Warning: Mentions of rape. For those sensitive to this topic, it might be best to turn back.
France was the nation of love; it made sense that he enjoyed sex. He loved the intimacy, the trust people had between each other in their most vulnerable state. It made his heart flutter, pleasure shifting down his body, making the other moan.
Despite their famed hatred of each other, France and England really didn't hate one another. It was hard to believe that myth, especially when France could make England scream his name in pure ecstasy, or the occasions where England was the dominant. Some could say it was some strange form of hate-sex, or that it only happened due to sexual frustration on both parts, but France strongly disagreed. The two nations had a strong connection with each other, a longing that neither of them could deny. It was as if they were an old married couple, arguing between the two, yet the passion still flowing strong.
For the two men, being so close together lit a flame of an indescribable emotion; pure ecstasy, joy, and wonder all mixed together to form a super emotion; it made France think of a superhero; America had been rubbing off on him. Time could flow, the world could change, but nothing would destroy the feeling the two had for each other.
Whether it be light kisses, or on the other side of the spectrum with kinky sex, France enjoyed intimacy.
There was only one issue however; some of the nations believed that he was a rapist. It hurt his heart, made him want to curl up and sob for hours, to hear such accusations. How could one destroy another by that? France knew he was perverted, but there was no way in hell that he would have intercourse with someone if they haven't given consent. Sex is a union between both people, a beautiful thing of trust and pure love. Rape was violent, and stripped a person down to shreds. On the days when it got the better of him, hearing the false outcries and seeing eyes cringed in a glare, France would break down crying. How could they believe such a terrible thing?
But England would come rushing in, his senses tingling, and comfort him. He would comfort France, reassuring him for hours that no, he wasn't a rapist, and no, he wasn't hurting England.
It helped, it really did, to have England nearby. With him, France could keep his head up, be strong, know that he was an alright nation. And he could piss the eyebrows off of England too (it was rather easy), a fun pastime France had.
But hey, that's one of the ways France shows his love.
What does America think of sex? Well, to be honest, he's not really sure. It's not that he's a virgin, he's had plenty of experience with it thank you very much, but America doesn't have a partner. While one night stands are nice and good, it's not nearly as good as with someone you cherish. Hey, they weren't his words, they were France's. Still, America believed France's words; maybe one day, he'll have a country to do the deed with. Currently, though, he can masturbate.
...That's... rather blunt...
But it was the truth.
If he was craving more, he might go to a bar and hook up with someone for the night, as long as both of them were up to it, and get frisky. America did have a particular nation in mind, but due to their history, he was rather hesitant. He longed for the love England and France had (and they did have at least a little feelings for each other; he had heard them fucking rather passionately once, to his disgust), and had seen the looks of bliss after they had emerged from the cave.
Of course, there were some problems too; America was rather picky when it came to his choices. First off, he liked to be the dominant. Something about being in control, yet pleasing the other...
On the bright side of not having a partner, though, he could look at all the porn he wants!
Still, though, America wishes for a partner. Someone to get close with, for to laugh with, to comfort each other, to be close to each other. When one is so close to another, as partners, everything would probably become so much more fun! Cooking, video games, eating, even tasks America found boring. Then of course there was the bedroom fun; America could feel himself smiling slyly, before coughing himself back to reality.
Well, if he ever found a partner, then who knows what would truly happen.
Russia feared sex. Even the mere mention of it made him shiver. It brought back too many bad memories. So many people... Thinking about it made Russia hunch his shoulders, curl into himself.
He could barely stand being touched; only those he trusted were those he was comfortable with; Ukraine, Belarus, and Lithuania. Still, there were times when he couldn't stand being touched by anyone; the days when his bosses were particularly upset, and gave out more extreme punishments. If his sisters came over at that time, they would understand. Belarus would refrain from mentioning marriage at all, and sit quietly with him. Ukraine would tear up, practically beg Russia if she could bandage the wounds, begin to cry when he flinched and mumbled a "no".
They knew not to touch him during those times, but Lithuania didn't. He didn't know that when he got touched, he saw hands reaching towards him and weapons mid swing. Russia would jerk away, accidentally lash out. He didn't know of the punishments that would last for hours upon hours inflicted by his bosses, and when Lithuania would try and put his hand on Russia's shoulder, Russia instinctively try and slap the hand away.
If Russia ever got a partner, something he deemed very unlikely, it would have to be one who was comfortable at his pace. Someone bright and happy. He might never be comfortable to have sex, but with a partner caring enough, who knows...
England didn't hate sex. He wasn't nearly as in to it as, say, France, but he enjoyed it. Particularly with said mention. And although the two of them bickered like no tomorrow, they truly cared for one another. How could they not?
America had once joked that the two nations were like an old married couple; although he had acted rather badly, secretly England was rather pleased. Especially the look on France's face; his face lit up, shining with happiness. Looking at him made England's heart flutter, face flush. France was perfection, beautiful, a masterpiece.
Still, it was sad that others couldn't see what England did in France. He had heard what some other countries had said about France; filthy, filthy lies that made his blood boil. Couldn't they see just how badly it affected France? Had no one ever witnessed France cry, beg England not to go near him in fear that he would hurt him?
At least, though, England was able to calm France down, make sure France knew that he was beautiful, that nothing the others had said held any semblance of truth. It would take hours to do so, but England would do whatever it would take in order to make France feel like an actual person again.
He would love France for all of eternity.
Well, I hope for those who read through the entire thing enjoyed! Please review down below, as it makes gives me motivation to write more! -Potato
