iPod Challenge:
1. Pick a character, pairing or fandom you like. For original fiction, pick two of your characters (or make two up).
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle
3. Write a drabble (a short piece of fiction) related to each song that plays. You only have the timeframe of the song to finish the drabble; you start writing when the song starts and stop when it ends. No lingering afterward; you have to keep going
A/N: I'm using RusAme (Seme!Russia, Uke!America) because they're my current OTP. I have a wide variety of songs on my iPod; I apologize for whatever happens. I usually like to flesh it out a lot more, but I have a limited time frame; so please listen to the song and make your own parallels to better the drabble.
New Perspective (Panic! at the Disco)
Locking the door, America turned to face his current lover, Russia. He used the term 'lover' lightly. They still despised each other, that would never change, but perhaps it was the bitter hatred that made the sex so good. However, the larger nation did not appear to be in the present, despite their mutual scantily clad state (both wore only boxer briefs; America's decorated like his flag in a show ethnocentrism, and Russia's a plain black).
Annoyed that the older nation could resist, America moved forward and slipped in between his legs, forcing them apart. He nipped at Russia's clothed member, satisfied when it hardened. Sliding his slender fingers around the waistband of the Russkies briefs, he tugged, stripping the Commie of his underwear and discarding it onto the floor.
"Hurry, Amerika," Ivan murmured, almost amused. "I need to be leaving soon."
Thoroughly irate, the blond man practically swallowed the tremendous length; devouring it in hate driven lust and forcing a delicious moan from Russia.
Oh yes, the sex was good.
I Like It Loud (Myah Marie)
Russia shoved America back first onto the mahogany table that lay in the center of the conference room. His tongue darted in and out of the blond man's mouth, teasingly. His hand strayed to the jean clad crotch of the 'hero', caressing Alfred's member in a way that would drive him wild with tension. This was all part of their hate game; the manipulation of their bodies in a desperate dance for dominance. A moan broke through their heavy pants as America cried out in frustrated ecstasy. He quickly covered his mouth, startled at his own reaction.
Russia pulled the offending hand away with a wry smile. "Nyet, Amerika. I like it when you're loud."
Life Less Frightening (Rise Against)
Alfred tugged at the restraints that bound his hands to Russia's headboard. The tears that pricked his oceanic eyes were that of fear and confusion and hate. He doubted either he or Russia could ever really understand the bitterness that tore them apart every time they looked at each other; it was something long beyond comprehension. The instigative games they played were becoming more and more violent, demanding, humiliating.
As America struggled he cursed the fact he appeared to be losing these sick games. He cursed his and Russia's obstinacy. He cursed his status as a world power; a title that forced him into manipulative situations, that lacked mercy or compassion, that was beginning to scare him. Just for a moment, as Russia slid his cold hands along Alfred's thighs, he wished-of the God that he no longer put faith in- for a life less frightening.
Monster Hospital (Metric)
America spit in Russia's direction, earning himself a slap to the face. He hissed more in frustration than in response to the act of violence. Ivan straddled Alfred, tightening his own knees so that they pressed painfully against the younger man's hips.
This didn't make sense! America had fought the Cold War; he had worked his ass off to prove to the damned Commie that he was the only world power. How did things come to this?
Russia grabbed a fistful of the nation's hair with a gloved hand, pulling it sharply and taking the opportunity to shove his tongue into the other's mouth. His other hand strayed, caressing and stroking Alfred's body.
For the love of God, why wouldn't he stop?
"Release me," America spat through grit teeth.
"Nyet, Amerika," the Russkie grinned, lifting a crop from the bedside table. "You've been bad."
A/N: I told myself I wasn't going to make this sexual. The first two songs easily broke any boundaries I had set though, so I just kept the theme throughout. Looking back on them, they all are concepts I'd love to explore more thoroughly and I'm sorry to have slaughtered such great storylines. I just couldn't get into the true depth of it with my time limits. Thank you for reading this ridiculous fuck show ^^
