My Pleasure (2/3)
anonymous
October 15 2010, 06:18:22 UTC
As childhood faded into adolescence, America watched England closely, and though he was glad that England always gave him smiles and meant it, there was always a small bit of longing for intimacy behind his eyes that America’s playing and pandering and even teasing couldn’t solve. The best thing for it, America decided, was to do as he’d always done and provide England with everything he needed. America had always done so, because he was England’s colony. He loved England, adored him, and nothing was too much to give for the betterment of his mother country.
England didn’t even question America’s presence in his bed, and for that, America had to thank his irrational fears for building bad habits. The nation simply groaned in a slightly put-upon manner when he felt the bed shift, and turned to snuggle America against him, as had become custom on nights when America crawled into his bed to escape nightmares.
America said nothing, and neither did England as he simply drifted back into a half-asleep state, his simple presence normally enough to calm America’s mind. Tonight, though, America was far from frightened. If anything, he was excited. He was going to make England truly happy, as was proper and right.
He didn’t expect England to react as he did when America’s hands moved under the nation’s shirt, but he caught England when he tried to back away. The hissed What are you doing? was cut off by America pressing his mouth to England’s in a copy of how he’d seen girls and boys do it behind barns. England stilled against his colony, didn’t respond, and America pouted slightly before moving on anyway.
England started protesting the moment America pushed fingers under England’s sleeping trousers. He wriggled slightly too, but America followed him, the pair of them rolling as England scooted backward too fast. He tried to talk America out of it, smoothing supposed-to-be-calm-but-shaking hands over America’s arms where they subtly caged him on the bed.
America would have none of it, and said so against England’s lips in warm breath. America wanted this, wanted to please and satisfy every aspect of England, because he was England’s colony and it was his nature, his job, and his privilege to ensure England’s happiness and prosperity. He didn’t mind letting England have him, was only too happy to give himself over to his beloved mother country.
Even if England claimed he didn’t want it.
But America knew better, he knew because even as England protested, his body twitched and flushed pink when America touched it, and when America managed to tug England’s trousers to his knees, England accidentally let slip a noise that betrayed his pleasure. He was on the right track, America assured himself with a smile. England was missing the touch of another person, and America had finally provided it for him. Wealth, devotion, and pleasure. America would give England any and all of it, and was glad he’d found a way to do so.
America paid no attention to what his own body demanded or the way he felt himself burn while taking England in, only focused on how to make England arch and bite back cries and twitch so badly he couldn’t pretend to fight off America’s advances. America brought him to release as many times as he could manage, letting England fill him in every way with proof of America’s success. His heart, his body, the planes of his skin even, bore marks of England’s happiness, his pleasure with America’s actions.
Finally, England seemed to slump into himself and weakly reached to bring America pleasure as well. America let him, because England wanted to. He would have been happy to simply pleasure England in any way, but England evidently wanted America to be happy too. And why shouldn’t he? America was his colony after all, and England had always rewarded a job well done.
My Pleasure (3/3)
anonymous
October 15 2010, 06:24:06 UTC
But the following morning, England told America he’d have to go back to the mother country early, and didn’t look in America’s eyes, and didn’t smile. Perhaps he’d been annoyed that America had taken him in so quickly, leaving thin strips of bloody on England’s thighs and sheets. America resolved to do better next time, so that England would still be pleased with him when they awoke.
England was, strangely, just as protestant that night as well. But America knew it was for his own good. He had been raised by England, as a part of him, and had attuned himself to provide whatever England needed. America would obviously know better than anyone what England needed. Perhaps, he thought laughingly, he would know better than England himself.
America persisted, making England happy and fulfilled, even if he didn’t want to be. He wiped off England’s tears while keeping his body tight around the older nation, dragging pleasured sounds and motion from him, so that America couldn’t help smiling at the joy he was clearly bringing England. He’d been moved to tears, even, and America’s chest swelled with warm pride at having pleased the most important person in his world.
America kissed him softly while England caught his breath, indulging himself in the sweet, unimportant gesture as he waited for England’s breathing to calm. England caught his hand in America’s hair, the other pushing at America’s cheek, and the boy let himself be moved so that England could press closed mouth kisses on his temples. Unexpectedly, England’s voice choked out, Why?, sounding a bit broken.
Not knowing what had made his England sound that way, America pushed flurries of innocent kisses all over England’s face, humming happily against his skin when he stopped to bury his face in England’s neck. Hesitantly, as if for some reason he thought America might push him away, England’s arms came up to wrap around America’s middle, tightening when America made no move but to sink deeper into England’s body heat.
Because he loved England, America told him. He did it for love and because it was what he was supposed to do. England had brought him up to be generous and good and loving, and America was happiest when he was giving to England. Helping as a colony should to enrich his mother country.
For some reason, that made England cry more, silent slow tears, and pet America’s hair and apologize. What for, America couldn’t fathom, but he let England do as he wanted and wound up falling asleep before he could think of another way to make England happy.
- Just wanted something with a twist to it. Not quite the classic Englad dominating America, but something a little different...
Re: My Pleasure (3/3)
anonymous
October 15 2010, 06:30:33 UTC
Oh man, this is awesome. I love the original take on the England/America relationship dynamics, and I'm in tears imagining how this is going to be the end of it and the beginning of the Revolution - imagining this America being so confused and England so helpless. And I love how you write America's POV, how with only a few words you describe his complete universe-centered-on-England, and how he doesn't see anything wrong with it at all.
Re: My Pleasure (3/3)
anonymous
October 15 2010, 07:56:38 UTC
;; I think this fits rather well the request for england supporting the revolution what with him apologizing for making america so crooked...so was it sort of like rape because he SEEMED to be enjoying it but the why and struggling...ya was it????
Also this was my fav out of all of them it was dark in a sweet dark way and so /right/. ;A;
When I requested this, I was thinking the angst would go the other way. I never thought someone would have America causing the angst. But, it was written very well and was extremely interesting. Thank you for filling my request!
Second authornon here
anonymous
October 15 2010, 14:12:16 UTC
Oh, man, how epic was that? Seriously, you didn't fail in the least from where I'm standing. Such a different take, with America being happy and willing the entire time, but we as readers getting a peek into the dark with England, is just brilliant.
Re: My Pleasure (3/3)
anonymous
July 17 2011, 03:21:15 UTC
Dear God... It's.. It's.. ... *scrambles for words* ..Amazing. Twisted. So dark in non-violent way that makes me wish for more fics of this kind.
I adore this kind of dark characters.. Especially America toward England. This darkness is unique because from America's perspective he is not doing anything wrong, rather he's doing good. His inability to see that it is not what England wants and misinterpreting some of England's actions is so sad, yet perfect. Dare I say it.. It's almost.. innocent, yet so dark and kind of creepy. It's so tragic, how their relationship becomes so.. twisted and yet it continues and with them both caring for the other (if in different way).
It made great impact on me and makes me wish you wrote more in this universe.
Thank you for writing this piece and I hope to see you writing more, anon!author.
Re: My Pleasure (3/3)
anonymous
July 17 2011, 04:20:58 UTC
Dear God... It's.. It's.. ... *scrambles for words* ..Amazing. Twisted. So dark in non-violent way that makes me wish for more fics of this kind.
I adore this kind of dark characters.. Especially America toward England. This darkness is unique because from America's perspective he is not doing anything wrong, rather he's doing good. His inability to see that it is not what England wants and misinterpreting some of England's actions is so sad, yet perfect. Dare I say it.. It's almost.. innocent, yet so dark and kind of creepy. It's so tragic, how their relationship becomes so.. twisted and yet it continues and with them both caring for the other (if in different way).
It made great impact on me and makes me wish you wrote more in this universe.
Thank you for writing this piece and I hope to see you writing more, anon!author.
England didn’t even question America’s presence in his bed, and for that, America had to thank his irrational fears for building bad habits. The nation simply groaned in a slightly put-upon manner when he felt the bed shift, and turned to snuggle America against him, as had become custom on nights when America crawled into his bed to escape nightmares.
America said nothing, and neither did England as he simply drifted back into a half-asleep state, his simple presence normally enough to calm America’s mind. Tonight, though, America was far from frightened. If anything, he was excited. He was going to make England truly happy, as was proper and right.
He didn’t expect England to react as he did when America’s hands moved under the nation’s shirt, but he caught England when he tried to back away. The hissed What are you doing? was cut off by America pressing his mouth to England’s in a copy of how he’d seen girls and boys do it behind barns. England stilled against his colony, didn’t respond, and America pouted slightly before moving on anyway.
England started protesting the moment America pushed fingers under England’s sleeping trousers. He wriggled slightly too, but America followed him, the pair of them rolling as England scooted backward too fast. He tried to talk America out of it, smoothing supposed-to-be-calm-but-shaking hands over America’s arms where they subtly caged him on the bed.
America would have none of it, and said so against England’s lips in warm breath. America wanted this, wanted to please and satisfy every aspect of England, because he was England’s colony and it was his nature, his job, and his privilege to ensure England’s happiness and prosperity. He didn’t mind letting England have him, was only too happy to give himself over to his beloved mother country.
Even if England claimed he didn’t want it.
But America knew better, he knew because even as England protested, his body twitched and flushed pink when America touched it, and when America managed to tug England’s trousers to his knees, England accidentally let slip a noise that betrayed his pleasure. He was on the right track, America assured himself with a smile. England was missing the touch of another person, and America had finally provided it for him. Wealth, devotion, and pleasure. America would give England any and all of it, and was glad he’d found a way to do so.
America paid no attention to what his own body demanded or the way he felt himself burn while taking England in, only focused on how to make England arch and bite back cries and twitch so badly he couldn’t pretend to fight off America’s advances. America brought him to release as many times as he could manage, letting England fill him in every way with proof of America’s success. His heart, his body, the planes of his skin even, bore marks of England’s happiness, his pleasure with America’s actions.
Finally, England seemed to slump into himself and weakly reached to bring America pleasure as well. America let him, because England wanted to. He would have been happy to simply pleasure England in any way, but England evidently wanted America to be happy too. And why shouldn’t he? America was his colony after all, and England had always rewarded a job well done.
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England was, strangely, just as protestant that night as well. But America knew it was for his own good. He had been raised by England, as a part of him, and had attuned himself to provide whatever England needed. America would obviously know better than anyone what England needed. Perhaps, he thought laughingly, he would know better than England himself.
America persisted, making England happy and fulfilled, even if he didn’t want to be. He wiped off England’s tears while keeping his body tight around the older nation, dragging pleasured sounds and motion from him, so that America couldn’t help smiling at the joy he was clearly bringing England. He’d been moved to tears, even, and America’s chest swelled with warm pride at having pleased the most important person in his world.
America kissed him softly while England caught his breath, indulging himself in the sweet, unimportant gesture as he waited for England’s breathing to calm. England caught his hand in America’s hair, the other pushing at America’s cheek, and the boy let himself be moved so that England could press closed mouth kisses on his temples. Unexpectedly, England’s voice choked out, Why?, sounding a bit broken.
Not knowing what had made his England sound that way, America pushed flurries of innocent kisses all over England’s face, humming happily against his skin when he stopped to bury his face in England’s neck. Hesitantly, as if for some reason he thought America might push him away, England’s arms came up to wrap around America’s middle, tightening when America made no move but to sink deeper into England’s body heat.
Because he loved England, America told him. He did it for love and because it was what he was supposed to do. England had brought him up to be generous and good and loving, and America was happiest when he was giving to England. Helping as a colony should to enrich his mother country.
For some reason, that made England cry more, silent slow tears, and pet America’s hair and apologize. What for, America couldn’t fathom, but he let England do as he wanted and wound up falling asleep before he could think of another way to make England happy.
-
Just wanted something with a twist to it. Not quite the classic Englad dominating America, but something a little different...
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As for it not being dark... oh, it is dark. Very dark, just in a different, more innocent way. So well done!
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Also this was my fav out of all of them it was dark in a sweet dark way and so /right/. ;A;
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Very well done!
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i would love to see more from this universe
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I adore this kind of dark characters.. Especially America toward England. This darkness is unique because from America's perspective he is not doing anything wrong, rather he's doing good. His inability to see that it is not what England wants and misinterpreting some of England's actions is so sad, yet perfect. Dare I say it.. It's almost.. innocent, yet so dark and kind of creepy. It's so tragic, how their relationship becomes so.. twisted and yet it continues and with them both caring for the other (if in different way).
It made great impact on me and makes me wish you wrote more in this universe.
Thank you for writing this piece and I hope to see you writing more, anon!author.
Again, thank you.
Reply
I adore this kind of dark characters.. Especially America toward England. This darkness is unique because from America's perspective he is not doing anything wrong, rather he's doing good. His inability to see that it is not what England wants and misinterpreting some of England's actions is so sad, yet perfect. Dare I say it.. It's almost.. innocent, yet so dark and kind of creepy. It's so tragic, how their relationship becomes so.. twisted and yet it continues and with them both caring for the other (if in different way).
It made great impact on me and makes me wish you wrote more in this universe.
Thank you for writing this piece and I hope to see you writing more, anon!author.
Again, thank you.
Reply
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