Okay, so I KNOW I have a lot of stories that I am still trying to finish and some that I need to write second chapters on. However, I have just gone through a very difficult break-up which has zapped me of most of my creative writing zeal. So one thing I do have in abundance is little ideas. I am going to be writing "Tales of America" as an anthology of one-shot and bunnies. I may or may not turn some of these into full stories and some of them may be connected later on in other chapters. Mostly this is just a place to put these ideas to clear up space for creativity to flow to my bigger projects such as Here Comes the Bride, My Fair American, and Love Magic Madness. I hope you enjoy this little pieces of creativity, some are going to be light-hearted, some will be dark, some will be from the kink_meme, some will be my taking of older plays from around the world and having them filled with Hetalia goodness. Danke for your patience and reading… enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or anything. I am writing these for fun. No money is being made so leave me alone. Thanks.

America's V-Card Problem

Hello, my name is Alfred F. Jones, aka the Greatest Nation in the world: The United States of America and I am a virgin. Not 'cause I'm a prude or have anything against sex! I know what you guys all say about the Puritans! You are pretty wrong about those guys and gals and their thoughts on sex. They were actually pretty horny people who liked sex. They just liked to be married when they had it. Of course, not even that stopped them all the time. Hence how almost one in three marriages happened when the little bride already had a bun in the oven, and how guys could get kicked out of church or be divorced by the wives if the ladies were getting a little lonely in the bedroom, if you know what I mean.

(And there was that one guy who had sex with, like, twenty, or something, different barnyard animals. Still can't figure out the goose sex. I mean, like a horse and cow I can kind of see cause you can see their junk and maybe be all like, "Yummy!"—not that I have ever thought that, I'm just saying—but with birds you can't. And goose feathers can be really dirty and prickly. I mean have you ever actually laid on a goose feather mattress? I mean sure it can be soft as England's Big Ben would be after someone makes a joke "in poor taste" about the Queen Mum, but then you roll over and one of the quills is sticking up and THEY ARE SHARP… I just don't get it.)

So if I'm not a prude, why hasn't this godlike piece of blond sex on legs had sex?

The answer is both my greatest strength and my greatest weakness: I am super strong, like Superman. And I know what you guys are all thinking! "America! Aren't you just over-reacting?" No! You don't get it! Super strength isn't something you turn on and off; it is always there. I've learned to control it for the most part, but when I lose my cool or my temper or don't focus… I break stuff. Like steel stuff. And guess what? Most people are much less durable than steel. And I don't want to kill someone with my disco stick, as the lovely Lady Gaga would so elegantly chant—I don't care what England says, her songs are great and even heterosexual males can enjoy them. (Not that sexuality really bothers me, or any of the other nations… when you live so long and see so much and realize that the old argument of "sex is just a way to procreate" doesn't apply to you… you try things. Not geese probably, but other things I'm sure. After all, Spain seemed pretty attached to some of his horses. Just saying.)

But, back to me.

You guys are now probably saying, "Oh America, you sexy piece of sin and deliciousness you! You've never had sex; you don't know that you could hurt someone." Well first off, thank you for the compliments, I know I'm hot but it is good to hear from others. Secondly, while I may not have had sex, I still have Ms. Rosie Palm and her five sisters! (That means I use my hand to masturbate for those who are not as up on euphemisms in the audience.) So I know how rough I can get.

(One time, I broke my hand I was "in the moment" so much. Man, was that an awkward conversation with President Wilson! He was all like, "What?" And I was all like, "Yeah, so I broke my hand jacking off earlier and stuff. No biggie." And he was all like, "I-I don't want to know that Alfred. Dear god." Totally LULZ!)

And if I can hurt myself doing that, imagine what I would do to someone else who isn't as strong as me. Imagining it? Not pretty huh. I would like break their pelvis, or squish their organs in their lower torso or something! Not cool. And then they would bleed internally and start to die and I would hold them and it would start to rain so it would look all dramatic (even though, yeah, I know we would probably be inside, but let's just pretend that the roof sprung a leak from our glorious love-making, cool?) and they would look at me with wounded, betrayed eyes—slowly darkening as death stole their life from them—and whisper, "W-why Alfred… why?" and then they would die and I would yell to the sky, "NO!"

End scene.

So bad. Really bad. And thus I am a nearly 300 year old virgin (suck on that Steve Carell… ah, just playing, I love you man). To be honest though, I was kind of cool with this. Yeah so I was a virgin, but none of the other nations know and I mean, sure it can get pretty lonely. I see the other nations get together and laugh or talk about what a rough day it was or make plans to go do something for dinner and then I look at my planner, realize that I don't have anyone to eat with. Again. So I go home and reheat some leftovers and watch old sitcoms with laugh tracks so it seems like I'm not eating alone cause the other people are laughing…

Wow. That sounds sad.

But before you guys all get "feels" for me and want to buy me a puppy or kitty (I take either as long as their cute, but let's be honest… when are puppies and kittens not adorable?), I have an announcement to make: I am now, somehow, in a relationship with France.

I'm not even sure how it happened to be honest. We just kept running into each other I guess. We would end up at the same place for coffee, or on breaks from meetings we would end up going to the same lunch place, and then we would talk for awhile. Then we started to hang out more when we had to work on some stuff of International Importance and we just started hanging out more and more and then we would go do things together like catch movies or go to the park or to the zoo or to museums (That's when I found out we both really love museums. He may like art museums a bit more than history or science museums, but he likes those too and it was really fun to go to them with another person.). It was all really fun. Then last week we were having dinner together—just the two of us—for the fourth time that week and I realized something…

"Are we dating?"

Apparently I said that out loud because Francis just gave me a fond, exasperated look and said, "Oh darling, we have been dating for awhile but I'm glad you finally figured it out." And I would have been mad at him and told him we were most specifically NOT dating, but he had deepened his accent so it sounded like soft velvet across my ears sending shivers up and down my spine and gave me this look with his eyes that made my mouth all dry and scratchy. So I just blushed—totally manly blush, I will have you know! Chuck Norris WISHES he could blush like me—and nodded and ordered something.

I tell you what. Everyone goes on and on about how great a spy England is and how sneaky and ninja-like Japan is, but they've got nothing on France. Sly bastard.

Except now I'm in a relationship with France, FRANCE! The King of Sex and Doing Naughty Things. How am I going to survive this relationship without killing him with my Hips and Penis of Power?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay this is super short I know. But this is only one part of a whole and I wanted to get it out. It has been rattling around in my brain for awhile and I feel better to have gotten it out. This will probably have other chapters later in my "Tales," so if you like it, let me know and I will try to update more on it sooner rather than later. Expect quite a few updates for this anthology; I have a lot of extra ideas or little thoughts that need to get out. Hopefully this will get me back in the groove and I can work on one of my big three next. If you have any thing you would like me to write (pairings or ideas) drop me a message. I would be happy to write for you. Word of warning, I like America on bottom but I am not huge into Moe ukes. It just seems so… one dimensional. Yeah I don't mind writing or reading an America who maybe is a little shyer than he lets on (after all, one way to compensate for being shy is being ultra loud and trying to seem like you have all the confidence in the world), but I don't want one who cries all the time or something. My work tends to be character driven so expect some depth. If you want me to write smut… ((blushes)) I will do my best but I can't promise perfection. Love you all!

Thanks for reading and please leave a review!

91REDROSES