Voulez-vous Vous Coucher avec Moi (ce Soir)?
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Category:
+G to L › Hetalia: Axis Powers
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
2,728
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers, and I do not make any money from these writings. Honestly, do I look like a Japanese male to you?
Voulez-vous Vous Coucher avec Moi (ce Soir)?
To Spyke, who's demands are met as soon as possible
Author's Note: Whoo~ I've had this AFF account for a little while now and decided that I was going to up something meaningful. Thus, this little beaut is going to upped as I write it.
Please note that, in its entirelty, this fic is supposed to be a one-shot. It just... sort of spawned. It's a chapter (supposedly) in the longer (unnamed) Hetalia fanfic that I was working on for NaNoWriMo (and am still working on, dammit). This baby I'm upping helped me go over that 50k - and it's still a WIP...
Sorry Spyke ^_^;
Each "chapter" here corresponds to was a section in the original text. I'll try to up weekly, or as I get more portions written, ha ha ha.
To be on the safe side, I put a LOT of different warnings since I'm new at this. Most warnings are for later chapters.
Title: Voulez-Vous Vous Coucher avec Moi (ce Soir)?
Series: Hetalia: Axis Power
Characters: Germany, France, UK, Mentions of the rest of the world
Pairings: FrancexGermany (main), UKxUSxUK (side), FrancexWorld
Spoilers: None really... Ah, maybe a bit of the Valentine's Day or Christmas Specials. General knowledge of the end of WWII might be helpful.
Warnings: Yaoi goodness, Harem-eque things, fantasies, mentioning of shouta, dubious consent, the misuse of food to be used as aphrodisiacs, sex, sex, sex, (mis)use of foreign languages, switching POV, switching between nation and human names, lack of contractions due to NaNoWriMo
Note: Text that is bolded will be SPEAKING. Because, dammit, there is a lot of useless text that I'm too lazy to take out
Chapter Un
Germany fidgeted, his normally calm and placid silver eyes revealing his worry. “Are you sure I can not stay with you for the interim? Or even stay alone?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice level. There was no reason why he should show just how disturbed he was at the prospect of being with... that person. Honestly, Ludwig was not even sure why he felt this way.
“It will be fine, you damned kraut,” and, for some reason, when England said that now, it sounded more like a nickname one would say in fond exasperation (perhaps, much like England’s own actions towards that ‘calorie-freak’ America, who Germany would privately thank in his mind for getting rid of the Nazis but was not inclined to forgive right now in the open, if only to keep up appearances). “I will be leaving for a little while to visit Alfred,” and, anyone knowing the two blonds on even the basic level knew that anytime Arthur “visited” his younger brother, the end result was either a hot ‘bout of sex (that would undoubtably turn into more Anglo-American ventures into the rest of the world) or another fight where the two would refuse to speak to each other for weeks until one of them (normally England, who seemed to cave in far more easily) apologized. And then they would be at it like rabbits again. If it was not for what was going to happen to him when England left, Germany would have grinned - it sort of reminded him of himself and his little fool Italy. Oh, how he missed him so. “And while I am gone, I will leave you at Francis’ house. It is not the bloody end of the world and you know it.”
“Are you so sure?” Ludwig glared a bit at the shorter nation, who merely shrugged his shoulders in response. Arthur couldn’t really see what Germany had against France and, honestly, Germany didn’t know the answer either. There was just something niggling in the back of his mind that told him that he should NOT be anywhere near the Frenchman if it did not involve some sort of weaponry. Hence, the whole invasion thing - although he would have easily not dealt with him had France not declared war. “Why can’t I stay with the Italian Brothers? Or even Spain or Switzerland or Austria or Luxembourg? Hell, I rather go to Ivan.” The last name was hissed with utter distaste - Germany and Russia did not get along. Ever since the whole “Union of Socialist Soviet Republics,” Germany had been wary of the large blond (one of the few things he and America agreed upon) and his weariness bloomed into out-right hatred when Russia took his brother away, creating that damnable Berlin Wall to keep them separated. Ludwig did not like the Berlin Wall. At all.
Rubbing his temple, England heaved a great sigh. “Stop being so bloody melodramatic. We both know you do not want to be on the Eastern side of the Wall.” Which was true - one of the benefits of being on the west side of the Berlin Wall was Arthur’s pride and joy, the Beatles, and the general autonomy to do whatever the hell he wanted. Within reason, of course. “And those two are currently trying to make up for lost ‘bonding time’ back when the Hapsburgs were in power.” Germany did not remember that time (was he even alive then? God, did that mean Italy might be older than him?) but from the times he heard both Prussia and England (and even Italy, briefly) talk about it, it was not a very pretty time in Europe (except for Herr Roderich - Austria- and his ex-wife Elisabetha - Hungary - who seemed to have really enjoyed it). “It is only for a little while - just stay in whatever room he gives you if you are so worried about being harassed by that damned Frank.”
And, with that, England got up from his seat (it had a name, Germany knew, but he had no want or need to actually know the name of it) and leveled Germany with a certain stare that said ‘You-best-do-what-I-bloody-well-tell-you-or-you-WILL-regret-it.’ Huffing, Germany stalked off to pack his clothes for a month or so.
God, why did he have a bad feeling about this?
End Notes:
Ah, I hope everyone enjoyed this first portion. Any and all grammar/spelling mistakes are my own. This isn't really beta'd and I haven't really read over it much since it was originally written (when I was on a plane sitting next to conservatives). So, it's understandably shoddy. Again, enjoy!
Author's Note: Whoo~ I've had this AFF account for a little while now and decided that I was going to up something meaningful. Thus, this little beaut is going to upped as I write it.
Please note that, in its entirelty, this fic is supposed to be a one-shot. It just... sort of spawned. It's a chapter (supposedly) in the longer (unnamed) Hetalia fanfic that I was working on for NaNoWriMo (and am still working on, dammit). This baby I'm upping helped me go over that 50k - and it's still a WIP...
Sorry Spyke ^_^;
Each "chapter" here corresponds to was a section in the original text. I'll try to up weekly, or as I get more portions written, ha ha ha.
To be on the safe side, I put a LOT of different warnings since I'm new at this. Most warnings are for later chapters.
Title: Voulez-Vous Vous Coucher avec Moi (ce Soir)?
Series: Hetalia: Axis Power
Characters: Germany, France, UK, Mentions of the rest of the world
Pairings: FrancexGermany (main), UKxUSxUK (side), FrancexWorld
Spoilers: None really... Ah, maybe a bit of the Valentine's Day or Christmas Specials. General knowledge of the end of WWII might be helpful.
Warnings: Yaoi goodness, Harem-eque things, fantasies, mentioning of shouta, dubious consent, the misuse of food to be used as aphrodisiacs, sex, sex, sex, (mis)use of foreign languages, switching POV, switching between nation and human names, lack of contractions due to NaNoWriMo
Note: Text that is bolded will be SPEAKING. Because, dammit, there is a lot of useless text that I'm too lazy to take out
Chapter Un
Germany fidgeted, his normally calm and placid silver eyes revealing his worry. “Are you sure I can not stay with you for the interim? Or even stay alone?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice level. There was no reason why he should show just how disturbed he was at the prospect of being with... that person. Honestly, Ludwig was not even sure why he felt this way.
“It will be fine, you damned kraut,” and, for some reason, when England said that now, it sounded more like a nickname one would say in fond exasperation (perhaps, much like England’s own actions towards that ‘calorie-freak’ America, who Germany would privately thank in his mind for getting rid of the Nazis but was not inclined to forgive right now in the open, if only to keep up appearances). “I will be leaving for a little while to visit Alfred,” and, anyone knowing the two blonds on even the basic level knew that anytime Arthur “visited” his younger brother, the end result was either a hot ‘bout of sex (that would undoubtably turn into more Anglo-American ventures into the rest of the world) or another fight where the two would refuse to speak to each other for weeks until one of them (normally England, who seemed to cave in far more easily) apologized. And then they would be at it like rabbits again. If it was not for what was going to happen to him when England left, Germany would have grinned - it sort of reminded him of himself and his little fool Italy. Oh, how he missed him so. “And while I am gone, I will leave you at Francis’ house. It is not the bloody end of the world and you know it.”
“Are you so sure?” Ludwig glared a bit at the shorter nation, who merely shrugged his shoulders in response. Arthur couldn’t really see what Germany had against France and, honestly, Germany didn’t know the answer either. There was just something niggling in the back of his mind that told him that he should NOT be anywhere near the Frenchman if it did not involve some sort of weaponry. Hence, the whole invasion thing - although he would have easily not dealt with him had France not declared war. “Why can’t I stay with the Italian Brothers? Or even Spain or Switzerland or Austria or Luxembourg? Hell, I rather go to Ivan.” The last name was hissed with utter distaste - Germany and Russia did not get along. Ever since the whole “Union of Socialist Soviet Republics,” Germany had been wary of the large blond (one of the few things he and America agreed upon) and his weariness bloomed into out-right hatred when Russia took his brother away, creating that damnable Berlin Wall to keep them separated. Ludwig did not like the Berlin Wall. At all.
Rubbing his temple, England heaved a great sigh. “Stop being so bloody melodramatic. We both know you do not want to be on the Eastern side of the Wall.” Which was true - one of the benefits of being on the west side of the Berlin Wall was Arthur’s pride and joy, the Beatles, and the general autonomy to do whatever the hell he wanted. Within reason, of course. “And those two are currently trying to make up for lost ‘bonding time’ back when the Hapsburgs were in power.” Germany did not remember that time (was he even alive then? God, did that mean Italy might be older than him?) but from the times he heard both Prussia and England (and even Italy, briefly) talk about it, it was not a very pretty time in Europe (except for Herr Roderich - Austria- and his ex-wife Elisabetha - Hungary - who seemed to have really enjoyed it). “It is only for a little while - just stay in whatever room he gives you if you are so worried about being harassed by that damned Frank.”
And, with that, England got up from his seat (it had a name, Germany knew, but he had no want or need to actually know the name of it) and leveled Germany with a certain stare that said ‘You-best-do-what-I-bloody-well-tell-you-or-you-WILL-regret-it.’ Huffing, Germany stalked off to pack his clothes for a month or so.
God, why did he have a bad feeling about this?
End Notes:
Ah, I hope everyone enjoyed this first portion. Any and all grammar/spelling mistakes are my own. This isn't really beta'd and I haven't really read over it much since it was originally written (when I was on a plane sitting next to conservatives). So, it's understandably shoddy. Again, enjoy!