“Why can’t you just pick me?”
Warning:‘Lime’ content— beware
You looked up at the poster. It was still a little crooked, but it would have to do.
You’d just finished putting up your newest poster of your favorite band, Bad Touch. It had all three members on it—Prussia, France, and Spain, looking as great as they always did.
They were currently your obsession. But not just you; they had fangirls all over the world. They were a national phenomenon. Starting out in Europe, they quickly became the world’s most famous boy band.
Lately, Bad Touch was all you ever thought about. Usually you didn’t obsess over boy bands, but this was an exception.
Since your family didn’t have a lot of money, you couldn’t afford to go to concerts or even buy much of their merchandise. But you did spend all of your allowance on magazines. Mostly just to rip out the Bad Touch posters and put them up on your wall.
If you were lucky, your parents would let you print out pictures from the Internet of Prussia and put them up. But they normally wouldn’t allow you to ‘waste’ so much ink.
Unlike all the other fans, you only loved Prussia. Everyone else simply loved all three of them, but you mostly cared for the red-eyed, albino ‘King of Awesome’. You weren’t sure why, but he was your favorite. France was close behind though, of course.
You sighed happily, gazing up at Prussia’s face. You went over to your desk and pulled out a sharpie, then walked back over to the poster.
You drew a heart next to Prussia, and smiled.
“GET BACK OVER HERE, YOU IDIOTS!” Germany yelled furiously.
France cringed, “Oh Mr. Germany, why don’t you take a break from yelling at us? It would do us all some good, non?” He asked, and winked at his manager.
“I can’t go a day without yelling at you guys; because you’re all such imbeciles!”
Prussia groaned before turning back around. He, France, and Spain had been so close to dodging Germany’s wrath. “No, the awesome me is not an imbecile!” He shouted back, a red tick mark on his forehead.
“What did we do this time?” Spain asked innocently.
All four of them were in the recording studio of one of their mansions. The one in Europe, to be more precise.
They’d just finished recording a new song and were about to leave- mostly since they’d heard Germany come in- but he’d caught them before they could escape.
“Your inability to keep a personal maid is preposterous. Why does every single one you have either quit or get fired by one of you? Hm? Are you all really that terrible that you need to hire your, what, sixteenth personal maid?!”
France shrugged his shoulders. “They get boring after a while, so we have to hire a new one.”
“THEY’RE NOT FOR ENTERTAINMENT!” Germany growled back.
“Yeah, France is right. The last one refused to pole dance for me.” Prussia added nonchalantly—completely ignoring Germany’s statement.
Germany slowly turned to face him. “You do understand what a maid is, right?” He struggled to keep a calm voice—they never listened when he yelled. “She’s a live-in housekeeper, not a 24/7 in-house prostitute!”
“I didn’t say I wanted a prostitute. I want a stripper.” Prussia deadpanned.
“LIKE YOU’RE GETTING ONE OF THOSE!” Germany shouted.
France and Spain laughed. “He was only joking, calm down!” Spain managed between laughter.
“I was?” Prussia asked in confusion.
Germany facepalmed. “I can barely understand why you’re famous.” He grumbled to himself.
“Maybe because we have the best manager ever?” Spain suggested cheerfully, patting Germany on the back.
He sighed. “Alright, let me just ask you this. Next time, why don’t we just hire an older maid?”
Prussia made a disgusted face. “Because! Er, because… I don’t want some old lady cleaning my room?”
“Or dressing us!” France added.
Germany shook his head. “We can’t keep hiring teenage girls as your personal maid. You two,” He glared at Prussia and France, “-always harass her. If we get one that’s older, most likely she won’t quit or get fired like the rest.”
“But if she’s older, she won’t be cute, oh hon hon hon~”
“Agreed!” Prussia shouted.
This was his breaking point. “YOU TWO NEED TO PULL YOURSELVES TOGETHER AND QUIT FLIRTING WITH THE MAID! SHE’S HERE TO TEND AND CLEAN UP AFTER YOU GUYS— NOT SLEEP WITH YOU! YOU’RE ALWAYS DISTRACTING HER FROM HER WORK AND/OR MAKING HER FAINT!” He paused to take in a deep breath, “And making her faint is what always gets her fired by one of you or results in her quitting, you idiots.”
Spain stayed silent. He knew this scolding wasn’t directed towards him—it never was. That was because, he disliked playing with young girls’ hearts the way France and Prussia did.
They’d always flirt with girls, but never mean it. Just because they flirted didn’t mean they wanted a relationship.
Spain, on the other hand, was different. He loved his fans, but he wouldn’t try to kiss the ones he thought were pretty like France and Prussia did.
He knew they loved girls. What guy didn’t? But it most certainly did not mean they could act like they liked them when they really didn’t. In other words, he didn’t play with girls’ feelings. He wasn’t a playboy. And he respected women the way they should be.
He enjoyed making them happy—not pass out.
Germany was massaging his temples with his fingers, trying to overcome a headache. “Alright, I’ll make you a deal.”
“What is it?” France and Prussia asked in unison.
“If you can find a new maid, one that won’t quit or get fired, within a week—I’ll let you hire her. If you don’t find one, I’ll choose one. And I’ll make sure she’s as unattractive for you guys as possible,” Germany glared at the two most popular members of Bad Touch. “Got it?”
France and Prussia were silent for a moment, then nodded.
“Good. Now finish recording the new album. I’ll be in my office.” He then left the room.
As soon as he was gone, Prussia plopped down on the couch. “Man, how are we gonna find a maid on our own? Before Germany just let us look through pictures of high-priced maids and had us pick one.”
“Duh, I know,” France responded. “We’ll have to go out and find one. While in disguise, of course.”
“But how will we know if they’re good at, I don’t know, being a maid?” Prussia asked.
France scoffed, “It doesn’t matter. So long as she’s cute, yes?” He winked. “Don’t you agree, Spain?” He asked, turning to face the other member.
“Anything you say. Whatever happens, I won’t be the one getting in trouble for it.”
France cheered. “I’ll take that as a yes~! Now, when should we start?”
You finished doing the dishes, and turned off the water faucet.
As you dried your hands, you looked out the window and noticed it was quite a nice evening. Not too windy or cold. Perfect night for a walk, you thought to yourself.
You went over to where your mother was, “Hey mom? I’m gonna go take a walk, okay?”
She stopped folding laundry to smile at you. “Sure. Just make sure you take a coat.”
As you stepped outside a few minutes later, you shivered. It was colder than you’d thought it would be. But you were already out here, and hadn’t taken an evening walk in forever, so you decided to stay.
I wonder if anyone I know is at the park nearby… You thought. It was a Saturday night, so there had to be at least a few people hanging out there. It was popular among teenagers because there was a skate park and large baseball field there too.
You began walking down the streets, passing many alleyways and dark corners.
Teenage girl walking alone at night. Best prey for rapists… You thought in the back of your mind, but laughed it off. No way.
As if on cue, you heard a scuffling noise coming from one of the dark alleyways. The streetlamps barely reached them, so you couldn’t see much at all.
You kept walking, and ignored it for now. You were about to pass it anyway— and besides, it was probably just a stray cat.
But as you reached the entry to the dark alley, you heard running.
You turned, only to knock heads with a figure in all black.
“Ouch!” You shouted, just as you and the person both lost your footing from the impact and fell hard to the ground.
The back of your skull slammed against something soft and warm—definitely not the sidewalk, for sure.
You heard a groaning sound, and from the voice you could tell it was a male.
Wait… a male…
“Eeep!” You immediately squealed as you pushed the stranger off you.
He groaned again, and sat up. Slowly, he removed his arm which had protected your head from slamming onto the pavement. “Sorry about that, chica…” He mumbled, rubbing the side of his skull.
That voice… haven’t I heard it from somewhere?... You briefly wondered to yourself. “It’s okay, I should’ve moved out of the w-” You paused.
He was standing up, and lowering his hand down to help you back up. But the kind gesture wasn’t what cut you off. It was his eyes.
His black hood covered all of his hair, but from this lighting and angle, you could see his eyes clearly. They were a beautiful green. You couldn’t see the rest of his face- just his nose, barely- but you could already tell he was handsome.
You grabbed onto his hand, and he helped you up. You were speechless—this guy was too cute to run into someone like you. Normally, the random people you met were older or plain-looking.
You were still gazing into his eyes, trying to find something familiar, when he spoke again. “You’re trying to recognize me, aren’t you?” He laughed a bit.
You sucked in a deep breath. That odd ‘fusososo’ laugh was unmistakable. “By any chance, are you Spain of Bad Touch…?” You asked in surprise.
He looked at you and grinned, pulling down his hood. “Sure am!”
You didn’t know how to react. There in front of you was your least favorite member of your most favorite band. You weren’t sure if you should feel disappointed that he wasn’t Prussia or simply glad you got to meet someone so close to him.
You almost blurted out, ‘Is Prussia with you?’, but thought better of it. Best not to be rude to a famous person.
“You’re not gonna scream and ask me for a hug and an autograph? That’s new.” He laughed again, amused at the fact. He hadn’t been discovered without being mobbed by girls in a long time.
In fact, he’d been running earlier because someone had recognized him. He tried losing them by zigzagging through the alleyways, and it worked pretty well. He was so caught up in getting away that he didn’t notice you before accidentally ramming into you.
After a moment, you laughed with him. Hell, your calm and collected manor had surprised even you. “Well, how about you take a picture with me?” You asked, pulling out your phone. You knew people wouldn’t believe you if you told them you met Spain of Bad Touch while out on an evening walk, so it was best to have evidence.
He nodded, and you took a front-camera picture with him. He grinned as you took it, pressing his face close to yours.
“So what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” You asked curiously, once you put your phone away.
“I was actually out looking for a-… something.” He said, stopping himself before saying the word ‘maid’.
“A something huh?” You nodded once in understanding, even though you had no idea what he could be looking for. Especially at a time like this. In a place like here. But you didn’t go further into it.
You plopped down on a bench that was nearby—your ankle was hurting a bit from when you fell. Spain had landed on top of you (wait what?) and his body weight must’ve made your ankle slam down hard on the cement.
If only it would’ve been Prussia who ran into me and fallen on top of- …you tried not to think those thoughts.
To your surprise, you sensed Spain sit down next to you. You glanced over to him, and saw he was looking into the night sky.
You’d been about to say a farewell to him, but he must’ve had more time on his hands than you thought. “What’s your name, chica?” He asked, peeling his eyes away from the glowing full moon to look at you.
“_____.” You responded.
He smiled gently. “Nice to meet you,”
After that, he started asking you more questions about yourself. Where you went to school, if you liked it there, a bit about your friends, and even about your family. It seemed he was genuinely trying to get to know you.
He was funny, charming, and maybe even a little cute. You’d never thought much of Spain before—you’d been much more interested in Prussia.
But he’s not as boring as I thought he’d be… You thought as Spain went on, telling you funny stories about he and the rest of Bad Touch.
After about an hour, you decided you did like Spain after all. He was nice and sweet; kind of adorable too. But not as awesome as Prussia, you still thought.
Spain’s plain brown hair and green eyes could never surpass Prussia’s silver hair and mysterious red orbs, but he was fine. “-And so that’s why Prussia peed on France while they were hiding in the bushes. France had been asleep at first and had no clue!” Spain laughed, as did you. Hearing about Prussia made you act a bit giddy.
Once the laughter died down, he sighed contently as he subconsciously scooted a bit closer to you. “Hey, you’re pretty cool. Do you have a job?”
You shook your head. “No, but I wish I did. My family’s kind of poor so I’ve been looking for one. Haven’t had much luck, though.”
He grinned a bit. “Wanna be a personal maid for Bad Touch?”
You immediately sucked in a deep breath, shocked. Did he just say what you thought he did? Be a personal maid for the most popular band in the world?!
You instantly got mental images of yourself hanging out with Prussia while in a maid outfit, serving him a drink while he smirked suggestively.
You blushed bright red, and tried to make the thoughts go away. But a personal maid? No one would ever believe you if you told anyone. “Spain, are you serious?” You asked in disbelief. It almost seemed like a joke—when did a girl on an evening walk ever run into a famous person and then get asked to be his and the rest of the band’s personal maid? Um, never.
He grinned at you. “Of course I’m serious!” He turned on the bench so he was sitting directly across from you, cross-legged. “We’d be lucky to have someone like you.”
He thought you were just about the most down-to-earth girl he’d ever met. All the others seemed fake, or annoying, or weird or just not his type… at all. But you—he thought you were cheerful, honest, and beautiful.
You hadn’t freaked out when you saw it was him, so that was good. His mission was to find someone exactly like that—a girl who could handle being around Bad Touch nearly 24/7 without fangirling all over the place.
He was glad to have met you. He bet neither Prussia nor France had successfully managed to find anyone as perfect as you.
And secretly, he hoped he was your ‘favorite’. He knew every fan of Bad Touch must have a favorite.
“Is this a joke? Of course I’ll be your personal maid!” You shouted gleefully.
About a week later, you arrived outside Bad Touch’s European mansion. The driver opened the door for you, and you smiled politely.
Once he drove off, you slowly walked up to the enormous front door.
Your heart was pounding, breath was heavy, and legs felt like Jell-O. You were finally going to meet Prussia!
It almost felt like a dream. Most girls had to pay for expensive meet-and-greet passes just to meet them for a few minutes, while you were going to work with them. It practically felt like a Bad Touch fanfiction.
After a couple minutes, you finally got a hold of yourself long enough to ring the doorbell.
A few seconds later, it opened. You felt like your heart was about to explode.
The door opened to reveal a young, handsome guy wearing a blue waistcoat and glasses. “Hello, you must be the new maid. Allow me to introduce myself,” He ushered you in like a true gentleman, and you blushed the tiniest bit. “My name is Austria. It’s a pleasure to meet you, young lady. I am the butler of this mansion.”
You grinned, “Hi Austria. Nice to meet you too. I’m _____.”
He smiled back politely. “I know. Spain’s been talking about you quite a lot,” You froze in surprise for a moment, and he chuckled. “Now if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you around the mansion a bit. Then I’ll give you your uniform and you can meet the others.” He spoke as he turned to start walking through the wide hallways of the mansion.
You followed him cheerfully, paying attention to where all the rooms were. But you didn’t think you could memorize them all in one day—there were way too many in this overly gigantic mansion-!
Once you’d gone through most of the place, he led you to a dressing room. “I’ll be giving you the uniform here. You can change in there and then come back out to the lounge room. The band including their manager Germany will be inside.” He explained as he reached into a large linen closet.
“Okay.” You agreed happily.
You were trying to stay as calm as you could—thinking about meeting Prussia in a few minutes gave you butterflies and made your heart beat even faster.
“Oh, but there’s something I forgot to tell you…” Austria mumbled a bit, his head still in the closet.
“What is it?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and you glanced over at him. Is his face… pink? You wondered in disbelief. You could only see about half of his face since the other half was hidden in the closet.
You tapped your foot impatiently.
“There’s just…” He didn’t know how to explain it. He looked back into the closet, and decided to just show it to you. He sighed and pulled out the maid uniform.
Your eyes almost popped out of your head. “What the hell is that?!” You asked, your voice going up a few notches.
He smiled apologetically, his cheeks tinted pink. “It’s, well… your uniform. But believe me, I didn’t-”
Your jaw dropped and face instantly turned bright red. You couldn’t believe it. That was your uniform?!
“No, no, it’s not what you think. I didn’t pick it. Prussia and France did. They insisted you wear it-” He hurriedly explained, looking away while his blush grew to a shade of red.
You facepalmed. “Austriaaa~!” You whined.
“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do. It would go against the young masters’ orders…” He mumbled, still too embarrassed to make eye contact.
You still couldn’t believe it. Why would they make you wear such a thing?! It was short, it was revealing, it was so not you! “But it’s practically lingerie!” You whined again, hiding your face behind your hands and peeking at the maid uniform (read: costume).
He chuckled a bit. “Don’t worry, it’ll look good on you—I promise,” He smiled at you, making your blush about ten times worse. “Now, just try it on. You know where to go from here, right?” You nodded a bit, and he didn’t wait long enough for you to refuse to wear it. “Then I’ll be downstairs! See you later, darling.” He left as fast as he could, fighting another blush.
You groaned, and picked up the costume he’d left for you. Once inside the dressing room, you forced yourself to put it on. Even if you thought it looked ridiculous, and were annoyed at Prussia and France for making you wear it—you were still excited to meet them.
A few minutes later, you walked into the lounge room. You didn’t knock this time since you knew they were expecting you. Once you were inside, you immediately noticed Bad Touch hanging out along with their strict-looking manager, Germany.
Spain immediately bounced up to you, “_____! I’ve been waiting for y-” He stopped mid-sentence.
His jaw dropped and face flushed as soon as he saw you, his eyes subconsciously roaming over your sexy maid-clad body.
You heard Prussia and France laugh at his reaction, and you sucked in a sharp breath. There he was, the King of Awesome, the hot red-eyed albino and lead singer of your favorite band Bad Touch! And he was… not even eight feet away.
You’re stunned speechless while Germany walks up to you, thankfully breaking you out of your trance. “Ah, another Prussia fan, I see?” He noted, obviously not missing your reaction.
You blush immediately, and look away. Sure, you liked Prussia, but you didn’t want him to know that. Especially when you’d be working with him. Who knows how much fun he’d have trying to embarrass you.
Spain recovered from his shock of seeing you in a hot maid outfit only to be shocked even worse. “Aw, you like Prussia?” He whined quietly.
“Kesesese, of course she does! Who wouldn’t love the awesome me?!”
Before you could say anything, you felt something move behind you. Just as you turned, you came face-to-face with France; a rose already in his hand.
“My, how beautiful you are~! Would you care for a rose, mon ami?” He winked, pulling you close.
Germany quickly shooed him away. “See, there you go again! Leave her the hell alone, dammit!”
You glanced over at Spain, only to see him in the ‘emo corner’ mode with a dark and depressing aura surrounding him.
Germany sighed, and turned to face you. “Are you really sure you want to work with these idiots? I most certainly would not blame you if you wanted to quit a few days in, you’ll see-”
“-Hey, shut up!” You heard Prussia yell.
“-they’re a pretty rowdy bunch. And crazy. And these two,” He pointed in the general direction of Prussia and France, “can be quite the perverts. You still okay with the job?”
You gulped, “Y-Yes.”
“Although do not hesitate to tell me if they harass you. I’ll always be in the-”
“-That’s enough, Mr. Germany! The young lady’s heard enough, yes?” France interrupted.
He sighed, and finally gave up. “Whatever. Now does anyone know where Austria is?”
Spain piped up, suddenly recovered from his previous sulky state. “He probably got lost again.”
You snorted. Austria, lost? The same guy who had just showed you all over the-
“Ah yes, he tends to do that a lot. Who the hell knows what’s wrong with him.” Germany grumbled under his breath. “Anyway, Spain,” He said, his voice back to normal. “Since Austria’s not here, can you take _____ to her room?”
Your eyes widened. Wait, what? No one had told you that you were gonna sleep there!
Germany noticed your confused expression. “Oh, were you not aware?” He didn’t wait for a response. He turned to glare at Spain, who grinned sheepishly.
“Must’ve slipped my mind…” He laughed weakly, rubbing the back of his head.
“Tch… imbecile,” Germany scoffed. “Is it alright with you?” He asked, turning back to face you.
You thought it over for a moment. “Sure I guess...” You agreed; face red from thinking about sleeping under the same roof as Bad Touch.
“Alright then, I’ll show you the way!” Spain said cheerfully as he grabbed your wrist and began leading you out.
Once you were out in the halls with him, he leaned in and whispered, “Is your favorite really Prussia though?” He asked in a hushed voice that was mixed with both disbelief and distaste.
You looked at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, why?” It was then that you noticed you hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk to him or officially meet him. Did Prussia even know your name yet?
Spain pouted a bit, and crossed his arms as the two of you walked down the mansion halls. “Then who’s your second favorite?”
Without thinking, you blurted out, “France.”
Spain almost fell over as he realized he was your least favorite of the group. “B-But…!-”
You immediately realized what you’d just said and how it must have made him feel. “-Oh, I didn’t mean it like that! You’re great too! You’re like really talented and stuff…”
He instantly perked back up. “You think so?” It reminded you of a magazine article you’d read about him a while back—one that said he was normally cheerful, and if he wasn’t— he’d always go back to his usual self almost immediately.
He chuckled a bit, “Heh… well I missed you!” He said; a grin on his face.
Missed me?... You wondered, but didn’t pay much attention to it. He casually put his arm around your shoulders as you turned a corner, “I really like that outfit of yours, by the way…”
You scoffed. “No way, it looks terrible on me. But thanks.”
He laughed, “I assure you; you’re wrong.” You didn’t notice his eyes roam over your body.
“Yeah right...” You tried not to roll your eyes.
He looked you straight in the eye, and told you in a more serious voice, “I’m not joking. I think you’re beautiful.”
You almost stopped walking. Did he tell that to all the girls he met? Was he just trying to be friendly? Or… did he sincerely mean it?
“Here we go, this is your room.” He stopped in front of a door in a long hallway. “Oh yeah, and this room,” He walked directly across the hall to another door and grinned. “-is mine.”
You blinked owlishly. Is he serious?
His grin didn’t falter. “It’s because you have to stay near one of us. You know, puts the ‘personal’ in ‘personal maid’. And Germany thought this would be better than you staying near Prussia or France so they wouldn’t bother you at night.”
You gasped slightly. Maybe I would’ve liked if they ‘bothered’ me at night?! You almost wanted to say.
Instead you walked into your room and looked around; it was a nice place. Maybe about four times the size of your actual bedroom.
Spain followed you inside, just as Austria appeared. “Oh, hello Spain, and Miss _____. I’ve brought you some complementary supplies as thanks from the band along with some clothes to keep here at the mansion. You can start putting them away if you like.”
Spain turned to him. “Hey, where were you earlier? Get lost again?” He joked.
Austria sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”
He soon bid farewell and left the room to go do other errands, leaving you alone with Spain.
As you began putting away the clothes- once in a while squealing at how cute they were- Spain plopped down to lay on your king sized bed. “Oh yeah, just get comfortable.” You teased.
He smiled, and watched you closely. A little glint danced in his eye, and you couldn’t tell if it was from happiness or curiosity.
After a few moments, you began to feel uncomfortable. “Um… why are you staring at me like that?”
He chuckled, and tore his eyes off you. “Oh, because I just decided I’ll make you love me more than Prussia,” He smirked, “and soon.”
The next morning, you were in Prussia’s room. Helping him pack for tour, that is.
“Do you want to bring these…?” You asked cautiously, holding up some sweatshirts.
“No way, they’re too last season. Go look for my Calvin Klein jackets.” He barked, while looking down at his iPhone.
You sighed, and began another what-felt-like endless search. He’d been giving you orders all morning, being as picky as possible with his clothing.
He hadn’t even said a ‘good morning’ when he saw you, or even a ‘thank you’ for anything. You hadn’t been expecting things to be like this. He barely even waited for you to be done with stuff before telling you to do something else.
You couldn’t help it— you were starting to feel a bit annoyed with him. Let me repeat that, him. Prussia, your long-time celebrity crush!
You were folding one of his t-shirts, as ‘awesomely perfect as possible’ as he’d instructed, when Spain walked into the room.
“-And don’t forget to dust all my Grammy’s! Oh and pack me some more jeans. Remember how I told you to fold them, too!” Prussia called out from his large bathroom; which was connected to his bedroom.
Before you could respond, Spain kicked the door to Prussia’s bathroom open. “Hey man, you overworking my chica or what?”
You looked up and saw Prussia in only his boxers, scratching his stomach as he stepped out of the bathroom. “No, you’re just underworking her.” He snickered.
“Try being a little nicer and telling her ‘please’ for once,”
Prussia laughed. “She should feel lucky to be serving me,” He then walked over to you and smirked. Without warning, he gave you a huge, rough bear hug. You gasped, completely shocked. “Besides, she knows I appreciate her. Don’t you?” He pulled away slightly, his arms still around your waist.
You could barely breathe from the super-tight hug. You stepped back, and accidentally bumped into Spain. “Of course, Pr-Prussia…” You stuttered quietly, looking down.
He immediately went back to what he was doing, shouting about his ‘awesomeness’ along the way—completely unaware of how you felt.
You turned to Spain. “Um… thanks. I wanted to tell him that too.”
He smiled. “No prob, chica! Anything for you.”
You blushed just the tiniest bit, much to your surprise. After all, this was just Spain—plain old Spain. Why did he make you feel better than Prussia?
“Like me better than Prussia yet?” He asked jokingly, as if he read your mind.
You scoffed. “In your dreams.” He probably saw this as some stupid contest or whatever.
Without asking for permission, you left Prussia alone to finish his packing. You began walking down to make lunch.
“Hey, where’re you going?” Spain asked as soon as he noticed you leaving.
“To make lunch,”
He began skipping along beside you. “Can I help?”
You were a bit surprised. Since he was famous, you didn’t expect him to like cooking for himself. Maybe he was a bit more down-to-earth than you thought.
“Please please please?” He begged, as if sensing your hesitation. “Come on chica, pretty please? I’ll behave, I promise!”
You sighed. “Oh, fine,” You finally agreed as you made it to the kitchen. “What should we make?” You turned, and much to your surprise— he was simply lounging on the kitchen counter, eating a tomato.
“I thought you were going to help me?!” You yelled in surprise. Maybe he just wanted a snack is all…
He laughed. “Well, about that… I meant in an I’ll-keep-you-company sort of way!” He said, making you facepalm as he reached for another tomato.
You looked away from him, and sighed. “But I don’t know how to cook very well…” You whined. “How come you guys don’t have chefs to work here and cook for you?”
“Oh, but we do,” He explained, getting off the kitchen counter. “They took today off. Every time we get a new maid, they get a much-needed break the first day or two.”
You groaned, and looked around the huge kitchen. To be honest, you had no idea how to cook. And you were scared you’d accidentally poison them or something.
You shivered at the thought of a riot of Bad Touch fangirls coming to kill you if a single member died…
“Hey, if you’re having a hard time, how about something easy? Pasta’s pretty easy, you know.” Spain suggested.
It seemed like a good idea; pasta was indeed easy to make and needed very little ingredients. “Okay. Let’s do spaghetti?”
He nodded. “Yeah!”
You got together most of the tomatoes in the kitchen, much to Spain’s dismay. You put some in the blender, and prepared to make the sauce. “Ha! I knew I wouldn’t mess this up.”
Except you forgot to put the lid on right.
As soon as you turned on the blender, mashed up tomatoes blasted all over you and that particular side of the kitchen.
…That didn’t just happen… you tried to convince yourself.
Spain’s howling laughter told you otherwise. “Hey, shut up!” You growled.
He continued to laugh his ass off. “You’re covered in tomatoes!”
You clenched your teeth, and ran after him. He immediately bolted up and ran around the kitchen. “Stop laughing!” You demanded, trying to punch him. He ignored you and kept giggling, trying to keep a safe distance away.
While his guard was down, you managed to corner him. “Got’cha!” You exclaimed, and continued trying to punch him. He kept dodging as if he was some professional boxer.
“Whoa, calm down chica!” He grinned, and somehow managed to catch both of your wrists in his hands.
You tried to escape his grasp, but he was too strong. “…Let go.” You finally grumbled.
“Nope, I don’t think so.” He pulled you closer, and smirked.
He stared into your eyes, and you gulped. This wasn’t going to end well.
Sure, he was no Prussia. Sure, his eyes weren’t a mesmerizing crimson color. Sure, his hair was plain old brown rather than eye-catching silver. But something about him in that moment completely drew you to him.
He leaned in, and softly pressed his lips to your ear. “Shhh,” His breath tickled your lobe and made a shiver run down your body. “And I won’t tell anyone how much of a fool you made of yourself. Or how many of my precious tomatoes you wasted…”
Ah, Spain was still Spain. No matter how seductive he got.
Your breath hitched as you felt his smirking face travel down your neck—and you tried to hold in a squeal as he ran his warm tongue against your throat.
He pressed you to the wall, and gently licked the rest of the tomatoes off your neck. You felt like you were in Heaven—never had you felt so much pleasure.
He wrapped his arms around your waist, and slowly dragged his tongue up to your jaw. I should really… stop him… before this goes too far… you could barely form coherent thoughts as he pressed his tongue to you.
Subconsciously, you wrapped your arms around his neck and accidentally let out a moan of pleasure. He feels… so nice…
You didn’t catch his smirk as he pressed his forehead to yours, and licked the very corner of your lips. “You taste so good, chica.” He whispered against the edge of your mouth.
Your arms tightened around his neck, trying to pull him even closer. He stayed stiff, but pressed your body to his. “You should make spaghetti more often,”
Prussia was practicing his solo for the newest Bad Touch song while you were on your break, reading a book.
You were sitting on the couch a good distance away from the performance stage, and trying to focus on your novel. But your eyes were currently glued on Prussia.
Before, you would’ve been ecstatic to watch him perform here. It would’ve been like your own personal concert. But somehow, he didn’t seem as amazing as you once thought he was.
He finished up his song, and left to get a bottle of water. You sighed, and set your book down on the table in front of you.
“Like the song?” You heard a voice ask.
You jumped a bit in surprise, and turned to where the highly-recognizable voice came from. “Yeah, it’s okay I guess. Why?”
Spain shrugged, “I wrote it.”
You blushed a little. You actually liked the song a lot. “Then why was Prussia singing it?”
“’Cause it’s more his style. You know, dance music.”
You looked down. “Oh. I don’t know how to dance though.” You admitted without thinking.
His face instantly brightened up. “Really? Get up, let me teach you,”
Your eyes widened. “No way!”
“Why not? Come on, chica! It’ll be fun. I love to dance.”
“Please please please?” Now he was begging…
Backstage, Prussia downed his water bottle—some of it leaking down to his chin. He slammed it back on the counter, exhaling loudly. “So anyway, what do you think about her?”
France smirked. “Well she’s lovely, of course,”
Nodding, Prussia added, “I’ll have to agree with that.”
“But have you noticed,” France began, standing up. “Spain’s been acting pretty weird since she became our maid?”
“Yeah! He’s been more competitive around the awesome me.”
France sighed happily. “I think our little Spain is growing up…”
“And what makes you say that?” Prussia questioned.
“I think he’s got a harmless little crush on Miss _____~!”
Prussia laughed, “A crush? Finally, for once!”
Back in the lounge area, Spain had snuggly placed himself on top of your lap as you struggled to keep your attention on your book. “Come on, please? Pretty please with tomatoes on top~?” He begged cutely.
“That doesn’t sound appetizing at all!” You said, having given up on trying to push him off.
“Oh, of course it does! Now that you finally put the book down, can I teach you to dance now?”
You rolled your eyes, and gave in. He quickly slid off your lap as you stood up. I’ll make this a dance he’ll never forget… You thought slyly as his face brightened up.
“Alright. So first, put your arms on my shoulders. I’ll keep mine here,” You felt him place his warm hands on either side of your waist.
“Now we just-”
You leaned into him, so your bodies were pressing together.
He instantly blushed, and you smirked upon seeing it.
“Um, we just…” Being so close to you was making him lose his train of thought.
He feels so good… You thought to yourself. Experimentally, you rubbed your hips against his. Just one short, rocking movement.
He gasped through clenched teeth, his head tilting back. You smiled slyly as you felt a certain something grow stiff and hot against your lower stomach.
He tightened his grip around your waist, and grinded into you again. This time, he maintained the circular movement and pressed harder into you. Immediately you complied and moved along with him, feeling around his erection with your waist and trying to hold in a laugh.
A quiet moan escaped his lips as you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, and pressed him against the wall.
His face was flushed, eyes were half-lidded, and his lips were parted in pure ecstasy. All while yours maintained that sneaky smile.
Just as he began to hiss in pleasure, you completely moved away from him. “Oh, I think I hear Prussia calling for me. See you!” You laughed hysterically as you began to run out the door.
It took him a few seconds to recover from the shock. “Oh no you don’t! Get back here, chica!” He started running after you, while you giggled uncontrollably.
(A few weeks later…)
You grabbed the towel you needed, and headed back over to the spa room.
Prussia’s eyes widened in delight when he saw it was you who brought the towel he ordered—and not someone like Austria or Germany. “Hey, liebe. You wanna come wrap that on me?” He asked suggestively, folding his arms on the side of the spa and resting his chin on them. He was completely naked, enjoying the Jacuzzi.
“No thanks.” You said in a bored tone.
“Aww, why not? How about you join me then, huh?”
“I’d rather not.” You deadpanned.
“Pfft, you’re no fun,” He sank back into the hot water. “And I was gonna ask you for a date, too.” He grumbled quietly.
You rolled your eyes, and set his towel on a nearby chair. Quickly you began making your way back to the laser tag room to meet up with Spain.
Well, what could you say? Prussia had turned out to be a self-centered, insensitive prick. You had no idea what you’d ever seen in him. Okay… that was a little harsh. He was a funny, confident, and talented guy—but not the one for you. At least you had fun with Spain.
“So, is it official now?” Spain asked once you met up with him. “You like me more than Prussia?”
You laughed. It had probably been the millionth time he’d asked you that. “Oh fine,” You groaned. He finally deserved the truth. “Sure, you’re better than Prussia. Happy now?”
“Yes.” He responded gleefully.
You both got into the laser tag room, where the special LED lights made everything dark purple except for white clothing—which turned to a glowing blue-ish white. You were in front of the entrance to the glow-in-the-dark, maze-like laser tag battlefield; the fog machines blurring up the ground to about knee-length with artificial smoke. Rihanna’s old hit “Disturbia” blasted through the surround sound as you sighed loudly, “What, did you have a contest with him about it or something? ‘Cause if you did, he was doing a pretty crappy job,”
Spain turned to you as he grabbed a laser tag vest. “No. I just wanted you to like me.”
You stepped inside the dark room, vest already on and laser gun in hand. It wasn’t easy to see, but you could tell he had a stoic expression on his face. “I figured as much.”
“So, I’m your favorite now?” He asked, excitement beginning to rise in his voice.
“No, there’s still France. Before I started working with you guys, it was Prussia then France for me.”
Spain groaned, “Why can’t you just pick me?”
You smirked. “Why does it matter so much?”
He blinked owlishly. “Because I like you?”
You didn’t skip a beat. “And what does being my favorite have to do with that?”
After a few seconds of silence, he finally took a guess. “Nothing?”
“Ding ding! And for once ladies and gentleman, he got something right!” You said in a game-announcer voice.
He began laughing. “You were just messing with me the whole time, weren’t you?”
You laughed with him. “Yup,”
“So technically I’ve always been your favorite?”
“And why is that?”
You stepped closer, till you could feel his warm breath on your lips. “’Cause I like you too, silly.”
A.N.: Hey girls, I want a mansion D’:
One like Spain’s here so I could have a laser tag place and a movie theater and luxury spa in my own house. That’d be so great. XD Ahahaha, anyways, I liked this “BTT is a world-famous band” idea so much that I’m thinking about making it into 3 different parts. I mean like, the other 2 would start the same—with you as the maid, only one you’d end up with Prussia and the other you’d end up with France. Get it? Like it? Hate it? Let me know~!
Oh and, I’m so sorry for making Prussia act like such a jerk in this fanfic. I know he’s not. And I really don’t hate him, like at all; in fact he’s one of my favorite Hetalia guys… so no hard feelings… kay? c;