Say It (Aloud) 3/?
anonymous
September 20 2009, 05:26:35 UTC
First of all, I want to thank everyone who commented. Anons are always there to make me smile. ^ ^ Second, I forgot to mention that, ah...This fill is both my first time writing dirty talk, and my first time writing daddykink. So very akward... Third, I wish to apologize for how slowly this fill may be updated, and how sometimes it most likely won't make any sense. My writing has become more and more incoherent of late. --- America's face, though already quite warm and red, heated up further as they continued. It wasn't as though he hadn't had his suspicions, but England's response when he called him Daddy was surprising nonetheless. The change in his stance-in his eyes-was only slight, but America had been raised under England's careful watch, and in turn had carefully watched England for all those years.
It was mortifying, really. Even as a child, he had called England by his name; not Dad, not Daddy, not Father. It was embarassing, not to mention a little disturbing, to whimper the word; to find England aroused by him whimpering the word. Even worse, to find himself aroused by finding England aroused by his whimpering of a word he had narry ever uttered.
Of course, there was the fact that England's hands (and knee) seemed to have minds of their own. That only added to it.
"Alfred," England was saying, but America was a little lost in the skinworship he was currently receiving. "Alfred, you're shaking..."
America pryed open his eyes, disappointed that England had stopped, and gazed up at the older male from beneathe golden lashes. Gears turning, he caught his bottom lip between his teeth. "I'm...scared, Daddy." He began to surreptitiously slide one of his legs up along England's. England took in a shuddering breath, stroked his hair, kissed him chastely.
"There's no need to be frightened...I won't hurt you..."
It was all too gentle. America turned his head, eyes locked on England's dilated pupils. "I'm not scared of Daddy, though," he said slowly, carefully drawing out each syllable. "'Cause--"
"Say it again."
"What?"
"Say. It. Again," England panted, his grip on America's still-clothed leg tightening.
"...Daddy?"
"Yes," England breathed, long and hungry. "Tell me...what you want me to do to you."
A wave of electricity tore through America's body. He couldn't keep the smile from his face as he carefully chose his words. "Take me, Daddy." He watched England inhale through his nose. "Take me and make me yours. Mark me. Violate me as you never dared when I was little." England gazed at him through glazed, half-lidded eyes. America smirked inwardly, leaned up to press against his father figure, and murmured, lips against the skin of his throat, "C'mon."
England gave in. --- ...Not that he was just going to, say, leave in the middle to begin with. *fwump*
Second, I forgot to mention that, ah...This fill is both my first time writing dirty talk, and my first time writing daddykink. So very akward...
Third, I wish to apologize for how slowly this fill may be updated, and how sometimes it most likely won't make any sense. My writing has become more and more incoherent of late.
---
America's face, though already quite warm and red, heated up further as they continued. It wasn't as though he hadn't had his suspicions, but England's response when he called him Daddy was surprising nonetheless. The change in his stance-in his eyes-was only slight, but America had been raised under England's careful watch, and in turn had carefully watched England for all those years.
It was mortifying, really. Even as a child, he had called England by his name; not Dad, not Daddy, not Father. It was embarassing, not to mention a little disturbing, to whimper the word; to find England aroused by him whimpering the word. Even worse, to find himself aroused by finding England aroused by his whimpering of a word he had narry ever uttered.
Of course, there was the fact that England's hands (and knee) seemed to have minds of their own. That only added to it.
"Alfred," England was saying, but America was a little lost in the skinworship he was currently receiving. "Alfred, you're shaking..."
America pryed open his eyes, disappointed that England had stopped, and gazed up at the older male from beneathe golden lashes. Gears turning, he caught his bottom lip between his teeth. "I'm...scared, Daddy." He began to surreptitiously slide one of his legs up along England's. England took in a shuddering breath, stroked his hair, kissed him chastely.
"There's no need to be frightened...I won't hurt you..."
It was all too gentle. America turned his head, eyes locked on England's dilated pupils. "I'm not scared of Daddy, though," he said slowly, carefully drawing out each syllable. "'Cause--"
"Say it again."
"What?"
"Say. It. Again," England panted, his grip on America's still-clothed leg tightening.
"...Daddy?"
"Yes," England breathed, long and hungry. "Tell me...what you want me to do to you."
A wave of electricity tore through America's body. He couldn't keep the smile from his face as he carefully chose his words. "Take me, Daddy." He watched England inhale through his nose. "Take me and make me yours. Mark me. Violate me as you never dared when I was little." England gazed at him through glazed, half-lidded eyes. America smirked inwardly, leaned up to press against his father figure, and murmured, lips against the skin of his throat, "C'mon."
England gave in.
---
...Not that he was just going to, say, leave in the middle to begin with. *fwump*
Reply
Take your time updating. And I find it coherent enough for me~ Ahahaha.
Please continue!
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment