When I sing, do you go weak in the knees? [Prologue-c/?]
anonymous
December 15 2010, 05:35:15 UTC
A low chuckle rumbled from Russia’s throat. He hooked his leg around America’s shin and flipped them so he was crouched over America. “It is only rape when it is nonconsensual, yes? And believe me, you will be begging me to take you harder…” Russia licked the side of America’s neck. “…and longer…” He slid his cold hands under America’s shirt, coaxing a moan from him. “…until you see those precious stars and stripes of yours when I release into you…” Russia lifted his head and breathed on Nantucket softly until it twitched and America mewled quietly, much to his embarrassment.
Hook, line, and sinker.
Russia picked himself off of America and smoothed his coat out. “W-wha-?”
“Come, America. Did you really think that I would rape the United States? It would take much more manpower to hold you down. It would also require the help of almost every nation. Think of it as…a world gangbang, if you wish. The only reason I would do so alone would be if I had a death wish or…” He leaned in closer. “…you gave me your consent.”
America bristled like a cat, and almost hissed like one. “Asshole! That’s it! Get the fuck out of my house, right now!” Russia looked mildly put off, but America snarled. He was just a giant dick (no pun intended) and deserved to freeze his huge commie ass off outside in the cold. Heroes shouldn’t have the villain chasing after them, and even so, it was probably some crazy Russian trap to get America to lower his defenses until the cobra reared its head back and-
He shook his head. There were instances when America hated having a one track mind.
“But мой подсолнечника, I still haven't given you your gift.”
“Don’t you dare call me a fucking flower, you oversized polar bear! Just get the hell away from me and--” America paused. “Gift?”
Russia nodded sadly and produced a small box from one of his coat pockets. Despite his brain screaming at him, America could feel his resolve melting away slightly. It was like a belated Christmas present, and God knew he loved Christmas.
“O-oh. Thanks.” He rubbed the back of his neck, and he was NOT blushing because he loved opening presents and- Oh hell no. That was not a jewelry box.
Russia reached in and pulled out a sparkling necklace inlaid with sapphires, rubies, and diamonds. “See, the blue ones reminded me of your eyes, the red ones are your birthstone, and I got the diamonds because you always seem so obsessed with your flag colors. And…” He walked over to the door and grabbed the box next to it (when the fuck did that get there?) and pulled out…
“Is that a maid’s outfit?!?!” America couldn’t help himself from screeching loudly.
“It is! I saw it and thought it would look very cute on you!”
“Where the fuck do you go shopping at? Sex Toys & Sons?” Russia stared at America, mouth hung open in shock.
“How did you know?” Oh for the love of…
“It was a fucking joke! And I can’t believe you actually went inside a place like that!” America rubbed his temples, groaning in pain. “You are giving me a migraine. Now get the hell out before I make you.”
Russia frowned. “But America, I still haven’t sung your song for--”
When I sing, do you go weak in the knees? [Prologue-d/?]
anonymous
December 15 2010, 05:37:52 UTC
”He had the right idea, but he should’ve known you don’t give jewelry to a guy you like.” America sighed dreamily. “Of course if I were female, with a huge rack and all, I’d definitely wear it. The gems were so shiny…”
America glanced down at the secretary who had developed an eye twitch very similar to Germany’s. “Anyways, I kicked him out alright, but that didn’t mean he went back to his hotel room…”
“America, are you sure you don’t want to hear your song?”
“Oh yes, because every guy wants a creepy-as-fuck Russian crooning to them at fucking 2 a.m. in the morning!” Yeah. Sarcasm.
Apparently Russia didn’t quite catch the condescending tone in America’s voice, so he smiled and brought out a CD player. “Okay!”
“Hell NO!” America slammed the door behind Russia once he pushed him outside and stalked off to his room. He threw himself on his bed and covered his face with a pillow. Just a few hours of sleep, and when he woke up it would all be just a dream.
Or a nightmare.
“Creepy commie Russians and their creepy….creepyness.” Ooh, how original. America scowled at the ceiling for a few minutes until he felt his eyelids droop and the sweet, sweet embrace of sleep overcome his thoughts until-
He was rudely awakened by a light tapping noise. America snapped his head towards the window just in time to see a few pebbles rain lightly on the glass and fall to the ground. He slammed his head back in irritation only to reel forward in pain when his head connected sharply with the wall.
America grimaced and turned away, doing his best to ignore the constant pattering of stones against his bedroom wall. When there was a moment of silence, America sighed happily, then growled when a loud thunk interrupted his peace.
Once it seemed like Russia had given up, America settled in his bed comfortably, a small smile resting on his lips and-
A crash that came from his window jolted America out of his sleep, startling him so that he flailed off the side of the bed in a heap of pillows, sheets and limbs. “Holy motherfucking piece of shit! Call the cops! Grab the kids! Take no prisoners!”
Russia popped his head up so that he peered into America’s bedroom. He giggled at the mess he made; shattered glass, a broken CD player and America himself in a tangled pile on the other side of the room. “You say some funny things, don’t you, America?”
America glared at Russia, fuming silently and cursing him to hell and back and to hell again. “What in fuck’s name are you doing and how the shit did you get up here?!”
When I sing, do you go weak in the knees? [Prologue-e/?]
anonymous
December 15 2010, 05:39:38 UTC
“Well no freaking duh! Now get away! Go on! Shoo!” Russia merely walked closer to America and leaned down so that he was eye level with the other. “You are very adorable when you have a pouting look, America.”
“Don’t call me adorable! I’m a man for fuck’s sake!” He stuck his lower lip out a little more. “You’re supposed to say ‘oh America, you’re so handsome’ or ‘why America, that’s a fine piece of ass you got there, I’d definitely tap that sexy shit any day.’ You don’t call manly men adorable!”
Russia cocked his head to the side curiously. “So…you are giving me permission to flirt with you and…have sex?” He clapped his hands together and smiled brightly. “I like that idea, дорогой!”
“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there. First of all, NO SEX. Second, get your overgrown snowman ass out of my house. And third, do not call me ‘darling’ in your Commie-nese language!”
But Russia only laughed, which caused America to growl even more. “My dear, you are just so precious, I want to take you home so that no one else can ruin your perfection~”
“That would almost be sweet…if you didn’t ruin it with your overly-obsessive compulsion. And stop calling me pet names!”
“Aw, you think I’m sweet?” Russia scooped America up in a bone-crushing hug. “I know for sure that you’ll love me!”
America struggled fruitlessly, but apparently Russia enforced his arms with grade-A steel or something, because the guy was strong. And coming from America, that meant something. “Do you want to sleep together tonight?”
“Fuck NO!” There was no way in hell that he was going to share a bed with Icicle Pop here, and yet he had a funny feeling that no matter what he said, Russia would somehow make his way into America’s bed.
”The guy was as persistent as fuck. I literally had to get a crowbar to pry him off of me. Of course…” America smiled at no one in particular and swung his head to the side. “I am pretty good looking to boot.”
The secretary (whose name was Tara, but it wasn’t like America remembered) stared at him emotionlessly. “Sir, if you don’t get your ass off my desk, I’m going to call security and--”
“Ah! That’s right! We had that meeting the next day! You won’t believe what he did in front of practically the whole world….”
Re: When I sing, do you go weak in the knees? [Prologue-e/?]
anonymous
December 28 2010, 17:22:38 UTC
I didn't know how fucking badly I needed this until it was all up in my grill. Goddamn I love you Russia, but you scary. author!Anon, I hope you post more soon, because this is definitely turning out excellently.
reCaptcha: Freiburg trendold. Oh now you're just making up words, Captcha. Don't be lazy.
Hey, this clicky thing lets me make words. Weird.
anonymous
January 15 2011, 00:03:15 UTC
D:
Whoa guys. It's already been a month. Okay. DUDES, SO FUCKING SORRY. I SWEAR I'M WORKING ON IT, BUT...THE WAY MY HEAD WORKS, IT FILLS THINGS BACKWARDS. SO...I'M WORKING IT OUT BACKWARDS. >>;; I'm definitely not stopping though. No way. Having too much fun torturing America. LMAO, but don't worry. I've got this special notebook I carry around my classes and outline my stories in there, AND THIS ONE IS ON THE FIRST PAGE HURR-/shot
Hook, line, and sinker.
Russia picked himself off of America and smoothed his coat out. “W-wha-?”
“Come, America. Did you really think that I would rape the United States? It would take much more manpower to hold you down. It would also require the help of almost every nation. Think of it as…a world gangbang, if you wish. The only reason I would do so alone would be if I had a death wish or…” He leaned in closer. “…you gave me your consent.”
America bristled like a cat, and almost hissed like one. “Asshole! That’s it! Get the fuck out of my house, right now!” Russia looked mildly put off, but America snarled. He was just a giant dick (no pun intended) and deserved to freeze his huge commie ass off outside in the cold. Heroes shouldn’t have the villain chasing after them, and even so, it was probably some crazy Russian trap to get America to lower his defenses until the cobra reared its head back and-
He shook his head. There were instances when America hated having a one track mind.
“But мой подсолнечника, I still haven't given you your gift.”
“Don’t you dare call me a fucking flower, you oversized polar bear! Just get the hell away from me and--” America paused. “Gift?”
Russia nodded sadly and produced a small box from one of his coat pockets. Despite his brain screaming at him, America could feel his resolve melting away slightly. It was like a belated Christmas present, and God knew he loved Christmas.
“O-oh. Thanks.” He rubbed the back of his neck, and he was NOT blushing because he loved opening presents and-
Oh hell no. That was not a jewelry box.
Russia reached in and pulled out a sparkling necklace inlaid with sapphires, rubies, and diamonds. “See, the blue ones reminded me of your eyes, the red ones are your birthstone, and I got the diamonds because you always seem so obsessed with your flag colors. And…” He walked over to the door and grabbed the box next to it (when the fuck did that get there?) and pulled out…
“Is that a maid’s outfit?!?!” America couldn’t help himself from screeching loudly.
“It is! I saw it and thought it would look very cute on you!”
“Where the fuck do you go shopping at? Sex Toys & Sons?” Russia stared at America, mouth hung open in shock.
“How did you know?” Oh for the love of…
“It was a fucking joke! And I can’t believe you actually went inside a place like that!” America rubbed his temples, groaning in pain. “You are giving me a migraine. Now get the hell out before I make you.”
Russia frowned. “But America, I still haven’t sung your song for--”
“OUUUUT!!!!!!”
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America glanced down at the secretary who had developed an eye twitch very similar to Germany’s. “Anyways, I kicked him out alright, but that didn’t mean he went back to his hotel room…”
“America, are you sure you don’t want to hear your song?”
“Oh yes, because every guy wants a creepy-as-fuck Russian crooning to them at fucking 2 a.m. in the morning!” Yeah. Sarcasm.
Apparently Russia didn’t quite catch the condescending tone in America’s voice, so he smiled and brought out a CD player. “Okay!”
“Hell NO!” America slammed the door behind Russia once he pushed him outside and stalked off to his room. He threw himself on his bed and covered his face with a pillow. Just a few hours of sleep, and when he woke up it would all be just a dream.
Or a nightmare.
“Creepy commie Russians and their creepy….creepyness.” Ooh, how original. America scowled at the ceiling for a few minutes until he felt his eyelids droop and the sweet, sweet embrace of sleep overcome his thoughts until-
He was rudely awakened by a light tapping noise. America snapped his head towards the window just in time to see a few pebbles rain lightly on the glass and fall to the ground. He slammed his head back in irritation only to reel forward in pain when his head connected sharply with the wall.
America grimaced and turned away, doing his best to ignore the constant pattering of stones against his bedroom wall. When there was a moment of silence, America sighed happily, then growled when a loud thunk interrupted his peace.
Once it seemed like Russia had given up, America settled in his bed comfortably, a small smile resting on his lips and-
A crash that came from his window jolted America out of his sleep, startling him so that he flailed off the side of the bed in a heap of pillows, sheets and limbs. “Holy motherfucking piece of shit! Call the cops! Grab the kids! Take no prisoners!”
Russia popped his head up so that he peered into America’s bedroom. He giggled at the mess he made; shattered glass, a broken CD player and America himself in a tangled pile on the other side of the room. “You say some funny things, don’t you, America?”
America glared at Russia, fuming silently and cursing him to hell and back and to hell again. “What in fuck’s name are you doing and how the shit did you get up here?!”
“I climbed a ladder.”
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“Don’t call me adorable! I’m a man for fuck’s sake!” He stuck his lower lip out a little more. “You’re supposed to say ‘oh America, you’re so handsome’ or ‘why America, that’s a fine piece of ass you got there, I’d definitely tap that sexy shit any day.’ You don’t call manly men adorable!”
Russia cocked his head to the side curiously. “So…you are giving me permission to flirt with you and…have sex?” He clapped his hands together and smiled brightly. “I like that idea, дорогой!”
“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down there. First of all, NO SEX. Second, get your overgrown snowman ass out of my house. And third, do not call me ‘darling’ in your Commie-nese language!”
But Russia only laughed, which caused America to growl even more. “My dear, you are just so precious, I want to take you home so that no one else can ruin your perfection~”
“That would almost be sweet…if you didn’t ruin it with your overly-obsessive compulsion. And stop calling me pet names!”
“Aw, you think I’m sweet?” Russia scooped America up in a bone-crushing hug. “I know for sure that you’ll love me!”
America struggled fruitlessly, but apparently Russia enforced his arms with grade-A steel or something, because the guy was strong. And coming from America, that meant something. “Do you want to sleep together tonight?”
“Fuck NO!” There was no way in hell that he was going to share a bed with Icicle Pop here, and yet he had a funny feeling that no matter what he said, Russia would somehow make his way into America’s bed.
”The guy was as persistent as fuck. I literally had to get a crowbar to pry him off of me. Of course…” America smiled at no one in particular and swung his head to the side. “I am pretty good looking to boot.”
The secretary (whose name was Tara, but it wasn’t like America remembered) stared at him emotionlessly. “Sir, if you don’t get your ass off my desk, I’m going to call security and--”
“Ah! That’s right! We had that meeting the next day! You won’t believe what he did in front of practically the whole world….”
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I know Russia hasn't actually started singing...that comes later~ He's just....busy, being creeper Russia....
Er, so I don't know how to file a restraining order, so if it seems really bad, I'm sorry! I'm a horrible American citizen!
asdfghjkl -crawls away to die-
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I LOVE YOUR CREEPER!RUSSIA. HE'S PERFECT IMO.
Please, PLEASE keep this up. Uuuuuuuu I need more of this SO BAD
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I'M DIEING!
DIEING.
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<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
and ohmyGod Al's story telling lmaooo<3 I am besidemyself, I am laughing so hard. Thank you so much author!anon!! Thank you!!! <3333333333
captcha: Warrity measures
ohdear, really now?
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Ah...-bows humbly-
You're welcome, OP~ It was fun to write, and I swear I'm working on the next chapter! -shifty eyes-
reCaptcha: were impecto....is captcha implying something?
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author!Anon, I hope you post more soon, because this is definitely turning out excellently.
reCaptcha: Freiburg trendold. Oh now you're just making up words, Captcha. Don't be lazy.
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Whoa guys. It's already been a month. Okay.
DUDES, SO FUCKING SORRY. I SWEAR I'M WORKING ON IT, BUT...THE WAY MY HEAD WORKS, IT FILLS THINGS BACKWARDS. SO...I'M WORKING IT OUT BACKWARDS.
>>;;
I'm definitely not stopping though. No way. Having too much fun torturing America. LMAO, but don't worry. I've got this special notebook I carry around my classes and outline my stories in there, AND THIS ONE IS ON THE FIRST PAGE HURR-/shot
FINALS GAIZ. THEY BE A BITCH.
~S!Anon
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