Sunday, April 15, 2012

A Russia Lemon -- For Diplomacy's Sake

Character: Russia

Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia

OC: Alexa, Represents Puerto Rico

Inspiration: Russia's violence ;D

Russian sleepovers weren't exactly normal.  Because of this, they didn't exactly happen regularly.  When they did occur, it was simply because Alexa was playing diplomat (or being forced to), and Russia was being a good host to the visiting country.  Alexa's boss was always there, as well as various others from the Puerto Rican commonwealth.  Therefore, Alexa was always directed to her room and there was little to no contact with the actual Ivan Braginski.  (Save for dinner and political ventures, which were rather sordid affairs anyhow.)

But this time, things were slightly different.  Yes, Alexa was once again playing diplomat and Russia host.  Yes, Russia had shown Alexa to her room and had left it at that.  But Alexa felt different from the moment she was let inside Ivan's large mansion, alone and without her boss for the first time.  There was a certain tang to the air -- a strange tension around Russia's eyes when they locked with hers.  It was almost as though he was keeping a secret…like he knew something she didn't, and it amused him.

She felt it again during dinner, but it was somehow altered.  The three neighboring countries that Russia also housed were casting her weird, nervous glances that made her uneasy.  It was like they all knew something she didn't; like they were all part of some dark secret.

She didn't think much of it after dinner was over and they retired to the evening sitting room.  Russia had always been a bit odd to her -- somehow rationed off, as though his heart and mind and soul weren't large enough to be spread across the entirety of his country.  She felt a little sorry for him, actually.  Though his smiles were frequent and sent nerve wracking shivers down her spine, Alexa was sure there was something warm that flickered behind the cold depths.

She fell asleep that night feeling apprehensive but not uncomfortable.  Her room was large and her bed larger, with ample pillows and thick, warm blankets that protected her from the frigid winter air.  She dreamt a dreamless sleep, which was strangely deep and lurid, and didn't awake until the sun had already rose significantly in the sky and was blinding her through the flimsy curtains of the room.

Upon opening her eyes, Alexa felt her apprehension increase.  It seemed to have stayed with her through the night and only strengthened as the time went by.  After attempting to sit up, she realized why she felt this way.  It had something to do with the fact that her wrists were tied to the bedpost.

A sharp pang of some unfamiliar emotion passed through her.  She wanted to think it was fear, but her clouded mind proved her body wrong as she writhed in excitement.  The person who had done this was eyeing her from across the room, flashes of amethyst holding her down better than any man made ties.

For a moment, the room was bathed in wary silence.  Alexa watched him curiously, not in the fear she thought she should feel.  Ivan's eyes, however, had taken a dangerous shine, and he was staring at her like she was prey.  It was all very exhilarating.

"You had a nice night, da?" his smile widened in child-like innocence, but there was really nothing innocent about the way his eyes leered at her.

She wriggled, suddenly all too aware of the thin shift she was wearing beneath the covers.  Shrugging lightly, Alexa tried not to allow her interest to show.  "Very nice, thank you.  Do you always treat your guests with such familiarity before breakfast?"

His lips twitched upward again, and his smile enforced dimples to appear on his cheeks.  In a fleeting moment, Alexa decided that he was cute when he smiled like that.

"Only the ones I like," he revealed, and then suddenly pushed off of the desk he had been leaning on. 

The tension was so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, but it surprisingly dispersed with every step he took toward her.  For the life of her, Alexa couldn't understand the workings of her own mind.  Did she want this or not?  Her mind told her no, but her body betrayed her.

Russia seemed to know this very well, for he didn't falter in his advance.  When he was standing beside the bed, he smirked a rather vivid smirk and tilted his head to the side.  "You must be hot, da?  You have a lot of blankets."

She didn't respond.  Her eyes followed his movements as his hand slid toward her and curled around the edges of the thick covers.  At the last moment, he looked at her and their eyes connected.  Whatever he saw in them he must have liked, because then he was pushing the blankets away.

Immediately, a rush of cold air hit her body and she inhaled sharply.  She could feel his eyes on her, roaming her form and taking in the silky nightgown she wore.  She was afraid to open her eyes, actually -- finally, the fear had come! -- but her body once again became a traitor.  Slowly, her eyes slid open and locked onto lilac orbs.

This time, there was no leer in them.  In fact, a strange sort of reverence pulled his emotions away.  She saw him swallow thickly and Alexa was suddenly overcome with the desire to feel him around her, inside her, above her.

The intensity of the feeling frightened her as she felt her resolve tremble.  A soft, lingering touch that could only be his hand sent her mind spiraling back into the present, but when she opened her eyes, her world was cloudy and strange.

"What have you done to me?" she wondered, furrowing her brow in confusion.  He raised his own eyebrows and tilted his head to the side, clearly not on the same page as her.  Surely, the fog that seemed to drift around them was not of her own making.  Her mind was so baffled that she hardly felt him reach up and free her hands from the leather binds.  Her fingers slunk down to clutch at the front of his shirt.

His mouth curled upward and he leaned forward, one knee depressing the mattress.  "I can only tell you what I'm going to do with you, da?"  And then his hand moved upward to brush over her cheek and his mouth was alighting on hers, gentle at first before shedding any sense of peace.

The passion burned her, scorching through her veins and making her gasp aloud.  She wanted to say that she hated the intensity of it, but every denial of hers to not return to kiss enforced a deeper longing in her heart, and a deeper excitement.

Her fingers reached up unwillingly to grip at his hair, and his face was brought closer than she meant to bring it.  Alexa was no longer in control of her own body, now.  Her emotions and the crazed mentality of the moment had stole her own willpower.

She didn't feel the whole of his weight on the mattress, but somehow, he must have crawled up onto it.  He was now hovering over her flushed body with a deadly spark in his eyes.  The sight of it exhilarated her and left her lower half pounding in want.

"Look at what you've done to me," he chuckled: a childish sound that did not match the obvious bulge of his pants.  He looked strange, sitting in the position he was in, but there was something about the dominance he was clearly exhibiting that made her heart race.

With a sudden blush, Alexa realized that Russia was staring at her body once more.  In the heat of their kiss, her already short nightgown had ridden up her thighs.  She wriggled slightly, trying to push it back down to preserve some modesty.  (Even though they both knew it would be pointless in the end.)

She heard him chuckle again and she glanced up.  She was washed away by the brightness in his purple eyes.  "I would like to fuck you," he admitted, and the casualness of his words made her raise an eyebrow.  (And alright, she blushed a little too.) 

Don't say something stupid, she told herself.  But it didn't really matter, because Ivan was then leaning over her, one hand toying with the ribbons that tied the nightgown together, and he was wondering, "Would you like me to?"

And she supposed her answer was plain enough, but at least it got the message across.  (The message that she wouldn't be able to leave his country without this; that she wouldn't be able to wear this nightgown again because it would remind her of this.)  Her fingers grabbed onto the front of his shirt and she pulled him down, throwing her lips against his in a kiss that conveyed all her anxiety, confusion, and desire.

It was his turn to be surprised by the intensity of her lips, but he was a lot faster to react to it than she'd been.  He threw himself into the kiss, the passion, and the ecstasy; towered over her like it was his rightful place in the world; allowed his hands to rove her body like he owned it, and in that moment, he pretty much did.  He was the one making her moan, he was the one making her body arch and move in ways it never had before. 

His touch shocked her into a submission Alexa rarely felt.  But rather than make her feel caged and confined, it allured her and drew her out of herself. 

The moment felt endless.  Her body felt on fire before her clothes had even been wrestled off, and when they were -- when Ivan's rough hands pulled the flimsy fabric down her smooth shoulders and over her thighs -- she felt as though she couldn't even breath properly.  So she stopped trying.

It wasn't until he had begun the annoying process of dealing with his own pants that Alexa realized just what was happening.  She was suddenly struck with a strange sort of fear.  No, she wasn't afraid of the sex, but rather of what they would be when it was all over and done.  Her worries weren't put to rest until his rock hard member was in full sight and her legs were being pulled apart.

To her surprise, Ivan didn't just take her like she thought he would.  Instead, he stared at her with those not-so-innocent violet eyes and smiled widely.  "I will take you now, da?"  And then he was pushing himself into her and she was gasping aloud at the girth of him.

He was undoubtedly the biggest she'd ever had.  By the time he had stuffed his entire length into her, he was already touching places that no man had ever reached before.  It was an incoherent, bruising, and yet amazing moment.

She didn't expect him to give her time to get used to him, and he didn't.  He just pulled her hips against him and then slid one of her creamy legs over his shoulder.  And then, he was practically splitting her in half as he began to move, and it was as painful as it was exhilarating.

"Oh, God!" she wanted to scream, but her throat was closing up and she couldn't do more than make little breathless noises.  Russia didn't seem to care, though.  In fact, she doubted he could hear her at all.  He seemed to be in another world entirely.

She could hardly muster her strength enough to wrap her arms around him, and it didn't little good in the end anyway.  He was all but ramming her into the mattress, giving her zero room to retaliate.  Not that she would have been able to find the willpower to anyway.

It took her what seemed like ages to get used to his massive size, and then an indescribably sense of pleasure washed over her and took her breath away again.  She suddenly wanted him to take her harder, to move into her faster, to push her to her limits because she couldn't believe it felt this good.

She tried to tell him, but her words only contorted into pleading, desperate moans.  The sound of them seemed to get her message across, however, because Ivan was suddenly doing exactly what she'd wanted: pummeling her into the bed with a force to be reckoned with.

And she was spasmodically loosing herself with every thrust he gave.  Every time he dipped his body against hers as their hips met made her scream; every rock solid twitch of his manhood as it delved ever deeper inside of her made her reach out to him; every twist and shout and grunt that sprang between them had her on edge; falling, stumbling into a ecstatic bliss that absolutely dulled every one of her senses except that of touch.

He followed as she fell, strong arms keeping her grounded to her only taste of reality.  She didn't think he could go any harder, but he was suddenly doing just that: keeping her utterly locked to the mattress as he took her urgently. 

And then, just as quickly as she had waken to find herself tied, they were tripping back into the world, wondering if it had been minutes or hours since the morning sun had first found them.

She wilted, back falling from it's arch as she snuggled into the pillows around her head.  He slid out of her and did the same, running a hand up her body in a last minute admiration before it slipped around her waist and snatched her close.

She stared at him questioningly, in a curious manner that made him raise an eyebrow.  When she realized that he probably couldn't read her mind, Alexa hummed, "This was a good diplomatic visit, I think."  And then gave him a smirk that made his heart -- which, before, he had thought was nonexistent -- flutter in his chest.



  1. While I absolutely love this, I truly do, I'm a total Russia Fan...
    I would like to know HOW she grabbed onto him and such if her wrists were tied to the bedposts...?

    1. Oh mai~ Thank you for pointing that out XD I fixed it for you (I should really get a beta...-_-)

  2. This may be a wee bit of a strange question,but could you make a Russia fanfic for me?i would love you FOREVER if you could :D Russia is incredible.adorable,yet psychotic.sweet,yet fearsome.....I would give my right arm just to have you make me a fanfic xD
    Consider it ^_^
    Asta La Pasta!!!:)

  3. -___________- every girl likes their name with the letter oc is named anya.......i suggest you should stay way from him.......hes mine

    1. No Russia mine mine !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    2. Technically Russia belongs to the creator of Hetalia.


  5. This was very, very real considering my nickname to my friends is I love Ivan ^\\\^

  6. Can you make a Russia baby daddy story one day please? :3 My perception of him is that he'd make a loving and caring (albeit very protective and kinda strict) father.

  7. It's been years since I made this request and I still come back to read it every one in a while :3c it's just so great!