hetalia_kink | Hetalia kink meme part 27

Hetalia kink meme part 27

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A kink I never see; someone inappropriately enjoys setting things on fire. Big things, that should ideally not be set on fire.

Possible filler here! Just clarifying, did you mean pyromania in your subject? That's what your description seems to be describing as you didn't mention anything on a sexual nature which is what makes pyrophilia different than pyromania! Thank you :3

Unless that's what you mean by 'inappropriately'and I'm just really naive ><

No, that is what I meant by inappropriate ;)

So, I haven't written fanfiction, let alone anything Hetalia, in a few years, tbh.
This is probably going to be awful, not only in content, but style. Howeeeeever, I have a soft spot for writing weird obsessions.
I hope you're not too disappointed ... ):

-----------------------------------------------------

The first time came as an unexpected, but not wholly unwanted, surprise. As per the usual Friday night ritual, Latvia had swallowed down half his meager body weight in Smirnoff's before the short hand on the grandfather clock even brushed the seven, drowning all of his pent-up adolescent problems in the pungent smell of booze. He was already crossing the threshold into sloppy when Lithuania plopped a swatch of matches in his lap and requested he light one of those overpriced, bakery-scented candles to scare away the scent of Latvia going through a particularly unsavory patch of puberty. In hindsight, there was no way that Lithuania could have understood just how much fuel he was adding to the fire, so to speak.

It was when Raivis' bony fingers, shaking more than usual when under the influence of bad life decisions, dropped a lit match that the pieces fell into place. It managed to narrowly miss the table and, instead, fall right onto the feet of Russia's garish curtains, eating up the embroidery like a starving hyena. Suddenly Latvia's whole world was thrown into the most incredible chaos he could have imagined, his head buzzing with the sound of firing synapses and filling up with a fluid that made his brain feel like lead weighing down his skull in the most incredible way. The flames slipped their way up the length of the fabric and left lanky streaks of crisp ash that crumbled beneath their own weight, speckling the floorboards and slipping between the cracks. The heat licked the young man's skin, sending shivers down his spine, drops of tangy sweat down his cheeks and making his legs feel like the bones had slipped out. The better half of 600 pages laden with romantic poetry exploded in his head, and he knew what love was supposed to be, and he knew even better that this was so much sweeter.

It was the start of his own personal revolution.

It escalated from there. Latvia would sneak coats and furniture from the home out through the doors and meet his lover in the fields behind the house, watching it eat up wood and linen until his hands were sticky with his own cum, and, Jesus, he knew each and every time that next time he'd want more.

And now he's crouched down in the field at three A.M., shivering with not fear, but excitement for once, trembling hands dropping matches into the dirt until they fizzle out and send the intoxicating scent of burnt wood into his nose where it swallows Latvia's brain and makes the entire world look like a gift from God.
Christ, it's pathetic, he hasn't even managed to start and already his cock is straining against his pants, throbbing each time he hears that shhhhhrp the sandpaper makes. Inside his head he's going deaf from the pounding of blood and the voices of his friends and brothers, "He's such a gentle boy, that Raivis," and "Raivis, you don't need to be so meek."

Finally, Latvia manages to steady himself long enough to guide the flickering match to the wick and stand back, leisurely sliding his belt out from the buckle as time slows down to a crawl. He doesn't want to touch himself, not yet, because he already knows he's so damn close and the fire hasn't even reached the fraying corner of the barn yet, but, oh, the head of his cock is a desperate purple color that's shimmering with pre-cum and begging to be loved. He'd pat himself on the back for such an astounding display of self-control, if he was anywhere near cognizant enough to comprehend his own existence outside of the flames about to devour one of Russia's barns.

The heat teases the white siding, and sashays along the edges until everything, absolutely everything, is enveloped, and the universe has never been so raw. Latvia's hand twists around the head of his dick, and his hips thrust forward, fucking his fist so hard that his knees wobble and he falls to the ground, panting, salty tears rolling over his burning cheeks and evaporating from the heat just a few feet before his nose.
Moans find their way through his teeth, sneaking out and mingling with the thick clouds of black smoke that make their way into the stars. Latvia's eyes roll back into his head, intoxicated by the sensations of his palms and the heat and the smell of wood and everything that makes life worth living.

With a hoarse grunt, he finishes in the dirt in front of him, and falls back into the grass, the perfect image of satisfied dishevelment as he watches his lover gorge itself on the planet.

Hi Author!anon, I've posted this on the fills list - in the future please add a link to your fills there so that all interested readers can find them! If you would like to advertise this fill differently from how I have done, go ahead and I'll delete my comment from the fills list.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hetalia kink meme part 27

Any, pyrophilia.

Re: Any, pyrophilia.

Re: Any, pyrophilia.

OP

Personal Revolution [1/1]

Re: Personal Revolution [1/1]