(no subject)
Title: Watching
Author/Artist: dappledwings
Character(s) or Pairing(s): England
Rating: NC-17, I guess. Or R.
Warnings: Completely unbeta'd mini porn fic. Has no plot. Contains... Porn~!
Summary: Hong Kong watches Belarus. The prompt was Belarus/Hong Kong- Voyeurism and weapon fetishization. I'm not sure if I've managed the second one really.
Words: 735
There is a rustle of fabric, and the sigh of someone who feels more than a little relieved. Hong Kong shifts uncomfortably from where he watches, through the crack in the door, at the nation whose blonde hair fans around her right now. He knows those purple-blue eyes will have slid shut, he just knows as her body arches the smallest amount off the bed, straight down into her hand.
And then what he has been waiting for. That knife slides from it’s casings in Belarus’ garter. She runs it slowly across her body, just the flat of the blade. She pays due attention to each nipple with it, running her tongue across it before pressing it back to her nipples. Even though she still has her dress on, Hong Kong can imagine the small pink buds standing to attention in the slightly chilled air. Just the sheer sight of her pressing that blade to her body is having him weak at the knees, let alone the images that are assaulting his mind.
He doesn’t give in to the urges that press and tug at his trousers yet though. He watches more. Watches the breath speed up as her fingers move just the tiniest bit faster. Natalia has great self-control for one in that position, Hong Kong observes.
If it wasn’t so entrancing, Hong Kong would be worried that Belarus is not being satisfied by him. But he understands this need for the perfect attentions of that shining blade. And he watches it, wherever it trails. When it reaches her neck, tip starting to tickle her skin, Hong Kong tries to memorise those places. Not that he doesn’t already know them, quite familiar to him already as those points that make her gasp. Like she does now, pressing her fingers in deeper, as deep as she can manage, with her small hands.
He is suddenly aware of those cold eyes watching him, even as he reaches for his own arousal. He knows that Belarus is aware of his awareness. She can see it in the way he tenses. And, unlike most, she has a talent for reading people, except, perhaps, her Brother. Hong Kong turns his face up to meet her eyes, can see the invitation radiating from her, in the way her eyes are heavily lidded, the way her mouth upturns just the slightest, and the way that her head is tilted almost coquettishly.
Hong Kong was never one to turn down an invitation, especially not of this nature. It would be considered rude, by all means, to turn an invitation down. The door creaks open a little more, so he can slip through. Then, it clicks behind him as he closes it. The sound is a reassuring, so he knows nobody will watch them. As much as he likes to watch, he would not appreciate anyone else doing so.
There is a moment where they stop moving, stop breathing. They look at each other, do not move a muscle. Then Hong Kong carefully slips his fingers into Belarus, marvels at the ach of her body, the hitch in her breath. The blade comes up to trace a line down Hong Kong’s face, but he isn’t scared. He trusts Belarus, trusts her to be careful. When the very tip taps his lips, he opens his mouth obediently, worshipping it with his tongue, being oh so careful not to catch his tongue with the sharp edge. While Belarus focuses on what that blade does, the other hand tugging on her nipples, Hong Kong jerks himself off, efficiently and quickly. The other hand remains stimulating her, pushing and scissoring and trying to bring her as close as possible to climax. When she does, the look on her face, that usually so stoic, emotionless face, is more than Hong Kong can bear, and he finishes with a yelp. The blade slips, cuts his tongue, but that’s ok, because it is Belarus on the other end of the knife and he is not scarred forever anyway.
Together, they collapse to the bed, but Hong Kong leaves as soon as his feet can take his body away. She started it alone, she must clean up alone. Hong Kong slips into the guest bed, feeling slightly alarmed when Belarus slips in with him, quiet as ever. They do not say anything, and the torrent of sleep takes Hong Kong away.
Author/Artist: dappledwings
Character(s) or Pairing(s): England
Rating: NC-17, I guess. Or R.
Warnings: Completely unbeta'd mini porn fic. Has no plot. Contains... Porn~!
Summary: Hong Kong watches Belarus. The prompt was Belarus/Hong Kong- Voyeurism and weapon fetishization. I'm not sure if I've managed the second one really.
Words: 735
There is a rustle of fabric, and the sigh of someone who feels more than a little relieved. Hong Kong shifts uncomfortably from where he watches, through the crack in the door, at the nation whose blonde hair fans around her right now. He knows those purple-blue eyes will have slid shut, he just knows as her body arches the smallest amount off the bed, straight down into her hand.
And then what he has been waiting for. That knife slides from it’s casings in Belarus’ garter. She runs it slowly across her body, just the flat of the blade. She pays due attention to each nipple with it, running her tongue across it before pressing it back to her nipples. Even though she still has her dress on, Hong Kong can imagine the small pink buds standing to attention in the slightly chilled air. Just the sheer sight of her pressing that blade to her body is having him weak at the knees, let alone the images that are assaulting his mind.
He doesn’t give in to the urges that press and tug at his trousers yet though. He watches more. Watches the breath speed up as her fingers move just the tiniest bit faster. Natalia has great self-control for one in that position, Hong Kong observes.
If it wasn’t so entrancing, Hong Kong would be worried that Belarus is not being satisfied by him. But he understands this need for the perfect attentions of that shining blade. And he watches it, wherever it trails. When it reaches her neck, tip starting to tickle her skin, Hong Kong tries to memorise those places. Not that he doesn’t already know them, quite familiar to him already as those points that make her gasp. Like she does now, pressing her fingers in deeper, as deep as she can manage, with her small hands.
He is suddenly aware of those cold eyes watching him, even as he reaches for his own arousal. He knows that Belarus is aware of his awareness. She can see it in the way he tenses. And, unlike most, she has a talent for reading people, except, perhaps, her Brother. Hong Kong turns his face up to meet her eyes, can see the invitation radiating from her, in the way her eyes are heavily lidded, the way her mouth upturns just the slightest, and the way that her head is tilted almost coquettishly.
Hong Kong was never one to turn down an invitation, especially not of this nature. It would be considered rude, by all means, to turn an invitation down. The door creaks open a little more, so he can slip through. Then, it clicks behind him as he closes it. The sound is a reassuring, so he knows nobody will watch them. As much as he likes to watch, he would not appreciate anyone else doing so.
There is a moment where they stop moving, stop breathing. They look at each other, do not move a muscle. Then Hong Kong carefully slips his fingers into Belarus, marvels at the ach of her body, the hitch in her breath. The blade comes up to trace a line down Hong Kong’s face, but he isn’t scared. He trusts Belarus, trusts her to be careful. When the very tip taps his lips, he opens his mouth obediently, worshipping it with his tongue, being oh so careful not to catch his tongue with the sharp edge. While Belarus focuses on what that blade does, the other hand tugging on her nipples, Hong Kong jerks himself off, efficiently and quickly. The other hand remains stimulating her, pushing and scissoring and trying to bring her as close as possible to climax. When she does, the look on her face, that usually so stoic, emotionless face, is more than Hong Kong can bear, and he finishes with a yelp. The blade slips, cuts his tongue, but that’s ok, because it is Belarus on the other end of the knife and he is not scarred forever anyway.
Together, they collapse to the bed, but Hong Kong leaves as soon as his feet can take his body away. She started it alone, she must clean up alone. Hong Kong slips into the guest bed, feeling slightly alarmed when Belarus slips in with him, quiet as ever. They do not say anything, and the torrent of sleep takes Hong Kong away.