hetalia_kink | Hetalia Kink meme part 14 -- CLOSED

So much yes.

Please more? :D

You're welcome!

And I dunno why writing the Bad Touch Trio didn't occur to me before, but now that you've suggested it... it will happen!

I'm not sure if I've ever read it before either, honestly... but it was fun to write. X3

I am filling this: http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/17337.html?thread=53982137#t53982137 with France/Russia. >:D

Dude, you'd think AMerica's guard would be all over Kisa the moment she tied down America and pulled a knife on him...

I LOOOVE this so far!! As everyone else has said, the characterizations are wonderful! I loved the interaction between Arthur and his older brother, and I can't wait to see where this story goes!!

amazing start, arthuranon! <3

Pfff, this was adorable! The setting up of the meta was absolutely perfect, and I really enjoyed a truly bro talk for onceXD. You have some pretty awesome lines there, and you made Eric sound awesome! ~~I now regret not asking for a bonus where they mention the "Eric for president" meme thing, and the con where he said the line "England is dead sexy in a miniskirt"XD~~

I love the conversation about couples! Especially Eric's reaction to the het shipsXD. And the fact Al spared him the Americest talk...XDDDDDDDDDDDDD

So tell me, how does it feel to literally be the voice of the nation?” Alfred asked, with his fists under his chin.

“It kind of feels like when I was in elementary school and I was Uncle Sam in the school play.”

LOL, THIS WAS BRILLIANT

OMG I get another fill, that's awesome! Thank you so much, I loved this, especially trying to imagine giant Russia protected by a short femaleXD. I love all the little details you included, like England's bodybguard's nameXD, and that she gets along with Germany's. Her backstory looks epic, authoranon, I love me some deep interesting OCs with their own lives and personality. And I laughed hard when she "replied demurely" after tacklin the USA to the tableXD (not to mention that I love to imagine her sistering it up with Belarus. She's probably the only woman Belarus approves 100% around her brother!)

OH HEY SOMEONE SHOWED INTEREST

I don't mind really when it comes to pairings though I'm not a big fan of USUK. Rare!pairs are alright as long as they're well written.

In the series I'm basing this on (Old Harry's Game) the "friendships" that could be translated into pairings are as follows; Professor/Satan (they have a special relationship), Assistant->Satan, Assistant/Evil Man (assistant helps evil guy to become a better person and they sort of become friends). Professor/Evil man could work in AU too.

A/N: Potential filler from before. I apologize if this isn't what you wanted, OP. D: I just had to do it!

----

"Dad! It's not a big deal!" Alfred whined. "It's just one F!"

"'Just one F'?" His father, Arthur echoed angrily. "Your teacher informed me that you haven't turned in any homework in a week!"

"Mr. Braginski's got it in for me!"

"Nonsense! From now on, you shall show all of your homework to me before and after doing it, or you're grounded for a month!"

Alfred pouted. "But Dad-"

"No buts, Alfred!"

The teen huffed and glanced at his mother, who had been tuning out the conversation and reading what was probably a dirty French magazine if Matthew's blush had anything to say about it. "Maman!"

Marianne blinked and looked up from her "reading". "Yes, mon chiot?"

"Tell Dad to get off my back!"

"Not before you tell your son to do his school work!"

The woman looked between her son and husband and sighed. "Listen to your mother, Alfred."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you Marianne, I- WHAT?!" He spluttered indignantly before regaining his composure. "Did you just say 'mother'?!

She smiled cheekily. "Bien sur, mon lapin. You are far more of a mother hen than me~."

"But need I remind you that you are the wife and I am the husband? I certainly didn't give birth to our children!"

"You might as well have, cher, what with your embroidery and your delightful cleaning skills." Her smile was now a smirk. "Besides, you are hardly the man you used to be."

Arthur fumed. "Excuse me? I'm still more of a man than you, woman!"

"Would you like to test that, mon amour?"

"What do you- Ah!"

Before Arthur could finish his sentence, Marianne was on his lap, one hand squeezing his ass while the other slid up his shirt. "M-Marianne!" He moaned, a bright red blush spreading across his cheeks.

"Oui~?" She didn't pause in her work, kissing and nuzzling at his neck.

"A-Ah! N-Not in front of the children!"

His wife looked over her shoulder at Alfred and Matthew, who were watching the scene with twin looks of horror. "Oh! Go do your homework, boys~! Maman and Papa have something to settle~."

The two teens fled from the living room, not needing a second bidding. Running up the stairs and to their room, they tried to sort out what had just happened while ignoring the moans from downstairs.

"So, we just found out our mom is probably more masculine than our dad, and now they're having sex in the living room."

"Yup."

"Where's the bleach?"

"Downstairs in the kitchen."

"Crap."

"...Dad does PMS a lot..."

"Why are you still thinking about this?!"

---

Maman = Mom, Mama
mon chiot = my puppy
Bien sur, mon lapin = Of course, my rabbit
cher = dear

I hope you liked it! :D;;; Comments, anyone?

~~If anyone wants to write what's going on the the living room, be my guest.~~

I'm assuming you're OP, so thank you for requesting such a good prompt! And of course there's more! This won't be too long, but I have a good majority of it planned out.

And thank you to you and the others who have complimented me! Your comments are fuel in the furnace of writing.

*______* Omggg... I just love all their little exploits!! Especially the part with America annoying Cuba and Canada. Side couple anyone?!? Yes? Yes? >=3

I'm actually supppper happy with the things Russia said in this chapter. I think it's making the USA get a little twitterpated. XDD buwhahaha. I wouldn't even care if this didn't up with more than a realization that they make a good pair. This is just so awesomely casual and filled with school hijinks. *_* Lovee

Hey, it's the first anon who offered a fill! Hope you enjoy it.

If the sun were alive, it would be Russia’s friend.
If the sun were alive, he wouldn’t be alone.
If the sun were alive, Russia wouldn’t be cold.
If the sun were alive, tears of sadness wouldn’t run down his face.
If the sun were alive…

“Knock knock”

Russia opened his door to see a single sunflower in a pot,
A ribbon with the other nation’s colors tied around the stem.
It said “I hope to see a day
When the two of us can say
‘I love you’ and be friends.”
Russia smiled, picked up the pot, and cried, but out of happiness this time.

A/N – I am so sorry I took so long to write something this short! I don’t know what happened. Oh, and I left the other nation’s identity a secret so OP and other readers can decide who they want it to be for themselves. Thank you for reading.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The next thing England knew, he was being hauled up and, with a shove form France, he stumbled forward. His feet caught on the carpet and he braced himself for impact with the floor when arms suddenly caught his shoulders. He let out a soft ‘huh?’ as he was lifted up and pulled forward—directly into someone’s lap. Looking up, England found only crimson eyes grinning back at him.

“You’re pretty kinky aren’t you, Arthur? Who knew an old man like you would get turned on by this.” Prussia raked two fingers through England’s left eyebrow, eliciting a sharp gasp. England’s eyes snapped shut and he arched his back, trying to push his head up, forward, anything just to get more.

While Prussia continued the assault on the nation’s brows, England felt himself vaguely being moved around from his haphazard position on the Prussian’s lap. His legs were forced open, and his torso was turned to face Prussia more directly. Blinking his eyes open and fighting the haze of pleasure, England glanced down to see his current predicament.

Legs spread and knees holding him up on the edges of office chair. A hand resting on his lower back and his own hands gripping the chair’s armrests. What disturbed him the most was Prussia’s position.

He was straddling Prussia, and the man seemed to be fully enjoying it. England could feel his now obvious arousal pressed flush up against the other nation’s leg. The realization took a second to work its way through England’s fuzzy mind, but when it hit him his eyes widened and he jerked away from the hand on his back. The movement, however, caused him to jerk forward, falling on to Prussia’s chest. England whimpered and pulled himself up before the albino could react, using his arms and legs to push away from Prussia’s lap. At least he wasn’t straddling the man anymore.

“Oh, you don’t like me? I’m hurt.” Prussia did not replace his hand on England’s back, but moved it up to England’s face to stoke both erogenous zones at the same time. England’s legs began to quake at the ministrations, his mouth falling open in pleasure. Several gasps and moans escaped the man’s lips, and when he moved a hand to cover his mouth his legs gave out. England ended up right where he was before—straddling Prussia and whimpering like a helpless child. An evil smirk seeped on to Prussia’s features and the man’s fingers began to stroke faster, causing England to cry out.

“Ahh! Oh…p-please…please stop…” England’s brows furrowed and relaxed under Prussia’s touch, but his hands remained firmly clenched on the chair’s arms.

“Come on, Gil. You don’t want to make him come so quickly.” A voice said over England’s moans as two hands hooked under the blonde’s arms and yanked him out of Prussia’s lap. England heard footsteps—only three—before he felt himself pressed up against something hard. He opened his eyes—when had they closed?—to find the tanned face of Spain smiling up at him. For some reason, his first thought was that he was shorter than Spain, but he soon realized that he was effectively pinned up against the wall by the other nation. He clenched his legs shut, suddenly aware of how vulnerable he was.

“Don’t worry, Inglaterra, I’ll treat you much nicer than that German.” Spain said, lowering England and placing his mouth close to his ear. A cry of ‘Prussian!’ did not distract him, and he slowly trailed his tongue along the shell of the smaller nation’s ear. England shuddered, his eyes fluttering, and gave a sharp gasp. The Spaniard soon broke his promise, however, as he forced open England’s clenched legs with his own knee. The thigh of the other nation brushed only fleetingly against England’s cock, but it was enough to bring a soft moan out of his mouth. Spain smirked and released England’s arms, which immediately grasped at the wall behind him, but found no purchase.

Ignoring England’s various plights, Spain began stroking both of the blonde’s large eyebrows at once. A rapid pulse of pleasure ran through England’s body, causing him to buck and arch against the wall. When his hips unintentionally thrust forward, however, he halted his movement suddenly.

..Fucking hell.

That was brilliant. Unf. I love England like this. Seriously, thank you for this. ♥ fffff /re-reads forever

“That…that felt really good…” England wasn’t exactly sure he had done, but his body remembered. England’s hips bucked forward once again and Spain chuckled softly, but did not say anything. The blonde’s arms—both flattened against the wall, nothing to hold on to—seemed to move on their own as they grasped Spain’s shoulders. England’s eyes took a hooded look again, and he stared right at Spain as he gave an experimental thrust. The friction—between his member and his own pants and Spain’s leg—made him gasp and pant and somewhere in his mind he was disgusted with himself, but that thought was easily ignored. Soon, England was rutting against Spain’s leg willingly, too intoxicated by the glorious friction to think of anything else while Spain—triumphant expression on his face—continued to rub and stroke his brows, occasionally blowing hot breath onto his forehead just to watch the smaller nation squirm.

“Look at yourself, Arthur.” Came France’s silky voice, “Humping the leg of your once greatest enemy like an animal in heat. This is truly a sight to behold.” The edges of France’s mouth curled up into a mocking smile, and it occurred to England that he should be angry at the Frenchman. Trying to glare at someone was difficult, however, when one’s mouth was parted, panting, and a heated flush was spread generously across one’s face. It didn’t help that he was essentiall being molested by France’s best friend, either. England knew France’s comments were only meant to get him riled up or make him feel self conscious.

And, well, they might have been working.

----

Here you go! Second chapter.

So updates will probably go something like this, with two nations and their 'experience' with England. There are, I think, 6 more nations to have some fun with poor Iggy, and after that the conclusion. Like I said, though, updates will slow because of school.

Enjoy!

*headdesk*

dammit, y so cute

I awww'd IRL despite being in a public place, it was just cute enough

you should write moar

I love you, anon.
My brain can't proccess a better comment for this beautiful fill, sorry.

ffff i love the way this is going, your style, and how you made Ivan a violinist. ♥

as for the first question you asked me, i wouldn't mind it, but it doesn't have to stay that way -

God fucking damn. Lmao. This is fucking brilliant. fffffff

Alfred is one sexy beast, btw, I don't blame ya for fainting, Artie.

My face right now is like XDDDDDD

"Where's the bleach?"

"Downstairs in the kitchen."

"Crap."

I'm surprised it took them this long to be scarred for life. xD

OMG
FAPFAPFAP

UNF.

This is so fucking hot. Seriously, my brain. It's melting. Slutty!helpless!toy!England hits my buttons like no tomorrow.

Anon, I thank you for this. My goodness, I am going to enjoy this.

Nadya turned out to be a short, cheerful woman whose grasp of the English language was tentative at best. She bustled through the entire apartment, sorting the sheets of music into folders, making an enormous pot of tea and doing the dishes, all the while humming snatches of Russian folklore under her breath.
Ivan twitched at the sling around his arm irritably.
“I mustn't move my arm at all, so my last doctor forced me to keep it in a sling. Of course I want it to get better, but it's so irritating.”
Being a general practitioner with a specialisation in orthopedics, Alfred was used to complaints like that. Being immobilized was something no patient took kindly to.
“Must be tough, not being able to do what you like. But you can write with your right hand, so if you get inspired, you can pen it down, right?”
Ivan sighed again, taking a sip from his black tea he had – to Alfred's horror – sweetened with a few spoonfuls of blackcurrant jam.
“If I was able to compose, I could. But inspiration won't come to me.”
Alfred refrained from asking what exactly was on the sheets of music , then. The minds of artists worked in a way quite different from most people, he knew. It was an odd to be treating someone whose career – and, if he'd read the Russian right, his happiness – depended on his recovery.
It was a huge responsibilty, but Alfred wouldn't have had it any other way.
Suddenly the violinist's pale face was lit by a smile again.
“But maybe I will be a little more inspired with you around. You seem a very interesting person, Doctor Jones.”
The odd compliment took Alfred by surprise, but he figured it must have been a cultural difference. He wanted to reply that Ivan could call him by his first name if he liked, as he usually did, but strangely, he didn't mind being called “Doctor Jones” by the Russian. It must have had something to do with most people not taking him seriously because of his optimistic and truthfully rather tactless nature.
“I can say the same for you...can I call you Ivan? I saw you in concert once, and I was really stunned – I'm not so into classical music normally, but you made it sound really alive.” he said. That was true, too. The performance had really blown him away.
From this close, Alfred could see that Ivan's eyes were actually of a bright violet shade, something he'd never seen before. They lit up as Ivan took in the compliment.
“Thank you, I'm very glad you enjoyed my performance. I only hope that I will be able to perform again soon. And may you call me whatever you like.”
Alfred took a sip of his own tea, and immediately regretted having done so. The beverage was bitter as well as sickly sweet, and he supposed it was at least as potent as coffee. Speaking of coffee, he would have to get some. Tea had never really been a favorite of his.
He would have to talk about Ivan's condition and treatment later, but for now he decide to stick to a more pleasant subject.
“Would you mind telling me what you're working on? Maybe it'll help your inspiration if you tell someone about your ideas.”
Alfred wasn't a master of tact, or poise for that matter, but that didn't mean he knew nothing about psychology. Most of the time, he just preferred to be honest instead of considerate. But he knew a fair bit about how people worked.
The Russian's expression grew a bit darker, most likely because he worried that either inspiration or use of his arm wouldn't return. But he was still glad to talk about his newest project with someone who was interested.
“I'm working on composing a few more modern pieces. They are inspired by some old diary entries of mine, from..” here he hesitated a litttle, his voice cracking the faintest bit,”..when I still lived in Moscow.” He selected a sheet from the folder Nadya had put them in. It was covered with sheet music in the same shaky hand Alfred had seen before on the contract.
“This one...it's called Noyabr – November. It's almost finished, but something, something's still missing...”
He hummed a few bars of a soft melancholic melody, something that sounded familiar and alien all at once.

This fill is a thing of beauty.

Awesome ♥

Tony began to realise that it was a little too early to be murmuring ‘exactly as planned’ in triumph, whilst accompanied by ominous Latin chanting. Things were not operating as smoothly as they could, exactly.

(Did his Licence to Break the Fourth Wall cover gratuitous referencing? He hoped so. Wouldn’t do to get that confiscated – not in times like these.)

The trouble was that they were just too damned adaptable. Having lived through the threat of destruction, disintegration, revolution, partition, cold wars, incredibly heated wars – it took a lot to frighten them. Apparently it took even more than the prospect of total obliteration.

Also, it did very little to loosen their tongues, much less shake the foundations of their meticulously structured denial. Only Blind Idiot had managed to choke out the word ‘love’ and, even then, all Short Tempered seemed to be capable of was gazing dumbfounded into his eyes. No, wait, not even his eyes. Too awkward for even that. Short Tempered was staring at the wallpaper.

Truly, Molests Everyone had had the right idea. Direct and to the point. Pity he ended up being the first minor casualty of the day.

Meanwhile, Heroic Host was busy chasing after a pipe dream, like an adorable yet misguided puppy chasing towards a speeding bulldozer.

Oh, and there were Slightly Effeminate and Ridiculously Effeminate! Well, they seemed – great Yrrighnt, did no-one take impending doom seriously any more? – cheerful. What, pray tell, did it take to frighten Ridiculously Effeminate? Was Ridiculously Effeminate even capable of fear? Or had he devised some kind of ingenious exit strategy, involving balloons and ponies? That did not even bear thinking about.

Inadvertent Tomboy and Gun-Toting Neutral had joined Egocentric et al. Mangled Speech and Santa Claus seemed to be in the midst of intent conversation. Huh. Mangled Speech was attempting conversation? Interesting. Well, at least some effort was being made from that corner. Tony was hardly expecting miracles, though – not when both were so clearly (and nonsensically) terrified of each other.

There went Diminutive, off to greet Chronically Repressed. Tony had not even realised that Diminutive was here. He almost pitied Repressed.

Tony glanced at I’m Fine With Being a Cultural Stereotype. She _glared_ at him.

Hetalia Kink meme part 14 -- CLOSED

Re: To Protect the Motherland (notes)

Re: <3<3<3

Lovebites (writernon -- I keep forgetting to put this here lol)

Re: To Protect the Motherland

Re: Ode to the westwind [1c/5]

Op

OP

OP here

Listen To Your Mather, er, Fother

Re: Accidents Happen (1b/?)

OP reviews with hugs

If the Sun Were Alive

Accidents Happen (2a/?)

Re: Where it Counts

Re: Accidents Happen (2a/?)

The above is 2b

Re: float along [1b/1]

Re: Listen To Your Mather, er, Fother

OP here -

Re: Act Natural [3f/?]

Re: Listen To Your Mather, er, Fother

Re: Accidents Happen (2a/?)

Re: Face The Wall (3/?)

Re: Listen To Your Mather, er, Fother

Re: DIY Doomsday (6/?)