[Hetalia Fic]


Title: Nuthin but a G Thang
Rating: X for xxxx xxxxxxx xxx xxxx xx xxxxxx.
Genre: lol it’s just porn.
Summary: When Matthew invited him to this party, he never thought that there would be the possibility of the other’s twin brother grinding against him. Or that he’d be made up in a pink dress while doing so.
Characters/Pairings: Russia/America, maybe a one-sided England/America idk… Um, there’s S. Korea, Japan, Poland, Lithuania, Hong Kong, Canada… yeah, that’s it.
Warnings/Notes: HOKAY. So a year ago last May, a friend and I were talking and she wanted me to write a ho!fred fic for her birthday and that’s what I did, that’s what this is. BUT! The conversation we were having, what we were saying before she brought up that request, had me decide that what we were talking about would be parodied in the fic. So there’s a lot of inside jokes that don’t seem like inside jokes and dramu and settings and certain things that are said that seem disconnected and so much OCCness that are also because of inside reasons. ANYWAY, ignore all that and enjoy the porn and you’ll love it just fine. :)


Keep reading

found iiiiiit

Ivan keeps his face stony and stoically silent. 

He doesn’t want them to see his weakness, even for this. 

The casket is closed, because for all of the corpses and death that the man has seen, he could just not bear this. Ivan did not–he did not need to see Alfred’s face again, still and pale in death and unmoved by the cries of pain tearing from his lover’s chest. It would break him. 

Some of Alfred’s girls are there–Bella, Eliza, and others that Ivan doesn’t recognize. His mentor Francis is in the second row, with a crying Lilly embedded at his side. 

Alfred’s mother is there, her glasses already smudged with tears, her hair frazzled under a veil of black. Alfred’s brother, Matthew is beside her, his daughter–Alfred’s niece–quiet and somber at his side, despite her young age. 

Alfred’s father is conspicuously absent. Ivan had heard from Matthew that their mother had begged him to come. Ivan had felt a swell of fury rise up in his throat at the notion that the man could not accept his son, even in death. 

Ivan had felt anger, but now Ivan feels nothing but something deep, too deep dragging his body down. 

Ivan is wearing white. He is wearing it because he promised Alfred, in a half-formed daze brought on by the aftermath of sex one night back when Alfred had gotten strangely poignant, his eyes carrying a sad and faraway look.

He is wearing the suit he wore when he took Alfred as a husband. He remembers how the man had looked in the dress and he can’t breath. 

Ivan’s heart–no, he no longer had a heart, because he had read his oaths to Alfred and he had said that he would give his heart, his soul, his everything to him, and in return Ivan would love and keep him and protect him–

Ivan’s heat is still, clenched tight in his chest, fingers worked into the fabric of his slacks, jaw set. 

They go up, one by one. Francis insists they celebrate Alfred’s life, all the light and love he brought to everyone. His mother cries at the altar, Matthew taking her glasses and leading her back to a seat in the pews, his little daughter clinging into his pantleg after bidding a goodbye to “Uncle” Alfred. 

help I can no longer write anything that's not in the second person narrative apparently

Alfred isn’t something you can just throw away. Alfred isn’t garbage. Alfred may be a diamond in the rough but when stripped of the grime and the waste of the boulevard he absolutely shines

Alfred’s attire has never really bothered you, apart from the beginning when you were first becoming acclimated to being seen with a man in a dress (though anyone who had a problem with your lover often got acquainted with the blunt end of your pipe firsthand). You learn about Alfred’s reasons behind the clothing, and you respect them, you understand because you want Alfred to be comfortable in his own skin, and whatever means he uses to achieve this has your full support. And you will never complain because Alfred always looks positively radiant, even when he’s not wearing the dresses–even when his makeup is smeared and it’s the morning after and he’s clad in only your overlarge shirt he looks ravishing.

Alfred never denies you, and thus you never deny him–you lavish him with everything, everything he desires. You buy him jewelry and furs and dresses and shoes and fine wines, you take him out to dinner weekly and spoil him completely rotten. 

And yet it never seems enough, never seems to equate the pure love that Alfred has for you, unbridled by any material proof, just laid out and bare and welcoming you in with golden arms and a radiant smile. 

You know that Alfred is tough as nails, that Alfred isn’t afraid to defend himself if he needs to, but Alfred is also sweet, and tender, and loving, and generous. Alfred is never a selfish lover, and Alfred, despite his love of good food and finery, always seeks to give back to you. Though you don’t want him to feel like he is obligated towards you to pay back for your kindness because you are glad to do it, glad to treat Alfred like a king, like he deserves. 

  • NigelMaj: Ivan paced. He was kept informed, and he got incredibly irate. There was a high chance of infection because the water had broken- he was aware. Alfred wasn't feeling any pain though, was just waiting out the surgery and contractions. Ivan was feeling no less worried after this news.
  • Hannaleigh: Alfred kept asking for Ivan, even as the drugs for the pain started to make him drowsy. He wasn't feeling pain, but he was still scared, and he wanted Ivan by his side. He was barely concious when the surgical tent was pulled over his stomach, obscuring his view.
  • NigelMaj: Ivan was certain he couldn't be in there, and more certain he'd get in the way. Eventually, though, he couldn't stand waiting. He slipped in and stayed by Alfred, on one side of the surgical tent, holding his hand.
  • "Alfred? Can you hear me?"
  • Hannaleigh: Alfred mumbled, turning his head and opening his eyes. Once Ivan swam into view, he sighed, squeezing the man's hand as best as he could.
  • "Hey babe....what's....what's going on...."
  • NigelMaj: "They are getting...Getting our daughter out, Fredka." He said shakily. It was terrifying to see Alfred like this, terrifying to see him so woozy and sick.
  • "Are you feeling okay?"
  • Hannaleigh: Even though he was no longer hurting, he still felt...he felt not right. His head was fuzzy and he was sweating and his heart was beating too fast...
  • " 'M okay, I'm just feeling weird...I feel hot..." He wanted to fall asleep, but he couldn't quite do it...and he wanted to see his baby...
  • NigelMaj: "It is only a little longer, I promise." Ivan said, kissing Alfred's hand. He stayed there for the next half hour, until the infant's piercing cries sounded out in the room.
  • It was a big, beautiful girl, chubby and pale and screaming. A big husky winter baby.

I can’t just take one picture because angles

Anyway, my tumblr cosplay prom for my lovely date Stars, who went as Mafiva. :))) I really wish I could have found a better dress, but I was strapped for time and cash, I hope that is okey! ;u;

Also I had on pantyhose and black heels but…you can’t see them. D: