Hetalia Reader Inserts 2

Yandere!2P Italy x Reader (Pt. 2)

  "You're not eating again," Luciano said irritably. "You need to eat, (Name), or you'll get sick."

    "I'm sorry," you murmur. "I just am not very hungry..."

    "You've said that for the last three days, (Name)," Luciano growled.

    "I know, but I just can't eat. I have no appetite. The thought of food makes me feel sick."

    "Hm. Well, you still need to eat." Luciano set down his fork and pushed back his chair before standing up and making his way towards you.

    Oh no, you thought. He's going to feed me again. I hate it when he does that. He scolds me for being messy when it's his fault, and he won't let me go until he's satisfied with how much I've eaten.

    Luciano pulled your seat back and turned it towards him. Next he kneeled down in front of you, and gently got a forkful of pasta to feed you.

    Don't they eat anything else besides pasta and pizza? I'm tired of eating the same things every day!

    "Open up, cara," commanded Luciano. With a sigh, you obeyed. "That's my good girl! See, doesn't the food taste yummy?"

    Just eat it. He'll stop eventually. I hope I don't throw up...

    "I dislike that look in your eyes," Luciano said as he fed you another forkful. "You look distant and hopeless."

    "I feel hopeless," you whimpered after you swallowed your mouthful. "I'm not happy here. I want to go home, Mr. Vargas."

    "How many times must I tell you?" Luciano sighed as he motioned for you to open your mouth for another bite by gently poking the air with the fork towards your face. "It's Luciano. There is no need for formalities."

    "I prefer to call you by your last name," you said before taking the fork in your mouth and eating the pasta.

    "I see," the Italian said flatly, preparing another bite for you. "Well, then I'll just have to create some more entertainment for you since you dislike it here. What would you like to see or do?"

    "I don't want entertainment!" you replied, mouth full of half-chewed pasta. "I want to go home!"

    "Don't talk with your mouth full," growled Luciano. "It's disgusting. And you cannot go home. You live with me, Flavio and Andres now."

    You swallowed your mouthful and said, "But I'm unhappy living here. I feel like a prisoner. I can't go anywhere or do anything by myself!"

    "So . . . what you want is alone time and more freedom?" Luciano asked, feeding you another bite.

    You nodded, trying not to gag at the taste of the food hitting your tongue. I can't eat much more . . . I'm too full. The sauce tastes like pure, minced tomatoes rather than pasta sauce, and the meatballs taste like rotting flesh.

    "If you had to choose one, which would it be?" Luciano wondered. "Freedom, or alone time?"

    "Freedom," you replied, refusing the bite Luciano was trying to shove in your mouth.

    "You've got to eat!" the Italian said angrily, about ready to grip your jaw and force the pasta passed your lips.

    "I can't eat anymore!" you cried, turning your head away from the fork whenever it was brought to your lips, just like a child refusing its least favorite food. "I'm full! Any more and I'll throw up! Please stop!"