#francis bonnefoy x reader

[sleepingdeath-light]

cuddling hcs ; allied forces

requested by ; nobody / self indulgent

fandom(s) ; hetalia

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; america / alfred f. jones, canada / matthew williams, china / yào wáng, england / arthur kirkland, france / francis bonnefoy, russia / ivan braginsky

outline ; “cuddling hcs for the allies”

note ; writing this may or may not have sent me hurtling straight back into a hetalia phase… maybe

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

america / alfred f. jones

alfred is, to put it plainly, something of a cuddle bug and will take any and every opportunity he can find to wrap you up in his arms and hug you until one of you is dragged away to do something much more boring and much less cozy — like this man could spend an entire day cuddled up with you and he’d still start pouting and complaining when you get up to do something else

he’s by no means picky about what position you’re cuddling in, like at all, but there is something about being the big spoon that makes his heart feel particularly full (he likes feeling like he’s protecting you)

cuddling with alfred can happen at any time in any place — in your shared bed first thing in the morning, in the meeting room literally seconds before his allies are due to come in, out in public when he just tackles you from behind and pulls you into a hug, etc., etc. — but he always manages to make it worth your while

this all works out brilliantly during the colder months since alfred is pretty much a living furnace, but during summer it’s an absolute nightmare so you’ll either have to forgo cuddling for a while, or put on a strong fan and pray

(and lord help you if you’re claustrophobic because al is extremely strong and once he’s latched onto you he is not letting go anytime soon)

canada / matthew williams

as your relationship with matthew progresses and his confidence with initiating and accepting physical affection grows, you’ll come to find that he’s actually quite the cuddle bug — especially if those cuddles also include you kissing all over his face and playing with his hair (though he’d never dream of asking for that out loud)

he’s not especially fussy about what position you’re in as long as you’re both holding each other, but when he’s in certain moods he does have positions he tends to gravitate towards — e.g. when he’s had a rough day he prefers to be little spoon, when he’s all love sick and wants to fall asleep he prefers to cuddle you in a position where he can see your face, and when you’re watching something together he’s rather have you perched on his lap or cuddled up into his side

generally speaking he prefers to cuddle in bed or on the couch, but if you want to cuddle out in public then he’s not going to turn you down (even if pda can sometimes make him a bit flustered) since it’s not like anyone really acknowledges his existence long enough to give you both grief over it

as long as he’s not in the middle of something super important (or watching the hockey because he gets way too passionate for his own good sometimes), matthew is pretty much always down to cuddle with you — it’s nice having someone he cares about acknowledge his existence and crave his company, so more often than not he’ll open his arms and invite you to make yourself comfortable whenever you ask

matthew loves the sound of your voice, so when you’re cuddling with him he’ll often just encourage you to talk while he listens intently and absentmindedly plays with the hem of your shirt

china / yào wáng

yào isn’t really a big cuddler in his own right, but will happily snuggle up with you after an especially long day of meetings and trying to be the best elder brother figure he can be — which usually means that cuddling with him will be paired with a very melancholic ranting session until he’s gotten it all out of his system and the two of you can either cuddle in comfortable silence or talk about something else entirely

what position the two of you end up in is pretty much entirely down to you — whether you decide to cuddle him from behind when he’s sat at his desk working on something, or to snuggle up against his chest when you’re laying in bed, or to make yourself comfortable on his lap when you’re sat around relaxing at home, or whatever else — but he will very politely ask you to readjust or let go if he needs to get up and leave for whatever reason, or if he’s just starting to get uncomfortable and needs to move around a bit

another one that prefers to keep all cuddling related activities confined to your shared home — he’s just not someone who sees much point in pda or involving anyone else in your relationship, is all… but anywhere in the house itself is fair game as long as you catch him at the right time

he’s much more likely to initiate a cuddle session if you’re wearing or doing something cute, but usually they’re quite brief and consist of the two of you hugging while standing up while he showers you in compliments for a bit

yào has gotten pretty good at moving around when you’re cuddling him, meaning that he’s able to do other things like draw or read or cook or eat when you’re hanging off of him like an adorable humanoid koala — and if you happen to catch him when he’s cooking and in a good mood then you’ll get to be his taste tester while he walks you through each step of the recipe he’s following and carefully manoeuvres the two of you around his kitchen

england / arthur kirkland

arthur is, generally speaking, not the cuddling type — he’s not opposed to it and will cuddle with you if that’s what you want, it’s just not something he’s as naturally inclined to do as someone like alfred or frances

ever the traditional gentleman, he leans towards positions that involve him holding you rather than the other way around (unless he’s like super emotional and needs some comfort for whatever reason) — e.g being the big spoon, laying with your face buried in his chest, etc.

not even remotely a fan of pda outside of handholding and chaste pecks on the cheek, so naturally cuddling is kept to the inside of your shared home — specifically either on your bed or on the settee where he can sit up and enjoy a cup of tea and a good book while indulging in the comforting smell of your shampoo and the feeling of your body against his

cuddling with arthur is usually relegated to the evenings after he’s finished with his duties for the day, either when he’s having the last cup of tea for the day or when the two of you are trying to get to sleep — though on rare occasions he has been up for cuddling during the day, usually when one of you really needs some reassurance

doesn’t always realise when he’s doing it, but when you’ve been cuddling for a long enough time he’ll start periodically kissing the top of your head and brushing a hand gently along the back of your head and your neck — it’s slow and comforting and, honestly, enough to send you straight to sleep if you’re not actively trying to stay awake

france / francis bonnefoy

frances is a very physically affectionate person and cuddling is just one of the many many ways he goes about showing his love for you

tends to gravitate towards positions that allow him to kiss you easily — e.g. face-to-face in bed, you perching on his lap, you laying on top of him, etc. — but he’ll also settle for being the big spoon because he likes being able to play with your hair and kiss the nape of your neck (and being able to whisper things that leave you speechless, but he’ll do that whether or not you’re cuddling at the time)

prefers to cuddle you at home for the most part since it allows the two of you to get more comfortable, but he’s not opposed to a bit of pda here or there — especially if it allows him to annoy arthur with how sickeningly sweet and touchy the two of you are

when it comes to timings, he’s not fussy and will cuddle you whenever you want him to (unless he’s actually very busy at the time), whether that means first thing in the morning, after a meal, before he goes to work, when he comes home from work, when you’re cooking together, when you’re running errands, or right before the two of you go to bed, he loves it all the same

as mentioned above, while you’re cuddling he loves to try and make you flustered however he can, but depending on the time of day he’s also been known to read to you, drink wine, and talk to you about his day while you’re wrapped up and cozy in his arms

(and, as an aside, no matter how you go to sleep you will always wake up to him cuddling up to you the next morning if you shared a bed — cute!)

russia / ivan braginsky

between his large size, his extreme strength, and the fact that he’s a walking radiator, ivan braginsky is probably one of the best cuddling partners you could possibly ask for — up until the point where you want to get up and do something else, because once you’re in his arms he is not letting go until he absolutely has to

prefers positions that involve you being on top of him in some way so there’s less risk of him crushing or otherwise hurting you — so you straddling his waist, laying on his chest, or standing while cuddling are all things that he tends to default to when you’re together

(will also gladly share his coat with you so the two of you can cuddle standing up outside)

not really bothered about the where or when as long as he gets to pull you in his arms and bury his face in your neck or hair — and it’s not like anyone’s going to stop him since what he’s doing is harmless and not all that distracting so… yeah… hope you’re not opposed to pda

if he needs to move somewhere else while cuddling you, he’ll just pick you up and carry you with him to wherever he needs to go without a moment’s hesitation

[worldheadcanons]

☆ picture this!

requested by no one! gender neutral reader. starring . . . italy, france, russia, & canada. warning for general stalking mentions. fandom masterlist found here. 📌 . . . author notes: i do love the way canada & reader + france & reader have found their own little rhythm within their relationships. ivan straight up sending selfies is frying me but i honestly feel like he wouldn’t gaf. ivan’s reader is somewhat debra morgan coded i’ve realized.. i like the dynamic tho.

feliciano vargas!

— the text comes through about an hour after you get home from work. it’s an interruption to the youtube video that you’re watching on your shitty laptop while eating dinner. an interruption to your video time is a crime beyond words; even so, you opt to pick up your phone and check the text.

— it’s a picture of you. not just any picture of you, a picture of you hard at work cooking pasta for your boss. a clean black apron was tied around your waist and your brows were furrowed in concentration as you tasted the sauce off a wooden spoon. accompanying this picture was a simple message: ‘you looked so cute cooking today, tesero*.’

— you were a private chef by day, cooking and cleaning dishes for this rich family. the father of the family had passed before your arrival, leaving behind two brothers. they were both bachelors, still living in their childhood home.

— your nose scrunched up in annoyance. the shot was a clear one, almost professionally taken. undoubtedly, it was captured by your stalker. how did he get such a good photo? it’s as though the guy took the picture from inside the house. or, he’d been right outside the kitchen window.

— you opt to reply with something just as simple. ‘don’t go near my place of work again.’ he’d managed to get past your bosses’ security and close to the window — it was unsafe, not just for you but for them. they’d treated you well. you weren’t going to risk them getting hurt.

—your stalker doesn’t take too kindly to your words. ‘don’t be like that :( i won’t hurt anybody, i promise. i just like to see you.’

— you scoff at the response before sending one back. ‘i don’t trust that.’

— ‘:(( i don’t like when you’re mad at me. what can i buy to make you happy with me, mio amore?*’

— ‘you can’t buy my affection. stay away from my place of work.’ you huff before sitting back. who did he think he was? you glance back at the youtube video you were watching, only to realize your old laptop had completely shut down. when you felt the bottom, it became clear that it overheated. maybe downloading all those sims mods wasn’t a great idea... after some thought, a minute later you texted him, ‘a new laptop would be nice.’

— ‘consider it done ❤️’. the reply is sent seconds later. you didn’t know it, but he was grinning to himself. a new laptop for his darling, one with special programs already downloaded… what a perfect request from you.

francis bonnefoy!

— your phone dings at work. you pick it up, a slight smile on your face as you recognize the ‘unknown’ number. you ought to make him a contact at this point — he’s been stalking you for how long? and, more important, how long have you been playing into it, enjoying it?

— this time it’s a picture of you at the grocery market, while you were down the frozen treat aisle. ‘didn’t know my sweet had an eye for sweets’ it reads. how cute. your attention’s taken off of your work as you think of a clever little reply.

— feeding into his delusions was definitely wrong; you should’ve gone to the authorities. you had threatened him many times, but never followed through. how could you? he was the one piece of excitement in your otherwise dull life. it’s not that things were bad… they were just too stable. your routine had become monotonous and your mind craved the mental stimulation that good banter could offer; if it happened to come from your stalker, well… if nothing else, he was a source of free entertainment. and, at times, companionship and comfort, despite his depravity. you were just as depraved as your stalker was, though. only difference was that you could hide it. ah, but back to that response…

— ‘looks like you don’t know me as well as you thought’. it’s something of an insult, implying his stalking skills weren’t up to par. it’s also a challenge to prove you wrong.

— ‘really? i know your shoe size and sense of fashion. remember that shirt i bought you friday? and don’t forget i know your favorite foods.’ you can almost hear his voice, a note of irritation hidden within his tone. the mere thought was attractive — god, you really were depraved — a second message comes in shortly afterwards. ‘i love learning new things about you anyways, mon chèr*.’

— i’m sure you do. you let out a quiet chuckle, glancing around to make sure no one was watching you slack off. ‘send me some ice cream and i’ll be nice to you on the phone tonight. buy my favorite flavor.’

— ‘demanding much?’ you’re sure he scoffed before sending the message. he’d walked right into your trap, though.

— ‘i’ll flirt back this time. you can even record the audio. don’t you want that, mon petit ami?*’ thank god for those three years of french you took in highschool. would you really flirt back? maybe. maybe not. you just needed him to think that you would.

— his reply is immediate. he’s caught in your web. ‘ouias. can i have a hint of your favorite flavor?*’

— ‘no. good luck.’ you smile to yourself before trying to refocus on work. tonight would be interesting at least… andyou’d be satisfying your sweet tooth.

ivan braginsky!

— as you get ready for bed, you hear a soft buzzing noise coming from your phone. ah. you roll your eyes as you check the notification. it’s the same unknown number that’s been texting you for the last month. this time, the message includes a photo. as tired as you are, you’re still quite curious, so you open the text just to be met with a dark picture of you sleeping in bed two nights ago. what. the. fuck.

— you knew what night it was because of your pajamas. you were asleep in the photo, body completely relaxed and unaware of anyone being in your room, watching you. your eyes narrow as you read the accompanying message. ‘i just wanted to say goodnight, sleepyhead 😊’. right…

— you’d let the texts go on because quite frankly, they were a boost to your ego. that, and you may have gotten drunk once and texted him back. but now, they had to stop. ‘i’m blocking this number. if you text me again, i’ll call the cops. and don’t come near my house again.’

— his reply takes a moment. ‘you sleep better when i’m watching you, you know. i’m only keeping you safe.’

— you let out a snort. ‘that’s not fucking true.’ your reply is blunt, which hopefully will throw him off.

— ‘i know you love me. drunk words are sober thoughts. you’re just tired now. go to sleep, koshka*.’ well shit, that didn’t work at all.

— you’ve never seen the guy. you’ve never even heard his voice. you knew only his name and the fact that he was utterly obsessed with you. and you? you were.. unsure of how you felt about him. the attention felt good and.. surely it wasn’t bad to want some attention every now and then. still, he was fucking creepy, taking pictures of you from in your room somehow.

— finally, you sent a last reply. ‘goodnight, ivan.’

— you didn’t see it until the morning, but ivan sent back a reply of his own. not just a message, but another picture — a picture sent at 2 am of him in bed in the dark. a man around your age, with silver hair and vibrant, violet eyes. his nose caught your eye immediately. it was.. hot… he was looking up at the camera with a small smile. ‘thought of you as i went to bed. we’re both in bed at the same time, aren’t we? goodnight, koshka*.’

matthew williams!

— it’s a lazy sunday for you. you’re lounging about the couch, enjoying yourself, when you get a message from that special number. he’s been calling and texting for months. by now, it wasn’t even one sided. it was… complicated. even so, you smiled as you saw he had texted you. he usually doesn’t text on mondays. any other day, sure, but you’re certain he hates mondays.

— you check the text out and it’s a picture from an old social media account you had as a teenager. your eyes widen. you thought you deleted it! underneath the picture he sent you a simple message, ‘LOL’.

— ‘where’d you get that?’ you asked him. it’s not like you had the power to scrub your old pictures from the internet but you definitely deleted that account years ago. you’d prefer to never see any of your tween tumblr pics ever again.

— ‘i have my ways. you were a cute kid.’ he replies, much to your annoyance. you’re about to tell him to delete it when he sends a follow up picture, one of him as a teen. ‘just so we’re fair,’ he says ‘here’s a picture of me’.

— the picture captures a lanky kid with pale skin and a nervous look on his face, which is covered in acne. faint blonde curly hair is all about his head and in his hand is an old purple game boy. his nails are painted black and his skinny jeans are of a similar color. the picture reminds you of a different time; a time where emo kids walked about and converse were the coolest shoe you could have. he must really be in love with you. more than obsessed, he was in love. and he trusted you. why else would he show a picture of him as a kid? especially one like that?

— you smile a little to yourself. ‘you were cute, too.’ an awkward kid, you were sure, but still cute. how he’d grown into the man he was today.. the man who fell for you.. well, who knows.

— ‘i still am.’ he replies. he doesn’t send a picture of his face, likely to keep himself somewhat anonymous. smart. but he does send a picture of him flexing his biceps. which.. well, it’s a picture you decide to save. what? you have needs! ‘i have muscle now too.’

— ‘you’re feeling sharing today, aren’t you?’ you tease. every day, the two of you seem to grow closer and closer. he’s grown far less violent, too — maybe because you’ve grown a lot more willing.

— ‘do i get a reward for being so open?’ he says, ‘maybe let me in your house? i’ll be a good boy, promise.’

— you set your phone down, biting your lip. he’s so charming it’s frustrating. how do you even reply to that? you shift in your seat, rereading the message… how to reply, how to reply!

☆ TRANSLATIONS.

— *”tesero” should translate to darling. i used the masculine form because that’s more gender neutral.

— *”mio amore” should translate to my love.

— *”mon cher” means my dear or my darling.

— *”mon petit ami” means my boyfriend, (literally) my little friend.

— *”ouias” means yes or yeah (a very casual yes).

— *”koshka” should translate to kitten. i like to think he calls reader kitten because of how feisty they are; enough of the “sunflower” pet name in fics!

[doki-doki-imagines]

Hey there! Can I have a headcanons request of Germany, England and France who have darlings that are quite, calm, introverted and composed most of the time but during their game/fight. Their darling can be very intimidating and dangerous as their rival would be afraid of them (If you know KNB. They are like Akashi Seijuro)

Ludwig Beilschmidt:

-He is so surprised. Like, shocked.

-You have always been so cute and nice…totally didn’t expect that and at first, he thinks it is a joke.

-But Ludwig can’t say he isn’t intrigued by this new side of your personality…unless you get violent. That is a big no-no for him.

-He’ll try to bring that side of you out, not often, but mostly to understand when and with whom it comes out.

-Yeah, he will study you lol. A way to understand every shade of you.

Arthur Kirkland:

-He worries a lot!

-Not for you, for the rival obviously.

-He can recognize the aura around his partner, he and Francis often get it when they meet.

-Gonna kiss your forehead after you destroy your rival and go back home.

-He had to reprimand you in front of others because he is a gentleman, but his true self is so proud of you.

Françis Bonnefoy:

-As Arthur, he recognized the aura around you immediately.

-He has to admit that he prefers your nice and more introverted side of personality.

-Mostly because he doesn’t want you to get hurt.

-Like, it is hot how good you kick ass, but please don’t get hurt, Françis likes to wear his nurse outfit for entirely different motivations.

[iridesky-the-writer]

hey hi! Can you do yandere hetalia France x gn reader who's like Nikolai gogol from bsd? Headcanons plz. Thanks ^o^

OOH! This is a cool first request! I'm interested :) thanks for requesting ~ Francis and Nikolai are actually some of my favorite characters! Anyway, order up!

☆ Triboulet ☆

|| yandere!Francis Bonnefoy x G/N ! Nikolai Gogol-like! Reader ||

|| Contains: potentially inaccurate depictions of French pet names (I do not speak French), doting Francis (we love to see it),, stalking,, Francis lowkey spiraling,, lightly suggestive material (because c'mon, it's Francis),, a reader that definitely matches yan!Francis' freak,, a bit soft at the end!?,, Francis spoiling you rotten,,and reader who is most certainly a curious critter (so much so that it pushes Francis beyond his limit) + one (1) goofy Arthur Kirkland cameo ||

☆ Why, what a bundle of laughs you were! That was the first thing that caught his interest about you. He hadn't seen anything like it.

☆ ...well, he has, though it was more exclusive to those days he first came around. He hadn't seen anything like it since the fools back in the 1500s, 1600s... How remarkable!

☆ But those fools usually had the ugliest mugs and melancholy miens. You, on the other hand, were positively stunning to him, with a certain...je nais se quois to boot. That just drew him in further.

☆ And when you to finally got to spend time together for the first time, well, you never seemed to stop talking. It was a bit odd to him--he was used to talking and talking without anyone challenging his dominance in the conversation, but...well, he couldn't help but listen to you.

☆ Your ramblings seemed to be endless, and you always managed to surprise him. One minute you were absentmindedly remarking about the state of the weather, and the next you were animatedly raving about your adoration of birds...

☆ You were clingy, too. You'd embrace him like you were old friends every time you met, excitedly greeting him, holding both of his hands in your own as you told him of the latest happenings of your life...

☆ ...you know, you were prettiest when you talked.

☆ It wasn't long before he turned on the charm. The usual smile, the coy touches, quiet compliments in the language of love... Flirting was his speciality, and he knew it. Though you always responded in ways that continued to perplex him.

☆ "Oh, Francis! You make me blush ~ ! I have you know today's outfit took a loooong time to put together! Say, you don't happen to own a brooch like this, do you? I do! I got it from--ah, why would I tell you! It's more fun when you get to guess~"

☆ You...baffled him, to say the least. He couldn't tell if you were actually responding to his advances or if you were just plain too oblivious to notice. Or worse yet; ignoring them altogether.

☆ The idea of you ignoring them made his blood boil.

☆ You may have started to notice how he started to excuse himself during conversations, notably almost every time that he complimented you and you changed the subject--each time he put on a charming grin, called you some French pet name you may or may have understood, and scampered away to the bathroom to grip the sink like some adult drama protagonist who was caught in a gunfight and cheer himself up.

☆ "ALRIGHT, MON AMOR! You've done it before, you can do it again...why must it be so difficult!? I'm right as rain! Yes...yes I am!"

☆ He didn't really take into account how you may have been able to hear him from the other room...

☆ Either way, the more time went on, the more he started to excuse himself during your interactions. Eventually he'd stop chickening out and start laying on the compliments even thicker.

☆ "Oh, your eyes are like the sea at sunset, mon ange...such beautiful lips, such wonderful words that fall from them..."

☆ He had started doting over you. And clearly, you were starting to get the message.

☆ Good...good, it was working! That must mean he must continue like this! Doting...you MUST know how he loves you!

☆ You'd start getting roses at your doorstep, then pastries, then glass birds...all of which with gift tags or letters that were directly stated from Francis himself.

☆ That begged the question of how he even got to know your address in the first place.

☆ Speaking of which, how did he happen to know that this was your favorite dessert? You never told him...did you?

☆ You were just eating it last week in your favorite cafe...

☆ Come to think of it, you texted him while you were in there and heard someone else's phone buzz almost as soon as you sent the message... you chose not to think of it much then, though it definitely was whirling around in your mind for a while. Now you'll kept on alert.

☆ The gifts only increased in number and frequency as time went on. At first it was just a Bouquet of flowers a week, but then it became a new gift every single morning or evening. You were an attentive soul, but you couldn't fathom how Francis was able to get all those gifts to you...

☆ You couldn't help but giggle a little bit about it.

☆ Meanwhile, he was obsessed with you.

☆ He wasn't really sure how it happened. It started with the usual feelings he felt when he was in love--something he had experienced many, many times over the course of his long life--but the more he got to know you, the more he found it hard to crack you. Harder to flirt with than you looked and a paradoxical mind he couldn't find a way to hack into so he could get to your heart.

☆ So he had started stalking you. He's done it before, he can do it again. He's got all the time in the world for it, why not? He watches you as you left the house every morning, he watches you move from place to place, he watches you...move...merde, you were lovely.

☆ Soon enough he had memorized your routines, the places you've frequented the most, your favorite pasttimes...

☆ It was all laid out in a series of notes he had made in his room, all written in pompous cursive that grew more harried and almost crazed over time.

☆ When you meet in person now, he'd suggest going out drinking more often. Not only does love come easier under the haze of alcohol, though he can hear much more from you, as you somehow managed to be even more talkative when you were drunk--and even clingier.

☆ He himself was a bit scared by his behavior. You had him wrapped around your finger...putain! You were supposed to wrapped around his finger! It was supposed to be the other way around! But alas... things were just not meant to that way. He was positively losing it over you and those strange, strange ways you went about things.

☆ "ARHUR, I NEED HELP." "...oh, so were finally figuring it out, now?" "ARTHUR! I MEANT I NEED SPIES!!!"

☆ That was it. He had to do something about this.

☆ And thus, one Friday evening, you were strolling home, a bright smile on your face, only to swept away into a nearby alley.

☆ You instinctively started to scream, though a familiarly rough, albeit manicured hand had covered your mouth, muffling the sound.

☆ "Easy, easy, easyyy mon amour, it's only me ~ !"

☆ You feel warm, delicate lips pressed against your forehead. You tremble, but Francis' other hand threads through your hair.

☆ "Finally, finally, ma columbe, I have you all to myself..."

☆ As he pressed a kiss to your cheek, he was surprised to feel a smile quirking at your lips behind his palm. And another one of your trademark laughs.

☆ Francis' face filled with crimson as he ripped both of his hands away, holding both of them to his chest, sapphire eyes wide in shock.

☆ Francis really has a difficult time turning on that charm of his when he's dumb in love...

☆ "mo-mon crevette! I! Ah...what's with the face...?"

☆ "Weeell, I like it when you kiss me!"

☆ Francis blushes harder than he would like to admit.

☆ It's funny, because you knew he'd do that. And you also knew he'd probably come along tonight-- it was a bit of a surprise that it was this way, though surprises were fun to you, no?

☆ You started talking about how you had a feeling he was watching you for weeks as you held the side of his face and talked and talked, and halfway through Francis caught you in a very hungry kiss on the lips.

☆ Thankfully, you reciprocated.

☆ Francis was satisfied. Finally, he had you. Though, weirdly he found himself no less obsessed... it wasn't going away. Dammit...

☆ Maybe he should take you home and keep you there. Maybe that would help.

☆ Oh, wait now, your tongue was in his mouth--he couldn't possibly think now. All he could focus on was you, now. You laughed between kisses; my, you're excited, aren't you?

《 fin 》

Thank you for reading~

Like and reblog if you enjoyed!

[wabatle]

☆~France dressing up his s/o

wabatle nonsense:

France… fruity man… ♪

synopsis (woah that’s new): your boyfriend, Francis, loves to bring you new dresses and makeup (also he's rich ig).

warnings:

i do not speak French (so PLEASE tell me if I got anything wrong), and I used his human name because ahriugrieadkmd (real solid reason), other than that (if those even count) none♪

taglist: @hpd--ena (damn i hyped this up; IS IT GOOD)

“Chéri, I’m home!” Your boyfriend called as he entered the house.

“Welcome home, Francis.” You replied, hugging him.

“I bought you some more dresses. Would you like to try them on?” He asked.

“Of course,” You replied, allowing him to take your hand and lead you to a different room.

He carefully helped you into the dress, being sure not to hurt you or the dress as he zipped it up.

“Now, mon ange, please sit.” Francis told you, grabbing a comb as you sat.

You giggled softly. “Alright.” You tipped your head back to look at him. “We’re doing everything tonight? We’ll just have to take it all off when it’s time for bed.”

“That doesn’t matter to me, mon amour. All I want to do is see you looking beautiful in the clothes I got you,” He replied, gently taking the comb through your hair. “Besides, I'm taking you out to dinner tonight.”

“Huh? You are?” You blinked a few times.

“Of course. Why shouldn't I be able to treat mon soleil to a nice dinner every once in a while?”

“Hey, I'm not complaining.”

Francis continues combing your hair, being extremely careful not to pull too hard. He styles it into a bun.

“Is it too tight?”

“No, it's just fine.” You nodded.

He brings a makeup palette over.

“Huh?! Isn't that a really expensive brand?”

“Only the best for my love.”

He started applying makeup to your face, dusting your cheeks with a blush and tracing on eyeliner. After handing you a stick of lipstick, he started putting a necklace on you.

“Wow, Francis. You're really spoiling me today.” You told him, standing up to hug him.

He hugged you back, slowly breathing in your comforting scent.

“Like I said, only the best for you, chéri.” He kissed your lips.

“Thank you. I love you, Francis.”

“And I love you more, mon cœur.”

key for those who need it (like myself 💀):

Mon chéri/chéri - My darling/darling

Mon ange - My angel

Mon amour - My love

Mon soleil - My sun

Mon cœur - My heart

RAHHH adding creds to my buddy @/hpd--ena bc she helped me with some of the pet names so TY HOSHII!!! <3

[siren-serenity]

travelling the world, hetalia style

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 ☆ take a flight anywhere, everywhere! don't worry, the nation will be there to greet you soon; he's the perfect tour guide, rest assured. after all, he's watched this place thrive from the very beginning...

-all written by 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍-

note: the ones with (nsfw) are not suitable for minors! minors dni. however, those without any other labelling are safe for everyone :)

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓? note: i do not writes romantic/nsfw ships involve siblings in love, incest, yandere, etc. for example, i do not write USUK or FRUS because they raised alfred. (personally, i feel as if they are his role models when they were younger and it seems wrong for me to write romance or nsfw with them)

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒, 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐘 ↳˳;; ❝ the ways i say "i love you"ᵕ̈೫˚∗ ↳˳;; ❝ for you, mon ange"ᵕ̈೫˚∗

"bonjour! you look beautiful today; may i gift you a rose or two?"

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 ↳˳;; ❝ the ways i say "i love you"ᵕ̈೫˚∗

"would you mind if i share this corner of the library with you?" an enchantingly sweet voice murmured and you whirled around to meet an elegant face that should be framed in a museum. your eyes locked onto emerald green irises that shone of mysterious secrets. you nodded and the gentleman carefully took a seat in front of you before winking. "that's a lovely book you have there."

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘, 𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒 ↳˳;; ❝ _______________ᵕ̈೫˚∗

rapid footsteps echoing in the hall made you roll your eyes fondly. you braced yourself for the impact and a huff escaped your lips as somebody collided against you. his arms wrapped around you, muscles flexing against the signature bomber pilot jacket he always wore and a familiar, grinning face greeted your sight of vision. "hey babe! where are you going without your favorite hero?"

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇, 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐖 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒 ↳˳;; ❝ _______________ᵕ̈೫˚∗

"y-you're asking me for p-pancake recommendations? y-you can see me?"

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐌, 𝐘𝐀𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 ↳˳;; ❝ thinking of you still (drabble)ᵕ̈೫˚∗

"aru! would you like to visit the 'hello kitty' store with me today? i heard they released a new hello kitty model and i need it so badly!!"

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐔𝐍, 𝐊𝐈𝐊𝐔 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐀 ↳˳;; ❝ _______________ᵕ̈೫˚∗

"konichiwa. wourd [would] you rike [like] a cup of green tea to start the morning?"

𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐀 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀, 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐎 𝐕𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐒 ↳˳;; ❝ _______________ᵕ̈೫˚∗

"ve~ what a lovely day it is today-a! would you like-a to go sightseeing with-a me? and eat pasta!" he giggles and squeezes you tight. you only snuggle into the embrace, pressing a light kiss on his sensitive neck and nod. feliciano only grins and leads you away, babbling away with the brightest of auras coming from him.

[milkemim]

Day 12: Ice Skating

lowkey a day late but shh just pretend im not

WC: 600

Link to all chapters

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

It’s halfway to Christmas. To celebrate, France invited [Name] out to ice skate with him. A new rink had opened up and it wasn’t popular enough to be bustling with people everywhere yet, so it was perfect and roomy enough to have fun together. France was standing in front of the rink, waiting for [Name] to arrive. It didn’t take long for him to see them. He waves them over.

“[Nane], you’re finally here!” He smiles at them and gives them a quick hug.

“Ah, am I late? Sorry, I didn’t think you’d be here so on time.” [Name] smiles a little stupidly.

“I did not have to wait long, don’t worry! Come, let’s go sit and put our skates on!” He takes their hands and leads the two of them to a free bench. “Here, sit, sit! Let me help you!” He crouches down in front of them on the snow and begins taking their shoes off.

“Ah! I can do it myself-!” [Name], taken by surprise, says.

“Of course you can, but what kind of man would I be if I did not help, hmm?” France smiles up at them and slips a skate on their foot.

“Well… Thank you, ahahah,” they chuckle and let him do the rest.

After both their skates were on, the two held hands and shuffled to the rink. France let [Name] go in first, offering to help them down. After they got on the ice smoothly, he kept holding their hand tightly and also got inside the rink, though a bit less gracefully than them, but he recovered quickly and regained his elegance.

“So, why don’t you lead the way for us, mon ami?” France smiles at them charmingly, still not letting go of their hand.

His true intention was to let [Name] do most of the skating and have them pull him around, while also having him mostly out of sight, even though usually he liked to be the center of attention.

“Sure thing~” they smile and begin to lead. They quickly noticed the heavy baggage of France barely doing any movement and commented on it, “France, did you come here to slack off from work or something?” [Name] laughs.

“Ah! Well, no… Of course not. I want to spend time with my favorite non-country, possibly-a-country person!” France stammers.

“Tell me the truth, France.” They insist, skating backwards while holding both of his hands. France stumbles a little.

“W-well… The truth is…” He hesitates, “[Name], stop skating for just a little while.” He tries to make it seem more dramatic than the truth really is.

They break and stop skating fully, looking into his eyes. “What is it, France?”

“The truth is… I cannot really skate at all.” He closes his eyes and looks down heavily. “I asked you to come here with me because it sounded romantic and I completely forgot about it until the second. I am truly ashamed!” He squeezes their hands and looks back up at them, meeting their eyes.

“Ah… I see now… Then it’s going to be even more fun! I’ll teach you everything! Not that I’m the best skater or anything, but I have the basics down.” They smile brightly at France.

“Ah! How absolutely sweet of you, mon ami!” France smiles back, “I love that idea. Show me it all!”

It ended up being an incredibly fun time. The two skated until it got dark and then got something light to eat at a nearby cafe. France walked [Name] home and wished them a good night before walking back home himself, of course.

[serenity-songbird]

Falling Apart

(I feel like these chapters get longer and longer everytime...Welp enjoy the ride. First post in a while BABY!!!)

How does one describe love?

   It is fragile, yet tough.

   It can be pure ecstacy and utter heartbreak.

   It is bittersweet.

   It can be as hard to break as a diamond, yet at the same time, it can be shattered in a million pieces.

    It is both ignorant and blind while being as clear as day.

   It can be all these things and more.

   But no matter how hard you put it to thought, there isn't a simple word or sentence that can really describe what love is.

   Why are people so desperate to fall in love when it brings us such sorrow and despair?

   The Frenchman sat at the balcony pondering all this. He held a cup of wine in his hands and swirled it before taking another sip.

   He watched as the sunset over the horizon. The sky covered in beautiful hues of red, purple, and orange. He closed his eyes as a cool breeze flew through his golden locks.

   Thoughts of you flooded his mind and regret drowned his heart.

   To him, you were a beautiful mystery.

   He remembers when he used to fear you, but now...his couldn't deny that he felt a different feeling for you.

   He had tried to deny it for so long that he couldn't see it. Now, reality just bitchslapped him across the face before he realized he had fallen in love with you.

   He remembered when he was one of Jessica's suitors and would woo her to no end. He couldn't remember when, but recently he realized that he did not see her in the same light.

   Was he still protective over her?

   Yes, as everyone in this household was.

   But now, it was more of a platonic protective similar to how a sibling (you) would feel.

   How could he have been so stupid?

   The man furrowed his eyebrows and tsked in aggravation.

   Was it too late for a fool, such as himself, to take it all back?

   Yes.

Ah. What was he to do?

He closed his eyes and memories of that fateful day played like a movie in his mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Francis put his hands on his hips and breathed in the fresh air.

"Ah! It is a beautiful day, isn't it mon amie?"

The Canadian lagged behind trying to adjust the straps on the bag carrying the 14 golf clubs. It's not that he was struggling with its weight. The Canadian was quite strong. No the straps just refused to cooperate with him. He may be a bit tangled up...

"Yup. It is a great day." He grimaced as the strap rubbed against his neck hard...That was going to leave a mark...

"Oui!!! It is ze perfect day to enjoy ze weather and golf!" He glowed in the sunlight as he raised his arms high in anticipation. The Frenchman still hadn't noticed Matthew's struggle with the bag...

"Ah! We have finally made it to ze first hole! Matthew, please give me my wood club!"

"Ummm...Which one was the again?"

Francis sighed. How was he to participate in the golfing tournament this year with a caddie who didn't know anything about golf?

Well, since his old caddie quit, he doesn't have much of a choice...At least Matthew offered to help.

Well, Francis is going to have to teach him how to be a caddie.

He sweat-dropped to see Matthew tangled up in the straps.

*"Cela pourrait prendre un certain temps..."*

*(This may take some time...)*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mathew was quite the quick learner.

After some explanations and pointing things out, he got most of the game down and was able to properly be a caddie.

Francis was currently on hole 10 and was killing it.

He was confident that he could win the tournament.

"Fore!!!" He shouted before hitting the ball.

It's going.

Its going.

Oh no wait!!!

Not that way!!!

Noooo!!!

The ball plopped right into the lake.

A water hazard...

Francis sighed and went to put another ball on the tee pin.

"Bwahahaha!!! Wow! You are terrible at golf!"

"Sacré bleu!!!" Francis nearly had a heartattack.

He turned sharply to see...Elizaveta and...you holding your stomach in laughter.

He didn't know you two knew each other.

"You shouldn't be laughing, (Y/N)...You are vay vorse than he is...." Elizaveta sighed.

"That's because golf is a stupid sport!!!" You countered in frustration as you puffed out your cheeks.

"A-ah, Elizaveta...and (Y/N). W-What brings you here?" Francis was now walking on eggshells. He did not want to set off your anger.

You grabbed the railing of the golf cart you were on and stepped out. You wore a white collared shirt with gold buttons and a knee length (F/C) skirt. You ajusted (F/C) visor and walked over with your black and white golf shoes.

Francis had to admit. You were a beautiful woman. You had curves that were perfect to grab and pull you into a passionate dipped kiss.

But he would never do that to you. You'd surely beat him to death and bury him 8 ft underground. And yes he knows that they normally bury people 6 ft, but this women would beat him down two more feet...

"Have you forgotten, Francie? I too, am competing in the golf tournament zhis year. My best friend, (Y/N) offered to be my caddie."

"I wouldn't say offered...More as in forced..."

"Vhat was zat?" Elizaveta swirled her head to you, eyes glowing red.

"Eek!!! N-Nothing!" You cowered behind the closest thing to you. Which so happened to be poor Mattie.

You had grabbed onto him so roughly that you accidentally pulled him down, taking both you and the 2 tour bags belonging to Elizaveta and Francis down with.

"Ahhh!!!" "Eek!!!" You and Matthew screeched at the same time as you fell and the supplies In the bags scattered around.

Elizaveta pinched her nose and Francis sweatdropped.

"Oops...Sorry..." You apologized trying to push Matthew off you. Instead you made the tangle worse. Matthew just sighed in defeat. He was just done and was too annoyed to feel fear.

Elizaveta and Francis had to detangle you from each other.

Some time had passed afterwards. Elizaveta and Francis were waaay absorbed into their little competition they were having. They were tied something to something...Honestly, you weren't keeping track.

Golf was hard to understand.

Matthew was nice enough to try and explain it to you, buuut...it wasn't going so well.

Honestly, Matthew was suprised you were even being nice to him and not ignoring him.

(Little did he know, that you were being nice because Elizaveta was there and you didn't want her to kill you. With the small conversations he started to ease the tension, he wasn't so bad. So you were a little more friendly to him. Which made him grateful).

"Sooo. I know you tried to explain it all, buuut I'm not catching on at all. Why are there so many rules and such a difficult scoring system? All you got to do is hit the ball and get it in the hole." You sighed. "What a drag..."

"Yeah...I'll have to agree with you on that one." Matthew was now more relaxed. You were actually a nice person when you weren't yelling or throwing your fists around. Using his peripheral vision, he glanced at you. Something in him wanted to ask this question, but he wasn't sure where it came from. "Ms. (Y/N)? May I ask you a personal question?"

"First, don't call me Ms. (Y/N). Just (Y/N) is fine and depending on the question, sure."

"Why are you so against your sister falling in love with us?"

You clenched your fists around the club you were leaning on. You're face scrunched up with an emotion he couldn't decipher.

"..."

"I-I'm sorry. Was that too-"

"You seem like a decent person, Mattie. So I'll tell you." You locked eyes with him and his heart dropped. Your eyes were cold and dull. "Love is a scam. I've learned time and time again that nothing good comes out of it. You think you're on top of the world only to discover it was all a lie and you were at rock bottom. You only get used and abused." A stray tear dripped down your right eye. "It's not worth it...I'm just trying to protect my sister from the same fate..."

Your voice was distant and forlorn in a manner he never witnessed. From just those words and tone, he felt like he suddenly understood you. He may not know the details of what you went through, but he understood enough.

He wanted to help you.

"You're crying..."

"I'm not crying. There's just dirt in my eye."

"...Of course." He decided to drop it, knowing how stubborn you are. He passed you a tissue. "Here. To wipe the dirt away."

"...Thanks." You wiped your face and put on some sunglasses...To block the sun of course. You and Matt stood in silence for a few minutes before Elizaveta started cursing near the lake. You both walked over to see the problem.

"A Fenébe! [Damn it] It blew my golf ball into ze lake!"

"Hon hon hon. Seems you are not as good as you thought, Oui?"

"You shouldn't be talking. Your ball went in the lake too." You deadpanned.

"Igen! You are not one to talk! Aw, it's too bad. I really loved zhat golf ball. It waz pink."

"Oh, I'll get it for you. I'm a really good swimmer." With no hesitation you jumped into the lake.

"Aaahhh!!! Te őrült lány !! (You crazy woman) Vhat are you doing?!?!?!" Elizaveta screeched.

"Wait, am I supposed to get your ball too Francis! I know you said I have to carry your stuff and pick it up..." Matthew scratched his head in confusion.

"Non!!! Once ze ball gets in the lake, it's supposed to stay zhere!"

"I got it!!!" You surfaced from the water holding the ball high and proud.

"Get out of ze vater now!!!" Elizaveta grabbed a beach towel that you brought along so you could sit on the grass.

You got out the water and your white shirt had become see through. Everyone could see your bra. Matthew looked away, Respectfully. Francis on the other hand stared...Respectively.

"It really is a shame zhat she is so scary..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Well...this day wasn't what Francis had planned at all...

Elizaveta practically dragged you into the women's locker room spewing curses and lectures on ladylike behaviors.

Francis was annoyed at the fact that instead of improving his skills, he ended up losing to Elizaveta...AGAIN. Not only t hat, but now he has to buy more golf balls since 2 are now lost forever in that damned lake. He signed his initials on them.

You could have at least gotten his balls too while you were at it. So unfair.

It doesn't help that he came here in the first place to ease his frustrations in the morning.

Arthur decided he wanted to try a new recipe...Somehow he managed to...well...he somehow set the water he was boiling on FIRE...

How?!?!?!

He tried to put out the fire by throwing the fish onto the fire...

Obviously that made it worse.

So then, the kitchen was on fire and not had a horrible smell of burning fish and...whatever it was that Arthur seasoned it with.

Ludwig put out the fire.

Arthur is no longer allowed in the kitchen.

As if that wasn't irritating enough, and here's the topper on the cake, his car broke down!!!

Are you kidding me?!?!?!

A squirrel somehow got into the hood of the car. When the car started up, the critter completely freaked out and damaged the battery.

Mr. Squirrel at least got away with no major injuries, but the car battery...not so lucky.

So now here he was sitting next to YOU of all people in the back of the car. Matthew was on the passenger side of the car. (Francis called shotgun, but Elizaveta didn't want to have to grab here frying pan to hit him while driving. And she was mad at you still for jumping into the lake and embarrassing her).

Worst part is...it was an hour drive to the Mechanics. You lot were following the tow truck there.

Elizaveta may get annoyed and angry with Francis from time to time, but she still offered to take him to the Mechanics due to her kind nature and (Despite your protesting, pouting, and grumbling in disagreement)

The car ride was silent and awkward at first. Matthew turned on the radio to cancel out the silence. While, it eased a bit of tension, the atmosphere was still awkward.

Elizaveta wasn't as angry anymore, but still a little frustrated. Matthew was nervous. Francis was annoyed. You were feeling guilty.

In order to ignore the tension around you, you pulled out your tablet and started designing.

You were an architect/interior designer. You worked on not only building houses, but designing them as well. You recently received a major project for a rich and famous man.

Richard Vicente (He is not real. He is an OC) is a famous Broadway Star. He's featured in musicals, plays, talk shows; you name it.

Not only that but, boy oh boy, is he handsome. Chestnut colored, wavy locks adored his head. His sunny smile would send hearts racing. Toned, 6ft, and all sexy.

The ladies would go crazy over him. You arel not like all the other girls who loved him because of his looks and charms. You were a fan of his talents.

That's. It.

You refused to fawn over some famous, most likely a, playboy. You refused to scream, jump around, and say something provocative or flirty to get him into bed.

You would never act like one of those foolish fangirls.

Perhaps that's why Vicky, your boss, asked you to do the project.

When they announced the project, literally everyone climbed over each other just to be the one who takes it.

You, on the other hand, stayed in your seat. Why would you want to cater to some playboy? He probably breaks hearts on a daily basis and uses women for his own sick needs and wants.

Gross.

And yet your boss practically slammed the papers on your desk and ordered you to be the lead. Plus, she said that if you did a good job, there was a possibility of promotion.

That word made you perk up. So of course you took the job. And only complained a little.

That's what you were working on right now. I'm going to tell you that this re-modeling...is the hardest fucking project you've ever taken!!!

What even is this?!?!?!

A waterslide leading from the bedroom into the living room pool??? Sure that sounds cool and all, but wouldn't it be better to have a normal slide inside the house and a waterslide outside or in a designated indoor pool room???

You can get water all over the furniture and walls. Possible Mold if not probably maintained.

Ugh...

You're getting a headache.

When you meet this man, you are going to kill him...At least in your mind...You really like your job and don't want to get fired...

Francis glanced over to you as you sighed in frustration. He examined the 3D Model you had designed. It wasn't finished, but the rooms you completed and the shape of the house was a sight to behold.

"Oh la vache! [Oh damn] (Y/N) zhat looks amazing!" Francis couldn't help but admire your skills. The modern look mixed with a techno theme somehow worked beautifully together.

You jumped when he exclaimed, and got confused when he suddenly moved to sit closer to you and flip around the 3D house in...is that admiration?

"U-um thanks...I get to lead a very important project. I'm creating the design based on what Mr. Vicente wrote down... though I'm having trouble designing the more...difficult structures."

Now that you snapped out of the initial shock of his unexpected reaction, you noticed how close he was now and suddenly got a familiar chill. It was not a good sign...You won't do this again.

"Also, back off! You're way too close to me right now!"

"But Cherie! I couldn't help but admire your talented model...Aussie [Also] I couldn't help, but notice your face," he gently grabbed your chin seductively, "Turned wine red when you saw 'ow close I was. Could it be, you've fallen for me?"

"Fallen for-??? Absolutely not!!!" You smacked his hand away. Turned your face and crossed your arms. "Humph!"

"She hit me!!! Did you see zhat?! Si méchant! [How mean]"

"That's vhat you get!!! Keep your filthy French hands off of her before I turn zhis car around!" Elizaveta swiftly became overprotective.

Matthew sighed. He just wanted to go back home.

Francis pouted in the corner dramatically for a bit.

A few minutes passed by before Francis muttered a suggestion out of the blue.

"By zhe way...If 'e really wants a swirly slide why don't you build zhe slide to become a tube and 'ave it lead outside? It would solve zhe problem of limited room indoors. You can also put a glass shield around zhe indoor pool to prevent water damage on zhe furniture. And a spot with towels so 'e can dry off and not get water all over zhe place when 'e gets out. Although...I zhink zhe idea of a waterslide is ridiculous. A regular slide, sure, but a waterslide? Oh là là... I would personally try and change 'is mind"

You paused.

"Those...weren't terrible ideas...Maybe you're onto something...But how should I make it look?"

As quickly as a snap of the fingers, you got into work mood and Francis got looped into helping with creating blueprints.

You loved your job. You were passionate about it and got excited whenever talking about it.

Francis, had never seen you so...passionate. There was a sparkle in your eyes and you smiled in excitement. Whenever he proposed an idea or recommendation based on Mr. Vicente's wants, you'd get so excited.

You'd exclaim, "Wow! That's a great idea!" And eagerly write it down or build it into the 3D model.

The both of you worked together to create an almost complete blueprint. When Elizaveta pulled into the Mechanic parking lot, the two of you didn't notice.

Both Matthew and her were surprised by the change in atmosphere. But it helped brighten the mood.

Elizaveta had known you for a while. She knows why you are so stubborn and mean. So seeing you happily talking about your passion with another man...she was relieved...Although, she wished it was with someone else and not that French Bastard.

It was a strange feeling...You were in such a deep conversation and were... disappointed when you got to your destination.

Francis signed papers, got a retail car, and paid for their service.

The rental car pulled up and the 4 of you helped Francis move stuff from his car to the rental.

"Okay! Zhat is all of it. Merci. [Thank you] I will see you back at 'ome!"

Something inside you felt displeased at that thought. Francis helped you so much on your project...It was a pleasant conversation...That's all.

"Wait! Can I drive with you?!" You ran towards him clutching your tablet and books to your chest. You looked up at him with doe eyes. "I-I, I~ need help with this project. You see, it's due in 6 days and you can help me get it done earlier. I could totally impress my boss and get that promotion. Pleeease, help meee."

In your mind, 'It is strictly business! You just want that promotion (Y/N). You're just asking for his help and you do not have any interest in him! No matter how fairytale handsome he is. No! Don't think like that! He is still a playboy and you are not going to fall for a man like that!'

Elsewhere in Francis's mind. He was a little upset. Now you want to be all sweet and nice to him because you need something! The nerve of you! You will not use him just for your own benefit!

...Yet

Regardless of the way you treated him in the past, (Which by the way was literally earlier today and nearly everyday in the past before than), he couldn't say no to your doe eyes...and it was nice talking to you and seeing your cute expressions when talking about your passion.

He wanted to see more.

Not that he has feelings for you! It's due to his French nature! A man must never leave a damsel in distress when she is asking for help.

"...Oui. You may. I do 'ave an amazing sense of style and taste when it comes to making zhings beautiful! Afterall, I myself, am beautiful."

You rolled your eyes at the last statement.

"HUH!?!?!? Vait a minute why do you suddenly vant to go vith zhis Perverz! [Pervert] Plus, I don't vant to drive an hour all alone!" Elizaveta huffed.

"I-It's strictly for business! He...has good ideas. Aaand If you're worried about driving alone...Matthew can go with you!" You pointed at him.

"Who?" She turned around. "A francba! I forgot you were there!"

"I figured...At least (Y/N) remembered me..."

"Are you okay with that Matthew?" You asked politely.

"Yeah. I don't mind." He decided to do you this favor since you didn't forget him.

So it was settled. You split into two groups and drove home.

A lot changed during the drive between both groups.

Elizaveta felt bad about forgetting about Matthew so she got to know him.

Matthew is now under the protection of Elizabeta and if anyone dares forget him or make fun of him, they will die.

Elsewhere, you and Francis worked on the project. Then, the conversation drifted abroad...and something just clicked between you too.

You started talking about your likes, dislikes, why you chose the career you did, etc. You two realized you had a lot in common and got to know each other better.

The drive only felt like it was a few minutes. You...had a good time with him.

You could even say you became friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the next 5 days, you and Francis worked on the Project to make it flawless.

You learned even more about each other and soon he realized why you acted the way you did. Men had hurt you so badly that you built up your guard.

He wanted to protect you. He didn't want to see you hurt anymore.

He even told you some of his troubles.

Yes, within 5 days he gained your trust.

5 days might not seem like a lot, but love doesn't have a timeline.

It comes whenever it want to.

And cupid really struck your hearts at that perfect moment.

You were drawing up some ideas and you had the perfect one. You, super animated, scurried over to Francis before you slipped on a piece of paper on the floor and braces yourself.

Instead of hitting the ground, you felt a pair of strong arms around your waist. You opened your eyes and locked on to Francis. He held you in a dip pose and your faces were close together.

How could you deny it any longer? Within 5 days, you'd fallen in love with someone who loves your sister.

Oy vey...This...is not good.

You see there's a major problem with falling in love with that French man.

Not only is he a flirt and a playboy, but he is the type of man you tried to avoid to fall for.

Do you have any idea the pain that stabs your chest whenever you see someone you love flirt with someone else?

And it wasn't just your sister! It was other girls! Every girl except you!!!

You dug yourself into your work to try and ignore this feeling. But it grew more and more as you got to know each other.

Then, you gave the plans to Mr. Vicente. He was so impressed by your teamwork that he also hired Francis.

Of course you would put Francis's name as co-creater. You worked together on it and you would never be selfish.

Aaand because of your generosity, you were now stuck with him at work as well...

He'd flirt with your female coworkers.

He didn't flirt with you...Why?!

Is it because of how you treated him before? You had already apologized!

...Who are you kidding. Of course it's for that reason. Things like that can't just be forgotten!

Stupid!!!

And then there was Francis...For a French man who claims he knows everything about love, he's oblivious when It comes to him.

He's a man of love and beauty. Of course he is going to compliment beautiful girls. That's who he is. He knows that other women swoon over him daily, but he is also a faithful man.

Since Jessica moved in he hasn't had any type of courtship with anyone. He may make love to other when single, but he believes in true love. He's never cheat. And he knows that people think that of him. But he will not let it bring him down. He knows who he is.

Besides, he is in love with (Y/ -J-Jessica. He's in love with Jessica...right?

Of course he is! He's only gotten close to (Y/N) a month ago. He is just protective of her because of her past...Yes. That is what it is.

That's why he gets so angry when Mr. Vicente or Richard flirts with you. It's so obvious. He works very closely with you whenever he can.

...Getting close to you, barely touching shoulders or hands.

Doing everything he can to make you laugh...To hear that enchanting laughter.

Complimenting you just to make you blush and smile. Which is so cute.

...He doesn't trust that man.

And he had reason to hate him even more when he asked you out on a date.

"Ooh lala!~ Where are you going dressed up all nice?" Your sister whistled when you walked down the stairs.

You were stunning. (F/C) dress, (gold/silver) jewelry to compliment it, and your hair styled in a way that made his heart burst.

Even the other men couldn't help but admire the beauty she was. His stomach knotted up.

"I'm going on a date." Francis's heart dropped into his stomach.

"That poor~a fool."

"I will kill you!!! Shut up Lovino!!!' She chucked the cat figurine that was on the shelf at him.

"Ow!!! Now~a listen her-" Just as he stood up, Jessica pulled him down.

"Now. Now let's now fight. (Y/N). It is very rude to throw things at people. And Lovino that was a very hurtful comment. Both of you apologize right. Now."

"I'm sorry..."

"Mi dispiace..."

Francis sat there clutching his pants and getting his teeth.

'What is zhis...zhis awful feeling?'

It was all he could think about. He didn't like it.

He was so lost in his mind that when he snapped back into reality, you were already out the door.

"S'il vous plaît excusez-moi. (Please excuse me)" He had stood up so quickly that even England was concerned.

"Frankie? What's wrong?" Jessica paused the movie.

He didn't respond because the next thing he knew, his hand was on your shoulder. You jumped from fright.

"F-Francis! What do you think you're- why do you look so angry?!"

"So zhis is the real reason why you needed my 'elp, hmm?"

You blinked in confusion. "Huh? W-What are you talking about?"

"You just used me to impress zhe rich man so 'e'd fall in love with you! Why y-y-you're nozhing but a selfish, inconsiderate, Gold-digger!"

He was suprised and even stepped back when you slapped him across the face.

"Ex-fucking-scuse me!!! First of all, you knew from the beginning that I wanted the promotion! I never said anything about Richard because It wasn't the reason! I did it for my job! Second of all, don't you ever insult me, yell at me, and grab me like that ever again. Who the fuck do you think you are!"

She's right of course. He knew it, yet he couldn't control his anger. He had never been this angry before. Even with Arthur!

Why does his heart hurt so much?

Why was he yelling these things?

What is he even saying?

"Furthermore, I know you are not talking. You! Who claims to he in love with my sister. Yet! You flirts with every woman you see. You! Who has probably been with more women than I can count on all my fingers and toes! Don't you dare shame me for accepting a date from a nice guy who actually makes me feel good about myself! Not like you who makes me feel so insecure! Why is it that you flirt with every woman except me! And you claim you're so in love with my sister. Ugh! I can't believe I fell in love with you! You are just a walking red flag!"

"L-love?" Francis suddenly felt sick.

"You know what. I am sooo glad you showed me your true colors. It only proved that I was right about you from the beginning. A perverted fuckboy who doesn't care that he's constantly breaking hearts for his own satisfaction."

Ouch. That hurt.

"Now move. I'm going to be late for my date." You pushed him out if the way, got in your car and drove off fighting back tears.

Francis just stood there in shock. "She...loves moi?"

"What is the matter with you! Aren't you going to go after her?!?!?!" Jessica stormed up him. "Well? Say something!" She and the others had listened to the entire fight and Jesssica was furious.

He didn't respond even when Matthew came to check up on him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And this brings us to where we are now as he drowns his sorrows with wine.

The sun had already set with how long he sat there.

What a fool he was to not see it.

He placed his face in his hands in aggravation.

What was he going to do now?

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

Cooking Together - (W/ America, England, Canada, Russia, France) x GN!Reader

Summary: Cute little scenarios where you cook together with some of the nations. 💕

Contents/Possible Warnings: A lot of food mentions, fluff, like a ton of fluff, slightly suggestive/flirty dialogue and implications (nothing outright not sfw), major emphasis on how England cannot cook

America (Alfred F. Jones)

There were both pros and cons to the situation you found yourself in. The pros were that the kitchen smelled nicely of apples and cinnamon, but the cons were that the flour had only been out for a few minutes and it was already everywhere. Still, the smell of cinnamon was nice; so you had that going for you.

Despite the state of the room around you, your boyfriend was not deterred in the slightest. In fact, he was practically bursting with excitement, humming a song as he formed the dough that the flour had been used for into a pie crust. A fresh apple pie was the end goal, and he couldn't be more thrilled. The way those handsome, baby blue eyes of his were shining with pure glee had you melting.

"I haven't baked in so long!" He exclaimed, grinning at you while you worked on the pie filling in the bowl in front of you, the scent of nutmeg in the air now joining the smell of cinnamon. "Hold on," He told you suddenly, reaching out to cup your face in his hands. "You've got something on your lips." With that, he kissed you sweetly, smiling into the kiss as his lips moved against yours.

"There we go," He spoke, pulling away once he was done, looking satisfied with himself. "All taken care of." You chuckled, your cheeks a light shade of red. "Did I really have something on my lips, or did you just want to kiss me, Alfred?"

"Both. You tasted like sugar, literally." He laughed, kissing you again, much quicker this time. "It isn't even done yet, but you might be sweeter than the apple pie is, babe." He teased with a small smirk.

"If we hurry up you can have both, you know."

You didn't need to say that twice. He did go fast when he was motivated, after all, especially with an awesome two-for-one deal. Needless to say, you both shared a lot of kisses that tasted like sugary, cinnamony apples that day.

England (Arthur Kirkland)

As much as you didn't want to admit it because it sounded harsh, Arthur Kirkland could not cook or bake anything without it going horribly wrong, even when it came to the dishes he had been 'perfecting' for years now. Fish and chips? That would burn. Beef wellington? Overcooked and inedible. His infamous scones? Ash. If you weren't used to it by now, the results of his cooking would scare you.

Speaking of scones, he tried to make them at least once every month or two, and surprisingly, nothing had yet to catch on fire. It made your heart break without fail every time you saw him look at his failed attempts, though.

"Arthur? Love?" You approached him one night, having already gone out to the store and bought every ingredient you'd need from the scone recipe you'd found online (you weren't going to risk using his. It might very well have been cursed.) "Do you want to bake with me? It could be an unplanned date night." You smiled at him warmly. You were his biggest soft spot, and he always gave in to those smiles of yours.

"Of course, dear." He smiled back, placing the book he had been reading down. "Oh! We should bake scones, I haven't made any in a while, and you love my scones, don't you?" You nodded, your smile faltering a bit as you remember the last time you tried his scones. They were burnt, of course, but you still managed to put on a smile and tell him how good it was in a little white lie.

"I was thinking the same thing." You responded, leading him to the kitchen to show him that you had already prepared everything. Every measurement was made and ready, all he had to do now was put it in a bowl, mix, and then bake. Easy as that. Or you hoped.

"This must've taken you a while, love." He observed, smile widening at the sight. You were so sweet to him! He never liked the whole measuring part, and here you had done it all for him. He could swoon over just how much he loved you. "Let's get started!" He exclaimed, overflowing with excitement.

With you guiding him along, things came out more than edible, they looked delicious! Instead of a hardened, blackened mess, the scones looked almost exactly like the picture in the recipe as you pulled them out of the oven.

"Look, Arthur!" You grinned, showing him the tray before setting it down. "You did it! These look bakery-worthy—" You let out a surprised gasp as he pulled you into a celebratory kiss, soon melting into it.

"Aha! Now France can't say I don't know how to cook!" He beamed, causing you to begin laughing. If he was happy, then so were you.

Canada (Matthew Williams)

Mornings with Matthew were always something you looked forward to. Waking up in his arms, combing your fingers through his soft, messy blond hair, and giving him his well-deserved 'good morning' kisses. It was a pure domestic bliss that you wouldn't trade for anything else in the world.

"What do you want for breakfast, hon?" He asked softly, still cuddled up next to you in bed. Another great thing about mornings with him was his cooking. Every day without fail he made you something mouth-watering good. Whether it was something simple or more complex, everything he made showed his love for you, even if cooking seemed to be a bit mundane to some people.

"Pancakes? Ooh! Blueberry pancakes." You replied happily, a small laugh leaving him in response. He blushed slightly, finding your enthusiasm both endearing and adorably cute. "Let me help you make 'em," you insisted with a grin. He laughed again before leaning into you, unable to resist kissing you when you were this adorable.

It didn't take long for you to find yourselves in the kitchen, hugging him from the side as you watched him cook. The blueberry-filled batter you had made turned out amazingly, and you were eager to see the results of your work in the form of masterly crafted pancakes.

When they were all done and covered in Matthew's favorite maple syrup you both sat down to eat, talking about whatever crossed your minds as you ate your breakfasts and sipped your coffee. It was moments like this why you savored and enjoyed your mornings with him, these moments where you two engaged in quality time and you were reminded just why you had fallen in love with him.

Oh, not to mention you also liked how his lips tasted like maple syrup when you were kissing him afterward, too.

Russia (Ivan Braginsky)

Before he met you he was used to doing everything alone, including having meals. He had no one to share his favorite dishes with, and eating was always a lonely activity when the seat next to him at the dinner table was empty. When you came along things weren't so isolating anymore.

Cooking dinner together had become a staple in your relationship early on, the act being used as a way to spend some quality time together in a simpler fashion. It was something that you two used to bond when you were still getting used to each other. Cooking wasn't just making a meal for you, it was a display of priceless non-physical intimacy.

"That tickles, Ivan," you giggled, feeling him nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as you sauteed the meat and stirred the sauce you'd need for the meal you were making, the tall Russian towering over you from behind as he held you gently. "You're really affectionate today, дорогой."

He let out a happy hum in reply, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. "You're cute today, мое солнышко. How could I not be?" You smiled at his compliment before grabbing a spoon and scooping a bit of the sauce inside of the pot in front of you, turning around to face him. "Open up," you said, moving the spoonful toward his mouth and letting him taste what you had made.

"Very good," He told you after tasting the sauce. "You're starting to cook like a professional, дорогой. I don't think I've ever had a better beef stroganoff sauce." You blushed, tilting your head to the side. "Really?" It really must've been good if he hadn't tasted a better version of a dish he had eaten countless times over the decades.

"You're being cute again," He chuckled, a warmth growing in his chest at the sight of you. He loved you and these moments together so, so much.

France (Francis Bonnefoy)

French cuisine wasn't known for being regarded as some of the best in the world for no reason. Living in Paris with your boyfriend who was fond of dinner dates led you to witness firsthand why France was seen as a leader in the culinary arts. As much as you loved going to a fancy restaurant and sipping wine while you ate with Francis, you wanted tonight's date to be a bit less extravagant.

All you wanted was to cook with him at home and share a simple night over a home-cooked meal. Luckily, your boyfriend wasn't opposed to the idea in the slightest.

"This is romantic, oui?" He questioned with a pleased smile as he poured you a glass of wine (nothing too expensive, per your own request). "A night in with mon amour. What could be better?" He smiled, handing you your glass. "I'm a chef magnifique, so you'll be served food better than any restaurant can offer."

He wasn't exaggerating, either. As your date commenced, you were pleasantly surprised to see how talented he was when it came to both cooking the main course and baking the dessert of raspberry macarons. The only downside was that the macarons were harder to make than they looked.

"Mine look weird compared to yours," you observed, looking over to see his work. "I think I keep piping in too much jam..." He looked over at yours, nodding in agreement. "Oui. But they'll still taste good, non?" His gaze then traveled to your lips, and he smirked. "You have jam on your face, mon amour."

He leaned in, kissing you lovingly, making sure to get rid of that raspberry jam he was talking about. You tasted beyond sweet, and that wasn't just because of the macaron filling. "You know, I wouldn't mind tasting something else tonight other than the food we made, chérie~"

"Let's eat first, Francis," you replied with a playful roll of your eyes. He was a flirt, but he was still yours.

[yawujin]

I was wondering if I could request how the Allies + Canada would react to meeting an immortal? (Not a personification - so could be vampire, witch, mutant (kinda like wolverine he's over 200 tears old), or any other immortal being). -🪽

request | how the allies would react to an immortal

type | react , gender non specific reader , sad-ish(?) , blood mention

america/alfred f. jones ♡

he's ecstatic

takes you to meet tony ofc

asks you like, a thousand questions on what it's been living for so many years

he can relate to you in so many ways, being a country himself

although he still feels so young (he's only 245 years old after all)

england/arthur kirkland ♡

arthur became instantly intrigued by you, seeing as you were a witch

he knew a few things about magic too, so he thought you two could relate

however, the magic you knew blew whatever he's learned out of the water

forgetting his pride, he goes to you for help whenever he messes up a spell

he truly enjoys your presence and is so grateful that he was able to meet you

france/francis bonnefoy ♡

francis couldn't believe his eyes

he thought he knew you from before, a long, long time ago

with every question he asked you, the more curious he became

even if you were not the person he thought you were

he's still interested in your life, and your endless experiences

he's happy to share his with you, too

canada/matthieu williams ♡

shocked that you came up to him first

even more shocked that you thought he stood out from the crowd

he tries to get over it quickly so he can listen to what you have to say

when you tell mattie you're an immortal, a million questions come flooding to the forefront of his mind

he's excited, sure, but he's also a diplomat so he takes it step by step

he's just happy you entrusted him with this secret of yours

russia/ivan braginsky ♡

when you reveal to ivan that your upbringing was just as hard as his

he finds it within himself to sympathize with you, and comfort you

you do the same, after a while realizing that it might be better to focus on the good things in your lives

he reminisces with you about all the good times he has had in all the years he's been russia

and you let him talk, for you know that it's been a while since he's had anyone that wants to listen to him remember the happy things

china/yao wang ♡

there are very few things that scare yao, so you being a vampire does not faze him

he's seen a lot in his lifetime (he's old)

he'd rather you feast on blood away from the expensive silks he has in his home

scolds you for staying up late (no, he does not care that you're a vampire and that's just what you do)

he always has fun trying to guess which century you are from (you'll never tell him, even if guesses correctly)

˚✧ ₊˚ nordics headcanons

[headingalaxys-spicy]

I've never read anyone write about a yandere with a lover who just unconditionaly loves them, so can we get just that? For the F.A.C.E fam (seperately), they were taking care of someone who they believed was getting in the way of their relationship. And then his love walked in on them, but instead of freaking out and booking it like any sane woman she just started frantically trying to hep out with the body and telling them to hurry up! Because she's not willing to lose them, even if it means becoming an accomplice of their crime.

Me: Ooooooh me like a challenge! Hope you like!

Warning: TW is kinda violent and mentions blood. So maybe not a read for everyone.

France

The Parisian air still held onto a little more warmth from the late summer sun. A few fireflies accompanied you on your way home. In your arms, you had plenty of sweets to pair with your decadent wines in the home that you and Francis shared, from Charlotte aux Framboises, Eclair geants, Pate de fruits framboise, freshly roasted hazelnuts & more. You wanted to show Francis you thought his affection toward you was sweet. 

So dinner tonight be damned! 

You wanted him to relax tonight & not have to worry about going to the shops to find the best ingredients for tonight's dish. The two of you could just be filled to the brim with sweets and be drunk off the wine and the-

You began to notice there were droplets of blood that got bigger as you approached your apartment. 

‘No. No…He’s hurt!!!’ You almost drop all of your treats in your hassle to get to your lover. You burst open the door to see Francis’ clothes coated in blood. To your relief, it seemed not to be his but that of the overly flirtatious coworker from your magazine label you’d complained about to Francis before.  

When Francis turned his head to see your figure, he was relieved momentarily to see your pleasant face. That moment was short-lived when he realized he would have to explain the gory scene before you. He was going to have to think of a palatable lie, beg, and-

“Darling! Darling!” You rush towards him and caress his face. It had a few droplets of the annoying mans blood on it mixing in with his sweat. You give him a kiss on the forehead & stare him dead in the eyes. 

“How can you be so reckless, Mon Choue?” (My sweetie) You left a trail leading right to you!” 

Very few people in this world could make Francis flustered as you had. Your reaction made him feel light as if he were in a daydream. You weren’t terrified. That means there was nothing he had to hide from you. There was a significant amount of solace that slowed down his quickly speeding heart. 

“You don’t have to explain. I can put 2 & 2 together. But my love, we do have a narrative to create and tracks to cover~” You gently rubbed your nose to his. Your fingers rubbed his stubble as you now could be at ease now that one of your biggest pests had been taken care of. 

“Yo…You’re not mad..or scared… or…” 

You seal his lips with a satisfying pop. 

“I’m not afraid, Mon Choue. I’ll help with the cleanup. I’m just somewhat concerned about….” Your eyes wandered back to the scarlet explosion that led you here. Francis's bright blues eagerly followed. 

You utilized your IT skills to hack into the security cameras that monitored your apartment complex. You erased all of the footage that had Francis dragging that nuisance that had been plaguing your life for the past couple of months. You do the same for any other potential camera that might have held evidence of the murder. 

You bleached the ground and the floors that had the red DNA discreetly. You loved your French man and would do anything to protect him. You assisted him in getting the body to the Seine River and attaching cinder blocks to the body bag so there wasn’t a likely chance it would resurface. 

America

You’d been distracted by nostalgic video games like Nintendogs, Animal Crossing & other saccharine games of the like. It had been 7-hours since Alfred last texted you. That’s the longest he’d gone without sending you cute, witty texts, gifs, memes etc. You sent him another text at around 16:34. Your eyes stared longingly at the small rectangular screen. 

“He must be super busy today, but he’ll text me soon.” You simply wanted him to be home already. You had DoorDashed pizza and burgers from his favorite local joint in case he was extra hungry. Your mind tries to refocus your attention on your video games but to no avail. Something felt off. You could feel unease rise in the pit of your stomach. 

“Maybe I didn’t fill the pantry up enough for the weekend….” You slid on your slippers & made your way downstairs. As you passed the basement door you noticed it was slightly ajar. 

“Hm? Could he be home already? I didn’t hear him come in….” You heard a few bumps & grunts from down below. Your heart dropped into your stomach. 

‘He could be hurt! Or maybe an intruder!’ You quickly grab the hidden 9mm that was hidden beneath a secret compartment from the staircase. You pushed open the door and called out into the dimly lit place. 

“Alfred! Alfred! Are you down here?” 

The hairs on the back of Alfred’s neck stand up on high. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” He cursed under his breath. Alfred tried to hide the mutilated corpse of your creepy “friend” who was in your core friend group for some reason. He was the type that relentlessly flirted with you. What made it worse is the scumbag somehow had a fiance. Alfred believed that not only was he doing your relationship a favor but the entire world. 

He just wasn’t prepared to unveil his darker yandere tendencies to you today. He hastily found a tarp to cover the body. 

“Alfred! Alfred! Are you down here, babe?” Your footsteps cautiously descend the stairs. He could hear the concern in your voice, so he knew he had to answer. He swallowed hard and finally said: 

“Yes, babe! I’m down here! Just uh….working on a project.” You picked up on the nervousness in Alfred’s voice. When your lover was finally in your sight, he jumped a little and stood in front of the table that had the body that was mostly covered by the tarp. 

A dismembered arm had made a mushy ‘thud’ to the concrete floor. There was a pregnant silence that suffocated the both of you for a few moments. As your eyes and brain processed the scene that was before you. You broke out into a boisterous cackle. 

“Oh my god Alfred! Who did you kill?” Still laughing. You knew when you started dating him he had some malevolent quirks hidden beneath his sunny & fun exterior but that’s why you adored him. 

“You know that one asshole, Jason, who was a pest & flirted with you & always tried too hard to be around you and your friends.” 

“Oh my god, yes! Finally! That creepy bastard is dead!” You rush over to him & embrace him warmly. 

“Thank you, Alfred!” You gently peck his lips. You could tell from the sparkle in his deep blue hues that he was pleasantly surprised and relieved. 

“You’re welcome Y/N.” 

“I’ll help you with the body later. Just wash up. I DoorDashed us Pizza and Burgers. And you know those don’t taste great cold.” You give him a final peck on the lips before your phone alerts you that your food has arrived. 

“See you upstairs, my love.~” 

You shoot the body a couple of times to let out some of your former frustrations. You hated this guy as much as Alfred did. So assisting him with disposing of the body brought you a sadistic type of joy. 

The two of you decide to dissolve the body in acid along with any of his personal items. No trace of him would be left in this world. It brought the two of you great joy when he appeared on unsolved mysteries years later. 

Canada

The shovel quickly moved the mushy dirt aside. The freshly falling snowfall made it difficult for Matthew to keep up the momentum. He’d been at this for a few hours now. The sunlight was beginning to fade. Matthew still had a few more feet to dig before the gave could be acceptable. He had to ensure that the body of the pesky bus driver was where his body would never see the light of day ever again. 

Matthew was a mile and a half out in the thick Acadian forest, where he shared a cabin with you. 

He kept digging so he could secure a future with you. It was imperative to him that you were never to know of the heinous acts that he carried out. He wanted nothing more than to protect you and the relationship he cherished with you. That couldn’t happen if that bus driver continued to harass you on the daily. You came home every day stressed out. It hurt his heart when you came home frustrated about his not-so-subtle comments about your appearance.  

Each night, you rambled on about how uncomfortable the interactions made you feel. Some days, you nearly broke down before him, but you quickly rushed to your room. You didn’t always feel comfortable constantly complaining to him. You hated burdening him this much since you knew he didn’t have a family that was incredibly attentive to him. 

Some of Matthews's tears touched the snow while others slid down into his comfy red flannel. It was difficult for him to reconcile his flurry of feelings he had for you. 

“Matthew! Matthew! Where are you?!” He heard your voice call out to him in the darkness. The light from your flashlight slowly approached him. 

His heart turned into a brick of ice. You couldn’t see! You couldn’t know! He halted in his activities in an attempt to avoid being caught. 

‘Oh, Y/N! Just go back home! I’m okay!’ The sound of your boots crunching on the fresh snow got closer. Matthew could see the light from your flashlight touch trees that were only a few feet away from him. 

‘No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. Go back Y/N! Go back!’ The fear of you leaving him gripped him intently. He’d have to harm you, possibly even prevent you from seeing the light of day. However, freeze mode kicked in, and he put his back against the large tree behind him. His grip on the shovel's handle tightened. He closed his eyes as he heard your voice from only three feet away. Matthew silently hoped that he and the body would turn invisible. 

“Matthew! Matthew! Sweetheart, it’s getting late! What are you doing out here? Aren’t you cold? Aren’t you hungry? I have maple-flavored hot chocolate and dinner ready at home!” Hoping to entice him to come home with you. 

You knew something was off when you saw the supply closet door was wide open & drops of red had been scattered in various places all over your home. You worried about him being injured from hunting or playing hockey. Either way, you were determined to find out. The large boot prints led you directly to him since you’d made it out in time before the snow began to cover up his tracks. You crouched down to Matthews's level as he cowered beneath the tree. Tears were streaming down his face as he held the shovel close to his chest. 

“Matthew! Thank god! There you are!” You tried to remove the shovel from his hands so you could give him a proper hug.

“No! Y/N NO!” He shouted in defense. 

“Mattie, honey…..” You swept aside some of his wavy blonde hair and stroked his freezing cheeks. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” 

“I….” He sniffed a few times before he continued. “I…” Choking on more tears. “If I …tell you… you won’t love me anymore!” Matthew began to bawl his eyes out as you took stock of the surrounding area. Your flashlight caught a glimpse of the lifeless body of that asshole bus driver. Relief took you over as you finally understood. 

So you began to laugh. 

Matthew was caught off guard by your positive reaction. His tears began to stop flowing. 

“You’re …you’re not angry?” 

“HA! HA! Hell no! You just got rid of a major nuisance to me hahaha!” Your shiny (eye color) orbs met with his reddened violet hues. You give him a reassuring peck on the forehead. 

“Come now! Let’s burn the body and spread the ashes in a lake.” 

Matthew is over the moon, knowing he doesn’t have to hide his dark side from you. You assist him in getting rid of the blood stains, trail, and all signs of struggle. You’d do anything for your teddy bear boyfriend's soon-to-be husband. 

England 

The fine China clinked satisfyingly as you set it out in its perfect places on the table. You were prepping for your late evening tea, which you and Arthur enjoyed doing together. You loved hearing about his day, what new book caught his fancy at the library or the bookstore. You were almost done prepping the various homemade jams. You looked over your shoulder to see how much more time was left before your cookies were done. It read 2:30. The mix of sweet shortbread & chocolate morsels mixing together was intoxicating. 

You were eager to see Arthur’s reaction to your perfected recipe. 

Your eyes wandered to the shed, where a light had been on for the last few hours. It shined brightly against the darkened grass. 

“Hmmm. I wonder what Arthur could be doing in there. Maybe he’s doing some more occult stuff.” You heard thunder begin to roll in from the distance. Just then, a bolt of lightning struck across the midnight blue sky. Tiny droplets of rain began to pelt the kitchen window. 

Finally, your beloved British man emerged from the shed. He looked a little more disheveled than usual. You wondered if he was actually able to summon a demon that he wasn’t capable of controlling. You heard his Oxfords climb the wooden steps that reached the backdoor. 

“Welcome back, Arthur dear~” As you said that, you heard him jump a little right as he rushed past the kitchen and into the laundry room. 

The timer had gone off. 

Your cookies were done. As you went to retrieve them, Arthur finally responded to you from the laundry room.

“Ah! Yes, hello, Y/N, love!” He is not doing a great job of hiding the nervousness in his voice. Concerned, you take off your oven mitts & follow the muddy tracks that you noticed have curious red spots within them. 

“Arthur, are you alright? Did you injure yourself, my love?” Anxiety pierced your heart, and you wondered if you needed to be prepared to rush him to the hospital. When you got to the laundry room, you saw Arthur hunched over the laundry basket. He’d already taken off his sweater that had blood tainting 65% of it, and He was just about to undo his button-up shirt, which wasn’t spared from being touched by the scarlet. 

“Y/N!” He jumped like a frightened cat that came face to face with an angry bulldog. 

“Arthur, what’s wrong, dear? Did you get hurt??!!” Worried and finally catching his bright green eyes. You scanned the rest of his clothing to see that blood you assumed had been splattered all over them. 

“No, I’m not hurt love..just….” He really didn't want to tell you the truth. His eyes hung down to the bright white tiles of the laundry room floor. 

You walked closer to him and took his pale, clammy face in your hand. You stroked his cheek gently to reassure him. You gingerly brought your hand to his chin and made your eyes connect sincerely. 

“Arthur, if it’s something serious…. You have to tell me. We’re lovers. We’re a team. That comes with unwavering trust.” The words that came from you made his heart flutter and sink at the same time like a lifevest being attached to a heavyweight. There was the fear that you would leave him and be afraid. Arthur knew he’d have to keep you quiet by reconditioning you and erasing your memories. Then came the comfort he no longer had to hide his far more morbid side. You loved him for him and all of him. 

“Arthur….” He could tell that you were becoming somewhat impatient. 

“Okay…okay..” He grabbed both of your hands to prevent you from running away & for emotional support. Arthur dragged in a deep breath before he blurted out: 

“I killed Dan! That stupid wanker who kept making passes at you! I hated how he always managed to put his phone number on the side of your coffee cup! I hate how he stalks your social media! And has the bloody fucking audacity to try and stalk you!” 

Your expression was unreadable for a moment until you let out a long sigh of repose. 

“If that’s really all, then you’ve just made my life a thousand times easier.” You peck him on his lips and tussle his wet hair. 

“I love you, Arthur, but we will have to…” You looked at the blood that was on your hand. “Make sure all the evidence is gone. I’ll draw you up a bath & mop up the floor.”

With that, you disappeared from his view, whistling a happy tune as you worked out some creative alibis in your mind.

[coco-sensei]

hey hi! Can you do yandere France x loving girlfailure reader. Like reader trys to do romantic things but ends up fucking it up somehow, and straight up questions why Francis is even into them but loves him nonetheless. Extra fluff plz. Thanks! ^o^

France x loving girlfailure fem!reader

Warnings: so sweet will give you cavities, suggestive if you get a microscope (NOT NSFW) fluff!

You and Francis have been together for about 2 years now

He's always been the romantic romantic one in the relationship

You really love your boyfriend and want to reciprocate those feeling

You wanted to be romantic to

So you had a reservation planned

Unfortunately when you both came to the restaurant

The man said you missed your reservation that was yesterday

You checked you email and sure enough you had a booked a reservation for the wrong date

(Rip the money 😔✊)

This time you refused to let another date go wrong.

So you decided to set up a romantic picnic date in there park

It was lovely you both where giggling

And as you were about to kiss

KABOOM

A thunderstorm…

You boy had to ditch everything to get home safely

That weather bit— man what wrong about the weather.

So you thought of an unstoppable date idea.

You thought why not just stay at your apartment

And have a small at home date

It's not much but it will do

You thought of what to watch while you two where together

You thought of ______ but then you thought Francis wouldn't be the type to watch that

So you decided to put on the cheesy romance movie

The movie wasn't supposed the be the main focus anyways

You decided to make him some French cuisine

He came while you wherein the middle of cooking

While you where chatting

For some unknown reason

The food had caught on fire

….

Yeah Francis had to put out the fire while you where panicking

After failing another date you seriously started to think maybe

You're the problem

Whenever Francis does dates

Nothing goes wrong

But when you do it you fuck up

Maybe it's bad luck!

YOUR bad luck

Maybe you don't really deserve Francis

But you really do love him

When you first met him you thought he'd never really like you

But he's been nothing but loving to you

You seriously start doubting yourself,

What the fuck does Francis even see in you

You don't go outside much

You've never had a boyfriend other than Francis

Because of that you do know how to be romantic

And when you try you always fail

You'd always been alone

You use to be the quiet kid at the back

You only ever had only a few friends…

And they were all your family members…

You're pretty much a loser

You have terrible social skills

You use to spend all your time day dreaming because you didn't have any friends at work

You only ever went outside to got to work or grocery shopping

You had no social life

Francis taste in woman can't be that bad to like you!

You where having the whole episode while kneeling down looking oven fire that Francis had put out

Francis looked at you and realised that you uhh

Where on the verge of tears

You felt hands gently lift you up

Your boyfriend had you in his hands bridal style

He kissed you gently

“i appreciate it Mon chéri ”

And he'll kiss you on the check really close to your mouth

He'd do the cooking now

It's ok if you're not as romantic as him

You love Francis and he knows that

More Random Hc

If you enjoy visual novels he'll watch you play from time to time

If it's a romance game

He'll be like

“I'm way better than does pixels on the screen”

And gets all jealous

Francis is not very good with computers

So if you're gaming he'll just watch

But if it's animal crossing I think he'd play with you time to time

If you're still playing those videos games

He'll show you things those pixels certainly can't do

😉😉😉

I think you'd both have a Paris theme island in animal crossing

What? He wants to feel at home

He'd probably kick out all the “ugly” villagers

If he sees you making an “ugly” room he'd be like

“Mon chéri what is this!?” and will destroy it somehow

If you're not the type to socialise he'd stay at home with you

If you're a weeb… he'll have to ask Kiku for help

Francis certainly isn't used to your life style but he'll try to adapt

Definitely tries to get you out more

He'd bring you along with he's friends and calls the girls over so you can have friends of your own

Overall

10/10 awesome bf experience

Hi! Sorry I got to you so late! I've got this wedding I have to attend that's far so I'm packing up.

Thanks so much for the request! I had so much fun writing this!

I kinda made this a One-shots/HC because I didn't know specifically what you wanted...

—Coco Rori 🎐🫧

[worldheadcanons]

☆ a brush with death!

requested by anon! gender neutral, death!reader. starring . . . england, france, & hungary. warning for violence in england’s part & suggestive material in france + hungary’s. fandom masterlist found here. 📌 . . . author notes: i imagine reader is the personification of death in a sort of grim reaper way; they escort certain souls to the land of the dead and catch any souls who happened to escape their fate. also, similarly to nanno from girl from nowhere or tomie, they’re kind of everywhere and nowhere. england’s section is admittedly not romantic but trust me i’m setting up something neat. i think i’ll expand on this concept more in the future, esp if ppl request more death!reader prompts.

arthur kirkland!

— you’ve seen each other many times. over and over and over since his conception as a nation. after the first couple of centuries you realized he was more than just a common face. this was the same person, each time. he was somehow cheating the system, staying alive for years longer than warranted. he was cheating you, death. it felt oddly personal. he had to go.

— it was only during the midst of the revolutionary war that you actually found yourself speaking with him. emotional reasoning led to him fighting alongside the rest of the red coats. he made a slip up, falling to the muddy ground of a foreign land. his company abandoned him and suddenly the end of your musket was in his face. “you’ve lived long enough,” you muttered, contempt filling your tone. then you pulled the trigger. problem solved.

— or… not, you realize years later. who knew you’d be seeing him again here of all places, in the trenches of the great war. he looks the exact same, more or less, save for a slight scar on his forehead. you’re almost sure the scar matches the spot where you first shot him. your eyebrows furrow as you make your way through the trench, stepping over bodies among other things. most of his fellow men were already dead from enemy fire or from your own fire. it had long since been determined that this whole infantry would fall; you were merely here to pick off any survivors of fate. “you,” you hiss.

— the disgust in your voice was all too familiar to him. “you,” he mimics, his face morphing into a similar sort of look. anger, hatred, surprise, and subtle curiosity. with no one living around, he dares to speak freely. “here to shoot me in the face again?”

— “precisely,” you reply, reaching for your rifle. you figured you could shoot him down now and find out how to actuallykill him later.

— before you can draw your gun, however, he’s already got his own pointed at your forehead. “i don’t think so, love.” he almost smirks, glad to have the upper hand for once.

— his advantage doesn’t last long, though, as you deliver a harsh kick to his legs. he stumbles, and in seconds you have him pinned on the ground with your boot on his sternum. you press down. “how’d you survive a blow to your head?”

— he wheezes out a sort of laugh. frustrated, you press further on his chest. this earns a gasp from him — “i can’t die by human means, though it does hurt when you,” he pauses a moment, gasping, “press on my chest — do you mind?”

— you lift your boot by an inch. your gaze is cold and calculating, boring into his eyes and maybe even through them, to his skull. “what are you then?”

— he hesitates at first. he knows he’s been bested, though. the smell of death and infection, trademarks of the trenches, fill his nostrils as he takes a deep breath. “i’m a country. i am literally england in all it’s glory.” he watches you take in the information. your eyebrows raise as you reappraise him. no wonder he was still alive. he was to england what you were to death; an embodiment of it. you, a concept and him, a country. “and what are you, if i may ask?”

— you stare at him a moment before aiming your rifle. country or not, you’ve got a job to do. if it wouldn’t kill him, he’d at least look dead for a while, which means no one would question why he was the only survivor among the rest of the troops. “i am death,” you murmur before pulling the trigger. he drops to the ground with a dull thud, like a deer. still, you’re sure you’ll be seeing him again. you almost look forward to seeing that angry expression of his again.

francis bonnefoy!

— “i take it you’re no stranger to fatal blows,” you murmur, running a gentle finger over the scar along his neck. you were in his bed after a one night stand (because even death likes to have fun from time to time). you’d both seen each other throughout time, sleeping together every now and then without truly understanding what the other was. you were.. immortals with benefits. something along those lines.

— francis just chuckles. “you could say i’ve flirted with death.” he shifts, brushing some blonde strands out of his face so he can admire you some more. the morning light shines through the window, illuminating his face and hair in a way that was.. heavenly.

— you smile. if only he knew. you’d decided long ago that out of all the flings and trysts you’d had over the years, he was one of your favorites. “mm. death seems to look kindly upon you, then. since you’ve survived so far, i mean.”

— “i’m supposing so, mon cheri*. i hope you look as kindly upon me as death does.”

— you don’t reply verbally, merely moving your body closer to his, almost touching. you’d seen and appreciated all of him from head to toe.. yet you still didn’t know what he was, how he managed to live for centuries just like you. you’re sure that the tension of not knowing is what led to you two continuously ending up in bed together. even so, every bubble has to pop eventually. silence, accompanied by mutual intrigue, briefly fills the room.

— “i have never managed to catch your name,” he muses softly. it’s only a moment or two more before he turns to face you completely, looking you over with relaxed but intensely curious eyes. “i know i’ve seen you before, mon coeur*. not just on the street. but in wars, in times of sickness. you’re like me, aren’t you?”

— “i am,” you murmur, looking into his violet eyes. “i know why i’m still roaming this earth. but what about you?”

— he leans in, starting to kiss the lobe of your ear down to your neck. his hands hold your waist, bringing you even closer. “i will admit to you, because you are so lovely, the obvious: i am immortal like you. well, immortal as long as the beautiful country of france continues to thrive. i am the embodiment of the mighty country, mon cheri. and you are?”

— you hum in consideration at his words. the mighty country of france… it was almost too fantastical to believe. if you weren’t equally fantastical, you likely wouldn’t have believed him. you resign to open up to him after some thought. he had shared his secret, so you might as well share yours. “i am… death.”

— he pauses his orchestrations, pulling back so he can look you in the eye. in the same way you considered his words, he ponders over yours. how such a beautiful creature could be in charge of the deceased is beyond him. you were death. you were tragedy. your existence alone fascinates him... finally, his lips curl into a small smile. “give me your kiss of death then, mon cheri. i promise i’m not scared.”

elizabeta héderváry!

— you’re not entirely sure how you got into this situation, holding onto her waist, riding with her across the hungarian landscape. the air was crisp today, though not so cold as to hurt your nose when the winds blew by you. you were supposed to have killed her today and yet…

— you’ve known elizabeta for many years. you’ve seen her over and over… she even admitted to you that she’s a country, many years ago. still, you’ve given little to her other than the occasional night of attention and affection. you’ve managed to keep her close to your heart while holding her far away from your true purpose. perhaps she coaxed you into this horse ride to find answers.

— eventually, she speaks up against the trotting of her black mare. “you’ll be leaving me again, soon, won’t you?”

— you tongue darts out to wet your lips. it’s a nervous habit that you yourself never could understand. what does death have to be nervous about? “it’s likely.”

— “szívem*, you don’t tell me anything about you.” her tone is sad, almost. héderváry faces forward, holding the reigns tight. “i want to know you.”

— “you do know me, elizabeta,” you begin, only to be cut off.

— “i know your body. i know how much you like me on top, making you scream —“ you pinch her sides gently, which causes her to laugh. “fine. you know what i mean. but i don’t know you. i want to know you. what you are, who you are. you know who i am. if you just stayed with me….”

— a small scoff leaves your lips. “i can’t stay.”

— her head turns so she can glare at you. her eyebrows are furrowed, her lips fixed into a frown. she gets that annoyed glint in her eye, the one you wish wasn’t so attractive. “why not? we’ve done this dance for decades, i swear!”

— “control your horse, elizabeta.” your voice is calm, a stark contrast to her own. the brunette woman huffs but regains control of the mare carrying you both. héderváry pets her horse a few times over and things go quiet, save for the steady sounds of careful trotting. the silence offers you time to think. she’s right, really. decades have passed and you still haven’t opened up to her…

— you lean closer to her. she’s warm, comforting. always has been, really. beautiful in and out of her gear. she’s home, if you could ever have one. hesitantly, you begin to speak to her from over her shoulder. “what you are to hungary, i am to death, elizabeta. i embody it. and when people happen to ignore what fate has in store for them…. i handle it. it’s why i leave often.”

— she processes your words in full before mumbling, “oh.” her horse’s speed slows as héderváry thinks. “i’ve been courting death, then.” it’s hard to tell exactly how she feels about it, at first. “well,” she says, taking a deep breath, “you’re still my édesem*. and you’re staying with me. at least for dinner. no buts.” ah, that was more like her.

— you snuggled into her shoulder, kissing her neck. it felt good to share yourself with her. “i’ll stay, then.” you could go back to reaping souls tomorrow.

☆ TRANSLATIONS. — *”mon cheri” means my sweetheart or my darling. i used the masculine form because that’s more gender neutral.

— *”mon coeur” means my heart.

— *”szívem” should translate to my darling or darling.

— *”édesem” should translate to sweetheart or honey.

[apple---cider---vinegar]

Francis and hairties

Au contraire to popular belief, Francis was a laid-back person; preferring to spend his days cooking warm, hearty stews and meals, or, on other days, reading.

It was soothing.

He was soothing.

He calls for you from the kitchen and you're only too happy to check in on him.

"Darling, i need a hair tie"

"Got it"

It was a rare thing for Francis to forget to tie his hair back but now that he had, you stand on your toes to reach up and tie it back.

"Thank you, sweet one"

[midnightlee25]

Random Yandere Headcanons: Having a virgin darling (France/Francis Bonnefoy)

He is over the moon about having the honor of being their first with anything let alone being their first in the bedroom.

He will make sure everything is perfect while also making sure they have the best time they have ever had.

He does go over the top with it however it does turn into a very sweet moment with just him and his darling. (Even if it’s the last thing he does.)

After the deed is done, his darling won’t have to worry about a single thing since he will have anything they could need already set up.

This will be another sweet step into solidifying their bond, linking them together forever.

[siren-serenity]

the ways i say "i love you" 🌈

characters: francis bonnefoy (france), gn!reader warnings: fluff, romance a/n: - bro i love francis so much, you have no idea (i think i have a thing for french ppl cough cough francis cough cough rook hunt) - some scenes might be a bit suggestive so you have been warned! - the reader is taking up a more 'dom' role in the relationship while francis takes the 'sub' role - feedback is appreciated!

cooking for you after a tiring day at work

francis bonnefoy's eyes brighten as he hears the door unlock and familiar footsteps echoing in the house. he continues to stir the food in the pan, smiling to himself as he hears the satisfying hisses from the searing heat. the appetizing smell of dinner wafts in the air and an appreciative groan escapes your lips as you turn a curve and spy your lovely boyfriend merrily cooking. you lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms. he turns around and you stifle a laugh at his choice of the apron. "kiss the cook," it reads and you hum before slipping an arm around his waist before pulling him close. your lips land on his and francis lets out a stifled moan. your tongue slips out to lick the bottom part of his lips and francis doesn't even resist before opening his mouth and your lips curve into a smirk as you do so. the beeping of the oven interrupts your lovely make-out session and you let out a groan of despair. francis stifles a laugh as he brings out the steaming hot dishes from the oven and sets the table. you follow his lead, making sure that you helped your lover because it would simply be rude to let him do everything. you watched from the corner of your eyes as he flicked off the switches professionally and poured the sauce into bowls. everything he did was efficient and quick - something you admired about him. "bon appetit, ma cherie," he murmurs before pressing a quick kiss to your lips and sitting next to you on the table. his thigh brushes against yours teasingly as you lift a spoonful of his cooking into your mouth - letting out a moan. "delicious," you hum before eating it even more. francis's deep blue eyes shine at your compliment. you smirk as you say your next words, humming after another spoonful. "and i'm not just talking about the cooking, my love." francis almost chokes and you quickly bring him a glass of water in a hurry.

arranging a bouquet for you (featuring his best friend Angleterre)

"oh for tea's sake," arthur eyes francis as the frenchman pulls him into the flower shop. almost immediately, the pollen scent and vibrant colors assault him and arthur had to blink a couple of times before watching as he almost lost francis in the flowershop. "oh for god's sake- francis, wait! y/n's is going to kil me if i lose you!" francis only let out a cheeky laugh before diving between the rows of flowers, taking a couple of scents to admire their freshness before moving on. "a camellia because it was destiny that brought us together; forget-me-nots for eternal memories; belleflower for gratitude; primroses for youthful love; gloxinias for love at first sight," francis murmurs to himself as he gathers flowers in his arms. in a way, it reminds him of a bride choosing the flowers for their bridal bouquet and francis couldn't help the wistful dreams popping in his mind. "honeysuckles for domestic happiness and devoted affection; roses for passionate love..." "there you are!" arthur cries out, grabbing onto francis's signature purple cloak and tugging him to the counter. he didn't even have a proper look at the bouquet yet; after centuries of knowing the blond, arthur knows ten minutes is more than enough for the frenchman to gather a lively bouquet. finally, they made it to the counter and francis sets down his bouquet before bringing out his wallet. "that looks like a very...unique bouquet," arthur comments, eyeing the bouquet. it doesn't look like a normal bouquet at all; it has a diversity of flowers ranging from francis's fleur-de-lis to roses. francis only laughs in delight after grabbing his bouquet from the worker. he hugs it to his chest and takes a deep breath, smiling at the scent of the flowers. "isn't it, mon ami? i'm sure y/n will love it!" as francis continues to ramble about the meanings of the flowers he had chosen, arthur couldn't help the bittersweet smile grow on his face from his friend's happiness. although he may squabble and fight with francis, the frenchman was one of his closest friends. and to see him so happy gave arthur hope for his future too. "come on, you tea-obsessed jerk! y/n is waiting for me!" "why you- get here, frog!"

waking you up gently (and failing most of the time)

"mhmm, y/n," francis shakes you awake but you simply groan and lift the blankets over you. he fondly rolls his eyes and straddles your waist. he leans in and his blond locks fall from behind his ears to tickle your chin. suddenly, a mischievous idea brews in his mind. francis shakes his head, giggling as his blond hair sway from side to side and tickles your cheeks. "francis," you groan and an arm slithers around francis's waist to pull him closer. one blink later and francis finds himself being spooned by you, surrounded by your addictive scent and heat. your arms circling around his waist, pulling him closer. "sleep, mon ange." his heart flutters at your use of his language; he could never get enough of that. he shuffles around, facing you and his hand comes up to brush the hair out of your eyes. "you need to wake up," he murmurs and you just slowly blink. "don't you have work?" you let out a frustrated groan before tugging him closer. francis let out a tiny squeak as you sit up, pulling him into your lap. his legs instinctively wrap around your waist; he was sitting on your lap and his face was dangerously close to yours. you leaned in, pressing kisses to his collarbone, where his overlarge shirt had slipped. francis clenched his eyes as he resists the urge to kiss you. he had to be logical-......and his heart almost stopped when you used your hand to tilt his chin so his deep blue eyes met yours. you gave him a lazy smirk. "i'm the ceo; i think i can afford to skip a day off work." "b-but..." "you can tell me to stop," you murmur in between kisses. francis only groans and thumps his head against yours, revealing that he, in fact, has no intentions of making you stop. his grip on your biceps tighten. "give me a couple of seconds to call ludwig," he mutters before groaning when your lips kiss the sensitive part of his neck. "i'll only give you five," your hands trailed down his body before reluctantly letting francis go so he could call. the last thing francis heard before leaving the room was your husky voice. "after that, i don't think i can hold back."