2p!Hetalia Boyfriend Scenarios

06 : In Good Mornings

06: In Good Mornings
A/N: This was edited on 11/29/2020-01/27/2021! LMAOOO HELLO!!! I'm back again with the edits!!! I apologize for taking so longgg ksdfkhads I was busy with a lot of shit, but here's some fluff for y'all!

FRANCOIS BONNEFOY

It was a hilarity, really, that the perpetually tired and sleepy Frenchman almost always wakes up before you. Perhaps, it was a force of habit—something his body and mind had gone so used to from the cycle of his immortal life that it barely affects him at this point. Perhaps, it was also the fact that he couldn't actually find it in himself to properly sleep at times, too occupied with things to even make it to dreamland.

Either way, with you lying next to him still fast asleep, Francois is able to find himself a moment of peace from his troubles. As he often does, he gazes down at your figure currently curling into his, your body clad in pajamas that were printed with a ridiculous pattern.

Moments later, you'd begin to shift, waking up from the sunlight filtering through the windows, no doubt. A groan leaves your lips, body instinctively turning away from the light and, consequently, your boyfriend in order to grapple your precious sleep back into you.

It was nearing noon, if he were to guess, and, surely, even if it was a schedule-free Sunday, the two of you would be reasonable enough to get up. He starts his attempts to wheedle you from slumber with a hand sneaking beneath the fabric of the shirt you wore, drawing shapes onto your skin to distract you from going back to sleep. He then rests on his side to lean over your ears. 

"It's time to wake up, ma cherie. I want to see that beautiful face of yours"

You stifle a lazed giggle, finding his words funny. "Nice try, Francois," you tell him, voice muffled by the pillow you burrowed your face into. "I don't want to get up just yet."

The Frenchman himself chuckles, before joining you in facing away from the light, his arm draping over your figure and his face burying itself into your hair. "It was worth a try, I suppose," he says, feigning a sigh in defeat and earning himself another amused giggle from you.

The two of you will just have to get up later then.

ALLEN JONES

In the early hours of a Saturday morning, the two of you lay in bed—in peace and in utter content, limbs entangled together and all. Sleep was greatly welcomed for your exhausted self—and you would sleep the day away if you could.

Alas, a familiar tune rings through the room—a harbinger of reality descending upon you to remind you of the responsibilities you've put aside the night before. No matter how hard you try to ignore the alarm, it bests you. 

Your eyes opened and you let out a yawn. As you tried to get up, you noticed his arms tightly wrapped around your waist. "Al," you mumbled, still sleepy. You continued to shake him and just decided to push him off the bed.

"Good morning to you too, doll"

The gesture earns you a pained groan from your boyfriend, but you couldn't really care, you were far too occupied gathering enough motivation to actually wake up, turn the alarm off, and check the time. You sat up from the bed, slumping as you tried to shake the sleep away from your system.

"Shit," you murmur with a sigh upon seeing the digits that your phone tells you. "I gotta get started on that thing soon," you say with such disdain, "need more time to work."

Need more time to not let procrastination to get a hold of me.

You felt the bed dip next to you, Allen returning to his claim of the bed as he rubbed the side of his hip that had taken the hit from the fall. He was disgruntled, feeling betrayed by the audacity of you waking him up with a kick instead of a kiss.