Invincible 3a/4
anonymous
January 15 2011, 22:25:47 UTC
As you've probably guessed, there be unpleasant rape ahead!
“Russia! Hi!” America stepped backward, maneuvering behind a chair to hide his condition. “What brings you here?”
Russia watched him with a small, mysterious smile. “I could ask you the same thing, I think.” He was still wearing his long, wintry coat, though he had ditched the gloves and scarf in the heat.
“I'm not causing any problems, if that's what you're thinking,” America said. “I'm accompanying someone to keep an eye on him. We're vacationing.”
“Oh~” Russia giggled. “Of course. You're just taking a vacation. Never mind all the other islands in the world, you and your friend wanted a nice communist paradise!”
“Those two words are mutually exclusive,” America muttered. “So really, what are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” Russia purred, stepping closer. America refused to back away again. Of course, the only reason he had in the first place had been to conceal himself, so that didn't count.
“Are you here to start nuclear war?” America said with a teasing smile. “Because you know what would happen if you attacked me. Both our countries, smoking craters.”
“And again, I could ask you the same thing. Are you not the trespasser in this case?”
“There's no place in the world where you belong, commie.” Did that even make sense as a comeback? It had sounded good in America's head.
Russia's smile never wavered, though something flickered in his eyes. He moved around the chair, stepping closer to America, who stood his ground. America wasn't about to let Russia win any battles of invading personal space. Soon they were practically nose to big nose. “You think so, hmm?”
“I know so. You won't last.”
Russia giggled. “You are wrong, comrade.”
“Don't call me-”
“It is you who will not last. Cannot last. I have been around for a very long time, have seen your type come and go. You will burn bright and hot, and your flame will burn out quickly.”
America ignored the implications of that statement. “I don't know whether you're insulting me or coming on to me.”
“Just go home,” Russia said with another giggle. He took a step back. “Don't leave this room until your brother comes to collect you. You've been here long enough.”
Russia turned to leave, and America stared after him. “Was that it?” He grimaced. He had meant to just think that. The large nation paused, slowly turned back around. Oh well, may as well go on. “I mean, uh... You came all this way just for a few chuckles at my expense?” America smiled at Russia's confused expression. “I knew you were a coward.” Another flicker across big violet eyes. “I may burn out quickly, but at least I'll be bright for that time. Your country's nothing but violence and unhappiness and will tear itself apart. You'll never be dominant in the world.”
It wasn't just a flicker anymore. Something dangerous, something not altogether sane, settled in Russia's eyes. A look that had not existed before, back when he was just plain Russia. America swallowed down the lump of fear that had formed, firmly telling himself that he was being foolish. Russia couldn't do anything permanent to him. Not if he didn't want to be destroyed himself.
He didn't even have time to wonder how Russia had stored a long faucet pipe in his coat before it was slamming down on America's head. He crumpled to the ground with an agonized yelp, glasses skittering across the room. He fingered the bleeding wound on his scalp, knowing it was his immortality and strength that had protected him from serious damage. And the fact that Russia had probably held back to keep him conscious.
Before he could recover, the pipe swung down again, and America gave a strangled scream when a couple ribs were snapped. He tried to roll away, but another stab of pain kept him still. He breathed shallowly, praying no organs had been damaged. He looked up into Russia's furious, mad face, and his heart nearly stopped in fear.
This wasn't what he had wanted. Why was Russia hurting him?
Invincible 3b/4
anonymous
January 15 2011, 22:27:09 UTC
Russia casually tossed the pipe aside, squatting down by America. “I'm not dominant, hm? That's very funny. I seem to have brought you down pretty quickly.” His childish voice had taken on a chilling edge that was also new.
“L-leave me alone,” America wheezed, already regretting his decision. He didn't want this anymore. He didn't want to be hurt!
“You're the one who didn't want me to go,” Russia said. He scooted forward, straddling America's hips, and America was dimly aware that it was a good thing he had softened during the brief beating. “You're the one who thinks I should be more dominating.”
“I was just trying to insult you.” America looked up at Russia and wondered how he could have ever wanted this. “I didn't mean it literally. Get off!”
Russia just ignored him, reaching for America's bright pineapple-print shirt and yanking it open. A few buttons went scattering and rolling along the floor. America felt his face heat as his enemy took in the sight of his bare chest. “Interesting,” Russia mused. “I'd have thought that jacket was hiding rolls of fat by now.” He ran cold fingers along the muscles of America's stomach, and he grimaced at the touch.
“Stop... What are you doing?”
“Nothing you don't deserve.” Russia moved aside, grabbing the waistband of America's khaki shorts and yanking them down, leaving America in only his boxers and the remains of his opened shirt. Russia's smile grew as he stared, and America realized he had somehow grown hard again as he was stripped. What the hell was wrong with his body? “Well. My dear comrade. You are liking this, da?”
America's face was a furnace. “Shut the fuck up!” Russia's eyes on his body was a lot more embarrassing than he had thought.
“How very interesting.” And he reached down and cupped America through the thin fabric.
America made a keening sound, trying to squirm away. Oh god, it was wrong, so wrong! Always before, whatever he had been fantasizing, it had still been him. It had always been his own familiar hand. Russia's hand on him was disgusting and kind of horrifying. “Don't touch me!” He winced as more pain stabbed him in the head and chest when he moved.
“You are free to escape.” Russia tugged a switchblade from his coat and flicking it open. Hadn't America imagined that very action in the past? He brought the knife down to America's hip, and cut through the fabric of the boxers, sliding the blade down along his thigh. Russia moved the knife to the other thigh and repeated the process. He finished cutting through the underwear and removed them, completely revealing America's body to his heated gaze.
America was dimly aware that he had started to tremble, hating, hating the feel of those eyes on him. He had always been a modest person around others in spite of his dark fantasies, had always been the shy type who made love in the dark. His imagination could not prepare him for the utter humiliation that brought tears to his eyes as Russia observed his naked body.
“You like this.” Russia reached down with his unarmed hand and wrapped it around America's cock. America bucked with a yell, ignoring the agony that caused, kicking, squirming. The feeling of defilement coursed through him as Russia gently, like a lover, caressed his hand along the shaft.
“Oh god, don't touch me!” America yelled. “Get off me! Get your disgusting hand off of me!”
“You are not in any position to be giving orders,” Russia said with another giggle. He smoothed his thumb over America's cockhead and flicked the slit. America's hips bucked again, though not of his own accord. “I have never seen anyone so excited!”
“You bastard,” America growled. “I am not enjoying this!”
“Of course not.” Russia tilted his head, smile still in place. “I'm a man, I understand how our bodies work and react. If I honestly thought you were enjoying this, I wouldn't do it. So if you think about it, if you said 'yes' instead of 'stop', I would have stopped! Funny, huh?” He smoothed the flat of his blade along America's shaft.
Invincible 3c/4
anonymous
January 15 2011, 22:28:06 UTC
“I was about to walk out,” Russia mused, as if talking to himself. “You have only yourself to blame for any of this.” He rapidly unbuttoned his coat and removed it, revealing nothing underneath but black pants. His pale chest was broad and muscled, stomach a little pudgy over the strong abs. He folded the coat up and set it on the bed, snatching up a pillow. He returned to America and shoved the pillow under him, lifting his ass a bit into the air.
“Oh god...” America pressed his knees together. It was bad enough to have Russia touching his genitals. He did not want his hands there. Just thinking of the numerous fantasies he had had of his own hands belonging to the larger nation, getting off on the thought of Russia touching him, made America feel ill.
“Now now. Don't be shy.” Russia placed his hands on America's knees, smiling down at him. “Are you going to cooperate?”
“Fuck you!”
Russia just giggled again, and pried America's legs open as if it were the simplest task. America shivered as the large hands skimmed along his thighs. They pushed his legs further, as far as they would go, leaving America obscenely splayed open, horrifyingly on display. Cursing himself for the tears that stung his eyes, America numbly watched Russia unfasten his pants and free his erection.
Another whimper escaped, and his trembling increased. Biggest nation in the world indeed. “N-no...” It was impossible! America had never been penetrated by anything that size before! He just used three fingers in his fantasies! “Oh god, Russia, no!”
America's aching chest hitched as Russia crawled closer, huge cock bobbing closer to America's raised ass. Russia pressed close, rubbing his member against America's, laughing as they twitched together. He moved America's legs again, pushing his knees up toward his chest, exposing him further. He rubbed his cockhead against America's ass, sliding it along the crease, tickling his entrance. America's body shook as he braced himself.
Russia giggled some more as he continued to tease America, cock caressing and nudging against his entrance but not pressing in. “Well, America,” he practically sang. “It seems you've finally lost.”
His cockhead finally pressed inward, forcing its way past the ring of muscle, sliding in deep with a strong thrust. America threw back his head and screamed as he was violently torn into. Nothing, nothing he had ever done could have prepared him for such intense, intimate pain. Russia continued to press in deeper, impossibly deep, and when America thought Russia had pushed in as far as he possibly could, he gave another thrust and embedded himself to the hilt. “F-fuck you!” He tried to struggle, to squirm away, but the slightest movement sent new bolts of pain zinging up his spine.
“You are confused, comrade. I am fucking you.” Russia slowly pulled back, agonizingly removing himself inch by inch, blood dripping out. Then he gave a sharp snap of his hips and slammed back in, and America howled as he was torn open further. Unlike past lovers, unlike America himself when he fantasized about this very moment, Russia gave him no pause to adjust or catch his breath. He thrust in and out at a relentless pace, moaning and sighing with pleasure as America writhed and cried.
I'm the hero! America thought as he gave a brokenhearted wail. Why can't I handle this?
“You're beautiful like this,” Russia said huskily, and the fact that it sounded just like he was addressing a lover made it all the worse. “Just like this, trembling and crying and broken. If only the rest of the world could see you like this.”
Not broken! America howled in his mind. Never!
Russia leaned closer, angling deeper, their bodies rocking together. America hadn't thought his horror could grow, but then Russia kissed him, thrusting his tongue in. He drew America's tongue into his own mouth, suckling on it until America pulled back slightly. Chuckling deep in his throat, Russia captured America's lower lip between his teeth, teasing it, then biting down hard enough to draw blood.
Invincible 3d/4
anonymous
January 15 2011, 22:29:09 UTC
Russia's interest in teasing America decreased as his breathing grew ragged, thrusts growing short and sharp. America squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting Russia's seed inside him but knowing he had no choice. The thrusts grew harder, deeper, slamming into America as if Russia were attempting to drive him through the floor. America stared up at him with wide eyes, stared at the growing expression of triumph on his face. Russia had won. And he knew it. He looked down into America's eyes, violet meeting blue, and he saw the defeat there. Russia gave one last, harsh thrust, his cry sounding more like one of victory than pleasure.
A choked sob escaped when America felt sticky warmth fill him.
He sagged back in agonized relief when the bastard pulled out of him, leaving him empty aside from the mingling liquids that trickled out. “Leave me...”
“Now what type of gentleman would I be if I left you in this state, hmm?” Russia again wrapped his hand around America's length, coaxing it again back to hardness in spite of the intense pain he was in.
“No,” America moaned. He already felt drained in every way, the last thing he wanted on top of everything else was for Russia's hands to get him off. “No, don't touch me. You've gotten what you want.”
“Not yet.” Russia pumped him, a look of amused concentration on his face as he watched himself work, watched America's hips jerk of their own free will. America's toes curled, his hands clenched, his body shook from more than just terror and pain. Russia's other hand came to help, stroking and rolling his balls, trailing through pubic hair, caressing his inner thighs.
America cried out when he came, body jerking, cock twitching in Russia's grip. With a grin, Russia continued to stroke, getting every drop out. He didn't stop until America collapsed back, exhausted.
Russia leaned over America. “Your brother should be coming soon,” he said. “I wish the whole world could see you like this, but at least somebody will.” He bent closer to bite America's neck, sucking on the spot, marking him. “We should do this again.”
The larger nation stood, fastening his pants. He grabbed his coat from the bed and slung it over one shoulder, humming an obnoxious tune. Straightened out, Russia turned on his heel and left, door slamming shut behind him.
America didn't move. He remained sprawled on the floor, legs splayed, red and white dribbling out of him, eyes staring at the cracked ceiling. The one thing he had wanted, had dreamed of, since he was young. The one thing he thought would prove he was invincible.
Re: Invincible 3d/4
anonymous
January 16 2011, 06:28:22 UTC
This is one of the more realistic rapes I've ever read. Good job on that. You really showed the emotions and everything so well. I loved it because of the heart wrenching feelings ;-; You sure theres only one more part ? TT.TT
Invincible 4/4
anonymous
January 27 2011, 03:14:13 UTC
Just a brief fail!ending. orz
“I'm back!” Canada said, letting himself in to their room. “I really did try to bring you back some ice cream, but it was melting so fast I had to eat it, and...” He froze as his eyes fell upon the figure on the floor. “Wha...?” He stood frozen in shock as he took in the pathetic sight of his brother, naked and bloody and bruised, staring at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. “Am... America?” Canada gaped like an idiotic fish for a moment before snapping out of it, hurrying to America's side with a low cry. “Oh god! America!” In a brief moment of flustered terror, Canada felt for a pulse, certain he was dead. But that wasn't possible, of course, and America's heart beat strongly.
Choking back a sob, Canada surveyed the damage. “My god... who did this to you? Are you okay? America, say something...” He yanked a sheet from the bed and covered his twin with it.
“Canada?” The voice was weak, pained.
“I'm here.” He found America's hand and squeezed it. “Are you okay?”
“I'll be fine...”
Canada swallowed. They'd have to delay their trip home, of course. Hospitals didn't do their kind any good, they'd just have to wait for his healing to kick in. In the meantime... he'd just have to suffer... “Who did this?”
America turned his face away. “Russia.”
Canada gaped at him, heart plummeting. “Russia...” he repeated numbly. “He... we... I'm going to call the others. They have to know-”
The hand gripping his tightened, and America turned back to face him, eyes hard. “No.”
“What? But-”
“No.” America winced from some injury or other. “This stays between us.”
“America... we have to-”
“I won't let another world war start. Not for my sake...”
Canada stroked his free hand through America's hair, stopping when it was clear that caused him more pain. Shit. He had a point... If England and the others found out about what happened, they could very well retaliate. Canada sure as hell wished he could. He'd give anything to punish the one responsible...
“Oh!” Canada's throat closed. Oh no... “Cuba...” Tears welled up in his eyes. That had to be it. They'd just been laughing and talking all day... “He called Russia. Didn't he.”
“Probably,” America said hoarsely. “I doubt he knew about this.”
“You do?”
“Probably thought Russia would just beat me up a bit...”
“America...” After such abuse, he was letting both of those responsible off the hook for the greater good.
“That's probably all it was going to be.” America's voice had grown heartbreakingly tearful. “Not even that. He was going to leave without doing a thing. But me and my big mouth... I taunted him... this is my fault...”
And Canada had thought his heart couldn't break any more. “No!” He gathered his brother into his arms as gently as possible. He needed to get him off the floor, but for now, he just wanted to hold him. “No, no. It's not your fault at all. Nothing you could have possibly said deserved this.”
“I thought I was a hero!”
“This doesn't make you less of a hero!”
“I thought I was invincible...”
Canada winced. “Nobody's invincible, America.”
America looked up at him with haunted eyes. “I know that now.”
He said nothing more after that. Canada hauled his brother onto the bed, trying not to notice the grimaces of pain. He just left him naked under the sheet, knowing that dressing him would be useless torture. But maybe he could clean him up, at least...
Canada glanced toward the door, contemplating. Part of him really, really wanted to confront Cuba. But... well, America was probably right. No matter how much Cuba hated him, he would never willingly do this to America. On the other hand, it would be nice to let him know what calling upon Russia really entailed.
Russia... Canada scowled, teeth gritted and brows drawing together. He was a powerful opponent now. But that wouldn't last. And when that day came, Canada (and America) would show him that he wasn't invincible, either.
Re: Invincible 4/4
anonymous
January 28 2011, 01:01:52 UTC
Poor poor America! I love how he's still got his noble hero sensibilities, but he's so broken! And Canada, you should go kick Russia's ass, no matter the complications it would cause!
“Russia! Hi!” America stepped backward, maneuvering behind a chair to hide his condition. “What brings you here?”
Russia watched him with a small, mysterious smile. “I could ask you the same thing, I think.” He was still wearing his long, wintry coat, though he had ditched the gloves and scarf in the heat.
“I'm not causing any problems, if that's what you're thinking,” America said. “I'm accompanying someone to keep an eye on him. We're vacationing.”
“Oh~” Russia giggled. “Of course. You're just taking a vacation. Never mind all the other islands in the world, you and your friend wanted a nice communist paradise!”
“Those two words are mutually exclusive,” America muttered. “So really, what are you doing here?”
“I came to see you,” Russia purred, stepping closer. America refused to back away again. Of course, the only reason he had in the first place had been to conceal himself, so that didn't count.
“Are you here to start nuclear war?” America said with a teasing smile. “Because you know what would happen if you attacked me. Both our countries, smoking craters.”
“And again, I could ask you the same thing. Are you not the trespasser in this case?”
“There's no place in the world where you belong, commie.” Did that even make sense as a comeback? It had sounded good in America's head.
Russia's smile never wavered, though something flickered in his eyes. He moved around the chair, stepping closer to America, who stood his ground. America wasn't about to let Russia win any battles of invading personal space. Soon they were practically nose to big nose. “You think so, hmm?”
“I know so. You won't last.”
Russia giggled. “You are wrong, comrade.”
“Don't call me-”
“It is you who will not last. Cannot last. I have been around for a very long time, have seen your type come and go. You will burn bright and hot, and your flame will burn out quickly.”
America ignored the implications of that statement. “I don't know whether you're insulting me or coming on to me.”
“Just go home,” Russia said with another giggle. He took a step back. “Don't leave this room until your brother comes to collect you. You've been here long enough.”
Russia turned to leave, and America stared after him. “Was that it?” He grimaced. He had meant to just think that. The large nation paused, slowly turned back around. Oh well, may as well go on. “I mean, uh... You came all this way just for a few chuckles at my expense?” America smiled at Russia's confused expression. “I knew you were a coward.” Another flicker across big violet eyes. “I may burn out quickly, but at least I'll be bright for that time. Your country's nothing but violence and unhappiness and will tear itself apart. You'll never be dominant in the world.”
It wasn't just a flicker anymore. Something dangerous, something not altogether sane, settled in Russia's eyes. A look that had not existed before, back when he was just plain Russia. America swallowed down the lump of fear that had formed, firmly telling himself that he was being foolish. Russia couldn't do anything permanent to him. Not if he didn't want to be destroyed himself.
He didn't even have time to wonder how Russia had stored a long faucet pipe in his coat before it was slamming down on America's head. He crumpled to the ground with an agonized yelp, glasses skittering across the room. He fingered the bleeding wound on his scalp, knowing it was his immortality and strength that had protected him from serious damage. And the fact that Russia had probably held back to keep him conscious.
Before he could recover, the pipe swung down again, and America gave a strangled scream when a couple ribs were snapped. He tried to roll away, but another stab of pain kept him still. He breathed shallowly, praying no organs had been damaged. He looked up into Russia's furious, mad face, and his heart nearly stopped in fear.
This wasn't what he had wanted. Why was Russia hurting him?
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“L-leave me alone,” America wheezed, already regretting his decision. He didn't want this anymore. He didn't want to be hurt!
“You're the one who didn't want me to go,” Russia said. He scooted forward, straddling America's hips, and America was dimly aware that it was a good thing he had softened during the brief beating. “You're the one who thinks I should be more dominating.”
“I was just trying to insult you.” America looked up at Russia and wondered how he could have ever wanted this. “I didn't mean it literally. Get off!”
Russia just ignored him, reaching for America's bright pineapple-print shirt and yanking it open. A few buttons went scattering and rolling along the floor. America felt his face heat as his enemy took in the sight of his bare chest. “Interesting,” Russia mused. “I'd have thought that jacket was hiding rolls of fat by now.” He ran cold fingers along the muscles of America's stomach, and he grimaced at the touch.
“Stop... What are you doing?”
“Nothing you don't deserve.” Russia moved aside, grabbing the waistband of America's khaki shorts and yanking them down, leaving America in only his boxers and the remains of his opened shirt. Russia's smile grew as he stared, and America realized he had somehow grown hard again as he was stripped. What the hell was wrong with his body? “Well. My dear comrade. You are liking this, da?”
America's face was a furnace. “Shut the fuck up!” Russia's eyes on his body was a lot more embarrassing than he had thought.
“How very interesting.” And he reached down and cupped America through the thin fabric.
America made a keening sound, trying to squirm away. Oh god, it was wrong, so wrong! Always before, whatever he had been fantasizing, it had still been him. It had always been his own familiar hand. Russia's hand on him was disgusting and kind of horrifying. “Don't touch me!” He winced as more pain stabbed him in the head and chest when he moved.
“You are free to escape.” Russia tugged a switchblade from his coat and flicking it open. Hadn't America imagined that very action in the past? He brought the knife down to America's hip, and cut through the fabric of the boxers, sliding the blade down along his thigh. Russia moved the knife to the other thigh and repeated the process. He finished cutting through the underwear and removed them, completely revealing America's body to his heated gaze.
America was dimly aware that he had started to tremble, hating, hating the feel of those eyes on him. He had always been a modest person around others in spite of his dark fantasies, had always been the shy type who made love in the dark. His imagination could not prepare him for the utter humiliation that brought tears to his eyes as Russia observed his naked body.
“You like this.” Russia reached down with his unarmed hand and wrapped it around America's cock. America bucked with a yell, ignoring the agony that caused, kicking, squirming. The feeling of defilement coursed through him as Russia gently, like a lover, caressed his hand along the shaft.
“Oh god, don't touch me!” America yelled. “Get off me! Get your disgusting hand off of me!”
“You are not in any position to be giving orders,” Russia said with another giggle. He smoothed his thumb over America's cockhead and flicked the slit. America's hips bucked again, though not of his own accord. “I have never seen anyone so excited!”
“You bastard,” America growled. “I am not enjoying this!”
“Of course not.” Russia tilted his head, smile still in place. “I'm a man, I understand how our bodies work and react. If I honestly thought you were enjoying this, I wouldn't do it. So if you think about it, if you said 'yes' instead of 'stop', I would have stopped! Funny, huh?” He smoothed the flat of his blade along America's shaft.
America shivered. “S-stop...”
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“Oh god...” America pressed his knees together. It was bad enough to have Russia touching his genitals. He did not want his hands there. Just thinking of the numerous fantasies he had had of his own hands belonging to the larger nation, getting off on the thought of Russia touching him, made America feel ill.
“Now now. Don't be shy.” Russia placed his hands on America's knees, smiling down at him. “Are you going to cooperate?”
“Fuck you!”
Russia just giggled again, and pried America's legs open as if it were the simplest task. America shivered as the large hands skimmed along his thighs. They pushed his legs further, as far as they would go, leaving America obscenely splayed open, horrifyingly on display. Cursing himself for the tears that stung his eyes, America numbly watched Russia unfasten his pants and free his erection.
Another whimper escaped, and his trembling increased. Biggest nation in the world indeed. “N-no...” It was impossible! America had never been penetrated by anything that size before! He just used three fingers in his fantasies! “Oh god, Russia, no!”
America's aching chest hitched as Russia crawled closer, huge cock bobbing closer to America's raised ass. Russia pressed close, rubbing his member against America's, laughing as they twitched together. He moved America's legs again, pushing his knees up toward his chest, exposing him further. He rubbed his cockhead against America's ass, sliding it along the crease, tickling his entrance. America's body shook as he braced himself.
Russia giggled some more as he continued to tease America, cock caressing and nudging against his entrance but not pressing in. “Well, America,” he practically sang. “It seems you've finally lost.”
His cockhead finally pressed inward, forcing its way past the ring of muscle, sliding in deep with a strong thrust. America threw back his head and screamed as he was violently torn into. Nothing, nothing he had ever done could have prepared him for such intense, intimate pain. Russia continued to press in deeper, impossibly deep, and when America thought Russia had pushed in as far as he possibly could, he gave another thrust and embedded himself to the hilt. “F-fuck you!” He tried to struggle, to squirm away, but the slightest movement sent new bolts of pain zinging up his spine.
“You are confused, comrade. I am fucking you.” Russia slowly pulled back, agonizingly removing himself inch by inch, blood dripping out. Then he gave a sharp snap of his hips and slammed back in, and America howled as he was torn open further. Unlike past lovers, unlike America himself when he fantasized about this very moment, Russia gave him no pause to adjust or catch his breath. He thrust in and out at a relentless pace, moaning and sighing with pleasure as America writhed and cried.
I'm the hero! America thought as he gave a brokenhearted wail. Why can't I handle this?
“You're beautiful like this,” Russia said huskily, and the fact that it sounded just like he was addressing a lover made it all the worse. “Just like this, trembling and crying and broken. If only the rest of the world could see you like this.”
Not broken! America howled in his mind. Never!
Russia leaned closer, angling deeper, their bodies rocking together. America hadn't thought his horror could grow, but then Russia kissed him, thrusting his tongue in. He drew America's tongue into his own mouth, suckling on it until America pulled back slightly. Chuckling deep in his throat, Russia captured America's lower lip between his teeth, teasing it, then biting down hard enough to draw blood.
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A choked sob escaped when America felt sticky warmth fill him.
He sagged back in agonized relief when the bastard pulled out of him, leaving him empty aside from the mingling liquids that trickled out. “Leave me...”
“Now what type of gentleman would I be if I left you in this state, hmm?” Russia again wrapped his hand around America's length, coaxing it again back to hardness in spite of the intense pain he was in.
“No,” America moaned. He already felt drained in every way, the last thing he wanted on top of everything else was for Russia's hands to get him off. “No, don't touch me. You've gotten what you want.”
“Not yet.” Russia pumped him, a look of amused concentration on his face as he watched himself work, watched America's hips jerk of their own free will. America's toes curled, his hands clenched, his body shook from more than just terror and pain. Russia's other hand came to help, stroking and rolling his balls, trailing through pubic hair, caressing his inner thighs.
America cried out when he came, body jerking, cock twitching in Russia's grip. With a grin, Russia continued to stroke, getting every drop out. He didn't stop until America collapsed back, exhausted.
Russia leaned over America. “Your brother should be coming soon,” he said. “I wish the whole world could see you like this, but at least somebody will.” He bent closer to bite America's neck, sucking on the spot, marking him. “We should do this again.”
The larger nation stood, fastening his pants. He grabbed his coat from the bed and slung it over one shoulder, humming an obnoxious tune. Straightened out, Russia turned on his heel and left, door slamming shut behind him.
America didn't move. He remained sprawled on the floor, legs splayed, red and white dribbling out of him, eyes staring at the cracked ceiling. The one thing he had wanted, had dreamed of, since he was young. The one thing he thought would prove he was invincible.
It had broken him.
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*can't find anything else to say*
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Very glad there's a part four coming up for this. Brutal.
Of course, because I am a freaky perv, I loved it.
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“I'm back!” Canada said, letting himself in to their room. “I really did try to bring you back some ice cream, but it was melting so fast I had to eat it, and...” He froze as his eyes fell upon the figure on the floor. “Wha...?” He stood frozen in shock as he took in the pathetic sight of his brother, naked and bloody and bruised, staring at the ceiling with unseeing eyes. “Am... America?” Canada gaped like an idiotic fish for a moment before snapping out of it, hurrying to America's side with a low cry. “Oh god! America!” In a brief moment of flustered terror, Canada felt for a pulse, certain he was dead. But that wasn't possible, of course, and America's heart beat strongly.
Choking back a sob, Canada surveyed the damage. “My god... who did this to you? Are you okay? America, say something...” He yanked a sheet from the bed and covered his twin with it.
“Canada?” The voice was weak, pained.
“I'm here.” He found America's hand and squeezed it. “Are you okay?”
“I'll be fine...”
Canada swallowed. They'd have to delay their trip home, of course. Hospitals didn't do their kind any good, they'd just have to wait for his healing to kick in. In the meantime... he'd just have to suffer... “Who did this?”
America turned his face away. “Russia.”
Canada gaped at him, heart plummeting. “Russia...” he repeated numbly. “He... we... I'm going to call the others. They have to know-”
The hand gripping his tightened, and America turned back to face him, eyes hard. “No.”
“What? But-”
“No.” America winced from some injury or other. “This stays between us.”
“America... we have to-”
“I won't let another world war start. Not for my sake...”
Canada stroked his free hand through America's hair, stopping when it was clear that caused him more pain. Shit. He had a point... If England and the others found out about what happened, they could very well retaliate. Canada sure as hell wished he could. He'd give anything to punish the one responsible...
“Oh!” Canada's throat closed. Oh no... “Cuba...” Tears welled up in his eyes. That had to be it. They'd just been laughing and talking all day... “He called Russia. Didn't he.”
“Probably,” America said hoarsely. “I doubt he knew about this.”
“You do?”
“Probably thought Russia would just beat me up a bit...”
“America...” After such abuse, he was letting both of those responsible off the hook for the greater good.
“That's probably all it was going to be.” America's voice had grown heartbreakingly tearful. “Not even that. He was going to leave without doing a thing. But me and my big mouth... I taunted him... this is my fault...”
And Canada had thought his heart couldn't break any more. “No!” He gathered his brother into his arms as gently as possible. He needed to get him off the floor, but for now, he just wanted to hold him. “No, no. It's not your fault at all. Nothing you could have possibly said deserved this.”
“I thought I was a hero!”
“This doesn't make you less of a hero!”
“I thought I was invincible...”
Canada winced. “Nobody's invincible, America.”
America looked up at him with haunted eyes. “I know that now.”
He said nothing more after that. Canada hauled his brother onto the bed, trying not to notice the grimaces of pain. He just left him naked under the sheet, knowing that dressing him would be useless torture. But maybe he could clean him up, at least...
Canada glanced toward the door, contemplating. Part of him really, really wanted to confront Cuba. But... well, America was probably right. No matter how much Cuba hated him, he would never willingly do this to America. On the other hand, it would be nice to let him know what calling upon Russia really entailed.
Russia... Canada scowled, teeth gritted and brows drawing together. He was a powerful opponent now. But that wouldn't last. And when that day came, Canada (and America) would show him that he wasn't invincible, either.
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/fails
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But seriously, Vengeful!Canada is hot
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