starring. . . gender neutral reader and america, canada, china, & russia.
warning for nsfw, stalking (watching you from outside your house for america & canada, watching you through cameras in your home for china, watching you from your closet for russia), mentions of dumping a body (alfred), fantasies of rough sex, fantasies of freaky stuff in general, some degradation (canada), & masturbation.
requested by anon. masterlist ; here.
📌 . . . author notes: this takes place after the most recently posted stalkertalia!canada fic. reader’s genitalia is not mentioned, i tried to keep it vague for the sake of gender neutrality. they’re all quite freaky here.
alfred f. jones!
— god, did he get lucky! he’d had a shitty week after a fight with his brother. getting rid of bodies wasn’t something he enjoyed doing and matthew’s lucky alfred cares so much about family and brotherhood or else he wouldn’t have helped at all. his cheeks flush some when he sees your form through the window, your pants and underwear pulled down as you sit on your bed. it feels almost like a thank you from christ for being patient with his brother and dumping that guy in the lake. a blessing, that’s what it is, seeing you roll your head back some. a complete blessing.
— aren’t you naughty, spreading your legs like that, just barely hiding what’s between your thighs… he can’t tell if you’re using a toy or your hand, but it’s arousing either way. he’s less focused on what you’re doing and more focused on the faces you make, the way he can almost hear your moans from down in the bushes.
— he likes that you’re fast with whatever you’re doing. there’s some build up, but you seem to enjoy a quicker past. he’d do you fast, too, if you’d fucking let him. you’ve yet to let him in your house, something that drives him crazy. just another thing his brother’s got that he doesn’t: a partner who lets him in. emotionally, and also, y’know, in your house. he could be fucking you so good right now, pounding into you while you bury your face in your pillows.. maybe you even cry a little. or maybe you like to ride on top, facing him, and he can squeeze that ass of yours and… fuck, he’s so hard it hurts.
— it’s not his first time jerking off in your bushes. far from it, actually, not that you’d ever notice the cum stains left in the dirt of your backyard. they’re dried and unnoticeable by the time you ever go out, and who pays that much attention to bushes anyways? he’s tempted to call you, to masturbate together on the phone… but you wouldn’t go for that, not yet. so he’ll settle for this instead.
— he’s damn near choking his dick by the time your head rolls back again, your cries becoming louder. he squeezes, he pumps, he fucks his fist so hard that he can’t help but groan softly. ultimately, he manages to sync his fervent, desperate jerking with your own moans. alfred’s eyes close as he imagines it’s you he’s fucking instead of his own hand.
— you cum first, something he almost misses through his own haze, finishing seconds after you. he pants as quietly as he can, watching you as you savor your orgasm. oh, if only he could stay… but crouching by your bushes with a messy cock doesn’t sound too appealing, to be frank. don’t worry, he’ll get his fair share of you when he calls once he’s home and teases you about your libido.
matthew williams!
— after that incident with the other guy and the lake, he’s suddenly not allowed in your house. fair enough, he supposes. sometimes a couple needs space from each other and he can’t claim to be the happiest with you, either, at the moment. he’s content to wait and stalk until you take him back like you always do. speaking of stalking…
— it’s not hard to get close to your window without you knowing, especially when you’re downstairs. you’re set up on the couch, turning on the tv and watching a movie he thought was normal. williams quickly realizes when he’s staring at a screen full of nudity that you’re not watching a movie, you’re watching a porno. go figure, considering how fucking filthy you are. he finds his frows furrowing as he sees you beginning to touch yourself. funny, he thinks as you moan. you’re too distraught to see him, but not too distraught to grunt his name while you masturbate.
— he opts not to make his presence known, choosing to take pictures as you masturbate. he didn’t bring his camera, so his phone will have to do. matthew takes lots of photos, especially as you climax — oh? he chuckles to himself, his pants tenting as he watches you whimper. you take a moment to breathe before preparing for a second round with yourself, pulling out a dildo.
— he watches as you stretch yourself out on the toy, sliding it in and out of your hole. you probably wish it was him. or maybe you’re still thinking of that other guy. he huffs softly, blood running hot just at the thought. he’ll have to fuck those thoughts out of you if that’s the case. he palms himself at thought of it, fucking you so hard and deep that you babble and cry. making sure he’s all you think about as you cum for the umpteenth time on his cock. “mm…” it’s just his dick talking and he knows it, but god is it a tempting fantasy.
— as mad as he may be with you, he can’t help but undo his pants buckle and jerk off as you masturbate before him. naturally, he syncs his pumping with your own; he’s a romantic at heart, after all. you’re disgusting but so is he. you deserve each other fully, he thinks, not just the good but the bad of each other, too.
— with that thought in mind, he cums alongside you. as much as you try not to, you groan out his name as you cum. outside and in a much quieter manner, he groans yours in return, thumb squeezing the tip of his dick as he squirts ropes along the ground. “fuck,” he grunts, quickly trying to put himself back together. once he’s home, he finds himself looking at one of the many photos he has of you and smiling. you’re a little closer to his forgiveness and all you had to do was cum.
yao wang!
— he wasn’t aware that you were going to masturbate at first. he thought maybe you were changing for a nap. as you settle on the bed and begin touching yourself, however, he quickly realizes the truth. it doesn’t make him blush, wang only smiles at your energy. you’re rather passionate about playing with yourself, which he finds endearing. he can only imagine how you’d be during sex with another…
— yao watches through the two cameras he had set up in your bedroom. he has countless cameras in your house, some more amateur and others more professional. he paid off one of your friends to put in the amateur ones, but those aren’t the ones in your bedroom. no, your bedroom is deserving only of the best (much like you are, in wang’s eyes), so both cameras are high resolution beauties. it’s perfect for a time like this.
— he admires how enthusiastic you get as you continue on. you don’t hold back on yourself, that’s for sure. it’s enrapturing, and, aside from sexually, it’s artistically beautiful. the way your cheeks flush as you get worked up, the way your moans and groans and cries grow louder and louder until you close your eyes and just whimper through it. self inflicted overstimulation — yao finds it interesting, your sexual choices. he notes them for later down the line.
— he’s fully content to just watch. though your little show is definitely arousing, he’s actually in his office at the moment. it’d be too risky to start masturbating with secretaries walking in and out of his office, dropping papers off and picking other papers up. really, it’s risky enough watching you on one of his monitors with his airpods in. he’s turned the screen towards himself, but if anyone walks behind his desk, wang might be a little screwed.
— eventually, as you grow closer to your climax (he can tell by how loud you’re being), he begins to record. just because he’s older doesn’t mean his libido is lacking! he needs this footage for future masturbation sessions. you whine, whimper, and groan out as you cum, all sounds that flow through his airpods and seem to go straight to his dick.
— he’s a man of self control, but not a man without needs. as you wrap up your masturbation session, yao saves the recording and turns off his monitor, intent on starting his. “i’m taking an early lunch,” he mutters as an excuse, pushing out of the office.
ivan braginsky!
— he thinks it’s cute when you masturbate! there’s nothing quite like watching you make yourself squirm and whine. it’s nice, sitting back as you do all the hard work of working yourself up. your act of bravado falls as you let a string of unintelligible words and filthy noises slip from your sweet lips. still, he’d like to break that cocky attitude for himself, soon, like breaking in pointe shoes — cracking, bending, beating, stomping, carving even — anything to make the shoe more comfortable. or in this case, to make you more suitable to him.
— but that comes later. for now he’s content to just watch you rut against a toy from the darkness of your closet. if only he could burst out right now and make you grind against his polished shoe.. you’d like that, wouldn’t you? whatever makes you happy. he wouldn’t mind you doing that in the mornings, then having to clean his soiled shoe before you both head out to work. ah, domesticity.
— the closet is a new spot for ivan, but he’s beginning to enjoy it a lot. it’s not the most spacious place with all your clothes in it along with a few other things, but you rarely check your closet after a certain time at night. not to mention that it’s full of the smell of you. not perfume, but you, your scent. if you two were animals, he’d sniff you from head to toe just to get drunk off the smell of your musk. well, he’d do that as a human, too, actually.
— braginsky watches with intrigue as you line yourself up along a rather generously sized dildo, sliding down to the base. the dildo’s just about as big as he is… and you take it perfectly, albeit with a fair amount of whimpering. tears begin to well in your eyes and he bites his lip, feeling himself grow hard. he’d kiss away those tears if he could… tell you it’s okay, tell you not to move. let you cockwarm him until you’re ready and then —
— just as he thinks it, you lift yourself up some, gripping the sheets of the bed around you as you sink back down on it. you do this a few more times, slowly, carefully, before picking up speed. just how he would’ve done… he was built for you, surely. and you were built for him. it was so clear now, even as his mind grew hazy from arousal hearing you moan. the squelching sounds of you sliding up and down that dildo only spur him on and it isn’t long before he’s palming himself in the closet.
— you’re loud when you cum. he likes that. unfortunately, he hasn’t yet reached his finish line. don’t worry, he’ll get there once you’re asleep. your head will rest so nicely against the pillow as he kneels beside your bed, jerking off before you as if he were praying to a silent statue of a saint.
