I taste maple syrup... 2p!Canada x ReaderWarning: I swear in this one too. But I don't give a shit anymore. See, I just swore in a warning about swearing...More Like This
Your boyfriend broke away from the kiss with frown on his face. Staring back at him you tried to keep the sheepish look off your face. “Is something wrong, Matt?” you asked.
“We didn’t have pancakes for breakfast.” he said.
Damn it, you thought, he knows.
You just frowned trying to keep an innocent look on your face, “So?”
“I taste maple syrup.” Matthew said, catching your lips again. You knew it might be better to keep your mouth shut, but you couldn’t resist your sexy Canadian boyfriend. When he finally pulled back, he said, “I definitely taste maple syrup.” You nodded on instinct, still lightheaded.
He leaned down and started to kiss your neck, making you moan. “Did you make pancakes without me?” he asked. Unable you speak you just shook your head. “Then what troub
2p!AmericaxReader: My Cheese Ball“Al, Al it’s time to go,” you said trying to get your best friend/boyfriend to let go of the bottle of beer.More Like This
“Sorry, but you owe me a drink.” He slurred.
You sighed, “And why is that?”
“Cuz when I looked at you, I dropped mine,” he took another swig from his bottle.
“Al Jones, let go of the bottle. You’re drunk.”
Al gave you a sloppy, lopsided, but still hot smile, “I’m not drunk!” He swung his arm around your shoulder and buried his face into your neck, “I’m just intoxicated by you…”
You smiled and gave him a small kiss on the forehead, “Thanks, hon.”
“You know,” Al said as you dragged him out of the car, “if you were a stop light, I’d turn red every time you passed by, just so I could stare at you a bit longer.”
“I’m sure you would,” you said getting out the door.
“BABY, YOU MUST BE A LIGHT SWITCH, CUZ EVE
2p!AmericaxReader Hard to LoveA/NMore Like This
Sorry if this one's too fluffy! I've wanted to do this story for a while. Every time I hear this song, I'm just like this would be so cute with Al!
Song; Hard to Love
Artist; Lee Brice
I am insensitive I have a tendency to pay more attention to the things that
Sometimes I drink to much, sometimes I test your trust, sometimes I dunno
Why you're staying with me?
The door just slammed shut. Leaving a shocked Al in it's wake. Oh how he did it now, this time he almost knew you weren't coming back. Yet why did he have this little hope, that maybe you'd come back? No, he quickly thought. Why would you came back after all he's put you through? After all, you shouted that he didn't care for you...
Al let out an agitated sigh, he knew he'd cause you to leave eventually. Though it's not like he wanted you to leave. No, not at all. In fact he loved you, more than he cou
Firsts (2p!AmericaXReader)Alfred F. Jones was five when he first got jealous. His best friend was being approached by a young Chinese boy and when he handed ______ a clumsily cut paper heart, he swore that if his eyes weren’t already red, they would be. _______ was his best friend, not that guy!More Like This
She walked back over with a sweet smile on her childish face, which soon fell as she witnessed his scowl. “What’s wrong Al?” she asked, running over and skidding to a stop next to him. Alfred crossed his arms and sat down, and ______ followed.
“He shouldn’t have given you that card! You’re my best friend, not his!” At this point, he sounded more like a little toddler trying to get his favorite treat from a relative rather than a protective best friend. _____ giggled and elbowed him gently in the side.
“That’s okay silly! He was just being nice! You’ll always be my best friend!” Alfred couldn’t help it. He smiled back at his best friend, his an
2p!America x reader - His DollMore Like This
Untamed fists of deep, green leaves clawed at your face as you strained one foot to pound after the other. Don’t stop, he is there behind you and you know it. Faster. Don’t look back, you must not look. You command yourself to breathe, though your gasps our uneven and desperate; in, out. Your face was not subtle, it expressed your swirling mixture of violent emotions. Hate. Despair. You were petrified. But still, you must run.
Your eyes finally stumble upon, what appears to be a old American style cabin in the distance. Hope. It is getting closer and closer and just when your fragile lungs are painfully aching, about to collapse as they thrash against your petite rib cage in an attempt to scavenge for air, you make it.
One thump on the door and it flings open in an explosion of wooden groans. You quickly lock the door with nervous hands that shake uncontrollably at the lock. You have made it, you are saved. Finally, you can escape 'him', his cruel t
PrussiaxReader: A Little Too Hot~A Little Too HotMore Like This
You lay on the couch, sprawled lazily as you watched TV, one hand on the remote, the other with an anahaw fan. It was summer, the worst part of the year. It was deadly hot, reaching 33 degrees centigrade in the shade. In the shade.
The doorbell rang, and you checked the gate to see a classmate there. Facepalming with the keys in hand, you went out to unlick the gate.
“Gilbert, what in heaven--?”
“Just get me in zhere, frau; it’s hot!”
You rolled your eyes, and he dashed into the relatively cooler house. After locking the gate, you trudged inside. There he lay on the couch, desperately fanning himself with your fan, despite the electric fan next to him being on its fastest setting, his jeans the only thing on him.
You barely heard what he said as you stood there, flushing at his bare front, images fluttering in your mind, where you’d lay back and he’d be the one standing there, with a glint in his eyes, a sm
Prussia x Reader: ShowerShowerMore Like This
You yawned hugely, stretching, your long pj sleeves falling over your arms. You glanced up as you felt a rustling in your (h/c) hair, but as if you could even see the top of your head! You giggled as Gilbird gave a few of his cute chirps, and searched for his head with your index finger, attempting to give his morning pat. He chirped again, flying off your head to land on the doorknob. You staggered to your feet, scratching your eyes with the back of your sleeved hand. You glanced at your hand curiously. You’d worn the gift your roommate had given you—apparently with Gilbird as a pattern—the previous night, and you facepalmed. Typical Prussia.
Slipping on your fluffy slippers, you trudged down the hallway. Pushing on the door to your right, you find it closed.
"Gilbert!" you yelled. “Get out of the shower!”
"Oi! I got in here first, fraulein! " he replied. "Wait, man! Gott!"
Facepalming as he sung off-key again, you went to grab