CIRL FrancexReader

You huddled under your blankets and wondered why you kept doing this to yourself. "This" being playing creepy video games late into the night and not being able to sleep because of it. It's like you wanted to worsen your mild fear of the dark. And this particular evening was especially horrible because there was a very bad thunderstorm going on outside. The lightning flashes illuminated your room and cast creepy shadows on your walls.

"I am never playing that game again," you muttered to yourself, certain you would listen to yourself this time. As anther thunder crash shook your house, you squeaked and dived further into your sheets, hoping that some crazy monster hadn't decided to suddenly exist and run amok in your home.

The rational part of you felt extremely silly for still being afraid like this, but the imaginative part of you couldn't stop coming up with crazy creatures that could be lurking everywhere. It kept turning every little noise you heard into the result of some gross, disgusting thing moving around the apartment. And right now, you hated the imaginative part.

That was when something decided to fall over in your room. You froze, barely even breathing, and listened with all of your might. When there was only silence for several moments, you began to shakily let out a breath that turned into a scream when you heard shuffling and muttering coming up from the floor.

It wasn't the wisest choice you'd ever made, but you were basically functioning on adrenaline.

Not even thinking clearly, you flung yourself over where you thought the intruder was and, once you felt them under you, started wrapping them up in your bed sheets. Whatever this thing was, it was putting up one hell of a fight. But you weren't going to let that stop you. You grabbed a heavy textbook from your desk and swung it at what you thought was the head.

You must've been right because once the book made contact, the thing slumped over and didn't move. You could hear its breathing, so you didn't have to worry about accidentally becoming a murderer.

Moving cautiously, you gently peeled away your blankets to get a look at the thing that had invaded your home.

You choked out a gasp and fell back from the now revealed person on your floor.

"Shit," you muttered, reaching forward to turn the person's face towards you. This was impossible. He shouldn't even exist, let alone be in your house.

The human personification of France was lying, knocked out cold, on your bedroom floor. What a way to forget your previous fears.

Rubbing a hand across your face, you got up and completely removed your sheets from him. Once that was done, you hoisted him up and set him on your bed. You were in the middle of debating between splashing water on him or slapping him when he started groaning and moving around.

France sat up and held a hand to his head. He had no idea why it hurt so much. He didn't remember drinking any alcohol, so he couldn't have a hangover.

You watched as France slowly came to and realized he wasn't anywhere familiar. When he turned and looked at you, you offered a sheepish smile.

"Uh…sorry I hit you on the head." What a first impression. France rubbed the back of his head and narrowed his eyes a little.

"Why would you do that?" You blushed, thinking now that your reaction probably wasn't the best.

"I was, uh, kind of scared because of a game I was playing and you just kind of…appeared out of nowhere in my room."

"Do you know where I am?"

"In my house." He gave you a look that clearly said he knew that much and meant something else. You sighed and plopped down on the bed next to him.

"In another world. Is that a better answer?" He nodded and placed a hand on his chin, seemingly in deep thought. You sat and waited for him to get his thoughts together.

"I guess England really meant that last threat zen."

"So…you're not gonna freak out or anything?" He shook his head and started looking around your room.

"Non. I 'ave always known something like zis would 'appen. England and I fight too much for it not to. So tell me. Do you know who I am?"

"Yeah. You're France. You're part of a show called Hetalia here."

"Ah, 'etalia? Interesting. I never would 'ave guessed. What is your name, ma chérie?"

"(Full Name)." France took your hand and kissed the back of it.

"What a lovely name. You may call me Francis, if you like." You twisted your hand to turn his romantic gesture into a handshake.

"Nice to meet you." He winked and grinned at you.

"Ze pleasure is all mine."


--Timeskip—


You screamed at your laptop screen as another Grunt popped up out of nowhere and started chasing you around the dark room you'd currently been occupying. Mashing your buttons furiously, you tried your best to get away, ultimately deciding to pause the game and take a breather.

You'd just fallen back onto your bed when Francis walked into your room. He'd lived with you ever since he'd first shown up in your world and after six months, you didn't think he'd be leaving anytime soon. But you'd slowly grown to love the French man, so each day that he was still around only made you happier.

Glancing over at him, you scowled at the smirk he was wearing. He knew of your bad habit of playing horror games even though they scared you to death and made you more afraid of the dark, and teased you quite a bit about it.

"Is that still Amnesia you are playing?" You nodded and moved over so he could sit next to you. Pulling yourself back up, you placed your computer on his lap and began explaining the controls to him. Once you were done, you prompted him to start playing where you left off. Giving you a skeptical look, he unpaused the game and immediately shrieked when he realized what situation you'd left him in. The laughter you'd been making at his expense quickly turned to hyperventilating as you watched Francis make his way through different areas.

The two of you stayed in your spots for well over an hour, shrieking at the screen and at each other whenever a Grunt or Brute came into your lines of sight. Whenever there was a lull, you would slump against Francis's shoulder, only to start shaking him back and forth when you spotted something.

It was nearing midnight when you both finally had enough and shut off the game. Your hands shook slightly as you put your laptop back on your desk before collapsing onto your bed, next to where Francis lay. You glanced at each other before bursting into laughter at your silliness.

Without thinking, you moved closer to your housemate and rested your head on his chest. His hand lazily made its way to your hair and began running its fingers over your scalp. You sighed happily and laid your own hand next to your face.

Of course, it was only when you were drifting off to sleep that you realized the position you were in. Your head jerked up and you stared at Francis.

"Something wrong, ma chérie?" You leaned on your elbow and looked at him in confusion.

"You don't feel awkward about how we were just laying here together?"

"Why would I? I was comfortable. Weren't you?" You blushed and hesitantly nodded.

"Well zen, zere is no problem with it," he said, gently cradling the back of your head and bringing it to his chest again. You sighed through your nose but gave in and cuddled back up to him.

"Francis?"

"Oui?"

"Will…will you stay with me tonight? I don't want to be alone in the dark."

"I will stay with you as long as you'd like." Feeling like there was an added meaning to his sentence, you looked up at him to see a soft smile on his face. You blushed again as he angled his head to kiss your forehead.

"Je t'aime, (Name)."

"I love you too, Francis," you said, snuggling into him.

"You will never have to fear the dark again."