Author's note: FFFF I wrote this for England's birthday back in April, so it's pretty late, but I hope you guys still like it anyway. LITTLE WARNING HERE. If the sexual act of rimming squicks you, you might want to skip over that part of the fic. This plot idea was based loosely on a FrUk RP between me and my girlfriend :3 ENJOY, YOU LITTLE PERVS~
It had turned out to be another lonely 'birthday'. England wasn't surprised to have no calls, except from the prime minister, wishing him a happy St. George's Day. He was fine with that however. He didn't need a large party or anything, and he didn't need people to send him gifts. He liked his solitude. Plus, once the festivities were over, it gave him time to catch up on some reading.
The day was nearly over with and he was preparing to go to sleep, when a knock at his door alarmed him. Who the bloody hell…? He glared at the door and whoever was behind it. He sighed and went to open it. The one person he didn't want to see was standing there.
"Bonjour, mon ami!" France glided past him carrying a bag.
"What are you doing here?" England shrieked.
"Quoi? I am here for your birthday of course."
"In case you hadn't noticed, the day's almost done," he snarled.
"Indeed. That is why we must act fast!" England raised an eyebrow. France shuddered. "Don't do that, it's frightening," he said, which made England even angrier.
"Get out, France."
"Non. I did not spent all that time crossing the Channel to get here to simply go home as soon as I arrived."
England threw his hands up in annoyance. Then he glanced at the bag France was carrying and tried to peek into it. "What's in there…?"
"Ah-ah!" France slapped his hand away. "No looking! It's a surprise."
"If it's some sort of perverted sex toy, you can shove it up your own arse."
"Oui, I will."
"And—wait, what?" England stared at him with wide eyes. "W-What are you planning?"
France grinned. "You'll see. Now, where is your bedroom?"
"You are not doing whatever it is you're planning in my room!"
"Would you prefer I do it right here?" he teased, watching England's face turn even redder.
"No! I'd prefer if you just left!"
France flipped his hair as though the argument was boring him. "Angleterre, you leave me no choice."
"Huh?" Lace panties were suddenly shoved into his hand. It took England a few moments to let that register into his mind before he yelled out a profanity and threw them on the ground. "What sort of game are you playing at?" he cried, looking at France as though he had five heads.
"No game," France replied. "Since you insist on wasting time, I thought perhaps you might help me into my outfit."
England stared down at the pink panties. "That is your outfit?"
"Oui, part of it."
"W-Wh—" Words failed him.
"The lace doesn't chafe," he explained.
England fell into his armchair in shock. "Y-You…"
France ignored his stuttering and bent down to retrieve the underwear. He smiled at the other nation before trotting off to find England's bedroom. It took the Brit a few moments to realize that whatever France was planning to do, would not be good. He rushed towards his room, bracing himself for whatever he might see.
What he saw made his jaw drop. France had already put on the panties, which barely fit him. England could see several things he never ever wanted to see on the Frenchman again. He was also wearing stockings and England was confused as to how France, with his hairy legs, could make them look so good. His outfit was completed with a see-through sleeveless top.
"Do you like what you see, mon cher?" France winked.
"You…" should be pounded into the floor "…look like a whore."
France pouted. "No appreciation for beauty," he grumbled. "Very well, I have something else that should please you." He reached into his bag of mysteries and pulled out a bright red dildo. England felt his own knees buckle for a second. France pulled the panties down over his ass with one hand while he lubed up the dildo. Once properly coated, he pressed the toy against his anus, letting out a breathless sigh that went straight to England's groin. He pushed it in slowly, moaning loudly.
England had never seen anything so erotic. Here was France: scantily clad, horny, and shoving a dildo up his own ass. England tried to discreetly rub at the growing erection in his pants. But when France started to make loud noises to voice his pleasure, England unzipped his pants and began stroking himself. France turned his head to look at him. England paused in his movement and nearly came when France stood up from the bed and awkwardly walked towards him, pressing his hard on against England's.
"You planned for this," England hissed, trying to ignore how much his hands wanted to grab onto the other's ass.
France merely smiled and let out another moan as he pushed the dildo in all the way. He rutted against England's body, hoping to gain some much needed friction. His free hand grabbed England's hardened cock and began stroking the slit, drawing out the pre-cum and making the Englishman groan. Against his wishes, England's hands found themselves on France's backside, which caused said Frenchman to gasp aloud and buck forward, releasing the other's erection.
"I knew," France breathed, "you could not ignore me forever, mon cher."
Rather than answer him, England leaned forward and bit at the other's collarbone, suckling the flesh and lathing it with his tongue. France made some sort of a whining purr sound and pressed against him. England's lips traveled up his neck, danced over the stubble on his chin, and landed right on France's mouth. He kissed him hungrily, squeezing his hands on France's rump. He let a finger teasingly lower itself towards the Frenchman's engulfed entrance. He grabbed hold of the dildo carefully and smirked against France's lips.
France pulled away with a confused look on his face. "What are you…?" England didn't let him finish as he pulled on the toy harshly, nearly taking it out. France let out a stream of curses as he clung to England. "Bâtard," he hissed. England leaned forward and licked France's lips.
"Can I not play with my present?"
He winked playfully and pulled on the dildo again. France cried out at the sting. England pulled more and more until finally the toy was removed, leaving France stretched and ready. He slipped a finger inside experimentally and wiggled it around. France gasped, glaring at him.
"Are you done?" he growled.
England answered him by shoving in another finger.
France bucked his hips forward and leaned his head on the other's shoulder. "Angleterre, please," he whispered. To his surprise, England took his fingers out. Before he could say anything more, England had grasped his hair, yanking it, and pulled him into a bruising kiss. England backed him up towards the bed before turning him around and throwing him onto the mattress.
France was used to England's less than gentle approach during sex, but that didn't mean he would submit easily. As England crawled on his knees towards him, France backed up and aimed a kick at his head, which glanced the side of his jaw. England narrowed his eyes and grabbed France's ankles, trying to twist him around to lay on his stomach. England snarled and used all of his strength to turn him over. France glared at him from his position.
"What now, mon cher?"
"Shut up."
"You have me all to yourself. Will you do nothing?"
"Stick your arse in the air."
France chuckled as he lifted his ass and wiggled it from side to side playfully. England seemed to study him for a moment. "Angleterre," France said impatiently. "Have you forgotten what you are supposed to do?"
"Oh belt up," he snapped.
"Just stick it in, oui?"
England rolled his eyes and eyed the stretched hole in front of him, debating. He could simply just fuck him and get it over with it. Or he could have a little fun beforehand. It wasn't often he was able to have France submitting to him so he wanted to savor it. Mind made up, he leaned forward.
France felt something wet and warm pressing inside him and tried to turn his head to see just what England was doing. Hands moved his cheeks apart and the wet intruder wiggled in more, making him gasp and cling to the bed sheets. "I underestimated you," he moaned. The tongue pushed in further and he bit his lip. "But I always knew your mouth was foul, Angleterre."
England moved his tongue out as he reached a hand under France's legs to grip his cock. France let out another moan. England ran his tongue along his balls gently, mentally grinning as France swore and cursed at him.
"Enough teasing!" he cried.
"Whose birthday is it again?" England sneered, taking his sac into his mouth. France's whimpers were so pleasant to his ears. "If you want me to shag you, all you have to do is ask, France." He pumped the throbbing erection between the Frenchman's thighs teasingly.
France was panting heavily, his entire body shaking from the pleasure. "S'il vous plait," he said finally. "I am your gift after all."
England pulled away then and sat up on his knees to position himself. He gripped France's hips and pushed the head in first, nearly cumming right then and there as he realized how delicious France felt. He thrust in more, leaning forward onto the other man's back. "Happy now?" he breathed into France's ear.
"I will once you move," France said coolly, clenching the sheets tightly in his fists.
England thrust his hips one final time, burying himself balls deep. He stopped for a second, feeling France's inner muscles working around him and then pulled out before pushing right back in. He built up a steady pace, one he knew would bring them both to their orgasms quickly. As he pounded into France, the Frenchman suddenly let out a string of French curses. He paused, worried. "France…?"
"Keep going!" he hissed. "That spot!"
With a nod, England resumed moving, trying his best to hit that bundle of nerves that made France see stars. With each thrust, France gasped and moaned and begged for release. England leaned on his back and kissed at his shoulder, rocking their hips together. He reached a hand down to stroke France's swollen cockhead and smiled as with that single touch, France came undone and released himself all over his hand and the sheets. England groaned and panted as he felt his own impending orgasm. He thrust in a few more times and then screamed when he came.
He pulled out shortly after, collapsing beside France and breathing heavily. Neither said a word, too tired to even move. France eventually rolled over to face him, his blonde hair sticking to his sweaty face. He smiled and leaned forward, kissing England's lips tenderly. "Happy Birthday, mon amour," he whispered. He saw the clock on the side table and laughed. "And look! It is only 22:45."
England smirked, running a hand up and down France's thigh. "That means I've still got time to play with my gift before the day is over with," he purred. "Care to go another round?"
France's smile widened devilishly. "If you are up to it, Angleterre."
"Trust me," he said, rolling over to straddle the Frenchman's hips, "I am."
