And Now, The Products of The World!

Oneshot 12.3 - (FrUs) - Je Te Veux

A/N: This honestly was never supposed to become it's own series. I just got curious about the extensive world that I could create out of such a simple and easy to follow plot. What happened to America afterwords? Does England regret anything? Does America have Hanahaki as well as England since his love is one sided? So much can be used with these oneshots.

It might become it's own book like Mermaid of Summer. Who knows.

Plot? Basically everything from England's POV. At least I think so. Maybe some extra stuff here and there.

Translations: Je Te Veux = I Want You. The feeling that England has for America is want/lust. I want you is a common phrase used in smut. It's always want and never need. If it was need then it would be j'ai besoin de vous. All these titles could've been in French but I'm not sure what to do with Oneshot 12.1. Maybe I Need You? Or I Miss You?

Ight let's go.
-----------------------------------------------------------

Did he regret breaking up with France? Sometimes. Sometimes he had that feeling that he should've stayed with France. But at the same time, the same thing would've happened, and they would've broken up anyways. Did he regret what he did to America? Yes. He wished he could take it all back, and stop himself from doing such a stupid thing. He wished this whole thing never would've happened.

Arthur Kirkland. The personification of the United Kingdom, was filled deeply with regret and remorse.

It all started at a world meeting, a month into his and France's relationship, when he found himself falling for someone else.

Alfred F. Jones. The personification of the United States of America.

There was a longing of sorts that was pulling at his heart strings and...something else.

America was quite adorable to say the least. The adorable ones were usually the innocent ones. Many images flashed through his head everytime he looked at America. Many not so good thoughts were constantly swirling around in his mind at the thought of America.

America. Nineteen years old. Innocent America.

The urge to take that innocence was growing stronger. The urge to conquer and take control was bubbling in his stomach. England didn't want these urges. No matter how much he suppressed these feelings they always came back.

It's not like Francis wasn't enough. Sure, he and Francis fought a lot but they still loved eachother in the end. He wasn't sure why Alfred made him feel this way.

A week before his break up he had done something he had no business doing. He shouldn't have done it. His l(ust)ove for America really had gotten the better of him.

The nations had all ran off for a short lunch break. Before America left, he had asked him to stay behind, and while he was distracted he cornered America. Maybe it was the lust clouding his mind, or maybe it was the feeling of want. He didn't know. He looked into the younger nation's eyes.

Fear. America had feared him that day. Fear was a thing he had never wanted America to feel. He wanted him to feel anything other than fear. England didn't know what he wanted America to feel. Just anything other than fear.

He had spilled his emotions to him. In a hurried mess of lust, love, and anything else he was feeling. When he looked back up at America, he saw anger, confusion, and pity.

Pity. America felt pity for this man in front of him. America felt pity for him. This lonely man, lonely enough to come crawling to his colony for some type of love. Willing to cheat on his partner just for a quick fuck. How lonely was he?