Russia is jealous over the Special Relationship America has with England. Until one of America's drunk night, America went towards Russia's house spills his secret to Russia that he loves him. Smut and fluff would be very nice.
Bonus, Russia say to America "We're finally going to be one" and gets possessive of America, especially around England.
American Dream (1)
anonymous
March 20 2009, 23:52:07 UTC
This is my first time writing Russia/America, so apologies if I get characterizations or whatnot wrong, please let me know. Hope OP doesn’t mind human names. ___
American Dream (2)
anonymous
March 21 2009, 01:33:30 UTC
“Erm. Ahem.” Arthur’s ears turn a little red, and he hides his face by tipping his head backward and draining his glass of gin. “Yes. He’ll be quite safe with me, once I wait an hour or so
( ... )
American Dream (4)
anonymous
March 21 2009, 16:16:28 UTC
He waits for Alfred to speak again, but the other’s face is beginning to relax. So he’s going to sleep, Ivan thinks, and is mesmerized by the act.
Ivan watches Alfred and thinks. He thinks he knows why Arthur left him out there, in the cold, sharp winds. He thinks it might be because Arthur thinks he knows Alfred better than he does. He thinks it might have something to do with a conversation he over heard at their last G8 meeting about Arthur trying to distance himself a bit from Alfred because they were too close.
Ivan thinks about their history together, the way he’d never be able to say that. And it hurts
( ... )
American Dream (5)
anonymous
March 21 2009, 21:40:27 UTC
Ivan presses his lips to Alfred’s, their mouths firm against one another as their tongues start to brush and tease at one another. Alfred’s hand lets go of Ivan’s wrist, moves to cup the back of his head tenderly; the other brushes along Ivan’s cheekbone, cheek, the corner of his mouth. It makes Ivan shiver and break their kiss, panting, already so sensitized to touch
( ... )
Re: American Dream (5)
anonymous
March 21 2009, 23:10:32 UTC
OH MY GOD THIS IS THE BEST RUSSIA/AMERICA FIC I'VE READ. AND I USED TO NOT EVEN LIKE THE PAIRING MUCH, BUT THIS FIC IS SO GOOD I OFFICIALLY CHANGE MY MIND. MORE PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
American Dream (6)
anonymous
March 21 2009, 22:33:26 UTC
Alfred’s drunkenness makes him loose, but Ivan still moves his fingers slowly. He probes, curls, notes spots that seem particularly sensitive or soft as he watches Alfred’s face. (He’s not sure why he’s doing it, since it’s just a dream. Maybe the knowledge of what Alfred likes will give him satisfaction whenever he looks at Arthur.)
“A-ah!”
Alfred arches and writhes, his blue eyes going wide, and Ivan loses his self control. His fingers slip from Alfred’s body, and the whine that results makes Ivan swear as he fumbles at his zipper, lubes his own cock with both hands.
“You will be all right?” Ivan pants, ducking under Alfred’s clothes and putting his knees on his own broad shoulders. Ivan’s hands go to Alfred’s hips as his cock presses against Alfred’s asshole, waiting.
Alfred blinks up at Ivan. “Such kind eyes,” he murmurs, and raises a hand to touch Ivan just underneath his left eye.
It undoes Ivan, who squeezes his eyes shut and sobs as he presses forward and in.
Alfred gasps; the gasp turns into a drawn-out moan. “
( ... )
American Dream (Final)
anonymous
March 21 2009, 22:34:56 UTC
“Hey,” Alfred says. He lifts a hand, then winces. “Say, do you happen to have any aspirin on you?”
Ivan slips his trademark smile on as he crawls out of bed, reaches over to the chair and slides his shirt on. “I’m afraid not,” he says, and lifts his head to smile at America full-on.
America meets his grin and his gaze with his own before wincing again and rubbing his temple.
“Augh. Well, it was worth a try, anyway. I should get back to my own hotel room, I’ve got some medicine there.” He flicks off the bathroom light and walks out. “God, ow. I don’t even want to know how much I drank
( ... )
Russia is jealous over the Special Relationship America has with England. Until one of America's drunk night, America went towards Russia's house spills his secret to Russia that he loves him. Smut and fluff would be very nice.
Bonus, Russia say to America "We're finally going to be one" and gets possessive of America, especially around England.
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___
Ivan had dreams once ( ... )
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Continue for the love of this pairing~ x3
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please continue.
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Ivan watches Alfred and thinks. He thinks he knows why Arthur left him out there, in the cold, sharp winds. He thinks it might be because Arthur thinks he knows Alfred better than he does. He thinks it might have something to do with a conversation he over heard at their last G8 meeting about Arthur trying to distance himself a bit from Alfred because they were too close.
Ivan thinks about their history together, the way he’d never be able to say that. And it hurts ( ... )
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I JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW THAT.
CARRY ON, ANON, CARRY ON.
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THIS IS THE BEST RUSSIA/AMERICA FIC I'VE READ. AND I USED TO NOT EVEN LIKE THE PAIRING MUCH, BUT THIS FIC IS SO GOOD I OFFICIALLY CHANGE MY MIND.
MORE PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Reply
“A-ah!”
Alfred arches and writhes, his blue eyes going wide, and Ivan loses his self control. His fingers slip from Alfred’s body, and the whine that results makes Ivan swear as he fumbles at his zipper, lubes his own cock with both hands.
“You will be all right?” Ivan pants, ducking under Alfred’s clothes and putting his knees on his own broad shoulders. Ivan’s hands go to Alfred’s hips as his cock presses against Alfred’s asshole, waiting.
Alfred blinks up at Ivan. “Such kind eyes,” he murmurs, and raises a hand to touch Ivan just underneath his left eye.
It undoes Ivan, who squeezes his eyes shut and sobs as he presses forward and in.
Alfred gasps; the gasp turns into a drawn-out moan. “ ( ... )
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Ivan slips his trademark smile on as he crawls out of bed, reaches over to the chair and slides his shirt on. “I’m afraid not,” he says, and lifts his head to smile at America full-on.
America meets his grin and his gaze with his own before wincing again and rubbing his temple.
“Augh. Well, it was worth a try, anyway. I should get back to my own hotel room, I’ve got some medicine there.” He flicks off the bathroom light and walks out. “God, ow. I don’t even want to know how much I drank ( ... )
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I love it! You don't know how happy you made me.
We're should i mail you my soul to?
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