2p!Hetalia Boyfriend Scenarios

01 : First Meetings

DISCLAIMER : I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS. I DO NOT OWN YOU EITHER.

[art is not mine | credit to the original artist (pls let me know so I can properly credit them)]

01 : First Meetings
A/N: This was edited on 11/18/2020 I also edited a lot more than I expected lmaOOOO but ig that means my writing has improved a lot???? lol idk AWDGHSh Hope you enjoyed the reboot kids! <3 <3 <3

FRANCOIS BONNEFOY

The music blasted to the highest volume, ringing almost a bit too painfully in the ears. A sea of people were dancing to the beat of a filthy pop song, their bodies grinding and doing other sorts of unspeakable things that would make your religious aunt explode in utter rage at the blasphemy before you. 

You, on the other hand? No, no, no. 

There you stood by the bartender amongst half-conscious drunks and sulking loners, awkwardly sitting on quite an uncomfortable stool with a glass of (f/alcoholic drink) at hand. (E/c) eyes continuing to scan through the scandalous partying crowd, you try and look for a familiar face.

See, the so called friends you had come to Poisonous Rose with were nowhere to be seen, having left you a good ten minutes after arriving at the club. They had dragged you out of the comfort of your own apartment and had insisted you should do something exciting for once, Clearly the notion of  lying in bed for Me time is not in their book, but it was certainly in yours!

There lies a sense of satisfaction in coming home from work after a long, grueling day, and just lying down, your body recharging from the abuse you plowed through during the morning and afternoon. Honestly, it's not like Paris is going anywhere else if you don't get out there to do something! 

Alas, here you were, regretting your choice of letting yourself be taken here. You should've screamed bloody murder to get them to stop carrying you into that cab. Looking down at your you outfit, you realize you didn't even get to dress up. Just they wait until tomorrow comes.

Your eyes drifted along next to you, soon meeting a pair of purplish blue ones by chance. They were pretty enchanting, if it weren't for the fact that they stared back with such an intimidating force. They belonged to a man who sat just two seats away from you, clutching a glass of bourbon in his hand. He was dressed haphazardly in a suit, as if he only decided to go here last minute after some prior appointment. 

"What are you looking at?" He grumbled, puffing smoke and causing you to cough a little. 

You shrugged in spite of the embarrassed blush that flamed across your cheeks, avoiding his gaze and looking down at your drink. Shit, was I staring for too long?

There was a moment of silence, but it was broken by the man himself. "You don't do parties, do you?" he asks, catching you off guard.

"Nah," you deny, shaking your head, "I just don't like socializing at all. I'd rather sleep around all day but my friends drag me here and left me." 

The man seems to take your words in, but a few moments later, he raises his glass a little in some form of acknowledgement. "I'm Francois Bonnefoy," he tells you.

You smiled, mirroring his actions. "(Y/N) (L/N)."

ALLEN JONES

The moon in the heavens kept a watchful eye on you as you were walking down the crowded streets of Los Angeles. The hours were getting late, but it couldn't be helped if that's what your work hours demanded. An exhausted sigh escapes your lips as you lift a hand to ease the tension you had in your shoulder joints.