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First TimeFrance can still remember the first time he had sex.First Time by CultureShockInBerlin
Most speculate it was with his first crush, Scotland. Or with his lifelong frienemy, England. Maybe he laid twenty toes with Prussia? Perhaps he was vulgar and perverse and took his young ward, Canada. There could have been some fooling around during America's revolution (and his own). Spain's oblivious nature taken advantage of? Then there was little Italy and his naïve curiosity. And let's not forget his strange relationship with Romano; surely this could be a viable reason for the boy to fear him so?
But these are all theories.
None are correct.
Despite this, people will still claim 'how it went down'. Romantically, they say, France the country of passion must have claimed or been claimed on rose petals, sheets woven from silk, a beautiful candlelight accenting the mood. Love would blossom, spread its roots and bind the country to the act, budding into desire before blooming into lust. Why else would France seek partners so m
Unsent LetterUnsent LetterUnsent Letter by lestat1991
For: Arthur Kirkland
Mon Cher, Arthur Kirkland,
I want to apologize you for everything, mon cher. I never hated you. I do not even now. I have always loved you. And I still do. Everything I said about you in front of other countries- it was just denying I so loved you. I didn’t want to show my feelings in front of others. I pretended to be number one rival. But the truth is different…
Remember the time when ma mère introduced moi to your mère? I am sorry I was so arrogant little boy. The truth is I fell in love with you from this first moment. You were different. So wild, dirty, without any manières, non-Christian, rude, holding dirty bunny in hands and speaking with your imaginary friends. Oui, I can see them. You were like different side of moi. Like Yin and Yang. Your hair was tossed, and your eyebrows… I never saw such hairy man in my life. A wild man. I already imagined you an adult. I saw the
APH Christmas: For Monaco...The night fell over Paris, the streets were enlightened with its most beautiful colors as snow gently fell on the rooftops, the monuments, the avenues Winter was here, Christmas Eve was here.APH Christmas: For Monaco... by So-french-so-fresh
In the 16th district of the French capital lived a man, Francis, who was loved and cherished of all (except of a certain brit, bet whatever.). He lived alone, he was a lazy worker but he always had what he wanted.
But tonight, he wasn't alone; he was with the woman he loved more than all.
The young Monacan was sitting on the couch near the fireplace, looking at the blond man as he brought a bottle of Champagne, filled both tall wine glasses with the golden, bubbly liquid, and handed one to her. She smiled as her host placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and blushed as he whispered sweet French nothings in her ear.
Sure Francis had a bad reputation, but he was always the sweetest man ever when he was with Emilie. She made him smile and laugh as much as he made her giggle
30th May "..Dammit " Francis uttered as he clenched his hands against his ears, trying his best to block out the deafening screams that were echoing through his head. "The wine is supposed to help not make it worse," the aggravated French nation threw his wine glass against the far wall before he began to stare at the context of the wine bottle's label.30th May by AlexanderGoodEnough
Today was May 30th, and the only thing the Frenchman decided to be happy about was the fact that he didn't have to attend any useless meetings today. The thought of him having to walk into another poorly decorated office room to discuss the problems that plagued this earth and how, no matter how many meetings were held, they would never be fixed, scuttled across his mind. France sat there, thinking blankly of this before a sudden image propped itself up in his thoughts. Chugging down more wine, he shoved the thoughts from his h
Promise Of An Iris Ch 9Promise Of An Iris Ch 9 by TheMaidenOfOrleans
The door the basement swings open and Jeanne glances to the light her eyes fall on Russia as he begins to descend down the steps he grins at his captured prize, fear courses through Jeanne's body as he comes closer to her. He cups her face into his gloved hand "Privet, Little Angel... Now let's get to business shall we?..." he says before taking off his coat and preparing to start the torture.
He was determined to get information out of her. "I told you before! I will not speak a word of my time in heaven! Release me at once!" she snaps Russia ignores her "Your lil France is no match for me so I am not worried, also Jeanne I will awaken your powers. And you will become my perfect weapon." he says darkly her eyes grow wide, he wanted to use her?
Francis stands before Jeanne's house, an elderly woman approaches him and she looks up at him. "Miss Orleans... She... was taken by four men.... One had cold violet eyes... I think it was Monsiuer Russia..." she says to France worryin
Promise of An Iris Ch 11Promise of An Iris Ch 11 by TheMaidenOfOrleans
Chapter 11: A Dream come true
A gust of cold wind made a howl as snow began to fall from the heavens once again, Francis stares at the field where the irises grew every spring. He was bundled up in a navy blue wool coat, his golden blond hair was tied by a deep blue ribbon a gift he received from his beloved Jeanne.
Heartache filled his soul, he just couldn't be without her. He missed her so much he wished she would return to him once again, he watches as his breathe becomes visible as he makes his way through the snow covered field.
His eyes glanced about the city of Orleans, "Papa, wait!" cries a small voice causing him to stop in his tracks, he glances over his shoulder and his eyes fall upon the small child. A beautiful pale blond haired girl with the same gorgeous teal eyes that Francis loved oh so much, her cheeks were rosy red as she tries to catch her breath.
She wore a small blue dress under a darker blue coat, a small smile comes to Francis's lips, she rushes to catch up to h
Roses and Poppies1. Warmth;;Roses and Poppies by Zelda-is-Deviant
The heat from the lecherous Frenchman's body was not welcomed by most, but Feliks greeted it gladly and snuggled up to the other's bare chest.
As countries, their pasts follow and haunt them like shadows, but when France and Poland step into the sun they are simply Francis and Feliks.
According to France, there was nothing more romantic than watching the sun sink below the Mediterranean and paint it lovely pinks and oranges; Poland thought it was nice, but preferred to watch the other watch the sunset (he made sure to never get caught staring, though, just in case France took it "the wrong way").
A simple glance or batting of those lidded emerald eyes can drive France over the edge every time, and Poland knows it.
The activity messed up their hair within a minute, but the thrill and Feliks being able to hold on as tightly to Fracis as he could--with good reason--made t
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