World History for Dummies (Hetalia Fanfictions)

Collection of my Hetalia x Reader one-shots and short stories(multiple part).
Requests are open.
Red for some of the chapters.

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3. Eine kleine Nachtmusik

[ You are a micronation on the South-German border, your state existing vaguely up until around the start of World War II ]

 

You were there. You saw everything, the hushed exchange of words, the gazes and giggles, the touches what reached place friends' never should, the kisses... Even if your eyes haven't travelled to the neighbouring house to see what was going on, you were perfectly aware of it; every scream of his name, every call of her lover's reached inside the house even through closed windows. You tried blocking it out with music or anything but the image of your friend's broken and tear stained face kept haunting you. Even if you haven't seen that as he still had no idea of it. You didn't want to be the bringer of betrayal but you were afraid that he would suffer more if he finds out it late, acting for God knows how long as loving as he now did. You were just as angry at yourself as mad you were at her. She ruined your friend whether on purpose or accident but she did. You let your imagination play with the thought of 'what if'. What if she was married to the man now her lover, would she still walk around, looking for someone else. Or was she only unhappy with her current marriage. You quickly got rid of the thought, not as if it mattered now that things were said and done.

Her lover was supposed to drive you to the meeting as you were neighbours and you haven't got a car. You were standing on the pavement, impatiently waiting for the albino to roll in front of you with his car. You got in reluctant, too sure about the fact that the vehicle saw their betrayal too. You kept silent during the whole ride even if the loudmouth tried to strike up conversations. You weren't in the mood to chat, especially not with the likes of him. He didn't seem to be actually bothered by your stubborn silence but you couldn't care less if he was.

You sprang out of the car as fast as your numb legs let once the car came to a halt at the building. You walked away from him, from the sins and sorrow and entered the building without any concern of manners and a thank you for him. You saw her walk hand in hand with him, the snake fluttering her lashes as the purest child should be allowed only. You walked past them without greetings, afraid that you'd say more than you should. You were already irking to leave the place, knowing that the meeting wouldn't consist of anything but signing treaties and agreements. At least definitely shorter than an attempted meeting with things to discuss. You were scribbling your name on the papers with different proximities to the either of theirs. You witnessed it again, those sinful looks and he even dared to wrap an arm around her at one point. This was the point where you decided to confront her after the meeting.

You were waiting outside the conference room, tapping your foot against the floor tensely. "Here you are, you git," you said in a shriek-like way, pushing the girl against the nearest column. Just before you could punch her in the jaw or rain a sea of swears at her you were peeled off of the scared nation, truly unusual of her. A gentle pair of arms were holding you down with a surprising strength. "Calm down, [name]," your friend said from behind you, holding you more tightly against his chest. "Let me go! How can you still protect that snake after what she did to you?!" your shrieking quieted down to furious huffing and you were glaring daggers at her. "But don't you know the date? And what we just signed?" she asked gloating, her eyes shining with malice. "Or such a small nation as you are is too overwhelmed by this all?" she kept on sneering, now swinging her arm around her lover. All the while her lover was just smirking with the same malice. "It's the 4th of June, 1920.," you said, the moment it left your lips you realised. "You are no longer married," you mumbled looking down with a mixture of emotions; shame, relief, anger and hope. "But you were still married last weekend, and the month prior to that," you seethed, determined to make her look bad. "Not since the signing of ceasefire," she replied, smiling triumphantly. "Just for your information, you were married. Separated maybe, but not divorced," you spat before turning away, dragging your freshly divorced friend with you.

You were sitting in a cafè, a piece of untouched cake laid on a plate in front of you. You were still angry at how nonchalantly she handled the situation and startled by how calm your friend endured it. "Eat it, [name]. The Sachertorte is the best at this place," he said, smiling lightly at you, his violet orbs scanning you from behind glasses. "I'm going to move away," you stated, breaking a bit down from the cake and lifting it to your lips with the fork. "But where to?" he asked, knowing that you were pretty attached to your current home. "Somewhere quiet. And this really is good," you replied, a small smile finally appearing on your face. "Maybe I should move out too," he pondered while you finished the cake with an unladylike rapidity. "Don't be silly. Where would you find another residence fit for a nation like you. Especially one with a small concert hall," you countered, a dreamy sigh leaving your lips at the memory of hearing him play for the first time. "Now that Feliciano is back to live with his brother it will be really lonely for just myself," he said, not actually suggesting a thing but you still got the smallest of hints. "And what if you'd got a new housemate? Would you still want to move away?" you asked, curiosity and mischief glinting in your eyes. He wondered silently for a moment, sure the memories could cause pain. "That depends on who you recommend," he answered clearly not picking up the hint but his adorable naivety was one of the things you liked in him. "Let's see. Who do I know about to plan moving? Oh wait, I got it. Me," you said with a light giggle, eyes boring into his. "Are you sure?" You only nodded with a happy smile that he didn't refused you straight away.

You moved in to the pianist's house within the next few days. You already sold your old home, it was in a beautiful neighbourhood, it wasn't too surprising. Especially that you sold it a bit under its actually price. The money you got was added to your savings as your friend didn't want to hear about you paying him for living there. You couldn't really argue with him, his home his rules. Not as if there were so many other rules. Only two; no touching of his musical instruments without permission and no mention of his ex-wife. The first was harder to keep than the latter. The best part of moving there apart from being able to spend more time with your closest friend was that you could hear him play every day. You loved music and above all the way he played, the way his fingers brushed against the keys on the piano, his calm and peaceful face which held a genuine smile with every note escaping perfectly from the violin. But you were also a bit jealous, playing on any indtrument still got more attention than you did, and even if you were aware that this might occur, it still didn't feel good.

You were all dressed up and ready to leave one afternoon to go and meet with Lille when your friend stopped you. "You can't leave today," he said in a desperate way rather than ordering. You raised an eyebrow confused, since when could he forbid you to do whatever you liked. "[name], you can't leave me, out of all days tonight," he sounded almost begging to you. It was another evening when he held a concert and you didn't like the crowd so you usually left the house those nights. "You can't leave when I already promised to Richard Strauss that he'll hear the most beautiful voice sing tonight," he said, looking away ashamed, his voice apologizing.  "Who? The Richard Strauss? Wait, when did I agree to sing?" you asked terrified when you realised he was talking about you. "Now?" he asked hopefully, a rare smile what wasn't for music appearing on his face. "But I ...Lille..." you mumbled shocked. There was no way you could sing in front of that many people not to mention his songs were purely instrumental. "Basch and Lille are coming over, too," he said, robbing you from your only reason of rejection. "And what am I supposed to sing?" you asked, giving in to him, heading back to the inside of the house. "What you always do, what you improvised and perfected through the days and weeks. Don't think I can't hear when you sing," he said, the smile faltering slightly but only because of his nervousness. You felt proud but shy about it; you never meant him to hear the lyrics you made up when doing chores.

You were fidgeting with your fingers anxiously, standing side by side with your musician friend. "Don't worry, [name]. I know you will be wonderful and lovely as always," he said, an encouraging smile playing at the corner of his lips. "If you say so," you replied sheepishly, holding up the gown you wore to avoid tripping over. He escorted you out to the small stage his piano stood on. "Damen und Herren. Please welcome the charming lady [full name] who was kind enough and agreed to let you all hear her angelic voice." His introduction was followed by a brief but cheering wave of claps, making you flustered if you weren't already. He played quite a few songs, to many of them you sang, sometimes improvising on the spot, for some singing the lines you always did. It was an exciting and intoxicating feeling, standing next to the piano of the man you could never live without, smiling happily at him when not singing.

The concert was a success and the great Strauss came to congratulate both of you in person. You were too drunk on praises and joy that you failed to catch the glares your friend sent to any man looking at you in a nonprofessional way and you just faintly registered his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. "You should sing with me more often," he said, hot breath hitting your neck and ear, meaning that his face was closer than the appropriate distance would be. For a long time after that you haven't seen him during the night except for the occasional glances you had at the reception you also held. "[name], you were so fantastic," Lille mused once she found you. You were about to oppose when her next sentence made you freeze. "You're adorable together. Since when are you two dating?" her childish naivety making her imagine things. "No, Lille. We're not a couple," you said quickly, blushing from the thought of it. "But even big brother says you look nice," she added, topping your shock. What? The always reserved and quiet Basch thinking that you're a couple with your best friend was incomprehensible for you. "We really are not," you protested in vain.

Fortunately another of the guests walked up to the pair of you, cutting off Lille from making another remark. You chatted politely with the person, then with another and another and many more. "So here you are," your friend said from behind you, placing a hand on your hip. There was not many guests now, most people already left. You tried to step away from his hold but he pulled you against himself. "Stay with me. I want you with me. I want you close to me, feel your every bit under my fingers," he hushed in a slightly slurred voice. "Stop it. You are drunk," you said, tearing yourself from his grip. "I'm not. I want you with me tonight," he muttered loud enough for you to hear. "No. Even if I wanted to I'd have to decline. Did you forget that Lille and Basch are spending the night here? I wouldn't want to anger him," you said, the argument closed from your part. "Go and sleep," you ordered, accepting the fate of you seeing off the guests. "But come and sleep with me," he whined like a child, making you wonder how could he be related to Ludwig, even if remotely. You locked the door after the last person left, leaving you to be the only one awake. You went to bed with a multitude of images and thoughts running through your mind, all connected to one single person.

You woke up pretty tired the next morning. You went to bed much later than you usually do and woke up with the first light of morning as always, not to mention the bothersome dreams about your pianist friend. You laid in bed for hours, unable to fall back asleep. 'If he could only tell me that he wants to be with me when not drunk,' you thought while making coffees for the two of you. You found a note telling that Basch and Lille had left already. "I'm not drunk and I still want you, Liebling," you didn't even hear him walk into the kitchen, you were so lost in thoughts about him. You realised last night, after so many people called you a couple that you loved him for a long-long time but you never admitted it to yourself in fear of your friendship meeting its end. And yesterday you refused not only because you had guests for the night but because you weren't sure if he really loved and wanted you or just saw the replacement of his ex-wife in you. "And why do you want me?" you asked not being able to do anything else, being trapped with your back facing him, his hands resting on the counter on your sides. "Because I love you. I loved you ever since I met you, even throughout the years I was married to that poor excuse of a woman. I never loved and never wanted anyone else but you," he whispered, pressing his lips to the back of your neck after every couple of words. You blushed from his words and blushed even more from his actions. "I...I love you, too," you breathed, deeming all fancy word unnecessary.

He turned you around, closing you into a tight embrace, his lips brushing against yours softly, the surface of his lenses cooling down your burning cheeks. When you pulled away you got off his glasses, placing it onto a farther part of the counter with care. You snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, a bit more intense than the previous one. His hands shifted on your hips, his thumbs dangerously close to wander underneath the rim of your pajama pants. His lips left yours with a trail of kisses along your jawbone up to your ear, then down your neck, searching for your sensitive spot. Once he found and marked it light as to find it easier again, he repeated the process on the other side but reversed, his lips moving back to yours. All the while you stood there shuddering and breathing heavily, a soft moan escaping time by time. This time not only his lips made contact with your slightly parted ones but his tongue, gently asking for permission to reach more of you. You parted them a bit more, your hands moving into his hair in synchrony with his tongue sliding past your lips. You didn't even fight for dominance as you were already melting under his touches on your bare stomach and back, all your remaining consciousness concentrated on holding you up in a standing position.

You pulled away, your palms on his chest increasing the distance between you. You smiled at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes, and taking his hand you started out of the kitchen, with the nearest bedroom being the set destination. You saw from the corner of your eye that he was reaching for his glasses. "Don't. I love you without them maybe even more." He pulled his hand back, wrapping it around the one with what you were holding his other already. You cupped his face and gave a teasing peck on his lips once you were in the safety of the room. You turned away with a cheeky grin and was about to step away when an arm in front of your stomach stopped you. "Nein, Fräulein," he whispered and nipped at your earlobe while his other hand was moving up under your top, the light brushing touch of his hand almost tickling you.

 

You were shifting from one foot to another nervously, standing side by side with the pianist who was now your fiance in secret. "I see you are in a fitter shape," Ludwig noted, training filling his mind most of the time. "Yes, [name] got me to exercise," he replied and you blushed slightly, having the perfect idea of what he called 'exercise'. "But you are certainly not here because of that," Ludwig said, basically imploring for any of you to blurt out the reason of your visit. "We want you to escort [name] to the altar," your fiance explained, his hand squeezing yours. It caught him off guard, it was written all over his face. "As in at a wedding ceremony?" Ludwig asked, confused so uncharacteristically from him. "Yes. And I'm sure you are the best person for it," you said, your hope of saying yes slowly sneaking away. "Ja, I can do that," he agreed finally. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," you repeated and hugged him, throwing him even more off guard.

 

"You may kiss the bride," Arthur said who agreed to conduct the ceremony. You threw your arms around his neck, your left hand clutching the bouquet still. The kiss was like none before, filled with overpowering love and the eternal promise of staying by your side forever.

And this is the end of the story of how the country of [micronation's name] disappeared from the maps of today and how [name] became Frau Edelstein.

 

 

Just married.

The End.

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