Hetalia Oneshots

Arthur (England) x Reader - Flowers for Thought

I wiped the sweat from my brow as Arthur returned with two glasses and a pitcher of homemade lemonade.

"You look like you need something to drink." He smiled, giving me a hand up. "I made this for Peter, but he says everything I make is disgusting, so I figured, why waste it?"

"I'm sure it's fine Arthur." I chuckled, taking a glass and filling it with the drink. "What amazing progress we've made today! Don't you think?"

"Certainly. It looks a lot better when it's pruned." Arthur sang my praises for a few minutes as we stood there drinking the cool beverage.

I had only known Arthur for three months, but he was the strangest man I had ever met. He and I had a lot in common though; he loved to garden, loved to cook, and he was a magnificent treasure hunter. He helped me find every easter egg in my favourite movie, it was truly incredible.

"What do you say we leave it here for the day, we can come back to it tomorrow." He smiled. 

God, he had a wonderful smile.

"Okay Arthur, I'll just wash up." I smiled, taking off my gloves. "I've got work tomorrow morning, so I supposed an early night is required."

"Stay."

I froze in place without so much as a blink, not really sure what he was suggesting. Arthur was a mess of red and he was fidgeting with the gardening tools in his hand. Clearly, he was worried about what he had said.

"That is if you would like to, maybe you don't want to and that's fine too. I just meant you could have my spare room for the night, but if you don't want it-"

"Arthur." I chuckled. "I would love to stay, besides the drive back would be boring without a stereo."

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief and I smiled as I packed up. I decided I liked his super self-consciousness, it made me feel something I hadn't in a very long time. He made me happy. Even with his constant arguments with Alfred and France, rock music sessions with Gilbert at four in the morning, consistent tormenting of Antonio, and just overall grumpiness, he made my stomach feel those fluttery butterfly feelings that kids do. Not to say that I wasn't a kid at heart, but I certainly wasn't fourteen anymore.

"I'll go and change, you can use the shower if you'd like." He smiled as I pulled off my wellies. "I'll make us something to eat."

He also really liked to make food. 

I know it isn't the best cooking in the world, I mean Francis made amazing sweets and Feli made incredible dishes, but Arthur's cooking was just my taste, which, according to everyone else, is bad taste.

"Sure thing Art." I chuckled, leaning up and kissing his cheek. "I'll be about an hour."

He blushed like crazy whenever I did that. It was adorable. I left him so his devices and headed up the stairs. Arthur lived in a quiet cottage most days, right in the centre of England, but there were some days that he resided in his London home. Those days were mostly his meeting days. He adored the peaceful landscape of the country and so he never really left here unless he had to. 

I finished showering and headed for the spare room, he usually kept a spare set of PJs in the draws that his guests could wear. I opened the door to be met with green eyes. I blushed like mad and tried to cover up the best I could as he looked away.

"[Y/N]! I'm so sorry! I was just putting these in your room." He showed me a set of his own PJs. "The guest ones are in the wash."

"O-oh..." I stuttered. "Yeah, thanks Art."

"No problem." He just sood there looking into anywhere but my eyes. "I should check on the food."

I chuckled and kissed his cheek again. "Okay Arthur, I'll be down soon."

He looked as though he was about to keel over in joy and proudness as he smirked at me. I just smiled and walked away, knowing that my towel was a tad short.

Was I flirting? Yes. Why? I have loved him since I met him...

I spent all of ten minutes getting dressed, though I only wore his shirt and my knickers, and spent the rest of the time loitering at the top of the stairs waiting for the food timer to go off. I was planning how I would let him know, it wasn't something I was used to doing having only ever been in one serious relationship before, but I was certain I was giving off that vibe. At least that was what I hoped.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP!

That was my queue.

I ran down the stairs and slid across the kitchen floor o greet him on the island bench.

"It smells amazing Art." I breathed in the smell of shepherds pie. God, it was the food of my childhood. So nostalgic. "I do love a good shepherds pie."

"I'm glad you like the smell." He laughed, plating up the dish. "Here, we can eat on the sofa."

I raised an eyebrow. "That's not like you."

He ran his hand behind his neck. "I want to catch up on a certain show." He admitted, walking over and taking a seat.

I followed. 

We watched a few episodes of the show he liked and then he started to get restless. But, then again, so did I. I was tired, my eyes were drooping, and I was starting to nod off on the couch when I caught myself and decided to forget the confession plan and settle for sleep.

"Arthur, I think I should head off to bed, I need an early start remember." I gave a nervous laugh.

"Sure thing, I'll clean up down here and join you. I mean, not join you, but I'll go off the sleep too." He smiled, picking up the plates and headed to the kitchen, blush blatantly obvious on his face.

"But I really want your company," I whispered once he was out of sight, and I closed the door to the spare room behind me. I lay on the bed with a tremble from the cold. "Arthur..." I mumbled, looking out to the distant hills of the countryside that shone in the moonlight.

Yes, I wanted to sleep with him, but more than anything I just wanted to feel his touch. 

"[Y/N]," Arthur spoke, opening the door. "Do you mind if I sleep in here tonight? You know, for company and all." He smirked, and even in the dark, I could see he was clearly wearing nothing but boxers.

"Not at all." I giggled, knowing he had no ill intent.

He crawled up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing my neck in the process. 

"I think I might be developing some feelings towards you." He admitted.

"And I, you." I looed back at him and he smiled.

Arthur lent in first, kissing me gently, and then I started to kiss him back. It was sweet, none sexual kiss, sort of comforting. It made me feel that damn warm feeling in my heart again, and the butterflies returned.

But despite being annoying, I had become rather attached to those darn butterflies.