Sibling!Hetalia x Sibling!Reader (one-shots)

France

Who Doesn't Love Some Baking?

Reader's POV:

I wipe the sweat from my face as I continue to stir the dough mixture over the heat of the stove. I can hear France hum behind me, working on the filling.

"Why did we decide to make éclairs? I don't even know how this works. Why am I boiling the dough mixture?" I hear France stop humming and he clicks his tongue, as if scolding me. He stands next to me, observing me work as he continues to mix the cream filling.

"But I've already explained it to you! You should really pay more attention." I pout. My stirring slows down as the dough mixture thickens up, starting to form a small ball.

"I know, I know. But you start to get off topic a lot. How am I not supposed to dose off?!" He shakes his head and hands me the bowl of cream filling. He grabs the spatula from me and starts working on the final process of the dough, transferring it into a different bowl and mixes it using an electric hand mixer. He slowly adds in the last ingredients: eggs. As he does that I start putting the cream filling into a piping bag.

"It helps release the moisture from the dough and slightly cooks the flour. This helps us get the texture we want in the éclairs." He finishes the dough and splits it into two piping bags. He hands me one and we start piping the dough onto a baking tray.

"This is a lot of work for a simple bread pastry. America's pastries are so much easier." France gasps and looks at me as if he had seen a ghost.

"EXCUSE YOU. This is a choux pastry, not some kind of bread!" He speaks to me as if I had offended the world, but I can't help but laugh. "And don't you ever compare this to America's pastries. Those pastries are NOTHING compared to mine!" My laughter gets louder as he gets slightly red in the face from anger.

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry. It's just-" Before I could continue my sentence a line of batter lands on my cheek. I stop laughing and look at France bewildered. He freaks out once he realizes what he's done and I can't help but put on a wicked grin. "So we're really gonna play this game, huh?" I chuck some of the dough towards him, some of it managing to land in his hair.

"NO! MY HAIR!" His scream overshadows my laugh. I clutch my sides, my laughter getting louder than before at the sight of him freaking out. As I catch my breath I feel a slop of dough land right on my chest. Next thing you know, we're running around our large kitchen. We try using the piping bags as water guns of sorts, but the dough is too thick to squirt out. We instead swing our bags, the dough flying everywhere. I cuss as I run out of dough. France swings and manages to get a whole bunch of it in my hair. I quickly look over the counter, trying to find something to defend myself. I see the cream filling and grab it, holding it towards France.

He freezes at the sight, staring at the cream in my hand. "You wouldn't dare." He says, still smiling at me.

"I wouldn't?" I tease, leaning back to swing the bag. He loses his smile once he realizes I'm being serious.

"Don't you dare do it! That cream will make the everything so much stickier than it is. My hair and clothes are already ruined! No more, please!"

"Then beg!" My smile widens as he glares at me. He holds up what little of dough he has left.

"Never! I shall not lose my dignity to the likes of you!"

"So you have chosen....death." He screams as I chuck almost all of the cream onto him, most of it landing on his clothes. He falls to the floor, holding his shirt out to see the damage.

"This was such a great shirt! Perfectly stylish for both comfort and work! Now it's ruined! Ruined I say!" He cries as I laugh, dropping the now useless bag onto the floor. My laughter dies down as I watch him gain a smirk. He slowly rises up from the floor, his smirk widening. I smile nervously and slightly back up.

"Uh, you alright there?" He lets out a low chuckle and I can't help but shiver at his evil look. He reaches a hand out towards me and I back up even more. With each step I take, he follows, until finally I turn around and sprint away. I let out a shriek as he follows me. I run around the kitchen, out into the living room, and back into the kitchen. I make sure not to get near anything that can stain.

"Come on [Y/N]! Brother France just wants a hug!"

"Nope nope nope nope nope no-" I feel something slippery under my foot and I end up tripping. I fall to the floor, knocking the wind out of me from the impact. I let out a groan and sit up. I look behind me and glare at what I tripped on, seeing it was the bag of cream from earlier. I look up to see France still running towards me. "Shit." I whisper and before I can stand up, I'm tackled to the floor. France restricts me in a hug. I cringe at the feeling of the cream seeping onto the my clothes, making it all sticky and wet. I laugh as France presses his cheek onto mine, rubbing the dough onto my own, his beard scratching me in the process.

"Ew dude, gross." I complain, but France just presses harder against my cheek, clearly happy to annoy me. I manage to free an arm and push his face away, laughing as he tries to get back. Finally he stops and lets go of me. We sit on the floor and look around the kitchen. France lets out a whimper but a smile still remains on his face.

"My poor, poor kitchen. Look at what you've done." I laugh and push him, causing him to laugh and try to push me back.

"Oh shut up, you started this." I stand up and try to get most of the dough and cream off me, throwing it onto the floor. France stands up and follows my lean, using napkins from nearby instead of his hands. I lean against the counter and look at the damage. "Sorry about this though. We wasted our time."

France walks up to me and rests a hand on my shoulder, we both cringe for a quick second as he presses some cream right through my shirt. "Ah, its alright. It's always fun to hang out with you. Even when you destroy my clothing." He shudders at the last sentence. I laugh at him and walk over to where we keep out cleaning supplies.

"C'mon," I call out to him and he follows me, still using some napkins to wipe the dough from his hair. "Let's get cleaning." I hand him some towels and a mop, carrying my own set of towels, a bucket, and some other cleaning supplies. He instead sets them down in the kitchen and walks away. "Hey! What are you doing?"

"I'm going to change first. You can't expect me to be all sticky and gross while we clean, do you? You should change too, we'll take a shower after we clean." I ponder over it for a bit before shrugging and agreeing with him. I put down the cleaning supplies and head to my room to get changed. Once done I head back to the kitchen to see France waiting for me. I raise a brow at him and smirk.

"You got dressed fast." He shrugs and smiles, picking up the bucket to fill it with water.

"I wanted to get started. My kitchen couldn't wait a second more to be sparkly and clean again." I laugh and grab the appropriate soap needed. We begin cleaning. The goop of dough and cream makes France cringe every time we have to pick it up to throw away properly in it's own bag.

"For a baker, you sure don't like the dough." He grimaces as he scoops more of the dough into the bag.

"This dough and cream is all slimey from the soap and water. It's ruined, how am I not supposed to cringe?" We continue cleaning and France starts singing from boredom. While cleaning, we hear a knock at the door. I look at it questioningly before looking at France.

"Were we expecting company?" He thinks for a bit before cussing under his breath. He laughs sheepishly and looks back at me.

"I forgot I invited Morocco over, oops." I smile and shake my head at him. I continue to clean as he heads over to let Morocco in.

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1502 words

Published: August 11, 2020

School has started and it's all online. Since school has started, my updates will be slowing down. I'm gonna update once a week now, probably weekends.

Stay safe and for the love of all that is mighty, wear a fucking mask when outside please. School is online and I have to miss out on so much stuff this year, stuff I won't be able to experience ever again, all because my stupid country couldn't wear a mask for a few fucking months. Wear your mask when outside and wash your hands you sickos