During his time with Russia, Liet was unwillingly conditioned into having a serious kink for bondage. Poland finds out about it- and shows him that it's not a bad thing, if it's with someone you trust.
Bonus: Poland really takes his time about it and/or is a bit of a tease. ---
He could feel the blood rushing to his head, and he turned his face away. With any luck Poland would ignore it - that would be the best thing, he was sure. Ignore it, and maybe Lithuania could go down on him and not ask for reciprocation and they'd let the whole thing slide. Yes. Unfortunately, Poland was a lot sharper than most people thought.
"Liet? You okay?" Poland blinked a few times, then pushed himself up on his elbows. Without even the weight on his chest holding him down, he had lost his arousal completely, and Lithuania only blushed deeper as Poland sat up and narrowed his eyes. "Liet, if you don't wanna do this, that's fine, I know it's - well -"
"I do!" He tried to fill his voice with conviction. "Poland, I want to do this, I want to be with you." He didn't need to fill in You're so much better than Russia. They knew it, and saying it would only raise questions. Two hundred years worth of questions, and now was not the time.
"But as soon as I let go of your wrists you start trying to get away." Poland rocked their hips together, as if for emphasis. Then his face went pale. "I shouldn't have grabbed your wrists, should I, oh crap, I'm sorry -"
"No! It's not that. I don't mind. I trust you." Lithuania forced himself to smile. The next words came out in a rush, only half on purpose: "Please do it again."
Poland frowned, but he obliged - he leaned forward and grabbed Lithuania's wrists, pinning them to the pillow on each side of his head. "This doesn't, like, make you want to run away? You're breathing ha - oh. Ooooh." The motion of his hips this time was entirely deliberate, and Lithuania arched up to meet it. "Liet," Poland mumbled incredulously. "You like this?"
It was no good trying to hide, was it? Not from Poland. "I don't like it," he began, "but - but I've gotten used to it. Really used to it."
"So, what, you can't get off unless I'm holding you down?"
He swallowed. "Probably not. Not after - I haven't, uh. Been able to. Not since . . ."
The stormy expession on Poland's face made him shiver, but then Poland muttered, "That bastard. It's Russia, isn't it," he added in a rush. "He made you get used to it." Lithuania nodded, feeling himself tremble. "That utter and complete asshole, I'll kick his ass six ways to next Wednesday, I'm gonna hang him up by his fucking toenails and - "
"Poland!" He gasped, and Poland stopped in mid-tirade. His hands had been tightening, and that was - was it bad that it felt so good? "Poland, please, I don't want - I don't want to think about Russia right now."
It took a few careful breaths before Poland's stormy expression faded. "Okay. No talking about Russia. Later. I can totally do that. Right." Another deep breath, and then a smile blossomed across his face. In the twilight it looked real, and if his eyes were shadowed, well, it was that much easier to fill them in with a sunny expression in his mind. "Okay, Liet. Still want sex? Or you just, like, want to cuddle? Or do you want me to go away?"
Re: if it's you, it's okay (part 2)
anonymous
February 25 2010, 09:00:14 UTC
If he'd let Lithuania's wrists go, Lithuania would have lost his nerve. But he could still feel that, and he was still aroused, and he must be blushing so hard right now, but - "Don't go," he said, and Poland's fingers tightened. "Please don't go. I still want to do this with you."
"Right." Poland hissed out a long sigh, and he squirmed down until he was close enough to start licking at Lithuania's neck again, which - oooh. Oh, that was almost nice enough to make him forget where they were, what was happening. Poland's breath was warm on his ear, and the weight on his chest and reassuing - Poland was a lot lighter than - than Lithuania was used to. It felt good. He squirmed a little, feeling their jeans rub together - how had they gotten this far and not gotten rid of those? - and the firm reassurance of Poland's hand on his wrists. The licking eased into a long kiss. When it finally broke Poland smiled at him. "Okay," he breathed. "You need this. Not so bad. We can deal."
Yes, he wanted to say, but the words got lost halfway and emerged from his lips as an inarticulate whimper
Poland grinned and let go with one hand while he undid his belt with the other. "I'll make it feel good. I swear."
"Thank you." Lithuania tried to stop blushing, but it wasn't going very well. At least the blood wasn't showing any signs of leaving, um, other areas, either. He lay patiently as Poland wrapped the belt around his wrists, looped it through the headboard and buckled it. It didn't dig in, didn't feel like it was about to slip off his wrists, and it shouldn't have been as comfortable as it was, to lie back and let someone else control him, own him - he'd put up with it long enough - but this way he could tell himself It's not your fault. You couldn't have gotten away. Deep breaths.
"This okay? What do you want me to do, Liet?"
"Just keep touching me." Don't ask me, he thought, which was ridiculous. He wanted this, he did, and there was a treacherous voice pointing out how Poland had always been in charge, always conrolled him, always done whatever he wanted and ridden roughshod over Lithuania's desires. He told it bitterly to shut up. He'd never thought things were perfect between them. Poland had gotten what he wanted, always, and run all over Lithuanian culture and not even learned his language, and - and it had still been rich and warm and wonderful and so much better than the Soviet Union. Poland had said Lithuania was his partner, and then treated him like an extension of himself. Poland gave him religion and architecture and literary culture. Russia had said Lithuania was part of him, and then treated him like a serf. He closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths.
At about this point in the process, Russia had generally gotten sick of his whimpering and gagged him. At about this point in the process he'd generally been grateful for that, since it spared him Russia's kisses and let him keep a bit of dignity.
Poland just kissed his closed eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "I've got an idea," he breathed. "Just wait a sec, okay? I'm not going to leave the room." Lithuania nodded, and tried not to feel nervous at the way the bed creaked as Poland climbed off him. Deep breaths. If he had to he could probably get loose, the belt wasn't that tight, he could unbuckle it. And besides, he had no choice, he was helpless, completely at Poland's mercy, so he might as well lie back and enjoy it. He carefully ignored the way these two ideas contadicted each other.
Lithuania opened his eyes for a second as Poland clambered back onto the bed. He was holding a silk scarf and beaming. "Close your eyes, Liet," he whispered. Lithuania complied, and repressed a shiver as the scarf was wrapped around his head. "You okay?"
"Yes."
"Good." Fingers running through his hair again, and warm breath on his neck. "You're so beautiful," came the whisper in his ear. "So gorgeous, I could just spend hours watching you brath, you know? Can I -" One hand hd already started on his jeans.
Re: if it's you, it's okay (part 3)
anonymous
February 25 2010, 09:00:50 UTC
"Yes, please,," he moaned. The blindfold was probably a good idea - he didn't have the concentration to look at anything right now, and he didn't really want to see Poland's face in case the smile cracked. He tugged a bit on the belt and arched his hips to help as Poland slid his jeans out of the way - he didn't slide them off quite yet; they tangled around his knees as Poland knelt on his thighs and wrapped a hand around his cock. He whimpered, and arched up again into the touch. He felt warm. Poland kept murmuring, undoing a few buttons of Lithuania's shirt and running his fingers over the skin revealed by it, dotting kisses all over his face, teling him how sweet he was, how pretty, how nice a voice he had, and he held onto that and let himself lie still and not struggle, and his mind drifted away, awash on the warm haze of whispers and touches.
It was okay. Poland, he trusted. He told himself that very hard.
It was easy enough to forget, to let the vulnerability undo his inhibitions and the comforting touch draw out the sorts of noises Russia would probably have liked. Russia was never so slow, so gentle and careful. Russia liked to get it over with, and he had sucked so hard and fast it never took long, no matter how hard Lithuania tried not to think of anything, not to let himself respond. Poland took his time. He traced elaborate patterns over Lithuania's skin, stroked him and kissed him and whispered that it was fine, he was safe, nothing bad was going to happen. And as long as he didn't have to see anything, Lithuania could believe that, could tell himself that lying here with his hands tied over his head and Poland pinning his legs down wasn't a vulnerability or a weakness or something he had to defend against. That Poland would look after him.
Like he always had, and that was the difference, wasn't it?
When he came, it was a suprise, a sudden overflowing after a buildup so gradual he had scarcely noticed it, floating on a cushion of comforting words as he was. Russia had always dragged it out of him, almost fast enough to be painful. He lay there for a long while with Poland collapsed against his side, feeling for once no particular urgency to get his hands free or clean up or cover himself, until the sweat had cooled on their skin and his arms were starting to cramp.
Re: if it's you, it's okay (part 3)
anonymous
February 25 2010, 23:41:47 UTC
Anon, this story is so wonderful and beautiful and just them. I mean, the line about Poland being sharper than most people think is so true. He was the home to the beginning of the Scientific Revolution, after all. And Liet? I think he's having internal struggles here. His body wants something different than what his mind does, and he's having trouble deciding what to do. Fortunately, Poland is ok with everything and makes it his goal to take care of Liet. He's so gentle in the way he handles him, whispering positive things in Liet's ear and touching him the way he did. ^__^
I find it very interesting, and a bit disconcerting, how Liet feels about the blindfold. Just saying. Liet trusts Poland entirely to watch over him, but he doesn't seem to be able to trust himself. Of course, when Russia's ever-present in your mind, it's sort of hard.
I'd like to see this continued. I want to find out what happens after this. Liet's thoughts are so odd (for lack of a better word) I want to hear more of them. But this is just fine where it is, of course! I love Poland and Lithuania!
This was really wonderfully IC, and I love what you do with Liet's thoughts.
Also, it's good to see Poland being sweet and considerate and sharper than he looks. And the trust! The trust Liet showed in spite of his misgivings really got me. Thank you for this, Anon, and I do hope you continue.
original request: http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/3274.html?thread=2519498#t2519498
During his time with Russia, Liet was unwillingly conditioned into having a serious kink for bondage. Poland finds out about it- and shows him that it's not a bad thing, if it's with someone you trust.
Bonus: Poland really takes his time about it and/or is a bit of a tease.
---
He could feel the blood rushing to his head, and he turned his face away. With any luck Poland would ignore it - that would be the best thing, he was sure. Ignore it, and maybe Lithuania could go down on him and not ask for reciprocation and they'd let the whole thing slide. Yes. Unfortunately, Poland was a lot sharper than most people thought.
"Liet? You okay?" Poland blinked a few times, then pushed himself up on his elbows. Without even the weight on his chest holding him down, he had lost his arousal completely, and Lithuania only blushed deeper as Poland sat up and narrowed his eyes. "Liet, if you don't wanna do this, that's fine, I know it's - well -"
"I do!" He tried to fill his voice with conviction. "Poland, I want to do this, I want to be with you." He didn't need to fill in You're so much better than Russia. They knew it, and saying it would only raise questions. Two hundred years worth of questions, and now was not the time.
"But as soon as I let go of your wrists you start trying to get away." Poland rocked their hips together, as if for emphasis. Then his face went pale. "I shouldn't have grabbed your wrists, should I, oh crap, I'm sorry -"
"No! It's not that. I don't mind. I trust you." Lithuania forced himself to smile. The next words came out in a rush, only half on purpose: "Please do it again."
Poland frowned, but he obliged - he leaned forward and grabbed Lithuania's wrists, pinning them to the pillow on each side of his head. "This doesn't, like, make you want to run away? You're breathing ha - oh. Ooooh." The motion of his hips this time was entirely deliberate, and Lithuania arched up to meet it. "Liet," Poland mumbled incredulously. "You like this?"
It was no good trying to hide, was it? Not from Poland. "I don't like it," he began, "but - but I've gotten used to it. Really used to it."
"So, what, you can't get off unless I'm holding you down?"
He swallowed. "Probably not. Not after - I haven't, uh. Been able to. Not since . . ."
The stormy expession on Poland's face made him shiver, but then Poland muttered, "That bastard. It's Russia, isn't it," he added in a rush. "He made you get used to it." Lithuania nodded, feeling himself tremble. "That utter and complete asshole, I'll kick his ass six ways to next Wednesday, I'm gonna hang him up by his fucking toenails and - "
"Poland!" He gasped, and Poland stopped in mid-tirade. His hands had been tightening, and that was - was it bad that it felt so good? "Poland, please, I don't want - I don't want to think about Russia right now."
It took a few careful breaths before Poland's stormy expression faded. "Okay. No talking about Russia. Later. I can totally do that. Right." Another deep breath, and then a smile blossomed across his face. In the twilight it looked real, and if his eyes were shadowed, well, it was that much easier to fill them in with a sunny expression in his mind. "Okay, Liet. Still want sex? Or you just, like, want to cuddle? Or do you want me to go away?"
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If he'd let Lithuania's wrists go, Lithuania would have lost his nerve. But he could still feel that, and he was still aroused, and he must be blushing so hard right now, but - "Don't go," he said, and Poland's fingers tightened. "Please don't go. I still want to do this with you."
"Right." Poland hissed out a long sigh, and he squirmed down until he was close enough to start licking at Lithuania's neck again, which - oooh. Oh, that was almost nice enough to make him forget where they were, what was happening. Poland's breath was warm on his ear, and the weight on his chest and reassuing - Poland was a lot lighter than - than Lithuania was used to. It felt good. He squirmed a little, feeling their jeans rub together - how had they gotten this far and not gotten rid of those? - and the firm reassurance of Poland's hand on his wrists. The licking eased into a long kiss. When it finally broke Poland smiled at him. "Okay," he breathed. "You need this. Not so bad. We can deal."
Yes, he wanted to say, but the words got lost halfway and emerged from his lips as an inarticulate whimper
Poland grinned and let go with one hand while he undid his belt with the other. "I'll make it feel good. I swear."
"Thank you." Lithuania tried to stop blushing, but it wasn't going very well. At least the blood wasn't showing any signs of leaving, um, other areas, either. He lay patiently as Poland wrapped the belt around his wrists, looped it through the headboard and buckled it. It didn't dig in, didn't feel like it was about to slip off his wrists, and it shouldn't have been as comfortable as it was, to lie back and let someone else control him, own him - he'd put up with it long enough - but this way he could tell himself It's not your fault. You couldn't have gotten away. Deep breaths.
"This okay? What do you want me to do, Liet?"
"Just keep touching me." Don't ask me, he thought, which was ridiculous. He wanted this, he did, and there was a treacherous voice pointing out how Poland had always been in charge, always conrolled him, always done whatever he wanted and ridden roughshod over Lithuania's desires. He told it bitterly to shut up. He'd never thought things were perfect between them. Poland had gotten what he wanted, always, and run all over Lithuanian culture and not even learned his language, and - and it had still been rich and warm and wonderful and so much better than the Soviet Union. Poland had said Lithuania was his partner, and then treated him like an extension of himself. Poland gave him religion and architecture and literary culture. Russia had said Lithuania was part of him, and then treated him like a serf. He closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths.
At about this point in the process, Russia had generally gotten sick of his whimpering and gagged him. At about this point in the process he'd generally been grateful for that, since it spared him Russia's kisses and let him keep a bit of dignity.
Poland just kissed his closed eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "I've got an idea," he breathed. "Just wait a sec, okay? I'm not going to leave the room." Lithuania nodded, and tried not to feel nervous at the way the bed creaked as Poland climbed off him. Deep breaths. If he had to he could probably get loose, the belt wasn't that tight, he could unbuckle it. And besides, he had no choice, he was helpless, completely at Poland's mercy, so he might as well lie back and enjoy it. He carefully ignored the way these two ideas contadicted each other.
Lithuania opened his eyes for a second as Poland clambered back onto the bed. He was holding a silk scarf and beaming. "Close your eyes, Liet," he whispered. Lithuania complied, and repressed a shiver as the scarf was wrapped around his head. "You okay?"
"Yes."
"Good." Fingers running through his hair again, and warm breath on his neck. "You're so beautiful," came the whisper in his ear. "So gorgeous, I could just spend hours watching you brath, you know? Can I -" One hand hd already started on his jeans.
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"Yes, please,," he moaned. The blindfold was probably a good idea - he didn't have the concentration to look at anything right now, and he didn't really want to see Poland's face in case the smile cracked. He tugged a bit on the belt and arched his hips to help as Poland slid his jeans out of the way - he didn't slide them off quite yet; they tangled around his knees as Poland knelt on his thighs and wrapped a hand around his cock. He whimpered, and arched up again into the touch. He felt warm. Poland kept murmuring, undoing a few buttons of Lithuania's shirt and running his fingers over the skin revealed by it, dotting kisses all over his face, teling him how sweet he was, how pretty, how nice a voice he had, and he held onto that and let himself lie still and not struggle, and his mind drifted away, awash on the warm haze of whispers and touches.
It was okay. Poland, he trusted. He told himself that very hard.
It was easy enough to forget, to let the vulnerability undo his inhibitions and the comforting touch draw out the sorts of noises Russia would probably have liked. Russia was never so slow, so gentle and careful. Russia liked to get it over with, and he had sucked so hard and fast it never took long, no matter how hard Lithuania tried not to think of anything, not to let himself respond. Poland took his time. He traced elaborate patterns over Lithuania's skin, stroked him and kissed him and whispered that it was fine, he was safe, nothing bad was going to happen. And as long as he didn't have to see anything, Lithuania could believe that, could tell himself that lying here with his hands tied over his head and Poland pinning his legs down wasn't a vulnerability or a weakness or something he had to defend against. That Poland would look after him.
Like he always had, and that was the difference, wasn't it?
When he came, it was a suprise, a sudden overflowing after a buildup so gradual he had scarcely noticed it, floating on a cushion of comforting words as he was. Russia had always dragged it out of him, almost fast enough to be painful. He lay there for a long while with Poland collapsed against his side, feeling for once no particular urgency to get his hands free or clean up or cover himself, until the sweat had cooled on their skin and his arms were starting to cramp.
--
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It would be really awsome to read more :)
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I find it very interesting, and a bit disconcerting, how Liet feels about the blindfold. Just saying. Liet trusts Poland entirely to watch over him, but he doesn't seem to be able to trust himself. Of course, when Russia's ever-present in your mind, it's sort of hard.
I'd like to see this continued. I want to find out what happens after this. Liet's thoughts are so odd (for lack of a better word) I want to hear more of them. But this is just fine where it is, of course! I love Poland and Lithuania!
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Also, it's good to see Poland being sweet and considerate and sharper than he looks. And the trust! The trust Liet showed in spite of his misgivings really got me. Thank you for this, Anon, and I do hope you continue.
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