You knocked on Russia’s door as you stood out in the near-blizzard, frowning the entire time. What could Russia possibly want from you this time? Russia answered the door immediately with his childish smile plastered onto his face. “Ah, Privet ____, please come in!” he invited. You returned his cheerful greeting with a cold stare as you walked in. “H-h-hello, ____,” the trembling Baltics stammered as you passed them.
You acknowledged them with a nod as you welcomed yourself to a comfortable chair. You crossed your legs and stared at Russia. “Why’d you tell me to come over?” you demanded. Russia, still smiling, walked over and sat in a chair next to you. “I wanted to speak with you,” he said simply. Your face remained straight. “About what?” Russia, even though he had only just sat down, stood up and pulled you out of your chair.
“Come with me,” he said, dragging you into a room and closing the door. “Unhand me sunflower-head!” you ordered, slapping his hand away. Russia’s smile faded in an instant, and his face darkened. “Let’s talk,” he said, his voice slicked with poison. It made you just a tad bit nervous, but you paid him no heed. “If you want to talk, let’s talk. Otherwise, I’m leaving.” You shot him a glare. Russia’s gaze had become colder.
Suddenly, without warning, he lashed out at you, grabbing your arm and throwing you onto the bed. You widened your eyes and tried to get up, but the taller country was already on you, pinning your wrists to your sides and then kissing you, roughly. You were so shocked you couldn’t move. You felt many emotions swell up inside you as he kissed you. Hate, anger, and also… happiness? Hell no, you hated Russia.
Russia pulled away and smiled his childish smile. “You like it, da?” he asked. You glared daggers at him. “What do you think?” you spat at him. “I think you like it.” With that said, Russia kissed you again, a little softer. You still hated him. You attempted to shove him off you, but he was too strong for you. Damn. When Russia pulled away, his face was still as stone. “Why you try to push me away?” Russia asked. “Because I hate you,” you growled. “You know damn well that I hate you!” “And I like you, ____,” he replied. “Get the hell away from me!”
Russia’s face got darker. “I always get my way ____,” he said coldly. “Not this time,” you spat. Then he did something he had never done to you before: he slapped you. You shook a little. “You actually slapped me…” you muttered in shock. You felt Russia’s glare burning into your eyes; it was unnerving. Was this… fear? You had never been afraid of anything, not even Russia.
And yet, Russia was scaring you. Damnit. “Bastard…” You forced out. You would not lose your dignity. “You are still so stubborn, da…” Russia said calmly, voice like ice. “Yeah, what are you going to do about it?” “I will have you, no matter what. You don’t have a choice in the matter.” You sent your iciest glares at him. But he didn’t even flinch.
You felt a pain on your head, and you blacked out.
--
You woke up slowly on a cold floor. You tried to move, but found that your arms and neck had chains on them, which were connected to the wall. You decided not to struggle; they were chains. You would need super strength to break them. You looked around and examined your surroundings. By the looks of it, you were in a dungeon or prison of a sort. Hell no, you were _____!
You do not become a prisoner, you are not helpless--- you say that, but… look at you now. As you sat there feeling miserable and, for the first time in your life, vulnerable, you heard heavy footsteps coming from above. Sounds like the bastard who captured me is coming down, you thought to yourself as the footsteps got closer. When they finally stopped, you looked up to come face-to-face with Russia.
“I knew it was you,” you said. No response. “You’re a bastard, you know that? Kidnapping a woman like this--” Slap! Russia’s gloved hand left a red mark on your cheek. “Silence,” he stated, his voice iced over with venom. You felt your body quiver; tears wanted to come, but you refused to let them. Russia infuriated you to no end.
When you got out of here, you were going to strangle him until he begged for mercy. The taller country bent down to eye-level with you, staring into your eyes. The violet color flashed a sign of.. something. Russia smiled, so childish and evil you tried to back away.
It finally hit you: you was really, truly helpless here. You were just a woman who couldn‘t save herself. Russia could do anything to you, and it stung your pride more than anything. “Are you scared?” Russia’s voice brought you back to reality. You bowed your head to stare at the floor, letting your hair fall into your face. “What will you do if I don’t answer?” For an answer, you felt a flash of pain on your shoulder.
You looked and saw that it was bleeding. You saw a hand slip around your waist and another come around your neck and hold your chin softly. Russia pulled you close to his chest and rested his head on your wounded shoulder, causing you to wince. “I’ll get an answer out of you,” he breathed into your ear, his hot breath on your cheek. You felt your cheeks heat up. They were red, you knew it. But why? You hated Russia.
Russia pulled you closer, and your face got hotter. No man had dared to get this close to you, especially the one’s that you hated. Yet, here was the one you hated the most, holding you close after putting you in chains and then whipping you. I heard a small sniffling sound behind me. You dared not say anything, but you wondered… was Russia crying? Was he really just lonely?
You never said these questions aloud, fearing that Russia would just slap and whip you. Wait a second, were you feeling sorry for him? Hah, yeah right. Serves the bastard right for all he’s done. Wait… you felt wetness on your shoulder. He really was crying. You now felt a little guilty, knowing that Russia was hurting inside. You didn’t say anything though, knowing that Russia could snap at any second, beat you till’ you breathed no more.
So instead of struggling like you had been, you relaxed a little. You still hated Russia, but maybe if you held still long enough he would let you go. Unfortunately, your plan backfired. Russia let go of you and moved to face the front of you. “You’re planning an escape, are you not?” he asked. You stared right back at him. “No.” Russia saw through your lie and slapped you again.
“I don’t like being lied to.” Damnit, at this rate you was going to break. No. You couldn‘t. You would not lose to him. You then smiled for an odd reason. “I’ll make a deal with you, Russia. Let me go. In return, I’ll…” You lost your smile and trailed off, reconsidering your idea. It might work, but… no. No, you couldn’t do it. Russia raised his whip in a threatening manner. “What?” he asked. You swallowed.
“I’ll… become one with you.” Russia lowered his whip, considering the idea. “Become one?” “I won’t say it again.” “Hmm… no.” You felt like dying right then and there. If he wouldn’t do that, then how were you going to get out of here? Russia cupped your face in his hands and kissed you for 3rd time. This time, as reluctant as you were, you complied with his demand, and relaxed.
This was just pretend. It was most likely the only way to get out of here. When Russia pulled away, he smiled. “But I’ll take the first half of your offer.” Your jaw almost dropped to the floor. He was going to--hell no!! Russia unchained you but kept a too-tight grip on your wrist as he dragged you to your doom (also known as his room). He gently laid you down on his bed.
You were glad to be out of the chains but damnit, you didn’t want this! But before you could protest, Russia was on top of you, pinning your wrists onto the bed, preventing you from struggling. “You see?” he said, nodding towards your pinned hands. “You are helpless.” The words stung like the icy wind. He was right. That bastard was right. And it pissed you off like no tomorrow.
You glared and glared until you could glare no more. It was exhausting, trying to fight someone you couldn’t win against. It was so humiliating. You snapped out of your train of thought when you felt a hand under your sweater and a face buried into your neck. “Russia…” you said quietly. You got no answer, just silence as you saw your clothes come off, sweater going first.
You didn’t fight him; you had given up. He had broken you. Russia had squashed your personality and thrown it into the dust. The strong-willed, stubborn, hard-headed woman you were was gone. You closed your eyes and tried to block out the feeling of being touched and kissed everywhere. Eventually, you drifted off into nothingness, where you felt, heard, and saw nothing. Nothing at all.
When you next opened your eyes, you were sore in there, and Russia was clinging to your arm, sleeping, looking innocent. Instead of moving and trying to escape, you laid on the bed. You could be here for a while, maybe forever. Best stay on the good side of the Russian who slept beside you.