#usuk fic

[rosedrabbles]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapter ten of On The Watch is up! It's on the short side this time around but hopefully it's a good little read. The next chapter should be a bit longer. (also please ignore the fact that it's been three years since an update >>;)

[gaianaa]

📜; First Parchment – Tea Set

Disclaimer: Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz

Rate: T

Genres: Romance, Comedy, Fluff

Main pair: US/Nyo!England | Alfred/Alice

POV: Nyo!England (Alice)

Warnings: Ignore timestamps, OOC, typos, etc.

“Gue itu Jack of Spades, bukan babysitter Raja!” — Wang Yao, Jack of Spades.

“Gue kalau di posisi Ratu juga bakal ngamuk, sih.” — Wang Yao, Jack of Spades (again).

“Kalau kakak gue udah pake ‘lu-gue’ ke rajanya, berarti dia marah besar.”

“Gua juga tahu soal itu, Petey.”

“NAMA GUE PETER. PETEY TEH SAHA?!”

(Terjemahan: Petey itu siapa?!)

Tengah malem emang enaknya nonton drama.😎🍿

“Sesuai nama grup ‘Royal Clowns’, monarchs Empat Kerajaan—kecuali gua sama adek gua—aslinya kumpulan badut.”

— Basch Zwingli, Jack of Diamonds.

Harus, mesti, kudu, wajib diunggah di Twitter.👍🏻

“Biasanya doi melting kalau gue panggil ‘Sweetheart’ ....”

— Alfred F. Jones, King of Spades galau mode.

“Tadinya keukeuh mau tidur di depan pintu kamar Ratu. Tapi, pas Ratu nyuruh dia buat tidur di kamarnya, baru mau pindah. Dia mikirnya Ratu peduli. Padahal, kebalikannya.”

“Yao! Lu punya dendam kesumat sama gue, ya?!”

“Nah, itu tahu.”

—; end of the first parchment 📜

(p.s: the next parchment may be not related with this one!)

[rosedrabbles]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: America/England (Hetalia) Characters: England (Hetalia), America (Hetalia), France (Hetalia), OC's as needed, Belgium (Hetalia), Japan (Hetalia), Russia (Hetalia), Prussia (Hetalia), And probably many more tbd Additional Tags: USUK - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate Watches, Kind of futuristic setting, Self-Harm, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Romance, Kind of office setting, Past France/England - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Human Summary:

Set in a futuristic world where people meet their soulmates by the countdown of their implanted watches, Arthur Kirkland is a current writer for a media outlet, one that specializes in romance and anything soulmate related. He struggles to find passion in his current work, most likely due to his previously failed relationship and his broken watch. Can watches even be broken? Or is it just him?

Finding the answers to these questions might be more than he bargained for as he learns more about the creation of the watches and the people behind them, and perhaps even more about love.

[rosedrabbles]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I haven’t been active in this fandom in awhile, but I wanted to share my latest story that I am working on. It’s a different take on the soulmate watch AU. 

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers Rating: Mature Relationships: America/England (Hetalia) Characters: America (Hetalia), England (Hetalia), France (Hetalia), and many more tbd Warnings: Some descriptions of self-harm Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate Watches, Kind of futuristic setting, slow burn Summary: Set in a futuristic world where people meet their soulmates by the countdown of their implanted watches, Arthur Kirkland is a current writer for a media outlet, one that specializes in romance and anything soulmate related. He struggles to find passion in his current work, most likely due to his previously failed relationship and his broken watch. Can watches even be broken? Or is it just him? Finding the answers to these questions might be more than he bargained for as he learns more about the creation of the watches and the people behind them, and perhaps even more about love.

[deafseries]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

my newest installment to the DEAF series,,,,wild

keep in mind that these fics are LEMONS.........read at ur own risk

Arthur didn't set out to tease Alfred. Not really, at least.

After a meeting between their bosses, a dinner  party was to be held. Of course, neither of the countries really had a choice in the matter of going. Despite the food, Arthur had found it boring. Just a bunch of old people talking like they knew things better than he did. He'd scowl when they didn't take him seriously, and they'd scoff about him being not as proper as he used to be.

Assholes.

Then Alfred caught his eye across the room. Engaged in an animated conversation, grinning largley as he talked with his hands. The two of them had met up earlier in the day for breakfast and a shag at Arthur's hotel room that made his eyes roll back in his head.

Arthur couldn't stop thinking about it, that was all.

That's why he ended up shooting Alfred bedroom eyes across the room. Try and test what would make Alfred squirm the most. Apparently what it was, was leaning against one of the tables and wiggling his leg so it gave Alfred the illusion of the Englishman spreading them for him.

Alfred had just turned pink and looked away.

"Are you avoiding me?" Arthur asked innocently when he finally approached Alfred, away from the gaggle of politicians.

"Avoiding you?" Alfred asked right back. Too bad Alfred wasn't that good at acting. "I was not."

"Mhm. Then why haven't you spoken to me?"

Alfred cast his gaze away. "Busy."

Sounded likely. Arthur forced a pout. "Did I do something? I thought you wanted me."

"Arthur..."

"Yes, Alfred?"

Alfred gave him a look that absolutely screamed lust. The American glanced warily at the crowd.

"Don't say my name like that. You'll make me lose it."

Arthur grinned sharkishly.

"Why don't you come back too my hotel room again and we can both drop this silly old act."

Alfred bit his lip, Arthur could neatly see him weighing the pros and cons.

"Fine. Let's go quickly."

And they were off

~~

"I want you," Alfred whispered as Arthur unlocked his hotel room. "I want you so bad."

Arthur cast a glance over his shoulder as he stepped into the room.

"C'mon, then. Don't be shy," Arthur purred, hearing Alfred's footsteps snapping hard behind him.Then the other's hands were on him, and in a rush of movement he was being pressed, stomach first against the wall.

"You've been teasing me all day...." Alfred hissed in his ear, and Arthur couldn't help but curl up into the hot embrace of the other. "you gotta knock that off. Other people were looking at you."

Arthur groaned, Alfred's hips slowly but steadily beginning to work against his ass. Alfred was hard, and making it very apparent that he was. It almost made Arthur lightheaded- that he could get Alfred so worked up so quickly.

"Maybe one of them will give me a real fuck," Arthur muttered back. Though he didn't mean it, he did know exactly what buttons to press to get Alfred to press his.

And sure enough, his sentance got him another hard shove forwards towards the wall. He was being sandwitched, between the wall and Alfred's hot chest and erection.

He couldn't be happier.

Alfred made a soft humming noise in his ear, hand slipping down to trail over Arthur's sensitive thigh and up into his pants. Arthur shuddered under the light, almost tortourus touch.

"Sure. Like the one I gave you this morning? You didn't seem to be complaining then."

"Oh, God..." Was Arthur's only response as his partner squeezed him through his boxers. His other hand fumbled blindly, eventually working off Arthur's belt and zipping down his pants.

"I think, actually, a lot of people heard you enjoying yourself. You know that everybody knows you're actually like this right?"

Arthur's legs were going weak. Alfred's hand had wrapped firmly around his member, and he was jerking him slowly. He felt like whining, Alfred working his cock and rutting against his ass slowly. He wanted Alfred inside of him, pulling his hair, biting his neck-

"Holy fuck," Arthur panted, hips stuttering forwards, desperately into Alfred's hand. Fuck, and when Alfred twisted his wrist like that-

Arthur came much earlier than he thought he would, making a mess of the American's hand and the hotel wall. His knees shook, and if it weren't for Alfred holding him up, he surely would have collapsed.

"Did you just cum?" Alfred asked after a moment of pause, the shock evident in his voice.

"Mhm." Arthur's head rolled to the side as he tried to catch his breath. "So what? You think I can't go again?"

The affect of that sentance was immediete, Alfred rutting once more against him, and then quickly beginning to undo his pants.

"Of course you can. Nasty bitch."

Arthur sucked in a breath, the name going straight to his dick. It was nice to let Alfred boss him around like that. It was so much rarer than anyone else, so much...Nicer.

The other blonde had noticed Arthur's sudden silence after the name-calling, though didn't take it as a negative reaction.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot you liked that. All the names and stuff." Alfred nipped at his neck, eliciting a sharp moan from Arthur. "Masochist. How many people have you slept with since I fucked you this morning?"

"Ah-" Arthur couldn't respond. Not with the sound of Alfred shuffling in his pockets, and the farmiliar sound of the bottle of lube cracking open. "You brought lube with you...?" he eventually panted, almost in a teasing tone. What he got back was a sharp smack on the ass.

"Yeah. Knowing how much of a slut you are, I thought you'd try to jump me." It was said matter-of-factly, and that just made Arthur harder.

"Bitch." Arthur snipped defensively, but the irritation dissolved as Alfred pushed two fingers inside of him. A wave of pleasure rolled over him, nails scraping for purchase against the wall and getting nothing.

"You're the bitch. You're my bitch." Alfred muttered against his ear, hot breath wafting against his skin. Alfred's fingers worked inside of him, and he shuddered.

"Am not..." He muttered in response, eyes flickering closed.

"Yes you are." Suddenly, the finger stilled. "Bark."

"Huh...?"

"Bark for me and I'll fuck you."

Arthur groaned, pressing his forehead against the wall. His face was heated in embarassment and arousal.

"Alfred..."

"C'mon, bitch. You can do it."

"You're so mean." Arthur wiggled his hips for some kind of pleasure. When he got nothing, he tried again but with a different approach. "Daddy..."

Alfred's fingers immedietly jerked inside of him, in surprise or arousal, it didn't matter.

"That's dirty." Alfred muttered, slowly beginning to work his fingers once more. "That's cheating."

"Do something about it."

"Maybe I will.." And the fingers dissapeared, and were quickly replaced by Alfred's cock. Arthur nearly yelped, though not in pain. Alfred fit obscenely snug inside of him, and he was still streched out from their session that morning. So this brought a farmiliar, but welcome and pleasureable sting to his body.

"Say it again." Alfred was panting now, but his words were clear.

"Daddy..." Arthur whined in response.

And with a shove, Alfred was off. Hitting deep and hard within Arthur, drawing small yelps and whines from him. Alfred's nails dug into his hips, moving him this way and that with an air of dominance that made Arthur feel like he was choking.

Or maybe it was just Alfred's hand coming up, pressing against his throat. It would ocasionally tighten, leaving Arthur gasping for breath. He could feel drool pooling out of his open mouth and onto Allfred's hand.

Neither of them seemed to care.

Arthur gasped as the other suddenly pulled out, leaving him dizzy for a moment. He had half a mind to lift his legs when Alfred tugged his pants off the rest of the way. Then he was being roughly turned around, lifted, and fucked once more.

He locked his legs around Alfred's hips, the new angle hitting Arthur straight against his prostate.

"O-Ohh my God-!" Arthur moaned loudly, dragging his blunt nails across Alfred's shoulders. His head slipped back and hit against the wall, allowing Alfred to bite and suck at exposed skin.

"You like this, honey?" Alfred whispered against him, voice husky with sex and lust.

"Yes, fuck, I-" He couldn't speak, blabbering nonsense as his thighs tightened around his partner.

"Do you wanna cum?"

"Yes!"

Arthur had never wanted anything more in his life. He felt like his insides were burning, stars flashing behind his vision with every thrust. He was chasing a peak Alfred was pushing him to.

"What do we say?"

"Please, fuck- please, daddy-!"

Then he was cumming, jerking against Alfred's body as his cum covered both of their chests. With Arthur's body nearly limp from his orgasm, Alfred got in a few more quick and rough thrusts before he came as well, pulling Arthur as close as he could to fill him.

The two of them were left panting, gripping at each other's sweaty bodies and basking in the afterglow.

Alfred broke the peace.

"Let's go again."

[blue---oak]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

"Sometimes people just clicked. Like, out of everyone in the universe, you two were meant to be together. And you felt it when you first bumped into each other. Or when your eyes met.

And I knew that feeling."

FOR @mysthicrider, MY BEST FRIEND UWU

[alifeasvivid]

Beautiful and Battered, aka a USUK angst drabble (Rated T+)

Companion piece to this. Arthur as the pov character this time. Ostensibly a human AU, but it’s open for interpretation.

Well you guys know I couldn’t not let Arthur have his say, particularly since both of these tsundere idiots have the same exact problem: “I’d love you freely if I was sure I wouldn’t get hurt from it” XD

Warnings: angst, alcohol, very very mild implied sexual feels Word count: ~540

I’d give you all my love, if I was unbreakable.

Arthur Kirkland’s heart is an empty box. It was once a beautifully sculpted crystalline thing, but now it is an empty box full of shattered glass. He aches for it to be filled, but anyone who tries to touch it recoils with bloody hands. Anything he tries to fill it with scrapes against the jagged edges and causes him pain.

Despite everyone’s advice, he has discovered that the box can hold whiskey to suspend the glass shards long enough to have some small relief.

Then there is Alfred F. Jones, Arthur’s best friend, whom he is agonizingly in love with and who Arthur tries the hardest to keep from touching the broken pieces and hurting himself.

But Alfred is the sun; he is life-sustaining and often too much to look at directly. Alfred’s warmth fills the emptiness effortless and without any injury. His radiance illuminates the fragments and makes them sparkle and glisten like something beautiful.

The sun always sets, though, and Arthur wouldn’t survive it. He has tried so many times to clear out the glass and let Alfred build something new because he so clearly wants to; his blue eyes foolishly regard Arthur with affection and reverence and it’s terrifying to think of getting used to it.

Even so, it’s impossible not to bask in Alfred’s sunshine. They’ve been out drinking, or rather, Arthur has been drinking and Alfred has dutifully followed him. Arthur is dying to feel Alfred’s skin beneath his fingertips and Alfred’s heat invading him, driving out any thought of the empty box full of fractured glass. Arthur acts more drunk than he is as he drapes himself over Alfred, touching him as he is often only able to do—as he will often only allow himself to do when he’s inebriated.

This is safe, however. Alfred will allow this much, but will never take advantage if he believes Arthur to be drunk. The status quo remains more intact than anything else between them.

“Please, Alfred, I know,” a hiccup born of a sob, “I’m— I want you like mad, darling. I know I’m,” a shuddered sigh, “don’t do it on purpose, you know.” It’s too difficult to say everything all at once, there’s so much Arthur wants to say, but he chokes on it like shards of crystal.

“You’re drunk, Arthur.” Alfred mumbles sadly.

“’s the only time I’m… not bloody ter’fied of you.” The truest truth, but Arthur isn’t drunk currently.

“Yeah, I know.” Alfred hasn’t moved, but suddenly seems so distant, as if to prove Arthur crushingly right.

Arthur buries his face in Alfred’s neck. “You’d leave me. I’m… I’m a fucking mess. You’d leave me and then whot?”

Alfred tugs harshly on Arthur’s hair to pull him back. His eyes pierce blindingly though Arthur. “You’re wrong. I’d die for you.”

Arthur’s eyes widen. The shards suspend with no whiskey.

“I love you and it tears me up inside, but I love you and it doesn’t matter because you won’t remember tomorrow because you’re drunk. I’d never leave you, I’d die first.”

“Then why I can’t I have you?” Arthur begs, asking the question more of himself than anything.

“You won’t let yourself.” As it happens, Alfred is crushingly right.

likes = love. reblogs = life.

[blue---oak]

Secondhand Awkwardness and Staying Active (USUK)

(A/N): This one’s definitely rated T. Or like a PG-13. Arthur has some dirty thoughts, but it’s not explicit at all. He’s also really touch-starved. Also, I think I’m making Arthur a little younger than Alfred in this fic. Maybe Alfred’s in his twenties and Arthur’s eighteen or nineteen. Had to just write an awkward boy starstruck by his crush. It’s likely unreciprocated but Arthur can dream, right? 

I stared at Alfred, internally begging for someone to put me out of my misery. When my doctor had recommended physical therapy, I hadn’t been expecting someone like Alfred to be my physical therapist. Sure, I’d known that it would likely be someone fit who was around my age, but I was expecting them to be some annoying showoff of a muscle-man. Alfred- well, sure, some would say that he was just that- but he was also funny and sweet. Plus, he always tried to make exercises more fun for me. And maybe he was also dead sexy when he stretched and revealed some of his midriff, or when he was showing me how to do certain exercises. But that wasn’t the most important thing! When I thought of Alfred, my mind didn’t immediately go to his muscles or the way it felt when he touched my back, quite close to my arse, to help me maintain good form while I did my squats. It went to his personality! After all, it would’ve been quite ungentlemanly of me to think of his body instead of his heart. But they were both quite good. Quite good indeed.

“Hey Arthur!” Alfred greeted me as I walked through the door, gesturing for me to come into the larger portion of the building- the area made for exercise, as opposed to the small waiting section.

“Hello!” I called, closer to a shout.

Once I got close enough, he gave me a high five and set the timer on the exercise bike for me.

Ten minutes. Ten minutes. of pure agony. For the entire time I was there, I absolutely hated the exercise bike. It wasn’t hard per se, but it was quite annoying. The only thing that kept me sane on that stupid bike was my favorite music blasting through my earbuds. But luckily, the time always seemed to pass quickly on the damned thing. The main problem was that my legs always felt like jelly when I got off.

I wobbled over to one of the tables, which was where most of my exercises were and tripped, stumbling into someone’s arms. When I looked up to see that I was in Alfred’s arms, I felt my face heat up.

“Hey, if the bike’s making you unsteady, then next time, I’ll turn down the resistance.”

“I- uh- well, erm… thank you.” I was surprised that I somehow managed to stammer out some sort of coherent response. Normally, when I was around Alfred, I could barely get a word out. Other than greetings, of course. Those had become easy… without too much practice. But when he told me to do something? I usually only nodded, staying silent.

“No need to thank me. I just wanna do what’s best for your health, dude.” He patted me on the back and I was quite close to the human version of purring.

I just nodded in reply.

“And you have a new exercise today! I’m gonna get you started on that one now, but after that, just go on with your routine.”

I nodded again, ready to accept anything.

“So, it’s lumbar extensions and flexions, which are going to help your back. Take it easy and don’t hyperextend anything, Arthur.” Alfred said, getting onto one of the tables to demonstrate.

I had no idea what the first part of that meant, but I was hanging on his every word, just because it was him. His voice, similarly to most other things about him, was simply captivating.

“I’ll do good for you, Alfred,” I promised. And my head completely lost any thoughts that were in it. That was such a weird thing to say in reply to him. And it came out unreasonably sexual. I resisted the urge to slam my head on the table.

But Alfred gave me a thumbs-up, a smile, and a quick reply. “Great! Do your best. These ones are fairly simple. Just watch what I do.”

I got onto the table next to him, watching intently.

“Just arch your back, like so.” He demonstrated. “Then stretch it downwards.”

And that’s when the dirty thoughts started running through my head. I wondered if Alfred would watch me do the exercise. I hoped he would. I hoped he’d admire me, picturing my back arching under different circumstances.

Was that fucked up of me to think? Probably. Was it the worst thing I’d thought about him doing to me? Definitely not.

And I froze when I felt a hand on my back.

“Lower, Arthur. I know I said not to hyperextend anything, but you’re barely arching your back at all. And that’s pretty much the whole point of the exercise.” He laughed.

He pressed gently on my back and I didn’t know what to feel. My heart was rejoicing and it was so much contact. His hands were always so strong and I just couldn’t help my thoughts from bubbling out of my brain.

“Fuck me,” I mumbled subconsciously.

“What?!” Alfred asked, and I was certain that he heard me.

“Fuck you!” I shouted, running off to hide in the bathroom.