Oneshots, Short Stories, and Poems

🌍 - Insurance?! | M!Crazy Ex!Russia x M!America

You're in the wrong place if you want shipping lol, this is just Russia being a psychopath and destroying all of America's belongings :D

I swear I write nothing but crack these days

TW: Property damage, mentions of arson, implications of stalking

~~~

"Really? You were out drinking with your friends again? Damnit, Russia, at least tell me when you're going out so I-"

"I told you! I texted you." Russia snapped, lying on the bed and looking at America upside-down. "Check your phone."

America looked at his phone. Indeed, there had been a message from Russia about three hours prior. grabbing lunch w/ my friends, should be back around 2

"Could you have possibly talked to me last night?"  America asked. "My phone's on silent when I have to work, I told you that-"

"I texted you as soon as my friends told me about it, which was 10am today!" Russia retorted. "And since when did you even have work today?! It's Saturday, for fuck's sake!"

America pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was called in last-minute because a junior employee screwed up one of the spreadsheets! Damn..."

An awkward silence hung over the bedroom.

"You're always like this!" America suddenly exploded. "Can't tell me when you're leaving, too-"

"Now wait a goddamn second." Russia interrupted, sitting up from the bed. "Why must you always drag personal character into things whenever we fight?! Any disagreement, and you're all, 'oh, it's because you have a problem-' IT'S NOT ALWAYS BECAUSE I HAVE PROBLEMS!"

"I am trying to find the root of the issue! I'm just throwing out possibilities! You're the one who doesn't seem to want to solve them!"

Russia groaned. "Well, if it's gonna be like this, we might as well break up. I'm done."

America rolled his eyes. "Fine. Get your stuff and leave."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

America stormed out of the house. Taking a drive would help him cool down.

~~~

When America got home, the first thing he noticed was that his slippers were Superglued to the floor.

"...What the fuck."

Ugh, fine. He'll go barefoot. It's cold, but he doesn't have a choice. America took off his shoes and placed them on the shoe rack, trying to move another pair to put his boots down - wait, his shoes were glued to the rack as well?

Ummmm...

The rest of the house did not hold a pleasant surprise for him. Everything was glued to something. Everything. The plates, cups, and utensils were glued to their pantries, the wine bottle was glued to the dining table, the dishrag was glued to the countertop, America's fucking books had been glued closed and on top of each other- what was going on??

Well, screw whatever relaxation America had on his drive. He was pissed. He threw open his bedroom door. Russia was sitting on his bed, a suitcase by his side, wearing latex gloves, and applying a generous amount of Superglue to the screen of America's phone.

Russia glanced up, looking at America with innocent amber eyes. "What?"

"... Get out of my house."

"Gladly." Russia stood up and placed America's phone on his bedside table, wiggling it firmly into place to make sure the glue stayed. He grabbed his suitcase and walked out the door, not even sparing a glance to his former boyfriend.