Romance Over A Milkshake AmericaXReader(request)

"Hey, America." The American blond looked at whoever was tugging on the sleeve of his bomber jacket. It turned out to be you, who looked flustered and nervous, for some reason. "America." You said. "You go on and on about this place called McDonald's." You dropped your gaze to the ground. "Would you mind taking me there?"

America ALWAYS talked about McDonalds during the world meetings, which got you curious. Was it really that good? That was the reason you were asking.

A grin spread across the blonde’s face. "You've finally come around!" He exclaimed cheerfully, grabbing your shoulders. You just stared at him in confusion. What was he so excited about? Still smiling, he swept you off your feet- literally- and ran out the door.

"America!" You shrieked, flailing and squirming in his arms. "Put me down right now!" You were just walking to some restaurant, for god's sake! You didn't need to be carried around like some airheaded damsel in distress.

The blond only chuckled at your reaction and continued sprinting faster than a runner at the Olympics.

You stared at the restaurant he'd brought you to. It was somewhat small, but the huge, yellow arch shaped sign stood out. You entered hesitantly and the smell of grease hit your nose like a brick. But grease smells awesome, so you didn't mind. It was very bright inside, stunningly so.

 You slowly took a seat at one of the plastic booths. America had run off to fetch the food. Well, you could see why he liked it here. It was very cheerful, so it was a nice place to take your mind off things. Plus, it had free Wi-Fi. It smelled pretty nice, but you couldn't help but wonder what the food tasted like.

 The American sat next to you, grinning ear-to-ear, setting a tray down on the table. He handed you a milkshake. "Give it a try!" And he dug into his cheeseburger.

You hesitantly picked the cup up, bringing it to your lips, and you took a sip. It was.......good! Really good! You didn't have food like this in your country. "This is great!" You exclaimed.

 The American's grin widened. "Told you so!" And so you dove into some other food with him.

While you ate, you chatted happily with the blond. To be honest, up until now, you didn't really know the American. You just knew he was a loud guy who always ate, and you'd heard a little about him from Britain, but other than that you hadn't really known him. But his personality surprised you; you thought he'd be somewhat annoying when he had a conversation, but he was actually rather interesting.

He told you about the time Britain got drunk on his ass and you found yourself laughing, something you normally didn't do. You honestly couldn't believe you were enjoying this as much as you were.

 But alas, all good things come to an end.

You looked at the clock and you were surprised to see how late it was. "It's getting kinda late." You announced, standing up. "We should probably get going."

The blond pouted at this. "Do we have to?"

 You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction; he really was cute. "Yeah."

He walked with you as you went home. He had insisted that you shouldn't be out alone this late at night. Despite what Britain said, you thought America seemed like a gentleman, in his own way. "Later!" You said, waving before walking into your house.

America walked away, hands in his pockets, smiling to himself. To be honest, you were a lot cooler than he'd originally thought. He'd thought you were a stick in the mud. I mean, you did hang out with Mr. I-can't-smile-to-save-my-life Britain and you always seemed to take things too seriously.

 But once someone got you to smile and laugh, you seemed a lot more relaxed. Sorta like you were taking a break from being serious. America liked you that way.

And he wanted to see it again.

Ever since then, America took you to McDonald's every day. You talked, ate, and laughed with him. It was no wonder you soon became good friends with him, much to Britain's dismay(you're complete bloody opposites!)

 But, for some reason, America was starting to feel some weird shit now. Every time he saw you, he got this really, really weird warm feeling. He didn't necessarily hate it, but it still kinda weirded him out.

And then there was that feeling when France hit on you, or when you hugged Britain. He got really pissed off when that happened, but he had no idea why. He always sorta kept it to himself, so it had never been a serious problem.

 Until today.

France had started flirting with you, and it annoyed you a lot. This guy just didn't know when to give up. "For the last time, I'll never date you!" You spat.

"Oh, come now, ma chere!" He said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "Why don't we-?" But he was cut off by a certain American slugging the French perv in the face-hard. He flew across the room, hitting the wall with a sickening crunch.

 "America!" You shouted, your eyes widening in horror. "Why the hell did you do that?!"

 The American was stunned by your anger. He'd- he'd saved you from a perv! He'd been your hero! You should have been happy, smiling! So then why were you so angry?

 You walked over to France. "Are you alright?"

 The American did the only thing he could at this point- he ran.

America took a small sip of his milkshake. He was the exact opposite of his bright, cheerful atmosphere. Right now, he was pretty damn depressed.

What kind of hero runs away? He sighed, taking another sip. McDonald's was his favorite place to go when he was in a bad mood, but...right now, it didn't seem to be helping.

 He was used to coming here with you, which wasn't helping. This place just didn't feel the same when you weren't here. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up. To his dismay, it was you, a slight smile on your face. "Mind if I sit here?"

He nodded sadly, turning away from you. You sat next to him. "I'm not mad, you know." The blond looked at you, clearly confused. "I was a little mad, at first." You continued. "But I'm not anymore. I know you meant well." You gave him a quick hug and flashed him another smile.

 America wasn't quite sure what he was thinking at the time, but he grabbed your shoulders and gently kissed you. You found yourself kissing back, tangling your fingers in his blond locks. When the two of you pulled away, you flashed him a smirk. "That was better than a whole McDonald's meal."

The American found himself laughing at this, simply because it was true.

THE END