"Crush" by Phoenix

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Okay so here it is. I do not own Hetalia blah blah blah. Enjoy. The Lemon is going to be....ah.... Interesting. Cuase he's into BDSM and I don't really know how to do that so... we'll see. Good God. Do you ever go back and read your own writing and think, holy shit what the fuck was I doing? I'm rewriting this. You're welcome. Updated 4/30/14
West decides that you are going to go hiking and camping with him. “There’s a cabin I own in the woods,” he explains looking rather nervous. “There’s running water and gas. No electricity, though I do have a generator…I suppose it’s not really camping.” He scratches the back of his head when he speaks to you and you have the urge to run your fingers through his hair.

Truth be told, you are excited to go; you love the outdoors you always have. It also helps that you have the biggest crush on Ludwig. The man is gorgeous even if he is intimidating. You aren’t ashamed to admit that his being intimidating is part of the reason why you’re attracted to him. “I would love to go mock camping with you!” Smiling you rush upstairs to change: a pair of shorts and a tank top should do nicely. You pretend that you don’t notice how short the shorts are, or how tight the tank top is. Quickly, you pack a bag, not bothering to do it neatly. When you come down the stairs to see West in a pair of cargo shorts and a tight white tee, you stop dead in your tracks to marvel at the wonder of West’s shoulders and arms. Fucking tree trunks, you think to yourself.

“(y/n), are you okay?” He waves a hand in front of your face and looks at you with concern. His head tilts to the side, allowing a stray piece of hair to fall gracefully in front of his face. You think that it should be a crime for a piece of hair to have that much audacity.

“I-I yes. Sorry, I’m just not used to seeing you out of your uniform.” Your explanation is rushed and you admit it is not your best. It isn’t the fact that he is out of uniform that has you gaping at him like a fish. It’s the simple fact that he looks so damn hot.

“Ah.” He says as he starts pulling on his tennis shoes. “Are you ready?” he asks looking up at you as he finishes tying his red and white shoes. You try not to watch his fingers as he ties the knots expertly. Or the way he rolls his shoulders when he raises his upper body back up.

Snapping out of your ogling, you nod excitedly and follow him out of the door. He opens your car door for you and you try not to watch the way his shoulders move: they’re just so distracting. You’ve never had a thing for shoulders before, but West has a good set on him. You wonder a little too long at how it would feel to grip them. You slide in and he shuts the door before getting in on his side. “So where are we going hiking?” you ask him curiously. He’s never told you about his cabin before. Honestly, you should have expected that he owns one.

“Themi ridge.”

“Is that the one with the waterfalls?” You can’t help the excitement dripping from your voice. You’ve been to that ridge several times over the years, but you had no idea there was a cabin there. It is one of your favorite places to go and just sit. You like the sound of the water hitting the rocks and the gentle roll of the creek it flowed into.

West smiles and you nearly melt. “Yes. It’s where I like to go to unwind.” He turns the car on, and lowers the radio down to a low mummer. You faintly think you recognize the blues number, and reach over to turn it back up again. You watch his blue eyes sparkle when you turn the radio up. He honestly didn’t know any other people that like listening to blues loudly. When he doesn’t pull out of the drive you look over at him.

“What is it West?” You hold your breath when he leans over you and grabs your seat belt and fastens it, brushing his arm lightly across your breasts. You resist the urge to smell his hair like some kind of creep.

“Your seat belt wasn’t buckled,” he explains slowly, as if you’re hard of hearing. In actuality, he’s speaking slowly so he doesn’t get tongue tied by the way you’re looking at him: your lips slightly parted, your mouth in a small “o” shape, your cheeks flushed from embarrassment. He can never tell you that he loves the way your perfume smells or how bad he wants to trace his fingers along your neck and collarbone.

His car hums along the highway and music continues to lightly come over the radio. West rolls the windows down letting air drift through the car, rustling hair and clothing. You can never tell him how much you love his hair messy. Just like he can never tell you that he loves how the air carries your perfume throughout his car. West loves having you in his car for the simple reason of it smelling like you for days after. Gilbert always teases him about his car smelling “girly”, but Ludwig takes delight in knowing that it’s you. Finally the car stops and you both practically jump out of it: you want to touch him so badly.

“Let’s get started then, we should be able to make it there before sun down,” he explains lifting your backpack out of the trunk and slipping it around your shoulders. He puts his own on next, the back of his shirt riding up to reveal two small dimples just above his butt.

You nod and follow after him. It’s not long before you’re both submerged deep into the woods. Ludwig stops in front of a fifteen-foot rock face, and observes it to find the best route to go up. With a nod, he lifts himself up and you watch how his shoulders work when he grabs three roots to pull himself. You smile at the act of sweetness when he holds his hand out to yours to help you up. He loves the way your hand seems to fit perfectly in his, as cliché as that sounds. Focusing more on his hand in yours, you don’t pay attention and your knee scraps roughly against the rock face, making you hiss in discomfort.

“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly as he looks down at you. He looks at the blood welling up on your knee and makes a mental note to clean it later.

“Yeah, just a scrape.”

Ludwig nods and continues his climb upwards. You follow him carefully, not wanting to injure yourself further. When you reach the top of rock face, Ludwig grabs your arm and heaves you over. You smile gratefully and brush your hands on your shorts. After about two hours of hiking through thick forest, you beg him to let you take a break. “Ludwig, please! I am not as he-man fit as you are. I need oxygen!”

“Alright, alright. The cabin isn’t far though.” He wishes you would just suck it up and keep walking. You’re both so close to the cabin and he wants to get your knee cleaned and bandaged. Though he knows that it’s just an excuse to get to put his hands on your bare skin again.

“Thank you!” You flop back on the ground and close your eyes, focusing on getting your breathing and heart rate back to normal. You can feel West watching you like a hawk. Your hair has slipped out of its ponytail, but you can’t bring yourself to put it back up again. You seem so serine out here to Ludwig. He’s never seen you quiet so… peaceful and at ease. Lost in his thoughts, he jumps when you let out a yelp.

“What is it?!”

“I think I just got bit by a snake!” You point to a green one slithering away from you towards a fallen down tree. Your wrist stings from where the snake bit you. You vaguely wonder why a snake would bite you, unless it felt threatened. Maybe you fell down too close to it. West leaps off the rock he’s sitting on and grabs your wrist where two little puncture wounds start to bleed. “What if it is poisonous!?”

“It isn’t poisonous.” He states matter of factly. Years of hiking have taught him to spot poisonous snakes from a mile away. But this knowledge won’t stop him from having some fun with you.

“But what if it is?” You start to panic now: it would be your luck to get bitten by a snake and die right before you’re about to spend an amazing time with the guy of your dreams. You watch with a mixture of horror and curiosity as Ludwig lowers his lips to your wrist and begins to suck. “West! You can’t do that! That’s a bad idea. You could die with me.”

“I don’t die that easily. I’m a country remember. Also I won’t die because it wasn’t poisonous.” He lowers his lips once more and sucks on the wound. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head and you struggle to keep a moan at bay. Dear God, maybe I should have faked one of these sooner. West can feel your heart rate quicken underneath his fingers and he likes it. You vaguely feel his other hand run up and down your calve, soothing you. Your toes curl in your shoes and your neck refuses to support your head any more. Unfortunately, right when you’re starting to enjoy it, he lets go and stops sucking.

“Not yet pretty one,” he whispers to you as his hand leaves your leg.

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