping around to pull both of you in a hug. “Congratulations, you two“ she chirped, suddenly pulling back to stare at you with eyes widened and a silent o on her lips. “Oh gosh! I have to double up all the decoration and stuff“ it blurted out of her bestowing you a good round of laughter.

Unbeknownst to you the doctor returned, your documents and files in his hands.

“Mister Hiddleston, do you know your blood type by any chance?“ He intervened, the smile in his voice audible as the sweet serotonin swirling in the air infiltrated him as well. 

“A negative, sir“ his answer came like shot leaving Elsa and you startled, exchanging funny looks as the doc completed the entries in your maternity record. “Well, you could shoot me in the leg and I wouldn’t know“ your best friend quipped nudging Tom in the side to elicit some kind of explanation.  

Tom’s amused chuckle warmed your heart as you smoothened your blouse again, turning on the medical couch, your legs dangling freely. “While filming Skull Island they needed to know in case anyone got injured in the backland of Vietnam“ he explained, smiling at all the interesting memories he made.

“Have you heard that mini-Hiddlestons? Your daddy is a pretty cool guy“ you cackled, caressing the small bump hidden by comfortable leggings.

“Twins? Are you kidding me mate?“ Chris’ deep voice echoed through the whole house as Tom proudly presented the ultrasound picture the doc gave you. “What?“ India squeaked running towards her daddy and swiftly grabbing the photo. Logically, it was just a weird black and white image of something she was far too young to realize but her youthful joy was unstoppable. 

“Like Tristan and Sasha?“ She asked Tom, small eyebrows furrowed in concentration to process the gleeful situation. India had idolized her aunt y/n since the day she was born and finding out there would be more kids in her family soon was totally awesome to her.

“Exactly. Maybe this kind of luck runs in the Hemsworth-blood?“ Tom joked patting his bro’s shoulders; the man as hard as rock yet fighting happy tears like a toddler. “You have no idea what multiplying this kind of work means“ your big brother tried to detract from his emotionality but Tom just laughed it off.

There was no space for worries or fears right now. Just bliss.

“Chris, what the hell?“ Liam intervened crossing his arms in front of his chest defensively. The youngest brother sometimes actually was the most reasonable. “Are you really just terrifying him? Give this man a break“.

“Exactly, Chris. Listen to your brother“ you feigned seriousness while jumping on Liam’s back letting him carry you around the house like a human horse. “To the fridge“ you commanded strictly, extending one arm with your fingers pointing to the kitchen.

The mini-Hiddles were hungry so the mango in the fridge was destined to die.

The other mango you knew was certainly better suited for more private times…

“Lucky you. The last few days she wanted me to drive her to Macca’s“ Chris sighed, getting up to indulge his begging daughter’s wish to go play with Thor. Tom was left turning around on the couch, his right arm resting on the backrest so that he could watch his beautiful y/n bickering with her brother. She was perfect, curling the corners of lips upwards with ease. 

After you were finished arguing with Liam on how to cut a mango the right way, you were huddled up in Tom’s strong arms, the two of you enjoying the privacy at the pool. Light blue pool lights were creating flickering and swaying rays with the tiny waves rippling across the water surface. It was so peaceful, and so was your heart. Almost.

“Tommy?“ “Hmm?“ He hummed, eyes closed and tired from the excruciatingly long day. A stop-over flight, a fateful talk and finding out he was gonna be the dad of twins had the Brit’s mind dizzy.

However, it was a good kind of dizzy, the way you would feel after a fun rollercoaster ride. 

“What do you say about taking some time off? I want to to savor this with you before we have to face reality again“ you spoke, barely audible in the valley between his biceps and torso. You knew it was going to happen and the media outcry would be heavy. Needless to say you weren’t keen on Nate’s fucking stupid comments. 

But they would meet your ears soon enough and you wanted to be prepared.

“Of course. I already told my manager about a break due to personal reasons. Are three weeks fine with you, darling?“ He cooed, dexterous digits toying with a strand of your hair sprawled across his bare chest. You could feel his defined pectorals flexing as his arm reached out to cradle your figure lovingly. 

“More than fine, my love“ you grinned up at him. “We will be stronger than ever“ He added while his ocean blues wandered your bikini clad body greedily. Oh, how well you knew this look and what would follow. 

“I hope so, Tommy. But let’s not waste time on those idiots, shall we?“ You chirped, his subtle beard tickling your delicate skin as your lips sealed agin.

a/n: twins guyssss 🎉 let's see if the newfound happiness lasts

tags: @crimson25 @kikster606 @huntress-artemiss @123forgottherest @lovingchoices14 @ozymdias @vbecker10 @coldnique @lokixryss @simplyholl @peaches1958 @lokibadguy @jennyggggrrr @stephenstrangeaddictions @holymultiplefandomsbatman @mischief2sarawr @mypsychoticlove @mochie85 @muddyorbs @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @simping-for-marvel @lady-rose-moon @goblingirlsarah @kats72 @vickie5446 @buffyfan2833 @12-pm-510 @ladymischief11 @somewiseguy @woooonau @cabingrlandrandomcrap @alchemxx @honeyrydernot

[ladycamillewrites]

Sunday ramblings….

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Voting ended onFeb 20, 2023

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❍ Will Ransome x f!reader

❍ written for @muddyorbs 14 days of Valentines event

warnings 18+ eventual smut, memory loss - retrograde amnesia, soft foreplay

A strange feeling swirled like a thunderstorm in your brain as you tried to open those heavy lids.

Groaning from the rays of sunshine invading your sensitive eyes, they fluttered open, numerous outlines slowly becoming recognizable.

You didn’t know where you were at first but the nightstand on your left was weirdly familiar, a glass of water waiting on top of the wooden surface. Still overwhelmed by the headache and several hurting limbs you reached out to the glass, took a few sips and placed it back.

Then, for the first time since you woke, you turned to your right. 

“Darling! You are awake“ a foreign man said gleefully, a broad smile spreading on his handsome face as his arms quickly extended in your direction.

Why on earth was there a stranger, no two strangers in your bedroom?

Squeaking and prepping yourself on flattened palms, you scooted away from the man whose oceanic gaze dramatically dropped the second you reacted. With the few skittish glances you took, it was unmistakable that the other man on the right was a doctor.

Where you seriously ill?

“Don’t touch me“ it blurted out of you, hands fumbling with the eiderdown to cover your cleavage on full display by a loose nightgown. 

The man flinched, however, the reached out hand froze where he held it like a still standing offer. God, who was this pervert thinking he could just come with along with the doctor and call you pet names. 

Or perhaps he was a doctor as well?

Somehow, it felt like a fever dream, your thoughts still skittish and intangible while a wondrously handsome man wordlessly begged for your touch. 

“Are you still hurt? Dove, please talk to me“ his soothing baritone rung in your ear for the first time, sounding like it could’ve been god himself calling you up to him. Where you to die? 

Shaking your head, loose hair flying along, you tried to grip a reasonable reflection on the whole scenario that was all too weird.

Where were you manners, you asked yourself trying to concentrate on reality rather than the puffy irritation in your brain. There must be a simple explanation for those two gentleman to look after you. 

Why-ever the handsome brown haired with the ethereal speck of ginger in those loose waves was calling you darling, though, remained a pressing riddle.

“I- apologies doctor. I am just moderately unwell“ you spoke, volume kept low to not overstrain your palpably strained mind. Somehow you just assumed the fine man in his puffy white shirt and the brown vest to be a practitioner as well. 

Watching his face twitch and eyebrows slant in what seemed like a last ray of hope, he leaned closer to you, the magical ban of those steel blue orbs keeping you in place. “Y/n Ransome… I beg you. Do not play games on me after yesterday’s accident“.

“Y/n Ransome“ you murmured to yourself, concentrating on the sound of your first name with this certain last. It didn’t fit. It didn’t seem right, no, this wasn’t your correct full name.

The second man sitting farther in the corner just watched you through narrowed eyes, rubbing his chin as if he was analyzing you. Repeating your silent murmur in a deep whisper, the fine man who had called you darling became utterly confused, lips screwing shut. 

Perhaps they landed in the wrong room of your parent’s huge farm house. It had -how many rooms were there again, you wondered, brows furrowing in deep confusion.

“You must be mistaken. My name is not Ransome“ you said gaze directed at the two man again. 

The one close to you snorted, shooting up from the chair, looking like he was about to get in bed with you. Panicking you pulled the duvet even closer, pivoting to the left.

Away from the man you would have laid with if met differently. 

“Will“ the black haired man in the back began, his tone gaining urgency as he continued to talk “Please let me. Just a moment“.

It sounded like a question though. 

Will, as you now knew, nodded in defeat, eyes as blue as the north sea water on a sunny day. You could get lost in him. Who was this fine stranger your heart yearned to know? 

Boldness from god knows where let you investigate every inch of his face. It was almost rude staring but you couldn't help it.

Oh, there was something about him, something magical and so deeply soothing that it almost excused his intrusive behavior. Perhaps he looked familiar after all? A new inhabitant of Aldwinter?

No…

“Yn?” The second man called out for your attention, your eyes quickly distracted and jumping from Will to the doctor. 

“If you’re last name name is not Ransome, what is it then?”

You couldn’t help yourself but giggle at his stupid question. A thing you could ask a preschooler. But your brows twitched for a short moment when you heard the blonde man next to you chuckle lightly. 

Was this fun to him? Or was he just happy that whatever accident had allegedly befallen you hadn’t left any serious injury? 

Pulling your gaze back to the black haired man, you didn’t spend a single thought on his question. It was ridiculous. 

“What kind of medical examination is that?” You started quipping “Of course I know my last name, it’s…”

And then your face dropped, exited hands freezing and sinking back down onto the duvet. His question was simple however, you couldn’t answer. 

Slowly your completely derailed expression met Will’s who seemed just as shocked as you, palms pressed against his temples, fingers flowing in line with the creases on his forehead. Those wonderful blue eyes were widened however, the hue of hope was nearly dried out.

“I’m- I’m supposed to know this“ you whispered, rocking back and forth like a disturbed child. 

The doctor came closer, one hand resting supportingly on Will’s shoulder before he spoke “I'm afraid my worst misgiving has come true. The accident has caused retrograde amnesia but I don’t yet know how long it will last“. 

“Wha- What d you mean how long it will last?“ 

Two painful weeks of learning things that once had been a matter of course and getting disappointed in your damaged memory were behind you when you made you way to the office room in your spacious house. 

To see your husband Will Ransome.

It still sounded like a made up fairytale a drunken fellow began to tell with his tenth mug of beer pivoting in his perilous grip.

The vicar was a dreamy man; calm, collated and blissfully charming. Not to forget the fine way he looked with his white puffy shirts, sleeves rolled up and first top buttons undone. And those eyes… 

To your heart it was no wonder your previous you had married him. 

However, things always got more complicated when the complexity of a human brain got involved. As it was with you. 

People were giving you weird, somehow pitying looks, some even constantly visited you do see whether you would remember names and things now, after the accident. It was surely well, mostly good will thriving in the people of Aldwinter but you desperately needed to be seen as normal again.

Although you still were far from reaching your old, normal state of mind, it didn’t hinder you from craving a bit of the normality an unlucky fate had stolen from you.

And this prior reality, this life you had built up also meant a healthy relationship to your husband. 

And there you were wearing a flimsy, silky nightgown with no underwear, fresh out of the bathtub with hair smelling like flowering roses. On your way to seduce your husband. You wanted him to show you what got destroyed, to override your empty memories with something unforgettable.

Candle light was casting sinful shadows on Will’s sharp features as you spotted him sitting on his desk and probably musing for what to talk about in his upcoming Easter Sermon. The beard lit up in a gingerly tone, almost mingling with the flames while his dark blonde hair fell in fluffy waves leading down to one of his notorious white shirts.

Naturally, it hung open and displayed his chiseled chest with a sluttish undertone.

God, you had difficulties restraining yourself around him for the last two weeks. It was a costant fight of mind against heart and body who had traitorously teamed up to pour oil in your newly aflame fire of lust. 

Tonight it shall happen you told yourself, feeling that you were ready to enter this reality again.

Sighing, Will propped his chin on his thumbs, palms pressed together in front of his nose. A desperate pose yet he looked like carved marble.

You crept up on him like a silent Jaguar on a mission, slowly hoisting your hands to let them rest on his shoulders.

The vicar flinched from the sudden, unexpected touch until your breathy “shhh“ soothed his strained nerves. 

Beginning to apply pressure on the strings of muscle lying underneath white fabric, you could feel him relax again, the low hum escaping his mouth surrounded you like a hord of butterflies fleeing straight in your belly.

It tickled whenever you heard him speak.

“My darling… what you doing down here this late?“ Your husband asked, his reflection in the mirror orange from licking flames, eyes softly shut and mouth curled in a silent smile. Visibly at peace. 

A peace that was only to find in a halcyon normalcy; a state you wanted to fully dive in again. 

You couldn’t help but blush at the true nature of your late visit, a few seconds of pregnant silence forcing you to say something. “I- well, I simply wanted to look after my husband who is working so hard to please his people“.

Half the truth half secrecy was the path you chose. 

It was far too early to simply sneak up on him whispering that you craved his body close to yours, your limbs entangled with his and his cock deep…

“I’m doing fine, y/n. Really. This speech just won’t write itself“ Will’s deep chuckle interrupted your unholy cascade of lust making you focus on the massage again.

Hell, you were nervous. Just as nervous as in the many mornings a dream about your husband got you occupied during breakfast, watching Will greedily licking honey from his dexterous digits.

Your eyes darted back up to meet his reflection, the delighted oceanic gaze melting within yours when he returned the glance. They were full of love and warmth, just like his whole demeanor as you had learned again.

Those emotions consumed you, no, it had swallowed you whole since you knew who he was. 

Eventually his eyes let you make a decision in an instant. Almost instinctively when you drank him in.

Dragging your hands up towards the defined apex of his neck, you lowered your head letting it rest right next to Will’s while fingers drew small circles around his Adam’s apple. Muscle and veins popped out when he raked his head, moulding into your touch like you had never experienced before. 

Well, technically you did but seeing it now, watching him give in to you and shatter his guard for you to explore his soul was utterly touching. Almost made you cry if there wasn’t the growing arousal pooling in your panties…

“Perhaps a creative pause will do” you cooed right in his ear, eyes catching the soft hair on his skin shooting up like loyal soldiers. Loyal to your touch, your voice.

Those velvety lips you had started kissing again a week ago were slowly curled up in a cunning smirk, the ginger hue of his beard glowing redder than ever. 

Feeling him rocking back in the chair, spinning it slowly on one foot you soon found yourself facing him, your husband. It was magical, feeling like a steel blue jinx you would never want to escape. 

Humming in gentle approval Will’s lips met yours when you straddles his lap. Feeling his mouth twitch at your sudden boldness you couldn’t suppress a giggle as sweet as honey. 

“My beautiful wife, I told you it can wait” the vicar murmured in between loving kisses, his slick tongue invading your mouth, toying with your tongue in a feverish manner. 

You snaked your arms around his neck shifting on his lap what drew a coarse moan from your husband’s starved lips. A sinful sound yet so heavenly to hear.

“Will, please... I- I want things to be normal again” you whispered, the plea skittishly peeking out of your low voice. 

He knew. You had been fighting for status quo since the day you woke up, working hard and thriving. 

But this, this very special request was taking him by surprise.

“Darling, I love you so. But are you sure you're ready to take such a big step?” his soothing baritone rung close to your ear, interrupted by a sharp hiss as you dragged your crotch across his hardening cock. “G-God you temptress. Are you s-sure?”. 

“I’ve dreamt of you, Will” you breathed, hips becoming more and more demanding, searching the friction of grinding against his rock hard member. 

It felt like salvation even though completely unfamiliar to your wounded mind. A healing balm perhaps. 

A quiet squeak left your sealed lips when two strong hands dug in the flesh of your hips, keeping you pressed onto his clothed cock. “I want you to swear that you feel ready, dove. I would never push you to sleep with me” 

For a second your breath ran cold, a sugary pill of anxiety swallowed. You had done it before only unbeknownst to your damaged mind.

Of course the blonde man saw your brows slant.

“You are my wife and I have sworn before god to protect and revere you” he began, raising a gentle hand to lovingly tug a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips leaving a sizzling sensation.

Well, you wanted him. There was no waiting.

“Tell me about that dream, sweet woman” Will coaxed more to bubble out of your heating body, your naked feet wrapped around his calves and torso held tight by the vicars strong arms. 

Home, as you recognized it.

“At night, w-when I sleep-” you started, voice trembling like a lamb exposed to the wolf and cheeks blushing cherry red. Get a grip, you told yourself, he was your husband for god's sake. 

“What exactly are you dreaming of my little angel?” 

He was impatient. A lusty vicar waiting for you to finish your lewd prayers. 

“Of you... a-and me. How you make love to me in our bedroom and moan my name. How you feel between my thighs and- and deep inside“.

“I see“ Will chuckled, leaning forward to take over your play of seduction. The deep shouldering echo of his voice felt close as his perfect teeth ghosted across your pulse point, lips embracing your soft skin.

The friction became as hot as the fire blazing wildly in your fireplace, a thin layer of sweat making your skin glow.

Humming against your neck, taking in your scent Will's mind replayed the thousands of nights he had been intimate with you. For you it would be like a first so the vicar had to be careful, had to restrain his deepest desires.

“Promise, dove. Promise me that you tell me if something doesn't feel good“.

“I swear“ you panted, hair sliding down your shoulders when you cocked your head and bounced on his bucking hips.

A feeling you had forgotten you craved so bad. A feeling far beyond your most erotic dreams.

“Good girl“ Will's breath felt like a flame licking at your body, igniting and nourishing the fire of lust simmering inside your body.

Then, suddenly, he stood up, hoisting you on your wobbly knees before hasty hands began to shuffle your nightgown. Nodding with a meek smile, the blonde man accepted your consent eventually coaxed the silk off.

You stood naked before him; your fully clothed husband.

“You're heaven sent, y/n. Nothing but god's most beautiful angel“.

The words of praise dripped from his mouth like a heady cocktail of love, admiration and awe. A mixture you would never of no matter how hard it might have been to fight your way back.

One of his big hand was wrapped around the back of your throat, the other caressing and twisting your nipples just right.

A deep sigh ascended your mouth, muscles beginning to relax while the lusty heat crept up on your every cell.

“I will be gentle, dove“ the vicar purred against your cleavage, his body weight pushing you backwards until you sunk down, laying on a fluffy lambskin rug.

Closer to the fire burning right next to you, closer to being burnt by your own fire. A fortuitous metaphor.

“I trust you“ you whimpered when Will's strong hips weaved in between your legs, the soft fabric of his pants brushing your sensitive nud. Gasping, the whirlwind of desire was about to swallow you while your husband purred the sweetest of praises with his right hand traveling down your exposed body.

“I will make you feel so good... Let me worship my dazzling wife just how she deserves“.

And your legs dropped further open without a grain of reluctance. At the newfound access you felt his fingertips caress your slick folds. “Will-“ you didn't even knew what it was you wanted but all your mind knew was him.

Your handsome husband smiling down at you with desire in his oceanic orbs, flames still casting moving shadows on his sharp features and the orange light giving him an ethereal halo.

He was a god himself.

It was perfect. The rosy, harmonic normalcy you craved was wrapping you in a blissful haze far beyond your best imagination.

“Dove?“ the question was low, carefully placed with his fingers resting and circling around your entrance. Your eyes darted up to meet his, the deep blue hues drowning every last speck of insecurity.

“Hm?“ you hummed against his lips, relishing in the feeling of his weight gently pressing against you as he sunk down to kiss you. “Be honest with me b-but... would it be too much to ask if I claimed you right here?“.

Sizzling shivers ran down your spine at his request. But there was no fear nor anxiety like it had been for the past time. Just him and the gleeful renaissance of a familiar passion.

“Make love to me, Will“ you finally breathed in his ear, hands fumbling with a strand of his hair to keep him close, near the exited heart hammering in your rising chest.

Where his soul lied.

It was never lost, you now realized. Maybe you were denied access but the spark, no matter how small it might have been after the accident, was the eternal one, burning with a matter of course you would never fathom.

“As you wish, milady“ your husband smirked, propping himself on one elbow, velvet lips never leaving your face.

“I- I missed this... you“.

But instead of a real answer you heard his belt unbuckle with a promising clink, the hot tip of his cock soon brushing through your folds.

Your breath got caught on your throat, eyes widened and glued on his reassuring smile that brought you to relax again in a ridiculous instant.

“I know this might be all knew to you again, dove“ he began panting in your ear, voice descending in deeper, purely masculine octaves “But you will soon be howling my name again“.

And with that vow of pleasure he lined himself up, your fingers clasping in the white shirt when your husband slowly inched inside of you. His filthy mouth only added to the overwhelming feeling of being filled, stretched out so good by the man you learned to love. Once again.

“W-Will, ohh godd“.

“Shhh... I know, love, I know“ the vicar soothed your agitated mind, eyebrows slanting in pleasure he had missed for so long. A blissful pleasure only you were able to grant him.

When he bottomed out, a strangled moan of his name drowned the cracking fire, echoing through the whole room, each wall perfectly reflecting the cry of ecstasy. Only to harmonize like a poem with his own groans and unholy cusses.

He felt like heaven, like the ultimate salvation he always preached about.

“Good girl“ Will rasped, hosting himself on his palms, ready to fuck you like he knew your body would remember. “I- I will nghh fuck make up for the time we've lost, darling. I don't care if I miss tomorrow's morning mass“.

And of course he did miss the mess, spending the whole night and morning entangled with his wife, gifting her a hundred precious memories life had taken.

thank you for reading my boos :) I hope I did the 14 days event justice with this little piece. Since the event is about 'firsts' -> this is my very first Will Ransome fic 💜

tags / fyi: @lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtigger @mochie85 @coldnique @springdandelixn @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @toozmanykids @simplyholl @michelleleewise @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @joyful-enchantress @thomase1 @vbecker10 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @huntress-artemiss @lunarnights95 @ladymischief11 @smolvenger

[joyful-enchantress]

Camille! I loved this! Your writing is always so vivid and sensual, I love ❤️

And the way he insisted on making sure he had her full consent, several times, because he was essentially a stranger to her, it made me melt 🫠

I love a soft Will Ransome.

I hope their rigorous activities perhaps rattled the amnesia loose and jogged her memory back into working order 😏

[ladycamillewrites]

Awww you’re the kindest person 🥺💕

Thank you so much for liking my Will I’ve never written him before so I was extra nervous about uploading this 😶‍🌫️ but yayyy it turned out good it seems!! thank you love 💖

[ladycamillewrites]

Against the odds

Chapter eight - Good and Bad News

word count: 3,1k

warnings: 18+ language, angst, light injury, smutty memories, mentions of pregnancy, heartbreak, Nate - he's a whole warning himself

masterlist

“Ouch!“ It blurted out of you, blood began to emit from the hot spot on your lower shin. “Fuck, why me?“ Hysterically you hoisted the silk of your white Prada dress, desperately trying to avoid the small wound to leak on your designer piece. You didn’t even know how much it was worth.

“Darling! Oh god, are you alright?“ it blurted out of your partner, strong arms snaking around your waist to help you in the black limousine. “Anyone a tissue or something?“

“Tom, please. It’s just a little cut“ you tried to calm your boyfriend who was frantically rummaging in the side compartments of your car desperate to find something to stop the bleeding with. “No, y/n. It’s not okay. We don’t even know how deep it goes“ he murmured, a relieved sigh escaping his face spent from all the smiling, as he finally detected a pack of handkerchiefs. "And it's dirty".

“Oh fuuuuck“ you cursed through gritted teeth, the soft fabric burning like fire on your torn flesh. Maybe the concerned Brit was right and a proper stitch up wouldn’t be that bad. You hated hospitals plus you weren’t even in your home country what didn’t enhance the simmering anxiety level.

“Henry, to the St Thomas’ Hospital please“ 

“Darling, I’ll get home real quick and get you some comfy clothes, okay?“ Tom hummed as you were brought to the ER to see a doctor. A soft kiss and a small “It’ll be alright, I promise“ later the tall Brit disappeared in the wicked hallway of London’s hospital. You certainly wouldn’t mind some other clothes since the dress was tight as hell even though it wasn't on the first fitting.

Anyway, you still didn’t want to stain it. Even if you had the money to simply replace it, your mother always taught you to not be lavish.

“Alright, Ms Hemsworth. Looks like the cut is quite deep. I would like to do an MRI scan and some blood tests to make sure that there’s no further damage“ the young doctor explained after taking a look at your cut and testing your ankle’s flexibility. It looked good to you but you weren’t a professional at all so it was alright. As long as Tom would return soon with your favorite jogging pants a t-shirt of his…

“Do what’s necessary, doc“ you smiled at her before the woman took a step closer, a blush creeping up on her tired looking cheeks. “I know that's inappropriate but erm… can I get an autograph maybe?“ She stammered, her hand diving in the pocket of her white coat to pull out a pen and a notebook.

“I learned to surf during my last vacation in Portugal and the instructor showed me a video of you and…“ 

“Of course!“ you chirped, marinating in the newfound comfort. “It’s been a while someone talked to me about surfing“. You began reminiscing about the good old days where a bad tide was your only problem.

Tom was wonderful and nobody had ever made you any happier yet you felt like you were destroying his career instead. To be honest it wasn’t your fault but the media and all those deadly half-truths they mercilessly spread about your persona. It became tiring and even Tom was starting to suffer from your ex and the tattletales of tabloids. 

“Your savior is here“ Tom panted, tearing the door open, his athletic body basically hanging on the door handle as he presented you the trousers you wished for.

He ran here? Your heart just melted. “A nurse will get you in two or three minutes“ the doctor noted, weaving past Tom and grinning like a Cheshire Cat from your lovely autograph with, of course, a special dedication.

“Thanks, Loki. You’re a true hero“ you giggled leaning over to indulge in a loving kiss, Tom’s special cologne still lingering on the dress shirt. Those spontaneous lines he peppered in your daily life were something you learned to love. Those innuendos never failed to make you giggle with joy at how deeply Tom was intertwined with the characters he put his whole heart in.

It was more than fascinating and sometimes in the bedroom things got even more special.

The blue joggers felt perfect and the hoodie Tom had brought you kept your quivering figure warm. It wasn’t that cold in London today however, the pouring rain elicited goosebumps on your whole body as soon as you took a peak through the dark curtains. Honestly, you preferred to have water rippling beneath you instead of it falling from the sky and emitting from angry looking grey clouds. 

“Ms Hemsworth, please follow me“ a nurse suddenly interrupted the nearly improper make-out session, nerves sizzled in depressed frustration as you had to pull away from those velvet lips you couldn’t get enough of.

“Get yourself something to eat, Tommy“ you began, a few growls of his stomachs had betrayed him earlier. “Please“. Reluctantly, the tall blonde nodded leaving the examination room to head towards the cafeteria. 

The MRI was something utterly familiar to you. Surfing could be a cruel sport to do. A bruised spine or squashed ribs weren’t too rare alongside twisted ankles. And since it was only about your leg, the procedure wasn’t straining at all. Luckily, your head was far away from the tight tube so claustrophobia didn’t bother you. 

Back in the examination room, a nurse was taping your slightly sorrow calf muscle, causing you to whine a little from time to time. Such an unnecessary bullshit you cursed internally, after today’s gala went by quite uneventful, whereas your definition of uneventful changed to a maximum occurrence of three negative comments or unabashed question. 

Three.

But what really boggled your mind was that Tom had to endure most of tonight's sassy criticism.

It made your blood boil while that fake smile had to be flawless for all those nosy cameras. It was tragic and perhaps a note of self-destruction but you felt like you were a stumbling block to your lover's bright career. A breathing obstacle that was slowly but steadily destroying his reputation as Britain's golden boy.

And it hurt. It hurt like hell to be the sweet poison in Tom's morning tea he drank so willingly, so blind for the fucked up truth. 

“Ms Hemsworth?“ the lovely doctor's voice echoed across the room. “Good news; the muscle is mostly unharmed and the cut will be fully healed after about two to three weeks” she smiled, watching you sigh with relief.

But then, suddenly, her expression went from 'telling the good news' mode to worrying deeply. Was something wrong with you blood work?

But last time you went to your annual check up everything was fine... 

The woman approached you with lazy steps that expressed the foggy whirlwind in her mind. She was young, not as experienced as the other doctors in the ER so it was her first time delivering such kind of news to a completely unaware and naive woman. 

“I suppose you didn’t know you were pregnant?” She eventually asked, voice dropped to a low, careful pitch trying hard not to startle you to death. But shock wasn’t your first reaction, no, it was denial. Sweet, torturous denial like you always applied. Your relationship with Nate going downhill so much earlier than your actual breakup was traumatic testament to that. You could have parted form him months before the breakup and it would have been far from unjust.

“Pardon me, I’m what?” 

“The special hormone hCG is significantly high what clearly indicates pregnancy” the doctor explained still ever as careful and restrained but the message was clear as a lonely night. 

“This can’t be... Wha- How can I?” You stammered, cheeks pumping crimson red as you began to chew your nails, searching your memory for anything what could explain or proof this very unrealistic finding.

And then it hit you like an 18-wheeler truck on a straight highway…

“Darling? Should I-“ Tom panted in between heavy kisses, his angry hips already bucking up against your crotch. 

One of your palms pressed flush against the backseat window while your other hand was ranking through your lover’s golden curls. “No, it’ll be fine, Tom“ you whined battling the friction of his bare erection teetering between your parted legs as you straddled his lap. He smelled so musky, so masculine and it got you heady.

 The runtime of the film you watched on the cinema date was longer than expected, leaving no time for you lust-drunken lovebirds to wait until you reached Tom’s bedroom. His car had to suffice and luckily, the backseat area was broad enough for your shins to part around his and rest on the black leather. 

Passionate whispers and lewd growls filled the blacked out car to the hilt as the windows began to fog up from labored breaths. With a strangled cry of “Thomas“ you sank down, allowing the fire of pleasure to burn you from the core. 

This was the time he got you pregnant. One fucking time without protection and the wonder you’ve been running after for a tiring long time with Nate just happened. Out of nowhere.

It was terrific, frightening you to the bones whereas it was beautiful and intense at the same time.

But no matter how or when or what, this baby existed and making sure he or she was okay was inevitable now. There was plenty of time to cry about the breach in your emotional dam later. And to tell Tom.

Maybe, you should after all, right?

“Ho-how far along am I?” your voice was nothing more than a dying whisper, your painted nails frantically clicking on the sterile countertop. The baby was Tom’s without a single doubt, luckily, but you simply needed to know whether it was this small, deemed inconsequential accident that really grew a new life in your belly.

“Approximately ten weeks so the first trimester is almost already over” she smiled softly, wrapping the shocking news in glossy gift paper that said ‘yay look how far you’ve come'.

But little did she knew this child was more than just unplanned and unrecognized until now. It was a wonder to you after tryin for a baby with Nate for a tiring and depressingly long time. Without success.

And now that you’ve found the love of your love it should’ve just magically clicked?

This was hardly an explanation to your shattered mind. Sounded like a cheap plot point borrowed from a bad romcom.

As the coy woman applied the cold ultrasound probe on your not pregnant looking belly you twitched from the unfamiliar feeling. “Is it healthy?“ Your own voice sounded distant to you as if a blacked out curtain was separating your body and soul in a state of excerption.

Nothing truly felt real.

“Oh, yes! Everything seems just fine“ she began, skilled eyes trailing the screen and quick fingers taking first measurements for your records. A relived sigh escaped your sore throat while your fucked up mind just hoped for Tom to stay wherever he was right now.

Perhaps it was tragically wrong but you needed some time to process this on your own before you could feel ready to tell the love of your life you had never talked with about having kids, that he was going to be father in ridiculous six to seven months.

Gosh, how the hell could you have been pregnant for ten weeks without knowing or jumping up on any hints. It felt so bizarre.

After begging her to keep shut about it whereas she subjected to the obligation of silence anyway you stuffed the anti-inflammatory gel for your wound in your bag and said a hurried goodbye.

This day would be the young doctor's most special one for a very long time, you were sure about it. But for you this day has been a life changing roller coaster ride in uncharted, deep waters. 

But for now you needed a few days to cope…

“My darling, are you sure you’re feeling alright?“ Tom’s caring voice embraced you in a soothing hug that vanished as soon as you thought about the reason for your shy behavior. It had been a long week since the fateful visit at the hospital but your emotional chaos was far from tidied up. 

Too far.

Quite the contrary, it was ignited by numerous tabloid articles and posts saying how you weren’t the right partner for Tom and how you were supposedly bad for his career. The Moralizer wasn’t even released yet nevertheless, the voices got loud already. Nate got your life fucked up and you just didn’t possess the strength to do away with all this bullshit.

It crawled under your skin like a scalpel but it shouldn't. You were helpless.

You just huffed, hiding your spent face in the crook of your lover's neck, one hand resting on your belly where his child was growing.

Still unbeknownst to the hot Brit who would sell his entire life to be with you. At least that’s hoe he felt while you were manipulated and corrupted by the all the crude comments.

“Just tired, Tommy”. You were starting to believe that this was bad for Thomas and his life. That you were bad for him.

“Hmm” the soft hum hit your bones nudging your sensitive heart that was overwhelmed by pregnancy hormones and the crushing pressure on your delicate shoulders. You would love nothing more than to tell him but would he really be happy? Maybe they were right and this whole thing was a fling, a mere spark until he found someone else. 

“Then let’s head home, shall we?” the gentle smile put his pearl white teeth in full display as his strong arm wrapped around your waist. Your face twitched in undefinable emotions as Tom’s big hand brushed your lower belly.

If he only knew… would he speak to him or her? Would he stroke your hardly visible bump? 

A tired nod rolled your neck, every muscle felt sore and used whereas it was all in your head. It was just in your head and on multiple covers of tabloids or all around instagram and twitter. Reality was harsh on you while your lover tried his utmost best to comfort you with his deeds of love. 

You loved Tom more than anything.

Another man in your life was a sheer impossibility because he would never meet the gold standards your handsome Brit had set with such elegance. When you closed your eyes you could see him flashing those suggestive glances at you when he supposed you weren’t looking that turned to hungry eyes worshipping every inch of your body while you howled his name out to the moon.

A journey full of beauty and upbringing of broken hearts.

“I love you Thomas. So much” the whisper was nearly audible yet it felt most natural and right. 'Love' and your partner’s name were two words as deeply intertwined as sky and blue. The way his velvet lips curled in a sheepish smile before he kissed you with hollowed cheeks putting the sharp bone structure on full display.

He was perfection; on the inside as well as on the outside and in every possible angle. 

And you were the one to destroy the paradisiac image that was Thomas William Hiddleston. Hell would break loose if they only knew about your pregnancy. Especially after the heated drama with Nate and all his indiscreet comments on the reason for your rather sudden breakup.

Needless to mention the quarrel about you being pregnant after a ridiculous half a year of officially being a couple. 

Tears were teetering on the brink of running free as you scrolled through your phone in the middle of the night. Baby Hiddles had taken your sleep away once again, your hormones totally deranging your sleep schedule. It began to be exhausting but needless to say, you were totally lucky to have experienced such a calm first trimester. 

Such a totally uneventful one that lead you to find out by accident.

Then, your jaw clenched nervously as a notification from instagram popped up during your good old nightly session of HayDay. Someone sold a damn tape for only 100 coins, an item you were in desperate need of however, your cheeky finger tapped on the message. 

< Nate Thompson officially pitying Tom Hiddleston for his relationship with Y/n Hemsworth; “if I was him I’d pack stuff and run as long as she hasn’t already destroyed my reputation“ >

“Oh, he did not” you breathed, hot tears were battling their way through your eyelids while the cheeks they brushed turned cherry red from unchained guilt feelings.

It was good old Nate who was just mindlessly trying to keep you in a wicked cage but the effect his comment had on your already damaged conscience was massive. Like a thunder striking a pile of dry wood. It was bursting up in flames. Just like that.

A frantically quivering hand found Tom’s steadily breathing chest, your fingertips graying the valleys of his skin. He was precious and utterly talented, a true gift to the world of acting and movie lovers.

The Brit shouldn’t be made a living target. Not one of your kind.

You couldn’t beat this syndrome of yours being contagious after all but Nate was right. It had already infected Tom and he should back off as long as there wasn’t too much negative criticism about the charmingly smiling man. 

You were the problem, so you were going to solve it, you decided internally, fingers clenching tighter around the cold phone. Small sobs and whimpers were muffled by Tom’s black duvet as shaky fingers booked the last free seat in business class from London to Australia. 

Elsa promptly texted you that it was perfectly fine if you visited them for a few weeks so you slipped out of the king sized bed you shared so many memories of pure passion and deep devotion with. By chance, you got in the first flight tomorrow making you have to leave for the airport when Tom must be still asleep. 

Cruel, you were well aware, but talking to him was something you couldn’t bear. Your heart would just burst into even smaller fragments if you truly had to face him and tell the man who treated you like a queen that you were bad for him. That you were leaving only because of the sake of his own career.

Never you could posses the strength to break a heart so cherished so a piece of paper and a pen had to suffice.

Dear Tom,

I am heartbroken to tell you that while you’re reading this I’m on my way back to Australia. All those comments, headlines and posts about us were too much for me to bear and not only Nate attacking you now instead of me is something I cannot live with. Never would I wish to be the cause of your dream to end so please carry on, Thomas. I won’t be standing in your way anymore… 

Love, y/n

The paper was draped on Tom’s nightstand as the first rays of sun tickled his bare skin, a white rose was placed right across the bloody lines. The drawers of his wardrobe were open… and painfully empty while your suitcase had disappeared from his subtle closet.

You were gone alongside your most important things. And what he still didn’t knew; his child.

It left him on his knees, a painful, deep cry echoed though the modern apartment sounding like a lonely wolf emitting his very last howl.

Your small sobs and whimpers were already thousands of kilometers away, carrying the weight of having broken not only one but two hearts at once. And you hated the thought of having shattered Tom’s who had given everything to put yours together again. 

You felt awful but you needed some distance. Otherwise it would devour you relentlessly. 

Liam: I’m just boarding my 🛩️ right now. I promise I will be there when you arrive, Arielle. Love you😘

Y/n: Thanks, I really miss you 💙

a/n: sorry guys for breaking your heart :( But I promise it's gonna be good soon enough! They deserve an happy ending don't they haha

tags: @crimson25 @kikster606 @huntress-artemiss @123forgottherest @lovingchoices14 @ozymdias @vbecker10 @coldnique @lokixryss @simplyholl @peaches1958 @lokibadguy @jennyggggrrr @stephenstrangeaddictions @holymultiplefandomsbatman @mischief2sarawr @mypsychoticlove @mochie85 @muddyorbs @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @simping-for-marvel @lady-rose-moon @goblingirlsarah @kats72 @vickie5446 @buffyfan2833 @12-pm-510 @ladymischief11 @somewiseguy @woooonau @cabingrlandrandomcrap @alchemxx @honeyrydernot

[ladycamillewrites]

By @vbecker10 🤍

▪️Gif drabbles day 1 (18+, ~700 words)

Spying on the captain

“What the hell are you doing, rookie?” Conrad’s voice startled you to death, a hasty hand slamming his laptop shut. You had no idea for how long the captain who was assigned your watchdog on this nerve-wracking expedition had watched you. You were new in the special forces however, your presence has been a delight to Conrad’s usually so well under control body.

Broad, muscled shoulders formed the apex of his defined biceps and sinfully exposed forearms as he leaned against the wall so casually. The stubble of his lately shaved beard played around the sharp jawline like a weapon. The steel blue of his slightly narrowed eyes pierced you like of the hooks the camp doctor used to stitch wounds.

“Captain, I’m sorry but… I-“ your voice lost it's usual strength as the handsome man easily nudged himself off the wall, long legs striding towards you until the ex soldier towered right in front of your anxious self. God, he could be intimidating, no wonder they literally begged him to join this mission. Amusement in between hues of chiding strictness emitted from his eyes like deadly radiation. Deadly to your panties.

“Were you spying on me, rookie?” He rasped, strong arms parting and caging your heavily rising chest between the backrest of your chair and the table. “You're aware that this won’t be a peaceful promenade through the local park, hm? Why then wasting your time on spying on your captain, y/l/n?” Conrad's baritone voice mused bringing his right arm up to this sweet mouth you've secretly been dying to kiss. The bulging biceps strained the lash fabric of his dark blue shirt like a threat to everyone who laid eyes on them, now leading to his rosy lips.

…how they would feel sinfully tugging and nudging your most sensitive parts while low hums made them vibrate, the rosy skin powerless against the sound of seething masculinity. How he would lick lazy trails across your cleavage while you mounted his thick thighs. How your body would bounce of the sheer force of his experienced and deadly muscles; many well tuned soldiers assembling if their captain called to sate his need. Would he be rough with those raspy fingers which could rest on the trigger of an M16 completely motionless but always ready to kill? Or would he prefer to fuck you slow, sensual thrusts massaging your body into his mattress while he groaned like a starved man?

“Now we’re daydreaming. Sweet” Conrad chided with this playful smirk on his lips he always put on when watching you train in the base-camp. 'Idiot' you internally damned his cheeky words, blinking a few times to make sure your improper brain truly had returned to reality. “I was just thinking about-“ you began feigning self-confidence to veil the throbbing lust that coated your breath like morning fog in the rainforest you were trapped in. But the swift uncrossing of displayed forearms cut you off.

A flawless string of white teeth was revealed, artistically reflecting the dimmed tube light like a painting. Conrad’s sharp bone structure was underlined by hollowed cheeks as the soldier ripped the small clasp of his watch open. With his teeth. There was something savage about him, almost primal layered in his sceptical nature you just couldn’t get over.

With a dull thud the leather band of his watch was tossed on the table, the silver case sliding across the wooden surface and stopping right in front of your chest. Without even brushing your skin he pulled his arms crossed again turning one boot in the dirty, squeaky tiles. He was about to leave, thank god.

“Come to my tent in exactly ten minutes. I suppose we shall find a solution to your little distraction-problem, rookie” he snickered, something dark flashing in his blue orbs like a whizzing by shooting star. Your legs clenched in excitement and the lump in your throat grew tighter as if you were strangled by the fact that both Captain Conrad and you knew what he really meant. A smirk adorned his unique face like jewelry before he left the room.

Devouring every passed second like a sugary treat you waited impatiently to go off and find the tall framed man in his private tent. To enter the shank tank and bury the professional relationship you kept to your captain six feet under. To hell with all those rules and circumstances. If it was true was they told about the status of the cartography process you wouldn’t be here for too long anyway…

Taglist; @holdmytesseract @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @muddyorbs @mochie85 @xorpsbane @loz-3 @yukio369 @silverfire475 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @assemblingavenger

[ladycamillewrites]

αмηєѕια 🦋

❍ Will Ransome x f!reader

❍ written for @muddyorbs 14 days of Valentines event

warnings 18+ eventual smut, memory loss - retrograde amnesia, soft foreplay

A strange feeling swirled like a thunderstorm in your brain as you tried to open those heavy lids.

Groaning from the rays of sunshine invading your sensitive eyes, they fluttered open, numerous outlines slowly becoming recognizable.

You didn’t know where you were at first but the nightstand on your left was weirdly familiar, a glass of water waiting on top of the wooden surface. Still overwhelmed by the headache and several hurting limbs you reached out to the glass, took a few sips and placed it back.

Then, for the first time since you woke, you turned to your right. 

“Darling! You are awake“ a foreign man said gleefully, a broad smile spreading on his handsome face as his arms quickly extended in your direction.

Why on earth was there a stranger, no two strangers in your bedroom?

Squeaking and prepping yourself on flattened palms, you scooted away from the man whose oceanic gaze dramatically dropped the second you reacted. With the few skittish glances you took, it was unmistakable that the other man on the right was a doctor.

Where you seriously ill?

“Don’t touch me“ it blurted out of you, hands fumbling with the eiderdown to cover your cleavage on full display by a loose nightgown. 

The man flinched, however, the reached out hand froze where he held it like a still standing offer. God, who was this pervert thinking he could just come with along with the doctor and call you pet names. 

Or perhaps he was a doctor as well?

Somehow, it felt like a fever dream, your thoughts still skittish and intangible while a wondrously handsome man wordlessly begged for your touch. 

“Are you still hurt? Dove, please talk to me“ his soothing baritone rung in your ear for the first time, sounding like it could’ve been god himself calling you up to him. Where you to die? 

Shaking your head, loose hair flying along, you tried to grip a reasonable reflection on the whole scenario that was all too weird.

Where were you manners, you asked yourself trying to concentrate on reality rather than the puffy irritation in your brain. There must be a simple explanation for those two gentleman to look after you. 

Why-ever the handsome brown haired with the ethereal speck of ginger in those loose waves was calling you darling, though, remained a pressing riddle.

“I- apologies doctor. I am just moderately unwell“ you spoke, volume kept low to not overstrain your palpably strained mind. Somehow you just assumed the fine man in his puffy white shirt and the brown vest to be a practitioner as well. 

Watching his face twitch and eyebrows slant in what seemed like a last ray of hope, he leaned closer to you, the magical ban of those steel blue orbs keeping you in place. “Y/n Ransome… I beg you. Do not play games on me after yesterday’s accident“.

“Y/n Ransome“ you murmured to yourself, concentrating on the sound of your first name with this certain last. It didn’t fit. It didn’t seem right, no, this wasn’t your correct full name.

The second man sitting farther in the corner just watched you through narrowed eyes, rubbing his chin as if he was analyzing you. Repeating your silent murmur in a deep whisper, the fine man who had called you darling became utterly confused, lips screwing shut. 

Perhaps they landed in the wrong room of your parent’s huge farm house. It had -how many rooms were there again, you wondered, brows furrowing in deep confusion.

“You must be mistaken. My name is not Ransome“ you said gaze directed at the two man again. 

The one close to you snorted, shooting up from the chair, looking like he was about to get in bed with you. Panicking you pulled the duvet even closer, pivoting to the left.

Away from the man you would have laid with if met differently. 

“Will“ the black haired man in the back began, his tone gaining urgency as he continued to talk “Please let me. Just a moment“.

It sounded like a question though. 

Will, as you now knew, nodded in defeat, eyes as blue as the north sea water on a sunny day. You could get lost in him. Who was this fine stranger your heart yearned to know? 

Boldness from god knows where let you investigate every inch of his face. It was almost rude staring but you couldn't help it.

Oh, there was something about him, something magical and so deeply soothing that it almost excused his intrusive behavior. Perhaps he looked familiar after all? A new inhabitant of Aldwinter?

No…

“Yn?” The second man called out for your attention, your eyes quickly distracted and jumping from Will to the doctor. 

“If you’re last name name is not Ransome, what is it then?”

You couldn’t help yourself but giggle at his stupid question. A thing you could ask a preschooler. But your brows twitched for a short moment when you heard the blonde man next to you chuckle lightly. 

Was this fun to him? Or was he just happy that whatever accident had allegedly befallen you hadn’t left any serious injury? 

Pulling your gaze back to the black haired man, you didn’t spend a single thought on his question. It was ridiculous. 

“What kind of medical examination is that?” You started quipping “Of course I know my last name, it’s…”

And then your face dropped, exited hands freezing and sinking back down onto the duvet. His question was simple however, you couldn’t answer. 

Slowly your completely derailed expression met Will’s who seemed just as shocked as you, palms pressed against his temples, fingers flowing in line with the creases on his forehead. Those wonderful blue eyes were widened however, the hue of hope was nearly dried out.

“I’m- I’m supposed to know this“ you whispered, rocking back and forth like a disturbed child. 

The doctor came closer, one hand resting supportingly on Will’s shoulder before he spoke “I'm afraid my worst misgiving has come true. The accident has caused retrograde amnesia but I don’t yet know how long it will last“. 

“Wha- What d you mean how long it will last?“ 

Two painful weeks of learning things that once had been a matter of course and getting disappointed in your damaged memory were behind you when you made you way to the office room in your spacious house. 

To see your husband Will Ransome.

It still sounded like a made up fairytale a drunken fellow began to tell with his tenth mug of beer pivoting in his perilous grip.

The vicar was a dreamy man; calm, collated and blissfully charming. Not to forget the fine way he looked with his white puffy shirts, sleeves rolled up and first top buttons undone. And those eyes… 

To your heart it was no wonder your previous you had married him. 

However, things always got more complicated when the complexity of a human brain got involved. As it was with you. 

People were giving you weird, somehow pitying looks, some even constantly visited you do see whether you would remember names and things now, after the accident. It was surely well, mostly good will thriving in the people of Aldwinter but you desperately needed to be seen as normal again.

Although you still were far from reaching your old, normal state of mind, it didn’t hinder you from craving a bit of the normality an unlucky fate had stolen from you.

And this prior reality, this life you had built up also meant a healthy relationship to your husband. 

And there you were wearing a flimsy, silky nightgown with no underwear, fresh out of the bathtub with hair smelling like flowering roses. On your way to seduce your husband. You wanted him to show you what got destroyed, to override your empty memories with something unforgettable.

Candle light was casting sinful shadows on Will’s sharp features as you spotted him sitting on his desk and probably musing for what to talk about in his upcoming Easter Sermon. The beard lit up in a gingerly tone, almost mingling with the flames while his dark blonde hair fell in fluffy waves leading down to one of his notorious white shirts.

Naturally, it hung open and displayed his chiseled chest with a sluttish undertone.

God, you had difficulties restraining yourself around him for the last two weeks. It was a costant fight of mind against heart and body who had traitorously teamed up to pour oil in your newly aflame fire of lust. 

Tonight it shall happen you told yourself, feeling that you were ready to enter this reality again.

Sighing, Will propped his chin on his thumbs, palms pressed together in front of his nose. A desperate pose yet he looked like carved marble.

You crept up on him like a silent Jaguar on a mission, slowly hoisting your hands to let them rest on his shoulders.

The vicar flinched from the sudden, unexpected touch until your breathy “shhh“ soothed his strained nerves. 

Beginning to apply pressure on the strings of muscle lying underneath white fabric, you could feel him relax again, the low hum escaping his mouth surrounded you like a hord of butterflies fleeing straight in your belly.

It tickled whenever you heard him speak.

“My darling… what you doing down here this late?“ Your husband asked, his reflection in the mirror orange from licking flames, eyes softly shut and mouth curled in a silent smile. Visibly at peace. 

A peace that was only to find in a halcyon normalcy; a state you wanted to fully dive in again. 

You couldn’t help but blush at the true nature of your late visit, a few seconds of pregnant silence forcing you to say something. “I- well, I simply wanted to look after my husband who is working so hard to please his people“.

Half the truth half secrecy was the path you chose. 

It was far too early to simply sneak up on him whispering that you craved his body close to yours, your limbs entangled with his and his cock deep…

“I’m doing fine, y/n. Really. This speech just won’t write itself“ Will’s deep chuckle interrupted your unholy cascade of lust making you focus on the massage again.

Hell, you were nervous. Just as nervous as in the many mornings a dream about your husband got you occupied during breakfast, watching Will greedily licking honey from his dexterous digits.

Your eyes darted back up to meet his reflection, the delighted oceanic gaze melting within yours when he returned the glance. They were full of love and warmth, just like his whole demeanor as you had learned again.

Those emotions consumed you, no, it had swallowed you whole since you knew who he was. 

Eventually his eyes let you make a decision in an instant. Almost instinctively when you drank him in.

Dragging your hands up towards the defined apex of his neck, you lowered your head letting it rest right next to Will’s while fingers drew small circles around his Adam’s apple. Muscle and veins popped out when he raked his head, moulding into your touch like you had never experienced before. 

Well, technically you did but seeing it now, watching him give in to you and shatter his guard for you to explore his soul was utterly touching. Almost made you cry if there wasn’t the growing arousal pooling in your panties…

“Perhaps a creative pause will do” you cooed right in his ear, eyes catching the soft hair on his skin shooting up like loyal soldiers. Loyal to your touch, your voice.

Those velvety lips you had started kissing again a week ago were slowly curled up in a cunning smirk, the ginger hue of his beard glowing redder than ever. 

Feeling him rocking back in the chair, spinning it slowly on one foot you soon found yourself facing him, your husband. It was magical, feeling like a steel blue jinx you would never want to escape. 

Humming in gentle approval Will’s lips met yours when you straddles his lap. Feeling his mouth twitch at your sudden boldness you couldn’t suppress a giggle as sweet as honey. 

“My beautiful wife, I told you it can wait” the vicar murmured in between loving kisses, his slick tongue invading your mouth, toying with your tongue in a feverish manner. 

You snaked your arms around his neck shifting on his lap what drew a coarse moan from your husband’s starved lips. A sinful sound yet so heavenly to hear.

“Will, please... I- I want things to be normal again” you whispered, the plea skittishly peeking out of your low voice. 

He knew. You had been fighting for status quo since the day you woke up, working hard and thriving. 

But this, this very special request was taking him by surprise.

“Darling, I love you so. But are you sure you're ready to take such a big step?” his soothing baritone rung close to your ear, interrupted by a sharp hiss as you dragged your crotch across his hardening cock. “G-God you temptress. Are you s-sure?”. 

“I’ve dreamt of you, Will” you breathed, hips becoming more and more demanding, searching the friction of grinding against his rock hard member. 

It felt like salvation even though completely unfamiliar to your wounded mind. A healing balm perhaps. 

A quiet squeak left your sealed lips when two strong hands dug in the flesh of your hips, keeping you pressed onto his clothed cock. “I want you to swear that you feel ready, dove. I would never push you to sleep with me” 

For a second your breath ran cold, a sugary pill of anxiety swallowed. You had done it before only unbeknownst to your damaged mind.

Of course the blonde man saw your brows slant.

“You are my wife and I have sworn before god to protect and revere you” he began, raising a gentle hand to lovingly tug a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips leaving a sizzling sensation.

Well, you wanted him. There was no waiting.

“Tell me about that dream, sweet woman” Will coaxed more to bubble out of your heating body, your naked feet wrapped around his calves and torso held tight by the vicars strong arms. 

Home, as you recognized it.

“At night, w-when I sleep-” you started, voice trembling like a lamb exposed to the wolf and cheeks blushing cherry red. Get a grip, you told yourself, he was your husband for god's sake. 

“What exactly are you dreaming of my little angel?” 

He was impatient. A lusty vicar waiting for you to finish your lewd prayers. 

“Of you... a-and me. How you make love to me in our bedroom and moan my name. How you feel between my thighs and- and deep inside“.

“I see“ Will chuckled, leaning forward to take over your play of seduction. The deep shouldering echo of his voice felt close as his perfect teeth ghosted across your pulse point, lips embracing your soft skin.

The friction became as hot as the fire blazing wildly in your fireplace, a thin layer of sweat making your skin glow.

Humming against your neck, taking in your scent Will's mind replayed the thousands of nights he had been intimate with you. For you it would be like a first so the vicar had to be careful, had to restrain his deepest desires.

“Promise, dove. Promise me that you tell me if something doesn't feel good“.

“I swear“ you panted, hair sliding down your shoulders when you cocked your head and bounced on his bucking hips.

A feeling you had forgotten you craved so bad. A feeling far beyond your most erotic dreams.

“Good girl“ Will's breath felt like a flame licking at your body, igniting and nourishing the fire of lust simmering inside your body.

Then, suddenly, he stood up, hoisting you on your wobbly knees before hasty hands began to shuffle your nightgown. Nodding with a meek smile, the blonde man accepted your consent eventually coaxed the silk off.

You stood naked before him; your fully clothed husband.

“You're heaven sent, y/n. Nothing but god's most beautiful angel“.

The words of praise dripped from his mouth like a heady cocktail of love, admiration and awe. A mixture you would never of no matter how hard it might have been to fight your way back.

One of his big hand was wrapped around the back of your throat, the other caressing and twisting your nipples just right.

A deep sigh ascended your mouth, muscles beginning to relax while the lusty heat crept up on your every cell.

“I will be gentle, dove“ the vicar purred against your cleavage, his body weight pushing you backwards until you sunk down, laying on a fluffy lambskin rug.

Closer to the fire burning right next to you, closer to being burnt by your own fire. A fortuitous metaphor.

“I trust you“ you whimpered when Will's strong hips weaved in between your legs, the soft fabric of his pants brushing your sensitive nud. Gasping, the whirlwind of desire was about to swallow you while your husband purred the sweetest of praises with his right hand traveling down your exposed body.

“I will make you feel so good... Let me worship my dazzling wife just how she deserves“.

And your legs dropped further open without a grain of reluctance. At the newfound access you felt his fingertips caress your slick folds. “Will-“ you didn't even knew what it was you wanted but all your mind knew was him.

Your handsome husband smiling down at you with desire in his oceanic orbs, flames still casting moving shadows on his sharp features and the orange light giving him an ethereal halo.

He was a god himself.

It was perfect. The rosy, harmonic normalcy you craved was wrapping you in a blissful haze far beyond your best imagination.

“Dove?“ the question was low, carefully placed with his fingers resting and circling around your entrance. Your eyes darted up to meet his, the deep blue hues drowning every last speck of insecurity.

“Hm?“ you hummed against his lips, relishing in the feeling of his weight gently pressing against you as he sunk down to kiss you. “Be honest with me b-but... would it be too much to ask if I claimed you right here?“.

Sizzling shivers ran down your spine at his request. But there was no fear nor anxiety like it had been for the past time. Just him and the gleeful renaissance of a familiar passion.

“Make love to me, Will“ you finally breathed in his ear, hands fumbling with a strand of his hair to keep him close, near the exited heart hammering in your rising chest.

Where his soul lied.

It was never lost, you now realized. Maybe you were denied access but the spark, no matter how small it might have been after the accident, was the eternal one, burning with a matter of course you would never fathom.

“As you wish, milady“ your husband smirked, propping himself on one elbow, velvet lips never leaving your face.

“I- I missed this... you“.

But instead of a real answer you heard his belt unbuckle with a promising clink, the hot tip of his cock soon brushing through your folds.

Your breath got caught on your throat, eyes widened and glued on his reassuring smile that brought you to relax again in a ridiculous instant.

“I know this might be all knew to you again, dove“ he began panting in your ear, voice descending in deeper, purely masculine octaves “But you will soon be howling my name again“.

And with that vow of pleasure he lined himself up, your fingers clasping in the white shirt when your husband slowly inched inside of you. His filthy mouth only added to the overwhelming feeling of being filled, stretched out so good by the man you learned to love. Once again.

“W-Will, ohh godd“.

“Shhh... I know, love, I know“ the vicar soothed your agitated mind, eyebrows slanting in pleasure he had missed for so long. A blissful pleasure only you were able to grant him.

When he bottomed out, a strangled moan of his name drowned the cracking fire, echoing through the whole room, each wall perfectly reflecting the cry of ecstasy. Only to harmonize like a poem with his own groans and unholy cusses.

He felt like heaven, like the ultimate salvation he always preached about.

“Good girl“ Will rasped, hosting himself on his palms, ready to fuck you like he knew your body would remember. “I- I will nghh fuck make up for the time we've lost, darling. I don't care if I miss tomorrow's morning mass“.

And of course he did miss the mess, spending the whole night and morning entangled with his wife, gifting her a hundred precious memories life had taken.

thank you for reading my boos :) I hope I did the 14 days event justice with this little piece. Since the event is about 'firsts' -> this is my very first Will Ransome fic 💜

tags / fyi: @lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtigger @mochie85 @coldnique @springdandelixn @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @toozmanykids @simplyholl @michelleleewise @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @joyful-enchantress @thomase1 @vbecker10 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @huntress-artemiss @lunarnights95 @ladymischief11 @smolvenger

[coldnique]

Girl. This was so beautiful and emotional 😭

Squeaking and prepping yourself on flattened palms, you scooted away from the man whose oceanic gaze dramatically dropped the second you reacted. 

The beginning broke my heart, though...She was so scared and he had to feel so bad for making feel that way, apart from all his worry about her after that accident.

Will, as you now knew, nodded in defeat, eyes as blue as the north sea water on a sunny day. You could get lost in him. Who was this fine stranger your heart yearned to know? 

Seriously, poor man. - the descriptions are absolutely precious and poetic, as always, you have a way with words. Same with all her inner debate, so beautifully written.

And I love his tenderness and patience, and how intense he gets once he's sure of her wishes.

“I know this might be all knew to you again, dove“ he began panting in your ear, voice descending in deeper, purely masculine octaves “But you will soon be howling my name again“.

Oh god, the things he does to me...

I loved so much this addition, the trope and that you chose Ransome for it. Everything was perfect, my lovely 💜💜💜

[ladycamillewrites]

Omg this just made my day 💙💙

im still in recovery and unfortunately unable to write anything so I’m just occasionally lurking around tumblr and saw THIS 😍 thank you boo those are the kindest words I’m blushing

[ladycamillewrites]

αмηєѕια 🦋

❍ Will Ransome x f!reader

❍ written for @muddyorbs 14 days of Valentines event

warnings 18+ eventual smut, memory loss - retrograde amnesia, soft foreplay

A strange feeling swirled like a thunderstorm in your brain as you tried to open those heavy lids.

Groaning from the rays of sunshine invading your sensitive eyes, they fluttered open, numerous outlines slowly becoming recognizable.

You didn’t know where you were at first but the nightstand on your left was weirdly familiar, a glass of water waiting on top of the wooden surface. Still overwhelmed by the headache and several hurting limbs you reached out to the glass, took a few sips and placed it back.

Then, for the first time since you woke, you turned to your right. 

“Darling! You are awake“ a foreign man said gleefully, a broad smile spreading on his handsome face as his arms quickly extended in your direction.

Why on earth was there a stranger, no two strangers in your bedroom?

Squeaking and prepping yourself on flattened palms, you scooted away from the man whose oceanic gaze dramatically dropped the second you reacted. With the few skittish glances you took, it was unmistakable that the other man on the right was a doctor.

Where you seriously ill?

“Don’t touch me“ it blurted out of you, hands fumbling with the eiderdown to cover your cleavage on full display by a loose nightgown. 

The man flinched, however, the reached out hand froze where he held it like a still standing offer. God, who was this pervert thinking he could just come with along with the doctor and call you pet names. 

Or perhaps he was a doctor as well?

Somehow, it felt like a fever dream, your thoughts still skittish and intangible while a wondrously handsome man wordlessly begged for your touch. 

“Are you still hurt? Dove, please talk to me“ his soothing baritone rung in your ear for the first time, sounding like it could’ve been god himself calling you up to him. Where you to die? 

Shaking your head, loose hair flying along, you tried to grip a reasonable reflection on the whole scenario that was all too weird.

Where were you manners, you asked yourself trying to concentrate on reality rather than the puffy irritation in your brain. There must be a simple explanation for those two gentleman to look after you. 

Why-ever the handsome brown haired with the ethereal speck of ginger in those loose waves was calling you darling, though, remained a pressing riddle.

“I- apologies doctor. I am just moderately unwell“ you spoke, volume kept low to not overstrain your palpably strained mind. Somehow you just assumed the fine man in his puffy white shirt and the brown vest to be a practitioner as well. 

Watching his face twitch and eyebrows slant in what seemed like a last ray of hope, he leaned closer to you, the magical ban of those steel blue orbs keeping you in place. “Y/n Ransome… I beg you. Do not play games on me after yesterday’s accident“.

“Y/n Ransome“ you murmured to yourself, concentrating on the sound of your first name with this certain last. It didn’t fit. It didn’t seem right, no, this wasn’t your correct full name.

The second man sitting farther in the corner just watched you through narrowed eyes, rubbing his chin as if he was analyzing you. Repeating your silent murmur in a deep whisper, the fine man who had called you darling became utterly confused, lips screwing shut. 

Perhaps they landed in the wrong room of your parent’s huge farm house. It had -how many rooms were there again, you wondered, brows furrowing in deep confusion.

“You must be mistaken. My name is not Ransome“ you said gaze directed at the two man again. 

The one close to you snorted, shooting up from the chair, looking like he was about to get in bed with you. Panicking you pulled the duvet even closer, pivoting to the left.

Away from the man you would have laid with if met differently. 

“Will“ the black haired man in the back began, his tone gaining urgency as he continued to talk “Please let me. Just a moment“.

It sounded like a question though. 

Will, as you now knew, nodded in defeat, eyes as blue as the north sea water on a sunny day. You could get lost in him. Who was this fine stranger your heart yearned to know? 

Boldness from god knows where let you investigate every inch of his face. It was almost rude staring but you couldn't help it.

Oh, there was something about him, something magical and so deeply soothing that it almost excused his intrusive behavior. Perhaps he looked familiar after all? A new inhabitant of Aldwinter?

No…

“Yn?” The second man called out for your attention, your eyes quickly distracted and jumping from Will to the doctor. 

“If you’re last name name is not Ransome, what is it then?”

You couldn’t help yourself but giggle at his stupid question. A thing you could ask a preschooler. But your brows twitched for a short moment when you heard the blonde man next to you chuckle lightly. 

Was this fun to him? Or was he just happy that whatever accident had allegedly befallen you hadn’t left any serious injury? 

Pulling your gaze back to the black haired man, you didn’t spend a single thought on his question. It was ridiculous. 

“What kind of medical examination is that?” You started quipping “Of course I know my last name, it’s…”

And then your face dropped, exited hands freezing and sinking back down onto the duvet. His question was simple however, you couldn’t answer. 

Slowly your completely derailed expression met Will’s who seemed just as shocked as you, palms pressed against his temples, fingers flowing in line with the creases on his forehead. Those wonderful blue eyes were widened however, the hue of hope was nearly dried out.

“I’m- I’m supposed to know this“ you whispered, rocking back and forth like a disturbed child. 

The doctor came closer, one hand resting supportingly on Will’s shoulder before he spoke “I'm afraid my worst misgiving has come true. The accident has caused retrograde amnesia but I don’t yet know how long it will last“. 

“Wha- What d you mean how long it will last?“ 

Two painful weeks of learning things that once had been a matter of course and getting disappointed in your damaged memory were behind you when you made you way to the office room in your spacious house. 

To see your husband Will Ransome.

It still sounded like a made up fairytale a drunken fellow began to tell with his tenth mug of beer pivoting in his perilous grip.

The vicar was a dreamy man; calm, collated and blissfully charming. Not to forget the fine way he looked with his white puffy shirts, sleeves rolled up and first top buttons undone. And those eyes… 

To your heart it was no wonder your previous you had married him. 

However, things always got more complicated when the complexity of a human brain got involved. As it was with you. 

People were giving you weird, somehow pitying looks, some even constantly visited you do see whether you would remember names and things now, after the accident. It was surely well, mostly good will thriving in the people of Aldwinter but you desperately needed to be seen as normal again.

Although you still were far from reaching your old, normal state of mind, it didn’t hinder you from craving a bit of the normality an unlucky fate had stolen from you.

And this prior reality, this life you had built up also meant a healthy relationship to your husband. 

And there you were wearing a flimsy, silky nightgown with no underwear, fresh out of the bathtub with hair smelling like flowering roses. On your way to seduce your husband. You wanted him to show you what got destroyed, to override your empty memories with something unforgettable.

Candle light was casting sinful shadows on Will’s sharp features as you spotted him sitting on his desk and probably musing for what to talk about in his upcoming Easter Sermon. The beard lit up in a gingerly tone, almost mingling with the flames while his dark blonde hair fell in fluffy waves leading down to one of his notorious white shirts.

Naturally, it hung open and displayed his chiseled chest with a sluttish undertone.

God, you had difficulties restraining yourself around him for the last two weeks. It was a costant fight of mind against heart and body who had traitorously teamed up to pour oil in your newly aflame fire of lust. 

Tonight it shall happen you told yourself, feeling that you were ready to enter this reality again.

Sighing, Will propped his chin on his thumbs, palms pressed together in front of his nose. A desperate pose yet he looked like carved marble.

You crept up on him like a silent Jaguar on a mission, slowly hoisting your hands to let them rest on his shoulders.

The vicar flinched from the sudden, unexpected touch until your breathy “shhh“ soothed his strained nerves. 

Beginning to apply pressure on the strings of muscle lying underneath white fabric, you could feel him relax again, the low hum escaping his mouth surrounded you like a hord of butterflies fleeing straight in your belly.

It tickled whenever you heard him speak.

“My darling… what you doing down here this late?“ Your husband asked, his reflection in the mirror orange from licking flames, eyes softly shut and mouth curled in a silent smile. Visibly at peace. 

A peace that was only to find in a halcyon normalcy; a state you wanted to fully dive in again. 

You couldn’t help but blush at the true nature of your late visit, a few seconds of pregnant silence forcing you to say something. “I- well, I simply wanted to look after my husband who is working so hard to please his people“.

Half the truth half secrecy was the path you chose. 

It was far too early to simply sneak up on him whispering that you craved his body close to yours, your limbs entangled with his and his cock deep…

“I’m doing fine, y/n. Really. This speech just won’t write itself“ Will’s deep chuckle interrupted your unholy cascade of lust making you focus on the massage again.

Hell, you were nervous. Just as nervous as in the many mornings a dream about your husband got you occupied during breakfast, watching Will greedily licking honey from his dexterous digits.

Your eyes darted back up to meet his reflection, the delighted oceanic gaze melting within yours when he returned the glance. They were full of love and warmth, just like his whole demeanor as you had learned again.

Those emotions consumed you, no, it had swallowed you whole since you knew who he was. 

Eventually his eyes let you make a decision in an instant. Almost instinctively when you drank him in.

Dragging your hands up towards the defined apex of his neck, you lowered your head letting it rest right next to Will’s while fingers drew small circles around his Adam’s apple. Muscle and veins popped out when he raked his head, moulding into your touch like you had never experienced before. 

Well, technically you did but seeing it now, watching him give in to you and shatter his guard for you to explore his soul was utterly touching. Almost made you cry if there wasn’t the growing arousal pooling in your panties…

“Perhaps a creative pause will do” you cooed right in his ear, eyes catching the soft hair on his skin shooting up like loyal soldiers. Loyal to your touch, your voice.

Those velvety lips you had started kissing again a week ago were slowly curled up in a cunning smirk, the ginger hue of his beard glowing redder than ever. 

Feeling him rocking back in the chair, spinning it slowly on one foot you soon found yourself facing him, your husband. It was magical, feeling like a steel blue jinx you would never want to escape. 

Humming in gentle approval Will’s lips met yours when you straddles his lap. Feeling his mouth twitch at your sudden boldness you couldn’t suppress a giggle as sweet as honey. 

“My beautiful wife, I told you it can wait” the vicar murmured in between loving kisses, his slick tongue invading your mouth, toying with your tongue in a feverish manner. 

You snaked your arms around his neck shifting on his lap what drew a coarse moan from your husband’s starved lips. A sinful sound yet so heavenly to hear.

“Will, please... I- I want things to be normal again” you whispered, the plea skittishly peeking out of your low voice. 

He knew. You had been fighting for status quo since the day you woke up, working hard and thriving. 

But this, this very special request was taking him by surprise.

“Darling, I love you so. But are you sure you're ready to take such a big step?” his soothing baritone rung close to your ear, interrupted by a sharp hiss as you dragged your crotch across his hardening cock. “G-God you temptress. Are you s-sure?”. 

“I’ve dreamt of you, Will” you breathed, hips becoming more and more demanding, searching the friction of grinding against his rock hard member. 

It felt like salvation even though completely unfamiliar to your wounded mind. A healing balm perhaps. 

A quiet squeak left your sealed lips when two strong hands dug in the flesh of your hips, keeping you pressed onto his clothed cock. “I want you to swear that you feel ready, dove. I would never push you to sleep with me” 

For a second your breath ran cold, a sugary pill of anxiety swallowed. You had done it before only unbeknownst to your damaged mind.

Of course the blonde man saw your brows slant.

“You are my wife and I have sworn before god to protect and revere you” he began, raising a gentle hand to lovingly tug a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips leaving a sizzling sensation.

Well, you wanted him. There was no waiting.

“Tell me about that dream, sweet woman” Will coaxed more to bubble out of your heating body, your naked feet wrapped around his calves and torso held tight by the vicars strong arms. 

Home, as you recognized it.

“At night, w-when I sleep-” you started, voice trembling like a lamb exposed to the wolf and cheeks blushing cherry red. Get a grip, you told yourself, he was your husband for god's sake. 

“What exactly are you dreaming of my little angel?” 

He was impatient. A lusty vicar waiting for you to finish your lewd prayers. 

“Of you... a-and me. How you make love to me in our bedroom and moan my name. How you feel between my thighs and- and deep inside“.

“I see“ Will chuckled, leaning forward to take over your play of seduction. The deep shouldering echo of his voice felt close as his perfect teeth ghosted across your pulse point, lips embracing your soft skin.

The friction became as hot as the fire blazing wildly in your fireplace, a thin layer of sweat making your skin glow.

Humming against your neck, taking in your scent Will's mind replayed the thousands of nights he had been intimate with you. For you it would be like a first so the vicar had to be careful, had to restrain his deepest desires.

“Promise, dove. Promise me that you tell me if something doesn't feel good“.

“I swear“ you panted, hair sliding down your shoulders when you cocked your head and bounced on his bucking hips.

A feeling you had forgotten you craved so bad. A feeling far beyond your most erotic dreams.

“Good girl“ Will's breath felt like a flame licking at your body, igniting and nourishing the fire of lust simmering inside your body.

Then, suddenly, he stood up, hoisting you on your wobbly knees before hasty hands began to shuffle your nightgown. Nodding with a meek smile, the blonde man accepted your consent eventually coaxed the silk off.

You stood naked before him; your fully clothed husband.

“You're heaven sent, y/n. Nothing but god's most beautiful angel“.

The words of praise dripped from his mouth like a heady cocktail of love, admiration and awe. A mixture you would never of no matter how hard it might have been to fight your way back.

One of his big hand was wrapped around the back of your throat, the other caressing and twisting your nipples just right.

A deep sigh ascended your mouth, muscles beginning to relax while the lusty heat crept up on your every cell.

“I will be gentle, dove“ the vicar purred against your cleavage, his body weight pushing you backwards until you sunk down, laying on a fluffy lambskin rug.

Closer to the fire burning right next to you, closer to being burnt by your own fire. A fortuitous metaphor.

“I trust you“ you whimpered when Will's strong hips weaved in between your legs, the soft fabric of his pants brushing your sensitive nud. Gasping, the whirlwind of desire was about to swallow you while your husband purred the sweetest of praises with his right hand traveling down your exposed body.

“I will make you feel so good... Let me worship my dazzling wife just how she deserves“.

And your legs dropped further open without a grain of reluctance. At the newfound access you felt his fingertips caress your slick folds. “Will-“ you didn't even knew what it was you wanted but all your mind knew was him.

Your handsome husband smiling down at you with desire in his oceanic orbs, flames still casting moving shadows on his sharp features and the orange light giving him an ethereal halo.

He was a god himself.

It was perfect. The rosy, harmonic normalcy you craved was wrapping you in a blissful haze far beyond your best imagination.

“Dove?“ the question was low, carefully placed with his fingers resting and circling around your entrance. Your eyes darted up to meet his, the deep blue hues drowning every last speck of insecurity.

“Hm?“ you hummed against his lips, relishing in the feeling of his weight gently pressing against you as he sunk down to kiss you. “Be honest with me b-but... would it be too much to ask if I claimed you right here?“.

Sizzling shivers ran down your spine at his request. But there was no fear nor anxiety like it had been for the past time. Just him and the gleeful renaissance of a familiar passion.

“Make love to me, Will“ you finally breathed in his ear, hands fumbling with a strand of his hair to keep him close, near the exited heart hammering in your rising chest.

Where his soul lied.

It was never lost, you now realized. Maybe you were denied access but the spark, no matter how small it might have been after the accident, was the eternal one, burning with a matter of course you would never fathom.

“As you wish, milady“ your husband smirked, propping himself on one elbow, velvet lips never leaving your face.

“I- I missed this... you“.

But instead of a real answer you heard his belt unbuckle with a promising clink, the hot tip of his cock soon brushing through your folds.

Your breath got caught on your throat, eyes widened and glued on his reassuring smile that brought you to relax again in a ridiculous instant.

“I know this might be all knew to you again, dove“ he began panting in your ear, voice descending in deeper, purely masculine octaves “But you will soon be howling my name again“.

And with that vow of pleasure he lined himself up, your fingers clasping in the white shirt when your husband slowly inched inside of you. His filthy mouth only added to the overwhelming feeling of being filled, stretched out so good by the man you learned to love. Once again.

“W-Will, ohh godd“.

“Shhh... I know, love, I know“ the vicar soothed your agitated mind, eyebrows slanting in pleasure he had missed for so long. A blissful pleasure only you were able to grant him.

When he bottomed out, a strangled moan of his name drowned the cracking fire, echoing through the whole room, each wall perfectly reflecting the cry of ecstasy. Only to harmonize like a poem with his own groans and unholy cusses.

He felt like heaven, like the ultimate salvation he always preached about.

“Good girl“ Will rasped, hosting himself on his palms, ready to fuck you like he knew your body would remember. “I- I will nghh fuck make up for the time we've lost, darling. I don't care if I miss tomorrow's morning mass“.

And of course he did miss the mess, spending the whole night and morning entangled with his wife, gifting her a hundred precious memories life had taken.

thank you for reading my boos :) I hope I did the 14 days event justice with this little piece. Since the event is about 'firsts' -> this is my very first Will Ransome fic 💜

tags / fyi: @lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtigger @mochie85 @coldnique @springdandelixn @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @toozmanykids @simplyholl @michelleleewise @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @joyful-enchantress @thomase1 @vbecker10 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @huntress-artemiss @lunarnights95 @ladymischief11 @smolvenger

[lokisgoodgirl]

This was such a beautifully constructed story 🥹 I could feel her confusion and the tension in the room.

Slowly your completely derailed expression met Will’s who seemed just as shocked as you, palms pressed against his temples, fingers flowing in line with the creases on his forehead. Those wonderful blue eyes were widened however, the hue of hope was nearly dried out.

“I’m- I’m supposed to know this“ you whispered, rocking back and forth like a disturbed child. 

Honestly the way Will acts towards her is so endearing and beautiful 🥹🫠melting. I know this is your first ransome fic but you have him down.

“My beautiful wife, I told you it can wait” the vicar murmured in between loving kisses, his slick tongue invading your mouth, toying with your tongue in a feverish manner. 

BUT having said that, his insistence that she’s ready is super sexy. And the smut oh my god 🤣🤣I was not prepped. absolutely phenomenal. I’m a little dazed and confused.

“I will be gentle, dove“ the vicar purred against your cleavage, his body weight pushing you backwards until you sunk down, laying on a fluffy lambskin rug.

Absolutely awesome. Loved every word.

[ladycamillewrites]

Ohhh I'm still drugged with narcotics but I'm blushing hard at your reblog💙

Thank you so so much omg those are sooo kind compliments!!

Also the Trump gif with that certain excerpt had me wheezing like a dog🤣But hey you're right it CANNOT wait😏

[ladycamillewrites]

αмηєѕια 🦋

❍ Will Ransome x f!reader

❍ written for @muddyorbs 14 days of Valentines event

warnings 18+ eventual smut, memory loss - retrograde amnesia, soft foreplay

A strange feeling swirled like a thunderstorm in your brain as you tried to open those heavy lids.

Groaning from the rays of sunshine invading your sensitive eyes, they fluttered open, numerous outlines slowly becoming recognizable.

You didn’t know where you were at first but the nightstand on your left was weirdly familiar, a glass of water waiting on top of the wooden surface. Still overwhelmed by the headache and several hurting limbs you reached out to the glass, took a few sips and placed it back.

Then, for the first time since you woke, you turned to your right. 

“Darling! You are awake“ a foreign man said gleefully, a broad smile spreading on his handsome face as his arms quickly extended in your direction.

Why on earth was there a stranger, no two strangers in your bedroom?

Squeaking and prepping yourself on flattened palms, you scooted away from the man whose oceanic gaze dramatically dropped the second you reacted. With the few skittish glances you took, it was unmistakable that the other man on the right was a doctor.

Where you seriously ill?

“Don’t touch me“ it blurted out of you, hands fumbling with the eiderdown to cover your cleavage on full display by a loose nightgown. 

The man flinched, however, the reached out hand froze where he held it like a still standing offer. God, who was this pervert thinking he could just come with along with the doctor and call you pet names. 

Or perhaps he was a doctor as well?

Somehow, it felt like a fever dream, your thoughts still skittish and intangible while a wondrously handsome man wordlessly begged for your touch. 

“Are you still hurt? Dove, please talk to me“ his soothing baritone rung in your ear for the first time, sounding like it could’ve been god himself calling you up to him. Where you to die? 

Shaking your head, loose hair flying along, you tried to grip a reasonable reflection on the whole scenario that was all too weird.

Where were you manners, you asked yourself trying to concentrate on reality rather than the puffy irritation in your brain. There must be a simple explanation for those two gentleman to look after you. 

Why-ever the handsome brown haired with the ethereal speck of ginger in those loose waves was calling you darling, though, remained a pressing riddle.

“I- apologies doctor. I am just moderately unwell“ you spoke, volume kept low to not overstrain your palpably strained mind. Somehow you just assumed the fine man in his puffy white shirt and the brown vest to be a practitioner as well. 

Watching his face twitch and eyebrows slant in what seemed like a last ray of hope, he leaned closer to you, the magical ban of those steel blue orbs keeping you in place. “Y/n Ransome… I beg you. Do not play games on me after yesterday’s accident“.

“Y/n Ransome“ you murmured to yourself, concentrating on the sound of your first name with this certain last. It didn’t fit. It didn’t seem right, no, this wasn’t your correct full name.

The second man sitting farther in the corner just watched you through narrowed eyes, rubbing his chin as if he was analyzing you. Repeating your silent murmur in a deep whisper, the fine man who had called you darling became utterly confused, lips screwing shut. 

Perhaps they landed in the wrong room of your parent’s huge farm house. It had -how many rooms were there again, you wondered, brows furrowing in deep confusion.

“You must be mistaken. My name is not Ransome“ you said gaze directed at the two man again. 

The one close to you snorted, shooting up from the chair, looking like he was about to get in bed with you. Panicking you pulled the duvet even closer, pivoting to the left.

Away from the man you would have laid with if met differently. 

“Will“ the black haired man in the back began, his tone gaining urgency as he continued to talk “Please let me. Just a moment“.

It sounded like a question though. 

Will, as you now knew, nodded in defeat, eyes as blue as the north sea water on a sunny day. You could get lost in him. Who was this fine stranger your heart yearned to know? 

Boldness from god knows where let you investigate every inch of his face. It was almost rude staring but you couldn't help it.

Oh, there was something about him, something magical and so deeply soothing that it almost excused his intrusive behavior. Perhaps he looked familiar after all? A new inhabitant of Aldwinter?

No…

“Yn?” The second man called out for your attention, your eyes quickly distracted and jumping from Will to the doctor. 

“If you’re last name name is not Ransome, what is it then?”

You couldn’t help yourself but giggle at his stupid question. A thing you could ask a preschooler. But your brows twitched for a short moment when you heard the blonde man next to you chuckle lightly. 

Was this fun to him? Or was he just happy that whatever accident had allegedly befallen you hadn’t left any serious injury? 

Pulling your gaze back to the black haired man, you didn’t spend a single thought on his question. It was ridiculous. 

“What kind of medical examination is that?” You started quipping “Of course I know my last name, it’s…”

And then your face dropped, exited hands freezing and sinking back down onto the duvet. His question was simple however, you couldn’t answer. 

Slowly your completely derailed expression met Will’s who seemed just as shocked as you, palms pressed against his temples, fingers flowing in line with the creases on his forehead. Those wonderful blue eyes were widened however, the hue of hope was nearly dried out.

“I’m- I’m supposed to know this“ you whispered, rocking back and forth like a disturbed child. 

The doctor came closer, one hand resting supportingly on Will’s shoulder before he spoke “I'm afraid my worst misgiving has come true. The accident has caused retrograde amnesia but I don’t yet know how long it will last“. 

“Wha- What d you mean how long it will last?“ 

Two painful weeks of learning things that once had been a matter of course and getting disappointed in your damaged memory were behind you when you made you way to the office room in your spacious house. 

To see your husband Will Ransome.

It still sounded like a made up fairytale a drunken fellow began to tell with his tenth mug of beer pivoting in his perilous grip.

The vicar was a dreamy man; calm, collated and blissfully charming. Not to forget the fine way he looked with his white puffy shirts, sleeves rolled up and first top buttons undone. And those eyes… 

To your heart it was no wonder your previous you had married him. 

However, things always got more complicated when the complexity of a human brain got involved. As it was with you. 

People were giving you weird, somehow pitying looks, some even constantly visited you do see whether you would remember names and things now, after the accident. It was surely well, mostly good will thriving in the people of Aldwinter but you desperately needed to be seen as normal again.

Although you still were far from reaching your old, normal state of mind, it didn’t hinder you from craving a bit of the normality an unlucky fate had stolen from you.

And this prior reality, this life you had built up also meant a healthy relationship to your husband. 

And there you were wearing a flimsy, silky nightgown with no underwear, fresh out of the bathtub with hair smelling like flowering roses. On your way to seduce your husband. You wanted him to show you what got destroyed, to override your empty memories with something unforgettable.

Candle light was casting sinful shadows on Will’s sharp features as you spotted him sitting on his desk and probably musing for what to talk about in his upcoming Easter Sermon. The beard lit up in a gingerly tone, almost mingling with the flames while his dark blonde hair fell in fluffy waves leading down to one of his notorious white shirts.

Naturally, it hung open and displayed his chiseled chest with a sluttish undertone.

God, you had difficulties restraining yourself around him for the last two weeks. It was a costant fight of mind against heart and body who had traitorously teamed up to pour oil in your newly aflame fire of lust. 

Tonight it shall happen you told yourself, feeling that you were ready to enter this reality again.

Sighing, Will propped his chin on his thumbs, palms pressed together in front of his nose. A desperate pose yet he looked like carved marble.

You crept up on him like a silent Jaguar on a mission, slowly hoisting your hands to let them rest on his shoulders.

The vicar flinched from the sudden, unexpected touch until your breathy “shhh“ soothed his strained nerves. 

Beginning to apply pressure on the strings of muscle lying underneath white fabric, you could feel him relax again, the low hum escaping his mouth surrounded you like a hord of butterflies fleeing straight in your belly.

It tickled whenever you heard him speak.

“My darling… what you doing down here this late?“ Your husband asked, his reflection in the mirror orange from licking flames, eyes softly shut and mouth curled in a silent smile. Visibly at peace. 

A peace that was only to find in a halcyon normalcy; a state you wanted to fully dive in again. 

You couldn’t help but blush at the true nature of your late visit, a few seconds of pregnant silence forcing you to say something. “I- well, I simply wanted to look after my husband who is working so hard to please his people“.

Half the truth half secrecy was the path you chose. 

It was far too early to simply sneak up on him whispering that you craved his body close to yours, your limbs entangled with his and his cock deep…

“I’m doing fine, y/n. Really. This speech just won’t write itself“ Will’s deep chuckle interrupted your unholy cascade of lust making you focus on the massage again.

Hell, you were nervous. Just as nervous as in the many mornings a dream about your husband got you occupied during breakfast, watching Will greedily licking honey from his dexterous digits.

Your eyes darted back up to meet his reflection, the delighted oceanic gaze melting within yours when he returned the glance. They were full of love and warmth, just like his whole demeanor as you had learned again.

Those emotions consumed you, no, it had swallowed you whole since you knew who he was. 

Eventually his eyes let you make a decision in an instant. Almost instinctively when you drank him in.

Dragging your hands up towards the defined apex of his neck, you lowered your head letting it rest right next to Will’s while fingers drew small circles around his Adam’s apple. Muscle and veins popped out when he raked his head, moulding into your touch like you had never experienced before. 

Well, technically you did but seeing it now, watching him give in to you and shatter his guard for you to explore his soul was utterly touching. Almost made you cry if there wasn’t the growing arousal pooling in your panties…

“Perhaps a creative pause will do” you cooed right in his ear, eyes catching the soft hair on his skin shooting up like loyal soldiers. Loyal to your touch, your voice.

Those velvety lips you had started kissing again a week ago were slowly curled up in a cunning smirk, the ginger hue of his beard glowing redder than ever. 

Feeling him rocking back in the chair, spinning it slowly on one foot you soon found yourself facing him, your husband. It was magical, feeling like a steel blue jinx you would never want to escape. 

Humming in gentle approval Will’s lips met yours when you straddles his lap. Feeling his mouth twitch at your sudden boldness you couldn’t suppress a giggle as sweet as honey. 

“My beautiful wife, I told you it can wait” the vicar murmured in between loving kisses, his slick tongue invading your mouth, toying with your tongue in a feverish manner. 

You snaked your arms around his neck shifting on his lap what drew a coarse moan from your husband’s starved lips. A sinful sound yet so heavenly to hear.

“Will, please... I- I want things to be normal again” you whispered, the plea skittishly peeking out of your low voice. 

He knew. You had been fighting for status quo since the day you woke up, working hard and thriving. 

But this, this very special request was taking him by surprise.

“Darling, I love you so. But are you sure you're ready to take such a big step?” his soothing baritone rung close to your ear, interrupted by a sharp hiss as you dragged your crotch across his hardening cock. “G-God you temptress. Are you s-sure?”. 

“I’ve dreamt of you, Will” you breathed, hips becoming more and more demanding, searching the friction of grinding against his rock hard member. 

It felt like salvation even though completely unfamiliar to your wounded mind. A healing balm perhaps. 

A quiet squeak left your sealed lips when two strong hands dug in the flesh of your hips, keeping you pressed onto his clothed cock. “I want you to swear that you feel ready, dove. I would never push you to sleep with me” 

For a second your breath ran cold, a sugary pill of anxiety swallowed. You had done it before only unbeknownst to your damaged mind.

Of course the blonde man saw your brows slant.

“You are my wife and I have sworn before god to protect and revere you” he began, raising a gentle hand to lovingly tug a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips leaving a sizzling sensation.

Well, you wanted him. There was no waiting.

“Tell me about that dream, sweet woman” Will coaxed more to bubble out of your heating body, your naked feet wrapped around his calves and torso held tight by the vicars strong arms. 

Home, as you recognized it.

“At night, w-when I sleep-” you started, voice trembling like a lamb exposed to the wolf and cheeks blushing cherry red. Get a grip, you told yourself, he was your husband for god's sake. 

“What exactly are you dreaming of my little angel?” 

He was impatient. A lusty vicar waiting for you to finish your lewd prayers. 

“Of you... a-and me. How you make love to me in our bedroom and moan my name. How you feel between my thighs and- and deep inside“.

“I see“ Will chuckled, leaning forward to take over your play of seduction. The deep shouldering echo of his voice felt close as his perfect teeth ghosted across your pulse point, lips embracing your soft skin.

The friction became as hot as the fire blazing wildly in your fireplace, a thin layer of sweat making your skin glow.

Humming against your neck, taking in your scent Will's mind replayed the thousands of nights he had been intimate with you. For you it would be like a first so the vicar had to be careful, had to restrain his deepest desires.

“Promise, dove. Promise me that you tell me if something doesn't feel good“.

“I swear“ you panted, hair sliding down your shoulders when you cocked your head and bounced on his bucking hips.

A feeling you had forgotten you craved so bad. A feeling far beyond your most erotic dreams.

“Good girl“ Will's breath felt like a flame licking at your body, igniting and nourishing the fire of lust simmering inside your body.

Then, suddenly, he stood up, hoisting you on your wobbly knees before hasty hands began to shuffle your nightgown. Nodding with a meek smile, the blonde man accepted your consent eventually coaxed the silk off.

You stood naked before him; your fully clothed husband.

“You're heaven sent, y/n. Nothing but god's most beautiful angel“.

The words of praise dripped from his mouth like a heady cocktail of love, admiration and awe. A mixture you would never of no matter how hard it might have been to fight your way back.

One of his big hand was wrapped around the back of your throat, the other caressing and twisting your nipples just right.

A deep sigh ascended your mouth, muscles beginning to relax while the lusty heat crept up on your every cell.

“I will be gentle, dove“ the vicar purred against your cleavage, his body weight pushing you backwards until you sunk down, laying on a fluffy lambskin rug.

Closer to the fire burning right next to you, closer to being burnt by your own fire. A fortuitous metaphor.

“I trust you“ you whimpered when Will's strong hips weaved in between your legs, the soft fabric of his pants brushing your sensitive nud. Gasping, the whirlwind of desire was about to swallow you while your husband purred the sweetest of praises with his right hand traveling down your exposed body.

“I will make you feel so good... Let me worship my dazzling wife just how she deserves“.

And your legs dropped further open without a grain of reluctance. At the newfound access you felt his fingertips caress your slick folds. “Will-“ you didn't even knew what it was you wanted but all your mind knew was him.

Your handsome husband smiling down at you with desire in his oceanic orbs, flames still casting moving shadows on his sharp features and the orange light giving him an ethereal halo.

He was a god himself.

It was perfect. The rosy, harmonic normalcy you craved was wrapping you in a blissful haze far beyond your best imagination.

“Dove?“ the question was low, carefully placed with his fingers resting and circling around your entrance. Your eyes darted up to meet his, the deep blue hues drowning every last speck of insecurity.

“Hm?“ you hummed against his lips, relishing in the feeling of his weight gently pressing against you as he sunk down to kiss you. “Be honest with me b-but... would it be too much to ask if I claimed you right here?“.

Sizzling shivers ran down your spine at his request. But there was no fear nor anxiety like it had been for the past time. Just him and the gleeful renaissance of a familiar passion.

“Make love to me, Will“ you finally breathed in his ear, hands fumbling with a strand of his hair to keep him close, near the exited heart hammering in your rising chest.

Where his soul lied.

It was never lost, you now realized. Maybe you were denied access but the spark, no matter how small it might have been after the accident, was the eternal one, burning with a matter of course you would never fathom.

“As you wish, milady“ your husband smirked, propping himself on one elbow, velvet lips never leaving your face.

“I- I missed this... you“.

But instead of a real answer you heard his belt unbuckle with a promising clink, the hot tip of his cock soon brushing through your folds.

Your breath got caught on your throat, eyes widened and glued on his reassuring smile that brought you to relax again in a ridiculous instant.

“I know this might be all knew to you again, dove“ he began panting in your ear, voice descending in deeper, purely masculine octaves “But you will soon be howling my name again“.

And with that vow of pleasure he lined himself up, your fingers clasping in the white shirt when your husband slowly inched inside of you. His filthy mouth only added to the overwhelming feeling of being filled, stretched out so good by the man you learned to love. Once again.

“W-Will, ohh godd“.

“Shhh... I know, love, I know“ the vicar soothed your agitated mind, eyebrows slanting in pleasure he had missed for so long. A blissful pleasure only you were able to grant him.

When he bottomed out, a strangled moan of his name drowned the cracking fire, echoing through the whole room, each wall perfectly reflecting the cry of ecstasy. Only to harmonize like a poem with his own groans and unholy cusses.

He felt like heaven, like the ultimate salvation he always preached about.

“Good girl“ Will rasped, hosting himself on his palms, ready to fuck you like he knew your body would remember. “I- I will nghh fuck make up for the time we've lost, darling. I don't care if I miss tomorrow's morning mass“.

And of course he did miss the mess, spending the whole night and morning entangled with his wife, gifting her a hundred precious memories life had taken.

thank you for reading my boos :) I hope I did the 14 days event justice with this little piece. Since the event is about 'firsts' -> this is my very first Will Ransome fic 💜

tags / fyi: @lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtigger @mochie85 @coldnique @springdandelixn @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @toozmanykids @simplyholl @michelleleewise @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @joyful-enchantress @thomase1 @vbecker10 @holymultiplefandomsbatman @huntress-artemiss @lunarnights95 @ladymischief11 @smolvenger