One day while walking home from school, you was stopped by a homeless man who was blind. You gave him some change and he thanked you for it. As you continued to walk home, you accidentally bump into a tall blonde, blue-eyed man.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Are you okay, mademoiselle?” the man asked with a thick French accent.
“Y-yeah. Thanks for asking,” you replied, smiling a bit and also blushing about the fact that he was handsome and that he was French.
‘Oh, my gosh, he’s so cute!’ you thought. ‘Snap out of it, (y/n)! You gotta get home before your father worries!’
“Are you heading somewhere? If so, do you need a ride to get there?” he asks, unlocking his car for you and you got in, even though you don’t know his name.
“So, belle, where are you going?” the man asked. “And I didn’t get your name, either.”
“I-I’m (y/n),” you said.
“Nice to meet you, miss (y/n). I’m France. You can call me Francis. Either way, you know me,” Francis said with a small smile.
“Nice to meet you too France,” you replied, yawning a bit.
As you were falling asleep, Francis noticed that you was asleep so he started singing (f/s) by (f/a) in French, which made you smile. As he finished singing, you took hold of his free hand that wasn’t on the wheel. France smiled a bit and as you both pulled into his driveway, he parked the car, got out, went to your side of the car, picked you up bridal-style and took you inside.
“I’ll let you sleep here for the night since you’re tired, okay?” France told me and you nodded. He layed you on his bed, and you asked him for pajamas. France granted it, got you a shirt that was bigger than the shirt that you were wearing, and he let you change into it. He came back in to see you in the over-sized shirt. You blushed a bit yet France seemed unfazed of how sexual this was. The Frenchman came to the bed in his pajamas and you nuzzled my face into the crook of his neck, and he smiled when you did it.
“Why did you come ‘ere, miss (y/n)?” Francis asks me quietly, which sent shudders up your spine every time he spoke to you. “More importantly, how did you get ‘ere?”
“To be honest, I don’t know how or why I’m here,” you replied, rolling some of his blonde locks in your fingers and he smiles when you do it, making you giggle a little.
“Well, since you’re ‘ere with moi,” he whispers, “will you go out with me? It would mean a lot to me if you did.”
You smile and nod, hugging him and kissing him deeply. He kisses back with the same deepness that you’re doing, then somehow he got the over-sized shirt over your head and tossed it to the side, leaving you in your French flag underwear and bra. You blush as red as one of Spain’s tomatoes as you cover yourself with your arms, but Francis moved your arms.
“Beautiful…,” he mutters before taking the bra and underwear off.
You squeak at the cold air that hits your body then Francis starts kissing your neck, making you moan softly. He smirks as he continues. You continue to moan softly as said Frenchman leaves a mark on your neck, marking you as his. You feel where he left the mark and yelped slightly, not knowing what your father will say.
“I-I think I need to go,” you stutter as you get up from the bed, find your clothes and head to a bathroom, closing and locking the door, and start to get into your normal clothes as the Frenchman tries to open the door so he can comfort you, but you decide to go out the window and head home from there. Once out the window, you run as fast as your legs would allow you to, and reach the safety of your home as you head upstairs to your room. You hear your father call out to you, but you don’t respond to him as your phone goes off, knowing that a certain Frenchman has your number and has started to contact you. You quickly deny the call and turn the ringer off so your father doesn’t hear it go off and you hide it under your pillow to not let the light show if and when your father comes into your room.
With a sigh, you plop onto your (f/c) blanket that has (s/f/c) polka dots and swirls and stars. You fall asleep within a few minutes and sleep through the whole night, not even having a dream about Francis. Once your alarm clock hit 6:15 in the morning, you turn the alarm off, get up and head downstairs after covering the mark up.
“(Y/n), why do you have (f/c) scarf on?” your father questions, pointing to said scarf.
You fake a cough and tell your father that you have bronchitis and suggest that you stay home from school that day. Your father takes the bait and lets you stay home. Once he left for work, you plop back onto your bed and watch (f/an) that your friend (friend’s name) suggested when you were at lunch at school. You continue to watch the said anime, not knowing that a certain Frenchman was watching you as well as taking pictures of you while you watched your show.