A/N: OK, so I am new to the Hetalia fandom, having only watched a few episodes so far but...I am already in love (largely thanks to my awesome DA friend FlashyPebble). Even though I only recently got into the fandom, I am amazed at how fun and hilarious the series is! The characters are loveable, the humour is brilliant and the stories are hilarious beyond belief! So after a lot of hesitation, I've decided to upload my first Hetalia fanfic. I was extremely nervous to do this, but I did. I hope you will enjoy this and the other Hetalia fanfics I will be uploading soon! :D
Fun fact before we start: This first story is actually based on a dream I had :D
UPDATE: I recently received a notice from someone that FFN apparently does not allow reader-insert stories. I checked the guidelines again and it turns out, this type of story does fall into that category. So at their suggestion, I am going to make a few changes to this story (and the upcoming ones). Just to avoid getting into trouble, I'm going to switch these stories to first and third person, but the overall stories will be the same. However, you can find the second-person versions of the stories on my Deviantart, A03/Archive of Our Own, and Wattpad (I am Agent Sandra Cartrip on all of them). I truly apologise for the inconvenience, but I don't want to get in trouble with the admins, especially since I've been keeping a clean record up here for four years (which I'd rather not ruin). I hope you will still enjoy the story though!
Morning Blues (France x Depressed Reader - third person) [Rated K plus for romance, just because I'm paranoid XD]
It is morning. The sun rays peek through the window and shine on her face. Her eyes flutter and she moans softly. She shifts in her bed a bit, cracking her eyes open to see the daylight pouring in from outside her window. She groans, blinking back tears. She doesn't want to get out of bed today….she just wants to go back under the covers and sleep.
"Mademoiselle," she hears a gentle male French voice say.
She moans softly, pulling the covers over her head.
"Mademoiselle, wake up." The voice says again. She feels a soft hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her.
Reluctantly, she pulls back the covers. She opens her eyes to see France sitting on the edge of her bed, clad in his magnificent blue cape. His long golden hair sparkles against the sunlight and his sea blue eyes stare deeply into hers. Upon seeing her sleepy face, he smiles.
"Mademoiselle, it is time for you to wake up," he says, reaching out to brush a loose strand of hair out of her face.
She whimpers softly, closing her eyes. She then rolls over on her side, burying her head in the pillow. "No," she whispers softly, "I can't….not today…."
"Why not?" France asks, inching himself closer to her.
She presses harder into the pillow, fighting back tears as she struggles not to cry. She sniffles, and tears begin to pour from her eyes.
"Mademoiselle, what is wrong?" France asks, the concern audible in his voice. He places his hand on her shoulder and pulls back the cover slightly, trying to get a better look at her face.
She wants to tell him. She wishes she could tell him. She wishes she could throw her arms around him and tell him exactly how she's been feeling….that for the past few days, she's been feeling so down...so sad. But she doesn't want to trouble him. He would only worry about her and fuss over her worse than any mother.
But when she hears his voice, she glances up at him. His handsome face is etched with concern, his eyes appearing to be pleading her to tell him what's wrong.
Finally, she cannot take it anymore. She suddenly hides her face in the covers as the waterworks come on. Before she knows it, she's pouring her heart out to him.
"Oh Francis….I've been feeling so down lately….I don't know why….but it's like all I ever do is cry….I just feel very sad….and every day….I wish I could just crawl under the covers and sleep my life away. And today….I just can't get out of bed. I just can't."
For a moment France is silent. Then he leans closer, placing his hand atop her head. "Oh Mademoiselle….you shouldn't have to suffer like this." A pause. "We will just have to fix that."
She sniffles, glancing up at him. "W-what?" she stammers, her voice hoarse from crying.
"Lie down," France commands. He places both hands on her cheeks, keeping her head against your pillow. Then he leans forward and tenderly kisses her right cheek, and then her left. He then kisses her lips, closing his eyes in bliss. Her heart begins to beat faster, and she too closes your eyes. His lips are sweet and soft, and the smell of roses fills her nostrils. His hair falls onto her shoulder, tickling her slightly.
"Mmmm ma cherie….you're beautiful," he says between kisses. "Ooh….oh...je t'aime."
And at that moment, the sadness in her heart begins to melt away. She begins to feel flushed and happy as he continues to kiss her, whispering sweet things in her ears. She begins to smile, and then starts to laugh, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his. He then laughs too, hugging her closer and running his hands along her back.
"Feeling better Mademoiselle?" he asks, pulling away slightly.
She smiles and nods. Her eyes are still misty, but the sorrow and pain in her heart have subsided. She is now awake, looking into his eyes, his arms around her.
"Oh, I love you Francis," she says, her mouth twitching into a smile.
The Frenchman smiles back at her, pulling her closer to him. "Je t'aime, mademoiselle" He kisses her lips passionately. He then pulls back, cupping her face in his hands.
"Ah, you are flushed!" he remarks, "and smiling too! Are you feeling better, ma cherie?"
"Oui!" she replies with a smile, "I am!"
France chuckles. "Well now….let us get some breakfast shall we? I'll make us a most delightful brioche!"
At this she smiles at him, giggling slightly. "Well then….allons-y!"
France then takes her hand and helps her out of bed. He grabs her robe and hands it to her. Slipping it on, she offers him one more smile before he takes her hand and leads her out of her bedroom. As they walk on, she leans into him, putting her arm around his waist. He smiles back at her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he guides her down the spiral staircase. I am so lucky to have a man like him, she thinks, he might be flirty and perhaps slightly pervy, but deep down inside he's sweet and always looking after me. I love him so much.
And then, hand in hand, they venture into the kitchen together, ready to face another day at the World Conference.
Well there you have it! My first Hetalia story! :'D Man it took a lot of courage to post this! Overall I'm pretty happy with it, though I feel the ending was a little rushed :p As said, it's my first attempt at writing any sort of Hetalia fic, so yeah :p
Constructive criticism is appreciated (and a beta reader would be fabulous!) but flaming WILL NOT BE TOLERATED. Doing so will result in a block. So please don't make me do that D:
Anyway, on a more positive note, if you have any suggestions or ideas for Hetalia x reader stories, feel free to suggest them to me! While I won't be taking actual requests I am interested to hear your ideas! But please make sure they do not surpass a T rating (no smut or anything like that). I am also not comfortable doing yaoi/yuri (I'm totally fine with other people doing it, it's just I personally am not a fan). However, I may write some future entries in a gender-neutral POV so that people of any gender can enjoy it ;) You may also suggest ideas pertaining to ANY Hetalia character in the series, not just the World 8 :D
I hope you enjoyed the story and look forward to more to come! :D
EDIT: As stated above, I had to change the perspective from second person to third person (though I may write some in first person) in order to abide by the FFN rules. However, I did try to make the "she" character as vague as possible in order to accommodate the reader. Apologies if this is awkward...blame the guidelines XD Regardless, I hope you enjoyed this!