elsliterarylibrary

[elsliterarylibrary]

How does Francois feel about the Paris catacombs? How often does he visit them?

FRANCE: Aussi, il y a beaucoup trop de touristes. (Also, there are too many tourists.) ENGLAND: ... ... ...

[elsliterarylibrary]

Tied Up and Helpless (Hetalia Ludwig Beilschmidt x Reader)

(NSFW! MDNI!)

(CW: Degrading, knife play, blood, bondage, Ludwig is deliciously mean, established relationship)

The shirt hits the floor with a soft flutter. You hadn’t meant for it to get this far. Really, you didn’t. It started as a Pinterest-inspired idea, wrapping rope around your torso to make a mold of your waist and chest for a sewing project. It sounded fun. Creative. You even wore his old shirt while doing it, laughing to yourself as you wound the soft cotton rope around your ribs, over your hips, beneath your chest. But then… something went wrong. Somewhere between tightening a knot and adjusting your position, the rope slipped, looped around your wrists. And your attempt to free yourself only made it tighter. Now your arms are bound behind your back, your chest is squeezed and lifted from the way the rope crisscrosses your body, and you’re sitting on the office floor in nothing but your black panties, completely stuck. You tried to stand. Tried to slide free. But now your thighs are pressed together, your back arching slightly from the tension in the binds, and the shirt you’d been wearing? Shed before tying the rope. You look like a kinky art installation. One you accidentally built yourself. You’re trying to maneuver toward the desk when the door opens. Click.

Ludwig’s voice is casual, annoyed. “Why’s the light still on in-?”

He stops in the doorway. The room freezes with him. His gaze drops from your face to your chest, where the ropes dig just beneath your breasts. Then to your waist, where they wrap like vines, tight and unforgiving. His shirt is crumpled on the floor next to you. Your skin flushed. Panties clinging to you, already damp from the pressure and embarrassment. He stares. And then slowly, real slowly his lips curve into a dark, amused smirk.

“…What in the hell are you doing?”

You blink up at him, cheeks blazing. “I… Okay so don’t laugh. I was trying to make a rope mold. For sewing. Like a pattern thing.”

He walks closer, boots thudding softly on the wood floor. His eyes never leave your bound form.

“And you just tied yourself up? Naked? With your tits out? For a sewing project?”

“It made sense at the time!” you protest, shifting in place. “And then I messed up and now I can’t move and… Stop looking at me like that!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, crouching in front of you like a lion studying a twitching rabbit. “It’s hard not to stare when my girlfriend is sitting half-naked on the floor, tied like a perfectly obedient little rope bunny, begging to be ruined.”

“I’m not begging-”

“You will be,” he cuts in smoothly.

His hands find your knees and spread them apart, slow and deliberate. You squirm, but you can’t go anywhere, not with your wrists behind your back, not with your chest pushed forward by the web of knots across your ribs.

“You know this is textbook shibari,” he mutters, fingers dragging along the rope like he’s evaluating it. “Tension here…” he tugs it, and you gasp, “…chest frame here… This is a damn good tie for someone who ‘messed up.‘”

“I was just-“

“Crafting?” he mocks, brushing his lips over your collarbone, then down toward your chest. “You crafted yourself into a helpless little toy.”

His hand cups your breast, the rope pressing into your skin as he squeezes. “You’re practically presenting yourself.”

You tremble. “I didn’t mean for it to-”

“But now you’re dripping,” he growls, pulling your panties to the side and pressing two fingers against your folds. “Soaked. You can’t even lie properly, can you?”

You cry out as he circles your clit, just barely. It’s maddening.

“Bet you didn’t think tying yourself up would make you this needy,” he murmurs, licking a stripe along your chest. “But look at you, helpless, aching, twitching like a little brat in rope. You wanted me to find you like this.”

You whimper.

“Didn’t you?”

“Please…”

And then he’s on you. He mouths at your chest, tongue tracing where the ropes dig into skin, hands dragging down your thighs, gripping hard enough to bruise. He doesn’t even take his time, he’s hungry, like you’ve lit a fuse under something primal in him.

“You don’t get to move,” he growls. “You tied yourself up, you stay tied. You take everything I give you.”

He pushes your panties lower, not off, just enough. And then his mouth is on you. Everywhere. You moan, writhing under his tongue, his fingers, his filthy voice in your ear.

“Look at you, straining. Can’t even grab my hair or push me away. You’re mine. Just my little fucktoy in rope now.”

He growls, voice sharp and low, breath hot against your throat. Your body jolts as he drags your soaked panties down slowly now off, at last. You’re still bound, arms behind you, knees parted and shaking, chest rising with every hitched breath. The ropes dig into your skin in all the right places, hot, restrictive, humiliating. Your heart is pounding. You’re moaning and crying, cheeks streaked and lips swollen from begging. He holds your panties in his hand for a beat, eyes flicking between them and your flushed, ruined face. Then he tosses them aside like trash, like you’re not even getting those back.

“All this because you tried to play arts and crafts,” he sneers, gripping your hips. “You couldn’t just sew like a good girl, huh? No, you had to tie yourself up like a whore and wait for me to find you.”

Your sob is half-broken, half-moan. He presses the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, dragging it through your slick folds, but doesn’t push in yet. He’s toying with you. Still.

“Were you hoping I’d walk in? That I’d find you like this and lose control? Did you do this on purpose?”

“N-no,” you breathe out, voice wrecked.

“Liar.”

And then he thrusts into you. Fully. One motion. No mercy. You scream, hips jerking forward, but you can’t move, he’s holding you in place, the rope biting into your sides, your wrists pinned by nothing but the knots you tied hours ago.

His groan is deep and rough in your ear. “Fuck- so tight. You’re shaking for me already.”

You’re sobbing, overwhelmed, trembling with the burn of the stretch and the sheer intensity of it all.

“You’re so fucking wet, it’s dripping down your thighs,” he snarls, thrusting hard again. “All from this? From being bound like a filthy little doll?”

You cry out, body arching, but there’s nowhere to run. The rope bites with every movement, rubbing against the tender marks already forming. You’re a mess, wet, bound, shaking, mouth open with desperate gasps that barely sound like words anymore.

“Say it,” he hisses, hand gripping your hair as he pounds into you again, and again, and again. “Say you wanted this. Say you wanted me to find you like this.”

“I- I wanted it,” you choke out. “Please, Ludwig- don’t stop-”

“Oh, I’m not stopping,” he growls. “You tied yourself up, sweetheart. I’m just finishing the job.”

Your eyes roll back as he hits that spot again, and again. One hand is at your throat now, holding, not squeezing, just letting you feel it. Like he owns every inch of you. Like you were made to be tied up and taken like this.

You’re sobbing openly now, tears, drool, messy cries of “yes” and “please” and “don’t stop” the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room.

“You’re going to come just like this,” he snarls into your ear. “Bound, ruined, crying, just how you wanted.”

You fall apart, loud, shaking, mouth open in a raw sob of relief and desperation as your body convulses around him. And he doesn’t stop.His pace stays brutal, hips snapping forward, the wet sound of your release only making him groan louder. Your thighs tremble violently from the overstimulation, from the sharp press of rope across your hips and ribs, from the unbearable heat blooming in your core again. But then-

He stops.Just enough to reach for something. Your chest heaves, gasping for air, brain fogged and dazed as you glance back in time to see Ludwig pulling open the desk drawer with one hand. From it, he withdraws his pocketknife, the one with the matte black handle and the sharp, wicked edge. Your breath catches. Not in fear. In something much darker. He flicks it open with a quiet snick, and then presses the flat of the blade to one of the knots just beneath your breasts.

“I’m only cutting you free,” he growls, eyes locked on yours, wild with lust, “so you can properly hold on to me as I finish fucking you.”

The blade glides through the rope cleanly, one line at a time. Your arms begin to loosen, shoulders falling forward, but you don’t even have time to reposition yourself before-

A sharp sting. A gasp leaves your lips. You flinch as the blade nicks you, right beneath your ribcage. Not deep. Not dangerous. But enough. Enough to sting. Enough to bleed. Enough to turn you inside out. A thin line of red blooms across your skin. Warm. Immediate. A single drop trickles down your side, trailing toward your hip. Ludwig sees it. He freezes, knife still in hand. Then, slowly, his expression darkens, twists into something feral.

“Oh yeah?” he murmurs, voice low and cold and absolutely dripping in amusement. “That turned you on?”

You’re trembling, breath catching, eyes wide and pleading. He tosses the knife aside, grabs your jaw, and leans in.

“You really are a little freak.”

And then he’s licking it, tongue dragging slow and firm along the cut, tasting you, moaning low against your skin. You cry out, overwhelmed all over again.

“That’s it,” he snarls, gripping your freed wrists now and yanking you upright so you’re flush against his chest. “You hold onto me now. Just like I said.”

You barely have time to wrap your arms around him before he slams into you again, hard enough to knock the air from your lungs. You claw at his back, moaning, gasping, begging again as he takes you with full force, hands digging into your ass, his hips relentless.

“You like being hurt?” he growls, biting your neck. “You like when I mark you?”

“Yes,” you sob, voice cracking. “Yes please, Ludwig- don’t stop-“

“You want more? You want me to bleed you next time? Tie you tighter? Leave you shaking for hours?”

You moan, completely undone, body arching into his as the second orgasm slams through you like a tidal wave, raw and overwhelming.

“Fuck,” he groans, hips stuttering. “You’re milking me like a goddamn whore-“

And then he finishes with a low, broken groan, teeth sinking into your shoulder, spilling deep inside you as your bodies crash together in one messy, soaked, absolutely wrecked heap. You can’t feel your legs. Your body is molten, limp in his arms, sweat slick on your skin. You’re trembling, your head pressed to his chest, trying to catch your breath. But Ludwig’s grip on your thighs hasn’t loosened, not even a little. His breathing is ragged, but his cock is still hard, still buried inside you, still twitching like he hasn’t had enough. Because he hasn’t. Not even close. You whimper softly, but it only makes him grin.

“Oh no,” he pants, dragging his fingers slowly over your back. “I’m not done with you.”

Before you can protest he lifts you, strong arms scooping beneath your thighs and shoulders like you weigh nothing. You’re weightless, your limbs weak, too overwhelmed to resist. He carries you out of the office like a man possessed, eyes dark, jaw clenched, blood still gleaming faintly on his lips from the cut he licked. And then-

Thud. You’re thrown face-down onto your shared bed, your knees bouncing on impact, hips instantly lifted by his hands. Your cheek presses into the sheets. Your arms spread out uselessly, boneless and dazed. The room is hazy, like you’re floating, barely tethered to your body. He grabs your hips and drags you to the edge, one hand pressing hard between your shoulder blades to arch your back. You moan, soft, broken, ruined. Ludwig stares down at your ass, your back, your shoulders. And smirks.

“Well would you look at that,” he murmurs, pushing your hair aside. “I think I missed a spot.”

You’re barely coherent. “W-what?”

“Rope,” he says mockingly, reaching for the knife again. “I missed a spot here.”

And before you can process it, another sting. A shallow nick at the curve of your shoulder blade. Not deep. But sharp. Electric. Your mouth falls open in a gasp, the pain hot and stinging, and so good.

“Oh, oops,” he drawls, not sorry at all. “You poor thing. You’re leaking again.”

Blood beads at the surface. He drops the knife onto the nightstand and bends down, tongue flattening as he licks the cut, slow and possessive, like he’s branding you with it. Your moan is nearly inaudible, but he hears it.

“Oh yeah? You freak,” he murmurs against your skin. “That gets you off?”

And then he slams back inside you. No warning. No build-up. Just a ruthless thrust that makes your entire body jolt forward on the bed. You scream, your thighs twitching uncontrollably. He grips your hips tighter, bruisingly so and fucks you like an animal, raw and fast, every thrust chasing that final release.

“You love being used like this,” he snarls. “Body marked. Cut. Covered in your own mess and mine.”

You sob, head pressed into the mattress, completely his.

“Don’t hold back,” he grunts. “Scream for me.”

And you do, moaning, babbling, begging even though you don’t know what for anymore. Your brain is fog, your body heat and blood and rope-burned skin. He presses down against your back, lips at your ear.

“You’re mine. Say it.”

“Y-yours- fuck- I’m yours-”

“Good girl,” he groans, and his rhythm falters.

He bites your shoulder right above the cut, hard, and then he finishes again, deep and messy, hips grinding into yours as he spills inside you once more, panting like he’s just won a war. You go slack beneath him. Boneless. Owned. Dripping.

[elsliterarylibrary]

Mini Me's DC Tour

White House

Yeah, so uh, ignore the fact I was automatically thinking of MY right/left and not Mini Me's right/left... 😁

[elsliterarylibrary]

Hi ^^ May I request how would 2P f.a.c.e treat their s/o after kidnapping them.

Thank you （‐＾▽＾‐）

Yandere 2p! FACE - Shock Therapy

Trigger warnings: kidnapping, abuse in various forms, Stockholm syndrome, deteriorating mental health and mental health problems

2p! America would be nonchalant about the whole affair. To Allen, you would be a horse that would just have to get used to your new environment. Baring you not adapting at all, he wouldn't want to use too much violence. There would be insults and teasing and should you threaten to call the police then he would laugh at your voice. The game here would largely be tit-for-tat, even taking the rough edges of his personality into account. During the beginning, he would treat you well enough - he would wish for you to become comfortable around him, or even fall in love with him. The real torment would only come much later. 

2p! Canada would be boring on raging most of the time. The kidnapping would’ve occured in order to move you out of harm’s way and seeing you being to ungrateful about it would bring him close to ripping his hair out. In ways, he would understand your own fear and anger - he wouldn’t have really asked for your consent and with him being bad with words, he would just keep digging himself in new holes anytime he would try to justify himself. There would be dozens of recriminations and he would very well find himself so irate that he would lash out at you. 

2p! England would make sure to keep you in check and only slowly introduce you to your new reality. Ideally, he would have already ensnared or broken you in long ago. All the terror and pain and pleasure would have been applied to you in doses beforehand, so that he would have made you both fearful and dependant on him beforehand. Of course, if you wouldn’t have completely surrendered yourself to his conquest of you by the time of the kidnapping, then he would have to adapt. Life with him would be even more of a funhouse/madhouse and this impression would be solidified by all the funny potions and poisons would put you under.

2p! France wouldn’t have much effort to accommodate you. He would let you run yourself ragged with all your screaming and running about. Partially, he would even delight in your suffering - after all, misery loves company. These trying times would also offer ample opportunity for you two to grow close. Francois wouldn’t really act to any begging from you either - he would either be apathetic or irritated by such shows. Should he feel very petty about your tantrums, he would write short stories and poems that would paint you in an unflattering light and read them aloud to you. Here he might discover how much he’d enjoy making fun of you. 

[elsliterarylibrary]

Canada snapped

[elsliterarylibrary]

hey hi! Can you do NSFW headcanons for Germany, England and France x fem reader. Like they have reader in a mating press?

Thanks! ^v^

What a fun position to imagine with them. 🤭 Hope you like it!

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, headcanons, vaginal penetration, dirty talk, size kink, creampie, breeding, aftercare

Having you pinned under them (Germany, England, France)

Germany

It might not come as a surprise that he got off on just having you in this position. He couldn’t help the enjoyment he got out of having some power over you. That look of pure ecstasy on your face while being rendered helpless made him snap every time.

The way your brow furrowed the deeper he plunged into you never failed to unleash that dominating nature he often kept hidden.

Gripping the sheets, his focus remained on your face. His pace quickening, his grunts turning into growls, and your moans offering everything he could ever want: despite the rough movements, his voice was tender with you.

Cooing, whispering words of affection while you unraveled on him: you were his personal slice of heaven. 

“Sweet thing…” Was the extent of his dirty talk, just wanting to fuck you like a beast he was but love you like the princess you were.

When your eyes fell on where your bodies were intertwined, the burning intensity from your gaze made everything feel that much more intense.

Comments on his size made him flustered beyond belief. “You’re so fucking big!” being cried out in your sweet moans and pairing with the lewd squelching from your drooling pussy shoved him closer to the edge. “Make me take it all!” was his undoing.

His hands scooped under you and grabbed the back of your shoulders to pull you in. Burying his face in the crook of your neck was his feeble attempt at muffling his moans of release.

Letting him cum in you was one of the greatest pleasures you could give him. Although he didn’t necessarily dislike condoms, he couldn’t deny the extra sensation of not just a physical but emotional connection it had on him.

Admittedly, he wasn’t the greatest when it came to aftercare, what with the haze still having full effect on him when he pulled out. However, the aftermath was accompanied with kisses being peppered over your face and cuddling you closely.

England

He was fairly confident in the bedroom, which was often amplified when in certain positions. Having you pinned under him gave him the perfect view of you: your tits shoved closer to your face and easy access to your clit if he was in the mood to make you lose your mind.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous,” he breathed out as he was balls deep in you. Depending on his mood, he’d either give you a smug grin or softened sigh. Either way he was hellbent on feeling every bit of you milking him for all he was worth.

Dirty talk was one of his favorites, making him want to give you more and more with each filthy word hanging on your lips.

“You like fucking your gorgeous girl?” The moan of your sentence reached him and ignited a second wind, calling you a dirty, naughty girl or if was particularly wound up, a slut.

“Take it like the little slut you are.” He’d feel himself unraveling and quickly. This position damn near always made him finish too early, but he couldn’t be the only one finishing.

Snaking his hand between your colliding bodies, his eyes stayed on your face. As soon as his fingers found your hardened clit, the reaction you gave made his eyes roll back.

Your cries of pleasure, feeling your muscles clenching and spasming around him, your slick juices coating his fingers while he played with you: you were the best. He may not say it as often as he should, but he was head over heels for you.

“Tell me how much you want it.” He practically begged you, no longer holding that cocky edge he had earlier.

“Cum in me! Want it so bad, please!” Mindlessly crying out for him to finish in you welcomed the wave of cum deep inside you. He didn’t stop playing with your clit until he was sure you reached an orgasm too.

After care was more of an afterthought because he was just focused on how good that felt, but him seeing you laying there as a breathless mess pushed him to do his gentlemanly deeds and help you clean up.

France

He adored any position when it came to you. You were like this delicacy he couldn’t get enough of, only driving him crazier the more time he spent with you.

Seemingly never ending energy was pumped into you as he let each moan, groan, and grunt flow freely from himself. Completely comfortable with the noises of ecstasy that came with sex, the room was filled with lewd sounds from you, him, and your connected bodies.

He cooed at you and whispered sweet nothings in your ear in order to make you blush even more. Showering you with affection was constant, sometimes just to get the reaction he wanted but mostly to make the moment feel that much better.

Getting you to orgasm multiple times was a goal he set for himself each time you had sex with him. He remembered the amount of times you cummed last time, as well as the record, making it a game for him to beat the record each time.

His hands teased each sensitive part of your body, and you being in this position made it all the better. You were so cute when you were helpless to the bliss he showered you with, and he took full advantage of that. 

Rolling your nipples between his fingers, playing with your sensitive clit, kissing you passionately and being sure to overwhelm you with tongue: he just wanted those sweet sounds and euphoric shakes from you.

“I love it so much.” Was his favorite, besting all dirty talk. Taking it further, telling him in that sweet voice that you wanted him to cum in you, that you wanted him to give you a baby, it was too much. It made his head spin with desire.

“You want me to give you a little angel to call our own? Hm? You love it that much?” His soothing and adoring tone worked wonders on you. Watching you reach your peak pulled him over the edge along with you.

He was the king of aftercare: backrubs, massages, getting you water, cleaning you up, giving you tender kisses. You were left so relaxed that sometimes you fell asleep during the massage, to which he simply gave you a kiss before tucking you into bed.

[elsliterarylibrary]

Hi hi! That mating press ask has been living in my head rent free, and I was wondering if you could do it for Prussia, Spain, and Romano?

Hope you're having a good day, btw!

Hey! Yeah, of course! :)

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, headcanons, vaginal penetration, praise kink, fluffy smut, creampie, breeding, aftercare, foreplay

Getting you in a mating press (Prussia, Spain, Romano)

Prussia

Despite the confidence that oozed out of him on the daily, he got a bit bashful when it came to intimacy. Seeing you in any revealing position sent his heart racing. Even if he felt flustered while looking at you, that didn’t mean he froze. Hands wandered over your body with care. The need to appreciate the woman you were was done through caresses of your eager form.

His face was flushed bright red the entire time he was mounting you. Looking down to see you bent like a pretzel under him got him riled up beyond belief.

He couldn’t stop staring, but there was so much to take in his eyes kept scanning over every inch of your body. He wanted to touch every part of you: your breasts, your face, your clit. Showering you with affection was just as much a priority as sending you over that edge.

Leaning down pushed him deeper and pulled sweet whimpers out of your trembling lips. The noises you were making boosted his confidence and admittedly gave him a little bit of a big head. He pressed a firm kiss against your cheek and gripped the sheets tightly, trying to anchor himself to you.

His lips covered your face, while he moaned against the lightly dewed skin. As close as possible, as deep as he could push, as good as he could make you feel: he craved everything about you.

Any amount of praise you gave him went straight to his groin. Little gasps of “it’s so good” and “just like that” ignited more of that fire in him. His grip moved to the back of your knees and allowed the momentum of pushing them back to give him more ownership over your slit.

You knew those soft praises were working wonders on him, further stroking the ego that was being pumped into you. “I love it so much” was all it took for you to earn yourself a low groan. Your glassy eyes looked up at him, and his control could be seen dwindling quickly. Without warning, he let out a growl glazed with bliss, just barely able to keep himself together long enough for you to reach your own peak.

Collapsing on top of you, your heavy breathing melted with his. Wrapping his arms tightly around you and holding you like this was the extent of his aftercare, being ultimately due to physical exhaustion. However, if you asked him, he would get you just about anything you needed after a session like that.

Spain

Affection was something he excelled in in every way shape and form. His hands worked over you as if knowing exactly where you craved his touch. The right amount of pressure applied to your most intimate areas was warming you up perfectly. Whispers of how beautiful you were and how good you felt only enhanced his charm.

Attentive wasn’t enough to describe him. When he finally got you into position, you were so ready that your walls practically melted around him. His tender words of endearment continued throughout the entirety of the pleasure you shared together. Telling you how gorgeous you were, how much he adored you, how perfect you felt: each word got you trembling and wanting more.

His movements were deliberate, adjusting his pace to suit what you were desperate for. He was far from a selfish lover. Knowing you were unraveling for him was nearly enough to bring him to climax. There was so much for his eyes to feast on in this position. The way your lips clung to him like a vice earned your little clit the spotlight.

Playing with it while he pumped at a toe-curling speed brought you up and over that edge with angelic moans. It was only the first one of the night, however. He wasn’t anywhere near ready to give into those urges that were rising within him.

He kept the pad of his thumb on that bundle of nerves to help you ride through your orgasm. His hips slowed down and his eyes fluttered shut as if to fully embrace the sensations of you cumming on him.

“That’s it, baby.” He let out in a breathy moan right before returning back to a pace that drove you both wild. You always felt so incredible, but still being able to pump inside you after your first release was a whole other level of pleasure.

He had a mere sliver of selfishness in him. The craving of making you orgasm at least twice before he did was as much for his pleasure as it was yours. Hips bucking against you, his touch exactly where you needed it, your head spinning: you reached that peak yet again, only this time he was right behind you.

It was something he could never tire of. He was entirely spellbound by you. When he pulled out, he took a moment to admire the aftermath. The sight of your pussy filled with his seed—he let out a shaky sigh of satisfaction.

Putting your needs before his own, he took care of whatever you needed: water, massages, even a bath if you really wanted one. He thought you deserved to be treated like the princess you were.

Romano

Admittedly, he wasn’t the biggest casanova, but he still had a bit of an ego and certain positions stroked it in a way that really riled him up. 

Taking your time to work up to the main event helped build his confidence. Hands roaming over each other’s bodies, breaths becoming heavy, kisses that grew heated and passionate: the need to be with you in such an intimate position was more unbearable with each passing moment.

Slowly at first, he took more control. He folded your legs back and let out a little whine from how exposed you were. Biting his bottom lip as he eased into your eager center was his way of trying to appear more “macho”; he didn’t realize how much you adored hearing him make those sounds for you, though.

“Let me hear you moan for me.” When your beg graced his ears, he damn near instantly let go of his restraints. He usually got too much in his own head, so knowing you liked listening to his cries for you was a weight lifted off his shoulders.

His grip moved to your chest, kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples to get them nice and tender. He was losing himself so easily in the moment, just driven by the desire to be with you.

Your mews tangled with his groans in the air between you. No longer overthinking, he allowed his body to act on instinct, which was giving you everything you were begging for.

In one motion he scooped his arms under you and rendered you completely helpless. Sounds of shared euphoria trailing past your ears, slapping skin against skin, and a deepening connection: the flood of release was within reach.

Feeling him nibbling your earlobe sent you over that edge. The sensations coursing through your body and onto his was far too intense for him not to follow you into the soaring heights of climax.

He held onto you through the fading haze of release, wanting to feel your body close to his and savoring the moment. His feverish lips laid along your neck and up the side of your face before pulling away. Even when he slipped out of you, he wasn’t quite ready for you to leave him. Cuddling was a must—something that was never forgotten or skimped on.

[elsliterarylibrary]

How old do you think the nekotalia cats are? (Biologically, not chronologically)

I think their biological age corresponds with that of their nation owners. For example, France's cat is probably a fully grown cat who's a little on the older side. Meanwhile Sealand's cat is definitely still a kitten.

I don't think there are any elderly nation cats just like there aren't any elderly nations. The only time they would start aging like that is if their nation is on the brink of death.

AWWWW now I'm thinking of Rome aging rapidly towards the end of his life while his cat ages with him. And they both get weaker until their irreversible deaths. So now you have to think about it too.

[elsliterarylibrary]

So like my intrusive thoughts in fan fiction form.

Enjoy the crack fan fic of “Como Agua Para Chocolate” with Hetalia yeah I’m not sure how I got here either roll with it. XD

*I’ll update with the Cowboy Slang meanings later 4:19am 21 Juli 2025

This content is 🔥🌶️ Spicy 🌶️🔥 as fuck so viewer discretion is advised as you prepare yourself for

Cowboy! America x Fem! Reader

“For the last time, Alfred: I’M. NOT. INTERESTED. IN. BEING. IN. LOVE.” The venom and frustration coated your voice. His blues were doing their best to hold back the high noon tides that wanted to spill over his under eyes.

“Y/N, you don’t really mea-”

“I DO! For fucks sake! How much more direct do I have to be???” You spit in his direction. “Out of my way! I have things to do.” With that, you mount your horse and speed off. You had no time to entertain his stupidity today. You were one of the special workers on the de la Garza ranch. Your primary duties consisted of dealing with trade, tending the floral garden, and helping/watching over Tita. However, securing better trade deals with other merchants and ranches was your main concern over stifling the love life of a twenty-something. You provided alibis for Tita when necessary. You hated the way the ornery old bitch had the poor woman in a hellish bind.

Regardless, you shook those thoughts from your mind. You had to concentrate on the lucrative trade deal on silk that could bring you such a profit that you wouldn’t have to be an indentured servant anymore.

As your figure receded into the distance, Alfred stood there, feet planted to the ground, heart lonely, and cock in ever-growing pain. He bit down so hard on his lip that he didn’t realize that it had begun to bleed a little. Holding back all he felt for you was difficult. It became increasingly harder every passing day to hold himself back. His fists were clenched, and Alfred was likely on the verge of tears until Tita, the head cook of the ranch, touched his flexed bicep.

“Mr.Jones? Are you alright? Did something bad happen between you and Y/N? I can feel the sadness, rage, and heat of desire coursing through you.”

“You really know how to read people, Tita.”

“I’ve had years of always walking on glass and meeting the flames in which my instincts were formed.”

Tita’s eyes did their best to avoid the struggling python that was being suffocated in Alfred’s pants. She could tell it was dying to be free. Then an idea occurred to Tita. If she was able to penetrate Pedro through her cooking, then she’d be able to help Alfred penetrate you, even through your dense shield of stubbornness.

“Come, I need your help prepping the meal for tonight. We can have a special plate for Y/N to be ready when she gets back. However, Alfred?” Tita touches his pale face and momentarily admires/ inspects his sky blue eyes. “I will need a few drops of blood and some of your tears.”

While preparing the meal, Alfred still wasn’t able to concentrate much on helping Tita prepare the meal. She didn’t mind guiding him gently through the process.

“Alfred, I’ll have you tie the quail's legs together so that they can fry properly. While you’re tying, think about the act of subduing in sensual ways.”

Tita bumps into Alfred’s large body playfully, while doing so, she pricks him, drawing just a bit of his blood. She added it to the pan that was cooking the chestnuts.

“So that your undeniable passion can penetrate the flavor of the dish and thus Y/N’s heart.” Alfred bit down on his lip. A little sweat leaped from his brow into the quail. He thought of how lovely you would look in this very position of the small bird. Heat began to inflate his pants snake. Alfred longed to grab your legs, hold them steady, and massage them into the bed. He thought about how pretty you’d look covered in his seed right after doing numerous rounds. Your soft skin being molded in just the way he wanted, your pained but pleasured moans. He’d…….

“That’s enough, Alfred, don’t break the bones. That will ruin the presentation.” Tita interrupts his dissent into the depths of desire.

‘The heat would loosen bristles on the wild hog. Damn it Y/N why do you have to be so damn hot that even prunes started stewin’ in their own juices???’

“Right.” He replies sheepishly. Alfred gritted his teeth and began to sway his hips back and forth to try and shake his awoken rattlesnake that wanted nothing more than to burrow inside of you.

“Next, I’ll need your help with turning the chestnuts into a puree. Having you grind them can help you release some of that aggression that you’re feeling.” Tita wandered over to the uncut garlic cloves and freshly churned butter, so she could start the next part of the complex dish. As she started to chop the cloves into tiny shards, the intense smell of vegetable sulfur scent made Alfred’s cerulean hues well up with fresh salt water. One tear managed to fall right into his freshly ground chestnut puree. He was going over all the worst possible scenarios of what might be happening to you right now. Were you kidnapped? Did you get injured because your horse kicked you off and left you stranded in the forest, or did you have a treacherous trek back to the ranch from the city that was at least 10 miles away? His real feelings of love within this alchemical process. This dish was kind of like making a Cupid’s arrow meant to shoot through barriers like a blazing star drawing together beings that shouldn’t be separated.

Tita, the Universe, and Alfred all knew too well that you and he should be together. Just you were stubbornly unaware.

******************************************************************************************

Your horse trodded trepidatiously through the dirt road. You decided to take the more covered way to avoid being seen by federal soldiers. You were determined not to share or be taxed for the goods you were able to procure. As you rounded up to a winding curve, you had to halt your horse abruptly.

“Fuck these pigs.” You spat under your breath.

“Señora, I’m afraid I have to ask you a few questions and inspect your bags.”

“Make it quick. I’m on a tight timeline with my ranches’ owner.” You narrow your eyes in contempt and frustration that you have to do this stupid dance for arrogant military men. You dismount your horse and step aside.

“Inspect as you please.” You mockingly bow at them as the few soldiers and their commander take apart your bags. As they began their “inspection” you noticed one of them open the bag that had Rosaura’s pearls for her necklace and tiara. You made sure you kept your attention on him especially.

“How did you obtain these goods senorita?” The commander takes a few steps closer to you. You take one step back. You cautiously rubbed your ankles together to ensure that you still had your pistol on you.

“I know a well established merchant. I’m using this connection to help pay off my debts to the family I’m currently indentured to.” Your eyes then wander back to the solider that had the bag of pearls was stuffing them in his satchel. That made your blood come to an immediate boil.

“Hey! Senor hands off the goods! They’re for the de La Garza wedding and I have to make good on my delivery. Puta.”

Your voice made the already tense air quake with anticipation. Your trigger finger is itchy.

“Señorita, I know you’re not accusing one of my men o-”

A bullet whizzes right past the commander's ear.

“You’ll be a dead man if you and your pathetic lot don’t drop the pearls.” Your index finger is ready to fulfill that promise.

“Cretina arrogante.” His small group of soldiers grabs their swords and rifles. “Matar a la puta!”

******************************************************************************************

Alfred was pacing back and forth in the kitchen furiously like a slowly heating bull in the early morning sun.

“Where in the high heavens is that woman?! The cows have long since come home, and I’m fit to be tied if she’s not here right this second!” His boots boom against the terra cotta colored tile. The spurs spinning in unison with his boiling frustration.

“Alfred. Amigo. It will be fine, Y/N is a fighter like my older sister Gertrudis. She’ll come back. She always has.” Tita calls out to him amidst the smoke that was billowing out of his ears when a train engine, which shouts about its arrivals and departures.

“Yes, but what if this time she’s gone and got herself all hurt, and I know nothing about it? What if she-” Alfred’s ears perked up at the sound of hooves trotting towards the kitchen.

“Tita….” She heard her name be faintly uttered into the night once the trotting stopped. The voice sounded as if it were in agony.

“Y/N!” Alfred was halfway to the door before Tita could even respond to you calling out her name. When he came into your now somewhat fading eyesight.

“Damn it. Not him. Not now.” You utter under your breath.

“Y/N WHAT IN TARNATION?!? Who dun put all these blue whistlers in ya? Where are they? Let me at em?” Alfred angrily rambles on about how he’s going to fuck up the people who dared to put their hands on you. You were in his arms as he carried you inside to tend to your wounds. With each drop of blood that got onto his clothing and boots, some of his hot air was turning back into heat that burned underneath his skin. Feeling warmth of any kind radiating off you, even your blood, sent Alfred’s hormones into a frenzy. His once sleeping trouser snake was awoken by the new wave of heat and essence being emitted by you. Alfred laid you down gently on his Velvet Couch. Tita wasn’t far behind Alfred with the medical supplies.

“She knows how to get into trouble at times.”

“Don’t blame me, it's those cabrones who tried to steal the shit for Rosauras’ dress.” You manage to shout. You hated when you had to half ass your job, it meant that it was going to take longer for you to gain your freedom.

‘Rosaura’s wedding dress!’

Those words ricocheted in Tita’s mind as soon as they tumbled out of your mouth. It was like having hundreds of beestings hit the heart all at once.

Pedro…..

“Tita?”

“Yes?” Snapping out of her sad haze that was beginning to form around her.

“Can you pass me some of the disinfectant and a cloth, please? I’ll tend to Y/N ‘s wounds, and you look like you’ve seen a ghost, darlin’. Maybe it’s time to hit the hay.”

“I….yes…..” Not meeting Alfred’s gaze, she defeatedly handed him the medical supplies box, exited, with her mind still flooded with Pedro. She leaves, leaving the two of you alone.

A pregnant silence fills the room, minus the grunts and movement of gauze, the two of you dared not speak out your feelings. You were appreciative that for once, the blonde cowboy was quiet; however, the look on his face and the heat coming off him gave you new problems to worry about. You wondered if he was still upset about your rejection from earlier and if…..

“Y/N?” Puncturing the silence with a sharp but low voice so as not to disturb the others still sleeping within the house. It took all of your strength not to let out an exasperated sigh.

“Yes…..Alfred?” You wince in pain from him pulling the gauze on your ankle too tightly. The blonde man bites down hard on his lip, drawing a few drops of blood. He felt his other head twitch, and his heart was drumming in his chest.

“What happened?” Alfred started. “Why do you have to be so reckless and run into a bunch of curly wolves. I could’ve had to bury you in the bone orchard.” He chides you as his grip on your calf increased slightly, where he wrapped one of your wounds. His grip made you let out a short yelp of pain. Thoughts from earlier were resurfacing in his mind, where he got to tie your soft (skin color) legs and prepare you to be stuffed.

“Your stupid cowboy phrases don’t read well in Spanish.” You chuckle lightly in an attempt to cut the tension that only increased the moment Tita left. It’s difficult to read the man's expression when anger is the primary emotion, and the secondary emotions: desire, sadness, and fear, all blend in a potent dish. A lightning bolt of pain shot through your calf and your entire body. Alfred’s hand was gripping it tightly while one of his digits prodded the gunshot wound he’d just finished tending to.

“Alfred! Que pedo!?” (What the hell? Vulgar) You try to break free from his might, but his strength feels like that of thousands of men. Your heartbeat begins to pick up. To no avail, you couldn’t break free. With the swift movements of a pouncing rattlesnake, the dirty blonde was on top of you. His breathing was labored and heavy. Sweat beads were dripping down his forehead. His pale cheeks were flushed. His large hands had planted themselves on both sides of your head. Alfred’s gigantic body began to pulsate with a growing level of fire raging beneath his skin, causing him to produce heat. If you didn’t have diminishing candlelight, you would have thought he was a sweaty bull. Alfred’s blues bore themselves into your sou,l searching for something.

“Why do you hate me, y/n?”

Truth be told you didn’t ‘hate’ him. You just had other dreams in mind that came before him, like being able to go worldwide wide see all the cultures, people, animals, etc. You wanted to be able to step out into ice-cold open sea while on a warm sunny beach. You wanted to be fed tropical cuisine by …

“Y/N?” Alfred says loud enough for you to hear it and much too low in tone for it not to be a command for you to answer him.

Your eyes pull away from his gaze to concentrate on the candle that had only an inch and a half left on it. The tiny orange light being the only distraction you had within your dilemma…you just wanted enough to pack up and travel….

“Y/N!” Louder this time to snap you out of your thoughts.

“Please…Alfred, not now. I’m in pain. My head hurts.” You plea,d hoping that giving him your best ‘I’m imploring you to leave me be,’ look will be enough to get him to back off. You bite down on your lip, trying to be convincing. You allow your eyes to grow wide, filling with translucent bubbles. They begin to flow upwards and hit Alfred in all the right places.

His heart filled with bubbles that transformed into butterflies, making his heart speed up. His head received a flurry of white, red, and pink kisses. His body was alight with scarlet warmth, it craved, and lastly his cock got him with a new wave of blood.

Alfred grabs your chin and ensures that your gorgeous orbs are locked within his. You were in sync with his labored breathing. You could hear the delicate wings brush up against Alfred’s lungs. The silvery wings feathered at his heart. The strings that were attached to it began sending harmonic vibrations throughout his entire being. Even Alfred’s soul was touched.

His pants felt way too tight. He felt as though a beast was trying to escape.

“Al…Alf…Alfred? Are you alright?” You studied his features. He was completely drenched in sweat. You weakly reach up to touch his forearm that was caressing your cheek.

“Ye…I CAN’T HOLD MY HOG BACK ANYMORE!” He blurts out while swiftly undoing his belt and zipper, allowing his pants python to spring free from its prison. Alfred’s prodigious pulsating penis looked like it was in pure agony. He leans down to give you a sloppy kiss on the lips. He sucks away all the air from you greedily. Alfred only lets go when you’re beginning to squirm violently for oxygen. He lets go of your lips with an audible pop.

“You can’t keep doing this to me, Y/N.” Alfred puts his forehead to yours. “I’m soft down on ya and I can’t lose you darlin’. Seeing you come back with all those lead plums…” He maneuvers his hands to capture both of yours. “Scared me, darlin’, please…”

Alfred placed a kiss on your forehead, sending a wave of sparkles to flood your entire being. For a moment, you considered whether you were being hit with the euphoria of opium.

‘What in the world is happening to me?! Why is the world around me beginning to feel like a dream?’

“I’m going to ask you again, Y/N. Why do you hate me? I’m not going to drop it until I get an answer that is as fine as cream gravy.”

Alfred’s ocean blues concentrate themselves on your tired (eye color) orbs. His other hand trails its way down to your underwear, where he begins to prod at your womanhood. He does so first through your panties, then his monstrous length takes over the duty of teasing you. You wanted to slink backwards, but your body responded by jerking forward to meet his fire. Just as you were about to kiss again, both of your stomachs grumbled loudly in unison. The two of you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Heh. Shucks, that's one way to kill a mood.” Alfred’s cock goes flaccid somewhat. He did want to be at full strength while riding you all night. And he knew exactly how to do that: The Quail with Rose petal sauce.

“I’ll be back.” He kisses you once more on the lips. Even as he breaks the kiss, his lips linger above yours for a few moments. Alfred felt that if he let them go, he’d never be able to have them again. “I made dinner for you, darlin’.” Alfred caressed your cheek as he hesitated to leave you, as if you’d vanish into smoke the moment he’d let you go.

“I’m glad you’re above snakes, Y/N. You’ve got sand darlin’ and it's one of the many reasons I’m soft down on you.” He continues to stroke your cheeks lovingly as he brushes some loose strands of your hair back behind your ear. “Just while I get your supper, please don’t mount your horse and burn the breeze while I go get it.”

Alfred’s hand catches your uninjured hand and places a kiss on it.

“Promise?”

Rose had been windswept across your cheeks as your eyes darted across the room as if you were trying to sharpshoot the words you needed to respond to him properly. He didn’t wait for your response since he was also sharp set and required sustenance.

Alfred began to follow the instructions on how to properly heat your meal so that it wouldn’t lose flavor or have the wrong texture. As he stirred the honey into the sauce, the sweet smell reminded him of you whenever you got out of the shower, spent the day in the floral garden, came back from a spice trade deal, assisting Tita in the kitchen…you had him roosting on you. His cock started to rustle in his trousers full as a tick once more.

“Y/N…” He whispered and moaned under his breath as he continued to cook. He could begin to feel the fire beneath his skin rekindle itself. Alfred just wanted to be permanently connected to your heart and hips.

Your mind was caught up in a hurricane of emotions, and you didn’t dislike the man entirely, but he was highly obnoxious … but kind at times, too. He did treat your wounds, make you supper, along with various other things, during his time with being at the ranch. He once wrangled a bull with his bare hands to save you. Then your mind wandered back to your other desires, like being able to roam the world freely and be fed tropical cuisine by ….

“Y/N darlin’ FLY AT IT! Tita taught me this one! It’s her special Quail in Rose Petal Sauce.” He brings over your tray. The smell wafting from it made your mouth water and your hormones activate.

“It does smell delicious. I have to admit.” Watching you lick your lips made Alfred think about how great these same lips would look wrapped around his dick. A shockwave of desire sent more blood flow to it. He’s sure he’s never felt his pants be this tight before.

“Let me help feed you.” He cuts into the tender quail meat as he does so, and you could feel your body tingle with anticipation. For once, it felt like one of the things you’d always dreamed of was coming to fruition. As you took a bite of the bird, you now knew what heaven tasted like.

“It’s a dish for the gods!” You blurt out weakly in an attempt to keep the mood light. You need more time to think over everything. The kiss…the touching…. Which….you’d never admit to Alfred that it felt good….and you never knew men could be that large. Alfred gets your second fork full.

“I’m glad you like it, Y/N.” As the fork retracted from your mouth, all he could think about was his cock sliding out of your cunt with hopes that his seed took root in your womb. Alfred wanted to create his own family tree with you.

Alfred picked up your third bite. Your heart was already accelerating, and you could feel your nightgown become drenched in sweat. You were beginning to enjoy being around Alfred. He was becoming different somehow….he was being transformed by the pink mist that…. Was it coming from him… or was it the wonderfully made meal? For a few minutes, you allowed Alfred to feed you in silence while you tried to ignore how your heart suddenly became a hot air balloon. Why had your inner thighs felt like they’d been submerged in the Gulf of Mexico? These thoughts plagued your mind while Alfred was above you, shifting his uncomfortably massive and still-growing dick that yearned to have your tight, warm squeeze.

The sexually charged stillness was broken by the sound of Alfred’s pants button popping off his pants. His python had burst free from prison. Alfred was fully erect and slightly embarrassed that he couldn’t shuck off his clothes like a fancy fille, but bursting in also makes an impressive entrance too.

“Al…Alfred…” You bite your bottom lip, taking in the sight of his chorizo.

Suddenly, you’re being grabbed by your uninjured leg, and your new position is beneath him.

“Y/N….” He lowers himself onto his forearms. You can smell mint, sweat, tobacco, and the late summer midnight breeze on him. His breath is hot and sticky as he inhaled you while he held his face in the crook of your neck.

“Yes…Alfred?” You bring your good arm to run your hand through his dirty blonde locks.

“Why do you hate me?”

You swear you could hear cracks forming on the surface of your heart.

“Alfred…I don’t hate you.”

He begins to plant kisses on your neck. Your feet curled with excitement.

“Heh. You are finally acknowledging the corn. I always knew you were soft on me.” Alfred brought his cerulean hues to take in yours. The second that your gazes interlocked with one another, a magical kind of chemistry overtook the two of you. You slowly tried to unbutton his shirt, but struggled since you only had the use of one of your arms. He lets out a soft chuckle and places your hand on his well-defined chest. It felt as if it were stone that merely had flesh covering it. He unbuttoned his shirt and showcased his abs. Shirking off everything but his choke strap. He looked like a proud, powerful stallion with a cock to match his daunting physique.

Alfred brushed the hair from his bright sapphires that gleamed in the fading candlelight. He was staring intently at you before taking both sides of your face within his palms and placing a tender kiss on your soft lips. As your lips intertwined, your clothes burned off into the rose colored smoke that your erotically inflamed bodies created. Alfred intensified the kiss by forcing his tongue into your mouth and trying to devour your tongue. He’d waited for so long to be able to have you warm his hay sack.

Alfred’s cock pressed itself against your stomach. It felt as though a fleshy branding iron was trying to penetrate your being. Alfred’s weight overpowered you, and his hands roamed upwards so they could entangle themselves with yours. One hand wandered over to grope your breast, playing with the nipple, making it rise to meet his touch.

His hips align with yours like stars making a constellation. Between your legs, it felt like hot coals had been brought fresh from the fireplace. Alfred was moving his tip between your soaked folds as if he was tending to the fields: rough & punishing.

“Ah…” You begin to moan at being so close to the sun. You buck your hips forward to prompt him to prod at your womanhood and claim you. He picked up your injured leg and gently rested it on his shoulder. When Alfred retracted his lips from you momentarily, your heart gained a few more cracks. You now wanted to be close to him like this, always.

Relentlessly, he started to rub his length on the outside of your pussy. You could feel the veins on it pumping blood through them.

Alfred roughly but slowly dragged his coated length against your womanhood that was practically begging to be stabbed by the rugged cowboy. Alfred was intentionally toying with you. This was payback for taking so long to confess to him & making him have engorged blue balls.

“Hmmmmm…….Al….please…… I need you.” You groaned desperately.

The room was growing dimmer with each passing moment, the warm red glow giving way to the pure white luminescent light of the moon pouring into the room from the window. You were now only able to make out an outline of Alfred. You were able to see his azure eyes that carried with them petals of blue, pink, & yellow hydrangeas. The flurry of emotions that flowed through his heart, you could now thoroughly feel what was swarming in his heart, and damn, did you know how to make him feel your ire.

‘I’M. NOT. INTERESTED. IN. BEING. IN. LOVE!’ Ricocced in your mind and shot a bullet down to your heart, making you have a visceral reaction to the thought. Your heart had been successfully hit by a Cupid Carrier’s arrow.

“Y/N? Y/N?” Alfred whispered as he lightly massaged your upper thigh.

“Alfred?”

“You had a thousand-mile stare on your face, and I was lik,e damn. I didn’t know my rattlesnake could knock a lady out even before I could stick er.” He moves back down so he can be beside you while lying on his side. Alfred is diligent to maneuver himself so he doesn’t harm you anymore, but also so that you two could be face-to-face. Even though it was dark, it felt as though Alfred could see that your body had a sunny, warm glow. Your (eye color) spheres, it felt like he was in his tiny universe that was created just for him. The tiny stars that drew him to you and the black holes that stared at him and sought to keep you and him separated. The arrow acted as a needle in the sky, sewing the holes up.

Alfred was in awe of your eyes until you brought him back down to earth when you kissed his slightly chapped lips. He placed his hand on the back of your head to deepen the kiss. Alfred entangled his legs with yours, all while keeping his throbbing member between your drenched folds. You move your hips erratically against his cock. The teasing was becoming too much, and you just wanted him to take you already.

Alfred’s hips buckled.

“Ahh…fssssssss….please…….Alfred……please…….” You could feel the copious amount of preparation rolling down your legs and arms. Along with Alfred’s body heat raging like a midnight forest fire, you needed him to make being injured and encased within an inferno worth it.

“Heh. You’re Barkin’ at a knot darlin’. You’ve got to pay yer dues fer playing hard to get for months on end. [He says your entire legal name here] S’no fair darlin’.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance. Maneuvering your arm down to his member, you grip him tightly and begin to pump. Alfred sucks in a sharp breath. His head is becoming overfilled with a few shockwaves of pleasure.

Alfred loved the feel of your delicate but strong fingers around his dick. He wanted to release so badly, but he didn’t want to waste his seed. Alfred felt his body instinctively coil around your legs to keep you still while he thrusted. His pre-cum made him slick. It made it easy for him to be able to glide in and out of you with ease.

After a few minutes of relentless grinding against your yearning heat, he finally decides to break the rhythm of panting, thrusts, moans, and bangs.

“I won’t hang fire over ya no more Y/N. I’m no fool. And besides.” He leaned down closer to your neck and dragged his tongue up it. Alfred loved the taste of your sweat, blood, gunpowder & honey that melted together on your skin to craft you. You were the perfect mix of sweetness and danger. You were beautiful chaos incarnate. It’s what drove him wild. It’s what made him hard.

“I have a hankering for a hot heap of Y/N.” Alfred moved his lips to kiss up to your jawline so he could capture your lips with his.

It looked like two universes were being sewn together. Alfred’s rattlesnake acted as the needle that pierced the fabric of your womanhood.

“Al….!Al….!ALFRED OH! OH!!!” You break away from the kiss to gasp and moan in awe at his size and performance. Alfred made sure to slide himself back in slowly. There was nothing he could do about his massive girth. However, your extremely constrcting walls were particularly punishing for him. He wasn’t lasting as long as he intended to.

“Y/N.” He gasps into the air, he perspires, and swears that he’s in a different reality. When he looks at you, all he can feel is your heat, which envelops him in a sense of comfort. When you looked into his sapphire eyes, you felt like you’d been blanketed by strong arms that you felt only wanted to protect you. Fervor was rising within you. You wanted Alfred to continue to plow into you deeper, like a star being crushed to form its being. You now had a desire to create a new being…a new life.

Alfred began to pick up the pace with his ‘sewing’. You could feel every pulse, movement, and thrum of his heartstrings as he plowed into you passionately. As he continued, you playfully ran your hands through his golden locks. You imagined you were a kid again, running your hands through the fields of wheat. Your legs swung listlessly against Alfred’s heavy thrusts. Your body was useless to do much against his natural raw power. Alfred could feel himself preparing to be thrown off a cliff. Judging by how your legs were trying to coil around his waist like his belt, and your walls beginning to milk him dry.

“Darlin’ I can’t hold back my hog anymore.” He says one more time before drawing you into a kiss that melted down his entire being with yours. The way that your bodies interweave themselves together was like the universe’s way of permanently tying you to each other.

Alfred’s hot seed filled you like Turkey in Mole, creating the first part in your ‘oven. Erotic labored moans filled the room for a while while the two of you rode out your orgasms. Your hearts were humming together in harmony and came together in song that would be heard through the fabric of time forever.

Alfred had a difficult time letting go of your lips. When he finally did so that you could allow some oxygen back into your lungs. He closed his eyes and rubbed his nose against yours. He felt like he’d reached heaven.

“I love you Y/N.”

Alfred trails kisses from the bridge of your nose up to your forehead. You loved the way his lips tickled your skin.

“I love you, too, Alfred.” With that, you doze off, and his trouser snake chooses to burrow inside of your comfortable walls for the night.

******************************************************************************************

In the morning, Tita whipped up special soap made of honey and saffron to keep the romantic mood up between you and Alfred. She’s guilty of being a tad bit nosy since she needed something to distract her from Rosaura’s and, worst of all, Pedro’s betrayal. She was pleased to know that Alfred got his way. Tita did believe that you and the rugged cowboy made a powerful couple. Alfred was a fantastic farmer and bounty hunter when Mama Elena needed some dirty work of sorts to get done. You, on the other hand, were experienced as a black market dealer, and you proved to be useful around the house, too.

Since you were injured and needed a good reason to leave the oppressive ranch for good…Tita decided that this was the best opportunity to get you pregnant. Mama Elena won’t want you there anymore if you are carrying a child. She’d get rid of you and ensure your separation is permanent.

Tita was crossing all kinds of boundaries when she spent the early hours of the morning brewing a special bath for the two of you…In Mama Elena’s sacred tub! She didn’t care, though. You’d been a friend to him when she was lonely, especially when Nacha died and Gertrudis left. So time to return the favor.

The bath she’d made contained ⅓ Cup of Lavender Flowers (dried and ground by mortar. Is the active aphrodisiac. Mainly to help Y/N. Since Alfred needs no help in the libido department.)

1 Teaspoon of Honey (to heal and cleanse the wounds) with just these two simple ingredients combined it would encourage the love making to continue. She also added a few ruby rose petals to really give the room an added charm. They decorated the room like it was being set up to be a theatrical scene of sorts.

‘Then I can have breakfast and a picnic ready for them.’ Tita went to Alfred’s quarters and knocked gently.

“Y/N, are you and Alfred awake?”

Tita hears some quick shuffling around the rooms before you answer the door.

“Yes?” You had hobbled over on your crutches to answer the door, while all Alfred managed to do was hang his hat over his morning wood.

“Neither of you should bother getting dressed. I’ve made a special bath for the two of you.” She bit her lip and looked away from the scene in the room with a blush.

‘I wish I could do that with Pedro.’ She thought solemnly. Then she mentally slapped herself. ‘Concentrate, Tita! You don’t have all the time in the world!’

“Come! Both of you! You can not allow the water to become cold or Mama Elena to come back from her business trip this evening.” Tita tossed towels over both of you and hustled you across the courtyard to the ‘dark room’. As you did so, Alfred was enjoying the view of seeing your butt jiggle as you hobbled behind Tita.

Tita pushed open these double doors that were ivory white like clouds in the sky. When the lavender scent hits your nostrils, you both immediately relax from your brisk walk and wanted nothing more than to have your hands all over each other again. Alfred already had his hands on your hips. He gave you a few soft kisses that made your skin tingle with excitement. From there, he picked you up bridal style and gently placed you in the tub.

“Your soap and fresh clothes are on the table to the right of you. Enjoy lovebirds.” Tita quickly makes her exit so that you two can begin. Alfred inhaled your hair. It had noticeable traces of gunpowder from your encounter with the imperial guard. Yet he still kissed your hair. He was just happy to have a hog killing time while he got to be able to embrace you in the ways he’s always dreamed of.

“It can’t be a hog killing time if it’s rising again. I feel it poking my butt, hahahah.”

“I didn’t know you could read minds.”

“That’s what happens when you use supernatural remedies to solve love problems.” You turn to look at him with your eyebrows raised high and a smile wide on your face. You tease him by wiggling your butt against his snake to aggravate it. It was working as you allowed the fragrant lavender and honey to fill your lungs and allow both of you to melt into the heated water. He took off your soiled bandages so he could clean your wounds and get you fresh gauze.

“How many curly wolves did you square off with, darlin’?” He kissed the sides of your cheeks, and he cleaned you and massaged your thighs. His fingers expertly kneaded your soft flesh, releasing you’d taken seven gunshot wounds in total. Yet, you still managed to get back to the ranch in one piece with most of Roasura’s stuff.

You smile and drag your teeth across your bottom lip, thinking about how nice it will be for the next round of soldiers who will find their bodies.

“Five. It was just five. Nothing crazy, and it seemed that only one of the five was actually trained properly to be in battle. Or really, how to use a weapon for that matter. I got unlucky catching a few loose strays and two direct hits in my left arm from the commander.”

“I’m in awe of you, Y/N.” Alfred says before giving you more butterfly kisses on your damp skin, which sent you straight to heaven. The steam within the room grows thicker and rosy. When he came back up for air, he saw delicate ivory rope that caught his eye. Then he remembered what Tita said while making the Quail: ‘Think about the act of subduing in sensual ways.’ Alfred grabbed the rope, dragging it through the water first so it would be gentler on your skin. He swiftly captures your ankles and binds them as if they were the tiny quail’s legs and ties the rope tightly but not uncomfortably so.

“Alfr-” He cuts you off with a kiss. He forced his tongue in, and the thick muscle controlled your tongue. When he finally released your lips, Alfred was admiring your nude form for a few moments.

‘I’m ace high for being able to finally get Y/N to warm my velvet couch.’ Not only that, she loves me too. I wonder how pretty she’ll look pregnant and what our children could look like. I want them to have her-’

Your adorable giggle broke the early morning serenity and brought him back to the present.

“Alfred, what are you doing, amor?”

“Wrangling you in darlin’ because…” He brings himself inches away from your face.

“Yous” He pecks your forehead.

“A” He pecks your right cheek.

“Wild” Pecks your left cheek.

“One” Pecks your lips before he concentrates his blues back onto yours. Alfred’s enormous hand was lightly stroking your cheek as he gazed at you and bit down on his lip. You studied the way that he was shifting his eyes to a certain spot in the room, then back to you. His other hand swept the tile for something metal and proceeded to capture your hands. You could feel a harsh cold that contrasted with the hot water. The feeling gave you goosebumps. You were unable to move your arms freely, and they were now stuck behind you.

His boner popped up from beneath the surface of the water.

You burst into laughter at his silly yet sexy antics. You lift your feet up to prod at his member playfully. Feeling his thickening, pumping flesh with your toes, you felt his sexual energy travel from his length to your body. Synapses in your muscles reacted accordingly. It felt like a sensual lightning bolt travelled from your foot, to your calf, to your thigh, building up in power the closer it got to your vagina.

“Try me, cowboy.” You looked at him in the eyes while you continued to bounce his cock up and down.

“Darlin’ …” He lowers himself back into the fragrant water. Alfred stays just an inch away from your face. You can feel the water that may have gone frigid since the start of your bath reheat due to the intensity that was coming off of Alfred’s fair skin. He takes a few moments submerged in your pools of (eye color) before he states:

“Them is fighn’ words.”

Alfred suddenly grabbed your legs & hoisted them above your head. Too stunned, bound, and horny, you allow Alfred to contort your body in the way he desired. Stroking himself some before he entered was crucial. Your erotic whines, pants, & grunts kept him hard. With you hog-tied, penetration into your womb will be much deeper. Alfred lined himself up at your entrance & without hesitation entered you with one major thrust.

“AH! Al…. so..rough.”

He leaned down to kiss the top of your head and inhale the scent of beautiful chaos in your hair. The gunpowder, the sweat, the spices, and the flowers combined created you. You who never failed to rile him up. He always looked forward to seeing you at breakfast, tending to the garden, riding your horse…..

“Heh. I’m just getting started, darlin’.” Alfred could feel the multitudes of lava bubbles boiling inside of him. You drove all of him wild: his head, his heart, his soul, his cock. He felt his balls swell up painfully. Instinctively, he began to move his hips at a frenzied pace. He kept a tight grip on the sides of the tub.

He grabbed your waist aggressively. His breathing was heavy. His cock was sharp-set….Alfred propelled his hips forward one more time. The pleasured shriek rang out through the entire ranch.

Tita was in the kitchen making the cream for the fritters when she heard the “funny business” the two of you were getting into.

“Well, at least Y/N gets to be with who she's in love with.” She continued to gently stir the cream and egg whites.

The intense friction of moving in and out of Y/N made Alfred feel like he’s had a high-class cup of Scamper Juice. It’s a high that he only got to have when he was connected to you.

“Y/N…..Y/N…” Alfred panted out as he continued to plunge himself deeper and deeper into you. As Alfred practically sang out your name with reverence, like he was a choir boy. You and he were beginning to reach your zeniths. Alfred’s python was beginning to spurt out pre-cum, and for you, it may as well have been spurts of hot ash. His pace started to burn the breeze and sear your insides.

“Ah! Ah <3! AH<3!” Your maons grew louder with each punishing ram. Alfred is hitting the hilt of your cervix, hitting that magical spot that life sprang from. Your pelvis was doing its best not to break under Alfred’s immense force while your back was being plowed into the porcelain. You wouldn’t have to hang on for much longer since Alfred paused his movements so he could readjust for the finale. He got onto his knees. His thigh muscles flexing in that position made it look as though it could crush a watermelon. With his dick standing at attention, he was ready to harpoon his prize.

As the sun made its way across the sky, the changes to yours and Alfred’s lives had been altered forever. Now, intertwined till the end of time. However, Alfred and you had to run off before Mama Elena had a chance to separate the two of you, too. All knew she was the destroyer of love. With one last hug for the final goodbye. Tita handed you the Fritters and some food that could last the two of you for a few days.

“Thank you for everything, Tita.” Alfred shakes her hand with a plethora of gratitude. While he held you in his other arm, since, after this morning, you’d lost the ability to walk for a while.

“No problem. Mr. and Mrs. Jones.” Tita teased. Flashing a cheeky smile at you.

“Remember to eat the cream-soaked fritters first as a snack! It’s sure to uplift you as you look for a new place to call home & start your family.”

‘Cream Soaked.’ The only words that bounced around in Alfred’s mind before he imagining you naked and completely coated in his cum. Alfred didn’t notice that he got so caught up in his fantasy of you that the button on his pants flew off into the sky.

[elsliterarylibrary]

[elsliterarylibrary]

☆ stalkertalia canada: “we deserve each other.”

starring. . . gender neutral reader and canada. warning for stalking, manipulation, murder (of unnamed side character), infidelity (reader “cheats” on matthew; they’re not rlly together but he thinks so), degrading language (slut, whore), dub-con (he kisses reader while reader is shell-shocked; reader reciprocates fully but their mind is elsewhere), & madonna-whore complex sort of thinking. requested by anon. masterlist ; here. 🇨🇦 . . . author notes: he imitates the guy you “cheated” with to psychologically mess with you, btw… wearing the guy’s clothes and everything. this isn’t gory or anything, but mental manipulation is present. this is going to ruin the tour (your relationship with him), lol.

matthew williams!

— you’d made the mistake of going out with another guy. he’s not sure why. maybe you thought your relationship wasn’t so serious or maybe you thought he was joking about killing any other man who touches you. regardless, you’re now getting a punishment and he’s got to call his brother to help dispose of a body, which will be a bitch and a half because alfred hates disposing bodies.

— after a trip to the lake, a shower, and a change of clothes, matthew ends up knocking at your front door. he’s holding flowers, roses, just like your date the other day did... and he’s wearing the same clothes as your date, too. the same white button down, blue jacket, and dark pants. he’s even got on the same cologne, a heavy scent mixed with something metallic. the metallic tang is new and a bit unsettling. “is this what you like?” he asks, his voice low and unhinged. “is this what i have to be to keep you?”

— as you step back, he steps forward, persistent. “matthew, let me explain —” you begin, only to be stopped by the look he’s giving you. a cold, harsh yet hurt look, emphasized by his darkened eyes. a hurt man is a dangerous man. you saw that quote somewhere and you’re seeing it in him now. you see it in the way he looks at you with desperation and disgust at the same time.

— “i’m not gonna hurt you,” he murmurs after a few tense moments. “we’re gonna go on a little date. me and you. rekindle our love. go get dressed,” he explains, gesturing with his hand for you to go and change into something more suitable. at your hesitation, he adds, “if you call the police, you’ll be dead before they arrive. don’t make me do things i don’t wanna do. go on.”

— with that, you scamper upstairs and change clothes. when you come back, he’s still waiting for you. he takes your hand, gripping it tightly, as if he refuses to let go. and yet, when he walks you to the car, he lets go of your hand as though you’ve offended him just by touching him. you’re his one true love, and the slut who cheated on him; he switches between one view and the other every five seconds. he drives you out to dinner, the same place your previous date took you to. williams had watched your whole date, it seems. the thought sends an uncomfortable shiver down your spine.

— once inside, he orders for the both of you, requesting the same meals you ate on your date. everything is the same, only this time, you’re with matthew. you can only hope the staff doesn’t notice your discomfort, or the fact that this is your second time here this week. he brings up the same topics the other guy did, questioning you when your answers change even slightly. “that’s not what you told him,” he says, taking a bite of his food, “are you more comfortable telling the truth with me? or… are you just lying now?”

— even so, dinner is relatively calm. even nice. he doesn’t get mad, though his tone continues to hold the implication that you’re on thin ice. williams relaxes as you both eat, glancing at you and, as the date progresses, he even brings up some original topics. he knows the answer to every question already, but the fun is in hearing you say it for yourself. you, too, relax, if only because he wasn’t looking so murderous anymore.

— by the end of dinner, things have turned towards the better. you’d managed to somewhat settle back into what you had, an uneasy relationship between a stalker and his (not completely unwilling) victim. there’s tension, but there’s always been tension, and you’ve always been foolish enough to underestimate it. “what’s next?” you ask him as you both walk to his car.

— “i want you to see something special,” he replies vaguely, reaching for your hand and kissing the knuckles gently. “something personal.” that’s all matthew says, though it’s not like you pester him for details throughout the car ride. no, you’re busy looking out the window, watching as you two come upon a local lake, a few fishermen already set up along the edges.

— it’s only once you two get closer to the lake’s shores that he speaks again. “c’mere.” as you shift closer, he leans over, kissing your forehead as the sun dips down against the horizon. after the kiss, he softly murmurs in your ear, “this is where he is now. his final resting place, thanks to you. you being a slut killed a man. i hope you’re happy.”

— he pulls back, messing with your hair some before looking out into the picturesque sunset. his grip on your hand had tightened, but it’s not like you could run away. your body was glued to the spot, your limbs suddenly not yours to control. all you could do was stare into the lake, knowing a man was hidden in its depths.

— “i love you,” williams whispers, leaning down to kiss you. you tense at first but the familiarity of the act causes you to melt into it soon after, leaning towards his warmth. “you’ve killed a man by being a slut, and yet i still love you.. how kind of me,” he muses, moving to hold your waist, “i bet he’d never forgive you for being a whore, would he? i’m forgiving though… you’re lucky i’m yours. we deserve each other.”

— you instinctively mumble a small ‘i love you, too’, holding onto his waist as he holds yours, touching the pants of a dead man. **you were **certain that he’d snap if you didn’t. as he closes his eyes, leaning in to kiss you once again, your eyes remain on the lake, the shine across the water and the bubbles you swear you can see despite the guy being long dead. if you’d have listened to matthew, that young man would still be alive. you were the hand unknowingly wielding the knife that was matthew williams… your recklessness killed him. maybe you do deserve each other.

[elsliterarylibrary]

Hiii! Anon who sent in the Kuro request originally! Plot idea! Reader goes on an outing with him to an aquarium and because they're admiring the ocean life a lot they accidentally wander off due to getting distracted. Of course I can imagine Kuro panicking over what happened until he finds them watching the stingrays. Reader comforts him with kisses and affection after. Still fluff and mild yandere btw!!!

Hi Kuro Anonnnn! Yes, this is definetly something that can be done. I added an entire sub-plot for some reason, oops. Also the yandere part is implied but not directly stated. Thanks so much for the request!

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Stingrays

You honestly couldn't believe he agreed to go out like this, as just hours ago he was focused on perfecting the latest chapter of his manga.  He's always been kinda stiff when it comes to outings in general. Most of the time you wonder if it's stress of being around other people that bugs him about being away from the house.

He's honestly kept you cooped up inside for this entire month due to violent crimes being committed in the local area. It'd confused you at the time due to Kyoto being a 'generally safe place to live', but then you saw the news coverage. The crimes were rather brutal and happened to women you'd worked with, which gave Kuro justification for making you work remotely. He's been mentioning that he might move soon because of it, and suggested that you could move with him for 'safety' reasons.

Everything he's done as of late has been to help protect you, he's rarely even gone home in the last month for anything. He just brought his pets to your home and set up a makeshift studio for him to work in your guest room the day that the crime spree was publicized. He's honestly changed a lot since when you'd first met him.

His grip on the back of your shirt was relatively loose as you walked around to look at the creatures in each tank. He seems to be focusing more on you and the people around the two of you rather than the fish you came to see.

"I was thinking of moving somewhere in the Tochigi Prefecture..." He's been trying to narrow down places based on your responses all week. This is the only time he hasn't asked about a place but said he was thinking of going there instead.

"Isn't that a tourist hotspot?" It was, you knew it was, it was also more than five hours away. You'd been there before to visit Nikko National Park the previous year. You'd been screamed at by a foreign man half way through your visit, all because you couldn't understand a question he'd asked you in another language. It was one of the things you'd remembered most about the trip outside of visiting the shrine and seeing the cherry blossom in full bloom.

"All of Japan is a tourist hotspot. It just seems safer than here right now. They still haven't caught him, I'd rather you not be anywhere near a serial killer's hunting grounds.""Kuro, it's not a serial killer, and the cops will catch them soon. Just give it a month. We're fine here." You know he'd never listen to you about this when he's already made up his mind. Given that he's one of the only people who's consistently been in your life for this long, you'll end up moving with him regardless of whether you want to or not.

By the time you'd reached the penguin exhibit, the place seemed to be packed. The happy little birds just waddled around the exhibit as Kuro's grip on the back of your shirt tightened. You took a few photos and a quick video to send to relatives, Kuro suddenly twitching as someone brushed against his back. You'd seen his movement from the corner of your eye.

"Are you ok?" Kuro just nodded and let you get back to enjoying your time looking at the fish without protest.

You weave through the crowd from exhibit to exhibit, Kuro's grip on your shirt being the only thing keeping him from being separated from you. When you looked at him, his expression was usually blank anytime he stared into the tanks to look at the fish. The quality of his eyes just seemed to be devoid of life, most likely due to the lighting. It's just something really creepy about him you've learned to ignore about him, knowing it meant he wasn't very engaged with what he was looking at. All you ever had to do was nudge him and that would simply go away, the spark coming back to his eyes immediately when he focused on you.

"You seem distracted." With how often he's been getting that look in your eyes you'd had to worry about whether he was getting depressed or if something else was going on with him you didn't know about.

"Just thinking." He puts his hands into his pockets, finally letting go of you for the first time in over an hour.

You waited for him to elaborate on that and you're not surprised that he doesn't. You usually have to poke and prod him a little to get a clearer explanation out of him in regards to his feelings and personal thoughts. It's like having to knock down a wall every time you talk to him. You know you have it easy though, since even his close friends have complained that you know more about him than they did. Given that his friends are just as strange as him, you weren't entirely sure if that meant he trusts you more than them or not.

"About what?"

"Stuff I have to pack, getting the carpet deep cleaned, how Tama and Pochi are supposed to adapt to a new home after years of being in the same place." All you got from that was that he was worried about how his animals would be upset after moving.

It's a cute thought honestly, until a little voice in the back of your head reminded you his home has all wood flooring. You were going to ask about it but eventually dismiss the thought. You'd only been in his home a few times, he could've remodeled or added carpet in the time after those visits. The rational side of your brain always makes up excuses for every time Kuro acts or says something weird.

Somewhere along the line, the aquarium had an influx of people coming in once again, this time by a few classes of small children carrying clipboards. A few ran into people, one of which being Kuro, distracting him enough for you to be swept up in the new crowd of people. You don't really seem to notice he's no longer next to you anymore by the time you're looking at tanks full of jellyfish.

He noticed immediately that you weren't next to him anymore. He was having a lot of trouble staying calm in such a cramped area like this, where you could be snatched at any moment. He could only sprint around the facility, weaving around the guests as you'd done previously, not caring if he knocked anyone over in the process.

You'd continued to wander further away from the crowd and into an area where stingrays lazily swam around in an open tank. One had its 'face' pressed up against the glass, making it look like it was smiling at you. You take a picture of it and some of the others swimming in the tank, not taking much notice of the school children also peering into the tank as well, taking notes.

Kuro finally made it to you before you'd lost interest in the fish, grabbing the back of your shirt and pulling you back. You didn't really question why he started dragging you out of the aquarium early after seeing the expression on his face.

When you'd reached your apartment, he immediately buried his face in your neck sulking while his heart continued to race. Once something scares him, he takes a long time to finally calm down. All you can do is hug him and kiss his temple and try talking to get him to calm down. You're starting to consider he might actually have something a bit more dire than separation anxiety, you make a mental note to find that one therapist's card before Kuro starts to move. 

[elsliterarylibrary]

2p England fic with a reader who's visiting the UK and stopped by his shop since they're a massive fan of sweets. Gender neutral reader! Perhaps Oliver catches interest since they keep coming back the days they're staying.

Sounds like something I'd do if I had the money to buy treats that often. This feels so short, but I tried my best, hope this meets your expectations! Thanks so much for the request!

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Tourist Trap

This was your first family trip visiting another country. Every year your family visited a different place. You had a mental checklist of what to prepare that you went over repeatedly throughout the week before. It was going to be two weeks long, so there wasn't going to be much room for anything other than a single suitcase and maybe a few carry-ons. If you forgot something, you knew you were going to be a little bit miserable.

Everything else was pretty much planned out, the hotel was booked, activities were planned, everyone else was excited. The only thing your family seemed to complain about was the weather, apparently the UK was known to be rather cold most of the year. That being said, the trip couldn't be booked in July like originally planned, so you were stuck with the cold autumn weather.

The airport was packed and full of people running every which way like birds swarming bread crumbs. It was enough to get your stress levels up for getting on that plane. Getting on the flight was when most of the excitement died down. You easily became restless with the limited amount of space you were given to move around. It wasn't like you could get up and walk around mid flight, you were in a middle seat. What's worse was there was a child kicking the back of your seat the whole time, which kept you from just sleeping the entire time. So, not the greatest experience to start off with.

From there it was leaving the airport and stuffing into two taxis to get you all to the hotel. It was a quiet, modest priced hotel right outside of Cambridge. You noticed there were a number of pubs that you'd passed by to get there, which you knew your parents would ultimately go to get food for the night.

The glowing signs in the dark were almost inviting, and the food on the plane was too expensive, so you'd gone most of the day without eating already. It was all the more reason to not protest when they did end up ordering out, you eating most of the meal they'd brought you before getting to bed.

In the morning, you'd planned to explore. There was nothing really planned for you to do as a group until the afternoon, some fireworks display called the 'Guy Fawkes Night'. Despite the funny name, your mom insisted you'd all go since the restaurants in the area of the show were supposedly good and had a nice view. For now, you were free to go wherever you wanted.

You're not sure what really caught your attention to Oliver's bakery, it could've been the colors in the sign, or it could've been that the hotel didn't serve a continental breakfast and you were simply hungry again. It wasn't really much of a stretch to say you were compelled to take a look at the local treats above anything else.

There's a little jingle of a bell as you open the door to the sweetshop alerting the pastel colored baker behind the counter of your arrival. Oliver was cheerful as always, just another day. He noticed rather quickly that you weren't one of his regulars, which pleased him to some extent.

"Hello love, what can I get you today?" 

You looked at the menu behind him and contemplated your choice before looking back with him.

"Anything you'd recommend?" Your accent caught him off guard for a moment, but ultimately didn't make him change his composure much.

"You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, just visiting."

"Well I hope you have a nice stay. I'd recommend the red velvet cupcakes I just piped." He went behind the counter and started to refill the display with said cupcakes as well as other treats as you continued to contemplate the order.

The sight of the treat makes your mouth water a little, immediately convincing you to buy a few for you and your family. You idly chat with Oliver about some places to check out before leaving, just getting some inside info from a native. You ended up unwrapping one of the cupcakes and eating it on the walk back to the hotel, god did it taste good. You could barely control yourself from eating the other ones, it was just that good.

After that you were hooked, his desserts were worthy of the title of a tourist trap. Over the next two week, you were spending quite a bit on his bakery's sweets. Oliver was getting used to seeing you come in day after day just to ask him what to get. It was nice having someone actually care with his opinion, and enjoy the treats so much that they kept coming back consistently. It was like you were looking for an excuse to talk to him, even though all you seemed to care about was the treats. He knew that wouldn't last forever, so he did something that shocked even himself after you came in again for another treat.

"Can I get your number?" He said it completely out of the blue as you were trying to pay for a treat of his choice once again. You look up from your wallet at him, almost confused.

"What?"

"You're leaving soon right?"

"Yeah. Today's the last day of my stay." That response made him feel better about asking for your number today. He'd never had the chance to otherwise. You'd seemed taken aback but that didn't deter him in the slightest.

"I can give you mine, if that's better."

You pause for a moment, his reaction was almost completely out of left field for you.

"You don't even know me."

"I'd like to. You've come in day after day, I've become used to seeing your face."

"Do you ask every regular you have for their number?"

"No, no, just you. There's just something different about you."

"Does that perchance have anything to do with the fact that I don't live here and have a different accent?" You were being sarcastic, the situation was sweet but a little awkward for you.

"Not what I meant. You know what-" He quickly wrote his name and number on a napkin and handed it to you. "Here." You simply stuffed it into your pocket, not knowing what else to do with it.

"I hope you have a safe trip back."

"Thank you. I'm honestly not looking forward to it."

"Why? Is the airport that bad to deal with?"

"No. They don't have any K.D. bakeries at home. This place is better than anyplace I've been to before."

"Maybe we'll expand our reach to other countries soon. It's mostly just up to what property the boss can snatch up. I'm sure we'd do well elsewhere too."

The conversation was pretty much wrapped up by the time you actually go to pay you. He didn't want to let it slip that he owned the place you thought so highly of, but he does relish the praise.  He had a good feeling you'd call him purely just out of curiosity after you got home, and that was enough for him.

[elsliterarylibrary]

[elsliterarylibrary]

[elsliterarylibrary]

HEAR ME OUT! 1p Italy and 2p Italy competing for the same person, both yandere please I love feli and luci so much UghhuuUu/pos hcs or a fic!

Uhhh I think you'd be disappointed. Thanks for the request!

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Yan! 1P & 2P Italy Competing

💥 I'm sorry but there's really no universe where Feliciano is stepping out of this alive

💥 Neither of them are a type to share with anyone and Luciano would be quick to get rid of him if he doesn't take the one warning he's given seriously

💥 While both wealthy, Luciano has more resources and is much more ruthless than Feliciano

💥 It doesn't help that Feliciano tends to turn to friends to fight his battles for him, and that he runs with the slightest bit of conflict

💥 So the boyfailure is going to be removed from the picture entirely, even if he can't 'die', Luciano will find a way to keep him away even if he has to kill him over and over again just to get a few days of peace with you

💥 You're only going to be left with the mafia don instead, you don't get a choice

[elsliterarylibrary]

Can we get hcs of how Flavio would win reader over? Inspired by your last fic maybe of him? Saw it recently and thought it was adorable. I need him to be loved he deserves it!!!!

I think you have completely underestimated just how much I love to make him miserable. Like he's babygirl obviously but in a pathetic wet cat way. I love him so much though, hopefully this meets your expectations. Thanks so much for the request!

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'Winning You Over' Headcanons

💎 God knows that this man has NEVER been able to accept rejection very well. The idea of not being liked by even a single person has his ego and self-eestem crashing like a house of cards.

💎 Like he likes to say that people are 'haters' if they bash him online, but being in a room with a person that doesn't like him feels way too personal.

💎 He'll pester you about what you don't like about him and come to his own conclusions and mentally spiral for a while over it if you don't give him a straight answer or say "i just don't like you"

💎 He pretty much just chase after your approval in any way he can think of

How He Attempts "Wins You Over"

💎 Gifts, and a lot of them. He could try giving you anything from jewelry to new furniture. He'll also write poetry or make handmade gifts too

💎 He'll lay the sugar on a bit too thick when he talks to you, almost lovebombing you

💎 Offers invites to VIP only parties and exclusive clubs to 'go together', literally anything you want he'll front the bill for

💎 He'll stalk your friend's social media pages and try to figure out which atributes you like about them

💎 He'll change aspects of his personality to fit to your likes better, only switching back to his actual personality when you're not around

💎 He may even offer you cash to make you 'pretend' to like him even just a little bit so it wouldn't bother him anymore

💎 He'll publically humiliate himself in front of others for you

💎 Changing the way he looks is usually a last resort for him but he'd be open to it if that will just like him for a single day

💎 If nothing works, he'll probably just cry about it for a while. Like full on ugly cry until you feel bad for making him emotional