Sunday, February 22, 2015

An England Lemon -- Rough And Tumbled

Character: England

Fandom: Hetalia

OC: [Name]

Inspiration: Cause I think Arthur would totally be (secretly) into this…

Arthur wasn’t entirely sure what he was expecting when he came home from work that day.  Maybe a nice hot cup of tea and a relaxing shower.  Certainly not you, curled up on his bed reading a book, stark naked.
He stepped into his bedroom and was at a momentary loss for words, partly because he was just surprised but mostly because the sight of you bare was invigorating.  His mouth hung open and his green eyes widened, and somehow he managed to stutter out a flustered, “What are you doing?”
As if only just realizing he was there, you raised your eyes from the book and glanced at him blankly.  The slow smile that fluttered onto your mouth left him feeling wary, as though he were walking straight into a trap.  A very leggy, delicious trap.
“Oh Arthur, you’re home,” you said, tilting you head to the side and stretching a little.  He swallowed back a sudden wave of desire as he watched, wondering at the catty way you moved.  Were you usually like this or was he just blindly filling in the blanks?  You sat up and crossed your legs one over the other, leaning back on your elbows, “I was waiting very patiently.  I think I deserve a reward.”
He raised his eyebrows at you dryly and began to undo his tie, loosening it and letting it hang off his shoulders as he began to unbutton his shirt.  “Oh really?” he asked, shooting you a wary look.  “Well I’m afraid I can’t indulge you today.  Several important people are coming over for dinner.” 
You chuckled and said, “Don’t worry, it won’t take long.  I’m already half there anyway.”  You waved your hand obscurely and he paused, frowning and blurting, “Really?”  Somewhere in the back of his mind, Arthur was aware that he was being baited, but the thought of you already wet and ready had him breathing shallower, body tingling with the beginnings of arousal.  “…You don’t look it,” he observed after several generous moments of glancing at your body.  Why did he feel so flustered?  It wasn’t like him to jump right into these kinds of situations; he was better, more experienced than that.
You hummed, a half-purr that burred from your throat like violet heather and shimmied dangerously through the air.  Then, before he could possibly prepare himself, your legs spread open and your fingers were slipping against your core in long, even strokes that had him holding his breath, staring with wide dark eyes.  Those eyes followed your every movement, watching with heady, calculating desire as you lifted your wet fingers to your lips.  The soft pink of your tongue darted around the slender digits and all at once Arthur received a rather lovely image of what you’d look like between his legs, licking something that was growing steadily larger with each passing second.
“Yup,” you purred, smirking as your fingers returned to your core, “Now that you’re here, I think I’m more than half gone.”  Oh sweet Jesus you really were.  And speaking of being ‘half gone’, Arthur’s common sense fit into that description quite nicely, because he couldn’t remember why it was so important to go get dinner started or why he really needed to shower and get changed into nicer clothes.
It took him three seconds to cross the room and kneel beside the bed, and then he was clasping your thighs, pulling you close, and sinking his tongue against your core to taste you properly.  You gasped and your head tilted back, legs curling around his shoulders as he licked a long path across your clit, then began sucking on every part of you he could.  It was deliriously perfect.
Your fingers threaded through his hair and you wondered, for a brief moment, if you shouldn’t just let yourself come to that clever little tongue of his.  But you had a plan, and you couldn’t deny that you’d wanted to try it out for a while now.  Been working up the courage to ask, too, and you knew you’d regret not going through with it.  So a few minutes later, you tugged on his hair and murmured a thick, aroused, “Mmm…I love when you do that, Arthur, but there’s something else I wanted to try today.”  And he raised an eyebrow, lips bruised from his ministrations as his tongue darted out to clean the juices off his skin.
“Oh?  What’s that?” he asked, rubbing your leg a little in encouragement.  He had several more kinky passions that he enjoyed and was more than willing to hear what you liked.  It was the mark of a good lover to sacrifice your own pleasure for the sake of the other.  And Arthur liked to think that he was a fairly good lover, probably just as good as France.  Most likely better.
You smiled and swung your leg over his head, shifting until your stomach was laying on the mattress and you were looking at him over your shoulder.  He slowly stood up, swallowing at the sight you made.  Your legs were hanging off the bed, your hips on the very edge of the mattress, and he was getting a very nice view of your rear.  He hummed in appreciation and touched it, sliding his hands over your skin and then haltingly saying, “…You want me to…do it here?”  His finger gently shifted over the area where you asshole was and you started chuckling, shaking your head.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” you smiled, and thought it rather looked like he was relieved.  You didn’t stop to wonder at that.  Instead you bit your lip, wiggled your hips, and said bluntly, “I want you to spank me.”  There, that was better.  It was out in the open at least, and there was no trace of horror on Arthur’s face.  In fact, he looked rather…well, to say ‘aroused’ would be redundant.
“Oh, I see,” he murmured, voice low.  He sighed.  Not an unhappy, fine-I’ll-do-it-but-I-won’t-like-it sigh, but rather a breathless, pleased humming sort of sound.  It was filled with soft excitement and a deep, almost luxurious relaxation, as if he had all the time in the world and liked it that way.
His brought both hands over your butt and propped a knee beside your hips, taking a few moments to just touch you.  Then, when you wiggled your hips again, he gave in and brought a hand down lightly on your left cheek, leaving a very soft lingering pink that blushed over your skin.  You took a deep breath and looked over your shoulder at him, eyes dark and wide and very aroused.  And he stared back, breathing harder as well and then chuckling.
“I never knew you liked this.  Wish you’d told me earlier,” he muttered, rubbing a gentle circle into your skin and then reaching for one of the pillows.  When he returned, he said, “Lift your hips.  And make sure you tell me if I’m being too rough, okay?”  You nodded your agreement and proceeded to lift your hips up, letting him slid the pillow beneath them.  When you settled back down, your lower half was elevated and Arthur let out a pleased hum at the sight you made.  And then his hand came down again, and it was harder this time.
You moaned with surprise and pleasure and sunk your fingers into the sheets, tilting your hips up and panting with every slap.  His touch was a peculiar mixture of gentle and rough, and the pleasure that roiled through you was tinted with delightful shades of blacks and whites and grays that didn’t take solid form, only shifted back and forth like an ocean of escalating desire.
Arthur himself was also finding pleasure in the motions, which surprised him greatly.  Every spank had his member getting harder, aching more acutely.  He was breathless and was actually finding it difficult to only spank you – and not touch you in other places, or run his hands over your body or deal with his own problem.  And well, his drifting thoughts were what ultimately made him come up with a most delightful idea, and he paused in his ministrations to go digging around in the bedside drawer.
“Hmm?  Why’d you stop?” you asked thickly, turning to glance at him in confusion.  But he only sent you a smirking look and pulled out a bottle of lube, upending it and letting it drip all over your ass and lower waist.  You squeaked at the cold liquid but found no other reason to complain as his hands generously massaged the oil into your skin, starting from your waist and moving to your thighs.  And then he chuckled and slipped his fingers between your legs, jolting them over your core very briefly and watching you moan and spread your thighs.
“Uh uh, none of that,” he drawled, slapping your ass again and listening to that delicious moan spilling into the air.  He tsked and, with his free hand, sunk two fingers into your core, twisting them slowly and murmuring, “You’re absolutely dripping.  Does this really turn you on so much?” 
His answer came in the form of a drawn out, hoarse, “Yessssss!”  And he chuckled again, thinking that the sound of you was probably the most erotic he’d ever heard.  And so he did it again, and again, until the whimpering sound of your desire numbed his ears as well as other things. 
Your ass was raw and red.  Every smack of his hand stung you with the most indescribably erotic pleasure.  Every second had your arousal rearing, growing, aching to a point where you felt lost amid the patterned shades of your own lust as it puckered and writhed just beneath your skin.  You were immobile on the edge of that mattress: immobile, blind, and dumb to the world around you.  There was nothing, save for the gratuitous feel of Arthur’s rough motions and the lovely sting of your rear.  It was as if a giant chasm had erected around you and swallowed you into it without your knowledge.
“Arthur…” you moaned, spreading your thighs again.  You ached like you were afire with lust, as if it had merged into your very being.  He looked down at the dripping mess you were and chuckled, moving his hand to lightly slap your core instead.  The rough, unexpected movement had you gasping and whimpering, “Oh!  Arth…ur…” and the sound trailed off as he heaved your hips closer to the edge and ground them against his cock.  His very much bare, freed cock.
You panted, glanced behind you, saw that he was smirking down at you with those shards of narrowed emeralds.  His fingers sunk against your core as if he were idly petting some domestic animal, back and forth as he looked down at you.  But then he paused and told you, “Get on your knees.”  And you smiled, half in relief and half in amusement, for his voice was very ragged and hoarse.
“See? I told you it wouldn’t take long,” you said, shifting into the desired position and tossing the pillow to the side.  Arthur hummed and adjusted your hips, pushing them down to his level and then leaning down himself to press two gentle, lingering kisses to both sides of your rear. 
“I don’t think this will take very long, either,” he muttered, eyes flashing as you looked back at him.  It was quite clearly a warning, but one were didn’t mind upholding.  You merely wiggled your butt, pushing it against him, and grinned lopsidedly, “’S fine.  I’m horny as hell anyhow.”  The unabashed words made him roll his eyes and give you an amused slap on your thigh.  And then he was pushing into you and filling you up in the most basest way, and your back was arching as you let out a shaky, breathless moan.
“That’s good,” you mumbled, shifting your hips a little.  Arthur hummed and pulled out, enjoying the wet sound of his thrusting.  In fact he enjoyed everything about the moment: the scent of sex, the sounds of it, the physical edge that made him feel as if he were weightless, and yet so grounded that he could only stand there and sink into the earth, burdened by desire, hindered by love.  He gritted his teeth and slammed into your harder, unable to find respite even as your tight walls clenched around him.  But he was too aroused, too hard, and it was only until he settled for a swift running thrust that he finally sighed out and felt some semblance of relief.
With relief brought other things, too.  The gentle, static curve of an orgasm floundered beneath his skin, threatening to make itself known if he kept up his hectic pace.  Any other day he might’ve heeded the warning for a more drawn-out approach.  But today there was no time for gentle finishes.  Only the rough net of desire as it captured and dragged him flailing from an ocean of physical obstacles.
“Almost there…!” he gasped, nails digging into your hips, pressing his passion into every touch as if to brand you with it.  But you were already branded, had been for a long time, and in the face of his desire you wilted as well as strengthened: a nonnegotiable truth that flustered you into submission.  It did the same now, with hardly any effort at all.  Because you were already aching, already squirming as you tried desperately to hold your orgasm back, to let the waiting of it rip you to shreds and spin tangible heady relief into your bones.  And so when you heard his voice, the way it was layered with such lust, such need that it was breathless and bare coherent…well, it rather ruined your efforts.
“Arthur!” you gasped, arching, plummeting.  Your end whipped through you like tension snapping.  Your muscles clenched tight around his cock and he let out a hoarse cry at the intense feel of it, eyes watering at the roughness of your finish and the way cut right through him like knives.  It was hardly any surprise when he gasped, leaned over you, and doubled his pace.  No surprise when he came shortly after, your muscles contracting and pulling, pulsing his finish into the most delightful zigzag direction.  And when it was all over, Arthur could only gasp, chuckle, and move to shakily take a seat beside you, his back falling down against the mattress as he tried to catch his breath.
You moved to him, feeling raw and sore but perfectly satisfied.  And, after a few minutes as laying in silence, Arthur gently touched your butt and frowned, “Does it hurt?”  The question was simple and so you answered with an equally simple, “Mmhmm.”  Because it was true, it did hurt, but that didn’t particularly bother you.  It wouldn’t bother you until you had to sit down.
He frowned deeper, “Perhaps I should’ve been more gentle…” 
His hand moved up to your shoulder blades and spun patterns between them.  You glanced at his face, caught his worried eyes, and patted his chest, “Arthur…I feel absolutely perfect.  You were really great.  It felt amazing.”  The reassurance bolstered him as you knew it would, but he still pursed his lips as he looked down at you, contemplating.
And then suddenly he jolted up, eyes wide as he remembered something he really shouldn’t have forgotten.  Something that had to do with a certain dinner party that he was supposed to be getting ready.  “Christ!” he exclaimed, shooting up and grabbing his clothes, then pausing because he really needed a shower.  “I can’t believe I forgot – they’ll be here in an hour and I haven’t even gone to get groceries!”
You watched calmly for a moment, withholding the urge to tell him it was just as well he hadn’t the chance to cook.  Instead you just sighed, moving up to pluck at your clothes, and said after a moment, “You take a shower, you need one.”  You sent him an amused smile.  “I’ll go see about the food.”  For a moment, you stared at each other, and then Arthur moved swiftly to your side and pressed an endearing kiss to your cheek.  “You’re an angel,” he murmured, before disappearing into the bathroom for his shower.
Perhaps ‘angel’ wasn’t quite the right term after the rather rough-and-tumble hour you’d just had, but you smiled anyway.  When his boss’s party did come, the table had been laid out and you’d managed to get a rather nice spread of food from the restaurant several streets down, which had been generous enough to take your last minute order.  The evening ended on that tumbled note, drifting through stone as water might drift through a roughly rounded stream.



  1. I love this one, and TOTALLY something I could see him being into. Secretly. Which makes it hilarious. Absolutely perfect. :3


    1. Hehe ;) Glad I'm not the only one with this kink!

  3. Oh gosh, one of my favorite kinks. Loved it so much!

  4. I'm starting to think the sexy time was a distraction so Iggy wouldn't cook. Great story by the way

  5. Such a turn on omg

  6. .... ovaries.....EXPLODED!!!! ORGASM OVER 90000