MW: Something I made long ago, but never uploaded here. Anyways, so the story behind this one.
A country X reader group on DA was having a 7 Deadly Sins/Valentine's day celebration contest. So deciding that I was going to be completely original and do something awesome, I wrote a reader insert poem about France using the sin lust. The contest hasn't even given the results yet and this was back in February!
By the way, this is my longest poem yet and I'm rather impressed with it. (And I gotta stop writing mature poems . )
Remember to review~!
Warnings: Language and Suggested molestation/ sexual abuse
Disclaimer: I own the poem, not Hetalia. Steal this poem and I will hurt you.
It was Valentine's day,
That stupid celebration.
You've sold flowers all day
to Love's persuaders who win.
None ever looked your way
(You only sold the flowers).
Still, you hoped that someday
a man would stay the hour.
It was during that bout
of pathetic loneliness
you heard the bell ring out
and a man say, "Bonjour Miss."
In walked a tall blond man,
Slender with a flawless grace.
The blue eyes of this man
sparkled from his perfect face.
Cupid visited you
and laid a spell of your heart.
You could say it was true
you craved his love and his heart.
Slowly, you replied, "Hi.
This is Antonio's shop.
Is there a flower you'll like?"
Even now, you heart flip-flopped.
He said, "I come from France.
Je m'appelle Francis Bonnefoy.
I ordered in advance
les fleurs for my little boy."
"His little boy," thought you.
The fact made you unhappy.
You could say it was true:
Francis Bonnefoy was married.
Why can't you meet a man
who was sexy and still free?
You longed for a dear man
To give love and never leave.
"I believe Boss told me
about your bouquet of roses,"
You told the French beauty
as you left to fetch the roses.
They were in the back room;
White roses in a glass vase.
Red maple leaves were shrew
From the apex to the base.
The flag of Canada
is what it resembled.
How could this be thought of
a good gift for his child?
You brought it out for him
and Francis smiled slyly.
"Is something wrong?" he grinned.
"Ma chère, you don't look too happy."
You weren't sure if you should
ask him something personal-
but then again, you could
since the French were personal
when it came to questions.
The gorgeous man's eye lured you
and at last you asked the man:
"Isn't sending flowers rude
when the recipient is
you own child, your own kin?
Giving flowers to him is
wrong and a parenting sin."
Francis raised an eyebrow
and leaned into the counter.
He gave a 'hon-hon'- a vow.
Your excited heart faltered.
Rose perfume surrounded
the intoxicating air
and left you do confounded
Along with his lovely stare.
You felt it tactful to
join him in front of the glass
counter that shielded you
from the man of higher class.
"Why would a belle like you
care about me?" he asked.
His arm wrapped around you
and a strong hand gripped your ass.
Normally, you would have
slapped the pervert's hand away
but those clear blue eyes had
your senses casted away.
"Since you asked nicely, of
course I'll tell you," said he.
"Tis a story of love
and how moi failed at being
fatherly. Long ago,
(I am older than I look),
before my son was grown,
Notre maison lied by a brook.
We lived in harmony
in Canada- it was called
home- It was formally
French land after all.
Mon fils, Matthieu, was shy
and his blond hair was like mine.
Never a boy so kind;
Good hearted, he was only mine.
But due to circumstance,
I left him at home often.
But while I was in France,
I constantly thought of him.
Mon Angleterre told me
that it was what parents did.
Yet I was not at ease-
A wrong feeling laid amid
The love I felt for him.
One night when I held Matthieu,
My sweet, adorable kid,
My traitor of a hand moved.
It traveled lower an'
lower, feeling his body.
The feeling of his skin
was so right and so Godly.
As my hand moved, I found
A pleasure I had to deny."
You should had made a sound,
but nothing was on your mind.
The blond paused for you to
object to what he implied.
But when you didn't move,
he continued with a sigh.
"I craved my son's body
in every sexual way.
How I cursed my hoby!
Yet I live it to this day.
Oh, mais je suis son pere,
I had to- must -protect him.
And so, he left my care
and lived with that damn Britain.
Every Valentine's day,
I send mon Matthieu flowers
so that my love not fade
and he thinks son pere sour."
You stared. You were quiet.
This man lusted for his son,
A man you only met.
Surly, you wanted him none.
But instead you smiled,
you small hand in his.
You stared for awhile
before giving him a kiss.
It was gentle and soft
on his cheek that was studded.
Then you backed off.
This feeling inside: loved it.
Francis smiled at you,
flirtation on his lips.
Complying with the mood,
he leaned in for a French kiss.
You turned your head and he
pecked your cheek. You told the man,
"I am not so easy."
You prayed he could understand.
"Of course, you're not," he said.
Francis gave you a long wink.
"Perhaps when you shift ends
we can get something to drink."
You smiled and gave him
his beautiful rose bouquet.
"Tell Matthieu you love him,"
You said. "Then we can, okay?"
Francis stared at you, shocked.
Slowly, he took them from you
and stood as still as a rock,
Staring frozen at you.
"Merci beaucoup, merci,"
He said as he kissed your hand.
The French man left steady-
You watched as long as you can.
Francis Bonnefoy was gone,
no longer in your presence.
But he was like a song:
still there, but not seen again.
Every Valentine's day,
you waited with the flowers
for him to come your way
and love you for the hour.
But he never did come.
The sad truth was made so clear:
He never told his one son
About his fatherly fear.
Twas the strangest of man-
That Frenchman, France Bonnefoy.
Did his boy understand
He was his father's true joy?
It was Valentine's day,
That holiday was lover's cheer
You've sold flowers all day
Waiting for him to appear.
MW: Funfact: The story about why France gave Canada away was the original back story for some hinted Franada in HETA. But I decided that since Canada was not a very important character, it wasn't necessary and thus I deleted it.
Plus I didn't think that the fangirls would be happy if I made France such a pervert.
French Pronunciation Guide
"Bonjour" [bon-j-roar] Hello
"Je m'appelle" [j-e-ma-pell] My name is
"Les fleurs" [lay fl-err] the flowers
"Ma chère" [ma-share] My dear
"Notre maison" [No-tra-may-sOn] My house
"Mon fils" [mOn-fee-s] My son
"Mon Angleterre" [mOn-Ang-le-tare] My England
"Mais je suis son pere" [May-j-e-sw-eas-sOn-pear] But I am his father
"Merci beaucoup" [mercy-bow-coop] Thanks a lot
Drop in a review!
