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Literature Text
"Are you okay, sweetie?" Mrs. Jones asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No ma'am…"
You bowed your head. You had been watching Alfred chop wood outside the window. She couldn't meet Mrs. Jones's eyes. How on earth do you go about telling another woman you were just ogling her son? It wouldn't go over well. You were starting to think deeply about your own family. Alfred's was tighter knit than yours. The woman in front you could be pushy but she wasn't demanding. Mrs. Jones expected honesty and hard work, but respected distance and personal issues. She hadn't forced you to talk at all that summer but she had put you and Alfred's other friends to work on the farm, probably taking advantage of having extra hands.
"I think… I'll go help Alfred chop some firewood…" you said evasively.
You walked out the door without another word. Alfred grinned and waved you over the moment he saw you. There was a second axe sitting by a stump at his side. You grabbed the second axe. You walked over to a fine stone. There was a pile of wood that needed to be chopped beside the stone. You grabbed one and set it up. You brought the axe up and brought it down quickly, evenly splitting the wood in half. You picked up another and repeated your actions. You didn't say a word to Alfred, notifying him that you were in deep thought.
You didn't notice Elizaveta giggling over Alfred. You didn't notice the way Alfred's muscles coiled, flexed, and rippled. You were oblivious to the way he brought his arms up, which made all of his muscles tighten, he swung and wood split. You were non-observant of the way the morning sun gave Alfred's muscles a sort of glow since he was coated in a fine layer of sweat. Alfred didn't notice he had an audience building up. Mrs. Jones watched from the window. The woman rolled her eyes and went back to rolling out the dough for her pie.
"I swear they're going to drown in their angst," Mrs. Jones muttered, "No-one-understand-what-I'm-going-through mood swings, as if I haven't been there. __________ acts as if Alfred doesn't feel the same…"
"No ma'am…"
You bowed your head. You had been watching Alfred chop wood outside the window. She couldn't meet Mrs. Jones's eyes. How on earth do you go about telling another woman you were just ogling her son? It wouldn't go over well. You were starting to think deeply about your own family. Alfred's was tighter knit than yours. The woman in front you could be pushy but she wasn't demanding. Mrs. Jones expected honesty and hard work, but respected distance and personal issues. She hadn't forced you to talk at all that summer but she had put you and Alfred's other friends to work on the farm, probably taking advantage of having extra hands.
"I think… I'll go help Alfred chop some firewood…" you said evasively.
You walked out the door without another word. Alfred grinned and waved you over the moment he saw you. There was a second axe sitting by a stump at his side. You grabbed the second axe. You walked over to a fine stone. There was a pile of wood that needed to be chopped beside the stone. You grabbed one and set it up. You brought the axe up and brought it down quickly, evenly splitting the wood in half. You picked up another and repeated your actions. You didn't say a word to Alfred, notifying him that you were in deep thought.
You didn't notice Elizaveta giggling over Alfred. You didn't notice the way Alfred's muscles coiled, flexed, and rippled. You were oblivious to the way he brought his arms up, which made all of his muscles tighten, he swung and wood split. You were non-observant of the way the morning sun gave Alfred's muscles a sort of glow since he was coated in a fine layer of sweat. Alfred didn't notice he had an audience building up. Mrs. Jones watched from the window. The woman rolled her eyes and went back to rolling out the dough for her pie.
"I swear they're going to drown in their angst," Mrs. Jones muttered, "No-one-understand-what-I'm-going-through mood swings, as if I haven't been there. __________ acts as if Alfred doesn't feel the same…"
Literature
Touch- America
She sat, wide eyed, watching the flag snap wildly in the wind and the rain pour down.
“What is it like?” she asked quietly.
“Cold. Wet. We should go inside.” Alfred shivered, hugging himself tightly and gritting his teeth.
“I feel fine. Can we stay a little longer?” (f/n) licked her lips and put out her hand to catch the fat, glistening raindrops in her palm. “I like the smell of the rain.”
“You know your mother doesn’t like you to be outside for too long. You could hurt yourself.”
(f/n) rolled her (e/c) eyes and ignored Alfred, “And you only care because you’
Literature
America X Reader
You were bored. You knew that much. You had tried to pay attention in class, but the fact the teacher was speaking about the history of an object, you couldn't really pay attention. You sat still in the back corner that you always sat at, you were drawing something on your notebook that would've scared a small child. You drew a person scratching on a mirror. As you took your red pen to color in parts of the picture that would've been bloody. Sure, everyone knew who you were, but they were all afraid, Even a certain popular American, You knew his name was Alfred, but you never interacted with him. The truth is, you never interacted with anyon
Literature
Tectonik!USUK X Reader: Bodyguards
I always have this two guys on my back, following me everytime and everywhere.
"I'm sure you'll get a toothache someday" you had this bodyguard named Arthur, he likes smoking.
"I'll die before I get that" and this is also your bodyguard, Alfred. Carrying your bag for you.
"Miss, want one?" Alfred said, giving you a light blue Popsicle.
"No thanks, and will you stop following me? Earlier, they were talking about me!"
"We're just doing our job, love~" Arthur leaned over and blew the smokes to you.
'It all started that day when my father found out that someone with bad attentions was following... No... Stalki
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HOLY SHIT I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!