My Big Fat Kirkland Wedding Ch. 3More Like This
America arrived to England's house and stood outside his front door, fingering the little velvet black box in his pocket nervously. This new development in his plan to propose to Arthur was not what he had in mind. He was supposed to arrive to his boyfriend's home without any interruptions and they would spend the day together by going to see a movie and taking Arthur to his favorite restaurant in restaurant in London. Finally, at the end of it all Alfred would take Arthur over to Buckingham Palace where the magic would happen and he would pop the question. Then they would probably go back home and have the greatest mind-blowing sex ever. It would end with his cute little (yes his) Iggy crying out his name, then America would wrap his arms around him and pull him close to his chest as they slept and that was the great thing he loved after they were done.
Of course, that all depended if England said yes.
That was the main problem of America's worries, but now it seemed to have a gotten
APH-RussiaxAmericaSaying it was hot that day was an understatement.More Like This
Saying it was so fucking hot that it felt like the sun had rented the apartment above him and cranked the thermostat as high as it could go was a little more accurate.
Every single air molecule was bloated with a hundred degrees too much heat, expanding and coalescing like a bag of gummy bears kicked underneath the backseat of an old car. So one giant amorphous glob is formed-that was what he felt on his skin. It went inside his pores, making him feel sticky from the inside out, and way too solid.
He blew out a gust of air in irritation. Heroes shouldn't have to sweat. It didn't look or feel awesome to have it creeping like insects or Francis's fingers probing in places he didn't even know he had glands
Water didn't help, either. He waited for the semi-cool water to fill the dish of his hands, stooping over the sink once it did in order to splash it onto his face. It turned tepid by the time it dribbled down his
Good morning, darlingRussia groaned softly as he felt the first rays of American mornings on his face, through the half-open curtains. He shifted and tried to tighten his grip on the bundle that should still be huddled against his chest, before opening his eyes. He blinked at his empty, obviously America-less arms, before sleepily sitting up and rubbing his eyes, and slipping out of bed. He looked up when he heard a curse in the bathroom, and walked towards it, opening the door. He stared.More Like This
"America, what are you doing?" He asked. America looked up at him.
"I've lost Texas " He mourned.
Germany slammed his fist on the alarm, checking the Italian curled against his chest, and sighed when he didn't stir. Carefully he started to slide out of his grip, freezing when Italy moaned. Looking around, he grabbed a pillow and managed to skilfully slide the pillow into place as he made his escape. Sliding out of bed, he padded softly across the room toward