Dream Girl {England x Reader}

“Take my hand, love. Onward to a better place.”

London, England: The Great Plague. Year: 1665.

The black-death epidemic was killing him.

Though, not literally killing him. He had yet to be infected. For now, he was just so stressed, devastated, and worried to the point where his life felt like a living hell. And hell meant death.

In other words, the bubonic plague- an incurable disease caused by bacteria- was slowly, painfully killing him in a different way than everyone else.

He’d never felt more useless in his entire life.

He tried so hard to protect them. He searched everywhere for an answer.

But in the end, all he could do was stand there and watch the people of his country suffer. The outbreak of the disease was still fairly new, but it had happened in the past and lasted over a hundred years.

Every day, he cried. He watched families bury their own graves. He watched mountains of bodies be tossed into ditches; no loved ones left to give them a proper burial. He watched corpses be cremated, the affected victims’ houses be burned down. The smoke never left the London air.

Ashes, ashes… he watched them all fall down.

Currently, the Great Plague has already killed nearly 100,000 people. A whole 15% percent of his country’s population. And it was still spreading.

Their fingertips were black. Sores covered their skin. The rotting smell of death never left London. They blamed him.

His people. They prayed. Some days he felt there was no hope. This was the end.

He had already dug his parents’ graves with his own two hands. He felt like there was nothing left for him in this world.

But he knew he had to try his best to protect everyone. He had to live—whether he wanted to or not.

~*~

 “Do you want some tea before going to bed?”

“No thank you, or else I won’t be able to sleep,” England began walking up the stairs. “Goodnight, America.”

Young America- about five years old- smiled up at his caretaker. “’Night!”

As England came into his bedroom, he sighed. Sleep was the only thing he had to look forward to in his day. With the exception of seeing America, most of his day was rather… depressing. From dawn till dusk, he searched for a cure. There was nothing else for him to do.

But lately, his nights felt peculiar—

Every single night, he had the exact same dream.

A sweet, wonderful dream that he couldn’t complain about. It was better than having repeated nightmares—which, he realized, probably couldn’t even compare to the nightmare that was already his life.

Though the dream he had every night oddly consisted only of mystical creatures—unicorns, flying bunnies, fairies…

And a princess.

She was the only real-world being in the dream. And every morning, he woke up with her face still fresh in his mind.

Throughout his day, he could never get her out of his head. It was like she stayed with him, encouraging him to keep going.

He thought she was beautiful. She was kind to him—though he had no idea who she was. Neither in his dreams nor reality. He thought maybe he’d glimpsed her once, and then began having the dream. But he didn’t know where he could have seen her, or how she could have ended up in the repeated dreams.

It wasn’t long till he began thinking about her even when she wasn’t previously stuck in his mind. He subconsciously began to search for her everywhere he went, never forgetting to keep an eye out for her every time he went somewhere.

He knew that if one day he found her… he would love her forever.

“Why don’t you look for her, England?” America would ask. “Look all over London!”

To which England would always reply, “I don’t have the time, America…”

But deep down, he wanted to do just that. He wanted to search the world over for this mysterious, beautiful princess.

But for now… she was only a dream.

~*~

 “_____! Quit slacking and get back to work!”

You sighed, and finished tying on a new apron. Your previous one had gotten tea spilled all over it—courtesy of a very clumsy customer, of course.

You went over to a couple who had just been seated, and smiled gently. “Hello. What would you like to order?”

It was safe to say you hated your job. But anyone would—and not just because your boss was the bloodiest person in town.

Ever since the Great Plague began, all trust was lost in Europe. No one came within a six meter radius of a person unless they absolutely had to. And if they had to speak with a stranger, some were even bold enough to ask, ‘Are you feeling well?’.

Common courtesy was instantly lost. No stranger was ever polite anymore—not even to a young waitress.

“Just a scone and some coffee. Same would go for my wife. And hurry it up, too. Make sure no one sneezes in it either, got it?” The man grunted; his face behind a newspaper.

You nodded, and quickly wrote down the order.

“Bloody gits not taking care of themselves—what a joke. It’s no wonder so many have been infected.” He scoffed to himself, slamming down the paper. His wife across from him simply nodded.

You felt the sting of tears in your eyes. How could people look down upon others who have been infected? Didn’t they have any idea what they were going through? Didn’t they understand that it wasn’t their fault they caught the illness?

You walked back behind the counter to retrieve the orders, silently wiping the sides of your eyes. Your own parents and recently your younger brother had already passed due to the plague. Was it so hard for people to show respect for the dead?

You were broken inside from your loss; but, you had decided to keep working. Most people would take months off to mourn the death of their loved ones, but not you.

You wanted to cry for hours on end, lie in bed all day, and reminisce their days of life the way any other person would—but you knew that you had to keep working. Even if you disliked speaking with rude strangers. You had to work to restore their dream.

Before the Great Plague, your family had been working hard to open their very own café. Your mother was one of the best bakers in London, while your father was known for his great finance skills. You and your brother had been eager when your parents mentioned their dream—and agreed to help get together enough money.

Though before their goal was even close to accomplished… it began.

The Great Plague started its sickening killing spree. It left no family unharmed, pinpointed the weakest, and ensured death upon all of the United Kingdom.

You decided you were still going to open up the café. For them. They deserved it.

And for that reason, you continued working in the small restaurant as a waitress. You dealt with your strict boss, the unfriendly co-workers, and rude customers just for your parents’ dream.

As you got behind the counter of the rather tiny morning restaurant, you opened up the box of scones and poured two coffees. I wonder if they ordered so little just to refrain from speaking to me… You wondered in the back of your mind as you held the two coffee mugs in one hand, and the two plates of scones in your other hand and forearm.

You turned to grab a platter; only to see there weren’t any left. Someone had used the last one and hadn’t restocked it yet.

You groaned, and began stepping out of the bar area to retrieve more just as someone walked in the front doors.

Where did they move the platters again? Oh yeah, they’re- you thought as you stepped out from behind the counter.

Your mind was too preoccupied with other things to notice the person walking in. –right over here-

Just as you looked up, you bumped right into someone. The coffee mugs in your right hand fell to the ground, making a loud crash. The plate balancing on your forearm slipped off, adding to the shattering noise.

You gasped, and turned bright red. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” You apologized as you eyed the floor; mortified of what you’d done.

You immediately got down on your knees and began picking up the large pieces of broken china; already worrying of your boss yelling at you afterwards.

After a few seconds, you felt a presence beside you. The person had got down on the floor with you, helping to pick up the pieces.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” You looked up, and instantly blushed again.

Because the person you’d ran into was staring directly at you.

“Oh! Um, I-I’m sorry, again…” You stuttered, and broke off eye contact.

You had been expecting him to be looking down at the floor just like you had previously been—picking up the pieces. But instead, he was watching you intently. He still tried to help, though his attention was much more on you.

And you couldn’t help but notice—he had the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen. His messy blonde hair framed his face perfectly, and his features were innocent and gentle.

Your cheeks burned even more when you turned and realized he was still staring directly at your face; an awestruck expression on his own.

“N-No, I’m sorry…” He sputtered after a few seconds, “I was just being careless…”

He seemed to break out of his trance, and you smiled. “It’s okay. I wasn’t paying attention either,” You noticed a pink blush make its way to his cheeks, and you felt your smile turn into a grin. “Thanks for helping. But you really didn’t have to...”

You finished picking up the pieces, and got up to throw them away. He followed and did the same, still watching you closely.

“Love, what is your name?” He asked politely, surprising you a bit.

No stranger had asked your name for a long time. “_____.” You responded; giving him a small smile as you began leading him to a table.

“I’m England. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He smiled back, “If it’s your break soon, care to sit with me for a while?”

You stopped, and not just because you’d reached his table. A complete stranger had just asked you to sit with him? Wasn’t he worried about getting sick like everyone else?

As he sat down, you tried to hide your surprise. “Oh… well, I just had my break actually…”

He pouted a bit, which somehow looked kind of adorable. “Aw… that’s too bad.”

Your eyes widened in realization. Is he… hitting on me? You wondered to yourself. No way. I must be imagining things… “What would you like to order?”

“Just some tea would be fine,” He looked back up at you, his intense green eyes practically burning a hole in your face.

Why has he been watching me so closely? I can’t be that interesting! You panicked a bit, not used to so much attention.

He smiled gently, resting his elbows on the table. “You’re quite lovely, aren’t you? What’s a fine young woman such as yourself working in a place like this for?” He intertwined his fingers and rested his face on his hands, still watching you.

Your eyes widened again. Yep. He was definitely hitting on you.

Too bad you were much too focused on your parents’ dream to bother getting into a relationship.

You sighed a bit before answering, “I need to make some money. This was the first place that hired me,”

“Is that so?” You could tell he was trying to make small talk.

“Yes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get your tea.” You nodded a bit before heading off. What was that? In a world like this, flirting should be the least of everyone’s priorities.

Or he could have just been overly friendly, you reminded yourself.

“Here you go. Hope you enjoy,” You said as you set down the cup of tea and saucer. “Will that be all?”

“Yes, thank you love.”

When he handed you back the bill, you noticed he’d given you quite a large tip. “Oh, um-” You looked back at him, assuming it was a mistake.

He’d already gotten up to leave, his tea barely touched. “-It’s for you, love. I hope to see you again.” He sent you a killer smile, and left.

You stood in the same spot for a while, shocked. An encounter like that had never happened to you before.

After a few moments, you giggled. Sure, he was handsome, but he was not your type. You wished you could’ve thanked him for the tip, but thought if you stopped him then it could possibly lead him on.

Which you did not need, since you intended to focus only on opening up a café and staying healthy.

Even though he mentioned it, you didn’t expect to see him again.

Little did you know—he’d make sure to prove you wrong.

~*~

It had been a week since you first met England. He’d frequently been coming to the restaurant where you worked, and once even requested you to be his waitress.

You began to feel a bit awkward around him. He would just order some tea- which he would barely even drink- and watch you.

He’d try small talk every once in a while, but you would make sure to cut it short. Almost every time he would ask if you wanted to sit with him, to which you always replied you were too busy.

He never seemed to give up. You’d hoped he would understand that you simply weren’t interested, but he kept coming.

“I’ll tell you what. How about I take you out on a date? Does that sound fun, love?” He asked once, while you fiddled with your order sheets.

“I can’t this week… I’ve got too much over-time, sorry…” You tried not to hurt his feelings. You always tried to reject him as nicely as possible.

“I see. Maybe some other time.”

You were always blushing around him, and being so kind, that he probably misinterpreted how you felt. He probably thought you really couldn’t make it every time he asked.

Well, it’s embarrassing, you defended yourself. It’s not my fault… that he can’t understand.

 ~*~

Your eyes slowly fluttered open. You looked out the window, and saw it was morning. You yawned before getting out of bed, and headed over to your closet.

It was Saturday morning, and you had plans to go to the library today. I wonder if they got the book I requested… You briefly wondered as you got dressed.

Once you got downstairs, you went over to the front door to retrieve the newspaper that would be on your porch.

But just as you opened the door, your eyes fell on a small bouquet of beautiful red roses. “Oh my…” You breathed as you slowly picked them up. “Could they be from…?”

Your face turned bright red. That was sweet of him, but… how did he know where you live?

You shook your head, dropping the thought. You quickly picked up the newspaper and closed the front door.

These would be nice to give to them… You thought to yourself lovingly as you made your way over to your backyard, still holding the roses.

Once you stepped back outside, you slowly walked over to your parents’ grave stones. You felt bad for giving them England’s flowers rather than ones you bought on your own, but figured neither your parents nor England would mind.

You settled the roses in a ring around the grave stones; the same way everyone else in London did when paying respects to the deceased.

“There, that looks nice.” You said as you looked over the graves. The bright red ring of roses looked pretty surrounding the grave stones, so you paid some short respects and then went back inside.

After having a quick breakfast, you started on your way out the door to head to the library.

But just as you opened the front door again, the smell hit you hard.

Somehow, it got worse after the early morning. The sickening smell of death almost always surrounded London. Rotting, unidentified bodies were often thrown in heaps, then either burned or placed in ditches. Outside on the streets, there was always a disturbing amount of corpses in every corner.

Looking outside, you wondered why you still bothered to venture out there. But not even the Great Plague could stop you from dreaming of opening a café.

You reached into the drawer right beside your door, and pulled out an ancient herb called Posies. They were supposed to keep the stench of death at bay when kept nearby, and replace it with a scent more pleasant.

You put a handful into your pocket, and bravely stepped outside.

Ring around o’ rosies,

Pocketful of Posies…

You made your way towards the library, passing a fire which was being used to cremate the bodies of the sick.

Ashes, ashes…

Once you were inside, you spent most of your day reading. It felt like your escape—you weren’t living in a world of disease, but one filled with love and hope.

You were about a dozen pages into another Shakespeare novel when you suddenly heard a chair be pulled out from in front of you.

You slowly moved the book away from your face, and saw England had taken a seat in front of you.

“Hello, love.”

You almost facepalmed. It was like he popped out of nowhere. “Hi there, England…”

He smiled at you, and leaned forward on the table. “Ah, Shakespeare. Excellent choice.”

Your bored face instantly brightened up. “You read Shakespeare?” You asked in disbelief.

He nodded, “Of course. He’s my favorite writer of all time.”

“Me too. I’ve practically memorized all of his quotes,”

England nodded again. “As have I. He has quite a way with words.”

You grinned enthusiastically, and asked him what his favorite novel of Shakespeare’s was. Not too long after that, you found yourself in a deep conversation that you never thought you could ever have with someone like him.

“I completely agree. They were young, but in love. After all, love at first sight does in fact exist.”

“Really? What makes you so sure?” You asked without thinking. Romeo and Juliet were one thing, but outside literature, you weren’t so sure if people were really chosen by fate to love one person forever.

England smirked suggestively, and rested his face on his palm. He stared into your eyes, not saying a word.

After a moment, you got the hint. Your cheeks blushed furiously and you looked away; even your ears burned with embarrassment. “Y-You’re not being serious…” You mumbled quietly.

He smiled softly as he continued to watch you, his green eyes half-lidded and full of love. “I am,” He murmured.

You sighed. For the past hour, you’d been having a great conversation with someone who loved the same books as you. But somehow, this had turned into an indirect confession.

Before, you’d thought of him as simply a creeper. A sweet, gentleman-like creeper. After all, shouldn’t he be searching for a cure rather than flirting around with you?

You scoff at the thought. But no matter how you looked at it, today had made you change how you thought of him.

He wasn’t just some creeper… *who maybe even* …stalked you. He was a person. He was capable of a real conversation. Maybe you two had even more things in common than you thought.

You just had to give him a chance. Which- you realized- you never had. But even so, you were not about to be in a relationship with someone.

Though, that didn’t mean you had to avoid him. It wasn’t like it was a bad thing to be friends with the guy, right?

He hadn’t ever done anything wrong. Except maybe stalk you.

You tried to shake off that last thought—you couldn’t even prove it right.

But still, maybe he had the right to act strange.

He was in charge of a certain country where he had to everyday watch his people drop like flies to a sickness he didn’t understand and was maybe too afraid to even find out. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the emotional trauma he must be going through. All you knew was having to live through such an ordeal would probably put you or any other person into a psych ward.

But even through his massive loss, England would still be forced to keep going until he couldn’t carry on any longer—and maybe even die along with his country.

You immediately tried not to think of such things any longer. England wouldn’t die. This country wouldn’t die. Or at least you hoped.

But one thing was for sure. Before, you couldn’t take him or his feelings for you seriously. Now… you weren’t so sure about that.

~*~

He wasn’t lying.

What he implied, hinted at, talked about… everything was true. He was being serious when he told you.

That he was in love with you.

You were quite a bit younger than him, but it didn’t matter. Ever since he met you, things slowly got better. He found ways to slow the sickness. The disease stopped spreading over Europe. Other nations joined in and teamed up to find a cure; some even going so far as to donate thousands of dollars to the cause.

He felt you were his good luck charm. He’d fallen in love with you at first sight, no doubt.

You were the princess that invaded his dreams every night. You were the girl he couldn’t ever get out of his mind. It was all you.

He recognized you as soon as he saw you. The girl from his dream. He technically already loved you, but finally getting to meet you was something else.

He couldn’t even describe the experience. When you’d first bumped into him, he could’ve sworn he felt his heart stop. There, right in front of him, was the girl he’d only seen in his dreams. The girl he’d been searching for.

Immediately he decided he would make you love him too. He didn’t quite know how, or believe he’d be good at it, or even think it would happen anytime soon. All he knew was that he would never give up.

~*~

You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Ever since that day in the library, he was always on your mind.

Why? You wondered. Why… when I was so close to my goal, did I have to get a distraction like him?

You were thinking too much lately. Especially during work.

Naturally, this resulted in an accident. You had almost prepared yourself for it; being the clumsy person that you were. But you just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

You broke another dish. Of course, it was from daydreaming about England too much. You hadn’t seen him since Saturday, and it was already Tuesday. What was that, a record for him?

You had simply expected your boss to yell at you again. Like she always did. But this time, it was different. She must have been in a bad mood is all.

“_____! That’s the third dish this month!” She screamed, gaining attention from some of the chefs.

You stopped washing the dishes and faced her. “I-I’m sorry. It’s just I-”

“-You know what? I don’t want to hear any excuse this time. You’re fired. Go change and bring me back your uniform. Fold it neatly and place it on my desk, got it?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She left the kitchen in an angry huff.

You tried not to think about your now-dying dream as you walked home. It was already dusk and the sun was setting.

You told yourself you could get another job. Though it had taken you months to find this one.

Someday, I will open up a café, you told yourself. Maybe not now, or soon, but someday… I will. For them…

Thinking about your deceased family only reminded you about your neighbor. She too had caught the illness, and it had been a while since you checked on her.

Nodding to yourself, you decided to visit her.

 ~*~

 “Oh, hello, _____. Nice to see you again…”

You nodded at your neighbor, whom you hadn’t seen in a long while. “Hi Switzerland. How’s-”

“-Big brother? Who’s at the door?”

You smiled. You were glad to know she was still there.

You walked into the house, without waiting for Switzerland to invite you in. You walked straight over to Liechtenstein’s room, and slowly opened the door.

“Liechtenstein…?” You tried to cover your shock.

She tried her best to smile. “I’m right here. I missed you,”

She looked horrible. The Plague was truly a terrible disease. Parts of her skin had already begun to rot, the tips of her fingers were black, and the stench of death hung in the air.

“Oh, don’t come too close. I want you to stay healthy.” You could see the gentle smile in her eyes. It was hard for her to move, and you understood.

Even on her deathbed, she still looked out for others. Same old Liechtenstein.

“_____?” Still in the doorway, you turned slowly to see Switzerland with a stoic expression on his face. “It’s best you not stay long. I was going to tell you before you came in…” He whispered.

You nod, and turn back to look at Liechtenstein. She looked at you, and somehow managed a smile. “I… hope to see you again.”

You tried to fight back tears. But just as you shut the door to her room, they began streaming down your face.

“She’s… not gonna make it, ____...” Switzerland told you softly; his face somber.

You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Only because you knew it would make him cry. But you couldn’t fight back the tears.

He hugged you gently to his chest, slowly rubbing your back in a comforting way. “I… haven’t told her yet. But I know she already suspects it…” He sighed.

You couldn’t handle it. Your family was already gone, and now your friend? You heard a rainstorm start up outside, but you didn’t care. You had to get out of there—and soon.

“I think it just started raining. Why don’t you stay here for the night, _____?” Switzerland offered kindly. He knew it wasn’t safe, but it would be okay if you stayed away from Liechtenstein’s bedroom.

You sniffled, “N-No. I have to go, thanks. I’ll see you later, Switzy.” Without waiting for him to respond, you bolted out the door.

The rain poured down hard, but you still ran off into the night.

You’d never felt more pain in your entire life. Your family was gone. Your friends were dying. Your dreams were falling apart. You got fired and had no money left. Why was the world so against you? Why was death in every corner you looked? Why was there no way to escape?

You knew you’d catch the illness sooner or later—it was only a matter of time. You were just going to die anyway. What was the point in staying?

--No, there wasn’t any ‘staying’. There was only struggling to live. Trying. No one knew for sure if they were going to make it out alive.

It wasn’t long until even darker, more extreme suicidal thoughts began to plague your mind. They dragged you over to the London Bridge, in the pouring rain, and convinced you to climb it. Almost completely unaware of your actions by now, your mind stayed on the internal situation.

I’m losing my will to live. Perhaps it’s time for me to check out. There’s no one left for me, no one… Your face stayed emotionless as your mind kept taking over, never giving you a break from the cloudy thoughts, There’s nothing going for my life. No one would even notice I’m gone…-

Suddenly, a movement beside you caused you to break out of your trance.

You turned, and felt your eyes widen. It was… him.

“It’s a bit cold out tonight, don’t you think?” England asked, zipping up his black leather jacket. “Bloody rain ruined my evening walk.”

You blinked in surprise. Didn’t he know where you were?

He glanced up. “Look at you,” He shook his head. “You don’t even have a coat. Would you like to borrow mine, love?”

You stayed silent. You didn’t move from atop the Bridge, and simply watched him in shock.

He leaned his back against the Bridge, noticing how you were ignoring him. He was quiet for a while, waiting for you to speak. While he waited, he sang quietly, in a voice barely audible, London Bridge is falling down, falling down…

You shivered, barely starting to notice the cold wind and pouring rain.

He’s acting like he doesn’t care… You thought sourly. Which I know he does more than anything…

He’d been chasing you for so long, yet he was being so bloody nonchalant about it. Was it really no big deal to him? Were you completely worthless—couldn’t even keep one guy interested? Especially after finally realizing…-

The thoughts began to anger you rather than sadden you. Was it something he did every day? Make a girl feel special, and then just dump her on the side of the road?

Or to put it more bluntly, let her jump off a bridge?

“Would you like some tea, love?” He pulled out a thermos. “I believe it’s still war-”

You jumped off the Bridge… and onto the pavement beside him. “-What’s wrong with you?” You demanded; eyes narrowed.

He shrugged. “Well… it’s your choice, you know. If you jump, I do too.”

You almost felt your heart stop.

He didn’t even need to explain why. And it shocked you to realize- for the first time, after everything he did- that he was really, truly in love with you.

That was what it took for you to finally take his feeling seriously. After all this time…-

He stepped closer to you. “’When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew’.”

Your heart almost shattered. He was quoting your shared favorite author Shakespeare—while being completely honest on his part.

Before you could fully react, he stretched out his hand. “I know a place where we can go. Where there’s no sickness, no death, no war, no bad people…”

You look up at him, awestruck.

He smiled gently, the rain matting down his messy blonde hair. “Take my hand, love. Onward to a better place.”

Your right hand twitches at your side. “W-Where…?”

He grins, “I actually don’t know. Flying Mint Bunny will show us the way.”

A.N.: … Okay, I really liked this one.

It was my first time trying to write a story in the setting of a certain year. The Black Plague sounded really interesting… and heart-breaking at the same time. I had to research it a little, but it was worth it. I don’t think I got everything right for that time period, but I hope it came out okay.

Oh and… in case you really do feel like how you did in the story before England came in and saved you… DON’T DO IT! KILLING YOURSELF IS NEVER THE RIGHT OPTION. ENDING YOUR LIFE IS A PERMANENT SOLUTION TO WHAT COULD ONLY BE A TEMPORARY PROBLEM. If you’re feeling depressed, call a suicide prevention hotline. The operators will talk to you anonymously for however long you want and listen to anything you have to say. I only have the number for the US hotline, but if you’re from a different country, you can get the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline from the Internet. If you need someone to talk to and live in the US, call 1-800-273-8255. Or you can message me. I’ll talk to you about anything you want and try my best to make you feel better.

Anyway, see you later! I love you guys!