1001 lovers (Hetalia x reader)

First day: Part 1

Hey guys! I am happy to announce that I am writing a Hetalia x reader fanfic. You can comment your favorite characters and I will make sure to include them. Hope you enjoy!

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"Honey, it's time to wake up. Don't want to be late for your first day of high school," your grandma calls from the bottom of the stair case.

You slam your face into your pillow.

"I don't want to go," you groan.

Your grandma sighs. "What if I make you a latte for you to drink on the way?"

"Just don't put anything bad in it."

You struggle to get out of bed and then ten minutes later put on (favorite outfit). In exactly 45 minutes you are ready.

"That outfit looks good on you," your grandma remarks.

"Thanks."

She hands you a latte, as promised, and drives you to school. When you arrive at the school your grandma gives you some advice.

"Remember, if someone tries to bully you, hold your head up high and pick pocket their wallet."

"Are you feeling alright,?" You ask.

"I'm just kidding. Have a great first day."

"Bye."

You are nervous when you walk up to the front doors. It is the middle of January and school started in September. If only you didn't have to move to this isolated island in the middle of the year.

The second you step inside the building a guy with blonde hair runs up to you.

"Bonjour Madame, are you new around here? I haven't met you before and I know ALL the ladies," he says.

"Um, yeah..." You weren't expecting a greeting quite like this.

"So, what's your na-"

Just then another person walks towards you. He has glasses and looks annoying.

"Hey France, do you have another girlfriend? Wow, a pretty one this time."

"America, no interrupting." The guy known as France puts his hand up.

"Oh I'm sorry, were you about to recite a pick up line,?" America teases.

"Maybe. Anyway, what was your name again,?" France asks.

"(Y/N)," you say in almost a whisper.

"Ah, a pretty name. Just like your face," he replies.

"France stop flirting vith every single girl you see. I'm surprises you haven't scared all of zhem away," yet another guy says.

The person who just arrived goes up to you.

"Stay away from France, he's zhe biggest flirt you will ever meet. It's better to just stay away from him," he tells you in a thick German accent.

France crosses his arms and mutters, "That's not nice."

"Germany! There you are! I was-a looking all over for you," an enthusiastic Italian voice shouts from the other side of the hallway.

You assume that the guy who told you to stay away from France is called Germany.

Germany pretends to ignore the Italian who is now standing right beside him.

"Who is this,?" He asks, pointing to you.

"I'm (Y/N)," you say.

"Beautiful name! Very nice to meet you, bella. I'm Italy!"

"Nice to meet you, too," you respond.

"Would you-a like me to give you a tour of this place?"

"Sure."

Italy gives you a tour of the school and insists that Germany comes. You walk down through the hallways and Italy tells you everything you need to know about the school. Maybe even more than you would like to know.

Italy stands in front of a glass case with trophies and pictures of the schools football team.

"And these are the football players with nice butts. I mean-ugh- I'm n-not gay, I have a girlfriend. Her name is Germany," he stutters.

"I remembered there's something I have to do. Nice meeting you, (Y/N)." In an instant Germany is gone.

Italy stares off in the direction that Germany ran away in.

"Was it something I said?"