Hasty Confessions: England X Reader

Calloused fingers traced down her sides, evenly trimmed nails digging into her in an unsteady pattern. She wanted to run, her defenses going up as his hands surrounded her, pulling her by her hips back into his arms and against his strong frame. A shudder ran through her as his lips found her neck, dark promises whispering on his breath. Her eyes fluttered, she trying to keep (e/c) eyes from dilating and giving away her thoughts, along with her desire for those promises to be fulfilled. She bit her lip, her breathing becoming shallow as his thumb teased her hip, edging closer to a place he knew could make her fall to pieces. She growled slightly, the sound nearly silent and causing his lips to turn upward in the slightest of smirks.

“Is there a problem?” She could hear the playful tease on his voice, and it was impossible to not picture the glint in his emerald eyes. Her own narrowed, a huff of frustration passing her partially open lips.

“Arthur… They’ll see.” She fidgeted uncomfortably in his arms, trying to break free of the Englishman’s unrelenting grasp.

Suddenly, she squeaked, a slight pain on her neck and a dark chuckle sending a shudder through her system. “Let them see. You’re mine, luv, and the sooner they realize it, the better.”

She scowled, (e/c) eyes opening with a glint of determination as she suddenly broke out of his grasp, turning around immediately to face him. “I’m not yours, Kirkland. Nor will I ever be!”

The sandy-haired bastard had the audacity to laugh at her. “You say that, dear…” His eyes sparkled with mischief for a moment, and suddenly all humour was gone, the greens filling with a dark glimmer that (Y/n) had only seen in portraits of his younger years. His hand shot out, caressing and gripping her cheek. The girl felt her breath hitch, practically melting into the touch of the Brit. “But your body tells me otherwise.”

She tried to fight him off, her mind telling her not to give in to him. His pride, his arrogance, his cockiness, his sarcasm, his loyalty, his devotion… She silently berated herself for falling for his clever charm, the man knowing more about romance than most of the so-called Romance Nations. He crept into her system like a soft morning fog, wrapping around every part of her soul without her realizing, and now she knew she couldn’t live without him. But the thought terrified her more than she wanted to admit. She needed to protect herself.

Despite his claims to be a gentleman, (Y/n) had witnessed on many occasions how much of England’s previous personas remained, his mischievous and dangerous side coming out to play far more often than either of them cared to admit. Her (e/c) fluttered open as his hand pulled away from her face, now clasping her hand and caressing it.

Emerald eyes searched her own, both triumph and curiousity shining within them. The victory began to fade, worry coming in its stead. “(Y/n)…” He let out a deep sigh, following the act by placing her fingers to his lips, the digits being properly caressed by the slightly chapped flesh. She melted, nearly collapsing onto him as he softly traced each finger. “You don’t have to afraid of giving yourself to me. I wouldn’t dream of hurting you.”

Damn that man. Damn you, Kirkland. Damn you and your sweet words.

“…I’m afraid.”

He let out a soft hum, pushing gently for her to continue. A heavy sigh came from somewhere deep inside of her heart, a place that she dreaded letting anyone near.

“I’m afraid that I’ll get hurt. I’m afraid of trusting you. I’m afraid of letting anyone else in… And I’m terrified that if I let you in, I’ll lose you, too.”

Serious and deep (e/c) eyes flashed open to meet emeralds that were just as serious. They stared at each other for several moments’ pause when she turned away, a slight flush coming to her cheeks, and her heart near shattering again.

“(Y/n)… Look at me.”

She closed her eyes, ignoring his request.

A deep sigh of frustration? agitation? followed. She wasn’t sure what emotion it was. And suddenly his hand was pulling her face towards his again, he huffing at her closed eyes.

“(Y/n). Look at me.” His tone was mildly harsh and cruel, but then his voice softened. “Please? I want to tell you something.”

She couldn’t resist the slight pleading in his words, her eyes slowly opening and her body instinctively going to back away from the Englishman who was far past the border for her personal space. An arm that had wrapped itself around her waist prevented escape however, leaving her trapped by the man.

“I will never allow you to be hurt again. You should have never been hurt to begin with, and I sincerely still wish you would share the name of that asshole so that I could educate him on the consequences of hurting a lady.” His voice was a slight growl, and she couldn’t help a slight twitch of her lips at the determination in his tone. He smiled slightly as he saw the beginnings of her own, he kissing her palm gently once again.

“I don’t care how long it may take. (Y/n), you can trust me. I will never hurt you. I will always support you, adore you, and I want to be the one to care for you when you’re ill.” He softly released her hand, his fingers gently reaching and tucking a loose piece of (h/c) hair behind her ear. His eyes darkened slightly, power shining within them. “I don’t care how long it takes to break past your barriers, (Y/n). I want you to let me in. I will never leave you, and I won’t give up until long after you’ve seen that.”

She shivered under his gaze, the fire and passion in his green eyes striking a chord deep within her, making her want to believe him. “You…”

He sighed, pressing his lips to her forehead, causing her words to stop midway, her eyes widening with surprise and disbelief. He did not pull away, instead opting to rest his forehead against her own, his breath mixing with hers. “I love you, (Y/n). I don’t care how long it takes, but I won’t rest until I can call you mine.” His final sentence was a growl, an oath the echoed in the otherwise nearly silent corner.

She smiled, a true genuine smile that was as rare as a perfectly sunny day in the dismal city streets. Arthur backed away slightly, startled and concerned about the tears coming from her eyes. “You don’t have to wait, Arthur. I love you, too.”

His eyes flashed, something shining in them that made the hair on (Y/n)’s neck stand on end. She pushed him on the chest slightly, and he stepped away, respecting her wishes. He was surprised to see bemusement and mischief in her eyes, and before he could question her, he felt her lips against his own, her hands pulling him closer to her level. He instantly adjusted his position, his eyes closing as he finally shared his first kiss with her. He suddenly pulled away, a hand tentatively touching his now aching lower lip. He pulled it away again, emerald eyes widening at the sight of blood. He turned back to her, her beautiful (e/c) eyes sparkling. “(Y/n)…?”

She smirked at him, amusement lacing her response to his unspoken question. “Consider it payback for your sneaking up on me earlier.” She pressed her lips to his cheek, pulling away with a twinkle in her eyes. “Just remember, Arthur Ignatius Kirkland. I may be yours, but that also makes you mine.” She snickered as she adjusted his tie, then moving past him to join the others for the next part of the meeting. “And I bite back twice as hard, luv.”  She sent a wink over her shoulder, soon disappearing around the corner with a slightly smug grin on her lips.

England’s head peered around the corner, his fingers still brushing against his sensitive lip. A smirk, one full of dark intent and the promise of danger, crossed his lips as he casually followed behind her.

God do I love that woman.