Shadow: Here's the last chapter, you guys! It's mostly for laughs uwu Thank you all so much for sticking with us through this entire thing!
England was trying hard to focus on his book as he sat rigidly on the couch. He winced every time he heard America wretch and gag, the pained sound soon followed by the splash of vomit hitting the water in the toilet. England was about ready to puke himself.
America was miserably kneeling before the toilet, groaning pitifully, as if trying to gain England's attention. Every couple minutes he would just start retching again. He shook violently and felt absolutely sick.
England steeled himself and got up, plugging his nose as he went over by the door. He couldn't stand to be in the same room as America vomited. "Erm, America?" He called through the door, "There anything I can do for you?"
America groaned and wiped his mouth with some toilet paper and flushed, though he was far from done. "I want something...food." He really shouldn't eat, but now he was so hungry. "And water. And ice cream. And pickles."
"Uh...are you sure you want to eat al that? You just vomited for the past half hour practically."
"I want to eat everything, I'd eat the toilet if it weren't so gross," America groaned, pulling his head up, only to lurch forward and start puking again. It was mostly water now, nothing solid left.
"Ugh...alright. I'll have to run to the store." England was seriously worried about his boyfriend, his brow furrowing as he listened to America start dry heaving. "I'll leave some saltines and water on the coffee table, alright? If you're feeling dizzy, I've got some cold compresses in the pantry. I'll be back soon, okay?"
"Y-yeah..." America groaned and shuddered on the toilet. He got up and leaned against the sink, washing his face and then his mouth. He felt gross, maybe a shower... His stomach flipped and he had to run to the toilet again. ...Maybe not.
England hurried as fast as he could to get everything that America had asked for. Al had even called him on his cell and demanded additional items. England's concern mounted, but he had to remain calm. WHen he came through the door, bags in hand, he saw America lounging on the couch with a bowl resting on his stomach, a cold compress on his forehead.
America had been chowing down on saltines, which seemed to completely sate his need for pickles, which he realized he didn't even like anyway, and chugging water by the gallons. "Oh, hey you're back."
"Yeah. Do you want anything now? Or do you want me to put it away for later?" It was rare that England got this frazzled, and it was even rarer that America got sick. What could possibly be wrong?
"Ice cream, gimme gimme," America whined, pushing the bowl away and holding his arms out. "I want it out of the tub!"
"Alright, lemme grab you a spoon." He pulled the tub of ice cream out of the bag and placed in the eagerly grabbing hands.
America didn't wait and tore into the ice cream, sticking his face in the tub and starting to lick it up. He suddenly yanked back and spit it out. "Eww, gross, what the hell flavor is this?"
"...Moose tracks? That's the flavor you asked for over the phone. Don't lick all over it and then decide you don't want it." The Brit ripped it out of America's unappreciative hands. "Some of us still might like to enjoy this, you know?"
America practically started to absolutely bawl. "W-why would you get me that, why would you-" he cried and covered his face, shaking with sobs and whimpered, seeming like it was the end of the world for him.
"Bu-Bu-Bu-But I just got what you asked for! Why are you crying all of a sudden...?" England's eyebrows turned upwards in distress. He tried to calm America down, but he simply wasn't having it. England had never been so confused by the man in his life.
"J-just, l-leave me alone, okay!" America shouted through his tears, getting up and running up the stairs to the bedroom, slamming and locking it behind him.
England stared up at the stairs, completely baffled by what the hell had just happened. He was stunned and confused, very confused. After a moment, he ran upstairs after America. "America, are you alright? What's going on? What's the matter?"
"I-I don't know," America blubbed against his pillow as he sobbed. He really didn't. "C-can you just...l-leave me a lone for a wh-while, I need to b-be alone, o-ok-kay?"
"Uh, um, okay. I'll be downstairs in the living room if you need me." England turned and started to walk away. He turned back and called through the door, "I'll check on you in an hour."
Nodding, America just snuggled up against his pillow. He conked out for a bit, then got up and strated puking. When he was done with that he suddenly ran downstairs. "I'll be right back don't wait for me see ya later," he shouted out all in one breath as he left the house and took the car, driving out of the driveway.
"Woah, what! America! Ameri-" The door was slammed in his face, and for the second time that afternoon, England was left standing with nothing to say. He blinked a moment before irritation got the better of him. "What the HELL is going on!"
America came back soon enough with a box in hand, rushing upstairs and into the bathroom, not even saying hello to England as he closed the door and soon enough the trickle of the bathroom being used could be heard.
England tried to ask America what was going on, but he got no response. He juggled the handle to the bathroom, but it was locked. "America! What's going on? Tell me, dammit, I'm worried over here!"
About six minutes later, America came out, trembling slightly and pail. He cleared his throat and turned away slightly. "I kn-know what's wrong."
"What?" England gently gripped America's upper arms, looking into his eyes. HIs voice was soft as he tried to coax out an explanation, "What's the matter?"
Gulping, America reached back and took a little white stick and held it out to England. "here."
England took the end of the stick gingerly in his fingers, not wanting to touch the other urine soaked end. HE stared at it, eyes going wide and brow furrowing. He looked up at America, mouth agape. "Is this..."
America nodded and turned around, gulping. "You d-don't hate me...do you?" He didn't even know this was possible.
"Don't be stupid." England into his arms and held him tight. "I could never hate you over something like this."
"R-really?" America sniffled and wiped at his eyes. "I feel weird... I think it's been like this for a few weeks."
"You think so?" England brought a hand up to the back of his head. "Well, that explains why you've been acting so weird...weirder than usual."
America rubbed his stomach. "This is freaky. And stupid. I'm kinda scared." That seemed to set off a switch and he dropped to his knees, starting to cry.
England crouched down and pulled America close. "It'll be okay, America. Everything will be okay. If anyone can handle the weird and inexplicable it's you." He kissed America's forehead, wiping away the tears.
"R-really? You mean it?" America blubbered, rubbing at his eyes. He was overcome with a sudden wave of horniness and looped his arms around the brit, kissing him roughly and firmly.
"Ngh!" England was, to put it simply, caught off guard by the sudden kiss, knocking him back. "A-Amerimph!" He figured he'd be better off going along with it, before America pulled away and ran off again. He wrapped his arms around his love, holding him close.
Kissing firmly, America got up and pulled them towards the bed, moaning and grinding against the brit. "I want you so bad, right now," he mumbled incoherently, feeling dizzy with lust and need.
"Damn, I can tell." Arthur climbed over Alfred's after they flopped back on the bed, kissing him fervently as his hands began to wander over the American's body.
America laid motionless, wiggling and fidgeting despite. He kissed back hard, yanking England's clothes off. "Hurry, I want it now."
"Yeah, I can tell." England mumbled as he shrugged off his clothes, lips barely leaving America's as he got them undressed.
America spread his legs for the brit and moane,d biting his lip. "C-come on, hurry, before I change my mind!"
"Don't you dare change your mind on me now." England tugged down his Zipper.
Moaning, America nodded and rolled his hips up. "Then hurry up! I want it rough and sloppy, hng, as hard as you can, Artie!"
"Yeah, yeah." England didn't hold back as he ripped America's pants down. He threw them behind him and off the bed, pushing America's legs back before thrusting forward.
America gasped, tossing his head back and moaning. It felt so good to be so filled and stretched even without lube. "Hng, England, ahn, y-yes! F-feels so good!"
England pulled out until his head was just barely inside before slamming in again, grunting with the force of his own thrusts.
"Ohhn~!" America cried, arching his back and hooking his legs over England's hips and pulling him in deeper, trying to keep him from pulling out. It just felt too good.
"Feel good? Ya like that?" England leaned forward and bit down on America's collarbone, leaving a dark red mark that would undoubtedly bruise. "This hard enough for you?"
"Y-yes, yes, I love it!" America cried, arms liding over England's neck. "I want m-more, so much more!"
"Yeah, take it all." England grunted, kissing and biting America's pale skin, covering it with marks. America was his, and these proved it.
America came with a cry and went limp, eyes rolling back in his head. He was absolutely spent, and he felt a bit tingly in the stomach area. And also freaked out.
"Wow, that was fast." England chuckled as he came to a halt. He noticed something a bit off about America. "Are you okay?"
America groaned and sat up on his elbows, looking dizzy. He then seemed to get a handle on everything and kicked England across the room. "What the hell do you think you're doing, do you want me to have a whole litter!"
England had to focus when his vision started going black. He'd hit his head quite hard on the way down. "God dammit, you dumbass, once you're pregnant it's not like you can keep adding on!"
"Shut up, this is your fault!"
"How the hell was I supposed to know you'd get pregnant! Don't you dare even try to blame this on me!"
"You stuck your dick in me!"
England put his hands over his face and screamed into them at the moment. He had to remember that America was simply hormonal. He'd have to get used to this.
HORY SHEET WE ARE DOOOOOONE~! Took a while, but we did all the kinks we wanted to do. I know there are some that aren't here, but, well...yeah.
Out of general curiosity, which kink do you think America got pregnant in? *waggles eyebrows*