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silverfoxflowerTitle: The Ways We Play
Fandom: Hetalia
Genre: Slash, PWP
Word Count: ~1800
Pairing: Prussia/Estonia
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Fucking machine
Notes: Written for this prompt on the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hetalia_kink meme. Fills the 'Fucking Machines' square of my ![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif?v=3)
kink_bingo.
Summary: Estonia builds a fucking machine for Prussia. Then they test it out.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
“Twelve centimeters?” Prussia looked genuinely confused.
“What? That’s a reasonably sized penis!” Estonia didn’t realize he sounded defensive until Prussia glanced at him so pityingly that he sighed and unscrewed the black (reasonably-sized!) plastic phallus from the business end of The Machine.
“Where’d you even find something this small?” Prussia snorted, swiping the dildo from Estonia’s hand, earning a scowl as he began tossing it from hand to hand. “Someone fuck me with something this tiny, I’d probably roll over and go to sleep.”
Estonia began developing a twitch under his left eye, which was always a signal that he should count backwards from ten and unclench his jaw before he ground his fillings into expensive silver saliva.
Prussia, his sometimes friend and lover, had moments that were purely infuriating. At least he looked cute in his porn star bathrobe. The one he had exited his house wearing, yelling loudly back to his brother that he was going out to get fucked by Estonia’s machine, and to make Bamberger Krautbraten for dinner, bitte.
“Alright, how’d you want me?” Prussia threw off his robe suddenly, rubbing his hands together.
Estonia, long used to sudden nakedness, raised one eyebrow in reply. “On the cot, Prussia.”
They had worked this out earlier, over the phone, and afterwards Estonia adjusted the pedestal of The Machine to a specific height and positioned it at the edge of an old cot he had dug out of the garage. It was from World War Two, but sturdy enough. He hoped. Better than getting Prussian body fluids and machine oil all over his own bed.
“It’s itchy!” Prussia whined, squirming on the narrow cot without an ounce of shame as his genitals bounced around between his spread thighs.
“Deal. It was your choice to come here without any decent clothes.” Estonia turned on the machine experimentally, stumbling back a few steps as the empty, thrusting metal arm aimed directly for his face. He pushed up his glasses and walked around the edge of the cot, tugging Prussia into position so that Estonia could tie down his biceps and wrists to the edges of the cot.
“I know you mentioned this over the phone, but I wasn’t listening. Why the bondage, again?” Prussia flexed experimentally. “If it’s the extra kink factor, just let me know, I’m not begrudging you.”
“You squirm. It’s even worse when you’re getting fucked.” Estonia blew a strand of hair off of his face. “I don’t want you to flip yourself off the cot.”
“Aw.” Prussia smirked upwards, nuzzling his nose into Estonia’s shoulder. “You do care!”
If he were Austria or Hungary, England or Romano or any of Prussia’s other lovers who were ashamed of his existence, Estonia might have denied that statement. As was, he merely rested a hand on Prussia’s forehead and smiled. “Just please don’t bleed. I like this carpet.”
“I know that’s not as ominous as you make it sound!” Prussia called after Estonia as he tinkered a bit with The Machine until it was fucking the air happily. “Oh fuck, I almost forgot.” Prussia gestured with his head to the black backpack he had brought along. “Get the dildo. I brought my own.”
Muttering something about “reasonable sizes”, Estonia unzipped Prussia’s bag and rooted around until he took out what looked like a red, black and yellow silicone penis. It sparkled.
Estonia blinked.
“Speechless in the face of awesome, yeah?” Prussia nodded slowly from the cot, his grin so wide it could only be described as shit-eating. “Take a good look ‘cause that, baby, is the famous five meters.”
“You made a model of your own cock. So you can get fucked … by yourself.” Estonia suddenly felt like the straight man in a joke he still didn’t understand.
“Fuck, yeah!” Prussia squirmed into position, opening his thighs unnecessarily wide and completely without shame. His skin was milky-white, crossed with light pink scars. Even his leg hair was pale and almost invisible.
Estonia’s mouth watered at the thought of nibbling his way up Prussia’s perfect legs, savoring those gorgeous scars with his tongue. But he would have to wait for that, until Prussia was so fucked-out he couldn’t mock Estonia for his sentimentality. With a suppressed sigh, Estonia tugged The Machine into place. There was a note of finality to the metallic clank as the arm drive bumped against the frame of the cot.
“Okay,” Estonia leaned over Prussia and pushed the hair out of his face. “You’ve stretched-“
“Duh, baby, of course! Let’s get this junk in my trunk!”
“Idiot,” Estonia tugged a small bottle of lube from his back pocket and snapped on a glove before squirting some onto his fingers. “You always underprep.”
It felt like the tenderest moment they had shared all afternoon when Estonia bent down and pressed two fingers into Prussia’s ass, opening him gently as he admonished that on no certain terms was Prussia to do anything idiotic. If it hurt or felt wrong in any way just tell him for God’s sake. Prussia just nodded and moaned, always a slut for fingers.
“Alright.” Estonia stepped away, tugging off his glove and throwing it away. He tried not to feel nervous as he reached down and guided the head of the dildo into Prussia’s stretched ass. It was a beautiful, arousing picture, but Estonia knew he couldn’t enjoy a minute of it unless Prussia was gaining pleasure as well.
“Let’s start this motherfucker!” Prussia cackled, and Estonia twisted the dial to the lowest setting.
An unnatural buzz filled the room, trembled under Estonia’s skin as the plastic cock began to push into Prussia’s ass. Despite his earlier reluctance to become aroused alone, Estonia could not tear his eyes away as the dildo steadily disappeared inch by garish inch.
Prussia panted, squirmed as far as the bonds allowed, and grew half-hard.
“How is it, are you okay?” Estonia glanced fearfully at his face.
“Sure,” His laugh was a bit weak. “Weird, but okay. Shit,” He craned his neck, trying to catch the right angle to see. “I’m really big.”
Estonia felt relieved. Prussia was up to cracking jokes, at least.
He dialed the machine up a notch, one hand resting protectively on its vibrating frame. The dildo drew half out of Prussia’s ass, glistening with lube, then pushed in again at the same, swinging pace. Prussia began making soft little sounds as he hooked his ankles under the frame of the cot and took the leisurely fuck.
“Faster,” He licked his lips, his skin misted with sweat.
Estonia looked at Prussia’s still-flaccid penis and worried, but shifted the dial again, breathing deeply to clear his head. Strange, the girls in the videos he had watched gave him no rise, but when it came to Prussia, every little sound and detail became wank material. Determined to distract himself, Estonia stroked along the metal body of The Machine, making sure it was warm but not overheated. The piston was relentless. Perfectly measured movements driving steadily into Prussia’s shaking hips.
“I’m stopping this.” Estonia hurriedly flipped the red switch he had installed just for this purpose. The noise The Machine made as it wound down sounded uncannily like disappointment, with a touch of slick squishing due to the lube.
“It’s fine, I’m telling you!” Prussia huffed, and as he craned his neck, Estonia could see his deep flush, the white-blonde hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. “I’m still trying to get used to it!”
“It’s at the wrong angle.” Estonia seemed angry at himself.
“How’d you know?” Prussia flushed even redder, easy to tell on his pale skin.
“After all this time, you still don’t think I know where your prostate is?” Estonia made a mental note to his designs. It had to be easier to adjust the angle of the thrusts. As of now, it took a screwdriver and a few pointers from Prussia until Estonia was assured that he was completely satisfied. And it might have been a sign of progress, or maybe just desensitization, but Estonia didn’t even freak out that much when he got lube all over his bare fingers.
Motor oil, semen, sweat and lube. He’d told Prussia the four problems he had with his fantasy from day one, and Prussia had laughed it off, calling him OCD. Far from the most sensitive in the world, his Prussia. Still, after compromises were made, Estonia found that he actually started enjoying (the idea, at least) of The Machine. Something to give Prussia what he wanted, while Estonia could stand back, fully clothed and dignified. So even though he knew Prussia only came to him because of his technical expertise and willingness to try anything where Prussia was concerned, Estonia couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit grateful.
“Better?” Estonia asked as he slid the reangled dildo into Prussia’s slick hole.
“Fuck!” Prussia closed his eyes and arched his head back into the edge of the cot. Immediately, Estonia moved to flip the switch again. “No!” Prussia cracked open an eye, suddenly panting for all the right reasons. “No, I mean, it’s good, it’s perfect.”
He swore again when Estonia turned it on, throwing his head back on the bed and trying his damndest to arch his body and fuck his hips down onto the pistoning machine.
“Fuck, yeah, yeah,” Prussia chanted, out of breath with moaning and laughter. His cock hardened and darkened into a quivering red, bobbing up with every thrust and dripping precome all over his abs.
Years later, Estonia would still remember this and not even feel all that guilty for jacking himself to the images of Prussia’s alabaster skin slick with sweat, his voice husky as he groaned the filthiest things, begging, begging for Estonia’s hand to stroke him off until he came all over his chest and collapsed on the cot, shaking and still laughing maniacally.
The Machine, uncaring of Prussia’s orgasm, continued to hum and thrust until Prussia’s oversensitive nerves made him whimper in protest and Estonia reached back to flip the off switch, his mouth lowering to lick the lovely sounds right out of Prussia’s lips.
He tugged the machine away after Prussia was milked dry, feeling rather than hearing the pop as Prussia’s enormous dildo slid out of his stretched ass. “Still doing okay?” He asked breathlessly, massaging carefully around Prussia’s perineum and the rim of his ass to assure there was no damage.
Maybe it was his fucked-out state, or perhaps because he because he really was very grateful for Estonia’s work, but Prussia dissolved into blissful dankes, and strange promises that Estonia could have “Any part of him, legs or whatever,” and Estonia closed his eyes and purposely misunderstood, pretending that he had won Prussia’s heart with just a fucking machine and a little kindness.
Fandom: Hetalia
Genre: Slash, PWP
Word Count: ~1800
Pairing: Prussia/Estonia
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Fucking machine
Notes: Written for this prompt on the
hetalia_kink meme. Fills the 'Fucking Machines' square of my kink_bingo. Summary: Estonia builds a fucking machine for Prussia. Then they test it out.
Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.
“Twelve centimeters?” Prussia looked genuinely confused.
“What? That’s a reasonably sized penis!” Estonia didn’t realize he sounded defensive until Prussia glanced at him so pityingly that he sighed and unscrewed the black (reasonably-sized!) plastic phallus from the business end of The Machine.
“Where’d you even find something this small?” Prussia snorted, swiping the dildo from Estonia’s hand, earning a scowl as he began tossing it from hand to hand. “Someone fuck me with something this tiny, I’d probably roll over and go to sleep.”
Estonia began developing a twitch under his left eye, which was always a signal that he should count backwards from ten and unclench his jaw before he ground his fillings into expensive silver saliva.
Prussia, his sometimes friend and lover, had moments that were purely infuriating. At least he looked cute in his porn star bathrobe. The one he had exited his house wearing, yelling loudly back to his brother that he was going out to get fucked by Estonia’s machine, and to make Bamberger Krautbraten for dinner, bitte.
“Alright, how’d you want me?” Prussia threw off his robe suddenly, rubbing his hands together.
Estonia, long used to sudden nakedness, raised one eyebrow in reply. “On the cot, Prussia.”
They had worked this out earlier, over the phone, and afterwards Estonia adjusted the pedestal of The Machine to a specific height and positioned it at the edge of an old cot he had dug out of the garage. It was from World War Two, but sturdy enough. He hoped. Better than getting Prussian body fluids and machine oil all over his own bed.
“It’s itchy!” Prussia whined, squirming on the narrow cot without an ounce of shame as his genitals bounced around between his spread thighs.
“Deal. It was your choice to come here without any decent clothes.” Estonia turned on the machine experimentally, stumbling back a few steps as the empty, thrusting metal arm aimed directly for his face. He pushed up his glasses and walked around the edge of the cot, tugging Prussia into position so that Estonia could tie down his biceps and wrists to the edges of the cot.
“I know you mentioned this over the phone, but I wasn’t listening. Why the bondage, again?” Prussia flexed experimentally. “If it’s the extra kink factor, just let me know, I’m not begrudging you.”
“You squirm. It’s even worse when you’re getting fucked.” Estonia blew a strand of hair off of his face. “I don’t want you to flip yourself off the cot.”
“Aw.” Prussia smirked upwards, nuzzling his nose into Estonia’s shoulder. “You do care!”
If he were Austria or Hungary, England or Romano or any of Prussia’s other lovers who were ashamed of his existence, Estonia might have denied that statement. As was, he merely rested a hand on Prussia’s forehead and smiled. “Just please don’t bleed. I like this carpet.”
“I know that’s not as ominous as you make it sound!” Prussia called after Estonia as he tinkered a bit with The Machine until it was fucking the air happily. “Oh fuck, I almost forgot.” Prussia gestured with his head to the black backpack he had brought along. “Get the dildo. I brought my own.”
Muttering something about “reasonable sizes”, Estonia unzipped Prussia’s bag and rooted around until he took out what looked like a red, black and yellow silicone penis. It sparkled.
Estonia blinked.
“Speechless in the face of awesome, yeah?” Prussia nodded slowly from the cot, his grin so wide it could only be described as shit-eating. “Take a good look ‘cause that, baby, is the famous five meters.”
“You made a model of your own cock. So you can get fucked … by yourself.” Estonia suddenly felt like the straight man in a joke he still didn’t understand.
“Fuck, yeah!” Prussia squirmed into position, opening his thighs unnecessarily wide and completely without shame. His skin was milky-white, crossed with light pink scars. Even his leg hair was pale and almost invisible.
Estonia’s mouth watered at the thought of nibbling his way up Prussia’s perfect legs, savoring those gorgeous scars with his tongue. But he would have to wait for that, until Prussia was so fucked-out he couldn’t mock Estonia for his sentimentality. With a suppressed sigh, Estonia tugged The Machine into place. There was a note of finality to the metallic clank as the arm drive bumped against the frame of the cot.
“Okay,” Estonia leaned over Prussia and pushed the hair out of his face. “You’ve stretched-“
“Duh, baby, of course! Let’s get this junk in my trunk!”
“Idiot,” Estonia tugged a small bottle of lube from his back pocket and snapped on a glove before squirting some onto his fingers. “You always underprep.”
It felt like the tenderest moment they had shared all afternoon when Estonia bent down and pressed two fingers into Prussia’s ass, opening him gently as he admonished that on no certain terms was Prussia to do anything idiotic. If it hurt or felt wrong in any way just tell him for God’s sake. Prussia just nodded and moaned, always a slut for fingers.
“Alright.” Estonia stepped away, tugging off his glove and throwing it away. He tried not to feel nervous as he reached down and guided the head of the dildo into Prussia’s stretched ass. It was a beautiful, arousing picture, but Estonia knew he couldn’t enjoy a minute of it unless Prussia was gaining pleasure as well.
“Let’s start this motherfucker!” Prussia cackled, and Estonia twisted the dial to the lowest setting.
An unnatural buzz filled the room, trembled under Estonia’s skin as the plastic cock began to push into Prussia’s ass. Despite his earlier reluctance to become aroused alone, Estonia could not tear his eyes away as the dildo steadily disappeared inch by garish inch.
Prussia panted, squirmed as far as the bonds allowed, and grew half-hard.
“How is it, are you okay?” Estonia glanced fearfully at his face.
“Sure,” His laugh was a bit weak. “Weird, but okay. Shit,” He craned his neck, trying to catch the right angle to see. “I’m really big.”
Estonia felt relieved. Prussia was up to cracking jokes, at least.
He dialed the machine up a notch, one hand resting protectively on its vibrating frame. The dildo drew half out of Prussia’s ass, glistening with lube, then pushed in again at the same, swinging pace. Prussia began making soft little sounds as he hooked his ankles under the frame of the cot and took the leisurely fuck.
“Faster,” He licked his lips, his skin misted with sweat.
Estonia looked at Prussia’s still-flaccid penis and worried, but shifted the dial again, breathing deeply to clear his head. Strange, the girls in the videos he had watched gave him no rise, but when it came to Prussia, every little sound and detail became wank material. Determined to distract himself, Estonia stroked along the metal body of The Machine, making sure it was warm but not overheated. The piston was relentless. Perfectly measured movements driving steadily into Prussia’s shaking hips.
“I’m stopping this.” Estonia hurriedly flipped the red switch he had installed just for this purpose. The noise The Machine made as it wound down sounded uncannily like disappointment, with a touch of slick squishing due to the lube.
“It’s fine, I’m telling you!” Prussia huffed, and as he craned his neck, Estonia could see his deep flush, the white-blonde hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. “I’m still trying to get used to it!”
“It’s at the wrong angle.” Estonia seemed angry at himself.
“How’d you know?” Prussia flushed even redder, easy to tell on his pale skin.
“After all this time, you still don’t think I know where your prostate is?” Estonia made a mental note to his designs. It had to be easier to adjust the angle of the thrusts. As of now, it took a screwdriver and a few pointers from Prussia until Estonia was assured that he was completely satisfied. And it might have been a sign of progress, or maybe just desensitization, but Estonia didn’t even freak out that much when he got lube all over his bare fingers.
Motor oil, semen, sweat and lube. He’d told Prussia the four problems he had with his fantasy from day one, and Prussia had laughed it off, calling him OCD. Far from the most sensitive in the world, his Prussia. Still, after compromises were made, Estonia found that he actually started enjoying (the idea, at least) of The Machine. Something to give Prussia what he wanted, while Estonia could stand back, fully clothed and dignified. So even though he knew Prussia only came to him because of his technical expertise and willingness to try anything where Prussia was concerned, Estonia couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit grateful.
“Better?” Estonia asked as he slid the reangled dildo into Prussia’s slick hole.
“Fuck!” Prussia closed his eyes and arched his head back into the edge of the cot. Immediately, Estonia moved to flip the switch again. “No!” Prussia cracked open an eye, suddenly panting for all the right reasons. “No, I mean, it’s good, it’s perfect.”
He swore again when Estonia turned it on, throwing his head back on the bed and trying his damndest to arch his body and fuck his hips down onto the pistoning machine.
“Fuck, yeah, yeah,” Prussia chanted, out of breath with moaning and laughter. His cock hardened and darkened into a quivering red, bobbing up with every thrust and dripping precome all over his abs.
Years later, Estonia would still remember this and not even feel all that guilty for jacking himself to the images of Prussia’s alabaster skin slick with sweat, his voice husky as he groaned the filthiest things, begging, begging for Estonia’s hand to stroke him off until he came all over his chest and collapsed on the cot, shaking and still laughing maniacally.
The Machine, uncaring of Prussia’s orgasm, continued to hum and thrust until Prussia’s oversensitive nerves made him whimper in protest and Estonia reached back to flip the off switch, his mouth lowering to lick the lovely sounds right out of Prussia’s lips.
He tugged the machine away after Prussia was milked dry, feeling rather than hearing the pop as Prussia’s enormous dildo slid out of his stretched ass. “Still doing okay?” He asked breathlessly, massaging carefully around Prussia’s perineum and the rim of his ass to assure there was no damage.
Maybe it was his fucked-out state, or perhaps because he because he really was very grateful for Estonia’s work, but Prussia dissolved into blissful dankes, and strange promises that Estonia could have “Any part of him, legs or whatever,” and Estonia closed his eyes and purposely misunderstood, pretending that he had won Prussia’s heart with just a fucking machine and a little kindness.
