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    Summary

    "We said we wouldn't do this again," America moves in closer—an irrelevant, small amount. An inch, maybe.

     

    "Yes, we did." Russia agrees. She moves in a relevant amount; their chests bump.

     

    A sigh—Amelia isn't paying close enough attention to know if it came from her lips or Anya's. When had her violet eyes gotten the center of Jones' attention over those soft lips? Those lips, which are now pressed and moving against hers. "Russia," A breathy whisper against Braginskaya like a secret, or maybe a prayer.

     

    Anya smiles softly and America feels it more than sees it. Fuck. How she'd get here? She told herself she wouldn't be here—that she wouldn't give into temptation again.

     

    OR

    America, with Russia’s fingers in her cunt: But I wonder if she LIKE likes me?

    Series
    • Part 2 of Bet
    Language:
    English
    Words:
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    Chapters:
    1/1
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