Hetalia Drabbles - Various x Reader

England x Reader

Arthur Kirkland placed the plate and cup in front of you and smiled gently.

“Here’s the scones and tea I promised I’d make for you, (First Name),” he cooed, placing a small, chaste kiss on your lips before pulling away and sitting in the seat adjacent to you.

Outwardly you smiled and thanked him, but inwardly you cringed at the sight of the food, dreading the fact that you were going to eat it, but didn't want to seem rude by turning down your lover's homemade food.

"Thank you, Arthur. It looks positively delicious! I can't wait to eat it!" You enthusiastically thanked the European nation, hiding the fact that his food wasn't exactly the most edible out of all the nation's. You'd much rather eat America's food even though it would probably be extremely fattening. Even that was better than this.

You picked up a scone and bit into it, the burnt taste invading your mouth, much to your dislike. You always had been a picky eater, though you would happily eat anything that tasted good, which later resulted in separating a fight between France and England. Your poor boyfriend had accused Francis of trying to steal you away, much to your amusement.

“It tastes great!” You exclaimed towards England after swallowing, and taking a sip of the tea, which you were extremely grateful he actually knew how to make.

“You really think so, love? I’m glad- everyone else thinks my cooking is terrible,” Arthur frowned, his head resting in the palm of his hands.

You shook your head, exclaiming, “No! It’s amazing! I love eating your food! I would eat it everyday if I could!”

“Really? Well, then, I’d better go start making lunch. Tea time is almost over.”

He pushed back the chair and stood up, straightening his clothes, turning to you.

“What do you want to eat, (First Name)?”

“Um,” You replied, hurriedly trying to think of a dish that your boyfriend could make halfway decently. “Is fish and chips okay?”

"Of course it is, love. I’ll start cooking.”

Arthur ruffled your hair and strode into the kitchen, humming his national anthem as he did.

You slumped down in the chair, sighing heavily. Now you were going to have to eat more of Arthur’s food! You seriously loved him - He was so sweet! - but enough was enough! You debated whether you should tell England about his cooking or not, when you remembered something from several years ago, something you had almost forgotten.

  *~*~*~*~*~Flash Back~*~*~*~*~*

“Jeez, Iggy! Your cooking sucks!” America whined, pushing away the container he had been looking through in hopes of finding something good to eat.

“For once I have to agree with the stupid American, Angleterre. Your cooking isn’t very good. It’s too bad you can’t be as good as me,” France sighed, flipping his hair over his shoulder.

“S-shut up you bloody frog! My cooking tastes just fine! It’s your taste that’s terrible!” Arthur yelled at the two other nations, his face flushed red.

France waved his hand dismissively, saying, “Keep telling yourself that, Angleterre. It won’t help your cooking any.”

England glared down at the floor, balling his fists so tight that they turned white from lack of blood circulating through them.

“I’ll show you that I can cook well, you bloody git. Just you wait!” England growled in anger, storming out of the room in a huff.

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