Hetalia Kink meme part 9 -- CLOSED
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hetalia kink meme
part 9
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( Christmas Reveals )
Iceland’s body heaved and he was sobbing so much he could barely make his voice work. Not receiving a response, England ran the cane over Iceland’s backside. “Do I have to ask again...?” he taunted.
Iceland choked back his tears. “Four billion pounds ... sir,” he blubbed.
“Correct.” THWACK!
Iceland crumbled into the chair as he pulled at his blonde hair in frustration. “Please England, no more...” he begged in halting breaths.
THWACK! England sneered at the defeated nation. “I will tell you when it’s enough!” THWACK! “You’ve enjoyed the spoils of your little venture but now you are unable to bear the burden!” THWACK! Iceland reeled as England continued, “You have cheated honest men and women of their life savings!” THWACK! “And yet you provide no solution on how to fix your mess!” THWACK!
“I-I’ll fix it! I’ll fix it!” cried Iceland. “Just tell me how!”
THWACK! “No!” growled England. “You just don’t get it! It is not up to powerful nations to solve the problems of thoughtless little countries. Think about what you can do to right your wrong!”
England moved in front of Iceland and lifted his head with his hand. “Tell me how you will right your wrong,” he said evenly.
Iceland met England’s gaze, tears dripping onto the other’s glove. England was right. He had for too long depended on other nations to help him out, to write the answers which he could then sign. If he ever wanted to be as powerful and respected as England, he would have to create his own plans, his own solutions.
He swallowed heavily. “I’ll raise the revenue through calling in my debts.” England looked doubtful but Iceland pressed on. “I’ll apply a market rate of interest on those who have borrowed against me instead of a discount rate because I’m afraid they’ll go elsewhere!” England raised an eyebrow. “I’ll streamline my tax laws, minimising wastage, cutting duplication,” he breathed.
“I’ll guarantee the deposits - ” declared Iceland more forcefully. “I’ll write a Bill for us to sign. That way you’ll have redress against me if I fail. You’ll get your money back, it may take me some time, but I promise it.” He looked at England with pleading eyes.
England regarded the weaker nation before him. This was quite a turn of events. He didn’t think Iceland had it in him to make such diplomatic decisions. He was - slightly - impressed. “Stand up,” he ordered. Iceland stood, wiping his eyes quickly with his sleeve. England stared at the young man for a moment before taking off his glove and extending his hand. Iceland’s breath hitched. He reached out gingerly before England snatched his hand and shook it once. “Agreed.”
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A/N: A-ha! The story’s far from over yet. I didn’t write that passage about the weather just for fun! :) But since Iceland features in so few fan fictions without Norway or in a threesome with Denmark, I have devised two alternate endings based on the same events - one sweet, one angsty (though both end up with UK and Iceland shagging like rabbits). I’ll post both in the coming days! Hope you’ve enjoyed the story so far.
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Iceland felt relieved that this ordeal was finally over, and especially that Norway and Finland’s ‘financial gang bang’ theory turned out to be a big fat crock. He pulled up his trousers as best he could over his welted rear end, sucking his breath in sharply as the fabric slid over his punishment, reminding him of England’s lesson. A few feet away, the other nation leant against his desk, watching him dress. England’s eyes roamed over the younger man’s body, taking in his untouched white skin, his boyish demeanour, his shy actions.
As Iceland worked his boots, his mind drifted back to their earlier conversation with Denmark in England’s sitting room. “Um, England?” he asked quietly.
The other nation seemed lost in his thoughts, though his eyes were still fixed firmly on Iceland. “Hmm?”
“I was j-just wondering whether ... you know ... if this agreement has changed your mind about me ... and the EU?”
England pondered a moment and then actually gave a small smile. “I think the agreement has shown that you are willing to take better responsibility for your actions. I guess I could let your application pass...”
Iceland suppressed a smile and returned to lacing his boots, afraid to show too much enthusiasm in front of England. After all, he wanted to leave here with England thinking he had grown from the experience, not that he was an excitable child. “Um, England?” he asked again.
“Yes?”
“Um, I’m s-sorry I’ve caused you so much bother recently,” he stammered. “I mean with this Icesave business and the weather and all - ” Iceland stopped dead. Denmark had warned him earlier not to mention the weather incident. After all, England didn’t know -
“Oh, it’s fine now,” murmured England, his eyes watching the pale youth kneeling on his bedroom floor. “Once you write up that Bill, I think ... ” England trailed off suddenly, his brow furrowing.
Iceland could practically hear the cogs whirling in England’s head and he started pulling his boots on in haste so that he could leave. Why the hell had he undone the laces so much? Oh, right, to delay his ass getting flamed from England’s cane. He felt the other nation’s heavy foot steps coming towards him but he kept his eyes down, determined to get his boots on and depart.
“What did you say?” asked England. His voice was even and Iceland was unable to read whether he had picked up Iceland’s slip up. “About the weather. What did you say about the weather?”
Iceland felt England’s hand rest on his head but he wouldn’t respond.
“Stand up,” ordered England, softly.
Iceland’s heart dropped as he reluctantly put his boot aside and obeyed England. He couldn’t look the other nation in the eye, afraid if he did, he would give away his secret.
“The weather,” commented England in that same eerily low voice. “The snow which encases my country ... you did it, didn’t you?”
The room was deathly still. England’s face was mere inches away from Iceland’s. He could feel the older nation’s breath, each one accentuating the passage of time as they stood in silence. Iceland finally spoke: “Yes.” It was less than a whisper, his lips barely moving as he confessed his crime. He didn’t even want to think about how England would punish him now.
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A/N: And now the ending splits into two alternative directions. Will England be pissed? Or will he react in another way? Stay tuned!
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“I’m not as good as Norway,” Iceland said. “I can’t really control it. Like now with the weather. It just sort of ... happened.”
“It just happened?” Iceland nodded. “So it came out ... involuntarily?” Iceland nodded again.
“And I don’t know how to stop it ... and neither does Norway - ”
“Are you sleeping with Norway?” interrupted England.
Iceland baulked, “What? No way! He’s my brother! We don’t do that sort of stuff!” he cried. “And besides, he’s with Denmark”, he added quietly. He was painfully aware that he was the only Nordic without a lover. He was already the youngest and this extra fact made him feel like a little kid compared to the others.
“And Denmark,” pressed England. “You’ve never ...”
Iceland glared at him. What exactly did England think the Nordics did when they were together? “No,” he said curtly. “I am not sleeping with Denmark. I merely live in his house. That’s all.”
“So when was the last time you did? Sleep with someone, I mean?”
Iceland fumed. England was nothing but a filthy perv! “That’s none of your damn business!” he snapped, his face reddening. He knelt down in a huff and began to pull on his other boot, lacing the eyelets furiously. There was no way he was going to confess his virginity to England. He’d probably tell France or America and then everyone would know.
England knelt beside Iceland whose eyes started to prick with tears again as he fumbled with his laces. “Are you a virgin?” Iceland threw the boot away in exasperation and gave England the dirtiest look he could.
But to his surprise, England wore a kind look. “If you are, well that probably explains what happened, how you couldn’t control it.”
Iceland forgot he was supposed to be furious with England. “Really?”
“Well, yes,” said England. “You didn’t know?” England’s face flushed slightly. “You need to let your magic out every now and then, otherwise it can build up and escape involuntarily. Like now,” he gestured to the snow falling outside his darkening windows.
Iceland was confused. Let it out? Let it out, how? England looked at him meaningfully. Oh god, no, thought Iceland. He can’t mean... “Sex?” whispered Iceland, scandalized.
England nodded. “You’d never guess it, but Prussia is charmed too. But since he gets laid so often he’s never built up much of a magical charge,” he laughed.
Iceland shook his head, refusing to believe it. “But that doesn’t make any sense,” he whined.
England shrugged. “Actually it does. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard about the financial - ”
“Gang bang,” finished Iceland. Power transferred through sex. Norway and Finland had been telling the truth. “So why didn’t you just try to,” Iceland blushed, “ravage me earlier for the Icesave payments?”
England snorted. “It doesn’t work like that. The power transferred through physical contact relates to what’s up here,” England gestured randomly above his head. “Stuff you can’t see, like magic. The financial gang bang helps solve the global economy, the share market - the financial elements you can’t see. The Icesave bank incident needed a contractual solution. My cane happened to be the appropriate tool to secure that,” he smirked.
Iceland glowered. “So, what now? You want me to sleep with you?” he guessed.
“Well you don’t seem to be able to get laid on your own,” retorted England bitterly. “And my country will remain blanketed in snow until you get some action.”
Iceland pouted. This was so unfair!
England exhaled deeply. “Look, your magical charge has been building constantly since you’re avoiding sex. And because you’ve been under a lot of strain from the Icesave matter, it’s only natural that when it came out, it was directed towards me.” Iceland looked up at England. “So why don’t you let me help you?”
Iceland bit his lip. He did want to have sex ... and England was a lot more experienced ... maybe, it wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. “Okay, England....” he found himself saying for the second time today.
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HELL YES, ANON.
I love how England did that sneaky talk-Iceland-into-sex thing.
I hope he at least give the poor boy a good first time <3
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A/N: This is sorta long, had to split it across several posts. But finally a conclusion! :)
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England cupped the younger nation’s face in his hands and kissed him. Iceland’s body tingled, whether from magic or having yearned so long for a lover’s touch, he did not know. When England broke away, he turned his head towards his bed and exhaled. A faint golden mist escaped his mouth and when it touched the budded roses sitting on his bedside table, they opened in full bloom. “Wow,” said England. “You really are repressed!”
Iceland was impressed. Norway had never been able to do anything so cool! He wondered what other magic England knew.
England looked sheepish. “I’m going to have to ask you to get undressed again.” But Iceland was already tearing off his jacket and shirt eagerly. He winced as he removed his trousers and kicked off the one boot he managed to get on. England looked at the young man’s stinging rump. “I’m only going to do this today because of the special circumstances, but if you ever cross my cane again, I will not grant you such a reprieve,” he said sternly. England murmured something and Iceland wriggled as he felt the flagellated flesh on his rear heal itself.
England lead Iceland over to his bed. With the flick of his hand, dozens of lit candles appeared on the floor, basking the room in a soft yellow glow. The older nation nudged the youth onto the bed, removing his own jacket and shirt, then leaning onto Iceland to kiss him again, slowly and with feeling. Iceland melted into the mattress with bliss. He wanted to touch England, to grasp his hair, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. As though he could hear his thoughts, England whispered in his ear, “Lad, you need to let it all out. Do what you want. You can touch me, it’s okay - ”
Iceland’s excited fingers wound themselves into England’s locks impatiently as England resumed snogging him. Oh, how he had been wanting this for so long!
England pulled his mouth away and Iceland’s head lolled to the side, grinning deliriously, his eyes closed. His breath quickened as England started nipping and licking at his neck and shoulder, his hands sliding down the youth’s smooth chest drawing circular patterns.
“England...” was all Iceland could manage to mewl as the older nation’s hands continued their descent, traversing lower on his body.
The Brit sat up slightly and Iceland opened his eyes to look at him. England’s hair was mussed up and Iceland heard a faint rustling sound as England took off his belt and then his trousers, throwing them off the end of the bed. The pair of them were now completely naked, with England straddling him.
Iceland shyly looked down at England’s groin. He hadn’t really seen another man naked before. Sure, Denmark occasionally stumbled about the house in all his glory but Iceland always turned away, too ashamed to be caught looking at his brother’s lover, reminding him of the partner he didn’t possess. England was noticeably larger than him, he noted as he timidly reached out to touch the other’s blonde curls. He was mortified that his hand was doing such an act, but it also felt so right.
When Iceland touched England’s cock hesitantly, the other nation gently wrapped his hand around the youth’s. Together, they stroked England into a state of arousal, Iceland fascinated to feel him harden in his hand.
England’s eyes fluttered, half closed from the sensation. He leaned down and tenderly kissed Iceland again on the neck. “Roll over...” he whispered in his ear.
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Iceland looked ashamed, “Yes ... I’m just ...” he trailed off, looking away from England.
England kissed him delicately on the mouth. “It’s okay to be scared,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you.” He stroked Iceland’s pale grey hair quietly.
After a few moments of silence, Iceland slowly rolled onto his stomach. England ran a hand down the youth’s back then placed his hands gently on Iceland’s hips and guided him up onto his knees. He kissed the small of Iceland’s back and reached a hand around tentatively to the younger nation’s organ. He was relieved when Iceland gave a happy sigh. He stroked him for a bit then moved his hands back to Iceland’s hips.
England ran a finger over Iceland’s hole. He was going to be impossibly tight, he thought. He quietly took some lube from his bedside table then slid a digit inside Iceland, thrusting lightly. The younger nation wriggled a bit and surprised England by giving a quiet laugh. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Nothing,” smiled Iceland, looking over his shoulder at England. “It just feels ... very nice.”
“I’m glad.” The youth thankfully seemed to have calmed down. Following a few more thrusts, England removed his finger.
Iceland didn’t have time to question this as he felt England enter him properly. His body shuddered with delight. “Don’t forget to let it all out,” reminded England softly.
The older nation moved slowly but rhythmically, Iceland whimpering blissfully with each repetition. England landed a stream of kisses on Iceland’s back as he increased his momentum. Iceland was muttering in some gibberish language under his breath. It was possibly Swedish or Norwegian, thought England.
Confident that Iceland understood to stay in place, England leaned forward and ran his hands down the inside of the youth’s thighs, grazing his cock which was fully aroused. He peppered nips on Iceland’s back, letting his hair fall onto the other, all the while thrusting deeply into Iceland.
“England...” the younger nation mewled pathetically.
“What’s that?” teased England lightly. “I can’t hear you - ”
“Ohhhhh, fuuuuck!” cried Iceland suddenly and quite loudly.
England grinned and increased his efforts. He was enjoying himself thoroughly, his cock deliciously encased in Iceland who was ridiculously tight and hot. He felt that both of them were close to their limits. He grabbed Iceland’s hips again so that he could force his last few thrusts home as deep as possible. Iceland reciprocated, pushing himself against England vigorously. Iceland was fisting the sheets frantically as England leaned over and whispered, “I’m about to come - ”
“Oh, god, me too - ”
England quickly grasped Iceland’s cock as the youth let go and coated his hand in sticky liquid. This set England off and he groaned as his seed exploded into Iceland. Iceland bucked deliriously and then collapsed under England.
England laid down next to the youth and stroked his hair. Iceland tried to smile at him but he had never felt so spent and exhausted in his life, and lapsed into sleep. England moved closer and held the sleeping nation gently, kissing him on the forehead. “It’s okay now...”
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“Hey,” said England softly, putting his book down and taking off his reading glasses.
Iceland merely smiled and snuggled closer to England, who wrapped the younger nation in his arms and rocked him. “That was fun,” said Iceland eventually, still blushing. He buried his face in the crook of England’s neck, embarrassed to look at him.
England just laughed and stroked his hair. “Yes, it was....” He looked out his window. It was now night time, but he no longer heard the familiar patter of snow.
Iceland strained his face up to England who answered with a kiss. “Anything?” asked Iceland, glancing at the roses on England’s bedside table.
“Hmm, yes there is a spark,” said England. “But it’s got nothing to do with repressed magic,” he hastily added when Iceland started to look crestfallen.
“Oh!” cried Iceland suddenly, sitting upright. “Denmark’s still waiting for me down stairs!” He looked guiltily at England who just chuckled.
“Yes, I’m quite sure he’s terrified that I’ve - ” England started. “Well I guess I did have my way with you.” They both laughed. “Ahh, but it’s getting late. We should go back down.” Iceland’s mouth turned downward in a pout. “It’s okay,” said England, patting him kindly on the head. “You still have to come back and drop off that Bill, remember?” This made Iceland slightly happier.
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Denmark looked over the top of England’s newspaper as he heard foot steps approaching. He wasn’t sure what to expect - the pair of them had been gone for hours and he hoped England hadn’t been too harsh on the youngster. But when they entered the sitting room, he was surprised to see Iceland and England laughing. Iceland seemed particularly happy about something as he bounced over to Denmark. “So, you came to a resolution?” he asked, standing up.
Iceland nodded shyly, his face a little flushed as he clung onto the older Nordic’s sleeve.
Denmark turned back to England. “Well I’m glad you two were able to work things out. I was a little worried there, it took longer than I thought it would.” He couldn’t be certain, but England seemed to redden.
The pair of Nordics bid England farewell and started to descend down his driveway, the fallen snow crunching beneath their boots. “Hey,” said Denmark, surprised. “It’s stopped snowing - ” Iceland pulled his scarf closer around his neck and started to pace faster as Denmark gasped, “Iceland! You didn’t - ”
England watched from his doorway as the two bickering nations wound their way down the snowy slope. As they passed outside the gate, Iceland turned and smiled shyly at him, and then disappeared from view.
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A/N: Nawww!! I am putting the finishing touches on the alternative angsty ending but it may take up to a week for me to post it. Basically the magical charge still needs to come out of Iceland but England might not be so nice and understanding .... Comments and reviews on this chapter (and the story overall) are very much appreciated! :D
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I love how you've written this so far! Icey needs more fandom love!!! {:
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Iceland nodded once and kept his eyes down. “I didn’t mean it to happen. It just ... did,” he finished lamely.
England regarded the young man standing shamefully before him. This was an interesting turn of events. How was Iceland, this mere youth, able to pull off a feat of magic this powerful? If this had been war time, he would be a formidable foe - no army could march through a fortnight’s days and nights of freezing weather.
“You’re quite the little sorcerer, aren’t you?” taunted England, his lips curled into a sneer. “Been learning a few tricks from big brother Norway, have we?”
Iceland shook his head, no. “I-it was an accident,” he breathed. “I-I didn’t mean...”
The cogs whirled in England’s head. Didn’t mean it? How was that possible? Iceland had been avoiding him for weeks over the Icesave Bank fiasco, maybe the boy had instead been plotting a scheme to grind the English economy to a halt. The weather had certainly made it near impossible for many businesses to even function. So how did he -
“Ohhhh...”
England was mightily pissed that his country had been brought to a stand still by the frozen weather, but, if he was right, this presented him with an opportunity to do something quite delightful. Iceland, he noted, seemed scared of everything. At world meetings he would clutch at Norway or Denmark and speak only when spoken to. He kept to himself, reserved and secretive. Could this young man be -
“You’re a virgin,” stated England, matter of factly. But ... there was also a hint of amusement in his voice.
Iceland’s breath hitched but he kept his gaze away, painfully aware his slowly blushing cheeks provided England with his answer.
England circled around him, coming to stand very close behind the younger nation. He leaned his face over Iceland’s shoulder and whispered in his ear. “You’ve never let your magic out.” Iceland could feel his warm breath on his face. It was unsettling and Iceland’s heart started to beat faster, worried. England merely continued, taunting him, “Your magic’s been building inside you and now it’s just erupted involuntarily.”
England placed a hand on Iceland’s shoulder, gripping it hard. “I can’t have you ruining my economy over something like this, so now,” he leered as the younger nation started to shake, “I’m going to get it out.”
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But before he got more than a few feet away, he collapsed face first onto the hard floor in agonising pain. He tried to scream out to Denmark but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything. A searing pain, like poison, coursed throughout him as he lay immobilised on the ground. What the hell was going on?
He heard a laugh. England kicked him hard, rolling him onto his back. He had an amused look on his face. “Trying to escape?” he mocked. He crouched down and started to undress Iceland roughly while the younger nation could do nothing, frozen like a statue. “Unlike you,” continued England as he ripped Iceland’s shirt from his pale body. “I have mastered my magic.” England’s hands lingered a little too long on Iceland’s flesh as they pulled his trousers from his hips and threw them away.
“Now,” asked England, releasing the spell and grabbing Iceland hard around the throat, almost choking him. “Are you going to be a good boy? Or will I have to restrain you again?”
Iceland could barely breath, “... be ... good...” he whispered as best he could.
England smiled. “That’s what I like to hear.” He dragged Iceland back and England sat on the edge of his bed with his legs open, shoving Iceland onto his knees between them. He painfully grabbed Iceland’s hair with one hand, causing the younger nation to yell out in pain. England almost laughed. This was too easy. He yanked Iceland closer, forcing his cock deep into Iceland’s mouth. England felt Iceland choke and the youth broke from England’s grasp and vomited on the floor. “God, you’re pathetic,” scorned England. “Can’t even give head. Guess we’ll just have to move on...”
Iceland sat panting on the floor. He’d never had a cock in his mouth before. It was shocking but ... no - he shook his head, he couldn’t even finish that thought -
England was standing and he grabbed Iceland’s upper arm in a vice grip and jerked him clumsily to his feet. “Get on the bed, on your hands and knees.”
Iceland whimpered as he did as he was told. The bed dipped as England got on it behind him. He felt his legs being forced further apart and England pushed his shoulders down so that he was now on his elbows.
Something flew out of the bedside drawer and England caught it. Iceland felt England’s hand land on his hip as two fingers enter him swiftly. His breath hitched, his fingers curling around the sheets. There was a little bit of lube, but not enough. England wanted this to be rough.
This was the first time Iceland had been penetrated. It hurt. Oh God, did it hurt. But .... His brain raged with so many emotions. Pain. Shame. Indignity. Terror. Anticipation. Excitement. Desire ...
England shoved his fingers in and out, twisting them occasionally just to hear Iceland snivel. The fingers were pulled out roughly. A part of Iceland wanted to fall forward onto the bed in exhaustion but another part ... kept him in position ... waiting ...
England shifted on the bed behind him then slid his hands onto Iceland’s hips. Iceland mewled softly, knowing what was coming. “Time to get the magic out,” laughed England crudely and he rammed his length into the younger nation, holding him in place, his fingers digging into Iceland’s hips.
Iceland panted hard. His brain turned to slush as he felt a strange sensation overwhelm him. England pulled out a bit then slammed back into him, Iceland moaning. “Nnnngh....”
England repeated his action, but this time, Iceland pushed back into England when the other slammed into his again, making sure England was as deep as he could go. “Fuuuuuck...” whispered Iceland deliriously.
England stopped and Iceland felt his cheeks burn with shame, realising what he’d just done. One of England’s hands reached around and felt Iceland’s cock. It was hard. Iceland suddenly heard England’s voice in his head. “You’re enjoying this,” the older voice said accusingly. Oh, shit. He’s in my mind, too?
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Yes, he thought, and England’s voice tutted inside his head. “Say it out loud, slut.”
Iceland flushed with humiliation but he said it. “I’m a whore...” he whispered.
“Louder,” commanded England’s voice in his head.
Iceland bucked his hips into England as the latter came forward. “I’m a fucking whore.... ” he said more loudly between his heavy breaths.
England laughed. He may have found an eager new play thing. England continued to thrust into the confused younger nation, Iceland now hissing out loud, moaning obscenities. When England finally released himself into Iceland, the youth fell forward onto the bed. But England grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around to look at him, “You’re not done yet.”
Iceland looked down at England’s cock, covered in sticky come. Wow, it was big, he thought. No wonder it felt so good. Then he flushed. England obviously would have heard that thought.
“Yes, I did,” said the voice in Iceland’s head. “Now be a good slut...”
Iceland crawled over to England and without further guidance, took the other’s cock in his mouth, licking up the come ravenously. It was bitter, but he wanted all of it. He didn’t even need England’s hand in his hair to make him take it deep in his mouth. And this time, he didn’t choke.
When he’d finished cleaning off England, Iceland was pulled back onto the bed with England to sleep. The older nation’s breaths grew steady and slow. Iceland looked over to the door. Denmark would be wondering what the hell had been taking him so long, he thought, and he could probably sneak off without England noticing...
“Little whore ...” he heard in his head suddenly, England opening an eye to smirk at him. Iceland turned away from him, not wanting England to see the guilt in his face. But he stayed in the bed. Denmark could wait a little longer.
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A/N: Okay now it's completed (finally)!! Reviews much appreciated.
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