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Description
A Nervous Habit

An England x Shy!Reader Lemon

The train came to a stop at the station out in the middle of nowhere and obediently you stepped from the carriage to the platform and removed the ticket from your pocket. Tentatively you let it slip through the barrier with a curious relief to find that it was accepted. Ringing your hands together you took the ticket from the machine and stepped out into the cold autumn air that buffeted the hat upon your head and made your stomach churn. Something about this place seemed to have been taken from a World War II drama, there were few cars and the clothing of everyone present seemed so down to earth that it startled you.

Were you out of place in this rural community? To be honest you had been from the moment the letter had come to you instructing you to come out here. You had not heard from your godfather Mr Kirkland in many years, but to suddenly be told he had passed on and that he’d left specific orders towards your care…. Well he had been a very old fashioned man but his manner and the sounds of the letter had been quite Victorian. Even so, the law was firm on the matters of last wills and you were to remain living in the mansion alongside Mr Kirkland’s only son, Arthur, for six months in order to claim the incredible sum of money.

A taxi was sitting outside the station and tentatively, trying hard not to wring your hands together again; you stepped over and stuttered a request to the driver. The driver was confused by your obvious tension but he shrugged his shoulders and encouraged you into the car. Within ten minutes you were relaxed in the back of the taxi watching the lane of golden leaf trees…. On a hill further up, past a flock of very excitable sheep, was the large stately home that you had once spent hours racing around, hiding from Arthur and his terrible habit of pulling your hair or pinching your arms. Thinking about how he’d been such a bully when you were children, you rubbed at your arms despite how sore they were becoming.

When the taxi pulled up you paid the fare and stepped out with your bags, glad that your father had already dropped off most of your items earlier in the week. Having only needed the one suitcase to carry had eased your fears on the travel, but now a butler stepped to the door and when he asked your name, you nearly fainted. But he smiled warmly at you, encouraged you inside and then insisted you follow him to your side of the house. A great wing of the building was set aside for you complete with a small library, a bathroom, three bedrooms with a master bedroom coated in items the servants had been unsure how to arrange from your luggage, a sitting room with a massive fire place and your own drawing room. It was like having a life-size doll’s house all to yourself and you blushed in delight at such splendour.

After some time sorting yourself out and learning some of the basics of the household with help from the butler, you were led down the stairs to the dining room where you were to sit opposite Arthur, the new lord of the manor. Your whole body shook in fear as you were led down to the seat and when you sat, the harsh judging eyes of Arthur fell heavily upon you. He was much more handsome then he had been in his youth, but at the same time you could sense an aristocratic arrogance seeping from his form and focusing upon you. He was obviously not pleased that you had arrived or that he was to live with you for such a time before parting with a substantial amount of his father’s great fortune.

Your shyness took over and you lowered your head, rubbing your arms nervously as food was presented and you coped with the unfriendly situation by silence. Arthur ignored you through his meal, he did not seem to want conversation at all and you could barely bring yourself to speak lest he snap at you or be cruel. There was so much he could do, so much anger you could feel fizzing in the air that you could not help scratch your arms again. This peeked Arthur’s interest however and as your intense scratching over the dry skin produced a brief smear of blood before dessert, Arthur cleared his throat gently.

“So… you still have your odd little habits then? A lady of this household should never be seen itching or bleeding. It makes you appear to have fleas!” He snorted indignantly and you blanched. Did you really appear so bad? Did he have to be so cruel to you so soon? You felt any confidence falling and took a deep sniff to hold back any tears that might try to escape. Dessert came and you were distracted until your arm began to sting from the scratches and you alerted Arthur’s attention again. This time he sighed, rolled his eyes and then stepped to the mantelpiece. He took a strange tub from the shelf and then approached you, stretching a hand to you. “Give me your arm… father left the cream here with instructions that I use it to stop you from itching yourself!”

Though he seemed weary as he spoke, you felt trust in Arthur at that moment and lifted your bleeding and sore arm to him. The moment his hand clasped around yours and he leant close to you, a firm blush appeared upon your cheeks and you dropped your head in shame. You could tell by the way Arthur’s eyes flickered back and forth, trying to avoid the chance to catching your own eyes, meant he was finding this awkward too. His hands were delicate and gentle upon your arm and you felt a wish to kick yourself for the excitement they caused within you. How dare he make you feel so excited!

When the action was done and a steward stepped over with a bowl of water and towel for Arthur to clean his hands, you continued the meal in silence. Awkwardness sat like a cloud upon the table and as soon as you had finished eating, you stood up and left with only the slightest thank you. With the cream still soothing the soreness of your arms it helped prevent you from scratching, even more so because you felt sickly for Arthur’s rather tender handling of you.

Time went by and you remained in the house more often then you wished. Going into the village meant people stared at you and only your driver would give you company whilst there. For a whole month you only saw Arthur when eating and the pair of you seemed segregated by his choice and your shyness. A melancholy had developed within you as to the life you were now living and the thought of the money seemed pointless compared to months of self-imposed exile. You understood how it must feel trapped on a desert island somewhere – at least to the extent that you were isolated beyond belief. Only the servants talked to you and they did not talk too much.

At the end of the month however there was a rather surprising turn of events as you ended up seeing Arthur more often. Suddenly he seemed to appear in the house more and more, seemingly less confined to his side of the house and you were drawn inexplicably into the rooms he tended to be in. Sharing a room to watch a television program you both enjoyed seemed to occur more often and into the second month you began to share your opinions too. A sort of tolerance seemed to form between you both though there always seemed to be something else on Arthur’s mind that he wished to say… but simply could not.

One evening however you were lead to Arthur’s private study where he was often to be found sitting with his feet up near a fire, in a dressing gown and reading a treasured old book. You were informed to relax and just sit down to listen as Arthur read the book to you. This situation was strange and very unnatural for you both, but the story was one you knew very well. It was a book from around the turn of the century by Elizabeth Gaskell called “North and South” – its theme was romantic on the whole but also discussed the positions of class and locality at the time. It made you painfully aware of the differences between yourself and Arthur, you wondered if he was trying to make this point even clearer to you.

“So what did you think of the story ____? Did it tell you anything or give you knowledge you’d like to share?” Arthur questioned and you looked upon him with fear. Immediately you started to scratch at your wrists and Arthur’s face contorted into a frown. What else could you do? He obviously meant nothing about the romance dividing the social barriers because the circumstances of the characters changed… not it was clear he was making a point that a weed can’t grown into a rose overnight and that you were not welcome here.

“I understand what you mean… I was hoping to stay just one more night and then I would leave. You’re right to think I don’t belong here…” You stated nervously, standing up ready to leave you walked nervously past his chair when suddenly his hand caught your wrist. You turned about in surprise as Arthur stood up and his face was filled with an expression of deepest woe. He pulled you back toward him but you pulled yourself away. Whatever he might say now would only scare you, but still Arthur jerked your sore and itchy hand back and you had no choice but to fall back with your bottom landing firmly on the footstool.

Without any words of explanation Arthur seemed to leap forward and plant his lips upon yours. Suddenly you were in his stretching arms being pulled from the stool onto his lap. Your lips remained lock and you gave moans of surprising enjoyment at the sudden swell of passion within your body and the motions of his tongue against yours. This was definitely something you could not have foreseen and as his hands groped your thigh firmly, filling you with a hot desire to be with him, you quickly jerked your head away with a face so red and hot you appeared almost sunburnt.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this… I don’t understand why I want to continue this… but more and more I’m afraid of what’s going to happen next. If you want me to leave this house then I beg you to let go of me now. But if you want me to stay then…” You blushed firmly, nearly scratching your arms in anxiety again as you pulled a hand to your mouth and bit tentatively at a knuckle. You wanted to crawl away from this all right now… how could he care about a timid little wallflower like you? But somewhere confidence remained enough to push you to speak. “… then show me.”

Within a flash Arthur’s lips were planted firmly on your forehead, kissing around the side of your face as you swooned in surprise. How could your head be so sensitive? Cautiously he kissed along your neck as you gave soft sounds of delight and pinched yourself closer as his lips roamed the top of your chest. You clasped your hands around yourself protectively and Arthur stopped, lifting a hand to stroke at your face before gently whispering to you.

“I won’t rush you into anything… I don’t want you to leave this house ever again and I don’t want to hurt you anymore then I have before. I adore and love you _____, because you have never perceived me as anything but what I am. You understand me and I understand you… but I don’t understand myself and I need you to be there to help me.” Arthur’s warm breath caressed your neck and he remained with his head pressed to yours and his dazzling green eyes closed. You could not believe how strangely comfortable and lovable you felt right then. All your own emotions welled up inside and a realisation as to the reason for your isolation and your loneliness came to the fore. You two were the same and yet not the same; you were so afraid of him because of the respect your held for him and so shy around him for fear of him understanding your affections

You loved him… and despite your nerves you were ready for it to go further and steadily you stepped from his seat and removed your clothes. Your hands were slow, you felt the awareness of your body to every touch, even by your own hands and it scared you a little. Arthur did not lift his head to look at you; he remained patient and somewhat ashamed of himself for his actions of the past few days. With a cautious clearing of your throat, you urge him to look at you now that you were naked and now that your hands covered where you felt most exposed. Immediately Arthur leant in and kissed you firmly on the lips before wrapping his arms around you.

“You’re so very beautiful… whatever makes you so shy?” Arthur’s rhetorical question made you shrug nervously, your body exploding in Goosebumps from the rush of cold air upon your back and his suddenly warm body. Then slowly, Arthur removed his clothing too and unlike you he stood without shame before you, awaiting any judgement you may give him for this moment. There was nothing to say though as you stepped over to him, wrapped your arms about his neck, pressed your soft chest against his boiling one and relaxed in his embrace as your body recognised one another. Gently you pressed your lips to his and slowly he encouraged you down onto the ground.

The soft carpet was warm from the fire in the room and you lay back, staring up into his reassuring eyes as you pinched your thighs together. Gently his hot hands stroked your inner thigh and his warm lips joined yours once more. As he kissed you he lay over you and cautiously you separated your legs for him. Then he sat between you and tentatively your bodies joined one another… slow, steady and thrumming with heat and joy you lay back and let your senses guide and control you. In a gentle rhythm that seemed to last deep into the darker hours, you stayed with him in a delicious heat as your sweltering bodies pressed against one another and your cool lips soothed your rapid breathing. When your lips could no longer come together and your bodies were primed for fireworks, you lent forward to hold Arthur as you came into full understanding with one another….

All thoughts of the money, the house and everything that had troubled you was melted away in an ecstasy shared with a man you adored.

Description
A Nervous Habit

An England x Shy!Reader Lemon

The train came to a stop at the station out in the middle of nowhere and obediently you stepped from the carriage to the platform and removed the ticket from your pocket. Tentatively you let it slip through the barrier with a curious relief to find that it was accepted. Ringing your hands together you took the ticket from the machine and stepped out into the cold autumn air that buffeted the hat upon your head and made your stomach churn. Something about this place seemed to have been taken from a World War II drama, there were few cars and the clothing of everyone present seemed so down to earth that it startled you.

Were you out of place in this rural community? To be honest you had been from the moment the letter had come to you instructing you to come out here. You had not heard from your godfather Mr Kirkland in many years, but to suddenly be told he had passed on and that he’d left specific orders towards your care…. Well he had been a very old fashioned man but his manner and the sounds of the letter had been quite Victorian. Even so, the law was firm on the matters of last wills and you were to remain living in the mansion alongside Mr Kirkland’s only son, Arthur, for six months in order to claim the incredible sum of money.

A taxi was sitting outside the station and tentatively, trying hard not to wring your hands together again; you stepped over and stuttered a request to the driver. The driver was confused by your obvious tension but he shrugged his shoulders and encouraged you into the car. Within ten minutes you were relaxed in the back of the taxi watching the lane of golden leaf trees…. On a hill further up, past a flock of very excitable sheep, was the large stately home that you had once spent hours racing around, hiding from Arthur and his terrible habit of pulling your hair or pinching your arms. Thinking about how he’d been such a bully when you were children, you rubbed at your arms despite how sore they were becoming.

When the taxi pulled up you paid the fare and stepped out with your bags, glad that your father had already dropped off most of your items earlier in the week. Having only needed the one suitcase to carry had eased your fears on the travel, but now a butler stepped to the door and when he asked your name, you nearly fainted. But he smiled warmly at you, encouraged you inside and then insisted you follow him to your side of the house. A great wing of the building was set aside for you complete with a small library, a bathroom, three bedrooms with a master bedroom coated in items the servants had been unsure how to arrange from your luggage, a sitting room with a massive fire place and your own drawing room. It was like having a life-size doll’s house all to yourself and you blushed in delight at such splendour.

After some time sorting yourself out and learning some of the basics of the household with help from the butler, you were led down the stairs to the dining room where you were to sit opposite Arthur, the new lord of the manor. Your whole body shook in fear as you were led down to the seat and when you sat, the harsh judging eyes of Arthur fell heavily upon you. He was much more handsome then he had been in his youth, but at the same time you could sense an aristocratic arrogance seeping from his form and focusing upon you. He was obviously not pleased that you had arrived or that he was to live with you for such a time before parting with a substantial amount of his father’s great fortune.

Your shyness took over and you lowered your head, rubbing your arms nervously as food was presented and you coped with the unfriendly situation by silence. Arthur ignored you through his meal, he did not seem to want conversation at all and you could barely bring yourself to speak lest he snap at you or be cruel. There was so much he could do, so much anger you could feel fizzing in the air that you could not help scratch your arms again. This peeked Arthur’s interest however and as your intense scratching over the dry skin produced a brief smear of blood before dessert, Arthur cleared his throat gently.

“So… you still have your odd little habits then? A lady of this household should never be seen itching or bleeding. It makes you appear to have fleas!” He snorted indignantly and you blanched. Did you really appear so bad? Did he have to be so cruel to you so soon? You felt any confidence falling and took a deep sniff to hold back any tears that might try to escape. Dessert came and you were distracted until your arm began to sting from the scratches and you alerted Arthur’s attention again. This time he sighed, rolled his eyes and then stepped to the mantelpiece. He took a strange tub from the shelf and then approached you, stretching a hand to you. “Give me your arm… father left the cream here with instructions that I use it to stop you from itching yourself!”

Though he seemed weary as he spoke, you felt trust in Arthur at that moment and lifted your bleeding and sore arm to him. The moment his hand clasped around yours and he leant close to you, a firm blush appeared upon your cheeks and you dropped your head in shame. You could tell by the way Arthur’s eyes flickered back and forth, trying to avoid the chance to catching your own eyes, meant he was finding this awkward too. His hands were delicate and gentle upon your arm and you felt a wish to kick yourself for the excitement they caused within you. How dare he make you feel so excited!

When the action was done and a steward stepped over with a bowl of water and towel for Arthur to clean his hands, you continued the meal in silence. Awkwardness sat like a cloud upon the table and as soon as you had finished eating, you stood up and left with only the slightest thank you. With the cream still soothing the soreness of your arms it helped prevent you from scratching, even more so because you felt sickly for Arthur’s rather tender handling of you.

Time went by and you remained in the house more often then you wished. Going into the village meant people stared at you and only your driver would give you company whilst there. For a whole month you only saw Arthur when eating and the pair of you seemed segregated by his choice and your shyness. A melancholy had developed within you as to the life you were now living and the thought of the money seemed pointless compared to months of self-imposed exile. You understood how it must feel trapped on a desert island somewhere – at least to the extent that you were isolated beyond belief. Only the servants talked to you and they did not talk too much.

At the end of the month however there was a rather surprising turn of events as you ended up seeing Arthur more often. Suddenly he seemed to appear in the house more and more, seemingly less confined to his side of the house and you were drawn inexplicably into the rooms he tended to be in. Sharing a room to watch a television program you both enjoyed seemed to occur more often and into the second month you began to share your opinions too. A sort of tolerance seemed to form between you both though there always seemed to be something else on Arthur’s mind that he wished to say… but simply could not.

One evening however you were lead to Arthur’s private study where he was often to be found sitting with his feet up near a fire, in a dressing gown and reading a treasured old book. You were informed to relax and just sit down to listen as Arthur read the book to you. This situation was strange and very unnatural for you both, but the story was one you knew very well. It was a book from around the turn of the century by Elizabeth Gaskell called “North and South” – its theme was romantic on the whole but also discussed the positions of class and locality at the time. It made you painfully aware of the differences between yourself and Arthur, you wondered if he was trying to make this point even clearer to you.

“So what did you think of the story ____? Did it tell you anything or give you knowledge you’d like to share?” Arthur questioned and you looked upon him with fear. Immediately you started to scratch at your wrists and Arthur’s face contorted into a frown. What else could you do? He obviously meant nothing about the romance dividing the social barriers because the circumstances of the characters changed… not it was clear he was making a point that a weed can’t grown into a rose overnight and that you were not welcome here.

“I understand what you mean… I was hoping to stay just one more night and then I would leave. You’re right to think I don’t belong here…” You stated nervously, standing up ready to leave you walked nervously past his chair when suddenly his hand caught your wrist. You turned about in surprise as Arthur stood up and his face was filled with an expression of deepest woe. He pulled you back toward him but you pulled yourself away. Whatever he might say now would only scare you, but still Arthur jerked your sore and itchy hand back and you had no choice but to fall back with your bottom landing firmly on the footstool.

Without any words of explanation Arthur seemed to leap forward and plant his lips upon yours. Suddenly you were in his stretching arms being pulled from the stool onto his lap. Your lips remained lock and you gave moans of surprising enjoyment at the sudden swell of passion within your body and the motions of his tongue against yours. This was definitely something you could not have foreseen and as his hands groped your thigh firmly, filling you with a hot desire to be with him, you quickly jerked your head away with a face so red and hot you appeared almost sunburnt.

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this… I don’t understand why I want to continue this… but more and more I’m afraid of what’s going to happen next. If you want me to leave this house then I beg you to let go of me now. But if you want me to stay then…” You blushed firmly, nearly scratching your arms in anxiety again as you pulled a hand to your mouth and bit tentatively at a knuckle. You wanted to crawl away from this all right now… how could he care about a timid little wallflower like you? But somewhere confidence remained enough to push you to speak. “… then show me.”

Within a flash Arthur’s lips were planted firmly on your forehead, kissing around the side of your face as you swooned in surprise. How could your head be so sensitive? Cautiously he kissed along your neck as you gave soft sounds of delight and pinched yourself closer as his lips roamed the top of your chest. You clasped your hands around yourself protectively and Arthur stopped, lifting a hand to stroke at your face before gently whispering to you.

“I won’t rush you into anything… I don’t want you to leave this house ever again and I don’t want to hurt you anymore then I have before. I adore and love you _____, because you have never perceived me as anything but what I am. You understand me and I understand you… but I don’t understand myself and I need you to be there to help me.” Arthur’s warm breath caressed your neck and he remained with his head pressed to yours and his dazzling green eyes closed. You could not believe how strangely comfortable and lovable you felt right then. All your own emotions welled up inside and a realisation as to the reason for your isolation and your loneliness came to the fore. You two were the same and yet not the same; you were so afraid of him because of the respect your held for him and so shy around him for fear of him understanding your affections

You loved him… and despite your nerves you were ready for it to go further and steadily you stepped from his seat and removed your clothes. Your hands were slow, you felt the awareness of your body to every touch, even by your own hands and it scared you a little. Arthur did not lift his head to look at you; he remained patient and somewhat ashamed of himself for his actions of the past few days. With a cautious clearing of your throat, you urge him to look at you now that you were naked and now that your hands covered where you felt most exposed. Immediately Arthur leant in and kissed you firmly on the lips before wrapping his arms around you.

“You’re so very beautiful… whatever makes you so shy?” Arthur’s rhetorical question made you shrug nervously, your body exploding in Goosebumps from the rush of cold air upon your back and his suddenly warm body. Then slowly, Arthur removed his clothing too and unlike you he stood without shame before you, awaiting any judgement you may give him for this moment. There was nothing to say though as you stepped over to him, wrapped your arms about his neck, pressed your soft chest against his boiling one and relaxed in his embrace as your body recognised one another. Gently you pressed your lips to his and slowly he encouraged you down onto the ground.

The soft carpet was warm from the fire in the room and you lay back, staring up into his reassuring eyes as you pinched your thighs together. Gently his hot hands stroked your inner thigh and his warm lips joined yours once more. As he kissed you he lay over you and cautiously you separated your legs for him. Then he sat between you and tentatively your bodies joined one another… slow, steady and thrumming with heat and joy you lay back and let your senses guide and control you. In a gentle rhythm that seemed to last deep into the darker hours, you stayed with him in a delicious heat as your sweltering bodies pressed against one another and your cool lips soothed your rapid breathing. When your lips could no longer come together and your bodies were primed for fireworks, you lent forward to hold Arthur as you came into full understanding with one another….

All thoughts of the money, the house and everything that had troubled you was melted away in an ecstasy shared with a man you adored.