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m-jelly · 9 months ago

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Can I request a fix for Levi with a single parent!reader? Like reader and Levi are very close and are together, but Levi doesn't know they have a child, and no one but Erwin knows that the reader has a kid out there for one reason or another (up to you). So one day, Levi somehow finds out and meets their kid and notices how polite, well behaved and protective they are of the reader, and they absolutely love and adore Levi. Also maybe a sprinkle of the other vets and the 104th here and there? I hope my request isn't too much for you😅💕

Thank u a whole lot, and I absolutely adore your content❤

I'm going to change this request a bit because I don't know how the reader can keep a child secret from Levi while they're a couple. Plus, keeping a kid secret from your partner if you've been together as a couple is not the best way to start a relationship, because it starts with a lie? So, Levi knows there is a kid, he just hasn't met them yet.

Polite little man

Levi x fem!reader

Modern AU, fluff, romance, Mum reader, little boy, meeting the kid, established couple, sheriff Levi.

Levi and you have been dating for just over a month now and it is very serious. So, it's time to meet your son, Bjorn. Bjorn is a cute four-year-old with bright eyes, a big brain, a big heart and very polite. Levi and your son click right away with each other and have a wonderful playdate together.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

You knelt before Bjorn and helped him with his little outfit. He had cute trousers on, a smart shirt and an adorable jumper over. "There, all fixed."

Bjorn sighed. "Mummy, will he like?"

You cupped his cubby cheeks and kissed the end of his nose. "Levi will love your outfit. He'll think you look like a distinguished gentleman."

Bjorn giggled. "Thank you, Mummy."

You hummed a laugh. "You ready to go to the meeting spot?"

"Yes, Mummy."

You stood up and helped him put on his backpack. "You want me to put your shoes on?"

He hurried over to the shoes. "I can, mummy."

You put yours on and unlocked the front door. You smiled as he raced outside to the white picket fence gate and waited for you. You locked the door and walked over to him only to see Sasha, your neighbour, racing outside to see Bjorn and you.

Sasha waved to you and called your name. "Morning!"

You smiled sweetly and waved back. "Morning."

She leapt over your fence and jogged over. "Where you going? Am I not babysitting today?"

You shook your head. "Nope, today Bjorn is meeting Levi. So, Bjorn is coming with me."

"Oh, that's exciting for you Bjorn." She crouched down. "And look at you, you look so cool."

Bjorn gripped his jumper. "I am dressed to impress, like mummy says."

You laughed. "He's so cute."

Sasha smiled. "Bjorn? Levi will love you. You're a cool little guy and so smart. You've got this."

Bjorn grinned. "Thank you."

You reached over and took your son's hand. "Come on, little man. We can't be late."

"Bye-bye."

The two of you walked through your quiet and nice little town to the station to see Sheriff Levi, your boyfriend. The plan was you'd meet him at the station so Bjorn could see him in his uniform and his workplace, then you'd all go together on a fun outing.

You waved to Eren behind the welcome desk. "Morning, Eren. You on reception duty this morning?"

Eren smiled at you. "I am, yeah. I don't mind it, means I get to talk to people."

"That's good!"

He looked over his desk. "Who's this?"

You looked down at Bjorn. "This is my son, Bjorn. Say hello."

Bjorn gripped your hand. "Good morning, Mr."

Eren smiled. "Good morning to you too."

You pointed away. "We're off to see Levi, so I'll see you soon."

"Sure!"

You pulled Bjorn along and through the station until you reached Levi's office. "Okay, my little man, this is Levi's office. Do you want to knock?"

Bjorn nodded. "Please."

He lightly knocked and heard Levi's deep welcoming voice. Bjorn reached up and moved the handle. He pushed the door with your help and slipped inside. He stood there and held his little breath as he stared at Levi behind his desk in his sheriff uniform. He wasn't scared of Levi, but amazed and interested.

"Wow." His little voice caused Levi to look up. Bjorn looked at you as you stepped into the room, then back at Levi. "G-Good morning, Mr. I am Bjorn. I am four and a half years old and I love my mummy, woodland animals, bunnies and water!"

Levi walked over to him. "Good morning to you too, Bjorn." He knelt and offered his hand. "I am Sheriff Levi Ackerman. I am twenty six years old. I also love your mummy very much, as well as tea, the woods, bunnies and the ocean."

Bjorn shook Levi's hand. "Mummy is the best. I want mummy to smile all the time and be happny."

Levi smiled at how protective Bjorn was. "Of course, me too." He looked over Bjorn's outfit. "I love your outfit, did you pick that out?"

"Yes. The jumper has a bunny on it."

Levi chuckled. "I can see that, I like it."

Bjorn looked at you. "Mummy? I like him."

You blushed. "I'm glad. I love him a lot."

Bjorn turned to Levi. "You may kiss and hug my mummy."

Levi stood up and approached you. "Well?"

You wrapped your arms around Levi and hugged him as you giggled. "Happy to hug you." You pulled back a bit and kissed him. You whispered to him. "You're doing amazing."

Levi sighed. "I'm glad. I like him, he's so cute."

"He's the best." You pulled back and smiled at Bjorn. "You ready to go?"

Bjorn nodded. "Mm, I'm hungry, mummy. May I have something to eat?"

Levi ruffled Bjorn's hair. "We'll go to a nice diner. You can eat anything you want."

Bjorn's eyes sparkled. "Thank you!"

Levi picked up his sheriff's hat. "You want to wear my hat?"

"May I?" Bjorn bounced up and down. "Please, Mr."

Levi put his hat on Bjorn's head. "Perfect."

You giggled when you saw how big it was. "Looks cute."

Bjorn gripped his hat and looked up at you with a bright smile. "I love this."

"That's cute, Bjorn."

Bjorn held your hand and reached for Levi's "Let's go."

Levi took Bjorn's hand with a gentle smile. He walked with you outside and slowly relaxed. Levi noticed Erwin was doing his mayoral rounds, so he waved over to him. "Morning, Erwin."

Erwin waved. "Morning. Oh! If it isn't my favourite little man. Morning, Bjorn."

Bjorn grinned. "Morning, Mr mayor!" He looked up at Levi. "May I be picked up?"

Levi felt honoured. "Of course." He picked Bjorn up and sat him on his shoulders. "Hold onto my head, okay?"

Bjorn did as Levi asked. "Okay. So high!"

Levi held your son's little legs to keep him safe. "Fun, right?"

He giggled. "Yes! Thank you."

You reached over and lightly gripped Levi's upper arm. You all walked over to the local diner. You thought about what to eat and the next meet up you could have. You were thinking the next time Levi could come over and see what it's like looking after Bjorn with you.

Levi sat Bjorn in a little seat before taking his hat off. "Because you are such a distinguished little gentleman, I will take your hat off for you."

Bjorn smiled. "Hats off indoors."

"You're so polite." He chuckled and pulled you close. "After you, my beautiful love."

You squeaked as he kissed you and then let you get into your seat. You were next to Bjorn, just in case he needed help and you appreciate that Levi did that for you. You showed Bjorn the menu and talked him through what there was.

You smiled sweetly at him. "Want to share a hotdog and fries with mummy?"

Bjorn nodded. "Yes, please."

Levi closed his menu. "Are you sure?"

You smiled at Levi. "The hotdogs are huge here, I could never finish it by myself. I can eat like two thirds of it."

He hummed in thought. "You're right." He placed the orders and then hugged you close. "You're so beautiful."

You blushed. "Thank you, handsome."

You kissed Levi and then chatted as a little group. It brought you so much joy to see Bjorn and Levi getting on so well. Levi was making your son laugh so much with his silly jokes. You really felt like the three of you could be a family and that's all you ever wanted.

Levi adored you so much and he thought Bjorn was wonderful. Levi had been so nervous to meet Bjorn after hearing so much about him. The love he had for you was so strong that he was going to make you his forever love. So, getting along with Bjorn was so important. Bjorn was such a wonderful kid that they got on so naturally. All worries just washed away.

After eating, Bjorn was struggling to stay awake now he was full. You cleaned his little face and hummed a bit. "We should head home."

Levi smiled. "Want me to carry him?"

You smiled back. "If you don't mind. It'll be another bonding thing for you two."

Levi lifted Bjorn up and held him close. "I got you, little buddy."

Bjorn whined and gripped Levi's shirt. "Thank you, daddy Levi."

Levi tensed up a bit, it surprised him to hear that and yet he loved it. "You're welcome." He walked with you and whispered. "He called me daddy."

You giggled at the bright look in Levi's eyes. "I was nervous about today, but it's got incredibly well. Bjorn and you got on like you were actually father and son. Sorry, if that makes you uncomfortable."

"It doesn't, it makes me happy. We've talked about what we want in life and this relationship. We both want marriage and kids." He blushed. "I want you."

You leaned over and kissed him. "I want you too, Levi."

#levi #aot levi #levi ackerman #aot fanfiction #snk levi #levi x y/n #fanfic #levi fanfiction #levi x you #levi x reader #levi x yn #levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman attack on titan #levi ackerman aot #levi ackerman x y/n #jelly fanfics

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shadowtriovibes · 1 year ago

Text

bewitched, bothered, and bewildered

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: E

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV sex, fluff and smut

Summary: "I would like to request Sebastian and MC wanting to have their first time and Seb being the bookworm he is doing some ~research in the restricted section on how to make MC feel good and when she discovers it finds it super sweet ❤"

Tonight he has a very specific quest as he wanders the underground stacks, keeping a mindful eye out for any nosy ghosts as he makes his way toward one of the sections he hasn’t ever had the mind to explore. A small piece of parchment is affixed to the end of the row, and in Scribner’s tight, precise scrawl he sees the words, "Sexually Explicit Materials." Sebastian smirks – precisely what he sought.

Throughout his years at Hogwarts, Sebastian has snuck into the Restricted Section of the library more times than he can recall.

It’s almost too easy to cause a distraction, conceal himself with Disillusionment and slip past Scribner to pick the lock and let himself into Hogwarts’ most valuable collection of rare books, obscure manuscripts, and other magical oddities deemed too advanced (or dangerous) for the average student.

As long as Peeves is otherwise occupied, he usually finds what he’s looking for without incident.

However, it’s been a while since Sebastian has found himself in need of a book from this particular section. Ever since you’d used Isadora’s magic to pull Anne’s curse from her frail body and store it in a goblin-made metal locket, he’d kept his word and avoided practicing any sort of Dark Arts.

He simply doesn’t need to anymore.

(...He still reads about it sometimes. But how else will he know what to avoid?)

A small piece of parchment is affixed to the end of the row, and in Scribner’s tight, precise scrawl he sees the words, “Sexually Explicit Materials.”

Sebastian smirks – precisely what he sought.

It’s an open secret amongst Hogwarts’ more senior students that somewhere hidden within the Restricted Section was an entire shelf of books all about, well… relations. Witches would whisper to each other about how they could probably find out everything they’d ever wanted to know about the mysterious opposite sex.

The wizards just hoped that could find some illustrations.

At least a few times per year, some ambitious students would attempt to get a teacher’s permission to access such books, but most failed. Sebastian, not willing to risk being turned down, figured it would be better to ask forgiveness if he was caught “borrowing” a few books rather than seek someone like Sharp’s permission.

He peered closely at the spines as he crept down the length of the aisle.

Smethwyk’s Guide to Marital Relations… Magickal Self-Knowledge… Sexual Behaviour in the Contemporary Wizard… Bewitching the Fairer Sexe…

That last one piques his interest.

He slides it off the shelf and gingerly opens the front cover, hoping that the book won’t start to sensually moan (or worse) and alert the librarian of his presence. Mercifully it remains silent, so he eagerly starts to flip through its pages.

Oh, there are illustrations and then some. The magical kind that move, at that.

Sebastian knows that if anyone were to catch him right now, he’d be terminally embarrassed. But he’s determined to read this book from cover to cover – not merely out of curiosity, but because he has a purpose now.

Since the two of you had decided to make the leap from friends to something more, you’ve already shared so many lovely milestones. To Sebastian, they were all meaningful: the first time you’d kissed, the first time you’d felt each other through your clothes, the first time you’d both had to spring apart and catch your breaths because things had gotten very intense very quickly. (That last memory is one of his favorites to relive.)

But earlier that week, you’d sprung on him that you were ready.

“Ready?” he’d asked dumbly.

“Ready,” you breathed, kissing down his jaw to his neck while you squirmed impatiently in his lap. “For you, for more.”

“You want more?” Sebastian sighed contently, tipping his head back so you can suck one of those claiming bruises you love to put on him. “We have all night, love, and I’m certainly in no rush.”

“I mean for sex,” you blurted out.

“Y-you said you’re ready for…?” he stammered. “W-well, I mean–”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,” you mumbled, immediately backing off. “You must think me truly wicked for even suggesting it.”

In fact, Sebastian wasn’t thinking much of anything at that moment. But he forced himself to focus and reassure you that he wasn’t upset with you at all.

He’s quite interested, it’s just… he feels hopelessly ignorant.

He knows you lived in the Muggle world until you were fifteen, and that there’s no such compunction about talking about sexual relations at that age within non-magic spaces. Witches and wizards remain staunchly conservative on the matter, however, and generally the topic of “marital intimacy” is firmly taboo in public at Hogwarts.

Students are undoubtedly curious, but many will remain pretty naive until they leave school.

You, however, are not ignorant. He’s fairly confident you’ve never indulged in that sort of behavior with anyone else, but your knowledge of what witches and wizards do together, what the two of you might do together is assuredly more robust than his own.

He simply can’t have that.

Sebastian slips Bewitching the Fairer Sexe into his school bag and sneaks back out of the library. He doesn’t crack it open again until he’s back in the dormitory with the curtains pulled tightly around his bed.

At first he doesn’t bother casting Silencio, because that’s not what this is about. He’s stubbornly focused on learning from this text, not on becoming distracted by all the enchanted illustrations of the erogenous zones of a witch’s body, or where exactly one should touch between her thighs to bring her to her climax, or even how a wizard can use his mouth to pleasure her…

Merlin, who is he kidding? Better do a Silencio just in case.

—

Sebastian clings to that book for nearly a full week before he’s caught.

By you, no less, which is horrifically embarrassing.

He’d even kept it hidden from his dormmates with the exception of Ominis, who can always tell when he’s got a secret. He just assures Sebastian that he couldn’t care less about a smutty book as long as it doesn’t involve any phonic components.

But he’d left it underneath his pillow with a single corner sticking out, and that’s all it took for you to find it when you let yourself into the seventh-year wizards’ room to borrow one of your love’s scarves for your afternoon walk down to Hogsmeade.

When you don’t return quickly, Sebastian goes upstairs to track you down.

He’s horrified to discover you sitting cross-legged on his bed, lazily flipping through the book.

“That’s not mine,” he blurts out in a panic.

“It was on your bed,” you counter, barely looking up from its pages. “Under your pillow, even.”

“You’re snooping through my things?” he demands as he feels himself flush red.

“Obviously,” you scoff. “Like you wouldn’t do the same if you could get into my room.”

“That’s not the point,” he insists. “I – will you quit looking at that?!”

“Why?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “It’s really quite informative, this book of yours. Not a bad resource.”

He anxiously runs a hand through his hair and mutters, “Merlin’s beard.”

“You know what might have been easier, though?” you say, finally closing the book and leaning over to drop it on Sebastian’s side table.

When he doesn’t answer, you get up from the bed and cross the room to him before taking his hands and placing them firmly on your waist.

“You could have just asked me,” you say softly.

He immediately makes a face.

“What?” you protest.

“I just… I wanted to figure out what I’m doing before coming to you,” he admits. “Felt like I was supposed to.”

“Why’s that?” you ask softly, winding your arms around his shoulders.

“I’m a wizard,” Sebastian says as if it’s supposed to be obvious. “I’m not supposed to be so clueless.”

You gently remind him, “But you’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“You’ve never had a boyfriend,” he retorts.

“Sure, but I had Muggle friends,” you explain. “They talk about sex, they’re not as repressed as you wizards.”

“If you think I’m repressed, may I introduce you to Ominis?” Sebastian jokes, and you roll your eyes fondly.

“All I’m saying is, I may know a thing or two,” you murmur as you raise up onto your tiptoes to kiss him. “And we can always talk about what we want.”

As you kiss him, Sebastian stubbornly thinks, I know a thing or two as well now.

His hands drift from your waist down to your hips as he pulls you closer, earning a soft sigh from you that makes him smile against your lips.

“Tell me what you want then,” he asks as his hands continue sliding down to your ass.

“Right now?” you ask softly. “Here?”

“If you want,” he offers. “Everyone else is out for the day, we have all afternoon.”

“Yes,” you gasp, and Sebastian isn’t sure if you’re agreeing with him or reacting to him slipping his hands underneath your skirt to feel your bare skin.

He steals a few more increasingly urgent kisses before breaking away from you to put a quick locking spell on the door.

You return to Sebastian’s bed while he shrugs off his jacket, promptly abandoning it on the floor. His vest and shirt follow while you watch with an expectant look.

Before reaching for his belt, he skeptically looks you up and down. “Why aren’t you taking your clothes off?”

“I was hoping you would do it for me,” you say softly.

Merlin, you are absolutely going to be the death of him one of these days.

Thoughts of his belt abandoned, Sebastian joins you on the bed and cups your face in his hands so he can thoroughly kiss you before getting to work taking off your uniform. By now you’ve both seen a fair bit more of each other than you have of anyone else, but never like this – never fully bare.

Your vest and tie are simple enough as they’re just like his own, but once he starts unbuttoning your shirt, he reveals a whole new layer: a thin chemise that sits just below your shoulders tucked inside a simple white corset that cinches your waist. Its seams drew clear attention to your breasts, and Sebastian wishes he could simply charm the damn thing right off you.

However, he remembers from his reading that you might enjoy being rid of it by his hands instead, slowly building the sort of anticipation that his book had claimed witches crave in the bedroom.

He feels vindicated each time your breath hitches when he slips open another one of the corset’s delicate hooks. Once the garment goes slack and falls open to your sides, he enthusiastically slides his hands beneath your chemise and cups your breasts in his hands.

“Touch me,” you groan, arching your back.

“I am touching you,” he teases.

You whine frustratedly and place your hands over his through your shirt, encouraging him to properly take hold of you.

That won’t do, Sebastian thinks. He wants to reassure you that he is not naive to your pleasure, that he knows exactly where he needs to touch you to drive you mad.

He’s read that you’re sensitive here, especially when you’re wanting for touch. He drags his thumbs over your nipples, both at the same time, and you sigh his name.

If he hasn’t already been growing hard in his trousers, that certainly would have done it.

“Touch you here is what you meant, hmm?” he murmurs as he rubs slow circles over your tender peaks. “Let’s try to be more specific next time, love.”

You don’t even bother telling him to bugger off, which lets him know he’s gotten you worked up already.

You pout endearingly when Sebastian removes his hands from your chest. He assuages you with a quick kiss before coaxing you into arching your back for him again so he can toss the corset to the floor. Then he pulls your chemise up over your head and quickly chucks it away as well. Now he can actually see your chest, already flushed pink from just his hands.

You cry out when he licks one of your stiff nipples and takes it into his mouth. He moans into your skin and sucks at you, remembering having read to be gentle with you here. You reward his efforts by twisting your fingers into his curls to hold him against your breast and stroking your thumb along his hollowed cheek.

Amused, he recalls being a younger student and hearing some of the seventh-year insisting that witches tasted like a wide range of things. Often they insisted the taste was either floral or sweet like sugar candies, but one of them had even claimed he’d pressed his lips to his girlfriend’s chest and tasted elderflower wine.

You don’t taste like any of those things. On his tongue Sebastian notices only the clean taste of warm skin, like when he kisses your neck, and maybe a lingering note of the rosewater perfume you sometimes wear. It’s heady and human and maddeningly perfect.

“Just like that, Seb,” you whine.

Beneath him, your legs fall open wider and your skirt is rucked up to the middle of your thighs. Sebastian thinks it’s a crying shame you’re even still wearing the silly thing, so he pulls away from you with a filthy wet sound and reaches for the clasp at the side of your skirt.

“Lift up,” he murmurs and you tilt your hips so he can tug your skirt down. He easily hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your undergarments as well so that he can get you naked all at once.

You’re a sight straight from one of his daydreams like this – nude and flushed all over with your legs spread in his bed.

He grips his cock through his trousers to give himself some much-needed relief while you observe with a covetous stare.

“I want to see you,” you tell him. “And don’t you dare say ‘you can already see me’ or some nonsense, I want to see your cock.”

“As you wish, love,” he says cheekily.

After undoing his trousers, Sebastian shoves them and his own undergarments down to the middle of his thighs. He can’t resist the urge to stroke himself a few times before letting you take a look.

As far as “wand lengths” go, he never much worried about comparing himself to others; he thought he could safely say that he was at least average. Now though, the seconds feel like minutes underneath your gaze. You’re quite red in the face and your eyes are wider than usual, and he suddenly realizes that it’s the first time anyone else has ever looked at him like this.

He didn’t think it would feel that significant, but it does.

“Well?” Sebastian asks teasingly, desperate for you to say something.

Finally, you stutter, “W-well, you’re definitely bigger than my fingers.”

“Your fingers?” he says. “You mean when you…?”

“Yes,” you squeak. “And now I’m nervous it’s going to hurt.”

He frowns. “Oh.”

“B-but I want to!” you quickly insist. “I just think, um. Maybe we can start with something else?”

“Love,” Sebastian murmurs fondly, leaning down to kiss your jaw. “Of course we’re going to work our way there, I wasn’t ever going to just put it in right away.”

“No?” you sigh distractedly.

“Aren’t you witches supposed to love foreplay?” he teases. “I read all about it in my book.”

“What’s that?” you ask him.

He raises an eyebrow and you continue to stare at him expectantly.

“I thought you were supposed to ‘know a thing or two,’” he says. “Foreplay is everything we do before the actual, er. Penetrative part. Surely you weren’t expecting to just…?”

Everything Sebastian had read had told him that under no circumstances should he press inside you without ensuring you were prepared. He’d poured over the illustrations that instructed him how to use his fingers to stimulate you, how to help acclimate you to feeling full before he filled you with his cock. (He learned he could even use his tongue to do the job, which sounds bloody brilliant.)

“I – I don’t know,” you admit. “I mean, I know you’re going to go inside. And I know how I use my fingers on myself sometimes, but I just…”

You trail off sheepishly. “Maybe I didn’t know as much as I thought.”

Sebastian is quite pleased by this turn of events. “Bet you’re glad I found that book then, aren’t you?”

You scoff and spread your legs a little bit wider. “Let’s see it then, you know-it-all. Show me this ‘foreplay’ of yours.”

He quickly shoves his pants the rest of the way off and kneels between your legs, one hand gently resting on the lowest part of your stomach. He thinks you’re even lovelier between your thighs than the illustrations, with your taut, delicate skin flushed pink and glistening wet at your entrance.

“Just one to start,” he mumbles to himself, pressing the tip of his middle finger against your slit with his palm up just as he’d learned.

Your body opens up for Sebastian so beautifully that if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that this must surely be some kind of ancient magic in itself – perhaps a primordial form as old as wizardkind.

His mouth on you earlier has gotten you plenty wet, and inside you’re soft as silk and feverishly warm. He curses under his breath at the realization that soon enough, he’ll feel this on his cock. (He has no idea how he’ll ever be able to go back to his own hand and some salve after this.)

“Good?” he asks you distractedly.

“Yes,” you sigh.

He glances up to check your expression and finds that your eyes have slipped shut, and there’s a blissful smile on your lips.

Determined to keep you focused, Sebastian murmurs, “Tell me how you use your fingers on yourself.”

“I – I usually use two, maybe three,” you admit shyly. “But my hands are smaller than yours.”

“Do you like to think about anything while you touch yourself?” he asks in a low voice.

You whine like you’re overwhelmed, but your hips cant toward his hand and he can tell what you’re asking for. He pulls out until just the tip of his finger is inside you, and then he presses back in with his index finger tucked alongside it.

“Yes, Seb,” you whimper.

“Go on then, tell me what you think about,” he croons. “I’ll tell you what I think about if you do.”

He starts to fuck his hand into you like that, burying two long fingers in you all the way to the knuckle. Watching you take him inside you like this is a thousand times more captivating than any illustration in any smutty book that’s ever been published, he’s sure of it.

“I can’t,” you protest. “We aren’t supposed to — that’s dirty, talking about that.”

“Dirtier than this?” he asks wryly. “Love, you can tell me anything.”

You stay stubbornly silent until Sebastian presses his thumb to that swollen nub that peeks out just above your entrance, the one that looks like it’s aching to be touched. Just the lightest touch elicits a broken moan out of you.

“Tell me what you think about and I’ll give you a third finger,” he bargains.

“P-please,” you beg. “I just – I just think about you, you on top of me, what your body looks like, it’s always just you.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he taunts as he makes good on his word and starts to press his ring finger in alongside the other two.

This time there’s noticeably more resistance. You were right, you do have smaller hands than him and his three longer, masculine fingers are more of a stretch than you typically give yourself. Sebastian laves more attention onto your clit, pressing his thumb against you a bit harder to distract you. You’re still plenty wet, and he assumes that’s a promising sign.

Your brow is furrowed in concentration as you try to relax for his fingers, but you nevertheless remember to demand that he tell you his fantasies.

“You want to know what I think about?” he asks casually. “It’s been the same thing for a while, really.”

“W-what is it?” you ask, stuttering a little when he succeeds in pressing all three fingers deep inside you.

“It’s you, in my bed, moaning my name, begging for me to fuck you,” he tells you. “Every time I stroke myself off, that’s all I need.”

He punctuates each detail with a thrust of his hand. You’re slick all over by now, and Sebastian has to imagine that a lesser wizard would give up at this point and eagerly replace his fingers with his cock.

But he’s not done with you yet. He’d been quite surprised to learn from that wonderful book that many witches can reach multiple climaxes in a row, provided they’re being seen to by a courteous wizard. He wants to give you your first right now, before he becomes distracted by chasing his own.

“Are you going to come, love?” Sebastian asks. “Just from my fingers?”

“N-no, I want to wait until you’re inside me,” you protest weakly, but your hips are rocking up to meet him with every thrust of his hand.

“Let me make you come like this,” he bargains. “I’m not going to stop at one, darling, I’ll make sure you’re completely satisfied.”

Your thighs are properly trembling now – Merlin, you must be right on the edge. That’s when Sebastian gets the idea of leaning down and replacing his thumb on your clit with his tongue.

Immediately his world goes dark as you clamp your thighs around his head and wail.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you chant as he seals his lips against your skin. “Seb, please!”

He feels you get even tighter around his fingers when you come. He can barely even move them for several long seconds, so he focuses instead on drawing out your pleasure with his mouth. You hold him there with your legs until you can’t take the stimulation anymore, and when he pulls out of you and sits back on his heels, he imagines he must look mad.

Hair mussed, pupils blown, lips wet… you’ve made an utter fiend out of him.

“Suppose I did alright, then,” he observes with a smirk.

“Sebastian,” you sigh weakly. “Come kiss me.”

He bends down so you can wordlessly express your thanks with a lewd kiss – one that tastes like your own body’s release. It’s erotic, and wanton, and it reminds Sebastian of his aching, ignored cock that’s assuredly leaking all over his sheets by now.

“You must be in a dire state by now,” you observe, lips brushing against his.

“That’s an understatement,” he jokes. “I think I might faint if I wait any longer.”

“Then don’t wait,” you coo. “Go on, Seb, you can.”

He clenches his jaw hard when he sits back to guide his cock against your entrance. There’s no way he’s going to last long in this state, not with you spread open and waiting for him like this. Squeezing his hand around the base of his cock helps a bit while he sinks inside you, but he still feels overpowered by the immensity of the feeling of filling you up.

“Merlin, you’re big,” you hiss. “B-but it’s okay, I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?” he manages to ask.

You press your hands to his bare chest and he understands that it’s a wordless plea for him to pause, just for a moment. It’s pure torture, but he remains still inside you while you adjust.

“Merlin,” you whisper. “You’re really… we’re really…”

“I’m begging you, don’t say another word,” Sebastian grits out. “Or this will be over right now.”

You giggle, flattered by his admission, and even the motion of your body laughing threatens to put him over the edge.

“You know I don’t care about that,” you tell him softly. “Forget about your pride. I just want you to feel as good as you made me feel.”

Now Sebastian is the one at a loss for words, merely moaning as you drag your hands down his chest to his hips and encourage him to move.

Once he starts, he can’t stop. He tries to remember everything he’d read in that damn book: maintain a steady rhythm, don’t pull out all the way, keep pleasuring her with your hands…

Most of it he quickly disregards. He thinks to himself, how could he be doing this wrong? This feeling, fucking you, it feels like an instinct he never knew he had. He has to fill you over and over with his cock, he simply must.

And judging by the way you’re arching your back and crying out his name while he slams into you, he’s not leaving you unsatisfied.

In fact, he nearly sees stars when you slip a hand between your bodies and hurriedly rub at your clit until you’re coming again in what has to be some sort of record time. Only this time, when you reach your peak and your walls tighten around his cock, there’s nothing he can do to stop himself from falling right over the edge with you.

Sebastian feels properly spent by the time you both come back to your senses. Still buried inside you, he can feel how he’s filled you up with his release. It satisfies something in his feral hindbrain that much prefers spilling inside of you rather than his own hand.

He sees it start to leak out of you when he pulls out, and he recalls reading that a good wizard should offer his witch a rag to clean up after such a marvelous ending. He attempts to climb off the bed to track one down but you hook your leg behind his knee and whine for him to stay.

“I just want to get you–”

“No, I don’t need anything but you,” you insist, reaching for him to tug him down against your body.

Sebastian bests you when it comes to both height and breadth, but you don’t seem to mind his weight pinning you to the mattress. (Though even if you did, there’s hardly room for the two of you to lie beside each other in one of Hogwarts’ infuriatingly small beds.)

You’re both quiet for a while as you enjoy the simplicity of each other’s company, occasionally sharing a few lazy kisses or a whispered reminder of your love.

Eventually, Sebastian drawls, “I reckon I can return that book now.”

“Hold on,” you counter. “There may be some more tricks in there that we might want to try next time.”

“You dirty minx,” he laughs. “I suppose I’ve ‘bewitched’ you, have I?”

“Sebastian Sallow, I was bewitched by you quite long ago,” you tell him. “But we’ll have to wait and see whether that dirty book of yours gives you any more brilliant ideas for what to do with me.”

He thinks he quite likes the sound of that.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #my fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x reader #requests #another loss of virginity fic whoopsie #sebastian “i must be good at everything immediately or what's the point” sallow

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dreamwritesimagines · 2 years ago

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Garden of Secrets [6] - Hibiscus

A.N: Thank you so much for your amazing feedback and support my loves!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Whispers are made for midnights.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of possibility of physical abuse, past trauma and violence.

Word Count: 5600

Series Masterlist

No matter what anyone else thought or assumed, you weren’t jealous.

That would have been ridiculous. Getting jealous of someone like him, someone who was the complete opposite of you with his silly fixation of love was out of question, so at best you were merely annoyed by this whole…

Charade.

That was what it was. It was an absolute charade, and you still found it hard to believe that you were somehow caught in the middle of it.

“Clover my dear, you’re not going to believe this,” your aunt’s voice made your head snap up from the geraniums you were currently tending to in the garden.

“Good morning to you too auntie,” you said, wiping the sweat off your brow before taking your gardening gloves off. “What’s happened?”

She waved what looked to be the newest issue of Whistledown at you.

“Look at this!”

“What?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat. “Don’t tell me she wrote about me again. I didn’t even attend the last ball, there’s nothing to write about.”

“Well, you were not there but Kitty Morris was,” she said, still waving the paper. “And she has made use of your absence, if you don’t mind me saying. Look at the first paragraph.”

You frowned and reached out to take the paper from her, then skimmed the lines.

Dear Readers,

It seems that the ton’s favorite artist Benedict Bridgerton’s attention is quite easy to sway. As if it was not enough that Charlotte Harlowe’s hopes for a matrimony with him has been shut down quite brutally with Miss Y/N’s sudden raise to suitors’ demand, it certainly looks like Kitty Morris might have just gotten what she has been trying to get since the beginning of the season. The guests of the Phillips ball couldn’t help but notice how happy Miss Morris was during her dance with Mr. Bridgerton whose eyes kept searching the crowd. This writer can only assume that his dance partners, as pleasant as they were, were not very entertaining seeing that he left the ballroom quite early, and was seen returning home in the early hours of the morning.

The rest of it was about Daphne and Duke Hastings along with Mr. Phillips’ dance with Lady Anne at the said ball, and you tried your hardest to ignore the way your stomach sunk, that bitter taste climbing up your throat but when you raised your head to look at your aunt, your expression was completely blank.

“Good for Kitty Morris.”

“Clover.”

“What?” you asked as you gave her the paper back, then put your gloves on again. “I gather they’d make a good couple.”

“Don’t do that.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you said through your teeth as you dug the small shovel into the soil and accidentally hitting the big rock underneath. “I have better things to think about than Benedict Bridgerton’s many romantic dalliances.”

“It’s alright if you just told me if it bothers you,” she insisted. “It’s just me my dear, and I know you have a soft spot for him—”

“I do not have a soft spot for him auntie,” you cut her off. “I barely know him.”

“You do not have to know everything about him to have certain…feelings for him.”

“The only feeling I have for him is annoyance,” you said, now forgoing the shovel to dig your fingers into the soil, trying to pull out the rock but it didn’t budge. “And who he dances with does not bother me at all.”

“Why didn’t you go to the ball?”

You stopped trying to pull out the rock, huffing out a breath. You had planned to go to that ball at first, in fact, you had even picked your dress and such the day before, and then…

And then that dream had happened.

Even remembering what it was like was enough to send a fire over your face. You could still taste his kiss on your lips, both of you tangled in each other’s arms in your bed, his mouth swallowing your gasp as he—

You shook your head slightly to snap yourself out of your thoughts and bit inside your cheek.

“I told you,” you managed to say. “I had a stomachache.”

She tilted her head, giving you a knowing look.

“Nervousness?”

“…Lemonade,” you ended up saying. “Why would I be nervous?”

“Because you like his presence?”

“No, I—” You were cut off when you pulled out the stone so fast that it accidentally hit the wood of the small fence around the geraniums with a loud crack and you cleared your throat, then put the stone aside. “I barely notice his presence if I’m honest.”

“Oh is that right?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Whistledown is right for once, his attention seems to be easily swayed as all other artists. I couldn’t possibly like his presence if I tried.”

“Regardless,” she said. “You’re still coming to the poetry recital?”

You clicked your tongue. “Will he be there?”

“I think so,” she said. “But it shouldn’t bother you at all. After all, you barely notice his presence, do you not?”

You paused only for a moment before you took a deep breath and smiled.

“Precisely,” you said. “Should be easy enough.”

“Y/N!” Teddy’s voice echoed through the garden and he ran up to you. “A really pretty lady came to visit you!”

You pulled your brows together and took off the gloves again. “What?”

Teddy pointed at the house and you turned your head to see Charlotte entering the garden. Your aunt was as surprised as you were but she managed to cover that much faster than you did.

“Miss Harlowe!” she said, “What a lovely surprise!”

“Lady Thorne,” Charlotte said with a quick curtsy. “Hello Y/N!”

“Hello?”

“Teddy dear, come with me, let’s go back to the house,” your aunt said as he took his hand and Teddy stole a look at Charlotte before looking up at your aunt.

“She’s so pretty auntie,” he said with a very loud whisper, making you smile and Charlotte pressed a hand over her chest.

“Aw you’re the sweetest, Teddy!” she said and Teddy bowed in an exaggerated manner, no doubt mimicking older lords he had seen before and took your aunt’s hand before going back to the house with him.

“Your brother is adorable,” Charlotte said as she sat beside you on the ground. “Are these geraniums? I love geraniums!”

You blinked a couple of times. “Lottie, what are you doing here?”

“I came to spend time with you of course,” she said. “I was thinking perhaps after this, we could go to the bookshop? I’d like to get familiar with the poetry that will be read this evening beforehand.”

“Why would we do that?”

“Well I don’t like it when they read it and I hear it for the first time,” she said. “That’s also why I always read the ending of the novels first before starting on them, I like knowing what happens beforehand.”

“Lottie—”

“Anyway, I know it’s not the same with poetry but it’s still nice to know the themes. I heard the theme will be longing, that should be interesting! I don’t really understand why people do that though, it cannot be that difficult to talk of one’s feelings, especially if you’re in love.”

“Lottie, did we make plans before and I forgot?” you asked and she shrugged her shoulders.

“No,” she said. “I just did not have anything to do today, so I figured we could spend some time together.”

“Because…?”

“Because we’re friends!” she said as if that was all the explanation you needed, but that explanation just made you even more confused. Her smile widened at the surprised look on your face and she clapped her hands together.

“So,” she said. “Tell me more about geraniums and after we’re done here, I’ll tell you about my favorite poems.”

You thought for a second, then shook your head slightly and pulled the gardening gloves off your hands.

“Alright then,” you muttered, trying to repress a smile. “Why not?”

Spending time with Lottie was genuinely entertaining. It was as if she was raised in a perfect world where everyone was happy and had no problems other than picking what book to read next. After your visit to the bookshop, you had gotten back home, written your sister a letter talking about Lottie and put it on the small desk to make sure it would be sent tomorrow, then started getting ready for the evening.

You were going to attend a poetry reading on longing and if this was not a sign that the universe had decided to give you a hard time personally, you didn’t know what it was.

“At least the garden is pretty,” you commented to your aunt as you both walked through it to approach the big house and your aunt looked around.

“Oh it really is,” she commented. “Not prettier than yours though.”

“You’re such a master at lying auntie, has anyone ever told you that?” you joked as you linked your arm with hers and she let out a laugh.

“I only say what I see,” she said. “For example, now I see Lord Shaw making his way to us with a hopeful look on his face.”

You repressed a groan and came to a slow stop with your aunt as Lord Shaw more or less threw himself your way.

“Lady Thorne,” he greeted your aunt. “Miss Y/N.”

“Lord Shaw.”

“You look so beautiful my lady.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “Thank you.”

“I wasn’t aware you liked poetry.”

“I do not,” you said and your aunt discreetly poked you on the ribs, making you clear your throat. “I mean…I have yet to find one that is appealing to me, so my search continues.”

“Perhaps tonight your search will be over and you will be taken by one of the poems.”

“I doubt it,” you muttered and he tilted his head.

“Pardon?”

“I hope I will,” you answered him and turned your head when you heard your name being called, your eyes falling on Daphne who was waving at you.

“Oh my goodness, I see my dear friend over there,” you said. “I hope you enjoy the evening Lord Shaw. Auntie.”

Your aunt repressed a smile and shook her head slightly but didn’t comment on it as you walked away from them to approach Daphne

“I swear to God the next man who tries to make small talk with me…” you grumbled and she let out a laugh.

“I could tell,” she said. “You looked truly tormented.”

“I am tormented.”

“Because you have suitors?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I can only be so intimidating when I’m in front of my aunt. Have you seen Charlotte?”

“She’s not here yet,” she said. “I heard some of them were intimidated by the way.”

“Not enough of them,” you said. “How about you? Where’s your favorite suitor?”

“The Duke will not attend as I’ve been told by Lady Danbury,” she said. “Which means I will be approached by less….favored suitors as soon as I’m alone.”

“You could be mean to them?”

“The same way you could be nice to them?” Daphne asked with a grin, then held her breath as if a thought struck her, her eyes stopping somewhere over your shoulder for a moment. “Y/N, I would like to make a deal with you for tonight.”

You pulled your brows. “What is it?”

“I shall be mean to the first person who talks to me, and you shall be nice to the first person who talks to you.”

“I’m unable to be nice Daph.”

“As nice as you can be,” she insisted and you rolled your eyes, heaving a dramatic sigh.

“Fine,” you grumbled, “I guess I will be nice to the first man who starts a conversation—”

“Miss Y/N,” Benedict’s voice cut through your sentence as he entered your sight, almost out of breath. “Hello.”

You frowned, looking around. “…Did you just materialize out of thin air?”

“How are you?”

“No I swear to God you weren’t anywhere near here a moment ago—”

“This is a conversation that I’m starting,” he said as if he didn’t hear you and you threw your head back to look up at the sky, then turned to him.

“Of course it is,” you said and turned to Daphne. “I take it back, you can be mean.”

“I have no idea what you speak of,” she told you with a grin. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go talk to mama until a suitor comes along that I can be mean to. That’s the deal after all.”

“You will pay for this Daphne.”

“I’m not intimidated at all,” she called back as she walked away from you and Benedict, and you crossed your arms, turning to look up at him, willing to push the memory of the dream to the back of your mind.

“What do you want?”

He tilted his head. “This is you being nice?”

“Yes,” you deadpanned. “Can’t you tell?”

Benedict shot you that playful smile of his and despite your better judgement, your heart skipped a beat.

“I thought you’d hate poetry.”

“I don’t know why you would think that,” you said as you grabbed a lemonade from the tray a maid was holding. “I happen to be a lover of poetry.”

A surprised look crossed his face. “Really?”

“No!” you grimaced. “Obviously not. I find it incredibly vexing when people talk about their feelings, what makes you think I’d read about them willingly?”

Benedict’s smile widened. “Right, of course.”

“You love it, I gather,” you said before you took a sip. “As artists do. I heard you’ve been getting quite the inspiration lately.”

He was smart enough to understand the double innuendo, no doubt thinking back to the last time you had snapped at him at the ballroom and he bit down a smile.

“I don’t know where you’ve heard it from Miss Y/N,” he said. “And I know better than to assume anything about you or how you feel—”

“That’s a welcomed surprise.”

“But a simple listener would think you’re jealous.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach doing a flip.

“Jealous?” you repeated with a scoff. “Of you being—being inspired?”

He shot you a mischievous smirk. “Seems that way, would you not say?”

“Not at all.”

“No?”

“No because I doubt the outcome would be worth much if inspiration is that easy to be at anyone’s service,” you pointed out, your voice like a silk and then let an innocent smile pull at your lips. “And that enthusiastic to sate their desire for…art.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was impressed as he raised his brows, letting out a breath of disbelief.

“Well played.”

“Why thank you,” you said as you sipped your lemonade again but both of you turned your heads as a giggle reached you. Kitty Morris stole a look at you before turning to talk to her friends and you repressed a laugh.

“That’s your cue,” you said and he tilted his head.

“What?”

“Your dance partner is giggling in your direction, what more of a sign do you need?”

“My dance partner?” he asked, then heaved a sigh as the thought hit him. “Lady Whistledown.”

“Mm hm. Off you go.”

“I’m not going,” he insisted. “If only you were there at the ball, you—”

“Mr. Bridgerton,” Kitty’s voice reached you two as she approached you and you arched a brow. “And Miss Y/N. Good evening.”

“Miss Morris,” Benedict said and a smile lit up her face.

“I was just telling my friend how excited I am for tonight’s poems,” she said. “I’m such an admirer of every aspect of art you see.”

“With no inspiration, apparently,” you muttered under your breath and Benedict managed to stop the small chuckle threatening to leave his lips by clearing his throat.

“That’s lovely to hear Miss Morris.”

“And what is your favorite poem that will be read tonight?”

You could feel the fire of the anger bubbling at the pit of your stomach as Kitty shot him a glance from under her lashes and you clicked your tongue.

“I’d better leave the poetry admirers such as you to your conversation,” you said and Benedict shook his head fervently.

“No we’re just—”

“No it’s alright,” you said. “Enjoy your evening Mr. Bridgerton. Miss Morris.”

She shot you a forced smile before turning to Benedict who looked genuinely disappointed that you were leaving but you refused to let it make you linger there any longer. You turned around and made your way to your aunt, still trying to repress that unfamiliar anger threatening to take over you.

But for some reason, trying to repress that did not work.

You had zero idea what the poems were really about or what their overall themes were; apparently tonight had to test your patience since Kitty had sat right behind you with her sisters. They hadn’t stopped whispering for the last hour and it was only when the person at the front row asked a question about a line that their whispering became clear enough for you to hear.

“Mark my words, he will ask me for a dance at the next ball as well.”

“Perhaps you are his muse!”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if I was. He is very fond of talking with me as you can see.”

“Oh Kitty!”

“Perhaps he will propose to you by the end of the season!”

You could taste the bitterness climbing up your throat and you gritted your teeth, pressing a hand over your bodice before reaching out to touch your aunt’s hand.

“Y/N?”

“I will go to the washroom and be back,” you whispered and walked out of the room, but instead of going down the hallway, you descended the stairs and stepped out of the house. The cool fresh air was a great remedy to the bitter fire in your chest so you took a deep breath, then stood on your tiptoes to get a better look at the garden. The flowers were as expected from any rich house, rows and rows of roses and tulips and looked around to see whether there was anything different, but it was a bit hard in the moonlight. You approached the flower beds, inspecting the roses closer but you turned around when someone cleared their throat, your heart climbing up to your throat as soon as you saw Benedict.

“What are you doing here?”

Benedict put his hands into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. “This is the one night you will be nice to me, I’m not wasting it sitting in a room where I can’t even talk to you.”

You repressed a smile and crossed your arms.

“And you decided to risk my reputation?”

“No one will be leaving that room for a while, they just started on Byron.”

“Of course they did,” you muttered and turned to the flowers. “Whose house is this again?”

“Lord and Lady Lowell.”

“Who told them to spare the whole garden to tulips and roses and nothing more?”

“It’s not just tulips and roses.”

You motioned around. “Do you see anything else?”

Benedict tilted his head, giving you a mischievous grin. “I’m guessing that means you haven’t seen the greenhouse yet?”

Your head shot up. “There’s a greenhouse?”

“Mm hm,” he said. “There’s mostly fruit and vegetables and some herbs though. Do you want to see it?”

“It’s probably locked.”

“They don’t keep it locked.”

You raised your brows. “And you know that how?”

He looked a bit taken aback and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh…I—I heard it from…someone.”

You scoffed. “Oh I’m sure,” you said. “You remember that I carry a knife, right?”

“Trust me, that knowledge refuses to leave my mind.”

“Even if I go there with you, the moment you think you can try something I would not hesitate to cut you.”

He held up his hands. “I swear on my honor,” he said. “I just…haven’t seen you for a while, that’s all. I was hoping we could talk, I do not expect or ask for anything more.”

“What makes you think I want to talk to you?”

“You haven’t walked away from me yet.”

You pulled your brows together and rolled your eyes.

“Fine,” you said with a dramatic sigh. “Lead the way.”

The greenhouse was on the other side of the garden, away from anyone else’s gaze. Benedict opened the door and stepped aside so that you could slip into the greenhouse before him and your eyes searched the place, and you tilted your head.

It looked more like a food garden than a greenhouse.

This was what you didn’t understand about the people owning greenhouses. They didn’t appreciate it, if one day in the future you had a greenhouse, you were going to fill it with all kinds of rare plants and flowers rather than growing only vegetables and fruits.

“You were not jesting,” you muttered as you walked in the greenhouse slowly and he leaned back to the glass wall.

“No flowers though.”

“No,” you said as you approached to look at the tiny strawberries, then ripped one out to toss it at Benedict. He caught it mid-air and shot you an exaggerated look of shock.

“Scandal, Miss Y/N,” he said. “Where are your manners?”

You shrugged your shoulders and popped a strawberry into your mouth.

“Do you honestly think Lady Lowell steps a foot here?” you asked. “Most probably her gardener does, and something tells me he would not mind. Besides, I thought you wanted me to be nice to you.”

“It does make a lovely change now that you mention it,” he commented as he sat back on one of the narrow wooden counters, keeping his gaze on you while you made your way around the greenhouse. “Why did you leave me with Kitty Morris of all people?”

You looked at him over your shoulder before taking a look at the hibiscus flower in front of you.

For tea, probably.

“I merely assumed you two had much to talk about.”

“Y/N.”

“She likes poetry too,” you said, trying to repress the smile threatening to pull at your lips as you approached the rosemary plant in the pot. “And art.”

“Can you be nice to a person for only half a minute? I will not judge, I just wish to know.”

“I am being nice to you, I haven’t even insulted you yet,” you played along before you turned to glare at him. “That being said, if you ever told about this to anyone—”

He grinned. “No worries. The rest of the ton shall remain intimidated by you. It does not leave here.”

“Good,” you commented and ran your palm over the rosemary, then went to the next potted plant to take a closer look at it.

Mint. It was mint.

“Well this brings back memories,” you muttered as you ripped a leaf to chew on it and Benedict hummed.

“How come?”

“Me and my sister used to play this game…” you trailed off before you stopped yourself. “Never mind, it’s foolish.”

“No I want to know,” he said. “What game?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “There wasn’t much of entertainment back in the countryside so us and some of her friends, we would go to a garden, and we would ask each other questions and point at a plant or whatever was there. You had to either answer the question truthfully or eat whatever the others pointed at.”

Benedict clapped his hands together and pushed himself off the wall, rolling his shoulders back as if he was getting ready for some sort of a sport.

“Let’s do it then.”

You blinked a couple of times. “What?”

“Come on. Unless of course you’d rather go back to that room to hear more about Byron’s feelings when he wrote She Walks in Beauty.”

You arched a brow. “Is that bitterness I hear?”

“I do not like his lines,” he said curtly. “Let’s play.”

“You cannot beat me at that game.”

“That’s not what I’m after,” he said. “Will you ask first or shall I?”

You heaved a deep sigh and walked among the counters, then ripped a tiny tomato and tossed it his way. He caught it and shrugged his shoulders.

“If I didn’t know you, I’d think you’re going easy on me.”

“It’s just the start,” you said. “Will you propose to Kitty Morris by the end of the season?”

His eyes widened and he shook his head fervently.

“What?” he asked. “No! Who told you that?”

“She hopes for it,” you said with a small grin and he scoffed.

“No thank you. I would never,” he tossed you back the tomato. “My turn. Why did you not come to the last ball?”

You wiped the tomato with the skirts of your dress and popped it into your mouth, shooting him a smile.

“Fair enough,” he commented and you looked around, then grabbed the small green pepper off the plant and threw it for him to catch.

“What did you do after you left the ballroom until the morning?”

He held up the pepper as if toasting you and popped it into his mouth, then started coughing.

“Jesus Christ…” he said as he swallowed it and hit his chest with his fist, grimacing. “My compliments to Lady Lowell’s gardener, this is extremely hot.”

“That one is going to be even worse,” you nodded at the red pepper and he heaved a sigh.

“Of course it will,” he muttered and ripped an asparagus before tossing it your way. “Are you still angry at me because I was late to the ball that one time?”

You bit off the asparagus and chewed on it, making him frown.

“Jesus, is there anything you don’t eat?”

“Told you that you couldn’t beat me at this,” you said. “Josie once made me eat a whole radish with the soil and everything on it on a dare, this is nothing.”

“Josie?”

“My sister,” you said. “Josephine. My turn.”

You reached out for the tiny red pepper this time, making him let out a groan that somehow made a spark of lightning shoot through you but you bit inside your cheek and tossed it at him.

“Here.”

“Please ask me something I can actually answer.”

You raised your brows. “Is there really nothing between you and Lottie or are you two just keeping it a secret?”

“There’s nothing going on between me and her,” he said, his voice completely clear as he shook his head in a determined manner. “We have never seen each other that way, nor will we ever. Charlie is one of the best people I’ve ever known in my life and whoever she marries will be the luckiest man in the world.”

“But not you?”

“Not me,” he said. “She’d tell you the same if you asked her. It’s just… we’re friends.”

You hummed and shrugged your shoulders.

“Very well,” you said. “Your turn.”

He looked around, then walked to rip a stem of grapes, causing you to scrunch up your face.

“Pick something else.”

His jaw dropped before he shot you a smug smile and tossed the stem your way.

“Not a chance, I pick this one.”

“Come on,” you whined as you turned the grapes in your hand. “I hate grapes, and these aren’t even ripe!”

“You know everything you say convinces me not to pick anything else, right?”

“I hate you so much.”

“Mm hm.”

“Fine,” you murmured, still glaring at the grapes in your hand before raising your glances to meet his eyes. “Go on. Ask me something.”

“What of your many suitors?”

“They’re annoying,” you said with a grimace, “What of them?”

“There’s no one among them that you…?”

“What?”

“That you like?” he asked. “Lord Shaw seems quite persistent.”

“Oh I would never marry Lord Shaw,” you brushed him off. “He’s too young.”

“He’s in his early thirties,” he reminded you. “He’s older than you.”

“Not enough,” you pointed out. “I have a clear idea of what I require in matrimony. My husband will be much older, in his fifties or sixties, and a widow if possible.”

He scoffed a laugh. “You’re supposed to answer truthfully.”

“I am answering truthfully,” you said and Benedict’s eyes flickered across your face as if trying to find a tell that you were dishonest.

“…Why?”

“Many reasons,” you said. “I don’t want to wait for years and years for him to die to gain my freedom, I’d like it to be fast. I do not even have to like him, I just need him to die fast.”

His jaw was slightly slack as he gawked at you. “You’re jesting.”

“No I’m not.”

“You’re willing to marry someone you don’t even like to…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “Do you even know what happens when you get married?”

“Do you?” you asked back. “Just because we’re talking about different aspects of marriage does not invalidate either one of them.”

“So you’re willing to go through that with someone who you don’t even like just because he might die faster?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this Benedict, but the majority of wives in the ton go through that with their husbands whom they don’t like,” you pointed out bluntly, the back of your eyes stinging before you blinked back the tears, surprised at yourself but thankfully managing to remain completely calm. “And it happens again and again, and I refuse to be subjected to that any longer than I must.”

His jaw clenched upon hearing the unpleasant truth and he swallowed thickly.

“Y/N it doesn’t have to be like that—”

“I can assure you it is not going to be so sad for me,” you cut him off. “When my future husband dies, I’ll have…” you trailed off. “I’ll have…”

“Solitude.”

“Solitude is not the threat you think it is for me,” you stated. “The way I see it, marriage is debtor’s prison. I will spend some time waiting for it to be over until I’m free, that’s all. Until I’ve paid the price I’m expected to pay.”

“And love?”

You let out a dry laugh. “Don’t you find it ironic that only artists have the luxury of looking for love, or believing in it for that matter?”

“Don’t give me that,” he said as if he was too impatient to argue with you on that. “What of your heart?”

“I told you,” you forced yourself to say as you shot him a bitter smile. “I don’t have one.”

“What of your desires?” he asked and with the worst timing possible, your dream from the night before flashed before your eyes, with him kissing you, and touching you, and—

“I don’t have those either,” you managed to lie through your teeth as you played with the grapes in your hand, wiping at the dust over them and he took a step towards you.

“That cannot be your plan for your future,” he insisted, breathing fast as if you were going to run away at any moment. “What if he doesn’t die fast? A lot of old people live long lives.”

“It’s the safest bet,” you pointed out. “It would still prove to be useful.”

“How?”

“Old husbands move slower,” you said as you rubbed at your wrist and shrugged your shoulders again. “I will have to be faster than him for when he tries to hit me.”

A stunned silence fell upon the greenhouse and you lifted your glances from your wrist to find him completely frozen in shock in his place.

“What?” you asked and he frowned as if the mere idea was so unthinkable that it confused him.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

You tossed a grape in the air and caught it again. “I will have to be faster than him for when he tries to—”

“No one will hit you.”

“Precisely,” you said. “I’m making sure of it. We’re talking about the same thing here, honestly.”

“No, even if…” he trailed off and for the first time since you had met, a darkness crossed his eyes, something dangerous, something that was more than enough to raise goosebumps on your arms even if you somehow knew that it was not directed at you. “If somebody so much as touches a hair on your head, I—”

“Wouldn’t be able to do a thing,” you finished his sentence for him. “No one would, you know how it goes. Once I’m married it’s over, there’s no one that can stop anything. Not my family, not the law, not the ton. So I’m going to protect myself because if I don’t do it, no one else will.”

He looked at a loss for words as he stared at you and you threw the grape stem aside as if your heart didn’t feel like it weighed a ton, then cleared your throat.

“I won by the way,” you told him, wiping your hands on your skirts. “I’m going back to the house before my aunt sends Queen’s guards after me.”

“Y/N—”

“Oh cheer up, will you?” you forced your voice to come out completely nonchalant as you opened the glass door. “For what it’s worth, I’m sure you will find love. Shouldn’t be that hard if you believe in that nonsense.”

You walked out of the greenhouse without so much as a glance back, leaving him there frozen. You took a deep breath, gritting your teeth and rubbed at your arms, the sudden chill that had nothing to do with the weather rushing through you.

“Pull yourself together,” you muttered to yourself and made your way back to the house, digging your fingernails into your palms in an attempt to focus on anything but the tears burning your eyes.

Chapter 7

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

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that-girl-glader · 3 months ago

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Dear friends 🫂🫂

When we resorted to asking for urgent assistance, we resorted to it because of the difficulty of life we live, whether psychological, physical or material 💔

We are a Palestinian family of seven people. We were living a decent, stable life and had our dreams. Suddenly, our situation changed because of the devastating war that caused us to lose everything we owned and negatively affected my children psychologically, educationally and otherwise 😭😭

Therefore, we became in dire need of help so that we can continue living 💔

Today, after approximately 330 days of war and five months since the start of the fundraising campaign, we have reached 19000€ / 35,000€, and I am confident that you will help me reach the goal as soon as possible - I hope that everyone who sees my message will donate if possible and share it widely 🙏

Thank you very much

🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸❤🤍💚🖤

Your brother / Mohammad Ayyad

DON'T YOU JUST HATEEEE NETFLIX!! THEY CANCELLED DEAD BOY DETECTIVES. DEAD BOYS. UGHHHHH AND TO THINK WE WERE SAVED AFTER SHADOW AND BONES, OR ANNE WITH AN E, OR EVERYTHING NOW. LIKE THAT ONE SHOW I AM NOT OKAY WITH IT. AHHHHHHHHHHH. BABYSITTERS CLUB HURT THE MOST FOR ME. I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE. OOH AND EVEN DEAD END PARANORMAL PARK???! THEY CANCELLING CARTOONS NOW TO!!! GOSH WHAT THE ACTUAL SHUCK. DIE NETFLIX DIEEEEE. NOW TAKE MY ANGER AND DONATE TO THIS LOVELY PALESTINIAN FAMILY. BECAUE NETFLIX MAY MAKE ME MAD BUT THIS GENOCIDE MAKES ME LIVID.

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neerons · 6 months ago

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Hi!! I’m not sure if you’ve answered this question before but could you help me understand how kei and kai got their identities swapped when they ran into each other as children and hence kei’s feelings of guilt toward his brother? I couldn’t quite catch that part of the plot. Thanks!

Hi! Sure no problem ❤

Warning: Mentions of cannibalism

How did Kai and Kei switch places and fates at Caleb's house?

Here are a few key points to remember to understand the rest of the story:

The Romleys, a family of earls, and the St. Alfans, a family of dukes, share a friendly relationship

Kei's and Kai's father is the duke of St. Alfans, and their mother is a nun (taboo relationship)

At birth, the twins were separated, with Kai living as the duke's "younger brother" to hide his true identity as his son, while Kei was sent in an orphanage

Kei was then taken in as Emma and Cyrus' child, and as the grandson of Chad and Anne Romley

(I made this family tree, but I actually don't know who is Chad and Anne's actual child between Emma and Cyrus, and I can't remember if it was ever mentioned. It's possible that it's actually Cyrus who's their son, but that isn't relevant here)

Other information:

Caleb was friends with Chad and Anne and they were all MI6 agents, with Chad and Anne being legendary ones. They worked a profession similar to our MC's

Caleb was in love with Chad. Due to his parents and childhood, Caleb wants to "be one" with people he loves, so he wants to eat them. Since he could not eat Chad because of Anne's protection (Anne was MI6's best agent), he decided to get Chad' love "indirectly" by eating people Chad loves instead

Caleb's twisted love led to him eating the twins' father, the duke of St. Alfans, and Libre, Chad's horse. Caleb only learned that the duke was the twins' father after he knew he wanted to eat him

(I actually am pulling my hair out because I really can't remember why Caleb would want to eat the duke right now. I either forgot why or they didn't expand on that, but it was probably because Chad likes the St. Alfanses and cared for one of the duke's children (Kei). And since Kei was protected by the Romleys, he targeted his father instead. Caleb also loved the duke's appearance a lot which is similar to the twins so it's possible he only ate him because of that. I'm sorry though, I can't remember for sure right now)

Now let's get back to the time the twins met and had their fates exchanged:

The duke of St. Alfans had recently been killed and eaten by Caleb, leaving Kai without his father. Caleb then brought both Kai and Kei to his summer house, and even though they both didn't know what awaited them, they knew it wasn't good.

Aside from a few physical differences due to Kei being raised in a bad environment, as twins, Kai and Kei practically looked identical, but wore different shirts that day. Kai understood that Caleb gathered them to try to harm and possibly eat Kei, so he decided to protect his little brother.

Kei was reluctant and asked Kai why he would protect him, since they didn't know each other and that it'd put him in danger once Caleb realized their trick.

Kai simply was kind and had an instinct to protect his little brother. He insisted that Kei and him exchange their shirts. He then told Kei to run away while Caleb was in another room.

Kei didn't want to leave Kai behind as it would mean he would be harmed, but Kai had learned how Kei was treated at the orphanage and how tough his life had been, so he felt guilty himself for having a good life while Kei lived a nightmare. He felt the need to save him and offered him to escape.

Kei ended up running away after putting on Kai's shirt, with guilt in his heart. While running, he tripped and got a scar on his forehead, but forgot this incident years later after forgetting his traumatic memories

This scar has always been hidden by his bangs, and he has always been reluctant to touch them without ever knowing why after forgetting his past.

The reason why becomes clear once he remembers everything. He always avoided touching the scar on his forehead because it would remind him of his guilt of leaving his brother behind on that day

That's mostly how it happened! I don't really have time to re read the main story to explain everything more in detail right now, as I have other stories I want to read.

My recordings of some episodes (which sadly include this moment) had failed too back when the story got released so I can't revisit the episodes quickly as well. I hope you understand the situation better though!

Thank you for the ask!

#ask #masquerade kiss #kei soejima #voltage inc #love 365 #otome game #voltage #love 365 find your story #mk #otome games #voltage otome #kazuomi shido #yuzuru shiba #seiichi setoyanagi #masquerade kiss boss

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nightcolorz · 8 months ago

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For the ask game: ❤️💚💙

YAYY thank u sm for the ask! these questions r so fun. I’m going off of the book fandom btw

❤: Which character do you think is the most egregiously mischaracterized by the fandom?

Louis <3 I think this is an affect of how likable and overtly sympathetic he is in the amc show but I've seen people getting genuinely offended over Louis being described in fandom (and by Anne rice herself) as a manipulative cold hearted ass who uses his perceived vulnerability and gentleness to distract from the fact that he is just as cruel if not crueler then the other vampires. Like Louis does nottt have strong morals or high empathy lmao. Book Louis weaponizes his privilege like a white woman crying to self victimize into making the other vampires look worse them him 😭 . He refuses to kill humans for a while not bcus it hurts him to take life (he actually takes more pleasure in it then most), he refuses bcus he has catholic brain the way a christians who say "how do atheists have morals without god?" do, misunderstanding that most people actually care about other people and dont need an existential threat to encourage them not to hurt others.

His moral compass is self centered and based in up keeping the appearance of self restraint and monk style lack of enjoying himself, not empathy. If a vampire killed u would u feel better if u knew he cried over how much he got off on it then flaunted his suffering over how little he indulged so that everyone knew how piosis he was 😭.

He is way worse when it comes to how he treats his victims then Armand who intentionally seeks out victims who r asking to die or Lestat who tries the vigilante approach. Louis kills innocents and he thinks it makes him better cuz he only does it sometimes and he feels really really bad about himself afterwards. As akasha said (paraphrased) he's the most predatory of them all.

To specify I love book Louis SOOOO much I love how shitty he is that's why it makes me sad when people mischaracterize him as sincere and get gen mad when ppl characterize him how he is in canon (a lying selfish bitch bless his heart). Like ik amc Louis at this point in canon is unambiguously in the right but he isn't like an accurate reflection of how he is in the books 😭 it's not like amc did what anne rice was trying to do more successfully, they just nulled what anne rice was doing in favor of a more likable protagonist. Which is fine, but like, there's no crime in preferring evil to the core horrible asshole Louis of the books.

💚: What does everyone else get wrong about your favorite character?

I think the common fandom perception of Armand as the crazy unhinged "omg I can't believe he actually did that in the books??" sadistic maniac villain guy is funny but not really accurate. Armand explicitly not only tries to avoid violence but dislikes it and finds it hard to comprehend why someone would seek out violence and conflict.

The reason he is always doing fucked up shit isn't out of a lestat-esc desire to cause chaos, it's bcus his highly strung ptsd brain has him convinced that the world is a battle ground and he must always be defending himself and acting out in violence.

Since acting out in violence is a reaction hes been taught throughout his life to be standard and necessary, as violence is something so normalized to him he considers it more of a tedious chore then a last resort measure, he usually reacts to conflict in ways that are objectively extreme to anyone who isn't thinking from his perspective. In qotd he even asks Daniel why men choose to fight in wars, explaining that he doesn't understand the draw of violence (bcus he's not a man) and he can't comprehend the supposed thrill of it.

Then he says this in pl to Gregory

💙: Which character is not as hot as everyone else seems to think they are?

i was going to say Marius but I figure that's too obvious since everyone at this point knows I don't like Marius 😭 so here's an even hotter take,,,,, Lestat ‼️

Only to a degree, I think Lestat is hot and deserves the hype, but i also think he's hot in a different way then a chunk of the fandom does. Based on his book description he's kind of wonky looking, mouth too big for his face, vaguely unnerving shallow pale skin, starved 1700s peasant build but also kind of buff in the unhealthy "i dont eat regularly but I'm strong enough to carry a wolf for miles on my back" sense, weirdly small fucking feet. He def has creepy ass florescent blue doll eyes too. my point is I think when drooling over Lestat the fandom tends to forget this wonkiness in favor of blonde bombshell, Sam Reid chizzled jawline and abs, or conventionally beautiful anime twink, when they should be appreciating lestat in all his weird as shit glory.

#Ask game #tvc #the vampire chronicles #vampire chronicles #vc #armand #lestat de lioncourt #iwtv #interview with the vampire #the vampire armand #Prince Lestat #the vampire lestat #louis de pointe du lac

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calicozmbie · 1 year ago

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Hi! First of I wanted to say I loved your social media blurbs! If you can could you do a social media blurb or a one shot of y/n at Harry’s finale show with Gemma and Anne and you get engaged at the end :)

Notes: Heyy, thank you so much! Of course I can, I wasn’t too sure if you wanted the engagement to be publicised or in private so I did private. Also I apologise for posting this so late! And, don’t forget my requests are open so if anyone wants something wrote, send one!

Thanks for the request! ❤︎︎

ENGAGED

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summary: It’s the final show and Harry has been extremely nervous for this particular night, but not for the reason you think.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟

It’s the final show, and you’re stood here with Anne’s and Gemmas arms wrapped around you as Harry plays his piano Ballard . Your eyes a filled with adoration, tears threatening to fall. It gives you a moment to reminisce on the most special moments you’ve shared together. The best moments.

June 2009, the revelation

“Harry!” You squeal out, running towards his open arms. Them wrapping around your waist, lifting you into the air with a spin. He places you down gently with a soft smile.

“How’ve you been doin’?” He asks, you smile brightly.

“I’ve been great! I’m glad you’re back though, I got lonely.” You let out a nervous laugh, he laughs along with you—making you feel slightly less nervous. “How was the trip? Did you see any cool sights?” You ramble, he gestures you to slow down and your cheeks heat up.

“I saw loads! It was awesome.” He beams, before his face becomes serious. “I’ll tell you all ‘bout it, but I want to speak to you about somethin’ yeah?” Your brows furrow and you give him a look of confusion, you lead him to your room where it’s more private.

“Soo..what’s up?” You sit crossed legged on the bed, him eventually joining you with a shaky breath.

“I need to tell ‘ye something but I don’t want you to freak out,” Harry explains, eyes avoiding you until you softly grab his hand with a reassuring look.

“I promise I won’t freak out, you can tell me anything.” Your voice is soft, calming and gives Harry a familiar feeling once he hears it. He’s nods, exhaling loudly before looking you in the eyes with a nervous look.

“I like..you. I have for a few years, y/n, I’ve liked you for so long. I mean, what’s not to like? You’re smart, pretty, funny and your personality..if I start now I don’t think I’ll ever stop.” He breathes out, a slight smile on the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to say that you like me back..I mean how could yo-“

You cut him off with a small peck on his lips, pulling away and both of your cheeks are bright red. “I like you too Harry, a lot.” You giggle, he lets out a sigh of relief and leans in to place another kiss on your lips.

“I don’t want this t’a sound too cliché but do you wanna..I dunno, go out with me?” He speaks, looking at you hopefully with his dough eyes that you could just stare at all day. You nod, smiling widely which is immediately mirrored on his face.

“How could I ever say no to that question?”

July 2014, the promise

“Okay..you’re worrying me. What’s going on?” You ask with a light laugh, though a frown settles on your features. Harry is currently dragging you by the hand down a dimly lit path to the ‘beach’ near your house. You reach the end where he sighs, dropping your hand as you feel the now cold feeling in your hand. “You okay baby?”

“I love you, so much y/n. I always have and I want you to have something to show you that I promise to always love you. That I promise no matter what, I’ll always love you and be by your side.” Harry says, tone full of love and honesty making your heart flutter. Butterfly’s fill your stomach as he pulls out a small box.

He chuckles lightly, “don’t worry, I’m not proposing just yet but this is a promise that one day I will.” Your heart warms, smiling at him softly before letting out a small gasp when he opens the box to reveal a gold, flower engraved ring.

“Oh..Harry it’s beautiful.” You gasp out, looking at him with wide eyes.

“It’s a promise ring, I promise everything to you y/n. I’ll never leave your side, not once.” He takes it out and holds it at your finger, giving you a look which you understand in a second. You nod quickly, smiling widely as he places it on your hand and squealing as you jump into his arms.

“I love you, so much.” You whisper whole-heartedly.

August 2021, the surprise

“Oh! Harry where are we going?” You giggle out, following him inside one of your houses together. It’s dark, the dim light reflection from the moon settles in the living room—you gasp out when you see a box full of animal toys and a few other accessories. “What..what is this?”

He gives you a lazy smirk, walking to the side for a moment to grab a cardboard box. You furrow your brows trying to take a peak at the box but he laughs a hides it away, until you hear a small sound emit from the box.

“Harry..you didn’t,” you gasp out in shock, awe and just a mix of many different feelings.

He nods, placing the box down in the wooden floor and he’s about to open it but a small paw peaks out—followed by a quiet ‘meow’ as a little kitten struggles to climb out of the box. “Surprise lovie.”

You let out a breath, getting down onto your knees and opening the lid and immediately tearing up at the sight of the animal. “Oh my god! You’re so precious..hi sweetheart!” You say softly, taking the kitten out. “Is it a girl?” He nods and you smile widely, cooing as she leans into your touch.

You stand up after placing her down, watching as she waddles around the new area with a curious sniff. You smile at Harry lovingly, his arms coming to wraps themselves around your shoulders—love and adoration shared within the room. He kisses you softly, smiling into it. “Do ‘ye like her?” He asks with his soft eyes.

“I love her..just as I love you.” Your hand caresses your boyfriends cheek and he smiles widely.

“I love you too y/n.”

Present time

You’re so caught up in your own thoughts you haven’t realised the shows over, until a security guards hand is guiding you backstage where Harry is waiting patiently for all of you.

“Oh..he did so well, I’m so proud of him.” Anne says, still in shock with tears rolling down her cheeks. You smile at her softly, stroking her hand as Gemma holds one of your own.

“We all are,” Gemma says wholeheartedly, eyes also glistening. You look forward with awaiting eyes when the three of you stand together backstage. Harry emits slowly, his face still damp with tears from one of the greatest moments of his life, but he still looks nervous?

Anne let’s out a sob-laugh before jogging into his open arms, he kisses his face repeatedly as he laughs lightly. “Oh my boy I’m so, so proud of you!” He’s out of his outfit now, dressed slightly more fancy in black slacks and a white button up; the top few buttons undone to reveal his chest.

Why hasn’t he changed into his regular comfy clothes?

“Thanks mum.” He breathes out in the midst of her tight hold, Gemma soon joins the hug and you grin at the family. His eyes meet yours over their shoulders and they tell you everything you need to know, they pull themselves away so you’re able to run into his arms with a happy sigh. “Hi lovie.”

“Hi baby, you did so well out there—I’m so proud of you.” You whisper into his neck, pulling away so you’re able to angle your neck just right to give him a small kiss.

“Thank you..will you take a walk with me?” He asks, a shaky breath following his words, which makes you frown with concern. You nod, stealing a glance at his family and friends who all have a knowing look on their face.

After walking for at least twenty minutes, security with you for the most part as they have only just finished the show, you reach a small secluded path that’s lit up with multiple candles and fairy lights. The hue of the sunset is hitting his face perfectly, making him look like an Angel in disguise.

You giggle softly, Harry’s arm tightening on you when you almost trip over, “Harry, where are we going?” Though he doesn’t answer, you gasp out-loud when you reach the end. Flower petals lining the floor, a few pictures of you both from all the moments you’ve had together decorating the railing. “Oh..this is, Harry what is this?”

You then turn around expecting him to be stood there where he was but you get a whole different view. He’s kneeling..on one knee.

Your hands come up to cup your mouth in shock, unable to say anything when he reaches into his back pocket and pulling out a small black, velvet box.

“Y/n L/n..I love you so much I can’t put it into words, if I even just began to talk about how much you mean to me and what makes you, you..then we’d be here forever,” he speaks with a shaky breath and looks down quickly with a light laugh before looking back up to you—his eyes glistening along with yours.

“I really don’t know what I’d do without you, I don’t think I’d be able to survive without you,” he pauses for a moment, anxiety still clear in his movements, “will..will you marry me?”

You suck in a deep breath, tears falling as you stutter out words. Looking into his hopeful eyes full of love you nod slowly, humming, “yes, yes of course I will!” A breathy laugh, tears and a small squeal coming from you when he gently slides the ring onto your finger. You jump into his arms, both of you whispering small affirmations to each other.

“Y/n Styles..has a ring to it right?” He says breathily after placing you back onto your feet, a lazy grin on his lips. You nod, kissing him deeply which he quickly responds to. “I love ‘ye, so much.”

“I love you too, Mr styles.”

—

#fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harrystyles x reader #oneshot #harry styles concept #engaged #imagine #harry styles x you

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