America is pretty dumb but YANDERE America is openly stupid and deceivingly dark. He knows how to take advantage of any situation in front of him so you can be sure that once he sees how naïve and virginal you are, he's going to do his thing.
- it's a blissful experience showing off to you, the way your eyes go starry and your jaw slackens in awe. Guns scare you but in a controlled environment when he's blasting at a target, you can't help but jump in excitement.
- he will show you how to shoot, no really it's okay, he's got you! Don't worry about recoil, babe, America is strong enough to hold it steady.
- you don't think twice when he's rocking his body into you from behind, it's just his usual pistol he keeps in his pants.
- his muscles are so big, they make you feel safe. His chest is pressed into your back and his hands are firmly over your smaller ones. He's got the gun steady, all you have to do is aim and pull the trigger.
- once you do, your body lurches back into him, arse pushing hard into his cock but you don't notice, too enthralled by the lack of pain and immense fun of watching the bullets spray. "Mmf, oawh, yeah, right on target. Do it again, c'mon. Show me what you got."
- a lighthearted giggle leaves you, "okay!" and you do it again, jerking into him once more. Your body rocks as you move the gun, each thrust earning a wonderful sound from America while you make your own, pleasant cries of joy.
- "Soo good. Fuck, you're amazing. Yeah, yeah yeah you're killin' it (Y/n). Go until you run outta juice, use your hands, Sweetheart." Should he cum in his pants? He reserved the whole course for you, and damn you were rocking into him so good. "Yeah, yeah! Gods, i'm gonna cum," he whispers the last bit, muffled by your ear muffs and ammo as you moan out a delight at hitting the target.
- "Yes!!" You cry, losing ammunition quickly.
"Fuckk," he hisses, jutting his crotch into the divet of your arse as thick, hot spurts of cum coat the front of his pants. You both panting, coming down quickly from the adrenaline of your separate events. "Gotta use the bathroom," he gives you a friendly kiss behind the ear before he retreats.
- Once he's back, you comment about the change of his pants. He tells you his other ones were too hot and thick, and of course you believe him.
.
Work is a wonderful place. You always try to dress up nice, present yourself to each country. America loves whacking it in the spank bank. Sometimes you put on these tight, knee-length pencil skirts and ffffuuuuck. You look so lady-like and he just wants to tear that slit on the back and have you bounce on his cock.
- one time he left his laptop on, "SEXY SECRETARY SWALLOWS BOSS' CUM". You blushed, turning away only to see him standing by the door drinking a milkshake. "I-I saw nothing," you stutter, though quickly crumbling when he raises an eyebrow, "Okay I saw everything. B-But it's okay! I won't tell anyone, I mean everything needs some sort of stimulation, right? Ha ha... ha...."
- America walks over to you, placing his milkshake behind you on the desk and closing in, his arms either side of you and pinning you to the table. He stares directly into your eyes, "Do you have a stimulant, (Y/n)? Maybe a nice, lil vibrator you use at home, or an 8inch dildo? What kinda porn you into? We can trade kinks."
- poor you, thinking he was just trying to low down the situation. Your cheeks couldn't get any hotter, voice high and breath gone, "Ahh, I don't really, I mean I don't know much about anything really and... Uhm, I think England is down the hall?"
- you manage to slip under his arm, bolting away while he enjoys his milkshake and finishes his porn. Silly, you didn't even notice that the character looked like you.
.
Some nights he likes to find you and destress. Like world meetings, when you stay at the same motel. He rocks up to your room with a pillow and a blanket, "Help meeee."
- It escalates quickly, he has his hand in your underwear and fingers stretching you upen, your slick pussy gushy around America's digits. "Doesn't this feel good? Aren't you stress free?"
- "I- I don't know. I feel like my heart is beating harder," you answer, honestly.
- he tuts at your innocence, "Well, that's because you haven't had an orgasm. Do you even know what its like to have one? To have something in your pussy so nice you cum?"
- "'s embarrassing," you mutter, tears leaking down your cheeks.
- "ah, sweetheart, I'm really stressed too. I think we both need to have an orgasm. You'll help me, won't you? You always say you'd do anything for me if it makes me happy. I know this will make the both of us suuuper happy," he groans, rutting his cock into the small of your back.
- you can't say no, you want to help him be less stressed. You're helping America, your best friend, it's your buddy! USA! USA! Haha. Yeah, so you'll let him spread your legs over your head and fuck you into the mattress, right? You will let him pound his thick cock balls deep into your whet cunt. You will moan and scream when he tells you to because it helps him cum ropes of semen into your womb. Then you will let him clean you up with his tongue and suckle on your little clit, bringing orgasm after orgasm because you're so silly and naïve it takes more than one to understand how great he can always make you feel.
- you don't complain when he rests his head on your chest, feeding on your nipple and nuzzling your bosom for after-sex comfort. It's easier to just let America do what he wants.
