In Which Flattery Gets You Everywhere (1/4-ish or maybe more)
anonymous
May 7 2010, 08:58:06 UTC
By popular demand, a sequel. Smutty and hopefully fun. :) ---
It was somewhat of a mystery to England how he’d managed to go from assertively groping America in the doorway of his hotel to flat on his back, but it had apparently happened. Whatever mode of transportation had got him there, it hadn’t involved America talking, and for that, England was eternally grateful. Instead, America had started mouthing at his neck somewhere along the way and was at this point trailing up toward England’s mouth.
The smaller blonde groaned and wriggled against America’s body weight pressed down against him. With a slight turn of his head, America’s lips were within reach and England took full advantage. America was holding him still, hands placed strategically so that England didn’t particularly want to move away from them, but it was England who won the battle between their mouths.
England tongued his way into America’s mouth, dovetailing their lips together and exploring every inch of the American. The younger nation moaned into England’s mouth, letting the more experienced of the two lead in that particular area. Eventually they had to part, both breathing heavily, and America rested his forehead lightly against England’s, giving him a slightly open-mouthed smile.
“Hey,” he panted against England’s skin. “I hope you know CPR, ‘cause you take my breath away.”
Of course it had been too good to be true, England thought despairingly. “Please, for the love of all that is good, just let the cheesy lines die.” He began tugging up on America’s shirt in an effort to both get him out of his clothes and onto a more productive subject.
“Aw, c’mon, Iggy,” he replied, sitting up to strip off his shirt. “Why do I gotta stop when one of ‘em actually worked?”
England growled, refusing to be distracted from his anger even in the face of an extremely aesthetically pleasing view of America sans shirt. “Because if you don’t keep your mouth shut and get on with it, I will leave and you won’t be able to actually count this as a success.” An empty threat, but he could still hope America would believe it.
Apparently enough blood was flowing south that America didn’t have the brain power to catch England’s lack of conviction. Instead, he leaned down to kiss England thoroughly, fingers working quickly at the man’s shirt buttons. England moaned his approval, hands twisting in America’s hair to hold him in close range. Within moments, America had his shirt off, lifting England’s body so he could slip free of the sleeves. The larger blonde sat up, moving so that England was placed on his lap, arms still around America’s shoulders.
America pulled back and stroked his hands down England’s sides, eyes following the same downward pattern across England’s torso. “Can I have one more?”
It took England a few seconds to figure out what America was asking about, and when he did, he rolled his eyes. “Fine, but this had better be the last one, and it had better be a damn good line.”
The younger blonde smiled wide and his lips cruised over England’s cheek to put his mouth to the Briton’s ear before he spoke. “You are so beautiful the sun is too jealous to shine.” If England had thought America had a literary bone in his body, he might have accused him of mutilating one of Shakespeare’s lines, but knowing America, he had probably made that one up purely on his own. It sounded too honest to be plagiarized. The thought made England’s eyes water frighteningly, so he fought against the rising tide of emotion by pulling America forward to ravage his mouth.
America didn’t protest, but he didn’t stop petting England’s skin either. He’d unbuttoned England’s slacks and the pair were just slightly rutting against each other by the time England released his lips.
“Thank you,” he said, a little breathless. “Now that you’ve picked me up, can we get on to the shagging bit? I was under the impression one-night stands were rather fast-paced affairs.”
In Which Flattery Gets You Everywhere (2/4-ish or maybe more)
anonymous
May 7 2010, 09:02:19 UTC
America made a noncommittal noise, his hands splaying over England’s stomach and all his movements slowing. England knew unhappiness when he saw it, and if he let America continue this way, he had as much chance as a snowball in hell of things moving between the sheets. In the interest of getting laid, he chose to revert into paternal mode and lifted America’s face with a hand under his chin.
“What’s all this now?” To give America credit, he didn’t avoid England’s eyes, but rather watched him closely. “What’s got you frowning like that? You’ve got a half-naked bloke here about to jump in bed with you, you shouldn’t be upset.”
“Can you stay?” After a moment and merely as an effort not to sound too needy, he added, “In the morning, I mean.”
England was silent for a few seconds. “Can you not hit on the rest of the world?”
“Well, I gotta mess with somebody,” America replied, recognizing the veiled /yes/.
The older nation affected a put-upon sigh. “I suppose I can sacrifice my well-being for the safety of others.” America smirked in a way that said England would now be carrying /all/ the horrible pickup lines America might have used on innocent bystanders. “There’s going to be a lot of one-night stands in the future aren’t there?”
America snorted. “Dude, kinda defeats the purpose if it’s more than one night,” he pointed out astutely.
“Mere formalities,” England quipped. “Now for god’s sake, will you get out of your trousers already?”
“Whatever you want, babe.” With that, he tipped England back and followed his descent to hover over the smaller man.
“Don’t even start that,” England ordered. Clearly he didn’t mean America’s task of getting off the rest of their clothes, seeing as he lifted his hips to help when needed.
Somehow America managed to wear a shit-eating grin even as he stroked a finger up the length of England’s vital regions. “But pet names are so cute.” He leaned down, hand closing around England, as they once again shared breathing space. “You can call me love if you want. It’d sound all British and adorable.”
The Briton couldn’t find the motivation to properly snap at him with his hips jerking up into America’s hand, so he settled for telling him to shut up instead. America took it to heart and set his mouth to better use, kissing and licking a long trail from England’s neck to his stomach. He made pit stops everywhere, giving special attention to the smaller blonde’s nipples and belly button, then going back up to mouth at his pulse point.
“Alfred,” England groaned, grabbing at the man’s hair. The intimate use of his human name made America bite down where he’d been laving at England’s neck, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about the mark it was sure to leave.
“Yeah?” he panted.
“Tell me you’ve got lube or something.” England huffed out a breath against America’s mouth, kissing him briefly just because he could. “I’m not going to be able to worry about it much longer.”
“Um,” the younger nation started awkwardly. “I wasn’t actually, y’know, planning on you showing up, so…”
England seemed to debate with himself for a while. “On your back,” he ordered after it seemed he’d reached a decision.
“What? But I-”
“Just do it,” England snapped. “We’re not doing this dry and you won’t do it right. Get on your back.”
Uncertain, America followed his instructions, but kept a wary eye on England. His worries quickly flew out the window, however, when England’s mouth descended on him. America gasped instead, the exhale turning into a wordless expression of approval that also might have been a call-out to god, America wasn’t really sure.
Sadly, England backed away after only a few seconds, grinning in an expression that looked almost too American for him. “Well, I suppose you /can/ be invaded then, can’t you?”
In Which Flattery Gets You Everywhere (3/4)
anonymous
May 7 2010, 09:06:14 UTC
“Yeah, uh-huh,” America agreed quickly. “Don’t stop.” England gave him an exasperated stare, but continued on his work, England’s actions providing the lubricant they unfortunately didn’t have on hand. When he thought America was properly slicked up (and probably couldn’t stand much more, judging by how hard he was trying not to thrust up into England’s mouth), England pulled him up and over, laying back down and taking one of America’s hands to give his fingers a similar treatment.
“Fuck,” America nearly whispered, eyes glued to England’s mouth as his tongue worked over and between America’s digits. “D’you actually register how hot you are? I mean, in public you’re… But /damn/, England.”
The Briton looked properly smug, ego stroked, and released America’s hand. “You’re not bad yourself. Of course, it might improve my opinion if you get a move on.”
America smiled and moved England’s legs apart. “As you wish.” And they both knew what reference he was making.
Mentally prepared as he was, England still made a bit of noise as America’s fingers probed him, only really uncomfortable when the taller blonde pushed a third inside. America kept up an effective distraction with one hand brushing over the inside England’s knee and his mouth pressing kisses to any part of England’s face, neck, and torso he could reach.
“Just do it,” England grunted when America lingered at three fingers. “I know you like to dawdle, but-”
“Shh.” America’s brow furrowed in concentration and he shifted England’s leg where he held it away for more room. “Just give me a sec…” England considered yelling at him, and had reached three in the countdown until he threw a slight bitchfit at America’s slowness when America quite obviously achieved his goal. England felt his spine arch and lock momentarily as America’s fingers pushed deep enough to hit his prostate.
“Yes!” America cheered triumphantly, looking for all the world like he’d just won a sporting event or something equally stupid.
“Alright,” England panted when shocks of pleasure stopped coursing through him quite so forcefully. “Yes, marvelous. Just come /on/!” America continued to smile in his triumph, moving to kiss England as his fingers slipped from him. The Briton clung to him, making it difficult for America to figure out exactly where to position himself, but England felt the American deserved some frustration anyway.
Once America /did/ manage to thrust himself fully inside England, the smaller nation held onto him for different reasons. England didn’t entirely know what to do with himself, so he dug fingers and nails into America’s back and urged him in an embarrassingly breathless voice to keep going…faster…more…
America held him right back, murmuring his own version of sweet nothings: a mixture of England’s nation and human names, quite the variety of expletives, and the words God and love thrown in disconnectedly. Had it been anyone but England, there might have been complaints that America was too rough, given his natural strength, but England matched him, crying out only for more.
England choked on his own breath when America reached between them to bring England closer to the edge. “I’m- God, Alfred… Just a…bit more…” His words left him in barely connected bursts, only able to breathe properly when he wasn’t distracted by the feel of America moving inside him and all around him.
America miraculously contracted ‘I know’ and ‘Me too’ into a syllable and a half, but England understood the sentiment and simply grasped tighter to him as the American graced him with a series of open-mouthed kisses, stealing breath and thought.
A rational part of England’s brain hoped there weren’t any guests in the neighboring rooms to hear him when he came, because he was sure he sounded like a wanton whore. One who thought very highly of someone named Alfred, if the near-screamed name was anything to go by. America followed soon after, dragging out ‘Arthur’ into a long, satisfied moan.
In Which Flattery Gets You Everywhere (4/4)
anonymous
May 7 2010, 09:42:29 UTC
They were both out of breath in the afterglow, England allowing himself to be snuggled against America’s chest in the hopes that he could extricate himself when the git inevitably fell asleep.
America was the first to break the silence with an awed, “Holy shit, dude.”
It took England almost a full two minutes, but he eventually recognized the inflection America had used. “Do mine ears deceive me, or did you just /actually/ quote South Park to describe our sex during post-coital cuddling?” America grinned unabashedly at him. “You are the most moronic being I have ever had the displeasure to be associated with,” he stated primly.
“Eh, you love me,” America replied, hugging England closer to him.
“That is entirely beside the point,” the Briton stated sourly. “And I-”
“Hey,” America said, cutting him off. “You just admitted you love me.” England flushed red up to his ears and tried to splutter out a denial that he hadn’t /technically/ admitted anything, but America wasn’t having it, and elected to kiss him into silence. England really couldn’t be as bothered by this as he might have liked to. - Because life is cruel, there was another meeting the following day. And because it just wouldn’t be one of those roundabout, love-finding, life-altering experiences without it, America had to start up his pickup line spree again. This time directed only at England.
He took it very well, considering his aversion to public displays of…well, any emotion but anger, really. And America should have seen it coming, what with England’s reputation and all. He’d /have/ to have a reply on hand for the pickup line America chose to start with.
“So, beautiful, did it hurt? Y’know, when you fell from heaven?” America gave England a charming smile, undeterred by the smaller man’s annoyed sigh.
“Yes, actually,” England said. “It still hurts rather a lot where I touched down, and seeing as I’ve landed straight on my arse, it doesn’t seem you’ll be getting any tonight, now will you?”
England walked off after that, leaving America to marvel at the snappy reply and surprisingly efficient cockblock.
--- In case people did not understand: “As you wish.” - Means I love you in Princess Bride. If you haven’t seen it, DO SO! The quote from South Park - Stan says “Holy shit, dude” multiple times in the show.
And there you have it! Smut-quel and secondary ending with bonus bad pickup lines (and one good one). Ugh...accidentally de-anon'd. D: First screw up I've had on here.
sadistic guards - Silly captcha, that was my last fill. ^_^
Re: In Which Flattery Gets You Everywhere (4/4)
anonymous
May 7 2010, 09:52:53 UTC
Caught your de-anon too, sorry. But I see that you wrote Invisible Hands and also First Impressions and those are some of my favorite fills ever. And this, this was also awesome. England gets all the best lines and parting shots, doesn't he? :D
ffff de-anon, whyyy?
anonymous
May 7 2010, 09:59:03 UTC
I am not ready to be exposed yet! D8 Oh, jeeze, hopefully that never happens again.
Anyway, I'm really glad you have liked my fills! :D Hehe...um I might be biased because I'm kind of in love with Iggy, but yeah, he gets to be awesome. xD
Re: ffff de-anon, whyyy?
anonymous
May 7 2010, 10:06:24 UTC
I totally know what you mean about England. He used to be a pirate and he does magic and snark and all those things that just make me fangirl over everything he is and does. And he's British, to boot.
So never stop with the awesome, there can never be enough awesome England.
Re: In Which Flattery Gets You Everywhere (4/4)
anonymous
May 7 2010, 10:29:28 UTC
I literally can't give this the comment it deserves, because I would hit the comment length limit multiple times. I'll keep it short as possible. Which might still hit the limit even if I practice restraint. ORZ
Your characterization for both of these guys is fantastic; I'm especially happy to see deliberately annoying America wearing that good ol' American shit-eating grin. England's right, though; the boy just needs to learn to shut up sometimes. XD Whatever mode of transportation had got him there, it hadn’t involved America talking, and for that, England was eternally grateful. That, soon followed by this: Of course it had been too good to be true, England thought despairingly. That just cracked me up for some reason. Oh England, honey. <3 ... Actually, maybe England should look into purchasing a ball gag; it would probably be the best birthday present he's given America in years! >_>
It's good to see that your England is still the (somewhat) emotionally retarded idiot we all know and love: “Thank you,” he said, a little breathless. “Now that you’ve picked me up, can we get on to the shagging bit? I was under the impression one-night stands were rather fast-paced affairs.” Awkward, England, very awkward.
America just brazenly admitting he likes English pet names is awesome; I have to admit, I rarely find any Americans who don't have either a hard-on or a soft spot for English pet names. >_>
... Jesus, America, I know you don't like to plan ahead but find some hotel lotion for lube. Something is better than nothing, boy. Ow. >_< Although somehow I don't think England was especially willing to let him bugger off to find something! XP He's rather ... commanding, isn't he? I love pushy, demanding, impatient bottoms like that! <3
Oh, anon, I liked the Princess Bride reference; I love unspoken communication, and that said so much with so little. It really suits these guys.
... I will never be able to think of England's temper without having the word "bitchfit" come to mind, now. :'D
This is the most in-character moment I've read in a long time: “Yes!” America cheered triumphantly, looking for all the world like he’d just won a sporting event or something equally stupid. That's my country in a nutshell, guys. XD But South Park references? Honestly, America, why so adorkable? And how does England not smack you upside the head more often? ... I guess he just prefers snarky comments as his weapon of choice, but still!
You wrote Invisible Hand and First Impressions ... didn't you? I can feel the love for these characters, but especially England. <3
Re: In Which Flattery Gets You Everywhere (4/4)
anonymous
May 7 2010, 13:37:19 UTC
BRB, flailing at the awesome that is your comment...
Seriously though, guh, you people who pay attention and quote me and YOU GET WHAT I'M SAYIN'! I love you!
I think you picked out all my favorite parts while writing this, not even kidding. (Especially England and his bitchfit. In reply to your statement: Mission Accomplished!)
And yeah, Invisible Hand and First Impressions are mine. Good Lord, you guys better get ready for more stuff from me soon...all the comments plus the recent slow-down in USUK stuff is gonna wind up pushing me to fill everything I can. goshIhavenotimeforthis!! DX
Re: In Which Flattery Gets You Everywhere (4/4)
anonymous
May 7 2010, 11:47:37 UTC
Awwww...I didn't catch the de-anon ;__; Now I can't stalk you for your other fills.
Oh pretty please, author!non, please give me links to your other fills? Or really, to everything you've ever written because I'm sure they're just as brilliant 8DDD
England's witty parting shot is made of BRILLIANCE.
South Park references 8D <3 God, I love you, anon.
Perhaps someone else can find the Westboro one...?
South Park! Yes! Right back atcha, hun! 8D
Bwahaha! Stalking crisis averted! >D Honestly, if I knew how to link things on the USUK comm, I would de-anon on this stuff so fast, it'd make your head spin... *curses technology fail*
---
It was somewhat of a mystery to England how he’d managed to go from assertively groping America in the doorway of his hotel to flat on his back, but it had apparently happened. Whatever mode of transportation had got him there, it hadn’t involved America talking, and for that, England was eternally grateful. Instead, America had started mouthing at his neck somewhere along the way and was at this point trailing up toward England’s mouth.
The smaller blonde groaned and wriggled against America’s body weight pressed down against him. With a slight turn of his head, America’s lips were within reach and England took full advantage. America was holding him still, hands placed strategically so that England didn’t particularly want to move away from them, but it was England who won the battle between their mouths.
England tongued his way into America’s mouth, dovetailing their lips together and exploring every inch of the American. The younger nation moaned into England’s mouth, letting the more experienced of the two lead in that particular area. Eventually they had to part, both breathing heavily, and America rested his forehead lightly against England’s, giving him a slightly open-mouthed smile.
“Hey,” he panted against England’s skin. “I hope you know CPR, ‘cause you take my breath away.”
Of course it had been too good to be true, England thought despairingly. “Please, for the love of all that is good, just let the cheesy lines die.” He began tugging up on America’s shirt in an effort to both get him out of his clothes and onto a more productive subject.
“Aw, c’mon, Iggy,” he replied, sitting up to strip off his shirt. “Why do I gotta stop when one of ‘em actually worked?”
England growled, refusing to be distracted from his anger even in the face of an extremely aesthetically pleasing view of America sans shirt. “Because if you don’t keep your mouth shut and get on with it, I will leave and you won’t be able to actually count this as a success.” An empty threat, but he could still hope America would believe it.
Apparently enough blood was flowing south that America didn’t have the brain power to catch England’s lack of conviction. Instead, he leaned down to kiss England thoroughly, fingers working quickly at the man’s shirt buttons. England moaned his approval, hands twisting in America’s hair to hold him in close range. Within moments, America had his shirt off, lifting England’s body so he could slip free of the sleeves. The larger blonde sat up, moving so that England was placed on his lap, arms still around America’s shoulders.
America pulled back and stroked his hands down England’s sides, eyes following the same downward pattern across England’s torso. “Can I have one more?”
It took England a few seconds to figure out what America was asking about, and when he did, he rolled his eyes. “Fine, but this had better be the last one, and it had better be a damn good line.”
The younger blonde smiled wide and his lips cruised over England’s cheek to put his mouth to the Briton’s ear before he spoke. “You are so beautiful the sun is too jealous to shine.” If England had thought America had a literary bone in his body, he might have accused him of mutilating one of Shakespeare’s lines, but knowing America, he had probably made that one up purely on his own. It sounded too honest to be plagiarized. The thought made England’s eyes water frighteningly, so he fought against the rising tide of emotion by pulling America forward to ravage his mouth.
America didn’t protest, but he didn’t stop petting England’s skin either. He’d unbuttoned England’s slacks and the pair were just slightly rutting against each other by the time England released his lips.
“Thank you,” he said, a little breathless. “Now that you’ve picked me up, can we get on to the shagging bit? I was under the impression one-night stands were rather fast-paced affairs.”
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“What’s all this now?” To give America credit, he didn’t avoid England’s eyes, but rather watched him closely. “What’s got you frowning like that? You’ve got a half-naked bloke here about to jump in bed with you, you shouldn’t be upset.”
“Can you stay?” After a moment and merely as an effort not to sound too needy, he added, “In the morning, I mean.”
England was silent for a few seconds. “Can you not hit on the rest of the world?”
“Well, I gotta mess with somebody,” America replied, recognizing the veiled /yes/.
The older nation affected a put-upon sigh. “I suppose I can sacrifice my well-being for the safety of others.” America smirked in a way that said England would now be carrying /all/ the horrible pickup lines America might have used on innocent bystanders. “There’s going to be a lot of one-night stands in the future aren’t there?”
America snorted. “Dude, kinda defeats the purpose if it’s more than one night,” he pointed out astutely.
“Mere formalities,” England quipped. “Now for god’s sake, will you get out of your trousers already?”
“Whatever you want, babe.” With that, he tipped England back and followed his descent to hover over the smaller man.
“Don’t even start that,” England ordered. Clearly he didn’t mean America’s task of getting off the rest of their clothes, seeing as he lifted his hips to help when needed.
Somehow America managed to wear a shit-eating grin even as he stroked a finger up the length of England’s vital regions. “But pet names are so cute.” He leaned down, hand closing around England, as they once again shared breathing space. “You can call me love if you want. It’d sound all British and adorable.”
The Briton couldn’t find the motivation to properly snap at him with his hips jerking up into America’s hand, so he settled for telling him to shut up instead. America took it to heart and set his mouth to better use, kissing and licking a long trail from England’s neck to his stomach. He made pit stops everywhere, giving special attention to the smaller blonde’s nipples and belly button, then going back up to mouth at his pulse point.
“Alfred,” England groaned, grabbing at the man’s hair. The intimate use of his human name made America bite down where he’d been laving at England’s neck, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about the mark it was sure to leave.
“Yeah?” he panted.
“Tell me you’ve got lube or something.” England huffed out a breath against America’s mouth, kissing him briefly just because he could. “I’m not going to be able to worry about it much longer.”
“Um,” the younger nation started awkwardly. “I wasn’t actually, y’know, planning on you showing up, so…”
England seemed to debate with himself for a while. “On your back,” he ordered after it seemed he’d reached a decision.
“What? But I-”
“Just do it,” England snapped. “We’re not doing this dry and you won’t do it right. Get on your back.”
Uncertain, America followed his instructions, but kept a wary eye on England. His worries quickly flew out the window, however, when England’s mouth descended on him. America gasped instead, the exhale turning into a wordless expression of approval that also might have been a call-out to god, America wasn’t really sure.
Sadly, England backed away after only a few seconds, grinning in an expression that looked almost too American for him. “Well, I suppose you /can/ be invaded then, can’t you?”
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“Fuck,” America nearly whispered, eyes glued to England’s mouth as his tongue worked over and between America’s digits. “D’you actually register how hot you are? I mean, in public you’re… But /damn/, England.”
The Briton looked properly smug, ego stroked, and released America’s hand. “You’re not bad yourself. Of course, it might improve my opinion if you get a move on.”
America smiled and moved England’s legs apart. “As you wish.” And they both knew what reference he was making.
Mentally prepared as he was, England still made a bit of noise as America’s fingers probed him, only really uncomfortable when the taller blonde pushed a third inside. America kept up an effective distraction with one hand brushing over the inside England’s knee and his mouth pressing kisses to any part of England’s face, neck, and torso he could reach.
“Just do it,” England grunted when America lingered at three fingers. “I know you like to dawdle, but-”
“Shh.” America’s brow furrowed in concentration and he shifted England’s leg where he held it away for more room. “Just give me a sec…” England considered yelling at him, and had reached three in the countdown until he threw a slight bitchfit at America’s slowness when America quite obviously achieved his goal. England felt his spine arch and lock momentarily as America’s fingers pushed deep enough to hit his prostate.
“Yes!” America cheered triumphantly, looking for all the world like he’d just won a sporting event or something equally stupid.
“Alright,” England panted when shocks of pleasure stopped coursing through him quite so forcefully. “Yes, marvelous. Just come /on/!” America continued to smile in his triumph, moving to kiss England as his fingers slipped from him. The Briton clung to him, making it difficult for America to figure out exactly where to position himself, but England felt the American deserved some frustration anyway.
Once America /did/ manage to thrust himself fully inside England, the smaller nation held onto him for different reasons. England didn’t entirely know what to do with himself, so he dug fingers and nails into America’s back and urged him in an embarrassingly breathless voice to keep going…faster…more…
America held him right back, murmuring his own version of sweet nothings: a mixture of England’s nation and human names, quite the variety of expletives, and the words God and love thrown in disconnectedly. Had it been anyone but England, there might have been complaints that America was too rough, given his natural strength, but England matched him, crying out only for more.
England choked on his own breath when America reached between them to bring England closer to the edge. “I’m- God, Alfred… Just a…bit more…” His words left him in barely connected bursts, only able to breathe properly when he wasn’t distracted by the feel of America moving inside him and all around him.
America miraculously contracted ‘I know’ and ‘Me too’ into a syllable and a half, but England understood the sentiment and simply grasped tighter to him as the American graced him with a series of open-mouthed kisses, stealing breath and thought.
A rational part of England’s brain hoped there weren’t any guests in the neighboring rooms to hear him when he came, because he was sure he sounded like a wanton whore. One who thought very highly of someone named Alfred, if the near-screamed name was anything to go by. America followed soon after, dragging out ‘Arthur’ into a long, satisfied moan.
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America was the first to break the silence with an awed, “Holy shit, dude.”
It took England almost a full two minutes, but he eventually recognized the inflection America had used. “Do mine ears deceive me, or did you just /actually/ quote South Park to describe our sex during post-coital cuddling?” America grinned unabashedly at him. “You are the most moronic being I have ever had the displeasure to be associated with,” he stated primly.
“Eh, you love me,” America replied, hugging England closer to him.
“That is entirely beside the point,” the Briton stated sourly. “And I-”
“Hey,” America said, cutting him off. “You just admitted you love me.” England flushed red up to his ears and tried to splutter out a denial that he hadn’t /technically/ admitted anything, but America wasn’t having it, and elected to kiss him into silence. England really couldn’t be as bothered by this as he might have liked to.
-
Because life is cruel, there was another meeting the following day. And because it just wouldn’t be one of those roundabout, love-finding, life-altering experiences without it, America had to start up his pickup line spree again. This time directed only at England.
He took it very well, considering his aversion to public displays of…well, any emotion but anger, really. And America should have seen it coming, what with England’s reputation and all. He’d /have/ to have a reply on hand for the pickup line America chose to start with.
“So, beautiful, did it hurt? Y’know, when you fell from heaven?” America gave England a charming smile, undeterred by the smaller man’s annoyed sigh.
“Yes, actually,” England said. “It still hurts rather a lot where I touched down, and seeing as I’ve landed straight on my arse, it doesn’t seem you’ll be getting any tonight, now will you?”
England walked off after that, leaving America to marvel at the snappy reply and surprisingly efficient cockblock.
---
In case people did not understand:
“As you wish.” - Means I love you in Princess Bride. If you haven’t seen it, DO SO!
The quote from South Park - Stan says “Holy shit, dude” multiple times in the show.
And there you have it! Smut-quel and secondary ending with bonus bad pickup lines (and one good one).
Ugh...accidentally de-anon'd. D: First screw up I've had on here.
sadistic guards - Silly captcha, that was my last fill. ^_^
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Anyway, I'm really glad you have liked my fills! :D
Hehe...um I might be biased because I'm kind of in love with Iggy, but yeah, he gets to be awesome. xD
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So never stop with the awesome, there can never be enough awesome England.
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Your characterization for both of these guys is fantastic; I'm especially happy to see deliberately annoying America wearing that good ol' American shit-eating grin. England's right, though; the boy just needs to learn to shut up sometimes. XD Whatever mode of transportation had got him there, it hadn’t involved America talking, and for that, England was eternally grateful. That, soon followed by this: Of course it had been too good to be true, England thought despairingly. That just cracked me up for some reason. Oh England, honey. <3 ... Actually, maybe England should look into purchasing a ball gag; it would probably be the best birthday present he's given America in years! >_>
It's good to see that your England is still the (somewhat) emotionally retarded idiot we all know and love: “Thank you,” he said, a little breathless. “Now that you’ve picked me up, can we get on to the shagging bit? I was under the impression one-night stands were rather fast-paced affairs.” Awkward, England, very awkward.
America just brazenly admitting he likes English pet names is awesome; I have to admit, I rarely find any Americans who don't have either a hard-on or a soft spot for English pet names. >_>
... Jesus, America, I know you don't like to plan ahead but find some hotel lotion for lube. Something is better than nothing, boy. Ow. >_< Although somehow I don't think England was especially willing to let him bugger off to find something! XP He's rather ... commanding, isn't he? I love pushy, demanding, impatient bottoms like that! <3
Oh, anon, I liked the Princess Bride reference; I love unspoken communication, and that said so much with so little. It really suits these guys.
... I will never be able to think of England's temper without having the word "bitchfit" come to mind, now. :'D
This is the most in-character moment I've read in a long time: “Yes!” America cheered triumphantly, looking for all the world like he’d just won a sporting event or something equally stupid. That's my country in a nutshell, guys. XD But South Park references? Honestly, America, why so adorkable? And how does England not smack you upside the head more often? ... I guess he just prefers snarky comments as his weapon of choice, but still!
You wrote Invisible Hand and First Impressions ... didn't you? I can feel the love for these characters, but especially England. <3
Oh yeah! Best title I've seen in ages, seriously.
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Seriously though, guh, you people who pay attention and quote me and YOU GET WHAT I'M SAYIN'! I love you!
I think you picked out all my favorite parts while writing this, not even kidding. (Especially England and his bitchfit. In reply to your statement: Mission Accomplished!)
And yeah, Invisible Hand and First Impressions are mine.
Good Lord, you guys better get ready for more stuff from me soon...all the comments plus the recent slow-down in USUK stuff is gonna wind up pushing me to fill everything I can. goshIhavenotimeforthis!! DX
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...ILU, anon. :') Your stuff is always just so fun and it makes people happy. This may be selfish of me, but I hope you never stop writing.
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Oh, Iggy. Perhaps you should invest in some American television and learn the secret of the Gibbs smack.
That might shut Alfred up.
captcha - self-sacrifice, jacket
. . . O.O NO IGGY, DON'T MAKE ALFRED GIVE UP THE JACKET!
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Oh pretty please, author!non, please give me links to your other fills? Or really, to everything you've ever written because I'm sure they're just as brilliant 8DDD
England's witty parting shot is made of BRILLIANCE.
South Park references 8D <3 God, I love you, anon.
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Invisible Hand (UK's fairies badtouching US):
Part 1 - http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/10530.html?thread=16200226#t16200226
Parts 2-4: http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/11813.html?thread=34459429#t34459429
First Impressions (prison sex w/guard!England):
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/11813.html?thread=38235941#t38235941
Perhaps someone else can find the Westboro one...?
South Park! Yes! Right back atcha, hun! 8D
Bwahaha! Stalking crisis averted! >D Honestly, if I knew how to link things on the USUK comm, I would de-anon on this stuff so fast, it'd make your head spin... *curses technology fail*
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