America has always had magic. A lot of it. But sub-consciously he's repressed it without even being aware he had it… until he starts releasing the massive amounts of magic forcefully and painfully.
The Principle of Contagion, part 1 of 10
It started about fifteen minutes after the meeting reconvened post-lunch, but it wasn’t the ziti alla forno - courtesy of the Italies, who’d begged to make the food even though the meeting was in London - coming back to haunt him. It was something else, something hot and throbby and bright. It started in America’s toes and rose up his legs, and he tried to ignore it as it hovered somewhere around his lower belly. He had no idea why he’d thought bright because he couldn’t see it, only feel it. But it was, it was, a growing bubble of something bright and those other things, inside him and trying to get out
( ... )
“The Principle of Contagion,” Part 2/10
anonymous
August 7 2011, 21:01:51 UTC
The Principle of Contagion, part 2 of 10
“Stop it! Stop him-” someone - England - was yelling, and America didn’t want England to meet his doom, because he was, like, his … yeah. England was stomping towards him, still yelling at him to stop, and he looked really good in his brown suit - also courtesy of an Italy.
But England couldn’t get too close because of the bloody-purple ooze-blob. It hit his knees in a wave. He fell, and there was this horrible, horrible-looking thing lurching behind him, a skeletal woman-thing with slimy hair and giant holes where her eyes should be and long, sharp claws. They were dripping with England’s blood.
“No! Aaaaah!” America screamed, as involuntarily as he’d mmeped
( ... )
"The Principle of Contagion,” Part 3/10
anonymous
August 7 2011, 21:02:47 UTC
The Principle of Contagion, part 3 of 10“Oh God, I want to be dreaming. I’m gonna explode. I’m all … Ha ha! I dunno. I have to make up words to describe it. Fulmous. Nngh,” America moaned into the seat, long and low
( ... )
"The Principle of Contagion,” Part 4/10
anonymous
August 7 2011, 21:03:37 UTC
The Principle of Contagion, part 4 of 10
Thankfully they had pulled up to the house; England opened the door before the driver could get to it, trying to get out before America started shitting rainbows. England untied his feet after extracting a promise to do exactly what he said, which was to follow him straight to his basement.
Everyone was excited to see him home, of course, and to see America. The problem was that now America could see everyone back as they followed England and America through the house.
“So many things I don’t wanna see,” America said, and finally stopped making the fucking butterflies.
***
America waited. It was only about ten minutes before England was back, in his ‘clothes for the job,’ as he called them. He’d run up to change after he’d installed America in the basement don’t go anywhere, don’t touch a fucking thing, don’t even move, not a muscle, and his working clothes consisted of an old, black tee-shirt, a pair of faded jeans, and bare feet. He looked comfortable, which was more than America could
( ... )
"The Principle of Contagion,” Part 5/10
anonymous
August 7 2011, 21:04:23 UTC
“That you’re an ass. That you’re an ass with a wellspring of raw power within you.” America glanced up to see England looking at him, his green stare level and thoughtful. “Truthfully, my best guess is that you always have this magic, but suppress it through unbelief. Things disappear when most people don’t believe in them. But that doesn’t stop them from existing, and existing under their own terms. Wild.”
“Oh.”
England kneeled again and made a tiny, corrective-looking scritch in the chalk floor-circle. He said something that sounded like bumpkiss and a few dozen candles tucked into sconces on the walls burst into tiny flames, while the lightbulbs popped off. The candlelight surrounded them with warm, flickering-yellow light
( ... )
"The Principle of Contagion,” Part 6/10
anonymous
August 7 2011, 21:05:12 UTC
Without breaking their lip-lock England shifted to kneel-straddle America’s outstretched legs. America’s hands found their way to England’s sides. His tee-shirt was soft, cool under America’s hot and still-heating fingers
( ... )
"The Principle of Contagion,” Part 7/10
anonymous
August 7 2011, 21:06:03 UTC
“Shut it,” England said, his face growing bright red, visible even in the candlelight. He slipped his thumbs along the dips of America’s abdomen, then grabbed and pulled down the waistband of his pants.
“You want it?” America said. He couldn’t help but grin.
“Do you? You were the one feeling all fulmousAmerica felt incredibly fulmous, hot and effervescent and achey like his skin was willing to do just about anything to get England to touch him. “Yes, please,” he sighed. “Fuck me
( ... )
"The Principle of Contagion,” Part 8/10
anonymous
August 7 2011, 21:06:58 UTC
Still England stared and America felt something well up in him, but not the purple-Carrie-oozy thing: something else that stole his body’s air and squeezed just short of physical pain at his lungs and heart and told him that things could have been bad, things had gotten dark but instead England was here again. When pieces needed to be picked up they always did that for each other, like it was the only thing to do
( ... )
"The Principle of Contagion,” Part 9/10
anonymous
August 7 2011, 21:07:41 UTC
A few minutes of that pace was all England could sustain, however, and almost before he knew it he was working his hips faster and faster. He shhh, shhhed over and over in a release of breath or perhaps even a warning to America, because words had power and he should have made love to America so that he could see his face, could kiss him quiet.
America started to flop forward but England caught him around the middle with his forearm. He’d stopped talking, at least, and breathed in short, sharp moans along with England, along with the rhythm of the magic created by their bodies.
England fell forward and pulled America close with that arm. He lost his rhythm for a moment in the slide of sweat between his belly and America’s back, then picked it up again, even faster than before.
America was glowing, even here, and he was hard again. For him, for England, he was all his, he was hyper-aroused and … er, yes, even fulmous, from the magic that had broken through in him. A few minutes more at that pace and England could barely breathe but
( ... )
"The Principle of Contagion,” Part 10/10 (epilogue)
anonymous
August 7 2011, 21:09:30 UTC
The Principle of Contagion, part 10 of 10 (Epilogue)
***
America woke with a killer headache and his face stuck to concrete. He didn’t have to peel his face from the floor to see that England was sleeping next to him, facing away.
He also saw his glasses, laying on the floor next to him. He sat up and put them on and took a look around. look around. First he noticed that in addition to a headache, he had a sore ass. Next he realized that he was in England’s basement, and they’d been sleeping on a mattress on the floor. The smell of sex, tea and burned wax hovered around them. He tapped the back of England’s head.
“England! Why were we screwing in your basement?” he asked. The candles suggested something kinky, but he wasn’t ready to face that possibility so early in the morning.
England didn’t move, but he did emit something that sounded a little like a sob. “Sometimes I hate you so much,” he said, so low as to be barely audible.
America huffed. “Geeze! What did I do now?” Jerk, he said under his breath, and took another look
( ... )
Re: "The Principle of Contagion,” Part 10/10 (epilogue)
anonymous
August 8 2011, 03:40:57 UTC
This is amazingly written. I love the title and you refreshed the USUK pairing for me. Usually I just skim over fills for that pairing but you just made it amazing again. Here were my favorite parts
“Oh God, I want to be dreaming. I’m gonna explode. I’m all … Ha ha! I dunno. I have to make up words to describe it. Fulmous. Nngh,” America moaned into the seat, long and low.
America shivered again and closed his eyes. “I feel like I’ve entered an evil, crazy mirror universe, where things don’t make any sense. Like it’s Halloween all the time. It’s cold here.”
because it was England, who blew hot and cold at him and then did mind-blowing shit like this. England was too important to him sometimes; America wanted to swallow him, to ooze all over him.
just absolutely amazing. I am bookmarking this and re-reading over and over again. you are an incredibly witty person and I think I would like to marry you.
also have you written other things I can creep on?
Thank you so much - aI'm thrilled if you enjoyed it. :) (And I appreciate all the lovely comments but don't want to eat comment space-- so big, huge thanks to all of you!).
As for other fills, er, yeah, I've sort of gotten addicted to writing UKUS porn over the last couple of years, heh. I will deanon this one after I tweak a few things and have my beta give it a good thrashing, but I was so squeeful that you asked, here are links to just a few of the other UKUS things I've written for the kink meme
( ... )
Re: "The Principle of Contagion,” Part 10/10 (epilogue)
anonymous
August 8 2011, 14:38:59 UTC
wow. that is .... seriously epic. I feel sad for England though, that America never remembers. :D so much potential too. this would be an awesome AU!verse. <3 definitely loved this fill!
America has always had magic. A lot of it. But sub-consciously he's repressed it without even being aware he had it… until he starts releasing the massive amounts of magic forcefully and painfully.
The Principle of Contagion, part 1 of 10
It started about fifteen minutes after the meeting reconvened post-lunch, but it wasn’t the ziti alla forno - courtesy of the Italies, who’d begged to make the food even though the meeting was in London - coming back to haunt him. It was something else, something hot and throbby and bright. It started in America’s toes and rose up his legs, and he tried to ignore it as it hovered somewhere around his lower belly. He had no idea why he’d thought bright because he couldn’t see it, only feel it. But it was, it was, a growing bubble of something bright and those other things, inside him and trying to get out ( ... )
Reply
“Stop it! Stop him-” someone - England - was yelling, and America didn’t want England to meet his doom, because he was, like, his … yeah. England was stomping towards him, still yelling at him to stop, and he looked really good in his brown suit - also courtesy of an Italy.
But England couldn’t get too close because of the bloody-purple ooze-blob. It hit his knees in a wave. He fell, and there was this horrible, horrible-looking thing lurching behind him, a skeletal woman-thing with slimy hair and giant holes where her eyes should be and long, sharp claws. They were dripping with England’s blood.
“No! Aaaaah!” America screamed, as involuntarily as he’d mmeped ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Thankfully they had pulled up to the house; England opened the door before the driver could get to it, trying to get out before America started shitting rainbows. England untied his feet after extracting a promise to do exactly what he said, which was to follow him straight to his basement.
Everyone was excited to see him home, of course, and to see America. The problem was that now America could see everyone back as they followed England and America through the house.
“So many things I don’t wanna see,” America said, and finally stopped making the fucking butterflies.
***
America waited. It was only about ten minutes before England was back, in his ‘clothes for the job,’ as he called them. He’d run up to change after he’d installed America in the basement don’t go anywhere, don’t touch a fucking thing, don’t even move, not a muscle, and his working clothes consisted of an old, black tee-shirt, a pair of faded jeans, and bare feet. He looked comfortable, which was more than America could ( ... )
Reply
“Oh.”
England kneeled again and made a tiny, corrective-looking scritch in the chalk floor-circle. He said something that sounded like bumpkiss and a few dozen candles tucked into sconces on the walls burst into tiny flames, while the lightbulbs popped off. The candlelight surrounded them with warm, flickering-yellow light ( ... )
Reply
Reply
“You want it?” America said. He couldn’t help but grin.
“Do you? You were the one feeling all fulmousAmerica felt incredibly fulmous, hot and effervescent and achey like his skin was willing to do just about anything to get England to touch him. “Yes, please,” he sighed. “Fuck me ( ... )
Reply
Reply
America started to flop forward but England caught him around the middle with his forearm. He’d stopped talking, at least, and breathed in short, sharp moans along with England, along with the rhythm of the magic created by their bodies.
England fell forward and pulled America close with that arm. He lost his rhythm for a moment in the slide of sweat between his belly and America’s back, then picked it up again, even faster than before.
America was glowing, even here, and he was hard again. For him, for England, he was all his, he was hyper-aroused and … er, yes, even fulmous, from the magic that had broken through in him. A few minutes more at that pace and England could barely breathe but ( ... )
Reply
***
America woke with a killer headache and his face stuck to concrete. He didn’t have to peel his face from the floor to see that England was sleeping next to him, facing away.
He also saw his glasses, laying on the floor next to him. He sat up and put them on and took a look around. look around. First he noticed that in addition to a headache, he had a sore ass. Next he realized that he was in England’s basement, and they’d been sleeping on a mattress on the floor. The smell of sex, tea and burned wax hovered around them. He tapped the back of England’s head.
“England! Why were we screwing in your basement?” he asked. The candles suggested something kinky, but he wasn’t ready to face that possibility so early in the morning.
England didn’t move, but he did emit something that sounded a little like a sob. “Sometimes I hate you so much,” he said, so low as to be barely audible.
America huffed. “Geeze! What did I do now?” Jerk, he said under his breath, and took another look ( ... )
Reply
Reply
“Oh God, I want to be dreaming. I’m gonna explode. I’m all … Ha ha! I dunno. I have to make up words to describe it. Fulmous. Nngh,” America moaned into the seat, long and low.
America shivered again and closed his eyes. “I feel like I’ve entered an evil, crazy mirror universe, where things don’t make any sense. Like it’s Halloween all the time. It’s cold here.”
because it was England, who blew hot and cold at him and then did mind-blowing shit like this. England was too important to him sometimes; America wanted to swallow him, to ooze all over him.
just absolutely amazing. I am bookmarking this and re-reading over and over again. you are an incredibly witty person and I think I would like to marry you.
also have you written other things I can creep on?
Reply
As for other fills, er, yeah, I've sort of gotten addicted to writing UKUS porn over the last couple of years, heh. I will deanon this one after I tweak a few things and have my beta give it a good thrashing, but I was so squeeful that you asked, here are links to just a few of the other UKUS things I've written for the kink meme ( ... )
Reply
Reply
i laughed my way through most of it and then enjoyed it immensely there toward the end
*3*
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