Daddy!EnglandxMummy!Reader - Fireworks NightYou snuggled into the thickest, longest [f/c] scarf you had, gloved hands idly playing with its woollen tassels. Somehow, you had been lumbered with responsibility of guarding your table, with the specific instruction to 'ensure other sods don't go pinching it'.Daddy!EnglandxMummy!Reader - Fireworks Night by DocileGloom
By table, it was actually some rickety old wooden bench that had seen better days. Over the years you had spent living in the English countryside, you'd learned that all benches in beer gardens were of a similar condition. But still, it was better than having to stand for hours with the other spectators that had come to the Queen's Head for the fireworks display. And with at least another good half an hour's wait until it all started, you were more content being bored at a table, rickety or no, than to be bored and with leg ache.
Despite it being seven o clock on a Monday night, the whole establishment was full of eager families and patrons crowding together for the festivities, fireworks night - It was like this in nearly ev
Daddy!AmericaXMommy!Reader (request)((WARNING: CONTAINS LARGE AMOUNTS OF FLUFF!!!))Daddy!AmericaXMommy!Reader (request) by ArtisticallyLiterate
Alfred smiled and looked down at the little boy sleeping in his arms, rocking him gently in hopes of getting him back to sleep, humming a soft tune to him as he thought about the months he had missed.
Just a few weeks after you had given birth to little ________, Alfred had had to leave because of the ongoing war, and would have to be gone several months. You had been so strong, you hadn't cried, you had wanted to, but you hadn't, and he was so proud of you for it, and he was proud of you for holding it all together on your own, and staying strong for both him and the little guy.
Alfred had gotten back home just a few minutes ago, you had been sleeping when he came in, he had been about to kiss your forehead and wake you to tell you he was home but then he had heard soft whining sounds coming from the crib in the room you and he shared and had immediately gone over to pick up his son and start rocking him.
He had Alfred's wide blue eyes,
2p!Japan X Reader2p!Japan X Reader2p!Japan X Reader by memowkitty
You stood nevously outside the tattoo parlor, it was your 18th birthday and you could finally get a tattoo. As you opened the door the bell above made a light 'ding' sound, a woman with many tattoos on her arms greeted you.
"Welcome to Ink, what kind of tattoo would you like?" she asked kindly and you fiddled with the paper that had you zodiac symbol printed onto it.
"I wanted my zodiac symbol on my arm" you listend to the buzzing of the needle, most of the seat were taken except on in the back.
"Alright, follow me please" she led you back towards the seat, closing the curtain once you sat down. You nearly ripped the paper you were so anxious, you always wanted a tattoo but now you were having second thoughts.
A few minutes passed and you considered getting up and leave. Just as you were about to stand a man opened the curtain. He had black hair and wore a black shirt, his arms were covered with various tattoos. The strangest thing was he had red eyes, he strode in an
CanadaxDepressed!Reader: Close Your Eyes"It's morning," he tells you, as if it isn't obvious enough with the sunlight streaming in through the curtains, and the birds chirping so loudly they could wake the dead.CanadaxDepressed!Reader: Close Your Eyes by livewithout
You keep your eyes closed, focusing on the dark and hoping you might fall asleep again. "I don't want to move."
"It's almost seven. You're going to be late." He stands, the bed creaking under the shift in weight, and his footsteps thud away. You hear him shuffling around for a minute before coming back to sit down on the edge of the bed. He takes your face in his hands and plants a soft kiss on your cheek. "Come on. Let's go."
You shake your head slowly. "I can't." It takes effort to push the words past your throat—it takes effort to breathe. Your chest hurts, right in the center between your ribcage, next to your heart, and your fingers are cold—so cold you can't feel them.
"What do you mean?" he asks, patiently. "Are you sick?"
How can you put it so that he'll understand? You bite your lip, your eyes