#aph England x reader

[generational-atrophy]

ok like ur one of my top 3 fav hetalia request blogs so uhhh could i get the big 8 (and canada ofc) and how they cuddle???

hetalia main 8 (+ canada & prussia) affection hcs

2.0k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: mention of suggestive themes, mention of alcohol

a/n: sorry this got turned into just general affection hcs. hope thats ok. also i couldnt find the original source for any of these images :sob:

America

Alfred is a very casually intimate person. His legs intertwined with yours while you game, his hand on your shoulder while you introduce him, and his hands held over yours while he shows you anything, are all common sights even before you start dating.

But once you actually get together, he doesn't get much more affectionate as much as he does touchy. Say goodbye to any personal space, as Alfred loves to manhandle you. Anytime he likes something you're wearing, he just grabs it and forces you to stand there awkwardly.

Every time he comes home from work stressed, he insists that you hold his head in your lap and pet his hair.

When the night begins, he's on the other side of the bed. But by morning, the blankets are practically all on the floor while he hugs you from behind, his face buried in your hair and his legs caging you against the sheets.

Also: he's a great hugger (: Any sickness can be ailed by drowning in his arms.  Sometimes it really does feel suffocating, he has no sense of self-control and way too much love for you to realize that it’s alarming to be tackled to the ground.

England

Arthur despises PDA. Arthur despises you knowing how much he cares. Arthur despises being vulnerable in any way. Arthur despises rainbows and sunshine. But he loves you, so he'll hold you by the waist when your head falls on his shoulder.

Most of the time, the most you'll get is a chaste kiss, only sometimes on the lips. It took him a while to even agree to share a bed because it's “unseemly“ for an unwed couple. When you do share a bed, he rarely cuddles up to you. He’s almost always an arm's length away, close but not too close.

But when he gets drunk, his real self comes out. Suddenly he's pressing soft kisses up and down your chest, his hands keeping you pressed against the bed while he whispers how much he loves you in languages he hasn't spoken in centuries.

But even when he's in his right mind, you might be able to convince him to let you sit in his lap while he reads to you. He'll deny it, but he does love it greatly. In general, he prefers holding you rather than the other way around.

France

While Francis may be incredibly affectionate, he isn't really the biggest cuddler. His physical affection comes mostly in the forms of passionate, breath-taking kisses and slow dancing. But of course, he does love having you close, so you'll end up cuddling anyway.

He loves lounging with you by his side, a nice bottle of wine readily available, while you two reminisce. His hands always find a way to snake underneath your clothing, but it's only so he can trace soft patterns on your skin, making you relax even further against him.

At night, it depends on the mood. If you're feeling needy, he'll happily pull you close to rest your head on his chest. If he's feeling needy, he'll beg for you to hold him close, to run your fingers through his hair and tell him how much you love him. But if it's the summer and he's hot, he'll kick you off the bed if you touch him.

Also, just for the record, he never lets go of your hand throughout the day. Ever. The difference between affection at home and affection in public is completely lost on Francis, so be prepared for him to pull you against him just like he would if no one was watching.

China

In terms of love languages, Yao cares much more for quality time than physical affection. But he can be prone to clingy moods, refusing to leave your side for hours at a time. During those times, it's best to just let him nuzzle his face against your neck without protest.

On the rare nights that he lets you cook, he'll hold you tight from behind. Surprisingly not just to criticize your technique, but also because he just loves how you feel pressed up against him.

When it comes to the bed, he is surprisingly cuddly. He'll ghost his hands all over your body while you're falling asleep, seemingly always in awe of your beauty. He's rarely aggressive in any way, his affection always soft and thoughtful.

(Also, he prefers cuddling without clothes. Not for even a single remotely sexual reason, but just because it's so much more intimate)

When in public, he never goes beyond brushing a hair behind your ear; but with the way he looks at you, you always feel just as loved as you would otherwise.

Russia

The moment you give him permission, Ivan is all over you. Constant kisses, constant hugs, never more than a step away, he'll be attached to your side for as long as you let him.

Anytime you two are together, he'll pull you as close as possible. Watching a movie is always done with you on his lap, no car ride is complete without his hand around your thigh, and even when you're separated, he's anxious to keep an eye on you.

Without you in his arms, he'd find it difficult to sleep. He can't get enough of watching you while your eyes flutter shut, his calloused hands running through your hair until you finally relax completely.

Every time you reach out for him first, he finds himself too flustered to speak. He's a very handsy person himself, so it's impossible to make him uncomfortable. All he can do is watch you in awe, never growing tired of the feeling of your skin against his.

Canada

Matthew's affection is always hesitant, as if he's afraid you'll break the moment his skin meets yours. He'd never do as little as hold your hand without your permission, much less pull you into a hug.

But the opposite is true when you're the one asking him for his touch. If you seem nervous, suddenly his kiss is all-consuming, taking the breath out of your lungs and causing you to stumble.

At night, he absolutely melts when you hold each other. Your hands around his waist make him shiver, and he can't stop himself from burying his face in your hair, his fingers drawing feather-light patterns into your back. But it already takes an hour of convincing to get him into bed with you, much less to get him to cuddle without him constantly asking if you’re alright.

In public, however, any affection makes him blush bright red. He can barely believe that you're alright with showing your love for him. If you were to suddenly hug him to say goodbye, it's unlikely he'd be able to pull himself away. He loves your touch, but he can't let himself indulge, the fear of your rejection making him fear getting too close.

Italy

From the moment you two met, Feliciano's hands all over you, at all times. Personal boundaries is not something he's familiar with. No matter where you are, he's grossly affectionate. He usually doesn't care whether or not you hug him back, as long as you don't reject him too bluntly. Then he'll cry. But stop nonetheless.

If you're ever insecure, he's the man to reassure you. You'll never again leave the house without tons of kisses all over your face, much less do anything without his arm around your waist.

As expected, he's also very needy. He's satisfied to just rest his head on your shoulder most of the time, but sometimes he just needs you to hold him. If you're alright with it, his designated spot is always curled up against you with his head in your lap. If you pet his hair too, he'll be yours for life.

In bed, it's the same. If you're wrapped up in each other's arms, he's happy. But if you're holding him, not too soft yet not too tight, he might just start crying. For good reasons this time.

Germany

Ludwig’s affection is always awkward, his grip is always too tight or too soft, but he does truly love being beside you. No matter how afraid he is, as soon as you pull him into a hug, he completely forgets all nervousness. But still, it’s not often he goes out of his way to do any more than rest a hand on your shoulder comfortingly.

At night, it’s the same. He wants you close, close enough that you could always wake him up if you needed to, but not close enough that you’re pressed against each other. But on those awful nights when you just need some comfort, he’s more than happy to wrap you in a bunch of blankets and hold you all night long (He won’t get any sleep, but being so protective makes him feel just as happy.)

What he lacks in physical affection, he more than makes up for in every other area. At least he always knows the best places to kiss you.

Japan

Kiku is a very private man. You knew that before you were dating, but even now, it seems like even his affection is kept to himself. You constantly see him reach for you out of the corner of your eye, before he suddenly pulls away.

He's always rather cold in public. The most you get at home is usually just a chaste kiss, too.

Except at night, when he's too overworked and sleepy to think straight, it's the opposite. Suddenly he's crawling into your arms in the dead of night, desperate and whining for your affection. Sometimes it's the opposite, his hesitant hands running over your side, careful not to disturb you as you're pulled into his embrace.

Either way, it's rare that either of you wake up without the other, strewn across the bed and buried under the mountains of blankets Kiku loves. Just don't bring it up, because he's deathly embarrassed of how much he needs your affection.

Romano

There is not a day that goes by without Romano demanding you two cuddle. In public, at home, at night, in the morning, when you're doing nothing, when you're busy... he is... quite needy when it comes to physical affection.

His favourite way to cuddle is in bed, blankets thrown wildly around the two of you, him wrapped around you and resting his head on your thighs while you play with his hair. But he's honestly not that picky as long as you're almost painfully close.

He doesn't kiss you often (especially in public, just because he's so insecure about how people see the two of you,) but when he does, it feels like something out of a movie. Your breath taken in a second, your mind going blank, your entire body seeming to melt into his effortlessly...

As time goes on, he would probably become less clingy. When you first start dating, he's so anxious to make sure you understand how much you mean to him, that he ends up overcompensating in a lot of areas... especially when it comes to affection.

But his body IS kind of perfect for cuddling, so...

Prussia

Gilbert is a very proud man, and that remains obvious in the way he touches you. He's anxious to show off your attachment in public, always having his hand intertwined tightly with yours, his eyes never leaving you no matter what.

At home, it's the same. He's not overly clingy, especially when he gets in snippy moods, but he still believes everything is better when you're by his side. His favourite thing in the world is being cuddled up on the couch, your head resting on his shoulder while he runs his fingers down your thighs, watching probably one of the worst movies ever made.

When in bed, he's a lot more needy. He tends to get cold, so he always pulls you against him. When you cling to his chest, he swears he's in heaven. But that also means it's a struggle to get up in the morning since he always insists on “just 5 more minutes.“

He's rather... grabby. His affection is usually aggressive, and sometimes a little embarrassing, but it's just because he's so desperate to show you how he really feels, beyond the silly act.

[lady0ctavia]

When They See Their S/O Crying (Allies)

Headcanons for how I think the Hetalia characters would act if they walked in on their S/O crying.

America: Okay, Alfred would low-key start to freak out a little bit. He's pretty good at dealing with people in general, but that's only when they're in a good mood. He doesn't totally know what to do for someone who's crying. So when he sees your tears, he's a little thrown. His first instinct is to try and make you laugh or smile, and if that fails, he'll realize that whatever is going on is more serious and will wrap his arms around you, telling you, "Hey, it's okay. Just let it out." He really does try. It's just that, surprisingly enough, comforting others isn't always the hero's strong suit.

England: Arthur would immediately take this very seriously, reaching forward to hold your hand with both hands, rubbing his thumb over your skin. He'll look you in the eye and insist on knowing what's wrong. When he doesn't get an answer and you continue crying, he'll gently hold your head and tenderly wipe away your tears, giving you small kisses on your face. He'd also take the time to make you two a pot of tea after you've calmed down a bit, hoping to calm you down even further, as well as get you to explain to him what's going on.

France: Francis's heart will shatter upon seeing your tears, reaching forward to wrap you up in his arms before bringing you down to take a seat with him on the couch. He'd run his fingers through your hair, allow you to press your body into his, and whisper sweet nothings into your ear in French. He'd also hold your hand tightly and bring it up to his chest, as well as kiss away your tears. If you need to vent to him, he'd be all ears, willingly listening to all you have to say. I can also see him playing soft music to try and calm you down.

Russia: If Ivan sees you crying, prepare for him to become the ultimate teddy bear. He'll hug you tightly, wrapping his big, strong arms around you. He'd sit down with you in his lap, practically wrapping his body around yours. I can also see him being the kind of guy to gently sway you to and fro as if cradling a frightened child. It hurts him to see you in any kind of emotional pain, and he wants to do everything in his power to help you. He'd also make you hot cocoa and give you little kisses on the nose after you calm down.

China: Yao is surprised at first, but quickly springs into action. He'd softly grab your arm and gently guide you towards a place to sit down. He'd sit close to you and start rubbing his hand up and down your back. If you need to, he'll allow you to hold onto him as you cry. He'd rest his head on yours and allow you to let it all out. Afterward, I can see him getting you some water to rehydrate with (crying can dehydrate you) and offering to make you a special meal that night to try and lift your spirit. Of course, after you tell him what's going on.

Canada: Matthieu would press his forehead to yours, and softly ask you what's wrong. If you're too upset to answer, he'll just rub his hands up and down your arms while shushing your cries, pressing small kisses to your cheeks and around your eyes, hoping to kiss the tears away. He'd listen to your problems as he preps you some herbal tea in the kitchen. As the two of you sit there he'll take your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, smiling at you sweetly.

[wabatle]

☆~Allies (-Russia) with a super affectionate s/o

wabatle nonsense:

basically i want to write for hetalia more and this fic was fun and also i think i’m super affectionate so….ENJOY GUYS

I'm also a little scared to post this because this is my first romantic hetalia post and my second hetalia fic, so I don't necessarily have a hetalia audience yet

also, here's the one of Italy and Japan

warnings: none except i'm a nerd and spent way too much time stressing over one character's part (will not specify who)

☆~America

You’re like a perfect match for each other, because he’s affectionate too!

He returns your affection most likely by smothering you, constantly being all over you and kissing you everywhere you let him

He also just yaps to everyone about how much he loves you

As for PDA, he literally does not care and will show just about anything you feel comfortable with

If you’re cooking somewhere, do not be surprised if he hugs you from behind and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck

Ugghhgh I’m sorry i love him so muchhhfhsdifjhasfhwe

Not to mention cuddlesss

Literally like 60% of your relationship is just cuddling and enjoying each other’s company

☆~England

He might get mad or embarrassed if you’re too affectionate in public

At home, he doesn’t mind it as much, though he may still get embarrassed

He likes to read to you, or have you sit right next to him while you both read in silence, only breaking it to ask if you’re ready to turn the page

If you’re cooking something, he’ll put his arm around you and ask to help, but you’ll have to force him out of the kitchen because we all know how good he is when it comes to cooking

In public, he’ll let you hold his hand or his arm, or maybe he’ll put his arm around you if he’s feeling brave and you got lucky

☆~France

Ohhh my gosh he’s just as affectionate, if not more

Be ready to be completely smothered while being flirted with

PDA is a must, he needs to flaunt his relationship with you, to show everyone how much you love each other

Of course he won’t do anything you don’t want him to do, but he might find ways to work around it

He would like to make you red. If you’re already sitting on the couch or in bed cuddling, he’s gonna say something so out of pocket you almost fall off the bed trying to hide your bright red face

If you're cooking, he'll put his arm around your waist and start cooking with you

☆~China

We already know that he likes cute things, so he probably thinks your actions are adorable

I think he would also let you hold his hand anywhere you go, but that's it in public

At home, on the other hand, he's just as affectionate with you

Expect him to lay with his head in your lap or on your shoulder and complain about his day and how stupid the people of the current generation are

He may protest, but he'll let you do the same for him eventually

I also don't think he'd mind if you were being clingy, and he likes it if you lay with your head on his shoulder so he can put his head on yours

[stonesilhouette]

Affections of an Apparition

Yandere Ghost England x GN. Reader

TW: Yandere Behavior | Character Death | England tries to kill (Y/n) more than a few times but then he becomes a simp | Magical Kidnapping | Imprisonment | Magical Induced Forgetting | idk if I forgor something

Uhhhhh I wrote this in literally a day, I don't want to talk about it okay :(

(There is technically one use of the world 'she' by another character but I'm pretty sure that's it. This was originally fem. reader and I don't want it to differ from my other publications so I'm gonna leave it)

Word Count: 5916

Perhaps you should have thought a little harder and dug a little deeper inside of yourself when deciding to buy a haunted house… But it was just so cheap!

Sure the shutters creaked during the frequent storms like a man in unpeaceful rest and the wind howled past the house, desperate to invade, but the view was beautiful… When it wasn’t completely enshrouded by a heavy mist so thick that you could get lost and find yourself in another realm altogether. But inside!... wasn’t much better; with winding corridors that created an inescapable maze and sharp corners filled with shadows. Every eave and crevice hid strange noises and eyes; some days you could swear that you heard the whisperings of a man rush by your ear, stiffening your hair to stand on end. You never found any evidence of rodents or even spiders, only a thin layer of dust that blanketed the entirety of the house.

Though there had been an attempt to add electricity to the estate, power surges and complete blackouts rendered it useless. All wiring would alight until it was charred and unusable and bulbs burnt out within days. Things often overloaded and it was a gamble whether or not the outlet you were using would choose to spark. There was a backup generator but it was in worse condition than the wiring and often didn’t work.

That meant that on nights like tonight, where the storm had knocked out your power –again– you had to rely on candles lit around the large manor. You were half sure that you contributed to most of the candle market in the small town.

The ancient Victorian home had belonged to an old noble family whose only surviving member had been assassinated. It had floated through many hands over the years, including yours. The house overlooked the nearby town, of course, that depended upon if the fog would break. The town itself was small and quaint, only a few hundred people and a few large families. Gossip spread fast and you did your best to click with the ‘in’ group. When your wi-fi wasn’t feeling spotty, you often texted with a few local people. They were in their twenties like you and were positively bored of the small amount of people that their hometown had to offer.

It was from them that you learned that the townspeople wholeheartedly believed that the restless spirit of the old manor lord haunted his home with a vengeance. At first you took it as a small town’s superstitions, nothing more than a fantasy or a spiraled rumor. You had lived there for about nine months but it was starting to get ridiculous.

Can you punch a ghost? Because if you can, you were totally going to. All you wanted was toast and tea. You were drinking tea because the ghost absolutely abhorred coffee and would spill your coffee grounds all over the hardwood floor. It didn’t matter where you put it or how tightly you secured it. Every morning you would come downstairs and find the brown powder spilled all over the floor like a crackhead had rifled through your cabinets. You thought, at first, that it might be the brand of coffee. But no, alas, it was the coffee itself. So you were now a tea drinker. Thanks, ghost.

Anyway back to the current toast issue. You had jumped back a split second before the sparks from the outlet would have reached your skin. Eyes blown wide, you could feel your entire body shaking. A second longer and you could have been dealing with multiple-degree burns. Unconsciously, you rubbed your bare arms over where the injury would have been. Suddenly the lights went out, encasing you in total darkness, save for the low silver light filtering through the windows, bathing what it touched in a blue tone.

You and this stupid ghost were going to have to have a chat.

Stomping angrily down the long hallway, you did your best not to huff the dust you were kicking up. You passed by countless amounts of old Victorian furniture, all in the same place they had been since being placed there over a hundred years ago. It was entirely in vain to try to move the furniture as any time you or any other previous owners had tried, you would just find it straight back in its spot the next morning. Save for the times that pieces would be moved just slightly so you would run into them or stub your toe.

A large portrait caught your eye even through your mad march. It was a painting of the lord of the house. Your current tormentor: Lord Arthur Kirkland. His toxic emerald eyes burrowed into your soul, curling inside and freezing you from the inside out. His shaggy blond hair framed his face, carved into a permanent scowl. Above his eyes lay two thick eyebrows. Oh great, the bane of your existence had caterpillars for eyebrows. He was wearing the ruffles and coats of the period but the tightness of the clothing had you gasping for air just looking at it.

Wait… Nothing filled your lungs when you tried to inhale. Fear struck itself across your face and you thrashed violently, scratching at the air in a desperate attempt to remove the block to your airflow. Finally, like sweet nectar, air rushed into your body and you collapsed to your knees. Tears had formed in the corner of your eyes and a single droplet fell down your soft cheek. Your face erected a scowl of your own as a strand of hair fell down in front. Okay, ghost. Now this was personal.

If this assholic spirit wanted to make your life a living hell, then you’d make its death a living hell.

“Oh it is on.” The fight had begun.

Clearly, he had a very strong hate for any change being done to his home. The constant destruction of cables and any other foreign objects made this clear. So you thought about it. What would a Victorian ghost hate more than anything to have in its house? Most of the decoration was already intricate and ornate to a slightly tacky degree. Then it hit you.

Grabbing your car keys, though quickly stopping to get dressed, you raced out the door towards the only home improvement and building store in town. It was run by a local family, as most things in town were, and you happened to be friends with the oldest son. Dashing through the front door, the brunet looked up at the sound of a jingle. He smiled and stepped out from behind the counter.

“Hey (Y/n),” he said, waving as you bounded over. “What brings you here?”

“Revenge,” you answered simply, stretching the upper half of your body to look at the wallpapers set up past him.

“Against who?” he asked, clearly not sure if he wanted to know.

“The ghost,” you responded, bouncing over to the racks of paper. “He tried to kill me and so I’m going to ruin his precious house.”

“He what!?” Ben’s face dropped. He spun you around and grabbed you tightly by the shoulders. “(Y/n) you can’t stay there anymore. If he’s actually trying to kill you…”

“Sure I can,” you reassured him, prying his arms off and patting him on the shoulder. “I’ve got it all figured out.”

He sighed, exasperated. “(Y/n) you can’t win this fight with house decor. Also if he’s hurting you...”

You ignored him and continued your perusing. “I’m hearing a lot of can’t and not a lot of can and that’s just not a growth mindset my dear Ben.”

“(Y/n) you are dealing with an angry and vengeful ghost who has now expressed interest in murdering you.” You felt the texture of an especially pink wallpaper between your thumb and index finger. “(Y/n) don’t ignore me.”

You sighed, turning back to look at the man. “If you’re really that worried” –he rapidly nodded his head like a dog– “then I guess you could come with me to put the wallpaper up.”

After a few moments of contemplation, he spoke in a defeated tone, “I’m not going to talk you out of this, am I?”

“Nope.”

You opened one of the double doors in a wide, exaggerated movement and it skidded into position with a thud. Humming, you trotted inside with Ben a few paces behind you carrying the roll of wallpaper and the bucket… and the brushes and everything else needed for this little makeover. The door slammed shut loudly after the two of you had reached the inside with no input from either of you. Though you were unbothered, Ben jumped and stood petrified like a deer for a moment. His eyes were wide but he reluctantly took another step, then another, then another and then quickly followed after you.

Hopping up the wide grand stairs, you watched as Ben struggled up the twin staircase with all of the materials. Once he reached the top, you were waiting for him and grabbed a singular paint brush daintily and then scampered into a large room.

Ben’s honey eyes went wide as he took in the grandeur of the room. The ceiling was inlaid with swirls of gold depicting handcrafted patterns that framed a large crystal chandelier. Heavy curtains hung above the imposing windows, filtering the little light that came through. Similar gold patterns continued on the wall, outlining the four walls bathed in a shade of dark, luxurious blue. That was a good word to describe the room: luxurious.

“Do you– Do you sleep in here?” Ben asked, astounded.

“Nah. I think it’s the ghost’s room and I’ve already had enough of him.”

“Then why are we doing it in here?!” You just gave him a smug look. “Right. Revenge.”

You snapped your fingers, having remembered something. “I forgot the glitter!” you exclaimed, leaping over towards the door. “I’ll be right back. Don’t have too much fun lovebirds!”

Snickering at your own teasing, you quickly hiked down the stairs and out towards your car. Left behind, Ben twiddled his thumbs, too nervous to sit down on anything for fear of offending the ghost. He chuckled nervously and swayed from one foot to the other. There was something in the room, he could feel it.

“So…” He paused, unsure of what to say. “That’s (Y/n) for you. Always running around with no sense of self-preservation.” He sighed, this wasn’t making him feel any better. “She’s like a little gremlin sometimes… an adorable little gremlin.”

You burst into the room, shouting at him, “Ben, I’m back!” He froze with fear for a second and you waved your hand in front of his face as he blue-screened. You spoke with a wispy and falsely ethereal voice, “Earth to Ben. We have revenge to do. And lunch. Definitely lunch.”

Once you got your things set up and prepared, you started to work right away. You made Ben take the high spots. He was like 6 '3, it would be a waste to have yourself do it. Standing back, you took a moment to admire your half-finished handiwork. It would be so ugly when finished. It was perfect.

“I don’t suppose I’m getting paid for this?” Ben asked, and you looked towards him.

You looked back at your masterpiece. “No.”

There it was. A full room covered entirely in four different wallpapers. On one wall, the first contender: leopard print. On the second: pink flamingos with googly eyes. On the third: something that could only be described as Picasso meets impressionism. And the fourth and final contender, the most ugly of all: banana leaf print that doesn’t match any of the other decorations in the room. Not to mention they’re all covered with glitter so no matter how much the ghost cleans, he’s never getting rid of the memory.

You snickered evilly in the background, rubbing your hands together like an old-timey villain. Suddenly, you snapped back to normal.

“You wanna get lunch?"

The two of you sat at a table outside, happily basking in the sunlight. Behind you was the dumbass manor you owned. It was surrounded by fog and looked cartoonishly evil. You were starting to understand why the townspeople disliked it so much. It interrupted the view.

“So–” You took a moment to ravenously take a bite and swallow it. “Why did your parents stock that hideous wallpaper anyway?”

“For people like you, (Y/n). People like you.”

Because you felt bad, only a little, you decided to pay for lunch. Ben still tried to insist upon paying but every time he got close to the check, you would swat his hand away. He drove you back up to your house and the two of you ended up sitting on a porch swing. It wasn’t original to the house but it was one of the only additions the ghost seemed to approve of.

“You know,” you started, swinging the bench. Ben lifted his legs up so it could move. “I think I figured out the ghost’s problem.”

“Really?” Ben questioned, humoring you. “What is it?”

“Well, he never got married, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Given the time period, that probably means he never… you know, too.”

“(Y/n), really?” Ben face-palmed.

You argued back with impassioned earnestness, “No, no, no, no. Hear me out on this. He’s like all mad and angry and stuff because he’s a bitch loser virgin boy.”

Something cracked in the background.

Ben tried his best to stifle his laughter and push down the smile threatening to stretch itself across his face. “I’m– pfft– pretty sure that the ghost– pfft– is not upset because he’s a–” He stopped for a moment to center himself. “–a ‘bitch loser virgin boy.’” He airquoted your words and you harrumphed, crossing your arms.

“Fine. What do you think then?”

He blinked at you, almost as if asking ‘are you serious?’ “He got murdered, (Y/n). My guess would probably be that.”

“Orrrr.” You dragged out your ‘r.’ “Maybe we’re both right.”

Ben sighed, agreeing with you if not to just end the conversation before the ghost decided to kill you both. You waved him off about a half hour later and headed back inside. Though you wanted to check in on your ‘artwork,’ you didn’t really want to run directly into the spirit again.

Walking through the manor, you found yourself in front of another portrait of the man. He looked as judgemental as ever, his lime green eyes piercing even as an inanimate photo. You don’t know why you talked to it, or even why you stopped. But you did.

“You know…” you started, hugging yourself tight. “For a bitch loser virgin boy” –A ghastly hand illuminated in a cold blue glow stretched out for your neck– “You’re actually pretty cute.”

The hand froze in place. You blew a strand of hair out of your face, readjusting to take another look at the portrait.

“And for how ridiculous that clothing is, you kind of pull it off.” The hand backed away, the light dimming. “I know I keep making fun of your house but I wouldn’t have bought it if I thought it was ugly.” It was barely visible at all now. “I mean, sunshine and a working heater beyond a centuries-old fireplace might be nice but otherwise it’s actually a very nice home.”

You blinked up at the portrait. Somehow, the expression the lord was wearing seemed softer now. There was less disdain and more of a quiet loathing on his face. Nothing could fix those caterpillar eyebrows though.

“The coffee thing was annoying but I guess I’m healthier now because of it. I was really tired that first week though. Anyway…” you trailed off. “Thanks, I guess.” You sighed at what you thought was only yourself. “What am I doing? I should… take a nap.”

Soft breathing filled the room; it was utterly quiet besides the faint sound. Your face contorted into uncomfortable expressions from the rapidly dropping temperature and you curled into the heavy blankets of the large bed. Only your head remained above the covers, the rest below like a figure bobbing in the waves on the open sea. The sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, a low orange light just barely slipping through the mist. The copper colored light spread across the wooden floor and stopped at the edge of glowing, blue feet, creating a soft purple.

They stepped out of the light and into the shadow, the illumination of the azure color growing brighter with each passing step. A face appeared from the foot of the bed, slowly coming into view. Unkempt hair cut in every direction floated lightly, encapsulating the face of Arthur Kirkland, last lord of the Kirkland manor. He watched with calculating yet curious eyes, looking for any sign of guilt or deceptiveness. He found none.

Though the man walked to your side, it would better be described as gliding. The tailcoat pieces of his jacket hovered to the same slow rhythm as the rest of the loose articles on his body. He brought a gloved hand to your face, lightly brushing his fingers across your cheek. Your face contorted from the biting cold and he quickly drew his hand back.

A low thought crossed his mind. If he hovered his lips above yours, could he suck the warmth and life out of you? To make you like him? Arthur stopped himself. Those were improper thoughts. No matter the time period, he shouldn’t think that way, especially of a lady he was not in courtship with.

Still… No!

He suddenly faded out of existence, his presence slipping out of the crevices and with it, the freezing cold. The warmth had returned to the room and in response, you had pulled the covers back down to adjust to the temperature change. Thank goodness he left when he did, you were wearing a tank top. Shoulders, scandalous!

Ben called you the next day, worried about what might have befallen you and your tricks.

“So, is it still there?” he asked, voice scratchy over the phone.

“No. He took it down.” 

Ben sighed. “All that work for nothing.”

“Not nothing,” you said, sitting comfortably on the couch. “I think we finally called a truce.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. I guess I’m just too wonderful to hate.”

“Who are you talking to?” A third voice interjected.

“Oh I’m talking to Be–”

You dropped the phone.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n) are you there? (Y/–”

You weren’t listening, instead, you had slowly turned behind you, eyes wide as saucers and body as stiff as a board. There, in glowing blue glory, was the man from the paintings, bushy eyebrows and all. Blinking a few times, you kept expecting the visage to disappear every time you opened your eyes again. But he never did.

“Well don’t look so shocked now, love,” he huffed, crossing his arms and carrying that signature scowl.

“I– I– I–” It was your turn to bluescreen and the ghost rolled his green eyes, tapping his arm impatiently.

“I say, with how chuffed you were over that last stunt, I’d thought you’d have more to say than that,” he insulted, drifting through the couch and watching as you astonishedly followed him.

“(Y/n)?! (Y/n)?!” Ben implored through the phone.

“Oh, I recognize that voice,” Arthur answered his own question. “You can continue on with your nonsense conversation later.”

With a wave of his cerulean hand, you watched in horror as your phone short-circuited, sparked and then burst into flames. It was the threat of fire that knocked you out of your stupor and you quickly ran to the kitchen to grab the nearest fire extinguisher. The white foam drowned your phone but also safely put out the fire. You dug through the froth to find the piece of metal and silicon, uncaring for whether or not it got on you.

As soon as you got it, you dropped it again, the heat from the searing flames had left the metal as hot as if it had been outside on a summer’s day. The ghost seemed oblivious to your plight and as you shook your hands off, he waved one of his own and the floor returned to how it had been before. He looked towards you, cradling your steaming phone with a pair of oven mitts you had grabbed. You felt like crying and clearly the blond could tell.

“Oh don’t cry over spilled milk. You can just get another one.”

No. He was wrong. You couldn’t just get another one. Sure you could get another phone but you hadn’t backed up any of your pictures or videos or documents and there was no way in hell you possibly remembered all of those contacts. From the sorry state the melted rectangle was in, you could pretty much guess that the SIM card would be unsavable. Years worth of memories; gone.

The spirit looked down at you in slight curiosity; you weren’t usually this quiet. He watched as you silently stood up, solemnly placed the phone into the sink, removed and put away the mitts, and then quietly walked up the stairs and back to your claimed room.

You didn’t come back out for dinner. Or for breakfast the next morning. He hadn’t even blown out a fuse this time. By lunchtime, he could feel himself starting to get worried. Well not worried, because he couldn’t possibly be worried about you but simply concerned what your mental state might mean for the physical state of his house. You had lasted the longest out of his tenants because that's all you were: tenants. You didn’t own the house after all, he did. And he was quite sick of people thinking otherwise.

Suppertime rolled around and he still hadn’t seen you. Usually, you’d be trying to figure out how to make the microwave not explode or trying to watch the ‘television’ while you ate. He always knocked out the power when you did that. Dinner should be eaten at the table. He looked towards the kitchen. The one you had chosen as your primary was a servant’s kitchen and so was relatively smaller. It happened to house one of the few things he allowed to work in his house: the refrigerator. Even he could see the usefulness of such an advancement.

Arthur impatiently tapped his foot, it was now eight p.m. and this was around the time you liked to watch a movie or a television show. He didn’t enjoy having the loud television in his home but the drawing room you had chosen for it was far enough from the main foyer. Besides, sometimes you watched this ‘Dr Who’ story and he quite liked those nights. 

There was no one present to change the candles and it's not like the lights were in working condition so Arthur sat in darkness. He forgot how empty this felt. At nine, someone knocked on the door. He –invisible– watched as you slowly trudged down the stairs. You were wearing the same clothes as when he had last seen you and your hair was a mess. There were bags under your eyes but it was the kind from sleeping too much. You pulled open the door and looked up at Ben. The concerned look on his face became even worse as he watched you blink out of sync.

“(Y/n), are you okay?” he asked frantically, pulling you into a hug.

The front porch light flickered in and out.

You shrugged your shoulders, feeling the empty lightness of your stomach now that you were awake. Ben pulled apart from you, grabbing your face to look into your eyes. He rubbed his thumb over your eyebags and pulled you inside, uncaring for the ghostly apparition. After placing you on the couch and throwing a blanket over you, Ben ran to the kitchen to find some kind of food. His eye was temporarily caught on the burnt sockets all over the room but refocused on his mission. Though he wanted to make you something, he’d heard tales of the terror of the appliances in this place. Instead, he rifled through your cabinets and eventually just brought you a bag of marshmallows. He watched as you slowly chewed on the sugary fluff, stopping to take a sip out of the iced tea he brought you.

“What happened?” he finally asked, scooting closer. “I heard a voice and then you cut out.”

Instead of speaking properly, you pointed to the kitchen and mumbled out, “Sink.” 

Then you continued to gnaw on a marshmallow. Ben walked over, took a look inside the sink, stared with wide eyes for a moment, and then walked back to sit beside you again. The two of you stared ahead, not saying a word.

“Ghost did that?”

“... yeah”

“(Y/n) I think you should come live with me.”

You looked up at him with tired eyes.

“I–I mean.” He sighed. “I just really don’t think it’s safe for you here. And besides” –His cheeks were alight with a pink glow– “Would staying with me be so bad?”

A picture frame crashed down from the wall. 

Your heads snapped toward it and Ben pulled you closer unconsciously.

“I… I think you’re right,” you agreed with him, standing up to pack your things.

“I told you; this house is a lost cause,” Ben said, moving to help you.

The crystal chandelier high above glinted threateningly.

The two of you walked close together and as you walked under the hanging tree of diamonds, the strange shaking suddenly stopped. You didn’t take much so it didn’t take very long to pack. You insisted that you would be back after you gave the ghost time to ‘cool off’ but Ben seemed hesitant. The door closed with a creak and with it, the light.

From the shadows glowed a brilliant blue, forming into a humanoid shape. There, in all of his ghastly glory was Lord Arthur Kirkland. Alone again. A window cracked and he fixed it using magic with little thought.

As soon as you were gone the lord sank down. Past the servant’s quarters, past the locked doors and into the passageway that not even any of the other supposed ‘owners’ of the house had the key to. That’s because this door didn’t unlock with a key. Whisperings of Latin slipped out of his mouth and the runes in the door glowed and spun, turning until they clicked into place and the door slowly opened.

His magic may not have been as strong as it had been when he was alive but that didn’t mean that he didn’t still have deep and rooted connections to the ley lines that had been passed down through his family heritage. Books and papers flew open and danced around the room as he rushed through. He searched through ancient tomes until he found a heavy book covered in a thick layer of dust. His ghostly breath blew the grime away, revealing a brilliant ruby-red cover.

Arthur had never seen the point to attempt this before but now you had given him a reason. He was going to perform a resurrection spell.

On himself.

You couldn’t say that you hated the last couple of days. It was nice to be able to use modern appliances without the fear of them blowing up on you. Ben had taken time off of work to take care of you and you could feel the guilt piling up. You didn’t deserve him. Not to mention you were pulling possible profits away from his family’s store. They just gave you cheeky grins before poking and teasing you about a wedding. Small towns are just like that.

After literal hours of begging, Ben finally agreed to let you work with him in the shop. It allowed him to keep an eye on you and for you to feel less bad. Many of your friends stopped by and they were almost as bad as Ben’s family. It was still far more relaxing and less stressful than fearing that your phone charger would suddenly spark and electrocute you. You hadn’t gotten a new phone yet. You knew you needed one but it wasn’t exactly on the top of your priority list.

At the end of the week, you had been reorganized and shelving a collection of nails. Your ‘shift’ was almost over, which meant that Ben’s shift was almost over and you were positively buzzing with excitement for movie night. The bell jingled and you leaned over to shout ‘coming’ before shoving the last box of nails in and racing over.

Putting on your best customer service face, you spoke to the person who had come in, “Hi! Welcome in! What are you looking for–”

You stopped. Standing right there. In front of you. In the flesh was Arthur Kirkland. It couldn’t have been him, but it was. Who else would have that shaggy blond hair? Those horribly maintained eyebrows? Those piercing green eyes? You stuttered and buffered and the man just smiled amusedly at your short-circuiting.

“Why I’m looking for you of course,” he answered, taking a step forward.

You took a step backward. “You– you’re– you’re alive…” you gasped out, staring at him, completely stunned.

He wasn’t wearing the period clothing anymore, though what he was wearing still looked quite old. Instead, he had on just a dress shirt, black pants and similarly black shoes. When he grasped his hand around your wrist, you visibly shuddered from the cold but could not break free. You were locked in a staring match until Ben came to find you.

“Hey (Y/n)–” He froze.

“Oh good. I was looking for your dimwitted friend too,” he admitted, pulling you closer.

“Are you–” Ben stopped, looking on in disbelief.

“Goodness, you peasant people are just as slow as a hundred years ago,” Arthur huffed, rolling his emerald eyes.

Somehow, the next time you blinked you were back in the manor house. Ben was there too but he was knocked out and you couldn’t move to reach him. Arthur looked towards you, somewhat surprised to see you awake.

‘I guess my magic is still weak. It won’t matter after this,’ he thought, walking towards you.

More than anything, you wanted to struggle, you wanted to cry, you wanted to scream. But all you could do was watch. The blond snapped his fingers and you unfroze, becoming limp. Your limbs were still useless and Arthur seemed well aware of this as he carried you up the stairs. The two of you went past many rooms, including your own until you reached the site of your former masterpiece.

The door swung open and he waltzed in. The deep blue walls had returned to their normal extravagantness and there wasn’t a speck of glitter in sight. He gingerly placed you down on his bed, the soft mattress bending to your weight. You could do nothing but have your eyes reflect terror as the man manually tied your limbs to the bed. Finally, he placed a soft gag in your mouth and with it, you could feel the strange enchantment break. It wasn’t like your struggling could do anything anymore.

“Sorry, love.” He placed a kiss on your forehead and ran a hand through your loose hair. “I’ll need all the power I can get, so I can’t be expending it here.”

He walked away from your struggling form and quietly closed the door. None of your screams would make it through the walls of that room anyway. Arthur regally walked down the stairs to find his other captive missing. Instead of searching, he chose to stand completely still, hands crossed behind his back.

From the shadows, snuck a disoriented Ben, carrying the only chair he could lift. He smashed it into Arthur’s head, the impact shattering the wooden chair. The brunet expected to see blood and bits of gore. Instead, he came face to face with glowing green eyes, full of rage and jealousy. His jaw was slacked the wrong way but a simple movement clicked it back into place.

Ben dropped the remaining chair legs he had been holding onto and began to back up like a frightened deer. Arthur followed, slinking after him like the apex predator he was.

“You see,” Arthur started, stepping closer. “I’m not exactly alive per se. At least not yet. I’m on borrowed time, unfortunately.” He cornered the man. “Lucky for me, so are you.”

The next time you saw Arthur he looked different. He looked alive. His chest moved up and down, he blinked at regular intervals and you could see blood flushing through his body. Most of all, he was warm. So comfortingly warm.

Eventually, those thoughts faded and you laughed internally at ever thinking that Arthur could have been dead. He looked like a distant relative who had once owned the manor and shared a name. But he wasn’t. He was a different Arthur Kirkland, one who had come from London to learn that he should have been entitled to the estate. That’s when he found you, the person who had recently bought the house. That’s when you fell in love and… there’s something you feel like you’re forgetting.

There was always someone you felt like you were forgetting. No one in the town knew either so you had always assumed it to be a bad dream that stayed with you. Arthur had always encouraged you to forget and move on, but it always stuck with you.

Arthur had helped you properly install appliances and electricity in the house that wouldn't almost kill you and/or burn down the house. Well, he hired someone to make that happen but it was close enough. It always felt so nice to be able to flip a light switch and watch the room light up in a comforting yellow glow, though there were some days where the blond man did insist upon candles. You didn’t know why you flinched when the lights flickered or when the fire on the stove got too hot but Arthur was always just around the corner to watch you. He seemed to enjoy doing that.

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the sounds of his heartbeat and feeling the movement of his chest. The constant fog that surrounded the manor finally dissipated and the two of you were peacefully watching the sunset on the porch swing. Arthur was rocking the bench lightly and the gentle swaying movement threatened to put you to sleep.

“Don’t fall asleep now on me, love,” he laughed lightly, lifting your head to look at him.

Grumbles came out of your mouth instead of words and you burrowed yourself back into his warm chest. He just shook his head and looked towards the fading light.

“Do you still think I’m a ‘bitch loser virgin boy?’” he asked in a teasing tone, running his hand through your hair.

Stretching, you readjusted yourself to situate your head higher, closer to his shoulder. He took in a deep breath, smelling the (smell) shampoo you had used. After yawning, you gave him an answer.

“Hmm... Yes,” you answered tauntingly, closing your eyes again.

He chuckled, continuing his brushing motions through your hair. “Not for very long, love. Not for very long.”

[mellifluouaamor]

ENGLAND ⍣ GENDER-NEUTRAL READER

synopsis. he tries to kabe-don you but ultimately fails.

with a skip in your step, you walked up to ireland and pinched the back of his green shirt, pulling on it like a child trying to get their father's attention. feeling your persistent tugs, the irish man turned his head with an arched eyebrow and the moment he recognised you, his lips curved into a friendly smile.

"dia dhuit, (y/n)! you look like you're in a good mood," he remarked, only to blink when you suddenly shoved a book into his face. he immediately took a step back, startled by your sudden enthusiasm. "wh-what's this?"

"you've gotta read this light novel that japan let me borrow. it's so good!" you said, opening the book as you begin explaining the plot of the story so far to him.

sitting two rows behind you, england perked up upon hearing your remark, the hand holding his rose-patterned teacup pausing in mid-air. after germany had proposed for a break in the middle of the chaotic world meeting, he had been observing you, intently watching you chat away with japan as he presented you with one of his light novels. he wondered why you're so obsessed with japan's light novels and was a tad bit curious about the one you're trying to get ireland into. however, he's been struggling to work up the courage to approach you these days, which left the englishman quite frustrated with himself. he's afraid that you might reject his attempts to talk to you and act very passive-aggressive towards him; he'd rather save himself from the heartbreak.

"aww..."

having been so preoccupied with his thoughts, england didn't notice that ireland had left you to continue reading on your own. the soft giggle you let out as you flipped the page made his heart flutter inside his chest, and france, who spotted the red tint dusting his cheeks, gave him a disturbed look before quietly scooting his chair away from him.

"i really want to go kyun kyun like the high school girl in the story... when will i meet someone who can make my heart go doki doki?" you mused with a sigh.

england was perplexed by the unfamiliar terminology you had mentioned. lowering his teacup on the saucer, he pondered the words with a hand on his chin.

what does "kyun kyun" and "doki doki" mean?

❀

japan was surprised when england approached him to ask about the japanese onomatopoeia frequently used in his media.

"hmm... to put it simply, kyun kyun is the momentary tightening of one's chest caused by powerful feelings. it's meant to sound like your heart is getting squeezed, and is used most commonly in a romantic context," japan said.

"you say that it's supposed to be romantic, but that sounds terrifying instead!" england exclaimed, slightly shaken by the thought of his heart literally getting squeezed, "and doki doki?"

"doki doki is the sound of a heart that's beating fast."

"i see. then how do i make (y/n) go kyun kyun?" he asked, making america who was sitting next to him spit out his cola.

as japan suppressed the laughter that was bubbling up in his throat, he replied in a shaky voice, "y-you probably want to do the kabe-don to them then. it's a gesture that prevents escape - you just have to use all of your strength to trap them against a surface."

england knitted his eyebrows together as he tried to visualise what he's to do. "use all of my strength to trap them against a surface? that sounds rather... barbaric." but it definitely sounds like something he would have done during his olden days as a brutish pirate. "i suppose it wouldn't hurt to try..."

as soon as he left to search for you, america grabbed japan's shoulders and proceeded to shake his soul out of his body. "yo, why did you have to give him that idea?! it's totally not going to end well!"

the englishman easily found you strolling through the corridor just outside of the meeting room, holding a drink in one hand and the light novel in the other. he waited until you were close enough before calling your name, prompting you to lift your gaze from the book; the moment your eyes met, england shoved you against the door beside you as his hands landed on either side of your head with a resounding slam. you shrieked, the sheer terror you felt writing itself all over your face as you dropped the things you were holding, your drink spilling all over his polished shoes.

your reaction was the complete opposite of what he had hoped to elicit from you, and the commotion got the countries inside the meeting room curious. some poked their heads out the door only to see england cornering your terrified self, causing them to gawk at the sight as misunderstandings began to brew in their minds.

"m-mr england, did i upset you somehow?" you timidly asked. his eyes widened when he picked up on the fear laced in your voice, and to add insult to injury, ireland walked past the two of you, muttering what a "weirdo" he is.

[hwsing]

Thoughts about pegging the allies and mayhaps Italy 🧍‍♂️

pegging? pegging!

notes: 18+, top reader and bottom characters. includes: america (alfred), canada (matthew), france (francis), england (arthur), china (yao). i think some of my opinions on this are unpopular but pls don’t attack me for it lmaoo, as always, reblogs are appreciated!

cw: talk about pegging, slightly toxic views on sex (ivan)

first of all, those who would be most interested in it would be francis who is just kinky as fuck, feliciano who is down to roll around however and yao who is so old and easily bored nowadays that you have got to switch it up often anyways. the least would be ivan, who is just overall not a super big fan of bottoming and arthur who is similar and just. struggles to get into most things involving toys. alfred and matthew are in the middle area.

francis loves sex. something has to be really bewildering for him to be particularly opposed — hell, it’s likely that he brought it up himself if you’re more hesitant to. if you bring it up first, he’s pleasantly surprised and causally agrees; he has high expectations! but, honestly, even if you suck at it, he just takes it as an opportunity to teach you. he’ll tell you how to fuck him right through his breathy, soft moans, encouraging and awfully sweet about the whole thing. but, if you do know what you’re doing or are more confident, he’s more than happy to take it. he actually cums a lot harder when something is in his ass to be honest. he’d most certainly want it to become a more regular thing.

like francis, yao might end up bringing this up himself. he is old and, honestly, very few things shock him. he’s not someone who needs super niche hardcore stuff to get off, but he thinks it’s beneficial for everyone involved to switch things up often enough!! he’s used to bottoming to begin with, so this is by no means his first rodeo. bigger the better

alfred is not very opinionated about these things, to be honest. by default, he likes getting his dick wet, so he doesn’t think about bottoming very often. when presented with the idea, though, he’s by no means opposed! he takes it like a champ, and if you didn’t already have it, he got plenty of lube! would be very embarrassed by the fact he got fucked though. he doesn’t really have a reason to be, he just gets flustered if you remind him outside of the bedroom

ivan isn’t inherently particularly dominating in intimacy, but he very much likes to be the one deciding the pace with sex. and while you can argue that bottoming isn’t a forfeit, because that’s true to him it feels like it. he’s just…. very stubborn and would likely be dismissive of the idea. if he trusts you a LOTTTTT i think he’d be more open to the idea. you’ll have to unlock ivan level 99 first though. good luck adventurer

i was having very mixed feelings on matthew. i do think he’d be down though. at least post 2020 matthew would be. prior to that, i dont think he’d be downright opposed to it, but he doesn’t entirely get it…. once it happens though, he doesn’t think it’s a huge deal. doesn’t love the feeling (just isn’t really into the feeling if the toy, thinks its a bit uncomfy regardless of lube) but if your thrust game is good enough it can compensate for the toy feeling!

arthur has bottomed before, but it was almost, if not just straight up always, because his companion for that night had a willy and refused to bottom themselves. arthur isn’t against it, even if it isn’t what he naturally gravitates towards — but… pegging? maybe a younger, more adventurous arthur would be a bit intrigued, but the man barely accepts that vibrators can help spice things up. he just… struggles to see the point, but he’s likely to try it out if you two are long term partners. i can’t see him being very into it, but he’ll indulge you once in a blue moon to please you because he loves you <33

[brianlesshetaliawritings]

Hey, I saw you wanted some requests. So, can I have how the Allies act when they have a crush? ✨Thank you✨

Allies when they have a crush

note: sorry it took so long. it was england's fault, i hate british people (joke ofc). oh also probably mischaracterized a lot. (sorry again)

England

He's trying to be subtle, but he really isn't.

Tries to wait it out until it goes away. It wasn't a success

Would eventually try and show how cool he is, did you know he met Henry the VIII?

You get to munch on his speciality too! Burnt crumpets with some british tea. Please tell him it's good.

Doesn't mean he'll suck up to you though! You’re not special, or anything.. (Yes u very much are)

He’s trying to be impressive and cool without making it obvious.

Not really showboating though. He just wants to prove he can be a reader’s man, not Superman.

America

Y’know how I said England won’t showboat? Yeah well, this guy will.

He’d try and show you how strong he is by inviting you to hang out with him while he works out. (He doesn’t even work out usually, he just wants to look badass)

Would take you out often, not like a date of course. Just lunch, Y’know?

Also trying to be a reader’s man. He’ll hold the door open or pull your chair out for you.

Gets you very nice gifts that he knows you’ll love, he tries to remember your likes.

He will attempt to sneak his hand into yours when you two walk together

Always offers (and ends up) helping you when he thinks you need it

France

He twirls his hair and kicks his feet while talking to you on the phone.

Would love to cook you something good to eat, he tries extra hard to make sure you enjoy the dish he makes. (He’ll be glancing at you to see your reaction when eating it)

Takes you to the different beauties throughout his country

This might be off topic, but I feel like he adores people with strong admirable qualities.

He would like to take you shopping with him. You don’t have to though, but he will still try and dress you up. He just finds it fun.

Very affectionate with you, he keeps an arm around you when walking or sitting together.

He won’t flirt with anyone anymore now that you’re his main romantic focus.

China

The fact he even has a crush is kinda wild, but here he is. Anyways, I feel like he’d be good at hiding it for awhile (until he chooses not to anymore).

Once he’s stopped hiding it as much he’ll start giving you nice gifts. (Necklaces, snacks you like, things that reminded him of you.)

He’ll take you to gardens and temples so you can enjoy his culture, he just likes them and hopes you do too.

Plays the role of your (ancient) best friend who gives amazing advice and comforts you when your in pain.

He would listen to anything you say, and if it seems like he isn’t paying attention, he really is.

Might be a bit off topic, but he definitely gives you the most gifts on your birthday. Expect 20 of those bitches when you wake up.

Not much else to comment on, he does his role in your life well.

Russia

It’s pretty easy to tell he likes you for the most part, but you’d somehow never be able to tell he’s interested in you, though others might. (the baltics and his sisters)

The type to put on a scary movie if you’re scared of them, so you can hold onto him when startled.

He likes to go on walks with you, no specific area, it can be the park or in the middle of nowhere. He doesn’t really care where.

Very much a big fan of being affectionate with you. He likes to hug you a lot, sometimes the hugs feel like he’s strangling the life out of you, and sometimes they’re gentle and sweet.

Also holds your hand often, but he ain’t even sneaky about it. Just does it to be sure you’re there, he’s always a bit worried you’re gonna abandon him.

He’s also pretty protective of you and wouldn’t let a single thing harm you physically or emotionally.

Gets along with your parents very well, he’s a sweet gentleman to you.

Canada

Everyone knows. Everybody. Knows. His crush is no secret, but that doesn’t make it any less adorable.

He loves you because you remember him every time, and he appreciates that more than you can fathom.

Trying to be the bestest bud you can have, would love to have lazy Sundays with you where all you do is pancakes and movies.

He likes to check up on you often to see how you’re doing, would do anything to make you happy if you’re sad.

The type of guy who’ll invite you camping or hiking. He enjoys the outdoors and would appreciate if you enjoyed them with him.

He gets you loads of stuffed animals, he’d probably spend forever at a claw machine trying to win you a prize.

Kumajirou likes you, and you two get along well. When Canada mentions his crush on you to him, he’ll encourage him to confess.

[hetaliaimaginesin2022]

How would the allies do with a super wealthy s/o (another country) who likes to spoil them? Their s/o gives them gifts, takes them out to dates and if they want something their s/o will get it for them regardless of the price

This is so cute, boys definitely deserve to get pampered too

America • Alfred Jones

Frankly, he revels in this sort of treatment and quickly finds himself liking the presents, dates, and overall positive attention

While he doesn't do it too often, he's really one of the only countries who will ask you for things (he makes it quite clear that you can and should do the same too)

Definitely makes jokes about being your future trophy husband

Canada • Mathew Williams

He's a bit uncomfortable with the big, expensive presents, and it takes a while for him to be comfortable expressing that to you, it's not that he doesn't like them, it's just that it's a lot at once to get use to

He does like the dates though

While he typically prefers smaller outside dates, when you take him to the sort of restaurants with glittering chandeliers, gorgeous interior decor, and incredible food it makes his heart race a bit

He likes dressing up and going, your arm in his, these kinds of dates make him feel important, loved, and seen

China

He tells you bluntly that, while he appreciates the gesture, he finds the gifts more on the unnecessary side, and would much rather prefer something that could be useful (he doesn't mind the occasional cute plush though)

He doesn't dislike your attention, but seeing as he's been around for over four thousand years, the drawl of pretty stones or expensive clothing is kind of lost on him

He quite enjoys the dinner dates though

England

Because he can be quite traditional, part of him finds it a bit embarrassing, especially when you're the one pulling out your card to pay for dinners, his face heats up and he mumbles out a quiet 'thank you, darling'

You will get a similar response if you get him gifts too

He really does love them, he's just not completely use to being treated like that

His favorite gifts aren't the big expensive ones, though, they're the little things you get that make you think of him, like flowers or a book he's been looking forward to reading

France • François Bonnefoy

François adores spoiling his partners, so he'd love nothing more than to date someone who reciprocates that

While he's not someone who gravitates towards things specifically for the price tag alone, he is known for being able to appreciate the finer things in life and he really appreciates everything

As a thank you gift, he will often get you flowers or take you on dates (he loves recieving flowers too though, and would be soaring if his partner got him some)

This is a side note, but if you like the idea, he'd want to get a few coordinating outfits with you, he finds them endearing

Russia • Ivan

Out of the 6, he's the one who likes this treatment the most

The big gestures, the expensive dinners? He very well could pay for them by himself, but it's like you're going the extra mile to express your feelings for him, so he absolutely loves it

He also reciprocates this by giving you equally exorbitant gifts and taking you to expensive dinners too

He wants to make you feel just as loved as you make him feel

[mimimyluv]

Hetalia y/n’s have to stand together, how about England x Reader where y/n admires his tattoos?

anon bless your heart because this lead me down a path of picturing arthur as a prep with secret tattoos and i promptly blacked out. when i woke up i ended up with this oneshot. i hope you enjoy and may your meals always be delicious and your pillow always cold (or warm depending on how you like it lol). also i wasn't sure if you wanted smut, so it's sfw (just to be safe). but it's still suggestive. if you wanted full-blown smut tho just lmk 👍

⏆﹒⬚﹒🍏﹒➲﹒reader admiring arthur's tattoos; gn! reader (nothing specified), 800 words/4k characters, fluff with some suggestive themes. lowercase intended.

the contrast is interesting, you muse.

your lover’s always projected a proper– if not a tad pretentious– image of the quintessential upper-class english man. he has all his clothes and shoes tailored; every thread and button perfectly bespoke (the extra costs just for suit jackets can be somewhat incomprehensible, but he always assures you it is a perfectly good investment. you never complain too much– not when he’s so damn handsome in those same bespoke suits).

he drinks his tea with a pinky up; always, always with the fine, intricately painted porcelain (an antique dating back to the victorian era, he often tells you).

he rubs elbows with the upper echelons of london society; engaging in those stereotypical, hoity-toity activities only people with money to burn can do (polo, horseback riding, fucking golf… it would make you laugh if it weren’t for his tall, elegant frame, with the lean, subtle musculature of the ideal english sportsman).

but beneath that proper exterior, though– there’s something more passionate, something more untamed lurking. while arthur often keeps that side of him under wraps, you have the privilege of being privy to it in numerous ways.

you’re reminded of it as you laze next to him in his sheets, basking in the post-sex afterglow. his back is to you, you can fully take in the smattering of golden freckles across his fair skin, and… oh.

“i haven’t seen this one before.”

you trace your fingers along the merfolk inked on his back. you try to summon some hazy memories from a past gallery date with arthur– ah, yes. it’s a near-identical replica of john william waterhouse’s mermaid, except…

it’s you. replacing the mermaid combing her long, auburn hair is you. you’re in that same, languid pose, with just a long white fabric draped tightly along your body to preserve the barest modicum of modesty. somehow, though– with the sultriness of your eyes, the curve of your bare neck and shoulders– this remaster of waterhouse’s mermaid somehow seems more… suggestive.

“do you like it?” he murmurs, turning over to face you. his forest-green eyes are lidded, light, feathered lashes nearly resting on the top of his freckled cheeks. this is the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him; your heart leaps for a split second.

“a tattoo of me?” you say, mock-dryly. still, your face is warm, and you can’t help but smile. “i thought you hated cliches.”

“ah, well.” suddenly, he’s blushing too. his freckles are even more stark against his skin; you barely resist the urge to trace your thumb all over them. “some… can be alright.”

you grin.

“when did you get this?”

“a few weeks after our date to the tate.”

you can’t help but snort out a laugh, fond.

“and you said you were done with tattoos, hm?”

“when i saw that painting,” the pinkness of his cheeks deepen, “i just couldn’t stop seeing you. so one last tattoo couldn’t hurt, i suppose.”

“mhm, it’s not like i mind,” you whisper, drawing a hand down to trace the tudor roses and ivy inked along his ribs, “you know i love your tattoos, arthur.”

“perhaps that’s why i had it done,” he laughs raspily, “you might only want me for my tattoos. needed something to keep the spark alive, don’t you think, my dear?”

“don’t be an idiot.” you lightly chastise him, then draw him closer for a kiss, bracing him by your hand on the back of his head. unlike the heated, passionate kisses you two shared earlier, he moves his mouth against yours slowly and indulgently; the kind of kiss that could lull you to slumber after a long day.

“let me see it again, then.” you say against his lips, quiet and muffled. he smirks, uncharacteristically roguish.

“i believe you just proved my earlier point.”

“oh, shut up.”

he complies anyway, shifting so you can see his back; this time, you can study it more clearly. your face, stark as day– maybe it’s corny, but you can’t help the way your heart leaps at the sight. proper, upper-class arthur kirkland being lovestruck enough to have you permanently inked on his skin, even when he’s eschewed tattoos and everything that can be linked to delinquency in favor of his image. there’s just something truly… amazing about it.

“i wanna see the rest.” you mumble. he rolls over, pretending to grumble.

“maybe you really are just with me for my tattoos, love.”

you ignore him and look over the rest of his tattoos– the tudor roses and ivy on his ribs; the plantagenet lions on his left shoulder; a hobbes’ quote– a great leap in the dark– on his right forearm.

and now, the portrait of you as waterhouse’s mermaid on his back.

“i do love your tattoos, arthur.” you quietly repeat, settling down next to him. you draw nearer, hooking a leg over his body and resting your head against his chest; his heartbeat thrums in a consistent pitter-patter right next to your ear.

“but i love you more.”

he’s silent, but he combs his fingers– long, graceful, and work-worn– through your hair.

“i love you too.”

“yeah.” you smile drowsily. you can see yourself as a merfolk in your hazy mind's eye, forever inked on his back. “i know.”

[hetalia-fannn]

Face family headcannons where their s/o tried to give them chocolates for Valentine’s Day but the s/o accidentally ate them in their sleep and they woke up to a empty box of chocolates to give

Sure!

Sorry, it's late!

-

Hetalia - Himaruya

Characters: Aph France, Aph America, Aph Canada, Aph England -> Face family

Genre: Fluff

Reader: Gender-neutral

france gif cuz why not lol

Aph Face Family's reaction to you eating the chocolate you were supposed to give them on Valentines: (Under the cut!)

P.S: Instead of writing a whole one for all of them, I decided it'd be better if I seperated each of their headcanons.

France:

When you realised you ate all the beautiful chocolate you reserved for France to give him on Valentines while you were sleeping, you couldn't find a way to keep yourself calm since you literally ate them all!

Now you were wondering of ways to get him new chocolates, but it was too late, France knocked on your door already.

You didn't know what to do, since you were all day saying him you prepared a surprise gift which was the chocolate.

"Mon S/o, it's finally Valentines are you ready for our date~?"

"I also wonder about these chocolates you said tasted amazing and especially bought for me~"

With that, you just figured it out you couldn't lie on this situation which would only make him sad. So you just,

"France, it makes me so embarrassed to say this but... I actually ate them in my sleep! And now there is just an empty box.."

You thought it would make him feel dissapointed in you, but then you heard France's giggling.

"Mon S/o! That's in fact a little funny of you~ But I don't really mind it at all! Forget them, let's just go out for our date~"

You smiled, you guessed it was just some overthinking, luckily your date with him went perfect!

America:

IT.WAS.ALL.EMPTY.

The chocolate box was literally empty as a desert.

You weren't really a sleepwalker, but it looked like you were a sleepeater. The chocolates you wanted to give to America were gone, he always gave you the best gifts, and you wanted to do the same.

But with your "luck", the worst happened.

You knew he had a sweet tooth, your homemade Valentines chocolate would really be the best gift ever, and sad thing was you didn't have time to make them again.

So you just went him to confess what actually happened. Damn how could you even say that you ate all of his chocolate?!?

America shouted when he saw you, "HEYY S/o How are doing???"

"Are you ready for Valentines??? CUZ I AM!!"

"I am as well, but I accidentally ate all your chocolate ><"

"Oh really? Well I don't mind!! Now that's my chance to take you to chocolate shop!!"

Well, he wasn't bothered at all, knowing him, that would be the best date for you.

Canada:

Canada was someone who didn't really mind small mistakes, he was always grateful for every little thing in life.

So you, eating all the chocolate you got for him wouldn't really be a problem for him, you thought.

But at the same time, you just couldn't believe yourself for doing that, looked like it was your first time learning you had the ability to eat even while you were sleeping!

He was an understanding person, you really admired him for that, so maybe he wouldn't really mind what happened either.

While going to the park you two really liked, you were thinking whether to tell him the truth or not.

Obviously, he noticed it, he always paid attention to you which was lovely.

"Hey S/o, is there something bothering you? You haven't really spoken any word on our way.."

You couldn't resist, "Yeah... I accidentally ate all your chocolate, it was special for you, I can't believe I made this mistake.."

You looked at his face only to see his calm and heart warming smile, "It's okay S/o, chocolates aren't really important as you, why don't we make ours together instead?"

England:

This made you all blush, "Yes, of course!"

You loved how he always like that...

Tea time with England, truly one of the best date for you two.

Except, it would be better if you didn't eat all the chocolate??!? While you were sleeping?!?!? How did that even happen?!?!?

These thoughts were all in your head, maybe you were too excited for your date that you ate them all while you were sleeping.

Was it because you were thinking about him? You asked to yourself. Didn't notice England was calling you twice.

"Hey S/o, you there?" Out of your thoughts immediately, you answered "Y-yes! I am! I was just- nevermind..."

"Not the nevermind when there is completely something bothering you. Is it about the chocolates you ate last night?"

You were shocked when you heard that, how did he know?

"Oh my, how did you learn..?"

"I heard some noises in the kitchen, and saw you eating all the chocolates, I thought you were hungry, so didn't say anything."

"But why...? They were all for you, and I ate them all, wouldn't that make you feel dissapointed in me..?"

"And why would it? I found you very cute that moment, and didn't bother you or myself heh"

You blushed, maybe chocolates weren't that important anyways.

"Anyways, let's continue our tea time"

You nodded while feeling happy.

-

Okay so rereading this, I guess it might be a little ooc, I hope it doesn't matter. And I also hope you'll like it! :") Again sorry for replying lately, hope it's how you wanted!

[milkemim]

Day 5: Sledding and Snowmen

Word count: 1466

Link to all chapters

---------------------

Today is the 5th of December. It was also a super secret allies meeting- one that [Name], the honorary member, was of course invited to. Everyone met up at Russia’s house. The meeting was almost over and all the important topics and bickering was pretty much done.

China sighs as another fight breaks out between Enlgand and France. He looked over at [Name] who was sitting next to him. “I swear, these meetings would be at least 75% faster if those two could keep themselves from going at each other's throats over every other sentence.” He says.

“I think the sound is nice. It brings a certain livelihood to my house that I never see otherwise.” Russia joins into the conversation and smiles.

“Of course you do. I was not talking to you!” China crosses his arms over his chest. “Westerners are so nosy.”

[Name] laughs a little and pats China’s shoulder. “I like it too. Their fights are amusing, and it keeps me from falling asleep sometimes. Also it keeps America quiet… Mostly. It’s a nice break from all the seriousness.”

“The America part is true.” China says.

“Hey! What American part is true?!” America, who perked up at hearing his name, asked excitedly.

China sighs again and lowers his head, closing his eyes.

“Oh, just that we like hearing you talk.” [Name] smiles at him. “You’re not annoying at all. Never.”

“Well, of course! There’s many reasons why I’m the greatest country, and one of them is my incredible charisma and charm!”

“I do not think that is what [Name] said at all…” Russia quietly says.

Before the conversation could go on any longer, France and England bring the swords out.

“Hey, hey, hey! Let’s argue about this in a diplomatic way, no need for violence!” America steps between them, “Think about what Russia would do to you for fighting at his house and accidentally breaking something…” He quietly says to just the two of them. It thankfully seemed to snap the two out of it despite their anger enough to put the swords away

“I still hate you! Don’t think this means anything!” England glares at France.

“Shut up, black sheep of Europe! This is not nearly over!”

[Name] stands up and walks over to the two as well. “I know how to solve this! With mild violence.”

“I’d prefer no violence at all…” Poor Canada says, though no one seems to hear him.

“A snowball fight!” They triumphantly say.

“That seems like a good idea, actually…” France notes and England nods.

“Uhm… If I may interrupt, it’s a good idea, but most of the snow today is really hard and frozen. You two might get really injured.” Russia says, a little worried about the idea. “I kind of don’t want my house to get that reputation.”

“Oh…” [Name] pronounces, “Well, let’s go sledding instead! Overcome the anger with, uh, joy!” They smile and put their hands on their hips.

“I wanna go sledding too!” America shouts. “It’ll be extra fun since it’s frozen too!”

China looks back up and watches everyone get excited about sledding. With just a little encouragement from America and [Name], both the fighting parties agreed to it- but only on the count that they have a sledding match to prove the victor of today’s battle. “I am not coming. I’d rather stay inside where it’s warm.”

[Name] managed to get him outside too, though they had to borrow him their hat and gloves. Thankfully Russia also lended [Name] some spare winter clothing too.

Everyone followed Russia’s lead to the best mountain that wasn’t too far. [Name] got the privilege to ride in one of the sleds while they walked. France and England tried to fight over who gets to pull them, as a dominance tactic, but America ended up sliding in while the two were busy arguing and was ultimately the one to pull them along. Neither England or France were happy with the outcome.

“I’ll ride the winners sled back, okay? Just stop fighting…” [Name] assures. France and England share a look, now even more determined to win their epic sledding match. “Also, before you start arguing over the rules, I’ll make them! The one to reach the bottom first wins. You don’t get to call another person to push you down the hill, you’ll just have to have a running start yourselves and if you try to break the rules or play dishonorably you lose immediately!” They strictly explain.

Everyone agrees with the rules and soon everyone arrives at the mountain, which was actually just a little hill.

“Before we start the battle, I’d like to have a little bit of practice.” England says.

“Okay, 30 minutes of practice and warm up for both parties!” America says and France and England both already begin running up the hill. “Okay so, who’s betting on who?”

“We’re betting? Also, I think 30 minutes is a little too much time for a sledding competition…” [Name] steps up from the sled and joins the little circle of America, China and Russia. Along with Canada, but he was not really in the circle, but outside of it. “I don’t know… How much are we talking about?”

“I am not betting over something as childish as sledding! Especially between those two.” China says.

“I think England will win.” Russia smiles.

“I’ll bet 20 on France then!” America exclaims cheerfully.

“20 what?? Dollars? Euros, rubles, yuan?” [Name asks].

“I definitely do not think it’s either of the last two…” China mumbles.

“20 American dollars, of course!” America.

America bets on France, Russia bets on England, [Name] bets on [Your Bet] and China refuses to participate. Canada’s opinion is not asked.

Meanwhile England and France were practicing their sledding techniques, the rest of the allies decide to build snowmen. America was teaming up with Russia to make a really big one and China just went to rest in one of the sleds, but later he would go on to make a little snowpanda.

“Oh, Canada! Don’t think I forgot about you!” [Name] smiles at him and approaches him.

“Ah! M-me?” His eyes sparkle a little and he looks at [Name] hopefully.

“Yes. You. Let’s make something too. How about… A snow-polar bear! And then after, if we have time, we could make a cool big maple syrup snow sculpture.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun! Thank you…” He happily says.

The two managed to make a pretty convincing polar bear, though it wasn’t very big.

“It could be a little polar bear cub.” Canada says, looking at it from next to [Name].

“Yeah. That’s really cute, Canada.” They look at him and smile. “I think ours is much better than whatever America and Russia are trying to make.” They look over to the other two. Their snowman was a little disfigured and it seemed like they got into an argument and couldn’t find a compromise while building it.

Time went by quickly and soon it was time for France’s and England’s competition. Canada and America were at the bottom of the hill, to be able to watch who makes it through the little drawn finish line on the ground first. At the top of the cliff were [Name] and Russia, as well as the contestants of course. China had climbed up too for the occasion.

“Are the contestants ready?” [Name] asks.

“I’m ready.” England nods and gets in position.

“Ready!” France gets in position as well.

“Ready… Set… Go!” [Name] shouts.

The two both run until the hill tilts enough to remain at a good speed. It was a close battle and both contestants sledded down with fast speeds, especially with the icy snow.

“The winner is… France! Hooray!!” America cheers. Canada nods, agreeing that France was the true winner.

Russia sighs. “Do I really have to pay him…?”

“You shouldn’t have bet.” China says to him.

“Let’s think about that when we’re down the hill! It’s our turn now!” [Name] says, also wanting to sled down the hill. They urge China onto a sled and sit behind him. “Give us a push, Russia!”

Russia giggles and pushes them down. He follows them down with his own sled after. China may or may not have screamed a little from the unexpected amount of speed. “I was not expecting it to go down that fast…”

Afterwards, everyone got to sled happily as friends and not competitors, though England and France stopped after a few rounds, being already tired from practicing the perfect technique to win the battle. There was surprisingly little arguing, bitterness and bragging about the winner. The sledding had calmed their anger.

It was overall a fun conclusion to the ally meeting, even if everyone got home a little later than expected.

[generational-atrophy]

OMG! I WAS LOOKING THROUGH UR BLOG CUZ MY HETALIA PHASE IS BACK AND WAS LIKE "I LOVE THIS WRITER SM WHERE ARE THEY" AND BOOM!

So request, if that's okay, the main 8 with a reader who cries during confrontations and or arguments. An imagine where ofc the main 8 says something hurtful and reader just covers their ears because 1.) Ears do be sensitive and 2.) It causes them to shut down completely

Can we know how they'd handle it plus how it'd go? Ty 💜

hetalia main 8 saying something they regret in an argument

2.8k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: they say hurtful things, and are kind of assholes in general lol

America - Alfred F. Jones

“I’m better than this. Why’d I keep someone as seriously uncool as you around?!”

Even as you immediately begin turning away from him, curling into yourself for comfort, Alfred would be less than sympathetic. If you’d ever doubted how self-centred he could be, this was more than enough evidence to prove it.

“What? What- just- don’t do that! You’re the one who started this!”

It’s unlikely he’d let up even after the tears start. He’s really that callous when he feels hurt. After a few tense minutes of silence broken only by your quiet whimpering, he’d start tearing up too. Not from guilt, seeing how much he hurt you. But instead from how he’s only now realizing he has to put his own feelings aside to take care of yours.

He’d approach you like a rabid animal, a lump stuck in his throat as he tries to say anything to get you talking again.

“Listen, it’s uh- not that serious. I’m sorry, ok? Let’s just… like- do something else?”

His comforting consists mostly of trying to get you out of your own head. Once it’s been long enough that you’re less scared, he’d take your hands away from your ears gently and kiss your cheek. If you’re sensitive to other things, he’d wrap his jacket around your shoulders and turn off the lights until you’re up and talking again.

“See? Not that hard, just like I said. Good job, babe…  let’s just keep going like this, yeah?”

Somewhere, past all of the self-absorption and pride, he does have a heart. And that heart will immediately take you out to get ice cream. It’d take him a while to admit fault (and I mean real responsibility, not just his usual “sorry not sorry, move on,” schtick,) but maybe once your tear stains have dried, he’d realize what an ass he’d been.

England - Arthur Kirkland

“G*d, you’re pissing me off already! Just- fuck- get out of here if you hate us so much!”

Like usual. He’s desperate to just leave as soon as there’s conflict. It may be annoying, but at least he’s only doing it because he knows how awful he is when frustrated. 

If you don’t take up his offer to abandon the conversation, he will. You’d have to be seriously struggling to keep him with you in that moment.

“Trust me, everything will be much, much worse if I stay…”

He’s always acting like that. It’s like his conscience disappears when he speaks, but only returns when he’s already said the hurtful thing. Never taking responsibility, always panicking and leaving just as your tears start to fall.

But, the more you tell him how much that hurts, the more he might be willing to stay.

It’ll take him a while to be able to choke out a cowardly “sorry,” but at least he’ll stop trying to push you away at every occasion.

“Wait- don’t cry so much love, I’m- I… I didn’t mean it. Ok? Is that better?”

It’s impossible for him to keep arguing once you’re truly upset. Instead, he’ll take you by the hand to the kitchen so he can start making tea for the two of you. In that silence, he encourages you to speak whatever awful thoughts you’re repeating to yourself. He’s just trying to get you in a comfortable environment again at that point.

Quiet affirmations are the only things he’ll bring, looking at you sympathetically and still holding your hand tight while you talk about whatever you want to. Whether that be something completely random, insults towards him, or actual constructive discussion is up to you.

At the end of the night, he’ll apologize. Not well, mind you, but enough to dissuade you from whatever hurt you earlier. All that matters to him is that you don’t go to bed upset.

“I’ll do better next time… or- I mean- I’ll do my best to… not be like that… again. Promise.”

France - Francois Bonnefoy

“But is it that impossible for you to put in some effort? It’s just… embarrassing to be with you right now!”

He’s always been a fighter for sport. When he argues with you, it’s not to prove a point. It’s probably not about anything he actually cares about either. He honestly just does it for fun. To him, arguing is how you really get to know someone.

So when you take his words to heart and, in the worst case, start crying, he just really doesn’t know what to do.

“Merde, darling, you know I wasn’t being serious! Come on now, don’t take it so personally…”

He may grumble about how he didn’t want you to get so upset, but at least he’ll still calm down and quit pushing you. Whatever tension there was before will dissipate as soon as he sighs, making his way over to you and wrapping you in his embrace. Unless that makes you even more uncomfortable, in which case he’ll just grab your favourite blanket and gently drape it over your shoulders.

“I am so sorry I made you so upset, I really didn’t mean it. You’re wonderful to me, always so stunning!”

For as long as you need him to, he’ll apologize over and over again, playing with your hair and wiping away your tears as delicately as he can manage. He may be just as upset as you are when he realizes what he did, but he’s shockingly good at compartmentalizing that when you need support.

But, if you focus too much on how he hurt you, he might start crying too. He can’t help it. Ignore him.

Either way, he’s there to hold you and validate you in whatever you might be feeling at that moment. Be as irrational as you need to be,  he understands the urge well. And either way, he’ll just nod along to anything you say and insist it’s everyone else's fault. Including his, unlike basically every other man.

“How can you expect to survive when you hold all of this in? Please, always come to me even with small things, we share everything as lovers, yes? I cannot bear to see you as upset as this…”

China - Yao Wang

“Can’t you act your age? How do you expect anyone to put up with you like this?!”

As soon he says it, he knows that was an awful thing to say. He doesn’t need you to tell him, he can tell just by your expression that it was too far. You didn’t deserve that, he told himself.

But that doesn’t mean his ego is gonna let him give in so easily. Even if he was an ass, he still can’t let himself give up “authority” in a fight.

“Agh- that’s not… its not what I mean to say, alright?! So just… pretend I did not….”

If you quit fighting, instead becoming more upset, he’ll really struggle to calm down instead. Like, yes, he knows he should be trying to make you feel better, but that’s- he just doesn’t want to! He entered this fight with a purpose, and just because you’re crying doesn’t make that purpose any less important!

“Why won’t you argue back?! Aiyah, I knew you were childish but-”

Then he cuts himself off. Does he want to be the bigger person and apologize? No. But will he do it if you stop crying? Yes.

He’ll rest a hand on your arm and suggest in the gentlest voice possible that the two of you should go for a walk. Maybe the fresh air will help both of you clear your heads. He doesn’t know what must’ve happened to him to make him say all of those things either.

“I don’t think those thoughts, tiánxīn. I’m sorry I said it, I was upset but… I still should have known better.”

For as quickly as he’s willing to take responsibility, he’s not as much good at the “getting you out of breakdown” stage. Hopefully, you’ve already communicated with him about that so he knows to stop being so loud and trying to touch you. He’ll do whatever you request of him, but what’s best for you in that moment is probably not his first instinct.

“I’m sorry I was being such a huge ass. I love you, I promise.”

Russia - Ivan Braginsky

“You think you are special? I can beat sense into you just like I can them!”

Good luck getting him to understand that you can’t just threaten people within the next few hours. It will not work. When he’s angry, he really doesn’t care about feelings. Just about getting you to cooperate with whatever he says.

He may usually think of both of you as equals, but when you start seriously challenging his authority while he’s in a bad mood, it’s impossible for him to not be cruel. It’s always just better to leave than let him spiral and hurt both of you in the process

Although, he (obviously) would never actually put his hands on you. He just acts like a big baby and’ll stomp his feet and tell you whatever will get the most reaction out of you.

“Любимый, won’t you come out? I’m very sorry, I promise… can’t we just talk?”

But if you do remove yourself from the situation, he would never chase after you and force you to keep being in that awful environment. He knows better than that at least.

The moment you turn away and refuse to engage with his childishness, he’s already planning how to get you to forgive him. For as callous as it seems, your disapproval hurts him more than anything else. He would come to you on his knees, snivelling and pleading,  if that was what he had to do just for you to look at him again

The moment you let him in though, he just rushes over and captures you in his arms. He would dry your tears as gently as he could, treating you like you were made of glass.

“Куколка, куколка, you know I never mean any of that, right? I’m sorry, sorry, please- please, forgive me? If I kiss it better, will you forgive me, любимый?”

He’s so pathetic. Ask anything of him in this state and he’ll do it without hesitation. Unless it’s staying away physically. He’ll be quiet and let you ignore him but don’t try to push him away or he’ll get whiney. If you stress that it isn’t personal enough, maybe he’ll let it go though.

North Italy - Feliciano Vargas

“Why aren’t I good enough? You always abandon me, like-  like I’m nothing! Why do you hate me!?”

The moment either of you pick a fight, he’s already sobbing. Sure, he can argue with his brother for hours, but you matter to him in a much more vulnerable way. If you’re at all upset with him, he instantly feels like you don’t like him any more.

But when he feels attacked, he attacks just as much. In his subconscious, it’s always easier to push you away than have you abandon him yourself. That doesn’t result in very productive conversations, though.

“You’re just pretending you love me! You’re a liar, I- I know it!”

When you start crying along with him from all the awful things he’s said, two things can happen.

One, he cries harder, interpreting your hurt feelings as being an admittance to what he accused you of. Why would you be crying if it wasn’t from guilt, and why’d he say that when he so dreaded it being true?!

Or two, you’ll tell him about how truly terrible it feels to have him think those things about you, and he’ll snap out of it. His overwhelming emotions make him incredibly selfish at the moment, so he truly hadn’t considered how you felt from all of that.

Then he immediately lowers his voice, giving you plenty of space until you feel up to talking again. 

“Oh… I’m sorry! I didn’t- you wouldn’t do that! I know that, you know that, so just- I’m sorry! Please, forgive me, amore mio dolce!”

He pulls you into a hug immediately, keeping the two of you as close as physically possible as he whispers promise after promise of his love. Until your tears dry, he won’t stop strangling you with unabashed affection, doing anything he can just to get you smiling again.

The feeling of guilt is not something he’s used to. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that he’ll start crying again too.

“If I ever make you feel bad again, please shut me up, please! I can’t take the thought of you so hurt by my words!”

Germany - Ludwig Beilschmidt

“My word should be more than enough for you to shut up already!”

It’s exceedingly rare that he ever loses his temper around you like that. Normally, you’re the one thing that can always calm him down. Just looking at your face makes his chest fill with butterflies, drowning out whatever dark thoughts he’s having.

So, needless to say, he immediately regrets snapping at you. Immediately.

“Wait, no- no, I didn’t mean to say that. I didn’t mean to. It’s not true, just- just stupid, I’m sorry, liebling…”

Whatever you two were arguing about is instantly forgotten as he rushes over to you and takes your face in his hands. It just breaks his heart to see you hurt, much more at his own actions. You don’t have to worry about him taking responsibility, he would never try to dodge the guilt of making you cry.

It’s not the first time he’s lost control, and he knows it’s his fault. But maybe if he takes you in his arms gently enough, rocking you back and forth as you cry into his shoulder, it’ll make it a little easier for you.

But if you just need a silent moment to yourself, that’s perfectly fine too. He’s autistic, so he certainly understands the feeling and will happily provide you with whatever comforting items you request.

“I’m sorry… you didn’t deserve what I said. I love you, please tell me you know that…”

Even if you pretend you weren’t that upset by it, Ludwig wouldn’t let it go like that. If he gets to his breaking point like that, whatever fight you were having is put aside for the night. Now all that matters to him is that the two of you make up and get back into how things were before as soon as possible.

Expect him to be beating himself up for a while though. He just wants you to know how sorry he is, how much he regrets snapping at you, even if it does seem a bit excessive. But he’s just had too many people he cared about leave to not make a whole thing out of it.

Japan - Kiku Honda

“Don’t you have any sense of personal space? You are like- choking me with all of… you! I can’t stand it!”

He’s a logical man. That’s one thing he always tells himself. Never, not even when he’s emotional, does he say things he doesn’t mean. Was the way he said it less than perfect? Yes, of course, he can’t believe he had just acted so impolitely, especially to someone who he cares so much for. But he still… meant what he said.

But, for the first time, as he watches your face break slowly, he’s not so sure of himself. Whether he meant it or not seems suddenly so inconsequential compared to the thought of hurting you. He… upset you? That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Ah- why are you crying? What is wrong? You… you- it will be… alright, you know? You are ok!”

Wait- no, don’t cry more from that! He has absolutely no idea how to comfort you, but if he really has to, he’ll do his best. Although it’s a little difficult for him to resist drawing your hands away from your ears, he’ll do his best to just let you have your process (no matter what that means for you.)

Before you can even hear him coming closer, you’re suddenly drawn into an intimate hug. His hand drawing your head underneath his and kissing the crown of your head so lovingly, it's almost like another person possessed him as he turns so soft just at the sight of your tears

Would his pride usually reject this? Yes, but, it’s certainly not the first time he’s had to put that aside for you.

He’ll sputter generic apologies, purposefully hiding his grimace as he forces himself to forget about whatever you two were arguing about before. Well, at least for now. Most likely he’ll bring it up not long after, but in a much more… non-confrontational way.

“Let us go do something else instead, hm? You’ll only get more upset like this, and I want that as little as you want it.”

On one hand, he’s a little annoyed he had to put aside his own gripes to calm you down. But on the other hand, he hates conflict. Anything that gets you guys back to normal is worth it, especially if otherwise you’ll be crying in his arms. That’s his absolute nightmare.

[lady0ctavia]

Hetalia PDA Headcanons (Allies)

Headcanons about how the Hetalia characters would feel about PDA with their S/O.

America: Alfred actually isn't a big hand-holder, but would rather be the kind of guy to lazily drape an arm around your shoulders when out and about, casually pressing a kiss to the side of your head every once in a while. But if you want to hold his hand, he's not complaining. If you're ever nervous or scared he'd hold you tight as the two of you make your way through town. He adores feeling like he's your protector and hero! He'd also be the kind of guy to impulsively kiss you in public. He just gets caught up in his emotions and sometimes does things like that without thinking.

England: I've said it before and I'll say it again. Arthur is a proper gentleman, and all PDA is kept to a minimum. With him, PDA will be relegated to kisses on the hand for a greeting and farewell, though he may sometimes sneak a small kiss on the hand when he feels no one else is watching. Probably if the two of you are sitting in a theatre together watching a show, partially obscured by darkness. He'd also offer you his arm as the two of you are taking a stroll around town. Boundaries and personal/societal standards are a big deal to him, and he only asks that those boundaries and standards be respected.

France: Francis would love nothing more than to show the entire world that you're his. He loves having your arms linked together as you walk. He likes to have a hand on your waist as the two of you are sightseeing around Paris. When the two of you hold hands he'll occasionally twirl you around and finish the twirl by bringing you forward into a tight embrace, holding you against his chest. He also isn't opposed to sharing sweet, passionate kisses in the town square. In short, Francis is very affectionate and a hopeless romantic when it comes to PDA. However, he's also very concerned about your comfort level and will ask you about what you are and aren't comfortable with in public.

Russia: Ivan is a teddy bear who also happens to be a bit self-conscious about PDA. As such, he's not about kissing or cuddling in public. However, he loves to hold your hand, as well as wrap an arm around you when outside the home. He wants you to feel protected, and always being able to have you close helps to calm his anxieties. He also likes to hug you from behind. He loves hugging you and looking down to see your cute, smiling face gazing up at him with all the love and adoration in the world.

China: Yao is similar to Arthur in this case, in that PDA is something he'd like to keep to a minimum. However, in Yao's case, this has less to do with being a gentleman and more to do with the fact that he's internally an old man. He typically prefers to just hold your hand in public. He also likes to play with your hair, especially if your hair is medium length or longer. He likes to run his fingers through your hair and braid it. He'd want you to play with his hair too, but only in private. I feel like Yao has a little too much pride to appear that soft in public.

Canada: Matthieu is someone who'd put an arm around you, a hand on your shoulder. He'd give you sweet, little kisses on the side of your head, cheek, and temple. But only if you're in a public place that isn't too terribly populated. The man blushes and embarrasses easily, so take care of him. He's also the biggest handholder out of the allies. Regardless of where you are in public, whether it be at the supermarket, bookstore, move theater, park, etc. This man loves to hold your hand, lightly rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand and squeezing it tight.

[kirklandsheartsecrets]

How would the bros act/react to their wife playfully being a little naughty? Like she hugs them from behind only for her hands to start feeling them up, she smacks their ass while walking pass them, she sends a dirty text during a meeting, and finally while working late in their desk she visits them to remind them to not over do it and then whispers into their ear something naughty.

So that you know, they'll be motivated to finish work fast ;)

UK brothers x reader II playful and naughty teasing

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

+18

consensual acts and characters are all +18 of course.

Wales

Hugs from behind drive him to insanity.

He loves, loves, loves feeling you behind him.

Your hands are traveling over his torso.

or lower

Dig your hands over his body and prop yourself against him.

Seduction works well with him; he is into it.

He never leaves work until the last minute, so he's probably free for this specific business related to you.

has priorities set in his life;)

You peeked your head in the living room; Dylan's silhouette was doing something near the drawer, where many savage piles of files always lay, creating a mess. The blonde's head turned around, taking note of your presence. However, the man thought you would only pass by. He didn't expect to feel your sudden warmth from behind.

Smoothly, your hands grabbed the blonde's waist, pressing your fingertips over the soft skin covered by his shirt. As if your Welsh boyfriend accepted his fate, he didn't let out a sound from his lips, waiting for your next move. Your hands relaxed, however, and they traveled up his torso, gliding over the slight curves of his muscles. Dylan lost the grip on the files he was holding, which fell messily over the edge of his fingers.

The higher your hands would reach, the tighter the space between his ass and your tights would be as they tightened and pressed against each other. You tiptoed to reach even higher, to his clavicles, only to quickly drop your hands back to his waist and furthermore reach to where his v-line started.

Most of your fingers stretched away from his skin, leaving only your index fingers to tease the hem of his pants.

Air caught up inside Dylan's throat as he felt warmth building up in his chest and face. He wondered if the blood ran directly to his pants, giving him a visible boner, or if the sensation came from your hands playing with him, feeling up every inch of his body.

Dylan reached over your hands when you started playing with the hem of his pants.

« Now... » He mumbled only for your ears.

You tiptoed again and pressed yourself against Dylan, ignoring his question, this time leaning and kissing the right side of his neck. Voluntarily breathing over his skin, goosebumps appeared instantly.

Northern Ireland

pretend to moan his name.

or whisper his name in his ears.

Add to it a sly smile.

Playful seduction always pays off.

He cannot concentrate anymore.

will cancel anything to end you right there in bed.

Meetings, appointments, you call it.

could be at home or in public  

He loves playful intimacy and usually responds by doing the same, but moaning his name in his ears is his secret spot. From the moment you moaned out his name with a smile, he was also smiling with his lips.Connor thought quickly about how he could make you pay for your naughty sounds by teasing him.

The meeting's bathroom or wait until tonight?

He wasn't going to wait when you were in the same room as him, looking irresistible. He just wanted to hear your nasty voice yell out his name over and over again now.

He felt aggressive butterflies take over his pelvis region, conscious of the blood slowly rushing to it.

He takes his phone, writing something quick over it as you two were in the middle of a meeting,

Why don't you purr like this in the bathroom while I listen with headphones?''

When you stood up and left the meeting room, Connor, I expected you to actually do it as you were wearing the dirtiest look on your face.

This only made him unexpectedly leave the meeting with a deep facial expression, heading towards the bathroom.

Ireland

One kiss over the lips is never one kiss only.

always turns out into a make-out session

and he knows it.

just as well as you do.

Of course, he also drops everything he is doing.

He didn't want to do it anyway.

pretty easy; kiss him and grind him a bit in between.

reacts positively to the signs instantly.

Sean pretended to be focused on this project, computer open in front of him, staring at the screen. He obviously wasn't; however, this project wasn't going to write itself by just staring at it. Someone employed by his boss would do it anyway.

You lightly knocked at the door of his office, entering. When you opened the door, Sean could hear the voices coming from the neighboring rooms. His boss and many others were discussing random matters loudly enough to be heard. Yet he was stuck here, writing this project, when he could just talk it out with whoever was in charge of this subject.

Naturally, after entering, you sat on him, leaning lightly for a hug. Sean's arms welcome you closer to him.

Without speaking a word, you pulled him into a kiss, perfectly conscious that Sean would turn it into the most heated make-out session right there, right now.

He sunk deeper into the chair as you deepened the kiss, taking your sweet time and waiting for him to engage deeper. Sean chose to slow down and break the kiss. He knew he was onto something when you made him extend his posture lower in the chair, only for him to lean soon enough again in. While you applied pressure against his lips, Sean's left hand found its way to your chest, and as a response, your pelvis against his thigh grinded closer. However, much to Sean's displeasure, you detached from him, leaving his head hanging towards you in confusion.

As you're leaving the room, he is quick behind you, following.

England

One naughty text is not enough.

It takes 10 of them for him to actually stop what he is doing.

This workaholic is too busy

Be straight to the point and say what you want him to do to you.

He is not patient.

you neither;)

definitely motivated to finish quicker.

There is something else he'll finish quick though.

on his mind the whole time after reading the texts.

England felt his stomach drop, followed by heat, as he saw the text bubbles appear. 11, to be precise. For a moment, the Brit thought that they would never stop. He saw them but didn't mind reading them fully, his attention sparked by the people around the parliament talking. He turned his phone the other way around, over his thigh, so he wouldn't look at it. However, the urge to check took over, so he grabbed the phone and this time unlocked it to read the texts from the start.

Arthur knew he didn't let any reaction escape his facial features, as parliament sessions are filmed.

He knew no one could see the texts, so he started reading them. In the texts, you mention with a variety of vocabulary what you wanted, but most importantly, that you wanted it quick.

Arthur is not allowed to leave parliament sessions that easily. He put down the phone again, listening (or at least trying), but his mind kept thinking of the texts you just sent him. His thoughts repeated the words over and over again, wishing time wasn't as slow as it felt right now.

Suddenly he is pressuring the talks and taking part in them. Luring his boss into pushing the session to the next day again

Finally, by the time he is out, he calls you from his office, quite frustrated because of how naughty his mind is and, moreover, that he couldn't leave sooner in the session. The journey home from the parliament added to his pent-up frustrations, which resulted in Arthur being quite rough when he came back home to you.

Scotland

Usually, no one can get around him when he works.

but you don't really care about that.

Undressing him works well.

Try to lift up his shirt or open the buttons (if he has them).

If he is wearing a button-up shirt, just leave it open enough for your hand to linger over his skin.

If his upper body is bare, he won't hold still for too long.

will finish his work first but fast just to get to his real business (you) faster.

another one who gets a boner right after

Alistair felt your presence in the room, but his concentration told him better. He had to proofread this paragraph carefully again, or his and Arthur's boss would make his next few years a nightmare.

You sat at first on the chair next to him, a loud silence taking place. You stared at your husband for two long minutes, observing his physical features. His left hand was covering his facial features from the angle you were looking at as he kept staring at the infinity of lines in front of him.

Alistair wouldn't answer you if you let a word out, as when he is reading he never replies.

However, you did notice his tense back, tightened shoulders, and lightly pressed neck while staring at him for who knows how long.Imagine the sensation he must've felt the whole afternoon in this position. It gave you back pain.

He obviously felt frustrated and bothered by this task, which has taken days and weeks to get approved, and thus because of his brother's boss being a pain for him and his own boss.

You let out a mere sigh when you came back to reality from your thoughts, but you didn't expect your sigh to be so loud in the room. You pecked your husband's cheek lightly before leaving your hands to do the work over his shirt. You ran your hand first under his shirt, feeling the burning skin untouched this whole time. Seeing the lack of reaction from the Scot, you opened his shirt entirely, making sure to slide it against his back muscles and strong arms. Naturally, his arms freed the shirt from his body before getting back to their original position.

You gave Alistair a few seconds for his warm skin to feel the slightly cooler air in the room, giving him this tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach.

Alistair instinctively looked up to you and thought for a second about how your hands roaming over his chest would feel, leading his mind to the naughtiest thoughts possible. He tried to shake these thoughts away, only for him to sigh as he looked for the line he was reading.

You were going to put your hands on him, but having compassion for him and this project he's been working so hard on, you chose not to do it. You left the room, leaving his shirt on the chair next to it, chuckling slightly. Alistair literally ran out of the room after reading the last line of the paper in front of him.

:)

some are more explicit than others, couldn't decide tbh so i mixed

hope you like it

[doki-doki-imagines]

Aph England 🎁

The man is a mess, too many relatives, too much stuff that could go wrong, too many things to cook (maybe that was better to leave to someone more skilled). The best part of the day is late evening, all the house still to clean, but full of warmth and comfort, just you two, helping each other out like a normal couple.

[suvidrache]

Pirates & Ships

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 168 | Read it on AO3 | Tag List

England loved all things regarding pirates and ships. When he met you, he took his time getting to know you. Surely, you wouldn't be interested in the same things that he was. He was older, technically. He was a country. The times may have changed. He wasn't exactly up-to-date with all of that information. However, he was far better than some of the other places, which lacked the knowledge that he did. He also had no experience interacting with someone who was quite like him. He didn't mention his older interests, as he didn't want to seem old.

“Hey, I heard there was a new pirate movie coming out. Are you going to see it?” You asked him, completely forgetting whether either of you had mentioned liking things like that previously.

“I-I thought about it.” He said nervously. He didn't want to mess this up.

“We could go together.” You asked, smiling happily.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I love that type of stuff.”

“Me too.” He said with a smile.

© SUVIDRACHE — do not copy, translate, modify, or plagiarize my work. reblogs are appreciated!

Tag List: @eli-chris, @sunmoongoddess