Untitled [5/?]
anonymous
September 19 2010, 04:05:53 UTC
Why hello again! Thanks for all of your wonderful wonderful comments anons! :D They are as delicious to me as I hope this fill is to you, you know!
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Denmark is a bit surprised when, seemingly out of nowhere, the slow, heavy kissing and touching he’s watching snaps into something almost animalistic. Sweden wraps one arm around Russia’s waist and pulls him in even closer, chests brushing, while the other reaches up and grabs Russia by the back of the head, pressing their mouths together with a light clack of teeth.
If Russia minds he doesn’t let on - he moves almost into Sweden’s lap, shoves his tongue down Sweden’s throat, runs a hand down chest and abs and hips. He reaches further down and brushes against Sweden’s crotch - Sweden growls at that, flips them into the middle of the bed and grinds down. They stretch out and tangle into one another, gasping - feeling shifting legs and naked skin and searching hands.
They thrust against each other with pants still on, wrapped up - on the bed, Denmark glowers, so far away from his chair - Sweden on top for now. Denmark watches them kiss and it’s deep, harsher - he watches as Russia’s eyebrows furrow the tiniest bit, Sweden’s eyes screw tightly shut, their hands claw everywhere, impatient to explore every inch of exposed skin, thread through hair, occasionally stop and dig nails in.
Russia kisses down Sweden’s jaw and licks down his neck, marking it up over Sweden’s desperate swallows, his continued thrusts. Russia begins shucking off Sweden’s pants, Sweden moans and rubs his thumb harshly along the muscle at the top of Russia’s arm, strokes back and forth, following the prominent line of muscle. Russia pulls Sweden’s pants down as much as he can - Sweden shifts to one arm and uses the other to pull them down further before shimmying out of them. He sits back on his knees and goes to undo Russia’s pants, eyeing the bulge there, and leans down and ghosts his lips along Russia’s stomach and hips as he does.
Russia quickly lifts his hips so that Sweden can pull them down, chest rising and falling rapidly - Denmark eyes Russia’s clothed erection as well. As Sweden moves down, he nips at the top hem of Russia’s underwear - Russia lets out an understated noise of frustration. “Stop this teasing,” he groans, frowning.
All Sweden says in reply is “Hm.” He grunts and sits back up, moves to the side a bit to yank off one leg of Russia’s pant legs, then the other - hasty and awkward. He kneels back over Russia’s thigh - one long, lean leg on one side, one on the other - and leans forward, places his hands around Russia’s hips, digging his thumbs in faintly. Russia retaliates by moving one of those powerful thighs against Sweden’s erection - Sweden grunts and bucks against it before he abruptly straightens out over Russia once again. Their bodies meld together and slide a bit - Denmark sees that a soft sheen of sweat has begun to form on Russia’s torso. Russia’s hand slips on Sweden’s back, Sweden gains a faint flush.
Russia’s hands move up to grip Sweden’s ass - he grinds up against Sweden harshly and bites his lip in one swift, sharp movement. Both let out loud, long moans - Sweden’s eyes shut for a split second.
At that a desperate noise escapes Denmark’s throat and he tries to lurch forward despite the futility of it. Ugh, those sounds. Deep and wanting and obscene.
Russia and Sweden freeze, panting, and they both look over at him with curious gazes. Sweden’s then slides into a tiny smirk - Russia turns his attention to Sweden’s neck - the smirk falters as Russia marks up Sweden’s neck and runs a hand up his back, twisting their legs together.
“I think your Daniya likes watching us,” Russia murmurs against Sweden’s jaw with a chuckle. Denmark inhales sharply at the commentary; hearing it, Russia looks over and quirks an eyebrow. “You did not tell me he liked watching,” he continues, studying Denmark’s response to this even while he reaches an arm between himself and Sweden - he palms Sweden though the boxers and is rewarded with a gruff, muted sound.
Untitled [6/?]
anonymous
September 19 2010, 04:06:55 UTC
Denmark lets out a tiny noise and clenches his jaw to stop it. His gaze flickers back and forth between that large hand cupping Sweden and the smirk on Russia’s face as he runs his teeth along Sweden’s neck, eyes meeting his.
“Daniya,” Russia says, quiet, but dark and forceful. “Will you watch me fellate Shvetsiya? I think I would like to,” he continues over Sweden’s groan and Denmark’s thundering breaths.
Yes, Denmark is sure of it - he will watch with rapt attention if Russia blows Sweden. Especially if he keeps making Sweden make those noises. He nods frantically and makes a muffled noise of agreement through the shirt.
“Or perhaps would you enjoy it just as much if I described it for you,” Russia sneers, even while running a tongue along the line of Sweden’s shoulder. Sweden simply ducks his head in and begins mouthing Russia’s ear, but Denmark shoots him a confused look.
Russia’s eyes shut and his mouth falls open before he turns back to Sweden and cups his jaw, brings them together for another heated kiss - another minute of this, Denmark silently straining against his bindings - just - any friction, please, this was torture - and unable to achieve any relief - Sweden had put rope around his torso, and his legs, but not his lap, damn it - and then Russia pulls away even while wrapping his arms around Sweden’s back, presses them together. Denmark watches their sweaty bodies slide against one another, outline of ribs and muscle moving in shuddering, heaving motions.
“I think,” Russia gasps, looking at Sweden, “that your lover seems to enjoy - what is it - dirty talk?”
At this Denmark shuts his eyes and tries to calm down, or at least relieve some stress by struggling against his bindings, though even that has already proven to be pretty pointless. He’s so aroused - and - fuck - couldn’t they pay just a little attention to him!? Russia makes a pleased noise at his response. Denmark doesn’t see Sweden’s reaction.
Denmark hears them shift and looks up at them - they’re both sitting up on their knees in the middle of the bed, Sweden running teeth and tongue along Russia’s collarbone, punctuating with the occasional kiss, Russia’s hands on Sweden’s hips - both obviously very aroused. Russia brings one hand up to the turn of Sweden’s jaw and runs his nails down the side of Sweden’s neck; they leave faint trails in their wake. Sweden moans and lets out a stuttering breath.
Russia’s attention is taken by Denmark’s louder moan, though. “Ah - perhaps he is just turned on by noise in general,” he announces to both of them. Both Denmark and Sweden nod - Denmark reluctantly, Sweden as one curt, efficient motion of the head, more focused on running his hands up Russia’s sides and biting the join of collarbone and shoulder.
Bringing a hand up to Sweden’s hair, Russia presses him in a little more, then looks at Denmark. “Well,” Russia says, a bit breathless, “that sounds like much fun.” He abruptly presses Sweden down into the mattress below him. “What would you like to see, Daniya?” he asks as he leans down, running his large hands up Sweden’s thighs, and mouths Sweden’s erection through his underwear. Sweden half-shouts at that and Denmark moans long and loud - so loud it is barely muffled.
Russia pulls back up, looks and Denmark, and uses a hand to rub Sweden, roughly. “I could touch him, like this,” he smirks - Denmark’s eyes flicker down - Sweden, panting, sweat running down his temples, legs spread wide, thrusting lightly into that touch, one hand bunched in the quilt on the bed, mouth in a grimace - then back up to Russia’s face.
“Or,” Russia continues, “I could perform oral sex on him -” with this he lifts the hem of Sweden’s boxers, pulls them down past his erection - Denmark stares and swallows audibly.
“If so, how would you like me to?” Russia asks, a soft purr, smirk in his voice. “I could tease him. I could go slowly, and play with him first - and not let him find relief until he makes noise that is to your satisfaction.”
Untitled [7/?]
anonymous
September 19 2010, 04:08:01 UTC
Denmark throws his head back and stretches up into his bindings, eyes closed, jaw clenched - he decides that grinding his teeth down onto the shirt in his mouth is a decent way to vent his sexual frustration. He might chew through it before this is over, though. He is definitely gonna have trouble breathing if Russia keeps this up.
“I could also take him into my mouth completely,” Russia says, interrupting his thoughts. Denmark looks at Russia again; Russia catches his eye, makes sure he’s looking, before he resumes. “It would be fast and, ah, sloppy? Yes. Much spit and usage of my tongue.”
With those words Sweden swears softly and arches up off the bed a little; Denmark can’t tear his eyes from the sight.
Russia smiles and looks at Sweden as well - frantically rising chest, throat working, glazed eyes trained upon the ceiling.
While Sweden calms down a little, Russia watches Denmark watching the two of them. He really is liking this, isn’t he? Much more than either Sweden or Russia thought he would.
Sweden lets out one loud huff and looks at Russia, gaze serious and heated. Russia meets his eyes - “Fuck me,” Sweden demands. He turns his head to Denmark and growls “Danmark likes t’see me in a submissive p’sition,” with a wry twist of his mouth.
Russia raises his eyebrows and he turns to observe Denmark as well, pulling Sweden close to himself, allowing their erections to brush together, slightly. “This could be arranged. Daniya?”
Denmark can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Sweden just ordered Russia to fuck him. And Denmark is not opposed to this at all - though it’s true, he likes seeing Sweden in a “submissive position”, he likes it the other way around as well. He knows Sweden knows that - he’s just being a passive-agressive dick, Denmark thinks with a growl.
He recovers and violently nods his approval. They both hastily tug off their underwear and take a moment to observe each other; seeing the undisguised lust on both of their faces makes Denmark’s hard-on throb and his chest constrict. Russia lubes up his fingers and cock - that elicits a small groan - while Sweden lays back on his elbows, breathing still heavy, and watches Russia’s hand stroke up and down. Denmark doesn’t even know where to look, but either sight ensures his erection isn’t going away anytime soon.
Russia carefully puts a slightly shaky hand between Sweden’s legs, and Denmark can’t really see what happens in graphic detail. He doesn’t know whether that is a blessing or a curse. He would love to see, but he didn’t really know if his dick can handle it at this point. Or his brain, for that matter.
Sweden lets out a cut-off hitch of a breath, and Russia clicks his tongue, finger carefully moving in and out, and mutters “You should not hold back. Daniya is aroused by your noises.”
When all that happens is a few breaths that have a little sound behind them, Russia bends down and laps at the head Sweden’s cock, eyes trained on Sweden’s face. A strangled sound is emitted into the air and Sweden’s entire body twitches - unsure as if it should move up into Russia’s hot mouth or down onto Russia’s teasing finger.
Denmark’s muffled, appreciative cursing is almost drowned out by Russia’s chuckle and Sweden’s noise as Russia simultaneously adds another finger and swallows Sweden down a little further. Russia speeds up both movements - Sweden still can’t seem to decide where to move his hips so he arches his back up off the bed instead with a guttural growl - Denmark is just tight, too tight, everywhere - all of his muscles are strained, tight, taut with tension, the air in his chest, his throat - tight - tight breaths - tight pants, but not nearly tight enough - all of those goddamn ropes around him, too tight and still not tight enough. No relief, no relief, and as Russia pulls his hand out and pushes himself in, Sweden lets out a loud groan, wraps a long, slender leg around Russia’s ass, thrusts himself up onto Russia’s erection - ugh, they are both making the most vulgar, amazing noises.
Untitled [8/?]
anonymous
September 19 2010, 04:09:01 UTC
Denmark realizes he’s panting into his gag, uttering things along the lines of “oh Jesus fuck you two” and “louder” and most of all “please, please, keep going,” though the words are impossible to discern once they escape the filter of the shirt.
Russia raises himself up on his arms over Sweden, then uses one arm to swing Sweden’s other leg over a broad shoulder. It’s an awkward position - one leg over Russia’s shoulder, the other around his waist, Sweden’s hips completely raised from the bed - and if it wasn’t for Sweden’s obscenely long legs and their matching heights, it might have been impossible - but apparently it’s a really good one. Sweden inhales sharply, meets Russia’s next thrust violently, then his rumbling shout cuts through the air.
“Yes, I think that is what he wants to hear,” Russia pants, and thrusts even harder into Sweden this time - another growled, choked shout. Denmark agrees, loudly, and twists his jaw, fabric against his teeth being the only useful friction he can access.
An irregular murmur of words begin streaming from Sweden’s mouth, cut off by each hard thrust, the sound low and almost - rasping. He turns his head to the side and stares at Denmark - twitching against the bindings, muscles clenched and defined, sweat running down his body - he looks - fuck -
Sweden brings his hand down to his erection and lightly traces along it, gives a loud moan just for Denmark. At Denmark’s wild jerk and tightened jaw, he throws his head back, baring his neck, opens his mouth, lets his eyes stare, half-lidded.
Russia slows to small, shallow thrusts and follows his gaze. Sends a heated, twisted smile Denmark’s way. “I think we have given him enough of a show, yes?” he breathes, voice a bit husky.
“Prob’ly,” Sweden grunts. He wraps his hand around himself entirely and licks his lips, watches Denmark’s eyes follow his hand - up, down, up - slow strokes, matching Russia’s slow rocking rhythm, his cock hard and heavy under his palm. “Ya gonna play nice?” he asks once Denmark meets his eyes.
Denmark nods yet again and loudly says - well, who knows what it is - into the gag.
Sweden looks up at Russia. Russia leans down and kisses him, sloppily, just as one last tease to Denmark. Denmark groans in frustration. Russia pulls out, surprisingly careful, and rolls his shoulders before sitting up all the way.
He steps up from the bed, tall, built, towering over Denmark. Denmark can’t decide if he’d rather observe Sweden’s stretched form on the bed, his long, subtle lines of muscle - or Russia - more power in every movement, harder muscles but softer shape overall, a wider jaw and larger hands.
“I have told this to Sweden,” Russia begins - Denmark’s gaze snaps to his, “but you were not there to hear it. I ask that you do not touch my neck. I am not comfortable with it.”
Denmark nods - whatever, who cares, just, please, please, someone touch him already.
“Okay,” Russia nods.
---
So I’ve got a list of kinks a mile long, and I think it kind of shows. *facepalm*
Re: Untitled [8/?]
anonymous
September 19 2010, 17:35:56 UTC
Oh god, Denmark... You and me both. *q* /squirms
I think our lists of kinks are about the same length with about the same content, authornon. I am so, so, so, so looking forward to more. Now if you'll excuse me, I need some alone time with my... thoughts.
Captcha: spillit surely. (Oh, I am SURE that something will be spilled by the end of this fic, Captcha. Probably out of someone's ass and/or mouth.)
Re: Untitled [8/?]
anonymous
September 23 2010, 01:16:44 UTC
I am all over this like something that is all over something so hardcore that it is incoherent and cannot make appropriate similes.
(Also, anon, I really really like that Russia doesn't like people touching his neck and all that. It's a very nice, very believable touch, and I would like to apologize in advance for it worming its way into my headcanon and showing up in my own fills.)
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Denmark is a bit surprised when, seemingly out of nowhere, the slow, heavy kissing and touching he’s watching snaps into something almost animalistic. Sweden wraps one arm around Russia’s waist and pulls him in even closer, chests brushing, while the other reaches up and grabs Russia by the back of the head, pressing their mouths together with a light clack of teeth.
If Russia minds he doesn’t let on - he moves almost into Sweden’s lap, shoves his tongue down Sweden’s throat, runs a hand down chest and abs and hips. He reaches further down and brushes against Sweden’s crotch - Sweden growls at that, flips them into the middle of the bed and grinds down. They stretch out and tangle into one another, gasping - feeling shifting legs and naked skin and searching hands.
They thrust against each other with pants still on, wrapped up - on the bed, Denmark glowers, so far away from his chair - Sweden on top for now. Denmark watches them kiss and it’s deep, harsher - he watches as Russia’s eyebrows furrow the tiniest bit, Sweden’s eyes screw tightly shut, their hands claw everywhere, impatient to explore every inch of exposed skin, thread through hair, occasionally stop and dig nails in.
Russia kisses down Sweden’s jaw and licks down his neck, marking it up over Sweden’s desperate swallows, his continued thrusts. Russia begins shucking off Sweden’s pants, Sweden moans and rubs his thumb harshly along the muscle at the top of Russia’s arm, strokes back and forth, following the prominent line of muscle. Russia pulls Sweden’s pants down as much as he can - Sweden shifts to one arm and uses the other to pull them down further before shimmying out of them. He sits back on his knees and goes to undo Russia’s pants, eyeing the bulge there, and leans down and ghosts his lips along Russia’s stomach and hips as he does.
Russia quickly lifts his hips so that Sweden can pull them down, chest rising and falling rapidly - Denmark eyes Russia’s clothed erection as well. As Sweden moves down, he nips at the top hem of Russia’s underwear - Russia lets out an understated noise of frustration. “Stop this teasing,” he groans, frowning.
All Sweden says in reply is “Hm.” He grunts and sits back up, moves to the side a bit to yank off one leg of Russia’s pant legs, then the other - hasty and awkward. He kneels back over Russia’s thigh - one long, lean leg on one side, one on the other - and leans forward, places his hands around Russia’s hips, digging his thumbs in faintly. Russia retaliates by moving one of those powerful thighs against Sweden’s erection - Sweden grunts and bucks against it before he abruptly straightens out over Russia once again. Their bodies meld together and slide a bit - Denmark sees that a soft sheen of sweat has begun to form on Russia’s torso. Russia’s hand slips on Sweden’s back, Sweden gains a faint flush.
Russia’s hands move up to grip Sweden’s ass - he grinds up against Sweden harshly and bites his lip in one swift, sharp movement. Both let out loud, long moans - Sweden’s eyes shut for a split second.
At that a desperate noise escapes Denmark’s throat and he tries to lurch forward despite the futility of it. Ugh, those sounds. Deep and wanting and obscene.
Russia and Sweden freeze, panting, and they both look over at him with curious gazes. Sweden’s then slides into a tiny smirk - Russia turns his attention to Sweden’s neck - the smirk falters as Russia marks up Sweden’s neck and runs a hand up his back, twisting their legs together.
“I think your Daniya likes watching us,” Russia murmurs against Sweden’s jaw with a chuckle. Denmark inhales sharply at the commentary; hearing it, Russia looks over and quirks an eyebrow. “You did not tell me he liked watching,” he continues, studying Denmark’s response to this even while he reaches an arm between himself and Sweden - he palms Sweden though the boxers and is rewarded with a gruff, muted sound.
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“Daniya,” Russia says, quiet, but dark and forceful. “Will you watch me fellate Shvetsiya? I think I would like to,” he continues over Sweden’s groan and Denmark’s thundering breaths.
Yes, Denmark is sure of it - he will watch with rapt attention if Russia blows Sweden. Especially if he keeps making Sweden make those noises. He nods frantically and makes a muffled noise of agreement through the shirt.
“Or perhaps would you enjoy it just as much if I described it for you,” Russia sneers, even while running a tongue along the line of Sweden’s shoulder. Sweden simply ducks his head in and begins mouthing Russia’s ear, but Denmark shoots him a confused look.
Russia’s eyes shut and his mouth falls open before he turns back to Sweden and cups his jaw, brings them together for another heated kiss - another minute of this, Denmark silently straining against his bindings - just - any friction, please, this was torture - and unable to achieve any relief - Sweden had put rope around his torso, and his legs, but not his lap, damn it - and then Russia pulls away even while wrapping his arms around Sweden’s back, presses them together. Denmark watches their sweaty bodies slide against one another, outline of ribs and muscle moving in shuddering, heaving motions.
“I think,” Russia gasps, looking at Sweden, “that your lover seems to enjoy - what is it - dirty talk?”
At this Denmark shuts his eyes and tries to calm down, or at least relieve some stress by struggling against his bindings, though even that has already proven to be pretty pointless. He’s so aroused - and - fuck - couldn’t they pay just a little attention to him!? Russia makes a pleased noise at his response. Denmark doesn’t see Sweden’s reaction.
Denmark hears them shift and looks up at them - they’re both sitting up on their knees in the middle of the bed, Sweden running teeth and tongue along Russia’s collarbone, punctuating with the occasional kiss, Russia’s hands on Sweden’s hips - both obviously very aroused. Russia brings one hand up to the turn of Sweden’s jaw and runs his nails down the side of Sweden’s neck; they leave faint trails in their wake. Sweden moans and lets out a stuttering breath.
Russia’s attention is taken by Denmark’s louder moan, though. “Ah - perhaps he is just turned on by noise in general,” he announces to both of them. Both Denmark and Sweden nod - Denmark reluctantly, Sweden as one curt, efficient motion of the head, more focused on running his hands up Russia’s sides and biting the join of collarbone and shoulder.
Bringing a hand up to Sweden’s hair, Russia presses him in a little more, then looks at Denmark. “Well,” Russia says, a bit breathless, “that sounds like much fun.” He abruptly presses Sweden down into the mattress below him. “What would you like to see, Daniya?” he asks as he leans down, running his large hands up Sweden’s thighs, and mouths Sweden’s erection through his underwear. Sweden half-shouts at that and Denmark moans long and loud - so loud it is barely muffled.
Russia pulls back up, looks and Denmark, and uses a hand to rub Sweden, roughly. “I could touch him, like this,” he smirks - Denmark’s eyes flicker down - Sweden, panting, sweat running down his temples, legs spread wide, thrusting lightly into that touch, one hand bunched in the quilt on the bed, mouth in a grimace - then back up to Russia’s face.
“Or,” Russia continues, “I could perform oral sex on him -” with this he lifts the hem of Sweden’s boxers, pulls them down past his erection - Denmark stares and swallows audibly.
“If so, how would you like me to?” Russia asks, a soft purr, smirk in his voice. “I could tease him. I could go slowly, and play with him first - and not let him find relief until he makes noise that is to your satisfaction.”
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“I could also take him into my mouth completely,” Russia says, interrupting his thoughts. Denmark looks at Russia again; Russia catches his eye, makes sure he’s looking, before he resumes. “It would be fast and, ah, sloppy? Yes. Much spit and usage of my tongue.”
With those words Sweden swears softly and arches up off the bed a little; Denmark can’t tear his eyes from the sight.
Russia smiles and looks at Sweden as well - frantically rising chest, throat working, glazed eyes trained upon the ceiling.
While Sweden calms down a little, Russia watches Denmark watching the two of them. He really is liking this, isn’t he? Much more than either Sweden or Russia thought he would.
Sweden lets out one loud huff and looks at Russia, gaze serious and heated. Russia meets his eyes - “Fuck me,” Sweden demands. He turns his head to Denmark and growls “Danmark likes t’see me in a submissive p’sition,” with a wry twist of his mouth.
Russia raises his eyebrows and he turns to observe Denmark as well, pulling Sweden close to himself, allowing their erections to brush together, slightly. “This could be arranged. Daniya?”
Denmark can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. Sweden just ordered Russia to fuck him. And Denmark is not opposed to this at all - though it’s true, he likes seeing Sweden in a “submissive position”, he likes it the other way around as well. He knows Sweden knows that - he’s just being a passive-agressive dick, Denmark thinks with a growl.
He recovers and violently nods his approval. They both hastily tug off their underwear and take a moment to observe each other; seeing the undisguised lust on both of their faces makes Denmark’s hard-on throb and his chest constrict. Russia lubes up his fingers and cock - that elicits a small groan - while Sweden lays back on his elbows, breathing still heavy, and watches Russia’s hand stroke up and down. Denmark doesn’t even know where to look, but either sight ensures his erection isn’t going away anytime soon.
Russia carefully puts a slightly shaky hand between Sweden’s legs, and Denmark can’t really see what happens in graphic detail. He doesn’t know whether that is a blessing or a curse. He would love to see, but he didn’t really know if his dick can handle it at this point. Or his brain, for that matter.
Sweden lets out a cut-off hitch of a breath, and Russia clicks his tongue, finger carefully moving in and out, and mutters “You should not hold back. Daniya is aroused by your noises.”
When all that happens is a few breaths that have a little sound behind them, Russia bends down and laps at the head Sweden’s cock, eyes trained on Sweden’s face. A strangled sound is emitted into the air and Sweden’s entire body twitches - unsure as if it should move up into Russia’s hot mouth or down onto Russia’s teasing finger.
Denmark’s muffled, appreciative cursing is almost drowned out by Russia’s chuckle and Sweden’s noise as Russia simultaneously adds another finger and swallows Sweden down a little further. Russia speeds up both movements - Sweden still can’t seem to decide where to move his hips so he arches his back up off the bed instead with a guttural growl - Denmark is just tight, too tight, everywhere - all of his muscles are strained, tight, taut with tension, the air in his chest, his throat - tight - tight breaths - tight pants, but not nearly tight enough - all of those goddamn ropes around him, too tight and still not tight enough. No relief, no relief, and as Russia pulls his hand out and pushes himself in, Sweden lets out a loud groan, wraps a long, slender leg around Russia’s ass, thrusts himself up onto Russia’s erection - ugh, they are both making the most vulgar, amazing noises.
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Russia raises himself up on his arms over Sweden, then uses one arm to swing Sweden’s other leg over a broad shoulder. It’s an awkward position - one leg over Russia’s shoulder, the other around his waist, Sweden’s hips completely raised from the bed - and if it wasn’t for Sweden’s obscenely long legs and their matching heights, it might have been impossible - but apparently it’s a really good one. Sweden inhales sharply, meets Russia’s next thrust violently, then his rumbling shout cuts through the air.
“Yes, I think that is what he wants to hear,” Russia pants, and thrusts even harder into Sweden this time - another growled, choked shout. Denmark agrees, loudly, and twists his jaw, fabric against his teeth being the only useful friction he can access.
An irregular murmur of words begin streaming from Sweden’s mouth, cut off by each hard thrust, the sound low and almost - rasping. He turns his head to the side and stares at Denmark - twitching against the bindings, muscles clenched and defined, sweat running down his body - he looks - fuck -
Sweden brings his hand down to his erection and lightly traces along it, gives a loud moan just for Denmark. At Denmark’s wild jerk and tightened jaw, he throws his head back, baring his neck, opens his mouth, lets his eyes stare, half-lidded.
Russia slows to small, shallow thrusts and follows his gaze. Sends a heated, twisted smile Denmark’s way. “I think we have given him enough of a show, yes?” he breathes, voice a bit husky.
“Prob’ly,” Sweden grunts. He wraps his hand around himself entirely and licks his lips, watches Denmark’s eyes follow his hand - up, down, up - slow strokes, matching Russia’s slow rocking rhythm, his cock hard and heavy under his palm. “Ya gonna play nice?” he asks once Denmark meets his eyes.
Denmark nods yet again and loudly says - well, who knows what it is - into the gag.
Sweden looks up at Russia. Russia leans down and kisses him, sloppily, just as one last tease to Denmark. Denmark groans in frustration. Russia pulls out, surprisingly careful, and rolls his shoulders before sitting up all the way.
He steps up from the bed, tall, built, towering over Denmark. Denmark can’t decide if he’d rather observe Sweden’s stretched form on the bed, his long, subtle lines of muscle - or Russia - more power in every movement, harder muscles but softer shape overall, a wider jaw and larger hands.
“I have told this to Sweden,” Russia begins - Denmark’s gaze snaps to his, “but you were not there to hear it. I ask that you do not touch my neck. I am not comfortable with it.”
Denmark nods - whatever, who cares, just, please, please, someone touch him already.
“Okay,” Russia nods.
---
So I’ve got a list of kinks a mile long, and I think it kind of shows. *facepalm*
---
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Anyway, I shall be here with my sleeping bag and tent waiting for the next update! <3
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I think our lists of kinks are about the same length with about the same content, authornon. I am so, so, so, so looking forward to more. Now if you'll excuse me, I need some alone time with my... thoughts.
Captcha: spillit surely. (Oh, I am SURE that something will be spilled by the end of this fic, Captcha. Probably out of someone's ass and/or mouth.)
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This is so hot I can't even
UPDATE SOON, dear author, I love this fic!
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(Also, anon, I really really like that Russia doesn't like people touching his neck and all that. It's a very nice, very believable touch, and I would like to apologize in advance for it worming its way into my headcanon and showing up in my own fills.)
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Duuuude Russia and his neck issue is kind of fannon in the R/A community. Definitely not my idea. So if it ends up in your fills, heck, have fun! :D
Also also, thanks for commenting! This thing would still be at the 4th part if it weren't for everyone flipping out all over the place on me XD
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