Hetalia kink meme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hetalia_kink) wrote2014-02-10 06:09 pm
hetalia_kink) wrote2014-02-10 06:09 pm
Hetalia kink meme part 27
axis powers
hetalia kink meme
part 27
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| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 |
| Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 |
| Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 |
Denmark/Norway- Rough sex and choking
(Anonymous) 2014-12-19 12:18 am (UTC)(link)Bonus 1: Denmark getting Norway to beg for release.
Bonus 2: Someone has a biting kink.
Bonus 3: Norway is very, very vocal.
Re: Denmark/Norway- Rough sex and choking
(Anonymous) 2014-12-19 12:36 am (UTC)(link)Re: Denmark/Norway- Rough sex and choking
(Anonymous) 2014-12-20 10:03 am (UTC)(link)Re: Denmark/Norway- Rough sex and choking
(Anonymous) 2014-12-22 01:31 am (UTC)(link)Re: Denmark/Norway- Rough sex and choking
(Anonymous) 2014-12-25 12:25 am (UTC)(link)Re: Denmark/Norway- Rough sex and choking
(Anonymous) 2014-12-26 12:30 am (UTC)(link)OP
(Anonymous) 2014-12-26 04:52 pm (UTC)(link)That Is How A Viking Do [1/3]
(Anonymous) 2015-01-03 11:52 pm (UTC)(link)Denmark was perched on the sofa, doing nothing in particular, when Norway sidled into the room and gave him that look, the one that meant things had better get interesting very quickly or Denmark would live to regret it. And then he held up a mug, plain white ceramic and nothing either of them especially cared for, and he very deliberately opened his hands and let it fall to the floor, where it shattered into several large pieces and a number of sharp, smaller shards.
“The word,” he said, face expressionless and words precise, “is still mermaid.”
Denmark knew exactly what was expected of him then, and because both he and Norway were always, always ready for this sort of thing (no matter how much the latter might deny it, Denmark’s hands were skilled and Norway’s oh-so-perfect control crumbled fast in the bedroom) he stood from the couch and stepped gracefully over the broken mug, face darkening slightly and ordinary cheerful grin changing to a predatory smirk that brought back memories of his days as a conquering nation.
“Clean that up,” he said, and his voice was deceptively light and cheerful. Like Russia, though, this was the tone that signaled a dangerous mood.
“Why should I? It’s your house. It’s your mug. Do it yourself.” Norway had stepped back so his back was flat against the wall, and Denmark understood what was wanted.
Their bodies pressed hard together, and Denmark’s hand slid between Norway and the wall, just below the crease where his thighs joined his ass, and lifted so the shorter country’s toes were barely touching the ground. His legs kicked slightly, and Denmark knew the other couldn’t quite get a secure hold on the floor. That was good. A little uncertainty, a little bit of fear…
“Do it,” he repeated into Norway’s ear, then dragged the very tip of his tongue down his partner’s neck to the point where it joined his shoulder. He could feel Norway catch his breath, knowing what was coming, and Denmark grinned against his pale, perfect skin before he bit down hard and Norway arched his back ever-so-slightly but did not make a sound. Surprising, and pleasing. It had always been a weak spot of Norway’s, right there, and the fact that he was holding back from a vocal reaction now meant that tonight would be… Exciting. To say the very, very least.
“Why should I?” Norway breathed. “Your floors are covered in Legos all the time anyway. This is just more of the same. Anyway, I thought it was Germany’s job to be all neurotic about cleaning, not yours. Did some of his OCD come through your precious tunnel?”
Denmark, who hated having his tunnels and bridges to Germany made fun of, bit down again, harder, and Norway breathed out hard, obviously close to losing his control, and his erection twitched against Denmark’s thigh.
He stepped back, watched Norway’s blown-wide pupils flick this way and that, watched his hands creep down to the crotch of his pants, and then he slammed Norway’s wrists back against the wall. His partner gave a whine of frustration, and Denmark laughed a little more cruelly than he would ever have done outside of this.
“You,” he said, very matter-of-factly, “look amazing.”
“I know,” Norway answered, and then he had managed to break free from Denmark’ hold and they were both on the ground-- Norway on top of Denmark. It would not be so for long, of course, because even with Norway’s determination his body was far slimmer and less powerful than Denmark’s.
He was allowed a moment of victory, though, before Denmark twisted hard and Norway was trapped, seeming to honestly be writhing in panic and slight arousal, beneath him.
“You’re trying to get away?” he asked, and it sounded almost wounded. Norway almost never tried to escape. He stood there, made the odd snarky remark, and resisted. That was his job, just as it was Denmark’s to force his partner to his knees and bend him to his will. It was good, therapeutic, for the both of them.
“No,” Norway panted, “not really. Though now you mention it… it might be a good idea. Surprising, coming from you of all people.” He didn’t mean the insult, and Denmark could tell-- Norway’s voice was warm and he could hear the smile in it. And then, impossibly, Norway had dragged himself out from under his captor and taken off down the hall at a dead sprint. Denmark followed at a much more leisurely pace. There was, after all, nowhere for his prey to go.
Norway’s fingers were yanking at the hem of his shirt as he fled, trying to pull it off, but his hands felt numb and shaky with excitement and apprehension. But when he did manage to shed it, Norway twisted and threw it back at Denmark, who did not quite manage to catch it before it had hit him in the face and he was skidding in the red slipper-socks Norway had bought him for Christmas on the hardwood floor.
Norway laughed breathlessly, then ducked into their bedroom and waited, pressed against the wall next to the door. The other would arrive soon, he knew. And Norway would be ready
Denmark’s slipper-socks and Norway’s shirt both lay discarded next to the small decorative side table he had hit, and Denmark shook his head to clear it, made a note to call Sweden (it was a good table, but there were only so many collisions it could take), then marched decisively off towards their room. Norway had, obviously, gone there. Where else?
Re: OP
(Anonymous) 2015-01-04 03:06 am (UTC)(link)Re: That Is How A Viking Do [1/3]
Re: That Is How A Viking Do [1/3]
(Anonymous) 2015-01-04 07:27 pm (UTC)(link)That Is How A Viking Do [2/3]
(Anonymous) 2015-02-10 03:53 am (UTC)(link)The door opened slowly, and Norway was easily ready for Denmark to enter. He allowed himself one small half-smile, slid to the side just instants before the door crashed open, slamming against the wall where he had just been waiting. And then he stopped for a moment to stare, because the doorknob had slammed right through the plaster, where it was now embedded in the wall. It really was, Norway thought, amused and a little bit more excited, a good thing he had gotten out of the way in time. Maybe you can’t really kill someone like him, but a doorknob to the stomach with that kind of force would definitely have killed the mood.
Instead of dwelling on the sheer brute strength Denmark must have used, Norway was forced to jump to the side-- Denmark had reached for him, no doubt planning to throw him over the bed or the chair or something like that. He was looking forward to that, of course, just not yet. He liked to do things in his own time, when he was ready.
Denmark’s hand caught at the edge of Norway’s bare waist, sharp, slightly bitten fingernails scraping angry red marks into his skin, and Norway stumbled and fell forward onto the floor. Denmark approached, smiling down at him-- this, he thought, surely by now Norway had had enough of waiting for the good bits.
Norway waited, and when Denmark came close enough he sat up fast and grabbed at the back of his knees, forcing him to fall down face-first onto the bed, shins whacking on Norway’s shoulders, and Norway ignored the pain and scrambled away. The door was wide open, he could easily have darted back into the hall… But he did not. That was cheating, and anyway he’d had enough waiting for this already. Denmark wanted him, and he wasn’t about to deny his partner— or the doubtless-coming punishment— any longer.
Denmark picked himself up from the bed, rubbing his knees as though he could not quite decide whether or not to be actually hurt, and then there was a flash of dominance and fury in his eyes. Everyone said Sweden was the lion of the north, but nobody had that same aura of controlled power that Denmark had. It wasn’t for nothing that he had been one of the most influential conquering nations, once, and his cheerful-to-the-point-of-foolhardy exterior hid a dangerous, dominant side.
Norway leaned against the wall, just waiting as Denmark approached and pinned him back, one hand on each of his upper arms, pressing him against the wall hard to the point of being uncomfortable. One knee crept up between Norway’s legs again, and he writhed against it, falling easily into the way Denmark no doubt knew he would act.
“So here we are again,” Denmark mused, smiling a little cruelly. “You, against the wall, and me holding you there. And the same thing’s about to happen, and really the only difference is that you’re in still more trouble now, aren’t you, princess? Running away— tsk.” He shook his head in a mocking way that usually only Norway could use without looking stupid. “Bad decision. You should’ve just stayed and cleaned up the mug in the first place… could’ve avoided all this.”
Norway made as though to struggle, because now the tight knot in his stomach had dissolved into a million little fluttering creatures, like butterflies but heavier, and he wasn’t sure if this was real fear or apprehension. Probably only the later, because he could feel his cock stiffening against Denmark’s thigh.
Denmark could feel it too (of course) and he smiled, pressing a hand into Norway’s thigh, tantalizingly close to where Norway wanted him, and Norway moaned, encouraging him. “And what, exactly, do you plan to do to punish me?” he asked, somehow managing to sound bored.
“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” Denmark answered, and he didn’t have to fake a displeased furrow of his eyebrows: Norway was quiet, too quiet, when usually he was sobbing for breath by now. “What d’you think you deserve?”
“A blowjob,” Norway answered, without missing a beat. “I promise to act like it hurts if you do…”
Denmark laughed, sharp and hard and unlike his usual laughter, and he shook his head, not that Norway had expected anything different. “Not a chance. Nice try, though.” He shifted, so his arm pressed back across the width of Norway’s chest, and grabbed a handful of the other country’s ass. “But because I’m nice, I’ll give you a choice. Wait there.” He stepped back, freeing Norway, and Norway didn’t move at all. It wasn’t like he was going to get away, after all… And he wanted this now, wanted this so badly that it almost hurt.
Denmark stooped, reaching under the bed, never taking his eyes off Norway, and when he stood once more he was holding a pair of silver rings, ones that weren’t designed to go on fingers but instead to keep Norway pent up, unable to release. “It’s this… or it’s a spanking, nothing big. Just an ordinary punishment. And then the fun bit starts.”
Norway’s eyes flicked from the rings to Denmark’s face over and over, and he thought hard. Either promised to be interesting, either was good, but he knew exactly what he wanted already. It wasn’t even really a question. “Both,” he breathed, though the person he was being now would never have decided on that, and stumbled forward to fall onto the bed.
Denmark watched the other incredulously, and a slow smile crept over his face. It was beyond him how Norway could, so undeniably, be the submissive part… But with just one word, he had Denmark ready to throw aside all thought of retribution, just wanting to fuck him through the mattress now, to hear the way he moaned and cried and begged. It’d been maybe two weeks since they’d last done it like this, and that still felt impossibly long. He leaned forward and neatly fitted the ring over Norway’s balls, another around his shaft, and then he stroked a hand up Norway’s length and watched the other nation shudder, trying to hold his noises back.
“You’ve still got the other half to go,” he reminded, although really the punishment of what he’d just done had not even begun. The real torture of this… It would come later. “I think, because you’re being so good for me now… maybe just ten hits. Only ten, and then we can get on to... other things.”
There was nothing holding Norway immobile, nothing to keep him in his position on elbows and knees, ass in the air for Denmark. Nothing but Denmark’s voice, Denmark’s commands, and his presence, and somehow that was stronger than any rope could be. So he shut his eyes and nodded, already bracing himself for the pain that was sure to follow: Denmark was one of the physically fittest nations there was, and he never held back when he felt Norway deserved this.
“Are you going to do it?” he asked eventually, glancing over his shoulder, breaking his pose if only for a moment, and Denmark’s fingertips dragged lightly up the muscular curve of his ass.
“Maybe. Maybe now, maybe in a few minutes… when I’m good and ready.” Denmark, usually so impatient, had the sort of smile on his face that said he could not be hurried in this.
“No,” Norway answered, shaking his head and rocking back onto his knees a little, so he pressed farther into Denmark’s hand. “Now.”
Denmark obliged, though usually he liked to drag this out as long as he could, and raised his hand then let it fall, as hard as he could and pulling back fast so the blow stung, and he grinned as Norway jerked beneath him, letting a whine escape between clenched teeth. This was more progress towards the noise he knew was being held back… But it wasn’t enough, not till the smaller nation was utterly destroyed beneath him.
Denmark leaned forward to where Norway’s shoulders were trembling with the effort of holding still, of letting himself be degraded, and he bit down hard on the soft part right behind his collarbone, not that hard but enough Norway would feel. He was rewarded by a tensing of the muscle under Norway’s soft skin, and he smiled, then sat back fast, slapping Norway once more, right where he’d hit before, and that caught Norway by surprise.
Norway’s eyes shot open wide, and he screamed, screamed as he only did when Denmark was doing something right, and Denmark’s smile changed to something a little bit more smug. “That’s only three,” he murmured, but now his cock was aching and he just wanted to be inside Norway already, so the next five slaps came in quick succession, leaving red handprints on Norway’s ass.
“Dammit— you’re hurting—” Norway’s thumbs were in his mouth, and Denmark knew without looking any closer that he was biting down on them. He reached forward, caught Norway by the back of his head, and pulled back, forcing the other country’s mouth away from the fingers he was using to (more or less effectively) gag himself. The noises came faster, then, little needy whimpers and whines, some tinged with pain. Denmark ground forward, rubbing his erection over Norway’s ass, and he smirked.
“I should hope so. That was, after all, the idea of this punishment.” He knew that Norway was half-regretting asking for both by now: if he wasn’t wearing the silver rings, he would have come over his belly and the sheets by the third slap. It was so easy to make Norway come, which was a source of both amusement and pride to Denmark, and mostly chagrin to Norway. “So how many’s that, now?”
“Eight,” Norway said, voice betraying none of the pain and arousal he had to be feeling, and the part of Denmark he was letting control this, the one that had ruled during the Kalmar Union, the fiercely dominant Viking parts of him, wanted to forget this once more, just slam forward and then, then Norway would be crying, begging but in a good way…
The ninth hit came fast but light, and then the tenth, harder than those before, and he saw real tears in Norway’s eyes. Denmark stopped for a moment, wondering if he was okay (sometimes they took a break during things like this, not often but sometimes, where Norway would need to be petted and comforted and made much of), but then Norway had rolled over and climbed onto Denmark’s lap, straddling his knees and holding his ass just a little ways up. Denmark, simply because he could, reached back and pinched it, then watched Norway jump.
so there you have it. sorry for the looooong wait, and sorry for all the fail… i’ve been really busy lately. also surgery went wrong so yeah, there’s my lame excuses.
Re: That Is How A Viking Do [2/3]
(Anonymous) 2015-02-10 07:58 am (UTC)(link)author anon
(Anonymous) 2015-02-11 02:17 am (UTC)(link)Re: That Is How A Viking Do [2/3]-OP
(Anonymous) 2015-02-12 02:40 pm (UTC)(link)Re: That Is How A Viking Do [2/3]-OP
(Anonymous) 2015-02-14 09:17 pm (UTC)(link)Re: That Is How A Viking Do [2/3]
(Anonymous) 2015-02-13 08:11 pm (UTC)(link)Re: That Is How A Viking Do [2/3]
(Anonymous) 2015-09-12 10:54 am (UTC)(link)i hope author-sama writes some more - there's still a part left <333