Oh shit, what did I just write?! [1/2]
anonymous
June 27 2010, 01:48:43 UTC
Ummm, it seems to be a Russia/Prussia fill. I can't believe I wrote that. Never have I been so happy to be anon. Never.
It seems that little Kaliningrad is angry at him, again. Russia doesn’t really know what to do about it. He brings the albino province hearty meals every day. He talks to him, tells him about his day and how the other nations are doing. The room he has given Kaliningrad is much nicer than he deserves, even, with one large window and a bed with sheets and even its own little bathroom.
Most of the time, Kaliningrad ignores him, and he is used to this. The silver-haired man would turn away as the door opened and pretend to be asleep, but Russia could still hear him scoff and mumble, so he knew the other man was aware of him, at least.
This is different. He is lying on his back, today, like yesterday, like the day before. He stares at the ceiling listlessly, blinking so infrequently that Russia often misses it. He doesn’t even twitch as the tall nation walks into the room. He doesn’t roll his eyes at Russia’s stories, or throw the food trays at him in unexpected fits of rage, as he sometimes does. When Russia mentions Germany, that adorable stormy look does not even cross the other man’s face, as it unfailingly had in the past. He doesn’t even touch his food.
Russia doesn’t know whether to be impressed or irritated. Going three days without food simply to make his own sulking more obvious is quite a show of determination, even for rebellious little Kaliningrad. But the albino’s eyes are sinking deeper into his cheeks now, and Russia has always hated wasting food.
“Kaliningrad, please stop sulking,” he says quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. In the center of the room, a plate of food lies cold and untouched. The wastefulness irritates him. Kaliningrad does not reply. He continues to stare at the ceiling, red eyes not blinking often enough, refusing to acknowledge his benefactor.
“I do not like being ignored, Kaliningrad,” Russia says, his irritation starting to show in his voice. Since when has the little province been so good at this? “If you continue wasting food like this, I will stop bringing it to you.”
Kaliningrad does not reply.
Russia sighs angrily and goes back to the main part of the house, leaving the cold food on the floor. When Kaliningrad feels like eating, he can have that. He’ll get warm food again when he starts behaving.
When a week has passed since Kaliningrad stopped eating, Russia decides he will not accept this any longer. If the albino province will not acknowledge him, he will force him.
In the past, when Russia requested certain intimacies with his new province, he always struggled. Russia got what he wanted in the end, of course. He was so good to the pale man; surely he should get something in return. But Kaliningrad always struggled and squirmed and tried to attack him, and really, that was half the reason he kept the albino for so long. He didn’t mind a challenge.
So today, when he slipped into Kaliningrad’s room, it was with a sense of excitement.
“Hello, Kaliningrad,” he says, his voice slightly giddy. The albino province still has not touched his food, and it is starting to get moldy. Russia considers giving him something new, but decides against it. He got himself into this mess, and he will have to deal with the consequences.
He sits on the edge of the bed. Kaliningrad’s hand shifts towards him slightly, and Russia smiles. His little province missed him. He puts on such an uncaring front, but he does care. Of course he cares; Russia is so good to him.
He leans down and strokes the albino’s face gently. Kaliningrad continues to stare at the ceiling stubbornly. His red eyes seem to be the only things in the room with any colour. It’s beautiful, Russia thinks. He’s like a doll.
Re: Oh shit, what did I just write?! [2/2]
anonymous
June 27 2010, 01:50:15 UTC
His fingers trail down a pale neck, down well-shaped pecs, down the flat stomach. Kaliningrad does nothing. Perhaps he has finally decided to accept Russia’s attentions. He put up a fight for so long that Russia had nearly given up on the idea, but it seems to be the case. He might miss their little tussles, but perhaps Kaliningrad will indulge him in that later.
For now, having the little province be so compliant is enticing. He is colder than usual. His body is normally almost burning compared to Russia’s cool body. But today they are nearly the same. Surely this is a sign that Kaliningrad has accepted that he is one with Russia, now. Russia smiles gently.
He kneels between the pale man’s legs and presses his lips to cool skin. Kaliningrad trembles slightly, but suppresses the movement. Russia chuckles. Even now, he’s still so stubborn. Well, he’ll break that silence soon. How he looks forwards to hearing the albino scream for him.
As his kisses trail lower, he notices that little Kaliningrad (well, not so little, perhaps, but not as large as Russia) is still limp, unexcited. He must be nervous. Well, that’s of little concern.
When he pushes a first finger in, there is almost no resistance, despite how he used only spit for lube. He blinks a few times in surprise. Perhaps he is nervous, but he has remarkably good control over his reflexes. That is admirable indeed.
He prepares Kaliningrad quickly, marveling at the other man’s complete determination to stay still. He has always been stubborn, but never has he been so successful. Well, he’ll have to react, soon.
Russia pushes in smoothly, watching Kaliningrad’s face as he does. To his great disappointment, the albino only turns his head to the side, looking away from Russia once again. He doesn’t even whimper.
Even on the inside, Kaliningrad is quite cool, today. That’s mildly upsetting. It’s not as fun if it’s not warm. And as he thrusts in and out, Kaliningrad is still staying infuriatingly silent. He moves faster, rougher, trying to get a reaction from the man lying prone beneath him. Nothing.
He reaches down to wrap his hand around the other’s neck as his hips pump, hoping that the lack of air will make the other panic and react, dammit, anything, but stop ignoring him!
In the opposite of what he thought would happen, Kaliningrad starts meeting his thrusts, not very much, so slightly it can hardly be noticed, but he does. Russia smiles. He likes this, then?
The tightness, if not warmth, is starting to get to him, now. He feels his lower stomach tighten. A few more thrusts and he comes, deep inside the other man. Kaliningrad groans in unison with Russia, the only noise he’s made in the past week.
Russia stands and zips his pants. Kaliningrad stays where he is, his legs akimbo, his head turned. His eyes are still open. He’s staring at Russia, and it makes the tall nation uncomfortable in a way he can’t quite place. He shivers and leaves, hoping that the small province will return to his normal self soon.
I'm just going to go now. Shit, why did I even--?!
Re: Oh shit, what did I just write?! [2/2]
anonymous
June 27 2010, 21:20:51 UTC
Though I don't like necro.. im so proud of you anon XD i feel for you.. but its usually the weird shit that is the funnest to write! or at least.. it makes u go.. wooooowwww... ive hit a new low. hoping that for you.. its no the latter! :D
I would hope not. It really was the latter. And I've written some creepy stuff before: non-con, tentacles, cultverse, stockholm syndrome... This was the one that made me feel bad. *siiiigh* I got over it pretty fast, though. xD
It seems that little Kaliningrad is angry at him, again. Russia doesn’t really know what to do about it. He brings the albino province hearty meals every day. He talks to him, tells him about his day and how the other nations are doing. The room he has given Kaliningrad is much nicer than he deserves, even, with one large window and a bed with sheets and even its own little bathroom.
Most of the time, Kaliningrad ignores him, and he is used to this. The silver-haired man would turn away as the door opened and pretend to be asleep, but Russia could still hear him scoff and mumble, so he knew the other man was aware of him, at least.
This is different. He is lying on his back, today, like yesterday, like the day before. He stares at the ceiling listlessly, blinking so infrequently that Russia often misses it. He doesn’t even twitch as the tall nation walks into the room. He doesn’t roll his eyes at Russia’s stories, or throw the food trays at him in unexpected fits of rage, as he sometimes does. When Russia mentions Germany, that adorable stormy look does not even cross the other man’s face, as it unfailingly had in the past. He doesn’t even touch his food.
Russia doesn’t know whether to be impressed or irritated. Going three days without food simply to make his own sulking more obvious is quite a show of determination, even for rebellious little Kaliningrad. But the albino’s eyes are sinking deeper into his cheeks now, and Russia has always hated wasting food.
“Kaliningrad, please stop sulking,” he says quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. In the center of the room, a plate of food lies cold and untouched. The wastefulness irritates him. Kaliningrad does not reply. He continues to stare at the ceiling, red eyes not blinking often enough, refusing to acknowledge his benefactor.
“I do not like being ignored, Kaliningrad,” Russia says, his irritation starting to show in his voice. Since when has the little province been so good at this? “If you continue wasting food like this, I will stop bringing it to you.”
Kaliningrad does not reply.
Russia sighs angrily and goes back to the main part of the house, leaving the cold food on the floor. When Kaliningrad feels like eating, he can have that. He’ll get warm food again when he starts behaving.
When a week has passed since Kaliningrad stopped eating, Russia decides he will not accept this any longer. If the albino province will not acknowledge him, he will force him.
In the past, when Russia requested certain intimacies with his new province, he always struggled. Russia got what he wanted in the end, of course. He was so good to the pale man; surely he should get something in return. But Kaliningrad always struggled and squirmed and tried to attack him, and really, that was half the reason he kept the albino for so long. He didn’t mind a challenge.
So today, when he slipped into Kaliningrad’s room, it was with a sense of excitement.
“Hello, Kaliningrad,” he says, his voice slightly giddy. The albino province still has not touched his food, and it is starting to get moldy. Russia considers giving him something new, but decides against it. He got himself into this mess, and he will have to deal with the consequences.
He sits on the edge of the bed. Kaliningrad’s hand shifts towards him slightly, and Russia smiles. His little province missed him. He puts on such an uncaring front, but he does care. Of course he cares; Russia is so good to him.
He leans down and strokes the albino’s face gently. Kaliningrad continues to stare at the ceiling stubbornly. His red eyes seem to be the only things in the room with any colour. It’s beautiful, Russia thinks. He’s like a doll.
Reply
For now, having the little province be so compliant is enticing. He is colder than usual. His body is normally almost burning compared to Russia’s cool body. But today they are nearly the same. Surely this is a sign that Kaliningrad has accepted that he is one with Russia, now. Russia smiles gently.
He kneels between the pale man’s legs and presses his lips to cool skin. Kaliningrad trembles slightly, but suppresses the movement. Russia chuckles. Even now, he’s still so stubborn. Well, he’ll break that silence soon. How he looks forwards to hearing the albino scream for him.
As his kisses trail lower, he notices that little Kaliningrad (well, not so little, perhaps, but not as large as Russia) is still limp, unexcited. He must be nervous. Well, that’s of little concern.
When he pushes a first finger in, there is almost no resistance, despite how he used only spit for lube. He blinks a few times in surprise. Perhaps he is nervous, but he has remarkably good control over his reflexes. That is admirable indeed.
He prepares Kaliningrad quickly, marveling at the other man’s complete determination to stay still. He has always been stubborn, but never has he been so successful. Well, he’ll have to react, soon.
Russia pushes in smoothly, watching Kaliningrad’s face as he does. To his great disappointment, the albino only turns his head to the side, looking away from Russia once again. He doesn’t even whimper.
Even on the inside, Kaliningrad is quite cool, today. That’s mildly upsetting. It’s not as fun if it’s not warm. And as he thrusts in and out, Kaliningrad is still staying infuriatingly silent. He moves faster, rougher, trying to get a reaction from the man lying prone beneath him. Nothing.
He reaches down to wrap his hand around the other’s neck as his hips pump, hoping that the lack of air will make the other panic and react, dammit, anything, but stop ignoring him!
In the opposite of what he thought would happen, Kaliningrad starts meeting his thrusts, not very much, so slightly it can hardly be noticed, but he does. Russia smiles. He likes this, then?
The tightness, if not warmth, is starting to get to him, now. He feels his lower stomach tighten. A few more thrusts and he comes, deep inside the other man. Kaliningrad groans in unison with Russia, the only noise he’s made in the past week.
Russia stands and zips his pants. Kaliningrad stays where he is, his legs akimbo, his head turned. His eyes are still open. He’s staring at Russia, and it makes the tall nation uncomfortable in a way he can’t quite place. He shivers and leaves, hoping that the small province will return to his normal self soon.
I'm just going to go now. Shit, why did I even--?!
Reply
I especially liked Russia's point of view on the whole thing~
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment