Hetalia kink meme part 22
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hetalia kink meme
part 22
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So there was a really good reason that he lost! That must have been why he didn’t mind that England had managed to shove him to the ground and pin him, or even that he gloated a little by grinning wolfishly down at him and saying “My, my, America, you’ve gotten much stronger than last time but you’re still no match for me!”
But now why when he thought back to that day was he putting more emphasis on the way the sun shone through his even messier than usual hair, the flush of his cheeks, the almost wild look in his eyes, and why did that make his stomach tighten and roll?
It was then that his subconscious truly betrayed him. He imagined England closing those green eyes and leaning down to kiss him, not on the temple as he actually had, but on the lips. Their mouths opened and their tongues pressed together hot and wet and-
What. The fuck.
America rolled over onto his stomach and buried his head under the pillow. What the hell was he thinking?! This was England he was talking about, his teacher, his friend. He was practically his father!
“Practically,” He thought, “But not actually.”
“Shut up!” He told himself, pressing the sides of the pillow down against his ears as though that would block out the voice in his head.
It was too late, far too late. He’d opened himself up to the torrent of images, touching England, being touched by England, fucking him, being fucked by him… Why?
He knew what sex was. His teachers had taught him the basics, how animals and humans procreated. Then Canada had passed on what he’d learned from France about men having sex with other men, and even more importantly how nations would have sex with nations they were close to when they were grown, no matter how they had felt about each other as children.
He sat up and pulled his knees close. No, that couldn’t be true. After all, France had said that someday he and Canada would be attracted to each other, and that was just gross!
It… It was still gross, right?
He tried to imagine himself kissing his brother, but it still felt wrong. Well, so did kissing England, really, but that was a good-but-bad-at-the-same-time wrong and kissing Canada was just-plain-gross wrong.
He rested his cheek on one of his knees. He still had time. If France was telling the truth nations didn’t touch children. It seemed pretty likely because he hadn’t tried to do anything to either him or Canada and England said he’d molest anything with a pulse. America sighed and lay back down. It was okay for now. He still had years to think it over, to decide how he felt about England.
For the time being, he was safe.
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"But now why when he thought back to that day was he putting more emphasis on the way the sun shone through his even messier than usual hair, the flush of his cheeks, the almost wild look in his eyes, and why did that make his stomach tighten and roll?"
Aha! The plot (or rather UST, at this point) thickens!
Poor America, you think you have years to figure it out, but everything's about to change on you...
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I hope we get more soon.
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Oh god America as Garrus lololololol
This is seriously good so far. I can't wait to see what happens next!
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