Sunday, January 29, 2012

A France Lemon -- Liaison

Character: France

Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia

OC: [Name]

Inspiration: Erm...I felt like writing it? Nobody requests anything for France D:

You collapsed on the couch, feeling worse for wear and exhausted. Today has been one of those days. (The kind where, at the end of it, you just want to curl up in bed and scream out your thanks that it’s finally over.) Unfortunately for you, no such relaxation could be attained, because your lover had a habit of coming over on Friday nights. And tonight, of course, was Friday.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him...just that you really wanted to take a hot shower and go to sleep. You knew that with France over, showering alone was practically blasphemous and simply falling asleep didn’t exist without some form of foreplay. Which was why you were tempted to lock the front door and ignore him when he came over.

Alas, France wasn’t one to just knock on the door when he was here, though. He preferred to be a much more spontaneous lover – something he claimed came naturally – and that’s why he suddenly appeared in the living room grasping a bouquet of roses and looking particularly suave; and also why you let out a small little yell at the sight of him.

“Ohonhon~ You are excited to see me, ma cheri?” he winked, and then proceeded to look you up and down, eyes sparkling with happiness.

You weren’t wearing anything particularly sexy. In fact, you hadn’t even changed out of your work clothes yet. Your pencil skirt had jutted up when you sat down, though, showing smooth legs sill wrapped in dark stockings. You’d taken your jacket off and left your blouse on, having felt constricted. The first few buttons of the white fabric was undone. Perhaps the small show of cleavage was enough to induce that wild smirk? You had to admit, you were feeling rather like prey as Francis gazed at you hungrily.

“Francis,” you didn’t look at him, but rather pointedly crossed your arms and frowned, “I’m really not in the mood. I just want to sleep tonight.”

His lips curved further upward, displaying a smirk that left you strangely breathless and even more wary. He nodded his consent, hands lazily digging into pockets, and strolled toward you. He tossed the roses onto the coffee table. “But of course, mademoiselle! When we get to the bed, we will only sleep.” Still, something in his eyes made you realize that getting to the bed would be more difficult that you’d thought.

He knelt in front of you, hands drifting to your knees and slightly up your legs, and smiled. You were about to protest, because the look in his eyes was so damn familiar, but then he leaned down to press his lips against your stocking clad thighs, and suddenly your willpower crumbled into dust.

There was definitely something satisfactory about this position. It might have been the fact that Francis was on his knees before you, seemingly bowing. It may have been the way his fingers were ghosting over you, sending chills and heat coursing through you at once. It may have been the fact that you were starting to wish you could repeal your previous words, about just spending the night sleeping... Whichever, the emotions that bridled behind your actions forced you to move your hands into his hair, tugging through the silken strands of blonde.

He smiled up at you, but it was a smile that was far from innocent. You had a feeling you knew what he was planning, and your thoughts were correct as you watched him dip his hands underneath your jostled skirt.

“You’ve had a bad day at the meeting,” he murmured, delicately licking the inner side of your knee. The strange feel of his tongue over your stocking sent shivers over you. He hummed, pushing your skirt further up, “Let me help you relax.”

His voice, so husky and controlled, made you want to succumb to him wholly and completely. You watched him through jaded, hazy eyes, feeling a light blush cover your cheeks as he leaned in. His fingers reached the edge of your stockings and slowly, gently tugged them down. Your panties were quick to follow.

When they had been pulled to your knees, his fingers gently pried your legs open, eyes locking onto your womanhood, still shaded beneath your skirt. The intensity of his cerulean eyes made you whimper. At the sound, he darted his burning gaze to lock with yours. Jolts of heat and desire erupted within you at the contact.

And then, suddenly, his elbows pushed down into the couch on either side of your legs, and his chest pushed against your knees as he leaned farther in. Eyes still locked, he murmured, “Allow me, mon amour?” You didn’t have time to even breath out a moan of consent before his mouth was descending upon your flower. Your body immediately convulsed in excited shivers.

“Mm! F-Fr..Francis!” You tugged him closer, hands tightening in his hair as you felt his glorious tongue drift over you, jerking and pushing and licking all your worries away.

When his fingers went in to assist his mouth, you went berserk. He was so talented, moved in such a skilled way as he pleasured you. His finger dipped against the bundle of nerves as his tongue entered you, twisting and pushing against your walls in the most delicate of ways.

You felt your breath come out in short gasps. Your back arched, head jerking back against the couch as your eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling. Your legs acted on their own as they wrapped around him, trying vainly to bring him ever closer. A long, low moan escaped your parted lips, sounding suspiciously like Francis’ name.

As if in response, he hummed against you. The vibrations of his hum, coupled with the thrust of his tongue, made you pant and writhe. You wanted to come, but every time you thought you might, Francis slowed down and didn’t allow it. It was getting ridiculous.

Your chest heaved. You felt him suck you, mouth moving to whip his tongue over the bundle of nerves. His fingers replaced his tongue, and reached deeper within your heated core, scissoring and plunging your depths. You moaned again, this time louder.

You wanted to tell him to hurry up, because your orgasm was so imminent and close, and all you wanted to do was slip into it and forget. Forget about the entire day, and just focus on the here and now, with Francis, the bed just a few rooms over, the shower just waiting for two bodies to inhabit it. This was what you needed all along; this companionship, this intense bliss that branded into your heart and your lungs as you panted and whimpered and breathed his name.

And finally, as his fingers reached a tight, fast pace, you knew he was giving his consent. You snapped your eyes open and locked them with his, finding him staring at you lustfully. The sight of that lust – that growing desire – had a handle in sending you over the edge. As your moans grew louder and your orgasm rushed forward, he quickly replaced his fingers with his mouth once more. The sight of it made you explode.

You jerked against him, hands flying from his hand as your back arched and all coherent thought flew from your head. You could feel your chest constricting, panting, heaving. You watched him drink you up, tongue whirring against your slick folds, lapping up all your juices as his fingers tightly grasped your hips.

And then, as the power of your orgasm faded, and you collapsed backwards, you could hear his chuckle and knew that you probably looked more sated than you had in a long, long time.

You felt the couch depress as his moved beside you, and then you were brought against his chest and a kiss was pressed to your forehead. Sighing happily, you murmured a small ‘thank you’.

Because even though Francis could sometimes be crass and dominant, he knew what you needed better than you did yourself. Which was rather satisfactory.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

A Tamaki Suoh Lemon -- Heart Beat

Character: Tamaki Suoh

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club

OC: Nakamura Akako, brunette, green eyes, plays the violin

Inspiration: Stockings

“Is this really a good idea?” Nakamura wondered as Kyoya let her inside the Music Room. They’d invited her – erm, well, actually Tamaki had – about a week ago, because they were hosting their annual Christmas party. Though she was dressed up and felt fairly pretty, Nakamura never much cared for the Christmas holiday and was wary to accept their invitation...or to even enter the room at all.

Her mind was made up when two troublesome twins hooked their arms around hers and walked her inside, chatting happily into her ear as she shyly looked around. “It’s a rather bland party, I’ll admit,” one of them said. “But it’s a party nonetheless, right? Merry Christmas, Naka-chann~!” And they both planted kisses on her cheeks before leaving her to go prey on someone else.

Though their antics should have broken the ice, Nakamura was left feeling even more uncomfortable than she was before. She shifted around, feeling quite out of place, and sighed. She knew this wasn’t a good idea...

“Are you just going to stand there?” she spun around in surprise, only to find Tamaki himself only a few feet away. He smirked, “You look lovely tonight, Princess. Would you like a dance?”

Immediately, her cheeks flared up. She stuttered a bit and was about to shake her head when his arms wound about her waist and he brought her into the center of the dance floor.

There was definitely something magical about dancing in a room lit by hundreds of tiny little Christmas lights. Nakamura could feel her heart pound against her chest with every twist in his arms. When he brought her close, she could feel her face grow hot. His breath wavered over her, but he didn’t kiss her.

When Tamaki had seen her come into the room, he almost couldn’t believe his eyes. The fact that she looked better than any girl here didn’t really surprise him. What gave him a shock was what she was wearing.

He was sure he’d seen her in less, but even the thought of her completely bare didn’t compare to what she looked like now. He had to admit, it was the stockings that did it. Lacy and made of silk, they traveled up her legs and disappeared beneath her dress. The stitching that raced down the sides of her legs was bold and made him want to reach out to cup her skin. He had to brace himself as they danced. Moving in any farther than they already were would be hazardous.

When the dance was over, Tamaki let out a sigh of relief. It had been the longest dance he’d ever remembered, and he was somehow unsatisfied. He didn’t stop Nakamura as she kissed his cheek and then left to find some of her friends. Instead, he stood there for half a minute, feeling lost and confused, and then his thoughts were interrupted by Kyoya.

“Tamaki. Make sure you dance with the other guests tonight, alright?” He watched his friend shift his glasses higher onto his nose. “If you’re only around Nakamura-san, it’ll be bad for the sales.”

Tamaki nodded absently, not really hearing him. His mind was focused on things that it shouldn’t be. He wondered if anyone might notice his disappearance? Would they care if Nakamura disappeared too? He swallowed thickly.

Kyoya raised a brow, swept his eyes over his friend, and smirked. “Before you start dancing, you might want to take care of your problem, though. Nakamura’s over there.” He pointed toward her, and watched as Tamaki blushed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spluttered, trying not to look down at what must be the reason for his thoughts. But Kyoya was right, of course. He couldn’t very well dance with the guests with a raging hard on. Jesus.

He blamed it entirely on those blasted stockings that clung to her legs. They were seemingly innocent, until they reached her thighs. Of course, it might have been Tamaki’s personal fetish or something – he shuddered at the mundane thought – but the way the lacey tops peeked out from beneath her high skirt was absolutely riveting.

He made his way over to her feeling desperate and uncomfortable. His mind kept going back to what he wanted to do to her. Peel those socks slowly down her leg, kiss every revealed inch of flesh, shift her onto her back and fling her ankle over his shoulder – no. That’ll come later. Right now, he had to pull her away from her friends.

Evidently, he wasn’t doing a very good job at hiding his disparity. Nakamura’s group of friends gave him just one look before flitting away, giggling amongst themselves and leaving Nakamura slightly red in the face. It was nothing compared to Tamaki’s blush, but he tried to ignore that heat in his face as his hands slid around her waist. (Partly because he wanted to touch her, and partly because he was highly embarrassed that she was giving him an erection just by looking at her.)

“Tamaki,” she ran her fingers through his hair, feeling him shiver at the sound of his name. He looked down at her through half lidded blue eyes, locking onto her plush lips, so ready for a kiss... And, because his thoughts were so very apparent, Nakamura saved him the trouble of leaning down as she pushed her mouth on his.

It was one of those moments that exceeded all expectations. She became putty in his arms, knees shaking and mouth watering at the sheer amount of his desire. It was shown through their kiss, through the connection of their bodies as he clutched her, through the heavy breath that wavered over her mouth when they paused.

And when they did pause, and opened their eyes to share the moment every further, something in both of them broke, shattering away to reveal a trust and a passion that neither could quite understand, but both wanted more than they knew.

“Back room? 5 minutes,” came his husky whisper, spilling over her bruised lips as she gasped. She could only nod, breathlessly satisfied by the scorching look in his clear eyes, and then he was gone.

Five minutes was hell. Nakamura felt herself lost as she wound around the tables and couples, trying not to look anyone in the face. Now that Tamaki was gone, she felt naked. Like everyone had seen their passionate kiss and was judging her for the public display of affection. She definitely felt glares in her back...

It took all her willpower not to run into the back rooms of the Host Club this second. The minutes slipped by slowly, and she felt like shuddering at the loss of warmth that her lover’s presence gave her. She glanced up only once, right into Kyoya’s knowing gaze, and then blushed heavily and didn’t look up again.

She wasn’t sure how she made it through, but when she was absolutely sure that five minutes had gone by, she quietly stole out of the room. Her heart thudded in her chest at the thought of the moments ahead.

He was waiting for her a few rooms in, sitting on a spare velvet couch. There was hardly any other furniture within the room, save for few tables and shelves pushed against the far wall. Somehow, the sight of the unused place made her desire escalate.

Tamaki couldn’t seem to look away from her. She was like a rare gift, all wrapped up and ready to be opened. His eyes trailed over her skin, blazing a path that left her blushing and breathless. When he got to her stockings, he felt his pants tighten. His fingers twitched and all he wanted to do was touch those pale, creamy thighs...

The train of his thoughts was shared by her, because she didn’t linger by the door for long. She stepped up to him, feeling strangely calm in the turn of the events. It must have been the appraising look in Tamaki’s eyes, or maybe the subtle sound of his fast breathing that gave her confidence, but she suddenly felt like the only woman in the world, and the only one who could please him.

Had she not felt that confident glow, then Nakamura certainly would not have been so callously bold as she climbed into his lap. Her knees straddled him, pressing her body against his and feeling the cause of his lust. His hands slid around her waist, his cheeks blushing the lightest shade of pink at her crass actions. But he couldn’t complain, because his fingers now had perfect access to her legs.

The tips of his fingers ran gingerly over them, as though they were a sacred gift that came only once every lifetime. He touched the lace at the tops, pushing her skirt ever higher so as to appreciate her better. His thumb circled the skin just above, atop her thigh.

She watched him, feeling more desire with every stroke of his fingers. He peeled the stocking slowly down, just to her knee, and then smoothed her pale skin with little flicks of his glorified hands. She could feel warmth jolt through her with each movement.

Leaning forward, Nakamura pressed kisses to his jaw and neck. One hand traveled to his hair and tangled into the blonde strands. She could feel him shudder beneath her; felt the shallow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and the twitching mass of his manhood as it pressed tightly to her warmth.

As though just remembering it’s existence, Nakamura shifted slightly, grinding against him. Pleasure shot through her, intense and hot as Tamaki gasped. His hands flew from her thighs to her waist, clutching her and pulling her down harder. His length was hard and she wanted to feel it inside her, without all the confinements of clothing.

He seemed to follow her every thought, because his fingers were quickly, hastily pulling at her top, sliding it down her shoulders and undoing the buttons that held up her skirt. Amidst clothes falling away, they were both aware of how little time they had before people would start getting suspicious. Only the clothes whose disappearance were most needed were slipped off.

She leaned down to kiss him as he pulled her skirt up, loosened and too complicated to fully tear away. Her panties were shoved aside for him, still latched around her hips as his length pressed into her.

She arched into him, breasts pushing against his chest. He slid his hand beneath the cups of her bra, which was unlatched but still around her, and began to knead at her breasts.

The pleasure he inflicted upon her was amazing, and all too much. She came down to sheath his manhood completely within her, making a heat that she’d never felt before take control of her. She panted and moved, jostling up and down as she quickly accommodated his size. He felt so utterly good inside of her, filling her up and making her forget who and where she was.

His hands soon abandoned her breasts in order to clutch at her waist. He led her on, slinking her core around his shaft as he thrust up and into her. His nails dug lightly into her skin, head thrown back and exposing his neck to her hungry eyes. She took to chance as it came to her, leaning in, tightening her grip on his shoulders, and pressing quick little nips and kisses down his tender skin.

He moaned, a garbled bunch of syllables escaping his mouth. Shivers raced through her at the sound, and she upped the pleasure because she really wanted to hear more of them.

His name fell from her lips, whispered and breathless. His eyes flew open and locked with her, silently conversing with her as they sped toward their end.

It was a fruitful end indeed – one that left them completely beside themselves. As her orgasm flew through her, she could feel nothing but him; hear nothing but the thrum of his heart as is melded with hers; see nothing but the burning, scalding love that touched his royal eyes and led his hasty movements. His seed filled her like nothing she’d ever experienced, tearing through her and utterly satisfying her need. With said desire quelled, she could only cling to him and wait until the waves of passion rolled through them.

After a few minutes, it did, and it left them panting and warm as the effects of their actions settled them. His fingers now lazily toyed with the hem of her stockings, still latched to her legs. One hand smoothed over her back, dipping under the shirt that was now loosely hanging from her frame. With their thirst quenched, the hastiness died down. Nakamura shifted beside him, cuddling to his side as he wrapped his arms around her.

Only the beating of their hearts sounded in their ears.