Alfred smirked, and then shifted so he could whisper huskily in her ear, "What is it? Come on, baby, tell me."
Still blushing, Lizzie glared at him and pushed on his shoulders so she could glare at him properly. Alfred returned the glare with a bright, clueless grin.
"You prat, you already know!"
"Do I? I'm not quite sure I do. You'll have to clarify."
"Bloody tease," Lizzie grumbled, and then, "Fine."
Alfred grinned, thinking that he won, but soon looked confused when he felt Lizzie take his hand in hers and start guiding it down her body, starting from her neck, down to her chest (which Alfred groped lightly, just to make Lizzie more flustered), her abdomen, and then ending at the hem of her skirt. As both teenagers gulped lightly, Lizzie placed Alfred's hand on her thigh and then guided it up her skirt and into her underwear, causing his fingers to brush against...
A blush flooded his face. Oh.
Lizzie wrapped her other arm tighter around his neck and rested her chin on his shoulder, her head turned so she was now breathing heavily against his neck.
"Is this...enough clarification for you?" She pushed his finger against her heated core, making sure to put pressure on the moist skin.
Alfred remained stunned until Lizzie let out a soft cry that went straight to his groin. His eyes narrowed with determination and he quickly regained control of his hand and took over Lizzie's job, making sure to gently rub the sensitive nub that resulted in his Class President--usually so steadfast and demanding of order--trembling and crying out in desperation. Lizzie moaned at his ministrations and wrapped her other arm around his neck, still burying her face against his neck. Then she started to worship the skin there, rotating between kissing, nipping, licking, and suckling on the flesh.
"Please," she whimpered over and over as she mouthed his pulse point. "Please, Alfred."
Alfred chuckled hoarsely, trying to ignore those arousing sounds. "Damn it, Lizzie, I wanted to take this slow. How am I supposed to do that when you're ruining my concentration?"
As an answer, the Brit clenched her legs tighter around him, and then bucked her hips forward, making sure to grind against his groin. The movement caused the breath to be pulled out of Alfred, and he ended up burying his face into her neck, his groan barely stifled by his grit teeth. He moved the previously-occupied (not to mention slightly damp) hand against the wall in order to brace himself in place.
"Oh, what's the matter, love?" Lizzie asked against his ear, her tone a mockery of innocence. "Not going to last long, are you? You poor dear."
Alfred panted slightly as his earlobe was nipped lightly. Fuck, she was driving him insane (even more than usual)...
"If it's so bad, then why don't you just take what you want," she continued, kissing him sweetly on his cheek. "I'm more than willing, you know. Just do it, and I'll finally be yours."
He could feel her smirk against his skin, "Only yours."
That was pretty much the final straw for Alfred. He smirked slightly and picked up his head to look into Lizzie's emerald eyes, which gleamed back at him in the darkness of the closet. As one of his hands reached down to undo his pants, finally releasing his need from the tight confines, Alfred shook his head and clicked his teeth against his palate, as if in admonishment.
"Hope you realize what you're gettin' into, darlin," he said with a slight Southern drawl as he removed the girl's glasses and put them to the side. Wouldn't want to get them damaged, after all; besides, she wouldn't need them.
With that said, Alfred wasted no time removing Lizzie's hands from his neck, and then pinning her arms above her head with one hand wrapped around both wrists. Lizzie gasped, stunned at his gesture, but smirked nonetheless as she linked her ankles together. Alfred then moved his free hand up her skirt and swiftly started ripping off her panties from one side. He was going to rip the fabric obstacle off completely, but after a few seconds of thinking about it, Alfred decided just to rip enough to make it easy to pull down, yet also allow it to dangle from one of Lizzie's legs.
Once her panties were dangling near her knee, Alfred quickly guided his length towards his goal, finally finding it after the second try, and then he slowly entered the moist cavern, inch by inch.
God, it was incredible--more than any fantasy, any dream that had seeped inside Alfred's mind in the past. Lizzie was so hot and wet all around him, wrapping him up tightly, perhaps even too tightly, as he filled her to the hilt. And yet, despite her tightness, Alfred couldn't help but think they were a perfect fit, as if she was made solely for him, and he for her. Feeling that familiar warmth bubble in his chest once more, Alfred closed his eyes, smiled, and kissed Lizzie's trembling lips with all the passion he could muster, trying to convey all the feelings he felt for her, feelings that he wasn't confident enough (yet) to admit out loud. Despite his kiss, though, Alfred didn't dare move; he wanted to savor this moment.
(Un)Fortunately, Lizzie wasn't as patient.
"Alfred," she whined when he stopped kissing her. "D-don't stop now! I need...please!"
Alfred chuckled lightly, and then, suddenly feeling a desire to see her more clearly, he pulled on the chain above him that lit up the closet. When he finally got a good look on her, Alfred felt something clench in his chest.
Lizzie looked up at him, her eyes glistening with lust, and her cheeks flushed a bright red. Her parted lips were still red, and slightly bruised, but still as kissable as ever, possibly even more so as she released desperate keening sounds from her mouth. Her neck and part of her chest (which was still covered in a bra--Alfred seriously needed to fix that soon) was littered with red marks and bruises that would have to be covered with make-up. Her blonde hair, usually neatly tied with two pigtails one her head, was now all mussed up, her clips gone and allowing her bangs to fall slightly over her eyes. Her pigtails were still intact, but that was only because Alfred had decided to keep them there.
(S-stop looking at me like that. It's not my fault Lizzie looks like walking Fetish Fuel--b-but that doesn't mean that I have some dirty kink for her pigtails or anything! I just know she would appreciate it if I didn't mess up her hair any further, and since I'm a great, awesome hero, I respect those wishes. Yeah! That's totally the reason!.......God damn it, stop laughing!)
Needless to say, Alfred doubted that anyone had ever seen the pristine English lady like this--so flustered and full of want and so, so beautiful. Not Francis, not Antonio, not Kiku (not that Alfred had to worry about him anyway, since he obviously carried a torch for that Greek guy, but that's beside the point)--only he was gifted with this image of Lizzie.
That alone was enough for Alfred to smile with pride as he gently brushed Lizzie's bangs from her face, coaxing the girl to blink up in confusion and slight concern. Lizzie managed to free one of her hands out of his now loose hold, and she cupped his face worriedly, even though her body was still shuddering slightly from adjusting to Alfred's size.
"Alfred?" she asked tentatively.
Alfred's smile widened as he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes briefly.
When he opened them again, he smirked and grabbed Lizzie's hand, and then pinned it firmly alongside her other one.
Lizzie's mouth parted with surprise, and she was probably about to say something--but she was cut off when Alfred pulled back and abruptly thrust into her. A loud moan of pleasure erupted from her shamelessly as her eyes clenched closed.
Mine.
Alfred's smirk widened as he proceeded to thrust harder, wanting to hear Lizzie scream until her throat was raw. (His name, preferably. But Alfred wasn't really that picky right now, to be honest.)
A/N: Okay, this is the part when you're really going to hate me. *slowly backs away, smiling shakily* Eheheheh.... *quickly runs into bomb shelter*:
Back in Reality!
"Alfred?" Knock, knock.
"..."
"Alfred, you have to get up, we've gotta go to school."
"..."
"Alfred."
"...!"
Sigh. "Fine, I'm coming in."
Matthew slowly opened the door to his older brother's room and tentatively stepped inside. As usual, the room was a mess, with clothes thrown onto furniture and papers and books all over the floor, along with other miscellaneous objects. Matthew shook his head slightly, and walked towards the bed, where his brother was sprawled. He must have been tossing and turning the whole night, because the sheets had been pulled slightly off of the mattress.
The smaller teen sighed, but smiled fondly at his brother as he gently put a hand on Alfred's shoulder, trying to shake him awake. Unfortunately for Matthew, this was like trying to move a boulder with one's bare hands, so he knew that it would take a while.
What he didn't predict was, well...
"Mmm, Lizzie," Alfred smiled in his sleep.
...Say what? Matthew scratched his head in confusion as he tried to place a face to the name. Lizzie? As in Elizabeth Kirkland, that Lizzie? Wasn't she that girl Alfred always talked (ranted) about...?
"Yeah...you like that, baby?"
Matthew froze, his skin paling (well, even more). W-w-what?
"God, you feel sooo good...!"
That was pretty much all the Canadian heard before promptly running out of the room. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, his mind still stunned at hearing groans and many other...dirty things coming from his brother's mouth. A muffled sound came from the door, making Matthew jump away from it like it burned. He looked at the door with wide, frightened eyes, his whole body trembling with shock.
Dear sweet Maple, he thought. I think I've died a little inside.
With that thought, Matthew shuddered and then made his way down the stairs again, his steps robotic.
As he walked inside the kitchen, he was greeted jovially by a certain albino German (oh, I'm sorry, Prussian), and fellow student at World Academy (a senior), who had--once again--somehow snuck inside Alfred and Matthew's house, despite all the doors and windows being locked.
"Morning, Birdie!" Gilbert grinned as he struck a pose. "The awesome me has once again come up on you this morning, in order to be served pancakes doused in the awesomeness (though not as awesome as me) that is maple syrup! Now, you should consider yourself lucky that I'm not completely raging on you and your vital regions right now for making me wait, because if it had been anyone else, I--"
Gilbert paused in his rant, finally realizing that he wasn't getting a response, and his grin dimmed into a facial expression looking akin to worry. (Not that he'd ever admit to worrying about someone out loud; he was way too awesome for that.)
"M-Mattie?" He went over to the near-catatonic boy and looked into the now dull violet eyes. A sudden wave of protectiveness came over him, and Gilbert automatically prepared himself for killing whoever had dared to hurt his Birdie. (O-only because I want him to make his awesome pancakes. Ja!)
"Gil, I..."
"Yes, Mattie, what happened?" Gilbert firmly placed his hands on the younger teen's (by a year) shoulders.
"Alfred, he..." Matthew's eyes teared up slightly, causing Gilbert's heart to ache and his blood to boil.
Verdammt, he raged internally. That American dummkof probably forgot Mattie again. He probably left the poor kid stranded on some street, forcing him to walk home in the dark, cold night, where muggers and creepers were looking for fresh prey like him. Or better yet, he didn't control himself--again--when the two of them were playing catch. That fast-food idiot! He knew that Mattie wasn't strong enough to handle having a fast ball thrown to his face over and over again...
"...I walked in on Alfred having a wet dream about some girl!"
Gilbert immediately relaxed and allowed himself to smile easily down at the still traumatized boy.
"Is that all?" He laughed.
Matthew glared at him. "What do you mean, 'Is that all'? Gil, it was disturbing! I never want to go through something like that ever again! And to make matters worse, Alfred's not waking up and we're going to be late and--"
A pale finger was placed on his lips, stunning him into silence.
"Calm down, Mattie, and stop worrying. I'll get your brother to wake up." Gilbert winked playfully as he removed his finger, and then he started walking towards the stairs.
Matthew blinked and then smiled softly, a slight warmth spreading across his cheeks.
"Thanks, Gil," he said.
"No problem, Mattie. Your brother has a megaphone, right?"
"Oh, yeah. It's in is room, right on top of the bureau."
"Perfect. Danke."
"No prob--" Matthew blinked, and then panicked, realizing his mistake. He ran after Gilbert, desperate to stop him. "Wait, Gilbert, don't--"
Unfortunately, he was already too late.
"HEY YOU, AMERICAN IDIOT! GET YO' ASS UP SO MATTIE CAN MAKE ME MY DAMN PANCAKES!"
Matthew abruptly heard a crash from Alfred's room, followed by a pained groan that was no doubt from his brother. He groaned softly and held the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, trying to head off the oncoming headache he knew would come.
"What the hell? Beilschmidt?! Why are you--How did you?....MATTIE, HOW THE HELL DID THIS FREAK GET INTO OUR HOUSE?"
"Philistine American, don't you know that you can't keep out the awesome? I will ALWAYS find a way in!....'Cause I'm awesome, and you're not. So, nyeh!"
"Ha, shows how much you know, you friggin' stalker. If there's anyone who's the awesome here, it's ME!"
Gasp. "Oh, no, you didn't...!"
...Yeah, no luck for Mattie there.
As his older brother and...sort of friend (it's a little hard to tell sometimes) continued to argue, like they did every morning, Matthew ventured back into the kitchen and began to make his famous pancakes. It was only a matter of time before the two idiots got hungry, after all.
Matthew listened to the screaming and yelling with closed eyes and a twitching eyebrow. While he did, another presence in the kitchen quickly made itself known as it nuzzled against his ankle, trying to get his attention.
"Ah, Kumakichi!" He opened his eyes and crouched down to fondly pet the polar bear. "I guess you just woke up, huh? I wouldn't be surprised, what with the racket those two idiots make."
Kumajiro tilted his head, his beady eyes revealing nothing.
"Just another day in the life of Matthew Williams, huh?" Mattie stood up with a smile.
It was almost three weeks after the incident with the pollen-or as Alfred had called it “the-weird-yellow-powder-thing”-and that afternoon a certain bespectacled blonde was stomping through the halls of World Academy with a deep scowl on their face and bags under their intense eyes.
“Ve~, Alfred!” Feliciano Vargas greeted, smiling obliviously. “How are you today?”
Alfred paused in his movements to give the Italian such an infuriating glare that even Ivan Braginski, who just so happened to be standing by, shrank away slightly.
“Piss off, Pasta breath,” he sneered.
Feliciano’s eyes watered as he shivered as he stared at the tall American with fear. Finally, with trembling lips and tears streaming down his cheeks, the teen whipped around and ran off, crying out:
“Ludwig, help! Come protect me from the crazy American…!”
Everyone else in the hallway blinked at the Italian’s back as he quickly became a speck, and then they turned to look at Alfred.
The tall boy noticed the stares, and his blue eyes narrowed dangerously as he let out a low growl that rumbled in the air, immediately leading to the other wide eyed students to shrink back (some even hid behind each other), creating a clear pathway for the American to go through. Alfred glared at them all for a moment, and then he shoved his clenched hands in his pockets and went on his way, leaving everyone in stunned silence.
“Like, what the hell was that about?” A Polish student whispered to the brown haired boy standing next to him, who shrugged shakily.
“He’s been acting like that all week,” Toris explained, his voice hinting some concern. “No one knows why.”
“Wow, like, talk about freaky!”
Though his blood boiled at the incredulous whispers and occasional insults, Alfred couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Once he was a good few feet away from the frightened students, his shoulder slumped.
It’s official, he somberly concluded as he ran a hand through his hair, I’m going insane.
He shook his head, sighing with frustration, and then walked into his next class, Trigonometry. Next would be History, then P.E., and then he would be out of there. As long as he kept telling himself this, Alfred was sure he wouldn’t completely crack.
Ignoring all the weird stares from his peers, Alfred quickly chose a seat by the window and sat down in it. He leaned his chin on his palm and closed his eyes, trying to block out the rest of the world-and trying not to think of the dream he had had that morning.
“Ah-Alfred!”
…Which, as you can guess, is easier said than done.
Blushing brightly at the memory, Alfred groaned softly and laid his head down, burying it in his arms.
God damn it, why me?
That morning’s dream was, like-what?-the fifteenth “Lizzie dream” he’d had in a row (and that didn’t even include the daydreams.) At first these dreams weren’t so bad-in fact, the first few were really nice. They still included the sex, but they were more…traditional, you could say. For example, instead of a closet or against a wall (like this morning’s dream), it would happen on a bed, one that was soft, warm, and covered in pure white sheets that would always cover both him and Lizzie, as if to hide them from the rest of the world. Each sensual movement between the two of them was slow and gentle, yet just as blazingly passionate, taking them both to heights that culminated in a euphoric release. The sex was utterly cliché, so vanilla that it would probably make a sexual connoisseur like Francis gag, and yet it was the sort of sex Alfred truly envisioned having with Lizzie. (Not that he’d ever admit it, the stubborn ass that he is.)
Then, after a few nights of this, the dreams got progressively…rougher, not to mention more vivid. Actually, to properly describe these dreams (as vulgar as it might be), is to compare them to a typical hardcore porno. No, seriously; each dream was a different scenario, and it featured the type of sex that would make Alfred blush so hard that he couldn’t look his own mother in the eye, for fear of her discovering his guilty pleasure.
One of the dreams had Lizzie dressed up as a pirate queen, for god’s sake-with Alfred featured as “Captain Kirkland’s” personal prisoner, to make matters even weirder (and possibly cheesier)!
(Okay, I won’t lie; that one was kinda hot…but still, what the hell subconscious?)
Anyway, the point was that the dreams had gotten steadily worse-so much so, that he couldn’t even…
The familiar sound of heels clacking on the floor made Alfred’s ears perk up, and he immediately picked his head up.
There really wasn’t anything different about her, at first. Her uniform was in perfect order, as usual. Her socks were parallel to each other in length, and her shoes were shiny, as usual. What really surprised Alfred was Lizzie’s hair; it was down and flowing over her shoulders, instead of being put into her signature pigtails. (N-not that I care…or mind. She looks pretty good with her hair down….) The other traits that were lacking on Lizzie’s person were her red rimmed glasses-something that Alfred couldn’t recall the British girl going without (she must have been wearing contacts). This left her emerald green eyes bare and visible (well, more visible anyway) for the entire world to take in, without any obstacles in the way.
(Her eyebrows are still bushy though-but I love them anyway, so it’s all good.)
Those same green eyes regarded Alfred with a blank look before Lizzie nodded at him and sat down in the desk next to him.
“Jones,” she greeted.
At the sound of her voice, a lump formed in Alfred’s throat, and red flooded his cheeks. He quickly hid his guilt with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
…So much so, that he couldn’t even be in the same room with Lizzie without feeling uneasy.
“H-hey, Lizzie,” he coughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck with a shaky hand.
That’s right; I have this class with her…God fucking damn it, just my luck; I make it practically to the end of the day and now…
“So, uh, how are you?”
Lizzie seemed to hesitate before answering, “I’m fine. You?”
“Of course, I’m the poster child of fine! Nothing wrong with me, ha-ha-ha!” Alfred laughed nervously, his eyes darting away, trying to look anywhere but at the girl.
“…Right,” was the flat reply. (…Is she…smirking?!) Then, as the teacher walked in and started speaking, Lizzie turned to face ahead with an unreadable expression.
After a few minutes of the teacher droning on and on about trig equations, Alfred quickly found himself bored and droning out the noise. As he did, he couldn’t help but observe Lizzie from the corner of his eye; the way she paid so close attention to the teacher, how she’d nibble on her lower lip in concentration as she wrote down the solutions to the problems on the board, and how she answered questions with an unwavering confidence in her voice…
Oh, God, her voice, and with that thought, the guilt came spilling back.
He couldn’t help but think about how that same voice had cried and screamed out in pleasure in his dreams, and as turned on-not to mention sexually frustrated (That damn dream interrupting albino, Mattie-obsessed German asshole…!)-as he had been, he still couldn’t help but feel bad about it, as well as the previous dreams he’d had. I mean, not only would Lizzie probably smack him and never want to speak to him again (if she ever found out, of course), but she would probably be disgusted that she’d been thought of in such a way, the prude that she was. Then, of course, there were the daydreams he had-when he’d look at Lizzie doing something innocent, such as her tendency to chew her pen, and then think something along the lines of: That pretty mouth could be put to such better use…
Alfred blushed furiously as his eyes widened, and then he promptly began to slam his head against his desk.
Must. Stop. Thinking. PERVERTED. THOUGHTS! He screamed internally each time his head made a painful impact.
“Alfred?” He heard his teacher say vaguely, but continued anyway.
HEROES. AREN’T. PERVERTS…well, Batman might be, what with the ass he tends to get…but still!
“Jones!” A pair of demure hands grasped his shoulders and forced him to stop. When they did, Alfred slowly realized that maybe he should have thought his “beat the perverted thoughts out of my head” idea more thoroughly. (Ow…) He tried to shake his head in order to bring back focus to his vision, but when the moment he moved, he was hit with a wave of nausea-as well as the vague realization that there was something wet and warm dripping down his forehead.
“Jones,” a worried accented voice cried out, making Alfred’s heart jump before he could even recognize it. “…Alfred?”
God, I love how she says my name…. “Yes, pretty lady,” Alfred replied with a rather dazed smile.
There was a faint sound of a hand smacking against skin (most likely a forehead). “Oh, dear lord…Sir, is it all right if I bring him to the nurse?”
“Um, yes, please do so Miss Kirkland.”
Next thing Alfred knew, he was laid out on a cot, and Lizzie was sitting beside him, looking through the first aid kit on her lap.
“What’s going on,” he asked, slurring slightly.
Lizzie looked at him, her expression unreadable. “You hit your head too hard, but it’s not too bad. It’s just a scratch.”
She then took out some iodine, poured a few drops on a cotton ball, and then she started to dab his forehead, much to the confusion of Alfred (not that he minded, he just didn’t peg her for the Florence Nightingale type). If Lizzie noticed, she didn’t say anything; she just continued to clean the wound, and then put a band aid on it, her eyes narrow in concentration, as if she was taking special care not to mess up. Alfred couldn’t help but smile at the sight. (Aw…Uh, I mean, that’s not cute, it's, uh-oh fuck it, I’m not fooling anyone: AW!!)
“Thanks,” he said softly, once she was done.
Lizzie looked away from him, her cheeks blushing lightly as she scowled. “I-it’s not like I wanted to, or anything. I just did it because the nurse isn’t here, for some reason or another.”
“Uh-huh, sure that’s the reason.” A smirk grew on his face as he winked. “You know you can’t resist me.”
The blush on Lizzie’s face grew as she glared at him. “Stupid, arrogant yank!” She promptly punched his arm.
Alfred took the insult and hit in stride, breaking out into laughter and a brilliant smile. See? This is how it’s supposed to be. Just me, Lizzie, her yelling, and her cute blush. No thinking about what it’s like to kiss her, touch her, or…
…God damn it.
He immediately sat up to leave, making sure to avoid Lizzie’s gaze. Alfred needed to get out of that room fast, away from her, otherwise-otherwise he wouldn’t know what he’d do.
A small hand on the sleeve of his bomber jacket pulled him back reluctantly.
He swallowed thickly, but when he looked back at her, Alfred made sure to smile his typical oblivious smile.
“W-why? There’s nothing wrong, not with me anyway,” he chuckled shakily.
With eyes narrowed, Lizzie stood up and walked over to him, making Alfred panic and take a step back. That seems to make the English girl angrier, if the glint in her eyes is any indication, but she keeps walking forward until Alfred found himself backed up against a wall. He knew that he could easily move and get away from her, but for some reason his body wouldn’t move.
Knowing that she had Alfred basically trapped, Lizzie stood in front of him, her body just inches from his own, and glared at him.
“Now, listen here, Mr. Jones, you may fool the rest of the school, but I will not take that shite from you,” she poked his chest in irritation. “For the past week, you’ve been either too irritable or too quiet-”
“I thought you’d like it if I was quieter,” Alfred teased evasively.
“Don’t change the subject, git! The fact is that you’ve been acting really odd this week-and it’s not just with everyone else in the school, but with me as well!” When his eyes widened, Lizzie smirked smugly, though her eyes held no humor. “Oh, you didn’t think I noticed, did you? That you’ve been avoiding me, that you’ve barely talked to me, that you won’t even look me in the eye anymore!”
To make her point, Lizzie took his chin in her hands and guided him to lock his guilty blue eyes with her frustrated green eyes. As the two of them stared at each other, the girl’s eyes softened, and she loosened her grip on his chin.
“Listen, it’s not that I care or anything, but,” she bit her lip, looking away hesitantly, and then she looked back at him, her cheeks flushing slightly. “As your Student Council President, it’s my job to make sure that the students of World Academy aren’t having any…problems.”
Problems? Alfred blushed.
“And if there are problems, well, it’s my job to help in any way I can.” Despite the pink on her cheeks, nothing on Lizzie’s face implied a deeper meaning to her words.
But her way too soft voice…and the way her hands burned against his skin…. He briefly looked up at the ceiling pleadingly. Why me?
“So, Alfred,” Lizzie said softly, almost purring as her eyes misted over slightly. “If there’s anything you need, anything at all, just know that I’m right here to help you.”
Oh, fuck me.
(Yes, please, a lusty voice cried in his head.
Not. Now!)
As he looked down at her, Alfred couldn’t help but gape in disbelief. Did Elizabeth not realize the sexual connotations behind her words? Or how she had said them? Or how she was still touching his face, as if she was going to pull him down for a kiss? No, she couldn’t have-there was no way Elizabeth Kirkland would flirt with him so blatantly, let alone at all. This must have been another dream, Alfred thought almost desperately. Or just wishful thinking on my part…
He cleared his throat and forced on a smile. “Really, Lizzie, I…”
What the hell are you doing? That same voice cried out from the recesses of his mind. She said that she’ll help you with “anything”; she’s practically offering herself on a silver platter!
Which is all the more reason not to do anything.
Or at least, that’s what Alfred has been telling himself for the past week. It was all he could do to prevent himself from pulling Lizzie into a secluded area and having his way with her, and yet…
“Alfred?”
There was still that nagging in the back of his mind, an incredibly weak part, begging out for flesh, heat, and release.
Lizzie moved one hand to rest on his elbow, while the other cupped his hot cheek, stroking the skin with her thumb.
A part of Alfred that was currently screaming, what with Lizzie so close to him-and weakening his resolve more and more.
“Is everything all right?” Though she both sounded and looked concerned, Alfred was certain he detected a smug, almost teasing tone in Lizzie’s voice, which was still as soft and low as before.
“I, um, well…” He quickly averted his gaze, licking his dry lips. “Lizzie…”
The hand on his cheek moved towards his shirt collar, the soft knuckles brushing against his skin, making it break out in goose bumps.
He then felt Lizzie lean up to whisper in his ear, “Yes?”
“I want you.”
Alfred stiffened, just as Lizzie picked up her head and looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow.
“I…said that out loud, didn’t I?” The American laughed nervously, his cheeks bright red.
Much to his surprise, the British girl replied with a wide smirk and narrowed eyes, looking very much like a cat cornering a canary-
Which should NOT make me hot! Even as he thought it, though, Alfred felt his blood flow down south, causing his cock to twitch and his pants to tighten. He couldn’t help but glare down at himself, one of his eyebrows twitching. Damn it, why aren’t you listening to me?!
A soft giggle brought his eyes back up to lock on sultry green, and his heart jumped. Then Lizzie leaned up to get her face towards his, her eyes fluttering closed. Against his better judgment, Alfred leaned towards her also, his eyes closing automatically as he blocked out everything except Lizzie’s warmth and the roaring in his ears.
Just one kiss…No harm can come from one kiss, right?
As their lips brushed against each other, Alfred was certain: Right.
BAM! The door was thrown open, making the two hormonal teenagers freeze in place.
“Ah, I’m sorry to have kept you two waiting so long!” The young nurse cried out worriedly, her ample chest bouncing almost obnoxiously as she ran inside the room. She looked at the two teens, noticing how close they were, but oblivious to the fact that she’d interrupted something.
“Um,” Alfred smiled awkwardly at the nurse. “It’s okay, Ms. Braginski.”
Meanwhile, Elizabeth’s hands were braced on the wall, on either side of him, as her head bent down, hiding her expression.
“Yes, Ms. Braginski, it’s fine. You just had impeccable timing, is all.”
Even though her voice sounded pleasant, Alfred became clearly aware of the fact that Lizzie had started scratching down the wall when she’d said “impeccable”, looking similar to when that Natalya chick had once tried to get through a locked room where Ivan had hidden.
…Well, at least she’s not saying ‘Marry me’, he thought wryly.
Katyusha looked at them, her eyes full of concern. “Did either of you get sick or hurt?”
That suddenly gave Alfred an idea, and he gave the young woman a smile. “Actually, I hit my head a while ago, and it really hurt. Is it okay if I just go home and rest?”
The nurse blinked, and then nodded with a small smile. “If you think that’s best.”
He winked at her, grinning. “Thanks, Miss B.”
Then Alfred gently pried one of Lizzie’s arms away from the wall and walked around the Brit to get his messenger bag. Before he walked out, he paused to awkwardly look at Lizzie, who was still looking down at the floor, her bangs covering her eyes and hiding her expression. The sight still made his chest clench, but his conscience (which got off from that little break it seemed to have taken a few minutes ago) told him that this was the right thing to do. If he stayed around her for the rest of the day, he wasn’t sure what he’d do to her-and he didn’t want to risk finding out.
“Hey, Lizzie,” he ruffled her hair playfully, though lightly. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” went her monotone voice. “Later.”
Alfred cringed at the emotionless tone (I think I prefer it when she yells at me), but looked away as he walked out of the room. This is for your own good, Lizzie, I promise.
Even as he said that, though, that primal voice in his mind was yelling for him to go back and claim…claim…claim!
The door to the Student Council office was kicked open, revealing one extremely red and very, very pissed off British girl, who promptly slammed it closed behind her as she stomped around the room.
“The nerve of him, getting up and walking out just before we…before we…” Elizabeth let out a frustrated scream from clenched teeth and grasped at her hair, nearly tugging the blonde strands out.
Finally, she sat on the sofa, staring off into space angrily, though also looking confused. “I don’t understand. Why is he hesitating?”
A soft tinkle, sounding somewhat like a bell, rang near her ear as a familiar voice said, “Maybe he’s shy?”
Lizzie scoffed. “That’s a load of bollocks, Flying Mint Bunny. I mean, Alfred’s been teasing me for years-and now, all of a sudden, he gets shy? It just doesn’t make any sense!”
“Well, think about it, Elizabeth,” said the rabbit shaped fairy in a knowing tone, “he’s probably feeling an influx of hormones that are too much for him to control, and that combined with the dreams, and the lust he feels for you as a result, which just gets worse whenever you’re in the room…It probably scares him.”
“Perhaps, but those uncontrollable hormones should be enough to make him want to…to…ugh, you know,” Lizzie turned away, her cheeks blushing. “I mean, that’s what the pollen is supposed to do-maximize your libido, make you lose all inhibitions, and all that crap. That should be more than enough for Alfred to act.”
“Yeah, but do you remember the previous cases we told you about,” Flying Mint Bunny replied, sounding slightly worried. “About how all the other people who used the pollen reacted, and what the usual end result was?”
Lizzie contemplated for a moment, and then snorted sarcastically. “Bunny, darling, it wouldn’t really be rape since I’m more than willing.”
(O-only because I want to get my life back to normal, where there are no constant dreams of Alfred kissing me, holding me, loving me and…and…Yes, I just want to get my life back to normal. That’s the only reason I want to fuck him…of course.)
She clicked her tongue against her teeth and stood up, putting her hands on her hips. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve got another plan anyway.”
Bunny blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you know where my brother Seamus keeps the rum, right?”
“Yeah, in the cellar, but what does-?” The fairy’s eyes widened at Lizzie. “No.”
She smirked back. “Oh, yes.”
“B-but, Lizzie, you know what happens when you drink, especially if it’s rum!”
“Oh, lovey, of course I do.” Lizzie’s smirk grew, and her green eyes glinted.
And soon, so will Alfred.
**
That night, Alfred was alone in his house. His parents had left to attend some party with their friends, and Mattie was currently staying at Beilscmidt’s house (much to his chagrin), and probably would stay the night, if Alfred knew his brother as well as he thought he did.
Which means that Alfred was alone in his huge, empty house, and bored (N-n-not scared! I have no idea how you could think that! Heroes never get scared, heh-heh…).
Now, for one such as Alfred, boredom usually led to either playing videogames, or sleeping.
And, since our hero wanted to avoid sleeping and/or dreaming possibly for the rest of his life…
“Maybe I can call Kiku up to play Dante’s Inferno,” he spoke lightly, as if he wasn’t trying to avoid thinking about…that girl. “He could probably be a lot of help with that part in the Greed level…”
(Once again, no, I’m not scared! It’s just…those freaky winged demons are really hard to kill………Stop it, I can see you smiling.)
Just as he was about to pick up his phone, however, Alfred heard doorbell ring.
He paled slightly, recalling a scene from a horror movie, when a teenager had been left alone in their house, and when they opened their door and there was the killer…!
Oh, wait, that had been a teenage girl, though. False alarm! Alfred grinned to himself and walked downstairs to answer the door.
But then the comedy relief guy had been killed soon after…
Well, it’s a good thing I’m the hero, and not the comedy relief. He grinned to himself confidently as he approached his door.
Even though I’m loud, constantly making jokes, am vying for the affections of a girl with a more reserved personality (what happened in the nurse’s office didn’t count!)...
Oh, crap, I’m a comedy relief character.
Alfred gulped harshly. This really isn’t my day, is it?
The doorbell rang again, followed by a hard pounding on the door, and the American felt a shiver go up his spine. Despite his (Not fear!) nervousness, Alfred took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.
Suddenly his heart stopped, but not because the person was a killer or something. Instead, standing there was a familiar blonde girl with dazed green eyes and extremely flushed cheeks. Her hair was still loose, but was now all messed up, and her uniform was still on, though slightly ruffled up in some places. She glared up at Alfred, her lips drawn into a pout that was probably meant to intimidate him.
“Well, it’s ‘bout time ya blooming wanker!”
Alfred blinked for a beat. “Lizzie?”
“Well, duh, who else would it be?” Lizzie slurred and, despite her wobbly stance, managed to walk passed him. Alfred watched after her, still feeling shocked, as well as an odd aura of foreboding.
“Uh, please come in,” he said, almost sarcastically, as he closed and re-locked the door. He then turned to stare at Lizzie, his head tilted to the side slightly. The British girl hummed and looked at the house with a critical eye and her hands on her hips…
God, her legs look nice-GAH!
Alfred shook his head and tried to focus his thoughts.
“Lizzie, what are you doing here?” He asked seriously, causing the girl to turn around to look at him, her expression unreadable.
She shrugged. “You said that you would see me later, and here I am.”
“Well, yeah, but I meant on Monday,” he replied awkwardly. “You know, after this weekend?”
Lizzie clicked her teeth and waved it off. “Technicalities. Besides…”
A smirk appeared on her face, making Alfred tense up (in more ways than one), and he only became tenser as Lizzie sauntered over to him until she was a mere inch away. Alfred didn’t even move (probably didn’t want to move) as she brushed her lips against his earlobe.
“I didn’t want to wait,” she purred.
He swallowed. “W-wait for what?”
Though, really, as if he didn’t know.
“For this.”
Before Alfred realized it, two delicate hands grasped at the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him down to crash his lips against another pair that was as soft and warmed as he’d imagined they would be. For a moment, he just stood there as she languidly moved her lips against his, wide-eyed and unresponsive. Then Lizzie released a soft moan and ran a hand through his hair, and Alfred’s heart thumped.
Needless to say, any restraint the American had went out the window at that point.
“Mmph!” Lizzie’s eyes shot open when she felt herself being picked up by strong arms and she gasped as her back impacted against the front door. Then Lizzie meshed her lips against Alfred’s again, her head buzzing with excitement when she realized that the American was responding with a fervor that made her feel weak in the knees. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, causing friction between their bodies, though not the friction Lizzie had desired for the past few weeks (perhaps even longer).
Still blushing, Lizzie glared at him and pushed on his shoulders so she could glare at him properly. Alfred returned the glare with a bright, clueless grin.
"You prat, you already know!"
"Do I? I'm not quite sure I do. You'll have to clarify."
"Bloody tease," Lizzie grumbled, and then, "Fine."
Alfred grinned, thinking that he won, but soon looked confused when he felt Lizzie take his hand in hers and start guiding it down her body, starting from her neck, down to her chest (which Alfred groped lightly, just to make Lizzie more flustered), her abdomen, and then ending at the hem of her skirt. As both teenagers gulped lightly, Lizzie placed Alfred's hand on her thigh and then guided it up her skirt and into her underwear, causing his fingers to brush against...
A blush flooded his face. Oh.
Lizzie wrapped her other arm tighter around his neck and rested her chin on his shoulder, her head turned so she was now breathing heavily against his neck.
"Is this...enough clarification for you?" She pushed his finger against her heated core, making sure to put pressure on the moist skin.
Alfred remained stunned until Lizzie let out a soft cry that went straight to his groin. His eyes narrowed with determination and he quickly regained control of his hand and took over Lizzie's job, making sure to gently rub the sensitive nub that resulted in his Class President--usually so steadfast and demanding of order--trembling and crying out in desperation. Lizzie moaned at his ministrations and wrapped her other arm around his neck, still burying her face against his neck. Then she started to worship the skin there, rotating between kissing, nipping, licking, and suckling on the flesh.
"Please," she whimpered over and over as she mouthed his pulse point. "Please, Alfred."
Alfred chuckled hoarsely, trying to ignore those arousing sounds. "Damn it, Lizzie, I wanted to take this slow. How am I supposed to do that when you're ruining my concentration?"
As an answer, the Brit clenched her legs tighter around him, and then bucked her hips forward, making sure to grind against his groin. The movement caused the breath to be pulled out of Alfred, and he ended up burying his face into her neck, his groan barely stifled by his grit teeth. He moved the previously-occupied (not to mention slightly damp) hand against the wall in order to brace himself in place.
"Oh, what's the matter, love?" Lizzie asked against his ear, her tone a mockery of innocence. "Not going to last long, are you? You poor dear."
Alfred panted slightly as his earlobe was nipped lightly. Fuck, she was driving him insane (even more than usual)...
"If it's so bad, then why don't you just take what you want," she continued, kissing him sweetly on his cheek. "I'm more than willing, you know. Just do it, and I'll finally be yours."
He could feel her smirk against his skin, "Only yours."
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"Hope you realize what you're gettin' into, darlin," he said with a slight Southern drawl as he removed the girl's glasses and put them to the side. Wouldn't want to get them damaged, after all; besides, she wouldn't need them.
With that said, Alfred wasted no time removing Lizzie's hands from his neck, and then pinning her arms above her head with one hand wrapped around both wrists. Lizzie gasped, stunned at his gesture, but smirked nonetheless as she linked her ankles together. Alfred then moved his free hand up her skirt and swiftly started ripping off her panties from one side. He was going to rip the fabric obstacle off completely, but after a few seconds of thinking about it, Alfred decided just to rip enough to make it easy to pull down, yet also allow it to dangle from one of Lizzie's legs.
Once her panties were dangling near her knee, Alfred quickly guided his length towards his goal, finally finding it after the second try, and then he slowly entered the moist cavern, inch by inch.
God, it was incredible--more than any fantasy, any dream that had seeped inside Alfred's mind in the past. Lizzie was so hot and wet all around him, wrapping him up tightly, perhaps even too tightly, as he filled her to the hilt. And yet, despite her tightness, Alfred couldn't help but think they were a perfect fit, as if she was made solely for him, and he for her. Feeling that familiar warmth bubble in his chest once more, Alfred closed his eyes, smiled, and kissed Lizzie's trembling lips with all the passion he could muster, trying to convey all the feelings he felt for her, feelings that he wasn't confident enough (yet) to admit out loud. Despite his kiss, though, Alfred didn't dare move; he wanted to savor this moment.
(Un)Fortunately, Lizzie wasn't as patient.
"Alfred," she whined when he stopped kissing her. "D-don't stop now! I need...please!"
Alfred chuckled lightly, and then, suddenly feeling a desire to see her more clearly, he pulled on the chain above him that lit up the closet. When he finally got a good look on her, Alfred felt something clench in his chest.
Lizzie looked up at him, her eyes glistening with lust, and her cheeks flushed a bright red. Her parted lips were still red, and slightly bruised, but still as kissable as ever, possibly even more so as she released desperate keening sounds from her mouth. Her neck and part of her chest (which was still covered in a bra--Alfred seriously needed to fix that soon) was littered with red marks and bruises that would have to be covered with make-up. Her blonde hair, usually neatly tied with two pigtails one her head, was now all mussed up, her clips gone and allowing her bangs to fall slightly over her eyes. Her pigtails were still intact, but that was only because Alfred had decided to keep them there.
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Needless to say, Alfred doubted that anyone had ever seen the pristine English lady like this--so flustered and full of want and so, so beautiful. Not Francis, not Antonio, not Kiku (not that Alfred had to worry about him anyway, since he obviously carried a torch for that Greek guy, but that's beside the point)--only he was gifted with this image of Lizzie.
That alone was enough for Alfred to smile with pride as he gently brushed Lizzie's bangs from her face, coaxing the girl to blink up in confusion and slight concern. Lizzie managed to free one of her hands out of his now loose hold, and she cupped his face worriedly, even though her body was still shuddering slightly from adjusting to Alfred's size.
"Alfred?" she asked tentatively.
Alfred's smile widened as he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes briefly.
When he opened them again, he smirked and grabbed Lizzie's hand, and then pinned it firmly alongside her other one.
Lizzie's mouth parted with surprise, and she was probably about to say something--but she was cut off when Alfred pulled back and abruptly thrust into her. A loud moan of pleasure erupted from her shamelessly as her eyes clenched closed.
Mine.
Alfred's smirk widened as he proceeded to thrust harder, wanting to hear Lizzie scream until her throat was raw. (His name, preferably. But Alfred wasn't really that picky right now, to be honest.)
All mine...
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Back in Reality!
"Alfred?" Knock, knock.
"..."
"Alfred, you have to get up, we've gotta go to school."
"..."
"Alfred."
"...!"
Sigh. "Fine, I'm coming in."
Matthew slowly opened the door to his older brother's room and tentatively stepped inside. As usual, the room was a mess, with clothes thrown onto furniture and papers and books all over the floor, along with other miscellaneous objects. Matthew shook his head slightly, and walked towards the bed, where his brother was sprawled. He must have been tossing and turning the whole night, because the sheets had been pulled slightly off of the mattress.
The smaller teen sighed, but smiled fondly at his brother as he gently put a hand on Alfred's shoulder, trying to shake him awake. Unfortunately for Matthew, this was like trying to move a boulder with one's bare hands, so he knew that it would take a while.
What he didn't predict was, well...
"Mmm, Lizzie," Alfred smiled in his sleep.
...Say what? Matthew scratched his head in confusion as he tried to place a face to the name. Lizzie? As in Elizabeth Kirkland, that Lizzie? Wasn't she that girl Alfred always talked (ranted) about...?
"Yeah...you like that, baby?"
Matthew froze, his skin paling (well, even more). W-w-what?
"God, you feel sooo good...!"
That was pretty much all the Canadian heard before promptly running out of the room. He shut the door behind him and leaned against it, his mind still stunned at hearing groans and many other...dirty things coming from his brother's mouth. A muffled sound came from the door, making Matthew jump away from it like it burned. He looked at the door with wide, frightened eyes, his whole body trembling with shock.
Dear sweet Maple, he thought. I think I've died a little inside.
With that thought, Matthew shuddered and then made his way down the stairs again, his steps robotic.
As he walked inside the kitchen, he was greeted jovially by a certain albino German (oh, I'm sorry, Prussian), and fellow student at World Academy (a senior), who had--once again--somehow snuck inside Alfred and Matthew's house, despite all the doors and windows being locked.
"Morning, Birdie!" Gilbert grinned as he struck a pose. "The awesome me has once again come up on you this morning, in order to be served pancakes doused in the awesomeness (though not as awesome as me) that is maple syrup! Now, you should consider yourself lucky that I'm not completely raging on you and your vital regions right now for making me wait, because if it had been anyone else, I--"
Gilbert paused in his rant, finally realizing that he wasn't getting a response, and his grin dimmed into a facial expression looking akin to worry. (Not that he'd ever admit to worrying about someone out loud; he was way too awesome for that.)
"M-Mattie?" He went over to the near-catatonic boy and looked into the now dull violet eyes. A sudden wave of protectiveness came over him, and Gilbert automatically prepared himself for killing whoever had dared to hurt his Birdie. (O-only because I want him to make his awesome pancakes. Ja!)
"Gil, I..."
"Yes, Mattie, what happened?" Gilbert firmly placed his hands on the younger teen's (by a year) shoulders.
"Alfred, he..." Matthew's eyes teared up slightly, causing Gilbert's heart to ache and his blood to boil.
Verdammt, he raged internally. That American dummkof probably forgot Mattie again. He probably left the poor kid stranded on some street, forcing him to walk home in the dark, cold night, where muggers and creepers were looking for fresh prey like him. Or better yet, he didn't control himself--again--when the two of them were playing catch. That fast-food idiot! He knew that Mattie wasn't strong enough to handle having a fast ball thrown to his face over and over again...
"...I walked in on Alfred having a wet dream about some girl!"
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Gilbert immediately relaxed and allowed himself to smile easily down at the still traumatized boy.
"Is that all?" He laughed.
Matthew glared at him. "What do you mean, 'Is that all'? Gil, it was disturbing! I never want to go through something like that ever again! And to make matters worse, Alfred's not waking up and we're going to be late and--"
A pale finger was placed on his lips, stunning him into silence.
"Calm down, Mattie, and stop worrying. I'll get your brother to wake up." Gilbert winked playfully as he removed his finger, and then he started walking towards the stairs.
Matthew blinked and then smiled softly, a slight warmth spreading across his cheeks.
"Thanks, Gil," he said.
"No problem, Mattie. Your brother has a megaphone, right?"
"Oh, yeah. It's in is room, right on top of the bureau."
"Perfect. Danke."
"No prob--" Matthew blinked, and then panicked, realizing his mistake. He ran after Gilbert, desperate to stop him. "Wait, Gilbert, don't--"
Unfortunately, he was already too late.
"HEY YOU, AMERICAN IDIOT! GET YO' ASS UP SO MATTIE CAN MAKE ME MY DAMN PANCAKES!"
Matthew abruptly heard a crash from Alfred's room, followed by a pained groan that was no doubt from his brother. He groaned softly and held the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, trying to head off the oncoming headache he knew would come.
"What the hell? Beilschmidt?! Why are you--How did you?....MATTIE, HOW THE HELL DID THIS FREAK GET INTO OUR HOUSE?"
"Philistine American, don't you know that you can't keep out the awesome? I will ALWAYS find a way in!....'Cause I'm awesome, and you're not. So, nyeh!"
"Ha, shows how much you know, you friggin' stalker. If there's anyone who's the awesome here, it's ME!"
Gasp. "Oh, no, you didn't...!"
...Yeah, no luck for Mattie there.
As his older brother and...sort of friend (it's a little hard to tell sometimes) continued to argue, like they did every morning, Matthew ventured back into the kitchen and began to make his famous pancakes. It was only a matter of time before the two idiots got hungry, after all.
Matthew listened to the screaming and yelling with closed eyes and a twitching eyebrow. While he did, another presence in the kitchen quickly made itself known as it nuzzled against his ankle, trying to get his attention.
"Ah, Kumakichi!" He opened his eyes and crouched down to fondly pet the polar bear. "I guess you just woke up, huh? I wouldn't be surprised, what with the racket those two idiots make."
Kumajiro tilted his head, his beady eyes revealing nothing.
"Just another day in the life of Matthew Williams, huh?" Mattie stood up with a smile.
A beat.
"...Who are you?"
"Oh, now don't even start!"
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Oh my, Alfred's dream is seriously hot. I so can't wait to see more of this fic and more smexy parts
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“Ve~, Alfred!” Feliciano Vargas greeted, smiling obliviously. “How are you today?”
Alfred paused in his movements to give the Italian such an infuriating glare that even Ivan Braginski, who just so happened to be standing by, shrank away slightly.
“Piss off, Pasta breath,” he sneered.
Feliciano’s eyes watered as he shivered as he stared at the tall American with fear. Finally, with trembling lips and tears streaming down his cheeks, the teen whipped around and ran off, crying out:
“Ludwig, help! Come protect me from the crazy American…!”
Everyone else in the hallway blinked at the Italian’s back as he quickly became a speck, and then they turned to look at Alfred.
The tall boy noticed the stares, and his blue eyes narrowed dangerously as he let out a low growl that rumbled in the air, immediately leading to the other wide eyed students to shrink back (some even hid behind each other), creating a clear pathway for the American to go through. Alfred glared at them all for a moment, and then he shoved his clenched hands in his pockets and went on his way, leaving everyone in stunned silence.
“Like, what the hell was that about?” A Polish student whispered to the brown haired boy standing next to him, who shrugged shakily.
“He’s been acting like that all week,” Toris explained, his voice hinting some concern. “No one knows why.”
“Wow, like, talk about freaky!”
Though his blood boiled at the incredulous whispers and occasional insults, Alfred couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Once he was a good few feet away from the frightened students, his shoulder slumped.
It’s official, he somberly concluded as he ran a hand through his hair, I’m going insane.
He shook his head, sighing with frustration, and then walked into his next class, Trigonometry. Next would be History, then P.E., and then he would be out of there. As long as he kept telling himself this, Alfred was sure he wouldn’t completely crack.
Ignoring all the weird stares from his peers, Alfred quickly chose a seat by the window and sat down in it. He leaned his chin on his palm and closed his eyes, trying to block out the rest of the world-and trying not to think of the dream he had had that morning.
“Ah-Alfred!”
…Which, as you can guess, is easier said than done.
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God damn it, why me?
That morning’s dream was, like-what?-the fifteenth “Lizzie dream” he’d had in a row (and that didn’t even include the daydreams.) At first these dreams weren’t so bad-in fact, the first few were really nice. They still included the sex, but they were more…traditional, you could say. For example, instead of a closet or against a wall (like this morning’s dream), it would happen on a bed, one that was soft, warm, and covered in pure white sheets that would always cover both him and Lizzie, as if to hide them from the rest of the world. Each sensual movement between the two of them was slow and gentle, yet just as blazingly passionate, taking them both to heights that culminated in a euphoric release. The sex was utterly cliché, so vanilla that it would probably make a sexual connoisseur like Francis gag, and yet it was the sort of sex Alfred truly envisioned having with Lizzie. (Not that he’d ever admit it, the stubborn ass that he is.)
Then, after a few nights of this, the dreams got progressively…rougher, not to mention more vivid. Actually, to properly describe these dreams (as vulgar as it might be), is to compare them to a typical hardcore porno. No, seriously; each dream was a different scenario, and it featured the type of sex that would make Alfred blush so hard that he couldn’t look his own mother in the eye, for fear of her discovering his guilty pleasure.
One of the dreams had Lizzie dressed up as a pirate queen, for god’s sake-with Alfred featured as “Captain Kirkland’s” personal prisoner, to make matters even weirder (and possibly cheesier)!
(Okay, I won’t lie; that one was kinda hot…but still, what the hell subconscious?)
Anyway, the point was that the dreams had gotten steadily worse-so much so, that he couldn’t even…
The familiar sound of heels clacking on the floor made Alfred’s ears perk up, and he immediately picked his head up.
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(Her eyebrows are still bushy though-but I love them anyway, so it’s all good.)
Those same green eyes regarded Alfred with a blank look before Lizzie nodded at him and sat down in the desk next to him.
“Jones,” she greeted.
At the sound of her voice, a lump formed in Alfred’s throat, and red flooded his cheeks. He quickly hid his guilt with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
…So much so, that he couldn’t even be in the same room with Lizzie without feeling uneasy.
“H-hey, Lizzie,” he coughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck with a shaky hand.
That’s right; I have this class with her…God fucking damn it, just my luck; I make it practically to the end of the day and now…
“So, uh, how are you?”
Lizzie seemed to hesitate before answering, “I’m fine. You?”
“Of course, I’m the poster child of fine! Nothing wrong with me, ha-ha-ha!” Alfred laughed nervously, his eyes darting away, trying to look anywhere but at the girl.
“…Right,” was the flat reply. (…Is she…smirking?!) Then, as the teacher walked in and started speaking, Lizzie turned to face ahead with an unreadable expression.
After a few minutes of the teacher droning on and on about trig equations, Alfred quickly found himself bored and droning out the noise. As he did, he couldn’t help but observe Lizzie from the corner of his eye; the way she paid so close attention to the teacher, how she’d nibble on her lower lip in concentration as she wrote down the solutions to the problems on the board, and how she answered questions with an unwavering confidence in her voice…
Oh, God, her voice, and with that thought, the guilt came spilling back.
He couldn’t help but think about how that same voice had cried and screamed out in pleasure in his dreams, and as turned on-not to mention sexually frustrated (That damn dream interrupting albino, Mattie-obsessed German asshole…!)-as he had been, he still couldn’t help but feel bad about it, as well as the previous dreams he’d had. I mean, not only would Lizzie probably smack him and never want to speak to him again (if she ever found out, of course), but she would probably be disgusted that she’d been thought of in such a way, the prude that she was. Then, of course, there were the daydreams he had-when he’d look at Lizzie doing something innocent, such as her tendency to chew her pen, and then think something along the lines of: That pretty mouth could be put to such better use…
Alfred blushed furiously as his eyes widened, and then he promptly began to slam his head against his desk.
Must. Stop. Thinking. PERVERTED. THOUGHTS! He screamed internally each time his head made a painful impact.
“Alfred?” He heard his teacher say vaguely, but continued anyway.
HEROES. AREN’T. PERVERTS…well, Batman might be, what with the ass he tends to get…but still!
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“Jones,” a worried accented voice cried out, making Alfred’s heart jump before he could even recognize it. “…Alfred?”
God, I love how she says my name…. “Yes, pretty lady,” Alfred replied with a rather dazed smile.
There was a faint sound of a hand smacking against skin (most likely a forehead). “Oh, dear lord…Sir, is it all right if I bring him to the nurse?”
“Um, yes, please do so Miss Kirkland.”
Next thing Alfred knew, he was laid out on a cot, and Lizzie was sitting beside him, looking through the first aid kit on her lap.
“What’s going on,” he asked, slurring slightly.
Lizzie looked at him, her expression unreadable. “You hit your head too hard, but it’s not too bad. It’s just a scratch.”
She then took out some iodine, poured a few drops on a cotton ball, and then she started to dab his forehead, much to the confusion of Alfred (not that he minded, he just didn’t peg her for the Florence Nightingale type). If Lizzie noticed, she didn’t say anything; she just continued to clean the wound, and then put a band aid on it, her eyes narrow in concentration, as if she was taking special care not to mess up. Alfred couldn’t help but smile at the sight. (Aw…Uh, I mean, that’s not cute, it's, uh-oh fuck it, I’m not fooling anyone: AW!!)
“Thanks,” he said softly, once she was done.
Lizzie looked away from him, her cheeks blushing lightly as she scowled. “I-it’s not like I wanted to, or anything. I just did it because the nurse isn’t here, for some reason or another.”
“Uh-huh, sure that’s the reason.” A smirk grew on his face as he winked. “You know you can’t resist me.”
The blush on Lizzie’s face grew as she glared at him. “Stupid, arrogant yank!” She promptly punched his arm.
Alfred took the insult and hit in stride, breaking out into laughter and a brilliant smile. See? This is how it’s supposed to be. Just me, Lizzie, her yelling, and her cute blush. No thinking about what it’s like to kiss her, touch her, or…
…God damn it.
He immediately sat up to leave, making sure to avoid Lizzie’s gaze. Alfred needed to get out of that room fast, away from her, otherwise-otherwise he wouldn’t know what he’d do.
A small hand on the sleeve of his bomber jacket pulled him back reluctantly.
“Alfred, we need to talk.”
Shit.
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“W-why? There’s nothing wrong, not with me anyway,” he chuckled shakily.
With eyes narrowed, Lizzie stood up and walked over to him, making Alfred panic and take a step back. That seems to make the English girl angrier, if the glint in her eyes is any indication, but she keeps walking forward until Alfred found himself backed up against a wall. He knew that he could easily move and get away from her, but for some reason his body wouldn’t move.
Knowing that she had Alfred basically trapped, Lizzie stood in front of him, her body just inches from his own, and glared at him.
“Now, listen here, Mr. Jones, you may fool the rest of the school, but I will not take that shite from you,” she poked his chest in irritation. “For the past week, you’ve been either too irritable or too quiet-”
“I thought you’d like it if I was quieter,” Alfred teased evasively.
“Don’t change the subject, git! The fact is that you’ve been acting really odd this week-and it’s not just with everyone else in the school, but with me as well!” When his eyes widened, Lizzie smirked smugly, though her eyes held no humor. “Oh, you didn’t think I noticed, did you? That you’ve been avoiding me, that you’ve barely talked to me, that you won’t even look me in the eye anymore!”
To make her point, Lizzie took his chin in her hands and guided him to lock his guilty blue eyes with her frustrated green eyes. As the two of them stared at each other, the girl’s eyes softened, and she loosened her grip on his chin.
“Listen, it’s not that I care or anything, but,” she bit her lip, looking away hesitantly, and then she looked back at him, her cheeks flushing slightly. “As your Student Council President, it’s my job to make sure that the students of World Academy aren’t having any…problems.”
Problems? Alfred blushed.
“And if there are problems, well, it’s my job to help in any way I can.” Despite the pink on her cheeks, nothing on Lizzie’s face implied a deeper meaning to her words.
But her way too soft voice…and the way her hands burned against his skin…. He briefly looked up at the ceiling pleadingly. Why me?
“So, Alfred,” Lizzie said softly, almost purring as her eyes misted over slightly. “If there’s anything you need, anything at all, just know that I’m right here to help you.”
Oh, fuck me.
(Yes, please, a lusty voice cried in his head.
Not. Now!)
As he looked down at her, Alfred couldn’t help but gape in disbelief. Did Elizabeth not realize the sexual connotations behind her words? Or how she had said them? Or how she was still touching his face, as if she was going to pull him down for a kiss? No, she couldn’t have-there was no way Elizabeth Kirkland would flirt with him so blatantly, let alone at all. This must have been another dream, Alfred thought almost desperately. Or just wishful thinking on my part…
He cleared his throat and forced on a smile. “Really, Lizzie, I…”
What the hell are you doing? That same voice cried out from the recesses of his mind. She said that she’ll help you with “anything”; she’s practically offering herself on a silver platter!
Which is all the more reason not to do anything.
Or at least, that’s what Alfred has been telling himself for the past week. It was all he could do to prevent himself from pulling Lizzie into a secluded area and having his way with her, and yet…
“Alfred?”
There was still that nagging in the back of his mind, an incredibly weak part, begging out for flesh, heat, and release.
Lizzie moved one hand to rest on his elbow, while the other cupped his hot cheek, stroking the skin with her thumb.
A part of Alfred that was currently screaming, what with Lizzie so close to him-and weakening his resolve more and more.
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“I, um, well…” He quickly averted his gaze, licking his dry lips. “Lizzie…”
The hand on his cheek moved towards his shirt collar, the soft knuckles brushing against his skin, making it break out in goose bumps.
He then felt Lizzie lean up to whisper in his ear, “Yes?”
“I want you.”
Alfred stiffened, just as Lizzie picked up her head and looked up at him with a quirked eyebrow.
“I…said that out loud, didn’t I?” The American laughed nervously, his cheeks bright red.
Much to his surprise, the British girl replied with a wide smirk and narrowed eyes, looking very much like a cat cornering a canary-
Which should NOT make me hot! Even as he thought it, though, Alfred felt his blood flow down south, causing his cock to twitch and his pants to tighten. He couldn’t help but glare down at himself, one of his eyebrows twitching. Damn it, why aren’t you listening to me?!
A soft giggle brought his eyes back up to lock on sultry green, and his heart jumped. Then Lizzie leaned up to get her face towards his, her eyes fluttering closed. Against his better judgment, Alfred leaned towards her also, his eyes closing automatically as he blocked out everything except Lizzie’s warmth and the roaring in his ears.
Just one kiss…No harm can come from one kiss, right?
As their lips brushed against each other, Alfred was certain: Right.
BAM! The door was thrown open, making the two hormonal teenagers freeze in place.
“Ah, I’m sorry to have kept you two waiting so long!” The young nurse cried out worriedly, her ample chest bouncing almost obnoxiously as she ran inside the room. She looked at the two teens, noticing how close they were, but oblivious to the fact that she’d interrupted something.
“Um,” Alfred smiled awkwardly at the nurse. “It’s okay, Ms. Braginski.”
Meanwhile, Elizabeth’s hands were braced on the wall, on either side of him, as her head bent down, hiding her expression.
“Yes, Ms. Braginski, it’s fine. You just had impeccable timing, is all.”
Even though her voice sounded pleasant, Alfred became clearly aware of the fact that Lizzie had started scratching down the wall when she’d said “impeccable”, looking similar to when that Natalya chick had once tried to get through a locked room where Ivan had hidden.
…Well, at least she’s not saying ‘Marry me’, he thought wryly.
Katyusha looked at them, her eyes full of concern. “Did either of you get sick or hurt?”
That suddenly gave Alfred an idea, and he gave the young woman a smile. “Actually, I hit my head a while ago, and it really hurt. Is it okay if I just go home and rest?”
The nurse blinked, and then nodded with a small smile. “If you think that’s best.”
He winked at her, grinning. “Thanks, Miss B.”
Then Alfred gently pried one of Lizzie’s arms away from the wall and walked around the Brit to get his messenger bag. Before he walked out, he paused to awkwardly look at Lizzie, who was still looking down at the floor, her bangs covering her eyes and hiding her expression. The sight still made his chest clench, but his conscience (which got off from that little break it seemed to have taken a few minutes ago) told him that this was the right thing to do. If he stayed around her for the rest of the day, he wasn’t sure what he’d do to her-and he didn’t want to risk finding out.
“Hey, Lizzie,” he ruffled her hair playfully, though lightly. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” went her monotone voice. “Later.”
Alfred cringed at the emotionless tone (I think I prefer it when she yells at me), but looked away as he walked out of the room. This is for your own good, Lizzie, I promise.
Even as he said that, though, that primal voice in his mind was yelling for him to go back and claim…claim…claim!
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The door to the Student Council office was kicked open, revealing one extremely red and very, very pissed off British girl, who promptly slammed it closed behind her as she stomped around the room.
“The nerve of him, getting up and walking out just before we…before we…” Elizabeth let out a frustrated scream from clenched teeth and grasped at her hair, nearly tugging the blonde strands out.
Finally, she sat on the sofa, staring off into space angrily, though also looking confused. “I don’t understand. Why is he hesitating?”
A soft tinkle, sounding somewhat like a bell, rang near her ear as a familiar voice said, “Maybe he’s shy?”
Lizzie scoffed. “That’s a load of bollocks, Flying Mint Bunny. I mean, Alfred’s been teasing me for years-and now, all of a sudden, he gets shy? It just doesn’t make any sense!”
“Well, think about it, Elizabeth,” said the rabbit shaped fairy in a knowing tone, “he’s probably feeling an influx of hormones that are too much for him to control, and that combined with the dreams, and the lust he feels for you as a result, which just gets worse whenever you’re in the room…It probably scares him.”
“Perhaps, but those uncontrollable hormones should be enough to make him want to…to…ugh, you know,” Lizzie turned away, her cheeks blushing. “I mean, that’s what the pollen is supposed to do-maximize your libido, make you lose all inhibitions, and all that crap. That should be more than enough for Alfred to act.”
“Yeah, but do you remember the previous cases we told you about,” Flying Mint Bunny replied, sounding slightly worried. “About how all the other people who used the pollen reacted, and what the usual end result was?”
Lizzie contemplated for a moment, and then snorted sarcastically. “Bunny, darling, it wouldn’t really be rape since I’m more than willing.”
(O-only because I want to get my life back to normal, where there are no constant dreams of Alfred kissing me, holding me, loving me and…and…Yes, I just want to get my life back to normal. That’s the only reason I want to fuck him…of course.)
She clicked her tongue against her teeth and stood up, putting her hands on her hips. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve got another plan anyway.”
Bunny blinked. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you know where my brother Seamus keeps the rum, right?”
“Yeah, in the cellar, but what does-?” The fairy’s eyes widened at Lizzie. “No.”
She smirked back. “Oh, yes.”
“B-but, Lizzie, you know what happens when you drink, especially if it’s rum!”
“Oh, lovey, of course I do.” Lizzie’s smirk grew, and her green eyes glinted.
And soon, so will Alfred.
**
That night, Alfred was alone in his house. His parents had left to attend some party with their friends, and Mattie was currently staying at Beilscmidt’s house (much to his chagrin), and probably would stay the night, if Alfred knew his brother as well as he thought he did.
Which means that Alfred was alone in his huge, empty house, and bored (N-n-not scared! I have no idea how you could think that! Heroes never get scared, heh-heh…).
Now, for one such as Alfred, boredom usually led to either playing videogames, or sleeping.
And, since our hero wanted to avoid sleeping and/or dreaming possibly for the rest of his life…
“Maybe I can call Kiku up to play Dante’s Inferno,” he spoke lightly, as if he wasn’t trying to avoid thinking about…that girl. “He could probably be a lot of help with that part in the Greed level…”
(Once again, no, I’m not scared! It’s just…those freaky winged demons are really hard to kill………Stop it, I can see you smiling.)
Just as he was about to pick up his phone, however, Alfred heard doorbell ring.
He paled slightly, recalling a scene from a horror movie, when a teenager had been left alone in their house, and when they opened their door and there was the killer…!
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But then the comedy relief guy had been killed soon after…
Well, it’s a good thing I’m the hero, and not the comedy relief. He grinned to himself confidently as he approached his door.
Even though I’m loud, constantly making jokes, am vying for the affections of a girl with a more reserved personality (what happened in the nurse’s office didn’t count!)...
Oh, crap, I’m a comedy relief character.
Alfred gulped harshly. This really isn’t my day, is it?
The doorbell rang again, followed by a hard pounding on the door, and the American felt a shiver go up his spine. Despite his (Not fear!) nervousness, Alfred took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.
Suddenly his heart stopped, but not because the person was a killer or something. Instead, standing there was a familiar blonde girl with dazed green eyes and extremely flushed cheeks. Her hair was still loose, but was now all messed up, and her uniform was still on, though slightly ruffled up in some places. She glared up at Alfred, her lips drawn into a pout that was probably meant to intimidate him.
“Well, it’s ‘bout time ya blooming wanker!”
Alfred blinked for a beat. “Lizzie?”
“Well, duh, who else would it be?” Lizzie slurred and, despite her wobbly stance, managed to walk passed him. Alfred watched after her, still feeling shocked, as well as an odd aura of foreboding.
“Uh, please come in,” he said, almost sarcastically, as he closed and re-locked the door. He then turned to stare at Lizzie, his head tilted to the side slightly. The British girl hummed and looked at the house with a critical eye and her hands on her hips…
God, her legs look nice-GAH!
Alfred shook his head and tried to focus his thoughts.
“Lizzie, what are you doing here?” He asked seriously, causing the girl to turn around to look at him, her expression unreadable.
She shrugged. “You said that you would see me later, and here I am.”
“Well, yeah, but I meant on Monday,” he replied awkwardly. “You know, after this weekend?”
Lizzie clicked her teeth and waved it off. “Technicalities. Besides…”
A smirk appeared on her face, making Alfred tense up (in more ways than one), and he only became tenser as Lizzie sauntered over to him until she was a mere inch away. Alfred didn’t even move (probably didn’t want to move) as she brushed her lips against his earlobe.
“I didn’t want to wait,” she purred.
He swallowed. “W-wait for what?”
Though, really, as if he didn’t know.
“For this.”
Before Alfred realized it, two delicate hands grasped at the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him down to crash his lips against another pair that was as soft and warmed as he’d imagined they would be. For a moment, he just stood there as she languidly moved her lips against his, wide-eyed and unresponsive. Then Lizzie released a soft moan and ran a hand through his hair, and Alfred’s heart thumped.
Needless to say, any restraint the American had went out the window at that point.
“Mmph!” Lizzie’s eyes shot open when she felt herself being picked up by strong arms and she gasped as her back impacted against the front door. Then Lizzie meshed her lips against Alfred’s again, her head buzzing with excitement when she realized that the American was responding with a fervor that made her feel weak in the knees. She immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, causing friction between their bodies, though not the friction Lizzie had desired for the past few weeks (perhaps even longer).
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