AND NOW FOR A FEATURE PRESENTATION FROM XRAWRXREPTARX THEATRES.
Jk, it's just another fanfic xD
No, but to say I'm sorry, the summer's not over yet! Here's a fanfic I've been trying to make for a while now. :D
PAIRING: UKUS
TIMELINE: 2014 :P
WARNINGS: BAB (British-American Buttsex ;) )
Enjoy! ;)
I can't believe I haven't updated my fic in a while! D: WHYGOD
But whatever... I'll get over it :P
l
(゚、7
lヽ
じしf,)ノ
-_-_-_-_-_-__Forget your realities~_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
America walked through the heavy crowds of New York's famed Times Square, fighting against the extreme urge to punch the next person who shoves him, even though it was the result of the other person's actions.
His stress over money was already catching up to him, the calculator app on his phone overloading. "God, ever since those trips I took in February, June and parts of July, my savings have gone down tenfold..." America thought to himself, concerned of how much debt he was in. He then sat at a table that was on the side of a water fountain, the spray getting tiny water droplets in his hair. America then locked his phone and laid his head down in his arms, the hot black metal of the table slightly burning them. America groaned and hissed at the stinging sensation.
A while later, while he was in the middle of sleeping, a heavy hand tapped him on the shoulder. America woke up and saw a man in a black leather jacket and what he believed was black hair due to the extreme glare that set upon his glasses, that and forcing his eyes to adjust to the heavy lighting. "Hey, kid. I heard you were having money troubles?" The mysterious man said, his New York brouge setting into America's skin, making a shiver run up and down his spine.
America simply nodded, his hair slightly bouncing.
The mysterious man handed him a slip of paper, the writing all scraggly and nearly unreadable. "This place will solve all your money needs," The man explained. America squinted at the paper and muttered a quiet "Thanks.." And shook the man's hand. The man then hauled ass, sprinting back to where his shadow originated. America raised an eyebrow, but then shrugged his shoulders and started walking to the inscripted address.
The walk took nearly 6 hours, leaving America grunting as his legs ached and his second to last resort for light dissappearing behind the New York skyline hours ago, leaving the moon and the streetlights to light the path. The street was semi-busy while cars and a few taxis drove through them.
"Very unlike New York.." America grimaced, his attitude starting to go downhill, reaching the address. America then looked up at the sign, the letters in bold neon read: Sapphire New York. The smaller neon lights under it also reading: "Girls! Girls! Girls! Live nudes and hot ass! Come and touch some!"
America then blushed furiously. "Hell no.." The blonde grunted, crumpling up the paper. He tossed it at the street and started walking back to his house, until a large figure grabbed at his waist and carried him to the back of the building, forcing America to screech and flail, his fists pounding the back of the large man's trenchcoat. The man then knocked at the door, a woman answering it. She was around 5'7, appeared between 17 and 22.Her hair consisting of long brown locks, her boobs rather large as she wore a blue bikini and a large boa, her L&M lights cigarette hanging out of her mouth, the cherry ash burning brightly. The makeup she wore made her purple eyes stand out against her light bronze skin. The loud music that sounded behind her muffled. "I got a live one, and she's quite fiesty," The tall man said, holding America against his waist like a log. "N-no.. You don't get it, I'm not a chick, I just admire their asses.." America tried explaining. The unnamed female then approached him, her face coming into close contact with his own. She then yanked his glasses off, her purple eyes glared straight into his cerulean ones, holding a stern tone in each orb. America then looked away, trying to make his bangs hide his face away from the female and her loosely haning cherry, partly because the cigarette scent got to him, and also because he didn't want her to look at him the way she was. She then straightened her posture and took the cigarette from her mouth, flicking the stray ashes, then putting the half cigarette back in her mouth. The woman then nodded at the man, signaling him to hand her America, her crazy strength shocking the blonde. "Whoa... And I thought I was strong..!" America said, getting cut off when the female dropped him, her crazy burst of speed scaring America when she tore off his clothes, quickly looking up and down his body, ripping off his underwear and grabbing it, making the other male wince and moan loudly. She then quickly turned him around and slapped his ass, making America moan loudly.Her smirk burnt onto his skin. "Yup. You're a grade A femboy.." She said, ending the sentence with a giggle. "Femboy?" America said, raising his eyebrows at the term. The tan female simply sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, do I have to spell it out for 'ya? A femboy is a young male who looks more feminine than he really is. There, you have your definition." The woman clarified, handing America a black bikini, a fedora, some makeup, and also his own little pair of sparkly black stilettos. The lady then clapped her hands together. "Alright, we're short girls so we're taking what we can get. Go in there and get dressed," The brunette lady commanded, pointing to the dressing room next to her. America didn't move, forcing the woman to go and shove him into the next room, slamming the door behind him and locking it. "Hey! Open the door! I ain't no drag queen!" America shouted, banging on the door. "Nope! Not until you put on that there stripper suit," The random lady said, her footsteps fading.
About 20 minutes passed before America walked up to the costume. He picked it up and glared at it, memorizing every sequin that glistened in the one-lighted room. Shaking his head, America obliged to putting on the ridiculous outfit. An AC vent was blowing right into the room, making it colder on his naked body. He then pulled on the bottoms, which hugged his lower reigons, making him blush. Afterwards moving on to tie the strings to the top together. Lastly putting on the stilettos and fedora. America then reached to open the door, finding it unlocked.
"Was it unlocked this whole fucking time?" America grimaced at another stripper. This time she had pink hair with blonde highlights, her skin a bit lighter than the last stripper's own. She looked younger than she sounded, probably around 17. Her boobs weren't all that big as the other's either, but she had a cute pink cowgirl outfit on her. "Don't you know that you were gonna be on soon? Candy's just finishing her opening dance," The girl said, slightly irritated.
America shook his head.
"Well you are. So you might as well get your shit together and get ready for your act," The young lady said, her legs and arms crossed. "Okay. Look, princess, I'm not part of whatever circus act of a strip club this is, but I ain't stayin' here. I was dragged here against my will and I'm not gonna become a drag queen just because you're shit job is short on girls!" America whisper shouted, blushing deeply at being dragged into this position. The vibrant haired lady then grabbed the other's neck and punched him in the face, not hard enough to bruise him, but with enough force to send him to the ground. The lady then got up and fetched his prop. "Every stripper needs something on stage to play with, and you get this," The girl said, tossing a boa and a magician's wand America's way, the boa landing beside him. The girl then left into another dressing room, the door slamming shut. America then got up and rubbed his nose, picking up the wand and boa. "Damn New Jersey strip clubs..." America grimaced. He walked to a couch on the other side of the room, slightly stumbling in the heels from walking in stilettos for the first time and from the slight disorientation from that stripper punching him. A few more minutes later, Candy walked in and grabbed America's hands, pulling him up harshly. "You're next. Go get 'em, tiger," Candy said, in better spirits, the dollar bills sticking out of her bikini showing why she's so happy. America then took a deep breath, walking down a small flight of stairs, which led to a small platform you had to crouch down on. "A trap door, huh? Not bad, New Jersey strip club," America muttered, his insult echoing into the stairwell. America then stepped onto the platform, crouching, as he waited for his que and for the platform to start rising. Soon the DJ announced his stage name (Black beauty...? I can't think of a stage name XD Whatever I'll come up with one later... ;n;)
The room was full of men, rooting and giving catcalls at him, tons of dollar bills clutched in their hands so tightly, some couldn't even hold the money to the point the bills were falling out of them and onto their erections.
America smirked to himself. "This'll be a cakewalk, sorta..."
He walked up to the pole, silently questioning everything he's ever done. By this point, the catcalls have died down and the men were just focusing on him, awaiting his next move. The DJ then started playing a song and the men just watched America just stand there, holding the pole. The DJ then saw that America was having trouble with this, and motioned his hand to get the blonde's attention. The unknown male turned around and pretended to dance, shaking his butt and running his hands up and down his body, trying to instruct America on what to do since the men were starting to lose their buzz and grew more impatient with him by the second. New Yorkers aren't the best type of people to be around when they got impatient...
So he had to act fast.
...Or get another bruise from Candy like before when she dropped him.
So then America started closer to the pole, rubbing his butt against it. The sensation of a cold rod between his asscheeks felt uncomfortable, yet for some reason, he was able to cope with it. He then looked around, his unknowing face showing to the men, who looked confused as to why this particular stripper can't dance...
...And why they were so uncertain.
The DJ once more signaled America's face over, showing him which expressions to make. America then glared at him, making the DJ laugh and give him a thumbs up. For some reason America just wnt along with it, manuevering himself around the pole, dancing up on it. By this point the men started cheering, their fistfuls of money flying in the air with full force, the smell of testosterone eminating from each of their bodies.
America blushed deeply at this, not really knowing he was capable of making a whole room of mostly men in their 30's grow erections so quickly. Sure, it'd happen with Spain, Prussia, and England quite a few times, but that was because those times he was getting banged by them.
"This is just merely dancing, an acting job. But if it's such an acting job then why is it arousing all these men? Was Candy right? Am I a femboy?" America thought, looking shamefully to the side as he continued dancing.
A couple more songs passed until another stripper was called, sending America back through the trapdoor, which his leg got caught in (Since it's maker had concealed it so well) And back into the dressing rooms.
America walked to the couch, collapsing on it and sheilding his eyes from the poor lighting as he thought over the comment Candy had made about him. The said female's voice startled him when she walked over and squatted next to the couch where the confused nation sat. "You okay, doll? You seem sad despite the shitload of money in your costume," Candy asked, providing a sympathetic ear, the scent of her (Rather overbearing) perfume burning America's nosehairs right off. But in this atmosphere, and if they were a bit further away, it'd be as faint as the scent of a skunk 20 miles away.
America shook his head, the slight glisten of a tear sliding down his pink cheek. "I- it's just that..." America paused, sniffling and wiping his nose with the black boa. "It's the comment you made about me when I first got dragged in here, that I was a femboy.. Your theory seemed to be true since I gave all those men boners and they didn't even notice I was a guy myself.." America explained, turning over and sobbing, his back rising and falling in ragged breaths. Candy put her hand on his shoulder, rubbing it. "Aw, honey. I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that you look believeable as a.. Well, a girl. That comment doesn't mean anything. In fact, I'm kinda jealous of that ass of yours in that costume," Candy cooed, slapping his left cheek. (Aww. :3) "Thing is... Our little club's income has dropped dramatically. I mean, we're lucky enough just to have this many people come in here at this rate.." Candy started. "So we've been sending out a few lookouts so we can get some girls.. Or, ya'know, take whatever we can get. Strippers aren't normally proud of doing what they do to earn money and survive on what they get based on the popularity of their clubs. Most are just struggling mothers trying to keep their families stay afloat, some are strung out teenagers that work for drug money, a few are forced into it, and only a smidge are actually willing to expose their bodies for the money, whether they're saving up for something or not.. Life is cruel, I mean, I'm not entirely proud that I'm a stripper, but I act and dress the part so that way this club doesn't go down the drain. I used to have quite a lot of money when I was 17.. But then all that quickly scurried away when I had gotten raped, hit in the nose with a brass knuckle, had my purse and everything snatched from me and then I was left for dead in an alleyway..." Candy stopped to sniffle. "I've been a stripper ever since. I've been trying to work the money back for 4 years..." Candy sobbed, her pink hair dropping to the couch along with her head. "S-so... Count your blessings... At least you have the choice to choose your fate instead of being forced into something to try to earn what you want back!" Candy cried into the couch, her tears wetting a spot America had rolled on by that point. The male rolled over and petted the crying stripper's cotton candy head which at this point sounds heavenly due to the fact he's never gone over an hour without eating something. "It's alright... Sometimes things happen for a reason. Maybe, somewhere out there, a man will be willing to give you back all the money you're owed," America said, panning his hand across the room to emphasise the estimated amount of money Candy was wishing for. "Y-you mean a sugardaddy..?" Candy sniffled, picking her head up. "Yeah.. Whatever that is," America said, once more gesturing his hand as if he was swatting something. Candy wiped her eyes with her boa. "I-I guess that could be an option... Thanks mysterious stranger man!" Candy said happily, hugging America afterwards. "Meh. No problem," America boasted, sitting up. He grabbed a hundred dollar billfrom his costume and placed it gently on Candy's head, patting it afterwards. By then a random girl walked into the back room, approached America and whispered in his ear.
America nodded.
The girl then quickly walked back out and into another room. "Now, I have to go. Someone requested me in the champagne room," America flirted, winking as he stroded out of the room, swaying his hips way more than usual.
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ America stepped through the curtains covered with beads that led into the Champagne room, seeing only one man in the back with his legs spread apart, sipping a cup of wine and patting his lap,
America approached the mysteriously familiar man, his face coming into clearer view since he wasn't allowed to wear glasses during his job. (And yet you're able to wear mascara and piercings... xD)
"Alright, drop your panties, honey. We're gonna have a fun night," The man said. The accent was lively and... British?!
America's eyes widened. Immediately.
"England?!"
England looked confused as to how the hell this particular stripper knew his name. But then, it suddenly clicked in his head that how someone could know his name right off the bat. (And especially in that expression. :P) "A-America..?" England squeaked, his eyes as wide as the other male's. "Erm... What brings you to this rinky dink club, England? Wouldn't you rather go to, maybe, another club? Preferrably one of more popularity?" America asked, playing with his boa. "Eh, I'd rather come to a lesser known club. Just like the other lesser known clubs across the country. Such as Pin-ups and... Bloody hell, what was the name of that other one?" England paused to think. "Whatever, it'll come to me. But the names are besides the point, I'm just here to take a tour of the world's biggest city's clubs, you know, ones that tend to be on the smaller side," England said, taking another sip of wine and swishing it in the glass. "Oh... Uh, I'm just here to earn some extra cash. I'm broke from taking all those trips. Like the one to the Boston Harbour and... Fucked you there, and the other trip to Ft. Lauderdale and fucked Spain there, and another trip to the World Academy and got caught in a harem situation with Russia, and so on.." America explained, plucking a feather off his boa, flicking it on England afterward. "Hm, mind if I have a seat?" America asked, seductively pointing to England's bare lap.
England nodded, patting his lap once more, signaling America the Stripper to sit on him.
America obliged, straddling the smaller male. He then wrapped his boa around England's neck, pulling England's head closer to his chest. "So, Mr. Entrepenur, how about showing me your gold bar?" America teased, slowly grinding himself on England. He felt England's rapidly growing erection poke at him, making him blush. England then nodded, quickly grabbing at America's ass, squeezing it. America slightly moaned and reached inbetween the both of them, unbuttoning England's suit and unzipping his pants, delving into the shorts and pulling out a throbbing erection. America bit his lip and pulled out his member, lightly touching against England's own. "A-aah... Eng.. It's huge..!" America moaned out, thrusting against England's dick. England pulled the other closer, also thrusing onto America. England quickly pulled down the bottom half of the stripper's ensemble, sliding himself under America and reaching his entrance, making America cry in pleasure. "Ahn.. England.. Mhn~ I can't wait..!" America moaned, pulling England's head close to his chest again. England happily obliged and forced himself inside America's leaking hole, knowing that he didn't want anything else in that exact moment except for his cock. "Y-yeah! England! A-ah! It feels so.. Amazing! Mnh! Fuck me like the femboy I am!" America screamed, lavishing in England's dick. England then thrusted harder, grabbing America and forcing him on his erection, growling as he was clenched on harshly as a result of hitting America's sweet spot. England then placed his free hand on America's head, tugging on his curl and making America scream out in pleasure, pressing his body against England's own. England then growled as he came, his spunk flooding America's hole and exploding out of him. (Creampiiie~ ;D ) America cried as he came, his cum coating England's undershirt in small splats.
Both males sit there panting, adjusting to lay down. They both then quickly passed out on the seat.
_-_
Yup, these collections of drabbles is one single timeline. :P
AND SO THIS IS THE END. OF THE SUMMER UKE AMERICA DRABBLES.
Sorry this took so long, I was.. Figuring out this thing... And... Y'know... It involves...
Well, just think of it like this, *Breathe* A14yearoldgirlisinlovewithacountryandiskindatryingtofigureoutwhythefuckshehasacrushonhim... Uhm.. The girl's not me...
And the country is DEFINETLY not America...
Buh bye! ^^'
