Hetalia X Reader One Shots Requests Open

Just a Part of the Job (2p England x Reader)

A/N:  Oh my gods I am so sorry. I just couldn't think of a plot for this request from Dottie14. I have it up now, here it is. I hope you guys like it!

    (Y/n) sat at a table, observng the bright colors of the new bake shop down the road from her apartment. The rent was getting to be too much for her drunk mother, so the (h/c) colored girl felt compelled to try and help. Maybe this place would give her the chance she needed.
     "Anything I can do for you, poppet?" Asked a British accent. The accent belonged to a man with strawberry blonde hair and a cheery grin.
     She quickly stood up. "Oh, yes, um, are you the owner by any chance?"
     "I am. Oliver Kirkland." His smile seemed to grow larger.
      She took a moment to study the man before her. He had the same color scheme of clothing as his shop. Lavender vest, pink shirt, and blue bowtie. Freckles dusted his cheeks. His cheery persona was slightly infectious, giving  (y/n) a sense of hope. "Hello, I was wondering if you might have any work for me...? I'm decent at baking and I really could use a job."
    Oliver's smile fell just slightly. "What's your name, poppet?"
     "Oh, right. That might be important, huh? (Y/f/n) (y/l/n)." She said quickly, trying not to let her hope fall. This was her eleventh try at a job, and considering how small the town was, probably her last.
     He nodded. "Well, I'm sorry to say I really don't have any open positions..."
     All hope drained from her at those words, so similar to all the other times. "Please...?"
     She saw sympathy in his baby blue eyes. "I... well, maybe there is something... it won't pay much, not until I can get a better position for you. I could use a waitress."
    "Yes, I can do that. Anything works for me, thank you so much Mr. Kirkland. I won't let you down, I promise." Excitement went through her at the job.
     Oliver chuckled lightly. "Just Oliver, poppet. Can you start tomorrow morning, say at 8?"
     (Y/n) nodded excitedly. "Whenever you need me Mr- er, Oliver."
     He smiled. "Alright. How about I show you around today, and then you head on home?"
     The (h/c) girl nodded, and followed him behind the counter. He pointed to where each pastery went and where their prices were listed.
      Soon, she had a good idea of where everything was and was sent home. Her excitement soon fell to a contented state as she unlocked the door to her third floor apartment.
     A frown fell on her face when she noticed the empty wine bottles on the coffee table and assorted prescriptions for depression and bipolar disorder. Beside those was a couple dirty dishes. The radio played dully, lulling in and out of static. Her mother lay on the couch, passed out.
     A sigh escaped her as she began to pick up her mother's mess, checking the woman's pulse after a moment. Still strong.
    Once the room was cleaned up, she moved to the old, hand-me down radio and turned it off, annoyed at the static. This seemed to bring her mother out of her unconscious state. "Turn that back on, girl, that was my favorite song."
     "Mom, it was static. No song was playing." The young adult said in exasperation.
     "Are you back talking me?"
     "No, I'm telling you why I turned it off." A sigh. "Did you take your medicine before you passed out?"
      The greying haired woman grumbled under her breath. "Yes, *mother*, I did."
     "Hey, I wouldn't treat you like a child if you didn't act like one, Mom." (Y/n) snapped, sitting down at the dining room table and rubbing her temple. She sighed again, trying to reign in her temper. "I got a job, Mom. Down at that bakery that just opened."
     "Good, now I don't have to lug you along behind me."
      (Y/n) stared at her aging mother in disbelief. "You aren't lugging me along behind you. I turned down a full ride scholarship to help you because you asked me to. Ever since dad killed himself you've been nothing but horrid to me. All you ever do is tear me down while you drink yourself into oblivion and I've just about had it. I'm trying, Mom. That's all I've ever done for the last seven years-"
     Her outrage was cut short by a loud snore. Her mother was passed out, yet again.
      "Unbelievable." She muttered below her breath as she walked into the kitchen to wash dishes. A single drop fell from the faucet, and nothing more. A disgruntled, muffled scream escaped her. "You forgot to pay the water bill again didn't you?"
     The bills on the dining room table answered her question. She went to the laptop a friend had bought her for her birthday and began to pay the bills. While paying the water bill, the lights went out.
     A growl escaped her. "Guess I'm paying the electicity next."
     Her gaze went to her mother who shifted on the couch. Her heart went out to the woman, but (y/n) was just so tired of this. She had been thirteen when she had walked into the room to see her father dead. By all means she should have been the one mentally screwed over, not her mother who had been asleep in their bedroom.
     She shook her head a d finished paying the bills in the glow of her laptop and the fading light of the sun. Once she was done, she shut the machine down, draped a blanket over her mother, and went to bed.