Fic: Clear Mornings (America/fem!Japan, NC-17)

[silverfoxflower]

Title: Clear Mornings
Author: silverfoxflower 
Fandom: Hetalia
Genre: PWP, Het, Fluff, Genderblending
Word Count: ~1800
Pairing: America/Fem!Japan
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None, other than realisticish het smut.
Notes: Written for this prompt on the silverfoxflower meme. Also posted here to read/comment anonomously.
Summary: Sakura wakes Alfred up for some early morning sex. Fluffly love confessions.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue.


Sakura awoke warm and comfortably crushed against Alfred’s chest. Outside, the trill birdsong and slow invasion of pale yellow light betrayed that it was early morning, a clear morning by the looks of it.

Blushing even with no one to see it, Sakura thought drowsily to herself that she did not at all … mind being held so tightly. The flex of Alfred’s muscles under her fingers, the warmth he carried, and the strong panes of his body made her body heat and her heart stir from its sleepy rhythm. Hesitantly, she breathed in Alfred’s scent – carelessly masculine with a dash of musky cologne. Here as well was the undeniable smell of sex. Sakura wriggled slightly in her lover’s embrace, remembering the events of last night with a silent thrill.

She had surprised him at the door with his (and hers, secretly) favorite cosplay, played maid to him all night with a vibrator up her skirt, until he had finally jumped her. Their first time was frantic, a bit rough. Then, in apology, Alfred took her the next two times gentle and sweet, told her how lovely she was and how he was absolutely crazy about her. If the maid outfit got that reaction every time, it would be, Sakura blushed behind her fingers, something she was looking forward to trying again.

But now it was morning, and she wondered if it was wrong to be feeling this itch between her legs all over again. But, what could she do? It was so lovely to lie here, watching her dear Alfred’s face as he breathed deeply in sleep. Sakura pressed her burning cheek to Alfred’s broad chest, listening to his strong, sure heartbeat and willing the trembling between her thighs away.

“Hey,” Alfred’s voice was hot at her ear, and she looked up to see him giving her a soft smile, squinting slightly without his glasses. “You’re up early.”

“Good morning, A-Alfred,” She stumbled slightly over the use of his first name, without any safe, qualifying suffixes. “I always awake this early.”

“Mmmm,” Alfred seemed disinclined to reply. Instead, he leaned downwards to press a brief, closed-mouthed kiss to her surprised lips.

Sakura shyly curled closer, angling the soft curve of her hip to his pelvis, a bit shocked when she felt his half-hardness against the bottom of her stomach. Oh, her hand rose to catch his erection in her palm, but at the last minute she realized that she was rather unprepared to be this forward. Instead, her fingers wandered upward to his chin, traced hesitantly the rough blonde stubble angling his jaw – a sharp angle softened by just the hint of fat. The other hand tangled in the hair at Alfred’s nape and she dragged him closer, turning her head up for a kiss.

“Woah…” Alfred clapped a hand over Sakura’s mouth. It was so large that it covered half of her dainty face. Above the line of his little finger were her two dark eyes, snapped wide open in surprise. “My breath is godawful,” Alfred confided. Sakura was mildly grateful he didn’t add, and yours is probably, as well.

Well, if anything the hot press between her legs was worsening now that Alfred was awake and grinning at her, sliding his thigh wickedly against her dampening sex. “Ah…” She breathed, trembling, “A-Alfred…”

“Yeah, baby?” He was going to make this difficult for her. He was in a teasing mood and she didn’t like it one bit. Oh, well, she did, but it was something she could never admit out loud.

“I want you…” She ducked her head, biting her lip. Oh, he was trailing his fingers along the side of her thigh, playing with the backs of her knees … “I-I want…” Tears of embarrassment and arousal welled in her eyes.

“Okay.” Alfred said gently, suddenly, rubbing away her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Sorry.” This man could always be swayed by tears. And he thought Sakura too pure of heart to exploit this weakness.

Most of the time, he was right.

She took his large hand between her dainty white fingers (so strange, the difference, tan and pale, rough and fine) and pressed a kiss to his palm.

“But you’re gonna halfta do the work.” Alfred groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Too early.”

Sakura sighed, because she suddenly had a vision of her taking her as he did last night, rough and wild and uncaring of how breakable he thought she was most of the time. Ah, but this was nice as well, sometimes.

Carefully, she climbed over him, shrugging the warm covers around her shoulders to keep some modem of modesty. Modesty, funny that. Straddling a man and positioning his cock at her damp sex with one hand while keeping the patterned quilt around her breasts with the other. Modesty. Right.

She was tight, even while aroused. It needed to be exactly the right angle. Sakura gave a few slow pumps to stiffen him up completely, and then wriggled until Alfred was snug against her entrance, just of a taste of the heat and wet to come. Alfred groaned breathily, peeking out from under his arm.

She didn’t mean to tease him, she really didn’t. But she had to slide him against the length of her slit a couple of times to make him wetter, to assuage her nervousness about this position. Then she rubbed his cock against her clit, shivering with the sensation. Under her, Alfred hissed and tried hard not to whimper.

“S-Sakura-“ Her name came out strangled, and she barely twisted in time to avoid his hands from gripping her hips.

“No, no, Alfred-san,” She chided. From any other female, her tone might have sounded mischievous, but from her demure stance it was merely the beckoning of a woman eager to please her lover. Of course.

Alfred grumbled, and without preamble, tugged off the quilt and let it clump off the side of the bed. Immediately, Sakura squeaked, reaching for it.

“I want to see you,” Alfred gripped her waist gently, rolling his hips under her in a manner that made Sakura gasp uncontrollably. “I love you, Sakura.”

How can he say it so easily? Sakura wanted to reply the same, but the words cluttered in her mouth and felt too overwhelming to set free. So, quietly, she opened her legs wider and began tugging him inside, hoping that he understood her unspoken language.

+

It was … excruciatingly slow. Alfred wanted to buck his hips and sheath himself in her impossible heat and tightness. He just barely controlled himself by tangling his fingers in the bedsheets. Every soft whimper, every bitten-away moan, revealed that this was just as hard for her.

She was beautiful in the morning light, taking him in with a stretch that was almost painful for them both, her body twisting and touched with sun, her nipples beaded so sweetly in the cold air that Alfred salivated for a taste. Hadn’t she always been self-conscious about her flat chest? Every time his country exported (so to speak) a new blonde, leggy, F-cup celebrity, Sakura would get this look in her eyes that meant that she would passive-aggressively deny him second base for a month. While Alfred was usually one to miss such subtle looks, anything that involved breasts, he noticed.

He wished that she would understand just how crazy he was about her, how utterly and completely in love. She thought that every time he said it, he didn’t mean it. Couldn’t mean it. Like he declared his affection for people every other sentence like … Francis, or something.

He wished she would understand that the twin handfuls of her breasts were sweet and wonderful and sexy as hell. That he fell a little more in love with her every time she brought over a new video game and a bento as well (she would feed him rice and omelets and little sausages shaped like octopi as he played, how perfect was that?). That he was completely wrapped around her little finger and she didn’t even know.

And all this was what Alfred was thinking about while trying to starve off the humiliation of coming when not even fully entered. His hands clawed the bedsheets, twisting them into sweaty furrows. Sakura’s face was not helping, so flushed and vulnerable – eyes closed and mouth opened, sobbing in nonsense Japanese and she completed the last of her slick slide and the creamy warmth of her thighs were tense around his hips.

“Hurt?” Alfred managed to grind out.

Sakura shook her head, too breathless to answer. Then slowly, experimentally, she rolled her hips, grinding her clit against Alfred’s pubic hair. The sensation made the both of them groan. Then, leaning back on her palms, she arched her back and began a tentative rhythm of lifting and falling, riding Alfred in a tentative, teasing rhythm that made the world around him all apart, until there was only her. Sakura was … so tight around him, a perfect fit, a sweet stretch. She clenched as she pulled away, sucking him hard, and relaxed as she pushed back in.

Alfred wanted to kiss her, but the morning breath was a very real thing. So, he settled for bracing his heels and attempting to match her movements, eyes intent on every inch of her glowing skin, her rosy nipples, her shyly pleasured face, as if burning this moment into memory.

The words love you tumbled out of his mouth more than once, as well as Sakura’s name, and other syllables decidedly less coherent. She started fucking herself on his cock in earnest, curled just right and so tight it was almost unbearable. When Sakura’s fingers trailed downwards to touch her clit in its soft nest of pubic hair, Alfred gave a strangled moan and came at the sight alone.

He was barely aware of her working herself over with her own hand, firm and a bit desperate, her bottom lip caught in her teeth. “Baby,” he called her, urged her along. She came with a wail, and he caught her easily as she fell, pressing her close and covering her face with kisses. “Thank you, oh god, thank you. I love you Sakura.”

Sakura was silent for so long that a sharp, smothering pain registered in Alfred heart, as it did every time when she politely accepted his confessions. Just when he thought it would be necessary to tell an awkwardly unfunny joke just to dispel the tension, Sakura turned to him and whispered, “I love you too, Alfred.”

He looked down in shock, and she blushed. But she didn’t stammer or take it back.

Outside, it was a clear morning. The kind of morning when good things happened.