Tuesday, January 20, 2015

An Estonia Lemon -- Chilled Tea

Character: Estonia

Fandom: Hetalia

OC: Anastasia, short Auburn hair, sassy, likes to tease

Inspiration: Just pretend that Estonia and the others still live with Russia, m’kay?


Estonia has many talents.  They mostly revolve around technology.  Social graces apparently skipped over him when he was born.  That’s okay.  It’s not like he needs or wants to talk to girls anyhow –
“Eduard,” a voice calls, capturing his attention and ruining his attempts at staying in the shadows.  He tells himself that he shouldn’t be surprised.  Because regardless of whether or not he has social graces, that woman will always be there to call him out.  Even years since their first meeting, Estonia is unsure if this is a good thing or not.
Anastasia is hard to describe and harder to decipher.  She is not like his computer codes: there is no rhyme or rhythm to her personality.  She can be cold one minute and hot the next.  Her lack of consistency should by all accounts perturb him, but for some reason he finds her intriguing.  And scary, too, but then this sort of thing always scares him.
He turns abruptly in the opposite direction.  Russia’s house is eerily quiet.  While this happens to be fairly normal, it’s also a little frightening.  Why he has to be the one who randomly runs into her, he cannot fathom.  He can only wonder at where the others could have gotten to and why he always seems to get into these situations.
A hand wraps around his wrist like a vice and drags him back.  At once, his entire body stiffens and then goes slack.  Her touch does silly things like that.  It makes him want to run away in fear; it makes him want to be as close to her as possible.  His heart is doing loop-da-loops in his chest.  Suddenly he’s having trouble breathing.  The tray of cold tea in his hands (which he just took from Mister Russia’s empty study) shakes as his emotions are made visible.
Her smile is a strange and scintillating mixture of amusement and dominance.  Her eyes are twin predators that hold him down.  No, he can’t move.  He will forever be stuck beneath her gaze, struggling with the confusion of his own feelings and wondering at the way she seems so gentle and yet so fierce at the same time.  He doubts he will ever figure her out.  He isn’t sure if he even wants to try.
“Eduard,” she says again, but this time her voice is a purr.  He shivers and she smiles.  “What’s wrong?” she asks, and he suddenly wants to laugh.  What’s wrong?  Try the fact that he can’t so much as think whenever she’s around him (a highly crippling matter for any self-respected genius).  What’s wrong indeed.
He’d so like to tell her that.  Or maybe not that exactly (how dreadful it would be to openly admit such a thing), but something along those lines at least.  But unfortunately all Eduard can manage to say is a stuttered, appallingly mortifying, “N-n-nothing’s wrong – “   He cringes and cuts himself off from further embarrassment.  Why does it always have to be him that she has to run into?  
But Anastasia does nothing that he expects her to do.  She doesn’t laugh at him or make any gesture that hints at amusement.  For some reason, he is more grateful for this than he can begin to fathom, and he clears his throat and tries to say, more calmly, “Are you…uh, here to see Mister Russia?”  God, he wants to die.
This time, she does smile, but it’s the soft kind.  The kind that Eduard rarely sees on her face, because it’s so gentle and endearing that perhaps she is afraid of the emotions behind it.  But tonight she doesn’t seem afraid.  Tonight she wears this smile boldly, brilliantly, and Eduard thinks it’s lovely.
He thinks a great many things are lovely about her tonight.  He thinks her simple dress is lovely.  He thinks her hairstyle is lovely.  He thinks the way she looks up at him is lovely – oh, but she’s looking at him with those eyes again, and he has no idea what they mean or why his body immediately starts to warm up at the sight of them –
“Are you alone?  I’ve been walking around this place for a while, but couldn’t find anyone,” she explains.  Her words, the way she answers his question with a question of her own, it is all so typical of her.  Eduard sighs and goes to put the tray down on a nearby side table.  The hallway that they are in is lush, with thick carpets and warm tones of reds.  Russian paintings line the walls.  The pillars are etched with Russian carvings.  Everything is Russian except for the two of them, they who are an inconsistent but somehow welcome change.
“I suppose I am,” Eduard tells her rather reluctantly, turning away from her and fiddling with the teapot just to give himself something to do.  He’s never quite sure about himself whenever she’s around him.  Does he like her company or not?  Does he want her to stay or not?  Sometimes he doubts he’ll ever truly know.  The thought disparages him. 
He is in the middle of peering into the teapot to gauge how much cold tea he will be throwing away (God he feels so awkward) when [Name] suddenly purrs out a strangely enchanting, “That’s good.” 
He frowns at this, of course, because he can’t imagine what’s so good about being alone with him in this great mansion.  Surely she must have other things to be doing, other people to be seeing.  He is really not at all important and a woman like her has to have other engagements on such a pleasant day –
Her fingers suddenly curl around his elbow and it burns him.  Eduard stiffens and glances over his shoulder at her, but he hardly has the chance to see her face before she’s leaning into his back.  Then her arms are wrapping around his chest and she’s pushing her entire body against his, and fuck it all to hell but Eduard can’t remember how to breathe.
“W-w-what – “
“I was hoping you’d be alone,” Anastasia murmurs, and he shivers because her voice is like sex, all musk and headiness, and Eduard is really terrible at things like that.  But oh, there is something so very sinful and delightful when she pushes herself into him like that.  Perhaps she doesn’t intend to do it, but Eduard can feel parts of her that are making his hormones absolutely rage.  It really isn’t fair.
This has never happened to him before.  No woman has ever wanted him, at least that he can remember.  He has lived his life happily alone, not at all inconvenienced by the lack of female company.  Or if he was, he convinced himself that he didn’t need anything like that in order to be happy.  It’s worked successfully thus far, but suddenly he is questioning those old disciplines.  In any case, he doubts it will be easy to convince himself of anything after this experience.
“Anastasia, w-what are you – “
Her hands are moving, sliding over his chest, up and down in a caress that makes his entire body melt.  His fingers clench down on the side table and he tries to recover some semblance of his old self, but he cannot.  He is lost.  Lost to the delicate way his heart flutters, lost to the pleasure that a simple touch can bring. 
“I’m a very patient woman, Eduard,” she suddenly says, lifting her head from his back.  Cold rushes over the warmth of her touch and Eduard swallows thickly.  He doesn’t dare move.  Doesn’t dare do anything except stand there and try his best to get control over his traitorous body.
Anastasia smooths her hands over him again, this time ducking a little closer to his trousers.  When he shivers again, she smiles a smile that he can’t see.  When she goes to unbutton one of the fastenings of his shirt, Eduard inhales sharply and snatches her hands quickly, pressing them against his abdomen to stop her from doing anything else.  The action only makes her more amused, though she won’t show it.  She has more important things on her mind.
“Anastasia, th-this is really too much – “
But it isn’t and they both know it.  Eduard can’t stop himself from selfishly wanting more, because his body is reacting to her touch in ways he can’t possibly stop.  She doesn’t plan on doing anything but continuing onward, because she’s waited years for this moment and wasted many daydreams wondering what it would feel like, being with him.  Stopping would be just as sinful as continuing on.
“Oh?” she pauses anyway to hesitantly ask, “Do you want me to stop, Eduard?”  The way she says his name drives him crazy in ways he can’t even begin to understand.  He desperately wants to tell her yes, but something stops him and all he can manage is a halting, “…I…I, uh…”
Anastasia deciphers his stuttering the way she wants to, and shrugs, “Then I’ll keep going.”  And Eduard wonders at the way his body surges with relief at these words, as if the very thought of her stopping terrifies him.  What terrifies him even more is the surge of eager anticipation that he feels when she turns him around.
His back hits the table’s edge and he gasps in surprise.  Everything happens so suddenly that Eduard can barely keep up.  The world is moving around him but the only thing that registers within him are Anastasia’s hands running over his chest and her lips abruptly careening close to his.
That is when the world stops, tired of the spinning and the anticipation.  Eduard stares at those lips with dreamy confusion.  [Name] stares at him with a raised eyebrow.  Her mouth flutters over his skin, like a butterfly’s wings, so lightly that he wonders if it really counts.  Apparently it doesn’t, because the next moment has [Name] asking, “Should I kiss you, Eduard?”  God yes.  And no.
Does he want her to kiss him?  He isn’t sure.  Has he wanted her to kiss him before this moment?  The lines of their relationship are suddenly hazy, blurred from the headiness of the encounter.  If he had wanted this woman in the past then he hadn’t known it, at least not as strikingly as he knows it now.  Because he does want her.  In this moment, he’d wants little else.
He doesn’t respond in words, but she can see his answer build within his eyes.  Her hands slide against the fabric of his shirt, clutch at his sides.  She pushes her chest against his and decides in that moment to stop asking questions and just act.  He has had plenty of opportunities to push her away and he hasn’t taken even one of them.  Which means of course that he has no intention of pushing her away and wants her to kiss him.  So she does.
The kiss is hot and smooth, and Eduard sighs against her mouth as his body relaxes in silent pleasure.  Seconds pass and suddenly Eduard is shifting, his hands are cupping her face, sliding into her hair, tipping her a little to the side and deepening the contact.  It is such a surprising move that Anastasia makes a pleased, breathless sound against his mouth and feels her body flush with delight. 
She kisses back fiercely, but allows him to hold onto the power and the movement of their lips.  She never would have expected Eduard to take control in such a manner.  She wonders what else he will surprise her with.  The thought warms her in more ways than one, but that warmth is far from satisfying for her.
Her fingers are at his shirt before Eduard can follow her, and suddenly cold is lurching against his skin as the fabric is dropped away down his arms.  He pulls back with surprise to stare at her, eyes wide and cheeks blushing.  He had not anticipated such a turn of events, though perhaps he should have.  It’s just like her to take him so off guard.
She purrs up at him with wide eyes of her own, but the only surprise in them centers merely around the fact that he is more fit than she had expected.  She runs her hands down his chest and watches his eyes flutter at the pleasure of her touch.  They open wide again when said touch lingers at the edge of his trousers.  He stiffens against the table and waits for her next move.  Inside, a fierce battle rages as he wonders what he actually wants.  Sex and her, or returning to the familiar?
He waits too long, as usual.  But he can’t help it: his mind is a messy twist of confusion that often leaves him feeling unsure and hesitant around her.  So all he can do is watch with baited breath as she slowly retracts her hands, turning instead to her own clothes.  Relief crashes through him, but it is mixed with something he can’t explain.  All he knows is that a part of him wants her to continue, wants to see her bare, wants to be the one to make her eyes light up with passion.  It is a frightening thought.
She takes a step back and her eyes slowly take him in.  Coldness lurches through him and he shivers, though he’s not sure if the reaction is from the temperature of the room or the heat of her eyes.  He hardly has time to wonder at the answer though, because as her eyes continue to dip down his form Eduard is suddenly very aware of the bulge in his trousers, and he stiffens in concern and embarrassment.
But as she looks at it, there is no judgment in her eyes.  There is only a strange sort of delight that makes him both relieved and confused, two emotions that apparently run hand in hand wherever she’s concerned.  Does it really excite her so much to see him like this?  The thought baffles him, but he doesn’t question it.  Time keeps slipping through his fingers and before he can grasp at it, Anastasia is tugging at her dress.  The fabric pools at her feel a moment later, and Eduard stares.
She tilts her head to the side and stares back, exuding a confidence that he can’t even imagine possessing.  But she does, and she shows it even when she’s standing half naked in underwear that leave very little to the imagination.  Very little indeed.
Her bra is practically transparent, made of off-white lace that drags over her breasts daintily.  Her panties are made of the same material, and skim high up over her thighs.  The tables are turned now.  Eduard is the one staring at her, and she is the one searching for judgment.  Of course there is none.  There is only reverence in his eyes, and it makes Anastasia smile.
She steps out of the circle of the dress and moves back to him.  Eduard watches warily, swallowing back a wave of desire as she reaches for him.  Her hands once more tumble over his bare chest, and after a moment she moves to take his wrists.  He’s not sure what to expect, and has to hold his breath when she puts his hands around her waist.  Her bare waist.  His eyes flutter closed and he inhales, hesitance reigning through him.  And all the while Anastasia watches, and decides that she’d better do something about said hesitance.
“I’m going to tell you a secret,” she murmurs, returning her fingers to his body.  Her thumbs brush over his nipples and she watches his reaction float across his face.  But at her words, Eduard peers at her, and she purses her lips before whispering, “I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time now.”  The admission startles him, and he can’t answer, for his words are stuck in his throat.
That’s okay.  She doesn’t need to hear his answer anyway.  She can see his response in every move he makes, every shift of breath.  And when she lowers her hand down to cup his clothed erection, Anastasia finds that the silence is perfectly acceptable.  Because into that silence, Eduard lets loose a breathless moan that threatens to shatter her well-placed control.
He immediately blushes, embarrassed to have made such a sound.  But Anastasia only smiles and gives him a gentle squeeze, enjoying the feeling of his hardness against her palm.  She rubs her fingers over his erection and watches his eyes flutter.  And with every second he is surrendering.  She can see it very clearly and it excites her.
His voice a ragged whisper, he says, “You can’t have.  Why would you want me?”  It takes her a moment to realize that he is finally responding to her previous admission, and Anastasia looks up at him.  Her fingers drift to the edge of his trousers, running up the zipper and curling around the hem.  But even though her movements are teasing, her eyes are very serious as she considers his words.
“Why wouldn’t I?” she asks, almost sounding surprised.  The sincerity of her tone has him staring, feeling rather surprised himself.  She shuffles closer, running her hands over his sides, and says with a smile, “You’re smart, handsome, and honest.  And besides,” her smile turns cheeky, “I like a man with glasses.”  He couldn’t help but laugh.
“You like me for my glasses?” he chuckles, feeling oddly comfortable now, even though they are both half naked and very aroused.  But for some reason it suddenly feels natural, talking to her, laughing with her, all the while struggling with desires that threaten to knock them breathless.  And so he finds himself smiling down at her, at all that lovely cream lace, at those astoundingly long legs, and thinks that it’s okay that this is sudden.  Love very often is.  And from the way she is looking at him, he thinks that it isn’t na├»ve to believe that love has a part to play between them.
She bites her lip and mirthfully tells him, “Among other things.  Would you like to hear them?”  It is a flirty question that makes Eduard tense, though not due to the same discomfort as before when he was trying to pull away.  This time he is surprised to find that he would like nothing more than to do the opposite.  Because watching her pull her teeth over her lip makes him feel a very strong, shocking need to kiss her.  He shivers, catches her eye, and whispers a hoarse, “Yes.”  He really would.
She smiles indulgently and leans up, arching her body along the length of his.  Soft lace drags over his chest.  He can feel her taut nipples through the thin cloth and it makes another harsh wave of anticipation tumble through him.  Her mouth grazes his neck and he can’t breathe.  All he can do is clutch at her, tighten his hands around her waist and drag her closer. 
Against the skin of his neck, Anastasia murmurs, “I like your style.  The way your clothes make you look.  And the way you look good regardless.”  She playfully nips at him and he swallows.  Her lips immediately follow the movement of his throat, tongue flicking out to accompany her kisses.  Her hands skim over his back, from the base of his neck to the end of his spine and back.
“I like the way your eyes light up when you get near a computer,” she chuckles at this, as if she finds it very endearing, and Eduard smiles.  Her lips duck down his chest to brush over a nipple, and he immediately clutches her harder.  The way her tongue shifts over such a sensitive part of him has him biting his lip hard.  He had no idea how much pleasure could be garnered from such a simple touch.  It would be one surprise of many that day.
Her hands drift back to the front of his trousers, though he hardly notices.  He does when he feels her begin to undo them, and his eyes jerk open to stare at her, once again overcome by hesitance.  The majority of his worries are put to rest when Anastasia kisses the area just over his heart and tells him, “But most of all, I just like you, Eduard.”  But even as he smiles shakily down at her, he finds that he is nervous.
It is an expected emotion, especially around someone you care for and respect.  But there is little to worry about.  Because when she slides the trousers away and slowly kneels before him, there is only admiration in her eyes.  Admiration and no small amount of lust.
She reaches for him and Eduard tenses, his cheeks red.  He is so far out of his element that he can only stand there and try to remember how to breathe.  It isn’t as easy as it should be, but then again he thinks that’s to be expected as well, especially when Anastasia leans forward to press her lips against his tip.
He thinks it’s the most erotic sight ever, her kneeling in front of him, mouth on his erection.  But then she blows that image out of the water when she smiles up at him and opens her lips, taking several inches of him inside her very hot mouth – and sucking.
“Mu Jumal!” [1] he gasps, arching his back and gripping the edge of the table tightly.  It is a sensation like no other and he can’t even begin to understand it, because Anastasia doesn’t stop there.  She takes more of him, takes him so far that her nose brushes the pattering of hair at his base.  And that’s when her fingers also make a reappearance as they slide gently to the underside of him to massage what areas her mouth cannot get to.
His hips jerk forward but she takes it all into stride, pushing him back down against the table.  He stares at her, watching every move she makes, the way his cock appears and disappears into her mouth.  And every suck, every gentle stroke of her fingers has him gasping and reeling, his mind sparking out, his body thrilling with tension.  He’s going to come. 
How Anastasia seems to know this is beyond him, but moments later she is pulling away, sliding her lips off his erection slowly and giving him one last playful suck on the tip.  His eyelids flutter and he rushes to catch his breath.  He is both disappointed and relieved that she’d stopped before his orgasm.  The duality of his emotions leaves him feeling almost exhausted, even when he knows this is far from over. 
Anastasia stands, graceful as ever, and looks at him.  He wonders what she sees.  She must enjoy whatever sight he makes, because a moment later she is taking his hand and pulling him behind her, and he is stumbling along, feeling numb from all the pleasure and finding it rather difficult to walk straight as a result.
He’s not entirely sure what she’s planning.  All he really knows is that they’re soon entering a darkened room and she’s closing the door behind them.  He watches while she pulls away to drag the heavy, floor length curtains open.  The gentle light that streams inside is more than welcome, if only because he can see her face much better now.
The room is furnished with several couches and upholstered chairs, but it’s fairly obvious that no one has been in here in a while.  A light layering of dust has collected on the surfaces.  With the endless number of rooms that already need cleaning, it is no wonder that this one has been overlooked.  Perhaps it’s just as well, Eduard thinks as he watches Anastasia sit on one of the couches.  She crosses her legs and turns to him.  The way her eyes sparkle at him tells him that she has many things planned before she is finished with him.  Surprisingly, he finds that he is perfectly fine with that.
“Come here,” she says, her lips curving up into a smile.  Anticipation plucks at him, moves him forward thoughtlessly, and when he sits down beside her she catches his eye with a cheeky grin.  It probably has something to do with the fact that he is stark naked and she’s close to it, and they must make quite a sight sitting side by side.
She soon rectifies that.  A moment later Anastasia is slipping her leg over the both of his and straddling him.  Her fingers curl into his hair and she tips his head back, leaning down to kiss him.  It’s a short kiss, because into it she whispers, “Now it’s your turn, Eduard.”   And he opens his eyes to stare at her, confused at her meaning.
She fixes that, too, when she reaches for his hands and brings them up to cup her still-clothed breasts.  “Touch me,” she murmurs, her voice inviting.  She squeezes her fingers around his and watches him blush.  But he doesn’t pull away, and after a moment of this innocent handling, she quirks a smile and says, “You can take it off, you know.”  Because he’s undoubtedly gained that right by now.
His eyes jerk up to hers.  “A-ah…can I?” he wonders hesitantly.  Then slowly, like he’s approaching a wild animal instead of a lover, Eduard peels back the cloth and eases it up her breasts.  She helps get the rest if it off, pulling the bra over her head and tossing it somewhere behind her.  And all the while Eduard stares, reaches for her and cups one soft breast with his hand.  He swallows, feels his member stiffen, wonders how his desire could possibly get any deeper.  And she leans forward and silently draws his head closer, inviting him in.
His tongue hesitantly drags over her and she sighs.  His gentle ministrations get more confident and his hand joins his mouth, smoothing over her other breast.  He kisses the valley in between and then slides his tongue up it, hardly thinking about his actions.  He needn’t bother thinking about them though, because he’s a natural.  The revelation is surprising and intriguing. 
Anastasia kisses his hair, his forehead, his temple.  He raises his eyes to her and she whispers quietly, “You’re perfect, Eduard.”  The compliment makes him flustered but pleased nonetheless, and bolsters him from all the flaws he believes himself to have.  There is no need of those self-imposed flaws now.  She will help him shed them if she can.
“But Eduard…” she takes his hand and lowers it down her body, murmuring, “I want your fingers somewhere else now.”  The blush is back, but it’s filled with something else.  Desire.  A need to touch her.  And so he lets her guide his hand, then slowly dips his fingers around the curve of her core, sinking against that lace and wondering at the heat of her.
Her reaction is immediate and beautiful.  He watches her moan, tip her head back, press her breasts against him.  And when he slides his finger around the edge of the fabric to feel her better, Anastasia breathlessly sighs his name.  He thinks he’s never heard anything so wonderful in his entire life.
“Don’t stop,” she tells him, the edge of her voice all but begging.  He doesn’t, partly because he needs to hear more of that pleading voice, partly because the wet, hot feel of her is making him ever harder and it’s amazing.  He finds himself breathless too, even though he isn’t the one being touched.  But the way she clings to him, shifts her hips to feel him better, pants against his neck, it’s all making him crazy too. 
She cups his face and brings him in for another kiss, and while he’s distracted by it she brings one hand down to touch his aching member.  The feeling of her fingers curling around him has him gasping, moaning against her mouth.  But it doesn’t end there, because then suddenly she’s bringing him ever closer, brushing his hand away from her and replacing it with the tip of his cock. 
The next few moments are blurry at best, but ridiculously amazing.  She sinks down, taking him into her.  It’s fairly easy to do so, considering how blissfully wet she’s gotten.  Eduard sighs out a ragged sort of sigh and holds her closer, kissing her harder.  She returns the kiss with equal force and at the same time shifts her hips, dragging his length out and then slamming back down.  The action leaves him miles behind, hanging between two realities that don’t really add up but don’t have to.  Love isn’t logical.  It doesn’t have to make sense.
But it does make him crazy, is it is often apt to do, and he sinks down against the couch with a dragging moan.  Their kiss dissolves and Anastasia buries her head against his neck, focusing only on the movement of her hips.  He burns her up inside, the heat of their coupling a dazed sort of beauty that she can’t bother putting to words.  All she can think about is the warmth of his body against hers and the fact that this is actually happening.  She has pined over him for ages and now her daydreams are finally coming true.
“An…Anastasia, I think…” his voice is breathless, weak, filled with a desire that makes her moan.  She rushes forward, circling her hips around his cock and taking him deeper.  Their eyes clash and she brushes back a strand of his hair, coming closer and resting her forehead against his.  There, in that position, their breaths mingle, their bodies shake, their finishes rush to greet them.  She whispers, “Okay, it’s okay Eduard,” and they fell.
Beautiful, Eduard thinks.  He watches her expression and sighs, letting the intensity of their ends drag over them.  She moans and closes her eyes, her hips still moving.  When she next opens them, her eyes are glistening and she looks even lovelier than before.  He quirks a smile and she chuckles, a throaty hoarse chuckle.  Then she comes closer, wraps her arms around his shoulders, and sinks against him.  He returns her embrace with a sigh, not ever wanting to leave this position.
But they have to, and soon Anastasia is shifting away, dragging herself off of his member and instead moving to lie down along the length of their couch.  He raises an eyebrow at her and she chuckles.  He thinks she looks even better like this, all spayed out for him, and quickly goes to join her.  The hesitance is gone from him.  He doesn’t need it any longer.  Perhaps he never really did.
Together they lay on the couch and bask in the sunlight and each other, duties and chores gone from their minds, cold tea still waiting outside amid the husk of their love.

~~~

Translation:
[1] Mu Jumal! ... My God!

4 comments:

  1. Great job! Glad to see a fandom I know, haha~
    Even though I don't know much about Estonia XD

    This seemed a bit different than your usual writing style, and even though I prefer your other one, this was a great read.

    It's always interesting to see this from the guy's perspective~

    hey, great job!

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  2. Hey :) I'm a new reader of your writing and I have to say I'm hooked :) it's so amazing and addictive and I just love the detail and how emotion us mixed with pleasure..I'm new to this and I wanted to ask you if you could for a request, (pretty please) I wanted to make a deviantart account but they won't accept me
    And I don't have a hot mail..so don't exactly know how to request properly..but anyhow thank you again and :)

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  3. I don't like Estonia that much but you made me like him! ☆

    ReplyDelete