Hetalia x Reader- UTTER CRACK

CRACK 1

Hetalia x Reader- UTTER CRACK
*HORRIBLE ATTEMPTS AT ACCENTS AND NOTHING MAKES SENSE AT THE END. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED*
~
"Hey ____!"
You groaned, placing a hand on your forehead.
What the hell happened last night?
You attempted to sit up, only to find that a certain pair of arms was wrapped around your waist, tugging you back down effortlessly like you were a body pillow.
"What the-AAH!"
Your morning welcome turned out to be Alfred F. Jones, still sound asleep as he drooled on your neck and shoulder. You face palmed.
"Damn it Alfred..."
"HEY ____!!"
An obnoxiously loud albino burst into your bedroom, quite literally. He slammed the door open so hard that your wall now had cracks in them; the booming sound effectively scaring you shitless in the process.
"AAAHHHJESUSFUCK-TARDS!!!"
You stared at him, wide-eyed in bewilderment.
As he was panting, you were both having a staring contest in the silence, waiting for the other to say something. When he regained his breath his eyes turned wide at something behind you and started laughing like a maniac. He could barely breathe but managed a:
"How lucky did you get last night?"
You blinked.
Wat.
"What do you...?"
You looked down at Alfred, then at the blanket fully covering your bed... mostly. You supposed this was why you were too close to Alfred at the moment. Then you looked down at yourself.
Relieved sigh. Thankfully, you were in your pajamas.
Both of you.
Yet again, you were surprised as you tore back the blanket. Feliciano was lying right on top of you, his head almost lost in your breasts and murmuring about food. Your face flushed at this. How you didn't notice his weight from when you tried to sit up to now was beyond you, but then you realized that now you were painfully (and quite literally) aware of the heat that radiated off him and onto your upper torso.
Then you looked over and saw Ivan on your left, staring right at you; like he never fell asleep and was awake this whole time.
And then there was "Grandpa" Rome, as he liked to be called oddly, on Ivan's right. He was also staring, except... he was posing and winking suggestively at you. And he was only in his armor.
God knows if that was his only layer...
And since you were almost right next to him (since Alfred was pulling you back to his edge) and he vaguely reminded you of France for a split second, well... that was when you screamed; of pure terror and shock. You were honestly frightened of your virginity card at this point.
You scowled when you heard the annoying Prussian double over in the background.
Italy stirred, and you paused, snapping your attention back to him in alert, realizing he was unconsciously diving deeper into your... ahem... upper chest... area... and more incoherent phrases spilling out.
And then you felt his voice rumble through your chest.
Oh dear god.
You sucked in a breath and your whole body froze, as if you thought time could stop at any moment and the whole world would cave in on itself and poof out of existence; just because you would breath the wrong way.
You may, or may not, have inwardly enjoyed this.
"Bella?"
Italy's head rose, his eyes opened for a split second before they fluttered open and closed in a groggily manner at you. When his body allowed him to see, he fully exposed his honey-colored orbs to you.
Nope. You were totally wrong.
The entire world had exploded.
And possibly, you were in heaven.
"Ve~ Good morning, bella~" He cooed, planting a light kiss on your nose like it was daily routine. You graduated to a tomato; full-on red. You were at a loss for words at this point. It was like your throat ran dry.
"Oh Feliciano~! You've grown up so well my grandson!"
Feli blinked, only for a second, and looked over to Rome. He closed his eyes and smile broke across his face. And he instantly squealed in what seemed to be pure joy. "GRANDPA ROME!" In the next instant he jumped onto said relative for a hug... well... glomped, more or less. For you, it was no doubt a fangirl moment.
You blinked as you were (finally) able to sit up (somewhat) and met eyes with the Russian. He smiled in a manner that could only be described as creepy. Very creepily. A chill surged down your spine and you visibly shivered, but never broke the growing intense gaze. You started to feel his dark aura tighten its hold around you, whispering to fall into its deadly trance or suck you in...
Until Alfred fidgeted; grabbing your attention....
And pulled you down on top of him.
You squeaked in surprise. And pink swiftly dusted your cheeks.
In this position his face was on your neck, and you could've sworn he smiled into your skin, as if he knew what he was doing; fully awake to your responses.
Oh, if he knew the things he was doing to you...
Then he started mumbling.
"....Oh, b-mhmm...... soo satisfying......"
...what was going on?!...
He moaned.
You froze; your face threatening to grow darker.
Why did that sound like a throaty moan?..
"A-A-Al-l-.. f-freed..." You stuttered, fearing what he was thinking.
He did it again.
Yep, that was definitely a throaty moan.
And then he licked the side of your neck. But when he playfully bit that very spot, a spot you knew for certain that he SHOULDN'T have known about at ALL, it tipped you over the edge.
Now wide eyed, you squeaked, and completely freaked the fuck out. Just a mere red spluttering mess, struggling for your innocence, you were worried that either the American wanted to do this to you, or he thought you were a tasty treat. Like a sweet cupcake dream. You definitely did not want to feel his 'present' he would have for you if his 'imaginations' went on any longer.
Oh god you hoped it wasn't the latter.
"ALFRED!!"
"Hmm..?"
He blinked tiredly, as if he had no idea what just happened and what he just put you through; softly yawning before settling his sight on your flustered expression and smiled contently.
Like hell he didn't know what he was doing.
"Mornin',____." Alfred said casually.
"Okay.. what-what happened last night?" You placed your palm to your forehead, trying to rub away the weirdness occurring in your bedroom.
"We had a party yesterday; remember babe?" Alfred cooed, his hands on your hips as they softly rocked you from side to side since you were somewhat straddling him from your weak struggles. But now all you wanted was to get this crazy morning out of your mind, and relieve this pounding headache and blush that had appeared to taunt you. So all you did was silently accept the way the American now rubbed soothing circles on your sides and trying to piece together information of last night with the clues you had in front of you. Surprisingly, you didn't have a hangover, but you sure felt like you did.
"Everyone was drunk and having a fun time, da?"
Everyone turned toward Russia's voice, stuck in a deadly silence. Even Gilbert stopped cold. Italy was the first to react on the spot.
"WAAAAHHH! I'M-A SORRY PLEASE DON'T-A HURT ME OR GRANDPA ROME SCARY MAN PLEASE DON'T KILL ME I'M-A ONLY A VIRGIN!! WHITE FLAG VE!! WHITE FLAG!!!"
He jumped behind his grandpa, waving a white flag that he pulled out of his boxers and shaking uncontrollably.
And then after that came America's reaction...
....which was shoving you in front of him and gripping your arms as a shield, trembling and nervously laughing with the awkward tension filling the air... or... bed... I suppose....
"AH! I'M SORRY, DUDE! I WON'T PRANK YOU LIKE THAT LAST TIME AGAIN I SWEAR I PROMISE DUDE!!!"
You cast confusing glance over your shoulder at your "heroic" friend; wondering what the hell he was talking about.
A part of you didn't want to know.
In your view you noticed how Gilbert was hunched over with a hand to his mouth, the other gripping at his sides as he snickered behind his palm with his signature laugh.
He was staring at you with amusement shining in his eyes, and in turn you narrowed yours at him.
"Prussia," Using your words carefully, "what happened at the party?"
"How should I know, frau? Everyone was drunk."
Oh you were totally done with this shit.
You jumped over Alfred, ignoring his whining protests that 'it was too early to leave the "hero"', and adjusted your clothes, muttering in a lowly tone.
"Gil, I swear to god if you broke something..."
Laughing, he dismissed your comment with a certain waving motion of his hand.
"Nonsense frau. Ze awesome me would never be zhat cruel to you." He took your hand and pulled you out of your room, but not without hearing Alfred's begging for you to 'come back and save 'the hero' from the scary commie' and Italy's cries of despair.
You blushed at the warmth of the Prussian's hand on yours, but when you noticed him smirking at you over his shoulder, you shook your head vigorously and tried to hide behind the loose strands of your tussled hair that now hung in your face. This earned an amused smile from Prussia; now leading you toward the stairs.
He let go when he had jumped off the last step and was planted firmly on the ground floor, smiling proudly. You stumbled a bit after him from the sudden loss of contact, and tilted your head in confusion at him before your eyes met his direction, and your mouth dropped.
There, in your living room, was Britain and France; sleeping on your couch. England was wearing his 'waiter uniform'; if you could even call it that. France, surprisingly, was wearing clothes (thank god). Even though he was only wearing pants and a button up shirt that was not using its purpose, in fact it was hanging off his arms.
You sighed to yourself, relieved that everyone (so far) did not become "fully nude" during the midnight hours. Thus, concluding that last night was pretty tame.
The best part was how they ended up sleeping together. Let's just say their positons were not-so appropriate, but so beautiful that it deserves to be remembered forever.
Oh, if only you had your camera.
Prussia saw your reaction and smirked.
It was only then you realized there were sounds like light clatters coming from your kitchen. You popped your head in to find Canada and Germany humming to themselves wearing pink aprons. Germany was at your stove cooking flipping sausages and Canada was sprinkling a light powder of something on a fairly moderate stack of pancakes at one of your kitchen counters.
You cleared your throat. "Good morning, boys." The look on their faces was priceless when they noticed you were standing there for god knows how long. Well, Ludwig's, that is. Canada simply turned away due to nervousness. They greeted you with a roll of their accents and went back to their tasks.
"Do you guys know about...?" You trailed off as you pointed a thumb behind you towards your living room, where Prussia was shaking a can of whipped cream and stalking closer to the European pair with an evil smirk. Ludwig looked at you for a moment, before he looked back down and flipped another sausage. "Ja. Last night vas vild."
"I know," You sighed exasperatedly, "but... what happened exactly?" You momentarily looked back and saw Gilbert desperately trying to cover up his snickers, but you made a double take at your living room window and blinked.
Was...was that Japan... with a camera...? I-It wasn't one of THOSE nights...... was it?
Oh God.
Well, at least he'll capture a beautiful moment...
Germany stared at you, puzzled.
"You don't remember?.."
You nodded, and decided to get a drink of water. You furrowed your brows, thinking back at how you felt when you woke up.
"All I know is I had an awful headache this morning, but I wasn't hung over."
The German sighed and turned back around, saying nothing more. You sighed, walking over to your island counter and sitting at the stool you placed there, body hunched over the tiled surface with your head in your hands.
"I'm so confused..." You muttered to yourself as Matthew walked over to you with a plate in his hands.
"Hi, ____. I thought you might like some pancakes." He whispered, slowly sliding the plate of pancakes in front of you. You couldn't help but inwardly squeal at how delicious the dish looked and at Canada's worried but cute expression he wore.
"Aww, I'd love some. Thank you, Canada!" You thanked him kindly, accepting the fork and butter knife he held out in a shy manner. "N-no problem, ____..." He furiously blushed when your hands brushed his, but you didn't notice, of course. Matthew turned back to the counter to set up other plates.
"I did it West!" Prussia shouted happily, jumping into the kitchen. You heard his brother grunt in annoyance over the sizzling noise in the pan. "Did what, bruder?"
"I've got blackmail!"
"VHAT?!"
"On France! And that Britain!"
"Gilbert..."
"Vhat do you... oh, ____!"
You waved a hello to him, since you were chewing some pancake goodness. He ran over to you, shaking the arm you held your fork in.
"Frau! You've got to come see this!"
Before you could respond, the Prussian dragged you out of your seat and away from your scrumptious meal. You could hear Ludwig grumbling under his breath, probably cursing his brother for his 'stupid plans'.
It was more hilarious than you expected.
For Arthur, there was a French moustache, baguette, and a rose crudely drawn in what you assumed was black Sharpie on his face. Francis had the same thing, except there was a top hat, monocle, and different type of moustache on his face. Both of their open chests had been smeared with large amounts of whipped cream and glitter, but had let enough room for anyone to see the clear ink scribbled on their skin: 'FrUK WAS HERE'. And all over Arthur's legs was the chant: 'BRITINLIKES LOVES FROGS', as well as Francis': 'FRANCE LUVES SHEEP'.
It made you laugh at how Prussia didn't know how to spell Britain.
But you didn't correct him, either.
Suddenly, you both jumped up in surprise when there was a very loud 'BANG' coming from outside. You caught a glimpse of France falling onto the floor after that, and England just face-planted into the couch with his barely-covered ass in the air.
Prussia tried his best to keep his snickers to a minimum as he took a picture of the two and furiously tapped his phone; texting Spain to: 'GET OVER HERE RIGHT NAOW MEIN FREUIND. HELP ME TEA BAG THEM BEFORE THEY WAKE UP.'
Along with the picture, of course.
"What the hell," You grumble, stomping toward your front door.
You threw it open to reveal...
Japan skipping gaily.
...
What?
You squinted your eyes, and then realized that Italy was with him.
"yEAH! That's a-it, Japan! I-a can't even-a tell that your-a really Japanese right now-a. Ve~"
You were about to question them when you heard music playing somewhere behind you. This would've not been important except for the fact that it felt like it was playing right next to you. Holy god was that loud.
You swiftly turned on your heel only to have your jaw drop.
There, Austria sat on his piano stool, playing his heart out and in his own little world. His fingers moved gracefully over the piano keys; and it was hands-down one of the most beautiful pieces of music you've ever heard in your life.
And he was on your roof.
"HOW THE FUCK DID AUSTRIA GET ON MY ROOF WITH A PIANO!!!!" You passionately bellowed out; ready to rip your hair out over the fact that if Austria's piano went through your roof, your insurance company would kill you. Or totally abandon you. Not to mention that there were still other people in the house as well.
"AUSTRIA! THERE YOU ARE!" A Hungarian voice shouted not too far in the distance, running toward your house with her trusty frying pan in hand.
"WHAT IS MY LIFE." You finally broke; falling onto your knees and sobbing all your frustrations out.
Not too far above your house a UFO could be seen hovering; Tony popped his head out and said: "I don't fucking know either, bitch."
The End~