FemRussiaxReader: Drunken Kiss One

FemRussiaxReader:
Drunken Kisses One

The bitter taste of Vodka flowed down Russia throat like acid.  She sighed slamming the large bottle of grey goose on the bar edge.  Russia giggled as she lifted the bottle up again trying to place it neatly on the counter.
“I appear to be drunk, da?” Russia slurred to herself playing with the early empty bottle. Russia was not a light drinker in the least. She was the nation whom no one dared have a drinking contest with. They had all learned that lesson the first and only time America had challenged her. Tonight was a bit different as Russia slammed back five large bottles of Grey Goose Vodka. It wasn’t a brand Russia liked for it wasn’t real vodka to her. If it didn’t put hair on her chest, and didn’t make America appear intelligent then it wasn’t vodka. Tonight was different as Russia waved over at the bartender who came over shaking.
“Miss I think….” He stammered looking away from Russia as he tried to cut her off. Russia smiled sweetly her lilac eyes growing darker.
“I think I’ll know when I’ve had enough.” The venom in her voice dripped off filling the young man with fear. He squealed rushing into the back room to hide out until the strange women decided to leave.  Russia tipped back the rest of the vodka, relishing in the burn it left in her throat.  Once empty Russia threw the bottle across the room letting it shatter to the floor. Russia hummed placing her hands in her lap waiting for her sixth bottle to arrive.
“Damn Princess,” A voice chuckled from the bar stool to her left.  Russia chanced a glance at the owner of the voice.  The women had (h/l) (h/c) styled in a playful manner with a chainsaw hair clip holding back her bangs.  
“You act as if you own this place?” The women commented holding a bottle of vodka up to her blood red lips. Russia watched the women drink the vodka, a trickle slipping past her lips. The drip flowed down her (s/c) chin tempting Russia to lick it up. Russia licked her lips her in hunger for this women’s vodka. The women pulled the bottle away from her lips with a smacking sound. She smiled lustfully at Russia holding out the bottle for her to take.
“Want a sip?” She asked running a hand through Russia’s long beige hair. Russia snatched the bottle from the woman’s hand.  Without saying a word Russia took a sip of the drink she craved for. Russia slammed the bottle to the ground spitting out the liquid in her mouth.
“That wasn’t very nice little one,” Russia’s sweet smiled contradicted her acidic words. The woman chuckle her (e/c) eyes glaring at Russia.
“I’m not so little Russia.” The woman purred tugging on a strand of Russia’s hair.
“I am in no mood for drinking water or playing games!” Russia informed motioning to the shattered glass on the floor.
“You don’t even remember me?” The woman tilted her head to the side displeasure evident in her posture.
“I remember you.” Russia lied trying to remember who this woman that was annoying her was.  From the way she talked to Russia as if they were friends, to the way she held herself. What made Russia itch to slam her trusty shovel into this woman’s face was one her lips. Those blood red lips that begged to be pleasured.  They tempted Russia as much as her beloved vodka. She wanted to have a taste and see if it would be as she imaged.
“Then tell me who--” The woman was cut off by a rough kiss. The blood red lips were soft against Russia’s own and the feeling didn’t displease her. It just wasn’t what Russia wanted. Russia bit the lips until she could feel warm liquid running on her tongue. The woman gasped allowing Russia entrance to her moist mouth. Russia snaked her tongue inside to toy with the woman’s own tongue. It wasn’t long until the women fought back knocking at Russia’s chest. Russia grabbed the hands holding them in a vice grip. Russia pulled away to allow the woman to gasp for breath.
“I won’t stop even if you fight back.” Russia warned her aura darkening the room around them. The woman still gasping smirked at Russia.
“Who says I wanted you to stop.” She seductively whispered leaning on her bar stool to be closer to Russia.
“Oh.” Was all Russia could muster before an acidic taste rose in her throat.  Only seconds after brownish bile spewed from Russia’s mouth and onto the (f/c) shoes of the woman she had kissed. Once Russia was done puking she looked up at the woman.
“I think I’m drunk now.” Russia stated dark spots filling up in the corner of her eyes. A moment later Russia collapsed to the ground unconscious.
“Well fuck.” The woman hissed looking down at the girl before her.
“Ahem!” A voice coughed to get the woman’s attention. She turned to be met with the manager of the bar, and the bartender Russia had harassed beside him.  The woman smiled apologetically giving the two man a ‘what can ya do’ shrug.
“I’ll be paying for this won’t I.”
The man gave her a stern glare informing the woman she was correct. The woman looked down at the drunken angel on the floor below her. The woman sighed getting off the bar stool to kneel down beside Russia.
“Looks like you’re waking up in my place.”  The woman informed devious smirk lighting up her face.