The wish (francexreader) (untitled)

“Well I think I will stay with…” She started before staring at them all leaving a long pause, eventually giving up on trying to decided seeing as it was too loud. So the (hair-colored) girl sat watching the fight that had broke out about where she was going to stay slightly amused by it. She was about to tiptoe out of the door when suddenly she was surrounded by darkness. All she could hear as she struggled was a strangely obnoxious french laugh. She sighed in defeat when she realized she could not get out of the sack and accepted the fact that she was being carried to what was most likely her doom. After about ten minutes, she was set down on the ground and let out of the bag.
Emerging from the sack she sighed, “If you really wanted me to go to your house that bad you could have just said something instead of kidnapping me.”

“Oui, but that would not have been nearly as much fun.” The blonde replied.
The girl let out a short laugh, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It definitely would not have been nearly as fun or exciting. So, why’d you kidnap me? You won’t rape me right?” (Name) had heard very bad rumors about French people .
France looked very offended, “Non mon amour, Why would you ask such things?!”
She laughed a bit nervously, “I’m sorry I just heard some pretty bad rumors..”
He sighed, “It is fine, but most of us believe that love should not be forced.” (Name) smiled up at him and gave him a hug. He was a bit shocked, but he hugged her back restraining himself from groping the girl.

She let go of him, “You have an interesting house.” The (eyecolor) girl looked around the room she was in, it was decorated in the colors of the french flag. “Your nationalism is very apparent.”
He smiled, very proud of his home, his country, and everything about it. His thoughts grew more perverted as he stood there. Noticing this (Name) decided to interrupt his thoughts.
“So, you kidnapped me. Now what happens?” She was a bit curious about what would happen to her, “Wait, don’t answer that yet. What is your name? I mean Best Friend said your name was France, but you can’t possibly expect me to believe you’re a country right?”
France was caught off guard by this question. “Well, I am a country. The country of France, but my human name, which is what I believe you are referring to, is Francis.” This confused the (haircolor) girl greatly. Humans are not countries. Deciding that they were probably just doing some sort of roleplay, she didn’t press any further instead she introduced herself.
“Well as you already know, I am (name). It’s a pleasure to meet you Francis.” She extended her hand towards him.
He took her hand gently and kissed it lightly causing her to blush. “The pleasure is mine, mon amour.” he purred which in turn only made her blush darken. (name) looked away  in an attempt to hide her red face but he and already saw it. Chuckling softly, he pulled her into his embrace once more. “You look so cute when you blush.” This caused the girl to try and hide her face even more by burying it in his chest.
“Be quiet. I am not cute.” Her muffled voice said in a slightly sad tone. France laughed again.

“And modest too,” He spoke into her hair.
“I am not, Francis. I’m ugly and stupid and immodest.” This was really what she believed about herself since her last boyfriend told her that. Otherwise known as the end of season four.

“Immodest people don’t say things like that about themselves, cherie.” France squeezed her a little.
“They do now. Just admit it. I’m not worth anything. I’m fat, stupid, ugleh…” She was basically just repeating her ex’s words. “What do you even see in me? You could have kidnapped someone else who was better than me, like a hobo.” She whimpered, on the verge of tears. The Frenchman knew what was bothering her, as he had heard those exact words from the show a few seasons back. She always pretended that it didn’t bother her in the show, even to the point of not crying when he had told those things to her face. But, when Francis would watch the show he could see it in her eyes.

“Mon amour, I am going to inform you of something, and you have to listen with an open mind, because I know you don’t believe this yet-” He grabbed her hands and looked her in the eyes, “(Name)....dried rice tastes like dog food. I know, it’s strange, but it’s true.”
“Are you saying I’m dried rice?” She was confused but even sadder than before.

“Non,” He said, still staring at her with the same intensity, “I’m saying I know what dog food tastes like.” Francis couldn’t pinpoint why he was saying such strange things. It felt like some strange force was shoving random words through his mouth. Whatever it was, he just hoped it would wear off. He wanted to tell her how beautiful, smart, kind, modest, and perfect she was.

“Why...what?” (Name) shook her head, “You are the strangest person I have ever met.”

Francis laughed obnoxiously, still not understanding why. She sighed.

“If you need me I’ll be in the garden.” She slipped her hands out of his and walked outside to the garden, unaware of the blond man desperately trying to make his legs run after her, but to no avail.

The moonlight shone down on her as she sat by the roses crying. As she sat there, a certain British man came from nowhere and held her close.

“There there, love. Don’t cry.” He comforted her. She looked up at the man. It was Best Friends brother, Jerk. He stared lovingly into her eyes and wiped away her tears. She didn’t care who it was she was just glad to have comfort. Lightly resting her head on his shoulder she sighed.  

The man lightly kissed her cheek, causing the girl to blush lightly and the Frenchman watching them to get angry.  He still couldn’t move his body or make any sound. That British bastard! He should have known he would have tried to take (name) away from him!

“You shouldn’t have wasted your time on that frog face, love,” Britain said softly to the tearful girl, “He isn’t worth the company of a beauty like yourself.”
The girl blushed and whispered, “T-Thank you.”
He smiled and wiped away the few remaining tears, “May I, love?”
She nodded and he smiled leaning in to kiss her. The Brit knew that when he did the love-spell would also be complete and no one would ever be able to steal (Name) away from him, not even that wine loving frog.
Francis watched in horror, his precious (Name) would be lost forever if he didn’t do something to stop Arthur. He pushed against the grip England’s magic had on his body with all his might, straining every muscle. Slowly, his arms started to budge. He looked up at the two people in the garden, and saw that England had stopped leaning towards his beloved belle and was looking around in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” (Name) asked the man with the bushy eyebrows. England shook his head as if clearing it.

“N-nothing, love,” He said nervously, “I thought I felt something...anyways, where were we? Ah, yes...”

And he leaned in again. By this time, France was able to move his legs in a jagged march towards the garden. The determination was showing on his face.

There was another tug at the back of Arthur’s mind.

“My magic is being overpowered,” He thought. “I need to finish this!” He quickened his pace towards the beautiful face, but a hand grabbed his shoulder and flung him around. There he saw France, glaring at him lividly.

“Bas...tard...” He was able to force the words out of his throat.

England didn’t quite care about what France had to say at the moment. He quickly walked over to (Name) and kissed her gently causing the girl to fall under his spell. (Name) kissed him back hesitantly before breaking the kiss. The British man smiled down softly at the girl.

“(Name), would you please stay at my place with me? I don’t trust the frog you are currently staying with. He’s a professional rapist.”

A surge of anger shot through the Frenchman’s body, a wave powerful enough to break the spell. He was now able to move himself without complications.

“I AM NOT A RAPIST!” He shouted and pulled (Name) in. He kissed her softly yet quickly, eliminating any remaining side effects England’s curse had on his precious belle.

The girl smiled up at Francis sadly and walked over to England.

“Mr. Best Friend’s Jerk Brother, Francis is not a rapist and I will not live with you.” (Name) scolded, “It is extremely impolite to use black magic to take over someone’s body and force them to love you. For shame, sir. For shame. I will give you one thing though, you’re pretty good at kissing.” She added the last part with a blush. England shot a smug glance at his rival, which was answered with a scowl.

(Name) lightly kissed the Englishman’s cheek, “Goodnight.”
He sighed and hugged her, “Goodnight love.”

--

When France and (Name) reached the house, they went into the living room and sat on the couch together. After a few seconds, (Name) got thirsty.

“Can I have some water?” She asked the blond man.

“Oui, there’s some bottled water in the refrigerator in the kitchen, cherie.” He replied. She got up and made her way to the other room. When she opened the fridge door, she was surprised to find a red, oval shaped pane of light instead of what people normally find in their refrigerators. She recognized this as the same portal that had taken her to this world. She saw a wavering picture of her favorite chair at home. She hesitated. Should she go through? No, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t just leave Francis like that. She backed up and closed the door, there was nothing left for her there anyways.

She walked back into the living room and sat by Francis and was cuddled up next to him. He smiled down at her as she yawned.
Kissing her lightly he said, “Get some rest, mon amour.”....
She snuggled up closer to him and fell asleep.