Russia x Reader

Slight warning: Strong language, gore, and I dis America. A lot. _{Fuck I hate that whiney little bastard...}


~


"Are you listening to me?" your boss asked impatiently.

You doodled in your notebook, "No, actually. You're quite boring."

"_____, you have to be prepared for this. You're still young..." And he droned on and on. You just stared out the window watching the snow start to fall. Frowning, you watched it collect on the ground. Snow was alright, but you hated the cold.

Your lessons had been hell today. Sure, you were still a new country, but all the strategy and tips they were trying to force down your throat were fucking annoying. After feeling bad enough that your mother died giving birth to you, they still all jumped up and tried to make you as strong and smart as her once more. You knew that was how things worked, countries came and went, different reincarnations of each other, but you were human. You supposed you were relatively strong. Pretty big too. But all of the harassment from your boss and other tutors was putting you at you wits end. You were about to break, and all you wanted was a friend, someone that understood. Sure, you had befriended other nations, just like you were told. But England was fucking crazy, and Canada was so shy you could barely talk to him without him blushing.

CUE WIND CHIME FLASHBACK TRANSITION THINGY

You were peeved at your boss, again, and not looking where you stomped as you checked your phone. Running into a man's chest as he had been looking down as well, you fell backwards and he toppled over onto you.

Both of you immediately started apologizing, but you drowned out his quiet voice. He had you pinned to the ground, and didn't seem to notice. "C-Can we get up now?" you asked, blushing.

His frantic eyes widened and he shot back. "I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"It's alright." you assured him.

First he looked surprised and rather pleased, but then he deflated, "You just think I'm America, don't you?"

"Who?" you asked innocently. He just looked at you with his bright blue eyes, stunned. Then you noticed the odd rectangular sticker on his forehead. Stepping forward you peeled it off. "What's this?"

"O-Oh, that must have been why America hit me..." he trailed off.

You frowned, "Why would anyone hit you?"

He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck, "I guess you really don't know America. We're twins."

"Oh!" you said, finally placing the red maple leaf tattoo now exposed, "You must be Canada! I'm _____, it's nice to meet you." You grinned at him, remembering the shy nation your boss had informed you about when you'd asked. It had said "Made in Canada" on your maple syrup, and you had wanted your boss to quit talking about foreign diplomacy. Extending a hand for him to shake, you waited for him to warm up to you.

So quietly you could barely hear, he whispered, "You know me? And not my brother?" You nodded. He grabbed your hand and pulled you to him, hugging you viciously.

You hugged the poor guy back. He must have gotten mistaken as his twin a lot. And your friendship only blossomed from there.

AND BACK TO NORMAL....

You stood quickly, startling your boss, "_____, what are you doing-"

"I'm going for a walk. Don't wait up, old man." you said, sick of all of the shit he was force feeding you. You grabbed your coat.

Ignoring his frustrated calls and hearing his stubby little footsteps you walked on. Your quick, calm stride left the old fellow in the dust before too long. Throwing open the doors, you tightened your jacket around you, hugging your arms to your chest.

Suddenly you came to the edge of the last town of your country. All you wanted was to escape, so you just kept walking up to the tree line. You told yourself you wouldn't go too far into the woods, and entered cautiously. It started to snow more heavily, and you tried to make your way back. But things started to look so different, now that they were covered entirely in deep snow. You had never been outside your country before, and you were getting cold. Wrapping your coat around you, you decided to just walk as straight as you could, and see where you ended up. Momentarily you thought of how furious and scared your boss might be, but the cold wiped away any worries you had about other people putting deep rooted fear in your heart instead. It was fear that you might not make it back.

You emerged into an open field, where you could see a figure. "Hey, aren't you cold out here?" you asked him.

"Da, I suppose." he said rather quietly, considering the storm building up around you.

You stumbled forward, towards the man a few steps, before you gave up trudging through the heavy snow, "Can you point me back towards town?" There was more than a foot of snow on the ground, and it was slowly saturating your jeans, chilling you viciously along with the heavy wet flakes that melted on your jacket.

"It's a long way off that way." he told you, pointing directly back the way you had come. Shit, you thought to yourself. "Are you the new country?" the man asked.

You frowned, "Yes. Who are you?"

"Russia." he said to you, and immediately you thought of everything that symbolized. This was the walking personification of the massive country of Russia.

"So you're Russia..." Eyes wide you continued, "My name is _____." Sure, you had heard the rumors, but they didn't really bother you too much. Everyone has a dark side. And anyone who had experienced what he had sort of had a right to be a little broken.

Russia was just surprised you hadn't run away, much less stayed and introduced yourself. "You can call me Ivan." You've earned it. he thought. You smiled, feeling yourself getting lightheaded. Suddenly your legs buckled, and you sunk to your knees. "Are you alright?" he asked, sounding a little worried.

You thought about Ivan's past and figured he wouldn't help you. "I don't think so." you told him, and you heard him making his way over to you. The storm swirled around you, making your thoughts fuzzy.

Ivan picked you up, feeling how soaked your pants were he wasn't surprised you were in such a state especially since you were headed the in wrong direction.

You stared up into his comforting face, a last ditch effort to save yourself. "Help-"

Ivan looked down at you, thinking you were taking your last moments of consciousness to call out for someone to save you from him. Ready to put you down and let you die, he heard you finish, "Pl-Please help me, Ivan." You shivered lightly, almost unable to move. Seeing his face flicker in your line of vision, you became quite scared and sought refuge in the thick fabric covering his chest.

His eyes widened. You were trusting him with your life. "Da." he said quietly, starting to take off his coat. Ivan threw your soaked one on the ground and wrapped you in his gigantic one. You turned to him, those (e/c) eyes that had moments before been helpless, lost and scared, now filled with hope. A smile tugged at your lips, and it made the Russian's heart melt. But your eyes started to flutter. "Don't let go, _____."

You opened up your eyes again, lost in his purple ones. It was so cold even in the warmed up jacket, and you felt extremely tired. But those beautiful eyes, they were filled with determination. His strides were brimming with urgency. He cared about your condition, when he hadn't known you for more than a few minutes.

Russia practically bounded home with you in his arms. His house really wasn't far from your own, considering how far you had wandered already. You were the first person to be genuinely kind to him in more than a few hundred years. And here you were, dying in his arms. He wouldn't have it. He had left far too many to die alone in the snow, and he knew how quickly it could claim someone unattended.

Your eyes fluttered once more, and this time Ivan tried something different, a tactic you had seen on cop shows when someone was shot. "_____, tell me about yourself." Usually it was the segments brimming with emotion, that under certain circumstances either made you cry, or made you sick. And it was usually a father, and the guy holding his gunshot wound would be all dramatic trying to get him to tell the guy about his children to keep him from slipping away.

"What about?" you whispered, trying to hold on.

His purple eyes looked down quickly, filled with what appeared to be concern. "Tell me what you're thinking." Ivan really did want to know, you had put your life in his hands.

"I think you're quite nice, compared to all the shit England has been feeding me." you told him. You then asked a quick question, "Do you really hit people with pipes?"

Ivan smirked at the peculiar fascination in your face, "Just the one."

"And I think I probably should have just stayed home and not gone for such a far away walk. And I think I really pissed off my boss. He's probably really worried... But it's nice to meet you." you smiled a small little smile, and while he looked bewildered, he still smiled back.

Russia looked down at you once again, "What do you think of the other countries?"

"Hmm... England is kind of sweet, I guess. He's a bit too cheery for my tastes, though. Canada is nice and all, but he's shy to a point where it's bothersome. France is just creepy and annoying. Sometimes I want to hit Italy really hard, but I respect Germany and Japan. And I suppose I don't know anyone else very well. At least not well enough to have a good opinion of them yet. Oh, and the American." she said, trailing off.

Ivan felt himself fill with rage, jealousy. "What about America?" There were people that loved the man, and Russia was worried that you treated him with the same compassion you treated America.

"He's horrible. I want to throw him in a basement and watch him rot. Or sick a jaguar on him, have it eviscerate him and watch him bleed out slowly while the big cat eats his insides. Or maybe I could roast him alive on the stake. I think I'd like to hear him scream in pain, instead of that happy wailing for once. But it could also be better to cut out his tongue and watch him choke on his own blood, unable to say anything at all as he dies." you prattled on, whispering about the ways you would kill the "hero". A slow grin spread over Ivan's face. You two had more in common than he had thought.

Your eyes slid shut then, and your small whispers stopped. It was too cold to think, and everything was fuzzy around the edges. Ivan heard your voice stop, and looked down to your peaceful sleep. "_____? _____!" he said, terribly worried for your sake. But you were pretty far gone.

He could see his house now, and this gave him an extra burst. Russia kicked in the door of his house (sending Latvia flying down the hallway), and rushed you before the fire. Feeling the heat lick your skin, you opened your eyes once more. The first thing your (e/c) eyes opened to see were Ivan's purple ones, flooding with relief. "You scared me, _____." he said, chastising you.

"Sorry." you said, staring straight back into the Russian's eyes, startling him. Normally people shifted their gaze away from him after a few moments, but you looked at him without fear.

He smiled at you, so warmly you almost instantly felt better, "I'm just glad you're alright."

"Yeah. Thank you so much for helping me." You grinned back, surprising both him and yourself. It had been a long time since you had been so happy.

Then something registered in your mind. You noticed how close he was to your face, and how intensely he stared into your eyes. A blush crept up on your face, yet you couldn't look away from those stunning violet eyes. It seemed like you became lost in those purple orbs for hours. Eventually, trying to gather your remaining sanity, you were able to breathe, "So, what now?"

"I don't know. What do you think?" he looked at you eagerly, as if you might once more reveal your thoughts to him like you did in your bitter cold state.

You bit your lip, then smiled in a sad way. "I think I should try to get back home before my boss flips a shit."

"Da." Ivan smiled back, but he looked disappointed. Hopefully he added, "You could stay the night if you didn't want to go back out in the storm." His point struck home as a gust of wind whirled around the house.

Shivering at the thought of trying to make your way home in that mess, you nodded, and he held you a little tighter, thinking you were cold. "That would probably be a good idea." Ivan was elated. You weren't running away from him, you didn't seem scared at all. Maybe you two could actually become friends...

"I'll get the Baltics to set up the spare room. I think some of my sisters' clothes will fit you." He got up to get you ready to stay. You just nodded, smiling back at him, and stayed huddled in his warm coat by the fire place.

Ivan seemed really nice. You couldn't understand why everyone was always talking about him like he was a menace or something. Speaking of them, you looked at your phone. There were four missed calls and three texts. Arthur had called you once, and Matthew had called you repeatedly.

_____,
I saw Russia carrying u. Wat's goin' on? R u ok?

-Matthew

_____,
Matthew told me he saw you and Russia. Are you alright? Do you need our help?
-Arthur

You smiled slightly at his formality even in the text.

_____,
Ur really starting to worry me. Why haven't you called me back? If you don't respond I'll get u help, ok?
-Matthew

You tapped out a message quickly to the both of them,

Guys, I'm fine, don't worry. I'll talk later, k?
-_____

After messaging your boss and informing him you'd be out for the night, you turned off your phone.

~

Canada was pacing, waiting for England to get out of a meeting and call him. Your boss had just called and asked if you were staying the night. Matthew had simply told him no, and listened to the old man grumble for a bit before hanging up.

That meant you were staying the night. With. Russia.

He was petrified. But he was also furious.

Canada began over thinking things and wondered if that last text really sounded like you. It wasn't really like you to punctuate that well, and autocorrect usually slipped you up making you sound funny. What-What if Russia had sent out those texts?

Matthew was so furious he ended up doing something drastic. He gulped as he heard the phone ringing, and held it far from his ear. Still the voice near popped his eardrum, "Dude! Canadia! What's goin' on?"

"A-America," he sighed, "I need your help."

~

The doorbell rang, and you saw a man go to answer it. Curious and much warmer than you had been, you stood and walked over to peek at the guest.

You flinched hearing that voice. "Hey, Lithuania, dude! It's great to see you!"

"H-Hi, America." Lithuania said. "What're you doing here?"

America strode into the house like he owned it, then spotted you, "That."

(e/c) eyes wide, he walked up to you quickly, and grabbed you. America threw you up over his shoulder and walked out of the house.

Getting over your shock you squirmed in his tight grasp, "Put me down, you filthy bastard! Don't touch me!"

"I'm the hero, though. What kind of hero doesn't save those in distress?" he laughed like a maniac.

"Ivan! Help me!" you cried out in vain, your voice getting lost in the storm. You couldn't even get to the knife in your jean pocket. But, there was some metal object in the coat.
You grabbed the pipe and twisted it around in your grasp. "Put me down, fucker!" When he just laughed at you once more, you used the fury to bring the pipe down on his head.

He dropped you in surprise, but looked furious. When you hit him he had tightened his clasp on you tremendously and your sides now ached. "You shouldn't have done that, bitch." You became terrified. You had hit him almost as hard as you could, and it didn't seem to do anything but make him mad.

"What-What're you gonna do?" you backed away, as a red tint rose in his eyes.

He materialized a baseball bat with twisted rusty nails in the top, and began to swing it around nonchalantly. "I don't know. Why do we just try to have a little fun?" You gripped the cold metal pipe so tightly your knuckles turned white.

His eyes moved behind you, and then filled with what looked like fear. The red tint drained out of them, along with the rest of the color in his face. You felt a comforting large hand grab your shoulder. Ivan looked at you with concern, and when you smiled in relief at him, he moved to grasp the pipe. "Remember what we talked about earlier?" he said quietly. You nodded, smiling slightly. "I'm not sure if we can get a jaguar, but I'm sure I can make him scream in pain for you."

America's blue eyes showed his utter terror, and Russia raised the pipe. Holding the bat in front of him to shield, the blond was horrified to hear the sound of splintering wood. Ivan broke the bat in half, and continued down to make a huge thud on America's head. The guy crumpled like a sheet of paper. Considering the damage you did to him, Ivan had to be insanely strong. "Hmm... He didn't scream." you said, methodically. "At least he's not talking now. I think that's even better."

"It is nice to not have to hear him." Russia dragged the bloody pipe through the snow, leaving a streak of red. That aura that people spoke of surrounded him, and he turned, looking at you. Worry filled his face, "He didn't get a chance to hurt you did he?"

You were a little afraid of how Ivan might react to knowing your sides were killing you, but more afraid to lie. "He grabbed me pretty hard, but I'll be fine." Once the bruises go away... Then you noticed he had rushed out of the house without a coat, "Ivan, you must be freezing!"

He frowned as you moved to give him back his coat. "Let's just go inside, da?"

"Oh, sure." you said, as he put an arm tentatively around your shoulders.

~

Later, when you were changing, you heard a quick knock on your door. Thinking it was just Ukraine, you didn't really mind her seeing you in a bra. "_____, are you sure you're alright-" Ivan's voice stopped, and you whipped around. You flushed a bright red, grabbing a shirt to try and cover your chest. He had a slight blush too, but was frowning. "Those bruises... Did he do that?"

You looked to the black and blue splotches blossoming on your sides. "When I hit him on the head he got startled, I guess." you mumbled, still nervous.

Looking down you didn't notice Russia approaching you. You shivered slightly as his fingers grazed your bruised skin. The light pressure didn't hurt at all, in fact his cold hand was soothing to the damaged skin. "Can I do anything to help?" he whispered.

"I-I don't think there's anything to do really. Just let them heal." you stumbled over your words, blushing furiously. Hurriedly you slipped on a plain tee shirt of Belarus'. Ivan's face near mimicked your pain as you winced. You were stunned he seemed to care so much for you.

He helped you into the spare bed, and turned out the light. However, when he moved to leave you caught his sleeve. "Ivan?"

"Da?"

"Why-" you paused, trying to think of how to phrase it, "Why did you help me?" He was silhouetted in the rectangular beam of light shining in from the hall.

He smiled lightly, and dodged the question, "Which time?"

"Either of them." you said, wanting a straightforward answer. Frowning, he sighed and sat on the side of the bed, making sure not to jostle you too much.

Ivan took your hand in his own, smiling even more as you reacted warmly to his touch, rather than turning away. "_____," he started, not wanting to lie, "you're the first person not to act afraid of me, to be kind to me, in far too long. It's been years..." You looked at him, how devastated he looked, and then the compassion he looked at you with. There was only one thought on your mind. The guy needed a hug. And while it did hurt your sides a bit, it was worth it. "_____?" he stammered.

"You looked like you needed a hug." you said pointedly.

He put an arm around you cautiously. Ivan smiled, looking down at your (h/c) head nuzzled in the fabric of his coat. "You're crazy."

"All the best people are." you told him. In his arms you grew drowsy.

You had already fallen asleep when he said, "Я думаю, что я люблю тебя, подсолнечника." (I think I love you, sunflower). He looked down, and found you in slumber. All Ivan could be concerned with was that you were comfortable sleeping in his grasp. You weren't worried he would hurt you, or that he would steal you away. You slept peacefully, unhindered by his presence. And that only made his feelings stronger. For minutes, possibly hours, Russia held you in his arms, watching you sleep. Then he slowly laid you back in the bed. Unconsciously, you groaned in pain as the slight pressure was applied to the battered skin. Fury consumed Ivan, and he vowed to never let anyone hurt you again.

~

You walked into the world meeting, just a few minutes before it started. Immediately you contracted stares. Canada and England rushed over to you, Canada asking, "What the hell happened?"

"Nothing." you said, uncomfortable under America's glare.

Arthur looked really worried, "Nothing!? Did Russia tell you to say that?"

"No!" you told him, horrified he would jump to such a conclusion.

Matthew looked at you, "When you didn't come back with America, and he was hurt... You scared me to death!"

You frowned looking at your friend. "You sent that jackass after me?" Across the room America stood, making you flinch. "Do you see what he did to me?" you fumed, lifting the hem of your shirt to show them the bruises. Canada and England looked horrified, while others in the room gasped.

"You hit me on the head with a pipe!" he defended, storming towards you.

Emboldened by the shadow covering you and the strong hand on your shoulder, you called back, "You tried to fucking kidnap me!"

"America, did you really do that?" Matthew still looked stunned at the marks on your skin.

"Look, dude, I was just trying to help your girl. She went berserk!" America said, trying to get everyone to stop glaring at him.

You sort of melted into Ivan, "You can't just come into peoples' houses and take people away! You scared the hell out of me!"

"Oh, so you automatically grab Russia's pipe and hit me?" the red tint was back in his eyes, and even with Russia behind you, you felt fear creeping up in your insides.

You could feel tears pinprick in your eyes, "I was only trying to get you to put me down! You were practically strangling me!" Why was he being so irrational?

England burst out laughing, "Did _____ really make that dent? How weak are you to be downed by a girl?"

America lifted a hand to his bandages, "That wasn't her. That was Russia."

"R-Russia hit you?" Canada asked, frightened.

You defended, "Only because he looked like he wanted to kill me! He was swinging around a bloody baseball bat with nails..."

"That's right, you broke my favorite bat, commie!" America said, feeling bolder with everyone around him.

Ivan moved, grabbing the neck of the whiney American. He slammed him up against the wall. "И тебе больно моей подсолнечника, ублюдок." (And you hurt my sunflower, bastard.)

"D-Dude c-calm down- I can't understand you." America's blue eyes were wide and everyone but you was terrified.

Only you, Ivan, and America heard the next part, everyone else had backed away. "I'll say this slow so you can wrap you puny little mind around it, da? If you touch her again, I will not hesitate to slaughter you."

America nodded frantically, and you walked up to Russia. You put a hand on his shoulder, and he whipped around. He face, and his grip on America instantly softened, and he dropped the man on the floor. Ivan then grasped your hand lightly and led you to two empty seats. America straightened his glasses, and while looking a tad traumatized still made his way back to his seat. Germany cleared his throat, "Alright, let's get back to the matters at hand."

~

Your friendship with Ivan only got better. Both of you often slept over at the other's home, and you could both complain to each other about controlling bosses and painful pasts. At first everyone was against your relationship, but then as you started to make the man more calm, and occupy his time, they warmed up to the idea. Your friendship made their relationships with him more pleasant.

But it strained beyond friendship. And one day, Ivan appeared with a sunflower on your doorstep. "привет, подсолнечник." (Hello, sunflower.) he said with a warm smile.

"Hi, Ivan." you waved him inside.

He sat with you on the couch, fidgeting with his scarf, a light blush on his cheeks. "Я люблю тебя." he mumbled quietly. At the confused look on your face, he handed you the flower and took your other hand, "It means I love you."

You looked at the man, professing his love. Tears gathered in your eyes. "Russia," your lip trembled and you smiled widely, "Ivan, every second I spend with you is exhilarating. I have never been bored around you, not for one second. Sometimes you scare the hell out of me." You embraced him tightly, and he wrapped his arms around you as well, "And I absolutely love you for it. I-I love you, Ivan. I really do."

Ivan smiled down at you. It wasn't his scary little smile that would make almost anyone gulp, but a true genuine smile filled with love and compassion. Sure there was a small hint of possessiveness and lust, but was that such a bad thing? He kissed you suddenly, and you were off to cloud nine, the euphoria sweeping over you. Melting in his arms, you felt crushing urgency, and he moved to kissing down your jaw. Once more that possessive lust was in his eyes, and you decided to find out what he was going to do about it.