Arthur Kirkland x F!Reader
Warning: There is slight sexual content; read at your own discretion.
Warning: There is slight sexual content; read at your own discretion.
Christmas was not a holiday [Name] normally celebrated. Between being the fastidious country of [Nation] and attempting to maintain obligatory neutral relations with all the other countries, she rarely had any time preserved for perfecting her hobbies or even enjoying a stroll in the park. She was certainly kinder and inputted more than the majority of other people at World Meetings, but she did possess the tendency to be rather farouche with handling specific situations.
Arthur Kirkland also happened to be her best friend and mentor during her short time existing as [Nation], and it just so happened that he had been elected via direct vote to host the annual Christmas Party. Such a party was obviously raucous, and honored the civility between the various countries; any and every nation would be permitted to attend, even encouraged. To be quite honest, Christmas for them didn't result in happiness with familial relations; rather, a celebration between decent mutualisms maintained. This year, the English man was absolutely set on making his reserved friend attend.
Attempt #1: Guilt Tripping:
He found her locked up in the living-room of her cozy home, a place she often inhabited. Her cat, [Pet Name] curled up on the couch besie her.
"[Name]! Come on, you've absolutely got to go! I mean, think about it, love." Arthur used his best efforts to sound exasperated, not that it necessarily worked with the smaller country, she was rather stubborn, a trait he usually appreciated. This also meant the process of dissuading her would be almost always impossible. Still, the Briton would persist.
"No, Arthur, I don't like parties, and you know that. I also have approximately ten different issues to deal with, currently," [Name's] response resonated sarcastic wit and mild annoyance; she adjusted the ends of her dresses, continuing to type on her PC.
"[Name], please. You wouldn't want me to be alone, would you? Please!" Arthur drew out the entitlement an extra four syllables, and then placed his hands on her shoulders, reassuringly massaging them to prove that absolutely nothing could go wrong at a teensy, seasonal celebration, at least that's what he hoped. He was blissfully unaware of the slight tinge of pink spreading across the nation's cheeks.
He grew disappointed at the lack of response, and moved his lips down to her ear, "[Name], please? I'm your best friend! You love me," his sentence trailed off.
"Arthur! I said no!" this time, the young woman sounded visibly irritated; snapping her PC shut loudly, an action she'd surely regret later, she pushed past him, hoping he wouldn't notice her burning face.
Attempt #1: Failure.
Attempt #2: Peer Pressure:
Arthur resorted to his younger brother's help. A devious smile crossed his face as he sent a message to the obnoxious American adolescent. Alfred was annoying, but he was also rather persistent and held a penchant for having patience for things that people normally wouldn't have. If the dirty blond-haired man couldn't convince [Name] to attend the celebration, perhaps Alfred's existence would.
He felt slightly guilty for allowing his younger brother to bully [Nation], but there was absolutely no choice. Arthur's hands neatly knocked on the door. The incident of [Name] becoming irritated with him had happened merely yesterday, but damn her if she was going to leave him alone and miserable for the entirety of the celebratory convention. He barely remembered how he was even supposedly elected, wondering whether a certain Frenchman had something in correlation to that occurrence.
Arthur was interrupted from his pleasant thoughts of maiming Francis as the door opened, [Name's] expression turned to one of mild surprise as she saw the young adult clinging to the Englishman's shoulder. Arthur often visited her in her home with neither explanation nor reason, not that she necessarily minded, but bringing the American was a first.
"Yo, dudette! You look like a babe, but that's not what Artie and I are here to talk about; you gotta come to the bomb ass party! I mean, my bitchy older brother's coming, but I'll be there and I can totally entertain you, if you get where I'm going --" Alfred received an impromptu smack in the face by said brother, frowning as he looked up at the dirty blond.
"The hell, man? You said you needed me to help you get [Name] come to the party? I'm doing that!"
He really wasn't, although Arthur wouldn't mention that. Of course inviting him to help would result in the American to flirt; it was possibly amongst the main reasons that he didn't introduce him to [Name] before. Exasperated, Arthur turned to the person in question, eyes apologetic as he muttered out a feeble, "Sorry, love; I was hoping he'd be less...y'know, himself."
[Name] cast a sideways glance towards Alfred, her eyes kind, "It's fine, er, Alfred. But I think I'll decline. I think that other girl, I forgot her name — Amelia, I believe — I think she'd love to go with you."
Alfred's azure eyes gleamed as [Name] uttered the statement, bursting out a short, "Really? Holy shit! I wanna go with her too!", deciding to give Arthur a rather harsh pat to the back, and then proceeded to exit the rather small porch.
As soon as the adolescent left, [Name's] eyes became accusatory, "Why the fuck would you do that? I told you I wasn't going!"
"I'm...sorry, love; I was just hoping we could accompany it with my er, brother," the Briton stated, although it was a lie.
"Well, I don't like Alfred like that — Hell, I don't even know him like that! I have eyes for someone else." [Name] promptly replied.
"Wait, what? And you hadn't told me? Who is he?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out, love," she mimicked the word with an air of emphasis, before adding a curt, "Bye, Artie!" and closing the door.
That had been close; if she hadn't shut off the conversation as soon as it began, she'd probably endure some embarrassing word-vomit. That would've been the death of her, too. She regained her composure, and decided to return to her work.
Outside, the blond murmured to himself, carding fingers through thick sandy hair, "Damnit, I simply had to fuck it up again. And Alfred, such a cock."
Attempt #2: Failure.
Attempt #3: Kidnapping:
Arthur couldn't think of the last time he'd thought of making a decision so brash. It reminded him of his "Pirate Days", a term coined kindly by his older brother, Allistor. Of course, the ginger's hatred for the English nation didn't mean he wouldn't occasionally join in on Arthur's heists. Thankfully, this was one of those times, and Allistor was happy to comply, replying with a soft, "Didnae ye had a lassie."
[Name] had been acquainted with Scotland before, so Arthur figured the kidnapping portion of everything would be easier since his best friend already knew his motives and trusted him entirely. Best friends. Throughout the days, Arthur had pondered this phrase, as it was clear [Name] didn't have interest in him whatsoever; generally speaking, she seemed to get along quite well with people like Allistor or Francis, and they certainly seemed more attractive. He wouldn't be surprised if the younger country harbored feelings for Scotland.
The Englishman was interrupted from his thoughts as Allistor ran a hand in front of Arthur's face once more; "I'm here, nitwit!"
"Well then, let's go, always ready to rope in a bonnie lass; [Name's] a d'er," his accent sounded like treacle, oozing confidence and impatience simultaneously. Rolling his eyes, Arthur obliged, explaining the entirety of the plan to his older brother. The seasonal celebration would begin in less than three hours and he had appointed Alfred to be a host whilst he was busy (the teenager colloquially replied something along the lines of, "Yeah! Let's get turnt!" and Arthur pondered how aged he had become considering the phrase didn't make a bit of sense to him).
Scotland used the brass knocker on [Name's] house, slamming it against the door roughly. The idea was for Allistor to distract [Name] whilst England would break in with a spare key the forgetful nation always left under her doorstep and capture her from there. It was in action, and Allistor silently nodded to his younger brother, who promptly did as told.
Meanwhile, [Name] was utterly confused. It was nearly 11 PM, who on Earth could be knocking at such an ungodly hour. She simply wished to finish her work, drink some whiskey, and forget how awful she had been to her best friend. Nonetheless, the country arose from her seat and made her way to the door. Peering into the peephole, she was pleasantly surprised to see Arthur's brother, Scotland.
Like Arthur himself, Allistor too, had the habit of coming to her house with neither reason nor explanation, not that she necessarily minded. [Name] had secretly hoped it would have been Arthur standing at her doorway instead, so she could apologize for sounding cryptic and rude, but she wouldn't mind conversing with Scotland.
Opening the door slowly, she was suddenly met with the smell of expensive cigars and whiskey permeating from the older man. Allistor grinned softly, brushing his hands through his hair before bringing forth a bottle of Hennessey before politely gesturing to the interior of her home. [Name] muttered a soft apology before allowing the Scotsman inside, patting a seat on her living room futon. Allistor took it, while she went off to the kitchen to get the two of them glasses.
She returned, setting each on the table, "So what brings you hear, Allie?"
Allistor cringed at the childish name, however chuckling all the same, "Well, my idiot brother hosted the damn party; ye aren't going, ri'ht lassie?"
[Name] nodded as she poured some of the amber liquid into her glass, doing the same for Allistor's. The Scottish man peered around for Arthur, gesturing with his eyes to stand down as the Englishman stealthily strode into her living room.
"[Name], so how have things been?", Allistor inquired, taking a rather large gulp of his drink; [Name] laughed mirthlessly, admitting softly, "Well, I fucked shit up with Arthur, so fuck me, right?"
Arthur was rather surprised to hear the nation curse so boldly, considering it wasn't something she did too often with him, unless she was angry. Allistor's emerald eyes twinkled, chuckling lowly as he brashly replied, "Well, I definitely wouldn't mind putting som' Scottish in ye — if ye get wh're I'm going, but my brother's taken quite the interest in ye."
"Allistor! Behave!" [Name] laughed alongside him, before the latter part of his statement registered in her brain; "Wait, what do you mean? He likes me? I never knew that! I like him too! What the fuck, that asshole never told me —", before her statement was complete, Arthur had cleverly planted his move, grabbing her from behind. It was mainly to stop Allistor from saying any more, and also because he was pissed at him for the previous comment.
Within seconds, he had her handcuffed, hearing the satisfying clink of the lock. It took a few seconds before [Name] understood the reality of the situation, and considering she was facedown, she screamed. As loudly as possible, before Arthur swore, "Goddamnit, [Name], it's just me! Goodness gracious!"
"Arthur, what the fuck; if you don't remove me from these confines, I swear I'll — I'll do something!" her response was curt, and Arthur was surprised to see how well the nation was taking in the circumstances.
"Love, I just wanted you to come with me to the celebration; it's always more fun with my best friend there!"
Oh. That definitely stung. So Allistor had been joking around after all, now [Nation] was both irritated and humiliated.
"Let me go."
"I will if you promise to accompany me to the celebration, which by the way, begins in less than fifteen minutes," the Englishman replied.
The short answer hurt, and it was in that moment he knew he had muddled their friendship; [Name] only used that tone and phrase when she was hurt, angry, or about to cry. Judging from the expression upon her face, it looked as if it was a combination of all three. The Scotsman had sneaked out during the short exchange of linguistics, and Arthur felt absolutely atrocious for what he'd done.
The car ride there had been silent, [Name] staring off into oblivion and watching snowflakes gather on the windshield whilst Arthur desperately attempted to think of a method to apologize. He turned the corner to his home, brightly illuminated and ornately decorated, and turned off the engine.
"I'm sorry —"
"It's fine", the nation laughed humorlessly, "I suppose I should kick your brother's ass for making a joke out of that."
The Briton sighed, [Name] had returned his feelings, but he wasn't sure how to fix the issue he had created. The atmosphere was tense, before [Name] added, "You can tell me whatever else you want, too. I doubt this night can get any worse. I think I'll walk home, I'm sorry for wasting your time driving me here, Arthur —"
"Shut up!", Arthur exclaimed, before softening as he noticed [Nation] flinch. He decided to continue, "[Name], I'm sorry, I truly am. I was a cock about everything, and Scotland wasn't joking when he said I reciprocate your feelings. I genuinely do like you, in fact I possibly love you, even. You make my days brighter and I wanted to confess to you underneath mistletoe and kiss you and —" his voice was shaky but [Name] cut him off his a brief kiss to his lips.
Blushing a furious shade of carmine that would potentially his friend, Japan's Sakura blossoms to shame, England sputtered, before relaxing. This...it felt nice. He was kissing his best friend. He was kissing his best friend. A surge of confidence overtook him, and he pushed the female into his lap, taking the chance to explore her mouth when she gasped.
After a pleasant five or more minutes of passionate kissing, and Arthur pondering why he hadn't confessed sooner if [Name's] hands running through his hair softly would be the result, she parted away from the Englishman. Taking his hands into her smaller ones, she grinned softly.
"I love you, [Name]!" Arthur blurted before she could speak.
"I love you too, stupid Brit."
She paused before continuing, "But don't think this justifies as an excuse for kidnapping me, mister; but I do have to say," her voice lowered an octave as she grasped Arthur's face, "We could put good use to those handcuffs, love."
England blushed once more, attempting to grasp [Name's] hips against his own as she slid off of him, and opening the car door.
"Wait, what, where are you going?"
"We've got a party to attend to, Artie; didn't you say so?" the nation added a bit more sway into her hips, well aware of Arthur watching her retreat into his home.
A stream of muttered curses escaped Arthur's mouth and [Nation] chuckled as she heard the indignant cry of, "[Name]!" escape her newfound lover's lips.
Even amongst his complaining, Arthur felt his heart soar; although it had taken some convincing, Hennessy, and his brother blurting his secrets out, he'd have to say that this would definitely be the best celebration yet.
Attempt #3: Definite Success.