Shopping in Warsaw (A Poland + Lithuania ONE-SHOT)

Sorry guys, keeping it clean in this one!! Enjoy!!

"Like, isn't this dress pretty, Toris?" the young Polish man said as he pushed the dressing room curtain aside in order to step out. He posed like a runway model with his hands on his hips and his legs parted to show his friend Toris the outfit he had just taken off the sale rack. Toris never really understood why Feliks, his longtime friend, would insist on dressing like a girl. Oh well, he thought from time to time, it's none of my business.

The Lithuanian blushed, looking at him with the same kind of incredulity he always had when his friend dressed in drag. Feliks was trying on a long-sleeved dress in his favorite color, pink, with a coordinating russet-colored turtleneck underneath it. The look was completed with pink and white striped tights and a pair of heeled black boots. Toris smiled shyly and nodded at his friend, who still posed effeminately.

"It...is a good look," he said. Feliks smiled at him, placing his delicate hands to his chest as if touched by something emotional. Signs of blushing showed in his cheeks as he looked at Toris, whose remained on his for a long, seemingly endless moment. Meanwhile, a saleswoman came by holding a frilly blue skirt on a hanger, and it diverted Feliks and made him excitedly frantic. He walked to the saleswoman and tapped her on the shoulder just before she could hang it up on a rack.

"Excuse me, but I think, like, that skirt totally has my name on it," Feliks said, looking at the young saleswoman.

"Certainly," she said, handing him the skirt on the hanger. Her eyes scanned the outfit he had been modelling for Toris; "that looks fabulous on you!"

"Thank you!" Feliks said with a cheeky smile, walking back to a sitting Toris near the fitting room.

"I'm so buying this," the young Polish man said, admiring himself in the mirror again before going in with the skirt. He closed the curtain and took off the clothing items. Before putting on the skirt, he undid the back closure and slipped into it. Pulling it up to his waist, he had trouble redoing the closure. He poked his head out of the fitting room curtain and caught Toris' attention.

"You there," he joked with blushing cheeks. "Can you come in here and help me?"

The thought of going into a fitting room with his flamboyant friend made him feel odd, a mixture of alien emotions he had never felt before. Shaking his head, he got up and went into the fitting room, where Feliks had the skirt fastened on him already. Toris raised his eyebrow at Feliks, who stared back with his seductive green eyes and batting his eyelashes.

"F-F-Feliks?" Toris asked. "The...well...the skirt. You managed to put it on yourself."

"Yes, I did," he answered.

"Alright, I guess you don't need me," Toris said, turning his back to reach for the fitting room's curtain. Before he could even touch the coarse fabric, Feliks grabbed both of his hands and pinned him against the wall, pressing his lips to his. Toris' eyes widened and stayed that way until Feliks ended the kiss. He smiled at the Lithuanian lovingly, but Toris was embarrassed.

"Feliks....I...why did you...why?" he asked. The young Polish man wrapped his arms around Toris' neck, looking into his eyes. 

"I like you very much, Toris," he confessed. "I hope you like me, too."

"Feliks," Toris said with uncertainty. "I...well...I have felt something...toward you for a little while now."

"You have? Oh, I'm so happy," Feliks said with a bright smile. Toris smiled shyly as their foreheads leaned in slowly for their lips to meet in a tender, warm kiss.

The taste of Felik's lips was that of strawberry lip gloss, but Toris didn't mind it one bit. He was more relaxed knowing that he was with someone with whom he had gotten along with for so long. Feliks' hands placed themselves on the sides of his crush's face, and Toris' arms were snaked around his friend's waist, hugging him snugly against him. Feliks moaned gently as Toris' tongue brushed against his lower lip. He put his own tongue to use, making their kiss be a competition for dominance. After a few minutes of soft moaning, Toris won; Feliks was dissatisfied and broke the kiss.

"No fair," he said.

"It's fair to me," Toris answered with a soft giggle. "Oh well, how can I possibly make it fair for you?"

"Be my boyfriend?" Feliks suggested.

"Done," Toris said with a smile.

Until We Meet Again (A France + Jeanne LEMON)

Notice: Your feels may explode, for this is probably the saddest pairing in all of Hetalia. Enjoy, here's hoping you don't cry TOO much!!!

"Non! Pardon! Don't hurt me! Please!!" Jeanne pleaded, on her knees in front of the fully-clad guards in metal armor. One of them chuckled in a cruel fashion as tears began streaming down Jeanne's face. She had just been thrown into prison, waiting indefinitely for her ultimate fate. She had been stripped of her body armor and the men's clothing she wore in order to dupe the French troops that she was a man who would lead them to battle, and was dressed in woman's clothing for the first time in quite some while. Leading the French to war was one of Jeanne's major accomplishments, but being a woman, she had rely on the voice of God to help her do what she wanted most; when she led the French, it was a significant victory that most thought only a man could achieve. 

"You think you can just deceive people just because God told you to! I seriously doubt God would lead someone to turn to heresy," the guard said, withdrawing his sword and pointing it to her chin. "After all, God made womankind from a rib. A single rib."

"Je suis innocent! I never wanted to go against conformity! Please! Believe me!" Jeanne pleaded, tears falling as she begged on her knees as if she were in church. Her eyes looked so pleading, but they didn't convince the guards.

"You do not charm me," the guard said, lifting her chin higher with the tip of the sword's blade. "I still have yet to tell you your sentence; death. At stake. Burning."

"Non! Ne me tu pas!" Jeanne pleaded. "I'll do anything, Monsieur! Please! Have mercy!"

"Your sentence was already declared by His Majesty," the other guard said. "Unfortunately he is a stubborn man. He hates heretics."

The men turned to leave, locking her in her cell as she cried and sobbed. He prayed inside her head for the well-being of Francis, her one true love she had been unexpectedly torn away from. If she knew she was going to die, her only wish was for Francis to go on without her despite its difficulty.

She had known Francis since she was a child, their first meeting being the time she saw saints' spirits before her eyes in an open meadow. As she called out her claims during the run back to her peasant village, Francis' attention was caught, intrigued by what she saw. From that moment forth they became very good friends who forged a companionship that gradually grew closer to the point of love. Before Jeanne lead the French into battle, Francis confessed his deep love for her, mostly grown out of respect for her and her strength. Jeanne, at first, had no clue what to say, but later realized that she loved him as well. 

Now, she was very worried; she wanted to marry Francis, but now that she was imprisoned and condemned to death, that wasn't going to happen. Now, all she could do was pray for Francis' well-being, or at least for her soul to ascend to heaven as she believed it destined to.

After quite some time, the sun set. After the approach of nightfall, Jeanne was wide awake, sitting on the straw cot below the barred prison cell window. Her hands were clasped together as she thought about God; why had he sent her on a mission only to get punished for it? Did he prize her so much that he wanted her to be with him in heaven for all eternity?

Perhaps it is fate, better so, she thought silently.

The sound of her prison cell door unlocking caught her attention quickly, causing her to look up with curiosity. He looked like a guard, and it scared and apprehended her. She got up from the straw cot and took a step back, feeling her heart race with fear.

"Jeanne?" the man asked. "I have come for you." Now, fear had taken up her heart and her mind. 

"Non! Please say it isn't so! It is not morning!" Jeanne shouted. 

"Il n'es pas," the man said. Jeanne collapsed on the stone floor, sobbing heavily as she spoke frantically and morosely.

"Not the stake! Not the stake! Not the stake!" she repeated.

The man knelt next to her and patted her back gently, trying to console her. Jeanne had a strange feeling about him, as if she had known him before. Then his voice became familiar.

"I have not come to kill you, mon amour," the guard said. Jeanne gasped, looking up at the helmeted guard who took it off to show her his true identity. She gasped at the sight of Francis; he had disguised himself as a guard just to see Jeanne with the possibility of being with her on her final night alive. From his long blond hair to his dreamy blue eyes, she was so happy to see him.

"Francis!" she cried joyfully, throwing her arms around him. "How did you--"

"I just came in here, mon cherie," the sensual Frenchman said, taking his metal gauntlet off to caress her face. "I needed to see you." He sighed sadly, looking away with his eyes closed. "I heard that you were sentenced."

"Oui," Jeanne answered morosely. He caressed her face again with a single, gentle stroke that sent chills throughout her body. Nobody was like Francis, and if it were moral, she would give herself wholly to him right there in her prison cell. He looked at her, studying her stern, delicate face, her blue eyes and her short, unevenly-cut blonde hair. He leaned in and kissed her passionately.

Jeanne threw her arms around him, returning his kiss wholeheartedly as the tip of his tongue brushed her lower lip. He anticipated making love to her, but in order to find out if it was the right thing to do, he broke the kiss and looked into her eyes.

"Jeanne, mon amour," he began with a whisper.

"Oui, François?" she asked, caressing his stubbly face gently as she exchanged glances with him.

"Je désire faire l'amour vous," he said. She smiled sadly, but thought about what he wanted. How could they pleasure each other in a prison cell when guards could be hearing them through the door? He leaned and whispered.

"Je te veux," Francis whispered suggestively, removing his plate armor slowly so no strange noises could be heard from outside the door. Jeanne watched him, and when he crashed his lips into hers, she kissed him with all her being.

Her arms rested on his shoulders as he moved lower to gently suck on her neck. She dipped her head back slowly, Francis' fingers undoing the front laces of her ragged garment. Jeanne blushed, breaking the kiss as she let him go to see what he was going to do.

"You are akin to God," she said. "You are the savior to my purity." With that being said, Jeanne removed her garment and let the light fabric fall off her shoulders, exposing her breasts to the man she loved. Francis was emotionally touched by her words, also her gesture, and he immediately clutched Jeanne's waist to kiss the soft skin of her bosom. 

"Ah," she moaned softly, placing her hands on his shoulders as he continued to make love to her with kisses. His hands travelled up to cup them, his palms and fingers squeezing them gently. He ran his tongue over her nipples between soft sucking, making her feel a wave of foriegn, once-sinful emotions.

"Oh," she moaned. Francis continued at her breasts for another few long moments before his lips met with hers in a tender, passionate kiss. He removed and discarded his shirt, allowing Jeanne to caress his perfect male form.

"Tu est beau," she told him. He smirked, kissing her once more before making her lie down, her back against the cool stone floor of the cell. She didn't care if a few chills ran through her body, for she knew it would help her cool down during the heat of pleasure.

Francis leaned forward and kissed Jeanne again, trailing his nose down her neck, breasts, and stomach until he reached her swollen, moist femininity. Jeanne blushed a shade of bright red, but Francis, noticing this, caressed her cheek to reassure her that she would be alright and protected in his arms.

"Don't worry," he said, his fingers starting to stroke her. She arched her back quickly and moaned. She caught herself expressing delight too loudly, managing to stifle the sound in order to not draw attention to her prison cell. His fingers traced her slick folds gently, reaching a whole new level of pleasure for Jeanne when he stroked a certain area.

"Ah! Nh...Francis," she groaned. "It is...trés bien."

"Hmm," Francis cooed, unbuckling his belt with his free hand to release his hard member. He stroked it a bit as his inserted a finger inside of her to see if she was ready for his entry.

"Je ne peux pas prendre plus. I need you now, Francis," Jeanne whined pleadingly. "Dear Lord in heaven, forgive me."

"You will have me," he said, lining his member to the beginning of her entrance. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, and as he entered her, she arched suddenly against him and dug her nails into his sculpted back. She whimpered, tears running down her face as she felt herself being torn. Francis thrusted a few more times, and she nearly screamed. He took the liberty to shut her up with passionate kissing. She closed her eyes, tears continuing to streak down her face as she felt her virginity being taken.

"Are you alright?" he asked, kissing the corner of her left eye. The pain was no longer there, which influenced her to nod.

"Oui," she told him. "You may move inside of me."

Taking her words, he put them into action as he held both of her hips, pushing in and out of her slowly. With each thrust, Jeanne moaned and arched under him, feeling his wispy chest hairs tickle her breasts gently. She reached up and placed her arms around his neck, holding him closer as she pleaded for more.

"Il se sent bon," she sighed, starting to whine. "Harder."

"Oh Jeanne, j'taime," Francis said, leaning down to kiss her lips passionately as the fire in his loins roared ferociously. The power of his thrusts intensified, sending her to an imaginary land of paradise. It wasn't quite like Heaven, for she had seen it before in visions. This was better than Heaven--it was simply too complex and good to describe. 

"Ah! Francis!" she moaned, paying no consideration to her loudness. Nobody was around, and the neighboring prisoners were in deep sleeps in their own cells. She felt her nails scratch his back as he went faster inside of her, but he didn't mind as long as he wasn't hurting her. In fact, he liked that she let out her inner warrioress during their lovemaking. It only prompted him to delve deeper into her liquid heat, hitting a certain spot repeatedly that made her pant for air and moan as she was engulfed with sexual bliss.

"Ah! Francis! It's so good!" Jeanne shouted, feeling as though she were about to climax at any minute.

"Jeanne! Mon amour, I'm going to...cum," he told her.

"I'll cherish it forever. This moment is precious, and for all eternity in Heaven, I'll remember you," she said, crying just before she felt a warm fluid fill her. He kissed her once more, pulling out and laying besides her, caressing her nudity with his fingers. Her skin felt warm and she seemed to glow brighter than the full moon shining through the prison window.  Francis looked down at her, and kissed her, holding her tightly.

"Je ne veux pas vous laisser aller," he whispered. "I will never forget you, mon amour."

"Please do not leave me," Jeanne told him. "I am to die tomorrow, but I am happy to have spent my last night with you." He looked down at her, her eyes shining up at him with pride and bravery.

"Until we meet again," Francis began, "I will never stop thinking of you. J'taime."

Sunflower Fields (A Ukraine + Estonia LEMON)

My newest lemon!! Enjoy!!

 

"Irunya! Where are you?"

 

Eduard heard familiar giggling as he called out her name. The grassy terrain crunched below his feet as he ran rapidly into the field of brightly-colored sunflowers. The sun was beginning to set, and the skyline was becoming a light orange shade that illuminated his environment perfectly. Everything seemed to be so joyful and happy, sharing the same yellow hues as the sunflowers and the setting sun.

He walked around for a few minutes, moving through the crowded, tall plants to track down the sound of laughter. The sound continued, making the young man's heart flutter like a big butterfly in his chest. When he heard a thump, the giggling turned to full-out laughter. Walking a few steps forward, whilst moving a few thick sunflower stems and leaves aside, he saw the Ukrainian girl kneeling and laughing. 

"Silly me! I suck! I tripped!" she howled, joviality still present in her voice. Eduard sat down in front of her and let out a giggle, adjusting his glasses as he studied her carefully.

Irunya Braginskya had been a good friend of his for some time now, but he acknowledged his deeper feelings for her soon after they met. It wasn't at first sight, but it was the fact that he felt bad for her. She came from a poor family who farmed for a living and at the age of twenty, she still lived in her small Ukrainian village. Eduard thought she was a very beautiful girl, of course, from her platinum blonde, chin length hair held back by a few hair clips and a blue bandana. She had bland dark blue eyes, fair skin, and dressed in a homely manner. Today she was not wearing the usual white blouse and pants with suspenders; she was wearing a dark blue, voluminous skirt with a butter yellow sheer blouse which accentuated her enormous, natural bust. Eduard was so intrigued by the contents of her blouse, and it wasn't just this time...it was every time he saw her. Just thinking of their size and fullness when he wasn't in the Ukraine visiting her made him harden to the point where a bulge showed through his pants. Eduard loved her, his emotions intensifying as he noticed a rip on the top of her blouse where the buttons were. He cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow, looking at the area the rip was in so he could convey it to her without embarrassment. 

"Oh dear god," she said, shaking her head with pink, blushing cheeks as she struggled to cover up the hole in her blouse. Eduard protested with his eyes, but also moved her hand away from her large bosom. He licked his lips subtly, Irunya looking at him strangely. She, in turn, liked Eduard but hid her feelings out of fear of heartbreak and rejection.

"Don't...you don't have to hide, Irunya," he told her, blushing violently. Irunya shook her head frantically.

"This is humiliating! On top of it, my big boobies are making my back hurt a lot," she whined. This was not unusual; Eduard was used to this and normally expected it, but he was so desperate to show her he really had feelings for her. Sympathizing with her pain, he crawled over a few inches and began rubbing and patting her back gently. Irunya blushed, but still enjoyed his touch.

"I'm sorry you have pain, Irunya," Eduard told her, his fingers gliding over the yellow fabric that covered her back. She looked back into his eyes and smiled.

"I'm feeling a little better," she told him, relieving him of the thought that he may have been bothering her. He smiled, inhaling the fresh, unusual scent of the tall sunflowers around them. The sunlight added to their strangely alluring fragrance as he inhaled deeply.

"What a beautiful day," he said. 

"Oh? It's nearly sunset," Irunya contradicted.

"I know, but it is still beautiful. Whenever the sun is up, I am happy," Eduard said, looking into her eyes as he began caressing her cheek. "But when I am with you, it is even better." The sound of his voice captivated her so easily--it was like she fell deeper in love with him at an instant. Her cheeks turned a bright, rosy tint as his gentle touch sent chills of joy down her spine.

"Eduard," she said. 

"Yes, Irunya. I really like you," he confessed, leaning in to kiss her. His lips crashed onto hers, and while Irunya was surprised at first, she relaxed with passing seconds as he held her close with his hands on her waist and her arms snaked around his neck and shoulders. Eduard loved the taste and feel of her lips, but he was turned on at the feeling of her enormous breast pressing against his chest. The inseam of his pants grew tighter as they continued kissing. Within a matter of moments, Irunya broke the kiss. 

"I...like you, too, Eduard," she told him, kissing his cheek gently. Smirking, he kissed her passionately, enjoying the feeling of her bosom pressing against his chest. He held her tightly, causing her to moan in their kiss just before he broke it to speak. Irunya stared into his eyes.

"Have you ever been with a man, Irunya?" Eduard asked, causing her to blush a dark shade of red at such a question. 

"Why do you ask such things?" she questioned.

"I am just curious," he replied, looking down at her smooth cotton skirt to feel the fabric. To Irunya, it felt like he was touching her thigh; she enjoyed the feeling, leaning in to kiss his cheek. Eduard, in turn, crashed his lips onto hers with such force that she fell back onto the grass.

Kneeling between her legs, he pinned her skirt firmly to the ground as his kissing drive her wild. She moaned delicately, feeling his hand go to the hole in the middle of her shirt. His grip on the edge of the tear was firm, so he broke the kiss in order to rip the rest of her already-ruined shirt. She squealed in shock, blushing as her sizeable cleavage became more visible. Eduard looked down, caressing the exposed parts of her fullness; he knew they were begging for him to release them from their confines in her bra. Irunya reached to the front of her bra and unhooked the front clasp for him, knowing that he wanted to see and do maybe more to her most well-known feature.

"Here," she groaned lightly, finally unhooking the clasp. "It hooks in the front."

Eduard pulled the cups off her breasts and looked at them, his eyes hungry with insane lust as his hand ran over them. She moaned heavily, panting as she felt his tongue brush her left nipple. She held him close to her, running her fingers through his blond hair as he suckled her. Irunya blushed with a slight bit of embarrassment--he reminded her of a baby taking in milk from its mother.

"Eduard...oh," she moaned, his other hand caressing her other breast with gentle, slow strokes. He moaned as he took her other nipple into his mouth, sucking her wildly and vivaciously.

"Eduard," she repeated. His name sounded more like a sacred chant as she continued rubbing his head. His mouth still feasted lightly on her nipples as he reached up her skirt to stroke her through her panties. She gasped enough for him to notice, and he liked that she was enjoying herself. The thin fabric of her panties was soaked with her juices, especially where he was stroking her. Eduard continued kissing her breasts as his fingers teased her divinity.

"Eduard!" she moaned, blushing madly from the sensations. He smirked, sucking on a nipple before speaking.

"You are so wet," he said. He stopped, leaving her body begging for more of his sweet torment.

"Why did you stop?" she questioned. "More, please!" She was really begging now, and it aroused Eduard greatly.

"Wait a moment," he told her, reaching under her bottom to pull her panties off. Irunya blushed, the undergarment traveling down her skirt slowly as he smirked jokingly. He then leaned forward toward her newly-exposed womanhood, his tongue brushing her folds slowly. She jolted upon first feeling the sensation.

"Eduard! What are you....oh....ah," she moaned. 

He began licking from the bottom of her wetness to the top, slowly as he took his time with pleasuring her. Irunya tried to relax her upper body by laying with her arms spread out, preventing her hips from bucking too soon. When he started sucking her small bundle of nerves, she blushed and arched her back quickly.

"Ed-E-Eduard," she sighed, flattening her back one more time against the warm blades of green and tan grass. The remains of her blouse were still on her, but her breasts were fully exposed, nipples hardened greatly from the pleasure. He reached up, fondling one in his hand, making her gasp loudly.

"Ah!" she moaned. "It's amazing! More!"

"More?" Eduard asked, sticking the index finger of his free hand inside of her slowly. As she moaned, he slid it in and out, her juices lubricating his finger just perfectly as he determined that she was definitely ready for him to go inside her. He undid his belt and unzipped his slacks, lifting the front of her skirt up so he could kneel between her legs and rub the head of his member to her liquidity. He looked down into her eyes, smiling down at her as he pushed himself into her liquid heat slowly. She arched her back.

"Ah! Eduard!" she whimpered, arching her back. He held her close to him, starting as slow as he entered her, going in only so deep in order to tease her and make her beg for more.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Irunya nodded.

"Yes. It didn't hurt too much. You can move now," she told him.

Her arms snaked around his neck as his hands travelled down to her hips, holding them as he went wild inside of her. They moaned together, satisfied with the pleasure they were getting evenly from each other.

"Irunya! It's amazing inside of you!" he shouted, tilting her bucking hips upward so he could hit her sweet spot.

"AH! Вона відчуває себе так добре. Я збираюся оніміли!" she moaned in her mother tongue, her heart racing faster than percussion underneath the Estonian.

"See on kerimine minu ümber," he groaned, speaking his language as he moved faster inside of her. He still had most of his clothes on, but his member was sticking out of his pants. Almost every inch of his body was covered in a thin layer of perspiration. When he felt like he was nearing his climax, he held her close and whispered forcefully into her ear.

"I am about to--" He came inside of her, making Irunya feel a strange, warm fluidity flow inside her. He pulled out of her and looked down, putting his erection back in his pants as he looked down at Irunya. She looked exhausted, her enormous, natural breasts rising up and down in sync with her breathing. 

"Ma armastan sind," he told her. Her eyes widened, looking up at him
"What did you say?" she asked.

"I love you, Irunya," he repeated, leaning forward to kiss her gently. Returning it wholeheartedly, she broke the kiss to answer.

"I love you, too, Eduard," she told him, sitting up to put her panties back where they belonged under her skirt. She then hooked her bra back up, but knew she had nothing on her at that moment to fix her blouse.

"It's alright," he said. "I love how that looks."

"Don't be foolish! I look a mess!" Irunya contradicted.

"Come on. Why don't we call it a day, eh?" he suggested.

With that, he picked her up bridal-style and walked in the seemingly never ending sunflower field toward her small house. This sure was the best sunny day he had ever had in his life.