Hetalia x Reader (shorts, bonuses, scenarios and previews)

Haunted (2P!America)

Author's note: Hiya, dollies! It's 8:26 p.m. here in Manila (shoutout to Michi who's reading a very special England x Reader special) right now and as I wait for my parents and sister, I am writing right now. Another 2P!America x Reader because, guys, he's my baby. You're furious with me, silently screaming to the screen: "Girl, what the fudge? You have six other unfinished stories!" Now, now, don't go mother dearest on me. I know that, but you see I'm in a writing slump (FREAKING PETAs) and I'm trying to stop it from becoming a full-blown writer's block. This is kind of like a rough draft for an idea that I've had for a while now (five months) and I thought, why the heck not?

EDIT: I wrote the note above hours ago. It's actually 11:44 p.m. now ahaha

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He was way too close. You pressed your back flat against the wet wall but that did nothing to enhance the space between you, quite the opposite. More than ever, you felt like a sheep cornered by a wolf.

His scent was a combination of motor oil and musk. He was tall and lean but with strong arms and a toned stomach underneath his drenched white t-shirt.

He looked like a gangster. But that wasn't a bad thing, you couldn't tear your gaze away from those washboard abs.

You should've been thinking of the man behind him, but Mr. Gangster was very distracting.

"Are you listening?" He snapped his fingers between your brows, jerking you awake. He had a Bronx accent. It fit him. Holy crappers.

"Sorry. I was . . . " You weren't scared or worried. Okay, maybe a little. But you could've handled it "I was doing fine on my own"

"That's bullshit" He spat, but you could see the smirk on his lips, and what a delicious pair of lips they were.

NO.

Bad girl, baaaad girl! You didn't have time for this! Turn away now.

"Aren't you at least going to thank me?" He gestured at the six foot three body lying facedown on the muddy sidewalk.

You just needed some fresh air away and sober up, but the creep appeared out of nowhere and tried to kiss you.

Goddammit.

Getting rescued by this sexy man-beast wasn't part of tonight's plan. It was supposed to be a simple night: dress up, celebrate your cousin's promotion, and then go back home. You weren't supposed to meet anyone tonight.

"Look, Allen—" Allen was good. Allen was a suburb dad's name. And an Allen's a Boy Scout cookie. "I'm calling you Allen and don't correct me because I don't want to or need to know your actual name."

He crossed his arms, "I'm waiting"

You rolled your eyes and raised your hand to show him your pink pepper spray "I had him" Be a bitch. Don't let him flirt with you. Don't get attached.

"You know, the least you could do is show some gratitude. Not everyone in this part of town would've bothered to help" He was right, but if you said thank you he might want to be your friend. You already had friends, you didn't need new additions. Especially not James Dean over here.

You shot him the best glare you could fake "Fine. Thanks, now goodbye"

"Hey, wait a minute" His grip on you wasn't hard, he had excellent control on his strength, but it was unexpected and you gasped harshly. Hearing this, he loosened his hold but didn't let go.

His dark brows, the left one pierced, arched over his red eyes "I'm all for equality but is it really wrong for a guy to help out a woman?"

It is wrong when the woman's me. You remained quiet.