I do not own Hetalia or its characters.
(WARNING: M-rated drabble for sexual content—as well as implied past non con. Do not read this chapter if you don't like such stuff. I take no responsibility for your horror if you weren't prepared. If you flame in the review section because you don't like the drabble, I'll refer you to this disclaimer and probably a few legal Latin terms. One of which being: volenti non fit injuria—meaning, notion that a person cannot bring a claim against another for injury, if said person willingly placed themselves in a situation where they knew injury could result XD. Don't say I didn't give fair warning. THIS IS NOT AN AU PIECE.)
Corrupted Love
Exhaling slowly, Gilbert shrugged the dead weight on his shoulders to the bed—Arthur had gotten drunk again, and the Prussian had to carry the inebriated pirate back to the ship. Thankfully, the sandy blonde's crew was at the moment on land; having got the permission from their captain to leave the ship and enjoy their brief time away from the sea—at least until the latter's siren call grew too powerful to ignore. "I honestly wonder what will happen if I simply left you at the tavern sometimes." The albino grumbled, sounding exasperated and somehow, a tinge of grudging affection. Part of the priest wondered what on earth had happened to make the other want to drown his sorrows in alcohol—a strong, growing empire; there was nothing more the British avatar could possibly ever want: power, wealth, respect—Gilbert could not see anything that the other lacked. The cleric had been dragged away from his night shift in the infirmary when he was alerted to a brawl involving a "foreign gentleman of rogue demeanor, wearing a rich, red coat with gold brocade" and a patron by a panicked citizen; reason being was that when said foreign gentleman was around, he was often seen with an albino priest. It did not take long for Gilbert to settle the matter, having been a knight; it took an uppercut to snap Arthur's head back and two fast, precise blows to the celiac plexus—and the pirate was out cold. He was not particularly worried; Arthur would only feel sore around his torso, seeing that he was a nation avatar and a powerful one at that.
Which was why, his clothing in disarray, the pirate opened his eyes and watched the Prussian lazily, like a hungry cat gazing at a mouse. "Tipsy. Not drunk." Arthur smirked, his lips stretched in a leer. The anger, irritability and annoyance displayed on Gilbert's face only made the Brit feel happier and also stir a more primal beast inside him. "So eager to leave…?" Emerald orbs observed the Teutonic priest who had turned on his heel and was ready to leave the pirate ship for his home. "Well… would you mind allowing me a final dance with you, luv?" The words were whispered in a deceptively soft tone; on the sandy blonde's face, a grin replaced the previous smirk whilst green orbs sparkled with a predatory light.
Mouth opened to shoot back a retort, Gilbert turned, wanting to give the persistent pirate a curt farewell. However, the instant he faced the bed, his lips were crushed against Arthur's in a hungry kiss—filling the albino's mouth with the taste of rum and nose with the scent of the seas. Calloused hands grabbed the priest by the waist, pulling both their bodies close to each other before tossing the latter to the bed. Sitting lightly on the Prussian's legs to prevent him from getting up, the Brit pinned the other's wrists to the mattress and slammed his rough lips on faint pink ones, muffling any objections or curses the albino had. Brilliant green eyes bored into crimson red, the former burning with a dark lusty fire. The albino's knee connected with the other's groin and the former swallowed, feeling the tightness in that area; Arthur was not only drunk, but aroused as well.
All Gilbert could do was glare; his body felt frozen under the vice-like grip of the Brit and anything he tried to say was turned into a series of incoherent sounds. The sandy blonde did not let go of his grip despite having moved on to kissing the albino's jaw slowly and eventually peppering the long, white neck with his lips, sucking and nipping the unblemished skin softly. A rugged hand toyed with the opening to the priest's cassock; the material was not as thick as Arthur initially believed it to be and with a quick tug, the cloth tore, revealing the Prussian's white chest. The Brit carried on to kiss him deeply and passionately; fingers gently brushing along naturally pale skin and trace Gilbert's ribs. Biting and leaving marks on the chaste cleric's collarbone, Arthur smirked at the wide-eyed look of shock and hint of pleasure in his lover's blood red irises. The priest twisted and writhed like a fish out of water, desperate to escape from the unholy nightmare happening before him; attempting to sit up, he could not get far with the sandy blonde seated on his legs.
"Arth…Arthur, st—stop it…." Gilbert gasped, pale cheeks dusted pink from the light kisses and touches. His heart raced at the mere thought of what was in store for him—the organ hammered in his chest, as if about to burst right out of his ribcage there and then. Fear slithered like a snake and he felt nausea rise up from his gut—not from whatever was going on at the moment, but from unpleasant, dark memories stirring in his mind. The albino swallowed down a whimper of fear, seeing not the pirate but another person with jade green irises that had burned with wanton desire and hate.
"You are mine, luv." The pirate murmured into the Prussian's ear, hands cupping the latter's face in a gentle and yet at the same time possessive way so as to make the albino look into his glinting green orbs. A shiver went down the silverette's spine, partly due to the fact that his robes had been ripped off and the wind did nothing to help him but only made him tremble more, but for most part, flashes of a silent, blood watered battlefield as well as the unheard screams and sobs in an empty church. Just as a protest was about to tumble out of his lips, another rough and searing kiss stopped him short. The Prussian gasped into the sandy blonde's mouth, feeling a tongue invade and ravish his forcefully; it felt as if the latter was trying to taste him by running the muscle over his teeth, the sides of his cheek and down his throat. A soft moan escaped out of the priest as his crimson eyes slid to a partial close. Gilbert felt himself being pushed back down into the sheets and whimpered when Arthur broke the kiss and gazed down at him; brilliant eyes darkened with animalistic desire, they still held a regal, commanding air which demanded obedience. A light smirk flickered on the pirate's face as he heard the quiet moans.
'This is wrong… I shouldn't...no…' A blush appeared on the cleric's cheeks when he felt an uncomfortable tightness in his pants. Groaning through his feverish mind, the albino was barely aware of the Brit lying atop of him, or that the sandy blonde's kisses were trailing lower and lower until he felt licks and sucks along his erection, causing his back to arch slightly. Somewhere along that time, Arthur had relieved himself of his clothing and coated three of his fingers with saliva; pressing a single finger, the pirate moved it around while still licking and sucking at the tip of Gilbert's arousal; swirling his tongue around the base and then sucking hard. Then he pushed in a second finger—making scissoring actions with the two, he enjoyed hearing the whimpers of want coming from the Prussian who thrashed and moaned in desperate need and arched his hips. Adding in the third finger, Arthur knew he had finally pressed on the albino's prostrate when the latter's eyes flew wide and cried out in pleasure. Without a second thought, Arthur spread the albino's legs open—positioned himself and pressed him slowly; as much as the beast within the pirate wanted to plunge in and send the Prussian writhing in the throes of ecstasy, he did not want to give the priest too much pain during the latter's assumed first. Most of all, he wanted it to be pleasing for the albino.
Gilbert bit his lip, eyes closed, expecting the inevitable stab of agony to arrive. He felt the sandy blonde pull him close into a heated kiss while pressing in deeper, causing the cleric to feel like his body had been split into two—tearing up, breathing ragged, the albino panted at the agony of Arthur entering him. However, he could not hold back a cry of excruciating pain when the sandy blonde pushed past the outer ring and entered further—it was as if a huge, burning rod had been shoved up his backside to break and burn him from inside out; even though he had recovered from the famine in his land a while ago, the Prussian was still much thinner than Arthur due to malnutrition. A burst of panic flared within him again and every fiber of his body was tensed with the impulse to flee— feeling warm lips on his cheeks, ruby red orbs met emerald ones; the Brit was pecking away at his tears lightly, a pleased, almost gentle smile stretched across the sandy blonde's face—and all fear seemed to die off immediately and he relaxed: there was no malice in those eyes, no hate or ill will. The pirate brought their lips together in a kiss, weathered hands entwined with slightly smoother ones; he pulled out about an inch and pressed back in, "I won't make it hurt too much." Arthur groaned, enjoying the cloying warmth he felt as the muscles clenched around him.
Thrusting into the Prussian, the Brit started off slow and gentle, pulling out further each time. Gilbert's moans and whimpers in his mouth urged his hips forward to thrust hard and before long, the pumps increased in length and speed—blood churning hot and slow, Arthur's hands were firmly set on the albino's hips as he pulled out almost completely before slamming back in, slapping their skin together loudly with each movement. His arms wrapped tightly around the pirate, the priest sank his teeth into his lower lip to muffle his cries. He wanted to scream as the latter struck a spot deep inside that had him seeing stars behind his eyes; with each hard thrust it sent pinpricks of pleasure and pain throughout every nerve in his bowels and belly—at the end, the Prussian pulled away from the lip-lock and released a pleasured cry, tears slipping out from the corners of his eyes. Even with his mind in a cloud of thick sensual pleasure, Gilbert had to wonder to himself—was this how intercourse supposed to be like? Not brutal and forced on?
Hearing the pleasured scream of his lover, the pirate's smile became wider, baring a feral of teeth; Arthur began a pounding rhythm, forcing the priest's body to bend further and elevate his hips, the sandy blonde wanted to hear more of the albino's pleasure—to him, it was the sweetest melody he had ever heard other than the sound of the sea. The other's body closed around his length each time, pulsating and pulling him deeper. He craved the heat inside the Prussian and at the sight of Gilbert writhing beneath him, the animalistic lust in the Brit drove him on; not noticing that his thrusts had turned slightly more forceful and the Prussian's cries of pleasure had a tint of pain behind them. Slamming deep into Gilbert, Arthur felt the other claw at his back, nails digging into his shoulders whilst choking out his name. There was some blood dripping down those pale white thighs, but the albino's mind was too caught up in sensual frenzy to think—the pirate's thickness crashed into him over and over again, striking his sweet spot each time. He barely had time to catch a breath in between his moans and cries; the sandy blonde's intense lovemaking sent waves of carnal delight throughout his body, coursing through each nerve and settling at his lower abdomen. The pleasure was growing more and heated with every rock solid thrust—before Gilbert could let out another gasp, a choking cry left his lips and he came between them, unable to take anymore of the pleasurable onslaught.
However, despite having come to completion, Arthur was still stimulating that special spot, which made his eyes, roll back in his head. For a moment, he thought that the Brit was upset with when the other pulled out of him, causing him to feel cold and empty—Arthur had yet to find his own release after all. Then, to the Prussian's surprise, the pirate flipped him over on his belly and lifted his hips to his erection. The priest bit down on his forearm to keep from screaming at the next round of entry; it was much easier this time with the muscles opening wide to accept Arthur fully, and narrow hips pressed against the rounds of thrusts which were different from the previous but nonetheless pleasurable.
Seated up tall on his knees, the pirate gripped his pale lover gently and started to rock those narrow hips against him; then, his fingers tightened and he pulled out as far as he could and rammed himself back in. The force of it brought forth a wail of pleasure from Gilbert's throat and the albino arched his neck at the rough penetration that wracked his body and made him cum instantly once more. His body was unable to enjoy the afterglow of the orgasm however, due to the swift, solid thrusts Arthur was giving him—pale fingers clenched and clawed at the linen sheets of the bed as he thrashed in the heat of passion whilst the Brit rammed into him over and over; it was quite painful, but the waves of pleasure that hit him was more than enough to ward it off. The pirate was not stopping, that the rock solid movements made the cleric feel as if he was being ripped open. Each time the tip of Arthur's arousal rammed straight on into his prostrate, making him scream out and his eyes well with tears of ecstasy. He felt the build up of another orgasm tickling in his lower belly with each thrust—harsh and rapid, he writhed, arched rolled and even shook—they brought along a new type of ache within the Prussian's guts. The hurt was enjoyable and Gilbert found himself shuddering to release again.
Skin sweaty and flushed, Arthur could feel himself nearing his climax—his lover was no longer holding back his voice, letting out groans, shrieks and moans of ecstasy; the Prussian was gasping the former's name as the pounding continued, the sandy blonde wanting to lay claim to the albino beneath him. 'He is mine and mine alone…no one will have him.' The pirate swore; lust filled irises watching as Gilbert convulsed perfectly beneath him. He loved the other with all his heart and soul; and if everyone would curse him for doing so, then so be it. The albino was his and only his. Another hard thrust sent Gilbert's head arching back and his body trembling; soft muscles contracted against his hard length, clamping down around him as if begging him to never leave. The Brit set to sucking hard on the back of the Prussian's neck; feeling the albino gasp and flinch when his tongue traced circles on it—he bit softly on the skin, a weathered hand stroking the other's hard length. Arthur carried on to drive himself harder into Gilbert's tightness, slamming unforgivingly into the latter's sweet spot until the priest screamed his name in pleasure and his body's nerves pushed him over the edge. With a strangled cry he spurted his steaming essences over his tattered cassock. The sandy blonde was still thrusting through his orgasm, making some of the white substance splatter on the albino's chest and face. The sudden tightening sent Arthur over the edge and his toes curled—back arched, the pirate let out a groan and came inside the tightness, panting heavily whilst pulling out of Gilbert's body. Emerald green hues looked at the Prussian who was flat on the bed with his face flushed and eyes wide with afterglow.
Gilbert felt Arthur still with his erection buried deep within him when he heard the latter groan and felt a liquid warmth fill him; fresh tears pouring down his cheeks like a waterfall, and an opened mouth smile of relief, he only felt the Brit's essence when it reached the outer ring of his hole, leaking out and dribbling down his thighs. He felt his face flush when the pirate pulled out, hearing and feeling the substance pooling out. The albino wanted to close his legs together, but he found himself unable to—limbs weak, red irises looked up at Arthur's loving green ones; both their faces were tinted pink, with the former's looking as red as his crimson eyes. He swallowed and looked away; feeling tears of a different kind build up in his eyes and spill down his cheeks, Gilbert hid his face in his hands, unable to look at the pirate anymore.
The Prussian felt pathetic, weak and confused; he was a pathetic nation—poor, riddled with all sort of trouble that came his way—hell, he was technically not even a nation but a ducal state: a pathetic, sad excuse of a nation avatar who somehow just refused to die or fade away in times when he should have. Gilbert had often wondered what was it that the other saw in him to deserve his affection and desire, now even more so: nation avatars never took the matter of coupling lightly—it meant conquest and being a literal slave with no need to care for their wellbeing, or it meant being married in an official alliance which could start off a war. Granted, from what he knew of the other's history, the Brit had been conquered before—Rome, France…but Gilbert could not bring himself to tell the sandy blonde. Not when the other had been so gentle for fear that it was his first and that he did not want to break him; the Prussian could tell the difference of being manhandled and forced from this: he was still awake was because the other had not been too rough on him. That and his mind did not force him into oblivion in the middle of their intimate dance unlike those horrific incidents that would be forever seared into his memory. He heard the small rustle of fabric and looked up to see Arthur half dressed and digging around in a chest—to pull out a long nightshirt. "It's a cold night…you will fall sick if you don't put on something." The Brit murmured, palming away the fat, salty droplets.
At those words, the priest sat up, ignoring the angry protest from the bottom of his spine, and embraced the sandy blonde. Part of him wanted to tell the pirate everything so badly, yet another part wanted him to keep all of it buried for the rest of his long existence. How could he ever find the strength to force those words out of his lips and look into those emerald eyes ever again without feeling defiled and inferior? Granted as nation avatars it was impossible to never have been conquered and have their arse handed to them literally; in the most cruel of ways as well, but Gilbert, not Prussia—did not want things to have to be as such. It was not fair, more so to Arthur than him.
'If only we did not have to be bound to our people…'
Arthur kept quiet as the Prussian clung onto him and wept, muted sobs that made the albino's body shake and tremble—it was as if the Prussian was trying to hold onto him and never let go. Gently embracing him with one arm, the other hand stroked soft, silver strands soothingly; almost like how one would try to calm a wounded and frightened animal that would bolt at any moment. The pirate never said a word, but simply allowed the other to cry to exhaustion and fall asleep after. Dressing the fast asleep priest up, Arthur lay down beside the exhausted Prussian; curled up on his side, Gilbert had still fresh tear tracks still fresh on his pale face—the sandy blonde leaned over and kissed them away. Then, with a soft purr, the pirate pulled the blanket which had been kicked away earlier over the two of them and wrapped his arms around Gilbert's body to pull him close into a lover's embrace before falling into the arms of morpheus.
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A/n. THIS IS CRAP. What on earth did I just type...and I am terrible at this (It was actually from one of my old writings and I edited most of it: MEIN GOTT I STILL REMEMBER READING ALL SORTS OF SMUT FICS AS RESEARCH AND TRYING TO GET IT ALL RIGHT I SHALL GO DIE IN A CORNER NOW.) As for the title I couldn't think of a better name so...suggestions anyone? Not much history here although historical based headcanon used: Prussia after the 13 years war; basically after 1566 became Poland's bitch so...Actually, Poland was nothing like how Hetalia portrayed him to be: The Kingdom of Poland was actually really large and powerful until of course, like all great Kingdoms and Empires it fell. And from there, the rise of the Kingdom of Prussia started. Once again, like the previous, I did not write this to offend anyone so please be civil. That and again, I refer you to my warning.
