For Kuyako, a reviewer that wanted a Dark!RussiaxAmerica one shot. (I'm assuming female, if not, just sub out the steamy bits for boy parts), I am not that great at writing noncon. This got really graphic though.
"Oh could you do a one shot with dark!Russia noncon where America accidentally agrees to became one with him in front of world meeting plz?"
***WARNING***
Rated M. For rape. I am not picking on Russia, nor Russians. This author does not condone rape, the use of force, violence, or assault.
I own nothing.
OoOoOo
Russia wondered how long it would take for America to understand that he wasn't a country to be messed with.
She seemed oblivious so her obvious perusal of her. His violet eyes watched her, reveling in the swell of dark desire that permeated his senses. He could almost smell her from here. The scent that clung to her skin, making his mouth water with the desire to tear her apart.
He had forgotten long ago if it was a literal or a metaphorical sense.
"What are your plans for dinner?" Australia asked politely.
America shrugged casually. "Dunno. I was thinking about some fish and chips."
She flashed him an exaggerated wink.
"So England will pay?" Australia rebutted slyly.
"Oh you know me so well," she replied with a roughish smile.
It wasn't notoriety he wanted, nor power. Russia had both and he did not need some blonde female to get that. Her nation irritated him greatly for constantly casting aspersions on his own. America, the embodiment of her nation, did not appear to mind him over much.
Many times, it felt as if she were acting to keep herself on her high horse. Playing the hero. His lips twisted in distaste, a bitter tang on his tongue at the thought. She was very simple to figure out, and needlessly ignorant.
He despised her in the same breath that he wanted to crush her against him and make them one. His violet eyes narrowed as America laughed freely with Australia.
They did not fear her, for her stupidity or her loud-mouthed opinions. However, they still rushed to her for aid and trusted her even when she did interfere. Even though they claimed not too. America grinned and looked right through him as she scanned the room.
That was the part that gnawed at him night after night. That she no longer took him seriously. He was not just a wounded dog barking in the night.
He'd been patient. He'd been gracious. Russia had bided his time, but he would not keep himself in check much longer.
So he had resolved to ask her today, to become one with him.
He pushed back from his seat and approached the blonde who was still laughing with Australia.
"Do you wish to join me?" He asked, peering down at her with his same absent smile.
America looked up at him in surprise. She had not expected to see Russia anywhere near her.
It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but she knew that relations between them were already lukewarm at best. Her blue gaze darted around to see some of the other nations watching them carefully. Some even paused in their dinner plans.
Dinner. Yes. She could go to dinner with him. He was asking her, after all, wasn't he?
One little meal. That is all it would take to diffuse some of the lingering tension.
America smiled, eyes crinkling happily in the corners. "I would love to join you," she said with her trade mark loudness.
The curiosity of the other nations seemed to be appeased, for when violence and bloodshed did not follow, they left chatting in various pairs or groups. Clueless as to what would happen only an hour later, America merrily collected her things, and walked with Russia.
She missed the look of unholy delight that spread across his features.
OoOoOo
He drug her limp body to the bed, tossing her on it non-too gently. Russia wasted no time in stripping her. He had been forced to subdue her the good old fashion way of a strong blow to the back of the head. America would be out for a while, but he needed that time.
Her body was soft and lush. He felt inflamed by it nearly instantly. He ran his hands over her shoulders, and thighs. His hand could span her waist. She was a rather delicate thing when he really looked at her.
Russia restrained her arms and legs to the bed. He knew of America's impressive strength, but he had things that would keep her advantage in check. He sat on the bed when his task was completed, and waited patiently.
It took over an hour for her to come to her senses. The blonde stirred slowly, clearly in pain. Russia relished the expression on her face. The curiosity and fear that stole over her face when she opened her eyes to see an unknown room all around her.
Her eyes immediately noticed him.
"What the fuck," she snarled at him. She tried to lunge for him, but it was futile. When she jerked forward and nothing happened, America noticed the restraints.
And her nakedness.
Russia giggled.
"Did you have a good rest, little Amerika?"
Her features pinched into a look of utter rage.
"You let me go this instant and I won't beat your ass into oblivion." She threatened, and he knew she meant it.
How amusing his little flower was.
"Let you go?" He asked in mock innocence. "I cannot do that."
"So sick son of a bitch," she hissed as she trembled in embarrassment. Her face was flushed a wonderful hue of red. "Do you get your rocks off on kidnapping people?"
He titled his head and pretended to actually ponder her words. His violet eyes narrowed on her face in a sinister manner.
"Oh but Amerika," he said with dark humor, "you agreed to join me."
Her blue eyes, so expressive, were wide with horror. She renewed her efforts to struggle. Russia laughed to himself at her plight. He took his scarf and wrapped it around her head, shoving it into her mouth as he pulled tightly.
She tried to snarl and bite, but it was no use. He gagged her efficiently, and thought the color of his scarf went nicely with her eyes.
He picked up a single red rose from his nightstand. He had prepared for America to be with him today.
He had honestly thought it would take a bit more coaxing than this, but he was not one to squander a present. His teeth gleamed in the dying sunlight that streamed through the windows. America likely cursed him in every language she knew. The thought pleased him.
He traced the tip of the rose up her stomach to the valley of her breasts. She was glaring at him, sharp and angry breaths escaped from her nose. Russia hummed a well known love song from his country, as he traced the rose up to one breast, circling her nipple and then to the other.
She tried to move her body away from him or press back into the mattress. However, she was unable to get away from the sensation of the rose on her skin. Russia smiled and traced a path up her neck, to her cheeks. Which were stained with her fury and fear.
The contrasting reds were simply delightful. Were he more inclined to paint, he would capture this moment to remember all his days.
He set the rose back down on the nightstand, and took off his coat. Her blue eyes widened and America tried to look elsewhere as she continued to swear at him though she was unintelligible. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and undid his belt. America tried to yank against the restraints again.
Soon, he stood before her naked, with lust and madness in his gaze.
Her back arched as she tried to bow off the bed to get free. It did nothing more than push her attractive breasts closer for him to see.
What an eager little thing his America was... if he had known she would agree so easily, he would have asked her years ago.
So much wasted time. A pity really.
"Sunflower," he crooned softly.
She tried to spit something at him, but the gag would not let her do much more than give muffled shouts. Such music to his ears. What pretty little sounds she made when she tried to please him.
Because America wanted to join with him, and that it all that mattered now.
She would become one with Russia. She'd said so in front of the whole world.
What a good little pet he had.
Cruel fingers bit into her thighs and forced them further apart. America tried to kick and lash out, but she was restrained too well for that. Her blue eyes widened and her lips trembled in fear around the spit-soaked cloth.
Perfection.
He loved looking at the fear in her eyes, the concern for what they both knew was about to happen. Amerika... well... she was going to be his now. Forever and ever. No one would take her away from Russia. He'd kill them several times over for even thinking of trying.
His fingers pressed roughly against her dry entrance. Oh but that simply would not do! He needed her to be a sopping wet mess, so he could take her the way he wanted to. To degrade her and make this just that much more painful on her.
Russia hummed with excitement as he grabbed some lubrication out of his coat pocket. He had anticipated that America might resist him in this. The tiniest bit, but that was likely just her shyness getting the best of her. He laughed with a large smile on his face. His violet eyes bore into her misty blue ones.
Oh! Perhaps she was would cry! His poor little sunflower was just trying to get him all worked up. She was a tempting little thing. He flipped the cap and coated his fingers. Gently spreading the cool liquid, as he reached toward her again.
She closed her eyes and flinched at his slow, probing invasion. Russia nipped at her thigh, leaving a red mark. America kept her eyes closed and he could tell she was trying to pull herself away from the situation. Her arms yanked hard on her restraints, but it was all in vain.
He could almost hear her crying 'stop'.
All she managed were muffled screams of anger and shame. America tried to squirm her hips away from him to no avail. He wriggled his fingers inside, coating her insides with the slimy substance which smelled vaguely of strawberries and mint.
It reminded him of her fields which he had visited so very long ago. He licked a path up her thigh as his fingers plundered her core. America's crystalline tears of sorrow pooled and fell from her eyes. Silent, unlike her chocking cries.
His other hand pushed down on her other leg when she tried to draw them up, however her restraints kept her from doing much more than trembling as his thick fingers rubbed her velvety muscle. America slammed her head to the side, making a soft thud against the pillow.
The silken sheets were cool against Russia's skin. He would take her on silk, not cotton. His little flower deserved the best. This was not like the others. He lowered his mouth to her clitoris and swept his tongue across it.
America reacted as if he'd struck her with a livewire. She sobbed and tried to fight her shackles again. Russia watched her with hooded eyes, his gleeful delight etched in his features.
"We will become one, Da?"
He stroked his manhood. The thick shaft seemed to pulsate with his eagerness to be inside the female nation. He licked her again, sucking gently at her clitoris as America screeched at him, whimpering and snarling through the cloth gag.
He straightened to kneel between her opened legs. She tried to draw them up again, only to be stopped by both the restraints and his hand on her stomach.
He pressed the blunt head of his cock, nearly sighing as it rubbed along the inside of her thighs. He pushed forward and allowed the head to pry into her folds and then bump against her pulsing lips. She was warm and wet, but he could tell by the tears on her face and her thrashing that she was far from willing.
Except that she had agreed to this. Secretly, he knew she wanted to be joined with him. She had agreed in front of the other nations after all. She had sought to end this silly game they played. Russia enjoyed this sort of game far more than their petty squabbles and threats.
He grasped her hips and lifted her hips upward slightly. He drove forward, pushing his hard and throbbing prick deeper into her passage. America tried to resist, to squirm and he pulled her to impale her fully with a cry of triumph.
America's tight channel gripped him so sweetly, and he savored the feel of it as tears cascaded down her cheeks. She was openly sobbing now, and he rocked his hips against her gently. He withdrew an inch or two only to thrust into her deeper. She moaned in shame and anger beneath him.
Delightful. Everything about her was so delightful. Russia allowed a slight laugh to escape him as he leaned down and suckled at an exposed nipple. He bathed it with his rough tongue, enjoying the way it pebbled under his treatment.
He savagely reentered her body over and over again, all the while he whispered provocative and dirty things in his native tongue. America closed her eyes, trying to drown him out. He could see she was actually biting her gag, as if it would offer her some piece.
Russia chuckled darkly. Let her feel every inch of him. Let her know how long he'd been denied joining them together. He watched Nantucket bounce as he enjoyed her. He pawed at her breasts and nipped sharply at her neck with his teeth.
He did not want to do his new nation any irreparable harm. Oh no. Part of his twisted affection for America would have been classified as love by some. Ones like him would understand.
He ravaged her vigorously, enough to keep those pretty teeth biting against the gag as he groaned with pleasure. Her tight heat seemed to draw him in over and over, though she tried to evade his hands.
He plunged into her until his hips were steadily rocking and he was almost lifting her off the bed with each thrust. His face was smiling as he felt his end approaching. His seed would flood her womb, claiming her as his. It would make them one. His ownership over he would be complete. He bit at her shoulder and America shouted angrily as she sobbed.
Finally, he reached that pinnacle, and spent himself in her lush body. America trembled and keened sadly under him. He kissed her neck lazily. His temples sweat slicked as he pushed some of her hair out of her eyes.
America was pale and her eyes had a distant but dull look to them. Russia chuckled happily, slightly winded from the exercise as he loosened her restraints. Her hand and feet remained unmoving.
America was a trembling mess, and small splotches of blood stained the silk sheets. Russia did not mind in the slightest.
"Clean me up," he demanded with a sing-song note to his words.
Her red-rimmed blue eyes looked downward, as she sniffed back more tears. They were joined now, he could feel it. She could no longer deny him.
She winced as she sat upward, and her lower lip quivered.
"Да , сэр," She whispered and crawled toward him, still trying to cover her nakedness.
His darker nature enjoyed the sight she presented. Slightly broken, defiled by his seed, but his all the same. Her lips were red, and the corners of her mouth were nearly rubbed raw. He fisted a hand in her hair as her head neared his crotch.
The first light touch of her tongue on him sent a shiver up his spine. His flaccid manhood twitched as it stirred under her tongue.
He was very content with his sunflower. She preformed better than he would have hoped. Her mouth took him in, and he knew she would be able to taste herself on him. It gave him a thrill of dominance at her plight.
"Look at me," he said gutturally.
Her blue eyes were on him in an instant as he rocked himself into the moist heat of her mouth. He felt himself swelling, hardening again to the point where he would take her once more.
He shoved her back carelessly, noting with satisfaction the 'pop'ing sound that followed when he broke the seal of her lips around his shaft.
Her legs splayed as she fell upon the bed once more. Russia smirked and drug her toward his hips. He sunk his stiff member into her with a sigh of relief as she cried out in pain. His thickness caused her to weep once more, and he hissed his delight in her ear. Her abused folds accepted him without choice. She was still wet from his previous climax.
Claimed. That is how he saw her. Claimed and his for the taking.
And he would take her over and over again. His skin burned for the touch of hers. HIs ears craved the sound of her cries and whimpers of distress. Russia greedily drank in the sight of her, filled with his cock. America tried to cover her face, but he slapped her hands away.
He continued to take her well into the night. He emptied himself into one last time before drawing her close and dragging a sheet up over them. The poor girl was barely even conscious as he praised her, and rubbed her lower back softly.
Tomorrow he would take her home and chain her up again.
Where she could never escape.
Violet eyes watched her with a mad glow to them, and a power she would not be able to fight. She had become one with him, and he would keep them joined forever.
Even if it ended up killing her.
oOoOo
Okay, no more noncon for a while. I am going back to happy things.
Thanks for reading!