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fishnets-fingers · 1 year

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Forbidden Hours

“Sounds like someone’s projecting,” he says, voice laced with honey.

“I’m not projecting anything.”

“Sounds like what you’re saying is that you’re jealous that I have the confidence to partake in intercourse and you’re a bumbling virgin-“

“I’ve read all of the volumes of the Kamasutra. I know my way around when I need to engage in coitus for reproduction,” she cuts him off.

“Oh, sweet sweet Princess,” he whispers, using her title condescendingly. “Sex is more than just reproduction.” He strides towards her.

PAIRING - spy!harry x princess!y/n

a/n - happy first day of 2023! this is my first time writing historical fiction. it’s loosely inspired by a movie, particularly this scene. it’s not historically accurate in the slightest. you can read more about the chola dynasty here. don’t know how many parts this would have but i’m hoping to write more of these two’s dynamic. if you have any ideas, let me know. as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome. happy reading!

Word Count - 4.2k (not proofread)

MASTERPOST | PART TWO

….

நிழல். Shadow. That was his nickname among the royal heirs. He was quiet, swift, inconspicuous, and nimble - camouflaging himself in vast rooms and gathering intel. There wasn’t a room in the kingdom he couldn’t weasel himself in; whether that be up on the roof, scaling walls, or hidden in the dark - where candle lights don’t flicker.

Growing up as the son of a British sea merchant, Harry learned that there wasn’t much for a young boy to do in the cramped quarters of the ship. He’d lost his mother the moment he took his first breath. There wasn’t a lot of maternal warmth in his life but that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t loved. He was loved in a different way, his father kept him close during the wuthering nights at sea often pointing out constellations in the night sky to remind him that life had far more in store for him than the fervent passing waves of the sea. But he was also a man that did not believe in making mistakes, so whenever Harry got in trouble, he was asked to scrub the deck floor clean until his hands bled. He learnt his way around a sword from the crewmen. Travelling to different ports of the world also meant learning different forms of combat and gathering information from people of different cultures. Stewing in a ship with ten men for months meant no entertainment, so he began sifting for stories and used their weakness and strengths against them to gain favours.

He docked on Chozhamandalam when he was twenty and was greeted with a red swallowtail flag with a pouncing tiger on it. He grew to love the people of Kaveripattinam - the bustle of the markets, the chortle of the children running about, the welcoming people, and the way art was particularly celebrated in this small port town, and the princess he set his sights on his third day of being docked there. He’s heard of royalty. Lots of royalty. Cruel rulers. Compassionate rulers. Ostentatious rulers. Modest rulers. Heard. But he’s never seen one in the flesh. Until that day.

A crowd gathered near the temple, murmurs of visiting royals spread like wildfire, and when he’d caught wind of it, he couldn’t resist. Ten soldiers walked first clearing the path, two on horses and sheathed swords followed, then came ten men bearing the weight of a palanquin. It wasn’t an ordinary palanquin, this particular one was grandiose, shimmering in gold and stained glass but the insides were draped in silk to obstruct the view of the onlookers. The Queen Mother exited first, greeting the townspeople and that’s when Harry saw her - the Princess Regnant, the one third in line to the throne. He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the way her lips curled up in an inviting smile. Harry has seen many a sight in his life but none would compare to the way the royal blue silk saree draped around her body made her skin shimmer; it reminded him of how the first light of the sun would glint and glimmer on the steady ocean water. Her eyes were dark, like the deepest part of the sea where light does not enter. She was adorned in gold, hair piled up into a tall bun that was decorated with jasmine flowers. Their temple visit was brief, the Princess joined her grandmother thanking people for their well wishes before being escorted into the temple premises. It was her eighteenth birthday, so a feast was prepared for everyone in town. As the crowd dissipated to head to the town hall for the royal lunch, Harry lingered wanting to catch sight of the Princess again. He managed to climb a peepal tree that towered over the south entrance of the temple. He saw her again, only this time being told off by the guard as she tried to reach over to pluck a blooming lotus from the temple pond. She huffed in response settling down on the step, so the water lapped at her feet, guiding a tadpole trapped in a water bubble on the lotus pad back into the water.

Three years later, he’d made himself a name in the kingdom. His path stumbled with the Crown Prince a month after arriving. He soon became his confidant, even earning a spot in his army. The Crown Prince, Vikram, was a skilled warrior often going off on conquests under the King’s orders to further expand the country. The youngest Prince, Karthi, was sent to the island of Lanka to study apothecary and healing. And the middle heir, Princess Y/N, was known for her wisdom and strategic wit. She often presided in important meetings with the King and his counsel and implemented many strategies that helped triple the wealth of the dynasty and the well-being of the people. The first battle Harry rode alongside the Crown Prince, he was tasked with bringing home a note sent by the prince to his father detailing his plans on the war spoils to the King. Harry was entrusted with carrying secrets and messages to royalty and trusted members of the Crown. His knack of gathering information also came in handy and now was a spy for the royal heirs three years later.

Soon enough the nickname Shadow was bestowed upon him by Prince Karthi. There wasn’t a single room he couldn’t get into - even the castle. But the tower he was currently scaling was one he never had before - Princess Y/N’s chamber. It was forbidden to talk to her without supervision but in the dark of the night, he supposed it did not matter. His job description came with breaking rules and this particular information needed for her to be in the know sans protocols.

He hitched his leg up over the stone bannister and lurched his torso up to the terrace. Princess Y/N’s tower was away from the main dome of the royal vacation castle and he chalked it up for safety but now standing at her balcony, he understands why. The view was unbelievable - the vast expanse of the ocean was at his feet, calm waters painted silver with the full moon; it also overlooked her personal garden filled with coral jasmine, hibiscus, marigolds, and wildflowers. The ocean breeze carried over the fragrance of the flora straight to her room. It was well known that the princess was an avid gardener; he heard through the grapevine that oftentimes she’d sketch out the garden’s landscape plans and sometimes even join the workers to tend to the flower beds. Princes who came to court her from neighbouring territories would almost always bring a sapling of a flowering plant to gain affection.

One could get used to the view, he thinks, as he leans against the bannister one more time - the sounds of tides crashing over the shore soothe his nerves from his climb up. Being born with the golden spoon ain’t that bad. If the burden of duty came with such lavish living quarters, someone sign me the fuck up, Harry takes in the scenery before him before pushing off from it. His body instinctively makes his way to her, like a moth being drawn to a frame, or in this case a spy being drawn to the lavish canopy bed bathed in the buttery glow of candlelight. He stops in his tracks for the second time by the sight of her, not by the opulent beauty that she radiated when he first laid eyes on her but with fondness.

It’s not the Princess Regnant who’s fast asleep on her bed but Y/N. The same Y/N who bristles every time he’s in the room with her siblings. The same Y/N who straightens up her back and holds her chin up high when he cracks a joke to try and force a smile on her face.The same Y/N who looks away when he catches her eyeing him up as he hands over the sealed scroll sent by one of her brothers. It’s almost as if Harry is seeing her for the first time without any filters - except for the sheer white netted fabric that hangs around. She looks small without all the jewellery and silks. Hair raven and straight and long - longer than what he had anticipated - now that her hair has not been pinned up in a bun or bushed away from her face with intricate braids. She looks vulnerable - almost her age - a twenty one year old with a bare face that is not made up immaculately. She has dark circles under her eyes, and Harry deduces that it’s from reading all the books she has strewn over - opened - beside her on the satin sheets. Her lips are curled downwards; she frowns in her sleep and Harry has to try and fight the urge to reach over and smooth out the crinkle between her eyebrows.

He clears his throat, hoping she’ll wake up before he ends up touching her and landing himself in prison. She twitches in response, her steady deep breaths interrupted by a sharp inhale. He clears his throat again, louder this time, followed by, “Your royal highness.”

Y/N’s eyes flutter open, and she jolts up when she sees a tall figure standing beside her. “Who?” She asks, voice hoarse, eyes darting up over his broad chest.

“It’s me, Princess Y/N,” Harry answers.

“Mr. Styles.” Hand coming over to rub the sleep from her eye. “What are you doing here? In my chamber? You’re not allowed,” she states.

“I apologise, your majesty. I’ve been riding for five hours, ma’am. From the estate in the hills. Couldn’t risk having someone overhearing this for the sake of protocol,” he explains.

“So, was I right?” Y/N questions, shuffling out of her bed. Harry moves behind so she has the space to stand upright. “Are the governors convening?”

She gets no reply, making her flit her eyes up at his jade embers to find him staring at her body. Harry could make out the full curves of her breasts and hips with the flimsy white gown Y/N was wearing. Her nipples pebbled from the cold winds from the sea and peaks out the cotton fabric. She rolls her eyes, and snaps her fingers in front of his face to catch his attention. “I could have your eyes gouged out this instant, Harry Edward Styles! There are guards on the other side of this door.”

“Apologies, Princ-“

“You’re full of apologies tonight, aren’t you?” Y/N folds her arms, shielding her chest from his gaze.

“Sorry, Prin-“

Y/N laughs. “It’s far too late for formalities, Mr. Styles. Plus, they only apply to people who follow protocols and walk in through there,” she cocks her head to the carved wooden door. Considering you broke into my room by climbing my balcony, I reckon you can give it a rest. Call me Y/N.”

“Yes,” Harry nods. “Y/N,” he adds. Testing out the way her name rolls out of his mouth. He can’t help the way his dimples carve in his cheeks as the corner of his lips tug upward. I like it, he decides. He likes the way saying her name feels on his tongue, it’s rich and velvety and he wants to keep saying it again and again. “Please call me Harry.”

“Harry, tell me what you saw. Don’t leave out any details,” she orders, walking over to her desk.

Fucking shit, Harry shakes his head. How was he supposed to concentrate when the candles she was lighting only made the silhouette of her body more prominent. She could clearly see the swell of her bum and he’ll bet his entire fortune that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath other than that flimsy gown. He shamelessly lets his eyes rake up over her and his heart flutters when he meets her expenatant eyes, quill hovering over a parchment, urging him to vomit out what he knows.

“Yes. The Hill estate,” he clears his throat. “You’re right. Five governors held a secret meeting at midnight at the Bull temple. You know, the one that was destroyed last monsoon by a landslide.”

Y/N scoffs and lets out a chuckle of disbelief. “Of course, they pick the most obvious spot. Were you able to get a good look at who these governors are?”

“Yes. Do you want me to list them out?”

“Please,” she says, writing down each of the names that Harry listed. He walks closer to where she was hunched over, writing. Harry’s not surprised to see the elegance in her script.

“Impressive. Nice handwriting,” he comments.

“Hardly something to be impressed by, Harry.”

“Well, Y/N, it’s better than mine.”

“If you had tutors from all over the world, I’m sure your script will look just as impressive,” she adds.

“Of course.” He nods. “The meeting. The governors are unhappy with the decree to build schools using the tax money they’re collecting.”

“Of course they are,” she mumbles. “They’re all for taxes when they can use it to fatten themselves up but ask them to spend it on the children of their districts, they are suddenly unhappy with the new system implemented.”

“That’s not all.” Harry opens a silver box and pops a date into his mouth.

“Help yourself,” Y/N comments, shaking her head at his lack of etiquette. Harry’s face flushes with pink and he can feel the tips of his ears getting hot.

“It’s a long journey back here,” he tells her, avoiding her eyes in embarrassment and on cue his stomach rumbles.

Y/N eyes soften. “There are fruits in the basket. And here.” She walks over pulling out a glass jar filled with jujubes from the drawer by her bedside and brings it over to him.

“You have gummies in your drawer,” he notes, smirking at the half eaten jar of sugar coated coloured candy.

“I have a bit of a sweet tooth,” she tells him with a shy smile. He props himself on the table and she makes her way to her desk, watching him eat.

“Harry,” she calls out. “You said that’s not all,” she prompts.

“Your Uncle was there,” he tells her quietly, not wanting anyone to hear.

“My Uncle?” She asks, alarmed. “Can’t be.”

“I saw him, Y/N. He came in shrouded in a black cloak. He’s sired an offspring he said. Claimed that his son had a right to the throne. That’s as much as what was said before they dispersed.”

“You’re positive?”

“Are you implying that I’m being dishonest?”

“I’m not implying anything,” Y/N snaps. “I just want you to be sure.”

“I saw him with my own two eyes, Y/N. I was taken aback too. Both Princes speak of him fondly.”

“Seems like there’s a conspiracy afoot,” Y/N says, almost to herself.

“I’ll let Prince Vikaram know immediately,” he informs.

“Don’t. He’s hot headed. God knows he’ll come charging to the capital and stick a knife in my Uncle’s throat. I’ll take care of it myself.”

“What are you going to do?”

“That’s below your pay grade, spy. I’ll handle this myself. I’m heading to the capital tomorrow for a meeting with my father and the court. How long would it take for you to sail to Lanka alone?”

“Almost a week,” Harry answers.

“Okay. I want you to set sail to Lanka five days from now. I’ll have a scroll delivered to you at noon by the docks. Hand it over to Karthi. Father will want him back in the capital. Keep mum about this and you’ll be rewarded handsomely.”

Harry nods. “Don’t want gold coins this time. I want a house. Close to the sea. One with space for a yard.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I’ll set sail five days from now to Lanka. It’ll also be nice to pay the old man a visit too.”

“Your father’s there?”

Harry nods.

“How is Merchant Styles? I heard he’s retired” Y/N asks.

“He took to Buddhist teachings. Become a proper monk now,” Harry chuckles.

Y/N laughs, one that’s laced with mockery.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asks, standing up abandoning the food.

“Nothing,” she gets out between peels of laughter, wiping her the tears that threaten to spill.

“With all due respect, Princess. Spit it the fuck out,” he huffs out in annoyance.

“It’s just funny. Your father practises a faith that preaches restraint of the senses as one of its precepts and then there’s you.” She bites down on her bottom lip to stop herself from breaking out into a fit of laughter.

“I don’t quite follow,” he crosses her arms.

“Of course you don’t,” she chuckles, straightening up and tilting her chin up.

“You always do that,” he points out. “Pretend you're better than me. It’s obvious you hate me when I’ve been nothing but friendly.”

“You’re not my friend. You’re Vikram’s friend. And Karthi’s. I don’t know you. And I know for a fact that I’m better than you,” YN's eyebrow raises in arrogance.

“What makes you so sure?” Harry takes a step towards her.

“Because, Harry Styles, you’re the proverbial whore of the town. I don’t go around screwing everything with a pulse,” she smiles arrogantly at him.

“How did you come upon this piece of information?” He asks her.

“News travels fast, especially with handmaidens. So, that’s why it’s funny. Your father practises self-restraint and you are on a mission to contract a venereal disease.”

“Sounds like someone’s projecting,” he says, voice laced with honey.

“I’m not projecting anything.”

“Sounds like what you’re saying is that you’re jealous that I have the confidence to partake in intercourse and you’re a bumbling virgin-“

“I’ve read all of the volumes of the Kamasutra. I know my way around when I need to engage in coitus for reproduction,” she cuts him off.

“Oh, sweet sweet Princess,” he whispers, using her title condescendingly. “Sex is more than just reproduction.” He strides towards her.

“It is. That’s what the textbook says: It's a womanly duty to service the man and bear his children. It’s sacred,” she insists, taking a step back.

“I’m surprised for someone with such progressive morals… Your view on pleasure seems archaic,” he takes a step toward her again.

“Books do not lie, spy. They have the whole truth.” She steps back again, bumping into the edge of her teakwood desk, trapping herself.

“What do your precious books say about the way your body sparkles when you reach a satisfying end?” He goads, taking a final step forward and invading her personal space.

“You are forbidden to come this close to me, Harry.” Y/N reminds him in futility. Feeling his hard chest against her, thighs rubbing up against him, she can feel his hard muscles straining against her and his warmth radiate, crawling its way into her skin.

“Call out to the guards then,” he reminds her, dropping his head down to nose at her temple.

“I will,” her voice is feeble. “You’ll be cut into pieces and thrown in the ocean.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he smirks, as his lips circuit down the shell of her ear. “I don’t see you telling me to stop.” His tongue laves at her lobe, teeth coming to clamp down gently and tug.

Y/N squeaks feeling his action go down straight to her core. “I know how to defend myself.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second.” He stops, pulling back to look at her. “You don’t need to fight me,” his voice rings with sincerity. “Just tell me to stop and I will, Y/N.” He looks at her, searching her face for an answer.

“What else?” She murmurs, after a few moments, looking up into his eyes.

“Hmm?”

“What else? Things that haven’t been mentioned in books,” she clarifies.

His eyes shine with mischief as he simpers, dimples dazzling. “Where do I start, Y/N…” he trails off, fully pressing himself against her chest. God, she’s so responsive, he marvels at the way her chest heaves against his, heart stammering a staccato against his own racing heart. She’s soft and warm and she smells heavenly. His lips find its way to the base of her jaw, dragging up and leaving open mouth kisses on her smooth skin. “When you find someone desirable, you feel the heat pool in your belly and spread like wildfire across every nerve ending of your body.” He kisses her cheek, a hand going to intertwine with hers.

“Have you felt that?” He asks, feeling hot puffs of her breath against his neck. Y/N shakes her head. “It’s not very noble to lie, Princess,” he whispers, lips moving against the column of her throat. “I see the way you fuck me with your eyes.”

“I do not-“ her voice cuts off as Harry suckles on her jugular, feeling her hammering pulse underneath his lips. She lets out a whimper that goes straight to his fattening cock. Y/N’s mouth falls open dragging in breaths of fresh air, her free hand bracing against the desk to hold herself upright. “I do not fuck you with my eyes.”

“Really?” He says popping off, his calloused fingers come to caress the agitated spot. He was careful not to leave a hickey but he loved the way her skin turned a baby pink in response to his ministrations. “I guess I must have imagined all those times you looked me up and down?”

“I guess you did, Harry,” her chest heaves as she tries to maintain composure. It wasn’t right to be doing this with Harry. It wasn’t right to be doing this with anyone outside the sanctity of a marital bed but it’s exhilarating, breaking rules. She’s not sure if it’s Harry or it’s just the thrill of doing something that might get her in trouble with her parents. They trust her. Trusted her enough to let her move out of the capital and to the port town with her grandmother because she wishes to live by the beach. And here she was enjoying herself with a plebian. A foreigner. A spy. She met him when she was eighteen as her brother’s friend and he was handsome. Chocolate brown curls, smatter of freckles on the bridge of his nose, a perfect smile, dimples, and an alluring set of mossy green irises. She’s heard stories and rumours of his sexual escapades and as much as she detested hearing those stories, she detested the fact that she’s been comparing the princes who had come to ask for her hand in marriage to him. But all she could think of was how strong his arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer to him.

“Stubborn,” he smirks up. “See what you do to me?” He presses his hard cock against her pelvic bone, watching the way her eyes darken as she realises, the sight smirk of hers doesn't go unnoticed by him. “You’ve been driving me insane since the day I saw you on your eighteenth birthday. Went back to my quarters and touched myself to the thought of you,” he confesses. “You’ve been in my dreams ever since.” He cups her cheek, thumb moving back and forth across her lips.

“Are you going to kiss me, Harry?” She asks, looking up at him.

“Have you kissed anyone before?” He questions.

She shakes her head. “My handmaidens have kissed the people who were courting them. They told me how to do it and helped me practise on fruit.”

“That so?” He smiles, lips ghosting her Cupid’s bow. “You know kissing is pretty easy, Y/N,” he declares. “But it’s also powerful” he tells her, lips moving against hers. “‘A kiss may ruin a human life.’”

“Oscar Wilde,” she says, recognising his quote, surprised by his knowledge of poetry. She gets on her toes, pulling her intertwined hand out of Harry’s, and running it down his chest, she can feel the way his muscles ripple underneath the fabric of his shirt. Her chest heaves, belly clenching in anticipation as he lowers tilts his head to the side, noses squished and her mouth opens in anticipation.

He presses his forehead against hers savouring the moment. “And I’m sure that if I start kissing you now, Princess… I might never be able to stop,” he tells her, breathing in her intoxicating sweet floral scent. He concedes by kissing her eyelids and he’s fighting the urge to not run his hands down her body and up her thighs to see if she’s wet for him, but he steps away wanting to be respectful.

Y/N can’t hide the disappointment in her face when backs away from her. His hands come to cup her cheeks, smearing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Never met anyone who has me on a chokehold, Y/N,” he confesses. “I shall bid my goodbye.” He brings her hand to his mouth and kisses her palm, pressing it to his cheek.

“See you Harry,” she smiles. “You’ll be given the scroll at the docks at noon five days from now,” she informs, standing upright; snapping back into the person she was before being pushed up against the desk by Harry.

“Princess Y/N,” he bows, popping a piece of jujube in his mouth before making his way to her balcony. He gives her a salute one last time before climbing down the tower during forbidden hours, like he always does. But this time, he’s rappelling down the side of the stone structure with butterflies in his tummy.

part two

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green-typewriterz · 6 months

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Lilacs and Forget me nots

Part two

Harry Styles x princess!reader

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

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

Warnings: none???

word count: 1645

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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avalentina · 3 months

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My newest fic, this one will most likely end up being published as a series. For now it is in my Harry Styles page on my Masterlist. I'm not sure how long it will be, and I'm still working on the story itself so it might be a bit before I post more, but the poll showed that about 2/3 of you wanted it now. So without further ado ...

Word count: 4,074

Warnings: bits of anxiety, depression, feeling overwhelmed; Robin Twist's death, grief; unnamed douchebags who want you for your money and title

Noble!Harry (Peerage!Harry) x Princess!Y/N

Note: This story features certain words in multiple languages mainly traditional Chinese, but I have put the English word or phrase in parentheses directly after the translated word or phrase.

Ex: Mǔqīn (Mother)

The Princess's Lover

Zero: Enchanted Love

(any and all pictures are not mine, all I do is collage them, pictures of Harry are a reference for his appearance during the specific moment, all other pictures are only for the purpose of an outfit/hairstyle/accessory, Y/N can look however you would like her to)

I remember the day as though it was just yesterday. Hard to believe it was closer to five years ago now.

(FLASHBACK)

I was at yet another ball, sometimes it feels like my parents, the King and Queen of MiraZhou, host one every week. I'm 19 year old Princess Y/N, the only girl to graduate from my private high school without ever being kissed. I've had a few offers for courtship, none of which I've accepted, all of them just a family's desperate attempt to increase their wealth, status, and favor in the eyes of my parents. I'm being the perfect princess, as I usually tend to be. I've never found anything I wanted to rebel for, I mean I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have more choice in my life, but I guess you could say I'm terrified to actually find out what that would really entail.

This ball tonight was a masquerade, not that it actually made a difference in my case, seeing as I’m stuck wearing a tiara. The one I'm wearing may be my second favorite tiara, and my favorite formal tiara, but it does a wonderful job at making it known exactly who I am. For that reason, I've actually been trying to avoid talking to anyone at tonight’s ball.

It’s not until I’m summoned to my parents’ side for the formal ‘thank you for hosting’ part of the night that my care for this particular event heightens. My family knows everyone in our court based on their voices alone. As a family of four gets to the front of the line. I recognize the voices as Duke Desmond, Duchess Anne, and Lady Gemma of Duchy Holmeshire, but it’s their son that I can’t say I’m familiar with. As they make their approach, I catch eyes with him, the soft green of them is mesmerizing, I feel as though I could get lost in them and just be happy.

“And I see Lord Harry has returned from University, Cambridge in England correct?” My father asks Lord Harry directly.

“Yes, your majesty, uh sir.” Lord Harry replies, fumbling his words slightly probably to do with being away for so long, but he has an english accent that he must’ve developed during his time abroad, and it definitely suits him well.

“It’s good to have you back in MiraZhou Lord Harry.” My mother says, offering him a gracious smile. “I don’t believe you’ve formally met Princess Y/N?” she adds.

“I have not, It’s a pleasure to formally meet you, your highness.” Harry says to me as we make eye contact again and he does another short bow.

I can’t help the wide smile that appears on my face as I return the introduction. “Likewise Lord Harry,” I say and offer him my hand to kiss. A gesture I don’t give out lightly, and you can tell that by the tiny gasp that slips out of my mother’s mouth before she stifles it, and the way Duchess Anne’s smile grows a tad bit wider.

As the Styles family of Holmeshire takes their leave so the next group of nobles can greet us, Harry and I caught eyes one more time and I mouthed silently ‘bye’ with yet another wide smile.

After the “thank you’s” were over, my mother and father turned to each other. I heard my mother tell my father, “I’ll invite them to the palace for dinner one day next week.” I smiled to myself and excused myself for a brief restroom break, that I spent staring at where Harry had kissed my hand, remembering the softness of his lips, and how I really hope he didn’t have any other potential matches. Harry and I didn’t get another chance to talk that night, but we always seemed to be catching each other’s eyes, even from across the large ballroom.

“Y/N, darling, the Duke and Duchess of Holmeshire will be joining us for dinner tomorrow night.” My mother said at breakfast that following Tuesday morning. My attention perked up at that.

“Are Lady Gemma and Lord Harry joining them?” I asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Not this time, but they both will be joining their parents here for dinner on Thursday night.” She said with a smile that I returned. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up about a courtship dear. Tomorrow night will allow your father and I to find out about Lord Harry’s current status, and any potential matches he may already have.”

“I know Mǔqīn (Mother), thank you, and I apologize for my obvious reaction, I’ll work on those some more.” I say, apologizing.

“Xiǎo jiāhuo (little one), we're happy you're actually excited about a possible courtship. I saw the way you lit up that night, it reminded me of how happy the first few conversations I had with your mother made me. Which is why you, Lizabeth, and Helena will be having dinner in the slumber party suite you used to enjoy. That way we can shield you from whatever potential hurt there may possibly be.” Father adds to mother's comment.

“And darling, your expressions are wonderful, a princess should not be void of emotion, nor always show indifference, your emotion shows your honesty in that feeling and that is what makes you an amazing princess. Your manners and etiquette are exactly where they should be. True feeling is just as important as manners and etiquette. Now run along, you have classes to get to.” Mother finishes out our conversation. I love attending University, it's the only time I'm allowed to wear jogger pants and hoodies in public. With no makeup or tiara or heeled shoes. I am intentionally supposed to look unimportant, because it does help me blend in a little bit more and instead of eight guards I only have three, all dressed down to appear as students as well.

My midnight violet Lamborghini centenario topless with ‘gongzhu (princess)’ as the license plate is the closest resemblance to royalty I get. After my classes for the day are done, Creyton, who is my lead guard, and I head to my favorite nearby pizza truck for a slice each before we return to the palace. Our usual nearby chess table is taken today and when I look again, it's none other than Lord Harry and a friend of his playing while enjoying a slice as well.

I elect to take the table next to them which happens to be open. As Creyton and I begin our setup and start talking, Harry turns to me, having probably recognized my voice.

“Your highness, what brings you out into the city today?” He asks quietly, careful to avoid drawing attention to me. He turns to Creyton and offers a handshake.

“I attend university in the city, so classes, but my lead guard, Creyton here, and I usually stop for a slice or two and a few plays on a chessboard before heading back.” I say with a small smile.

“We really should be going Y/N.” Creyton comments, now that I've been ‘recognized’ we have to head straight back or risk breaking protocol, and I like having Creyton around too much to let him get fired for something as simple as a protocol violation.

“I'll see you at dinner on Thursday night H.” I say to him, not wanting to compromise his lunch either. With that I head back to my car. Creyton follows me closely and we met up with the other two members of my security team. They share a very brief ten to fifteen second report before we get into the cars and head back to the palace.

“Princess, you know you're not supposed to talk to anyone besides me during that time, and you're definitely not allowed to advertise my name and who I am.” Creyton says to me during the quiet drive back to the palace.

“I know, I'm sorry Creyton, I wasn't expecting Lord Harry to be there, let alone at our usual table. It won't happen again, and I fully understand any repercussions that arise.

Lizabeth and Helena were not the best of distraction that night. Especially considering all they talked about was Lord Harry's return from England, and how attractive he is.

“Ladies, please, his parents are downstairs having dinner with my parents.” I say aloud and both girls turn to me.

“He's here? Lord Harry is here? Y/N please you have to introduce us.” Lizabeth practically begs.

“He, is not here, just his parents, and I will consider introducing you after they find out if he's available for a match. And if he is, I've pretty much already got dibs, I hope. Did you two miss the candids of him kissing my hand and the wide, stupid smile on my face.”

“Oh my God, Y/N has a crush! It's about time.” Lizabeth squeals.

“And on that note, we promise to back off, but if he has any extremely attractive friends please promise to introduce us.” Helena states and I smile.

“I know he has at least one semi-attractive friend. But he definitely wasn't from here. His accent sounded way too Irish.” I said and they both just looked at me. “I’ll look into it, I promise, just not right now.” They both grumbled a bit, but agreed.

It was late Thursday morning when my mother and father both entered the study I use for my schoolwork. I have three different 20 page essays due next week so I decided to have one of the kitchen staff bring breakfast to my study. I just finished finalizing and submitting one, and was polishing the second when they knocked. I closed my laptop so I wouldn’t be distracted by my essay while they told me whatever it is they have to say.

“Look at you, working hard on your economics degree.” Father said, smiling proudly.

“But that’s not why we’re here Damien.” Mother interrupts before he can continue on that line of topic further. “We’re here because we thought you might want to know more about Lord Harry Styles before dinner tonight.” She continued.

“He is not currently courting anyone, and Duchess Anne mentioned that he asked her to help him get up to speed on where you’re at and what has been keeping you occupied lately.” Father said and I legit squealed. It felt like hundreds of thousands of butterflies were dancing in my stomach. “We figured that would be your reaction and wanted to make sure you had ample time to put your finest princess foot forward for dinner tonight. We’ve arranged a walk through the rose garden for the two of you before dinner starts. Lord Harry will be here at four, and dinner is at six.” He finished saying.

“So in girl terms, you might want to start getting ready now.” Mother added with a smile and I quickly excused myself and hugged them both before taking off towards my rooms at nearly a full sprint.

“Mel, Marie, Helga!” I hollered into the staff door from my entry room. Mel and Marie are my new ladies maids and Helga is assisting them in learning everything before she officially retires next month. The girls tie half of my hair up into a braid and a bun, and then curl the remaining pieces, I have a simple gold and diamond tiara, gold gladiator flats, and a one shoulder golden gown. I ended up on the gold because i knew it would reflect in the sun during our walk, and it’s also a color I’ve always loved wearing. Plus it’s proven to be a confidence booster, and I have a feeling i’m going to be in need of a lot of that tonight. Other than my title, I have no idea what I have going for me in regards to why I’d make a good match. Though I’d rather he like Y/N, rather than just Princess Y/N. I needed to be radiant tonight, for myself, although, who wouldn’t want to look golden?

At exactly 3:56 pm I make my way towards the main palace entrance, it’s a solid five minute walk from my rooms, and it usually takes guests anywhere between fifty and seventy-five seconds to go from the drive, up the stairs, and finally step inside the doors. Which means that if I timed this correctly he should be just stepping inside the doors as I step off the last step to get to the entry foyer.

I maintain my normal pace and arrive to the front entry in exactly five minutes. However when I get there, Harry is already waiting for me in a mostly black suit, a bit of gold on the shirt, and a black suede hat.

“My apologies Lord Harry, it took a bit longer to get ready than I had anticipated.” I said to him as soon as I had made my approach.

“Well, it was well worth the minute long wait, you look radiant your highness.” He says back with a bow. “Shall we?” He suggests and holds his arm out for me to take.

“You’ll have 12 feet of privacy.” My mother informs us as I take his arm and we depart. I wave a small goodbye to my mother and father before turning all of my focus onto my walk with Harry.

“You’re going to have to guide me, I’m afraid I have absolutely no idea where we’re supposed to be going.” He says with a small chuckle.

“I suppose, though getting lost does sometimes lead to finding something unique, fascinating, and totally unexpected. A left at the spiral hedge just up ahead.” I say.

“That’s true, it’s an adventure, that much is for sure.” He replies with a smile.

We walk in silence for a minute or so as we enter the rose garden. He pauses just before the first fountain.

“Why me?” He asks a few seconds after we stopped. He’s staring into my eyes and I can’t help but stare back. “My mum told me that you have a habit of turning down courtships, and being very selective about who you let kiss your hand, so why let me? I mean you could have your choice of princes from distant lands, lords with so much more wealth, and fame than myself, the male heirs of duchies that make mine look infintesimal.”

“I hope this isn’t awkward of me to say but to be honest, the first time we caught each other’s eyes, I felt like I could be lost in the soft green of them for eons and be happy for each second of that time. That’s not a feeling i’ve ever had before.” I say, he smiles and the way it lights up his entire being is pure magic. I can’t help but smile too. “It’s actually why I wore gold today, I knew I would struggle to say what I wanted to…”

“And you needed the confidence boost?” He finished my exact thought. I nodded and he smiled again. “Me too, I knew I would need it to even manage to say a word to you.” He continued as we started walking again. “I can't help but feel leagues below you.”

The conversation flowed so easily from there, it was one of the easiest conversations I've ever had. We talked about university, our degrees, our families, our childhoods, my dogs, our favorite books, movies, shows, anything and everything. As we approached the entrance again he paused one more time.

“I’d like to have another outing with you soon, and I also want to aopolgize for making you violate protocol in the park the other day.” He says to me, and I have never met someone who means everything so genuinely, who is so kind hearted, and it just feels almost right to be around him.

“I’d like that as well, and as far as the other day is concerned, that is my fault, I know not to engage with the public while undercover like that, I couldn’t stop myself though, because it was you and I wanted to have a conversation with you.” I say back, desperately hoping it’s not too much.

“May I?” he asks and begins to reach for my hand. I gladly let him take it and press his soft lips to it once again. I feel the blush rising in my cheeks, and I smile as he offers me his arm once again. We make our return in silence, just sharing smiles with each other.

Harry and I had about two outings each week for the next couple of months, but he still hadn’t asked for permission to court me. It was beginning to stress me out to the point where my parents took us down to one outing every other week. We would text in between, but I was still terrified that he would never ask me, that he didn’t see in me what I saw in him. The every other week outings turned into two outings over a three month period, the texts had stopped, and I was afraid that I was going to have to accept a courtship out of obligation rather than want. It might sound weird, but after almost seven months of knowing Lord Harry Styles, I was in love with him. I was in love with someone who didn’t even want to court me.

The Styles family joined us for dinner on a Monday night, and I was to tell Harry that a courtship was no longer an option, I was to be courting another Lord within the week. I was at least happy my parents agreed to let me tell him privately with a chaperone just twenty feet away.

When they arrived that night, something felt different between all of them, something had happened to them. I was dressed in a ruby red and gold Qipao with a gold plated ruby and diamond tiara, my hair was pulled back into a woven ponytail style with curls for volume. Harry was in all black except for his shoes which were a camel color, and his long hair was also pulled back. It was the first time I had seen it that way, and it was definitely doing something for me, no matter how much I wished it hadn’t. When he finally removed his sunglasses for dinner, I had initially wondered why he was wearing them in the first place, but I saw firsthand why, when he politely removed them before dinner. His normally bright, soft green eyes were slightly puffy, he had definitely been crying.

Dinner was terribly quiet, no one felt like talking, Harry seemed to be trying to avoid eye contact with me and it felt like everything was seriously ending. I excused myself for a few moments which I used to try and compose myself, what I was about to do was beginning to feel overwhelming and almost painful. As I went to make my return, Harry was already waiting for me in the rose parlor as my family called it. It looked out to the rose garden and the vases were filled with roses of all colors.

“Harry? Did something happen? Your entire family was quiet during dinner, it worries me.” I asked him quietly.

“Yes, I’m not sure how much you actually know, but my parents aren’t actually together. My mum maintained her title when they split just because of how loved she was by the people of Holmeshire, your parents actually had to approve it. I was only seven when they split, and have maintained a relationship with both of them, my mother moreso though. She has had two relationships since, one which none of us speak to anymore, and the other, Robin, he passed from cancer a little over three months ago. It was getting progressively worse and I just knew I needed to be there for my mum, which is why I stopped texting you, and why it was hard to find time to see you. You have to believe me when I say I wanted to see you, Robin was a good man, he made sure I had good values, and taught me that it’s actually ok for a man to cry.” Harry explains to me, I just sit and listen quietly, knowing he just needs to get all of this out. “My mum has been trying to slowly reconnect herself back to my father over the past six weeks and while it is definitely an adjustment for all of us, I want to start doing things for myself again, rather than just doing things for my family, I want to get back to spending more time with you.” He finishes speaking, and the tears I have been trying to force down, overflow.

“Harry, we can’t, my parents are expecting me to start pursuing other potential matches at tomorrow night’s ball. I’m supposed to tell you that,” I cry while trying to explain it all to him. Harry being the gentle and beautiful soul he is, uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. I take a few deep breaths before continuing, “Harry I’m to tell you that courtship is no longer an option for us, I’m meant to tell you goodbye, and it breaks my heart to say that to you. I… I need to go.” I say and attempt to rush out but Harry stops me with one word, “wait.”

“Y/N it’s not tomorrow yet, let me try one thing.” He says and steps closer to me.

“Harry, we shouldn’t, I can’t, you can’t do anything Harry, our chaperone is right there, just twenty feet away, and my father…”

“Relax, I’m not going to do anything like that, I want to ask for permission to court you in front of everyone, tonight.” He says with a smile.

“I suppose it’s worth a try, I don’t want to say goodbye to you Har.” I say softly.

“Then it’s settled, and we’re doing this now.” He offers me his arm and I take it, hoping it won’t be the last time.

When we get back to the dinner parlor where everyone else is, still sitting in silence. Harry grabs their attention immediately.

“Excuse me your majesties, Princess Y/N has just informed me of everything, and it upsets me greatly, especially because with my family’s recent loss of Robin, I needed to take time to put them first, and put their well being above my own, even though I would have much rather been spending that time with her highness. Which is why since it’s not tomorrow yet, I’d like to ask you for your formal permission to begin a courtship with her highness Princess Y/N.” Harry announces.

“I suppose you are correct Lord Harry, it is not tomorrow yet, and I suppose…” my father begins, turning to look at my mother, who nods at him, before continuing. “I suppose that my wife and I can excuse your recent absence and forgive you for upsetting our daughter.” he wraps up.

“And as long as it’s what the Princess wants…” My mother picks up and looks at me, I nod eagerly, a wide, bright smile returning to my face for the first time in months.

“It is, it’s everything I want.” I say happily.

“Then you have our permission, and our blessing to court Princess Y/N.” My father announces. I’m just so happy that I was wrong about Harry not wanting me, I hug him. He’s surprised at first, but hugs me back almost immediately. It’s the best feeling in the entire world, to be in his strong arms, I'm impossibly happy.

“Okay, that’s long enough.” My mother says as my father wraps an arm around her waist.

“Sorry mother,” I say, breaking apart from Harry. He takes my hand and kisses the back of it though.

The conversation for the night livens up after that. Harry and I are allowed to sit next to each other on one of the couches. We’re holding both of each other’s hands and whispering to each other for the entire rest of the hour. Just before we go our separate ways for the night he whispers the best phrase in the entire world to me.

He simply says, “I love you,” squeezes my hands again, kisses them both, and heads towards the Velychnyy (Majestic) Suite.

Hope you enjoyed!

As a quick reminder as of 1/17/24, I'm still working on this story, I don't want to post any of it until I'm finished writing it (mostly potential format changes) so please be patient with me and let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future The Princess's Lover (TPL) posts by commenting below!

-Ava

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daisyblog · 11 months

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Good Girl

The Royal Family Series Masterlist

Maia’s POV As we had planned last night, we were in our usual VIP club in London, but standing in the corner dressed in black were Tom and Hudson, my two guards. We had met here a couple of hours ago and it was safe to say the alcohol in our system was taking effect, especially after Jack and James insisted we all do a round of shots.

As usual, Ellie and Jake sat in the booth only having eyes for each other, despite them insisting they were “only friends”. Grace, James, Jack and I were all on the dancefloor, when Uptown Funk began blaring from the clubs' speakers. The four of us began jumping around and singing along.

‘cause uptown funk gon’ give it to you..woo ‘cause uptown funk gon’ give it to you ‘cause uptown funk gon’ give it to you Saturday night and we in the spot Don’t believe me..just watch

As Grace and I were hanging on to each other, laughing hysterically at our awful dance moves, James’ voice broke us from our bubble.

“Oh my fucking god”. His dramatic tone filled our ears as we stood huddled together.

“What? What is it?” Jack asked as he was trying to look in the same direction James was looking in.

“Pinch me now” James vaguely said as he stood and stared.

“I’ll fucking punch you if you don’t tell us what you’re looking at” Jack had zero patience.

“It’s Harry fucking Styles”. The name instantly causing me to search for the man himself.

Instantly my head spun around in the hope my eyes find him quickly. “What? Where? Tell me where?” I frantically said, and that’s when I saw him tucked in the corner with two other men chatting away with a drink in his hand.

“Ooo I’ve got an idea…let’s do a dare!” Jack interrupted my stare.

“I dare you to piss off”. James rolled his eye at Jack’s idea, making Grace and I laugh.

“Maia…I dare you to go over there and pretend you’re someone else”. Jack instructed as he took a sip of his drink.

Grace and James looked at him like he was crazy, well he was but that’s another story. “’cause he’s really gonna believe that isn’t he…he saw her last night you idiot”. James argued.

Sober me wouldn’t have accepted the dare but Maia with a system full of alcohol was not going to miss the opportunity of talking with a beautiful man. “Give me one of those” I spoke as I picked up a shot from the tray beside us and downed it. “Wish me luck!”. I said before walking towards Harry and the two men, recognising them, Nick Grimshaw and James Corden. As I approached the group, I stumbled over my own foot and ended up falling into Harry.

“You alright love?”. Harry’s deep and raspy voice interrupted my embarrassment.

“Bloody ‘ell am I that pissed or is that Princess Maia?” Nick sassily asked.

James chuckled at the scene “That was smooth Styles…only you could have a Princess falling into your arms”. The tree men chuckling at the reality.

“I-I’m so sorry” I stuttered as I moved from Harry’s grip.

“S’alright…shit we didn’t bow” Harry panicked.

“Please don’t fucking bow at me” I insisted as I flattened my dress out, feeling myself sober up slightly after embarrassing myself. “I’m going to sound crazy…but my friends over the just dared me to come over here and pretend I wasn’t actually me..but I ruined it”.

“Did you honestly think that was gonna work darling?” Nick asked as he giggled.

“A dares a dare” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Who were you gonna be?” James asked.

“No idea..anyone but me” I laughed.

“C’mon then..carry out your dare..we’ll play along with you” Harry spoke from the side of me.

“Uh…okay..hang on..let me prepare myself” I dramatically requested making the three of them laugh “Okay…I’m ready”.

“Hiya love..I’m Harry..who are you?” Harry spoke with a smirk on his face, clearly enjoying this.

“Hi..I’m..um..To-Townes” I hesitated.

“Townes?” Nick chucked again “I fucking love this girl”.

“First thing that popped into my head” I laughed with him.

“Is that even a name?” James asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“And where are you from Townes?” Harry continued the dare, still wearing a smirk.

Why did I agree to this? “Uh..uh…England but I’ve got family in Carolina” I thought quickly and feeling proud of myself.

“What have you been drinking?” Harry broke his smirk and chuckled instead.

“I don’t even fucking know…but that was all a lie..I blame the books I read” I revealed “Anyway..I’m really sorry for interrupting your night”

“Don’t be silly” “You’ve made my night” “You didn’t” the three spoke at the same time.

“Let me get you drinks to apologise” I thought and before they could answer I found the shot tray that was still on our table.

“Maia..what are you doing?” Grace asked.

“Don’t ask..I failed the dare”

I made my way back over to thr three in the corner, carrying the tray of shots. “C’mon you three let’s do a shot”

“Bloody hell…’aven’t you had ‘nough darling” Nick teased.

“Don’t worry about me ‘darling’” I mimicked “It would take a lot to sink me”. I handed each of them a shot “Ready..3..2..1..” and we all downed the shot, Harry and James grimaced at the taste, making me laugh.

“I hate shots” James revealed as he wiped his lips.

“So did you enjoy the show last night?” Harry changed the topic.

“Yes it was amazing..my friends are super jealous…my friend James over there-“

“The one that keeps looking over?” Harry interrupted whilst looking over in their direction.

“Yes..he’s a big fan”

“Bigger fan than you?” Harry teased.

“Hmm…that’s a tough one”

“You and James should come to another show” Harry suggested as he looked back in my direction.

“Is that an invite?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Maybe” he smirked “How would I send you an invite?” I knew he was a joker and a little flirt but was this him being friendly or am I that intoxicated?

I smiled at him, both of us staring at each other “We still live in the old days..so I’m afraid you’ll have to send it by pigeon” I tried to keep a serious face, but Harry burst into laugher.

“You’re funny…I guess you won’t receive an invitation then”

After thinking and going against the rule of ‘don’t give your number to anyone’ “You can text me, but you can’t tell anyone I’ve given you my number…can’t ruin my good girl reputation” I sarcastically said.

“How do I know you won’t leak my number?” Harry joked, tipping his head to the side as he wore his famous smirk.

After exchanging numbers, I spoke “You'll just have to trust me” I teased and walked back over to my friends but as I glanced over my shoulder, Harry was pouting his lips trying not to smirk.

---

Being woken up abruptly by a loud knocking on my door, I instantly jumped up in bed and regretted it as my head spun. I shouldn't have drunk so many shots last night! Slipping on a jumper and padding through the flat towards my front door, I opened it and there stood William with a frown on his face.

"What?" I snapped, annoyed that he was knocking on my door early in the morning.

"Are you asking for trouble?" He stood there, his eyebrows raised with a series expression covering his face.

"What are you talking about Wills?" I asked, walking back into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

"You've been pictured out last nig-". Not giving him chance to finish, I interpreted.

"Oh wow...what a crime" I sarcastically said and took a sip of my water.

"Less of the attitude" he warned with raised eyebrows. “You’ve been pictured with that boy from that band you like".

"Harry, his name is Harry..how can you not know that?" I rolled my eyes.

"I don't care..what were you doing with him?" William quizzed.

"I was out with my friends..he just happened to be at the club and we got talking..no big deal" I shrugged.

"It doesn't look good does it?". William continued to press. Still disappointment on his face.

"Wills..I haven't done anything wrong..am I not allowed to talk to anyone now either" I huffed and crossed my arms.

"Mimi you know what it's like..we can't..we can't talk or look at anyone without them making a story about it". He tried to sympathise.

"So what's the story they've made up this time then?" I asked.

William took his phone from his back pocket and after scrolling and a few taps, he passed his phone to me showing me the article.

Princess Maia and Harry Styles getting cosy in London Nightclub

Last night, Sunday evening, Princess Maia was spotted partying with some friends in a club in London. It's no surprise that the Princess was enjoying herself, dancing and following her brother Prince Harry's rebellious ways. The onlooker told us "She was just being like any other girl that age, out with some friends, laughing and downing shots".

What did surprise us was seeing the Princess and Boyband member Harry Styles getting cosy. The Princess and Prince Harry attended a One Direction concert on Saturday night, where she was seen dancing and singing along to their songs. The onlooker reported, "I was so shocked when I turned around and saw the Princess and Harry Styles laughing together, it looked like they had known each other for a long time". Harry Styles was accompanied by James Corden and Nick Grimshaw.

Are they friends, or are they more?

"I hate that I can't just be normal and talk to someone without it being made into something more" I angrily stated, giving William his phone.

"I know..it's hard" he sympathised.

"I'm assuming I'm not in the good books again".

"I told Papa and Granny that I would come over and find out if it was true" he calmly said.

"Great..I'm in for it at dinner this evening then...do I even have to come?".

"Yes you do" William sternly said "Plus you can have cuddles with Lottie and George".

"Fine..you've won me over" I sighed.

---

After William left, I made some breakfast, had a shower and dressed into some cosy clothes before checking my phone. Shit..I gave Harry my number last night. Noticing some messages from my friends, I ignored them whilst I contemplated texting him to apologise for the article that was written. After some thinking, I'd decide to bite the bullet and began tapping on the screen Maia Hey Harry, It's Maia. I'd like to apologise for my behaviour last night, alcohol and me obviously don't mix. I'm also sorry about the article that's been written about us, I hope it hasn't caused too much drama for you.

After clicking send, I sat and waited for a response. What if he doesn't reply? What if he's angry? What if he hates me? What if his management is angry? What if - interrupting my worries, my phoned pinged in front of me.

Harry Styles Morning Princess. That was a very formal message. I was hoping for something else after your cheekiness last night and of course how cosy we were x

Was he flirting? Am I dreaming? What does one do when Harry Styles is flirting?

Maia Me...cheeky, I don't think so Styles x

Harry Styles Oh I forgot, you're a good girl 😉 x

Maia I am, I'm an angel! xx

Harry Styles That's a lie x

Maia Just you wait and see Styles xx

---

As I walked through Buckingham Palace and towards the dining room, I could hear muffled voices. Tom and Hudson waited outside the room, whilst I continued to walk in.

"Oh Maia, there you are" My grandfather greeted. Since I was little, I've always had a unique and loving relationship with my grandfather, Some might say I was his favourite Granddaughter.

"Hi Grandpa" I hugged him and he placed a kiss on my cheek. "Evening Granny" I turned to my grandmother and curtsied, before going to sit next to my brother Harry who was sitting opposite William and Kate.

"You look lovely Maia" my Grandmother complimented and I thanked her, relieved that they weren't angry with me.

"Where's Papa?" I asked them. Noticing that my father and Camila were missing.

"They're not here yet" William stated.

"So..Maia I've got a new favourite song" Harry began, we all looked at him confused "It goes...'cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style..you got that long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt..."

"You're not funny" I rolled my eyes at his teasing.

"Wills..where's George and Charlotte?" I asked looking around for my nephew and niece. He looked towards Kate with a guilty expression "I hate you right now..you said they'd be here".

"Maia..do not talk like that young lady" my grandmother scolded, "I think you have caused more than a stir already don't you think".

I put my head down and kept my eyes on the white tablecloth in front of me as my father and Camila walked in greeting everyone. "Oh Maia, how was your night last night?" Papa asked, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"Papa..the article over-exaggerated it...we were just talking" I explained as he looked directly at Granny with raised eyebrows.

"'cause you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye" Harry hums and I nudge him with my elbow, making him chuckle and Kate is trying desperately hard not to laugh.

"Anyway..why would it matter if the article was true...Wills and Kate have been seen getting cosy as you put it before" I argued.

"Kate is a respectful young lady, not a rockstar" Papa responded.

"I think he looks...what's the word the youths use these days...cool..I think he looks cool" Grandpa randomly interrupted, making us laugh. That's the thing with Grandpa, he never took anything too seriously and would crack jokes at inappropriate times.

"He's very cool Grandpa" Harry agreed nodding his head.

"You need to be sensible Maia" Granny continued the conversation.

"I will Granny" before I turned to Papa "I promise".

---

After dinner this evening, I was back in my flat and changed into some pyjamas with a film playing in the background and a cup of tea in my hand. I'd replied to messages from my friends asking me about the article and if I'd gotten into trouble, when his named apperaed on my phone.

Harry Styles Are you flirting Princess? x

Reading the text gave me butterflies and I felt like a teenager all over again. but avoiding the question I typed a reply.

Maia My Grandpa thinks you're cool x

Harry Styles You're Grandpa is cool. So did you get into trouble? x

Maia Nothing I couldn't handle xx

Harry Styles Does that mean we can't get 'cosy' again? x

Maia Very bold of you 😂 x

Harry Styles Me? Bold? No definitely not x

---

Since Monday evening, Harry and I had been messaging back and forth, a few cheeky texts here and there. Harry explained the band had a few days off before travelling to the Manchester shows. He had invited me and my friends to the shows but I politely had to decline, not wanting to add more fuel to the fire.

So instead I'd invited him over, for some dinner. I had just finished getting ready when my phone buzzed with a text from Harry saying he was outside. I felt really nervous to see him in person again. Walking outside my flat, I sent Tom to the main gate to let Harry in. I watched them both walk towards my flat, allowing me to take in his appearance.

"Hi" I waved as he approached me, sunglasses still covering his eyes.

"Hey" He smirked.

"Come in...thanks Tom, thanks Hudson" to which they both bowed their head in response.

Harry followed me and took his boots off by the door before we walked into the living area. "Waw..I didn't expect this from the outside" he commented whilst looking around the room.

"Let me guess you were expecting big chandeliers and awful posh decor" I teased, as I sat down on the cream sofa, Harry following sitting on the opposite side and taking his sunglasses off and placing them on the pink pouffe in front of us.

He chucked at the assumption "Uh..yeh suppose so...it's very you though".

"Is that a good thing?" I giggled.

"Yeh..it is" he smiled over at me. Those dimples!

"Do you want a drink?" I offered.

"Uh yeh, please...water will be fine thanks".

I walked into the kitchen, got us both glasses of water and took them back into the living room, to find Harry looking at my bookshelf filled with books and photos.

"S-sorry..I was just looking" he frantically apologised and ran his fingers through his hair.

"It's fine..you can look" I reassured him and went to sit back down on the sofa, placing the glasses on the pouffe. I watched as he picked up the photo of me, my two brothers and Mum, his lips twitching up into a small smile.

"You've got your Mum's eyes and smile" he complimented. Glancing between me and the photo.

"Do you think?" I shyly asked, picking up my glass of water to take a sip.

He still had the photo frame in his hand "Yeh...she was a beautiful lady..my Mum was in awe of her". He placed the photo down and took his previous spot on the sofa.

"I-I...I..um..I don't really have many memories with her that I remember...so I love listening to other people talk about her" I admitted.

"I'm sorry" he apologised.

I couldn't help but laugh "Why are you saying sorry?"

He shrugged his shoulders "Dunno...just..can't imagine how you must have felt".

"I was three...I didn't understand...I still don't if I'm honest".

"Well she would definitely be proud of you" he tried to lighten the mood.

"Maybe..not of everything I do" I raise my eyebrows.

"Hmm...maybe not" he teased.

"Someone's got to keep it real" I sassily flicked my hair over my shoulder, Harry didn't say anything just kept staring "Why are you staring at me?" I asked paranoid I had something on my face.

"You're just different".

"Different?".

"In a good way..like you're just really humble" he complimented.

"Thank you...so shall we have dinner?"

We decided to make a vegetable stir fry and sat by the table to eat and talk. Harry was in the middle of explaining how he was looking forward to spending time with his family when the band have a break, when my phone buzzed from the kitchen counter, I muttered a 'sorry' as I got up to get it.

"Shit!” I muttered as I saw who was calling.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked with concern.

"It's my brother" I swiped the FaceTime call to accept. Harry's face popping up on the screen.

"Hey Henry" I said nervously.

"Mimi..do you want to come over?" my brother asked.

I glanced at Harry quickly to the side of me before answering "Uh..I..I can't right now"

My brother narrowed his eyes at me through the screen "Why?"

"I..I just can't"

"I'll come to you then"

"No" I answered too quickly and he raised his eyebrows suspiciously "I mean...I'm busy"

"Busy doing what..or should I say who?" This made Harry choke on his water next to me "Who was that?"

"No one"

"Mimi" he warned "Is that James Dean?"

"Piss off with that song will you"

"Hi Harry" my brother said with a big grin on his face, making Harry's eyes widen next to me.

"Uh..Hi"

"Henry..don't you dare" I warned him.

"What..I'm just being friendly" he argued.

"No you're being annoying"

"I'll leave you to it, bye Mimi...behave yourself...bye Harry"

"Bye" Harry and I said together.

As I ended the call, I put my face into my hands "UGH"

"What's wrong?" Harry chuckled.

"My brother won't let me hear the end of this" I whined.

"What..why did he call me James Dean?" Harry asked as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Taylor Swift's song...you know 'cause you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye" I sang part of the song.

"Aww...has he teased you about me before?"

"Yes..at our family dinner the other day"

"I'm guessing your family are not to fond of the thought of you being associated with me" Harry looked sad, almost hurt.

"No..no..it's not that" I began to explain "Look...it's complicated...it's not personal towards you..It's..I don't know how to explain it to you...but even though my grandmother is the Queen..we've got like an institute that we're answerable to..and..let's just say I've pushed their buttons a fair few times"

"For not following the rules?"

"Yes..exactly..doesn't mean I'm going to start listening but I don't want to drag you into my rumours and dramas Harry"

"What..what if that doesn't bother me?"

"W-what..I...what do you mean?"

"Well..I..I I'd like to get to know you...as in Maia..and not a Princess"

I was lost for words, nobody has ever wanted to know me for me. Everyone has always been interested in getting to know the Queen's granddaughter and the daughter of Diana and Charles. I didn't realise a tear had run down my cheek, until Harry swiped his thumb across my cheek.

"I'm sorry..I-I-I...I didn't mean to make you cry" he stuttered.

"Y-ou..didn't..It's..nobody has ever wanted to get to know me for me" I sniffled.

"That makes two of us...c'mere" he spoke and opened his arms to pull me into his chest and squeeze me tight "So..what do you say about me and you Angel?"

Tag List: (let me know if you would like to be added) @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney fanfictioncafe lilfreakjez jerseygirlinca iamahallucinationnn @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @acesofspadess @humptyhoran

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hapinesbuterfiy · 2 months

Text

. ୨🪩୧ ₊˚ 🍒 ʚ ♡ ˚ 🎀 +

lets talk about rafe x fangirl!reader...

you love being a fangirl and all of the late release nights, hundreds of dollars spent in merch and concert tickets, and the constant hours of waiting in ticketmaster queues that came with it. having an insanely rich and obsessive boyfriend who would spend millions to make you happy had it's perks!

it took rafe a while to get used to your antics, never did he ever think he would be waking up at 2am to queue for a concert, but who else would be accompanying his girl? certainly not anyone else, he wouldn't have it. at first, he attempted to persuade you to buy actual seats instead of pit tickets with the "proactive person" approach. "are you fuckin' crazy? you're meanin' to tell me that you would rather sleep on the filthy fuckin' streets outside the venue waiting for hours when i could just buy you an entire box of seats? you're fuckin' insane." he stomps around your bedroom while standing above you, unable to fathom the lengths that you're willing to go to for a good view at a show. "rafe it's not the same you just don't get it! i need to be at the barricade there is literally no point in going if lana del rey can't watch me sob in front of her while singing pretty when you cry." he rolls his eyes at your remark, shaking his head in disbelief while sucking in his bottom lip. "yea—yea fuckin' barricade my ass, you shithead. lucky i wouldn't fuckin' make you go alone." you perk up, kissing his cheek in excitement. "thank you!" you've got him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

you're passionate, to say the least! why would you spent countless nights sobbing to grainy eras tour live streams after taylor swift plays your favorite songs without you there alone when you could be doing it with rafe by your side? he thinks you're insane for crying over a song, giving you his best fake sympathy act each time it happens, which is practically every time she has a concert because her entire discography is yours. you try your best to make out words through your sniffles and sobs, "i hate taylor swift so much. why would she bring gracie abrams out to play i miss you i'm sorry without me there?" you continue to choke on your sobs and manage to pull yourself even close into his chest. "she's so mean i hate her rafe." he tries his best to console you but can't help but laugh at your disheveled state and the snot coming out of your nose over a song, he is rafe, after all. "baby— i don't know what to tell you. maybe she'll like play it again when you see her, i don't fuckin' know." he wipes your face with his thumbs, as he continues to laugh at you reaching out for his phone to take a video of you so he can make fun of you later for it.

you practically control the aux cord in his jeep, as his girlfriend it's basically your job to make sure he has good music taste! plus the same future songs that he plays over and over again are starting to become unbearable. "so this is thank u, next, it's literally ariana's best single like i swear i would not be the same person without this song it's so me core." he parts his lips in frustration, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "the fuck do you mean that's so me core? are you tryin' to say somethin' here?" he tries to pretend that he isn't enjoying it but you can hear him mumble "thank u, next m' im so fuckin' grateful for my ex." your eyes light up as you land a playful slap to his shoulder "see i told you it was a good song, you're too stubborn!" he completely disregards you, turning the volume up even higher so that you stop chirping in his ear.

you're a handful and a tad bit loud, but rafe secretly enjoys putting with your shit. you're his princess and if that meant he had to book an entire trip to italy just so you could go see harry styles for the last show on love on tour just to make you happy, he would be doing so!

#dividers by @plutism #this is the most self serving thing i have ever written #𓂃 ꔫ 💌 hapinesbuterfiy #rafe cameron #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron fanfiction #fangirl #taylor swift #lana del rey #harry styles #ariana grande #gracie abrams

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vanteguccir · 3 months

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watching you read | harry styles

Harry Styles x reader

Summary: Where Y/N loves reading the books Harry buys for her, and Harry loves watching her read.

Warning: None.

Author's note: I wrote a version of this scenario for Chris Sturniolo as well, but my biggest inspiration for this was Harry. If you want to read Chris version, it's on my masterlist.

PS.: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N sighed contentedly, making herself comfortable in the armchair she was sitting in the living room of her house, the new book Harry had bought her the day before was open in her hands, her eyes running over the words on the yellowed pages as her head moved slowly to the light beat of the music playing from the record player.

The golden hour sun hit her legs folded against her chest, warming her.

Her attention was so focused on the story that Y/N didn't hear the front door open and close seconds later, much less the sound of keys being hung right next to the entrance and the sound of a bag resting on the floor.

Harry opened a smile when he saw his girlfriend sitting so comfortably in the living room of their house, taking off his Adidas sneakers and placing them against the wall next to the door, walking towards the woman.

Finally, Y/N raised her head in surprise when she felt a presence behind her, looking at Harry and relaxing instantly, closing her eyes when she felt the brunette's lips against her forehead.

"Hello my love, are you enjoying the book?" Harry asked quietly against Y/N's hair, as if he was afraid to speak loudly and burst the bubble they were both in.

"Uhm, the story is super engaging." She responded in the same tone, pushing her head back until she rested it against Harry's chest, which he sighed in appreciation before slowly pulling away.

"I'm going to take a quick shower, do you want some tea?" The singer asked her, taking his cap off his head and beginning his slow walk to the stairs, ready to step into the hot shower.

"Yes, please." Y/N replied with a smile in her voice, turning her eyes back to the book.

A few minutes later, Harry was coming down the stairs again, now wearing only cotton pants and white socks, the smell of soap trailing behind him as he walked towards the kitchen.

His hands, now only wearing the promise ring he shared with his girlfriend, worked on turning on the stove to heat the water while he picked up two small cups with flower designs that Y/N joked that looked like her grandmother's, but secretly loved them.

Harry fetched the tea bags from his favorite brand, distributing them into the two cups, walking to the stove to pick up the kettle that was already whistling, turning off the heat and filling the cups with the right amount, before putting the kettle back in place and picking up the teas carefully, walking slowly to the living room.

Y/N looked up again as she heard Harry approach, seeing her boyfriend place their cups side by side on the coffee table before walking over to Y/N, lifting her into his arms with ease, his muscles momentarily appearing more in his arms, before he sat where Y/N was seconds before and placed her on his lap.

"I still don't know how you can do that." Y/N spoke with an amused expression, looking at Harry's greenish field.

"I train every day so I can treat you like the princess you are." He responded jokingly, making his girlfriend laugh and roll her eyes.

She arranged herself on Harry's thighs, bringing her feet to rest on his knees so that her own thighs were against her chest, the book resting on them and being held upright by one of her hands, while the hand with the painted nails in pink and with the promise ring circled Harry's nape, running her fingers carefully through the hair on there.

Harry raised his left hand so that he held the free side of the book, preventing it from closing, while his right hand rested on her back, drawing small circles in the area. Y/N smiled in gratitude, bringing her face closer to Harry's and planting a lingering kiss on his stubble, enjoying the feeling his small hairs made against her moisturized lips.

"I love you." Harry whispered, enjoying the act of affection.

"I love you more." Y/N responded, pulling away a little just so she could kiss him on the lips lightly, just a touch of lips, exhaling and enjoying the smell of soap and men's shampoo that surrounded him.

The woman backed away a few seconds later, turning her face forward so that she could see the page completely, going back to delve into the story, smiling small when she felt Harry's eyes on her face, analyzing her carefully.

The only sounds filling the room were their light breathing and the melody coming from the record player, which Harry accompanied sometimes, warming Y/N's heart.

This was her home, and she wouldn't trade Harry's arms for anything in the world.

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avatar-anna · 5 months

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Snooze

youtube

sza deserves all the grammys this year i said what i said

Hockey Player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader

*.*

"You're an idiot, Styles."

Harry tried to respond, but hissed as Y/n dabbed the cut near his eye. "Easy, there. I know you have gentler hands than that."

Y/n huffed, moving onto his split lip. Harry was sitting on top of her bathroom counter as she cleaned up his cuts from the fight he got into at his game an hour ago. She hadn't gone, and had been surprised when Harry showed up at her doorstep battered and bruised, a bag of frozen peas pressed to his cheek. They weren't supposed to see each other tonight, but Y/n didn't have time to think about the fact that Harry had come to her for help when they only had been sleeping together for two weeks now.

"Should've gone somewhere else if you wanted gentle," Y/n said, her words coming out icier than she'd intended. Perhaps she was overcompensating to cover up the fact that she didn't like seeing him hurt, but she quickly pushed that thought away until it was practically non-existent. "What the hell were you fighting about anyway?"

Harry had mentioned the fight was enough to get him thrown out of the game, but he didn't say what had pushed him to start it in the first place. Y/n had joined her friends at a handful of hockey games, and each time Harry was a cocky little shit on the ice, sometimes shoving an opponent around or getting in their face, but it was never anything serious. He was a lot of things, but Y/n never considered him to be the overly violent type. She didn't imagine any small thing would've caused him to lose it on someone, especially if it affected his team negatively.

Harry shrugged, but Y/n saw the dark look that crossed his face as he recalled the fight. "Some asshole on the other team was talking shit. I put a stop to it."

Definitely vague, but Y/n had no idea why. She didn't see any reason why he would have to hide his reason for getting in a fight during one of his games. "Well, I hope you got a few good hits in."

"Careful, Princess. You're starting to sound like you care about little old me."

Y/n blushed at Harry's sly grin. Something fluttered in her stomach, but she ignored it, opting to press just a little harder on the cut on his lip. "No. I just had it in my head that I was going to sit on your face tonight, and now I can't."

The look of pure disappointment on Harry's face left Y/n feeling perfectly pleased with herself. She couldn't help the way she swelled with pride at how much he wanted her. She wasn't really sure what that meant, but she didn't feel like putting much thought into it for now.

When Harry tried to lean in for a kiss, his hands, bruised knuckles and all, reaching out for her waist, Y/n stepped out of his grasp. She left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen, returning with an ice pack and tossing it to Harry. "You can crash here tonight if you want," she said. "You know, concussion protocol and everything."

The look Harry gave her was one Y/n couldn't read, but it made her squirm, so she disappeared out of the bathroom once again. Harry didn't follow, so she assumed he was just wrapping up or something. In the meantime, she went to her room, rustling through the stack of vinyls next to her desk before settling on one and and putting on her record player. It crackled for a moment, then music erupted from the speakers, filling Y/n's bedroom and putting her at ease a bit. The truth was, seeing Harry roughed up didn't sit well with her. She worried for him, felt bad that she wasn't there. And she didn't expect to feel that way, she didn't like it. Harry had joked earlier that she was starting to care about him, and that sent her nerves skittering too. That wasn't what this was.

Harry came in a few minutes later, setting his duffle bag in its usual place and picking his way through the dim glow of the twinkly lights. He slipped into bed next to Y/n, kissing up and down her neck and shoulders as he slipped his hands under her sleep shirt. Y/n tilted her head back to kiss him, not really thinking about the cut on his bottom lip. Harry winced a little, but didn't pull away. She did, though, brushing her thumb over his lip gently.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "Maybe we should—"

"No, it's okay. I like the pain," Harry said, and Y/n couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Honestly, it was probably both.

The record continued to play, the melody easing the tension out of both of their shoulders and relaxing Y/n in a way it always did. "No more split lips. I don't like tasting blood when I kiss you."

"I see," Harry said, but there was something in his tone that made her brow furrow. It was the same knowing look he'd given her in her bathroom, but she still couldn't quite make sense of it. It felt like he knew something she didn't, like he saw right through the walls around her heart and knew how she really felt.

Flicking her eyes away from that piercing gaze of his, she shuffled around on her bed, inching down Harry's body as her fingers traced his lithe frame as she went. Harry tried to question her actions, but his voice dissolved into a moan before he could do so. Y/n didn't want to think anymore, didn't want to worry, didn't want her thoughts to travel into territory she considered dangerous. She just wanted him.

Harry's hand found the back of her head, content in her plan to leave the events of the night behind them. He murmured words of encouragement, talking her through it all and guiding her head and caressing her cheek gently with his thumb. The longer she pleasured him, the more that swell of pride came back in full force. She preened at each little reaction he had to her touch, causing her to smile as best she could in her current position.

When it was all said and done, Harry rested his head against Y/n's chest, his breaths deep and slow as the record's first side fizzled to an end. Y/n tried not to think too much into the position they'd found themselves in, or the way lying together felt just as right as having sex did. Her heart flipped as Harry sleepily mumbled, "Thanks for taking care of me," his voice so slurred she wondered if he would remember saying it in the morning.

Y/n couldn't find sleep as she wondered if she wanted him to or not.

*.*

Harry hadn't been a relationship very long, but he thought it was safe to say that he knew when his newly minted girlfriend was positively seething.

Y/n had somehow managed to sit on top of the kitchen counter, and he could see her staring from the doorway that led to the main room of his apartment where he was involved in a particularly intense drinking game. He knew why she was stewing over there, why her fingers tightly gripped the drink he'd gotten for her earlier. They were together now, but it wasn't like they made a formal announcement to anyone, so sometimes a girl would try to flirt at a party or a guy would get a little too comfortable around Y/n.

Neither of them liked to share, but Y/n wasn't as up front about it as Harry tended to be; he preferred to quietly seethe and let her bad mood settle over her while he had no problem letting people know he was hers. He didn't like this girl pressing up against him more than Y/n did, but every time he tried to put distance between them around the table, she just kept inching back to him. Harry fancied himself a gentleman and didn't want to embarrass the freshman by telling her point blank he wasn't interested, but she hadn't taken the subtle hints he was throwing her way, and he wanted to go to sleep a happy boyfriend.

The game wrapped up quickly and Harry did his best to try to get away from the table and head toward Y/n, but a hand rested on his bicep, causing him to turn around to look down at the young woman who'd been flirting with him the entirety of the game. Before she could get a word out, Harry was quick to shut her down. "I have a girlfriend."

"I don't see her," she said, her thumb smoothing over his shirtsleeve, but he quickly shrugged out of her grip and nodded to where he knew Y/n was watching the exchange take place.

And Harry felt it was an important distinction that his girlfriend was staring down the girl, not him.

Y/n's legs were crossed, causing her mini skirt to ride up her legs a couple inches. She wore tights underneath, but Harry only found it hotter. Everything about her turned him on, even the amused raise of her brows as she stared down the freshman who was still standing a little too close for her liking.

A lot was said in that look, and Harry could practically feel the chill from it, even when it wasn't necessarily directed at him. But it did the trick. The girl stepped back, a deep blush staining her cheeks. "Sorry, I'll just..."

And then she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd in search of someone available. Shaking his head, Harry maneuvered his way through his apartment, avoiding the throngs of people who bumped into him and got in his way. He didn't often have parties at his apartment, but tonight was his roommate's birthday, so now there was a hoard of people milling around his living room. He was just glad he had a lock on his door.

That look of irritation thinly veiled by amusement still danced in Y/n's eyes when Harry finally reached her. He was quick to tap her chin with his knuckle, settling one arm on the counter space beside her. "Ease up, tiger. I'm all yours, you know that."

"These underclassmen are bold," was all she said. The base of an R&B song thumped through the apartment, but this close together, Harry could hear her just fine. It was one of Y/n's favorite, and he could tell by the gentle sway of her body that she wasn't as mad as she was letting on.

Very gently, but with enough purpose and a look in his eyes that had Y/n's frosty exterior melting a little, he uncrossed her legs and settled in between them. "You didn't want to come save me?"

Harry took a sip of Y/n's drink when she offered it to him, running a hand through his hair idly. Most days he wore one baseball cap or another on his head, but recently he'd been going without one, perhaps on the off chance that his girlfriend's hands would find their way to his hair and play with it. "What did you want me to do? Go over there and shove my tongue down your throat?"

"I mean...I wouldn't have been opposed."

Sometimes Y/n came off as cold or a little standoffish, at least to those who didn't know her. She was just guarded, but every time Harry managed to put a smile on her face was worth it, each one a mini victory. There was a side to her that only he really knew, and he valued that nearly above everything else in their budding relationship.

"Noted," she said, crossing her arms around his neck. This close, Harry couldn't really do much but breathe in the smell of her perfume and nudge the sensitive skin of her neck with his nose. He swore he could just get drunk on the feel of her alone. Y/n hummed and leaned into him a little more before saying, "I like this song."

"Yeah?" Harry already knew, but he thought it was cute that she felt the need to tell him. As if he wasn't constantly cataloging all the little details that made up who she was.

Y/n nodded, pulling his head up by his hair so his eyes could meet hers. They were practically nose to nose, and he couldn't help the ridiculous smile that spread across his face as he looked into her eyes.

"What's that look for?" she asked.

I'm in love with you. It was the first time the thought had ever occurred to him, but he realized it was true. Harry was in love with Y/n. He'd liked her for a long time, as more than someone he just slept with, but he could tell that Y/n was a little slower to warm up to the idea of Harry being more than just a fuck buddy, so he took what she was willing to give him and bided his time. Now that he knew her even more, that he was able to be more to her, his heart unfurled like a flower in bloom.

Jesus, my teammates would roast the shit out of me if they heard me talking like this, he thought. Then, he realized he never answered Y/n's question. Clearing his throat, he gave her a quick kiss. "Come to bed with me? We can get up early tomorrow and get a morning skate in."

That, above everything, made Y/n's smile widen, and Harry couldn't fight his own when she crossed her legs behind his back and practically leaped into his arms.

*.*

Y/n didn't realize how someone could be so...perfect.

Before Harry waltzed his way into her life, she'd never done the whole relationship thing. She was too focused on skating, on her desire to be the best, to get distracted by things like boys and dates and hand-holding, by things like love. But Harry was just...well, he was unexpected. Now, years later, he was everything to her.

It started out with the small things. In school, he met her early in the morning for training, where she would do laps or work on tricks she was still struggling to master while he watched and reminded her to get water, or he would do drills while she reminded him of the same. They sat in ice baths together or helped each other stretch out their sore muscles, helped each other meal prep or make dinners that were beneficial to both their needs.

And then he became just as important to her off the ice. Harry made a point of reminding Y/n of balance, of enjoying herself outside the rink. They went on dates, studied together in the library, and volunteered at the community center to teach younger kids how to skate. When they were in school, Y/n and Harry had become some sort of unit, and that fact had only made her smile, not run away and hide like she originally thought it would.

Harry used to make her blood boil, now she didn't want to know what life would look like without him.

Currently, Harry was in the kitchen making breakfast. His back was to her, bearing the harsh red marks she left on his skin from last night. The sight made her cheeks flush, though she knew if Harry were to spot the various hickeys on her skin, or the still healing red marks around her wrists, his usual charming grin would become more sly and smug.

Leaning against the counter, Y/n watched Harry do his thing in content. He moved around their kitchen like he'd been there for years when in reality they'd only just moved in a couple months ago. Their previous apartment post-graduation was little more than a closet with a bathroom and a stove. Being in the minor leagues, Harry was offered accommodations with the rest of his team, but he declined so he could live with Y/n, and his paychecks, in the beginning, weren't nearly enough to live comfortably in a metropolitan city.

In some ways, Y/n missed their old apartment. It was way too tiny, the heat barely worked, and the neighborhood wasn't the greatest, but it was theirs, a piece of their history. She liked having to snuggle up so close to Harry simply to keep warm, liked the sweet old man and his little dog that Y/n watched occasionally for extra cash. Now their apartment was perfectly insulated, and their bed was big enough that sometimes it felt like there was too much space, and she wasn't quite sure about her new neighbors yet.

It was good. With Harry, things were always good. It was just different, and Y/n had always had a hard time adjusting to change. She would get there eventually, she just needed to warm up to their new home a bit more.

The expansive kitchen space was a good start, though.

Harry was humming to himself, an R&B song they both loved. His voice was deep and gravelly, and not just because he'd just woken up. Judging by the to-go cups on the kitchen island, he'd been up for a while. No, that was just his natural singing voice, and Y/n would've been irked that her boyfriend just had to be good at everything if his voice didn't make her toes curl.

"You're chipper this morning," she said, finally announcing her presence.

Harry turned around and smiled before turning back to whatever needed his attention at the stove. Y/n took that as her cue to walk over to him, her arms slipping around his waist. She kissed the spot between his shoulder blades, his skin warm despite not having a shirt on. Harry felt solid beneath her touch, but soft enough that she comfortably rested her cheek against him.

He continued to hum, one hand covering Y/n's while the other tended to their breakfast. When he was almost done, she let go and helped Harry get plates and utensils, setting up shop at their dining table while he brought their food over. The table was also a new addition to their home. Before, they just ate at the tiny counter that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment, not having enough room for a proper table and chairs.

Harry pulled Y/n into his lap before she could even think about sitting in her own chair. She turned in her spot and looked down at him with raised eyebrows. "Why did we buy multiple chairs when we only ever use the one?"

It was a joke. Y/n didn't mind sitting on Harry's lap. His schedule was so hectic that sometimes it was weeks before he was able to come home and spend proper time with her. Being this close made up for lost time, and both of them were eager to be apart as little as possible during the off-season.

But Harry responded with an answer that made Y/n pause because she couldn't tell whether he was joking with her or being serious.

"For the kids, obviously."

She tried her hardest not to stiffen when he would be able to feel it. They'd never discussed kids. Ever. And Y/n couldn't tell if he was testing the waters or if he was genuinely being facetious.

"I don't know if sitting in your lap in front of our children would be very appropriate." Y/n managed to add a little sarcasm in her voice, unsure of where this conversation was going. Then, because she wasn't a woman scared of feelings and difficult conversations anymore, she said, "You've never talked about that before."

"About what?"

She leveled Harry with a flat look. "You know what."

Harry shrugged, clearly not as thrown off by this as Y/n was. "Is it a bad thing if I say I want to have your babies one day?"

Babies? As in plural? "Let's just focus on one for now," she said.

"Alright. One. I want a baby," Harry said plainly. "Not like now, or anything, but, like, in the future. I want that to be a step for us somewhere down the line."

Y/n knew Harry wasn't being pushy by being blunt. This was how they spoke when having serious conversations. No beating around the bush, no guessing at subtext or tones or anything like that. They just spoke in clear, declarative statements, though Y/n hadn't imagined having this particular conversation anytime soon.

She just didn't think Harry was there yet. She didn't know if she was there yet. They'd just moved into this apartment, and Harry was blowing up as a rookie in the NHL. Y/n was just getting her feet on the ground as a sports psychologist, with a little bit of coaching on the side because even with a full-time job she still couldn't live her life without skating multiple times a week. She just didn't think a baby fit into their lives right now, not with how they barely had time for each other as it was.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Harry said. He didn't seem put off by her lack of response to what he'd said, though that was probably because he was probably used to it by now.

"I'm not...opposed to the idea," Y/n said, because she really wasn't. If there was one person in this world that she wanted to raise a child with, it would be Harry. She could picture it if she allowed her mind to wander far enough—teaching them how to skate and bundling them up to watch Harry's home games, first Christmases and snow days and first steps at a hockey arena, skating recitals or hockey games where Harry would coach. It was a nice daydream.

"But?" Harry asked, his shoulders tensing, as if waiting for the blow.

"But nothing. I just think...I think I still want to be a little selfish and have you all to myself for a little while longer. I hardly get to see you as it is, you know? A baby would change our whole dynamic, and I feel like I'm finally settling into this new life here. Just the two of us."

Harry nodded. He didn't look disappointed, which filled Y/n with relief. She didn't want to upset him with her answer, but that was where she was at.

"I...agree," Harry finally said. "You made a good point there. I can't compete with a baby for your attention. That wouldn't be fair to the baby."

Y/n threw her head back and laughed. "No, it wouldn't. So we're in agreement then."

"Just you and me. For now."

"For now."

Harry leaned in to kiss her, and Y/n melted against him the second his lips were on hers. He groaned a little as she shifted in his lap before standing up and hauling her away from the breakfast he'd made and the table that started this whole conversation. Y/n didn't protest as he set her down on their bed, hands making quick work of the low slung sweatpants that rested on his hips. Harry brought his hand down between her legs, brows raising at how wet she was.

"Already?"

Y/n propped herself on her elbows and shrugged. "Your singing turned me on earlier."

"Really," Harry said, marveling at the revelation.

"Don't let it get to your head. I also think it's annoying how good you are at everything," she said.

Harry grinned before settling between her legs, his arms circling around her thighs to hold her in the exact way he wanted her. Y/n didn't want to talk anymore, but her boyfriend was a cocky little shit, and she knew she had to wait for him to finish basking in the compliment before they moved on.

"Hm. Maybe Harry Jr. will inherit my talents and become a singer."

"Harry Jr?"

"Or Harriet," Harry mused.

Y/n nudged his shoulder with her foot to bring him out of his reverie. "Look at me H. Not gonna happen."

Shrugging, Harry focused back on the task at hand. "Don't worry, Princess. I'll wear you down. I've got time to convince you."

*.*

Harry could hear the harsh, echoey footsteps of someone running through the halls of the arena, but he didn't open his eyes to see who it was. He didn't have to.

"Jesus, H," Y/n breathed when she skidded to a stop at his side. She sounded frantic, panicked. It was a voice he didn't hear often from his fiance.

To the athletic trainer on his other side, she asked, "Why is he just laying here? He needs to go to the hospital. Get off your ass and call an ambulance before—"

"Easy, Princess. We're waiting for the team doctor."

When Harry finally opened his eyes, just barely as the harsh light of the athletic trainer's office caused his head to throb, Y/n was already looking down at where he laid on the exam bed. There was a lot of raw emotion going through her all at once, Harry could see it on her face. He knew it wasn't long before she fell back on her default setting and shut down completely, hiding behind harsh words and a cold exterior.

"You—"

"I'm fine, bub, I promise," Harry said, though the nausea stirring in his gut at having his eyes open for too long wasn't a good sign. He probably had a concussion. He'd hit his head pretty hard when he fell on the ice, but he thought the sharp pain in his ribs was the major concern. Now he wasn't so sure.

"Don't be a hero," Y/n snapped, but he didn't take it personally. Then, she turned her steely gaze on the athletic trainer—a new hire who was on their own for the first time tonight—and said, "Call. An. Ambulance."

Harry shifted his focus to they young trainer, who looked like they were about to shit themselves under the weight of his fiance's stare. "I—I can't—We have to wait—"

Their gulp was audible as they struggled to string enough words together to form a sentence, which only set Y/n's eyes ablaze even more. Harry knew she was scared, he was sure that his fall looked a lot worse than it actually was. But she couldn't turn the new trainer into a puddle of tears. Not again.

"Y/n, look at me."

Harry watched as her eyes stayed trained on the athletic trainer for a few more seconds before sliding her gaze down to his. He could see the fear behind all that anger and toughness, and he carefully took her hand in his so he could kiss the diamond on her left ring finger. "I'm okay," he said again. "The team doctor is on his way, but we're probably looking at a minor concussion and some cracked ribs. That's all."

"That's all?"

Wrong choice of words. "I said minor, didn't I?"

The truth was the hit Harry took on the ice was one of the worst he'd experienced in his professional career. It was a total accident, just too much momentum between him and a player on the opposing team. But it sent Harry careening across the ice, punching the breath out of his lungs and knocking his helmet right off.

"Sit down and take some deep breaths while we wait for the doctor," Harry tried again. "You're gonna stress out the baby."

Y/n's hand instinctively went to her belly, resting their joined hands over the little bump there. In one of Harry's jerseys, it was hard to feel it through the thick material, but he could, and despite the pain he was in, his heart leaped in his chest at the notion of being close to his baby.

Pregnancy was a surprise to the both of them. They'd had one conversation two years ago about kids, but after that, Harry and Y/n never really brought the subject up again. They were just content to live their lives in the moment, not wanting to plan or stress about the future or what could be. But even if they hadn't anticipated Y/n being pregnant, both of them were excited at the prospect of raising a baby together. After that initial conversation, they decided to hold off on kids, and now, the moment felt just right.

Y/n did as Harry asked, taking a deep breath and easing into the chair beside the exam bed he was on. He watched as some of the initial fear and stress of watching him fall in real time wash away, her eyes fluttering closed as she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. When she opened her eyes, her gaze found the athletic trainer's again.

"Remember to say please," Harry said before she opened her mouth.

Y/n cut him a glare before she looked back at the trainer. "Could you please find out when the doctor will be here?"

The athletic trainer didn't need to be asked twice. They scurried out of the room, and Harry could hear their frantic voice as they begged the team doctor over the phone to get to the arena faster.

"You know, you really gotta be careful, Princess. People might start to think you actually care about me."

It was his attempt at humor, easing the nerves he knew were swirling around inside her. Y/n's shoulders had yet to relax since she came in the room, and her eyes kept scanning his body as if a new affliction was magically going to appear in front of her. Unfortunately for Harry, his words did not have the desired effect. Y/n glared at him while most likely suppressing the urge to hit him.

"This isn't funny!"

"Never said it was."

"God, Harry," she said, her voice cracking beneath the steel she'd been hiding behind. Now that they were alone, her vulnerability started to make an appearance. "You—You scared me."

Harry's gaze softened. "I know, bub. I'm sorry."

Y/n ran a shaking hand through his hair, working through the knots in his tangled curls while her nails scratched his scalp. Harry leaned his head back with closed eyes, enjoying the familiar caress.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, neither of them saying anything as Y/n calmed herself—and Harry—down. Then, he squeezed her hand, peeking and eye open at her and giving her a knowing look. "You have to stop scaring the new hires. They know what they're doing."

"They looked like a child!" she huffed, pausing her ministrations. "We would already be at the hospital by now."

"I really don't think that's necessary," Harry insisted. "Let's just wait for the doctor, okay?"

Some might find Y/n's behavior overbearing, maybe even rude. But she lashed out when she was scared or angry, and even though Harry drove her insane when they first met years ago, she was fiercely protective of him now. And he couldn't really judge her for it, he was the same with her, especially now that she was pregnant. Y/n had chastised him a number of times already for not letting her carry groceries or assemble furniture for the nursery.

Y/n eventually nodded, begrudgingly agreeing to wait for the team doctor. She slumped in her chair beside Harry, exhaling a loud sigh. Harry grinned, slowly reaching for her chin and tilting her head to face him.

"Come give me a kiss. It'll make me feel better."

Under normal circumstances, Y/n would've scoffed. Harry had come home from a number of games and practices all banged up and begging for Y/n to kiss it better. But tonight she was shaken up at the severity of Harry's fall, and probably needed the kiss more than he did, which was why he said something in the first place.

Y/n pecked his lips before pulling away. She tried to, anyway, but Harry held her in place. "Now I know you can do better than that."

For the first time since she'd stormed in, Y/n grinned. It was small, but Harry counted the victory.

"You're trying to distract me," she said.

"Yes. Is it working?"

Y/n's smile grew a fraction. "Maybe."

Harry leaned in, and Y/n met him halfway, pressing their lips together. She tasted like vanilla, and Harry was inclined to taste as much as he could before the doctor arrived. Each kiss worked to melt Y/n, the hand resting on her cheek earning Harry a sweet little nuzzle in his palm when he eventually pulled away.

"I love you,"Harry said, kissing the tip of her nose.

"Love you too," she murmured, her hand reaching to hold the one he still had against her cheek as they waited for the doctor.

"Behave when the doctor gets here, please?"

"I always behave."

Now it was Harry's turn to scoff. He gave her one more kiss as he heard footsteps in the hallway drawing nearer to their door. "I'll remember you said that," he told her, pinching her cheek as a doctor and the same scared trainer entered the room.

"So, Harry. I heard you took a pretty nasty fall—"

"He needs to go to the hospital," Y/n cut in, that look of steel in her eyes once more.

Harry raised his eyes heavenward, bracing himself for a long night.

#harry styles #hockey player!harry styles #hockeyrry #figure skater!yn #figure skater!reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

743 notes · View notes

rerefundslocals · 1 year

Text

ADORE YOU [J.JK]

Summary: jungkook just wants to cook for you and love on you as a newly married couple.

>>pairing: husband!jungkook x wife!reader (she/her)

>>trope: established relationship

>>genre: fluff, fluff and fluff

>>word count: 917

>>warnings/tags: jungkook is just cheesy, mentions of jungkooks past with cooking(that one run bts ep), some tears of LOVE and Joy, short brief kisses, they're just vv cute :( lmk if I missed anything!

a/n - welll, uhm, I liked the live but damn bro at 4am? 😭 anyway, please enjoy this short piece of work, I'll be gone for a while. Please send feedback through reblogs or asks, it helps authors stay very motivated <333 {work is not proofread}

{Listen to 'Adore you' by Harry Styles as this is inspired by the song.}

~★~

"You don't have to say,you love me

You don't have say nothing

You don't have to say ,you're mine

Honey, I'll walk through fire for you

Just let me Adore You."

•★•♥︎•★•♥︎•

"You're gonna cook for me?"

"Of course. who else is gonna cook for my wifey?" Jungkook leans down at your figure sitting on the couch, placing a peck on your lips.

You both had just got back from your honeymoon and this is the first night in your shared home, and after a whole day of grocery shopping, Jungkook had decided to stand up and make a meal for you both.

You simply chuckle at his antics, deep down feeling a wave of worry as the last time Jungkook had cooked for you both, the food had stuck onto the plate.

"McDonald's can cook for us too, Kook and it'll be ready in no more than 30minutes." You suggest, hoping he would catch on.

But he doesn't.

"No, that's very unhealthy, we had nothing but unhealthy food during our honeymoon, so let's have something different. Hmm, Wifey?" He asks, head tilting to the side as he awaits your answer.

Looking at him draped in his White Nike shirt, that you suppose he got from Japan and his Grey Joggers ; you pout at him, hoping to persuade him.

Sighing you let out, "argh, fine. Promise you won't poison me?" As your response.

Fists meeting the air in victory and a funny walk that has him tilting to the side all the way to the kitchen, he let's out a strained response, "Don't worry, Princess! You're in good hands."

"Okay, My Prince Charming!" You shout back.

During the time that you scroll through the smart TV and your phone, it's clear to hear the tunes your Husband sings in the kitchen and it has you smiling from ear to ear.

What a beautiful voice he has. And he can sing to you all day and night, cause he adores you that much.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when Jungkook hardly places the pot on the countertop, making you flinch at the sudden hit.

"Come, Princess!" He ushers.

You walk to the kitchen, dressed in something similar as him. Grey sweats and a oversized Prada shirt that belongs to Jungkook, while your hair is styled the way you like.

"Hmm, what's this, baby?" You question, peering at the meal in the pot.

He smiles at you, feeling proud and it had you feeling shy because of how he stares into your eyes when he explains.

"So, Princess. This is my famous Seaweed rice, with fried rice mix along with chicken breasts mixed in with sesame oil, soy sauce and gochujang. And that all for my Wifey." He finishes, lips meeting yours for a loving peck and when he pulls away, you almost want to dive right in for more.

Deciding to tease him, you walk closer to him, hands going around his neck, playing with the hair by his neck. In response his hands wrap around your waist as they rest above your ass.

"Am I the only one you've cooked this for? Just asking since it's so 'famous'."

"Yes, Baby. I used to eat this in college before I met your pretty ass." He responds coyly, Smirking at you, gaze never leaving your figure.

"Mhm okay, l-let's eat." You stutter.

You quickly let go of him, feeling hot all of a sudden as you grab a spoon to eat.

"Wait- let me show you how to eat it." Jungkook stops you, gently taking the spoon out of your hand.

He scoops some rice first and goes over to the pot, scooping his mix into it as well, and when he's done with that, he brings it up your lips, ushering you to open your mouth.

"Open, Princess."

You can't help but ask, "you sure this ain't poisoned, Mr Jeon?"

"Yes, Mrs Jeon. Now eat, you look very hungry, my angel." He chuckles.

You open your mouth to where the spoon can enter and he shoves the food into your mouth.

You chew it up, savoring the flavors, while Jungkook watches with doe desperate eyes waiting for your- preferably praises and compliments to his food.

Lowering the hand covering your mouth as you swallow, you dramatically wipe your hands, head nodding like a food critic.

"Its so good! Give me more." You burst into giggles as you watched Jungkooks eyes relax when you give him a compliment as loud as that.

He questions, "it's good, baby?"

You nod at him as you scoop the mix onto your rice, "soo good! Cook this for us everytime okay?"

Jungkook nods at you, making a cute noise with his mouth as he joins you, eating from the pot.

He feels very happy at this moment with his newlywed wife, in the kitchen eating from their newly purchased pots, in their newly purchased home that they worked very hard for.

"I adore you so much." He whispers in your ear, making you shiver from the baritone in his voice.

You shyly cower as you swallow the last bits of your food, "really?" You look up at the taller figure, staring deep into your eyes.

"Really. I love you so much, Mrs Jeon. Thank you for allowing me to be your husband."

"Aww, Kook. You're gonna make me cry- !I love you more." Tears build up at the corner of your eyes and you hide them by kissing Jungkook senseless.

It's not filled with tongue or the desire for sex, just filled with love and feelings.

Cause in this moment he just wants to adore you and you want to adore him too.

~♥︎~

2K notes · View notes

eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ

Harry Styles x British Royal!Reader

Her Royal Highness Princess YN, daughter to Prince Charles and late Princess Diana, Prince and Princess of Wales, younger sister to Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, and Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex, and granddaughter to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and His Royal Highness Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh would’ve never thought to meet Harry Styles by accident—by literally running into him. And Harry Styles would’ve never thought to meet the Princess of England again after that seemingly fateful afternoon.

faceclaim: Saoirse Ronan

author’s note: If you see any mistakes I made—especially royal title wise—please send an ask (anon asks are enabled!). I seriously love and appreciate your help with that <3

series masterlist » prologue

;

sunflowerbutterfly Sometimes I really hate my job—especially if I have to change out of my comfy pullover and fluffy slippers into a dress, a coat, and some high heels.

Seriously, who invented high heels? Hey Alexa, who invented high heels? … ah, so ancient Iran, aka Persia, is to blame. Great. I will condemn those for centuries dead people happily while I suffer during every step I take this afternoon. Burn in hell, ancient Persian torturer.

Liked by MacMark, murderbane, gingerprince, and 4 others | 6 comments

MacMark You only have to find the shoe.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly It‘s easy for you to say because you can walk in every shoe, Meg 💀

↳ MacMark Well… That is true, but everyone has their pair of shoe 👀

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Then my pair is obviously and most definitely my Nike sneaker or Converse

liked by MacMark

murderbane Rebell against the norms! Wear sneaker!

liked by sunflowerbutterfly

↳ gingerprince Not sure if Granny—or the monarchy as such—would love that suggestion, Meredith.

↳ murderbane Fuck the system!

liked by gingerprince and MacMark

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I know again why Granny won’t let you come to Buckingham for another lunch.

↳ murderbane Oh, come on, YNN! That flying sandwich was fun!

↳ gingerprince Wait, you are the one responsible for the Salmon Sandwich Incident???

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Please, don’t call it that, brother dearest.

↳ murderbane I am! And he definitely can call it that. It’s the truth and nothing but the truth.

liked by gingerprince

gingerprince High heels are way out of my league, but they look uncomfortable. Pack a pair of more comfier shoes as second choice?

↳ sunflowerbutterfly No shit, Sherlock 🙄

↳ gingerprince I am sorry that I don’t know more about the secrets of a lady 👀

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I know again why William is my favorite brother.

↳ gingerprince He is not and we both know it 👀

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Keep on dreaming 😙

↳ gingerprince I love you too, dear sister ❤️

instylemagazine Princess YN is now arriving at Strand Campus of King’s College London in a fitted navy blue mid-calf coat by Gucci and black velvet high heels by Jimmy Choo. She is wearing her signature golden butterfly pin—an heirloom of her mother, late Princess Diana.

Liked by yourfan1, yourfan2, royalistsbitch, annetwist, and 4,327 others | 1,441 comments

dianaforever The pin 🥺

↳ ynismyqueen She once told a reporter that she always wears it to official appearances because it helps her with her anxiety - it’s like her mom is with her 🥺

↳ dianaforever Oh gosh, that’s so sweet but so sad at the same time 😭❤️

yourfan1 Princess YN is a style icon.

yourfan2 Damn, she looks stunning.

↳ yourfan3 True!!!! Though the hat was kinda over the top, but I know for sure that she doesn’t want to wear those but has to

↳ yourfan2 Everyone is wearing those ridiculous hats, so she has to. She will probably rip it off as soon as she is back in the car 😅

royalistsbitch I’m on my knees again. This coat is gorgeous 😮‍💨 But the price 😩

yn_andharryshipper She is wearing Gucci, he is wearing Gucci, I want them to meet, but it will stay a dream, I know it.

hsfan1 Harry’s mom liked this post 🥺❤️

;

She could feel the looming shadows of her two Royal Protection Officers right at her back. Aaron and Egil—the first broad, dark, and Scottish, the latter tall, blonde, bearded, and Swedish—shielded her body from the screams of reporters and blinding lights of their clicking cameras while the princess climbed into the back of the waiting SUV. Inside the cozily warm vehicle, YN ripped off the obnoxious hat she was supposed to wear and threw it without a second glance onto the seat next to her. Meanwhile, her feet kicked off the high heels, and with a strangled groan, the blonde pulled them up one after the other and massaged her soles with closed eyes.

The left front door got opened as Egil climbed into the car; Bernard—her favorite driver—already sat behind the wheel and looked through the rear mirror back at the princess. She smiled at the sight of his kind and twinkling eyes. “To Starbucks, Your Highness?” He asked while Egil buckled up. YN nodded. “That would be great, thank you, Bernard. But could we grab a cup at the one in Notting Hill? Near Holland Park? I’m most definitely not in the mood for a crowd.”—Which would form in front of the Starbucks near the river on the other Thames bank opposite Westminster because most tourists frequented this shop. The driver hummed and used the blinker. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Sighing, YN leaned back in her seat but pushed back upward as Egil reached between his feet, clad in shining black Oxford shoes, and conjured a shoebox. He turned in his car seat to hand it over to the princess. “Your sneaker,” the blonde giant smiled, and YN grinned happily. “I thought I forgot them back at Kensington!” She exclaimed and grabbed the box with her current favorite Converse shoes—one in lavender and the other one in a sunflower yellow. Ever since the reporters had seen the princess wearing the odd color combination, every single pair was sold out in the UK and other parts of the world. The internet had been full of posts spotting the same two Converse shoes the princess regularly wore in paparazzi shots.

“Your lady in waiting had handed me the box right before we left, Your Highness, together with this,” the Protection Officer told her while YN had already put on the left shoe. Chuckling, she accepted the book carefully wrapped in soft tissue paper. She knew which book it contained, so she quickly continued putting on the more comfortable shoes before leaning back and unwrapping the book. The first edition of Pride and Prejudice was her entire pride and joy. YN knew it was kind of posh to carry this particular edition around instead of a cheaper paperback edition, but she only would read in it during the ride and maybe in the line while she waited for her coffee. No one would suspect it for a first edition, only if one had better knowledge about books than the majority of the population.

“Thanks, Egil,” she smiled, and the Swedish giant only nodded softly. “There’s nothing to thank me for, Your Highness.” And with that, he turned back and left the princess reading in silence.

;

Arriving at the comparably empty Starbucks, YN unbuckled while her door had already got opened by Aaron, who had sat in the car following them with two other Protection Officers. Egil slid off his seat and stationed himself between the opened door and the sidewalk, eyes wandering over the few people strolling down the street. She pushed her finger between the pages before climbing out of the SUV and straightened her coat before pushing a blonde curl behind her ear. The book was opened again in her hands because YN knew how this always went: she would leave the car with Aaron and Egil but would have to wait a few more moments until one of the other officers—Matthew was on duty today—had exited the place in question to give them the all-clear.

The happily moving bell announced Matt’s return, and he nodded to the other two officers. “All clear, only a few customers,” he told them, and YN moved without thought; book still opened and nose buried inside it. Aaron jumped forward to open the door, Egil right at her back, and Matt shielded her side from potential harm before he returned to the second car. “Thanks, A,” the princess mumbled, mind deep inside the world of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy.

“I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.” The words left her lips in a whisper and sighing, her finger stroked over the words, always feeling the wonder over literature as soon as she opened particular books. Pride and Prejudice was one of them.

And maybe it was because she read about the devastatingly romantic endeavors of fictional characters who had a much better functioning love life than the Princess of England ever had. Maybe it was because she always had such bad luck in love and interpersonal relationships ever since growing old enough to have the serious kind of it.

But the universe let her run into a solid chest, her precious book tumbling out of her hands and down to the wooden floor where it laid cover-up.

Suddenly, hectic erupted around her, and Aaron and Egil jumped into action while YN still recovered from the sudden stop. Strong hands were gently wrapped around her upper arms to safe her from following her book to the ground, and the fingers of her right hand had buried themselves into the soft fabric of a pullover out of sheer panic and surprise.

Aaron stepped around and stretched out his hands in order to remove the intruder from the princess while Egil tried to maneuver himself between them and the woman. Blinking multiple times, YN shook off the daze; her eyes wandering over an orange and white striped slip-over, a white and brown plaid shirt underneath until they moved to a handsome face with sharp features, a soft beard shadow covering his chin, cheeks, and the skin over his soft looking upper lip. Sea foam green eyes stared wide and in shock down at her, seemingly still taking in the person he had run into, but YN finally was back in reality as Aaron put his hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I need to ask you to step back, sir,” he spoke up in his most scaring officer voice, and as if the brunette only had noticed the presence of the two looming shadows in immaculate black suits now, his wide eyes moved from her face to the towering Scot. After he didn’t follow the order, Aaron grabbed his shoulder and stared him down with a glare as cold as the North Pole. “I said, I need you to step back, sir,” he stressed his request further, the threat lingering in his tone. Egil cleared his throat to get noticed too, and her collision partner almost paled, his hands slowly letting go off her upper arms, but only after he had made sure with another glance she was steady enough.

“Sorry,” he spoke and raised both hands before he took a step back but bent down to get the book from the floor. He looked up to her as he grabbed the old binding, and Harry still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that the Princess of England had run right into his arms. He still wasn’t sure if all of this really happened or if this was a trick of his tired brain. But the grab of one of the suit wearers on his shoulder had been unpleasant enough to make him think that this really is happening to him.

YN stared down at him with just as wide eyes as he paused in his movements and couldn’t comprehend her current reality. Harry Styles crouched in front of her, in a Starbucks store, after she had successfully run him over. Her heart skipped several beats before it started beating in her throat. This wasn’t something usual, not even for the Princess of England.

“Here,” Harry Styles spoke softly after he had raised back to his towering height and held her book in his ring-clad fingers. “Thank you,” she breathlessly whispered but threw her two shadows a warning look. “Everything is fine, Aaron. Egil.” The men nodded shortly but held their gazes settled on the singer, not daring letting him out of their protective sight. YN looked back to the man in front of her, a unsure smile tucking at the corner of her mouth. “I am sorry for that.” It came out almost embarrassed because he obviously didn’t do anything resembling treason or murder. He only had saved her from the embarrassment of meeting the floor with her butt, just like the book had done in her place.

The man with the fluffiest curls she had ever seen only smiled and waved one of his hands lazily. “It’s alright,” he promised before suddenly something seemingly came to his mind. “Your Highness.” And with that, Harry Styles attempted to bow before her, but YN couldn’t have any of that. Gently, she pressed her unoccupied hand and the fist holding her book against his shoulders and shook her head at his confused expression. “Please, don’t do this. I should bow before you.” The princess chuckled. “I mean, I did it often enough in my rooms as a teenager, right in front of a poster of One Direction.” A hand shot up to her mouth and covered it so nothing more embarrassing knowledge would leave it.

And Harry? He stood absolutely stunned there before a soft grin spread over his face—which made him even more handsome in her still unbelieving eyes. But YN didn’t let him utter a single word before pointing over to the staring baristas behind the counter. It wouldn’t have been a surprise if their mouths gaped at the sight of the world’s most famous singer and the Princess of England in their shop. “Would you like to have a coffee? A tea? Something cold? A hot chocolate? After the inconvenience of me running you practically over, it’s the least I can do.” YN was rambling, she knew it but just couldn’t stop.

He made her nervous—as if she wasn’t a grown woman anymore and instead turned back into the insecure teenage girl she used to be (well, even today, she wasn’t the self-confidence in person).

Harry tried to shake his head, but a voice in there screamed to accept the offer to live a few more minutes in her presence. This was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of moment, so he should stretch it as long as possible—not because he wanted the paparazzi to know, but because his former teenager self would kill him if he would run away now. So all he did was slowly nod and instantly patted his shoulder internally because he got to see the most radiant smile he probably had ever witnessed.

Grinning, YN pressed Pride and Prejudice against her chest and suppressed a heavy but blissed sigh at the sight of his growing smile. If she had thought he was irresistible on-screen, she now knew that this assumption was utter bollocks. Harry Styles was even more captivating in reality, face-to-face, and YN almost dreaded the day when he would be in a happy relationship with cats, a wife, and a bunch of kids because it meant she had to bury her crush definitively.

Turning to her protection squad, as she loved to call them, the princess nodded to a table at the halfway point between counter and door. “Why don’t you sit over there until we’re finished? You don’t have to stand around,” the blonde suggested and pointed to a table with a pair of chairs closer to the counter. “You will have the best view of me and the door. Black coffee and a Caramel Frappuccino?” They nodded hesitantly, still not used to the princess's kindness even after years in her service.

As the two went to their assigned table, YN turned back to Harry and smiled up at him. “What would Harry Styles like to have?”

;

pagesix Rumors are getting loud that Harry Styles and Princess YN met at a Starbucks in Notting Hill, London, UK. Several sources claimed to have seen the singer-songwriter and Princess of England together near Holland Park, where she bought him a coffee before talking for hours. Sources say the two celebrities left together after getting another coffee.

Liked by hsfan1, hsfan2, yourfan1, yn_andharryshipper, and 3,287 others | 960 comments

hsfan1 EXCUSE ME???? 😱

1direction4ever She always was a 1D fan, if I remember correctly, so this would be just ✨chefskiss✨

hsfan2 SCREAMING RIGHT NOW

↳ yourfan1 SAME???? I literally can’t breathe.

hsfan3 If that’s true… Save me.

yourfan2 This would be a dream come true for YN 🥺

yn_andharryshipper Please stop pushing my expectations.

hsfan4 I SAW THEM 😱😮‍💨

liked by hsfan1, yourfan2, hsfan3, and 77 others

;

“I still can’t believe I ran into the Princess of England,” Harry laughed softly while walking next to the woman in question, steaming hot coffee in hand. YN grinned up to him, an equally steaming to-go cup in hand while contemplating how she had ended up running into Harry Styles, sharing a table at Starbucks, and now strolling through Holland Park next to him with a second coffee in hand.

This day was definitely something entirely else.

“Believe me. I would have never believed if someone had told me this morning I would meet Harry Styles because I run into him,” the blonde returned and shook her head in utter wonder. The singer gently nudged her to the side. “It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one a tad bashful, just so you know.” YN looked up at him while sipping her sweetened coffee and nodded in agreement. “It takes off the awkward edge of the situation, does it not?”

Harry hummed before turning around for the third time ever since they had left Starbucks to stroll through Holland Park just around the corner. “And they’re at your back every time you leave Kensington or Buckingham?” He dared to ask, and the blonde princess looked over her shoulder as well, where Aaron, Egil, and Matthew walked at a respectful distance but kept their eyes either on her very person or on her surroundings. Even Harry was eyed cautiously from time to time. “Every minute of every day I spend outside Kensington. I am sorry if they make you uncomfortable. And again, sorry for their treatment earlier—they are kind of… quick in their actions when it comes to me.” It still seriously bothered her as soon as she remembered the harsh grip Aaron had used on the man next to her, even though it had been her fault, to begin with.

But Harry only shrugged it off before pushing one hand into the pocket of his coat. “I really don’t mind, and the situation earlier is already forgotten. Really,” he told her with empathy as his eyes had witnessed the unconvincingly furrowed blonde brows. “I only imagine it to be… constricting. I have the freedom to walk around without security when I’m not on my way to shows or interviews and all the stuff, but you…” The princess clearly could see and hear the sympathy of the singer, but she only shrugged with a small smile. “I am used to it—it had always been this way. I can’t remember a moment outside the palace where I didn’t have them trailing behind me. Even during my studies at Oxford.” Now, Harry looked back again. “So… The dark brooding shadow and the light, bright giant always sat behind you in a sea of young adults? Let me guess.” He grinned now, and YN felt her heart beating even faster than it already did. She just had to laugh. “Yes, if you guessed that they had a lot of female admirers trailing behind them, then you are totally right,” the princess chuckled, the memories still very vivid in her mind. The man grinned as well and softly grabbed her hand to steady her as YN kind of stumbled over a bump on the stone path, and both felt their hearts flutter.

“Sometimes I’m too clumsy for this world,” she mumbled behind her coffee cup, and Harry chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, it never shows,” he winked. YN felt the blood rising into her cheeks and hid them in the collar of her coat. “I am glad to hear that. Imagine what Granny would say if she knew that the entire Commonwealth gossiped over their clumsy princess.” She always knew how to change topics involving compliments into a joke. Her family didn’t like that very much. But Harry seemingly caught up to it, judging by the knowing expression settling on his devilishly handsome face. “What does she say about the gossip throughout the country that their princess is a sworn Harry Styles fan?” YN let her head fall back while a laugh escaped her. “She took it surprisingly good. Well, she isn’t a huge fan of me talking to god knows what interviewers, magazines, and newspapers, but she knows my opinion about it and how rarely I change my mind if someone tries to change it—especially if the someone is part of my family. So, naturally, she wasn’t a fan of the entire world knowing the contents of my playlists. But my music preferences never bothered her, and I think she even enjoys some of your songs, but don’t ever mention that to her.” Smirking, YN softly shrugged to end her small monologue. Sometimes she really couldn’t shut her bloody mouth.

Harry laughed under his breath while maneuvering her around the fountain and behind the line of trees to escape a small group of young adults. “I will keep that in mind in case I’ll ever meet the Queen of England. But after today? I won’t say never ever again.” They rounded some sadly-looking bushes—winter should be cursed and banned from her island—before he increased his steps to stop right in front of her. Cocking a blonde brow, YN looked up to him, unsure what this meant. “I think I would’ve known if you ever went to one of my shows.” She hummed, interested in what this would lead to. But now, Harry looked nervous, as if he hadn’t thought this through, but he proceeded anyway after a deep breath. “Would you like to come to one? I could arrange that you won’t be bothered by anyone, save you a spot backstage, block an entire row for you, whatever you want. I just…”

The brunette fell silent, the panic evident in his eyes, and YN just had to think how thoughtful and… lovely he was. “I just thought you’d might like to come, ‘s all,” the singer ended in a lower tone than before, seemingly trying to find a hole in which he could vanish. But YN smiled warmly up to him, and the sight alone eased his rising anxiety tremendously. “Funny thing you mention that. My brothers and papa gifted me a ticket for the London show in your upcoming tour, so… yeah. It will finally happen.” But then, a thought occurred in her mind, and her bright eyes widened. “Could I come to your Fine Line listening?”

Now, he stared down at her with just as wide eyes as she did and felt himself nodding violently. “Yes! Of course! That… that would be great, actually. It’s supposed to be something small and… intimate, so this would be perfect. I… Give me a sec.” With that, he rounded YN with a mission in mind and stepped up to her protection squad. She couldn’t exactly hear what they talked about, but Harry returned with a piece of paper and a pen. He started to scribble something on the white surface as he stopped in front of her and smiled as he handed it over. YN took it, of course, and examined the number and the ‘Harry’ written in pretty handwriting. “You are aware of the fact that I possess and carry around a phone in my pockets?” The princess asked with a smile tucking at her lips, but Harry only shrugged. “I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to seem rude in assuming anything.” Her heart fluttered again at his thoughtfulness.

This man simply was a literal angel.

“It’s my private number. You can call or text me whenever you want. The details for the listening event aren’t wrapped up yet, so if you have dates in mind—let me know, yeah? I’d love to have you there because… I don’t know. You are just easy to talk to, and I think you’d enjoy this little get-together with some people to listen to me rambling about my writing and recording process, and me singing, of course, and that sounds so narcissistic, and I’m sorry for that, and…-“

YN stepped closer to him and tapped his lips gently with the white card to make him stop. “You do not have to worry about how you sound because I know you are not a narcissist. You just love what you’re doing. And I would love to see you in your element and talk to your lovely fans because Harries are the best kind of company.” He sighed deeply before taking a deep breath. “Okay.” She smiled up at him. “Okay,” she repeated and took a glance at her watch. “Fuck.” She surprised them both with her small outburst. “I totally forgot the time, but this was probably the best afternoon I had in a very long time.” Harry took her emptied cup out of her hand and threw them both in the bin next to the sadly-looking bush. “I will never forget the story about the Salmon Sandwich Incident,” the brunette told her with a serious look before breaking out into a chuckle, to which she followed close. “Dito with the Cheeto ice cream story.” Another laughing fit caught the pair before YN slowly held out her hand, which Harry gladly accepted.

They stood there for a rather long time, just shaking hands and staring into each other’s eyes, taking in the sight of one another while stressing the moment into infinity. “I have to go,” YN whispered, and Harry nodded. “I know.” But still, he didn’t let go of her hand, nor let she go of his. “I really want to see you again,” he all of a sudden almost burst out even though his brain had told him to keep this wish a secret. But after nearly three hours in her company, Harry couldn’t let her just go without letting her know what he thought. Surprise settled on her face. “You do?” The surprise was even evident in her voice. “Yes, I do. And not just at events or shows, or on the television.” Her breath hitched in her throat, and the princess swallowed dryly and tried to suck enough oxygen into her lungs to answer him properly.

“I’d love that.”

;

vanityfair Today’s guest is singer-songwriter Harry Styles! We had the pleasure to talk about the process behind his new studio album Fine Line, how life has treated the 26-year-old in the past months, and to which realizations he came during the promotion of his new album.

Liked by sunflowerbutterfly, hsfan1, hsfan2, gemmastyles, jefezoff, and 38,691 others | 14,436 comments

vanityfair “I recently had the most interesting and… and most mind-opening conversation in a very long time. You see, even though there are millions of celebrities out there in the world, there are… I don’t know, differences between some and others. I, for example, can cross the street and get my groceries without security officers behind my back, while others can’t do ordinary things like that—think about it for a second, and you are made painfully aware of the freedom and… and independence you hold. I can’t say it in other words, but I felt privileged when realizing it. Society has to keep that in mind before throwing assumptions through the room because even celebrities are only human.”

liked by hsfan1, yourfan1, annetwist, gemmastyles, and 2,316 others

↳ hsfan1 I’m so sure that he talks about YN if the rumors are true 🥺

↳ yourfan1 that’s definitely about YN, can’t change my mind.

hsfan2 He looked so handsome in that slip-over 😮‍💨

harrystylesforever He speaks the truth.

harrystylesfanpage Handsome, thoughtful, a literal angel. One could not ask for more in a man.

liked by sunflowerbutterfly, hsfan5 and 12 others

yourfan2 I wish the universe would grant me the sight of YN and Harry together in a happy relationship, but I know that that’s not possible because of Royal Protocol or some shit.

↳ royalistsbitch It is possible, but imagine the situation YN is in after her second brother married a “commoner”. She probably has the pressure to marry another royal because her Grandma wants it that way 😩

liked by yourfan2, yourfan3, ynismyqueen and 33 others

;

Returning to Buckingham had been unpleasant. Not because she disliked the palace—she kind of loved it, actually—but because she knew how her Grandma would react after she most definitely had read the articles and assumptions wildly thrown around. Her Granny never really believed what the tabloids wrote, but she still asked every single time her face appeared in one of these ever since that… incident with Lewis Cornwall, son of Nicholas Cornwall, Duke of Hastings and her father’s—former—closest friend. YN knew that she only deeply cared for her youngest granddaughter and always wanted to know her side of the stories circulating through the world before finally going down the drain because something new sparked the tabloids’ interest.

God bless the short attention span of those, the princess thought cynical.

“Her Majesty awaits you in the blue salon,” Harold, one of the many butlers, told her after the blonde had left the car, only two days after her fateful meeting with Harry Styles. With a soft sigh, YN walked up the many stairs, put carpeted hallways behind her, and crossed employees with a gentle smile on her lips and a nod of her head before finally arriving in front of the blue salon. Taking a last deep breath, the princess entered the grand room with the blue wallpapers through the wide-open French doors; her eyes immediately fell onto the white-haired woman sitting on one of the armchairs, signature purse on the coffee table right next to her. A few years back, it had its spot next to her feet, but now, with even more years on her life scale, the Queen opted to have it on elevated places so she didn’t need to bend down anymore.

“Ah, there you are,” the Queen of England greeted her granddaughter, and YN walked over to her, bent down, and pressed a loving kiss to her wrinkled cheek. “Excuse me, Granny. I just got your message and tried to get here as fast as possible,” she explained, but the older woman only dismissed her excuse with a slight raise of her hand. “Nonsense, darling. Only because I scream for attention does not mean you have to rush away from whatever appointment you had to get to your old Grandma.”

Chuckling, YN situated herself on the armchair opposite her and mumbled a silent “Thank you” as Hugh came with the tea. Taking the saucer with the cup of tea on it in hand, she softly stirred through the perfectly brewed Earl Grey with a hint of lemon and a teaspoon of sugar inside. She sometimes preferred milk to lighten the taste a bit, but with her Granny, she always drank it the most British way.

“Am I allowed to take a sip and get a bite of that sandwich, or do you want to get straight to the point?” YN asked with a smile tucking at her lips, and the Queen showed one of her rare grins, specially reserved for her grandchildren and her husband. “I thought I would let you taste the new recipe for the tomato cream first,” Elizabeth returned, and the princess laughed softly before putting down the saucer and the cup and folding her hands in her lap. “No, you can jump straight to the point.”

The Queen sipped on her tea herself before morphing her expression into something resembling seriousness. YN leaned back in the armchair, crossing her legs and elbows resting on the armrests. “I never object your tendencies to wander and stroll around the city, nor do I object your fondness of talking to… interesting magazines like a common celebrity. I fully understand that you belong to a different generation, which handles things differently. But what I have to object to is your contact with said common celebrities.” Cocking a blonde brow, YN waited for her to continue. “A singer, YN,” she almost spat it out as if his profession was something bordering scandalous. All the princess could do was shrug her shoulders. “I don’t see what is so wrong about being a singer for a living, especially if one is a worldwide known and praised artist. He is British, English even, Granny.”

Elizabeth didn’t laugh about it. Instead, her forehead furrowed tremendously, white eyebrows knitted. “This is not something to jest about, YN Diana.” Oh, they had reached the second name dropping. Sighing, YN put both feet on the ground and leaned forward, forearms resting on her knees, confusion visible on her face. “I don’t understand the fuzz about all of it, Grandma. You never objected to my friendship with Meredith or Archie, even after he had given up every single title and started his acting career. Why the sudden change?” The Queen eyed her intently. “Meredith and Archibald are proper associations for a princess.” Now she had lost her entirely. “And Harry Styles is not? The most thoughtful and loveliest man ever in existence is not a proper acquaintance?” Her Grandmother sighed deeply. “You don’t know him, YN, and… look how he dresses. This is certainly not an adequate connection for a princess. You have to think about this family, YN, about your title and position. You are not a commoner, so you cannot behave like one, not if you do not want to end like your…-“

The princess raised jerkily to both feet and let the Queen herself grow silent. “Do not dare to end that sentence how you intended to end it,” she whispered with a strained voice, anger boiling in her body, eyes resting unmoving on the older woman in front of her.

Gladly, Jameson just entered with a bow but stopped at the sight of the standing princess. “I am sorry, Your Highness, I didn’t know you were here. I will return when…-“ But YN shook her head. “No, it’s alright, Jameson. I was on my way out anyway,” she told him with as much grace as she could muster because she felt like screaming and leaving this place running. She spared another glance at her Granny before curtsying just as she had been drilled all her life. “Grandmother,” was all the princess said before leaving the blue salon to return to Kensington, back into the safety of her home.

;

First of all, thank you so freaking much for the AMAZING and mindblowing support on the first chapter of this little series. I’m already thinking about adding more chapters to it because I’m so in love with it. Let me know if you’d like that or if I should add little blurbs here and there! And now, thanks for reading this second chapter. Hope y’all liked it <3

Taglist: @onecrazydirectioner @tinyhrry @feestyles @r3vivedbur @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @oh-its-jennyyy @butdaddyiluvvhim @cwiphswmwasohmm @agustdpeach @sleutherclaw @formulasatellite @princessmiaelicia @rororo06 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @venomsvl @maraudersrry @theroosterswife24 @lovurryy @indierockgirrl @lazybot @laura-naruto-fan1998 @awesomebooklover17 @ihavelovedyousincewewere18 @illicithallways @mrosales16 @keriberry @b-reads-things @bugg06

I hope I got everyone on the taglist. If you miss your name—please reach out!

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once-upon-an-imagine · 2 months

Text

Jaded - Charlie Weasley

A/N: so, I know that the last thing I should be doing right now is start another series… and yet… here we are xD also, I’m sorry, I know She Is Love won, but I think we have established by now that my mind kind of does whatever it wants and I have no control whatsoever xD it’s all chaos here… anyways, I hope you like it :)

Request - Anonymous asked: Hello, I hope you’re doing okay my lovely. I was wondering if you could possibly wite maybe a enemies/rivals to lovers with Charlie Weasley and the reader? (Lots of sarcastic banta back and forth maybe they both work on the dragon reserve and are entrusted with transporting a very dangerous dragon to a new reserve, but something happens on the journey and just them to are trapped (either with the dragon or not) and then an argument that leads to some form of confession? This is so long I’m so bloody sorry, and I hope your writers block subsides [full request here]

Warnings: Charlie’s a bit of an asshole [but not really] for now, I think that’s it but please let me know if I’m missing something, also reader is from the Nott family

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D

Your name: submit What is this?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Jaded

Hey…j-j-jaded… you got your mama’s style, But you’re yesterday’s child to me. So jaded, you think that’s where it’s at, But is that where it’s supposed to be?You’re gettin’ it all over me… X-rated

Charlie fucking Weasley.

That stupid name had haunted you for more than ten years now. There were very few people you hated in your life but his name was definitely on that list.

After enduring seven years of him at Hogwarts, you thought you’d finally be free when he was being drafted to play Quidditch professionally and you would move to Romania to fulfill your dreams of studying dragons. But no, for some stupid twist of fate, he decided not to become a Quidditch player and all of the sudden there was another opening at the exact Romanian Dragon Sanctuary that you had applied to so, again, here he was. And it seemed that no matter what you did, you were never able to escape Charlie fucking—

“WEASLEY!” you yelled when you finally spotted him, not far from your hut.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite princess” you heard his voice as you approached him. “How can I help you, love?” he asked, brushing his hair away from his face, showing off his stupid tattoos on his stupid strong arms.

“I have asked you many times, to stop calling me that!” you glared at him. “I need to speak with you” you said, before you went back into your hut and he only raised his eyebrow before following you.

“Is this how you treat your guests, love?” he said, walking in and leaning on your desk as he started going through your stuff.

“I didn’t invite you” you smirked.

“You just did” he glared a little at you.

“Don’t be confused, Weasley, this is strictly business” you glared at him.

“Of course it is” he chuckled. “Are you working on the Sleeping Draught for the dragons? Weren’t we supposed to work on this together?”

“Yes, that is correct, Weasley. Excuse me for not wanting to wait 45 minutes to see you flirting with the group of girls casually visiting the reserve today” you told him.

“Oh, so you did notice that” he smiled. “Sorry, love, you must remember how it is” he said, brushing a hand through his curls and flashing his smile at you as you rolled your eyes. “I mean, I had a complete section cheering for me back at school” he shrugged.

“Oh, yes. How could I forget?” you asked, sarcastically.

“You don’t have to be so mean about it” he pouted. “Why are you making so much of it?” he asked, grabbing one of the phials.

“Why did I just find out that you are coming with me to Hogwarts, Weasley?”

“I asked first, Nott” he smirked, winking at you.

“Could you please not mess up my things?” you said glaring at him, knowing he did it just to anger you. “I am making more because we are bringing four dragons, not three” you explained.

“What? That doesn’t make sense, why? Isn’t it just three champions?”

“Well, obviously something happened, and now there’s four” you explained. “Now tell me why Steven just informed me that you are coming. Evan was supposed to bring them with me” you insisted.

“Tah-dah!” he smiled. “Surprise, darling! Looks like something came up and you got an upgrade so I’m coming with you instead” he smiled.

“Feels like a downgrade” you muttered.

“Hey!” he said, placing his hand on his chest and looking at you pretending to be hurt. “How can you say that? This is going to be so much fun. You, me, back at Hogwarts, like the good old days” he smiled flirtily at you. “Remember?”

“I’m not sure what days you’re remembering, Weasley” you said pushing him away. “But good is not what I would use to describe them” you told him.

“Of course not” he rolled his eyes, grabbing another bottle on your desk and throwing it in the air before grabbing it again.

“Give me that!” you said, grabbing it from him.

“Okay, so, since we’re getting four-” he said, as he grabbed one of your notepads.

“Stop saying we. You’re not coming with me” you glared at him.

“Oh, I beg to differ, love, see here?” he said, pointing at the paper you had earlier. “That’s my name, right next to yours” he smiled. “It’s official” he added. “So, let’s see what you’re bringing” he said, looking through your notes. “Chinese Fireball, Swedish Short-Snout, Common Welsh Green” he muttered. “Oh, I know, we should take the Hungarian Horntail we got last week” he smiled.

“What? Absolutely not!”

“Why not? That would be perfect” he said, grabbing a quill and adding it to the list.

“Weasley, that is one of the most dangerous dragon breeds and you want to take her to a school full of young students, do you have any idea how irresponsible that is?”

“Relax, it’s for the first task, I doubt it’ll be anything dangerous. Plus that’s why we’re going.

“No! We should take an Antipodean Opaleye” you said, trying to grab the notepad from him but he placed it out of your reach.

“Oh, come on, love. Live a little, I would have killed to see a Hungarian Horntail at that age” he smirked. “Nothing bad is gonna happen. We won’t let it” he insisted.

“You haven’t even spent time with her, Weasley, I have. I am telling you this isn’t a good idea!”

“What isn’t a good idea?” you both stopped when your boss, Steven stepped inside your hut.

“Well, we were just talking about how the fourth dragon should be the Hungarian Horntail” Charlie quickly said. “It was actually (Y/N)’s idea” he smiled.

“No, it wasn’t! I was saying that we should take the Antipodean Opaleye!”

“Come on, love, we are already taking a Common Welsh Green, we should bring something more exciting” Charlie insisted as he passed the notepad to Steven.

“I just don’t think that this-”

“I’m with Weasley” Steven said, before you could even finish. Of course, he was. Not because Steven was a jerk. He was actually a good boss. But this was the story of your life. Charlie would get away with anything he wanted. “I think the Hungarian Horntail would be an interesting choice. Plus, you’re going and if anyone can handle her, it’s you, (Y/N)” he smiled. “I’ll go make the arrangements while you finish the potion” he said, leaving your hut before you could argue.

“See? Lovely idea” Charlie smirked.

“Why did you do that? I’m telling you is not a good idea to bring her. She’s still settling in the idea of being around people-”

“You worry to much, love” he said, grabbing your phial and throwing it in the air again, but this time, he accidentally dropped it. “Uh-oh” he said, before smiling innocently at you as you took a deep breath. “That wasn’t… part of the Sleeping Draught potion, was it?”

“You mean the potion we’re giving to the, now four, dragons we have to transport that you were supposed to be helping me with 45 minutes ago?” you asked, upset.

“Uh-”

“Yes, Weasley, that was part of the potion” you told him.

*-*Flashback*-*

“Well, look who finally decided to show up” you said, annoyed, as Charlie entered the class and ran over to your desk. You couldn’t believe you were stuck with him as your Potions partner for the entire year.

“Sorry, princess. Practice ran late” he smiled, sitting next to you.

“Don’t call me princess. And I don’t understand how being in the Quidditch team gives you immunity so you can show up whenever you want to and work on half a potion” you said, as you added the next ingredient.

“Come on, love. Don’t hate on the team” he said smirking at you. “Everyone loves the team!”

“Oh, yeah, I have such a deep admiration for guys who fly around in sticks with other guys” you said with a sly smirk.

“I know you’re joking, but when you use that sexy voice, you know it turns me on a little” he mocked you.

“Ugh, I can’t stand you!”

“Then sit down” he smirked.

“Shut up! And help me with this thing, or I’m taking your name off the Potion” you said, as he saw the potion you were making on your book.

“Ugh, give it, you’re doing it wrong!”

“Excuse me? I have brewed the Volubilis Potion many times before, Weasley. And I am already halfway through, without your help. I am not doing it wrong!” you snapped frustrated.

“Yes, you are!” Charlie said grabbing the jar of Syrup of Hellebore from your hand but you didn’t let it go.

“No! Give it!” you said pulling it towards you.

“Ugh! You stuck-up, know-it-all drag!”

“Take that back you pompous Quidditch nut!” you argued, neither of you noticing Professor Snape coming towards your table.

“Mr. Weasley, Miss Nott-”

“Give it, Nott!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Fine!”

Charlie hadn’t been prepared for you to let it go and he ended up dropping the whole thing on the cauldron making it explode all over Professor Snape’s face. When you heard the small explosion, the entire class went dead silent and the two of you slowly turned to see your teacher’s face covered in soot.

“You two. Detention. Tonight. My office” Professor Snape said; as you both resisted with everything you had to not laugh at the change of his voice. “50 points off Gryffindor and 30 off Slytherin” he said before walking to his desk again.

“That’s not fair!” Charlie argued.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking in in the middle of my class, Mr. Weasley” he added.

“Ugh! Thanks a lot” Charlie snapped at you.

“Me? You’re blaming me? You’re the one who dropped it!”

“Only because you wouldn’t let it go!”

“Enough!” you heard Professor Snape from the front of the class. “Both of you out of my classroom!” he said standing up.

“But I wasn’t-”

“NOW!”

“See what you did?” Charlie said once you were outside.

“Me? I had never been kicked out of a class or had detention for that matter! This is all your fault!”

“No, it’s not! You were making it wrong!” he insisted.

“UGH! Just because you’re the Captain of your bloody team, you think you’re the boss of everything! And everyone!” you snapped frustrated.

“It’s not my fault you can’t stand to be wrong!”

“You are so… so-”

“Charming?” he said smirking and raising his eyebrow at you.

“Vexing!” you snapped, as you walked down the hall but he followed you.

“Really? Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either!” he glared at you. “‘Oh, look at me, I’m (Y/N) Nott. I’m a patronizing know-it-all princess who thinks is better than anybody else!’” he said mocking your voice.

“Ugh! I don’t talk like that! You’re infuriating!”

“You know what? I hope you fail all your NEWT’s!”

“Yeah? I hope you go bald!”

“I hope you end up an old spinster!”

“I hope they cancel Quidditch!”

“Take that back!” Charlie snapped.

“Make me!” you said smirking at him.

“You know what? I hope that once we graduate here, I won’t ever have to see your conceded face again!” he said, before turning around and leaving for the Gryffindor tower.

“My thoughts exactly, Weasley” you muttered to yourself before walking to the Library.

*-*End of Flashback*-*

“We can fix it, love. Don’t worry” he said, cleaning up the mess. “See? Just like old times” he smiled. “This is gonna be fun, princess!”

“Don’t call me that” you glared at him, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to contain yourself.

Yes, you had one very big problem. His name is Charlie fucking Weasley. And you have no fucking idea how you’re supposed to survive the next few weeks with him.

To Be Continued

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: so… part 2?

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley series

183 notes · View notes

fishnets-fingers · 1 year

Text

Out by the Docks

“Did you um- have you… touched yourself more to the thought of me?” She asks him quietly.

“What do you think, hmm?” He responds with a smile. He had come on his stomach and hands an embarrassing amount of times replaying that night. It was pathetic how much she had him in a chokehold.

“I would like to kiss you,” she says, scooting forward to slot her knees between his. “Would you like that too?”

He nods, tongue licking his lips in anticipation as his heart kicks up again. The butterflies start flapping about in his tummy as she leans in with puckered lips.

“I said that I’d like to kiss you not that you could,” he explains when she looks at him with furrowed brows. “You gotta ask me nicely, if you want me to kiss you,” he teases, kissing the tip of her nose.

“You want me to beg?” She scoffs.

PAIRING - spy!harry x princess!y/n

a/n - the long awaited part two to forbidden hours. it was initially supposed to be a small blurb that somehow became twice as long. thank you for waiting and i hope you like this part as much as i do. if you have any requests or ideas for the next part, let me know. as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome. happy reading!

Word Count - 6.2k (not proofread)

MASTERPOST

.....

பரிசோதி. Examine. Harry runs a check of his catamaran for the fourth time in the past hour. Sailing was something he grew up doing and that did not mean he took it nonchalantly. It was not an easy task in the slightest; if one was not cognizant and five steps ahead of every single aspect of it, the sea would consume them. In a lot of ways it was an intricately woven tapestry of mastering the control of being at the mercy of the ocean. Two completely opposing beliefs somehow meshing together - like acrobats swinging from one side to another, it might seem like they are at the mercy of gravity and the ropes beneath them but they spend their lives mastering and learning how to taunt the inevitable forces without succumbing to it.

“The sea is a cruel mistress, Harry,” his father would often bark at him when he got one of the knots wrong. Which would then result with him doing a plethora of knots over the next few days until his father was convinced he could hold his own with the crew. He looks around, one more time, for good measure. His oars were greased up, the fabric of the sail - albeit dirty - was without tears, he had more ropes than necessary, a smaller set of paddles in case he’d lost it, food to hold him over, and a can of water.

Late, he sighs, sitting in his boat that was bobbing along with the lazy waves. The sun was over his head shining radiantly casting small shadows. It was past noon and no one had come to hand him the message from Princess Y/N. Did she forget? Can’t be. Maybe the stupid guard is lost, besides, the docks were vast. He reaches into his bag grabbing a fistful of puffed rice and throws it in the water, making the fish - that were previously eating the algae from the sides of his boat - flounder up and nibble on the white flakes. He looks over at their streamlined moist bodies flipping over others as they ravenously eat the floating white specs and his hands absentmindedly tightens the knot that was anchoring his boat to the side of the docks.

“Took you long enough. Have you no regard for people’s time,” he grumbles, as a shadow blocks the beam out light illuminating the iridescent scales of the fish.

“That’s no way to speak to the Princess,” she replies, with a hint of mirth in her tone. He whips his head around to find Y/N towering over him on the wooden dock.

“I apologise, your highness. I did not know it was you,” his cheeks tinge with pink as he vaults over to the wooden structure.

Y/N did not look like a member of the royal family today. There were no silks or expensive jewelry adorning her body, her hair was not done up high with flowers. It didn’t make her any less captivating in the slightest with her raven hair slicked back in a low bun, a red cotton saree with the long end twisted around her waist to make a belt to keep the top half of the saree intact since she was not wearing a blouse, and a small black dot in between her eyebrows. She had clasped an oxidised silver ornament around her neck and a small ring around her septum. She looked like she’s spent her whole life here out by the docks rather than the giant mansions with sprawling gardens.

“You - um - look-” Harry starts.

“I’m in disguise, Mr. Styles.” She answers, pulling out a blank parchment paper and hands it over to him. “I apologise for being late. I had stopped by the bazaar.”

“The bazaar, Princess Y/N,” he repeats, looking over her shoulder to find it empty.

“Having guards following me sort of defeats the purpose of the disguise, Harry.” She catches on as his eyes scan behind her.

“Of course.” He looks at the parchment in his hands turning it around. “It’s blank.”

“It is.”

“I thought I needed to sail to Lanka to deliver a message, ma’am,” he mumbles, looking down at the sheet of yellowed pulp running his thumb over to feel for any creases or indentations.

“Ma’am,” Y/N snorts out. “Really? You’re calling me a ma’am after what happened the other night,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief.

“It’s protocol,” he tells her blankly.

“Was it also protocol to crowd me against my desk in the middle of the night?” She arches her brow, enjoying the way his face flushes with colour. “The message is intended for the recipient’s eyes only. Karthi will know what to do.”

He nods, folding the paper and slotting it into a small zipped pocket of his dhoti pants. “I should set sail soon,” he informs her, making his way into his vessel. “Looks like a storm’s heading this way.”

“How can you tell, Mr. Styles,” she asks, stepping forward to look over at the horizon to find rain laden grey clouds but is instead met with tiny fluffy cotton akin ones dotting the powdery blue skies.

“I can smell it. There was a ring around the moon last night and red skies at dawn. It probably won’t break ground until a few days.”

“Very impressive,” she praises, looking down at him. “Here, I bought you some food for your travel,” she shifts through her linen bag that was draped over her shoulder. She pulls out a box of rambutan and some partially cooked spiced lentils.

“Thank you, Princess.” He stashes it next to his metal box of food supply. “Do you come to town often in your disguise?”

“Not very-” she is interrupted by the sound of people marching and a loud whistle followed by a booming voice asking the soldiers to fall in a single file. “That’s the admiral,” she whispers, eyes bulging out of her head. “Fuck. If he catches me I’m so dead.”

“Hop on,” Harry tells her.

“What?!?” She whisper shouts at him. “I have to head back.”

“I’ll take you to the palace. I know a way - right behind your garden. Get in,” Harry offers, coming over to the side and holding onto the side of the dock.

Y/N balks, looking down at his rickety catamaran. The structure looked like it was going to wither away in a few days - calling it old would be an insult at this point. Prehistoric was more so the right word. The ropes were frayed and seemed used. She is pretty sure the thing was built before she was born. No way in hell, she shakes her head.

“Princess,” he urges, as the sounds of footfall grow closer and closer.

“I’ll walk back. Maybe I can slip past them,” she tells him.

“It sounds like twenty men, how are you going to slip past all of them,” he shakes his head. “You’ll only be dragging me down with you.”

“I’ve slipped in and out of the castle loads of times,” she reasons.

“There’s only one way out of here, unless you fancy swimming,” Harry points out. “Y/N,” he insists, holding out one of his hands. She lets out a sigh and grips his palm as she climbs into the bobbing catamaran. Once she gets situated, Harry grips onto the oars and starts speedily rowing from the dock, away from the bay.

Harry looks over her every so often at Y/N as he steadily paddles his boat away. She was curled into herself, looking very unsure with her hands wrapped around her arms as she looked back at the disappearing docks. When the vessel bobs due to a sudden current she pales, gripping onto the wooden plank of her seat firmly, eyes never drifting back to the pier. He’s never seen her like that, and he certainly did not peg her to experience trepidation, uncertainty, and fret. The memory of the first time he met her was etched into the deep recesses of his brain.

It was eight months since he’d seen her for the first time. He had quickly become fast friends with the Crown Prince - her older brother - who had invited him to train within the palace grounds. He made his way into the halls of the building in wonder of tall ceilings and intricately carved woodwork and artwork and was led to the sparring arena. Vikram was waiting for him sans armour - he believed that having armour on while practice lets one have a certain air of nonchalance with the training thereby removing the stakes. His moves and close combat skills were immediately applauded by the members there with the Princes - Vikram and Karthi - asking a guard to take him to the stables, so he could pick his own horse and learn how to ride. That’s when Y/N walked into the arena, dressed immaculately in a cream silk saree and a colourful pashmina wrapped around her shoulders. There was no jewelry on her body other than a pearl choker and her hair was pulled back into a loose braid. There were four other handmaidens following her, who’d stopped at their tracks by the opened double doors as they giggled at the sweat laden covered men.

“What?” She stalked forward and snapped at her brothers.

“Good day to you too, little girl,” Vikram mocks.

“I have far more important things to do than entertain you, Vikram.”

“Don’t get snippy with me because I pulled you out of philosophy class -”

“A class you should be attending,” Karthi notes, throwing his arm around his sister’s shoulder. “One word to the Queen Mother and you won’t see the outside of the library for the next month,” the two giggle together.

“Books don’t teach you anything, combat does. Anyway don’t go ganging up on me,” Vikram raises his hands in submission. “I just called you to meet my new friend,” he cocks his head to the side. “Y/N meet Harry Edwards Styles.”

Harry feels her gaze pierce right through him, her eyes roamed up and down his body. Being scrutinised made him straighten his back upright - mostly in a way to show off his stature. After a few moments her hickory eyes finally settled at his jade orbs. “Mr. Styles,” she greets him with a polite smile. “You must be the sea merchant who’d bought the crates of berry seeds.”

“Your highness,” he bows. “The sea merchant is my father.”

“Ah, makes sense. You seem awfully young to master navigating the treacherous waters of the Pacific.”

“Thank you, Princess,” he mutters, cheeks heating up at her calling him young.

“That was hardly a compliment, Mr. Styles. I was simply noting your lack of experience,” she lifts up her chin, keeping it parallel to the floor. “I understand from what my brothers have told me you plan on riding to battle with Vikram.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“As noble as your intentions are, how are we to know your allegiance lies with the flag of Chozhamandalam? You landed here seven- eight months ago, am I wrong? I don’t doubt that you’ve seen many kingdoms in your father’s quests, why are you choosing to devote your life to mine? Why not the Crown of England, the land of you and your forefathers?”

“Y/N,” Vikram states firmly. “You are insulting my friend by insinuating things.”

“I’m not insinuating anything, Vikarm. I’m simply doing the grunt work for you like always,” she bites back.

“Stop th-”

“Well she’s not wrong to ask this, brother. Especially after what happened the last time,” Karthi notes.

“You two never stop throwing what happened ten years ago in my face every single time,” Vikram gets frustrated.

“Your highnesses,” Harry interrupts their squabble. The princess staggered him in a lot of ways, she just met him but it seemed that she had some sort of an upper hand with him and it didn’t stem from her lineage. She seemed to know a lot about him from growing up in different parts of the world to the seeds his father’s crew arrived with. Surely royalty had no business knowing inventory of all the consignments at the ports; he’s sure they had people for that. His accent once thick and pronounced - resembling the dialect of his mother’s village - had now got muddled up spending time with his father’s crew men and it’s settled into a transatlantic hybrid; is that how she pegged him to be English?

Unlike most women he’s met, Princess Y/N looks directly at him - through him in a manner of speaking - holding eye contact until their exchanges come to a halt. It felt as if she was giving you her utmost attention at all times, but it was also unnerving because Harry felt like she was also playing a game of chess. Slotting individuals in their designated squares after she thoroughly sized someone up. She was still breathtaking as the day he first laid eyes on her but seeing her up close with her gaze trained on him, made him gulp down the nerves that made him feel like she was a step above him, as he spoke, “I understand the need for Princess Y/N to ask me those questions… If I may,” he looks at her brothers flanking her sides for approval.

“Please do, Mr. Styles.” She motions with her hand for him to continue.

“You are right, Princess Y/N, I have spent very little time in your dynasty as compared to everyone in this room but it does not take away my love for the people. You see, I have seen many places sailing with my father but almost all of them considered me a passerby - especially countries where people looked different to me. I have seen people treat people like sewage based on the colour of their skin, the faith they practice, or the wealth they’ve inherited. The first day I came to these shores, unloading heavy crates at the port, an old woman - who was walking off with a basket of fish - came up to the crew and noticed that we looked worn out and offered up some of the fresh catch so we could cook and eat. The captain denied it, but she insisted we must eat and somehow managed to have my father and the crew over to her house. She cooked for us. A woman who we did not know up until that day, invited strangers into her house and made us a hearty meal. So, to answer your question, my allegiance lies with the people, not a flag.”

“Satisfied?” Vikram smirks, taunting Y/N by bumping his shoulder on hers.

“And as for England, I haven’t been there in forever. I don’t have any ties that bind me other than it being the country my mother resided in.”

“Seems like you have your way with words, Mr. Styles,” she smiles up at him. Harry can’t help the way satisfaction brews in his chest in response to her smile.

“Oh, Y/N, Harry is good with swords, too,” Karthi tells her.

“That so?” She arches her brow. “Now that is something I need to witness,” she says, walking over and picking one of the swords that was mounted on the wall.

She unsheathes it, swishing it once to get a sense of its weight, before stepping into the circle. “I like a good challenge. Hope you deliver,” she tells him.

“I don’t quite understand,” he says, looking around the room for signs that it was an elaborate plan, only to be met with none. “Princess Y/N, I’m not going to fight you,” he steps back.

“Why not?” She arches her brows, pulling off the pashmina that was wrapped around herself and tossing it onto the readily waiting hands of a scurrying handmaiden.

“Because women do not fight, ma’am,” he mumbles, and both Princes snicker at his response.

“Do not? Or not allowed to.” She challenges him.

“It is not what I mean-”

“Do you dare disobey my orders?” Y/N cuts him off. “Now fight. Don’t let up easy because you think women can’t hold their own. If you do, I’ll make you disappear without a trace.”

He nods, squaring his shoulders and hoisting up his own sword. Far be it for him to disobey the Princess Royal. He’ll give her the fight she was asking for.

He advances first, much to his surprise. He expected her to charge at him but she gilded around the periphery matching his moves, unwilling to attack. She swivels his sword to the side and from then their duel mimicked a dance They moved harmoniously, almost like each move was choreographed, both matching each other moves, the sharp end of the blades kissing each other only to be redirected elsewhere. He can’t help but get distracted by the way her supple skin feels when she brushes past him, and the way her scent niggles his heart. He wonders if she feels it too, but no cues that signaled him. They were synchronized - strike for strike, manoeuvre for manoeuvre, a sharp turn for a turn. But when Harry notices, her eyes darting to his feet, he figures out her next move and backs away when she advances forward trying to trip his feet with her own as her sword swivels around. It happens seamlessly, Harry twists around to trap her arm that’s clutching the sword and lunges forward to press the tip of his scimitar to her side of her throat.

He expects her to look up at him with surprise and even a hint of admiration - both looks he was no stranger to from women - but there was no sense of defeat in her face. Instead, her eyes glinted at him as her lips tugged up in a smug smile. His brows knit in confusion and he follows her eyes, feeling a pointy object push against his sternum - harder this time. Y/N’s holding up a small shiv, which she tugged from its sheath tucked against her waist, angled directly for his heart.

“A stalemate,” she informs him.

“How?” He asks, suddenly very aware that he’s got her pressed against him in front of a dozen people. She looks even more beautiful up close, with a bead of sweat running down her temple, her honeyed skin flushed from exertion, her full cheeks, flecks of gold in her eyes under the sunlight, a tiny crescent shaped birthmark on the corner of her chin, lips like a flower petal.

He’s almost reluctant to let her get away from his grasp when she steps backward, immediately missing her warmth on him. A soldier collects the sword from her, before she tucks her shiv away in its holder. She explains, while draping her pashmina the handmaiden scurried over to give, “You got cocky. You thought you figured out my next move and thereby acted in a manner that made your vision tunnel to the sword in my hand. While you celebrated your victory before your sword even touched my throat, you failed to realise that I had a shiv pointed at your heart.”

Her loud exhale of relief snaps him out of his reverie, her shoulder relaxes a smidge but Harry notices that she’s still tightly wound. Her arms are crossed protectively around herself with her knees towards her chest. She should look out of place in the catamaran he’d bought a few months ago at a bargain - bear boned structure unlike the things she was used to - but she didn’t. Almost like the wooden plank in front of him was made for her. She didn’t look out of place, just a tad nervous. “We’re in the clear,” she declares, once the pier completely disappears from view as he rows over to another bay nearby. It was rocky and jagged, lined with palm and coconut trees, dense with shrubbery sprouting all over the sand with an odd dollop of violet flowers breaking the monotony of green.

“Told you I knew a place,” he smirks. “Besides,” he remarks, leaning backward to get more movement with his row as he navigates away from the rocks and towards the shore. “It’s the least I could do. Disguising yourself and coming all the way to the docks to give me food and bid me farewell.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Y/N scoffs. “I didn’t sneak out of the palace for you.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?”

“Stop being so cocky,” she admonishes him as her eyes fall on the way the muscles on his arm flex and bulge as he moves the oars. The veins on his hands looked delicious with the way he gripped the oars as he tugs and pulls back as he moves.

“Can’t help it, Princess.” He chuckles. “Especially with you drooling over my arms.”

Y/N feels the heat scorch her cheeks from his comment, immediately tearing her eyes away. “Shut up, Harry.”

“How was your trip to the capital? Did you confront your Uncle?” He inquires, asking her about the incident that led him to break into her chamber.

“Busy. The capital is never not busy. Dad’s sick,” she adds the last part quietly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” There has been a hushed talk among the people about the King’s decline in health. Stories of people coming down from the far East and embedding needles in his flesh, and letting leeches draw impure blood spread like wildfire.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. People contract illnesses all the time. I’m sure it will pass.” She turns to the shores, eyes scanning to see if there are people around and Harry does the same, even if he knows that this area of the bay is always deserted. “I didn’t talk to my Uncle,” she answers.

“Why not? Won’t it be best to put a stop to it right now?”

“Why would I let him know that I know what he’s plotting?” She shrugs. “It’s not about putting a stop to it, it’s how you do it. I didn’t talk to him. I asked to meet with the governors instead. Told them it was time we start looking for brides for the future King. With Dad’s health, we must be prepared for Vikaram’s coronation and it would not be a good look, if he did not have a queen by his side at age of twenty five.”

“That helps how?”

“Easy. While they were busy squabbling over what kingdom to approach for talks of courtships, with fear brewing in their chest about the possibility of the Dynasty having added support from another kingdom. I’d simply said that I do not wish that and I would much rather prefer that the Crown Prince marry a Chola woman of nobility - one that knows our ways and our people. I’d pointed out that many of the governors - especially the ones who were meeting with my Uncle - themselves have daughters who were fit to be the future queen,” she smiles, satisfied with herself.

“Smart. There’s no way they’re going to support your Uncle now. Pitting swindling tax money and being the power that comes with being father of a future queen. Why would they not want to be the in-law of the Crown?”

“Exactly. You seed the idea of climbing up the ladder, and they are putty. There’s nothing more seductive than power. My Uncle’s support ought to dwindle.”

She is a good politician and the thought makes his chest swell in pride. Harry will never understand royal life. He covets the glitz and glamour that comes with hitting the genetic lottery but the more he spent time with the heirs the more he learnt that it was all exhausting mind games, endless duties to fulfil along with conducting yourself the way people deemed fit. It must suck. Uncle who doted on you growing up is the same one that's planning to overthrow you all this time, he thinks. He pulls the oars in when he feels the boat make contact with the sand bed, jolting the two in the wooden structure.

Y/N lurches forward from the sudden movement, hands coming to grip his forearms to brace herself. “Sorry,” she mumbles, straightening up and squaring off her shoulders.

“Are you sure you didn’t come all the way to the docks to not see me, Princess?” He teases.

“You think highly of yourself, Harry,” she laughs, reaching in her linen bag and shifting through it.

“How could I not? Besides look at where you got me,” he gestures to the scenery around them. It was just the two of them on his catamaran by the shore, the sun shining high up in the sky, and a cool breeze makes it way to them making the leaves and branches of the trees dance in its rhythm. Awfully convenient, he wonders as they bask in the solitude of the crashing waves and the screech of birds.

“I got you?” She scoffs, raising her eyebrows. “If I recall correctly, it was you who pulled me into your boat. So, who got who alone?”

A right menace, he shakes his head. “Why are you here then, Y/N?” He hopes it’s to continue where they’d left off that night, his body pressed up unbelievably close to her. He doesn’t miss sparing a glance - when she tucks a stray stand of hair behind her ear, inadvertently moving the fabric of her saree exposing the soft skin of her belly rising and falling as she breathes. Even without all the fanfare around her appearance, she never looked less gorgeous.

She opens her palm, revealing a few brown candies wrapped in thin butter paper. A candy he knew all too well. It was popular in the port town. Sweet tamarind candy. “For these,” she admits. “My family thinks I should not be eating peasant treats. So, whenever I come to town to check on how the people are doing and how the children are responding with the school’s curriculum, I make sure to buy this in bulk from the market and stash it in my room.”

“You do it often?”

“Not as often as I like,” she admits, stuffing them back in her bag.

“Didn’t peg you as a sneak. Why not come to check on the people as the princess?”

“Because people don’t talk to me. They talk to the Princess. The crown. If they know I’m coming, they don’t see me, they see the ostentatious display of wealth and put on the best version of themselves. I want my people to talk to me, unfiltered as possible.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t been caught,” Harry claims. “It’s not the best disguise, Y/N. I can see right through it.”

“That’s because you actually bother to look at me. You’d be surprised how little people actually look into my eyes. People don’t pay attention to people they don't care about, especially ones that are from a lower caste and don’t draw too much attention to themselves. You’d be surprised how many people bumped into me today without so much as an apology.” She laughs, the tinkling sound cutting right through the monotonous sound of waves carding against the shore. “Besides, I’ve got my lady-in-waiting covering for me and my guards are standing outside the door, thinking I’ve taken to the bed,” she shrugs.

“Next time let me know.” The words tumble out of Harry’s mouth before his brain can comprehend. “Can’t have people bumping into you.”

A smile blooms across her face. “I’ll survive. Thanks for the offer though,” she replies, pursing her lips together in an attempt to refrain from telling him how cute he looked.

“You know,” Harry starts, taking one of her hands in both of his. “I was kinda hoping you came here and demand that you continue where we left off,” he confesses, green eyes flicking up at hers to gauge her reaction.

Y/N can’t help but reel at the sensation of his slightly calloused thumb drawing circles on the back of her hand. “What if I did?”

“I think I would like that very much.” Harry gives her a shy smile. “Was kinda beating myself up for not kissing you that night.”

“I didn’t know you liked me. Much less in a sexual manner-”

“I think it’s more than lust, Y/N,” he confesses, bringing her hand up and brushing his lips against her knuckles.

“Did you um- have you… touched yourself more to the thought of me?” She asks him quietly, hoping that he did not bed other women in town after that night.

“What do you think, hmm?” He responds with a smile. He had come on his stomach and hands an embarrassing amount of times replaying that night. It was pathetic how much she had him in a chokehold.

“I would like to kiss you,” she says, scooting forward to slot her knees between his. “Would you like that too?”

He nods, tongue licking his lips in anticipation as his heart kicks up again. The butterflies start flapping about in his tummy as she leans in with puckered lips. He backs up in the very last second when his lips were an inch away from hers, making her headbutt him in the process.

“You want me to beg?” She scoffs.

“Not necessarily but it won’t hurt to throw a please in there,” he mutters against the flamed skin of her cheek as he trails wet kisses up to the corner of her eye.

Her breath washes over him as she sighs, “Fine. Just this once though, don’t get used to it. Kiss me, pl-”

He cuts her off, smearing his lips with hers. Her lips were softer than he could have dreamt. His hands immediately move to cup her cheeks, tilting her head, so their noses weren’t smushed. He holds her delicately, like she was made of the finest crystal. Their eyes flutter close as their body relaxes into each other, lips moving in sync like they were destined to do this. Her palms slowly creep up his chest, resting firmly at the crook of his neck, grinning at the way she pulls a pleasured hum from him. Kissing someone never felt this right to Harry. They do it once, one more time, and another time before their lungs force them apart to pull in air. He leans in to peck her swollen lips again, silently thanking the ocean for bringing him to her.

Harry was right, he doesn’t think he had it in him to stop now that he had a taste. He reaches forward, wrapping a strong arm around the small of her back, while the other cradles her bum, pulling her onto his lap eliciting a quiet gasp from her. Y/N doesn’t waste time connecting their lips again. Only this time, Harry swipes his tongue across her bottom lip - seeking permission. His hands grip her in place at her ribs, resting right below her breasts. She opens up for him willingly and he wiggles his tongue into her mouth, licking hers hesitantly. She moans into his mouth, fingernails pressing crescents on the defined muscles of his back. He grunts out, feeling the heat pool from his chest and making its way south to his throbbing cock. They slot together perfectly, Y/N can’t help but grind down to help relieve the pressure building up in her tummy.

“Do you like it?” He pulls back checking in, talking against her lips as they pant against each other.

“Very much,” she answers, fluttering her eyes open as her forehead rests against his. “Am I satisfactory in this kissing ordeal?”

Harry lets out a boyish laugh, the one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle and the dimples in his cheek deepen. “You are heavenly, Princess.”

Y/N gives him a satisfactory smile. “You have a scar here,” she notes as her eyes focus on the small cut under his left eyebrow.

“Got it from a fishing hook when I was nine,” he tells her. They’d been on this ship for a month now and Harry was getting restless, so he’d convinced one of the crew men to teach him to throw a line. Instead of waiting for the instructions, he simply grabbed the pole and whipped it around, resulting in a gash and his father incessantly yelling at him for being careless.

Her fingers feather over the mark, ghosting over the skin. Her touch was so gentle that Harry wondered if she was afraid that blood might ooze out if she put any pressure. He goes to tease her but she beats him to it, pressing her lips to the scar. She lingers breathing in his scent - a musky woody one underlying the smell of the salty sea.

Y/N’s gesture makes his breath hitch, a lump forming in his throat. The delicate nature of her action, knocked the wind out from his solar plexus. He didn’t realise he craved tenderness until now, there was no one to kiss his boo boos on the boat. He barely registered the pain back when the fish hook tore through his flesh, instead he was apologising to his father telling him that he’ll be better while pressing a muslin cloth to the wound. No one has been this tender with me. “Y/N,” he breathes out as a single tear rolls from his eye, “Thank you.”

She doesn’t understand why Harry’s crying as he thanks her but she gives him a comforting smile thumbing away the tear as he sniffles. He kisses her again, slipping his tongue into her mouth as they both sigh in satisfaction. That’s how they stay for the next hour, tangled together as desire simmers in their nerve endings. Lips caressing each other, as their tongue prods and rolls around in each other's mouth. Harry’s hands rests on her hips, fingers finding the skin of her stomach rubbing circles into them as Y/N tests Harry by making him moan as she tugs on the curls at the nape of his neck. The catamaran lazily bobs in the water not wanting to disrupt the two, like the ocean understood that they were going to part with each other soon. But the sky had other plans, a distant rumble of thunder jolting them apart, reminding them of reality. Y/N shuffles back to her seat despite his grumbled protests, reaching in her bag to hand him some copper coins, “For your trouble,” she explains.

“You’re paying me for kissing you?” He chuckles.

“No! It’s for rowing me here from the docks.”

“I didn’t do it for the money.”

“I know but I insist,” she states firmly.

He examines the coins in his palm and laughs. “I don’t understand how you haven’t been recognized in the markets. These are the shiniest copper coins I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he comments.

Harry’s right. The Princess had no use for copper coins, she only used gold. The coppers denominated smaller values of money and had no place among royalty. She usually goes out of her way to request some from the mint in the capital, telling her father that she needs them to throw into wells when she makes wishes. Y/N thinks wishes were lame and if her father knew her any better, he’d catch on to the fact that she had been using the coppers to visit the markets. People rarely had brand new coins because it dulled and discoloured from use. No would have so many on them at once.

Their farewell was brief. Harry helps her to the shore, telling her how to sneak back into her castle. She interrupts him when he lets her know that there's a spot - one that’s covered in vines and deceptive to the untrained eye - low in the stone back wall of the butterfly garden of her grounds, telling him that she was the one who designed it to aid in her sneaking out. He pulls her in a long tight hug, breathing in her floral scent as he mumbled goodbyes against the column of her throat he was busy trailing kisses on. It wasn’t lost on Harry that Y/N was trying to sneak some of the candy she’d purchased into his pockets.

“Show this to the soldiers,” she pulls out her golden ring, which bore the sigil of her family. “You won’t need to sneak in. Tell them I sent you and show them the ring, they’ll take you to Karthi.”

He nods, slipping the ring on his pinky, before kissing her with reckless abandon as his hands move down her back, grabbing a fistful of her bum and squeezing it. Y/N laughs, poking his side before getting on her toes again, to plant a kiss on his cheek. He wades into the waves, pushing the boat further out into the open water.

“Be careful, Harry,” she calls out from the shore when he hops on the boat. “You know with the storm and all. Don’t want you getting lost in the middle of the ocean,” she jokes weakly but even from far Harry could tell that her eyes were full of concern.

“Promise,” his voice rings out with sincerity. “Got someone to come home to now, haven’t I, Princess?” He teases one last time, giving her a wave.

#harry syles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles yn #harry styles x you #spy!harry #princess!reader #princess!y/n #fishnets-fingers #COME SAY HI #please leave tags if you reblog #out by the docks

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green-typewriterz · 4 months

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LILACS AND FORGET ME NOTS

Pt TWO

PART ONE

Harry Styles x Queen!reader

Summary: its been a few years since your wedding to harry and you couldnt be happier

ASK: Could you write a prince Harry Styles/ princess reader. It can be an idea of your choosing PART TWO TO PREVIOUS ASK

Warnings: talks of battle, death of mother, mentions of scars, misogyny if u squint (mediaeval era)

word count: 1295

Three years had passed since the wedding and both you and Harry were the happiest you could be together. However, despite the connection between the two allied families, war was still building in the west and there was no way to avoid it. Your father had abdicated the throne two years ago and it was your job as Queen to assure your people would not feel the effects of the storms raging in other places.

Harry stuck by your side, an innocence to war that you envied. He was a good fighter, skilled in combat, but he had never fought in battle, you weren’t sure if he was prepared. You had chipped away at his rough personality for years and made him a kind, generous king, but it was up to you to fight now - something he didn’t agree with. You both sat at the large birch table in the dining hall, hands intertwined tightly.

“The Western armies are approaching quickly, Y/N. I’m sure you realise I am expected to fight?” Harry spoke softly, not taking his eyes off of his beloved wife. You nodded slowly, understanding what had to be done.

You put down your glass and took both of his hands in your own, talking quietly, “you must understand that I am to fight as well.” His eyes widened, shocked into a silence that you spoke into, “I am nothing if not my mother. I must lead her army the same way she had.”

You barely spoke of your mother, but a portrait of her hung in nearly every room, watching like some kind of goddess. Harry found himself staring at the paintings for hours, wondering about the shine in her eyes and the scars on her face. He had never seen the same determined glint of battle in your eyes, so your confession scared him.

“You can't. You aren’t prepared, my love.” He replied, worry spreading through him like fire. You spared a short glance with your maid and she nodded silently, leaving the room. This was a private matter and Tilly understood that. “I don’t know how I’d live if you were to be injured.”

You sighed and let go of his hands. “You don’t think I feel the same? You are strong, Harry, I know this. But you’ve never fought!” He stared at you for a moment. Then, so quietly you weren’t sure he had ever spoken, he whispered:

“How can you feel the same?” You questioned his words in confusion, barely understanding what he meant. He spoke loudly now, “You may be Queen, but you are no warrior either. I don’t have a choice, Y/N. I have to fight. You don’t.”

You scoffed and stood, heading over to the large fire and staring at the dwindling embers. “I find, what makes a good ruler is their ambition, their willingness to die for their people. Don’t you?” You heard a scrape behind you and after a moment, felt Harry’s strong hands gently clasp your waist. He rested his head on your shoulder, breathing in the smell of your perfume. You leaned backward into him.

The fire burned low, the room’s coldness forcing the flames away. “Promise me you won’t go.” He whispered, begging. You didn’t turn to look at him, knowing you would not be able to give your reply to his face. His breathing was calm against your neck, blowing small strands of hair away from your skin.

“I promise.”

What a solemn lie it was.

——

You woke in the early morning, the sun casting a golden hue over the room. You had written a letter in haste, the parchment creased from the amount of times you had folded and unfolded it to check the wording. Once you were certain it was perfect, you got ready, putting on a simple tunic and trousers. Your horse was waiting in the crisp morning air, its armour already placed and secured. You spent a moment calming her and placed your head against hers, whispering a silent plea to any sort of spiritual being that was listening for her safety, then set off, heading to the large open field where the battle was to take place.

Your horse slowed as it reached the main knight’s grounds and you felt the stares of Harry’s army on your back. They most likely didn’t expect any women to be on the battlefield. Your own army arrived moments later, clad in their glinting silver armour. You were handed a chest plate and chainmail of your own and quickly got prepared, your fingers gently grazing over the forget me nots branded onto the front. This was your mother’s armour, your mother’s weaponry and you wore it with pride.

You stood in the main tent, strategising with your Countess Marshal, when Harry stormed in, clad in his own armour. “You left, not only without me, but after you had promised to stay behind!” He shouted and the knight excused herself with a knowing smile toward you, she had known this was coming.

“There is no time for this Harry, there is a war.” You spoke back, writing notes quickly on a bit of parchment. He walked closer and took both of your hands, stopping you from working. His eyes blazed with anger and worry, but you could tell any anger was not aimed toward you, yet to himself for not keeping you safe. “This is my country's tradition.”

He stood there, still clasping your hands. “What do you mean by tradition? There is no tradition here; it is a battlefield.”

You sighed and let go, fixing your armour tighter to you. “I am very aware of where we are situated, Harry. Don’t be fooled by my apparent femininity, I am not naive to what a knight looks like. Did you think the scars on my mother’s portrait were from sewing? The women here fight, just the same as your men do. I am trained for this, as are my girls. Don’t you worry about some futile argument of whether or not I can when I clearly already have before under my mother’s guidance.”

Harry had never seen this side of you before, the ambition, the strength. You seemed like some sort of warrior queen he had only heard of in legend. He smiled and stood closer, taking your chin in his hand. “Well, let’s agree to let one another fight. Though, you cannot stop me from worrying about you.” You nodded and he leant forward, your lips connecting in a sweet kiss.

“Milady- oh.” Your Countess Marshall, Lilibet walked into the tent, stopping in her tracks as she saw the two of you kissing. Her face tinted red. “My apologies to your highnesses, but we are all prepared.”

You laughed and pulled away from the kiss, leaving a lingering longing in Harry’s heart for something more than what had been given. “My bow, Lili.” She grinned and handed it to you swiftly. Your fingers traced over the engravings in a soothing pattern as you made your way out of the tent, sparing one last glance at your husband. You placed your sword into its hilt and headed for your horse, brushing its main gently.

“My love!” Harry called out and you turned to see him running toward you. He placed a strong kiss to your lips and lifted you into his arms, the momentum spinning the both of you around. “A goodbye kiss” He whispered as you pulled apart.

The both of you smiled and you smoothed his mess of waves as you replied, “Stay true, fight honourably.” You climbed onto your horse and rode away, preparing your bow. Harry watched you leave with a kind, loving smile. He knew you’d fight. And he knew you’d win.

#fic #fanfic #one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #prince harry x princess reader #king harry styles x you #king Harry styles x queen reader #queen reader #royal au #writing #text post

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avalentina · 3 months

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(I'm NOT completely done with the actual story yet)

Sorry for the typo.

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justmystyles · 10 months

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Now You're In My Life - Part 6

catch up here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 4k

summary: a chance meeting at a diner turns your world upside-down.

warnings: some curse words, but other than that it's tame.

a/n: i feel like this part was way better in my head, so sorry in advance if you hate it.

*i say it's a plus size reader, while i don't focus a lot on that aspect (because your size should not define you), it will come up, so i just wanted to be upfront about it.

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @cute-as-ducks420 @gem1712 @golden-hoax @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @n0vaj3an @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

After Harry left you sat in your room and cried, you were barely able to get yourself packed and ready to make it to the station in time for your train home. You had forced yourself into the shower, but skipped putting on any makeup, it was just going to run anyway. About twenty minutes into the trip home, you had mercifully fallen asleep and stayed that way until you arrived back in Boston. You had promised Harry that you’d let him know when you got home, so you shot him a quick text, and the reply was almost instant. As if he were staring at his phone, waiting to hear from you.

Good. Go get some rest my beautiful punk rock princess. Some awful boy kept you up way too late last night. ;)

You were grateful that you had opted for an early train. It gave you a chance to get home and try to resume your normal schedule, and some extra time to purge your emotions so that you could start fresh the next day. Back to work, back to reality.

The next afternoon, you were in your office, finally caught up on the previous day’s work when one of your coworkers dropped an elaborate floral arrangement at your desk. You didn’t have to open the note to know where it came from. You suppose this is the bookend to your time together. He sent you flowers when you met, and he’s sending you flowers to say goodbye. As curious as you are to read the note, you decide to wait until you get home not wanting to cause a scene in your office.

When you got home you went straight to the kitchen, placing the flowers down on the counter and pulling out the card. You take a deep breath and remove it from the envelope.

I tried to think of something funny and charming to say, but truthfully I just missed you and wanted you to know I was thinking of you.

-H

You read the note over and over, until the tears that filled your eyes blurred your vision. He missed you? He was thinking about you? You were more confused than ever. Sure, Harry had told you that you weren’t getting rid of him just because he was on tour. You just assumed he was saying that to get you to stop crying, that the messages and calls would dwindle over time. This seemed like more, that maybe all of the promises of calls and visits were real.

Maybe he did feel something for you.

You were interrupted by the ring of your phone, you pulled it from your pocket and saw Harry’s name on the screen. He was FaceTiming you. You took a deep breath and set it to the back camera which would allow you a moment to collect yourself.

You watched as his beautiful face filled your screen, his smile quickly dropped to a frustrated frown. “Damnit, they still didn’t get it right.” You chuckle tearfully. “I’m just going to have to keep sending you flowers until we find some that are as beautiful as you.”

“Harry…” you playfully chided.

“Alright princess, let’s see you. The flowers are lovely, but I called for you.”

You flip the camera and you notice his face fall slightly. “Darling, have you been crying?”

“Maybe a little,” you reply coyly. “It was just a long day. It’s amazing how far behind I can fall after just one day off. Plus I’m still pretty tired from the trip.”

“I’m sorry, do you want me to let you go so you can relax?”

“No no, I’m glad you called. What are you up to?” You change the subject, not wanting him to press.

“Well, we just landed in Wisconsin.” He attempts a midwestern accent, causing a bark of laughter to fall out of you unexpectedly.

“That was terrible. Thank god you can sing, because you’re not an impressions guy.”

“Heeeeyyyy!” He replied defensively.

You and Harry talked for well over an hour, there were a few times where you considered asking him for clarification on your relationship, but talking to him felt so good, so right that you didn’t want to risk it.

That was how most of your conversations with Harry went while he was away. There were many times where you thought it would just be easier to ask, but you kept reminding yourself about your weekend in New York. The last time you were upset, he had been up all night worrying about you. You decided that it wasn’t something you wanted to bother him with while he was on tour. In a few weeks he’d have some time off. You would talk to him then, when it couldn’t impact his work.

One of the things Harry had brought up to you was how you had apparently become a viral sensation amongst his fanbase for your Harryween costume. Pictures and videos of you were all over social media. And when the photos of you and Harry in Central Park started circulating on the gossip blogs, it wasn’t long before the fans put two and two together. All of the sudden, you were Harry’s new mystery girl.

Harry apologized profusely for the attention that had suddenly been thrown your way. You didn’t mind though, your friends and family weren’t really the celebrity gossip type. However, a few of your friends did see the pictures, you got some teasing texts, but nothing you hadn’t gotten before. Besides, it wasn’t as though strangers were recognizing you in the street, so life continued to go on as normal. The only change was setting your social media profiles to private, which you were especially grateful for once Harry started following you.

A few days before the end of Harry’s tour, the two of you were on one of your marathon FaceTime calls, and Harry asked you something you weren’t expecting.

“You said you still have some vacation days left, right?”

“Yeah, I didn’t really use any, so I was just going to do short weeks for the rest of the year.” You shrug. “It’s use it or lose it.”

“So why don’t you use some of it next week and hang out with me?” You arched a brow, urging him to continue. “My last show is on Saturday, then I have to be in New York for a few meetings, but after that I thought I could come visit you before I go home for the holidays.”

“You… want to come… here?”

“Is that alright?” He asked tentatively. “I just… I mean, you came to spend time with me on tour, you got to be part of my life, I wanted to maybe be part of yours for a bit.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt the tears begin to pool in your eyes. He wanted to spend time with you. In your world. You simply nodded your head, unable to speak.

“Yeah? Wonderful!” He grinned. “I’m going to find the closest hotel so I don’t waste any–”

“You uh…” you interrupted him. “You could stay with me. I mean if you wanted to.”

His smile widened, and you noticed a twinkle in his eye. “I was hoping you’d say that.” You blushed, making him laugh. “Are you sure you don’t have plans? I don’t want to be any trouble.”

“No, I have a family dinner next Saturday, but other than that I’m free.”

“Family dinner, huh? What’s the occasion?”

You bit your lip before answering. “It’s um… it’s a birthday dinner.” You say shyly.

Harry’s eyes narrow at you. “Who’s birthday, princess?” Your face had already given him the answer, but he needed to hear you say it.

Your eyes flit to the floor, you look up at the camera through your lashes. “Uhh… mine?”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” Harry scolded. “Your birthday is in a week and you didn’t bother to tell me?!”

“You never asked,” you shrug.

He shook his head with a chuckle, you had a point. “Well then I am definitely coming, and I am going to spoil you rotten.”

“Harry you don’t have–”

“The hell I don’t,” he said firmly. “When’s your actual birthday, sweetheart?”

“Friday,” you tell him. You aren’t a big fan of being the center of attention, so you never really made a big deal about your birthdays. A quiet dinner with your parents and your sister was all you needed.

“Perfect, I can fly on Thursday night, then I’ll be with you for your whole birthday. And I’d like to join you at your dinner, if you wouldn’t mind having me there.”

He wanted to meet your parents? Nothing about the last month has made any sense, but you were bound to clear things up when Harry came to visit. “I’d like that,” you smile at him. “Oh, you should probably fly into Manchester instead of Boston though.” You notice Harry’s expression change, and you pause, knowing he wants to say something. “What?”

“Why would I go all the way to Manchester? I told you I was going to visit you before going home.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. “New Hampshire, you weirdo.”

Harry holds up his free hand defensively. “It’s not my fault your precious colonizers couldn’t come up with their own names, so they just reused the ones they were so desperate to get away from.”

“Are you seriously doing this right now? You’re getting snippy about history shit?” He smirks at your annoyed response. “Yeah, keep smiling. When you get here I’m going to throw you in the harbor so you can go find your damn tea.” He throws his head back in laughter at your response, you can’t help but laugh too. Joking with each other like this came so naturally to you.

“As I was saying,” you pretend to scold him. “It’s the same distance, shorter if you consider traffic, and it’s way less crowded so you could probably get through without being too noticed.” You watch as a dreamy smile spreads across his face. “What now?” You say, expecting another snarky response.

“Nothing,” he sighed. “You’re such a sweetheart, thinking of me like that.”

You felt your heartbeat speed up at his sincerity. “It was mostly for me,” you shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I hate Boston traffic.”

In the days leading up to Harry’s visit, you spent every free moment cleaning and arranging and rearranging furniture. To say you were nervous was an understatement. Sure, you were happy to see him again. You couldn’t wait to see him again. But this visit was going to be make or break. You were determined to get to the bottom of your relationship, it was a conversation the two of you needed to have while he was here. But you were going to wait until after your birthday, just because you didn’t want the day to be a big deal didn’t mean you wanted to spend it heartbroken.

You had told your parents that you were bringing a guest to dinner. You didn’t say much else, but based on their reaction, you were sure they assumed you were bringing home a guy. You usually kept your relationships to yourself, only ever bringing one other guy home, so to them this was a big deal.

It was ten thirty on Thursday night, you were standing by your car in the arrivals lot waiting for Harry. He had been doing some work in the studio that day, so he decided to take a later flight. As your eyes stayed trained on the door, you pulled your coat tighter around you, trying to stay warm. Before long, you saw Harry emerge from the airport, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. He was here, in front of you, not just on a screen.

You watched his eyes dart around the parking area, his face deep in concentration as he looked for you, rolling his suitcase behind him, a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. You could tell the moment he found you, because the crease in his brow disappeared, his smile widened and his pace began to pick up. When he finally reached you, he dropped his bags and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground and crashing his lips against yours.

He placed you back down, pulling you into another kiss before holding you close and burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I missed you so much princess.” His voice was muffled against your skin as he continued to place kisses along your neck.

You let out a content sigh as your fingers played with the curls at the nape of his neck. “I missed you too.”

After standing in each other’s arms for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of having each other so close again, Harry finally pulled away and put his bags in the back of your car. He moved to the passenger's side and opened the door. You stood there, watching him stand in front of the door, making no moves to actually enter the car.

“You getting in?” You asked curiously.

“I will, I was just opening your door for you.” He replied.

“We’re still in America, babe. Driver sits over there.” You use your thumb to point to the other side of the car.

His dimples appeared as he shook his head. “I’m driving.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want to play a game on the way home, you won’t be able to play and keep your eyes on the road, so I’m going to drive.”

You didn’t miss the fact that he said ‘home’, he didn’t refer to it as your house, he called it home. But you were also suspicious of this game. “I’m not giving you road head.” Your gaze narrowed.

You noticed his eyes darken briefly before he corrected his expression and laughed. “No no, nothing like that. Completely innocent, I promise.”

You eye him suspiciously as you approach the car. As you slide into the passenger's seat, you hand him the keys. “Just remember, we drive on the right here.”

He rolls his eyes, closing your door and moving to the driver’s side. Once he was settled in, he started the car, and began to explain the game.

“So, even after all of this time talking and sharing intimate details of our lives, you’ve still been very evasive about all that guilty pleasure music you’re hiding.” He smirks when you blush and sink a little further into your seat. “And I’ve also noticed you have an almost compulsive need to explain yourself and your opinions on things. Which you never have to do with me, by the way.” He paused, giving you a moment to process and truly understand his statement. “I figured we could use those two things to play a game, and get you to let me in just the tiniest bit more.”

You furrow your brow. “I don’t get it?”

“It’s quite simple my dear, I will give you an emotion, or a scenario of some sort, and you play the song that goes with it. This way, you’re explaining why you like the song, instead of just being embarrassed that you do.”

You smile to yourself, he was so desperate to get to know you that he made up a whole game just to help you open up. God, you were glad he was here. “Okay, I can do that.”

“Yeah?” You nod in agreement. “Excellent! But you have to be completely honest, the first song that comes to mind no matter how embarrassing you think it might be.”

“Deal.”

He smiles widely and pulls you in to seal the deal with a kiss. “Alright then, buckle up buttercup. We’re off.”

As Harry rattled off different topics, you could tell that he had prepared thoroughly for this. Each would have a series of follow up questions that he would ask as the song played, and occasionally he would sing a bit of it for her, his hand firmly planted on her thigh for the entirety of the ride.

Harry would occasionally glance over to you as you were listening to a song. Of course he was admiring your beauty, but more than that, he noticed you had a musicality about you that he hadn’t seen much of outside of work. You would move your hands, almost as if you were conducting the music, honing in on obscure background melodies, and play them out with your fingers.

You had been at a redlight, but when it turned green, Harry didn’t move. You looked over to see him watching you completely mesmerized. When he realized he had been caught, he blushed before turning his attention back to the road. “What?” You ask with a chuckle.

“Aside from the fact that you are stunning and I never want to stop looking at you?” He smirked and shot a quick glance your way just in time to catch your blush. “Aside from that, I just noticed how you listen to music. It’s almost analytical, like you’re picking out each part, like even the smaller parts that people barely notice.”

“Yeah, I’ve kind of always been like that,” you shrug. “Obviously in college it kind of got worse, but–”

“Obviously in college?” Harry questioned.

You slap your hand over your mouth, you were so comfortable with Harry that things were just rolling off your tongue without realizing it. “Yeah… I um, my major was audio production. So I did a lot of recording and mixing and stuff.”

You felt Harry’s grip tighten on your thigh. “Princess, I’ve known you for over a month, how have you not told me this?”

“It’s not a big deal, it’s not like I’m using it or anything. I didn’t want you to think I was hanging out with you with ulterior motives.”

Harry pulled the car into a nearby parking lot so that he could focus all of his attention on you. “Do you really believe that I would think that you were spending all this time with me, that all of this was just because you were trying to make a connection in the music industry?”

You shrug, looking down at the floor. You weren’t sure if you were more embarrassed about keeping it from him, or for your reason for keeping it from him.

He took your chin in his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. “Hey, listen to me,” his tone was commanding yet tender, and he had a look of adoration in his eyes. “I’ve told you before, I want to know everything about you. Whether you believe it or not, I know your heart, and I know that you would never ask anything like that of me. Okay?” You nod your head in affirmation. “I want to hear you say it, princess.”

“Okay,” you whisper. He smiles, pulling your lips to his.

He turns back to the wheel and continues the journey to your house.

“So this is my princess’s palace?” Harry says as he pulls into the driveway. When he sees you reach for the door handle, he places a hand on your shoulder. “Uh-uh, don’t you dare open that door,” he chided.

“Awfully aggressive for a gentleman.” You joked.

He leaned in, his voice low and gravely in your ear. “You haven’t seen anything yet, princess.” A chill shot down your spine at his words.

After he opened your door and collected his bags, the two of you went into the house and you gave him a quick tour of your house. It was a small three bedroom cape, with the master bedroom on the first floor. Since you lived on your own, you had turned the two upstairs rooms into a makeshift gym, and a combination home office/nail salon.

By the time you had gotten home and given Harry the full tour, it was nearly midnight and you were both pretty tired. You took your pajamas into the bathroom so you could change and do your night routine, leaving Harry to change in the bedroom.

When you returned to your room, you tapped on the door to make sure Harry was decent. He called for you to enter, when you did, you saw Harry sitting up in your bed. His eyes went wide as they traveled up and down your body, you were wearing an oversized t-shirt that was so long it completely covered the shorts you have on.

Harry gulped audibly before opening his mouth. “Princess, you… uh, you forgot the bottoms.”

You were typically pretty self conscious about your body, but the way Harry was looking at you, practically devouring you with his eyes, it gave you a boost of confidence like you’d never had before.

“Nope, I’ve got my shorts.” You lifted the shirt to your waist.

Harry tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, folding down the sheets on your side of the bed, and patting the mattress. As you moved closer to the bed, you swayed your hips a little more than you usually would, you watched as Harry kept his eyes locked on you.

As soon as you pulled the covers over yourself, Harry’s arms were around you, pulling you towards him. His lips traveled from your neck, up and across your jaw. Just before he could pull you in for a kiss, your phone rang.

“Ugh… sorry,” you groaned as you reached for your phone. “It’s my sister.”

As you swiped your finger across the screen, Harry noticed the time and leaned in close. “Happy birthday, princess.” He whispered before taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging gently, causing you to giggle softly.

“Hello?” Your sister’s voice rang out from the other end of the phone.

You and Harry looked at eachother, trying not to laugh. You held your index finger up to his mouth to silence him. Instead of taking you seriously, he runs his tongue along your finger before pulling it into his mouth. You pull it out quickly and shoot him a warning glance.

“Hi, sorry. I’m here. Hi.” You finally respond to your sister as you try to break out of Harry’s grasp.

“I wanted to be the first one to say happy birthday, but apparently I didn’t make it in time.”

“Better luck next year,” Harry joked. You slapped him playfully on the chest.

“Who are you with?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you assure her.

“Oh wait, is this the guy mom and dad keep talking about? The one you’re bringing to dinner.”

Your cheeks turn bright red at your sister’s words. Harry chuckles and pinches your cheeks.

“Okay, so thanks for calling. I’ll see you Saturday.” You speak into the phone.

“See you Saturday,” she says. “Sorry about the cock block.”

Harry bursts out laughing, while you hang up the phone and drop it back down on the nightstand. You slide deeper into the bed, pulling the blankets over your head.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Harry chuckles as he follows you under the blankets. “Your sister seems nice.” He says as he starts kissing your neck, adding some gentle bites as he goes.

“Yeah, she’s a real…” you interrupt yourself with a yawn. “Sorry.”

Harry pulls back, leaning on his arm so he’s facing you. “Tired?”

“A little, I’m fine though.” You assure him as you lift your hand, placing it on his cheek.

He tilts his head, kissing your palm, “It’s alright, get some sleep. I’m not going anywhere, we can continue this later.” He leaned down until his lips were a breath away from yours. “Happy birthday, beautiful.” He kissed you softly before laying back on the bed. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you close.

“This is nice,” you sigh against his chest.

His arms tighten around you, and he places a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s really nice.”

Before you know it, you drift off into one of the most comfortable nights of sleep you’ve ever had.

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