Monday, March 31, 2014

An America Lemon -- Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

Character: America

Fandom: Hetalia

OC: [Name]

Inspiration: Two words = Cowboy!America.  I wanted to see this happen so I decided to write it up for ya~  Fixed the picture for you guys too :3


America was bred from a hundred different skies.  The land was segregated into North, South, East, West, and yet it was all so interconnected, so irrefutably entwined that a deep sense of integration persisted even amid gaping differences.  And that was how Alfred was.  So different, so hard to follow.  He was split in so many directions that it was impossible to truly understand him.  And yet people always thought they knew.  Always thought they understood the quirks of his personality.  Even when they didn't really have an inkling of what was truth and what was ironic fallacies, pushed into reality with an insincerely sincere smile.
Except sometimes Alfred could be sincere, when he really wanted to.  Sometimes when he was alone or with someone who knew him very well, he'd drop the semblance of 'loveable idiot' and become someone realer, with more gravity, more seriousness.  More blazing determination.  That was how you liked to see him, with that fire in his eyes, ready to latch onto whatever issue was in the forefront of his mind.  And this particular issue was one both of you were ready to latch onto.
He stopped short in the doorway of his bedroom, not expecting the sight of you.  You worked a lot and came home late most days, so it was rare for you to be there in the early evenings.  But that wasn't why he stopped.  He stopped because of the brown leather that was edging over your tanned skin, the curve of a hat slipping down over your face, and the smirk that had eased itself over your lips at the surprised gaze that was directed at you.
"Howdy, Alfred," you drawled, and your voice was set in such a sultry tone that he swallowed hard.  His blue eyes became darker with every second he spent staring at you.  He took a step into the room, then closed the door shut behind him without looking away.  "…Are those my old cowboy boots?"  And hat, and belt, he wanted to also ask, but he was having trouble speaking.
You raised an eyebrow and turned your gaze down on your body, which lay curled up at the head of the bed.  You were indeed wearing his boots, though they were slightly too big for you.  And his hat.  And his belt.  And nothing else.  Well, besides the thin undergarments which had stars and strips printed on them rather obnoxiously.  You figured that was a nice touch.  Your eyes darted back up to his and you were pleased to see the lust that was building up in his gaze.  "Looks like it," you said casually, as though you hadn't realized your attire before that moment.  His eyes flashed dangerously and you smirked wider. 
Alfred had different levels of passion.  You'd discovered this for yourself ages ago.  Sometimes he could be rough and quick, sometimes he liked to drag out the passion and sentiments.  But tonight was the time for neither.  Tonight was new and interesting and had no boundaries. 
"Hmm," he said, mirroring your too-casual tone.  He crossed his arms and his eyes slid over your panties, amusement crossing his expression.  "I like what you did with the leather." 
You snickered a little, biting your lip in an attempt to hold your laughter back.  You were, surprisingly, completely comfortable even in your flimsy attire.  You felt right at home under the scrutiny of his eyes, and it was with an air of utter confidence that you said in a snarky tone, "I thought you would."
His smile turned predatory, ferocious, but he kept up his casual air in the most infuriating way.  If he saw the impatience driving a path through you, Alfred didn't say anything.  He did watch you, though, with eyes that said, 'I can see.  The way you want me, the way you need me.'  And it made you ache for him something awful.  This wasn't the loveable idiot who ate hamburgers nonstop and who came up with the craziest ideas.  Here, there was a more intelligent gleam in his eyes, a darker sliver of a personality that made you want to fuck him silly.
You fell back on the bed, arms flying high over you as they landed on the pillows.  And then you shot your eyes back down to his tense form, where he was pushing up his glasses with two fingers, gleaming eyes cutting through the dim light.  "Alfred…" you murmur, reaching out a hand for him.  "Don't just stand there like a stranger~"  Your eyes turned to melted pleas and he was powerless in the midst of them, and also too excited to feel your body writhing beneath his, enslaved in passion.  So it was with that air of lazy indulgence that he sighed out and twisted his tie loose, until it was only a tangled mass of threads on the floor.  The he popped the first few buttons of his dress shirt and stepped forward.
His hand slipped around your wrist and he dragged it up above your head along with the other one.  His body slipped over yours with perfect grace and the sudden crash of his body heat and weight made you shiver delightfully.  His dress shirt creased over your bare stomach, the starch infiltrating your senses and leading your down a path where clothing was nothing but optional.  He hovered above you like that, pinning your hands down, knee pressed sinfully between your legs, and then Alfred leaned in to kiss you.  Solemnly, with a trembling of soft romance.
Except you didn't want soft romance.  You wanted passion, driven so far into bone and marrow that every microscopic part of you burned from the fire.  You wanted that dark gleam of his eyes pinning you down, down into a special sort of world neither heaven nor hell, but filled with the essence of him, everywhere.  You wanted him rough, like pine trees and decaying fences and ceaseless, relentless land and cowboys. 
You wrestled one hand out of his tight grasp and tickled it down his arm, stopping on your way to curl your fingers over the brim of his hat as it rested upon your head.  And then you gently eased it off and pushed it onto him, instead, and the rowdy, no-nonsense sight he made had you purring out with desire.  It was just a hat and yet it was so much more.  It made him as rough as the land he called his own and that was when you like him best, when he mirrored the darker facet of his country.  The one which silently careened through tall grasses and mindlessly, arrogantly swayed as one of them.
He blinked down at you through eyes that were suddenly as dark as a night sky, dashed through with starry lights which gleamed out every single, endless desire.  His lips quirked up into that smirk, the crooked one that blazed over his features with a twist of delicious confidence.  A dimple rose up beside it and you leaned in to kiss it, hooking your legs around his waist as you did.  He hummed, a growled out sort of sound, and then turned his head so that his mouth was pressing against yours.  He pushed you back down into the pillows and the weight of his kiss and his hips made you delirious.
"Mmm…Alfred," you whispered.  He glanced up at you and you shivered at the wilderness that invaded his gaze.  That predator gleam had grown, turned and shifted into something else, something that you felt radiating from every crevice and corner of his body.  You panted.  You couldn't get enough air, your lungs were a shallow mess of twisting, windswept desire that you couldn't control, not even a little bit.  His eyes gleamed down at you and you whimpered out a short, breathless, "Touch me.  I want you to touch me, Alfred~"
Those eyes flashed.  That smirk broadened.  He gave you a crooked, wicked smile that made his entire expression turn brutal with passion.  But even though you could clearly see how badly he wanted to give in, Alfred only raised an eyebrow and maintained that air of casual disbelief.  "Really?  Now that's interesting," he murmured, voice dark and slivered with all sorts of promises.  You squirmed beneath his hips, trying to get him to move against you.  You could feel his hard cock, could see the bulge of his jeans and you knew, without a doubt, that he was rock hard.  But he still didn't give in.
Alfred smirked and brushed his mouth against your trembling lips.  When you moved into him, he pulled back and chuckled at the whimpered moan that escaped your throat.  He brushed his fingers over your hair, tucking it behind your ear in an oddly sincere, loving gesture.  And then he rocked back, pulling himself into a sitting position and looking down at you.  Like a mountain sentinel surveying his territory.
"You want me to touch you…" he muttered, locking his brilliant blue eyes with yours.  You stared at him in wonderment, unsure as to how you got yourself into his position.  You started off with so much power but you'd let it go too quickly, without even realizing it.  But there was little you could do about it, not when he was looking at you like he wanted to devour you whole.  Not when he had you pinned beneath him and was torturing you with just the feel of his erection.  It was baffling.
His fingers traced along the brown leather that cupped your breasts.  You'd found the top in a store that sold all sorts of odd lingerie and thought it would go nicely with the stars and stripes panties.  It obviously did, if your lover's expression had anything to say on the matter.  And the coil of rope (courtesy of said lingerie store) attached to the side, by your hip, seemed to make him even more turned on. 
He fingered the rope with an almost aloof expression, but when he raised his eyes back to yours, Alfred looked anything but aloof.  He raised an eyebrow, "Naughty girl.  Good girls don't say such wicked things."  He chuckled a little and tugged at the zipper that was situated just between your breasts.  He was tugging the leather open a moment later, staring down at your naked chest. 
You saw his brief distraction as the perfect opportunity to get some of your power back.  As Alfred sighed out and ran his hands up your abdomen, stopping just below your breasts and fitting his thumbs along the valley between them.  You smirked and touched his hands, curling your fingers around his wrists before dragging them up his arms, over his shoulders, around his neck.  Then, tugging him down a little and forcing him to lean over you, you whispered a low, erotic, "I never claimed I was a good girl, Alfred."  And you watched him hold back a shiver with amusement.  His eyes darkened.
He was momentarily under your spell as you slid your hands down his chest and began unbuttoning his shirt.  You did so at an even pace, like the situation you were in was totally normal.  Like Alfred didn't have a raging erection and like you weren't pounding for him, right through the stars and stripes that covered the most sensitive part of you.
He moved his hands so that they pushing into the pillow near you head, and watched you move beneath him, pushing his shirt away and smooth your fingers over his sculpted chest.  Then he sighed out and hummed, moving his weight onto one elbow and reaching down for the rope again.  With a smirk he asked, "And what do you plan to do with this, ma'am?"  And you giggled a little because his voice had that crease of the West in it, that slight drawl that edged over his tongue and lilted his words into pure country. 
He idly raised his hand to cup your breast as he waited for an answer, squeezing the globe of flesh in his fingers with a soft sort of reverence.  You bite back a smile and shrugged, sneaking a leg around his waist and gently pulling him against your core.  Then you pushed a hand into his hair and looked up at him boldly, crassly, "I was hoping you'd have some ideas, actually."
He grinned wolfishly and ducked down to take your breast into his mouth, like he finally couldn't resist the call of your body, like it was the only thing he wanted to do.  But against your flesh he chuckled, and you knew that he had many other things on his mind as well, many other things that had to do with other endeavors.  You clutched at his hair and held back a moan as he rolled his hips against yours. 
"I have lots of ideas," he admitted, and his voice was arrogant in way, slivered through with pride and desire and knowledge.  He kissed the valley of your breasts and moved onto the other one, taking his time as he dragged his tongue over your hardening nipples and looked up at you, at your reaction.  Whatever he saw there seemed to please him because he smirked wider, more crookedly.  "But none of them would be very gentlemanlike," he said, and there was a warning in his voice, a warning that you planned to totally, steadfastly ignore.
"Good," you purred, watching his eyes flash and burn with more desire and more determination.  You slowly hooked your other leg around his waist and locked your ankles behind him, wriggling your hips against the bulge of his jeans and watching his cheeks flush with color.  But it wasn't embarrassment.  It was a struggle, plain and simple.  A struggle for the upper hand, a struggle to reign in the desperate side of his arousal and ignore all his immediate desires.  "Now touch me.  I want you to."  And he blinked down at you from behind his glasses and the rim of his cowboy hat.
With a raised eyebrow and all sorts of feigned innocence, Alfred said, "I've been touching you."  And bit back a smile as you groaned in impatience.  You wiggled your hips and your hands ran along the edge of his jeans in an obvious hint.  "You know that's not what I mean," you told him with a glare.  A glare that he shrugged off and ignored.
Before you knew what was happening, Alfred was unhooking the rope and was making a show of unraveling it, staring at you all the while.  He was a little surprised to see the expression on your face, the hint of wariness that you were trying to hide away.  He chuckled, "It's your fault, you know.  You shouldn't have included this in your little role-play.  It only makes me want to use it."  When you didn't say anything, he sighed and leaned in to kiss you softly.  Against your mouth, he whispered, "I'll be gentle.  I promise you'll like it.  And if you don't, I'll stop."
You laughed but it was a little strained, because it had only been for fun, just a little skit to make everything seem realer.  You hadn't thought Alfred would actually use it.  His lovemaking was usually raw but in a different way, a more emotional one.  He blinked down at you and pressed his forehead against yours, waiting for your answer, and you finally gave it to him in the form of a kiss.  "Fine," you muttered, watching him grin, "but you'd better not give me rope burn or something." 
He chuckled and grabbed your wrists, clicking his tongue in faux dismay as he gently tied the rope around them.  "Don’t be ridiculous," he quipped.  He leaned over you to tie the other end of the rope to the headboard, and then caught your eye with a cheeky grin, "You can easily get out of it.  I was never very good with knots."
You huffed and tugged at the rope experimentally.  With a little effort, you were sure you'd be able to wriggle out of the bonds, but you were surprised at the fact that you didn't really want to.  You hadn't anticipated that the night would go in this direction, but it was strangely erotic.  You found yourself yearning for more, wanting to see just how far Alfred would take this, just how much you'd let him control you. 
He was still hovering above you, watching you closely.  When you slowly met his eyes, he furrowed his eyebrows and muttered, "You're not in pain or anything, right?  For a moment there you seemed - "
"I like it," you cut in, and he immediately shut up and stared at you in surprise.  After a long moment of utter silence, Alfred slowly began to smile that predatory smile, and you knew what you said had turned him on.  You smirked right back and he murmured huskily, "You like it?  You like being tied down underneath me?"  You laughed and purred out a simple, aroused, "I like it."  And the sight and sound of you admitting it made Alfred swallow back a harsh wave of desire.
"Fuck," he whispered, amazed at how much his own arousal seemed to skyrocket at the current situation.  You giggled and raised an eyebrow.  
"That's a good idea," you murmured sinfully, "I was just about to suggest that you start fucking me.  You're already so hard."  And to annunciate your words, you shifted your hips into his and nearly moaned at the stiffness that was his cock.  Alfred didn't even try to stop his own moan, which spilled from his lips lazily, indulgently.
He inhaled roughly, sharply, and drew back to fiddle with the belt tied around your waist.  The fact that it was his old belt didn't appear to faze him at this point.  He was already so turned on that there was little left that could faze him.  And yet you still had some tricks up your metaphorical sleeve.  
You watch his curse and throw the belt away.  Watched him fiercely tug down your panties.  And when they got stuck on the cowboy boots (that were a few sizes too large), you watched Alfred pout and begin to roughly take them off.  And that was when you stopped him.
"Leave them on," you said, making him stop and stare down at you.  You were a total mess, curtsey of his impatient handling of you.  The leather top you'd been wearing was laying haphazardly beneath you, useless now but still encased against your skin.  You were tied to the headboard but were near naked.  Your panties were down around your shins.  He raised an eyebrow.
"They're too big," he said blandly, like he didn't feel like arguing right then.  He pushed your panties out of his way and peered down at you, "And besides, I'm the cowboy.  You're just…" he waved his hand and shrugged, making you raise your eyebrows dryly.
"I'm just what?" you asked, and Alfred chuckled like he knew he was in trouble but didn't really care.  He began untangling your panties as he slipped them over the boots, leaving them on. 
"You know," he smirked, shoving your legs open when the panties were finally free.  He roughly ground his clothed cock against your soaking core and chuckled darkly, watching your expression turn from annoyed to reluctantly stimulated.  And when he decided you were sufficiently distracted, Alfred muttered something that made your eyes jerk open in something that bordered on ferocious indignation.  "You're my horse."  And that was when you decided that it was high time you got your power back.
"You're horse."  You deadpanned, and he smirked down at you in amusement.  "Yup," he drawled, his voice and face cheeky and completely audacious.  And you scoffed.
"What?  You don't agree?" he asked with a mischievous pout.  He rolled his hips into yours again and watched your eyes fluttered half closed.  Then he brought his hands down to flip down the zipper of his pants and pop the button, suddenly overcome by the desire to free his near painful erection.  As he did, Alfred hummed and smirked down at you, murmuring a wicked, "But I'm gonna ride you.  So that means you get to be the horse."
He pulled his jeans and boxer briefs down.  For a moment, you were utterly distracted by the sight of his cock, which was harder than you could have imagined it to be and oh so ready to be touched.  But then you raised your eyes into his and glared, wriggling your wrists without his notice as you formed a plan of your own.  "You aren't gonna ride me," you said with a shrug, trying not to react as Alfred nestled himself between your legs, pushing his throbbing cock against your equally throbbing core.
He looked like he was about to say something.  He was about to open his mouth, about to ask why you sounded so sure, and that was when you surprised him and set your little plan into action.  Your hands flew from their bonds, your legs hooked around his waist, and moments later Alfred was being pushed down into the sheets, sprawled onto his back.  He stared up at you in total shock, his eyes wide as you jerked the rope around his hands.  And then you laughed and watched his expression turn pouty and annoyed, like a child who was denied something he wanted desperately. 
You rolled your hips into his and he bit his lip, glaring.  "You're my horse, Alfred."  You were positive that he could have gotten out of the loosely tied knot you'd haphazardly made, but ultimately gaining the upper hand was never so simple.  You had your power back and you were determined to hold onto it. 
You lowered your mouth to his chest and started kissing and touching him, dragging your tongue over his flesh like it was your purpose in life.  And when you sunk your teeth into the crook of his shoulder, Alfred cried out in surprise and pain.  He stared down at you and watched as you lapped at the mark that was now painfully throbbing over his skin. 
"Y-You bit me!" he exclaimed, still churning with shock and something else, something that edged along with his surprise and made him want more.  But he would never admit that he was utterly aroused by that move of yours.  You hummed in agreement and went back to kissing over his chest, licking around his nipple before flicking it with your tongue.  He swallowed and inhaled roughly, almost panting beneath you as your hand reached down and gave his member a few fierce pumps.
"Yup," you said cheekily, copying his previous audacity and making him groan.  "My horse needs to be tamed.  You're too wild."  And he glared up at you with a huff.
"I'll show you wild," he muttered, but you didn't hear.  A moment later, you were sinking down onto his cock, slowly drawing his tip into your wet hole.  And Alfred watched with heavily lidded eyes as you tossed your head back and took him all the way in.  You let out a long moan and he gritted his teeth tightly.  And that was when Alfred decided he'd get you back a little.
With a powerful surge of his hips, he bucked into the air and roughly pumped his cock into you.  You gasped and clutched at his chest, scrabbling for a hold as he continued to dominate you even in his submissive position.  He chuckled amidst the sinful arousal and grunted, heaving his thrusts faster, harder as he rammed your hips upward.  It took you a long moment to figure out how to counteract him.  Finally, when his hips bucked up again, you rose yours into the air and off his cock entirely, leaving him panting beneath you.  He pouted.
"That's not fair," you gasped, staring down at him.  He looked wild below you, like rough terrain and mountains, wide sunsets that spanned across endless grasslands, mustangs that ruled those fields and belonged there.  And you decided that you didn't really want to tame him.  You liked him raw, liked those facets of his personality.  You leaned in to kiss him and he was surprised at the soft, lingering movement of your lips. 
"Behave," you whispered to him, smiling gently, and he blinked up at you as though waiting to see what tricks you'd pull out next.  But there were none.  Nothing but making love to him.  Nothing but showing him in so many words that you loved him.  Loved him like the North, the South, the East, the West.  Loved him like nothing else.
You guided his cock back into you, but this time neither of you tried to gain the upper hand.  You just slowly sunk back onto it, filling yourself up with his stiff flesh.  You rested your elbows on the pillow near his head, cradling your hands against his hair and leaning into kiss him.  And he let you, let you handle him in that soft, delicate way.  Let you thrust yourself against his shaft.  And he enjoyed it, he really did, but Alfred didn't like holding himself back in any way, and you were surprised when, moments later, you felt his hands drift over your back.
You lifted your head up and saw the useless tangle of rope above him.  Then you looked back down at him and saw that his eyes were sort of soft, like he had somehow gathered all your loving emotions together and was holding them close to his heart.  He breathed out and lifted himself up onto his elbows, circling one arm around your waist and turning you over onto your back.  Then he ducked his head and kissed you deeply, meeting your tongue with his and sighing against your mouth.
"…Alfred?" you questioned, wondering why he was being so gentle with you all of the sudden.  This entire night had been anything but, and you were surprised at the way he was rocking his hips smoothly into yours with a slow build up of passion.  He buried his head into the crook of your neck and moaned, holding his arm tighter around your waist as he pulled you up against him.  Your eyes fluttered as the tip of his cock brushed deep within you.
He didn't say anything but he didn't need to.  You felt all his words in the way he made love to you.  You felt them all as they were absorbed into your skin, as they sunk into your body and curled up around your heart.  And you gasped and panted and whispered his name as he picked up his pace little by little and brought you to a crashing, halting, beautiful finish.
"Alfred!" you exclaimed softly, your head falling back into the air.  He turned his eyes to yours and watched your expression as you came.  And he kissed you soundly as you unraveled in his arms, thrusting faster as your core tightened and fluctuated around his cock in the most brilliant of ways.  And moments later, when he spilled himself into you and groaned out a long, thankful moan, you tangled your fingers into his hair and brought him back to your mouth, kissing him deeply with everything you had and more.
He was insincerely sincere.  He smiled a lot but didn't mean it, and yet he did.  He was many things that you didn't always understand, and probably never would.  But he was also one thing that you did understand, utterly, completely, because he showed it to you in so many ways that it was impossible to ignore him. 
He was yours.


Extended Ending

"Alfred~" you called, trying to keep the smirk off of your face.  He lifted his head and blinked at you, probably surprised to see you standing in the threshold of his office.  With a laptop in hand.
"What is it?" he asked, leaning back in his leather chair.  He smiled a little at you and you stepped forward, wondering how long that smile would stay on his face.  Not long, you'd wager, and smirked.  "What do you think?" you asked, turning your laptop toward him.  He took one look at the website you were on and deadpanned.  "I thought you should choose which one you liked.  Cause, ya know, you're the horse and all.  And you'll be wearing it."
Saddles.  Everywhere.  He stared.
"You might want to start running," he said, leaning back and loosening his tie casually.  But the gleam in his eye was very real and you'd be stupid not to listen to him.  With a laugh, you put the laptop down on his desk and jolted out of his office, squealing in amused surprise when he followed.  That determined expression was back and you were all too happy to accommodate it into your evening schedule.  If he could catch you, that is~

~~~

7 comments:

  1. The ending was so cute~
    Loved this one. <3

    ReplyDelete
  2. This needs a cowboy America pic XD

    ReplyDelete
  3. Sweet babies that was sexy! ahh i love all your stories they are soo addicting!!

    ReplyDelete
  4. I seriously need more America lemons. This one is so detailed, that's just one of the things I love about this lemon. Keep it up!

    ReplyDelete
  5. oh wow!~ love the ending!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Okay, I need to stop reading so much lemons or I will die that I bleed too much nosebleeds in pure excitement


    ReplyDelete
  7. Oh god I love this one so much

    ReplyDelete