aphanon_meme | Part 12 is the loneliest number you could ever do

Woah, did Part 11 seem to end without warning, or was it just me?

The challenge is extended until Part 14 maxes, then a poll will be going up! Thanks for being patient, people who have already entered! :)

edit, 5/28:
The journal has been marked for possible adult content.

edit, 5/27:
And, I guess this needs to be said again:

This is a place where you can post and say whatever you feel that you cannot say openly in this fandom and its communities. You want to fangirl someone, bash a fic/art/pairing or talk about how much something pisses you off? Go ahead. Wank and vent and fangirl to your hearts content, no holds barred, no rules. Say what you want, when you want.

--
Da Rules:
*No image bombing.

Da Notes:
*If you're feeling down, make sure to get help, and refer to links on previous parts if you need them.
*If you don't know how to post images while anon, refer to this comment. Make sure to follow the directions on that comment as well!

And also:
*Posting on this meme, logged in or not, is opening you up and taking the risk for positive and negative comments. If you can't handle that response to your logged in comments, I'd suggest posting anon and not drawing attention to yourself.
*What you say is what you say, so please make sure you want to say it. Except for special cases (that hopefully will not come up) I won't be deleting or screening comments.
*This is a NSFW space. Warnings are not required.
-Feel free to comment or message me with any questions/concerns.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm SO tempted to fill this, but I'm not sure what female nation to use.

I can really see Hungary for some reason. She seems to be the only one who could out-crazy him.

Anon's thoughts?

Do it. Hungary included.

YES.
Do it with Hungary. I'd so ship it.
Hell, now I do ship it.

denmark/hungary do want ♥

ie: do it do it do iiiit.

Definitely Hungary. I'd help you, but my fic writing skills are a bit rusty, orz.

Denmark was bored. B-O-R-E-D, bored. He idly tapped his pen against the polished wooden desk in front of him, leaning back with an arm over the back of his chair as he did so. Why did these meetings have to be long? He didn’t care, they were discussing the exact same things they’d discussed last time!

Nothing had changed, it rarely did, so he saw little to no point in these meetings other than an opportunity to get together and rant more than anything. Currently Italy was talking about how pasta could be used to solve the growing obesity crisis, flapping his arms around animatedly as he did so, causing Denmark to tap his pen just that bit harder in annoyance.

He vaguely registered that he must have gotten quite loud with it somewhere down the line when he suddenly saw Sweden’s arm rush out to snatch the pen from his fingers. Denmark sighed and leaned back, shifting his weight from one side to another.

Denmark hated the seats, they didn’t twirl and they didn’t have wheels either, so he was firmly stuck where he was for another hour. He brought his hands up and behind his head to rest on and began surveying the room. To his left Sweden was whispering heatedly to Finland and to his right Norway and Iceland looked just about as bored as he did.

Denmark groaned and flopped down onto the desk, arms folded with his head resting on top, pouting at anyone who looked at him. Eyes continued scanning the room, this time those straight ahead of him. The German brothers, Germany and Prussia, and to their left Austria and… Hungary.

Denmark felt a familiar goofy grin tug at his lips, now there was a babe! He’d noticed her outside; dressed in a knee length skirt and a shirt that hugged her breasts and flared out at her midsection, she wore no tights and was wearing a pair of smart black heels, while her hair was pinned up and fell back over her neck and went to her shoulders. His tongue involuntarily shot out to lick at his lips; maybe this meeting wouldn’t be so bad after all.

He’d been watching her for maybe an hour now? He’d lost count somewhere between her crossing and uncrossing her legs while he prayed for a panty shot. When she leaned forward Denmark could see just a hint of a bra strap, black with a blue ribbon and could see the lines of her collar bone easily.

He found himself urged, lost in his own thoughts, to bite and nip at the bones; to grip at her hips and hold her down while he made his mark across the pale skin. Denmark caught a groan in his throat as his eyes travelled up and down her legs, thin and smooth with hidden muscle underneath; Warrior legs. He wondered what it would feel like to have them wrapped around his body and his mind gave him a pretty decent idea. He bombarded his own imagination with images of them wrapped tightly around his waist, clenching and tightening against him as he took her.

He began to grow more vivid; imagining how she would feel trapped under his much taller body, how he would feel watching her squirm and flush as his hands would knead he breasts and pull at her nipples under the fabric of her shirt, how he’d feel the nubs hardening under his rough touch and how she’d gasp in pleasure as he did so.

Green eyes hazed over in lust as he made her beg him to take her, how her soft hands would wrap around his length and stroke him to life. He’d tease her, slip his fingers along her slit, relishing in the burning wetness he’d cause. Catch her when her legs gave way and take her, rough and fast. Grip at her hips until they bruised as he drove dick inside of her, making her wail in ecstasy.

He wanted to bite, bruise and mark her. Take her roughly until she cried out from the pleasure, take her to the very edge and hold her there until she begged to be pushed. Denmark felt himself stirring, it was inventible really, and who wouldn’t be turned on at the images present in his mind? After all, he was a Viking, and Vikings enjoyed nothing more than to fuck beautiful women.

And then he heard it, that voice… that mocking little voice that niggled and mocked him, urging him to take part in his most secret of desire; That voice that told him to kill, to pillage, burn things and terrorize… his Viking side.

It was a joke to everyone else, when he said he had a little devil that urged him on, but he was serious. He was always there, low and rumbling and urging him to revert. Regaling him with memories of ‘the good old days’, of who he was… what he was; The bloodthirsty warrior who took what he wanted and cut down anyone who had dared to stand in his way.

He buried his head in his hands and shook his head to will it away.

Take her.

‘No!’

It laughed at him, just look at her, she’s begging for you. Remember how it was? How it could be? Drag her onto on her back make her scream. Beg.

‘No.’
The voice cackled, he could feel himself crumbling, it was louder than ever. Urging, giving him images of a naked and flushed Hungary crying out and aimlessly grasping at the floor beneath her as he his length plunged into her. Denmark’s hair was a mess, the carefully arranged locks falling into disarray as he attempted to shake it away.

His eyes forced themselves up to take her in again, drink in the beauty that was Hungary. He was hard, painfully so. He could feel his length pressing urgently against the fabric of his pants, begging to be freed, to be taken care of. And oh God, she was sucking on a pen.

It was an innocent gesture Denmark reminded himself as he threw his head back into his arms again, body beginning to shake as he struggled to control himself.

Imagine how it feels, that tongue around your dick. You can plunge that hot mouth with your own, crack and make her lips swell with blood.

Denmark didn’t protest.

Take her. Fill her. Show her what a real man feels like. She’s yours. Take what belongs to you.

Denmark felt the last of his will slip away and his shaking stop and he could hear the voice laughing loudly in his head, full of malice and madness.

She’s yours. Yours only. Yours to take, touch and plunder. No one else’s. TAKE IT.

Denmark lifted his head from his arms and looked straight across at her, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. Nobody was looking, nobody knew it was happening, nobody could stop it. His brothers, companions and friends for so many years didn’t witness his failed fight.

No one noticed the sparkling blue eyes had darkened, that his grin had curled into something feral… canines looking much more prominent than usual. And that grin promised something more than the regular foolery it held…

__

Idk, keep going? What do you think so far :/

I like it. Don't know much about the Vikings, so I won't comment on whether it's accurate or not (I assume it is.) It's hot so far, though. I think you've got it.

while her hair was pinned up and fell back over her neck and went to her shoulders
This was the only thing that read awkwardly to me. Because if it's pinned up...how does it go to her shoulders?

Also, is Austria gonna notice the staring? Hmmm.

Part 12 is the loneliest number you could ever do

http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/6850.html?thread=10900930#t10900930

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IF YOU'RE STILL HERE ANONS: A Rough Draft? [1/2

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