#england x reader

[yawujin]

bwaaaah hetalia allies with s/o who's a virgin /// or, nsfw for their first time OUUUGGH!! also, what's ur limit for how many characters u write? I'd ask for both allies n axis but don't wanna bombard that many on u !! ^^

don't worry about that, i got youu ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ) enjoy!! 🤍

hetalia allies & axis | first time 💭 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

type | nsfw , smut , they/them pronouns used , established relationship , light hearted , first time trope

allies ♥︎

america/alfred f. jones

he's really excited and is prone to getting carried away.

it will take direct communication from his s/o to get him to calm down and take things slow. he can respect that, so he does.

he's making sure to be careful in everything he does, tracking his pace so he goes slow enough to not overwhelm them but fast enough to not bore them

he really really wants their approval...so he's doing the best he can (he wants that sweet praise after all is said and done)

england/arthur kirkland

he's like really anxious so if they're able to help him through that, that would be really great

he just has this fear that he'll hurt them so he is really gentle, it's an expectation that he's aware of so he just automatically does it

he's very encouraging and accepting towards mostly anything his s/o does during sex. he's the type to urge them to let it all out if they want to moan but are holding back. he also really wants them to grab onto anything of his, really. but only if they want to

he'll want to hurry and get them cleaned up as soon as they both finish, so they don't have to feel uncomfortable...especially after their first time

france/francis bonnefoy

he makes it very sweet, very loving, and makes sure that they feel comfortable before they even begin.

he'll give them words of affirmation, and letting them know they're free to back out at anytime. "if you want a break, just say the word and we'll have a break." france kisses their cheek

he's very vocal, complimenting them on their expressions, sounds and on their figure.

afterwards, he'll want to lie down and hold them. he'll tell them just how much he appreciates them and say what his favorite parts were. he'll ask them what theirs were, too.

canada/matthieu williams

he's shy but not anxious. being gentle is in his dna, so it comes to him automatically

"i never want you to feel uncomfortable..." he says. his voice is soft and sweet.

he's the type to guide them through it, putting his hand on theirs and placing it somewhere on his body. it's especially helpful if they're the type to not know where to touch.

i feel like he'd want to kiss them a lot, but he understands if they don't want to or get overwhelmed.

russia/ivan braginsky

first of all, he puts in effort to not look scary because he knows he can be intimidating

and since sex can be intimidating to some, he really tries to get them to have fun with it

he tries to do the same, and not take himself too seriously

he saves the sweet talk for after they both finish. for now, he wants to savor the moment with them and moan into their ear, watching how they react to all of it, all of him. he likes the fact that it's brand new to them, but he'll like it even more if he can please them...so he focuses on that.

china/yao wang

he's very well versed in helping people feel relaxed, especially during a moment that can be so overwhelming for some.

of course , it helps that he's experienced, too. that way he can reassure them and promise that he's going to make his s/o feel great

he's already prepared the essentials (i'll leave it up to the readers to guess what those are winkk)

he knows already that he's going to need to take things easy at first. it's really fortunate that he's good at tracking his pacing, and reading expressions. he keeps asking them if they feel alright, and if it's okay for him to continue. if they consent, he'll give them a quick kiss on the forehead before going back to what he was doing.

axis ♥︎

north italy/feliciano vargas

he's all smiles. he's just happy that he gets to be their first.

he's excited!! but he respects them completely, so he asks what exactly they want to happen.

italy is here to fufill their wishes. and that he does.

he can't help but hold them tightly in the heat of the moment, going in for a quick collection of kisses before pulling away for some air. he's getting desperate but he asks for permission before doing anything else.

germany/ludwig beilschmidt

he's nervous ngl but he knows what to do so he approaches this *situation* practically

he prolongs the foreplay just so he can give them a taste of what's to come also so he can get an idea of what they might like or dislike

he overthinks a lot of what people say and what their body language is so he takes that into account before they begin

he's the one to ask: "can i do this?" "is this okay with you?" before going any further. if they didn't know any better they'd think it's his first time with the hesistant way he goes about this (it's kind of sweet, since he's usually so direct)

japan/kiku honda

he's very sweet towards them, now more than ever

he says it's okay if they're nervous, but he really wants to know how they want to go about this

he urges them to talk about exactly what they want, so he can give it to them just as they prefer

he delivers; making them feel cared for from the very moment they start making out to the final moments where he's looking at them, even if they're too shy to maintain eye contact

prussia/gilbert beilschmidt

similar to his brother germany, prussia is direct and he uses this as a guide for them

he gently asks them if they can do a certain thing, letting them ease into it and letting them take the lead without so much pressure. he reminds them they can say no if he unknowingly asks too much of them

he does this because he'd rather not risk coming on too strong (he doesn't want to let his eccentricity get the better of him and overwhelm or scare his s/o ☹️)

he's happy with whatever they want to do and gives them a little bit of praise to encourage them further

south italy/lovino vargas

he tones down his usual blunt and outspoken demeanor just for them, reminding them that it's okay not to take themselves so seriously

he uses touch as a way to soothe their nerves, constantly holding any, and every part of them in one way or another

he goes ahead with touching them in the typical ways most people like, but tells them that they should let him know if they don't like something right away

as he gets accquainted with everything they do like though, he'll tell his s/o how amazing they feel, on almost every part of their body.

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Giving Him Head - (W/ America, England, Canada) x GN!Reader SMUT

Summary: Smutty little scenarios where you go down on some (America, England, Canada) of the nations. Yup. 💕

Contents/Possible Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), Hair Pulling, praise kink (kinda), implication of multiple orgasms, SMUT, MDNI

America (Alfred F. Jones)

Alfred had always been fond of throwing large parties, a firm believer in "go big, or go home." The biggest one he threw each year had to be his birthday party. He could go all out with fireworks, cookouts, and every red-white-and-blue-colored food he could ever ask for or dream of having. The presents were a nice thing to get too, but you always gave him his favorites.

Usually, he'd receive it after everyone had left and gone home, leaving only the two of you, but today he wanted one a bit earlier, leading you to sneak off with him to a secluded area of the house while everyone remained outside.

"Fuckfuckfuck," he groaned, tugging at the locks of your hair while you sucked on his cock, stroking what you couldn't fit with your hand. He had been pent up all day, especially after seeing you dressed in the stars and stripes of his nation's flag. You looked irresistible to him for the entire day, so much so that he didn't think he'd make it this long without either of you touching each other.

"That's it, you're doing such a good fucking job," He praised, throwing his head back with a loud moan as you paid extra attention to the tip, swirling your tongue around it as the salty taste of pre-cum filled your mouth. He was being loud like he always did. It was his day today, and he'd be damned if he didn't enjoy every last bit of it.

He began to lightly thrust upwards, hips meeting the up-and-down bobbing of your head. You looked so beautiful like this, lips wrapped around his thick length while you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes filled with wanton desire. Oh, he was going to wreck you later after all the guests outside had returned home. You were his favorite birthday present, after all.

England (Arthur Kirkland)

Arthur was a composed man who did his best to act like a true gentleman to those around him, especially to you. He kept his words and actions proper, but no one can maintain their composure every moment of their life. Especially not when they have their partner on their knees for them and ready to please.

"Fuck," He cursed, the sound drawn-out and a lewd cross between a moan and a whine. He was rarely ever this vocal, but with your lips wrapped perfectly around his cock as you managed to take the whole of it inside your warm, wet mouth, he thinks he could forgive himself for being a little too loud. When you look up at him through eyes that look too innocent for the act you're doing, his composure slips even more.

"Just like that, love," he manages to get out shakily, already close from how well you're taking him. "You're going to make me cum." He moans, hands finding themselves buried in your hair, light pulling at your soft locks as you manage to take him in even deeper, your bobbing up and down with an increased speed.

The delicious, almost pathetic noise that escapes him makes something click inside if you, and you know things aren't finished here until he's a broken, babbling mess of the gentleman he portrays himself as. He was yours to ruin, after all.

Canada (Matthew Williams)

Matthew had always been a people-pleaser, more ready to do things for others than he was for others to do for him. He was a sweet man in every aspect, and you believed that type of good needed to be paid back double, even if he insisted that it didn't. It took a decent amount of coaxing and reassurance to get him in the position you were in now.

"P-Please–" He stuttered out, only to let out a loud gasp that turned into a whiny moan as you swallowed his cock whole. He didn't know what he was begging for; was it more? Was it less? He didn't know anything other than that the warm wetness of your mouth around him felt overwhelmingly good. He had already cum once, but you showed no intent on stopping.

He was already close again; the sight of you on your knees in front of him, combined with the way you were taking him, was growing to be too much for him to handle. His hands found themselves grabbing at the bedsheets below as he tried to delay what was to come and enjoy the moment a little longer, but you grabbed them, moving them to your hair.

"Pull it, be as rough as you want, I won't break." You told him quickly before your mouth returned back to his cock. He let out a soft moan, experimentally tugging on your locks, pleasantly surprised when a moan of your own left you while you continued to bring your head up and down. Maybe, just maybe, getting rewarded for his good deeds wasn't so bad after all.

[ell-alexanderarnold]

Everywhere I go leads me back to you

Summary: Two lovers with two different lives and there’s never ending arguments. Y/n asks herself if the relationship is worth saving. What happens when the two lovers paths starts to collide and goes the other direction?

Angst & Fluff

Note: Let me know your thoughts! <3

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You sat in the car, hands on the steering wheel and you stared at your engagement ring on your finger. You thought about how it was two years ago when you didn’t study, and were home all the time, always available for Trent. But he was not always available for you. You would travel to watch him play at Anfield and when he was playing away games, but nowadays you have to study really hard if you want to make it.

Then he proposed of course, you two were so madly in love. However, what happens when two lovers paths starts to collide and goes the other direction?

You and Trent hasn’t been able to catch up with each other for a while, and you miss him. You get sad when you think about it and sometimes you wish it could be how it was before you started studying.

You parked your car and noticed that Trent’s car also was parked, which was strange because you knew he had a game tonight.

You exited your car and then unlocked your door. You smelled that someone was cooking, that someone was Trent.

“Hello” You said and walked in the kitchen where Trent stood cooking.

“Hey love, you hungry?” He answered and smiled at you.

“Yeah, a little” You simply answered and Trent lead you to the dinner table where he had lit up candles for the dinner.

“Sit down the food’s almost ready” He soothed and kissed your forehead.

You were surprised but also happy that he did this with so much effort because of the little time you spend together these days.

”Wow T, I’m actually impressed” You praised as you started to eat, once again surprised by him.

He smiled in response as he joined you at the table. It almost felt surreal seeing Trent sitting in front of you, you finally got to get lost in his brown eyes again. Oh how you have missed looking into his eyes. In the middle of your admiration you remembered to ask him why he was home and not travelling to the game.

“Are you not playing tonight?” You asked and took a sip of your water and watched his eyebrows furrowed.

“Y/n the game is tomorrow” He confirmed and you put your glass down, almost in shock.

“Oh, I thought it was tonight” You nervously chuckled, and couldn’t believe how you could get it so wrong. Trent wasn’t bothered but you were. You realised how tired you really are from focusing on uni all the time.

“Well, it’s not easy for you to know babe” Trent comforted and grabbed your hand gently and drew small circles on your palm.

“What time are you leaving in the morning?” You implored, knowing that you’d probably won’t see each other for a few days so you wanted to be awake when he leaves, which means you have to sacrifice some hours of sleep. But you wanted to everything for him.

“I’ll leave at 7 ish” Trent answered and an idea popped up in his head.

“Want to come with me?” He added as you immediately panicked inside.

“Where to?” You wondered.

“We’re playing in the Europa League, Toulouse” He asserted and you scratched the back of your neck, something you always do when you’re anxious.

“I can’t, I have to study” You stated and watched his reaction, he wasn’t happy.

“Come on Y/n, can’t you study anywhere?” He pleaded and you knew that this was getting out of hands.

“You mean anywhere you are?” You sighed as you went to put your plate in the dishwasher.

“Please don’t be like that Y/n” Trent tutted and came up to you, giving you that look of disappointment.

“I really need to give it everything if I’m gonna make it Trent” You said and looked at him, and Trent of all people would know the sacrifices that has to be made if you want to make it.

“I understand, just wished that it would be like old times” He mumbled and sat down by the couch as you followed after him.

“Trent you’re saying that you miss when I was a failure, sitting on this couch all day waiting for you to come home and put a ring on my finger?” You snapped. Perhaps it was too much however, you couldn’t stand being in this position in the relationship any longer.

“Y/n, that’s not what I said” Trent said and scoffed as tears started forming in your eyes.

“It’s not about that it is that you don’t want me to have a life separate from yours! I can’t be available all the time Trent” You went on and Trent sat there and reminded himself that you also have a life that doesn’t revolve him.

“What about us then?” Trent spoke up and more tears streamed down your face and you shot a look at your engagement ring.

“I don’t anymore, I gave up something to be at uni and you should know what that’s like because your football is all that matters and all you have time for nowadays Trent” You defended and suddenly you felt your phone buzzing. You looked at Trent with a tear leaving your eye and went upstairs to answer the call.

Trent slammed the coffee table and started crying. Somewhere he felt that this was going to end and he couldn’t control it.

-

You sat in your shared bed studying, you didn’t have the energy to sit at your desk working. Trent packed his bag for tomorrow and the both of you haven’t spoken since a few hours ago. The silence was too much for you to handle so you sat with your airpods on full volume. You didn’t even know how much the clock was until you heard Trent turning the lights off downstairs.

You got up from the bed and put your books on your desk and then went to the bathroom. You brushed you teeth and you were lost in your thoughts and your music was still playing in your ears, you didn’t even notice Trent standing beside you brushing his teeth as well.

When you were done you looked over at him and saw that he was watching you too, you had to fight the urge to not hug him and absolutely sob into his chest. But Trent already knew how you felt and walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you. Although this time it wasn’t you who cried, it was Trent.

“Shh, it’ll be alright” You whispered and rubbed his back.

“You make it so difficult sometimes” Trent sniffled and let go of you. You were left in the bathroom struck with a such strong feeling of emptiness after he left.

You both sat at the edge of the bed, wishing some things were better left unsaid.

“Y/n” Trent called.

“Y/n” Trent called again.

“I heard you the first time” You taunted.

“We promised each other not to go to sleep angry” He said and you pulled the duvet over yourself preparing to sleep knowing it will take a while to fall asleep.

“Well, I guess some promises are made to be broken” You ended and turned of your bedside lamp.

–

Everything changed after that night. Trent came home after a loss against Toulouse, you wanted to comfort him the moment he stepped through the door. Trent was angry, he always was after a loss but this time it was different because of the situation between the two of you.

You two spoke a few times during the day but it was just small talks and it killed you.

It got more worse later in the day when you were preparing to sleep, Trent would start and argument and then it turned to not saying goodnight to each other anymore. Which you both always did before going to sleep despite an argument.

Now, you stopped saying goodnight and Trent stopped sleeping.

It was like torture to sleep next to him, every minute you thought about to whether sleep in the guest room or go downstairs to the kitchen to grab something to eat. You could hear Trent sighing and toss and turn, eventually he couldn’t take it anymore.

Trent got up from the bed and left your shared bedroom and closed the door quietly as he thought you were asleep.

You wanted to go after him, so you also left the bedroom. You heard noise from downstairs and you figured it was the tv, slowly walking down the stairs you could see him sitting in the couch, watching football highlights from the night.

You sat down, not too close to him but not so far away either. You watched the tv and the highlights showed a stunning goal which made Trent turn to you and say “What a goal that” He said and really you couldn’t believe him. Silence between the both of you for about three days and that’s the first thing he says to break the silence.

You turned your head to look at him, your eyes met and Trent’s lips curled into a small smile.

The whole situation was sentimental, and it was because the both of you knew. You two couldn’t work it out, no matter how hard you tried. The both of you live completely different lives, with different schedules. The only thing you could go back to was that you two have so much love for one another, and that’s what will always unite you and Trent in the end. But it has been this way for too long.

You looked at Trent and caressed his face, and you gave him a look that says everything he needs to know.

“At least we tried” You said, almost in a whisper and looked at your ring. It was filled with memories, and as you took it off it felt like your heart shattered. Tears streamed down your face as you handed Trent the ring. His hands were shaking as he received it, holding the ring that he thought would be stuck on your finger forever.

“Give it to someone who really deserves it T” You cried and he sniffed, looking at you with eyes filled with tears.

“But I only love you Y/n” He mumbled.

Trent thought that his biggest mistake of his life may be letting you go, letting you slip through his fingers just like that…

Two years later

You sat tense, waiting for the final whistle. They were almost crowned European champions. You were so proud of the team that they made it this far in the competition.

“Any minute now!” You exclaimed to your best friend beside you.

They won.

You celebrated with your friends and watched all the players run onto the pitch to their teammates who played the match. You could cry of happiness.

You watched Liverpool lift the trophy, fireworks and confetti were everywhere in the air. You watched the players get their medals and you saw him, getting his very own medal. He ran up to his family and they all hugged him.

Imagine if you were there with him.

And then he started to walk at your direction. He showed the fans the trophy with such pride and you always adored that side of him.

Without noticing he stood in front of the crowd that you was in, and he hardly even recognised you until he saw you. His heart stopped.

You looked up from your phone to see him standing there. Your friends were too caught up in their own conversation to notice you seeing Trent again after all these years.

You smiled at him and pointed at the trophy he was holding, he looked down at it then back at you and mouthed “Not bad”.

You smiled again and it felt like the time stopped and that is was only you and Trent in the stadium.

You couldn’t help but let a tear leave your eye, as you looked at him one last time.

You turned your back on him and dried your tears as you started to leave with your friends.

Trent didn’t move, he was still hoping for you to come back.

Maybe in another universe.

[merbear25]

cw nsfw

haiiii i forgot if i asked this but maybe e ame with breeding kink :3

an d england too ofc ofc

Hey, hey! I can't deny that I'm a sucker for a breeding kink, so I was happy to write this for you. I went with headcanons, so I hope you like it 💜💜

America and England with a breeding kink

CW: NSFW!! MDNI!! fem!reader, headcanons, mentions of impregnating reader, vaginal creampies

America

He didn't realize he had this kink before meeting you, but when he sees how good you are around children, something in him just cllicks.

He's a bit embarrassed about talking to you about it mostly due to the fact he has no idea how to bring it up.

Not only did you never discuss wanting to have kids, but you were also extremely careful when having sex: using condoms and birth control were a must. However, the desire to fill you completely with his cum was gnawing at him.

When he asks you about exploring this option, he's fairly surprised that you're willing to indulge him in his fantasies. He's not complaining, though!

Before trying it, you two had a discussion about what you'd do if you got pregnant. You pushed this discussion more than he did.

During your first time having sex without a condom, you're both nervous about the 'what if' situation.

That being said, the chemistry between the two of you overpowered your doubts. Soon you're both lost in the midst of passion and the euphoria.

When he releases in you, shivers are sent down your spine, leaving goosebumps in the wake of your lovemaking.

After the first time, it was hard to go back to using condoms. The more you let him creampie you, the less you wanted to keep to your birth control.

Knowing you are off the pill excites him, and leaves him wanting to see you carry his child.

The thought of his cum dripping out of you, then leading to your swollen belly only makes him want to keep himself between your legs until he makes it a reality.

England

He comes off as a very prim and proper man and to be fair, he is...to an extent.

He may not flaunt it, but he's got a fair amount of experience under his belt. He's had a lot of time to realize his sexual interests and kinks, and he's more than happy to help you explore yours.

He's raised a few countries, so he's not exactly jumping at the opportunity to get back to parenting.

That being said, when you come to him with that sweet face and doe eyes, he finds it hard not to listen to you wanting to explore your kink to have him breed you.

Now, the thought of him cumming in you so recklessly does send thrills throughout his body, but he's a bit apprehensive. He wants to talk about the possibility of you getting pregnant and if the both of you are ready for it.

After discussing the options, he's happy to satisfy your desires.

Everything leading up to the main event was perfect, leaving you craving for more.

While having your first time throwing caution to the wind, you couldn't get enough of it. The energy you're bringing gives him a massive confidence boost.

You've unleashed a primal urge within him, and he's fully committed to cumming in you as deep as he can.

Watching everything he pulsated into you drip out is one of the most satisfying things for him. Knowing how much you love the feel of it makes it even better.

If you decide that you want children, he's now happy to take that next step with you. He comes across as very gentlemanly when you bring it up.

But, when you're in the bedroom, his true feelings towards it come out. He's clearly on a mission to impregnate you, chasing a fantasy of his he'd kept burried.

[stonesilhouette]

Feline Fiasco

Hetalia x Reader

This is written for a female reader but there isn't really anything specific that would suggest that besides a few references. If you want to read, I'm not going to stop you.

Also (Y/n) is completely uninterested in the countries for the majority of this, all she's interested in is the cats. This is way fluffier than anything else I've posted, which is two things, and this part is relatively America-centric because (Y/n) works for him. This is also way less quality work than those two posts but idk deal with it?

There is more to this but it's unfinished and I'll probably never post it. My friend also helped with the cat names so if you don't like them... uh assume that they chose them. One last note, I thought it would be funny to write the accents so you also have to deal with that.

As one of the many secretaries working in the White House, it was actually quite a surprise to you that you ended up as the main secretary to the human personification of the U.S.A.

Because of this, you had become quite close to Mr. F. Jones and more importantly: his cat.

You couldn't help but coo at the adorable and floofy feline. Sure, you should probably finish filing those papers, but national security can wait a few more minutes. Besides you couldn't resist the allure of the purr. It would be an understatement to say, when you learned that the other personifications also had furry friends of their own, you were excited.

America didn't want you interacting with the other countries, especially not Russia. But you honestly didn't care and you weren't the recording secretary for those meetings, so it's not like you were in attendance anyways. That somehow didn't stop you from having to tag along and meeting more nation cats; of which you weren't sure why they had brought them along in the first place. It's not like you were complaining.

Ball of fur after ball of fur. No cat went un-petted. Except for Germany's cat; he had evaded you time and time again. But no longer! For today was the last day and you were going to pet that cat if it was the last thing you did.

There it was. It's sleek black fur, the ribbon in Germany's signature colors around its neck, and that always alert look on its face. He would evade you no more. You crouched down in your very inflexible pencil skirt and prepared to pounce.

"Vhat are jou doing?" A voice thick with a German accent called out, startling you and the cat who decided to bound back towards him and into his arms.

"Uhhhh." You blanked.

"You're America's secretary right? Vat vere jou trying to do to my cat?" He questioned, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

You gulped and tried to explain your actions in a way that didn't sound absolutely ridiculous.

"I-uh. I wanted to pet your cat and… he kept evading me and I thought if I snuck up on him that I could pet him." You looked away and pitifully whispered, "Sorry."

"If jou vanted to pet him, all you had to do was ask."

"Really!?" Your eyes lit up and you looked up at the German with pure and unbridled excitement. He coughed and looked away with a slight blush resting on his cheeks.

"Of course." He held the cat out. You, with no hesitation whatsoever, immediately started to adore and love the cat, even shifting it from Germany's arms to your own.

As you continued to pet the cat, who despite his earlier refusal, seemed quite happy, you asked Germany a question. "My name's (Y/n). What's yours if you're willing to share? No pressure though."

His eyes widened a bit before he shook it off and gave you an answer. "Ludwig Beilschmidt." He responded, studying his cat. "Germouser seems to like jou."

You could barely stifle a laugh at the name he had given to the black cat. He sensed your amusement and gave an explanation.

"Feli- Italy named him. I vas going to name him Johann or something similar. Italy was zoroughly horrified by my suggestions and vould not rest until I vent vith his."

You smiled at the Italian's antics and shook your head with amusement. "Germouser is a fine name for an absolutely wonderful cat."

Germany seemed to get flustered again as he watched you coo at his cat, completely ignoring his presence. He would have just left him with you, but the meeting was starting soon and he didn't want to be late. Luckily for him, America decided to pop around the corner, demanding your attention. So you were forced to give up the precious kitty cat and return with Mr. Jones.

Alfred was annoyed. Not at you but at everyone else. Why did they have any right to be around you? You were an American citizen. His citizen. Sure, all you were really interested in was their cats. But what if you thought that they and their cats were so cool that you left him and went to live in a different country instead? He couldn't let that happen.

"So, (Y/n), dude, broette." He said on the way to the meeting room. "Here's the deal."

You gave him a look and raised an eyebrow.

"I need someone to watch Hero for me and my sitter flaked so you're gonna be watching him." He fingered-gunned at you and stars seemed to shine in the air around him. This, of course, was nothing new to you. It wasn’t like you would have rather been attending the meeting anyways.

So you stayed in a different unoccupied meeting room with a lovely, furry friend. It wasn't until he started hissing at a corner that you were in trouble.

"Hero, what's wrong?" You asked, concerned at the agitated cat. His tail bristled up and his ears flattened down as he took a defensive position. Out of nowhere another fluffy cat waltzed in from the very corner that Hero had been hissing at. It was Boris, a cat that belonged to Russia.

You hadn't actually gotten to pet him yet because to be honest, you were also scared of Russia. But… He wasn't around… and his cat was. And his cat was purring.

That was about all the reasoning that you needed to brush past Hero and scoop Boris up into your arms. The former started yowling for your attention and followed you as you went to sit down with the Russian cat.

You laid down on the plush carpeted floor and lifted the cat that you were holding up above you. Boris’ fluffy body was placed onto your chest and he immediately started purring louder once he got comfortable. He nuzzled his face into your neck, much to the annoyance of the American cat. Hero yowled at you and pawed at Boris, desperately trying to get him off.

Boris only gave him a smug look in return and kneaded into you, further solidifying his spot. Hero decided that it wasn’t worth the fight and that he was going to get his owner to remove the Russian cat and put him back into his mother’s lap: aka you.

The surprisingly smart and agile cat leapt around the room and pushed down the door handle, slipping out through the crack. You didn’t notice this as you were currently immersed in the bliss of a cat sitting on you and letting you pet it.

Eventually the purring lulled you into a peaceful and warm slumber, the two of you deciding to take a cat nap.

It would be Russia who found you first. Ivan realized that his cat had gone missing and he honestly didn’t care enough about the meeting to stay. It's not like anyone would try to stop him.

So as Hero bounded down the halls towards the meeting room, Mr. Ivan Braginsky came from the other direction; his sense of where his cat was at any one moment was completely uncanny.

The Russian gradually opened the wooden door and it quietly opened without any resistance. He turned his head towards where he heard purring and was met with a surprising sight. It was America’s secretary, with his cat, lying, with his cat.

You were breathing softly and the movements of your chest moving up and down also moved Boris. Ivan couldn’t help but faintly smile at the sight. Said cat opened a singular eye to acknowledge the new presence in the room. He flicked his tail and settled back into his spot. Not wanting to bother you or the cat, Ivan pulled out a chair and sat down. 

He pulled out some paperwork, seemingly from nowhere, and began to work on it. The sounds of your quiet breathing, combined with the light purr from Boris, made for a calming work environment. 

As the three of you remained in peaceful bliss, another kitty cat was running around the corner on the never ending search for food. Itabby trotted up and down the corridors looking for an open door that might lead to some food that didn’t come from England. Her golden fur glimmered as the sun shined through the many windows in the building. She looked over at a door that had opened slightly and was too blinded by the thought of food to notice the scarily familiar scent coming from the room.

Itabby scampered over to the door but screeched and meowed as she was sent flying by an American blonde and his equally irritated cat. She tentatively peered around the door at the scene forming.

“HEY!” Alfred yelled, startling both you and the cat. You shot up straight, Boris falling into your lap. “What are you doing with her?!” He yelled again, getting his face up into Ivan’s. The other man gave him an unamused look and stood up, towering over him. Alfred, despite this, did not back down and continued to stare angrily at him.

“Go away.” The white-haired male said, his accent heavy as he crossed his arms. “You have startled them with your unnecessary noise. You are just like the rest of your country.”

The air tensed and became heavier as the seconds went on. They began to size each other up as Hero, ironically, “heroically” walked proudly over to you and with his front paws, pushed Boris off of your lap. He quickly took his place and started purring. Boris’ fur began to puff up as he hunched down and prepared to pounce. His back legs flexed and he made the jump, sending both him and Hero flying towards their fighting owners, who were remarkably somehow not in a physical fight. Yet.

You very quickly realized that you did not want to be in the middle of  two superpowers fighting and quietly took your leave. (E/c) eyes met feline amber ones and you swept up the cat and made your escape, leaving behind the feuding men and cats.

Itabby snuggled into your arms as you finally slowed down to catch your breath. Her round tail whooshed back and forth as you tiredly walked through the long hallway. The two of you eventually ended up in the rose gardens of the meeting building. The area was well taken care of and beautiful if you did say so yourself. The meeting was taking place in England and Mr. Jones had told you about how the Brit enjoyed gardening, so it made sense as to why it was here.

Speaking of the British, you spotted a fluffy feline shape from the corner of your eye. It was deeper into the gardens and among the trees. Itabby finally decided that it was time to go and return to her owner. She gracefully leaped out of your arms and landed on all fours and trotted off to beg Italy for some pasta. You instead continued your approach to the cat, which at this point, you could tell was a Scottish Fold.

The left side of his face was brown and so was his tail. Alike to his owner, he seemed to have what you assumed were some kind of eyebrows and when he opened his eyes to look at you, his olive eyes stared into yours. He flicked his tail and layed back down onto the wall that he was laying on. His collar jingled as he moved and you quietly moved up to him. On the gold circle attached to the same olive color collar, was a name.

‘Scone’ You thought. ‘Oh my god. This is the most English cat name I have ever seen.’

You almost started laughing but the smoldering glare the cat gave you made you think otherwise. The stone wall was surprisingly cold for the summer sun and as you sat down, you took a look at Scone. He seemed to still be quite grumpy, but he knew you from earlier in the week, so he was not alarmed. You lifted up and moved your left arm forward to start petting him.

Scone was soft and clearly well-taken care of. His fur was clean and had no knots or dirt insight, despite laying around a garden for half a day. You continued your actions and the both of you started to fall back into slumber. Your hand hovered on the back of the feline and your head slumped alongside your body.

It was peaceful. With birds chirping and the wind lightly blowing. There was a river babbling somewhere in the background and it made for a serene scene. The only reason he had let you pet him was because you had fed him earlier in the week. He didn’t have his collar at that point so this was the first time you had gotten his name. Your eyes closed as you recalled the event from a couple of days prior.

The day after the plane landed you were on the hunt for felines. Armed with some cat food, a retractable mouse-on-a-stick and hope, you made your way around the building England had set aside for housing the rampant countries, and byproduct, their cats. France’s cat, Monsieur, was an absolute attention wh-. He really liked attention, and would rub himself against your leg anytime the two of you crossed paths. It’s not like France, or Francis, was much better.

It’s not like you minded petting him. He was adorable after all. The cat, not Francis. But you had wanted to meet as many other cats as you could and so you had to stop by Francis’ room multiple times to drop off Monsieur.

“Je suis désolé.” He said, taking Monsieur out of your arms. “He keeps getting out. But I guess he knows when there’s a lovely lady around.”

You ignored his attempts at flirting and instead scratched Monsieur’s chin one last time before leaving. He purred at you and while you felt bad about leaving him, you were on a mission! Besides, you had a certain Japanese cat to track down. Monsieur meowed at you as you walked down the hallway and if you didn’t know better you’d say so did Francis.

Either way, nothing was going to stop you from petting Tama, Japan’s cat. He was an adorable little black and white feline with the cutest little bob for a tail. You had actually spotted him earlier and was about to go up to him before Monsieur literally jumped into your arms, demanding attention. Of course you weren’t going to say no so Tama quickly left your sight as you went to return Monsieur. 

Wait, isn't Monsieur just sir in French? Oh well there was no time to think about questionable cat names, this building was full of them.

Monsieur wasn’t the only attention whore of a cat. Prussia’s cat, Purrussia, wasn’t much better. He would follow you down hallways and meow with his scratchy meow at you while Austria’s cat, Allegro, whined behind him. He literally tried to jump up at you a few times.

Of course both of them were interrupted when Hero ran straight at you and tackled you like a professional linebacker. You had thought that it was mostly fluff, but no, apparently Hero could pack a punch. He knocked the wind out of you as you fell backwards onto the tiled floor. The cat sat proudly on you and looked around like he was waiting for something or someone. Whoever he was waiting for, however, wouldn’t show up fast enough to see Purrussia return the favor and tackle Hero off of you, much to Allegro’s horror. 

The white cat had a German ribbon as well but it looked like it was fraying at the edges. The reason you were bringing this up was because Hero was currently using one of the edges to try to choke Purrussia and Allegro was using the other to try to pull Purrussia away from Hero. Neither was really working and all it was really doing was making Purrussia more and more agitated.

“PURRUSSIA!!!” A shrill voice yelled out from down the hallway.

The cats stopped their roughhousing to see two of the countries barrelling down towards them. Well Prussia was. Austria was slowly walking over, looking more inconvenienced than anything else.

“Purrussia! Purrussia!” Prussia reiterated, pulling his cat up by its arms. “Did jou vin?!”

Everyone but the two Prussians stared in disbelief at his statement. The albino feline furiously nodded his head and if he could have talked you would have imagined that he would have been saying, ‘I’m awesome!’

Hero angrily meowed down below, as if to oppose Purrussia’s non-verbal statement. Allegro just haughtily licked his paw and stuck his nose up as if to pretend that he was disgusted with their fighting as if he hadn’t just been a part of it. Austria picked up his in-denial cat and you picked up Hero who calmed down as soon as you did. 

“Sorry about him.” You said, brushing his unruly fur down with your hand. “He gets a little competitive.”

“Ja. It’s fine.” Austria said, petting his own cat. “Purrussia is not much better.”

“HEY!” Prussia yelled. “My awesome Purrussia is doing his best! And besides, at least he actually does something!”

“Jour cat picked a fight vith a vall (wall) Gilbert.” Austria sassed.

“Vell jour cat’s piano playing is trash!”

Austria gave a gasp of horror before inching closer to the Prussian.

“Jou take zat back, RIGHT NOW!”

Prussia just laughed, still letting Purrussia’s back paws dangle as he held him like one would a toddler. He got in close to the Austrian’s face, smiling deviously at him.

“Nein.”

He suddenly, while still holding Purrussia, took off, running away from Austria. He wasn’t far behind though and you could hear the man yelling in German all the way down the far corridor.

“Well Hero.” You said, looking down at the cat who had made himself very comfortable. “That was weird.”

He just snuggled closer to you and you sighed. You scratched him once more before heading down the opposite hallway. The destination was clear, before you could continue your cat quest, you’d have to get this one safely back to its owner.

You suddenly snapped back to reality, still sitting on the wall. The sun was now high in the sky and the spot underneath you was no longer cold. You were especially warm as you now had a Scottish Fold sitting comfortably upon your lap. Quietly cooing at the cat, you looked to see if there was any way to escape your furry prison. The most important rule of cats: once a cat sits on you, you’re not moving until they do.

You sighed, legs uncomfortably stiff. Scone was far more content and his bushy tail occasionally brushed against your leg. It was incredibly cute but it didn’t make your back stop hurting from being hunched over for the last half hour.

Voices came from farther within the garden. There were two people currently engaged in a soft conversation. You caught bits and pieces of it; there was a man with a British accent and a man with what you thought was American until you heard him say ‘aboot.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at your own observation, disturbing Scone in the process.

He scornfully meowed at you and you offered pets in an apology. Around the corner turned Scone’s owner and a man who looked incredibly similar to America. They both turned to look at you when the Scottish Fold you were fondling stretched out to impossible lengths and complained like a cat while he did it. England looked down at your lap to see his cat very happily cushioned on your thighs. The man next to him was also holding a cat who again looked very similar to America’s.

They were clearly different though. This man’s hair was more auburn and his eyes were a shade of impossible purple. There was also more of a wave to it whereas America’s hair was as straight as hair comes. Familiarity lit up in your eyes, not for the man however.

“Maple!” You exclaimed, wanting to go to the cat but also not willing to disturb the one on you. “How have you been?”

The men stared at you, wondering if you were talking to them or the cat. Of course Maple himself answered this as he jumped out of his owner’s arms and darted over to you. He gracefully climbed up the small wall and placed himself down by you. Scone was on your lap and he was nicer than Hero so as to not push him off. You moved one of your arms to pet Maple and kept the other on Scone. They were so cute you felt like you were going to explode.

“Oh.” A quiet voice spoke out. It came from the man behind England. “You’re Alfred’s secretary right?”

You smiled and nodded at the man. “And I assume that means you’re Canada, right?”

He looked a tad taken aback before nodding himself. “Yeah…” He trailed off and England instead picked up the conversation.

“I thought you were supposed to be watching his furrball cat, Hero.” He walked over and leaned against the wall.

“I was. But then he and Boris got into a catfight… and then America and Russia got into a catfight.”

Canada laughed in the background but quickly covered it up. England stared at Scone, looking to see if there was anyway to get him off of you without being scratched himself. He had enough injuries, that should have scarred had he not been a country, from the cat. He shivered a bit, though also began to pet the feline, scratching his under the chin.

“That sounds like those two.”

You hummed in agreement, continuing your affections. Canada also came over to pet his own cat who ironically did smell like maple syrup. 

“Can I make you the villain of this story?” You asked England, gesturing to Scone. “I do actually have somewhere I need to be.”

“Oh I suppose I can assume that role.” He mused, carefully picking up his cat. He was not happy to be moved but England just shushed him.

Canada also picked up his cat who was slightly nicer about the whole thing. He fidgeted with Maple’s ear as he held him.

“I’m Matthew.” He said, carefully shifting Maple so he could put one arm out to shake your hand.

You finished the formal greeting. “I’m (Y/n).”

The other blonde butted in from the background. “I’m Arthur, love.”

“It’s very nice to formally meet both of you. Seeing you from across a meeting room doesn’t really count.” You smiled and gave a small pat to each of the feline’s heads. “Well I wasn’t kidding about needing to get somewhere. I really didn’t mean to get stopped as long as I did.” 

You playfully glared at the Scottish Fold sitting comfortably in his owner's arms. He promptly ignored you, instead turning around cutely. England apologized but you told him it was fine. You were at least 50% sure that Mr. Jones was probably still fighting with Russia. Those two really were like angry cats. You waved the two men off and went on your way to find out the answer to that question.

Instead of coming across two feuding superpowers, you came across two of the Asian nations’ cats. You had already met them both but this was the first time you were seeing them together. Tama was sitting up high on a shelf while China’s cat, Meowzedong, was angrily meowing at him from down below. Everytime he tried to climb up, Tama would use a paw and swipe a book or other object down at him.

You flinched as a very breakable, very expensive-looking, vase crashed down. It was this movement that alerted the two cats to your presence and Meowzedong wasted no time at all to come over to you and complain. Now you couldn’t exactly speak cat but you got the jist.

Bending down, you carefully picked up the cat. Meowzedong always had a weird clump of fur that looked almost like a ponytail that, no matter how much China cut it, always grew back. He yowled at you and pointed a furry paw in Tama’s direction. The other cat had already loafed on top of the high shelf and you looked at him, back at Meowzedong, back at Tama, and then back at Meowzedong again.

“I don’t know how tall you think I am but I’m not that tall.”

Meowzedong just narrowed his eyes and meowed at you again. You sighed, looking back at Tama. If he had a long enough tail to flick it at you he would’ve. Sensing the futility of his quest, Meowzedong instead spread himself out in your arms and if you didn’t know better you would have said that he was mocking Tama. And if you really didn’t know better you’d say that it was working and that the bobtail was getting more irritated by the second. The personifications might have had to act cordial but their cats had no such qualms.

Finally, Tama de-loafed himself and gracefully hopped down a few other layers before reaching the bottom. He gracefully walked over to you and sat on your foot… Well shoot. What were you supposed to do now?

So here you were, from one cat prison to the next. Standing in the middle of some random, out-of-the-way hallway because the nations’ cats were all attention-hogging, though very adorable, brats.

You didn’t know how much time had actually passed. There was no clock in the hallway, you didn’t wear a watch, and both of your hands were occupied so you couldn’t check your phone. As cute as they were, your legs felt like they were about to collapse in on themselves. You couldn’t even shift how you were standing because Tama had taken it upon himself to lay across both of your shoes. Your arms also felt like they were going to fall off at any second. Meowzedong wasn’t a particularly heavy cat but try holding anything over five pounds for longer than five minutes.

You were desperately hoping that either they would finally get bored and leave or someone would come to save you. Wow you guessed you really did need a “Hero” right about now… Dammit you thought that referencing needing a hero in your head would magically summon America or his equally hotheaded cat.

“Tama. Meowzedong.” You murmured. “Can you please get off?” You hoped to whatever god or gods were out there that they didn’t hear the desperation in your voice. Never show weakness to a cat.

The two cats made eye contact with each other for a moment and seemed to come to an agreement. Meowzedong stretched his body out before jumping onto the ground. Tama did the same but instead greeted Meowzedong when he landed.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration if you said that you collapsed onto the wooden floor below. You quickly got up however as you didn’t want them to see it as another chance to sit on you. At least not right now. You pulled out your phone to see all of the messages and calls you missed. You had put it on silent while watching Hero and forgot to turn it back to vibrate.

‘Oh my god Mr. Jones called me twenty-three times.’ You thought, frantic. ‘I’m gonna be in so much trouble!’

You raced down the hallway, startling a group of micronations as you went. There was no time to apologize! You had to keep your job! If not for you then for the cats!

Not even thinking to knock you burst open the door where America was staying, side note why wasn’t it locked? And were greeted with the sight of!... Mr. Jones… crying? His cat looked pretty dejected too and was currently hanging himself off the side of the bed like a rug.

“Sir?” His head shot up to look at you.

He quickly snapped his head back away, mushing at his face in an attempt to try to make it seem like he wasn’t crying.

“(Y-Y/n)” He stuttered for a second, before immediately going back to the hero persona. “Where’ve you been!?”

“Are you okay?” You ignore him, instead asking your own question.

You titiled your body to look at what he was looking at… Was that a framed picture of you?!

It didn’t matter because he was very quickly all in your face again. You could see what seemed to be a rapidly healing black eye and a tooth that hadn’t fully regrown in yet as he smiled at you. Just how long was he fighting with Russia for?

You sat him down on his bed, considering if you should even bother getting a medkit for him. Either way you ended up spending the rest of the day with him, watching movies and sitting what you considered a good ways away from each other on the plush couch. He apparently had a nicer room in all of England’s properties from when he used to live there during parts of the year.

Hero filled the gap in-between you of which America was mildly annoyed about. He kept trying to get you to use ‘Alfred’ but you insisted that it was unprofessional. He’d close the gap one day.

[mercurycft]

𝐑𝐔’𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ✧.*

*·˚ !! requests are currently: open!

love, always — RGx

@excpeii - ALT ACC! <3

✧ - 𝐚𝐰𝐟𝐜 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ruiner (angst) - part 1

— r gets sick of biting her tongue around jonas & the other girls. when things blow up, she threatens to leave the club behind forever. what happens when she actually does?

let me go (angst) READ WARNINGS! - part 1

— r has been struggling with their mental health for years, and the team has always been there. a particularly bad relapse takes a turn for the worst and puts the team in a situation they will never forget.

✧ - 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬

leah williamson : a team effort - read it here!

leah williamson : two blue lines - coming soon

leah williamson : motherhood - coming soon

leah williamson / beth mead : you're still the one - read it here!

✧ - 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐳𝐞

captain's sister (18+) - part 1

— a night of celebrations lead to lucy and r carrying leah back to her room, like usual. leah, an overprotective older sister, had set clear boundaries. but what happens when the right-back is left alone with her captain’s sister..

jealousy & invites (18+) - part 1

— lucy was an easy jealous - overly protective and overly agitated. after r and leah have a particularly handsy dance, a very exciting idea springs to lucy’s mind.

is it over now? (angst) - part 1

— keira and lucy had been having problems for a while. no fighting, no arguing. silent problems. after lucy up left unannounced, then shows up uninvited two weeks later. what was keira supposed to do?

three strikes (18+) - part 1 , part 2

— friends, maybe? attracted to each other, absolutely. three strikes is enough to have r right in the palm of her hand. it was just a matter of time.

✧ - 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐞

saint (18+) - part 1

— best friends can flirt, can post pictures that make fan’s head spin. but when they find themselves locked in a cubicle after an act of jealousy, can they be just best friends..

too sweet (18+) - part 1

— after katie gets a tattoo from r, a friendship blossoms. until one day they, for some reason, just stop talking. but when katie turns up at r’s house on a random friday. how will they resolve what happened?

✧ - 𝐤𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐡

is it over now? (angst) - part 1

— keira and lucy had been having problems for a while. no fighting, no arguing. silent problems. after lucy up left unannounced, then shows up uninvited two weeks later. what was keira supposed to do?

grown - part 1

— keira, georgia and leah. the story of their friendship. the ups, the downs, the fights and the laughs. the three best friends…. and maybe lucy.

✧ - 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧

grown - part 1

— keira, georgia and leah. the story of their friendship. the ups, the downs, the fights and the laughs. the three best friends…. and maybe lucy.

ugh (18+) - part 1

— r & leah’s friendship took a turn for the worst after her acl injury, r gave up trying to support someone who was convinced they didn’t need it. r finally snaps and leah’s reaction is… confusing.

✧ - 𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐲

grown - part 1

— keira, georgia and leah. the story of their friendship. the ups, the downs, the fights and the laughs. the three best friends…. and maybe lucy.

𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 ✧.*

a collection of little social media fics/ficlets for player x reader !!

✧ - 𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐜𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐞

soft launch - read it here! - behind the posts

— this is how i imagine soft launching your relationship with katie would go, and obviously it would have to be whilst you were both on holiday! featuring the awfc girls!

hard launch - read it here! - behind the posts

— you and katie have been dating secretly (not really) for an entire year, and you decide that your anniversary is the perfect time to tell the world! featuring the awfc girls!

✧ - 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐡 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧

soft launch - read it here! - behind the posts

— leah's birthday posts before and after a team and friend trip to Ibiza get fans stirring up the rumours of a relationship. do they play into it? probably!

graduation - read it here! - behind the posts

— after graduating, you and leah think it’s time the world got to know the news about your relationship, in the form of a little instagram soft launch! featuring the awfc girls & lionesses!

✧ - 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐳𝐞

unlikely pair - read it here! - behind the posts

— after going to see a show on the west end whilst back in london for international duty, lucy meets r and an unlikely romance blossoms between the two!

[hwsing]

more nsfw for england please (i dont really need anything specific i just wanna know ur take on him) 🙏

what the brit’s like in bed

notes: 18+, reader is afab and gender neutral. includes: england (arthur kirkland) as always, reblogs are appreciated!

cw: this is more blabbing than a coherent fic; discussion of arthur present and past. reader is described like they’re mortal for the majority of this. arthur is perverted; both soft and hard sex mentioned, very light bondage, blowjobs and cunninglings, mostly dom!arthur, phone sex, panty stealing, voice kink, roleplay, mention of spanking, daddy kink, body worship, praise. wc: about 1.6k. not proof read

in the modern day, arthur is… old. even if you hc him to still look like a twink, (cant say i agree but moving on,) spiritually and mentally he is old. he’s seen many many things — including quite a bit of sex. he’s by no means a stranger to it; don’t let his prudish attitude these days fool you. he’s gone through quite a few eras of his life where he viewed sex far more carelessly than he does now. although, even know, i dont think he’s quite uptight about it as one would think.. it’s just that he has standards now. he’d probably put it like that. whereas, back in the day, he probably viewed sex as something of a conquest. now, he sees it more as a connection between two (or more — although i do think he’s monogamous) people. that connection doesn’t have to be love — sometimes, it’s just a need for another body. arthur is a romantic deep down, though. likely because there’s been so many eras in his life when he was anything but romantic, he can’t help but crave it nowadays.

that being said, arthur now 100% believes in making love. i’m talking the whole 10 yards; he’ll hold your hands as he rocks his hips into yours, meticulous about fucking you deep and slow, even cooing at you. his heart feels heavier than it ever has before when you look up at him so sweetly; he almost always makes you cum at least once or twice before you even have sex with his fingers and mouth — both to tease you a bit and to prep you to be easier to fuck. as much as arthur often treats you like glass, he can’t help but take advantage of your dependence on him during times like this.

maybe it’s something left over from his olden days. something in him that craves ego and control; but……. how is he supposed to not get a bit of a power treat as he coaxes you onto your knees, having tied your wrists together with his belt, leaving you to sit obediently looking up at him? his face always feels so hot as he gets so much attention, but you’ll hardly see a peak of a blush as you suck him off. he especially likes when he’s still in his office wear clothes. the suits and all that, you know, the sleek shoes… really sets in the mood for him. if he’s feeling particularly mean that day, he’ll even suggest you get yourself off on his shoe as you sit there. watching you shyly try to grind yourself on his shoe, only to start pathetically rutting when you finally get close; he almost forgets his cock is shoved down your throat as he cums, his hards keeping your head there for a moment as you whine, forcing you to swallow his load. i already wrote about how he likes to go down on his partner here, so go read that if you havent yet <3

arthur is a pretty busy guy. he’s more involved in his country’s politics than some of the other nations, which leads to him working a lot… sometimes overseas. or, worse, you guys are already a long distance couple as it is (don’t worry, though. regardless, he’ll want you to move in by year three, and that’s the long guess; when arthur is in love, he’s in love.) basically, there’s bound to be times when you’re away from each other quite a bit. arthur would probably rather die than show himself as clingy — ugh, even thinking about it makes his brow furrow. and so, he may or may not have discreetly taken a pair of used underwear with him… just for when he really needs it! he’s not some perverted demon, okay? he can use his own imagination… it’s just… it’s so much easier with your used panties wrapped around his cock as he pumps… of course he took a sniff first to help him really picture the scene — stop, he’s not weird! the next night, though, he’s likely to call you up. first, it’s a pretty normal call, but he transitions the conversation to what he wants with a surprising amount of smoothness. maybe it’s just his voice that can easily coax you to do as he wants — oh, right. if you have a thing for his voice at all — and i meant at all, he will pick up on it and 100% use it against you.

he’s bigger on dirty talk than he’d like to admit. he just can’t help it — especially over the phone, what else is he supposed to do?!! his usually stable voice is almost breathy as he tells you what to do; he’s guiding you through the entire thing. if you whine at all about how you can’t do it like he can, he’s so quick to encourage you. various petnames like love, darling, and good girl/boy/etc are falling off his tongue as he coos you. it makes his heart flutter and dick twitch when you’re the needy one.

he’s always going to tease you about it a bit, especially if you’re shy about it. he’ll show faux sympathy for the way you blush and look away, grasping your face back to look at him; “what ever could have you so worked up like this, i wonder?” he’ll ask, tilting his head as he looks at you with a knowing, smug smile tugging at his thin lips. when you murmur about how he shouldn’t tease, he’ll claim that he was only asking an honest question. he’ll encourage you, saying that if there’s you want, you’ll have to use your words. when you inevitably say you want him to fuck you, or that you want his cock, he’ll chuckle, the cheekiest blush dusting lightly over his cheeks. “oh, that’s what you’re after, is it?” he muses, unbuckling his belt. “ask for it properly, then.”

as you can imagine, arthur quite like titles. he doesn’t think it’s something he really needs, but when you whimper for daddy or even sir, perhaps master if the situation calls for it, he almost cums every time. arthur tries pretty hard to stay as the one in control, but you make it awfully hard for him to not bend you over the kitchen table and take you when you start to use the term so causally. in private, of course. he’d probably die if you ever called him that in public. he definitely thinks its a very… intimate matter, so it would catch him quite off guard for you to say it outside of the bedroom but still inside the comfort of your own home. he’ll look over at you, jaw clenching as he sees your pretend innocence, smiling at him as if you only called him dear. what a tease — he can’t have that, of course. seems like you’ll need some discipline.

on a lighter note, arthur really does love your body, whatever that may look like. at his age, any sense of a physical type has sort of faded, anyways. he’ll take his time to kiss all over you, groping you ad sweetly as one can as he tells you how beautiful you are. he can find it a bit difficult to express how much he loves you sometimes, but he’s adamant on making sure you can feel how much he cherishes you during such intimate moments. he finds himself quite flustered if you ever do it back; kissing along his neck as you unbutton his shirt, whispering about how much you need him while palming his cock, telling him how good he makes you feel; he thinks about it for weeks after, though. totally worth it.

i almost forgot! arthur is a very creative and imaginative person. while he does always imagine you as you, some of the sexual power dynamics that develop in the relationship can’t help but make him wonder… what if you were his servant? he’ll get you a maid or butler outfit or whatever you want — it’ll be a slightly more skimpy version, of course, but still realistic enough for him to have his fantasy. the scene would probably go something like; you’re his new servant, who’s a bit of a mess but means well. he comes home from a particularly stressful day at work, and after you spill the tea you were going to serve him, he spanks you as punishment. he gets really into it — of course, lots of aftercare, don’t even worry about that. he’ll be a bit apologetic about the marks lingering on the flesh of your ass for the days to come, but he also definitely feels a certain type of way about it. he doesn’t love any obvious marks — not today, anyways. punk arthur and pirate arthur were probably more into hickies littering their partners neck, but modern arthur thinks it’s trashy… so secret marks like this, that no one else but him can see? when you sit down and wince a little, and he’s the only one that knows why? woo!

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Mary Earps x Reader

Flatmates & Handshakes

Part of the Beth McCarthy mini song series

Friendship Bracelet

I'm not bitter

I'm happy you're happy, it's just

I loved you first

And it's not like it was easy

But we had each other

Now you have another

And I hate it, I hate it

So go ahead and burn my friendship bracelet

Your eyes were locked in, eyebrows furrowed and squinting slightly to assert dominance as you sauntered up to the penalty spot opposite Mary. She had that dirty smirk on her face that she does when she’s trying to intimidate people but that doesn’t work on you - she knew that so you wondered why she’s even trying! You’d been friends for years and became roommates after you both joined Man U but since moving to Barcelona, you’re now on the opposite side of the field. As the ref tried to sort out a ruckus between the players behind, you cemented the spot as yours. Nobody knows you like Mary.. but nobody knows Mary like you either. Endless days of practicing penalties against her probably makes her think she can read you like a book. But you know her tactics too; how she reads body language and positioning, studies every member of a team before a game and has player stats on her water bottle. You noticed she didn’t check it for you though, clearly thinking she had this one in the bag. Since leaving the country for Spain you hadn’t kept in contact at all, she’d unfollowed you on social media and blocked your number. It’s sad but it’s not your fault, she’s the one that ruined the friendship.

From teenagers you’d grown into women together, spending nights holding each other’s hair back over a toilet is where your friendship blossomed after your under 19 games. She was a liability but she was your liability and equally you were hers - always taking it in turns to be the sensible one. As you grew up, both of you realised you wanted to take football more seriously and those nights became few and far between… probably for the best really! Your late nights turned into bleary eyed car rides and sitting on the boot analysing the stars. Sometimes you would catch yourself missing it when you were driving home in the dark by yourself, wondering if she looks at the stars and thinks of you too. Those were the days when days were simple. You had plans to grow old together in the same care home causing havoc everyday but moving in together you soon realised you weren’t compatible as roommates. Well.. it wasn’t Mary that was the problem, she was your platonic soulmate, it was her boyfriend that caused the breakdown in your friendship. Mary’s boyfriend took great offence to the different people you bought home most weekends, he didn’t want Mary around that and for someone who never had a problem with it, she soon took his side over yours. You were young and single, what else was there to do? She used to be like that too until she wanted something better.

You’re not bitter, you just hate the way things were left. It was a huge row fuelled by her boyfriend being home one night when you bought yet another person back to the flat. He lit the spark, making one simple comment then sat back and watched Mary implode; throwing you out along with all of your belongings in the middle of the night. Ripping her friendship bracelet off like you would a wedding ring and throwing it as she slammed the door in your face. Luckily, that’s when Barca approached and just in time to get you out of the WSL and out of the country.

Unfortunately for you though Man U had qualified for the Champion’s League this season which meant playing them and her in the quarter final. There’s nothing you would have loved more than to be benched for this game but you’d really come on leaps and bounds since being at Barca. They’d developed your game into something you could have only dreamed about when you were little and was now a firm starter on the team. Unluckily for Mary, you were their star penalty taker too.

After one misplaced and badly timed tackle caused Geyse to fall to the floor inside the box, a penalty was immediately awarded. The score was currently 1-1 and with not a lot of time left on the clock, this was your time to shine. Mary had the longest clean sheet streak in the WSL and was only a few games away from making women’s football history. You know how much keeping her clean sheet means to her which meant you had to break it. There’s nothing you want more than to rip her streak away from her and rub that smug look off of her face.

You knew she would never expect you to shoot with your left foot, but that’s just one skill you’d picked up in Spain that she didn’t know about yet. Yeah, it’s your weaker foot but it’s your highest chance of getting it past the best goalie in the world - as much as you hated her winning that award, you knew she deserved it. The ref’s whistle hurtled through your ears as you started your run up. Making sure you didn’t give her any inkling of what way you were going until the last possible second. Watching her dive left as you shot right -

GOOOOOAAAAALLLLL!!!!!

Not waiting for the ball to hit the back of the net you ran to the fans, knee sliding into the corner as you were bundled from behind by your teammates. One by one the bodies plucked themselves from you just as they were replaying the goal on the big screen. Looking up to see Mary’s pissed off face projected onto it made you the happiest you’d been in ages, revenge certainly feels sweet!

Confidently taking your time strolling to the middle of the pitch to restart, nothing could wipe the happy little smirk off your face. Touching the ball a few times before the final whistle blew and cementing your team into the championship final. Shaking hands with your old teammates who passed you and chatting to the few who stopped to catch up, you didn’t see Mary approach from behind. Gloved hands grabbed your shoulders and turned your body around to face her, “when did you learn to shoot with your left foot?” her voice sounding annoyed and a little impressed at the same time. “Few months ago, been saving it for a special occasion” you shrugged, not knowing what the reaction would be to your response. “Oh and you thought ruining my streak was a special occasion aih?” her voice animated as she nudged your ribs. “It was the only way I’d get it past the best goalie in the world” a hint of sarcasm in your sentence raised a small one sided smile from your ex best friend. “If anyone was going to ruin it, I’m glad it was you” taking your hand in hers and pulling your chests into each other. Disentangling your limbs you sensed a slight glimmer in both your eyes, wondering if the other remembered your old handshake. A few seconds passed as the situation was assessed by both of you before bursting into amateur dramatics and performing the handshake that was created on your 17th birthday.

Laughing together in the middle of the pitch you stopped suddenly, tilting your head to one side and sighing. “I’ve missed you” taking the first step of admitting the truth about the estranged friendship. Throwing her arm around your shoulders as you walked towards the dugouts, “me too, we’ve got lots to catch up on” Mary smiled disappearing up the tunnel together, loud giggling echoing off the metal walls.

[lfc21]

Lazy mornings

Player: Jude Bellingham

TW: Fluff

Authors note: This is my first Jude Bellingham imagine! I hope you all like it 💓

"Don't leave," you mumbled as you slightly opened your eyes and watched as your boyfriend sat on the edge of the bed. Is toned back facing you as he ran his hands over his eyes in order to remove the tired morning sight.

"I need a wee," you heard Jude say back with a laugh as he turned around to your resting body. His hand fell onto your cheek as he pushed away the odd hair in which laid on your face. His smile was so delicate, and his body suited so well on your fresh white sheets.

"Oh then, please go to the bathroom," you quickly said with a laugh as you sat yourself up and watched Jude clambering the bed. "I would prefer to keep a white bed rather than yellow," you added as you shouted so he could hear you from the bathroom. It is very rare that you and Jude ever get to have a quiet morning with the sound of the TV playing and your arms wrapped in one another's.

"I heard that," Jude announced as he came back into the room with a giggle falling from his mouth. You where sat up against the grey headboard as you watched his large body jump back into bed. His head rested on your bare thigh once the white sheets fell from your legs and all onto his side. You had never met someone so needy for a duvet. Jude did not know what the word sharing was and had no intention of learning it.

"What do you want to do today?" You asked as you watched his face rest on your leg and his arm rap around the other. He became a baby under your touch.

"Stay here," He answered with a mumble. He kissed the skin off your leg as your hands wandered through his dark hair. You often wondered if he had always been this soft, or was it just your power?

"We can't stay here all day," you explained with a laugh as you watched his eyes shut at the feeling of your fingers against his hair.

"Hmmmm, whatever you say," Jude whispered as he started to draw random lines across your skin with his eyes still completely shut. His breath was delicate against you, and you knew how much a quite relaxing morning would help him after such a busy week. You loved life like this. Perfect and lazy.

Hey guys 👋🏻 Thank you for reading. It really means alot, be sure to send feedback and requests ❤️ Hope you have the best day 💌

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[worldheadcanons]

Could you do the allies confessing to their crush? Something super fluffy ｡◕‿◕｡

☆ the allies: confessing to their crush!

starring. . . gender neutral, country! reader and england, america, france, china, + russia. warning for brief mentions of gore + murder (horror movie stuff) under russia’s part.

author notes; i wrote some of this on a plane at 3 am and i’m sorry if it shows through. live laugh love country!reader concepts. I know it wasn’t apart of the original ask but it felt necessary (i wanted to add it).

arthur kirkland!

— when he first fell for you, he had tried to ignore his feelings. so what if his heart skipped a beat whenever you complimented his proposals? you were just coworkers. just two people who attended the same meetings, talked often after said meetings, made coffee for each other, smiled and laughed together... just two coworkers. that’s all you ever were and all you ever would be. at least, that’s what kirkland thought at first.

— obviously, the ‘ignore and forget’ method didn’t work out for him. after a week or so he woke up and smelled the roses, realizing that his feelings weren’t going anywhere. arthur started to try and flirt with you at the office, complimenting your outfits and holding every door he could for you. francis never failed to tease him over his attempts at wooing you.

— he went on for weeks, lightly flirting and pining over you. kirkland could be cowardly when it came to affairs of the heart. he was never a romantic man, even when he was an empire. he feared your rejection more than anything, refusing to take you out on a date even though he spoke of you all the time. during a meeting one day, francis glanced from the englishman to you and then back at him. when you were out of earshot the frenchman whispered to arthur that if he didn’t grow up and ask you out, bonnefoy would ask you out instead. he couldn’t be sure if it was a joke or not, but there was no way in hell he’d let francis ask you out. the mere possibility of it kicked kirkland into gear. after the meeting had been dismissed, he pulled you to the side. 

— he gently took your hands into his, as if he was about to say his vows. “y/n, i’ve been interested in you for quite some time,” arthur began, one hand going to the back of his neck as his gaze turned downwards. “i was wondering if we could meet up somewhere.. for a date, i mean.” it was awkward and slightly uncomfortable for him, but for you this was a dream come true. all this time he had scarcely noticed that you had been flirting back at him. you’d laugh a little too much at his stupid, sarcastic jokes. you'd find various excuses to talk to him directly during general meetings. you had picked up on his flirting early on and quickly reciprocated. every doubt about your feelings existed only in his mind.

— “i’d love that, arthur. how about some food from my country? i know this place that i think you’ll like,” you replied, smiling at the man in front of you. you brushed your thumbs across his knuckles. arthur grinned at your response, cheeks flushed pink. there you were, holding hands in the dim corner of an office corridor… and it felt like heaven, really. the two of you made plans to go out the same night, eager to spend time together outside of the office. 

— perhaps francis, being the country of love, had noticed the relationship issues you two were having. perhaps he had simply just wanted to bother the british man. either way, you made a note to yourself to thank him for his involvement in getting you two together.

alfred f. jones!

— classic case of ‘they fell first but he fell harder’. much harder. you had a huge crush on him previously. looking back, it wasn’t too foolish. you were a relatively smaller country and even though you weren’t new, you were still getting your bearings down. you were a beginner in many aspects and yet here he was, this grand country with lots of power and influence. you couldn’t help but fall for alfred. he was the american dream, literally. and the thing was, he was younger than you! 

— your crush was completely innocent, albeit a bit embarrassing. jones didn’t even notice it until matthew pointed out to him. at the time, he didn’t feel the same way. he wasn’t cruel, but he did let you know that he didn’t reciprocate those feelings. he didn’t want to lead you on, is all. your feelings didn’t die out but you decided not to act on them. things between the two of you evened our after that. months later, though, alfred started to look at you in a more.. romantic.. light. when you would talk to other powers like arthur or especially ivan, he’d feel.. oddly jealous. when you’d ask about his proposals his heart would beat faster while he answered. whenever he made you laugh, he’d feel like the luckiest man alive… yea, he had fallen flat on his face in love with you.

— once he realized he was in love, he began to flirt. jones wasn’t exactly the most subtle of flirts. the whole point of flirting was to catch attention, wasn’t it? so that’s what he did. he went out of his way to help you whenever he could, flashing you a charming grin as he did so. once he got an opportunity to show off his muscles, something he was happy about. he even ended up letting you touch them. alfred had no issue asking you out to lunch, sneakily taking your hand into his as he leads you to some cool, new lunch spot he’s been hearing about. 

— his only issue was the fact that he’d rejected you before.. he worried that you were no longer interested. jones knew that you liked him as a person, otherwise you wouldn’t have hung out with him like you have been for the past few weeks. he just couldn’t be sure. still, he really liked you. after a bit of internal debate, he decided to just ask you out. it couldn’t hurt, really. the worst you could say was no. no risk, no reward. alfred tried to keep those thoughts in mind as he ate with you on your now routine lunch break dates. well.. not real a date, but the idea was there.

— “so, y/n,” he began, eating some fries before continuing on, “what would you say.. if a certain hero, not naming names.. wanted to ask you out on a date sometime. if this hero asked you out for dinner and dancing on.. say saturday? would you say yes?” jones offered you a smile. it was slightly sheepish but mostly cute. his boyish charm worked to his advantage, making your heart melt. he was like a human puppy.

—  you chuckled before replying, “i would say yes. but he’s paying for the full thing.” he pouted at that but you were stubborn with your terms. it was the least he could do considering how long he had you pining after him!

francis bonnefoy!

— your country and his were in the middle of making major economic deals. you had lots of resources and bonnefoy seemed to want them. it was for that reason and that reason only that you had ever given the man your phone number. you were hoping to discuss things in detail over the phone. unfortunately, francis seemed to call you to talk about everything but proper terms to your proposed deal. he’d always ask about your day first before launching into his own day and giving you a play by play on every event he found significant. it was frustrating, however, since you were a smaller country you couldn’t exactly force him into thinking about work.

— you were well aware that on the other side of the line, bonnefoy would be laid in bed, twirling his hair and kicking his feet. his love for you was a love meant for youth. it was freeing, feeling this sort of love at his age. he felt giggly just hearing your voice, despite the fact that you mostly gave one word responses to him. he was, as alfred and matthew liked to put it, whipped. he was whipped for you. other countries started to pick up on this fact, realizing that he barely flirted with anyone anymore. francis only ever spoke of you, a lovesick smile on his face as he did so. you were aware of his feelings but no one was aware of yours. you had grown fond of the frenchman’s personality, occasionally finding yourself smiling and when you heard his voice on the phone.

— he had to ask you out and confess his undying love. he just had to. he couldn’t call himself the country of love if he didn’t. so he called you up in the morning one day, asking you to come over for dinner. at first, you refused to budge, claiming it to be a waste of time. however, once bonnefoy promised to read over your proposals, you sung a different tune. a free dinner couldn’t hurt. plus, it would be nice to taste the man’s cooking. you’d heard from your neighboring countries that he was a great chef. 

— so, that’s how you ended up in francis’ dining room that evening. you had brought a stack of legal papers to go through but they remained tucked away in your bag. you didn’t want any sort of mess to get on them. he set down a crisp white napkin over your lap before bringing the food. it smelled divine as he brought it out, something you didn’t neglect to comment on. once bonnefoy sat down you picked up your fork and eagerly began eating, humming in satisfaction at the taste. noticing your joy, he smiled. the frenchman commenced conversation with the same question he always asked. ‘how was your day?’. you answered with a short, ‘good’. then he sighed, rather dramatically in your opinion. 

— “i cannot hide it anymore, ma cheri*. i am in love with you! i love you as the tides love the moon and bees love honey. i need you more than i could ever want you and i already want you for all time! i spend my days yearning for your touch and—“ francis went on, proudly declaring his love to you. he probably would’ve kept going if you hadn’t cut him off with the sound of your laughter. you tried to keep yourself formal but you eventually ended up full on snort-laughing.

— “you were trying to hide it? bonnefoy, i could hear you giggling over the phone. it was never that much of a secret.” 

— he gasped. “i pour my heart out to you and this is how you respond?” he exclaimed, one hand going to his chest to cover his heart. “you’re so cruel!”

— “oh please. you like it,” you replied knowingly, taking another bite of your food. this was your way of reciprocating his feelings without actually saying you liked him. you were sure if you did say it outright he’d get a big head about it, something you didn’t want to deal with. 

— he chuckled a little, nodding his head in agreement. “i do.” he finished his meal and wiped his mouth before speaking. he then did something that made your heart flutter. he smiled at you and then said, “let‘s go over those proposals.” finally the work would get done. how romantic.

yao wang!

— the two of you were already close friends. it started a long while ago when you came to work completely dejected. when asked about it, you immediately spilled about your most recent breakup. instead of telling you his honest feelings about how tragically, humans and personifications could never truly be together, wang held you close and reassured you that your true love was her to be found. humans were plentiful. you were a capable person, smart too. you’d find someone to connect with. at the time you were a smaller country, so you were in awe that a power such as him would bother comforting you. 

— now though, you were a bigger country with more resources. you produced a lot of oil, so many other countries were interested in discussing things with you. you couldn’t even begin to count the amount of times you’ve had to reject invitations from countries like arthur or francis. the same countries that wouldn’t give you a second thought when you were younger. were now desperate to get on your good side. yao remained a good friend of yours, someone who was genuine with you. the two of you had both grown in many ways. one way you hadn’t grown, though, was in romance.

— you sighed dramatically as you plopped down onto wang’s couch. you had invited yourself over and as soon as he saw your face, he knew he was in for a long night. he idly handed you a small tub of your favorite ice cream and a spoon, humming as he flipped through the television channels to find something appropriate. yao kept a small supply of your favorite foods ever since he’d given you a key to his place. you took a huge scoop and stuck it in your mouth, stretching out so that your head was in his lap. 

— “i just don’t know what i’m doing wrong!” you exclaimed after eating the scoop. the relationship had lasted barely three months. “he said i was ‘nice’ but ‘emotionally absent’. bullshit! i gave him my heart, you know?” sure, you had avoided him a few times and maybe you weren’t the most.. there.. all the time.. it’s not like you liked someone else though! you were dating him!

— you had started to tear up and wang simply wiped away your tears. “you do deserve better,” he murmured. he let you sit for a while, gently comforting you as you cried and ate. after you had settled a bit, finishing your tub of ice cream, yao quietly asked you a question. “have you ever considered… dating another country?”

— “nope,” you sighed out, “when i was younger it seemed unrealistic. no countries really paid attention to me. now if they talk to me they’re only after my oil.” you looked up at him from where you were in his lap, his honey brown eyes looking back at you with the same amount of interest.

— he nodded his head gently in understanding before curtly replying with a sly smile.. “not me.”

— “you’re right, not you.. but you’re not interested in me.”

— “but i am,” wang replied softly. one hand of his went to run through your hair. it was a familiar action but it had different connotations now. connotations you didn’t particularly dislike.. connotations you.. maybe were fond of. your heart swelled at the thoughts you were having. maybe you’d liked him the whole time and just didn’t think in it— it would surely explain why your ex said you weren’t emotionally engaged.

— “you are?” you asked just to confirm what you already knew. your face had turned slightly red by this point. 

— “i am,” he repeated, chuckling softly at your reaction. not the smoothest confession he’d given but really, he couldn’t bare to see you date another human, another person in general. he wanted to be your next and final boyfriend. it’s not a sudden feeling for yao. it’s one that silently had built up over the years.. a feeling that he was sharing with you now.

— “why didn’t you say so sooner? i could’ve avoided so many break ups!” you exclaimed out after a few moments of quiet. he shrugged playfully before leaning down to kiss your nose. “you owe me so much! you know how many shitty guys i’ve dated! how long have you liked me?” you questioned him and he only laughed, shaking his head. “ugh yao! you’re lucky you’re cute!”

ivan braginsky!

— you and mr. braginsky had never been truly close. he was your northern neighbor, sure, but you had barely spoken to the man up until a few months ago at a meeting. he had proposed some sort of idea and, though he was a power, barely anyone payed attention to it. however, once you, a medium sized country with valuable military resources, co-signed on the idea, people seemed to pay attention more. it wasn’t an immediate yes to his proposal but it was better than being ignored. you couldn’t be bothered now to remember the details but ever since then the two of you had grown into an odd pair of friends, even going as far as to meet up outside of work.

— it was obvious to everyone else that he liked you. somehow you never managed to catch on, despite his best efforts. others would hint at it to you but you never connected the dots. you were far too focused all the work that being a country naturally entailed— it was admirable but at the same time, unfortunate, considering you also harbored a crush on him. the two of you simply never spoke about it so it was unrequited in both of your minds. ivan decided that day that he’d take you out to a horror slasher movie late after work. it was a movie he had been wanting to see for a while. plus, according to the internet, blood and guts made people feel all.. kissey. he wasn’t sure if that was true or not though.

— though you found ghostface hot, you didn’t particularly enjoy the horror genre outside of that. still, you decided to say yes to his invitation and accompany him to the movies that night. braginsky picked you up from your house as he often did. when you arrived, he held your hand in his as you both walked in and purchased tickets. you were able to score good seats in the back, something that made you grin. you bought the popcorn and he bought the drinks, effectively splitting the bill.

— the movie began and, really, it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. it was worse. you jumped a lot, clinging onto ivan’s arm and shoving more popcorn into your mouth as the protagonist watched her friend get sawed in half. every time you squeezed his arm, you’d half-glance over at him and apologize under your breath. it was terrifying but you couldn’t look away!

— there was a part in the movie where the protaganist’s boyfriend got ruthlessly killed by a chainsaw. you held onto him closely during this part, shrinking into your chair. ivan kept his focus on the screen but gently patted your head, “if it was me and you, i’d never get killed. i’d be there for you.”

— “how romantic,” you said almost sarcastically, chuckling. your laughter had nervous undertones. “save that for your girlfriend.”

— “i don’t have a girlfriend,” he replied quietly. things went silent for a few moments, save for the sounds of the movie, before he spoke up again. “i’d like to have you, though. we’d make a great couple.”

— you turned your head away from the sceeen, completely missing the part where the protagonist found out the identity of the serial killer that was after her. instead of watching the movie, you looked up at ivan who looked down at you with a small, awkward smile. you asked him if he had just asked you out. he nodded in response. you asked him if he meant it. again, he nodded. you finally asked him if he wanted to kiss. he eagerly nodded on that.

— the two of you kissed in the back of the move theater, not minding the fact that both of you were missing the movie ending. the kisses weren’t passionate but rather childish, as if you were simply getting acquainted to each other’s lips. it was dark and you two were quiet for the most part, so you wouldn’t disturb anyone. every other couple was probably kissing anyways. ivan supposed it was true. something about blood and guts really did make people kissey.

[eusouumfuckingkoala]

I don't even know your name (Arsenal Player x Reader)

a/n: English isn't my first language, I hope you guys enjoying it, let me know what you guys think?

Today while on vacation you got a mail saying you got promoted to work for a big client but they wouldn't tell you more until you get back, so your friends want to celebrate at a bar close to the Bay of Spain since you usually don't party took a while for them convince you to go, but today you feel like you deserve it you have been working this whole year for this, and also to get this client.

So here you are at a table watching your friends, you are talking with a few of them when you watch a group of girls get in laughing you lock eyes with a blue one making you both stop in your tracks, much like in the movies, but one of your friends pull you from the table to dance with her, pulling you to the dance floor.

I was with my friends enjoying the music when one of my friends lean in to talk to me so you could hear her over the music.

"Seem like you catch someone's eye." you frown not understanding what she means "The pretty blonde over there didn't take her eyes off you, since she walk-in."

I look in the direction she points and I see the blonde girl with blue eyes looking at me, some of her friends look at me realizing where she was looking, and starting to tease her she turns around brushing them off.

"I think you're mistaken beside I'm not interested right now."

"Y/N you are telling me that you have no interest in that gorgeous girl? I saw your face when she walks in. Also, stop living in the past."

"Whatever if you are so interested go talk to her." You walk off to the bar grabbing a drink.

I know I shouldn't live in the past but it's kind of hard when your past relationships always end up with your heart broken, making you always feel like you aren't good enough, that you aren't worth it of someone else's love or maybe your love isn't enough. Anyway I don't even know what I'm thinking of course she is gorgeous but it's not like someone you saw in a bar is looking for a relationship besides you are on vacation you came to have fun with your friends and relax.

You are so deep in your thoughts that you haven't noticed that the blonde was making her way to you, so once you turn around you almost slip your drink over her.

"Oh god, I'm sorry!"

"No problem, it's not like you slip the drink on me" the blonde looked at me with a smile "Should have come earlier so I could buy you a drink."

"Sorry but I don't take drinks from strangers." you tease smiling at her.

"S-smart women, what about a dance would you accept it?"

"Depends, are you asking me to dance with you?"

"What if I am?"

"I would say yes but since no one asks." you struggle your shoulders and smile at her before making your way past her to your friends.

You could feel her eyes on you, and that was confirmed by my friends when I got to them they start teasing me, I sit down and saw the blonde talking with one of her friends, there is no denying how gorgeous she is with such a natural glow, bright eyes, she was breathtaking but also out of your league.

"What happened?" one of your friends asks.

"Honestly, I don't know." you laugh a bit.

You aren't lying you didn't know what had happened or where the courage came from for you to just tease her and walk away, maybe you want her to follow even though your mind says that's stupid cause you don't even know her name, but that smile makes you feel something you haven't felt before, you try to take that thought of your mind this was pointless beside she probably not that interested.

On the other hand, the mystery girl find it amusing that you aren't an easy person, but also she was nervous, not once had she ever liked this type of game, but the way she got nervous around you just make her see this wasn't a game she was attracted to you, she wants to know you more then anyone else she ever meets it wasn't like she was interested in every boy and girl that hit on her, she liked that you either don't know who she is or you don't care at all.

You are having fun with your friends when everyone got a bit quiet so you look behind you, seeing the blonde standing right behind you ready to touch your shoulder to get your attention.

"Hi...I..." she stutters over her words you smile finding it cute to see her like this, she extends her hand to you "Can I have this dance with you?"

Your friends start to push you in her direction you grab her hand.

"Of course!"

You smile at her getting up, and she takes you to the dance floor never letting go of your hand, once you got to the dance floor you are dancing pretty close to each other, not knowing what came over yourself, you turn around moving your hips slowly to the beat of the music making her hands fall to your waist as she dances with you, she leans in whispering in your hear.

"Wow, you got moves!"

Her breath against your neck, combine with her raspy voice made your neck get goosebumps, once the music starts to slow down you turn around putting your arms around her neck, you honestly don't know what came over you but everything feels so natural and right around her.

"So can I get a name stranger?" you ask her.

"It's..." she was cut off by her friends pulling her away from you "What?"

"We have to go Jonas it's gonna kill us if we miss this flight home."

She looks at you with an apology smile, and you smile back at her, it's not like you are expecting anything, you aren't the only person on vacation in Spain. You watch her friends dragging her out of the bar she was smiling at you, a smile you are sure will stay in your memory for a while.

That night you didn't get much sleep every time you close your eyes you remember the smile on her face, and those blue ocean eyes looking at you, and it's killing you not knowing her name, you want to find her but you don't even know where to start, where to search you didn't even know her name or what she does. I sound like a stalker right now besides I have to accept that I will never see her again, all she is now is a memory that you wish you could relived just to feel her presence again, that makes a hole in your heart. But that was something you have to learn how to live with it.

A few weeks later

Its be a few weeks since my vacation, today I am moving my things to the office of my new client they want me only to work with them they give me an office in the stadium of Arsenal, so I was fixing my office when the director and Jonas walk in.

"Miss. Y/L/N do you have time to meet the stadium and the team?"

"Yes of course let me just grab my phone I am scheduling the new kits photos and a new campaign." grabbing your phone and your notebook since you have the sketches there "Can we go?"

"Yes I will give you a tour and then we will meet Jonas at training." you nod and start walking with him.

Being in the stadium was amazing you have been working so hard to be able to work with big names and finally being here just tells how much your hard work has finally payoff after we saw where was most of the teams I need to work with are and other places.

"Miss Y/L/N you know where is the training?"

"Yes, it's hard not to see where it is from my office." you smile and half joking.

"Great I'm sorry you have to go alone but I need to solve something at my office."

"Of course no worries Sir."

Once he walks away you turn around making your way over to training it was time to meet the team, once you get to the camp you saw Jonas talking with some of the players and others doing exercises since you didn't want to interrupt you look around until your phone ring it was one of the photographs.

"Hi Y/L/N I need to know who should we photograph tomorrow with the new kits."

"I will send you that in a bit I am just meeting the team alright?"

"Yes, talk to you later."

Once you hang up you look up seeing Jonas heading your way, while the players are training against each other in teams.

"Hi, Miss. Y/L/N!"

"Please just call me Y/N your making me feel old besides we will work a lot together there is no need for such formality."

"Alright well you wanna watch for a bit before I call them over?" he asks.

"That would be great I'm an Arsenal fan but since I start working I haven't watched a game in years." smile at him as you guys walk to the sideline to watch them play.

"Well, I guess now you will be seeing a lot of games since you have to manage all communication and marketing."

"Yes, I am finally where I want it to be."

You are watching them play honestly, you miss playing but since you had an injury before even starting your professional career, you only can play for fun.

"Get your head in the game!" the moment you look up see a ball hit one of the players, those blue eyes making you stop in your tracks "Are you alright Y/N?"

"Yea sorry I just remember I need to take care of something at my office see you later."

"Alright see you later."

You walk to your office, your head must be playing you tricks this couldn't be happening again. Once you walk into your office you grab a bottle of water and sit on your chair, why now? There are so many people with blue eyes, it can't be. It's probably your mind playing you tricks again, since that night in Spain, your life has never been the same. Since you got infatuated with those blue eyes and a smile, you couldn't sleep without dreaming about them, sometimes you are out with friends but instead of having fun, you are looking for her even if you don't want to. Without even knowing her name she had you wrapped around her fingers. You try to forget that night but your heart doesn't let you and you knew full well you are just hurting yourself, what are the odds that you get to see her again?

Since you have an idea of the players who are most popular among the fans, you made a list and went to find the head photographer Danielle on your way there you saw a couple of players getting to the locker room, your phone rings you hear one voice.

"Leah come here!! It's the girl from Spain" You took the call and look over your shoulder to see a brunette and a blonde looking at you.

You don't remember them your eyes are locked with the blonde girl all night and all you could think was how gorgeous she was.

"Hey Y/N what's up?"

"Hey, I was looking for you I have the list of players for the campaign."

"Alright, I just finished shooting the training so I am on my way."

"Alright Im near the locker room, see you in a bit."

You hang up and look at the list of names in your hand, now wondering how you never saw the photos of the players. Was it possible to be her?

"Hi?" you turn around to see the players looking at you.

"Hi, can I help you guys?"

"Yeah I'm Leah and we have a question?"

"Nice to meet you Leah I'm Y/N..." you smile at them "How can I help you guys?"

"Well, you see..." Leah started but was cut off by the brunette.

"I'm Lotte, look we want to know if you are by any chance this last few months in Spain?"

"Well not the question I was expecting but yes I was why?"

They both look at each other with mischievous smile on their face.

"Nothing thank you!" they say on their way to the locker room leaving you confused, are you overthinking or do they know more than you do, you are taken off your thoughts when Danielle walks up to you.

"Hi, so who do you have on the list?" You handle him the list.

"From my research, this is the players that everyone is talking about and have the most popularity among the fans, but I would appreciate having your opinion before we go further."

"Alright well let me see, Leah, Alessia, and Lotte together this is going to be fun to work with hopefully they will be on their best behavior since you are watching it right?"

"Yeah but I don't want them to feel like they can't be their natural self because of me, I want to be able to look at the photos and see their passion for the sport and the team."

"Of course don't worry we'll those three it's impossible not to be natural, let's see Katie amazing, Frida great, Blackstenius and Manu sound great, I will have it scheduled with Jonas because of training, and I will let you know later when it is. It's that alright?"

"Of course, thanks I will send you some ideas of the photos that I want if that's okay?"

"Of course, see you later."

"Bye."

You aren't thinking about watching the photoshoot but guess there is no going back, hopefully, I will not embarrass myself in front of the players, you went to your office.

Part2?!

[yawujin]

Do you think you can do the allies + axis (separate) x a bratty s/o that’s super needy but constantly try’s to demand stuff and boss them around and is just kinda a very run of the mill brat. Like how would they deal with them?..and can it be a bit nsfw….pretty please with a cherry on top..

hehe sure ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ here you go ! 🪄

{ request } allies & axis x a bratty! s/o 💭 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

type/content warnings • nsfw content , established relationship , they/them pronouns used , mentions of bondage , marking , rough sex , sub/dom dynamics

allies ♥︎

america/alfred f. jones

he finds their neediness kind of cute, writing it off as something that just comes with being in a relationship with them. soon, he comes to find out just how bossy they are. usually, he's a pushover and it's fairly easy to make him do the stuff they want, but every now and then he doesn't give in, puts his foot down and reminds them he too can be bossy, in charge and, that he knows how to put a brat in their place. they must be careful with whatever sexual favor they ask him to do, because he might just turn around and make them do it instead (i feel like he'd be petty in that way, and use them for his entertainment) 'can't tell me what to do now that your mouth is full, huh? '

england/arthur kirkland

whenever his partner is acting up─if he feels like it─he'll take the calm route and plead with them. 'please, love, behave...' however, if he's feels they are demanding too much from him, his attitude will switch up. he'll be very domineering, crass and rather rough with how he handles them from then on.

'say it... who do you belong to?'

france/francis bonnefoy

he gives them what they want, within reason. if they demand too much, don't worry, he puts up a good bargain. when they continue to act up, he'll turn serious─giving them one final ultimatum. "do as i say, or you will be shown who is truly the boss here." knowing them, and how they act...france gears up to give them something he's sure to make them behave... at least for a little while

canada/matthieu williams

seeing as he is already bossed around by his colleagues, they can bet he is not going to take the same treatment from his own partner. he's quick to make himself known as the one in charge, faster than they thought. he tells them to 'shut up and quit with the brattiness before i fuck it out of you' in such a sweet voice, it sounded more like a loving promise than a threat.

russia/ivan braginsky

don't. even. try. he shuts that bratty act of theirs down so quick, they barely have time to start. he can only take being bossed around for so long , until he finally has enough. he has his hands wrapped tightly around their waist as he rests his chin on their shoulder. "please behave, won't you? it will make me very happy. you want both of us to be happy, yes?" and in case they couldn't tell, that's russian for don't fuck around and find out.

china/yao wang

he's very secure in himself that─he doesn't feel the need to intimidate them into submission. he doesn't do everything they ask of him, only the things he wants to do or wants them to enjoy. he has his own special way of dealing with them and that's getting them hot and bothered enough to try and rile him up. do things for him. that's right, china finesses his way into making them do something for him instead of the other way around. it usually involves promising them some type of reward for good behavior. but first, they must please him and act accordingly. "...you're doing so good for me." he praises.

axis ♥︎

n. italy/feliciano vargas

has a method similar to china's. it's a give and take relationship. italy does a few things for them, and in return they behave.

usually turning out really wholesome, with italy cuddling with them since they're soooo needy─he admits that it kind of turns him on when they boss him around so much. "i wouldn't mind being there anytime you need me." he sighs happily, burying his face deeper into their arms.

germany/ludwig beilschmidt

he usually likes it when they tell him what to do. he's a very organized man who is very good at following orders. he doesn't like it so much when they act like a brat, so he makes sure to take care of that ASAP. he's lowkey begging them to behave, telling them that he'll do anything to make them act right...not knowing that he's kind of allowing them to act up even more. poor germany...he's a lil' confused but he's got the spirit. "if i fuck you like this, then will you behave?"

japan/kiku honda

he's literally like no then goes on to use shibari as a way to torture them into submission. "if you keep acting like that, i'll have you tied up everyday from now on." it's a tempting threat but they know that japan's willpower and discipline could really mean that he'd have them tied up without relief for a long, long time. it's their choice on whether or not they want to behave, but they will always know what will happen if they don't. this makes it especially exciting for japan, with him knowing that their behavior will be unpredictable each day.

s. italy/lovino vargas

he lets them carry on throughout the day, holding himself back and pretending that their brattiness does not have any effect on him. that is, until the end of the day, where he makes them beg before him. he would want to hear them plead for him to not be so rough, when that was all he could think about the entire day. he ends up leaving a few marks behind to remind them what will happen if they don't behave. "mmm." he hums lowly. "this is what you get for trying to tell me what to do..."

prussia/gilbert beilschmidt

okay so, it takes him a while to get bothered by it because their brattiness is all just kind of a game to him. sure, he gives them what they want but as he slowly sees that they won't be satisfied until they get a rise out of him, he begins to think of ways he can tease them back, make them beg him to stop. he laughs when he sees his brat whine. "is this not what you wanted?" he grins. "i know it's what i wanted." prussia revels in his ability to make them act like this. he hopes that they continue simply because he loves the feeling of dominating them.

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

I Love You's - (W/ America, Russia, England, Canada) x GN!Reader

Summary: Little fluffy scenarios where some of my favorite nations tell a gn!reader "I love you" 💕

Contents/Possible Warnings: Lots of fluff, kinda angsty tho for a lot of them, hurt with comfort, gn!reader

America (Alfred F. Jones)

He never thought he'd fall in love. It wasn't something Alfred avoided, but it also wasn't something he ever sought out. He had accomplished a lot in the relatively short period he had been around, he was still young and had opportunities to chase, and with that, he never imagined he'd have the time for romance. Still, things happened and now you were here with him, and there wasn't a happier man in the entirety of the world. With you beside him, he couldn't ask for anything better.

You were beautiful, so beautiful; both inside and out. Your hair was soft, your eyes captivated him, you understood him entirely, you loved him! He could go on forever, gushing about his awesome partner. You were the definition of perfection to him, flawed or not. He was head over heels.

"Love attack!" He nearly shouted while you were watching a movie with him in the living room one night, cupping your face in his hands as he began to pepper it with kisses. It startled you, but you loved it. One thing you adored about him was how he never tried to hide his affections. He was in love, and he'd be damned if he didn't show it.

You giggled, lightly pushing on his chest as he kissed every part of your face he could, now laughing himself. He kissed your forehead, your now reddened cheeks, your nose, and your cheeks again. When he was done he pulled back, grinning at the sight of your flustered, but happy expression.

"You missed, silly," you smiled playfully, pulling him back in before kissing him sweetly, satisfied hums escaping you both. You loved him, and you made sure to convey that with every movement of your lips together.

"I love you," He said between kisses. "My honey, my love, my baby, my sweetheart, my everything." It was true, you were his everything. He didn't want to live fast anymore, jumping at every opportunity, not when his most important one was right in front of him, and had such kissable lips, too.

Russia (Ivan Braginsky)

It was a well-known fact to those who had ever visited that Russia's house was more than just cold. It was freezing, something which you still weren't used to, even after all the years you had spent living with him. It got even colder during the night, and blankets could only do so much.

Ivan always hated the cold, the connection between it and the isolation he had endured throughout his life unable to be undone. Things were different now, though. He had you with him, someone to warm his heart, especially during those frigid nights he had dreaded so much.

"Ivan," you called out to him from the bed, wrapped up in multiple thick blankets that seemed to do nothing to keep you from shivering. "Come to bed, дорогой" You spoke with a tired smile, the last word making him melt as it left your mouth. 'Darling,' you had called him in his native tongue. He was your darling.

As he slipped into your shared bed with you he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his eyes closed in relaxation and bliss as he nuzzled his face into your hair. You made him feel warm, and that's all he ever truly wanted out of life. Someone to love, and someone to love him back.

"я тебя люблю." He mumbled against you, smiling softly. "мое солнышко." You were his sunshine, a ray of light shining through despite the clouds. He moved his head out of your hair and leaned down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. "Promise me you'll never leave," he told you, caressing your cheek gently. To anyone else, that would've sounded like a demand, but to you it was a request for comfort.

"I'm not going anywhere," You reassured him, kissing his cheek. "I love you, Ivan. With all of my heart. я тебя люблю."

England (Arthur Kirkland)

Having done so much throughout his history, Arthur savored quiet moments, even if they were little ones. The moments when he wasn't busy, and the moments when he wasn't plagued with the harsh realities of the world. His favorite moments, however, involved you.

You were kinder than anyone else he had ever met in his centuries of being alive, a true angel. You were his everything, the love of his life, so much so that he wondered how he had gone so long without you. When you were with him he didn't feel so distant from everyone else; he felt wanted.

You were curled up next to him on the couch, your arms wrapped around him as you leaned your head against his shoulder, simply enjoying his company while a television show neither of you were paying much attention to played in the background.

The one bad thing about these quiet moments was the rare opportunity for his mind to drift into places, or more so memories, that he'd rather not think about. He had fought with so many people throughout his life, some of which he had cherished. In the end, everyone left him, sooner or later, a distance soon growing. Were you the next one to leave...? What if you two had an argument one day, and you decided you couldn't stand being around him anymore? What if he—

"Arthur," your voice reached his ears, tone gentle and soft. Then, your hand came forward to cup his face, carefully turning his head towards you. "You're overthinking again, love." You frowned, making an observation. "Do you want to talk about it?" He shook his head.

"No. It's nothing we haven't already discussed." He replied, smiling at you sadly. "It's my own insecurities, nothing you need to worry about, dear." With this, your frown grew before you leaned in, kissing him lovingly.

"I love you," He muttered against your lips, emerald green eyes looking into yours with an adoration reserved only for you. "I love you so much." He meant it with every part of his being. Even with his fears, deep down, he knew you wouldn't abandon him, because you loved him with every part of your being, too.

Canada (Matthew Williams)

He was used to being forgotten. Always the quiet one, he was easily overlooked, even by those closest to him. Honestly, he didn't know how he managed to start dating you, or get you to notice he was there. To him, he wasn't anything special, just maple leaves and the friend of a bear who barely knew who he was. He didn't deserve you.

"Matthew," You smiled at him one morning over breakfast. "I've been practicing my French recently, thought it'd be useful, y'know? Can I speak to you a bit and get your feedback? I'm not too good at it yet..."

He nodded, returning your smile. You were so smart, so clever, so cute. You were always trying to learn new things, especially when it came to him and his nation. You never forget about him, you were so sweet, so unique, and he was just... himself.

"Hmm..." You hummed in faux contemplation, acting like you were trying to remember what you were going to say. You knew exactly what was on your mind. "Why don't I start with a pretty common phrase? Je t'iame." He blushed at your words. You told him that every day without fail, but hearing it in French felt different somehow, more meaningful in a way.

"Y-You said it excellently." He stuttered out, heart racing as you looked into his amethyst eyes, a gleam of admiration for him in your own.

"Ooh! Let me try out another phrase, then," You grinned, leaning forward slightly over the table. "These ones are a bit more complicated. Tu es l’amour de ma vie. Tu es mon âme sœur," the words poured out from your lips, the sound like music to his ears. You said it perfectly, how long had you been practicing? You must've put in a lot of effort...

"Woah!" You gasped, standing up from your seat at the sight of small tears welling up in his eyes. You rushed over to him, holding his face gently in your hands as your thumbs wiped away his tears. "I didn't mean to make you cry—"

He sniffled, standing up to wrap you in a tight embrace. "I don't deserve you," He whispered, voice shaky. He was happy, so happy. He loved you, and he'd never stop. "Je t’aime de tout mon cœur," he told you with love, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he did so. "I love you with all my heart," he clarified with a small chuckle after you shot him a confused look.

"How do I say that, but back to you?" You questioned, tilting your head slightly in curiosity. Adorable, you were beyond adorable. He chuckled again, answering you only but kissing you lovingly. He'd teach you soon enough, but for now, he was focused on expressing his love for you in ways that involved less French.

[ell-alexanderarnold]

Vanilla kisses

Summary: Y/n and Trent share a kiss after his family’s been over for dinner.

Fluff

Note: guysss😭 it’s been ages since I posted a fic, hope you like this one!! trying to really get back into writing again. xoxo💋🤍

You helped Trent put in the last pieces of dirty plates in the dishwasher, you had been invited over for dinner with his family. You admired his close relationship with his family, they always make sure you feel at home when you’re with them.

The tension between you and Trent during the dinner was strong, it was like something was about to happen any minute. During the dinner you felt a hand slip into yours, you tried to hide your face when your cheeks turned red as well did Trent, who was just as nervous as you.

“Thank you for this lovely evening, I hope to see you soon!” Dianne said as she stood by the door ready to leave and gave you a farewell hug.

“It was lovely seeing you Dianne, take care!” You smiled and waved goodbye to Trent’s two brothers.

After your goodbye’s you went back to the kitchen where Trent just finished the dishes, you checked your phone and at the same time you put on your vanilla Burt’s Bees chapstick on your lips.

Trent leaned against the kitchen counter as you noticed him watching you and you laid down your phone.

“They really love you, Y/n.” Trent began as you met his brown eyes.

“And I love them, they’re so sweet.” You answered and he smiled at you and moved his body towards you.

“You’re also sweet, sweet like candy.” He shyly said and looked at your lips.

“I thought you didn’t like candy?” You responded and he laughed, “You’re right but I do like some types of candy.”

“Oh really?” You said.

“Yeah, but what about flavours?” He asked.

“Flavours?” You questioned.

“You know salt, sweet sour, and all that.” He explained as you stood in in front of him, listening as he talked.

“I don’t really know, but I can give you a hint.” You said and smirked at him.

“Alright.” He answered and watched you reapply your chapstick.

“Close your eyes.” You giggled as he furrowed his brows.

“What are you going to do Y/n?” He implored as he studied the look on your face.

“Just trust me Trent!” You laughed and took his hands and put them over his eyes as he was unsure about the whole situation.

You stood watching him a few seconds before you got on your tippy toes to be the same height as him. Then you cupped his face gently and pecked his lips. You weren’t sure if he got the hint, he removed his hands from his eyes and smiled at you. Your stomach was filled with butterflies as he made eye contact with you, you loved the feeling.

“Vanilla?” He guessed and you nodded.

“I like that.” He confessed as he placed his hands on your waist and leaned in for another kiss. You put your arms around his neck and fought for your life on your tippy toes. Trent noticed and helped you get on the kitchen counter so you could sit down.

“You’re so pretty baby.” Trent whispered and gave you a forehead kiss.

You loved how Trent recently started using nicknames for you, the two of you have been dating for a few months now and every time you hang out you never get use to all the nicknames and praises. It makes you so happy and you could not imagine how boring life would be without him.

“You’re all I need Y/n, don’t you ever leave.” He cooed as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m not going anywhere Trent.” You reassured and rubbed his back.

“I’m sorry I have to ask you, where did you buy that chapstick?”

The end ♡

[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.

[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.”