Let the Dress Talk! [2/4]
anonymous
December 20 2011, 07:15:48 UTC
[Ugh, I hate character limits.]
“Japan designed this dress, I’m sure of it,” America slowly smirked, finally realising what actually happened as he remembered his last conversation with the Asian nation, “and I think I said something to him about you actually very suitable for wearing this-“ America ducked in time to avoid a white high heels shoe hurling towards him, barely missing Nantucket by an inch. He grinned at England, whose face was currently red, his thick eyebrows scrunched together and his green eyes burning with the fire of fury.
“I’m going to fucking kill you!” he roared and leaped towards America, ready to launch an attack-
-and accidentally tripped on his own dress, falling face first to the hard, cold tiled floor.
The honey-blonde haired nation started to shake in content for holding back a boisterous laugh, his face turned pink and his cheeks puffed. Oh, England looked so hilarious, with a (slender, long) leg sticking up in the air, light blonde hair decorated with tiara tousled messily, and dress hiked up until it revealed the island nation’s smooth calves. He snorted in delight as England struggled to stand back up, only to fail miserably as his dress kept him slipping on the surface. Finally America chuckled and walked towards the poor nation and reached a hand to help the other stand. “You okay?”
England really wanted to slap the hand away and said that he would be fine alone, but decided against it. He had been struggling to pry the dress off his body for almost an hour before America came home with no result, and because he couldn’t go out of America’s House with this outfit, he was left with no choice. “Oh, belt up, you wanker, and just help me out of this hideous dress already!”
America’s grin went wider.
It took almost an hour to let England’s hands off the sleeves, and now they were stuck from waist below. “...What are we gonna do?” America asked, fiddling with the material as England straddled his lap. “Why don’t we just rip this dress apart?”
“No. I’m going to get out of this dress without damaging it,” England snorted, twitching a little when America’s fingertips brushed against his skin, “I’m going to make that frog pay for dressing me up like this by dressing him exactly with this dress!”
“And Japan?” America raised an eyebrow.
“...he can wait,” finally England murmured. “After all, I believe he’s not fully guilty,” he turned to glare at America, “you’re the one who inspired him.”
America laughed. “Well but I do think that I’m right. You’re very pretty wearing this dress, you know,” he offered his flustered lover a grin, “I’m even thinking that we should probably marry now.”
England turned scarlet. “What the hell are you talking about?” he scolded the younger nation half-heartedly, avoiding the other’s burning gaze onto him. “I should probably get out of this dress first. And then we’ll talk.”
“But how we’re supposed to get the dress off if you’re not willing to shred it?” America’s grin turned into a frown. “I don’t think we can even slide it off your waist; it’s almost a fit for you.”
“Well... Uh, try tugging it downwards. Can you manage it?” England said, lifting his hips up slightly. “Help me.”
America nodded and slipped his fingers beneath the cloth and tried tugging it a few times. It did slide out a bit, just a bit. The blue-eyed nation puffed in dissatisfaction. “We have to rip this off, England. Unless you want to get stuck with this thing forever,” he narrowed his eyes, “How did they get you into this dress, anyway?”
“How should I know that?” England said bitterly. “Come on, let’s try again. Tug in downwards, and I’ll try lifting myself at the same time. If it’s ripped a bit, I can mend it later.”
“Okay...” America huffed, hooking his fingers into the cloth again, his fingertips brushing lightly on England’s skin and giving the older nation light shudders. “Here we go, all or nothing.”
England nodded and circled his arms around America’s neck, resting his chin on the spectacled nation and lifted his hips as he felt America tugging at the material. The dress still didn’t budge in one tug, so they tried again and again.
Let the Dress Talk! [3/4]
anonymous
December 20 2011, 07:18:03 UTC
It took five attempts to get the blasted dress to finally slide pass England’s thighs. Both nations sighed in relief at the moment the dress slipped down smoothly, and England quickly ditched it on the floor.
“Huh,” America raised one eyebrow, his hands resting on England’s now exposed thighs, “I guess...they didn’t provide you with the dress only?” he grinned, his wrists sliding up and down on the stocking England was wearing beneath the length of the skirt. “And...what the hell, panties? France didn’t strip you fully naked, did he?”
“How should I know? I was unconscious!” England blushed and quickly jumped off America’s lap, but was hindered by said nation’s strong arms holding him tight. “Let go, America. I need to change. You have some shirt and...uh, possibly new boxers with you, right?”
“Nope. Not a chance I’m getting my prey away,” America grinned and tightened his hold around the smaller nation, “You have idea how sexy you are right now?”
“I feel cold and ridiculous,” England pouted, looking down at his bare abdomen, “not sexy.” He finished off lamely.
“So let me tell you that you look absolutely hot now,” America gave his lover a stupid, but comforting grin, “I didn’t regret telling Japan that you did look good with the dress, ‘cause you are, baby.”
“Wha-“ England was out of words, face red like a ripe tomato. He managed a few weak punches on America’s arm and murmured a quiet protest. America just laughed it off and kissed England.
After all, it wasn’t such a very bad day. America could have worse.
Let the Dress Talk! [4/4]
anonymous
December 20 2011, 07:26:20 UTC
- Omake
It was such a bright day when the nations of the world finally gathered together for an annual meeting, America holding England’s hand tight despite the island nation’s protest. (“Stop it, wanker! You’re going to give them wrong assumptions!”)
“Alright! It seems that everybody is present today... Huh?” Germany blinked at the vacant seat beside England. “Whose seat is that?”
“I believe,” America was the one who answered, his tone eerily cheerful and his face bright, “It was France who is absent!”
“Eeeh? What happened to big brother France, I wonder?” Italy made a sad face, twirling his pasta around his fork. “I hope he’s alright, ve~”
“Oh, I’m sure he is!” America gave his boyfriend a playful wink, before glancing at Japan, whose face was full of terror. “I wonder what’s he doing now? Ahahahaha~!”
The meeting room went silent for a while.
“Like, how do you know?” Poland suddenly interrupted the silence.
“Oh well... Because he messed around with my boyfriend last week?” America brought England into his embrace, who turned bright red and struggled against the hold to no avail.
The eyes of the meeting participants automatically directed onto England. The small nation gave up and hid his face in his hands. “Please... Don’t ask. Let’s just start the meeting already.”
[And there you go~ I know this is not too good, ugh... Bad humour as I had said earlier OTL. And an early Merry Christmas to you all! :D]
Re: Let the Dress Talk! [4/4]
anonymous
December 29 2011, 05:50:23 UTC
I need to learn to read intros more carefully..:( It was a little confusing at the beginning, because I couldn't figure out til the end that America and England were already in a relationship.
“Japan designed this dress, I’m sure of it,” America slowly smirked, finally realising what actually happened as he remembered his last conversation with the Asian nation, “and I think I said something to him about you actually very suitable for wearing this-“
America ducked in time to avoid a white high heels shoe hurling towards him, barely missing Nantucket by an inch. He grinned at England, whose face was currently red, his thick eyebrows scrunched together and his green eyes burning with the fire of fury.
“I’m going to fucking kill you!” he roared and leaped towards America, ready to launch an attack-
-and accidentally tripped on his own dress, falling face first to the hard, cold tiled floor.
The honey-blonde haired nation started to shake in content for holding back a boisterous laugh, his face turned pink and his cheeks puffed. Oh, England looked so hilarious, with a (slender, long) leg sticking up in the air, light blonde hair decorated with tiara tousled messily, and dress hiked up until it revealed the island nation’s smooth calves. He snorted in delight as England struggled to stand back up, only to fail miserably as his dress kept him slipping on the surface. Finally America chuckled and walked towards the poor nation and reached a hand to help the other stand. “You okay?”
England really wanted to slap the hand away and said that he would be fine alone, but decided against it. He had been struggling to pry the dress off his body for almost an hour before America came home with no result, and because he couldn’t go out of America’s House with this outfit, he was left with no choice. “Oh, belt up, you wanker, and just help me out of this hideous dress already!”
America’s grin went wider.
It took almost an hour to let England’s hands off the sleeves, and now they were stuck from waist below. “...What are we gonna do?” America asked, fiddling with the material as England straddled his lap. “Why don’t we just rip this dress apart?”
“No. I’m going to get out of this dress without damaging it,” England snorted, twitching a little when America’s fingertips brushed against his skin, “I’m going to make that frog pay for dressing me up like this by dressing him exactly with this dress!”
“And Japan?” America raised an eyebrow.
“...he can wait,” finally England murmured. “After all, I believe he’s not fully guilty,” he turned to glare at America, “you’re the one who inspired him.”
America laughed. “Well but I do think that I’m right. You’re very pretty wearing this dress, you know,” he offered his flustered lover a grin, “I’m even thinking that we should probably marry now.”
England turned scarlet. “What the hell are you talking about?” he scolded the younger nation half-heartedly, avoiding the other’s burning gaze onto him. “I should probably get out of this dress first. And then we’ll talk.”
“But how we’re supposed to get the dress off if you’re not willing to shred it?” America’s grin turned into a frown. “I don’t think we can even slide it off your waist; it’s almost a fit for you.”
“Well... Uh, try tugging it downwards. Can you manage it?” England said, lifting his hips up slightly. “Help me.”
America nodded and slipped his fingers beneath the cloth and tried tugging it a few times. It did slide out a bit, just a bit. The blue-eyed nation puffed in dissatisfaction. “We have to rip this off, England. Unless you want to get stuck with this thing forever,” he narrowed his eyes, “How did they get you into this dress, anyway?”
“How should I know that?” England said bitterly. “Come on, let’s try again. Tug in downwards, and I’ll try lifting myself at the same time. If it’s ripped a bit, I can mend it later.”
“Okay...” America huffed, hooking his fingers into the cloth again, his fingertips brushing lightly on England’s skin and giving the older nation light shudders. “Here we go, all or nothing.”
England nodded and circled his arms around America’s neck, resting his chin on the spectacled nation and lifted his hips as he felt America tugging at the material. The dress still didn’t budge in one tug, so they tried again and again.
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“Huh,” America raised one eyebrow, his hands resting on England’s now exposed thighs, “I guess...they didn’t provide you with the dress only?” he grinned, his wrists sliding up and down on the stocking England was wearing beneath the length of the skirt. “And...what the hell, panties? France didn’t strip you fully naked, did he?”
“How should I know? I was unconscious!” England blushed and quickly jumped off America’s lap, but was hindered by said nation’s strong arms holding him tight. “Let go, America. I need to change. You have some shirt and...uh, possibly new boxers with you, right?”
“Nope. Not a chance I’m getting my prey away,” America grinned and tightened his hold around the smaller nation, “You have idea how sexy you are right now?”
“I feel cold and ridiculous,” England pouted, looking down at his bare abdomen, “not sexy.” He finished off lamely.
“So let me tell you that you look absolutely hot now,” America gave his lover a stupid, but comforting grin, “I didn’t regret telling Japan that you did look good with the dress, ‘cause you are, baby.”
“Wha-“ England was out of words, face red like a ripe tomato. He managed a few weak punches on America’s arm and murmured a quiet protest.
America just laughed it off and kissed England.
After all, it wasn’t such a very bad day. America could have worse.
Reply
It was such a bright day when the nations of the world finally gathered together for an annual meeting, America holding England’s hand tight despite the island nation’s protest. (“Stop it, wanker! You’re going to give them wrong assumptions!”)
“Alright! It seems that everybody is present today... Huh?” Germany blinked at the vacant seat beside England. “Whose seat is that?”
“I believe,” America was the one who answered, his tone eerily cheerful and his face bright, “It was France who is absent!”
“Eeeh? What happened to big brother France, I wonder?” Italy made a sad face, twirling his pasta around his fork. “I hope he’s alright, ve~”
“Oh, I’m sure he is!” America gave his boyfriend a playful wink, before glancing at Japan, whose face was full of terror. “I wonder what’s he doing now? Ahahahaha~!”
The meeting room went silent for a while.
“Like, how do you know?” Poland suddenly interrupted the silence.
“Oh well... Because he messed around with my boyfriend last week?” America brought England into his embrace, who turned bright red and struggled against the hold to no avail.
The eyes of the meeting participants automatically directed onto England. The small nation gave up and hid his face in his hands. “Please... Don’t ask. Let’s just start the meeting already.”
[And there you go~ I know this is not too good, ugh... Bad humour as I had said earlier OTL. And an early Merry Christmas to you all! :D]
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Oh well, it was cute, anon!
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