Induction (3/6)
anonymous
March 22 2009, 16:36:52 UTC
“Lithuania, won’t you lie down? I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable that way.”
Lithuania startles as he hears Russia speak to him for the first time, glancing quickly over Prussia’s shoulder. Russia simply smiles at him, continuing to stroke Prussia’s side. He obeys slowly, easing himself down, lips pressed tightly together as Russia nods approvingly. Prussia follows soon after, bracing his arms on either side of Lithuania’s head as Russia pushes him down with a hand on his back. He can see Prussia’s arms shaking slightly.
He doesn’t know where to put his hands. His fingers twitch, and he’s tempted to reach up, to run a hand down Prussia’s flank, but Prussia wouldn’t want comfort, wouldn’t want pity. Lithuania settles on clenching the sheets tightly, not letting himself let go. Russia’s fingers continue to move against him, picking up a steady, firm rhythm that Lithuania can’t help but follow, closing his eyes tightly.
To his mortification, he can’t help but make a small noise of loss when Russia’s fingers pull out, echoed by a hiss from Prussia. Lithuania blinks his eyes open again to see Russia kneeling down behind Prussia, straddling Lithuania’s legs and knocking Prussia’s knees further apart. He can see Prussia’s eyes widen, realization sinking in fully.
There’s a sudden spasm of movement from Prussia, struggling against Russia’s tight grip on his hips. “Fucking shit - Russia, fuck, stop-“ Prussia says, twisting around sharply.
Lithuania’s eyes widen, grabbing at the sheets hard-he can feel Russia pushing in beside him, and there’s no way they can both fit, no way.
“East, didn’t you say you could take anything I could dish out? It’s not like you to go back on such promises.” Russia’s voice shakes only the slightest bit as he gives a short thrust in.
Prussia’s arms buckle slightly, almost collapsing. “Fuck, d-don’t call me that. Don’t.”
“Would you like Gilbert better for now? You can’t be called Prussia now, after all.”
Prussia’s face turns furious, throat working frantically to get out something and managing only inarticulate noises of rage and humiliation. He visibly reins himself back, biting his lip, silent.
Russia gives another short thrust, working himself in just the slightest bit more, and every inch more seems impossibly, impossibly tight. Prussia’s hands are tightly fisted in the sheets by his head, and Lithuania focuses on that, can’t look at Prussia. He can hear Russia breathing steadily above the both of them.
Russia grasps Prussia’s hips more tightly, and moves suddenly in a long, smooth thrust until, God, he’s completely inside and oh, it’s too, too much. He doesn’t want this, he doesn’t, but it feels so tight, so hot, and he can’t help but cry out.
Induction (3/6)
anonymous
March 22 2009, 16:38:08 UTC
Prussia’s lip is bleeding where he’s bitten through it, blood shining red for an instant before he brings a shaking hand up to swipe at his lip, painting a streak across his cheek.
“I-is that all you’ve got, h-huh? You fuck-“ Prussia gasps out tightly, and it’s so wrong to hear that edge of desperation to Prussia’s words.
“I-I am going to move now, East,” Russia rumbles, stroking a hand down Prussia’s spine and letting it come to rest in the dip of his back.
Lithuania can see Prussia’s chest heaving convulsively, his pale skin angrily flushed. “Just-just do it a-already, you bastard.”
The first real thrust seems to drag along every raw nerve in his body. He just can’t seem get any air into his lungs, unable to do anything except gasp and feel his own hips
God, Prussia’s body is so tense, a single, shaking line between them, and god, he was going to break like this, they were going to break him-but Prussia doesn’t break, the bastard, he just keeps on kicking and biting and fighting- and it was tight, so tight, Russia’s cock almost burningly hot against his own, sliding slickly in, every slight movement making him gasp at the sensations breaking over him in waves, skirting the edge of too much.
Prussia’s intermittent grunts were now a steady stream of breathless cursing escaping from between his clenched teeth, his eyes closed where his head hung down, as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up any more. Russia reaches forward, loosely cupping his hand around Prussia’s throat, and draws Prussia’s body against his own, Prussia letting go a hoarse yell as everything-shifts, the heat and friction almost unbearable.
Prussia looks lost, eyes wide open, turning his face into Russia’s neck to try and muffle a low, desperate moan. There’s something mesmerizing about the pink of Prussia’s open mouth that makes Lithuania want to touch him, to slip a finger inside his mouth and feel the slick softness there. But he can’t reach him, can’t tug him away from Russia’s embrace-- can only run his hands over Prussia’s legs, thumbs tracing little circles on the thin skin of his inner thighs, soft and vulnerable.
Russia has a hand wrapped around Prussia’s cock, stroking lightly, Prussia’s hips unconsciously swaying into the loose grip. “You-you are very pretty like this, East. So-open. So pretty,” Russia says, holding Prussia closer to him, an arm bracketing his chest. “I will-take care of you, yes? Yes.” Lithuania has to block out Russia’s soft, breathless whisper, can’t look at Prussia and the fury and resignation etched into each shaking muscle as he thrusts up into Russia’s hand.
Induction (5/6) (Whoops, above was 4/6)
anonymous
March 22 2009, 16:39:42 UTC
Lithuania runs his hands restlessly along Prussia’s spread thighs-he can feel the muscles there shaking - unable to keep his hips still, needing to move, to-
Lithuania feels the tight squeeze of Prussia’s body first, making him gasp and thrust up hard, vaguely registering the sight of Prussia biting his lip tight and coming silently into Russia’s hand, Russia petting Prussia’s side with a low murmur of “good, good,” as Prussia shakes through the aftershocks.
He seems to take a moment to collect himself, his breathing ragged, before roughly pushing himself away from Russia and planting a hand on Lithuania’s chest, bracing his knees wide on the bed and squeezing deliberately around the both of them, still panting harshly.
“Come already, you-ah-bastard,” Prussia’s voice is wrecked, and he’s pushing himself down roughly onto the both of them.
And it’s too, too much, and he just has to-let go.
He can feel Russia thrusting a few more times before stilling and shuddering deeply, letting out a shaky sigh. Russia slumps against Prussia’s back, hands still roving and gently petting. For a moment, the three of them breathe, slowly and shakily.
Prussia starts shifting, his muscles gathering as if trying to tense up again, but his body won’t seem to obey, constantly lapsing back to an exhausted slackness. The movement makes Russia pull back a little, still cradling Prussia, making a soft shushing sound again. Russia pulls a hand back, as if curious, reaching down and tracing the stretched, tight skin around him and Lithuania, making Prussia let out a sharp hiss, his body jerking all at once.
“One-one at a time, yes?” Russia says. Prussia scowls and opens his mouth to make some kind of remark, before closing his mouth and nodding tightly, hands fisted in the sheets and teeth gritted as Russia slips out. Everything feels oversensitive, raw.
Lithuania tries reaching towards Prussia to help brace himself, but Prussia knocks his hands away, pushing himself up slowly and collapsing to Lithuania’s side with a rough breath of air, throwing an arm over his eyes. It’s-odd to see him say nothing.
Russia is the first to move; through the filter of his eyelashes, Lithuania can see him head towards the bathroom, the harsh neon light clicking on for an instant, and the sound of running water trickling sluggishly.
Russia comes out again a little later with a damp towel, now dressed. He feels the bed dip under Russia’s weight again and turns slowly towards the dip, keeping Russia in sight. Russia runs a hand down Prussia’s spine, Prussia jerking away from the touch and letting go a stifled curse at the sudden movement.
“Fuck-off. I’ll clean myself up,” Prussia says. Russia simply shrugs, handing over the towel.
Induction (6/6)
anonymous
March 22 2009, 16:41:54 UTC
Lithuania steels himself to not pull away as Russia leans over and brushes his hand over Lithuania’s cheek almost tenderly-possessively.
“Ah, Lithuania, we shall discuss the matter regarding the newest economic plan later, yes?”
He nods stiffly.
“Good, good.” With that, Russia sweeps out of the room, closing the door with a click and leaving the both of them in the dim light.
Lithuania sighs, rolling onto his side. The curtains were closed-ah, that’s why it was so dark. He shifts over, sitting up and tugging open the dingy curtains to the asphalt-grey sky and letting a flat morning light filter into the room. It’s a familiar light, the sort that makes everything seem all too real, harshly stark.
He opens his mouth, wanting to say something- anything- and closes it again. Anything he says right now would be at best, cold comfort, and at worst, a lie. He doesn’t like lying to anyone, these days.
Prussia - East-shifts slowly from his prone position, moving gingerly to sit beside him, overlooking the grey concrete buildings rising up around them like ragged teeth, and laughs hoarsely. “Welcome to the Soviet Bloc, huh?” He passes a hand over his face, not looking at Lithuania. Prussia’s movements are stiff, restrained, as if holding himself together.
He feels so tired.
All Lithuania wants to do is to curl under the covers, to sleep. Instead, he stands up, stepping into his clothes and heading for the small kitchenette to put the percolator on the stove. There’s a crack in the linoleum that he should fix.
He hands Prussia a mug of coffee, sitting down on the bed again. “It’s cold in the morning,” he says, and Prussia’s mouth quirks up.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Prussia says, his voice still rough.
The coffee’s cheap, but it’s hot, the warmth gradually seeping into Lithuania's hands, and Prussia’s body is warm beside his. That, for now, has to be enough.
Re: Induction (6/6)
anonymous
March 22 2009, 17:36:28 UTC
THIS.
WINS.
EVERYTHING.
EVER.
fffffffffffffuck anon. You made it hot and hurting and burning and sad and sexy and goddamn I could drop adjectives forever and it wouldn't express the utter dominating WIN of this fill appropriately.
anon is authoranon of the first fill
anonymous
March 22 2009, 18:05:22 UTC
And I fucking loved this.
I loved Liet's POV, the way he doesn't like rough sex but takes strength from Prussia's stoic hedonism (fuck the paradox, he's awesome enough), the subtle hints that gentleness now would break him, the description of Prussia as irrepressibly bold, oh yes, yes that exactly.
This whole thing flirts perfectly on the dubcon line of capitulation=/=consent, which is a fascinating and fucked-up psychological place to write about, and I love how well you pulled it off.
And then, fuck, Russia calling Prussia East, and Prussia shifting between defiance and begging, just ow, oh Prussia.
And the sensations from the point of view of one of the DPers instead of Prussia were fucking hot. unf.
And Russia was huge and inscrutable and scary and hot, so well done.
I think the end was my favorite though, where you just keep hammering home at the damaged-not-broken coping of Prussia and Lithuania both, with Russia looming callously around, the description of the cold and the floor and the warmth at the end, and the ache-okay-ache of it, oh anon, I love this. I'm so, so, so glad you filled it too.
Lithuania startles as he hears Russia speak to him for the first time, glancing quickly over Prussia’s shoulder. Russia simply smiles at him, continuing to stroke Prussia’s side. He obeys slowly, easing himself down, lips pressed tightly together as Russia nods approvingly. Prussia follows soon after, bracing his arms on either side of Lithuania’s head as Russia pushes him down with a hand on his back. He can see Prussia’s arms shaking slightly.
He doesn’t know where to put his hands. His fingers twitch, and he’s tempted to reach up, to run a hand down Prussia’s flank, but Prussia wouldn’t want comfort, wouldn’t want pity. Lithuania settles on clenching the sheets tightly, not letting himself let go. Russia’s fingers continue to move against him, picking up a steady, firm rhythm that Lithuania can’t help but follow, closing his eyes tightly.
To his mortification, he can’t help but make a small noise of loss when Russia’s fingers pull out, echoed by a hiss from Prussia. Lithuania blinks his eyes open again to see Russia kneeling down behind Prussia, straddling Lithuania’s legs and knocking Prussia’s knees further apart. He can see Prussia’s eyes widen, realization sinking in fully.
There’s a sudden spasm of movement from Prussia, struggling against Russia’s tight grip on his hips. “Fucking shit - Russia, fuck, stop-“ Prussia says, twisting around sharply.
Lithuania’s eyes widen, grabbing at the sheets hard-he can feel Russia pushing in beside him, and there’s no way they can both fit, no way.
“East, didn’t you say you could take anything I could dish out? It’s not like you to go back on such promises.” Russia’s voice shakes only the slightest bit as he gives a short thrust in.
Prussia’s arms buckle slightly, almost collapsing. “Fuck, d-don’t call me that. Don’t.”
“Would you like Gilbert better for now? You can’t be called Prussia now, after all.”
Prussia’s face turns furious, throat working frantically to get out something and managing only inarticulate noises of rage and humiliation. He visibly reins himself back, biting his lip, silent.
Russia gives another short thrust, working himself in just the slightest bit more, and every inch more seems impossibly, impossibly tight. Prussia’s hands are tightly fisted in the sheets by his head, and Lithuania focuses on that, can’t look at Prussia. He can hear Russia breathing steadily above the both of them.
Russia grasps Prussia’s hips more tightly, and moves suddenly in a long, smooth thrust until, God, he’s completely inside and oh, it’s too, too much. He doesn’t want this, he doesn’t, but it feels so tight, so hot, and he can’t help but cry out.
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“I-is that all you’ve got, h-huh? You fuck-“ Prussia gasps out tightly, and it’s so wrong to hear that edge of desperation to Prussia’s words.
“I-I am going to move now, East,” Russia rumbles, stroking a hand down Prussia’s spine and letting it come to rest in the dip of his back.
Lithuania can see Prussia’s chest heaving convulsively, his pale skin angrily flushed. “Just-just do it a-already, you bastard.”
The first real thrust seems to drag along every raw nerve in his body. He just can’t seem get any air into his lungs, unable to do anything except gasp and feel his own hips
God, Prussia’s body is so tense, a single, shaking line between them, and god, he was going to break like this, they were going to break him-but Prussia doesn’t break, the bastard, he just keeps on kicking and biting and fighting- and it was tight, so tight, Russia’s cock almost burningly hot against his own, sliding slickly in, every slight movement making him gasp at the sensations breaking over him in waves, skirting the edge of too much.
Prussia’s intermittent grunts were now a steady stream of breathless cursing escaping from between his clenched teeth, his eyes closed where his head hung down, as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up any more. Russia reaches forward, loosely cupping his hand around Prussia’s throat, and draws Prussia’s body against his own, Prussia letting go a hoarse yell as everything-shifts, the heat and friction almost unbearable.
Prussia looks lost, eyes wide open, turning his face into Russia’s neck to try and muffle a low, desperate moan. There’s something mesmerizing about the pink of Prussia’s open mouth that makes Lithuania want to touch him, to slip a finger inside his mouth and feel the slick softness there. But he can’t reach him, can’t tug him away from Russia’s embrace-- can only run his hands over Prussia’s legs, thumbs tracing little circles on the thin skin of his inner thighs, soft and vulnerable.
Russia has a hand wrapped around Prussia’s cock, stroking lightly, Prussia’s hips unconsciously swaying into the loose grip. “You-you are very pretty like this, East. So-open. So pretty,” Russia says, holding Prussia closer to him, an arm bracketing his chest. “I will-take care of you, yes? Yes.” Lithuania has to block out Russia’s soft, breathless whisper, can’t look at Prussia and the fury and resignation etched into each shaking muscle as he thrusts up into Russia’s hand.
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Lithuania feels the tight squeeze of Prussia’s body first, making him gasp and thrust up hard, vaguely registering the sight of Prussia biting his lip tight and coming silently into Russia’s hand, Russia petting Prussia’s side with a low murmur of “good, good,” as Prussia shakes through the aftershocks.
He seems to take a moment to collect himself, his breathing ragged, before roughly pushing himself away from Russia and planting a hand on Lithuania’s chest, bracing his knees wide on the bed and squeezing deliberately around the both of them, still panting harshly.
“Come already, you-ah-bastard,” Prussia’s voice is wrecked, and he’s pushing himself down roughly onto the both of them.
And it’s too, too much, and he just has to-let go.
He can feel Russia thrusting a few more times before stilling and shuddering deeply, letting out a shaky sigh. Russia slumps against Prussia’s back, hands still roving and gently petting. For a moment, the three of them breathe, slowly and shakily.
Prussia starts shifting, his muscles gathering as if trying to tense up again, but his body won’t seem to obey, constantly lapsing back to an exhausted slackness. The movement makes Russia pull back a little, still cradling Prussia, making a soft shushing sound again. Russia pulls a hand back, as if curious, reaching down and tracing the stretched, tight skin around him and Lithuania, making Prussia let out a sharp hiss, his body jerking all at once.
“One-one at a time, yes?” Russia says. Prussia scowls and opens his mouth to make some kind of remark, before closing his mouth and nodding tightly, hands fisted in the sheets and teeth gritted as Russia slips out. Everything feels oversensitive, raw.
Lithuania tries reaching towards Prussia to help brace himself, but Prussia knocks his hands away, pushing himself up slowly and collapsing to Lithuania’s side with a rough breath of air, throwing an arm over his eyes. It’s-odd to see him say nothing.
Russia is the first to move; through the filter of his eyelashes, Lithuania can see him head towards the bathroom, the harsh neon light clicking on for an instant, and the sound of running water trickling sluggishly.
Russia comes out again a little later with a damp towel, now dressed. He feels the bed dip under Russia’s weight again and turns slowly towards the dip, keeping Russia in sight. Russia runs a hand down Prussia’s spine, Prussia jerking away from the touch and letting go a stifled curse at the sudden movement.
“Fuck-off. I’ll clean myself up,” Prussia says. Russia simply shrugs, handing over the towel.
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“Ah, Lithuania, we shall discuss the matter regarding the newest economic plan later, yes?”
He nods stiffly.
“Good, good.” With that, Russia sweeps out of the room, closing the door with a click and leaving the both of them in the dim light.
Lithuania sighs, rolling onto his side. The curtains were closed-ah, that’s why it was so dark. He shifts over, sitting up and tugging open the dingy curtains to the asphalt-grey sky and letting a flat morning light filter into the room. It’s a familiar light, the sort that makes everything seem all too real, harshly stark.
He opens his mouth, wanting to say something- anything- and closes it again. Anything he says right now would be at best, cold comfort, and at worst, a lie. He doesn’t like lying to anyone, these days.
Prussia - East-shifts slowly from his prone position, moving gingerly to sit beside him, overlooking the grey concrete buildings rising up around them like ragged teeth, and laughs hoarsely. “Welcome to the Soviet Bloc, huh?” He passes a hand over his face, not looking at Lithuania. Prussia’s movements are stiff, restrained, as if holding himself together.
He feels so tired.
All Lithuania wants to do is to curl under the covers, to sleep. Instead, he stands up, stepping into his clothes and heading for the small kitchenette to put the percolator on the stove. There’s a crack in the linoleum that he should fix.
He hands Prussia a mug of coffee, sitting down on the bed again. “It’s cold in the morning,” he says, and Prussia’s mouth quirks up.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Prussia says, his voice still rough.
The coffee’s cheap, but it’s hot, the warmth gradually seeping into Lithuania's hands, and Prussia’s body is warm beside his. That, for now, has to be enough.
Reply
WINS.
EVERYTHING.
EVER.
fffffffffffffuck anon. You made it hot and hurting and burning and sad and sexy and goddamn I could drop adjectives forever and it wouldn't express the utter dominating WIN of this fill appropriately.
I am your slave and student for life.
Reply
I loved Liet's POV, the way he doesn't like rough sex but takes strength from Prussia's stoic hedonism (fuck the paradox, he's awesome enough), the subtle hints that gentleness now would break him, the description of Prussia as irrepressibly bold, oh yes, yes that exactly.
This whole thing flirts perfectly on the dubcon line of capitulation=/=consent, which is a fascinating and fucked-up psychological place to write about, and I love how well you pulled it off.
And then, fuck, Russia calling Prussia East, and Prussia shifting between defiance and begging, just ow, oh Prussia.
And the sensations from the point of view of one of the DPers instead of Prussia were fucking hot. unf.
And Russia was huge and inscrutable and scary and hot, so well done.
I think the end was my favorite though, where you just keep hammering home at the damaged-not-broken coping of Prussia and Lithuania both, with Russia looming callously around, the description of the cold and the floor and the warmth at the end, and the ache-okay-ache of it, oh anon, I love this. I'm so, so, so glad you filled it too.
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Thank you author!anon, this was awesome
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