Hetalia Oneshots (Requests Open)

Austria x Reader

Your pov

It didn't take much to make you happy, just an instrument, more specifically, an electric guitar. You have always had a talent for music and you could play almost any instrument you wanted. You loved to sing and you even started a band in your Freshman year of high school. Your parents didn't want what you were, a punk. They wanted a prim and proper little lady and you just weren't interested. You hated pink, frills, classical music, and anything that had to do with being proper. They gave up on trying to change you on their own so they shipped you off to go live in Austria with some asshole that you didn't even know. The second day you were there, you developed a hatred towards him but, somehow, you also developed a crush, that made you hate him even more.

"Come on (Y/N), you can at lest try to act like a lady," he groaned. He had reached his wits end with you but you didn't care you just wanted your (F/C) guitar back.

"You could at least try to pull the pole out of your ass," you bit back, reaching for the precious object that he held in his hand. He soon placed it on a shelf where you wouldn't be able to reach. "Give it back, shit stain!"

"No, a proper lady wouldn't be acting like such a brat towards the man who takes care of her, she also wouldn't use such foul language," he grumbled, walking into his music room. You glared after him, hoping that he would burst into flames but, to your displeasure, he didn't. That pompous ass thinks he can control me like some damn lap dog, you thought angrily, following him into the music room. He thinks he can treat you like a little kid but you're the same age, god only knows how that works.

"Roddy, how long is it going to take you to figure out that I'm not, nor will I ever be, a proper lady? It's just not who I am!" You snapped. He didn't answer you. He always acted as though he was right and you were wrong, no matter what. "Damn it, Roderich, can't you see it my way for once?"

"Language. Come on now, it's time for you to play piano, you used to be so good at it," he said, staring at nothing like he could see me angrily playing the thing you hated.

"No! I don't want to, I like my guitar. What would you do if I took your piano away like you did with my guitar?" You growled. Sighing, he looked at you with a bored expression.

"At least I play real music," he said.

"You play shitty music, I hate classical!"

"The noise you make on that thing is hardly music." You scoffed angrily. How dare he call your music noise.

"You abuse your poor piano, you sit down here pounding on that thing until the ungodly hours of the morning. It's a true wonder how I haven't come down here and smashed that thing to bits to put it out of it's misery!"

"You should be grateful for that, it's called real music." You tossed your head back with an angry groan.

"I'm so done with you," you hissed at him.

"Is this really about the music (Y/N)?" he asked coldly, "Or is it the fact that you drove your ow parents away by acting the way you do? By being a complete foul up?" Too far, way too far and he knew it. He could never understand how much those words broke you. It was like all the feeling had left your body, you were cold, numb.

"Give me my guitar," you said in an emotionless tone. Surprisingly, he handed it to you. Without any thought, you raised the thing over your head, bringing it violently to the ground. This thing had been with you forever and now, it was being destroyed. It didn't take very long for you to completely destroy it as Austria stood in shock. Right away, you realized what you and just done and you dropped to the ground with a pitiful cry. You felt a curling, stabbing pain in your chest where your heart should have been. You had nothing, no guitar, no parents, nothing. You were nothing.

Austria's pov

(Y/N) loved that thing, why would she just smash it like that. The little burst of anger that she had did not end quickly enough to save the thing. I stared at her big teary (E/C) eyes. I saw the heart break, the pain, the sadness, and all the little cracks in her that she hid behind a very well crafted mask. She pulled her knees to her chest as she sobbed violently.

"You're right. It has nothing to do with music, it's just me. I know I'm not what my parents wanted. I've known forever. Why else would they ship me off to Austria and stay in (country)? I know you hate me and I know I'm worthless, I know that but I don't want other people to know it! I don't want to exist, not even in a suicidal way, I just want to step out of existence, like I was never here, and never come back," she sobbed quietly. What have I done? What kind of man does this to the woman he loves? I'm truly sick for breaking down something so beautiful trying to make it better when it wasn't possible. I knelt down next to her and the shattered remains of her guitar.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," I muttered, looking down at her. Her (S/T) teary cheeks were pressed into her knees and her eyes were turned down towards the remains.

"For what? Telling the truth?" she whispered bitterly into her knees. I put my arm around her. She seemed so delicate, fragile, so unlike herself.

"No, for breaking you down like this. I had no right to try and change the beautiful girl that was brought to me," I said. She picked her head up to stare at me with watery eyes. Her (H/L) hair was messy from her outburst.

"Stop," she mumbled weakly, another tear gliding down her soft cheek.

"Stop what?"

"Stop telling me things that aren't true, stop trying to make me feel better."

"I will if you stop making me fall in love with you." She shook her head and laughed bitterly.

"As if I'd believe that after all of this," she growled. She sounded so weak. I kissed her plump, pink lips and hugged her close.

"I'll say it as many times as it takes. I love you."