Hetalia x Male Reader

France x Male Reader (Fluff/Lime-ish Master/Slave AU)

The Frenchman could be found in the basement, looking desperately at his empty canvas.

The basement had of course been cleaned down, no more dirty, wet cellar. Francis didn't like thinking about the things that had been going on down there, especially not after (M/N) had explained it all to him, ending with the smaller boy in tear. Francis had taken a liking to the male, so of course it hurt him to see (M/N) pained like that.

The hesitant (Brunette, Blond, Ravenette, Crimsonette, Ginger..) had never liked going to the basement, not even if Francis went with him. He would whimper as well as cling to Francis, even if the Frenchman only wished to show him his paintings.

Francis had gotten rid of the remaining furniture that had been in the cellar as well as the handcuffs that had been build into the wall. Francis had sighed as he had removed them, although (M/N) looked at him with not so flickering, happy eyes, so to Francis it was worth all his efforts.

Although Francis had had little to no inspiration since (M/N) had started living with him.

He wouldn't blame the boy, but there was just so many things he didn't know or understand, causing Francis to constantly have to look after him, care for him and promise him he wouldn't leave, nor become mad at him when he had done something the wrong way.

After staring at the canvas for a few more minutes, Francis had stood up, packing away his expensive paint as well as the dull canvas. He looked at the room in defeat, a hand going to his face as he gently rubbed his eyes and face before letting the same hand go through his slightly tangled blond locks.

Francis let out another sigh before stepping onto the staircase, walking upstairs and towards the kitchen.

(M/N) was standing in the kitchen in a big sweatshirt, a pair of oversized sweatpants. He also had a small apron around his slim waist, humming softly to the tune of the radio playing.

He was making some food, Francis couldn't exactly tell what, as (M/N) wasn't the best cook, not yet at least. It was most likely a sandwich, at least that's what Francis guessed as he turned his head towards the other male, who was happily swinging the knife around as he tried to butter the bread.

Francis let out a small sigh before walking over behind him and grabbing the knife out of (M/N)'s hand as it swung in the air, almost stabbing Francis.

(M/N) whimpered a little as Francis took the knife away from him, once again afraid he might have gotten mad. Although the Frenchman wasn't mad and instead pulled a small smile as he placed a hand over (M/N)'s hand, grabbing the knife as the two now buttered the piece of white bread together.

"See, like this, okay (M/N)?" Francis asked, his voice deep yet calm as he made (M/N) nod. "Y-Yes, Master.." (M/N) whispered, not audible to Francis, who was trying to get (M/N) to call him his name instead of 'Master'.

Francis had sent the other a small smile before letting him finish.

It was quite time consuming as well as hard. Francis wasn't the youngest of men, but he didn't mind. (M/N) had made so much progress and at some point Francis had spend a whole day in bed with the boy, telling him and constantly reassuring him how proud he had made Francis.

Although old habits die hard, a saying that was especially true about the (Brunette, Blond, Ravenette, Crimsonette, Ginger..) boy.

Francis had admitted multiple times that (M/N) was doing a lot of progress, although one habit was one the boy wouldn't let go. Every time Francis looked just a little down or a little frustrated, (M/N) would always go back to the same method of trying to help him get better. It would always be about pleasuring Francis, (M/N) doing everything his body allowed him to help the male the best and only way he knew.