Saturday, February 14, 2015

A Germany Lemon -- Sandpaper

Character: Germany

Fandom: Hetalia

OC: [Name]

Inspiration: Happy Valentine's Day!  Thought I'd post something for Germany.  I also have lemons for England, Thorin, Xanxus, and France in the works so make sure you check back this week

There is nothing like feeling utterly helpless and unable to perform the basic necessities of life.  Not that shaving one’s legs is anything of the sort, but still. 
“I can do it myself!” you mutter, slouching down into the bubbles you’d poured into your bath.  Your face was pink with embarrassment as you watched Ludwig sit on the edge of the tub, fully clothed, with your bare leg propped up into his lap.  He shot you a stern look and continued to drag the razor blade carefully over your skin, his eyes intense with concentration. 
“No, you can’t.  You’re lucky I came in here and stopped you before you cut yourself,” he says firmly, his voice lilting with a heavier accent than usual.  He was right, though you were loathe to admit you own inabilities.  You had fractured your arm several weeks ago and it was still healing.  During your last visit to the doctors, you’d finally had the cast removed and could get your arm wet without worrying.
Though you still had the wear a sling to keep from straining yourself, you were gloriously free and the first thing on your agenda had been to take a bath – something you’d been missing – and to shave.  Living with Ludwig is comfortable but you still like to pay attention to your beauty habits.  Course he wasn’t supposed to come sauntering into the bathroom during the process.
You frown and watch, unwilling to allow yourself to actually think of the situation as anything but horrifying.  And yet a part of you doesn’t think that way at all.  Because there is something very peculiar about having someone you love take care of you, and not shy away from helping with such things. 
Ludwig glances at you, catches your eye, and gives you a little smile.  It’s an odd smile though, and while it reaches his eyes, it’s dark and wicked almost.  You’re confused, until you accidentally shift your leg.  In the process, your foot rubs against something hard near his thighs, and Ludwig gives a tiny shudder and pauses in his shaving.
You stare.  He slowly lifts his eyes.  And then you burst into a blush that he thinks looks rather wonderful on you.  You’re struggling to sit up moments later, blurting out a surprised, “You’re-!”  Then you blush again because you hadn’t meant to speak, and he chuckles.  The next time you open your mouth, your voice is a little calmer.  “Why are you…?”
Ludwig’s chuckle makes everything seem so perfectly natural.  Is it natural to be turned on from such things?  You stare, curious, and shift your foot against his hard-on again.  This time it isn’t an accidental move, and he absolutely knows it.
His eyes flash.  As his fingers slip down your soapy leg to grasp onto your foot, he murmurs a low, scratching, “Careful, love.”  And for some reason you feel your body burst into sharp little shivers as his fingers stroke over your toes.  You never thought feet were very interesting but everything seems to be changing for you in this moment.
You’re not blushing anymore.  You stare at Ludwig and tell him, “I don’t want to be careful.  Do you?”  The simple question is much more loaded than it has any right to be.  And you know what his answer is before he gives it, because his eyes flash with something akin to disappointment.
“It doesn’t matter,” he softly says, and gently lowers your leg back into the tub.  His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, so he indulges in the moment and rubs the soap off of your silky, cleanly-shaved legs.  As he does, he sighs and reminds you, “You’re still hurt.  We’ll just have to play it safe for a while longer.”
You very nearly groan at the frustration of it all.  It’s been weeks since you’ve had sex.  Weeks of all but begging him to just touch you in some way, or to let you touch him.  You know it hasn’t been easy, refraining from this.  But you’re so close.  Surely it wouldn’t be a big deal to indulge now, when you’re mostly healed.
You don’t mean to whine, but before you can stop it you mumble, “But it’s Valentine’s Day.”  God, you’re so very aware that you sound like a complete child.  But it only makes Ludwig smile gently, quietly amused.
“I’d like nothing more than to take you right now,” he says darkly, leaning forward and taking a lengthy glance at you.  The bubbles do a decent job hiding your nude form but it ultimately doesn’t do him any good.  In fact the little coverage only makes him that much harder, for he can clearly imagine every little part of you that is hidden away.  You shiver at his gaze and shimmy up, so that the tops of your breasts are visible.  His eyes immediately move to them and he chuckles.
“You’re making this very difficult for me, liebling,” [1] he mutters.  Beneath the water his hand moves to caress your thigh, his fingers calloused and raw against your skin.  You take full advantage of his slowly crumbling control and reach down to wrap your hand around his wrist.  When you drag it closer to your core, he swallows.
“If you get hurt I’ll never forgive myself,” he says, but you can tell that he’s already given in, at least part of the way, because he wastes no time in touching you.  His fingers curl around your nether region and you shudder at the wispy, dreamy quality of his touch.  And yet something else beckons you on, something that has to do with the glimmer of pain in his own eyes.  You know that lately he’s been dealing with his arousals in his own way while you healed, and you’d very much like to change that habit now.
His hips are level with your head, though farther away than you’d prefer.  It doesn’t stop you from reaching out and smoothing your palm over the bulge of his pants.  Ludwig watches, not complaining, probably because it feels so damn good to have someone else touch him that he can’t even begin to deny you. 
“Take these off, Ludwig,” you say.  You couldn’t possibly do it yourself, not with his position and especially not with your useless arm.  Your order makes him chuckle and push a thumb over the bundle of nerves at the top of your clit, making you moan and sink back against the lip of the tub.  You don’t think he’s being very fair, but then again a lot of things aren’t fair right now.  You’re naked and he’s fully clothed, you’re injured and he’s not.  You tug at the hem of his jeans and he sighs, withdrawing his hand from the water so as to undo them.  When he pulls his erection out of the fabric, you take a few moments to admire him.
He is glorious in ways you can’t possibly describe.  But most glorious of all is the way he makes you feel – all tingling and numb with erotic passion.  The knowledge that he is so hard, and for you, has you melting against the porcelain tub.  But Ludwig only leans forward, tilts your chin up, and presses his mouth to yours.  He inhales your shivers and all your desires, and then he murmurs a gravelly, low, “Your mouth, [Name], now.”  And you shiver all over again.
The smile that edges over your lips is soon put to better use.  You sit up higher, lean forward, and take him against your palm.  His eyes flutter as you get to work, then he lets out the most delicious moan you’ve ever heard when you lower your lips to give him what he really wants. 
It’s a lovely sound and it makes you pound and ache all over again.  You rub your legs together in hopes of easing some of the friction but it’s no use, and so a moment later you carefully ease your injured arm down to better deal with it.  But Ludwig stops you the moment your fingers brush along your inner thighs.  When you glance up at him, those intelligent, bright eyes of his are staring down, seeing everything.  It’s a tiny bit disconcerting, but them again you’re feeling rather shameless.  That probably has something to do with the way his cock keeps disappearing into your mouth.
“Let me,” he whispers, releasing your wrist and immediately delving between your legs.  They shirt apart at his urging, and at the soonest moment possible his fingers are sinking against you, within you, burning over your sensitive flesh and making you slump against his thighs and moan.  His free hand brushes over your hair affectionately as he leans over you, chuckling out a very aroused, “If you suck me harder, I’ll give you more.”  The suggestion is conversational but dark, twisted with the platform of an order, and his words shoulder much more than dying integrity.  That he was giving into his more base emotions isn’t entirely surprising.  What surprises you had more to do with the fact that you like this so much.
But how his fingers burn!  The friction is palpable and shares a border with pain.  Water isn’t the slickest lubricant for this sort of thing and it’s utterly raw, the way his fingers push passion so quickly into you that you can’t help but careen right back, faster and faster and faster…
You take his words to heart: Ludwig is absolutely fair.  And when you suck harder, hollowing your cheeks and pressing your breasts against his knees to take more of him, he rewards you with another burning finger.  And that finger is pain and pleasure and all the dark twisted things between the two.
“Mmm…” you hear yourself moan, because it’s almost too much, that touch.  And your moan seems to have the same effect on Ludwig, because as the vibrations of it travel all over his cock, he lets out a deep breath that seems to burn with a fire of its own.
His fingers clench into your hair and he pulls you closer, just a little.  You know he’s getting closer.  You know because moments later he’s mumbling a desperate, “Can’t hold on much longer, love.”  And you’ve got a feeling that this is because it’s been several weeks since you’d last touched him in such a way.  He hadn’t let you strain yourself in any way during your healing process.
With his cock stuffed into your mouth you can’t very well answer him, so instead your fingers lightly shift over his pants in a way you hope communicates that it is alright.  It seems to work, because not very long after, Ludwig is shuddering delightfully and groaning with such transparent lust that you think for a moment it’s enough to spur on your own orgasm.  But not quite, and as you bring him to his end and try to drag it out for as long as you can, you still pound for him and you know his fingers won’t be nearly enough.
He swallows, gasps, chest heaving as he looks down at you.  Then he smiles and draws his fingers from your core, murmuring, “That won’t do.  Come here, leibling.  Let’s get you to the bed so I can finish you off properly.”  And that conversational tone, bathed in that delicious darkness, had you biting your lip in anticipation and excitement.  He grins wolfishly at you and slips his arms around your wet form, helping you up and then proceeding to dry you off and taking his sweet time doing so.  You hardly have it in you to complain at his pace though: every rough scratch of the towel over your sensitive skin has you leaning closer, crazy for more.
This delirium follows you all the way to the bedroom.  By the time you seat yourself on the edge of your mattress, Ludwig has shrugged his jeans the rest of the way off and is working on his shirt.  When he stands bare before you, you admire the outline of him, all firm muscles and toned heady skin.
“Lay back,” he tells you, and you do so slowly.  He crawls over you, nudges your legs apart, and nestles between them.  A moment is spent dragging a kiss over your mouth before he’s moving on, kissing down your body, licking over your navel and then flicking his tongue abruptly down your core.  You sigh out and look down at him, at the way his head is buried so close to you.  His hair tickles over your trembling thighs, which lay over his arms as he gently entraps you.  The blue of his gaze darts to yours and for a moment, everything is wicked and sinister and the emotion behind that blue makes you wonder if you’re drowning.
But then a moment later, when his tongue slips inside you, you realize the true meaning of drowning.  It is gasping against starchy sheets as heat that isn’t yours pulses pleasure through your form.  It is the high and the low of that pleasure, the dark tints of it clashing with brilliant understanding: that this is the epitome of physical, companionable passion.
His knuckle brushes against you and replaces his tongue, which moves to pay further attention to the bundle of nerves at the top of your clit.  After a moment you feel his finger pushing into you and immediately it isn’t enough, no matter how lovely it feels.  So you whimper, “More…Ludwig, I want more of you…”  And from the way he pauses you know that your words have a rather profound effect on him.
He pulls back to stare at you but doesn’t stop his finger from twisting you to shreds.  You must be a mess.  You feel as though you are at least.  The sight has him swallowing tightly, and then slowly saying in a low and very heady voice, “Nein, leibling.  Your arm – “
“I need to feel you inside me,” you swiftly cut in, knowing that his resolve is shattering.  You can see it in his eyes, in the almost tortured look on his face.  And if that isn’t enough to prove his desires, you can also feel it in the hard, impressive erection that has once again begun to strain against you.  It certainly has been a long time if he already wants more.
You splay your good hand over his chest, then move down to touch his cock.  Whispering heatedly, you murmur, “I want this buried in me.  Please, Ludwig.”
Never underestimate the power of a simple ‘please’.  The sound of it has his eyes flashing, his breath coming harder.  He doesn’t fight it because he can’t, not anymore.  Not when he’s got you fit beneath him the way you are, all breathless and needing him.  His control is already in shambles and he can’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing you hard, rubbing his cock against you and making you gasp aloud.  Your legs drag him closer and the wet heat of you burns him, but it is nothing compared to the feeling of it sheathed around him.
“You’ll be the death of me,” he mutters, his voice ragged and heady.  He’s inside you before you can blink, his mouth still hovering close to yours.  His hips tilt into your body with a gentle-but-firm passion that tells you he’s still very much aware of your injury, but there is also a certain level of abandon in his movements.  Like being inside you is the end-all of everything: his Shangri la.
It doesn’t take long for you to find your end.  You’re coming before you’re ready, but you can’t possibly stop it and you don’t try to.  He grunts when he feels your muscles clench around him, and rushes forward at an almost uneven pace, as if the very thought of you shatters him in a million different ways. 
You cry out with a soft, “Ludwig!”  Your back arches up and your hips tilt toward his.  You aren’t prepared for the surge of ultimate pleasure that crashes through you, and he’s not prepared for the way his body suddenly reacts to the sight you make.
“Scheiße!” [2] he swears, rocking faster, all but pounding you down into the mattress.  His cock scrapes against your inner walls so fitfully that you can only lay there and stare at up him in amazement, feeling so overwhelmed by the lingering bliss that you can barely breathe.  And then he’s coming too, and the sight he makes is even better than all that lovely lingering passion.  His eyes twist into brilliant satisfaction and then he’s slumping down next to you with a heavy groaning sigh.
You turn to cuddle into his side and he pulls you closer, smiling with that satisfaction as he presses his mouth against your hair.  You murmur, “That was just what we needed, I think.”  And he hums in agreement, because it was: the stress and tension of the last few weeks have finally been released, and his body feels weightless and surreal.  Like he’s hardly living in the physical world at all.  But the warmth of your skin splayed against his reminds him that this is the physical world.  And he thinks he’s never been as happy with life as he is now, pressed to your side and reeling from bliss.

[1] liebling … love
[2] Scheiße! … Shit!


  1. Oh O///O

    but the [1] is written liebling and not leibling

  2. AMAZINGLY written so HOT!

  3. I'm so turned on by this...��