#aph america and reader

[wander-lustrous]

countdown.

mini-scenarios; how long it takes for each of them to act. ft. norway, greece, russia, spain, japan, prussia, france, netherlands, america, romano. not sfw! 2.2k words

cw: smut. afab reader. collars, teasing, praise kink, dom/sub dynamics, implied gym s*x, implied shower s*x, lingerie, 69, cunnilingus

(10 seconds.)

Lukas likes to make you work for his attention. He’s a cool, aloof lover, the kind whose comments settle over you like the chill of winter. 

In contrast to his dry wit, he works at you like a sculptor, hands nimble and light. Reverent even. He’s unhurried, precise. 

But that’s exactly what makes you want to put on such a brazen display. 

He’s eyed you once or twice but his attention is primarily on the laptop before him. But the sound of fabric shifting piques his interest, and he looks up just in time to see your robe slipping off your shoulders and pooling around your ankles. His gaze roams appreciatively over the sight–your bare skin, goosebumps along your arms. 

He raises a thinly arched brow.

“You’re daring today,” he notes, his lips quirking upwards at one end. He closes his laptop, setting it aside before clasping his hands over his lap, crossing his legs at the ankle. He looks you up and down with no shame, appraising you. “What for?”

The question slips through the space between you as you approach him. Your thigh nudges between his legs, and you know he’s found his answer when his gaze trails up slowly, deliberately–from the apex of your legs, bare and glistening, upwards to the jut of your chest, landing on the leather collar around your neck.

By the way his breath catches slightly, his gaze fixated on it, you can tell he hadn’t noticed that. 

“Is this for me?” he asks, fingers skimming the collar like someone perusing fine china. You bite down on your lip and he hooks his finger under the material, dragging you forward. His lips claim yours with the clear intention that he would soon find out.

(And when it’s over, nothing is as damning as the angry red imprint of his hands on your ass. Or the similar red blooms specked across your neck and collarbone.)

(9 seconds.)

Heracles is an infamous lover, his exploits as legendary as his rich history. Yet if there is one thing you know intimately about him, it’s that he can be quite a lazy lover as well, enjoying the throes of sleep nearly as much as the conquest of bodies.

You had awoken in his bed, the hazy remnants of last night filtering through your mind like the rays of the morning sun peeking through his blinds. You found him nestled in his sheets, his brow unperturbed. The easy rise and fall of his chest reminded you of when it was much more labored just a few hours ago.

It seems only natural, you shifting to straddle him, your legs parting around his waist. The sheets slipping off your form. Chest-to-chest, you move in languid rocking motions, sighing softly as the friction it generates is enough to re-ignite the low flame within you. It takes a few seconds before the soft breaths warming the top of your head stutter, and his hand presses against your back.

“G’morning,” he says groggily, a hint of amusement in his languid smile. You don’t cease your movements, the hot column of flesh between the cheeks of your thighs responding to you. Heracles rests his hands on your hips, sighing softly once you reach between your bodies to touch him more substantively. 

He lets out a breathy moan however once you shift forwards and he’s nestled into your tight warmth once more.

The best way to wake up, in his experience.

(8 seconds.)

Ivan isn’t a brute. No matter how much he wants to take you (and he wants it so badly in fact; your legs wrapped around his an image seared into his mind, the sweet moans of his name pouring from your lips like music to his ears)... he is considerate. You’re smaller than him, you’re not sturdy, not hardened like one of his enemies; in fact, he’d say you’re quite the opposite—

But you certainly are testing the limits of his patience. Perched in his lap as you are, grinding your hips against his in a maddening tango. His grip tightens around your waist–a warning. His hand tightens around the phone pressed to ear, and you hear the way the plastic creaks, as if he’s about to break it. His responses to his boss are  monosyllabic, his thoughts entering around how you present yourself before him, much like a rabbit begging to be pounced on by a lynx—

He catches movement from the corner of his eye, and he watches, gaze sharp, as you reach for his hand gripping your side, yanking his glove off before throwing it onto the floor. Then slowly, deliberately, your gaze trained on him, you bring his hand up to your mouth. He watches as your lips wrap them around one thick finger, before sucking, and surely, even through his pants, you can feel the way his cock jumps at the action. 

“Sorry, boss,” Ivan says, his gaze darkening as he watches your tongue work over his digit. “But I will have to call you back.” He hangs up without waiting for so much as a response.

Ivan tosses his phone to the side, grasping your jaw with his free hand. Your mouth releases his finger, and in a flurry of movement, he’s pining both of your hands above your head in a firm grip.

“You want my fingers so bad, da?” He laughs, a dark, velvety sound. “I’ll give them to you, but don’t blame me if it's rough.”

(7 seconds.)

“Ay, gracias a dios, what did I even do to deserve you, amor?”

Antonio’s lips trail down your neck, littering kisses in conjunction with his honeyed praise. His hands roam your form, groaning once he feels your soft flesh barely contained by the scrappy fabric of your panties. Your giggle has antonio pulling back.

“What? Why are you laughing?” he asks, pulling back with a grin. He can’t help but chuckle himself.

“You’re just so easy, Toni.” You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him in closer. 

“And you’re very tempting,” he quips, hooking his finger into the thin strap of your thong and pulling; watching, with delight, as he lets it go and it snaps against your skin. you jolt, and with a sharp intake of breath, Antonio takes the opportunity to latch his mouth onto the top of your chest, sucking freshly bloomed roses onto your skin. 

“No more games though,” he groans once he lifts his head. He adjusts your position until your back is sinking into the bed, him looming above you. His hand reaches out to graze your cheek, brushing hair from your face, before trailing lower, skimming your hardened nipple through the thin lace, then even lower, his fingers circling the dampened fabric between your legs, stroking lightly. 

Antonio grins once more, pressing a kiss to your eyelid. His breath washes hot over your skin.

“I am so very hungry, mi corazón. I want to taste you.”

(6 seconds.)

No one gets close enough to Kiku to see how deep brown his eyes are. Dark enough to be black, with the richest shades of carob, those same eyes are trained upon you now, darkened with desire not often seen on the reserved man’s expressions.  

“What were you planning when you asked me to do this?” he says, his voice assured. Unwavering. His boldness also surprised you; in public, he was reticent, quiet. In private, he liked to take control. His thigh is between your legs, parting them, and you have to resist the urge to grind into it. Your hands are bound together with his belt, above you. 

“I’m not sure,” you admit. His gaze darts down to the way you wet your lips, the heave of your chest. He cocks his head to the side.

“I don’t believe you.”

Of course, he knows. He heard of the challenge from the internet, but he hardly expected you to try and trick him into it, pinning him against the wall with a cheeky grin. Still, he played along, spurred by his own interest in just how you’d react when the tables were turned. You didn’t have a moment to react before your world spun, and he had pinned you against the wall instead.  

His gaze rakes down your form, the same way a connoisseur would survey their goods before partaking in them.

He leans in. “Perhaps I’ll need to train you to be more honest,” he says, his breath hot against your neck. “Let’s start with this: where do you want it first?” 

(5 seconds.)

Gilbert didn’t realize that this could be an outcome. Sure he played rough as a youth, enjoyed the spar of bodies, and the smell of battle, but this?

This is the allure of the sweat trailing down your skin, your breathless laugh as you ask him if he’s done with his workout. He never considered this to be exciting—yet he likes it. It reminds him of how certain other activities can also work up quite a sweat. You ask him for a sip of his water, and Gilbert absentmindedly hands you his bottle. He’s thinking instead, about possibilities.

More specifically, whether or not the two of you could reasonably fit in one of the gym’s shower stalls for a quick tryst.

You’re dabbing the sweat off your neck with a towel, asking if he wants to grab a post-workout snack, when he acts. He rips the towel from your grasp, throwing it onto the floor.

“Hey!” you exclaim, only to yelp when he wraps his arms around your chest and pulls you back into him. Your brow raises when something firm prods against your ass, and you meet his mischievous gaze in the mirror.

“Maus, I think we’ve got to hold off on that.” He grins at you, his arms wrapping tighter around you. You can’t miss the way he rolls his hips against your back. “After all, we’re about to start the second workout.”

(4 seconds.)

Francis has a taste for the finer things in life: fine wine, fine food, fine clothing. Beauty, the arts. He considers himself a man of exquisite taste, his eye for the best unparalleled.

Indeed, he thinks, watching you splayed before him, the silk robe caressing every dip and curve of you, he makes very good choices. He downs the last of his sauvignon, setting the glass onto the table.

“Mon chérie, let me get a closer look at you.” He gestures, and you do a twirl for him, your gait slightly off kilter, no doubt due to the few glasses you’ve had yourself. He chuckles, his hands reaching around to grasp you fully, to engulf you in his hold. His lips skim your collarbone, his other hand deftly undoing the tie to your robe, revealing you to him. 

“Magnifique. You must excuse my gall, but… I’d like to appreciate such a fine work of art.”

(3 seconds.)

Abel you’ve come to find, is not the patient type. He is when he needs to be, when it comes to negotiating trades or haggling, but he much prefers the blunt, take-what-you-can-when-you-want approach.

Including now.

“Stop moving your hips,” he grunts, large hands planted firmly on your ass. When you fail to listen, stubbornly continuing your rhythm, he grips one cheek fully and smacks, the sound reverberating in the room. You whine, and he takes the opportunity to eye your swollen mound.

After all, what else was he supposed to do when he came home to find you bent over the couch, the hem of one of his old shirts hitched high up your hips, showing the cute boxer shorts you had on? He may be a man of great restraint, but he is greedy, above all.

He thrusts into your mouth suddenly, a sharp motion, and you gag, pulling off of him. As you cough, Abel makes an annoyed sound, his cock twitching from the lack of stimulation. 

After all, Abel thinks, his tongue delving into you once more, his fingers furiously plunging into your depths (Efficiency, putting you over the edge as quick as possible.) 

Why be patient when he can be fervid?

(2 seconds.)

The bathroom door slams open, and Alfred stands there, disheveled and panting.

“Dude! You said we could shower together….” His voice dies down once he realizes that you are in fact, very naked. “Oh.”

“You were asleep. I didn’t wanna wake you.”

“Well, you should have!” he says, closing the door behind him. Before you can blink, he’s slipping off his shirt and unbuckling his belt. He sets his glasses down on the counter before moving to wrap his arms around you, cupping your chest in one hand as he looks at you fondly. He grins.

“You know we totally need to save on that water bill, right?”

(1 second.)

Lovino is not one to be outdone.  

“What? You mean you didn’t—”

Shame sets in, darkening his features. Breathless, you pat his chest. “It’s okay, Lovi. I’m fine.”

“No,” he says firmly. “It’s not fine.” Despite being spent, despite having given it his all the past few minutes, he finds a surge of energy and flips the two of you over. He trails down your body until he’s a breath away from where you need him the most.

“Perdonami, ragazza. How selfish of me. I’ll make sure you won’t be able to move after this,” he says before his lips seal over you.

[generational-atrophy]

OMG! I WAS LOOKING THROUGH UR BLOG CUZ MY HETALIA PHASE IS BACK AND WAS LIKE "I LOVE THIS WRITER SM WHERE ARE THEY" AND BOOM!

So request, if that's okay, the main 8 with a reader who cries during confrontations and or arguments. An imagine where ofc the main 8 says something hurtful and reader just covers their ears because 1.) Ears do be sensitive and 2.) It causes them to shut down completely

Can we know how they'd handle it plus how it'd go? Ty 💜

hetalia main 8 saying something they regret in an argument

2.8k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: they say hurtful things, and are kind of assholes in general lol

America - Alfred F. Jones

“I’m better than this. Why’d I keep someone as seriously uncool as you around?!”

Even as you immediately begin turning away from him, curling into yourself for comfort, Alfred would be less than sympathetic. If you’d ever doubted how self-centred he could be, this was more than enough evidence to prove it.

“What? What- just- don’t do that! You’re the one who started this!”

It’s unlikely he’d let up even after the tears start. He’s really that callous when he feels hurt. After a few tense minutes of silence broken only by your quiet whimpering, he’d start tearing up too. Not from guilt, seeing how much he hurt you. But instead from how he’s only now realizing he has to put his own feelings aside to take care of yours.

He’d approach you like a rabid animal, a lump stuck in his throat as he tries to say anything to get you talking again.

“Listen, it’s uh- not that serious. I’m sorry, ok? Let’s just… like- do something else?”

His comforting consists mostly of trying to get you out of your own head. Once it’s been long enough that you’re less scared, he’d take your hands away from your ears gently and kiss your cheek. If you’re sensitive to other things, he’d wrap his jacket around your shoulders and turn off the lights until you’re up and talking again.

“See? Not that hard, just like I said. Good job, babe…  let’s just keep going like this, yeah?”

Somewhere, past all of the self-absorption and pride, he does have a heart. And that heart will immediately take you out to get ice cream. It’d take him a while to admit fault (and I mean real responsibility, not just his usual “sorry not sorry, move on,” schtick,) but maybe once your tear stains have dried, he’d realize what an ass he’d been.

England - Arthur Kirkland

“G*d, you’re pissing me off already! Just- fuck- get out of here if you hate us so much!”

Like usual. He’s desperate to just leave as soon as there’s conflict. It may be annoying, but at least he’s only doing it because he knows how awful he is when frustrated. 

If you don’t take up his offer to abandon the conversation, he will. You’d have to be seriously struggling to keep him with you in that moment.

“Trust me, everything will be much, much worse if I stay…”

He’s always acting like that. It’s like his conscience disappears when he speaks, but only returns when he’s already said the hurtful thing. Never taking responsibility, always panicking and leaving just as your tears start to fall.

But, the more you tell him how much that hurts, the more he might be willing to stay.

It’ll take him a while to be able to choke out a cowardly “sorry,” but at least he’ll stop trying to push you away at every occasion.

“Wait- don’t cry so much love, I’m- I… I didn’t mean it. Ok? Is that better?”

It’s impossible for him to keep arguing once you’re truly upset. Instead, he’ll take you by the hand to the kitchen so he can start making tea for the two of you. In that silence, he encourages you to speak whatever awful thoughts you’re repeating to yourself. He’s just trying to get you in a comfortable environment again at that point.

Quiet affirmations are the only things he’ll bring, looking at you sympathetically and still holding your hand tight while you talk about whatever you want to. Whether that be something completely random, insults towards him, or actual constructive discussion is up to you.

At the end of the night, he’ll apologize. Not well, mind you, but enough to dissuade you from whatever hurt you earlier. All that matters to him is that you don’t go to bed upset.

“I’ll do better next time… or- I mean- I’ll do my best to… not be like that… again. Promise.”

France - Francois Bonnefoy

“But is it that impossible for you to put in some effort? It’s just… embarrassing to be with you right now!”

He’s always been a fighter for sport. When he argues with you, it’s not to prove a point. It’s probably not about anything he actually cares about either. He honestly just does it for fun. To him, arguing is how you really get to know someone.

So when you take his words to heart and, in the worst case, start crying, he just really doesn’t know what to do.

“Merde, darling, you know I wasn’t being serious! Come on now, don’t take it so personally…”

He may grumble about how he didn’t want you to get so upset, but at least he’ll still calm down and quit pushing you. Whatever tension there was before will dissipate as soon as he sighs, making his way over to you and wrapping you in his embrace. Unless that makes you even more uncomfortable, in which case he’ll just grab your favourite blanket and gently drape it over your shoulders.

“I am so sorry I made you so upset, I really didn’t mean it. You’re wonderful to me, always so stunning!”

For as long as you need him to, he’ll apologize over and over again, playing with your hair and wiping away your tears as delicately as he can manage. He may be just as upset as you are when he realizes what he did, but he’s shockingly good at compartmentalizing that when you need support.

But, if you focus too much on how he hurt you, he might start crying too. He can’t help it. Ignore him.

Either way, he’s there to hold you and validate you in whatever you might be feeling at that moment. Be as irrational as you need to be,  he understands the urge well. And either way, he’ll just nod along to anything you say and insist it’s everyone else's fault. Including his, unlike basically every other man.

“How can you expect to survive when you hold all of this in? Please, always come to me even with small things, we share everything as lovers, yes? I cannot bear to see you as upset as this…”

China - Yao Wang

“Can’t you act your age? How do you expect anyone to put up with you like this?!”

As soon he says it, he knows that was an awful thing to say. He doesn’t need you to tell him, he can tell just by your expression that it was too far. You didn’t deserve that, he told himself.

But that doesn’t mean his ego is gonna let him give in so easily. Even if he was an ass, he still can’t let himself give up “authority” in a fight.

“Agh- that’s not… its not what I mean to say, alright?! So just… pretend I did not….”

If you quit fighting, instead becoming more upset, he’ll really struggle to calm down instead. Like, yes, he knows he should be trying to make you feel better, but that’s- he just doesn’t want to! He entered this fight with a purpose, and just because you’re crying doesn’t make that purpose any less important!

“Why won’t you argue back?! Aiyah, I knew you were childish but-”

Then he cuts himself off. Does he want to be the bigger person and apologize? No. But will he do it if you stop crying? Yes.

He’ll rest a hand on your arm and suggest in the gentlest voice possible that the two of you should go for a walk. Maybe the fresh air will help both of you clear your heads. He doesn’t know what must’ve happened to him to make him say all of those things either.

“I don’t think those thoughts, tiánxīn. I’m sorry I said it, I was upset but… I still should have known better.”

For as quickly as he’s willing to take responsibility, he’s not as much good at the “getting you out of breakdown” stage. Hopefully, you’ve already communicated with him about that so he knows to stop being so loud and trying to touch you. He’ll do whatever you request of him, but what’s best for you in that moment is probably not his first instinct.

“I’m sorry I was being such a huge ass. I love you, I promise.”

Russia - Ivan Braginsky

“You think you are special? I can beat sense into you just like I can them!”

Good luck getting him to understand that you can’t just threaten people within the next few hours. It will not work. When he’s angry, he really doesn’t care about feelings. Just about getting you to cooperate with whatever he says.

He may usually think of both of you as equals, but when you start seriously challenging his authority while he’s in a bad mood, it’s impossible for him to not be cruel. It’s always just better to leave than let him spiral and hurt both of you in the process

Although, he (obviously) would never actually put his hands on you. He just acts like a big baby and’ll stomp his feet and tell you whatever will get the most reaction out of you.

“Любимый, won’t you come out? I’m very sorry, I promise… can’t we just talk?”

But if you do remove yourself from the situation, he would never chase after you and force you to keep being in that awful environment. He knows better than that at least.

The moment you turn away and refuse to engage with his childishness, he’s already planning how to get you to forgive him. For as callous as it seems, your disapproval hurts him more than anything else. He would come to you on his knees, snivelling and pleading,  if that was what he had to do just for you to look at him again

The moment you let him in though, he just rushes over and captures you in his arms. He would dry your tears as gently as he could, treating you like you were made of glass.

“Куколка, куколка, you know I never mean any of that, right? I’m sorry, sorry, please- please, forgive me? If I kiss it better, will you forgive me, любимый?”

He’s so pathetic. Ask anything of him in this state and he’ll do it without hesitation. Unless it’s staying away physically. He’ll be quiet and let you ignore him but don’t try to push him away or he’ll get whiney. If you stress that it isn’t personal enough, maybe he’ll let it go though.

North Italy - Feliciano Vargas

“Why aren’t I good enough? You always abandon me, like-  like I’m nothing! Why do you hate me!?”

The moment either of you pick a fight, he’s already sobbing. Sure, he can argue with his brother for hours, but you matter to him in a much more vulnerable way. If you’re at all upset with him, he instantly feels like you don’t like him any more.

But when he feels attacked, he attacks just as much. In his subconscious, it’s always easier to push you away than have you abandon him yourself. That doesn’t result in very productive conversations, though.

“You’re just pretending you love me! You’re a liar, I- I know it!”

When you start crying along with him from all the awful things he’s said, two things can happen.

One, he cries harder, interpreting your hurt feelings as being an admittance to what he accused you of. Why would you be crying if it wasn’t from guilt, and why’d he say that when he so dreaded it being true?!

Or two, you’ll tell him about how truly terrible it feels to have him think those things about you, and he’ll snap out of it. His overwhelming emotions make him incredibly selfish at the moment, so he truly hadn’t considered how you felt from all of that.

Then he immediately lowers his voice, giving you plenty of space until you feel up to talking again. 

“Oh… I’m sorry! I didn’t- you wouldn’t do that! I know that, you know that, so just- I’m sorry! Please, forgive me, amore mio dolce!”

He pulls you into a hug immediately, keeping the two of you as close as physically possible as he whispers promise after promise of his love. Until your tears dry, he won’t stop strangling you with unabashed affection, doing anything he can just to get you smiling again.

The feeling of guilt is not something he’s used to. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that he’ll start crying again too.

“If I ever make you feel bad again, please shut me up, please! I can’t take the thought of you so hurt by my words!”

Germany - Ludwig Beilschmidt

“My word should be more than enough for you to shut up already!”

It’s exceedingly rare that he ever loses his temper around you like that. Normally, you’re the one thing that can always calm him down. Just looking at your face makes his chest fill with butterflies, drowning out whatever dark thoughts he’s having.

So, needless to say, he immediately regrets snapping at you. Immediately.

“Wait, no- no, I didn’t mean to say that. I didn’t mean to. It’s not true, just- just stupid, I’m sorry, liebling…”

Whatever you two were arguing about is instantly forgotten as he rushes over to you and takes your face in his hands. It just breaks his heart to see you hurt, much more at his own actions. You don’t have to worry about him taking responsibility, he would never try to dodge the guilt of making you cry.

It’s not the first time he’s lost control, and he knows it’s his fault. But maybe if he takes you in his arms gently enough, rocking you back and forth as you cry into his shoulder, it’ll make it a little easier for you.

But if you just need a silent moment to yourself, that’s perfectly fine too. He’s autistic, so he certainly understands the feeling and will happily provide you with whatever comforting items you request.

“I’m sorry… you didn’t deserve what I said. I love you, please tell me you know that…”

Even if you pretend you weren’t that upset by it, Ludwig wouldn’t let it go like that. If he gets to his breaking point like that, whatever fight you were having is put aside for the night. Now all that matters to him is that the two of you make up and get back into how things were before as soon as possible.

Expect him to be beating himself up for a while though. He just wants you to know how sorry he is, how much he regrets snapping at you, even if it does seem a bit excessive. But he’s just had too many people he cared about leave to not make a whole thing out of it.

Japan - Kiku Honda

“Don’t you have any sense of personal space? You are like- choking me with all of… you! I can’t stand it!”

He’s a logical man. That’s one thing he always tells himself. Never, not even when he’s emotional, does he say things he doesn’t mean. Was the way he said it less than perfect? Yes, of course, he can’t believe he had just acted so impolitely, especially to someone who he cares so much for. But he still… meant what he said.

But, for the first time, as he watches your face break slowly, he’s not so sure of himself. Whether he meant it or not seems suddenly so inconsequential compared to the thought of hurting you. He… upset you? That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Ah- why are you crying? What is wrong? You… you- it will be… alright, you know? You are ok!”

Wait- no, don’t cry more from that! He has absolutely no idea how to comfort you, but if he really has to, he’ll do his best. Although it’s a little difficult for him to resist drawing your hands away from your ears, he’ll do his best to just let you have your process (no matter what that means for you.)

Before you can even hear him coming closer, you’re suddenly drawn into an intimate hug. His hand drawing your head underneath his and kissing the crown of your head so lovingly, it's almost like another person possessed him as he turns so soft just at the sight of your tears

Would his pride usually reject this? Yes, but, it’s certainly not the first time he’s had to put that aside for you.

He’ll sputter generic apologies, purposefully hiding his grimace as he forces himself to forget about whatever you two were arguing about before. Well, at least for now. Most likely he’ll bring it up not long after, but in a much more… non-confrontational way.

“Let us go do something else instead, hm? You’ll only get more upset like this, and I want that as little as you want it.”

On one hand, he’s a little annoyed he had to put aside his own gripes to calm you down. But on the other hand, he hates conflict. Anything that gets you guys back to normal is worth it, especially if otherwise you’ll be crying in his arms. That’s his absolute nightmare.

[alfredosauce50]

Parent headcanons: Alfred, Allen, Matt, & Mathias

When it comes to the trials of adulthood, they have their own ways of getting on top. But parenting is what really puts them to the test. Starting a family and being one of the sole carers for another person will shine a light on the best and worst parts of them.

The big news

Alfred

He has the most normal reaction out of the four. Panic, acceptance, then excitement, he’s finally moving onto the final stages of adulthood and achieving his lifelong dream. Being a suburban dad and getting that white picket fence. It’s not just about liking kids, Alfred is rather traditional when it comes to his values; he has always romanticized the American dream. He already has a good job, all he needs is to make it happen.

“Fuuuuuck,” He whispers, eyes wide as he rakes his hands through his hair. He stands there for a few minutes, staring into space as you watch him tensely for his reaction. “We’re ready to be parents, right?”

Allen

He will freak out. Planned or unplanned, he’s not mentally prepared to be a father. He doesn’t think he’s good enough, but knows deep down he has to be. That’s what really scares him. If he needs to improve himself, it’s now or never. So after a week of panicking and catastrophizing, he’s ready to give himself a second chance — even if it’s for someone else. But his selflessness is key to his perseverance, and eventual success.

“I fucked up,” He squeezes you like a lifeline. It was the only conclusion he could come to after hours of talking about it, the only thing he could ever truly understand. “I fucked up. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Mathias

He’ll be over the moon. He’s gonna be even more excited than you, but that’s kinda given when he doesn’t have to carry the baby and deliver it. Point is, Mathias is very family-oriented, so don’t expect anything less. He’s the most self-affirmed a person can be too, so he’s always ready to move onto the next stage in life. His nurturing character and openness to change will help you immensely in periods of stress and uncertainty.

“I’m so happy that I could cry,” He whispers with his head on your tummy. He’s half-awake after burning out from his own excitement, but his spirit is still in the right place. “We’re finally gonna have a family.”

Matt

Letting you into his life was already a miracle, and now he’s gonna be a dad? This is a human being that he’ll have to be responsible for, not something he can simply tap out of and run away from. Matt is driven by his interests, solitude, and above all else, his freedom. A baby would take away all of those things, and he’s so troubled by it that he disappears for a few weeks. He comes home to a slap, but it’s well-deserved.

“Are you gonna keep hitting me, or are you gonna let me go to my shed?” He sighs, closing his eyes as you keep wailing on him. And he just takes it, absorbing every strike that was your burning love for him.

“Why, so you can keep—” You shove him harshly so that he actually stumbles back. “—hiding from me?”

“No, I’m gonna build a crib and make some toys.”

Parenting style

Alfred

He’s everything you’d expect from a new parent. Freaking out over the little things, screaming when they do something new, burning out after weeks of sleep deprivation, etc. He isn’t perfect, and you’re gonna have to work with him like any other partner, but before you know it, the house is filled with photo frames. He’s your best friend, and sometimes before your partner, so he has a hard time giving and taking. But it’s also why you two will stick together through thick and thin.

Alfred eventually evolves into the archetype of fathers. He takes the backseat and tells his kids, ‘I don’t know, go ask your mother,’ or even gets in trouble for doing stupid things like leaving the toilet seat up. When you just finished yelling at the kids, he comes to them later and goes, ‘someone’s in a bad mood today,’ when he’s just glad it wasn’t him. But when it’s something really serious, he flips like a switch and takes the lead. When that happens, there’s no talking him down.

“Alright gang, ready to get the show on the road?” Alfred rubs his hands together excitedly before he starts the car. “When we get there, I want everyone to be on their best behavior. I’m already on thin ice.”

He has high expectations for his kids. Ever since they popped out, he’s been giving them the best of the best, like nice clothes, family trips, sports leagues, and dance. He also wants them to go to a prestigious university in the future and to do all the things he might have missed out on. Cue the ‘that’s your dream, not mine, dad!’ Alfred can be hard on his children when it comes to success, so you need to remind him they’ve got minds of their own and are not carbon copies of him.

He says he prefers sons until he gets a daughter. Alfred is an absolute sweetheart to his girls, and is way more lenient with them than his boys. He doesn’t mean to play favorites, but it’s just how he’s wired. However, it also means being quite strict and protective when they get to that age. No drinking and no sleepovers with boys present. Men are all animals according to him. But dad, aren’t you a man? Exactly! He’s the pioneer of ‘anything you do to my daughter, I do to you.’

Allen

He tried his absolute best to prepare, but it starts off a disaster. What can go wrong will go wrong. The baby gets sick, you’re away on urgent family business, so he needs to do it all without you. Allen stays in hospital with the baby overnight, and slowly, but surely, they get better. He ends up neglecting himself to put his child’s needs first, and by the time you get back, he’s burning up with a fever. But the baby is perfectly content and sleeping soundly in the crib because of him.

He wants the best for his family, even if it means sacrificing everything he has. He understands his limits, but there’s nothing he won’t do to make sure his kid gets every opportunity he never had. Sports, college, you name it. If everybody in class has branded sneakers, he’ll buy a pair just so they don’t feel left out. He’s always proud of his baby, and if anybody tried to bully them, they’ll have to answer to him. Allen sees the best of him in his child, but usually fails to see it in himself.

“You can have my egg. I’m not hungry, baby.” Allen says, sliding his plate to his little girl. He knows that you won’t be back with the groceries for an hour or so, and no kids are going hungry on his watch.

Allen doesn’t think there’s a particular way of parenting because no one child is the same. So long as they do their homework, get out under the sun, and have a good attitude, the rest is to be decided. If his child needs extra support, he’ll give it to them, and if they need a reality check, he’ll give that to them too. He reminds them how hard life can be without stability, so they should take their future seriously, but at the same time, he’s always gonna be there to give them a home.

Nobody would mess with his kids after one look at him. He’s an ex-marine without the ‘ex.’ His daughter will have trouble finding a boyfriend to begin with because of him, and when she finally does, they’re gonna have to gain his respect to be trusted with looking after his little girl. If his son ever gets into a fight, he’ll ask if he won then whoop his ass later. And in the principle’s office, he’s giving the other kid the worst stink-eye ever. He’s the dad that could beat up the other dads.

Mathias

He’s a total natural; all is well when the baby is in his care. He may be all over the place, but when he really cares about something, he’s in a constant state of hyper focus. The baby will always be clean, well-fed, and happy, so don’t worry about a thing. There’s also no such thing as 50/50 with Mathias. He knows that there will be times when one person has to take the lead. It’s not in his nature to keep track of who’s giving and taking the most. He’s too mature for that.

It’s like experiencing a second childhood for him. Reading picture books, fairytales, playing with legos, or going to places he went to as a kid, he treats parenthood as a chance to relive his best memories and love every second of it. He will never miss a parent event, performance, and appointment. His dedication makes him very perceptive of his child, so he always knows what to do or say to cheer them up. As they grow up, they maintain a very close relationship to him.

“We wanna go to Legoland!”

“You mean, you wanna go to Legoland,” You laugh at him, “I heard you talking to Bjorn about it last night.”

“That’s so he can make an informed decision, of course,” Mathias grins, not showing a hint of shame as he shuffles over with his phone on the home page of the Legoland site. “So I take that it’s decided?”

He’s a great parent, but he’s by no means strict. All he wants is for them to have a fighting chance in the world, like doing a job that they enjoy. He’s great at communicating with his kids and has a lot of compassion, which takes them a long way. He’s never had to discipline them besides setting boundaries and occasionally grounding them. You rule the home with a firmer hand, and maybe that’s why your kids respect you more but treat him more like a friend than a parent sometimes.

Mathias doesn’t bat an eye when his kids first start dating. He’s always been quite liberal, so he just tells them to be careful about the birds and the bees, then to talk to him if things get testy. The one thing he’ll do is to ensure they have high standards. Love is life’s reward, not something to cry yourself to sleep about. Eventually, he’ll invite their date over for dinner, and as it turns out, he’d be a great father in law. He’s very welcoming and treats any future Densens like one of his own.

Matt

He’s a trial-by-error, improvise as you go along kinda dad. He hasn’t put much thought into the trials of childcare, but he always works things out in his own way. If the bub keeps crying because they don’t want to be bottle-fed by him, he will cover his face with a picture of you. Easy-peasy. If they’re crawling around the bed, he will use them as a mousepad as he scrolls on his laptop. That way, he gets some leisure time while making sure they don’t actually go anywhere.

Matt is the opposite to a helicopter parent. When his kid trips and face plants into the ground, he doesn’t react. The trick is to not acknowledge it, because only then will they cry. He isn’t afraid to let them explore the world and gain their own agency. It’s good for them, he says. Some part of you thinks he just wants them to grow up quicker so he doesn’t have to take care of them anymore, but there’s always those special little moments.

“How about I teach you how to drive the truck?” Matt asks, walking back home with the family.

“He’s eleven.” You remark.

“Is that a problem?”

He’s all about the family business. If his children don’t want to go fishing and logging with him, fine, but if they show even the slightest bit of interest, he’s bought. Matt will be more than eager to show them the ropes. He takes them on camping trips to show them the beauty of the great outdoors, and the humility it takes to be apart of it. The art of it all is there’s no problem that can’t be solved, and even a rugged man like him can be domesticated by the right person.

If his daughter got a boyfriend, he’d be waiting at home with a shotgun. Matt will then play it off like he just got back from a hunting trip. He��s the type to use silent intimidation, and it works like a charm. If not, he’ll tell jerks to get off his lawn even though he doesn’t have one, and when they ask what lawn, he’ll just say “all of it.” What he means is to get out of his sight and the woods, which is the lawn he’s talking about. (Ha!) On the flip side, he’s nice to girls his son brings home.

Losing the spark

Alfred

He has a tendency to let himself go when he gets comfortable. This usually happens when his first kid reaches their teenage years and he can afford to sit back now that they can do their own thing. He’s established a stable family unit, but he takes that for granted and gets a little lazy. As a result, he packs on a few pounds and tries less in the relationship. He’s not as attractive as he used to be, and you’re having more petty arguments.

“Why do I feel like you hate me?” He watches you mop the kitchen after you told him to do it. Only he delayed it to sit around on his phone and eat crisps. Even then, he still has the nerve to be upset about it.

“I don’t hate you, I’m just annoyed at you.”

“But you’re annoyed with me everyday.”

Allen

Losing the spark? Not on his watch! He never stops trying, ever, and keeps chasing you like when he first started dating you. His stability doesn’t come from money, it comes from you. You’re his rock, and nothing else matters so long as you’re here. He’s the epitome of ‘you know how daddy is about mommy,’ and he’s proud of it. He also takes great care of his body, and with his good genes, he practically ages backwards.

“You better wear that button-down shirt tonight, Al. A tank top isn’t gonna cut it,” You tell him.

“You callin’ me a deadbeat?” He questions.

“No, but you dress like one.”

“I thought you liked my clothes, babe.”

“I do, but the teachers won’t.”

“True that.” He fixes his collar in front of a mirror. He peers at his reflection, marveling at how well he cleaned up. A dress shirt and belt? He’s practically unrecognizable — until he grins, that is. “Still got it.”

Mathias

He’s always gonna be young at heart, so his spirit never dies. His love for you is as constant as a river, and he’s not afraid of putting on a show for the kids to the point they get a little disgusted. (Ew!) He doesn’t think he’d ever be too old for romance, and his good faith shows up in how gracefully he ages. He might occasionally grow out a thick beard, and when he shaves it off, he looks devastating close to when he was younger.

“Are we ever gonna be alone again?” He mumbles, pouting. His thirtieth birthday is coming up, but he hasn’t changed a bit, save for the more pronounced smile lines around his mouth. “I need some love too.”

“We will, Mat. I just don’t feel comfortable leaving the baby alone right now,” You shake your head.

“We could call Amy and have a date night.”

“I don’t know, Mat.”

“I’ll shave off my beard.”

“Huh?”

“You wouldn’t say no to me without a beard.”

Matt

The longer he’s with you, the harder he loves. His feelings don’t change when things get hard, or as time passes. They just get stronger. In that same breath, he also ages like wine. In the end, he ends up being the bigger romantic. He used to be a lone wolf, and he thought he was okay with it, but now that he has you, he can’t imagine his life without you. To think you actually stuck around and gave him a chance, he’ll never forget that.

“Wanna go back inside and do it?” He mutters.

“You’re disgusting, Matt.” You walk inside without sparing him a single glance. No matter how old he gets, he’ll always have a mouth on him. No matter how old you get, you’ll always forgive him for it.

“Is that a no?”

“Make me dinner and let me think about it.”

“Deal.”

[yawujin]

good morning beautiful , hope your having a good day <3

may i plz request headcanons with the Allies with a girl reader who is romanric and lovey dovey, all the headcanons i read are about them doing things for the reader and them being lovely,

but how about their girlfriend giving them a flower, surprising them with a home cooked dinner, pepper them in kisses, calling them the most beautiful thing she has ever seen

(where my romantic girls at?)

btw happy early valentine's day, wishing you and your man the best<3

thanks anon!! this is a cute idea 🤍

{ request } allies x romantic!reader ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

ⓘ female reader , she/her pronouns , romantic relationship , light hearted , reader is a hopeful romantic , domestic(?)(kinda)

read part two here!!

america/alfred f. jones ♡

likes it the most when his girl calls him the special nicknames she made up for him

likes it even more when she calls him a good boy WHEW 😮‍💨

the other nations that are friends with america are wondering what all she does to make him feel so happy

seriously, ever since they became a couple─he seemingly hasn't had one bad day. he is almost always seen smiling, more than usual

she shows her appreciation for america, and seeing him happy is what makes it worth it for her

england/arthur kirkland ♡

it always a relief when england comes home and finds her cooking something up for the both of them to eat

i believe that it is possible for england to cook some things but...yk

his girl insists that she cooks most of their meals, as well as baking some of his favorite desserts

he's not complaining, he thoroughly enjoys everything she makes. and of course, is able to show his gratitude for everything she does for him

one of his favorite things she does for him is tie his tie in the mornings just before he heads off to work.

she's so cute, bedhead and all, tying it with a smile and sending him off with a kiss

it's simple but england loves it

france/francis bonnefoy ♡

france loves loves LOVES it when she wears a lipstick with a pretty color and smudges it by leaving kiss marks all over his face.

when she surprises france by getting him a bouquet of flowers for a change, he doesn't miss the chance to pick one from the bouquet and place it in her hair, that way they can share the moment 🎀

he tries not to let it show too much, but, when she describes him as "magnificent" or "radiant", he gets really flustered

canada/matthieu williams ♡

she shows her love for her boyfriend, canada, by supporting him in every way she can

being there for him when he needs emotional support, helping him feel seen by considering him in each of her decisions, cleaning his glasses for him when his shirt is the wrong texture

it's the least she can do, and canada knows this, but he appreciates her greatly for everything she does

russia/ivan braginski ♡

she cuddles with him everytime he has had a long day and he needs his girlfriend to hold him

she lets russia vent about all the people who are...not his favorites to be around without judgement

she causes him to be extremely flustered in certain ways, unpredictably, to keep him on his toes ;)

she ruffles his hair to tease him and tells him that he'll be okay. she says that he is strong, and that's all russia needs to get through the work week

china/yao wang ♡

the best thing china says she can do for him is help him wind down after a long day...to which she says: challenge accepted

but it really is no challenge at all!

she enjoys sitting by him at the end of the day, it's quiet but it's nice

together they share a light meal and some tea she made

they kiss to pass the time, head to their bedroom and kiss some more...

the night ends with them in each other's arms, china squeezing his girlfriend tight, counting his blessings inside of his head as he slowly falls asleep.

[noelletronics]

Welcome Home, General (Hetalia Alfred F. Jones x Reader)

(This is NSFW! MDNI!)

(cw: Breeding, Marathon sex, really REALLY needy Alfred, he just came home from a mission in the military and he is STARVING for pussy, established relationship)

It’s just past 1:00 AM when the door unlocks. No one hears it, not even you. Because you’re fast asleep on the couch, wrapped in a throw blanket, face softened in the pale glow of the paused movie on your TV. A half-finished mug of tea sits cold on the coffee table. The room smells like vanilla and home. 

And Alfred? Alfred’s standing in the doorway, duffel bag at his feet, breath gone. You weren’t supposed to know he was coming home tonight. He was supposed to arrive in the morning, let you know he landed. Walk through the door with flowers and some dumb grin like everything was normal.

But now, seeing you there like this… peaceful, curled up in one of his old t-shirts, your bare legs tangled in the blanket, mouth slightly parted? He snaps. He doesn’t call your name. Doesn’t clear his throat.

He drops the bag. Kicks the door shut. And stalks toward you like a man possessed. You stir slightly as his heavy boots thud against the floor, but it isn’t until he’s yanking the blanket off your body that your eyes flutter open.

“Alfie…?”

He’s already on you. His hands are everywhere. Dragging your thighs apart, grabbing your hips, hauling you upward until you’re seated, dazed, against the couch cushions. You barely have time to gasp before his mouth is on yours. Hot. Open. Claiming. No “I missed you.” No “I’m home.”

Just raw, unfiltered need.

“Couldn’t wait,” he growls against your lips. “Fuck… couldn’t fucking wait another second.”

He tears your panties down with one hand, already rutting against you, still mostly clothed. Tactical pants half-unzipped, belt clinking loose, groaning when he feels how ready you are beneath him.

“You were waiting for me. Always so warm for me, baby… fuck.”

“Alfred, I-ah-!”

You try to speak, but he’s already sliding into you in one hard, deep thrust, and you swear you see stars. You clutch at his shirt, his hair, whatever you can grab as he starts moving without hesitation. Fast, rough, possessive. Each snap of his hips slams into you like he’s trying to bury months of longing in your skin. His forehead drops to yours, sweat dripping, voice wrecked.

“Thought about this every fucking night… This pretty little cunt. My girl. My home. You’re mine.”

Your moans echo through the dark, your back arching as he thrusts harder. Deeper .His hands gripping your thighs to keep you exactly where he needs you. The couch creaks violently. The TV light flickers behind you. And all you feel is him. Filling you. Ruining you. Loving you in the only language his body knows right now: desperation. You tighten around him, gasping his name, and he snarls, low and dangerous.

“You gonna come for me already? Huh, baby? Been so good while I was gone. Don’t hold back now. Fucking give it to me.”

And when you do - shuddering, crying out his name, nails dragging down his back - he loses it. His mouth crashes to yours in a bruising kiss, hips slamming deep as he spills inside you with a broken growl, burying his whole body against yours like he wants to disappear into you entirely.

Your limbs are still tangled with his on the couch.

The sweat hasn’t dried. His cum is still dripping from between your thighs, your body thrumming with the aftershocks of round one.

But Alfred’s not done. He stares down at you like he’s been starving for months. and one taste wasn’t enough. Not even close.

“Get in the shower,” he mutters, voice gravel, thumb brushing over the bruise he left on your hip. You blink, still breathless.

“Alfie…?”

“Now.”

He stands. Drags you up with him. Doesn’t even give you time to fully catch your balance before he's walking you backwards into the bathroom, naked, wrecked, and already throbbing between your legs again. The lights stay off. 

Steam curls around you the moment he turns the water on, pressing your back to the cold tile while the heat builds in the air and in his eyes. He looks down at you like he doesn’t trust himself to speak. Then-

He grabs your jaw, tilts your face up, and kisses you hard.

“One round wasn’t enough,” he groans into your mouth. “I didn’t get my fill.”

You gasp as he drops to his knees in the steam. He spreads your legs with his shoulders. Presses you into the wall like an offering. Then he eats you. Desperate. Loud. Filthy. Tongue sliding through your slit, licking up his own cum like he wants it back. Groaning like it’s not enough to have been inside you. He needs you screaming his name again.

“Still so wet,” he pants. “Still fucking mine.”

You fist his hair, back arching, thighs shaking, but before you can even finish, before the orgasm can leave your lips, he’s standing again. And he’s already lining himself up. You try to speak-

“Condom-”

“No.”

He pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other gripping your thigh, hiking it up around his waist.

“I’m going in raw,” he growls. “You think I came home to feel less of you?”

You barely manage to moan before he thrusts into you again, fully, without pause. You cry out, the tile scraping your spine, the water pounding down around you as his hips slam into you, skin to skin, no barrier this time.

“I need to come inside you for real,” he grits out, pounding into you. “Need it deep. Need to fucking breed you, baby.”

“Alfred… fuck-!”

“I wanna ruin you for anyone else. You get that?” His teeth scrape your neck. “Wanna leave you leaking for days. Wanna fill you up so bad you feel me every time you move.”

You’re barely hanging on, moaning into the steam, trembling as he drives into you relentlessly. No tenderness, just pure need and possession. His dog tags slap against your chest, water cascading off his back, your fingers locked in his wet hair, both of you slipping further into something primal.

“You gonna take all of me again?” he groans.

“Gonna let me come inside you raw and keep it this time?”

“Yes! Yes, Alfred… please…”

And he slams in deep, grinding, staying there as he bursts, gasping curses into your neck, biting down hard as your second orgasm hits like a tidal wave, clenching around him and dragging every last drop from his body. You both collapse, sliding slowly down the wall, his arms holding you in place as water washes over your tangled, shaking bodies. His forehead presses to yours.

“That wasn’t even close to enough.”

You smile, ruined and glowing.

“Then don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. Your back is pressed to the steamy tile, your skin raw and your thighs trembling. You’ve already come - twice? Three times? You’ve lost count. Your legs barely work. But Alfred isn’t slowing down. He’s still hard, inside you. Still holding your hips in a bruising grip, his cock sliding deep again and again, the sound of wet, filthy skin-on-skin echoing beneath the rush of the shower. Your fingers claw into his slick shoulders, trying to anchor yourself.

“Alfie… please! I can’t…”

He cuts you off with a low growl.

“Yes, you fucking can.”

His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, not to comfort — but to keep you still as he leans in and murmurs filth against your mouth.

“Matter of fact,” he pants, voice hoarse and twisted with heat, “We’re not sleeping tonight. Not till I’m sure. Not till it takes. Not till I know I’ve got my baby in you.”

Your body jolts, a mix of fear and pure molten want cascading down your spine.

“A-Alfred…”

He thrusts deeper, tilting your hips just right, hitting the spot that makes you cry out… That makes your knees buckle, and his expression turns feral.

“You feel that?” he growls. “That’s where it needs to go. That’s where I’m gonna keep pumping it in. Again. And again. Until this tight little cunt does its job and takes all of me.”

You're gasping. Breathless, trembling, dripping, but clinging to him.

“You're shaking,” he breathes against your ear, lips curling.

“Is that fear, baby? Or excitement?”

You can’t even answer. Your voice is gone. Only broken moans and whispered pleads and the sound of him ruining you.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to choose. You’re gonna give it to me anyway. Even if you cry. Even if you scream.”

He bites down gently on your shoulder. And he fucks you harder.

You can’t stop the way your body responds. The way you arch into it, into him, sobbing his name, your walls fluttering around his cock like you’re begging for it.

“That’s it,” he hisses. “That’s my girl. You’re made for this. For me.”

His fingers move to your stomach, splayed across the soft skin just below your navel.

“Right here,” he groans. “You’re gonna swell with me. Gonna carry proof of what we did tonight. And every time you look in the mirror, you’ll remember who fucking owns you.”

You come again.

It’s not graceful. It’s not quiet. It’s wild and wet and primal, body convulsing around him as he groans deep in his chest.

“Fuck… Gonna fill you again …Every last drop.”

And he does. Presses in deep, holds you tight, and unloads like he’s branding you with it. You’re barely conscious by the time he kisses you again - all tongue, no gentleness. And then he whispers against your lips:

“One more time, baby. Still not done. Not till I know it took.”

And he lifts your leg again. Still hard. Still desperate. Still not finished with you.

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

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

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

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

America (Alfred F. Jones)

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

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

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

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

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

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

Russia (Ivan Braginsky)

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

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

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

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

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

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

England (Arthur Kirkland)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Canada (Matthew Williams)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[worldheadcanons]

☆ receiving a kind note!

requested by anon! fem, sister to al & mattie!reader. starring . . . america, russia, & canada. fandom masterlist found here. 📌 . . . author notes: al + mattie’s parts are familial, ivan’s is open to interpretation! i don’t usually write familial stuff but this was really fun to think of. sorry if i butchered canadian hiking culture, also.

alfred f. jones!

— he’s not surprised to see a note from his little sister taped loosely onto his chair. it’s something you’d done forever, ever since you first learned how to write. you were fascinated with leaving little notes and messages for others to read. it was a cute habit and still is now that you’re older. setting down his briefcase, he picks up the note and gives it a read.

— “hey, al! i hope your meeting goes well today. i was thinking for lunch we could go to that burger place we both liked, but i wouldn’t mind eating whatever you’re in the mood for. just text me what you’d like. i know that meetings aren’t the most fun but try to pitch your best ideas. i love you, see you at lunch! P.S. you’ve got to stop leaving your socks all over the house, i’m tired of picking them up! — your super sidekick sister!”

— after reading, he just chuckles to himself. yeah, that’s his little sidekick, for sure. thoughtful, energetic.. he takes out his phone right away to text you the details for lunch. “i’m feeling hotdogs today, actually. care for a chili dog instead? side note, my socks are NOT all over the house. just all over my room.”

— your reply is almost immediate. unlike alfred, you don’t have a busy schedule. there were no huge meetings to attend considering you were a micronation. “chili dogs sound good :) i’ll come by at lunch to pick you up!”. after a few moments, you sent another text, “also, your socks are EVERYWHERE. i’m your sister, not your maid!”

— he rolls his eyes, hearting the first message before replying to the second one. “alright, alright. don’t go all arthur on me.” with that, he shoves his phone into his pocket. other countries were starting to trickle in so he had to wipe the smile off of his face. still, the whole meeting seemed to be less torturous after having a nice conversation with his sister.

ivan braginsky!

— oh? what’s this? a message from alfred’s little sister.. ivan’s surprised by the appearance of a cute note on his chair. he knows it’s from you because he’s seen how you leave notes for others. never did he imagine you’d leave one for him, though… he thought for sure that alfred would’ve forbid you from such a thing. then again, you’re his sister, not his prisoner.

— “to mr. braginsky. i’ve heard a lot about you from my brother, but i’ve yet to meet you in person. let’s change that! if you’re interested, i’d like to meet up with you after this meeting and go out for lunch. i’m fine with anything. don’t worry about al! he’s triple booked with meetings today, so he won’t see us. i eagerly await the chance to acquaint ourselves!”

— his brows furrow as he reads. this could definitely be fake. alfred could be luring him into a sort of trap, waiting for him to take the bait. the penmanship is definitely similar to the loud american’s, as is the type of speech.

— even so… would he ever go through all that trouble, just to get the jump on an enemy? they could easily fight out in the open; no one would mind. ivan takes the sticky note, folds it in half and slips it into his pocket. the meeting starts but his mind is still on the message. it’s rare for anyone to be interested in him all on their own. perhaps he should go for it. ah, the more he thinks, the more it vexes him. if it’s causing such a headache, maybe he should ignore the note…

— he leaves the meeting quickly, grabbing his things and heading out the door. with each step, he becomes more convinced. ignore the note and go straight home. ignore the note and go straight home. ignore the note and — oh? on the way out the building, though, he spots a young woman busy on her phone — you. without thinking, he walks over, asking if you’re alfred’s sister. when you say yes, you smile at him. a big, radiant smile, one that’s actually for him… he’s glad he didn’t ignore the note after all.

matthew williams!

— the notes that you leave really brighten his day, even if he doesn’t often say it. you’re one of the few people who notices him and asks him things; you ask about his day, you care about the things that excite him — sure, you might be annoying at times, but so is alfred. he doesn’t love either of you any less for it. that’s just having siblings.

— all that to say, his eyes light up as soon as he sees the familiar sight of a sticky note stuck to the meeting table, right where he sits. he’s one of the first countries to make it into the room, though it’s not like he has to be careful in reading the note. there are some benefits to not being noticeable.

— “mattie! don’t forget, we have that trail we’re walking in between your morning and afternoon meetings! i took the liberty of finding a good trail. we’ll be hiking up the hamilton falls trail, since you’re always talking about taking me hiking in your home country anyways. it says online that it’s only thirty minutes round trip, so you’ll probably be fine! — your sister!”

— oh! hiking in between meetings… you did bring up the idea a few days ago when you noticed that the next few world meetings would be stationed in canada (this was after you begged him to let you come with). he didn’t say no then but he hadn’t said yes either. but.. could it really hurt? this time of year was a good time to see the waterfall, anyways, if you’re careful about the mud.

— you know what? hell yeah. it’s not like anyone will care if he comes in clean in a suit or messy from hiking. he takes out his phone and sends you a short text. “can’t wait to go hiking with you :)”. who cares what anyone else thought? he’s gonna have a fun time with his sister.

[milaisreading]

Y/N: Can you guys please do something for me? *Giving them a cute face.*

*The Hetalia guys are blushing.* The countries: Anything for you. What is it?

Y/N: Can you guys help me to hide a dead body?

Italy, not even bothering to listen: Let me help you, bella!

Germany, calculating in his head how to make the body disappear: Alright, I need gloves,bleach, a bathtub, acid...

Japan, after debating in his head for a moment: Let me call my good old friends.

Yn: Who?

Japan: The Yakuza

America: Alright there, dudette! You hero will go a shovel a hole and you go and think of an alibi!

Canada,after his soul traveled around the globe and came back to him: Alright... I know a place where there is a lot of ice and snow right now

England: Consider that a done job, love. After I am done with it we could maybe grab some food-

France, covering his mouth while looking excitedly at Yn: I will do that, cherie! Then WE can go and have a quiet dinner!

Yn, sweatdropping as they start fighting: You two...

China: Aiya! None of you are old or experienced enough to hide dead bodies, let me do that.

Yn, bow more worried: E-experienced?! You did this before?

China: How do you think did I get rid of your suitors?

Yn: My what?!

China: Not important.

Russia: I will call on a few people I know. Don't worry, sunflower, you won't be suspected even for a second :)

Yn: T-thanks, Russia-

Russia: But, just to make sure, you should stay at my house for a while

The rest of twb group: NO! ARE YOU INSANE?!

Yn, while the others are arguing:... Denmark will pay for this dare...

[sparks-and-wires]

Eh, might as well drop this in

Can I ask for general dating headcanons for 1P America and Prussia (separately, ofc)? Preferably with a fem!reader

My tired brain couldn’t think of anything else, but it may be good to start off with general dating headcanons for my best boys. Thank you, Spark! 💖

Yeah, sure bestie! Though I make my stuff pretty gender neutral, hope that's ok.

America General Dating Headcanons

⭐ The type to gush about his partner when prompted. Arthur made the mistake of asking about you one time and Alfred talked so much about you that even Bonnefoy would be worried. They can't even call it puppy love, it's like he's memorized everything about you.

⭐ He's ready to fight anyone who ever says a bad thing about you, 'the hero' doesn't see flaws unless it slaps him in the face. He's the type to always see something positive in his partners even despite a person's hardships, or physical and mental capabilities. Anyone who questions his reality of you is probably at the very least, going to be screeched at. It really depends on how long they egg him on for.

⭐ "Mr. Brightside"/"Mr. Silver Lining". He has a habit out of strategically trying to find a positive in every bad situation. It starts raining on a day he planned a beach trip? Guess you're going to have to sit through a musical number from the 1952 classic "Singing in the Rain" while this fool dances with an umbrella. Please stop him before a crowd gathers, it'll just spur him on.

⭐ Clingy to an annoying degree. While he's fine by himself most of the time, he still craves attention. Until he learns your personal boundaries and schedule, he can get in the way of a lot of your daily activities. Private time is something you have to ask for.

⭐ Like always, he wants to be seen as a hero, so he might put himself into some dangerous situations just to get praise from you. This man will literally take a bullet for you, please stop him from putting himself into that position.

⭐ The first to apologize after an argument, even if he feels like he's in the right. He really doesn't want to mess up in his relationship over something he'd consider 'stupid'.

⭐ Due to his broad interests, he's open to a lot of date ideas. Whether it's staying home to watch a movie together, going to an arcade, or even hiking, he's up for it.

⭐ Just let him know ahead of time if you can't handle scary movies, like make it 100% clear you don't want to see them, because he may try to rope you into watching them like he's done with Kiku in the past. Trust me, listening to him freak out over the movie is honestly more nerve wracking than the actually movie.

⭐ If you're the type to hyperfixate on things, you now have someone to rant to. He's ready to listening to you talk about stuff even if he doesn't entirely understand it. Just be open to listen to him rant at ten times the frequency about the things he likes however childish they may be at times.

⭐ The nosey boyfriend. He gets into your stuff, checks your social media posts when your out with other people, and calls you a lot when he's not working to see what you're up to.

⭐ Tries to be romantic, fails at it, nerdy edition. He really does try to take you out 'nontypical' romantic locations, like a planetarium. Yet he nerds out so much over stars and constellations it translates more as 'cute' rather than overly romantic.

Prussia General Dating Headcanons

🐤 The type to brag about his partner to anyone who would listen, his brother being the one to hear the most. It's to the point where Ludwig wouldn't be able to sit through a family dinner without you coming up at least once in conversation.

🐤 If you live with him, chores are split 50/50, he likes a clean home. He's set aside hours of the day where he just cleans his home, so it's best to either plan around that, or move to another room to stay out of the way. It's not that he wouldn't accept help, but he acts and says he doesn't really need it.

🐤 The type to stop arguments from happening by pulling the 'agree to disagree' card, or at the very least try to explain his views in a nice way if you haven't enraged him somehow. Always open to compromise. As much as he likes to start fights with other nations, he's not about to start that with you. You're supposed to be on the same side after all.

🐤 Hope that you like birds, since he's pretty attached to his. The bird may try to land on you, perch on your shoulder, talk to you (chirp at you), or simply rest near you on. You may want to start carrying birdseed with you.

🐤 Extremely confrontational with others. He only gives people one warning not to insult to you before he physically hurts someone or publicly humiliates them. He really doesn't see an issue with getting in other people's face about their treatment of you. He doesn't care what the person's problem is, if they don't stop, they're going to be dealing with a very pissed off eastern German man.

🐤 He's actually more socially awkward for not trying to pursue romance until now. Sure he says he's awesome at everything but he's spent most of his life until now dodging marriage and fighting other nations. You can't expect him to be perfect, especially since the closest thing he's experienced to it is playing the 'big brother' role. He's just been really lonely until you came along, and he's certainly not going to know how to process it fully until later on.

🐤 I'm pretty sure you're going to find him splayed out on the floor taking apart a microwave or even a car at least once in your relationship. His interests in mechanical engineering will come into play anytime he becomes too bored. He likes knowing how the mechanics of devices work, just hope he knows how to put it back together before you'll need to use it again.

🐤 If you ask about his own history (given that you know he's a nation) he's going to give you a less factual and more abridged "I have always been awesome" version. If you want something more reliable, try his diaries, you can read between the lines more easily (and it's not like he won't let you read them if you ask).

🐤 Outwardly ignores when other people flirts with him (not that they would do that very often), he knows he's awesome but he has an almost equally awesome partner already and he isn't going to settle for less than you. (Though he'd give anyone who flirts with you a death glare because he's literally right there.)

🐤 Picky eater, if he's not cooking, it's more likely that he'll talk Bonnefoy into cooking for both of you. Honestly though, he'll say you're a great cook even if you cook simple things.

[roseydoom]

Give and You Shall Receive

【America x F! Reader】

Note: Hi there! It's been years since I have actually written smut with my last being Haikyuu in an old blog HAHAHAHAHA

So in line with Valentine's Day (definitelynotgoingbacktomyroots), I made this. Idk why. I think I just miss writing shit like this. I hope you guys enjoy this though!

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Warning: NSFW, MINORS DNI, super consensual, unprotected sex, i did not proof read this so be warned, i was sleepy writing a lot of these parts

Word count: 4k

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Summary: Alfred has always been the receiver during intimacy. As much as Alfred likes his hold on you during intimacy, he felt like he was being unfair to you. You give him all the pleasure he wants, but what about you? Do you find pleasure alone by just giving or would you like to receive more than what you already have?

Alfred believes that both halves in a relationship should be able to give what they both need. He is aware, though, that a relationship isn't always fifty-fifty or fair at times, but that doesn't stop him from trying. The blond is used to being the giver in his previous relationships. He really learned the hard way that he shouldn't always be the provider—how his partners shouldn't treat him as a doormat or as an emotional punching bag. Sure, he's not as nice and patient as his brother, but it doesn't mean that he isn't conscious of how he delivers himself to his partners. He wants to make sure that whoever his partner was is comfortable with him, which became a part of his downfall through his relationships; they try to push their narratives while not considering on how overwhelming their stories and experiences can be. It became awfully normal to him that he rarely finds himself in an adequate space in the relationship. His ego and pride were already as loud as it is outside, so he tries to keep it down when it comes to his own private affairs.

When you and Alfred first started officially going out half a year ago, it was a bit of a shock to him on how you approach dating. You always, always, put him first before everything else. Alfred noticed that you started listening to the same music as him right away and even learned about the artists. You would learn his favorite dishes, even bought yourself a decent griller so you both can grill burgers together at your place. You surprised him by getting along with his friends and understanding the schedule he had for you, himself, his friends, and his family. You never doted on him, but your efforts to make sure that he was comfortable in all aspect never went unnoticed. Even during intimacy, you insist on taking the reigns to make sure he is comfortable and satisfied.

Alfred knows that he is loved and will be loved by you, he is aware of that. It's just that he worries about how well he is reciprocating your efforts. You never showed any signs of neediness or a clingy side towards him. Despite your words of affirmation that he is doing enough for you, Alfred still thinks that he isn't doing enough for you. Are you satisfied with his goofiness and interesting sense of valor? Or do you feel like there is something lacking within the relationship? He feels secure with you, but he wonders if you feel the same security with him.

Tonight, Alfred is determined to show you that he can give as much as you give to him.

His determination really took you by surprise as he caressed your arms before holding your hands. The gentle low tone of his voice gave you goosebumps as he kissed your knuckles and said, "I really want to show you how much I adore and love you."

Your ears grow red as he leads you to his bedroom. The dusty blue walls, a rearrangeable block shelf filled with his niche interests, and a few framed posters had his charm written all over the place. You noticed the empty spots in his room were now filled with things you had brought over whenever you stayed there. A mocha bean bag chair with a tall mushroom lamp sat in the corner of his room with a cow-printed rug underneath it. Next to it was the L-shaped desk you both shared with both of your gaming setups—his color scheme complementing yours. A bookshelf next to the walk-in closet had your own interests and vinyl records you collected, some even framed on the wall by the American's DIY skills.

It never occurred to you that your own touch had left him an impact on how he would rearrange his safe space—how willing he is to make space for you.

Alfred gently pushes you to sit down on the bed, keeping eye contact with you. The quiet creak of the bed made your heart race a bit faster as the anticipation swelled in you. He pushes a tress of your hair behind your ear before he cages over you. He holds you gently by the chin, making you tilt your head a bit higher for him, and stares into your eyes for a while.

"Pretty..." He murmurs, taking his glasses off before kissing you.

You shut your eyes. You wrap your left arm around his neck while your right hand is placed gently against his chest. He cages over your figure as you carefully lay on the bed, pulling him closer.

His kisses have always been gentle and sweet, but you can feel a sudden shift in his mood. There was a sense of urgency in his kiss—rough and heated, but not forced. You didn't resist it. You welcome this new feeling of his against your body. His rough hands all over your body, caressing you with a bit of strength in his touch—sensual pinches as his hand smoothened up on your thighs. Excitement starts to pool in your core as his hand hikes higher and higher into your shorts.

Your eyes flutter open as he pulls away from the kiss. Breathless and in a daze, you grab the hem of his jeans to unbuckle his belt, but he stops you. You gasp as he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head.

"Is there anything that you don't want me to do?" The stare of his baby blue eyes flicker with curiosity.

"What do you mean?"

"I won't do anything to you that you don't like." He tilts his head. "I want to make you feel good, like, as good as you make me feel."

He traces his nose against your neck, making you shiver with this sort of anticipation. You can't help, but return the same level of curiosity back. How he touches you so sensually and gently while having this hold over you just makes your heart race faster. You grip your hands as trails his tongue against your neck; then he starts nipping on your neck gently.

"Do you want me to go on?" His hot breath against yout neck.

Your breath hitches as his palm press against your abdomen sliding them towards the hem of your shorts—ghosting his fingers below your navel. You fidget with your fingers as you feel a bit ticklish from his hands just a fingertip away from the garter of your shorts. You rub your thighs together as he starts sucking your neck. The toe curling anticipation on what he could do next made you weak. He began to suck on one spot on your neck as he hums a reminder for you to answer his question.

You try your best to not moan out your answer—try your best to keep it together and not get too excited. His hands crawl up inside your shirt, unhooking your bra before he starts playing with your breasts. The slow massage of his hands was neither too strong nor too gentle. The amount of pressure he applies on you was just right—just enough for you to feel the heat and the heaviness of your own need. He pinches your nipples and gives them a little flick, before one of his hands returns to giving your lower regions more teasing. The returnee to your lower region teasingly slips into the hem of your pajama shorts—ghosting over your navel once again, but he moves lower and lower. You prayed to the good lord to refrain you from saying anything, but you no longer had control. You answer him with a breathy, "God, yes."

You let out a small whine as the cheeky bastard pulls away with a chuckle. Alfred tilts his head cutely at you, studying your rosy expression. He didn't know that you could get so heated up like this. Your eyes in a daze, your hair in a mess, your chest rising up and down heavily, and your neck covered with a few hickeys and a very prominent one just between your collar and neck. He licks his lips as he takes his shirt off and throws it to the side. He then proceeds to slip your shorts off along with your underwear, slowly moving backwards. The sense of anticipation was now turning into impatience. Alfred got you all worked up and feverish, and now you can't think straight. All you could hear is his voice telling you to come to the edge of the bed. By the edge of the bed, you could see Alfred on his knees on the floor. He motions you to take a seat.

"Just relax for me, okay?" Alfred props your legs on his shoulders. Your cheeks redden as he starts kissing your thighs.

You have never had someone this close before. There was a knot forming in you that you can't explain—a feeling you found a little bit too much to handle. The few relationships you have had before him never really gave you the same treatment. Ever since you and Alfred had gotten together, you never really asked for anything in bed or you try your best not to ask too much from Alfred. Your past dating traumas caught up to you, making you feel like a nuisance if you ever asked for something as simple as a takeout. But here you are, sitting with your legs spread open by your man, who insists on pleasuring you.

Alfred is so close to your hot sex now. You let out a little gasp as he lifts your leg, making you lean back. He looks at you as his tongue protrudes between your folds. Your entire body buzzes from the touch. You grip your hands on the sheets as he starts to lap slowly on your pussy before he starts picking up the pace. Your legs locked around him, moving his head in closer and giving him an advantage to protrude inside you. You swallow your breath, trying to keep your heart from racing. The sensation of his tongue gives you a high as he starts to poke into you a bit deeper. His lips are now against you as you could feel yourself getting wetter by the moment. He pulls you even closer, adjusting you leg on his right shoulder. Your moans echoed in the room as his lips start to brush against your very sensitive clit. You let out a whimper every time you feel him rub against it, but he avoids it.

"Alfred..." You look down at him with annoyance.

He glances back at you, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. You scoff at him. The blond teases you back by playing with your sensitive body—gripping on your ass to pull you closer, his tongue exploring you, and nose poking against your clit. You've had enough.

You grab his hair and position him where you want him to be. He smiles at your sudden move and finally pays attention to your needy nub. You moan out with relief. The satisfaction of him licking on your nub gives you so much stimulation that you start to grind against his face. You lay on your back and continue your grind against his face. You keep on rolling your hips, gripping tightly on his hair while your free hand reaches for a pillow above you to grip on. His lips sucking your clit with enough pressure, making sure that he was building you up into a hot mess even more.

"Alfred! Fuck!" You arch your back as you could feel tight knot forming in your abdomen—waiting to break from the tension.

As if on cue, Alfred slips two of his fingers into your entrance. A gasp slips from your lips. You curl your toes in ecstasy. His tongue solely focusing on your clit while he pulls his fingers in and out of your entrance. Every plunge he takes goes deeper, and you could feel spots inside of you that have never been touched before. He makes a v-sign inside of you, dragging his tongue from your entrance to your clit—tasting up all of your juices as if they were about to run out.

"God, Al, don't stop!" You nearly choked on your words as you could feel the tension coming to a point.

Alfred understood right away. You knew he had experience, but it never occured to you that he was this experienced. The blond looked like a sweet golden retriever with a halo on his head for all the good things he has done, an angel in disguise with his optimism and nerdiness. He did not look like a man who could get you this messy and weak like a mewling quim that wants more of his touch.

You could feel the tension coming to it's sweet release now. You claw hard on what you can reach. Alfred didn't stop, even if you were squeezing his head a bit too tight for his liking. Your breathing intensified as you twitched from any touch you were experiencing now. You could feel yourself coming to your climax. Alfred still refuses to tire out. He continues to concentrate on your sensitive clit as his fingers curl and move in you. Your hands grip hard on your pillows as the piles of sensation finally start to collapse into the most satisfying release you have ever experienced in your entire life.

"Oh god!" You moan out loud as your legs shook from the intense release of your orgasm. Hips buckling against him as you could feel your own fluids running down your ass.

You continue to shiver as his motions slow down. Your chest slowly raises as it backs down with a shivering exhale. You swallow hard as your legs twitch from time to time—they tingle harder when he slowly removes his fingers from you. You whine a little.

"Are you alright, babe?"

You sit up a bit and watch Alfred lick off the rest of your orgasm from your legs. His face shining from the subtle light from the lamp. Your face goes red when you realize that you had yourself all over him.

You cover your face with your hands. Internally screaming and slightly embarrassed, but there's this tinge of pride in you that's beginning to swell up. You are completely enamoured by Alfred eating you out and being face filled with your cum. Your mouth gapes open, wanting to say something, but you quickly shut it. As proud as you are about your cum all over him, you still felt quite embarrassed about your own thoughts.

"You taste so good." Your ears reddened.

Goosebumps crawl up on your skin as you could feel Alfred crawling up the bed. His body houses over yours as he kisses both the back of your hands. You uncover your face and look into his eyes. There was a look on his face. A smile curled on his lips with his hazy blue eyes looking like they were in a trance.

Your curious eyes fixated on him as you started to experiment with his reactions. You cup his face with your hands, he instantly rubs his face against them. You trail your heads down to his neck, scratching his nape gently while your other hand graces over his adams apple down to his collarbone. His lips let out a sigh as his cheeks go red from your touch. His eyes close gently as you continue to touch him. Your hand tracing down lower and lower while your other continues to scratch his nape.

Oh.

Alfred was being patient, but you weren't blind from the fact that his patience was akin to a dog waiting for his treat. Loose whines would escape from his lips. The relaxed, yet hoping, look on his face becomes more and more evident as you continue to scratch him. It's entertaining to you. Just moments ago, he ate you out as if it was his last chance at pleasing you; now, he's now under the power of the palm of your putty hands as his own anticipation grows when you trace your fingers down lower to his trapped cock.

A smile graces on your lips as a groan emits from him. The intense eye contact between you had two sides, one being your mischief while the other was pleading. With the tables turned, you continue to tease Alfred lightly.

"(Y/n)..."

You flutter your eyes at him innocently. A puppy pout sprouts from his lips. You play a dangerous game with all of this, but you couldn’t care less about the outcome. Watching him slowly melt with your touch like a candle entices you a lot. By a lot, you mean a lot. The look on the man’s face is clearly a man who yearns for you. Alfred is burning under the spell of the heat, waiting and staying patiently even if he wants to pounce on you now.

“Tell me, Alfred.”

You grab him by the hairs on the nape of his neck and pull his head backwards. A low moan comes out of his mouth with a pathetic look on his face. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and his mouth gaping open for air.

“Do you want more of me?” You slowly close your hands around his clothed manhood.

“Yes.” He grunts as you give him a squeeze.

“All of me?” You trace you fingers up to the button of his jeans.

“All of you.”

You give his chin a kiss. You slowly angle his head to reach your lips, but only to lick his lips slowly, not to give a kiss—not yet. You want to edge him a little bit more. Watching him crumble from your hold is giving you the ego boost Alfred probably wants from you. His submission to your touch and the look in his eyes show you how much control you have over him. Perhaps you were the one in control this whole time, not him. He did initiate this entire thing, but he catered to what you secretly wanted from him. There is devotion with his actions—a spectre of obedience under your quiet commands.

You fiddle with the button of his jeans. His chin between your fingers as you pull his lips open with your thumb. Without you asking, he draws his tongue out. You couldn’t help, but chuckle lightly at him.

“Such a good boy.”

You pull him into a ravenous kiss. Alfred lets you explore his mouth as you start to slowly open his jeans. Unbuttoned and unzipped, you could feel his erection better now despite the thin cloth of his underwear. You marvel at his cock with your hands for a moment before pulling down the waistband of his boxer briefs. A sigh of relief escapes Alfred’s lips as you pull away for air.

You look down to see him erect with his pre-cum dripping from his tip. You lick your lips as you wrap your hand around him, feeling him up and down. Alfred’s heart pounds with excitement as he moans out your name. His body shivering from the touch of your hand. You spread your legs wider. You look back up at Alfred’s expressions. He looks messier than you did earlier. You could tell that his head was spinning from all of that touch. The sensitivity of his body was at an all time high.

“(Y/n), please.” He begs.

As much as you want to hear him like this, you feel sorry for how long he had to be patient for. You shortly debate on dragging him a bit longer, but you decide not to. After all, he did you a lot of good so far.

You hook a leg over his waist to pull him closer. Your hand guides his length against your slit, both of you quivering from the touch. You press your forehead against his as you could feel his cock dipping into you. A wave of relief finally came over the both of you accompanied by heavy breaths and moans, never losing eye contact with him. His hold on you became more primal and rough—his hand gripping tightly on your hips with his fingers digging into your skin. You wince at the force, but quickly forgot about it as his hips began to move.

Alfred’s movements started slow, but rough. You could tell how much he longed to be in you. He was taking his time to feel your walls wrap around his pulsating cock like a boa coiling around him. His laggard movement is preparing you for what’s about to come next, but you enjoy feeling his sex warming inside you. You wrap your leg around him tighter and whisper, “I love how it feels when you’re inside me.”

Alfred definitely did not expect to hear that from you.

He smirks, almost cockily. He crashes his lips against yours giving you fierce kisses. You were taken aback by the sudden confidence, but you let him. You want to see how far he was going to make you feel good.

“Shit!” Your fingers dig deep into his skin as he starts to pick up the pace.

At first he starts to the rhythm of a four beat scale, giving emphasis for each movement as the wholly sounds of your groans surface out of your lips. But he builds up to a speed where you find yourself losing your own tempo. He assists you with his hand on your hip while he kisses your jaw. You look into his eyes with a lewd haziness in them. The slapping of your skins and the wanton heat in the air became unbearable for you to just hold everything in.

“God, you feel so good.” Alfred moans out.

You could feel him finally hitting a spot he reached in earlier. You wrap your arms around him tighter as you have your lips latching on the skin of his neck. You suck hard on a spot, earning a hiss from him in response, but he doesn’t stop. He knows that whatever he was doing now was good. You could say the same as you create more blooming roses on his skin.

As steady as his pace goes, you hold onto him tightly. Your breasts pressing against his chest and the muscles of your legs tightening from the tension. You could feel yourself finally coming close to another climax. Alfred could say the same as he feels his own coming along.

“Fuck, Alfred!” He rubs your clit as your core pulsates.

“I’m so close, (Y/n).” He grunts.

“Me too, babe. Just don’t stop—ngh!”

As the last stretch comes to a close, you both gasp with euphoria as he ruts inside you with your own orgasm following through. Your bodies shake from the intense release. You feel him fill in you as your eyes roll back. He holds you tightly before you fall back into the softness of the bed. The hairs on the back of your neck rise as he slowly removes himself from you. Your body twitches as you try to make out the words he whispers to you. Nevertheless, you pick up whatever cells in your brain you had left and try to focus.

You smile lazily as he pulls you in a gentle cuddle. You feel yourself calming down from the high and activity. Alfred kisses the crown of your head.

“You really did me good, huh?” You glance at him.

“Would I really be a hero if I can’t please my own heroine?” You chuckle at his statement.

You lace your fingers with his. He moves closer to you, just enough for your ear to hear his heartbeat. You look up and meet his eyes.

“Is there anything you want?” Alfred raises an eyebrow.

“Next time, I’m actually going to sit on your face.” You declare.

You both share a laugh together knowing that it will happen. For now, you both finally start to understand the layout of a give and take relationship in bed. Silently confirming to yourselves that the shyness between the both of you will dissipate slowly.

[hetalimagines]

General headcanons for Alfred as a boyfriend (SFW)

Here's my first actual post on this blog, hehe... I can't find the ask but someone requested some Alfred headcanons, so here are my rambles about what I think he's like as a boyfriend!

He’s honestly not the most traditionally romantic person. Your relationship is more like friends who make out sometimes. But he does have his own little ways of showing you he loves you!

He’ll put together playlists of songs that remind him of you. They’re mostly loose connections, like maybe a song mentions your eye color, or the lyrics remind him of a date you went on together, or it just sounds romantic and makes him wanna kiss you. He likes to sit with you while you listen (to every single song), and he interrupts the songs a bit to explain why he chose them.

“This one had me thinking what if we were dancing in a ballroom together, and out of nowhere, bam! Zombies bust in. The door crashes to the ground! Our dance turns into one of those cool fighting scenes with the—oh, this part reminded me of the time I woke up early and you were about to fall off the bed. You had a cute bedhead.”

(You have no idea what the lyrics are at this point.)

Dates with him are pretty casual, more like “hanging out” than anything fancy. Maybe you stay at home and watch movies/play games, or you go out for dinner at a local diner, or you go do awful karaoke together, or you go and prank a friend together.

He’s happy as long as he’s with you. Bonus if there’s food and/or drink.

He occasionally takes you out to a more traditional restaurant and dresses for the occasion. They’re usually expensive, too. The food isn’t his preference (too complicated for his palate), but if it makes you happy, he’s all for dealing with it for just one night.

His primary love languages are acts of service and quality time. He’s always doing what he can to help you out (and feel proud of himself in the process). Whether he helps you run errands, runs a bath for you ahead of time, or fluffs your pillow before you get in bed, it’s all because he wants to make your life easier!

He gets a little jealous if you ever spend time with your shared friends without him, or if you spend more time with others than him.

He’s so excited if you take interest in any of his hobbies. Movies? He’ll ask if you want to co-write a script with him. (He’s very relaxed about what exactly ends up in the script.) Archaeology? He has so many random facts to dump on you, and he’ll be super impressed by any knowledge you have on it. Conspiracy theories? Time to watch a bunch of documentaries! He enjoys them despite their flaws, but lets you know exactly when something is false and what actually happened.

He tries to take interest in your hobbies, too, even if he doesn’t understand what you’re talking about. It could be the most boring thing and he’d still listen and ask you questions about it. If it makes you happy, he wants to know all about it.

Pet names from him consist of things like babe, dude (💀), honey, occasionally sweetie, (jokingly… mostly) prince or princess. It’s all over the place. He’ll call you honey and dude back-to-back sometimes.

He loves debating if you’re comfortable with it! But be warned, he gets very heated about certain topics. His sense of justice is important to him. Otherwise, he’s usually not serious about these debates and doesn’t care who wins.

He tries to keep things light and doesn’t usually let people see his more serious side. He’ll open up to you more over time, however. It’s really him letting a wall down and allowing himself to get closer to you.

Every now and then, he has days where he’s a lot quieter and calmer than usual. He just wants to relax, stay on the couch with you and watch movies or simply chat. Maybe a movie chattering in the background as he tells you about his childhood. He doesn’t try so hard to keep up this energetic, heroic persona.

He’s right back to normal the next day like nothing happened.

Likes to annoy you for fun. Not in a mean-spirited way. He just thinks your responses are cute and has poor impulse control. Poking your cheeks or ruffling your hair or playing an obnoxious song loudly on the stereo while he dances. But he’ll back off if you’re genuinely upset with him. He means no harm.

He loves if you’re willing to play along with whatever he gets up to. Maybe he’s decided he’s going to try and vacuum the whole house while doing a handstand on the vacuum. You can hold onto his legs to help him stay balanced.

This man is very impulsive and has a tendency to get himself hurt. Random bruises all over his body or a cut along his forearm. He bounces back easily, and doesn’t want to fuss over it, but he lowkey likes if you baby him about it. He’ll always say how it’s not a big deal and he can take it, but his heart does this little flutter when you show concern, and even more if you force him to take better care of himself.

He burns himself in the kitchen and you force him to run it under cold water. He’s swooning inside.

He likes to gossip about others, especially over breakfast. He can’t help it; he’s just nosy, and he always has an idea of what’s going on and how he can help out. Huge bonus if you gossip with him!

He loves to feed you, but the majority of the food he brings for you is burgers or tubs of ice cream. He likes to experiment with the burgers’ toppings and seasonings, but they’re all burgers nonetheless.

Every now and then, he does plan some big romantic endeavor. It’s like a surprise. You never know when it’s coming… You wake up one morning and find out he’s booked a week long cruise, your bedroom is filled with balloons, and there’s enough breakfast food on the table to feed an army.

He does this thing sometimes (often) where he swoops in and has to save you. A puddle on the ground? No need to fear! He picks you up and swiftly carries you over it. The safest place for you is in his arms. He’ll even lay down and let you use him as a bridge if you want.

A suspicious penny on the sidewalk? LOOK OUT, IT MIGHT BE A BOMB! Let HIM step on it before you get blown up!

He steps on it. Nothing happens. Better safe than sorry!

If you’re the more independent type, that won’t stop him from trying. He just wants to keep you safe and have you appreciate his efforts. Being disinterested or resistant will just make him try harder.

Says cheesy stuff like “happy wife, happy life” unironically. He’s also the type to use terrible pickup lines to flirt with you. Totally unaware of how bad they are until you start laughing.

He also doesn’t care that they’re bad. He’s just having fun.

Loves to give you his clothes to wear. Seriously. You want one of his hoodies? Try six of them.

You complain when one stops smelling like him so he puts it on, works out, then gives it back to you like :D! Fixed the problem!

He takes so many pictures of you guys. Videos, too. His phone storage is eaten up by it. His favorite thing is to take selfies together. Usually with some silly filter. Or an even sillier caption.

“me and the babe out shopping” and it’s a picture of you, holding a piece of fruit with the dog ears filter

He’s not the most physically affectionate, but he always gives you morning kisses and especially kisses before leaving the house. He also loves carrying you around (mostly bridal style) in his arms for no reason other than he can. A hand on your back, another on your thighs, your head pressed against his chest. He loves it.

He loves knowing you find him physically attractive! He worries sometimes about being too overweight, so any reassurance that you like his body helps. If you think he’s hot, and you’re hot yourself, that must mean he definitely is.

Has a tendency to call you hot, but he’ll call you other things if it makes you uncomfortable.

Occasionally brags about you and how lucky he is. Not as often as you might think. Though he gets oddly competitive if anyone acts like their partner is better than you and starts spouting whatever he can so everyone knows you’re the absolute best. No competition.

[generational-atrophy]

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

hetalia main 8 (+ canada & prussia) affection hcs

2.0k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: mention of suggestive themes, mention of alcohol

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

America

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

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

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

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

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

England

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

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

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

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

France

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

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

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

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

China

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

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

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

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

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

Russia

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

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

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

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

Canada

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

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

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

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

Italy

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

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

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

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

Germany

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

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

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

Japan

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

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

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

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

Romano

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

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

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

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

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

Prussia

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

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

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

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

[alfredosauce50]

These are the birthday headcanons for one of oldest fans and Patrons. It has a theme and plot, so it’ll be quite different than usual, having been heavily inspired by Night at the Museum and my Viking AU.

I hope you enjoy this, Tullah 😝

Viking Denmark in the modern world

After being thrown a thousand years into the future, he tries to make sense of the strange new world he’s in, and it’s nothing like Kattegat. More importantly, he goes searching for you, and by some astronomical chance, he finds you. But you’re not the same person he remembers, and you don’t recognize him at all.

Mathias had always told you having you in one life wasn’t enough. That he’d want to find you again in the next, then the one after that until the end of time. But now that the opportunity presents itself, would he even be able to have you?

Content warning: Brief NSFW and violence. R18+ only.

Origins

Mathias can trace his predicament back to his expedition to North America. He carelessly picks up a tribe’s religious relic, not realizing that it will grant his deepest desires. Having you in the next life, wherever — and whenever — that takes him. He goes to sleep, not knowing that upon waking up, he wouldn’t be in the same place, nor the same year. Instead, he opens his eyes and finds himself on a hard bench in Central Park in the company of pigeons. He sits up squinting from the sun, wondering what the hell just happened.

He’s not in America anymore, or at least, not the America he knows. There’s no natives, everyone is wearing strange clothing, and the concrete jungle is a bit nauseating. The buildings are so tall that they’re touching the sky, and there are self-driving carriages carrying people in them! To say he’s overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle of a modern city would be an understatement. But his first priority isn’t to figure out where he is, or when he is for that matter. It’s to look for you.

You’re waiting at a bus stop when he lays eyes on you, and time stops. He enters a realm beyond it, like everything just disappeared but you and him. Nothing matters anymore, not the strange world or era he was in, for you were here. He found you in this place, making this place his. He can barely describe the elation coursing through his body as he runs up to you, eyes wide and heart racing. But when Mathias takes your arms and speaks frantically over you, smile growing, you pull away from him as if he were nothing but a stranger.

“Let go!” You push him, much to his confusion.

“What are you talking about? It’s me!” Mathias talks excitedly, not quite registering the fear marring your expression. He comes for you again, laughing as he pulls you into a tight embrace. With your feet off the ground, you start squirming in his arms, frightened out of your wits. “I’m so glad to see you. I thought I’d never see you again! But really, what is this place?”

“I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know what you’re talking about, so could you leave me alone?” You try to pull away from his unrelenting hold on your shoulders. It’s only when passerby take notice of the situation do you have any hope of freeing yourself. They surround him and give him trouble, shoving him back to give you the chance to flee. “You’re crazy!”

You manage to get onboard while leaving him behind, but Mathias chases after your bus like a furious bride left at the altar. And the way he runs is terrifying. He’s charging after you like a bull, following you street after street for an ungodly amount of time before you eventually lose him. One part of you is relieved that you just escaped a maniac who was likely having a mental health episode, but another part of you is wondering that if by some slim chance that everything he said was justified, who on Earth was this guy?

Taking him under your wing

It takes while before you see him again, but even longer before he convinces you to want anything to do with him. You’ll bump into him in the city where he’s sticking out like a sore thumb, still in the clothes he came in, and when that happens, he’ll chase you desperately for a conversation. Luckily, even he can’t quite master the bustling chaos of New York, let alone outrun a moving car. “Wait, just give me a chance to explain, please. I’m not crazy—” He begs as you get into a cab, to where you just yell, “—just stay away from me!”

After a few more chance encounters, you start to feel sorry for him. He clearly needs your help, and what finally changes your heart is seeing him live in a homeless encampment roasting pigeons so he can eat them. Mathias even offers you one, leading you to believe that he doesn’t mean any harm, but is otherwise very mentally disturbed. “I’m gonna get you some help, okay? Don’t make me regret it.” You tell him, leading the man out of the alleyway and to your car. He jogs after you with a relieved grin going, “I promise you won’t.”

He gets fascinated by everything in your house. The furniture, the kitchen appliances, running water, everything. But that also means you need to teach him how to function in the world as it is. How to use cutlery, the phone, public transport. Good thing is that he’s intelligent and adaptable, so he’ll get the hang of everything in a week. His social mannerisms, however, still need a lot of tweaking. The way he talks to strangers can be passive-aggressive, and he stares a lot. People in New York are like nobody he’s ever seen, and he won’t hesitate to point it out to you all the time.

“What are you doing with your fingers?” He frowns, watching his taxi driver rub his fingertips together.

“I was asking for a tip,” They grin.

“What is a tip?” Mathias asks, his accent and foreign background now more jarring than ever.

“You know, when you think I did a good job and you feel like paying me a little extra for it?” The man says sheepishly, hoping to get lucky with who was clearly a rich tourist. “Just common courtesy around here.”

“But you did not do a good job.” He leans back.

You’re tempted to think he’s a runaway from a mental hospital. And one that’s suffering from delusions that he’s a Viking who time-traveled to present day America as he keeps talking about it. To make things worse, he doesn’t have any form of ID, and you’re hesitant to take him to the cops. You decide to keep him at home while you figure this out, hoping that he’d be gone in a few days. “What can I do to convince you I’m not mad?” Mathias sighs, to where you smile, “You’ll think of something. But it’d probably take a miracle.”

He comes onto you. Mathias has always been an incredibly affectionate husband, and by today’s standards, maybe even too forthcoming to the point of it being problematic. So it’s a given that something will happen eventually. While you’re in the kitchen chopping up vegetables, he’ll wrap around you from behind and press his face to yours — much to your protest. “Stop that, Mat. We’re not like that.” But he just grumbles and stays put, expression hardening as he presses even harder. “Of course we are. You’re my wife.”

He tries to kiss you all the time. With his mouth open and tongue is ready for you, he’s quite the menace when he’s in the mood for some love. You obviously respond by pushing him away, sometimes to the point of shoving him so hard that he stumbles back and plummets onto the bed. Mathias will just sigh and look to the side, a little disheartened, but after a moment of waiting for you to let your guard down, he’ll shoot up like nothing and go back to you to try again. After all, he’s faced your refusal of his advances before.

“Mat, I have a boyfriend. He won’t take kindly to you doing things like this.” You shoot him a heated look.

“Boyfriend?” He laughs breathily over you, pressing his forehead to yours gingerly. “What is a boyfriend?”

Interestingly, Mathias is not that bothered by the fact that you have someone. A boyfriend sounds like nothing compared to what he is. To him, it’s more like playful competition that he can’t take seriously. He’s just that sure of your love for him. It’s only if your ‘boyfriend’ tried anything in front of him that he’d lose his mind, which, fortunately hasn’t happened yet. In the end, he’d probably need you to break the spell and to return home, so if he isn’t able to have you, you’re stuck with him forever anyway. Not that he’s complaining.

You can’t grasp the magnitude of his feelings, nor what it truly means to be his. How could you? You’ve never met the man in your life, but he’s known you for all of his. It’s unsettling how sure he is about you, as well as how comfortable he is around you. He won’t always put in an effort to be decent in the house even when you tell him to, even to the point of being naked. Nudity is no big deal to a Viking, so imagine how he’d feel about being told off by you — his spouse. “What’s the matter, kæreste? Never seen a real man before?”

To remedy this imbalance, he tells you about all the memories he’s made with you. And the way he talks about you is as if he really knows you. Mathias is aware of so many things that would otherwise be impossible without you telling him, such as your habits, likes, dislikes, and the way you think. It’s mesmerizing and magical, just as if he was your lover from a past life. It’s crazy how well he gets on with you, and your chemistry with him is so natural, you start to wonder if you could really love him the way he always says you do.

“I won’t put dill in this. It won’t be the same but you don’t like the taste,” He murmurs as he works in the kitchen. He’s making salmon with a cream sauce, and all you can think about is that he somehow picked up on something you’ve never mentioned.

“How did you know I don’t like dill?” You lift your eyes to him quickly, gaze softening out of pure wonder.

“How could I not?” He smiles gently before returning to the stove. It’s only been a week, and he’s already mastered cooking. “I haven’t been lying to you, eskler. I’ve known you ever since we were children.”

At night, he’ll leave the guest room you told him to stay in and come into your bedroom. There’s nothing you can do as he crawls into bed with you, even wrapping himself around you until all you can feel is him. His arms are coiled around your stomach, and he’s pressing so hard against you that you can feel his bulge from behind. One of his hands goes up to your neck, holding it in a possessive, yet glaringly erotic bid for affection. It’s wrong of you to let him do this, but his touch just feels so right, you let yourself give in to him.

You start having lots of close calls with Mathias. He sometimes stand inches away from your face with your lips so close together, you would’ve ended up kissing him if you didn’t turn away last minute. When you do, he chuckles lowly and says this in a tender voice. “I promise we’ve done a lot more than kissing, eskler. We’re adults, after all.” Otherwise, his stare on you is always too hot for you to stomach, almost as if he has something else on his mind. He makes it obvious that he’s obsessed with you, and he’s losing his patience.

He chases you like crazy. It takes him back to the time before you married him, and that gets his blood pumping like never before. He will corner you against the kitchen counter and won’t let you leave without kissing him. Then, against all your morals, you actually do, which ends up with you two in the bedroom, half-naked and about to make love. Something about him feels so warm and familiar, you don’t act like yourself around him. It’s as if he’s put a spell on you, turning your mind inside out until you can’t think straight.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, Mat. This is wrong on so many levels,” You tear up as you climb off him.

“No it’s not. You know it’s not,” He frowns deeply, taking your hand before you can even get off the bed. He’s that high-strung about you, it’s impossible for you to get any space from him at all. Mathias is just constantly on your back, always pulling you back to him, again and again. “You know I’m the one for you.”

“How could I? Some stranger starts following me around like a puppy and I let them into my home?” You gush, red in the face from shame. Now that you said it out loud, it sounded a lot worse than what you originally thought. “And I was just about to sleep with them? God, I must be out of mind. I have to be!”

“But you’re not! Me being here is proof that you’re not crazy because it was you that brought me here. We belong to each other,” He exclaims passionately, his eyes burning with so much certainty you start caving again. But how could you give in when none of this made any sense, and was cruel to Alfred, who had no idea of everything you were doing behind his back? “You’re mine in all the lives you will ever live.”

Alfred eventually catches wind of what you’re doing. You still haven’t figured out how to explain this to him, and you’ve just been so distracted by Mathias, you’ve been putting reality on the back burner. But that all ends when he swings by unannounced with some food to surprise you. However, he’s in for quite the surprise himself. Mathias is in the living room watching TV while you’re typing on your laptop on the dining table, but that’s when he hears jingling behind the door, so he get up and comes over to your side.

“Hey, babe. They had a pop-up sale on some cookies so I thought I’d drop by,” Alfred speaks mindlessly as he enters your apartment with his spare key, and that is when he lays eyes on Mathias. He is visibly startled as he stops in place, but he keeps his composure. “Oh. I didn’t know you had company. Who’s this?”

When worlds collide

Like any other normal person, Alfred blows up on you when you tell him he’s been staying over the last two weeks. After all, what man in their right mind would be okay with their girlfriend living with another man and not tell them about it? You’d have to come up with some pretty good excuses to justify that, and with the way Mathias is holding you, things aren’t looking good for you. His hands are both sides of your waist like they belong there, and he’s giving the dirtiest look to your boyfriend like he’s the unwelcome one here.

“You need to get him out now.” Alfred demands.

“You don’t understand.” You close your eyes.

“What’s there to understand? That you’ve been living with another guy for the past two weeks and haven’t told me?” He seethes, nostrils flaring. The growing volume of the room alarms Mathias, who stands in front of you protectively. “Not that I’d even let you, but don’t you think you’re crossing the line here?”

“He’s homeless, and he’s not right in the head—”

“So is half of New York, but you don’t see me taking anybody in!” He gestures to the Dane like an alien.

“He’s not from this time period, okay?” You exhale.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Alfred squints, not at all prepared for what you were about to tell him. “Like he’s from another generation that’s somehow okay with their girlfriends living with other guys?”

“No, I mean he’s a time traveler. He’s a real, bonafide Viking from more than a thousand years ago,” You let it slip, watching his brows go up. “And I know that sounds crazy, but I didn’t believe it at first either.”

“Yeah, you’re right, that is pretty crazy,” Alfred scoffs, shaking his head in utter disbelief, but above all else, a sharp pang of betrayal. “If this is a prank, just know that I really hate it and I’m very disappointed in you.”

“But it’s not, I promise! Why would I pull something that could jeopardize our relationship?” You frown.

“I guess so,” He mumbles, albeit a little reluctantly. “But just run me through your thought process here. How did you come to the conclusion he broke the laws of physics and somehow leapt through time?”

“Well, I took him to the doctor yesterday and he had a bunch of diseases that are impossible to have now.”

“Oh,” He makes a face, shocked and disturbed by how on the nose your explanation was. Now he was really worried you were actually telling the truth. “What else? I mean, you can’t actually believe that—”

“—he speaks Old Norse fluently, doesn’t know what Wi-Fi is, and doesn’t even know to use a toilet.”

“Wow, okay.”

“And I’m sure the Danish are familiar with toilets.”

“Right.”

“And look at him. Doesn’t he look just like Mathias Densen, the Viking earl that lived more than a thousand years ago?” You ask him, pulling up your phone to show him a few images off a website.

“Shit, you’re right.” He digs a hand through his hair.

Your boyfriend is cordial at the start, especially with how bizarre all of this is. He’s also excited to talk to a real Viking, so he springs a bunch of questions on Mathias out of curiosity. The way the Dane answers them only confirms you were in fact, not lying, so he quickly gets onboard with the mission to send him back to the past. You’re all in the kitchen when Alfred drops the bomb on Mathias ever so casually while sipping on a mug. He’s sure you’ve wondered about the same thing, it’s just that he has it in him to actually ask it.

“So, how many people do you think you’ve killed?”

“I don’t know. Maybe hundreds.”

“And does that ever keep you up at night?”

“No, I sleep like a baby.”

“Thought you would.”

Things start to get heated once Mathias reveals that he’s in love with you and has no intentions of giving you up. Alfred was willing to be hospitable at first, but he doesn’t play about you, not even if he’s going up against a warlord turned King. This is his realm, and he won’t hesitate to use that to his advantage to threaten a man who otherwise is impossible to threaten. Not that he thinks he needs to, because he trusts you to stay loyal to him. Little does he know, Mathias has a profound effect on you that not even you can understand.

“You’re never gonna have her. I won’t let you,” Alfred says in a monotone, his expression unreadable as he stares straight at the man. He’s taken on a cold and calculating attitude, a far cry from the excitable nerd he used to be. But Mathias isn’t afraid of him at all.

“Then you will never be free of me.” The Dane smiles contentedly, eyes closed for a relaxed demeanor.

“I’d hate to be that person, but I could always call ICE on you for being undocumented,” Alfred raises his brows at him while he speaks in all seriousness, “I’d do that just so you’d leave my girlfriend alone.”

Shit finally hits the fan when Mathias walks in on you and Alfred in the bedroom. You’re riding him when the door opens, and your head whips to it out of shock. In the next few seconds, everything goes from zero to a hundred as something snaps in Mathias — he’s thrown into a hot and crazed mania, driven insane by the sight of you making love to someone else. The look behind his eyes is as if he’s completely gone, and he storms over with the intention to murder Alfred on the spot. “Mathias, no!” You plead, but it falls on deaf ears.

He pulls him off you and punches him so hard, blood sprays from his nose. But that’s not all. Mathias picks Alfred up by the neck, holding him inches above the ground to choke him to death. If he has to kill him with his bare hands, so be it. And he gets dangerously close to doing it when you smash a vase over his head, getting him to loosen his grip. You help Alfred escape with the skin of his teeth while screaming viciously at him. “Get out. Get the fuck out!” You cry, shoving him back again and again. “And never come back!”

After getting discharged from his hospital stay, Alfred goes looking for Mathias. It’s not the first thing that should be coming to mind after the guy almost offed him, but he has to resolve this once and for all. Because at this rate, someone would really end up killed. And he had a feeling that someone would be him. After a few days of scouring the city, he finds the Dane in an alley in front of a burn barrel and warming his hands. Without even greeting each other, they find that they’re already on the same page about this.

“You don’t belong here.” Alfred tells him point-blank.

“I know,” Mathias murmurs, keeping his gaze fixed on the flickering flames. “But she doesn’t either.”

“Ha! She’s lived here since she was a baby.”

“And she’s lived in Kattegat since she was a baby.”

“Have you not once considered she’s not the (F/N) you know? Yours is probably still in 1000AD wondering where you went,” Alfred shakes his head, frankly exasperated by the other’s stubbornness.

“Then why would I be here if she were not? There has to be a reason for me being here,” Mathias turns to him for a disgruntled look, but above all else was how determined he sounded. “She must be the reason.”

Going back to the past

Alfred goes to the library to do some research on the relic that Mathias picked up. Turns out, it can grant the user what they want most, only with a slight catch. It gives them the means to attaining their deepest desires, not the whole deal. And to reverse the spell, the user has to fulfill their wish completely before having that kind of freedom. So in other words, he has to get you to fall in love with him if he ever wants to return to Kattegat. “Well, it looks like you’re gonna be stuck here as a hobo forever. Not my problem.” Alfred shrugs.

Mathias isn’t disheartened by those terms, even if you did just kick him out for trying to murder your boyfriend. You’ve hated him once, just like you hate him now, so this is just a repeat of the past. As much as that bothers him, he knows he can do this because he’s done it before. Alfred, on the other hand, isn’t convinced he can pull this off at all. While he’s putting back the books he used, he wonders what’s left for the Viking now that they’ll be stranded in modern day America without even two dimes to rub together.

“So, what are you gonna do now that you’re never going back to Kattegat? You have nowhere to stay.”

“But I am going back.” Mathias lifts his gaze to him.

“How?” He shakes his head, eyes narrowed.

“I have my ways.”

“What ways? She thinks you’re an axe-waving megalomaniac, for fuck’s sake. You tried to kill me!”Alfred whispers that last part furiously while pointing an accusing finger at the man, who showed not even the slightest dash of remorse. “And you almost did!”

“And that mean she cannot love me?”

“Yes!” He blurts it like it’s the most obvious point he ever made, but something was still not clicking.

“You underestimate our passion for one another,” Mathias smiles sagely to himself as he recollects the raunchier memories he made with you. And he isn’t afraid to disclose that information to the other man. “When we were together, we made love every night.”

“Okay, I did not need to know that.”

“She was always with child.”

“Didn’t need to know that either!”

It’s understandably very tense between you two at first. Mathias will show up at your door, and still in the last outfit he was wearing when you kicked him out, only for you to shut it in his face. He does this a few more times before resorting to sleeping outside your door, because it’s not like he has anywhere else to go anyway. He’ll do anything for you to forgive him, even if it’s at the expense of your kindness since he’s starving at this point. After days of lying outside your home, you take him in out of fear for his well-being.

When he’s back at your place, he behaves well. He actively helps around the house, doing chores without you asking, and doesn’t even bother you for your affection. You’re barely tolerating him, and you don’t see that changing anytime soon. However, you get a phone call from Alfred that changes everything. Just when you thought you would be keeping Mathias at arm’s length out of respect for what he did to him, your boyfriend is now telling you to throw all of that overboard and do the unthinkable. Giving your heart to him.

“Is Mathias back at yours?”

“Yes, but only because he was starving. Why?”

“Well, we had a little talk and we figured it was best to let everything run its course,” Alfred says. He goes on to explain what he found out about Mathias, the relic, the spell, then how to send him back home.

He also tells you that if everything goes right, you’ll still be here. So if he has to give you up until then, he will, no matter how much it hurts. There’s also some part of you that’s not really you, which explains a lot.

A lot being why you were so uncharacteristically receptive to Mathias in the first place. But as soon as he gets sent home, you’ll return to your normal self again, which is everything Alfred could ever want.

Mathias eases his way back onto your good side. Aside from being a good roommate and giving you space, he will sneak some lingering touches until he works his way up to talking and hugging again. It works better than you like, but Alfred did say you weren’t yourself. You are your past self, or at least partially, but it’s more than enough for a soft spot to form for him. Before you know it, it’s routine for you to sit on his lap and talk to him at night. While nothing happens, it becomes undeniable what’s developing between you two.

“Is it okay for me to put my hand here?” He whispers, letting his palm hover over the side of your face, and you answer him by simply press your cheek into it. You’re looking at him in a way you never had before, with so much love and tenderness that he feels like he’s back home. But then again, you are his home.

You start having dreams about your past. And it’s all so vivid, it feels real. Little do you know, it is, because what you’re experiencing are visions of the life you once lived. Playing with him as a kid, getting chased by him in adulthood, and finally marrying him in the sweet, cypress-scented air. Sailing to new, unknown lands just to give you a better life and a place to raise a family with him. All of it is so familiar, and the memory of Mathias is so beautiful that you end up waking in tears, aching for what feels like a dream of a dream.

Overtime, you remember more about yourself until you’re no longer the person Alfred knows, but the person Mathias does. It’s like your past self is fighting to wake, then on that one fateful night, everything just falls into place. With only one glance at you, he knows you’ve come back to him. You’re staring at him with your eyes wide and lips trembling, almost as if you hadn’t seen him in years. He smiles warmly as he opens his arms for you to run into, and you practically plow into them with tears running down your face.

“Take me home, Mat. I wanna go home.” You whisper into his chest, squeezing him as tight as you can.

“We will, kæreste. You’re gonna take us home now.” He wraps around you assuringly, kissing your head.

The next morning, you and Mathias wake up in the bedroom of your longhouse. He remembers everything that happened, but strangely enough, you have no recollection of being in New York or having a boyfriend there. When he tries asking you about it, you shoot him a weird look and go,“Who’s Alfred?” On the other side of the timeline, Alfred looks for you at your apartment after you text him to come over for dinner. When he does, he notices that Mathias is gone, and upon asking about it, you shake your head. “Who’s Mathias?”

[yawujin]

Hii!! Halloweens comin right up, do you think you could do some headcannons of japan, russia, america and romano celebrating Halloween with their s/o? (Esp with an s/o who absolutely loves halloween maybe :3)

hey !! i am so excited for halloween this year you would not believeee 🎃 here you go anon, enjoy!

request | japan , russia , america & romano x a halloween loving reader

type | light hearted , halloween , established relationship , fluff

japan/kiku honda ♡

he's the type to want to just stay in and enjoy a nice night watching a halloween movie marathon. he *might* even eat some candy (although he doesn't have much of a sweet tooth at all)

it's either that or he'll tag along with his partner on a walk. they are out people watching and making a game out of guessing what everyone's costumes are supposed to be

starts decorating for the holiday earlier (much to his partner's delight) he'll probably do it on the first week of the month, just to get everything out of the way

he always anticipates what costume his partner picked out this year.

he feels as though it's more exciting to see them all dressed rather than do it himself

russia/ivan braginsky ♡

the couple does not go to a party, nor trick or treating, but a secret third thing (walking around at night and basking in that crisp, cool autumn air)

he'd want to go to a restaurant with you, the two of you all dressed up, just to be a little different

it doesn't really matter to him which costume they choose, but he does like it if they dress up as something scary.

in his mind, it will hopefully make him look less intimidating

america/alfred f. jones ♡

most likely to bring up the idea of a couple's costume to you first

he usually goes all out for the decorations, but waits until mid october to do so

take him to a halloween party, and he'll keep partying all night (even when the clock hits midnight)

makes sure to buy candy for all of the trick or treaters but also keeps a big stash of your favorites for the two of you

also the most likely to dress up as any killer from the most popular slasher movies

romano/lovino vargas ♡

enjoys seeing people get scared of the motion-activated animatronic he put up in front of the candy bowl outside.

he'll agree to a couple's costume if they ask him, but he's guaranteed to get flustered when someone tells them that they look cute together.

prefers cannoli over candy

most likely to punch an animatronic/scare actor out of fear if his partner took him to a haunted house

[noelletronics]

Me reading my Hetalia art book while my fiancé asks my parents permission to marry me (I’m Mexican so it’s tradition, I already picked out my ring with him this is just formalities)

[pxstelmxsings]

Hello! May I request Italy, Spain, American, Germany, and/or Denmark with a plus sized soulmate or girlfriend(Whichever you feel most comfortable writing)?

This is so cute!

Genreal notes: Like always, I write on mobile, so I apologize for any weird spelling mistakes.

I left Denmark out of this because I really need to revisit his character.

Warning: Mention of stereotypes. Nothing fully written but like possiable mindsets are there. Nations are old, and it can be hard to unlearn things.

♡ America

1. America thinks plus sized people are hot. He is almost plus size himself, so why wouldn't he find it attractive in others?

2. there is only one thing he would comment about your weight, and that is his sweaters and hoodies are not super sized on you. He fixes that by going out and buying bigger hoodies.

3. If any other nation comments about your weight, he will punch them :)

4. America is very aware that fat rolls can get funky smells if not cared for correctly. He has anything and everything you might want for your hygiene.

Don't like what he has? He will go buy new products for you.

5. America ways tries his best to make to make sure you feel happy in your body no matter your size.

♡ Germany

1. I think he would worry about your health a lot. It doesn’t matter if you are a little chubby or one of the largest plus sizes you can be. He worries.

He would be just as worried if you were underweight. Maybe a little more.

2. He does a lot of research on healthy deit plans to make sure you are meeting all your intake goals. It is through this research that he learns he eats way too much bread and cheese.

3. If he ever sees you feeling down about your body, he'll try his best to make you feel better... just know he is kinda bad at saying the right things.

4. He unlearns a lot of negative weight stereotypes through you.

5. He does love your chubby cheeks and belly. To him, they make too adorable for your own good. Especially when you wear traditional feminine clothing.

♡ Spain

1. Spain has always been underweight. Not so underweight it makes others truly worried about his health, but enough that comments have been made.

2. The differences in body weight is veeeerrrry noticeable, and he honestly loves it.

3. He will steal your hoodies to wear during siestas. They smell like you, the hoodies are huge on him, and they are made of soft fabric.

4. There might be a few harmful /out of date ideas that he will have to unlearn. For example, he assumes that you come from money because of your weight. If you are, let us say, a broke college student... Yeah, he will be shocked.

5. You are always getting clothing gifts from him. Spain wants to see you in every single sexy outfit he can think of.

♡ Italy

1. Italy will request to see you in minie shorts or mini dresses / skirts all the damn time. This man loves thick thighs and will never hide that fact.

2. While Italy is very lean nowadays, that hasn't always been the case. He likes to compare any stretch marks you might have to his own.

3. Just like Spain, Italy loves to steal your clothing. Listen, he feels so safe and loved when wrapped up in your hoodie.

4. About dies from hotness overload when you wear bikinis to the beach. Someone come save this man.

5. Honestly, he doesn't worry about your health all that much. Italy knows first hand you can be plus size while still eating healthy and working out.