Author's note:: So I while browsing the hetalia kink meme, I came across this request for fem!FrUk in which France discovers England has a bigger chest than she does. And since I've been dying to write these two as girls for awhile, I jumped right on the prompt. I used Himaruya's designs because, well, I love them. First time writing attempted yuri/shojo-ai but certainly not my last. :D

France couldn't understand England's aversion to undressing in the same room together. She had seen the other nation nude plenty times before in their youth and so saw absolutely nothing wrong with it now.

"You just want to molest me or something!" England shrieked, blushing furiously from her corner of the dressing room. She was slow in removing her clothes, glaring heatedly at France who was in the process of pulling down her stockings.

"Oh ma chérie, stop being such a prude," France sighed. She let her long blonde hair out of the elegant bun on her head and let it cascade to her shoulders. "There is nothing I have not seen before on you, so just undress."

England looked very much like a prune then; her face an ugly purple color. She took off her glasses and hurriedly took her nightgown and lifted it above her head. She was left in her bra and underwear as she searched for her new top and trousers.

France glanced over and nearly felt her eyes pop from her head as she saw the other woman's chest. "A-Angleterre," she started.

"What do you want now?"

"Have you always…been so…"

England quirked a bushy brow. "Been so what?"

France walked closer to her, her eyes fixated on England's breasts. England saw where her gaze was directed and slapped France across the face as she put an arm over her chest.

"Stop staring at them!" she cried, blushing horribly. "You pervert!"

France rubbed her sore cheek but her eyes just could not look away at the mounds of flesh protruding from England's chest. It's not as if France hadn't seen another woman's breasts before, but she was quite certain England's had never been so…so large and perky before. She looked down at her own chest; a respectable size and shape. But in comparison to England's, they were tiny and miniscule.

There is something wrong here, France thought. Surely it was a cruel trick to make the country of love small-chested and make England, a country full of loveless twits, have the assets to make men (and women) fall to their knees in want.

"Why are you still staring?!" England hissed, searching for her blouse. France frowned and then suddenly came up behind her and grabbed her breasts in her hands. She was able to get a good firm grip on them, making sure they were real, before England yelped, turned around, and brought her knee up into France's abdomen. France doubled over and England climbed up onto the bench, as if she were afraid of a mouse or something. "You keep your hands off me, you French bitch!"

France coughed and looked up at her, holding her stomach. "Angleterre, it is severely unfair," she grumbled.

"What's unfair?" England bent down to retrieve her blouse, glaring at the other nation angrily.

"That your chest should be so big."

"What?" She began to button it after she pulled it on.

"Your breasts, you idiot."

She reached down to grab her trousers. "What about them?"

France sighed and managed to stand up. She unbuttoned her top, lowered her bra, grabbed England's hands and placed them on her breasts. England's green eyes were wide as she realized just where her hands had been placed and what she was touching. France had a bored look, as if she did this all the time, and waited for England to react.

England opened her mouth to scream a profanity and made to take her hands off, but France kept them in place and forced her to massage them. The other nation suddenly got a thoughtful look on her face. "Do you see what I mean now?" France snarled.

"Your chest," England mumbled, blushing, "it's smaller than mine."

France nodded. England took her hands back and coughed uncomfortably.

"It's obviously some sort of mistake," France said airily.

England's embarrassment was gone in an instant. "Excuse me?"

"Well, chérie, there is just no other explanation why your breasts are so much larger, is there? Obviously someone made a mistake between the two of us."

"Or this is how things were supposed to turn out and you were just given the short end of the stick. Or chest, in this case."

France narrowed her eyes. "Does this make you proud, Angleterre?"

"If it causes you distress, then yes, I am proud." England jumped down from the bench and pulled on her boots, a grin forming on her lips. She stood up and fixed her hair into two twin pigtails on the sides of her head before placing her glasses back on her face. "Anything I can be better at than you, makes me happy, France. I thought you knew that." She left the dressing room, purposefully lifting her breasts so that France saw, making the French woman shout a particularly nasty swear word after her, which in turn made England's grin widen devilishly as she walked away.