One-Shot: Spring Cleaning

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Ludwig x Reader

PG-13 for 'heated' situation(s)

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The mansion was quiet, save for the methodical sound of the broom coming from the kitchen. It appears it's just Ludwig and I today, the rest of the men leaving for various reasons. I stopped working, tablecloth runner bunched in my hands.

Ludwig was still hard at work in the kitchen, just out of sight.

He really is a hard worker.

The past few weeks he's even been helping me with the chores, though I'm unsure whether that's from kindness or if I'm merely not up to his standards. It's been nice, though, to have someone around to share the load with.

Ludwig: Have you finished?

I jumped, startled by his sudden appearance.

Reader: Yes, the dining room is done.

He eyed me for a moment, gaze unreadable. Why is it always so difficult to know what the man is thinking? After all this time, I still have no clue.

He let out a brisk sigh, leaning the broom against the wall before heading towards me.

Reader: Is-is something the matter?

I don't think I've messed up this time...and I've gotten better at cleaning too. He stopped right in front of me, reminding me of his tall stature. I craned my neck to look at him, confusion on my face.

Ludwig: No matter how many times I instruct you, you never fail to forget the most important part of cleaning.

The most important part?

As I pondered over what I had forgotten, a light sensation crawled over my arm. I jerked back, bumping against the table. He stood before me with a slightly amused expression before revealing the feather duster in his hand.

Reader: Oh...right.

I went to take the duster from his hand but he moved it slightly out of reach, fluidly stepping closer, trapping me against the dinner table.

Reader: Ludwig?

He was so close that his body was almost pressed against mine, something unusual in his hard eyes; they seemed to be softer, more playful than the sternness they usually bore.

I jumped as the feather duster once again met my skin, his hand trailing it down my arm.

Reader: What are you-

He cut me off by delicately trailing it down my neck, tracing the curvature of my collarbone.

Reader: Stop, it tickles.

This is far too strange! What sort of thought does he have running through his head? Is he sick? I gathered the confidence to peek up at him, surprised to see his cheeks dusted a light pink.

Ludwig: With this, will you remember how important it is to dust?

He finally spoke, leaning in closer towards my ear.

Ludwig: How important it is to get in every nook and cranny, not leaving a single speck behind?

He asked, trailing the feathers down my neck slowly yet purposefully.

Reader: I-I promise I won't forget, so can you stop?

I timidly questioned.

Ludwig: Have you forgotten your manners as well?

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