France X Reader (Oneshot)
"Good Morning, Love."
(A/N: This is a fluff intended fanfic. Meaning full of marshmallowey fluffiness. Human and Country names used. Hope you like the first ever fic that I posted in DA. Sorry if it sucks. ;.; )
It was a quiet early morning. The sun was shining brightly through the bedroom window. Lighting up the room. The light slightly blinding, but offering a comforting warmth. You turn to your right, to see your French lover still deep in sleep. Not wanting to disturb him as he was quite tired from yesterday's... ahem.... "activities". You decided you would just prepare some breakfast while waiting for him to wake up.
You slowly get off the bed, carefully as you try not to disturb the Frenchman asleep next to you. You reach for the nearest article of clothing, which happened to be France's shirt. You wore it and buttoned the middle button and slipped into a new pair of underwear and shorts before heading downstairs to the kitchen.
'What to eat..... I can't cook without Francis watching over me in the kitchen. Or else I'll burn the kitchen...... Again.' You sigh at the thought of that previous and unfortunate incident.
You were simply cooking pasta for some visitors. But to tell you the truth you had it coming, for you had no experience in the kitchen whatsoever. You simply decided to 'wing-it' saying to yourself, 'I've watched enough coking shows, it looks pretty simple.' Let's just say you haven't watched enough cooking shows. And the whole thing burst in to flames. You had nearly burnt down the house, luckily the fire was put out before it did happen. Sometimes you wonder if England was actually a better cook than you. You shuddered at the thought.
'Am I THAT bad?' You asked yourself as you looked into a cupboard for a bowl, as you decided you would settle for cereal. 'Maybe I should suck it up and ask Francis to teach me how to cook... I mean sooner or later, fast food delivery is going to kill me. I should learn to cook for myself if France isn't around.'
As you contemplate over whether or not you would ask France to teach you how to cook. Said Frenchman had finally woken up. And wondering why the bed was empty, decided to go downstairs in search of you. Then as he quietly snuck downstairs, he saw you, your back facing him, and a thought came into his mind. 'Why not scare (name)?'
You gasped softly in shock as a pair of unexpected arms snaked around your waist pulling you to their source. "Bonjour, mon amour.~"
"God France... You scared me." You said before facing him, a slightly annoyed looked on your face.
"Désolé, (Name). It's just left me all alone upstairs." He says softly in your ear, an apologetic look donned on his face. Of course you couldn't get mad at that face, but now wanting to show that he got to you, you simply try to keep a straight face.
Pulling away from his embrace, you go back to making breakfast while replying as you got the milk from the fridge. "Well I didn't want to disturb you, so I went downstairs. And decided to find something to eat while I was at it. That's all."
He frowned slightly, because you weren't paying much attention to him. (In truth you paid a LOT of attention to him last night. So he has no excuse to complain.) Obviously annoyed at your ignorance to his desires, he picks you up, carrying you bridal style. Kissing you softly on the lips, indicating how much he wanted you.
You rolled your eyes, and sighed to yourself. It was like every usual morning you spent with France. A sweet, soft, harmless kiss. Leading to something... something not as "harmless".
Not that you did mind of course.~
"(N-name)?!?!? How could you burn cereal?!!? IN MILK?!? Mon Dieu...."