Can't Help Myself 1/3
anonymous
May 7 2011, 02:07:22 UTC
I'm not the above anon, and I'm sorry I didn't get your third bonus in there, but I hope you enjoy this anyway!
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“Stop right there!”
He swore, picking up his pace when he noticed the police officer hot on his tail. He rounded the corner into an alley, knocking over whatever he could to slow the cop's pursuit. To his great horror, the seemingly gaunt cop was quite agile, and easily jumped over the obstacles in his path. Looking ahead, he realized that he was coming to a dead end. He had no choice, he would have to fight back.
He spun around when he hit the wall, adrenaline rushing through him, and faced the ruthless cop. The cop's steely eyes fixed on him, pleased that he'd finally cornered his target. But he wasn't about to go down easily. From his bag of stolen loot he retrieved the jeweled scepter he'd painstakingly swiped, intending to use it as a weapon. The cop's mouth opened in a smirk, and he raised his gun.
“Any last words, filth?”
His hands tightened around the handle of the scepter as he met the cop's eyes with a defiant gaze of his own. There really was only one thing to say in such a situation, and so he opened his mouth - and burst out laughing.
“I'm sorry, England, but this is so fucking hilarious!”
England groaned, and the alley was England's bedroom, the scepter a foam baseball bat, and England's gun a water pistol. America rolled over into England's bed and laughed until his sides hurt.
“I knew this was a terrible idea,” England said, shaking his head with an irritated look on his face.
“You're just so damn serious that it's hilarious!” America sat up and removed his glasses, wiping at his eyes.
“Funny, I was under the impression that the point was to take it seriously.” England started to pull off the uniform hat and jacket and headed for the door. “I believe a cup of tea is in order.”
America hiccuped, but managed to get his laughter under control. “No, no! Don't leave! Come on, sweetheart.”
America sat cross-legged on England's bed and held his arms open. England paused, and America was certain he'd leave anyway, but he finally turned around and walked back towards the bed. America pulled him into his arms, turning him around so his chest was against England's back.
“I'm sorry,” America said, kissing England's cheek. England grunted, but eased himself into America's embrace. America took that as permission to start kissing his neck and slip his hands into the already partially unbuttoned shirt. He was rewarded with England starting to go lax against him.
“England.” He kept his voice at a whisper, brushing kisses along England's neck and under his jaw. His hands managed to slip England's shirt off his shoulders, allowing him complete access to England's bare chest. England's breath started to go ragged as America started to nibble at his ear and ran his hands over his chest.
England turned his head around, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, and America allowed England to maneuver himself around and push him down onto the bed.
“Don't think I've forgiven you,” England said, straddling his hips. America grinned up at him and shrugged.
Can't Help Myself 2/3
anonymous
May 7 2011, 02:08:23 UTC
England rolled his eyes, but bent down to kiss America. England's hands wandered underneath America's shirt - a black turtleneck that was meant to complete his thief's ensemble. America sat up long enough to pull the shirt over his head, but laid down as England began to kiss his chest. England was a sinfully good kisser, and that included what he was doing to his chest. But in the position England was in, his rear was in the air, and America's attention drifted to it. While England was busy with his chest, America slipped his hands under the waistbands of England's pants and briefs and squeezed. England choked and lifted his head to glare at America.
“What? You have a nice ass and I'd like to see it.” America smiled, his hands slipping around to blindly struggle with England's belt.
“Is that a fact?” England sat up and swatted America's hands away, making short work of his pants and underwear and allowing America to admire the view.
“Already eager, huh?”
England's cheeks darkened in color, but he smiled, as well. America sucked in a breath when England's hand pressed against his cock already creating a bulge in his pants. “You were saying, my love?”
America groaned as England massaged him through his pants, and his hand snapped out to grab England's wrist. England's expression remained pleasant even though America attempted to glare at him. “I was saying that if you don't fuck me soon, I'll pin you up against the wall and fuck you myself.”
England carefully extracted his wrist from America's grasp and smiled. “I would be quite all right with that option, personally, but if you insist...”
America's glare faded into a wide grin as England pushed him back down and resumed mouthing at his chest. England proved to be an impressive multitasker and managed to get America out of his pants and boxers without ever taking his attention away from America's chest. England finally lifted his head and looked America over, finally settling his gaze on America's face with a fond look.
“I do love looking at you, my love,” England said in a soft voice, and America marveled at how England could change from an upright grump to a sentimental romantic so easily.
“The view isn't half bad from here, either,” America replied, and he chuckled at the way England's blush deepened.
“You're ridiculous,” England said just before he closed the distance between them and kissed America. America hooked his arm around England's waist and pulled him down, bringing their bodies flush together. England groaned and rocked his hips against America's, drawing a moan from America.
America kept his attention on kissing and grinding against England, but he heard England attempting to rummage in his nightstand without much luck. Things were falling onto the floor, and America winced when he heard something shatter. He broke the kiss and started to move to see what had fallen, but England's hand on his face stopped him.
“Never mind,” England said, kissing America again.
Can't Help Myself 3/3
anonymous
May 7 2011, 02:08:59 UTC
For a moment, America enjoyed the more aggressive kiss England was giving him, but that was cut off with a grimace at the feeling of England's finger inside of him. England kissed his cheek in apology, and America gave him a shaky smile in return. Rather than focus on his discomfort, America fixed his attention on the way England was looking at him. England was a subdued kind of guy and always grumbled about public displays of affection, but whenever America got him in the right mood, there was never any doubt about the depth of England's love for him. The way England was looking at him, America knew that he was loved dearly and deeply.
“All right, my love?” England asked, withdrawing his fingers and using the lube on his cock instead.
“Awesome. C'mere, sweetheart.” America reached for England, but England took one of his hands and kissed his wrist, trailing kisses up into his palm and across his fingertips before bringing the hand to rest on his cheek. America thumbed at England's face and sucked in a breath as England started to push inside of him.
When England was fully inside, he moved his hips, taking an almost experimental shallow thrust to accommodate America. When England didn't act any further, America started to squirm.
“What's the hold up?” America's voice was hoarse and breathy, and he panted, waiting for England to move.
“I'm enjoying the feeling of you,” England replied, equally breathless and hoarse. “Oh, America...”
England finally started to move, slow shallow thrusts at first that increased in pace, and America bucked his hips to meet each one. England took the hand on his face into one of his and kissed at America's knuckles before lowering their clasped hands to the bed, leaning over America for a better angle. America wrapped his legs around England's back, encouraging him to go faster and deeper without words.
America groaned and chewed on his lip as England found the right angle to make any remaining discomfort fade into near unbearable pleasure. England was watching him with hooded eyes, his hair damp and hanging into his eyes, and that was nearly enough to undo him. England released his hand and hooked his arm under his hips, lifting them off the bed and adjusting his pace.
“Oh, fuck. England.” America quivered, trying to match England's pace and failing. His body felt entirely too fluid to cooperate the way he wanted to, as overwhelmed by sensation as he was. He threw his arm around England, wanting more of him - deeper, faster, closer.
“Almost, my love,” England said in a choked voice, and his careful rhythm went erratic. America couldn't hold back his cry when England's shaky hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him expertly. America dug his nails into England's back, writhing in an attempt to meet both England's hips and his hand, and he felt England spilling into him just before he came, seeing stars.
When he came down from his orgasm, America's legs and arm slipped from around England and fell against the bed, and he hummed his contentment as England pulled out and grabbed some tissues to clean them both up. America was all too happy to pull England into his arms as they both caught their breath. At length, America kissed England's forehead and chuckled.
“See? I had an awesome idea, after all.”
England snorted, but his hand idly stroked America's chest. “That had nothing to do with your dreadful idea.”
“Whatever, sweetheart. Mm, love you.” America noted the way England obscured his face, though he knew without having to look that England was blushing.
“...and I you,” England replied at last, and America grinned, hearing the smile in England's voice.
Re: Can't Help Myself 3/3
anonymous
May 7 2011, 11:11:05 UTC
OoO cuuuuuuuuute! I certainly wasn't excpecting some action, but DAMN! That was so cute I won't even lable is smut! It was so loving and romantic (and strangly not cheesy).
OP loves you forever.
anonymous
May 7 2011, 15:13:16 UTC
This was just so sweet. ;;;;; Screw the third bonus, I don't know if I could have taken much more sweetness without getting diabetes anyway. ;A; And I just adore your style of writing. It's like you can feel the love radiating off this fill!~ QuQ Thank you so much for filling! ;;
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“Stop right there!”
He swore, picking up his pace when he noticed the police officer hot on his tail. He rounded the corner into an alley, knocking over whatever he could to slow the cop's pursuit. To his great horror, the seemingly gaunt cop was quite agile, and easily jumped over the obstacles in his path. Looking ahead, he realized that he was coming to a dead end. He had no choice, he would have to fight back.
He spun around when he hit the wall, adrenaline rushing through him, and faced the ruthless cop. The cop's steely eyes fixed on him, pleased that he'd finally cornered his target. But he wasn't about to go down easily. From his bag of stolen loot he retrieved the jeweled scepter he'd painstakingly swiped, intending to use it as a weapon. The cop's mouth opened in a smirk, and he raised his gun.
“Any last words, filth?”
His hands tightened around the handle of the scepter as he met the cop's eyes with a defiant gaze of his own. There really was only one thing to say in such a situation, and so he opened his mouth - and burst out laughing.
“I'm sorry, England, but this is so fucking hilarious!”
England groaned, and the alley was England's bedroom, the scepter a foam baseball bat, and England's gun a water pistol. America rolled over into England's bed and laughed until his sides hurt.
“I knew this was a terrible idea,” England said, shaking his head with an irritated look on his face.
“You're just so damn serious that it's hilarious!” America sat up and removed his glasses, wiping at his eyes.
“Funny, I was under the impression that the point was to take it seriously.” England started to pull off the uniform hat and jacket and headed for the door. “I believe a cup of tea is in order.”
America hiccuped, but managed to get his laughter under control. “No, no! Don't leave! Come on, sweetheart.”
America sat cross-legged on England's bed and held his arms open. England paused, and America was certain he'd leave anyway, but he finally turned around and walked back towards the bed. America pulled him into his arms, turning him around so his chest was against England's back.
“I'm sorry,” America said, kissing England's cheek. England grunted, but eased himself into America's embrace. America took that as permission to start kissing his neck and slip his hands into the already partially unbuttoned shirt. He was rewarded with England starting to go lax against him.
“England.” He kept his voice at a whisper, brushing kisses along England's neck and under his jaw. His hands managed to slip England's shirt off his shoulders, allowing him complete access to England's bare chest. England's breath started to go ragged as America started to nibble at his ear and ran his hands over his chest.
England turned his head around, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, and America allowed England to maneuver himself around and push him down onto the bed.
“Don't think I've forgiven you,” England said, straddling his hips. America grinned up at him and shrugged.
“Wouldn't dream of it.”
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“What? You have a nice ass and I'd like to see it.” America smiled, his hands slipping around to blindly struggle with England's belt.
“Is that a fact?” England sat up and swatted America's hands away, making short work of his pants and underwear and allowing America to admire the view.
“Already eager, huh?”
England's cheeks darkened in color, but he smiled, as well. America sucked in a breath when England's hand pressed against his cock already creating a bulge in his pants. “You were saying, my love?”
America groaned as England massaged him through his pants, and his hand snapped out to grab England's wrist. England's expression remained pleasant even though America attempted to glare at him. “I was saying that if you don't fuck me soon, I'll pin you up against the wall and fuck you myself.”
England carefully extracted his wrist from America's grasp and smiled. “I would be quite all right with that option, personally, but if you insist...”
America's glare faded into a wide grin as England pushed him back down and resumed mouthing at his chest. England proved to be an impressive multitasker and managed to get America out of his pants and boxers without ever taking his attention away from America's chest. England finally lifted his head and looked America over, finally settling his gaze on America's face with a fond look.
“I do love looking at you, my love,” England said in a soft voice, and America marveled at how England could change from an upright grump to a sentimental romantic so easily.
“The view isn't half bad from here, either,” America replied, and he chuckled at the way England's blush deepened.
“You're ridiculous,” England said just before he closed the distance between them and kissed America. America hooked his arm around England's waist and pulled him down, bringing their bodies flush together. England groaned and rocked his hips against America's, drawing a moan from America.
America kept his attention on kissing and grinding against England, but he heard England attempting to rummage in his nightstand without much luck. Things were falling onto the floor, and America winced when he heard something shatter. He broke the kiss and started to move to see what had fallen, but England's hand on his face stopped him.
“Never mind,” England said, kissing America again.
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“All right, my love?” England asked, withdrawing his fingers and using the lube on his cock instead.
“Awesome. C'mere, sweetheart.” America reached for England, but England took one of his hands and kissed his wrist, trailing kisses up into his palm and across his fingertips before bringing the hand to rest on his cheek. America thumbed at England's face and sucked in a breath as England started to push inside of him.
When England was fully inside, he moved his hips, taking an almost experimental shallow thrust to accommodate America. When England didn't act any further, America started to squirm.
“What's the hold up?” America's voice was hoarse and breathy, and he panted, waiting for England to move.
“I'm enjoying the feeling of you,” England replied, equally breathless and hoarse. “Oh, America...”
England finally started to move, slow shallow thrusts at first that increased in pace, and America bucked his hips to meet each one. England took the hand on his face into one of his and kissed at America's knuckles before lowering their clasped hands to the bed, leaning over America for a better angle. America wrapped his legs around England's back, encouraging him to go faster and deeper without words.
America groaned and chewed on his lip as England found the right angle to make any remaining discomfort fade into near unbearable pleasure. England was watching him with hooded eyes, his hair damp and hanging into his eyes, and that was nearly enough to undo him. England released his hand and hooked his arm under his hips, lifting them off the bed and adjusting his pace.
“Oh, fuck. England.” America quivered, trying to match England's pace and failing. His body felt entirely too fluid to cooperate the way he wanted to, as overwhelmed by sensation as he was. He threw his arm around England, wanting more of him - deeper, faster, closer.
“Almost, my love,” England said in a choked voice, and his careful rhythm went erratic. America couldn't hold back his cry when England's shaky hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him expertly. America dug his nails into England's back, writhing in an attempt to meet both England's hips and his hand, and he felt England spilling into him just before he came, seeing stars.
When he came down from his orgasm, America's legs and arm slipped from around England and fell against the bed, and he hummed his contentment as England pulled out and grabbed some tissues to clean them both up. America was all too happy to pull England into his arms as they both caught their breath. At length, America kissed England's forehead and chuckled.
“See? I had an awesome idea, after all.”
England snorted, but his hand idly stroked America's chest. “That had nothing to do with your dreadful idea.”
“Whatever, sweetheart. Mm, love you.” America noted the way England obscured his face, though he knew without having to look that England was blushing.
“...and I you,” England replied at last, and America grinned, hearing the smile in England's voice.
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oh my days. This was adorable.
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Sweet but without being saccharine and really, really hot. I really liked this one, author!anon :D
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