#reverend ransome x reader

[five-miles-over]

Since I am currently obsessed with your Tom Hiddleston character headcanons and I noticed requests are open👉👈 Could we get some soft, fluffy Headcanons of the Tom Hiddleston characters on their wedding day to you?

Aaah, thank you so much for your request, @queen-paladin and thank you even more for your patience! This was fun to imagine, I hope you like it!

Multi-Character Headcanons: Tom Hiddleston Characters On Their Wedding Day

(Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters or images. This is just a fun listicle, not designed to offend anyone. As always, please feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism below. Thank you, and without any further ado, please enjoy!)

Characters in this list: Will Ransome, King Henry V, Prince Loki Odinson, Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim, Bill Hazeldine, Coriolanus, Jonathan Pine, Robert Laing, Magnus Martinsson, Oakley, Thomas Sharpe, James Conrad, and Jaguar Villain! Tom Hiddleston.

Will Ransome from The Essex Serpent

On his wedding day to you, Reverend Will Ransome would wake up at sunrise, taking his time to wash himself, get dressed, and make his way to the church for his own wedding

He would take advantage of the early hours of the morning to be alone with his own thoughts, except almost all of his thoughts would be on you. Will would mull over how tomorrow, he would wake up as a married man. Instead of an empty bed, Will would find you by his side as his wedded partner, a gift bestowed upon by God for him to cherish for the rest of his life. Instead of spending the morning contemplating in circles, the reverend would be with his newly wed wife, talking to you about his thoughts and eagerly listening to yours. And instead of retiring alone at nightfall, he would be comforted by your warmth and your love, spending hours in your arms until you both drifted off to sleep.

Heavenly father, hallowed be thy name, grant him the strength not to stray from the path of a devoted husband.

After an hour or two of solitude that would finally come to an end after years of longing, Will would politely interact with the guests while taking his rightful place at the altar as the groom.

As soon as Will saw you enter the church, holding a bunch of wildflowers and forget-me-nots, his heart would swell with joy and gratitude. He would silently thank God for bestowing him this gift of spending his life with you. And before the official vows, he would make his own, silent promise to make you happy as possible for as long as he lived.

Wedding superlative: Most likely to get caught in a compromising position right before the ceremony (don't ask me how I know this, I just do)

King Henry V from The Hollow Crown 

On his wedding day to you, King Henry V would remain as stoic as possible in the presence of his servants while they readied him for the ceremony. 

Yet, occasionally his eyes would drift towards the small, intricate portrait of you that stood on his dressing table. Henry commissioned for it to be painted (based on his own description of you) for his personal desire after the first meeting with you. Every morning and every night that he could not be with you, he would look at the portrait and remind himself of the one that ruled his heart, his only beloved. 

And it delighted him to know that one day, that portrait would be replaced with a larger, more grand painting of you and Henry, the rulers of England. Perhaps, if God willed it, you would be holding his future heir in your arms when the time came for your portrait. 

Thinking about the heir would almost make Henry break his stoic facade, not because he would be thinking of fatherhood but because he would be musing over your wedding night. How would you feel after the ceremony? Would you be open to consummating your marriage? 

He would gently lick his bottom lip, remembering the first time he kissed you on the lips. It was on your third meeting, after Henry sweetly asked for your permission to do something so bold as to embrace you. If it weren't for his own restraint, Henry would have been caught blushing like a virgin by his own servants. That would certainly set some tongues wagging about the castle.

"Nev'r has't i seen true beauty until this moment.  How f'rtunate i might not but beest, yond while oth'r men spendeth their whole liveth seeking Elysium, i has't t bef're me", were King Henry's thoughts as soon as he stood in the church, gazing upon you while you entered, wearing a pristine white wedding gown and holding the arm of your father.

(Translation: Never have I seen true beauty until this moment. How fortunate I must be, that while other men spend their whole lives seeking paradise, I have it before me.)

At that moment, all of the royal stoicism the king of England had faded away like the morning dew. He smiled as if he were blessed with everything he could ever want. 

His eyes did not leave you even as you stood beside him at the altar and knelt before the priest. 

Henry recited his vows without flinching or faltering. As soon as the priest gave him permission, the king of England lifted your veil and proudly brought his lips to yours.

Your wedding would be one of the happiest days of the king's life, and one he hoped that you would also cherish

Wedding superlative: Most likely to have a coronation and a wedding on the same day

Prince Loki of Asgard from Thor:

On his wedding day to you, Prince Loki of Asgard would be pacing through the palace in the hours before the ceremony, his hands behind his back

He had already imagined this day more times than he could count, marrying you, the love of his life. And with each day leading up to your wedding, his fantasies would grow so vivid, so exciting, so intimidating that he would hardly be able to sleep

Thoughts would be plaguing his mind every waking moment while the palace was being decorated for the celebrations

Would he be a good husband to you? How would he be able to satisfy you on the wedding night? And what if he displeased you in some way, shape, or form? Would you go to Thor instead and seek comfort in his arms? No…no, no, it couldn't be. Loki shook his head. You loved him. You would never betray him and he would never betray you. 

With a million butterflies in his stomach, he would go to the throne room with Thor by his side, wearing his armor, brand new emerald green robes, and his signature golden horned crown. 

Seeing you standing next to him in a beautiful wedding gown completely took his breath away, and it only strengthened his resolve that he would stay by your side for the rest of his life. 

He would probably struggle to look you in the eye, keeping a shy, boyish smile on his lips the whole time simply because of how much you resembled a goddess of beauty

In the presence of the All-Father, Prince Loki would make his vows to protect you, remain loyal to you, and perform his duties as a husband with utmost respect. And when the time comes, in front of all of Asgard, he would bring his lips to yours, sharing your first kiss as a married couple.

Wedding superlative: Most likely to get shy when putting the ring on his bride's finger

Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim from Avengers: Infinity War 

On his wedding day to you, Loki would probably be overly excited about making sure this wedding was one to remember for the centuries to come

Until he met you, Loki believed he would never be able to find true love, let alone find someone to spend the rest of his life with. But all of that changed when Loki had a crush on you and Thor decided to play Cupid, conveniently leaving his brother alone with you in parks and cafés. Loki and you eventually caught onto Thor's plan, and eventually began placing bets with each other about what stupid excuse Thor would use to leave the situation. The result? Loki fell hopelessly in love with your wit, your humor, and your beauty.

And now that he would finally get the chance to celebrate his union with someone so special, Loki decided to leave no stone unturned in making your wedding as wonderful as possible.

With his brother's help, he arranged to have the magic of Asgard brought to your Midgardian venue, complete with a long banquet, floral arrangements with Asgardian flowers, and even a few lute players to entertain the guests while they dined

Loki even had a special tiara made for you to wear during the wedding - a simple yet elegant golden wreath tiara with diamonds and emeralds. He would've had a more extravagant design made, but every other female in his life suggested that he should choose a tiara that would suit any wedding outfit you chose

The moment he saw you, walking down the aisle in your wedding outfit, his jaw dropped. For a moment, he felt like his heart stopped and he went to Valhalla. When you approached him at the altar, he couldn't help but whisper, "You look absolutely ravishing, my dear…My Queen."

After bringing his hand to your lips, he would recite his vows to you

"I, Loki, prince of Asgard, Odinson, the rightful king of Jotunheim, God of Mischief, do hereby pledge to you my undying fidelity. I promise to always keep you safe, to keep you happy, and to keep you loved. You are my everything, and I will never ever stop fighting for us, wherever our journey may take us. And I swear on all that I hold dear in this life, that I shall never betray you, nor let anyone, man or god alike, take you from me. For as long as I live, you will be my wife and my lover."

Possible first dance song: "The Only Exception" by Paramore

Wedding superlative: Most likely to instigate a brawl between two people at his wedding (and do nothing to stop it)

Bill Hazeldine from Suburban Shootout 

On his wedding day to you, Bill Hazeldine would wake up, giddy as a schoolboy (after being unable to sleep last night until he called you on his mobile). His parents would giggle while he darts about, getting ready at a pace never seen before.

It was no secret that Bill was excited about marrying you. He spent weeks planning the perfect way to propose to you, visiting at least six different jewelry stores for the perfect ring and seeking your entire family's permission two weeks prior. And the night he proposed to you, he surprised you with a homemade attempt of your favorite dessert and your favorite film before presenting the ring to you. 

And of course, you said yes, much to Bill's immense delight. Finally, he would be starting a life with the you, the person whom he loved the most. He would be marrying someone who loved him for who he was and made him feel like he was capable of anything.

When it came to the wedding, Bill would be critical of every single thing about himself, bugging his parents and his best man with questions 

"Is this enough cologne? My tie, is it too short? Please, I don't want her to be disappointed."

"Bill, she loves you," his mother assures him. "She's marrying you. She wants to spend the rest of her life with you. Now stop fretting. You'll sweat through your suit."

After about a thousand assurances and countless intrusive thoughts, Bill would be nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet while waiting at the altar.

But as soon as he saw you, coming down the aisle, all of those thoughts would disappear. All Bill would be able to think of is how gorgeous you are, and how he's going to marry you in front of the whole world. 

Your first dance song would almost 100% be "Wedding Bell Blues" by The Fifth Dimension. It was his mother's choice, and once you heard the lyrics, you couldn't help but approve (seriously, if you haven't heard this song before, look up the lyrics because it's about marrying a guy named Bill)

Also, someone would probably need to make sure that Jewel Diamond doesn't show up and seize the microphone to sing "Part Time Lover" or "Like a Virgin" at the reception. But if that's taken care of, you and Bill will probably have a great time celebrating with your family and friends.

Wedding superlative: Most likely to cry when he sees his bride walk down the aisle

Caius Marcius Coriolanus from Coriolanus

On his wedding day to you, Caius Marcius Coriolanus would put on his armor and his military regalia as if he were going to lead a campaign. His mother insisted that it would make him look distinguished, and send a message that his bride - and their family - ought to treat him with respect. 

Many of his army men and his comrades would be in attendance, some of them even bearing gifts. They all knew of Coriolanus's feelings for you, teasing the general of how reluctant he was to approach you when he saw you for the first time and Cupid struck

But instead of rudely telling them all to shut up as usual, Coriolanus would bear it with gritted silence because deep down, it was all true. Coriolanus deeply loved you, and would never wish to live without you or hurt you in any way. 

Too proud to be caught smiling in public, Coriolanus would simply let his eyes speak his adoration for you when you entered the temple of Mars, dressed in fine robes and jewelry with a veil over your head. 

His eyes darkened with lust when you came closer to him. And in that moment, all he wanted was for the priest to hurry up and stop talking so he could kiss you, claiming you before everyone as his wife

After the ceremony came to an end, Coriolanus would keep one hand on the small of your back, determined to keep you close to him while he musters small talk with the guests…and insults some of them.

At some point, perhaps at sundown, he would cut his conversations short and bid his in-laws good night. Tightening his grip around you, Coriolanus would bring you to his home as fast as possible so he could finally drop his guard and…privately celebrate your union

Wedding superlative: Most likely to get into a fight at his own wedding

Jonathan Pine from The Night Manager

On his wedding day, Jonathan Pine would be extra vigilant, keeping an eagle eye for anything that might go wrong. 

While you were getting ready, he would be pacing along the oceanside and through the rows of seats for a possible threat, or someone who could be smuggling a weapon. Even after Angela Burr assured him that no one knew about his wedding except for the few people in attendance, he would still insist that someone keep a tab on you and give him constant updates while you were getting ready.

Jonathan had already loved and lost someone, and he would never forgive himself if someone took his bride away from him.

Until he saw you, he would not be able to let himself rest for a moment, rubbing the nape of his neck while pacing, adjusting his cufflinks (which happened to be the ones you gifted him for Christmas), and thinking of every single way that someone could sabotage this special day

And the moment you came down the aisle in your beautiful wedding gown, Jonathan would breathe a sigh of relief and beam with pride. At that instant, the only thought in his mind when he looks at you would be how amazing and how happy you look while you approached him. And how every moment leading up to this one was definitely worth it. Nothing would be able to hold a candle to the first time he got to see you as the one he, Jonathan Pine, was going to marry.

Holding your hand, Jonathan would quietly say his vows, knowing that he had already made every single vow to himself when he proposed to you. That in his mind, he had already promised to love you through thick and thin, in good times and bad times, even when the two of you would be miles apart. You would be the one he fights for and stays alive for, every single time.

Possible first dance song: "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls or "The Way You Look Tonight" by Frank Sinatra (Or "Shakespeare" by Miranda Cosgrove)

Wedding superlative: Most likely to have a destination honeymoon

Robert Laing from High-Rise 

On his wedding day with you, Dr. Robert Laing would be thinking of nothing but you, simply put. 

("Ruhi, come now…" "You know what, Robert? Somebody had to say it.")

When Robert originally moved into the high rise, he was disillusioned with the thought of being involved with other people. He wanted to be alone, nothing more. But now, three years after that day? He couldn't picture a day without seeing you, without indulging in your witty banter, without giving you a kiss before going off to the medical school, or without you simply calling his name. It had to be magic of some kind, an enchantment Robert couldn't quite explain with all of his scientific knowledge.

And that's how Robert Laing, a doctor of physiology who lived on the twenty-fifth floor of the high rise, let himself fall in love you and share his life with you. 

Sure, Wilder and a few other guys in the high-rise would be pouring drinks and making crude jokes about Robert finally getting a 'ball and a chain' but Robert knew better. You wouldn't be a ball and a chain to him, but rather an angel. 

With you by his side, Robert could begin a new life at the high rise, one where he wouldn't have to be alone. A life of comfort where he could come home to someone who would care for him, and a life where he would have someone to cherish and protect. It would be a new life with a new purpose, all thanks to you

So when he saw you in your wedding dress for the first time, he couldn't help but stare. You looked like an absolute dream, so radiant and so gorgeous. 

He'd continue to steal glances throughout the ceremony, even while reciting his vows. And when the officiant finally says "you may now kiss your bride", Robert would put one hand around your waist and use his other hand to cradle the back of your head, passionately capturing your lips with his

Possible first dance song: "Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You" by Frankie Valli 

Wedding superlative: Most likely to burn the dance floor at his own wedding (and get quite tipsy in the process)

Second wedding superlative: Most likely to eat more cake than the bride

Magnus Martinsson from Wallander 

On his wedding day to you, Magnus Martinsson would be one of those grooms who makes snarky jokes about his life being "over" but is secretly freaking out on the inside

It wasn't helpful that his colleagues at the station kept making jokes about him being 'tied down' and how you were way out of his league. 

Magnus would find himself in a downward spiral of thoughts about the kind of husband he'd be, and whether you really were making the right choice in marrying him when you could have better. 

His comments might get so bad that even Kurt Wallander would have to intervene and tell him to stop unless he wanted to hurt his bride

Wallander would take Magnus aside and assure him that there are many great things about marriage, and that he is lucky to be spending his life with someone like you. That most men, especially those who joke about marriage being the 'end of their life', would desperately want to find someone who loves them as much as you love Magnus

With those words, Magnus would calm down, fix his curls, and go to the altar to wait for you. And as soon as he saw you walk down the aisle, he would realize how right Kurt was. That he, Magnus Martinsson, was the luckiest man in the world because he was going to marry you. That all of those jokes were false, and the only thing that mattered was how much you loved each other

Magnus might not choose to write his own vows, sticking with the traditional "in sickness and in health, till death do us part", but he would be sure to tell you how much he loved you throughout the wedding

Possible first dance song: "My Girl," by The Temptations

Wedding superlative: Most likely to show up to his own wedding completely hungover

Oakley from Unrelated

On his wedding day to you, Oakley would be the most chill groom ever. Seriously, anything could happen and he'd be the one reminding everyone to calm down. The rings are missing? Don't worry, they'll turn up anyway. 

His chill attitude also means that he would be perfectly fine in getting married while wearing a t-shirt and cargo pants. Somebody might need to drag this cocky handsome bastard into a suit, reminding him it's his goddamn wedding day, not some picnic

Oakley really isn't a fan of formal wear, especially anything that requires a tie

He would probably be joking around with his friends, having a smoke during the hour before the ceremony. 

He wouldn't even be freaking out about the fact that he'll soon be a married man because…this is exactly what he wanted the minute he fell in love with you. He knew that he needed you in his life, that you were the one he wanted to love for the rest of his days, and that the best thing to do was to tell you exactly that… before asking you to marry him

And the moment he saw you standing in your wedding dress for the first time, all of those memories left his mind and the only thing that Oakley could think about…was how he would never forget this moment. And that if the world were to end tomorrow, he would be the luckiest guy on the planet just because he would get to call you - this gorgeous, funny, and kind person standing before him - his wife.

Also, Oakley would totally be the type to make his wedding kiss with you totally epic, either picking you up and spinning you around, or turn it into a dip and kiss (which looks something like this)

Possible first dance song: "Teenage Dream" by Boyce Avenue or "Lucky," by Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat

Wedding superlative: Most likely to get drunk during his own wedding and say something extremely inappropriate

Thomas Sharpe from Crimson Peak

On his wedding day to you, Thomas Sharpe would have every detail in its perfect place. From the flowers to the organ playing the wedding march to the seating arrangement, every single thing would be immaculately arranged to your liking.

He would play the part of a doting groom very effectively, almost ignoring Lucille most of the time in favor of talking to your family members. He'd play with the little ones, laugh at your father's attempts at humor, and assure your mother that her child will lack nothing in their marriage

The moment you entered the chapel, a warm smile would spread across Thomas's face and his face would light up as if the in the world darkness was finally gone for good.

As if you were made of glass, he would carefully take your hand in his and lead you to the altar, kneeling before the priest. 

Then, Thomas would make his vows to be with you in sickness and in health, till death do you part, and kiss you slowly, savoring this moment of purity. 

After the ceremony, Thomas would lead you in a waltz - your first dance as husband and wife - with a pace so swift yet so delicate that it would not extinguish a candle

At a specific moment, when the guests are dining, Thomas would lightly tap on his glass with a fork to get everyone's attention. 

"On behalf of the Sharpe household, I would like to thank you all for attending this lovely occasion. I could not be more happier than to be marrying the lady seated right here," Thomas would gesture to you with a proud smile. "She is truly a blessing, and until death parts us, I promise to hold her close and to treasure her always. May our days together be filled with happiness and joy."

Wedding superlative: Most likely to have an eloquent wedding toast that makes everyone go "Awww"

James Conrad from Kong: Skull Island

On his wedding day to you, Captain James Conrad would be silent to almost everyone before the ceremony, pretending to be completely calm about his impending nuptials. But his dark circles and his red eyes wouldn't fool anyone; it would be pretty clear that he hadn't sleeping so well lately

Actually, after he'd finally left Skull Island and settled in the United Kingdom, James had been dealing with nightmares about Kong and other terrifying creatures he'd encountered. Eventually, Preston Packard and Mason Weaver coaxed him to start seeing a professional about his nightmares and traumatic flashbacks. 

That's how James Conrad gained the courage and the hope to start a relationship with you, the beautiful neighbor who lived a few doors from his flat. And now, nearly two years after your first date, he proposed, you and James moved in together, and you were getting married. 

James could not have been happier about your union, but the past week leading up to the wedding had been tough. 

The two of you thought it might be good to have a little separation before the ceremony, and James thought it would make the wedding sweeter, so you agreed to sleep over at a friend's place. 

James found himself deeply missing your touch (and your cuddles - shh, don't tell anyone I told you) and many of the nightmares from his past returned. So after talking to you on the telephone every night, he would hold one of your sweaters like a security blanket while trying to lull himself sleep

When he finally saw you coming to the altar in your wedding gown, it felt like he'd been underwater for hours and was finally coming up for fresh air. From now on, he would never have to sleep alone, or face anything all by himself. Whatever happens, if he ever has to return to Skull Island in his dreams or in real life, he would have you by his side.

He'd be grinning the whole time from ear to ear, just enjoying the moment with you, and would always have his arm around you. Whenever James wasn't trying to stifle a yawn, he would be holding you close and stealing kisses, much to the amusement of everyone else around him.

Possible First Dance song: "Can't Help Falling in Love with You" by Elvis Presley

Wedding superlative: Most likely to never let anyone else dance with his bride because he gets jealous

Jaguar Villain!Tom Hiddleston

On his wedding day to you, Thomas would be dressed to the nines and poised like a prince, wearing a sharp three-piece suit (with a pistol concealed in his jacket) and Dolce and Gabbana citrus cologne

To him, this wedding was not unlike any other important engagement. A place where deals could be made and broken, offers could be extended and retracted, and alliances could be tested

Therefore, only the best of decorations could be present. The cake and the champagne had to be of the utmost quality (no cheap, off-brand liquor allowed), and the floral arrangements needed to be elegant enough for royalty

It would also be an opportunity for Thomas to reward his those closest to him in his inner circle; by inviting them, wining and dining them with a gourmet meal, he could reward their loyalty while also keeping them near should they try anything suspicious. 

But none of that would apply to you. No, Thomas may be emotionless and calculating in matters of business, even at his own wedding, but you were not to take part in any of it. In fact, your innocence was one of the reasons why Thomas was so attracted to you. You gave him something worth living for, something that was worth defending and protecting. He could not afford to corrupt you with his dirty world of schemes and plots

During the wedding, Thomas would be your Prince Charming (like always), making sure that you were comfortable. 

He would hold your hand and tell you how beautiful you looked whenever you got nervous. If you were hungry, he'd make sure that a plate of food was brought to you. And if someone dared to make you uncomfortable on your special day? They had better prepared to have the living daylights pounded out of them.

Also, Thomas would never admit this to you until possibly years after your wedding to him, but he secretly bribed the person who showed you your wedding dresses to only show you designs that he approved of. He knew that you would look stunning in anything you wore, but he always liked to be the one in charge

Possible first dance song: "Fly Me to The Moon," by Frank Sinatra or "Stand By Me" by Ben E. King

Wedding superlative: Most likely to carry out a murder at their wedding 

Taglist: @thatdummy-girl @icytrickster17  @mischievoushiddleston,@lokischambermaid , @lady-rose-moon , @lokisgoodgirl , @lokisninerealms @jennyggggrrr ,, @tom-hiddleston-imagines , @lokiismineforever @smolvenger @winterfrostlovetriangle , @the-haven-of-fiction , @turniptitaness  @cakesandtom ,@sallymagnoliaposts @leahs-reading-nook @holdmytesseract @muddyorbsblr

[holdmytesseract]

Yay open requests! :)

Hmmm, I want to see you write a one-shot where the Reader is a travelling actor who comes to Aldwinter to perform for the town with her troupe, and Will Ransom of course becomes romantically fascinated by the reader while she's there. That's all, I'll let you determine how far it goes between them. ^_^

And if I may be selfish, maybe make the Reader a larger-sized redhead (like me) haha

Attraction

Will Ransome x fem!Reader

Summary: When a travelling actor comes to Aldwinter, Will is completely swept off his feet; hit by the arrow of love.

Warnings: mutual pining (sort of)? fluff, lil' bit of suggestive smut - blink and you'll miss it, not exactly a happy end - but there's hope! tell me if I missed something!

Word Count: 2,4k

a/n: Sorry this took me so long, friend! 🥺 I really hope you like this! It's been a while since I lastly wrote for Will, but I tried my best. 🧡

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @asgards-princess-of-mischief @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @captain-camille @lovingchoices14 @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @lokiforever @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @crimson25 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @dustychinchilla74 @coldnique @eleniblue @frzntrx @huntedmusicgardenn @mochie85

Masterlist

Will's eyes roamed the quite big crowd of people, as he stepped carefully down the few steps which led to the altar. On a Sunday mass like today, the little chapel Reverend Ransome called his own, was always bustling with people. Something which made the vicar very happy. He gave friendly, confident looks left and right, as he made his way down the aisle and stopped close to the door. It was a tradition for him to personally see off his churchgoer.

After all, they were his sheep - and he was the sheepherder.

Once almost everyone had bid their goodbyes and only a few people were left, Will suddenly recognised another familiar face within the small group of people... And he was the last one to stand up from the pew.

"Dear Sir Ambrose!" Reverend Ransome called out his old friend with a smile. "What takes you to Aldwinter on this rainy Sunday? I haven’t seen you around in months!" Charles laughed and grabbed the hand of his friend; shaking it thoroughly. "Well... I had to go to Essex anyway this weekend. Business trip," he said; winking. "Therefore, I decided to go to mass in Aldwinter and visit my friend!"

"Well, I am delighted to see you, Charles." "So am I."

The two men talked for a bit. About everything and anything, until... "Charles, I know you well... This business trip and the want to visit me can't be the only reason you're here..." Charles laughed up again; clapping his friend on the shoulder. "You indeed know me well, William. These are truly not the only reasons... Let us sit down."

Will let himself guide to a pew by Ambrose, before they sat down beside each other.

"I have something you might be interested in... It concerns the children in school, here in Aldwinter." Will nodded; pricking up his ears at the word 'children'. "I am all ears, Charles."

"Our children came home from school last week - entirely excited and happy, and when my dear wife asked what was going on, they told her about how they had been visited by a wonderful lady and her troupe. They said they told them stories - bible stories, but not only through words... They dressed up and did a play! Like in a theatre! Can you imagine, Will!"

The vicar's eyes went wide in fascination, wonder and excitement. "Charles, that... That is fascinating!" The man beside him nodded. "It truly is. I soke out the lady and her troupe, of course and she would be willing to make a stop in Aldwinter, too - next week! They're heading to Essex anyway. What do you say? I thought it would be great for the children here."

Will smiled and nodded. "Yes, please do so. That would be indeed wonderful." Charles smiled. "Great! I am going to contact the dear lady then and tell her to ask for revered Will Ransome when in Aldwinter.

Aldwinter was a sweet, cosy village. You had to admit that. Sure, it could be cold and rainy - like you heard, but summers here were wonderful.

The warm sun was shining on your face, as you walked together with your troupe towards the tavern Sir Ambrose told you to go and where you could stay during your time in Aldwinter. With curious eyes, you looked around. You had never been here before. You never were long at the same place, after all. As a travelling player, you were one day here and the next day miles away - but you wouldn't want it any other way. It was the life you chose and loved with all your heart.

After the kind woman described the way, you walked the short distance to the church; hoping that you took the right paths. You did. Seeing the elderly, but beautifully crafted building, you smiled and tuck a strand of loose red hair nervously out of your face and cautiously stepped through the wooden doors. There was no one to be seen.

Once you reached said tavern, you told your fellow companions to go and settle, while you would meet the contact person Ambrose arranged for you.

"Excuse me?" You approached the lady in a dress and apron, as she cleaned up some tables in said tavern. At your words, she looked up to face you. "Yes?" You gave her a gentle smile. "I'm looking for reverend Ransome... Do you know where I can find him?" "Sure, miss. You'll most likely find him in the church at this time of the day." "And how do I get to the church? Apologies, I've never been in Aldwinter before." "Oh that's not a problem, miss." The lady smiled and put her rag away; wiping her hands on her apron. "The church is not difficult to find..."

"Apologies, Miss. I was up the stairs; sorting some things. I didn't hear you right away."

"Hello?" You called out; walking down the aisle. "Mr. Ransome?"

Just when you were about to call out again, you heard some rustling coming from another room; probably the backroom and only mere seconds later there were steps. They grew louder and louder, until they revealed the man you had been searching for - or well, told to go to...

... and you had expected a lot, but certainly not that.

Reverend William Ransome sounded to you like you were going to be face to face with an elderly, friendly man with glasses; perhaps in his fifties. You were wrong... Oh so wrong...

You swallowed; were taken aback by the man's beauty. You had never seen a more stunning man than him - and you had seen a lot as an travelling actor...

In front of you stood a tall man in his late thirties, probably early forties. Longer, blonde-brown curls framed his face, which seemed to be carved out of marble. High cheekbones, a sharp jawline, stunning blue eyes and perfectly shaped lips and nose. The beard covering his cheeks, chin and upper lip suited him without a doubt.

Will wore brown cord trousers which were attached to brown braces. Underneath those, was a puffy white shirt covering his upper body - but not entirely. Two buttons were undone; displaying a little bit of his chest and the fine, dark hairs which grew there.

"You must be the famous Miss Y/L/N." Will smiled and stretched out his hand. "Will Ransome. I'm the vicar of this cosy, little town." Still a bit stunned you placed your hand in his. Will brought it up to his lips; bestowing a small kiss upon your knuckles. His lips were so soft and gentle, you almost melted on the spot. His beard tickled your skin; leaving a burning sensation behind - in the best way possible.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Reverend." You smiled; trying to not lose your composure. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N, indeed." The vicar smiled back at you; blue eyes sparkling. "The pleasure is mine."

Will offered you to sit inside his little office, so you could talk about the performance and when you and your fellow companions were ready to perform. You noticed that you got along very well with the man sitting opposite of you. Clearly, you were sharing a great chemistry. He was the sweetest, kindest and most polite man you ever met - and he seemed so enamoured with what you were doing for a living.

A date for the play was quickly settled... Tomorrow morning, as soon as the children finished school.

Will watched your every move; completely fascinated and enthralled. He hung on your every word.

Sure, he was watching all of the fantastic players; performing the story of Moses, but you... You were so special. Whenever you spoke, Will's eyes seemed to light up and he couldn't help the smile on his face.

The vicar didn't know what exactly it was that got him so hooked, but he couldn't deny it...

Was it your talent? Your passion? Your beautiful, kind and determined character? Was it your beauty itself? Perhaps all of it?

Will couldn't point it out.

"I-I wanted to-" Will had to clear his throat. "I wanted to ask, if you'd be interested in a little sightseeing tour through Aldwinter tomorrow?" He gave you a nervous smile. "That is very kind of you, Will, but... We actually don't stay longer than a few days at one place, so..." Will nodded. "I-I understand. But please... Just one more day. I'd like to give something in return for your wonderful work." You bit your lip; weighing your options, but then sighed.

After the show ended and all of the children had left with their parents and Will had bid them goodbye, he cautiously approached the woman he couldn't get off his mind again.

"Miss Y/N?"

His deep, yet smooth voice urged to your ears; causing you to smile as you packed your utensils together. "Yes, Mr. Ransome?" The vicar lifted a hand; "Please... Call me Will." smiling as well. "Will," you repeated - and caused Will's heart to speed up. Hearing you roll off his name from your tongue did something to the man of god.

"Alright. One more day."

The vicar smiled, "Thank you." and helped you to pack your troupes things together.

You watched him help Gabriel - one of your colleagues and couldn't help but smile. You've never met a kinder man in your life and you had to admit that you could not wait to spend the day with him tomorrow, but... Was it really a good idea?

While you spent the next day in Aldwinter, the others decided to go to Essex. Aldwinter was too boring for them - something you absolutely didn't agree with. Yes, the weather was moody and often not the best, but nevertheless was it a beautiful, cosy, little town. You liked it - and especially the vicar who lived there.

I could get used to this, you caught yourself thinking; immediately slapping yourself across the cheek - in your head.

You met Will rather late in the morning after breakfast. He had a few things to do - duties to follow as the people's reverend; therefore it was almost lunch time when he stood in front of your room at the tavern.

He showed you around - like promised. The beach. The sometimes quite scary and dangerous marshes. The beautiful forests and of course the town itself. Will introduced you to a few important people and in closing of the day, he invited you over to his little house for dinner.

You were completely amazed and excited about the fact that Will was an excellent cook. The Shepherd's Pie he cooked was delicious, and you dared to say like no other than you've eaten before.

His smile even widened.

Later that evening - it was already dark outside, you were seated beside him on his little sofa; a glass of wine in both his and your hands.

"Thank you for showing me your home, Will. Aldwinter is beautiful." You smiled and took a sip of your wine. The man reciprocated your smile; gave you a dazzling one of his own. "I'm delighted to hear that, Miss-" Y/N..." You interrupted him. "Call me Y/N."

"Y/N..." You nodded. "I really enjoyed it. The time we spent together." Perhaps was the alcohol you had consumed making you a little bold. "You are a very kind man, Will." He blushed, "Thank you, I... I am flattered." and inched closer to you. "And you are the most beautiful and talented woman I have ever met."

You blinked; were almost blushing, too. "Mr. Ransome are you... Are you trying to woo me?" A small, kind of nervous chuckle left the vicar's lips. "Perhaps."

You shook your head; drinking from the wine again. "But we hardly know each other..." "I-I know, but..." He swallowed. "You fascinate me, Y/N. You attracted my attention like no woman did before, I... I feel as if an invisible rope is pulling me to you. A higher power, which keeps on shoving me into your direction. I-I just... I can't help it. I feel myself utterly attracted to you."

Once again you started to shake your head, "Will... Stop it, please..." and sighed. "We can't give into this. I'm going to leave tomorrow and we'll probably never see each other again."

"Please..." The man beside you begged then; seeing how you struggled. Will wasn't a man who took advantage of this situation, but he felt how torn you were. How you actually wanted this and was just held back by the 'What if...'.

"We?" It was everything the vicar was focused on. "We can't give into this?"

You realised the mistake you made way too late.

"Does that mean you feel the same?" Will's heart sped up after those words left his lips. Words filled with hope.

"I-I-I..." You didn't know what to say. It was true, but you forbid your body to feel it; knowing exactly that it would only lead to pain.

He inched even closer, until your thigh almost touched his.

"Just one kiss..." The reverend whispered and before you could do or say something, your lips melted against his. Will sighed in the kiss; hands landing on your waist.

"Tell me to stop and I will." He said in a gentle voice, while he pulled you onto his lap.

You let it happen.

Just one kiss turned into two - and two turned into way much more, until-

Will closed his eyes for a moment. It wasn't a nightmare... Far from it...

Will ripped his eyes open, only to find himself breathing quick and heavy. Sweat pooled on his chest; coating the fine hairs growing there. His puffy night shirt was totally dishevelled - just like his hair.

The vicar sat up in bed. As he moved, he felt the tightness of his underwear and the straining arousal inside.

He had dreamed of her again. Y/N. The beautiful woman with flaming red hair and stunning Y/E/C. The woman who had fascinated him like no other, when she visited Aldwinter a few months back to perform a play with her troupe. The woman which whom he had spent a wonderful night with - and who had left him to live her dream and travel around the world as a player; leaving only a letter and her shawl behind.

Will smiled; remembering the words written on the piece of paper.

One day, l promise I'll come back to you - if you are willing to wait for me.

[muddyorbsblr]

forgive me, father

See the full 14 Days Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: You've been having lewd dreams about the vicar in your small town for months now, and you march down to the church to confess your lust.

Pairing: Will Ransome x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k words

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors and pearl clutchers, if you know what's good for you, exit now); fingering; p in v; 1 cuss word; semi-public sex; dreams about some improper use of the altar; actual improper use of a confessional [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: in case you haven't watched Essex Serpent yet, he's a priest

There was one thing of which you were absolutely certain: When your time on this Earth is over, you would burn in the flesh-melting pits of Hell itself. You were no better than the leches that lurked outside of the tavern who lusted after the maidens who'd barely even begun to bleed.

Dare you say it, you may even be worse. Lusting after one that had already avowed himself to God. What type of lustful, wretched, depraved nymphomaniac would you be if you couldn't quell your desire for him? 

For Reverend William Ransome, the towering and devastatingly handsome priest of the small town that you resided in. 

Ever since you'd moved in to Aldwinter, the residents looked at you as if you had a strange mutation that only they could see. You were alien to them, with your vibrant, form-fitting dresses and your polished accent from what education you'd been allowed to receive in the city, there were nearly no souls for you to converse with for they didn't wish to acquaint themselves with someone so unknown to them.

And so landed the first nail in your metaphorical coffin, for the only soul in the quaint little town of Aldwinter willing to give you the time of day, the one who spoke with an education that matched--surpassed, even--your own, was none other than the Reverend himself. 

Even on that first encounter you felt that traitorous desire pooling between your legs. Why did he have to sound like thaton top of looking as if despite having sworn himself to the cloth it seemed as if he was sculpted for temptation by the devil himself? 

Now here you were, once again staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom, unable to return to sleep after having another sinfully filthy dream about that frustratingly perfect unattainable man. If there was truth in the messages that the Scripture delivered, and God truly could see into your thoughts and dreams, then surely He had His palm to His face at the lecherous images that were conjured in your mind over one of His representatives on this plane of existence.

Laid out bare and supine on the altar staring up at the ceiling of wood faintly tinted by the light coming through the stained glass window, as the dear Reverend hooked your legs around him, the only sounds to pierce the silence of the church being that of your hips snapping together and the obscene squelching sounds of him entering you repeatedly at an unforgiving pace. 

But what had you violently waking up to find yourself face down on your bed with your legs spread and grinding your hips into the mattress were the final moments  of that deliciously sinful dream. Where Will had begun to roll his hips into yours in a decadent pace, pressing his lips to your neck and chest in tender kisses. Whispering tender promises into your skin about how he'd longed to finally make you his. How he was convinced that the heavens made you just for him. "And all of Aldwinter will know that for a fact when they see you carrying my child." 

You threw your arm over your eyes and let out a frustrated groan so loud you were sure you woke your neighbors. "This has gone on too long. These thoughts will either be exorcised or they will be buried. I refuse to be this heathen foolishly lusting after the vicar a moment longer. This ends tonight." 

That was how you ended up marching into the church, donning only a dressing robe thrown over your nightgown and your boots to shield your feet from the mud of the marshes, determined to confess and finally let all your lecherous thoughts out in the open. You were sure that that grump Matthew would be too groggy from being awoken at this ungodly hour that he would barely remember anything you'd tell him, and so these words would truly only be between you and God.

You hadn't gone to confession in a considerable time, let alone at such an hour that one did not know whether to call it 'late in the night' or 'early in the morning', but you could recall some slivers of information about how to proceed. You walked to the door of the sacristy, knocked three times, and then proceeded to the confessional, trying to recall what the next step was. 

There was a ledge near the latticed covered window that would allow the priest to speak with you from the other side, and there was also a kneeler by the entryway. Considering that you needed to pay penance for the debased thoughts in your rampant imagination, you figured that kneeling would be more appropriate, so you closed the curtain in front of you and set your knees on the leather-covered bench, waiting for a cue.

The sound of the curtain on the other side being drawn with more force than necessary made you jump. Sorry I had to wake you from your dreamscape litany, Matthew. You waited a few moments for the curate to situate himself on the ledge on his side and draw back the divider before you spoke. 

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," you wavered, a large part of you ashamed for the words you were about to utter. "It had been…heavens, I haven't the faintest idea when I last confessed. I dare reckon it's been over a decade since my last confession," you admitted with a chuckle, hoping to inject some light into the thick guilt-ridden tension. 

All you received in response was a low grumble, making you roll your eyes at the curate's ornery demeanor. You took that sound as a cue for you to start stating your sins.

"I have been plagued with guilt over the last few months with the aftermath of the sins that I have committed in the privacy of my own home." You took a deep breath, the weight on your heart growing heavier with each passing moment. "I have been having licentious thoughts about a man I shouldn't desire. Wherever I turn, regardless of my efforts, he is there. Tempting me. Taunting me. Even when I close my eyes, when I dream, I dream of him. There's no escape.

"When he speaks of even the most mundane, or the most modest of subjects, all I can think of is how his voice sounds like a luxurious mix of fine silk and crushed velvet. And how that voice could get me to do the most unholy things, he need only ask. I think about how it would feel to lay with him, and what sinful words could be uttered from those deceptively angelic lips of his. I think about how those lips would feel on mine, or how they would feel pressing kisses down my body. 

"I think of his hands and how they look as if they were engineered for sin. With long, dexterous fingers that I'm sure would be devastating if they were inside me. I think about what his manhood would look like and how I'm sure thatwould utterly decimate me." You could hear the heavy breathing from the other side of the divider, smirking to yourself as you realized that your words had gotten to the ill-tempered judgmental man on the other side.

"I must atone for my sins," you finished. "So I've come here to confess them. And hopefully in doing so I would be better equipped with the defenses to never think as such again." 

You were only met with silence. 

"I don't know how to conclude this. Are you supposed to give me a set of prayers or--?"

"Kneel," was the only terse reply. As if you were being whipped with the word itself.

"I am kneeling," you whispered shakily, fearing now that the next move would be to drag you through the walkways of Aldwinter and be labeled the whore you felt you were. 

"Then stay on your knees, Y/N." 

It was as if ice cold water had been poured down the length of your spine, the harsh realization like a slap across your face. That voice. The voice that haunted your dreams and your waking thoughts. The voice that belonged to the man you'd just described in lurid detail that you wanted to do unspeakable things to you. 

You'd just confessed your fantasies about Will Ransome. To Will Ransome. 

Now would be a good time for the ground to open up a gateway to Hell itself and swallow me whole, you thought snidely.

You flinched at the sound of the curtain on his side being drawn, the motion even sharper than it had been minutes ago, as if he intended for the curtain to seem like it was slicing through the silence. Slicing into your soul and displaying your shameful lust for all to see. 

Perhaps if you waited long enough for him to return to the sacristy then you could quietly slip out of the church, and never return for another service again. Save up your money until you could leave Aldwinter altogether and put this humiliating lustful blunder behind you. Where he would only remain a prurient fantasy, and he had no power to turn into anything more damning for you. 

You'd been counting the seconds away, every inch of you trembling with your mortification, when the curtain in front of you was pulled back from the other side, making you flinch even harder. Your head snapped up and your doe-eyed gaze met the steel blue of Will's as he looked down at your face. His tall frame seemed even more imposing from this angle, filling you with a traitorous mix of apprehension and desire. 

That desire only intensified as your heart hammered in your chest when he began to sink to his knees as well, his face becoming almost level with yours as his hand moved to cup the side of your face, his thumb resting on your bottom lip and coaxing it into a pout. He breathed out your name, in a similar tone that he would use in service, in prayer. The tenderness in his tone took you aback, keeping you frozen in place despite every fibre of your being screaming at you to stand, to apologize, to run and never look back.

"Dear lovely Y/N," he murmured, leaning in so close that his breath was ruffling the hairs at the crown of your head. Just the smallest nudge closer and his lips would be ghosting across your skin. "Finish your confession, sweet girl." 

You fought the urge to fall against him as you felt him press the lightest of kisses to your temple. Finish? No, surely he didn't mean for you to utter the name. You couldn't. You wouldn't. "It is finished," you said in your attempt to evade him, your voice so inaudible it was barely a whisper that had got caught in the back of your throat.

The faintest whimper escaped your lips as he pressed a kiss to the side of your face, so close to your ear. "It is not finished until you utter the name of the one who makes you sin the way you do. The one who has so thoroughly penetrated your thoughts that you became compelled to come here and confess them to me on your knees."

This bloody devilish tempter. "I can't," you gasped as his hand moved to cup the back of your neck, his fingers beginning to weave through your hair. "The admission would destroy me." 

"It won't." His closeness had led you to feel his words as much as hear them, the low timbre of his soft spoken answer rippling throughout the entirety of your body, adding fuel to the fire he had started within you long before you stepped foot into the church. Made worse by him bringing his free hand to your waist and curling his fingers around the curve of your body, thumb gently stroking the side of your stomach. "I can promise you that it won't, dear Y/N. I would never condemn you over something so natural. So human. But I do wish to know the name of the man who brought one of the most brilliant people I know to her knees." His lips ghosted across your cheek. "Name, sweet girl."

Perhaps if I say it he would back away in disgust and I can leave.  It was a desperate attempt, and it would hammer in the final nail in your coffin, but it was all you had now. What have I left to lose?

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself to start running; the only drawback to this was that as your body tensed, his hold on you tightened. With a resigned sigh, you breathed the name. "Will Ransome."

His hold on you tightened by the slightest as he leaned back to look at you, his face devoid of the disgust and abhorrence you expected to find. Instead you couldn't rationalize what you were seeing as his eyes shone as if the stars themselves had taken up residence in them, his brows knitted together, and the beginnings of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You tried to make a motion to pull away but he didn't budge, his hands still firmly keeping you in place as his thumbs began to stroke your skin once again. 

You held your breath as he leaned in, bringing his face so close to yours that you could feel his warm breath on your lips. And then it was as if your world had stopped when you felt him press a light, imperceptible kiss to your upper lip, followed by one to your bottom lip. It was on the third time his lips had grazed yours that you returned the kiss, eliciting a low groan from him and making him wrap his arm around you to press your body against his, the contact making you both moan into each other's mouths. 

Will held you tight as he led you both to stand, lifting you off your feet once he was standing upright and walking you into the confessional until your back was pressed against the wooden wall and he sat you down on the ledge. He reached back to haphazardly draw the curtain and cover the compartment before stepping between your legs, grabbing hold of the fabric of your nightgown and slowly hiking up the fabric to bare your legs to him. "All this time," he breathed, lifting his gaze to meet yours, the intensity in his eyes pinning you in place. "You could have been mine all this time."

You were still dreaming. You must be. There wasn't even the most remote of possibilities that those very same sinful hands that you'd fantasized about for months were currently working their way up your thighs, caressing your skin with a reverence as if he himself couldn't believe this was his reality, too. Only it wasn't reality. This was your mind playing the cruelest trick on you, giving you a fantasy so realistic you could swear on your life that it was real. 

Wasn't it?

Only the sounds of your whimpers getting caught in the back of your throat pierced the silence of the booth, the heavy curtain all but blocking out the rest of the world to you as one of his hands made its way between your legs, inching higher and higher as he pressed his lips to the crook of your neck. "We're finished wasting time, my dear," he murmured into your neck, your sharp gasp shattering the deafening silence as you felt his fingers meet the slick evidence of your arousal.

You were torn between telling him he shouldn't do this, that it wasn't proper for him to do so, and begging him to keep going. To give in to your torturous desires since he seemed to be doing the same. You rested your forehead on his shoulder, biting the inside of your lips so hard they may very well have drawn blood to hold back the sounds that threatened to escape you once his fingers moved up and began to slowly rub circles over your clit.

"Don't silence yourself, sweetheart." You struggled to keep yourself muted as another moan tried to slip from your mouth as he pressed more fevered kisses to your neck, your vision blurring every time you felt his tongue dart out to lick at your skin. "Let me hear you." 

Just as you opened your mouth to set loose a moan that would have woken your neighbors had you been in your home, your blissful dream-like state was shattered by an ornery voice. "Father Ransome?" 

You clapped a hand over your mouth, fighting your body's urge to take heaving breaths, your stubborn denial causing your lungs to burn and your heart to beat even faster as your body begged for more. Whether it be more of the air or more of Will you couldn't tell anymore. Perhaps more of both.

The heavy-footed steps of the curate began to echo through the church, the sound of each step coming closer to where you were making the panic sink deeper into your soul. Truly you didn't fear what discovery of you would do; had it just been you getting caught doing something salacious in the booth to be shamed 'til Kingdom Come by the irrational curate, you'd have had no issues facing him and talking him down with your back straight and head held high. 

But this wasn't just you. Getting caught in this moment had graver consequences because it would implicate Will as a lech. His reputation in this naive, superstitious town would be wrecked. Because of you. For that and that alone, you endured the burning in your lungs as it begged for more air, as it begged you to take the heaving breaths. 

It didn't help in the least that it was at this moment that Will decided to test the strength of your resolve, continuing to press his lips along the column of your neck as his fingers resumed to rub slowly over the overly sensitive nub above your entrance. Now your breaths were slow and shuddering through your nose, the entirety of your body shaking with a mixture of the fear of getting caught and the wicked, sinful pleasure that the man before you was subjecting you to. "Perhaps you should stay quiet a little while longer, my dear girl," he whispered in your ear, his lips ghosting along the shell of it before he pressed a kiss to the skin behind it, letting out a low groan that you prayed wasn't heard outside. 

Your free arm hooked around his side, your hand clawing at his back the moment his fingers traveled down and entered you. Your throat burned with the silenced whimpers and moans that wished to not be kept in, all made worse when his free hand weaved through the hair at the base of your skull, tilting your head backward and exposing your throat for him to press fevered kisses to. 

"If you knew how I longed for you, Y/N," he groaned into your skin, the vibrations from his voice traveling all over your body and intensifying the pleasure already washing over you. "How I would lay in bed at night, sit alone in my study, or tonight in the sacristy. And I would touch myself to the thought of laying with you. Having you laid bare underneath me as I worshipped you." He pulled your hand away from your face and slanted his mouth over yours in a heated kiss, the whimpers finding their way out as his tongue slipped past your lips and tangled with your own just as his fingers curled upward and brushed against a spot inside of you that blurred your vision and had your hips involuntarily jerking against his touch, wantonly begging for more. 

The sound of heavy footsteps right outside the confessional, however, had you freezing against his touch. He broke the kiss gently, careful not to make any sounds as his lips pulled away from yours. You pleaded silently with your eyes for him not to move, to alleviate the burning in you even in the slightest, at least until one of the most notorious gossips in the town had wrongfully concluded that there was no one in the church.

His only answer was a devious glint in his eyes as he torturously continued the long, sensuous strokes of his finger against that spot inside of you, making you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you fought to keep your breathing even. 

"You haunted my waking thoughts and my dreams as well, sweet girl," he whispered as he pressed a tender kiss to the side of your head. "And now I get to make you mine." 

The footsteps fell right by the curtain that shielded you both from the rest of the world. That heavy fabric now feeling as if it were the flimsiest cover, that anyone could see right through it if they looked hard enough. Perhaps if they squinted their eyes they would undoubtedly see the town's aberration of a woman corrupting their dear vicar. 

"I coulda sworn that wench from London walked in here," the grumpy voice mumbled right outside the confessional, his heavy footsteps heading toward the direction of the sacristy now followed by the sounds of heavy knocking. "Are you alright in there, Father Ransome?! I hope that wretched woman didn't dare try to charm you with her wiles." 

"Too late," Will murmured against your ear with a low chuckle that had you beside yourself. "I'm afraid you ensnared me since the moment I laid eyes on you." You lifted your head from his shoulder to look at him, the honesty in his words placing an expression on his face so tender you swore to yourself you didn't deserve to see it, let alone be the reason for it. "I'm yours." 

You both stared at each other, a smirk tugging at the side of his mouth at every silent gasp that formed in your mouth as he kept on stroking that spot inside of you, bringing you closer and closer to climax. As the steps began to sound farther and farther away, he began to move faster, the smirk morphing into a devious grin as fragments of a whimper began to escape you.

And then the sound of the door closing as the ornery town gossip finally left the church echoed through the now empty sanctuary. "You're completely mad," you whined as his fingers moved faster inside you, an obscene moan breaking through the silence as you felt his thumb make contact with your clit once more.

"For you, sweetheart, I completely am." He pressed his lips to yours, moaning into your mouth as your hand traveled downward to palm him through his trousers. "Temptress," he hissed, nipping at your bottom lip. "Now come for me." 

You threw your head back against the wooden wall at his command, your walls fluttering and clenching around his fingers as he eased you through your release. 

"Beautiful," he breathed, pressing a kiss to the exposed skin of your chest, close to your heart. The sound of the laces on his trousers being undone already had you ready for what ever else he may have in store for you. "I'm going to need you to come in for a different type of confession, sweetheart." Another moan escaped your lips -- the sound so sharp and loud you could nearly feel it reverberating in the wooden ledge that you were holding on to for dear life -- as you felt the tip of his manhood brushing along your folds. 

You shuddered as you breathed out his name, his lips still pressing kisses all over your collarbone, careful not to leave a mark on your skin. "What confession--Oh f-fuck!" Your head hit the wall as you began to feel him inching his way inside you, a delicious burn beginning as your walls stretched for him to fit.

"I'll need for us to do them somewhere more private. And more often. Just to be thorough." His lips found yours once again as he thrusted the slightest bit to fully sheathe himself inside you, your hips flush against each other, his kiss muffling the shriek that you let out from the salacious intrusion. "Perhaps nightly. In my home. Where no one can hear us confessing our lust for miles." 

A/N: And it's officially begun! Welcome to 14 Days of Valentines. Every day from now until Valentine's Day I will be posting a smut/smutty story involving either Tom or one of Tom's characters. I hope y'all like what I've come up with, and also I hope you check out all the amazing works in the collection not just by myself (those aren't amazing lol) but by fellow writers in the community.

Everything taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @devilsadvocactus @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @creationsbyme @coldnique @athalialaufeyson @simplyholl @tallseaweed @sarahscribbles @loopsisloops

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Eighteen (Loki x fem! Reader Hiddlesverse Crossover Series)

Series Summary: Based on Sarah J Mass's A Court of Thorns and Roses series with the Tom Hiddleston characters. You are a woman of 1880's in Aldwinter in Essex, England, dying of tuberculosis. Never to be married to the local Lusty Vicar. When Loki appears to you and offers to heal you...if you spend a week of every month with him

Chapter Summary: Longing to return to your husband and friends, you take the next steps for revenge, both big and small. Your powers perform a miracle for the town to get you into their good graces. Then, an unexpected invitation arrives.

Word Count: 4K (for me, that's short. Don't wanna write super long chapter bc I fear people hate it)

Chapter Warnings: No smut, but mentions of sex and masturbation with references to and deconstructing the canon events The Essex Serpent the book, and the show, including not portraying Cora or Will or their affair sympathetically so if you don't like that don't read this, discussions of cheating and a brief mention of the fear of sexual violence. Loki gets jealous for a hot second. Some angst, but some humor. Supporting Women's Wrongs. Reader causing problems on purpose. Portrayals of religion. My saltiness slips out into roasts.

Series Masterlist

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

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

The first letter had its destination. You got out a piece of paper, writing down the address of the seminary that appointed him the vicarage of Aldwinter. Then you began writing.

“Dear sirs,

I have some unfortunate news. I suspect the Reverend William Ransome is not of moral character fitting his position here. He is engaged to marry…”

You hesitated. Thinking carefully, if you signed it with your name, Will would know it was you. No, you couldn’t risk that. You continued writing. 

“... a Miss Y/L/N.  However, an intact love letter from a woman named Mrs.Seaborne was discovered in his possession. It is dated during his still current engagement to Ms. Y/L/N. It is enclosed here. There must be an inspection in his vicarage to see if he encouraged Mrs. Seaborne and if there were other incidents. If found that he behaved in a manner not befitting godly character, it is doubtful he can have the right to sacred orders and to function as a public figure of the church at least in Aldwinter.”

Sincerely, 

An anonymous member of the congregation.”

Stuffing both this paper and the first letter in an envelope, you then sealed with wax. Then wrote down the address of the council. 

You hurried to the post office, paid postage, and quickly mailed it out before anyone could see. Too many talking mouths.

You heard Loki congratulate you.

‘I couldn’t have done better, my dear. You’ve learned from the best. You’re a wife to the god of mischief indeed.’ 

Once you got home, though you skimmed over the book of Matthew beside the fire, you weren’t focused on the scripture. You would have to figure out where to send the other two letters. One would have to get to someone in town, anyone who attended church would do. You’d figure out the how later.

But the third one would require research… Mrs. Seaborne’s ambition in life was to become recognized as a woman of science. 

Too bad sleeping with another’s fiancee typically results in a woman’s utter ruin. 

And now you had the evidence in hand. You had to figure out where to send it to. Which department of science? Who received her research? What if she wasn’t sending it at all, what then? Would she gather up her fossils as Stella loved to gather up seashells?

Your thoughts then returned to Stella… your friend who shared a fate with you. 

Had you not been there…it would have been her. She would have married Will and fell in love with him. Been the dutiful, obedient wife who carried the Word in her mouth and his children in her womb. Stella, stricken with consumption, about to die…and for William to repay her devotion and life with him with inconstancy. Doomed to do nothing about her husband’s obsessive lust for another woman and in fact, smile at it. 

His happiness was what mattered. His happiness. Not hers. 

And she would have borne it without even speaking a complaint. She’d be their matchmaker like a dutiful little wife all while she never let her heart sway to another man, much less bring him to the marriage bed that her upright, moral, virtuous, godly husband had the freedom to. The marriage bed Will would have set on fire and destroyed into bits all while she smiled and laid in it and let him burn her into ashes.  

She’d want them to be together. Content and not the least bit unhappy that she never mattered to Will in the first place. She’d even attempt suicide- end her own life- so they could be together!

The perfect wife to a man who couldn’t be decent. 

…what would she get out of it? 

At the end of the day, who was kissing their lover, and who was the one about to drown?

And even for her selfless and complete and utter devotion to Will…it wouldn’t be the same from him. He wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice or control himself for Stella…not one bit. He was a man who did not deserve her. Did not deserve the great, selfless love she had for everyone in her life…even you.

You were the same not long ago. The self-sacrificial, dutiful, passive wife who wanted nothing but his happiness. That was why you agreed to that bargain on that fateful day.

You had to avenge Stella. Even if now it wouldn’t happen, you had to. For you and she were one half of one whole fate. And in this one, the abandoned woman would not passively sit until she killed herself for such selfish monsters. 

 If Stella were the one destined to not fight….you would.  For her sake as well as yours. 

You paused, remembering how frightened she was in Grendel’s cave the last you saw her.

‘How is Stella?”’ you asked Loki. You knew you asked him a hundred times before. And he would tell you.

‘She was having nightmares keeping her awake. Flinching, bursting into tears and fits of great fear of anything involving Grendel…but she is getting better.’

“When will she be home? Her family keeps asking after her…they mourn her as if she died. I cannot stay long with them without weeping. It destroys me every time”

“She was in her house when Grendel took her…she doesn’t feel safe there now.  So she wants to stay here...”

“Without it being safe for Thomas to deliver letters…They think she’s your whore for good now.”

“If I forced Stella to be my whore, I think my wife would have something to say about it. Not to mention Jonathan.”

“Oh, he’d say something. His fists can make a whole sentence itself.”

His warm laughter made you smile over the large, thick book in your lap.

“Oh, Loki, bless him-I knew from when he gave her those flowers. But I don’t think he’ll admit he is besotted with her already,” you added on.

“Jonathan is not a man who will easily admit anything, why else did he become a spy?”

In the night, you couldn’t sleep. Your mind was still racing, refusing to shut off. You went to the window in your room, sitting on a chair to stare out. You looked outside at the country darkness outside. For only the stars and moon above showed any light on the little town.

Out of curiosity, your senses reached out. You sensed Will was not asleep at all and not in his house. He was in the field alone of all places! And standing before a bonfire. Then you could sense he was speaking…

“Oh Lord, I renounce my sins…”

Atoning and cleansing his sins? Looks like he was going to need a lot more firewood then.

You stopped your powers. But you went back to here and looked up at the starry sky. You missed them- all of them. Sif’s little glares when something annoyed her. Stella trying on the Asgardian dresses. Robert making quips as he lit a cigarette. Thomas happily chatting over whatever device he was working on Jonathan observing everything stoically, but when someone spoke gently to him, a beautiful smile on his face. Hal’s bright eyes as he taught everyone how to fight with a sword during training. Thor’s loud laughter. Queen Frigga coming in to ask over all of you, for it was her role as an AllMother to be Mother to all.

And Loki- dear, funny, charming, mischievous Loki, your True Love, your husband…you missed him most of all.

You had to be patient. It would only motivate you further. Once this was all done and you figured it out, you would return to see all of them without a minute’s delay. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The hairy dog that kept humping things was approaching your front yard. 

His pet was with him.

“Ah, dear Reverend, will you stop by for tea?” your mother hurried off from your gardening together to greet Will. 

“Yes, you are welcome,” you repeated, though your voice felt small.

He was in his overcoat and his formal green vest. The spaniel barked at his feet, tail wagging but held close thanks to the leash. You smiled and leaned down to pet him, for had you become married to the Lusty Vicar, the dog would be the most loyal man in your life. 

“I only have time to stop and say my hellos- especially for the lady here, please,” Will greeted, his eyes shining at you. 

You returned up. You fluttered your eyes down in a picture of docility and chastity.

“It’s nice to see you too,” you greeted sweetly. 

He then did something you were surprised he did in your mother’s presence. With his free hand, he found the ends of your skirt and gently tugged you a little closer to him. He smiled up at you.

“Why, how are you, my dear?” he asked.

“Doing alright,” you answered.

“I hear your headaches have been better, are you getting rest?”

“Yes, plenty as I can, Will,” you answered.

“That’s good, my darling,” he replied. 

You heard Loki cut in.

“That’s MY word for you!”

“Hush!” you sent back

“I just sent a telegram to Bishop Anderson. He has been promised there will be no disruptions and he will marry us next month,” he announced, his voice soft and almost on the edge of seduction. Completely unaware of the letter you sent to the council and the disaster about to hit him in at least a few weeks. 

Loki cut in again- “You do know that every Thursday he goes to the ocean and relieves his seed in it to thoughts of Cora!”

“I’m not surprised- hush!” you silently urged your husband again.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” you replied, smiling at him. 

“Are you going to be at the dance tonight, Y/N?”

The thought of being in there and having to endure potentially being in the same room as Mr. I-Can’t-Think-Straight-Around-Her and Cora and not screaming at both of them made you feel nauseous.

But he didn’t need to know that now.

“Oh, of course, I shall!” you replied. 

“Ah, then I hope to dance with my wife then,” he prodded.

“We are not yet married,” you reminded him meekly, folding your hands and looking demurely down.

“Yet you are mine already in my heart. For nothing shall stop me from joining you in Holy Matrimony and for us together to spend a life doing God’s will. I shall escort you there tonight, Y/N,” he promised.

He wasn’t wrong about the first bit, as Grendel told you.

He took your hand and kissed it. You grinned up at him with a loving look on your face. 

Yes, Y/N, smile. Be polite. Charming even. And never let him know you want him dead.

Then, urging his dog forward with his leash, he went about his way through the brown and white town. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That night was the promised dance. You kept your word and went with him. 

So many others would gather- that dance hall with candlelight that made the brown walls orange. Some people dressed in dark colors, but young people eager to flirt and laugh. Tables full of punch, cake, and fruit. A piano constantly playing. 

And Will in a tuxedo like the other men, ever the picture of handsomeness. You had three dances with him. The number permitted for an engaged couple. As tempting as it was to grab the neck of his bow tie and strangle him with it was there, you fought it back. 

No, you looked up at him and smiled. Curtsied at the end of dances as people clapped around you. 

Of course, Cora was there in her grey dress. But when she arrived, you put on a smile and curtsied and greeted her like any other person. Not talking to her more than you had to. You kept your eyes down for the rest of the party- sensing her like you were in the ocean and felt the presence of a shark. You knew Will would still stare at her intensely in your own presence. You would pretend like you didn’t know, and keep your eyes down again like a docile lady with no thoughts but love and marriage.

Maybe he had you both in boxes. For surely he thought you didn’t consent to be in Loki’s bed and that was why he pitied you as opposed to hated you. There was also the loophole- you were still considered chaste even though you weren’t. Since you didn’t want to bed Loki but were forced to.

 You were his Virgin. Cora was his Whore. 

He wanted to marry you because you fit being the chaste wife who sipped tea and quoted Philippians. And he could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted with Cora. One for his house and the other for his hand. Cora couldn’t be that wife for the vicarage. And you couldn’t be the one who could spit out some stupid science fact to make his penis erect. 

He wanted both. To have his cake and eat it too, like what Robert would say.

But as the party progressed…it occurred to you that you might be a little wrong at least on your part. Will’s touch on you was still proper- an arm to drape yours over. But only slightly more amorous, sometimes a hand to touch your back. Sometimes a brief, chaste kiss. Becoming slightly more amorous. 

It then hit you…Did Will…lust after you?  It wasn’t just chaste affection or passion he felt for you-  but did it include the Lusty Vicar’s Lusty Penis? 

You stopped for a moment and mused on it. Will left you to talk to some friends, promising he’d be back.

Honestly, It flattered you to be desired. And you had to have the shield up to not hear Loki’s complaints of jealousy right now.

You knew Will wouldn’t urge you to his bed before marriage. At the most extreme, not publicly. 

But…what if…what if that passion was still there? With the wedding re-planning, you knew it would happen soon. If you let time slip, you will find yourself a bigamist! You knew the Lusty Vicar would live up to his nickname and want to fuck you right after you said your I do’s! 

At the most extreme, if that happened…you could say no. Will had done some disgusting and reprehensible things…but you couldn’t imagine him forcing himself on you.

Perhaps you could tell him “no” on your wedding night. Tell him you were still distressed from being the Trickster God’s whore. Tell him you weren’t ready to consummate your (second) marriage. Will would very likely comply.  Maybe even tell him to sleep on the couch alone. Now- there was a funny picture! You- safe and snug in that blue bed and asleep. And the tall, hairy man curled up on his couch as much as his height would allow him. The cold air deflating the Lusty Vicar’s Lusty Penis like a balloon after a party.

But…how long would that last? He’d respect you but suspect something was up. Then, how could you discreetly get revenge on him after you wedded him? 

You had to cool him. 

But looking up, you saw with silent horror that he was staring at Cora again. There was a piano playing-a dance theme like you heard in your old dream. A song urging them to dance. Rage burned in the bottom of your stomach.

He needed not only cooling but the equivalent of a swift kick to the groin- and you had an idea of how to do both at once.

Looking over, you noted the tablecloth of the refreshment table was a dark green. Your True Love’s favorite dark green. 

Perfect.

You went up to the refreshment table for punch, taking a little cup and going to the glass bowl. A few guests talked nearby- a couple of gentlemen including a young surgeon the town had.  Dark hair and a round face, an apparent friend of the woman who ruined your life, and an expert in new ways of his profession. Chatting about amputation or other polite topics.

You then looked down and pretended to see the deep green cloth.

You dropped the glass in your hand it shattered on the ground. You let out a scream seeing the tablecloth. Conjuring tears and shaking, but careful not to step on the glass shards.

The party stopped, even the stupid piano trinkle music, to look at you.

You put a hand over your mouth and burst into tears. With the anger, the sadness, and the grief you had inside, it wasn’t hard.

“Why…what is the matter?” one woman in a dark dress asked.

“It’s Loki…like Loki’s-green like his-his-” you muttered out.

You then turned to the first man in that little group of men next to the table. Before Will could interfere, you flung yourself  at the surgeon. Wrapped your arms around him in a shaking embrace. You recalled his name- what was it again? Oh, yes!

“Lucas! Oh, Lucas! Help me! The trickster god!” you cried.

You held him tight and sobbed into the white shirt of his suit.

“What, uh, is the matter, Miss?” he asked, unsure of what on earth was going on.

“It’s green! The very green like his bed was! The trickster god is going to get me! He’s going to force me to bed him again! Oh, Lucas- please! Protect me! Say you’ll protect me! Anyone, please!” you wailed.

There were a few whispers of pity from the crowd. Lucas was stiff and uncomfortable of being labeled as your protector.

“There there, Miss Y/L/N. Sure I-we will keep you, uh. safe. it’s alright, you’re safe, no need to make a fuss, shhh,” he patted awkwardly, rocking you back and forth as you clung to him.

You peeked out and saw Will look absolutely white and silently angry seeing you embracing the surgeon. 

A taste of his own medicine.

You heard Loki’s voice.

‘Hal’s dying of laughter right now over this. Jonathan is cracking a smile despite himself. Stella is telling them all it is not funny and excusing herself to go to a corner and giggle.’ he said.

Lucas took note of Will and you heard a little panic in the surgeon’s voice.

“I, uh, think you should- should get home and- er, drink some tea and get some rest,” Lucas advised, desperately peeling you off of him before you went to Will. Pure terror on the surgeon's round face noticing the awkward situation he was in.

“I will escort my fiancee back home,” he said coldly, glaring at Lucas. 

You were escorted sternly by Will, you pretended not to notice the jealous little huff in his voice when he said goodnight at your door. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The second Sunday was the right Sunday to do the next part of your plan- for it was bright and sunny.

You were already early there to help teach Sunday School as promised. You made sure to talk in a sweet voice as you handed out the little snacks for the children forced into stiff, fancy clothes. The older teacher fussed at them to remain still. You practiced looking at a window when they turned to her. The children sat bored and sleepy hearing about Jonah. 

You saw one little light reflection out of the window flicker on the floor. Then it settled to normal before any young eyes could see. 

For the longest time, you wondered why you had these gifts of moving light around- the flash from the sun, from windows, and its reflections. It wasn’t helpful against Grendel…but it would be helpful for revenge.

Service began, and people filed over the floors, made of clear tiles of white and black, almost like a chessboard. And what a move you had in store if it was successful.

You looked up at the light shining through that brown church so it no longer looked dreary. 

The service began as normal. Blessed be God’s people now and forever amen and all that. A few hymns. Scripture readings. Will gave a sermon about King Saul and David. The men who were a part of Grendel’s army sitting in the congregation smiling. More intrigued to hear about swords and violence than patience and gentleness. 

A prayer would be the right time. Everyone ducked their heads down to repeat what was in the Book of Common Prayer.

“Lord in your mercy,” began Will.

“Hear our prayer” the congregation intoned, as did you.

You stared at the sunlight streaming down all of the windows.

“Lord, hear us,” began Will.

“Lord, graciously hear us,” replied the congregation.

Taking in a deep breath, you silently urged the sunlight to move. 

“God of love,” began Will.

“Hear our prayer,” responded the congregation.

The lights moved from the windows over the heads of all. First one stream of light, then another, and another. Everyone’s heads were down to pray, they didn’t notice. 

The lights glowing on all the windows were directed at you like stage lights. You felt warm beneath it. You squinted beneath it, smiling, your magic keeping it at you. But kept repeating the prayer responses from the service.

“Lord, meet us in the silence,” began Will.

“And hear our prayer,” replied the congregation.

When their heads turned, they saw the sunlight was all pointing in your direction and beaming right at you.

There were gasps. You heard a few books of Common Prayer taking a tumble to the floor from people dropping them in shock. They gaped at you- the frightened and superstitious town. For many things happened that scared them…this was harmless.

The service went to a halt as they all looked at you.

“It’s a sign! From God!” one murmured.

“He blessed her!” whispered another.

“A blessed lady!” another agreed.

They lost interest in Will, whose mouth dropped wide, then broke into a smile. He saw a miracle before him.

The congregation turned to you. One woman went up to you and you offered your hand, she kissed it.

“God has blessed you, my dear- it’s a sign from him!” she gasped.

“He has redeemed her…redeemed her from the Trickster God!” agreed another.

They all loved and looked at you favorably, their eyes soft and their faces turning to smiles. You released the magic and suddenly Will had to re-direct everyone’s focus back to him and the service.

But they went up to you, smiling and in awe and admiration and coming in droves to smile in awe of you once it was over. 

Now you had to keep it up for a good reputation in this town was as good as an alibi.  

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next day, you received something in the mail- something completely shocking you almost dropped it, but it was shaking in your hand.

“I do cordially invite you to a celebration of my birthday- held on the date below. Please write back if you will be there. We plan for only a few gifts here and there, some nice beef, and plenty of cake and ice cream. We shall prepare enough seats for the dinner.

Mrs. Seaborne.”

She invited you! She invited you! To her birthday celebration! What was she thinking?! Why? Did she want the new miracle woman in her circle? Was she trying to perhaps re-acquaint herself with you after sticking Will’s penis up her-

You caught yourself, catching your breath. When your parents arrived, they hurried and saw the paper. Their eyes went to you.

“I am only…only…”

Calming down your racing heart, an idea hit you. If you were at her house, you would figure out which departments of science she was contacting. You would know who to send the blackmail to.

You brought up a smile.

“I am only Thrilled! I shall write to her at once and accept! How fun!” you replied.

You would figure out where to send the second letter to ruin Cora there.

“Wonderful! Good to know your silly jealousy of her is done,” agreed your father.

“But there will be gifts- you must go and find something for her,” your mother reminded you.

…and a new idea came upon you.  Another act of revenge on her, even worse than sending a few letters. One where none would ever suspect it to be you.

“I shall, mama.”

You knew what you had to do now, you just had to steel yourself and do it. 

[lambtotheslaughterr]

COMING SOON

After finishing The Taming these will be next in line (all original stories). my 500 celebration requests will be completed once i have 10 requests (meaning there is ONE (read post) spot left so someone take it). Rise is part of an apocalyptic universe (here is the post) & part two featuring Ransom Drysdale will begin after completing part one.

so, a summary, when Rise is completed it will be followed by Summit, once Summit is completed, it will be followed by Fall.

once The Taming is completed it will be followed by the following:

let me know what you think~

[ALL OF THE FOLLOWING WILL INCLUDE THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. 18+. READ AT YOUR DISCRETION. MDNFI.]

1.] Sycophant -- Reader is the youngest, most successful professor in her law practice at the university where she teaches. She's learned to harden her skin & her mind in a male dominated field, so when one of her most promising students begins to kiss up to her, it brings great pleasure to reader to remind her student that she's not to be fucked with. But that's just what her student is looking to do...

professor!reader x dark!Andy Barber

2.] pure//violence -- Reader is new to Kildare, moving there with her father who is to be the new reverend at the local church. Her whole life, reader has lived an honest & loyal path in her faith. Absolutely nothing, & no one, can deter her in her belief. That is until she meets the troublesome Rafe Cameron, who tests her commitment to her religion...

christian!reader x dark!Rafe Cameron

3.] C O V E T -- Reader is happily married to the love of her life, Steve Rogers, but when Steve's long time best friend, Bucky, returns from war suffering from shell shock, Steve insists on moving his best friend into their home to help him cope & recover. Reader is readily available to assist in Bucky's recovery process, but little does she know that the more time she spends alone with Bucky, Bucky can't help but to covet the one thing he shouldn't...his best friend's wife.

Steve Rogers x housewife!reader x dark!Bucky Barnes (1940's)

That's what will be coming soon! Please share your thoughts with me!

oona<3

[holymultiplefandomsbatman]

Confess Your Sins

William Ransome x Reader

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Confession has never been more fun. Especially when Reverend Ransome isn't above sinning himself...

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI; cockwarming, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, humiliation kink, biting, historically inaccurate; I chose violence with this one, so prepare yourselves. 😂

main masterlist

Sunlight shone through the high church windows, casting warm shadows. You looked up at Will, trying to sit still as his blue eyes stared you down.

Heavy feet shuffled along the wooden floor only a few inches away. A few seconds later, the small window of the confessional booth opened from the other side.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. My last confession was two weeks ago.”

Your teeth ground together.

Will shifted to open the small window on his side, causing his cock to hit a different angle deep inside your cunt. A flash of heat raced up your spine. You clenched around him, inhaling sharply through your nose.

Will gave you a warning look and adjusted you on his lap to make sure you weren’t visible from the other booth. Then he opened the wooden clasp to let the confession begin.

Your hands balled into fists.

Will’s eyes never left your face while he listened to the confession, occasionally shifting in his seat. Every twitch of his hips, no matter how small, sent sparks through your body. You could feel every vein, every ridge of his cock as it dragged along your walls. Another desperate whimper rose in your throat and you swallowed it down with a soundless gasp of air.

Will let his hands rest on your thighs. He squeezed gently, his palms running up and down your thighs in a maddening rhythm while the man in the other booth rambled on, blissfully unaware of the sinful events happening just a few inches away.

Your body arched on Will’s lap as he squeezed your thighs again, rougher this time. His grip was firm and steady, those long fingers digging into your skin, applying pressure and releasing again. His blue eyes never left your face while you squirmed under his watching gaze.

You rolled your hips against him and quickly had to muffle your desperate sounds behind your palm when he responded by thrusting upwards into you without warning. It was still rather tame compared to what Will was capable of when he truly let himself go. But even that gentle thrust had you whimpering in desperation as your walls clenched, squeezing his cock mercilessly.

“Reverend?”

The man’s voice from the other booth hit you in the face, knocking the air out of your lungs. You froze.

Will’s eyes grew wide.

He let out a deep breath before continuing with the confession.

His voice wavered every now and then, making your walls flutter around his cock. His hips bucked upwards in response and you let out a string of desperate noises, pressing your palm even firmer over your mouth to stifle your moans.

Will’s breath hitched again as he listened to your muffled whimpers and moans. He groaned quietly and everything started over again. It was a vicious cycle of blissful torture.

By the time the man finally left, you were shaking. Your hands clutched Will’s shoulders as you rocked back and forth on top of him, trying desperately to chase your oncoming orgasm.

Will’s hands firmly held your waist, controlling your movements. He was guiding you along at a rather slow pace, but you knew he wouldn’t be able to keep that up much longer. His jaw clenched, the firm grip on your hips sometimes growing almost painful as his fingers dug harshly into your waist whenever you rolled your hips a certain way.

You bit down on your lip to keep the moans in that threatened to escape your mouth. God, how much you wanted him. How much you needed him.

You gave Will a pleading look, grinding down on his cock with enough force that your eyes watered as it dragged along your walls so perfectly.

Will sucked in a sharp breath, his blue eyes narrowing. He had that crinkle between his eyebrows as he frowned at you, a telltale sign that his restraint was slowly slipping.

Please!, you mouthed, trying to convey all your desperation in that one word. Trying to make him understand.

Will groaned under his breath. He just looked at you for a moment, his blue eyes mirroring the same desperation that burned you alive from the inside. Then he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

The heat of his kiss left you breathless. Your lips parted obediently, allowing Will's tongue to slip into your mouth and explore. Your breath hitched as he nudged your tongue with his own and challenged it to play along.

“Reverend Ransome?”

The voice came from outside the booth.

An icy shiver raced down your spine. Will froze. He slowly pulled away from your lips and you exchanged a look of shock.

Your heart hammered away against your ribcage, your breathing suddenly way too loud in the small space of the confessional booth.

Whoever was there would only have to pull back the curtain to discover the two of you.

Your disheveled state would be somewhat simple to explain; maybe you’d started feeling sick. Then it would depend on your acting to make the person believe it.

Will’s pants being unbuttoned while he literally held you on his lap? That would be far more difficult.

Then again, the thing people would see was you on Will's lap…

The steps outside drew even closer. “Reverend?”

Will gasped quietly. He tightened his grip on your hips until it became almost painful. His cock twitched.

You stared at him in surprise, confused by the reaction.

Your hand flew over your mouth again as Will surged forward. He started thrusting his hips in earnest, the force of it making you bounce on his lap.

The wood of the confessional booth creaked quietly under the strength of Will’s thrusts as he snapped his hips into you like a man possessed.

You’d never seen him like this before.

You clung to his shoulder with your free hand, digging your fingers in as you held on for dear life. Every new snap of Will’s hips sent you tumbling closer and closer to the edge.

A muffled groan left your mouth as he whispered into your ear, his voice rough and almost demanding.

“Touch yourself for me.”

You frowned for a second.

He couldn't be serious...

If you did that, you’d either have to let go of his shoulder and fall, or you’d have no way to keep yourself quiet.

Will only narrowed his eyes and emphasized his words with a harsh thrust.

A small, desperate noise left your lips as you quickly nodded your head. Your hand left your mouth, instead sliding between your legs to rub your clit. The moan you so desperately wanted to let out instead turned into a breathless sigh as every brush of your fingertips brought you even closer to the release you craved. It burned under your skin like a kindling flame.

Will groaned under his breath and buried his face in the crook of your neck, rutting into you at an even more desperate pace. Your breath hitched as he bit into your shoulder. His teeth dug into your skin to muffle his loud moan as he came hard.

The combined sensation was almost enough to send you over the edge.

You threw your head back, your hips bucking into your hand as you tried to hold back the groan of frustration that was building in your throat.

You could almost taste the sweet release of your orgasm…

Will gently pushed your hand away and replaced your fingers with his own.

A strangled whimper ripped from your lips as his lightly calloused fingertips unraveled you in a matter of seconds. Pleasure raced through your body like lightning and you threw your head back, letting the overwhelming emotions escape your mouth in a deep sigh of ecstasy.

Will wrapped his free arm around you and held you close. He helped you ride out your orgasm until you were fully spent, then embraced you tightly when you collapsed forward into his chest.

You looked up at him with a soft, exhausted smile and caressed his cheek with your fingertips.

Will chuckled before he leaned forward to kiss you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips moving slowly against his as you basked in the warmth that Will’s gentle kisses sparked in your chest.

The steps outside the confessional booth moved away. Then the dull bang of the church door echoed in the silence.

This was supposed to come out in time for the Valentine Event by @muddyorbsblr but then I got swamped by uni stress. I hope you still enjoyed it. 😄💜

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @muddyorbsblr @mischief2sarawr @mochie85 @fictive-sl0th @gigglingtigger @xorpsbane @lokischambermaid @loopsisloops @thomase1 @vbecker10 @michelleleewise @holdmytesseract @sarahscribbles @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @lokikissesmyforehead @wheredafandomat @animnerd @joyful-enchantress @springdandelixn @coldnique @peaches1958 @lovelysizzlingbluebird @tallseaweed

This fic: @ellooo0ooo

[liminalpebble]

Liminalpebble’s Masterlist Library

Sex and Death (Masterlist)

A Wallander fanfic (Magnus Martinsson x Original Female Character)

Synopsis: Detective Magnus Martinsson and Noura Harik (a forensic linguist) are racing to find an enigmatic serial killer before he sets his sights on one of their own, but when Harik reaches a breaking point with the temperamental Inspector Wallander, everything changes.  

A/N: Magnus Martinsson x OFC, slow burn to smut, murder and violence (from the killer, not our protagonists), Minors DNI

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Violet (Masterlist)

 Will Ransome (The Essex Serpent) x Original Female Character  

Summary: The solitary Reverend Ransome leaves the empty nest of his home in Essex, beginning his life as a professor in London. His expectation of a contemplative religious life as a pious widower is complicated by an odd and alluring foreign student, Violetta Vespero. How can the conflicted vicar keep his gaze and worship skyward with such delicious temptations before him on Earth?

CW: Sacrilege all over the place, slow Burn to smut, angst, multi-parter, probably pretty historically inaccurate. Minors DNI

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The Refugee (Masterlist)

AU Loki x Original Female Character (COMPLETE)

Summary: In a timeline where Loki, the prodigal prince of Asgard, struck out to establish his vast and powerful Laufeyson Empire, he stumbles upon Lenora, a refugee scarred by his bloodshed. One of the few surviving Morhari, she is captured and forced to use her considerable intelligence in service to the fearful warlord who destroyed her nation and her life. Will the peasant turned captive asset find her way to freedom and her own power, and will the cruel and scheming god of mischief discover that he can be more than a villain?

CW: Non/dubious consent. slow burn to eventual smut. violence and torture. Loki is very unambiguously bad, morally complex but bad, and does bad things.18+ readers only.  

------

Eddie's Education (Masterlist)

Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x Original Female Character

Summary: 15 years after the events in the upside-down and Eddie's unlikely survival, he's still left with scars and an uneventful life working at his uncle's garage and as a part-time bartender. Although he planned to get out of Hawkins like a bat out of hell, he's still there and feeling stuck. At Uncle Wayne's suggestion, Eddie goes to night school to finally get his GED. Little does Eddie know that his life is about to get a lot more interesting when he meets his tutor, Leia, and realizes staying in Hawkins might not be so bad after all.

A/N: Eddie Munson x OFC, slow burn to eventual smut, multi-parter. Cannon divergent. morbid subjects discussed. Eddie's a sweetheart, Eddie Lives! Minors DNI

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Stray (A Lokitty Tale)

(Complete!)

A/N: Hi all. This began as a prompt suggestion by @mischief2sarawr and has since grown three heads and answers to no one. It's now a multipart, very fluffy, story about Lokitty. I have no idea where I'm going with this except definitely to the comfort district of fluff town...maybe driving through a little traffic jam of angst on the way there.

Synopsis: It's 1971 and you're a single shop girl living in the tumultuous, often damp, city of Seattle, feeling lost and alone. Meanwhile, Loki (under the guise of D.B. Cooper) is on the run from Thor the moment he jumped out of that plane. After crash landing in a dumpster and disguising himself as a stray cat to lay low, he becomes your beloved feline room mate and an unusual friendship begins to grow.

---

Between the Lines (An AU Loki Story)

Summary: The exchange of concubines amongst the noble houses of Asgard is nothing new to the royal family, however, it is to Asgard's solitary younger prince. Since Loki had always openly declared the tradition barbaric and loathsome, he shocks the court to its core when he changes his mind.

The trickster had yet another surprise in store when he selected you, a librarian from a noble house to occupy his bed.

You're stunned, intimidated, even afraid, of the sly second prince, but you know as well as anyone that to deny a royal decree is to court death.

And so you go, only to find that this mysterious man is not at all what you expected.

Pairing: Femme reader x Loki Pre-Thor 1 AU

CW: Allusions to sexual slavery dubcon/noncon within the society. Power imbalance. Eventual smut with questionable consent. Minors DNI.

AN: This will be a multi-parter but not a particularly long one, so if I leave you hanging between chapters, I promise it won't be particularly long before it all comes together.

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Lock and Key: A Professor Pine Story (2 Parts)

Part 1

Part 2

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One Shots, Requests, and Short Works (coming soon)

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Love Letters From... (coming soon)

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Memes What I Made (coming soon)

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And finally, a special appearance of The Holy Order of the Sacred Mango's mascot, Mew Mew the Mango. 💚

[sserpente]

Picture 2: Source

A/N: Oops. I read the book and Heavens, it’s good. I can’t wait to see how Tom is going to portray William! ♥

Here’s an additional disclaimer, for “The Essex Serpent” as well as the characters of this book borrowed for this fan fiction belong to Sarah Perry.

Words: 2698 Warnings: smut, non-con (just to be safe), old-fashioned sexist beliefs, religion, blasphemy, hysteria, adopted!Reader

This story contains themes that may be offensive and/or triggering for some readers. Please be aware that this is only a piece of fiction and make sure to heed the warnings before proceeding. For more information on the topic of dark themes, please refer to my FAQ.

-

Dear Reverend Ransome,

we write to you in the hopes of receiving your guidance and the help of God. Our unwed stepsister is unwell, yet our funds do not allow for calling upon a doctor from town.

We suspect the worst. Her behaviour has been insufferable and unacceptable for months, her temper concerning to the point we have begun to fear her young and fragile body might have become home to an evil spirit.

As you are a man of God, we pray to the Lord you will be able to save her soul and ask with all due respect and devotion if you would pay our humble home a visit at your earliest convenience.

Yours respectfully,

The Junathan Brothers

-

William Ransome frowned. Looking up from the letter, crinkled as it was in his large hands, he faced an imposing oak through the clean glass of his window by the desk, its green leaves trembling in the wind. It was a light breeze, nothing more and nothing less, bringing about spring and with it, the blooming of flowers and plants and the awakening of a great many animals, the resurrection of Christ. He had been looking forward to spending the upcoming Easter holidays with the community, to sending his prayers to Heaven and to feasting with friends and family… now with a start, as he watched the wind rustle through the quiet landscape, he found himself worrying about a woman in her early adultery, one which he had only met once as a young girl in a dress too big for her size.

Yes, the Junathans… he remembered them indeed. Three young boys, always out causing mischief and making trouble. It was them who had, nearly a decade back now, smashed one of the windows of the church with a pinecone while playing a silly game. At long last, so it appeared judging by the eloquence with which the letter had been written, they had all grown up. Why of course he would help. In fact, he had meant to pay the pub down the road a visit today anyway—he might as well change his plans and instead do something good.

Putting the letter down, he reached for his coat and went on his way.

-

“Stay in today. We have invited someone who we believe will be able to help… he might even know how to cure you, sister.”

You shook your head, snarling. This was ridiculous. You were not sick. How was it so wrong for a woman to speak her mind freely? To crave independence, a life driven by science and new discoveries rather than blind obedience to her husband, trapped in an old-fashioned faith older than dinosaurs?

Crossing your arms before your chest, you stared daggers at your brothers. If looks could kill, they would long be dead. For some peculiar reason, and perhaps given that you had been adopted as an infant, they seemed to believe they had to patronise you in every possible decision you had to make. It would not be long until they found a husband for you. You huffed. You would face the Essex Serpent rather than letting this happen.

“How many times do I need to tell you that I am not sick?”

Your eldest brother sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Our guest will be hungry. We should offer him something to eat.” He said. Expectation sparkled in his brown eyes, making you laugh out loud so suddenly he flinched.

“Your guest will be hungry. You should offer him something to eat. I am not about to cook a meal for a man who shares the same twisted and confining beliefs as you, dear brother.” With that, you stood from the uncomfortable kitchen chair and retreated to your room, your footsteps swallowed by the dark red carpet on the staircase.

-

You had reached for a book and started reading to distract yourself when about an hour later, there was a soft knock on your door.

“Yes?” The door opened, just a smidge, and a young man with stunning hair and mesmerising blue eyes stuck his head through the gap.

“Reverend Ransome? What are you doing here?”

“William, please. I… your brothers asked for me help… to see what’s wrong. They say you have been feeling unwell.”

You scoffed. “They called you? Oh, I feel perfectly fine.” Glancing at him, you nodded when he mutely asked to enter the room and closed the door behind him. William Ransome, a man of god—the type of man who did not believe in manmade fairy tales, except for when they were written down in the bible.

He ought to be more rational than your brothers then.

“May I sit?” There were no chairs in your room other than the cushioned one at your dressing table. He made himself comfortable when you nodded once more.

“So tell me, how have you been feeling lately?”

“Normal. I am not possessed, you know. My brothers simply won’t accept I have a mind of my own. That I have a brain that I can think with. I’m adopted, remember? If they truly cared about me, they would respect my decisions.”

“Surely they mean you no harm.”

“They mean me no harm? Is that what you think? Their utmost priority is to have me married off to some rich bloke so it will help with the family’s reputation.”

“People gossip a lot these days.”

“I don’t care what other people think and neither should you, William.”

“It can be quite disheartening. When Stella, my wife, died… I was devastated. I prayed to God asking him why he had taken her from me all the while some unfortunate souls in town made up rumours about me visiting the local… brothel.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Rightfully so?”

“No! Of course not. Jesus.” William shook his head, clearly shocked by your blunt assumption. “You have quite the temper.”

“For not wanting to be put on a leash like a dog? Yes, I presume I do. That’s not a crime now, is it?”

The Reverend hesitated. “No… it isn’t.” He spoke your name then, prompting you to meet his blue eyes. “When was the last time you took a deep breath? You seem very tense to me.”

“You would be too if your brothers thought you are sharing your body with a demon.”

William sighed.

“So will you tell them that they are wrong? Will you tell them to listen to reason? I am fine.”

He pursed his lips and stood, stirring hope in your guts. “I will go speak to your brothers.” Relief poured through your veins as you watched him leave and leaned back on your bed. Perhaps you should have prepared him some food after all.

-

“How did it go? Did she speak to you?” It was your youngest brother who jumped from his seat when the Reverend returned to the kitchen with a rather concerned expression on his face.

“She did. I see what you were talking about.”

“She is being completely irrational, isn’t she?”

“Judging by the emotional outbursts you have been describing… and her temper which I got to experience first-hand just now… I think I know what is causing her distress.”

Your oldest brother swallowed. “Is it… is it a demon?”

“No. Nothing of the like. It appears… it appears your sister is suffering from hysteria.”

“Hysteria? Is that… that is curable, right?”

William nodded. “I have a friend who is a medical practitioner. I have seen this type of behaviour before. There is no doubt.”

“Reverend… with all due respect but you know we are currently not in the financial position to afford—“

“I know,” he interrupted him gently, “I was not implying he’d come here. I… I know what to do. I can help and I believe, with God’s guidance, I will be able to cure her… if you let me.”

“Let you? Of course!”

“It is a rather unconventional method…”

“Reverend, whatever you need to do to help her, please do it. How will she ever find a husband behaving like this? How will she raise her children? You have to help her, no matter what it takes.”

William nodded, his expression stern. “The procedure will not hurt her, I promise you that.”

“Then go. Make this madness stop.”

Needless to say, he had never done anything like this before. Hearing someone’s confession in a dark room in church was one thing… but this? This was going to be an entirely different and quite frankly… intimate matter.

Taking a deep breath, he made his way back to your room and knocked once more. Your answer came promptly and when he let himself in, intuition advised him to lock the door for more privacy, pocketing the key… and to prevent you from running away from him screaming bloody murder. Only God knew what hysterical women were capable of.

“You’re back. Did you tell them? Will they finally leave me alone? W-what are you doing?”

William sighed. “I am here to help you.” You shuddered when he spoke your name and approached you, looking you deep in the eye. You were about to get lost in the blue of his irises when he suddenly averted his glance and offered you his hand. You hesitated. When you took it, he gently pushed you down on your bed so you came to lie on your back.

“Excuse me, what are you doing? What is your plan, do you want to drug me? Why did you lock the door?”

He uttered your name once more. “You have hysteria.”

“I have what?! Have you lost your mind now?” So much for being rational. He was worse than your brothers! Goodness, what… “You are mad is what you are! Get out!”

You gasped when he wrapped his hand around your wrists, gripping them tightly to stop your weak attempts to fight him off, even more so when he slipped his free hand between your legs and lifted your dress, his fingers reaching for the hem of your knickers. Your eyes widened. Mortified, you kicked at him, struggling to no avail. He might have been a Reverend but he had the strength of a lumberjack.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Don’t curse like that. It’s okay. I can help you. Let me help you.”

“You are in dire need of help yourself, Reverend. Do my brothers know about this?” In other words… if you screamed for help, would they come to your rescue?

“They allowed me to perform this treatment on you. Have faith. I promise I will not harm you.”

“Ha! You currently have your hand on my private parts, you… you pervert, you…” You yelped, horrified, when he tore your knickers off, revealing your cunt to his blue eyes and for just a brief second, you believed to see arousal flashing in them. One second was all you needed, with your heart pounding in your chest, as he let his guard down and you snatched your left hand back, striking him across the face.

The slap echoed through your entire room, forcing his head to the side and quickly forming a red spot on his cheek, your palm stung from the impact. The Reverend growled. Keeping a hold of your other wrist, he reached for the belt around his trousers and unbuckled it one-handed.

“You will end up hurting yourself.” He muttered—and the very moment you wondered how he did not sound angry at all was the moment he used to flip you around so you came to lie on your stomach with your face pressed against the pillow. You breathed in sharply, attempting to roll over when he had already grabbed your wrists again and tied them together behind your back using his belt. When he flipped you back around, you kicked your legs out in vain, your lower lip shaking—whether from imminent arousal or fear, you could not tell.

Next thing you knew, you could feel the tips of his fingers ghosting ever so slightly over your lips, parting them as tenderly as he would a pair of rose petals to free your clitoris. His thumb pressed down on it applying gentle but delicious pressure, circling it with slow but firm movements and making you jerk all the while he rested his free hand on your chest to feel your heartbeat.

He knew what to do, of course. He had done it before, with Stella. Only she had not suffered from hysteria.

And as he kept going with his affections, he witnessed you growing more and more aroused. William’s eyes locked with yours when your breathing changed, his digits feeling the wetness pooling between your legs as he massaged your cunt, paying special attention to your sensitive little nub peeking out from its hiding spot now, hardening and begging for more with every single touch of his.

Your own body began to betray you, a whimper escaping your lips.

“Shhh… it’s okay. It’s okay. Have faith in God.”

“S-stop t-this… please… you can’t just… you can’t…” But soon, the pleasure became too much for you to form any more functioning sentences, to ask him to stop because… because there was a part of you longing for him to give you more. Failing to resist him any longer, you finally relaxed on the bed with your lips parted, listening to the Reverend’s rapid breathing. He swallowed when your arousal grew audible and his slick fingers sent delicious sounds of bliss through your room.

Your toes curled and you tensed up, your hands behind your back clutching at the bed sheets and William knew he had brought you to where he had wanted you—to the brink of orgasm. You moaned when he slipped two of his long digits into your warmth, feeling you clench around them rhythmically as your peak of pleasure rippled through you like jolts of electricity, making you shake and lose control over your senses.

Once your climax subsided… you felt at peace, relaxed. Like the Reverend had taken all of your stress, all of your worries and all of your fears from you.

You were covered in sweat when his hand finally retreated and he, respecting your modesty for what it was worth after this, covered you again.

“How do you feel?” He asked.

You felt better. Relaxed. Like you could conquer the world. But you were not going to admit that he had been successful—if only a little bit.

“No different than prior to… this.” You choked out instead. William stood—when he had knelt down you did not know but when he did, you noticed the considerable bulge that had formed in his trousers. Your lips parted. So doing this to you had given him pleasure too. He had enjoyed doing this to you.

Part of you was flattered. The other was furious, even more so when he followed your curious gaze. Guilt flitted across his face.

“You say you act in the name of God but at the end of the day, all you are is just another man driven by lust and the primal need for power. I pity you, William Ransome.”

The Reverend sighed. “Come. I’ll untie you.”

Passively, you let him roll you onto your side so he could remove the belt which had felt oddly pleasant on your skin. As soon as your hands were free, you slapped him hard—again.

The Reverend closed his eyes for a moment. Two seconds, maybe three. Eventually, he took one more look at you and made his way to the door. He unlocked it and left without another word, presumably returning to your brothers to report to them how it had gone.

-

“Reverend! Good Lord, what happened up there? Is she alright? I heard her screaming…” William was surprised the young brothers had not eavesdropped, pressing their ears against your door. When he met them again in the kitchen, they appeared even more agitated than before.

“Yes. Yes, your sister is fine but…”

Their eyes widened. “But what?”

“But I am afraid she will need more treatment.”

-

A/N: No gif because... well... the series isn’t really out yet? I might also make this a 3 Part Story. Interested, anyone? *grins innocently*

[wickednerdery]

Drabbles Completed!!

All sent prompts and two bonus ones, haha!!

Captain James Conrad x Reader: “You keep acting like a little brat and I’ll take you over my knee right here, I don’t care how many people are watching.”

Loki: “I don’t care how good it feels you’d better not cum until I tell you to.”

Jonathan Pine: “Yes! I mean yes, Sir!”

Dr Robert Laing: “Look at you, I’ve only started using my fingers and you’re already shaking.” & “Do you want it on your back or would you like to be on your stomach?”

Dr Robert Laing: Multiple prompts, too many to list, lol!

Ulfr x Aegor (OCs): "Are you wearing my shirt?“​

Reverend William Ransome: “You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are.”

Lucille x Sir Thomas Sharpe: “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.”

Thranduil: “Do you think you deserve to be punished?”

Adam (Only Lovers Left Alive): “Think you can handle that much?”

Dr Robert Laing: “Well, since you want to cum so badly, why don’t we see how many times I can make you cum right now.”

Loki x Mobius: “Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.”

Sir Thomas Sharpe x Lucille: Multiple prompts

Loki x Reader/The Bold One: Loki Scepter Whump

Loki x Reader Imagine: ...And then Thor walks in...

((Got them all and then some done before vacation, woohoo!! Thanks to all who participated in any way, I had a blast!! As I said, y’all are still free to send prompts/imagines, I just won’t be able to get to them until I get back around Sept 7th. While gone I’ll do my best to drop in, maybe reblog some stuff, though. Thanks again, all, you’re the best!!))

[muddyorbsblr]

measurements

See the full 14 Days Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: After Cora's birthday party, your brother Luke, along with Martha, made a few offhanded jokes about Reverend Ransome being "small", you quickly put them both in their place by explaining what you do back in London: using a man's posture, gait, and overall stature to determine certain "measurements" for your clients.

Pairing: Will Ransome x Reader

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, to put it mildly, i am not the one, do not fucking try me); unprotected p in v; language [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: just a bit more than strangers to lovers; reader is Luke Garrett's sister

Every bone in your body told you to put as much distance between you and Will Ransome the second you met him tonight at the party your brother was throwing to celebrate Cora Seaborne's party. You'd gotten quite adept at reading situations and his particular one sent your rational thoughts into a tailspin.

A vicar, married with two kids, and yet falling helplessly in love with the very woman that you knew your brother Luke was also pathetically in love with. Exuding this strange repressed sensuality that he didn't even seem to be aware of with every awkward misstep throughout his little dance with Cora tonight.

And then there was the fact that he couldn't seem to stop himself from stealing glances at you, with a heat behind his steel blue eyes that you couldn't rationally attribute to the candlelight illuminating the quaint little home in Aldwinter that Cora and Martha had so warmly welcomed you into. If what you'd inferred from tonight's gathering was correct, then building a meters thick wall between you and the disorientingly beautiful man this town called Reverend was the best course of action.

That was how you ended up here, in the dining area of the cottage sitting at the table with Luke and Martha while Cora ran out of the house to 'think things through' on the way to the Ransome household to return the elder daughter's scarf. You'd thought it was wise not to accompany Cora to that little charade of hers in case her well-intended enough good deed turned into something less than innocent.

Now you were stuck listening to your brother lament on why Cora didn't fancy him and what she could possibly see in Reverend William Ransome that she couldn't see in him.

You had an answer, of course. You'd measured the man within five minutes. You had ten good reasons why he was chosen over your brother.

"She's collectin' 'im," Martha surmised, her words slurred from her borderline excessive intake of wine. "She wants to…put him in a little glass jar. And label his parts in Latin."

That seemed to give your brother a tiny burst of confidence, holding his fingers mere inches apart. "Little?" They both began to laugh at the notion, of which you quickly followed suit, but you were more laughing at their hunch than with it. "Won't need a very big jar, then…bit microscopic," he slurred, putting his eye up against the mouth of the wine bottle and pretending it was his microscope back in his practice in London.

"Oh Luke, dear brother mine, you'd be remiss in your observations if you actually believe that," you spoke up, swirling your wine in your little goblet as the two turned their heads to look at you. "I dare say you're speaking from your ego rather than that superior brain you always seem to be parading around back home."

"And what do you know about it then, little sister?"  He leaned back in his chair, an air of superiority overtaking him as he asked you that question, a clear show of how non-intimidating  he viewed you as compared to himself.

You stood from your chair, placing your goblet down on the table, before beginning. "You're laughably unaware that I actually read through all your medical textbooks, aren't you?"

"No, I've known since I began medical school, Y/N. I just also know that without the proper instructor that a proper school can provide the fine young men in our society, much like myself, that you're ill-equipped to understand—"

"A wise woman once told me that university is just a bunch of young, well-to-do men, paying older and 'smarter' men to read to them. I figured I would save the money and the time and the misogynistic lectures about how women are for the house and the 'little jobs', and instead read to myself," you cut him off, his smirk fading by the slightest at your words.

"And what half-witted misguided woman told you this then?"

Your lips twitched upward in a smirk of your own. "Cora Seaborne." That name made his mouth fade into a grim line, most of his ego suddenly deflating. "Now that that's sorted, I can get to telling you what I've been doing with the knowledge I've acquired from your books over the years. See, Luke, since I cannot become a doctor in my own right and have my own practice, I set up a consultation office in London based on the area I chose to specialize in."

"What area is that?"

You turned to Martha, who seemed genuinely curious about what you'd done with your knowledge. "Anatomy. My clientele consists mainly of women who come to me for my evaluation on potential lovers." Her eyes widened at your description, her curiosity clearly piqued. "I use a man's stance, gait, and overall posture to give a woman a certain set of measurements. Now I'm not saying it's accurate down to the centimeter, but considering some men's proclivities to round up, I reckon my estimates are rather…reliable."

"Bollocks," Luke bellowed, his syllables extended as a result of his inebriation. "Measure me, then, genius." He hissed the last word, clearly meant as a jab rather than a compliment.

Before you could give him your answer, you three were interrupted by a loud knock at the cottage's front door. "It's open!" you called out, feeling your knees weakening at the sight of the towering vicar stepping through the threshold, the bow tie of his suit loosened a great deal and his hair disheveled by the rather violent night air. "Oh. Hello again, Reverend Ransome. Cora isn't back yet, I believe she went to return a scarf your daughter left behind…? I'd have thought you would have seen her on your way back here."

"Erm…no. I did not," he answered you, a tinge of nervousness evident in his voice. Or perhaps it was awkwardness. Perhaps he sensed that the other two people in the room with you held a questionable amount of dislike towards him as well.

"Ah, well perhaps she's still trying to enjoy the night air then. She should be back soon. You're welcome to sit and wait for her, if you'd like." He gave you a timid smile as he sat down at the edge of the couch, rubbing his hands down his expansive thighs.  The action had such an effect on you that you could feel the walls of your sex clenching around fuck all nothing, so you turned toward Martha again, clearing your throat as if the action would also clear your mind of the lurid thoughts that just entered your head. "Where was I again?"

"Your brother challenged you to--"

"Oh, right! Right. Thank you, Martha." You turned to Luke again. "Out of respect for you, brother mine, I did my best to never…but since you did quite literally ask for it, five. But you tell women it's six because you believe that they can't tell the difference, but believe me when I say this, they can. They most definitely can."

His eyes widened at your estimate, his smirk once again fading into a straight grim line on his face. "There's no way—you guessed!" His voice had taken on a petulant tone, rife with his indignance and disbelief.

"Well judging from the lack of smugness on your face, it seems my guess is quite accurate. Now moving on to your earlier jests about…ehem…little jars and microscopes?" The amusement on Martha's face disappeared as her eyes darted ever so quickly to the vicar. "Let me just tell you both that you're very very wrong." You emphasized your point by briefly holding your hands a couple inches less of a foot apart, making them both choke on nothing.

"I may need to pay you a visit when we return to London then, Y/N," she chuckled, taking yet another swig of the wine. "Someone I want you to err…evaluate."

You gave her a coy smile as you stepped in between her and your brother, crouching down so your faces were level with theirs, and you could speak in much more hushed tones. "I don't just read men, by the way. I read situations," you began to explain. "You two have a borderline intolerable tension about you, so I highly suggest that you take it upstairs, explore a connection based solely on your shared experience and, as the Americans would so crudely refer to it, fuck it out."

Luke sounded like he was choking on his own spit at your words. "Little sister!" he slurred. "Since when did you become so crass?"

"I haven't been little in nearly a decade, Luke Garrett," you snapped back. "Perhaps if you'd bothered to actually look in the last ten years instead of constantly trying to prove yourself my superior, you would have realized it."

Your venom seemed to dissipate a touch when Martha broke the tension between you and your brother. "What shared experience?"

A self-indulgent smile found its way onto your face, the uncomfortable shifting on the couch from Will Ransome not going unnoticed by you. "Both of you are pitifully in love with Cora Seaborne," you whispered, feeling an almost addictive power coursing through you as they sputtered and stood out of their seats, the contents of the table rattling in place. "Go on, then." You jerked your head in the direction of the stairs.

"You'll be alright to tidy up here then, sister?"

"Of course. I've been tidying up after you for decades, Luke, this is child's play for me at my age."

The two of them made quick work to vacate the dining area, going up the stairs where you'd hope neither of them would last very long so that you wouldn't be subjected to the sounds of their little tryst for too long. At least for now you were free of the smugness in the air that always seemed to be present when your brother was around.

The only thing you didn't quite think through was that now you were alone in the bottom floor of the cottage with the absurdly tall vicar you'd spent a good portion of tonight trying to avoid, waiting for Cora to finally return from 'clearing her head'.

You gave him an awkward smile as you began to clear the dishes from the party, making the split-second decision to gulp down the remainder of your wine in hopes that it would at least hinder you from feeling how rife with tension the room still was because of the way his gaze was filled with that bizarre repressed sensuality. You stifled the groan that wanted to escape you once the realization dawned on you.

That heat in his eyes had nothing to do with the candlelight.

And the wine only worsened the effect he had on you.

"I could assist you with that," he offered, standing and making his way to the table before you'd even had a chance to accept. You did your best to silence your sigh, feeling exponentially warmer now that he was mere feet away from you as you mumbled your gratitude. "May I ask what that quip of Doctor Garrett accusing you guessing something was all about?"

It was your turn now to choke on the air. "Just something about my profession, that's all," you answered evasively, hoping that it would be enough for him to drop the subject.

"And what profession would that be?"

"Anatomy." You thought it best to keep your answers as vague as possible. "I think it prudent to not give too many details about the intricacies of my job to people I'd only met today, so…perhaps if we were to ever meet again."

You'd both made your way to the kitchen, placing the dishes and glasses into the sink as you carried on your conversation. "Perhaps I'll hold you to that, Y/N."

Fucking hell, you thought to yourself. For a man of the cloth he sure sounds like his entire form was crafted by the Devil himself, sounding like sex when he says my name like that should be a damn crime.

When you turned around to return to the dining area -- and put some much needed distance between you two -- you realized how close he'd been standing, barely a foot separating the two of you from one another, the heat radiating from his body washing over you and making you find it difficult to breathe. The air around you began to thin once he'd stepped even closer, his fingers lightly touching the inside of your wrist, slowly traveling up your arm.

Your brain scrambled for a way out of this, knowing full well that a dalliance with a married man would never sit right in your conscience. Even if he was the one moving closer. Even if he already was potentially committing indiscretions against his marriage.

"Cora," you whispered, already feeling the loss of his touch the moment the name left your lips.

"What?"

"She won't take too kindly to me encroaching on what's already hers." Your words were enough for him to take a step back and grant you enough space to sidestep and make your way back to the living area. They were also enough to sober you to the harsh reality of the situation.

Because he belonged to Cora, no matter how his marital situation may change in the coming months given his wife's health, Will Ransome would never be yours.

Two Years Later

"You're sure about these numbers?"

You faced your last appointment of the day, Celia Marsters, with an accommodating smile. "I wouldn't say pinpoint accurate, but a good enough estimate. As per the feedback from my previous clients who have availed of his particular service of mine, the largest discrepancy I've ever had was…perhaps a quarter of an inch?"

Her eyes widened at your statistics. "Really? That close, huh?" You nodded, a wide grin forming on her face. "I'll have something to look forward to, then." She reached into her purse to take out a handful of paper bills and placed them on your desk. "And you're available for other types of consultation as well, yeah?"

"Of course, Celia. My door's always open for other consultations, not just…measurements." You both let out a fit of giggles at your choice of words. "Truly I do hope for your happiness that this would be the last man you'd need me to evaluate. You deserve a good and happy life."

"I hope so, too, Y/N." She gave you a quick hug before exiting your office, throwing you a look as she reached the stairs as if her knickers had dropped to the floor of their own volition. "Fucking hell, your next one's a looker."

You threw her a look to show your confusion. "Celia, you were my last appointment." Her amusement seemed to increase at that bit of information, giving you a shrug and a cheeky wink as she made her way down the stairs. You chalked it off to her being mistaken, that whoever was downstairs was probably here to see another tenant within the building.

A few moments after you'd started piling together the info you'd begun to gather for another client, you heard footsteps stopping right outside your door.

"Hello, Y/N."

That voice. You knew that hauntingly beautiful voice anywhere. The voice that plagued your lustful dreams ever since you came back to London from Aldwinter two years ago. The man that you'd sinfully fantasized over day in and day out, despite knowing that he would remain but a fantasy. You may be unconventional and some lesser minded men would even go so far as to accuse you of witchcraft, but you had your morals.

You refused to entangle yourself with men who already belonged to someone else. Even though it seemed that Cora held quite a different set of values from you, seeing as she'd been getting exceedingly close with your brother the last few months.

I wonder if he knows about it and perhaps he's simply letting the situation unfold, you thought to yourself. You quickly dismissed the thought, though, ultimately concluding that this was none of your business. A somber smile found its way to your face as you looked up and your eyes met his. Despite the toll the last few years had taken on him, the man was still as unfairly handsome as ever.

"Mister Ransome, it's good to see you again. I didn't know you were visiting London." You stood and motioned toward the couch that Celia had vacated. "Please, come in. I'm afraid Cora isn't here, though."

"I'm actually not visiting, Miss Garrett. And I didn't come here looking for Cora, either," he answered you as he stepped into your office. His words were so soft spoken as if he was hesitant in adjusting into a more casual atmosphere with you, just as you were with him. Understandable. Because the last time you two were in the same room together you quite literally scurried away from him. "I've just finished moving here to London with my children, and I passed by Luke's clinic earlier today to ask him where your office was."

His words had you taking an unsubtle step back. "You asked for me?" He answered you with a timid smile and a curt nod, choosing to stand by the couch as he stared at you with those heated eyes, an almost exact mirror of how he did so in your lurid dreams about the man. "Well I'm positive he didn't appreciate that," you remarked with a chuckle.

"And why would that be?"

"He gets it a fair bit. People coming to him and him believing that he has a new patient only to be asked to be pointed in my direction for…my area of expertise." You finished off your vague explanation with a slight chuckle, stacking the files you had out for Celia's case together. "Would it be so rude of me if I were to organize these while we talk?"

"Oh, not at all. Please. Truly I'm already delighted I even got to see you today." You took the opportunity to walk towards the shelf to hide your face from his view, allowing your expression to mirror your confusion over his words. A few moments passed before you heard him speak again. "May I ask why the walls are carpeted?"

"I'd like to grant as much privacy as I can to my clients, especially from any gossips who would let slip who was here making inquiries and consulting with me. The carpets ensure that to a certain degree the sounds coming out of this room would be muffled at best, lest we be in a screaming match."

Your only indicator that he was moving around your office was the way his voice seemed to be coming from a different spot at his next response. "You know, I distinctly remember a promise from you. That if we were ever to see each other again, you'd tell me what it is exactly that you do?"

An amused grin made its way to your face, taking the next few minutes to explain to him how you'd read your brother's textbooks from medical school, and how you used it as the backbone to build the foundation of your services. "Tell me, Mister Ransome…did you receive some peculiar looks when you informed reception that you were here for my office?"

"How did you--?"

"Majority of my clientele are women," you explained. "The anatomical knowledge that I wield so that I may provide the services that they avail of is…mostly geared for them. The services I offer gives them a rudimentary evaluation on a potential lover." You took a breath, walking back to your desk before you finished your explanation. "I use a man's stance, gait, and overall posture to infer a certain number. A measurement, if you will."

You glanced up to see his reaction to your words, stifling a chuckle as he glanced down to his crotch before looking back up at you,  the expression on his face daring you to confirm his unspoken question. The only response you could manage without bursting into a fit of laughter was a quick nod of your head. His next question, however, had you choking on your own spit. "Did you ever measure me?"

The words came out sputtered and stammered from your mouth. "I-It was purely o-on instinct. An acc--an accident, I swear to you." A chilling realization dawned on you, that he might now be questioning your meeting from two years ago. "I can assure you that Cora didn't invite me to Aldwinter so that I could evaluate you," you spoke in a rush.

"Y/N, take a breath. Please. You truly don't need to be on your guard around me." He held his hands open, arms outstretched towards you as he took a few steps forward. "It never even crossed my mind, really." He made his way to you and gently placed his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. "Breathe, sweet girl."

You suddenly became aware of how close he was standing to you once again, nearly forcing yourself to calm down so you could defuse the crackling tension that seemed to suffocate you now that he was standing not even mere feet away, hands holding you as if you were more than a near stranger to him. "Thanks," you said cautiously, giving him a strained smile. "Anyway, I suppose now that I've brought her up, I feel I should ask. How are things between you and Cora?"

You figured that mentioning her name would give him the same pause it did last time. Grant you just enough space so that you could maneuver your way out of his hold.

You were wrong.

Instead he gave you a small smile, his hands traveling down your arms to hold your own comparatively smaller ones, stroking the back with his thumbs. "Cora and I decided it best to not pursue any further romantic relationship. We tried. It didn't work out."

"Oh…" you breathed out, trying to focus on anything other than the strangely comforting warmth of his touch. "May I ask what happened? I mean…she seemed absolutely taken with you and now--"

"Now she's beginning a relationship with your brother, Doctor Garrett." Your eyes widened as you realized he was already aware of the very information you were keeping to yourself. "She was there with him when I visited his clinic." The air left your lungs as he moved a hand to cup your face, stroking across your cheekbone with his thumb. "As for what happened…I didn't think it was fair for her. If I chose to stay with her even though I couldn't seem to stop thinking about someone else."

You were unable to say anything in response as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, a timidity still lingering about him despite how brazen the action truly was. That reserve, however, dissipated within moments as he moved his hand to start taking out the pins holding your hair up, pulling you close to him for another kiss as he did so.

Once you felt your hair cascade down your back, the pins once holding it up falling soundlessly to the carpeted floor, you weakened in Will's hold as he maneuvered you to lay down on your desk, your back laying flat against the wooden surface. "I need to know you want this, too," he rasped as he pulled away, placing his hands on the desk at your sides as he hovered over you.

The only response you could muster was a breathy moan of his name. Your mind was a mess, your lungs struggling to let in air in the aftermath of his kiss. Not to mention how the light coming in through the textured glass of your office window cast such an otherworldly glow onto his face, stealing away what was left of your rational thought.

"I need to hear you say it," he pleaded softly, pressing the lightest of kisses to your cheek, his lips ghosting across your skin as he continued his words. "You've lingered in my thoughts since the day you left Aldwinter. And I want nothing more than to kiss you again. To touch you. To take the dreams that have haunted me for years and make them real, but I need you to tell me you feel this too. That I didn't spend all this time fraught with a delusion that maybe you--"

"Feel the same?" you finished for him, your voice taking on a huskier tone as the air around you seemed to thicken exponentially. Feeling like you were inhaling molasses or chilled honey. "I do. I want this. I want you. Please--"

The rest of your words died on your tongue as he captured your mouth with his in a desperate kiss, finally allowing yourself to reach up and curl your hand around the back of his neck, your other grasping a handful of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. There was no resistance left in you when you felt his knee working its way between your legs, moaning into his mouth as he stepped between your parted thighs and you felt his hand begin to hike up the fabric of your skirt.

"These cases of yours…" he trailed off, curving his fingers around the back of your knee, coaxing you to part your legs wider. "You make an inference on whether the men you measure can pleasure your clients?"

You could feel your thoughts swimming at the feel of his hands caressing your bared thigh, finding it difficult to even form words as your ache for him grew stronger. "In a way," you whimpered. With how quickly your desperation for him was growing, you weren't above begging him to keep going.

He pressed his hips to yours, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he let out a groan against your skin. "Then tell me, sweet girl." A sharp moan escaped your mouth as he began to roll his hips into yours, his erection rubbing against your soaking folds. "Do you think I can pleasure you?"

All you could do was repeatedly moan "Yes!" as he kept grinding his hips to yours, pressing his lips along the side of your neck and working his way up to your mouth, kissing you languidly. As if he was savoring you. You moaned wantonly into the kiss as you felt his hand trailing upwards along your inner thigh until his fingers met with your slick entrance.

You gripped his shirt even tighter, starting to weave your fingers through his hair as his fingers left you, the sound of the laces of his trousers being undone sending you into a near frenzy as you grew more desperate for him by the moment. A staggered moan slipped through your lips as the tip of his cock brushing up the length of your slit, a shudder rippling through your body when you felt it tap against your clit before he started to inch his way inside you.

A feeling of fullness overwhelmed you as he buried himself to the hilt inside you, your mind in a state of rapture the moment a stuttered utterance of your name escaped him. You felt your walls clenching desperately around him once he grunted, "Mine." The tips of his fingers brushed across your cheek, making you open your eyes to the salacious sight of Will Ransome standing at full height, staring down at you with almost completely blackened eyes rife with ravenous intent. "May I m-move, dear girl?"

You placed your hand over his, pressing a kiss to his palm as you kept your gaze on him, before murmuring against his skin, "Please, Will."

That seemed to be all he needed to start moving inside you, his initial slow and careful shallow thrusts quickly turning merciless, pulling himself out until only the tip of his length remained, only to snap his hips to yours, fully entering you again in one fluid motion. Murmuring words of praise at you in fragments between each thrust.

About how beautiful you were as you took every inch of him.

About how he couldn't possibly get enough of you.

About how your moans were the sweetest music to him.

Every thrust and every praise seemed to work in tandem to steadily bring you closer to the peak of your ecstasy, like a coil you felt tightening more and more until you were begging him to push you over the edge.

That push came the moment you felt the pad of his thumb rubbing firm, tight circles on your clit, your ankles locking behind him as you pulled your bodies as close as you could manage, your walls clenching uncontrollably around him and bringing about his own release inside of you. The force of his hips bucking against you had him staggering forward, placing his hands on the desk at your sides to hold himself up, all the while he kept his eyes on you. Swimming with what seemed a mix of repletion and yet also a burning desire for more.

Neither of you moved as you fought to catch your breath, his forehead resting against yours as you both had looks of evident satiety on your faces.

"Please tell me you live near here," he breathed out, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

"A few blocks away but it's a quick enough walk," you answered immediately, your smile growing bigger, anticipating what ever his next words could be.

You let out a faint whimper as you felt him withdraw from you, placing a hand underneath you to pull you up to your feet. "Because, my darling girl, I very much want you again." He pulled you flush against him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth at the sound you made when you felt his once again hardening member pressing against your stomach. "Only this time on a bed. And naked."

A/N: That's a wrap for the lusty vicar for this collection! I can't believe we're finally here but there's only two days left in this project and really all that's left on my end is…two Loki stories 😳🫡

'everything' taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose, Chapter One (Loki x fem! Reader A Court of Thorns and Roses Hiddlesverse AU)

Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Mist and Fury reimagined with various Tom Hiddleston characters.

You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal.

Word Count: 3865

Chapter Warnings: Blood and sickness, discussions of death and dying. Cursing. Loki is a snarky little shit as always. Foreshadowing. I play with Canon because it's my fic and I can do what I want. Don't like; don't read. I don't like Cora Seaborne and it shows.

A/N: Hi guys! You don't have to be completely familiar with the A Court of Thorns and Roses series to read this, I hope! I hope you like it since it's literally the most unhinged idea for a fic I ever had. Instead of using Thor characters, we're breaking open the Hiddlesverse! But for those of you who are familiar, I've already figured out so far that Reader is Feyre, Loki is Rhsyand, Will Ransome is Tamlin, and I decided Stella is Elain. Initially, Stella was gonna be Feyre but I realized Reader could easily be swapped to be in her position to make it a Reader fic. Thanks to @mochie85 for ideas about characters and the title for this! If you're familiar with the series, I've figured out who the bat boys are, but I've yet to figure out who should be Amren, Mor (my beloved), maybe Nesta (my other beloved), or maybe Lucien. If you have ideas, let me know! I'm glad you guys enjoy this wild idea as much as I do!

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

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85

Aldwinter, England. 1884.

“I am sorry to say it, but you have consumption. And it is fatal.”

You froze in your bed. The doctor shook his head. Your heart picked up and you felt a lump in your throat- and this time it wasn’t blood to cough out.

“I know it’s bad news to hear a month from your wedding, but it’s true and you must know it, Miss Y/N,” the doctor continued.

You looked down at your shaking hands. Your jaw hung open.

“You’ll tell my parents…and Will, won’t you?” you asked.

You prayed it wasn’t so. That you weren’t losing your appetite because of sickness but something else. Any other sickness- any other! Just nerves about your engagement and wedding to the local vicar, nothing more. That you were just breathing hard from too much anxiety. You figured perhaps a bad cold as you grew weaker last week. Then Will himself was permitted to roll up his sleeves and press a cold cloth to your forehead, maybe you had influenza. But when you coughed out blood- you might as well have seen your own coffin.

The Doctor nodded.

“I’ll tell your family and the Reverend Ransome. They need to know. I’m sorry, but there is little else to do now but…settle your affairs and wait.”

You lay in that bed. The world spinning around you. Those two words- I’m dying. I’m dying, floating in you.

Good Lord, already about to die! And there was so much! What about the wedding! You were about to live here as a vicar’s wife- how could you die now?

You could hear the crying from downstairs when the doctor announced it.

Dying is quiet. Dying is lonely. Even dull. The most excitement you had was going to the living room and looking out the window. The season had changed to spring. The sun shone out more and beautiful flowers flourished. But you could not go out and smell or even pick one. Out to the countryside, and the white buildings. And the white church- where once it would be your wedding and, in a way, a second home post-marriage. Now it only stood as a reminder of the only ceremony you’d be involved in next was a funeral. When it became too much, you would move back to your bedroom. To your sickbed-your deathbed.

You laid in that bed looking up at Will as he paced about in his black sweater that afternoon.

“What is it? Is it me?” you asked.

“There’s…there’s going to be a dance tonight…” he announced.

You shrugged in your bed and then made a little laugh.

“Oh, Will! Go on and go! Dance away! Have a little fun for a while!”

“But if you should die?”

“I’m sure father will get you! Go charm all the ladies like you do in your fine suit! Dance with them! Dance with Stella, Violet, Clara- Go dance with Cora, even!” you said.

“Are…are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes! Go dance with the new widow and enjoy yourself for a night!” you encouraged.

He nodded, said his goodbyes, and then left.

Each day, you wanted to cry from watching out the window. Taking it all in- each minute getting closer to the last as your body shook with every bloody cough.

Hours became days. Days became weeks.

Oh, how little you took for granted! The beautiful sloping hills! The sound of the ocean right by the town! To never watch the flowers bloom in spring! To never watch the snow when it drifted down or complain about the summer heat. To never see another Christmas or Easter or any celebration ever again!

You saw walking by the people you got to know and love. Yes, even Mrs. Cora Seaborne- she moved in with her tiny son not long after your engagement. You could see her grey cloak and the way she turned her chin up in pride when she passed by other ladies, going about her “experiments” without a corset on. You heard her talk about her dislike of wearing them-even though you knew corsets were perfectly functional and comfortable. Did she know you didn’t have to tight lace? That you had to wear a slip beneath it? You saw women bike with them and pictures of female athletes with them. So why couldn’t she?

You took note of every teary visit from friends, family, and neighbors who heard. But not to see them- nor any of your other friends…Then oh! You wouldn’t see your closest friend! Dear Stella! To never see her smiling in her garden again!  To never more help add to her collection of blue items! To count them in her little brown boxes! Her stones and pillows and flowers and spools and go over the most interesting gossip in the town with her! You took note of any personal blue items you had to be left to her after you were gone.

But you would watch her go about, waving to you. You would watch and observe anyone else passing by your town from that window for hours.

Since your diagnosis you have been left alone often. Your parents slept over at a neighbor’s house. There were visitors, but they did not stay long. The risk of infection, they said. You spent your days isolated, dressed in your nightgown and tea robe, your engagement ring glittering on your finger.

But there was one sight you were not used to seeing.

A stray black cat. No one went up to claim him as their pet. Many people shrugged it off. Some smiled at it and then walked that way.

You were not used to seeing stray cats in Aldwinter. One would think it was a common sight. There were farms and wildlife. People kept pets.  Even your fiancée took his dog out to frolic around. But a stray cat wandering around? No, everyone knew to keep their pets inside. Lest they be taken by a large bird of prey or wander out into the wild for all sorts of nasty things to happen to them.

Beneath your blankets on your cushion, you couldn’t help but notice the black cat on the street. You leaned closer to the window to where your breath fogged the glass. A smaller black cat- lean but shiny in his fur. He had big green eyes and long whiskers. He looked around. He liked to go up to people and follow them. Sometimes he stared and meowed at people. He would wander away and then return. Often, he looked at you from your window.

The poor cat. It hadn’t eaten anything all day. It must have been starving.

You went over to the set that had your tea. There was a saucer full of milk. Slow but constant, you walked over to the kitchen to a bowl. You poured the milk in it. Then you walked outside.

“Here kitty-kitty,” you urged, offering the bowl. Clicking your tongue to lure the cat closer.

With a cheerful meow, the cat trotted up to you. He raised his tail straight up in friendliness. He sat down and began to lick the milk. Each little scoopful from the pink tongue that shot from his soot-colored face. But his loud purrs could not lie. You went back into the house. When you returned, you had a small plate with scraps of meat. The plate was filled up, especially since your appetite lowered with the consumption.

“I think you might be hungry too,” you said.

The cat meowed in response and began to eat the meat. Then he went up to you, rubbing against your legs and purring. Then he stretched up his front paws against your skirt. Full of fondness, he blinked slowly at you. You leaned down and found he let you pick him up. A feral cat wouldn’t let you do that-then was he an abandoned pet?

“Oh, poor little thing!” you cooed, settling him to rest over your shoulder like a baby.

He continued to purr, not struggling to get out. Then he curled up like a baby in your arms.

“You’re a sweet fellow, aren’t you? And quite handsome too!” you cooed.

You scratched the top of his head.

“I’ll make sure to feed you. Or maybe you could stay with me …” you offered.

He perked up, eyes intend on you.

“I’m not sure what Will would think of a cat staying with us- you’ll have to share with a dog. Maybe I could talk to him into it. You could live with us once we’re married…” you spoke out loud to the cat.

Then a cough rattled your body, you lifted an arm to it. Then when you lowered it, you saw blood on the sleeve.

That is…if you lived to be married at all.

You set the cat down and he hopped. Then he stood and looked at you, slowly blinking. Then, with a lifted tail, he trotted away. So much for having him in the house- but at least then it wouldn’t reek of cat excrement.

The cat did not return throughout the night or the next morning. Perhaps he was exploring the wild. But you left a bowl of milk and some meat scraps in the kitchen just in case. But the further the day went, the weaker you felt. Then you realized it was a struggle to get out of bed-your weakness tripled today. Your body burned with a fever, but you stayed beneath your blankets. You coughed out constantly into a handkerchief.  And when you took it out, you saw blood in a puddle in the cloth. Your own life trickling out with every drop. You laid back down on the bed, but despite your exhaustion, you were unable to sleep. To think-this was it. You were going to die now. This was the end- and you wouldn’t be comfortable and surrounded by those you loved. You would be alone.

Dear heavens above…please…someone…anyone…help me…

Then you heard a sound.

A meow.

Turning your head up, you saw the black cat. The same one. And you kept your door shut.

“How’d you get in here?” you welcomed, though the sound came out like a wheeze.

Then you laid back down, giving into another bloody coughing fit into your handkerchief.

Then a voice- smooth, rich, and lilting and familiar spoke.

“Why, it’s just too bad, isn’t it?”

You paused. Then you began to turn your head around. You saw no soul save the black cat sitting on the floor.

“Who’s there?! Who?” you called out.  

There was a flash of green light. It was so bright you squeezed your eyes shut. But when you opened, before you was a man.

A man who wore the strangest clothes you ever saw- green and black robes and pants made of leather and bits of hard gold armor around it. Even something like coat tails draped behind his legs. But you couldn’t deny he was the most beautiful man you laid eyes on- ivory skinned and raven hair that fell to his shoulders. A high forehead and cheekbones with soft blue eyes.

“Hello there, Y/N,” he greeted.

You pulled up your blankets to your chest- a man seeing you in only your nightgown? You might as well have been naked!

“Is…is this a joke?! Is someone playing tricks on me?!” you turned around. Maybe an old friend would pop out of a door and cry “surprise!” No one did.

“Oh, I may be a trickster, but it’s no joke…” he replied.

“How did you turn into a cat?”

“Being a magician and god of mischief has it’s perks,” he replied.

“A-a god?! I thought there was only one God!” you repeated incredulously.

“Well- let me introduce myself. I am Loki, God of Mischief and Prince of Asgard.”

Your grip on the blankets grew tighter. You felt yourself run cold despite your fever.

“This…this is a dream,” you dismissed.

He half-smiled.

“I may look like a ladies dream- but no, Y/N my dear- this is quite real,” he answered.

“Have…have I been praying to the wrong deity this whole time!?” you cried.

He sauntered two steps closer to you.

“I don’t usually receive prayers. But I hear yours- yours are pretty clear…” he said.

He looked down at the bloodied handkerchief in your hand. In one corner were more handkerchiefs- all full of blood.

“You are dying.”

“Never heard that before,” you scoffed.

He smiled at your words and then continued.

 “You will die very soon. Maybe in a week. Maybe in a day.”

He looked down at your hand, cocking an eyebrow at the shining ring on your finger.

“And it’s far too bad the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter will never have his bride! A perfect lady to the perfect priest for his perfect ministry in a perfect town and a perfect life.”

“What do you want from me!?” you prodded.

He tilted his head, keeping his smile.

“Is this how you speak to someone trying to help you?”

You clutched the blankets further over your nightgown.

“Help me?! You’re here for my-my-my body! I heard all the stories of pagan gods like Zeus! I know what they do to mortal women!”

He chuckled “I am a Norse deity, darling. And your vicar- this Will Ransome- is far more of a Zeus than I am.”

“What are you talking about? Whatever! It doesn’t matter- Loki, Do I have to sleep with you to save myself?”

He smirked.

“How very tempting. But no.”

“You wouldn’t make this without wanting something for yourself!” you spat.

With a flick of his wrist, he moved a chair in your room to scoot forward by your bedside.

“I am only here to help you- like I said. You know I have magic to do so. I just turned from a cat to a rather handsome bloke resembling your dear Lusty Vicar right before your eyes, hmm? Have you thought of what else I could do?”

“What can you do?” you asked.

His eyes widened as he sat down to see you, looking into your eyes. He kept his mischievous smile on his face.

“I can heal you.”

“Completely?!” you cried.

“Yes, my dear Y/N. You gave me your milk and food. So, consider it as a thank-you for your generosity.”

Though you leaned forward, you paused. These things were often too good to be true. You would not be fooled. And if he was really a fairy, like some say would wander about the forests- this would have a price. One did not enter a deal with them lightly.

“What is the price? This cannot be freely given,” you dismissed.

He nodded his head in acknowledgement of your words.

“Ah, someone who knows the way this works, I see. As if I ever doubted you. The spell, to go through and heal the person…the healed person must live with the spellcaster for one week out of the month.”

You crinkled your nose.

“Live with a man? I might as well be your whore!” You accused.

His smile never faded.

“Perhaps that’s what they’d say of you- but at least you would be a healthy whore,” he quipped back.

You felt a cough trickle your throat and you swallowed it back to ask him further.

“Where do you live?”

“In another realm, in Asgard- it’s rather like your time and place. Same old-fashioned attitudes about women. Only with much larger castles and higher buildings. But you will be safe and soundly returned to your world and wait for the next month.”

“Does it have to be every month? Could it be every year?”

“It must be every month.”

You tried to sit up. Then you felt his hands position you to sit up-leaning against the headboard. You glanced at him, seeing his features grow gentle about helping you. Then you crossed your arms and shot him with a glare. You would not lower your defenses to him easily- even if he was some kind of magical god!

“Make it three days! No- one!” you insisted.

Loki shook his head.

“It is one week. Or you can kiss your life and your precious priest goodbye.”

You took in a shuddering breath. Your own lungs weakening by the seconds, and it sounded like a wheeze.

“No one’s going to believe me! What shall Will think? What will my parents or his think?” you fretted.

“Why do you care what Will thinks-what anyone thinks! Your own thoughts should be what matters. What do you think, Y/N? It is your choice…would you like to die of consumption? Or live your life as normal and planned…and just take a little trip every month.”

You coughed again. Again, there was blood. You crumpled the handkerchief into your fist, never lowering your eyes off his.

“How will…anyone believe me? How am I going to explain this to them?” you fretted.

“You will tell them the truth…”

You lowered your hands, grabbing your blanket into a fistful.

“That I’m living with a man from another world?! Other than the one supposed to be my husband?!  Go to hell, scoundrel!” you cursed.

“Such talk from a Victorian lady! Much less one betrothed to a Holy man!” Loki chuckled.

“Sounds like you've never talked to an actual woman before. Even ladies can fight back when we have to!” you argued.

“If you wish it- such a pity I offered to save your life and you couldn’t accept it. Oh, well- it is your fate and your decision…” Loki said.

He got up from the chair. A swirl of green light began to swirl, starting from his boots and going up, up- he was already beginning to fade.

You rattled. You could feel life slipping out of you. Minute by minute. Slow and painful. You would never enjoy life in its simple beauty again. You would never see your family again. You would never see your friends again.

And you would never marry Will. And he would be alone, left to mourn you for all his days.

You didn’t want to die like this.

And for Will…for Will, you would sell the clothes on your back. This was the unbridled nature of love. For Will, you would walk across hot coals. For Will, you would jump into the ocean near the town. And for Will, you would make this deal with this devil.

“Wait!” you shouted, lifting a hand to stop him.

The green swirls dropped, melting like mist in the sunshine. Loki turned to you, his head tilted and his eyes with a glint in them.

“Do the spell. Make it happen. I’ll stay with you for a week every month,” you said.

He smiled.

“Excellent.”

He walked forward. Then he opened his large, white hand.

“Give me your hands, Y/N, my dear. This might hurt for a bit,” he warned.

He returned to the chair by your side. You reached over and eagerly grabbed his hands with both of yours. He closed his eyes. Green light surrounded around and over you. It filled and surrounded your room in an emerald glow. There was a sound of roaring wind that filled your ears. Pain seared your body and you let out a shout out of instinct. It filled up your body- surging from your forehead and toes until it centralized to your lungs.

But it was only for a few seconds.

Then it stopped.

Loki was still smiling as the green light swirled down to you and faded with the pain. Taking in a breath, it was deep and free from pain. You felt no urge to cough, and your limbs did not feel weak. Your head had cleared.

When you glanced down at your hands, they each had a black mark on them- a small star. When you tried to rub them off, they remained. It wasn’t ink.

“What’s this?” you asked.

Loki folded his arms and shrugged.

“You didn’t ask! But I shall explain- a reminder of the spell and your promise. But I see that the lovely color of your face has returned! Now…can you get up?” he asked.

You found you got out of bed easily. Your belly rumbled for want of food- your appetite had returned. You breathed in deep-your lungs as normal again. When you took a glance in the mirror of your vanity, you saw that indeed your face looked as it had before you fell sick. Loki walked over to look at your reflection too, just from behind you.

“How do you feel?” Loki asked, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear.

“Like…like myself again…” you dazed, astonished at the transformation.

You turned around to see him. He was only inches away from your face. Then, just as any gentlemen, he took your hand and kissed you right on the star. You hated how flustered and giddy it made you feel.

“Wonderful. My job here is done. I shall see you in a month, Y/N darling…” Loki promised.

He became a gleam of green light and then vanished.

Like a newborn fawn, you became used to having strength in your legs. You stretched them. You got dressed in your normal clothes- a shift, corset, petticoats, bustle, and a green dress. Then got to the kitchen. You found you were hungry again. You boiled a kettle for tea and began to pick off fruit from the bowl. Then you selected a slice of bread and ate it with the fruit, as well as gulped down all your tea. Not a crumb or sip was left.

There was a knock on the door and in walked your parents. They lowered their jaws to see you sitting at the dining table with the empty platter.

“Y/N! Why aren’t you back in bed?” your father asked.

“I feel…I feel…I feel fine. I feel good,” you said.

They ran to you. Your father pressed a hand to your forehead and felt that it was cool. He stayed with you as your mother fetched the old doctor. After he examined you, his jaw dropped. He took off his glasses, polished them with his jacket, and then put them back on. He re-examined you and then turned to your parents, his face turning white with shock.

“There’s no cure for consumption. But all her symptoms. They vanished. We’ll keep an eye on her but…she is a healthy woman.”

“Surely, you gave her no medicine without telling us!” Your mother cried.

“No…none!” he said, taking off his glasses in shock.

“Oh, it’s a miracle! Please- someone fetch Reverend Ransome from his duties! He must know this!” your mother cried as she reached over and hugged you.

Your father hugged you too.

“Why- just in time for the wedding next month!” he said with a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. But out of joy, not sadness this time.

They released their hugs and buzzed about to announce the news. The three words repeating out of all of them like excited parrots.

“It’s a miracle!”

Looking down, you saw the black stars on both of your hands. You would wait until the time was right. The time to explain the price that came with your miracle.

[muddyorbsblr]

14 days of valentines collection teaser 2

I just realized that we're less than 10 days away from February, which means that 14 Days of Valentine's is inching closer and closer! With that in mind, for this teaser, I'm going to give y'all a lil summary of what to expect from each of my entries for this project.

Story summaries under the cut

not a fever – James Conrad x Reader

You're quarantined in the laboratory with James Conrad as you try to determine what the effects of the pollen he was exposed to are.

hypotheticals & distractions – Magnus Martinsson x Reader

You and Magnus are tasked with the unfortunate duty of manning the phones through a Friday night and he decides you should play some games to pass the time.

all the right answers – Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Tom decides to help you through reviewing for a certification exam by incentivizing each correct answer, making the decision to "ruin the friendship" in the process.

midnight cravings – Loki x Reader

Deciding to take advantage of the fully stocked pantry within the Avengers Compound, you go down there only to realize that Loki has the same idea, and he decides he'd much rather enjoy his little snack with you. And on you.

paris – Jonathan Pine x Reader

After spending the last few hours pretending to be a loving couple while on a mission in Paris, Jonathan decides to lose himself in the fantasy of having you to himself.

eyes on me, darling – Loki x Reader

You knew that sending Loki raunchy pictures as you tried on lingerie was going to have consequences. You just didn't think that they would be coming your way so quickly.

forgive me, father – Will Ransome x Reader

After being plagued with depraved fantasies of Aldwinter's vicar for months on end, you go to confession in a desperate attempt to alleviate yourself of these sinful thoughts. You didn't expect that the man on the other side of the confessional would be none other than Will Ransome himself.

thirty seconds – Loki x Reader

To celebrate a mission gone right, Loki invites you to his hotel room to have a drink with him, and he proposes you two play a little game beforehand.

keep me safe – James Conrad x Reader

You run into a tent for safety after being chased by a massive insect-like creature while collecting flora samples from Skull Island. The tent belongs to James Conrad.

duty of care – Jonathan Pine x Reader

After Pine rescues you from a bloodthirsty mafia leader, he confesses his feelings for you while tending to your wounds.

maintain our cover – Older Magnus Martinsson x Reader

To catch a suspected serial killer, you and Magnus go undercover in the sex club the suspect frequents to choose his victims. You knew you'd have to partake in the activities with an attendee or two. You didn't expect that he'd want you to partake in them with him.

i have never – Tom Hiddleston x Reader

When you reveal to your co-stars that you've never had a positive experience kissing anyone, let alone a good experience doing more than kissing, Tom visits you in your hotel room to rectify that situation.

measurements – Will Ransome x Reader

After Cora's birthday party, your brother Luke, along with Martha, made a few offhanded jokes about Reverend Ransome being "small", you quickly put them both in their place by explaining what you do back in London: using a man's posture, gait, and overall stature to determine certain "measurements" for your clients.

relinquish the crown: obsessions & fantasies – Loki x Reader

The morning after you had Astrid removed from the palace, you had some rather concerning thoughts about Loki. And after he comforts you through the task of sorting through the traitor's belongings, you have some vivid dreams of him later that night.

[sserpente]

Picture 2: Source 

A/N: THIS IS PART 2! Find Part 1 on my masterlist! After seeing Tom live again last week and fangirling over the upcoming series with some lovely fellow Tom/Loki fans I met at the event, inspiration struck! Enjoy, everybody! ;-)

Here’s an additional disclaimer, for “The Essex Serpent” as well as the characters of this book borrowed for this fan fiction belong to Sarah Perry.

Words: 2033 Warnings: smut, dub-con, old-fashioned sexist beliefs, religion, blasphemy, hysteria, adopted!Reader

This story contains themes that may be offensive and/or triggering for some readers. Please be aware that this is only a piece of fiction and make sure to heed the warnings before proceeding. For more information on the topic of dark themes, please refer to my FAQ. 

-

William Ransome looked up from his throbbing cock. One of his large hands wrapped around it, he kept stroking himself until the sensation almost became too unbearable. It had gotten worse lately, so much worse and yet, he could not stop thinking about you while giving himself some relief. He could see you right in front of him every time he closed his eyes, writhing in pleasure and indigence both at the same time, staring daggers at him.

His visits were regular now, the whole procedure a routine more than anything. But God… you were so beautiful when you came on his fingers and, as he kept bringing joy to his hardened manhood, he thought about how he had found himself to be looking forward to meeting you for your treatments—to feel your juices coat his digits, to hear your soft moans and your insults which became more and more half-hearted the closer he drove you to orgasm.

You were being less stubborn these days, and more… compliant. He wondered what you would be like today. Would those innocent eyes be full of desperation, anger and, what he imagined must have been longing, meet his? Would your gasps and your whimpering fill his ears, fuel his own arousal?

He groaned then, his climax rippling through him like a hurricane. Spurting his seed all over his hand and the floor, he dug his free hand into the edge of his desk, enjoying how utter bliss filled his body head to toe.

William had long given up his denial. He was attracted to you. If it wasn’t for his position as the Reverend, his position as, quite frankly, your doctor, perhaps he would have asked your brothers for permission to make you his. Perhaps…

With a deep sigh—a rather clumsy attempt to regain his composure—he reached for the tissue in his pocket to clean both his hand and his now slowly softening member. Then, he tucked himself back in, reached for his black coat and left the house.

-

Reading had become even more important to you lately. It took your mind off things, carried your thoughts away from the handsome Reverend who would invade the privacy of your bedroom day in and out to force pleasure from you.

He believed he was helping you. He was convinced that God, or whoever was out there, would reward him for his kindness, his much-needed help. You scoffed at the pages of your book. Only his so-called “treatment” was not working on you, now was it?

How would those numbing flashes of pleasure change your mind about women’s value? How would it change your mind about not wanting to get married, about not wanting to waste your life raising children and cleaning the house while your husband got to build himself a career? It did not.

For what it was worth, you had stopped resisting. It was tiring, exhausting… and none of your struggles had stopped the Reverend from exploring your most intimate parts with his hands before. He had been quick to exchange the uncomfortable leather belt with a silken rope, one he must have asked the local tailor to craft for him, all to keep you in check without damaging your skin and now, the last couple of days, he had had no need to use it anymore altogether. For now.

He was an arsehole. A considerate arsehole but an arsehole nonetheless. And said arsehole was knocking on your door as of right now.

William let himself in without waiting for your response. You knew to expect him daily by now, knew to be decent when he came and to make time in your daily schedule for your… for your treatment.

Your eyes met, yours judgemental and almost hostile, his apologetic and yet firm.

You shivered regardless when he spoke your name. “Are you ready?”

“That’s what you ask me every day, Reverend, and yet you seem convinced that one day, my answer will change. That I will change,” you added a little more quietly, averting his gaze.

You heard him sigh and lock the door when you turned your back on him, lying down on your bed.

“I am just trying to help you. The least you could do is show me some respect in return.”

You scoffed. “Respect is earned. And I can assure you, you will not find it between my legs.”

And yet, when you spoke those words, you could feel yourself clenching down there. Your body had grown used to his skilled touches quickly, knowing what to expect and what to feel as soon as he stepped into your private space… quite literally.

“Let’s get it over with…” You spread your legs for him willingly, resisting the urge to slap his hands away and throw every curse word you had ever learned right at his face while he lifted your skirts to reveal your sex to him.

Once he was content with how you were positioned, he joined you on the bed, propping himself up with an elbow so he could keep an eye on your face and your reactions to him. And then, as soon as his thumb began brushing over your clit and applying just enough pressure to get you all worked up for him, your body grew putty underneath him and you, against your will, relaxed.

You could feel his hot breath on you as you began to pant soon after, two of his long digits pushing past what little resistance your body put up, curling at your g-spot and massaging your pussy with but one promise—bringing you to orgasm for him.

Arching your back, the first moan escaped your lips when he applied more pressure, playing your clit like an instrument. His forehead was about to touch yours, your breathing synching. Your weak attempt to shoot him an angry glare was foiled when his lips suddenly brushed against yours.

Shock rippled through you, almost simultaneously with your climax. Clenching around his fingers repeatedly, you bucked your hips up for more friction, to let that blissful high consume you whole. William’s lips were on yours now, moving against yours timidly and demanding both at the same time. You could feel his tongue dart out to taste your lips, to drink you in like holy water.

Only once you finally took back control over your senses did you realise what was happening. And how part of you did not want either of you to stop. He barely bothered hiding his erection anymore now that he was so close to you.

The tension between you was palpable and for just a brief moment, you did not care that what he was trying to accomplish was to get you to be more obedient and submissive by making you cum all over his fingers day in and out. You did not care that as the Reverend, he was neither medically qualified to do this, nor in the position to kiss you. Perhaps your orgasm had cut off the blood supply to your brain.

You did not object when he cupped himself through his trousers in an attempt to bring some relief to his arousal, tearing them down just far enough for you to catch a glimpse of dark hair. William practically whined, aching for pleasure, aching for… you.

The mere thought of it, as much as you preferred to hate it, made you burn, go up in flames—and you knew that all resistance on your end was gone when you heard him whispering your name once he reluctantly broke the kiss. His erection sprang free when he finally gave his trousers another tug, tearing his underwear right down with them.

This was wrong in so many different ways, was it not? And yet… our body was craving it. And so was his. You spread your legs even further, allowing him to position himself between them and moaning when his tip pressed against your slick entrance.

“Will…” Wherever your gentleness and your desire for this man to treat you like a goddess came from all of a sudden, you did not know either. You were drunk on lust, drunk on the feeling of him inside of you.

Inch by antagonising inch, he pushed inside, claiming you. Your walls clenched around him in joyful anticipation, the sensation of his body joined with yours numbing your ability to think. He retreated then, pulling out almost entirely only to sheathe himself inside again, falling into a steady but tender rhythm.

William cradled you in his arms as he fucked you, his thrusts having you see stars. Unlike what they had told you, it did not hurt. Quite on the contrary—it was the most wonderful encounter you had ever had with a man. You were so incredibly wet the bed sheets underneath you were soaked already, mixing with both your sweat the faster William pounded into you.

More and more eager with every thrust, he was soon rutting into you uncontrollably, driving you further and further towards another mind-bending orgasm. His thumb returned to your clit, teasing it gently all the while hunting his own pleasure.

Close… so close… Your body shattered, fractured into a million tiny pieces. Utter bliss coursed through you, making every inch of your body tingle with lust. William followed you down the abyss only mere moments after.

Thrusting into you one last time, he finally stilled, filling you up with his seed. You studied his face as he came, for once experiencing him without this mask of composure, severity and firmness. Instead, there was softness, nothing but relaxation.

Several seconds passed in which the air was filled with your rapid breathing and the smell of sex. And then, as if ripped from sleep by a nightmare, the Reverend moved away from you.

“Oh my God… this… you…” Unable to form a functioning sentence, you touched your fingers to your lips almost as if you’d still feel him linger there. What had you done? Was this… had this been part of his sick treatment?

“I sinned… I dishonoured you… what have I done…”

“You… what?”

“I ruined you. Who would ever… your brothers will have me arrested for stealing your virginity. It was meant for your future husband, not me. I had no right…” He trailed off, standing abruptly and tucking himself back in.

You sat up, lips parted—your eyes filling with utter rage as you stared him down.

“What?! Have you lost your mind? I am not some prized possession that has now lost its value just because I… most men sleep with many women before they marry. How are they not used up and worthless once they lose their virginity, huh?” You growled, your heart skipping a beat when he spoke your name.

“You don’t understand how serious this is,” he said, ignoring your argument almost entirely. “You could be pregnant. You would bring shame upon your brothers, shame upon the name of your family, shame upon yourself…”

You raised your eyebrows, seemingly unimpressed. “Well guess what, I don’t care. Besides…”

You stopped. Telling him that the elder woman working at the local apothecary provided you with a herb mixture that would prevent pregnancy so you would never have to worry about becoming a mother or a wife or a housewife or all three was probably not the best idea in the current circumstances. This wasn’t about the Reverend’s reputation. It was about owning a woman like she was nothing but cattle.

All of a sudden, you felt the urge to scream at him, to beat some sense into him. Most importantly, however, you felt heartbroken. Had there not been a connection, only seconds ago? And was it at all significant whether it was of pure sexual nature or… more profound?

“This was your mistake. Fix it.” You spat, even though everything inside of you screamed to snuggle up to him and let him hold you in his arms again, a precursor or an aftermath, maybe both, to the incredible sex you had had just now.

“I am fixing it,” William said seriously, looking you straight in the eye. “I am going to marry you.”

-

A/N: Part 3, the final part, is in the works! ;-)

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

[holdmytesseract]

BLURRED LOVE (18+) ǁ EPILOGUE

Will Ransome x fem!Reader

Warnings for the Epilogue: fluff, bit of angst. mentions of pregnancy and birth

Word Count: 1,3k

a/n: With the epilogue, we reached the end of this story. I loved every bit of this! Writing this was SO much fun. I hope you guys had just as much fun, reading it. 😁 A huge thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged and commented! You are the best! 💚 Another huge thank you goes out to @lokisgoodgirl ! She helped me a lot with Blurred Love, gave me wonderful ideas, extra lessons in how to write light smut and wrote a lot of snippets for different scenes, showing me how this scene could go. You are awesome, ily! 😁💚

TAGGING: @lokisgoodgirl @lovingchoices14 @youlightmeupfinn @jennyggggrrr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @lulubelle814 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @wolfsmom1 @michelleleewise @kats72 @sititran @chantsdemarins @d1a2n389 @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss @javagirl328 @kingtwhiddleston @fictive-sl0th

LINK TO SERIES MASTERLIST

 ǀ Five Years Later ǀ

"William!" The call of Arthur's voice ripped the reverend out of his thoughts and brought his head out of the sky, back down to earth. Will had leaned against the wooden gates of his garden, but now he quickly turned around to face Arthur. "And?" He asked impatiently, gazing expectantly at the doctor, who stood a few meters away from him. The blonde-haired man started to smile and nodded. An audible gasp left Will's lips. He was clearly relieved. With quick steps he bridged the distance between him and the other man. "It's a healthy boy." Arthur announced, still smiling, as Will came to stand in front of him - what caused blonde-brown haired to release another happy gasp, a bright smile on his face. "Congratulations, Reverend."

The doctor shook his hand and patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Arthur. Thank you so much. H-How is my wife? I-Is she okay? A-And the baby? C-Can I...?" He stammered, quite a bit overwhelmed by the situation and the happiness flowing through his veins. "Mother and son are doing well. And of course you can see them." The blonde-haired man patted Will once again on the shoulder, before he led the speechless vicar back inside the house. In front of the bedroom, the both men stopped. "I'm going to go now. If there should be any problems with the baby or Y/N should get strong pain – which I don't assume. That’s usually not supposed to happen, but if it does, then you know where you can find me." Will nodded. "Y-Yes, sure. Thanks again, doctor." Arthur gave the reverend another smile. "Make sure that she gets some rest - but you know that already." With another nod of Will, walked the doctor past him and down the stairs. His hand was shaking as he placed it on the door handle and pushed it down, opening the door gently. Carefully he peeked inside the room. Y/N was laying in bed, dressed in her white nightgown. Her hair was messed up; Y/H/C strands sticking to her sweaty forehead. A tired smile played around the corners of her mouth. In her arms, she was holding their new-born son, who was wrapped up in a white blanket. His heart skipped a beat.

"Will..." She whispered and reached out one hand, signalling him to step closer - what he immediately did, of course. Will was still a bit stunned, as he sat down on the wooden chair beside the bed and took his wife's hand in his. But his rigidity flew right out of the window, when his oceanic eyes landed on the tiny human being in Y/N's arms. A cute pink face with pouty lips, a small snub nose, closed eyes and tufts of his mother's Y/H/C hair on the head. The boy looked clearly more like Y/N - yet. Except for the nose and the curls. The nose was without a doubt Will's. His heart skipped several more beats as pure joy and happiness flooded his veins. The reverend leaned down a pressed a longing kiss to the infant's forehead; then moved up to kiss Y/N on the forehead as well. He was so proud of her. "How are you feeling, love?" "Tired, exhausted, sweaty..." Y/N inhaled deeply. "But utterly happy." She added with a soft smile, squeezing Will's hand. "Me too... You should rest now." The woman nodded. "Would you like to hold him?" Another wave of euphoria hit him. "Yes, please. I'd love to." Y/N handed the baby carefully over to his father. Once Will held the tiny boy in his arms, his feelings overwhelmed him again and tears started to form in his eyes. There was nothing more wonderful than to feel the weight of his own flesh and blood; to feel the soft movements and hear the steady, even breathing. It was such a precious moment; a beautiful gift Will wouldn't trade for anything in this world. "He looks so much like you." The reverend whispered; a silent tear of joy rolling down his cheek. "He does." Y/N agreed. "But Charlie doesn't." Her words caused Will to laugh through his tears. "Well, that's quite true. He's just like his father..." She had to giggle as well. "Speaking of him... Where is he? Still out with the other children and Pup?" Will nodded, gently rocking the baby. "He is. I promised him, I'd get him as soon as his sibling is born. Charlie is really excited to meet his brother." "We all were." Y/N smiled up at her husband, who reciprocated the smile immediately. Pleasant silence settled over the couple; both of them looking at the wonder in Will's arms with heart eyes. "How are we going to name him?" Y/N shrugged her shoulders. "I have no idea, darling... We should've thought about that before his birth." He snorted out another laugh. "Indeed, we should have..." Will's eyes drifted once again back to the sleeping infant, memorizing every inch of the tiny, innocent human being; trying to think of a fitting name. "He doesn't look like a Fred, does he?" Y/N shook her head, frowning. "No, I think he doesn't look like a Fred... Perhaps more like a, uh... Frankie?" The reverend's gaze went from his son, to his wife and back. "I like that name, but... My feeling says it's not the right one for this little man." "Not?" He shook his head, "No, somehow not..." and raised one hand to gently cup the boy's small head; thumb brushing through the Y/H/C haired fuzz. With a smile noticed the reverend, how his son cuddled against his touch in search of skin contact. His heart bursted with love and pride.

Will actually never thought of becoming a father twice. Not after getting blessed by Charlie three years ago. He could remember it as clear as daylight, when Y/N told him they were expecting. Will had been ecstatic. To hold Charlie in his hands was the most wonderful experience in his life. After his and Y/N's first child, there were no signs of a second - what had been completely fine for the reverend. If God blessed them with only one child, then so be it, Will thought. His life was perfect, nevertheless. But then, out of nowhere and completely unexpected told him his wife on a Sunday morning, right before mass that she was more than likely pregnant again. Will couldn't believe his luck - and now, about nine months later, he held the sweet surprise, another perfect product of their love - God's gift in his arms. Will smiled. What he had right now, was all he ever wished for and- Wait a minute... God's gift... The reverend's eyes widened. That was it. "Theo!" Y/N's eyes met Will's in confusion; another frown on her beautiful face. "What?" "Theo... The name for our boy." "Theo?" The man nodded. "Yes. Theo means 'God's gift' in, uh, Greek, I believe... And that's what he is... Isn't he?" The woman blinked. "Y-Yes, he is- How do you know that?" Will shrugged his shoulders with a smile. "I once read it in a book." "Of course you read it in a book." She giggled. "What do think, love? Does he look like a Theo?" Y/N cocked her head in a thinking manner; eyes never leaving the infant. "Hmm, yes... Yes, I do think he looks like a Theo. It's a sweet name for a sweet boy." A bright smile spread over Will's face. "Well then... Welcome to the world, little Theo." He said quietly and pressed another lingering kiss on the baby's head, before his eyes locked on his wife again, filled with pure love. "Thank you for giving me another son. You and your body worked so hard. I am so proud of you, of our family. I love you so much." "I love you, too, Will." Y/N smiled lovingly at her husband. "Forever."

[holdmytesseract]

BLURRED LOVE (18+) ǁ CHAPTER FIVE

Will Ransome x fem!Reader

Warnings for this Chapter: light smut/super suggestive smut/smut (nothing too graphic)

Please remember, that this story is rated 18+ !

Word Count: 1,7k

a/n: 🔥

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LINK TO SERIES MASTERLIST ǁ CHAPTER SIX

"Will?" Y/N padded soft-footed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. "Will?" She called his name again. "Over here." Y/N found him in the living room, nose buried in a book. "Have you got time? I would like to talk with you." Y/N asked carefully, not to upset him even more. The man looked up to her, oceanic blues meeting her Y/E/C ones. "Yes." He replied, closing the book and putting it aside. "What's it about?" The young woman bit her lip nervously. She feared that this would cause Will to become even more distant, but she needed to know... Was it her fault? Was it, because she lived here at his expense? Did he wanted her to leave? That thought hit her the most. If that was really Will's intention, she didn't know what to do... Or where to go. She still didn't have her memory back. She knew nothing, was vulnerable and weak. The reverend was all Y/N got at the moment - and she didn't want to lose him.

Will looked at her expectantly, waited for her to speak up. She inhaled deeply and swallowed hard, before she started to talk. "I-I wanted to ask you... Is something wrong?" Will furrowed his brows. "No." "B-But something's got to be wrong... You've been very... d-distant lately. So... Cold and gruff... Did I do something wrong?" The reverend turned his back towards Y/N and squeezed his eyes shut. Of course, he knew what she meant. It had been only a matter of time, until she would notice – and now it happened. He tried... God knows he tried - but failed. He didn't want to hurt her or blame her, he really didn't. But Will saw no other way out. It was her doing. It was her fault. She bewitched his mind, possessed him in every sense. "Will, please... Talk to me. I-I don't want anything to come between us." Will didn't answer, had his back still turned towards her, eyes still closed shut. "Did I do something wrong?" He still didn't answer, clenched his hands into fists. Her kind and innocent words brought him even closer to the edge. He couldn't do this any longer. He was so tired of fighting; his nerves were raw. If he wouldn't walk away now, he was surely going to lose it. So, Will chose the only way out, was about to walk away, when Y/N hit the final blow. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. "Is it... my fault?" And Will broke, shattered into pieces; his temper and his bottled up feelings taking over. "Yes." He spun around to face the young woman, oceanic blue eyes filled with rage and despair staring right at her. "Yes, it is your fault! You caused hell to break loose on me!" Y/N's eyes went wide at the reverend's sudden outburst. "I-I caused hell to break loose on y-you?" She stammered out, clearly shaken. "B-But how? W-What did I do?" Will clenched his jaw. "What you did? What you did?! You bewitched me! Turned my own thoughts against me! I didn't have a quiet night for days - weeks!" Y/N frowned. She didn't understand. "W-What do you mean?" Will closed his eyes for a moment, before he took a few dangerous steps closer to the woman opposite him. "My brain is like fogged, Y/N! I can't think clearly when I am around you! You tempted me!" He paused, took another few steps closer, until he could feel her rapid breath on his face. "All I can think about is you!" To be so close to her fogged Will's mind even more. Once again, the beautiful woman conquered his thoughts. He stared down at her, stood on the very edge of the abyss, ready to fall any second now. Y/N's innocent eyes looked up at Will's. "M-Me? W-What-" She didn't come any further. The strength to fight left Will's body - and he gave in. He launched forwards, lips colliding messily with the oh so kissable ones of Y/N. Her eyes widened in shock in surprise - but suddenly, everything made sense. Will's distanced behaviour. What he just said. The looks he had given her, which lasted that one second too long... She couldn't help but to give in as well. Y/N closed her eyes and melted against Will. Deep down, she always had wanted this to happen. She couldn't deny that. Will was a wonderful man, after all. And maybe, just maybe, she had fallen for the kind vicar.

The kiss Will was giving her, was desperate... Needy... Passionate - and within seconds, it was all teeth and tongue. Y/N felt how Will gripped her waist and pulled, drawing her closer to him, causing her hips to clash against his. A soft moan left her lips on the sudden physical contact. A moan, which sparked the fire inside Will even more. He lifted his hands and let them roam over her delicious, forbidden curves. When he reached the small of her back, he stopped, lingering for just a second longer, until his hands wandered further down, down, down, to the back of her thighs. Without breaking their kiss, hoisted Will Y/N up, urging her on to wrap her legs around his waist, before he spun her around and pressed her against the nearby wall, trapping her in between his body and the cool surface. Will's brain had shut down by now. He acted on his primal instincts and restrained feelings. Feelings he had locked away for way too long.

Y/N buried her hands in Will's blonde-brown locks, gently tugging at the roots as he kissed down her neck. That move caused a wave of pleasure to roll over him. It was just like he dreamed night in and night out. What if this was a dream as well? He hoped it wasn't.

While Will scrambled to lift the woman's dress higher, she tugged on his braces, sliding them down his shoulders, before she ripped a few buttons of his white shirt open. Her hands met his hot skin, causing them both to moan in the kiss they shared. The reverend's head started to spin, when she moved her hands further south to the front of his pants, fumbling to get the zipper undone. Alone the mere touch of her fingertips, skimming the fabric, elicited a deep groan, leaving his lips. After his zipper was undone, everything happened so fast and before his hazy brain could caught up, Y/N send him to heaven.

Will had his forehead rested against Y/N's, panting heavily. He still had her pinned against the wall with her legs wrapped loosely around his waist. Slowly, he came down from his high, his mind starting to become clearer again. She smiled softly at him and captured his lips in a lazy kiss, before she slowly put her feet back onto the ground, but kept her arms entangled around Will's neck. He looked down at the beautiful woman he had just taken against a damn wall - and in that very moment, with that thought crossing his mind, realisation hit him. "Y-Y/N, I-I... I am so sorry, I don't know what happened to me. I just lost control. Please forgive me. I didn't have the right to do-" The reverend scrambled for an apology, while fixing his trousers. The woman shook her head, "Please... Don't apologise, Will.", interrupting him. "I… wanted this, too." She added, voice merely above a whisper. The vicar blinked, couldn't believe what he had just heard. "W-What? You... wanted this, too?" She nodded. "Yes... I didn't know I want it, but as soon as you kissed me, I knew that this was what I was longing for. It felt right." Will swallowed. Could this be true? Or was it still just a dream? "So, you're not angry with me o-or disgusted, or-" Once again, Y/N shook her head, interrupting him again. "No, Will. Certainly not. You are quite an attractive man..." She said, blushing a bit. "R-Really? Thank you." Y/N nodded, biting her lip. "Was that the reason you were so... distant?" Now it was Will's turn to blush. "Yes. Since that day I came into my bedroom and saw you standing completely bare in front of me, my mind ran wild. Every night I dreamed of you... Of your body on mine. I fantasised how it would be to kiss you. To touch you... I-I thought that it was a test, imposed upon me by God. A test to resist the temptation. I-I asked him for help, but..." He shook his head. "I tried to resist and satisfy the pleasure running through my veins, but nothing was good enough... My body wanted your touch... It felt like I had an illness and you were the only medicine that could cure me. I-It drove me crazy." Will's words triggered something inside Y/N. The lust and despair in his voice... The fact that no touch was satisfying enough - except hers. It sparked the flame of desire within her once again. She cocked her head - a lustful, yet compassionate look on her face. "Will..." She started, then lifted her hand to place it on the exposed skin of the reverend's chest, biting her lip. "When was the last time you got touched by a woman?" Only that simple touch and words caused Will to bite back a groan. "W-Way too long... Y-Years..." Y/N let her hand glide slowly down his chest and belly, unbuttoning the remaining buttons on her way. Suddenly, the tension between them was back again; literally cuttable with a knife. Y/N reached the hem of Will's trousers, gripped them firmly and pulled him with her, towards the sofa. A few soft, but passionate kisses were exchanged on the way. When they had reached their destination, Y/N pushed Will down on the soft piece of furniture, before she climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. "Is this what you dreamed of, Will? Is this what you wanted?" She asked, nipping at his neck and letting her fingertips roam over his torso. The reverend was already too far gone to reply anything, so he just nodded and squeezed his eyes shut; relishing in the heavenly touch her hands offered.

It was too late. The poison was running through his veins. He tasted the forbidden fruit - and he wanted more. 

[holdmytesseract]

BLURRED LOVE (18+) ǁ CHAPTER ONE

Will Ransome x fem!Reader

Warnings for this Chapter: none, except injuries and probably typos?

This is not exactly a warning, but… I didn't read the book yet (I'm on it.) and only watched the series, so… ^^ And I'm no expert, so please forgive me the possible mistakes I might have made throughout the story. ^^

Please remember, that this story is rated 18+ and will contain suggestive smut/light smut in future chapters.

Word Count: 1,7k

a/n: Surprise! :D Here is the first chapter of 'Blurred Love' - earlier than I thought, but I'm sure you all don't mind. ;) I am really excited to finally share this story with you! Have fun reading, guys! :D

TAGGING: @lokisgoodgirl @lovingchoices14 @youlightmeupfinn @jennyggggrrr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @lulubelle814 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @wolfsmom1 @kats72 @sititran

If you want to be added to the taglist, please let me know! :D

LINK TO SERIES MASTERLIST ǁ CHAPTER TWO

Aldwinter, Essex, 1882

The rain poured down on the quiet, little village heavily. It was raining pitchforks. The wind howled around the houses, causing the old wood to squeak and ache underneath the force of nature. It became noticeably colder with each passing day. No doubt that Autumn was right around the corner.

William Ransome - vicar of the small village - stood with a piping hot teacup in front of one of the windows and watched the rain fall. Nobody could be seen outside. Sure, why would anybody go out, when such bad weather was raging over Aldwinter? Will took a sip from his tea, watched the raindrops drum against his window pane for another while, before he sighed and moved to sit back down at his wooden desk. The scraping of the chair on the ground caught the attention of the brown Cocker Spaniel, laying on a wool blanket beside the desk. The pup lifted his head and watched his master with sleepy eyes. "Did I wake you, buddy?" Will asked his loyal companion, who just huffed and lowered his head once again. "I am sorry." Will leaned down to scratch the dog's head lovingly, before he returned to finish the preachment for church this Sunday.

Will had been the vicar of Aldwinter for quite a few years by now. He came to love the community with all its people dearly. He had found a place to stay, where he felt at home. The only thing, missing in his perfect life was probably a woman. He often thought about that part. How it would be to come home into the loving arms of a wife. Not to mention to bring a child in this world and raise it together, see it grow... Perhaps even two - or more? Will sighed again, when he noticed that his thoughts had slipped off again. He tried to concentrate and focus on the task ahead, but couldn't. His mind took him constantly to different places and not where he needed it. So, he decided to clear his head. Maybe a walk would help? A look out of the window told the vicar, that the rain had subsided a bit. Certainly not enough to stay dry, but also not enough to become soaking wet. The reverend stood up, closed the bible laying on his desk and went for the door. "Are you joining me?" The question was directed towards the Cocker Spaniel, laying still on the woollen blanket. Pup huffed once again and closed his eyes. "Alright. In that case, I am going to go alone." Will threw a last look at his dog, then left the study. Once he had headed down the stairs and slipped in his boots, Will grabbed his beige-brown coat and left the house. He got immediately greeted by a sharp, cold breeze, brushing his face. The rain wetted his skin and hair the further he walked. But Will didn't care. He needed this. He needed some fresh air.

The vicar had already walked for quite a while; his feet leading him towards the salt marshes - what could be quite dangerous when it rained. Especially for someone, who wasn't familiar with the area. Everything was even mirier and slippery than usually. Not for Will, though. He knew what he did and where to step next. Why his path led him down there, he didn't know - but he was soon to find out...

Just as Will had passed the house of Cracknell - an older man, who liked to stay alone, he let his gaze roam over the exposed muddy grounds of this area of the marsh. The tide was low currently and it wasn't a rate thing, that the flood washed something up, which the low tide now exposed. Will had already seen a lot - but not what caught his eyes this time. The reverend noticed something... unusual in short distance. He stopped in his tracks and squinted his eyes, tried to recognise what it was that he saw. It certainly wasn't an animal or a piece of wood, no... It rather had the shape of... Will's eyes widened. It looked like a body. Alarmed, Will walked cautiously over the wet and muddy underground, until he reached his destination. Already from a few meters away, he could tell that his eyesight hadn't betrayed him. It was, indeed a body. Will's steps were getting bigger and bigger, until he was running. As soon as he reached the body, he fell down on his knees beside it. It was a woman. A strange woman. A woman he had never seen here before. Her clothes and hair were completely drenched and dirty. "Hello?!" No answer, of course. Will's heart thudded wildly against his ribcage, as he turned her gently around and felt for her pulse rate. He certainly wasn't a doctor, but he could tell if a person was still alive - or not. His hopes weren't exactly high with this woman, though. Who knew how long she laid here already? Not to speak how she even got here... Maybe she drowned... He pressed his fingertips to her neck, feeling for a sign of life. Will's heart almost stopped right then and there, when he found her still being alive. Her pulse wasn't the strongest, but no doubt that it was there. He gasped, his eyes widening again. That was nothing less than a wonder. How could she still be alive? Will was certain that she had more than just one guardian angel. Maybe God let him to her... It couldn't be any other way. Without hesitation, Will lifted the woman up in his arms and carried her away from the shore – just in time. The tide was setting in again. She wouldn't have survived another flood. Will was certain of this. He carried the woman as fast as possible towards his house, hurrying quite a bit, 'cause he noticed that the rainfall increased once again. Luckily, Will made it in time. It was quite a bit difficult to open and close doors, when you carry somebody in your arms, but he managed. Will's destination was his bedroom. He couldn't possibly lay her down on his hard sofa, could he? So, he brought her up to his bedroom. As soon as he had made it up the stairs, the vicar was faced with the next challenge... To get rid of the lot of the woman's soaked and dirty clothes - without exposing her. Will wanted to help, but not take a step too far. Therefore, he decided to just take off her corset and skirt, leaving her in her blouse and undergarments. After that was done, Will wrapped her up in the thick blankets to provide her warmth, hoping that she would wake up again. He couldn't do more at the moment, so he went back to his study. Maybe he was now able to finish his preachment.

Will looked after the woman every hour, checking ifs he had woken up or not and if her pulse was still present. The rest of the day and almost the whole night should pass, before the eyelashes of the unknown woman began to flutter. As chance would have it, was Will exact in this moment in the room...

The young woman opened slowly her eyes. She needed quite a moment to adjust. Everything was bright and blurry. Her eyes took slowly in her surroundings, telling her that she was somewhere inside. A room. A house. She could make out the different furniture inside the room, as well as a figure, standing by the window. She blinked, tried to see clearer. It was a man, dressed in a dark blue woollen sweater and beige cord slacks. His hair was a blonde-brown and slightly longer. Who is that? Where am I? Those were the only two questions running through her mind. She opened her mouth, wanted to speak, but found her throat dry. Instead of words leaving her mouth, was it the sound of coughing. This caught the man's attention - of course, causing him to spin around and face her. Big blue oceanic eyes met hers. Without saying a word, the man left, only to return a few seconds later with a glass of water in his hands. He placed it on the bedside table, saw how the woman struggled to sit up. He helped her immediately, then reached for the glass again, offering it her. "Drink, please." The voice of the stranger sounded smooth, almost like velvet and utterly kind. Nevertheless, was the woman quite fearful. She looked suspiciously - anxiously from the glass of water to the man and back. "Please, drink. It's alright. I want to help you. I don't mean to harm you." The man tried to reassure her, underlining his words with a kind smile. The woman saw no other way than to just trust this stranger. After all, it looked like he saved her, right? With shaking hands, she took the glass and downed the crystal-clear liquid. "Better?" He asked. She nodded, then tried another attempt in speaking. "W-Who are you?" The man gave her another sympathetic smile. "I am Reverend William Ransome, but you can call me Will." "A-And where am I?" "You are in a small village near Maldon, called Aldwinter. I found you in the marshes and brought you here." "Aldwinter?" He nodded. "Yes. What's your name?" "Y/N..." Will gave Y/N another soft smile. "Y/N... How are you feeling? Are you in pain?" Will thought it was the best to first make sure that she was alright, before he would ask her where she came from and what she was doing in the marshes. Y/N shifted a bit, then frowned. "M-My head hurts a-and i-it's so c-cold." Will's expression changed into concern. A hurting head couldn't mean something good... It worried him more than the freezing. Actually, it didn't surprise him. When he found her, she was highly reserved. "Do you want me to get a doctor? Head injuries can be quite dangerous..." Will saw how the woman's Y/E/C eyes filled up with tears. "I-I don't know, I-" That was the moment, where he decided to let her rest for now. "It's okay. Rest for now. Call me, if you need anything." She nodded, silent tears running down her face. Will gave her a last polite smile, before he left the room.