#i think what bothers me most is that my husband and i were being judged which is why i left and my mil is annoyed just by talking to them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shadesoflsk · 6 months

Text

THE OLD WAY

pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader

summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.

word count: 4k

author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)

MY MASTERLIST

City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.

That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.

With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.

Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day.

But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.

Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance.

So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day.

“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came.

You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever.

He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception.

He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him.

However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.

And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was.

For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.

Oh.

Oh…

The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch.

He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.

However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you?

On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind.

He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.

He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was.

Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.

“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.

“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?”

“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”

He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it.

“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty.

The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.

“You think so?”

“Absolutely.”

Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.

“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”

Leon didn’t think he would get this far.

“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.

“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!”

Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s.

“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.

“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.

Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.

Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water.

“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants.

“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks.

And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.

When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have.

“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body.

“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love.

For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body.

A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.

With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.

For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.

He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.

Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.

Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.

“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”

And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.

“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.

“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for.

“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you.

Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.

And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already.

As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.

Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul.

He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper.

“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you.

A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.

You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.

Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.

At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release.

“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling.

At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment.

For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control.

You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection.

“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy.

“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”

He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck.

“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.

In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air.

“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you.

“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.

He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly.

“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra.

And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy.

“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”

And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.

“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.

“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”

Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.

“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you.

“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.”

Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb.

It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body.

He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to.

“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest. “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.”

He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you.

His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.

“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”

Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.

And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.

“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.

The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste.

You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs.

After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach.

Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.

“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle.

“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”

“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.

With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles.

“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright.

“More than okay.”

He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.

“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”

“Shut up, Leon.”

You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.

💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil

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anabdaniels · 1 year

Text

Cowboytober Day 5- Overstimulation

Paring: Agent Whiskey x Female Reader

Word counting: 1.9k

Rating: 18+

Warning: Brief alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), desk sex, fingering, swearing, use of safeword.

Masterlist

The fact that Jack’s position as the CEO of Statesman Distillery demanded a lot from him always have been clear to you. The thing is: sometimes Jack didn’t know when to stop and put the work aside, and then you decided that it’d be your job to change his mind. Most of the time, just sitting on his lap and demanding his attention was enough for him to forget about the paperwork, but there were those times when that annoying workaholic manner showed up, those times when, after coming back home around 6 pm, he’d easily remain in front of his computer and pile of files until midnight if you didn’t stop him.

Usually, this behavior used to last only for a day or two, and was easy to take Jack out of it, but on that week, it was starting to get unbearable. It started on a Sunday night when he claimed he needed to give a last check on the paperwork for the next Monday, but then, he gave you the same explanation for the following six days, and you were getting done with all that.

Saturday, after a couple of glasses of wine, you decided that your limit had been hit. Being sitting on the couch watching a movie and drinking alone at 5 p.m. on a Saturday, while your husband was locked in his office for the last three hours was almost depressing.

Deciding to put an end to that, you walked through the hallway and entered Jack’s office without even bothering to knock on the door. When he noticed your presence, you were already sitting on the edge of his desk and closing his laptop with not much delicacy. Jack looked at you with a frown, still wearing his reading glasses, and raised one eyebrow while waiting for an explanation.

“We gonna stay on this ‘till when?” you inquired while crossing your arms.

“What are you talking about, honey?” he asked clueless, placing his forearms on the armrests of his chair

“I’m talking about the fact that seems that Statesman is your wife and I’m the third wheel here.” Judging by the silence and the tip of his tongue rubbing on his upper lip, you knew that he got what was the problem.

“Fair enough.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before looking at you again “But, honey, you need to understand…”

“Don’t you dare finish this sentence.” You interrupted him and rolled your eyes “Do we have any unsolved fight that I’m not aware of?”

“No, we don’t.” he sounded confused while answering.

“What’s the matter then? Middle age-crisis? Your testosterone levels are low? Are you banging your secretary? Do you want to divorce? What the fuck is happening to you, Jack?” you narrowed your eyes when he chuckled and shook his head.

“It ain’t nothing of that, sugar.” He assured, still having a smirk on his face.

“So can I have my damn husband back or it’s time for me to go to the sex shop?” Jack couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Your whole problem is just the fact that we’re not having sex?” he asked with that dangerously gorgeous cocky smirk.

“It’s not just that, but this is for sure a considerable part of the problem.” You shrugged.

“C’mere, sugar.” He said while patting one of his thighs and of course, you didn’t flinch before moving and getting mounted on his lap “You’re right, okay? I’ve been an ass with you these last days.” Jack passed his arms around your waist and kissed your collarbone “But I think you can forgive me, right?” he asked while kissing your neck.

“Depends.” You said while leaning your head to the side, letting your neck more exposed to him “What am I gaining for forgiving you?”

“Y’know I’m a fair man, honeybee.” Jack kissed your neck a few times before nibbling your chin and looking at you “I’ll give you exactly what you want.” You wanted so badly to make things more difficult for him, but you never have been able to resist when he looked at you with those puppy eyes, and his hands caressing your thighs for sure didn’t help you to resist.

“Fine, cowboy.” You said while approaching your face, resting your forehead on his “I think I can have mercy on you.”

“I knew my pretty lady wouldn’t be mean to me.” He bit your lower lip softly as his hands finally reached your butt under your dress, making him smile widely with the realization that you had nothing on under it. “You’re getting too naughty, Mrs. Daniels.” You chuckled and passed your arms around his neck.

“Well, why would I bother with panties when my husband wasn’t interested in taking ’em off?” you raised both of your eyebrows and knew you had pushed the right buttons when Jack moved his hand to hold the back of your neck.

“Oh honey, you’ll regret not controlling your pretty mouth.” He didn’t give you time to think and kissed you hungrily, just now realizing how much he had missed and was desperate for you.

Jack had no hesitation while moving his hands to the buttons in the front of your dress and opening them, getting you rid of the fabric in the blink of an eye. You were about to start to work on his shirt too, but he didn’t give you the chance, sitting you on his desk and moving from his chair to kneel between your legs, laying your thighs on his shoulders.

The amount of time without his touch made you even more desperate for him when he started to kiss your inner thighs and, at the very moment his mouth was just a few inches away from your cunt, you already were soaked, needing him more than ever.

“Fuck…” you whimpered with closed eyes and grabbed Jack’s hair when his tongue finally slid through your throbbing core. You were starting to get calmer and used to that sensation, but of course, your husband wouldn’t make things easy for you and his next move was cowardly lick and suck your already swollen and hipper-sensitive clit, giving you no choice but moan audibly and squeeze his head between your thighs.

Most of the time, Jack would take it easy with you, sometimes even making you beg for more, but the situation was a bit different that time. He didn’t give you a second to breathe or try to calm down, eating you relentlessly while his hands caressed your whole body, groping your curves handful. You tried with all your efforts to hold back a little more, not even noticing when your free hand crumpled a few papers that were on the desk, too carried away to care if they were important.

You moaned loudly when finally reached your orgasm, feeling your hips moving involuntarily, and sighing softly when Jack kissed your thigh. Your eyes remained closed, but the sudden touch on your sensitive clit made you open your eyes and look down, just to see Jack’s thumb rubbing your clit while his index and middle finger moved inside you, not allowing you to calm down before making you squirm and moan again. While observing you failing miserably to try to control yourself, Jack pushed everything on his desk to the side, making a few items fall on the floor, and, judging by the noise, you could swear that his laptop was among these items.

Carefully, he leaned you down, laying your torso on the wooden surface without ever interrupting his work between your legs, making you whimper and contort, not surprisingly feeling that it wouldn’t need much more for you to cum again. Jack leaned forward and braced himself in one hand to kiss your neck, aware of the effects it would have on you. The joint of the unfairly precise move of his hand and the delicious scratching of his mustache on your skin became too much in these circumstances and you gave up trying to control your body, just letting go and enjoying the feeling of another climax.

When you felt Jack pulling his fingers out of you, you were sure that now he’d give you a moment to calm down and you couldn’t be more wrong. Before you could even process that the low noise you’ve heard was Jack’s belt being undone and his fly being opened, he already was sliding his cock inside you, making you whimper and breath heavily; you were still unable to calm down the effects of all the previous stimulation and he was giving you more to deal with. With a ton of effort, you propped up on your elbows, looking at him with a pleading expression.

“Jack,” his name was moaned out of your lips “It’s too much.” The smirk on his lips just made you sure that his intention was exactly that.

“You wanted my attention, honeybee, so you’ll have it.” He mocked while passing your legs around his hips “Furthermore,” he caressed your lower lip with his thumb while speaking “I’m pretty sure my beautiful wife can take it.” You couldn’t hold back a defeated chuckle, sucking his thumb in a teasing way.

“You’re a cruel motherfucker.” you said with your breath irregular, making him laugh.

“Maybe I am, but, judging by your state, I’m sure you like it.” He teased, referring to the fact that, once more, you were pathetically turned on and wet.

“You know I do.” You admitted with a smile, giving up on trying to argue with him.

“The answer I expected.” His cocky smile was brighter than ever “Now come here, my love.” Jack grabbed your neck and pulled you to him, sitting you again on the desk and kissing you intensely while starting to slam his hips against you, resulting in you letting out a scandalous moan. He kept one arm around your waist while kissing your neck and whispering the sweetest compliments in this world with a calm tone as if he wasn’t railing you.

His free hand moved to between your legs again, destroying the crumbs of self-control you had recovered. You allowed your body to get filled with that good sensation that was growing on your lower stomach and sank your face into the curve of his neck, passing your arms around him and pulling him closer with your legs, making him let out a hoarse moan. It was the last straw, then, once more, you felt your body succumbing to the orgasm. Jack kept his steady pace, smiling while seeing you starting to move involuntarily even more, getting overwhelmed with everything. You were feeling too much, it was too much. Even loving every piece of that moment and being unmeasurably happy for finally having your husband back, you were too sensitive and overloaded with sensation to bear more of that.

“Yellow.” You mumbled one of the safewords you two have established and Jack promptly stopped everything, looking worried at you.

“You’re okay, sugar?” he asked while making you lift your head and look at him. You nodded softly while regaining your breath and self-control.

“I just need a little break.” You said after a moment, making Jack smirk.

“Oh honey, trust me, you’ll need a few more breaks before we’re done.” He answered in his usual convinced tone and held your face gently between his hands, kissing you softly.

Cowboytober Masterlist

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #agent whiskey #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels #jack whiskey daniels #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #kingsman: the golden circle #pedrostories

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luchicm04 · 2 months

Text

lost in the forest - part 38

Masterlist

Summary: Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Pairing: Senju Tobirama/Original Female Character

Tag: #lost in the forest fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: +5k

Overall warnings: canon-typical violence, adult content, time skips, angst

The office will never feel the same. Discomfort was weighting on her back at the direct gaze of the Senju clan leader; becoming aware of that extra sparkle in his eyes that she previously misinterpreted as friendly is unsettling now noticing the small details that would easily go over her head without her realizing it.

Karen was not the most observant. When it came to romantic matters or suitors, she was the most ignorant of all faced with the possibility of diverting from her profession, family and other plans to spend time on things she thought were unnecessary.

Besides, no one had had the courage to make her see her own luck. Now, she can only sigh... The girl listens and puts any annoying thought in the back of her conscience to concentrate on the real problem, which took her out of that hasty vacation and threw her back to face what she was so agilely ignoring.

Hashirama looks at her... Tobirama stands by her side, while Izuna and Madara calmly state their point of view.

The tension of the political situation favors disregarding the discreet attention of the newlywed man, while Mito prefers to focus on the speaker.

“So, you’re telling me... that you fought over an issue regarding... eyes?” the woman can’t help but mention casually with a frustrated tone of what she thinks is stupid. Judging by the tight expressions on the faces of the two Uchihas, she realizes she has touched a delicate nerve.

Shinobi pride is hard to deal with when she's still oblivious to additional stuff such as clans, techniques, and the like.

It has never been of her business.

“It’s not just eyes,” Madara repeats with a firm frown, crossing his arms indignantly at her summary. “It’s a Doujutsu.”

“It is a Kekkei Genkai; a family technique that both Uchihas and Hyūgas possess,” Tobirama explains, doesn’t whisper, the point where the oldest Uchiha is going with his offended gesture. Karen resists the urge to roll her eyes... No one has bothered to tell her about things so natural to them, like chakra or their magic.

Which makes her give her future husband a different look, one that indicates that she needs a better explanation if she is going to expose herself to more of those atypical qualities of their world. She sighs and faces those involved with the problem. “There weren’t any issues when the contract was put on the table,” Karen comments without being intimidated by the heavy feeling that is beginning to flood the room.

She has already become accustomed to it and must make her point clear about all this.

It was her job! ...This whole thing was almost confirmed and thrown overboard because of... eyes?! It’s absurd, at least from her point of view.

“I know,” Hashirama calmly adds with a professional tone, sitting behind the desk right in the middle of the office that is set up as a neutral place. Things are going to change... there are plans for the future, but the premise is to fix the conflict. “Kekkei Genkai and private techniques of each clan are a matter apart from the alliance. The initial conflict took place when Izuna commented on the Byakugan.”

“My question was valid,” Izuna states with his hard tone.

“You told them to refrain from spying through the walls,” the eldest Senju snorts, tired of going around in circles.

“It’s natural that he would do it. You know what that technique is based on, you have faced them,” Madara defends his brother, making clear a point that they have been discussing for a while based on the tone and look of both clan leaders.

Karen wonders if perhaps talking about this conflict, the use of those Kekkei... whatever-they’re-called will be limited only to helping with missions and internal training in each compound.

She had considered this before and mentioned it in their first negotiations, but pride is a delicate thing and knowing the Hyūgas and their pompous attitude, perhaps they didn’t take it as well as the Uchiha did, which might be a problem that may have exploded before their forced coexistence.

“What do you think?” Tobirama questions, watching her in silence. Hashirama and Madara are discussing in their own way what happened in front of Izuna, outraged by being called a stupid brat by a Hyūga who apparently took his comment personally.

“It’s just... it will be difficult to talk to the Hyūgas,” she sighs thoughtfully. “Unless, of course, I ask for a favor from the Daimyo... he himself recommended them.”

“Must you talk to him?” The second Senju can be heard flat, but there are tints that make him turn with a soft arch. “Really?”

“Yes...” the girl sighs, tapping her chin a little with a different perspective.

“The Hyūga aren’t needed if we’re already here,” Izuna snaps from his spot, apparently paying attention to what she was thinking of doing.

Karen is not intimidated by those red eyes that surround her. The younger Senju is like a statue at her side, not wanting to turn this into something complicated. “They are if it is possible to have the favor of the Daimyo, the lands and more missions from nobles. It is what we had agreed on, not only with the Hyūgas, but with each clan...” Her eyes look at Izuna to end on Madara. “I know that both sides are proud of your techniques, and it was rude to say that.”

“It wasn’t rude... it’s just reality,” Izuna defends himself.

“That’s how you see it, Izuna-san, but the issue here is politics, pride and the fact that this pact is wavering due to a few doubts and words,” the woman accepts, clearly tired of such a long trip and being rushed into this meeting. “I will have to speak again with Shinji-sama, then contact the Hyūga leader to see the details.”

“You don’t have to contact them. Izuna is right; they could spy on us anytime,” Madara clarifies harshly.

“I know it’s a valid doubt. Even now, there are still Senjus and Uchihas who find it difficult to leave aside the path of blood.” Karen remembers what she has experienced since they moved. “But the point here is that it is the future that is at stake. And you have worked together in spite of looking over your shoulder every time.”

“It’s not the same,” Izuna complains.

“Of course it is... What if, instead of a Hyūga being questioned about his spying ability, it had been the other way around?” Karen follows the conversation naturally. “What if they had mentioned something about your techniques or capabilities? ...Wouldn’t you feel upset?”

“They are the ones who came to make a pact, not us,” Madara adds.

The woman is firm. “Thay came because the Daimyo suggested it and because he sees the future in making peace.”

“It’s true, Madara,” Hashirama interrupts what would be a debate between both people. Madara growls but remains silent. “We can’t let this overwhelm us and leave unresolved what would mark our dream forever.”

“I won’t apologize,” Izuna lashes out. “I didn’t tell any lies.”

“I know you didn’t,” Karen rolls her eyes. “But that’s not something you say directly, Izuna-san. If they join, they will have to work with us, side by side. It’s foolish to think otherwise. If I try hard and they join us in the end, I expect more from you as proud Uchihas.”

“It’s not the same,” he repeats.

“Not for you... but you will work together.”

“Preferably not,” Madara complains. “We have a Doujutsu, and although ours is better, I prefer to keep myself and my people out of working with them.”

“Madara... That will be impossible if the dream is fully completed. You will have to work, adapt to the needs and use them in favor of the village.” Karen sees the point in her own argument. It is stupid to think that due to stubbornness and magic powers, she will stay away from this contact without knowing how volatile the future is.

Because she knows it will grow... they will have to adapt and work together.

“I’d rather work with a Nara... or one of the other two... but not a Hyūga,” Madara frowns.

“Then I will cross that bridge,” the woman cuts off any long discussions to look at Hashirama. “I will speak with Hyūga-san myself and then I will speak with Shinji-sama.”

“Will you go?” The elder Senju sounds worried.

“This is delicate, and it must be arranged personally,” the girl accepts firmly. “And if you can’t go, the best option is me, who has been taking care of these matters since Hashirama sent the proposal.”

“I can go. I have time.” He looks a bit uncomfortable sending her. She wonders why. “I can still contact Shinji-sama.”

“No, I have to see him myself since you have things to do, don’t you?” she arches her eyebrow. “I know that the Nara leader will come with the other two in the next few days to see the land.”

“Did Tobi tell you?” Hashirama frowns, ignoring the gaze of those present.

“I told her,” the second Senju admits.

“I see.” The older one remains thoughtful. Madara gives him a petulant gesture that makes him save any comments for afterwards. “Alright. Just... don’t go alone.”

“I shall go with her,” Tobirama adds casually. Karen doesn’t see anything wrong with it, turning to look at Izuna.

“No... I won’t go,” Izuna frowns.

“You caused the problem,” the girl accepts firmly.

“No, he won’t go. He won’t apologize for something that is obvious.”

“Madara-san, it’s an issue that he must solve. You know why; I explained the point before and postponing it doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten it. He threw my work away... so many days of negotiations and dealings,” the woman frowns as well with no lies in her mouth. “So, it’s his payment for wasting our work.”

Izuna opens his mouth and closes it several times.

“He has to take responsibility for his ineptitude and learn more about what it means to be a diplomat.” Karen will not let go so easily of the proper payment for this support that she did not ask for. Madara stays thoughtful for a little longer, analyzing each point.

“Fine... but he won’t apologize.”

“Ni-san!” Izuna complains about the crazy idea that has been declared.

“You made your point, but it’s true. Karen gave a lot for this job. It’s the least you should do besides learning from this,” the eldest Uchiha states, perhaps understanding in a very shinobi way what she said. She doesn’t care. Karen is firm in her position and accepts the help even if it’s not in the way she expects.

“Fine,” reluctantly, the youngest of the infamous Uchiha sighs with dignity. “However, I won’t say anything... nor will I enter the Hyūga compound... now will I regret what I said. The bastards are idiots with a stick up their ass.”

“Not so different from you,” Tobirama adds with a lopsided smile.

“Only from me?” Izuna mockes, taking a tentative step forward. There is silence and if it weren’t for the civilian getting in the middle, it would be a long discussion.

“I’d rather go home, grab some things and leave... okay?” Karen says, taking the initiative to leave at that moment because of the rush.

“Alright.” Tobirama gestures towards Hashirama.

“Okay... the sooner you fix this, the better.” Hashirama looks from afar. “And Karen... sorry for making you come like this.”

Karen thought she couldn’t treat him naturally, but she answered easily with a soft smile. “Oh... no problem. I guess the work doesn’t do itself, right?”

“Still, I’m glad you came... and to see you.”

“Hashirama,” Tobirama scolds from his spot. The elder Senju is firm in what he said and although Karen blinked in understanding, maybe there was something hidden in those words. She ignores them, it is preferable, but she notices Madara’s frustration and Izuna’s morbid curiosity.

“Well... I’ll go visit Mito-san later.” Karen bids farewell turning around without paying attention to what they say behind her back. She walks in the middle of both compounds without talking to Tobirama, who keeps watching her. “Don’t say anything.”

“I said nothing.”

“Just in case,” Karen says. “I’ll go home... will you tell Izuna-san?”

“I will talk with him.”

“Good... you don’t have to escort me,” she sighs, tired of all this and how her day of relaxation was lost because of what she will face. She doesn’t like the idea of talking to Shinji... or Hyūga Hiroshi, but there’s no other choice... the payment for something that was not in her hands.

She doesn’t complain and keeps going. At least she doesn’t have to deal with Hashirama now.

──

Kaori looks at her with those eyes that search for news, she notices it... and wisely ignores it because of the urgency of her mission to recover the contract with the Hyūga clan. She may be a civilian, but Karen understands the weight of going personally to negotiate the commercial agreement that already existed, to convince them that it is still standing and that it will not turn into something else.

The last thing she wants is to return to those days of chaos where war was present.

“Here is your suitcase,” the assistant says, delivering the requested item to the edge of the door with clarity and stealth. And old woman capable of grasping things with so little. “Young Tobirama-sama must have been very sweet,” she sighs with a soft gesture to look at her. “You should not try too hard... alright?”

Karen understands what is not said, but she does not take her out of her error to smile. “I prefer not to talk about it.”

“Oh... well, if you need any tea...”

“It’s fine,” she clarifies before Kaori finishes explaining the benefits of that tea, which she surely won’t like... but she doesn’t have the heart to reject it either. “Is something wrong?”

“Well, I understand that you will wait until you get married, only... maybe I would expect a surprise,” the woman states, keeping quiet about something that she may not mention out loud, such as her age or fertile period, which they clearly avoid. Karen is not very adept at remembering that this could be difficult considering the time they live in.

“Uh... I don’t think so,” she blinks in understanding, deciding not to comment on her insecurities since she supposes the pressure of a son is noticeable even though they don’t have any of that activity with Tobirama. She blushes slightly... she can’t help it at the old woman’s casual idea of having something about it soon.

She sighs painfully.

“Well, I will have the tea ready in a second.” Kaori disappears, leaving her alone. The civilian doesn’t want to imagine what is going through the head of said old woman and then huffs.

“Ready?” Tobirama appears behind her, her heart only skipping a beat at the habit she had to ingrain from living among shinobi. She looks at him without surprise and snorts indignantly.

Obviously, this man is oblivious to the old woman’s conversations.

“You are ready... are you not?” the albino man presses easily.

“Kaori-san wants me to have some tea,” Karen explains casually. “So as not to have any surprises before the wedding.” If it weren’t for the fact that the man is indifferent and quite controlled, it would have been fun to see some kind of embarrassed reaction. “Although I’m sure she’s dying to be a grandmother.”

Tobirama coughs a little more. “Kaori-san has always seen us... I guess it is normal.”

“You know she’ll be expecting something, right?”

“I will not do anything you do not want.”

“I know you won’t...” The girl does see how to solve this problem. She also doesn’t know if they are compatible in that way considering her lack of that magic system that both Tobirama and Hashirama once explained to her. She scratches the back of her neck, seeing the old woman look at them both with a certain joy. “Thanks, Kaori-san.”

“Oh, it is a little hot,” Kaori clarifies and warns her before sipping. “Tobirama-sama.”

“Kaori-san,” the man greets, watching her gently sip her drink. He is silently pressing her but falls silent to drink from his cup.

“Would you like something quick to take with you?” the lady asks helpfully.

“No, we still have our travel rations with us,” Tobirama explains calmly, as professional as he usually is and oblivious to the careful gaze of the older person among them. Karen is slightly amused by how awkward the atmosphere becomes in seconds.

Although it’s her imagination... isn’t it?

“Thanks for the tea.” Karen just hands the cup over to look at her fiancé. “I’m ready.”

“Good. We will be seeing Izuna at the exit of the compound.”

“Did he give you any problems?”

“He is an idiot,” the albino states to look at Kaori. “Farewell.”

“Of course, I will wait for you. And I hope you can get there safely,” the old woman says goodbye with a casual wave. Both Tobirama and her calmly leave the house quietly. Karen wonders why he's taking so long to take her and go quickly to the meeting point.

But maybe, just maybe, he did find what the old woman had implied uncomfortable in some harsher way.

A complicated issue to resolve when it is a facade. The civilian simply sighs and remains silent. “I was serious about it... I will not ask you for something you do not want,” the shinobi clarifies, almost guessing her thoughts.

“You won’t, but you know... your society asks for a lot,” the girl says calmly. “Considering my age.”

The albino doesn’t say anything else. “I do not want children?”

“No?”

“No... It is enough with the ones Hashirama will have.”

Karen would like to ask what exactly he means, understand these words exactly, but she just stays thoughtful for a while. “I... I wanted to, for some time.”

“...”

“But... my world, there were too many people... and too many problems because of the excess of people,” she explains remembering the problems of her birthplace. “It got to a point where I stopped looking... and waiting for the answer to my desire to come to me... However, my life was so fast... it was difficult to stop and see what I was doing.”

“...”

“But I guess that can wait. I don’t want to deal with this right now.”

“So...” Tobirama looks at her strangely, as if this wasn’t what he planned from the beginning.

“Let’s not think about it for now.” Karen cuts off any extra question or comment that could be rooted in this uneasy topic. Children, the future and those things are complicated when she is far from home, from her life, ordinary and without political issues involved.

Tobirama accepts this, only remaining quiet until reaching the spot where Izuna looks between them with a suspicious expression. He falls silent and doesn’t comment anything ironic or sarcastic so as to focus on fixing their problems.

To go and discuss the subject with the Daimyo and then with the Hyūgas.

It is for the best.

For now.

──

The journey is as long as she remembers. The river running beneath her feet is evidence of the change of course she recalls from that trip she made before. Of course, now she is not escorted by Hashirama or Madara in the matter. She sighs... so many things she has been thinking about lately that simply do not let her enjoy the landscape.

“Are you done?” She hears Tobirama’s voice hidden in the valley, telling her he’s watching out for her, but without looking at her. She supposes it’s a mania she hadn’t noticed in the guy, since she hadn’t traveled with him.

“I’m done,” she says before taking a last dip in the clear river to clean off any dirt left. There are some hours left until they reach the large civilian compound, so she has to take her valuable time to get ready, going out barefoot to grab a towel and begin to dry herself.

Karen gets changed quickly, full of adrenaline with the anxiety of being attacked.

They haven’t been, but both Tobirama and Izuna don’t let their guard down, their paranoid anxiety giving off a bit. She watches the noise of nature softly, taking her own dry clothes to put them on cautiously.

“Ready?”

“Yeah... all that’s missing is the main yukata,” she clarifies just as she sees the man emerge from some trees in the background, who looks at her and arches his eyebrow in annoyance. “It’s just the main yukata.” She can guess the reason for his irritation.

“You must be careful... you are in your underwear.”

“It’s a thick yukata, not underwear,” the girl states, beginning to follow her own routine.

Tobirama doesn’t leave the subject aside, turning to look the other way with no gesture on his face. “You have been with us for years. You know what I mean.”

Karen doesn’t comment anything to finish adjusting it. She lifts her hair in a light but elegant hairstyle that Mikami taught her before; each part and each step is complex in its own way to end in a light makeup. Timing is important when she knows the Daimyo waits before going with the Hyūga.

She only hopes the man is not insufferable... but she supposes she can deal with him in her own way, considering that she will soon be getting married and that on the engagement day he wasn’t so insistent, even though he wanted her to drink with him. She doesn’t like the man, but she figures she can use this benefit to the village’s advantage.

What’s more, she hopes also that the Hyūga won’t be so upset and agree to have a meeting with them. Thanks to the Daimyo’s intervention, of course.

“Okay.” The woman turns to face the man who looks at her for a long time. “Did I miss something?”

“No... you did not miss anything,” he snorts, washing away any discomfort and taking her gently. “Izuna has gone ahead.”

“He didn’t wait for us? You should have told me to hurry up,” Karen complains, not at all bothered by the way she was carried. At least she no longer feels like a sack of potatoes like she used to. Tobirama rolls his eyes without any further comment.

Just jumping and making this faster for the simple civilian who, despite the time, never gets used to this.

──

Shinji shows a twisted smile, almost amused to see them present at that meeting that he agreed to have despite not giving advance notice. He looks at her for a long time... it makes her tense, but she doesn’t comment anything just as many of his assistants depart from the main room to leave them alone.

The samurai guards at the gate remain silent as he lets out a light laugh.

“You know... Hiroshi-san was so upset it was funny,” the leader states shamelessly with clear fascination for the comment, making the only woman sitting between the two men in a perfect seiza bow her head. “He is usually too quiet, like all Hyūga... He was too vocal in his complaint. Uchiha-san, you did a number on him.”

Izuna doesn’t answer. Karen sees that despite his stubbornness and lack of diplomacy, he knows that responding reluctantly to a leader like Shinji would be bad for politics, so he simply sighs. “It was not my intention,” he says through gritted teeth.

But Karen won’t point that out.

“So that is why you got my dear Saucedo-san... involved,” he comments petulantly and saccharinely, looking at her with a mischievous gleam. The Daimyo doesn’t drop the subject, but at least he no longer insists that she join the harem, knowing that the man at her right side took away her virtue.

Ironic... Tobirama is silent but looks haughtier for some reason.

“It was not my intention,” the Uchiha repeats, keeping his irritation to himself.

“It never is,” the leader accepts calmly. “Tell me, Saucedo-san... are you willing to deal with this?”

“That is why I came,” the woman explains. “I was the one who carried out the pact with Hashirama, and I am the only one available of the two.”

“Oh, well... it is a shame that this has postponed Senju-san's honeymoon,” Shinji says, assuming things that have not been touched, like the honeymoon of said leader. One that she took, but she silences herself letting the man’s imagination fly slightly. “I imagine that is the reason.”

“Something like that,” she comments clearly taking the lead in this meeting. “He has been reviewing other possible alliances.”

“I heard about it, and I love the idea. Now, the Hyūgas... I can call them to meet with you in the main courtyard.”

“You would do that?”

“Of course, dear... I like the idea of being useful to you in this.” Shinji winked cheekily, making a sign for one of the guards to come closer, whispering things that made him tense up and smile just as amused. “We could still have tea... if you do not mind waiting.”

“Alright.” She stands up with the other two boys.

“It is fine if she comes alone, Senju-san... Uchiha-san, you can wait here,” he declares, stopping any advances from his guards.

“I apologize, sir. My fiancée cannot be alone for so long,” Tobirama casually comments before the amusement of said noble who chuckles freely.

“Do not worry... my intentions are not romantic. Although I keep insisting that it could have been better if she entered my harem, I won’t force her into anything,” the man clarifies, not at all offended by such a comment, though Karen swears she saw the guard move. “Nevertheless, it amuses me to see that you protect her... for a shinobi, your heart is clear.”

Tobirama doesn’t say anything but looks at her lightly.

“It will be alright; I just want to clarify some political points. I know from a very good source that I could help in such matters.” Shinji does not hide his intention to look at her. “If you do not mind being alone with me.”

“No, it is okay. I trust it is just for work purposes,” Karen comments formally. The shinobi sighed lightly.

The man takes the first step. “I am glad to hear that. So, I wish we could talk about this... more in person.”

“Alright.” Karen looks at the men. “I will be back in a moment.”

Tobirama doesn’t look placid, but he accepts the silent order to stay back as she is escorted to a spot amongst the beautiful garden she remembers. There are several samurai deployed throughout this enclosure coincidentally, and she sighs noticing the man’s seriousness.

He gives her a smile. “I really had never seen the infamous White Assassin so in love... I still cannot believe it, and I attended your engagement and Senju-san's wedding,” the man laughs sitting on the other side of that prepared table while she gently takes the other, being helped by said leader.

“He is kind... and loving,” she says, not wanting to lose the thread of the comment. “However, I do not think I was separated from my fiancé just to criticize his character.”

“I like how direct you are.”

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” Shinji sighs to put on a serious face when the tea is already served, and the aroma of the desserts is light. “An assassination attempt has been made in my heir,” he says as if it were nothing abnormal, which makes her blink naturally at the man. “I know this has nothing to do with you, but I have suspicions that the neighboring country has broken our agreement by supporting an internal revolt.”

Karen sees the point. “Then... you need me to see some kind of solution without going to war.”

“Of course,” he chuckles. “I am glad you have the ability to see with so little. I would like for us to look for a solution that favors my position and destroys whoever is behind it.”

“Even if they belong to your family or harem?”

“Your doubts are normal. Usually, there are always these kinds of movements to take power,” he laughs as if were such a funny and twisted story that it doesn’t surprise him. Deep down, maybe he also did the same to take this position over his other brothers.

Ones that she doesn’t know and doesn’t actually care much about, but she assumes that this is a normal occurrence.

“However, they have requested foreign support... a very disturbing one,” Shinji accepts, looking at her. “And I need to have everything in my favor.”

“Well, it will be complicated considering the little information.”

“That I why I will hire your guards.”

“...Will you?”

“The Hyūga clan will respond as soon as I send the message. If you help me with this... in the most subtle way, I will do my best to ensure that there is no negative response from them.”

“So, you do not want them to find out that you hired shinobis.”

“No... I will take advantage of the fact that you came for a political issue. I know that they are both good at their job.”

“Yes.”

“Then...” He shrugs. “As for you, I will put you in some civil meetings which will justify why you are here.”

“I will be a facade for your real request.”

“Precisely.”

“Alright,” Karen accepts, beginning to talk about the details of this special mission, the political issues and other things that they were able to exchange, surprising her with the confidence that said leader has in her to reveal such sensitive matters such as the attempted murder or the coup d’état.

Although Tobirama didn’t like the idea of leaving her behind, it was for the best. He left shadow clones as backup and cover for his real work.

Karen just hopes it turns out well.

A/N: Okay, a short one to say present! As you will see, another political plot will come, where Karen will be involved only for the pleasure of existing (poor thing) Will they fix the situation with the Hyūgas? Will the Daimyo resolve his coup d’état?

She hopes so.

Author-chan out!

PS. Thanks for your likes and comments.

#lost in the forest fic #warring states period #angst #senju tobirama #tobirama x reader #tobirama x oc #ocs #hashirama senju #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto fanfiction #uchiha madara #uchiha izuna #mito uzumaki #luchipuchi's writing

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amysubmits · 1 year

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Hi Amy, I like being spanked as a punishment, it’s not so much sexual as it is about the feeling of being taken care of and held accountable. The closest thing I would describe how I feel when getting a punishment spanking is probably the ddlg dynamic, except I don’t enjoy being treated like a little girl outside of a spanking. And the reason why I would equate how I feel with ddlg is because I like the idea of getting a spanking because I broke a rule, like I forgot to take my medicine, or I didn’t do my homework or I watched too much tv and other things that are bad for me. So being spanked feels like I’m being taken care of. Somehow this feels icky even to me, and I have trouble finding the right words to explain how I feel. I’ve told him I like being spanked and he thinks it’s mainly for sexual reasons. And as soon as I whimper he stops because he thinks I want it to stop or he’s hurting me. Even though I explained to him that spanking is supposed to hurt and it’s ok if I resist a little and cry a little. But he’s expecting someone who’s really turned on when being spanked and my reactions make him come to a full stop every time. How should I explain or phrase this to him so he would understand? Honestly I don’t really understand why I feel this way either and it feels icky to me too that I want to be punished and then comforted like a helpless child

Hey Anon,

Sorry it took me a bit to get to this.

I can recall being in a place sort of similar to where you're at, in that I had a few things that I knew about my D/s desires, but they didn't seem to fit perfectly into any of the dynamic examples that I found online - and that bothered me. A big part of me wished I could find some specific label or even just one other couple who were doing exactly what I thought I wanted and needed. I think I was seeking validation for my feelings and desires, basically.

But, I never really found anyone else who was exactly like me, or another D/s dynamic that was exactly like mine. And I think that's pretty much everyone's experience. I think the labels we use like DD/g or M/s and so on, are just sort of general ideas, so it makes sense for most people to find some elements from some D/s types that they relate to, and others that they don't.

Part of what that means is, you're unlikely to find a specific label or D/s style that you can tell to your husband and have him 100% understand exactly what you want or exactly what you're asking for.

Instead, you're likely to have to do a ton of explaining and discussing. If you haven't done so already, then sharing with him something really similar to what you shared with me here could be a great conversation to start with.

Getting from where you're at, to where you want to be with your mutual understanding of D/s, will likely be a series of conversations rather than just one. Which can be hard if you aren't used to that type of really open communication...or if you have shame or insecurity related to your desires. But, I hope you'll find that it's really well worth the work involved. It can lead to really deep intimacy in the end.

With your use of words like 'icky', it sounds to me like you're struggling with some shame related to your desires. I think that would be a good thing to let him know, so that he can recognize that this is a sensitive topic for you and so that you can both try to proceed with caution.

I think a lot of subs and a lot of kinky people struggle with shame about why they are the way they are, or why they have the kinks that they have, etc. For me, something that helped a lot was making friends within the community here on tumblr. For some reason, it's easier to judge ourselves for our desires than it is other people. Finding a friend who also likes to feel watched over or held accountable by their partner can make it easier to accept that in yourself, sometimes.

I think his hesitance to spank you more or harder makes sense given that he is seeing this as a sexual thing, and you aren't. If he thinks of spanking as something where a sub/bottom would be more of a "pain puppy" who would be going "fuck yeah, hit me harder Daddy!' with a huge smile on her face, then it's understandable why his brain is telling him "This is bad, I should stop!" when you are reacting with whimpers or just don't seem to be having a blast.

It is a really good thing that he is erring on the side of caution rather than risking harming you emotionally or physically. I'd suggest explicitly telling him that you don't want him to stop just because you make a noise or wince or similar. Reassure him that you will use your safeword if you actually want him to stop. Or, if he already knows this but is still choosing to stop, you may discuss with him if he's insecure about if you really want it, or if it's just that he doesn't want it. Not everyone is comfortable with spanking their partner to the point of discomfort or in scenarios that are not sexual. It might be a limit for him, and if that's the case, it's important for you to know that.

I don't think there is really any "perfect wording" to assist with getting someone to understand what you want. I think that focusing on how you're wanting to feel is often a really good thing to cover. A lot of times hesitance about Ds or BDSM activities from the dom or top side comes from not wanting to mistreat us. Which again, is a GOOD thing. Such a good thing to have a partner who has those protective instincts. Anyway - individual people's interests in the exact same acts can vary so much...and sometimes explaining how XYZ makes you feel or how you're wanting to feel, can go a long way to easing fears. For example, someone might worry that spanking their partner might make them feel afraid, abused, worthless. If you instead explain that you think it will make you feel small, watched over and loved - that might make a meaningful difference to their perception of this act. And this is true for so many other aspects of D/s and other kinks as well.

Something else that I'd suggest discussing is how you're interested in trying these things because of how you think they'll make you feel. But sometimes the reality of things feeling different than we thought they would. And so as you explore new experiences, you can discuss how it felt afterwards. That way, you can both keep in the loop about how each thing is actually making you feel, and you can decide whether or not to repeat those experiences as you go. Trying something once doesn't mean you'll have to do it forever if it turns out that it doesn't actually feel the way you wanted it to. Sometimes we only learn what really works for us through trial and error, and that's perfectly fine as long as we just keep in good communication throughout.

My last suggestion would be to include his side of the experience in this conversation. Let him know how it's important to you that he doesn't do anything he is too uncomfortable with. Let him know that you don't want him to feel like a 'bad guy' or like he's mistreating you. Let him know that you want him to keep communicating with you about how these experiences feel for him, too. Let him know that while you have some specific hopes/goals/dreams, that you also want to incorporate his interests/desires/goals/dreams into the dynamic too. Ideally, over time you'll find ways for it to feel like this dynamic meets some of his needs, too.

I hope something in here helped! Best of luck to you. :)

#asks #d/s

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little-mouse-adventures · 2 months

Note

Questions: 1, 12, 22, 38 please ❤

What are three things you'd say shaped you into who you are?

My parents' love of reading, and encouragement to read as much as and whatever we wanted. It was very common for my parents to turn on the evening news to catch the headlines, then just leave it on in case anything interesting came up but both get absorbed in a book. Trips to the library were common occurrences as a kid. If I ran out of my own books to read, my parents always let me know I could read any of theirs, and if I had questions about it (dad read pretty conlang heavy sci-fi, mom read a lot of Nora Roberts with the sex scenes and I was like 9), I could ask them about it. Their logic was "If I was old enough to understand what was happening I was old enough to read the book and could ask questions if I was confused or upset. If I couldn't understand what was happening, I'd likely put the book down, or at least not be bothered by what was happening."

Having been in a relationship with the same person for well over a decade. Interacting with one person, hearing his thoughts, building a life and setting goals with one person for that long does a lot to help shape you. Especially since I started dating him in my mid-teens.

My mother's strong desire to have perfect children. In some ways, it was good, because she pushed me into a lot of skill-based activities, so I have a decent chunk of skill. In other ways... failure at those skills was not allowed, so I have a pretty strong fear of failure and trying new things and not Being the Best. But I'm working on that!

12. What's some good advice you want to share?

Fake it till you make it, baby! Confidence can be learned, and usually by just doing The Thing (sending an email to your boss asking for an exception to a rule, wearing the outfit you like but are scared people will judge you for, etc). Once you've succeeded once or twice, it's easier to do it the next time. And eventually you realize that everyone is making shit up as we go, no one has their ducks all in a row all the time, the most well-put together person you know is also Going Through Some Stuff, and a lot of your worries fade away.

22. Say 3 things about someone you love.

encourages me to be a braver person

keeps me motivated to get a house in the woods

makes really good bbq steaks

*plays an uno reverse card to ask back:* was I thinking of my dad or my husband when I wrote those? :D

38. Fave song at the moment?

It's Four in the Morning by Faron Young. Sometimes you just gotta listen to some oldies, y'know?

#thanks for the ask!

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cryoculus · 1 year

Text

— reparations 01 ⟢

a man walks into a bar— no, smashes his bike into your shop: what do you do?

★ FEATURING; arataki itto x gn!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 5.3k words

★ TAGS; modern au, flower shop au, slow burn, idiots to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, mutual pining, no smut, sfw

★ NOTABLE CHARACTERS; arataki itto, kuki shinobu, thoma, kaedehara kazuha

★ WARNINGS; motorcycle accidents, blood imagery, hospital visits, but nothing too gory or violent

★ MASTERLIST . AO3 ★

“Thank you for your patronage!”

The elderly woman, who’s also your first customer for the day, grins as she receives the bouquet from your grasp. “No, thank you, dear. Your arrangements are always so lovely.”

You managed a soft laugh, the ping of the cash register resounding in the air. “You flatter me too much, Amane-san! I’m just like any other florist out there.”

“Any other florist wouldn’t dare put up shop in this part of town, though,” she chuckles, gentle fingers caressing a patch of baby’s breath rather fondly. “Though you make it much easier to bring flowers to my husband, aren’t you afraid? You know who runs this district, don’t you?”

“Sure do,” you say, tearing off the receipt printed out by the register before handing it to her. “They’re the ones who own this complex after all.”

Amane nods, smile not faltering. “Then you’ll be just fine. Most folks from the city are quick to judge little Arataki’s gang. Bunch of troublemakers, they said, but what they don’t know is that they’re the ones who keep Hanamizaka the way it is… Oh, never mind me! This is just an old lady’s rambling.”

“Not at all.” You shook your head. “I don’t think the, uh, Arataki Gang’s all that bad. At least their secretary isn’t. Oh, here she comes now.”

The chimes on the front door tinkle softly at the entrance of a new customer that you receive with a kind smile. Kuki Shinobu is not your everyday right-hand woman to Hanamizaka’s band of thugs. For someone managing a rather…unorthodox organization, she seems a bit more put-together than you would otherwise assume gangsters should be. When Shinobu walks into your flower shop, she looks like any other straight-laced college student you’ve come across in the city—looking around as if she didn’t drop by every morning.

“Oh, Shi-chan!” Amane gushes. “I didn’t know you were looking after our newcomer here. The boys didn’t cause any trouble, I hope?”

Shinobu sighs. “The last tenant packed his bags and left because they scared away all his customers. I explicitly told them not to bother the next one that tenders a lease with us.” Turning to you, she spares a small smile. “Speaking of which, good morning.”

“Good morning to you, too, Shinobu,” you chirp. “Is it gonna be the usual for today?”

“Yeah. Oh, wait, no. Do you have anything more fragrant? Specifically something that calms the nerves?” she asks, reaching into her backpack to hand you an ornate vase that seems more expensive than it looks. “Our boss has been feeling off-kilter for the past two days, and his mood swings aren’t doing anyone favors.”

“How about you fix her up with some silk flowers, dear?” Amane suggests, gesturing to the bouquet in her hands. “My husband adored them, and we always ordered some seeds from the old flower shop in the city back in the day. I’m sure little Arataki will snap out of it once he gets a whiff of them in that cramped office of his.”

“Does that work for you?” you ask Shinobu, and she nods. “Alright, give me…fifteen minutes to prep, and we’ll be all set!”

This is how your mornings usually turn out.

For a quick backstory: after living in the capital of Inazuma City for the past twenty-four years, you decided to move out of your old childhood home and live independently. It was a decision that neither of your parents were happy to agree with at first, but you managed to meet the conditions they’d set once you graduated from college. Those being: 1.) Have a stable source of income; and 2.) Don’t move too far away.

It took you a couple of months to survey whether a flower shop would flourish in the neighboring district of Hanamizaka. But once you’ve confirmed that the business opportunity was too good to pass up—the elderly living in this area seriously had a green thumb or two—you decided to hunt for a good apartment and commercial space as soon as you could. That’s how you ended up meeting Shinobu, the secretary (or was it deputy?) of the so-called Arataki Gang. Apart from their supposed claim over this district, they also owned a two-floor building that they rented out for extra revenue.

You’ve only heard about the gang in passing during your college days, when one of your friends accidentally waltzed into their territory once. They took his presence as a threat, apparently, and the boss was quick to issue a challenge in the streets of Hanamizaka. Needless to say, the tall tale only made you more curious with the things that go on outside the city. Now here you are, about three weeks into your new lease in a place legally owned by the Arataki Gang.

But…despite all the stories told by Amane and some of your other customers, you haven’t seen any members lingering around. It’s mostly just Shinobu that gives your shop the time of day, and if you did happen to spot anyone that resembles a gangster, they were quick to scat. As if they’d been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

And with all the countless complaints you’ve heard about the boss from Shinobu (“Little Arataki”, as Amane liked to address him), you’re yet to meet the man in the flesh.

It’s not like you want to be introduced to someone who can potentially be a yakuza, but…

“Meow.”

As you clean up the leftover stems on your work table, your tabby, Mikan, hops onto the counter behind you, tail swishing with imminent curiosity. You toss the plastic bag containing the disposed remains of Shinobu’s most recent purchase into the bin, clapping the residue off your hands. When you reach out to scratch under her ears, Mikan purrs out a delightful little sound.

“It’s about time we ate some brunch, yeah?”

The next morning, you open up shop like usual. Checking up on plants that need supplementing, calling in for another order of clay pots (your stock is rapidly depleting), and entertaining orders from customers that step inside the store. The clear glass of the display windows makes it fairly easy to spot anyone that might harbor an interest in all things botanical, so you always manage to greet everyone with a sunny disposition.

Well, almost everyone.

“So when do you plan on telling her again?” Your eye twitches as you put together a very extravagant sweet flower bouquet. “We’ve been friends since freshman year, and you’ve liked her since freshman year. That was, what? Six years ago? And you still haven’t told her?”

Thoma pouts at you. “Hey, you talk like admitting your feelings for someone is a walk in the park.”

“It’s not, but keeping quiet for six years is so uncool, Thoma!”

“Not like I’m trying to be cool,” he mumbles. “Oh, do you have any of those cherry blossom designs, by the way? Do you think they’ll look nice with the bouquet?”

You shoot him one last condescending look before rummaging through the cabinets near the windows. Each level contains different flower-arranging paraphernalia. From scented wrapping paper to customized wicker baskets—everything you need to fashion one creative bouquet to another is readily available; artificial embellishments like the one Thoma wants included.

… if they’re in stock, that is.

“Hate to break it to you, but I forgot someone placed an order that used up all my cherry blossom stems last week,” you sigh. “I think I can get my hands on some new stock later in the day, though. I’ll just have someone deliver it to your place or something… Unless you’re finally going to confess to Ayaka for real. I can definitely improvise if that’s the case.”

Thoma laughs, but the sound is a bit dry. “It’s just a little congratulations for securing a partnership with Watatsumi University. You know how serious she is about her job, right?”

Kamisato Ayaka is, indeed, the overachiever in your old college friend group. After graduation, she was offered a distinguished position in the Faculty of International Relations & Culture—something everyone agreed she deserved and more. You haven’t been able to keep in touch with Ayaka since you moved out of your parents’ house, but Thoma is thankfully here to update you about their goings-on.

“Fine, fine. Just have it delivered,” Thoma tells you, pulling out his wallet only to inevitably frown at it. You heave another sigh. “Uh, put it on my tab for next time?”

“This is a flower shop, not a bar, asshole,” you mumble, and when you return back to the counter, Mikan chooses that exact same moment to pop her head out—mewling in delight when she sees Thoma.

“Oh, Mikan, if only your owner is as kind to me as you are,” he fake-sobs, carrying your cat in his arms as she snuggles into his grasp. Damn traitor. “I promise I’ll pay you once I get this week’s payroll. But I’ll be taking my leave now because you know that being here gives me the jitters.”

Right. The friend that got challenged into a duel by the Arataki Gang? That was Thoma.

Once he steps out of the shop, you sink into your little swiveling chair behind the counter—head tilted listlessly towards the ceiling. The greens growing on your plant hangers are looking a little dull, and you wonder if you should move the rack closer to the windows. But despite your attempt at distracting yourself, the exasperation from Thoma’s inability to be honest eventually catches up to you. Mikan hops onto your lap in the next second, as if sensing your distress, and you run a hand across her orange fur with a sigh.

“When I get a boyfriend, I want him to be as straightforward as a man can get.”

“Mrow.”

“If he ever skirts around his true feelings, I’m never going to accept him.”

“Mrow.”

You let out a soft chuckle, lifting her by the waist as she flashes you a disgruntled look. But before she can let out any mewls in complaint, you pull her closer to your chest with a long breath.

“You’re the only one who gets me, Mikan. Even if you like Thoma more than me sometimes.”

“Meow.”

“...Did you just agree with me?”

“Mrow~”

Half an hour before closing time, your usual delivery boy arrives on the dot to receive the order. Kazuha greets you warmly when he walks into the shop, and of course, Mikan bounds into his arms just like she does with everyone but you, it seems.

“Someone’s looking quite chipper today,” he comments before setting your tabby back onto the floor. “Where am I delivering your package again?”

You hand Kazuha the neatly wrapped bouquet—complete with Thoma’s requested specifications—and check the virtual map of the city from your phone at the same time. “Um, the apartment complex right next to Uyuu Restaurant. I texted you the exact floor and unit.”

“Got it.”

Forgetting that you’re supposed to pay him for his services, you hobble back to the counter to retrieve enough mora to cover the delivery costs. Kazuha thanks you kindly when you hand over the payment, and he drops the money into the cute little fanny pack he wears all the time.

“The app is going to let you know once the delivery is complete as usual,” he tells you, already halfway out of the shop. “Thank you again for trusting our services.”

“I wouldn’t dream of switching couriers at all,” you chuckle.

Kazuha humors you with a soft laugh, but just when you thought he’s going to end the exchange right there—

“Oh, you best be careful, by the way.”

Your brow quirks. “Pardon?”

He sighs, casting a worried look your way. “I heard that the tensions have been a bit high between the Arataki Gang and another organization I’m not familiar with. It seems that the dispute has been stirring things up not just in Hanamizaka, but the capital as well.”

It takes you a moment to fully absorb Kazuha’s words, but when you do, your curiosity only festers. Is that why Shinobu’s boss has been on edge lately? Because of the dispute?

“You don’t need to worry about me,” you reassure him with a smile—picking Mikan off the floor as you set her down on the counter. “I live on the second floor anyways, so there’s no reason to go out unless I need to get some groceries. Or visit my parents.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to be more cautious, right?” Kazuha laughs. “Well, see you soon.”

Closing time isn’t as really as lonely as you thought it would be. Despite Mikan’s indecipherable habits, she often helps clean up because the faster you can take care of things in the shop, the faster she can eat dinner. You don’t blame her for the strange source of motivation, though. If anything, you’re feeling a bit famished yourself, too.

“Hmm… I wonder what I should cook for dinner,” you wonder aloud, resting your chin on top of your broom. “Tonkatsu sounds really neat right now, but it’s kind of a pain to make the batter and everything. Ugh…”

Eventually, you continue sweeping the floor just to get your hands moving. You make sure to check your phone every now and again for some texts from your parents, as well. They did like asking if you’ve already eaten dinner at this hour. But ten minutes into your final clean-up, you notice that Mikan has gone stock-still on the counter—green eyes wide and staring out like she saw a mouse scuttling across the windowsill. You make a puzzled face before glancing over your shoulder, but the only thing that greets your sight is the early evening traffic of Hanamizaka.

“Anything the matter?” you ask, but Mikan doesn’t even mewl in response. Your usually hyperactive tabby is just transfixed on the bustling nightlife in a way you haven’t seen before. But you read somewhere that animals often have bouts of odd silence every now and again, so you decide to brush it off.

Just when you're climbing up the stairwell that leads to your actual apartment, Mikan doesn't follow you even if you’re about to switch off the lights. She remains seated on the counter, tail swaying rhythmically like she’s waiting for something to happen.

“Mikan, come on.” You cross your arms. “Don’t you want dinner?”

What is up with this cat today?

However, the next second, an ear-splitting roar shatters the silence of the evening—cleaving through you like an axe through sturdy bark. The sound rattles you enough that you nearly fall off the stairwell, but when you spot a speck of blinding light in the distance, speeding closer and closer in a way that seems like they have no intention of stopping—

“Mikan!”

You know very well that cats have the most graceful reflexes out there; that Mikan can jump out of the way of imminent danger the moment it strikes. But she’s been by your side for a good few years now, so you guess it’s natural for you to develop a strange maternal instinct, of sorts.

Without putting another thought into it, you sprint off the stairwell and leap in front of the counter. An unknown vehicle smashes through the windows a split second later—sending shrapnels of glass flying everywhere. The screech of an engine makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you squeeze your eyes shut, shielding Mikan as you turn your back towards the commotion. In the back of your mind, it clicks to you that whatever dickhead ran their ride into your shop, they probably ended up destroying the Sumerian dracaenas you put up on display. But you’ll give them an earful for that later.

You only realize your heart is threatening to break out of your ribcage once Mikan starts mewling in your arms—pawing at your shirt. A shuddering sigh flees your lips as you hug her closer to your chest.

“Thank gods you’re alright,” you murmur, patting down her fur.

But the next thing you take notice of is the feel of the warm, evening breeze drifting into the shop. When you turn around to survey the situation, you take note of several things at once: the gaping hole in your shop, the passers-by stopping to take a look, the huge, extensively modified motorcycle lying on its side next to a ruined shelf, and—

“Shit.” You immediately let Mikan hop out of your arms as you shakily stand up—mortified at the crimson liquid pooling beneath the head of an unfamiliar man. Under the fluorescent lighting of your shop, you can safely assume that this is definitely blood.

For a moment, you panic—unsure of the protocol for when a reckless driver crashes his bike into your shop. You can’t exactly yell at him for doing that, since he was obviously out cold. So, the next thing you try to take into account is the state of his motorcycle.

It’s one of those variants with lowered seats and longer handles. The kind that you imagine the local thugs use to show off in groups. And just beneath the single, jewel-encrusted headlight is a golden sigil that slightly resembles a…dragon? A demon? You’re not entirely sure, but you’ve watched enough action movies with Thoma back in the day to know that you should switch off the engine to avoid further casualties.

As you step over the large man lying unconscious on the floor of your shop, you twist the key in the ignition slot, taking it out with a bated breath. You notice that it’s attached to a crocheted plush of a tanuki, and that makes you stare at the man in disbelief.

This time, you’re able to get a better look at him.

It occurs to you a bit too late that the huge motorcycle is just appropriate for a guy that’s both ridiculously tall and has the broadest shoulder-span you’ve ever seen. His shaggy, ivory hair is sprawled all over the place, and some of it’s getting dyed in the bright red of his own blood. Grotesque details aside, he’s wearing nothing but a purple patterned haori— giving you an eyeful of the strange red tattoos inked into his impressive chest. But you have enough decency not to ogle someone who’s passed out, so once you pocketed his keys, you crouch down to lightly pat his face.

“Sir?” you call out. “Are you conscious? I’m going to call an ambulance, okay?”

That seems to make him stir.

He opens his eyes—squinting at the bright lights of the shop. From the way his blood red irises keep drifting in and out of focus, you assume that he definitely has a concussion. But before you can even get up to look for your phone, the reckless driver tugs you back down by the wrist. You cry out in surprise but you’re reflexive enough to plant your palms on the ground before you fall into the man’s chest.

Your breath hitches when you find yourself staring deep into the red of his eyes, and you can’t even flinch away when he raises a large, calloused hand to cup the side of your face.

“You’re so pretty.”

And that's the last thing he says before slumping back to the floor.

You don’t really remember the last time you stepped inside Inazuma General Hospital, but each one only left a bitter taste in your mouth. Today’s visit to the emergency room is no different.

You fidget with your phone—chewing the inside of your cheek as you try not to let the scent of disinfectant get to your nerves. There aren’t a lot of people inside the waiting lounge with you, and you aren’t really in the mood to strike up conversation with anyone at the moment. So it’s just you and the messy haywire of thoughts currently fogging up your brain. You can’t even bring yourself to give Kazuha’s usual 5-star rating once he completed your delivery earlier because you feel that antsy.

To be fair, you’re not really bothered by the prospect of bringing an injured man to receive the medical care he direly needs. Even if he destroyed plants and display cases worth over a hundred thousand mora, you’re not so heartless that you’ll leave him to bleed to death in your shop out of spite. You even left Mikan and your shop in the care of your next-door neighbor out of the urgency to bring that guy to the hospital.

But the thing that’s unnerving you the most right now is…the man’s identity.

On the ambulance ride here, the paramedics managed to procure some ID from a wallet he kept in the trunk of the motorcycle. Lo and behold, you’re finally given a name to the careless prick who gave you a hassle and a half as a present for your first meeting.

Arataki Itto.

You tried not to jump to conclusions at first (maybe this is a different Arataki). But the paramedics seemed familiar enough with the guy that when they loaded him inside the ambulance, you could tell that this might not be the first time they brought this specific person to the hospital under the same degree of injury.

The sound of your name being called from the entrance snaps you out of your musing.

“It’s good that you brought him in as soon as you could,” says one of the doctors that oversaw Arataki’s first aid and treatment. “He seems to have suffered blunt head trauma, and I’m assuming it occurred before Arataki-san crashed into your shop. Is that right? The nurses get the stories mixed up sometimes.”

Blunt head trauma? So he ran your shop over because he was already injured beforehand?

“Y-Yeah,” you stutter. “Um, is he going to be okay?”

He nods. “We’ve administered the medication he requires right now, and he should be out cold for the next few hours. I also had the folks from the front desk reach out to his emergency contact. You’ve done enough, so we’ll be taking Arataki-san’s situation out of your hands now.”

Unable to contain your own curiosity, you decide to ask, “...Does this happen often? You guys seem awfully relaxed about having to deal with a gangster.”

“Oh, once you’ve spent enough time tending to those boys, you’ll come to realize they aren’t as bad as people make them out to be,” the doctor laughs as he goes over the clipboard in his hands. You wonder if he’s talking about the rest of the Arataki Gang. “Arataki-san frequents this hospital a lot—not as a patient, but as a companion. When one of his gang members gets into a violent squabble, he patiently sits in this same waiting room until they’re all patched up.”

The information makes your lips part in equal parts disbelief and admiration. You never would’ve imagined a big, hulking man like him showing an ounce of compassion for the men he’s in charge of. But when you recall how gently he caressed your face earlier—red eyes shining with honest sincerity as he says, You’re so pretty—

“Shinya-sensei,” a nurse calls out from the hall, effectively yanking you back to reality. “Kuki-san just arrived. She wishes to talk to the one who brought Arataki-san in.”

Oh, right. It would make sense for Shinobu to be Arataki’s emergency contact. When Doctor Shinya glances at you for your confirmation, you nod at him and follow the nurse out of the room.

You find Shinobu with a chair pulled up next to an unconscious Arataki’s bed in the emergency wards—staring resentfully into space until she catches wind of your arrival. Her eyes widen with disbelief as she gets back to her feet.

“It’s you,” Shinobu murmurs before groaning into her hands. “Why did it have to be you…?”

You feel a prick of offense at that. “I’m sorry?”

She sighs, and you realize that Shinobu’s backpack is lying at the foot of her chair. Did she rush from school to the hospital immediately after hearing the news?

“No, no. I’m grateful that you brought in our boss,” she explains, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s just that… Gods, Master is going to kill us.”

“Master?”

“It’s nothing!” Shinobu insists, and you startle a little because she’s always been a bit soft-spoken. Right now, she’s the epitome of a stressed college student that has more pressing problems outside of her bachelor’s degree. “Forgive me, my thoughts are just…all over the place. I was consulting some revisions for my thesis when I got the call and—ugh! Why does Itto have to go overboard every. Single. Time?!”

You can see the nurse that came with you scuttling out of the scene when Shinobu starts to complain aloud, and you understand the sentiment. You aren’t sure what to make of the outburst she’s laying off on you at the moment, but you decide not to comment on it. Being a college senior and the deputy for a gang are two very different things. It’s amazing that Shinobu can even handle them both at the same time.

“Hey,” you call out, rubbing a hand on her shoulder. “If you need to sort out your stuff with that thesis of yours, I could always just watch over him for the night.”

Shinobu’s face falls. “What? But your shop got trashed by this guy, right? The nurse told me so.”

“Well, yeah, but Shinobu, you look like you’re about to short-circuit any second,” you point out. “I had my neighbor watch over the shop and my cat earlier, so it shouldn’t be a big deal. Even though someone could rob the cash register and I might end up bankrupt.”

You punctuate the words with an uneasy laugh that makes you realize that you really did just leave your incredibly vulnerable shop in the hands of a neighbor that you haven’t known all that long. Shinobu is quick to pick up on your split-second epiphany though, and fishes out her cell phone from the pocket of her jeans.

“I’ll have some of the boys watch over your place in the meantime,” she sighs, tapping away at the screen. “If someone tries to rob you, they’ll have to answer to the Arataki Gang— What’s so funny?”

You hide your soft chuckles with the back of your hand. “Nothing. It’s just that you’re so quick to do a complete one-eighty degrees. Earlier you’re a lamenting college senior and now you’re back to deputy-of-the-Arataki-Gang mode.”

“It’s important to keep these aspects of my life separate from the other,” Shinobu sighs before bowing in front of you. This shocks you a little, because no one in modern day Inazuma still does that right? “I’m terribly sorry for the inconveniences our boss has caused, and for calling in a favor from you at such short notice. Rest assured, the Arataki Gang will make up for it however we can.”

“Uh…” you draw out dryly, unsure of how you’re supposed to respond. “It’s really not an inconvenience, Shinobu. I’ll be more worried about you if you end up missing deadlines because you had to look after your boss.”

Shinobu rises back to her full height, tears glistening in her eyes. Um…

“Thank you so much,” she nearly sobs, throwing her arms around you in a hug. “I promise I’ll rush back here first thing tomorrow and discuss the reparations with you and our idiot boss.”

You relax into her arms, patting her head affectionately. “Take your time. I won’t go anywhere.”

When Shinobu takes her tearful leave, you end up staring at your impromptu patient with a desolate sigh. True to Doctor Shinya’s words, Arataki is out cold—the only indication that he’s alive being the steady rise and fall of his broad chest. They managed to change him into a loose hospital gown, but you can still see the heavy outline of his tattoos under the thin fabric.

You decide to take a seat in the same chair Shinobu was just having a midlife crisis in earlier, checking your back pocket for your wallet. Thankfully, it was still there, and you can at least afford to buy yourself some convenience store sandwiches and a coffee. Archons know you can’t exactly stomach a full meal after everything that transpired tonight. But you decide to linger for a while longer before heading out to grab something to eat.

The circumference of Arataki’s head is wrapped in a sterile white gauze that makes his hair look more cream-colored than ivory, and you notice that his arm is hooked up to an IV at the other side of his bed. Your forehead creases with how hard you’re thinking about what must’ve happened for him to end up in this state. If Kazuha’s earlier warnings had any real weight to them, you’re willing to wager that it has something to do with his gang’s current disputes. But Doctor Shinya also mentioned that Arataki rarely comes into the hospital as a patient, so why…?

Your phone buzzes in your lap, startling you out of your reverie.

Thoma [21:15]: Got the flowers! Heading over to Ayaka’s rn

You roll your eyes, the dread from your earlier musing immediately dissipating from a single text from Thoma.

Me [21:15]: Confess or ten years bad luck.

Thoma [21:16]:

Me [21:18]: I’m not even trying to make you reblog shit! Just confess!!!!!!!

Thoma [21:19]: Maybe next time 😌

“Ow, fuck.”

Once again, you jolt in surprise when another distraction greets your vision in the form of a very conscious Arataki trying to pull the needle out of his arm. Your eyes widen and you immediately shoot back to your feet, pinning his meaty arms to his sides with your hands. You try not to pay attrention to how the girth of his muscle dwarves your fingers. When the hell did he even wake up?!

“Hm?” Arataki stares at you, just as baffled. “As much as I like a lady that can hold me down, I gotta get outta here, nee-chan. Can’t you help me out or something?”

“Shinobu asked me to watch over you for the night,” you tell him through gritted teeth—not liking how he’s not even struggling to shake off your grip. “So please don’t cause her any more trouble than you already have. Just stay here and let yourself recover like a good little gang boss.”

Arataki’s eyes widen slightly. “Whoa, I’m totally not discovering inappropriate things about myself in the most inappropriate times.”

“Just go back to sleep!” you groan. “If you rip out that IV, I’m calling the nurses.”

“Jeez, alright, alright,” he surrenders, even making a show of lying back down on his pillows. “Who are you anyway? The last time I had a lady fuss over me this much was when I…”

You don’t know why, but the fact that he just forgot who you are kind of stings a little. The realization makes you want to slap yourself. This is the man who ran his bike into your shop. He deserves no form of sulking on your end! Who cares if he forgot that he called you pretty in a post-concussion delirium?!

“Whatever,” you tell him, bringing your hands back to your sides with a huff. “I’m going to grab something to eat. You better not pull an escape act while I’m gone.”

“Nee-chan, the more you discourage me, the more I’m inclined to do it,” Arataki points out as he rests his chin on his free hand. You then notice that he painted his nails stark black. “But fine. Can you bring me some yakisoba bread when you come back though? Oh, and a Pocari, too? Hospital food tastes like ass.”

You gape at him. Is he serious? Is he really this shameless?

“Whatever!” you repeat more firmly before stepping out of the ward—not caring how many times Arataki calls out for you.

It wasn’t obvious at the time, but if you intended to lead a quiet, independent life, the last thing you should’ve done is to get involved with the Oni King of Hanamizaka.

★ UPDATE SCHED; every thurs & sat (12 nn gmt+8)

#genshin impact #genshin #arataki itto #arataki itto x reader #arataki itto fluff #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin scenarios #arataki itto genshin #cryoculus #reparations

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fumblingmusings · 1 year

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is evelyn as casual about sex as arthur or have societys views on women and sexuality had an impact on her? I'd guess that even if she herself wasn't bothered on a moral level she'd still have to worry about the general publics opinion in a way that arthur never really would.

Oh lordy this is so long apologies, also this gets explicit, so minors dni please.

I 100% agree with what you say! She is absolutely not casual about sex, but not because she herself is prudish. It's not a concrete headcanon I have, but I do picture most, if not all nations, are bisexual, and many have very fluid understandings of relationships. Some are monogamous, but boy is it hard to be with a romantic partner for hundreds of years with no end. Some will hop from partner to partner with no strings attached, other do genuinely love and adore their partners, and just like with humans, these relations come to a close, and they move on. One relationship may not be more true or real than the other, it's just different. If that makes sense.

My female England doesn't have a particularly high sex drive; she's just old and maybe even somewhere on the ace spectrum, I dunno, haven't quite made my mind up. Romantic? Oh for sure! Sexual? Only if the former is involved.

Problem is, she is extremely frightened of being judged, and extremely bad at being emotionally vulnerable. Humans are not worth getting emotionally attached to because they all die eventually, and no nation wants her because well... She's England. She doesn't want casual, but that doesn't mean she resents those that do. Just...not her cup of tea. So she'll sit, being the perfect case study for some freak Victorian doctor claiming hysteria and her womb being out of balance or some such nonsense.

There's this one quote which always makes me chuckle which was written in the late 16th century. It's exact phrasing shifts and is probably incorrectly cited as much online quotes are, but essentially:

"other nations have a saying that "England is a paradise for women, a prison for servants, and a hell or purgatory for horses," for the females have great liberty and are almost like masters, whilst the poor horses are worked very hard."

England as seen by foreigners in the days of Elizabeth and James the First (this phrase of England being a paradise for women pops up a fair bit, however their definition of paradise is not... mine).

Now don't get me wrong, English women's lives were shit for most of existence. They were just... less shit, or shit in different way, than some other countries.Like, in the fic I offhandedly mention that Matthew at one point could have and would have had the legal right to throw his mother into hospital and is in partial control of her finances along with Alasdair and Rhys. Which... is a wee bit fucked. Especially in terms of - mother country exerting control and influence over colony versus son exerting financial control over unmarried mother. It's a weird combo.

I think she's very conscious of how others would view her, but she herself is not bothered by what people get up to. She's too bloody old to be a prude. We are getting to how she feels about the utter lack of sex life she's had for... a few hundred years at this point. I am conscious that in the fic she hasn't had a single thought about sex. She will be getting some. Honest. Nearly there....

The problem with wanting to be a mother is, for so much of history, it has a certain requirement to meet first, one that a nation can't exactly meet unless in very particular circumstances: she doesn't have a husband. So she is super careful in the stories she constructs to excuse the kids presence by her side, whether that be a dead husband at sea, or little bastard children that her brothers' brought back who she oh so charitably raises as her own. That comes with its own baggage however, so they don't keep that one for very long.

In the chapter involving Alfred and Matthew in New England, she's incredibly frightened of being seen as a single mother of two as there is no father, and it's partly to save herself the ostracism, as well as to protect French Catholic Matthew, that she refuses to stay in a Puritan area.

She lives in a quiet part of England, and rarely has meaningful interactions with her people in a face to face capacity, and I think this comes from a very acute fear of judgement. In all manner of things, not just her sexuality. It's one of the reasons why she is so lonely.

Matthew, Alfred, Jack, Francis, her brothers etc. will all sleep with humans. I wonder if perhaps female nations feel - for most of history - that they have to stick with other nations? At the very least, this is what England feels, as she wants permanence too, but of course she is lacking in the romantic nation on equal standing to her who actually wants to sleep with her criteria for pretty much the 17th century onwards.

Her wealth and implied social standing protect her a certain amount, and the shift from claiming that the children are her biological children to her wards/aunt as time passes and the kids get older also reflects an increasingly intolerant society. The Victorian shift to wholesome prudishness partly came about as a backlash from how loose the Georgian period had been - specifically reflected in how messy George III's family was versus Victoria and Albert's. The Victorian's were also extraordinarily kinky, but it came with such shame too.

When you go back and look at any parish baptism register post the 1530s, even for the smallest parish, baseborn and natural children are not infrequent in the slightest. Church court depositions and then later quarter sessions are riddled with court cases of dad's not paying the child support they owe to the mother of their child, as are accusations of unfulfilled promises of marriages after a couple have sex but then the bloke moves on with someone else. I suppose you can argue that the frequency of events does not make them accepted, and it's also a question of how many of these babies were the result of genuine passion and not women being exploited, but I think it's worthwhile noting that women having sex was common enough that women would and could frequently take men to ecclesiastical courts about it. At one point in time, up to a quarter of English women getting married were already pregnant and pre and early Norman conquest it wasn't unusual for couples to co-habit before marriage etc., so... they be bonking.

Sorry. That was crude.

From a purely ecclesiastical, slightly deranged viewpoint, sex is for procreation, right (I mean it's not but you'll hear this argument often)? And... I'm not mad when remembering that one canon strip where it's implied that Francis potentially impregnated some one night stands of his, right...? And I don't want to go down rabbit holes of nations as spirits and their reproductive organs but... female nations don't get pregnant and they don't give birth. So why have sex? For the pleasure? Sinful! For the emotional connection? Get married first! Etc. etc. It's a giant trap. And England knows that. So she keeps to herself as much as she can, choosing loneliness over vulnerability, and using the kids as a vehicle to experience at least get one part of that human existence. I think this is why, say around post 1960, things get a lot easier for many nations in the West.

She never gives two hoots what anyone else is up to, their business, not hers. It's only if say... I don't know, one of her kids gets caught with their pants down and it makes their lives difficult in whatever home they are staying in, then she would have some choice words about discreetness. She's just trying to make their lives as painless as possible, but it does mean she seemingly permits or buys into toxic viewpoints, rather than challenge them. Too much like hard-work, too risky.

From her point of view though, she's been around when woman were flogged for sleeping around, or the man had the right to murder the other man for sleeping with his wife, or during the Commonwealth, men and women were potentially put to death if they were caught committing adultery, or go to prison simply for having sex period! That kind of punishment is not easily forgotten, that association of sex only permissible in certain scenarios is ingrained in odd ways, even if she doesn't actually believe it to be true.

One thing I haven't touched on, and I just don't want to, is any female nation (and male too) associating sex with violence. Darker fics can tackle the subject. England has been threatened with it, by humans, maybe even to the point of actual assault, but I want to avoid nations contributing such a thing to each other.

One thing I truly don't know enough about would be to compare England's understanding of sex and sexuality versus Ireland's. I've written previously about how I like to think of a female Ireland being a bit more free when it comes to gender restrictions, as England is and was far more likely to conform to expectations of what it is to be a good woman and mother (and wife) and with that comes sexuality, however Ireland's (deserved or otherwise) reputation regarding women and children out of wedlock and the Catholic Church etc. etc. is not exactly something I can confidently talk on. I'd like to think that Ireland though is much happier to form relationships with her people, much happier to live amongst them, not above and separate like her sister, which results in having sex from time to time.

This is way too long. I'll stop now.

England is absolutely going to get the D in two chapters fear not fear not.

#q&a #how long is too long #...that's what she said #hws england #fem!england #op #headcanon #fanfic ask

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survey--s · 1 year

Text

609.

The last time you were in the fridge, what were you looking for? Iced coffee.

Do you like clowns? Nope. I'm not terrified of them or anything but they really do freak me out.

Have you answered all of these questions honestly so far? I mean, there have been two questions lol.

What’s the third text in your inbox? It's from Mike saying he needs new tyres on his car.

Are you listening to anything at the moment? I have Two and a Half Men on in the background and I can hear my own typing, the dryer and the dog snoring.

Do you twitch when you’re falling asleep? Yeah, all the time.

Are your dishes in the dishwasher clean or dirty? We don't own a dishwasher.

Are you at home or with friends more often? Home.

When is the last time you were on a bicycle? About six years ago.

What have you eaten today? Two slices of toast and a donut.

Would you date someone 15 years older than you? No, probably not.

Do you own a strapless bra? I'm sure I have one somewhere, yeah.

Does the person you like know it? Yes.

Did anything brighten up your day today? It was nice to have a lie in, but otherwise it's just been a pretty normal day so far. I slept in, had breakfast, walked the dog, bumped into Suzanne and Charlie, showered, did two loads of laundry, went to the shops, fed the animals and now I'm doing this.

How are you feeling at this exact moment? Kinda hungry, but otherwise I'm absolutely fine.

Are you someone who worries too often? Not so much anymore.

If you could date somebody who would it be? My husband, lol.

Do you ever wonder how other people see you? Sure, I know people judge me when I'm walking Archie and he's stressing out about other dogs.

What is one good thing you’re known for? Ironically, how good I am with other dogs haha.

How about one bad thing? I have no idea.

Are you taller than most? Most what? Most women, yes. Most people in general? No, I don't think so.

When was the last time you sang an ENTIRE song? Today in the shower.

Are you the type of person who likes to be out or home? I like both. I find being at home really relaxing and I recharge the best that way, but I can't spend too long indoors without getting out - otherwise I get cabin fever.

What time do you normally go to bed? 11 pm - 1 am.

What is one thing that is currently bothering you? Nothing in particular, to be honest.

What did you do today? Oh, I kind of answered this already lol. I slept in until about 8.30am, did a load of laundry, vacuumed, had breakfast, walked the dog, came home, showered, did another load of laundry, went grocery shopping and fed the animals - now I'm doing this and watching TV.

Do you consider yourself to be attractive? I think I'm pretty average looking.

What was the last thing that you drank? Pepsi Max.

Is anything annoying you now? Not right this second, no.

Has anyone ever said i love you to you and not meant it? Yeah.

Do you regret going out with the last person you did? No.

Do you realise it when you curse? No, not always.

When was the last time you showered? About three hours ago when I got back from walking the dog.

Who did you last talk to in person? Suzanne.

Do you ever have days where you just don’t do anything? I always do SOMETHING, but yeah, I do have some properly lazy days at times, lol.

Have you ever been extremely tired but refused to go to sleep? Yes.

What is your favorite episode of True Life, if you have one at all? I've never seen it.

Have you ever experienced something paranormal? Nope, I don't really believe in that stuff.

What’s the longest amount of time you’ve been stuck in traffic? About 3-4 hours.

Best field trip experience? When we went to Paris for a week.

Have you ever been to New York City? Nope.

If so, is it all its cracked up to be? ...

What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? Personally, about £30 per head but my dad once took Mike and I to a restaurant that was about £300 per person, not including alcohol.

What museums have you visited, if any? Too many to name. I was always dragged around museums as a kid.

Have you ever had a group project and one of your partners bailed on you? Sure, all the time. It's why I've always hated stuff like that.

What’s your worst travelling experience? Getting scammed in France I guess, but it was no big deal in the grand scheme of things.

Sims 1, 2, or 3? Why? The first one, I guess because it's what I grew up with along with all the expansion packs.

Have you ever dealt with noisy neighbors or roommates? How did that go? Sure, but that's what happens when you live in terraced housing or apartments. You just deal with it.

Who was (or is) the teacher that gave you the hardest time in school? Probably my senior school tutor.

Best muffin you’ve ever had? I love a freshly baked blueberry muffin.

Have you ever taken a woodshop class? Yeah, we had to for a while in school.

How much time do you spend on Facebook, if you have one? I'm logged into it all the time but I only really check it when I have a notification or want to upload something.

What area of math are you best at? Worst? I'm not good at any kind of maths, lol.

How do you feel when you meet someone with the same music taste as you? I love it - most people I meet haven't heard of the stuff I like, ha.

What is the strangest thing you’ve ever seen outside of your house? I honestly have no idea. The girl over the road from us walks her ferret sometimes, that's pretty weird.

Do you believe in luck? Why or why not? I mean, I think sometimes people get lucky, sure, but I don't think it happens for any particular reason.

How often do you “half-ass” things (put little effort in)? God, all the time hahah.

Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? Sometimes, yeah. I don't pick messy foods if I'm out in public as I'm pretty much guaranteed to spill it down my front LOL.

Has a teacher ever made you hate yourself/your work? Ohh yes.

How reliable is your internet connection? Generally it's fine but it has been going on/off a bit lately for some reason.

Have you ever missed a meeting/event that was required/necessary? Yeah, sure.

What’s something that makes you incredibly nervous? Phone calls with people I don't know.

What’s the latest you’ve ever stayed up to finish homework/a project? I pulled multiple all-nighters at university.

If you don’t have glasses, how would you feel if you had to get them? I've been wearing glasses since I was seven years old.

If you do have glasses, how would you feel if you didn’t need them anymore? That would be AMAZING. Unfortunately, my prescription is too complicated for laser eye surgery so I'm just gonna have to live with them for now.

How many vegetarians do you know? Probably quite a few, but I don't really go around asking people things like that.

Have you ever considered going to art school? Nope.

Is there anyone in your life who consistently angers you? No. I don't really spend time with anyone like that.

How quickly can you write an essay? Depends on the subject and how long the essay has to be.

Have you ever had problems falling asleep in class? Nope. I've never understood how people can do that.

Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? Yeah, a few times.

If you have a job, who is your least favorite coworker/manager? I'm self-employed.

Favorite episode of Spongebob? I couldn't pick a particular favourite. I like the ones with Squidward as the main focus.

Do you have any silly/odd emotional connections to anything/anyone? Sure, don't most people?

Are your parents supportive of you? They most certainly are.

How often do you take the train to go places? Never. Around here, it's MUCH quicker and cheaper to drive.

Do you play with your phone in awkward situations? I do when I'm like, waiting for an appointment or for a friend to come back from the toilet or something, but I try not to do it in company as it's pretty rude.

#survey #surveys

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markwatkinsconsumerguide · 1 year

Text

Consumer Guide / No.122 / writer Julie Burchill with Mark Watkins.

MW: What are you doing at the moment?

JB: I’m preparing for the one-night-stand on Brighton Pier on September 22nd of my play (written with my husband Daniel Raven) AWFUL PEOPLE. It was an unexpected sell-out during the Brighton Fringe festival and I’m delighted to be bringing it to the most gorgeous and, yes, ICONIC (I hate that word!) place in Brighton. There are a few tickets left - and I’ll be buying the drinks if anyone fancies it.

MW: What newspapers / magazines do you read?

JB: I’m lucky enough to write regularly for the only magazine / website I love - the Spectator and Spiked.

Julie Burchill, Author at The Spectator

Julie Burchill, Author at spiked (spiked-online.com)

If I buy a newspaper, it will be the Daily Mail, which I also write for. It’s arrogant, but accurate, to say that the newspapers which have sacked me have no merit - otherwise they wouldn’t have sacked me. Apart from Tomiwa Owolade and Gareth Roberts, I’m still the best hack around.

MW: Thoughts on two media moguls Robert Maxwell (RIP) and Rupert Murdoch...

JB: Those were the days! When I wrote my smutty novel 'Ambition' in 1989 these two were mythical figures, though my anti-hero Tobias Pope was a kinky sex fiend, which these two weren’t though Maxwell put it about a bit.

I was once in a lift with Mr Murdoch at my London home-from-home, One Aldwych hotel - my friend nudged me and said ‘Ask him if he wants to buy the Modern Review!’ I was too shy but I did notice that his shirt cuffs were frayed, which I found appealing. He looked like a worker, not a ponce. I worked for him lots at the Times and Sunday Times back in the twentieth century but never for Maxwell, who was obviously a bad man - evil, not good-bad.

MW: Were newspapers ever rock & roll?

JB: Wherever I went I brought a reckless air with me - I was always attracting libel cases and getting sacked for being bad on Twitter. At the NME we could openly take drugs in the office - at a newspaper you’d never do that but it didn’t really matter as - when I started in Fleet Street in 1984 - the drinking culture was still so strong. You’d get taken out by your handler and the lunches would last five hours! When the move to Docklands took place that all changed but it didn’t bother me - I haven’t worked in an actual office since I was a teenager.

I’m not sure if newspapers have a future, so I was tremendously fortunate to be young and restless during the 80s and 90s, when there was so much money washing about - I remember getting a mortgage on a huge three-bedroomed flat in Bloomsbury when I was 24, just on the basis of writing one column a week for the Mail On Sunday. Try doing that now!

MW: Why did the Modern Review ultimately fail?

JB: It was a victim of its own success - the first editor of the Sunday Times Culture section was quite open about basing it on the Modern Review and now you see that intellectual evaluation of popular culture everywhere. It was inevitable, as popular culture is so vital, but no one does it as well as me and Toby and the best of our writers did. All the broadsheets have the stink of the swot about their popular culture writers.

MW: Why do you think it seems that so many people still HATE rather than LOVE Margaret Thatcher, even though she died ten years ago (2013)? Will history eventually judge her (any) differently?

JB: Interestingly, I was in a very studenty, Left-wing part of Brighton yesterday - the North Laines - and I was amazed to see badges and T-shirts with her image on - no nasty words, just pop-art images of her looking attractive. I was quite shocked!

I think history won’t judge her as harshly as we did at the time; even I, who found her fascinating, never voted for her because of my tribal attachment to the unions (my dad was a shop steward) and the miners (he was also a Communist.) There are so many lying, insincere politicians around now that I think her honesty seems exotic and admirable.

MW: How do you think WOKENESS came about in society and do you think it's a phase or here to stay?

JB: The privileged wanted to find a way to hold onto that privilege and realised that those groups which had been oppressed now stood a chance as society became more meritocratic, during the prime ministership of Wilson and then of Thatcher; women, the proletariat, people from ethnic minority backgrounds. Thus they grabbed themselves oppressed identities (trans, non-binary, neuro-diverse) so that they could hold onto their privilege and stop the rise of the meritocracy by creating new categories which could now demand representation.

But the Woke ultimately hold the seeds of their own destruction because they simply aren’t very smart. They want more than anything to be ‘creative’ but they can’t create. The Roisin Murphy moment was a turning point - the first time a witch-hunted artist not famous on the scale of a Rowling or Gervais has done better, not worse, after the attempted ‘cancelling’ by the pitch-forkers.

MW: Bristol or Brighton?

JB: I left Bristol when I was 17 and I’ve been in Brighton for nearly 30 years, so Brighton, obviously. They share the same Wokeness but there’s a loucheness in Brighton which can’t be conquered. Nothing beats the Bristol accent, though!

MW: Your current Top 3, "Girls On Film", and why they impress you…

JB: There aren’t any modern actresses I like except Jodie Comer - they’re generally so wet and woke. I love the swashbuckling sex bombs of the past - Taylor and Gardner and Bardot. And I’m writing (with Daniel again) a play about Marilyn Monroe for next year’s Brighton Fringe.

MW: The first record/s you ever bought? More recently?

JB: "Band Of Gold" by Freda Payne at 11. Such good taste so young! Recently, I like Santigold who I discovered far later than everyone else - she’s so clever. Black female singers have been the constant in my cultural life.

MW: What books have you read the most times?

JB: 'Brighton Rock' (Graham Greene), 'The Gorse Trilogy' (Patrick Hamilton), 'Cold Comfort Farm' (Stella Gibbons)…all of them just the most perfect prose, which when I was young me feel awestruck and determined at the same time.

In recent years, 'A Ladder To The Sky' by John Boyne - just a perfect, thrilling novel. I was so surprised and excited that he recently changed his views on the trans nonsense! But I loved him anyway, even when he was on the other side.

MW: Your autobiography is called 'I Knew I Was Right', give an example when that's been true (borne out) in the year to date...(personal & professional)...

JB: Personally, I always knew I’d get married more than once - I always dreamt of getting divorced, not of getting married, when I was a little girl.

Professionally, I knew that I’d be a great writer - and that I’d be unpopular. I’m very happy with the outcome of both; I decided when I was very young that the conventional life was not one for me, and when I observe my respectable friends, it’s with horror rather than envy.

MW: In your first novel, 'Ambition', Susan Street is " the first truly modern heroine of the blockbuster". 'Ambition' is voyeuristic in content, descriptively detailed and so more than a "quick lick!" When writing it, how did you balance having an original plot with good (or bad!) sex? In the light of shade, well 50, are there any comparisons to be made between the two books?

JB: The main difference would be that I’m a very good writer and E.L James is very poor.

The secondary difference would be that she’s very rich and I’ve blown several fortunes on philanthropy and having fun. Though I would hate to be known for my work being used as an alibi with which men can attempt to get away with murdering women during sex - the ‘Fifty Shades defence’ - I was until recently a little envious of her wealth - and then I had to review her new novel for the Spectator. I can honestly swear that no riches on earth could compensate me for being such an atrocious writer.

Besides, I wrote 'Ambition' when I was young and beautiful - I find something a bit sad about people writing dirty books in middle- or old age; they seem a bit unhinged, somehow.

Smut is a young person's game if it’s to be carried off with style.

MW: Do you still have ambition?

JB: Just to keep writing well - it’s all I’ve ever wanted, since I was a child.

MW: What comes to mind when you look back on this FACE?

JB : How tremendously lucky I was to come from a working-class home with no books in the house, no university education, no contacts - because only under these circumstances could I be sure that sheer talent alone took me as far as I’ve gone. Though people who benefit from nepotism appear to be lucky, THEY’LL NEVER REALLY KNOW if they could have made it through merit. Doing so gives a person a superhuman level of bulletproof confidence as it’s so rare. For a working-class woman to earn a handsome living from writing for decades? I bet you could count us on the fingers on one hand in each generation.

As for losing my looks, it feels extremely pleasing - from the age of 12, when grown men started bothering me, it feels like I had some sort of sex-target painted on my back. But it was great being good-looking as well as clever.

I’ve had enough fun, love and money for nine lifetimes - how could I ever complain!

Julie Burchill (@BoozeAndFagz) / X (twitter.com)

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alsjeblieft-zeg · 2 years

Text

155 of 2023

Random Secrets from Others 3! [True or False]

Created by joybucket

Here is another survey of random people's secrets that I've found on the Internet. Put an X by the secrets that you share, and elaborate if you wish. Have fun! :)

I hate scrapbooking. The only thing I haven't told my therapist is that I honestly wish we could be best friends. I'm the happiest I have been in a very long time. I judge everyone. I feel closer to God on psychedelic drugs. I put my college diploma in the back of my closet, because it makes me feel like a failure. I have fantasies about someone else who is not my husband! Sometimes I daydream about how great my life would be if I weren't with my husband. I never thought I'd love heroin more than my son... I lied about how I got those bruises. Most people make me wish I were alone. My therapist doesn't know all of my secrets. I'm completely wasting my life in front of a screen, and I can't stop. 🖥 💻 📱 I hate that I have to have a guy in order to feel whole. I was going to break up with you the night you proposed. I still wonder if I made the right choice. 💍 I am sorry I slept with your husband. I did not love my daughters equally. I think less of people who ask me how I tried to kill myself. I'm in a relationship with a violent alcoholic. Trying to get out. Snorting coke is my guilty pleasure. Christmas lights make me HAPPY! 🎄 It bothers me every single day that my father has never said "I love you" to me. I promise I will say it to my kids every day. I don't have a mother to go to. She's never known how to be a mother. My arms are covered in scars.... ....you'd be surprised how little people notice. I'm more in love with a certain celebrity than I am with my husband. I used to know what life was, and I loved it. ...Since I started smoking pot, nothing feels real anymore. My partner doesn't know I like pot. After I took three bottles of pills, I changed my mind. I'm glad my suicide attempt failed. My family doesn't love me. Starting meds is the most empowering thing I have ever done. 💊 I thought the surgery would make me feel beautiful...now my body is foreign to me, and I still feel deformed. I survived a suicide attempt. I keep tabs on my racist via social media. Sometimes I think it would be easier to tell people I was gay than bisexual. I'm getting my degree in the wrong major. I'm too afraid to say "I love you" to a certain person out loud. I'm glad my suicide attempt failed. I never thought I'd feel this way again. 😊 I have spent the last year trying to stay out of the mental hospital. I don't hurt myself anymore. To the girl I was then: I forgive you. Not a day goes by that I don't think about calling in sick. Poverty is making me lose my faith in God. I've never been more confused about my sexual identity. I hate being a redhead. I'm so scared that I will never find the place that feels like home. Ⓜ️&Ⓜ️'s are my heroin. The only man who ever loved me back has a wife and a daughter he named after me. I'll never live up to the person I pretend to be on Facebook. I have mastered the art of faking happiness. I don't want to ever carry a child, because I'm useless without meds. One day I'll get the nerve to tell my Christian family... I have a bad feeling that if I ever got superpowers, I'd end up more of a supervillain than a superhero. 🦹‍♀️ The light has gone out on my life. My cellphone is a graveyard of failed relationships. I can't believe how badly I once wanted this thing that I now hate. I was raped by a "friend," and I still haven't told anybody. I was molested. I prefer to be depressed rather than be ok, because I feel comforted in my own depression, and it's kind of like a security blanket for me. I have a fear that I have something mentally not right, and I'm too afraid to get it looked at, and that bothers me. I haven't told my parents that I was diagnosed with depression, because I don't want to worry them. I feel like therapy will never help me. I feel like I wear a mask, and I haven't really revealed my true self yet. I'm afraid of making mistakes. ....and I'm really hard on myself when I make a mistake. I recently found out that my dad was not my real dad. It's hard to keep going every single day. I act like being adopted doesn't bother me, but I miss my biological parents every single day, even though I don't know them. I married my husband just because I was pregnant, and I wasn't actually in love with him. I don't really wanna do anything in life. I have no sense of direction. I wish I'd never gotten any tattoos. I've liked guys my entire life, but recently I've been getting crushes on girls. Sometimes I wonder if there is a God. I'm not really sure where I'll be in a year from now. I've never been in love before, and I'm scared that I'll never be able to love anyone. I've been trying to get over someone, and I don't know how to let him go. I struggle with a binge eating disorder, and I haven't told anyone because I'm embarrassed and don't know how to get help. I always tell my friends they have to love themselves, but actually, I don't love myself either. I have yet to be convinced by myself or by others that my life or my passions have any value whatsoever. I was raped and got pregnant. I wish I'd never had the abortion. I wish I could fake my death to see how my friends would truly react. It's devastating knowing that I will never be a kid again. I'm scared of the question, "Are you ok?" because I'm not. I wish people would love me the way I love them. I think I'm trans, but I'm too scared to come out to anyone other than myself. I miss myself. I don't know where I am. I wish I had more time to enjoy my life. I feel like a robot sometimes. I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. My mom values the way I look more than she values me as a person. I feel the need to please my parents, even if it means harming myself mentally. I didn't think I'd live this long, but I'm happy I stuck it out. I don't like how I look. I've never been kissed. I'm ashamed to ask for help. I think I want to end the relationship, but I'm afraid to be single. I was disappointed when I found out my dad didn't have cancer. I'm finally proud of myself and know my worth for the first time in years. I'm happy. I think I made the wrong decision on what I want to do with my life.

#survey #bolding survey #themed survey

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greg-montgomery · 2 years

Note

i love the angst in your last blurb! what if hotch and reader get in a fight and she threatens to leave him because he’s being arrogant and he breaks down and says something along the lines of “no please, i can’t lose you too. i just put myself back together after haley. you put me back together.”

coming to you with angst <3 like requested! (thank you i'm glad you liked it!!) - also this has a happy ending ofc!! <33

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You were sitting across your husband, enjoying the homemade dinner you had spent on your entire afternoon perfecting; trying to make it just how he liked.

Being the one who cooked dinner was a habit by now since he was never home.

At least this time he’s actually eating it, you thought. Because that Friday had been the first day of that week you ate together. It had most likely been the first day of that week the two of you had managed to spend more than ten minutes with each other uninterrupted.

You knew your thoughts were bitter and it hurt you to think that way about the man you loved, but you couldn’t help them from coming.

You missed him. You wanted him there with you. You wanted to kiss him and talk to him; to laugh with him and make love with him. You missed your Aaron.

So were you really that paranoid to wonder if he missed you too? Shouldn’t he have already asked you to sit on his lap and spend the rest of the dinner there, like you used to? You were dying to bury your face into his neck, but as it seemed all he cared about was the nicely cooked chicken he had in front of him.

“So there’s this new Spider-Man movie and Jack has been talking my ear off all day about it,” you laughed, trying to break the ice you weren’t sure Aaron had even noticed existed between the two of you.

He didn’t say anything in return. You could tell he was lost deep in his thoughts. Probably in thoughts about the case he had just returned from.

You understood, you really did. You couldn’t even imagine what his eyes had seen that day. But you were there for him. He used to talk to you about it.

“So I thought we could go to the movies tomorrow and you know, have a fun Saturday night,” you continued with a smile.

“Who are you going with?” he finally lifted his head to look at you.

“Us,” you laughed in confusion, blinking at him.

He frowned and didn’t even need to say his next words for you to understand what they would be.

You sighed heavily, and he knew he didn’t need to say anything further.

“Jack has been really excited about it. You know he won’t enjoy it if you’re not with us.”

He exhaled through his nose; a clear sign that your words bothered him. “Don’t you think I would if I could?”

“He didn’t even get to see you at all today,” you said.

“I kissed him goodnight when I came home,” he tried to justify himself.

“You know it’s not the same.”

He stared at you coldly. “I’m not judging you,” you tried to defend yourself.

“You are,” he said. “I’m doing my best. I know it’s not enough for you, but I’m trying.”

“Enough…for me?”

“You know what I mean.”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You were a person who could say things out of anger that you didn’t mean, so taking a moment to think before you spoke was something you tried to follow in your life.

“Aaron, I don’t think it’s a secret that we haven’t been at our best lately.”

“We’re fine.”

“No we’re not! I miss you. Jack misses you. And if you miss us too, you’re doing a hell of a good job hiding it,” your voice broke as you were finishing your sentence.

He lowered his gaze so you couldn’t see his eyes and you hated it.

“Well do you?”

“Do I what?” he asked.

“Miss us.”

“Of course I do,” he raised his voice.

“Then start acting like it, Aaron,” you replied in a similar tone. “Or I swear to God, I don’t know what’s gonna happen.”

“What’s gonna happen?” he asked with his eyebrow raised. “Are you gonna leave me like Haley did?” The arrogance in his voice, his certainty that you wouldn’t do it – a fact that any other day would have made you happy - made your blood boil.

“Maybe I will.”

So much for thinking before speaking.

Silence fell between you, both of you trying to absorb the words you had just said.

Aaron’s eyes were staring into yours with so much intensity you could feel them burn you. A few seconds later you saw those beautiful eyes of his that you so adored filled with tears.

“You’d do that?” he asked you, sounding completely heartbroken. “You’d leave us?”

“Aaron no,” you stood up immediately and walked towards his side of the table. “No, I didn’t mean that.”

His large hand covered his face, trying to hide the fact that he was crying.

“Baby…” you whispered, and moved closer, taking his hand in yours, making him uncover his face. You kissed his palm and took a seat in his lap. “Look at me,” you said.

He did like you said. “Please don’t leave me,” he sobbed, breaking your heart. “I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll make more time for you. I promise, please don’t leave.”

“I won’t, baby. I won’t,” you said, but you weren’t sure he could really listen.

“Please don’t leave,” he said again. “You’re the love of my life. I thought life was over after Haley, but you put me back together. You saved me. I can’t do life without you, my love.”

You wrapped your arms around him and let him cry in your embrace. You knew that whatever you were to say at that moment, he wouldn’t be able to hear.

You kissed the top of his head, simply whispering to him that “it’s okay”.

“I’m sorry,” he said one last time, before lifting his head to look at you. His face was completely covered in tears and you were surprised how you weren’t crying too.

“It’s okay, honey,” you told him softly, cupping his cheek with your hand. “I love you. And I’m not leaving. Ever. I just miss you.”

“I miss you, too. So much. I missed this,” he said, trying to pull you closer, even though it was not physically possible.

“Why haven’t you been talking to me?” you asked carefully. “I used to know your every thought.”

“I didn’t wanna burden you with such heavy topics. You’re not my therapist,”’ he replied, running his hand up and down your thigh.

“No, I’m your partner. And I’m here for you Aaron. I don’t want you to pull away from me.”

“You’re right,” he sighed.

“I want all of you. The good and the bad, remember?”

He smiled and you felt such a relief being in the presence of a sight like that. “Yes,” he said. “I’m sorry for making you think I don’t miss you. All day, what keeps me going is the thought that I get to hold you in my arms as we sleep. And when we sleep apart, I look at this picture the three of us took last Christmas to help me sleep peacefully.”

You felt yourself tear up at his words. “Baby, I’m so sorry too for accusing you. Of course I know you love us. And we love you too. So, so much.”

You sat there in his arms and you comforted each other in a way only the two of you knew.

“What’s the name of that Spider-Man movie? I’ll book us tickets,” he said and you grinned, reaching out for your phone.

send me aaron thoughts <33

#aaron hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch 🪐#ask

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solomons-finest-rum · 3 years

Note

oh my god i loved that fic with Cyril! can I have a request? what about Alfie's wife being with him on some charity party where Tommy and Grace are as well and Grave is mean to Alfie's wife? 🤭

"Caravaggio" — (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader)

SUMMARY — The mysterious and elusive Mrs. Solomons finally makes a public appearance. Safe to say, her and Grace Shelby won't be best friends.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you so so so much for this request, Anon!!! ❤️❤️❤️ I hope I did it justice!

WORD COUNT — 756

Masterlist

It would be useless to pretend the orchestra did not stumble in their repertoire when you and Alfie made your grand entrance. Fortunately, they were playing modern jazz standards and not the classics, otherwise that could have been awkward for the hostess. You already knew from the rumours just how much of a perfectionist Grace Shelby was.

“Yeah, remind me again why the fuck did I even bother?” Alfie grumbled as you both made your way through the crowd to greet your host.

Everyone got out of your way. One glance at your husband made people nervous enough.

“’Cause this is London, sweetheart, an’ he can’t be roamin’ the city, makin’ his deals without your say so,” you said and sneered at the old lady who was eyeing your neckline with the look of pure horror on her face.

“Scandalous!” said her friend and you sighed heavily.

“Already bored?” Alfie grinned at your reaction.

“Be serious, my love…” You took his arm when he offered and made sure to stop in the most inconvenient spot in the room just so everyone had to walk around you two.

“When am I not?!” Alfie scoffed.

You smiled at the waiter and a glass of champagne practically materialized in your hand two seconds later.

“Yeah, none of that from ya tonight,” Alfie barked. “You’re here as my wife, yeah?”

“And as your wife, do I have to be bored to tears everywhere I go?”

“Behave.”

Just as Alfie said that, you noticed another commotion in the ballroom and suddenly Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Shelby approached you. You hid your sneer by downing your champagne glass in one go and noticed that Alfie’s entire demeanour already turned all businesslike.

“Hello, Alfie.” Tommy Shelby said and nodded at you in a way that you could have considered dismissive had you not known that even Tommy Shelby knew better than to insult the woman who was crazy enough to be Mrs. Solomons.

Such reason, however, could not have been applied to Mrs. Shelby. Smiling at you coldly, she said:

“And you must be Mrs. Solomons. How surprising.”

You sighed and handed the passing waiter your empty glass, immediately snatching another. You could already feel how tense Alfie became at Grace’s comment and you gave her one last chance to get out of the situation unscathed.

In her arrogance, she didn’t take it.

“I just meant,” Grace said, the cold and elegant smile still plastered on her face, “I just meant, I’ve never seen you before on any events.”

The implication was clear. The pure and royal Grace Shelby still did not understand the rules of the game. She considered all the people her husband was in business with to be dirty scoundrels born in a ditch. Hell, judging by your first impression of her, you wouldn’t be surprised if she hadn’t thought the same of Tommy.

You hummed to yourself and nodded, then looked around the room and finally pointed to one of the paintings:

“That a Caravaggio?” You left Alfie’s side to admire the painting up close.

“Uh… Yes. I think so,” Grace’s voice faltered a bit.

You could tell she wasn’t prepared for you to not have taken her bait. In the meantime, you expected your husbands to start a conversation about… Well, anything really, but they didn’t. Tommy lit a cigarette and Alfie leaned on his cane, watching you like a hawk.

“Bloody hell, how’d you get your hands on a Caravaggio, Mr. Shelby?” You turned to Tommy and smiled charmingly.

Tommy was silent and you could tell he was trying to read you, and was probably doing a way better job than his wife ever could.

“My, my, Mrs. Solomons, I must say… Your necklace is spectacular,” Grace said then, trying to change the subject.

“Don’t get attached, darling, it’s one of a kind.” You turned away to admire the painting some more.

The truth was, you didn’t give two shits about art and the piece was probably not Caravaggio at all, but it was nice to know that Grace was equal to you in every aspect. While only one of you was properly educated, you both knew next to nothing about art.

“I just meant…”

“Oh, I know what you meant.” You gave her another dazzling smile and secretly revelled in the way Grace was now shooting daggers at you. “We should leave our husbands to business, don’t you think? Now, Mrs. Shelby, let’s get acquainted, I’m simply dying to know… What are your thoughts on Vermeer?”

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy x reader #request #requests open #reqs open #imagine

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anythingwriter · 3 years

Text

The Doe Eyed Woman

Thomas Shelby x reader

Warnings: Nothing really, just swearing and my bad writing:)

Requested by: anonymous

Word count: 1,923 of pure trash

Summary: Grace doesn’t understand why Tommy won’t give her the time of the day, but when she sees a beautiful doe eyed woman comforting Tommy she’s even more confused. So she decides to ask Harry who the mysteriously beautiful woman is.

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

Grace was having a hard time figuring out Thomas Shelby. She thought he was going to be easy to seduce, what more could he want? She was a beautiful woman who seemed to care about him. So why wouldn’t he even spare her a glance?

She had been working at the Garrison for weeks now, always making sure to push up her breast a little more than normal and look at Tommy like she wanted to pounce him when he walked through the doors, but when she was only receiving hungry and lustful stares from his brother John, she gave up. Was she not trying hard enough? Or was she trying too hard?

One day she dolled up extra nice, wearing a beautiful emerald dress, enough to catch eyes but nothing too extra. She was probably the only color Small Heath had to offer.

Walking into the Garrison that morning she knew it was going to be a busy day, judging by the line of men waiting outside the doors. Some of which she recognized from being regulars.

“Good morning Grace!”

“Mornin’ Mr.Harris,” she gave him the nicest smile she could, knowing he brought in a majority of Harry’s funds.

She went into the back after bidding Harry a good day, and put away her coat and such. She checked herself in the mirror, making sure everything was perfect before going to the bar and getting ready for business.

****************Time Skip***************

Later in the afternoon it had surprisingly calmed down, Grace was just refilling a glass here and there, having small talk with Harry, but then her moment of peace was broken.

Everyone could hear the yelling from outside, no doubt the Shelby brothers had gotten into something. The yells were full of harsh words and they were steadily getting louder, meaning they were coming closer.

Most the people in the bar decided to leave now while they could, not ready to face the wrath of the angry brothers. It was very clear they were not having a good day.

While the shouts were getting increasingly louder and more men scurried out, Grace double checked herself in the mirror, undoing a button or two from the top of her dress.

The three brothers and even their Aunt Polly stormed in, they all had fire behind their eyes. Tommy was looking the most pissed between the four of them. Maybe now was her chance to comfort him.

She looked up at him through her lashes, “would you like some whiskey, Mr.Shelby?”

He gave her a brief glance before nodding his head, and walked back towards the private booth.

Grace frowned a little, maybe today wasn’t her day after all. Surely he would break soon though, right? After all he was Thomas Shelby, he was a very closed off man. Just a little bit longer and she was sure he would break.

The rest of the Shelbys/Grays decided to follow Tommy’s lead into the back, all nodding to Grace to let her know they would like whiskey as well. As they were all entering the private booth, John was the last one in. Before he shut the door he turned and looked at Grace with a knowing look on his face, “nice dress, really matches your eyes love,” and winked before shutting the door. Grace blushed profusely, why wouldn’t Tommy compliment her?

After grabbing the whiskeys and heading towards the booth Grace heard the door to the bar opening, but she didn’t bother to look, too preoccupied with trying to get Tommys attention. She made sure she bent down low enough at the table for anyone to see down her shirt. Naturally Tommy didn’t look, but she could feel Johns eyes on her and sighed.

She was a little shocked when she walked out the booth to see a beautiful woman talking to Harry, she had never seen you around before.

After hearing the door to the room shut, you kindly ended your conversation with Harry and turned around to walk in. Grace was astonished by your beautiful doe eyes, they made you look so pure and innocent. At that moment Grace became a little self conscious of her own eyes, yours were absolutely breathtaking.

Walking towards the door to see your husband and family, Grace quickly stopped you saying you were not allowed to go in there.

“I’m so sorry miss, but the room is occupied at the moment and is for family only.” She said it like she was proud, keeping a treasure like you away from Tommy was probably a good thing, she couldn’t have the attention taken from her.

You looked at Grace for a moment, thinking she was joking. But when you realized she wasn’t you let out a chuckle.

Grace turned a little red in the face, why were you laughing? She said nothing funny. “I’m sorry, but who are you? You can’t go in there so stop laughing and go sit somewhere else!” She increasingly became frustrated as you began to laugh harder.

Harry did not look pleased at all.

“Look-“

Harry finally had enough, scared to let it go too far because he knew how Tommy acted when someone disrespected his wife. “Grace, she is fine. Let her through.”

Grace looked at Harry stunned and unwillingly moved to the side to allow you in. You turned and gave a great full smile to Harry before making your way toward the door. Before you got there you made sure to “accidentally” hit Graces shoulder for a little dramatic affect. You chuckled one more time at her flabbergasted face and shut the door behind you.

Grace turned to ask Harry a question, but he was already dealing with another customer. She would just ask him later then.

**************20-ish minutes later*************

Around five minutes ago Aunt Polly and the brothers had left, leaving you and Tommy in the private booth. You could tell he had a rough day, you could see it in his eyes. Oh how you could get lost in his eyes. You could look in them for hours feeling like you were drowning in the sea, and you told him too. He always says you’re being dramatic but then tells you how much he loves your eyes. Claims they’re like beauty he’s never seen before.

“Tommy,” you said softly. You didn’t want to disturb him, he seemed lost in his own world. When he didn’t acknowledge the calling of his name you took it upon yourself to move closer towards him. You carelessly swung your legs over his lap so you were straddling him, banging your knee on the table in the process. You silently cursed yourself, feeling the bruise forming already.

Tommy had finally focused his attention on you, laughing at your clumsiness. He sat down his whiskey and rubbed his hands up your thighs affectionately, smiling as your eyes met.

“You okay love?” He struggled to keep in his chuckles at your pained look. “Gotta’ be more careful baby, can’t have you marking up your beautiful body.”

You stared at him with the look, the one that made his heart swoon, your captivating doe eyes boring into his ocean blues.

“Well to be fair, Thomas, I wouldn’t have bruised myself if you paid attention to me,” you stopped and reached up to grab his face, forcing him to look at you, “ what’s going on in that big head of yours, eh love?”

Tommy sighed, deciding to let the insult you threw at him pass. “Just a busy day love, that Solomons is a bloody pain in my arse.”

You chuckled at this, knowing of his rocky relationship with the crazy London man. You liked him though, he seemed to be the only one to truly challenge Tommy. He kept him on his toes and you enjoyed their childlike banter. No one would think either of them were notorious gangsters if they saw the way they acted together.

“Give Alfie a break honey, I’m sure he says the same about you,” you giggle to a very annoyed Tommy.

“At least I’m tolerable, he’s like a rooster who crows at the arse crack of dawn,” he smiled when he heard your loud bark of laughter. He couldn’t help but join in himself. After moments of laughing together at the despair of Alfie Solomons, Tommy looked at you with a loving look on his face. He loved when you laughed like that, completely getting lost in the moment.

You looked up at Tommy too and smiled at him, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck before leaning in to give him a kiss. Tommy squeezed both your thighs tight, smiling into the kiss himself like a lovesick teenager.

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

Unbeknownst to you and Tommy, Grace had seen everything through a crack in the side window. She was going to hand Tommy a drink through it, but stopped when she heard your giggles. She had yet to ask Harry who you were.

When she saw you on Tommy’s lap she was shocked, must be a whore she thought. But then she saw the look in Tommy’s eyes, a look she had never seen them portray before.

Love

Thomas Shelby was in love with whoever that woman was. Was this why she couldn’t get through to him? Were you the one clouding his judgement this whole time?

Looking through the crack one more time Grace quickly looked away when seeing you kissing. She may have been spying on him but she wasn’t a creep. Seeing that her suspicions were confirmed, Grace became even more curious as to who you were. The doe eyed woman was the one dancing through his mind all day, not Grace.

But just who were you?

Just as Grace was turning around she saw Harry making his way over.

“Harry!” She called waving down his attention. Harry cocked a brow before making his way over to the barmaid.

“Who is that woman in there with Tommy? The one you told me to let through earlier?”

Harry looked at her momentarily shocked, had she not known ? Surely everyone in Small Heath knew about the beauty that tamed the beast.

“That, in there is y/n Shelby. Tommy’s wife.”

Grace looked at him with wide eyes. Wife? He was married?

“Oh, I didn’t know he was married. How long have they been together?”

“Since before the war Grace, she’s always been by his side for as long as I can remember. Just know they’re happily married and to never be rude to her, woman or not Tommy will have your head. Now be a dear and go serve the man in the back, he’s been waiting for minutes.” And with that Harry walked off.

Grace stood there for moments in shock. Why hadn’t she known he was married?

As she was walking away to serve the man in the corner, she looked through the crack one last time.

There sitting in the booth was Tommy, with you snuggled into his chest while he adoringly rubbed your back. When she grabbed a refill for the man she realized something.

She was jealous of the doe eyed woman

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

a/n: hope y’all liked it, have a great day sugars!❤️

@shadowfoxey

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut #john shelby #john shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby #polly gray x reader #polly gray #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #peaky blinders smut

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nini-trash-forever · 3 years

Text

Jealousy

Luca Changretta x gn (gender neutral) reader

Luca had convinced you to come with him to a “business meeting”. He tended to get bored during things like this. So why not bring someone that could never bore him? He was meeting with some of the other Italians so that they could talk about their next move. You were finishing up the final touches of your outfit to fit in at the restaurant the meeting would be at. Luca came up behind you and admired your reflection in the mirror.

“My love,” he said in Italian as he put his arms around you. He couldn’t help but appreciate what you’re wearing. No matter what you wore, he would appreciate it. You could be wearing a burlap sack for all he cared. You started studying Italian about a month ago so you think you know what he said, but you weren’t sure. Therefore, you just smiled at him through the mirror and hoped for the best. “Are you ready to leave?” You nodded and grabbed your coat and walked out the door to go to his car.

His car pulled up to a local restaurant, Salerno’s. It’s owned by an older couple who came over from Italy a few years ago. You had met the owners, Gabriele and Sofia, a few times and they were sweet people, they minded their own business but would take care of their customers as if they were family. It’s very homely inside and the smell wafts through the air even from the outside. Luca offered his hand to you and led you inside. The delicious smell of freshly baked bread became stronger the farther you went into the restaurant. You stopped and dropped Luca’s hand.

You softly greeted Sofia with a smile and a hug. During one of your previous visits, she hinted at you being able to call her nonna, but you expressed you weren’t quite at that level yet, but you might be one day. Luca had never held a meeting here before, but did so on your recommendation. This is also his first time here. So, he was clearly shocked to find out you were somewhat close with the owners. Sofia leaned close to your ear and whispered just loud enough for Luca to hear, “Is this him?”

“Good evening. My name is Luca.” Sofia didn’t react at first, looking him over for what seemed to be the third time. Was she judging if he was good enough for you? You nudged her a little, but she remained silent.

“Luca, this is Sofia. She and her husband own this restaurant. They treat everyone like family, especially me. So please be good to them.” Sofia smiled and pulled you into a side hug. She also knew that you weren’t good enough at Italian to understand what she was about to say, and she did so with a smile.

“If I find out that you hurt them or someone they care about, I will rip out your tongue and serve it up as a specialty for dinner service.” Luca’s eyes went wide with the threat, you were oblivious. “I think it’s time for me to lead you to your table, hmm?” You nodded and followed Sofia, taking Luca’s hand in your own, but for some reason his grip was very loose. You were concerned.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

He swallowed thickly before replying, “Nothing. Just thirsty.” You didn’t quite believe him, but ignored it as you approached your table. You turned to Sofia and thanked her. Luca nodded as a thanks and she gave him a death stare but left to attend to the wait staff. That was suspicious.

“She said something to you, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to tell me what she said?” You both sat down, him at the head of the table closest to the kitchen and you to his left.

“No.”

“Smart man,” Sofia said as she walked towards the kitchen. You laughed wholeheartedly at her response. Now it is just a waiting game.

Slowly, the people filed into the restaurant. As the meeting time got closer, larger groups came in until almost the entire restaurant was full of Luca’s associates. You were surprised at just how many people were there. The wait staff came through to take drink orders and get those passed out with menus so that everyone could order their meals. It seemed like utter chaos to you, but controlled chaos to Sophia. Sophia made sure everyone’s orders were taken without a problem.

Orders were delivered to the kitchen where Gabriele and the chefs would make sure they were made to standard. You had watched him work the pass once. It was amazing to see his command and grace running the kitchen and his standard of food was one of the many reasons people came back for more. You knew that there would likely be little to no problems with the food tonight even with a packed restaurant. Within twenty minutes, appetizers started coming out of the kitchen to those who ordered them. Luca had raised his eyebrow at your choice of appetizer because most Italian restaurants weren’t able to get it right (at least in his opinion). You gave him a taste of it, though, and he seemed genuinely surprised at how good it is.

“Wow,” he said, “that’s delicious! I sort of wish I had gotten one for myself.” You smile at his statement.

“When this is over I can ask Gabriele and Sophia to make some extra for us to take with us. Would you like that?” Luca hummed and nodded his head in response. He gave you a look that let you know he adored you. The last appetizer was delivered and the first part of the meeting started. This consisted of them going over major changes since the last meeting everyone was at. It then went on to making sure everyone was on the same page about minor changes and decisions. Soon you spaced out and thought of the entrées that were being cooked in the kitchen. You had excused yourself to quickly use the restroom and talk to Sophia for a minute. By the time you got back, the food was almost ready to be served. Once it was, everyone in the room looked like they were ready to devour everything on their plates.

It seemed that everyone enjoyed their meal and dessert was served not too long after. The meeting continued on after and it seemed as though it was never going to end. You’d silently hoped that Luca could see the boredom on your face. He did. He saw the boredom, but there wasn’t much he could do. Everything being discussed was incredibly important. Eventually the meeting came to a close and most of those from the meeting had left. Some stayed behind to get extra food like you and Luca. One man had stated his wife probably wouldn’t let him in the house if he didn’t get something for her as well.

You drank quite a bit of water throughout the meeting and decided to relieve yourself once again before you left. There was a problem, though. A man who was in the meeting that seemed to be drunk was standing outside the restroom door. He was giving you a look that made you very uncomfortable and was calling you pet names that made it even weirder. This continued to happen until you stood by Luca who was paying for dinner. The strange man still did not catch on to who you were with as he said a certain phrase very loudly that you would never forget, “Hey, sweetheart! How much is he payin’ for ‘ye? I’ll double it. I could treat ‘ye real nice.” With Sophia and Luca right there, you knew something would happen but you pretended to ignore him. You gave them each a look for them to ignore what he was saying in hopes he would just go away. Eventually he did, grumbling how he didn’t think you were that good looking anyway. Luca’s jaw was clenched during this interaction. You could tell it bothered him. It certainly wasn’t the first time a creepy man had propositioned you.

It turned out that everyone had enjoyed their meals and most planned to come back with their families in the future. You grabbed the extra food and said goodbye to Sophia and Gabriele and headed to the car with Luca. His jaw was still clenched. You didn’t say anything to him. This wasn’t because you didn’t want to talk, but rather you didn’t know what to say.

The ride home was a little too silent for your liking. At this point you could feel the anger radiating off of him. He slammed the house door closed. You had tried to talk to him after getting back but he couldn’t handle it at first. You know he wasn’t upset with you. He was just angry that someone would have the audacity to say that to you, and that he didn’t do anything about it (on your wishes).

After a while, he came back to the room you’d stayed in and kissed you harshly. This went on for a couple minutes and he pulled back. It became very clear to you that he wanted your permission to go after the man who’d said those things to you. You declined. “But, y/n, I just want to talk to him for a—”

“The answer is no. I will not allow you to go after a drunk man no matter what horrific things he said to or about me. I am not that kind of person. End of discussion.” He nodded in defeat and hung his head onto your shoulder. Some time later, you both made your way upstairs and changed for bed. Snuggled close together, you sighed as you slowly fell into slumber.

As sleep started to take over you, you briefly heard Luca say something you didn’t understand. “I love and respect you. However, I cannot just let that man get away with it. I will personally make sure he pays. I just hope you can forgive me.” He held you tighter and you fell asleep in each other's arms.

#luca changretta #luca changretta imagine #luca changretta x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

Text

‘Till We Bleed Out - 1.

Vampire!bucky x reader AU

Part 1 of this series.

Run-through: Your car breaks down on a deserted road on a rainy night. You have no other option but to seek shelter from the nearest house you could find; the mansion, which happened to be the talk of the town for its mysteriousness along with its equally mysterious owner, Mr. Barnes. The universe can be tricky sometimes but the fact that you found yourself at that mansion’s doorstep at that time was no simple coincidence. That one night changes everything forever - quite literally. True love, past lives and creatures from folklore; turns out it’s all real.

Themes throughout the series: vampire!bucky, fluff, smut, angst

You knocked on the large wooden door and took a step back, hands shaking with how nervous you were.

You were quite far from your neighborhood, and none of your friends were in town currently. So really so there was no one who could come pick you up. Plus, the thunderstorm was making things worse. Your car had broken down for no reason while you were heading back home. And you drove down this road often, to get to the other side of the town and you always, always admired this mansion - at the doorstep of which you found yourself at the moment.

The mansion was renowned for its unusualness. It was the largest property around so definitely whoever owns it must be extremely well-off. Another reason why it was so talked about is because no one personally knew the man who owned it. People saw him once in a while, some claimed to have seen him at the library, or at the museum or at the coffee shops. He had no friends apparently, always seen alone. No one knew of his occupation, or how he was able to afford and maintain this large estate.

Most people said he was stand-offish, or mean, or rude or arrogant. Well, whatever he was, you were about to find out in a few seconds given that you were now knocking at his front door. What if he doesn’t agree to help? Or worse, what if he’s a creepy weirdo who-

Your thoughts were cut short as the door flew open. And the man revealed himself. Your gaze locked with his and for a brief moment, it felt like time had stopped. Blue eyes. The bluest you had ever seen. Magnetic, mesmerizing. Strong jaw, broad shoulders - the man was a dream.

I finally found you…

For some reasons those words echoed in your head, and you felt a pressing need to say them out loud. You had to force yourself out of whatever trance you were under and come back to reality.

You cleared your throat. “Hello Mr. Barnes. I apologize for-,”

He cut you off, abruptly. “Come on in.” he spoke with a warm smile and opened the door wider. And you found yourself under his spell just by the sound of his voice, again.

“But Mr. Barnes you didn’t even let me-,” you realized it would be much better if you told him why you were here in the first place, you would hate to impose.

He gave you another smile as he waited for you to enter his home, closing the door behind you. “You’re a long way from home, I figured that the only reason why you would be here at this time is because you need shelter from the terrible weather, or maybe your car broke down.” He gave you a soft look, “So which is it?”

You looked down at your shoes now drenched by the rain, sheepishly answering, “Both actually.” You looked back up at him and finally took all of him in. You had to admit, he was just as they described him; very, very handsome.

Tall, dark hair, blue eyes. He looked like he was crafted by the gods above. His soft sweater gave him a very warm look, but his eyes - icy blue, they reminded you of glaciers and mountain tops, and snowstorms. He was the kind of man one could spend hours looking at. And the more you looked at him, the more details you picked up on. For instance, how perfect his nose was. Or how well he carried himself, or just how mature and wise his facial hair made him look. He was… oddly familiar. Maybe you had seen him at the library or something before.

He must've caught you checking him out judging by the smirk he gave you. You cleared your throat again, looking everywhere else but right at him. “I promise I’ll be gone by morning, Mr. Barnes.”

He took a step forward and you froze in place. “Please, call me Bucky. And you can stay for as long as you need too, there’s no way I’m letting you leave until this terrible storm passes.” And just as he said that, you heard the thunder roar right above you.

“Thank you.” you replied with a shy smile. Normally, whenever you came face to face with men this handsome, you’d turn into a nervous mess. But Bucky had a sense of familiarity with him. Warmth, comfort; you couldn’t explain it. “You have a lovely home.” you commented.

Bucky looked right at you with a look in his eyes which you couldn’t quite decipher. Longing? Sadness? Or was it just you who was overthinking? “Thank you.” he stared at you for a few more seconds before rushing over to the coat hangers and grabbed one, holding it open for you. “I’m sorry, it seems I forgot how to be a good host. We don’t get many visitors.”

You happily accepted the coat and turned back around to smile at him. “I think you’re doing perfectly alright.”

He smiled and opened his mouth to say something but another voice beat him to it. “Who is it? I heard someone come in. Is it-,”

The woman with brown hair and a white apron, who suddenly emerged from one of the hallways, stopped talking the moment she saw you. Her lips parted in surprise and you could’ve sworn you heard her gasp. You assumed it was because of the odd time you showed up.

“Oh…” she seemed surprised. “Hello miss...” her eyes searched for Bucky and the moment she found him, her eyes widened again.

Bucky spoke up. “Wanda, this is Y/N. She will be spending the night here. Could you prepare the guestroom for her please?”

The woman, Wanda, smiled brightly and you wondered how she had this much energy at this time of the night. “Of course! Right away.” And with that, she left. Leaving you and Bucky alone again. You turned to face him again.

“That was my housekeeper, Wanda. Her and her husband take care of the house.” He explained, and you nodded.

“She seemed a little surprised upon seeing me. I didn’t mean to disturb your household at such a time, I’m-”

He cut you off again, stepping closer and gently placing his cold hands on your shoulder. You shivered a little and he didn’t seem to notice. “Y/N, listen to me. You don’t have to apologize, you didn’t disturb anyone, okay?”

His piercing blue eyes were making it hard for you to focus on what he was saying but you grasped whatever you could and nodded in understanding. “Okay.” You tried hard not to, but you couldn’t help but be all bothered by his simple touch. His very presence screamed power, in a good way. You felt safe.

“Good. Now come on, you could use some rest.” He held your hand in his gently, and led you up the grand stairs. He took your hand in his with such ease almost like he had done so a thousand times before, and you let him.

You took in more and more of the house as you moved upstairs. It was the right mixture between modern and vintage. Parts of the house looked like it belonged in one of the home décor magazines you were currently obsessed with, while others seemed like they were pieces of ancient manors. It was unusually, hauntingly beautiful.

Once you entered the guest room, you felt a wave of emotions hit you right in the face. Like homesickness, but for a place you had never stepped in before until this very moment. Nostalgia, but for a moment back in time which you had never lived in.

The room was absolutely gorgeous. Dark wooden interior, with accents of black and gold. A chandelier which reminded you of an ancient castle, and a bed which seemed fit for royalty. “I must say, you have incredible taste in interior décor.”

Bucky chuckled. “I take it you like the room. Very well then, you’ll find everything you need in the closets and in the bathroom.” He took a step back. “And if you need anything, anything at all, just call out.”

You giggled as he said so. “This place is massive. There’s no way you’re gonna hear me if I call out for you.”

He let out a little laugh. “Trust me doll, I will hear you.” And with that, he left.

You watched him as he closed the door behind him, feeling just a little more warm after that nickname. You let out a sigh of satisfaction. Well, you were weirdly comfortable here. You walked further into the room, taking in every little detail. You took off the coat Bucky gave you earlier and placed it down on one of the couches. Taking off your heels, you made your way to the bathroom and it was everything one can dream of.

You searched the cabinets and closets and found sweatpants and t-shirts which would fit you. Grabbing a set of clothes, you hopped into the shower and forgot about your broken down car and the thunderstorm. Instead, you thought of Bucky. What a peculiar man he is; no one in the town knows where he comes from, or what he does but here you were seeking help from him, showering his bathroom.

There was something about him, a sense of ease and warmth which many people lack when you first meet them. But Bucky was different. It almost felt like you’ve known him all your life.

When you stepped out, all refreshed and dressed you sensed a change the moment you walked back into the bedroom. Someone was here.

“I brought you some tea. To warm you up a little.”

You turned around and found Bucky sat on one of the couches by the bed. You instantly smiled, instead of being startled. He was so easy to be around.

You walked towards him. You picked up one of the cups from the coffee table and brought it up to your nose, softly blowing on it before inhaling the lovely scent.

“It’s chamomile and lavender.” Bucky said, and you faced him with a big smile.

“My favorite, thank you.” you smiled at the odd coincidence as you took a sip of the tea. It soothed you immediately.

Bucky picked up his own cup and took a slow sip as he watched you intently. “Tell me about yourself, Y/N.”

The way your name rolled off his tongue sent shivers down your spine. Which then reminded you that you never actually told him your name. Or maybe you did and you forgot.

You held your warm cup with both hands and began. You told him your name, where you’re from, where you work and a little bit about your family. You knew you shouldn’t be giving this much detail about your life to a stranger but you were currently drinking tea in his guest room wearing clothes he provided, so the least you could do is engage fully in the conversation.

He did a little nod after each piece of information you fed him, and you found it adorable.

“It’s your turn.” you spoke after you were done talking about yourself.

He smiled. It was a sad smile, or so it seemed. Surely you were overthinking. “I’m quite a boring person to be honest. I work all day, and I work all night. My family is… not around so I have to handle everything. All their businesses and companies around the country.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely here? I mean it’s a magnificent home but, to live here alone must be quite hard, no?”

You didn’t mean to pry but the way he looked straight into your eyes made you want to know the man a little better. Why was he so calm and collected? How is he so okay with you just being in his home? Why is he so kind? He didn’t seem old, then why did he give off the vibes of being so mature and wise, like he’s lived lifetimes before this one?

“Memories can be great company.” He answered in a tone which gave away that the man had lost a lot. Perhaps a close family member? Or a friend or a spouse? He added, “And this house is full of it.”

“You grew up here?” you couldn’t help but ask.

He gave you that same look; sad, longing like he was desperately trying to show certain emotion but he couldn’t.

“I moved here. With my wife.” Those words of his caused your heart to feel heavy. “But she passed, a long time ago.” The look on his face made your heart burn for some reasons. The need to comfort him took over you but you refrained from doing so, it wasn’t your place to.

“You must’ve loved her a lot.” You didn’t ask, you stated. Because it showed.

He had that same sad smile on his face. “She was my everything. My lifeline.”

He sounded so broken, it hurt. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He smiled again. “You know, I like to think that the things we lose end up coming back to us, eventually. One way or another.”

That didn’t really make sense to you right away, but it was a beautiful thought nonetheless. “That’s beautiful.”

He stared into your eyes again, and it seemed like he was fighting something back. The need to say something perhaps. “It’s late. You should get some sleep.” And just as he said that, the thunder roared again, as loud as it could.

You stood up as he did. He said goodnight and left. And you were left standing there wondering what the hell happened in the past few minutes. His presence alone made you feel safe for some reasons. Knowing that he was just a few doors down the hallway made you less anxious. Even when you settled under the covers, it didn’t feel like a foreign bed.

You wondered why. How could you have settled into an unfamiliar home so easily? It wasn’t weird, just surprising.

With the help of the tea, you drifted off to sleep in no time. Dreaming about ballrooms, and kissing a man inside a beautiful mansion and… and a pair of ocean blue eyes…

A flutter on your cheek, and you looked up to find a pair of blue eyes looking down at you. “Hello sweetheart. You ready?” the man said as he offered you a red rose.

You nodded, despite his face being quite blurry. You felt his arms around you, and you felt safe; like nothing could go wrong and this was a perfect world. You felt his lips place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Your surroundings changed and now you were at a ball, wearing a lovely rose gold gown, arms linked with the tall man. The music was unfamiliar but lovely. He twirled you around and pulled you close, your one hand carefully placed in his and the other on his shoulder. You noticed the shiny ring on your ring finger, and the wedding band on his. You smiled, realizing that this was your husband and all was well.

Your surroundings faded again. Now you were inside your home. A beautiful home, with the fireplace warming the room you were in. Your blue-eyed husband was beside you again, the two of you sat by the fireplace and he offered you a glass of wine. You smiled, taking it from him. You felt a slight discomfort inside your mouth, around your front teeth but that was alright, it seemed like you were used to it. You brought the wine glass up to your lips, letting some of the contents into your mouth. It wasn’t wine, but you seemed to enjoy it nonetheless.

Euphoria, you felt utter euphoria as you stared into the same pair of eyes only this time they were so red, they seemed black. He reached out and held your face in place and tilted his head just a little; deepening the kiss. He nibbled on your lower lip and shoved his tongue past your lips. Your body tingled in his arms. It all felt so right and perfect, it felt like a dream. Like a dream inside a dream.

Gentle sin, that’s what it felt like when he pulled you closer, his hand slipping under your night dress and resting on your thigh while his other hand cupped your cheek. Your hands slid into his hair naturally and he moaned into the kiss again when you tugged at his roots a little. He kissed down your neck, his arm wrapped around your waist, pressing your body against his. He nibbled on the skin at the side of your throat, his teeth sharp and you were sure he left marks on your skin, but you didn’t mind.

You gasped and moaned. This felt right. He pulled away after a while. He looked down at you with pink, swollen, parted lips. Slightly breathless, and his eyes showed nothing but love and passion, and a hunger like you had never seen before, but it was all familiar. His face was unclear, but you could make out certain features of his and he was oddly familiar too.

“I love you.” He mumbled.

You knew that voice…

“I love you so much.” He whispered against your lips, his hand slipping in between your legs with no shame; his knuckles gently stroked your wet folds; making you shiver at his touch. He smiled against your lips upon feeling just how aroused you were, before he pulled away and kissed down your body. He took your sensitive nipples in his mouth.

He sucked on the soft skin as his teeth applied just the slightest bit of pressure upon the bud. His warm tongue swirling around your nipple had you throwing your head back in pleasure.

Your eyes closed as you relished his touch. You felt him kiss his way down your body; from your lips all the way down to your hip bones; his lips soft and gentle on your skin.

He placed his hands on either one of your thighs and slowly spread your legs further apart and attached his lips to your core without any hesitation. You moaned out loud as you felt his warm mouth on top of your dripping core. His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance; occasionally flicking your throbbing clit mercilessly.

Obscene, wet sounds erupted from where his mouth latched on to your core, and the sight was just as sinful. He had dark hair you noticed. The room was getting darker and darker as well. You could see your arousal drenching the lower half of his face as he ate you out relentlessly until you were nothing but a moaning, hot mess, squirming on the large bed.

Your body arched off the bed for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you when his tongue slowly circled around your sensitive clit. The pressure between your legs was building up nicely.

With a few more strokes of his tongue, you let go and gushed out all over his face without any warning. He licked you clean, then kissed his way up your body again. “You’re all mine, Y/N.” he whispered softly against your lips as he settled in between your legs again. You shuddered under him and whined against his mouth, the feeling reminding you a lot of how you shivered earlier when a pair of cold hands held you gently by the shoulder.

Your body felt tingly as he pushed himself fully into you. He lifted his head to look at you and you gasped quietly in surprise. It was Bucky. Although he still had dark eyes, and sharp canines?

He didn’t give you time to think too much. You moaned out loud once he filled you up entirely, and he gave you a couple of seconds to relax your tense body. You wrapped around him perfectly. You were so full of his thick cock that even forming a proper thought seemed impossible at the moment. You shuddered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, kissing you deeply while he rolled his hips against yours.

His body felt cold. But it also felt familiar. Being so close to him felt right.

You whimpered as he slowly slipped out of you completely, before slamming back into you slightly harder. He groaned right in your ear as you felt your walls wrap around him, squeezing and clenching. This felt right.

Panting and swearing under his breath, he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulders; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you. He kissed your face; all over. You felt a little bold so you hooked your legs around his waist as his thrusts got rougher than the last. You were a moaning mess under him as your hands gripped his arms and shoulder. Your body moved against his like a rag doll. You knew, in your dream that you belonged to him, and him you.

“I love you.” he whispered. He kissed you, bit your skin, kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you; and you never complained once. If anything, you wanted more. You needed him closer. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them around his waist. He growled and bit down on your shoulder as he fucked you. He was relentless, and you liked it.

“I love you so much,” he whispered in your ear, groaning as you tried to meet each one of his thrusts as well. He slammed into you, his hands travelling all over your body, until one of them wrapped around your throat. Your eyes watered as the pleasure became too much to handle; and you felt the pressure forming again. You felt him everywhere, each nerve ending burning and tingling.

You squirmed in pleasure as both his hands gripped your hips, pushing you into him harshly each time he filled you up. A sweet, familiar pain formed again, and you came without any warning; gushing out all over him as he kept slamming into you, chasing his own orgasm.

“Bucky... ” you sounded breathless.

He gasped and snuggled closer to you. His eyes were back to the gentle blue again. “I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ll always be here. I love you, Y/N.”

You wanted to say it back. But then you woke up to a loud boom. You sat up gasping, and looking around frantically. You were sweating, but also cold. The room was dark, unlike the one in your dream earlier, which was illuminated by candlelight. It took you a little while to reorient yourself. The storm was somehow getting more and more loud and violent outside.

And you just had a weird dream about Bucky. Which didn’t feel like a dream, but more like a memory. A memory buried so deep that it almost didn’t feel real.

You were confused. What is the meaning of all this?

---

a/n: hi

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #vampire!bucky #marvel au #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you

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