#prince harry x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eveningepiphany · 7 months

Text

go with it | H.S oneshot

my masterlist!

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N? What are you—“

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

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

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

“What do you—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you seen—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ex?”

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

“But—“

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

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

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

To this, his face immediately drops.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was nothin’. Glad you’re home safe.”

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

A tiny scoff sounds from him, “Obviously?”

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

And he hardly can pinpoint why. Or not yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I— yes. That was… plenty.” You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Impressive.” He nods at your easy change.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still hate your guts.” You whisper.

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

You laugh, “Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somehow there’s an unspoken not tonight agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

“I like you more than a little bit.”

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

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

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

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

———

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

1K notes · View notes

iamnmbr3 · 2 months

Text

JK Rowling: Harry Potter is 100% heterosexual.

Harry in book 6:

Meticulously catalogues Tom Riddle's evolving level of hotness in each memory he watches

Gets so distracted by seeing Draco Malfoy changing that he gets hit on the head by a piece of luggage

Is deeply horrified that large numbers of girls are interested in him, doesn't even consider dating any of them, and goes to great lengths to avoid them

#you know how sometimes the writer has one plan and the characters have another one? I feel like that happened here #also remember when harry is confused and a little disgusted by ron being so physical with lavender?#Harry Potter #harry x draco #hpdm #harry potter and the half blood prince #drarry #or i guess #tomarry #if you want

917 notes · View notes

hsdiaries · 27 days

Text

glitter on the floor;

6.5K words

best friend!harry x best friend fmc, phh, running out of time, love confession, little itty bitty dom, little itty bitty sub, oral fmc recieving, p in v, praising, teasing.

"Can you believe after today, there is just five months until graduation, Goldie? Five months left before we never have to fight for parking in Jefferson or cross our fingers we didn't get Ferguson as our thesis mentor?" Harry chuckled over the phone, a smile instantly playing on my pink lips. That's what it did. His laugh. Turned on all the stars with his crescent moon smile.

"You mean five months until you leave me to fend for myself? Glad you're so enthusiastic about it, H." I pout, finishing up the charcuterie spread I had been working on for the past couple hours.

"D, you know I'm dreading that above anything else. Who else is going to judge people with me over an afternoon coffee? No one understands afternoon coffees like you."

I pushed off the kitchen counter, turning to walk over to the dining room table, sitting down, "I guess."

Everyday that felt like a personal countdown to adventure for Harry felt like a countdown to loneliness for me. It wasn't that I didn't have friends, I had plenty; taking in the giant city rental we would be using to countdown the new year only proved it. Still, they weren't Harry. They weren't my best friend. They weren't my everyday life line.

They weren't the man I had been deeply, painfully in love with for four years now.

"Look, tonight, we will get beyond drunk. We will eat our grapes under the table, we will jump in the giant indoor pool at midnight and wash away the stress of senior year. I need you to forget that I'm going anywhere come the new year. Let's just have the best time, okay?" He said over the phone, I inhaled, holding my breath, slowly letting out as Leigh and Olive walked in the door, waving around bags of alcohol.

"Okay, I gotta go, thing one and thing two just got here, gotta finish setting up." I said and he laughed.

"Five bucks on Leigh knocking out before midnight." He said at the same time I whispered it to him, each of us cracking up.

"Is that dimples? Tell him to leave you alone, it's girl time before he gets here and you ignore us the rest of the night." Olive said, my eyes rolling.

"Bye Harry, the girls are testy." I giggled a bit before he said bye again, and we hung up. I looked down at my phone, biting my lip as Leigh walked over, placing bottles of vodka on the table.

"Tell him." She said, her weight falling to her left hip. I furrowed my eyebrows as I glanced up at her, my eyes drifting to Olive then back to Leigh.

"Tell him what exactly?" I said, my chest tight as I filled with confusion.

"That you're in love with him and always have been and you want seven kids with him and a big house wi—..."

"—Woah! I do not love him!" I cut off Olive who slammed the fridge door shut, giving me a face of unamusement.

"Goldie, baby....everyone knows. I mean everyone. Even the north wing cleaning lady our freshman year knew," Olive said, walking over, standing behind me and wrapping her arms around my neck, "He's leaving, D. For three years...as of now. What if he stays? What if he me—.."

"— stop, stop I get it. Okay. I get it. You think I don't think about it? But what if I tell him and he doesn't feel the same. Then we spend the last five months together with him being awkward as fuck. No thank you." I said, gently pushing Olive off of me and getting up. I walked over to the charcuterie spread, picking up leftover cheese and meat packages, moving to throw them away.

"Can you all handle the decorations? Imma go rest a bit before we have to get ready." I smiled small, both of them nodding as I moved out of the kitchen and into the giant living room to the master suite I knew I would even be sharing with Harry tonight.

I closed the door and locked it, moving to the bed and letting myself fall on it face first, screaming into the mattress hoping it was muffled enough no one would bother me.

Harry's POV

"You're bringing Taylor? Harry, you can't be serious. You realize you are going to shatter D into a million pieces right?" Zayn said, as I held up two different shirts in front of me.

"What are you even talking about? Goldie, if anything will make her feel welcomed, join us on a drunken night." I turned over my shoulder at him, raising both my eyebrows.

"You're so daft, Styles. Honestly. We all know Goldie loves you. And you love her, you damn idiot. Did you not hear her disappointment on the phone? Tonight for her is about you two, and you're bringing a girl?" Zayn said, suddenly my throat was tightening. I cleared it, turning away from him and furrowing my eyebrows as I looked in the mirror.

"She doesn't love me like that, Zayn. It's not like that with her. Even if it was, I'm not risking it," I closed my eyes, shaking my head that I was even letting him get to me.

"You... and her actually, are both idiots. You're both in love with each other and are going to leave here filled with stupid regret and I'm over trying to get you to see it," He said, shrugging and walking out of my room. I rolled my lip into my mouth, biting it before throwing my shirts on the bed.

"Fucks sake," I called out, throwing my head back. When my head rolled back straight, my eyes landed on the photo on my desk. Goldie and I at her sorority formal last year before she dropped. I swallowed, wondering if maybe Zayn was right.

—

I entered the sorority house watching as other couples met, taking photos and admiring each other's outfits. I rolled my eyes thankful Blondie was over this life. It wasn't her, didn't suit her. She was too kind. Too caring to ever fit in with the people she called her supposed sisters.

"So you do own a suit?" I heard a voice say from above me, my eyes moving to the stairs as Blondie made her way down them. I felt my jaw drop slightly, pressing my lips together as I swallowed. Sitting on her body was a sparkly black dress, one long sleeve, one bare shoulder. Her long blonde hair draped down her body. She was beautiful, breathtaking really. My best friend, the only girl that could get me in a stupid suit at a stupid sorority formal.

The fact Goldie was her name fit her better than I think her parents ever imagined. She was golden.

Making the rest of her way over to me, I grabbed her hand, spinning her around in a small circle. She giggled as I pulled her towards me, "You, are the prettiest girl ever to be in Sigma Kappa, shame they are losing their only true asset." I whispered as the back of her hand hit my chest.

"H, shut. No one knows yet and I would like to enjoy this last formal as my money went towards it." She glared at me a bit and all I could do was poke her nose as her demeanor softened.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Let's enjoy the night, at least the food is good." I shrugged, pulling out my phone and turning on the camera, "Alright, let's be like everyone else and show off how cute we are." I snapped photos of us, being as silly as possible before we started loading into giant charter buses taking us to the unknown location.

Once we arrived, we ate and drank with everyone else; keeping up appearances and interacting with the few girls that were actually nice to my Goldie. By the time the dancing started, I was in my own world with her, nothing else really mattered other than making sure my best friend was having the time of her life.

At one point, the drinks were starting to create an overall haze on the night. Goldie's body felt heavy against mine, her hips rolling so that her ass pushed against me, my prick fighting the blood flow she was beckoning with her movements. Her scent seemed to be the only thing my sense could pick up, cherry vanilla dreams as my nose found itself trailing her neck.

Her breath was rigid as my hands explored her waistline, fingers digging into the fleshy feel of her hips through her dress. The way her hips rolled, placed my dick perfectly between her ass, hard as ever and I couldn't find it in my drunken haze to care. She was my best friend, but she was also insanely perfect. Sexy beyond what my imagination could have ever hoped for. I wasn't blind and I wasn't an idiot. I also suddenly was ignoring any bit of logic that normally stopped me from crossing a line with her. My lips grazed her skin softly, her hips slowing slightly in their movement as I did. My lips puckered softly against her skin as the music began to slow, pulling us both out of the haze. My eyes skimmed the room, as couples began turning to face each other, wrapping up in each other as they moved to the slow music.

Goldie pulled away, slowly turning to face me, her face almost unsure as to what her next move should be. I swallowed, my hand reaching for her waist, pulling her against me, my hard cock pressing against her though making my cheeks redden in embarrassment. Her giggle made a chuckle escape my own, her hands relaxing around my neck.

"You seem to have invited a third member to this dance, H." She teased, her chocolate brown eyes searching my green.

"I think he was called over by you D, you seemed to be drawing him out in your direction," I raised an eyebrow with a tilt of my head and she shrugged innocently.

"No idea what you could possibly be referring to."

We moved to the soft flow of the music, silence surrounding us as her forehead pressing into my chin, her soft breath hitting against my neck. My fingers traced a soft up and down pattern along her back, playing with the ends of her hair whenever I came in contact with them. Her fingers massed the nape of my neck gently, tugging softly at the curls that rested there.

I could have stayed there, in her cherry vanilla heaven, layered in golden dust of magic; but the music picked up. Everyone cheered as they broke out into dance, jumping to the EDM music that slowly picked up until the beat dropped. She pulled away from me, her eyes searching mine again before looking down and over her shoulder.

"I'm going to go use the bathroom, grab me some water?" She said and I nodded, watching a look of confusion flash quickly across her before she nodded, turning and walking away. I watched her walk away, I watched her and my feet had sudden aches to follow her. To grab her and tell her I knew what she felt right then and there. That I had felt that confusion everyday since freshman year. To tell her I also felt confused on what lines I could and wanted to blur with her.

But I didn't. I turned to the bar to grab us each a water.

Blondie's POV

I looked myself over in the mirror, fisting and unfisting my hands to fight the sweaty palms that kept happening. All afternoon into the early evening my mind had been racing with Olive and Leigh's statements all circling into my current decision.

I was going to tell Harry how I felt. I was going to finally hand him my heart on a damn gold platter for his taking.

If he even wanted it.

I sighed, pulling up my black strapless dress, small pieces of silver sequins drawing eyes to my supple chest, a beautiful jeweled necklace sitting around my neck. I looked nice, I knew I did, and I couldn't wait for Harry's eyes to take me in, because they always told me how beautiful I looked. Even if the words never left his mouth.

Turning to exit the room, I opened the door to chatter and music coming from down the hall, people slowly starting to fill up the giant house. I took a deep breath, plastering a smile on my face, hiding the nerves that were slowly eating away at me. My eyes scanned the room until I found Leigh and Olive, my feet caring me quickly in their direction. They both looked at me wide-eyed, Olive clapping at my arrival, taking my hand and spinning me.

"Very well done, very well done," she said, making me roll my eyes as I took in my best friends dressed in glitter and sequins to the tens.

"And look at you both! I'm blinded!" I exclaimed as Leigh handed me a shot.

"All I'm saying is, if we don't get laid tonight, I've lost hope in all men," we all laughed, Olive picking up a shot which we all quickly cheersed and threw down our throats.

Vodka, yuck.

I scrunched up my nose, shaking my face as I looked over the room. Still no Harry, and I would lie if I said it wasn't driving me insane. I brought my attention back to Leigh and Olive as they carried on with their usual back and forth. I tried to pay attention, I really did, but half of what they said escaped me as quickly as the words left their lips.

Eventually we moved our way into the party, greeting, mingling and dancing whenever a good song on the playlist came on. I was three shots in when the door finally opened, Zayn and Niall walking in and my heart flew up in my throat knowing Harry would soon follow behind. My lips parted, my mouth drying from the breath he took away from me. He was wearing a tweed jacket black pants , with a white low cut tank tucked in underneath. The cross pendant I gave him for his first birthday we spent together sitting perfectly on his hair peppered chest.

I couldn't seem to catch my breath, but it was no longer at the mere sight of him. It was at the way I watched his hand wrap around the slim waist of a tall blonde. It was the way she smirked at him, eyes traveling down as she placed her slim fingers on the cross pendant that I felt belonged to me.

"Baby!" I was snapped out of the slow motion vortex I entered as Leigh squealed, running over and clinging on to Zayn, kissing as Niall pretended to gag next to them. He spotted Olive, blushing almost instantly, their greeting much more quiet as he kissed her cheek, holding her gently.

I swallowed, looking around desperately for a way to avoid what I knew was coming next, but Harry's arms wrapping around my waist and picking me up in an embrace ruined any plan of running.

"Blondie Michaels, that is way too much cleavage for a lady," he said, placing me down and kissing my forehead. I smiled, licking my lips and shrugging.

"Call me the town whore, I'll embrace it," I shrugged, my eyes flicking quickly to the woman behind him then back to his perfect lilypad eyes.

"Never that, you look beautiful, D. I um, I wanna introduce you to someone," he turned to the blonde, calling her over as I swallowed, "Goldie, this is Taylor, Taylor this is my best friend Goldie, or D for short."

I held out my hand, which was met with clear distaste and weak hold, "Pleasure." She spoke, pressing her lips into a tight forced smile.

My hand fell back down to my side, my entire night shifting into a direction I hadn't spent the past few hours mapping out in my head. I needed another drink, or three. My eyes quickly moved to find Leigh's already on mind, and without further explanation she was moving over to me and linking our arms.

"If you'll excuse me, Miss Michaels owes me another shot," we smiled, pulling away from the situation and I was thankful when she directed me towards my bedroom instead of the bar. Footsteps followed, Zayn soon joining my other side and wrapping his arm around both of us.

"I told him not to bring her," Zayn said as we entered the room, my lip caught between the tight grip of my teeth.

"Is he fucking dumb? Or on something. He has to be on something," Leigh said towards Zayn as I paced back and forth in front of the vanity.

"No, just a bloody idiot. But to be fair, they both are," Zayn said, I stopped walking instantly, my head snapping in his direction.

"I'm not an idiot, Zayn. I would never bring a date...not on an night like tonight." I said sternly, my breath making chest inflate, unsure how to breathe it out properly without crying. I felt the warmth of my eyes, tears slowly spilling as I reached up to wipe them away.

"Hey, hey, D, I'm sorry...I know you ain't...I'm just saying, you bo—.."

"— I was going to tell him tonight." I breathed out quietly, a soft sob coming from me. I inhaled sharply through my nose, tossing my head back to try and stop the path my tears wanted to fall on.

"You what?" Leigh exclaimed, quickly in front of me, gripping my arms, "Babe, look at me."

I swallowed my cry, looking down at Leigh's eyes and shrugging, "Obviously this is deeply one sided and for the best. I feel less of an idiot now than I would have as I handed him over my heart and he let it drop." I moved from her grip, clearing my throat, "Let's go. We only have a couple hours until the New Year, I'm not wasting it on tears."

I pushed past them, hearing their calls for my name, but all I saw was red. Red anger, red hurt, red disappointment. I was a menace the rest of the night, drinking more than I planned, avoiding Harry at all costs. Our interactions were short, yet his eyes seemed to linger on me the more I ignored him. They were burning my skin with their gaze and I thrived in it. I knew it was driving it insane and I was happy that it was.

He glared softly at me everytime I ignored Taylor, acting like she was invisible. Serving shots got everyone but forgetting hers. Asking her to take group photos but always forgetting to switch so she could be included. I was becoming the person I hated being around. I was becoming a replica of my ex sorority sister as they froze me out of the chapter.

But I was hurting, my heart slowly falling and shattering into pieces along the floor of this part; it was stepped on and demolished further as time went by.

"D," I heard his voice behind me as I made myself another vodka cran.

"Hmm?" I barely muttered out, taking a long sip of my drink, turning in his direction. We weren't alone for long, Taylor coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

His brows furrowed as his eyes searched mine, he was angry, I could tell by the way his lips pursed, "Nothing."

"Great," I pressed my lips into a smile, brushing past them, my shoulder hitting against Taylor as I did. I downed my drink, searching the room for a distraction. Any distraction. Leigh was grinding on Zayn, his lips preoccupied with her neck, Niall and Olive finally managing to figure out they liked each other enough to sit on the back couch and make out. My eyes scanned the room landing on Louis.

My ex hook up Louis that Harry hated more than anything in the world.

My feet were dragging me in his direction before common sense could hit, before I could think of a reason why I should stop.

"Hey fucker," I smirked, throwing my hair over my left shoulder, his eyes meeting mine for a time that couldn't even be measured in comparison to how they lingered on my chest.

"Michaels, ain't this a fuckin' surprise," he smirked, bringing his bourbon to his lips.

"I'm full of them sometimes," I winked, feeling like an utter idiot as I went through the motions of what I was doing.

"I see you let the puppy if it's leash for the night. Heard Taylor's been wanting to sink her claws in for a while, can't believe she managed to get him away from you," he smirked, licking his lips, waiting on my reaction.

"Realized I hate beggars," I said nonchalantly, a chuckle slipping his lips. He moved towards me, his hand slipping around to the small of my back, pulling me tight against him. He breathed into my neck, making me swallow.

"That's cause you like to do the begging, sweets, I 'avent forgotte'," he kissed my neck, flush traveling over my face. I peeked my eyes up at him, feeling a heat grow between us, my face inching up so our lips could meet when I heard a voice so angry it rattled me from the inside.

"Goldie. Outside, now!" I heard Harry's voice boom, quickly turning to face him.

"Excuse me?" I said, my face I could feel, red hot from anger of him ordering me around after what he did.

"Woof," Louis called out behind me, earning a deep inhale from me.

Harry let out a frustrated growl, grabbing my arm and pulling me with him toward the back, I quickly broke free from his grip, pushing past him and leading the way, refusing to be handled in the manner he thought was acceptable. I didn't realize how fast I was moving until he called out for me.

"Slow the fuck down! Goldie fucking stop!"

"What he fuck do you want from me, Harry? What do you want?" I said my voice raising, every bit of composure I had managed to fake slowly starting to leave me.

"I want to know what the fuck your problem is with me tonight? Why you're being such a fucking....such a —..."

"— what? Bitch? Say it, Harry. Say it like you have any balls left." I yelled back.

"Yes, D, you're being a fucking bitch to me and to Taylor. She hasn't done fucking done anything to you. For fucks sake, all I did was walk through the door ready to spend my last New Year's Eve with my best friend for a while...."

I scoffed, pulling at my hair, "Oh you're so,...and how did you plan on doing that? One hand around my waist and the other around hers? Dancing sandwiched between two blondes, oh I bet you like that idea. Now what happened at midnight in your little fantasy? Huh? You kissed her and then got some second hand high from me? Huh? God I feel like such a fucking idiot! A damn idiot!" I cried, slowly losing my mind, losing my ability to remember that I wasn't supposed to break in front of him. I couldn't fight the tears anymore.

"Hey, hey, hey...." His voice softened so quickly, his hands gripping on my arms to stabilize me, "D, baby D, come on, talk to me, please I'm going insane here."

I shook my head, trying to break from him stumbling back, his arms quickly wrapping around my waist holding me up, "Goldie, please."

"I...I was going to...I...." I cried, my gaze meeting his, through fuzzy tear filled eyes I swallowed, "You. You're the problem. You are your beautiful chestnut curls and lily pad eyes. God, I love you, you damn idiot. Why did you walk in here with her? Why her and not me? Wh—..." I was interrupted by his lips finding mine, finding a rhythm that was so messy, so needy for the next beat.

He broke away from me, pressing his forehead into mine, heavy breaths coming from both of us, "You are an idiot," he chuckled, "but so am I; because I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. And I'm sorry. I couldn't face what tonight meant. I couldn't face my true feelings, so I invited Taylor. I felt like if I directed what I wished tonight was to her instead of you, it would hurt less when I left. It would hurt less to never have called you mine."

I swallowed hard, shaking my head, "No, I've always been yours. And you've always been mine. I...I can't have you leave without knowing that," I took in his soft expression, the tears now forming in his eyes and my lips quickly met his again. Hands gripping at skin that felt so right. That seemed to mold into each other so perfectly.

"Come here," he whispered against my lips, hand linking with mine as he led me down to the boathouse near the lake. He moved quickly, pushing open the door and leading me inside. I watched as he jumped into the small sailing boat, holding his hand out to me as I climbed in behind him. He laid us down on the tarp that protected the boat, his fingers tangling into my hair.

Our kisses were now opened mouth, tongue finding each other in a tangled mess, skimming along the roofs of each. My hands slipped under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, he shimmed out of it as I untucked his tank, I wanted him in every way, and after four years I wasn't wasting any time.

"Help me, Harry. Please," I begged in a whiny voice. Louis was right, I loved begging, but only because I knew the result. He groaned, into my mouth, breaking the kiss to quickly undo his pants, my fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt and slipping it off of him. His fingers moved to my dress once his pants were off, reaching around to unzip me, fingers tugging my dress down, lips soon meeting my chest, hands pushing my tits together so that he could get his mouthful of both.

I moaned in pleasure, my head knocking back, mind lost in the idea that this was finally happening. Every dirty dream and fantasy I had of him was coming to life.

"I've dreamed about this, D. I've dreamed about what cherry vanilla tasted like, and god baby it tastes like a damn dream," he bit into my skin, making me arch into him, our skin creating a delicious friction.

"You haven't even had your mouthful yet, H," I whispered, my eyes locking with his as my hand squeezed between us, my fingers moving down my body, lifting my dress and moving into the band of my thong. I was greeted by a pool of arousal that started just for him, bringing it back up, gently pushing it into his mouth, "This is how it actually tastes."

My whispers were met with his eyes rolling back as his lips closed around my fingers, licking and sucking them clean. I pulled them out as his lips popped on release.

"Bloody fucking hell, Goldie Michaels, I'm about to fucking bust," he breathed, making a chuckle escape me. He smirked, pulling my bottom lip between his teeth, as his hands pushed my dress up, releasing my lip to push my dress over my head. His eyes traveled down my body, his pupils seemed to dilate as he went, a hunger behind them soon finding their way back to mine.

"You know what I think about often? I thought about it just today actually. Your formal, that dance floor," he inhaled sharply, his hand pressing down on my hip, dragging his fingers back into my ass, kneading at it, "The way your hips pushed into me, the way I could have slipped that dress up to your waist, fit right in," he swallowed, his voice a low grumble almost. His hand pulled back, smacking my ass before kneading the pain away.

My heart raced in my chest, remembering that night, the way it was ruined just as his lips pressed into my neck, just as he was doing now. He sucked on my skin in between each kiss, up to my jawline. I whined as he ran his nose softly along it, "I would have let you. Welcomed it."

I pushed my hips forward, pressing him slightly flat, lowering onto his bare, hard cock. I adjusted myself so I could press my cunt down along his shaft, grinding it up and down his length. He reached down, moving my thong to the side, letting my wet cunt fully meet him.

"Were you as ready for me as you are now? So sweet, and wet without me even doing much?" He whispered into my ear, his thumb pressing down on my clit, making my hips jolt forward, his other hand gripping at my hip, helping me continue my movements on him.

"Mmm, mhm. Harry, I think my cunt's always been ready for you. I think it was made for you," I licked my lips, glancing down at him, then to the mess I was making, "Look at how much it cries for you, begs you to fill me up. Fill me up Harry, please."

"I have other things I need to tend to first, Goldie," He smirked, flipping us over so I was on my back, his body shifting between my legs. He placed a hand on either side of my hips, fingers looping around the band of my underwear, yanking them off me and throwing them to the side. He placed my left leg on his shoulder, kissing a path down my calf, down to under my knee and back around to my inner thigh, letting it bend over his shoulder. His nose trailed a path up to my belly button and back down, ending his journey with a soft kiss on my clit. Chills crept over my stomach as he continued to tease me, hitting it softly with his nose, moving it from side to side along it.

I heard myself whine, my legs squirming as he moved to tighten his grip on my hips, keeping me in place. He was making me feel frustrated, more than I already was feeling, "Harry, please..."

"Please what, baby D, you never had a problem with words. Why now?" He said against my cunt, his warm breath making my thigh clench.

"I need your face between my legs, please." I begged, completely whiny, completely about to lose my mind.

"It's already between your legs, you have to be more specific. I'm an idiot, remember?" He cooed, his fingers digging further into my hips, his nose dragging a bit of arousal up my stomach.

"Tell me how good cherry vanilla tastes, H. Remind yourself how good it tastes," I moaned out, shoving his face back against my cunt. I could feel the smile on his lips as he began lapping at my wet center. His tongue pushing flat against my middle, curling in a manner that shouldn't be allowed by any human being. He sucked on my swollen clit, creating a fountain of curse words from me as he did.

"Fu-uck, Harry, god..." I moaned, my fingers tangling into his hair, pulling at the roots causing him to groan against me.

Harry's POV

I was in fucking heaven, I felt like i was literally in the act of physically fucking heaven. She tasted so sweet on my tongue, her juices covering my chin as they dripped down her cunt that desperately wanted me. I pulled back, licking my lips as I looked up at her, her face a lovely shade of red that I had never seen on her cheeks. I took my hand, slowly moving a finger inside of her, feeling her walls pulse against them, my prick hard at the idea of her cunt squeezing itself around it in the same manner. I curled my finger forward, my digits searching for her soft center, her soft pleasure point that I knew I found by her delicious mewls. She was so whiny and needy and I couldn't get enough.

Biting at her inner thighs as I slipped in another digit, curling them more and more as I pulled them in and out of her, "Imagine taking my cock with that cunt, you take my fingers so well, I can't imagine you wrapped around me, fuck, D."

I slipped another finger in, three fingers fucking her as she palmed at her own breast, twisting her nipples and adding to her own pleasure. I knew she wasn't shy, I knew how sexual my best friend could be, but it had never been for me.

"Harry...I am so close...please don–dont, fuck yes...," she cried out, her legs starting to tremble, my lips quickly adding suction to her clit, helping her get where she wanted quicker. Her hand hit the side of the boat, gripping at the tarp as she came, her juices spilling out for me, giving me my last meal of the year. I pulled my fingers out of her, licking at her opening, pushing my tongue in and lapping up everything she gave. Her legs lazily relaxed around me, I pushed up her body, kissing along the scars from past incidents that told her own story. That made her my Goldie.

"Open, baby D, lemme show you how good you taste," I said, pressing my fingers to her lower lip as she opened her mouth; my three fingers slipped in, pushing down on her tongue, a soft gag coming from her before, my lips kissing along her jaw, "Mmm, fucking good girl."

I dragged my fingers out of her mouth, down her neck, choking her softly, "Tell me what you want now, it's all about you tonight, only you."

"Fuck me," she gasped.

"Mmm, I don't know if you really want it..." I teased, my hand moving to my cock, slowly fucking my fist as I watched her squirm under my hold.

"Fuck your love into me, Harry Styles. Fuck me so good I can't stop confessing my love to you. Please. Please, for your good girl," she said, so sweetly and whiny it was so dirty. I positioned both her legs on my shoulders, lining myself up and slipping inside her, bottoming out, her nails digging into my bare back, dragging down as I held my position, not moving, not giving her anything other than the feeling of being completely filled by me. Her head knocked back, a gasp escaped her that never seemed to return.

She pulled my face down to hers as it tossed forward, whimpering against our kiss, her chest heavy with her breath as I slowly pulled out, pushing all the way in again, "God you take me so...fucking...good," I gasped with each thrust, she was squeezing me so well. I placed my hands on either side of her, using them as leverage to lift higher, her legs wrapping around me letting me know I was hitting her G spot. Knowing I wasn't missing it, not even once.

She broke the kiss, clinging onto me and kissing my neck, biting at my skin, moaning into it as I found my face, her walls fluttering around me. She was milking me for everything I was worthy and I didn't know how I hadn't seen her bright light sooner. How I didn't realize how my Goldie was just that, mine.

I pushed up and away from her, locking eyes with her pretty brown eyes, smiling as I took in her beauty, her sweetness, the sly smile appearing on her face. I slowed my strokes, carefully moving her legs off my shoulders, I wanted to be close to her, I wanted to press into her. I lowered my body, placing my arms on either side of her head.

"I love you, my Goldie girl. My baby D. You feel that, feel how much I love you?" I said with each thrust, my left arm moving down over her shoulder, down to her breast, cupping it, kneading it, twisting at her perfectly perked up nipple.

She moaned, nodding softly, her hands traveling over my body, "I do, H. God, i love you." She leaned forward, pulling my cross pendant into her mouth, wrapping it around her tongue, before releasing it, "She touched that. But it's mine, just like you, mine."

She moaned out as her hips swiveled up into me, our thrusts meeting each other blissfully. Her walls fluttered around me, letting me know how close she was.

"I am, all yours baby, fuck, all yours," I groaned, kissing her messily, my tongue rubbing along the roof of her mouth.

"Claim me, Harry. Fill me full of you. God I wanna feel you dripping out of me, H," she whined, my hips bucking quicker. I felt the tingle build in my lower spine, my legs beginning to lose their stability, a groan building in my chest.

"Yeah, full of me, D? Is that what you would think about? Me feeling you full?" I said, my eyes hard on hers, her head nodding quickly.

"Please, H, god I need it, please," she begged. She was so damn sexy when she begged, "Ha-Harry imma, oh go-od..."

I kissed her again, thrusting as I felt her walls tighten around me, her sweet arousal covering me completely, dripping down both of us, "Fuck baby, yes.." I moaned, bottoming out as I filled her up, shooting ropes of my mess inside of her.

She whined at the feeling, whimpering and taking hold of my ass, pushing me further in her. I chuckled, pressing a kiss into her forehead, "Are you trying to seal the deal baby? Trying to keep me around?"

"Mmm, daddy Styles has a ring to it," she giggled, shuddering softly. I chuckled, catching my breath and kissing her forehead again, then her nose.

"Come with me?" I whispered.

"I already did," she giggled and I laughed, pressing a kiss into her lips. I pulled out slowly, kissing my way down her body, licking at her nipples, down her stomach. I reached her cunt, lapping up the delicious mixture of her and I, cleaning along her thighs.

"No, Goldie," I kissed her cunt, moving back up to her mouth, kissing her, letting her taste us together, "Come with me to London. I can't be without you. Not anymore."

"H..." she started and I kissed her again, deeply, meaning every bit of it.

"Just think about it."

"Okay."

#harry styles #fanfic #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles ff #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles x original character #phh #best friend!harry #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles x oc #harry styles x reader #harry smut #prince hair harry #harry ff

216 notes · View notes

brisbookmark · 1 year

Text

Say it Again - Jacaerys x F! Reader (18+)

✧ Jacerys Velaryon x Fem! Reader

✧ Word count: 0.8k

Contains: she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, older ish cocky Jacaerys?? Idfk, fingering, reader has an orgasm against a wall, use of high valyrian, princess! Reader, lovey dovey Jace

“Say it again,” the Prince whispered in his lover’s ear, his body pinning her against the wall. His arms were a cage around her body as he slowly maneuvered his knee in between her legs.

“My lord-“ she whispered back, almost a plea for him to treat her with the mother’s mercy. “I-“

He hiked her dress up to her waist, knee pressing against that delectable spot between her thighs. “Yes?” Prince Jacaerys whispered, slowly applying more pressure. She could only find it in herself to moan in reply.

He chuckles at that, the sound rumbling in his chest, making her heartbeat quicken. “I said say it,” Jacaerys repeats. The Prince moves his free hand up her thigh, gently squeezing and she involuntarily grinds her hips against him.

She needs him. She needs everything that is him. His hand moves upward, touching her with just a finger and her hips buck into him with a whine.

“Princess, I promise..” he starts, taking a pause to kiss along her jaw with soft lips. “I promise I’ll take care of you.. just. Say. It.”

“Jace-,” she moans, and he stares into her eyes. She looks at him like a deer and for a minute he wants to consume her immediately.

Jacaerys settles for gently touching her throbbing clit through her underclothes, torturously rubbing at such a slow speed she wonders if she’s imagining it.

Her eyelids flutter and she arches her back against the wall she’s pressed against, the cold stone creating an ache. It’s nothing compared to the ache in her stomach, the ache to come apart for him.

She doesn’t want to say it, she doesn’t want to give him that power yet. But he’s oh so good with his hand, and the princess can’t even begin to wonder where he learned such skills before he’s pressing against her again. His cock is hard, his body warm; and she gasps in pleasure.

Jacaerys smirks at his lover, watches as she writhes against him from just a touch. He feels her body he at up, he feels her legs clamping against his hand to keep him there… and yet he wants to hear her call him-

“Gods, gods my king please, I can’t-” she mewls.

There it is.

“Issa sȳz hāedar,” Jacaerys whispers and the princess cries out. Loud. My good girl.

She’s so wet that his fingers easily slide into her cunt, sending her thrashing even harder. Two long digits stretch her apart, and he curls them inside. Grabbing at his hair his lover throws her head back hard against the stone.

“Shh shh my beautiful, be gentle with yourself,” Jacaerys coos, removing his fingers to rub at her clit again. It’s throbbing against him, sending a delicious buzz to her core, and he grins before gently sliding his free hand to behind her head. “You’ve been so good for me.. don’t hurt yourself.”

He kisses her lips gently, letting her find solace in his soft mouth, dancing with her tongue until she’s calm again.

And yet her cunt still pulses, and he still wants to see her fall apart. Jacaerys thrusts three fingers into her, stretching her apart against his hand. “Come for me princess.. I know you can. Come apart for your king,” he commands, and yet he says it with so much gentleness, so much love, it sends her heart reeling.

She wants to. She wants to listen to him. He slides them in and out at such a fast pace, and then his thumb comes to brush against her clit that she grabs at him, hiking her leg higher on his waist to let him go deeper.

Jacaerys curls his fingers against that one spot inside her, and she gasps again, broken whines filling the room. “Fuck come on, give it to me, Tepagon ziry naejot issa-“ Give it to me.

The princess claws at his back, throwing her hips forward into him and he presses on her clit again. “Jace, oh Jace, I’m almost-“

Her eyes squeeze shut as her body shudders, everything disappearing into a satisfying hum. Her legs shake as she struggles to stand up, and yet Jace grabs her leg higher. He doesn’t stop touching her, riding her through her orgasm, her noises stopping as her mouth forms that delectable ‘o’ shape.

Moans turn into fast breaths and he lets her put her legs down, holding her against him gently. Jacaerys removes his fingers and circles them around her wetness, gathering her release on his hand.

He softly kisses her lips again, her eyes fluttering with satisfaction. “You’re so perfect for me,” he whispers, and he brings her dress back down.

“Now come.. walk with me back to my chambers, with my prize running down your thighs..” he continues, kissing her face to bring her back to him.

“And I’ll clean it off of you in a way a princess deserves.”

#prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys strong #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #house of the dragon #hotd imagine #got imagine #harry collett #Jacaerys x reader smut #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys imagine #hotd jacaerys

2K notes · View notes

iloveinej · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•

Theodore Nott x reader

Catagory: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Mentions of wounds and blood. Booth of them are complete dumbasses. Reader is a tiny bit sensitive, but rightfully so.

Summary: Theodore is lonelier than ever, especially after receiving the dark mark. So he tries to find peace in new things. Like Choirs.

Words: 7.2 k

OBS! I gave reader a last name. Oak, but her first name is still your own but just so everyone knows

A/N: Uh, it's long. I don't know if I love it or hate it, but I'm also really tired so I don't have the energy to think. But also, what writers like what they write? So here you go.

(I'm not religious, but god seriously has his favorites)

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•

His room couldn't contain the warmth that it used to hold during the summer. The fire from his fireplace couldn't keep up with the autumn's chill breezes and cold rains. The heat easily simmered out through the cracks of the old windows, leaving Theodore with stale fingers and cold toes.

On a normal day, he might've complained. When he was younger, he used to despise the cold, always missing the summer rays during the quiet winter. But now? He wasn't sure that he disliked it anymore. The chill air became the only thing that understood the echoing emptiness in his chest.

"I'm joining the Choir." He said absentmindedly. A quick decision he took during the dark hours layered itself with pity and sadness.

"That's rash. I thought you hated Choirs." Blaise mumbled from his seat on the carpeted floor.

Theodore shifted in his soft duvets." I don't hate them, I just don't understand the point of it."

Blaze's face scrunched in confusion and he looked away from his book to watch the other young man mindlessly play with the corners of his sheets." Then why are you joining one?"

Theodore only sighed. He didn't intend to answer Blaise. He wouldn't understand. Blaise had yet to receive the itching curse on his wrist and therefore hadn't been tied to bad things for the rest of his life. Or perhaps, Theodore had become selfish during the quiet days of his suffering.

"Well, I don't care if join or not, but maybe keep it quiet from Draco... and the others." Theodore hummed absentmindedly. If Malfoy would ever find out about Theodore joining something so 'muggly' as a choir, he would stuff Theo in a box and send him straight to the doorstep of Voldermort.

"I know."

Blaize looked at Theodore for any reaction but turned his attention to the book in his lap when Theo only continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Have you packed? We're leaving in two days." He easily rerouted the conversation.

The smell of food made Theodore sick to his stomach. Before he left, he hoped that his appetite would return when the warm food that the elves of Hogwarts made entered his nostrils, but his hopes were all in despair.

Classes had been going on for six days and focusing had already been proven to be a task.

Professor Flitwick stopped him in the corridor the earlier day to speak to him about the request for joining his 'Frog choir', as it was called. Professor Flitwick had thought that it was a mere prank. So Theodore stood in the corridor for 10 minutes explaining to the professor that he didn't pull a prank on him.

And now, he sat by the lunch table, idly waiting for the clock to tick to its designated hour. The choir lesson. He had been asked by Blaise at the beginning of the lunch if he were alright, and he had lied with a clump of nerves stuck in his throat.

He wished to believe his nerves only existed to tease him. But his nerves seemed to be right, for it seemed that wherever he went, eyes followed him. Whether it was Draco, who always appeared to be in the same room as Theodore. Or Professor Snape, that read over his shoulder whenever they had positions class.

Theodore shook his head, a small pain making its way into his head. He stood up, and curious glances was thrown his way.

"Why haven't you eaten? You always eat?" Lorenzo asked with his arms tied behind his head. Only for a second, Theodore stiffen.

"Must've eaten something bad yesterday." He barely mumbled before quietly gliding out of the grand Hall.

Her eyes shot up from her note page when the door slammed open. The murmur carried throughout the dark and dusty classroom came to halt, and (Name) eyed Theodore Nott suspiciously when he strode into the room. Professor Flitwick tapped his wand against the podium he stood by, effectively gaining everyone's attention again.

"Oh!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed when he saw the tall boy standing by the entrance. "I seem to have forgotten to inform you. This term, Mr. Nott here will join us."

She didn't feel good about a new person joining the choir. Especially not him. The boys from Slytherin had never been nice, and in her luck, she hadn't been the object of their harassment. Which is probably something that she should thank Harry Potter for. But didn't mean that she was entirely safe from their harassment.

If he decided she were to be his next target, it made sense. Not many people knew about her. The students didn't blink an eye when she walked by, and the teachers barely knew her name.

She never believed herself to be quiet or shy. But the lack of attention she received left her believing that she needed to be more interesting to speak to for them to enjoy her company. They thought she didn't want to go with them, so they excluded her from their plans.

It made her think, maybe being interesting didn't belong in her nature.

"Have you ever been in a choir before Mr. Nott?" The professor asked.

He timidly shook his head, and briefly wondered where his old, confident self went. "No Professor."

Professor Flitwick gave him a nod before taking a glance over his small class.

"Well then, grab your notes from the table, and then Miss Oak will help you."

Theodore looked around after this 'Miss Oak', and he believed the young lady looking at Professor Flitwick with eyes popping out of her skull would be the girl that the Professor inquired about.

The old paper felt scratchy in his hand when he grabbed the note-filled sheets, and his body heavily trudged to stand by Miss Oak. She didn't say anything, nor did she look at him when he placed himself beside her.

She tried to not pay attention to the boy on her side, but it became a problem since he radiated off his body heat by how close he stood. Perhaps, she should have offered him her help with the notes. But after a while, it seemed he figured it out and she relaxed at the thought of not needing to interact with him.

The lesson came to an end and she wasted no time packing her things so she could catch the Professor before he turned to the next class to teach.

The rest of the students filed out quickly, and to her luck, the professor didn't.

"Professor Flitwick?" She asked.

He turned around and smiled. "Yes dear, what can I help you with?" He answered, before once again turning back to collect the remaining papers.

"I was wondering if you maybe could have someone else help Mr. Nott with his notes." She stood tall and spoke calmly when the professor turned his full attention to the girl. But inside her, a turmoil of emotion rolled around, making her dizzy and anxious.

"Why is that?" She swallowed when his calculated gaze met hers and tried her best not to tear eye contact.

"Well, because I'm afraid that helping him might disturb the focus on my studies." A small humorous scoff sounded through the room, and Professor Flitwick continued to track down the classroom with (name) hot on his tail.

"I must say that I believe that you are wrong." He started, and (name)'s eyebrows scurried together." I think that you need to socialize yourself, to meet new people. Mr. Nott is a kind young man, who I think will get along great with you."

A sigh of descent escaped her, and she trudged out of the classroom in defeat, beginning the lonely track toward her next class. Which unfortunately for her would be divination.

Theodore is an utterly and completely helpless man. He'd met the girl once, one smell, one touch, and he dared never stop thinking about her. The realization had almost knocked him off his chair, for wherever he went, his brain lost control over his eyes and they began to wander, searching after the girl.

For the next Choir class, he made sure to be late again, only so that he could guarantee a second of attention from her. Flitwick had come to warn him about bad habits, but why care? Theodore didn't know. For her eyes flickered to his, and only for a second, the mark on his arm didn't burn his skin.

He slowly walked towards his self-chosen place by her side and didn't let his eyes leave her once. She radiated with caution and apprehension, but Theodore didn't incline to stop staring. At least not until she showed signs of being even mildly uncomfortable.

Her eyes scanned the notes of the Christmas Carol more than she could count as an attempt to not give in to his staring. Because even though she felt tempted to stare at his angel-like face, a fear still presented itself in the back of her mind.

She winced as the floorboards creaked at her nervous shuffle, and once again, felt herself becoming the attention of Theodore's eyes. He opened his mouth, and she made herself ready for anything that could leave his mouth.

"Oh, buggers. I seemed to have forgotten my papers." (Name) watched carefully when the professor rummages through his bag, hoping that his papers are there so he doesn't leave the classroom, risking that someone with dark hair and brown eyes will start a conversation with her.

But to her downfall, Professor Flitwick quickly announced that he would be back soon, and no one had the time to blink before he walked away.

She swallowed the anxious lump in her throat and took a breath through her nose.

"Nervous?" He asked, fully aware that she had been shuffling around and taking unnecessarily deep breaths ever since he situated himself on her side.

"No." She answered, too fast for her liking, before quickly focusing on her paper again.

Theodore wanted to sigh in disappointment when she wasn't up for a conversation, and at the same time felt a stream of pettiness run through his fingertips.

He clenched his pale fist in frustration and looked away. A gust of air passed his lips in a desperate attempt to not let his hopes sink. To be so obsessed with a person in such a so short time felt strange. So strange he started to suspect that a love potion had been involved. But the way she shut herself away from him, he supposed that it would be strange for her to pour a love potion into his drink.

Professor Flitwick's footsteps were loud before he came in sight, and Theodore cursed his chance when it faded into nothing.

But on the other hand, it could turn out to be for the best. He knew that the capability of making a fool out of himself lingered.

Professor seemed to have noticed the shift of emotions on Theodore's face.

"Are you alright, Mr. Nott, you seem to be a bit pale over there?" He wanted to laugh at the coincidence.

"I'm alright, Professor." He answered politely, gently clearing his throat as he tried to brush off the awkwardness of the professor's notice.

But oh to be held, he took notice of a small, inconvenient, soft laugh. His head snapped towards her when he heard who it came from, and she quickly covered it up with a cough and a small apology.

He scoffed quietly, and she pursed her lips as he looked away.

"Everyone ready?" Professor Flitwick asked, and a chorus of positive answers echoed in the hall. And with four flicks of his wand, the choir let their voices out. At first, Theodore believed that no one in this room had sung in a choir. The different voices jumbled together, but it seemed that after just a countable second, the different voices blended into an angel melody.

He could hear her voice perfectly, and he never wanted to have no one else singing in his ear, quite literally. And he let himself bask in the warmth of her tone until a crack reaches the surface. He cringe at the miss of a note in (Name)'s voice, and she did the same.

Theodore struggled to cover up the small chuckles that escaped his mouth, and he blushed in shame to be laughing at her. She didn't seem to mind or hear him. Her face bore a confused scowl, making a wrinkle appear between her eyebrows. Suddenly he felt himself wanting to reach out, to smooth the area out with his thumb. But it would've been ridiculous if he did, possibly ruining all his chances with her in the world.

The harmonious tune took an end, and a murmur broke out, asking each other for the right notes and laughing at each other's wrongs. Theodore listened in curiosity as she hummed the same part over and over again, still getting the same note wrong even though she tries.

"It's an f-sharp, not f." He instructed, and she paused. Patiently waiting for her answer, Theodore hummed the tune for her, showing the correct way. Before the tune ended, he looked towards her to make sure that she was listening, and met her eyes. Theodore felt his heart drum against his sensitive ribs when she watched him with idle eyes.

When it once again took to an end, Theodore masked his madness with raised eyebrows and a look in his eyes, that asked her if she understood.

The eye contact broke as she looked away.

"I knew that, I'd just forgotten." She explained, and the left corner of his mouth rose.

"Sure you did." Sarcasm dripped from his voice, and he feared he'd taken it too far, for he didn't know her limits, how much she would be able to take nor how sensitive she might be.

But his fear easily melted away when he saw the slightest twitch of her lips.

For the first time in a long time, she left the classroom with a content look on her face. The conversation that appeared, is something that she had missed happening. Like an old conversation with the rain.

And she almost wished that her next Choir lesson would be today so that she had someone to talk to again. But it was albeit a bit intimidating. She is afraid that if she spoke too much, or shares too many feelings, he would get bored of talking with her. And she wouldn't have a potential friend anymore.

She sighed at her overcalculating thoughts and decided that she would keep basking in his attention as long as it would last.

Until her Transfiguration class with professor McGonagall the next day. Usually, she was fully aware of where everyone was so she could sit alone and not risk getting a desk friend. As said, except for today. Maybe it was to blame on the bad night's sleep, but she hadn't given a second thought about where she sat down.

And once again, Theodore stormed into the class, ten minutes late. He didn't apologize for being late, instead, he took the closest empty seat he could find and sat down.

(Name) could feel the looks from the rest of the Slytherins when Theodore sat beside her and she straightened her spine and directed her eyes forwards again, not wanting to pay attention to them.

"Fashionably late, as usual, Mr. Nott?" McGonagall questioned, amusement in her tone, but stone-set face.

"Sorry, Professor." He mumbled, and McGonagall nodded, intending to start the lesson again.

Theodore could feel the burning gazes of his friends as he opened up his book. At first, he didn't intend to give the bloodsuckers their craved attention, because he knew what it would an about, and he was also well aware of who he was sitting next to.

But he could hear Blaise whispering his name, and he still didn't want to seem rude, so he turned in his chair, and was met by the eyes of his Slytherin classmates. Draco raised an eyebrow at him, before nodding his head towards (Name).

Theodore knew exactly what he enclined and shrugged. His friends didn't need to know everything, and he didn't need to be around them every minute of the day.

A warm feeling, but strange occupied her chest when Theodore turned back, a half smile on his pink lips and relaxed eyes looking upon her.

And she wanted to beat the butterflies in her stomach with a stick.

During the lesson, there were not many words exchanged between them, and at first, it was a maladroit pressure on (Name)s chest to say something or to make him, anything of the sort. But she realized quite soon that she didn't need to speak, for it was both comforting and nice to have him sitting beside her, carefree of what was around him as he wrote on his parchments.

She hoped and prayed to merlin that it would stay like this and that it wasn't just a fortunate stroke of serendipity.

Something changed with him. She could both see and feel it, and never had she doubted her senses when she felt as if something was wrong.

In their choir lesson, he acted differently against his usual sarcastic but nice persona, which would help her if she was wrong, or speak to her about professor Flitwick's ridiculous beard.

But today he acted strange, only chuckling at her when she did wrong, and when helping her, he sounded up stuck.

He was almost being competitive.

And it was onerous, and burdensome to have such an enthralling person seeing you as a competition. Especially when she was aware that he was more sharp-minded, wittier, and more ambitious than she could ever wish to be.

So therefore she tried to ignore it, playing it off as if had a bed day instead so that she could protect her feelings.

But it only continued and got worse too.

She was slouching in a chair, wand in hand as she tried the same spell over and over again, but the pair of dice weren't even close to becoming chocolate pralines with passion fruit filling. Theodore had gotten it multiple times and embarrassment was beginning to crawl over her cheeks in the form of warmth.

She flicks her wand once more, and when she finally thinks that she has succeeded, she is disappointed to only see a small patch of melted chocolate. A deflected sigh left her lips, and her body slouched even more in her seat.

A chuckle rang out from the side of her, and she bit the inside of her cheek in anticipation of what he was going to say.

"It's going well I see." He remarked, and (Name) felt her ears getting hot from his sudden attention.

"No, obviously not." She mumbled.

"What am I doing wrong?" The question wasn't directed to anyone in particular, but Theodore answered it anyway.

"That, you have to figure out yourself Oak." He scoffed, moving out of his wooden seat and gently picking the pralines up to place them in his palm.

"Because, unlike others, I do have pralines instead of..." he looked quizzically, but in amusement at the chocolate mush on her table. "... that."

(Name)'s face scrunched as she listened to his almost berating words that were thrown, and was about to say something but he had already started walking up to McGonagall with his paper and sweets. She took a long, calculating glance at them, and then nodded, permitting him to leave the classroom.

And he did just so, collecting his books and taking a last glance at the frustrated witch before making his way.

It left (Name) in hassle. The way that Theodore's behavior changed so quickly, and so out of context. But perhaps she's the one to blame. The hope in her heart maybe made her think that he was the nicest out of them all, that he wanted to be her friend. Perhaps -one day- to be even more. She realized that it is her younger self talking through, the child that didn't wish for anything but true love.

She decided that it was a naive thought, and hastily closed her book before walking away from the class.

The next time it happened, it was during choir. (Name) did try her best to stay civil and rational, but how could she do that when Theodore was somehow effectively getting on her last nerves? And she was usually a calm, down-to-earth person.

"What do you mean I'm doing it wrong, I sing it exactly like everyone else." She argued exasperated as she glared at monstrous holes in the side of Theodore's head. She found it strange that he could get on her nerves so easily, even if his presence were able to make her knees weak.

"You're not singing it like like everyone else, sweety." The nickname threw her off immediately, and she felt ashamed as she spluttered out excuses and arguments against it, trying to act as repulsive as possible.

"Mr. Nott and Ms. Oak, interested in sharing your conversation with the class." Professor Flitwick interrupted, and both Theodore and (Name) realized that the room was almost completely quiet, and cringed in embarrassment.

"Sorry, Professor. But I just have a question." Theodore started, holding one of his fingers in the air as he threw a side glance towards the girl on his side, who was watching him with a curiously raised eyebrow.

"But could you just tell me how this part goes one more time?" He asked, with patronize dripping from his voice like sweet, sticky honey.

The sour face that Flitwick carried quickly morphed into a lighter one.

"Why of course." His older voice rang out the words perfectly, and (Name) shrank into herself as the realization hit her that she did indeed sing wrong. Shame crept up on her from behind, and it was humbling when it came to her that Theodore, who had only been participating for two weeks, already seemed to be more intelligent and cunning than her.

"I won." (Name) didn't look at him, didn't say anything back as a strange, unknown emotion buried itself in her mind. She couldn't decide if it was jealousy, or if she was being hurt by his actions. It didn't make sense for her as to why he would need to be so right, and to mortify her like that, just to illustrate a point. Or maybe she was just being sensitive.

But right now, she didn't believe that he ever wanted to be her friend. That this was just an act to maybe relieve himself of stress, to have someone that he could compete against, knowing that he would win. It could also have something to do with power, that he felt out of control and needed something that he could manipulate. It would make sense, she supposed. (But did it though. Why would he pick her of all people to mess with? She hadn't done anything to him.)

As every single afternoon after choir, she trudged towards her house, lining up for the common rooms, more specifically, the comfort and consoling of her bed.

When she entered, it was pleasing to find that it was only one person present in the dormitory, and she hopefully could rest peacefully during the entire evening and night, and for once wake up with a good night's sleep and possibly a better mood.

Though she would be missing dinner, sacrifices were made and if it would guarantee sleep, she felt confident in taking that risk.

And with the last thought that maybe, she would just have to ignore Theodore if he continued with his confusing advances. Even if it meant that he wouldn't become her friend. And she fell asleep. A deep, undisturbed, peaceful sleep.

The next morning, she felt as fresh as the morning dew on her favorite flower. Nothing could ruin her mood was the famous words, but she truly felt it today. The day began with Magic of the Dark Arts, which she sure wasn't the brightest when it came to that class. But after that, she would practice quidditch, and then she would be able to find a dark corner in the library and bury her nose in a book, possibly one about the magical creatures of the north. It sounded interesting enough. (And who would she be to say no to new information and facts?)

As usual, dark arts sucked all the energy out of her eyes and brain but were lucky enough when the energy returned after the intense quidditch practice. The shower she took softened her stiff and sore limbs, and the grime and dirt watched down the drain slowly as she massaged her body with her flower-scented soap bar. It was almost a luxurious feeling.

Her robes had also been washed, which ended up with her smelling like a spring field and newly washed linen. It was something that oddly enough boosted her confidence.

The corridors were fairly empty as she began her quite a long walk towards the library. It was nice, the only thing echoing in the corridors bring the whining wind that carried new crystalizing snowflakes to the ground.

She turned corner after corner, walking by the great hall and resuming towards the moving stairs. But as she turned a corner, she stopped. Not voluntarily, but her body seemed to have control over her mind.

Lit by the flames of the corridor, was Theodore, sitting on the dusty stone floor and leaning against the wall with one of his legs stretched out before him, and the other bent towards his stomach. He didn't see her, for his head rested against the knee of his bent leg, and one of his arms clutched the side of his stomach. Almost as if he felt pain. She stood awkwardly and silently, waiting for him to notice her.

It went against what she promised yesterday night, that she wouldn't interact with, nor acknowledge his actuality. But her promises seemed to become empty every time they circled the Brunett.

So she gently cleared her throat and that seemed to do it for Theodore's head snapped towards her, his face showing that he became startled. But that wasn't the only thing that his face showed.

(Name)'s brows gently furrowed as she scanned his face. His left eye was bruised, along with his sharp cheekbone, and blood continued to drip from his nose, messily running down his lips and over his jaw.

"My my, what do we have here?" The surprised face that he carried slowly turned into a teasing smirk, but she found it easy to look past his confidence to know that it was all a mask, a trick to not let her see him in a state of weakness.

"By Merlin's beard, who did this to you?" she knelt by him to get a closer look at his face.

Theodore hoped that it didn't show, but his face had begun to heat up as her big, concerned eyes stretched over his face.

His heart beat faster, and his own brown eyes got stuck on her face, more exactly on her lips. He didn't want to stare, he didn't want to make it obvious but he had no power over his brain at all.

"Malfoy and Crabe. Maybe Goyle too. Don't remember." He said, shaking his head as he smiled with tired eyes. It was a wonder that he was still sitting up, especially after the hard kick that Crabe had delivered to his stomach.

"Why would they beat you? I thought you were friends?" She questioned, staring intently at a particular wound by his eye that looked like it surely needed medical attention sooner or later.

"I wouldn't say friends, merely acquaintances." He chuckled lightly before he shifted and turned serious." And they were saying impolite things, about someone-someone that I-" He stopped himself and pursed his lips." someone that I guess I care for." He forced that part out as if he had trouble saying it out loud. It probably contributed to the vulnerability, and it had probably torn on his ego to get beaten.

And that's why (Name) didn't ask any more questions. She wasn't usually someone to care about someone's ego, but she didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

She pursed her lips and stretched her legs which created an obnoxious sound in her knees before she stretched her hand towards him.

"What?" He asked skeptically.

"If you want, I can help with your wounds and the swelling." Theodore still looked doubtful, so she sighed and lightly rolled her eyes at his mistrust. "Don't worry, my mother used to work as a doctor back in a muggle hospital and has taught me much, so you can trust me."

Theodore seemed to relax at that and slowly grabbed her hand with a steady grip. It was an odd feeling, to have his hand in hers. It felt different than she thought it would. Instead of the cold, rough skin that she expected, it became a surprise when a warm hand with soft skin latched onto hers instead.

With a strong arm, she pulled Theodore up to his feet and she could hear a small groan leave him as he used his power and might to get up.

His face twisted in pain for a second and (Name) stretched her arm forwards when he almost fell against the wall again. Bit Theodore seemed to collect his strength with a big breath before standing straight, wincing slightly as his probably bruised ribcage stretched.

He must've felt her nervous gaze because he looked down at her with a reassuring face and said "I'm alright."

They began to track down the corridors.

They choose to walk to Theodore's room instead of (Name)'s, since he had a single room all by himself, and also because the girls wouldn't be too fond of finding Theodore in the girl's dormitory. They slowly descended the marble stairs that led to the dungeons, both of them walking much slower than before because of the pain in Theodore's stomach.

"Are you sure that we shouldn't go to madame Pomfrey instead?" (Name) asked for the third time as she heard the heavy breathing that came from Theodore, but he once again shook his head in denial.

"I'm fine, promise." He tried to persuade her, but she didn't feel fooled.

"No, I don't believe that you're fine." She argued and stopped in the middle of the stairs in protest of his hardheadedness. And when he noticed that she wasn't by his side, he stopped too and leaned against the wooden stair railing

"Please." His face showed only pleading, and the foreign display of emotion made her desire to fall to her knees for him right then and there, to take him in her arms and baby him for the rest of his life. It scared her to know that the smallest display of weakness that Theodore showed could manipulate her into doing anything. But it would be inevitable to avoid him because of such a -what she thought was- unimportant cause.

"Alright, but at least let me help you walk." She requested almost timidly, afraid that he would protest. But to her delight he nodded, so she walked to him and took his arm over her shoulder before circling her own around his slim waist, and then with all her power, she took a part of his weight onto her shoulders before they began to move, slowly limping to the edge of the old stairs before they walked down the dark dungeon to the entrance of the Slytherin house.

When they stopped in front of the dark wooden door, (Name) turned to look at Theodore for him to understand that she couldn't say the password since she didn't know it.

His cheeks pinked as he realized and he cleared his throat. "Pureblood." She would be flattered by the fact that he dared to say it loud in front of her, apparently trusting her with the password, if it weren't for the fact that her face scrunched in dislike at the password. She didn't say anything about it.

Theodore seemed to gather strength and nearly pulled her with him as he tried to cross the common room as fast as he could, like his injuries suddenly didn't hurt anymore.

(Name) wanted to stop and gape at the Slytherin common room. The first thing that stood out was the large windows on the opposite side, which allowed a view into the depths of the dark lake that you couldn't get anywhere else. There were also small desks placed against the walls and two round tables on the stone floor. And in the middle two black leathered couches took place in front of a hefty fireplace in the wall. By the thought of walls, (Name) turned her eyes up, and there she saw the stone decorations that had been carved into fetching eye-catching glamors.

Theodore pulled harsher at her arm when she slowed down, and she grumbled as he stressed her towards a high-roof corridor, that had another big window by the end that was framed by long green curtains. She believed it to be strange since the corridor wasn't parted into girls or boys as it was in hers. And there were also arguably more than two doors on the walls.

She counted every door they walked past, and ended up with the number 16 when they stopped between the last pair of doors. The door they were facing had two familiar letters engraved on them. T.N, and had been filled in with silver which she believed fitted him well.

Her free hand grabbed the handle and twisted, opening the door into his dark room. Then she stumbled inside. Her body had become tired from carrying Theodore the length of the stairs and corridors, so she walked towards his made bed and gently sat him down before closing the door. And then rolled her shoulders to leverage the pain.

She tried to look around for some kind of lighter or anything that she could use to gain sight. But it turned out to not be needed when all the candles lit up by the flick of Theodore's hand. And also a small fireplace in the corner that cast a warm hue over the room.

"Medical kit is in the top drawer." Theodore's voice was pained, and it made her hurry to the place he pointed so she could get working on his wounds. It was scary to have him sitting there in pain, labored breathing and his expression tight as he attempted not to show his discomfort. A particularly loud groan made her turn around from the desk where the medical things lay.

Theodore was now leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and teeth clenched. And she wondered how he persuaded her into keeping him away from Madame Pomfrey. She also regretted offering her help to heal him in the first place, since the injuries now seemed to be beyond her expertise. His face showed nothing but discomfort and (Name) started to feel nervous. Her medical skills were good but by how Theodore looked at the moment, she seriously started to doubt her skills.

But she didn't say anything and took a cotton pad soaked in anti-bacterial and plasters to cover the wounds with.

When she stood by the edge of the bed she concluded that she would not be able to reach him when he leaned back as he did, and gently poked at his arm to gain his attention." I can't reach you, you need to sit up."

He hummed lowly, (Name) almost missing the sound before he slowly dragged himself to the edge of the bed, his legs dangling off the side.

She didn't hesitate then and positioned herself between his legs before slowly cleaning both around in the open cuts on his temple and lip that she discovered after wiping away the blood that dripped from his nose.

The position they were in made (Name) almost dizzy with nerves, and she longed to get closer. But it was only longing and she didn't dare to do anything about it and therefore stayed at an arm's length. The new feelings made her weak. Made her feel vulnerable, and that too was scary. Extremely scary.

He suddenly hissed as she slipped with her hands. It didn't take a second before an unusual amount of guilt in her chest.

"I'm sorry, I lost focus."

He nodded. A way of showing that it is okay. But his jaw still clenched when she proceeded with the plasters.

"I need to look at your stomach too." There was quiet as she stood in front of him, waiting for him to raise his shirt. But he didn't seem to be compliant. "I only need to check for anything broken."

He seemed to let down his guard when she added the reason, and her body warmed in shame when she understood that Theodore thought she wanted to see his bare skin.

Also because Theodore had started to lift his shirt, revealing his bare skin to her. She felt almost flattered that he trusted her enough to undress like this. But she knew he didn't have much of a choice.

"Lay down please." He once again did as she said, and slowly leaned into his bed, stretching his upper body when his back hit the mattress. It was quiet in the room, the only thing that you could hear being Theodore's uneven breathing and (Name)'s airy gasp when her eyes landed on his bruised ribs.

"By Merlin, what did they do to you?" she asked him while she took a closer look. The left side of his ribcage had been beaten to the point where the bruises turned yellow and green instead of blue and purple.

"What? What is it?" he moved his hand toward the bruises, trying to feel after the thing that had gotten her stunned but she quickly grabbed his wrist so that he wouldn't cause himself any unnecessary pain. Especially not when she had already made him feel enough pain for the rest of her life.

She swallowed and rested Theodore's hand by his side. He stared at her tensely as she brought her hand up, letting it float over his ribcage. This time, his entire body unknowingly tensed as he waited for the pain that would come when she laid her hand on him. But she never did. Instead, she closed her eyes.

Warmth flowed in waves from the palm of her hand and Theodore's body began to slowly un-tense.

Theodore would trust her with his own worthless life if it came to it, and it wasn't why he felt so on edge. To have her fingers, her flesh so close to his own given his heart something to work for and his brain something to think of. And if he weren't in such agony, he would've begged her to touch him. To lay her warm palm upon his beaten skin, to kiss it, to caress it.

His pathetic thoughts were happily interrupted as the pads of her finger accidentally made contact with his sternum, and a delighted shiver crawled its way over his body.

"Sorry." She apologized, thinking that she had caused him pain.

"It didn't hurt." She looked at him with an unbelieving frown, a frown that made his tongue twist when he tried to stutter an answer.

"Or it does hurt, but your touch... doesn't hurt." She barely heard the last part. Barely, but she still did. Her body heat skyrocketed, and she bit the inside of her cheek to hide her flustered expression, and also to stop the dancing butterflies that made their way up her throat.

He didn't know what came over him at that moment, but a sudden urge to tell her everything limped its way into his mind. It was a long time since he felt this vulnerable and was okay with it. An old memory of him as a child in his mother's arms flashed before his eyes, but he quickly locked it away once more.

But he bit his tongue.

He was sure that she thought he looked pathetic. Here he lay, half-naked, beaten bloodied with tears in his eyes and a frown on his face. He didn't know if he enjoyed the thought or not, because while he enjoyed being vulnerable for you, he still didn't want you to think he was weak because of the touch of the woman he had been obsessing over.

"You must care for this person, hm?" She awkwardly laughed as she smoothly changed the subject. She didn't want to know who he fought for, nor why he did it. But it started getting harder and harder for her to keep to the promise she made herself. To keep him at a distance. Both physically and emotionally.

Theodore didn't have time to answer, both because he was overthrown by the complete change of conversation, but also because she spoke again before he even opened his mouth.

"Who is it anyway. I honestly didn't know you could care about someone that much." She joked harmlessly, but the comment made his mouth feel like paper.

"You."

She stopped her magic, fingers retracting into her palm and her head snapped up to meet his eyes, to see if he lied. But she saw only honesty. No side smirk, no crinkle by his eyes, no pursing lips as a way to hide a mischievous smile.

His eyes were peering at her through his lashes, innocent, brown eyes.

"What- What do you mean?"She carefully asked, knowing exactly what he meant. But she needed confirmation.

"It was you who they spoke ill about." He murmured, staring into the abyss of her eyes. Her body burned like it was on fire because of the nerves that he created within her. And she wanted to look away so that she could catch her breath but she deemed it impossible.

A glaze was cast over his eyes, a glaze containing something akin to admiration.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" The question slipped before she could think about stopping it.

Once more, he didn't say anything. But she could feel how he moved. His arm slowly encircled her and the other hand, he raised to her cheek. His fingers danced along her cheekbone, spreading a fire on her skin that she didn't know to be possible until now.

But the moment changed, as did the energy in the room as he carefully leaned closer with big, hopeful eyes. She stood frozen, one part not believing what was about to happen and the other knowing that if she valued herself, she would have to remove herself right now.

Before he took the next step, she pulled her face away.

Deep in her gut, there was a sour scorching feeling that began to spread like poisoning, killing all happiness that was present before and taking the form of angry tears in her eyes. It was unfair, how he could treat her however he liked, be as awful as he wished. And still have her here, sitting in his sheets and bandaging him with gentle hands.

It was unfair.

"You are so contradicting Theodore." Tears were stuck in her voice and she quickly raised from the bed. She didn't want him to see that she was hurting.

"What?" There was a pang in her heart. He sounded small, like a wounded animal.

"You are mean Theodore." She started, turning around to look at him." At first, you treated me like an equal, like a friend. Until you didn't."

He couldn't meet her eyes anymore, regret eating its way from his heart to his skin. She sniffled and cleared her throat when it became harder to keep her tears at bay.

"I thought that I'd done something to make you hate me, and I was sure you did. But then you kept insisting to sit by me, or to be around me and I couldn't understand." Her voice became small, and her tears became uncontrollable. The embarrassment of sobbing in front of him made her stomach churn, and all she wanted was to shrink into herself. She wanted him to laugh at her, to mock her so that she could get over it and move on.

But that wasn't what Theodore wanted at all. He made her feel hated by him when all he wanted was to be loved by her. And he now felt adamant to change that.

However, it's hard when he slowly crumbles as her tears continue to fall.

"I'm sorry."

And he needs to go to her. So he raises himself off the soft bed and limps toward her. But before he gets too close she turns her back on him, hiding from his fierce gaze. He sighed, saddened by her shyness, the one that had worked hard to get through, only to mess it up either way.

She wrapped her arms around herself and bowed her head to the floor when her sobbing turned into hulking and gasps for air. That was when she felt something different. Theodore had enclosed his hands on her upper arms from behind, giving them gentle caresses with his thumbs. And once more, the caresses spread the wildfire. Her body warmed and her breathing calmed as if the comfort worked.

She didn't know why she doubted that his comfort would work in the first place. Maybe because she wanted to think that he wasn't anything special to her. That love didn't do any difference when it came to a person. But he was, and it did.

Suddenly, before she could blink he turned her around and gently tugged her into his bare chest, enclosing his arms around her in an embrace. The hug didn't last long, but it didn't have to because it brought comfort either way. When he pulled away his hands immediately reached for her cheeks.

When his hands cup both sides of her face, she flinches back. But she doesn't get anywhere for his grip is unmoving. His thumb suddenly touched the space between her eyebrows and began slowly stroking the space, evening out the frown on her face.

She swallows hard. "It was never my intention to make you feel this way." He sighed. A deep heartfelt sigh." I just wanted your attention. And your laughs and your love. But my so thought to be efficacious methods didn't seem to be as efficacious as I believed them to be."

A humorous chuckle rumbles through his chest when a tiny, watery smile tugs at the corner of her lips. And then (Name) feels the aftermath of her sobbing catching up to her body, and a headache grows in her skull. And that's why she lets her forehead rest on the space in between his collarbones.

"Can you ever forgive me?" He asks while letting his fingers push her back from her tear-stained face. She makes a sound in the back of her throat.

"How can I not."

Her voice still had a watery touch to it but sounded more optimistic than she had the entire day. And Theodore tightened his arms around her. But the action sent a jolt of pain through his stomach, and therefore staggered into as he tried to lean some of his body weight on her. But since she wasn't ready, she stumbled against the wall.

"Sorry." He mumbled and pulled away from the embrace.

She chuckled while looking towards the floor, before slowly dragging her eyes up to his face. And then, out of pure instinct, she kissed his cheek and his entire body flared up. "You don't have to apologize."

She hoped he realized the double meaning behind her words. And that she truly did forgive him. Perhaps it would be a stupid decision she would come to regret. But it would be a future problem.

A gentle smile licked her features when he once again cupped her cheeks in his warm palms, and she was on top of the world when he slowly leaned closer.

But he moved so slow, and (Name) wanted to feel him and therefore rose to her toes to gently connect the kiss. It was only a peck, and also short-lived. But it was also her first kiss which meant that it still felt like a thousand suns burned in her chest.

But Theodore seemed to think differently, and with a breath, connected their lips into another sweet, blissful kiss. Although this one not only was deeper but also felt like it was. Her heart beat inside her ribs, more alive than ever when Theodore continued to angle her to meet his lips as he wished. As of the moment, he was pushing her into the wall with his chest, trying to feel as much of her as possible. But since he pressed into her, she had to angle her head up so that he would reach her lips.

Her lungs were burning, and her head spun and she had no choice but to pull away. When she did, Theodore quickly tried to connect their lips again, but she didn't let him. It wasn't that she didn't want to kiss him because she did. But she also wanted to look at him. To see his brown eyes, his pink kissed lips, and rosy cheeks.

"You look pretty." She whispered, and lightly kissed his nose. It was out of her character, but it felt right to do so. Especially when she saw the surprised face that he wore.

And at that moment, Theodore felt at peace. There was no itching on his arm, no pain and she was officially his known addiction. He would never let her go now.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•

I'm so lonely. Anyhow, hope you enjoyed, and that it wasn't to long;)

Quick question, do you prefer 1:st 2:nd or 3:rd pov?

902 notes · View notes

iamjustaholeforyousir · 1 year

Text

Look What We Became Masterlist

part1 - Arrogant Son of a Bitch

part2 - What makes you think you’re good enough

part3 - There's No One to Blame

part4 - I Almost Said Your Name

part5 - I Can Feel You Crying

part6 - You Don't Have To Go Home

part7 - While He's Touching Your Skin

part8 - I Disrespected You

part9 - Breathe Me In

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

part11 - Walk Through Fire For You

part12 - You and I

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

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

195 notes · View notes

green-typewriterz · 6 months

Text

Lilacs and Forget me nots

Part two

Harry Styles x princess!reader

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

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

Warnings: none???

word count: 1645

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

81 notes · View notes