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mimimyluv Ā· 7 months
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good luck with college!!!! :3
thank you nonnie <3
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mimimyluv Ā· 7 months
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requests are now closed surprisingly enough! thanks y'all šŸ«¶
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mimimyluv Ā· 7 months
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Hetalia y/nā€™s have to stand together, how about England x Reader where y/n admires his tattoos?
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anon bless your heart because this lead me down a path of picturing arthur as a prep with secret tattoos and i promptly blacked out. when i woke up i ended up with this oneshot. i hope you enjoy and may your meals always be delicious and your pillow always cold (or warm depending on how you like it lol). also i wasn't sure if you wanted smut, so it's sfw (just to be safe). but it's still suggestive. if you wanted full-blown smut tho just lmk šŸ‘
ā†ļ¹’ā¬šļ¹’šŸļ¹’āž²ļ¹’reader admiring arthur's tattoos; gn! reader (nothing specified), 800 words/4k characters, fluff with some suggestive themes. lowercase intended.
the contrast is interesting, you muse.
your loverā€™s always projected a properā€“ if not a tad pretentiousā€“ image of the quintessential upper-class english man. he has all his clothes and shoes tailored; every thread and button perfectly bespoke (the extra costs just for suit jackets can be somewhat incomprehensible, but he always assures you it is a perfectly good investment. you never complain too muchā€“ not when heā€™s so damn handsome in those same bespoke suits).
he drinks his tea with a pinky up; always, always with the fine, intricately painted porcelain (an antique dating back to the victorian era, he often tells you).
he rubs elbows with the upper echelons of london society; engaging in those stereotypical, hoity-toity activities only people with money to burn can do (polo, horseback riding, fucking golfā€¦ it would make you laugh if it werenā€™t for his tall, elegant frame, with the lean, subtle musculature of the ideal english sportsman).
but beneath that proper exterior, thoughā€“ thereā€™s something more passionate, something more untamed lurking. while arthur often keeps that side of him under wraps, you have the privilege of being privy to it in numerous ways.
youā€™re reminded of it as you laze next to him in his sheets, basking in the post-sex afterglow. his back is to you, you can fully take in the smattering of golden freckles across his fair skin, andā€¦ oh.
ā€œi havenā€™t seen this one before.ā€
you trace your fingers along the merfolk inked on his back. you try to summon some hazy memories from a past gallery date with arthurā€“ ah, yes. itā€™s a near-identical replica of john william waterhouseā€™s mermaid, exceptā€¦
itā€™s you. replacing the mermaid combing her long, auburn hair is you. youā€™re in that same, languid pose, with just a long white fabric draped tightly along your body to preserve the barest modicum of modesty. somehow, thoughā€“ with the sultriness of your eyes, the curve of your bare neck and shouldersā€“ this remaster of waterhouseā€™s mermaid somehow seems moreā€¦ suggestive.
ā€œdo you like it?ā€ he murmurs, turning over to face you. his forest-green eyes are lidded, light, feathered lashes nearly resting on the top of his freckled cheeks. this is the most relaxed youā€™ve ever seen him; your heart leaps for a split second.
ā€œa tattoo of me?ā€ you say, mock-dryly. still, your face is warm, and you canā€™t help but smile. ā€œi thought you hated cliches.ā€
ā€œah, well.ā€ suddenly, heā€™s blushing too. his freckles are even more stark against his skin; you barely resist the urge to trace your thumb all over them. ā€œsomeā€¦ can be alright.ā€
you grin.
ā€œwhen did you get this?ā€
ā€œa few weeks after our date to the tate.ā€
you canā€™t help but snort out a laugh, fond.
ā€œand you said you were done with tattoos, hm?ā€
ā€œwhen i saw that painting,ā€ the pinkness of his cheeks deepen, ā€œi just couldnā€™t stop seeing you. so one last tattoo couldnā€™t hurt, i suppose.ā€
ā€œmhm, itā€™s not like i mind,ā€ you whisper, drawing a hand down to trace the tudor roses and ivy inked along his ribs, ā€œyou know i love your tattoos, arthur.ā€
ā€œperhaps thatā€™s why i had it done,ā€ he laughs raspily, ā€œyou might only want me for my tattoos. needed something to keep the spark alive, donā€™t you think, my dear?ā€
ā€œdonā€™t be an idiot.ā€ you lightly chastise him, then draw him closer for a kiss, bracing him by your hand on the back of his head. unlike the heated, passionate kisses you two shared earlier, he moves his mouth against yours slowly and indulgently; the kind of kiss that could lull you to slumber after a long day.
ā€œlet me see it again, then.ā€ you say against his lips, quiet and muffled. he smirks, uncharacteristically roguish.
ā€œi believe you just proved my earlier point.ā€
ā€œoh, shut up.ā€
he complies anyway, shifting so you can see his back; this time, you can study it more clearly. your face, stark as dayā€“ maybe itā€™s corny, but you canā€™t help the way your heart leaps at the sight. proper, upper-class arthur kirkland being lovestruck enough to have you permanently inked on his skin, even when heā€™s eschewed tattoos and everything that can be linked to delinquency in favor of his image. thereā€™s just something trulyā€¦ amazing about it.
ā€œi wanna see the rest.ā€ you mumble. he rolls over, pretending to grumble.
ā€œmaybe you really are just with me for my tattoos, love.ā€
you ignore him and look over the rest of his tattoosā€“ the tudor roses and ivy on his ribs; the plantagenet lions on his left shoulder; a hobbesā€™ quoteā€“ a great leap in the darkā€“ on his right forearm.
and now, the portrait of you as waterhouseā€™s mermaid on his back.
ā€œi do love your tattoos, arthur.ā€ you quietly repeat, settling down next to him. you draw nearer, hooking a leg over his body and resting your head against his chest; his heartbeat thrums in a consistent pitter-patter right next to your ear.
ā€œbut i love you more.ā€
heā€™s silent, but he combs his fingersā€“ long, graceful, and work-wornā€“ through your hair.
ā€œi love you too.ā€
ā€œyeah.ā€ you smile drowsily. you can see yourself as a merfolk in your hazy mind's eye, forever inked on his back. ā€œi know.ā€
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mimimyluv Ā· 7 months
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i know hardly anyone indulges in hetalia anymore (nevermind reader inserts), but for old times' sake (and self-satisfaction), i am opening the cringy "le lemon" blog i would've been freaked out to find when i was younger lol.
ā†ļ¹’ā¬šļ¹’šŸļ¹’āž²ļ¹’important notes
i am nineteen and a college student, so i can't always guarantee timely updates.
i'll only do reader-insert requests since i honestly hardly engage with the canon x canon stuff of this fandom anymore. also, as i've stated, my main forte (in terms of full-length fics) are nsft pieces. however, i'll also gladly do all kinds of headcanons and things like match-ups.
i'll write for just about anyone (1ps, 2ps, nyotalia, etc.) except animal or child characters. i also don't engage with anything proship (shotacon/lolicon, incest, noncon, etc. basically most of the stuff that can fall under dead dove.)
readers are gender neutral by default, though i write afab readers more often. i am open to writing anything though, so please specify if you want something šŸ«¶
ā†ļ¹’ā¬šļ¹’šŸŒ·ļ¹’āž²ļ¹’masterlist
coming soon . . .
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