Dear Diary, I no longer need you 10/11
anonymous
January 24 2009, 11:24:48 UTC
“Where did she touch you, Toris?” Russia implored, placing his knee onto the bed, causing it to dip a little as he climbed on. His fingers touched Liet's right shoulder, the usual place he started with when caressing his back, and the brunette jerked away on instinct. His forearm was grabbed in an iron grip-though not held tightly, and he found himself pulled back against Russia's broad chest. The larger nation wrapped him in those long arms of his, only his shirt between them. Lithuania could feel the blond's heart beating rapidly against his back, echoing his own. “Don't do that, Toris. Those are our scars, I can touch them whenever I want to.” He whispered into Lithuania's ear, hot breath tickling the hair there. A shudder ran from Lithuania's body, from the top of his head down to his toes.
“Ours...?” He asked, eyes stinging with tears that wouldn't fall this time.
“Of course...” Lips brushed his neck, followed by slow and heavy kisses to the tender skin. “I gave them to you, didn't I? And they will ache, if I don't soothe them... won't they?” Russia's hands were on Lithuania's hips, running down his thighs. They came back up along the insides, and the brunette shuddered as he pressed back against the solid body behind him. His fears about the scars, Belarus' poison words, he felt them all melting away with just these touches. He nodded slowly, because yes, sometimes his back did ache. Phantom pains of long ago scenes, and memories of frightening anger. Only Russia's gentle touches could assure the Lithuanian that he was safe now.
“I'm sorry,” Lithuania whispered, “I didn't want to...!” He pleaded. Russia gave a small chuckle, but his voice was still dangerous.
“Of course not.” He murmured quietly, lips brushing Lithuania's ear again. His fingers found the semen spread over the brunette's stomach, and he smeared it even as Liet cringed. He was expecting anger, accusations, perhaps even punishment. Instead, those now slick fingers moved around behind him.
“Ahh.. .ha!” Lithuania's back arched as he felt the first slip into him.
“Here, was it?” Russia's voice demanded. “Did she touch you here?”
“Nn... Yes...” Liet whispered in shame. Calloused fingers were stroking his still sensitive member as well, and Lithuania's began to feel his arousal returning. His fear was still there, however. Always there was fear, and it was only lately that he had realized what it was really for...
“Can't have that.” Russia shook his head, slipping a second finger inside, and pressing them deep. Unlike Belarus' slender and searching fingers, Russia knew just where to move them. It wasn't long at all before Lithuania's was writhing in his arms, sweet moans and gasps passing those slack lips of his without shame at all. Russia's kisses left bright red marks over the brunette's neck and shoulders, and the blond smiled in satisfaction when he saw them. His sister was foolish, if she thought that she could win him this way.
Lithuania was a precious belonging of his, one that had to be handled just right. He was often unsure, and frightened of himself, and sometimes he was rather insecure. And so as he shifted the brunette onto his stomach, tracing scars with his fingers and tongue, and Liet writhed on the end of his other hand which was three-fingers deep inside of him, he made sure to take extra time with him. “Toris is mine,” Russia whispered, as if this should be common knowledge. Lithuania groaned in response, moving back against the teasing hand, arching his back up into the tender kisses. It was as much of an answer as Russia could hope to get, as his precious Lithuania was a very stubborn nation. But it was enough. He reached quickly to the bedside drawer, retrieving the bottle of oil from it.
“Ours...?” He asked, eyes stinging with tears that wouldn't fall this time.
“Of course...” Lips brushed his neck, followed by slow and heavy kisses to the tender skin. “I gave them to you, didn't I? And they will ache, if I don't soothe them... won't they?” Russia's hands were on Lithuania's hips, running down his thighs. They came back up along the insides, and the brunette shuddered as he pressed back against the solid body behind him. His fears about the scars, Belarus' poison words, he felt them all melting away with just these touches. He nodded slowly, because yes, sometimes his back did ache. Phantom pains of long ago scenes, and memories of frightening anger. Only Russia's gentle touches could assure the Lithuanian that he was safe now.
“I'm sorry,” Lithuania whispered, “I didn't want to...!” He pleaded. Russia gave a small chuckle, but his voice was still dangerous.
“Of course not.” He murmured quietly, lips brushing Lithuania's ear again. His fingers found the semen spread over the brunette's stomach, and he smeared it even as Liet cringed. He was expecting anger, accusations, perhaps even punishment. Instead, those now slick fingers moved around behind him.
“Ahh.. .ha!” Lithuania's back arched as he felt the first slip into him.
“Here, was it?” Russia's voice demanded. “Did she touch you here?”
“Nn... Yes...” Liet whispered in shame. Calloused fingers were stroking his still sensitive member as well, and Lithuania's began to feel his arousal returning. His fear was still there, however. Always there was fear, and it was only lately that he had realized what it was really for...
“Can't have that.” Russia shook his head, slipping a second finger inside, and pressing them deep. Unlike Belarus' slender and searching fingers, Russia knew just where to move them. It wasn't long at all before Lithuania's was writhing in his arms, sweet moans and gasps passing those slack lips of his without shame at all. Russia's kisses left bright red marks over the brunette's neck and shoulders, and the blond smiled in satisfaction when he saw them. His sister was foolish, if she thought that she could win him this way.
Lithuania was a precious belonging of his, one that had to be handled just right. He was often unsure, and frightened of himself, and sometimes he was rather insecure. And so as he shifted the brunette onto his stomach, tracing scars with his fingers and tongue, and Liet writhed on the end of his other hand which was three-fingers deep inside of him, he made sure to take extra time with him. “Toris is mine,” Russia whispered, as if this should be common knowledge. Lithuania groaned in response, moving back against the teasing hand, arching his back up into the tender kisses. It was as much of an answer as Russia could hope to get, as his precious Lithuania was a very stubborn nation. But it was enough. He reached quickly to the bedside drawer, retrieving the bottle of oil from it.
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