Hetalia kink meme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hetalia_kink) wrote2011-02-27 12:31 pm
hetalia_kink) wrote2011-02-27 12:31 pm
Past-Part Fills Part 7
| Past-Part Fills Part Seven |
Fills from past parts can go here!
Fills from the current part MUST go in that part's post until it is full.
Include a link to the original request (and if an ongoing fill, any previous chapters/sections).
The 'Anything Goes' request is here if you need it.
Then, don't forget to link your new fill at the fill index and under the original request.Keep yourself up to date: check out the news.
Comments and Suggestions go here.
Past-Part Fills 1 | Past-Part Fills 2 | Past-Part Fills 3 | Past-Part Fills 4 | Past-Part Fills 5 | Past-Part Fills 6
"Red Shall Thy Petals Be" (11/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-05-20 04:20 am (UTC)(link)They help him onto the bed. He'd climb up himself, but his limbs feel numb and useless, answering him sluggishly. It's not even midnight yet; he shouldn't be this tired.
Is it? There's no clock in here.
He tries to work it out, while his brothers speak above him in voices too low to hear over the pounding blood in his head. It had been almost ten when he'd come over, and then - call it half an hour for each time, which is probably an exaggeration, and he's still barely up to eleven o'clock. That leaves nine hours. He doesn't know how he's going to get through them. They havn't even hurt him since they had a go at dislocating his shoulders before dinner.
And apparently they're going to fix that, because someoone slaps him hard, across the back of the thighs, jarring the worst of his bruises. Yes, yes, that's good, that helps. England gasps in pain; he's sure they'll want to hear that. He keeps it up as they wake him up with more blows - nothing too enthuiastic, all with bare hands, which makes sense. Given how disturbed Scotland had acted to find the crop. Although really, they're neither of them innocent; they've had a lot more sex over the centuries than he has. Given the things Scotland said about gags after the first time the three of them tumbled into bed, he knows not every bit of it was vanilla.
He lets them rearrange him, limp as a doll, until he's lying with his head on Wales's knee and his legs splayed across the bed. Wales ruffles his hair, and then grabs his hand. "Now," he says, voice eerily cheerful, "don't make any noise. Deep breaths."
Why should they tell him that now, England wonders, but the thought is cut off by the sudden prodding of cold, slick fingers. By now there's no resistance left in him, and he takes deep breaths and doesn't make any noise as he's spread open again, stretched so wide he wonders if his brother is going to try to fist him. He hopes not; that would hurt, and fond as he is of pain there are limits.
Not that he can say no right now. The thought leaves him trembling, and that disturbs him. Masochism is one thing, and if he trusts his brothers, or wants to indulge them, no harm in it, but he shouldn't want to be so vulnerable.
He decides to ignore that it must have been precisely what he wanted last night.
The thing that works inside him next isn't a fist. Isn't anything he recognises, either; they could have taken a dildo from his toybox easily enough, but he doesn't own any this big. The shape is all wrong, too. It hurts, and he goes still, not quite able to obey deep breaths and be silent at once. Wales squeezes his fingers until his breathing starts to settle down.
"Good," he whispers, as if England had any choice about keeping quiet. Scotland seems to concur, juddging from the comforting pat on the arse. He isn't sure whether to glare at them or look pleading. He'll decide when he stops aching quite so much.
England isn't exactly sure how he gets there, but when things come clear again he's nuzzling at Wales's thigh, a breath away from nuzzling at his cock. It's not a familiar position. It's comfortable enough, though. "Don't you dare bite," his broter whispers, and then, "Oh. Oooooooh."
"See, I said he was good at it," Scotland rumbles. "Ye let me, I dinna see -"
"I trust you," Wales snaps, and then trails back into the little tuneful gasps. England feels vaugely smug as he licks at the side of his brother's cock. He arches his back, trying to get closer, and the motion makes the whatever-it-is shift inside him. His fingers clench, and he shudders with pain.
They don't let him stop.
They don't let him stop until his throat is sore again from his brother thrusting into it, hands tight in the sheets, and his legs are going stiff from holding still at the one angle that doesn't make his arse hurt worse. Wales still hasn't come, when he shoves England away.
England doesn't know what to think of that. He can't really think now, anyway.
--
Re: "Red Shall Thy Petals Be" (11/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-05-20 05:54 am (UTC)(link)Masochism is one thing, and if he trusts his brothers, or wants to indulge them, no harm in it, but he shouldn't want to be so vulnerable. - no words, so much yes for this
Also England with his head in Wales' lap and Wales holding his hand and the surprise blowjob just how much better could this fic possibly get.
(given that we know what will follow now, probably yes)
Re: "Red Shall Thy Petals Be" (11/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-05-20 08:31 am (UTC)(link)Re: "Red Shall Thy Petals Be" (11/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-05-20 08:52 am (UTC)(link)Here anon, Scotland/Wales/England threesome: http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/20749.html?thread=82834957#t82834957
Re: "Red Shall Thy Petals Be" (11/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-05-20 09:55 am (UTC)(link)Re: "Red Shall Thy Petals Be" (11/?)
(Anonymous) 2012-05-21 10:00 pm (UTC)(link)"See, I said he was good at it," Scotland rumbles. "Ye let me, I dinna see -"
"I trust you," Wales snaps, and then trails back into the little tuneful gasps.
I'm amazed at how erotic this passage is even though the only action revealed is in Wales' reaction.