Sweet Nothing: Germany x Reader

Chapter Two: Hello Pasta Guy

I woke up (for the second time in less that two hours) in a bed that was "surprising" not my own (sarcasm). I sat up to see that I was laying under red velvet silk covers. I pulled the covers off of me and sat on the edge of the bed. Please tell me he hasn't.......

I looked down at myself to see if I was still wearing my f/c dress pajamas. A sigh of relief hit me and I fell back down on the bed. I looked up at the ceiling and saw beautiful paintings that were on the wall all around me. Who could have painted these, I wondered to myself. As I pondered on the situation I heard the loud chattering of a voice.

"....And he is making me paint all of these pictures of him and for him and he doesn't give me any good food, to be honest it tastes even worse than British food and honestly I don't think he even knows what pasta is." The voice was getting louder and I knew it was coming to my room. The door opened and I almost screemed thinking it was France. But it wasn't. The person was a boy with sunburnt orange hair and a curl on the left side of it. He wore an all blue suit with a blue tie and brown boots that were trimed with fur.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh," he said with interest and not of fear."So you're _______"

"Um, " I didn't know what to say. Was he an enemy or an ally? Then I just decided even if he was an enemy, he didn't look strong enough to fight yet alone land a scratch on me, so either way I was safe.  "Yeah," I finally said, "that's me."

"Ahhhhhhh," he sighed absent minded. Who was this guy? Wait a second, this is Italy.

"Um, Italy," I began a little shyly.

"Huh?" He asked tuning in to what I was saying.

"How are we going to get out of here?"

"Germany will save us!" He beamed.

"Germany?" I asked a little—No a lot— confused. "I thought Germany was a lonely guy with no friends and just tried to find new ways to kill people."

"No, no!" Italy began in disagreement. "That's Britain." Before Italy could go on, the door flew open. It was France.

"Awwwwwwwwwww!" We both screemed hugging on to each other for dear life.

"Come here so I can thoroughly enjoy you." He sang very creepily. Italy and I began crying.

"I'm too young to young to die." I cried.

"I haven't even eaten pasta today." Italy cried.

"Let me explore you _______" The way he said my name made me want to throw up. Why is France filled with such lust for girls (and boys), I thought to myself as he was closing in on us. When he was about ten inches away, Italy began jabbering on and on about his life.

"Please just leave me alone, I have a family and friends and a secret pasta recipe I can give you if you just let me be! I don't even look good when I'm being beaten up, I tell you it is not funny." three inches. "Please, please!" Two inches.  "Germany!!!" One inch. "GERMANY!" And then he got us.

Well me.

He only wanted me.

He didn't want to hurt Italy.

Only me.

I let out a bone chilling scream when France tackled me on the bed. I slapped him and pushed him off, but he just got back on top of me. After that he decided to pin my arms down (Great)

"Fiesty, aren't you?" He teased with a desired filled smile on his face. He softly nuzzled my neck with his lips and his grip didn't loosen on my arms. "Such soft skin," he said in between kisses.

"Get. Off!" I yelled, but his soft touch only made me blush. Why am I blushing, I mentally slapped myself.

"Germany!  Germany!" It was Italy screaming his lungs off. Suddenly the door swung open.