Title: Threshold
Author/Artist: Yuurei
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Nordics-centric, Fem!Sweden/Fem!Finland, cameo from Fem!Sealand. Nyotalia-verse, so everyone is genderbent.
Rating: M
Warning(s): Possible Probable major fail, smut, fluff galore, early 17th century marriage rites, Hidekaz not bringing much historical accuracy for me to work with, girl on girl loving. Also, the character designs I used for Finland and Sweden can be seen in Hanabishi Vermeiren's amazing Nordics Genderbend pic: Without a doubt, the most beautiful Su-san ever. Praise her!
Summary: More than one barrier is crossed in the consummation of marriage. Written for a kink meme request, and part of the Only A Northern Song series.
Stockholm, 1629
"Why are you smilingggg-? Sveeee-"
Sweden takes another sip of her ale, trying to hide the tiny smile playing on her lips. It's not a very good attempt, and Finland huffs a little before refilling her own tankard. The smaller nation's always been the hardier drinker between the two of them, but Finland is really packing the alcohol away tonight, on her fifth glass to Sweden's second. But that isn't surprising. Sweden knows Finland likes to fight, her genuinely sweet exterior cloaking steely resolve and unyielding strength on the battlefield. It's only natural she feels disappointed at being robbed of her chance to take on the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. And Sweden doesn't doubt they could have won. Not her and Finland, side by side with swords in hand.
But it's not like the Commonwealth was weak either. And no victory was worth more than Finland not getting hurt in the process. She just wants Finland to be happy, to be safe. Sweden loves her. She always has. That Finland never seems to have noticed, much less return her feelings is an ever-present thorn in her heart, but it's alright. Sweden's given into those emotions just once, that cold winter's night she left Denmark's house and somehow convinced Finland to follow. Having allowed herself that much, she's content to protect Finland and always leave that bit of distance between them.
Does she want more than that? Of course. Sweden wonders if it's possible to be utterly consumed by one's own emotions, so intensely does Finland command her heart without even trying. More than once she's woken up gasping and needy, the other nation's name on her lips and flashes of silky ash-blonde hair, violet eyes heated with desire, and bare, soft skin playing across her mind's eye. Sharing a bed as they do, she's lucky Finland sleeps so soundly and hasn't caught her in such a moment. Explaining that away is leagues beyond her limited skill with words.
The slam of glass against the smooth wood of the table snaps Sweden out of her thoughts, and she glances up to see Finland frowning at her, all liquor-flushed cheeks and pursed mouth.
"Really, Sve," Finland says. "Pay attention when someone's talking."
"S'rry," Sweden mumbles, embarrassed. She fidgets with her tankard for a second before finishing off the dregs. Anything to distract from how soft Finland's lips look in the candlelight, and the generous swell of her breasts under the simple wool shirt she wears. Though they, and indeed most female Nations tend to wear men's attire on the battlefield for ease of movement, the contrast between Finland's womanly figure and masculine clothing is strangely titillating. As the ale hits her system, Sweden thinks they really should have changed after coming home, and then realizes it wouldn't have really made a difference either way. In anything she wears, Finland is far too tempting. Sweden just hopes her small but growing blush will be written off as a combination of alcohol and the warmth from the fireplace. "W's thinkin' about t'day."
Finland's frown deepens at that, and she leans back in her chair with an expression that's too frustrated to be called a pout. "Then why didn't you answer my question? What on earth possessed you to just up and leave like that?"
"Nn…" Sweden grunts, hastily collecting her thoughts. "…'m…that is…"
The other Nation just sighs, emptying her drink before setting it down. Sweden trails off, and the room goes silent but for the crackling of burning wood.
"I just don't understand," Finland finally speaks up. Sweden opens her mouth to respond, but the other Nation waves a hand for quiet. "Not just today, but…we've been in the same house one way or another for hundreds of years. Why can't you ever share things with me?" It seems some sort of mental dam has broken inside Finland as she goes on, mistaking Sweden's stunned silence for her normal one. Her face is reddening steadily as a sunrise, violet eyes flashing with emotions repressed for who knew how long. "I-I just want to share your burdens, Sve, but you always keep things to yourself, and…and you never even touch me-"
"T-touch y'?" Sweden chokes, utterly lost. She's beginning to seriously think she's dreaming now, because there's no way Finland would ever say what she just did, especially if she's referring to that kind of touching.
"You call me your wife, but not once have you…" Finland's voice is more subdued now, as if letting out all those emotions in one burst cooled her down. She's still blushing rather hard, though, and it's something Sweden would find extremely cute if she wasn't so occupied with her own crippling embarrassment. "I mean, I was nervous at first when we started sharing a bed, but it's been over a hundred years now and we haven't done anything-" As if aware she is babbling, Finland snaps her mouth shut abruptly, looking away from Sweden.
There's an awkward tension in the room, and for the life of her Sweden has no idea how to make things better. Her mind is swimming in a sea of confusion and turbulent emotion, and it's taking everything she has not to drown.
"Sv…Sweden?" Finland asks in a hesitant tone. It's rather jarring to be called by her full name-something Finland hasn't done for hundreds of years now-and the sound of it is just wrong to her ears. "I'm sorry if I…assumed things I shouldn't have." She stands up, biting her lip hard in a way that tells Sweden she's barely keeping her composure. "I'll just go and-"
Sweden's hand shoots out so fast to grasp Finland's it surprises even her. Or at least it would if she was thinking about anything except keeping her wife from leaving. The smaller nation lets out a little squeak as she finds herself pulled onto Sweden's lap, eyes wide and face prettily flushed.
"O-ohyaaa…w-what are you-" Finland stammers, her chest heaving in a rather enticing way.
"Sve," Sweden cuts her off, adjusting her hold so her arms are gently keeping Finland in place. At the confused stare she gets she continues, "Feels wrong f'r you t'call me anythin' else."
The way Finland's eyes go so soft and warm at that heats her from head to toe like fine, heady wine. She's just beautiful like that, always so impossibly lovely Sweden could lose herself in gazing at her, but there are important things that need to be said before she can
indulge in that. "As f'r t'…t'ching…didn't know y'wanted t'."
"Oh…I…I really do, Sve." Finland's gone straight from rosy pink to brilliant crimson by this point. She pauses, seemingly working up the nerve for something. Her arms slip around Sweden's neck, and before she knows it their mouths are merged together, hard and urgent. It's clumsy like Finland doesn't quite know what she's doing, and the angle is a little uncomfortable. But none of that really matters, not when Sweden's been dreaming of this for so long and thought it would never come true. She lifts one hand up to cup Finland's smooth neck, the other pressing against the small of her back to pull her closer. The other Nation makes a little noise at that before slanting her mouth against Sweden's, and somehow it makes things perfect. There is no partnership like theirs once they find their equilibrium, and it seems that even applies to things like this.
Sweden dimly registers Finland's hands threading through her hair, untying the blue ribbon binding gold locks into a ponytail, but is far more occupied with the wet heat of Finland's tongue snaking through her lips. It tastes of ale and apples and something that's purely Finland, and the combination is utterly addictive. Wanting more, her own tongue twirls against the smaller Nation's even as she grows light-headed from the sensation and a building need for air. Finally her body trumps desire and Sweden reluctantly pulls away from Finland, panting softly as their eyes lock.
They stare at each other, and for a minute it's more strained then before. Sweden swallows hard, her stomach plummeting with sudden fear. She nearly moves to push Finland away, to go-somewhere, anywhere-only to stop midway when the shorter woman lets out a short, rueful laugh.
"We're really not good at this, are we?" Finland rests her head on Sweden's shoulder, her exhale brushing against her skin. Her ash-blonde hair smells fresh and clean, like the air after rainfall, and Sweden can't help but breathe in the scent of it. "But…Sve, I did mean it. Um, earlier. So…if you want to…"
Sweden's heart does a nervous, jumping little skip in her chest at that. It's true, she wants what Finland's offering more desperately than the other Nation could possibly know, but not if she doesn't want it too. Even with all Finland's said to her, it's still so hard to believe. Not that she doesn't trust her, but just that her dreams being fulfilled like this always seemed so distant as to be in the realm of fantasy. "D'you?"
Out of the corner of her eye she sees the redness on Finland's face deepen in color. To say she looks flustered would be an understatement, and as she lifts her head from Sweden's shoulder the shorter woman keeps her gaze down. Wetting her lip nervously, Finland speaks up like it is taking all her sisu to do so.
"Ah, Sve…" She begins. Even the tips of her ears have gone pink by now. "I guess you never really realized this, but…didn't you ever wonder why I'd always cling closer to you whenever you woke up from...er...having a good dream? Or why my nightshift kept slipping down so much?"
"…" Sweden can't respond at all beyond that-her mortification is so intense it kills all other semblance of thought. Finally she manages to weakly croak, "Y'were aw'ke?"
"It's kind of hard to sleep when someone's moaning your name right in your ear," Finland says like it's the most normal thing in the world. By this point, Sweden is praying for someone to just strike her down before embarrassment, Finland, or some combination of the two does the job first. Seemingly oblivious to Sweden's death-wish, the shorter Nation plays with one pale blonde braid and continues, "I was disappointed you never tried anything. Your self-control is really good, Sve. If it hadn't been for that, I wouldn't have been able to tell you wanted me at all." Finland gives her a little smile, and even at a time like this it still makes Sweden melt inside. "I guess that's why I didn't have the nerve to try anything more obvious."
Sweden opens and shuts her mouth a few times, a mismatched whirl of words on her tongue. Eventually she settles on, "Th'n…y'want…"
Finland just stares at her for a second, exasperation creeping into her eyes. Sweden isn't sure what to make of it, but it turns out she doesn't have to when the smaller Nation leans up to kiss her again. It's hot and fierce and it's all Sweden can to not to be burned up by it. As her arms pull Finland closer to her because even that tiny distance is unacceptable, she feels a slim hand, pleasantly calloused from holding a sword, slide under her shirt to stroke bare skin. Her breath hitches at that, the simple sensation feeling almost unbearably good, and she doesn't even try to hold back her gasp into Finland's mouth. The other woman makes a small humming noise of pleasure, the languid strokes of her tongue against Sweden's gaining in intensity. She runs her fingers up Sweden's spine, like she's counting vertebrae one by one, then abruptly changing course to sweep across Sweden's ribs and up till she's reached her breast. Finland squeezes once over the binds restraining it, gently, and to her heighted senses it sends a jolt of need right through her like lightning.
Just before Sweden becomes totally overcome, Finland breaks the kiss, breathing hard. Violet eyes darkened with need flick up to meet hers, and lips swollen slightly from kissing quirk into a smile.
"If…that didn't make it obvious enough," Finland begins, her hand still resting on her chest, "Then I'll have to do something drastic."
"I g't it, but d'n't let that st'p y'," Sweden replies. Finland blinks at that before giving her a look that sends her pulse hammering, especially when she moves her hand away and goes instead for the top clasp of Sweden's shirt. Her fingers are trembling slightly and she fumbles with the tie for a second before successfully undoing it. A second tie, then third follow, exposing Sweden's skin to her collarbone. Warm lips press a tender, lingering kiss to the sensitive hollow of her throat, and it's enough she can't help but tighten her grip around the smaller Nation's waist.
"Sve," Finland murmurs, the twin undercurrents of need and affection in her voice causing Sweden's heart to pound faster. Her tongue darts out as if to taste the other woman's skin, the feeling nothing short of dizzying. Without thinking about it Sweden's fingers dig into Finland's side, urgency already getting the best of her.
"Fin, wait," Sweden finds the strength to get out. The expression on Finland's face is so starkly disappointed it's almost a force in itself. She had definitely been right earlier, she thinks. They're both so bad at communicating with each other. But she has to try, even when it's kind of embarrassing to say. "Bedroom'd be bett'r."
Finland's eyes light up brilliantly, but it's the slow, curling smile she gives Sweden that really has her feeling strangely hot. "Well, this time."
Sweden prides herself for merely choking a bit on her air at that, rather than letting her jaw drop outright. Summoning up her pieces of fractured calm she takes advantage of their position to lift Finland into her arms, rising up to her full height. Finland clings a little tighter to her, clearly startled, but Sweden hardly minds that soft body pressed so firmly against her own. Sweden makes to go to their room when the front door catches her eye and it dawns on her she's never actually carried Finland over the threshold-
"I appreciate the consideration," Finland speaks up abruptly, evidently reading her line of thought. "But if we take much longer I can tell you we are definitely not going to make it as far as the hallway, much less the bed." She pauses, restraining a tiny laugh. "Tomorrow, I promise."
"A'right," Sweden concedes, especially since Finland makes a valid point and she does want this rather badly herself. That's reflected in the speed with which she takes to their quarters, though the woman in her arms is deposited on the bed with total gentleness. Their eyes meet, a shiver that's half nerves and half need running down Sweden's spine. It's pleasantly warm in the room-Finland evidently taking the care to get the fire going and warming pans in the bed as was her usual wont-but goose bumps still rise up on her skin. Sweden tries to tell herself it's foolish to feel so nervous-Finland whom she's loved so long, wanted so long, is right in front of her and beyond her wildest dreams desires this too-yet she's seized with a sudden inability to move, not at all aided by the look of similar uncertainty the smaller Nation wears.
Suddenly, Finland releases a soft sigh and closes her eyes. For a terrifying moment Sweden thinks she's going to change her mind, when she then turns that beautiful violet gaze her way and gently beckons.
"Sve, it's okay. I'm nervous too," Finland admits, but her sweet smile is ease itself. "Just…come here, please?"
As if her words are laced with some irresistible order, Sweden finds herself doing just that. Though she's careful as she lies down next to Finland, the stiffness melts from her body when the other Nation reaches to gently stroke her face. The urge to kiss her is strong, not that Sweden bothers to resist. That energy goes instead to melding her mouth against the Finn's, taking her time to explore, to savor the sensation. Finland's fingers tangled in Sweden's unbound hair to tug her closer, her pleasure conveyed clearly by the hungry edge the kiss gains, the soft moan she makes as she parts her lips to invite the taller woman in. Sweden's hands wander before settling on Finland's full breasts, and even through her shirt and the corset she's wearing her pounding heart can easily be felt. Reluctantly parting from her to catch her breath, Sweden begins to slowly undo the buttons on Finland's top. She goes at that pace so as to give Finland time to raise an objection if need be, but she doesn't even as her face flushes to deep, dark red.
"S'fine?" Sweden asks, vaguely feeling something is bothering Finland and knows she wouldn't say anything on her own otherwise. She stops her fingers, trying not to let herself be distracted by the glorious display of creamy white skin and generous cleavage before her eyes.
"Y-yes," Finland replies quickly, her chest rising and falling. The look on her face is a mixture of enjoyment and unease, and a second later it becomes obvious why. "It feels really good, Sve…I just…well, I know they're large, and if people aren't staring they're just giving me a hard time about it-"
"They're beautiful," Sweden interrupts her gently, leaning down to nuzzle her neck. "Y'r beautiful. Always h've been."
"Who wouldn't feel beautiful, to have you look at them like that?" Finland laughs softly, but she relaxes once more before arching her back up slightly. Accepting the clear permission to continue, Sweden pulls her shirt off all the way before taking on the task of unlacing the firm knots holding the smaller Nation's corset in place.
It's not laced very tightly, more intended for support than to shape the figure, but Finland's breathing is growing rather short nonetheless. Sweden can sympathize with her on that-once she has the laces conquered to free Finland from the constrictive undergarment, the chemise beneath it quickly following, the sight of her bared form robs her of air and coherent thought. Finally she registers the way Finland's pouting up at her, and sends a questioning look in response.
"You too, Sve," Finland chides, one finger stroking the naked expanse of skin exposed by the untied parts of her shirt. "I want to see."
"S'not nearly as pr'tty as y'," Sweden mumbles, even as she leans into Finland's touch. "Scars n' such. Y'sh'ld know, from the baths n' so on."
"That's not true," Finland says, a hint of frustration coloring her tone. Her nimble hands work the remaining clasps of Sweden's shirt with far more swiftness than her own shift had been undone-but then, by now she must have been feeling quite a bit more urgent. "Not the scars, I mean-and you know I have my share of those too-even back when we all lived with Denmark…you did scare me. You were so much bigger and stronger than I was, and I really was only just a servant. But…I always thought you were so beautiful, at the same time." Finishing the task at hand, Finland lets Sweden's shirt slide down her shoulders and off her body, leaving only breast wrappings covering her chest. With the practiced motions of one who has often had to tie her own femininity back in such a manner, Finland unwraps the bindings, and continues, "Especially your eyes."
"M'eyes?" Sweden repeats, unable to help the surprise in her voice. She's never really thought of herself as special-indeed, compared to the dainty, almost fairy-like loveliness Finland possesses she just feels too tall and ungainly by far. She recalls the more vicious fights between herself and Denmark, the other nation ragging on that Sweden would have made a far better man than a woman. Not that Denmark really had much leeway to talk herself, considering they had both thought they were boys until they had hit the Nation equivalent of puberty, but sometimes she couldn't help but feel there was a little truth to the insult.
"Mm," Finland says, using the loosened wrappings as leverage to pull Sweden flush against her and into another kiss. "There are lots of things, but I think your eyes are my favorite."
Sweden shrugs, kisses her back and lets her hands trail down soft skin. Her progress is halted by the thick hose Finland still has on, something she is quite resolved to deal with immediately. "If y'like it, th't's all I need."
"Sve, you really-mmm…" Finland's reproachful tone dissipates into something far needier as Sweden peels the stockings off, a mad blush rising up on her face as she realizes that's all the other woman had on.
"Y'were on t'b'ttlefield like th't?" Sweden asks, unable to stop the question from escaping. Finland's blush nearly matches her own in intensity, but at the same time she's smiling. "N't wearin' any…"
"I usually don't," The other Nation replies, and Sweden's still so rattled she almost doesn't notice her long hose being unfastened, nor her fine linen drawers. Dropping them to the floor, Finland pushes the thick quilt covering the bed aside before pulling it over them both again. "I'm pretty strong against the cold, and it made things easier now, didn't it?"
Well, it'd be hard to argue with that even without Finland's hands on her backside driving her to distraction. A groan escapes her as the Finn gives a light squeeze, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. Then she bites down, ever so gently, and Sweden can't help the strangled moan that escapes her. Finland's soft giggle vibrates against her skin, and that alone triggers something within her. For all she adores the other Nation, she is still the Swedish Empire. She will not be conquered so easily.
Pinning her down effortlessly, Sweden nips Finland's ear before sucking at the bite. That action has the Finn's startled gasp melting into a hungry keening noise. She feels encouraged enough by this to trail downward, treating the sensitive line of her jaw to the same attention, then her pretty throat. Finland's pulse hammers even harder when Sweden presses her lips to it, and her skin is getting a pink flush to it that has nothing to do with the nearby fire.
"S-sve," Finland breathes out shakily, her body likewise trembling. Not from fear, or nerves, but sheer need. She looks up at Sweden, an intense plea written in her eyes. "Sve, I-"
"Shh. Got ya," Sweden murmurs, kissing down her neck to her collarbone. Finland makes a soft moan of pleasure she can't quite hide, arching up as her fingers grip the taller Nation's shoulders. She laves the delicate skin there, tasting warmth and something purely Finland. Sweden takes the time to trace Sverige with her tongue on soft flesh, an invisible brand to finally mark the other woman as hers. Finland stops breathing for a second, but Sweden doesn't even have a chance to wonder if she overstepped herself before she detects the hand now on her left shoulder blade. Right over where her heart is, she feels the letters that make up Suomi pressed into skin. Finland's touch is so hot it nearly burns, and stirs up memories of days the world was rich in magic and words themselves had the power to command…
"Witch-woman," Sweden whispers, nuzzling the soft swell of her breasts. "Y'bound m'to y' ages ago. Don' need t'do it again."
The sound Finland makes is somewhere between a laugh and a moan. "Is that so? When did I do that?"
"T'moment I f'rst saw y'," Sweden says honestly, and before the Finn can respond she slides her tongue across one stiff, rosy nipple. Finland's nails pinch into her back at that, her chest rising and falling with greater speed. Sweden pays it no mind, completely lost in the other Nation's body. The focus that has earned her such a sterling reputation in warfare is turned to the woman underneath her, registering what spots, what touches make her moan and shudder in need the most. She quickly discovers light, teasing contact winds Finland up almost as well as blatant touching, the gentle palming of her breast eliciting a cry nearly as loud as when she bites down at the flesh in her mouth just hard enough to feel good. By the time she switches from one soft mound to the other the Finn is panting, sweat starting to bead on her flushed frame.
"Please…S-sve," Finland gasps as Sweden turns her attention away from slick breasts dotted here and there with bite marks-with her bite marks-to go lower. As she presses kisses over the other woman's stomach she thinks only Finland could possibly manage to sound so erotic yet cute at the same time. Frankly, it's driving her crazy, and even without any attention to her own need she's wet and aching with arousal. It's that sensitivity that makes Sweden jolt when Finland shifts to brush her foot up the taller Nation's leg, even such a simple motion evoking a strong reaction. "It's not-ahhhh….-fair t-that you're doing all the touching."
Sweden pauses above the small patch of sandy blonde curls covering damp folds, dimly realizing Finland was right. "S'rry. Y'r just…so pr'tty I lost c'ntrol."
Silence. She glances up to see Finland smiling down on her with such tenderness it takes her breath away. One small hand brushes through her hair, and just that delicate stroking melts what little awareness she has away.
"I should have known," Finland's voice is as soft and gentle as her touch, even with the hint of exasperation buried in it. "How is it you always manage to win?" She shakes her head, halting Sweden's response with the light press of her index finger to the taller Nation's mouth. "Go ahead then. Just bear in mind it'll be my turn next time."
"…'s fine b'me," Sweden says, the tiniest of smiles warring with her straight face. How many hundreds of years will pass before Finland realizes she's never had the ability to say no to her? But that's just part of the other Nation's charm. Her gaze flicks back down to the tempting sight before her, and the Swede can't stop her sharp intake of air.
"Beautiful," The word spills from her without a single thought-it seems the truest and most natural thing in the world to say. She runs her fingers along those silken-soft thighs, feeling the Finn shiver from her touch.
"Nn…no, it isn't…SveeEEH-!" Finland yelps as Sweden bites high up on her inner thigh, licking at the now-bruised flesh after releasing it from her teeth. Normally, such a reaction from the other woman would have her worrying she had done something wrong, but the surprisingly lustful tone Finland's voice is laced with only compels her on. Her last thread of self-restraint snapping, Sweden spreads glistening pink folds with gentleness at odds with the urgency she's feeling. Bowing her head slightly, she traces the divide of Finland's body, savoring her before plunging in with abandon.
The smaller Nation actually cries out at that, her speech an incomprehensible mixture of Finnish and Swedish. Even if those words weren't clearly hot with desire, the hips rocking up in need along with the fingers tangling and tightening in Sweden's hair convey the Finn's feelings perfectly. Wetness was flowing freely from her now, the taste sweetly musky and unlike anything she's experienced. But it's not bad, and moreover shows just how strongly Finland is feeling pleasure at the moment. That alone makes it something to treasure.
"S-sve…!" Finland half-sobs, half-moans, her shapely legs locking around Sweden's neck to pull her closer. It encourages Sweden to pick up the pace, moving her tongue faster before focusing on the small, hard nub at the apex of Finland's folds. The other woman bucks up with a small scream at that, leading Sweden to sucking at it more intensely. It isn't long after that till Finland surrenders to the ecstasy overwhelming her body. Her back arches up as she comes, crying out Sweden's name with such passion it steals her heart and mind away in an instant.
Finland is still succumbing to the orgasm washing over her with little shudders, her lips parted enticingly as she pants for breath. By now her legs have loosened enough Sweden can move herself up to lay beside the smaller Nation, just drinking in the beautiful sight in front of her. Even her best dreams are nothing compared to the reality of Finland like this, bare and flushed with her eyes still hazed over in bliss. They focus a bit as she turns to look up at Sweden, mouth curving up into a small but very pleased smile.
"As I thought, you did leave your glasses on," Finland murmurs, plucking the object in question off Sweden's face before pulling her into a long, slow kiss. Automatically, Sweden's arms wrap around Finland as their tongues twist hotly together. She doesn't part from her wife until her lungs burn too desperately for air not to, and even then she manages to nip the Finn's full lower lip as she pulls reluctantly away.
"…s'not a problem, 's it?" Sweden asks, tone much shakier than normal. She's not truly at fault for that, though-Finland's greedily questing hands groping her ass has that effect on her.
"Mm…" Finland practically purrs, fingers trailing to rub against a part of Sweden's anatomy that has her gasping in heady need. "Not exactly, but I like it more when I can see your eyes, Sve. They really are beautiful, you know."
"A-ah…Fin-" It's getting really hard to think by this point, much less speak straight.
"I know I said to go ahead, but I'm still jealous," Finland continues, both in speech and actions. That sweet smile is still there on her face, but it's definitely gained a certain wicked quality it hadn't possessed earlier. "Because I wanted to touch you back so badly, and I didn't get the chance to." In an act Sweden isn't sure to call a mercy or not, she pulls her hand away and back up, wiggling now-glistening fingers in front of her face. "It seems like you really need it too, hm?"
Sweden's jaw falls open a bit as Finland slowly, deliberately sucks her fingers off one by one. Her cheeks are flushing pink, but the noises she makes are unmistakably ones of savoring. She first thinks that Finland is seriously trying to drive her insane, and a second later wonders if she's already succeeded.
"How interesting…it's different from mine, Sve's taste…" Finland's voice is pure husky sensuality, and so natural and unselfconscious the taller Nation trembles at the sound of it. "But it's really good…" Another smoldering smile is sent Sweden's way before she finds the Finn's leg between hers, braced directly against her core. Stimulated as she is without any attention to her own need, Sweden shudders hard and feels her whole body clench up from that alone. "You'll oblige me since I want more, right?"
"Anythin' y'want," Sweden gasps, her eyes nearly rolling back in her head as Finland starts grinding her leg back and forth, pleasure spiking through her with white-hot intensity. Even now though she can't leave her wife unattended to, and her hand slips between the Finn's legs, two of her fingers sliding to penetrate her drenched slit. It's so tight it takes her by surprise, but Finland is wet enough that she moves without too much trouble, until-
Resistance. Sweden's eyes widen as realization strikes, and the flash of pain on Finland's face only confirms her suspicions.
"Y'still h've…" Sweden begins awkwardly, temporarily distracted from the desire filling her body. Finland blushes bright crimson, nodding even as her eyebrows furrow into a tiny frown.
"Of course I do," Finland says. "T-there hasn't been anyone else but you, Sve." There's an unspoken query in that statement, one that Sweden finds herself rushing to answer. She can't stand to have Finland think it was otherwise for her, even for a second.
"Tore m'ne ages ago. Too m'ch activity…h'rseb'ck ridin', raidin', war-" Sweden responds quickly, calming down when she sees Finland's hurt expression ease once more. "'m s'rry. Wanted t'give it t'y-"
Finland's kiss silences her in a way that's very much welcome. Clasping the taller Nation's face in her hands, she lets their foreheads rest together. "No, I'm the one who's sorry. I should have more faith in you. But…please do it now. If it's you, even pain is alright."
Sweden's throat closes up painfully at that, at the trust in Finland's eyes. She hesitates for a moment, because despite the other woman's consent, the thought of hurting her is an unbearable one. Sweden takes a deep breath of preparation, biting her lip as she feels Finland forcing herself to relax, before pushing her fingers through the Finn's maidenhead with a little pop of pressure. Finland hisses, her nails digging hard into Sweden's shoulders in a way she welcomes as penance. They stay still like that, utterly unmoving for what feels like a small eternity.
"T-that wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," Finland speaks up, giving Sweden a weak smile. "I thought it would hurt a lot more than that." It gains some strength when she sees the guilty look on the taller Nation's face, and her voice is steady as she nuzzles Sweden's throat tenderly. "It's okay, Sve. I wanted you to have it. I'm…I'm really yours, now."
Those words are her salvation. The self-loathing that had filled Sweden vanishes like the morning mist in the face of the sun. She brushes her lips against Finland's temple in thanks, and simply tells her, "Just s'y when y'r ready."
Finland nods and moves her hips gently, the cheeks gone pale in pain now flushing with arousal. "I-I think I am." The gasp she lets out is one of enjoyment when Sweden flexes her fingers carefully, testing the Finn's readiness. Her concerns assuaged, Sweden moves her fingers more boldly, feeling the other woman's body tighten up around her fingers. The digits start to pump with greater speed, their owner putting the full sum of her focus on pleasuring her wife.
Not that Finland is just lying back idly. Now that her recovery is complete, she turns her attention to evening the score between herself and Sweden. Her leg rocks against the taller Nation's center once more, the friction building up with tantalizing speed as she trails biting kisses along her shoulder. Going so long without any sort of relief as she has, it isn't long until Sweden feels her inner muscles starting to clench up as she grows close. It just spurs her to pick up her own pace, to bring Finland to the same levels of dizzying pleasure she is feeling. Judging from the needy cries Finland was letting out as she writhed beneath her, it is definitely working.
"Fin-" Sweden gasps out, toes curling as stars start to spark at the edge of her vision. "Fin, 'm-"
Finland grinds harder against her, pulling Sweden's mouth to hers to meld them together hard and fast. "G-go ahead, Sve. I-I'm almost t-there."
The sounds of feverish breathing and moaning rose up in the air as both women grow close to release. With her final fragment of focus, Sweden moves up her thumb to rub at Finland's point of weakness while thrusting her fingers faster still. She keeps at it even as white-hot lightening thrums through her body, breaking her utterly apart and putting her back together again all in the same instance. Sweden's vision is blurred from both her release and lack of glasses, but she can still make out the Finn rocking once, twice more against her hand. She can hear perfectly her name being screamed in pleasure, feel the other woman clinch up before soaking her fingers with molten heat.
Sated as she is, Finland and her comfort are still first on Sweden's mind. Pulling her hand out of the smaller Nation, she rolls off her and to the side. The blood staining her fingers sends a deep pulse of guilt flaring up in her heart, but she decides to set her feelings about it aside for the time. It wouldn't make Finland happy, and that is what's most important. Wiping her hand on the sheets, she pulls her wife into her arms. The Finn makes a content little sigh, her body warm and relaxed against Sweden's. The activity has made one of her braids fall out of its loose plait, and the Swede finds herself lazily undoing the other one to match. Finland's ash-blonde hair shines like liquid gold in the firelight, and the sight of it reminds Sweden of a marital duty she has yet to attend to.
"Y'r dower," Sweden yawns, stroking the Finn's soft locks absently. "Th'nk on wh't y'want. F'r t'mornin'." Sleepiness is beginning to overcome her, and what little energy she has is rapidly draining away. She snuffs out the candles on her side of the bed, rending their quarters comfortably dark.
Finland's light chuckle rings out of the dimness, and Sweden can barely make out the curve of her smile with her weak vision. "Alright, Sve."
That's enough for Sweden in her tired state. The moniker 'Lioness of Scandinavia' does not just apply to her strength in war-she's always slept as deeply as the big cat, all but dead to the world. Burying her face in the sweet crook of Finland's neck, she nods off quickly, the happiest she has been in a long, long time.
Sweden never finds out what she misses because of it. Finland waits, still and awake as the candles dwindle down, until she is absolutely sure Sweden is fast asleep. The smaller Nation sits up, careful not to disturb the slumbering Swede.
"I love you, Sve," Finland whispers, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. Her lips tilt into a small smile as she sighs. "Someday I'll work up the nerve to say it to your face."
Blowing out the last of the candles, she settles back into the taller Nation's arms and drifts off to sleep.
Helsinki, 2009
Finland really does enjoy watching Sweden in the depths of some crafting project. Not for the work so much as the woman herself, holding herself with the calm confidence of one whose skill is without question. It isn't just that-her focused face, brows knit in concentration and mouth set in a steady line-is really terribly cute.
This all crosses her mind as Sweden leans over the armoire, some woodworking tool Finland couldn't name for the life of her in hand. Even knowing how good the tall blonde is, she still finds herself impressed. The two-hundredth anniversary of the Finnish War is fast approaching, and the piece of furniture itself is only a year younger than it-a gift from Estonia when Finland had first become a part of Russia's house. It's true, there are some painful memories they both still associate with that time, but Sweden's craftsman soul wouldn't let her leave a good piece like the pine wardrobe not properly restored. Seeing as it had kept her belongings through so much, Finland couldn't help but agree it would be a shame to let her friend's gift fall into disrepair. So here they find themselves, in a rare moment of peace amidst the preparations Finland's boss has been insistent about attending to.
Sweden is finished doing….whatever on earth the tool was intended for, and is now fidgeting experimentally with the pine backing. Judging from the pots of varnish and brushes nearby, she's just checking to make sure everything else is finished before going on to that final step. Finland keeps watching, admiring the steady motion of the Swede's hands. Then Sweden bends over to pick up some other object Finland can't name, and she finds her gaze drifting…lower…
She really needs to find out where Sweden got those jeans. H & M, probably. Well, the place doesn't matter to Finland so much as the perfect way they mold to Sve's extremely nice backside. And really, she's not a pervert for noticing no matter what Denmark (...And England. And Hungary. And France, especially) keep accusing her of being. It shouldn't even count if all her attention is only directed at one person. Besides, to not properly appreciate something so flawless would be a crime. Never mind that if she caught anyone else doing some 'appreciating' Sweden's way, they'd find themselves at the barrel-end of her favorite hunting rifle. But yes, when she's doing the looking, it's alright.
Which is the only reason she's disappointed when Sweden straightens up abruptly, frowning at the antique before her. Finland stops her staring to glance at the armoire herself, wondering what made the other woman react like that.
"Sve? Is something wrong?" Finland asks, walking to stand beside her partner. She circles the piece, not sure what could possibly be the problem-it looks perfectly fine to her eyes. Sweden doesn't respond for a second, pulling her glasses off and wiping them before setting the frames back on her nose.
"…'s f'lse," Sweden says, rapping the wood lightly. "P'rt of t'back."
"Ah?" Finland tilts her head-she doesn't recall anything like that, but then she's had it in storage since 1917. With everything else that had been going on, she hadn't really thought about it. That there was some hiding spot that slipped her mind wouldn't be surprising.
"Y'h…lesse…" Sweden crouches down, frowning so intensely at the front drawers Finland kind of wants to cringe on their behalf. "S'me sort of air-m'chan'sm…" She pulls at the top and bottom drawers simultaneously, ignoring the middle one, before pushing them shut again. As if by magic, a second later a panel pops out of the back, hidden so cleverly in the woodwork Finland doubts she could have spotted it even after having it pointed out to her.
"It's like Estonia to think of something so practical," Finland comments, walking around to take a look at the secret compartment. "When you live with Russia, a little privacy is worth more than-" She stops midsentence, spotting a small silk bag tucked in the very back of the panel, so tiny it could easily fit in the palm of her hand. Reaching out with trembling fingers, she picks it up. Her throat is dry and her eyes growing wet as she looks down at the sachet. Finland remembers now, what she had hidden away in the armoire, so long ago even she had forgotten about it.
"Fin?" Sweden asks as she rises to her full height, looking worried when she sees the expression on Finland's face. In response, the Finn opens up the bag and pulls on the only object contained within it. Sweden freezes in place upon seeing it, and for a minute time itself seems to stop.
Even almost four hundred years after it had been forged for her, the gold of her wedding ring still shines brightly. The morgongåva she had asked Sweden for, the day after they had finally consummated their relationship. It had been given to her when the other Nation had just begun to enter the peak of her power as the Swedish Empire, but rather than the overly-ornate and ostentatious style that had been popular at the time, it was elegant and understated. The round blue diamond in the center, the one that so resembles Sweden's eyes in color, is still beautifully flanked by tiny white diamonds and pearls set in a pure gold band. Finland gently rubs the inner circle of the band, the indentations of the engraving inside undiminished by time. To my love on the other side of the sea, it reads in carefully inscribed Swedish, written in there by Sweden after she had finished making the ring with her own hands.
"Back then…Russia had practically everything I had of yours destroyed," Finland speaks up, voice quiet in memory. "She would have gotten rid of this too if I hadn't managed to hide it. But I couldn't just keep it in a jewelry box, so when Estonia gave me that armoire I hid it in there." She exhales, moving her hand so the light hits the center stone. It glows like the ocean under the sun, part of the reason she had treasured her ring so much, that object that was so much like having Sweden with her always. "There was too much risk of her finding it, so I just let it be the entire time…and then so much happened after I became independent I just forget I had it hidden-"
Sweden's arms pulling her into a tight, desperate embrace cut her off. Clasping her ring firmly, Finland holds her close in turn.
"Th'ght y'got rid of 't," Sweden says in a hoarse voice. Pressed against her as she is, Finland can feel her heart pounding like she just ran a distance-something her own body is experiencing as well.
"Well, I can't say I wasn't upset with you at the time," Finland murmurs, causing Sweden to flinch. She places a hand on the small of the other woman's back, rubbing with a soothing motion. "But…it never changes. No matter what, through everything that's happened…I just can't let you go. I can't survive without my heart."
Sweden's sigh stirs the hair at the crown of Finland's head, but her body loses some of its rigidity so she doesn't worry. "Y'can. Got m'ne, after all."
Finland can't stop the smile that blossoms on her face-that is such a Sweden thing to say, sweet and honest and just a little strange-and the heavy mood in the room lightens up. "We'll just have to keep staying together, then."
"Y'h," Sweden agrees in her most serious yet secretly playful tone, dropping a kiss, then two for good measure against Finland's hair where her mouth rests. They remain like that, just enjoying the moment before Finland slowly pulls away. Upon the questioning gaze she receives from the taller Nation, Finland holds out the palm of her hand where the ring still rests.
"Help me put it on?" Finland requests, feeling her face grow warm. Her heart is beating nervously, but she knows where she wants the ring to go. Half the decision rests with Sweden, though, so it's only right to ask her. Sweden nods slowly and takes it, but hesitation is clear in her eyes.
"Y'sure?" She finally says, palming the band delicately.
"Yes," Finland answers simply, smiling up at Sweden. "We're Nations, but we're people too. I think it's fine if it's just between us. Even our kind has the right to some personal choice."
Sweden doesn't say anything back, but then she doesn't really need to. Not with Finland. In any case, her actions are clear enough as she gently lifts up the Finn's left hand and slides the piece of jewelry onto her ring finger. It fits perfectly as it had centuries ago, and for a heartbeat's time it feels like she never took it off.
"I really should get it properly cleaned though," Finland muses as Sweden still holds her hand. "You made it so well it held up through the years, but I want to take…" She trails off at the look the tall blonde is sending her way, her heart pounding hard again. She licks her lips as Sweden steps closer, pleasant tension starting to fill her body. "Sve?"
"W'sn't done," Sweden responds by way of explanation. Finland gets no more than that, but as the Swede pulls her into a kiss that has her knees grow weak in an instant, it's not like she really needs it. Closing her eyes, she melts against Sweden and just lets the sensation that's so familiar yet never tiresome take her away.
"Mama! Papa! Can-" The bright young voice halts abruptly, Finland and Sweden quickly pulling away from each other to see Sealand looking at them with a face like she isn't sure whether to be grossed out, embarrassed, or something else entirely.
"S-sea! I-" Finland blushes bright red, not quite sure how to handle this. She likes kids, always has, but fondness for children doesn't always translate to knowing the best thing to do as a parent. Beside her, she can spot Sweden's face going immobile, and realizes she's getting no help on that front. She's rattled enough she doesn't even try to remind Sealand, for what has to be the millionth time, that Sweden isn't a man and by extension not a father. "We, uh-"
"It's alright," Sealand says with a child's ability to move past the strange world of adults, twirling one of the pigtails so like England's around her finger. "I just wanted to know if I could go over to Latvia's to play."
"To Latvia's?" Finland repeats, her steady tone at odds with the shakiness she's still feeling. "If it's fine with Sve, sure."
They both look Sweden's way, the blonde giving one of her minimal shrugs. "Spendin' t'n'ght?"
"Yeah!" Sealand exclaims excitedly. Finland can't even remember the last time she had that much youthful enthusiasm herself as the micronation bounces in place. "I got this really awesome game, and we're going to watch a movie, and-"
"Yes, yes," Finland straightens Sealand's hat where it's gone askew on her head, noticing the overnight bag slung over her shoulder. "If you're already packed you may as well. Just call when you get there, okay?"
"Kay," Sealand chirps, pirouetting on her heel to hug Finland, then Sweden. She heads for the door before pausing and turning back with a gleam in her eyes that reminds Finland all too much of England's pirate days-for all Sealand sulks about it, it's obvious whose sister she is. "Hey, Papa?"
"Mm?" Sweden lifts her brows, inviting their daughter to continue.
"If it's possible, could you aim for a sister?" Sealand continues in a hopeful tone. Finland turns even redder at that, her mouth opening and shutting as words fail her. It doesn't help that Sweden actually nods, face totally sincere.
"I'll do m'best, then," Sweden says, leaving Finland to gape at her while Sealand claps excitedly before taking her leave.
"W-wait-! Sea!" Finland stammers to empty space. She spins to look up at Sweden. "Sve, you shouldn't joke like that!"
"…joke?" Sweden echoes. Finland slumps at that, wondering to herself how it was possible for the Swede to keep forgetting the basic laws of biology (as much as they even apply to Nations), not to mention her own gender. Somehow, in some way, she knew this was all Germania's fault.
"Never mind," Finland sighs. Maybe she should just accept it as just a quirk of Sweden's personality-it's not like she doesn't have her own. But really, this family was gender-confused enough. Lost in thought as she is, it takes a second for her to register Sweden easily scooping her up into a bridal carry. "Sve!"
"Said I'd do m'best," Sweden reminds her, rather unfairly robbing Finland of the ability to respond-or do anything but let out a soft moan-as she bites at a very sensitive spot on her throat.
"B…but…" Finland shivers at the warm, wet touch of Sweden's tongue against the bite-mark. It's already too late, though. She knows, as she's sure Sve does, that this is a battle she's destined to lose. And well, she can't say she doesn't enjoy the trying part. "F-fine…mm…"
"Good," Sweden gives one of her silent chuckles, the action vibrating against Finland's skin. It feels like only an instant before she reaches their room, kicking open the door with her foot. "Lookin' f'rward t'seein' y' in only y'r ring."
"Ah…S-sve…"
Fin
Author's Notes: Not much this time around-doesn't help that my much beloved Swedish-Polish War strips are…not the most historically accurate, orz. BUT SUFIN FLUFF WHO CARES AMIRITE? -righteously bricked-
-Everyone is genderbent here.
-As in my previous fill, I've gone with "Sve" from "Sverige", rather than Su-san, much as I love it.
- morgongåva, or "morning gift", was traditionally given to the bride from the groom after the wedding night (i.e., the marriage was officially consummated and the bride proved a virgin) as a way of making sure she was provided for should anything happen to the groom.
-Yes, Sweden thinks of herself as the husband and Finland as the wife. Su-san never gets it right no matter what.
-I'm not exactly sure about the year the Polish-Swedish Wars strip takes place in, but I settled on 1629 for lack of anything better/more official. Sweden would have just gotten out of the rather nasty Kalmar War with Denmark-Norway a few years ago (which I'm sure Denmark was totally gracious and not sore-winner-y about) in which her arse was kicked and then she had to pay lots of reparations, but she's bouncing back nicely and is if not already the Swedish Empire, at least in the early stages of it. An Empirette?
-1809 marked the end of the Finnish War and Finland's annexation into Russia. They just had the 200th Anniversary of this last year, and the phrase on the commemorative coins of the Finnish War released on the Swedish 1 Krona for that year (Den underbara sagan om ett land på andra sidan hafvet ("The wonderful story of a land on the other side of the sea") is echoed by the engraving inside Finland's ring. I didn't put it in actual Swedish because I've abused that country enough without subjecting them to Babelfish raep in the bargain. I only hit you cause I love you, baby!
-On the subject of Finland's ring, in Sweden the wedding ring is traditionally worn on the left hand ring finger. It's also a bit opposite from America in (at least according to the research I found-thanks, internet!) the engagement band is plainer while the wedding band is more ornate. So there you go.
-Non-historical, but a few of my genderbent head!canons snuck in here, which I hope everyone is okay with. Mainly that girl!Sweden/girl!Finland have a more open relationship (much more open, I should say) than man!Sweden/man!Finland (who really need to get with the program here), girl!Finland has the largest chest of the girl!Nordics and is also something of a covert pervert where Sweden is involved (with a hawt girlfriend like that, can you blame her? -UNF-), and girl!Sweden was raised (along with girl!Denmark) as a boy by girl!Germania (Girlmania?) and we get the Hungary-esque scenario of neither of them realizing the truth till they grew boobs hit puberty (which I am so going to fic). Lulz for everyone! And that's it for the parenthesis abuse, promise.
-H & M is a Swedish clothing company. For some reason, this along with IKEA makes me lol. Sweden conquering the world through subtle commerce is just amusing, I guess.
I think that's it as far as notes, but just let me know if there's something I missed/got wrong/other and I'll answer as best I can.