#prince harry x y/n

[novelistrry]

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.”

Or

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.”

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.”

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.

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[eveningepiphany]

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

[sweet-creature101]

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,

B.

#famous!harry #harry fanfic #harry imagine #harry x y/n #harry's house album #azriel acotar #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry one shot #harry styles blog #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry one direction #frat boy harry #harrys house #harry styles x reader #prince harry #harry styles #one direction imagine #one direction fanfiction #one direction #harry styles blurb

[whitemancumslut]

this is nothing. just 2.5K words of me fantasizing about phh/lhh harry as a dad. ignore my delusions— or not, reblog and like:))

imagine!!! the baby is like one when harry has his long hair and lhh being a dad to a little baby girl GOD HEAR ME OUT!!!

i so imagine y/n finding out she’s pregnant at the beginning of phh’s era

“I’m pregnant.”

The words left her mouth quickly. Sick of the anticipation, she sucked in her breath looking up at her boyfriend.

Harry sat there with his fingers intertwined, mouth gone dry from being hung open for too long. His brows are furrowed, his mind trying to translate the words said. “I— Uh—” The only syllables he was able to get out. He cleared his throat vigorously.

“I—I’m—I’m going to be— Are you sure?” His eyes piercing up into hers, stinging with tears. She chuckles, suddenly feeling relief that his reaction seemed a little on the bright side. “Y-yeah,” She pulled out the two ClearBlue test with the clear words Pregnant written across.

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat before he’s able to comprehend anything. His mouth is dry, hesitant, he turns the rest towards him to clearly see it.

“I’m going to be a dad?” He breaths out.

Y/n’s eyes lightened after her whole demeanor had been tense due to the anticipation of his reaction. “Yeah, you are,” She let out a breathy laugh as she tried not to cry. Trying to read his expressions— Harry’s lip eventually twitches into a small smile. Disbelief and happiness all in one. “W-we’re going to be parents?”

Y/n pouts towards him coyly, nodding before pulling him in an soft hug. Harry’s slow to respond but he eventually does. Wrapping his arms around her torso tightly, letting the built up tears of happiness drop on to her t-shirt that she most definitely stole from him.

“Are we ready for this?” She whispered in his shoulder.

They were only twenty. Fresh out of their teen years, nervous as hell, but they made it work.

omg don’t even get me started when they find out the gender!!

Harry would lay down on the bed, resting his head on Y/n’s chest softly just like he’d always do before she was pregnant and caress her bump.

“‘Dats my baby girl in there,” Harry whispered in disbelief. Caressing her bump so ever softly.

“Don’t forget about me,” Y/n pouted softly, joking of course. Harry huffed out a soft chuckle, pressing a passionate kiss to his girlfriend’s cheek. “How could I? I love you, always, my love.” He reminded her kindly of his love her before resuming to the view of her glowing stomach. Treating her like the queen she deserves to be treated like, he was always so soft and gentle when he spoke and touched her.

Y/n’s fingers tangled in his tight curls that went all the way down to his shoulders and caressed his scalp softly. Getting his attention by calling him with a small “Baby.”

“Yes,” He answered lowly like he was going to awake the baby.

too cute too cute too cute

“Not trying to push you or anything. But inside that head of yours were there any names that came to you? Or not yet?” Y/n couldn’t imagine that he didn’t think of any names yet.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath before turning to Y/n and saying, “Yes, plenty, but i feel like the perfect one won’t come until she does, you know what I mean,” He said. “I need to see her first, you know,” He looked back down at her belly then at her.

“Well it’s nice to have ideas. Can I hear what you got?”

“Really? Are you sure?”

ima explode

“Throw em at me,” She smirked.

“My first thought was, Rosie.” He said simply, looking up at Y/n, hesitance in his voice. A large smile grew on her face at the sweet soft name. “Go on,” She urged.

He smiled lightly. “Lily, Maeve, Lucy, Ellie, Hailey— like e y or l e e,” Every name out in a blink of an eye. Y/n couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle as he continued naming names like he had a list engraved in his brain.

god i so believe that he’d lay back next to her and just rant about baby names and go, “well yeah there’s mine. yours?” :(( so baby

I also feel they would hide the whole pregnancy from the press. At least try to. Many fans would be suspicious on why they don’t see Harry and Y/n together as much— many would think they are just not spotted. But really Y/n is trying to hide her growing fetus.

ugh!! imagine how thrilled he’ll be to be a father:((

hes def the type to adress y/n and the baby as two.

“I’ll be right back,” Pecking his girlfriends lips and letting his two hand lay up on her belly. “I love you… both.”

i’m going to cry

♡♥︎♢♦︎♡♥︎♢♦︎♡♥︎ ♢♦︎♡♥︎♢♦︎♡♥︎ ♢♦︎

—One Year Later—

fuck ima scream. imagine lhh about to go on stage and can’t leave the baby alone:(

Lily giggles as her father blew into her soft belly. Kicking her little chubby legs as if it’ll fight him off. The little airs hitting her stomach tickling her. She laughs ridiculously hard at her dad’s actions.

Fifthteen minutes before the concert starts and Harry can’t get enough of the little chubby baby. Her laugh was so contagious, her beautiful smile. Teething, baby. Two teeth at the bottom, two at the top.

Y/n sat next to her baby as Harry cooed to her sweetly. “Argh! You’re just the cutest arent ya’” Harry cooed before pressing his lips against his daughters cheek, giving her a sweet kiss.

Dressed in a simple black long-sleeve shirt, with matching skinny jeans and his favorite boots, Harry swore to himself he was going to get up and go with the boys soon but every time he would kiss Lily and Y/n goodbye and try to go for the door, he swore the baby called, “Da da,” and came back for an extra five minutes.

“Harry you have to go,” Y/n chuckled.

“I know I know. It’s time she naps anyway, huh?”

Y/n nods sweetly at her fiancé before taking her baby in her arms. “You might as well take one with her, lovie.” Hoping his girls gets some much needed-rest while she could. Harry presses a kiss to each of their foreheads before stepping out of the dressing room.

Harry would come back to his dressing room, sweaty, bottom of water half-empty, hair falling out of bun. But all exaggeration leaves his body when he spots his two girls passed out on the long sofa of his dressing room.

and then just imagine when they get a chance home. the baby would be about 14 months now. harry has come home from tour, the band hit its hiatus. imagine lhh with a baby at home! ima cry fr

Harry would wake up in his L.A home. His fiancée by his side and his baby fast asleep.

“Da da!”

Harry’s heart beams every-time he hears it come out of her squeaky small voice. So cute, so small, he was going to explode. “Yes baby, Da Da,” Pressing pepper kisses on her nose, as she let’s out a little giggle.

“Okay let’s get you fed, yeah?”

Harry placed the tiny plastic green spoon against his daughters lips. Her favorite flavor ever, Banana.

“Mmh,” She shook her head.

Harry pouted, “No? This is your favorite, darling. At least try it,” He placed the spoon between her sealed pink lips, getting them to slowly pry open.

She begins letting Harry place the banana flavored liquidated mush in to her mouth. He sooner earned a, “Mmhm!” Harry chuckled fondly as she squeaked to the delightful taste of her favorite flavor.

“Mmh!” Harry mocked his daughter playfully, impersonating her reaction to delicious food. “More?”

She scrunched her face up she proud took another spoonful, Harry wiping the dripping banana mush off her chin with her bright colored bib.

nah because that baby is his and he’s gonna do whatever to protect her. that’s his ‘princess.’

“Good morning, princess,” He greets quietly as he steps into the nursery. Loud babbling alarmed him to step into the room, telling him she had awoken.

When he bent over the crib, he was met with her big wide colorful eyes. Babbling to her father, arms stretched, hoping to be held. Her lip quivers scared who wouldn’t get the message, “Da Da,” she’d whimper.

“O-oh my baby!” He’d coo babyishly. Tending to his daughter, Harry would pick up his baby up, setting her on his hip as she clings to his shirtless body. “Don’t cry m’pretty girl. Don’t ye’ cry.”

He bounced her in her arms, giving her soft kisses to her temple.

The fact the baby would probably be a daddy’s girl would be so !!! like when the baby is like 18 months and they’re able to say simple, “mommy,” and “daddy”’s

“Daddy,” Her lip would quiver after watching her Daddy leave the room and Harry would immediately revert his tracks. Harry shirtless with his hair tied up and just into his shorts as he was about to jump into the shower. But immediately making a 360 turn to his fiancée and daughter on the large bed in their bedroom.

“I’m right here baby,” He said walking back to his daughter. Hand out to her, she’d wrap her little hand around his two fingers.

“Daddy's going to shower he’ll be right back,” Y/n promised, holding her. The child tried to move towards the edge of the bed to crawl towards her father but Y/n held her hold.

“I’ll be right back, baby, promise,” Harry pouted.

please i just know he hates leaving her!!

When he’d walk away, again… Her lip would tremble and her eyes would swell with tears, “Da-Daddy,” She called silently.

Harry’s quick to look back her watching him walk to the bedrooms master bathroom.

“Oh baby, come here,” He took her right when the tear finally fell down her cheek. She curled up into his neck as he rubbed down her back sympathetically.

Y/n’s quick to hold her up and let Harry tend to her. As much as Y/n would be jealous of the favoritism Lily has over her for her father she couldn’t blame her— Harry treated her like a little princess.

“How about we take a bath, yeah? Wanna do that?”

Harry let’s her soft hand hold his large finger, he doesn’t get a response but Y/n smiles before saying, “I’ll get it set up.”

harry taking gears when y/n is exhausted.

“Oh hello my gorgeous girls,” Kissing them both on the foreheads softly, Y/n would smile wholeheartedly.

Holding the bottle up to Lily’s mouth Y/n smiled sleepishly at Harry. “Hi,” She spoke quietly. Harry looked her in the eyes and immediately noticed the sleep she was craving.

“Oh my love, I got this. Why don’t you rest for the night? I got ha’” He offered, holding his hand out for the baby.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah you’ve been with her all day, I’ve got her,” Harry answered sweetly taking the baby from Y/n’s arms. He felt all though he was tired she deserved the rest more than he did.

“Well she’s fed, she just wanted to drink outta the cup for a while, I guess. You got this?” She checked.

“Yeah,” He assured her.

“Mmh, you’re the best. Thank you baby.” She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, before receiving one of for her own. “Always. Goodnight my love.”

“Goodnight.”

Y/n kissed Lily on the head before heading upstairs to bed.

Harry bounced Lily in his arms softly, going to lie down on the sofa.

Humming whatever tune in his head. Whatever it was he couldn’t get it out of his head. Pulling the silly cup away from her mouth as she began to doze off, Harry laid Lily’s body up on his broad chest.

Singing against her forehead ever so lightly. A tune that’s been stuck in his head all day, humming it softly above his daughters head as he stared up at the bare ceiling.

IM GOING TO EXPLODE.

harry’s def the type to give her a little talks when he’s stressed or just out of it.

“I think mumma’s upset with me,” He’ll speak lowly, sitting in the chair in the nursery, holding his daughter straight forward cradled in his arms.

“I’m trying,” He’ll tell her. “I just wish I could be with you guys all the time, you know. I’m trying to— you guys are my number one priority, you know that right? But I don’t want mommy to think the opposite,” He told her truthfully. “Do you think I'm doing a good job?” He asked the question, not getting any response.

“I know mummy thinks I'm doing a bad job.” He speaks sadly, “I know she feels like she’s on her own. But I’m trying I really am—” Lily’s eyes brightened and her small hand grabbing at his face in response.

“I— What? What you grabbing at—” He lent forward to see her mission on his face only for her to grab at his long strands of hair. Opening her mouth wide, Harry’s eyes widen, “No, my love. You cannot chew my hair,” He chuckled, pulling his hair back from her mouth on for her to began swinging around her tiny finger. “I really wish I could be with 24/7,” He sighed. “Soon, though. Just gotta make it up to mumma. She doesn’t deserve to be all alone on this. You could be a handful my little angel,” He teased. Knowing she couldn’t understand most of what he was ranting about was the most comforting thing about this conversation.

“I love you,” He sighed. “I’m trying,” He promised her. Letting her softly tug on his hair, her eyes focused on the hair, and his focused on her large ones. “Do you believe me?” Brushing her hair back softly, Harry brushed his nose against hers, “I’m sorry if I’m not doing well, baby. I’m trying to be their for you guys everyday but you know, the band. But it’s okay, alright? Because the boys— we are planning a little break. I’m hoping during that break I could spend everyday with you and mummy, yeah? Speaking of which, what you think about me doing my own thing? You think Daddy can do it, huh? Without the boys, Daddy can do it by himself, right? I mean it’s only a little break but if I ever wanted to focus on just something like a solo thing… do you think I can do something with it?”

Lily babbled baby noises that made Harry chuckle. A little yawn followed, telling him it was about time he wrapped this midnight talk up. Smiling softly at his daughter, their matching dimples mirroring each other. “I always knew you’ll be my number one supporter,” He chuckled pressing a kiss to her nose. “I love you with my whole heart, lovebug. So much it hurts.”

i def over did. it with the end but i couldn’t help it ugh that’s his baby:(

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #dad!harry blurb #dad!harry x reader #dadrry #dad!harry #harry styles blurb #harry blurb #harry styles fic rec #harry styles imagines #phh #prince hair harry #harry styles concept #harry concept #dad!harry imagines #phh imagines #lhh imagines #lhh!harry

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Me & The Devil P.2 🌘| Harry Potter Imagine

takes place during HBP & DH1

Part 1 here | HP Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Black!Sister reader x HP characters (platonic), Severus Snape x reader (platonic/semi-romantic)

Content Warnings: death, violence, profanity, angst, slight cannon divergence, mentions of torture and blood, set during the book timeline of the 1990s | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k

Requested yes/no

Premise: A dark storm is brewing over Hogwarts. The return of Voldemort and his Death Eaters spark unease in the Golden Trio. For a certain member of the Noble House of Black, she takes on a new role of double agent with the partnership between her and a certain Hogwarts professor. Will she survive the ordeal and get her freedom when it's all over? The odds are slim when acting as a loyal servant and hunted by aurors.

Note: Snape is 37 in this like the books and reader is 31. Part 3 will be the final chapter to this miniseries but I have no idea when it will be posted. Hope y’all like this one! Also near the end the final scenes are inspired by Wanda in MOM so yeah that belongs to Marvel

——————-

Months went by. Waiting. Scheming. Y/n felt her mind deteriorate by the day. Between Bellatrix’s constant complaints of Draco’s failures and Narcissa’s moping, Y/n spent most of her time in the attic of Malfoy Manor. Hidden away to perfect her spells and create new ones. She even managed to successfully become an animagus. 

A black crow.

How fitting.

At times Y/n found herself sitting in front of the window. Especially when it rained. The lightning in the distance, the crisp air filling the attic walls. Lost in her thoughts, Y/n would caress the silver jewelry laid on her left ring finger. 

Once a month she’d receive a letter from Severus, unbeknownst to the others, detailing Draco’s attempts and all the times Snape’s had to cover for him. As part of their deal to keep quiet of the others' disloyalty and motives behind actions, Snape agreed to update her on Draco and keep the Order off Y/n’s trail. For Y/n’s side of the bargain, she agreed to deflect suspicion on him from their fellow Death Eaters. Specifically her sisters.

And what better way to do that then in holy matrimony.

“You want to get married?” she scoffed, placing her wine glass on the coaster. Having left with her sisters following the unbreakable vow, Y/n returned later that night after Severus sent an owl. Sitting in the same leather chair from before, “You humor me.”

“I can assure you I am everything but comical, Y/n,” he drawled, standing by the fireplace. The sound of wood crackling filled the room. “This is not an arrangement I suggest lightly.”

Seeing how serious he was, Y/n’s demeanor changed. “Wow,” her tone lowered, finger raising to tap her lips. Unable to read her mind since she was a gifted Occulmens like himself, Snape was left to wonder what Y/n was thinking. Truth be told the woman was more impressed than shocked by his proposal. “I think that’s the first time I’ve been rendered speechless, Severus.” Standing, Y/n grabbed her glass and approached the man. “You truly believe this would work? Proposing a marriage between us….” she trailed, glancing at the fire briefly, “is intriguing. Tell me more.”

Snape’s expression remained the same, “It is simply a matter of convenience.” No need to sugar coat it, “We want to keep our secrets hidden. So long as you can assure your sisters stay off my back…..I’ll make sure the Order stays off yours. We play the part of a happy married couple when operating business with the Dark Lord, and I will do everything in my power to get your freedom when this all ends.” 

Y/n liked what she was hearing. The more she thought about it, the more engrossed she became. Marrying Snape wasn’t ideal--as the concept itself she did not care for--but Y/n could not deny the idea made her curious. Plus Severus was handsome, a talented wizard, and obviously, he knew her motives for following Voldemort. What her end goal was. She needed to keep him close. 

“I think I’ll find playing the part of a smitten wife will be rather easy,” she rasped, stepping closer to Snape so their chests were nearly touching. Walking her fingertips up the length of his arm, Y/n leaned closer to Snape which ignited a sharp breath from the man. She smelled of expensive perfume. Their closeness allowed him to see how her eyes turned from their usual coldness to something more lustful. Almost sinister. His reaction made her smirk, “Confident you can manage the same….husband?” 

Now, almost a year later, the two managed to successfully keep their union hidden from the Order. All while any suspicion the Death Eaters had of Snape seemed to disappear. Bellatrix, initially furious and doubtful of their ‘relationship’, soon began to trust him. Still, the witch grimaced each time the pair greeted the other with an affectionate kiss. Or when Y/n took claim to Snape’s lap during meetings. An action which surprised the man himself in the beginning.

Each letter Severus sent was met with one in return, however Y/n was careful to only send her owl in the late hours of the night. When her family was sound asleep. Signing the parchment with only her initials, but instead of B as the ending initial it was S. She’d never admit it aloud, but Y/n felt a sense of comfort with Severus. There was an overwhelming amount of hate in her heart, but the pinch of sanity left in her soul connected to him. Which is not a surprise. He is, of course, the only person who can relate to her. 

Neither would call it love. Y/n possessed no love. And Snape lost his when Lily died. They had mutual respect and care for each other as their partnership grew. Finding the other’s presence calm despite the world around them going to shit. 

The news of Draco’s success in connecting the two cabinets came from Bellatrix’s glee, the woman bursting into the attic with a loud, “It’s time, sister.” Reluctantly, Y/n trailed Bellatrix to Knockturn Alley, where they met several of their associates. 

Dark clouds painted the sky. Thunder rumbling. It set the tone of the evening. 

Y/n stayed stoic the entire journey. Hating every minute, yet doing nothing to escape. Where could she even go? The mark on her arm prevented her from doing so. Until Voldemort was defeated, the only way for her to stay alive was to continue the act of a loyal servant. 

Draco was gone when the group breached the cabinet in a cloud of black smoke. The boy rushed to find Dumbledore and complete his task. He found the man on the observation deck of the Astronomy Tower. Unaware his longtime rival, Harry Potter, was below him, watching the scene play out. 

The others arrived to witness Draco complete the task, however, in the end Snape was the one to administer the curse. And so the greatest wizard in history fell from the sky. 

Y/n kept her eyes on Severus the entire time. Watching his reaction. When he went through with the unthinkable, Y/n wasted no time in rushing to his side. Cupping his face, she noticed the dissociative expression Snape wore. Mind processing what he had done. “Severus,” he didn’t respond, making her shake his shoulders, “look at me.” Finally he meets her eye and the woman matches his anxious demeanor. “We have to go. Now.” 

Clutching his robe, the two push Draco in the direction of the Death Eaters. Bellatrix’s maniacal laughter rings as she shoots a spell into the sky to bring forth the Dark Lord’s symbol in the clouds. Not long after the tower was surrounded by members of the Order, ensuing a battle between the groups. Y/n tried to avoid dueling as much as possible. Not wanting to harm anyone, especially the kids in the school. 

Cutting the corner after dodging a spell from her niece Nymphadora, Y/n spotted the wretched Fenrir Greyback attacking a man she didn’t recognize. Judging by the wild red hair he possessed, she assumed it was a Weasley. Greyback’s back was toward her, unaware she stood behind him. From the looks of it, the redhead was losing the fight. 

Not sure what came over her at that moment, Y/n raised her wand and shouted, “Stupefy!” The werewolf was flung into the wall behind him, falling unconscious. 

“Bill!” a voice screamed, Y/n turning to see a young woman running to where the Weasley laid. Bloodied and knocked out. Fluer dropped beside him, sobbing at the state of her fiance. She glanced up to see Y/n, immediately becoming frozen with fear while pleading with her to help. “Y-you--H-he’s been--.”

Cursing to herself, Y/n approached the two. “He wasn’t bit,” adjusting her dress skirt, she grabbed the cuffs of Bill’s jacket and gestured for Fluer to help. Together they moved him to a concealed area away from the battle. “He’s been scratched.” Having studied werewolves while in school, the woman was well educated on the subject. Muttering a healing spell, Y/n attempted to at least stop the bleeding, however, she knew the extent of his injuries were serious. “Nevertheless, the wounds are cursed. They’ll scar.” 

Fluer watched her carefully, “W-why are you helping us?” Y/n gave no answer, instead casting a final healing spell before standing up to leave. In her peripheral vision, she noticed movement from Greyback, and sent a second stun his way to keep him unconscious. She always hated him, so it gave her great pleasure to pu thim down. 

Truth be told Y/n didn’t know why she helped the injured Weasley. It would have best suited her to get the hell out of there and let whatever outcome happen. Whether that be Greyback killing the man or Bill successfully overpowering the werewolf. But instead, she cursed her associate. Saving the life of ‘the enemy’. 

Several agonizing minutes passed before Y/n managed to escape the tower. At Snape’s order, she ran deep into the forest until she was far enough to apparate. Back at the manor she was immediately questioned by her sister.

“Is Draco okay,” Narcissa grabbed Y/n’s wrist to stop her from escaping to the attic. Eyes glossy with tears, “Did he--.”

“Your son is fine, Narcissa,” she roughly pulled away. “You have my husband to thank for that--he finished the job.” There was immediate relief from Narcissa, exhaling the breath she had been holding. Y/n went straight to the liquor cabinent, taking a glass and pouring a generous amount before downing it. She then refilled the glass, offering it to her sister without a word. Once Narcissa took it Y/n kept the bottle for herself, saying nothing more as she made her way to the attic. 

It wasn’t long before the others arrived. Y/n heard Narcissa’s cry of relief upon seeing Draco. Bellatrix was busy scolding Greyback--something that brought a smile to her face. Other murmurs were made out, but hard to identify with all the noise. Moments later she heard the fast approaching sound of footsteps nearing her door. Jolting from her bed with her wand raised at whoever was about to breach it. Only when it was revealed to be Severus did Y/n lower her guard, rolling her eyes, “What have I told you about--.”

Snape slammed the door shut, muttering a silencing charm which caused Y/n to raise her brow. “We need to talk.” Her guarded expression returned, but Snape beat her before she could question him. “I know you stunned the werewolf to save Weasley.” All movement from the woment seized, frozen in shock.

“How do you know--.”

“I saw you with Miss. Delacour, Y/n,” Snape peers down at her with visible frustration. “Why would you risk such a thing? If you had been caught--.”

“But I wasn’t, Severus,” she interrupts, eyes flicking to the door in fear someone was listening, but then she remembered the spell he cast. “I was careful. You should know better than to underestimate me. And to answer your question….” she turned away from him, hands on her hips as she turned her focus to the woods beyond her window. “I don’t know what possessed me to do what I did--It just happened. Maybe it’s the fact the Weasley’s are distant family. Or because I fucking hate Greyback.” She throws her hands up in defeat,  “Or I want the Order to have all its members to better their chances at winning this damn war. Maybe…” her hands fall back to her sides, “deep down there’s some humanity left in me.” The words were so low it was barely a whisper. Y/n shook her head, the speck of softness replaced with disinterest. 

“Whatever it was,” turning back to him, Y/n narrows her eyes in warning. “It’s no longer our concern. Dumbledore is dead, you killed him.” footsteps echo against the wood as she approaches Snape, noticing his expression change at the mention of the headmaster. “He will be plotting his next move. We need to remain focused--I expect his attention will be on us more now given the circumstances.” 

Snape knows she’s right. Killing Albus only shined a spotlight on him, and in turn on Y/n. He was now labeled public enemy #1 in the eyes of the Order. Voldemort himself will likely turn to Snape. They will have to up their game, continuing the act of a happy couple. Well happy as one can be in the middle of a war. 

That summer was endless torture following the Headmaster’s death. Y/n not only had to deal with Voldemort growing stronger, but also the return of Lucius from Azkaban. It did bring the witch great joy to see the dark circles beneath his eyes and matted hair. One year in prison did a number on him. 

Lucky for Lucius it was only one year. Had it been 15 like Y/n, he’d surely gone mad. Thankfully the two rarely saw each other. Not long after his release following Dumbledore’s death Y/n moved into Severus' home. Only returning to the mansion when necessary. 

At every Death Eater meeting Y/n had to fight yawning with how bored she was, keeping her expression blank even when addressed by Voldermort from time to time. The man wasn’t blind. Well aware the youngest Black was not as forthcoming with her praises to him like Bellatrix. Never voicing her opinions, while also keeping any objections to herself like a smart person would do. He never fully trusted her. Even though she was married to one of his most trusted advisors, something in the back of his mind told Voldemort she’d be the first to turn on him. Without proof, Voldemort kept a close eye.

The meeting tonight was just like any other. Seated at the massive dining table in Malfoy Manor, Voldemort at the head while the Black’s and Malfoy’s flanked to the right. Y/n seated beside Draco, far from her sisters. Very telling of her attitude towards them.

Severus was the last to arrive, dark cloak tailing behind him. His entrance caught everyone’s attention, while his was on his colleague hanging in the air. Muggle studies professor Charity Burbage. The wounds on her body indicated she had been subjected to torture. 

“Severus,” Voldemort greeted, “I was beginning to worry you had lost your way. Come. We’ve saved you a seat.” The headmaster took claim to the only free chair at the table, bidding a look to his wife, to which she slightly shook her head. Silently saying, “I had no part in this.”

Voldemort then said, “Do you bring news, I trust?”

“It will happen Saturday next, at nightfall.”

“I’ve heard differently, my Lord,” Yaxley interrupted at the other end of the table, then proceeds to say he believes Harry will be moved at the end of the month. The 30th of July. The day before his 17th birthday.

“This is a false trail,” Snape insists. “The auror office no longer plays any part in the protection of Harry Potter. “Those closest to him believe we have infiltrated the ministry.”

The Death Eater seated beside Y/n laughed, “Well, they got that right aren’t they.” Several at the table joined in the laughter. The youngest Black’s expression was tight, plastered with annoyance. 

“What’s say you, Pius?” Voldemort addresses the man seated at the opposite head of the table. 

Nagini curled herself next to the chair as he answered, “One hears many things, my Lord. Whether the truth is among them is not clear.” Voldemort chuckles.

“Spoken like a true politician. You will, I think, prove most useful, Pius.” The Death Eater appears pleased by the compliment. Voldemort turns back to Snape, “Where will he be taken, the boy?”

“To a safe house. Most likely the home of someone in the Order. I’m told it’s been given every manner of protection possible, once there it will be impractical to attack him.”

Suddenly the conversation is interrupted by Bellatrix. “My Lord, I’d like to volunteer myself for this task.” She leans against the table, voice dropping, “I want to kill the boy.”

“Of course you would,” Y/n thinks to herself, holding back the urge to roll her eyes. Frankly she found her sister to be stupid to ask such a thing. Considering Voldemort mentions his desire to kill Harry Potter everyday. And with the prophecy, there’s no way he’d allow anyone else the opportunity to do the deed. 

In the back, Charity let out a haunting groan, causing Voldermort to shout, “Wormtail! Have I not spoken to you about keeping our guest’s quiet?”

“Yes, my Lord,” the man spoke with urgency. “Right away, my Lord.” As he scurried off, Voldemort returned his attention to Bellatrix. 

“As inspiring as I find your bloodlust, Bellatrix,” the hope was clear in her eyes, disappearing with his next words. “I must be the one to kill Harry Potter.” With that she curled back into her seat, Y/n’s lips raising in a satisfied smirk.

“But,” he rises from his chair, “I face an unfortunate complication.” As much as Y/n wanted to tune out this conversation, the nature of it was hard to dismiss. Especiall when the man walked behind the chairs on her side of the table. Brushing past her sisters before ending beside Lucius. There was satisfaction seeing him visibly afraid of Voldemort. A smirk on her lips when he was to give up his wand, a wizard’s most prized possession.

Her expression shifted when Charity’s brought to the center of the table. Death Eaters laughing at her despair and cringing with disgust at her profession. Y/n moves her gaze to Severus, who’s emotionless to Charity’s pleas. Then when the woman’s killed and her body drops to the table, Y/n lifts her hand to grasp Draco’s wrist. Squeezing it in warning for him to control himself when she sees his distraught state in the corner of her eyes. 

The action surprises the boy. Draco sucking in a breath and forcing himself to relax. Once he does, Y/n removes her touch and waits to be dismissed by Voldemort. As soon as the order is given she’s quick to leave the table, taking Snape’s outstretched hand where he apparates them back home. 

“How do you plan--?” he doesn’t let her finish the question.

“I have it covered.” Moving to his study, he hears her footsteps behind him, Y/n slamming the door shut once they’ve entered. He looked annoyed, “This doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it does!” she shouted, making him clench his jaw. Ever since the incident at the Astronomy tower the two had been on edge with each other. For one, the Order discovered their marriage causing Y/n to lose her shit. Now she was public enemy #2 in their eyes. Or 3 if you count Voldermort at the top. Her odds of the Order leaving her the fuck alone decreased immensly. 

Second, Snape told her of his and Dumbledore’s arrangement. That the headmaster asked Snape to kill him. A secret Y/n had trouble wrapping her head around and prayed to a higher power no one, especially Bellatrix, found out about. 

Crossing over to him where he stood at his desk, Y/n caught his wrist to make him look at her. “In case you have forgotten, dear husband, we are playing both sides right now. You say you want to protect Harry Potter…just how do you plan to do that during an ambush you helped orchestrate? What the hell are we supposed to do if Harry Potter dies at his hands Saturday next?” Y/n squeezed his wrist tighter, “I’m putting all my trust into Severus Snape. You promised me my freedom when this was all over.” 

“I haven’t forgotten, Y/n,” he removes himself from her grip, “You say you trust me. Do so, and you won’t be let down.”

Y/n didn’t know where it all went wrong. One moment she was flying in the sky, the next she’s being rammed into by Bill Weasley’s Thestral. Pain erupted in her chest, likely from a broken rib and caught herself on the creature's satchel. Her hand is then grabbed by the imposter Harry seated behind Bill, keeping Y/n steady to prevent falling to her death. Using her talent of legitimins, Y/n identifies the imposter as Bill’s fiance Fluer. 

“You’re not Harry Potter,” she whispers, causing Harry (Fluer) to widen her eyes. The accusation was confirmed when Fluer’s voice responded, “How did you know?” Before Y/n could answer, however, the world around her became black. Having been stunned by Bill who realized what was happening behind him.  

Acting fast, Fluer reached with her other hand to further grasp Y/n’s now limp body onto the Thestral. 

“What are you doing?” Bill shouted over the chaos, “She’s one of them!”

“And she saved your life in the Astronomy tower, William!” Fluer screamed back. Using all her might, she hauled Y/n over the bottom half of the creature. Gripping the material of her robes and dress while ducking at the incoming curses around them. 

When they finally made it to the Burrow, the shaky landing caused Fluer to lose her hold. Y/n fell to the ground, still unconscious. Bruises were sure to form on her body. Bill leaped off the Thestral, helped Fluer off and rushed to Y/n. After confirming she was alive by pressing his fingers to her pulse, the oldest Weasley took the death eater into his arms and followed Fluer into the house. But not before telling Fluer to take her wand which had been discarded into a ditch.

“Wait here,” he said, placing Y/n in the care of Fluer by setting her on a bench outside the door, Bill entered to find the others gathered around an injured George. After the shock wore off of his brother’s state, Bill announced the death of Mad-eye and departure of Mundungus. Deepening the already intense mood.

“There’s something else,” he hesitated, eyes flickering to find everyone staring at him with unease. They watched Bill exit the house, only to return a second later dragging the last person they ever expected. Gasps rang out, wands drawn in Y/n’s direction. The witch barely conscious but fighting against Bill’s hold. Eventually succumbing to sleep once again due to the pounding in her head. 

With the help of Remus, the two propped Y/n in a chair, casting a spell to bind her hands and legs. “Where’s her wand?” Remus urgently looked around, relieved to see the object in Fluer’s possession. He turned to Bill, “What the hell happened?”

As the oldest Weasley explained, Molly approached the woman, assessing her carefully. Y/n had dirt and grime in her hair. A small cut to her temple. Likely from a rock when she fell from the Threstral. Her breathing was shaky, pained groans escaping her mouth which Molly assumed was from trauma to her chest. Although the others were against it, Molly began performing healing spells on Y/n, “Had it not been for her my son would be dead! I do not care what side she is on--I shall offer the same courtesy.” 

The group was alerted to Y/n’s consciousness twenty minutes later when she groaned. Shifting in the chair, her eyelids fluttered briefly before opening to bright lights. Moaning, Y/n straightened up aware of the audience in front of her, however she did not appear concerned. Even with several wands pointing at her. “Hmmmph,” she blinks a few times, settling her gaze on Remus, “what an unpleasant situation we have here. I hoped to be dead before experiencing this.”

It pained Remus to hear her words. Thinking back to that little girl he’d met on the corner of Diagon Alley with James, perched on Sirius’ hip. That little girl was gone. In her place was a woman with the Devil on her shoulder. “We don’t want to hurt you, Y/n.”

Tilting her head as though she found his statement funny, she replies “Is that supposed to make me feel at ease?” rolling her eyes she adds, “Surely you could’ve come up with something better.”

Remus sighed, realizing it was about to be a long night. “We’re willing to negotiate terms if you provide us with information. A lesser sentence if you will,” he chose his next words carefully, seeing her demenor shift, “so long as you are upfront and answer all of our questions with honesty.” Y/n’s face tightened, no longer humored. Remus felt his stomach lurch, not breaking the intense eye contact she set with him.

“You threaten me--.”

“It’s not a threat--,” he insists but Y/n continues.

“With a cell in Azkaban and expect me to comply? By being a snitch?” she shakes her head, eyes full of fury. “Go to hell, Remus Lupin.”

“It doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Oh?” She grumbles with a glare, “and how else do you suggest it be? I’m not stupid--a tad mad if we want to get technical, but you all have yourselves to blame for that.” Y/n was referring to the Order not taking her in during the First Wizarding War. Sirius warned them of his family and the Death Eaters recruiting her at a young age. Yet no attempt to protect Y/n was initiated. 

The werewolf’s face fell, “Had we known--.”

“Known what?!” She jumped forward in her chair as the dam of pent up resentment and anger broke, making several flinch at the sudden movement. A few wands pointed up but she paid them no mind. “That I’d become a Death Eater against my will? That I’d be forced to use the Cruciatus Curse on the Longbottoms or face my sister’s wrath?” She spat with ferocity. Pupils nearly pitch black it made her appear demonic. “You knew what my family was like! Sirius knew--It’s why he left! And you did nothing to save me.” Leaning back in the chair, Y/n finished with, “Go ahead and kill me. I’m not telling you shit.”

Remus runs a hand through his hair, his patience running thin and stress levels rising. “Y/n, I’m trying to help you here. We’re giving you the opportunity to avoid a lifetime in jail if you help us--help us end this war.” When his efforts are exhausted Remus gestures to the man behind him, “Kingsley has Veritaserum and we will use it if necessary.”  Now this has her smirking, chin raising in challenge. 

“Go ahead,” her voice lowers an octave, sending chills along his arms, “I welcome you to.” Weary of her acceptance, the adult members of the Order all exchange looks before Kingsley approaches. Y/n tilts her head back, watching Kingsley unscrew the vial and pour the tiny amount of liquid onto her tongue. Once it’s entered her stream, the woman cracks her neck and returns her attention to Remus. 

He clasped his hands in his lap, leaning in his chair. “How’d you know about tonight?”

Y/n pretends to think, “I think I saw an advertisement in the Daily Prophet. Yeah,” she nods her head, acting serious. “That was it.” 

Remus’s own head falls to his chest, the others visibly confused. The potion was to make her tell the truth. Pretty much against her will. Thinking it may have not settled in yet, Remus asks another question. “Who told him we were moving Harry?” 

Deciding to play along, Y/n shrugs her shoulders, “Yaxley.” Lie. She held back a chuckle at his confused reaction.

“How did he know?”

“Overheard it.” Lie.

“Where?”

“Diagon Alley I assume.” Lie.

“From who?”

“I don’t know.” Lie.

“But he’s the one who told Voldemort.” Y/n rolled her eyes at that, gesturing to her binded hands.

“Obviously since we’re sitting in this predicament.” She sees the frustration on Remus, as well as the others. Yet, the witch couldn’t help but feel entertained. “Anything else?”

“What’s your relationship to Severus Snape?” 

“He’s my husband,” She didn’t miss the way the Order reacted to the news. Upset but not surprised. No point in lying. They already knew about their marriage from what Snape told her. The truth of why, however, was still a secret. 

“Why did he kill Dumbledore?” Harry stepped forward, drawing her attention to him. Anger was written all over his face. Filled with absolute hatred. Something Y/n had expected when her husband murdered the man he looked up to. 

“You were there, right?” she asked, head tilting with curiosity. “Snape mentioned you’d been below the observatory deck.” Tsking, Y/n surveyed him. She was getting under his skin. “Why do you think he did it?”

“I think he did it to save himself. He was a coward,” Harry saw the way her face tightened. Taking offense to his words. A mere speck of what someone could label as affection or respect to her spouse. 

“Severus Snape is many things,” she sounded sinister, anger seeping off every word. “But a coward is not one of them.”

“Fat lot of good coming from you.” Harry antagonized her. “You hightailed it out of the ministry when Sirius died. He was your own cousin.”

“My cousin who left me a sitting duck for the wolves,” Y/n reminded the boy, temper rising. An indicator with how her voice was strained. “Let’s not forget you all thought he was responsible for betraying your parents. Didn’t even hesitate to believe he was guilty.” That cut them all deep. “And I adored Sirius at one point in life. Much like you, Harry Potter,” she let out a deep sigh, attempting to calm herself, “look at where it got me.” Exhaustion was beginning to take over the witch. Her body ached and there was a pounding in her head. Molly’s healing spells worked to patch any internal injuries Y/n had, but she still was drained from the whole ordeal. 

They were getting off track. Having had enough of the tension, Remus butted in, “Answer the question, Y/n. Why did Snape kill Dumbledore?”

“I don’t know,” she simply stated. Lie. “He didn’t say. Although…I can only assume it was to spare my poor nephew.” Another shrug, “And survive the unbreakable vow. Which you already know of.” 

Harry shook his head, “I don’t believe you.” His gut was telling him there was more to the story. 

“Harry, she took the Veritaserum,” Hermoine pointed out gently, missing the flicker of amusement from Y/n. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Hermoine’s right, Harry,” Ron agreed, moving beside his friend. “There’s no way she could be lying.”

“How much did you give her, Kingsley?” Arthur questioned, also suspicious of Y/n’s answers. Kingsley held up the vial. More than half was consumed.

“Enough.”

“Something’s off,” he murmured, rubbing his chin. A bickering match ensued between members of the Order. Harry, Arthur, and even Y/n’s niece, Tonks, had difficulty believing Y/n told the truth. The majority, however, voiced opposition. 

“Veritaserum is a very potent and strong potion, Harry,” Remus stood from his chair, but before he could say anything else, Y/n’s voice took over.

“Which you just wasted.”

Silence consumes the room. Processing what she said. That’s not possible.

Heads turning to the witch, Y/n starts to chuckle in delight. A sight unnerving to the Order as it becomes more deranged. Harry looked to his friends for an answer, but they were just as perplexed as him. Y/n’s voice turns taunting, “Oh my, you lot really are daft at times. Have you forgotten? Or did you believe it to be a rumor?” Her grin is wicked, finding the scene entertaining much to their dismay. “I’m a skilled Occulmens.” 

It was as though the dementors arrived with how cold the air became. Everyone falters, stilling at the revelation. It could only mean one thing:

Everything Y/n said potentially was a lie. 

The Death Eater tsked, “What do you think I did with all that time I had rotting in the middle of the ocean?” she laughs again, more menacingly. “Your little potion is useless! My mind is more protected than Azkaban. For all you know I fabricated everything I just told you.” Her taunting laugh continues, shredding the last ounce of patience the Order had for her. 

Remus kneeled in front of her chair and smacked the table, causing everyone besides Y/n to flinch. “Enough of these games! I have tried to give you the benefit of the doubt knowing you’d been forced into this life, but you have proven to be not so different from your associates.” Now that was a nail to the coffin. Any and all of Remus’s hope for Y/n having some level of good in her gone. “This is your final warning--or we will throw you in Azkaban for the rest of your life for good!”

Never straying her stare, the Death Eater murmered cooly, “You have no idea how reasonable I’ve been.” This time it was Remus’s turn to scoff.

“Holding children hostage at the Ministry, attacking Hogwarts, marrying Snape, and sending assassins after the officials who locked you up,” He lists off, surprising the Order with the last detail. They had heard rumors of Azkaban guards and Ministry officials killed in the last few months, but assumed it was Bellatrix. “I don’t see how that’s being reasonable.”

Y/n gave a sound that was a mix of a chuckle and scoff, leaning forward in her chair. “Sending those assassins after them instead of myself was mercy.” A chill rose, Harry’s intuition telling him something was about to happen. “And despite your hypocrises and insults I have warned you time and time again to simply get out of my way.” Remus saw her hands fidget, tightening his grip on his wand. 

“You’ve exhausted my patience,” Her voice lowered once more, almost to a whisper as her bottom lip quivered. “But I do hope you understand…that even now--with what’s about to happen…..” lips curled into a deathly smirk. “This is me being…reasonable.”

Faster than the speed of light, Y/n casts a non-verble, wandless spell that mimics a gust a powerful wind, ripping the binds off her hands and ankles. Remus flies onto his back, the lights flicker and burst. The windows and glass shatter. Papers fly. Hermoine screams, echoing amongst the shouts as Ron pulls her into his arms. Molly leaning over an injured George to protect him from shards. 

 Fluer gasps at the feeling of Y/n’s wand in her hand ripped from her. The death eater had snapped her fingers in the chaos with a non-verbal Accio.

With her wand now in her possession, Y/n unleashes another bout of wind, crippling the Order from attacking her. Once satisfied she makes her escape. Black smoke fills the room before flying out the window and into the night sky. The storm inside the burrow seizing. 

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron coughs, catching his breath. 

“That,” Kingsley stands up straight, sore from colliding with the wall which knocked him down. “Was the closest thing to experiencing the Devil on Earth.”

Tags: @unloved-and-outspoken

#Spotify #harry potter imagine #severus snape imagine #severus snape x reader #severus snape #harry potter x reader #harry potter angst #severus snape angst #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x y/n #death eater!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin angst #death eaters #draco malfoy angst #half blood prince #deathly hallows #severus snape x y/n #severus snape x female reader #bellatrix lestrange #narcissa malfoy #slytherin!reader #tom riddle

[hiddleswiftt]

I love your fics and I saw you wanted ideas so here I am. I thought maybe you could do a Taylor inspired fic for Laurie with Love Story maybe with like a ball or something?

ooohh! yes! I’ve been waiting on a laurie fic request for a while now!

maybe with another march sister reader??

(tumblr deleted my first draft so i have to re-write!)

LOVE STORY (INSPIRED BY THE TAYLOR SWIFT SONG “LOVE STORY”!)

laurie laurence x march sister (fem) reader!

description - you have been friends with laurie (along with your sisters) since his mother passed away. laurie was the lonely boy who was living with old mr laurence who lived opposite the march house, and ever since he started hanging around with you and your sisters, you’ve started to have feelings for him. six years later, you are travelling around europe with aunt march as her companion whilst you are studying and completing your acting classes. you and aunt march are invited to a ball in paris and someone in particular is on the list for you to dance with for the night! - i tried to make it similar to amy and laurie’s story but the reader wanting to be an actress rather than an artist like amy!

you’ve always loved laurie. always.

even when he had feelings for one of your older sisters josephine (or jo).

you’d be the one sitting aside, especially during your eldest sister meg’s wedding, while you watch jo and laurie dance. amy would reassure you that you’d be okay as you sit with her and beth (as she continued to struggle slightly from trying to get better from scarlet fever).

when beth got scarlet fever, laurie was always around for you. when you found out about it, jo and meg told you to stay with aunt march until beth is well again.

“i don’t want to say with aunt march! id rather catch scarlet fever than stay with her, the poodle and the parrot!” you’d wine as you put your head between the pillows of the couch while laurie would insist for you to stay with aunt march.

he was very persuasive, but in a kind way.

he wouldn’t tell you to do something if you didn’t want to. but this was serious. the spread of scarlet fever was serious. it wasn’t a joke anymore. you just about understood that.

laurie told you he’d come and see you, and you suggested for him to bring either the carriage or the phaeton, which he did, just to make you happy.

whenever laurie came to see you, you’d be dancing dramatically (as you would usually) wearing aunt march’s feathered things. you’d smile at him when you realise he’s been standing at the doorframe of the room watching you.

you’d show him things such as aunt march’s wedding ring (which you told him that she was too fat to wear anymore - he’d snigger at you quietly when you said this), the golden bracelet that was for the only child she ever had (until it died unfortunately…) or perhaps anything else you had found amongst aunt march’s house while she was napping.

you would show laurie the will you’ve written, since you thought you’d be the next to die to scarlet fever. laurie sat with you in confusion.

“from y/n m/n march, this is her will and testament for those that may die after her,” laurie read, “for my sister jo, i give her my..”

in this case the list went on.. and on..

laurie looked at you, “y/n.. you’re not going to die! you’re not even sick!” he tells you, trying to reassure you that you were going to be fine.

then you look across to him, and slump down next to him, “i know.. it’s just a precaution! i will some day.. we all do!” you tell him.

there’s a silence between the two of you. then you finally pluck up the confidence to ask laurie to write something else on your will.

“laurie? i have one more thing for you to add?” you ask him, “i want all my curls cut off to all the men who had loved me!”

you seem a little dramatic, but laurie laughs at you slightly and quickly scribbles it down on the will for you.

“if you want to look horrific in your coffin, y/n, go ahead!” laurie tells you, laughing as he finishes writing your comment on the will.

TIME SKIP -

it had been a year since and you had been travelling around europe with aunt march as her companion, while you completed and studied your acting classes.

you and aunt march were set to attend a ball in paris! you had changed a lot since you left home so aunt march suggested that you should start looking towards marriage now that you are properly of age now.

you had met a man named fred vaughn back a few years ago (he’s a friend of laurie’s) on the lake one summer. aunt march suggested for the two of you to marry, but you were unsure, and you thought that you wanted to make your own match.

you arrived at the ball venue in paris. you looked stunning. one of the best dressed probably..

as you entered the venue, you were given a card which included 6 men that wanted to dance with you for the evening.

you glanced at the names on the card briefly (except for the first - which you headed to first).

gregory lance - the first gentleman on the list. wants to dance “the saraband” with you. so you headed towards him for the dance.

as you quickly got through each dance, you finished your fifth finally. you said goodbye to david molesey - who was your fifth dancer, and looked down to your card again to find your sixth and last dance of the night.

you looked down to spot a familiar name on your card.

‘6. theodore laurence - lancers’

you smile and start to look for laurie, not realising that he was already staring at you from the doorframe of the room.

you smile at him and you decide to meet each other half way.

you hug him straight away, trying not to let you or laurie ruin your look of the night. “laurie! what are you doing here? i thought you were in london with your grandfather!” you said, smiling at him.

he smiles at you, completely in awe of you of how beautiful you look, “well.. i guess i am needed here just incase you need anything, y/n march!” he said, “and you look so beautiful! i almost didn’t recognise you!”

you blush a little and slap his arm softly, “yeah yeah.. what have you been up to, laurie?” you ask him, “anymore of the gambling and the drinking?”

he laughs slightly, “no.. no.. none of that recently, y/n!” he tells you, then you remember something that didn’t do laurie any good recently.

“im so sorry jo turned you down, laurie.. im so sorry.” you tell him, looking at him, making sure he’s okay.

laurie looks back up at you, “don’t worry.. im not..” he said to you, smiling at you and taking in the view of you, then he remembered that you both have a dance together, “miss march? may i have this dance?”

laurie takes your hand in his, leading you to the middle of the room to start the dance. you nod at him, “one often does at a ball, laurie laurence..” you tell him, giggling at him a little.

he smiles at you, as you both walk and start the dance. the dance has become more easier for you both.

you remember when you were younger, probably about five years ago, you and laurie were stood in the laurence house dancing. beth was playing the piano, meg was constantly flirting with mr brooke and jo and amy were giggling at you two while we continued to step on each others feet as you both danced.

oddly it was the same dance that were to start dancing at the ball just then. it was a familiar feeling that you hadn’t seen or talked of in a long while. the nostalgia rushed back to you both immediately.

it felt just right.

as the music and the dance stopped, there was a sense of something between you two.

you invited laurie to talk with aunt march and a few others. a lot of aunt march’s friends thought you and laurie were married!

you just shut your mouth and didn’t say much after that.

MINI TIME SKIP -

you decided to have a break and walk outside to get some air on the balcony. it was getting slightly too warm in the building so it was good to escape for a few minutes.

you didn’t notice laurie behind you, so it shocked you for a moment.

“y/n? are you alright?” he asked you, finally catching up with you and standing next to you on the balcony.

you smile up at him, “yes.. yes.. im fine.. i just needed some air..” you tell him.

you notice two boats on the ocean near to the venue, as you both stood on the balcony. the boats were close together. laurie caught you looking at them, and swiftly looked back at you to admire you.

“those boats are pretty close together.. as if they are on the same path..” you mumble to him.

laurie smiles and takes your hand in his. this gets you to look up at him. “y/n.. are we on the same path?” he asks you.

you suddenly look from the boats to laurie, who had now taken your hand in his. you looked into his eyes. you both knew exactly what you wanted.

“i guess we are, laurie…” you finally admit, as you start smiling at him.

you both stand and admire each other for a couple of seconds, then laurie begins to hold your waist, now leaning into you slowly.

as you both continue to stand on the balcony, you and laurie lean in together for a slow but passionate kiss.

you bring your hand to his cheek, and continue to kiss. the two of you felt alive at this point. more alive than you both have ever felt, ever.

you knew you should’ve told him how you felt years ago, although laurie was in love with jo at the time. gladly, you didn’t think that was the case anymore.

laurie loved you. and you only.

you loved laurie. and laurie only.

you both moved away from the kiss, laughing and sniggering still as if you were still children. you both knew that you weren’t children anymore, since time and your childhoods have gone so fast, and you both had nothing you could do to change that.

you were just happy in the moment. the moment you were continuously picturing for years. you never thought it would ever happen, but here you both were. in that moment together.

you notice something different about him that you didn’t see before.

“laurie. you grew out your hair!” you say, playing with it a little.

laurie laughs at you slightly, “i guess you could care for it?” he says, now looking at you.

you smile at him happily, “always, laurie… always!” you say, kissing his cheek.

suddenly someone with a letter on a tray walks to you and laurie. you pick it up swiftly and open it, making sure laurie stands by you though it, as you think the letter could be what you think it could be.

you read the letter. you were right.

you stand next to laurie and sob into his arms.

“it’s beth…” you say as you put your head into his chest, letting laurie hold you.

you let laurie read the letter. it’s from marmee, clarifying beth’s death.

you weren’t as close to beth as jo was to her. but you did have your fun times. especially that same moment when you, laurie and your sisters were in laurence house together, as beth played the piano while you and laurie would attempt to dance but instead you’d be treading on each others feet.

although you and beth weren’t as close as her and jo were, she still was your sister.

it was as if you planned out her death, as if you planned out your own with the will you wrote and told laurie about a few years ago.

MINI TIME SKIP -

it took you a couple of days to get through beth’s death. you were still in paris, you told marmee you’d come home as soon as possible.

you had a mix of feelings about what could be happening between you and laurie and thoughts of beth, and the fact that you weren’t there to support her when she was dying.

you stood on the balcony of the home you were staying in with aunt march. aunt march wasn’t doing so great herself either. she was falling ill now.

laurie came to see you that same day. he wanted to talk about the relationship you had but he was unsure whether you were okay to talk about it after hearing about beth’s passing.

“i keep remembering that will i wrote when beth had scarlet fever..” you remind laurie, as you both stand together.

“you bequeathed me a plaster horse, if i remember correctly.” laurie thought, as he looked at you.

“i had my death all planned out.. all rehearsed in my mind…” you say, trying not to cry, “i had beth’s all rehearsed and ready too… thought it would.. tear me open.. or burn me down like a house. but now im just frozen!”

laurie took your hand in his again. “ill come and see you everyday, y/n…” he says, admiring you but also making sure that you’re okay.

you look up at him, slowly twiddling your thumb with his, “promise me?” you ask.

he looks at you again, watching you twiddling your thumb with his, “yes.” laurie told you, now reaching into his pocket for something.

you wonder what he was looking for, so you decided to look out at the view from the castle balcony.

it took him a few seconds to find what he was looking for. he brought a black box from his pocket, and showed it to you.

you turned back to him and looked at the box. you were stunned.

“so.. y/n.. could we make it last forever?” he said, opening the box to reveal the engagement ring inside.

you were taken by surprise that laurie wants to marry you. you smile widely, and nod at him, letting him put the ring on your finger confirming your engagement.

MINI TIME SKIP -

you and laurie were on their way home from your long trip around europe with aunt march. aunt march had briefly found out about your engagement to laurie before passing out, and being taken home with aunt carrol and her daughter florence, who had been your other company before laurie arrived.

as soon as you arrived home, laurie helped you out of the carriage to find meg, marmee, father, amy, and jo (slowly) running out to greet you both.

marmee (with her good eye) noticed a ring on your finger. funnily enough, it wasn’t the same ring that laurie gave you a few days ago. it wasn’t the engagement ring.

you smiled down at the ring, and then looked back up at laurie.

“that’s not an engagement ring!” marmee says, realising something.

you and laurie smile at each other as you notice marmee admiring your ring.

“it’s a wedding ring!” marmee says, pulling you into a large hug and kissing you on the cheek, while father shakes laurie’s hand to congratulate us both, and to thank him for marrying you.

you smile at your mother again. “i cant quite get my glove over it!” you laugh, then moving to laurie to give your ‘husband’ a kiss on the cheek.

MINI TIME SKIP -

the hustle and bustle around the march house after yours and laurie’s return and the surprise of your marriage spread amongst the house. especially to mr laurence (laurie’s grandfather), who had told him to go abroad after jo turned him down.

you were happy. both of you were.

turns out that jo was falling in love with the professor she met at the boarding house in New York. she arrived home a week after yours and laurie’s return after being out in town and the professor was waiting for her.

you knew she was in love with him. jo knew you had always been in love with laurie.

you kindly persuaded jo to tell professor bhaer how she felt about him, and from soon after that, all your sisters and yourself were in love.

you all sat together, you and laurie at the piano as laurie played and you rested your head on his shoulder, meg and john with kitty and minnie, marmee and father and finally jo and bhaer.

it just fitted together so perfectly.

please don’t copy my work! <3

(let me know what you think of this fic by giving this post a like, follow and a comment!)

— h4uerkings

#jonah hauer king x reader #jonah hauer king x y/n #prince eric x reader #h4uerkings #harry chase #harry chase x reader #jonah hauer king #prince eric #max mallowan #max mallowan x reader #laurie laurence jhk #laurie laurence x reader #laurie laurence #theodore laurence #theodore laurie laurence #Theodore laurence jhk #jhk #jhk fanfiction #jhk fanfic #i love jhk #jhkedit #viral #i need him

[only-angel-28]

mastermind, theodore nott

ongoing!

masterlist

theodore nott masterlist

mastermind, part one

mastermind, part two

mastermind, part three

mastermind, part four

mastermind, part five

mastermind, part six

mastermind, part seven

mastermind, part eight

mastermind, part nine

mastermind, part ten

#theodore nott x reader slow burn #theodore nott x y/n slow burn #theodore nott x y/n angst #protective theodore nott #theodore nott x y/n fluff #theodore nott x reader angst #theodore nott x reader fluff #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott #harry potter #harry potter and the half blood prince #harry potter and the deathly hallows #draco malfoy #hermione granger #ron weasley #ginny weasley #fred weasley #george weasley #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #mattheo riddle

[iamjustaholeforyousir]

Look What We Became Masterlist

part1 - Arrogant Son of a Bitch

part2 - What makes you think you’re good enough

part3 - There's No One to Blame

part4 - I Almost Said Your Name

part5 - I Can Feel You Crying

part6 - You Don't Have To Go Home

part7 - While He's Touching Your Skin

part8 - I Disrespected You

part9 - Breathe Me In

part10 - There's just no gettin' through Without you

part11 - Walk Through Fire For You

part12 - You and I

@strwbrrydaydreams @remuslupinwifee @inlikea-coolway @mypolicemanharryyy @sunshinemoonsposts @stilesissaved @novalunosising @sleutherclaw @dear-mylove @kiy0hime @rafaaoli @st-ev-ie @urmomsksjdjdjsj @lomlhstyles @love-letters-to-uranus @panicattheuc @grace-vega28

#arranged marriage #enemies to lovers #forced marriage #grumpy x sunshine #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry x y/n #harry x you #perioddramacentral #prince harry #1d #one direction #slow burn #hazza

[desideriumwriter]

Sleep Tight

Summary: Fred’s too bothered to not do anything when he finds you sleeping on the cold floor 

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader (no pronouns used!)

WC: 1.2k

CWs: None!

A/N: I think I’m going through my Harry Potter phase AGAIN. So take this little fic I randomly thought of, there’s definitely gonna be more otw lol. Enjoy! <3

_______

Fred would often lose track of time when he practiced his Quidditch skills, especially when it was winter or summer break and he didn’t have much to do.

Today he joined in playing a few rounds with Ron, Harry, and George after dinner. You and Hermione came out and watched for a little bit, Hermione deciding to go back inside when she got bored, you went inside a little bit after her, when the cold air became too harsh on your skin.

Eventually, Harry, Ron, and George were too tired to play anymore and went inside, Fred stayed outside, continuing to practice his moves.

You were sitting on the couch, watching some old black and white film on the television. You would occasionally look out the window to see Fred on his broomstick, focused on how hard and far he could hit the ball, or how quickly he could dodge something. ———— It was midnight, you were trying to fight away the sleepiness pulling down your eyelids. You gave in when your head began to nod down.

You went upstairs and opened the door that led you into the twins room, George was already dead asleep on his bed, his body in a star position, laying on his stomach with his face smushed into his pillow, and his mouth wide open. Letting out snores here and there.

You grabbed the pillow and blanket you brought with you out of your bag, you set the pillow down and draped your blanket over yourself. You shivered when your arm touched the chilly wooden floor. You should’ve brought a better blanket and chose something warmer to sleep in rather than a t-shirt and shorts.

Yet, somehow you were able to fall asleep with George’s snoring and the cold that was causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. ———— Fred decided he was done for the night when he realized it was nearly 2AM.

He went inside as quietly as possible. He cringed when the door squeaked open and when the wood creaked under his feet going up the stairs.

He entered his shared bedroom and sighed when he saw you sleeping in the middle of the floor with that thin blanket. He knew how uncomfortable sleeping on the floor was from the amount of times where he was supposed to share a bed with George, but ended up being forced to sleep on the floor.

He crept past you, grabbing a pair of pajama pants and a loose shirt, sneaking into the bathroom to change. After he came out, setting down his clothes in the laundry basket, he looked at you on the floor again, feeling bad if he let you sleep there.

Guilt would eat him alive if he didn’t get you somewhere more comfortable. He crouched down next to you, sleeping on your side.

“y/n…y/n…” Fred whispered, shaking your shoulder gently. You groaned, still asleep.

“y/n!” He said a little bit louder, shaking you a bit harder. Once again, you groaned, annoyed, moving your shoulder away. At this point he was getting frustrated, he flipped you over and clapped his hands together loudly in front of your face. George’s snoring was interrupted, he grimaced in his sleep, changed his position, and began snoring again.

Finally your eyes began to flutter open and you raised yourself up a tiny bit, resting your elbows on the floor.

“What?” You asked wearily, wiping the small but still embarrassing amount of drool on your face.

“Get in the bed.” He nodded to his bed, you thought you heard him wrong.

“Huh?” You looked at him, brows furrowed in confusion.

“You can sleep in my bed tonight. You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” He assured you.

“What? No, I'm not gonna steal your bed from you, I’ll be okay.”

“And I’m not gonna let you sleep on the floor with that tiny bloody blanket sweetheart. You go sleep in my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.” He fully sat down next to you, waiting for you to get up and switch spots.

“No! I was able to fall asleep here with no problem, I can do it again. I’m fine.” “Your body won’t be in the morning.” You knew he was right, there’s been other times where you’ve slept over at a friend's house and slept on the hard floor or carpet, and woke up with your torso, or some part of your body aching. Yet, you would ignore it.

“Fine.” You sighed. Fred grinned as you got up, knowing he won this argument as you began to walk tiredly to his bed and climbing in.

Fred took your spot on the floor, laying his head on your pillow and pulling the blanket you had over himself. He let out a small chuckle at how he was too tall for it, due to his feet sticking out at the end of the blanket.

That was soon interrupted by it being pulled off him. He sat up to see you facing towards him, your blanket in your hand.

“Nope, come on.” You dropped the blanket and patted the empty space next to you on the bed.

“What?” He sat up.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor either.” You raised your head at him.

“You’ll be crowded with me sharing the bed!”

“I don’t care about how much space I’ll get, you deserve to be comfortable. Just get in the damn bed.” You turned back on your other side, facing the wall. Fred let out an annoyed groan.

“If you insist, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He slammed himself into the bed, causing you to bounce with the mattress.

“Arsehole.” You elbowed him in the side, Fred chuckled and you tried not to giggle.

“Shhh, you can beat me up in the morning, go to bed.” He whispered.

“Goodnight, arsehole.” You muttered, trying to force back more giggles.

“Sleep tight, y/n.” 

Within a few minutes you were knocked out. You flipped over, facing Fred, you dragged yourself closer, wrapped your arms around him and moved your head close to his chest.

Okay, maybe you weren’t fully asleep, but Fred thought you were. You pulled yourself closer to him knowingly. You had a tiny smile on your face, you tried to fight it, forcing it away so Fred couldn’t see.

That’s when you actually fell asleep, listening to his heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his chest.

Fred lifted his head up slowly to try and get a better look at you, he moved a few pieces of hair off your relaxed face. He wrapped his arm around your back gently, letting his head fall back onto the pillow.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face and the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen laying on his chest while holding him.

_____________

Tell me what you thought about this! Criticism is greatly accepted!

#fred weasley #fredweasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley x gn!reader #fred weasley fic #fan fic #harry potter #harry potter and the half blood prince #fred weasley half blood prince #james phelps #jamesphelps #james phelps fic

[gurugirl]

The Queen's Secret Masterlist

Summary: In which young Queen Y/n is married to King Edgar and they find themselves in need of a way to get Y/n pregnant as Edgar is infertile. King Edgar's brother in-law, Prince Harry is selected for the task but the deed is to be kept quiet lest the kingdom find out their dirty little secret. Unsurprisingly, the Queen finds herself falling for the handsome prince and he can't seem to get enough of her either.

TQS Aesthetic

A/N: This is set in modern times so you'll note there are cellphones, computers, vibrators... but the characters here are still royals so they'll be a little stuffy and old-school (traditional) at times :)

Tropes: Royal | Cheating | Pregnancy

Warnings: NSFW, smut, angst, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected sex

Word Count So Far: 66.7k words

| Read on Wattpad |

Sneak Peek

Chapter 1

Chapter 2*

Chapter 3*

Chapter 4*

Chapter 5*

Chapter 6*

Chapter 7*

Chapter 8*

Chapter 9*

Chapter 10*

Chapter 11

Chapter 12*

Chapter 13*

Chapter 14

Chapter 15*

Chapter 16* (updated May 11)

Main Masterlist

#royal au #harry styles smut #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #cheating #prince!harry #queen!reader #harry fic #secrets #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry #harry x yn #harry styles x yn #harry x y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction

[cyberstrm]

caught red handed

pairing: george weasley x gn!reader

cws: none! slight embarrassment,,?

a/n: this takes place during the hbp so george is 18 <3 reader is also 18/18+ <3

"george, we're so gonna get caught-" you chuckled as the redhead lead you enthusiastically into his shared bedroom.

"let them watch," he smirked, turning and swiftly kissing you roughly, one hand at your waist and the other in your hair. "i've...had...to wait....hours....to be alone....with....you..." he said hurriedly, between kisses.

you clung to him, his scratchy red jumper emitting the honeyed scent of old books and gunpowder. he was right, dinner with the wealsey's and co was always delightful, but it was difficult to snog your boyfriend in a room full of people. as soon as dinner had finished and you'd both helped clear up, he took your hand and quietly but quickly lead you upstairs and away from prying eyes.

"you're so cute." he smirked against your lips, making you smile against his.

"shut up and kiss me, weasley." you breathed.

"so needy," he droned, obliging. he kissed you again, pushing you to the wall, deepening the kiss.

"only needy for you," you replied during a gap in the kiss. he pecked your lips once more before pressing his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.

"merlin, i love you," he breathed.

"i love you, george weasley," you replied, leaning in and kissing him hungrily.

suddenly, the bedroom door swung open and within seconds, mrs weasley's voice followed.

"georgie, i have your washing here- oh!!"

"merlin, mum! ever heard of knocking?!" george yelled, his cheeks going as red as his hair.

"h-hi, mrs weasley," you waved awkwardly, also feeling your cheeks warm.

"hello, dear. um...well, i'll just...leave you two to it..." leaving the washing basket, she backed out and closed the door, looking mortified.

as soon as the latch clicked, you and george melted into giggles. he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and hugged you tight.

"told you we'd get caught." you mumbled. he kissed your neck, making you shiver.

"should we continue from where we left off...?" he muttered between kissing your neck. you turned in his arms to face him.

"definitely."

#george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley x you #harry potter #george weasley x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #harry potter and the half blood prince #fred weasley #x slytherin reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader

[novelistrry]

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!”

Or

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?”

“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!”

“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.

#harry fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles prince au #prince harry fanfic #harry styles preferences #love on tour #prince harry x reader #prince harry x y/n #harry styles drabble #harries #harry preference #enjoy :D #hs fanfic #harry smut #harry styles fic #princerry #prince harry au #novelistrry fic #prince harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles writing

[lovecanyon]

INSTAGRAM BLURB

king!harry x queen!y/n…

MASTERLIST | PATREON

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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!

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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!

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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.

READ MORE

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

ynharryupdates Y/N OUT IN LONDON TODAY!

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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!

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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.

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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!

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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.

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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.

READ MORE

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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

[harryssattelitestomper]

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.

#harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fake ig #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles fake social media #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #hslot23 slane #hslot23 edinburgh 2 #sweet creature #hslot wembley 2023 #hslot23 paris 2 #prince harry #harry styles story #love on tour #harrys house #fine line #love on tour wembley #belgium #love on tour werchter #lot: werchter #hslot #lot23 #as it was

[fookinavocadosman]

Let’s Hurt Tonight {HS}

It’s Harry’s birthday and Y/N has something special planned for him but will he ever find it out?

warnings: a bit fluffy but pure angst at the end

note: this is what harry’s wearing later in the chapter

word count: 3.1k

“Harry stop!” I yell through my laughs as he presses kisses and raspberries to my stomach, trying to push him away.

“Okay okay.” he stops his attack, laying his cheek on my stomach, his eyes connecting with mine as a soft smile lines his face. “I love your laugh so much,” he says to me and I feel my cheeks heating up as I cover my face with my hands.

“Stop it,” I mumble, letting a smile grace my face. We sit in silence just observing each other. Harry and I started dating a little over a year ago but we’ve known each other for years.

Let's say we're the poster children for the cliche of childhood best friends that have feelings for each other but are too scared to admit it to either one. Harry’s alarm blares bringing us out of the moment and he lets out a groan moving his face completely into my stomach.

“I don't want to go.” his voice muffled, sending vibrations up my body. I reach down and scratch at his head playing with his hair.

“I know,” I whisper back to him. He sits up turning off his alarm and turns his head to look at me. His hair is messy and his skin is glowing from the sunlight.

“I'll see you later, my love. I love you,” he whispers, leaning in and giving me a soft kiss. Kissing Harry feels amazing. Every time we kiss my body tingles with electricity and a smile never fails to break out on my face. It sounds dramatic, like something straight from a romance book or movie, but it’s true.

Harry gets ready and leaves me alone in my bed after leaving a quick kiss on my forehead. After getting acclimated without Harry I grab my phone texting Anne and Gemma to make sure everything is set for tonight.

Harry's birthday is today and I've been planning a party for him. It's hard trying to surprise him and plan things that will knock him off his feet because with just a press of a button he could have everything he ever wanted.

Perks of dating a world-famous musician I guess.

We're back in our hometown for his birthday so I've been planning with Anne and Gemma to surprise him with our friends from school and some of his more famous friends. I spend the rest of the day in bed and once I finally start feeling productive I get his present for tonight ready, it’s not big or flashy but it has meaning.

It’s a pale blue box, with one of my favorite quotes from our favorite movie to watch together. In delicate cursive, it reads, “It was no ordinary friendship. We were inseparable, constantly being separated. I’ve realized that no matter where you are or who you’re with, I will always truly, completely love you.”

When Love Rosie came out I sent it to Harry and told him he had to watch it and every time we would see each other that was the movie we watched. Maybe we loved it because it represented us but no matter the reason, it’s a huge part of our relationship. Inside it has some memorable items from our years as friends and even the start of our relationship as well as a photo album of photos of us throughout the years, family photos, selfies, candids, and even some photos of us from award shows made the cut.

I smile as I put it back under the bed and I begin to get ready for our “date”. I told Harry that I planned a special date for his birthday and we’d be going to his favorite restaurant but I needed to run over to his mum's to pick something up for after our date tonight.

As I'm doing my makeup Harry comes home knocking lightly on the bedroom door as he opens it. I turn my head over my shoulder to look at him and he sends me a smile coming up to me.

“You look, beautiful baby,” he whispers, placing a kiss on my lips. I mumble a thank you against his lips, he places his hands on my shoulders pulling away and pushing his cheek against mine. We look at each other through the mirror for a moment and he turns his head placing a kiss on my cheek before pulling away from me.

“What time is the reservation? I’m going to go take a shower,” he asks me as he gets undressed.

“8:00 but we got to stop at your mum's first so I can get something for later.” I remind him and he nods his head heading into the bathroom. I finish getting ready and text Anne asking if everything is coming out okay and she tells me to stop worrying and that she has it under control.

Harry comes out a few minutes later dressed in an opened button-down shirt that has flowers and squares on it with a white bandanna around his neck and his signature black skinny jeans. He runs his hand through his hair as he walks up to me, placing his hand on my waist and spinning me around slowly.

“You look amazing love,” he says, keeping his eyes glued onto my outfit. It's a simple black dress that hugs my body perfectly paired with red heels.

“Thanks, H, you don’t look too bad yourself.” I compliment him and a smirk begins to cross his face. He pulls me closer to him so our chests touch his hand pressing on the small of my back as mine falls onto his waist.

“What if we had my birthday dinner later this week? I don't think I want to leave,” he asks, leaning into me and I shake my head, putting my hand on his chest, and pushing him back.

“No way it was a bitch to get these reservations, later, promise,” I tell him and he groans, pulling away from me.

“Fine, let’s head out mums is about 20 minutes from here and another 20 to the restaurant,” he says and I nod, grabbing my purse and phone texting Anne that we are leaving. When we arrive Harry pulls into the driveway turning off the car.

“Come in, I'm sure your mum wants to talk for a second while I get what I need,” I tell him and he nods, opening his door. We walk to the door, his arm slung around my waist and I open the door pushing him in front of me.

“Surprise!” yelled everyone and Harry stands shocked looking between everyone and then back at me.

“You didn’t.” he smiles, turning to face me.

“I did.” I smile back at him and he lets out a breath pulling me into a hug.

“Thank you so much.” he squeezes me tight and I mumble anything for you into his shoulder. The party starts and Harry goes around greeting his friends as I deal with making drinks and catching up with other people.

A while passes and I haven’t seen Harry in a bit so I wander from the kitchen to the living room. I stop by the doorway when I hear my name, seeing Harry on the couch with a beer in his hand as he talks with some guys we went to school with as well as his band members. I lean away from the doorway so I'm out of sight.

“I still can’t believe you’re with y/n! Just imagine if that bet never took place we wouldn’t be here right now.” I recognize the voice as Michaels and I hear Harry chuckle in response.

“Yeah you’re right, I never would’ve thought I’d be here now.”

“What bet are you talking about?” Louis speaks up and I lean closer to listen. My heart beats faster as the silence is prolonged.

“At the beginning of year 9, I made a bet with Styles that he wouldn’t be able to get with the “weird girl” in our year by the end of GCSEs, and all of a sudden by the end of December they were best friends. You technically still lost though cause you never hooked up with her by the end of GCSE’s.” Michael explains and I feel my heart drop.

I back away from the doorway as my hand is placed on my mouth to cover the sharp breaths trying to escape me. I slowly place my drink on the table in the hallway as Gemma comes up to me, startled by the way I'm acting. I shake my head, heading towards the stairs going into the bathroom, and locking myself in there. I try to hold the tears back but a couple slip out as I begin to rethink everything.

I was just a bet?

I was so confused when Harry came up to me that first day and sat with me and we ate and talked and as the days passed I felt a connection with him.

Was any of it real?

A knock at the door breaks me out of my thoughts and I hear Harry asking if I'm alright. I sniffled a bit, wiping my eyes and face clean of the tears and I put on a smile opening the door.

“Yeah I'm fine, just felt a bit ill for a second but I'm okay now.” I smile at him and he looks me up and down trying to read me. I keep my fake smile plastered on my face and he finally nods leaning in to kiss my cheek. I push in front of him and his lips skim my cheek making an excuse that I have to go back down to the party and help Anne with something. I make my way to the kitchen. With each step, I feel my heart crumble a bit more.

“Hey Anne, can I ask you a question?” I lean against the counter close to her and she turns to face me, her contagious smile beaming.

“Of course my love, anything at all!”

“What are you supposed to do when you find out someone close to you has been lying about something for a long time?” she stops cutting the food she was preparing, places the knife down, and turns to me.

“You found out didn’t you love?” she asks me and the last bit of my heart that was standing crumbles.

“You knew?” my voice cracks as my eyes well up with tears.

“I did sweetie. He was talking to one of his friends about it around the beginning of it and I gave him a lecture and told him to tell you immediately but he refused to say anything because he didn’t want to risk losing you. I'm so sorry you had to find out this way sweetheart.” Anne explains and I drop my head letting my tears fall.

“Oh come here love.” she pulls me into her chest and I let the sobs rip out of my chest.

“Why?” I ask. I know she doesn’t have an answer and she just holds me closer.

“What’s going on?” I hear Harry and soon feel his arms on my shoulders and I immediately tense.

“She's not feeling well at all honey, I think you should take her back home.” Anne saves me from talking and I hear him mutter an okay telling his mum to tell everyone we're sorry for leaving early as he pulls me out of her grip heading for the door. He gets me in the car and I keep sobbing as he tries to comfort me but it’s not comforting me.

It's hurting me.

He eventually gets me back into our room and I just sit on the bed as he kneels in front of me rubbing my knees as he tries to get me to talk.

“Baby you have to tell me what’s hurting or what’s wrong so I can help you.” He continues to try and help and I shake my head.

“You lied to me.” I make out in between sobs and I feel his hands tense on my thighs. “You lied to me about everything.” I lift my head from my lap making eye contact with him and he shakes his head.

“No baby I didn’t lie to you my love.” he tries to defend himself and I remove his hands from me as I stand up from the bed.

“Stop lying to me!” I scream pointing at him as I walk away from him leaving just the bed between us.

“What have I been lying to you about? Please tell me!” he raises his voice and I throw my hand up pointing between us.

“Everything! The reason why you even became friends with me! It wasn’t because you thought I was interesting or “cool” it was because of a fucking bet!” I tell him and his face drops.

“How do you know about that?” he asks me and I let out a bitter laugh.

“I went to go find you and heard you talking to Michael and when I went upstairs I assume Gemma sent you because she passed by me as I was holding back fucking tears and after I found your mum she just confirmed everything that was said and that’s when you walked in.” I ramble, the tears starting to dry, my sadness slowly being replaced by anger.

“You have to know as soon as we started becoming better friends I called off the bet! Michael didn’t accept it but it wasn’t a bet to me anymore I promise!” Harry runs his hand through his hair, tears starting to well up in his eyes and I lose it.

“No! You don’t get to fucking cry Harry!” “You have been with me countless times when guys were only with me to fucking use me! You were there picking up the pieces and you never once fucking thought to come clean with me! Our entire friendship was built on the fucking fact that you were just making your way up the ladder to sleep with me!” I scream at him as I take a deep breath.

“Sure I would’ve been fucking mad at you in the beginning but maybe I would’ve gotten over it real quick right now I don’t think I can because all I can think about is if any of this is real!”

“It is real! I promise y/n! I will call Michael right now and have him tell you exactly what I told him when I called it off, everything has been real I swear!” he continues to try to explain but I let out a sad chuckle shaking my head.

“Your promises don’t mean anything because I don’t trust you, Harry,” I whisper his eyes connect to mine and his tears begin to fall.

“Please y/n how can I make it up to you? I will do anything to fix this. Please.” he begs me and I shrug my shoulders.

“I don’t know if you can fix this, Harry.” I whisper and he begins to walk towards me but I hold my hand up stopping him. “I’m going to go change just please leave me alone,'' I tell him and he nods his head.

I walk into the bathroom after grabbing a pair of pajamas and let the tears fall freely as I wipe away the ruined makeup and think back to all the memories in the front of my head. When I walk out he’s still in his clothes sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. I clear my throat and his head shoots towards me as he stands up.

“Your birthday present is under the bed. I'm going to the guest room. Happy birthday Harry.” I send him a small smile, grabbing my phone and leaving the room as he stands still watching me walk out the door. I lay in the guest bedroom letting myself cry until I couldn’t anymore.

As my eyes closed and the sun rose, the light from the sun shone through the cracks, but not the cracks of the window, the cracks in the darkness of my heart.

The cracks he made.

the

Harry’s POV:

I stand frozen as she walks out of our room. My heart seizes with every step she takes farther from me. It was never meant to go this far. It was a stupid fucking bet that meant absolutely nothing to me once we became friends. I drop down onto my knees lifting the duvet, seeing a pale blue box tucked carefully under the bed.

I pull it towards me sitting back on my knees as I admire her handwriting on the box. “It was no ordinary friendship. We were inseparable, constantly being separated. I’ve realized that no matter where you are or who you’re with, I will always truly, completely love you.”

My heart drops more as I open the box and look through all the mementos and photos of us throughout the years. I’ve royally fucked up big time. That night I slept on the floor of our bedroom, feeling the guilt of my actions coursing through my body.

I spent all day trying to figure out if there was anything I could do to fix the wounds I'd made but nothing seemed to work. There's a light knock on the bedroom door and when I look up I see y/n walking through.

“We need to talk,” she says, shutting the door behind her. Her cheeks are puffy, her eyes are red and swollen, and she’s been tearing herself apart. It hurts even worse knowing I'm the reason for her pain.

“I don't know what I want anymore Harry. I need space and time to think things through.” She speaks up, ripping off the bandaid of where our relationship stands. My heart crumbles just a little more but I nod my head because this is her decision and I'm not going to fight her.

“I’m going to go stay at my mum’s for a little bit, once I get through all these fucking thoughts in my head and can tell you what I want I’ll come back, but right now, I can’t be here, I can’t be with you.” her voice wobbles and my throat tightens as tears well in my eyes.

I nod my head once again, unable to form words. She packs her bags and by nightfall, she is ready to leave. I follow her downstairs and once she makes it to the front door I stand frozen at the bottom of the staircase.

“y/n.” I speak up and she looks up at me, her grip tightening on her suitcase.

“Please take your time. Don’t worry about me, make the decision for yourself. I will support whatever you decide.” I tell her and she nods her head giving me one last look before she walks out of the door.

And just like that the moon split in half and the stars crumbled, falling like fireworks into the sea, I watched my world fall apart the day my love left me.

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles and y/n #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #prince hair harry

[sexualtensiongrowing21]

Letter from a loved one // T.N //

Theodore Nott X Reader

TW: angst?

Word Count: 842

Today has gone by eerily slowly.

Classes have dragged on, the meals were too short. It's as if there's this underlying feeling of dread that is just floating in the air. Contaminating everyone in the castle. Even Peeves has been uncharastically rude. I have barely seen any of my friends and when I did, they were in a bad mood. Hell, even I was in a bad mood. After a long day, such as today, all I want to do is climb into bed with Theo and sleep until tomorrow, but with him nowhere to be found I must find solace alone.

Theo has been secretive all year. Disappearing for hours, even days, at a time. Telling me not to worry, that in the end everything will be okay. How can I not worry when my boyfriend of two years is missing constantly and keeping secrets from me?

The common room is as gloomy as the rest of the castle. Like everyone is waiting for something terrible to happen. When I finally make it to my dorm it is devoid of life, except for Pansy. Who looks to be on her way out.

“ Y/N.” She mumbles quietly. Stopping when she walks past me and is standing in the doorway. “I almost forgot, Theo stopped by, said he couldn't stay but he left a letter for you. I put it on your bed.” She tells me before giving me a weak smile, in which I give a similar one in return. She then turns walking out of the dorm leaving me alone, once again.

With shaky legs I sit on the bed, slowly grab the letter, pausing to admire the perfect script in which Theo wrote my name. I have always loved watching him write. There is something about the way his longer fingers wrap around his quill and guide the writing utensil with such precision, that makes me feel all warm inside.

Though, that's just Theo. He may seem cold, hard and sarcastic to everyone else, but to me he is the most caring and loving person I have ever met. He's the only person I ever told about my family. How they were killed and I was left to live with my aunt. He's been a constant light in my life ever since.

Taking a deep breath I unclasp the wax seal from the letter and open it. I read over the letter carefully, as my eyes welled up with tears. An overwhelming sadness courses through me as I try to understand the words that are written in front of me.

The tears are flowing freely now as I stand up on unsteady legs, letter still in hand, with every intention of searching for the brunette boy who stole my heart, and inevitably broke it into pieces. Before I can make it to the door I collapse in a heap of tears and heavy breathing, feeling as if the world is caving in on me, praying this is all some sick joke.

But knowing, for now at least, he's gone. I’m officially all alone.

Masterlist

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