[Fic] The Shoes
Title: The Shoes
Author/Artist: dappledwings
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Iceland/Poland
Rating: G
Warnings: Unbeta'd drabblefic.
Summary: For the chat, based on the prompt Iceland/Poland-Toughness and Dominance&Submission.
Words: 283
Poland is staring at some absolutely gorgeous shoes again. They shine like glittering diamonds, the patent leather polished to absolute perfection. And he wants them, never mind that their beauty should really be eclipsed by the many pairs he already owns, but there is something exciting about new shoes.
“Come on, Feliks, you don’t need any more shoes.” Iceland is trying to stop him, trying to stop his happiness. Would Iceland ever say no to a black diamond? Poland sincerely thinks not, which is why he is trying to shake Iceland off to get the shoes.
“Like, why don’t you totally go get a coffee? I’ll be back in a minute, I just need to… to go to the toilet! I’ll only be, like, a minute.” Poland is almost begging in his voice, which is how Iceland knows exactly what will happen if he leaves Poland to his own devices.
“How strange, I need the toilet as well. I’ll come with you.” Poland almost sobs with frustration; he just wishes that hard that he could have those shoes. The utterly perfect, black patent leather shoes, with the beautiful red undersides and heels.
Iceland keeps his eye on Poland, as he escorts the man to the toilets. The way the Polish man fixated on those shoes is an alien concept to him, the way he seems to be plotting in his head how to get round Iceland when all he has to do is ask. All he has to do is say he wants it. And maybe beg along the way.
When they part, Iceland can tell that Poland’s mind is still on the shoes. “Next time I control the shopping,” Poland tells Iceland.
Author/Artist: dappledwings
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Iceland/Poland
Rating: G
Warnings: Unbeta'd drabblefic.
Summary: For the chat, based on the prompt Iceland/Poland-Toughness and Dominance&Submission.
Words: 283
Poland is staring at some absolutely gorgeous shoes again. They shine like glittering diamonds, the patent leather polished to absolute perfection. And he wants them, never mind that their beauty should really be eclipsed by the many pairs he already owns, but there is something exciting about new shoes.
“Come on, Feliks, you don’t need any more shoes.” Iceland is trying to stop him, trying to stop his happiness. Would Iceland ever say no to a black diamond? Poland sincerely thinks not, which is why he is trying to shake Iceland off to get the shoes.
“Like, why don’t you totally go get a coffee? I’ll be back in a minute, I just need to… to go to the toilet! I’ll only be, like, a minute.” Poland is almost begging in his voice, which is how Iceland knows exactly what will happen if he leaves Poland to his own devices.
“How strange, I need the toilet as well. I’ll come with you.” Poland almost sobs with frustration; he just wishes that hard that he could have those shoes. The utterly perfect, black patent leather shoes, with the beautiful red undersides and heels.
Iceland keeps his eye on Poland, as he escorts the man to the toilets. The way the Polish man fixated on those shoes is an alien concept to him, the way he seems to be plotting in his head how to get round Iceland when all he has to do is ask. All he has to do is say he wants it. And maybe beg along the way.
When they part, Iceland can tell that Poland’s mind is still on the shoes. “Next time I control the shopping,” Poland tells Iceland.