#2ptaliaxreader

[alfredosauce50]

Ummm Yandere 2p England headcanons please ( when request is open of course )

Yes, of course! It’s been a while since I’ve thought about 2p England, but there are some pretty remarkable traits of him I couldn’t forget 🧁

(Sorry for the super late reply, but here goes!)

Yandere 2p! England headcanons

He never gave romance much thought, so he won’t realize he’s fancying anyone until he’s swept off his feet. And when he does, it’ll be too late. For you, that is. You’re going to see him so often, he may as well be in the corners of your eyes.

He’s as mad as a hatter. In fact, he’s so unhinged, being around him will eventually have you wondering if you’ve gone insane too. He’s sickeningly sweet and overwhelming at times, so dealing with him is no piece of cake. But other people have it worse. When Oliver decides he wants you, he’ll do anything for your attention. Everything else, he keeps in the dark—scheming the downfalls of your closest compadres, and how to put them in this month’s special.

Home life

He loves physical touch, but he has a funny way of showing it. Oliver makes the biggest fuss when he receives it. If you initiate so little as a hug, he'll be blushing like a bride. He has no problem returning it with a big, stupid smile, but Oliver can't handle anything more—if you kiss him on the cheek, he'll laugh nervously and lose his wits. "Save those things for the bedroom, dear... You'll give me heart palpitations." If you do it while he's in the kitchen, he'll add salt instead of sugar and set the whole pot on fire.

If you're both in an intimate location, he's a changed man. Context is everything to him. Be it the bedroom or bathroom, he'll do the initiating and drown you with affection. Kissing you on the forehead, lips, and neck, he's as sweet as the pastries he makes. He's eager to make up for his awkwardness elsewhere, so he turns into his own Casanova when he's all over you.

He can cling to you like wet clothes to skin. Where ever you are in the house, that's where he'll be. The guy follows you around like a puppy, and he makes it his mission to make it obvious. When you finally ask him what he's doing, he'll rest his face on his hand and hit you with a swoon-worthy smile. "What I'm doing? Whatever it is that you're doing, of course."

Oliver loves to contribute to every little thing in your life. If you're studying, he'll walk into your room with study snacks and ask how you're doing. He might even ask about what you're learning, but understanding it is beyond his capabilities. If he wasn't so good at cooking, he'd be the boyfriend who stands around in the kitchen with a spatula trying to be useful. He's not exactly book-smart or tech savvy, but he wants to be involved with everything.

He can't help pampering you, and among one of the ways he does that is by doing most of the chores. Oliver doesn't mind because he loves it. Baking, cleaning, gardening, he's obsessed with keeping the place clean and smelling great. He thinks its his job to look after you, though he can go overboard and start babying you. If you don't remind him you can look after yourself too, he may as well blow on your food and feed it to you.

He's always wearing something with buttons, like his pajamas or dress shirt for the day. He barely reveals his skin, and he avoids any questions about it. One day, you were feeling particularly curious, and after pushing his buttons, you've learned your lesson the hard way. The effort he puts into his appearance is what keeps the gun from going off—remember, context is everything. If you start shedding his layers and ruffling up his hair, he'll hold you down to do away with you. Never again.

Oliver loves cuddling, and he'll squeeze you like a bear in bed. He loves the way you feel in his hands, so expect some caressing and fondling every now and then. But he's a gentleman, so he'll always ask before touching anywhere. While he's tracing his fingers down the nodules of your spine, he'll hum in your ear and lull you to sleep.

When he gets jealous

It's hard to get him jealous, but being protective of you is ingrained in his nature. He has an undying hostility towards smelly and macho men. If he sees any, he'll glower at them fiercely like it's personal. They're bad news, he tells you. Unrefined, impolite, and always looking for trouble. Later on, he'll remove you from the scene because he has a problem with them sharing the same air as you. Then, he'll loop his arm around your waist and hold you close like you're stitched to him at the hip.

Whoever wants to push their luck with you will have to suffer his wrath. Persistent people leave a bad taste in his mouth. It reminds him of the 'smelly men' he so hates. How he deals with it is rather interesting—he'll grin like a Cheshire cat and throw fuel into the fire until the prick raises their hand. Then, he'll have a reason to take them out as 'self defense'. Oliver is polite through and through, but he has the silver tongue to say something that's worthy of a mic drop.

When you both get home, he'll be tearing his hair out in frustration. The prim, proper, and collected Oliver will completely disappear in exchange for an erratic and emotional Oliver. He was always clingy, so good luck getting him off you.

When you argue

You rarely argue with the guy, so when you do, it's something serious. He's what most people consider 'Mr. Right', but he isn't called a madman for nothing. When he's down in the dumps, he's more vulnerable to becoming unreasonable. A little crazy, even. He could say something sick or out of pocket with a wide smile on his face. Not only does it scare you, it’s frustrating. That’s when you’re tempted to avoid him.

Oliver was always high-strung about spending every minute of the day with you, so he’ll force his way to be in the same room until you look at him. He can’t handle the distance. It will drive him crazier than how much he already is.

He’s well aware of his insanity, and knows he can only use twisted logic you can’t accept. That’s why he keeps his mouth shut and stays around you until you acknowledge him. It could take hours to days, but he won’t give up until you give in. He will resort to sweet-talking at night if you’re still angry with him.

Psychology + When he snaps

He can’t fathom the idea of being annoying or overbearing. Oliver can’t help asking about everything you think about. When you tell him to tone it down, he’ll tell you he’s just trying to bond with you. He wants to be your other half, and he does this by dissecting your mind down to its most detailed intricacies. When you tell him to stop, he gets really upset.

The only way to cheer him up is through affection, be it through kissing or words of reassurance. He’s a sucker for your attention, so he’ll keep the act up until he’s smothered. After that, he’ll stick to you like glue and want you to coddle him.

He runs purely on your love. If you smile at him and kiss him in the morning, he will have the best day at work. If you don’t do either of those things, he will start questioning his existence. You’ve come to realize that, so you always make sure to dote on him so he can be energized. If not, he’ll be the saddest sap.

He’s no textbook genius, but he’s calculating and crazy good at picking up small details. On most days, he does this on his own accord to be charming and friendly, which he is—he’s witty and loves hanging around pleasant people. However, his friendly front is more like a fuse than anything. Once that goes, the uglier sides of his self is revealed. For people he doesn’t like, he’s cynical, mocking, and arrogant.

He’s always been insanely obsessive with the things he likes. If he chose to curse, he would scream, "I FUCKING love baking!" Oliver is a man of passion, and that applies to the special someone in his life. If you spoil him enough with your time, he will grow co-dependent on you. He will think about you as much as he can, which is easy to do when he’s doing housework. If he doesn’t see you after an hour, he will practically start chewing his fingernails off.

Oliver is more dependent in the relationship. You’re like his anchor—his pacifier. You’re everything that’s keeping him from losing his head, so he’ll go apeshit if someone tries taking you away. How they do that is through acts of service, one of his love languages. If you do it for someone other than him, he’ll get pretty irritable. But if that person keeps helping you out or giving you advice, he will understand that as a declaration of war.

He’s more lenient with friends, but if it’s a potential love-interest, he’ll be on edge. As it continues, he won’t stand the sight of them. If they don’t back off after acts of passive-aggressiveness, jeering, and personal remarks, he will start seeing them as a rival. Someone who disapproves of him. Someone who wants you. That’s when all hell breaks loose.

The bastard isn’t afraid of him, so he’ll give him something to be afraid of. That’s another great reason why he’s so happy all the time—it hides the fact that he’s a psychopath. Too bad his victim let that fly over their heads when interacting with him. But it’s too late, and Oliver is about to give them a stalking of a life time. He will psychologically torture them for months until they lose their minds.

All of a sudden, Oliver will stop. He wants to give them a false sense of security that they’re safe. He’s patient enough for the thrill. Once they finally think they’ve escaped his grasp, he will corner them and kill them in the most gruesome way possible. When he sees the look of terror on their face, he’ll laugh like a maniac as satisfaction surges through him. He’s finally one-upped the prick, and the whole process of terrorizing them was so worth it.

Once he’s done with his victim, they won’t be identifiable. They will be nothing but red slop. What can he say, he has an arsenal of world-class cooking equipment. Then, he’ll make sure to incorporate them into a menu item for everybody to enjoy. You don’t know why, but he won’t let you eat the month’s special. "It isn’t professional to eat while you work, dear."

If you find out what he did

Oliver will never be found out. He’s an expert at homely duties, so you better bet he’ll clean everything up, spic and span. For a while, he’ll be a little loopy after letting loose and turning someone into goop, but you dismiss it rather easily. He isn’t directing it at you, nor is he saying anything questionable.

Instead, you end up liking this strange episode of his. He’s just as affectionate, and doesn’t make a huge fuss when you kiss him outside the bedroom. In fact, he returns it, and you’re pleasantly surprised by his boldness. He could even initiate kisses in public, and not the shorter, innocent pecks. Breathless ones are more like it.

Oliver wouldn’t call himself bold. He’s just reveling in how lucky he is that you’re just as into him as you were yesterday. So long as you think he’s sane and lovable, he’ll believe it too.

[alfredosauce50]

If you do headcanons, can you do yandere 2p America headcanons? :)

In my opinion, I would see Allen having some yandere tendencies by default. But if we were talking real yandere, here’s what I picture him to be.

Yandere 2p! America headcanons

Since he’s so used to being ignored or dismissed because of his crude and brash personality, or how much of a hot-headed “idiot” he is, he can’t help getting attached to somebody who doesn’t do that to him. That’s because he actually feels appreciated, and seen for the person he is. So he instantly feels a connection and makes it his mission to deepen it, then to revolve his life around them. To say he’s obsessed would be an understatement.

Home life

Allen is as touchy as they come. It just doesn’t feel right if he’s with you, but doesn’t feel you. So when you’re at home on the couch, he’ll pull you onto his lap. And when you’re standing around in the kitchen, he’ll rest his chin on your shoulder and coil his arms around you from behind. If you’re off to the bathroom, he will stand outside and wait for you to come out just to do all that again. Skinship is how he feels close to you, so expect him to have his hands on you 24/7.

He loves spooning. If not, he’ll wrap himself around you so you’re in his chest. That way, he can talk to you and lull you to sleep. If not, he’ll tell you dirty jokes or make suggestive gestures because it’s not like you’ll bother leaving the bed.

If you’re busy with something, he will linger around in your presence. While you’re not looking, he’ll glance at you a few times. It’s almost as if he’s expecting you to notice him.

He expects you to kiss him at every opportunity there is, and will feel neglected if you don’t. You’ve made it a habit to peck him every now and then on the cheek, but he’s not satisfied with just that. He wants to ravish you. His kisses are very intense and deep, so he usually leaves you completely inundated. When you’re in bed, he’ll keep at it until you fall asleep. He couldn’t be happier knowing you’ve probably memorized the taste of his mouth by now.

If the weather is warm enough, he’ll walk around the house butt-ass naked. If you’re lucky, he might have the decency to wear boxers. He’s confident with his body image, and he takes pride in the thought that you don’t mind seeing him without clothes. Of course, you always wear something to cover up, but he likes you with less. "Why are you so shy, babe? You’ve seen what’s in my pants!"

He showers with you. It took you a while to get over the embarrassment, but he has long normalized waiting for you in the bathroom before starting the water. You would often find him sitting around all hot and sweaty, then ask him to shower. "Oh, did you wanna shower now?" If you go on ahead without him, you bet your bottom dollar he’ll barge in on you. "Hey, why did you start without me?!"

He has no boundaries, because he doesn’t believe in them. If he and you were an item, why would there be any in the first place? Wouldn’t that make the relationship ingenuine? That’s his logic.

When he’s jealous

He gets jealous very very easily. If somebody, especially another man, talks to you and makes you laugh, he won’t hesitate to drag you away to a more private space. You could get mad at him for it, but he’ll never fail to sweet talk you until your anger is soothed. Then, he’ll kiss you a few times, otherwise he won’t get the peace of mind that he didn’t “win”.

When he hates someone, he’ll make it obvious. Dark glares, passive-aggressive remarks, and even insults are what he’s about. If they come around, he’ll treat them like vermin and keep you away from them. And he’s not subtle about it either. He will pull you in and make out with you to make it clear you’re his. He doesn’t care if it’s uncalled for, “unnecessary” or over the top. The bigger the reaction he gets from a potential rival, the better.

Allen will eventually simmer down at night, but will get very clingy. He’ll pick you up by your thighs and carry you off to the bedroom and do away with you there.

When you argue

He breaks down walls faster than they can be built, so it’s hard to argue with him. If you seem just the slightest bit detached or upset with him, he won’t give you any space. He’ll make you tell him what’s exactly on your mind, even if it takes hours to crack you open. It sometimes leaves you in tears because he can’t leave you alone when you’re vulnerable— and not even for a few minutes. Fortunately, he makes it up to you by drowning you with affection. He’ll kiss you until you stop crying and give in to him.

His psychology and when he “snaps”

He isn’t a good multitasker. Nor is he a career driven person, so he spends his free time obsessing over you— which is a lot. Whether it be lingering on everything you’ve said to him with a dopey grin, or fantasizing everything he wants to do to you, he can’t get enough of you.

When it comes to subjects that don’t involve you and him, he’s less than enthusiastic. That’s why it seems like he’s a laid-back and uncaring person, but really, he focuses all his energy on you.

He loves it when your friends are too busy to call you to hang out. Even better, you’re mad at them for some reason and tell him all about it. That only reinforces that his relationship with you is in a totally different league.

He has a fragile self-esteem. He has a conflict between a superiority and inferiority complex. It doesn’t seem that way from how bold he appears, but he always wonders if you’d ever want someone who’s more “proper”. Personally, he has no issue with being so easy-going with life so long as he has enough to live comfortably. But when he’s met with men in your life who seem like the ideal husband material, he will feel threatened. He knows he shouldn’t because he trusts you, but he can’t help himself.

After pulling inward and losing his mind over the thought of losing you, all he needs is one wrong look from his rival to snap. He isn’t the cleanest killer out there, so he’ll have to tousle his way through a bloody fight before beating him into submission. His weapon of choice? A bat with nails. He has an insane level of strength, and combined with his momentary fury, he will obliterate him.

Unlike your stereotypical yandere, he has a moral compass and understands the weight of his actions. But with his taste for violence and tendency to act in the spur of the moment, he’ll lash out and do something he’ll regret. Allen will panic for a few moments before disposing the body, then reflect on what he did. But in the end, he’ll feel satisfied with himself that the asshole is finally out of your life.

If you find out what he did

You always knew he was a little obsessed with you, but never did you imagine that you’ve turned him into a murderer. Discovering what he’s done would be a complete accident, and you will want to run away. He’ll drop everything and catch you before you do. While you’re struggling in his arms, he’ll whisper this at you. "Hey, hey, hey... I know what I did looks bad, but I would never hurt you! You know that, dollface. Just look at me." He’ll turn you to face him, and you see his eyes wide with mania. "Please don’t run away from me. I promise I won’t do it again."

If you don’t find out what he did, then everything will carry on like normal. He’ll need a while to get over the fact that he killed somebody, but he’ll put it behind him one day. Because in the end, having you is the only thing that matters.

For more 2p! America, read here:

[alfredosauce50]

Who’s the bad guy? (2p + 1p America x reader) 11

Wordcount: 2,182 The reader is referred to as she/her

"Allen, get your ass up! We're gonna go shopping!" You shrilled, slapping your hands all over the big lump under the blanket. Ever since you woke up at around eight this morning, the energy coursing through your veins hadn't subsided. That was obviously because you were an early bird unlike Allen and you loved visiting department stores despite never getting the chance to go on a worthwhile shopping spree in them. 

Low groans were muffled against the covers and the man resting under them only rolled around in it to tighten himself in a tighter burrito. "No... 5 more minutes, please..." He mumbled, rubbing his cheek against the pillow. After spending so much of your time with this man, you've come to learn that he loved to sleep in to nearly noon when he didn't have anything planned in the morning. The thought of this bad habit hit you and made you sigh frustratingly. 

When his nest of fiery red hair peeked out and pooled around, you dug your hands in them and gave it a good ruffle. "Al, I'm gonna sit on you and squash you with my fat if you don't get up this instant." You threatened with a taunting smile tugging at your lips. He let out a soft chuckle and with that said, he did not bother to move a single muscle. "Go on, do it." He thought with mischief manifesting onto his features in the form of a smirk. 

Narrowing your eyes with a scowl, you jumped on him and squeezed your limbs around the shape of his body under the blanket. He let out a grunt and feigned hurt. Those noises made in protest silenced when he rolled onto his back, however. As you enveloped yourself around him like a boa constrictor, he snaked two arms around your neck and pulled you close much to your surprise. Noses pressed together and eyes locked, he held you in this intimate position for a few moments forcing you to stare right into his lazy, half-lidded gaze. He turned his head and brushed his lips against your cheek before giving it a light peck. "I'm up, baby." He moved his warm lips against your skin as he spoke, sending chills to shake through every inch of your body from the feeling. You inhaled sharply and bashed him on the head repeatedly. "Let me go, idiot!" You hissed with a little bit of pink tinting your cheeks. He responded by tightening his arms. "Not till you gimme a morning kiss. You know how much I hate waking up early." He whispered with his brows knitted together. You grumbled something under your breath. Darting your eyes over to the clock standing on the bedside table, it read 9:32AM. You grabbed that while carefully avoiding the prickly potted cactus sitting next to it. Holding it in front of his line of vision for a good second, you then hit his head with it. "It's not early, Al. It's half past nine already." He rubbed his forehead. "And that's pretty early for me. It's all about perspective, dollface." He replied, cupping a hand behind your neck. "Now give Allen some sugar." You rolled your eyes at him and sighed in defeat. You couldn't really escape his iron grip and decided to go along with his whims to stop wasting time. You could be already out there shopping for a nice dress, but no, he was still curled up in bed. Leaning in to give his cheek a quick kiss, he released you and smiled contently. Stretching his arms, he screamed to wake himself up. "I'm up!" An hour later after breakfast was served for the late-riser, the two of you jumped into the backseat of Alfred's car to get to the shopping districts of New York. Even though visiting boutiques and shopping in them were new for Allen and you, you were far more enchanted by the products offered than he was. Of course, if you showed him a good place to have a smoke and beer, he would be all over you. That was not the case this time however, so he just found himself following along after you in a shop filled with glamorous and glimmering fancy dresses. Alfred figured that his cousin's suit could wait until last; it would not take as long. Everything inside was well-lit with the chandeliers dangling from the tall ceiling, brightening up the whole expanse of mannequins and gushing women with dancing arrays of light. The air was also laced with a sweet, feminine scent of perfume, filling you with delight at the pleasant smell. The host of the party let out obnoxious laughs as he watched you browse through the store like a child in a candy store. Under those lively explosive laughs hid a sinister smirk inside, something that manifested in his mind because he knew what he was doing was going to win you in his favour. "This party is gonna be a freakin' blast! Just pick whatever you like because you'll look great in anything!" Alfred exclaimed, patting you on the shoulder. You turned to him with a light blush but smiled brightly at him nevertheless. Your chest was swarmed with warmth once more when he flashed you another one of his toothy grins; those million dollar smiles always managed to make your heart flutter. "Thank you again, Alfred. I honestly cannot express how grateful I am." You gleamed. "Haha, no worries dudette! Just as long as we have fun, am I right?" He nudged you in the shoulder. The blonde bent over so that his mouth would be in level with your ear. The indifferent face of Allen's grew alarmed when he spied the movement from the corner of his eye, twisting over to you two with an enlarged vein on his neck. Gritting his teeth and seething through it, a hot fiery trail burned behind his footsteps as he neared his cousin. "I know you haven't experienced a lot of what we're doing together, but I'm happy to be your firsts for all these things." He whispered, his hot breath entering the shell of your ear to send shivers down your spine. Ripping yourself away from him, you slapped him on the shoulder. "What the hell, Alfred?! It sounds weird when you put it like that!" You hissed under burning cheeks, unaware of the third presence who just joined. The man you conversed with did know, however. Allen knitted his brows together and frowned deeply, unable to fathom the anguish boiling inside. He was already furious at what Alfred said to you, but the reaction you gave him tore at him even more. As you continued to slap Alfred around on the shoulders, he flickered his eyes at the onlooker and narrowed them slyly. The redhead just tore his gaze away and walked off, not wanting to stare any longer into those calculating pools of icy blue. He completely avoided Alfred from that moment on. He was unable to bear a second in his presence and instead just kept close to you. The only time he scraped together the will to utter anything to him was when he was purchasing a suit for the night, a quiet word of thanks before he disappeared into the fitting room to change into the formal attire. Slipping off his bomber jacket after giving himself a good look over, he let the rest of his clothes drop to the ground before he slipped on a crisp white dress shirt. He buttoned that up to feel as if he was being choked but kept everything on for the sake of looking good. After he fastened a belt around his pants, he tightened the dark blood red tie around his collar. Once that was done, he needed to stop himself before he reached for the jacket so he could take a good look at himself. Allen pursed his lips and nodded in approval at his hot reflection. "Oh shit." He mouthed. "I look like a hot businessman." Never mind a hot businessman. This man was a lady killer with the jacket on. He threw on the suit jacket to finish the look, but only slowly to savor a pivotal moment in his life where he would be wearing something formal for the first time. As if the whole vicinity was put on mute, his surroundings were plunged into a suspenseful silence as he shot his arms through the armholes. Pulling down on the ends to straighten it up, he brushed the non-existent dust off his shoulders and grimaced at his reflection. "Oh shit yeah, Allen. You lookin' like a fine snack." He gave himself finger guns. He continued to stare at his front profile for a good ten minutes before he started twisting and turning to get a good idea on how he looked from all angles. Every single degree out of 360 earned the Allen seal of approval. Snickering to himself as he enjoyed his little alone time of self-admiration, the playful smirk curling at his lips faded once his visage wandered back to his neglected bomber jacket splayed on a velvety black chair. His gaze fell down to the small mound of clothes at his feet this time, which consisted of his tank top, jeans, and dog tag. He then glanced back up at his reflection and frowned. Unlike before, he was glaring at the clean white shirt and invaluable suit jacket. It wasn't like he looked terrible in it, but he looked terrible in it. This was ridiculous. The infamous street rat wearing high-end fashion? This unprecedented event was thought to be impossible and the fact that it was taking place right here mocked him. He licked his lower lip and shook his head with a sigh, a dark shadow consuming his features the longer he stared at himself. "Fuck Alfred." He growled lowly. He was already suffering enough by living on his turf in a world of luxury, but now he had to wear this? No matter how much he complained, this was bound to happen. Why? It was your love and fascination for all things glamorous and his own tendency to stick to you like glue. Even so, he blamed his cousin for throwing these useless parties and spending his money without a care in the world. Rolling his eyes at the sound of his explosive, obnoxious laugh echoing in his mind, he clamped a hand over his face and rubbed it to relieve some of the emotions of anguish. It was something that he held pent up in his system for the past few weeks and it was driving him on a road to insanity. Clenching his hands over the frame of the mirror, he glowered at himself with a glint of death. "There better be alcohol." *** Allen was already intoxicated with melancholy when he stepped out of the limo that brought the group to the destination. Ignoring the blinding flashes of cameras from paparazzi on the sidelines, he trailed behind the couple that was you and Alfred with not a trace of emotion showing on his exterior. You clung onto the blonde with a dazzling smile at the cameras that tightened on you both. Albeit a little overwhelmed, you felt significant for once. It was a feeling you never experienced before but you came into good terms with it immediately. As Alfred dragged you off to meet all the faces of cooperations who had more money than God, a mountain of sparkling glasses came into Allen's sight. Inside the large hall that had ceilings stretching up to the sky, there sat his only a bit of salvation amidst hundreds of insignificant party-goers. His prayers were answered with alcohol, and a hell of a lot of it. Gallons upon gallons of champagne drew him to the long table of refreshments to where he gawked at with delight. Liquid gold it was in its finest form. He didn't hesitate to start chugging the supply of drinks offered to the guests and was slowly exhausting all beverages. In exchange for everything he consumed, his logic and coordination were swapped for impaired vision and judgment. Collapsing into a nearby chair with his face flushed bright pink, he was knocked out cold after consuming more than ten pints of it. He was given weird looks because of it, but the spotlight soon moved onto a small group of finely dressed men with their faces hidden under dark masquerade masks near the entrance. "Sirs, this is not a masquerade party. May I kindly ask you to take them off as a security precaution?" One of the burly guards asked. The shortest one of the group peeled his mask off to reveal piercing magenta eyes. Pulling a Beretta out of his pocket, he cocked it and trained it in between the man's eyes enlarged with shock. "How's this for a security precaution?" He growled, his finger pulling the trigger. Blood splattered onto the wall behind as an ear-splitting explosion echoed throughout the grand hall.

[alfredosauce50]

Who’s the bad guy? (2p + 1p America x reader) 2

Wordcount: 2,246 The reader is referred to as she/her

After another slow day at work, you closed up the shop. Throwing your satchel on your shoulder and walking out to the front door, your subconscious forced a sudden jolt to stop you in your tracks. You scrunched your face into a strange expression, a weird little feeling inside you that you couldn't shake off. Perhaps it was paranoia. Paranoia that directed your attention back over to the counter with a small black box sitting on it. You felt a sigh escape your lips as you made your way over to it and pick it up. "Stupid Allen..." you murmured, finally able to exit out of the small building to lock it shut once and for all. "He always forgets his phone."

So, instead of catching a bus back to your own house, you needed to get off one stop early to return a little something to your friend. Sometimes you wished that you owned your own car, but Allen would always tell you to borrow his instead. Something about saving up for the greater good, he always said.

You felt a few wet sprinkles dot your skin, causing you to lift your head to see where it was coming from. You only wound up staring up at the sky, rapidly dulling into a darker grey as masses of dirty clouds fused together. The light sprinkling then slowly built up into larger droplets, forcing you to pick up the pace and run over to the safety of the bus stop. You spotted another figure standing under the shelter, to where you assumed to be another one of your neighbors. About to go and greet him, the words in your throat were jumbled up when you caught sight of who the person was. And he was not your neighbor.

Narrowing your eyes that were shining in curiosity and awe, you gave him a good look over. He was dressed so primly and fine that it looked like it was cut straight out of a men's fashion magazine. Thank god he had his attention directed at the awfully large and expensive phone he held in his fingers or else he would have caught you ogling at him.

Despite that, you felt your lips curl into a little smile when you watched him glance up and step onto the vehicle. Following suit, you quickly paid for your fare and took a seat just behind him. Without even glimpsing at him to remain stealthy, you didn't notice him flicker his cerulean blues over to you for a moment. Too bad you were too focused on not focusing on him you couldn't see those beautiful blue eyes.

He stood at a rather tall stature that you could even say he was as tall as Allen, if not taller. You were unable to steal a peek at his face to identify him, but you could tell from the crisp white button down shirt that he was wealthier than all... And what was that? It was a golden watch wrapped tightly around his wrist that glimmered under the small remainder of light that survived in the rain. His hair was similar to that of Allen's, except it was a clean, light shade of sandy blonde that you never thought you'd ever see in the flesh in this town.

The rumbling of a bus hummed in your ears. You ripped your gaze from him and you shook your head. "Staring is rude..."

Clutching Allen's phone in your hands, you turned your head over to the window to stare at anything that flew past. No matter how long the ride was, nothing particular in the poor setting would ever change. As retail buildings slowly disappeared, it was replaced by a residential area, with small houses with undefined shapes and clothing lines out in the front.

A few minutes had droned by, with different people stepping off and on. Soon, it was Allen's stop and you gathered your things to stand up. The blonde in front of you stood up as well, dusting things you couldn't even see off his arms. That was when you thought you were going to suffer from a panic attack as you walked over to the doors to get off. You didn't dare to touch him, accidentally or not. His broad shoulders were a feature of his, and it appeared as though it would land you in hospital if you were bumped by him.

The last little ray of light that was emitted from the sun had disappeared, replaced by a bright moon overhead. Stepping carefully onto the grass next to the pavement, you began walking in the direction of Allen's house, only to realize that he was walking in the same direction.

How could this get any weirder?

Cupping your mouth with a hand, you tensed up but still managed to move your legs. As you trailed slowly behind him, he walked in a rather... Interesting style, his hands in stuffed in his pockets with his head glancing around occasionally. On the other hand, you were awkwardly strolling behind him hoping to yourself that he didn't assume you were about to mug him from your seemingly stalkerish behavior.

The walk was long and silent, but you eventually made it to Allen's neighborhood no longer than five minutes. As you turned a corner to his street with the eye candy of a stranger in front of you, your dazed self stupidly bumped into him when he suddenly slowed to a stop. Your heart broke into a rapid thumping frenzy before it sank when he turned his head over to you, so slowly that it hurt.

You shut your eyes tightly and felt your soul start dissipating into nothing. "I'm so sorry!" You blurted, taking a step back from him. You didn't expect this, but you felt two hands rest on your shoulders. Screwing open your eyes, you met with two of the bluest irises behind a pair of rimless glasses. "Oh!" you gasped, backing away from his face that was bent down to your level.

His lips stretched into a smile and he laughed. "It's okay! It's getting dark after all," He replied, withdrawing his hands from your shoulders. His voice was strangely child-like, and it sounded as though he was the happiest man on the planet. You nodded furiously, clutching the bag strap tightly. "... Alright," you muttered. "I guess I'll be off then..." You then brushed past him, picking up the pace to your destination.

"Hey, wait for me! It's not safe for you to walk around alone at night." He called after you, jogging up to your side. You blinked, feeling your cheeks and ears suddenly start burning when you felt his presence close with yours.

"No, it's okay! I'm sure you have places to be," You smiled, "I always come here, so it's fine."

"Oh yeah? But isn't this place kinda dangerous?" He asked.

You blinked. "... Not the safest place I guess. But I know everyone around here, so..."

The man walking by your side obviously wasn't local. You'd never hear a member of the community spouting taboo like that, for this was actually one of the safer sides of the town.

"Huh..." He hummed with a tone laced with interest. He lingered his gaze over you, taking in some of your features. He trailed his visage up to your face, which consisted of soft features and eyes that shone brightly even in the dark. He wondered to himself how on Earth anyone here could be able to possess such beauty. That suddenly reminded him of the bus ride. "Hey, weren't we on the bus together?"

So he did notice.

"Yep, I saw you at the bus stop." You nodded.

He grinned. "Right! I thought you were stalking me."

Your jaw dropped and you shook your head at him with denial. "No way! Why would I stalk you?" You exasperated.

He shrugged. "Well, I guess I am pretty hot," He had a point there, but that was not a reason to commit such a felony. More like it was because he looked like he'd have a full wallet. You hummed, staring back at his eyes. Jesus, he really did have a strong resemblance with Allen. They even had a similar facial structure, except his was more of a babyface compared to Allen's. That was possibly why he was so attractive.

"No, I'd say narcissistic." You teased, earning a whine from him.

"Hey! I'm not!" He shot back.

The two of you were so immersed in the friendly conversation that the two of you hadn't realized that you were both subconsciously walking to the same house. It wasn't until you knocked on the door with your fist and Allen appeared that you even noticed. The door swung open to reveal a lazy-dressed boy, in nothing but knee-length tan shorts and a tight black crop top. Without sparing him a glance, you darted your round eyes over to the man standing beside you and he appeared just as shocked as you did.

Amazement flashed in your eyes and you brightened. "Wait! Why are you here?!" You exclaimed.

He widened his eyes and he laughed. "I'm visiting my cuz, what are you doing here?"

"Holy moly. I'm just here to return Allen's phone!" You replied, your heart fluttering in excitement. He was Allen's cousin? You thanked God that you met him! "Wow, I should've known! So you were the rich boy he was talking about!"

The auburn haired boy behind the fly screen felt his breath hitch. "... What the fuck?"

What were you doing with him?

He flashed you his pearly whites and nodded. "That's right! I'm Allen's cousin! The name's Alfred by the way." He held out a hand for you to shake and you took it gladly. "I'm (F/N), it's nice to finally know your name!" You laughed. "I'm a friend of Allen's,"

"Alright, enough yapping the two of you." A gruff voice cut in, followed by the ear-piercing creak of the fly screen. He loved your visits, but he despised Alfred's. The fact that you were here with him created a concoction of something far worse. "Hurry up and get inside, dollface." He was annoyed, and you could tell by the tone of voice. How could his luck go any more sour? The sight of you being so friendly with the boy he hated made him want to punch a wall. By the looks of it, Alfred had taken a large liking to you when he offered a hand for you to shake.

He almost never did to anyone he met in this neighborhood from his yearly visits.

Looming his tall frame over yours, he placed two hands on your shoulders from behind and hardened his stare at the blonde.

His protective tendencies for you kicked in.

"I see that you've met (F/N)," He then draped another arm around you this time.

Alfred's pupils shrunk and his lips twitched up into a smile. It was one of the strangest smiles you've ever seen, and it wasn't just radiating happiness that it was supposed to do. It radiated a mix of emotions, and joy was not one of them. "Yeah, your friend's pretty cool." He replied. "How come I wasn't introduced earlier?"

You lit up.

"Haha, I asked Allen the same question as well!" You chimed, feeling arms wrap around your neck and shoulders.

"You guys never asked." He grumbled.

"You know, Allen kept telling me how much of an A-hole you were, but apparently not!" You teased, unbeknownst to the tension that was starting to thicken the air again. The boy behind you narrowed his blood red irises dangerously and glared over at Alfred. It belonged to that of a wolf, and it spat nothing but what-are-you-doing-back-the-fuck-off.

Allen felt anger boil inside of him and he tightened his strong arms around you. What the hell did Alfred do? How the hell did the two of you meet? And most importantly, why did you not see him as what he truly was?

Alfred chuckled dryly. "Yeah, that's what he always says. I'm not that much of a jerk, am I?"

He flickered his gunmetal blue eyes over to Allen. It was swirling with nothing but mischief and triumph.

"You're really nice, so no. I don't know what he's talking about!" You continued, turning over to Allen behind you and handing him his phone. He took it with a lazy grin and slid it in his pant pocket. "Here's your phone, you idiot. You need to stop forgetting it, honestly."

"Thanks, babydoll," He cooed, darting his crimson red irises back to the visitor with a smirk. "I don't use it too much so I'm not bothered to take it with me."

"And you keep saying that I'm the airhead?" You pressed firmly. "You're gonna lose it someday."

"Not when you're around to look after it," He winked, directing this one straight at his cousin. He swore he caught his hands clench into tight fists.

There were many things that day to be pissed about for each and every one of you. First things first, Allen's stupid tendencies to leave his shite around and leaving it for your care. A nasty surprise on the said boy's door front and the chummy relationship you shared with him that was able to get under Alfred's skin. This was going to be an interesting recount of a relative's visit gone wrong.

[alfredosauce50]

Who's the bad guy? (2p + 1p America x reader)

Synopsis:

You've been living in New York City for the whole of your life, otherwise known as the city which never sleeps. One of the most iconic cities in the United States and popular tourist destinations in that very country, it was a shame that you've never seen the amazed faces of foreigners on the streets. Not one. But why, you ask? Instead of skyscrapers and tourist hotspots, you dwelled in the East. Considered as the slums of America, you still considered it heaven because your best friend Allen was with you. You never thought you'd have a taste of world-class luxuries ever in your life, but that all changes when his rich cousin Alfred comes for a visit. Dive into the world of both sides of the poverty line in New York, where the Americas battle it out for your heart. Immerse yourself in the story about a relative's visit that turned out to be way worse than anyone pictured it to be.