#hws francis x reader

[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"

[generational-atrophy]

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

hetalia main 8 (+ canada & prussia) affection hcs

2.0k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: mention of suggestive themes, mention of alcohol

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

America

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

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

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

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

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

England

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

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

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

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

France

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

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

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

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

China

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

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

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

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

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

Russia

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

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

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

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

Canada

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

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

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

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

Italy

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

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

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

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

Germany

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

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

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

Japan

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

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

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

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

Romano

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

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

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

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

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

Prussia

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

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

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

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

[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.

[worldheadcanons]

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

☆ the allies: confessing to their crush!

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

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

arthur kirkland!

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

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

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

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

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

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

alfred f. jones!

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

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

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

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

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

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

francis bonnefoy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yao wang!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ivan braginsky!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[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.

[hailed-storms]

✿ The ballroom dance.

Introducing!..FRANCIS BONNEFOY!

Romantic setting with Gender neutral reader.

(A/N: I LOVE FRANCE SSOO MUChHEH . idk if this is OOC or not so if it is please tell me if it is :3 also I don't know how to slow dance or how to dance in general so idk how to describe dancing)

Francis' eyes scanned the ballroom as he held his wineglass in between his ring and middle finger. The reason he was there was that he was waiting for his spouse to arrive, as they were late to come in. A few women came up to him in the meantime, but he just pardoned himself as he waited. A few minutes later, he looked at the entrance and saw a figure appear in the entryway as they tried to subtly find him. He walked up to you and greeted you politely.

"Bonsoir Mon cher. It's nice to finally see you here."

Francis said as he placed his hand firmly on your shoulder and gave you a charming smile. Smiling back sheepishly, you apologise sincerely for coming in late and not being able to spend much time with him here.

"Ah, it's all fine."

He told you calmly. France was a patient person who understood you had other matters to attend to before this happened. He looked to the side and noticed that the other couples were slow dancing together. An idea popped into France's head as he looked back at you with a loving smile.

"Voulez-vous danser avec moi ?"

He asked you while he placed his wine glass down and moved his hand to hold yours, intertwining them together. You agreed and went on the dance floor.

While there, he places his hand just below your arm, holding you closely, while his other hand extends out as you both sway and move backwards while dancing to the music together, sometimes giving you a small kiss here and there. You both spin to the music slowly, with Francis giving you a small spin before dipping you down and giving you a passionate kiss. Your hands are still intertwined, but they get a bit tighter before he slowly pulls back with a smile on both of your faces as a bit of blush appears on his face and possibly even yours. As the night goes on, you both enjoy it thoroughly, taking in every moment that passes by with your husband, Francis Bonnefoy..

AHH THIS TURNED OUT PRETTY GOOD IN MY OPINION I LOVE FRANCE SO FUCKING MJCH MY GOD JSJDJFJW

[imaginethebeautifulworld]

How about a fic where- imagine this- it is evening, around 7pm, you return from your busy work and see Arthur lounged in the living room recliner, doing his embroidery(I HATE YOU FROG FAC- he's not reached the 'E' quite yet ;) ) You huffed as you slumped down on the sofa beside him as he gazes up at you. He looks at you in a weird sort of way, not the loving one he usually gives you. And says....- Now that's for you to fill, my dear author ;)

This took an eternity my dear; thank you for your patience with me. ❤

It had been a long, long day.

Your shift, usually over by 4 pm at the latest, had been extended by two-and-a-half hours, your replacement having an emergency that couldn't be delayed.

You didn't mind too much; it would be a nice paycheck come Friday, and you knew she would have done the same for you.

But now it was nearing 7, and the effects from the single bag of crisps and the apple slices that had served as your lunch were finally worn off, your stomach clenching painfully in hunger.

Your feet were aching, not used to such a long shift on such unsupportive flooring.

The whole commute home, you could think of nothing save your leftovers in the fridge, how amazing it was going to be to finally kick off your shoes, how much a relief it was that tomorrow was your day off.

You found Arthur sprawled across the recliner, legs kicked over one of the arms, body pivoted to sit properly otherwise. You smiled at his intensive needlework, taking a moment to appreciate just how quickly he moved through embroidery.

Shuffling towards the couch and balancing your drink and piles of food items, you awkwardly bent for the TV remote and finally collapsed into the sofa with an exhausted huff.

Arthur paused his movements- giving you a chance to see a very detailed floral border and flowing script cursing out Francis- and turned to you with an odd expression.

Offering your confusion out of reflex, you studied him curiously. "Iggy?"

"Did you know that there's a whole genre of music in Star Wars called jizz?"

You felt a small laugh escape you, one which quickly fell away. Arthur was full of it sometimes, but he had spoken with such annoyance that you couldn't help but ask for clarification. "I'm sorry- What?"

"Star Wars has a whole genre of music called jizz. Francis told me earlier today, said he saw it on the 'net. I thought the bastard was just trying to bullshit me, but when I went to check-"

Nevermind trying to process the information he had just told you- which you were sure had already led him down a rabbit hole you wanted little to do with- you offered him a small, knowing grin. "At least you have a valid reason for your arts and crafts this time," you teased.

He offered a playful smile, rolling over to hover over you. "I have a valid reason for everything I do, my love."

You gave his cheek a light pat before letting your eyes shut with a hum. "Keep telling yourself that, dear."

[generational-atrophy]

hetalia axis & allies (+ canada) xmas headcanons

1.6k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: uhhh christmas obviously. mention of religion and underwear?? uh... i think that's it

a/n: this is my first christmas as a jewish convert so that's been weird. anyway I just wanted something quick, so its mostly a list of gift ideas (:

America

Alfred is SUCH a huge Christmas fan. I mean, canonically he dresses up as Santa, so he goes all out for the entire month of December. He's been working on a huge holiday home display for decades, and it shows.

He plays Santa at his local mall during the weeks leading up to Christmas; and on the night of, he hands out hot cocoa outside his house. It's fun, but it also means he's a little distracted when it comes to you.

What he would get you: Posters of your favourite movies, super comfy pyjamas, expensive figures of characters you like, candy you like but never get for yourself, model planes or Legos for you two to build together, novelty pens, a stupid cowboy costume so you can match <3, those handmade coupons because he 1. Loves you and 2. Forgot about Christmas until yesterday

What he would want: Any video games, Funko Pops, vinyls of music he likes, those big packs of shirts (he is constantly running out of shirts because he rips or irreparably stains them,) Marvel comics, anything with an eagle on it, those mini wacky waving inflatable tube men things, bulk pens and pencils because he also breaks those constantly-

England

Arthur is not big into Christmas and never has been. He'll celebrate with you, but he's not going out when it comes to any aspect. If anything, he finds it a little exhausting getting gifts for everyone

But, he does adore walking around and looking at all the lights. He'll do that a couple times with you in December.

What he would get you: Any novel you’ve mentioned even once, tickets to a concert both of you will enjoy, classy jackets that fit you perfectly, cute keychains, fancy art supplies, fragrances that remind him of you, bags/purses that fit your style, CDs

What he would want: Sewing supplies (thread, new needles, new fabric scissors,) framed photos of the two of you, Doctor Who merch, foreign tea, a book on how to take care of your eyebrows properly (he will not learn otherwise,) slippers, those sarcastic magnets that all millennial women have at least one of, any ridiculous piece of merch with the union jack on it

France

Francis has very mixed feelings about Christmas. On one hand, he hates how consumerist it has become, but on the other hand, nothing makes him happier than seeing the joy the season brings to others.

Plus, he does enjoy giving and receiving presents. The music too? Wonderful. As long as you don't get too stressed out, the holiday should be perfect.

What he would get you: Tons of clothes; stuff that's already your style, and completely new stuff, room decorations (NOT posters,) a reservation at a nice restaurant, bracelets that he made for you, makeup (if you like that kind of thing,) candles that smell like his cologne, CHEESE

What he would want: Fancy fabric, any clothes (he doesn’t care what they are as long as you think they’d look good on him…) paintings or photography, literally ANYTHING creative you’ve made, hair ties (he loses at least 5 a day,) bird stuffed animals, (Basically anything! Francis is not picky)

China

Christmas is a new occurrence for Yao, and he isn't the biggest fan. He'll buy you stuff for it, but he would do that normally. The lights and the music aren't anything special to him either. Basically, he won't celebrate unless you want to.

What he would get you: Elaborate, very expensive jewellery, huge stuff like a car, Chinese cookbooks, traditional clothes that he made specifically to represent you (: luxury handbags (that he got at SUCH a good discount,) tons of weird off-brand merch of your favourite show, probably a nice meal too!

What he would want: Yao is hard to buy for. Soft robes, stuff to help with back pain, face masks, Hello Kitty keychains… reading glasses maybe?

Russia

Although he isn't as excited about Christmas as he is about the New Year, he still loves the holiday. It's a nice excuse to see family, and everyone is just so happy around the season! He's especially excited to celebrate it with you.

He's not the best at giving gifts, but he could be worse. Regardless of whether you like all of it, you're gonna get a lot of stuff.

(Also, he plays Santa for the kids sometimes. It's so cute-)

What he would get you: Random knick-knacks he probably found at a local market, knitted hats and gloves in your favourite colour, a scarf to match his, tickets to go somewhere warm on vacation, stuffed animals! books that made him think of you (usually philosophical or religious novels,) pretty rocks (:

What he would want: SUNFLOWERS! (This works for every occasion,) baked goods, clothes that aren’t 250 years old- new doilies and paintings to decorate his house, pictures of yourself, friendship bracelets, stuffed animals, if you can make a scarf somehow, DO THAT

North Italy

Feliciano cares about Christmas in a more religious way, but he's never mad about getting presents. So, he'll probably spend most of the day in church, but he still did put a lot of effort into getting you stuff you love.

What he would get you: Pajamas & bath robes, shitty romance novels that he wants you to read, weird hand-made knick-knacks, makeup, strange mugs that he found at a thrift store, a painting of you (: probably a pair of his boxers-

What he would want: New paint brushes, novelty pasta shapes, fancy jackets, any art that you’ve made (regardless of quality,) cat stuffed animals, The Ability To Get A Grip, skincare products, shiny garbage (For art purposes, duh,) those handmade coupon things

Germany

Ludwig does not enjoy Christmas particularly. He's terrible at giving gifts but he wants to so desperately that he spends all of winter stressing out about it. Yes, he's excited to see your reaction to his gifts, but at what cost?!

Although he does still like all the decorations at least. Maybe he just likes re-decorating though.

What he would get you: Puzzles you can complete together, soft sweaters, practical stuff you need (like book bags, lens cloths, that kind of thing,) stationery, reservations for private tours at museums you would find interesting, a subscription to whatever silly service you want (:

What he would want: Books about city planning, nerdy card games, a fun lanyard, a new coffee machine, those aroma-therapy diffuser things, household tools like vacuums and stuff (Get him an air fryer. He’s going to be fascinated.) stress balls, pens (He is boring.)

Japan

Kiku really has no particular feelings towards Christmas. If you weren't there, the most he would do was put up a mini tree. He's stressed out by both giving and receiving presents and is only willing to do that kind of thing if you want to.

What he would get you: Electronics, merch of your favourite Sanrio character, books that he thinks you’ll like, stickers, a bento box, comfy sweatpants, cute hairpins, plushies from your favourite media, a bunch of pillows, some obscure Japanese snacks too!

What he would want: Miku figures, posters, video games, manga, general nerdy stuff, history novels (he likes to correct them,) blackout curtains, cute face masks, a Polaroid camera, a guide on socialization (Seriously.) a knit scarf, if you can knit (:

South Italy

Romano desperately wants to care about Jesus more than getting gifts. He's a devout catholic, g*ddamnit! But... he does just really love eating baked goods and getting gifts more than anything. Getting together with family, the music, the lights, he just ADORES the holiday.

What he would get you: Blankets and pillows, your favourite snacks, clothes that are a little more revealing- cruise tickets (if going on wouldn’t be hell for you,) a journal where he wrote down all of the things he loves about you (completely honestly,) religious items, fancy perfumes

What he would want: Paintings from local artists, post-its (so he can finally remember SOMETHING,) anything with the Italian flag on it, stupid bumper stickers, pictures of the other nations that you’ve written insults on, fancy patterned scarves and fabric

Prussia

Like Alfred, Gilbert loves Christmas in a very childish way. He embraces that side of himself during the holidays and he'd love it if you joined him in that. He constantly insists on going out to see the lights, and he just can't get enough of Christmas movies. Even the bad ones (He's a Hallmark girlie.)

What he would get you: A vintage music box, hair dye, DVDs of your favourite movies (just to have,) stationery, random snacks he picked up from a gas station an hour ago, weirdly sentimental jewellery? Vintage journals, pictures of himself

What he would want: Coupons (???) goofy temporary tattoos, metal CDs, tea (he’s weirdly embarrassed about liking tea and doesn’t buy it for himself?) vintage maps that he can frame and hang up, probably like, WD40? DC comics, novelty trophies, Pokemon cards, video games

Canada

More than anything, Matthew loves winter. So, therefore, he loves Christmas! Seeing you smile when you open your gifts, he looks forward to it all season. It seems like the only time of year when everyone else is either as miserable or as happy as he is, so it's his favourite holiday.

Cuddling up in front of the fireplace with hot cocoa, watching some old Christmas movie, its all he wants.

What he would get you: Comfy hoodies, comfy slippers too, hot cocoa packs, big stuff like a new PC or fridge or smth- decorations for your room, face masks, fidget toys, novelty Canadian keychains, figures of your favourite characters, festive sweets (like candy-canes and stuff.)

What he would want: Anything with a maple leaf (yes, he wants MORE of that,) boring stuff like socks, wood-working tools or like a new snow shovel, fairy lights, DVDs (because he still uses them? Why.) a new phone case, gift cards (HES BORING,) pre-packaged crafts, lotion and cologne that smells like pine

merry christmas if you celebrate! this'll probably be the last full thing I post until 2024, so thanks to all you readers for sticking around this year (: you have no idea how much it means to me. i love yall. and to all a good night or whatever santa said

[fizzycherrycola]

France will be the most loving, attentive partner you’ve ever had....

He’ll bring you roses whenever you’re weary. When you go out for dinner, he’ll buy the finest wine, unless you don’t drink. In which case, he’ll order you the finest dessert. If you enjoy shopping, he will tag along with enthusiasm, helping you pick outfits to look as chic as possible. But if you prefer to go elsewhere, he’ll take your hand and whisk you off to the rowdy world of immortal nations and you’ll share their lively company. His love language is whatever is best for you. Gifts on a normal Tuesday. Grand proclamations of his devotion. Quiet words in the dark. A weekend spent together. A gentle caress. Slow or fast, tender or wild, as long as he’s with you nothing else matters. You are his love, the most important thing in his life. He’s not without his quirks, of course. Always cooking fantastic dishes for you to try, insisting that Sundays are meant for sleeping in, a strong believer in social causes, and whining (occasionally) about the stress of paperwork somehow ruining his complexion. You know that’s ridiculous because he’s always gorgeous, even when he’s tired and disheveled. And if you tell him this, an affectionate smile will burst across his face. As your hair greys, he’ll say it reminds him of starlight. As your skin wrinkles, he’ll tell you that you’ve never looked better. He will stay at your bedside when your arms are frail and your eyesight fades, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. And when you’ve gone from this world, he will wish you had more time together because a lifetime wasn’t nearly enough.

[yawujin]

france with an s/o who's super imaginative and artistic!! always has their head in the clouds, hopeless romantic, etc etc... if you please... alsdkjfasf...

idk why i didn't realize it this whole time i've been in the fandom but , france is hot....would.

request | france x an artistic S/O

type | romantic , light hearted , short read , fluff , gender neutral reader

oh how this man appreciates his love

he spends most of his afternoons admiring his sweetheart's finished art projects , complimenting them endlessly on their creativity

he offers to take them wine painting, seeing how artsy they get when they're left with a blank canvas

he often likes to let his S/O plan their dates, and then he makes them happen

france gives them pressed flowers instead of just bouquets because he knows they could make use of them in a collage

he couldn't have found a better partner , who is just as lovey dovey as he is 💘

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Mating Season AU: France 🇫🇷

Warning :🌶️ Spicy Content

He was strumming his medium-length manicured fingernails on his glass table. His smile was wide, and his thin tail whipped back and forth impatiently. He waited for the nighttime to fully show off the pink moon's glow. He would be at full power, and your body would begin to inch up to pink horniness. He glided over to his mirror that was installed in front of one of his cozy chairs so that he could be fully submerged in the enchanting view.

Francis had been planning this day like a well-crafted battle plan. He’d stalked you for a full year from a distance writing down all the things you adored, hated, or felt neutral about. He adored you and he wanted his first time with you to be something manifique! He’d set up the best lingerie in (fav color) that would complement your gorgeous skin. He’d also been refraining from relieving himself for a whole 365 days, so his urges were strong, and his relief could be felt from the highest heights of heaven. His cock was in serious pain as it was large and abundant with his seed. His bright blues glazed over to the clock only about five more minutes before his fun could begin.

You’d been at home relaxing after a long stressful day. Yet for whatever reason, your sixth sense of being watched was heightened tonight. You didn’t understand why seeing a glowing bright scarlet rose that twinkled brightly against the indigo sky caught your (eye color) eyes in a deep trance that somewhat put you at ease. There was a crisp gust of fresh spring air that whooshed past you. It felt as if a storm was brewing on the horizon. You suddenly felt something brush against your back and butt. When you turned around to confront the present that brushed up against you, there was nothing out of the ordinary to greet your sight. It was strange, but you let the thought go. It would be insane for you to dwell on something that couldn’t be sustained. But over the year, you thought over how this heightened fear of being watched or hunted rather. It would last for a few moments and sometimes even minutes….but this feeling of dread and a sudden onset of desire to be in one's arm was only getting stronger. It was like a pair of eyes was stuck to your body like glue and made you feel particularly vulnerable. As you watched the last of the sunlight fade and the pale pastel pink moon become more prominent in your view…your body began to feel extremely heavy, like being tied down with cinderblocks and being prodded with rose thorns. You also began to feel heat pool between your thighs.

‘Why?’ ‘What?’ Were the only thoughts that came to your mind. As the world around you became hazy and your vision began to fill with glittery pink smoke, the clouded your vision. You felt inebriated. You felt high. It was pure ecstasy.

You suddenly felt large but somewhat gentle hands run over your only slightly covered chest, which was beginning to swell with milk. You felt a woosh of hot air reach your neck before you felt a nibbling sensation in your left ear. A husky French voice whispered eagerly to you. It sent a shocking shiver down your spine. It hardly registered to you that a velvet (favorite color) teddy lingerie was over your body and straining the fabric hardly containing your coconuts.

“Hello, Mon Chere~” A few pointed kisses nailed at your collarbone began to disarm your senses more, dulling your initial shock from being pulled into a completely different realm altogether.

“Who are you? And why?” His hand had grasped your boob that continued to fill. You let out a loud moan that was like music to his ears. His cock was fully perked up and grinding on the back of your thigh.

‘How exciting! The execution of my plan was flawless! Y/N is hardly aware of what's happening to her!’

A hungry. ‘Hon. Hon. Hon.’ reaches your ear as the grinding becomes more aggressive.

“It’s nice that you’re finally in my arms, Y/N! Your soft body is like that of, fresh Tartiflette and you smell divine.” He places his nose in the crook of your neck and takes a deep inhale. “I’m going to be devouring you tonight so that we can create a marvelous family tree! Our children will be so beautiful!” He felt himself stiffen some more and his hands gripped your thighs from behind, making sure that they were as far apart as possible.

“Ah! No wait …please” It didn’t come out as loudly or as strongly as you liked. Your vision was still clouded and you could feel the heat radiate off of a toned body that was just beneath you. You felt a claw-like hand scrape across your butt and move your lingerie with one swift move. He began to finger you while his other hand stayed busy as he massaged your swollen tits.

“You can feel free to sing my name to all of the demon kingdoms and to the heavens let everyone know!” As his finger toyed with your neither region and began to prepare you for a much larger size. His lips began to pepper your skin with kisses which did make your heart flutter but your mind feel confused. Where you having some lucid daydream that felt entirely real?

‘Nigh..ugh..I..’

“I what Y/N? Going to start singing my name? Which is Francis by the way.” Taking a break from kissing before he started his campaign to give you a few hickeys. He really wanted to leave his mark on his beautiful canvas. He started on your lower left collarbone and at first kissed your skin then progressively started to lick and nibble on your soft skin. The he bore his sharpened canines and sunk it in to make a mark and to make you bleed.

You let out a loud shriek in pain and your vision suddenly became crystal clear and you were able to see that you were no longer in your apartment alone you were in a large bedroom that was decored with tons of black lace.

“Oh Mon Chere, you have a nice scream. ” France sweetly teases. “And my name is Francis by the way.”

You felt like this was far more weird than some weird lucid dream. You wiggle free from his grip even though you were still in a pretty dazed state. But you wanted to fight back. You had to get out of this crazy dream. Although you didn’t want to admit the sudden emptiness between your legs desired more. You also hadn’t realized the small scratches from France’s sharp rose branches drew blood but also were the entry points for his love drugs.

“Oh my sweet Y/N, that was only the beginning.” He licked his lips eagerly. He was eager to get on top of you so he could fill your entire being. He was hardly registering anything that you were saying France had fully reached the height of his hunger, and it needed to be satiated.

When your eyes collided with the once pure cyan but transformed into scarlet eyes that burned with desire. Nothing could save you now. He snapped his fingers and rose thorns had pinned you to the bed with your arms above your head and your legs spread wide. The fantasy of you enjoying all of this is playing out like a live theatre show in Francis's mind.

“An actual demon!” You quiver out. Your body trembled and you weren’t entirely sure if it was out of pleasure or fear. You felt your thighs burn and felt Francis's body hair rub up against yours, only making your desire skyrocket. You squirmed a little but to no avail the thorns sunk deep within your skin, leaving further evidence that this was far more real than you’d like. And it would be only one of the many marks that prove that he’s claimed you.

Francis leaned down to plan a kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t be scared, C’here. I’ll be rough only for the first hour or so. I can control myself….kind of.” That last part was reassuring…..

You only felt your body break out in a cold sweat, and you felt the lingerie that tried to cover you was now gone. Your bare body is all for him to see.

“I want to be passionate with you. Not harm you but, I’ve been holding back….” You felt his hands grip your behind firmly, and your hips gladly bucked up to reach the tip of his dick. Francis had to bite the bottom of his lip for a moment as he was excited and wanted to savor this moment for his long-term memory: Your dazed loving sight, vulnerable and ready to devour. His cock teased you a little as it went up and down your wet vagina. You let out an audible squeak that sounded mostly excited but still confused.

‘It’s possible I’m hallucinating somehow.’ Still in denial of the situation that is unfolding.

Francis's sudden first trust within you was a shocking surprise. His girth was large and his earlier strokes did nothing to prepare you for his size. While he lets himself pulsate in your walls, he takes a moment to help you get a better grasp of the situation.

“No, you're not hallucinating, my love. I’ve chosen you to be my mate so you can bear my children.” He lets out a low moan and grunts as he continues to hold himself back from pumping into you just yet. The hairs all over his body stood and and felt electrifying. It swept over your glossy skin making the urges you felt within you worse and caused all of your body to begin to heat up with tension as you began to feel your heartbeat faster. He leaned his head down to grace your forehead with more kisses as he gently whispered your name and began saying sweet nothings in French. The brush of his stubble touched your skin tanatilizingly and you meweled under him as he moved his member moved inside of you slowing adding to the needy heat and pressure within you.

“Oh honey, you don’t have to hold back I know you want to moan loudy~” As if on cue you do so.

“Ahhhhh~” It was weak but filled with pained lust. Francis had gripped your hips tighter and forced himself deeper into your scorching core. You hear him chuckle as he thrust into you once with the force of a jack hammer.

“Ah!” The sharp reactionary scream rings to his ears and makes him about to lose the last few threads over himself. He began to kiss you to the bridge of your nose, to the tip of it and takes over your lips in an elongated kiss that drew all of your breath and strength from within you. His lips moulded with yours like wet clay being shaped to his perfect fantasy.

“Y/N. Y/N……….” He sings out to you as he takes one more chance to give you yet another hickey on your collarbone. His speed is beginning to pick up progressively and your overstimulated by all of the sensations that not only leave you on cloud nine but also confused about the state of where you are and what your life is now supposed to look like.

Francis tail wraps around your stomach and clenches it tightly. Francis hands move from your breasts that swelled to the size of ripe pumpkins down to your sweaty thighs and gripped them tightly. He was beginning to reach his climax.

“Say my name C’here!” He calls out to you desperately.

Your mind dispells some of the fog and you’re able to recognize that who you’re making love to isn’t someone that is fully human. But you wanted to be able to preserve yourself and not die. All you could do was let out a low pleasured grunt and try to remember his name. What was it again?

He thrusted into you harshly and you let out a squeak. It jogged your memory through the thick sweet haze that was continuing to cloud your mind.

“Ance!” is what you squeeked out in reaction. He thusted hardly once more to help you with your brain fog. He continued until you were able to shout his name to the heavens.

“FRANCIS!” You yelled out it was like a symphony to his ears and Francis was high off the moment of being able to climax he released his hot seed within you and it spilled out onto the onyx duvet. He rode out the rest of his orgasim and pulled out his shrunken flaccid cock as he smothered himself with your heavy clevage. You whimper as your were still highly sensitive to touch due to your sexually heightned state.

“Oh, Y/N. I love you and I’m glad that you’re going to be my Queen.”

⭐️📖😊⭐️Thanks for reading ya‘ll ⭐️😊📖⭐️

[worldheadcanons]

☆ stalker au: them calling you!

starring. . . gender neutral reader and america, england, france, + canada. warning for stalking (in general), minor descriptions of manipulation, and mentions of nsfw in every part except (loser) england’s.

author notes; silly weird idea of mine. i sort of want to make this into a full fledged au and include other characters and maybe develop a plot but i’m not sure.. let me know what you think and any thoughts or ideas you have! matthew’s part is the freakiest because i think the quiet ones are the weirdest.

alfred f. jones!

— he calls often because he just loves your voice. it’s alfred’s favorite thing to get off to after a long day. he likes the way he can, to an extent, hear you inhale and exhale on the other side of the phone. another thing jones enjoys about calling you is how easy it is. he could be calling from his own line at home or from a burner phone. he’s made sure that you won’t be able to tell the difference.

— alfred has a schedule. he’ll call you at least once a week and at most two or three times a week. occasionally you’ll ignore him which drives him to call you more. the phone will ring and ring and ring all day and night until you pick it up. he’s stubborn like that. you block one number, there’s at least seventy more calling you. in the end, you have no choice but to give in and pick up the phone.

— his calls are sly and almost flirtatious. they’re far too short though. jones loves the hint of curiosity in your voice the more he flatters you, cooing about you how special you are to him. then he says something creepy, something about how he wants to see you from a better angle than the one your window provides— suddenly you’re scared. you’re threatening to call the police. you ignore his next phone call and the one after that… eventually you come around though. you always come around. alfred likes that about you. 

— he enjoys calling you just to watch you talk on the phone with him. he’s on edge when it comes to taking in your every response, physical or verbal. your expressions are addicting, he swears. sometimes you’ll put the phone to your ear, talking into it as you do some sort of housework. laundry, perhaps. jones will keep conversation light during this time so that you don’t mess up your work. he’d hate to get in your way.

— he’s got a voice fit for radio. his voice is hot on the phone and he knows it. sometimes alfred feels like you’re more into these calls than he is.. unlikely. but not impossible. he likes to ask questions often about you, your family, and your hobbies. it doesn’t hurt to ask things, even if jones already knows the answers. it’s funny when you lie and he has the chance to correct you. he’s sure he knows you better than you know yourself.

— “you know i love you, right? the cops won’t stop me from loving you,” alfred pauses slightly from where he is in your backyard, smirking to himself in the dark, “you know that too, don’t you, y/n?”

arthur kirkland!

— his voice is pretty distinctive so he calls less often than others might. kirkland would honestly rather not deal with the consequences of what might happen if you recognize him. he works with you, after all. it would be all too easy for you to put the pieces together, given how smart you are. arthur loves your intelligence.. and hates it at the same time. 

— his schedule is sporadic and somewhat impulsive. most of the time he calls once every week although there are exceptions. when he’s feeling more desperate he’ll call once a day, recording it so he can listen to your voice over and over for comfort. when kirkland feels more paranoid he’ll drop all the way down to once a month. that was rare though.

— his calls are long by stalker standards. he doesn’t speak like a complete creep which keeps you on the line much longer. in fact, arthur presents himself as more of a secret admirer who’s too shy to face you. he loves the reassurance you give him, telling him that he seems like such a nice man and you’d love to give him a chance. you’re too sweet for your own good. he’ll slip every now and then, revealing personal details he knows about you but he’s quick enough to recover without you being too suspicious.

— kirkland doesn’t like to call and watch you, preferring to focus on one thing or the other. if he’s calling, he’s putting his full effort into the phone call. if he’s watching then he’s watching intently, taking note of your every move. alongside his call recordings, he has videos of you taken from outside your window or on a public bus ride. 

— he’ll often try to muddle his accent when he’s speaking to you. if you ever happen to notice his accent and compliment it though, arthur will quickly drop the act just to hear you giggle through the phone. his first question is always ‘how was your day’ as he wants to scope out the mood of the call. if you’re sad then he’s consoling, if you’re happy then kirkland is cheering you on, if you’re angry then maybe he’ll be angry too and agree with you. whatever makes you happiest. 

— “don’t let me keep you up, love. you’ve got a long day at the office tomorrow—“ arthur began, only to be interrupted by you asking how he knows you work in an office. “oh, you’ve mentioned your job many times before. you’re just too tired to think right now. rest well, sweetheart. goodnight.”

francis bonnefoy!

— calls a decent amount, enough for you to expect his calls but not enough for you to get bored. one thing francis will never let you get is bored. each call is slightly different from the last, making them special even if he’s openly flirting in all of them. he likes your voice a lot and doesn’t hesitate to coo into the phone about it.

— calls twice, maybe three times if you’re lucky, every week. bonnefoy just doesn’t want you to start thinking of his calls as harassment, even though they technically are. there’s no ignoring francis, as even though you’re sure you’ve heard him mention watching you go into work, you can’t seem to block him out for longer than a week. you hate the fact that you’ve grown accustomed to his voice and that you miss him even though you shouldn’t. 

— his calls are full of flirtation and it’s not at all one sided. sometimes you’ll pretend you’re not interested and then you’ll start jabbing at him, calling him a creep and worse names. it’s competitive almost, a battle of wits hidden under the guise of romance. he likes to let you think you’re winning. it’s cute. he can almost hear your smirk over the phone.

— he likes calling you from the comforts of his own home, twirling his phone cord around his finger as he trades flirts and insults alike with you. his insults are fine tuned and specific so they hurt a lot, but he’s quick to comfort you before you can realize anything. “oh, *mon coeur! why must we fight *mon amour?” he’ll complain into the phone, stretching out on his bed before continuing on, “you know it hurts me to hurt you.”

— his french accent is rich. it translates nicely enough over the phone, sending a tingle down your spine whenever he speaks in his mother tongue. he’ll talk to you about his love for the most part but he also asks about your current health and whether or not you’ve eaten. you’ve lied to him once or twice and each time ends the same— with a meal delivered to your front porch within minutes. 

— “you want to see me in handcuffs? you’re so cruel, y/n,” he puts on an upset tone of voice at first.. then he shifts to something more seductive. “you don’t need the police for that though.. just let me into your house, *mon ange.. and we can do whatever you like.”

matthew williams!

— matthew calls regularly, specifically in the early morning or in the evening when he knows you’re both free. he’s even worse than alfred when it comes to enjoying your voice in a sexual manner. you sound like an angel to him. he’s not above jerking himself off or humping a pillow while he’s on the phone with you. he can’t help himself. it’s unfortunate that you don’t know his name. he’d love to hear you say it, just once.

— he tries to contact you every other day but sometimes he skips because he finds himself busy with other things. he doesn’t get too upset at this. it’s not like calls are his only way of interacting with you. by the time he starts calling you like this, he’s already watched you sleep at least once or twice. not to mention the clothing he’s taken from you— don’t worry, new clothes will appear on the porch the next day. clothes that he hopes you’ll wear for him sometime soon..

— his calls are, at first, rather shy. he gets bolder as time goes on though, going as far as to mention the color of the delicates you’re wearing that day. he enjoys teasing you with the knowledge he has. he’ll sit there, watching from the bushes, and tell you openly how cute you look when you’re cooking or cleaning. whenever you threaten to call the police, he sighs into the phone. “you’re so mean to me, y/n, playing hard to get.” you hang up, he calls again and again and, well, you pick up. the cycle continues on.

— he doesn’t mind when you’re mean to him, calling him a creep or a freak. he’s into it, really. it won’t change anything for you to pick up on this and start praising him. he’s a simple man. your attention is what he craves. negative, positive, he honestly doesn’t care. it’s part of why he’s willing to admit every once in a while that he’s watched you sleep. things like that quickly grab your attention. he chuckles as he listens to you gasp and ask him to repeat himself. “what do you mean, you ‘saw me dream’ last night?”

— william’s voice is soft and gentle but husky still. it has a certain attractiveness to it, unfortunately. he enjoys having people deliver gifts to your porch and then asking you what you think of them. it’s so frequent, you can’t tell which packages are ones you’ve bought and which ones are ones he’s bought.

— he chuckles into the phone, “i take it you like the clothes i’ve bought you.” you ask him what he’s talking about. his response is simple. “i can see you wearing them right now.”

☆ TRANSLATIONS.

— *”mon coeur” means “my heart” — *”mon amour” translates to “my love” — *”mon ange” means “my angel”