Hetalia: Country x Reader One-Shots

A Lesson In Romantics {France}

A Lesson in Romantics

(France x Reader)

The comforting aroma of soft rose petals wrapped around your body, filling your nose with the wonderful scent of spring and the morning dew. Your soft (S/C) fingers brushed against the silky petals, moistening a bit from the morning condensation. 

You were in the Courtyard situated next to your high school. It was your lunch period now, and you always spent it out here. The welcoming warmth of the entire yard and the wonderful scents eminating from the various plants brought a feeling of tranquility within you, destressing you after a long day of work. You liked to come here after school ended, before you had to walk home. Sometimes you would stay here until it got dark, doing your homework and occassionally sketching the scenery, painting the picturesque scenery onto the pages of your notebook. You thought maybe the worst part of graduating this school would be saying goodbye to this beautiful Courtyard.

You twirled the stem of a rose between your fingertips, wary of the thorns. With a small pluck it detached itself from the bush and lay limp in your palm. You brought the rosy red petals to your face, inhaling the lush scent of grass and a smell indigenous to this plant. It was just so wonderful, so...

"Beautiful, non?" A voice said and you jumped, dropping the rose onto the grassy floor in shock. You turned your head rapidly, (H/C) locks twirling around due to the motion. You breathe a sigh of relief when you notice it was simply Francis Bonnefoy, your class' notorious flirt. Rolling your eyes, you bent down to retrieve the rose when a hand shot out and took it from your grasp, your fingers brushing against theirs for just the amount of time allowed for tingles to shoot up your arm. You erected yourself to see Francis smiling at you, the flower dancing within his clutches. You sighed.

"May I please have that?" You asked, hardly masking the threatening undertone. Francis had never attempted to flirt with you, and you wanted to keep it that way. He was only trouble, as all the girls with basic common knowledge knew.

"You'll have to steal it from me. The same way you stole my heart, ma cherie" he said and you almost gagged at the cheesy pickup line.

"Skip the romantics and just give me the rose," You said, growing bored of his flirtacious personality. You didn't understand what most girls liked about it. His azure eyes searched your (E/C) ones for a moment, trying to find some hidden undertone. Seeing you were immune to his tricks, he extended his hand, the rose in his hand.

"A rose for the rosé, I suppose" he said with a wink. You simply rolle your eyes, too annoyed to retort. You extended your hand and plucked the rose from his grasp. You could feel the warmth from his hands still lingering on the rose, having not yet abandoned the lingering feeling of its former owner.

"Well, seeing as you're obviously occupying this area, I suppose I'll go over there" you say, turning on your heel to delve deeper into the rows of flora that lined the Courtyard path.

A large hand snaked out and grasped your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. "What is wrong, ma cherie? You cannot even stay to chat?" He asked and you sighed, keeping your back facing him.

"I'm not some girl you can woo, Francis. I can't quite comprehend why you're so persistant" You say with an exhausted sigh. Francis' grip tightened and you felt your foot lose their ground as you were pulled backwards, spinning slightly and finding yourself in the Frenchman's warm embrace. Your face flushed, eyes widened to an impossible length. His grip on you was strong and you knew attempts at escaping would prove futile.

"My goal is not simply to woo you, (Y/N)" He drawled, stretching your name slightly. It rolled off his tongue nicely, the hint of his French accent giving it the perfect feel. And suddenly you realized why so many girls swooned over him. He was smooth, too smooth for your own good.

"And besides, such beauty should not go unnoticed. I admire you the way you admire those roses," He says. His grip loosened before he captured one of your hands in one ofhis, feeling the calloused contours of his skin. His other hand moved to the small of your back as he moved you to you were dipped backwards, arching towards the green grass. He was leaning towards your face, his warm breath caressing your face. Instead of the sickeningly unheigenic scent most boys' breaths carried, his was minty, and you could almost taste the lingering French cuisine.

"I don't know what you're talking about" You breathed courageously, refusing to give in. His platinum blonde locks fell in front of his face, floating centimeters above your long eyelashes. He smiled before he laughed, the melodious sound resounding in the air and ringing in your ears.

"I see you everyday (Y/N). You always come here, now and after school. I have to admit, roses are quite beautiful. They are so... romantic, oui?" He said. Red tinted your cheeks at his words. He saw you? You always thought you were alone. But you couldn't deny that at times you felt as if someone were watching you, admiring you from afar. It couldn't be the man standing above you, holding you mere inches above the ground, could it?

"H-how do you know that?" You say, cursing yourself under your breath for stuttering. You couldn't show weakness, especially in front of a predator like the one looming so near.

Francis lifted you back to an upright position, releasing his grip on you. You used that chance to take a step back, adding distance between your bodies.

"I used to come here all the time. It's so peaceful here. It was a nice reprieve from the school life. My friends, the girls, the work. It was calming, non? Zhat was last year, when we were just juniors. I planned to come back here again this year, but then I noticed someone else among the fleurs. I recognized you immediately. I mean, who couldn't identify your gleaming (H/C) hair and vibrant (E/C) eyes. I never really noticed you until this year, and I don't think many other people have either. But seeing you here, looking like you belonging right here, I couldn't push you out. I had never seen you, or anyone really, so expressive and in-place. I've always wanted to talk to you, but you never seemed to pay me any heed like zhose other girls. i wantd to take a chance today, maybe get to know you better." He said. When he finished,, you stared at him with wide eyes. You doubted such a man like Francis Bonnefoy could be so... intimate? Or maybe so fragile, admitting something that seemed so out of character, yet so... him. You knew something like this couldn't be faked, just the way he sounded so sincere with his words. How he practically poured his heart out to you right there. 

You smiled, stepping forward and gripping his hands in yours. He turned to look at you, blue eyes wideneed and a rosy blush filling his cheeks. You smiled up at him.

"I don't think I've ever met someone with such an allure for this kind of beauty. It's a nice change" You say with a kind smile. He smiles in return, leaning in so he was your level.

"There are some things more beautiful than zhis Courtyard and zhese roses, you know" he says and you tilt your head in confusion.

"Like what?" you ask curiously.

He smiles, lips brushing gingerly against yours. "You," he purrs before he fully connects your lips. The skin is soft, yet firm as he kissed you in a way that sent chills up your spine and allowed your heart to palpitate in odd reverberations, fluttering rapidly from the close contact. You wasted no time kissing him back, opening your mouth to allow the kind of kiss Francis' country knew best. 

And as you pulled away, your breathes mixing together and your breathing in sync, you could hear his soft whisper agains the fluttering wind.

"Je t'aime, ma rose,"

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A/N: quick quick, gotta post!

Anyways, here's the first one shot! They won't be in the order I wrote them, so some later chapters may have poor grammar/vocab because I wrote them earlier. I'll try to replace them with better ones :)

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