2p!Hetalia x Male!Reader Oneshots

2P!France x Male!Reader-Co-dependency

(Trigger Warning: Guns, slight gore, toxic-relationships)

Third Person POV:

The sun had nearly set, and Oliver was still here. He wasn't usually, most times the lively brit would stop by for a bit of tea and a couple of minutes of François' time. Sometimes (Y/n) was invited, most times he wasn't. Not because Oliver didn't want him there, but because (Y/n) was very aware of the things Oliver had said to his boyfriend François. Whispered lies that François was trying to manipulate him, and abuse him verbally and mentally.

But that simply wasn't true. (Y/n) knew that François loved him. Why else would he get rid of all the people in his life that were poisoning his thoughts? The ones that were trying to convince him his boyfriend wasn't the reason he was literally breathing right now. François let (Y/n) stay in their home all day long and even limited his social media intake to keep him away from the people who just wouldn't believe the love the two carried for one another.

(Y/n) could hear the two men talking downstairs in the kitchen. Could hear Oliver's giggles and friendly remarks, and François' muffled grunts of reply to the brit's chatter. He had been listening to the two converse for the past three hours. He knew he wasn't allowed downstairs, if he went down Oliver would simply be tempted to try and steal (Y/n) away, as François had said once. (Y/n) knew how François reacted to those remarks, he knew all too well how the Frenchman would often drink himself into a stupor of upset emotions and become insecure that (Y/n) would leave him for the strawberry blonde still giggling away downstairs. No matter how hard he tried, (Y/n) was never able to calm the other man down from these episodes, and often would allow himself to be placed under lock and key to show François that he was still very loyal to him.

So (Y/n) stayed in their bedroom, his stomach gently growled with hunger, however, he stayed. He was a good boyfriend, he didn't want François to deal with the burden of the brit's cruel words. When the kitchen grew quiet, the other was tempted to tip-toe down to eat dinner, but he hadn't heard the door open or close. So Oliver was still in the house.

(Y/n) could hear the downstairs bathroom door open and close, one of them must have just gone to the bathroom. With a sigh, (Y/n) turned to lay on his side and shut his eyes, if he slept, he wouldn't have to deal with his hunger until tomorrow.

There were footsteps creaking up the stairs slowly, softly.

(Y/n)'s POV

Those definitely weren't François' footsteps. Which meant that Oliver must be coming up the stairs. If François was using the bathroom downstairs, then maybe Oliver also had to use the bathroom? The only other bathroom in the house was across the hall from your room. This explains why the footsteps trailed to right in front of your door. You held your breath, being sure not to make a sound. He couldn't know that you were here. You had to be a good boyfriend for François.

"Poppet?" Came the whispered voice of Oliver along with the soft rattling of the doorknob on the door. Your heart hammered in your chest. Was he looking for you? What would happen if François saw him up here with you? You stayed quiet, hoping that he wouldn't come in, maybe if he didn't hear your breathing-

"(Y/n)? Are you here?" The door was open, casting a beam of light from the hallway into the darkroom and across your form on the bed. Your back was to the door, but you could see the brit's shadow lurking in the doorway. Your heart was still trying to escape your ribcage, but you still weren't breathing.

Footsteps made their way over to you and you jumped when a hand was placed on your shoulder.

"Thank goodness you're alive." He turned your form over and you stared up at him, mortified. What was he doing? Why was he in your room? Where was François? Was he going to take you away? "Come, quickly, we have to leave before-"

"François!" You screamed, shoving the other's hand away and backing up to the far edge of the bed.

"No! No please, you don't understand, you're not safe here!" The brit whisper-shouted, panic was written all over his face. You prepared your lungs to scream once more, but before you could get out even a syllable a piercing noise shot through the air and caused you to flinch and cover your ears.

A warm wet substance coated your face, Oliver stood before you for a second longer. The panicked expression still coated his face until blood trickled between his eyes all the way down to the collar of his shirt from the gaping bullet hole burrowed between his eyebrows. His limp form melted into the floor like the puddle of blood pooling from the gruesome wound. In his place stood François, his gun still raised, his gaze set in a deathly level stare directly into your (e/c) irises. You didn't realize when you were on your feet, or when you nearly tripped over the brit's body, not until you were embraced by a warm pair of arms. A large hand resting on your back as you were held in a deathly grip, the cool metal of the pistol in your boyfriend's hand brushed your skin through your clothes like a refreshing and cool sip of water.

"Shh, tout va bien, tu es maintenant en sécurité." His warm hand was rubbing circles on your back. And his grip was so tight you felt like you couldn't breathe.

"I'm sorry," You managed through a choked sob. "He saw me, I don't know why he came up here, I tried so hard to stay quiet." You were trembling, waiting for the other to tell you you had been loud, to explain why you were bad and why you caused this. It's what you needed him to do, because why else would Oliver have come upstairs? When thinking of the brit, you couldn't help but look over your shoulder at his limp body. Warm fingers took your chin rather gently, far gentler than you've ever been handled by François before. It was like a jolt of electricity when the other cupped your (s/t) cheeks, wiping away the blood slowly cooling on your face.

"You did nothing wrong tonight, (Y/n)." You could see it, the ghost of a smile playing at the edge of your boyfriend's deep violet eyes. You always felt as though the Frenchman's eyes were enchanting, you could always be sucked right in. However, a sudden harsh grip on your face broke the spell and your heart thudded to a stop at your boyfriend's next words.

"Unless you were planning on following him out? You didn't hesitate, did you? What did he say? How long was he here before you finally called for me?" His gruff voice was a low growl. His fingertips dug into your jaw muscles painfully and you gently grabbed at his wrist to hopefully alleviate some of his nerves.

"N-nothing! He was only here for a few seconds, I promise!" Your voice was quivering, you were trying hard to reassure François. But you worried it would not be enough.

"And what now? You're going to try and leave after this, aren't you?" He growled, the cold barrel of his pistole was being pressed against your chest, right over your heart.

"F-François! No, no I want to stay with you, I love you." You pleaded with him, panic rising in your chest. If you died, you'd never see him again. To you, that would truly be hell. "I-I'm glad that Oliver is dead, now you don't have to deal with him trying to steal me." You reasoned, hoping desperately that your words would reach the other.

The barrel of the gun lowered, and with it your panic. When the gun was pointing to the floor, and François' grip loosened just slightly, you dared to look back into those murky pools of violet.

"Je t'aime, (Y/n)." He whispered, he trailed his bloody thumb over your lips gently, smearing the coppery taste delicately before his lips crashed into yours roughly. The taste of your beloved boyfriend and the sickening tang of Oliver's blood filled your senses. But none of it mattered, not when François finally said he loved you.

.

tout va bien, tu es maintenant en sécurité. : it's alright, you're safe now.

(According to Google translate)

(Hey guys! So if you didn't see my note in the book's description, I am taking requests! Simply leave the name of the 2p, and a possible scenario! If you don't have a scenario thought up, you can just leave the name of the 2p, or visa versa!
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