[fanfic] random generator shortfics, hetalia
Prompts/pairings from here
Most of the nations here I had never written before, so please don't kill me? ;;
Pairing: Norway/Netherlands(/Denmark)
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating: R
Warning: implied threesome?
It had been far too long. Ages, in every sense of the word - not only that they had seen each other. Also that they had...
"God-" The Netherlands's breath hitched as his fingers dug deep in the lither nation's shoulders, and Norway knew that there would be red marks in the morning. Knew and didn't care - knew and also knew that Denmark would be hurt at first and then whine all day. Knew that he would be annoying. As usual.
But right now, who cared? While he pulled back and gripped the taller man's hips harder to angle his next trust, a thin lipped smile formed on his lips. It really was big brother's own fault if he did not want in on this. Really, had the nation gone back to being Catholic or pagan, having to sacrifice something before going to war? With Sweden, even-
He got distracted by calloused hands wandering upwards, cupping one cheek, hips bucking up to engulf him again. "Wha' are ye thinkin' about?"
Directing his eyes back at the man under him, Norway swatted the hands away, pinning them down, and ran his tongue over the mainlander's jaw. "Big brother."
The man grunted noncommittally.
"At this rate, he'll never again join us here." If he was going to abstain from any sex for two weeks every time that he planned to fight Sweden, that was. ...Not that Norway minded too much. Without his fellow manly-man-lover around, Netherlands became a just as cuddly bunny under Norway's hands as Denmark did. But as soon as they were together...They probably had to prove something.
Which he did not mind too much. Norway liked it rough. But every one in a while, topping and what was more (and what Denmark would only provide if he had passed out) a silent afterglow were really nice, too.
Pairing: Canada/Bavaria
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: nasty, politically incorrect sibling insult against Gilbert, talk about sex, implied Americest,
The strangest thing about their relationship was definitely the afterglow talk. Not that they hadn't the usual subjects sometimes (like "I love you" and "what was your name, again?". Also Bavaria complaining that he felt like a pedophile and Canada trying to convince him that age didn't matter - which was usually turned down like an insult by the proud nation ("I'm a lot older than that greenhorn Germany") and them compromising on the solution that Canada's age did not matter). But most of the time, it was gossip. Of the most interesting kind: After all, they had both bedded, or been bedded, by quite a lot of nations in their lives.
Like France, of course (he used to be really cute, you know? - You mean there was a time before he had stubble?); or America (I liked him, he had this youthful spirit - and I don't? - well, you do too, but you are a bit beyond your years, sometimes... makes you a lot more reliable, though); or China (and they both agreed that they had never been topped form the bottom this thoroughly China really knew what he did).
And then there were the nations that only one of them had had. Like Rome (he was an old man at that time, but boy, he had a lot of ideas, France and England are NOTHING compared to him) or Prussia (he had great ideas, and he has so much spirit - ugh. I'd never want to even get close to him, such a stuck up prick and now he's just a pathetic freeloader and takes all my money to waste it).
Sometimes Canada wondered what other couples talked about. Because after the first two or three times, they surely ran out of material (in his experience, they tended to forget that he was there and just fall asleep or wander off. But he guessed that that was not really what happened normally). But for him and Bavaria, that could not happen. There just were too many centuries of amorous interactions to ever run out of things to say.
N/A: "pedophile": Bavaria refers to the fact that he is over one millenium older than Canada;
Also a few notes about the people that Bavaria slept with and my reasoning: China: under Stoiber, Bavaria seemed to have a short-lived extreme crush on China; America: Bavaria was the main part of the American sector after WW2 (also the first Bundesland to be re-founded, and one of the few that stayed the way that it was when it was still an independent nation); France: One word. Napoleon. Everyone Germanic was in bed with France back then, one way or the other |D; Rome: Rome left a lot of his blood in today's Bavaria (which is why there are a lot of darker skinned people in Southern Germany)
Pairing: Taiwan/Netherlands
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating: R
Warnings: Lolikon, bloodplay, cunninlingus
It's not that he has always been interested in little girls. Not even that he is interested in every little girl, as they say when he is looking the other way or they consider him too stoned to notice.
It's not that the female that he has been in love with for far too long is anywhere near underage, either.
It's the fact that the time when he first fell for her, head over heels, was too long ago. It is the fact that they always had a tendency to get into the strangest situations.
They first met a few days after he had arrived on the island. After a few days of rest, he had ventured away from the coastline, curious to see more of the place. He had walked for a long time and not found a trace of the nation that surely lived there. When the sun was high in the sky, he decided to rest and laid down, falling asleep with his pipe in hand.
He woke up to the feeling of suffocation. Something heavy rested on his face, covering his mouth, nose and eyes, cutting off his breath and blinding him. Trying to reach up and take it away, he noticed that his hands were bound and panicked, opening his mouth to yell, just for something very, very soft to sink into it for a moment.
Flesh.
And when the something moved, jumped up and away and the panic ebbed away a bit and his vision cleared, he saw what it had been. A child's backside. A girl, clearly, his teeth imprinted in the soft skin just above her right thigh. She stared at him, a huge knife in her hands, and then came back in measured steps, wobbling a bit on her baby legs, and pressed the blade to his chin, drawing a few drops of blood. He could not understand what she said, but right there and then he knew that his human side had a huge, huge problem. A problem a bit bigger than a man's fist. Or rather, that he didn't have it anymore; because she had just stolen his heart.
It had evolved from there.
Evolved to him going down on one knee when the servants were away, parting her robes and kissing her stomach, and then lower, her hipbone and her inner thighs, and then higher again, chapped lips wandering over soft flesh that still had no single hair on it, tongue dipping between the folds that they found there, savoring the taste; and her little hands gripping his hair, trying not to pull and in the end always pulling sometimes hard enough to be left with blond strands to add to her collection afterwards.
Evolved to her running a blade over his stomach, upwards, pressing down just enough to leave a red line on his chest before leaning down and biting, squeezing the already thinned skin until it broke. To her climbing on top of him, tracing the line with her fingers while her little feet were kneading his hot flash further down. To the sharp pain of the blade, the duller pain of the wounds being toyed with and the stimulation of his privates getting him hard and pushing him over the edge much faster and pleasantly than anyone else had ever been able to.
When they parted, he could not forget about her.
And even many years later, he still saw her face on every little girl that he met.
Pairing: Sweden/Japan
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: D/s, though they never get there; but there are mentions of a couple of things. Basically two very quiet nations trying to do the talk before and failing until they find a way. ALSO WW2 Axis uniforms, hence dubious political correctness.
It is awkward, at first. They spend a few ...what should they call it? Dates? It might be the correct word, after all dates often lead up to sex, and should be characterized by mutual respect. Just that they aren't really romantic. Sweden stares at the other nation, going over the carefully prepared sentences and finding that they aren't right, and Japan is not sure how to start at all.
In the end they decide to just start to sleep together, not with each other, but in the same bed, to maybe get rid of the awkwardness that way. It doesn't really help, but Japan finds out that Sweden likes to cuddle that way. And after a while, he gets used to waking up to a human blanket wrapped around him. And Sweden finds out that Japan talks in his sleep. That he talks in his sleep about things that he would not talk about while awake.
Things that they tried to talk about all those times in the restaurant, all those times that they sat together at the kitchen table or laid awake late.
One morning, he decides to use that knowledge."Br'ng yer uniform n'xt t'me."
Japan's hand stops a few inches away from the egg that he was about to take, staring at the other male.
"Th' black one."
The Asian pulls his hand back and joins them in his lap, his gaze level and stoic, only one brow slightly raised.
Sweden winces. He should be used to this by now; Norway and Japan are not that different. But he never tried to have a conversation like this with Norway. He never needed to. After a few too long moments without an answer, he stands up. "C'me."
Japan follows him to the wardrobe in the attic. Someone seems to have moved a couple of things to get to it a while ago. When the European opens the door and pulls a hanger out, the smaller man's breath hitches and he takes an involuntary step forward, his fingers rising to touch the familiar black fabric. There are no skulls on it, but maybe he can add them later... Not that he does not know what they mean. But it just makes the uniform that Sweden holds there even hotter. "Is it...?" an original?
The blond shakes his head, a hint of revulsion and offendedness in his eyes. "Nev'r had one."
"But-"
"Heard y'." He stuffs the bundle of fabric back into the closet and shuts the door, turning to pick up a box at his feet and open the lid to reveal a couple of gags and other things used to restrain a person. His face is flushed deep red, but he plunges forward, knowing that this is a now or never deal. "'s what I 'm fine w'th, now y' pick."
And when the Asian turns his eyes upwards again and nods, relief floods through both of them.
Yes, the most important thing is to talk, talk and talk more. But for them, this is the closest that they can get. And between them, both used to gestures over words, it will be enough.
Pairing: Poland/Cuba
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating: R
Warnings: Sex, drugs, and body hair
"You like", he gasps and trusts up, manicured fingernails raking over darker skin, blond hair taking a darker shade when the carefully tended for strands are thrown back into the mud again and again. "You should, like, totally do that more often."
Cuba grins, a bit dopey, probably smoked a little too much - and lowers himself again, taking him fully. "We should." He's taking it slowly, too slowly for Poland's liking (especially considering that they are in the middle of a banana plantation and someone could run in on them every minute), but how could he not, when the lither nation under him looks this delicious?
He still can't really remember how they got here, somewhere between Spain and Lithuania getting into a discussion about proper parenting, and England crashing the discussion, they had decided to get somewhere more relaxed. Which had led to relaxing substances, which had lead to relaxing methods.
"God-" and here the blond grabbed the other male's hips and forced them to descend on him again, throwing his head to the side and blushing furiously, a deeper shade of red than should be humanly possible.
It seemed as if he had wanted to say something but shied away from it at the last moment. "Yeah?" There was no way. He had to pry.
He had wanted to explain that few men (and women) could take him in fully - the downside of being very well endowed - but that was really nothing that he could say, not even in this situation. He had nearly managed to, but his shyness had hit home a few minutes too early. But there was another thing that had distracted him before, anyway, and distracted him again now.
"You, like, should totally start to shave. Your body hair is, like, totally grody."
Most of the nations here I had never written before, so please don't kill me? ;;
Pairing: Norway/Netherlands(/Denmark)
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating: R
Warning: implied threesome?
It had been far too long. Ages, in every sense of the word - not only that they had seen each other. Also that they had...
"God-" The Netherlands's breath hitched as his fingers dug deep in the lither nation's shoulders, and Norway knew that there would be red marks in the morning. Knew and didn't care - knew and also knew that Denmark would be hurt at first and then whine all day. Knew that he would be annoying. As usual.
But right now, who cared? While he pulled back and gripped the taller man's hips harder to angle his next trust, a thin lipped smile formed on his lips. It really was big brother's own fault if he did not want in on this. Really, had the nation gone back to being Catholic or pagan, having to sacrifice something before going to war? With Sweden, even-
He got distracted by calloused hands wandering upwards, cupping one cheek, hips bucking up to engulf him again. "Wha' are ye thinkin' about?"
Directing his eyes back at the man under him, Norway swatted the hands away, pinning them down, and ran his tongue over the mainlander's jaw. "Big brother."
The man grunted noncommittally.
"At this rate, he'll never again join us here." If he was going to abstain from any sex for two weeks every time that he planned to fight Sweden, that was. ...Not that Norway minded too much. Without his fellow manly-man-lover around, Netherlands became a just as cuddly bunny under Norway's hands as Denmark did. But as soon as they were together...They probably had to prove something.
Which he did not mind too much. Norway liked it rough. But every one in a while, topping and what was more (and what Denmark would only provide if he had passed out) a silent afterglow were really nice, too.
Pairing: Canada/Bavaria
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: nasty, politically incorrect sibling insult against Gilbert, talk about sex, implied Americest,
The strangest thing about their relationship was definitely the afterglow talk. Not that they hadn't the usual subjects sometimes (like "I love you" and "what was your name, again?". Also Bavaria complaining that he felt like a pedophile and Canada trying to convince him that age didn't matter - which was usually turned down like an insult by the proud nation ("I'm a lot older than that greenhorn Germany") and them compromising on the solution that Canada's age did not matter). But most of the time, it was gossip. Of the most interesting kind: After all, they had both bedded, or been bedded, by quite a lot of nations in their lives.
Like France, of course (he used to be really cute, you know? - You mean there was a time before he had stubble?); or America (I liked him, he had this youthful spirit - and I don't? - well, you do too, but you are a bit beyond your years, sometimes... makes you a lot more reliable, though); or China (and they both agreed that they had never been topped form the bottom this thoroughly China really knew what he did).
And then there were the nations that only one of them had had. Like Rome (he was an old man at that time, but boy, he had a lot of ideas, France and England are NOTHING compared to him) or Prussia (he had great ideas, and he has so much spirit - ugh. I'd never want to even get close to him, such a stuck up prick and now he's just a pathetic freeloader and takes all my money to waste it).
Sometimes Canada wondered what other couples talked about. Because after the first two or three times, they surely ran out of material (in his experience, they tended to forget that he was there and just fall asleep or wander off. But he guessed that that was not really what happened normally). But for him and Bavaria, that could not happen. There just were too many centuries of amorous interactions to ever run out of things to say.
N/A: "pedophile": Bavaria refers to the fact that he is over one millenium older than Canada;
Also a few notes about the people that Bavaria slept with and my reasoning: China: under Stoiber, Bavaria seemed to have a short-lived extreme crush on China; America: Bavaria was the main part of the American sector after WW2 (also the first Bundesland to be re-founded, and one of the few that stayed the way that it was when it was still an independent nation); France: One word. Napoleon. Everyone Germanic was in bed with France back then, one way or the other |D; Rome: Rome left a lot of his blood in today's Bavaria (which is why there are a lot of darker skinned people in Southern Germany)
Pairing: Taiwan/Netherlands
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating: R
Warnings: Lolikon, bloodplay, cunninlingus
It's not that he has always been interested in little girls. Not even that he is interested in every little girl, as they say when he is looking the other way or they consider him too stoned to notice.
It's not that the female that he has been in love with for far too long is anywhere near underage, either.
It's the fact that the time when he first fell for her, head over heels, was too long ago. It is the fact that they always had a tendency to get into the strangest situations.
They first met a few days after he had arrived on the island. After a few days of rest, he had ventured away from the coastline, curious to see more of the place. He had walked for a long time and not found a trace of the nation that surely lived there. When the sun was high in the sky, he decided to rest and laid down, falling asleep with his pipe in hand.
He woke up to the feeling of suffocation. Something heavy rested on his face, covering his mouth, nose and eyes, cutting off his breath and blinding him. Trying to reach up and take it away, he noticed that his hands were bound and panicked, opening his mouth to yell, just for something very, very soft to sink into it for a moment.
Flesh.
And when the something moved, jumped up and away and the panic ebbed away a bit and his vision cleared, he saw what it had been. A child's backside. A girl, clearly, his teeth imprinted in the soft skin just above her right thigh. She stared at him, a huge knife in her hands, and then came back in measured steps, wobbling a bit on her baby legs, and pressed the blade to his chin, drawing a few drops of blood. He could not understand what she said, but right there and then he knew that his human side had a huge, huge problem. A problem a bit bigger than a man's fist. Or rather, that he didn't have it anymore; because she had just stolen his heart.
It had evolved from there.
Evolved to him going down on one knee when the servants were away, parting her robes and kissing her stomach, and then lower, her hipbone and her inner thighs, and then higher again, chapped lips wandering over soft flesh that still had no single hair on it, tongue dipping between the folds that they found there, savoring the taste; and her little hands gripping his hair, trying not to pull and in the end always pulling sometimes hard enough to be left with blond strands to add to her collection afterwards.
Evolved to her running a blade over his stomach, upwards, pressing down just enough to leave a red line on his chest before leaning down and biting, squeezing the already thinned skin until it broke. To her climbing on top of him, tracing the line with her fingers while her little feet were kneading his hot flash further down. To the sharp pain of the blade, the duller pain of the wounds being toyed with and the stimulation of his privates getting him hard and pushing him over the edge much faster and pleasantly than anyone else had ever been able to.
When they parted, he could not forget about her.
And even many years later, he still saw her face on every little girl that he met.
Pairing: Sweden/Japan
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: D/s, though they never get there; but there are mentions of a couple of things. Basically two very quiet nations trying to do the talk before and failing until they find a way. ALSO WW2 Axis uniforms, hence dubious political correctness.
It is awkward, at first. They spend a few ...what should they call it? Dates? It might be the correct word, after all dates often lead up to sex, and should be characterized by mutual respect. Just that they aren't really romantic. Sweden stares at the other nation, going over the carefully prepared sentences and finding that they aren't right, and Japan is not sure how to start at all.
In the end they decide to just start to sleep together, not with each other, but in the same bed, to maybe get rid of the awkwardness that way. It doesn't really help, but Japan finds out that Sweden likes to cuddle that way. And after a while, he gets used to waking up to a human blanket wrapped around him. And Sweden finds out that Japan talks in his sleep. That he talks in his sleep about things that he would not talk about while awake.
Things that they tried to talk about all those times in the restaurant, all those times that they sat together at the kitchen table or laid awake late.
One morning, he decides to use that knowledge."Br'ng yer uniform n'xt t'me."
Japan's hand stops a few inches away from the egg that he was about to take, staring at the other male.
"Th' black one."
The Asian pulls his hand back and joins them in his lap, his gaze level and stoic, only one brow slightly raised.
Sweden winces. He should be used to this by now; Norway and Japan are not that different. But he never tried to have a conversation like this with Norway. He never needed to. After a few too long moments without an answer, he stands up. "C'me."
Japan follows him to the wardrobe in the attic. Someone seems to have moved a couple of things to get to it a while ago. When the European opens the door and pulls a hanger out, the smaller man's breath hitches and he takes an involuntary step forward, his fingers rising to touch the familiar black fabric. There are no skulls on it, but maybe he can add them later... Not that he does not know what they mean. But it just makes the uniform that Sweden holds there even hotter. "Is it...?" an original?
The blond shakes his head, a hint of revulsion and offendedness in his eyes. "Nev'r had one."
"But-"
"Heard y'." He stuffs the bundle of fabric back into the closet and shuts the door, turning to pick up a box at his feet and open the lid to reveal a couple of gags and other things used to restrain a person. His face is flushed deep red, but he plunges forward, knowing that this is a now or never deal. "'s what I 'm fine w'th, now y' pick."
And when the Asian turns his eyes upwards again and nods, relief floods through both of them.
Yes, the most important thing is to talk, talk and talk more. But for them, this is the closest that they can get. And between them, both used to gestures over words, it will be enough.
Pairing: Poland/Cuba
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating: R
Warnings: Sex, drugs, and body hair
"You like", he gasps and trusts up, manicured fingernails raking over darker skin, blond hair taking a darker shade when the carefully tended for strands are thrown back into the mud again and again. "You should, like, totally do that more often."
Cuba grins, a bit dopey, probably smoked a little too much - and lowers himself again, taking him fully. "We should." He's taking it slowly, too slowly for Poland's liking (especially considering that they are in the middle of a banana plantation and someone could run in on them every minute), but how could he not, when the lither nation under him looks this delicious?
He still can't really remember how they got here, somewhere between Spain and Lithuania getting into a discussion about proper parenting, and England crashing the discussion, they had decided to get somewhere more relaxed. Which had led to relaxing substances, which had lead to relaxing methods.
"God-" and here the blond grabbed the other male's hips and forced them to descend on him again, throwing his head to the side and blushing furiously, a deeper shade of red than should be humanly possible.
It seemed as if he had wanted to say something but shied away from it at the last moment. "Yeah?" There was no way. He had to pry.
He had wanted to explain that few men (and women) could take him in fully - the downside of being very well endowed - but that was really nothing that he could say, not even in this situation. He had nearly managed to, but his shyness had hit home a few minutes too early. But there was another thing that had distracted him before, anyway, and distracted him again now.
"You, like, should totally start to shave. Your body hair is, like, totally grody."