Hetalia Reader Inserts 2

*France x Dermatilliomaniac!Reader: Beauty

France x Dermatiliomaniac!Reader: Beauty

Dermatiliomania is the obsessive picking of blemishes or bumps on the skin, failed attempts at quitng, and often resulting in nasty-looking scabs and round scars.
It can be a result of OCD or acne, and can be a form of stress, anxiety or boredom relief.
I have this, and thankfully have not been the subject of bullying, but know the mental struggle of feeling ugly and hideous when I can't control myself and pick at my skin.
You all are beautiful, please love yourselves. 💞

❤

    Staring in the bathroom mirror, you looked over your naked body. Little round scabs and pale scars dotted your face, neck, back and shoulders, ranging from as small as a needle eye to as big as a pencil eraser.

    With a sigh, you got dressed, and trudged your way to your room. Picking up your phone you turned on the screen and went to your contacts, tapping on the one named Francis Bonnefoy. You silently waited as the line rang.

    "Hello?" came a French accent from phone receiver.

    "Hey, Francis?" you said. "I don't think I'm gonna be able to go tonight..."

    "Aw, why not? Are you not feeling well?" Francis asked, sounding concerned.

    "No, I'm fine, I just... Don't feel like I'm up to going out tonight. Can we reschedule?"

    "(Name), you can't reschedule a fireworks show."

    "I know, I'm sorry, I just..." You sighed. "I'm sorry. Maybe we can go out another night?"

    "I'm coming over."

    "W-wait, Francis, no--" You stopped when the line went dead. You groaned and said, "Gosh dang it, you stupid French fry."

    Quickly you applied some make up to cover your face with, and ran downstairs to open the door when the bell rang.

    "Good evening," Francis greeted. "You look nice."

    "Thanks," you mumbled, stepping back for the Frenchman to enter.

    You got the both of you a soda, and sat down in the living room across from Francis.

    "So," he began, setting his drink down on the coffee table. "Tell me what this cancelling business is all about?"

    "Well first off it's none of your business," you started, staring down at the soda can in your hands. "Second off, I already told you; I just don't feel like going out tonight."

    "You put on a lot of makeup," Francis said softly. You looked up to see him leaning towards you, eyes scrunched up in concentration. "Looks like it was in a hurry, too."

    "Whaaaat?" you said, voice higher than normal in panic. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

    "(Name), what's wrong?" Francis asked, sighing as he leaned back into his seat. "You've always been a terrible liar, so just come on and spill the tea."

    "Francis," you giggled, trying not to snort in laughter, "tea is for gossip."

    "Oh, whoops," Francis said, chuckling with a small smile. "Well, you know what I meant, oui?"