"Damn that America!" England seethed as he returned to his home in utter disappointment of the day's events. Or, rather, lack thereof. Again.
This was the third time this week that Alfred had invited him over, and for what? To play video games! Video games! A man has needs, and you'd think that idiot would have taken a hint or two off England's constant and shameful behavior. But no!
Not the little hip bump, cheek-to-shoulder, or house wife act England put on when America actually suggested that he make them some cookies had fazed the man. All he cared about was games, food, and "Hey, dude, watch how high this rocket goes!"
Life for America was made of jokes and childish acts, but he was scarcely ever serious enough to get intimate with England, anymore. He just didn't seem to care. In fact, he was treating his partner more like a friend he could use for showing off all his new stuff. Hence the video games.
"Whatever. That oaf can enjoy his stupid games alone from now on." Sighing, England unlocked the front door of his house and stepped into an empty, lonesome space.
No one ever visited, except Alfred on occasion, though that was becoming more and more rare. For a while, Japan would have accompanied him for an afternoon tea. Those days were gone, too, however. No matter what, England really couldn't keep friends. He couldn't even keep his lover.
He was just about to flop down on the sofa and seep into another one of his everyday depressions when a high-pitched, chiming voice broke in, "Hey, Arthur! Why the long face?"
England looked up, putting on a half-hearted smile. Right before his eyes was a tiny, cute, flying mint-coloured bunny. And after that description, his next line will sound pretty repetitive. "Flying Mint Bunny! Hey there, friend." He seated himself on the arm of the sofa, then allowed his smile to fade. "Ah, it's just America. You know how he is. Obnoxious and whatnot."
"Obnoxious? Or," FMB circled around England, flapping its tiny wings, "Just ignoring your constant hints and persistency to have him in your pants?"
Arthur grimaced, grabbed a pillow, and tossed it at the creature mocking him. Of course, he had terrible aim, so it missed.
"I don't understand why you go to America, anyway," it continued.
"What do you mean?" England replied as he stood and crossed the room to retrieve the pillow.
"I mean, why did you choose America to be that friend?" If it meant "lover", then that was because Arthur loved Alfred, but perhaps it had a point. He could still be in love with someone and not, well, have sex with them. But then, who would be the one to relieve his lust in such a passionate way? Not that America was passionate, anymore.
"Look, why does it even matter?"
"Don't get all mopey and mean. Maybe there's a way I can help you…at least for today." FMB's face didn't change. Actually, it never did. The thing always bore the classic cuddle-me-please beady eyes and soft smile. Too innocent.
"What the bloody Hell are you talking about?" England questioned what his coughimaginarycough friend was implying, but had little time before FMB flittered off. "Hey, wait!" He stood and ran after it, almost colliding into the staircase that led to the second floor of the country's manor. FMB glided up the steps with no trouble, while England stumbled behind.
Eventually, he caught up and followed the bunny to the large, ornate double-doors of England's personal library. And by personal I mean where he keeps all his books on black magic. Black magic and sex magic.
"What are we doing here?"
"Hold on." Flying Mint Bunny was already scouring a shelf, looking for a book. Because what else would it be looking for in a library?
Within moments, it seemed to have found what it was searching for, because it squeaked in delight and hugged the spine of a thick, black, leather-bound book. "This one!" It struggled for a second, but managed to pull the heavy thing off the shelf with its stubby little paws.
The book fell to the carpeted floor with a soft "thud". England strode over to observe it.
"Magic's Relevance in the Art of Sex," he spoke in an exasperated tone, looked at FMB, back to the book, then back at FMB. "What is this? What the bloody 'ell is this!?"
"This will cure your cravings, Arthur!"
"'My cravings'? I'll hear none of it!" England had the book raised in his right hand, preparing to launch.
"Look," FMB fluttered over and landed on the man's shoulder, "Page three-hundred sixty-nine."
England lowered the book and flipped through it, odd curiosity creeping up on him. The chapter he turned to was "Animal-Based Sex Magic". He nearly dropped the book.
"It says here that you can turn any animal into a human being for at least five hours. That should be enough time."
After gazing at the bold script for an entire minute, England looked up to his flying friend. "Enough time for what? Oh, no…"
"An animal transformed into a human being could act as a sex doll, but they're pretty much limp mattresses. They're mind still operates on animal mode. If you're into that. But me? I'm Flying Motherfucking Mint Bunny. I'm more than any ordinary animal. So what do you say, Arthur? You wanna' fuck?" Flying "Motherfucking" Mint Bunny spoke completely out of character.
England, with nothing to lose but gained experience, didn't object. In fact, he just stood there. Dumbfounded. As always, huehuehue.
"I'll take that as a yes!"
In no time at all, England found himself retrieving his wand from its display case in the middle section of the library. "I…oh, why am I doing this? Why am I doing this?"
"Here is what you need to say," FMB was perched on the book, now laying open on a side table, "But first, you need to think of something that…that makes you feel…well, passionate. You need an urge. I don't mind if you think of America, Arthur."
Still deeply questioning the motives behind what was taking place, England shook his head, "The thought of Alfred only makes me upset right now. But I'll m-manage something."
He studied the words, lip-reading them in practice for the real thing. When he'd memorized them, he closed his eyes and thought of the sexiest thing he could: dat kawaii aru China booty.
Shhh, don't tell America!
"Alright, alright!" England raised his hands, wand in his right. Without opening his eyes, he chanted the words to the spell in a smooth, almost flawless, way: "Dearest demons of sex magic, I ask that you hear my plea of despair and grant me the ability to sexualize one Flying Mint Bunny so I may use him to fulfill my naughty needs."
And then, in a burst of spiraling, green light, FMB morphed into the most alien human being ever.
He was, by all means, attractive. But he still sported his mint-coloured bunny ears, wings, and fluffy tail. He looked like some weird furry thing. Eugh.
But aside from this, he was also wearing the sexiest, if not gayest, matching green crop jacket and short shorts that did just enough to cover his vital regions.
And England knew a lot about vital regions.
"Well, lovey," FMB's voice was suddenly no longer high-pitched and almost annoying. Instead, he sounded like…well, like a dude. Was FMB even supposed to be a guy?
Who cares? He is in this fanfiction!
"I-I…ugh…" England stumbled around for something to say as he gawked at the figure that used to be his coughimaginarycough bunny friend.
"Am I hot or what, Arthur?" The man FMB now was advanced with a smirk and hint of laughter in his green eyes. Since when was he such a cocky little shit?
"Um…" Poor England swallowed hard and took an unsure step back. He just wasn't ready to dive into this, but it was too late now. Way too late.
"It's alright. Just let me take the reins. Animal instincts, remember? We can do it like rabbits, and you can call me Bunny."
"Bunny?"
"Bunny. Bun-naye." FMB, or Bunny, reached out at this moment and seized England's wrists, pulling the country close to him. "And you'll be my little Teacup for the night. Sound good?" He drew closer to Arthur's ear and whispered the last two words, then edged the two of them back against the nearest wall of the library.
England didn't say much, but he didn't resist, either. He just succumbed to the unusual feeling he got when Bunny pressed his lips to his collarbone and trailed kisses up his neck. He allowed the other man to grind himself against his groin and rub his thighs and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him. And he liked it.
"Here," Bunny paused to lift England's chin to his lips, "Taste."
Arthur shied away at first, cocking his head to the right. He let an uneven breath escape him before slowly turning back.
"Come on," his new partner pressed on, still with that smirk that reminded him sourly of Alfred, "I bet I taste better than that America."
Speaking of the devil.
Without much more notice, Bunny leaned in and kissed Arthur full on the lips. It felt practiced, oddly enough. And tasted like…
"M-mint," he breathed.
"Bingo!" Bunny pulled back and grinned as big as his erection. "Mint! Yummy, right? Like a thin mint cookie? Giggity giggity Girl Scouts!"
"Um, yea, whatever."
And the two continued snogging it up until Bunny's bouncing bulge pretty much bounced right out of his pants and right up between England's legs, who quivered in sexual delight like the little bitch he was.
"U-uhm…Fly- Bunny…"
"Ooooh, Teacup~! You've got me all hot and bothered~!" Bunny pressed his magically-naked member into England's crotch and grinded into him with a little half-giggle, half-groan. When the country moaned in return, he slid his fingers down to the rim of the man's dress pants and began working them off.
After a slightly humiliating struggle, FMB dropped them to the ground and stared at the only remaining piece of cloth keeping him from the prize tucked away between those wondrous thighs.
The boxers took little effort to lose, and while Bunny tugged them off, England stretched his own arms over Bunny's shoulders. It seemed to please the bunny-man that his friend seemed to be growing more comfortable with his naughty notions.
Once they were both exposed to one another, no time was wasted in getting down and dirty. Quite literally.
Bunny guided his hands to the lovely appendage that he had uncovered and rested his chin on England's shoulder.
His fingers were more focused than America's ever were, and much thinner, too. He stroked gently at first, careful and tender. The gasps of pleasure he received were like pleas for sexual mercy, and he gave it by pacing himself.
"You know," Bunny began, "My lips aren't the only part of my body that taste like mint." He smirked and that glint of humor was back in his eyes. His palms left their business with England's cock to stroke his own member. "Want another taste? I'll have you begging for seconds."
He raised his cock in his hands and nodded his head as if beckoning England to try him.
And England obediently sank to his knees.
He was a bit awkward at first, but took Bunny with all his experience. And man, could he give a good blowjob! He knew that for sure. Once he wrapped one set of fingers around Bunny's member and placed one palm under his junk, he could go to town.
He did, too. England began slowly eliciting small sparks with the soft stroke of his fingers and succulent, blowjob-worthy lips pressed lightly to Bunny's head, who shivered in delight. Pre-cum seeped and dripped between those lips and that juicy dick.
And it, too, tasted like mint.
Bunny took England's head (the one with hair, el oh el) and, tilting it back, guided his mouth around his meat.
England sucked, and kissed, and licked his lips. He savoured those sexy juices.
"Arthur, please…" Bunny pushed England's head back.
The country lapped at his lips once more, then stood and turned around. Before he could properly position himself, though, he was slammed against the wall.
His hands curled into fists. From behind, Bunny was dry-thrusting the shit out of him. It was impossible for England to move on his own at all, which he didn't really mind.
"Spread 'em."
"B-Bunny-"
"I know you like it hard, so don't bitch."
England spread his thighs without further argument. The new tone set him straight.
Bunny rested his chin on the back on the country's neck as he probed that tight, though not virgin, entryway. He was harder than [insert clever joke here], and he was in a hurry to slip his long-John right up Arthur's butthole. He anticipated it with all his raging, minty, rabbit hormones.
"Hold on," he spoke as he brought two fingers to his lips and smothered them in minty saliva. He grinned, though his partner couldn't see it, then shoved both fingers right up into Arthur. The man groaned in response, such a sissy and meek sort of noise.
"H-hurry up, damn you…!"
"Eager? I would think so. How long has it been, Arthur?" Bunny pulled his fingers out, then back in, and back out a few more times. "Hm?"
"What are you t-talking about?" It was amusing to see the "Great Britain" reduced to a huffing and pleading human being who couldn't even stand a bit of teasing during intercourse. Very amusing.
"How long has it been since America treated you? A while, I bet. You're already acting like a dramatic little slut, and I haven't even put it in yet. Huehuehue."
"Shut up and get with it, then!"
"Very well," Bunny sighed deeply and drew back, "Don't answer my question. It doesn't matter."
"Damn right it doesn't-"
England's words were cut off sharply as Bunny slammed into him with no mercy whatsoever. He cried out in a blend of answered pleading and shock at how it all occurred so fast. And Bunny didn't stop there, oh no, he gripped Arthur's hips so tight it hurt and impaled that fleshy tunnel with his schlong. Animal instincts took over fast.
Soon, the intoxicating scent of minty sex filled the air, and if one was cliché enough to notice, they could even feel the magic of it all.
Yea, that's right. Magic, motherfucker.
CAN YOU FEEL IT?
Bunny's animalistic behavior of having his way, and deceptively his way only, with his mate forced him to near his climax long before his partner. But he wasn't about to allow that to happen so soon.
He grabbed England's dick and began to rub him vigorously. It was probably the roughest handjob ever, except when he slowed down only to stimulate the country more by pressing his middle finger on that sweet, sensitive spot just below his head.
Arthur threw his head back, face now red and brow covered in sweat. He was breathing heavily.
It was now that Bunny seized a clump of his partner's hair in one, balled fist and began slapping the man's ass with his other hand, still bucking his hips. Sweat poured from his forehead and chest as he worked both of them into exhaustion.
The moan Arthur emitted sound more like a scream, but it was hot, anyway. He definitely seemed to be enjoying it, too, because he arched and bent to match the rhythmic flow that was basically the force pounding into him.
Bunny would press in and slide his hand up Arthur's shaft, and when he pulled back, he slid his hand down. It was an organized kind of kinky, sweaty, juicy mess.
"Oh, Teacup, I don't think I can-"
And it happened so fast, like blink-and-you-miss-it fast, that Bunny climaxed and came all over and inside England. Minty-green, yummy fluids dripped all over those soft and sweet buttocks, seeped out of that not-so-tight-anymore hole, and absolutely covered the man.
"I WIN," England chortled like a mad Brit and bucked back onto Bunny's now-flaccid dick. "You're not done, Bun-Bun~!"
"Oh, right. Uh. I owe you one?"
But before Arthur could question the meaning behind this, a magically magical swirl of green light cascaded around the two men and encased them in poofs and sparkles and all that jizz, and then suddenly…
Bunny was FMB again!
"Huhwhat?" England's eyes widened and he felt his erection throb from lack of attention all too quick.
"Woops. I guess I forgot how soon that spell really wore off. Huehuehuehuehuehuehuehue." Flying Mint Bunny sounded gay again. And was tiny and cute and not sexy.
"Oh, no. Hell, no! You're not just going to let me…you're…you're finishing this!"
Arthur grabbed the fluttering creature out of the air and shoved him under one arm, then prodded his mouth open with two fingers. It was a tiny hole, but a hole all the same. And with one powerful thrust of magical proportions, the country slid his cock straight up into the bunny's body.
It didn't take a long time using FMB as a fleshlight for Arthur to climax, and when he did, he blew up right down the animal's throat. And non-minty cum spurted everywhere!
Needless to say, FMB would be sore for a few weeks. Hue.