language: english ,,, words: 650 ,,, category: fluff/ref to smut ,,,
as tagged on ao3 :
extra tags: ireswiss ,, got my friend to beta read for the first time ever cus i never get my friends to beta read and she said it was good!!!!!!! ,, Cross-Posted on Tumblr ,, Fluff ,, Implied/Referenced Sex ,, Aftercare ,, Comfort ,, Comfort No Hurt ,, Cuddling & Snuggling, Care, written at 11pm-1am across 2 nights ,, Ireland ,, Switzerland
warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
With nail scratches still stinging in his back, Ireland rested against the mattress for the first time since getting on top of the swiss man a while ago. His cheek brushed against the pillow as he turned to look at Switzerland, whose tremors hadn’t worn off yet; his shoulder-length, blond hair.. his piercing green eyes.. his lean but muscular figure that looked somewhat cute from above (given their height difference). He found that his will couldn’t stop the hand that reached out to trace some of the old battle scars on his shoulder. Nor could his will stop the words that he most certainly over-used.
“I love you. I love you so much, a chroi..”
Switzerland’s arm flexed under the touch of calloused fingertips. His eyes darted from the ceiling of his lover’s apartment, to Ireland, then swiftly back to the ceiling. The red tint that was just beginning to fade crept back up into his ears, that practically shone like traffic lights against his pale skin and blond hair.
“Ich han… dich gern…”
The whispered german was barely audible but there nonetheless.
Then there was quiet; quiet comfort in the presence of somebody one trusts. For someone as emotionally inept as Switzerland, who detested awkward silences and tenderness, this sort of comfort was a lovey-dovey hell.
Ireland traced the swiss man’s arm all the while, paused at the hand, and lifted it to kiss. There was something he enjoyed about seeing Switzerland unable to deal with fluster. Not that he took pleasure in the other’s pain, of course!- but watching the calm, ironclad façade begin to weaken painted the swiss man in humanistic light.
It made Ireland smile.
“Y’ alright, a stóirín?”
“Yes. Fine.”
Then Switzerland made a halfhearted attempt to roll over, but sleepily found a midway point where his face was looking at the wall and his body angled in Ireland’s direction but still with his back to the irish man; a position that would undoubtedly cause him much neck pain in the coming hours if he were to sleep like that. He felt Ireland’s thumb between his shoulder blades, gentle but firm, kneading at and working out whatever knots had formed since they’d last had the chance to have eachother like this.
Ireland felt oddly, almost abandoned, when faced with Switzerland’s back. He wouldn’t seriously just roll over and sleep.. would he..? His voice adopted a sort of whiny tone.
“Talk to me, honey..?”
It came off as less of a request and more of a polite plead, but it was enough to provoke the stiff swiss man to turn, if only slightly, and admit, in a rare moment of vulnerability; moments like which came as often as a comet, “..I’m not yet used to the… aftercare….”
“Ah, c’mere… It’s like cuddling, only after-… y’know…” Ireland chuckled to himself, as he knew that Switzerland had a habit of short-circuiting at the mention (or even at the implication) of words such as “sex”.
Switzerland shifted backwards into Irelands arm, that wrapped around his waist and whose hand rubbed circles into his hip while the other hand untangled some knots in his hair, absentminded with cloudy, sleepy bliss.
“Now…”, which was Ireland’s version of “there we go!”, which made the tension in Switzerland’s shoulders ease. He hummed contentedly with his cheek pressed into the larger man’s bicep.
“All settled? You need anything?”, and Ireland was back to his usual hostly manner. Switzerland responded with something that may have been “No, just stay here” as he prepared for sleep, but he woke up a little when he heard the mention of hot chocolate being on offer. It only became more enticing when Ireland noted that he’d picked up cream and marshmallows today.
“Alright.” Switzerland had decided. “But hurry back!… And thank you.”
And Ireland left with a sweet kiss on the forehead and a quiet smile that assured; “anything.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hetalia (Anime & Manga)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Lithuania/Prussia (Hetalia)
Characters: Lithuania (Hetalia), Prussia (Hetalia)
Additional Tags: Hiking, Historical References, Fluff, Does this count? It’s fluff to me., Established Relationship, Retired!Prussia
Summary: Gilbert convinces Tolys to take a break from work and go for his idea of a short hike. The past lies everywhere along the path.
My piece for the @hetalia-20-anniversary-zine thank you @lyresbird !!!!!
language: english ,,, words: 238 ,,, category: absolute fluff ,,, song: dream, by the pied pipers
as tagged on ao3 : Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings ,, Lithuania/Poland (Hetalia) ,, Lithuania (Hetalia),, Poland (Hetalia) ,, song: dream (the pied pipers) ,, song ficlet ,, lietpol fluff ,, lithuania being a sap ngl ,, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names ,, Poland is Named Feliks Lukasiewicz ,, Lithuania is Named Toris Laurinaitis (Hetalia) ,, No Smut ,, yes i’m writing a hetalia fic in 2025 ,, sigh
read here or on ao3 (linked below!)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Tolys himself couldn’t help but smile every time he saw Feliks. he looked across the table at the man as he rambled on about how his life had been in the past few weeks.
“and so then, like-… Tol…? what are you looking at..?”
at the words, Tolys hurled himself out of his day-dreamy state. his gaze locked in with Feliks’ green eyes; how they had this light to them that could be described by so few words..
..and then it hit. he loved Feliks. he really loved Feliks.
“ah-! i uhm.. huh?” what a fumble, Tol.
“you’re looking at me all like.. funny..?” Poland could barely get the words out- he could see that look in Tolys’ eyes. he knew how Tolys’ looked at him went beyond platonic implications but he never said anything..
and if only Tol knew.. he had the power to completely change how Feliks could carry himself. his presence alone could destroy that air of confidence that bordered on cocky. the way he spoke, and moved, and even the way he looked could all be ruined by Tolys.
..and then it hit. he loved Tolys. he really loved Tolys.
