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Thursday, September 25, 2014

A Germany Lemon -- Drift, Darling

Character: Germany

Fandom: Hetalia

OC: [Name]

Inspiration: So...I didn't realize I found shaving so attractive until I wrote this.  But anyway.  YES, I've finally broken my almost 3 month silence!  Figures it'd be Germany's kinkiness that would do it.  :3


Before Ludwig entered your life, you hadn't imagined the number of everyday routines with the potential to turn into a kinky mess.  Or maybe you had, but you never would have imagined that they would.  But Ludwig's got this way about him that makes you want to surrender to every strange suggestion he makes.  This particular one is placed a bit lower on the bar than some of his more outlandish ideas.
It is the weekend, otherwise you wouldn't have the time for this.  The late morning sun pools against the bathroom tiles idly, almost consuming the entirety of the little room.  It is bright, vibrant, and oddly sultry.  You still haven't figured out why.  There shouldn't be anything attractive about dragging the edge of a knife over Ludwig's jaw.  But Lord help you, there is something about a man shaving that makes you weak in the knees.  Doing the shaving for him is somehow even more intense.
His eyes are closed and his blonde hair is messily strewn across his forehead.  Neither of you are properly dressed yet: the morning had been slow and sacred, full of gentle lovemaking and the easy banter of two familiar souls.  He is still wearing the soft white undershirt and boxer briefs that he'd pulled on before breakfast.  You are still wearing your short little nightgown and robe. 
Your initial reaction to this strange request had been a bewildered, 'Why?'.  It had seemed odd for him to willingly let you do something so normal, so utterly routine for him.  But now you understand the intimacy behind it.  As you sit in his lap and skim the old fashioned razor slowly up the crease of his throat and chin, you think you've finally realized what you hadn't before: this isn't about being kinky or erotic, it's about trust.  (Though there undoubtedly is a certain level of erotica going on.)
You smile quirkily and give a very light chuckle.  The sound makes Ludwig open his eyes to look at you curiously, and you lean in to kiss the high of his cheekbone where the skin is smooth and soft.  In a low voice, he wonders, “What is it?”  His accent is thick, tired, luxurious, and you suppress a shiver.
With an almost careless shrug, you shake your head and answer, “It’s nothing.  Just … I’m surprised that’s all.”  Surprised that you’re liking this as much as you are.  You wouldn’t have supposed that something as mundane as shaving would rile you up as much as it has.  But you’re aching softly, your body hyper aware of Ludwig and the way he is making you feel.  And you’re surprised at your own willingness to tumble headfirst into another one of his little schemes.  You’re glad you said yes to this one, even though at first you’d been rather skeptical.
You’re sure he’s already aware of what, exactly, you’re surprised at.  (You’re quite verbal with your thoughts of some of his kinkier ideas.)  But for the sake of humoring you, Ludwig murmurs, “Surprised about what?”  His eyes twinkle in amusement and they give him away, but you pretend not to notice.  Instead, you silently admire how he seems to have mastered the art of speaking while shaving, because his jaw barely moves at all.  It makes things a bit easier for you, at least.
You push his chin to the side and drag the blade over the left underside of his jaw, by his ear.  As you focus on keeping your movements gentle and precise, you answer his question in a lazy, idle tone.  “That shaving you is making me ridiculously aroused.” 
He does expect your words, but he doesn’t expect his own reaction to them.  Neither do you, it seems.  But when you catch sight of the soft pink blush spreading over his cheeks, you can’t help but giggle.  He chuckles too, probably because he knows he is being silly, knows that by now, there is no reason whatsoever to be embarrassed about such a thing.  Not when it comes to you.
You snicker and look down at his body, at the gentle bulge in his boxers.  That hasn’t gone unnoticed by you, but this is the first time you openly stare at it.  Ludwig watches you watch him, feeling more resigned than shy, though his cheeks still retain that slight pink.  When your eyes clash with his a moment later, you smirk and say, “Looks like I’m not the only one having that reaction.”  And he smiles, lets out a tiny laugh, and hauls your lower body against his.  Your chest is pressed right to his now, and you’re practically sitting right on top of his erection.  The heat of it scorches through you like wildfire and you have to close your eyes briefly while it momentarily consumes you.
“No, you’re not,” he mutters, voice low and gravelly.  You stare at him for a long moment, overcome by the intensity of his eyes.  Your mouth hovers mere inches away, and it takes all your willpower to keep the distance tangible.  There’s still shaving cream patterned over his jaw, and so after a moment more, you break his stare and reach for the sink.  The razor is placed on the counter.
The chair Ludwig and you are sitting in had previously been pushed up against the bathroom wall, but you had dragged it beside the sink after he thoughtfully suggested the current turn of events.  So lucky for you (and him), you don’t have to stand up to reach the water.  All you have to do is stretch your arm out and reach for the washcloth.  Still, it’s a bit of a stretch, and in order to reach the water faucet, your upper body is pushed very close to Ludwig’s face.  He doesn’t seem to mind.  His hands squeeze your thighs as you snatch the washcloth, and the look he sends you when you meet his gaze makes you weak in the knees.  Good thing you’re not standing.
You don’t comment on his expression as you start to wipe the shaving cream from his face.  There’s not much left, but you take your time regardless, making sure you get every last spot.  When you’re finished, you toss the washcloth back into the sink and turn your attention back to him.  With an almost reverent air, you splay both hands over his cheeks and lean into him, smoothing your fingertips over his newly shaved features.
“I’ve done a good job.  You’re perfect,” you whisper, smiling softly.  He does look perfect.  The sunlight dazzles his skin, turns his eyes to diamonds and his hair to gold.  His looks more like an angel than your lover. 
Ludwig slips his large hands into your nightgown and maps out the length of your back, drifting his touch over every jolt of your spinal cord, every flex of muscle.  His idle rediscovery has you leaning closer, until your breaths are intermingled and unified.  The next course of action is thoughtless, brainless, and it makes your toes curl with pleasure.  You finally close the space between your mouths and kiss him.  He immediately lets out a sigh of relief and responds quickly, his mouth strong and firm beneath yours.
Kissing him makes you feel alive in ways you can’t explain.  Heat licks at your skin, churns through your lower body, has you yearning for an intimacy that has no room for clothing.  You lightly trace the contours of his face, enjoying the rare feeling of completely smooth skin beneath your touch.  It is different, which makes it exotic, which makes you feel as though you cannot get enough of him.  You want to feel every part of him, and so a moment later you’re breaking the kiss in favor of pressing your mouth over his cheekbone.  You skim your nose along his jaw.  You drag his earlobe between your teeth, lick the hollow beneath his ear, leave little bites along his jugular vein.
He’s breathing hard when you slip your hands beneath his undershirt and splay them out over his chest.  So are you.  He hadn’t been idle while you’d been kissing him.  Your robe has been spread open and is now drooping down your shoulders.  His hands haven’t just been exploring your back.  They now cup your breasts beneath your nightgown, which rides up around his arms.  In the back of your mind, you wonder why on earth you’d bothered putting clothes on at all.  You must have known that this situation would have such an ending. 
You hurry to get the robe off.  The fabric creates an entangled web around your upper body and you frown at the struggle.  Ludwig somehow finds it amusing, though, and he starts to chuckle at the petulant sight you make.  After a moment he helps you, forcing the robe onto the floor where it will stay.  You’re about to say something about said force (it hadn’t exactly been gentle, not that you’re complaining), when suddenly his hands are clenching around the hem of your nightshirt and he’s pulling it up and off of you.
You’re left in your panties and nothing else.  An unfair move on his part.  You narrow your eyes at him and slip your hands around his wrists, which are easing up your waist and trying to pull you closer.  He blinks at your rather innocently, but you don’t fall for it.  “Ludwig, that’s cheating!” unfortunately, your voice comes out as more of a childish whine than the sultry scold you’d been going for, and he grins. 
Something must have made him more confident and aggressive than usual this morning (no doubt a result of the things you’d said to him last night, damn it), because Ludwig has a response and then some.  Before you know what’s going on, you’re being pushed up against the bathroom wall and Ludwig is lowly murmuring, “You can’t cheat in love, Frau [1].” 
It really isn’t very fair of him, especially when he’s wearing all those clothes.  But you decide not to worry about it because you happen to like it when he acts all rough.  It’s a delightful little personality trait that he rarely shows in his lovemaking unless he’s feeling overly confident or angry.  You’ve learned to appreciate it when it appears, because it’s ridiculously addictive.
“Well you do it all the time,” you tell him, your mouth bumping against his.  His lower body is pressed firmly against yours and you can feel him, hard and hot.  His hands have tumbled down to squeeze at your rear, and your legs are all but plastered around his waist.  Ludwig gives you a jaunty smile and quickly rolls his hips against yours, making you gasp and toss your head back, unwittingly hitting it into the wall.  The pain that accompanies your reaction makes your cringe, and Ludwig’s smile turns to soft amusement. 
“Perhaps we should continue this somewhere else,” he suggests, reaching a hand up to smooth over the back of your scalp.  You lean forward and murmur, “Agreed.”  And then you’re kissing him, and Ludwig is momentarily lost while your tongue slips against his.  His thoughts turn to ash, cluster together then reemerge as he grapples with all his desires.  The most important one has to do with getting to the bedroom, as soon as possible.
It is with a stumbling incoherency that the two of you falter through the threshold of the bathroom.  The kiss is filled with teeth and bites and it goes right to your head, and Ludwig’s too.  As a result, it takes longer than normal to reach the bed, but you find yourself rather enjoying the challenge.  By the time you land on the mattress, you skin is flushed and all your thoughts bent on one delicious thing.
Ludwig doesn’t immediately follow you.  Instead, he stands by the side of the mattress and busies himself with removing first his shirt, then his boxer briefs.  The time for shyness has long passed, it seems, for he strips himself with a sort of confident zealousness that makes you smirk.  
You push yourself up to your knees and crawl to the edge of the bed, where you lover is standing.  It doesn’t take him very long to figure out what has brought you so quickly to his side.  As soon as your hands splay over his chest and begin to drop downwards, Ludwig closes his eyes and swallows, attempting to prepare himself for what he should already be used to.
But he will never get used to the feel of your hand on his cock, or of the immense pleasure that strikes him down when you begin to pump him through your fingers.  It’s a dry sort of touch, without the usual slickness of sex, but he finds himself enjoying your gentle movements nonetheless.  His eyes flutter open and he leans his head down to your level, wasting no time as his mouth swoops over yours.
You push against him, eager for more.  His fingers tangle into your hair and he tips your head back.  His lips are ferocious, molding against yours with an intensity that leaves you gasping.  You can barely keep up with his kisses, but then you’ve got your own tricks, too.  As he softly sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, you give him a jaunty squeeze and Ludwig immediately moans.  The sound slips from him before he can rein it in, and he closes his eyes tightly as you chuckle.
“Behave,” you tell him with an amused smirk.  He gives you a little glower and nudges his face into your hair, inhaling slowly.  He’s trying very hard not to react to that hand of yours.  He desperately wants to move his hips, push them forward and try to make you go faster, but doing so would mean that you would win.  Ludwig wouldn’t want you to get too over-confident.  Perhaps that is why, a moment later, he is suddenly grappling you up into his arms and throwing you back onto the mattress. 
You’re so shocked that you start to laugh before you’ve even hit the pillows.  Ludwig follows you down with a growled chuckle and rolls his weight on top of you, all but pressing you down beneath him.  You reach for him and, in the midst of all your laughter, he kisses you with a heady vengeance that makes you moan. 
“See?” you ask into the kiss, sighing out and tangling your fingers into his blonde hair.  “You really do like to cheat.”  He looks down at you with a raised eyebrow and says lowly, “That’s not cheating.”  You give him an incredulous stare and laugh, curling your legs around his waist as you quip, “And what would you call it then?”  His eyes glitter down at you and he takes a short moment to think before responding with a smooth, “Enjoying myself.”  He leans down to kiss you and, at the same time, drops his free hand down to your hips and attempts to wrangle you out of your panties.  It’s harder than it looks, with only one hand, so you help him.
As your panties come away, you roll on top of him rather triumphantly and say, “Well then I get to enjoy myself too.”  Ludwig looks up at you, shifts his hands behind his head, and smirks.  When he next speaks, the tone of his voice is almost a purr, which slides across his vocal cords and makes him ridiculously sexy.  “By all means, Meine liebe [2],” he murmurs, and you narrow your eyes at him.
He looks rather nice, laying like that.  With his head in his arms, the muscles of his chest flex upwards.  You reach down to lay your hands over his skin, drifting them slowly over each pronounced ridge, down and down until you’ve reached his naval.  By now, Ludwig is looking at you with dark eyes, as if silently telling you to hurry up.  But his impatience doesn’t show on the rest of his face, and the firm way he sets his jaw makes you feel strangely giddy.  You proceed to ignore his hidden impatience and instead focus on yourself.  Moments later you’re shifting your hips right into his and his hard length is sliding against your wet core.
His self control is commendable.  Ludwig’s only major reaction to your little move is a fast, fluttery meltdown of his expression.  It lasts barely a second, but it is enough for you to see, and it makes you utterly ache as you watch him struggle to get a hold of himself.  He grunts, moves his arms from his head, and shoots you a soft glower as he reaches for you.  His large hands all but encompass your thighs.  He drags you into him, feeling luxurious as your naked skin tumbles over his.
“Now look who’s cheating,” he mumbles, kissing you.  You don’t respond, just grin a little and hum.  It suddenly occurs to you that this isn’t what you want.  Him beneath you, that is.  There is something about feeling dominated that makes you melt from excitement.  You’re left with the urge to see him towering above you, slamming you down into the mattress, and so you pull back.  He looks at you, confused.  His confusion is taken away upon your words, which are spoken sort of soft-like, as if you’re unsure how to say them aloud.
“I want you … on top of me,” you end your proclamation with a little smirk.  Ludwig himself looks rather smug about it all.  His eyes glitter softly up at you, and they seem to have caught afire.  His mouth quirks into a tiny smile that lights up his entire face. 
“Oh?” he wonders, but doesn’t question you further.  Instead, he gently shifts your body beneath his and rolls on top of you.  Once he’s settled between your legs, his hips molding to yours, Ludwig asks quietly, “Is this better?”
You look down at him, at the way he holds his weight up with his arms and the way they flex at the action.  You think there’s nothing better than this: the feeling of such comfortable intimacy, the naturalness of it, the way it’s as easy and as simple of breathing.  And so you nod at him, smooth your fingers over his cleanly shaven jaw and hook them around his neck.  You pull his face down to yours and kiss him, meeting his tongue and sighing out as pleasure hits you full on.
The kiss is slow at first, as if the two of you are exchanging greetings.  It slowly gets faster, deeper, until Ludwig is pulling back only to guide his hard member to your core.  As he starts pushing into you, his mouth comes back to yours and you moan, toss your head back, dig your nails into his shoulders.  God, it feels good after waiting for so long.
He seems to agree.  His voice is muffled when he speaks, but the broken lilt of textured German hints at his relieved, pleasured emotions.  You don’t bother keeping up with his words.  Instead, you just let them press against your skin, just like the rest of him as he pushes you down into the mattress with every firm, well placed thrust.
His hair tickles your cheek.  Your tangle one hand into the blonde strands and press the other to his rear, squeezing his flesh as if in doing so, it will make him go faster.  It doesn’t, but he doesn’t seem to mind the touch.  In fact it seems as though he barely even registers it.  His mind is awash with pleasure that cannot be tamed or categorized.  It is as if some sort of indescribable madness has overcome you both.  The madness is familiar and it wraps around the entirety of you.  You feel him in ways you can’t possibly understand.
He manages to find that one spot that makes you utterly delirious, and the tip of his cock brushes over it and makes you gasp out shallowly.  You clutch at him and he looks down at you, breaking away from the animalistic passion for a moment while he listens to you moan.  “Y-yes, right-right there, L-Ludwig!”  The words are almost indistinguishable, the syllables strewn together to a point of incoherency.  He wouldn’t have needed to understand them anyway though: the desperate tone of your voice give him plenty of insight into what you want.
Ludwig groans, shifts into a sitting position, and pulls your hips into his.  He tosses one leg haphazardly over his arm and then pushes forward again, deeply shoving himself back into you with a force to be reckoned with.  You watch him from below, your hair splayed out over the sheets, your breasts jostling from the movement of his thrusts.  It takes a few moments for him to find that spot again, but when he does you think you’re going to melt.  Your entire body screams for release, melting into a kind of delirium that has you moaning out his name and fisting your hands into the blankets.
Gott [3],” Ludwig mutters, staring down at you.  He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything quite as exquisite as you nearing your orgasm.  The delightful way your face scrunches up has got him rocking faster, intent on finding his own finish.  Hints of release lick at his skin, driving him harder and deeper and he knows he’s bruising you but he can’t stop to care –
You cry out, “Ludwig!” in a luxuriously low voice riddled with intense pleasure, and the sound of it makes him groan.  He feels you contracting around his girth, pulsing as your hips shove forward of their own accord.  Your orgasm rips through your rather furiously and you hear yourself mumbling your lover’s name over and over, as if it is your personal mantra. 
Perhaps it is the sounds you make that push Ludwig to go faster.  Perhaps it is everything, piled together that has him hurtling towards his end.  It doesn’t take him very long to follow you, though and mere seconds later he is letting out a particularly drawn out moan and spilling into you.  The warmth of his release is catastrophically divine.  It leaves you feeling full long after he stops thrusting and simply opts to fall down beside you on the mattress, chest heaving.
You turn to him, watch the way he sighs and blinks over at you.  For a moment, the two of you simply stare at each other.  The he smiles, and you start to chuckle, and then suddenly Ludwig is dragging you into his arms and heaving out a particularly pleased sigh. 
“That was fun,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and snuggling into his chest.  “D’you have any other kinky ideas you want to try?”  You know his answer before he gives it, but there’s something about hearing him say it out loud that makes you exuberantly happy. 
He laughs, real low, and drags you ever closer.  You bare body is pressed diligently against his.  His hands map out your back, drifting over your spine and down to squeeze playfully at your rear.  Then he murmurs, soft but hard, “I have so many ideas I don’t know what we should try first.”  You shiver, his words and his tone having a dizzying affect on your nerves. 
You can’t help but touch him, drag your fingertips over his arm, shoulder, the back of his neck.  There is something so beautiful about moments like these and you want to make the most of them.  So you gently hum and kiss his chest as you whisper, “We have plenty of time.”  Exhaustion plucks at the edges of your mind.  You feel Ludwig’s chest grumble a bit as he laughs and tightens his arms around you.  Against his body, you feel safer and warmer than you’ve ever felt, and it is of little surprise that you are soon falling into a light sleep. 
By the time the two of you get up for the day, the sun has drifted far from its morning perch and is beginning its descent down toward the horizon.

~~~

Translations
[1] Frau … woman

[2] Meine liebe … my dear / my love

[3] Gott … God