Friend or Foe: RussiaXReader"Ivan "Friend or Foe: RussiaXReader2 years ago in Romance More Like This
You walked into his home. It was empty and in slight disarray as if everyone had left in a hurry, which you didn't doubt. All of the nations left him after the Iron Curtain fell. You had been a long time friend of Russia's not an ally but a friend or so you would like to believe. He would be lonely. Everyone had left him. He had no one left. His boss had let all of the other nations go, in hopes that they could make new friendships. You would be the first to go to him to announce your friendship. America was still slightly uncertain as to how to act around him, though America's boss and Russia's boss were friendly towards one another.
"Ivan!" you called louder.
You entered his room. A terrified squeak left your lips when you were pinned against the wall. Your eyes went wide when you saw Russia standing over you. A pipe was pressed against your throat in a threatening manner. Ivan looked truly insane. His wide, frightened eyes refused meet your calm ones. The moonlig
Leave a MessageGermany sighed and ran his fingers through his slicked back blond hair, his blue eyes narrowed in frustration.Leave a Message2 years ago in Humor More Like This
Even though he had only left his phone for about an hour or so when he left to buy groceries, it now showed that he had three new messages in his voicemail. He recognized the number at once as belonging to his best (first) friend Italy.
What on earth did Italy want now? Knowing the silly pasta lover, he probably was having trouble tying his shoelaces. Germany shook his head, feeling a mixture of annoyance and amusement. After a few decades, he had become used to Italy's unique personality.
After pouring himself some beer, Germany sat down in his favorite chair and picked the phone back up to listen to his voicemail. Most likely Italy need help reaching the top shelf or had a cut on his knee that he wanted Germany to kiss better. A rare smile flickered across the German's face at the thought of a cute Italy begging him to kiss his wounds better.
He would never admit it to