America/AlfredxReader Patriotically Possessive

"ALFRED!" You screamed at the top of your lungs, kicking down your soon-to-be-dead-boyfriend's office door. Your face was red with rage and your eyes were now dark narrow slits that showed no mercy. Alfred looked up at you innocently from his desk (that was covered in papers), stopping midway through a bite of his burger.

"Oh hey, Dollface!" Alfred said cheerfully, completely unworried by your fierce demeanor. "Who's my sexy girl doing?" He asked wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Too blinded by your fury to notice, you growled and stomped your way over to his desk, grabbing him by the fuzzy collar of his bomber jacket with such a force that he dropped his sandwich. His expression changed to being only slightly surprised now.

"Can you explain to me WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS!?" You pushed him away and reached for your tee-shirt, pulling it up to you neck, showing your breasts and a quiet large tattoo of a American flag, just above your cleavage. You first noticed that tattoo this morning when you went to take a shower after your stupid boyfriend left for work, and it took all your will power not to slug him right in the face when  you walked into his office.

Alfred blinked dumbly before a suggestive smirk stretched across his lips. He leaned on his elbows as he looked across his desk at your slightly exposed chest. "A very nice pair. <3" He said simply, answering your hypothetical question. Your faced turned beet red as you hurriedly pulled down your shirt, reaching for his collar again.

You were practically breathing flames at this point, "Not that you moron!! The tattoo! When did it get there you asshole!?"

"Oh that old thing? Well, last night when  we went to that party," Alfred smiled simply, "I was talking to Ivan and he was saying a bunch of weird stuff about how you would become one with him if I wasn't careful. And so I told him "Nu-uh! No way, bro!" and he said "Oh yes(Da). Since I clearly don't see any form of  American claim on her; I can." And so I got to thinkin' of how to solve that, and  I did! I mean like, is there really any better way to solve all of your problems than to stick the kick-ass U.S. of A. flag on everything too say that 'It's mine!'? I don't think so." With an overly satisfied smirk he then leaned back in his chair, propping his feet onto his desk, as if he truly had solved a problem.

Your face was stuck in a stone cold glare at the smiling blond. "…Al," you hissed.

"Hmm?"

"I'm not</I> a country… So it doesn't. Matter! YOU DAMN HAMBURGER IDIOT!"

"Woah, you're starting to sound like Aurthur! Maybe you two should stop hanging out so much-"

You grabbed him by the hair and made his face collide with the desk, the sounds of glasses(and possibly his skull) cracking echoing throughout the office. "SCREW YOU!"