Aftermath of American Revolution, Possesive!France/UK
anonymous
March 27 2009, 16:38:09 UTC
We all know France supported America during the American Revolution (and I know lots of people think he did it to piss England off).
So I want a confrontation between France and UK after the war because of this. But the thing is, the reason why Francis supported America is because he's taking too much of England's attention away from him, and France wants England's affection (and enmity) to his and his alone. BUT HE DOESN'T SAY THIS TO ENGLAND. Sorta kinda implies it, but England doesn't get it.
Rough possessive!hate!sex ensues, and bonus if you get France to taunt England of taking America's virginity.
And you Reap What You Sow (Francis/Arthur) 1
anonymous
April 2 2009, 22:13:38 UTC
And you Reap What You Sow (Francis/Arthur)
First things first, I did do research for this BUT I am no history major. I also kept the historical facts at a minimum since I have little desire to turn this piece into a history lecture. And Gods, this was fucking painful to write. This is not a good!feel fic. So you're .. er, warned. Francis walked the few steps towards England's house with a sinking and heavy heart. His steps were heavy as well and his chest nearly sagged forward - that, at times, France had to pause and catch his breath. His palms were wet. His legs felt like lead, so that each movement he made filled his body with pain. How gladly would he have sat down! Yet, this was the one confrontation he couldn't forgo. He didn't want to. France wasn't someone who gave up easily. No, he never gave up. He wouldn't ever succumb to England. Period
( ... )
And you Reap What You Sow (Francis/Arthur) 2
anonymous
April 2 2009, 22:28:39 UTC
Arthur turned around slowly. Nearly gingerly. When his face met Francis', his jaw clenched and those thick eyebrows of his furrowed. His face had also gone terribly pale - so pale that England nearly appeared to look like the ghost of Hamlet's father. Indeed, he looked like shit. Arthur, who was usually the very epitome of neatness, had never looked more haggard. His eyes were bloodshot, the clothes he was wearing were in disarray and his hair tousled. A bottle of what Francis suspected to be rum lay on the desk. It was empty
( ... )
And you Reap What You Sow (Francis/Arthur) 3
anonymous
April 2 2009, 22:35:54 UTC
Francis nearly felt a pang of regret forming in his chest when he saw Arthur's face take on an aspect of total mortification. He'd seen so many emotions on the man's face before - glee, disappointment, anger and hatred. He'd seen them all, provoked at least the majority of these emotions …and yet, he'd never seen Eng- Arthur - look that positively devastated.
England didn't want to believe. No, it could not be. It could not - it just could not! Not Alfred. Not his Alfred. He stood up. His trembling hand grabbed hold of the corners of his desk. His hands shook. The desk shook as well. Images attacked Arthur's brain-he could see it all too clearly.
Francis' head between Alfred's legs, bobbing up and down. Sweat was rolling down Alfred's forehead. And his fingers were tugging at Francis' loose strands. He was begging for more. Begging for that wicked - skilled - tongue to give him more. More and more until he was engulfed by a cloud of pleasure Arthur knew how Francis' mind operated. He knew how France could wrap nearly everyone
( ... )
And you Reap What You Sow (Francis/Arthur) 4
anonymous
April 2 2009, 22:44:39 UTC
It wasn't so much the fact that France had betrayed him. England had expected him to. He had taken Canada away from him, after all. It wasn't as if Arthur hadn't expected retribution. And yet, he'd not expected France to join in so readily - had not expected Alfred to actually seek out his help. He'd not expected a lot of things. Maybe, that had been his greatest fault.
I always treated Arthur like a child. By the time, I realised he wasn't - it was too late. Too late.Too late. Those words would haunt him for the remainder of his existence. What would him haunt for rest of his lifetime would be that France had touched Alfred as well. Taken his virginity
( ... )
Re: And you Reap What You Sow (Francis/Arthur) 4
anonymous
April 2 2009, 22:58:00 UTC
Francis kissed Arthur, harshly. But England bit at his underlip suddenly, so hard that it drew blood. France hissed in pain and broke the kiss. He looked at England with anger. It cost him all his self-control to not tackle that bastard. How dare he!
Blood was running down England's mouth. It was probably France's blood. Arthur swiped his tongue over his blood-smeared lips; the blood tasted bitter. Not sweet. It tasted nothing like wine. France had once said - in jest - that his blood tasted like sweet wine.
What a wanker.Francis grinned smugly. So Arthur wanted to do this the hard way. Francis wiped the blood from mouth with his hand. Fine with him. He'd do anything that was necessary. It wasn't like he was beyond using dirty tricks. And Arthur, even if he was putting on a good display of strength now, was in a weakened state. Francis smiled impishly - nearly cruelly - as he pulled out a leather strap from his pockets. He always kept it there for special purposes. Arthur frowned
( ... )
And you Reap What You Sow (Francis/Arthur) 6
anonymous
April 2 2009, 23:07:10 UTC
Oh, he'd known Arthur for centuries. Centuries that had passed by like a storm, leaving nothing but confusion and disappointment in its wake. Other nations had fallen. But he'd seen England rise again and again.
England's backside was bared to him now. For a while, he just enjoyed - appreciated - the sight, for Arthur was still struggling and his whole body was wiggling. And that included his ass. Tempting, tempting.
Without any further ado. France stuck a finger into the man's hole. Arthur gasped. He wasn't sure whether it was in pain or surprise.
“I'm not like you, Francis. I would have never taken advantage of someone like you -”
“Don't lie to me, Arthur. You know that's cowardice, non?”
England didn't ask France to stop. The shock of being called a coward shook him too deeply. He wasn't one. Or was he? If he'd been truly strong, he'd have -
What would I have done? He felt another finger inserted into his asshole. The pain was so acute. It stung. It had been a while since he'd succumbed to someone (and that had only been
( ... )
And you Reap What You Sow (Francis/Arthur) 7
anonymous
April 2 2009, 23:17:52 UTC
Oh bloody hell, England thought, he's going to tear me in half. He bit even more fiercely on his lips. Gnawing on already torn and bloody skin. Francis entered him in one go - his cock was fully sheathed within him. And it hurt - it was the scorching pain of something hard and big being thrusted maliciously into a tight channel. It was a disgusting metaphor; however, he couldn't think of anything else to explain that sensation. After all, France was pretty big, bigger than he'd remembered him to be. England swore that there was blood running down his thighs. The bastard - that berk - had not even bothered to ease his way into him
( ... )
And you Reap What You Sow (Francis/Arthur) 8
anonymous
April 2 2009, 23:25:29 UTC
England remained silent. Even if he felt like a spike had been pierced through his heart. He felt cold all over. Numbness was taking over his soul, even though he was currently being fucked. His body was hot, his stomach was filled with - not butterflies, maybe - but something he couldn't decipher. Something that made him feel fluttery.
“No,” France said, pulling his manhood out of Arthur's twitching hole before slamming back in with cruel swiftness,” and you were never his either. You ... belong ... to ... “
Me, he wanted to say. You belong to me, me.But that would have been baring his soul and heart to Arthur. And Arthur, even if his heart was breaking into pieces for another, would have not shown him any mercy. Even if Arthur was under him now - legs wrapped around his waist and body arching upwards - he would never be his. France could have this. He could pound into him over and over again until they both came undone
( ... )
And you Reap What You Sow (Francis/Arthur) 9 - final
anonymous
April 2 2009, 23:28:37 UTC
Francis didn't say anything, and Arthur never stopped him from leaving. So, he shut the door with a bang, leaving everything as it had been before. Even if it was a lie. Already the world was changing around them. America was a new country with new ideals. France knew that those ideals were dangerous, spreading around like a wildfire. He knew that - sooner or later - things that had been taken for granted once would crush under the weight of their sins.
And yet, he knew that Arthur - obstinate Arthur - wouldn't change.
In the end, Francis knew he'd not gained anything.
--
I'll have to apologise for any remaining errors as well as the goofs I made posting this here. I'm dead-tired. I thank the person who looked this over for me! Anything she missed is solely my fault since it solely means I suck at proofreading =_=. I don't know what to say about this. It's my longest fill and I'm nervous about this?
Re: And you Reap What You Sow (Francis/Arthur) 9 - final
anonymous
April 7 2009, 23:50:00 UTC
Anon, I love you for saying that you didn't like this - this kind of honesty really makes me respect you. Because this is bleak and depressing. I could see why you wouldn't like it. I tend to dislike bleak and depressing stories myself, which is why writing this was hard. I think the intensity stems from the fact that I very involved in this fic.
So I want a confrontation between France and UK after the war because of this. But the thing is, the reason why Francis supported America is because he's taking too much of England's attention away from him, and France wants England's affection (and enmity) to his and his alone. BUT HE DOESN'T SAY THIS TO ENGLAND. Sorta kinda implies it, but England doesn't get it.
Rough possessive!hate!sex ensues, and bonus if you get France to taunt England of taking America's virginity.
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First things first, I did do research for this BUT I am no history major. I also kept the historical facts at a minimum since I have little desire to turn this piece into a history lecture. And Gods, this was fucking painful to write. This is not a good!feel fic. So you're .. er, warned. Francis walked the few steps towards England's house with a sinking and heavy heart. His steps were heavy as well and his chest nearly sagged forward - that, at times, France had to pause and catch his breath. His palms were wet. His legs felt like lead, so that each movement he made filled his body with pain. How gladly would he have sat down! Yet, this was the one confrontation he couldn't forgo. He didn't want to. France wasn't someone who gave up easily. No, he never gave up. He wouldn't ever succumb to England. Period ( ... )
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The door wasn't locked. Not closed.
Please forgive me?
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England didn't want to believe. No, it could not be. It could not - it just could not! Not Alfred. Not his Alfred. He stood up. His trembling hand grabbed hold of the corners of his desk. His hands shook. The desk shook as well. Images attacked Arthur's brain-he could see it all too clearly.
Francis' head between Alfred's legs, bobbing up and down. Sweat was rolling down Alfred's forehead. And his fingers were tugging at Francis' loose strands. He was begging for more. Begging for that wicked - skilled - tongue to give him more. More and more until he was engulfed by a cloud of pleasure Arthur knew how Francis' mind operated. He knew how France could wrap nearly everyone ( ... )
Reply
I always treated Arthur like a child. By the time, I realised he wasn't - it was too late. Too late.Too late. Those words would haunt him for the remainder of his existence. What would him haunt for rest of his lifetime would be that France had touched Alfred as well. Taken his virginity ( ... )
Reply
Blood was running down England's mouth. It was probably France's blood. Arthur swiped his tongue over his blood-smeared lips; the blood tasted bitter. Not sweet. It tasted nothing like wine. France had once said - in jest - that his blood tasted like sweet wine.
What a wanker.Francis grinned smugly. So Arthur wanted to do this the hard way. Francis wiped the blood from mouth with his hand. Fine with him. He'd do anything that was necessary. It wasn't like he was beyond using dirty tricks. And Arthur, even if he was putting on a good display of strength now, was in a weakened state. Francis smiled impishly - nearly cruelly - as he pulled out a leather strap from his pockets. He always kept it there for special purposes. Arthur frowned ( ... )
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England's backside was bared to him now. For a while, he just enjoyed - appreciated - the sight, for Arthur was still struggling and his whole body was wiggling. And that included his ass. Tempting, tempting.
Without any further ado. France stuck a finger into the man's hole. Arthur gasped. He wasn't sure whether it was in pain or surprise.
“I'm not like you, Francis. I would have never taken advantage of someone like you -”
“Don't lie to me, Arthur. You know that's cowardice, non?”
England didn't ask France to stop. The shock of being called a coward shook him too deeply. He wasn't one. Or was he? If he'd been truly strong, he'd have -
What would I have done? He felt another finger inserted into his asshole. The pain was so acute. It stung. It had been a while since he'd succumbed to someone (and that had only been ( ... )
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“No,” France said, pulling his manhood out of Arthur's twitching hole before slamming back in with cruel swiftness,” and you were never his either. You ... belong ... to ... “
Me, he wanted to say. You belong to me, me.But that would have been baring his soul and heart to Arthur. And Arthur, even if his heart was breaking into pieces for another, would have not shown him any mercy. Even if Arthur was under him now - legs wrapped around his waist and body arching upwards - he would never be his. France could have this. He could pound into him over and over again until they both came undone ( ... )
Reply
And yet, he knew that Arthur - obstinate Arthur - wouldn't change.
In the end, Francis knew he'd not gained anything.
--
I'll have to apologise for any remaining errors as well as the goofs I made posting this here. I'm dead-tired. I thank the person who looked this over for me! Anything she missed is solely my fault since it solely means I suck at proofreading =_=. I don't know what to say about this. It's my longest fill and I'm nervous about this?
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DAAAAAAAMN
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XDDD
Thank you for commenting!
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