![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lady_phenyxTitle: A Sticky Situation
Author: Lady Phenyx
Genre: PWP
Pairing: USUK
Rating: R
Warnings: Sex. Lots of Sex. Plus bondage.
Summary: Kink meme de-anon. Prompt was America hasn't seen England in weeks. So he flies to London and tracks him down, finding him at Buckingham Palace/Number 10/some parliament building. England is stressed and irritable and refuses to give him time of day. So America gets a roll of sticky/masking tape and binds him with it, and then proceeds to ravish him senseless.
Chapter One
“America!” England cried and America jerked away, sure he’d done something wrong.
“Do that again!” England demanded rather breathlessly. After a moment of rapid fire blinking on America’s part and one rather smug smirk, he did, slower this time, and England keened, spreading his legs just that little bit wider.
America kept going, following the little cues England gave him, lingering at the spots that made England cry out, licking and teasing. As the muscles in England’s back and ass twitched under his hands and exploring tongue, America circled England’s hole, tracing each wrinkle, lapping at it experimentally, reducing the normally articulate country to nonsense and wordless pleas.
Encouraged, America pressed forward, working his tongue inside England, and he could swear he heard the metal of the chair arms creak under the grip England had on them as he shouted, mind clouded with pleasure as America dragged his tongue back out slowly, hot and wet and intense enough to make his mind short-circuit.
America fumbled for the lube one handed, still tongue-fucking a very receptive England. He nearly dropped the bottle and had to stop to open it while England made a complaining noise he’d deny vehemently later and squirmed. America grabbed England’s hips and held him in place, reminding himself firmly that England would probably try and kill him if he used duct tape on the fancy carpet while he bit his lip and tried to think of the unsexiest things he could to calm down the raging erection that was demanding to be inside England five minutes ago already.
England wasn’t helping, with his stupid sexy wiggle and stupid sexy noises! It took thinking about a combo of naked France, Russia, giraffes, a tub of chocolate pudding and a rowboat before he trusted himself to keep going and not come before England. He unzipped his pants and lost them and his boxers to try and relieve a little pressure, hissing as the fabric rubbed against him.
“Get on with it,” England growled out between pants, and America groaned as he dropped another kiss at the base of England’s spine and worked his finger inside, England cursing between unashamed moans.
“Ah…damn it…haaaa…fucking hell…hnn…’Meri!”
A second finger, and America knew he’d found the good spot when England jerked forward, chair nailing the wall as he tried to get away from the probing fingers. Somewhere in the back of America’s mind was the knowledge of how mad England was going to be if that chair left a mark on the wall, but it was fighting for attention with a squirming, gasping England, a very sensitive England, and it never stood a chance.
“Dammit…’Meri…not enough…need you inside…”
America cursed, holding back from coming by sheer willpower as he coated himself, hand on his dick almost too much before he gripped England’s hips, pushing in, bigger and thicker than fingers, and England was gasping as it stretched him, hot and hard and familiar, filling him so well he couldn’t think, could barely breathe as America set a fast, hard pace, not giving him a chance to adjust, pounding into him and England loved every moment of it, knowing how easily America could break him and trusting him not to.
The sudden intense pleasure was too much sensation after America’s prolonged teasing, and England moaned wantonly as he came. America swore quietly as England convulsed under him, the sight and sound of his England’s orgasm triggering his.
America caught himself on the edge of the chair before he slumped to the floor, both nations panting. Sliding out of England, America sprawled on the floor, brushing against the desk. Still slightly out of breath, he looked up at the large desk, the large, sturdy desk, an idea forming as he reached for the knife and tape he’d dropped earlier.
England slipped off the chair into America’s lap as soon as the tape was cut, leaning against America’s chest as America slipped off his opened shirt and suit jacket, tossing both aside.
America scooped England into his arms, standing easily. England sighed softly and rubbed his cheek on America’s chest. Usually he didn’t like anyone trying to pick him up, but when America did it he felt…safe. It still took his breath away with how easily America could manhandle him. He gasped in shock America swung him around suddenly, holding him up one-armed while he swept the desk clear.
“Wha…America! Those papers were impor- oof!” England was cut off as he connected with the desk, sprawled across the glossy mahogany with America pressing him down into its slick surface.
“I’m not done with you yet, Iggy,” America whispered, and through his shock England heard the distinctive noise of tape being ripped.
“Don’t you dare get tape on this desk, America,” England warned. America pouted – he’d had a nice fantasy going of taping England’s arms to the desk. Oh well, time for Plan B!
He grabbed England’s wrists in one hand, taping them together. He kept wrapping, taping England’s arms together up to the elbow. As England squirmed, testing the tape bonds almost automatically, America bent down. Grabbing England’s ankle, he tugged and laid a kiss on the bottom of England’s foot to hear him squawk before holding it in place and taping his ankle to the leg of the desk.
England struggled almost playfully as he tugged the other ankle to the desk leg, and America had to bite back a giggle. He didn’t get to be in charge that often when the bondage came out, but England was such a bratty sub, and he looked good tied up…America made a mental resolution to do this more often. Taping England’s other ankle, he licked the back of England’s knee, feeling him jerk and hearing the muffled curse as he exploited the usually forgotten sensitive spot.
Grabbing the back of England’s neck, he pressed England down onto the desk, feeling England wiggle as he was pinned, and slipped his fingers back inside England. He didn’t need stretched again, America just loved to hear the noises England made as he teased him.
England squirmed and cursed, struggling against America’s hand and the tape as America fingered him, those fingers twisting and brushing inside him, never enough to give anything but fleeting pleasure, deliberately avoiding that one spot he needed touched. America mouthed at England’s back and shoulders for a moment gently before yanking his fingers out and slamming inside England without warning.
“Wha…United States of America! Already?” England choked, twisting to look up at America, who gave him a crooked grin. Even for a nation, that was fast!
“Teenager, remember? Lay back and enjoy the ride, Iggy! Or should I say,” America voice dropped to a fake ‘seductive’ tone, “lay back and think of me?” England rolled his eyes at the bad joke, but before he could reply America was moving, and any reply he might have made was lost among his moans and gasps as America thrust into him, hard and fast and unrelenting.
England felt America’s hand close on his hip, hard enough to bruise (Oh please let it bruise) and moaned.
America gritted his teeth and fought to control his strength, England liked it when he was rough but he didn’t want to break him. The desk shuddered under them, threatening to start moving at any moment.
Pinned to the desk, legs spread and exposed, England tried to thrust back against America, something, anything, but found quickly he couldn’t do anything but ‘lay back and enjoy the ride’. America felt each squirm and aborted thrust and changed his angle slightly, seeking until England cried out. Grinning, tossing sweat soaked hair out of his eyes, squeezed England’s shoulder, feeling England collapse limply on top of the desk as he thrust, mind gone to everything but America’s hands, America moving inside him.
More than anything else, America loved it when England went limp under him, trusting him enough to let him do whatever he pleased, to lay back and give America control.
Still sensitive from earlier, it didn’t take long for England to succumb, and when America bit lightly at his shoulder he shuddered hard, coming quietly. A few more thrusts and America followed, bracing himself on the desk as he came.
The only sound in England’s office was the harsh breathing of the two nations, still caught in a pleasure haze. America wasn’t sure how long they’d lain there, panting, when he moved. He paused to admire England still sprawled over the desk before he bent to cut the tape. Suddenly getting an idea (somewhat prompted by his reawakening erection, which was begging for just one more round, and somewhat by England’s stretching and stiffening – he was thinking again, he was supposed to be too relaxed to think by now) he picked up England and sat down in the desk chair, still braced against the wall, gently shifting England to face him.
It took a little shifting to get England in the position he wanted, but England was still loose and relaxed enough to let America move him. America threaded his fingers through soft hair as he kissed England soft and slow, letting it build and smolder in sharp contrast to his earlier rush.
England squirmed slightly as they kissed, the hard, smooth arms of the chair under his thighs spreading his legs wide, America’s hand warm and solid at the small of his back. America’s free hand wandered over him, slow and soft. America’s mouth traveled over his neck and chest, a soft and sharp and slow buildup of heat hazing his thoughts and giving everything a soft edge.
One handed, his other hand still balancing England, America lifted him and slowly guided himself inside, gritting his teeth as he fought to go slowly. Once he was fully seated he stopped, giving England a moment, nuzzling at England’s ever-messy hair.
“You’re all soft and wet,” he commented. England snorted and America began moving before he could properly retort.
They moved together, all warmth and breathless whispers, sweet and gentle, lost to each other’s soft hazy pleasures. England stiffened, coming noiselessly, and America tumbled after him.
England rested on America’s chest as they snuggled, still glowing. He shifted, the position of his arms starting to ache. America reached behind him and ripped the tape, tugging it off England’s arms and letting it fall. Sighing softly, England let America cuddle him. He hadn’t realized just how much he needed a good hard shag. Of course, America’s timing could have been better, but it was worth the lecture he’d get if anyone found out what they’d done in his office.
Vaguely he felt America run his hand along his arm, twining his fingers with England’s. “Hey England, didn’t taking that tape off hurt?” he mumbled, sounding as tired as England felt. “Guess all your body hair is two spots…ow!” he finished when England tweaked a nipple in retaliation. “…guess I deserved that.”
A few minutes later England stretched, feeling the pull in his muscles that came after a proper shag. He smiled at America’s soppy look and kissed him, standing.
“Need to finish paperwork?”
“Need to finish paperwork.”
“Hm. Feel better?”
England smiled fondly at the sleepy question. “Much better, love.”
“Yaaaay.” America cheered tiredly, idiotic grin still in place. England found himself grinning back as he ran his hand through soft blonde hair.
“Still going to get you back for this,” he promised. America’s grin widened.
“Yaaay.”
Author notes:
I'd like to apologize for how long it took to post this chapter - I've been rather distracted by SOPA/PIPA and now by ACTA lately. Hope everyone enjoyed my delve into shameless smut!
I know America calling England “Iggy” annoys some people since it’s based off the Japanese word for England. I use it since this is based in modern times and America has more than likely been hanging out with Japan, and would have heard Japan use his name for England and would make the nickname both to annoy England and as a sort of endearment. Also, it’s my headcanon that a nation’s healing ability would tie in to their recovery time, so if they seem to recover a bit quickly, that would be why.
Oh, and just so everyone knows, you can log into Dreamwidth with your Livejournal account as an OpenID if you don't want to be anonymous. :)
Author: Lady Phenyx
Genre: PWP
Pairing: USUK
Rating: R
Warnings: Sex. Lots of Sex. Plus bondage.
Summary: Kink meme de-anon. Prompt was America hasn't seen England in weeks. So he flies to London and tracks him down, finding him at Buckingham Palace/Number 10/some parliament building. England is stressed and irritable and refuses to give him time of day. So America gets a roll of sticky/masking tape and binds him with it, and then proceeds to ravish him senseless.
Chapter One
“America!” England cried and America jerked away, sure he’d done something wrong.
“Do that again!” England demanded rather breathlessly. After a moment of rapid fire blinking on America’s part and one rather smug smirk, he did, slower this time, and England keened, spreading his legs just that little bit wider.
America kept going, following the little cues England gave him, lingering at the spots that made England cry out, licking and teasing. As the muscles in England’s back and ass twitched under his hands and exploring tongue, America circled England’s hole, tracing each wrinkle, lapping at it experimentally, reducing the normally articulate country to nonsense and wordless pleas.
Encouraged, America pressed forward, working his tongue inside England, and he could swear he heard the metal of the chair arms creak under the grip England had on them as he shouted, mind clouded with pleasure as America dragged his tongue back out slowly, hot and wet and intense enough to make his mind short-circuit.
America fumbled for the lube one handed, still tongue-fucking a very receptive England. He nearly dropped the bottle and had to stop to open it while England made a complaining noise he’d deny vehemently later and squirmed. America grabbed England’s hips and held him in place, reminding himself firmly that England would probably try and kill him if he used duct tape on the fancy carpet while he bit his lip and tried to think of the unsexiest things he could to calm down the raging erection that was demanding to be inside England five minutes ago already.
England wasn’t helping, with his stupid sexy wiggle and stupid sexy noises! It took thinking about a combo of naked France, Russia, giraffes, a tub of chocolate pudding and a rowboat before he trusted himself to keep going and not come before England. He unzipped his pants and lost them and his boxers to try and relieve a little pressure, hissing as the fabric rubbed against him.
“Get on with it,” England growled out between pants, and America groaned as he dropped another kiss at the base of England’s spine and worked his finger inside, England cursing between unashamed moans.
“Ah…damn it…haaaa…fucking hell…hnn…’Meri!”
A second finger, and America knew he’d found the good spot when England jerked forward, chair nailing the wall as he tried to get away from the probing fingers. Somewhere in the back of America’s mind was the knowledge of how mad England was going to be if that chair left a mark on the wall, but it was fighting for attention with a squirming, gasping England, a very sensitive England, and it never stood a chance.
“Dammit…’Meri…not enough…need you inside…”
America cursed, holding back from coming by sheer willpower as he coated himself, hand on his dick almost too much before he gripped England’s hips, pushing in, bigger and thicker than fingers, and England was gasping as it stretched him, hot and hard and familiar, filling him so well he couldn’t think, could barely breathe as America set a fast, hard pace, not giving him a chance to adjust, pounding into him and England loved every moment of it, knowing how easily America could break him and trusting him not to.
The sudden intense pleasure was too much sensation after America’s prolonged teasing, and England moaned wantonly as he came. America swore quietly as England convulsed under him, the sight and sound of his England’s orgasm triggering his.
America caught himself on the edge of the chair before he slumped to the floor, both nations panting. Sliding out of England, America sprawled on the floor, brushing against the desk. Still slightly out of breath, he looked up at the large desk, the large, sturdy desk, an idea forming as he reached for the knife and tape he’d dropped earlier.
England slipped off the chair into America’s lap as soon as the tape was cut, leaning against America’s chest as America slipped off his opened shirt and suit jacket, tossing both aside.
America scooped England into his arms, standing easily. England sighed softly and rubbed his cheek on America’s chest. Usually he didn’t like anyone trying to pick him up, but when America did it he felt…safe. It still took his breath away with how easily America could manhandle him. He gasped in shock America swung him around suddenly, holding him up one-armed while he swept the desk clear.
“Wha…America! Those papers were impor- oof!” England was cut off as he connected with the desk, sprawled across the glossy mahogany with America pressing him down into its slick surface.
“I’m not done with you yet, Iggy,” America whispered, and through his shock England heard the distinctive noise of tape being ripped.
“Don’t you dare get tape on this desk, America,” England warned. America pouted – he’d had a nice fantasy going of taping England’s arms to the desk. Oh well, time for Plan B!
He grabbed England’s wrists in one hand, taping them together. He kept wrapping, taping England’s arms together up to the elbow. As England squirmed, testing the tape bonds almost automatically, America bent down. Grabbing England’s ankle, he tugged and laid a kiss on the bottom of England’s foot to hear him squawk before holding it in place and taping his ankle to the leg of the desk.
England struggled almost playfully as he tugged the other ankle to the desk leg, and America had to bite back a giggle. He didn’t get to be in charge that often when the bondage came out, but England was such a bratty sub, and he looked good tied up…America made a mental resolution to do this more often. Taping England’s other ankle, he licked the back of England’s knee, feeling him jerk and hearing the muffled curse as he exploited the usually forgotten sensitive spot.
Grabbing the back of England’s neck, he pressed England down onto the desk, feeling England wiggle as he was pinned, and slipped his fingers back inside England. He didn’t need stretched again, America just loved to hear the noises England made as he teased him.
England squirmed and cursed, struggling against America’s hand and the tape as America fingered him, those fingers twisting and brushing inside him, never enough to give anything but fleeting pleasure, deliberately avoiding that one spot he needed touched. America mouthed at England’s back and shoulders for a moment gently before yanking his fingers out and slamming inside England without warning.
“Wha…United States of America! Already?” England choked, twisting to look up at America, who gave him a crooked grin. Even for a nation, that was fast!
“Teenager, remember? Lay back and enjoy the ride, Iggy! Or should I say,” America voice dropped to a fake ‘seductive’ tone, “lay back and think of me?” England rolled his eyes at the bad joke, but before he could reply America was moving, and any reply he might have made was lost among his moans and gasps as America thrust into him, hard and fast and unrelenting.
England felt America’s hand close on his hip, hard enough to bruise (Oh please let it bruise) and moaned.
America gritted his teeth and fought to control his strength, England liked it when he was rough but he didn’t want to break him. The desk shuddered under them, threatening to start moving at any moment.
Pinned to the desk, legs spread and exposed, England tried to thrust back against America, something, anything, but found quickly he couldn’t do anything but ‘lay back and enjoy the ride’. America felt each squirm and aborted thrust and changed his angle slightly, seeking until England cried out. Grinning, tossing sweat soaked hair out of his eyes, squeezed England’s shoulder, feeling England collapse limply on top of the desk as he thrust, mind gone to everything but America’s hands, America moving inside him.
More than anything else, America loved it when England went limp under him, trusting him enough to let him do whatever he pleased, to lay back and give America control.
Still sensitive from earlier, it didn’t take long for England to succumb, and when America bit lightly at his shoulder he shuddered hard, coming quietly. A few more thrusts and America followed, bracing himself on the desk as he came.
The only sound in England’s office was the harsh breathing of the two nations, still caught in a pleasure haze. America wasn’t sure how long they’d lain there, panting, when he moved. He paused to admire England still sprawled over the desk before he bent to cut the tape. Suddenly getting an idea (somewhat prompted by his reawakening erection, which was begging for just one more round, and somewhat by England’s stretching and stiffening – he was thinking again, he was supposed to be too relaxed to think by now) he picked up England and sat down in the desk chair, still braced against the wall, gently shifting England to face him.
It took a little shifting to get England in the position he wanted, but England was still loose and relaxed enough to let America move him. America threaded his fingers through soft hair as he kissed England soft and slow, letting it build and smolder in sharp contrast to his earlier rush.
England squirmed slightly as they kissed, the hard, smooth arms of the chair under his thighs spreading his legs wide, America’s hand warm and solid at the small of his back. America’s free hand wandered over him, slow and soft. America’s mouth traveled over his neck and chest, a soft and sharp and slow buildup of heat hazing his thoughts and giving everything a soft edge.
One handed, his other hand still balancing England, America lifted him and slowly guided himself inside, gritting his teeth as he fought to go slowly. Once he was fully seated he stopped, giving England a moment, nuzzling at England’s ever-messy hair.
“You’re all soft and wet,” he commented. England snorted and America began moving before he could properly retort.
They moved together, all warmth and breathless whispers, sweet and gentle, lost to each other’s soft hazy pleasures. England stiffened, coming noiselessly, and America tumbled after him.
England rested on America’s chest as they snuggled, still glowing. He shifted, the position of his arms starting to ache. America reached behind him and ripped the tape, tugging it off England’s arms and letting it fall. Sighing softly, England let America cuddle him. He hadn’t realized just how much he needed a good hard shag. Of course, America’s timing could have been better, but it was worth the lecture he’d get if anyone found out what they’d done in his office.
Vaguely he felt America run his hand along his arm, twining his fingers with England’s. “Hey England, didn’t taking that tape off hurt?” he mumbled, sounding as tired as England felt. “Guess all your body hair is two spots…ow!” he finished when England tweaked a nipple in retaliation. “…guess I deserved that.”
A few minutes later England stretched, feeling the pull in his muscles that came after a proper shag. He smiled at America’s soppy look and kissed him, standing.
“Need to finish paperwork?”
“Need to finish paperwork.”
“Hm. Feel better?”
England smiled fondly at the sleepy question. “Much better, love.”
“Yaaaay.” America cheered tiredly, idiotic grin still in place. England found himself grinning back as he ran his hand through soft blonde hair.
“Still going to get you back for this,” he promised. America’s grin widened.
“Yaaay.”
Author notes:
I'd like to apologize for how long it took to post this chapter - I've been rather distracted by SOPA/PIPA and now by ACTA lately. Hope everyone enjoyed my delve into shameless smut!
I know America calling England “Iggy” annoys some people since it’s based off the Japanese word for England. I use it since this is based in modern times and America has more than likely been hanging out with Japan, and would have heard Japan use his name for England and would make the nickname both to annoy England and as a sort of endearment. Also, it’s my headcanon that a nation’s healing ability would tie in to their recovery time, so if they seem to recover a bit quickly, that would be why.
Oh, and just so everyone knows, you can log into Dreamwidth with your Livejournal account as an OpenID if you don't want to be anonymous. :)
no subject
Date: 2012-01-29 06:44 am (UTC)