EnglandxReader: Mittens

“Achoo!”

“(Name), are you alright? Is it too cold outside?” the British man asked.

“Y-yeah,” she replied nasally, hugging her body as they continued to walk back to their homes.

“I told you, didn’t I? A thin jacket like that won’t do. You need a thicker one.”

“It’s not my arms or body that’s the problem, Arthur. My hands are really cold, that’s all.” She blew on them with hot breath.

Arthur look at her hands, looked at his mitten-covered hands, then back ahead of them. “Is that so?” He thought for a second and an idea came. “Here, give me your right hand.”

Curiously, she did so as Arthur removed his right mitten and put it on hers, receiving a smile from (Name). “Thanks, Arthur that helps a bit.”

“Wait, your left hand is still cold, isn’t it?” He clasped his bare right hand with her left, lacing their fingers. “There. Does that help?”

“S-sure!” she blurted, slightly embarrassed by the polite gesture the gentleman made. “D-definitely!”

“Just a second, your cheeks look cold, too.” He leaned in close and kissed both of her cheeks gently. When he looked at her again, her cheeks burned with redness, reminding him of two apples. She was obviously flustered, still processing what action he took. “(Name), love, what’s wrong?”

“Err… u-uh… I-I…,” she said dumbly, trying to hide the blush with her covered hand, only covering her mouth.

“My, you must be cold. Even your lips are cold?”

She processed what he asked quickly and shook her head. “No, no! T-They’re fine, really!”

“Please, let me help.” Arthur gently pried her arm away from her face and leaned in once again.

Closer and closer he came, lessening the space. (Name) squeezed her eyes shut, heard him breathe in…



… And felt hot air blown onto her lips.



In other words, Arthur Kirkland blew hot, minty breath onto (Name)’s freezing lips.

“E-eh?” She cautiously opened her eyes to a smiling Arthur.

“Are you better now?” he asked gently.

“B-but … I-I thought… y-y-you…,” she sputtered.

He chuckled as he tugged her along to continue walking. “What were you expecting, love?”

“N-Never mind!”

Arthur laughed at her flustered expression as he suppressed his own with all his might. The two didn’t realize that Francis Bonnefoy, the freelance cupid in their school, was snickering with a phone in hand.