literature

FatherEnglandXMotherReader

Deviation Actions

Published: Apr 3, 2014

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Literature Text

You ran your fingers through the blond locks of your youngest son, big violet eyes looking up at her, and you couldn't help but 'awww' loudly as you embraced the small child.

"Mommy, what are you doing?" A small voice came out slightly muffled as you let him go.

"Well, you were just so cute that I wanted to snuggle into you." His plump cheeks turned a soft red as he tried his best to make a pouty face, which only resulted in him looking even cuter.

"I-I'm not cute..." Letting out a small laugh, you kissed the top of his head.

"Whatever you say, honey." The soft padding of quick steps was heard and soon a small figure came into your line of sight.

"Momma, momma hide me!" your son ran to you and jumped, hugging tightly, trying to use you as a human shield. Heavier footsteps were soon heard as a angry Englishman ran in the room holding a large leatherbound book.

"ALFRED KIRKLAND!" Okay he was mad, using human names. As he ran in, you could see the flames practically bursting out of his eyes. Your son let out a small scream and hid behind you, hoping not to be seen by his fuming father. "DON'T YOU DARE HIDE FROM ME!"

You looked from your flaming husband down to your son and smiled softly. "Alfred, what did you do now?"

He mumbled a quick 'nothing', and you turned to England who was screaming over how he needed to learn some discipline. "Arthur, what did he do?"

He turned to you and you flinched at how angry he looked. "What did he do!? I'll tell you what he did! HE DREW ON MY SPELL BOOK AND SPILLED JUICE ON IT!" You raised a eyebrow at him.
"Arthur. I don't care how angry you are, do NOT yell at me." His shoulders dropped and his eyes softened.

England took a few deep breaths before speaking. "This book was older than America." His face was full of disappointment, sadness....and anger.

You look back down. "Alfred." Your tone was firm making him slightly scared.

"Y-yes..?" You picked up Canada who was still a bit frightened from how angry England was.

"Apologize, and promise you won't ever do that again."

America walked over to England and grabbed his book. He tried to dry it off with his shirt and ended up somewhat drying it while staining his clothes. "I'm sorry daddy. P-Please don't hate me." He said in one of the most innocent voices you had ever heard.

England's frown disappeared as he truly was sorry. Those tears in his big blue eyes surely were not crocodile tears. He crouched down and embraced the small country, small chubby hands immediately clung onto his button up. "America, I could never hate you..."

America looked up at him, eyes wide like a kicked puppy. "R-really?"

He nodded and wiped the tears from his sons eyes. "There-there, chap, I forgive you. It's just...you need to understand that some of my things are irreplaceable, and are very important to me, so please don't touch my things anymore, okay?"

He slightly smiled and hugged England once more. "Okay."

Smiling, you looked at the clock, reading 8:15 p.m. "Okay you two, it looks like it's bed time."

England nodded, picking up a complaining America. You walked upstairs and placed Canada on the bed, England placing America in the twin bed next to him. Since they were already prepared for bed, pajamas, and had their teeth brushed, you proceeded to tuck them in.

"Mommy?" a soft voice whispered to you.

"Yeah sweetie?" You turned around and saw Canada fiddling with the blankets.

"C-can you tell us a story?" You look over to England. He smiled and walked over to the twin bed, pushing it towards the other so they formed a larger one. Fixing the blankets, you placed the two children in the middle while England laid on the right side, and you on the left.

"Okay kids, what story do you want to hear?" They both looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. "Okay, then I have a new one for you guys." There was a look of excitement on both faces as you began to speak.

"A long time ago in France, a woman was running with her child, running away from the evil men who were following her. She reached a church, the church of Notre Dame." You watched as Canada was getting into the story, and America was only halfway there while England had a look of disgust as soon as you mentioned France.

"The woman approached the church asking for help, clutching her child close to her as the men soon neared her, demanding she give up and turn her self in, even if she did no harm. The evil man known as Frollo walked up to her and wrestled her for the bundle in her arms. She refused to give up her child, but Frollo pushed her a little too hard, causing her to fall backwards and onto the steps, dying instantly. Frollo, the evil man, was being yelled at by the archdeacon (the person who took care of the church), who had witnessed everything. Frollo looked down at the bundle in his arms and began to remove the blankets, and a gasp left his lips as he realized it was a child. Except, there was something different about the child, nothing like he had ever seen. Frollo decided to take responsibility, raising the child as his own, even if he was different." At this point your two boys were listening.

"Momma, how was he different? Was he a alien monster?" Laughing at Americas deductions you shook your head.
"Patience, little one. Now, years later, everything was the same in the village, except inside the tower of Notre Dame, there was a young Englishman. He climbed the wooden beams to the top, swinging on ropes to and from different sides of the church tower. He jumped down, landing in front of the bells, boots making a sound when colliding with the floor. He raised a hand and brushed back some of his golden messy hair as he began to ring the bells from the tower. Smiling and showing off his pearly whites as the beautiful bells played their tune.

"Once that was over, he turned to speak with his gargoyle friends like usual. They had been trying to convince him to leave the tower for the first time, as there was to be a festival in town. Remembering that he was told by Frollo to never disobey him or leave the tower, he gave every excuse he could, things like 'I could never.', and 'I shouldn't', until it finally came down to 'What if..." At last he had given in, and decided to go to the festival. Uncertainty was evident in his green eyes. He placed a dark green cloak over his figure, hiding his face as he began to go through the crowds of people. In the end he was shoved atop a stage and he looked around terrified, soon his green eyes-"

"Met vibrant (e/c) eyes. She had a lovely figure, and her (h/c) hair seemed to shine in the afternoon light, giving her an angelic glow." England cut you off, giving his own perspective of the story. He winked at you, and you felt your cheeks warm up as allowed you to continue. "Anyways, as she began to dance around him, she slowly approached him until little by little, she began to move the hood up from his face. His soft pink lips were seen first, then she lift it more and saw beautiful grass green eyes, she was instantly hooked on them. Wanting to see more of him, she ripped off the cloak and had revealed..." You paused for a dramatic effect. "The bushiest eyebrows anyone had ever seen!"

Giggles erupted from the twins while England semed to be offended. "Haha, it's dad right!?" America yelled and you shrugged.

"We'll see... Okay, now back to the story. A gasp flew out from her lips along with the other villagers. After seeing the hurt look on his face, she offered him a kind smile and turned to the villagers. 'I think we have a winner!' She announced, placing a crown atop his golden locks. The crowd cheered and carried him around in a chair. He seemed to feel better until a tomato made contact with his face. Soon, there was another, and another! Tomato after tomato hit him while the female began to scream at them all to stop. With no luck, a familiar figure appeared and-"

"Love?"

You raised a eyebrow and looked at England "Yeah?"

He gestured towards the sleeping twins and you smiled. Kissing their foreheads, you tucked them in and turned on the nightlight while walking out, England in tow. You shut the door quietly and turned as a pair of lips came crashing onto yours.

"Mph-!" You soon melted into the kiss and England moved into the crook of your neck, nipping at your jawline, neck and collar bone. He pulled away, you could feel his hands roaming around and his hot breath on your neck.

"I'll have to punish you for that story, love. You didn't think you could make fun of me and get away with it, did you?"

Ok, I've had this story for a while but what's the point without internet access you know? Anyways here it is. I hope it doesn't suck. Please I love comments do not read and run please? And I would also like to thank my lovely editor who made this story possible.

everyone luv her as much as you luv me ok? (Not that you love me but love her more she worked hard editing my crappy stories.) welp, hope you like it guys. And girls, and well everything out there. Enjoy it organisms (I'm sorry if your not a organism then enjoy it object of no life, omg I sound meaner. I'm sorry I'll be going now.)

hetalia (c)