Zuviel Liebe (Germany x Reader): Dummkopf

Konichwa!  Turtle-chan here with another update on the Germany x Reader story.  Goodness, but it's started getting rather long, hasn't it!  Twenty chapters!  Huzzah!  Anyhow, here's the chapter.  It was written at one in the morning, so hopefully it makes some kind of sense...  Sorry for being so brief, but I just don't have much to say at the moment!  Enjoy~!


- Turtle-chan

“Uggh,” Germany groans, covering his face with his hand.

                “Here, I brought you some soup,” you tell him as you walk over to stand by his bed, setting everything you’re carrying down on the bedside table.  You look down and watch his flushed face while he grits his teeth through another wave of nausea.  He’s drenched in sweat and breathing heavily.  You gently place the back of your hand against his forehead, feeling just how hot it is.

                “Danke,” he tells you weakly, peeking up at you through his fingers.

                You cluck your tongue, removing your hand and turning over to the collection of medicines you have on the table.  You open the bottle of acetamintophin and tap two of the oblong white pills into your hand while picking up the bottle of water in the other.  “You’re burning up, Liebling.  Here, take this,” you tell him, passing the items over to him.

                He props himself up on one arm and pops the pills into his mouth, washing them down with the water and a grimace.  “Vhat kint of soup is it?” he asks as he slowly forces himself into a sitting position.

                You help him prop himself up with a pillow as you answer, “Kartoffelsuppe.  Your favorite.”

                “You dit not haf to…,” he starts to say with embarrassment, but you cut him off.

                “No, I didn’t have to, but I did anyway.  Do you want to know why that is?” you ask him with a sweet but slightly mischievous smile.

                “Vhy is zat?” he responds with a softening of the eyes.

                “Because I love you, dummkopf,” you respond, planting a kiss on his cheek.  “Now, eat your soup.”

                He chuckles and takes the bowl from you.  “Alright, alright.  Yes, ma’am,” he jokes, saluting you sarcastically.

                “Good.  You’ve finally realized that I’m always right,” you tease, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

                He watches you with sparkling blue eyes, partially from the fever and partially from amusement, as he takes a sip of the warm soup.  “I voult not say zat you are alvays right…,” he responds.

                “Oh, really?” you laugh.  “Well, what about when I taught you how to get Italy to train?  Or when I started making you guys try new foods?  Or when I bandaged you up after that surprise attack?  Or when nothing bad happened at France’s party after I told you everything would be fine?”

                “Vell, I voult not say zat nosing happenet at zat party.  You dit get attaket by Belarus,” he points out, raising an eyebrow.

                “I was fine,” you say, blowing it off.   “Besides, here’s one you can’t argue with: all those times I told you that you need to take care of yourself so you don’t get sick.”

                “Well…,” he responds sheepishly, taking another sip of the soup.

                “Exactly!” you laugh.  “I’m not saying I told you so, but…  Well, I told you so!”

                “Hey, it is partially your fault for leafink me alone for so long,” he teases, but you both flinch at the thought.  Your time hanging in limbo after the kidnapping incident is still a tender subject for the both of you, though you try to hide it through laughter.

                “Oh, I’m sure you were fine.  You guys probably didn’t even realize I was gone,” you chuckle uncomfortably.  You can’t stand thinking back on those dark days.

                “(y/n), I vant you to listen to me,” Germany says seriously, setting the now empty bowl down on the bedside table before taking your hands in his own.  You look up at him.  “I misset you efery sekont of efery day, so do not you efer sink zat you are unimportant to us.  You vere zee only sing I koult sink of all zose months.”

                You feel tears welling up in your eyes as he speaks and you turn your head away with a soft chuckle.  “Dummkopf.  You spent all that time worrying about me when you should have worried about yourself.  You’re such an idiot,” you say, somehow relieved.

                “Vell, zat just means zat I am your itiot,” Germany responds, gently brushing the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs.

                You smile over at him.  “Yeah, you’re right, you big, blonde dummy,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck.  He leans his head back against you and your kiss his hair.  You still can’t believe you’re back and you sometimes worry that you’re just dreaming, that you’ll wake up and still be stuck with that awful other version of yourself and no way to escape.  That thought terrifies you every time.

                “Schatz…,” Germany murmurs, covering one of your hands with his.  “Vhat is zee matter?”

                “I’m fine,” you whisper, feeling your body trembling.

                “You know better zan zat, Liebe,” Germany tells you, disentangling you from his neck and pulling you to face him, concern written on his flushed face and in his fever-bright eyes.  “Tell me vhat is zee matter?”

                “You’re not… going anywhere, right?” you blurt out.  “You’re not going to leave me?”

                Germany’s eyes widen in shock.  “Of kourse not!” he exclaims.  “Vhy voult I do zat?”

                You look at the floor in embarrassment, toying with your fingers.  “It’s just that… I guess I’m scared that one day I’ll get up in the morning and find out that everyone’s gone and that I’m all alone…  I’m tired of being alone,” you admit in a tiny voice.

                “Oh, mein Schatz…” Germany murmurs painfully.  He’s both surprised and unsurprised to hear those words pass your lips.  He’s suspected that you’ve been thinking of something like that, worrying about whether you’re actually safe now or if the other one is just tricking you.  He felt the same way the first time it happened to him and it still scares him now if he’s truly honest with himself.  He extends his arms and pulls you against his aching body, holding you close and stroking your hair.  “You are not alone.  You haf Japan unt Italy in zis house unt Austria, Hungary, Liechtenstein, unt your ozer frients zat life nearby.  You are efen frients vis France unt Russia.  Unt of kourse I vill alvays, alvays be here for you if you neet me.”

                You nod against him and bury your face into his chest.  You know this isn’t something you’re going to be able to easily get over, but it comforts you to know that you do have people on your side that want to help you get back on your feet.

                “I kame as soon as I hert zee news!  My baby Bruder is sick?” a loud, obnoxious, and altogether too familiar voice exclaims as the door to Germany’s bedroom flies open.  You immediately jolt away from Germany, feeling your cheeks burn red.

                “Vhat do you sink you are doink, Prussia?” Germany says with aggravation, glaring at the albino who has suddenly destoryed the relative peace of the house.

                “Kesesesese!  Zee awesome me is here to kure your sickness, Vest!” Prussia crows, puffing his chest up.

                “Nein!  You are not vantet here!  All you vill do is be lout unt break sings!” Germany tells him harshly.

                “Was?  I do not belief my awesome ears!  My baby Bruder sinks I am useless!” Prussia exclaims dramatically, a look of mock hurt on his face.  He turns to you.  “You!  (y/n)!  Schwägerin!  Tell Vest zat I kan take kare of him efen better zan zee less awesome you kan!”

                “Sch-Schwägerin?” Germany sputters, his blue eyes seeming to bug out of his skull in shock.

                “It must run in the family,” you laugh to yourself, shaking your head.  They’re both such idiots.  “Come on, Germany.  You need to rest.”

                You go over to the bedside and help Germany lower himself back down.  You pull the blankets up around his large, shivering body and lean in to kiss his cheek once more.  “Thank you,” you whisper in his ear.  “Get some sleep, Liebe.”  You pick up the empty soup bowl and walk toward the door.  “Why don’t you come with me, Prussia.  There isn’t much you can do while Germany’s sleeping, but I bet you can help me make some more soup.”

                Prussia turns to Germany with a smirk.  “Kesesesesese!  You fount yourself a goot one, Vest.  She is almost as awesome as me,” he tells him with a jaunty wink of his red eye.

                Germany looks over at you with soft eyes.  “Ja, you are right,” he murmurs.

                “Go to sleep, dummkopf,” you laugh, shooting him a teasing smile.  “Come on, Prussia.  Let’s leave him alone.”  Prussia follows you out the door, chuckling his crazy laugh all the way.  You can’t help but smile to yourself, though.

                “Ah, hello, (y/n)-san.  Prussia-san.  How is Germany-san?” Japan asks, looking up from his book when the two of you come down the stairs.

                “He’s doing a lot better, but he’s still running a fever,” you answer, dropping the bowl and spoon into the sink.

                “Ah, I see,” Japan nods, turning back to the book.  “Could it be that you are also feverish, (y/n)-san?  Your cheeks appear to be quite flushed.”

                At the mention of it, you feel your entire face blush scarlet and Prussia begins to laugh at you.  “Kesesesese!  Vhat?  Vhy are you so embarrassed, huh, (y/n)?  Your face keeps getting retter unt retter.   Is zere somesink you aren’t tellink us?  You kan tell me anysink, you know.  I vill be your Schwager one day, after all,” he teases you.

                Your face feels unbearably hot now, but he doesn’t stop.  And to make matters worse, Italy walks in.  “Ve~!  What’s the matter, (y/n)?  Your face is so red?  Are you okay?” he exclaims, fussing over you and poking your cheeks.

                “P-please stop,” you whimper to the both of them, covering your face with your hands.  Italy gets flustered by this and starts crying and panicking while Prussia just laughs and launches a new barrage of attacks on you.  In the background, Japan chuckles to himself at your antics.