#alfred f jones x reader

[hwsing]

hi hi hi! i’d love to request america for the nsfw alphabet (if you want to!!!) please and thank you!

america nsfw alphabet

notes: 18+, reader is gender neutral and includes both bottom and top reader. includes: america (alfred f. jones). as always, reblogs are appreciated!

cws: me yapping as always; alfred is a bit weird but nice, creampies, roleplay, vibrators, switch! alfred. wc: about 1.7k words. not really proof read.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

generally speaking — alfred is a wee bit dense, and so i dont think he’s the type to go above and beyond everytime, especially at first; unless you give him some specifics to work with, he’s going to provide some stuff like water food etc a shower if you want, cuddles, just general decompressing. he’ll usually ask how you’re doing as a check in, but he’s not overly inclined to pressing if you don’t say you need something hdhddh. whatever you want is yours though!! he is a sweetie deep down and is Very prone to being. ahem. whipped

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on himself…. the general shoulder/arm region. i dont think hes particularly buff bc i dont think hes even remotely consistent with exercise but, yk those guys that like. hit the gym for six weeks and suddenly are almost ripped? he’s like that,,, just his genetics so no matter what he looks a lil beefy, esp with how much he eats. he likes how big/strong he looks

on his partner, it’s cheesy, but he’d *always* say eyes or your smile. your eyes preferably when you’re smiling, really! even if it’s from you scoffing at something stupid hes doing. what can i say he got the hopeless romantic trait from arthur

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

i Must be honest. his cum does not taste particularly good. and he cums A LOT like … i think he’s quite into creampies because he really does have the necessities to make it happen. his favourite places to cum: your mouth/face, makes him flustered to see you have to lick it off

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

this was hard because i don’t think he keeps many secrets about this, and he isn’t overly kinky to begin with. i would say that maybe he can be a bit of a creep? he’s just very enamoured by his partner and fantasies a lot, which leads to him mentally sexualizing his partner. you can argue that’s just being horny, but he feels creepy whenever he realizes he’s staring at your ass or down your shirt.

by extension, he doesn’t usually have the balls to steal your underwear but if your laundry is out in the open in any way and you aren’t in the room…………….. you cannot blame him for touching them and taking a sniff okay?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

in our day and age? definitely a good amount of experience. i dont think he’s quite as experienced as he may seem, which embarrasses him on the low but he compensates with his outrageous confidence anyways. by no means close to a virgin though. he still gets around

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

okay so he might say reverse cowgirl but in reality it’s missionary doesnt matter if he’s top or bottom. he just thinks its a lame answer. side note, he loves to hold hands during missionary.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

YOU ALREADY KNOWWWWWWWWWWWW.. he can be more serious (especially if roleplay is involved, he gets oddly invested…) but for the most part he really really really just wants you n him to have a good time so he’ll put a lot of pressure on himself to be entertaining

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he trims and washes well but basically never shaves down there. he will if you ask but he just prefers to keep it trimmed and let it be for the most part. isn’t insanely hairy anyways though

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

alfred values the intimacy of sex quite a bit to be honest. he may not showcase this if you two aren’t close yet, but if you are, it’s so obvious how much he loves you. he’ll say it a lot too when you two are at that level — he borderline worships you in the bedroom honestly. he’s just kinda obsessed and cherishes the relationship he has with you DEEPLY

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

i really do believe he had a small addiction at one point. not much to say about that so let’s move on… back in prime playboy days he absolutely read them and other lewd magazines; nowadays, he’s actually a bit more imaginative because i think in recent years he’d pick up the belief that most visual porn on like pornhub and sites of that nature tend to be exploitative. so, he tends to break out some music and get it done. he usually doesn’t get particularly horny unless prompted, so, he can find something to think of with ease.

kind of sucks at masturbating though. he’s horrible at pacing himself, and ends up edging himself accidentally a few times because he gets too close too soon and he has to back off immediately. his poor dick is not cared for well…

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

i’ve already talked about some obvious ones throughout this alphabet, but another that randomly comes to mind is roleplay. he can feel a bit cringe about it but if he’s in the headspace he can get SO into it. obviously hero roleplay where you should reward him for saving you from the bad guy; he’d humbly dismiss the idea like a good hero, but he’s certainly not complaining when you tug down his pants and suck the life out of him in thanks!!

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

house/apartment, doesn’t matter where too much but in the privacy of your own space is what he prefers. would question god what he did to deserve it if he EVER got caught with his pants down so he’d just… prefer to keep it safe

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

so easily turned on it’s not even funny. i don’t think his sex drive is super high and sometimes it can feel a bit random — he’s just. So attracted to his partner. he’s losing the idgaf war every. single. day.

there’s the obvious — you bend over to pick something up, your lounge clothes are revealing, you eat something creamy; but, sometimes, it’s just your smile or you fixing up your clothes after they shift. it just gets him thinking…. unholy things….. he wishes he wasn’t so easy but, if you like to initiate, it’s very rare that it doesn’t immediately get him in the mood.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

not really an orgy kinda guy

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

https://www.tumblr.com/hwsing/716154815799066624/giving-head

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends a lot of his partner’s preferences to be honest, but generally, middle ground of rough/slow and deep. he’ll speed up and get messy as he gets close when he tops. if he’s bottoming, he prefers slow and gentle or mind numbingly rough and fast depending on the kinda day he had. sex in general can be a productive way for him to burn off stress!!

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

not a quickie lover but is a quickie truther. sometimes they’re just what’s most convenient, especially during busy times of the year for him when he’s trapped working. you’ll *know* how much he misses you, though, with the needy texts you’ll receive.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

not as much as you’d probably expect but he’s still quite experimental! he can just feel a bit embarrassed/shy experiencing or doing something new in front of someone, especially if you already are knowledgeable/have done said thing, but he’ll put on his big boy pants and manage.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

as long as you need, and after. doesn’t last all that long himself unless he tries really hard to pace himself, but his recovery time is terrifying.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i have a hard time imagining he owns one himself, but he’s most certainly down to incorporate them, whether he has to buy them or you already own them. i think he’s particularly fond of vibrators (simple but he quite likes what he can turn you into with them!) and butt plugs

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

over all, i dont think i’d consider him a particularly big tease. he has his moments, but i think it’s more likely *you’re* the one teasing him, even if you don’t mean to be. his teasing would usually come from you being flustered or easily aroused, because not only is it cute to him, but a massive ego boost to him. win win!

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

so sorry if you have a roommate and you guys do it at your place because boy is he ever LOUD he triessss not to sort of not really but he really cannot help it. will not and cannot stop yapping, let alone the *sounds* he makes — so much moaning and groaning and blah blah.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

has sneezed when he was yanking it and it was the most uncomfortable orgasm he can ever imagine

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

a shower, 7” long 6” girth he’s thicc, notably veiny but nothing overpowering. slightly curved. safe to say he’s quite satisfied with his package.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

not particularly high. he usually needs a reason to be turned on — however, once he has a partner, suddenly a reason is often presenting itself…..

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

usually won’t fall asleep fast unless it’s past his bedtime already. just doesn’t tire very easily.

#my work #hetalia #aph hetalia #hetalia hc #hetalia x reader #hetalia headcanons #hws hetalia #america x reader #aph america #alfred f jones #alfred f jones x reader #aph america x reader

[opticfile]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲

—✦ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 // in which alfred is a truck driver and you're his favorite stop

✧ i loooooove writing for alfred i love love love it hes my favorite to write for probably

—✦ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 // Alfred F Jones (APH America)

—✦ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 // swearing, reader is hit on by unwanted college boy, fluff, gn!reader

A few things help Alfred get through his days and nights. One is some music, another is phone calls with his buddies. Whatever it is, he just needs something to fill the dull air as he drives endlessly from one place to another. Singing along to a Gwen Stefani song (probably one from her No Doubt era) or dancing in his seat at red lights always helps keep his mood high. Waving to little kids in their mom’s backseats when they look up at him in awe and wonder is always nice, too, it makes him feel like more than just a truck driver, it’s like he’s Superman and flying over the city after saving the day.

But truth be told though, he’d have a hard time staying awake behind the wheel on especially hard days without his coffee. This man doesn’t exactly have the healthiest diet, especially not while driving, his passenger's seat is always full of fast-food bags and his cup holder always has soda or an energy drink lingering in it. Coffee, however, helps him start his day off right. It’s a tasty, warm energizer early in the morning when his eyes are still adjusting and his brain still isnt awake.

Yet the only thing that can get his day off to a good start better than coffee is you.

You’re a sweet college student, probably close to graduating, maybe a four-year degree, he thinks. You work at a cafe he frequents as often as he can, as long as he’s in the area it's his number one choice for his morning coffee and bagels. Half of it is because he really likes the coffee, the rest is because he likes seeing you.

You’re way too kind for someone working the early morning opening shift. You always smile at him and banter with him, no matter how clearly exhausted you are. And he’s way too cheery for a guy who wakes up at the ass-crack of dawn to drive a big ass truck around all day, so you guys have that one in common. You have a lot in common. Maybe you guys have matching eyebags, he thinks, or your voices are equally as groggy. 

But you always smile when he comes in, he's a regular at this point, the kind of regular who doesn't even need to order because the barista knows what he's getting. You always draw a little heart next to his name on his cup, sometimes lately you’ve been writing Alfie instead of Alfred, too. That one will never cease to make his heart stutter. You know exactly how much cream cheese he likes on his bagels, you know exactly how much cream to put in his coffee, and yeah maybe that's just because you’ve made the same order for him a gazillion times but he likes to think of it as something more intimate than it is. 

One time you complimented his hoodie, it had a little alien head embroidered over his heart, and “I come in peace!” was written over his back. You noticed it, you mentioned it, you complimented it, and he broke out into a grin.

“Really? I think it's great, too.” He said triumphantly. “My brother said it was corny, but you should see some of the shit he wears.”

“Corny? Maybe. Cute? Definitely.” You giggled, writing his name on a large cup. 

“You’re supposed to be on my side, you know.” He winked playfully, leaning on the counter and watching you as you made his drink. He’s seen you do it a thousand times, he never gets over how efficient you are.

“I said it was cute!” You said, defensively, a coy glint in your eyes. “But I can’t exactly lie to you, either.”

He laughed joyfully.

The first time Alfred saw you he thought you were cute, the second time he thought your haircut was cool. Now when he sees you it's like a puppy seeing his owner after they’ve been at work all day. He gets happy, his stomach does backflips like an Olympic gymnast, and he can’t stop smiling.

Most of the time it's just you, him, and one or two of your coworkers. Not many customers pop in so early—shocker, right?—so he gets to enjoy chatting with you until his coffee is ready before he has to set off on the road. 

Sometimes there’s another person in the cafe though, sometimes two. One time that other person was clearly a college guy, one who had no business being here this early, one that should be hungover and passed out on his frat house’s deck instead of leaning over the counter and trying to flirt with you.

That was probably the first time Alfred realized you weren’t just his barista friend, but his barista crush. What tipped him off? The fact he wanted to grab the guy by his collar and carry him out of the building like a mama cat carrying its kitten by the scruff of its neck.

He didn’t, by the way, he wouldn’t do that unless you asked him to.

Instead, he just grit his teeth as he waited in line behind the guy, listening as he dragged out the ordering process to drop some lame pickup line that made his skin crawl—and yours too, judging by the awkward smile on your face and the forced laugh you humored him with. Alfred definitely wanted to groan out loud at that point. When the guy finally got the hint and left, Al walked up to the counter with a smile, and your shoulders relaxed and you sighed. 

“Long time, no see, partner.” You smiled tiredly up at him. 

It had been a long time, maybe a week or two, and he realized he missed you all that time, too. 

“Yeah, it’s great to be back in town.” He tipped his ballcap like he was tipping a cowboy hat, a dumb grin on his face. He didn’t have to place his order, you knew already.

You giggled softly at that. Was it just him or were you more exhausted than usual? Maybe the weirdo hitting on you drained your social battery or something, maybe it was finals week or something. 

“Great to have you back, I missed my favorite regular.” 

“Aw, you tellin’ me you have other regulars?” He clutched his pears in faux shock, acting hurt for dramatic effect. Somewhere to your left, your coworker snorted.

“Maybe, but none of them are as cool as you.” You grinned. “And none of them have such easy orders, either.”

“I’m a simple man, what can I say.” 

When you handed him his coffee and bagel, your fingers brushed his, and he felt a tingle go down his arm for a split second. Then you winked, and he felt one in his heart.

To say you felt any different than him would be a lie.

Alfred was definitely your favorite regular, that was no joke when you said it to him no matter how playful your tone was. He was always sweet and respectful and always cheered you up when you were barely dragging yourself through your shift.

The first time he came in you thought he was hot, the second time he came in you thought he was funny, and now when he comes in you feel a breath of fresh air cut through the coffee-scented air and your heart speeds up momentarily at his smile.

His smile always got to you. It was so attractive, he had such nice straight teeth and his lips framed them perfectly. It felt like a beautiful oil painting framed in gold or something. What came out of those lips was no different, his voice was always pleasing to the ears, and sometimes he came in sounding like he just rolled out of bed, and that was also pleasing. 

Alfred’s presence was the best part of your week, everything else sucked if you were being honest. Your coworkers made it really hard to feel positive when they were so bitter because they had to do the job they applied for. Your patience was thinning every day, and honestly when that guy from one of your classes showed up you felt like quitting then and there. Thankfully he never came back, if he did you probably would’ve thrown down your apron as soon as he entered. 

As much as you hate to say it, Alfred alone wasn't enough for you to want to keep the job. So you turned in your two weeks, you found a new job—one much more impressive than “barista”—and you counted the days until you were free from your coffee-stained shackles.

The last week of your job you didn’t see Alfred once, and you were starting to get anxious that you wouldn’t see him again. Maybe you could get one of your lazy coworkers to give him your number, or you could show up every morning until he was there. 

(that was in no way plausible, you barely even wanted to show up now and you work there)

But, to your relief, on your last day, Alfred popped through the window. His blue eyes shone through his glasses, his blonde hair was a mess, and he was wearing a hoodie with his iconic bomber jacket over it. He looked warm, he looked good. He grinned widely at you, shooting you finger-guns as he approached the counter.

“If it isn’t my favorite barista!” 

“And my favorite customer returns! I was getting worried, you know.” You smiled back, grabbing a cup for his drink.

“Aw, I always come back to this place! If you didn’t see me today, you’d see me tomorrow or next week or something.” He promised.

“I actually wouldn’t.” You said, “Because I wouldn’t be here.”

Alfred paused, “What’d’ya mean?”

“It’s my last day.” You smiled, glancing back up to him momentarily and catching the way his lips tugged down slightly.

“Like… forever?” He asked.

“Yup, I got myself a shiny new job.” You boasted.

“So I won’t get my morning coffee from you anymore?” He leaned on the counter, his voice seemed disappointed.

“Uh,” You pulled your eyes away from the coffee machine to meet his, “Yeah. Not anymore.”

He nodded slowly, “I won’t get to see you again, then?”

You chuckled to yourself, “Of course you will, silly.”

“I will?”

“Yeah, did you think I would part ways with you without giving you my number or something?” You grinned.

Slowly, he did too. His eyes twinkled and his chest shook in laughter. “I’d sure hope not.”

You smiled, face warming a little as he stared at you intently. This time, when you handed him his coffee and bagel your number was written beneath his name. 

“So, your number-?”

“It’s on the cup.” You noted.

“Got it. Yeah. I’ll- I’ll call you.” He grinned, walking backward for a moment before ripping his eyes away from your face and walking out the door feeling like a giddy teenage girl.

Today his day got off to an amazing start. Coffee always helped with that, but you? You always made it ten times better.

✧ navigation.

#opticfile ✧༺࿐ #hetalia #hetalia world series #aph hetalia #hetalia axis powers #aph america #hetalia world stars #hetalia world twinkle #hws #hws america #aph america x reader #hws america x reader #alfred f jones #america x reader #alfred f jones x reader #alfred jones x reader #hetalia america

[aph-fritz]

~ ☀ sun!america x moon!reader ☾ ~

“Hi there! Could I please request dating headcanons for America, where the relationship has sunxmoon dynamic?? I like to think of Alfred as a energy boost and encouragement for his s/o, while the other one provides comfort and peace to ease his everyday struggles :))” via @blacktac

~ ☀ x ☾ ~

hi !! oh man, how exciting !! my first request, wtf <3 i hope this is written well !! i rlly love alfred so it’s awesome getting some stuff done for him. waugh he would be a total ray of sunshine, we all know it >:D - fritz

~ ☀ x ☾ ~

> when you two first met, i like to imagine you were somewhere casual admiring the scenery. maybe a museum? or a zoo? a park is a beautiful first meet spot! you’d be drawing the landscape or writing about the moment, taking in every bit of the experience while you blocked out the outside world.

> wait? what’s that? oh boy. some random guy sat by you and it’s really hard to ignore his eyes gluing themselves to your paper (or laptop!). it doesn't take long before he starts up a conversation. you didn’t input much, but it helped that this guy was really talkative. he honestly really didn’t bother you one bit. it was no surprise that you two exchanged numbers after the incident. 

> every once in a while, you two would bump into each other. light talks about the newest marvel or dc movie, prompts to grab coffee with each other, you’ve come to really adore alfred’s company. so when the ball of sunshine asked you to be his partner while watching a movie at your place, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. 

> your relationship with alfred would be sort of picture-esq. he would always wake up first and give you a soft kiss on your forehead, heading to the kitchen to make both you and him a warm breakfast. he enjoyed serving things to you in bed, wanting to make sure you got all of the proper rest you needed. while you ate, alfred would do a quick sweep of the house, take out the trash, and then begin to casually bring up getting a dog (he does this every day. the answer is always ‘maybe soon’. alfred doesn’t know that you’re waiting for this perfect litter of golden retrievers to be born to get him one). 

> you and him have two different versions of ‘having an enjoyable day off’. alfred tries to drag you along to the local highschool’s baseball games when you just want to stay home and catch up on one of your netflix series. 

> one day, you finally agree to join alfred in one of the games. you listened to him in the car ramble about how baseball rules work. he got front row seats and was almost always the loudest guy to cheer, not even caring which team won, as long as you had a good time. and trust me, you did when you realized a ball was coming right towards you, catching it sloppily but catching it still. alfred lost his mind, and a surge of excitement rushed through your body. you bet alfred got the entire team to sign the ball. he wouldn’t stop talking about it the entire ride home and made sure to put it in the cabinet when you and him got home. 

> being the bright ball of sunshine however can get… very exhausting. trust me. sometimes alfred could come home and look very down in the dumps. it doesn’t take much convincing to find out what happened. oh no… an actor he admired passed away today. you were a bit confused, especially since that actor was in their prime over 60 or so years ago and wasn’t in anything recent, but you weren’t one to judge interest. your go to way to comfort your boyfriend was to make him some hot chocolate and cuddle on the couch. 

> you took this opportunity to introduce alfred to writing. it was a refreshing way to express your emotions, and alfred took to it immediately. he was able to sit and write all day, treating the computer like a diary. having a personal place to dump his emotions into helped alfred relax and calm down as a very high energy person. although he doesn’t write as much as he used to when you first introduced him to the idea, he still spends 10-20 minutes before bed writing about the day.

> you were more of a night owl, staying up much later than alfred. you would be drawing or writing to relieve yourself of the day’s stress. alfred wouldn’t stay up long after you and him got settled down. you noticed he tends to sleep in very funny positions, leading you to eventually keep a little notebook of silly doodles that you made of alfred while he passed out. 

> you and alfred both did so much for each other. he helped you become a more open person while you helped him find ways to wind down and relax himself. you both spend your days together very happy, every once in a while visiting the place you both met and reminiscing on the memories.

~ ☀ x ☾ ~

THANK U SM FOR UR REQUEST !! honestly i had a blast writing this and i hope u enjoy reading it !!! alfred lovers unite augshgdfhhdg <333

#hetalia #hetalia x reader #america x reader #alfred f jones x reader #america #america hetalia #aph hetalia #aph america #aph alfred f jones #x reader headcanons #x reader

[tahanann]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

❝ To whoever finds these letters, I hope they reach you well ❞ ✎▫✧⭒....

Fandom: Hetalia Relationship: F/M Pairing: Alfred F. Jones (America) / (Female) Reader Chapter list: 00, 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14 Also posted on: AO3, Wattpad, Quotev

Chapter 13: " He's gone. " ✎▫✧⭒…

Everything in the world was still right now. The heat had recently swept through (Y/n)'s city, causing an overwhelming amount of warmth in the streets. A slight cold breeze had been a saving grace to the citizens having to deal with the current heatwave. Many people were in their homes or visiting malls to cool off. Lazing around was a popular activity for those who chose to stay in their homes.

(Y/n) was included in that bunch.

The young woman had been laying down on a picnic blanket underneath a tree in her backyard. The tree had been there ever since she's gotten this place and it was certainly a favorite of hers. The branches, with or without their leaves, gave her company whenever she had restless nights. It had been like a friend, who trudged through, giving the shadows that covered her from the moon's light. 

Her eyes stare up at the tree, watching little critters run around. Squirrels had made this tree their home. The sun's rays peeked through gaps between leaves, illuminating some of (Y/n)'s features.

Despite the radiance she received from the sun, she was as dull as ever. The young woman still struggled with her mental health but she took advice from her parents and close friends. She had to cave in because the days had been getting rather difficult to trudge through. With a bit of therapy and support from everyone, things have been much more bearable. 

Work was going smoother now and she was able to socialize as much as before. Felicia and Matthew had been giving her some food through their countless house visits over the past few weeks. Her separated parents found time to call her to check in after she told them about her struggles. They were caring, understanding, and kind. 

They had promised to look after her years ago and they were fulfilling it. 

It was safe to say that (Y/n) was surrounded by people that loved her, but the same can't be said for her love life. Her relationship with her main romantic interest was blurry right now. Her heart ached for a man who likely has a wife and grandchildren by now, but he was possibly not even alive anymore. Either way, the bridge she had built cannot even reach her destination. A restless fog had covered her sights for the end of the bridge. 

It was impossible to cross.

This relationship had been the main source of her misery and (Y/n) had been aware of it for so long. She always thought she could make it work and she fails to see that it has been steering in the wrong direction. The young woman devoted her love to a man that, she believed, loves her back. No one else but Matthew and Felicia knew about this. 

Thank god her parents didn't know. They'd tell her to fully detach herself from him, which seems like something she just can't do. She loved him too much and there was a lot to lose, seeing how her mental health hinges on the very thought of him.

Jones. 

(Y/n) shook her head, dismissing her thoughts. She cannot let herself get lost thinking about him again. Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh, before she opened them once more. The sun was still there, the sky was still as blue as ever, and the tree was still green and brown. She was still laying on a picnic blanket with containers of food surrounding her. 

Evidence of her picnic with Matthew earlier today. 

After a while of sky-watching, the young woman sits up. She pushes her hands through her hair as she adjusts to her new position. She blinked once, twice, three times, before continuing to push herself up to a stand. She gathered the remnants of today's activity and headed into her cold home. The backyard lays dormant for the rest of the afternoon, as (Y/n) once again cooped up in her house. 

The tv in the dark living room played noise in the background as she cooked dinner for one, with a little extra to be served as leftovers for tomorrow. The warm, orange light of the kitchen illuminates her form, but she remains cold always. The heat had left her home as soon as the sun disappeared. The temperature was deathly cold.

Her hands weren't shivering, but there was a chill pressed against her back, overseeing her chop vegetables and put them all in a pot. (Y/n) paid no mind to the presence, as she had been accustomed to it. The cold was always there, hugging her whenever possible. It lived here with her, almost like a partner, and she's grown to love it. 

As a matter of fact, she's always been in love with it. 

She only saw him once, but she always felt him. He was here, always stalking her during the night and disappearing for the morning. The moon energized him, (Y/n) believed), and she was fine with it. She supposed she could use the company.

(Y/n) hummed softly to herself as she finished cooking. It was done now and she could finally dine in the comfort of her living room. Wherever she went, the cold drifted alongside her. It sat beside her on the couch as she played something on the tv to keep her distracted from her thoughts. She ate her dinner, watched for a little while, and eventually went away to follow her usual nightly routine.

Afterward, she rested on her bed, her eyes staring at the abyss. The light of the moon seeped through the gaps between the leaves of the tree and the window, illuminating the area just a bit. It wasn't enough to keep the apparitions from appearing above her. 

Beside her was her phone, playing a random song to fill up the silence. Her (e/c) eyes continue to gaze at the darkness. She tried finding the sparkle of broken glasses again, though he did not appear. Not after that other night, after her dad's visit, did he appear again. The specter she wanted to believe was Jones never showed itself to her again. The ghosts that she saw tonight were the cells in her eyes, floating around in their liquid casing. 

Although she can't see him, she could feel him. The room is still as cold as ever, even if she had her blanket around her. There wasn't a hint of pressure beside her, but he was somewhere here. Watching her, protecting her, she'd liked to believe. The company didn't make her fall asleep, however. There was anxiety gnawing her insides. 

There were only two letters left in the box, and the decline Jones has been going through has not been bright. There were a few light-hearted letters but (Y/n) felt as if that was an attempt to make himself feel better. The war wasn't going well, or at least that's what Jones believed. (Y/n) feared that the last two letters will be anything but good news.

She had every right to think about it that way. 

Even if it was going to be good news, it'll end terribly for her. She'd lose him. The letters are all she had of the soldier.

The young woman continued to stare at the ceiling, letting her fears chew her insides. Eventually, through fatigue, she would fall into a deep sleep, only to wake early in the morning. The sun barely peeked through the horizon. The room was still cold, but only because of the morning chill that occupied her home. The presence that watched over her was gone. (Y/n) was truly alone in her room. 

The (h/c)-haired lady stayed in her room for a few hours, unmoving from her position. She'd pondered and imagined scenarios in her head to make her feel better. It distracted her from the gloom that came with opening the second to last letter. When she had enough energy, she stood up and proceeded with her morning routine. 

There, in the bathroom, she felt him. A cold spot was in the corner, and behind the shadows of her door, she saw a figure. The glint was barely visible, but she could make out his form. (Y/n) stared at the apparition, connecting eyes with him for a moment, before he would fade into the darkness of the shadow. From the mirror, she continued to maintain eye contact. Her body was unmoving, fearing if she did move, he would too. 

Her heart ached. 

"Come back, I want to see you," she'd say. This was the second time she'd see him. But the ghost wouldn't comply, for he had already expended energy to be slightly visible today. It may be that her eyes were just seeing things, but (Y/n) believed it was him. Her still body would eventually move to finish the rest of her routine. When she left, he'd appear within the darkness of her unlit bathroom. (Y/n) felt him move with her, just hovering around. 

She stared at the box that held the letters. The second one was sitting on her lap, ready to be opened, but her focus was on the last one that sat at the bottom of the box. Biting her lip, she turned her attention to the one already out of the container. She swallowed her emotions and ripped open the envelope. She didn't want to scan the letter.

It was all going to be the same.

"Good morning, Jones," (Y/n)'s voice cracked at the mention of his name. "How are you feeling?"

She already knew the answer.

To my darling angel, The operation at the beach was a success, but unfortunately, angel, I'm heavily wounded. I don't think I have that much time to live and I'm okay with that, honestly. I've come to accept that my death is nearing. There's not that much for me to live for anyway. Alex...he's gone. He died the day we stormed the beach. He told me he was going to live but he immediately got shot the moment the ramp opened. It's only been a few days since I last saw him but his image is still burned into my memory. Him, along with the annoying thoughts continue to haunt me. I think death is the only way to get them out of there. I'm the only one left out of my friends anyway. Nobody at home will miss me too much. All my friends are dead because of me and I can't handle the guilt of it all. I can't. It's always been my fault. I've already told Ma and Pa about giving up. They tell me to keep living, but it's hard. I don't want to have them deal with me. I know by the time I come back home, I'm not going to have an easy life. I'm so fucked up, it'll be so hard for me to get accustomed to civilian life again. I'll have so many problems and I don't want Ma and Pa dealing with all of that. I'd rather just get rid of the problem and spare them the trouble. I would live for you but I think it'd be useless. You don't love me anymore. You don't even think about me anymore, so what's the point? You've already, probably, tossed the letter aside. But that's okay. I understand. I won't hold any grudges against you because I know it's hard to love me. If you ever live with me after the war, you'd have the same problems as Ma and Pa. Leaving would make everyone feel better. I'll still love you regardless, even in my dying breath, my angel, I'll still love you. I've always told myself that I'd be your protector, so maybe, if God is good and great, he'll let me. At night, I'll be there, to make sure you're safe and happy. Maybe I can watch over you. I'd forever be the moon to your stars, my darling. I've been in and out of consciousness, or so I've been told. I've been in this med-bay for a while now and I know I can't make it out of here alive. It's kind of funny. I've always wondered what it was like to have death at my doorstep. I thought he'd be cold and overbearing, but he's actually a pretty sweet guy and gives people warmth and comfort whenever they need it. I feel him everywhere in this warm medical bay. He's always been by my side, waiting for my time and I'm afraid that it's already nearing. He sits on my bed and watches over me like the nurses and doctors that tend to my wounds every day.  He's here with me right now while I'm writing this letter. He's telling me that I should write down everything I want to say to you. He's telling me to snap out of it though, but how can I? The very thought of you gives me comfort. Maybe one day, I will, but for as long as I breathe, I'll forever think about you. My vision is fading, baby. I pray to God he'll let me write to you once more. Just one more day, angel, and maybe another. I want to see you again in my dreams. Maybe he'll let me since I can sleep peacefully now. Forever yours, Jones

(Y/n) looked at the letter in her hands, resonating with his acceptance. Her hands tightly gripped the paper as she stared at his writing. It was messy in some parts, but he tried to be neat. There were tear stains on the aged paper. The young woman had a feeling that, even if he said he accepted death, there was a part of him that didn't want to go. He was still in his youth. He wanted to live but what he went through made it impossible for him. 

The (h/c)-haired woman doesn't know the extent of his injuries, but the way he put it, he was gravely wounded. Even if he could be honorably discharged, his wounds make living life impossible. (Y/n) hated having to think about him in this state, but that's all she had in her mind. The thought of him being confined to a bed all his life, drinking medicine to overcome the pain.

It hurt her.

Though, the thought of him dying too, hurt her just as much. 

(Y/n) placed the letter against her lips, giving him her usual send-off. "I pray for your recovery, Jones," the young woman would say. She knew the inevitable was coming, but she wanted to believe that he was able to change his mind and fight for his life. The last letter in the box might be proof that he's moved on from his beloved and he went on to live a long, prosperous life. 

Despair lingered around her as she tucked the piece of paper back into its envelope. She stared at the aged paper for a bit before hiding it in her drawer. She lingered at her bed for a moment, as she felt a presence surround her. She could only smile before she'd shed a tear and cry out the emotions in her chest. 

She'd muster her feelings at some point and put them all in a bottle for future use. (Y/n) left her bed, with her phone in her hand, and went to the bathroom to freshen up once more. She put on a bit of makeup and redness-correcting eyedrops to mask the fact that she ended up crying this morning. A notification ping echoed in the bathroom.

Matthew must be here. 

He organized another hang-out with her today because he said he was feeling "a bit lonely". (Y/n) knew it was just a way for him to check up on her. He was aware that they were coming up on the last few days of her obsession. He wanted to make sure that she can get out of this situation alive and well. With the way (Y/n)'s been acting, both of them knew that it'll end in an emotional spiral. Matthew wanted to be there for her when that happens. 

The young woman stared at her appearance in the mirror and tugged the corners of her lips to fabricate a smile. It was good enough to wear. She sent her friend a text saying that she was going to get ready. She changed her clothes, fixed her hair, and made her way out with her belongings at hand. Matthew was standing outside her door, holding his fluffy, white dog with the leash.

"Hey. There you are," Williams grinned as he sent a wave to his friend. "Come on. If we don't leave soon, the beach is gonna be filled with a ton of people and we won't have a spot for us." Kuma barked in agreement with his owner, causing (Y/n) to genuinely smile.

"I've already got my things so we can start heading out now." The young woman went over to the Canadian's car and placed her few things in the trunk. Kuma had already hopped onto the backseat, already secured and ready for the trip. (Y/n) rode shotgun with Matthew in the driver's seat. She was given the aux cord so she played whatever music interested her at the moment. 

The drive to the beach was long but comfortably quiet. Somewhere through the drive, (Y/n) managed to fall asleep. It may have been general fatigue that knocked her out, or maybe it was due to the crying session she had prior to the trip. Maybe it was simply a little bit of both. 

Matthew often looked to his side to check on his friend. His focus was on the road, sure, but when they were stopped at a light, he would take his glances. A sigh left him when he saw signs of what happened to her before he appeared at her door steps. Despite her going to therapy, it was still taking a toll on her. Matthew would know. He's been there before, though it wasn't as heavy hitting as hers. 

He's always pondered how she got here, but he never fully dwelled on the thought for too long. Many people have different ways of getting to that point. It would be hard for him to understand where she was. She was dealing with a tough situation and he was only going to be there to support her.

Not question her. 

The day was still relatively young when they arrived at the beach. It took them a while to get a parking spot but they were here. Just the two of them, at the beach. Other people were near the shore, like families and couples that took their afternoon strolls. (Y/n) sat around with Kuma as Matthew set up most of their things, from the umbrella to the cooler that held the snacks he prepared earlier today.

Kuma panted, feeling the heat warm him up. With a dog that had such a thick coat, he was barely surviving in this heat. What kept him going was the fan that had been pointed at his face. (Y/n) sat by the hound's side, staring at the clear blue water surrounding the grey beach. The sounds of people and the water comforted (Y/n), but there was a thought that stayed in her mind. 

Jones.

A few letters ago, he mentioned pretty beaches and how he's always wanted to visit one with his significant other. As she stared at the water that threatened to come by their towels, she thought of him and his wish. She wanted to fulfill that with him, but she wasn't his. She could be, in her mind, but in reality, she can't. 

Her eyes envisioned him with her. The image she's created of him may not be true to life, but this was her Jones. His glasses were pristine and his smile was stuck on his face. He wore his green uniform, his hat, and sparkling medals on his chest. He was with her and he was well. Though the image of him disappeared when Matthew called out to her.

"You're blanking out," the blonde told her. He sat in front of her, with his back turned toward the waves. "Here. I got some snacks from the cooler. I dunno if you've already eaten yet, but it'd be nice to have something for the stomach, you know." Matthew had a sweet smile on his face as he handed his friend the food he packed for today. (Y/n) stared at it and nodded her head.

"Thank you, Mattie." She'd take a bite and feel slightly better. She'd turn her gaze away to look at the spot Jones had been. Matthew noticed her look and did the same, finding no one near them, though he could find a couple playing in the water. Her eyes were still blank and it looked like she was having a hard time focusing on the moment.

"I know there's something on your mind, (Y/n)," Matthew confronted her. 

"I'm fine," she mumbled.

Matthew noticed the sign and decided to give up almost immediately. He'd wait for her to tell him. It's no use trying to pry open something that didn't want to be opened. He would sit next to his dog, Kuma, who was now laying down on the blankets. The fan that kept him cool was still whirring in front of him as he took his afternoon nap. 

The Canadian stared out to sea, watching the water crash onto the shore. (Y/n) was doing the same, except her eyes saw something different. Her beloved soldier was there, playing in the water, smiling at her. His speck of green stood out in the sea of blue.

She was seeing things. 

The duo shared the silence as they sat around. (Y/n) broke their peace by saying, "Did you know...the letters mentioned a beach." Matthew looked to his friend, his eyebrow arching, asking her to continue. 

"Jones...he wanted to go to the beach with his girlfriend," (Y/n) continued, "he was stationed at a beach when he wrote that letter. All he ever thought about was her, you know. It pains me a lot to think about it. How he might not even get to see her at a beach." The young woman hugged her legs, but her (e/c)-colored eyes continued to stare at the sea. 

"I opened another letter today. The second to last one." There was hesitance in her voice. "He's dying, Matthew. And I'm scared that the last letter- tomorrow's letter- might be his written will." The man she was talking to would continue to be silent so she could voice her thoughts. That's all she needed to do anyway, to make herself feel just a bit better.

"I don't want to lose him. You know this already. That last letter is going to be the death of me."

Matthew's periwinkle eyes stared at his friend as he listened to her. "You know you have to let him go eventually. You can't let some dead soldier hang onto you and break you like this, (Y/n)." He hated seeing her go through something as painful as this, especially since her pain is coming from a dead man. Matthew can't confront the dead. 

(Y/n) dipped her head and let out a muffled, "I know." Her heart broke just a bit when Matthew spoke to her. She knows he's right, but she's stubborn. She'll let Jones break her anyway. Matthew reached out to her and placed a hand on her back. He could feel her breaths becoming shallow. She was going to lose it. The blonde did his best to comfort her, through small rubs and pats on her shoulders. 

He'd help her with breathing exercises and they worked, for the most part. It's hard to get rid of her thoughts about Jones though. Matthew didn't know that the beach would have such an effect on her. He should have planned this outing better. A hum leaves the Canadian as he looked at his friend. The friends connected gazes and smiled at each other. 

"I'm okay," (Y/n) would tell him. They knew both she wasn't, but she was going to try and be better. Looking back at the sea, she'd spot the blue again. The speck of green was still there and the faint apparition of Jones lingered in the water. He no longer had a pristine uniform. Dried blood coated his haunting form and his glasses were cracked. She could never see his face but she always looked out for his smile. 

It wasn't there anymore.

(Y/n) stared at the figure in the water, before the wave crashed over him, making him disappear completely. The young woman's lips pursed together and forced a smile. She hasn't told anyone about the visions she's been seeing because she knew that people would think of her as insane. No one would believe her if she said she was being haunted by the object of her fascination.

They spent today's afternoon lazing around the shore under the umbrella and playing. They build sandcastles and buried each other under the sand to distract (Y/n) from her thoughts. At the end of it all, they walked Kuma down the shore, letting the heated pup wet his feet to cool down. Kuma ended up being drenched in seawater, which Matthew had to clean once they were home.

To say that the beach hangout was a success would be a lie, but (Y/n) enjoyed spending time with her friend, Matthew. The blonde walked her to her home and made sure to give her his usual send-off for the night. He gently wrapped his arms around her for an embrace and kept her close for a bit. (Y/n) relished the hug and laughed a little when she felt her friend squeeze her.

"Good night, Mattie," she would say.

"Good night, (Y/n)," he'd reply back. "I trust you. Please don't do anything bad."

"I won't."

The two friends drifted apart and sent each other their final waves for the night. (Y/n) disappeared inside her cold, dark home. She lingered in there for a moment with her eyes scanning her surroundings for a hint of green amongst the void. Nothing, per usual. She turned on the lights of her home and got ready for dinner and her nightly routine.

It was the same old. Nothing ever changed. 

The young woman would rest her head on her pillow and stare at the void that wrapped around her. She'd feel pressure at the foot of the bed, finding a glimpse of green. 

This is the third time- now.

He moved ever so slightly in the dark. His broken glasses gleamed underneath the moonlight. (Y/n) stared at him before she moved. Her hand met his bloodied fingers halfway and they lingered there.

He was cold, colder than her freezer, colder than the artic, but the smile he held was warm and comforting. The young woman couldn't tell if she was hallucinating things or if his apparition was truly there. He began to shift into a blur the more she stared at him. 

"Stay-" (Y/n)'s meek voice called out. His form could only smile.

Then he was gone. 

"No-" she'd whispered after. Her fingers curled into a fist as she hugged her legs. Tears swelled in her eyes as she cried. This night would leave her with no sleep, as her tears and thoughts kept her awake. There was no need to worry though. She doesn't have work for another day, anyway.

The sun would rob the moon's spotlight, filling the world with light. It would seep through the tree that hid (Y/n)'s window. The young woman was at her bed as still as a rock. Her eyes were unmoving, staring at the ceiling, and waiting for the day to pass. 

Today was the last day, then after that, no more letters. A year has passed already, but it didn't feel like it. 

She'd lose energy but she could never regain it. (Y/n) lacked the need to sleep as her mind was constantly busy. She'd move a limb, then another, until she's fully out of bed. She moved like the undead, trudging along her floor until she managed to limp to the bathroom. The darkness of it all gave her comfort. Her (e/c)-colored eyes looked for green but found nothing. 

With a sigh, she turned on her lights and continued what she would usually do in the morning. (Y/n) corrected the bags under her eyes and practiced smiling. She's been doing this for a while now and there hasn't been significant progress. She could never feel truly happy.

Approaching the final day made her more miserable. 

But unlike Jones, she has too much to live for. She needed to keep fighting whatever was bringing her down.

Once finished, she appeared in her bedroom again. (Y/n) looked at the spot she knew held the box. Her stare was intense and her body was as still as she could get. Anxiety filled her stomach immediately but she reached forward and opened it. 

The last letter sat comfortably in its spot, waiting to be opened. (Y/n) didn't want to, but she knew she had to. Biting her lip, she plucked it from the bottom. There was something odd about this one. It was heavier than the others. It threw the woman off, but she pushed forward and she gently ripped the envelope.

The letter had been folded neatly inside and there were a few souvenirs too. The young woman knew that the man enjoyed sending home gifts, but these were different. She opened the paper and found dog tags and a black and white photo. (Y/n) looked at the photograph first. 

There was a man posing for his photo. He appeared to have blonde hair and bright eyes with small, square glasses sitting atop his nose. His complexion was clear and pale but flushed cheeks. He had a gleaming smile that completed everything. He wore a dark uniform that held no badges or metals. The soldier was young, handsome, and didn't have a care in the world.

(Y/n) turned the photo around to find writing in pen that said, "Me! Send copies to Ma, Pa, and Mattie when able!" There was no mention of a feminine name anywhere, but that wasn't what she was hyper-fixated on right now. Her thoughts revolved around the idea that she can put a face to him now. Her heart jumped for joy, but at the same time, she brought herself down. 

This was the last letter. She can't envision him after this is over. The fact made her emotional, which was enough to put some tears in her eyes. She placed his photo down and looked at the dog tags that accompanied the letter. 

"Alfred F. Jones," she whispered. That was his name. Alongside it were numbers, his blood type, his religion, and another name, though this didn't seem like his girlfriend or anything. She was thinking it was his mother since it said "Mrs. F. Jones."

(Y/n) could be heard muttering his name over and over again. She still had the urge to call him Jones. Placing the memorabilia down, she turned her attention to the letter. It was pristine, but she finally noticed there were a few blood splotches on the edges. It's aged, dried blood, which was a cause of concern for her, but it didn't matter. 

None of it matters anymore. 

"Good morning, Alfred," she'd greet. It was much more personal now. "How are you doing, darling?" She'd try to make herself feel better, but the greeting caught her off guard. It sounded like he was distancing himself away. He didn't call her angel anymore.

To whoever finds these letters, I hope they reach you well. I don't have that much time left in me, but I'd like to write down my feelings and my thoughts. I'm not asking for big audience, but if there is one, and you're the one, please listen to me. That's all I ask. I've been given a lot of paper, so I have enough to put down everything. At least I think so anyway. They say I can always ask for more, but I doubt I can. Breathing is getting significantly harder for me, but I'm trying to live just so I can write. I'm trying to unpack so that in the next life, I'll be given a fresh start. I want to leave everything here in my old body. I don't necessarily believe in the afterlife or in reincarnation, but I just want to leave my baggage here. Experiencing the near end of my life has given me a lot to think about. I've always thought it's impossible to find clarity in death, but now I'm getting first-hand experience and I can't help but think it's funny. I used to think it was strange but now I'm going through it right now. I've found peace in knowing that I'm going to leave soon and that has given me a clear head. I hope this is the first letter you've read because the past ones, the ones that will be sent to my home with this one, are filled with nonsense from a grieving madman. I don't care if you send these letters to a museum, just don't send them to my parents. Send them specifically to my house. If they've seen that their son has gone utterly insane over the years would hurt so much. You can put this anywhere you want, actually, just as long as someone reads them. It could be you, it could be anyone willing to listen to me. I just want to be heard. I want to be seen. I want others to know how a man can suffer because of this war. I don't know when you'll be finding these. You could be reading this years after I die. Just- you know, if you do happen to see my letters, please treat them with care, or not. Throw them away, just- please read them or send them somewhere where people actually care. You can even send it to a museum or something.  Leave the rest of these letters unopened so the curators can read them. They'll treat these with care, that is if they are still in good health and these letters are legible, but if you want, you can also take care of them. I don't know why, though, but if you think it's fine then be my guest. But if this is the last letter you've read, then I have a few words to tell you. Thank you, and I'm sorry you've had the misfortune of knowing me. I appreciate the fact that you've read everything because that's all I needed. I just needed someone to listen to me, even if it'll take days or years for someone to find these. You could be anyone, really, and I wouldn't care who you are because regardless, I appreciate you. I'm grateful for your patience and your sympathy because the Lord knows someone like me doesn't deserve it. The thought of someone finding these letters and reading them is enough to make me happy on my deathbed. Thank you so much for taking the time of your day to listen to me and my stupid, incoherent ramblings. Hey, you've been with me the entire journey. You made it this far. If I caused something to you while you're reading the past few letters please know I didn't mean to hurt you. I appreciate your sympathy, I genuinely do, but I am deeply sorry for the pain I may have caused. I've caused too much to other people and the last thing I want is for another person to be hurt because of me.

There were tear stains on the next few pages, but they were still legible. The paper seems fresh too, but it looks somewhat aged.

My darling angel, This is to you personally. I know you're reading this because you've come this far and haven't discarded me yet. I have one thing to confess and I hope that you can listen to me and forgive me. I've hurt you the most and I realize this might hurt you even more. Please, I ask for you to forgive me and listen to the words I have to say. Throughout my life, I didn't think angels ever existed. I'm not a religious man myself, but through the course of the war, I've started to believe God placed an angel to watch over me. You kept me happy and made me sane when things were rough. But the thing is- You never existed. You were never a physical person. In a way, you made me go mad. With some clarity, I realize that creating you was just my brain reaching for ways to feel better. Maybe my silent prayers were heard and God actually placed an angel to be with me from the start. Maybe I willed you into existence. But- You initially came in a form of a joke. I pretended to have a girlfriend because I felt left out. I thought it was funny to pretend to have someone to love. The rest of my friends had their own girlfriends to write to, but I was the only one who didn't have one. So I decided to play along and pretend that you existed, but then the more I wrote to you, a person who doesn't even exist, you became something to me.  You never had a physical body because you stemmed from my imagination. I projected to you the qualities I had. I also gave you hobbies I wanted to see. I believed that you were listening to me because Lord knows that's all I needed while I was fighting this damn stupid war. I made myself fall in love with the idea of you, which is by far the stupidest but the best thing I've done in my life. While I was thinking of you, you felt so real to me. It came to the point where I thought you were a living, breathing person that could actually write back to me. Everyone else was getting letters and I didn't. Not getting anything from you made me frustrated, but I held on to you so much because you're all I had. It pains me that you never existed, because I would have loved you so much, wholeheartedly. I would have done everything for you because the idea of you made me so happy. You were my everything.  I find my words weird and crazy the more I write them now, but this is how I genuinely feel. I fell in love with a figment of my imagination, but if by some miracle, you truly exist, I would have loved to see you. To hold you, to bring you out on dates, to kiss you. I want to do everything with you and I hope that in another life, I get to meet you. God has to be merciful enough to give me another chance. Maybe I'll win the life lottery in the next one, eh? I genuinely am sorry for the pain I've caused you. I've tried making it up to you. I promised you that I'd be the moon to your stars, that I'd be there to protect you. I've done all I can. I don't know if I could ever become a ghost, or whatever the hell exists out there, but if I could, I would be there at night, watching over you. I'd keep any dangers away from you because I'd hate to see you get hurt.  I've already hurt you so much, I don't want anything else harming you.  I know it's a lot to unpack. I know I've rambled. I know I've said a lot of shit, but it's all how I feel. This is the baggage I'll leave this body. I know I don't have that much time anymore so I'll cut it here. Breathing is getting hard for me but hey, I think I'll die peacefully. Thank you, my darling. I hope I get to see you in another life. I'll find my way to you again. I promise. I love you. Lovingly, and always forever yours, Alfred

Silence hung in (Y/n)'s bedroom as she stared at the letter in her hands. He was right. There is a lot to unpack, but the young woman doesn't have enough strength to handle it right now. Her vision is blurred with her tears, which dripped down to the paper. Her hands were shaking and soon enough her body would follow. 

Heat seeped through her room, but the area in front of her was deathly cold. Rubbing tears from her eyes, she could see just a bit clearer. Before her was an apparition of Alfred. He wore a clean, green uniform with brand-new glasses. The rest of him was in black and white, mimicking his appearance in his photograph.

Alfred knelt in front of her with his hands cupping her own. He held his usual bright smile but tears also ran down his cheeks. 

"I love you too, Alfred," she'd whisper. "I loved you so much."

They stared into each other's eyes. Slowly, he'd rise and press his lips against hers. 

A final parting gift.

The young woman would take at this moment and she'd close her eyes. They lingered for a bit before he'd leave. There were no more traces of him in her vision. She stared at the clear floor. The perpetual cold temperature of her room disappeared completely and the heavyweight that constantly rested on her shoulders disappeared.

Her mind was given clarity, but her chest was heavy with grief. This was the general grief experienced after losing a loved one though. It wasn't like the one she's felt over the past few months. She didn't feel the world on her shoulders anymore.

But this was at the cost of Jones. 

He no longer haunted her.

Perhaps the remnants of his soul have served their purpose and have gotten what they wanted.

(Y/n) smiled as she blankly stared at the spot Alfred knelt at. She'd eventually approach her door to try and get her day started. To make herself think about something else. To start the process of healing. Before she could leave she'd hear a whisper in her ear.

"I loved you too, (Y/n)."

#i forgor to post this #sorry yall #hws america x reader #hws x reader #hetalia x reader #hetalia #alfred f jones x reader #aph america x reader #x reader #fem reader #reader insert

[hetaliatrashlife]

Fear of the Unknown - (Aph!America x Reader)

Hey guys, a longfic here I decided to fix up from my drafts! - 3,500 Words (Will hopefully be a second part if wanted!)

WARNING - Foul Languages and depictions of Kidnap, proceed with caution! 

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Awaking to the feeling of warmth, knowing that where I laid my head the night before definitely wasn't a warm and comforting place, sitting up quickly on edge as you were on a serious under cover mission and couldn't risk dawdling around. Throwing the covers off of you feeling around what you assumed to be the motels bedside table for your glasses, putting them on quickly, you felt the arms of someone wrap around you and snuggle into your back. You stiffened up, throwing the assailant out of bed and onto the floor, pinning his arm behind his back and shouting, "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?" with a grunt, he turned to face you, vision still blurry due to the dim light, "(Y/N)...it's me? " Your eyes widened, how was your target here in bed with you? A literal hitman you'd been chasing most of your career, was just underneath you, you picked him up and pinned him to the wall, his back hitting with a loud thud as he winced, his face covered in concern and confusion, "Don't play dumb Jones, why in the world are you in my room huh? You're coming with me! " He grabbed your wrists before you could even try to begin placing the cuffs on him, "I don't know what's wrong with you, but I am a cop-", She looked at him and began laughing, "Is this another ruse? Another ploy huh? Impersonating a cop, what sick games are you up to now? " You ripped yourself from his grasp, disgusted by his touch. Alfred could do nothing but analyse the woman before him, she looked exactly like his partner (Y/N), but there was something about her...the usual vibrance in her eyes diminished to nothing but anger and hatred, Alfred knew it was directly pointed at him, his heart ached a little even amidst the confusion he disliked the thought of you hating him, "(Y/N)...I think you need to sit-", "STOP TALKING TO ME LIKE THAT! You don't get to be sweet with me you prick." Her words oozed hatred, with each glare Alfred felt his heart pang, "Please, can I explain something to you! " Her gaze didn't soften, but her grip on him sure did, especially when she began analysing the room, it definitely wasn't the cheap run down motel she had been staying in the night previously, this was more homely and sweet, "Did you genuinely kidnap me Jones? Trying to live out some fantasy? " She crossed her arms, still standing infront of him still cornering him into the wall, Alfred had never seen this sort of look from his partner, let alone the woman he loved and he knew that she was serious, the thoughts of amnesia quickly dissapated out of his mind when he saw your clothes, a shaggy black hoody, black ripped tank top stained to high hell, black skin tight jeans and scuffed combat boots laced up to the knee. You looked exhausted, almost worn down but there was still that fire in you, a fire he knew all too well. Alfred lifted his hands up slowly, moving to turn the light on and as he did you blinked a few times, to accustom yourself to the brightness, "Look (Y/N)...I think you're (Y/N) anyway, I'm Alfred Jones yes, but I work for the NYPD and I'm far from a wanted man..." You scoffed at him, "I hate liars." You grabbed your gun and pointed it straight at him, he waved his hands infront of him as he rushed into the draw from the cabinet you'd just picked your glasses up off, he grabbed a badge and slowly handed it to you, "Please just look, it's all legit you can even call my superior..." You raised an eyebrow as you snatched the ID badge, still holding the gun with one hand pointed at him, "Do you mind putting that do-", "No. Until I can prove you're some sort of replica and not the actual Jones I'm looking for you'll deal with it, okay? " Her words weren't questioning in any sense, they were orders...commands and the emotion behind them made Alfred shut up real quick. As you inspected the ID, he drank you in, your nails were chipped...brittle almost, your hair unkempt in a messy poytail, Alfred wondered how he'd allowed her to just over power him like this but then again...she was YOU...she even answered to your name, he couldn't bring himself to harm you even if it wasn't the you he remembered.

Peering down at the ID, your eyes widening in shock as he must've been telling the truth, all the details were there...but you couldn't trust him, thinking it could be a fake ID badge you knew you had one last safety check, making your way over to the side table next to Alfred once more and picking up the phone, dialling with one hand the number to his super intendant, "Hello, is this Mr Kirkland? " A british tone made it's way through the speaker, "Hello, yes it is. What can I help you with? " Your eyes shot wide, this was your...boss? But he sounded sweet, almost soothing, not like the rough englishman you grew up with, "E-Ermm...", "(Y/N) is that you? What's bloody happened? " Thinking exactly the same you shook your head, eyes darting straight at Alfred, "I'm not (Y/N), I bumped into your colleague and I just wanted to make sure that a Mr Alfred Jones is employed with you? " Her heart raced, head spinning almost as she came to the realisation that this...this wasn't her reality, it couldn't be. Things were too bright, too nice it seemed. "Well yes, of course he is why would you ask? " It felt like your world had been shattered, you were in some dream it seemed, the same man who had brutally killed people all over the USA was employed by the NYPD? Your hardened gaze fell slightly, the fear apparant as you placed the phone on the reciever, "I-I...I don't know what to think..." Your world had shattered in seconds, pinching yourself to make sure this was real and not some deluded nightmare your brain had convuluted from forgotten past memories. You walked up to the man still stood by the wall, your hand reached up to his face and gently rubbed his cheek, he seemed to invite the warmth of your touch but before he could reminisce you pulled back, "I...I don't know what sort of fucked up place I'm in, but me and you we're enemies...I've been hunting you down since I was eighteen, it's been eight years of constant under cover work and still never being able to stop you...you killed so many people...the piece of you I had from childhood died when I took my first case..." Alfreds eyes widened in horror, disgust even and he couldn't fathom ever being a cold hearted killer, let alone one that does it purely for money. You threw yourself down on the bed, defeated and more than a little torn. Alfred sat next to you, making you jump slightly he waved his hands infront of him once more, "Hey, I know the Alfred you deal with is like that but I seem to be the complete opposite...I understand you might be a little scared of me, but I want to help you find where you belong and I'd also like to find my (Y/N)-" He heard you laugh sorrowfully, "Your (Y/N) huh?...It's hard to imagine myself ever getting with you, no offence..." He smiled slightly, "None taken dude, now let's get changed and sort some kind of game plan out yeah? " You still couldn't believe this was Alfred, I mean you could because it reminded you of the piece of Alfred you hid deep down and kept under lock and key, the sweet caring boy he was before whatever happened snapped him into the evil monster he was now. But looking this Alfred up and down made your chest heave, "This is what I could of had huh? " You whispered to yourself, your eyeline boring into the carpet beneath you with so much intense sadness Alfred couldn't contain his emotions as he wrapped you in a hug, his hands gripping you so tightly as if he was scared you’d slip through them, your body once more stiffened up against his touch as it was so alien to you, "S-Sorry, it's just you look almost identical to my (Y/N) and I would always comfort her...if you don't like it, I can get off? " You felt tears prick at your eyes, they fell in heaps landing on clenched hands beneath you, succumbing to the comforting warmth of his touch, almost envious that another version of you got to enjoy each and every moment with him. Your eyes soon made their way to Alfred, noticing the man was..."E-Ermm...I am so sorry, but would you mind getting some clothes on?..." Your face heated up within seconds, the mans chiselled body so close to you, with each scar telling a story that you could only begin to imagine. "O-Oh I'm so sorry, of course!" He quickly parted from you, his touch lingering on your skin making it yearn for more. Seeing Alfred be this kind to you sent you into a whirlwhind, after spending most of your career chasing after the same man stood before you...but this wasn't him was it, it was the better version...the version you desperately begged for all these years, you couldn't help but satiate this fantasy for just a little while longer. You watched as he grabbed a couple of things from a dresser then throwing them at you, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at him, "You look like you need a change of clothes and i'm more than sure you'll both be the same size..." You nodded quietly, unable to meet his gaze whilst he was still practically naked, "Thank you...", "You can call me something like a nickname if it's more comfortable for you? How about Alfie?" Eyes widening at the nickname, "I-I can't...Jones seems just fine for now..." He scratched the back of his neck, guessing that you had nicknamed your Alfred that too before he went all psycho killer, "Well I'll leave you to get dressed, meet me downstairs in the kitchen and I'll cook us up some breakfast." You nodded again, thoughts still whirring around in your head, 'What's happening?' 'When will I wake up?' You heard the door softly close and lock into place, as soon as it did you finally allowed yourself to breathe a deep sigh, painful almost gasping for air. You couldn't fathom that this is what your life could've been, you peered around the beautifully decorated room stroking your hands across the plush bedding beneath you, knowing that you hadn't felt linen this smooth in a long time. Your eyes stopped on a framed picture on the bedside table, shakily moving your hand towards it knowing just what would be peering back at you...there it was, you and Alfred on a date in a different country, holding eachother close and smiling like the world didn't matter. You watched as drops hit the glass, wiping them away as you stroked Alfred's face, you took a double take at the smiling woman looking back at you, this (Y/N) had shorter well kept hair, she wore brighter clothes and her nails looked so perfectly primed. You stared at yourself in the reflection, not understanding how you drew such a short straw, "She got it all huh? " You chuckled grimly to yourself, placing the picture back on the bedside once more, standing up to assess the clothing you'd been given, a white off the shoulder top with a pair of blue high waisted jeans, "Damn, she really is different..." You hurriedly got dressed, grabbing a pair of socks and your boots as you made your way into the hallway.

Eyes immediately drawn to the hundreds of photo's littered around the place, your heart ached at the smiling face looking back at you...no she was looking down on you, 'You never deserved this...' Your thoughts seeping in again, you shook your head slightly and gave the bridge of your nose a pinch, "I look...so happy..." Your words thickened the air, the envy almost sickening to you...what you would do for this sort of life, one that seemed ever so perfect and happy. Making your way down the smooth carpeted stairs, you turned a corner to be met with another hallway, a certain picture stood out amongst the rest making your stomach churn and bile shoot into your throat, "That's...-", "Oh yeah, that's when we-...I mean me and my (Y/N) went on a camping trip in highschool, she always kept that picture even though I hated it...but now I can't help but look back and see our beginning you know?..." He quickly stopped himself as he saw your body language, you looked defeated and broken, all's the blonde wanted to do was wrap you up in a blanket and protect you, you may not of been his realities (Y/N) but you were still a (Y/N) and he couldn't understand what went so horribly wrong with himself that he left you like this, a shell of a woman who used to be so vibrant so hopeful, your eyes looked bleakly as you grabbed a wallet out of your pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper to reveal the same photo Alfred described to you, "You mean this one?...Yeah I do treasure it, more than he'll ever know..." The picture was stained and slightly torn at the edges, showing just how much use you got out of it, "I...I'm so sorry..." He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, he expected you to flinch away or push him off but you just kind of accepted the gesture, it had been a long while since you'd felt the touch of someone, the feeling of human contact was so rare to you especially with the whole undercover thing, you couldn't make friends and whatever family you did have thought you were probably dead. Your hand reached up slowly and cupped his, squeezing it almost like a lifeline, just wanting to know someone cared about you. "She's very lucky to have you...." Your smile didn't portray happiness, bitter jealousy if anything but the only thing Alfred saw was pain, you turned yourself towards the kitchen doorway as not to see the cherished memory you had once lived through. Alfred's hand pulled back slowly as if he wanted you to know he cared, that he was there for you. "I was lucky...I am lucky...you saved me-" He heard you chuckle dryly, making your way to the pristine modern kitchen you placed yourself at the breakfast bar, "If only you knew what happened in my reality huh? You wouldn't think so highly of me..."

Other Reality (Y/N):

You awoke, the stench of vomit and sweat instantly filling your nostrils like a pungent wake up call, "W-Where am I? " You muttered out, grabbing your glasses and swiftly placing them on your nose, you searched your surroundings. "A Motel? Why an earth would I be here? I must've been kidnapped..." You used your detective skills to assess the room, make sure if it was a kidnapper he wasn't still in the room or on the premises, then the fear set in, "Alfred...he wouldn't of ever let this happen so what if they've got him?!" You couldn't calm your beating heart, everything felt dark and gloomy especially without his bright smile to awaken you, his laughter was always your favourite melody. "No, he's fine. I have to be hopeful, I know he's got this and that whatever's going on he'll save me! " Making your way to the bedside cabinet you spotted some things, a mobile phone and keys, you thought this was your bingo until you saw the password protection, "Shit, they don't even have a background..." Then a text flashed on the screen from a private number, "You're getting colder little mouse, I'm waiting." The tone of the text was sinister, repulsive even. It was like they were hunting you down like prey, a wild animal and this was their hunting ground. You made sure to search the room for supplies, knowing that anything could be left in this godforsaken hell hole. Finding a duffel bag, you ripped it open and saw, "Ammo?...Guns?...Freaks got a whole travel bag, but...if they're leaving it for me are they expecting me to play? I-" You sat yourself on the side of the bed, backtracking everything that happened the night before, falling asleep in Alfred's arms to the feeling of him playing with your hair was the last you remember and then this...you couldn't wrap your head around it, but you knew you had to get out and find your way back to him. Another buzzing sound came from the locked phone, the text reading, "428 Hampton Boulevard. 30MINS." Having no choice but to grab the duffel bag and meet this maniac at his desired location, you knew that with them you'd more than likely find your answer's to the other questions that have been plaguing you. Your eyes fell onto a pile of clothes, grabbing them without hesitation you saw, "Women's?...They're my sizing, they must really have it out for me...to know this-" You shivered thinking of all the times you'd haphazardly left your clothing in places it could be easily picked up and from the looks of it this person knew a lot about you. Throwing the clothes on as quickly as you could you grabbed the duffel bag, throwing it over your shoulder seamlessly, grabbing the keys on the side knowing that if you got pulled over you could always call in to your boss, "I'm sure Artie won't mind covering for me if theres a psycho after me..." Making sure to take the burner phone with you, in case things got too much for you and you had to call the emergency number, Alfred would be so proud of you for facing such a feat head on but you also know he'd be angry for endangering yourself if you have him, you thought to call him but the motel didn't have a phone and the mobile you had wouldn't make calls unless unlocked. You speed walk past the receptionist who gave you a weird look, 'Yeah I'm sure seeing a kidnap victim would make my head turn too love...'

You grabbed the car keys in your hand placing the key between your fingers just in case this creep decided he would rather meet you here, you surveyed the area and didn't spot anything too out of the ordinary. You examined the keys to try and identify what car they'd be used for, they looked eerily similiar and seemed to belong to a car you owned back when you were a teenager so you recognised the car almost immediately..."Red Honda...95 plate..." Eyes widening in shock, this couldn't be right? It looked exactly like your old car down to the busted tail from where you got rear ended by Alfred after he'd just learnt to drive, shaking the thoughts out of your head you pressed onwards not being someone to stray away from a fight especially when it meant you getting closer to being home again, safe in Alfred's arms. Starting the car up was easy, remembering how to drive manual was not though, the brain fog was over bearing from being in fight mode and you honestly couldn't think straight but for some reason as soon as you'd clicked in that belt and revved the car to life, it's like you were teleported to being that sweet naive eighteen year old again, not a care in the world. Staring at the clock you knew you had fifteen minutes left to get to your destination, but fortunately you were perfect with directions and from patrolling that area in downtown new york so often you knew exactly where you were headed. Not bothering to check the car out, knowing that being superstitious would get you nowhere but trouble you headed for the place. The tires screeched beneath you, the car coming to a halting standstill the phone barely alive but just enough in case you needed to dial in an emergency.

Scanning the area for this unknown assailant you couldn't see a thing, it may have only been 7am but it was downtown on a Sunday no one was going to be up and around just yet, atleast not the people you'd want to bump into anyways. You felt something- no someone staring holes into you, your eyes widened spotting a hooded figure in the alleyway, grabbing a gun cautiously you made your way towards the spot, "Hello?..." Quietly you made your way towards the person, gun pressed firmly behind your back finger on the trigger waiting for the perfect moment. This was presumeably a man by the build and height, you heard a chuckle but the feeling of fear was now overcome with that of confusion, you began shaking as you'd only ever heard one person with that specific laugh, "Alfred?..." Before you had time to react or to question the person before you, you felt a rag slam into your face the sweet stench of chlorophorm filling your every sense, your gun shooting as you pulled the trigger almost on instinct, pain searing up your leg knowing full well you'd just shot yourself, your eyes began to glaze over in realisation, this was Alfred...but it couldn't be? Struggling with the man as he kicked your newly bleeding leg, dropping the gun shaking you used the last of your strength to throw your hands up and around his face, knocking his hood down to show his face...you froze with fright shaking uncontrollably now, this was Alfred...but he didn't look the same? He was glaring daggers at you, grinning from ear to ear, a large scar adorning his once fresh face, the beautiful cerulean eyes that gave you peace of mind now dim with zero emotion, he pulled you against him tightly almost suffocating you, "I've got you my little mouse..." He almost purred into your ear, your eyes welling up with tears as darkness overcame you. Awaking what felt like moments later, your eyes shot open darting across the scenery before you, your arms writhing beneath the sturdy ropes that pinned you into what seemed to be a chair of some sorts, your eyes landed on the man sat infront of you still grinning like a cheshire cat, "Naughty girl, I didn't think you'd come running...you never usually do but then again you don't look how you usually do..." He stood up, distain spread across his face as he ripped your mouth piece off with little to any thought, "Who...who the fuck are you?!" He leaned in close, the smell of booze permeating his breath as he spoke, "Why...I could ask the same of you? "

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Thank you for getting this far, I posted this as it’s the first thing I’ve written in a long time that I’m actually proud to post, I’ll be sure to add part 2 as it’s already written if people want it! 

I hope you have a wonderful Evening // Morning! ;3;

#aph! x reader #aph x reader #x reader insert #country x reader #aph!america x reader #alfred f jones x reader #angst fic #long fic #anime x reader #fanfiction #anime #manga #hetalia #aph hetalia #hetalia world stars #hetalia world twinkle #hetalia axis powers

[504py]

ahh requests open !!! can i request yan!america headcanons or a short drabble ? your choice 🌼 thank you~

thank you for requesting anon!!! and so sorry for this being late omg this was supposed to come out earlier but i got sidetracked cuz i got sucked into stardew valley LMFAO 😭😭😭. but anyways, here it is!

Yandere America Relationship Headcanons

Gender neutral, manipulation, breaking and entering, stalking, long post ahead!

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How the relationship started...

A total cliché, but Alfred would go for a damsel in distress. He met you on the stairs passing each other, you tripped, and he caught you in his arms in the nick of time. You quickly apologize and thank him with an embarrassed smile, and you continue on your way. Alfred tries to, but he can't seem to stop thinking about that flustered expression on your face, the sound of your voice, and the way you felt under your clothes...

He tries to shake the feeling off, but he just had to bump into you again.

Alfred's second encounter with you was when you two were at the counter at the convenience store, and you were a dollar short. Him, being the hero he is, leans over from behind you and puts a dollar down on the counter.

You look at him, recognizing him as the dude who prevented you from eating shit at that staircase. You blush at the embarrassing memory.

"Don't worry about it." Alfred smiles boyishly, noticing that same flustered expression. He relishes in the feeling of your warmth against his chest when he leans forward, and immediately misses it when he pulls away.

"Th.. Thanks."

You take your things and go, and Alfred is up next to pay for his things. His eyes linger on you as you exit.

Alfred can't wait for the next time you two have a chance encounter, so he catches up to you.

"Hey, dude!" He calls out, approaching you from behind. His heart races a little.

"Oh-" You are a little startled, he feels kinda bad. "What's up?"

"Cause of that dollar I gave you, I had to give up my potato chips!" Alfred cries.

He's lying. He's hoping to god they don't make a crinkle sound under his jacket.

"Oh, shoot, I'm sorry. Can.. Uh, can I pay you back some other day? I don't have any cash on me at the moment."

Alfred smiles. "I can give you my number, and we'll make out the details then?"

"Y-Yeah, of course."

His smile grows wider.

Expectations...

Because Alfred is just oh-so sociable and has such a friendly, extroverted disposition, it isn't very hard for him at all to quickly become one of your closest friends, and, one day, when you two were stuck in the rain after a late night fast-food dash gone wrong, he confesses his feelings for you. You accept, and he kisses you so hard your lips bled a bit from the impact. Of course, he apologized like crazy. You two look back at it now and laugh.

Alfred does his best to appear like a normal boyfriend. He is one who cares a lot about keeping up appearances, so he'd hate it if his weird tendencies slipped through and made itself apparent to you.

Yet another cliché, Alfred is one who yearns for the perfect American dream sort of image. Alfred really likes clichés, they're easy to predict and he can control them. He likes kissing in the rain, he likes calling you cheesy nicknames, and he wants to get married and have a kid and a pet dog with you. And he expects you to completely adhere to that fantasy of his.

Luckily for you, he won't get too violent if you're not the best at keeping up that appearance, since he has other methods of keeping you in line.

Punishments...

Since Alfred highly values appearing like a run-of-the-mill happy couple, he finds it essential that you don't suspect him at all or see him in any negative light.

So he takes to some really dirty manipulation tactics. He'd start with scolding you lightly and emphasizing every time you slip up or make a clumsy mistake.

"Oh-! Woah, babe, you almost tripped again. Thank God I caught you.. You really can't go anywhere without me."

"Did you mix up the laundry again? Damn, that's the third time this month."

He mixed up your laundry on purpose.

"Shoot! The food's burning... Ah, don't worry! I'll just order some takeout, it's alright, honey."

He totally left the burner on high while you went to the bathroom for a second.

Alfred just wants to plant a seed in your head that you're rather helpless, and need his assistance for many, if not all things. And assuming this works, you'll start clinging to him much more than you usually do.

He wants more, though. He wants you to fear the outside world so much that you have no choice but to stay in his house forever and see him as the one thing that could protect you.

He would very likely stage a break-in to get you to that point. During a moment where you're staying in your own home instead of his, he'll don a ski mask and clothing that would make him unrecognizable to you, and late at night, when you're getting comfortable, he breaks in.

Alfred doesn't mind destruction, and that's including towards other people. Like Matthew, violence would be a last resort to him, however, Alfred is much more unforgiving.

..He won't be pretty about breaking into your home. Glass will be everywhere, he'll set off alarms, and he won't be shy about getting caught on your home cameras.

Although destruction isn't his main intent, he just wants you to know someone was here. He'll move your furniture around, knock frames off of the walls, and take a few valuables, like jewelry. Nothing you should miss too much.

Then he sees you.

He never really intended for you to see him, but, now he was facing you, and to your eyes, you were face to face with a stranger who just broke into your home.

Alfred sees the panic and fear boil over in your eyes, and right before you run or scream or are able to do anything— He rushes forward and grabs you. His heart is racing

Instead of saying anything, in fear you recognize his voice, he raises a gloved finger to his lips, telling you to stay quiet.

You nod, and you're crying.

(Alfred hates to admit a part of him finds this exhilarating, but the way you're crying because of him makes him feel so horrible).

He nods his masked face at you, and goes to your bedroom to collect a few more valuables (your underwear).

As he's leaving your home, he turns his head to see you on your phone, and he panics, thinking you've dialed 911. He hurries up and runs off to a secluded area so he could take off the outer layer of clothes he was wearing.

As he takes off his jacket, the phone in his pocket rings.

And it's you.

He's frozen for a second, wondering why you were calling him. Did you know it was him? What did he do that set you off?

He picks up.

"Babe?" He cringes at how his voice shakes. "What's up?"

Then you're crying his name like it was a prayer, telling him what just happened and begging for him to come over and pick you up.

And his heart swells. You came to him first for protection? You trusted him the most with your safety?

He grins, and he can't help the way his smile could be heard in his voice when he tells you he'll be there as quickly as he can. He's so happy he's trembling. Luckily, you're still too shaken up to notice his strangely cheery tone of voice.

Then now you're clinging to him, much more than ever before, trusting him with your life, and the only thing you fear is being without him. Just like he wanted.

Rewards...

Alfred REALLY likes physical affection. He does show his love in many ways, but he's so physical that it may come off as creepy. He likes licking your face, biting lightly on your shoulder, and sniffing whatever he can, even if it's some embarrassing area... He's like a dog, really. He also likes taking you out on cheesy dates, like going to Disneyland or going to a haunted house, and taking lots of pictures to flaunt the two of you's oh-so-perfect relationship.

He has this habit of resting his hand around your neck and sorta rubbing it. I'm not sure if he'd be into asphyxiation, but he finds the action rather intimate. The throat is a vulnerable spot, and him having it in his hand so casually makes him feel good. He also has this other habit where he likes to sorta tickle your palm with his fingertips. When he hears your laugh when he does this, he gets an uncharacteristically demure expression on his face, and looks at you with hearts in his eyes.

Silence is his love language, I think.

He spends a lot of time being loud and untamed, and maybe it's a defense mechanism, who knows? So these little moments where he allows himself to be quiet, to be quiet around you, are his favorite ones.

He wakes up really early, at least earlier than you do. Maybe contrary to popular belief, I feel like Alfred is somewhat of a workaholic, so he naturally tries to get a head-start on the day.

He used to hate waking up so early, but with you, it's now his favorite part of the day. The only thing he hates is getting up to leave you for work. But he thinks it's all worth it, because it's all for you.

It's so quiet. And you're here. And no one else is around. It's just the two of you.

It feels like he's not real, during these early mornings. He knows you are, though. You're everything that's real to him. He reminds himself that this isn't a dream by touching and admiring your face while you slept. He can feel your soft breathing on his skin.

Alfred rests his forehead against yours, and he doesn't say this out loud, since he doesn't wanna wake you up, but it's also because.. He feels like you just get him. He believes you two are soulmates, and that you'll just feel whatever he's thinking, even while asleep.

"I love you." He says, in silence.

┊͙✧˖*°࿐

whew!! so sorry this got out so late, but here's the final request i'm doing for the 200 followers celebration! funnily, as i'm posting this, i've just hit 300 followers, so triple all my thank yous!! you guys are great! unfortunately, the requests got me feeling a bit burned out, so i'll probably do something different for this milestone.. i'm thinking i'll either do a "meet the artist", or do a whiteboardfox with you guys? i also have a whole bunch of ocs which were initially meant to be the main focus of my account, but not sure if that y'all would find that very interesting. please lmk what you think! thank you all again!!

#aph america #hws america #yandere america #hetalia america #yandere hetalia #yandere america x reader #yandere hetalia x reader #yandere x reader #alfred f jones #asks #🛁

[merbear25]

cw nsfw

haiiii i forgot if i asked this but maybe e ame with breeding kink :3

an d england too ofc ofc

Hey, hey! I can't deny that I'm a sucker for a breeding kink, so I was happy to write this for you. I went with headcanons, so I hope you like it 💜💜

America and England with a breeding kink

CW: NSFW!! MDNI!! fem!reader, headcanons, mentions of impregnating reader, vaginal creampies

America

He didn't realize he had this kink before meeting you, but when he sees how good you are around children, something in him just cllicks.

He's a bit embarrassed about talking to you about it mostly due to the fact he has no idea how to bring it up.

Not only did you never discuss wanting to have kids, but you were also extremely careful when having sex: using condoms and birth control were a must. However, the desire to fill you completely with his cum was gnawing at him.

When he asks you about exploring this option, he's fairly surprised that you're willing to indulge him in his fantasies. He's not complaining, though!

Before trying it, you two had a discussion about what you'd do if you got pregnant. You pushed this discussion more than he did.

During your first time having sex without a condom, you're both nervous about the 'what if' situation.

That being said, the chemistry between the two of you overpowered your doubts. Soon you're both lost in the midst of passion and the euphoria.

When he releases in you, shivers are sent down your spine, leaving goosebumps in the wake of your lovemaking.

After the first time, it was hard to go back to using condoms. The more you let him creampie you, the less you wanted to keep to your birth control.

Knowing you are off the pill excites him, and leaves him wanting to see you carry his child.

The thought of his cum dripping out of you, then leading to your swollen belly only makes him want to keep himself between your legs until he makes it a reality.

England

He comes off as a very prim and proper man and to be fair, he is...to an extent.

He may not flaunt it, but he's got a fair amount of experience under his belt. He's had a lot of time to realize his sexual interests and kinks, and he's more than happy to help you explore yours.

He's raised a few countries, so he's not exactly jumping at the opportunity to get back to parenting.

That being said, when you come to him with that sweet face and doe eyes, he finds it hard not to listen to you wanting to explore your kink to have him breed you.

Now, the thought of him cumming in you so recklessly does send thrills throughout his body, but he's a bit apprehensive. He wants to talk about the possibility of you getting pregnant and if the both of you are ready for it.

After discussing the options, he's happy to satisfy your desires.

Everything leading up to the main event was perfect, leaving you craving for more.

While having your first time throwing caution to the wind, you couldn't get enough of it. The energy you're bringing gives him a massive confidence boost.

You've unleashed a primal urge within him, and he's fully committed to cumming in you as deep as he can.

Watching everything he pulsated into you drip out is one of the most satisfying things for him. Knowing how much you love the feel of it makes it even better.

If you decide that you want children, he's now happy to take that next step with you. He comes across as very gentlemanly when you bring it up.

But, when you're in the bedroom, his true feelings towards it come out. He's clearly on a mission to impregnate you, chasing a fantasy of his he'd kept burried.

#x reader #hetalia #aph headcanons #aph #aph hetalia #aph america #aph england #hetalia headcanons #hetalia world series #hetalia axis powers #hetalia world stars #hws hetalia #axis powers hetalia #hetalia x reader #hetalia x you #arthur kirkland #alfred f jones #america x reader #england x reader #hetalia america #england hetalia #america hetalia #hetalia imagines #hetalia smut

[worldheadcanons]

Can you do Axis x reader x Allies? They are all fighting for reader's love.

☆ axis vs allies: fighting for your love!

starring. . . gender neutral reader and north italy, germany, japan, america, + china.

author notes; this was super fun, i imagined it to be a sort of otome game scenario with multiple routes. like the protagonist/reader goes on dates with everyone until they choose just one person to be with. i couldn’t fit all the main allies in here, sorry anon! lmk if you want a part two for them or any other characters.

feliciano vargas!

— he knows that his colleagues are also interested in you. he’s not particularly discouraged though because, really, who wouldn’t be? you were attractive, intelligent, thoughtful— the whole package. vargas knows he has his own unique charms, traits that the allies and even the another axis don’t have. feliciano is cute and he knows how to use that to his advantage. alfred is cute too, but in a different way. he doubts the boisterous american could sweep you off your feet like he could.

— in terms of competition he views francis and ludwig as his biggest enemies. feliciano is smart enough to not let anyone ruin his personal relationships, so he doesn’t hold any real ill will towards the two. in fact, it’s because he likes them so much, especially ludwig, that he even considers them to be rivals in the first place. francis is very obviously romantic. he was the one who taught vargas the ropes, after all. however his romance was rather.. mature.. meanwhile, the italian preferred to keep his romance light and playful. ludwig was cute in a stoic way. he couldn’t flirt to save his life, but that was part of his appeal. he would give you a small smile as he tried his best to be romantic and your heart couldn’t help but melt.. yea, those two would be trouble.

— he likes to keep dates vague at first, leaving you unsure of whether or not things are platonic or romantic. unlike francis or arthur he doesn’t come on strong. the first dates are still pretty high class though. dinners at expensive restaurants, trips to private beaches, live music shows— feliciano’s willing to spend every dime on you and he’s not afraid to show it. all the while he’s joking and laughing with you, looking you lovingly in the eyes with the cutest boyish smile you’ve ever seen. he’ll whine and complain sometimes, pouting anytime you tease him. he’s pretty childish but he knows when to pull back so that it’s not annoying. 

— when things get really romantic, you’ll know. he’ll take you to more public places. vargas has many family businesses that he’ll frequent with you. it’s his way of saying you’re closer than you were before. vargas will initiate a lot more pda too, holding your hand more often than not and reveling in the feeling of you leaning on his shoulder. he’s not opposed to cheek kisses either. occasionally he’ll ‘miss’ your cheek and nail a kiss close to your lips, hinting at what he could make happen in the future. what he hoped would happen in the future. 

— eventually things will escalate to a point where he’ll personally ask you if you want to be with him or not. not because feliciano views it as a waste of time if you don’t want to continue on, but because he truly wants to be with you. he can’t stand not knowing anymore and he especially can’t stand not having you all to himself. vargas will be respective of your answer no matter what.. but.. he has a feeling you’ll say yes. 

ludwig beilschmidt!

— he’s not particularly confident of himself in this area. romance was not ludwig’s strong suit. he knows that other countries are interested in you as well, which doesn’t help him feel any better. even feliciano was after you! despite it all, his older brother had encouraged him to try to win you over. so here he was. he would try his best. the german didn’t know it, but he had his own charms. he was stoic and sort of inexperienced but still a polite man. many ladies found this to be charming. in a way, his lack of romantic prowess was his power. 

— his biggest competitors, in his mind, are feliciano and alfred. both for reasons he considers obvious. they’re both rather ‘naturally cute’ men. they had this boyish charm while still being mature. alfred was really funny which only helped his case. feliciano was great at romancing others and while ludwig doesn't know much about alfred’s love life, he figured that it was likely the american was the same way. gah.. just thinking about it makes him frown. he’s been at disadvantages before though, so he’s able to convince himself that things will be fine no matter the outcome. his opinion on the two of them doesn’t change because of the situation. beilschmidt understands that no one can help the way they feel. it’s no one man’s fault that they’re all pursuing the same person. he just wishes he didn’t have to go against vargas, one of his closest friends.

— his first dates are.. regular. but not in a bad way. ludwig spends his days beforehand researching and reading up on things like date etiquette, best cafes to take someone out to, good meals to order, conversation tactics, and more. he doesn’t mind putting in the extra work to catch up with the people he’s up against. he’ll try his best to be romantic the whole time by holding doors and complimenting you whenever the opportunity presents itself. he asks a few questions about you, wanting to get to know you for who you really are. your other suitors may take you out to expensive places but they probably weren’t actively trying to learn about you— at least that’s what the german was betting on. 

— dates will slowly but surely become more tuned to your interests and personality. you like to paint? he’ll invite you out to a nice art bar where you two can create something together. you like to read? he’ll take you to a library-cafe. beilschmidt feels that these dates are the most personal. there’s more pda as he really gets comfortable. it’s mostly limited to hand holding. every so often at the end of dates he’ll ask for a kiss. if you oblige and give him one, you’ll get to see a small smile on his face as he admires you lovingly. he may even bite his lip, clearly whipped for you.

— of course, there’ll come a time where he decides to finally ask about your intentions. he asks a little bit later, not wanting to hold you down or force a decision onto you. with the guidance of his older brother, he’ll find the time to sit you down and ask if you want to date him… like, seriously date him. just him. no matter your answer, he’ll still want to be friends with you. he’s gotten to know you so well, he couldn’t just turn away from you. 

kiku honda!

— he’s whipped for you, though it took him a bit longer than everyone else to realize it. kiku mostly labeled what he was feeling as feelings of admiration. once he notices the the pain in chest as he sees francis trying to serenade you, he realizes that he’s in love. deeply in love. it’s a bit awkward when he comes to you later than the other axis and politely asks if he can take you out sometime. despite the awkwardness, you say yes, with a smile. smiles are good. he knows a thing or two about going out with people so he’s not completely stressed about that. anything he doesn’t know he just researches beforehand, similarly to ludwig.

— his biggest competitor for your love, in his opinion, is feliciano. he’s cute, he’s funny— if honda was in your position, he would have folded for the other immediately. he’s a little worried about everyone really because he’s ‘late to the game’, but overall vargas is his biggest threat. things will be okay though, kiku assures himself. he knows he’s cute in his own way. many of his colleagues have commented on the fact that his relaxed expression was a cute one. it was rare for them to see him relaxed as he mostly thought of work related things when he was in their company. for you, however, it wouldn’t be rare to see. honda would make sure of that. 

— the first dates, similarly to yao’s, are formal. they’re not uptight though, as he wants to seem cute to appeal to you as a boyfriend. there’s gift giving here and there, but he mostly focuses on doing things for you. just when you’re too lazy to cook for the night, kiku’s there to pick you up and take you to a luxurious restaurant. anytime you mention something that needs fixing, he’s on it. if he can’t fix it himself, he pays someone to do it in his stead. he insists that it’s normal and that you owe him nothing in return. he just wants to see you prosper, is all. pda is kept to a minimum, seeing as though it takes him a while to even work up the nerve to ask if he can kiss you. when he does finally kiss you, it’s immediately made clear that he’s experienced. nothing too passionate, of course. there’s a certain air of confidence and the kiss has just the right amount of chasteness to keep you wanting more. 

— as things go on the two of you only get closer. his dates shift from formal outings to extremely casual dates. sometimes it’s buying manga and books together, sometimes it’s watching your favorite movies at home. honda’s favorite ‘date’ consists of you two sitting quietly together in the same room doing completely different things. kiku finds this to be extremely romantic. you’re both doing different things but still enjoying each other’s presence. he’ll be doing paperwork and you’ll be sitting with a computer and neither of you are talking but both of you are happy. during times like this, he may even lean over and kiss you on the cheek, commenting on how much he enjoys your company. 

— he’s not afraid to ask you straight-out what you want for yourself and your future. honda doesn’t want to keep you from your version of happiness, even if that happiness is with another man. there’s no doubt that he wants what’s best for you. 

alfred f. jones!

— he’s a bit thrown off that other men are also trying to romance you. from the very beginning he decides that you’re the one who wants to go steady with. alfred is thrown off, but not enough to give up. he knows his worth. he’s a funny guy, people like that. he’s cute too, smart when he wants to be. jones would ask arthur for help but.. he’d be better off asking a math teacher for help in a history class. he didn’t think kirkland was any good with romantic endeavors. he’d just have to wing it and do his best. it’d be fine.. probably.

— the american doesn’t think of anyone as competition really, but he does hate the idea of you going out with francis. i mean, come on! he’s quite literally known for being a romantic! hopefully you’d find his flirting corny or off putting instead of endearing. alfred’s not completely inept when it comes to romance but he’s no hot shot. most of the time when a flirt of his fails, people laugh it off because he’s just so cute while trying to be a flirty guy. he’s a loser, but an attractive one. people also enjoy the fact that he’s a bit chubby. he knows this only because of past experiences. hmm.. he supposes that ivan could pose an issue too. he’s always an issue in some way or another. 

— his beginning dates are very fun! he’s more fond of going to carnivals, finding a drive in movie theater, stargazing, eating at diners, and dancing together than any modern date. lunch dates are fine and all but it’s just so boring to jones. it’s not that he needs a bunch of excitement but he wants these dates to be interesting. he hopes that after each date ends, he’s still on your mind. he doubts the others are taking you out to such cool places. he’s flirty on these dates, trying his hardest to impress you. he’ll hold your hand often on these dates, as physical contact is something he enjoys a lot. alfred doesn’t mind hugs or kisses this early either, especially if you’re dancing. if you’re not enjoying each other then why even go out? after each date he personally escorts you home. he also leaves you with a kiss to your hand, a sign that he still has some sense of politeness despite his eagerness. 

— as things continue you’ll start to notice that he’s taking you to more distinctive places. instead of finding a drive in movie theater in the middle of nowhere, the american will take you to a roller rink he comes to often. the people there will know him and they’ll know you when he brings you in. apparently he talks about you to whoever will listen. it’s flattering albeit embarrassing. a lot of the places you’ll go will be places he enjoys and wants to share with you. alfred’s much softer now and a bit goofier, backing away from the flirty persona he attempted to put on for the first few dates. you’ll often find yourself leaning onto his shoulder as you try to recollect yourself after breaking down from laughter. it’s in these moments that he’ll smile at you, soaking in your happy expression. it’s a gorgeous expression, one he’d like to see all the time. 

— one day jones realizes that he needs to be seriously dating you. he wanted to take you to an animal adoption center as a sort of surprise but he noticed that doing that was sort of a couple thing.. like a serious couple thing. alfred really thinks getting you a pet would be the best thing in the world. the two of you would make the best pet parents in his mind. it would make him a true hero. or close to one. so he swings by your place and directly asks you if you want to be his partner. he doesn’t stall once he realizes what he needs to do. jones believes that it’s best to just go for what you want. you only live once, after all. 

yao wang!

— it’s not his first time courting a lady. he’s experienced. he even believes that he could outdo francis somewhat. only somewhat though. yao’s been around for a long time so he knows what people like and don’t like. it’s not that he’s a super romantic but he’s passionate no matter what, which draws you in. he suspects you have a thing for older men, which he doesn’t mind playing into. he’s aged like fine wine and he’s not afraid to flaunt it. 

— there is no rivals or competition in wang’s mind. why think about the other guys when he can just focus his attention on you and him? if he had to choose, he’d say arthur, maybe. maybe. francis was too much of a try hard for your affections. kirkland was a mature man. he was polite. the british man seemed to know how to treat someone right. however, in the end, yao viewed himself as on top of it all. he refused to let himself get anxious over your other suitors. that’s how people lose. by worrying.

— he’s a calm and quiet pursuer, playing the long game. beginner dates are very formal. wang tries with all his might to impress you but he makes sure to do so in a way that seems effortless. like he could do this everyday. as if to say, ‘dating me will result in the best treatment for you everyday until death’. he could never say it outright, so he let his actions speak for him. he’s no sugar daddy and he never claims to be anything of the sort. he’s just giving you a taste of what your life could be like should you choose to spend it with him. yao also gives you lots of gifts, though he tries to keep them small so you’re not overwhelmed. he adores the face you make whenever you open up a present he’s gotten you. you’re always so happy to received them.. so graceful when you accept them.. he can’t help but want to spoil you. and that’s exactly what he’ll do, if you continue on.

— as you get closer, wang starts to feel younger. his few grey hairs seem to be jet black again. the dates become less formal and more casual for the both of you. often he’ll just invite you over to his house. he spends less time trying to impress you and more time just enjoying you and your company. you’ll start to hold hands, hug, and kiss a lot more now. he loves the feeling of your lips on his cheek. these dates are a lot more loose and fun, often ending with you two giggling as he holds you in his arms. yao likes to dance with you in his home, rocking back and forth with a smile on his face. he’s shown you what the two sides of your relationship would be like. the first side, what was seen by the public— expensive dinners, beautiful clothing for the both of you, and  lovely gifts— and now, the second side, what wasn’t seen by the public. kisses to the forehead, cooking for each other, reading together, and laughing over nothing in particular. 

— after a while wang will invite you over one day and pop the question. no, not marriage, though he does think you’d make a perfect partner.. he’ll ask if you want to start officially dating. he doesn’t know for sure if you’ll say yes, even though he’s used his tried-and-true method of dating on you. yao hopes for the best and prepares for the worst. he hopes for your love.. but he’s prepared to live life as just a friend of yours. boyfriend or otherwise, he’d like to be present in your life.

#hetalia #hetalia headcanons #hetalia x reader #hetalia x you #italy x reader #north italy x reader #feliciano x reader #feliciano vargas #germany x reader #ludwig x reader #ludwig beilschmidt #japan x reader #kiku x reader #kiku honda #america x reader #alfred x reader #alfred f jones #alfred jones #china x reader #yao x reader #yao wang #hws north italy #hws germany #hws japan #hws america #hws china #hws #aph

[sweetdreamsfanfic]

What happened to the hetalia fandom?

Either way, would anyone be interested in more of the og fanfics? Aka the “Hetalia bf scenarios” and a 1p/2p series

Genuinely getting back into it but there’s like no fresh content 😭😭

#hetalia #2p hetalia #reader insert #2ptalia #boyfriend scenarios #headcannons #where yall at #x reader #2p america #2p italy #ludwig beilschmidt #alfred f jones #arthur kirkland #francis bonnefoy #gilbert beilschmidt #antonio fernandez carriedo #feliciano vargas #romano vargas #kuro honda #dead fandom #2p england #2p germany #luciano vargas #allen f jones #yandere #oneshots #series #nekotalia #fanfic

[lilac-amethyst-skies]

Being in a relationship with America would include...

Playing Just Dance (amongst many other video games!)

Watching horror movies

You comforting Alfred after said horror movies…

Cuddling with warm blankets wrapped around the two of you

You trying on his glasses,

Him attempting to not die of pure adoration when you do

Him cracking jokes

Huge laughing fits

You being introduced to Tony and their crazy antics

You becoming close friends with his brother Matthew.

Alfred totally not ‘reading the room’ and you having to steer him on track before everything goes to chaos

Late night fast food runs

And late night conversations where you find out that Alfred is actually a really good listener

Those movie marathons with blankets, pillow forts and way too much food

You gently removing his glasses after he’s fallen asleep

Alfred sleep-talking and you having fun little conversations that he surely won’t be able to recall in the morning

Him taking you sight-seeing around the places he loves the most

Alfred picking you up out of nowhere and spinning you around

You wearing his sweatshirts

Alfred pulling you so, so close after a long day of meetings

Him being so thankful that he can finally just be himself without having to worry

Alfred pulling you into his lap

Passionate eye contact during sex

Alfred making you feel like the most important person in the world

Him falling more and more in love with you every single day

#hetalia #aph hetalia #hws hetalia #aph america #hws america #alfred f. jones #fanfiction #headcanon #hetalia x reader

[moonami]

Today i present to you guys, Reddish Afternoon's Y/N new design! She is finally a less weird looking MC! Goodbye to the helmet, hello to a mask!

this are some sketches done in my more Realistic proportioned style, what do you guys think of her new appearence?

I would describe this new her as a bit quirky an maybe sassier than the anterior Y/N

#Reddish Afternoon #aph russia #aph america #aph china #ivan braginsky #alfred f jones #alfred freedom jones #wang yao #fake otome #fake hetalia game #otome game #dating sim #china x reader #america x reader #russia x reader #male yandere #yandere hetalia #ヘタリア #moonami #yandere x reader #gun tw

[serenityinstone]

Thanks For Nothing

Yandere America x G.N. Reader

TW: General Yandereness | Implied Kidnapping | Imprisonment | America feeds you food with a fork so idk | Non-consensual kissing (just for a moment) | Thanksgiving? | Reader is tied up

If you can't tell I'm really bad at adding tw's but I always find it helpful to avoid stuff I don't want to read so I tried my best. Go ahead and tell me if there's something I missed.

Also, I know Thanksgiving was two days ago I randomly got the urge to write this last night. I'm like slightly embarrassed by this but I haven't posted anything in over a year so you get this.

Tableware clinked against wood as it was gingerly laid down by an uncommonly careful hand. The room was well lit with candles flickering shadows across the walls, a large chandelier over top. The table was set with an orange and red color scheme with autumn bleeding into every aspect of decoration. Even though only two would be used, eight seats had been set in nothing but false pageantry. The smell of baking turkey wafted in from the kitchen off the ways. Most of the other food had already made its place on the table, surrounding a cornucopia, reflective only in name. Six chairs, three on each side, were all tightly pushed into the table, ready for the use of no one. The spread was massive and one could wonder how only two people, the only residents of the large house, would finish it all.

Humming came from the kitchen, the voice masculine in pitch. The tune was easily recognizable as the Star Spangled Banner, which was more a feat to hum then one would expect. Some of the high notes came out scratchy and the mumbling of the lyrics did nothing to ascertain any kind of satisfying harmony. Both rooms were pleasantly warm, though the kitchen held itself in a higher regard after repeat use of the oven and stove. Light leaked out through the open windows as it bathed the rest of the house.

It was pitch dark outside and a person coming or going could see no more than fifteen feet in front of them. Not that there would be any extra guests anyways. The building was located in the middle of nowhere, a long, winding road the only gleam of civilization. At one point the property had been a farm, but after the changing of owners, its purpose drastically changed.

The deafening silence was interrupted by repeated shifting, a desperate attempt to move. This sound was picked up by the ears of the blonde in the other room. He stuck his head in the doorway, the cowlick on top denying gravity its rightful dues. His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, though you could see none of it. In fact you could see nothing at all. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move. All you could do was listen. The man laughed boisterously like you had just said the funniest thing in the world.

“Don’t worry!” He said, knocking on the wall in a way meant to exude comfort. “It's almost done.”

Any chance you had of escape was quickly ticking away alongside that turkey clock, and yet you could do nothing. Maybe he really was the original boy scout because his knots were flawless. Arms bound tight to a chair, any attempts at kicking did nothing to loosen the ropes tying your legs to the chair’s. Your back was flush with the chair, cord tightly wrapped around your torso. You were, in all sense of the word, stuck.

The silk material used to blind your sight was far softer than the harsh twine of the ropes. The same was used to bind your mouth. Any of the tears you had cried had long since dried, making the cloth more uncomfortable and sticky than before. What did you do to deserve this?

Time to ponder than question was quickly snatched away as the retro cooking clock sprang to life. You snapped your head towards the sound, not having prepared yourself for it. Suddenly the smell of turkey became stronger than ever before and you swore you could feel its heat as the man set it down on the table. He lit what you could only assume were candles before approaching you. You visibly shook as he gently removed the blindfold.

Blinking furiously to adjust to the light, your pupils contracted at the heavy light, causing you to shut them closed and throw your head down away from the obtrusive shine. A large hand came above you to pet the top of your head. He kneeled down on one knee, grasping your arm, which was still bound to the chair’s, and gently massaged the skin. He almost didn’t seem real, the light making him look like an angel. Then he looked back up at you, sky blue eyes piercing your own (e/c) ones. Any thoughts of a divine existence were quickly washed away as you stared deep into the possessive pools that were his oculus. The man smiled at you, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fell. He licked the thumb that had made contact with the salted droplet, never breaking eye contact with you. 

He abruptly stood up, shifting his attention over to the extravagant feast on the table. He quickly piled on his own plate, seemingly stacking it sky high, before coming back over to your side and collected your piece of dishware. Moving around the table, he began to fill your own plate, though not nearly as large as his own. He placed it back down next its proper napkin, an orange maple leaf.

The man began to slice apart his pieces of turkey, clearly satisfied with how it had come out. It didn’t take him long to begin gobbling down his food like a hungry soldier on the battlefield. He talked while chewing once or twice in a way that would have made a proper British noble scoff in disgust. Though he quickly quit after he realized that he was eating like such. A look fell across his face that made you think that he might have been told off for a bad habit like that. From then on he ate properly, carefully using his utensils and always chewing with his mouth closed.

From the moment he had brought the turkey in, you had felt your mouth water. You hadn’t eaten anything all day and the food laying out before you felt torturous. You didn’t make a sound however, trying to conserve all of your energy into not bursting into another round of tears. Your stomach on the other hand, had no such qualms, and loudly made its presence known.

The blonde looked over at you, to your uneaten plate of food, and then back to you. He was about to ask why you hadn’t started eating before he realized the obvious. Gulping down the last of his diet soda, of which he had put into a glass with ice to look slightly nicer, he made his way past the table and back over to you.

All you could do was sit there, cursing your stomach and every decision that led you to this horrible fate. Standing at far over six feet, he easily towered over you, causing the shaking from earlier to come back tenfold. You must have looked like a frightened little lamb to the big bad wolf. He cupped your face in his hands, rough from years of war. By now you had begun hyperventilating, shoulders moving up and down in desperate disharmony. You tried to suck as much air as possible in but the gag in your mouth stopped most of the air flow. He reached his right hand farther up your face and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to pretend you were any place but here. Any images of tropical vacation were vanquished after he softly removed the fabric. It was soaked with hours worth of saliva and he threw it off to the side on the table.

Properly swallowing for the first time in hours, your lips finally closed. You still shook but had noticeably calmed down as he focused on your lips.

“A-Alfred.” You finally whispered. “W-Why? I don’t u-understand.”

Tears still occasionally fell down and you desperately wanted to hide your face from him with your hands, but couldn’t because of your binds. You desperately searched his eyes for some clue, a hint, anything. But there was nothing there but pure, unbridled, adoration. His face melted into a content smile and he dove in to kiss you with no prior warning.

His lips melded against yours and he furiously attacked them until you opened. The man pressed you farther against the chair, using both of his hands to keep your head in place. His tongue swirled around your mouth, traversing every cavity and frantically tried to keep your own in this cursed dance. He finally parted from you, a string of saliva connecting you until it finally snapped.

Even more tears had begun to form, all threatening to fall at the slightest motion or whisper. Alfred brushed his thumb over your soaked eyelash, clearing your vision in that eye for just a moment.

“Does that answer your question?” He placed his head in the crook of your neck, taking in the smell. “I just love you that much.”

Suddenly reminded as to why he had come over to the other side of the table, Alfred quickly pulled out an empty chair and sat next to you. He unwound the napkin and the utensils, placing all of them in the correct positionings like he had been taught to do. He then pulled the plate towards the edge of the table, carefully stabbing a piece of turkey he had cut apart with a fork.

“Say aww!” He urged, but you knew it was more of a command.

You opened your mouth, feeling completely demeaned by the nature of the situation. He couldn’t even let you use your own hands. Your chewing was slow as your mouth still hurt from the gag. Alfred didn’t seem to mind as he just fed you another piece, repeating the cycle a few more times. Finally it seemed like he had finally gotten enough out of you and stopped, only to be repeated with a different food instead. As you were chewing, he spoke adoringly to you.

“I love you (Y/n).” He said as he continued to dote on you. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

#yandere x reader #yandere hetalia #yandere hetalia x reader #hetalia x reader #tw yandere #yandere america #yandere america x reader #alfred f jones #yandere x you #yandere america x you

[darkwaltz-blog]

Hello! Could you write allies with a girlfriend, who is easily aroused and has a lot of sexual desire?

ALLIES X S/O WITH A LOT OF SEXUAL DESIRE.

Warning: +18 content.

Sorry for the slow updates, I've been a bit busy the last few weeks. But I'm finally here again! ^^

Arthur Kirkland [England]

He's too proud to admit it, but he loves the idea that his S/O is always craving his touch, somehow it makes him feel wanted and boosts his ego.

Arthur has quite a few fantasies and hidden desires, but due to how busy he is, he never pays enough attention to them. An S/O with a high libido helps him a lot to be himself sexually. In the depths of the mind of the distinguished English gentleman, there is an evil being who enjoys subjecting his partner to punishment and obedience games.

If his partner tries to provoke him in public, Arthur blushes terribly as he quietly scolds her to stop. From there, your partner has two paths to choose from:

-If you stop, he will thank you and gently take your hand and place it in his lap.

-If you continue, prepare to be punished when you get home, suffering from the denial of your orgasm while your sadistic boyfriend insults you with the dirtiest language you have ever heard.

Francis Bonnefoy [France]

Francis would love to have a partner who is easily aroused. He knows how to show his love in different ways, but his preferred love language will always be physical.

He is a great connoisseur in sexual matters, he is a know-it-all who will always be above his partner in this regard.

He is a fan of communication. Since before starting the relationship, he has had a conversation with his partner where limits are set. He hates making his partner uncomfortable.

He loves when his partner is the one who initiates the intimate moments, the feeling of being needed turns him on instantly.

He is aware of how easy it is to stimulate his S/O, he loves to tease her with naughty comments or touches, and as soon as she gets turned on, Francis ignores her for a moment just to see her necessary reaction.

If his partner can't speak French, he whispers obscenities in his mother tongue just because he likes to see his S/O's confused face.

Alfred F. Jones [America]

Alfred doesn't have that high a sex drive, but he wouldn't mind having a partner who does. He loves physical contact, and he is someone with a lot of energy, and he shows it a lot in sex.

This boy is usually quite unaware of what is happening around him, most of the time his partner must be very direct with him and tell him what he wants.

He would enjoy watching his partner slip between his legs while he plays video games. He loves it when his S/O surprises him at random times and shows how much he wants his attention.

Alfred is usually very careless with his partner, he doesn't realize that traveling from one place to another doing different things takes him away from his affective responsibilities. His partner should have a talk where she discusses her main needs that she wants to be satisfied by him. It is best to be clear with Alfred if you want to get anywhere.

Ivan Braginski [Russia]

Ivan is very nervous about having an S/O with a huge sexual appetite. He is quite naive in this type of subject, but he works hard to reach the same level of experience as his partner. He is someone who learns fast.

This man is hungry for affection, he doesn't care if the only way to receive it is sexually.

Ivan is someone with a lot of insecurities. There are times when his mind fills with pessimistic thoughts that discourage him and make him paranoid: "If I always do the same thing with her, will she get bored with me?", "If I don't spend the time she wants, will she get someone else?", "does she love me or just wants me to have sex?"

Despite everything, he is someone quite accommodating, his partner only needs to tell him that she is eager to be touched, and he will devote his full attention to her.

He is extremely bad at understanding hints and double meanings. If one day his partner sits on his lap and starts kissing him (with obvious intentions of having sex), Ivan will think that his S/O just wants a cuddle and kiss session; he will limit himself to that unless his beloved tells him what she wants.

Matthew Williams [Canada]

Matthew is grateful to have a partner with a high sexual desire. Many people may see him as disinterested in such matters, but he has so many desires that he is eager to let it flow only with the person he loves.

He may seem like an innocent person, but once his partner gives him notice of how much he wants to be touched, the introverted Canadian turns into a complete stranger who won't stop until he takes her lover's breath away.

His stamina for sex is impressive, and this is even more evident when he receives praise from his partner. She just needs to tell him what a good boy he is, to get him turned on again. He lives for praise!

He loves that his partner is able to be easily aroused as he is too and is always in the mood to cater to his partner's sexual needs as well as himself. He doesn't mind that this happens in the least appropriate places, since he is not ashamed to freely express his sexual life.

Yao Wang [China]

Yao has been in existence for quite a few years, he has run into countless people. Meeting someone with a high libido would not be a surprise to him, however, it would still take work tailored to a relationship with such a partner.

He would have a lot of trouble adjusting to a relationship where his partner has a large sexual appetite. This man has lived for a long time, and many of the old customs have inadvertently stayed with him, based on that, Yao makes clear to his mistress certain conditions such as limiting any sexual proposals to the bedroom.

Yao is often embarrassed by many things, and her partner's continual sexual advances are included.

He's a fan of cute things, and seeing his darling blushing and panting under him is one of the most adorable sights he's ever seen, he tries so hard not to break down seeing his partner in that state.

#hetalia allies #hetalia axis powers #hetalia #hetalia x reader #america x reader #russia x reader #england x reader #france x reader #china x reader #canada x reader #matthew williams #francis bonnefoy #ivan braginsky #yao wang #alfred f jones #arthur kirkland #hetalia headcanons

[aph-fritz]

  an attempt to write a fanfiction. im not the best with creating plots myself so i dont know how well this actually is. i hope you guys enjoy it though :] - fritz

#america #hetalia #america hetalia #aph america #alfred f jones #aph alfred f jones #america x reader #alfred f jones x reader #x reader #hetalia x reader

[tahanann]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

❝ To whoever finds these letters, I hope they reach you well ❞ ✎▫✧⭒....

Fandom: Hetalia Relationship: F/M Pairing: Alfred F. Jones (America) / (Female) Reader Chapter list: 00, 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14 Also posted on: AO3, Wattpad, Quotev

Chapter 12: " Beaches. " ✎▫✧⭒…

After a long, exhausting week, the weekend gave (Y/n) the peace she longed for. She stood in her backyard with a picnic blanket lying at her feet. Matthew sat near her while his dog ran around her yard, searching for a stick. (Y/n) placed the food down on the bright-colored mat and sat across her friend. A small smile appeared on her face as she stared at him. Matthew did the same.

"I'm glad you let me come over today," the Canadian spoke.

"I needed something to do and I figured maybe I could ask you to come over. I didn't want to drive anywhere today anyway."

"I thought you would have asked Felicia to come over instead."

"She's a bit busy this weekend. Her grandmother called her over for a family reunion so she had to go there. I knew you were available though and figured hey, why not. I've wanted to talk to you again anyway, since it's been a while."

The two of them prepared their lunch and splayed them on the blanket. Matthew brought out his containers filled with food but kept one hidden. It was a box of french sweets. His dog was infamous for stealing baked goods. Matt wanted to make sure that Kuma wouldn't suddenly grab the bread and run away. 

He baked it all for this occasion in the hopes of making his friend happy.

(Y/n)'s food wasn't anything special, but she put some love into it today. She was used to cooking simple meals. This time, she put some effort and made her entrees look more appetizing. She remembered a few tips Felicia gave her when it came to cooking. She wanted it to look good for her friend.

The containers were opened after everything was set up. They gave each other paper plates and servings of food. The large dog running around the yard immediately returned to Matthew's side with the stick. His tongue hung out of his mouth as he sniffed the air and whined. He was begging for food, which Matthew was used to. (Y/n) though? Not so much. The urge to give the pup something was hard to resist. 

"Don't," Matthew spoke, "He already ate his food earlier this morning."

"It'll be a small bite," (Y/n) laughed, "After that, I promise I won't give in."

The blonde's eyes looked at his dog, then at his friend. He supposed it couldn't hurt. Kuma would have pounced him anyway. He sighed before letting the woman give the dog a piece of her food. Kuma gently took it from (Y/n)'s hand, ate it, and barked happily. The pup pressed himself against her and licked her cheek. 

(Y/n) laughed a little more, wiping the saliva off with a tissue. Matthew grabbed Kuma's stick and threw it again. The dog turned his attention away from the food for the moment, giving the duo some peace. They ate in silence but chatted in between bites. Their conversations were mostly light and their topics ranged from work to routines.

"How's your cousin?" (Y/n) asked, "I know you don't really like him but it's nice to know how he's doing."

"He's fine...and- well, it's not that I don't like him. It's just that he gets annoying sometimes. He only calls me when he needs a backup healer on one of his games. He could have called his other friends for it though since I know they're available. He always picks me though, saying 'oh but bro you're the best healer I can have!' Like he doesn't play with pros sometimes." Matthew huffed as he bit into his bread.

"He probably wants to hang out with you or something," (Y/n) mumbled, "Have you guys hung out recently?"

"No...not really. I guess. The last time I hung out with him was a few weeks ago but other than that, I haven't called or texted him. He's the one starting conversations and I reply sometimes." Matthew let out a small sigh. "I get where you're coming from though, but still. I don't always want to play video games with him."

"Well, what if you guys do something else? Like go out to eat or something. There are always other places and you should tell him where you want to go."

"He's just going to complain. There's nothing that gets him happy other than video games and hanging out online. I brought him to a park once and wanted to leave because of how boring it was."

(Y/n) shook her head and took a bite of her food. "There's always gonna be a way for you guys to hang out at some place you both like. You just have to ask him and maybe he wouldn't bother you about having you as a healer. The way I see it, he wants to hang out with you." 

Matthew sighed. There is nothing wrong with trying to hang out with him, he supposed. He finished his food and placed his plate down. He hugged his legs as he looked at his friend. 

"I guess you're right," he mumbled, "I'll try and see if I can contact him today or tomorrow. Maybe he wants to go bowling or something next week." (Y/n) smiled at him, saying that she was proud of him for making that decision. 

The friends continued to talk to each other. Sometimes Kuma would butt into the conversation and hoard (Y/n) to himself. The pup would lick her face, nudge against her hand, and whine for more attention. Matthew envied the interaction between his dog and his friend but welcomed it. It was nice to see (Y/n) smile again.

She's been in a dark spot for a long time. She hasn't really opened up as much as he wanted to, but he was sure there were other people that knew. Maybe her other friend, Felicia, would know about it. He wouldn't force her to open up unless she was ready.

But he wasn't going to worry about that today. 

Not when she looks happy today. With huge smiles and loud laughs. Matthew had a feeling that they were all genuine. All of his hopes seem to be coming true for now. 

They continued to talk to each other for a little longer. Matthew stayed as long as he could. It was the least he could do right now. He had been fairly busy for the past few weeks so he's trying to make it up to her. He wants to be there for her.

(Y/n) and Matthew prepared dinner together in her home. The tv chatter filled up the air as they cooked in silence. Kuma was knocked out on the couch in the living room. Their fruit of labor was a full course meal that included dessert. Matthew knew a recipe that was easy to make and required only an hour or two of preparation. 

The two friends shared dinner together, even talking between bites again. They both enjoyed what they made together.

When it came to the end of their hang-out, Matthew stood at the door, holding Kuma's leash. "I'll try and see you again next week. We'll have to see if my cousin agrees to the outing though."

"We can also do the following week if you can't make it next week," (Y/n) responded. She leaned against the doorframe and smiled.

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes, I'm sure, Matthew."

The blond pursed his lips together and sighed. "It's set then. I'll see you two weeks from now." He approached her and pulled her into a hug. (Y/n) laughed as she wrapped her arms around him. He lingered there for a moment, fearing that everything he felt today was going to be a dream.

And that the worst might appear before him. 

"I won't go anywhere, Mattie," she told him. It brought him comfort. 

She was going to be alright. Another week without her was fine. She'll be ok. She'll be safe.

Matthew pulled away from her. "Good night," he whispered. (Y/n) smiled at him and uttered the same. She soon shut the door afterward, barring herself from the rest of the world. (Y/n) doesn't know if her friend stayed behind the barrier or if he immediately left. 

She doesn't know what's going on outside once she hides in her own home. 

The young woman approaches the couch in the living room. She grabbed the remote to turn off the tv that had been broadcasting the news. She drifts from the living room to the kitchen, and eventually her room.

Here, she was by herself. Alone. With her thoughts.

(Y/n) pulls the drawer open and grabbed a letter. The most recent one was this morning. The one that didn't have any significant changes to Jones' demeanor, but speaks of his whereabouts. He was still in the European theatre, fighting for his life, but he was being transported elsewhere.

"Jones," she whispered. She placed a kiss against the paper. She didn't need to greet the paper as she did so this morning. 

My beloved angel, Hey. Hope you're feeling well. I've got some fairly good news. That's what I like to believe anyway. I've just been told that we were moving places. Too many people died here so it's better to move now than never. I don't want to be reminded of the places where my friends died...even if they died months apart. I hate it here, but you already know that.  We're being told that the place we were going to had beaches. Pretty ones too, actually. That's what the commanding officers were saying. I know they're just trying to get morale up again, but with how miserable we all are here, I doubt it's going to actually work. All this talk about pretty beaches is nothing to us. We all know that it's just gonna be a lot of fighting again. We all know what everyone wants. We all want to go home but we can't. We're all stuck here until it all blows over. It's frustrating to think about. We may be moving to a place with pretty beaches, but that pretty beach is just going to be another cage to hold all of us together. We're just going to be fighting with others inside that cage and it's still going to be bloody.  People are still going to die. We're all stuck with the thought that death can come knocking in at any moment.  We're using borrowed time. But hey, we get pretty beaches, right? Ever since the commander's been yapping about it, I started thinking about it too. What if I brought you to a pretty beach? Would you wear those pretty bikinis? Maybe even a little sunhat and some sandals. I'd bring the lunch we packed together, the blankets, towels, and even the oversized umbrella. We could be swimming or building sandcastles together. If you don't want any of that, there's always the thing that many lovers do. The walks on the beach during sunset. I'd love to hold your hand, maybe even spin you around until the waves get to us. We could get soaked or stay perfectly dry. I'd pick up photography if it means that I take pictures of you in the sunset. Even if it'll be in black and white, I think the sun'll illuminate your face. Make it look pretty. Make you look like an absolute angel. I'd love that very much, actually. Maybe when I come home, we can. I'll keep that thought in the back of my mind. I'll do anything to make sure that I live that dream with you, but for now, I'll keep it all in my head. I miss you. Keep yourself safe, angel, and I'll do my best to do the same. Dearly yours, A. F. J

(Y/n) played his scenario in her mind. Although Jones' form was indescribable, she sees his smile, his uniform, and his broken glasses. She too daydreamed.  She had this space in her mind for a while now. It was a place plagued by her thoughts about Jones. He was there. He lingered in her mind. On their shared beach together, they did what they wanted to do. They held hands, hugged, and played in the water. 

The young woman was stuck in a dazed state as her daydream ran rampant. She only snapped out of it when the sun finally set in that fantasy world. Her eyes returned their focus on the paper, that had been in her grasp for far too long. She blinked, took in a deep breath, and sighed. 

She had no words for the young man on the paper. She merely kissed it again and tucked it away in its special place. (Y/n) stood up to get herself ready for the night. She tucked herself in once all was done. The lights were all off. Her eyes stare at the darkness that surrounded her. She knew it was the ceiling above her, but it looked like static.

Things flew in the air as her mind processed thoughts. From fabricated memories to reality, it worked hard to differentiate the two. 

It kept her up at night until her body begged for sleep. Her mind indulged that request and gave her a few hours. She gathered enough energy to move around today. but that wouldn't really change anything. Her habit of staying in bed overpowered her need to move and get up. 

The sun shined outside her window, but it was still dark inside her room. The shadows in (Y/n)'s room wrapped their arms around her, pushing her down the bed. Her eyes kept their gaze on the ceiling above. A blur was barely visible. Her concept of reality is in shambles, but it's trying to be upright.

For her sake.

(Y/n) stayed in bed for an hour or two, her body barely moving an inch. She only moved when she felt her stomach bite itself. It brought her focus back to her body and gave her a reason to get up this morning. 

The young woman followed her daily morning routine of freshening up. She took a moment to study her surroundings in the mirror. That blur was there again, in the corner of the room. It watched her, tempted her to break her own reality. She was stuck in a daze, staring, waiting, until she heard her phone ring in the other room.

She broke her routine to pick up the call. 

Her father was on the line and it looks like he wants a video call.

"Hey kid," the old man spoke, "I haven't heard from you in ages. How are you doing?"

"Dad," (Y/n) replied, "I'm doing alright. How about you?" 

"Alright, I suppose. Been worrying about my only daughter for a long while, you know?" A hearty laugh comes from her phone.

"I know." She kept her phone by her ear as she started pacing around her room. "I'm sorry, dad. I'm always so busy with work and other stuff sometimes that I forget you guys exist." Her lips arched into a frown. She saw her father faux distress by letting out a light groan and falling back just a bit.

"You know that hurts right?" Raphael chuckled, "But hey, there is kinda a way for you to make it up to me though. Dunno about your mother but hey, I've got a solution for me."

(Y/n) rose a brow. "What do you mean by that?"

"I may or may not be driving to your place right now, with a load of money in my bank and a plan to head to the nearest mall or something." 

"Is that why you're in a car right now?" 

"Yeah! Don't you see the traffic going by me right now? Come on now."

"But that's so unsafe! You could crash on your way here. Why didn't you call me earlier?"

"Because that would absolutely be no fun at all. You're probably still sleeping, and plus, it wouldn't be as big of a surprise if I called you before leaving my home. Don't worry about me at all! I've been driving for years, angel, I ain't gonna get in some car accident. Not when I'm watching the road very closely."

The young woman pouted, letting out a sigh. "Dad." She was disappointed, to say the least.

"You look like your mom. Don't make that face." Raphael mumbled. 

"I'm gonna hang up so you can focus on driving," (Y/n) mumbled, "Call me when you're already at my place." 

"Why would you wanna do that?" the old man replied, "I'm already pulling up to your street. End the call when you hear my loud engine."

(Y/n) approached the window that showed her driveway. She peered through her blinds and found her father's car off in the distance. The car that he loved so much, he gave it her name. She didn't really know how to react other than shock.

His engine was loud when he pulled her to her driveway. She ended their short video call and opened the door for him. Her father ran to the door and wrapped his arms around her, spinning her around out of pure joy. 

"There's my daughter," Raphael grinned, "How is the little munchkin doing?" 

"Fine," she replied. She embraced her father a little more before she told him to put her down. Despite her father's age, he lifted her up with ease. He still had the muscle he built up many years ago. 

(Y/n) moved aside to let her father inside and handed him the remote so he could browse the different channels while she got herself ready for their day hanging out in some mall. As she approached the hall, her father stopped her.

"You hosting ghosts or something?" Her father asked, "It's freezing in your house."

"Ghosts? Nah. It's normally how the house is," (Y/n) mumbled, "I guess I've gotten used to it, but if you wanna turn up the heat, the dial's over there in that corner."

"I'll just...stay put. We're gonna be leaving anyway. You go get dressed so we can get outta here," Raphael mused, "I'll just entertain the dead for a little more. Maybe the ghost'll like some action movies, eh?"

The young woman rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Yeah. Right. Ask them if they like watching Rambo 10 million times. Maybe you guys can bond." She waved at her father and disappeared beyond the hallway. It was dark again, and she saw the blur in the corner of her vision.

Ghost.

No that can't be right.

Why would she think her place is haunted?

Ghosts aren't real. 

Maybe she's just tired. Maybe she's just seeing things.

(Y/n) dismissed her thoughts. She brushed past the blur to enter her room, ignoring the thoughts in her mind. She approached her dresser, grabbed comfortable clothes, and took her belongings. She stopped before leaving her room to look at her bed.

She hadn't opened a letter at all today. Quickly she moved, opening the chest and grabbing the top letter. Despite the rush, she opened the envelope as gently as she could. She plucked out the paper inside. 

"I almost forgot," she whispered. "I'm sorry Jones. I didn't mean to." She pleaded to him as if he could hear her. "Good morning, baby."

My dearest angel, How have you been? I hope you're okay wherever you are right now. As for me, I'm doing okay. It's been a peaceful night today. The moon's full and the stars are just as bright as ever. The beaches bring some sort of comfort. I dunno if it's because of the waves or the fact that everything seems so still. I think it's the latter. But it's so weird. I've never experienced this sort of calm in years. It's always been chaotic since the start of the campaign, so to have this much peace is different. I don't think I can get used to it right now. I'm not even sure if I'll get used to it at all.  I suppose it's a good thing that everything seems so peaceful. It's given me time to think. I know I should be sleeping, but I'd rather be thinking. Now, there's a lot in my chest already but I've been thinking about you a lot; about your wellbeing, your safety, and even your happiness. You're always in my mind but there are other things that sort of...make that thought of you for the worst.  I've thought about us. I've now been thinking about what Charles said to me many months ago. I don't like thinking about it, but it's been sitting at the back of my mind ever since he mentioned it. It's the possibility of infidelity. For you, anyway. I've been thinking....and thinking. It's a thought that won't go away, no matter how hard I pick at my scalp to get it out. I hate it. I hate how it might be true. I never wanted to face the truth ever since Charles said it. But given that I've gotten some clarity and I put more thought into it. If you had been sleeping with another guy, be it more mentally stable and physically fit than me, then I suppose I can't get angry at you.  I won't blame you for all of it, because well, I suppose it's essentially my fault for leaving. If I made you upset because of my departure, then I'm deeply sorry. I won't blame you for not wanting to open any of my letters if it helps you feel better about yourself. I understand if you want to forget about me, about everything we went through. I'm fine with that. It hurts me, but I'm ok with that. You don't even have to acknowledge me anymore. I know you're never going to, but still, allow me to write letters to you. There's still a chance that you still care about me. It's very slim, but there's still a chance. So in case you still care, I should confess. You're all I have. I don't tell most of the things to my ma and pa at home. They'll never understand like you. I know I'm a doomed man from the start, but you give me a bit of hope. I'm sorry for the doubts I've written, if they ever upset you. I still have hope for us. My darling angel, I envy and care about you. Take care of yourself. Continue to be happy. Despite what your answer might be, I'll continue to write to you. Let me cling to you for a little longer. Let me kiss you a few more times, that's all I ask. I know grim'll appear at my doorstep eventually. I promise I'll get out of your way then. Forever yours, A.F.J

(Y/n) expected the letter to be depressing, yes, but she never thought of seeing Jones so willing to let go. He still clung on to his girlfriend like his life depended on it, but he was losing his grip. She was jealous. She wanted to do that too, but she felt like it seemed too soon. For Jones, years have already passed by. For her, it's only nearing a year.

The young woman's hand shook for a moment, with emotions piling up in her chest. She planted her usual kiss against the paper before tucking it away in the drawer. (Y/n) approached her bathroom to wipe away tears that threatened to spill. She doesn't want her father asking her about her eyes. 

She leaves her room to return to her father. The old man turned off the tv once he saw his daughter appear from the hallway with her essentials already at hand. 

"Didn't know if the ghost wanted Rambo or not, so I opted to watch Rocky. Think they'll like that instead?" (Y/n)'s father asked.

"Dunno. I'm not the ghost after all." 

Her father led her to his car after she locked her front doors. As she opened the door, she heard someone call out her name. Her eyes connected with her neighbor's. 

Williams. 

There was something she noticed though. There was another car pulled up in his driveway. A dark blue sports car. Matthew was out on the sidewalk, holding Kuma's leash. The dog was yapping as loud as he could to get her attention.

She waved to them before entering her father's car. (Y/n) felt that it was necessary to tell Matthew where she was going to go. Maybe he wanted to know. Raphael merely arched a brow at his daughter before laughing a little.

"Who's the blond?" he asked.

"My friend," she responded, "I've been talking to him for a few months now. He's a real nice guy and has the cutest dog ever." 

"Oh, I could tell. That hound's got a lot of fur to him. Reminds me of your ma's pup before we got married. Real huge one. Dunno how it survived the heat when it's got that much fur to it," he chuckled, "hoping your friend's dog survives well, with how much fur he's hoggin." 

The car pulled out of the driveway and left the neighborhood. The two inside were in their own headspace, with Raphael focused on driving while (Y/n) texted her friends. She had planned to eat first before texting them back, but it looks like that was sort of canceled. She hoped to go eat first before walking around the mall. 

They drove to their usual go-to place for hanging out. It was a large mall that had tons of stores inside. They had recently built up another fun place to go. It was a skate rink and a bowling area in one. The arcade was just right next to it too. That was where Raphael wanted to go the most. The shopping experience was just going to be secondary to them. 

Raphael took his daughter to a restaurant to eat first. Anything she got, he paid for, and he was aiming to keep it that way. He just had a hunch that something was going on with her. (Y/n)'s absence was certainly a strange thing to him, especially when it's compared to her behavior a few months back. 

Such a lovely, charismatic spirit now turned recluse and isolated. Even from the people she loved the most. 

He worries about his own daughter. She was his one and only child. Of course, he's gotta take care of her. 

Through their meal, he asked her about her feelings, which she did little to open up about. (Y/n) munched through her food, saying that she was fine and upheld her reasons. 

"I was just busy. Felicia keeps asking me to go to parties with her and all that stuff. Plus, the company's been really busy so that's extra work," (Y/n) spoke.

"But there's gotta be something else you know?" Raphael mumbled, "You got any love problems or something? Went through something like what you're going through right now when a Jane Doe broke my little heart." He bit his steak and pointed his fork at her. "Can't say that's the same with you but you're definitely moody. I know you take up on my moods."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, trying to dismiss what her father said. He's got the idea, but she wasn't going to make it obvious that she was going through something right now. She can't open up to too many people. What would her father say? Do? He's protective of her and wants the very best of her. If he learns that these damn old letters were troubling her...

He would take him away from her.

She can't have that.

So she'll continue to dismiss everything he's said, mentioned, and even commented on. Her father was stubborn, she knew, but she wasn't going to give in.

Not when she's already caved into two other people. One was enough, two is too much, and three was going to kill her. (Y/n) smiled, moved on, and asked for the bill, leaving her father almost speechless at how dismissive she was. 

She could see his frustration, but he didn't want to show it. He was proud of being a moody bastard but not in the eyes of the public. They all moved on, but her father won't easily give up just like that. There was always another day he could ask. 

Just not today, he supposed.

The father and daughter left the restaurant together and opted to go to the skating rink and bowling first. They were to go shopping afterward. (Y/n) had a great time trying to skate around, even if she wasn't as good as she thought she'd be. Her father? He left her for the center of the rink after she told him to do so. He spun around and danced. After he's gotten his time to shine, he helped her and held her hand as they skated together.

They played one full game of bowling, with (Y/n) winning the set. The arcade was going to be another spot Raphael wanted to visit, but he realized it was already late. That arcade can wait for another day. For the rest of their time together, they spent it all on shopping. 

Even if (Y/n) protested, her father bought everything for her, even the smallest of things like candy or even a ballpoint pen. He had carried every bag for her with his excuse being "I didn't lift weights for nothing." At the end of their day, he placed everything in the trunk and let (Y/n) head inside the car first. 

Their day went well, for the most part. Even if the father didn't get answers to his questions, he was glad that he at least saw a smile on his daughter's face for today. That was good enough for him, anyway. (Y/n) let herself sink in the leather seat, her eyes set to watch the scenery passing them. Raphael did his best to drive her home safely. 

The two pulled up on the driveway. Raphael was the first to head out, grabbing the bags in the trunk and opening the door for his tired daughter. (Y/n) let out a yawn as she rubbed her eyes. She did a lot of things today. Her battery's low now and all she wanted to do was stay in bed for the rest of the night. 

Her father escorted her to the front door, where he watched her pull out her keys. The home's coldness greeted the pair, hugging (Y/n). It felt like warmth, but her father felt a harsh breeze. 

Actual warmth surrounded her when she felt her father hug her. (Y/n)'s hand rested atop her father's arms as she smiled softly. 

"I'll see you around kiddo," her father spoke. He stepped back, sending her a small wave. He watched her disappear as she closed the door.

(Y/n) has once again barred herself from the world. She lingered in the darkness for a moment. That blur at the corner of her vision was there again. It had a silhouette of a person, standing proud and tall.

Waiting.

A tiny light from the moon shinned through them, but something reflected it. Cracked glasses.

(Y/n) turned on the lights to her home, illuminating the area around her. The cold still lingered in her home.

But the blur disappeared.

The young woman kept still. listening to the sounds. She basked in the silence of her home. Only then did she feel comfort in the cold that hugged her. She felt the cold kiss her.

It felt familiar. It reminded her of the winter days when the cold kissed her cheeks. 

She stood there for a moment, letting the moment go on. When it no longer felt cold on her lips, she moved. She blinked and took in everything she felt at that exact time. A small smile, and then a short laugh, leaves her as she thought about what her father said.

"Maybe you're right dad," she whispered. "There is a ghost in the house."

"and he's in love with me."

#hws america x reader #hws x reader #hetalia x reader #hetalia #alfred f jones x reader #aph america x reader #x reader #fem reader #reader insert

[hwsing]

cowboy! alfred f. jones

notes/warnings: 18+, nothing crazy just me being a loser over this man, gender neutral reader, bottom reader, top alfred. PSA i am not exactly a cowboy expert so this might feel more like just southern! alfred lololol. not very long feel free to rq more

cowboy! alfred who rides into your small town on a sturdy, beautiful white horse. he comes with so many stories and has a sweet southern charm that’s not too fancy and all the more boyish. he’s got the biggest grin you’ve ever seen and has more dreams than you can count

cowboy! alfred who’s dick print is hardly contained by his jeans; somehow, the fool seems unaware of his display. he has no idea why you look so skittish, sweetheart, he ain’t gonna bite

cowboy! alfred who comes home to your house after a long day in the sun, sweaty and dehydrated, the only thing he wants to help being your juices; regardless, he’ll spend the night between your legs as long as you let him, getting his share until you can’t anymore. regardless of what he’s sucking, he puts his all into it — it’ll make you wonder how he still has so much energy after a long day of work. while he is naturally an energetic young man, the sight of you as he comes home is enough to get him rowdy and sometimes, the blood drains to his cock so fast he almost passes out! he’ll always spoon you once it’s over, a sleepy grin on his face as he kisses your shoulder and thanks you

cowboy! alfred who offers to teach you to ride if you don’t know how — and, he means both his horse and his cock. his grip on your hips is stronger than intended, he really doesn’t know his own strength, but you barely seem to mind. after all, the feeling of his cockhead pushing against your gummy walls again and again and again relentlessly as he bounces you on his cock. he’ll stretch your hole all night if you let him, really <3

#yeehaw am i right #hetalia #hetalia x reader #my work #hetalia x you #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia headcanons #hetalia hc #aph hetalia #aph america #america x reader #alfred f jones #aph america x reader #hetalia fandom #alfred jones