#prince harry styles one shot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eveningepiphany · 7 months

Text

go with it | H.S oneshot

my masterlist!

summary: your ex boyfriend— someone you never want to talk to again— is searching for you at a party. trying to do anything to deter him or get away, you spot harry, and a plan comes to fruition.

warnings: cheating ex, surprise kiss, sexual tension, partial mentions of sexual stuff, love/hate relationship, protective! h, fluff, cuddling and lots of kissing

a/n: I’m sorry but this gif actually has me in a chokehold. his jawline, his chewing, his FROWN. literally melting 🫠

———

There was never a day you thought you’d be b-lining to Harry of all people.

Especially not with the intention of once getting there, that you would be slamming your lips against his.

However, you already know you’d rather face a pit of blood-thirsty snakes then be forced into a conversation with your asshole of an ex boyfriend.

Who you know is currently seeking you out, because when you’d caught glimpse of him scouring the groups of people inside the kitchen, after coming back from the bathroom— your stomach dropped, and someone tapped your shoulder.

“He’s your ex, right?” The girl had said this with a light scrunch of her nose as she looked over to him. Her face riddled with a sense of disgust you couldn’t relate to more If you tried.

You had nodded, to which she replied, “Well, he’s asking everyone if you’re here and where you are. Going by his personality I’m assuming you’re gonna want to avoid that.”

You’d never wanted to hug someone more then her in that moment.

At the information she’d so kindly shared with you, your first priority was getting out of the house.

The front door wasn’t an option since he is near the only hallway that leads it it. So out through the back patio, where a smaller group of people were mingling by the fire, was easily your best option.

You knew this was where he’d be likely looking next, so you ran out the door. Unsure if you are about to just find a way to jump the fence and make your escape or…

Either way, you knew if he managed to talk to you, you’d be getting an unwanted earful of advances.

He’d beg with his nasally voice for you to give him a chance, and then go on about the same bitter ending you’d both faced. To his own fault, of course.

He was talking to multiple other girls over the damn state while you were together. And once you found out, it confirmed your outlook on his person.

He of course was charming and nice at first. But it was almost in a sleazy way when you think back to it. He’d yelled at you when you bought up his adulterous habits, and you never looked back after that.

Once you were outside, you were considering your options, but you spotted a person on the other side of the decking.

The second your eyes locked on Harry, it was a done deal.

If you were to seem like you were in another relationship, he would be much more likely to back off. Much more likely to never contact or try to find you again.

He was petrified of other men. Always felt so inferior around them. So this would be perfect, if you could just make it work.

All your past with him fell from the forefront of your mind as you practically ran in his direction. Maybe you had argued countless times over college projects and he could be a bit of an ass, but you still knew you could trust him.

He was leaned against the wooden beam of the patio, skin casted with a warm glow from the fire a few feet away, down on the grass.

He had a signature frown. One that creased between his brows and pouted his pink lips. Creating his almost intimidating persona. Protective in a perfect way.

“Harry.” You state frantically, moving at a pace you’re not used to, shoes hitting the wooden decking hastily.

His scowl deepened as he heard his name, being pulled from his intense train of thought.

“What—” He looks honestly pissed off, but when his gaze snaps to you, it softens a tiny bit. Still annoyed, but just a sliver less.

Also confused at your frantic and rapidly approaching frame, which is now suddenly breaching the usual metre-wide distance you both would maintain on any other day.

“Y/N? What are you—“

You plant your hands on the side of his face, and the look of surprise in his eyes is evident.

His cheeks are warm and smooth under your palms, “I need you to just go with this okay? Can you do that for me?”

He is struggling to make sense of the situation, let alone get a sentence out without being interrupted.

“What do you—“

“I— I’ll explain later just—“ you take a final glance over your shoulder, and see your ex inside still, but seemingly headed for the sliding door to come outside.

This drives the final surge of adrenaline you need to tug his face to yours, melding your lips together. His are puckered in tense shock, and a noise of surprise sounds from the back of his throat.

His hands jump to your hips, gripping them like he’s not sure whether to pull you closer, or push you away.

Your mouth moves against his, and he reciprocates with a sense of hesitation.

His own brain is in absolute overdrive. The interaction far to short to go from being people who merely tolerate one another to people who are currently kissing.

And somewhere inside of him he acknowledges the feeling of how warm your lips are pressed to his.

He senses your urgency now though, hands tensing around his jaw at the sound of the access door getting slid open.

Parting his lips, he impulsively drags his tongue over your bottom lip. You sigh a sound of almost gratefulness at his action.

Harry turns his body swiftly, pressing your back into the railing, his lips moving harder against yours.

“Y/N! Are you bloody out here?” A grating voice sounds, and he quickly picks up the pieces of the story he was missing.

The voice also pulls him out of the half trance he’d gotten himself in. Your mouth so warm, he genuinely forgot his own name for a second.

One of your hands slide down to the neck of his black shirt, securing it in an anxious grip.

The pace quickly picks up, him plastering himself to you as close as physically possible. Clashing mouths as he shadows your body with his.

“Oi, mate!” He ignores the yell, and is met with the footsteps of this guy coming closer.

“Have you seen—“

Harry pulls from your mouth, turning his head to look at the dickhead who you’re clearly attempting to get away from. And who just hypothetically interrupted someone’s makeout session— which is just fucking rude anyway.

“Do I look like I have?” Harry scowls, an angry tone over his voice.

The guy frowns, an ugly look casting upon his features, he steps closer, “No need to be a fucking di—“

He moved just close enough to see you, frowning, making sense that you were just essentially making out with someone, “Y/N I—“

“Can you fuck off? We’re in the middle of something here, that you’ve just so kindly interrupted. Read the room you twat.” His sentences come out harsh, and it’s clear he means it.

Your ex tries his luck a final time, “look I just want to talk with—“

And Harry interjects it again, “She’s not interested.”

You stay quiet, and at this he gets a disgusted look. It appalls you that he thinks you owe him anything.

There’s a stare down between the two men. But you can see in his face he’s intimidated. Also humiliated, that you’ve seemingly moved on with someone else, and that he’s clearly got no shot at winning you back.

“Fucking ass.” He hisses, and turns around, storming down the patio and back inside.

Harry turns back to you, shielding your frame with his. A sigh of relief passes through you.

You look a little shaken up, and he loosens the grip he has on you slightly. Both your lips still puffed and shining from the exchange you unexpectedly shared.

“Thank you…” you pant out, not sure if you’re out of breath from the situation or because of Harry.

The reality of what just happened comes pelting down on you both.

And it’s quiet a moment as you both clock over in your brains that you just practically made out. It takes a second for him to break the silence,

“So, stalker? Ex? Random guy who can’t take no for an answer?” He quizzes.

Feeling embarrassed, you purse your lips— but are able to to taste the remnants of his own mouth on yours. “Ex.”

“Ex?”

You nod.

“You sound surprised. Didn’t you think I could land anyone?” You scoff, trying desperately to bring back the usual snarky vibe between the two of you.

“No, not at all. Just that he was clearly batting above his level. He was a proper dickhead, and that’s rich when it’s compared to you.” You thank god he plays back into your banter.

But he pries further, “What exactly did he do to you?”

“Long story.” You attempt to brush it off, but he has none of it.

“Love, y’just came over here and slammed your bloody mouth over mine, and now you’re not going to tell me why?”

“But—“

“No,” he interrupts, still very close to you as he shakes his head, “No buts. Y’said you’d explain after.”

A sigh rattles out of you, feeling a little pathetic you’re telling Harry you got cheated on.

“He cheated on me. Like with multiple girls.”

To this, his face immediately drops.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

He fights the overwhelming urge to go hunt him down and lay a hand into the side of his fucking face. An absolute scumbag.

“What a pathetic excuse for a man.” He scoffs, “Lucky to have even got a pretty girl like you, and he blew it.”

You flush, another brief wave of quiet falling over the two of you. His compliments throwing you.

You quietly speak again, “I’m sorry about the… kiss. Didn’t really get as much consent as I’d have liked.”

You did feel guilty, you don’t usually go forcing your mouth onto unsuspecting men.

“No, it’s okay. You did it for a reason.” He shakes his head at your apology, and in all honesty, he enjoyed it.

Somehow it meant more than many of his others have. And he can’t quite pinpoint why.

“I… I carpooled here so, I think I’m gonna call an Uber and go home ‘cause…”

You had no interest in sticking around, incase your ex comes back— and you don’t want to spend the rest of your night glued to Harry’s side, because you doubt he’d want that.

“You’re not catching an Uber home.” He scoffs aloud, fishing his keys from his back pocket, “I’ve only had one drink, I’ll be fine to drive, so I’ll take you.”

“Harry, no. You’ve already done plenty for me tonight, I’ll be fine—“

He grabs at your hand, lacing them together and beginning to walk you down the patio.

“I’m driving you home.” He states, leading the you inside.

He clutched your hand tight, eyes forward and uncaring of the heads that had turned your way.

You on the other hand had burned up at the curious— and quickly jealous— eyes.

Harry was by no means a whore. There were plenty of rumours of him sleeping with certain girls. Mostly outlandish stories that eventually fizzled out to nothing.

He’d had a few girlfriends here and there, but it’d been a while since. And he’s maybe had one actual fling over the last couple months.

It just seemed he was harder to get. And many women tried their luck around the school. Yet to no avail.

You cast your sight down, walking behind him out the front door. Relishing in the quiet surroundings of the front lawn, free of prying glares.

He unlocked his car that was parked on the side of the road, and he opens the side door for you to get in. Chivalry mustn’t be dead.

Once you’re both in the car, you fight the urge to say again that he really doesn’t have to take you, because it’s clear there is no other option on his end.

So instead, you let out a tiny thank you, and he nods while starting the car.

However, your self restraint only branches so far— matter-of-fact, you weren’t even out of the street— before you blurt out, “Everyone was staring.”

He veers his gaze momentarily to you, then flicking it back to the road. Silence stretches a moment, and he recalls the heat of your lips pressed to yours with no real prompt.

And when he thinks of it, the image doesn’t leave his head. It unwillingly transpires, into something that bubbles into the pit of his stomach.

He had to blink it away, grounding himself when he hears your nervous swallow.

“I— what?” He’s confused at what you mean, while you kissed? When you walked out?

“When we walked out.” You reply, and he makes sense of what you’re talking about.

“People will always stare. They’re nosey.”

“I know.”

There’s another breath of silence, until he laughs, so suddenly that it almost makes you jump.

“Where am I going?” He asks, still chuckling as he realises he’s literally just driving aimlessly.

“Oh.” You sputter out a laugh as well, rattling off the side of town he needs to start driving to.

You wish you had more to say to him. That’s conversation usually flowed easily— filled with the sarcastic retorts it usually is. But now all that sat between you was a thick, hot slab of tension.

It wasn’t bad— not by any means— but it was easy to tell both of you were stuck in your own head. And you fear you’ve fashioned a permanent problem between the two of you.

Your voice only cut through the quiet once you were a few blocks away from your house.

He hummed acknowledgements to your each set of directions, and before you knew it, you were pointing out your house to him.

As his car pulled to a stop in the driveway, he didn’t hesitate to turn off the engine and get out.

Confused, you follow suit anyway, but wondered if he was about to walk you to your door.

And you weren’t wrong. Somehow, the guy who seems hardly like a gentleman, is waiting to walk the maybe 15 steps with you from his car to your front door.

You get your keys from your small bag, looking at him with an undeniably curious gaze as you meet his side.

He follows in sync by your side, hands in pockets. All the way up the patio steps, and he falls to a stop when you do, still next to you.

“Thank you for driving me home…” you smile, and can feel an unwilling red colouring spread over your cheeks.

“Was nothin’. Glad you’re home safe.”

“Were you seriously worried about me?” You frown, yet it’s undeniably endearing his concern for you.

A tiny scoff sounds from him, “Obviously?”

“That fuckin’ twat of an ex you have hardly seems like a good person. And who’s t’say he wouldn’t follow you home from that party and…” he stares off in thought, jaw clenching.

“Harry.” You state, stepping forward, wrapping a single hand around his wrist.

“Thank you.”

His distant gaze was snapped away at your touch. He’s never really considered himself an overly violent person, but your ex was easily about to change that.

And he hardly can pinpoint why. Or not yet.

The only thing he knows he wants to do again in sudden clarity, is kiss you. It almost shocks him, because he hasn’t felt an urge as strong as this in forever.

“Can— I need you to just go with this.” He mutters, being the one now very suddenly invading the gap between you both.

He’s mimicking what you said when you kissed him, yet you don’t realise “I’ll explain later.”

His hand cups the side of your jaw, and he leans to brush his lips against yours, a breath of relief fanning out his nose after finally feeling the contact.

You’re stood on your porch, and Harry is kissing you.

And somehow you’re all the sudden kissing him back.

Not because there’s someone you’re running from. Not because you have to. Because you want to.

He pulls you closer to him, allowing his teeth to graze your lower lip. Causing your hands to card through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You both play a back and forth game. Full of lips against tongue and tongue against teeth.

Until you’re both panting and running out of new places to map out with your hands.

“Care to explain?” You retort gently, stricken of breath.

He hums in the back of his throat, barley a rumble as he trails his mouth along your jaw, and down to the base of your neck.

“Is this enough of an answer?” He asks, sucking the skin between your two collarbones between his teeth.

Your knees almost give out at the sensation, and even the pressure behind his harsh mouth.

A near whimper comes from you, and he licks over the slightly bruised spot before he pulls back.

He cocks an eyebrow, expectant of your answer, despite having such a skilled mouth you’re pretty sure you forgot your own name for a second there.

“I— yes. That was… plenty.” You nod.

“Did it because I wanted to, and y’have an incredibly hot little mouth.” He provides anyway, a laugh coming from him as he pecks your cheek. All gentle, all loving.

You’re lacking for words completely, and can only lean your head against his broad chest. Unsure what exactly you’ve sparked between the two of you this evening, but simultaneously not caring of the future right now.

“I’m also probably not going to be able to stop thinking about it…” he whispers.

“Stay.” You blurt out, and then clarify a few seconds later, “The night.”

He chuckles at this, “Are you trying to get in bed with me now? Moving very quickly, sweetheart.”

You flush, “Not everything is about sex, you fucking addict.”

“So you were inviting me to stay the night so we could cuddle?”

“I was.” You affirm, despite not being opposed to his idea either.

Grabbing his hand, you lead him to your front door. Unlocking it and making quick work of sneaking him inside without the one of your three lovely housemates hearing.

All the others were luckily out at varying parties, and the only girl still home— Grace— sleeps like a log.

“You seem like a bit of a professional at sneaking people in.” He smirks, kicking his shoes off and leaving them in the corner of your room.

With only the lamp turned on, he’s lit with a warm glow, and he looks beautiful.

“Comes naturally when you live with housemates that are like your best friends. They wanna know everything.” You go to your cupboard, pulling out a jumper to change into.

He watches as you pull it over your head, yet managing to unclip your top and bra off underneath it.

“Impressive.” He nods at your easy change.

“I’m taking my pants off.” You state, “and not in a sexual way, perv.”

He lets out a defensive laugh, “I’m not a perv! You’re the one stripping off.”

You unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your legs to change over to sweatpants. His gaze strays around your room and you smile at his respectfulness.

Once you’re changed, you sit on the edge of your bed.

You lock eyes, and he gives a sly smile, not waiting to tug his shirt over his head and unbutton his own jeans.

You cover your eyes, sarcastically scoffing, “yea well, I didn’t plan on getting fully naked, but you go right ahead.”

“No different if we went swimming, darling. Still have my underwear on.”

You don’t get to reply as his hands tap your knee, “Budge up.”

You uncover your eyes, being met with his toned chest and calvin klein briefs.

Obliging silently, as he gets under the covers with you. The two of you rearrange until you’re comfortable.

Your head perched on his side as you cuddle into him, arm over his abdomen. His own arm curled underneath you.

“This is… an awfully weird situation we’ve ended up in.” You laugh. Because you’re cuddling in your bed right now, and if you told yourself even yesterday that would be happening, there no way in hell you would have taken it seriously.

“Guess it is.” He shrugs, turned his head to look down at yours.

“Still hate your guts.” You whisper.

“Mm, i don’t think I ever even hated you.” He muses.

You laugh, “Is that so?”

“Seriously,” he nods, “you’re too pretty. And even though you’re annoying, and can’t admit when you get a project question wrong, i think I have a little bit of a soft spot for you.”

“Gross.” You say, but he can hear in your tone— and the way it nearly shakes— that you actually are a little worked up over his minor confession.

“Cmon, you can’t even admit you like me a tiny bit?”

You shake your head, blushing profusely as you try to hide it.

He tugs you further up, so he can look at you properly, “You’re blushing though. Like you always seem to do when I get a bit sappy. Which is my most recent observation of you.”

He doesn’t let you respond as he presses another kiss to your lips again. And you smile into it unwillingly.

He pulls away mid-kiss, letting you whine a little at the abrupt ending to it.

“Admit it, and we can keep kissing.” He says, and it draws an eye-roll from you.

But he somehow knows it will work, because you quickly crack under his ultimatum, “Fine! Yes. I like you— just a little bit.”

To your response he laughs, murmuring against your lips, “I’ll take it, I suppose.”

He presses another kiss against you, and you press back again.

It becomes another makeout session, but despite being the third one of the night, it’s the first time hands can skate against mostly bare skin.

Which his own palms find their way under your jumper, and one cups gently at your breast, flicking over your nipple while his tongue dips into your mouth.

That’s as far as it goes for tonight though.

He kneads the flesh there softly, until you’re panting into his mouth with a heat budding between your legs.

Somehow there’s an unspoken not tonight agreement.

And you know that despite how needy you feel for him, it’s definitely for the best. And you’re still shocked you made it this far with him.

You roll into him further, chest rising and falling quickly as you sigh out to him, “I lied.”

“When?” He sounds completely unconcerned, despite your risky sentence starter.

“Before, when I said I only liked you a little bit.”

He chuckles at your response, “How was that a lie, hm?”

“I like you more than a little bit.”

“You’re sweet, darling.” He strokes his thumb against your ribcage, “so do I.”

To this you smiled. Eyes growing heavy at his rhythmic touches and soothing voice.

And his gentle words are the last that you hear before you fall asleep against his chest.

Both filled with a warmth you haven’t felt in a long time.

———

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #protective harry #love hate relationship #fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #love him so bad #phh #prince hair harry

1K notes · View notes

novelistrry · 3 months

Text

Wind picked up, swirling around the two as she approached him. There was a leather riding jacket hooked on one of the stable doors, and as she approached him directly, he unhooked it and propped it around her shoulders. Reaching down, he began buttoning it up, until his eyes met her.

The sheepish look she had on her face nearly brought him to his knees. “How were your dreams?”

Her face felt hot. Was it noticeable? “Are you teasing me?”

A smile danced across his lips, bringing his hand to her hair and softly caressing it. “Of course not, Princess.”

Harry is a prince, Y/N is a princess, and neither of them know how to feel.

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, forced proximity, fake dating, tension, etc.

Warning: Mentions of panic attacks, nightmares, praise kink, deception, an awkward sexual encounter (consensual of course), etc! Also, this is not proofread.

Word Count: 4k, sorry it's so short D:

Part One

II. The Rain

Niall had been growing increasingly frustrated with Harry as the days passed. As Harry’s hand, and his best friend, he knew Harry was not as cruel as he made himself out to be. This plan of his, this deceit was one of the cruelest things Harry had ever thought of.

Everyday, Niall asked him if he really felt that this plan was sound, and everyday Harry would show remorse. Every now and again, Niall wanted to roll the words “you’re acting like a frightened child” off his tongue, but never could bring himself to hurt Harry’s feelings like that.

As wrong as it felt, as wrong as it was, his loyalty was not to Harry, it was to Y/N, which made him feel like scum at the bottom of a sea barrel. He could not imagine the guilt that was weighing on Harry’s conscience. He knew his friend. He knew his heart.

___

Y/N was floating on a cloud, the air smelled sweet like the grapes growing on the vineyards just South of the castle, and Harry looked so wonderful walking in front of her. A white linen shirt was loosely tucked into his riding pants, and his riding boots hit just under his knees. She could almost see his back muscles through the shirt. It was mouth watering, really. Y/N chose to walk a few steps behind him to admire what he looked like from the back, how beautiful his silhouette was.

As if he could feel her eyes on him, he turned. “Hello, dear.”

Her stomach coiled, and she nearly kicked herself for it. “Hi.”

The sheepish look she had on her face nearly brought him to his knees. “How were your dreams?”

Her face felt hot. Was it noticeable? “Are you teasing me?”

A smile danced across his lips, bringing his hand to her hair and softly caressing it. “Of course not, Princess.”

For a second, she thought maybe he would kiss her but when Brad came out of nowhere, Harry’s hand immediately dropped, putting a chunk of distance between them. Y/N couldn’t help the way her face contorted with disappointment. The way he immediately put space between them almost seemed like he was embarrassed to be acquainted with her.

She never understood exactly what they were, exactly where the boundaries were. Sometimes it felt like they were utterly obsessed with each other, and other times it felt like they were merely conversing because they needed to. The winds grew harsher as Brad neared them. The sound of the wind was like a murmur in the air, musical and somewhat daunting.

Dark clouds had surrounded the palace, signifying rain, which was not ideal riding weather. It was much too dangerous. The sound of the wind replicating the kind of haunting music you would hear the string section play in a Royal Theatre added to the ominous darkness.

“Still doing it, Princess? I’m proud of you,” Brad clapped his hands together, in support of her showing up for riding lessons.

Harry’s jaw clenched together, and his eyebrow twitched as he licked across his teeth. If Y/N knew any better, she would have thought this is something he does when he’s annoyed, “Right, she does very well.”

Her mind rushed, flooding with everything Harry had said about letting Brad into his bed. Was he upset that Brad had complimented her, when he should be complimenting Harry? The pair were so hot and cold, it was beginning to give her whiplash.

Brad and Harry exchanged a few pleasantries as Y/N brought her fingers to Freya’s coat, getting acquainted with the horse once more. Freya was so lovely, and strikingly beautiful.

As Brad scurried off, Y/N had Harry’s completely undivided attention once more.

“I want to get on Freya today.” Y/N spoke the words before she even fully thought them in her head. Her eyes went wide, but she knew why she said it. She wanted Harry to be astounded, to be completely winded with her.

Harry chuckled, tightening the bridle around Freya’s head. When Y/N didn’t say anything in response, he looked over at her and realized she was serious.

“No,” he spoke in a low voice, dancing around the subject with caution.

Anger swarmed her veins, like all of her blood cells had been replaced. Who was he to tell her no? Her ears felt hot, and Y/N’s nose scrunched. It was a habit she picked up as a young child when something didn’t go her way. Whenever she felt her nose scrunch and her eyebrows furrow, she felt like a small child demanding things go the way she wants.

“What do you mean no?” She grabbed the bridle from Harry’s hand, and he couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his mouth. Y/N was even more endearing when she was angry.

Carefully, he grabbed her by the waist, spinning her around so that their chests were pressed together. Taking a breath as the harsh winds racked through the stables, he smelled the scent of her. Vanilla and cinnamon; mouth watering and sweet.

“It means that you are precious to me,” Harry clicked his tongue, eyes locking with hers as if he were trying to convey everything he felt through his eyes. “And you don’t need to impress me.”

“How do you know that I’m not ready?” Y/N’s jaw clicked again, the scowl still apparent on her face, even with his swoon-worthy words. She would not be swayed by his charm.

Harry glanced over to where her hand was white-knuckling the bridle. When she followed his glance, she realized that her hand shook slightly, a nervous habit she picked up after her bad experience horseback riding.

He realized that he needed to approach this delicately; she was stubborn, hard-headed, and did not like to be told she couldn’t do something. He, at times, was so similar to her that it was like they were different sides of the same coin.

She dropped her hand, a deep shame washing through her. It was like he knew everything she was feeling by the microexpressions fleeting across her face.

He took her hands in his. Freya was starting to become an unwelcome third, because everytime he touched her, even in the most platonic way, she craved more.

“Don’t feel shame,” he said softly.

“I…” She trailed off, eyes glued to the ground. It was hard to look at him, and know that he was the picture-perfect prince, and she was so not. “I am not used to being… not good at something.”

Harry chuckled, and when she looked at him, she had never realized how he looked at her with so much delicacy. “I’m the worst sport you’ll ever meet, Y/N. If I am not good at something, it throws my temper. Just ask Niall. I wish I had an ounce of your poise.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” She asked quietly.

“Because… Someone must have told you that it’s not okay to feel fear and I don’t like that.” Harry looped his fingers under her chin, forcing Y/N to take her eyes off the ground and look at him. “We start small, like you did when you were first learning as a child.”

He grimaced at the poor choice of words, comparing her skill level to that of a child’s. Y/N was so easy to discourage, and he felt like he couldn’t say anything correctly.

Y/N saw the grimace and let it go. “So what do we do today?”

“How about today you just sit on Freya. I’ll hold onto her bridle, and you sit in the saddle. No walking, no trotting, just sitting.”

She chewed on the inside of her lip. “For how long?”

“Not too long,” he promised.

And with that said, his hands were all over her, helping her mount Freya. As soon as she was up, her thighs squeezing the horse tightly, he was watching for her micro-expressions that told him he needed to help her off immediately.

But she didn’t have any. If anything, a small smile formed on her lips, like she was proud she got on in the first place. Usually, she chickened out, but with Harry, she felt safe and cared for.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N.” Harry spoke, gripping the bridle closely. His hand rubbed her leg as she looked down at him. Swallowing, he realized he had been gripping the bridle with all his might, white-knuckling it the same way that she was earlier. Harry was feeling more nervous than Y/N was, and a deep sense of pride had him smiling from ear-to-ear as she confidently sat atop Freya.

She muttered an embarrassed-thanks, but by the way her head turned and her smile got bigger, he knew that she was liking the positive attention from her.

“You’re such a good girl, darling,” Harry said softly, his hands now resting on Freya’s sides to ensure she would not move.

“Me or Freya?” Y/N mumbled.

“Both, but I was talking to you, sweet girl.” She was melting.

Freya, feeling sick of their conversation and not being able to go anywhere, shifted her weight from one leg to the other. The sudden movement threw Y/N, causing a yelp to sound from her throat. Immediately, Harry dropped the bridle and reached for her hands, pulling her off of Freya and into his chest.

Whispering in her ear, he tried to soothe her before it led to a panic attack. “You’re okay, you’re fine. Sometimes they get tired of having all their weight on one side, just like us, so they move to get more comfortable. It’s normal,” he hushed her, “You’re okay.”

She shook slightly, but there were no tears or signs of panic in her eyes. As soon as Freya moved and Y/N yelped, Harry was there, pulling her head into his chest and reassuring her.

“Thank you,” she muttered.

He pulled her away, enough to scan her face and make sure that she was actually okay.

“I think that frightened me more than it frightened you, Y/N.” He laughed softly, earning a grin from her. “That’s enough for the day.”

Harry led Freya back to her stable, removing the bit and bridle from around her mouth. Y/N overheard him promise to come out a little later and ride her, or let her run wild in the tall grass behind the stables for some extra exercise. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an apple slice he had stolen from one of the breakfast carts in the hallway and fed it to Freya with an open palm. Harry’s intention was to have Y/N do it, to get over the fear of their massive teeth, but he thought she had enough scare for one day and didn’t trust her to set a boundary she was actually comfortable with.

Using her fingers, Y/N unbuttoned the coat Harry had put on her. She was fixing to put it back on the rack, where Harry had originally had it then head back inside, but he stopped her, letting her know that he wanted to stay out here for a while longer.

Walking together, they found themselves in a large tack shed with a bench for removing riding boots. There were so many tools and instruments for the horses and Y/N didn’t quite understand what they were for, but she had a feeling he didn’t bring her in here for a lesson on tools and riding equipment.

As predicted, the rain began pouring. Pitter patters of rain, hitting the shed pinged off the wooden roof, some of the holes allowing for water droplets to seep in.. It was cold, but she felt cozy nuzzled so closely next to him. Harry was so warm and so safe.

As soon as the door shut behind them, their bodies were pressed together and his lips were merely inches from her own. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

She nodded, but then added, “Why won’t you do it in front of anyone?”

He spoke, now his lips pressed against hers, “This isn’t going to be a gentle peck, Y/N. How would they feel seeing my tongue on the inside of their precious princess’ mouth?”

Harry was so vulgar, sometimes the words that came out of his mouth shocked her, and the gasp that slipped past her lips, Harry used to slide his tongue along her bottom lip and pull her lip between his teeth.

Using the wall made from plywood, Harry moved her so that Y/N’s back was pressed against the wall. His thigh was fitted between her legs as his lips moved against her own. They stayed like this for a while, small moans falling from Y/N’s mouth, and each moan went straight to Harry’s core. He liked earning those from her. He liked being with her.

“I wanna feel you,” Y/N said, and even she was shocked by how outright she said it. With each day, she felt more comfortable expressing her needs to Harry, and when those four words tumbled from her lips, their faces still pressed together, he couldn’t help the vulnerable moan that escaped his own.

“You want my fingers or my mouth, doll?” Harry took a step away, so her body wasn’t smushed between the wall and his own. He wanted to see her face as she answered, as her eyes flickered around the room and she begged for either his fingers or his mouth.

She opened her mouth, then shut it again. That small bead of confidence was beginning to wither away. As if he could read her like the back of his hand, he understood that she was growing too bashful to respond.

“You want both my fingers and my mouth? You don’t have to say it, you can just say yes or no.” Harry tacked on the last end to make this experience as comfortable as possible. They hadn’t been together very much, but he always wanted her to feel safe with him.

“No, no.” She responded, looking down.

His brow quirked upward. “I’m not understanding, Y/N.”

Gently, she pressed a kiss to his neck, her tongue darting over the exposed skin as she suckled softly. It was almost like second nature, wanting to taste him everywhere. The moans that caught in the back of his throat were an added bonus to the sweet taste of his skin.

“You want to feel my cock, love?” He was trying to decipher exactly what she needed from him.

Pulling her lips from his neck, a soft string of spit attaching them together, she nodded her head. “I’m ready for it.”

He shook his head, “Not today, darling.”

She frowned, but he laced his fingers in between hers and led her to the bench against the opposite side of the tackshed. There, he sat, urging her to straddle his lap. She did exactly that, putting one leg on either side of him, so they were touching but their clothes acted as a barrier.

Y/N’s breathing caught in her throat as she felt the thickness beneath his trousers. A devilish smile that she had seen him use on countless other people before spread across his face. Using his hand, he softly grabbed her by the throat and guided her lips back to his.

Their lips worked together; their bodies in tandem with one another. Naturally, her hips started to buck, begging for some sort of relief. As she felt him against her center, she tilted her head back, exposing her neck. Harry used this as an opportunity to attach his lips to her neck and taste her, breathing in the scent of her bath soap. She was so beautiful and enticing, it made his head spin.

As they moved together, her hips became sloppier and sloppier with each roll. He tasted so marvelous, notes of mint and lemon as their mouth worked together. Y/N hadn’t realized just how much she yearned for him, in every single aspect. Even when he was being so mean, she had longed for his approval. Now, she wanted him in every single sense of the word. With just his fingers, he stopped her hips from moving against him, a displeasing cry sounding from her at the loss of friction.

“You’re doing so well for me, darling,” Harry breathed out, slightly out of breath. “I think you need to take your riding pants off, though. You should be as close to me as you can.”

She nodded, and with much enthusiasm, she stood up and quickly unlaced her boots and removed her pants. As she did that, Harry unbuttoned his own, sliding them down to his knees, revealing his white-colored briefs. The sight of him nearly finished her then and there.

“Can I give a small lick?” She asked, not caring how depraved it sounded.

“Christ, Y/N. Yeah,” he breathed.

Y/N sunk to her knees, the cold ground was somewhat uncomfortable but she was too engrossed in Harry to even realize. Darting her tongue out, she licked him over his briefs. Just enough to wet the fabric of them so much that you could see the outline of him.

“Come here,” he whined, but he didn’t have it in him to be mortified with the whiny tone. Typically, he would be.

Like before, she straddled him, her center pressed directly on the hardness of him. Once more, she was moving against him, the pleasure so much more intense now that layers of clothes had been stripped.

He used his hands to guide her, and she mumbled something about how he was a trained professional. This must have stroked his ego in the best way possible, because suddenly he was bucking into her, begging for her to come with him.

Harry often had a tough time feeling comfortable enough to reach his pinnacle with another person, it was something so deeply vulnerable to him that sometimes he couldn’t do it out of sheer embarrassment for them to see him in such an exposed state.

But when he felt her hit her high, he couldn’t stop himself before he was coming too. With no warning, he finished, come spurting in between them and landing on his white linen shirt. Just watching him finish, made her eyes roll back in her head.

Shock washed through him as her hips halted against him. Gently, he removed her from his lap, standing her up. Frantically, he looked around for a rag, anything to wipe the sticky residue off his skin and before it could stain his shirt.

He didn’t watch her as she dressed herself, completely oblivious to the fact that he had no intention of showing her that part of him.

With a hot face, he asked for his jacket to conceal the stains of his come on his shirt as he walked back to the palace, “Is it okay if I have my jacket back?”

She shimmied out of his jacket, handing it to him. He quickly threw it over his shoulders and buttoned it up before muttering out, “That was really good. Thank you.”

Shuffling through some boxes, he found a pancho they used when it was raining but the horses needed tending. He helped her put the cloak on so when she walked back to the palace, she would be assaulted by the rain and grow sickly.

Y/N just smiled at him as he rushed out, letting her know he had somewhere to be. With very much confusion, she watched him as he hurried out the door, rain pelting him.

____

That night, Harry did not find himself going back to the palace immediately.

Instead he wandered around the grass fields, too ashamed to face Niall or anyone else for that matter. Especially Y/N.

But as the sun began to set, and he knew Niall was growing more and more worried as each hour passed, he finally made his way back to the comfortable cottage Niall was staying in during their time at Y/N’s family’s palace. He was completely soaking wet when he returned, shoulders shivering. Niall ushered him to the fireplace, looking around for dry clothes that would fit Harry.

“Where have you been?” Niall asked, a clear tone of worry laced throughout his words.

And with that, Harry dropped himself onto the chair directly next to the warmth of the fireplace and spilled his guts. He told Niall about how Y/N made him feel like he couldn’t control himself, like he was a magnet that only responded to her frequency. He teared up as he told Niall what a terrible person he was for using her like this, and how it was going to feel even worse because his heart was already breaking.

And Niall, like the good friend he was, listened carefully and thoughtfully. Only when Harry concluded did he say, “If you like her so much, why don’t you call off this plan? It sounds to me like the plan is still on.”

“It is,” Harry confirmed. “I’m simply not good enough for her.”

Niall, knowing that he could not argue with Harry when he was in a mood as sour as this, rested his hand on his shoulder and offered a reassuring squeeze.

___

That night, Harry found himself sitting outside Y/N’s door, afraid that her scary experience on Freya today might haunt her in her dreams. With his back against the door, and tired eyes threatening to close, he waited to hear her screams.

He wanted to be there, to hold her and tell her it was okay.

Dorothea, hearing the sound of feet shuffling as Harry readjusted himself so that his earshot had a clear line of Y/N’s room, went out to investigate who was lingering in the hallway.

“Prince Harry?” Dorothea asked, wide eyed and confused.

Harry hummed in response, barely flickering his eyes up to meet hers. He was so tired, they were threatening to close.

“It’s the middle of the night, what are you doing here?” She was slightly delirious from just waking up.

“I’m on nightmare watch,” he muttered out and it took a second for Dorothea to comprehend exactly what he said to her.

“Prince, if she has a nightmare and calls out for you, I will come get you again. You do not need to miss sleep to wait outside her door.”

“And what if she doesn’t call out for me?” His tired eyes looked up, “Will you still come get me?”

“Yes,” she promised, reaching her hand out and helping him to his feet. “Go to bed, Prince. You need beauty sleep.”

He nodded his head, rising to his feet with her help and turning to the direction of his own bedchamber. “Can you do me another favor?”

“Hm?” The sound coming from Dorothea was soft.

Harry reached his hand behind his neck, massaging softly. “Please don’t tell her.”

Dorothea only nodded in response, a silent promise between the two of them.

382 notes · View notes

jarofstyles · 4 months

Note

prince harry and common girl lover (best friends since childhood) + “we can’t keep hiding like this”

OH YES!!!! A bit of forbidden love.

Check out our Patreon!

------

The wind billowed the edge of the blanket they laid on, hiding underneath the willow tree as the sun got a bit lower in the sky. Being wrapped in Harry's arms was the most safe she ever felt, despite the fact it was the most dangerous place to be. His heart thumped steadily against her cheek, fingers running over the opposite as she felt his eyes burning a hole into her.

"We can't keep hiding like this." His voice rasped, lips turned downward. "I can't handle it anymore, Petal. I've been trying to find ways to be alright with hiding how much of my heart that you own but I keep hitting a wall. I believe it's because something is telling me I shouldn't hide you." He gently ran his knuckle over the bridge of her nose. "I want to tell them. Everyone."

Y/N's eyes burned as she closed them, trying to control the shaky exhale she released. It didn't work. She knew he was an optimist, her beautiful sunshine prince, but he had too much to lose. She couldn't be selfish with him, not when the entire kingdom would rely on him one day. "You know we shouldn't, Harry. You've been promised to someone else since the day you were noticed in your mother's belly." It was hard to control her voice, the weakness of it giving it away to Harry that she was struggling.

Nudging her up, he cupped the side of her face and thumbed over the high round of her cheek. Eyes scanned her face, taking in her slightly wobbly bottom lip and the glaze over her eyes that wrecked him. It shouldn't be this difficult. He shouldn't have to hide the person he loved with his entire being, so much so that she consumed him. He knew his mother would understand, but his father would be resistant. He would tell him that a future king had to make decisions they didn't like, and he would need to abide by the arrangement.

"I want to marry you, Petal." He whispered, connecting their lips at the end of the word. It was a pained kiss, one he was trying to melt into softness. Take away the brittle edges and file them down smoothly, let her feel the way he did. His sweet girl was so afraid, so nervous of what would become of them but Harry couldn't fathom a world without her at his side. "I want you to lay next to me at night, I want your hand in mine, your lips to only ever feel the shape of my own. I crave you every single second you are away from me. Don't you understand? How I yearn for you, I ache. Not just to be inside of you, but to be with you. To listen to your breaths as you sleep, just knowing that you're there." He swallowed thickly, nudging his nose against her own and took another kiss. Harder this time, a harsh breath leaving his nose as he pulled her, moving her dress so she could straddle his lap.

"My love, my sweet, my Petal. Please... allow me to take the risk." He pleaded. "Allow me to tell them of us, let me take the punishments if need be. I will do anything for you." His words were whimpered as he pressed frantic kisses to her lips, her cheeks, her forehead. "I feel like I'm going insane. As the day of the engagement party grows closer, I feel the walls of the castle getting smaller. I feel suffocated. The only time I can breathe is with you." His hands clutched her close, almost as if to prevent her from slipping through his fingers.

"Oh, Harry." She whispered sadly, watching his eyes water. It was unlike him, her sunshine prince. He was so bright, so warm. To see the storm clouds settle over the sun was alarming and she hated the sight. It wasn't right. "Do you think I don't feel the same? That I'm not physically ill at the idea of you bedding someone other than me, even if it is only to provide an heir? Do you think I don't cry in my bed after I leave the sparkling stars and you, wishing I could crawl back to you? But I feel so selfish." She pecked his nose, letting their foreheads rest together. "So, so selfish. What if they strip your title? What if they banish you? What if it's forced regardless and there's a rift between you and your family? I cannot bear the idea of ruining your life. I can't take the sunshine away from you."

The world was quiet. The birds chirped and the branches moved, leaves rustling in the wind, but the only sound they could hear was each others breaths and their own heartbeats in their ears.

"I would let them." He whispered after a moment. "I would let them take it all away from me before I let them take you. I don't think you grasp how much you mean to me. You are my heart." His eyes burned as he looked at her. "I would run with you, I would find us somewhere and build a life with you. Nothing else matters more than you." He sniffled, pressing his lips back against her and laying repetitive kisses to her lips. It was hard to convey just how much he truly loved her. How she had his heart in her hands and his should wrapped around her finger.

"Harry..." She laughed through a tear, looking down at the hand holding her waist tight. "I hope you know I feel the same for you. You're what I need." Her fingers brushed the hair that had fallen into his face, the soft curls unfairly highlighted caramel in the sunlight that bled through the leaves. He was inhumanly handsome. "I'm afraid for you."

"I'm afraid for myself if I don't admit my love for you. I can't be trapped in a loveless marriage when I have a love. The greatest lover there is. I want children with you, I want you by my side. Whether I'm king or not, having you would be my biggest accomplishment." He meant every word. Every beat of his heart belonged to her. "I'm going to tell them. I'm going to make you my wife, regardless of the cost. All I'll ever need is you."

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry drabble #harry styles imagine #harry writing #harry styles writing #prince harry styles #royal harry styles #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry angst #harry smut #harry fluff

383 notes · View notes

sweet-creature101 · 30 days

Text

Envelopes and Punches

Harry Styles, a rich and wealthy boy falls in love with a poor girl who scams the rich for a living and simply does not care of what the world has to say about it.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, violence and swearing.

Your heart pounded as you ran, your shoes squeaking against the wet pavement. The earphones in your ears blasted songs as you ran. This was your escape, an escape from the life you had at home and school. While running, no thought crossed your head. No thought of how to make money, how to get food on the table or how to get through another day of school full of entitled rich kids.

If there was anything you had learnt in your seventeen years of existence, it was that life has a way of becoming ruthless. One simple law governed your whole life and it was “every man for himself.” Years of living in poverty had taught that the only way to survive is by either scamming the rich or stealing money; food stamps and social security cheques could only bring in so much.

You reach your house after your daily morning run. The small fence gate flung open with a single push. The stench of alcohol and cigarettes reach your nose, it used to make you recoil internally earlier but you soon got used to it. Your mother was lying on the sofa flicking through programmes on the television. You sighed deeply as you removed your earphones and stood in your living room with your arms crossed.

“Mom, it's seven in the morning, stop watching the television.” You took a glass of water and walked over handing it to her. In the distance, through your window you saw a truck unloading boxes and a bunch of people your age handing them out “What's that going on?” You asked your mother.

“Volunteers. Think they can make this shithole better by handing out a few boxes.” Your mother scoffed. “Don’t ya have school?” She added, eying you suspiciously.

“I do.”

**********************

School was awful. Being on a scholarship and poor in a school full of rich kids did not work in your favour. The students here did not express their contempt for you in a straightforward manner but you knew it was there, flowing like a steady undercurrent. You knew that they disliked you from the way they easily dismissed you, averted their gaze from you and simply ignored you. You only had two friends, Angela and Zayn. Both of them were on scholarships just like you.

“Did you see trucks outside your house?” Zayn asked, swirling the spaghetti around his fork, slightly grimacing at the sound.

“Yeah, didn't let me sleep. I almost skipped school because of that shit.” Angela said grumbling.

“You always want to skip.” You pointed out earning an eye roll from her.

“That's besides the point. Oh by the way, y’know who's the new football captain? Zayn just loves him.” Angela said, raising her eyebrows, a mischievous smile on her face. “It's Harry Styles.” Zayn said huffing, “I almost thought of quitting but then I realised that the minute I quit, they send me out of here.”

“What's so bad about him?” You asked, stuffing fries in your mouth.

“He’s a stiff. Too nice. All he does is smile.” Zayn said, rolling his eyes.

“That's what you don't like about him?” You asked, your eyebrows raised at Zayn. He flipped you off and poked his tongue at you.

“I need to get to class, can’t get another tardy slip.” Angela said getting up and brushing down her top with her hands. “I’ll walk you.” Zayn got up and stood looking at Angela. “And they say chivalry is dead.” You remarked winking at Zayn who turned into a deep crimson.

You sigh deeply and pick up your bag, your legs groaning in pain from all the relentless running you’d been doing. Walking out the cafeteria you don’t notice the crowd of boys coming your way. You take out your phone and scroll through your text messages, the last one from your mother telling you that she’ll be late coming from work. Too immersed in answering her text you didn’t notice what was about to happen.

You bump into a hard body, your shoulder bearing the brunt of it. “Hey, watch where you’re going scumbag.” One of the boys warned you. You square your shoulders and look him in his eyes, a challenge etched in your burning eyes. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going, prick.”

Harry saw it all unfurl in front of him. Jason always had a way of letting his temper get the best of him, after getting decimated in practice he was left in a sour mood. But here Harry was, watching a girl half Jason’s weight challenge him as she stared at him, her kohl smudged eyes not blinking. Harry knew who you were, the school did. Perhaps that's why no one ever talked to you or your friends. “The band of exiles” is what his friends called you and your friends.

“Keep moving.” A voice called from behind. Harry knew who that was, it was their coach who could see the potential outcome of this. Jason scowled at you and moved. You rolled your eyes and walked ahead.

“Hey, I’m Harry. Sorry about that, Jason’s never been nice.” Harry said, his hand finding the back of his neck as he scratched it nervously. Harry looked at you and thought you were nothing short of beautiful. He didn’t miss the kohl smudged around your eyes, your thick lashes or the curve of your lips.

“I’m Y/N. It's fine, don’t apologise for him although he could use getting his teeth knocked out once a while just to keep him in line once a while y'know.” You said, smiling a bit. Harry chuckled, feeling a warm bubble grow in his chest.

“Of course I’ll keep that in mind.” Harry said nodding, his smile wide and pearly.

“You are the captain after all.” You said, shrugging lightly.

“You know that?” Harry asked you a bit surprised at your awareness of this.

“I’m in enemy territory, I need to keep my eyes and ears open.” You said smiling and looking down at the ground, suddenly aware of the holes in the sleeves of your tee shirt. You immediately hide your arms behind your back.

Harry wasn’t stupid nor was he oblivious. He noticed what you did and why you did it. The inside of his chest flamed a bit on seeing you hide yourself. “You’re not in enemy territory with me Y/N.”

“We’ll see about that Harry.”

**************************

“You have to come with me Y/N. Come on, it’ll be fun!” Angela said, twirling around her room with a dress in her hand.

“I have no clothes Angie, at least none for parties besides I have to make phone calls tonight.” You said, sighing as you flopped on her bed, the broken springs squeaking under your weight.

“You can scam the rich later.” Angela chuckled. She opened her cupboard, which was covered in splinters and had a broken knob but did the job. Although you weren’t sure if it wasn’t infested with termites.

The room had a low ceiling, a single cupboard, a small wrought iron bed and a dresser with an attached mirror. Your room was the exact same, except the fact that even your wooden floorboards were falling apart in some places although you had decorated it with fairy lights all over.

“How am I supposed to pay for food, electricity or even water then?” You questioned her.

“Tomorrow, make as many calls as you want, hell even rob someone. But tonight you’re a free bird.” Angela tapped on.

“Where are we even going?” You asked her, looking at the cracks in the ceiling. Angela smiled triumphantly at her win.

“Niall's house.” She said, wiggling her brows.

“Horan?”

“Yeah, we’ve been talking on and off so he called me over at this party he’s having tonight.” She said, looking at herself in the mirror.

You thought over it, you needed the money desperately. You’d just have to call your usual clients (rich men who cheated on their wives) at the party itself.

“Fine. Let’s go then.” You said getting up.

“You can't go like this.” Angela said, eying you up and down. You wore a loose white tank top that had a rather deep neck than what you usually wore, a pair of mini black shorts and your dirty converse that were on the verge of tearing apart.

“Watch me.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“At Least let me straighten your hair. And do your makeup. And lend you my jewellery. And-”

“No, that's all you can do, Ang.” You shot back.

“Okay fine. Now sit.”

It took you over an hour and another thirty minutes to reach Niall's house which was across the city. Of course, the rich wouldn’t live anywhere near the faulty neighbourhoods. Which is why you hated being here, standing near the pool, watching the same people you avoided at school watch you. The drink in your hand didn’t have the effect you expected it to.

Might as well get work done. You thought to yourself.

You brought out your phone and opened the list of phone numbers you had smuggled in from a friend who worked in charities and had a knack for observation about who glanced too long at who. Stalking these men outside The Ritz, the most expensive hotel in town on Fridays also helped your cause. You dialled the first number, waiting for the man to pick up.

“Hello?” A heavy and gruff voice answered from the other end.

“Am I speaking to Raymond Sturgis?” You asked, your sweet as if it were dripping with honey.

“Yes, who is this?”

“It doesn’t matter. I know you meet up with Chayenne every Tuesdays, Thursdays and the weekend outside the Ritz at approximately 6:30, maybe even 7:00 depending on traffic. God knows what your wife would think of that? She’d divorce you, claim her share in the company which- correct me if I’m wrong, is a whopping sixty percent. Oh and also claim custody of your kids.” You said smugly.

“What do you want?” The voice on the other end had become visibly strained.

“Four thousand dollars, cash.”

“I could easily report you. You’d go to prison for this.”

“By time the police reach I’d have already mailed your wife pictures of you and the lovely Chayenne.”

“Fine. Where should I drop the cash?”

You told your usual address, a park fifteen minutes away from your house and to drop the cash by midnight. You sigh and sit down at the lounge chair staring at the water.

“You’re knee deep in enemy territory, soldier.”

You heard the familiar voice, a smile finding its way on your lips. You turn your head and find that all too familiar face smile at you, eyes glazed and a lazy smile with two bottles in hand.

“I see you bear gifts.” You said, smiling just as he did.

“That I do. Beer or breezer or whatever is in this cup?”

“I’ll take the cup and beer.” You said.

Harry sat down next to you, your knees and thighs touching. “Been over a week since I last talked to you, although I keep on seeing you everywhere.” Harry said. You almost choked on your drink at his uncalled confession.

“Why didn’t you approach me then?” You asked him, turning your face to look at him. You thought he looked handsome, handsome in a rugged way. You breathed in his deodorant. Maybe it was the alcohol, although it barely acted but you wanted to kiss him.

“Asked myself the same thing every day.”

The last Harry talked to you was when he needed notes in English. He tried to concoct funny if not odd reasons to talk to you and here you were, sitting next to Niall’s pool where Harry had drowned far too many times.

“I wished you did.” You spoke suddenly, drawing Harry out of his trance.

“Talk to you?”

“Yeah.Wait,” You said, downing the whole bottle of beer in a single breath, grimacing at the taste. “I like you Harry, like talking to you. You’re better than most people here, other than me of course. But you see me, not just look at me. That’s got to count for something.”

Harry felt his heart leap at your words.

“Fraternising with the enemy, guess you’re not that good of a soldier after all.” Harry said chuckling, tucking a loose strand of your hair. He didn't miss the way your cheeks flushed a deep crimson nor did he miss the way you quickly averted your gaze from his eyes to the ground. He would’ve found this change in demeanour amusing had he not been harbouring the intense desire to kiss you.

“Shut up.”

*****************************

Days of talking turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. You and Harry had been friends for over two months. Two months of drinking on rooftops of buildings you didn’t know existed, two months of getting to know each other, two months of having the bubble of feelings you had for him grow bigger and two months of still wanting to grab his face and kiss him.

And you never wanted to kiss him as much as you did now, locked in a tiny broom closet at Niall's House. The alcohol in your system didn’t help either. Your self control was being tested with every passing second.

“Seven minutes have never felt longer.” Harry chuckled, breaking the ice. You both were standing close enough that you could feel his hand brush yours, his chest leaving a phantom touch.

“Don’t sweat it Styles.” You mumbled.

“You know, I never noticed how pretty you are.” Harry said, a smile appearing on his face. You blushed furiously.

“Shut up.”

“No, that's a lie. I saw how pretty you are the minute I set eyes on you.”

You quickly averted your eyes to the ground, looking at your shoes.

“Y/N, look at me. Please.” Harry kept a finger under your chin and nudged your face towards his.

“Don’t do this Har.” You said, peering into his clear green eyes.

“Why?”

“Because I want to kiss you and we’re both drunk and then we’ll never talk about it and then we’ll forget about it and then-”

“Shh. It’s okay. I’ll kiss you when you’re sober. Promise.” Harry shushed you, placing a finger on your lips.

“You don’t have to promise.” You mumbled against his fingers.

“I want to.” He smiled at you, hooking a hand around your waist and dragging you closer.

“Okay.” You said, smiling slightly.

“But for now,” Harry kissed the corner of your lips.

“Are you always this cheeky?” You questioned laughing.

“Only with you.”

***************

“Move it to the left.”

“Are you stupid mate?”

“Oh wait, move a bit towards the right.”

Out of all the ways Harry imagined spending his weekend, delivering boxes of essential goods to an abandoned neighbourhood in the south side was not what he expected.

“Ugh when do we go home?” Blair asked, looking up from her phone. Loose strands of blonde hair had escaped her ponytail which now came down to frame her face.

“Not until afternoon so sit tight.” Jason said, carrying a load of boxes.

“Jeez, we have to give them a toothbrush too? Like isn’t that three pounds?” The irritated girl said, peeking into the boxes in front of her.

“Less talking, more work. That means you too Blair.” Harry said checking off boxes in this list he carried.

Harry often found his mind wandering to you. Thinking of you, your smile, your laugh, your eyes and anything remotely related to you. He wondered where you were, what you were doing right now.

“Did I tell you my dad got threatened?” Blair said, blowing a bubble of the gum in her mouth.

“What?” Harry immediately forgot about the list in his hand and diverted his attention to the blonde.

“Yeah. Someone just called out of nowhere and told him to leave money in a park or else she’d leak some information.” She said casually.

“A park?” Jason asked snorting.

“Yeah and it’s not too far from here either.” Blair continued.

Harry merely hummed. He particularly didn’t care about what happened to Blair’s dad and certainly didn’t care that he had to bear a bit of damage. From a distance, he saw a figure running. He thought it looked like you but blamed it on wishful thinking.

Harry didn’t realise it was you until he could properly see you. You were running, your hair was bound in a loose ponytail. He saw you were wearing his favourite shorts, short enough to show your legs yet long enough to just cover your butt. The tight black tank top you wore left almost nothing to the imagination.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Harry called out, smiling wide.

You look at him and his friends like a deer blinded by headlights. Your grip tightened around the envelope in your hand, hoping Blair wouldn’t notice that it was her fathers company logo embossed onto it. You silently cursed that man as a fool once you saw that he sent his company envelope.

“Harry, hi. I didn’t expect to see you here.” You nervously chuckled. Harry walked towards you, slinging an arm around your waist drawing you closer. You could feel his hand go lower and lower.

“Are you here to help us?” Blair asked you, eyeing you up and down.

“Oh, no. I went out for a walk.” You replied.

“In this neighbourhood?” She further questioned you, her eyes narrowed into slits.

“I live here.” You stated firmly, waiting for the taunting, name calling or anything of the sort. You felt Harry straighten behind you.

“Oh.” The taunting never came. You couldn’t decide what was worse, contempt or pity.

“Yeah well I better get going.” You said, sensing the shift in environment. “I’ll see you later, yeah?” You told Harry, turning around to kiss him on the cheek.

Harry blushed slightly, squeezing your waist tighter. “Of course”

You begin to walk, half relieved that no one noticed the big logo on the envelope in your hand.

“Hey! Wait”

Spoke too soon.

You turn around to find Blair looking at you, her arms crossed and her expression morphed into one of accusation.

“Show me that envelope.” She demanded, walking closer to you.

You stand straighter, your shoulders squared. “What’s it to you?” You retort back.

Blair came behind you and suddenly snatched the envelope. “You bitch,” She spat at you. “You’re the one who’s been threatening my dad. How low can you go?”

“It’s nothing he didn’t deserve.” You said calmly.

“I knew letting in people like you in our world was a mistake. You’re nothing but scum. We all know your mom gives blowjobs and we all know that you’re going to carry the family legacy.” Blair taunted, laughing dryly at you.

“Shut up you don’t know anything.” You said, desperately trying to hone the storm inside of you.

“No Y/N, trust me I do know. I know that you’re going to be the neighbourhood whore, like your mom. That’s all you’re good for. You’re a nobody. You always were and you always will be.”

The rage you felt in that moment was blinding. You had to fight back, if not for who you are right now then for the five year old girl you used to be. That small timid girl who would flinch at every noise, every echoing gunshot and everything.

You tackled the girl to the ground and punched her. You keep on punching her, swallowing your sobs as you drained out her screams and everyone else’s around you. You feel hands drag you away from the girl and hurl you to the ground.

“Y/N stop. You’re better than this.” Harry looks at you, with soft eyes.

“Is she though?” Jason asked, carrying Blair to the truck. You avert your gaze to the boy in front of you.

“Yeah, what you’ll beat me too? Try me bitch.”

Bitch. Scum. Lowlife. Nobody. Whore.

“I’m not a bitch.” You say, your voice hoarse.

“Can’t say the same.” Jason curtly replied.

You look at him with angered eyes, certain that if you could blow steam, you would be doing so right now.

“You know what Jason, maybe I am a bitch. Maybe I’m a lowlife, scum, a whore, a nobody or maybe even all of those things.” You said, getting up walking to him.

You punch him square in the face, breaking his nose. You wanted him to hit. You wanted him to hit you hard, hard enough to knock you out. And he did. You felt pain sear straight from your stomach upto your eye, like a hot brand marking your skin.

And then everything went dark.

*************

Radio silence. Three days had gone by since your cards had been laid bare, three days since you had beat up Blair, three days since you had gotten beaten up, three days since you last heard from Harry. It was unbearable, this constant pining and anxiety. Which is why, the second you got the text from Harry asking you to meet him, you didn’t hesitate before saying yes.

You sat on your usual bench, waiting for Harry. There were a million things you wanted to say, a million things on your mind and a million more you wanted to ask. You heard the shuffling of footsteps and knew who it was.

“Hey.” You looked over to see Harry. He looked devastatingly handsome tonight.

“Hi.” You said back, looking down.

“Let me take a look at you.” Harry said, hooking a finger under your chin. You refused to meet his gaze. He felt his heart grind a bit at your reaction. “Look at me, please?” Harry asked softly.

Your eyes met his and you felt tears spring up in your eyes. You bit your lip to keep it from wobbling. “Hey hey, don’t cry. I’m not leaving you Y/N. I’m here for you okay?” Harry said, kneeling down so that he was face to face with you, taking your hands in his.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You deserve so much better.” You sob, completely breaking down.

Harry hugs you tight, holding you until you calm down. “What does a mermaid wear to math class?” Harry asked you.

“What?” You mumble, your face squished against his shoulder.

“An algae-bra.”

You laugh, your head feeling better. “It’s so bad Har.”

“Ah there’s my girl.” Harry said, pulling away, smiling at you. “I like it when you laugh.” He said, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“So, scamming huh?” Harry asked you, sitting beside you.

You sighed through your nose. “Before you call me unethical, I only do that to men who cheat on their wives, it’s easier that way.” You said looking up.

“Well, at least someone’s maintaining the justice system.” Harry chuckled.

“How’s Blair?” You asked him.

“Not as bad as you, she doesn’t have a black eye like you. She’s healing and she’s decided not to press charges.” Harry replied.

“Thank God.” You sighed in relief.

“You wanted Jason to hit you, didn’t you?” Harry looked at you, asking you the question you knew he would.

“Yeah.” You mumbled quietly.

“Why?”

“Because everyone at school calls me a lowlife, scum and what not. It angers me. It makes me want to scream and yell and shout. The only way I escape that anger is when I’m sleeping.”

“So that’s why you wanted him to hit you. To escape.”

“Is that so wrong?”

“No, it’s not but don’t do it again. I won’t let it happen again.”

“Okay.”

You scoot closer to Harry, placing your head on his shoulder and holding his hand. You felt safe. You felt happy. You felt at home.

“Y/N?” He called out your name. You look at him, the moonlight illuminating the crests of his cheekbones. You bring a hand up to trace them.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask him.

“You beat me to it.” Harry said, smiling at you.

He suddenly took your face in his hands and kissed you. He kissed you long and hard, like a man starving for food. The bubble in your chest exploded. The world around you suddenly didn’t matter. A mosaic of sensation exploded around you as you kept on kissing him, your hands travelling around every inch of his body, savouring him slowly.

Harry pulled away, kissing the inside of your wrists, your neck and then your nose.

“No matter what happens Y/N, I’ll always be here for you. No matter what the world says. You can trust me and I swear on my life, I won’t hurt you.” Harry told you. You felt your eyes burn again. “Stop making me cry so much.” You half chuckled.

“Great, I still have to ask if you’ll date me. I reckon that’ll make you cry more.” Harry said.

You squealed in happiness, tackling him down the bench as you both fell to the ground. You kissed him long and hard.

“Yes Harry. Yes”

Authors note: So how are we feeling about this? Let me know in the comments if you liked it or not. Talk to me and interact, I love it when you do.

All the love,

138 notes · View notes

green-typewriterz · 6 months

Text

Lilacs and Forget me nots

Part two

Harry Styles x princess!reader

Summary: Crown Prince Harry Styles is quiet, secluded and most of all, an asshole. No one would ever want to marry him. Unfortunately for you, you don’t get a choice

ASK: Could you write a prince Harry Styles/ princess reader. It can be an idea of your choosing but ideas are 1. they get engaged without their knowledge (something basic) I‘m really not that good at improvising so I‘ll let you decide on what to write and I‘m sure I‘ll love it! Thank you!!!

Warnings: none???

word count: 1645

“Engaged?” You practically screamed at your father, your face red from anger. He sat in his favourite armchair in his room, the work in front of him now discarded. You could barely believe the words that had just left his mouth - this definitely wasn’t something you were ready for.

He eventually looked up at you, his kind eyes tired. “I’m sorry Y/N, this is our only option. We need allies, Queen Anne’s kingdom can provide that.” He looked back down again, picking up a large weathered paper and beginning to read it.

You thought for a moment, realising who exactly he meant. Queen Anne had two kids and one of them was unavailable, leaving Harry. You sat down on the end of your father’s bed, tugging on your hair as you tried to wrap your head around it. “Harry? Is the allieship really worth me marrying an ass?” Your father tried not to laugh, trying to keep the situation serious.

“You will meet with him this evening, you will get along and unfortunately for you… you will marry him.” He replied, there was no room for argument and you knew that this was the end of the conversation. You left the room soon after, going to get prepared for the guests.

Harry sat beside his mother, idly fiddling with his shoulder length hair as the rest of his family spoke with the King and Queen. He did not want to be here and he could not be bothered to hide that. The girl he was supposed to marry hadn’t even bothered to show up yet and he felt as though he had wasted his best suit on this meeting.

After a while, the group sitting in the dining hall heard gentle laughter echo through the large corridor beside it and your mother smiled as she saw you enter the room, making small talk with one of the cooks. Harry turned to look at you, studying your face. Your E/C eyes were bright and, when they weren’t attentively watching the person talking, they were creased in a smile, your H/C hair was elegantly styled and your simple dress was shining in the candlelight.

He was ready to admit to himself that you were beautiful, but it didn’t change his mind. He did not want to marry. You sat in the seat beside him (one that you could tell was specifically placed for you and said your thanks to Poppy, the young cook you were good friends with before turning toward the conversation in front of you.

“Queen Anne, I’m sorry for my lateness, I simply lost track of time.” You spoke calmly, bowing your head. Harry scoffed and you turned to look at him, for a moment, not saying a word. Harry leaned back in his chair and began speaking with Gemma, who was on the other side of him.

You were ready to admit to yourself that he was handsome, but a handsome bastard is still a bastard - no matter how dazzling their emerald eyes were. You listened politely to conversation, nodding every now and then to assure them you were listening but in reality you couldn’t concentrate. You could feel Harry’s stare on you and it was obvious that he wasn’t even attempting to join in on this conversation. He was judging, cold and you couldn’t bear to be near him.

The meal ended after what was four arduous hours and you excused yourself from the table, heading back to your room. It only took a moment for Harry to follow after, stopping you in the middle of the hallway by grabbing your wrist. “Y/N.” You turned to look at him, taking him in fully for the first time. His ringed hand was still gripping your wrist, his body moving closer to yours to speak more quietly. “It’s clear that neither of us want to marry the other.” You sigh in relief as he spoke again, “So, we have the ceremony and we don’t talk again.”

You shook your head, moving closer to him to argue back. “I want to marry for love. If I wed some bastard that wouldn’t care if I died, I'd never be able to marry a person who I truly want to spend my life with.” You pulled your wrist from his grasp, frustration circling like a cloud in your mind. “I refuse to marry you, even for the sake of an allyship.”

He scoffed, “If we are speaking our minds then let me make it plain. I don’t wish to wed you either, the difference between us here is that I’m not a childish girl.”

“Aren’t you?” Harry never moved from his spot and, though you wanted to, you found yourself unable to move anyway. You could feel his breath, sharp against your cheek and his hands, that were mere inches away from yours, repeatedly clenched, his fingers brushing against yours every few moments.

There was a tension. It settled in the hallway like the remnants of an echo. Harry’s eyes lost their fury, softening under your gaze. You stood your ground, not understanding how to feel as your lips parted to sigh gently. You could feel yourself inch closer. He did the same. It was only when his eyes closed that you pulled away. Not uttering another word to the prince.

---

Harry’s family had had residence in your palace grounds for the past few weeks - the guest chambers available to them until the wedding. Everybody in the palace was busy, decorations were being placed and final adjustments to be made. It was in your Kingdom’s best interest that as many royals attend as possible, the allyship between you and Harry creating many opportunities for many people. You sat in the middle of your room, wearing nothing but your white boned corset and a long, sheer underskirt.

“I just find it unfair that I have to wear this torture and he gets to wear nothing but a suit.” You refused to even say his name and hadn’t done so since that evening. Your maid, Tilly, laughed gently, muttering to herself about your repetitive complaints. You huffed as she stood you back up and continued to tighten your corset as there was a knock at the door.

Neither of you had a chance to answer as it swung open, revealing Harry stood there in his suit. You quickly attempted to cover yourself with your hands as he walked in, speaking furiously. “Please tell me it was not you that invited that Duke.” The look on his face told you who was talking about, “I feel as though the both of us are already uncomfortable enough with this wedding and having him in attendance won’t make the situation any less easy.”

“That’s not the only reason she may be uncomfortable, m’lord.” Tilly spoke quickly, a sharp, motherly tone in her voice. He turned to look at the two of you, eyes widening as he realised the situation. Harry swiftly spun around, turning to face the door. His cheeks flushed red.

He pulled at his hair, fiddling with one of the plaits that had been braided into it. “I was just wondering if I had the permission to politely escort him from the grounds.”

You shook your head, arms still covering your body. “I don’t think that wise, Harry,” Then you smiled to yourself, tilting your head down so he wouldn’t see you laugh, “It’s also not wise to pretend you’re not looking at me while intensely watching me through the mirror as you have been doing since you turned away.”

You could see the blush on his face through the mirror and attempted to stifle a laugh as he coughed awkwardly, leaving the room once more without a goodbye. Tilly scoffed and began to get to work again, listing endless complaints about the boy who had just intruded. Your mind was clouded, you didn’t know what to think anymore.

---

Harry stood nervously at the altar, these last few weeks having given him time to think. His hair had been fixed for the fifth time now as his shaking hands kept stressfully removing the braids (much to the hairstylists chagrin). Y/N was meant to arrive any moment now and, as he stood in the wood, looking at all of the lights that the designers had hidden in the trees and waited, palms oddly sweaty.

Then, as if you had read his mind, you stood at the end of the aisle. Your dress was impossibly beautiful. The corset section was almost similar to armour, with lilac flowers embroidered onto the bone, the flower of his kingdom. The gentle lace at the top of the corset was a light purple, and the silk, off-the-shoulder sleeves seemed perfectly placed. The skirt was clean and white, the length of it trailing behind you. The bottom of the dress slowly became tulle (almost like a fabric gradient) and eventually made it look as though a trial of lilacs was following behind you. Harry’s white suit perfectly matched yours, though the embroidery on his was that of forget-me-nots, the flower that was on the front of your family's crest, chosen by your family to represent devotion, loyalty and true love.

At that moment, it was as though a switch had flipped. Harry’s throat went dry, his eyes taking you in as if he might never see you again. When you reached his side, he leant forward, whispering into your ear, “Any cruel word ever uttered from my lips toward you hurts me to remember. I regret every cold moment that could’ve been spent relishing in your elegance. I am truly sorry if I have harmed you.” He leaned away again, a genuine smile on his face.

You met his eyes and raised your hands to take his. “All is forgiven, my prince.”

#fic #fanfic #one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #prince harry #prince hair harry felt fitting for this #prince hair harry #prince harry x princess reader #prince harry styles #prince harry styles x reader

81 notes · View notes

lovecanyon · 2 years

Text

INSTAGRAM BLURB

king!harry x queen!y/n…

MASTERLIST | PATREON

liked by billieeilish, tchalamet and 702,844 others

voguemagazine Say hello to your new King and Queen of the United Kingdom, Harry and Y/N Styles!

view all comments

ynfan2 WORLD = STOPPED

harryfan4 i’m crying

yoursister yes! yes! yes!

ynfan6 this is actually so iconic 😭

zendaya holy shit…i’m friends with the queen?

harryfan8 this means harry and y/n have to move back to the uk…

emmalouisecorrin i am never shutting up about this

ynfan3 THE HOTTEST ROYAL COUPLE EVER

harry_lambert screaming as i type this

harryfan5 y/n and harry’s friends being so excited for them is so cute omg

florencepugh the most iconic queen and king

ynfan9 twitter is in flames right now

harryfan11 i support this so much

alexademie 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

ynfan7 moving to london

alessandro_michele love!

liked by harryfan10, ynfan12 and 790,142 others

royalupdates Y/N AND HARRY AT A AIRPORT IN LOS ANGELES LAST NIGHT!

view all comments

harryfan14 THE WAY THEY ARE KING AND QUEEN NOW

ynfan16 harry and y/n aren’t even in the uk 🤭

harryfan18 you know harry is dreading moving back to london

ynfan13 diana is a princess now omg

harryfan15 i always forget their daughter is named diana 😭

ynfan17 same…

harryfan19 they are so cute together

ynfan21 i still can’t believe y/n and harry are king and queen

harryfan23 one of the best royal couples ever

ynfan25 this is really happening then 🥳

harryfan27 literally going insane

ynfan29 THEY ARE ON THEIR WAY

harryfan26 please stop sending me these pictures of my fiancé wrapped around another woman. this is not me and it's hard enough knowing this has happened without seeing it. enough now.

ynfan30 so many celebrities are posting about harry and y/n…

harryfan32 i will not stop talking about them

ynfan34 truly a moment to remember

After his grandmother passed away sadly yesterday, Harry now takes on the role of being King and his wife Y/N, Queen. A statement from The Royal Family released yesterday on behalf of Harry and Y/N becoming King and Queen. Many people seemed satisfied with the decision and expressed their feelings onto social media.

Out of all 39 generations of The Royal Family, the Styles couple received more praise than ever. It’s no surprise everyone loves them, their wedding was the most celebrated royal wedding without it being streamed on national television.

Many sources tell us Harry and Y/N are already moved into Buckingham Palace with their daughter Princess Diana. The new Royal Family is now settled in.

liked by harryfan31, ynfan33 and 1,270,633 others

ynharryupdates Y/N OUT IN LONDON TODAY!

view all comments

harryfan35 she literally slayed

ynfan35 I LOVE THIS SO MUCH 😭

harryfan37 our queen!!!!

ynfan39 this is such an iconic moment

harryfan41 YES YES YES YES

ynfan43 y/n really said team princess diana

harryfan45 she could run me over and i would not care at all

ynfan40 the queen in all her glory ✨

harryfan44 the only reason why i like royalty

ynfan46 this is giving princess diana’s revenge dress 🤭

harryfan48 LMAO RIGHT

ynfan42 y/n arrived in england and ate everyone up

harryfan50 one of our best queens yet

ynfan52 YESSS THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING

harryfan54 y/n becoming queen is actually so amazing

ynfan51 I AM CELEBRATING ALL DAY BECAUSE OF THIS

harryfan53 national y/n and harry day

liked by ynfan55, harryfan57 and 870,611 others

stylesdaily Harry arriving at his wife’s coronation in London!

view all comments

ynfan59 HE IS SO HOT

harryfan61 ‘his wife’ don’t shove it in my face like this 😭

ynfan63 i want to be y/n

harryfan65 his glasses, his suit, him in general 🫠

ynfan67 harry’s smile has me sliding down the wall

harryfan69 he’s literally a dream

ynfan62 the most perfect man ever

harryfan64 y/n is so lucky to be married to him…i want her life

ynfan66 tell me about it

harryfan68 harry is so pretty omg

ynfan70 he can kill me already

harryfan72 DILF DILF DILF

ynfan74 you know he’s so happy right now

harryfan76 he seriously has me in a chokehold

ynfan78 everything about him is perfection

harryfan71 his dimples…🫡

ynfan73 the only man i’ll bow down too

liked by arianagrande, tomholland13 and 3,709,611 others

theroyalfamily Our Queen Y/N Styles with her mother at her sovereign’s consort.

view all comments

harryfan75 OH MY GOD

ynfan77 both are literal queens

florencepugh i’ve been waiting for this moment 🤍

harryfan80 this is the best thing ever

tchalamet can’t believe i’m friends with the damn queen

ynfan82 I LOVE THIS

harry_lambert two beauties!!! ✨

harryfan84 i’m loving y/n as queen

yoursister MY TWO FAVORITE WOMEN ❤️

ynfan86 why is this so cute

alexademie such an amazing moment

harryfan81 imagine having a daughter and she becomes the queen of england…

alesandro_michele so sweet 🍓

ynfan83 queen!y/n is such a slay

emmalouisecorrin AHHHHHHH

harryfan85 emma is all of us right now 😭

zendaya i’m literally crying

liked by ynfan92, harryfan94 and 907,514 others

updatingstyles Y/N AT HER CORONATION CEREMONY TONIGHT!

view all comments

ynfan91 she looks so happy

harryfan93 Y/N IS THE MOMENT!!!

ynfan95 i love this for her 🥹

harryfan97 going insane over this

ynfan99 SHE IS SO BEAUTIFUL

harryfan102 y/n is already eating up being queen

ynfan104 she was born to be queen

harryfan106 the way every celebrity was at her ceremony 😭

ynfan108 i aspire to be y/n one day

harryfan103 loving all the queen content today

ynfan105 SERIOUSLY NEVER GETTING OVER THIS

harryfan109 she married royalty and ended up becoming queen… now that’s what i call being god's favorite

ynfan113 best queen already

harryfan115 this is the biggest thing ever

ynfan110 happiest day 🥳

liked by harry_lambert, alexademie and 2,805,711 others

variety Y/N Styles the new Queen of England gets interviewed and photographed by her husband, Harry Styles for her September Variety cover.

view all comments

ynfan122 queen elizabeth is shaking

harryfan125 Y/N IS SO BEAUTIFUL 🙏

harris_reed i need this magazine ASAP

ynfan127 harry took the photos?? i’m crying

hunterschafer i needed this in my life

harryfan129 y/n has the biggest chokehold on me

zendaya IN LOVE

ynfan131 she’s so breathtaking

yoursister amazing. amazing. amazing.

harryfan133 harry interviewing y/n is the cutest thing ever

nickkroll queen = model

ynfan135 i am going to need her on more covers

taylorswift MY QUEEN

harryfan137 harry giving y/n all the spotlight is so sweet 😭

kaiagerber loving this

ynfan139 i don’t know if i wanna be her or be with her

Never in her life would she expected to become the Queen of England, yet here she was moving back into The Buckingham Palace with her husband and daughter. When she left the United Kingdom and moved into a bungalow in Malibu she did not expect to be moving back so suddenly.

Taking the role of Queen earned many positive responses. But there were some people worried about a 28 year old running England.

“I understand the different points of views. Why would you want someone so young to become the Queen of England.” Y/N comments. “But people wouldn’t put me and Harry in charge if they knew we weren’t capable of being King and Queen. We know what we are doing.”

Becoming a mother just 11 months ago had the world discussing the Styles couple, especially when they named their baby after Princess Diana which left people in shock.

Majority of individuals praised the two for naming their daughter after Styles’s mother, but there had been rumors of some Royal members not liking the honored name.

The almost one year old princess Diana is adored by the world. One of Harry’s close friend’s Alessandro Michele constantly sends little Princess Diana custom clothes, in an interview he said she was the sweetest baby ever.

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ivegotparticulartaste @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @academiaghosts @japanchrry @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @newyorker14 @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @eunoiamaa @kaitieskidmore1 @cherryfragrancx @ssuziess @milkiane @golden-hoax @flwrmuse @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @iluvjj @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @olivialovesh

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #prince!harry #king!harry #duchess!y/n #queen!y/n #harry styles au #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #husband!harry #harry styles fake social media #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles one shot #harry styles fan fic

1K notes · View notes

harryssattelitestomper · 10 months

Text

Going on tour with bf!Harry (written one-shot)

Warnings: Use of "she/her" pronouns. Cursing.

Wordcount: 1K.

A/N: I'm not used to writing written one-shots but I tried my best, I hope you like it! Feedback is always welcomed 🥰

To be fair I hadn't meant to leave packing for the last minute, I just got distracted with other things. At least that's what I kept telling myself. But the truth was I just couldn't find it in myself to start, I mean no one likes packing for trips.

Perhaps my lack of enthusiasm was just because I knew I had to pack almost my whole entire wardrobe with me. I mean I was going on tour with Harry for a month. And a girl needed outfit options.

After finally pulling myself out of my spot on the bed where I had cocooned myself, I began to sort through my wardrobe and putting my stuff into my suitcase.

After what felt like hours I was finally done with packing. I put my suitcase at the end of Harry's and my bed for him to carry downstairs later and made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

I grabbed an iced tea from the fridge and after receiving a text from Harry saying he's gonna be home in an hour, I started making dinner.

As I had just finished making the pasta sauce and began to pour it in with the pasta I heard the front door closing.

"Lovie I'm home" I heard Harry yelling from the entryway, sounding relieved to be home.

"In the kitchen!" I continued making dinner as I waited for him to reach me. And a few seconds later I felt strong arms around my waist and a face being showed into my neck, peppering kisses along the expanse of my neck.

'missed yous' and 'i love yous' being murmured into my neck, I finally let myself move from the embrace and turned around to face him, my arms looping around his neck.

"Hi" his voice soft as if he'd just woken up even though that was not the case and he had in fact been up since 6am.

"Dinner's ready" I stated as I loosened my arms from him and started getting plates up from the cabinet.

As we situated ourselves at the dining table, plates full of pasta and glasses filled with red wine we relaxed, talked about the upcoming departure for the last shows of Love On Tour and just enjoyed each other's company.

It was 6am when Harry's alarm rang and it was time for us to go to the airport. Since we had packed most of our things, we just did our morning business, got dressed in some comfortable clothes and took off in the car that had been ordered for us. We were going to Werchter, Belgium for some of the shows that were ending an era. We had traveled back to our London home inbetween the Cardiff show and the Werchter show for some much needed rest. Because nothing beat the feeling of sleeping in your own bed.

After about an hour flight we'd arrived to Brussels from where we'd take a car ride to Werchter since it too took only an hour.

When we finally arrived to our hotel we straight away flopped onto the hotel bed, even though the flight and car ride were fairly short, traveling and interacting with people was always a bit exhausting so we took a quick nap before meeting with the others (Ai Sarah, Mitch etc.) at the lobby and going sight-seeing.

We went to see Stadhus van Leuven, which I wasn't sure if it was anything special but at least the building was absolutely beautiful.

After visiting a few more landmarks and going to grab some lunch, we strolled back to the hotel to get ready to leave for sound-check.

I was sitting on a random equipment box watching Harry and the band practice (really I was just admiring him). He randomly waved at me or blew me a kiss which, even after three years of dating still got butterflies to appear in my stomach.

"What's up" he chimed as he made his way over to me on the equipment box.

"Nothing, just thinking bout' how Love On Tour is almost over" I replied, with a bit of a bittersweet tone.

Harry moved to sit with me on the box and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"It is kind of bittersweet isn't it? A part of me is scared about people being disappointed in me taking a break but a bigger part of me is so excited about what's to come." he mumbled while playing with my engagement ring.

I just nodded my head and leaned my against his shoulder, knowing he was more making an observation than waiting for an answer. As we sat and watched the crew putting things in order I kept thinking about how proud of him I was.

"Guys you need to go get dressed" Jeff told us so we made our way to Harry's dressingroom.

Harry was dressed and doing his pre-show stretches as I once again stood on the side as to not get in anyones way. I had also changed my outfit (per H's request since he liked when I matched him) .

As it was time for him to start going on stage he came to collect his good-luck kiss and he was on his way.

I also made my way towards Anne who had flown to tonight's show. We, together with my assigned bodyguard made our way into the VIP/family booth.

"Can't believe tour's almost over" Anne mumbled to me when we were finally seated and rested her hand on mine. "Me neither, I'm trying to make the most of it before it's over" I answered her as I took in the view around me. Nothing could beat the way people lit up when they saw Harry, how they exchanged bracelets, dressed in colorful clothes, felt at ease. Oh, how I was gonna miss this. Obviously I knew there where so many things and new projects waiting for me and Harry in the future, but I've never been good with change.

As Harry finally came on stage he immediately had everyone drawn to him. Everyone's attention was on him.

As the night went on me and Anne danced and sang, watched Harry reading and answering signs, laughing with him, just enjoying the night fully.

After all; New and great beginnings are often disguised as painful endings.

122 notes · View notes

therealhousewifeofharrystyles · 8 months

Text

👰🏼‍♀️Mrs. Styles’ Masterlist📜

🔞= Smut // ⚠️= Taboo // 🎭= Angst // 💕= Fluff

Whatcha Doin', Step Bro?(Finished…?)

WDSB - Prequel 🔞⚠️💕

WDSB - Part 1 🔞⚠️

WDSB - Part 2 🔞⚠️💕

Harry's Home

HH - Part 1 🎭💕⚠️

HH - Part 2 🎭💕🔞⚠️

HH - Part 3 🎭🔞⚠️

HH - Part 4 🎭💕🔞⚠️

Oneshots

Berries & Cream 🔞⚠️

78 notes · View notes

adoringhrry · 1 year

Text

type: fluff

Pairing: prince hair Harry x reader

Warnings: slight swearing, anxiety, younger sister being a jerk

Notes: Written in 2nd person! Harry is not famous in this. This is based off of the show/books of “To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before” with some added details. “The Outsiders” also influenced this as well!

To The Boy I loved Last Year

About a year ago, you had written a love letter to a boy in your year. It was a paragraph or two and silly but the memory still made you smile. Usually you wouldn’t ever have the nerve to say such romantically cheesy things, but you hadn’t seen the harm in writing it in a never-to-be-sent letter.

When you had finished writing it, it was tucked away in a little shoebox under your bed. Never to be touched. Never to be read. It could never be read by him, especially since it had your name signed at the bottom. Your stomach dropped each time you thought about that; him knowing who you were and calling you a crazy stalker.

The letter had been completely forgotten about. You still thought Harry was cute, he was the prettiest boy in your school- in your opinion. This year the two of you barely had any classes together, so the crush had started to fade. It was like a memory you can never fully remember yet, it stays in the back of your mind forever.

On a drab Wednesday while looking for a pen that rolled off the desk, you found the box the letter had been tucked away in. You pulled the box out. The memory of writing it and sealing the envelope with a kiss rushed through the forefront of your mind. Maybe it was time to reread the silly thing and have a laugh at yourself.

But to your dismay, the letter was gone, along with all the other things you stuck in the box over the years. No one in your house regularly snoops through your room but your little sister. So she had obviously done something. Quickly, you ran out of your room in search for her.

“What did you do with that letter in the box under my bed?” You shouted at her, your face heating up with annoyance.

She turned to you, taken aback. “What do you mean what did I do with it? I sent it. What else are you supposed to do with a letter?” Her face contorted in confusion.

“When..when did you send that letter?” Fear clawed at your lower stomach, heart dropping down to your feet. You could feel how pale you had gotten, anxiety barreling through you like a freight train.

“I think a week ago? Y/n what’s wrong? His name and address was on it! All it was missing was a stamp.”

“It was missing a stamp for a reason, you damn idiot!” You shouted, your feet carrying you to the door and out. Surely, you could get to his house before he could read it, right? Simple solution. Harry’s ‘family’ didn’t seem like they checked their mailbox daily.

Harry lived with his friends. They called themselves a little gang, but really it was a bunch of kids running around stealing money from tip jars sometimes. You had overhead them in the hallway once. You were almost sure you heard Harry talk about how his parents were in a mobile accident.

When you got to the mailbox of his home, which conveniently was on the other end of your block was empty with the flag up. It mustn’t have turned up yet. With a sigh, you put the flag down out of habit and walked off. Luck hadn’t been on your side today so you knew it not coming yet didn’t seem likely.

The next day your nerves were at an all time high, even the slight sound of a scuffing boot made you jump. It was so bad that your sorta friend, Marie, had even noticed.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, turning towards you.

It had caught you off guard, staring down at the practically inedible school food. She didn��t really care about anyone’s feelings but herself. But even if she didn’t actually care, you thought it was the better time than ever to talk about it.

“I wrote this love letter a year ago to this guy I had a crush on. I obviously never sent it, but I signed my name and put his address on the envelope.” You slapped your hand across your face, embarrassment creeping up your neck. “I found out that my sister sent the letter to him a week ago.”

After a few seconds, Marie’s face twisted up in a overbearing smile. A smile that stretched from ear to ear. “That’s amazing! You won’t even need to confess. Isn’t that perfect?”

“I wish it was that easy, M. We live really close and if he doesn’t reciprocate the feeling, I’m beyond screwed. The second he reads the letter I’m done for.” You complain, putting your down on your arms with a groan.

Picking your head back up, you looked over towards his table. Your mind wandered, against yourself. The last year had changed him so much, his features had matured and his hair was grown out. But yet, he still had that boyish charm. He wasn’t like the other greasers in his gang, he wasn’t like any of the guys in the whole school. Maybe even in the whole world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once the bell had rung and you were out of the building, a wave of relief washed over you. You were thankful he hadn’t come up to you at all. Without a second thought, you thought that it meant he hadn’t read it yet.

Then a gentle hand fell on your shoulder. Fuck.

A sigh escaped your lips before turning to see the boy you’d been avoiding all day. Red creeped up your neck, undoubtedly creating a tense atmosphere. Harry spoke a soft greeting; your stomach dropped.

“God, listen..I’m so sorry. You weren’t ever supposed-“

“I ain’t- do you think I’m mad or something?” He let out a laugh, his voice deeper than it was before. “I wanted to ask if you would come to my place and help me with some homework?”

Just like that a weight was lifted off of your chest. He hadn’t read the letter! He probably hadn’t even gotten it yet. All he wanted to do was hang and study. That you could do. Definitely.

A smile appeared across your face, familiar emotions bubbling up in your abdomen. “Yeah. Right now?”

He nodded in response. After a few moments you started over to his place. That smile on your face never really faltered. Silence engulfed you both, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You were relishing in his company.

As you reached the steps to the front door, he turned with a coy smile. “The place is a little messy, but my room’s fine.”

You followed him in and a wave of nostalgia hit you. Everything was exactly the same, down to the hung picture Niall drew a few years ago. It wasn’t as nearly as messy as you’d think, especially with almost seven teenagers roughhousing in there all day. Zayn and Harry mustn’t have gotten to clean yet, knowing they were the only ones who cared about how the house looked.

You walked into his room and sat on the far end of the bed, starting to twiddle your thumbs. Anxiety started to tiptoe up your legs, making itself known.

Harry sat at the other end of the bed, leaving two feet between you both. “So Harry-”

“Please, you know it’s H.”

Butterflies.

“So H,” you emphasized his nickname, smiling at him. “What did you need help with? I know I won’t be any help in algebra if that’s what you’re stuck on.”

He nodded his head, twisting his body to pull something from under his pillow. That’s not a great hiding spot.

When he turned back, the world stopped. The letter. Opened, and definitely read. “I actually wanted to talk about this.”

He let if fall between your cris-crossed legs, lingering a few inches in front of your hands. You were itching to just snatch it and run as far as possible. Red. That’s all you felt- hell, more like scarlett.

You felt like hundreds of pairs of eyes were staring at you. Felt like a criminal being investigated. Anxiety raced up and down your veins as you stared at the little thing that has ruined your life.

Say something! You yelled at yourself, scolding your locked lips.

“I- oh gosh. This wasn’t ever supposed to sent at all. I’m sorry if it made you think anything weird or-”

“Hey it’s alright, Y/n. I honestly thought it was kinda cute.”

Silence. Uncomfortable. Damnit.

“I’m sorry again, it wasn’t supposed to be read by you. It was just some silly thing I di-”

You were cut off by a soft pair of lips. They were gentle and very wry, testing to see if it was okay. You were startled. There was no reality you made up in your head where he reacted like this. You thought he’d hate you forever.

Just when he started to pull away, his confidence gone, you cupped his jaw. His skin was porcelain smooth, and it took your breath away. How he could look tough but feel so soft made your legs tremble and feel like jelly.

The kiss only lasted for another few seconds, leaning back to read each others emotions. “I’m glad that letter was sent.” Harry’s voice filled the silence.

“Me too.” You breathed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the day I met you.” He smiled, showing his dimples.

167 notes · View notes

cinemastyles-backup · 7 months

Text

Visiting Home Part 2

Summary: Y/N and Harry continue to celebrate Christmas at his family's home and gets the surprise of a life time

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, sexual innuendos, pregnancy talk, fluffy filth

My original CinemaStyles-blog has been terminated, so I created a new one.

PRINCE HARRY

I can feel Harry's gentle touch on my lower back and I slowly roll over to face him, "Morning." I mumble with a smile, my eyes still closed.

I feel his lips brush mine and his hand slides down my side, his fingers tracing over my hip, "Good morning." He whispers nudging my neck with his nose, "sleep well?"

I nod and slowly open my eyes, "I did."

"Good." His lips plant kisses over my shoulder and his hand slowly slides between my legs, "Good."

I part my thighs and turn to look over at him. He smiles at me as his fingers gentle presses on and rubs tiny circles onto my clit, "I'm glad."

He leans in and whispers, "Are you still okay with what we talked about last night?"

I bite my lip and my eyes flutter shut, "Yes."

He adds more pressure, "I can't stop thinking about it."

I arch my back slightly and reach down to grab his arm, "Please, Harry."

He chuckles softly, "Please what, baby?" He moves his finger lower and slides it between my folds, "This?"

I nod quickly, "Yes. Yes."

He slide his hand over to my hip and rolls me over so I'm on top on him, "You're in control, baby." His hands rests on my hips as I bite my lip and reach down to grab his cock.

His eyes flicker down and he watches me slide down onto him. His lips part and his fingers sink into my skin, "Shit."

"Shh, baby." I whisper as I lean down, "Don't want to wake anyone up just yet."

He nods and bucks his hips, "I need you to move, baby."

I slowly lift my hips up and slide back down, building up to a semi-fast pace. I bury my head into his neck and whimper, "Baby."

"Hmm." He turns his head and kisses my cheek, "That feel good?"

I nod and sink my nails into his shoulder, "Y-Yes." I lean up and tilt my head back as I lay my hands on his chest.

"Such a beautiful view, baby." He moans and bucks his hips again, "Fuck."

He rolls us over and pushes all the way in, "You feel so good." He groans as he thrusts, "So fucking good."

I clench around him and grip the sheets as my body arches off the bed. He wraps an arm under my back and kisses between my boobs.

He grunts and pushes all the way in, "I-I- fuck."

I can feel his cock twitching inside of me, and I moan.

He waits a few minutes, just staring down at me before he pulls out, "I have something for you."

I walk to the bathroom and turn the shower on. I lean against the door frame as I see him open the closet and pull out a neatly wrapped package, "What is that?"

"For you. I had it mailed here and my mom wrapped it." He hands it to me, "I wanted to give it to you last night, but.." he smirks, "Open it!"

He interlocks his hands together and holds them to his chin.

I unwrap the package and my lips part, "Harry. You didn't!" I drop the wrapping paper and hold up the two packs of matching pajamas, "You got some too?"

"I did. One for you, and one for me." He smiles and walks over, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." I smile and give him a kiss.

——

"Good morning and Merry Christmas!" Anne says walking in with coffee, "Here you go, sweetie." She hands me a mug and I smile, "Thank you!"

She smiles and sits down, "Alright. So who wants to go first?"

"I will!" Gemma says handing us our gifts, "I hope you like them."

I open them up and my mouth drops, "Are these out yet?"

She shakes her head, "Not yet. They're the newest ones we've been working on."

"I love them." I pop the sunglasses on and l look over at Harry, "How do-" I laugh when I see Harry do the same thing.

"They look beautiful on you, thanks Gem." He smiles and puts them back into the case.

Harry gives Gemma and Anne their gift from us and we sit back and wait as they open them.

"Oh I love it it's beautiful!" Anne says holding up the necklace, "Thank you both so much!"

"This is so pretty!" Gemma says looking over the scarf, "Thank you!"

Anne gives us our gifts and I cover my mouth, "Awe. Anne. This is.. this is beautiful." My eye graze over the picture frame with mine and Harry's name on it, and engraved is the date we started dating.

I blink away the tears and show Harry.

He smiles and shakes his head, "That's such an old picture, mom."

Anne smiles and bats the air, "It's my favorite."

"Thank you." I get up and walk over to her and hug her.

"I'm so glad to have you as part of our family." She whispers and kisses my cheek. I smile and walk back over and sit next to Harry.

My eyes keep scanning over the picture and I can't help but not smile.

"Thanks mom." Harry walks over and hugs her. She smiles and pats his back, "You're welcome, darling."

Harry walks over to the tree and grabs a box, "Here's your other present." He hands me the box and I take it, "Oh gosh, Harry."

I start to unwrap it, and there's a box. I open it and there's another box.

"No, Harry. You didn't." I pull the box out and hold it up, "Such a nice gift."

They all laugh and I unwrap that one to find another box.

Then another box.

And finally, another box.

"Okay. Okay. That should be the last one." Harry chuckles.

I open it and there's a card, "Look behind the tree." I look at Harry, "Huh?"

"Go look behind the tree." He smirks and I look at Anne who shrugs. I slowly get up and walk over to the tree, leaning around to check it.

"Harry there's no-"

I drop to my knees and start to cry.

"Y/N. Will you please do me the honor and agree to become my wife?" Harry gives me a smile and looks at me, "I love you so, so much. You're the person I want to start a family with."

I nod my head and fall into him, almost knocking both of us over, "Yes. Yes. A hundred times. Yes."

He pulls me in tighter and kisses my cheek over and over again, "I love you."

"I love you."

——

"So." Anne says sipping her wine, "How does it feel to be engaged, y/n?"

I look down at the ring and smile, "I love it."

Harry lays a hand on mine, "I love you." He leans in and kisses me on the cheek, but stays to linger to quickly whisper into my ear, "I can't wait to see that hand with the ring wrapped around my cock."

I clench my jaw to keep my composure and I let out a sigh. He smirks as he can tell he has me flustered.

"What we're you thinking? Spring wedding? Summer wedding?" Gemma asks, "I'm so exited."

I shrug, "Oh wow. I Um, I haven't put much thought into it honestly."

"We'll figure it out." Harry moves closer and sets his hand on my thigh, "We have all the time in the world."

He shifts his hand to the inside of my thigh and gives it a little squeeze. I clench my thighs together on his hand and lean forward slightly, spreading them for him.

"Gem, you're definitely the maid of honor, so act surprised when I ask you later on with a cute box of stuff." I laugh and take a sip of my water.

Harry moves his hand up and presses it against my clothed pussy.

Gemma lays a hand on her chest and gasps, "Oh gosh! Thank you!"

Harry gently massages my clit and It feels so good.

I don't even want to talk because I know the next sound out of my mouth will not be words.

"Now I really have to take you to the shops, y/n." Anne says with a smile, "I'm so happy for you both!"

"I'm so happy with her." Harry cuts in, his fingers still pushing circles, "I don't think I can find anyone better to put up with me."

I bite the inside of my lip and slowly push my hips forward. He smirks and pulls his hand away, "Y/N, can I see you for a moment?"

I set my glass down and nod. I look up at Anne and Gemma, "Excuse me." I get up and follow Harry into the hallway.

"What's up?"

He leans in and kisses me, gently pushing my back against the wall, "Do you want to tell them?" He kisses down my neck.

"Tell them what?" I bite my lip as his hands grip my hip.

"That we're trying to start a family?" He whispers kissing back to my lips, "They're already so excited about us getting married, I-"

"Yes."

His eyes light up, "Really?"

I nod and reach up to grab his chin, "There's going to be a lot of dirty sex for you." I whisper and smile up at him. He smirks and shakes his head, "How'd I get so lucky?"

I shrug, "I ask myself that everyday."

He grabs my hands and kisses my knuckles, "So when does the dirty sex start?"

——

You can find part three here

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated and don’t forget to hit follow! ♥

69 notes · View notes

cherievol6 · 2 years

Text

home ‘sweet’ home

i wrote this very randomly whilst i was eating my breakfast - enjoy! x

you hate where you live and harry has a sweet surprise

word count: around 2k

warnings: swearing, fluff, slight hints towards seggs, rats (ew)

One thing you couldn't get used to in New York City was the noise. If you could change one thing about living here, it would be the raucous shouting of your next door neighbours when the flat above dropped cigarette ash on to their heads. Or the never-ending repairs that seemed to be happening a few floors down - one morning you were ready to march down and snatch that drill right out of their hand. It was all very different from what you were used to, being from a quaint village in the north of England. Your job offered you a change of scenery and you were more than ecstatic to take it, but you were starting to slowly regret it. Especially when you're roused from your sleep with a buzz coming from your intercom.

You grumble, rolling over in your sheets and stuffing your face into the pillow. The intercom buzzes and buzzes incessantly and you plug your ears, trying to imagine yourself not hungover and sleeping on hot sand somewhere in the Canary Islands. The buzzing becomes rhythmic now and you smack a fist into your pillow, dragging your sluggish body out of bed and dodging half of your belongings to get to the buzzer.

"What?" You snap. (You were learning the decorum around these places).

"Wow, good morning to you too, baby. Gonna let me up, Grump?" Harry's voice crackles through the intercom with a teasing lilt and you manage a tired grin, not answering and pressing the buzzer to let him in. Your eyes are blurred, either infection from your mascara or just tiredness, you weren't sure, but you can't find the energy to care as you bundle back into your covers, awaiting the arrival of your boyfriend.

"Fucking hell, you look rough." He laughs as he toes the door open with a click of his boot and lets it slam behind, prompting another round of shouting from the neighbours around.

"Fuck off, Mrs Wence. You still have my oven dish and I want it back!" You yank open the window above your bed and screech as well as you can from where you're lying, rolling on to your back to meet Harry's gorgeous yet humoured look once you slam it shut.

"You're turning into one of them. What would your poor British mother say?" His dimples carve out his cheeks as you grin, and although hungover, his smile still makes you feel all giddy inside. It wasn't fair how he was the better looking one of you both (although he'd probably argue against that).

"She'd tell me to wind my fucking neck in." You snort, eyes slipping over Harry's outfit and noticing the plain look, a beanie pulled over his head for extra cover.

"Damn right." He gives you a stern look as he unzips his jacket, and you ignore the shudder that travels through your body at his tone.

"Got woken up at four this morning, think two rats were having a scrap over a slice of pizza." You sigh, watching Harry move towards the small table you had in the corner, which would technically only class as a ledge, and retrieving a pink box with a glint in his eye.

"Hopefully this'll make up for it then." He reveals a selection of the most heart-attack inducing treats, glazed over so generously you could almost see your reflection. You sit up quickly.

"God." You whine, digging your hand in immediately when your empty stomach begins to make itself know. Harry stutters out a laugh and shakes his head.

"You've never made that noise with me." He snorts and you smack his bicep at the innuendo.

"You just can't go five minutes without making an innuendo, can you?"

He sighs, placing the box down on your bed and planting his hands on his hips.

"Unfortunately not, no. Should've heard the one I had about the cream horn-"

"If my head wasn't pounding so much I would get you into the tightest headlock right now." You say through the pastry in your mouth. He wiggles his eyebrows and clicks his tongue.

"Kinky- Ow! Okay!" You pinch his hip tightly under his t-shirt and he concedes, raising his arms in defence. You sit quietly for a few seconds and finish off the pastry, not caring about how ravenous you might look, or how the crumbs were falling on to your sleeping top. Harry watches you endearingly, leaning forward to swipe the glaze from the side of your mouth and suck it off his own thumb.

"Are you like, really horny today, or something?" Your eyes are squinted as you regard him. He shrugs, stretching his arms above his head and cracking his knuckles. He seems a bit more restless than usual and you can't pinpoint exactly why.

"For you? All the time."

"Shut up." You gaze at his stomach when his arms lift and feel yourself wanting to lean against his warm skin.

"Are you gonna get in for a cuddle, or what?" Your tone of faux-offence gets his attention.

"Not in those crumbs." He frowns, pointing to the pastry flakes on the mattress. You awkwardly laugh, brushing them away hastily. He finally gives in, leaning down to take off his shoes and your voice is urgent.

"No outdoor-"

"Yes, no outdoor clothes, I know." He shakes his head, but his face is nothing short of amused as he whips his shirt off, wriggling his tight jeans down his legs with a bit of difficulty and collapsing on to the bed.

Harry once said you remind him of a koala, the way you just instantly cling to him whenever he's near. Proving the likeness correct, you loop a leg around his and yank his torso towards you, burying your face in his skin that's slightly cold from the biting weather. "Mm. You're nice and warm." He mumbles.

"I've missed you." You sigh.

"You saw me two days ago." He laughs, wrapping his arm tightly around your body and stroking your hair.

"Don't ruin it." He giggles again when your voice is muffled from his skin and his hair that was growing a bit too long. There's a beat of silence between you both and you feel your breaths going heavier and heavier the longer he holds you, softly scraping his nails along your shoulder blades, just the way you loved. Your favourite days were the ones where he'd just show up unannounced and you'd spend the day in bed, keeping each other warm in different ways, ordering food, watching his favourite films (despite your inability to enjoy movies thanks to your short attention span, but you made an effort for him).

His body doesn't seem to be relaxing as you're falling deeper and deeper in to a state of sleep and it concerns you, dragging you out of the thickness of the midway between circadian rhythms.

"Hey." Your voice is soft as you peel your eyes open, leaning up to kiss him gently on his lips.

"Hey. Your lips taste sweet." He matches your quiet tone and kisses you a couple more times.

"You okay?" Your hand travels up to his shoulder and you massage the area, bringing it to play with the cross chain around his neck. He looks at you with round eyes, the green effervescent as ever, as if he's contemplating something. He looks down at your hand fiddling with the charm, grasping your fingers tightly.

"I need to talk to you about something important." Your hand retreats and you frown, nervous at the seriousness of his tone. God, was he about to break up with you? It would be a shock if he did, considering you two had been together for nearly two years.

"Okay." You manage, your brain not caring about the hanging headache from the vodka you drank last night, instead your heart pumping a mile a minute. He sits up and you sit up with him, placing a hand on his thigh when he starts to pinch his lip - telling you he's nervous.

He's about to open his mouth when a loud car honk comes from down below and loosens the tension, making you both breathe a laugh. He gazes at you, pushing your hair away from your face.

"Perfect timing." He mutters. You squeeze his leg to urge him to go on and he takes a deep breath, reaching behind for his jacket and digging in the pockets for an unknown item, prompting your hands to sweat.

"I don't know if there's any around-the-houses way to say this, so I'll just say it." This is the most nervous you've heard him since he asked you to be his girlfriend. His hand that stayed clasped shut opens, revealing a shiny silver key with a small donut keyring hanging off it, and you feel your face heating.

"I-I know your lease on this flat is nearly up. And you really fucking hate your neighbours, and wish you had more space y'know? It's hard for both of us to even fit in your bed," you both laugh in tandem and you think you see tears gathering in his ducts, prompting you to place against his cheek. "I was looking for a place here anyway, so I thought, what better than to ask you to move in with me. Make it our new home, no?" He looks so small in this moment, face unsure, body language telling you he's tightly wound.

"Seriously?" You say thickly, your throat starting to close. Your fingers delicately pick up the key and you smile at the added touch of your favourite food on the chain. He looks at you nervously, thumb reaching to wipe the tear you didn't even feel roll down your cheek.

"Yeah. Like deadly serious, baby. I wanna wake up to you. I also don't think I can stay over here one more night and listen to Mrs Wence's dreadful voice. That woman puts a foghorn to shame." He grins when he produces another spluttered laugh from you. "So?"

You place your free hand against your warm forehead and shake your head. "What do you mean, so? Of course I want to fucking with you, Harry, baby-" you don't even finish your sentence, leaning forward and kissing Harry fervently, to convey your point more strongly and wipe the insecurity off your face. He hums, kissing you back and lowering you both to the pillows, hovering over you as he leads the kiss, a lot less innocently than the earlier ones he was giving you. You drag his full weight on top of you and tangle your fingers through his hair, letting him trail kisses down your neck sweetly.

The thought of Harry buying a place with you in mind makes your heart soar, him walking around imagining the two of you co-existing inside, cooking together, making each other coffee, sharing a bed. All of it made you absolute mush inside.

"I love you." You breathe, watching his kisses go lower and lower. The key was dropped from your hand at some point, and you make a mental note of finding it later. All you can concentrate on is how Harry's fingers and fiddling with the straps of your underwear however, so it isn't the top priority on your list.

"I love you too. So fucking much." He says through a kiss planted on your navel, making you breathe out a small whine. "Truthfully, I've been wanting to ask you after about two months of dating you, but I didn't want to scare you off." You snort, "Can't wait to have more privacy at our new place, feels like we need it."

You blush at his words, remembering a time when you might have gotten a bit too loud one night with Harry when your window was open, prompting a very stern note to be slipped under your flat door. It was safe to say you couldn't look your neighbours in the eye for a good week.

"Yeah. It will be nice to have a bigger bed too." You unconsciously raise your hips.

"More room for cuddling, and such."

He kisses your thighs now, purposely dodging the place where you want him most, making your patience wear thinner and thinner. Your finger tilts his chin back up and his eyes are shining like the pastries.

"You're a tease. Bringing a girl some donuts and then asking her to move in with you, just so you can get some? I expected better from you, Harry."

He grins, looking at you darkly from his position and digging his nails into your thighs. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and it makes your entire body feel like it's buzzing. "Never said I was a gentleman, baby."

"No, a gentleman would be taking off my underwear right now." You say pointedly, and he breaks his stern look, throwing you a wink and hooking his fingers through the sides.

"I'll get to it then, shall I?"

i’m not ignoring you all!!! I’ll get to writing part two of crying in the backseat asap <3 in the meantime, if u wish to support my writing, feel free to check out my ko-fi (no pressure!). love u all sm - M x

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry #harry styles angst #boyfriendrry #harry styles story #boyfriend!harry #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles oneshot #harry styles smut #harry styles husband #harry styles x reader #y/n #harry styles x y/n #prince hair harry #new york

620 notes · View notes

novelistrry · 11 months

Text

Harry visibly clenched his jaw, but that didn’t stop Y/N from going on, “You want to speak of your deception and your dishonor?”

“I don’t think you have any right to speak about deception or dishonor, Y/N. You parade yourself as the perfect princess, and yet, you lie to your subjects. Do not lecture me on deception or dishonor,” Harry drew the boundary between them, a harsh red line that was clear and hard to miss.

“Is blackmail honorable, Prince?” Y/N seethed.

“Is fucking the stable boy honorable, Princess?” Harry didn’t know if this was actually factual, it was only the assumption he made as to why the stable boy would lie for Y/N for so long.

Y/N stuttered over her words, “I-I’m not!”

Harry is a prince, Y/N is a princess, and Harry is incredibly deceptive

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, forced proximity, fake dating, tension, etc.

Warning: Mentions of panic attacks, nightmares, wet dreams, praise kink, deception, etc!

Word Count: 15k+ with the prologue, 12k without.

Prologue (A/N: only read this if you have not read the blurb, if you’ve already read the blurb you can scroll down to where part one “The Ruse” starts)

Y/N hated Harry.

Actually, she wasn’t quite sure the loathing could run quite as deep as it did. It was almost as if when her eyes locked with his, or she got a whiff of his cologne in the corridor, the hatred would flow through her veins and act as a power source. As if the only fuel she needed was how much she absolutely and utterly loathed that man.

So when her handmaid had told her summertime was officially in action, and she knew what summertime brought, Y/N wanted to stomp her foot like a child and throw herself onto the floor.

Summer was supposed to be excellent, filled with fruits and sunny skies. It was supposed to be warm and lovely, but when Y/N’s parents invite Harry and his family to the palace every summer, it’s hard to find enjoyment in the season.

He was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, and Y/N wasn’t one to deny it. Green mosaic eyes, captivating and alluring like a siren sat atop a rock luring sailors in with that beautiful voice. Only instead of using his rhythmic voice to lure her in, he used the gaze of his eyes. Soft features and delicate sculpting to his face that were so perfect it was absolutely infuriating. He was perfect, truly, in every way possible and the people loved his beautiful face and charming personality.

Except when the large wooden doors shut, leaving Y/N and Harry alone (which wasn’t supposed to happen per Y/N’s request, by the way), his mouth was foul and his charming qualities were consigned to oblivion. Around Y/N, Harry was his worst version of himself and Y/N could not stand him.

“I don’t want him to come this year, Dorothea!” Y/N exclaimed to her chambermaid as her heels clicked against the large tile pieces. She was pacing back and forth, a nervous tick she’s had since she was little.

Sweat accumulated in the pits of her palms, a telling sign that she was nervous, though she would never say that to Dorothea or let it be known to Harry because he would never let her live it down.

See, Y/N and Harry were similar in two ways. One, they were both heir to a royal bloodline. And two, they were both so, so stubborn.

“I know, dear.” Dorothea, the sweetest old lady the palace could find, spent most of her day assisting Y/N in her needs even though there weren’t very many of those. Y/N was relatively low maintenance and hated to be waited on, “It’s only three months.”

With that sentiment, Y/N sat on the edge of her bed that was just made and fluffed, deciding she would spend her day sulking in her room rather than participating in any of the start of summer festivities. As if Dorothea could tell Y/N just wanted to be left alone, she quietly made her way out of the room, and left Y/N to her own devices.

____

Maybe dreams do come true, because the summer season had officially been in swing for three days and there were no sights of Harry, or his family, lingering around the palace. Eventually, she thought she would turn the corner and catch him chatting up a chambermaid with a devilish smile and eyes that would turn a girl into a puddle of melted candy, but it had been three days and even the girls she passed (who were anticipating him heavily) were whispering about the prince being late.

By the fifth day, Y/N was beginning to feel the weight lift off her chest and the ease flood through her veins. Though she didn’t dare to ask her parents about Prince Harry’s whereabouts because that would come with an agonizingly painful interrogation (they truly believed their daughter would wed the man), and a small reprimand because of her prior years sour behavior toward him, though they didn’t know just how insufferable he was in return.

Small talk whisked throughout the palace by the seventh day, explaining that Prince Harry would not be attending this summer season because he was to be married by the end of the year to a princess Y/N had never heard of. A small twitch shot through her chest, but she brushed it off feigning it as relief she never had to deal with him again. While Y/N acted oblivious, everyone knew the reason Harry and his family visited the palace every summer is because the families were hoping for an alliance of sorts— for Harry and Y/N to form a union, to form a bond that would end in marriage. As much as she chalked the twitch in her chest and the hollow in her belly as a feeling of relief, she was confused as to why she wished he would have written. Not necessarily her, but at least to her parents, informing that he would not be there this summer (or any summer for that matter because he was getting married) that way she didn’t have to walk around for days on end, thinking there would be a jumpscare in the corridor or the dining hall.

A flicker of annoyance lit inside of her, an emotion she was familiar with and actually grateful for at the moment because it took away from the abnormal sensation in the chest and abdomen. Why wouldn’t he write? Or his parents at the very least? What kind of person does that? Y/N knew just how hard the chambermaids, the scullery kitchen, and the people who made the palace function as well as it did were working to ensure their guests were accommodated and comfortable for the three months they were staying with them.

It was very unlike Y/N, usually very polite and soft-spoken to feel that kind of irritation. The kind that was so pent up it was making her breathing slightly erratic and she was puffing breaths in and out through her nose. In a very un-Y/N like fashion, she decided that if Prince Harry wasn’t going to write to her, then she was going to write to him and tell him how distasteful his lack of presence or notification on the betrothal was.

Before she could even process what she was doing, she was in the main library of the palace, sitting at the writing table and crafting a heartfelt message to her dear friend Prince Harry, slightly berating him in each line for his so-called prince ethics (or lack-there-of).

Dear Prince Harry,

I am sitting here, writing to tell you how distasteful I find your lack of arrival. It is great news within our palace that you are to be married, which in turn, delays your arrival to our annual summer festivities, and possibly inhibits you from attending these festivities ever again.

A true prince, knowing royal ethics, would have written far in advance, revoking his acceptance to my family’s invitation. It seems that, as always, you are too engrossed in your own endeavors to care about the people around you who have taken the time to prepare for your arrival.

I know our royal household has been working gravely to make certain you and your family have a wonderful stay over the summer, as they have done every summer for the past two years—

“I knew I would find you in here,” his voice, clear and steady, echoed through the library bouncing off the walls and the leather bindings of the books which sat on the shelves of the wall, “You’re always in here doing something or another.”

She knew who it was by the sound of his voice, deep and sultry. He always spoke with such precision and so bluntly that even with her eyes closed, she could tell who it was just by the energy that filled the space. Arrogance and tempting were his two most significant qualities and they always filled the room, leaving her to suffocate in his presence.

Quickly, she jumped up and grabbed the letter, crumpling it in her hands. The ink was so fresh it smeared all over her hands with her rush, and when she looked to see him standing under the doorway, she noted that not a thing about him had changed. He stood with that same arrogance in his posture, his eyes were still that deepsea green, and his lips, chin, and jaw were as beautiful (if not more) as the last time she saw him.

Quirking his eyebrows, he couldn’t help himself. “Now I need to know what was in that letter you were writing. Are you in love, my dear Y/N.”

He took a step forward, and she realized he thought she would just hand the letter over to him, like it was his property to be read. And even though it technically was, the letter was now void because he did, in fact, show up for the summer season. While it may have been intended for him, the content of the letter did not matter, and because he expected her to walk over and drop the letter in the palm of his hand, that absolutely infuriated her.

“I will not give this to you,” Y/N shook her head and furrowed her eyebrows. She almost cringed at the tone of her voice, so abrasive and calloused. Harry brought out the worst in her, he really did. Though, she didn’t understand how Harry could make this frustration brew inside of her when the rest of the Styles were so lovely to be around.

In two long strides, Harry was rounding the writing desk and in front of her. He towered over her, reaching for the crumpled letter in her hands and before she could grasp the paper tighter, it slipped beneath her fingertips and he was reading it aloud.

“I thought you said this wasn’t for me, Princess?” Harry wasn’t asking, it was more rhetorical than anything. The mock in his tone sent a heat through her, plummeting up from where her heart dropped in her stomach to the apples of her cheeks.

He held the letter above the both of them, the words still readable even though the ink was smeared on the page. As he read aloud, Y/N wanted to drop to the floor and cover her ears from listening to speak her foolish words out loud. If anything, the letter was an act of catharsis. She probably would have never actually sent it to Harry, even if she said she was going to, but writing the words on the paper and pretending like she was going to send it to him was semi-therapeutic. By the second line, she was jumping in the air like a fish out of water, trying to grasp the letter from his hands so he couldn’t continue. To make matters worse, he was chuckling between words and flashing wide grins in her direction when he paused.

Eventually, the way she was jumping and frantically trying to snatch the letter from him was just as humiliating as the strong words she had put on that piece of paper he held in his hands, so she stopped and turned away from him so that he could not see the look of horror on her face as he finished reading the letter.

Finally, he got to the part where he walked in and startled her from her writing desk, her thoughts coming to an abrupt halt on the paper when his voice echoed throughout the room, and even though he was done reading the letter, she couldn’t bear to look at him. If there was one thing about Harry, he always had the upper hand with her. Always.

“I wish I hadn’t interrupted your thoughts when I came in here a few moments ago. I’m positive the rest of this letter would have been a great read, and you print your thoughts so eloquently, Y/N.” He was trying to get under her skin, even though he knew he had already burrowed himself under the flesh like a mite the second he walked in the room. That was another one of Harry’s traits— he wanted to see just how much he could push her until she snapped, because he loved watching her snap.

“Enough,” she spoke, barely turning to look at him. She caught a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye, enough for her to squint just barely and for him to know she was giving him a dirty look.

“Well, Y/N, clearly this letter was for me. Was it not?” He was doing it; pushing and pressing until the temper within her flicked on a light and her thoughts rifling through her brain started spewing like fire, the world around them turning to ash with each word that fell from her lips and targeted him like a huntsman and its prey.

“It wasn’t for you—” She began, getting cut off by the prince.

“It clearly says ‘Dear Prince Harry, I am sitting here, writing to y—”

Within under a second, she was turning on her heels to face him once more and trying to pry the letter from his fingers. To no avail, she didn’t think she could handle him reading the letter out loud once more, so she covered her ears and began begging him to stop. The worst part was the feeling she had in her gut, the feeling one gets in their gut and their throat before the tears start forming in their eyes. While Harry had many horrid qualities about him, one of her terrible qualities were tears that formed, not out of sadness, but out of anger. Deeply, she inhaled to smooth out her thoughts and quiet her mind. “Stop, stop, stop.”

Grinning like the devil, he spoke slowly and quietly so any chambermaids passing by could not hear the words he was about to speak to her, “Are you embarrassed, Princess? The girl everyone thinks is so ladylike and polite writing words that would tarnish that sweet reputation.”

“I was never going to send it, and I think you know that,” she countered, and even though she knew he knew that letter was never going to leave her possession, she felt like she needed to reiterate that point.

Carefully and slowly—almost painfully slowly— he brought his finger to her cheeks and swiped across to feel the heat radiating off of her skin and she knew he was gaining even more satisfaction at the heat in her cheeks confirming his question, that she was embarrassed by him finding her letter. To rub salt in the wound, he folded the letter up and stuffed it in the pit of his pocket where she would not dare to fish out, as it was not very polite to stick your hand in someone else’s pocket, “For safekeeping,” he stated.

Those two words made her want to do it— stick her hand in his pocket and fish the letter out, tear it in little tiny pieces, and then stomp on the shreds of paper right in front of him, but she wouldn’t do it because she, unlike him, did not lack manners.

“You are absolutely unbearable, Prince. Do not think my opinion on you has changed. I can assure you it has not,” she wanted to get under his skin the way he got under hers, so she added, “Where is your betrothed?”

He paused for a moment, searching for the words, “I am not to be married, Y/N.”

The tone was cut and brief, not the same tone he had when she was pushing his buttons, but a clear line was drawn showing her this is where the boundary was placed, and as much as she wanted to upset him the way he upset her, Y/N did not want to pick and pry about his presumably failed engagement. Though, she did not blame the girl for not wanting to marry someone with such an insufferable attitude. And maybe, just maybe, she also didn’t want to hear about the girl. She didn’t want Harry to talk about how beautiful she was, or what her hobbies were. She didn’t want to know a thing about her or how she wormed her way into the heart of someone so aloof and out of touch with the idea of love. To put it plainly, she didn’t want to hear about their courtship and what he did to make her swoon.

Y/N would never admit it, but the first time she ever met Harry, she was taken with him. And then he opened his mouth, all-knowing and witty bordering intolerable.

“Well, then,” Y/N didn’t quite know what to say in response, seeming to be more uncomfortable with the idea of him getting married than he was.

With a mere couple inches between them, he leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Soft lips grazed the tops of her ears, a warm heat shooting through her, and though she was disgusted with herself for having such an instinctual reaction to his body and his lips so close to her skin, she was graceful enough to remind herself that it was only natural for her core to stir and her stomach to flip.

And when he finally spoke, his lips moved against her ear, “I am going to enjoy playing with you this summer, Y/N.”

She wanted to scream. She almost did.

Instead she took a step back, gasping and brushing out the wrinkles in her dress, “I absolutely loathe you.”

“I love that you loathe me,” he replied before turning on his heels and walking out of the library.

Y/N knew it was going to be a long summer filled with taunts from Harry.

And much to her dismay, that night she dreamed about his lips pressing against her.

I. The Ruse

Y/N had told Dorothea she was feeling too ill to attend the breakfast table that morning. Albeit, the truth of the matter was that she was shaken by her dreams poisoned by Harry— maybe they were good dreams about his lips, his fingers, the way he caressed her cheek, but the fact that it was Harry doing those things to her was enough to deduce it was a nightmare. A terrible, terrible nightmare.

“Should I fetch you some tea?” Dorothea pressed her hand to Y/N’s forehead, feeling for a fever, but when the skin under her hands was cool rather than clammy, Dorothea raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

“No, no,” Y/N swung the covers over her, revealing her nightgown. Stiffly, she planted her feet on the wooden planks beneath the bed as she made a show of stretching, “Don’t fuss over me. I’m already feeling much better, Dorothea.”

“Better enough to attend breakfast?” Dorothea questioned her, the brow still raised in suspicion, and Y/N knows she should just tell Dorothea the truth but it was her stubborn nature that prevented her from letting Dorothea know about her encounter with the Prince yesterday.

“I believe it’s late anyway,” Y/N reasoned, “I will fetch something when the dining hall has been cleared out.”

Dorothea only shook her head in disappointment, but Y/N pretended not to notice.

______________

In an effort to maintain his dignity, Harry had to stop looking at the chestnut oak double doors separating the dining hall from the rest of the castle. Each time a servant opened the door to replenish something on the table, Harry’s head snapped over, hoping it would be Y/N that walked through the doors just so he could see her again.

It was agonizing, honestly. She was sweeter than droplets of nectar. Bees were probably drawn to her, knowing her personality was as sweet as the honey they produced, attracting to her like the pollen they longed to search for.

That, precisely, is why she aggravated Harry so much. From the time Harry was born, it was engraved in his brain that he was a ruler; he was honorable, decisive, and empathetic. All the qualities that made up a leader, and he knew it, too. Though, he was self-aware enough to know where he was lacking, and he was lacking (probably) the most important quality a leader can have—compassion and the ability to connect.

For Y/N, that was something that came so naturally. She could connect with just about anyone. The princess blended in with the common folk so... Seamlessly, it was absolutely infuriating. Harry had tried, plenty of times, to blend in, to connect with his people and his royal household but he could never achieve it the way Y/N did. She was a real princess, and it made him feel like a fraud.

Years had passed with him learning about how to rule, the best way, the honorable way. For Y/N, it seemed that she was born with the knowledge, never having to lift a finger or read a book.

So it pleased him, angering her to the point of outbursts. In her court, she was polite, loved, and deemed the absolute most charismatic one can be. When she was just about shaking with rage, foul words dripping from her lips, that is when Harry was content— when she looked less like a statue, the perfect creation this court has formed her to be, and more like a human. More like him.

That is when the irritation he felt toward her stopped festering, just for a moment in time.

And he knew he was absolutely terrible for it, absolutely atrocious, but he wanted to corrupt her. Ruin the molding she was fit into.

Sounds of fingers fiddling on the doorknob caused him to look up, and when a servant walked in with another tray of warm bread and fresh butter, his eyes averted to his plate to avoid the teasing that was about to come from the King’s Hand— or well, Prince’s Hand, really, since he wouldn’t truly be the King’s Hand until Harry’s coronation.

But he was too late, and the words were already coming out of Niall’s mouth, “If you’re going to keep glancing up every time someone walks in, wishing her to walk through those doors, then why don’t you just go seek her out?”

“I don’t wish for her to walk through those doors, Niall,” Harry’s jaw tensed as he spoke, the inclination that he was waiting for her making him somewhat irate, “I am merely observing, isn’t that important? To be aware of one’s surroundings?”

“Yes,” Niall sucked in his teeth, moving his gaze from the angle of Harry’s jaw back to his plate of food, “Indeed it is.”

Harry spread butter on a fresh piece of bread, ignoring Niall’s comment, and when Niall realized Harry wasn’t going to say anything else, he continued to poke the bear. “Why didn’t you marry Duchess Violet when you had the opportunity? Why push the wedding? So you could come here? See her?”

A hiss left Harry’s mouth before answering in a hushed voice, low enough that the people around them could not hear. “Why so many questions, Niall?”

“I’m trying to understand,” he shrugged his shoulders, the level of his voice now matching Harry’s.

“I pushed the wedding because I did not want to marry the Duchess, Niall. Simple as that. I came here because my parents are convinced that Princess Y/N and I will form an attachment if I spend enough time with her. That is what they want after all.”

“Then what?” Niall’s questioning was causing sweat to bead on Harry’s forehead. He didn’t want to think of the then what factor.

“I suppose when I return home, the arrangement between the Duchess and I will initiate once more.” Harry cocked his head over to Niall, dropping the piece of bread on his plate. Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry anymore.

“What is your game here this summer, Prince?” Niall asked, locking eyes with Harry’s whose eyes were the same pigment as a field of green clovers populating in the crisp months of Spring, mischief dancing in his irises.

Slowly and carefully he gave Niall the essence of his plan, “I will convince the Princess to form an alliance with me— A facade, if you will. We will put on a show, and before our attachment is sealed with a ring, she will say she can no longer do it. And I will be so heartbroken, to the nation’s knowledge, that they will not pester me about marrying. I do not need to marry. I will not need to marry.”

“And will you be heartbroken, Prince?” This seemed to be Niall’s only concern.

“No,” Harry paused and then added on, “I do not believe so.”

“And what if she does not agree to a facade?”

“Then I will charm her. Seduce her.” This was all Harry was willing to say on the matter as he pushed his chair up.

______________

Y/N, to her credit, was full of secrets.

Every now and again, she would poke her head out, scan the corridor, then jump back into her bedchamber when she heard the sound of heels clicking against the flooring.

And she’s never felt quite so childish before. Usually, when Harry came for the summer, Y/N didn’t go out of her way to avoid him, but after their interaction in the study she didn’t think she was ready to face him yet.

If Y/N was honest with herself, two years ago when she first met the prince, she was quite smitten. And maybe it was the fact that he was engaged to someone else. .. Someone Y/N didn’t know. Maybe it was the fact that he didn’t bother to tell her, or write to her family that got her so worked up. Maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that someone wormed their way into his icy chest and planted a seed of fire that caused him to want them.

She had trouble admitting it to herself, but she fancied Harry more than she let on. The only person in the entire castle that knew just how deep her feelings for Harry ran was Dorothea, though the words had never left Y/N’s lips and they might not ever.

Rage has simmered in her gut, boiling over into her fingertips that flowed against the page where she etched words onto a canvas that conveyed her grievances with Harry. The memory of her sitting there, rage-writing a letter she never intended to send, and Harry snatching it out of her hands and reading aloud sent a churn in her stomach, the humiliation of the moment festering inside her once more.

The true reason she had been avoiding him, at last. She was utterly embarrassed by the entire ordeal. All he had to do was read in between the lines, and all of her feelings were on display. Harry having that letter was a different kind of vulnerability.

So she snuck out to the stables, where her good friend Brad worked as the stable boy. Y/N and Brad shared a secret the people did not know, it was kept between the two of them, and she liked Brad for the fact he has known her secret for about four years and has not told a soul has made her like them all the more.

Boots trudged in the muddy grass as she made her way out to the stables, where Brad tended to her horses (and the other horses, of course). Birds cooed in the sky, the sing-song noises filling her ears and putting her at peace for the first time since yesterday.

When she had finally made it to the big barn, nearly a quarter mile away from the actual castle, Brad was nowhere to be seen. Quietly, she lurked around, craning her head around corners and scouting him out.

Right as she was about to call out his name, because it was very unlikely for him to not be here, she rounded one more corner and saw him nestled next to the Prince— next to Harry.

She almost audibly groaned when she saw him standing there, invading her space. Where she liked to go to clear her head, but before a noise could escape her lips, she realized if she slowly backed out of the hall then she might escape the pair before either of them saw her.

As she slowly tried to back out of the hall encompassed by horse stables, the two rather close together, both snapped their heads in her direction. Two sets of eyes locked with hers, her mouth watering as her stomach turns nervously when Harry’s green gaze of disapproval scans her up and down.

“Y/N?” Brad asked, projecting his tone down the length of the hall so she could hear him clearly, “What are you doing all the way down there?”

“Nothing!” Her tone projected as well, matching Brad’s. “I was thinking I could see Freya, but I see you’re busy.”

“Why don’t you come closer, Princess? So we don’t have to shout too loud.” Harry said, and Y/N knew the look upon his face. Whenever he was about to do something devious, a smirk would spread across his lips, his eyes sparkling with the game he was about to partake in.

And Y/N doesn’t know why she listened to him, why she didn’t just turn away, but before she could tell herself to stop, she was walking toward the both of them. Each step felt shameful, her eyes averting from Harry’s and to Brad. She couldn’t stand the way Harry looked at her, like she was a toy, like he could burn holes through her soul if he really wanted to.

She shifted her body to angle more toward Brad, not completely cutting Harry out of the circle they were now standing in, but angling herself enough to show that her body language was more open to Brad than she was to Harry.

“Isn’t this one Freya?” Harry pointed to the stall directly across from them. There stood her light gray horse, mane and tail braided perfectly.

Actually, if someone saw Y/N and Freya standing side by side, they would simply know Freya was meant for Y/N by the way she holds herself; strong, with a gentle demeanor radiating off her. The only problem is that people would never see Freya and Y/N side by side, because Y/N (as much as she loved Freya) was too afraid to take her out of her stall. In Y/N’s kingdom, it was inevitable that every young prince or princess had to ride, because at their coronation one of the requirements was to ride in on their horse. The issue wasn’t that Y/N didn’t know how to ride. She did. The issue was that Y/N wouldn’t because of an accident that happened three years ago, leaving Y/N scared to ever get on the back of a horse, or to even walk around with her lead rope in hand. Nobody knew, except Brad, that Y/N hadn’t been on the back of her horse since the accident, it was a secret the two of them kept together.

“Yes,” Y/N turned to him, just slightly, “That is her.”

“Go on, then,” Harry motioned toward her, “We don’t mind if you take her out.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped, glancing at Brad to see if he could help her worm her way out of this situation. He has helped her before, when her parents would find her in the stable and ask if she wanted to go on a ride with them. Brad would say something like, Princess Y/N just put Freya back, they went on a lengthy ride earlier and Freya is resting now. It made Y/N feel selfish to know how much trouble Brad could get in for lying, but she was too much of a coward to tell anyone her fears.

Brad interjected, just not with what she hoped for, “Y/N doesn’t ride.”

Confusion contorted Y/N’s features as he outed her secret to the one person she didn’t want to know an inkling about her. “Brad!”

Brad’s eyes widened slightly, his brows raising as he replied, “I’m sorry, Y/N! I thought it was okay for him to know? It’s not as if he lives in the palace.”

Harry stepped closer, putting a pin in the conversation Brad and Y/N were beginning to have right in front of him, “Why doesn’t she ride?”

Brad waited, momentarily, for Y/N to respond but when her lips stayed sealed, withholding the information from Harry he decided to come clean for her. “Y/N has panic attacks when she gets too close to horses. Nobody knows.”

At least he didn’t tell Harry why horses made her panic.

“Yet you come out here anyway?”

Heedfully, she took in a deep breath and began to collect her thoughts which seemed to be swimming everywhere. These past two days, she had never felt so exposed, so bare in front of him. First with the letter, and now with Brad’s indiscretion to Y/N’s secret. “As you may already know, horse riding is big in our culture, so I come out here to keep up appearances. And, I do love my Freya.”

“You’re a fraud, then? A liar?” Harry sucked in a breath, that grin teetering on amusement— a fine line between pure and utter cruelty.

“If that’s what you will call it,” Y/N tried not to let the emotions welling inside show on her face, remaining neutral and stoic was the best way to ignore Harry. She, too, could sink her claws in him and tear him apart by simply ignoring him. “I must be going.”

Swiftly, she turned, paying no mind to Freya and blocking out the snickering coming from Harry as she walked out of the barn. Her boots trudged in the mud once more, and the frustration brewing inside was threatening to spill over, though she would not allow it to until she was alone in the privacy of her own room.

The palace was in plain sight, she only needed to walk a straight narrow path before she could take a side door to the main corridor and scurry off to her room (hopefully avoiding many of the household staff on the way). It was unfair, but she wanted to yell at Brad for offering Harry such private information. Should she blame him, though? He’s been keeping her secret for nearly three years, lying for her, and obviously he didn’t know that Harry had brutish tendencies— especially when it came to her. In fact, she thought back to it. The way the two of them were standing, how Harry was shifting closer to Brad with each word. If Y/N didn’t know better, Harry was trying to turn Brad into putty in his hands which honestly might have been more of an issue than him knowing her secret panic attacks she would have in the privacy of Freya’s stall. Was Harry interested in Brad, trying to charm him with his good looks and that personality that oozed sweetness? Y/N may have never seen that side of him, but amongst the chambermaids he was quite the sweet-talker.

“Y/N,” a low, gruff voice called from behind her. When she tried to pick up the pace, she only heard the shuffling of Harry’s boots behind her go faster.

It wasn’t like she would be able to escape him, if he truly wanted to pester her he would find her in her bedchamber. It was better to have a discussion with him out in the open instead of him tainting her bedchamber with his attitude.

“What?” She turned on her heels and snapped her head toward him, the tone of her voice laced with anger.

“I wanted to have a discussion with you,” he took a few steps closer so they were only an arms distance from each other. He wanted his next words to be just barely above a whisper.

“Then speak,” Y/N pursed her lips together, crossing her arms so that she could shield herself against him in some way. Clearly, crossing her arms wasn’t actually going to protect her from him, but in a way, it felt like a mental shield, keeping him out of her head and far away.

“It has been two days of me gracing you with my company, and within those two days, I have obtained a letter I’m convinced you would not like to fall into the wrong hands, and I have discovered you have been deceiving many people and getting the stable boy to lie for you,” Harry’s pointer finger traced under her chin, noting the shiver that ran down her back as she stepped away from his touch, “Now, if you do not want that letter circulating throughout the palace, and if you do not want everyone to know you are a fraud, then you will offer me something I need.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Harry was blackmailing her? She had always taken him for possessing a certain cruelty about him, but never thought he would stoop low to the point where blackmail (quite literally when she takes the letter into consideration) would be hanging over her head like a bundle of mistletoe.

“What is wrong with you?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stepping backward as her arms tightened around herself once more.

“What is your answer, Y/N?” He spoke with such an airy indifference that she almost couldn’t tell if he was playing a very humorless joke on her.

“I don’t believe I have much of a choice in the matter!” She barked back, and that flicker of anger displayed on her face and in her tone of voice made his lips curve up into a cursed smile, so she tried to cool herself down and remain stoic— just as unbothered as he seemed to be.

“I am giving you a choice, darling,” Harry said, the word rolling off his tongue like the pet name was second nature to him, “One option is unfavorable, though. For you, at the very least.”

It was written across his face; either answer she gave him was a win for him. This was a situation where she was going to lose, a situation where the upper hand was in his court and he was playing the game with no mercy. If she said yes, she was indebted to him, owing him a favor. And if she said no, the shame of her actions would not only reflect on her, but her family as well.

“Tell me what you need,” an exasperated sigh she didn’t mean to let out, falling from her lips.

“Agree first.” Harry was a politician first, a prince second, and a human being last.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, “Do you believe I haven’t learned to never agree to something binding without knowing the stipulations first, Prince?”

“And do you think I would present my vulnerabilities to you without an answer first? I tell you, you don’t agree with the clause, and now you know what I need. Why should I do that?” His reasoning was valid to her, though she would never admit to it.

“Then my answer is no,” Y/N began turning on her heels to walk away; get as far away as she possibly could, but she stopped in her tracks when he caught up behind her, hooking his fingers around her waist and pressing his front against her back.

Incredibly cool and collected, he pressed his lips against her ears before he spoke, causing a chill to rip down her spine and a tightening coil in the pit of her stomach. “You’ve made your choice, then. Tonight in the dining hall, while we are in the middle of dinner with the most important people, I will stand and tell everyone of your fraudulent activities. In fact, I might even embellish it— explain how you’ve been keeping the stable boy so quiet with your mouth. Do you know what that means, princess? I will tell them how you’ve squandered his innocence, and when the shame is rising from here,” Harry’s fingers trailed from her hip to her stomach, and then all the way up to the apple of her cheeks, “To here… That is when I will twist the knife, and begin reading your finest letter aloud. And when you are crying, I will not stop.”

Y/N turned back around, stepping away from him to get distance before spitting out, “You are cruel, Harry. So, very, cruel.”

“You are flattering me,” he quirked an eyebrow, and she so badly wanted to connect her fist to that stupid smirk on his face.

“Fine,” Y/N nodded her head, refusing to give him any more leverage, “I will help you.”

“Great, then I will court you for the entire summer, and just before it is time for me to propose to you… You will come up with some excuse to break it off, and I will pretend I am utterly heartbroken and need time to heal.”

Y/N was shocked his ruse was not nearly as bad as she had expected it to be. She thought maybe he would be requesting her to break into the general’s office and steal classified military documents, or something absolutely absurd and dangerous. But a courtship under false pretenses was… Dishonorable, but not a crime.

“That’s it?” She shrugged her shoulders. “Why?”

“Because,” he was beginning to feel frustrated, and Y/N could tell by the way he pinched the bridge of his nose in between his fingers. “I do not want to marry the Dutchess, and I fear if I do not place a ring on your finger, that is my destiny. However, if you end our courtship and I feign heartbreak, how could anyone tell me I need to marry when I lost the love of my life.” He rolled his eyes as he spoke the words.

“And—” Y/N began to ask another question before Harry interrupted her.

“That is all the information I will give you on the topic.”

“Fine,” she, herself, was done with the conversation anyway. There were much better things for her to do than scheme with Harry, “Now if you would leave me be, I would like some space from you.”

“Take what you need, because after dinner we will be attached at the hip once we announce our courtship.”

This might be the death of Y/N.

______________

Pretending to be under the weather was not going to cut it this evening, Y/N knew she couldn’t get out of another meal with her family, Harry’s, and the other important people that made it to the dining hall list without a stern talking to from Dorothea.

On top of that, she knew that Harry was going to announce their courtship, and he probably wouldn’t be too keen on the idea of announcing it without her there. Actually, she wasn’t too keen on the idea, either. Who knows what he would say?

With thoughts racing through her head, and the click of her ballet flats on the mosaic tile, she made her way down the corridor until she was standing just outside of the tall oak doors. As soon as they opened, she would find her seat, and her fate for the summer would be sealed.

“Looking nervous, darling.” Harry spoke from behind her, creeping up on her for the third time since he’s been here. Rolling her eyes was beginning to become a natural reaction at this point.

“Don’t call me that,” Y/N hissed out, barely taking her eyes from the door as he walked up behind her so he was nearly touching her backside as his fingers reached for the knob and turned it slowly.

It was quiet when her eyes locked with her mother and father’s eyes, and when she slid her gaze over to Harry’s parents, she couldn’t help but feel shame that ticked in her lower stomach. It was one thing to be deceptive to her own parents; it was another to be deceptive to someone else’s. This was definitely something she was going to bring up to Harry later.

Dorothea was sitting beside Y/N’s mother, and when she noticed her, Dorothea offered an approving smile and a small glance toward Harry’s direction. On multiple occasions, Dorothea had tried to convince Y/N that Harry was not that horrible as she knew him since he was a young boy, but Y/N would gawk and scoff and exclaim with exasperation: Why are you taking his side? Now, Dorothea had believed Harry finally charmed Y/N just enough to weasel his way into her heart, but little did Dorothea know, it was quite the opposite.

Dinner was going by smoothly. Every now and again, Harry would make some small talk with Y/N, and as soon as the pair began speaking softly under their breath, the entire table would stop talking to hear what the two of them were conversing about. It was making Y/N rather anxious to have so much attention thrown in her general direction, but she supposed if she were in their shoes, she would be just as curious.

Before the meal came to a close, Harry tapped a shiny piece of silverware against his glass, gaining everyone’s attention. Though, Y/N wanted to tell him if he wanted all eyes on him, all he would have to do is look at her, whisper her name, and the chattering amongst the table would cease so everyone could hone in on their private conversation. “Everyone, I wanted to announce mine and precious Y/N’s courtships. After two long summers of denying our tension amongst one another, we decided it was in everyone’s best interest if we gave our compatibility a shot.”

A couple people clapped, and Y/N tried so hard to repress the eyeroll and the scoff that wanted to surface so badly. Dorothea shot a wink in her direction, so Y/N offered a small smile because a grimace would lead to questioning from her later, and lying to Dorothea was not something she felt too good about. Y/N had already deceived her once today by feigning illness, and twice with Harry’s speech of their courtship, but she did not want to have a separate conversation with Dorothea that contained the weight of her lies.

As soon as dinner ended, Y/N found herself rushing from the dining hall, nausea filling her gut as bile threatened to creep up her throat. In a few turns, she was down the corridor, and finally, she was on the terrace, breathing in the crisp night air. Stars illuminated the sky, the moon brightening the path she was walking down, and she should have known better to think she would get just one moment alone (or one moment where Harry was not creeping up behind her).

“Y/N, I want to talk,” Harry whispered, although the words may have been hushed, but they were on the louder side like a… Hushed shout?

“I’m not sure I would like to talk right now,” Y/N replied back, kicking scattered rocks out of the path they were taking that led to the gardens on the right side of the palace.

“I promise I will leave you alone for the night after this,” Harry sounded sincere, “I just want to work out the logistics with you.”

“The logistics with me?” Y/N scoffed, pivoting on her heels and throwing her hands up in exasperation. The tone of her voice was laced with venom, and the scrunch of her nose which led all the way up to her eyebrows, giving her the look of an angry kitten was enough to tell Harry she was quite upset with the ordeal, “You mean, you would like to speak of your deception?”

Harry visibly clenched his jaw, but that didn’t stop Y/N from going on, “You want to speak of your deception and your dishonor?”

“Is blackmail honorable, Prince?” Y/N seethed.

“Is fucking the stable boy honorable, Princess?” Harry didn’t know if this was actually factual, it was only the assumption he made as to why the stable boy would lie for Y/N for so long.

Y/N stuttered over her words, “I-I’m not!”

“Maybe you’re not,” he looked her up and down, the sinister glare in his eyes making her want to recoil into herself, “But you want to.”

Y/N did not deny her attraction to the stable boy, though, she had never fantasized of him in such salacious ways, and that little flicker of emotion that ran across her features was something Harry picked up on immediately.

“Would it break your little heart, Princess?” Harry took a step closer, the vein on his neck popping out as he clenched his jaw harder, “If I let your stable boy lay in my bed?”

Y/N gasped. She had never heard someone be so… Vulgar.

The response she was looking for swam through her head but she couldn’t quite locate it as she filed through the crevices of her brain. How could she answer that? To her luck, Harry was on his heels and walking toward the direction of the stables so she didn’t have to respond to him. He muttered out the grumpiest, “I’ll find you later,” and Y/N’s heart sank as she realized Harry was trying to find Brad to either bed him, or tell Brad about her embarrassing little crush. Y/N had never felt so exposed in her own territory.

______________

“This is never going to work, Niall!” Harry exclaimed, kicking off his riding boots and pacing his way back and forth in Niall’s personal cabin. Niall was the Prince’s Hand, his second in command, but he needed his space. When they would come for the summer, Niall would occupy the cottage on the outskirts of the palace, the only way to get there was by horseback, which is part of the reason he felt so comfortable being open with Niall. There was no possible way the princess would be strolling down the corridor and overhear him chatting with Niall when they were so far away, and the only way she could get there was by horseback, which he knew she wouldn’t do.

“What do you mean?” Niall looked over at him, pouring a glass of sparkling wine that was located on the bar top near the kitchenette. Harry noted that Niall was pouring two glasses, one for Harry and one for himself.

“She’s too stubborn.” Harry sighed out, taking the glass from Niall as he reached his hand out, then plummeted into one of the cushion filled chairs in the corner of the room. “She won’t be able to go through with it.”

“And you have leverage over her, do you not? I thought that was why you were so sure of your plan?” Niall pressed the frosted glass to his lips, then tipped his head back.

Harry followed suit, tipping his head back after pressing the cool glass to his lip. The slight carbonation of the alcohol, and the burn of the alcohol itself singed the back of his throat before he shook his head and shut his eyes tightly. “I do have leverage as I told you about. I fear if she backs out, I would never be able to put her through that, though.”

“It was my understanding that you didn’t care and you do not like her. If that is the case, then what is the issue, Prince?” Niall questioned.

“I do not care about her and I do not like her, but what would it say about me if I grasped that leverage and exposed her so openly like that…” Harry’s voice trailed off as he brought the glass back to his lips once more.

“So you do not care about her, and you do not like her, but you care about what others would think if you humiliated her so publicly?” Niall was beginning to understand.

“Exactly,” Harry agreed.

Niall didn’t like giving Harry advice like this, but he was loyal to Harry first and always. When he began fitting the puzzle pieces together of the dynamic between Harry and Y/N, before he could even process his own thought process he blurted, “If you think she is too stubborn, then change that. Have you thought that maybe the reason she is so stubborn around you is because of the fact you are so mean to her. Stop being so cruel. Be a gentleman, make her like you. Hell, make her even love you, and at the end of the summer, if you still do not believe you are the type of man to marry, then begin corresponding with the Duchess again, forcing Y/N to break it off with you. You told her it was all a ruse, then so be it. However, that does not mean you have to make her life a living hell. You can charm her, make her fall for you, and when you invite the Duchess to the ball at the end of the summer, Y/N will have no other choice than to call it off.”

Harry paused, sitting upright in the chair rather than slouching over, “So you are saying to charm her still, even though she’s already agreed to the facade with me?”

“Precisely,” Niall pushed the guilty feeling down.

“And at the end of the summer when I want her to call it off, let her find me entangled with Duchess Violet?” Harry was the one asking questions now.

“Yes,” Niall let out a small breath.

“Smart man,” was all Harry said, and that was the end of the conversation as Harry slipped his boots on, bolted out the door, mounted his horse, and rode back to the main palace so he could talk to Y/N.

______________

Y/N was still in the garden, ruminating over the argument she just had with Harry. How could someone be so handsome, resembling a person who was probably carved by the most delicate angels themselves, have such a crude mouth and an evil demeanor? If Harry was a little bit nicer, she thinks he would be the easiest person to fall in love with.

“Y/N?” Harry whispered, and when she turned around to look at him, he noted the way the light from the moon reflected off the top of his curly brown hair, where it hit the highs of his cheekbones, and she noted the delicacy in his sea moss green eyes.

“I’m too exhausted to argue, Prince.” She remained grounded, her feet planted into the soil. Her cheeks were still wet from the tears spilled over after Harry left her feeling silly, and even though the streaks remained on her cheeks, there were no more droplets forming in her eyes.

He stepped closer, so close that his body was almost pressed against the front of hers. She noted the way his hand lingered by her hip, wanting badly to close the gap between them by positioning his hand behind her and pulling her close. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” She was strong, she was going to be tough.

“I feel terrible, Y/N,” the sincerity in his eyes was enough to send a ripple of shock through her. Honestly, the sincerity he felt was enough to send a ripple of shock through him. It was true, he did feel terrible. He never meant to make her cry.

“It’s fine,” Y/N said, beginning to turn away from him, but he caught her with his hand around her hip, then closed the gap between them so there was no space between the pair.

“It’s not,” he disagreed, “I… I want to be your friend, Y/N.”

“My friend?” She was so fucking confused.

“Yes,” he nodded his head, creeping his free hand under her chin and forcing her to look up and directly at him. “I do not want to be the only person benefiting from this deception.”

“Okay,” she didn’t know what else to say.

“Let me teach you how to feel comfortable on a horse again. I can give you lessons.” He decided showing her how to be confident atop a horse would be something she would benefit from. She wouldn’t have to feel confined to the palace anymore or lie to the people around her.

“So you can belittle me in our lessons?” Y/N asked, raising a brow at him.

“No, Y/N. No more of that, I can assure you.” He sounded so sincere, he was convincing himself. Maybe the truth was that arguing with her, getting under her skin, and picking her apart was exhausting and he didn’t like feeling like the worst version of himself around her. He was so confused. So confused. He hated this perfect princess exterior she put on, but he disliked being an asshole more.

“You really want to help me?” She could hardly believe it.

“Yes,” he dropped his hand from her chin and her hip, taking a step away from her, “Tomorrow morning, meet me at the stables.”

With that, he turned away and found his way back to his bedchambers. Harry really needed to decompress.

______________

The next morning, Harry found her in the stables. She had gotten there before him and was waiting by Freya’s stall. Brad wasn’t there quite yet. It was so early, the sun was just starting to poke through the horizon.

Colors of red, pink, and gold reflected from his skin as he approached her, and Y/N noted that the colors peaking from the horizon were almost as beautiful as him. While the sun rise was beautiful, it was not nearly as beautiful as him.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked, walking up to where she leaned against Freya’s stall.

“I’m ready,” she explained.

They had spent hours talking about how to form a bond with a horse, how to treat a horse, and where not to stand when around a horse. They talked about how to saddle a horse up, how to put the bit in a horse’s mouth without injuring yourself or the animal you need to be taking care of. Harry was actually a very good teacher. He wasn’t pushing her out of her comfort zone, he wasn’t belittling her for the things she was taught when she was younger but forgot how to maneuver. Harry even brought up what Brad had said about her having panic attacks when she was too close to horses, and told her that if she was feeling anxious to let him know, they could find a spot where she felt safe. Overall, working with him wasn’t too bad.

Y/N tried not to talk about the incident that made her so fearful of horses to begin with, and as much as Harry wanted to know why she was so afraid of them, he didn’t want to push and pry. He knew what it was like when people pushed their way into your personal space, and it was his biggest pet peeve, so he wasn’t going to subject her to something he hated deep in his bones.

Brad was surprised the first day when he came in, and saw Y/N, with shaky hands, petting on Freya. Freya seemed to enjoy it, and Harry stabilized her shaky arm as she reached in the window of the stall and pet her, whispering small encouragements in her ear. He was standing directly behind her, the front of his body pressed to her back as she reached in.

“Good girl,” Harry said, his fingers clutched around her elbow to combat the shakiness in her arm.

“She is a rather good girl,” Y/N said, touching the softness on Freya’s nose.

“No,” Harry laughed out, his fingers still gently holding her elbow steady, “I was talking about you. You’re being a very good girl.”

Y/N felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but chose to say nothing, and much to her good luck, Brad had finally showed up for the day, amazed at how Harry stood there with Y/N and held her from behind as she touched Freya.

“Wow,” Brad said, dropping some of the grain he was holding into the stall next to Freya’s, “You’re doing very well, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t think she could handle all the compliments, so she redirected the attention to Harry, “It’s all him. He's a great teacher.”

“I bet he is,” Brad shot a look toward Harry, a smirk forming on the edges of both their mouths. It made Y/N wonder if they actually had some sort of relationship like Harry hinted at the night he told her he was going to bed Brad in order to spite her. “I just hope you don’t have nightmares tonight.”

“Nightmares?” Harry’s grip around her elbow tightened, pulling her arm out of Freya’s stall and letting Y/N’s arm fall to her side. “What does he mean?”

Y/N turned around, and threw a scowl in Brad’s direction. Her back pressed against the stall door as she let a sheepish smile appear on her face when she turned all her attention toward Harry. “I used to have nightmares about the incident.”

Harry’s lips pressed into a hardline, a serious look glossed in his eyes. “If you start having nightmares again, tell me. Please.”

“I will.”

______________

Y/N didn’t know what to do about the dreams she was having regarding Harry. It seemed that every single night her dreams of Harry were becoming more and more graphic. The first night she dreamt of him was the first night he was in the palace, and she dreamt of what his lips felt like on hers.

The second time she dreamt of him, she dreamt of the ways his hands felt around her body, and ever since then she had been having that same dream of him, over and over again. He would start by kissing her neck and touching her all over, calling her sweet names, and making her cry out in pleasure.

Every morning she woke up feeling debauched, and when she would meet Harry at the stables in the morning, she tried her best to not let the emotion flood her face. Sometimes she was scared that he could just look at her and know she was having inappropriate dreams about him.

A week had passed of her spending time with Harry. She learned about his favorite food, what he loved about his own kingdom, and even found out that the Marigold flower was native to his kingdom.

“You kind of remind me of a Marigold.” Harry said softly.

“Why is that?” She looked over at him, as he began putting the bit on Freya. Y/N wasn’t ready to ride yet, but today she was going to walk Freya along the property with Harry to get used to her holding the lead rope in her hand.

“They’re bright and beautiful,” Harry buckled the bit, pulling the lead rope through as he spoke to Y/N, “A lot like you.”

“I think we’ve come a long way,” Y/N noted, grabbing the lead rope with shaky fingers when Harry handed it to her.

When Harry realized that her fingers were shaking and her eyes were nervously glancing around, he grabbed the lead rope back from her and began walking Freya out of the barn and toward a trail nearby, “I’ll walk her for now. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

They walked together, talking about the most random things and getting to know each other. Y/N couldn’t believe she didn’t like Harry at first. Fine, he was slightly annoying, and when she thought about how she was technically still being blackmailed it made her a little furious, but when he was being so pleasant and lovely, she tried not to think of those things.

On top of all that, how could she say she still disliked him when she was dreaming of him every single night?

“Why don’t you try holding the lead rope as we walk, and I’ll hold your hand over it?” He suggested, coming to a stop in the middle of the trail. As much as he liked walking Freya, he did want Y/N to make some progress.

“I think I can do that,” Y/N agreed, grabbing the rope in her hand and locking it securely between her fingers. Her hand wasn’t on the rope for even two seconds before Harry threw his hand around hers and gave her a look that she knew said I’m here for you.

Her heart nearly skipped a beat as his hand enveloped hers and his eyes brought comfort to her hammering heart. For a moment, she closed her eyes and imagined how his lips would taste— probably sickeningly sweet. She thought of the way he might moan against her, like he did in her dream. The vibrations flooding through her, feeling like pure ecstasy.

What the hell was she doing?

______________

Y/N thought back to the first night Harry had been to the palace. That night, she had a dream of Harry pressing his lips against hers. The more time she spent with Harry, the more she dreamt about him at night, and as the days passed, the more graphic they got.

Today wasn’t the first time she had woken up with a puddle between her legs due to a steamy dream she had about Harry, though, it was the first time she had reached her climax in her sleep and she couldn’t help the shame that picked away inside her.

Quickly, she cleaned herself off and began putting on her riding clothes to meet Harry in the stables.

______________

This morning, Y/N could barely look Harry in the eye, and he wondered why that was. They had been working together for a little over two weeks now, and she was growing much more comfortable with him each day. Actually, it was rather frustrating for him to find out that he somewhat enjoyed spending time with her. She was kind of funny, a little sweet, and overall, easy to teach.

“Will you tell me why you can’t look at me today?” Harry grinned at her, and noted the way she dropped her gaze from his eyes back down to her hands, an emotion he couldn’t quite place lingering on her features.

“Sorry,” she mumbled out, still refusing to meet his eyes. This might actually drive him crazy.

“Tell me, darling,” Harry reached for the water that was sitting atop Freya’s stall door, and began taking a few sips, his eyes still locked on Y/N, waiting for her to explain. Sooner or later, she would tell him. She was quite bad at keeping secrets.

“Did you actually take Brad to bed?” Y/N still didn’t look up at him.

Harry choked on his water; that was the last thing he expected Y/N to say to him. “Why do you think that?”

“You told me you were going to take him to bed the night you told me you wanted to be my friend,” Y/N recalled.

“I did say that,” Harry hummed out, placing the water back atop the door of the horse stall before moving toward her, “No, I did not take him to bed.”

“Do you want to… You know? Do you like him in that way?” Y/N was trying to avoid certain words, too shy to actually say what she was thinking, and the shyness in her tone was enough to make Harry’s knees almost buckle.

“I think he’s handsome, Y/N, but I would not hurt your feelings like that,” Harry explained, shrugging his shoulders.

“So you only like him, then? That is why you would not marry the Duchess?” Y/N had so many questions rifling through her mind, she didn’t know where to begin.

Realization dawned on Harry’s face, “I have a preference for both, Y/N. I do find men attractive, but I find women attractive too.”

“Oh okay,” Y/N nodded her head, “I’m sorry I was just thinking of that night and how maybe you and Brad—”

“That’s so naughty, Y/N.” He took a couple steps toward her, reminding her of the night he told her he would teach her how to ride. There was only a small gap between them, the front of his chest pressed to the front of her chest, but this time, there was a wooden wall behind her and if he only took one more small step, she would be pressed against the wooden wall in the barn and the front of Harry’s bodice. She was so depraved.

Harry’s voice was full of teasing, but Y/N was so wrapped up in her thoughts, she thought he was chastising her, “I’m sorry, Harry! Not like that!”

“Darling, I’m only teasing you,” Harry’s grin was contagious, Y/N couldn’t help the small smile that spread across her lips, “Now won’t you tell me a secret? I’ve given you one of mine.”

Y/N didn’t even think about it before blurting out, “I wish I knew what it was like to be kissed.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, his hand pressed against the wooden wall, trapping Y/N between his body and the wall (still offering her a way out from the position on his left). All he needed to do was bend down and connect his lips to hers and she would know what it’s like, but he would never do it without asking first. “Would you like me to teach you?”

“I would like that,” she breathed.

So, he would give her what she wanted. In the matter of seconds, his knee was positioned in between her legs, almost touching her center. His head had swooped down so his lips were just a few centimeters from her own, and his eyes were full of peer lust. Without much thought, he pressed his lips against her gentle ones, sliding his tongue across her bottom lip, begging for her to open up for him and let him in. Though, Y/N didn’t understand the cue, and Harry understood that since this is her first time being kissed, she wouldn’t know the trick of sliding your tongue against someone’s bottom lip and what that was asking for.

Gently, he brought his lips to her chin and pulled down ever so slightly, parting her lips and allowing access to her mouth. It was the most pleasant noise he had ever heard, the moan that vibrated into his mouth and warmed his muscles. The blood was flowing to his cheeks, his heart rate quickening and pumping the blood through his body, and straight to his cock. Honestly, if they didn’t stop kissing, he might actually come in his pants, so he pulled away, leaving her breathless and hot.

“How was that?” He asked.

“I think I liked it a lot,” she panted out, pressing her legs together and Harry knew the signs of that all too well, but decided not to comment on it.

“We can do it again sometime.” He shrugged, removing his hand from the wall and taking a few steps back.

“O-okay.” She muttered.

Y/N was feeling things she had never known were possible.

______________

Harry’s lips were pressed against her neck, his hands wandering to the waistband of her underwear before looping his fingers around the elastic and pulling them down her legs. Before she even had time to process what was going on, he was gently laying her against the bed, but they weren’t in her room… No, she didn’t know where they were, and for a moment she was dissecting the bedchamber and all its decor until Harry’s thumb found its way to her clit and one of his fingers sunk into her, rubbing against the button that had her back arching off of the bed.

“Oh,” she gasped out, her breathing becoming erratic with each stroke. “Please, Harry. Please…”

In this scenario, she didn’t feel ashamed for calling out his name, for begging for his fingers. Harry had positioned himself so that he was on top of her, one hand holding him up so that he good get a good look at her face (in this scenario, he liked to watch the way her nose scrunched when she hit her climax) while his hand worked her clit and flicked against her g-spot.

“Don’t worry, darling girl,” he leaned down, his lips pressed against her lips as he spoke, “I’m going to get you there.”

She couldn’t help it, she needed him so badly. When he pulled his fingers out and inserted another, expanding the space inside her, she arched her back off the bed and bucked her hips into his hand begging for more friction than he was supplying her with.

“Don’t be greedy, love.” He found a different position so he could use one hand to pin her hips to the bed, and the other one to tease her with his fingers. “You need help orgasming, darling?”

“Harry, I need help!”

“Y/N!” Harry shook her shoulders, causing her whole body to shake as her eyes opened to reveal a panicked Harry peering down at her.

It took a moment for her to understand what was going on, but when she looked at her surroundings which were dimly lit by candles, Y/N realized that she was in her bedchamber, and no longer in the bedchamber in her dream, and Harry had pulled the chair sitting in the corner of her room to the side of her bed.

A dream. It was just another dream. And it took a moment before she realized that Harry was here, waking her from her dream frantically.

“Harry,” she breathed out, and though he heard the breathiness in her tone as a sigh of relief, for Y/N she was coming down from the orgasm she just had in her sleep. In front of Harry. “What are you doing here?”

“Baby, you were having a nightmare. You’ve been screaming my name,” he tucked a strand of hair that was coated in sweat behind her ear, and she noted the softness in his voice, a guilty feeling ripping through her.

Actually, his voice wasn’t the only thing soft about him. Harry was still sporting sleepwear, white linen pajama pants and a matching button top. His curls which were normally assorted and crisp looking flopped against his forehead, and she couldn’t help but notice the way he stroked his thumb against her head whispering sweet nicknames he had never called her before, but what she really couldn’t stand was the guilt and worry flooding those cloverfield eyes of his.

“I—” she went to explain that she wasn’t having a nightmare, but before she had a chance to get the words out, he was telling her what happened.

“They came and got me. Dorothea told me this is the fifth consecutive night you’ve been screaming my name, why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me the lessons weren’t working, and they were putting you in such a bad place. I didn’t want this for you, baby,” Harry continued to stroke his thumb against her head, this time lowering his hand so that his thumb was stroking along her lips which wasn’t helping the sticky wetness pooling in her panties and the ache in her lower belly.

Y/N, filled with shame at the guilt in his eyes and the crude dreams she’s been having, tried to find her voice, “Wasn’t having a nightmare.”

“What do you mean, darling? You were screaming my name, asking for help?”

In response, Y/N only pulled the edge of her blanket closer to her chest, tucking herself away from him.

It took Harry only two seconds to understand, “Oh?”

“Sorry,” she muttered, dropping her head and inching away from the touch of his fingers.

“No!” He exclaimed, hooking his fingers around her arm as she tried to scoot to the other side of the bed, “Don’t be sorry. There is no need for that, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t know how to respond, so she nodded and expected him to get up and leave her to her own devices.

Harry’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I just didn’t take you for a beggar, darling girl.”

It could have been the nickname, the same one dream Harry had given her as he brought her to her climax or the fact that he was calling her a beggar but she couldn’t help the heat that flooded through her cheeks as she averted her gaze from his, “Stop!”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, and Y/N noted the way his fingers that were once tracing circled over her cheeks and then rubbing against her lips were now touching and grasping at her arm, like he had to be in constant contact with her. “You should never be embarrassed of what your body naturally desires.”

“Easy for you to say,” she scooted closer to him, back to where she was before she began inching away, “You’ve never been embarrassed.”

“I have. The first time I ever let someone touch me, I reached my orgasm in my trousers,” he began, offering her a questioning glance to ask if this is okay? When she nodded, letting him know he could climb into her bed, probably against her better judgment, he stood from the chair and put his knee on the bed. Before she knew it, he was putting his knee over her, straddling her momentarily, then found his way to the other side of her bed, so that they were laying side-by-side. Y/N couldn’t help the way heat filled her cheeks, tearing at the tiny tendrils of muscle throughout her body and igniting a fire from deep within her abdomen. How could she think straight when she was dripping with need, her body begging for some sort of release.

Harry continued what he was saying once he was in a comfortable position next to her, but Y/N had trouble listening to his words when the only thing she could focus on was regulating her breaths, “That was pretty embarrassing. The second time I was embarrassed was the first time I met you, and you were standing there looking so beautiful and perfect, I tripped over my words. The third time I felt embarrassed was when I read your letter in the office and you expressed that my actions were not that of a gentleman, and you were right.”

She didn’t know what to say, only that she was burning with desire and needed him as close to her as possible. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

“You’ve got me all soft tonight. I was under the impression you were having nightmares because you were too nervous to tell me you didn’t want to continue with lessons. I am cruel, Y/N, you have always been right about that, but I am not a monster,” his words were honest and true, something he would probably regret tomorrow, “Believe it or not, I never wanted to give you nightmares.”

“You haven’t given me nightmares,” Y/N was used to feeling shame around Harry, even though she could cover it quickly by hurling a snarky comment toward him.

“You have no idea how relieved I was to hear that your dreams about me are nothing but good… I would like to rectify the situation for you.”

“Rectify the situation?” Y/N was beginning to feel even more confused than when she woke up in her bedchamber with Harry’s fingers wrapped around her shoulder, waking her from her vivid dream.

“Yes,” he breathed, turning his body so he was laying directly parallel to her, “Would you like me to take care of you?”

“I… I would like that,” her fingers held the quilt tighter to her chest, not quite sure if this was going to be a mean joke to toy with her and then laugh about it later.

“Do you trust me?” His eyebrow raised, knowing her answer without her even needing to speak the words.

“Not… particularly,” her breathing was becoming more rapid as the conversation took such a sultry turn.

“If you don’t trust me, I can’t make you feel good, darling.” He tried to reason with her, and as much as he wanted to run his hands over her sides and touch her all over, he knew he couldn’t do that. Not while he was trying to gain her trust.

“I’ve never done this before,” she said quietly, barely audible.

“I know,” he agreed, “We are going to take it slow. You are safe with me.”

And Y/N didn’t know if it was the look in eyes, or if it was because of the fact he rushed to her bedchamber when someone woke him up from his peaceful slumber to come comfort her from her “bad dream,” but in this moment, she really felt as though she could trust him. On top of that, he knew her biggest fear, and never let her feel uncomfortable when he was teaching her how to ride, so why shouldn’t she trust him?

“I feel safe,” she told him and expressed her limits, “I trust you. No mean words, Harry.”

“No, baby, only praise for how well you’re doing.”

Those three little words, the innocence in her eyes, and the way she clung to her blanket for a security measure could have sent Harry into a downward spiral. He tried to compose himself, tried to contain himself, because he knew he had to take it slow with her. He propped himself up so that he could loop his hands around where she clutched her blanket so tightly. “Have to relax, darling.”

She took in a few deep breaths, just how he taught her when she was trying something new, and her body released the tension as she made eye contact with him. Something about Harry was so contradictory. How could he make her feel so guarded and upset, but also make her feel so safe in her most vulnerable moments. As her grip loosened from the blanket, he asked if it was okay for him to remove it, to expose her body only dressed in her white nightgown. When she murmured a small yes, he peeled the blanket from her body. Cool air encompassed her, and she hadn’t realized just how hot she’d been under the blanket.

Y/N used her elbows to prop herself up, leaning back against the pillows, giving herself a full view as she sat up right, and Harry took this moment to lean back, so his upper body was still parallel to hers, but he still had enough room to use his fingers to work her to the brink of her orgasm. Fortunately for her, he was reading the situation thoroughly, checking for the signs that she wasn’t ready and verbally communicating with her to make sure she was feeling okay.

“How are you feeling, love?” Small touches is what he started with, using the arm that he wasn’t propped up on to trace heart shapes (though, Y/N couldn’t tell what shape he was making) with his forefinger around the bare skin of her hip.

“Feeling good,” her words were breathy, making his cock twitch in his pants, “I’m ready for you.”

Harry let out a small chuckle, his eyes glancing between both of her eyes as he spoke, “We’re going to take it very slow. I’m gonna teach you about pleasure, darling, with my fingers. How does that sound?”

“With your fingers?” She hated how demure it sounded, how underprepared and unknowledgeable the words sounded coming from her.

“Yes. With my fingers first,” he trailed his fingers from her hip, to her lower abdomen until he was over the cotton of her panties, feeling the wetness seep through, “You’re so wet, it feels like you’ve already reached your pinnacle. Did you?”

Sheepishly, she nodded. Though she may not know what it felt like when she was awake, she knew the signs when she woke up from a dream about him. Typically, she was as wet as she is now, a sticky feeling between her legs. “In my sleep.”

“Christ,” he breathed, pulling her panties to the side, but not taking them completely off in an effort to make her not feel so exposed. First, he used his thumb to touch her clit, using small circular motions at a very steady pace. When her breathing picked up once more, and small guttural moans fell from her lips in encouragement for him, he picked up the pace. Harry couldn’t help it, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

Slowly, he lowered his head, pressing his lips against her own as he continued to rub in circular motions. Her back arched from the bed, his lips still on hers as he swallowed the noises she was making against him, and her mind was spinning with absolute desire. Pure bliss is what she felt, her flesh hot with each touch as he continued to work her most sensitive spot while his lips moved against hers. She didn’t know she could feel this… Good. In her dreams she was a sweaty, whiny, mess, but in this experience. In this very, very real experience, she couldn’t hold back the whines or the way her back kept arching into his touch. It was a complete parallel to the way she felt in her dreams, the way dream Harry took care of her and the way real Harry was taking care of her now was so similar.

____

Harry’s mind was a whirlwind of emotion; he loved the way he was making her come undone beneath his fingers. While his thumb worked her clit, he slipped his middle finger in, the cool gold of his rings making her gasp against his mouth, and he took this moment to slick his tongue over her bottom lip and find his way into her mouth. Her mouth was warm, tasting of sweet fruit and honey… She was everything he could ever desire, and he hated the way he crumpled beneath her. She made him feel so out of control, but in this very moment, he had all the power. For a second, he removed his lips, staring down at her with her eyes shut. Her ribcage flared with each breath, her chest heaved as small whimpers tumbled from her lips with his name somewhere in the mix.

As soon as he found that spot inside of her, the spot he knew could make a woman buckle at the knees, she was finding her release and rocking against her hand. Normally, he would tell his partner to stop riding his hand to control the situation, to make them so pent up with frustration and desire that they could barely stand it. He loved to see tears form in his partner's eyes due to overstimulation and pure desire, but this time around, he just wanted her to feel good and comfortable as she reached her climax. This was a vulnerable moment for her, and he didn’t want her to remember it by looking back and thinking about how he wouldn’t let her cum… No, she was being such a good girl for him, rocking against him with such a politeness as she whimpered small pleases and thank you’s that he didn’t want to reprimand her for feeling what she was feeling. In fact, he decided she needed a good reminder.

“You’re being such a good girl, Y/N. So good for me,” as soon as those words filled her ears, her walls began pulsing around his fingers and he knew she was about to reach the brink of the universe, so he continued to encourage her, “Let it out, baby.”

“T-thank you,” she said, clutching the sheets in her hands as her back arched from the bed, and she clenched once more around his fingers, drenching his hand, his wrist, and the end of his pajama sleeves.

“So polite, darling,” Harry noted as her hips thrusted up once more, riding out her orgasm on his hand. Once she was completely fucked out against his hand, Y/N’s eyes fluttered open as she tried to maintain eye contact with him, and when Harry brough his hands coated in her arousal to his mouth and licked them clean, another wave of arousal shot down her spine.

“Is it your turn?” She asked him, barely able to keep her eyes open.

“Not tonight, darling,” his hands found their way to the quilt, covering her up with the blanket so she wouldn’t get cold after she fell asleep. Normally, he would clean his partner up before allowing them to get cozy in bed, but the thought of making her get out of bed and wash up felt too evil as she could barely keep her eyes open.

“When?” She muttered, eyes still closed, “I want to.”

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow, Y/N.” He lifted himself off the bed, and she mumbled a small okay as he walked out of the room.

Harry was so fucked.

817 notes · View notes