#and another person invited me and the person who was giving us both rides room into her dorm for some wine and a good long chat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

boop-le-snoot · 3 years ago

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@buckyownsmylife hey babe! Remember that one time you threw that cool challenge? Here's my entry. Prepare to get absolutely ruined because daddy!Bruce is exactly that sort of man.

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emotional support nerd

Your best friend's dad, Dr. Bruce Banner, is hotter than you thought he would be. 6k words, NSFW. Kind of Alt!Reader - she refers to herself as 'goth' in one instance. Tony Stark makes an appearance because God forbid I write a fanfic without him in it.

This is filthy pron, ft. age difference (reader is college aged) daddy kink, throat fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, cream pie, possessiveness, belly bulge and ending with a hint at a threesome. I really crammed all I could from Eyre's wheel in here, didn't I. Oh well.

"How much longer, dad?" Lyra's annoyed voice struck a chord within me. I tried to hide my snickering - unsuccessfully might I add - causing my best friend to shoot me a hurt look, equally fed up with me as she was fed up with her forgetful adopted father. "You know what, we'll take the subway."

Lyra's father's voice, both agitated and apologetic, reached my ears in bitten-off phrases as the traffic noises around us grew in volume, NYC rush hour rapidly approaching its peak.

With a sound huff, Lyra removed the phone from her ear, staring me down with the most amount of petulance I've ever seen on her usually reserved, placid face. "It's twenty more minutes. Apparently he's driving Tony's car," she offered in the way of explanation, like it actually did anything to better the cold, wet situation we found ourselves in. "Please, and I can't stress this enough, please don't be weird."

I felt a flood of amusement at Lyra's pleading tone. "Darling, if you wanted a normal friend, you should have looked elsewhere," I gestured to my outfit. I looked like a goth boy's wet dream: chunky platformed boots, fishnets, heavy eyeliner. Of course, all in black.

"You know what I mean," she whined, waving off my pointing hand and fixing me with a hard stare. "The least my dad needs is someone that is terrified of him just because sometimes he turns into a big green monkey. It's not as exciting as internet thinks, anyway," the last part of the sentence was mumbled but I heard it nonetheless as Lyra stared out into the traffic, clever eyes looking for a particular car model.

What Lyra didn't know was that I was not at all considering to be terrified by the man who dosed himself with radiation and developed an advanced version of split personality disorder. I could be intimidated by him, sure, because he was incredibly intelligent, a world class scientist with more PhDs than I had zeroes in my bank account, but even despite his green problem, Dr. Bruce Banner was about as far away from 'scary' as a man could be.

The few scarce pictures of him on the internet showed a short, stocky man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper curls, always dressed in un-ironed, crumpled button-ups with dorky patterns. Looking at him, I mused that there was a high chance he spoke with a stutter and that fact amused me to no end. Jekyll and Hyde, alright.

Lyra was much the same way. Shy and reclusive, with curly brown hair and doe eyes, she spent a good chunk of her first semester in college being avoided by everybody because of her last name; I, on the other hand, avoided everyone out of habit, I'd never been a social butterfly, but the way people subtly made sure to exclude Lyra from all the activities filled me with quiet, seething rage, and I stepped over my general distaste of people and removed my bag from the seat next to me so Lyra could at least study in relative peace.

Yeah, yeah, you've heard it all, I'm sure. Weird goth chick adopts a socially awkward, shunned nerd and they become best friends forever. I had to admit that under the shy exterior, Lyra was smart, witty and even funny sometimes. She was willing to entertain my crude jokes without moaning, at least, and I was perfectly okay with listening to her rant about science every now and then.

Rain banged on the slanted roof of the café we were hiding in, the autumn wind howled, making both of us shiver at the prospect of having to go outside, even if it was for a short moment to run to Lyra's dad's car. The day had started out warm and sunny, but much like a badly calculated chemical formula, it all went downhill a split second after we had set out to leave campus.

"There he is," the grouch in Lyra's expression had me once again unsuccessfully attempting to conceal my snorting.

Nonetheless, I followed her out into the rain, struggling to keep up with the brisk running in my platformed shoes, unceremoniously crawling into the car behind her without sparing a glance at the driver in my eagerness to get out of the freezing downpour.

"Hi, dad," Lyra's tired voice spoke up at the same time as I angrily shook out my hair.

"I've just about McFuckin' had it with New York," I was afraid the dye in my hair would bleed out into my clothes, or even worse, the nice, cream-colored car seats.

"Hello, ladies," the voice that greeted us was low, gravelly and apologetic to boot.

My eyes shot up, meeting an expression full of surprise and amusement. I stared at the shockingly handsome face of Dr. Bruce Banner like a deer in the headlights.

The fine mimic wrinkles had stretched into a resemblance of a smile, soft, plush lips revealing a set of straight, white teeth. The five o'clock shadow framed his jaw, giving it a sharp, defined edge, his clever brown eyes slid down my form, faltering on the pentagram on my belt and my fishnet-covered legs, settling on my chunky boots before hastily snapping back up to my face.

"Dad, this is..." Lyra's voice was full of suspicious bewilderment as she attempted to dissipate the sudden awkwardness.

"Oh, yeah, I'm Dr. Bruce Banner, but you can call me Doc or Bruce," he cleared his throat, turning himself towards the windshield and starting up the car.

"Nice to meet you," I busied myself with putting away any stray hair just to occupy myself with something during the time I needed to recuperate from being just... Looked at by Lyra's dad.

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I was so taken aback by his handsomeness and his aura of a gentle but powerful man that the ride to Stark tower, however swift, went on in slightly awkward silence. The streets outside were, thankfully, noisy, and the lack of an attempt to have a conversation could easily be attributed to Bruce's need to focus on the road, but Lyra's increasingly concerned looks did very little to settle the sudden racing of my heart.

"C'mon, I'll give you some sweats so you can let your..." Lyra's vague gesture towards my upper body disappeared behind her side of the door. "Hey, Tony," she suddenly interrupted her sentence, very obviously addressing another person who I managed to miss as Bruce parked in the spacious garage.

"I've been told you're finally bringing your friend, Green Pea," a voice I'd heard a thousand times on the TV poked fun at Lyra.

She bent down to retrieve her bag, shooting big eyes at me and mouthing an exaggerated "Sorry!"

Tony Stark looked about a week in debt on sleep, a contrast to the way he usually appeared in public. The exaggerated eyebrow raise made me shuffle awkwardly in my spot; the Led Zep tee caught my eyes as I lingered on it, aware of my own Mötorhead top on display. He noticed it too, causing his face leave the snide territory.

"Wow, I didn't expect kids these days to have any resemblance of taste in music but you've surprised me, Corpse Bride," he gave me a quiet wolf-whistle, watching me through lidded eyes.

I felt my eyebrow crawl upwards at his attitude but Bruce spoke up before I could say anything: "Tony, no," so firmly, I had to raise both of my eyebrows. I felt a smile tug at my lips, the situation strikingly familiar in it's essence. Like father, like daughter...

"No," Lyra's identical expression, fond and annoyed, topped up with an accusing finger pointed in my direction had everyone snorting a giggle at the situation.

"Lyra," I whined, just so I could coax her grin that she was very obviously trying to conceal. "See, I told you, every crazy genius needs their emotional support nerd," I fixed her with a pointed look.

She promptly grabbed me by the arm, leading all of us to the elevator as the two men behind us shared a hearty laugh at my well-timed joke. It was either that or I would have completely embarrassed myself by gaping and drooling over both THE Tony Stark and Lyra's father.

The rush didn't stop there. I was promptly and generously offered not only a spare pair of pants but also a whole room to stay in after an invitation to dinner I simply could not refuse. Dr. Banner firmly coaxed me into staying overnight with his pleading eyes and a hearty seasoning of guilt tripping, softly crooning how he simply could not let a young woman to wander the cold, rainy night in NYC alone.

Tony added something too, in a tone way too surefire and patronising. I guessed he noticed my eyes lingering on Dr. Banner, being a genius and all.

In a short amount of time, I found myself seated at a dinner table next to a happy, giggling Lyra who'd downed a glass of wine and was well into her second. I found it adorable how much of a lightweight she was; not hesitating in the slightest to point out that fact when she made hands for a pitcher of water.

Tony was the first one to snark back something vague about his college days and all the wild parties he used to throw, booing Bruce upon discovery that he, in fact, actually studied in college in favour of partaking in various illicit activities. That had both me and Tony giggling with Lyra promptly joining in, both of us losing it over the running joke or her being either a test tube baby or the result of immaculate conception.

Bruce's face blushed scarlet. He sputtered, a few stray drops of his lemonade landing on the (ironed!) collar of his purple shirt, cough disappearing in the wake of Tony's truly amused cackling. Dr. Banner was well on his way to either choke on his Lo Mein or turn green; thinking quickly, I decided to defuse a situation by sharing a harmless, funny story that happened to me as a freshman.

"I went on a date with this guy who said that music was the most important thing in his life, and I thought, wow, that's so beautiful!" I began my story over Lyra's incessant snickering. "So we had dinner and went back to his place because I'm a whore," the whole table erupted in laughter at my deadpan remark, Tony reaching over to give me a high five.

"And as we got there, he put on one of his demos which was just a bunch of sampled and remixed Guns'n'Roses songs, and I thought wow, that's gotta be one of the worst things I've ever heard," I pointedly looked away as Lyra's cackling grew in volume, having heard the same story several times by now and the outrage I expressed at the situation first hand.

"But instead of that I said, wow, that's so cool! Then we did the thing and his whole bedroom was covered in Axl Rose posters and I'm sure at some point Mr. Rose stared right up my asshole," there were tears streaming down Lyra's face as Tony flopped his upper body onto the table and Bruce convulsed helplessly in a silent fit of giggles. "And then I thought to myself: wow, I would have to pretend to like his music if I dated this guy and I just couldn't do that..." I breathed out, succumbing to the mirth at the dinner table. "It was good but not November Rain good, y'kno?"

Bruce snorted loudly, sliding down his chair with a hand over his face. The table shook with the force of Tony's cackling; I didn't see his expression but the howling, rasping noises sent me into another fit of laughter, right on par with Lyra.

"Is this..." Tony rapidly inhaled the much-needed oxygen. "Is this why you keep wincing whenever I play the 'Roses in the lab?" Tony wheezed and Lyra nodded.

"I just... I can picture it, and I-" she made a vague, encompassing gesture and a face.

"Please, don't," I urged with a snort. "There are better ways to get disappointed."

Dinner went on by smoothly after that, everybody happily making remarks on my dating fail, the topic of Lyra's birth and Tony's college shenanigans dismissed.

I caught Dr. Banner's pointed look as we finished our dessert - he was studying me, eyes searching for something that he very obviously wished was there. From the damp roots of my hair to the soft, cotton top clinging to my chest, I wasn't left unscrutinzed and unexamined. Like one of the many specimens he studied on a daily basis, Bruce lingered on the many characteristics that made me stand out in the grey crowd.

"Would you like to see the labs?" He asked, appearing behind me without a single sound.

The freshly cleaned dishes clattered in my arms. I'd almost dropped them, startled, but Bruce's hand landed on the top of the stack right before the top plate would have slipped off and shattered into pieces on the cold tile of his kitchen.

Blood rushed to my ears. "I'd love to," my brain had briefly returned to reality, the rush of meeting both Stark and Banner succumbing to logic and reason. My and his fields of study briefly overlapped, the question he posed was more than reasonable. In fact, many people would cheat, lie and steal to be in my position.

Bruce smiled, opening a cabinet and taking half of the dishes I was holding to stack them up in their proper place. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, exposing wide, muscular forearms littered with dark, coarse hair.

I was sure my face was flaming. After waving off Lyra's attempts to put shoes on me and leaving her to watch her TV show, a wide, warm palm rested on the back of my waist, gently steering me towards the elevator.

I tried to keep my eyes off Bruce in the large mirror on the walls of the car as it swiftly moved down, scrutinizing my appearance instead. My throat bobbed, the elevator car suddenly too small and too hot.

His eyes left marks on me - invisible ones, the kind that I knew were there just from the scorching heat sizzling on my skin.

There was a certain je ne sais quoi about him. Perhaps, it was in the way he was acting - a polar opposite of what I'd had expected, Dr. Bruce Banner possessed a quiet confidence and his patience appeared to be endless, heartily doused with an appreciation for his closest ones. The way his eyes lit up in response to people smiling around the dinner table was hard to miss.

When Bruce spoke about his research - whatever wasn't classified, anyway - the spark expanded into a mischievous fire. I could hardly understand the nuances in his work, scratch that- I could not understand a single word he was saying, at all. The individual syllables registered as they should, but my traitorous brain could only focus on the way he licked his lips in between quickly inhaled breaths.

"You're not... Following, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted upwards, clever brown eyes fixed on my face.

God, I hoped I wasn't drooling. But to deny the obvious would have been a stretch. "No, not really," I swallowed, willing my eyes to lift from the large veins on the hand that was pointing at a set of equations. Reasonably good at math any day, they looked like the scribbles of a madman to me at the time.

Dr. Banner sighed, letting silence creep among the whirring machinery in the lab for a brief moment. "I don't scare you?" He removed his glasses, cleaning them with the corner of his shirt.

The question reeked of self-doubt and, perhaps, insecurity. "No," I answered simply, not giving him the slightest chance to find doubt in my words. I was barely holding my voice from shaking, afraid he'd misunderstand my reaction to the sudden change in atmosphere.

He was closer to me than I recalled. My hip was almost brushing his, the bulk of his shoulder millimeters from touching against my bare skin, the smell of something herbal, like tea, and sharp chemicals clouding my senses. It was such a contrasting experience.

Bruce turned to me, an expression between hunger and regret forcing me to shiver and look him straight in the eye. A hand landed on my waist, holding me in place with gentle firmness. "I'm a monster, I could hurt you," he whispered, leaning into me like a touch starved kitten. The man screamed contradiction. "We shouldn't."

Vivid images of the Hulk and the rampages years prior flashed through my mind; the rubble, the collateral damage in the form of many lives. I barely remembered it, having been too little to really understand what was going on. One thing, though, I knew for sure: ever since the world became aware of Lyra's existence, there had been no incidents. Sure, the Hulk still appeared when there was a threat, but there were no documented incidents of the green creature running amok, accidentally.

"You won't hurt me," I spoke with conviction. Perhaps, I was bluffing just slightly but I wouldn't lie like that to myself. The variable, the... Twelve or so percent chance of things going... Awry, it made a small, malicious worm inside of me rejoice and fill my limbs with familiar adrenalised yearning. "You're not a monster. Far from it, actually," I used the hand that was not supporting me against the desk to gently cradle the side of his face, letting my fingertips brush over the rough five o'clock shadow on his cheek.

Bruce emitted a sound somewhere between an agitated grown and a pleading whine, sagging with the sound exhale, pressing himself flush with my chest. His face slipped from my palm, the warm tip of his nose running a steady line up my neck, sending goosebumps running wildly down my back as his hot breath tickled the arch of my throat.

"Baby," the nickname punched a stuttered gasp out of me with the intensity contained in just that one word. "I've been hearing all these amazing things about you," his voice dropped, low baritone rumbling straight into my ear. "I won't be able to hold back. I'll want you all to myself," his bicep flexed under my hand.

My knees would have bucked if I wasn't grasping onto Bruce for dear life after those words. I had some sense of personal pride in me, so while my body was an easy, traitorous thing, my mind was more than eager to participate in this game, to ping pong a little bit before... "Yeah? What things?" I breathed.

Teeth briefly closed around my tender skin, nipping for just a second. "You're kind, beautiful," his hand took a steadfast hold on the back of my neck, exposing my throat to his mouth. More skin to mark, more time to whisper. "Intelligent, bright and clever," the more he spoke, the fiercer he became. Bruce's grasp tightened until I was pliant in it, willingly following his silent commands. "A bit of a pain in the ass," a healthy dose of humour was added into the mix as my ass was roughly grabbed, our fronts pressed together at his insistence.

"That sounds about right," I didn't resist the sudden urge to snark, thoughts lazily floating in my head, like clouds on a bright sunny day, fleeting and sparse. None of them caught on. I was focused on feeling the need, on my need to feel.

A sharp smack landed on the plump of my ass, the sound resonating in the eerily quiet lab. The sounds of machinery had dulled at some point, leaving just the two of us panting our lust into each other's space. "I know you can be a good girl. Will you, princess?" His fingertips dug into my flesh, surpassing the soft sweatpants as if they weren't even there.

I could only nod, dumbly, overcome by the sudden rush of blood to my body. The life coarsing through me sang, demanding a release of the pent-up tension.

"What's that?" Bruce removed himself from my neck, catching my unfocused eyes with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"Yes," I swallowed, breathing through my mouth.

"Mmm," he hummed, running both hands over my sides, over the frayed edges of my Mötorhead top. He admired it, briefly, setting his eyes on the band logo that was right over my breasts. Having decided something to himself, Bruce promptly removed it, lifting it over my head with ease and leaving it right on the science lab table.

Taking hold of my hand, he walked over to a hidden set of sliding doors that revealed a rather large, frequently used bed, shutting them just as I walked in, wearing only my bra and borrowed sweats. My back was pressed to the door in mere seconds, hot palms chasing away the chill of the lab as Bruce slotted his lips over mine.

He tasted like something I've never had before. His lips - so plush and supple, took hold of the kiss with practiced gusto, sucking me in without a chance or the desire to escape. I drank from him, sucked on the bottom lip as his tongue explored my mouth, danced with mine.

The room was spinning, the ringing in my ears growing in volume. I was only partly aware of the sensation of sliding down the wall; our knees thudded on the carpeted floor simultaneously, heavy breathing the only noise I could distinguish.

"Breathe, baby, that's it," Bruce coaxed, gently stroking my nape. The soft cotton of his shirt crumpled under my fingers where I held onto him, desperately searching something to ground myself with.

The buckle of his belt clattered and then clinked again as he wrapped the worn leather around my wrists, bringing them together in front of my chest. I exhaled sharply at the intimate gesture, a whine bubbling up from my chest when Bruce used a single fingertip to raise my chin.

My eyes met his; a brown iris tinged with the faintest of green around the outer edge. "This okay, princess?" He sought my face for confirmation, for agreement, for anything.

I nodded, stuttering mid-gesture, remembering our previous interaction. My mouth did not want to cooperate but I forced it to, even if it came out as little more than a pitiful mewl. "Yes, daddy," the word, sweet and sticky like fruit syrup, poured from my lips.

My eyes slid shut as my conscience - or was it common sense? - took hold of the situation. I was on my knees in front of my best friends dad, a virtual stranger, and I'd just-

Bruce's soft chuckle stopped the negative spiral of my thoughts. "That's my girl," he sounded a tad more breathless now, a hairliner in his perfect façade of self-control. As if he'd sensed my indecisiveness, he tugged on the makeshift restraints, pulling me closer, closer and into his lap.

A warm, solid chest with a healthy amount of fluff greeted me. Bruce let my lax, pliant body fall into his arms, catching me effortlessly and bringing my face to his lips. "You have nothing to be ashamed of, you're my good girl," he peppered soft kisses all over my flaming cheeks, my twitching nose, my fluttering lashes.

"Please," I begged, shame giving way to the flood of arousal that seemingly hit me all at once. I was aware of the dampness collecting in my panties, the stiffness of my limbs from holding back the ravenous desire to paw at Bruce like a wild animal. "Please, daddy..."

"I know, I know, baby girl," he soothed, not stopping his tender assault on my face. "Daddy will make it all better. I know just what you need," Bruce finally pulled away. I heard the sound of him undoing his zipper and then the awkward shuffle of him shucking off his pants.

Somewhere in between of all that, he'd ended up sitting down on the bed, wearing only his boxers, his shirt hanging open. The red crawled down his chest, partially masked by the coarse salt and pepper hair; his lips were cherry red and his hair was sticking out in odd directions. Bruce looked sinful.

My eyes inadvertently landed on the impressive bulge in his boxers; in response to my widened eyes, he reached out for it, stroking the outline of his thick cock through his boxers. "Like what you see, baby?"

"Yeah," My mouth watered.

"Baby wants a fat cock?" He teased, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing, testing my self-control like that. With a flick of his wrist, it sprang free, slapping against his tummy, coating the fine hairs with drops of clear, musky fluid.

I swallowed, feeling the taste of him from afar and yearning for more where I was parked between his spread legs.

In a gesture almost loving, he tugged on the belt still wrapped around my wrists, bringing my face to his leaking shaft and my hands to the base of it, letting me feel the weight of his balls in them. The cock throbbed, neglected, weighed down by the heaviness of his full balls.

"Go ahead, baby, suck my cock," the encouragement came with a gentle push to my head.

I obediently followed, wrapping my lips around the pink, moist crown of it, a hum beginning in the back of my throat. My God, Bruce tasted heavenly... I whirled and slipped my tongue a around his head, I dipped into the slit to drink the nectar right from the tap, idly coming to awareness of the broken, choked moans coming from the man above me.

Raising my head got me a view of his chin; head thrown back, the lax O of his mouth glistened in the meager light. My eyes slid lower, to the flex of his abs. Bruce fought hard to stay still. The desire consumed me, a sudden rush of power at having Dr. Bruce Banner's cock in my mouth and the man at my mercy; I inhaled, sliding my mouth further and further down his throbbing length.

"Fuck," I heard him mutter before his hands gripped the sides of my face. "Hungry, baby, are you?" His eyes glowed a faint green; I shuddered at the power he held within himself. Held back for me. "Tap my thigh twice," he spoke and I had no choice but to obey. "Okay. Do that if it gets too much, alright?" I nodded. He gave me a wide, beaming smile. "Good girl," he praised, experimentally bucking his hips into my mouth a few times.

In and out. I focused on my breathing, sharp, little inhales: his girth took up all the free space in my mouth, the tip of it barely fit into my throat. The burn, the stretch; I felt every tenth of an inch, every bulging attempt of my body to accommodate Bruce's huge cock. It was delicious, I couldn't help but crave the same stretch in my neglected, sopping wet pussy.

"Fuck, you're taking it so well," Bruce moaned wetly. "Your mouth... S'like heaven... Could fuck it all day, that's my good girl," the rambling increased in it's intensity as the pace of his hips hastened. Drool and tears flowed like a river; my chin was dropping with it, spit connected my face to his pelvis. "Oh," there was a brief pause to his movements; suddenly, he pulled out, fisting the base of his cock, staring me down with a ferocious gleem in his eye.

I must've looked a straight mess; my face like a crime scene, my clothes disheveled, covered in fluids and most of all - I was desperately grinding against my own feet, too focused on the glorious cock in front of me to notice the weakness of my own flesh. "Daddy?" I questioned, wincing at the grating of my own voice.

Without a word, the belt was tugged once more; in a set of movements just slightly north of acrobatic, I found myself laying on my back in the middle of the bed, my sweatpants suffering a haste demise in the corner of the room.

Bruce crawled atop me, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on every inch of my skin he could reach, mouthing something inaudible into every pore of my body. As he drew closer, I discerned bitten-off phrases, stringing my desire into sticky, tangy mess at the apex of my thighs.

"My perfect baby girl," the words reached me; all tongue, he kissed me once more, arching into me as much as I arched into his hot grasp. A brief inspection of my face - he was satisfied with what he saw - and Bruce crawled back, settling in between my spread legs, breathing hot air on the lips of my sex still covered by a sopping wet piece of fabric.

"Oh fuck," I yelped, feeling him smooch it soundly, the hot wetness of his tongue penetrating the meagre lace barrier with ease.

He moved it aside anyway, with a single finger, giving my pussy a broad lick, moaning into my cunt like a man gone mad. It took a few more licks for him to feel sated enough to surface, all the while holding my hips down. I was so sensitive, I felt even the tiniest flicks to my clit, I was sure if I didn't cum then and there, I would explode.

"Such a pretty pussy, princess," his heavy breathing paused briefly. He nipped my thigh. "So wet, is that all for me?"

"Yes, yes, daddy," I rasped, pushing my cunt into his face, losing all shame and trepidation.

"So tasty," he continued the torture, outlining my lower lips before taking another nosedive right into it, swirling his tongue around every fold, sucking onto my clit.

Bruce ate my pussy until my thighs shook, until my core quivered and I could no longer hold back the choked, ragged screams starting somewhere in the low of my belly and coming out as unholy, all-consuming yowls filled with unadulterated lust.

"Louder for me, baby," he inhaled rapidly, and then, he sucked on my clit.

The world stopped, halted on it's axis, every muscle going rigid in my body and every nerve ending simultaneously coming alive. Faintly, I heard a chant, repeating two syllables over and over, it sounded like my voice - but I had no control over myself. All I could do was weakly grind my hips against Bruce's mouth, faltering when the crashing waves of my orgasm began to recede.

The infuriating overstimulation stopped; blinking hazily, I saw Bruce's eyes glimmer brown and green in front of my face. His nose and his chin was glistening with a thin coat of sticky fluid; disheveled and red, he looked a man on the verge of a revelation.

Something hot and blunt nosed at my cunt, bringing back the moment to me - I realized, with a great deal of impatience - how empty I felt. The decision was minute. "Daddy, fuck me, please, I want your cock," the words came easily.

"That's my girl," his eyes fluttered shut as the first inches squeezed through the snug of my cunt. I was sopping wet and as relaxed as I'd be, but even then, it was a stretch. "Good girl, good baby," the mumbled praise made me whine and my pussy clamp on his cock. "Relax, let daddy fill you up." Breathing through it, I consciously unwound myself around him, letting my palms rest freely on his shoulders. "Let daddy take care of you."

Like melted sugar, his husked words stuck to me inside and out. Short, sharp thrusts; Bruce was patiently burrowing himself inside of me, making his way to reach the deepest parts of me I didn't even know existed. His cock head pressed against something hard and spongy inside of me; stars burst behind my eyes I'd clamped shut on reflex.

I moaned weakly, tugging on his arm, pressing myself closer. It felt so, so good. Like a raw nerve had been exposed and he was stroking it, pushing that little switch with every stroke of his hips.

"I'm not gonna last," he muttered as once again, my cunt squeezed him snugly in place, just as greedy as I was to feel that tiny explosion spark up within me again.

"I want..." I panted. Bruce set in a punishing pace after that, a palm under my ass, squeezing it so hard there would definitely be bruising. I craved it, I needed to see the evidence this was not some elaborate fever dream. "I want... Daddy to fill me up," words came out garbled; it sounded like gibberish to my ears but Bruce - they spurred him on.

"Oh yeah?" That breathless, boyish cockiness was back in his voice again; despite how fucked out he sounded, I prepared myself for something truly out of this world. I just knew.

He sat back on his shins, dragging me by the hips with him, making me shiver and moan and twitch and clamp onto him again as his throbbing cock hit that special spot again. And again. And again.

"Look at me, baby," a hand on my belly and his eyes burning right through me. As they slid down, towards the apex of my thighs where he was still moving within me almost lazily, I saw it.

"Oh fuck," I couldn't utter much more than a two-syllabled profanity. There was a bulge in my belly, just above my pelvis, moving in rhythm with Bruce's hips. And then he pressed on it and I-

Something, someone, somewhere was screaming. The noise was loud and pitched, but even then, I could barely hear it though the neverending waves of bliss that enveloped my whole being. Gold and silver at the edges of my rapidly darkening vision; I was drowning in something that smelled and felt like Bruce. The safety of his arms, the warmth of his heated body, the rapid snapping of his hips-

Oh.

"I'm gonna, fuck," the last word was but a ghost of a human speech. Growling low and filthy, Bruce leaned into my ear, his breath hot and moist. "Mine," his hips stuttered, his cock nestled deep, the sensation bordering on painful, forcefully extracted pleasure. It throbbed with every spurt of his seed; each one felt like a solid punch in the gut to my abused pussy.

"Daddy," I mewled, my body jerking away from him but my mind and my soul yearning for more. His rapidly softening flesh made the idea of being separated unbearable.

"S'good, s'my good girl, m'so proud," he mumbled, looking slightly disoriented as he removed himself from me, immediately pressing me to his side and interwining any free, flailing limbs.

We laid in silence, each of us slowly coming back to Earth after the completely unreal experience we just had. I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to do as the realization set in, the post-orgasmic haze giving way to a sudden rush of clarity.

"I can hear you overthinking," Bruce's voice was fond.

Before I could muster up the courage to snark back, the divided doors opened, one very concerned Tony Stark standing there, armed with a tranquilizer gun in one hand and a pack of cookies in the other. His mouth, previously open to (probably) yell at us, remained as open when his eyes had registered the scene in front of him.

I stared at Bruce. Bruce stared at Tony.

"The noise," he offered in the way of explanation, dangling the pack of cookies, looking, for once - speechless. He recovered quickly, however, even if the remark was a thin ghost of his usual sass: "You pick the nerd over me? I'm hurt," he scoffed in mock irritation, although I was pretty sure I saw some satisfaction in there, too.

Bruce looked at me. I looked at Bruce.

A mischievous grin slowly crept up his face, an identical one beginning to appear on my own face seconds after.

"Hey, two nerds is better than one, right?" My response is what did it; or, rather, it was the evidence of my previous throat-fucking clearly audible in my voice... Tony dropped the cookies and then, the tranq gun.

Bruce Banner taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @mostly-marvel-musings @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @sapphicnoodle69 @couldntbedamned @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @tripleyeeet @tatestripedsweater @stuckybarton

#bruce banner x reader #bruce banner smut #bruce banner x you #bruce banner x y/n #Bruce Banner #bun writes #I haven't written shit in a month and boom #6k words in three hours #i don't like the ending #I'm bad at them #okay #okay .

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juletheghoul · 3 years ago

Text

Burning Hour (Part 3)

This series has completely taken over my life and I am so happy you are all enjoying it so much - thank you for all of the lovely messages and comments - I treasure them deeply.

So - you shouldn't be surprised that this particular moment on the red carpet absolutely inspired a scene in this story and I regret nothing. Hope you all enjoy this fantasy that's keeping me going lol.

Din Djarin x F!Reader (Virgin reader)

Pairing: Din x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) Angst, pining, slow-burn, implied arranged marriage, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age) Yearning, jealousy, fingering/touching / slight dirty talk (slightly possessive)

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 4

—

You floated through the morning.

Your dreams were full of kisses, of declarations of love and beskar glinting under the sun and it was hard to concentrate on anything.

You smiled to yourself as you broke your fast with warm bread and butter, feeling his eyes on you from his place behind your father.

“Your highness-” Your father’s advisor came through the door holding the usual paperwork, things for him to look over, letters to read. “-A letter has come for the Princess.” He turned to you then with a smile. He was an old man, grandfatherly and sweet. He handed it to you and you noticed from the corner of your eye Din’s helmet turn towards you.

It was a small letter and you noticed how beautiful the script was as you opened it.

Dearest Princess,

I would be honoured if you were to join me here at my home for dinner. My messenger awaits your response and if you agree, I will send my personal household guard to accompany you. I also imagine your knight will be in attendance, I welcome him and whoever else you choose to bring at my table. Ruby as well of course.

Hoping you’ll say yes.

Ever yours,

Poe. D.

“It’s from Poe, he asks that I join him this evening for dinner.” You were frowning at the letter, conflicted because you wanted to stay home, wanted to meet Din in the garden again. A tiny part of you however, the tiniest part wanted to say yes - wanted to see how Poe would behave. Part of you wanted him to do something unforgivable to wipe the smiles off your parents faces.

“Oh but you must go!” Your father’s voice boomed through the room and you imagined that you could almost hear Din’s jaw clenching.

“Yes my darling, you must go. What does the letter say?” Your mother held her hand out and you handed it to her. She smiled as she read it. “Din, you must accompany her.” She was smiling big, excited at the prospect of a match having been made. No one bothered to ask if you wanted to go.

“Yes of course, let his messenger know that the Princess will be in attendance. She will go, Din- I leave her safety in your hands. Take you who must.” It had been decided for you, and you had to accept it. You felt Mila’s hand grasp yours under the table in understanding.

“Which gown would you like to wear your highness?” She asked sadly as you put on your undergarments and you sighed.

Whichever one makes everyone leave me alone.

“Whichever you think would look best sweetling, I have no preference.” You said the words and they were honest. Yes - Poe was charming and sweet, handsome and in another life you would have been faint with excitement at his interest in you but you were in love with Din. He was the one you wanted to share a meal with. He was the one you wanted to kiss in the open - to have holding your hand as you sat together in front of the hearth. He was the one you wanted in your bed.

“How about this one?” She held out a lovely powder blue gown. You would have said no, something more plain but you had to be seen to be making an effort.

“Yes, that will do nicely.” You smiled but it didn’t reach your eyes. She didn’t comment on it.

“I will tie a blue ribbon around Ruby’s neck to match, and I think you have some sapphires as well.” She brought over a tray of jewelry for you to peruse while she laced up your gown.

Your mind drifted to an interesting place. You imagined you were preparing for dinner with Din and imagined your knight picking out jewels for you to wear.

Would he prefer diamonds? Would he like me better in opals or emeralds?

You had a feeling he wouldn’t mind either way, but it was lovely to pretend even for a moment. She placed a dark blue cloak about your shoulders and stood back.

“You look beautiful Princess, the blue looks lovely against your skin.” She held up a silvered looking glass and you saw the reflection of a happy woman, although why she was happy - no one could know.

“Thank you sweetling, let's get this night over with shall we?” You smiled at her as you both made your way outside.

---

Din, along with five of his best knights, waited for her to set out for Damerons home. Damerons own household guard waited as well, having been sent to accompany her and he surveyed them. They seemed competent enough, he gave them their space nonetheless.

It was getting more and more difficult to put the future out of his mind - he knew that the Princess would marry at some point, it was her duty as Queen. She might even marry Poe - he knew that objectively they were a good match but his mind simply couldn’t stay objective. Not when it came to her.

This whole thing was moving faster than he hoped and he didn’t know what he could do about it.

You have to face facts Djarin, you’ll never marry her. You are a knight, she is a Princess, there is no place for you. Maybe you should just let her go.

It was in him to do so, to ignore his feelings for her; to find Gisela and ask her to marry him - have a couple of little ones and pray for things to work out. The harsh words to get her to hate him on the tip of his tongue but they evaporated like dew on a sunny day when he saw her come out to meet him.

She was a gem- a bright, glittering thing that he wanted so desperately to hold onto.

“I am ready Sir, shall we?” She smiled shyly and he nodded.

“Of course Princess, allow me.” He guided her into the wheelhouse, dreading and cherishing every single second.

The ride was uneventful, the road was quiet thankfully with nothing to see but long swathes of trees and greenery in the gloaming of the evening.

Ruby was napping softly in your lap but woke quickly when you arrived, her little tail wagging happily at the prospect of exploring.

“Yes my little darling - we are here.” She was in Mila’s arms when you pet her, the two of you waiting for the wheelhouse to come to a stop.

Din opened the door for you, he was helping you climb down when you heard Poe’s voice sounding out.

“Princess, I am so pleased you agreed to come-” He was striding over, his squire on his heels. “-I am happy to see you all. Please - be welcome.” He was smiling big at everyone as his guards retreated, no doubt returning to their posts. He crouched quickly to pet Ruby before approaching you.

“Hello Poe, I thank you for your invitation.” You smiled as you took in your surroundings. His home was a beautiful sprawling estate. He must have been wealthier than you thought. “You must give me a tour of the grounds - I would love to see the gardens.” You smiled at him as he offered you his arm.

“Of course Princess, I will show you whatever you wish after our meal - unless you’d like to go now?” He paused for a moment.

“After dinner would be just fine.” You answered as he guided all of you inside.

You weren’t sure what to expect about his home when the letter had come in earlier but it was a pleasant surprise. There were fresh cut flowers everywhere, painstakingly detailed tapestries hung up on the walls as you made your way to the large dining room. Lush carpets and plush chairs, truly a man who enjoyed his comforts.

“You have a lovely home Poe.” You smiled as he led you to your seat.

“I thank you Princess -“ He turned to Din and the other Mandalorians waiting by the table. “-Please, sit with us. I meant what I said, you are all welcome at my table.” He gestured to them to sit.

“I do not wish to intrude, we would be happy to eat with the rest of your household guard.” Din replied, his voice was clipped however.

“Nonsense. I insist, I dare say the Princess would be more comfortable if you were to join us.” He said it with an easy smile and Din hesitated slightly before agreeing. They all sat, lining their helmets up before them.

Din barely spoke.

He had never been one for long speeches - you were unsure whether it was because of the helmet, or just his nature. The other Mandalorians were friendlier and Poe took it all in stride. You could see that he took nothing personal and treated them just as he treated you.

Aside from Din’s cool demeanor and Poe’s etiquette, the dinner went well. The food was wonderful and you didn’t fail to notice some of your favourites on the menu.

“I took the liberty of finding out what you like to eat.” He said it quietly, not wanting to draw attention and you favoured him with a smile. It was hard not to like him, he was very thoughtful.

Once the meal was done, he fulfilled his promise and escorted you outside. It was much more open than the gardens back home - everything illuminated by torches and lanterns. There were flowers and neatly pruned shrubbery surrounding the large building. You noticed a stable on one side, as well a modest greenhouse on the other.

“It’s nothing compared to what you’re used to but I enjoy it. The kennels are just behind the stables and there are flowers and different fruit trees just to the right there - that’s where they get the most sun. I’m afraid the night doesn’t do it justice, it’s much lovelier during the day.” He was walking you through the grounds, your arm tucked under his as your party followed.

“It’s lovely, truly.” You were sincere and you couldn’t help but look up, the sky awash in stars. “I would imagine you must spend a lot of time out here.” You let him guide the way.

“Not as often as I'd like to, but I try. Perhaps when we marry I’ll make more of an effort.” He said it with a wink and you scoffed loudly but without malice.

“Oh is that so? Well then I suppose I’ll have to change some things around since in your mind I’ll live here hm?” Your tone was playful but sarcastic and you were acutely aware of Din following the two of you.

“Oh yes Princess, I am quite sure. My home is yours and you may do with it what you will. I live only to make you happy.” He was just as playful and as annoyed as you were that he was so confident in your union, it was also aggravatingly refreshing to be able to speak to someone so honestly - better yet for them to respond in kind.

You ignored it, Poe was charming, that’s all.

Much to your annoyance, the night was enjoyable. Poe was an excellent host and it was later than you had originally planned when you set off for home. The woods were pitch black in some spots, it made you anxious to ride in the wheelhouse while the world outside seemed like it didn’t exist. The soft light of the moon doing nothing to pierce through the darkness of the road at times.

Reaching the palace had been a relief and you said as much when you stepped out.

“You should have told me Princess, I would have ridden in it with you - if it would have helped.” He spoke as he guided you inside. You had wanted to, but the temptation of having him so close would have been too much - and as much as Mila knew about your feelings towards him - you didn’t want her to see you kissing him.

You patted his arm in silent thanks and he said nothing else.

When you reached your room you hesitated at the door, wanting him to pull you away somewhere but he didn’t - instead he waited until Mila got in. He took his helmet off and you smiled at the state of his hair. Your fingers itched to ruffle through it.

“Princess, if it’s not too late, I would ask you to join me for a midnight ride.” He waited for your answer and your smile widened.

“Of course! Would you permit me to change quickly?” You didn’t want to ride in such a stuffy gown - as beautiful as it was.

“I will wait however long it takes.” He motioned for you to go and you did - urging Mila to help you once you reached your bedchamber.

“The soft linen dress I think - with the long shift and the heavy cloak. I want to be comfortable and warm.” You changed as fast as humanly possible - all but ripping the jewelry off and within a few minutes you were rushing out the door. The two of you making your way towards the stables as silently as possible.

You watched him work deftly, his skilled hands saddling his horse with ease. One horse, not two.

“Are we to ride together?” You looked at him confused.

“Is this a problem for you Princess? I thought it might be quicker to get us to safety should something happen if we were on the same horse. I could saddle you your own if you prefer - we just wouldn’t travel too far.” He hesitated momentarily and your heart leapt at the thought that he would be holding you so closely.

“I trust your judgment Sir, one horse it is.” You kept your voice neutral and he nodded, finishing his work quickly. Once he was done - he helped you up and pulled himself up behind you. The cool beskar pressed up against your back as his arms reached around you to grab the reins.

Your dress pooled up around your thighs slightly, but your legs were covered by your big cloak but it was exciting nonetheless. You felt exposed, with his proximity it excited you way more than it should have. It felt forbidden, taboo and thrilling to have it feel like he was holding you. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning back into his body slightly but he didn’t complain.

The ride through the forest was quiet except for the sound of the night birds, the crickets and the creatures that prowled at this time. The sound of the horses' steps, the sound of its breathing mixing with yours as well as Din’s. He rode through trees, through the little paths only he seemed to know and after a while you were beside a lake. The soft sound of the water kissing the shore added to the nightsong and you were happy that he had brought you here. He had been silent the whole ride, but you felt him take his helmet off behind you and secure it somehow to the saddle.

“You should know that you looked exceptionally lovely today Princess, blue is your colour.” His breath tickled your neck and you shivered. You turned slightly to look back but you couldn’t fully face him, the angle awkward but he kissed you just under your ear to let you know it was okay.

“I thank you Sir, I hoped you would like it.” You leaned back into his arms to tuck your head under his chin.

“You wore that for me? I thought you wore it for Dameron.” His hands came up to hold onto your arms as he pressed little kisses to your neck.

“I always dress for you.” You left it at that, hoping he would understand that despite everything- he was the one you wanted.

“Can I confess something?” His hand came up to slowly undo the cloak tied at your throat.

“Yes, anything.” You answered almost breathlessly, watching his hands open up the cloak to expose your shoulders, the skin of your thighs poking out where the dress had bunched up even more.

“You might think me wicked but, I thought about what it would be like to kiss you.” His hand trailed down as he spoke, rubbing at your thighs over your dress and you watched them in the low light of the moon, mesmerized.

“You’ve kissed me before Sir, you could kiss me now.” You turned a little more but he stopped you.

“I wasn’t thinking about kissing your mouth lovely girl, I was thinking about kissing you somewhere else.” His hands slowly gathered the fabric of your dress, bunching it in his fist - lifting it inch by inch to bare your legs to him. “May I show you where I want to kiss you?” He stopped but you clung onto his arms around you.

“Yes - please show me.” You felt is other hand join the fray and soon he had exposed your lower half to the cool night air. Your undergarments were damp you knew it - the arousal pooling low in your belly at the thought that he might touch you where you most wanted him to. He didn’t disappoint.

His hand trailed up your inner thigh lightly, slowly, up until he skillfully slid it into your undergarments. He groaned deep in his chest when he touched your bare sex.

“Right here. I long to kiss you, taste you here.” His touch was feather light on the lips of your womanhood, slipping along the seam of you. You whimpered, no one had ever touched you here and you felt the slick dripping out of you as you let him explore. “Would you let me Princess? Would you let me bury my tongue right here?” He dipped his fingers low, parting you slightly to dip his fingers just at the entrance - collecting your arousal onto his fingers before slipping them out and bringing them to his mouth behind you. You moaned at the sound of him sucking you off of them and you nodded frantically.

“Yes Din, I would let you - I’m yours.” You moaned the words and his other hand held you in place.

“And I am yours.” He responded before bringing his hand back to where you craved it, this time he spread the lips of your cunt open wide, honing his middle finger on the pearl of your sex. He rubbed tight, slow circles around it and you moaned - trying desperately to open your legs wider. He chuckled darkly behind you.

“Does that feel good Princess?” He turned your face with his other hand, twisting his upper body enough to capture your mouth in a messy kiss, not quite aligned but it sent a shiver of arousal through you and you felt yourself climbing higher and higher- his finger relentless as he sped up a little.

“Yes - Gods yes - it feels so good Din, I thought about you too.” You moaned the words into his mouth. “I think about you touching me like this, when I do it to myself.” He groaned at your confession, his tongue thick in your mouth when he kissed you again.

His finger dipped low to collect more wetness and the glide of it was just right, just slippery enough to send you over the edge and you almost screamed. Your body seizing up with pleasure as your sex clenched around nothing. He cooed into your ear as you rode it out.

“You are intoxicating my lovely one.” He kissed your neck, as he lowered your skirts.

You watched him, blissed out and boneless as he licked his fingers before grabbing the reins again and slowly making his way back to the palace.

Mila was snoring softly when you slipped into the room and you were careful not to wake her and as tired as you were from travel it took you a long time to fall asleep. Your heart full of love for Din and a hunger you couldn’t satiate filled your belly. It was a craving for his body, for his kisses, for physical love a woman shared with her husband. You fell asleep hoping - though secretly knowing- that he craved you the same way.

—-

As happy as you were when you awoke the next morning, it was quickly dampened - your father informed you that Poe was to arrive at the Palace as his honoured guest. That he was to stay for a time as a gesture of good will.

You saw right through it.

Your parents had decided that Poe was the suitor they wanted for you and they weren’t being at all subtle.

They informed you with big smiles on their faces, no doubt in hopes of pushing you towards him. It was exhausting - this constant reminder that you would never be truly free to live the life you wanted with Din.

When Poe arrived, he was happy - taking this as a sign that he was winning you over.

“Greetings Princess, I cannot tell you how happy I am to be able to spend more time with you.” He was all smiles and you had no choice but to smile back.

“It will be interesting for sure.” With the way you felt about Din, the intense desire to be around him was at the forefront of your mind. As well as the way Din behaved around Poe, it would definitely be interesting to say the least.

—

Your father invited Poe to dine at your private table, and he engaged him in conversation almost the whole night. They spoke of the future, of how Poe would help rule if he were indeed to marry you. Your mother smiled silently, happy to let the conversation center around the two of you.

Din stood still behind your fathers chair and you wanted nothing more than to pull him to sit with you. To talk to him, kiss him and feed him from your own plate.

“I would want to help people to be quite honest, extend a hand to those that aren’t as fortunate as us. There are people out there starving and that doesn’t sit right with me.” He was honest, to a fault like he said but you admired that.

“That’s very noble of you my boy.” The king nodded.

“It’s very honourable isn’t it my darling?” Your mother smiled at you and you smiled back, nodding around a bite of your food.

“I’m sure the Princess and I could do much and more to help the people who need it the most, if she would let me that is.” He had a shy, genuine smile for you, tentatively reaching over and taking your hand in his. You couldn’t very well snatch it back but you felt Din’s eyes burning into the interaction.

This could get messy.

“Princess, I would humbly ask that you accompany me for a walk through the grounds - chaperoned by your knight of course.” He asked as the remnants of the meal were taken away.

“Oh I’m sure she’d love to join you wouldn’t you sweetling?” Your mother cooed, and you smiled and nodded.

“Yes of course.” You let him guide you, Din following closely behind.

—

“I hope I’m not intruding - I know that the King and Queen are very keen for this to work between us.” He held your hand as you walked arm in arm and you couldn’t help but sigh softly.

“Yes they are aren’t they.” Your tone came out a little more exasperated than you’d hoped but he was well aware that you were not to be swayed by him so easily, you knew he should expect some hesitancy from you.

“I understand that you aren’t impressed and that I am most likely not your first choice. For all I know you might already have your eye on someone else.” He laughed and you couldn’t help but look over your shoulder at Din. “Regardless of that Princess, I know this must be difficult for you but I beg of you to give me a chance to show you that there is potential here. I believe that in time you might come to love me.” He pulled your hand up to his mouth and kissed your fingers.

“You are selling yourself quite hard Poe, I appreciate that you understand that my feelings for you aren’t where you want them to be.” You looked up at him apologetically, expecting him to have a sad look on his face but he surprised you; he was smiling - content to listen to you speak.

“I know, it’s not in you right now but I believe you will see me in a different light. I have faith.” He left the conversation there.

——

It was hard to find time to meet with Din, Poe seemed to be everywhere and his determination seemingly had no bounds.

Your mother found you as you dressed for the day - she had a note from Poe. He was asking you to accompany him into town to hand out some supplies. You couldn’t refuse him, not when your mother had delivered it herself.

“Will Din accompany us?” You asked it offhand, your voice neutral - your face a mask of nonchalance.

“No your father is going on a hunt and Din will be protecting him, there will be other guards with you.” She said it with a shake of her hand as she searched your wardrobe for an appropriate dress. “This will do nicely.” She picked out an off the shoulder, deep berry coloured dress that was not at all practical for a day out in the city.

It would have to do.

He had taken you to an orphanage in the heart of the city. There were kids running around of all ages and the older ones ran towards Poe when you entered - recognizing him. He had a big smile on his face as they hugged him around the middle, all decorum forgotten.

“Poe did you bring us anything?” A boy of about twelve years was eager, looking around you to the entourage of guards waiting behind you.

“Of course, brought all of you some good stuff like I always do.” He ruffled the boys hair before he held his hand out to you, you smiled and stepped forward. “I have someone very special here with me today, this is the Princess. Come on over and say hello.” He called them over to you and you saw some of the little girls eyes light up. They flocked to you, asking you if you were indeed the Princess. Asked you if you had a crown, and most importantly why you were there. They were precious.

“She’s here to help just like I am.” Poe answered for you.

A little girl of about six pulled on your dress and you lowered yourself slightly to be at her level.

“Princess, I like your dress, you’re so pretty.” She was smiling at you, her hair was a tangle but her eyes were bright.

“Thank you sweetling, you are much prettier I must say.” You moved the hair out of her eyes and she smiled wide, her little hand clutching at a makeshift cloth doll.

You helped Poe hand out toys and new clothes and there was food for them to eat. You spent the day playing with them and learning about their lives. The women who ran the orphanage knew him and you saw that all of the talk of helping the less fortunate was real, he had already been doing much more than you had ever even imagined.

It was hard to deny the little spark of something that he held within you.

He was handsome, he was kind and smart- funny and generous and with the way his eyes found yours throughout the day; he felt something for you. His eyes were piercing, dark and mysterious and for the first time, he gave you butterflies.

One of the little ones was showing you his space within the building, his bed and his tiny toy horse. He was waxing poetic about how one day he would be a knight. You were smiling at him when Poe stood next to you, his gaze heavy and it sent a flush crawling up your neck to light up your ears.

The fabric at his neck was crumpled and you couldn’t help but reach up to fix it, your arm extended over to him and his gaze focused on it, reached up to hold it to his neck. He placed a delicate kiss to your bicep and pulled you closer. The act was small, but so intimate it did something to you. Melted a tiny piece of you that up until now was frozen to him and he saw it on your face. Felt it in the way you let him hold you close, your arm still around his neck, his hand moving down to hold onto your waist.

The little boy was in front of you now, asking Poe if he would ever give him a real horse and he laughed, not unkindly.

“One day my boy, one day I will give you a horse - only if you promise to behave and be on your best behaviour. Can you do that?” The little boy nodded sagely promising he would. You didn’t pull your arm away, and you couldn’t pinpoint why.

—-

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crybabyalexxx · 3 years ago

Text

Nova

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have a secret arrangement. Inspired by Billie Eilish’s ‘Billie Bossa Nova’

Warnings: NSFW 18+, submissive Bucky, dominant reader, BDSM involved

A/N: This was very fun to write as always. It is my first time writing anything for Bucky but this song just reminds me so much of him and I couldn’t help myself. Hope everyone enjoys it! I always get so nervous before posting a story.

Word Count: 2k

Here you were at another one of Tony’s parties. It’s not like you weren’t having any fun, it’s just that you’d rather be somewhere else. With someone else. It was rare when everyone got a moment for themselves so you all enjoyed it when everyone was together. Made you feel like a real family. But tonight, you only wanted to be with one person.

“Hey stranger, you’re quiet tonight. Everything alright?’ Natasha makes her way up to you, drink in hand. She always made sure you were treated well and felt comfortable. You were so thankful for her.

“Yeah, just a little tired.” Across the room from you was Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier. You two came face to face a few times on missions, before and after you joined the team. He hates to admit it but you were a tough one to fight. You love to remind him how easily you can kick his ass. You loved it when you got him down on his knees.

Bucky couldn’t keep his eyes off of you all night. From the moment you walked into the room with that silk green dress. It was causal, yet he adored you. He was quieter than usual, but everyone blew it off as ‘Bucky being Bucky’, and he didn’t mind. He just needed you. Bucky knew you thought the same thing too, it was the way you were looking at him. Like you wanted him on his knees. He wanted to obey.

Nobody knew but you and Bucky would regularly meet. When everyone was asleep, you and the Winter Soldier would sneak off and hide behind closed doors. It all started one night after training, the way he was breathing against you. Your legs wrapped around him tightly. Then it happened again after a mission, him knocking on your door and you pulling him in. It’s hard to stop it once it starts. After a while, Bucky told you about him wanting to be submissive. It threw you off at first, you figured after being mind washed for all those years that he would want to be in control for once.

“Sometimes everything becomes too much and I just want someone to take a little control every once in a while.” Bucky lied with you on one of the many hotel beds you’ve been in together.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, James. I understand, I’ll do it. I was always good at getting you on your knees for me.”

“I think I’m gonna go ahead and get to bed. Behave for me will ya?” Natasha smirks and gives you a wink.

“You know me y/n, I like to have a little fun before bed.” You wink back at her and head out to the elevator, with a Bucky Barnes hot on your heels. You didn’t even have to look at him to make him come to you. It won’t be the only time tonight either.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Doll.” It had been a while since the two of you had been in the same room together. So when you both heard you had the weekend off, you couldn’t let that opportunity pass. He’d been worked up and you didn’t want to wait any longer. You loved it when he came without a warning, sometimes waiting can get so boring. You wiped the cum off your hands with your tongue. “Don’t apologize, James, I like how worked up you get.” Bucky chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Only you do it how I like.”

You and Bucky don’t say anything on the way up to your room. You were lucky enough to have your rooms across from each other, nobody would know that he was secretly with you. It was like a routine, a dance between the two of you. Bucky undressed and waited for your command. You walk around him in circles, like he was prey. He wanted you to devour him already.

“On the bed.” He grew an erection immediately. Just by your three simple words. He did as he was told like a good soldier. He even held his hands above his head without having to be told. You straddle his waist as you tie him up. Bucky shuts his eyes tight, he knows he won’t last long with the way you look, fully dressed and slightly grazing him where he needed you most.

You smirk and grind your hips roughly, causing Bucky to throw his head back hard into the pillow. It was as if somebody knocked the wind out of him. His eyes shot open and he swore there was nothing more beautiful than the sight above him. You smiling down at him, your hair coming down loosely. He wasn’t going to last long. You could feel him squirming slightly underneath you. “Y/n, please.”

“Name?”

“Nova.” When you and Bucky weren’t back at the compound, you were in different hotels. Using different names at hotel check-ins. It was routine. Being together for the night, just to feel something. You wanted to be in control and Bucky was more than happy to be controlled by you. You hadn’t realized how much you enjoyed it, having him this way. He could easily take control if he wanted to. But you had him at your mercy, and you were an addict for him.

You were never the sentimental type, but there was something about the way he looked right now for you tonight. Tied up and an absolute mess. You wanted to keep him like this forever. “You make me wanna take a picture of you, James.” You were completely naked for him now. His erection trapped in between your folds, you raked your nails up and down his arms and chest. You made sure to take your time with his metal arm. Made sure he knew that all of him deserved to feel good tonight. “All tied up and wrecked because of me.” Bucky rolled his hips forward to get some sort of friction from you. You held his hips down and tsked. “Be a good soldier now Barnes.” You could make a movie with him that you both would have to hide.

Bucky grunted and threw his head back in frustration. “The things you do to me, Doll.”

You kiss your way up to his neck, “Don’t get sentimental on me James.”

You’d been ignoring bucky all day. It was one of those days where everyone just kind of kept to themselves. You read a few books and paid no mind to Bucky when he walked in the room. You didn’t even look at him when you two were alone in the library. You could feel his eyes on you every second. You could feel how squirmy he was because of it. Even when he caught up with you on the elevator, you simply pulled out your phone and acted like it was the most interesting thing to you. It pained Bucky to not be able to reach out to you. It was torture not having you all over him, your hands pulling at his hair, grabbing his waist, and dragging him to your room. He almost went back to his room, but before he reached the doorknob he looked back at you one last time. He was surprised to see you staring back at him, then you entered your room without closing the door behind you. He took that as an invitation.

Once he closes the door behind him he grabs you and pins you against the door. “Look at me when we’re alone, please.” You knew it wouldn’t take much to get him going. You knew it was torture though. He kissed you like you could one day slip away. “I know, I know.”

You were glad that these walls were soundproof. The noises he was pulling out of you, the sounds he made in your ear. It was like a song you never got tired of hearing. The way he stretched you out, yet fit inside you so perfectly. This was all you needed. He was all you needed. If anybody saw you two this way, you don’t know what they would think. The Winter Soldier begging to come. Moaning out your name. You squeeze around him at the thought. “Fuck! If you keep doing that I’m not gonna last much longer.” You lean in closer to him and squeeze around him once more. “Promise?”

Bucky couldn’t get enough of you, he left hickeys anywhere his mouth could reach. “You leave a strong impression don’t you Barnes?” It might be more of an obsession.

“Anyone see you?” He layed you down softly on the bed.

“No, you?” There was a slight knot in your stomach. You didn’t understand it.

“No.” Bucky continued his assault on your breast.

They won’t see me in your arms, you thought.

You’re not sentimental but there’s something about the way he looks tonight. Desperate, aching, and all yours. You could feel bucky tense up beneath you so you decided to drag this out a little longer. You rocked your hips back and forth slowly. Taking his cock in and out of you torturously slow. “Please Doll.” You’ll never get tired of hearing him beg.

“Who do you belong to?” You started to slam into him and Bucky saw stars.

“I won’t repeat myself, James.” You squeezed his throat gently.

“You! I belong to you y/n! Fuck.” You were going to be the death of him.

“Good Soldier.”

Sometimes you thought about being with Bucky. What it would be like to not have to sneak around and just be with each other. You wondered if Bucky thought the same. You wanted everyone to know the people you two became when you’re alone together. Even make them jealous for a change.

‘What are you thinking about?” You layed in Bucky’s arms, not having the energy to go back to your room yet. If you were being honest with yourself, you enjoyed the feeling of being in Bucky’s arms. The coolness of his metal arm with the warmth of his body. You stayed silent for a while. Debating whether or not to tell him the truth.

“That I’m the only one who does it how you like.”

You climb off of him and ride his thigh instead. Bucky whimpers and stares at you. He could feel how wet you are. You lean down and leave hickeys on his hips roughly. Once you are satisfied you climb completely off him and leave him hard and bare. He takes in a deep breath and pulls against his restraints. It was torture, but you both loved it. Bucky shuts his eyes again. ‘Please.” It won’t take much to get him going. “I know, I know.”

You walk around to the foot of the bed, fully naked. You saw your masterpiece. He was a work of art to you. The way his chest rose, the redness in his cheeks. The trail of your lips splattered all across his body. You were obsessed.

Bucky can hear your soft footsteps. He doesn’t dare look, he knows he won’t last long if he does.

“Look at me a little more James.” It took everything in him not to come the moment he saw you. He could see the wetness dripping from your cunt. The small hickeys covering your body, the ones he left. You were worth waiting for. He was obsessed.

His heavy breathing could have you on the floor. You watched him look your body up and down like it was a piece of art. You didn’t have to say anything, Bucky knew what you wanted. He wanted it too.

“I’m yours.”

You weren’t sentimental, but tonight there was something about him.

“I’m yours.”

#alex writes #alexxx writes #bucky barnes #sub bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barns x you #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #the winter solider smut #the winter solider imagine #the winter solider x reader #dom reader

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rafescoke · 3 years ago

Text

New Girl ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Just as Rafe thought his life couldn’t get any worse, a new girl moved into town.

Warnings: Straight smut! Mentions of trauma, extreme love-hate relationship, fluff

A/N: thank you so much for 600+ followers wtf ily <33

p.s; you know the drill. . . send requests!

One thing that Rafe was sure of; he was no tour guide, or anything of the sort.

Sure, he got himself into trouble; vandalising the principal’s office and destroying school’s properties, but that was it. He didn’t try to include the part where he goes to parties to get high and wake up the next evening with a painful headache, that was more to his personal life and he believed no one in the education system could have the advantage to be mad at him for it.

“I simply just won’t do it,” Rafe shrugged, sighing against the chair. “Look, why don’t you ask Topper to help this new kid? He’s good in class.”

“You answered yourself, Mr. Cameron,” the counsellor sighed, placing a file on top of the table lightly. “He’s good at school work, and you’re not. That’s why we’re going with you.”

So that was the core reason as to why Rafe was waiting impatiently for the arrival of the new student, whom he didn’t even care about to know the gender. All he wanted was to sit at the back of the school and light some joints.

“Mr. Cameron, this is Ms. (Y/L/N).”

Rafe took a look at her. He bit the insides of his cheeks, thinking how she didn’t even make an effort to dress properly for her first day in a new schoolz

An oversized tee and denim shorts. Really?

“Hi,” she smiled, extending her hands. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Rafe,” was all he said, before handing her her timetable for the semester.

She scanned the paper, nodding slightly and pointed at a word. When she realised how Rafe wasn’t listening, she cleared her throat.

“What?”

“I got Biology with Mr Garcia. Where’s Room 3?”

Rafe scooted closer next to her, and the smell of strawberry cheesecake wafted into his nostrils. He took a step back, seething.

Who would even wear a cakey perfume?

“Uh, that’s like, at the end of the hall?” He answered, but it was more like a question. He looked at the direction he was noting, and nodded again. “Definitely the one at the end of the hall.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” She asked, crossing her arms. “Where’s my locker?”

Rafe took another look at her timetable, searching for her locker number.

372.

He turned to look at his own locker, finding the number, and letting out an ‘oh’. “Yours just 4 lockers away from mine.”

“Thanks.” She muttered, and Rafe sighed before fixing the left side of his bag strap dangling from his left shoulder. “Is that it? Can I go?”

“Not so fast, Rafe,” the counsellor sighed, stopping him by his chest. “You’re supposed to stay with her for the week. Help her get around. And you’re supposed to show her around the school compound now.”

Rafe looked up to the counsellor with a pained expression and then back to (Y/N), his chest heavy. “Fine. Let’s go. What do you call yourself again?”

Right before lunch, Rafe stayed over in his class for a few minutes before going out to the hall. He didn’t want to see the new girl, and he didn’t feel like being her assistant anymore.

But the world wasn’t that fair.

(Y/N) grinned, walking towards him. “Can you show me the cafeteria?”

“How do you even know my class?” He muttered, keeping a distance between them. The last thing he ever wanted was to let the news of him being with the new girls circulating around the school, or worse, the whole island.

“My class is directly in front of yours. We parted just now.”

Of course she would remember that.

. . .

A week went by quickly, and before Rafe would know it, he didn’t see (Y/N) anymore, and he was content with it.

Until her family decided to become neighbours with his.

“What do you mean the (Y/L/N) bought the house next to us?” He groaned, watching as Rose and Ward prepared to greet themselves to the new family.

The last thing he wanted was to show her around the fucking island like he was some kind of a hotel worker.

She was in a yellow sundress, and Rafe couldn’t help but notice the way her (H/C) glowed under the sunlight. She looked similar to her mother, both bringing pastries as a way to introduce themselves.

“Hi, we just moved next door,” Mrs (Y/L/N) said, showing the Camerons her pearly white teeth. Rafe wondered if she ever got them done, because it’s not possible for a human to have such white assets.

“Hi, welcome to Obx,” Ward gushed, accepting the pastries happily. “Rafe, take the other cake.”

(Y/N) looked up at the sound of his name, and to Rafe’s amusement, began gritting her teeth. He took the cake with a smirk, happy that he got her all worked up.

He would definitely have the best time of his life taunting the shit out of this girl.

. . .

“Hey, wanna ride a boat?”

“Topper, leave her alone,” Rafe sighed, fixing his cap so it was facing backwards. “She’s not interested.”

(Y/N) perked up at this invitation, never actually riding a boat alone if it wasn’t during a holiday since she was originally from the city. She walked towards her neighbour’s deck, her skin illuminating the golden sunrays.

“Sure.”

Rafe mentally groaned, having to deal with the girl now, but he wasn’t sure if he was angry or jealous. It wasn’t him to be jealous easily, but after a week of becoming her tour guide, he guessed he deserves some kind of a credit from her. Topper didn’t do anything, but she was gladly accepting his invitation.

Their usual stroll along the stream of the island was not like usual, since the air was now filled with the annoying chatter between (Y/N) and Topper. Rafe could never relate with them, only wanting to relax his mind and sleep it off.

“So you’re a city girl? That’s great!”

“Sure Tops,” Rafe wondered, smiling delightly. Anything to get into a girl’s pants. . .

“You know what, (Y/N)?” He called from the place he was resting, and he waited a few seconds before continuing his speech. “If you’re looking for a boyfriend, Topper’s not the guy. He hasn’t moved on from his ex-girlfriend.”

Sure, he would get a lot of shit from Topper for saying that, but he was done with the pointless flirting between them.

“What about you?”

Rafe opened his eyes, watching her from behind his sunglasses. He shifted his position, “What about me?”

“Have you moved on from your ex-girlfriend?”

Has he moved on from Kie? He wasn’t entirely sure. Their relationship was brief, but she was all Rafe had. When she decided to go all full-pogue, he knew there was nothing left of them.

“I don’t date.”

“I can see why,” she said, and Rafe swore he heard some kind of mirth behind her tone.

“Have you?”

“Moved on from an ex?”

Rafe nodded, opening his eyes slightly.

“I guess.”

“Good for him.”

“Excuse me?” She gasped, pushing him lightly. “You’re an asshole.”

She leaned closer onto him, and for a second Rafe thought about letting her in his bubble, but he quickly shoved her away. “Watch it.”

“I’m just trying to tell you about that fucking fly on your face.”

“Yeah? Liar.”

(Y/N) huffed, stomping back to Topper, and Rafe laughed silently.

1-0.

. . .

Fuck.

If he would’ve known about the police raid in Topper’s party, he wouldn’t have come to his house at all. But here he was; all pushed up against the metal chair of the police station, his hair messy and his eyes bloodshot.

“We’re taking a urine test, son,” Shoupe said, sighing. “There’s always something wrong with you.”

Rafe thought about (Y/N) suddenly, and how she was probably back home and watching some kind of a rom-com. That’s totally her; all cuddled up with a pink teddy bear probably named ‘Bear-bear’, constantly wiping the tears off her face over the sad breakup scene of a movie.

Rafe was forced to strip out of his shirt and jeans before entering the small cubicle, and having to go through this same procedure for quite a few times now, he didn’t mind giving a show to the workers.

He quickly zipped his jeans bag, handing a female worker a cup filled to the end with his urine. He yawned, already knowing the results, so there was no use being nervous about it.

He was picked up by an angry Ward an hour later. He groaned, getting in the car to prepare himself for the same lecture about his future and how he shouldn’t jeopardise it, but he was shocked when Ward didn’t utter a word at all.

It was very uncomfortable, but he guessed he was just tired.

“Good morning.”

Rafe rubbed his eyes against the bright sunlight, feeling the pain from his head slowly soaring throughout his body. He squinted his eyes at the figure in front of him again, trying to blink the blurriness away.

“What the fuck?”

“Your mom told me to call for you,” (Y/N) said, looking away from him. Rafe looked down to his body, seeing his shirtless self, and laughed.

Of fucking course she would be uncomfortable with him being shirtless.

“She’s not my mom,” he grunted, removing the covers off of him and checking his phone for the time.

12.43p.m.

“Fuck,” he muttered, and his eyes turned to her again. “What are you doing here again? Leave.”

“Waiting for you.”

“I’ll be downstairs in a few seconds,” he muttered. He didn’t need her to be some kind of maid for him.

(Y/N) muttered some curse word, hoping that riled him up, but she would be stupid if she thought a random curse word would make him Rafe Cameron angry.

It would take a lot more to raise an expression from Rafe Cameron, and a curse word definitely wouldn’t.

. . .

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

His boat was not working, but he had just filled her up the night before. This was the newest model too, and he couldn’t afford asking Ward to fix his boat again. Not when he was caught with being on drugs from his urine test last week, and the only reason he got out of the trouble was because of Ward again.

“Is it not working, Rafey?”

Rafe looked up to the sound. (Y/N) was watching him with a sly grin, shielding her eyes with her hands from the sun like she was some goddamn queen that would melt from the heat.

“What did you do to my boat?” He groaned, trying to turn the ignition again.

“What did I do? Come on, why do you always think so bad of me? That’s kinda ru—”

Before she could continue her taunt, Rafe climbed the deck, inching closer towards her and smeling that goddamn cake smell again.

Hell, he’ll buy her a new perfume to stop breathing in that fucking smell.

“That’s kinda what?” He whispered. He was so close to her now, and he could hear her breath hitching. He smirked, his heart soaring.

“You’re kinda dumb for a kook, Rafe,” she sighed. She dangled a familiar key in front of him, and when Rafe took a closer look, he noticed it was the key to his boat.

She threw the key into the water and Rafe watched it plopped, moving straight towards the deep end. His eyes flared at her again, his chest heaving.

“Hope you have a spare key.”

1-1.

. . .

That should be good, he guessed, for being in a tie with (Y/N). But he doesn’t like someone being in the same league as him, so it must be 2-1.

And the 2 from him.

But that was for another day, because Kiara Carrera was in front of him. He fixed his cap so it was facing backwards again, and then putting his hands into his pockets for good measure.

“Hey,” he greeted her. She smiled at him grimly before looking back at the menu, clearly uninterested. “How’re you?”

“I’m. . . great,” she breathed. “Why?”

“Just asking,” he shrugged, “Do you wanna go out for some drinks sometimes? Like the old times?”

Rafe curled his toes, waiting nervously.

“Um, I have to check with my parents first,” she replied. “But, Rafe, you know, it’s been. . . a year.”

“Of course,” he laughed, trying to hide the sudden emotion inside him. “I meant hanging out as a friend.”

“Of course!” She suddenly exclaimed, “If you would bring (Y/N) with us.”

“Oh, I don’t-”

“You don’t?”

“I- fine. I’ll bring her with me. Is tomorrow okay?” He sighed, already foreseeing the future.

And it’s full of shit.

“Tomorrow.”

. . .

“Wow, I am not going to third wheel you and someone, Rafe,” (Y/N) laughed, resting her back against her chair.

“Please,” Rafe begged, sighing. He didn’t know how much begging he could do anymore, not when he had so many things to do. He took a deep breath again, “I’ll do anything for you back.”

“Including hooking me up with JJ?”

“Yes- no. No. What the fuck? Where did you even know this guy?” He expressed, his eyebrows furrowing. He was not going to let her a pull a Kie, though they weren’t dating.

“He helps mower the lawn.”

Of course. JJ Maybank would never pass the chance to get some money while checking out girls.

“I’m not helping you to get together with JJ,” he sighed. “Can we go for a better option? Like Landon? He’s rich.”

“I’m richer,” she yawned. “Okay. Fine. Topper.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Not going to happen.”

If she ever thought about him allowing her to date his best friend, she has to be a lot smarter than that.

He didn’t know why he wouldn’t allow it. Maybe he was scared of Topper hurting her.

Or maybe he just couldn’t imagine her with someone else.

“Then we have no deal,” she replied simply, gazing at her newly painted nails. She gazed at Rafe who seemed to be thinking hard from the top of her sunglasses.

He groaned. “Fine. I’ll help you with Topper. But I’m warning you; he. Has. Not. Moved. On.”

“Oh, he will.”

. . .

Kie was all up on Rafe.

He didn’t know what had gotten into her, because she was never this. . . strong-willed.

Kie had her hands placed against Rafe’s chest, kissing him tenderly and sometimes running her fingers through his hair.

Rafe sucked in a breath, watching as she part. Her mouth formed into a grin, and Rafe couldn’t help but grin back.

“Wanna do it?”

Did he? Of course he wanted to “do it”. He had been wanting to do so since forever. He would be crazy to say no to that invitation, and he was definitely sane.

He looked at (Y/N), who was awkwardly perched up on the sofa, tucking her legs under her and watching some kind of a movie on her phone. Her eyes looked up to Rafe, and she quickly looked away.

“In one of the rooms?”

Kie seemed to look around the boat for a while, like he was looking for someone, but there were only two of them. And (Y/N).

“Fine,” she huffed, and pulled him towards one of the rooms by his wrist.

Kie pushed him onto the bed, and Rafe wondered how she got this side of her. Throughout their 6 months of dating, she never showed him this, so this was a bit of a shock to him.

“Hey, hey,” Rafe gripped her wrists, holding her still. “We don’t have to rush.”

“I want to,” she said, and leaned closer. “I thought you wanted this?”

They began making out, his hand slipping down her back to grab her ass, only to be met with her vibrating phone in her back pocket.

“I’ll get it,” he mumbled against the kiss, and pulled her phone out.

A picture of JJ Maybank’s smiling face right next to Kie greeted him, and his name was perched on top of the screen, signalling his call.

Of course. She never wanted to fuck him. It was always to make someone jealous. That explained the gritted teeth Kie would make when he mentioned JJ earlier.

He sighed, pushing her away so she ended up by his side. “I gotta go.”

“Huh?” Kie sat up straight, looking from Rafe to her phone. She saw the caller, cleared her throat, and held up a finger to tell him to wait.

He should’ve known.

. . .

Rafe never liked the annual Obx’s drive-in movie theatre, because he really didn’t get the hype of watching a mainstream movie that he had watched with Wheezie a lot of times before in his car.

This year, it was way worse; they decided to have some kind of a horror themed drive-in movie theatre, and the best part of all; (Y/N) was going with Topper.

Rafe groaned for the thousandth time at the rapping of a clown against his car window. He gave the clown his middle finger, telling him ‘watch it, you’re scratching my car’, and moving his attention back to the screen.

Annabelle had disappeared from the room the two nurses had placed her in, and the volume quietened before booming again when the doll had appeared in the living room, perching on top of the sofa.

He rolled his eyes, and took a look at (Y/N) and his best friend laying in the back part of his jeep from the rearview window.

They were cuddling.

“Fuck off,” he grunted, throwing his hands into the air. A human-sized Annabelle pulled on the shotgun’s door now, and Rafe gave the actor another middle finger before yelling a ‘fuck you’.

“This is ridiculous,” he said to no one in particular. He stepped out of the vehicle, knowing damn well he would be the target of the ghosts now, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was to step away from all of this and maybe refill his soda.

He made his way to the back of the lot, getting his money out beforehand. Some type of a wannabe Michael Myers came up, to which he quickly put a hand up to stop him.

“Don’t. I’m not in the mood.”

Michael Myers seemed to get him, because he left to scare someone else.

“Refill,” he sighed, giving the worker his cup. “Coke.”

“You mean like literal coke?”

Rafe looked behind him, surprised to see a red-faced (Y/N) holding a popcorn bucket. He licked his teeth. “Why? Have you tried it before?”

(Y/N) went up beside him, muttering about putting more caramel in her popcorn to the worker before looking at him. “You seem mad.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“That’s because you’re all up in my business,” he scoffed. He turned to look at his coke, but the worker was still filling the cup up.

Good. Did the machine break or something?

“Where’s the girlfriend?” She asked. She was clearly amused by his sudden tightness, but he quickly softened, as to not rile her up.

“Where’s the fuckbud- I mean boyfriend? Sorry. It just slipped.”

(Y/N) nodded, her mouth forming into a grin. “If you’re jealous, you can just say that.”

“Wait, wait, of what, exactly?”

She shrugged.

“Yeah, exactly. No. For all I care, you guys can get married and move to fucking Antartica and have mini (Y/N)s and Christophers running around.”

The worker placed the newly refilled coke and caramelised popcorn on the counter, and Rafe wondered why she would receive her food at the same time as his when had come here first.

He rolled his eyes, grabbing the drink and walking back towards the car.

(Y/N) jogged to catch up with him, her popcorn bouncing against her chest. “You’re rude, do you know that?”

“Jesus Christ, we’re still on this?” He mumbled. He was still walking, but he wanted her to catch up so he slowed down. He guessed it would be the perfect ending to his night to taunt her until she’s all worked up.

“I just can’t think of a reason why you’re acting so fucking rude to me.”

“Yeah? Think again.” Rafe sipped on his coke, feeling the carbonated drink sloshing down his throat. He felt content, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the coke or from the girl beside him.

“This is—”

A nurse with a bloody front suddenly appeared before them, using some kind of a spray to maximise the size of the fire from a lighter. (Y/N) screamed, turning away from the heat, and Rafe quickly caught her before she could end up on the floor.

“Fuck, fucking move,” he yelled to the nurse, who seemed to be satisfied with her work. Rafe turned to (Y/N), trying to check on her state.

“Yo, yo, you good? Why are you shaking?”

She was trembling really hard against him. She had her arms around Rafe’s neck, her popcorn splattered on the ground. She jolted when a scream came from the speaker.

“Come on, let’s get you to the car,” he mumbled, helping her walk. She kept her face hidden in the crook of his neck, and Rafe had to try his best to balance both of the girl and the Coke in his hands back to the vehicle.

Topper was no longer in the back seat, perhaps looking for Sarah (Rafe wasn’t a bit surprised at this). He was glad his best friend wasn’t there, because the last thinf he needed was two people freaking out on him.

“Okay, chill, I got you,” Rafe grunted, placing the Coke in the cup holder before seating the girl beside the driver’s seat. He sighed before climbing into the driver’s seat and locked the door in case some kind of a crazy maniac tried to freak her out again.

“What’s wrong?”

She didn’t answer, not that Rafe expected her to. She looked like she was reminded by some kind of memory, but Rafe didn’t want to dwell so much on it.

If he could, he would reverse his car out of this lot back to their homes, but he was one of the first cars to arrive at the drive-in theatre, so it was impossible to get out.

He sighed, placing his hands against his lap. “You can tell me, you know.”

She finally looked up to him, and Rafe’s breath hitched from the sight of her red eyes. He softened.

Whatever it was with that fire, it had triggered some kind of a memory in her.

He placed a hand against her lap, but not moving so; just a splat of his hand against her soft skin. He had meant for that as comfort, but he realised how creepy the situation was. He pulled away, clearing his throat.

So they stayed until the end of the movie, just the two of them, and Rafe was sure she wasn’t even watching the remaining parts of the movie. He pretended to watch, but he was really just staring at her the whole time.

Will she ever let her hair down like this again? Because he liked it.

When the movie ended and the cars were starting to move, Rafe slowly reversed the car so as to not shake her awake. But she was a light sleeper, and she woke up as soon as he hit the brakes.

She rubbed her eyes, “Where are we going?”

“Home,” he answered. “You’re okay?”

She didn’t answer, and Rafe knew she wasn’t.

. . .

Two weeks after the incident, they never spoke of it again.

Rafe tried to get an answer out, but to no avail. He didn’t get why he was trying his best to help her, because he, too, needed help.

“Nah. I won’t invite her. If you want (Y/N) to come, then you’ll have to invite her yourself.”

Wheezie’s shoulders slumped, “But you’re close to her!”

“I’m not, and she hates my guts,” Rafe replied honestly. Because that was the truth, right? She didn’t even want to tell him about why she was so scared of fire.

“Invite me to what?”

“(Y/N)!” Wheezie ran to hug her, to which (Y/N) laughed before patting her on the crown of her head. “Tell her, Rafe!”

Is she fucking serious?

“Tell me what?” (Y/N) looked up to Rafe strangely.

“Wheezie wants to have a movie night, and she wants you to watch with us.” Rafe sighed, hating how he couldn’t just ignore Wheezie. She was definitely Rafe’s favourite, being so close to her brother ever since she was born.

“Oh, is that true?” She smiled, looking at Wheezie. “Should I come and wear my best pajamas?”

“You’re not sleeping over, your house is literally 5 minutes away. 2 if you run.” Rafe rolled his eyes. He went up to the counter to pick up a sandwich before biting into it, tasting the creamy eggs and ham. He licked his lips.

“She can sleep with Sarah, right, (Y/N)?”

“If she wants me too. . .”

Rafe rolled his eyes again, “Sarah won’t be with us for tonight’s movie night. She’s starting to hang out with the pogues.”

“Why are you so against the pogues?” (Y/N) asked, when Wheezie left to write a reminder of tonight’s event in her diary.

“Why can’t you just shut your mouth?” He sighed. “It’s all bla bla bla bla. Can’t you see you’ll be happier without having to open your mouth every few seconds?”

(Y/N) bit her lips, and for a second, Rafe had to look away from the look she was giving him.

Shit. Why was he even looking away?

She turned to go away, but was halted by Rafe’s fingers around her wrist. She groaned, turning her attention back to him. “What?”

“You still haven’t told me about the night of the drive-in theatre.”

“Good,” was all she said, before she went back by the sliding door to her home.

. . .

“Rafe would be mad if he saw me watching this.”

“It’s rom-com! And it’s totally PG-13. Trust me on this, okay? Anne Hathaway, yeah, that girl, yes, she’s going to get prettier throughout the movie.” (Y/N) smiled, popping popcorn into her mouth.

Wheezie sighed, placing her head against (Y/N)’s shoulders and yawned. “Like what? Princess Diaries?”

“Yes, but this is The Devil Wears Prada. You’ll love it!”

A beam of light filled the mini movie theatre of The Camerons, signalling the late arrival of Rafe Cameron. He brought two chocolate bars, a Coke (again) and some chicken nuggets.

“Move,” he said, motioning to Wheezie.

“There are more seats around here!” Wheezie hissed, crossing her arms. “I’m not leaving (Y/N).”

“You’re not leaving her, silly, you’re just scooting more to the right.”

“What’s in it for me?” She raised a brow.

“Nuggets?”

She scooted to the side, giving more space for Rafe to place himself beside an annoyed (Y/N).

Out of all 7 medium-sized sofas in the theatre, he decided to pick the one the two girls were sitting on.

Rafe handed Wheezie the plate full of chicken nuggets, looking at (Y/N) before watching the screen. He groaned, “What’s this? Trash?”

“A masterpiece, so shut up,” (Y/N) replied. Rafe huffed, amused, and unwrapped the chocolate bar.

“Want some?”

“No.”

“Come on,” he cooed, placing the chocolate before her eyes. She grunted, pushing his hands away.

Rafe took that as his final warning. He didn’t want to annoy her even more, knowing that she will probably not talk to him anymore. He decided to wait until half an hour later, just to taunt her again.

“I’m going to get more popcorn,” Wheezie suddenly said after an hour into the movie. She excused herself to the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.

(Y/N) sighed. Great, just like how she wanted.

“What do you want from me?” Anne Hathaway’s voice blared from the speaker, and Rafe looked at (Y/N).

“What do you want from me?” He asked, repeating the dialogue. (Y/N) watched him from the corners of her eyes, not getting any delight from this.

“For you to shut up.”

“Really? That’s boring,” he sighed. “Do you want to know what I want from you?”

“Sure.”

“I’m thinking of a few things. Maybe you, on my lap.”

(Y/N)’s breath hitched, but she tried her best not to look disturb. She shifted in her seating position.

Rafe leaned closer, feeling her heat. “Your turn.”

You know what? Fuck it.

(Y/N) turned to look at him fully in his face, leaning even closer that a part of her was practically on top of him. “Do you know what I think of you, Rafe?”

His eyes dropped to her lips, and he swore his heartbeat quit beating.

“I think about you, Rafe,” she whispered. “All pressed up against me in my bed, whim-”

“More popcorn!”

(Y/N) returned to her previous position, bewildered. She fixed her hair, and her eyes were back to the screen.

If Wheezie were to hang out with a pogue right now, Rafe wouldn’t give a fuck.

“Well, the ending’s shitty,” Rafe exclaimed, clapping his hands. He watched as the end credits rolled, and took a look at Wheezie.

He nudged her, sighing. “Wake up, Wheeze. Go to your room.”

She groaned, searching for her fallen glasses. Rafe helped her to put them on, and gave her another poke.

“I want to watch the movie.”

“The movie’s finished. It’s time to sleep. Go.”

Wheezie groaned, muttering how it’s not fair that her brother could stay up with (Y/N) to watch more movies, but she guessed she was too tired for another round of movie anyways.

“What’s the next pick?”

“Horror.”

“Nah.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’re going to freak out on me again.”

“I won’t,” she assured him. “Let’s go with Hereditary.”

Rafe’s fingers and (Y/N)’s were almost touching. He was still bothered by her comment before Wheezie came barging in, and he was still desperate to hear her reply.

“(Y/N)?”

“Hm?”

“What were you trying to say?”

(Y/N) stopped watching, and looked at him. “What?”

“About you thinking of me.”

She blushed. “Nah.”

“Come on,” he nudged. When she didn’t move, he tried placing his hand against her thigh.

(Y/N) stood up suddenly, and for a second, Rafe thought he had fucked up. He watched as she went to the door, locked it, and went back to their place.

“You locked the door.”

“Yeah.”

Rafe licked his lips, smirking slightly. “Ah, I see the game you’re playing.”

“What game?” She raised a brow, only turning to the screen when a scream blared from the speaker.

“Hey, look at me.” Rafe tugged on her chin, forcing her to look at him, and his eyes actually looked into hers. He noticed the (E/C) colour of her eyes now, and he swore he had never looked at something more appealing. “Tell me.”

She stayed quiet, not moving a muscle.

Rafe sighed, getting impatient. He leaned closer now, this time his lips merely an inch away from her cheeks. He could feel the heat radiating from her.

“Tell me, baby.”

“You getting all close to me isn’t helping, Cameron,” she sighed, laying her head against the sofa.

“Still playing hard to get?”

“I’m not playing anything.”

Rafe slowly placed a kiss against her temple before trailing down to her cheeks. She sucked in a breath, and Rafe smiled.

“Still playing?”

She nodded.

Rafe’s lips touched hers by a bit, and she let out a moan she had been trying her very best to contain. Rafe chuckled, pulling away.

“Still playing?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s a yes? Or a no?”

“That’s a fuck you.”

“Oh,” Rafe smiled. “Thought you never asked.”

His kiss was gentle. So soft, and (Y/N) had never felt something like that before. The kiss deepened when she let out a soft moan, riling Rafe even more.

He pulled her up onto his chest, letting her hands rest against his chest before pulling her away. Her lips were red, and there was a string of their saliva hanging from both of their lips.

“What do you want, (Y/N)?”

“You.”

“Huh?”

“You.”

He smiled, tugging on her shirt. “Off.”

She wasted no time to remove her shirt, exposing her new black bra she ordered online a few days before. Rafe sat back, his eyes dark.

“Jesus Christ.”

He kissed her neck, trailing down to her collar bones before stopping directly on her chest. His fingers fiddled with the bra clip, being so used with this already, and removed the piece of clothing with ease.

(Y/N) instinctively covered her chest, her chest heaving.

Rafe looked up to her, his eyes softening. “What’s wrong?”

“Am not comfortable.”

“Oh, that’s alright, we don’t have to do—”

“No, Rafe, I want this. I just don’t think I’m perfect enough for you.”

Rafe let out a breath, placing a soft kiss against her stomach. She closed her eyes, throwing her head back. He guided her hands away, exposing her perky breast to the entire theatre to see.

Rafe was glad he was the only guy present.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

“Shut up.”

He looked up into her eyes, wetting his lips. “I’ll do anything to fuck you right now.”

(Y/N) grinded against him, causing a groan to escape from his throat. He held her waist in place, not wanting to trigger his release.

“Do it,” she whispered.

The movie became a background noise as he fumbled with her shorts, grunting when he couldn’t figure out the knot.

He positioned himself before her, and looked up into her eyes again. Her chest was heaving, and she looked nervous.

“You’re okay?”

“I’m a virgin.”

Oh fuck.

Why would she even say that? He couldn’t even contain himself anymore.

He pushed himself into her, letting her get used to the feeling. He waited for her nod, signaling that she was okay and hadn’t changed her mind, and thrusted into her again.

His hands stayed around her waist to guide her, watching as her mouth slightly parted as he deepened inside her. She bit her lips, her nails clawing onto his shoulders.

“Oh my god.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, feeling his own forehead clammy. He didn’t notice her hands that had left his shoulder. She cupped his face, placing wet kisses against his cheeks.

“You’re so good for me, baby,” he whimpered, allowing her hands to guide his. She placed them around her breast as she rode him, and Rafe had never felt better.

If he has to taunt and annoy her more to get into this level again, he’ll do it again. Without any hesitation.

“I’m so close, baby, fuck,” he groaned. He gave her another longing kiss, looking down to where their bodies connect, and moaned loudly.

Just before he reached his end, he pulled her away, not wanting to plant himself into her. (Y/N) tried to wrap her fingers around his penis to which Rafe jerked at for being so sensitive. He pulled her hands away, his chest heaving.

“Don’t,” he grunted. His load shot out of his member, wetting the sofa underneath them, and Rafe quickly slapped his shaft against her core to get her to reach her end.

“Rafe, I-”

“Let it,” he whispered, watching as she tilted her head back, exposing her neck. “Let go, baby.”

She trembled slightly, finally reaching her high, and collapsed on top of the heaving boy. Rafe stroked her hair, pulling her into a lying position, and planted another soft kiss against the back of her head.

“The movie’s still on.”

“Watch the next part, it’s amazing,” Rafe whispered, still holding her close. They were both naked, still coming down from their highs, but Rafe had never felt better.

(Y/N) turned to look at him. “You’re still an asshole.”

He placed a soft kiss against her lips. “Your asshole.”

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talesofstyles · 4 years ago

Text

Drs Styles

paediatric heart surgeon harry, husband harry and dad harry. honestly the holy trinity.

warning: they did it in the car. bloody animals.

Harry

“Move your car, please!”

“What are you going to do? Write me a ticket?”

“This is in the interests of safety for the children!”

I look at the time in the car. I’ve still got about twenty to twenty-five minutes to watch this drama unfold at the school gate. I just wish we had popcorn because drop-off and parking situations at the school gates are always more entertaining than Good Morning Britain.

The school gate is a strange social scene, and honestly, I don’t blame my wife for trying to avoid it like a plague. Sometimes, you don’t even have to talk to these people to know everything about their lives and more. I swear there are more gossips in the class WhatsApp group and daily playground chattering than in the copies of The Sun and Daily Mail combined. You know who’s married, who’s getting a divorce, whose husband shagged the au pair again, whose party you haven’t been invited to, even who’s looking for a builder.

I see the school caretaker chuckling to himself as he sweeps the autumn leaves off the pathway, no doubt also enjoying our morning entertainment.

“Why is Mrs Chambers screaming like that?” Alma, our eldest daughter, asks from the back of the car.

“Because that man parks his car in a drop-off zone,” I reply, still watching him as he removes a child from his car seat. “Do you know who that is?”

“I think the boy is your classmate,” Alma turns to her sister.

Fiona, our youngest, peers over to inspect. “Oh yeah, that’s Rufus and his dad.”

“Do we like Rufus?”

“Not unless we like boys who pee down the slides,” Fiona scrunches her nose up. “He stood at the top and peed down like a waterfall. I haven’t gone down the slide ever since.”

I shake my head and let out a chuckle. “M’sure they’ve cleaned it up since, button.”

Did you know that choosing a school for your child after nursery can be a head-throbbing, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding experience? Well, it can. How is one supposed to choose a school anyway? According to the proximity? Leavers Results? Adorable uniforms? Parents’ agendas?

After many, many discussions and visits through more schools than I can count, we ended up with Thomas’s Kensington. It’s a great school, and only ten minutes away from our home, making school runs easier. The downside of this school is the fact that it costs us an arm and a leg and that they’re always trying to rip us off any chance they get. Also, they only take the kids until 11, so after that, we’ll have to look for other schools again. But since our girls are only seven and five, we can worry about that later.

There’s a strange mix of parents at this place. I went to school up in the North and the school gate scene is nothing like this. Here there are more au pairs, fancy cars, nicer clothes and people coming with impressive tans from their last weekend break in Antibes. The kids here are suited up too: the PE kit is the size of a small weekender bag, and we put them in uniforms that make them look smart, hoping that will increase the size of their brains. A child walks past our car with a cello case, another with a hockey stick. It’s a different land here. One that my socialist in-laws constantly tease us about and one which my mum was hysterical about because she was scared her grandbabies would be little Tories. I promised her I’d keep them grounded by only giving them plain hobnobs. None of those luxury chocolate covered ones.

Jokes aside, my girls are happy here. They’re thriving. They learn French and Spanish and Mandarin, even if they share a class with kids who have ridiculous names like Kitty and Archibald.

A knock at my window calls me to attention. I wind it down.

“Are you Fiona’s dad?” A mum asks me.

“I am.”

“It’s about Ophelia’s riding party this Saturday at the riding stables.”

Like I said, it’s a different land here.

“I thought we RSVPed to that?” I look at her in confusion.

“Yes, you did, but we have to change the food options as one of the partygoers is allergic to nuts. I’m making everyone aware and we need to let the guests know that they can’t bring any nuts on the day.”

A dirty joke is right there on the tip of my tongue and I’m trying my hardest to keep it in. My wife would definitely find it funny though, I’ve got to remember this and tell her later.

“Noted,” I mean, I wasn’t going to send my daughter to a party with a packet of cashews anyway but I nod politely.

“And just gift vouchers for gifts please. Smiggle, if you can.”

Again, I nod, biting my tongue at the presumptuousness. But then I suddenly panic, because we haven’t entered the realms of pony riding just yet. Do I have to buy jods and boots? If I don’t, will my daughter be the odd one out? But Ophelia’s mum saunters off before I’ve got the chance to ask.

“Do I have to go to that party, daddy?” Fiona asks.

“Well, we’ve already replied, poppet,” I tell her. “Did you not want to go?”

“I’ll go if I have to.”

I don’t answer because I get distracted by a vacant space. I edge the car forward so my girls can hop off.

“I love you both. Have a good day, make good choices.”

“Bye daddy! We’ll see you after work!”

***

Evelina London Children’s Hospital is our second home. Of course, as a children’s hospital, we try to make the place as fun as possible as not to freak those little patients out at being ill. It is bright and primary coloured, and each ward is decorated according to its own theme with different colours and lovely artworks. There are televisions and toys almost in every corner. We have a giant slide on the ground floor, and even the bins are shaped like red London buses. The aim was to help the children to forget that they’re in a hospital and take their minds off their sickness.

Since my wife and I are in the same department, our offices are next to each other, both overlooking the Thames. It’s nice up here. Would’ve been nicer if we could sneak in a quickie, but that’s practically impossible with our shared secretary’s desk sitting literally in front of our doors.

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning. Here’s your tea,” my secretary follows me into my office with a cup of tea and a tiny plate with a couple of rich tea fingers. “Clinic until 3 pm, scheduled PDA ligation in the laboratory for 4 pm and then evening rounds on the wards.”

“Mornin’ Rhonda, you look lovely today,” I greet her cheerily. She’s a stern-looking woman who definitely likes her tea as strong as tits and who has probably never cried in her life. With such severity, she runs a tight ship, but she secretly has this affectionate side in her too. Not only is she a great secretary, but she also takes care of us in a way as a grandma does. She makes us tea, feeds us in between surgeries with biscuits or nice baby cheeses and crackers just so we wouldn’t starve.

See that sofa over there in the corner of my office? Rhonda got me that. It was around the time when I had just become a new father with the sweetest, most gorgeous little baby who did not sleep. Alma wasn’t a fussy baby though. For some reason, she just wouldn’t go back to sleep after her midnight feed for months. Believe me, I tried everything. I changed her nappy, I swayed and jiggled and rocked and sung her to sleep. Odd nonsensical songs like, ‘Alma darling go to sleeep. Sleepy sleep sleep. Pleeeeease. I’m so tirrrred. My eyeballs may actually exploooode. I don’t want you to see thaaat.’ And she would just look at me all wide-eyed like I’d lost the plot. Those were song lyrics? That was rubbish. Please don’t give up your day job. Also, it’s not sleeping time. I’m awake. I’m ready for life. Come on, entertain me, old man. Isn’t this nice, just you and me? Tell me everything you know. EVERYTHING.

Except of course she didn’t say all that. She would just stare at me and I had no idea what was going on in her little head.

I took over my wife’s patients at the hospital during her maternity leave, so I had longer hours at the hospital. One day Rhonda found me napping on the floor between surgeries, so she sweet-talked some porters into looking for any old sofas on the go and paid to have this one reupholstered. She even bought me a fleece throw for it too. We really don’t deserve her.

“You hittin’ on me?” She deadpans. “Yer wife not doing it for you these days?”

“It’s the blazer. I’m a sucker for a blazer.”

“If I’d known, I would’ve worn it more often,” she replies. “Did my nice dress yesterday not give you the fanny flutters?”

“It’s schlong shiver for me,” I roar with laughter. “And it’s the tartan, makes you look well old.”

“YN, yer husband’s a bloody git, did I ever tell you that?” Rhonda says loud enough for my wife to hear, and I can hear my wife’s laughter from her office next door. “Drink your tea. Your first clinic appointment is in twenty.”

“Yes ma’am,” I salute her.

***

The Arctic ward in the Evelina is home to many of our imaging, heart and kidney services. The name is probably giving it away, but everything is decorated in blue and white to go with the theme. We have several zones, and since paediatric cardiology clinics are held in the Walrus zone, I spend a great deal of time each day looking at walrus and snowflake decals.

“Doctor Styles!” I hear a little voice shouts in excitement as I walk towards the waiting room in the outpatient ward. I smile, because I recognise that voice even before I see the little person.

The waiting room is very open here compared to other hospitals. There’s a sea of noise, snacks, tiny juice boxes and colouring pages. There’s also always a look of expectation, judgement on the faces of parents and guardians every time I walk in. They want to see if their doctor is old or qualified enough to see their children. There’s always one child who has the whole gang with them; parents, two sets of grandparents and even several aunts and uncles, and there’s also at least one child running around in circles out of boredom.

This little lad bounces off his chair and hurls himself at me in a way like a little puppy would when its owner comes home from work. I put an arm out, hoping that he’ll apply the brakes but no such luck and he bundles himself into my arms. “Nice to see you, mate.”

His parents smile as they watch their son’s antics, who then runs off as I shake their hands. I turn around to see what caught his attention, and I can’t help but chuckle when I realise it’s my wife.

“Doctor pretty Styles!” He exclaims excitedly as he bundles himself into her arms. She gets a mouthful of curls in the process.

“Hi Rory,” she greets him as she runs her fingers through his curly mop.

“Oi,” I pout as I walk towards them. “You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“Your wife is prettier,” he says with a shrug, his tone matter-of-fact.

She laughs and gives him a high-five. “Rory, you are officially my favourite patient.”

She is right. Rory is one of our special patients for sure. We’ve both known him for about six years now, ever since Rory’s mum gave birth to this tiny human next door at St Thomas and his heart was literally broken. I remember watching proudly from the theatre when my wife replaced two of his valves when he was born. It was in our early years of training. Long time patients like Rory almost always feel like family. We’ve seen all their parents’ tears and watched over their children throughout the years. They send us cards and wine every Christmas and despite all attempts to keep a professional distance, their kids do feel like our own.

Rory shrugs off his dinosaur rucksack and unzips it, pulling out a drawing of a blue whale and an opened packet of KitKat. I like that the whale wears a top hat and appears to also don a moustache.

“I drew you both a picture. Only one though, because I figure you can share,” he says with a big toothy grin and hands the packet of KitKat to my wife. “And I’ve got half a KitKat here. Do you want it?”

“I’m good for now. Keep that KitKat for later on the tube,” she smiles and waves at Rory as she begins to walk away towards the fetal cardiology ward just down the hall. “Bye Rory, thanks for the picture.”

“Bye doctor pretty Styles,” Rory replies, making my wife laugh as she walks away. I give her a wave and a wink.

“Hey Rory, did you know a blue whale has a heart the size of a small car?” I ask him and his eyes widen.

“No way! That’s mega!” He exclaims. “Do you think you could operate on a whale heart?”

“I would need a very big ladder,” I tell him. “And a wetsuit. I’d give it a go though.”

A senior nurse from the outpatient ward, Florence approaches us with a junior nurse trailing behind her. “Dr Styles, always a pleasure.”

I smile at her. “Florence. How are we today?”

“Busy as usual,” she replies. “We’re about twenty minutes behind I’m afraid. We had Dr Goodridge in this morning and you know he likes to talk.”

“He always runs over,” I chuckle. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll skip lunch and get us back up to speed.”

“I’ll make sure to send some snacks for you. Here’s your chart, your files are already in your office. And this is Alice, your nurse today. She’s newly qualified so might need some instructions.”

The new nurse looks terrified so I smile at her to try and calm her fears. I totally get that. When you work in medicine, unfortunately, you’ll realise that there are a lot of rude self-important wankers.

I look down at my chart and find Rory’s name on the top of the list. “Well, look who’s coming with me to the exam room.”

Rory reaches out to hold my hand and we walk towards the examination room. His parents follow us closely, carrying the usual coats and devices that people do when they know they’re bound for a hospital waiting room. I see them inside and sit behind the desk.

“So, young man, I hear we’ve had a touch of drama with you. Can you tell me what happened?”

I’ve actually already got the information in the file, but I like the way this kid tells a story. He reminds me of my youngest.

“So… I was at school and we were doing PE and I wasn’t really feeling it because it was cold and really we should have been inside but Mr Witter makes us go outside because he used to be in the Army apparently and he says we should get used to the cold but that’s what they do in prisons.”

I smile. “Go on.”

“And then my heart started running.”

“You mean racing?”

He nods firmly. Racing isn’t even the word. It sprinted to the finish like Bolt at 252 beats per minute, three times the speed it should.

“It felt like bubbles in my chest and then the school went crazy panicky and they called the ambulance and they brought me to the hospital but not this one, it was another one and it wasn’t as good because you weren’t there and they had really bad biscuit.”

His mum adds. “And they gave him some drugs to bring it back to a steady rhythm; they were close to shocking him.” Her voice trails off and both parents’ faces look drawn and pale remembering the incident.

Rory looks absolutely unbothered by this. To be fair, we have put this little man through everything. We’ve cut his chest open more times than is necessary for someone so small, we hook him up to machines and put him on treadmills. His resilience and character amaze me, and I really can’t imagine what it feels like to see your child so vulnerable and helpless, to be paralysed and weighed down with such worry.

“Alright then, little man, we need to make sure that your heart is working as it should. This is Alice, and she is going to take you over for an ECG and we just need to make sure your tick-tock is in good shape.”

Rory nods and jumps off the chair. His dad offers him a piggyback, and his mum smiles at them. I can hear Rory offering that half KitKat to Alice as they leave the room.

His mother turns to me as the door is closed, her shoulders relaxing, allowing herself to breathe. “And how are you?” I ask her.

“You just think it’s done and then something like that comes along to scare you,” she says with a sigh.

“Let’s have these tests and then see if it’s anything major to worry about,” I try to calm her. “Episodes of rapid heartbeat is quite common in Rory’s case, and we can look into drugs to remedy that if necessary.”

She smiles, nodding.

“Did you have any other questions for me?”

She studies my face for a moment too long. “I… well, it will show up in Rory’s records soon, but my husband I are… I mean we’re getting a divorce.”

I pause for a moment. Of course, I know these things happen in life, but I’ve known this couple for years. I’ve seen them at their lowest ebb, bound by friendship and their love for that boy. I really do feel sorry for them.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I mumble.

“We just… we’re terrified about telling Rory.”

“He doesn’t know?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “We’re scared of breaking him. I mean, look at him. All of this stuff he’s been through and he carries on like nothing has happened. We don’t want to upset him.”

“It took a team of us the best part of six years to build Rory’s heart. There's a warranty on that workmanship,” I reassure her. “Have that chat with him. He’ll be fine.”

***

“Have we got time for dinner first?” I turn to my wife as we walk out of the hospital. We don’t normally have the luxury of ending our shift at the same time, but today is exceptional. We have parents’ evening at the girls’ school so Rhonda made sure to clear up our schedule after our evening rounds at the ward.

“No, but we can raid M&S and eat in the car?”

I’m starving and I almost cry with relief at the suggestion. “Always knew I married the right woman.”

She chuckles. “Damn right you did.”

We leave the car at the hospital and she drags me along the walkways to Waterloo, the breeze biting at our cheeks. I pull her into M&S, dodging the marching commuters and grab a basket.

“I’ll look for some wine,” she says before she saunters off. “Oh and I want sushi. None of that crap with the mayonnaise please.”

“Alright.”

I skipped lunch today so the whole place calls to me. I start taking very random things off the shelves: a packet of raspberry iced buns. That’ll do. I also take some hummus for my wife because she bloody loves hummus. I’m not even joking, I’ve seen her down a whole pot of it. Then I take some sushi as requested, some coleslaw, a family bag of mature cheddar and red onion crisps and a trifle. I hope I don’t bump into Rhonda. Next are cheese twists, noodle salad and cocktail sausages.

It takes me a while to notice that there is a man right next to me with a roll of yellow stickers in their back pocket. Hello there, you are one of my favourite people tonight. Have I managed to find that sacred hour when all the food is being marked down? He labels some prawns with dip and even though I get a little squeamish about eating fish near its expiry date, I put it in my basket. I then follow him around the corner. Now, this is dinner. I put all sorts of random food in my basket and smile at the thought.

Ooh, knockdown pizzas. I should get a pizza. That’s tomorrow’s tea sorted, the girls will love it. Although I can’t help but wonder, what’s the limit for us to feed our daughters frozen pizza in a week before they get taken away from us? But eh, we might be able to get away with it if we give them frozen peas on the side.

“Look at you,” says my wife, depositing two bottles of red in the basket.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m the yellow sticker bitch.”

She snickers as we turn to head for the tills. “Excellent work.”

***

“Mr and Mrs Styles, welcome.”

“Mrs Ebner, always a pleasure,” I shake the headmistress’ hand who’s standing at the door.

“Busy evening?” My wife asks her as she shakes her hand next.

“Always,” the headmistress replies with a smile, then proceeds to speak like she’s reading out of brochures. “But such a wonderful opportunity to connect with our parents and build on the special relationships we have with our school community.”

Two uniformed minions appear.

“Lewis, Maggie, could you please show Mr and Mrs Styles through to the drinks reception?”

They both nod in unison. The boy holds his arms out like a waiter showing us to our table. We follow them through the school’s grand corridors to the main hall. It’s the one thing I like about this place. It’s very Hogwarts-like with hefty engraved name boards and sepia photos of successful sports teams. In the hall, a throng of parents mill around waiting to see respective teachers. It’s the same every year. We all dodge the people from the PTA trying to sell us quiz tickets, and the bowls of crisps out of hygiene concerns.

“Red or white?” Asks a lady in an apron.

This right here is the very reason we get through parents’ evening. From the look of the bottle, it’s decent wine too. I think that’s where a good proportion of our fees is going.

“Red, please.”

We both take our glasses and walk to the corner of the hall. It’s essentially a holding area without the background music. The idea is that all the parents will get on and create a party vibe but it just becomes a strange family gathering. As terrible as it sounds, it’s sorted into cliques: parents who know each other via NCT groups, the international expat brigades who keep to themselves, the parents who’ve ostracised themselves by gossip, the ones who you know regularly brunch and ski together.

The boy from earlier suddenly appears in front of us. “Mrs Hughes is ready for you.”

I put my hand on the small of my wife’s back as we walk towards the classroom. Fiona’s teacher first and then Alma’s straight after. Right, we can do this.

“Mrs Hughes, we meet again,” I shake her hand. I’ve got no qualms about Mrs Hughes. She’s a seasoned teacher who likes a slack and sensible moccasin and we’re familiar with her since she taught Alma two years previously. When we enter the classroom, Lewis bows in reverence, taking his leave and I wonder whether to tip him.

“It’s always lovely to have another Styles girl in my classroom. Fiona is a particular delight.”

My wife and I smile proudly. I’m sure Mrs Hughes says this to every parent here about their child, but that’s always nice to hear.

“She talks a lot about you,” my wife says. “She seems to have settled in well.”

Mrs Hughes opens up a couple of books and it’s classic Fiona. Alma is ordered and neat—if she makes a mistake then she erases it completely and she underlines things with a ruler and listens to instruction carefully. She gets that from her mum. Fiona though, on the other hand, she’s all me. She has more wild abandon about her; no rulers, no rubbers. She puts giant crosses through things that don’t work and likes her bubble writing decorated with doodles of many, many cats.

I glance around the classroom as Mrs Hughes talks to us about standardised scores. The theme of the school is to show you how smart and educated these children are. Look at the copperplate handwriting, their reproductions of Van Gogh and our languages corner where they’ve all had a go at telling us what they like in French. I spy a contribution from my girl. J’adore les chats et le gâteau au chocolat.

I’ve lost track of the conversation so I try to catch up.

“So to push Fiona into those top scores, perhaps we can look into tutoring? For maths, in particular, so she can grasp some of the concepts a little more tightly,” says Mrs Hughes.

My wife and I look at each other confused. “Uh, I don’t think there’s a need, right? She’s only five.”

“It’s never too early,” replies Mrs Hughes. “We run an after-school tutoring club on Tuesdays that would help.”

Back when I was a youngster, clubs were fun endeavours that involved matching baseballs caps or were a chocolate biscuit that you had in your lunchbox. Maths tutoring session was not a club.

I ask her. “Is it free?”

“It’s fifteen pounds per session.”

See? My point being this should be a parents’ evening, not a sales session.

“Well, then it’s something to think about,” says my wife. “It could be that Fiona catches up with people throughout the year.”

“Possibly,” Mrs Hughes nods. Still, though, she proceeds to go into her folder and passes me a form. Sneaky. “Fiona has also shown great interest in languages and art. Her pictures have been a joy.”

Mrs Hughes goes to a file and pulls one of Fiona’s drawings. I glance down at it. It’s a standard child piece of art. The grass and sky are strips of colour to the top and bottom. It’s a family portrait, and we are as tall as the broccoli style trees. Wait, hang on a second. I count the number of people in the picture again. Is that-

“And Mrs Styles, I gather congratulations are in order,” she says with a smile. “Such lovely news.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Fiona told me it’s a boy,” she adds, and the sheer terror on my wife’s face at the realisation is priceless. “You must be very thrilled.”

I study the picture. There’s a house in the middle, and standing in a line in front of the house is our family. The one slightly taller than the broccoli tree is me. I’ve got my white lab coat, and I look like a serial killer because I’m holding a scalpel with the size of a butcher’s knife. Next to me is my wife, also with a white lab coat, but instead of a scalpel, she’s holding a very chunky baby who rather looks like a basketball with a head.

“Oh dear,” I chuckle. “Guess now we know what she’ll ask for Christmas.”

“Yeah,” my wife shakes her head. “We’re not expecting.”

“Oh, I apologise,” Mrs Hughes says with a sheepish smile.

“No worries, Mrs Hughes,” I tell her. “So, what else has our girl been up to here? Besides gossiping of course.”

Mrs Hughes laughs under her breath. “Well, in class, Fiona is attentive, bright and very helpful. She is a credit to you both.”

***

“I swear your daughter, Styles.”

We’re sitting in the car now. Finally done with parents’ evening, still laughing at the slightly creepy, chunky basketball baby in Fiona’s picture and the fact that three people, including Mrs Hughes, have congratulated us for the ‘baby’.

“You haven’t called me Styles in years,“ I turn to her with a grin. “Not since medical school.”

I can’t help but flashback to the good ol’ days when we had matching university hoodies and we’d test each other on the parts of a kidney whilst walking into lectures, sitting next to each other, sharing pens and cans of Lilt.

“Well, after that I became a Styles too,” she chuckles. “Would be confusing then, wouldn’t it?”

“True,” I laugh under my breath, then I grab her hand and pull it to my mouth so I can kiss her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For being a Styles.”

“Aw, aren’t we soppy tonight?” She smirks. “Alright, stop the car.”

“What?”

“There,” she points to a dark empty spot and I oblige.

Then, before I can even ask her why, she reaches over and grabs me by the collar. Pulling me close to her and gives me a kiss. I kiss her back, and I smile when she bites gently on my bottom lip.

“Oi, oi. Something’s got you randy.”

The next thing I know, she undoes her seatbelt and then rolls her trousers down her legs along with her knickers, fumbling and giggling at the awkward movement. I push my seat back and pull my trousers down.

“Don’t fall on gearstick now,” I joke as she climbs over to straddle me. “Well, unless you want to, of course…”

She laughs as she lowers herself over my lap. I really can’t believe what’s happening here.

“Mrs Styles, we’re about to have sex in a car. Around the corner from our daughters’ school.”

“I know,” she says with a smile before she runs her tongue along my neck. “Not our first rodeo though.”

“Oh right, we did it in our Volvo years ago, didn’t we? Thought the suspension couldn’t take it.”

“And it turned out fine. Told you that you needed to have more faith in the Swedes, they’re a reliable breed.”

“I love it when you talk about Sweden.”

“Ikea.”

“Fuck.”

“Meatballs.”

“Billy Bookcase.”

She throws her head back in laughter and I take this as an opportunity to run my tongue along her collar bone. She gasps. I reach down to lift her before I slowly lower her over my cock. We both sigh as I enter her, a long exhalation with our lips barely touching.

“Viggo Mortensen.”

“Isn’t he Danish?”

“Tomato, Tomahto.”

I smile at my wife and push my hips up, silently telling her that we don’t need to talk about Swedish people anymore. She grabs onto the car seat and levers herself up and down. I look at her in the eye, a goofy smile still plastered across my face.

But then I squint. Light. Bollocks, what’s that? Where’s that light coming from? Crap, that’s bright. Shit. I see the flash of a hi-vis jacket, a knock at the window and someone shaking their head.

Oh sodding fucking bollocking shit wank.

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fics #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #dad!harry #husband!harry #doctor!harry #surgeon!harry

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jiminzfilter · 3 years ago

Text

slow dancing in the night

→ Pairing. Taehyung x reader

→ Genre. established relationship, fluff, slice of life, model!taehyung, model!reader, taehyung missed you a lot, he is starving (his words not mine), gets a bit hot by the last 40 lines, mentions of oral (f) so I guess this counts as mature content, implied smut, making out (kinda), there is a bit of swearing

→ Summary. what could possibly be better than coming home after a long day of work to someone you love and missed a lot ?

→ Word count. 3.2k (!!!)

→ because I wrote this over a year ago when I still didn't know what I was doing with my writing, I had to go through a deep process of editing and re-writing before posting it. This might not be my best work but it's still a fic that I really really like :,)

→ song rec. slow dancing in the dark, Joji// still with you, Jungkook

Fridays have always been exhausting days for both you and your boyfriend, especially on runways weeks. As models, you were put under a lot of pressure.

Pressure to be perfect, to smile but never smile too much, to look good, to not fall on stage.

Falling has to be the most tragic thing that can happen to your carreer as a model, the hungry stares of thousands of photographers and reporters ready to share the latest news to the press.

Yeah, it was exhausting.

This week was no exception... or maybe it was since, this time, you were the only one working until late.

It’s four in the morning and you’re already on your way out - kind of running late, oBviOusLy - quietly wishing your boyfriend a good day.

He is not working today.

That lucky bastard.

He gets to enjoy his free day in bed, lazing around, while you work your ass off all day. He mumbles something that you assume is a sort of goodbye. He is still asleep.

You look at him one last time before leaving the room and smile. He looks so peaceful.

You still remember the day you met, by pure luck even though you both call that fate. That was 5 years ago, when you just debuted your career as a model and were not that comfortable around high heels.

Okay no. Let’s be real.

You hated wearing them because you couldn’t walk in heels higher than 5 cm.

It’s still a wonder how you managed to make it in the first place.

Were you wearing flat shoes for the audition ? Damn you really must’ve done an impression on the judges if they made you pass without the heels try-on.

Your first day at the agency was chaotic to say the least. Your manager made you walk around the building, to visit she said. She made you wear heels. HEELS. That devilish person.

But, thank to that, you got to meet Taehyung. Your eyes landed on him as you were visiting the lounge and couldn’t tear them away from his figure. The poor man had to witness you fall down because you weren’t watching your steps anymore.

I mean.

Who could blame you ??

That was Kim frEaking Taehyung

!!!

He even came to help you get back on your feet and asked if you were alright, kind of amused.

It’s not everyday you see someone falling down in here, let alone a newbie

Let’s be honest, you were so embarrassed.

First day of work and you’re already failing falling.

That night when you came home, you spent the night wearing heels and prayed really hard you’d never have to face him again. After all, the building was big enough and there were enough workers that you could avoid Taehyung easily

If only

The NeXt day, you were told that you had a couple shooting, with none other that Kim Taehyung.

GreaT

He would occasionally tease you about your fall and check on you to see if everything was alright. He watched you carefully as you were walking around with heels.

From up close he looked even more handsome.... :)

After this day, you started talking with Taehyung more and more. He introduced you to everyone around the agency. You met outside of work, got to know each other. You both became regally good friends but there was something lingering in the air, in the way you’d look at each other or stood so close to him after a couple glasses of wine that you could breathe his air.

So what was bound to happen happened and you went from friends a to lovers without really noticing it.

He was still your best friend...somehow

Eventually, you took things to the next level and moved in together... maybe a half and a year ago or so ? You’ve never been happier in your life

And, well, you’d actually be happier if you could spend the day with boyfriend instead of running around trying to find god knows which accessories you need for the rehearsal.

8 in the morning is noT a time to be doing cardio.

Especially while wearing heels

Become a model they said, it’ll be fun they said

“Y/n! Come here please I need you to try on this dress before you go!” Your personal stylist calls “I made sure to fix it yesterday so it’d be a perfect fit for the show”

You stop your tracks and go to her “make this quick i have to go get changed before 9 otherwise I’m screwed. Why did they even decide to do the rehearsals so early today ?” You sigh, frustrated, and put on the dress she’s handing you “thank you”

“Okayyy...it looks great. Gold looks amazing on you.” She smoothes the dress and gives an approving nod, visibly satisfied ; “You’ll look perfect for the Grand Finale. Oh god it’s already 8:30 you better go before Mr.Kim throws a fit because you’re late”

You both giggle ; “thank you for fixing the dress Naeun, see you later today. Well, probably tonight. Byeeee”

The rehearsal seems to never end. You’re squeezed in dozens of different outfits, gorgeous for sure but sO tight. Mr. Kim, the one who organised the runway, is such a perfectionist that you have to re-do some things multiple times before he’s satisfied. One time the lighting isn’t right, the other the models are walking too fast, not on beat and so on.

Everyone hates him for that but he always makes the best shows so you just follow.

After multiple tries, the rehearsal finally comes to an end. It’s already 4PM. You barely get time to breathe and go pee before you’re back into the ‘running-around-to-find-my-dress-and-fix-my-makeup-oh-god-i-gotta-be-on-stage’ crazy mess.

Walking on the runway feels amazing, running backstage is terrible.

It’s so hot and small back there you can hardly move around well.

It takes 2 hours for the whole fashion show to be over, one more for pictures outside the catwalk and chat with reporters. Since you’re kind of a famous model now, you get invited to the afterparty and spend few extra hours interacting with some celebrities that attended the show. Other models were invited and you’re happy to see familiar faces amongst them. Jimin, an old colleague and friend of yours, comes your way and compliments you. You chat with him for a while before deciding you’ve had enough for the day and leave the party. A few more people greet you on your way out.

A taxi takes you back to you company, where you left your stuff in the morning. You spend an extra thirty minutes getting rid of your heavy makeup and striping off that gorgeous but awfully tight golden dress you’ve been wearing ever since the end of the runway.

Now, you can FinaLLy go home. yassssss

It’s almost 12am when you leave the agency and climb into yet another taxi. The ride is quiet, background music playing over the car’s radio, and you take some time to look at what you were gifted for your performance : fancy makeup products, accessories, pieces of clothing-but not those from the runway, you sadly never get to keep those. Being kinda famous has its perks :,)

You then decide it’s time to warn Taehyung you’ll arrive soon and send him a few texts. As if he was waiting for them, he instantly replies saying he’ll be waiting for you and proceeds to spam you with heart emojis. Sometimes, it looks like this man just discovered what emojis were and is trying to use them as much as possible. What a child…

It’s way past midnight when you finally step into your duplex and the first thing you notice is that the place is way too quiet.

Maybe Tae went back to sleep, who knows, it’s super late after all…

You remove shoes and jacket and drop your bags in the entrance before going further and you call out quietly “anyone here? Tae, you sleeping?”

There is a faint glow from the tv on your right but the sound has been muted.

Weird…

“Taehyung ?" You call one last time

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. You gasp, almost scream, but soften up when you feel the warmth on your back

“Hi baby” a deep voice says in your ear, sending chills down your spine “I missed you”

You turn around and are very pleased to see a handsome face and a warm exposed chest your boyfriend smiling at you.

“Mhm, missed you too” You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, happy to hear his heartbeat. Taehyung places his head atop of yours and gently strokes your hair. You tighten your grasp around him and hum.

Few seconds later, he lifts your chin up and gently lays a kiss on your lips.

“How are you doing?” He asks, his right hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of it is comforting.

“Exhausted, but you know how it goes” You shrug and he smiles

“Not too tired for dinner ? I could cook something if you want”

“Mhm... let me just go shower and put something else on” You sadly let go of him

“Sure, go ahead” he whispers and you give him a kiss before regretfully tearing yourself away from him.

You walk up the stairs to your bedroom, where you find the bed undone. You smile, Taehyung never really liked making the bed and, very honestly, neither did you. You slump onto the mattress and bury your face into the pillows, inhaling his scent. Lavender. Relaxing. Just like he is.

After a warm shower, you find a t-shirt Taehyung left on a chair in the room and wear it. It’s big enough to reach your thighs and, if you were more energised, you’d probably stay like this. You grab large pants and put them on.

Once again, you smell lavender all around you.

When you’re back in the living area, you see Taehyung busying himself in the kitchen. He hears your steps and his eyes find yours as a smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re wearing his shirt

“My shirt looks better on you than it’d ever do on me” He teases, his gaze longing on your frame.

“maybe I should keep it then” you smile and ask ; ”Do you need any help?”

“no no no no no, you’ve worked enough already. Go and have some rest. I'll call you when everything’s ready okay?”

Too tired to argue on this anyways -and thankful for the given rest-, you go lay down on the couch, your body oriented to let you look at Taehyung.

As he hums and moves to the chill music that was playing in the background, you start to detail his beautiful figure. From the curl of his dark hair (which you knoW are so so soft to the touch) to his beautiful profile and his nose you love so much down to his broad shoulder and then his tanned abs you see from time to time when the opened shirt of his pyjama moves according to his steps.

oH! Let’s not forget his perfect hands gripping at the pan’s handle while he cooks… vegetables? Something like that yeah.

Taehyung is giving his best into what he’s cooking. Vegetables with rice, that’s the only thing he could do quickly.

Quickly as in less than half an hour, unlike his friend Namjoon who’d take this time just to cook the rice.

The music he put earlier is slowly starting to bore him. After washing his hands, he reaches out for his phone and plays a different playlist. It’s one you name yourself when the two of you were still friends (aka not dating yet). “Taetae fm” because you once joked he should have his own broadcasting channel on the radio. He’d always criticise the music playing so why not have his own channel 👀

“You know Y/n, I actually watched the fashion show live this afternoon. I mean, of course you know because I always do that haha. Anyways, you really were the highlight of the runway tonight. And I’m not saying this in a biased point of view. Okay I might be a bit biased as your boyfriend but I swear that it’s true!! You literally shone back there, especially in that gold dress you were wearing and even the audience was impressed by your looks maybe you didn’t see it on stage but some cameras filmed their reactions and everyone was looking at you. Really, you were so gorge-oh” Taehyung looks at you and smile fondly “Of course you’re asleep, baby”

He lets his phone aside and checks the now cooked food before making his way to the couch. There’s a blanket on the sofa, he covers you with it, scared you might get cold. Taehyung put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your chin.

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself face to face with him. You both smile.

“Hi there beautiful” He whispers

“what time is it? Did I sleep until the morning?” You’re scared of having slept through the entire nap without realising

“almost 1:20am, I just finished cooking. I thought you might be cold so I went to cover you with the blanket. You should go enjoy the food while it’s still hot, imma go to the toilet”

You nod as an answer and watch him leave upstairs. Getting up from the warmth of the couch is the hardest part so you keep the soft blanket draped around your shoulders and walk towards the kitchen. You grab two bowls and two pairs of chopsticks that you place on the counter along with glasses and a bottle of water.

You then go take care of the rice and the vegetables, which you mix in the pan. The song playing changes and your favourite nighttime tune starts.

“I don’t want a friend, I want my life in two” you sing along

“Waiting to get there, waiting for you” Taehyung’s voice startles you as he grabs your wrists and pulls your back close to him. You smile as he makes the both of you dance slowly. You put his arms around you so it’s like he’s hugging you from the back. You swing around for a little while, enjoying the close proximity as you both softly hum the song, making your body vibrate against each other, moving in perfect coordination.

“I love you” he whispers in your ear and then kisses it, sending chills down your spine, before lifting one of your arm up to make you turn so that you’re now facing him “did my baby sleep well?” You nod as you place your arms around his waist, paying attention to go under the shirt so you’re touching as much skin as possible.

Taehyung chuckles before asking you in that same, chill-sending, low deep voice ; “Still hungry? Because I’m starving”

If you didn’t just wake up, you would’ve definitely caught that lust in his eyes and also the fact that this wasn’t as innocent as it seemed.

As an answer, your stomach growls pretty loudly, making Taehyung laugh . “I’ll take that as a yes. Sit down, princess. Let me take care of you”

You do as he says, jumping on a stool, detailing all of his moves. You only realise how hungry you actually were when you start eating. Rice with vegetables has never tastes better. You eat everything in less than 5 minutes when you’d usually take your time to finish your plate.

“Damn, that was a well needed dinner! Thank you Tae” you mess a bit with his soft locks

“Imagine me who was waiting for you all evening!! I was hungry too” He pouts.

“Oh come on, I was working today. Cardio in heels isn’t the best way to wake up, let alone spend the whole day standing in tight clothes. When I think you has a day off… pfff. I saw the bed, I’m sure you stayed there all day, you lazyyyyyyyyy ass.”

He mumbles some gibberish and you giggle, knowing that you're right. He looks away, crossing his arms and obviously sulking. You leave your stool and stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a few kisses on his cheek and neck

“- Don’t be such a babyy. You know I love you.

- You do?

- of course, you dummy” you bop his nose "Sooo, what do we have for desert?

- You. Uh I mean!! Yoghurt, fruits, cakes, fruits…anything” he clears his throat

“Great! What do you prefer?” You open the fridge

“ I’d very happily eat you out honestly but an apple sounds good”

“Oh sur- wait whaT!?” You snap your head to him, eyes wide open

what did he sayyyyyyyy?????

whaT am I even supposed to say noW oh my goddddd

You close the fridge’s door, suddenly not so yogurt-hungry.

There’s a sudden silence between the two of you, only disturbed by the music still playing in the background.

“Mhm? What is it?” He turns around to face you, asking so innocently “did I say something wrong ?”

This man knows what he is doing for sure. Has he ever been that straightforward before ?

Taehyung stands and closes the distance between your bodies, now towering over you.

He lowers himself slightly to speak in your ear “what is it baby? Mhm?” You feel his smile on your cheek when he lays a kiss on it “what happened to my all proud and fierce y/n who was so confident telling me I was being lazy all day, huh? Tell me” He lays another kiss on your temple

OkaY

now he’s being a tease

Great

1 A.M. fluffy and bare chested teaser Taehyung

gReAT

Anyhow, it’s a good turn on.

Really.good.freaking.turn.on

Being tired and turned on was definitely not a good mix for you. You could feel the heat rising in your body and hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Tae…”

He laughs gently seeing you silently begging for more, brushing your face with his lips, teasing another kiss.

“Tsk tsk, you gotta speak darling, I cannot guess”

You should calm down and go to sleep, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow you should definitely-

“Fuck-“ You sigh and grab his face, sealing your lips together while closing your eyes.

It doesn’t take long for that kiss to turn into a heated make out session.

You grab and pull some of his dark curls while his hands travels under his your shirt.

You break the kiss just a second to catch your breath.

“Have i ever told you you have the perfect body?” Taehyung asks

“Did I ever tell you how perfect you are??” You reply

He laughs, deep raspy laugh.

You’re too tired for this

And because you’re tired, you’re even more horny :D

Taehyung puts his hands behind your thighs and you jump, locking your legs around his waist, hands still in his hair, lips against his while carries you to the bedroom.

He leaves your lips to travel down your jaw and then collarbone. You throw your head back.

Taehyung gently lays you on the mattress of your king sized bed and makes it his personal mission to pleasure you tonight.

#taehyung fics #taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung au #taehyung fluff #bts fanfic #taehyung #taehyung ff #fluff #implied smut #model taehyung #bts fics #taehyung oneshot #taehyung one shots #taehyung one-shots #taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung au #it's 2am what am I doing #slow dancing in the night

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 years ago

Text

Healing Hearts

Summary: Jack had lost everything he ever loved in the last months. But Eve had always there for him. What happens if a mistake they both made would change everything

Pairing: Jack Whiskey Daniels x OFC (Eve)

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: kinda AU, angst, mentions of infedelity, mentions of misscariage, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of dead family

A/N: Whew okay. I wrote this more than a year ago on a very dark day with someone completely different in mind. And for some reason I picked it up close to Christmas again and I thought this was made for Whiskey. I hope you like it. It's one of the fics i'm most proud of ever since i started.

The complete silence that seemed to welcome her everytime she walks into his house, was what made Eve feel a weird kind of safe as she silently closed the door behind her.

The key he had given her lay cold and heavy in her palm as she slowly walked into his house.

It seemed like she stepped into another dimension. As if she was far away from every living creature, as if there wasn’t a single person left on this planet. She always enjoyed the silence. Ever since she was a child. She chose the silence over the noise. Something no one seemed to understand.

Breathing in deeply she walked up the familiar stairs of his beautiful home. People had been happy here once. She knew they were. She was one of the lucky ones, a trusted friend who had been invited in the inner circle of Jack and Aubrey. Jack and his wife. A close friend who was there for every single step of the way.

There were pictures missing on the walls that had been there the last time she had been here. Months ago. It felt like a lifetime ago. He had called her and only whispered the words “She’s gone too.” before the call disconnected. Never in her life had she ignored so many red lights and stop signs as back there when she rushed over to his place. He had broken down in her arms that night. Again.

He had felt so small in her arms. Not like the big and confident man he usually was. Not one word had been spoken on the day she had spent with him until she had to leave. Back to her life. Her job. Her husband.

Jack and Eve had been friends all her life. A long time ago they could have been more but she had been too scared to acknowledge the big elephant in the room.

That she was hopelessly in love with Jack Daniels. The boy who had taught her how to ride a horse. The boy she had spent so much time with growing up, people joked they had been separated at birth.

She wanted to keep him in her life. But she wasn’t ready to give him what he wanted.

Not until that one night. The night that her friends, Jack and Aubrey, had decided that it was for the better to break up. To go separate ways because it hurt too much to look at one another after losing the boy they were so excited to meet halfway through the pregnancy.

She had heard on the phone that he had been drinking. Shaking her head, ignoring the memories of his lips on her skin, she slowly opened the door to his bedroom. He was lying on the ground with his back facing her. He was looking out of the floor length window, the sunset diving the almost completely white room into a soft orange light.

“You’ve ignored my calls…” He said without turning around. She remained standing in the door, longing for him and at the same time wanting to be anywhere but here. Close to him. Because it seemed like she hasn’t been able to gather a thought that didn’t involve him ever since that night.

“I have.” She finally said.

“I needed you.”

“I know.”

“Everyone I love seems to be leaving me…” he sighed quietly, the words breaking her heart.

“Jack…”

“I know what we did was wrong. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. It’s like…” he finally turned around, sitting himself up, but still not looking at her.

“It’s like we both longed for something no one else could give us.”

“But I’m married," Eve said.

“I know,” he sighed, finally looking up at her. He looked pale, like he hadn’t left the house in weeks. Yet his brown eyes, the eyes she fell in love with all these years ago, stared at her with so much admiration, she had to break his stare.

“Why are you here now?” he asked, slowly standing up to his full size. He was wearing dark sweatpants and a gray shirt, still wrinkled. He probably hadn’t changed since he woke up this morning. His hair was growing longer and she found herself thinking that she loved it that way. There was more than a stubble growing on his face, his signature mustache gone, making him seem more masculine.

He made no intentions of walking over to her. And she didn’t know if she wanted to be closer to him for the words she was about to say.

For weeks she had repeated the words she was about to say to him in her head. She would have needed a friend to talk to, yet the only friend who she would seek out in a situation like this would have been him.

She had no idea how to tell him. She had no idea how he would react.

Would he be happy?

Would he be sad?

Would he feel as guilty as she did?

How on earth was she supposed to tell him?

A little smile sneaked to his face as he took her in. She looked good. Her long wavy hair seemed to be brighter, maybe she had been to the hairdresser lately. It seemed like she was glowing, yet her eyes seemed to hold a sadness in them.

“Is everything okay Eve?” he asked, finally walking towards her, concern in his voice.

He saw her swallow before she nodded.

“I’m okay. I’m scared that you will hate me for what I’m about to say.” She finally said.

Jack frowned, shaking his head. Hate her? He could never do that. Once a long time ago he even thought that there could be more between them but she never seemed to be interested. But still, he couldn’t get her whimpers from the morning they never talked about out of his head.

The way her skin had felt against his as they both gave in, in the heat of the moment, both wanting to feel something.

“I could never hate you. You’re my best friend,” he managed to smile. Smiling was something Jack seemed to rarely do in the last months. He had no reason to.

He stopped in front of her, seeing the tears in her eyes that she was too proud to shed. Out of reflex his hand touched her cheek, trying to comfort her.

“Jack.. I’m…. Oh god I can’t even get the words out,” she shook her head.

“Is everything okay with Kev?” he asked. He had never liked him, yet tolerated him because he seemed to make Eve happy. She shook her head.

“Kev moved out last week. We’ve… we decided it’s better to go separate ways,” she whispered.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have been there for you, I…”

“Jack,” she interrupted him, shaking her head. He saw her breathe in deeply before she reached for his other hand. He noticed the lack of her wedding band on her finger as she slowly brought the palm of his hand closer to her body. He didn’t look away from her eyes, who seemed to swim in an ocean of unshed tears. When she pressed his palm on her stomach he didn’t notice anything at first. Yet when he finally broke the gaze and looked down in between them he could see the swell of her stomach. It seemed like his heart stopped beating for seconds, trying to process what she was trying to tell him. Blinking as she looked up at him, his mouth parted in surprise. Finally the tears escaped her eyes.

“5 months,” she whispered, her lips trembling.

“5 months?” he repeated slowly. It had been 5 months since…

Alarmed he looked at her, taking a step back, his hands on the back of his head.

“I’m so… so sorry Jack,” she sobbed, before she turned around and left the room.

He could hear the blood rushing in his ears as he looked up at the ceiling. He couldn’t do this.

He could not lose another person he loved.

Not his best friend.

Not like his child that hadn’t even been allowed to take one breath in this scary world, that he had vowed to protect from the moment Aurbrey had told him that she was pregnant.

Her… They hadn’t been able to move on after the death of their child. The break up had been mutual, yet he found himself in a constant state of just… existing ever since the moment he had gotten the call that Aubrey had died too.

Silence.

All there was now in his life was silence.

Except from when Eve was there. Even without words she seemed to break the silence. His silence.

When he had called her five months ago, drunk again, it seemed to be a constant state back then, she took care of him. They communicated without words. They always had. In the early morning hours, the sun wasn’t even up; he had blinked his eyes open and found her in his arms. Her warm body against his, her head on his arm as they lay on their sides, facing each other. She must have fallen asleep taking care of him. She looked so peaceful, sleeping. He used to love to watch her sleep. He hadn’t had many opportunities over the years. Sometimes he had found himself thinking of the what if’s.

What if he had told her he loved her?

What if she hadn’t been too scared to tell him she loved him?

Would they have gotten married?

Would they have a family?

A dog?

A cat?

A child?

“What are you thinking about, Daniels?” She had asked. He had looked at her for a long time before she opened her eyes, his hand coming up to feel the soft skin of her cheeks. She breathed in deeply and he inhaled her scent, that always reminded him of a sunny spring day. He was tired of the what if’s. He was tired of the sadness he had only been able to feel in almost a whole year.

“Do you ever think about us?” He had asked, pushing her hair behind her ear. Shivering she had breathed out.

“Always.” Eve had whispered back. Jack had leaned in and kissed her softly, and he would never forget the spark he felt, when their lips touched for the first of many times on that one morning they allowed themselves to be together.

Shaking his head he sighed again, before he followed her.

Eve was sitting with a bowl of ice cream on his patio, her naked feet in his pool. The sun had finally set, making the air outside breathable again.

Carefully he sat down next to her.

“I found out last month. I’ve been dying to tell you, but I didn’t know how,” she said quietly.

“You have been through so much in the last year, Jack. This… I never meant for this to happen,” she took a spoon of her ice cream. Jack spotted the second spoon and couldn’t hold back a smile as he reached for it. Eve put the cup in between them and they ate their Ice in silence as the stars slowly began to come visible in the night sky.

“Are you sure it’s…” he swallowed, his voice cracking. “Are you sure it’s mine?” he asked quietly.

“Kev and me haven’t had sex in more than 8 months, so yes I’m sure,” she said, looking at him. He was still looking up in the dark sky as his chest slowly rose with every breath he took.

“I’m scared, Eve,” he admitted, finally looking down at her.

“It feels like I’m a magnet for all things bad and I don’t want to fuck this up too. I can’t lose another person. Especially you.” His hand reached for hers, bringing the back of her hand up to his lips so he could softly kiss it.

“You’re not a magnet for all things bad, Jack,” Eve said softly. Turning so she could face him properly she brushed with her other hand over his cheek, making him close his eyes.

Her thumb caressed his skin and he enjoyed it for as long as it would last.

“I have been so so stupid all my life. Maybe this is the way of life showing me, us, what we knew all along.” She looked into his eyes, before she felt the by now familiar movement in her stomach. Not even trying to hide her smile she looked down.

“She’s awake,” she whispered. Jack followed her gaze as she brought their joined hands down on her lower stomach, and there, very faint, he could feel a movement, making him look at her with wide eyes. It made it more real.

“She?” Jack managed to ask after a while.

“She,” Eve smiled as she looked up at him, seeing him smile back at her.

“I know the timing is more than wrong. Absolutely wrong but Jack, I want this. I want to be the mother of your child. I want to be with you. I… I don’t want to just exist in this world. I want to live. I want to love. I want to…”

She was interrupted by his lips on hers as he leaned in, his hand in her hair to bring her closer. She sighed against his lips as he pulled her on his lap, her hand on his neck, diving into his hair as his tongue demanded entrance in between her lips.

“I love you,” she whispered when his lips left her mouth, to kiss down her jaw.

“I have loved you for the last fifteen years,” she whimpered, moaning when he carefully sucked on her neck.

“I have loved you since the moment I first saw you,” he whispered back. The tears were now freely running down her cheeks.

“We can do this Jack, right?” she asked. He looked up at her, bringing his hands up to frame her face as he leaned with his forehead against hers.

“I am scared as hell to do this. This wasn’t included in my plan. I never…” She closed her eyes.

“I need you with me on this Jack. I know you are scared. But I can’t do this without you,” she whispered.

“Eve…” he said quietly. She opened her eyes.

“I am scared but… I’m also the happiest I have been in a long time. I want this. I want to do this with you. Us two. Together. Like it should have been from the beginning,” he said.

Relieved, as if a thousand bricks fell from her shoulder Eve smiled.

“I can’t wait to wake up every day next to you,” she whispered.

“I can’t wait to meet our baby girl,” he whispered back.

Looking at each other they had no idea what the next months would bring. They didn’t know their daughter had already a mind of her own and decided to come two weeks early, only hours after they had tied the knot at the city hall in LA with only their families there.

They didn’t know that 3 years later they would become parents of twin girls. Or that they would have a dog. And a cat. But they knew that they could do anything, because they had each other.

#my writing #jack daniels #jack daniels x ofc #pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago

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in which you’re prince harry’s personal bodyguard.

a/n: hi angels! i’m SO EXCITED to be finally sharing this story, and i’m really proud of this piece! like it’s genuinely one of my favorites i’ve ever written and one of my babies, so i can’t wait to hear what you all think! this story is inspired by gold rush by taylor swift, and this story immediately came to me once i heard the song. so, enjoy and please reblog and leave feedback!

thank you to my best beta and friend tina @sunflowers-styles and miss zoey @serendipitystyles who screamed with me when i just started writing it, ily both!

WORD COUNT: 24.7k of prince!harry x guard!yn (it’s gonna be a rollercoaster <3)

WARNINGS: ANGST (genuinely a lot of it), smut, mentions of death and disease

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘SINKING SHIPS’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

.・。.・゜

‘Eyes like sinking ships

On waters so inviting

I almost jump in.’

With a slight groan, you were taken out of your slumber by the sunlight that was seeping through your curtains. The birds were chirping away quite loudly this morning—acting like there weren’t people who were sleeping at seven in the morning, but early birds get the worm, right?

You sat up, stretching your arms towards the ceiling as you let out an inhumane sound that was very ‘unladylike’ before freshening up in the restroom. After putting on your regular and daily uniform: black slacks, white crisp shirt with a black tie, and black formal shoes—you opted out on wearing a blazer since you were going to be out for most of the day—before you headed towards the kitchen that felt like miles away because the Royal House was huge.

The chefs were already up, bright and early, ready to feed the Royal family. The aroma of French toast and sautéed vegetables filled your senses, making your mouth water.

“Morning, everyone!” You greeted happily once you entered the kitchen.

“Goodmorning, Y/N!” The chefs welcomed you into their kitchen in sync. You softly smiled, walking over to the fruit basket at the edge of the marble counter, grabbing a banana and orange before walking over to the island and leaning your elbows on it as you watched the chefs cook.

You always loved watching them work on their art, it was quite mesmerizing—the way they sautéed the vegetables, tossing the contents into the air was always something you loved ever since you were young. They were always so proud and humble about their work, presenting it with a satisfied smile as satiated empty stomachs.

Suddenly, the side door opened, revealing Maria tugging on the wagon that carried basketfuls of fresh vegetables and fruits. You quickly walked towards her, grabbing the basket from the wagon to set it down on the counter. The baskets were always quite heavy, and you always made sure to help her out every morning since she wakes up at sunrise to pick out and wash the produce for the day.

“Thank you, my dear,” Maria said, smiling.

“Of course, Maria. These are beautiful.” You handpicked vegetables and fruits. “One day, I’ll wake up earlier to help you out in the morning, so you’re not all by yourself,” you suggested. Maria was like a mother to you, and you truly looked up to her ever since you started to remember things. You never really knew who your real mom was because she had passed away when you were just a year old, so you saw Maria as a motherly figure.

You remembered when you first visited the Royal House; your father, Josiah, used to be a stableman and would bring you to work with him every day, occasionally letting you ride on the horses with him if it was allowed. Josiah and Maria had a mutual liking towards one another, but neither of them had acted upon it. They had just simply acknowledged the fact they had feelings for one another. So, you were around Maria a lot, and it wasn’t forced because you genuinely took a liking towards her and she started becoming a female figure in your life that you never really had.

“Oh, you’re so sweet, but that’s not needed. I know how exhausting your day is, so get those few extra hours of sleep, okay?” She raised her brows at you, and you chuckled, nodding your head at her. “And besides, I’ve actually got some help…” she trailed off in suspense.

It was your turn to raise your brows at her. “Really? And who might that be?” A tint of pinkness hit Maria’s cheeks as she looked down, occupying herself by taking the produce out of the basket.

“Just…Nathaniel.”

“Nathaniel, really?”

“Yeah, he’s nice, yeah? Handsome. Funny. Kind,” she started to sound like she was convincing you, but you really didn’t need all that much convincing because you actually knew him.

“I know Nathaniel, but thanks for the little recap,” you joked, chuckling as Maria blushed. “So, do you like him?” You asked.

“I mean…I don’t know. Maybe,” she admitted shyly. You gave her an encouraging smile because you knew that she was only shy to confess the truth because she had been in love with your father.

“Good—that’s good. Well, if you are taking a liking towards him, don’t run away from your feelings,” you told her sternly as if you were the mother now. “You deserve to be happy and in love!”

“Suppose you’re right. I just feel…bad.”

“Don’t be. He would want you to be happy, I promise,” you reminded Maria.

You could definitely understand why she felt bad about the fact that she was interested in Nathaniel. Maria and Josiah were in love, once upon a time, but ever since your father passed away two years ago, due to his heart condition, it was difficult for Maria to move on from the love of her life. With regret wilting down on her face, she asked herself why she didn’t bother to do anything about her love for him, and she didn’t know if it was the right thing to do to be interested in someone else. However, you constantly reminded her that Josiah wanted you two to have a great life, containing a lot of love and laughter.

Looking at the wall clock above the chocolate brown cabinets, you realized that it was a bit past seven, so duties for the day were calling. You kissed Maria on the cheek, telling her that you’ll see her during lunch before bidding the rest of the staff goodbye as you headed out of the kitchen

Your clad black shoes clicked against the shiny and polished tiled floor, echoing the corridor of the Royal House as you walked towards the West Wing of the house; the staff and employees all lived on the East Wing, and it was quite a walk from one end to the other.

Knocking on the tall and heavy door, you heard absolute silence on the other side, which wasn’t abnormal. So, you knocked once more, hearing no movement before you allowed yourself inside of the bedroom of the Prince.

As you expected, he was sprawled out onto his large bed, too large for one person, with his curls covering his forehead. His mouth was slightly agape with puffs of breaths coming out as he was in deep sleep. You opened the long curtains, letting the sunshine enter his room before walking over to the side of his bed, placing the two fruits on his bedside table so he could fuel himself as he’s getting ready; you gently tapped him on the shoulder.

“Your Highness, It’s time to wake up,” you softly said. With no response, you shook his shoulder a bit harder to get him out of his deep slumber. “Your Highness, it’s past seven.”

The Prince groaned, eyes still closed as he began to writhe around the bed. You took a step back from the bed, waiting for him to wake up fully before greeting him. He buried his face into the pillow, refusing to budge, as an exhausted muffled groan came out of his mouth.

Once his eyes were fully open and he was aware of his surroundings and consciousness, he turned his head towards you, giving you a look as if to momentarily remember who you were; you gave him a smile to start off his day.

“Good Morning—agh!” You let out an unexpected squeal, cut off by the Prince’s large arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you down onto the bed with him. His lips immediately attacked your neck and face, peppering your skin with his affection. You laughed softly, trying to keep your voice down in case anyone heard you, but you couldn’t help it because it tickled. “Your Highness!” You pushed his body away from yours, and you knew he only pulled back because of the name you had called him.

He pouted, looking at you with puppy eyes. “I told you to stop calling me that, Princess,” he joked slightly.

You raised your brows, mouth slightly open as you playfully patted his chest. “And I told you to stop calling me that, Harry.”

“Then I’ll stop calling you that once you stop calling me ‘Your Highness,��” he said in a mocking tone before he raised his brows to see what you were going to respond with because he knew that you loved being called ‘Princess’ even if you were far from actually becoming one. You two would have these playful arguments on which nicknames to call one another, and ‘Princess’ and ‘Your Highness’ were both a bit of an inside joke now.

You simply just rolled your eyes. “Not fit to be a Princess.” Harry’s arms wrapped tighter around your waist as both of your heads rested against the same pillow. You loved mornings like these, and although it was unusual to be sleeping in different rooms, it had to happen under certain circumstances.

“You definitely are fit enough to be a Princess because you’ll be mine…soon…one day,” he lightened up the air, pressing a kiss to your cheek and forehead. “Perfect for me, I swear.” You smiled admiringly at the Prince, feeling incredibly grateful for him and his presence.

For five years, your love for him had only increased when you thought that your heart couldn’t get any bigger. But Harry somehow made it happen; he filled your beating organ with so much love and devotion, making you feel so overwhelmed with happiness that you felt like you could burst any minute. You’ve known Harry since you were a little girl, but you didn’t play with him much since you had to stay close to Josiah. But when you did, you two would always go riding together; it was an innocent and pure friendship, and even when you were younger, you would find yourself missing your friend, who just so happened to be the Prince of the country.

Five-year-old Y/N simply understood that he was a Prince, but you understood it just like the Disney movies. So, you and seven-year-old Harry would play Prince and Princess for fun. Every morning you would tell Josiah to dress you up in a pretty dress because your “Prince was waiting on the West Wing,” as you said.

As the years went by and you two played less of Prince and Princess, but you and Harry were still inseparable. He was your best friend—still is, and you couldn’t be more happy that you two had never drifted off into the fog that vanishes every afternoon.

With how close you were to Prince Harry, you realized you had feelings for him when you were thirteen, and it wasn’t until you were twenty when you two got together. Harry had told you that he’s liked you since he was seven, and fifteen years later, he finally had the balls to tell you. Typically for some, it wouldn’t be the most ideal relationship since your blood didn’t bleed royalty, but you’d rather have him in private rather than displaying your relationship to the entire world, especially his family.

The bubble that was his room, was your hideout. The sanctuary where you felt most comfortable because it was where he slept in, as his scent roamed around the room, making it feel like home. You loved how you immediately felt safe and calm when you opened his bedroom room door, especially when you saw him peacefully sleeping; it was your favorite thing to do.

Harry didn’t mind, either. He knew how brutal his family could be if they ever found out about your relationship with him, and no matter how much he wanted to shout his love for you from the top of his lungs to the world, they truly didn’t need that because the only people who were the most important in this relationship were you and Harry. As long as the two of you knew that you were in love with one another, that’s all that mattered.

He was there for you for most of your life, and with a clueless mind, you didn’t know where you would be without him when your father had died. Since Josiah was working for the Royal Family with your occasional help, you had thought the Queen and King were going to kick you out because you had no place or purpose staying in the Royal House. But luckily, Harry quickly proposed the idea of you being his personal bodyguard. Someone who just followed him around while making him seem less lonely because the other men that were his guards before rarely said a word to him when he was out.

The Dutch and Duchess, and especially the Queen, were a bit skeptical, but let him have his way to avoid any sort of resentment in the future. You were ecstatic and thanked him profusely for letting you stay at the Royal House, but he brushed it off, telling you that he would’ve asked a million times more until they said yes.

So, for two years now, you’d been Harry’s personal bodyguard, and you thought it was the easiest job. One, because even if you weren’t his bodyguard, you’d protect him with your life, putting yourself in front of him when chaos would come his way. Two, he made the job seem fun and it didn’t even seem like a job because you two laughed and messed around from time to time, not actually doing work. And three, who doesn’t love working with their partner?

“Is that a promise?” You tested him, seeing if he was willing to promise you that he was going to marry you. It didn’t seem possible if you were honest. Either he would have to run away from home or you two wouldn’t get married at all, and just stay together, which you wouldn’t mind either.

“That’s definitely a promise. You know me—don’t say shit just to say it,” he said, a smug smile on his face.

“Okay, well. Whenever that day comes, I’ll be waiting to become Mrs. Styles.”

“Princess Styles,” he corrected, and you breathed out a chuckle, shaking your head a tad bit as you surrendered your argument on him calling you that.

You snuggled closer to him, enjoying his presence and warmth; and for a moment, you had forgotten yours and Harry’s responsibilities for the day; you just enjoyed this small and quiet moment you two had together that only usually happened in the mornings. But you cherished them nonetheless.

Nearly drifting off to sleep, you jolted to stay awake. You looked at Harry to see him looking at you with a small but fond smile on his face, eyes gleaming ever so brightly as the sun gently cast its light through his window from above his bed.

You gave him a quick kiss to his lips and nose before getting out of his hold, earning a groan from him. You stood beside the bed, smoothing out any wrinkles that creased on your clothing.

“C’mon, we have so much to do today! Plus, we’ve already exceeded morning bedtime hours.” You grabbed his arm, tugging him towards the edge of the bed. He sighed, resisting as he pulled back.

“Don’t wanna do anything today. Just wanna lay in bed all day with my Princess.” His words came out muffled as he spoke into the pillow. Your cheeks heated up as you held his arm; you wished that you’d get the chance to spend the entire day with him, doing nothing instead of keeping a distance from him throughout the day. But alas, being with him for most of the day was still what you considered a wonderful day.

“Let’s go,” you softly insisted. You kneeled down onto the floor beside him, pecking his face all over. The left side of his face was smashed against the mattress, but you could see the smile forming onto his face as you kissed his cheeks. “Get up, dreamy.” You used your nickname on him, and you realized that was a bad idea since you were trying to get him out of bed.

Harry suddenly perked up, smirking before he turned around to lay on his back. He pulled your arm, hauling you to lay on top of him; you giggled once you landed on him, and he connected his lips with yours, kissing you passionately and sensually. Your legs were straddling him, and you unconsciously ground against his sleep pants, feeling his bulge grow harder and bigger. Harry softly moaned into your mouth, slightly bucking his hips upward towards your center.

You pulled away, about to tell him that you couldn’t do this right now, but once you saw his flushed face and swollen pink lips, not to mention his aching hard-on that was rubbing against your thigh, you decided against it.

And Harry knew you all too well to know that you were going to say something but held back. So, instead, he grimaced and wrapped his arms around your waist before trailing them down to your ass, giving it a squeeze over your pants.

“Think we got time for this?” He raised his brows teasingly at you, and you bit your lip.

Grinding your hips against him was your way of giving him your answer, your mouth met his ear as you whispered, “All the time in the world for you to fuck me.” You nibbled on his earlobe before moving your lips down to the spot under his ear, resulting in a moan slipping out of his mouth.

He flipped you two over, now his turn to hover over you. The Prince gave you a certain look that you knew all too well; it was a look of certainty like he had all the time in the world to have his way with you, and he definitely wasn’t going to shy away from it.

“Wanna feel me? Think you could handle me?” He challenged teasingly. His voice was low, raspy, and deep—much deeper now since it was morning and he’d just woken up. But the way he spoke sent a shiver down your neck, making you jerk, causing a mess in your panties.

“Know I could handle you. I’ve been handling you for years now,” you smirked. A flushed tint rose onto Harry’s cheeks; he always seemed to feel himself get giddy over the fact that you two had been together for years, and hearing it come out of your mouth made it much better.

“Let’s see about that.” He began to kiss down your neck and body as you relaxed into the pillow, completely enjoying his lips and body on you.

And just like all the other days, it was going to be a long morning. But the early birds get the worm, right?

Harry headed towards the dining room where his family was eating breakfast. They all looked up at him suspiciously, like they knew about his morning escapade with his Princess, and he was nearly gutted because they had gotten caught, but they simply just looked at him and continued eating.

“Morning everyone,” he relaxed, clearing his throat as he took his seat, unbuttoning his black suit jacket; a light pink button-down shirt clad on his tattooed torso. The servers that had been serving them for decades, Mariah and Deborah, poured him a tall glass of water and set down his mug of coffee. He thanked them, and they gave him a smile, always surprised to receive a ‘thank you’ in the Royal House. But Harry wasn’t snobby or arrogant, he had manners and was polite.

“A bit late to breakfast, Harry, and you didn’t show for morning tea,” the Queen herself had pointed out. Elaine hadn’t even made eye contact with him, she just continued eating as she sat at the head of the table.

Harry froze for a moment to look at his sister to see if she’ll help, but Gemma just raised her brows, not knowing how to back him up.

“Sorry, Nan. Couldn’t sleep last night, so I slept in a little bit,” Harry lied.

“Hmm, and where was that bodyguard of yours to wake you up? Isn’t she supposed to wake you?” She wondered, but by her tone, it was like she knew already; and Harry really hoped that wasn’t the case.

“Uh, yeah. She did, actually, and I told her to give me a moment. Guess that turned into forty-five…” he curled his lips in, containing the smirk that was begging to show through. His cheeks formed a tint, and he quickly grabbed his glass of water to cool down and to cover his flustered face.

The two of you had stayed in bed longer than anticipated, and when it was only supposed to be a quickie, Harry took his time with you the first round but decided to go two more rounds, fucking you hard until your teeth were biting the sheets and screaming into the pillow. You had to cover all of the marks that littered his neck, but the others that only you were able to see were casually resting under his clothes.

Harry shifted in his seat, remembering how your eyes looked up at him as you kissed down his body to wrap your lips around his cock. His mind was spiraling, immediately thinking filthy things your mouth and body could do to him; that was until Gemma had kicked his foot under the table that got him out of his head.

He looked at her, flicked his head at her, a way to ask ‘what was that for?’ She tilted her head towards the Queen as Elaine was still talking to Harry.

“Okay, just wanted to make sure she’s doing something right. If not, you let me know, and we’ll have her removed from the House,” she advised quite sternly.

“There’s no need for that, Nan. There hasn’t been a problem for the last two years she’s been my guard, so there certainly won’t be,” Harry explained quickly. He didn’t know if his eagerness sold his disagreement, or if it helped his case with his secret relationship with you. But he didn’t want you to leave his side, let alone, leave the House. He wanted you here, and if having you in private was the only way, where you two had to sneak around and kiss behind closed doors, then he didn’t mind that.

Elaine nodded, letting go of the subject before talking to the Dutch, Harry’s father, about some of the duties that needed to be completed today. Harry let out a sigh of relief once the Queen’s attention wasn’t on him anymore. He ate his breakfast in silence, thankful that the conversation he had with his grandmother didn’t go any further than a bit of scolding; he would say it was going to be a good day if they went a morning without Harry marching off early from breakfast.

Breakfast went on quickly after that, thankfully. Mariah and Deborah began to clean the table before setting up a few cups of coffee for his mother, father, and the Queen. Harry and Gemma excused themselves, saying they had a few things to do for the day before they quickly walked out of the kitchen.

The siblings rounded the corner and walked until they were far enough before Gemma spoke, not wanting their family to hear their conversation from the echo because of how large their home was.

“You really need to be careful, H—the both of you, I mean it. Staying in with Y/N can’t happen consistently—I feel like she’s starting to get suspicious. ” Gemma started. She had a concerned expression as the part in between her brows creased.

Harry sighed, nodding his head. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. We’ll try to be more careful. It’s just hard, y’know.”

“I understand. I get it, I really do,” Gemma sighed before chuckling as if a realization had popped into her head. “Hell, I’m doing the same thing, but I’m just better at hiding it,” she chuckled.” It was true; Gemma was in a relationship with one of the servers—Sebastian.

They’d been together for seven years, ever since she was twenty-three. She kept it a secret for three years until she decided to tell Harry, which of course, Harry was ecstatic to hear the news—only because he had just told his sister about his own relationship, which you two had only been together for a year at that time.

Gemma and Harry were supportive of one another, looking out and covering up for each other because at the end of the day, they were on the same side and in the same situation; neither of them wanted the other to get caught because there would be worse consequences coming from the Queen, and the two tried to avoid those said consequences as much as possible.

Naturally, Gemma loved you. You’d grown closer to her and seen her as a best friend, someone you could always go to and count on. The appreciation you had for her was vast, and you thanked her almost every day for how grateful you were that she was so supportive in your relationship with Harry.

“Thanks for kicking me back there, though. Didn’t need another morning where Nan flames my ass,” he scoffed, shaking his head slightly.

Gemma laughed. “Yeah, don’t know why she’s picking fights with you. She used to love you, wonder what changed,” she wondered, genuinely thinking what the cause may be.

“Don’t know what it is, but if you know, tell me because I can’t always eat my meals stressed because she’s always onto me.” Gemma giggled. “Anyways, gotta go. I’ll be at the charity event until late afternoon, and I gotta find my girl. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you. I’ll wait for you to eat dinner, so you’re not alone. Have a good day, little brother, be safe.” The Styles siblings hugged, a nice and warm embrace that showed much appreciation and respect they had for the other.

“You as well, big sister.”

Harry walked in the opposite direction as Gemma, smiling to himself as his heart felt so full. He was lucky to have a sister that was so encouraging and caring, and he always made sure to give the same love back to her because she needed it. Their parents were always a bit strict on them, but he was sure they had to have gotten that attitude from the Queen—well, at least his father. His mother, Anne, was a sweetheart. For some odd reason, she didn’t show much love to her kids because of Elaine. When they were kids, Nan would always get on Anne’s case about how she shouldn’t show them much affection or treat them like babies because they needed to learn discipline and from their own mistakes.

Walking over to the East Wing and past the kitchen, Harry headed towards the living area, where some of the staff, including you, were hanging out, waiting for the Royal Family to finish their breakfast. One of his father’s guards immediately stood up, making the rest hastily stand up to greet the Prince.

“Your Highness…” The staff greeted in sync; the men bowed as the women curtsied as Harry stood in the doorway of the living room. His eyes found yours, watching you curtsy; and on your way up, your head perked up, shyly smirking at him. Harry’s heart flipped as he puckered his lips to the side, containing his smile; you two would always laugh about these kinds of greetings, and sometimes Harry would greet you the same way because after all, were his Princess. He wasn’t one to be formal with greetings, and if it were up to him, he would tell the entire staff to stop greeting him like that, but he didn’t make the rules around here.

“Goodmorning, everyone,” he greeted back. “Hope everyone has a great day. I should get going, though. Y/N?” He looked at you and slightly raised his brows. You walked across the living room and past him, standing before him before making sure to give him a smile. He bid everyone goodbye before you two walked alongside one another.

The two of you headed towards the large front door in silence. You occasionally glanced up, but quickly averted your eyes towards the path, and Harry was also looking at you through his peripheral vision, smiling to himself as he saw how many times you glanced up at him. The silver Rolls Royce was waiting for the both of you at the end of the steps with the back door open with his driver, Benjamin, holding the door open. Harry gestured for you to get into the car first like the gentleman that he was.

“Hi, Benjamin,” you greeted the middle-aged man with a smile.

“Hello, Y/N,” he responded, tilting his hat down.

“Thank you, Benjamin,” Harry shook his hand appreciatively. Benjamin had been Harry’s driver for the past ten years. He used to be his father’s driver, but when Harry grew older and was able to go to events and out on his own, they assigned Benjamin to be Harry’s driver.

“You’re welcome, Prince Harry,” he slightly bowed before closing the door after Harry slipped into the car.

Benjamin drove to the facility where the charity event was held. The privacy compartment screen between the driver and back seat was up; the fancy car seemed more like a movie theater with so much leg space and a middle console between the seats with a blank privacy screen in front of you. It screamed expensive, and Rolls Royce was the company that helped the Royal Family get from point A to point B as their entire underground garage was filled with these types of vehicles.

You and Harry had about half an hour to chat and touch one another, so you unclicked your seatbelt, quickly moving towards his seat. He smiled, unclicked his seatbelt before letting you half-sit on his lap, your legs rested on his thighs, and he pulled the seatbelt over the both of you and clicked the metal buckle before pulling the seat belt strap behind him so it wouldn’t get in your way.

A sigh came out of both of your mouths, enjoying this moment that felt short, but was cherished. You cuddle into his side, resting your head against his shoulder as his arms were tightly wrapped around you. You could feel his heart pounding through his chest, and you enjoyed the sound, knowing it was maintaining a steady heartbeat for you.

Harry kissed your forehead, lips delicately brushing across your skin, making you flustered. You looked up at him as he smiled down at you, the two of you smiling like idiots before he took his lips in with yours.

“What’s it like to grow up always being so beautiful?” He suddenly asked, very charmingly, might you add. He couldn’t get enough of you and how stunning you looked every single day; no matter how much you disagreed with him, he always thought you were the most gorgeous person on this Earth.

You smiled, looking, and studying his face. Some strands of his hair had fallen into place against his forehead; you pushed them back, softly kissing his forehead.

“Could say the same for you. You always have a beautiful heart and a lovely face.” You grazed his jaw with your thumb, his stubble scratching against your finger.

A breathy chuckle fell from his lips. “Love you, my Princess. Dream girl, I swear.”

“And I love you, Your Highness. Love you like crazy,” you softly giggled, kissing his jaw. “How was breakfast, by the way?”

“The usual. Gemma said Nan is starting to get suspicious, so we have to be careful, can’t have too many mornings in,” he explained sadly. You slightly pouted, but quickly covered up your sad expression with a neutral face, not wanting to make him feel bad because he had no control over his grandmother.

“Okay…” you agreed, nodding your head.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he said genuinely. “Know this is hard, but we’ll figure it out, alright?” His hand cupped your cheek, gently caressing your soft skin as he looked deeply into your eyes. His green eyes held an immense amount of care and love, just like his heart, and just being in his view of vision was an honor enough.

You nodded, blinking back the tears that had quickly formed. “I know we will. Don’t mind having you to myself, though,” you chuckled. The corners of his lips turned up as his dimple popped out. You took your finger and poked his dimple, something you had been doing ever since you were younger.

“I don’t mind it either, but sometimes the sneaking around sucks, doesn’t it?” His brows slightly furrowed, clear frustration expressed on his face. You took your thumb and smoothed out his stressed and wrinkled forehead, and he immediately relaxed.

“It does, but if that’s what it takes for me to be with you, then that’s how it’s gonna be.”

Harry deeply sighed, resting his head against your neck. You lifted your head up, so he had more room to perfectly fit against you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Butterflies soared in your stomach once you felt his lips against your neck, pressing soft and gentle kisses to your skin. After all these years, his touch still made you giddy while goosebumps rose on your skin. His kisses didn’t lead to anything more as they simply spoke the words of admiration and gratitude.

“Hmm, don’t deserve you,” he mumbled against your skin.

“Yeah, you do. Deserve love and happiness more than anything, and if I’m the one to provide it to you, then that’s all I need in life.” He pulled his head back, coming face-to-face with you now as your words had really meant something. Your hand grazed his cheek, feeling his soft but yet somewhat stubbled skin.

“I love you so much. Genuinely think my heart is going to explode full with my love for you.” He took your hand that was on his face in his, giving the back of your hand a kiss before placing your palm against his heart. You felt his heart beating fast, hard, and it was all for you. “You have my heart in the palm of your hand.” His actions were literal, and you loved how he always had a way with his words. “Full of love for and from you.”

You smiled, leaning forward to kiss him as your hand was still against his chest. For the rest of the car ride, you two relished in one another’s touch; it felt nice to be with one another outside of the Royal House where you didn’t have to hide behind corners or in secret passageways.

When the car came to a smooth stop, you quickly unclicked the seat belt and got off of Harry, giving him a peck to his lips before situating yourself in your own seat. Benjamin opened Harry’s door and you let yourself out on your own side, quickly jogging around the car to stand next to Harry.

A line of Rolls Royces were parked behind the vehicle you were in previously, and five guards, including you, were surrounding Harry as you all walked inside of the banquet room. You were standing in front of Harry, between two guards, while the other two were slightly behind the Prince, making sure he was safely boxed in between you all.

Quite a few gasps were let out once people saw who had just walked in, and the volume in the room had increased. People were starting to walk towards you all, bowing and curtsying to the Prince as he said his hellos to everyone. Straight ahead, you noticed a woman running towards you, and you knew that wasn’t safe at all, considering this was a children’s charity event and you had the Prince right behind you.

“Prince Harry-” her arms reached forward and she gained a little air, jumping a tad bit, but you had immediately stopped her, making sure she did no harm to the royalty.

“Ma’am, please step back,” you stood in front of her like a brick wall, pushing her slightly as she stumbled back a bit. Her face had gone red, stepping aside; Harry softly smiled at her, waving his hand. You turned around briefly to see if Harry was okay, and a small smile appeared on his face, nodding at you to proceed.

The group of guards walked Harry to one of the tables a group of kids were sat at. Harry told the guards that he was okay and that they could stand back until he was ready to leave. The four guards, including you, separated along the wall behind the Prince.

You observed the room, noticing that there were a few photographers, clicking away at the charity event, making sure they get Prince Harry in their shot, along with volunteer workers and some parents at the event with their phones out, snapping pictures of him. You watched Harry interact with the children, helping them build legos with an enthusiastic smile on his face; he would high-five them, telling them that they did an amazing job building the ship before taking his phone out and snapping a picture of the wonderful sets the kids had built.

Your heart warmed at the sight, and you couldn’t help but think about Harry being the father of your children because he would be the best dad; he would treat them so sweetly, spoil them rotten, and support them in letting them be whoever they’d like to be. A sudden warmth hit your face as you curled your lips into your mouth, hiding your smile—you suddenly thought about being pregnant and how Harry would be so gentle with you as he touched and kissed your stomach.

With your leg shaking as you stood, you were getting jitters as you daydreamed. One of the guards noticed that you couldn’t stand still, so he slightly nudged your shoulder with his, bringing you out of your pleasant daydream. You looked up at Earl, raising your brows before he asked if you were okay. You nodded your head, standing straighter and placing your arms behind your back, interlocking your hands as you continued to watch how Harry’s smile brightened up while playing with the children.

Harry absolutely loved charity events, not because they gave him good press but because every time he had gone to one, he would forget that there were cameras around him. Being and spending time with the kids had made him so happy, and the children seemed to enjoy their time with him as well, so that’s all that mattered to him.

The charity event was being hosted by a foundation that helped kids who lacked a certain connection with their youthfulness because their parents didn’t have the money to get their kids toys or bring them to amusement parks. The foundation was a non-profit organization that simply organized donations to be used towards the children. They hosted toy drives every month, picnics every other Saturday, and sometimes Disney trips every six months if they reached their donation goal.

Harry was all for donating to them, and this foundation was one of the five organizations for children that he was a member of and was very active with them throughout. He was very passionate about helping the children out, and he wanted them to have a nice childhood, helping them outweigh the good from the bad. His natural liking towards kids in general very much helped him easily bond with them.

After a few hours, making sure every child got his attention, he was ready to leave. He didn’t leave without saying a small speech because it was expected; thanking everyone for donating and supporting this foundation, and he also thanked the kids for playing with him, which he earned many cheers from the young ones.

Once he got off stage, he made eye contact with you, telling you that he was ready, and you headed towards him, the other guards followed after you. Just like you arrived, the guards boxed Harry in safely as he bid everyone goodbye. Everyone waved as a series of farewells were scattered across the room, sad to see the Prince go. Once you all were outside the venue, Benjamin was waiting by the passenger door. From the three hours Harry had been at the event, news had spread out like wildfire that the Prince was attending the event, so there was a swarm of paparazzi waiting outside the venue.

The box of guards that were surrounding Harry closed in tighter since you had to get through the crowds. Harry, being the polite prince that he was, said hi to everyone as they reached out to hold his hand. But he rarely let anyone touch him because of an incident he had six months ago when he had reached over to shake someone’s hand, but they had taken advantage of the opportunity and harshly yanked him forward, making him stumble. Being frightened by that, he informed his guards to not let anyone touch him after that. He wasn’t being obnoxious or a typical ‘no one can touch me because I’m the Prince’ kind of guy, it was simply for his safety. You absolutely hated that someone was out to hurt him, and it pained you to see how shaken up he was that day. If the Prince had actually gotten hurt that day, there would be massive consequences for that person, but anyone would risk their lives to feel his touch.

Once you were close to Benjamin, Harry let you get into the car first, but Benjamin stopped you. With a confused look on your face, you asked if everything was okay while Harry asked if there was something wrong. Benjamin leaned down to whisper in Harry’s ear, and you furrowed your brows, suddenly becoming suspicious as you watched them. Benjamin pulled back and Harry deeply sighed, shaking his head.

“Y/N is my personal guard, though,” Harry mentioned.

“Yes, but this was a direct message from the Queen herself. I’m only delivering the message, Your Highness. I don’t want to lose my job if I don’t comply,” Benjamin explains sadly. There was clear stress on his face, saddening him that he has to go against the Prince’s orders, but he couldn’t afford to lose his job when he has a family. And besides, it’s the Queen—everyone follows her orders.

“Okay. Thank you, Benjamin,” Harry said, and Benjamin bowed.

Harry turned towards you, leaning down to whisper into your ear just as Benjamin did to him. “Nan said that I have to take one of the other guards to ride back to the House with me. Specifically said, ‘Have the other guard come back with Harry, don’t care who it is.’ She told Benjamin that she wouldn’t be happy if he’d let us ride together. Fuckin’ ridiculous.” Harry pulled back, rolling his eyes. You simply nodded, knowing you couldn’t comfort him in any way since you were still in public, so you moved out of the way and stepped aside.

Harry gave you a quick smile before turning his head to one of the guards, asking if he could join him. They quickly said yes, and safely got into the car. The rest of the guards waited until the car door was closed before walking towards the cars they arrived in. You slipped into the car, the one you didn’t arrive in, as you watched the one with your Prince inside drive away and towards the Royal House.

Sighing, you looked out the window and watched the road and houses pass by. The Queen had never really taken a liking to you—never really made the effort to talk to you. You were the closest person to Harry, physically, since you were his bodyguard, but all she had ever done was question your actions when you’d been doing your job correctly, according to the instructions and demands from Prince Harry.

But the worry and anxieties had increased because Elaine had become more suspicious than she was last year. Had she found out about your relationship with the Prince? You two had been doing well at hiding it besides this morning. And you had been good, denying Harry’s wishes to stay in up until this morning. But every day, it got more difficult hiding your love and affection towards the Prince. The word ‘no’ coming from his beautiful mouth as he would stare at you with those captivating emerald green eyes as he would plead to spend more time with him in his comfortable bed; the word completely vanished from your head.

You wished the situation was different, but for now, you only hoped that things would get better from here.

Once the car was parked in front of the large cemented steps that led up to the front door of the Royal House, Harry sighed, thanking Benjamin for driving him as well as Nico for accompanying him on the ride back. They both bowed, saying ‘you’re welcome’ before Harry let himself out and up those steps. Benjamin quickly reminded him that the Queen would like to see him when he arrived home, making Harry dread the conversation.

He walked slowly towards the front door that was opened by two of the front gate guards. Saying a quick ‘hello’ to them, he walked towards the Queen’s lair, where she always prevailed when she said she needed to have a conversation with someone.

The hallway leading to the double doors always made Harry anxious, ever since he was a little boy. He hated how dimly lit the hallway always was, and he never understood why she never wanted to put lights in this hallway. Probably to match her heart, Harry thought, but immediately took back the thought because he shouldn’t think that way about his grandmother, better yet, the Queen.

Taking a deep breath, his shaky hand knocked on the door, hearing ‘Enter’ from the Queen from inside, and Harry opened the door. His grandmother was sitting at her large desk chair that was lined like a gold antique frame and was drinking tea out of her teacup that was passed down from generations.

“Your Majesty,” Harry bowed, greeting his Nan. She placed her teacup down onto the small plate, placing her hand out to indicate him to sit down in the chair on the other side of the desk. There were no greetings, not a word out of her when he had entered, and now, she was staring at her grandson with snake eyes, ready to attack.

Harry gulped, hands fidgeting in his lap as he sat straight up so she didn’t point out any more of the things he was doing wrong.

“How was the charity event, Harry?” She suddenly asked, breaking her silence.

“Uh, good. Had a lot of fun with the children.”

“Good, good. Anyways, I should get to the point with this, hmm?” She raised her brows as she asked her question as a genuine one. Harry’s face remained neutral, slightly nodding. “I called you in here because I wanted to tell you a bit of news that I found out earlier this week…” she trailed, taking a deep breath before she revealed her news. “I found out that I’m dying. I have a tumor in my brain, and the doctors have found it too late. They gave me the option to have surgery where they would try to take it out, but that would lead to very risky complications that I can’t afford. So, I told them that I would hold out.”

Harry was shocked. His mouth was open, eyes wide, and speechless. Not knowing how to process this new information, he couldn’t believe how casual her tone was when she told him, even her face remained calm like she expected this to happen.

“I, uh…Nan…”

“I’ve been preparing for this—I’m getting older, so this was bound to happen already. I’m making sure the kingdom and our country are safe, and I’m making sure your parents are ready for the job they are about to accept.”

Harry nodded, eyes welling up. “H-How much longer do you have?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Doctors said six months to a year, but that could change anytime. We just don’t know.” Harry exhaled deeply, looking down at his lap. He felt as if his heart was heavy as he listened to her talk about her disease—how okay she was with dying. Sure, now, he and Nan don’t get along very well, but once upon a time, they were closer than ever. The Queen absolutely loved her grandson and was always so sweet and gentle with him, but things quickly changed when he turned twenty-two. The older you get, the more distant they become, he thinks. He sighed, wishing it wasn’t like that.

“I do have a wish from you…before I go.”

“Anything,” he answered immediately, and he had wished he hadn’t answered so soon because the words that came out of her mouth next was his worst nightmare.

“I would like to see you get married while I’m still alive. I’m arranging a gala this weekend and I’d like you to meet some people, you know, you can take your pick or whatnot,” she said with an emotionless face. He always disliked how much she lacked enthusiasm or emotion, and how she talked about things so casually.

Elaine picked up her pen, writing out Thank You cards that she was sending to some people in the village.

“I…what?”

“Might I need to repeat that again?” She raised her brows annoyingly, hating when she needed to repeat herself.

“I can’t do that…”

“And why not?” She asked sternly, her change of voice had surprised Harry as she slapped her pen down onto the wooden desk.

“Because…” This was it; he could easily out his relationship with you, tell her the truth, and it would be over with, but he didn’t because he knew that you weren’t ready for what was to happen after. Besides, you would have to know if he was going to tell her the truth, so Harry couldn’t go behind your back. “I don’t wanna meet someone at the gala just to get married right away. What happened to falling in love?” He questioned.

Elaine scoffed, waving her hand. “Falling in love, that’ll happen when? Never? I’m gonna be gone, Harry. You’d rather fall in love in a year’s time rather than fulfill your grandmother’s wish?” Her voice started to increase, echoing, and bouncing off the walls of her office. Harry started to shake his legs anxiously from the volume of her voice and the idea that she proposed, absolutely hating it.

The Queen had guilt-tripped him into marrying someone; she had used her disease and lifetime time limit so she could get what she wanted. Elaine knew full well he was going to obey her wishes because that’s how Harry was—he didn’t want anyone to feel bad and he certainly didn’t want it to come from him. She would ask Gemma, but she had much thicker skin than her brother, so she would turn the idea down faster than Elaine would be able to get it out. But Harry, on the other hand, was much easier to get to.

“Harry, I’m only asking for one thing. When have I ever asked you for anything major?” She crossed her arms, resting them down on the desk. “This is my dying wish. Wouldn’t you want your wish to be-”

“Okay,” he interrupted. His voice was soft as he didn’t dare to look her in the eye as he spoke.

“Great, it’s settled. Make sure to get your fittings done before the weekend. You have to look your best.” Harry didn’t have to look at her to know that she was absolutely beaming, knowing that she got what she wanted and didn't try hiding her excitement. “Please close the door on your way out.”

Harry stood up slowly as he was in disbelief. Walking out of her office and closing the door, he started to breathe heavily. Tears were in his eyes and his chest felt heavy as his hands started to shake. He picked at his fingers to calm the shakiness down, but it didn’t work. Walking down the hallway, he rushed towards his room, not even checking to see if you had arrived yet, but he couldn’t face you, not yet. He had just agreed to marry someone that wasn’t you, and you were bound to be upset—he would be suspicious if you weren’t. How was he going to break this news to you? Hell, he didn’t even know how to process this himself.

All he knew was that this was not going to end well.

Hours later, you were wandering around the house, wondering where your Prince could be. You hadn’t seen him since you left the banquet hall earlier this afternoon; and Benjamin had told you he was to meet with the Queen once he had gotten home, but as the hours went by, you hadn’t heard or seen him.

Quickly walking over to the West Wing, you headed towards his room because that was the last place you hadn’t checked. You walked by some of the guards and maids, saying a quick ‘hello’ to them as you passed by; it wasn’t odd for any of the staff to see you heading towards the Prince’s room because you had done it many times and Harry had instructed you, in front of the staff, that if you ever needed to see him, you could knock on his door.

So, that’s what you did; you knocked on his door, waiting for a word from the other side, but you heard no movement whatsoever. You had checked the entire Royal House from top to bottom, but he was nowhere to be found, so he had to be in his room. You took a look around if anyone was near and once you saw the second floor was empty, you slowly opened the bedroom door of the Prince’s room. And what you saw was as if a tornado had hit his room; a mess was what described his room perfectly as objects were thrown all across the floor, the bed was unmade, chairs and sofa were flipped upside down, and the mirror was cracked in half, leaving shards of glasses on the dresser.

You slowly walked in, afraid that someone other than Harry might be in his room, and had purposefully trashed it. There was light coming from his bathroom, so you walked towards the light, slowing your steps so your shoes wouldn’t squeak against the polished and shiny tiles.

“Harry?” You softly called out. By now, he would have come out because you were the only one allowed in his room without permission, so you were starting to get worried.

Once you were close to the restroom, you started to hear sobs echoing the bathroom, filling the room with soft and quiet heartbreaking sounds, making your heart drop because you knew those cries and you knew exactly who they came from. When you were inside the bathroom, you saw Harry sitting against the wall, arms leaning on his knees as his face was resting on his arms as Harry cried and sobbed.

Seeing the love of your life in pain and in such anguish, it genuinely felt as if your heart was tearing into pieces or if someone had ripped your heart out and stomped on it. The pain that Harry endured was also felt through your heart as well because he was your soulmate, you both felt everything the other felt.

You kneeled beside him, gently calling out for his name once more so he knew that you were right beside him before you placed your hand on his shoulder. Harry didn’t have to look up to know that it was you—your touch, your voice, and your presence before leaning to the side and into your arms, sobbing into your chest uncontrollably. You quickly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, comforting him in the best way that you knew how, and that was to simply hold him.

He liked being held and it made him feel at ease, made his mind shut out the noise. You would simply hold him for the rest of your life if your life depended on it, and if that meant keeping him calm and at peace, then you didn’t mind.

You ran your hand through the locks of his hair, scratching his scalp and pushing his hair out of his face. You kissed his forehead, giving him many pecks in a way to comfort him. Harry roughly coughed and sniffled; you could feel his heart beating radically, so you smoothed your hand down his back, somewhat rocking him in your arms. You knew he wasn’t a baby, you knew that, but if it worked with crying babies, then it must work with adults too. And besides, who didn’t like to be held while crying?

To your credit, it had worked; Harry was calming down and his heartbeat wasn’t out of control. He looked up at you through his glassy eyes, sniffling; he looked defeated, and you hated that you weren’t there when he was breaking down because it must have gone on for hours. There were visible tears that stopped against the crevice of his nose, so you took your hand and wiped his tears away before kissing his nose.

Harry sat up, sitting against the wall as he was before you came in. Propping his knees up, you moved to sit in front of him, in between his legs, so he could know that you were there for him and that he had your full attention. He grabbed your hands, sadly kissing them but in a way, saying ‘thank you’ for comforting him and making him feel better just by your hold. You rubbed his hands with your thumb, gently caressing his skin as you patiently waited for him to talk to you.

He took a very deep breath as if it physically pained him to breathe before he spoke, wishing the words that came out of his mouth were a sick joke, but it wasn’t—nothing that came out of the Queen’s mouth was a joke.

“I spoke with my grandmother earlier…” he began to tell you that she had brain cancer and that she wasn’t going to do anything about it, just live the rest of her life until she couldn’t anymore. Your face saddened as Harry explained, simply just listening to him as he spoke. You placed one of your hands around his neck, playing with the curls that sat on the back of his neck.

“Bub, I’m so sorry to hear that.” You leaned forward, kissing his cheek before giving you a hug. He wrapped his arms tightly around you, taking in your scent and comfort; he felt better for the time being—before he had to tell you the other part. A new set of tears streamed down his face, unable to hide his emotion now.

Once you pulled away, you softly wiped his face with your hand before he spoke again. “Sadly, that’s not the news that I’m crying over.”

Raising your brows, you looked at Harry with a surprised expression, wondering what got him so sad to trash his room and breakdown in the corner of the bathroom.

“Oh…W-What is it?” You hesitated.

You listened, watching his mouth as he spoke. Every ounce of hope had disappeared from your body as Harry explained the situation that he was in, that you were in. He cried, unable to be coherent as possible as his sobs won over his ability to speak a full and proper sentence. It genuinely felt like you were asleep like this was a dream, more of a nightmare. As if all of the plans and dreams you had patiently waited for was thrown out the window in a world record time of a minute, maybe less. The color from your face had completely drained, leaving you shocked, appalled, and hurt. Every word was just another twist of the knife that went straight to your heart as you wished his words would get better to relieve the strong and harsh ache in your chest, but they didn’t.

Wake up, please, wake up, you told yourself, but this was reality. It was real.

Silence had washed over you two after Harry was done explaining the horrible news. The silence was louder than glass shattering, loud and pitchy. Contrasting to the silence outside of your head that laid between you and Harry, the inside of your mind, your world, was similar to the glass, breaking and crumbling into pieces with one hard hit of the enemy.

“I-I’m sorry, baby. I should’ve said something, anything. But instead, I said yes,” Harry bawled through his words.

“Are we…over?” You asked nervously. The lack of eye contact you were giving him only pained him, but he knew how difficult it was to say that. He took your face into his hands, tenderly cradling your sad but beautiful face.

“No,” he immediately disagreed. “I mean, not if you don’t want it to be. I understand why you would, though—didn’t even fight for you. Please, let me fix this. I’ll talk to her, tell her everything. She can’t make me do this, I have a right to my own words and decisions, right?” You stayed silent. Harry understood why you were quiet as you were still taking in this information and how to process that your boyfriend was to be married in the next few months, but he really needed to hear your voice. He needed the reassurance from you because you always seemed to know the right words, but he knew you needed him more. “Princess, please look at me.” His voice was shaky, and you glanced up at him through your lashes. “I’m gonna fix this, okay? Not gonna let her walk all over me again. I love you, and it’s time for her to know that.”

You nodded briefly, not able to get the right words out. Harry didn’t mind; he took you into his arms, wrapping his strong and tattooed arms around your shaking and frightful body.

He held you tight as you both sat on the floor of his bathroom, pretending that everything was going to be okay. But in reality, neither of you knew if it really would be.

The weekend had come by too quickly for Harry’s liking. He didn’t get the chance to have a moment with the Queen because she was busy with handling errands for the gala; from talking to event coordinators, caterers, and floral arrangements, so she hadn’t gotten a moment to sit down unless it was nighttime. Harry practically felt her negligence towards him, always telling him she’d talk to him later, which left Harry feeling defeated because the more she ignored him, the quicker the days had gone by—closer to the gala.

And to his dislike, it was the morning of the gala, something he had been dreading ever since Elaine had told him she was hosting one. It felt like his world was crumbling; he noticed your demeanor change—how could it not. Things weren’t the same, and they weren’t going to be the same again until he got himself out of the unwanted arranged marriage that the Queen was putting him upon.

You didn’t mean to act differently around Harry, your boyfriend, or whatever this meant for your relationship, but it was difficult to act like your normal self. You sought comfort from Maria as she told you that this wouldn’t be the last of you two; she had a gut feeling it wouldn’t be.

You had always imagined getting married to him as you two would excitedly talk about marriage and how life would be when you were husband and wife. But Harry was soon to be meeting his wife, and you had to be in the same room as him, possibly feet away from him when he did so. Your heart ached, dropping to your stomach as you felt sick to your gut every time you thought about it.

You were wearing your usual attire but you added a black corset over your white shirt and a black blazer since the gala was a more formal event. Standing in front of the large bedroom doors, you closed your eyes for a mere second, taking a deep breath before knocking, entering right after.

Upon your eyes was Harry standing on the block square step in front of the mirror that was placed in the corner of his bedroom. His seamstress sewing the crystals that were loose on his embellished jacket that he paired with white trousers. The gold buttons on the front of his jacket were engraved with his initials, adding a touch of personalization to his attire; along with his white lace gloves, white pearl necklace, and cross pendant.

He looked absolutely marvelous, rightfully so, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him no matter how heartbroken you were.

His eyes caught yours in the mirror, widening before turning around to face the seamstress. “Jaylin, I think we’re good, yeah?” He asked, hoping she wouldn’t find any more flaws in his suit.

“Yes, we are. Have a great time at the gala, Your Highness,” she curtsied, grabbing her supplies before heading out the door. You greeted her on her way out, and you earned a smile from her.

The click of the door was heard, indicating that it was just the two of you in his room. Usually, you would take advantage of being alone with him, but again, things were different this time around.

Harry stepped off the step, slowly walking towards you. His eyes never left yours, piercing through you like fire, and you were going to melt.

“Hi, beautiful,” he greeted softly, looking you up and down. You slightly grinned, looking down at your feet.

“Hi, Your Highness.”

He placed two fingers under your chin, lifting your head up. You looked at him with doe eyes, and he couldn’t help but fall in love with you even more with just your stare.

“You look gorgeous,” he complimented. Leaning forward, he was about to place a kiss on your lips, but you felt his hesitancy as he pulled away. He hadn’t felt your touch, your lips in what seemed like years; completely deprived of your touch, but it’d only been a few days.

“Thank you. You look wonderful as always.” You grabbed the edge of his jacket, tugging on it to straighten out the material before smoothing your hand over his shoulder and down his arms. Harry sucked in a breath; that was the most you’d ever touched him in days, and he was cherishing every second of it because reality had hit him, and this could possibly be the last time you were ever going to touch him.

You sighed, pulling back as you crossed your arms behind you. Harry could tell that you had a million thoughts racing in your head and you were wary of saying them, but nothing you could say would scare him; he was already faced with his biggest nightmare.

He walked towards you, taking your hands in his. The softness of your hands juxtaposed to the slight roughness of his that carried multiple heavy rings on his slender fingers.

“Hey, I’m gonna fix this, alright? I’m telling her tonight, and I promise that I’m gonna be yours forever, no matter what happens,” he reassured, looking ever so deeply into your eyes so you would get the message. His eyes had captured yours, putting you under his spell, so you nodded and believed him. Harry sighed in relief, thankful that you trusted him. “I actually got you something.” He let go of your hands, walking over to his dresser before pulling out a square box from the drawers.

Harry was always one to give, always the giver and he loved giving without expecting anything in return. Throughout your relationship, he would always buy you random but sentimental things that he saw at the shop simply because it reminded them of you. The thought was incredibly sweet and you loved the fact that even when you weren’t around him, he was still thinking of you.

He opened the box, revealing a pearl necklace that had a gold anchor in the middle. It was a necklace that you had thought of getting to match the tattoo that was inked next to your right breast. You and Harry had gotten complimentary tattoos the second year of your relationship, and he proudly got a ship tattoo on his left arm as well as an anchor on his wrist to match with you. Harry was your anchor; he kept you upright. He was the backbone of your ship, helping you slow down whenever you needed a break.

“You were secretly eyeing this when we visited that farmer’s market a few months ago. And since I couldn’t go and get this by myself since you’re always with me, I asked Gemma if she could get it for me. Hope this was the one you were talking about,” he explained shyly as he held the box open for you.

You were speechless as your heart fluttered. “Harry…” Your fingers delicately grazed the necklace, studying and feeling his gold chain; it was the exact same one you saw at the market.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, I do—I love it.” You softly smiled up at him. “D-Do you mind putting it on me?” He immediately nodded, taking the necklace out of his case, and you turned around, slowly pulling your hair to the side.

Harry unclasped the necklace; the small skin on the back of your neck was exposed to him, so he leaned down, placing a small kiss on your skin. The action sent shivers down your spine, but you took the touch that you’d been starved of. He put the necklace on as it sat perfectly against your collarbone; and Harry wrapped his arms around your waist, taking in your delicious scent. You felt extremely warm as if you were standing in the courtyard and the sun was casting its light right down your spine, providing you warmth. You placed your arms on top of his, hugging him to yourself as he rested his face against the crook of your neck, tenderly kissing your skin.

A deep sigh of relief was released from your lips as you let loose in his hold. His arms were a place you wanted to be in forever; it was a place where you found security and comfort, and the thought of leaving, a chance to never be in his arms, had never once crossed your mind.

You turned around in his arms, facing him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, mindlessly playing with the small curls that sat so effortlessly on his neck.

“Thank you for the necklace, I truly love it,” you sincerely said, reaching up to place a small chaste kiss on his lips. Your lips against his had made Harry’s stomach flip, and he couldn’t bear to hide the smile that made you fall so hard for him.

“You’re welcome, my love.”

“Do you mind…fixing my corset? It’s a bit loose.” You offered him a smile, and he nodded. You took off your blazer before he reached behind you to untie the knot that you had tried to make look decent.

“I love you, you know that, right?” You suddenly asked as Harry pulled the strings tighter, making you take a big breath in before he started to tie them smoothly without the need to look if he’s doing it correctly; he’s tied your corset for you so many times already that it was all muscle memory.

“Yeah, I do know that,” he nodded, looking deeply into your eyes. You had practically felt Harry’s doubts and insecurities of your love deep through because of the news that he broke to you the other day. And you figured you weren’t being a good enough girlfriend to him and failing to remind him that you loved him and it wasn’t his fault for everything that’s happening. “You know I love you as well, yes?”

You raised your brows at him, nodding. “Mhm. Just wanted to see if you knew.”

He chuckled, finishing up the knot. “Yeah, I know.”

He placed his hands on your hips, and you leaned to give him a kiss to thank him as well as just to kiss him lovingly, something you two hadn’t done in days. Giving you a smile, he was going to go in for another one, but a knock was heard on the door, making you two pull away quickly.

That knock on the door only meant that the car was ready and that Harry should be heading to the gala now. That knock only meant that it was time to face his future—the future that was going to fight for, the one that he wanted and not the Queen.

That knock only indicated that it would be determined if he was to live with or without you, and there’s no way in hell he was living without you.

Elaine had definitely gone all out with this gala, Harry thought. It was held in a museum that was closed due to the Queen’s personal favors and demands.

When a guest entered the gala, they were immediately caught with the gold antique lining on every end of the wall; the high crystal chandeliers reflected off the gold and illuminated the room even further, bouncing off the shiny and polished floors. Long champagne color curtains were draped in front of each window with a historical gold statue pushed up against the window. The dome-shaped ceiling was high, painted to tell the story of the Renaissance. When a guest entered the gala, they were welcomed with elegance, grace, and exquisiteness, prepared to have a gold evening that would only end in secret affairs and tragic events.

You led Harry through the room, many guests greeting him with such poise as they tried to get his very best impression. With suits looking sharp and dresses were extra flowy, they bowed and curtsied as Harry politely said his greetings to them.

Many of the guests had been mentally and physically prepared to have a proper conversation with Prince Harry, and hopefully get a chance with him on the dance floor, if he allowed it. Everybody wondered what it would be like to walk into the building with Prince Harry on their arm, how they would flaunt and brag about how they arrived with him.

During galas and balls like these, the guards were instructed to be present, to be aware, so they didn’t need to always be close to the Royal Family. Once you got an approving nod and smile from Harry, you left him be; guests surrounded him, the men were shaking his hand as the women gave him a kiss on the cheek. He was completely soaked up in the attention, everyone praising him for the recent work that he’s done for different foundations and events that he attended recently. He’d been offered too many invites to grab a drink, or to the dance floor later in the evening, or even to their bedroom when everyone was asleep.

Politely and respectfully, he told all of them that he’d see where the night would take him, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to reject them fully because the only one he wanted to have a drink with was you. The only one he wanted to invite and take on the dance floor, dancing and spinning the night away to classical and soft music was you. The only one he wanted to go to bed with, to make love under the sheets, and wake up in the early hours of the morning to admire how you slept was you.

The Queen was sitting on her throne, crown sitting perfectly on her head as she watched Harry for over an hour, interacting with her guests. She could practically hear the conversations that the many women whispered to in his ear, inviting him for a night in their presence, but she noticed how uninterested Harry was—the look on his face said it all and how he would politely brush off their question without giving them an answer. She observed how he, quite often, looked over at you, standing against the wall, watching him as well.

You were nervously watching him, observing the way he acted around the guests, seeing if his demeanor would suddenly change since you weren’t right by his side anymore. It wasn’t as if you were jealous—you were never one to be jealous; it was your own insecurities that made you constantly worry about how Harry could just pack up and find someone else that was much better for him. Everyone always wondered what it would be like to love Prince Harry, and you were the lucky one to know what his love felt like, and you would hold onto that love for as long as you possibly could.

Elaine had made her rounds and chatted with several people who were eager to talk to her, and they were lucky enough to get a chuckle out of her. It was difficult impressing the Queen, her own family even struggled to get her approval, so it was a rare sight to see Elaine walk up to someone and initiate a conversation.

But that person wasn’t just ‘anyone,’ they were that person the Queen had specifically picked out to wed her grandson, someone who was worthy of hers and the Prince’s time. Elaine had asked the woman to follow her, which she immediately complied as Elaine walked through the room, nodding her head at everyone who greeted her, for what seemed like the hundredth time.

Harry was in conversation with one of the Dukes when his grandmother had walked up to him, the first time tonight, with someone, who he had never met before, trailing behind her.

“Harry,” The Queen made herself known.

“Your Majesty.” Harry bowed.

“I would like you to meet Venus. She’s the daughter of one of the board members for the Water and Power Organization,” Elaine introduced the dark-haired girl.

Venus curtsied. “Your Highness.” She smiled, flashing him her gorgeous smile. Venus was pretty, anyone knew that from just a glance. She wore a champagne silk dress that had crystals embedded on her waist, cinching her figure. She added white silk gloves and diamond earrings to top off the look.

“Pleasure,” Harry simply said behind a smile, masking his anxious and nervous attitude. He knew this was the moment where the Queen would tell him who Venus was and what he was to do while you were standing in the back watching the entire interaction, holding in your tears as your heart broke a little more.

“My dear, Harry,” Elaine started. Harry looked at his grandmother weirdly; she hadn’t called him that since he was younger. “Shall you accompany her to the dance floor? Get to know each other, hmm?” She suggested, brows raised.

Harry was all too polite to reject the poor girl as Venus looked at him with hopeful eyes. He simply cleared his throat and nodded, hesitantly offering her hand to the dance floor. Venus gladly took his hand, and Harry led them under the high crystal chandelier before she put her hand on his shoulder while the other still held his hand. Harry respectfully placed his hand on the small of her back--his actions unsure. Sure, he had danced with many people throughout the years, even while being with you, but this was completely different; this was the woman who he was to be wedded to, and he was sure Venus knew that as well.

“The Queen is very kind. I thought she disliked a lot of people, so I was shocked when she started up a conversation with me.” Venus made conversation to fill the void of silence between her and the Prince as they swayed to the classical music.

Harry lightly scoffed to himself. “She’s the Queen, could do anything she wants.”

“She told me the plan, and I will happily be your wife, Your Highness, an honor really.” Her voice was light and hopeful. Harry knew that she was a kind woman and anyone would jump at the chance to marry into royalty, but he couldn’t deal with this, not right now. Not when you’re standing feet away, containing your pain. Harry pulled away swiftly from Venus’ hold, leaving her confused. “Your Highness?”

“I’m sorry, I-I can’t do this,” he told her before walking away and leaving her on the dance floor.

The Queen had watched the entire interaction, anger, and disappointment present on her face as she watched Harry walk away and out of the main ballroom. You were about to follow him out once you saw him frantically walk out, but you noticed the Queen quickly trailing behind him. Holding tightly onto your thumbs to contain the shakiness, you stayed put as your mind had begun to wonder if your boyfriend was okay or not.

You understood why he seemed upset and stormed off; dancing with someone who wasn’t your partner hurt just the same as watching it right in front of you. All you wanted to do was hide away with him, in each other’s arms forever, but that wasn’t reality.

Harry’s footsteps clicked against the tiled floor, walking in pure frustration as he tugged on his hair. Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes, a groan slipped from his mouth. He heard footsteps following behind him, and he already knew who those particular steps belonged to. Turning around to face what seemed like the devil itself, he inhaled deeply, holding his breath.

“What in God’s name are you doing? You left the poor girl hanging!” Elaine scolded, eyes piercing through him.

“Nan, I can’t do this. You can’t make me do this.” His eyes and voice pleaded, begged for mercy as he was asking for a favor as her grandson, not the Prince.

“And why may that be?” She tested. Harry’s mouth opened but quickly closed, refraining himself to say anything. The words were right at the tip of his tongue and he had told you that he would tell her everything, but when it came to the moment, anxiety and nerves got in the way. But it seemed like the Queen knew exactly what he was going to say because she spoke for him, saying, “Is it because of that girl out there who happens to be your personal guard? Y/N, is it?” Her voice had a hint of sarcasm, and that’s when Harry knew.

She knows, she knows everything.

“H-How did-”

“Oh, for god sake, Harry. Do you think I’m naive? Oblivious? It’s painfully obvious--the way you two look at each other, how you walk so closely next to each other, not to mention, the mornings in. You can’t tell me that every time you sleep in, she’s nowhere to be found too? Hmm?” Crossing her arms, she knew she defeated Harry. There was no way around it and no room for lying because she knew everything.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought it was a one time thing, the first time I noticed it--that it wouldn’t last long. But I’ve watched it happen for five years, and now that I’ve had limited time on this Earth, I didn’t want to see it anymore.” She shook her head in disappointment. “So, you will marry Venus,” she instructed sternly.

“I will not,” Harry bit back, holding his ground.

“You will do as I say-”

“Your Majesty!” Harry interrupted, his lip wobbling involuntarily. For a moment, Elaine had seen the seven-year-old Prince as he gave her big puppy eyes, pushing his bottom lip out as he begged. For a moment, she was about to give in to his wishes, disagreeing to be wedded to a woman he had never met before tonight. If it were twenty years ago, she would have, but twenty-seven-year-old Harry didn’t have the same effect on her as he did two decades ago.

She loved her grandson, she did. As cruel and heartless as it was, her love for him had begun to slowly dissipate ever since he started dating you, making her a bit more harsh with him as it was a complete switch up from how she acted around him when he was younger.

“You are to be married to Venus next Saturday, and that is final,” she said in an unrelenting tone before she walked away, heading back into the main room without another look back at her heartbroken grandson.

Harry was left in the empty hallway on the verge of a full breakdown. His knees felt weak, about to give out from holding him up. Luckily, you entered the hallway, quickly walking towards Harry who looked completely stunned. The bottom of your shoes clicked loudly against the quiet hallway.

You placed your hands on the side of his face, frantically worrying. “Harry, baby? What’s wrong? What happened?”

He finally exhaled the deep and big breath that he had been holding in since his conversation with the Queen. The absence of your presence had made his breath shudder as he quite frankly couldn’t breathe properly when you weren’t around.

His legs gave out as he couldn’t properly stand, and without warning, he collapsed, but you had caught him as you quickly placed your arms under his underarms, trying your best to pull him up. But his deadweight had won, bringing you both to the floor. You caught his fall, somehow maneuvering yourself to be placed behind him, so he wouldn’t completely fall on his back. Sitting in between your legs, he turned himself in your hold, burying his head in your neck as he began to sob. Tears soaked your skin as they slid smoothly down to your shirt, dampening the piece of clothing. His hot breath hit your skin as he bawled his eyes out, holding your top tightly between his fist, wrinkling your perfectly ironed white shirt.

His wails broke your heart, and you had no clue as to what happened prior to getting this reaction out of him, but it must have been something horrible; something the Queen had said to him as you saw her walk into the ballroom just before you walked out. You only assumed it had something to do with the arranged marriage that she mentioned earlier this week.

“Baby…please, you’re scaring me,” your voice was shaky, anxious as to what the reasoning for his breakdown was. Your fingers threaded through his chestnut curls, comforting him in a way you only knew how to do.

Harry’s breath stuttered as he sniffled, catching his breath as he calmed down a bit before he spoke. “S-She knows.” Your breath had hitched in your throat, heart dropping to your stomach. The Queen knows everything, constantly replayed over in your mind like a broken record. “She knew from the very start of o-our relationship that’s why she started to become so harsh and short with me.” Your heart broke for Harry as he spoke about his grandmother, and you couldn’t help but think that you were the one that caused the Queen’s unpleasant tone with the Prince. “But I am to still be married to the woman in the ballroom. She scheduled it for next Saturday,” he added as his voice cracked towards the end.

His words were echoing in your head, and it only added fuel to your terrible nightmare. You thought you had time, time to convince Elaine that your relationship with Harry was serious and that you loved him. But you’re starting to think that Elaine didn’t care if he was happy or in love, that she was doing this completely out of spite.

“W-What are we gonna do, Y/N?” Harry needed your words—he needed your console, your reassurance that everything was going to be alright.

But this time, you didn’t have an answer.

Your footsteps were the only thing that were heard as you walked through the dark and quiet hallway, leading up to the Queen’s office. She had asked one of her guards to tell you that she requested to see you after breakfast, and your thoughts had been running ever since. This had been the first time the Queen would speak a word to you; the other times had been full of her ignoring your greetings as you curtsied politely.

You asked Harry if she knew if he knew what she was going to say to him, but he just shook his head no. Rightfully so, he’s been in quite a gloomy mood, but he’d been more clingy than ever since this was most likely your last week together. You tried not to think about how Harry was to be married to another woman at the end of the week, and that only led to crying into your pillow until the early hours of the morning; Harry’s been the same, maybe even worse.

With a shaky hand, you knocked on the door; not too hard but not too soft either. You gulped as you heard Elaine say ‘Enter’ from the other side of the door. Nervously opening the door, you were faced with the Queen sitting in her chair with her hands linked together as she rested them against her desk.

“Your Majesty.” You curtsied, anxiously looking at her for some sort of approval, but all she did was gesture for you to sit down.

Once you were sitting rather uncomfortably on the edge of the seat, she stared at you for a moment, looking at you up and down as her glare was rather deadly. You tried not to fidget or anxiously bounce your leg, but her eyes were probing into your soul, and you were afraid of how she may react if you disconnected your eyes from her.

“I assume you know why you’re here?” She started. You nodded lightly, not saying a word. “I don’t appreciate you and my grandson going behind my back to have this…affair of yours, especially for years. First, did you think nobody would find out? You’re in the Royal House, everyone reports things back to me when they see something suspicious, so don’t think you were all that sneaky. Second, Harry’s a Prince, you’re a…guard.” She said with much emphasis on your title. “Did you think it was going to work out? I mean, he’s a Prince.” She added a bit of a scoff at the end, but her tone was stern.

“My apologies for going behind your back, Your Majesty.” You hadn’t a clue on what to say to her other than to apologize because there was no reason for lying only to make the situation worse.

“Hmm. You see, Prince Harry is to be married in four days. That means you are no longer in relations with him, and since you’ve disrespected me and my family, you are no longer needed in the Royal House. You are to be packed by Saturday, and you’ll never go close to my family ever again—more importantly, the Prince. Understood?” She instructed unsympathetically.

Your breath was stuck in your throat, your stomach in knots, and your heart didn’t feel like it was beating anymore. You were absolutely crushed. The thought of not seeing Harry anymore frightened you; you didn’t want to do life without him. You needed him, and unknowing to the Queen, he needed you too.

“I asked if you understood,” she said, wanting a vocal answer to seal the deal.

Slowly, you nodded your head. “Yes, I understand, Your Majesty.”

Elaine leaned back in her chair. “Very well. You may leave now.”

You got up, making your way out of her office, closing the heavy door before you let out a wracking sob, chest heaving up and down. You quickly made your way to your room, covering your mouth to contain the volume of your cries. The fee staff that you passed by had called out for you, asking what was wrong, but you ignored their calls, heading straight to your room where you locked the door and cried into your pillow, just as you had for the past few days. Your heart broke into a million pieces for yourself and for Harry, and you didn’t know how you would ever recover.

As you were talking with the Queen. The Duchess had found Harry lingering around Elaine’s office, pacing back and forth as well as pressing his ear up against the door.

“Harry? What are you doing?” Anne asked worriedly.

“Mum, please. I need you.” Tears streamed down his face, and Anne’s heart broke as she saw her son so heartbroken. All of the rules Elaine had instructed Anne to do on how to raise her children, like completely stop showing her kids affection, had completely torn in half. And just like that, her child needed her.

Anne quickly took Harry into her arms, and Harry sobbed into her shoulder, hugging her tightly. “There, there, my darling. You’re alright.” She rubbed his back soothingly. “What’s wrong?”

Harry pulled back. “Uh, Y/N—she's in there with Nan. Mum, she knows everything.” Anne’s eyes widened. “We’ve kept it in for so long, why now?” Harry choked in between his words as his cries had heightened.

Anne looked at Harry with a defeated face. She’s always known about his relationship with you ever since the beginning. A quite fresh six months into the relationship, Anne had caught you two running around in the courtyard under the moonlight, past curfew hours. Harry suggested sneaking out because that was the only time you two had alone, so you hesitantly said yes without thinking about getting caught. Sure enough, you two did get caught by the Duchess. You relentlessly apologized to his mum, saying you won’t pass curfew hours anymore, but Anne simply just smiled, telling you two to be more careful next time because it could’ve been the Queen who had caught you.

As Harry’s mother, she understood the importance of wanting him to live his life the way he wanted to. She always encouraged that he could be whoever he wanted to be, and she would always be there to support it. She didn’t want to tell him who to love or who to marry because that decision should be completely up to him. And throughout the years, she’d seen how much love he has for you while that same love was also being reciprocated. That’s all she wanted for him—someone who would love and cherish him.

“I don’t know what to say, darling. Maybe you could talk to her?” Anne suggested, caressing Harry’s arms.

“I-I tried before, but she just brushed past me. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” Frustration was clearly going through Harry’s body as he pulled on his hair, something he does when he’s anxious and frustrated because he was somewhat in control over it.

“C’mon, let’s go into the living room.” She grabbed his arm, leading him out of the hallway, but he pulled back.

“But…”

“She’ll go to you when she needs to. The last thing you need is getting caught lingering around when I’m sure the Queen doesn’t want you two being around one another.”

Anne was right; a mother does know best. Following her wishes, he nodded, trailing behind his mother and out of the hallway, away from his poor girl who was being confronted by the Queen.

It was Friday night, and you had just zipped up the last of your luggage. Your room was empty, and it pained your heart that it was your last night at the Royal House, the last time you would ever see Harry.

You were due to be out of the Royal House by seven a.m and off Royal grounds at nine in the morning; there was a boat scheduled for everyone visiting the grounds to departure at nine, and you would be on your way to God knows where, but far away from the one person who had your heart.

Harry’s wedding was to be scheduled quite early in the morning, around eight-thirty, or so you’d heard from the staff. The entire staff had no clue of your leave, except a few of the guards that were going to escort you out of the Royal House and to the docks. The Queen had bumped into you in the hallways and specifically instructed you to not tell anyone that you were leaving because she was going to tell them that you resigned if they asked. You simply had no energy to argue, to disagree with her choice, so you nodded, not saying a word.

You sat on the edge of your bed, completely drained physically and emotionally, and the one thing on your mind was to go to sleep—sleep and Harry, your dearest Harry who you hoped was okay. You got ready for bed mindlessly as a numbness fell throughout your body. You couldn’t feel anything but pain, and the suffering you’d endured for the past week had overwhelmed your mind and body, leaving you dazed.

Your heart pounded through your ears with every movement as it started to make you feel dizzy, so you laid down on your side, facing the wall while you hugged your pillow tightly while your hand was wrapped around your gold necklace Harry had gifted you. Shutting your eyes, you forced your mind to go to sleep.

A few moments passed by, and due to your ears ringing, you didn’t hear your bedroom door open and close. But you did feel the edge of your twin bed dip down, making you open your eyes in startelement as the figure behind you engulfed you into their arms, and you immediately relaxed.

Sighing deeply, a few tears shed from your eyes, feeling relief from the pair of arms around you; you hadn’t felt his arms around you since Tuesday, the day you talked to the Queen. You also hadn’t seen him since Tuesday because after your meeting with Elaine, she had found Harry, telling him to stay away from you. Many arguments had come out of his mouth, but Elaine immediately shut him down after that, sternly telling him that he was to never speak to her that way again. Knowing that Harry would break the rule of not seeing you, Elaine ordered for you to not cross the boundary of the West and East Wing as she knew you wouldn’t break her rules.

The feeling of being this close to one another after three days was such a relief, and it almost felt wrong because of the Queen’s wishes, but you simply couldn’t care less because you were in the arms of the person you adored.

Turning around to face him, you were immediately greeted with a loving ‘I missed you so damn much’ kiss. His lips glided over yours smoothly, but rushed, desperate to feel your touch as his arms never loosened around your frame, needing your body close.

“Hi, Princess,” he said breathlessly once he pulled away.

You kissed the tip of his nose, making him blush. “Your Highness, how are you?” You asked concerningly.

“Was doing horrible without you, but right now, I’m just happy to see you, happy to be in your bed.” You softly smiled, pecking his lips.

You were also happy to have him in your bed. He’d only snuck out of his room to sleep in your bed a handful of times, but he could easily say that it’s the best bed he’s ever slept on because your scent was all over the sheets as well as your body being pressed up against his due to the lack of space you two had. You’d tease him, saying that you were baffled he would rather leave his king-size bed for your small one, but he would charm your pants off and come back with how he liked your small bed better because that meant you would be closer to him the entire night. A charmer, he is.

A silence fell over you both, simply just looking and taking one another’s presence in. You had both memorized every inch of each other’s face throughout the entirety of your friendship and relationship—every mark, mole, crease, and wrinkle was ingrained into your mind as it was your fear that you would forget how your handsome Prince looked like—but this time, it was different. You two were looking at one another, so neither of you would actually forget what the other looked liked because you wouldn’t be able to see him again.

You lowered your eyes to your neck, stopping yourself from crying, but it seemed like your tears and emotion for the best of you. A small sniffle came out of you and Harry pouted, bringing you into his chest and holding you tightly.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you said against his skin.

“C’mon…” Harry said with slight annoyance, lightly scoffing as he was in disbelief of what you were saying.

“I mean it, I’m really gonna miss you.” You pulled your head out of his chest, looking up at him.

He shook his head as tears formed in his eyes. His heart was breaking more than it already had, and it upset him how much you were letting all of this happen—accepting it, more like.

“Don’t do this.” He looked deeply into your eyes, brows furrowed; you could tell that he looked frustrated and offended, but you didn’t know what you could do to make your situation better, so you shrugged your shoulders in defeat.

“There’s nothing else for me to do, Harry. I don’t know what you want me to do. I don’t want you to resent me for not being close to your grandmother when she’s practically on her deathbed.” He pulled away from you, laying on his back as he looked up at the ceiling fan, hoping if he looked long enough, he would be hypnotized into another life—a life where it involved just the two of you. But he was still in your room and his realities were still coming true. “I don’t know what you want me to do,” you added.

“Don’t accept the fact that we’re not gonna see each other again!” He whisper-yelled, trying to keep his voice down, still not making eye contact with you. How could he ever resent you? For most of his life, you’d made him the happiest—ever since you two were kids, you would always find a reason to put a smile on his face and get out of bed in the morning.

You sighed deeply, closing your eyes. This wasn’t how you wanted your last night to go, and you could understand why he was frustrated, but you really didn’t know what he wanted you to do because there wasn’t anything you could do.

He turned his head towards you, seeing that you were closing your eyes, exhaling through your nose deeply. He turned his whole body to lay on his side, facing you before bringing his hand to your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb. You opened your eyes once you felt his cold touch, chills rose onto your skin as you looked at him through your glassy and sad eyes; a look that broke his heart.

“I’m sorry for raising my voice, my Princess. I’m just…angry and sad.” He lowered his eyes, feeling subdued.

“It’s okay, I understand. I just don’t know what to do to make this situation any better, but we have to accept that this is our ending. And it may not be ‘happily ever after’ for the two of us, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop loving you.” He nodded as he took in your words.

“Just…hold me, yeah? Until you have to l-leave.” His voice cracked at the end of his sentence, finding it rather difficult to accept the fact that you won’t be on the same grounds as him anymore.

You nodded, closing the inch of space, and wrapping your arms around him. As your face was pressed against his chest, Harry’s chin rested on the top of your head as you two held one another. It was a surreal but heartbreaking moment, but the two of you cherished the last several hours you had with one another.

You lifted your head up, only to be met with his chin, and you pressed a kiss along with the sharpness of his stubble jaw; Harry sighed in relief. You hooked your leg around his waist, pulling him closer than he already was, and trailed your lips to his neck, sucking and licking his soft skin. Harry groaned, involuntarily bucking his hips into yours as the feel of your lips had that much of an effect on him.

Shifting upwards so you were face-to-face, you looked in his eyes momentarily, taken back by his beauty. He was so immensely beautiful that he quite literally took your breath away. He almost didn’t seem real, so tangible, but he was definitely a sight. You’ve had a crush on him for more than a decade, and not once had it minimized into something frivolous or vanished; you hadn’t doubted your love for him and you never would. You were always going to have a crush on the Prince until the day you took your last breath when you would think about giving him one last kiss goodbye.

Connecting your lips together, you felt like you were home. The peace his lips provided made you melt with every kiss, every single time his tongue glided over yours, or when he bit your bottom lip and pulled back a bit—just being connected to Harry physically and emotionally made you feel secure, and you couldn’t ask for anything more in life because you would be too greedy.

In the midst of moving your lips in sync with his, he traced his tongue against your bottom lip, making you open your mouth, a moan leaving your lips. His tongue met yours, swirling and tasting one another as the grip you had on one another had stiffened, pulling each other closer. With your hips slightly grinding against his, the breathy moans that left his mouth, and Harry’s lips perfectly and gracefully kissing yours, the electrifying feeling was more powerful than ever. The spark ran down your back, making you want more as chills ran down the course of your body. You would always want more when it came to Harry; he had that appeal where he would leave everyone wanting for more, but luckily, you were the only one he would be giving it to.

You pulled away, completely breathless by his soft and pink lips before you whispered, “Want you, please.” Your eyes were pleading with him to do anything to your body as you just wanted to feel his touch, his body against yours.

“Sure?” He asked as he always did before you two ever had sex, and you appreciated the thought because it really showed how true of a gentleman that he was before he fucked you relentlessly into the mattress.

“Mhm. Give it to me…one last time,” you sighed, curling your lips into your mouth as your fingers pushed away the curl that fell onto his forehead.

He shook his head softly, disapproving of your choice of words. “Okay,” he responded, brushing off your statement as he gave you another kiss, unable to get enough of your sweet, cherry-flavored lips.

Soft kisses were pressed against your cheek, trailing down your neck as he gave you a love bite; you threw your head back into the pillow, allowing him more access to your neck. His hands found the hem of your baby pink silk nightgown, bunching the soft fabric up to your waist as he held your thigh up to his waist, softly grinding his pelvis into yours.

You sat up and raised your arms straight up before Harry took the chance to peel your nightgown off of your body and on the floor. You laid back down, completely naked, besides the necklace that rested perfectly on your skin, as his eyes bored into you, admiring your figure and being quite mesmerized by you as he always was. Your room was dark besides the soft glow of the moonlight that peeked through the window and casted down at your body, giving Harry a clear and beautiful vision of you.

“So beautiful, my love. Take my breath away every single time I look at you,” he said softly. You shyly smiled under his state, finding it quite intimidating for a moment.

Harry raised his arms and reached behind his head to take off his shirt, showcasing his tattoos that you’ve traced, counted, and kissed plenty of times throughout the years. His inked skin was something you loved most about him because despite being Royal blood, he still wanted to be himself—not someone people assumed he was as if they’d figured out his entire life and personality. Just Harry.

He was outright the most stunning man you’d ever laid your eyes on. You were sure there would be no one like him because there was only one Harry that you loved, only one person that you loved.

You reached your hands out for him, and Harry slowly placed his weight on you. His lips sucked and licked the swell of your breasts and nipples, giving each the same amount of attention. You grabbed his face, bringing it up to your lips as you missed them.

He molded his lips with yours for a few moments, enjoying your touch before you briskly flipped the two of you over so you were on top now.

Harry smirked, hands immediately finding their way to your waist. “My girl wants to be on top, hmm?” You nodded as you began to take his striped pajama pants off; his cock was hard, sitting against his lower abdomen. You leaned down, licking one long stripe from the base to the tip, earning a raspy moan from your Prince before kissing up his body, making sure to leave a few love bites so he had something to remember you by in the morning on his wedding day. Call it petty if his new wife would see them tomorrow on their night as newlyweds, but rightfully so, he was yours and you had his heart first.

You reached his neck, littering his skin as you sucked and licked. “Wanna feel you deep. Can you sit up, please?”

“Always so polite. Of course, I can.” He sat up against the headboard, and you pressed your body against his as his cock laid perfectly between your folds. You could practically feel your arousal dripping onto his hard-on, so you slowly started to grind against his hard length as you feverishly kissed him.

A throaty moan came out of both of you as your hands desperately held onto one another, grabbing whatever you both can to really feel each other.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Need to feel you.”

“Look who’s being so polite now, huh,” you teased, and Harry giggled. He loved being able to giggle and tease one another during the intimate times you two had together; it made things fun and less serious as you two were able to be yourselves around each other.

You sat on your knees to raise your hips before you licked your hand and grabbed a hold of his cock, giving him a few pumps before you lined him up with your entrance. Slowly sinking down on him, your walls hugged him tightly as he graciously filled you up. After five years, he still filled your walls and stretched you out as his thick and long size was something you still had to adjust to. A soft moan left both of your lips once you were fully on him, keeping yourself there for a moment.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Could stay like this for as long as possible,” he breathed out.

You softly smiled. “Give me a moment. Always gonna need to adjust to you, just so big.” You praised him for endeavors, knowing he liked being praised; and he smirked.

“All for you,” he breathed out, making you smile.

After a minute or two, you started to move up and down on him, raising your hips until only his tip was inside of you before sinking back down, taking him in fully. He always hit that special spot in this position; with just one thrust, it had you moaning his name out like there was no tomorrow.

You squeezed around him, making him throw his head back onto the headboard as he started to guide your hips that were working on grinding and bouncing onto him. Your movements began to pick up, finding a rhythm as you swiveled and grinded on his cock, feeling on edge already.

His mouth attacked your tits as his hands squeezed and slapped your ass, leaving a red mark onto your skin, but you loved it, you always did. You wrapped your arms around your neck, hugging his face to your chest as he hugged your waist, keeping you close while kissing the valley of your breasts.

His hands gripped your hips, pushing you down so you would stop your movements. You looked down in confusion as big doe eyes looked up at you. Pushing his hair back and scratching his scalp, you gave him a small smile, kissing his lips fully.

“W-What’s wrong?” You asked once you pulled back from his lips, your voice soft and tender.

“Just…wanna make this last longer.”

You nodded, agreeing. “Okay.” You didn’t continue your movements after that, just simply staying seated on him, keeping him warm as he was tucked in away with your softness and warmth of your velvety walls.

“I’ll love you forever, y’know that, right? Not gonna love another soul again,” he confessed sadly.

“I know that, and I love you more than life itself. But baby, you’re getting married—spending the rest of your life with someone. You’ve ought to love her someday.” As hard as it was for you to tell him that he could love someone else, you knew that it was inevitable for him to catch feelings, especially for his new wife.

He shook his head in disagreement. “No, no. I can’t do that, even if you’re telling me to love someone else, I physically and emotionally cannot open up my heart to someone who isn’t you.” His eyes were glassy; the moonlight still made his gorgeous green eyes sparkle.

“I know, I know.” You lovingly placed a kiss onto his forehead, lingering your lips onto his skin for a moment as his fingers trailed down your spine. “Just know that I’m gonna love you forever, too.”

“Yeah?” He asked, smiling slightly; you nodded. “Please do. Need your love,” he sniffled, a tear slowly streaming down the side of his face.

You wiped it away, leaning down to kiss his nose and lips. “Need your love too. Can you feel mine? Can you feel my love?” You asked as you began to start moving your hips.

A throaty moan left Harry’s lips as he nodded. “Yeah, I can feel it all over. Feel it everywhere—never want to not feel it.” He gripped your hips hard, squeezing the flesh as you whimpered.

Slowly bouncing on him, you started to revive your orgasm as you started to whine and mewl, desperate to get there. Your thighs were shaking and burning from being on top and grinding on him for so long, and Harry started to see that as your movements slowed down and you had to take a few breaks.

“Tired?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, I got you, baby. Let me love you.” He shifted down so he was on his back and your body was pressed up against his. “Let me take care of you.” You nodded softly, burying your face into his neck, hiding away from him as you whispered from the movement.

Harry planted his feet on the bed, bucking his hips and fucking up into you; it wasn’t fast, no, it was slow but his thrusts were hard. He was so deep that you felt the electrifying shock run down to your toes, making you curl them in. Hot breath hit his skin as you moaned out his name before he felt your lips continuously kissing, sucking, and licking his neck.

“My Princess. My dream girl. Gonna love you forever. Gonna miss you, gonna miss this.” His voice cracked, hugging you tightly to his chest as he continued to thrust up into you. “Please, let me feel you,” he pleaded for your release.

His cock was hitting your special spot as you were very close. After a few more thrusts, a few more moans, and a few more words that effortlessly slipped out of Harry’s mouth as he encouraged you to find your pleasure, you let go. Your beautiful sounds were muffled from the pillow and the way you buried your face into the crook of his neck. You were quite overwhelmed as you began to sob, a quarter of your distress was because of how powerful your orgasm was, but most of it was because of how empty you would feel when you had left the Royal Grounds tomorrow morning, and how you wouldn’t see Harry anymore.

Harry continued to fuck you, riding your high out before he spilled into you, loud and raspy moans slipped filled your ear as he moaned your name and how much he loved you.

Once he calmed down, the room was in absolute silence beside the sounds of the gut-wrenching sobs that came from you. You were incredibly sensitive and emotional as you held onto him tight, Harry still inside of you. His heart was breaking as he started to quietly cry with you, which caught your attention, so you lifted your head up to face him. Witnessing Harry crying wasn’t your favorite sight to see; it pained you to see him so upset, and you wanted to take his pain away and keep it to yourself so he would be happy.

“No matter what…” you started, stroking his cheek tenderly. “I’m gonna love you. And even though I’m not going to be physically next to you, you’re still gonna have my heart and you’ll feel how much I love you. Just…remember that, please?”

Harry nodded. “And you’ll have my heart,” he reciprocated.

“Mhm, and I’ll guard your heart for the rest of my life.”

He pecked your lips sweetly. “I know you know this, but you’re my ship. You’re the thing that brings me home safely and securely while I lay out in the sun for hours and be completely content and happy with life. And no matter what storm you, or we, encounter, you’re always able to guide us to a brighter part of the Earth. And for that, I will love you forever. Got you inked on my skin permanently and I will cherish the memories and the love you have given me for the past twenty years.”

His proclamations had you in tears, sniffling throughout his words. You knew how difficult it was for him to say those words because it meant that he was accepting his reality.

You captured his lips in with yours, sobbing and shaking against them as you cried, holding onto one another for dear life as you two only existed in each other’s arms—forgetting about the outside world. Your heart had sunk so far into your stomach, making your insides feel like they were in knots. Harry had been your safety net for so long, your source of happiness and love. But now, he was going to be added to the list of people that you had lost; the first two being your parents.

The three most important people in your life had sailed a ship far away from you and you weren’t able to see them anymore. Maybe in another lifetime, but right now, you needed them.

It was quite ironic how Harry thought you were his ship, something that kept him afloat and content when all you felt was the numbness, the pain, and the sinking of your heart, making the depth of the ocean feel so inviting.

A shake on his shoulder had woken an exhausted Harry up. Inhaling deeply before letting out a groan, he opened his eyes to be met with the day ahead of him. If it were any other day, he would be met with his love, looking at him so lovingly and sweetly as you would beg him to get out of bed, but he would pull you to get in the covers with him before spending half an hour of making giggly and sweet love in the morning.

But today wasn’t any other ordinary day…it was his wedding day, and the person waking him was Anne, sadly smiling down at him as she wore a rather beautiful lilac gown. He looked at her confusingly before taking a look around the room; he was in your room and that’s when he recalled the night prior. You two fell asleep holding onto one another, whispering lovely words into one each other’s ear, pretending that the next wasn’t happening so you two could be Y/N and Harry.

“Morning, darling. I see you’ve made your way in here last night.”

Harry sat up, looking down at his body; he was fully clothed, and he smiled to himself at how thoughtful you were to put his clothes back on. But his smile quickly disappeared when he took a clear look around the room. Your belongings were gone and the luggage that was packed wasn’t there anymore. A piece of him felt like it was ripped out of his chest, leaving him to suffer and sleep through the nightmare.

He sighed deeply, chin meeting his chest. “She’s really gone, Mum.”

Anne didn’t say anything but nod. She rubbed Harry back comfortingly as she kissed his forehead. She’s never seen her son so heartbroken before; sure, she’s had to distance herself from him, but she was always observant of Harry. She noticed that whenever he walked into every room, he had a smile on his face and that was because he was laughing at something you had said or blew him a kiss that made him flustered. So, Harry being so sad and heartbroken was a new kind of Harry that she will have to encounter because for most of his life, he was always happy, never had a complaint in his life, and that was because he had you.

“She left you this.” Anne presented a white envelope, which made his eyes widen, but he immediately took it from her hands. The front of the envelope wrote Your Highness with a heart at the end, making his heart flutter. He looked up at his mother and she smiled at him, caressing his face before planting a kiss on his cheek. “Be quick to read that. The Queen is still expecting you to be married today,” she sighed. “You have to be ready soon—the ceremony starts in an hour. Be out of this room before anyone else catches you.” Anne walked towards the door, and before she walked out, she called out for him, making Harry lift his head up. “Everything’s going to be fine. Trust me.”

With that being said, she left your empty room, leaving him with the letter in his hands and your scent that swirled around the room, making him miss your presence even more.

His hands shook as he carefully opened the envelope—you even spritzed some of your perfume that he loves so much as he brought the paper to his nose. Unfolding it, the letter was quite long—the entire page—and Harry could feel himself already getting emotional over it, but he read it anyway.

My sweetest Harry,

I am writing this in the early hours of the morning as you’re sleeping peacefully in my bed, hugging my pillow. You look so peaceful when you sleep, did you know that? Besides the occasional snoring, which I don’t mind because you know that I’m a snorer myself, you have this sense of calmness to you when you sleep. It makes me not want to wake you up in the mornings sometimes because you look like you’re at complete peace. But then I miss you too much and want your kisses so eventually, I do wake you up.

I’m going to miss that, waking you up, and having a morning to ourselves where we get to be us. But I’m also going to miss all the other times we get to spend together. In the car on our way to events, in the courtyard running around like we’re kids, midnight strolls under the moonlight, and sneaky makeout sessions when you would pull me into a random room in the Royal House.

I’m going to miss every single moment.

It pains me that I am no longer by your side and we had to part this way. I’ve never felt so heartbroken in my life before, and I thought I wouldn’t ever get to feel this type of agony because I was with you. And we promised to not hurt each other, no matter what. But I’m proud of us because we kept our promise until the very end. We never hurt each other—we always talked it out and never left one another to fight one’s own battles. We were such a great team. The best team.

You’re everything to me, Harry. My whole entire heart belongs to you, and it will always be yours as long as you hold onto it and keep it safe. Thank you for protecting my heart since we were kids. Thank you for always being there for me in a blink of an eye. You’ve truly helped me get me back on my feet when my father passed, and for that, I don’t know how to thank you enough. I felt like I'd lost the fight when he passed and I didn’t know what I was going to do, but then you reminded me that you were by my side, and for that, we won.

It has truly been an honor to know you. To be in your presence. But to be in your heart is the greatest gift that I’ve ever received because you love like no other. There will be no other that’ll compete against you. It will always be you.

My lips will remember the way you love, the way you taste. Your lips are my favorite, and I smile every single time I feel your touch because it’s quite unforgettable.

You are my heart, my sun, my lover, my best friend, my dream boy, and my forever Prince that I will love for the rest of eternity.

Thank you for loving me. Thank you for letting me into your heart, Your Highness.

Yours forever,

Y/N.

With his face slightly damped from the tears that streamed down his cheeks while his eyes were swollen and red, he cried into his hands once he finished reading your letter a third time in a row. The feeling in his chest felt like it was physically tearing him apart as it was difficult to catch his breath, gasping for air through his sobs.

All he wanted to do was to hug you, hold onto you for the rest of his life, and he would be completely satisfied with everything. But you were soon to be on a boat, sailing away from Royal Grounds, further away from him.

He looked down at the piece of paper, making sure to not wrinkle the last physical piece he had of you. You signed your name off with a heart at the end, admiring your handwriting that he never failed to compliment every time you would handwrite him a note. Bringing the paper to his lips, he kissed your name briefly, exhaling heavy breaths through his nose before pulling away and safely putting it back into the envelope.

His heart grieved for you two because neither of you deserved this consequential punishment that broke you two apart.

Standing at the altar in front of hundreds of people wasn’t something Harry imagined his wedding to be like. He pictured his guest list to be quite small, only the people he truly loved and appreciated. It definitely wouldn’t have been in a large venue that held six figures worth of art. And it wouldn’t have been Venus walking down the aisle, meeting him in a white long gown with a veil covering her face.

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as he felt slightly guilty. Harry knew it wasn’t his fault as to why he’s standing here, but he would have never thought he would ever be standing at the altar without you walking towards him. You two had talked about getting married and the wedding itself so many times that, naturally, it was the norm. Neither of you were scared of getting married to one another, so there was no need to worry about the other running away from the idea or the relationship.

You always talked about wanting to get married in a garden where there would be bushes of flowers surrounding the area, giving the scene a pop of color. You two agreed on only wanting about fifteen to twenty people, most of the guests would come from Harry’s family and friends, and you would invite some of the staff that you had gotten quite close to throughout your life of living in the Royal House. You would ask Maria to walk you down the aisle as you wore a light champagne dress with hints of gold embedded into the dress; you always told Harry you didn’t want to wear a traditional white wedding dress because you would be too afraid to stain it, especially if you were going to walk on the grass. Harry didn’t mind one bit as long as you were the one walking down the aisle towards him; he would be the happiest man on Earth.

But now as he watched Venus make her way towards him, this wasn’t the magical night he dreamed of ever since you two got together, and he wished this was a dream so you could wake him up as soon as possible. But you didn’t because it wasn’t a dream, and he realized that when he shook Venus’ father’s hand, giving her daughter away to marry the Prince as she was soon to become a Princess.

Harry and Venus stood in front of each other as she held his hands tightly, feeling that she needed to hold up his hands because he wasn’t holding onto her at all. Venus nervously gulped as she looked at the Prince; he wasn’t making eye contact with her nor the Priest. He was looking down at his shoes and the doors that she had entered as if he was impatiently waiting for someone to burst through those doors as he didn’t listen to a word of what the Priest had said.

“Harry, do you take thee, Venus, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, til death do you part?”

The moment was finally here as Harry blinked his tears away, knowing two words were going to change his whole entire life.

Your heart was beating fast as you struggled to hold onto your belongings with your two arms. You rolled two suitcases that sunk their wheels through every crack of the wooden and old dock as you walked; your duffel bags took every other bump, struggling to remain on your luggage, making you stop once again to place it back in its rightful spot. Towards the side of the dock was a schedule on what time the faerie was arriving for departure, and you had about twenty minutes to spare if there were no delays.

It was a quite gloomy day—unfortunate that Harry had to have this kind of weather on his wedding day, but maybe that was Mother Nature’s way of expressing her sadness with you.

You looked at your small gold watch on your left wrist—an accessory your father had given you when you turned eighteen as he told you it was your mother’s and that she used to wear it all the time. The small watch made her feel powerful, independent, and a grown woman who had grown up from the beaded bracelets she used to make when she was younger. It was a piece of your mother that you got to keep with you wherever you went, so you cherished it with your whole heart.

When it was nearing T-minus 5 minutes, you gathered your bags and headed towards the boat where every passenger crowded around. There were quite a few people and you hoped that the boat ride off the Royal Grounds was a quiet and smooth sailing ride because with the headache you’re enduring from crying and your heartbreak, you needed silence.

One of the members of the faerie stood on the edge of the boat with a megaphone raised to his lips. “Attention! People who are boarding for the nine o’clock departure heading West of the Royal Grounds. We seem to have noticed a last-minute complication with the engine, which will delay us for about another thirty minutes. We will update you all if we need to switch boats, but for now, hang tight and hang around. Visit the Royal gift shop and get yourself a crown!” He finished his announcement as everyone groaned as you chuckled at everyone’s reaction. You didn’t mind the delay because it meant that you got to stay on the same ground as Harry for a bit longer, even though you weren’t able to see him.

You headed towards a bench that overlooked the ocean and set your bags close by you as you grabbed an apple from your tote that you snatched from the kitchen on your way out of the Royal House. There were little kids running around with balloons in their hands while their parents tried to chase them, telling them to be careful or they’ll fall off the dock.

Suddenly, a little boy jogged towards you, nearly startling you. “Hello, are you Y/N?”

You raised your brows, leaning your arms on your thighs as you wondered how he knew your name. “Why, yes, I am. And who might you be?” You asked in a friendly tone.

“I’m Russell. This is for you.” He handed you a bouquet of a gorgeous arrangement of daisies.

“These are lovely, thank you! Did you pick these out yourself?”

“No, I didn’t. I was told to give them to you. Your husband wanted me to give it to you!” He exclaimed excitedly.

“Really? And who might my husband be?” You amused him, not thinking seriously about his statement. But he suddenly pointed behind you, making you turn around in suspense.

There he was, your Prince, smiling down at you as you looked up at him in pure disbelief. He looked dashingly handsome in a silk hot pink blouse and a floral embroidered black suit that suited him very well. You took a moment to observe him, trailing your eyes down to his hands, only to find his left ring finger bare. His face looked too happy to be married to someone who wasn’t you, but his smile looked as if it was relieved as if his worst nightmare had come to an end. He was relaxed, the complete opposite of the trepidation that he held for weeks.

Your observation was coming to a conclusion, and once you realized what was happening, you matched his smile as you stood up.

“Your Highness,” you curtsied, making him giggle.

Before he could explain to you why he was standing in front of you with no security, he turned to the little boy who had helped him. “Russell, thank you for delivering the flowers to my wife.”

“Your welcome, Prince Harry!” The little boy bowed excitedly before running off to his mother who was waiting and watching on the sidelines.

Once Russell was safe with his mother, you turned back towards Harry. “Your wife, huh?” You raised your brows, teasing him as you masked your giddiness. You intertwined your hands behind yourself, containing yourself from reaching out and grabbing him.

“Yeah, my actual wife—someday—not the one that was walking towards me earlier.”

You smiled softly, still lost on why he’s in front of you. “What are you doing here?”

“I left. I ran away from the altar. I couldn’t do it, Princess. No matter how mad the Queen would be, I couldn’t marry that woman,” he explained. You exhaled in relief, tears pricking your eyes. “I felt guilty, y’know? Never have I imagined standing at the altar without you. It was…weird and I didn’t like it.”

“How did you even manage to do that? To run away?”

Harry slightly chuckled. “Mum helped me.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened as you were in shock.

“Yeah,” he answered, explaining to you what happened thirty minutes prior to him racing to the dock to find you.

When the Priest was reciting the vows, he waited on Harry’s promise to marry Venus. But Harry had turned his head to look at his mum before earning a nod of approval. He turned his head back to Venus, and she had some sort of look of understanding like she knew Harry clearly hadn’t signed up for this wedding—to marry her. Harry gave Venus a small smile that apologized for what he was about to do before turning to the Priest and telling him that he couldn’t do any of what he had said. The guests’ chatter had increased, some softly gasping as they wondered why the Prince wasn’t complying with the marriage.

He let go of Venus’ hands, heading towards Anne to give her a kiss on the cheek. Anne had sneakily handed him a pair of keys to one of the Rolls Royce cars, and he smiled in appreciation. He glanced at Elaine, not even bothering to say goodbye to his Nan, but Elaine had a few words herself, so she grabbed Harry’s wrists before he walked down the aisle.

“Walk out those doors, and you wouldn’t even be considered a Prince anymore, you are not allowed back on Royal Grounds if you walk out, and you are no longer going to be part of this family,” she warned, eyes piercing with such disappointment.

He gave Elaine one last look before yanking his arm out of her hold, which earned a loud gasp from the guests. Elaine looked around at the people who had watched the two, and she felt embarrassment heat up in her cheeks.

Once Harry walked out the doors, he jogged to the front of the Royal House where Gemma had closed the trunk. He took his sister into his arms, hugging her tightly and gratefully.

“Thank you, Gemma. For everything,” he said, giving her an extra squeeze. She patted his back before pulling away, giving him a smile.

“I’m proud of you, H. Now, go and get her. I’ve already flagged down the captain and told him to delay the boat for thirty minutes, so you should hurry before the other passengers start to fret. And the boat you two are going on should be ready by the time you’re there.”

He smiled. “Thank you, again. I’ll see you soon? I’ll call you from wherever I am.” She nodded, telling him to reach out soon. “You take care of yourself, alright? Don’t take shit from her. You and Sebastian deserve to be with each other.”

“I will. I won’t. And yes, we do,” she answered in the order Harry said, making him chuckle. “Now, go. You’re making her wait.” She patted his back once more before he got into the car.

With one last wave, he was off to the docks where the love of his life was waiting for him.

“So, here I am,” Harry said with a smile, arms opening as he presented himself. You smiled widely, giggling. You were still in shock how he simply gave up his family and his position to once rule the country for you. You knew he would do anything for you, but this was more than anything—this was leaving his family for good, walking away from being connected to royalty. And he left it all behind. For you.

“Here you are,” you breathed out a chuckle. “I can't believe you’re here. That you didn’t marry that woman.”

“You know I couldn’t do that. You’re the only one I want to marry, the only one I wanna see walk down the aisle, wearing a beautiful champagne gown.” You were slightly taken back, tears glazing your eyes; he remembered the small detail you had told him about not wanting to wear a traditional white dress to your wedding. “So, you’re not the Prince anymore, hmm?”

Harry shook his head. “Nope. Not gonna leave me to find another Prince, are you?” He joked, raising his brows. You playfully slapped his chest, but he caught your hand, bringing it up to his lips as he placed a chaste kiss on the back of your hand.

“Course not. I’ve had a Prince of my own for the past five years.” You unconsciously reached towards him to straighten his jacket. He pulled you forward by the hand that he was already holding, and your chest was pressed together against his with your faces inches away from one another as you looked up at him.

“Our six-year anniversary is coming up soon. How should we celebrate?”

“Hmm, now that we have all the time in the world, wanna go on vacation? I’ve been dying to go to Italy,” you suggested, and Harry’s eyes lightened up as if you had suggested the greatest idea ever.

“I would love that. Where in Italy are you thinking about? Because I’ve been thinking of the Amalfi Coast. Think about it…driving along the coast, cliff diving, swimming in the ocean. Sounds nice, huh?” You nodded your head at his plans.

“Sounds amazing. Maybe we could…get married there?” You suggested another plan hesitantly, testing the waters to see how he felt about it.

“You wanna get married? Next month?” You nodded your head. “Are you proposing?”

“Only if you say yes.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing his chin.

“You know I will.” A tint of pink hit his cheeks as he smiled down at you.

He leaned down to place a tender kiss on the tip of your nose, and when he pulled back, your eyes sparkled with such love and happiness—a gleam that he’s missed seeing in your eyes, and a gleam he would make sure was always there as long as you two were together.

“Well, in that case…Your Highness, my love, will you do the honor of becoming my husband in one month?” You asked with a hopeful and playful tone as you couldn’t contain your smile.

“Of course, my Princess. Wouldn't wanna be by anyone else,” he answered as you softly squealed.

Harry placed his hands on your jaw, gently bringing your face to his. His forehead rested against you as the tip of your noses touched, giving one another an Eskimo kiss. Your lips merely brushed together so delicately as you smiled once you felt his touch. With one last small touch, Harry kissed you with such passion and devotion as you two moved your lips in sync. The kiss spoke every beautiful and exquisite word in the dictionary that it wouldn’t be enough to describe how tenderly and passionate he kissed you, and how much love your heart held for him.

Neither of you cared if there were bystanders, wondering why the Prince was kissing someone in the middle of the Royal Grounds, in public. But there was not one hint of care because you two were together, and this kiss indicated what’s to come for the rest of your lifetime.

He pulled away, and you were so caught up in the sensation and the feeling that you didn’t realize that he had stopped kissing you. When you opened your eyes, you were met by your favorite green eyes that stared at you with a big smile on his face, dimple indenting his face.

“I love you so much, Princess, you have no idea.” His words were slow, hoping to engrave them into your mind so you wouldn’t forget it.

“And I love you, too, Your Highness.” He smiled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, too quick for your liking.

“Now, c’mon, we have a ship to catch.” Harry grabbed one of your bags as he held one of the duffle bags on his shoulder. He informed you that you two were going to take the family ship and that his belongings were already loaded on the ship.

You nodded, grabbing the other luggage and duffle bag. You turned around, taking a look back at the Royal House that peeked behind many buildings and trees. This was the end of the story, and it was time to start a new one. You were able to close the book and set it down while you reflect on the memories you had made in one house with the one person who had your heart.

Sure, you don’t know where you and Harry would be settling down; maybe you two would constantly move around and travel the world since neither of you got the chance to do so, but whatever the universe had in store for you both, you were glad to do it with Harry by your side.

“Hey, are you coming with or what?” Harry called out, making you turn around. A smile that was brighter than the sun was plastered on his face as his arm reached out in front of him, palm facing up, telling you that it was time to leave. That it was time to start a new life together.

You smiled, walking towards him as your eyes were glossy. Taking his hand and intertwining your fingers with his, he held your hand tight as you two crossed the ramp that was securely resting on the edge of the dock and the edge of the boat.

You leaned against the railing of the boat, looking out at the deep ocean that you once felt like you were drowning in. But once Harry’s arms wrapped around your waist, chest pressed up against your back while his lips attached to the skin behind your ear, you no longer felt like your ship was sinking. It was smooth sailing and immensely happy.

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