Hi, peeps :D Wammy's House Reject here with a Greece/Turkey angst/lemon thingy XD
~oOo~
Draw a circle, that's the Earth,
Draw a circle, that's the Earth
Draw a circle, that's the Earth
I don't own Hetalia.
~oOo~
Groaning. Panting. A deep, sorrowful voice, like the ringing of a funeral bell.
(Greece has such a beautiful voice. So soft and elegant- a low, rapturous, solemn melody.)
Jade colored eyes cloud with an overpowering lust, despite the long standing hatred for the man on top of him…inside him.
Turkey, the man he loathed more than anyone else in the world-
The man who owned him more than anyone else in the world.
Turkey was the only one who could do this- who could take Greece and debase him, dragged him down lower than he really wanted to be.
A smirk works its way onto Turkey's face- a wide grin that tells him exactly how much he is in control. His crushing grip captures Greece's hips, giving more leverage to thrust harder, deeper, faster into his quivering body.
Rough hands, calloused and scarred from centuries of conquest, caress Greece's body, from the smooth, muscled, well-built surface of his chest to those legs spread wide apart for him, taking him in again and again.
(Always so fucking tight. Warm, tight, beautiful, perfect…)
I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him…
Greece's church bell voice reverberates in Turkey's ears, so beautiful and perfect. Turkey growls, low and feral, like a wolf.
He remembers when Greece was just a child- strange that he should recall it now. Greece had been such a stubborn, imperious child beneath his quite, sleepy-eyed exterior. He refused all of Turkey's demands, fighting with him over the stupidest of requests. So Turkey had taught the boy submission- taught him what it really means to be weak.
Now, here, in the dark, in Turkey's house, Greece submitted to every request, whimpering when Turkey penetrated him, taking all he was and then some more.
In the dead of night, the corruption of their union covers his chest, drips from his body, slow and sickening. Turkey mutters mocking words, calling him a whore, cheap, easy, smearing his lover's seed over sun kissed skin.
"Yer just a filthy little whore; you know that, right?
(Greece believed every word.)
Love has no place here. No…this is not a question of love. Why, then, did he submit? No matter how many times he told himself no more, this is the last, once Turkey called him back, he always came. He let himself be ravished, let himself be tortured as he had when he was helpless and oh so small…
He felt so helpless; worthless…yeah…it made sense. He came back to the man who fucked him senseless because he wasn't worth a dime.
(Turkey is, at the very least, kind enough to ignore his tears.)
~oOo~
Ah! This world around us
Can be seen with the stroke of a single brush!
And now, the readers all leave reviews!
~Heta-li-a!