england snuggled with america

Don't Forget, I Love You

It was easy to tell when America was upset.

After the world meeting, the nation was… off. Gone was his sunny demeanor, instead his stance was slumped, he got quiet, and he shrank into himself. England was visiting, and as soon as they both arrived home, America shut himself in his room. Odd.

“America? Love? Are you alright?” England asked at the younger nation’s door, worried. Silence. England tried again. No response. He jiggled the doorknob. It was locked. England gave a deep sigh, resting his head on the door. “Would you stop being an absolute twat and come out? I guess you’re not as heroic as you claim.” Still, nothing. Now England was really getting worried. Insults almost always did the trick. Well, he was knew one thing would work without fail: food.

England knew by now that he couldn’t cook, but he could sure as hell bake!

After a good hour or so, (with failed attempts to coax America out,) England simply placed the baked goods outside his door, letting the smell waft into room. It didn’t take long for the young nation to open the door.

England quickly snatched up the plate of food. “Not until you let me in.” America opened the door wider, turning back inside. The older nation quickly followed, placing the plate down on the bed. England gazed deep into America’s eyes. “Now tell me. What’s wrong.” America squirmed, but England remained firm. “Tell me.”

America flopped down on his bed, turning away from England. “Why am I so unlovable?”

The question genuinely shocked England. “What do you mean poppet?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know. You can see the way the other countries look at me. I’m just some obnoxious, stupid, silly clown who’s only a burden on the world. Everyone wishes I was gone. And-and I agree with them. I’m useless. I wish I didn’t exsist.”

The confession broke England’s heart. “America, look at me.” The nation complied, and England saw that he was crying. England wiped his tears away. “America, that isn’t true-”

“Yes it is and you know it! Don’t lie to me.”

“Young man you will listen to me!” The older nation yelled, causing America to wince. Softer, the Brit continued. “That isn’t true. Truth is, meetings would be boring if you weren’t there. The others won’t admit it, but they love your optimism. It reminds them that there’s still hope and happiness in this world. You’re intelligent, anyone can see that. With all that your country has produced, and the way you act during wars, there is no way you can’t be. You’re ideas would be clever, you just need to put more thought into them. America,” England lifted the younger nation’s chin up “do you really think that no one loves you? Certainly Canada does, and France too. For God’s sake I love you. More than anything.

America sniffed, wrapping England in a big hug. “Thank you.”

“Of course love, now eat these. I didn’t bake them for nothing.”

Of course America would never admit that he had a huge soft spot for England’s baked goods, but those were the one thing he could make, and they were very delicious. The island nation smiled as he glimpsed America’s usual demeanor start to return, receiving a kiss from said country in gratitude.

America tried to get up, but England refused to allow him. “Let me pamper you, poppet.” America huffed but allowed his lover to gently rub his back, working out the knots that had built up. All the while England whispered sweet nothings into America’s ear, causing him to blush slightly. When that was done England lead America to the couch, where he snuggled into him, knowing how much America loved that. The only time they broke contact was for England to bring him food, feeding him and punctuating each bite with a kiss. After hours of this, the two nations entered the tub, where America allowed England to wash him. He was completely at ease, even becoming sleepy. They both collapsed into the bed, where America instantly wrapped himself around his lover.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” America whispered as soon as they had gotten comfortable.

“It’s always nice to hear.”

“No, I’m serious. You’re the best, and I’m sorry you had to see me like that and thank you for taking care of me and I lov-

England kissed him, effectively shutting him up. "Shhh love. I care about you. That’s all the reason I need to lift you up when you’re down, isn’t it?”

America couldn’t argue with that, so he gave England one more kiss on the forehead before falling asleep with a smile on his face and a mind at ease.



the-littlest-badger  asked:

How would the 2Ps react to their S/O asking for snuggles or just crawling into their lap?

America/England: Allen/Oliver would glomp them, because he loves to cuddle and hold his S/O; and sometimes the S/O doesn’t have a choice because he will just grab you to snuggle with.

Canada: Matt like Allen loves to cuddle, tho he’ll never inculcate it. So his S/O will normally have to ask to cuddle and he would be so chill with it. Just be were Kuma gets jealous.

China: Xiao would jokingly complain but would cuddle you none the less. He likes to teas you, making comments about your red cheeks if they are, or just try to get you flustered while cuddling.

France: Like Xiao but serious with the complaining. Frank doesn’t like the idea of cuddling, or physical contact, but when you start to cuddle he tends to open up more and enjoy himself

Germany: Lutz is always for the cuddles! But be careful he likes to twist cuddling into a sexual thing and like Xiao he will teas you just to see you flustered.

Italy: As long as Luciano’s not working or theirs people around he is a serious cuddler! He would whisper sentimental nothings into your ear and rub your arm. But If you caught him working or in a room with people he would brush you off. He would make it up to you later tho.

Japan: Kurro would be taken back by your request to cuddle. You would have to ask and ask, because he just like his 1P hates being touched. he would evenly come around to the idea but only for short periods of time.

Prussia: Gillen is nerves when it comes to cuddling, so when you ask it will make him flustered; but he loves it. Although he would most likely never get the courage to ask you to cuddle.

Romano: It would depend on what’s Flavio’s wearing. If he’s dressed nice he would most likely denies it, depending on your puppy dog eyes. If he’s dressed in leisure attire he would so go for it; just remember leisure attire is fancy casual to normal people and he would still be upset if you ruined his outfit.

Russia: Victor would mumble a complaint but let you wort on him, much like Frank, but he would not open up and enjoy it. He sees it as a nuisance, but deals with it because he loves you.


November 23rd, 2014 - Put the Kettle On

AUTHOR: Pepper’s Ghost

23rd of November, 2014 - Put the Kettle On

The creaky floorboard at the entry of the room immediately drew England’s attention from his book.

“I’d wondered where you’d gone off to Alfred,” said England. America stood before him in scruffy jeans and a trashed white shirt. He was covered in grease and other car blick but looking a touch more settled then he had been in the past 24 hours.

“I needed something to do and your car was giving me the look,” America said.

“Really now,” said England. “’The look’ - sounds intimidating. I hope you showed it what for.”

“Yeah,” said America. He was brightening right before England’s eyes at the easy conversation they were having. “Yeah, I did!

America put one hand on his waist and began to tick off the ailments he’d fixed, "No more odd rattling noise. No more bump in the fender when you backed into Francis’ car. Vacuumed interior. Fixed the radio. Tire pressure. Oil change. Blah blah blah. Honestly the only thing left to do is to repaint the thing so it doesn’t look like crap.”

“My car does not look like crap,” said England. America shot him a very pointed look and England couldn’t help but relent. “It just has character.”

America chuckled a bit. It was rich and wholesome and everything England had been missing lately. Even as the laughter died down the good humor remained. America snagged the filthy rag poking out of his back pocket (one that looked suspiciously like England’s brand new Please, Please Me commemorative tea towel and boy was England going to kill him over that) and dabbed a clean spot at the corner of his eyes. He then drug the cloth across his sweaty brow inadvertently spreading grease all over his face.

“You almost done with that book?” said America.

“Indeed,” said England. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up and we’ll be lazy with dinner in front of the television. I’m sure there’s got to be something easy on.”

America nodded in agreement and made his way out of the small room.

“Do you need help?” England said when America paused for a moment too long on at the foot of the staircase.

In the shower?!” Even through the wall England could hear the squeak in America’s voice. He was sure the other was blushing too.

“You never know,” England said – more to himself then anyone really, but America had poked his head back in the room and caught it anyway.

“Right…so after I get all squeaky clean we can do stuff together?” said America. His eyes were bright and teasing even if his ears and neck were red.

“No one shall ever be able to take Narnia away from me but yes…if you feel like doing something together then I am ready too.”

“Ok!” said America. He thundered up the stairs.

England finished up the last few pages of the book and then rooted around in the fridge for some good finger food dinner. Unable to locate anything other then all of the surplus America had insisted on bringing for his Thanksgiving feast, England hopped on his bike and made a quick trip down to a nearby kebab place.

10 minutes later he was back home again, food at the ready in front of the television, just in time for a clean America to come walking in with a towel absentmindedly being rubbed into his hair.

He plopped down on the couch next to England and sighed gustily.

“What a shitty vacation,” said America.

“Hey now,” said England. He brushed shoulders with America and discretely inched closer to his companion. “I’m here with you. I know I’m no substitute but – ”

“Sorry Arthur,” said America. “I’m just…” America waved his hand like he was trying to dispel cobwebs.

“Come here,” said England. America instantly curled up around him. “Now you listen to me. We are going to have a bloody fantastic vacation together - Thanksgiving and all. This is life, Alfred, and we have to just keep going regardless of the storms around us.”

“But I’m not being any fun,” said America.

“And frankly I’m not in the mood for any fun considering the circumstances,” said England. “But at least I have you and I can hold you close and try to make it better in some small way.”

They held each other silently for a moment.

The solace was lost as soon as America reached for the food. He didn’t fully let go of England and therefore couldn’t quite reach the plate. Not one to get between America and his’ stomach, England leaned forward and together the pair grabbed the plate before them. After all of the jostling was over they settled back against each other again.

“So you find something you wanted to watch?” said America.

“I thought we might try this new show,” England said. “My sources tell me it’s about space.”

“I love space,” America said. “It’s so big and nothing matters.”

“It’s on at 5:10.”

“ Arthur…It’s 5:10 now – ”

“Blast!” said England. “We’re late.”

Again their embrace was interrupted by England frantically trying to find the infernal device America had gotten him a few years back that changed the stations and volume with the click of a button. It was a few moments before the other popped out from under the end table with a triumphant “a-ha!”

England flicked on the television and quickly clicked until he found what he was looking for.

“Look; it’s just now starting!” said England. He snuggled back into America and made sure to place the remote on the couch arm just in reach should something too unsavory decided to interrupt the program and America’s improving mood.

The pair were silent for the entire opening until the show finally started.

“So who’s the doctor Arthur?” said America.

“Quit talking. Just watch.”

“No seriously,” said America. “Doctor Who?”


Author’s Notes: On November 23, 1963, the first episode of Doctor Who aired. Unfortunately, Doctor Who fun times and America’s Thanksgiving vacation over at England’s house were a bit of a problem that year thanks to the death of John F. Kennedy (and Adolph Huxley and C. S. Lewis) the day prior. They’re both dealing with grief in their own way. As for why America isn’t reacting a bit more – I’d bet that England is doing his best to shield America from the fall out which is helping to cut down on the paranoia of an assassinated leader. Being so far away from the action he’s still probably dealing with the deep internal emptiness his people were feeling. (Or at least that is just one of my many head canons.) Other historical asides: Please, Please Me the first album by The Beatles came out earlier in 1963 and was wildly popular; commemorative tea towels are a thing; TV remotes have been around since the mid-50s and made a prominent clicking noise when changing anything hence the term ‘clicker.’ Lastly, the title, Put the Kettle On, is in reference to “TV pickup” – a phenomena that commonly occurs in the UK by a mass use of turning on electric kettles or opening fridge doors during commercial breaks. In recent years Doctor Who has been a major contributor to TV pickup.