#i just think that a lot of taylor’s story is being written presently. every day.

[9w1ft]

sure, we could all focus on analyzing taylor’s work through the lens of queer history, but, why stop at analyzing history? ☺️ why not make it?

[thesinglesjukebox]

TAYLOR SWIFT - "I CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART"

Who's afraid of little old meh?

[5.25]

Hannah Jocelyn: Hey, she played something with a fucking beat! [6]

Alfred Soto: An obscenity-laden ode to being as fabulous as Taylor Swift in 2024, "I Can Do with a Broken Heart" is as confident as "My Name Is" and "Izzo (H.O.V.A.)." If the performance sounds cagier, even more tentative than the words and vocal track suggest, blame Jack Antonoff, whose mix turns the instrumental foundation into yesterday's mud. In all the ways in which I imagined Swift developing, "lyrics first" would not have topped my list. [5]

Jackie Powell: Part of why “Anti-Hero” remains one of the best songs Taylor Swift has ever written is that the melody is just as strong as the relatable story Swift tells. There’s relatability here too, but the melody is “made to fit the music, rather than the other way around,” an astute observation that Pitchfork’s Olivia Horn made in her review of The Tortured Poets Department. It annoys me that the kick drum that I can’t stop tapping my foot to doesn’t lead to the appropriate burst of emotion in the chorus. This is a song about the compartmentalizing and suppression of raw emotions, yet the hook feels matter-of-fact. Would these lyrics have been more potent if the melody wasn’t so stale? I know a lot of folks have been saying this, but it’s time for Swift to work with someone besides Jack Antonoff.  [5]

Alex Clifton: Witnessing the Eras Tour was an experience unlike any other. It’s an impressive feat of endurance, and it was surreal to know that 70,000 people (including me) had come to watch this one woman do her show. Every so often I had to remind myself: this is real, she’s actually doing all of this, she’s a real human being and yet I can’t think how she does this and has a life offstage. Well, now we know! As a commentary on the Eras Tour, fame, and the parasocial relationship Swift’s fans have with her, it’s pretty neat, and I like that she goes for the grimmer side of the glamour. She has every right to brag about her professionalism here; I can barely get out of bed on bad days, let alone put on a dazzling show. But sonically it’s just another Antonoff plinky-plonky-blippy collaboration; I definitely ignored it the first couple times I listened to Tortured Poets. To me that’s the biggest letdown: a song full of potential that doesn’t quite get to burst and sparkle the way it could. Instead it’s merely fine, 6/10, I don’t hate it but she’s done better. However, I deducted a point because while I try not to care who songs are about, knowing this is likely about Ratty Healy dampened it for me. He’s not worth wasting these kinds of feelings on! [5]

Jonathan Bradley: The public perception that Swift's oeuvre centers on lovers and feuds is eternal, yet a subject she has returned to throughout her career has been work, both as labor and as something to take pride in when it's done well. Work is different for a 34-year-old woman whose job has been songwriter and recording artist since she was 16, but she approaches her toil industriously. The subject has been present in her work since her debut, which had multiple tracks that used songwriting ("Tim McGraw," "Our Song") as a structural device, but she turned her attention to labor directly in 2010's "Long Live," which wielded the fairytale imagery of "Love Story" and "White Horse" to consider what it means to lead an enterprise — in this case, a touring band — and hope your combined efforts might build a creative legacy. "If you have children some day," she asked, casting her gaze into the far future. "Tell them how the crowds went wild." In 2024, the far future is now, and Swift is still working as a songwriter and a member of a touring band, and still conscious of the transcendence that promises and the dull effort required to achieve it. "I Can Do It With a Broken Heart" is a song about being a professional and executing her craft even while she's falling apart emotionally. "I am so productive," she promises, a one-woman economic stimulus package. She is condescending ("I'm a real tough kid") and callous to herself ("lights, camera — bitch, smile"), and offers her disintegrated person ("all the pieces of me shattered") to a public that demands and maybe deserves all of her. What do the thoughts and feelings of Little Old Her matter in the face of the Taylor Swift Industrial Complex? Yet it doesn't sound effortful; this is a party song, and heartbeat rhythm and accelerated tempo feels like the anticipation in the hours before an arena show put on by your favorite pop star. The arrangement's synth-pop pulse oscillates like a radio transmission: dancefloor-ready the way an accelerated revision of Folklore's spotlit slow-jam "Mirrorball" might be. (If this were 1996, the maxi-single would contain at least three inappropriately boshing remixes, and we are lesser for their absence.) But "I Can Do It" calls back to another period of Swift's career too: Reputation, an album that began with a flight to a secluded island and ended with the intimate domesticity of two lovers tidying up the remains of a party. The thesis statement of that album was that, for all her confessional lyrics and public scrutiny, Taylor Swift is fundamentally unknowable even to her most ardent fans. And look! Here she has performed a world-conquering tour, unprecedented in scale, and night after night kept secret this gloom consuming her. "I'm miserable," she crows as the song culminates, thrilling in subterfuge the way a magician might. "And nobody even knows!"  [10]

Taylor Alatorre: How'd it take Swift this long to have a charting single that uses the word "productive" as the shining centerpiece of its chorus? She's always had something of the overachieving AP student about her, and Tortured Poets is where she finally stopped trying to hide this and instead decided to make big-budget fanfic out of it. The tinker-toy soundscape, showily but not fussily busy, conjures up a Stephen Biesty cross-section of the inside of the Taylor Swift Hit Factory, all the whirring deadlines and clattering headlines that require teams of professionals to help manage them ("don't know my schedule on the 5th," as a smaller-scale pop neurotic put it). In "Broken Heart," Swift is eager to pull back the curtain from the machine further than she's ever done, though she naturally stops short of throwing her body upon the gears and wheels Mario Savio-style. I choose to believe that her lilting inflection of the word "it" is an allusion to sex in the manner of the Cole Porter standard, because that'd maximize the song's fertile intersection between public and private. Even if I'm wrong, though, and this really is just a condensed Behind the Music episode for Every Taylor Swift Break-Up Song, it at least hits the crucial mark of putting entertainment first and autofictional indulgence second. [7]

Nortey Dowuona: "He said he'd love me all his life!" is a frustrating sentence. At first, it's simple and cutting, a reminder of the anguish of losing someone who made a flimsy, insubstantial promise in a haze of heady, exaggerated joy then retracted it. The frustrating part is that this doesn't seem to be the realization -- the realization is the betrayal and anger at the betrayal, not an acceptance of the fading nature of the promise. Worse, it's phrased like "he said -- he'd love -- me all -- his life!", a leap forward over the four hits of the kick that only appears to jog you out of a stupor. The same effect is meant for "he said -- he'd love -- me for -- all time!", but the rest of the prechorus settles into that flat stupor. Swift isn't moved to sing in a deeper or brighter soprano, but returns to the same four measures of quarter notes, so once the chorus appears, it evaporates over the Broadway synthesizers. The synths are also weak, a hidden piano arpeggio flattened by limp pads, and when the drums and real synth line take the forefront, the prechorus synths seem even weaker. The even more frustrating part is that if you have no idea who and what Taylor Swift is, you have no idea who the "he" is who is dragging her into a pit of despair. "He said he'd love me all his life"/"he said he'd love me for all time" appears apropos of nothing and holds no weight; there is no way to make it noticeable unless you phrase it wrong. This is why Jack Antonoff is a bad producer: he can't prompt the songwriter to provide a more rhythmic or better-written prechorus, so the whole song cannot transition from verse to chorus without gracelessly lashing out. [4]

Will Adams: My lingering impression of TTPD was that the songs were all so hazy and drumless it might as well have been a two-hour compilation of the "pop song playing in an abandoned mall" genre. Revisiting "I Can Do It..." is refreshing; the drop, once it finally arrives, is fizzy and percolating. But then there are the lyrics. As ever, the tortured poet rears her head here, seemingly pouring out her feelings about the trappings of fame while never revealing too much. Even the attempts at catchphrase -- "lights, camera, bitch, smile" -- feel guarded. [5]

Ian Mathers: Keeping the count-in from the producer there in the background is the kind of thing that usually works for me, but it never quite gels here; volume? timing? Who knows. But it's the kind of not-quite-rightness that seems to be afflicting a lot of Swift's recent material. The later repetitions of the "birthday"/"plague" lines over the post-Chvrches synths make me think her going full synth pop might actually work in a way I wouldn't have guessed (or maybe I've been listening to too much early OMD recently). Lyrically and thematically this one kind of winds up in the "Anti-Hero" space of... yes, you've got a point, and some of the lines work, but no amount of self-awareness makes the ones that don't clunk any less. As with... everything to do with Swift, it would benefit from everything around her being at least slightly less exhausting/omnipresent. [6]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Distinctly post-prime in a way that even "Fortnight" didn't hit. It's reminiscent of nothing less than Russell Westbrook on the Los Angeles Lakers; she's hitting all the right poses, putting on a good attitude about the whole enterprise, but nothing ever coheres — the same tricks that worked to varying degrees on the "Mean"-"Blank Space"-"Delicate"-"Anti-Hero" continuum, the intentional conflation of romance, selfhood, and fame, no longer land in quite the same way. What was once clever albeit effortful now is adorned with flop sweat; "lights, camera, bitch smile" and "I'm so depressed I act like it's my birthday every day" would've sounded leaden and cliché even on Lover. Everything is bright and shiny and rather boring — the skeleton of a great Taylor Swift song that in practice can only remind me of past glories. [3]

Leah Isobel: The more time passes the more I think "Dancing On My Own" should never have happened; the long procession of diluted knock-offs makes the original seem more formulaic, watery, and obvious every year. Taylor's take on the concept doesn't bother to invest its mixed emotions with any sort of physical reality: her performance is so Disney-princess smiley, the synth throbs and jittering hi-hats are so wimpy, and that disgusting little piano twing is so... hateful! This is tacky, the performance of performance, and it might work if Taylor had any semblance of camp about her. She does not. This sucks! [2]

Katherine St. Asaph: The year 2024 has brought two attempts to revamp Britney Spears' "Lucky": an explicit cover by Halsey, and this implicit remake by Taylor Swift. Superficially, the three songs are the same: pop stars cry too. Yet in their nuances, they are products of drastically different cultures. The biggest distinction is that unlike Halsey and Swift, Britney didn't write her single; the main writers were Max Martin and Rami Yacoub (plus ambiguous "additional songwriting" by Alexander Kronlund; maybe he just popped in on a session like on "Side to Side"). Some might be tempted to draw the easy #menwritingwomen conclusion here, but I don't think that's quite it. As a songwriter, Martin famously thinks of lyrics as phonics over subtext, and Yacoub is also not a lyricist first. Their skill is to write melodies that sound like they were engraved in the musical scale for centuries; it is not to provide psychological depth. If Lucky has introspected at all on her pain -- why do these tears come at night? -- Britney doesn't let on. The song is narrated in third person; even the chorus is just words "they say." Halsey and Swift, though, write not just in the first person but in a confessional mode. They allude to documented events in their lives, psychoanalyze what drives them and invite you to agree, and openly admit to how they're offering up their pain for public consumption -- all things that are demanded from celebrities far more now than in 2000. Despite Swift's reputation as pop's parasocial princess, though, Halsey's heroine is the one whose hell is basically parasocial: she does it all to be "liked by strangers that she met online." "I Can Do It With a Broken Heart" is closer to Spears' idea of celebrity: pop star as remote idol rather than universal bestie. Both songs linger on their sugary hooks, on the glamour and the sequins of it all; they even both rhyme off "winning." The key difference, though, is that Britney's Lucky has no agency; she wakes up to handlers knocking on her door, and what she wakes up into is just more dreamsleep. Taylor Swift -- or at least the autofictional "Taylor Swift" in this song -- is constitutionally terrified of the fact that there are things in life beyond her control. The problem of heartbreak making her miserable is secondary to the problem of heartbreak being a career liability she hasn't yet addressed. She's the girlboss's girlboss; as with "Woman's World," you get the sense that "I Can Do It With a Broken Heart" would have killed 10 years ago. In 2024, though, the song doesn't benefit from that hit of zeitgeisty extramusical energy; it must manage to do it with an outdated heart. The chorus is powered by self-loathing melodrama, like @SoSadToday set to the melody of "Guess I'll Go Eat Worms." How much it works depends entirely on how much it gets you to repeat stuff like "I'm so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague :D" on chipper singsong autopilot in such situations -- and for that, it admittedly works quite well. But the production is thin, as if the "Dancing on My Own" Jack Antonoff liked and bit was the radio edit and not the album version; besides the bubblegum melody, the chorus hardly registers as pop. This should sound show-stopping and manic and iconic; instead it sounds perfectly professional. [ ] Exceeds Expectations [X] Meets Expectations [ ] Below Expectations [5]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[sexybabystevie]

i saw someone else do this and IM DYING to know so... if you had to assign each mutual a taylor album what would they all be assigned?

i already know i'm gonna forget people because i still, unfortunately, do not have all of my mutuals on my list (ugh i keep forgetting :") ) but here we go!! if i don't tag you i'm sorry, and if you reply i'd love to add you!! <333

starting with ally since she sent this in :)

ally @yoalchumly - red tv. not only because you listened to atw10 for HOURS upon hours in a single week lol, but also because a lot of how we met and the things we talked about remind me of the topics of this album. also, you have the very sincere, heartfelt and emotional (not at all in a bad way) nature to you, and to me that's what encapsulates the red album <3

lily @my-my-only-angel - (first of all i am SO sorry we hardly ever interact, but ily!! my tumblr feed sucks these days and i rarely ever see your posts but i still very much appreciate you!!) to me, you are SO cool it's not even funny. and you have the best bad bitch energy (a lot of people here a going to be hearing this btw so be prepared) so ultimately i'm bestowing upon you reputation!! you give off the vibes of someone who is unapologetically and confidently themselves, and i really admire that in you! that energy is absolutely present and rep and there is why i associate it with you!! <3

ela @lovelyela - (i know you're still kind of inactive but that's totally okay! i've been a mess about my blog recently so it's not biggie, but i wanna include you anyway so i hope that's okay!!) every time i've spoken to you, you have been absolutely so kind and sweet! you were one of my first even stranger things related mutuals, and i'll never forget that!! for that reason, i'm giving you debut album taylor swift!! you have the very kind, shy kind of vibe that that lbum has as a whole to me!! <3

natti @natti-ice - okay. you are literally so cool i'm not even kidding. like i am SO honored that you're one of my mutuals/friends and i LOVE always seeing you in my feed! so i'm also giving you reputation because, again, you have amazing energy that's very confident and you're just SO cool <3

vic @royalmaybank - we haven't interacted in like. a REALLY long time and i am so sorry!! i absolutely need to catch up on what you've written recently!! to me, you give off both the vibes of lover and folklore, but if i had to ultimately pick one then i think i'd go with folklore! the softness and calmness of it all, combined with the way that to me, every song on that album feels so made with love reminds me of you!! <3

anna @keeryshouse - anna!! we haven't talked in SO long but i'll literally never forget the first time we talked!! i always looked up to you a lot and that was just so so special to me! (and also when that anon said they thought we were the same person. literally one of the highest compliments i have ever received 😭) i'm giving you evermore!! for a lot of reasons haha. your writing is absolutely amazing - you write scenes and characters and just EVERYTHING so well - and to me you have the steve harrington fanfic equivalent of evermore's amazing lyrical genius. also!! your writing also makes me SO emotional, no matter the genre or what's happening in the story, and i think that's another thing that evermore does amazingly and so do you!! <3

ava @lxvecakes - you are so absolutely lover. from your theme to your love of pink and the overall softness of your personality!! you have such amazing and sincere lover vibes, and you were absolutely the easiest person for me to choose an album for, honestly!! not only are you absolutely enamored with love and being in love, but you're also such a lover yourself and i think that's absolutely amazing and beautiful!! <3

anna @steddiesandwich - a little unrelated but i absolutely miss talking to and interacting with you!! i still see you on my dash on occasion but i do miss some of the little convos we used to have because they were so fun! if i chose an albm for you, i'd choose midnights! i feel as though your blog is very organized, but you also have such a wide variety of ships and characters from stranger things that is so refreshing to see, and it reminds me of the ways in which midnights is basically bits and pieces of all of her other albums, a gian variety that is tied together beautifully, and that so reminds me of you and your blog! <3

lo @noirgoths - lo!!! i adore you and talking to you so much, and you've been so kind and have been there for me so much in the past few months, and i am so so grateful for that! :) you're someone who's very honest and genuine, but you're also so so cool too!! you're very strong and independent in ways that i wish i could be, and that reminds me a lot of midnights and how the songs there are both very open and sincere and are also self-aware and uplifting at times!! <3

bee @sunflowerharrington - we haven't interacted in a while or very much, but i still look up to you a lot and wish we did talk a little more!! but no worries because honestly i'm a little shy lmao; anyway! from what i've seen of you and how we've interacted together, you remind me most of midnights as well! (sorry 😭 a lot of midnights album recipients in a row but it's simply my opinion :") ) you have a lot of the qualities that i identified with lo; unapologetic sincerity regarding yourself and who you are, etc, and i know that we don't talk that much so i could be totally wrong, and that's my bad if so! (also i hope this isn't awkward because i'm cursed with not knowing how to talk to people :") ) <3

brooke @circesstars - oh my gosh. you are SO so kind and considerate and helpful, and i'm so glad that you're always open to helping me with things when needed!! i love when we randomly talk late at night (lmao) and discuss the absolute most random things :) for that reason, and a few others, you most remind me of 1989! a lot of songs on 1989 are about friendship and how important being with friends is, and that along with your general vibes really reminds me of 1989! (i genuinely hae no idea how to describe the vibes thing, so my apologies lmao. you just very much remind me of moving/visiting new york with all your closest friends and having the time of your life while there :) ) <3

athena @puppy-coded - i'm so glad that we became mutuals a little while ago!! your energy and vibes are, as your url says lol, very puppy coded and i love that! you have such an energetic and fun vibe and i love it, and thus you remind me of 1989 in that way (that's totally different from brooke's 1989 vibes?? idk how my brain works, oops-) anyway :") <3

persephone @very-offkey-kazoo - i love love LOVE talking to you so much!! the little dad jokes everyday and just talking to you about anything in general - including, ofc, cat pics <3 - makes me so happy and i always love hearing from you each day!! i value your friendship so so much!! the album i'm giving you is speak now, which makes more sense to me personally than it probably will vibes or content wise. speak now is the taylor album that i largely associate with the best parts of my childhood, and even though we haven't been talking for this long, talking to you is so easy that it feels almost like i'm talking to someone i've known since i was that little :) maybe that's weird - idk :") - but!! that's the album that i most associate with you <3

OKAY i'm done!! as i said if i forgot anyone i am SOOO sorry, please let me know and i'd love to write you one!! <333

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

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. 

please come into my inbox and tell me all of your thoughts, feelings, and favorite moments! thank you for reading <3

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Maeve//i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you

Request: Could you please do something else with Maeve? Perhaps something where reader works with Maeve on an English project and she's surprised that they have so much in common. She realizes she has feelings for her somehow after that? Sorry that's sort of rubbish, have a swell day/night.

hey! what’s up everybody! i hope everyone is well, and i hope you like this!! title is from ‘the lakes’ by taylor swift! 

- English projects are never fun 

- I mean, who finds constant stress and a deadline that’s always far too close fun?

- Nobody

- That’s who

- Well apart from Mrs Jones

- Your year 9 English teacher who made every minute of her classes a living hell

- And who mysteriously went missing half way through the year after having a screaming match with a fellow English teacher

- When she was supposed to be teaching you Romeo & Juliet. 

- One day she was accusing Miss Newman of being a terrible teacher and purposefully bumping up students grades so she looked better 

- And the next day both her and Miss Newman were gone 

- And you only got a replacement teacher when you moved into year 10

- Right now though 

- Its seems Miss Sands is going through some stuff 

- Because not only did she give you an assignment on Friday with a deadline of Monday 

- She also chose your partners instead of letting you choose your own

- Which is why you’re stood outside of Maeve’s in the pouring rain

- On a frankly miserable Saturday morning 

- It seems the weather knew exactly what sort of weekend you were facing 

- And decided to make it even worse. 

- By the third knock 

- You’re about to give up 

- The curtains are still drawn 

- And you’ve seen more movement in a graveyard 

- Plus

- You kind of already assumed you would be doing the project alone 

- Maeve Wiley was known for being very...

- ...independant 

- And group projects are no different 

- You actually think she may be more independent during group projects

- So as soon as Miss Sands paired you together 

- You knew 

- You were 99% sure that 

- You’d do your thing

- She’d do hers 

- And then five minutes before the presentation 

- You would figure out a way to connect the two.

- Anywayyyy

- While daydreaming about a time when you won’t have any assignments 

- And making awkward, accidental eye contact with Maeve’s neighbours 

- The door in front of you opens 

- Simultaneously giving you a fright and almost knocking you out

- She yawns and scratches the top of her head 

- ‘what are you doing here?’ 

- She sounds both tired and annoyed and you blink at her a few times before answering 

- ‘er - i - the project. for english.’ 

- It takes her a few seconds to process what you’ve said 

- But when she does 

- She looks even more miserable than she did five seconds ago

- And you brace yourself for a long weekend 

- She sighs and rolls her eyes 

- Before slowly opening the door properly and letting you in

- You feel slightly nervous as you walk in 

- But you really have no idea why

- It’s not like she’s a complete stranger 

- But then again 

- She’s not exactly a friend 

- ‘don’t worry, i’ve hidden the drugs. i don’t really like to share anyway.’ 

- ‘what?’ you ask confused and she rolls her eyes again 

- She huffs and crosses her arms before nodding to the slightly messy living room

- ‘i get it. we’re a bunch of benefit fraud chavs that do nothing but drink and smoke all day.’ 

- ‘that’s not what i was thinkin-’ 

- ‘sure it wasn’t.’ she rolls her eyes and you stare down at the floor. ‘i need to get changed so make yourself at home I suppose.’ 

- She walks into what you assume is her bedroom and slams the door behind her 

- Leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of the living room

- It’s small and slightly cramped 

- And most people would say that all the stuff makes it look busy 

- But to you 

- It’s wonderful 

- It’s filled with stories and memories 

- Some self explanatory 

- Some slightly more bizarre 

- Like the wonky blue and yellow clay swan living on the coffee table 

- You really want to know the story behind it 

- But decide it might be a little early in your partnership to start asking about her attachment to a half swan, half moth looking ornament

- So instead you pick up a pile of books on the dining table and move them onto the floor 

- You can hear Maeve opening and closing drawers while humming a familiar tune 

- And you feel yourself relax slightly as you place your laptop and books where the books were previously sat 

- Even if it does feel like you’re using all of your braincells to try and figure out where you’ve heard it before 

- ‘wow, do you actually trust me around that?’ 

- ‘what?’ you stop humming and look up at her 

- She looks between you and the laptop, staring at you expectantly 

- ‘oh no. i mean of course i do.’ you blush and she shakes her head before sitting opposite you 

- ‘so what do we know about women in fiction?’ 

- ‘historically they are written as either a femme fatalle type or some sort of innocent angelic being.’ 

- ‘they still are’ 

- ‘true’ you agree and flick through your textbook

- ‘why don’t we write about that then?’ 

- ‘what? how we’re still depressingly far back in the equality movement, despite being told otherwise?’ 

- She stares at you for a few seconds 

- A mixture of shock and surprise 

- Before nodding 

- And smiling 

- An actual genuine smile 

- You didn’t even know she could do that 

- Well you did 

- Of course you did 

- But you just haven’t seen it a lot 

- Usually when you see Maeve 

- She’s either mad, grumpy or very, very, very angry

- But her smiling 

- Puts a smile on your face 

- And this was definitely not where you thought this was going 

- ‘yeah...that’ 

- ‘okay.’ you shrug. ‘you can do classic literature because i know you prefer them and i’ll cover modern works.’

- ‘how do you know i prefer classics?’ 

- ‘the pile of books’ you nod towards the floor and she follows your gaze, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. ‘they’re all ripped and folded. you either love them or really, really hate them’ 

- ‘okay’ she eyes you suspiciously as you focus on your laptop 

- And you can feel your cheeks heat up under her gaze 

- However as quickly as they were there 

- They disappear 

- And the two of you fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence. 

- After about half an hour 

- Maeve stops what she’s doing to stretch 

- ‘is it okay if i play some music?’ 

- ‘sure, it’s your place. do what you want...as long as its not awful’ 

- ‘and what constitutes as awful?’ she asks, a smirk playing on her lips

- ‘well’ 

- And with that one question 

- Your entire day disappears in front of you 

- Laptops and books are closed and long forgotten 

- And instead you talk about music and movies 

- Books and plays 

- Characters that you love and hate 

- And the fact that her favourite character is the one you hate the most 

- She makes you lunch while you debate between movies and books and which adaptations are good

- And which ones should never have been made

- And you clean up and apologise profusely after a stray cushion (possibly thrown by you) ends up knocking the pan over 

- Surprisingly 

- She finds it quite funny 

- And you let out a relieved sigh

- Soon the sun goes down on another day 

- And you’ve barely written two paragraphs done between you

- ‘do you want to stay?’ she asks while your putting your jacket on

- If she’d asked you that this morning 

- You would have thought she had lost it 

- But now it feels almost inevitable 

- And you feel genuinely lucky to be asked 

- Not many people get to know Maeve 

- The real her 

- And that last person she told all of this to broke her heart 

- Very publicly 

- And she told herself she would never let herself be that vulnerable with someone ever again

- But this just feels right 

- For some reason you feel right 

- She feels safe with you 

- And part of her hates herself for it 

- But then again 

- She hates herself for not getting to know you sooner

- She feels far too attached to you 

- And it’s barely been twelve hours 

- You of course agree to stay 

- Shocking yourself and her 

- And while she sorts to sofa out 

- You excuse yourself to the bathroom 

- Under the pretences of telling your parents where you are 

- It takes two seconds to text them 

- And the other 28 to ask yourself 

- What the fuck are you doing? 

- Why are you agreeing to this? 

- Why do you feel like this? 

- What are you feeling?

- Who knows?

- Not you 

- Great 

- Now you’ve been in the bathroom for a suspicious amount of time 

- Just get it together, Y/n

- It’s just a study sleepover 

- Maeve gives you a questioning look as you leave 

- ‘you know how mums are. always worrying about where you are and what you’re doing’ 

- ‘i wouldn’t actually’ she shrugs and your eyes widen 

- ‘oh shit, sorry. i’m so sorry. god, i’m an idiot.’

- ‘it’s fine’ she forces a laugh and you wince. ‘i got you an extra duvet and little women is ready to watch so i can show you that the book is better’ 

- ‘that’s not what i said and you know it’ 

- ‘i’m sorry. i can’t hear you over the sound of me being 100% right and you being 100% wrong.’ 

- ‘you may be good at english, but you suck at maths’ 

- The next day you wake up to the sun shining through the curtains 

- And a clump of Maeve’s hair in your mouth 

- You splutter and cough and wake her up quickly 

- And she jumps away from you and smacks her head of the table 

- The two of you ended up moving the blankets to the floor while watching Pride and Prejudice 

- And neither of you bothered to move back 

- Maeve yawns and scratches her head

- Exposing a small part of her stomach and you feel yourself become a little breathless 

- ‘are you okay?’ 

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and she eyes you suspiciously 

- ‘whatever’ she shrugs and starts making breakfast 

- You watch as she pours to bowls of cereal

- Giving you the last of the milk 

- And for a second you’re a little worried as to how she knew you liked it 

- But then you remember that she also likes it and you had a whole discussion about the best and worst types of cereal at 2am 

- And half way through breakfast 

- You remember the original reason you’re here 

- And both of you curse loudly 

- Before rushing to finish eating 

-You get half way through your project 

- When Maeve asks if you want to go out for a bit 

- And well 

- She doesn’t need to ask you twice 

- And by the time you come back 

- The feeling you had last night returns 

- And has settled in your stomach 

- For the foreseeable future it seems 

- It makes you feel both light and heavy at the same time 

- And when you look at her 

- You feel dizzy 

- So you rush to finish the project 

- So you can go home and pretend nothing has changed 

- And yeah 

- With the need to leave 

- You get the rest of the assignment done fairly quickly 

- But you end up leaving feeling more confused about Maeve as you did when you started this 

- Maybe Miss Sands was right about a weekend project 

- Any longer and you would have gone insane trying to figure out whatever the hell this is 

- You just have to get through tomorrow and then you’ll be okay 

- Everything will go back to normal 

- You and Maeve can go back to being neutral to each other

- And you won’t have to deal with all of these confusing feelings that have decided to make an appearance for some reason 

- Wellll

- Turns out Miss Sands was wrong 

- A weekend is not enough time 

- And the first few presentations are awful 

- To put it nicely 

- So you spend the next week in a permanent confused state 

- Confused as to why you start looking for Maeve whenever you enter a room

- Confused as to why your heart skips a beat whenever you hear her laugh 

- Confused as to why you never want her stop talking in class 

- Even if the bell has rung and it’s lunch 

- Confused to why you keep looking for excuses to go over to see her 

- Despite your assignment being long done 

- And even more confused as to why you feel anxious when you’re waiting for her to answer the door

- The next Monday rolls around both painfully slowly and far too quickly 

- And while you wait for Ola and Danny to finish their presentation 

- Your hands shake with anxiety while your grip your papers 

- Maeve reaches over the table and gives them a reassuring squeeze 

- But it just makes them shake more and she slowly pulls back 

- Your turn can’t come quick enough 

- But then it’s over far too quickly 

- And you slump back down in your seat disappointed 

- Despite Miss Sands’ praise 

- Because it’s over 

- You no longer have an excuse to hang out with her 

- You never talked before 

- So why do you care about after 

- But there’s so much about her that you want to know

- Like the weird swan/moth hybrid 

- And the ugly plate that sits on top of the bookshelf 

- You want to be part of these stories 

- You want to be able to point to these things and say

- ‘yeah, i know exactly why that is special to you’ 

- You want to be the reason to add to this random collection of stuff 

- You want her to smile when she looks at them because they’ll remind her of you 

- You want her to smile when she looks at you 

- ‘y/n? are you okay?’ she asks making you jump 

- The classroom is now empty and you didn’t even notice the bell go 

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and grab your bag

- ‘are you sure?’ she grabs your arm forcing you turn around 

- ‘whats the weird swan thing on your coffee table?’ you ask and she furrows her eyebrows at you. ‘it’s just i saw it when i first came over and i really want to know the story behind it’ 

- ‘oh. aimee went through a pottery phase last year and that was the only thing she made that didn’t have a hole in it.’

- ‘and the plate?’ 

- ‘birthday present from my neighbours’ 

- ‘they got you a plate?’ 

- ‘yeah, they don’t have any kids’ 

- ‘clearly’ 

- Silence fills the room and you stare at the peeling posters behind her head 

- You can feel Maeve move closer to you and your breath hitches when she stops a few centimetres in front of you 

- She grabs your hand and squeezes it again 

- And your heartbeat increases 

- ‘y/n?’ 

- ‘yeah?’ 

- ‘i’m really, really confused right now. like more confused that i have ever been in my life. but what i do know, is that if i watch you walk out of that door without saying anything first, then i’d regret it for the rest of my life. i’ve only ever felt like this about boys before, but now i feel this and more about you and i have no idea where it’s come from or what i need to do, but i do know i need to tell you. because otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair for either of us’ she whispers and you stare at her wide eyed 

- ‘can i kiss you?’ she asks and you nod your head quickly 

- Slowly she leans in

- Her eye flutter closed and you follow 

- Your lips brush over hers 

- Her hands wrap around you waist to pull you close

- And then your lips connect 

- And you feel everything change 

- She kisses you slowly 

- And when you pull away you both feel breathless 

- Her cheeks are bright red 

- And there’s a shy smile playing on her lips as she looks at you bashfully

- And all of a sudden you feel really grateful for Miss Sands and her personal issues 

- Although you really hope they are resolved now 

- For your sake as well as hers

support my writing! if you want! 

[beyondspaceandstars]

Renegade

Relationship: Din Djarin x Reader Warnings: N/A Summary: [based off the song Renegade by Big Red Machine feat. Taylor Swift] You're a shopkeeper in a remote corner of the galaxy just trying to get by. For some reason, every now and then a certain Mandalorian pops into town. He comes and goes as he pleases until one day you finally get the courage to confront him on his drifter habits. Unexpected confessions spill out. A/N: I haven’t written something for The Mandalorian in a long time but i just had this idea for a while and i wanted to actually try to execute it. Idk if this came out good but i think it’s still sweet. I hope someone enjoys it :)

Masterlist

You never knew when he was coming into town.

It would happen pretty much in the blink of an eye. You’d shut down your store for the day, retire to your home, then he’d be there, in the middle of the village, bright and early. The Mandalorian kept no schedule it seemed but his surprise visits were always welcomed by you. 

He’d make it a point to stop at your store first. He never really bought anything, just browsed the fabric and clothing you had to offer. The Mandalorian seemed to appreciate your craftsmanship, always taking time on his stay to ask about your newer items or what your plans were for your next collection. Your shop was modest but it helped bring in some kind of income which was very valuable as the fate of the galaxy hung in limbo.

You built up some kind of rapport with the masked man but feelings have been shifting within you for a while. You didn’t really understand how it was possible. You had begun falling for a man that never even gave you the courtesy of saying goodbye. But at the same time, the hours you would spend chatting meant everything to you. It felt so good to confide in someone as a life as a solo storekeeper could be quite a lonely one. He also seemed to be no stranger to loneliness as a man roaming the galaxy, taking odd bounty jobs. Nowhere to really call his own. 

A deep, deep part of you wished he would call this village his home. He seemed to enjoy it here, evident by his numerous stops. When he’d come and go from your shop, he was always bringing back new treasures. The woman down the road would be testing a new stew recipe or the jewelry maker at the end of the block had talked him into buying something. Most of the time, he’d just give the items to you, claiming he couldn’t resist the shopkeeper but had no use for the trinkets. The pseudo-gift giving was a little ridiculous to you but it couldn’t help but fuel your burning crush. You always accepted and wore whatever the Mandalorian presented. 

Yes, you two definitely had formed a relationship over time. You didn’t know really what to call it and you two never seemed to want to speak about it but it was no secret that it was there, and you were a bit thankful for it. No matter where he had gone or how long he had left for, you were always there to welcome him back to the village with open arms.

As many times before, the Mandalorian arrived unexpectedly one beautiful, clear morning. He was hovering around your shop, seemingly waiting. His armor shined so loudly in the daylight, it was nearly blinding, but you appreciated how powerful he was. He may show you his soft side in the village but you’d heard plenty about his hunts. If the truth was even half as alarming as the gossip, you were impressed he could have such a gentle side. 

“You’re early,” you called out, pulling your shawl tighter around you as you walked towards the passing bounty hunter. He stopped dead in his tracks upon hearing your voice. 

“It would appear I am,” he said, letting out a breathy laugh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the time.”

You came to stop right in front of him. You peered up at his helmeted face. You certainly couldn’t see anything through that insane gear but some part of you still felt him staring into your eyes, deeply. Instinctively, you fiddled with the necklace resting on your lower neck. The charm was a piece of some dark crystal. You didn’t know what it was and you were slightly too nervous to inquire the jewelry maker about it but the Mandalorian standing before you had given it to you the last time he was here. He simply said he thought it would look nicer on you. You didn’t ask anymore.

“It’s alright,” you smiled. “I’m just glad to see you back here in one piece.”

He seemed a bit taken back by that. You worried you had overstepped the boundary between flirting and kindness but then he tilted his head, curiously. “Yeah?”

Oh, you felt yourself blushing a bit. You ducked your head and stepped around him, beginning to work on the lock of your shop. 

“Yeah,” you shrugged and opened the door. The Mandalorian followed closely behind. “I’ve heard your work can be demanding. Lots of opportunities for you to get hurt.”

“Does that worry you?”

You stopped in front of the pile of new fabrics you had just woven. You sighed. “I’ve come to think of us as a little bit more than acquaintances. It’s normal to worry about others.”

You swore you heard him let out a low chuckle at that but he didn’t acknowledge it. Or your statement. You chose to do the same. You walked around to the counter and began prepping the logbooks for the day. The Mandalorian continued to hang around, gaze and hands roaming the new pieces you had set up last night. You were hoping this new collection you were previewing was going to bring in some hefty credits. Maybe allow you to take a holiday.

The Mandalorian broke the tense silence with the most unexpected comment. “I worry about you too, you know.” 

Your finger stopped abruptly as it scanned your list of sales for the week. When you had offered your care, you had never expected it back. You two technically weren’t on that level, at least not verbally. In other formats of gift-giving and worried looks, it was a different story. 

“You worry about me?” You inquired, brows raised in surprise. 

He gave a very Mandalorian-like shrug, his gaze still fixated on your for-sale items. Something in you was crushed when it looked like you weren’t getting any more from him. Maybe he’d disappear tonight, embarrassed by this exchange. But then by some miracle, he spoke again.

“Of course,” he said it like it was so obvious. “You’re a very kind shopowner living out in this village alone. This galaxy, no matter what corner you hide in, can be dangerous.”

You smiled to yourself. “I’ve done this for many years, Mandalorian. I think I will be alright.”

He hummed in acknwoeldgement. “I’m sure,” he mumbled. “But can you blame me for having concerns?”

This conversation sure was going to a funny place, you thought, but you were along for the ride. If he was going to talk about concerns, you could for sure rattle off yours. He was worried about your safety in this little village while you worried for his health. It cannot be good for a human, assuming he was human under all that gear, to be wandering the galaxy with no rhyme or reason besides the bounties strung about this galaxy. You never thought you’d express these things to him but the Mandalorian appeared to be a talkative one today. And you felt you two were beyond strangers. 

“Well, I’m flattered you think of me,” you admitted. “But I fear it’s you who faces more dangers than me.”

The helmeted man gave a little scoff at that comment. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Sure, you didn’t doubt that, but that wasn’t what was on your mind. “I’m not talking about bounty hunting. I’m talking about your habit of being a drifter.”

The words didn’t feel very impactful in your brain but when they hit the open shop it was like you had dropped a bomb. The Mandalorian stilled, his gloved hand letting go of one of the scarves you had laying on a table. He began making his way suddenly towards where you still stood behind the counter. You frowned.

“A drifter?”

His eye gaze wasn’t seen but it was sure felt. You shrugged. “I’m not a fool. I know you bounce around from planet to planet throughout this galaxy. Maker knows why you keep coming back here but... I just worry you don’t have a home-,”

“I don’t,” he confirmed. Your heart all about stopped. Well, you didn’t exactly want to be right.

“Oh,” you said, averting your eyes to the wood counter. “And that doesn’t bother you? You must want someone waiting for you. Someone to just spend...moments with.”

“Don’t I have you?”

The question hung in the air between you two like a heavy pendulum. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. He… He thought of you like that? Of this village? But why would he… Oh, but didn’t it make some kind of sense? The reappearing? The coming and going… He waltzed in and tried to get to know everyone. Got to know you.

Your head was a jumbled mess, so much so the only thing you could get out was a soft, “Me?”

The Mandalorian nodded. He wasn’t looking anywhere near you, finding such interest in the wall of your shop. But you noted his stiff stance. Maybe he hadn’t meant to say that… Except he had. And now it was out there. Something in the mysterious bounty hunter made him let out such a grand confession.

“Yes,” he eventually confirmed. “You. This village. I have that. I have this to come back to.”

With thoughts swimming violently, you had to ask, “But why don’t you stay?”

“I have jobs to do.” He almost sounded offended you had asked that. You shook your head.

“N-No, I mean… Get a place for yourself. You’re always sleeping on that ship. Maybe accept the invites to dinners the sweet lady down the path invites you to. Or you and I could…” Your words faded fast, slightly scared of what was going to slip out. But the Mandalorian wasn’t letting it go.

He turned his gaze back to you. “We could what?”

“S-Spend time together or something,” you mumbled. Real smooth, you thought. Just the perfect way to flirt. You expected him to now be so offended, maybe even storm out such a suggestion, but the armored man didn’t move. Instead, he cocked his head, curious.

“You’d want to do that?”

You sighed. “I want you to start a life somewhere. Really start it. Drifting around this galaxy cannot be very promising. You deserve this. You deserve a home, Mando.”

“Din.”

Your brows furrowed. Now it was your turn to be curious. “What?”

“My name is Din,” he explained. “You don’t have to call me Mando.”

If a heart could sing, yours would be a full chorus. He finally told you his name. After collecting jewelry and stories, he had finally opened somewhat to you. That was a good sign, a great sign. 

“Din,” you said, testing the name. It rolled off your lips easily. “We’d love to have you around.” A beat. “I’d love it, especially.” It was a bold declaration but he had given you something, the least you could do was make your intentions more obvious.

“Thank you,” Din said. 

“Of course,” you shrugged. “We all need to find the place where we belong.”

Din let out a bit of a chuckle. You frowned at that.

“You think I belong here?” He asked, amused. 

You didn’t like that he wasn’t taking you seriously but it would be okay. Just gave you more of a reason to show him everything this place had to offer. From the nice shopkeepers to the lovely food. This would be some kind of home for him or at least a place where he’d always be welcomed. Your heart fluttered at the idea of him leaving less, maybe even never leaving. He could train people on fighting or - or… 

You had to stop yourself as your brain was getting beyond reality. You shot the Mandalorian a smile.

“I think you’ve always belonged.”

[wifeylouis]

Louis Tomlinson writes queer love songs about the queer experience.

Louis is a prolific songwriter who has penned most of the iconic One Direction songs and has written on every single one of the songs from his debut album Walls. LGBT+ fans have always resonanted with Louis’ song writing and most of us have picked up on the very obvious queer coding. Many people seem to dismiss Louis’ outcries about his sexuality through his songs and I’m here to bring back the attention to all the gay anthems Louis has given us! 

Before someone brings up the fact that Liam Payne has written on these songs too, in his own words, he focused more on melodies and Louis on the actual lyrics!

In One Direction:

1. Strong

I'm sorry if I say, "I need you" But I don't care, I'm not scared of love 'Cause when I'm not with you I'm weaker Is that so wrong? Is it so wrong That you make me strong?

Here Louis talks about not being scared of loving his partner and asks them if it's so wrong for them to be in love and to need each other. A very common thing gay people are told is that it’s wrong for us to love our significant other. Louis is trying to make his lover realise that it’s okay for them to do so, and that there's nothing to be afraid of.

Think of how much Love that's been wasted

People always Trying to escape it Move on to stop their heart breaking But there's nothing I'm running from You make me strong

Many older gay people have remained in the closet all their lives and have tried to “escape” from their truths and from who they really are, because they have been (and still are) afraid of rejection or the heartbreak they might face if they were out. 

Specially back when things were even worse for the community, gay people would remain in straight marriages and even have children - take the example of Philip Schofield, the british presenter who only came out as gay this year after 27 years of marriage. 

Louis, on the other hand, says that he isn’t ashamed of who he is and he isn’t running away from his true self. He knows who he loves and is proud of himself. 

2. Alive

My mother told me I should go and get some therapy I asked the doctor, "can you find out what is wrong with me?

Here louis refers to how families and society often tell us that being gay is something that needs to be fixed. The “doctor” could be a reference to conversion therapy that many gay people in homophobic religious families are forced to go through. If you grow up around that mindset, you might really wonder if something is wrong with you. 

She said, "hey, it's alright Does it make you feel alive? Don't look back Live your life Even if it's only for tonight" She said, "hey, it's alright If it makes you feel alive"

So the doctor tells him that it’s okay to be himself and to live his truth, love who he loves, because all that matters is doing what truly makes him “feel alive” which is being himself. 

I whispered something in her ear that I just can't repeat She said, "okay" but she was worried what her friends will think She's going crazy Can't contain it She asked me, "what should I do, oh?"

Those of us who have been in a closet have at some point worried about our friends finding out, I know that I have been careful of being with another girl if there was a chance my friends would find out about it. We all know the theory that if you replace the girl in Alive with a man, the song changes its  meaning. It clearly becomes a song about a guy hooking up with another man at the same party, and him worrying about what his friends would think about him being with another guy. Louis is telling him what the doctor told him: that it’ll be alright, and that he needs to do what makes him feel alive! To be who he is and to live his truth freely. I love this theory for the song because it makes so much sense!

3. Through the dark 

You tell me that you're sad and lost your way You tell me that your tears are here to stay But I know you're only hiding And I just wanna see you

Here he's probably referring to a lover or a friend who was maybe afraid to accept themselves. This song reminds of Taylor Swift’s "Seven" where she sings about a friend who will no longer have to be in the closet if they leave their homophobic home and come live with her. Louis is telling a friend, who has lost their way trying to find themselves, that their true self is still there, hiding under that blanket of shame and self hatred. 

You tell me that you're hurt and you're in pain And I can see your head is held in shame, But I just wanna see you smile again See you smile again

The theme of “hiding” and “shame” are obvious references to internalised homophobia and Louis is telling his friend or lover that he wants to see them happy, wants them to accept who they are. Throughout the song he reminds them that he will always be there for them and that he will support them and love them regardless of what society might say. He just wants them to be happy and to be themselves. 

4. Ready to run

There's a moment when you finally realize There's no way you can change the rolling tide

All of us have had that moment when we realised we were queer, for some of us it happened at a young age and for some of us later on in life. But that moment of realisation and coming to terms with our sexuality is a shared experience for the entire community. Louis talks about that moment, about realising who he is and not wanting to change it because the truth is there and he’s accepted it. 

There will always be the kind that criticize But I know, yes I know we'll be alright

As LGBT+, we face a lot of criticism from society and Louis talks about how he doesn't care about who stands against him and his lover, he knows they’ll be alright because he believes in their love. 

 5. End of the day

All I know at the end of the day is you want what you want and you say what you say And you'll follow your heart even though it'll break Sometimes All I know at the end of the day is love who you love There ain't no other way If there's something I've learnt from a million mistakes You're the one that I want at the end of the day

A wlw anthem! Louis really does love his sapphics and this song was easily claimed by his wlw fans. He again talks about staying true to himself and living his truth even if he might face rejection and heartbreak, he can’t change who he is. A common phrase associated with the LGBT+ community is “Love is Love”. Louis speaks on the same theme and says that nothing can change him because he knows who he loves and there’s nothing wrong with who he loves and wants. He talks about how he's not afraid of being in love with this person and he's ready to say what he wants about his lover, because he's not ashamed of his feelings in any way or form. And he’ll follow his heart even though he might be rejected. 

The priest thinks it's the devil My mum thinks it's the flu But girl it's only you

He refers to the “priest” and “mom” like he did with the “doctor” and “mother” in Alive. Religion tells us that being gay is something wrong and evil, our family tells us that it’s just a phase that we will get over, and Louis talks about these elements in many of his songs. But he knows that there’s nothing wrong with his feelings, it isn’t a phase or a trend for him, he loves who he loves and there’s no other way. 

7. Home

Make a little conversation So long I've been waiting So let go of myself and feel alive

Here Louis refers to the feeling of being “alive” once again. Being who he really is makes him feel like he’s truly living. He’s finally “letting go” of himself, as in coming to terms with who he is. 

So many nights I thought it over Told myself I kind of liked her But there was something missing in her eyes

Louis leaked Home even though it wasn’t a single and even tweeted a little Home emoji for it! This song was quickly claimed by LGBT+ fans as exclusively for us and we even started Project Home for it. Here he talks about how he tried to make himself believe he liked this girl, but at the end of the day he knew it wasn't right and there was something missing. Most of us have tried to make ourselves believe that maybe we’re just confused, and many of us have suffered through comp-het, or giving heterosexuality one last chance before realising that something’s wrong and this isn’t for us. 

I was stumbling, looking in the dark  With an empty heart But you say you feel the same Could we ever be enough? Baby we could be enough

There was a point in time where he was confused, figuring out where he fell on the spectrum, he was “stumbling” through this journey of self acceptance and he found his lover along the way. Someone who told him that they felt the same way he did. This is again a common shared experience in the LGBT+ community, finding comfort in realising that there’s other members of the community around us who are like us, we are not alone in this struggle. Finding that person who felt the same way he did, was enough for him.

I see the smile as it starts to creep in It was there, I saw it in your eyes

Referencing the missing something in the girl’s eyes from before, Louis says that he’s found it in his lover’s eyes. They’re happy, they know who they are, they’ve accepted themselves. I also made a connection here with a lyric from Louis’ song Walls where he sings “Looked you in the eyes, saw that I was lost” perhaps implying he could no longer find that “something” in his lover’s eyes, he no longer feels the same way. Louis’ songs have many easter eggs and little references to eachother, it’s amazing how he’s writing a story through his songs and no matter which album or era you pick a song from, they all link with eachother and can be written down like a cohesive story. He’s a really brilliant, smart songwriter. 

In his debut album Walls:

Something to note here, Louis hasn’t used a single pronoun in the entirety of Walls. Unlike the unnecessary “girl” in awkward places that were forced into One Direction songs, Louis’ debut album is a beauty, gender neutral piece that is relatable to everyone, regardless of who are partner is. 

7. Too Young

Oh, I can't believe I gave in to the pressure When they said a love like this would never last

Being LGBT+ as a regular person is hard enough, but being a gay man in the homophobic music industry is near to impossible. Louis talks about the pressure and hardships he and his lover may have faced under their label and management, considering how restrictive, abusive and controlling Sony Music is, it isn’t far-fetched to think that Louis is referring to the pressure his relationship may be under because of contracts and agreements. The industry is homophobic, the artist is a product and the listeners are the consumers, and gay men in pop music aren’t exactly seen as marketable by the executives. A “love like this” is obviously referring to queer love, and being told that it’s phase that will pass, or that it won’t last because they won’t let it last.

8. Habit

I took some time 'cause I've ran out of energy Of playing someone I heard I'm supposed to be But honestly, I don't have to choose anymore

Louis talks about being tired of playing a character, hiding his true self and being someone he isn’t because thats what hes told to do. Again, this could be a reference to that “pressure” he felt in Too Young, and also an obvious reference to a closet. All of us who have been closeted before or are in the closet right now, know that our day to day public lives feel like playing a character, acting like the person society expects us to be. Straight men don’t experience this, they don’t have to play someone else because they are exactly what society expects of them already. Louis is tired of that, and doesn’t want to choose between that pressure of the hiding and being his true self. 

 9. Only the brave

It's a church of burnt romances And I'm too far gone to pray

Only the Brave is the last song on Louis’ debut album, and was quickly claimed by his LGBT+ fans as a second sister to home, another gay anthem. In the track by track, he says “Love is only for the brave”. Bravery and pride are two words commonly associated with the LGBT+ community, pride is an integral part of us and we are extremely brave for being ourselves and loving who we love in a society that tells us that we are wrong for doing so. Here, Louis again brings up religion and his relationship with it. This is a recurring theme in his songs. The “burnt romances” are obviously queer romances that the “church” or all religion has killed, by telling us we are wrong or evil for being who we are. Alot of gay people have a bad relationship with religion, mostly because we are so demonised by it. “Too far gone to pray” definitely refers to how gay people are told that if they pray or if they hadn’t strayed from religion they might be able to “cure” themselves. In this case he says that he can't do that anymore, because he KNOWS who he is and doesn't need religion to tell him. He’s too far gone to turn around and try to “fix” himself, instead he doesn't need that fixing at all. 

And they'll say, "I told you so Come on, when you know, you know"

Something most of us have heard when we come out of the closet, is people saying “they knew all along” and this is a reference to that. It can also be interpreted as knowing who we are when the time comes. Most of us have had our gay awakening at some point in life, when that moment comes, we realise who we were all along. Louis himself has been outed multiple times in his career, once even by The Wanted, he might be referring to how people will say that they had known all along when they find out the truth about him. 

Additional: 

10. Just Like You 

“Twenty-five and it's all planned”

Louis announced Just Like You as a song for the fans against his label’s wishes on 11th October 2017, also known as National Coming Out Day. His LGBT+ fans knew it was another outcry from him about his sexuality, reaching out to his community through his music. Here he talks about how his entire career has been planned, perhaps referring to Too Young and Habit, playing this character because he’s been forced into it, because that’s what's written down for him by the management and labels. His fans have always picked up on certain mannerisms and things he does and says that look forced, and are probably a result of controlled media training of his body language and words. 

Yeah, I feel the same as you would do Same stress, same shit to go through I'm just like you If you only knew

The “you” here is the LGBT+ community. Time and time again Louis has been alienated from his own people, and through his music he reaches out to us and tells us that he’s the same, he goes through the same troubles and hardships and faces the same societal pressure that we face when it comes to being who we are and loving who we love. 

I wanna lay where she lays

This is the one of the only pronouns Louis has ever used in his solo music but his fans quickly picked up on the real meaning behind it. “She” lays next to a man, and Louis might be referring to how gay men are told that men should not lie with men, and he says that if he had it his way, he could be lying where “she” is, as in next to the man, his lover. 

Louis also released a beautiful lyric video for Just Like You where he added newspaper articles about various topics ranging from Black Lives Matter, racial inequality, police brutality, feminism, sexual assault and the LGBT+. There are many easter eggs and hints to pick up on in the video including a clipping of a crossed out “What is your sex” column and using a separate clipping of the letter “S” over the word “He” to form “She”, a reference to gender neutral pronouns or the “He” that he wants to lay next to. 

 There are many themes that are recurring in Louis’ music, specifically religion, societal pressure, having to hide and be someone society expects him to be, being told that there’s something wrong that needs to be “cured”. All of these are a common part of the queer experience, something all of us have been through and shared with eachother. That’s why Louis’ music resonantes with gay fans, because the words he writes and sings tell a story that all of us have lived, and a straight man could’nt do that. LGBT+ artists queer code through many ways, clothing, mannerisms, art, Louis does it through songwriting. He may be in a tightly controlled, restrictive situation but he has a positive outlook on life, he is proud of who he is, he constantly reaches out to fans and his community through the only way he can, his songwriting. He’s given us many gay anthems  and has helped many fans, myself included, come to terms with our sexuality and accept ourselves because his music told us that it’s okay to do so. I’m grateful to Louis for giving me that acceptance and love that all of us seek through his beautiful songs. It’s time we stop invalidating Louis’ struggles and the amount of times he has reached out to his community and tried to show us his true self. 

Can’t wait for our next big gay anthem in LT2!

[harryskalechips]

Illicit affairs

A/N Hellooooo! I haven’t written in a while but enjoy this little sad piece inspired by Taylor Swift! Thank you for all the love! I hope you guys are doing well! Feel free to leave a kind message in my inbox ❤️

Y/N was a new intern at Colombia records when she met Harry Styles. Their relationship takes a turn however, when they start an affair.

Tw: Cheating

Thank you @harrysleftchelseaboot for letting me participate in your writing challenge! For any writers out there who want to give it a go make sure to check it out! I would love to read some new work. 

Prompts:

“Be a good girl and spread your legs for me.”

“I’d punch you, but that would ruin that pretty little face of yours.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Leave.”

Note: I do not condone cheating whatsoever! Please mind that this story is fictional! As much as it makes me sad to paint Harry as a cheater, it’s part of this storyline I thought of as I listened to Taylor’s album, Folklore.

Word count: 5k / Masterlist

Y/N never knew she was going to be in this type of predicament. Falling asleep every night in a man’s arms, only to wake up alone in her cold sheets at dawn. For some odd reason, his vanilla scent smothered her atmosphere every time, leaving her in a subspace-like condition. She found her thoughts easily shifting to him or feeling the need to touch him. She’s whipped but sadly also clingy. 

Does she have an excuse to feel this way? She was only 21 when she began working as an intern at this man’s record label. He was her first serious relationship and although he was married -there always seemed to be a weird tension between them.

It all started when she was assigned to follow Rob Stringer through his meetings in 2017...nonetheless she met Mr. Harry Styles. One of the members of the biggest boy band, One Direction. She knew exactly who he was, especially since he was sexualized by the media too often at an early stage of his career. She knew his first solo album was a hit and that in her job description, she had to be present at every interview he had. She also knew that the ring on his finger was a symbol of love for his wife that he married a year ago. 

Months on end, she barely spoke to him. She was shy -feeling as if her personality would bore Mr.Styles. One night however as the team went out to celebrate his last show for live on tour, he himself invited her. 

They were at a club in New York -A very private one to be exact when Harry found himself too interested in the quiet intern. To be honest, his life at home (when he was there) wasn’t what he planned for. His wife was too busy, only fighting him whenever he stepped foot inside. She barely had any more interests in his music or his life -and suddenly, it felt like two strangers living in that mansion. It wasn’t an excuse for him to keep glancing at the girl as she danced with her co-workers nor was it an excuse for him to buy her a drink. Funny enough, he always thought of himself as a hopeless romantic since he was waiting for that particular someone to love him back once again and save his marriage. But before he could stop himself, he was already walking towards the girls dancing on the floor and getting to know them.

After that night at the club, Y/N felt different towards Mr. Styles. Of course, she was still intimidated but she now knew him on a more personal level, leading her to call him Harry instead. That night as they sat in one the booth upstairs, she listened to his jokes and stories and it made her start to have a little crush on him. But hey, he was married and she would never want to ruin a relationship. 

As her days became busier at Columbia -sorting papers and running for Coffee, She always glanced at the elevator hoping Harry Styles would come out and was in need of a conversation with Rob in person. She knew he probably called her boss though the phone but her brain was rummaging for ideas why he would start appearing in her life once again. That was until one day she heard Gina and Louise in the staff room during break talking about Harry coming in tomorrow. Boy, did her heart began to beat fast. Maybe, it was manifestation but she was a bit too excited to see him again as it’s been a couple of months since she last saw him. 

~

“Y/N,” Rob calls out for her as he plays with a pen in his hand. “Meet me in the main conference room in five minutes. I need you to note down my meeting today.” He gives her a small smile and quickly walks off. She knew full well that this meeting was about Harry Styles. 

As she sat beside Rob at the long table, she realized that the whole table was filled with people from publicity and other departments. Right in front of her was the man she’s been thinking of, beside him was his manager. It’s not like she was deeply infatuated with him but she did love thinking about his pretty eyes. 

Matter of fact, as she first glanced at him, her eyes already met his. He was smiling and staying quiet as the meeting immediately began but his fingers played with his pen as he watched her. She was too focused on the shittier details of what they were discussing. He wanted to tell her so badly that she didn’t need to write some things down but he was having fun watching her bite her lip in stress. He wasn’t smooth though. Since she was already feeling his gaze burning through her. 

As the meeting went on, Harry became a bit more serious about why he came into the office. They were in the talks of his new second album and now, they had to plan publicity and tour. Some of the staff even asked how his trip to Japan was and although he was so excited to share his fantastic experiences, it was sad to mention how his wife didn’t even bother coming along. 

“Are you not going to say hi to me?” Harry teases Y/N as they’re the last ones to leave the conference room after their long meeting. She had to clean up the table while he chose to sit in his chair, pretending to do important things on his phone. When he waved bye to everyone as they left the room, he pointed at his phone, explaining he needed a few minutes to send “important emails” -he just wanted to catch up with his new friend, Y/N.

“Hi.” She tries her best to act normal and unaffected by his presence. “Sorry, I couldn’t say hi earlier. When Rob said five minutes, I didn’t know the meeting was already taking place.” Harry laughs at her apology since he wasn’t petty at all for her lack of greeting today. 

“I was just teasing. How are you?”

“I’ve been good.” She smiles back at him as she tosses the last remainder of paper cups in the bin. “I think the last time I saw you was last year. Where have you been?”

“Why did you miss me?” He raises his brow as he spins his chair a bit. He gives her a smirk as he watches her lean herself on the table. 

“Just a bit. I loved watching your interviews.” She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms against her chest. “At first I wanted to sleep through them but now I rather go through those back and forth instead of, filling random sheets out for Rob.”

“Heyy, I think I’m pretty interesting during interviews.”

“Oh no! Don’t get me wrong you are! It’s just you have such a raspy voice and you talk so slow! You can literally put me to bed anytime.”

“Am I talking slowly right now?”

“Just a bit. I haven’t seen you in a while. I kind of forgot!” She laughs. “ What else did you do other than Japan? Spent some time with your wife?” Y/N wasn’t going to lie… bringing up his wife kind of made her uncomfortable but she knew this was a good way to get to know him in a friendly way. 

Harry couldn’t help but give out a humourless scoff as he rests his head back on the chair. His eyes, however, meet her’s again. She couldn’t help but watch his adam’s apple bob up and down. 

“Marriage is hard you know. If I’m being honest with you, I haven’t spoken to her in a week. She’s been on vacation, travelling in Europe I think with her best friends.”

“She’s a model, right? She must have a lot of free time. I’m sure she can make space for you.” Harry slaps his knee in sarcastic humour as he shakes his head at Y/N’s innocent idea of who his wife truly is now. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s more complex than I thought. I haven’t really been in a relationship at least a long term one.”

“Are you free tonight?” Harry asks her out of the blue.

“Yes.” 

“Can I come over? We don’t need to do anything but I would love to hang out with you and I don’t know... forget I have all these responsibilities.”

“Sure.” What Y/N didn’t know that this night would forever change her relationship with Harry.

~

It was late in the night as Harry sat on Y/N’s couch talking to her about everything. His life, his career, his marriage. Usually, it wasn’t easy for him to open up so quickly to a stranger but for some odd feeling, his gut was telling him that he could trust this pretty girl beside him. It’s like he knew she was trustworthy and non-judgemental. 

Ever since he first noticed her during his meetings, he found himself involuntarily glancing at her. That was until he grew some balls and invited her to his after-party. Maybe, He did find her pretty and a bit too hot but even if his marriage is going through the rocks, he did not want to cheat. He didn’t want to be that type of guy. Yet during his time in Japan, he found himself thinking of what would happen if he was single right now? Would he actually make a move on her?

“What are you thinking of?” The same woman calls him out as she takes a swing of the wine bottle into her mouth. 

Yes, the found themselves enjoying Harry’s expensive red wine so now they’re passing the bottle. 

“You.” He was a bit tipsy and so was she but they were still sober enough to choose their words properly. 

“Me? Why me? Why not that hot model you call your wife.”

“She left my mind before I even met you.”

“Yet you’re still with her. Why?”

“I don’t know.” He looks at her as he takes a sip of wine. 

“Okay, so why are you thinking of me? Are you happy you have a new friend?” Her cheeks were very red at his confession but she was trying to make herself believe it was because of the alcohol. 

“I’m happy that I finally got to know the girl who sat quietly in the corner during my interviews.” He smirks at her as he watches her try to hide a smile. 

“I was intimidated by you!” 

“Why was that, love?” Y/N was not expecting him to call her that. She places the almost empty wine bottle on her coffee table and sits back in her same position as she’s wrapped in the same blanket Harry is.  

“You’re Harry Styles. Every woman is head over heels for you and Every man wants to be you.”

“Are you head over heels for me?” Harry squints his eyes as he says the first thing that comes out of his mouth. It wasn’t his intention to flirt with her but they both knew they had overpowering chemistry. The only thing holding them back is well… Harry’s marriage. 

“No.” She bluffs. He continues to look at her. “Fine, a bit but you’re married so I know how to control myself.” 

“What happens If I can’t?” his tone drops as he mumbles to himself. “I’m sorry what?” Y/N chokes as she looks at him. 

“I know I’m married fuck.” He sits up and rubs his face in frustration. “It’s just I never wanted a girl so bad after my marriage. I shouldn’t! I should be happily married but for some shit reason, I can’t get my mind off of you.”

“Harry, there’s consequences about what we’re talking about right now.” Y/N sits up as well as she watches him. Does it still count as cheating if his wife is barely in his life anymore? 

“I know. I’m sorry. I know you aren’t that type of girl. I would never disrespect you like this. I should leave.” He begins to stand up immediately. Y/N says nothing as she follows him to the front door of her apartment. 

“Thank you for coming, Harry.” She opens the door to let him out. He simply nods as he walks past her through the door. As she watches him walk down her hallway, she closes the door. How was she feeling? Well, she was trying her best to not feel regret but instead relief. She leans her body on the wooden surface, trying to make herself feel happy that nothing happened between them -Yet her heart was beating too fast for a guy she had just met.

The loud pounding on her door, however, makes her head shut up. She immediately opens it to find no one other than the curly-haired man who had just left her apartment a minute ago.

He immediately grasps her face into his hands as he kisses her eagerly, making her shut the door behind him. His body quickly pushing her’s against the wall, as his lips attack her jaw down to her neck. Her hands resting on his shoulders as she leans her head back to give him more area to leave his soft licks and kisses. 

“Shit Y/N. You’re making me go crazy.” 

“Harry.” She moans as he rubs himself against her centre. He whispers a command to her, making her jump and wrap her legs around his waist and he carries her to the first surface in his line of sight, which is her dining table. It was a dark wood wooden table that was meant only for eating purposes.

He helps her take off the sweater she was wearing as she throws it behind it her without a care. With her hand, she guides his mouth back to hers, making them both moan as this sexual tension is finally being relieved. Her nipples became hard in an instant as they felt the cold temperature. 

“Where’s your bedroom?” He pulls away as he’s unbuttoning his shirt. His mouth was open a little bit from their heated makeout and his lips were juicy pink after kissing her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. 

“You want to fuck me right here?” Y/N blurts. She wasn’t the type to have sex with a new partner for the first time on her dining table but her room was a mess and she was a bit shy letting him in there. 

“Are you that eager baby?” A smirk plays on his lips as he tosses his shirt. “Well If you’re that needy, why won’t you take off my pants?” Y/N’s cheeks turn red as she reaches forward to unbuckle his jeans. “You know, how fucking long I’ve been jerking off with my right hand?” Harry asks as his hand runs through her soft hair, letting his thumb rub against her pink plump lips. 

“For a long time, Daddy?” She murmurs against the pad of his thumb as she lets his thumb enter her wet mouth. 

“Look at you, you’re a little devil.” Harry pushes his pants off until they reach mid-thigh. He quickly helps her out of her tights, pulling them off her almost instantly that she had to hold onto him. “Should I get a condom?” He pants as his hands involuntarily run themselves against her soft thighs.

“I’m on the pill and I’m clean.”

“I’m clean too.” He looks down at her closed legs as he pumps himself a bit. “I promise.” Y/N nods as her hands guide his body back closer towards her.

 “Be a good girl and spread your legs for me.” He whispers as he watches her show him her wet needy sex. “Fuck, you look so good right now.” He leans in to kiss her more. His mouth going south as they reach her breast. His mouth sucks on her nipple as the other grabs and rolls her the other one.

“Fuck stop teasing me. I need you.”

“Beg for me, Y/N. I know you want to.”

“Harry please!” She feels his hand directing his wet cock to her centre. Teasing her and playfully slapping her entrance. “Daddy!” His eyes immediately stop looking down as he grabs her hair, making her look at him. 

“You okay with this love? Do you like it rough?” Y/N nods her head as she stares into his eyes. 

“I need you to use your words, baby.”

“Yes, I want it rough.” 

“What did you call me earlier?” A cheeky smile forms on his face as he watches this little girl about to crumble in his hand. 

“Daddy.”

“You’re going to keep calling me that or what?”

“Only if you want me-” Harry inserts himself in her, making her choke on her sentence. 

“What do you call me?” He leans a bit further downs so their bodies rub against each other as his arm supports her back while the other hand chokes her neck. 

“Daddy! Fuck, I call you daddy!” 

“I know I’ve been deprived of some good sex but you feel so fucking tight! Do guys not know how to fuck you?”

“Only you can.” Harry pulls his hand away from her neck and instead grasps her face so she can watch their centres connecting. 

“You like that view? Is it turning you on? You’re fucking clenching me, baby!”

“Harder, daddy.” Her arm wraps around his shoulder as he pulls away and turns around, making her bend on the table.

“You want it harder baby? I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll never be able to sit at this table without remembering how I fucked you so good.”

~ The day after their first time sleeping with each other scared Y/N. As much as she tried to avoid letting Harry see her messy room, they ended up in there anyway. They participated in a couple more rounds and a deep conversation too until they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. 

What Y/N was scared of was how Harry would react when he woke up in her sheets. Of course, they weren’t too drunk last night but the alcohol did give them a confidence boost. Now it’s the day time and they have to deal with this new boundary they had just crossed. 

“Good morning.” A raspy voice speaks up as she sets her head on her hand. Her elbow putting all its pressure on her pillow while she watches the man who’s laying on his stomach smile at her.

“Hi.” She gives a soft smile back. Harry immediately notices the hickeys on her neck, making him not guilty but a bit more proud.

“I marked you.” Y/N’s eyes widen as she sits up and wraps her hands around her neck. “Why you don’t like them?” Harry fixes his position too so he can rest his back against the headrest. He rubs his eyes for a few seconds before helping her straddle his waist. “What’s wrong, Baby?”

“You’re married.” Her finger mindlessly traces one of the sparrows on his chest. 

“I know.”

“You think she’ll get mad?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think she cares.”

~ Y/N and Harry’s affair went on for months that they even reached his tour and new album reveal. Although they never said the three most important words, Y/N already knew it was there.

What she loved the most these past months with Harry was their privacy.  The secret hookups in changing rooms, the knowing glances in a room full of strangers, and their affectionate touches when they had to pass things to one another in front of her boss. 

She knows he’s married and there was no doubt, they fought about his relationship status. But Harry explained that divorces in Hollywood were more complex than for a regular couple. And while Y/N pretended to understand, she truly didn’t. She didn’t understand why he had to keep up this act of being in a happy relationship when he can simply leave his wife -not for her benefit but for his own happiness. Still, every time this fight occurred, they chose to sweep it under the rug. Maybe it was because she wasn’t ready to lose him. He had always been so persistent on his reasoning why he’s been delaying that action. She was scared that he would leave her during another fight only to run back to his wife. What she didn’t know was that she may be a bit too right, after all, he wasn’t ready to admit that his marriage was over. 

“Hi, Baby!” Y/N opens her door to find her “boyfriend” with a bouquet of flowers. 

“Hi!” She wraps her arms around him in a hug as she lets him enter her apartment that they know too well. If she had to be truly honest... despite having so much alone time with Harry, she’s never been on a date with him but you know -that’s something she had to let go when she decided to get involved with a famous married man. Yet it still didn’t stop her heart from feeling envious when she would be in the restaurant with her friends watching a random couple have dinner together.

Harry takes his hood off and hands her the flowers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t text you this past couple of days. You know that woman who lives with me.” He sighs and gives her a kiss on the lips before continuing on, “We were having lunch together and she noticed I wasn’t wearing my ring anymore so we fought.”

“So you’re wearing it.” Y/N places the flowers on the table and crosses her arms.

“I have too.”

“No, you don’t Harry. She’s only wearing her’s for show. You’ve been cheating on her for seven months!” Y/N snaps at him. She hated it when he wore his ring. It was just a real sign that maybe he was lying to her during the times, he said he was over their marriage and he was going to leave her when things become less complicated.

“Baby, hey stop yelling.” He walks towards her so he can wrap his arms around her. “I’m sorry. You know I care so much about you. Please don’t cry.”

“I can’t stand that you’re married to another woman. Please leave her Harry.” Y/N pulls away as she holds onto his shoulders, begging him. “Please.”

“I’ll try.” He breathes out.

“You’ll try?” She pulls away immediately looking at him. “What do you mean? Have you not been trying to do that these past few months!” He rubs his face in frustration. 

“It’s hard Y/N. I told you countless times.” “I know it’s hard but what’s stopping you from doing it! You told me that you don’t want to lose me but for some odd reason, it seems like you don’t want to lose her!”

“She was my first love Goddammit!” He finally yells back at her. 

And that's the thing about illicit affairs

And clandestine meetings and stolen stares

They show their truth one single time

But they lie and they lie and they lie

A million little times

 They both found themselves caught off guard as the silence screamed in their ears. How could this safe space where they spent their nights rolling in the sheets feel so… indifferent? “Harry please be 100 percent honest with me.” Y/N backs away slowly as she reaches a few feet apart from Harry. “Do you want to leave her?” 

Silence.

“You told me you did? Did you change your mind?” Her eyes widen as she watches the man in front of her absolutely speechless. “I’d punch you, but that would ruin that pretty little face of yours.” She lets out a sarcastic laugh. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”  He stares at the ground with his hands in his jeans. “Of course, I want to leave her! It’s just-”

“Leave.”

“What Baby no!” He quickly looks up and tries to make his way towards her. 

“Harry, stop. What we have is over! I’m not going to let you use me until your stupid sick marriage fixes itself!”

“Y/N that wasn’t my intention I swear! You know what marriage means to me! I can’t simply-”

“Fuck what you think of marriage! You don’t want to leave her but you rather continuously hide me while you go to awards with her -While you go on fucking dates with her!”

“It’s for publicity-”

“I don’t care!” She screams. “I realized that this isn’t working out and we should stop!” The pressure in her chest was making her hyperventilate. “We should have stopped months ago!”

“Fuck I don’t want to lose you, please. You’re the only thing that’s been making me so happy.” He reaches out to take her hands but she simply pulls away.

“Harry! Listen to yourself! You’re married! I’m starting to think you have a fear of having a failed marriage like your mom and dad! But please for the love of God, don’t drag me around because I won’t let you!” Harry’s faces change into anger as he gives her a cold look.

 “Well don’t drag my parents’ marriage into this! I told you that because I trusted you not so you can use it against me!”

“That’s not what I was trying to do!” Y/N pleads. “You won’t lever her Harry! You won’t!” 

“How do you think people will react!” He gestures with his hands. “ After three years of marriage, Harry Styles is getting divorced!” He mimics a random news reporter.

“So-” “I’m not going to let myself be categorized under Hollywood’s failed marriages!” “It was already failing before you met me! Can’t you see I just want you to be happy!”

“I am happy when you’re with me!”

“Well, I’m not!”

“You don’t mean that.” Harry scoffs as he runs his hand through his hair in frustration. 

“How can I not? I’m hearing stories every day about your fights at home. This isn’t even a relationship Harry! It’s an affair! An illicit one! And I-I’m a secret!”

“I don’t want to share you with the public! They will judge us and they’re going to ruin you as they ruined me!” He rambles on. “I’ve been stalked and judged for things I didn’t know matter!” 

“I would rather go through that with you -than to watch you from far away and only have you with me when we’re here inside this apartment.” She points at the floor. 

“I can’t Y/N. I can’t let that happen and I won’t.”

“Then this is over then.” She quickly wipes her tears as she notices Harry doing the same. The yelling seemed to die down as they finally realized that this problem they tried to ignore wasn’t going anywhere.

“You know… for some reason, you taught me a lot of things.” Harry clears his throat as he wipes his wet palms on his pants. “Despite only letting you have one half of me. You somehow took over my whole mind. God, I would love to fight for you Y/N.” He looks at her as he feels tears forming in his again. “I do - I truly would.” A pause happens before he continues, “ For you, I ‘d ruin myself a million times but I would never let you do the same.” He emphasizes to her. “ I don’t want to let you go but I know I should because even if I go get that divorce, I’d still want to keep you as my secret -and that’s not what you want.” 

“I-” Y/N stops herself. She wanted to tell him that she loves him but she knew it wouldn’t help them at all. “I’ll still see you for a while. After my internship though, I’ll be gone.”

“Do you think we’ll stay in touch.”

“I don’t think we should.” She blurts it out as her eyes glance at the fresh bouquet sitting on her table. 

“Alright. I guess that’s it.” Harry sniffles a bit before walking to the door. “I’ll see you.”

“Goodbye.”

And Y/N thought she wouldn’t have to see him again after her internship. Although her heart was broken, she found herself counting the days until she can find a new job. After their unexpected ending, she no longer found herself lonely in the mornings but during the nights too. 

The days he came by the office were more difficult than she thought. She would still feel his gaze on her during their meetings but he no longer greeted her nor gave her any attention. He would walk right past her desk when he visited the office but he would act as if he never knew her in the first place - Not a glance or a wave. 

And that was fine with Y/N, at least she tried her best to think it was. Until her meeting with Rob a week before Harry’s album release. 

~

“Y/N, I would love to offer you a job here at the company. I  will give you a position in Marketing for Harry Styles.” Rob hands her a manila folder across the table. “ You know a few months ago, he spoke about your hard work and how much potential you have and he’s right. This would look great on your resume and the pay will be better here than if you were to start off at another company.” 

Days of thinking and non-stop anxiety flooded Y/N’s mind. She knew her plan was to cut all ties with the pop star but the career that had just been handed to her had so much potential. Potentiality can help her with her student loans and give her a more comfortable life. She would be stupid if she passed the offer because of him. So with no more hesitation, she took her phone and called Rob.

“I’ll take the job offer.”

Part two here!!

[butiknewyou]

I’ve thought about bye bye baby every single day since fearless tv was released and I think it is maybe the most fitting closing track taylor has ever written and also the greatest song of all time

— the album itself has a lot of references to the way things “should” turn out: a loyal prince in love story vs the betrayal in white horse, the perfect guy in twily not being who she really wants, forever not really being true in forever & always. the first line in this song is about exactly that loss of hope: it wasn’t just like a movie and there isn’t going to be a happy ending this time around.

— when the song starts, it’s not really obvious what exactly happened. she keeps her voice steady while she’s telling us that she can’t ever drive that way again and she’s feeling lost until it all comes to a head and she bursts out “I still love you but I can’t”. the way she chooses to deliver her vocals on this song is next level: the acceptance and pain and heartbreak and strength shows how internally conflicted she is

— speaking of that lyric, that concept is the central theme of the song: wanting someone or something but turning away from them when they offer you less than you deserve. it’s sprinkled all throughout the song: “you’re all I want but it’s not enough” / “I want you bad but it’s come down to nothing”. this also relates to “you took me home, but you just couldn’t keep me”: they wanted her too, but on their own terms. she thought they were going to keep her and decided it wasn’t worth it if they weren’t.

— “and back to your hesitation / I was so sure of everything / everything I thought we’d always have / guess I never doubted it / then the here and the now floods in / feels like I’m becoming / a part of your PAAAAAAAAST” AKSJDNSKJSNSJS!!!!!!!!!!!!! greatest extended verse ever written. the juxtaposition of their hesitation and her certainty along with her past belief vs the present situation vs the fact that she’ll live in their past now. also when she wrote this over a decade ago it was “the here and the now comes in” and “floods” is such a better word choice I love that she made that decision

— “and all the pages are just slipping through my hands and I’m so scared of how this ends” what a beautiful way of saying that the unwritten future she was so certain of is now falling apart. a tie back to the first line too: if it won’t end like a movie, how does she know what will happen next?

— most importantly!!! I’m pretty sure she wrote this song about a specific person originally but on this album it is a very clear nod to big machine: “you took me home, but you just couldn’t keep me” ties into “I can go anywhere I want, just not home” and how they offered her the “deal” to earn her masters back one at a time and she decided she’d rather leave entirely. the original version of the album is ended by change and she’s thanking scott for sticking by her and proud of what they accomplished together. it’s absolutely brilliant that she ended the new version of the album by addressing the same person, but this time explaining why she had to leave.

[farfarawaygirl]

I’m genuinely asking if you ship buck and Eddie. Because everyone in the entire fandom seems to and you’re literally the first blog I’ve seen that even remotely acknowledges Taylor. FYI I don’t ship buddie, not for any negative reason I just don’t really see anything there

I wrote an exceedingly eloquent reply to this ask just this morning, but Tumblr was glitching, or my internet was... and now I'm going to try and remember how smart I was earlier.

First, I will start off by saying that I only started watching 911 in 2021, before that I had never watched it, or been interested. But, I am a lover of first responder shows - shout out to my FAVES The Rookie and Chicago Fire - and between it being on Disney+, 'Rona, and other circumstances I started to watch it. The only interaction I had previously had it was through Tumblr, and I started watching it fully think Buck and Eddie were a couple. But, once I saw the show, I realized a lot of what was on Tumblr was radically out of context.

Let me also say, that as soon as I got a read on the characters, I quickly became happy that Buck and Eddie were just friends. For me, the chemistry is not there. They are brothers, and their bond with each other, and Christopher has helped shape them - but, at the end of the day, they're not romantic.

I won't say that the show hasn't teased this - the Christmas Elf, the influencer who left her live stream running, the cross over with 911 Lonestar - but if four seasons in and they've never had either character identify as anything other than straight?

Two other things stick out to me:

1 - there is a lot of LGBTQ+ rep on the show - personally I think there is always room for more, but when you're looking at it from a network standpoint, Fox has more to lose by having Buck and Eddie get together than gain. (Again, not my personal feelings, but just an outsiders opinion)

2 - I really do not get the vibe that the actor for Eddie would be 'chill' with this.

I am not opposed to Buddie, but it doesn't draw me in. Buck/Eddie lacks a lot of what I look for in a ship, things that are really present in BuckTaylor.

Taylor in season 4 is amazing, in four episodes she is well written, she reveals herself and stays guarded, she shows growth and understanding. She is someone important for Buck 3.0.

Together Buck and Taylor have so much more story potential... and they have an easy chemistry that plays well on screen.

One of the reasons I really like Taylor for Buck is that she doesn't treat him like he's stupid, which at times almost every other character does. She calls him on 'bad behaviour' - tricking her to the double date, but still trusts his character enough to call him for a miracle. Even her reaction to Buck telling her that he has never felt like he is enough is wonderful.

One thing media consumers focus on is female relationships, and the Bechdel test (which has a whole other complicated history of sexism and exclusion, but that is a rant for an other day) but part of what I like about Buck and Eddie as friends is that they bond over Christopher, and the job, and their need to have a friend. First responders often have enmeshed relationships, so I don't get the romance vibe, so much as a trauma vibe.

All this to say, I ship BuckTaylor, but more than that, I want good writing for all of these characters!

[lifeofa-fangirl]

I don’t want you like a best friend

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC

Summary: Taylor Swift causes OFC to put her friendship with Tom on the line

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: A few swear words, a tiny bit of angst maybe? Mostly fluff

A/N: I was stuck on my Damiano David x Reader piece, so I decided to take a break and finally finish this one. I have nothing against Taylor Swift, just used her as a plot piece to move the story along. As always, likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

‘Please come to the BAFTAS with me?’

Lauren scrunched her nose together in slight confusion when a text from her best friend appeared on her phone. The words were simple enough. It was a plea to hang out, similar to the ones where he insisted that he needed to come to Edinburgh again soon. He was constantly begging her to keep the guest room ready, so he could hop on a train and come visit. It had always been too long in his opinion. She never disagreed.

They knew each other a little over a year now and Lauren was still surprised how they’d grown so close so quickly. She always felt like she still hadn’t fully recovered from their first night out together. 

Thinking back at how she’d actually gotten to meet Tom, it still felt like a dream. She still didn’t get how she of all people had gotten lucky enough to win the Omaze raffle that Mark Ruffalo had done. The winner was flown out to LA to hang out with Mark for the weekend and attend the Thor Ragnarok premier. By some lucky strike from the faiths, that had been her. 

She also still didn’t know the exact details of how or why the faiths had written Tom into the story. But the fact was that she had reminded Mark of Tom, he’d introduced the pair, insisting that they would click immediately and they should walk the red carpet together. Lauren still suspected him of setting this up on purpose to distract the press from any spoilers that he would almost definitely be giving away by accident. 

It hadn’t helped Mark much, as he had practically live streamed 20 minutes of the movie, but he hadn’t been wrong on the other front. Lauren had never heard or read a story about Tom that had anything bad to say about him. Charismatic, funny, intelligent and so very kind, was the vibe that clung to him. Lauren had been nervous about meeting him, she believed in never meeting your heroes, and had been scared that he wouldn’t live up to the picture she had painted of him in her mind. But Tom turned out to be exactly as amazing as all the stories deemed him to be. And Lauren had taken an immediate liking to him.

Mark had also been right about the press attention. When Tom had showed up with a date on the red carpet in the first time in forever, the press had had a field day. The constant flashes and questions, all the attention on her, Lauren hadn’t liked it one bit. But Tom had been the perfect gentleman. He constantly had had an arm around her to keep her steady and make her feel safe. He had handled all the questions with patience and grace, never once making her feel uncomfortable. 

And in the end, all the attention had been worth it. They had a lot of fun at the premier, so much that Tom and her had spend most of the reminder of their time in LA hanging out together. As the faiths would have it, they had even been on the same flight back to England, on which he definitely hadn’t boother her up to first class and she definitely hadn’t fallen asleep on his shoulder. 

Lauren had always felt like there could have been something more, but they both had busy lives and had gone their separate ways after the plane had touched ground in London.

They had, however, exchanged phone numbers early on during their stay in LA. To arrange any practical details of whatever they were going to do together of course, no other reason. 

But in the year that followed, the exchange of numbers had led to an almost constant stream of texts. Tom would share snippets of the stuff he was working on, cute pictures of his dog or just something beautiful he had come across on his daily run that he insisted made him think of her. She would vent about the trouble she came across during her shifts in the hospital or send funny pictures of her deeply loved godson.

They had become quick friends, but after twelve months Lauren still wasn’t sure what exactly they had going on. Whether they were bound to stay friends or if there could be something more on the horizon. Every now and then, Tom’s texts would take a flirty turn. But even though she always tried to send a cheeky return, she wasn’t sure what it meant. She knew that, even without realizing he was doing it, Tom tended to be a big flirt with everyone. 

And nothing else had ever happened. She had gone to London a few times, but mostly he came up north to Edinburgh whenever he had the time. She had quickly come to realize he liked how peaceful it was compared to buzzing London. They would hang out in their little cocoon and that was that. 

Every now and then some pap shots would appear of them. Walking Bobby, going for a coffee or grabbing dinner. Friends would always tell her they looked like a couple, the way they stood huddled together, how he had his arm around her lower back or hers was linked through his. But that’s what friends did, right? They hung out together and that’s all there was to it. They were imagining the extra sparkle they claimed to see in his eyes when he was looking at her. Because there was no way Tom was returning the feeling she told everybody she definitely hadn’t developed for him. 

And strangely, most of the time she was content about that. Because she wasn’t seeking any attention and she definitely didn’t want to be known just as ‘Tom’s girlfriend’. And Tom knew that. He respected that and liked it. Because it also meant that in return, with her he could be just Tom, instead of the A-list superstar. They had their own little safe haven together. It was the reason Tom had never asked her to attend an event with her again. And it was the reason she was confused that he was asking her now.

‘Pretty please? Put your loving hand out baby, I’m begging. Begging you.’

Another text brought Lauren back to the present and out of her thoughts. She snorted when she noticed he gave her a taste of her own medicine. Working lyrics into a text or conversation was her specialty, but apparently Tom had taken to drastic measures. She was still confused as to where this was coming from, but also knew she couldn’t say no to Tom, especially not when he was begging. 

“Sure, I guess that could be fun,” she agreed.  She pushed away all thoughts of this being a bad idea and decided to try and just make a fun night of it.

And fun she had. She accompanied Tom to the red carpet, the preshow dinner and the public ceremony. And while she hadn’t expected it, Lauren ended up having a phenomenal time during all of it. She cheered along with Tom when Guillermo De Torro won best director. She got to meet the wonderful Karen Gillan and Tom introduced her to Hugh Laurie, whom she had adored ever since watching Black Adder as a kid.

And she finally found out the actual reason why Tom had begged her to come along with him. Tom had insisted that he’d just wanted her there and wanted to have a good time and that it was time the world got to know the fabulous person Lauren was. But the moment they were on the red carpet and she saw the look on his face when he saw his ex girlfriend step into the spotlight, she knew.

It had been almost 18 months since Tom and Taylor had broken up, but surprisingly it was the first time they attended an event together. Tom managed to give Taylor a polite nod when she passed them, a motion that Taylor didn’t bother to copy. Lauren was suddenly very aware of the cameras around them and she deeply hoped they captured the once over that Taylor gave her, which ended in a look of disgust. Tom certainly had, as Lauren felt his arm slip around her waist to pull her closer to him and felt his lips press a quick kiss on the top of her head. She did her best to ignore the beat her heart skipped.

Things went back to normal, or as normal as the red carpet of an award show could be, after Taylor entered the venue and was out of sight of the cameras. Tom relaxed again, did his best to be his charming self for the interviewers. They enjoyed the show, loved Stephen Fry’s jokes while presenting and overall had fun together. It was a great night. Until Taylor arrived at the after party they were attending.

Much later she would learn that Taylor’s most recent boyfriend had called it quits a day or two before, but the night itself Lauren just knew there would be trouble the moment she spotted Taylor. The singer clearly was more than a little tipsy and despite the loud music, Lauren could almost hear her snarl the moment she spotted Tom, whose arm was hanging loosely around Lauren’s shoulder.

She should have warned Tom, because he hadn’t noticed the singer walk in yet and was happily chatting to the friend besides him. Instead, Lauren felt slightly hypnotized as she watched Taylor. They stared at each other for a moment and in the next, Taylor was walking up to the DJ booth with determination in her step. Lauren watched her greet the man. She shot him a fake smile, gave him a hug and then told him something. The DJ nodded with what looked like a loud laugh and gave her a thumbs up.

As Taylor walked away, Lauren immediately got a bad vibe. She turned her attention to Tom, wanting to inform him about his ex girlfriend just walking in and how she thought she was up to something. But before she could get a word out, the DJ’s voice boomed through the speakers. “Next up we have a request from none other than miss Taylor Swift herself. She asked me to pass along a message. So here it goes: this one is for you, Tom!”

It took a few moments, but when Taylor’s voice sounded through the speakers and she murmured, “No, nothing good ever starts in a getaway car,” all heads in the room seemed to turn in Tom’s direction. 

Lauren was still staring at Taylor, her mouth slightly agape, when she realized Tom’s friends around them had started fussing. She turned around to get a glimpse of Tom’s reaction and found him red-faced and clearly embarrassed. 

Nobody around them seemed sure how to handle the situation and Tom’s face now seemed to drain from all color rather fast. In a split second Lauren decided she needed to distract him and did the first thing that came to mind. She grabbed him by his suit jacket to pull him closer and get his attention and yelled, “Well we’re just a wet dream for the webzine!”

Tom’s face immediately told her the tactic had worked. It scrounged up in confusion. He stared at her for a few long moments and then he yelled back, ”What?”

“It’s a Panic at the Disco song,” Lauren explained, doing her best to be heard over Taylor’s song still blasting through the boxes. Straining her voice, she continued, “It goes: Well we’re just a wet dream for the webzine, make us it, make it hip, make a scene.” She let out a small snort when she realized, “Coincidently the song is called London Beckoned Songs About Money Written By Machines. It continues: Or shrug us off your shoulders don’t approve a single word that we wrote. And then the next verse goes-���

Before Lauren could get out any of the next verse, Tom interrupted her. “You really have a song for every occasion, don’t you?” he wanted to know. He was smiling and seeing him happy again made Lauren’s heart jump more than just a little. She felt so proud she was the reason he was smiling again.

She did her best not to give away what Tom’s reaction was doing to her by simply shrugging in response. “It’s kind of my thing I guess,” she allowed him. Then, not able to help herself, she continued, “As I was saying, in case you are interested, the song continues: just for the record, the weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of A indifference or B disinterest in what the critics say.” 

Her words caused Tom to let out a loud laugh. “You’re more than a bit crazy, you know that?” he told her. But his words didn’t carry any venom to it and his actions confirmed that he was more than happy to have her around: without another word, he pulled her into a hug. “Thank you, love,” he whispered, loud enough for only her to hear.

Lauren’s heart made another jump when she felt Tom press a light kiss against her hair and the smile that was already present on her face only grew wider. ‘Mission accomplished,’ the voice in her head silently confirmed. 

Tom’s smile considerably lifted the mood of the people surrounding them and the rest of the night Lauren and Tom spend dancing with their friends and having a good time. And Lauren couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud about the fact that every time she looked at Taylor from the corner of her eye, she could see her staring at them green with envy.

Quite some time after midnight, Tom and Lauren were both still high on adrenalin from the evening, but the party had started to die down and they too decided to call it a night and drive home. 

Not completely ready to quit the party just yet, Lauren plugged her phone into the sound system and put a playlist of her favorite songs on shuffle.

They had just jammed out to Fleetwood Mac, pulling out their best carpool karaoke moves, when a new song started and a too familiar voice filled the car. “I don’t like your little games, don’t like your tilted stage, the role you made me play -“

“Shit, sorry, sorry!” Lauren grabbed her phone and stopped the song as soon as she heard the first lines, but it was already too late. Tom had obviously recognized Taylor’s voice. The mood in the car went from ecstatic to ice cold in three seconds flat.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Tom’s voice was void of emotion, his knuckles were white from tightly gripping the steering wheel and Lauren could easily tell he was angry. She couldn’t blame him either.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” she apologized. She switched to another song in a desperate effort to change the mood again. “I should have thought about this.”

“Well clearly you didn’t,” Tom answered in a flat tone. “I cannot believe you actually have that CD.”

Lauren understood why Tom was mad, of course she did. After tonight she didn’t blame him. But the whole Taylor story had happened before they knew each other. The record came out before they met and started caring about it each other. Back then it had just been good music to Lauren and she hadn’t really cared what the inspiration behind the songs had been. “I got it before we met,” she tried to explain. “Back then I just thought there were some good jams on there, that’s all.”

Tom scoffed. “Well, if you like it so much, maybe you should play Getaway Car again?” 

Lauren was sure a little crack had just appeared in her heart from all the ice in his voice. She blinked a few times in an effort to keep the tears at bay. “You know that song means nothing to me!” 

She cringed at the desperation in her own voice. But it hurt to see him angry at her and she needed Tom to understand that this had been a stupid accident and she would have never played a Taylor song to him on purpose. 

Emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She needed an outlet for them and she almost literally felt her brain to mouth filter short-circuit. And before she realized what was happening, she heard herself say, “Besides, if we are talking about Taylor Swift songs that remind me of you, let me tell you that Getaway Car was never it for me. There’s a whole other song on that album that I link to you. That I can’t get out of my head when I’m with you.”

“And what would that be?” Tom sounded skeptical, as if he couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.

“Dress.”

“Dress?” Lauren could hear the confusion in Tom’s voice. When he briefly glanced over at her, she noticed a frown on his forehead. “Isn’t that the one that is supposedly about Ed Sheeran?”

It seemed like the surprise of Lauren’s confession had calmed Tom down a bit. The effect she had hoped for, but at the same time, it also meant he wanted an explanation. He deserved one. 

Lauren closed her eyes for a few moments and took a deep breath. She realized that this was it. She just ruined their friendship. And she wasn’t sure if it was in the worst or the best way possible. But she did know there was no going back now. 

Another deep breath and there she went, diving of the deep end and changing their friendship forever. “I don’t know. But… earlier tonight you asked me if I have a song for every occasion. And well, I guess that maybe I do. And this is the one I have for every occasion I’ve spend with you.” A small pauze as she figured out how to best continue. “I think… maybe you should just listen to the song.”

Lauren could tell Tom had a hard time dividing his attention between her and the road when she felt the car swirl slightly. The movement only made her nervousness worse. She fumbled with the controls of her phone until she finally found the song. 

Neither of them said anything while the song played and they drove through the darkness. Only when the chorus played for the last time, Lauren somehow, somewhere found the courage to sing along. “Say my name and everything just stops. I don’t want you like a best friend. Only bought this dress so you could take it off, take it off.”

The silence that filled the car after the song stopped was deafening. It felt like the longest couple of minutes in in Lauren’s life. When she risked a glance at Tom, she could tell his grip on the steering wheel had tightened again and he was staring at the road ahead with a blank expression. 

“Are you not going to say anything?” Lauren eventually needed to know. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she needed a reaction from Tom, good or bad.

“I’m trying to find a spot to park this car.” For one fleeting moment Lauren was sure she had ruined everything. Tom was going to stop the car and throw her out. And then he continued, “Because I desperately want to kiss you right now, but I don’t think driving and kissing at the same time is a very good idea.”

And Lauren had never been more grateful than that moment that her superpower was having a fitting song lyric for every occasion. 

[blakegallo]

I just saw your flushed-out character anon and response. I'm happy to see people call that out. It can even spread to the actors that play the love interests and the partners of the men behind the characters.

Like, I'm for queer ships, I have nothing against that. Buddie would be fine, I don't see the chemistry a lot of people claim is there, but if that's where the story goes, then that's where it goes.

But a large many people are hating on Taylor and it needs to stop. They will twist themselves into pretzels to make up reasons to hate her, (like I've seen in other places), even when the answers to some of the things she's done can be pretty obvious if you use two brain cells.

She a good character, very well acted, well written and her actions make a lot of sense to me. It's really a shame people are putting a lot of things on her that she doesn't deserve.

sometimes it definitely feels weird for me. bc i only started watching the show because of the buddie chirstmas moment at the end of s2. if i hadn't seen those sets i'm not sure i would have tuned in. it's also the only time i've enjoyed watching ryan guzman. so part of me will always enjoy their interactions. both in terms of them one day being canon and just for whatever they happen to be.

i'm not one to get into deep fandom meta, but a few weeks ago i started to make a post about how buddie reminds me of other ship dynamics, not really in terms of the way the fandom looks at whole plots of episode to fit inside a buddie long con framework, but more of a if buddie were a heterosexual ship i do think that the excuse for them not to be canon would be greater. bc it gives me major swan queen vibes, a ship i never supported really but it's hard to deny when ouat had all kinds of fuckery going on. or at least hetero buddie would have a shot on literally any other first responder show where partners date. [ i mean chicago fire had every eligible male character date sylvie brett at one time or another ]. but 911 hasn't had an in-house romantic relationship. so i'm not really sure how a hetero buddie would fair.

not that any of that is really the point. to get back to taylor it does annoy me to see so much hate lobbed her way with takes that don't really make sense in the context of what is written. i get people bring headcanon and their own analysis to the text, but what the show has presented is a character that has grown. sure off screen, but in the brief time she's been back we've seen that growth illustrated. but none of that really matters when everyone is ready to tear apart any interaction she has with anyone. and no one does that with any buddie interaction ever. the level of scrutiny is not there, it is always the most generous reading of an interaction.

which again, love that for them. you can do that without throwing a whole character under the bus.

i also think it's wild that a character they hate this much lives in the heads of so many people rent free. they make more content about taylor kelly than literally anyone else.

[jlf23tumble]

Hi! I've seen you rec fics before and I'm wondering if you have any recommendations for Harry Styles fics that deal with gender. Like Harry being either nonbinary or that being the focus of the plot in some way. Thanks!

I have GOT YOU, my friend! I answered a similar ask a long time ago, so I’ll bring those recs over, plus add newer ones, just to keep us up to date. Same caveat as before, though--these fics delve a bit deeper into the genderfluid side of the fine line rather than just the “harry in panties” side because I think you’re more interested in the former, but if I’m wrong, let me know! Enjoy!

Us, Me, We, @homosociallyyours, 2.3 (Harry/Harry, Harry/Louis). Featuring Harry trippin’ balls and truly seeing “her” in the mirror.

you make me wanna (how deep is your love), orphan_account, 2.5k (harry/louis). As the notes say, “straight up porn,” featuring trans Harry.

Friendly Fire, @vondrostes, 2.6k (Harry/Ny). Look, you’ll see a lot of Terran here, I had to hold *back*, but he writes tons of pairings, so there’s something for everyone, and I rec it all! In this case, Harry learns an important lesson about why he shouldn’t date straight women.

No Control, thegirlwthekittentattoo, 2.6k (Harry/Louis). The dialogue here is EVERYTHING, it’s cute and hot and emotional yet still funny, like Harry’s bra being named Christi with an “i”, and I loveeee how much is packed in here.

Silent Night, @sulkingroom, 2.7k (Harry/Xander). I’m 99% sure this is Melissa, not orphan_account, but she’s another author who writes stunning fics that play with gender, this one featuring trans Harry at Christmas.

She, Myself, and I, @vondrostes, 3k (Harry/Nick). Angst city, with Harry telling Nick exactly who “she” is.

Every Drop of Rain, haemophilus, 3.3k (Harry/Taylor). Told through Taylor’s eyes, a fascinating look at Harry and his gender journey. (I highly rec this author’s work in other pairings for similar vibes!)

if they find out, will it all go wrong? blankiexrry, 3.4k (Harry/Louis). Gender exploration behind the scenes when the D played MSG, plus extra kink added!

The Assassination of Harry Styles’ Dignity, wishforwishes, 3.5k (Harry/Nick). This one was in the pubefest, and it’s gryles angst hours gorgeously done as Harry ponders shaving past and present (highly rec this author for gender exploration in other pairings, too).

She Feels So Good, Zedi, 4k, and its sequel, Turns Out She’s a Devil In-Between the Sheets, 3k (Harry/Louis). Mannnn, this universe is so good! Part one is behind the scenes of the Late Late Show after Kiwi, and part two is sexi times in Italy. I utterly adore how this Harry shifts right along with her pronouns.

Fertile Ground, Blake/ @newleafover, 4.4k (Harry/Louis). Jesus wept specifically at this story, CHRIST, so much dysphoria-related angst!! The sheer number of moments guaranteed to make you stare at the wall for one (1) hour, help!

into joy i’m sailing, @hereforlou, 4.6k (Harry/Louis). The tenderness LEAPS off the screen in this one, Harry forgets he’s wearing a dress when Louis comes over for dinner, and I peel my heart out of my throat every time.

weird honey, orphan_account, 5.4k (Harry/Louis). I’m a big lurker in fic comments, and these ones give me joy because big names from a time when this Harry drew even more hate than today are here, spreading love and support--who was this author? This story is so GOOD, I’d love to know what else they did! (In this case, a sex toy helps Harry deal with not having a vagina.)

violence of my own touch, 14hrflight/ @got2ghost, 5.2k (Harry/Louis). Chi is yet ANOTHER author to read for spot-fuckin’-on genderfluid characterization (here, it’s alpha/alpha with all kinds of bdsm, dysphoria, angst, and more).

it’s you i want to take apart, orphan_account, 5.9k (Harry/Louis). This author--in the year of our lorde 2012--watched the nail polish interview and created a work of art that went even deeper, their MIND!!! What else did they foretell??!!!!!

Love at Home, @vondrostes, 6.9k (Harry/Xander, Harry/Zayn/Xander). This fic is HYPER-current, like, mid-quarantine, and it features some Zarry history, some pregnancy-related dysphoria, and so much more, plus horses!! (The horses aren’t actually all that involved, I just love to see ‘em.)

Vinyl and Lace, objectlesson/ @alienfuckeronmain, 7.5k (Harry/Louis). This one kills me because it’s XF days, and you get the full-on sensation that this is meant to be kinky play funtime, but it’s going to end up being something much bigger on so many fronts, we love to see it!

Are You Gonna Be My Girl? LoadedGunn, 7.5k (Harry/Louis). EASILY my fave fic this author wrote, basically, Louis talks about his first time with a girl, Harry decides to be that girl, and the dirty talk hits different in the end!

call me anything you like, but my name is, wishforwishes, 9.9k (Harry/members of CHASM). [muffled internal screaming whenever I think of this fic] It starts with BSE Veronica/Zayn and ends with Harry Veronica/Zayn, and so much revelation happens in between, goddddd bless.

fallin’ and laughin’ at the drinks we spilled, enbyharry/ @non-binharry, 14k (Harry/Louis). Asia’s description in the notes kills me, but #vanlife Louis runs into proud Harry in some bar and shenanigans ensue is the upshot!

But She Doesn’t Know Who I Am series, jaerie, 15k (Harry/Louis). I love that one of the tags here is “louis asks inappropriate questions” because that’s honestly most of what happens!! 

o/o angst series, HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals, 17k (Harry/Louis). I miss Nina’s writing like a phantom limb, and I doubt they’ll return to this universe, but I swear, I will read (and rec) ANYTHING they produce when the muse visits them again! This one is as its title says, and it doesn’t disappoint, heavy sigh.

Grenadine Sunshine, objectlesson/ @alienfuckeronmain, 18k (Harry/Louis). This fic is a peach of a pearl written as a gift for one of this fandom’s best authors, and it perfectly captures the Mood of that author, with so much softness, makeup, gender, and tender.

Alpha Louis/Alpha Harry series, 14hrflight/ @got2ghost, 22k (Harry/Louis). SO MANY GENDER ISSUES EXPLORED HERE, WOW!! College roommates come to terms with their identity, and, mannnnn, do I love it when a/b/o gets unstraightened, if you will, chef’s kiss all around.

Nothing You Can Do (But You Can Learn How to Be You in Time), Teumessian, 28k (Harry/Louis). Also known as the pinterest fic, this one is just so soft and lovely, an identity story told through hair (among other things).

genderfluid!harry series, istajmaal, 33k (Harry/Louis). This entire series hits just as hard today as it did when it was written in 2013, a time when people were aggressively trying to make fetch frat boy Harry happen (some of ‘em still are, lmao). Anyway, this is another author I highly rec for all their other fic, but this one does an A+ job of describing Harry’s gender exploration mid-D madness. 

Amor Victorious, HappyPrincess/ @pattern-pals, 38k (Harry/Louis). Another brilliant work from Nina, you feel like you’re on this journey with them, PLUS it dives deep into gender identity struggles, PLUS it throws a/b/o for a loop, all of which equals a big yes from me!

hush., wankerville, 41k (Harry/Louis). One of my all-time faves, this one tackles so many phobias, all while being set in a small-town America high school AU and managing to be the softest, most gorgeous, most hopeful thing in spite (because?) of that.

Time Passed, coffinofachimera/ @belialsmiracles, 66k (Harry/Louis). LISTEN, I WILL NEVER, EVER SHUT UP ABOUT THIS FIC, I can only hope the author will bless us with a timestamp or something else entirely, it’s so beautifully done, it makes you think of nothing else for days, it RUINS you for other fic (I highly rec the author’s other work, too). You’ll never look at Tokyo Harry the same way again (or listen to “She” or “Fine Line” without getting more than a little misty). GOLD STAR!

Made of Lightning, @vondrostes, 74k (Harry/Louis, Harry/Liam, Harry/Louis/Liam). Just...the tags on this don’t do full justice to the journey of it, to the imagination of this specific timeline! I adore how Terran writes trans Harry!

Second Spring, @vondrostes, 103k (Harry/Louis). Speaking of Terran writing trans Harry, this one covers all the ins and outs of her surgical transition, how she recovers, and how she and the people around her deal with puberty no. 2. 

[djrelentless]

When I say "It Gets Better", I mean it! (October 3rd, 2011)

I just finished watching Anderson Cooper's show on "bullying in schools". Sparked by the death of Jamey Rodemeyer, it started an interesting conversation between my husband and myself. Anderson had several stories of kids. Some who committed suicide and a few that are still here dealing with the problem. All sad stories that brought up memories of my teen years.

Jamey Rodemeyer

As I remember, the kids who were picked on were the outcasts. The "not-so-attractive", the "feminine boys", the kids  who were different in appearance and attitude were all fair game. Given the fact that my grandmother kept my hair in cornrow braids when I was in elementary school, I was most definitely considered to be a "sissy". I was constantly being told "Oh...what a cute little girl". Of course while all the other boys were interested in sports and outdoor activities, I was only interested in music and art. Both of my uncles played football. It never struck a chord with me. I would rather be in the backyard playing wit my grandmother's old pots and pans.

By the time I reached Junior High School, the bullying had escalated into pushing and tripping in the halls. Although I am very tall today, I was quite the skinny runt back in the 7th grade. My worst bully was a kid named Craig. I won't reveal his last name, but anyone who remembers me from back then would know who he is. And Craig made my life a living hell. I was afraid to walk home from school. I had to find alternative routes every other day. The worst part was that he lived right around the corner from house.

My childhood, like many out there, was filled with adversity. My mother and father married too young and were not ready to be parents. I ended up being raised by my grandmother, but by my teen years my parents had made a couple of cameos in my life. Since I was the first grandchild, my grandmother sorta let me express myself the way I wanted to. She said nothing when I would run and grab her wigs to do little shows for the family at Christmas time. She always encouraged me to sing and dream of being a star. Coincidentally, earlier today on Dr. Phil he had the author of "My Princess Boy". Sure wish that book would have been around I was coming up.

So, between the absence of my parents and also being molested by a family member, I had some days that really made me question why I was here. What did I have to live for? And believe it or not...the thought of suicide never crossed my mind. For some reason, I actually believed that there was going to be a tomorrow. I knew that one day I would be in control of me. That voice in my head that told me that I could survive this period in my life kept me alive. It made me want to show all the bullies and the P.E. coach that told me that I was never gonna be nothing that I was someone.

In 1980, I had a friend who worked at the Tampa Tribune named Kim Eisler who introduced me to the world of journalism. During one of the cameos of my mother back in the late 70's, Kim was our neighbor. He was a great influence on me. He took me to work with him and I met a lot of the editors. So, one day when my mother was at work, I got dressed in my Sunday best and walked downtown to the Tribune building. I lied to the the front desk and said I had an appointment with the City Editor, Joe Registrado. He remembered meeting me and said that I could come up. And off the top of my head at the age of 12, I came up with a small presentation with my hand written newspaper that myself, Travis Oullette and Gino Marino  produced and sold around school with some drawings that I had done. I told Joe that I wanted to write for the Tampa Tribune and that the paper needed a column for its younger readers. He sat and listened then left me in the conference room for about ten minutes. When he returned, he told me that I was hired for the summer. This would change my life forever.

The first article I wrote for the Tampa Tribune.

When I started at Wilson Junior High back in Tampa, I felt confident that everyone was going to want to be my friend. I had articles in the local newspaper and I had collected all of the promo material that they threw out for all the latest music acts out of the time. Back then, promo kits came with folders that were made to look like the album covers. So, I used those as my school folders. I had photos of the stars and had plenty of stories about what I had learned that summer while working for the paper.

Of course you know, those things were impressive to some, but not to all. Craig hated me even more! And to make matters worse, his girlfriend Felicia seemed to have a crush on me. So, he made it his mission to embarrass and humiliate me every chance he got. And with 7th grade also came showers after P.E. Not such a good idea for a young gay boy who is beginning to notice how bodies change with puberty. I did get caught a couple of times looking a little too long in the locker room, which made the teasing worse.

So, as I explained before, I had to find different ways to walk home to avoid Craig after school. But something interesting happened that school year. One day, I had taken a long route home only to find Craig sitting on my steps when I got there. Extremely scared, I started to walk fast in the other direction. He said to me "I'm not gonna bother you" and then I sat down beside him and we had a conversation about if I liked boys. After "him-hawing" around the subject, I finally confessed that I did like boys. And to my surprise, he didn't beat me up. He actually leaned over and kissed me. This was my first kiss and it came from the school bully. The boy who everyone thought would be a future football star that all the girls thought was dreamy was the first boy I kissed.

It was in that moment that I realized that the voice in head that told me that "it wasn't always gonna be like this" was right. Oh sure....I still had some bad bullying days ahead of me. Craig did act like he was gonna beat up in front of the other guys around school, but I knew that one day I was gonna be in control of my own destiny. I would have the last say when it came to me.

I just wish that I could have told that to Jamey and all the others who took their lives because they couldn't see past the forest of teen-hood. And now the media is talking about anti-bullying laws (which is great), but how do we get to that teen out there who can't see past today, that teen who only dreams of going to school for one day without any trouble or name-calling.

I read some comments about Lady GaGa when she performed a special song at her show for Jamey. Some were saying "how dare she try to capitalize on his death". Others defended her and praised her for speaking out. I have been torn on her career since she started. I think she is a very talented individual. Without the gimmicks and costumes, I actually hear an artist in there. But in this media-crazed world we live in, you have to do something to be seen and heard. I believe she has the ability to be one of those icons who could change the world, but the imagery may get in the way. But I do believe she could be for bullying what Elizabeth Taylor was for the AIDS epidemic: a face and voice for awareness and activism.

The ironic thing is that Jamey actually had made an "It Gets Better" video just a few months before his suicide. He spoke of being inspired by Lady GaGa. I wonder what happened between then and the day he took his life. He seemed optimistic and as though he was dealing with the situation. But as his parents said, he put on a brave face for everyone else.

I am begging everyone to pay closer attention to your friends especially if they are being bullied. This isn't about sexuality. It's about making sure that the human spirit isn't broken so badly that someone would want to end their life. "Support Our Youth"!

[harryskalechips]

Illicit affairs Part three

A/N Hello guys! I’m sorry this part took so long. i’ve been so busy. Thank you for all the support and love. Each and every dm makes my day. I hope you like the ending idk hahaha dm me and send your thoughts! bye, I hope you enjoy

Their illicit affair isn’t really a secret anymore after being caught kissing on camera. Oh Harry, haven’t you learned not to be a romantic in public? Time to watch everything crumble down.

Tw: Cheating, smut

Thank you @harrysleftchelseaboot for letting me participate in your writing challenge! Here is part three! Any new writers or readers please check out the masterlist! 

here are my prompts:

“Promise you’ll stay by my side?”

“Don’t you see I’m trying?”

“It’s okay. I understand. You can leave, they all do.”

 Note: I do not condone cheating whatsoever! Please mind that this story is fictional! As much as it makes me sad to paint Harry as a cheater, it’s part of this storyline I thought of as I listened to Taylor’s album, Folklore.

Word count: 7.5k / Masterlist // Part 1 // Part 2 

When a married person participates in an affair, they already know the consequences that can come out of it. Not only is it a betrayal to their spouse but every vow they said at the altar is washed away and is drowned in a pool of greed and resentment.  Suddenly, their beautiful and favourite memory of their wedding day becomes a cursed thought... at least for Harry Styles. 

 A nightmare. A horrible nightmare that Harry never thought would come true. He sits up immediately half-naked in his sheets after his call with Y/N. He focuses on his phone, swiping through the articles written about their newly found scandal. Truthfully, he wanted to read them all but as he counted and tried to keep track of each one, he realized there were millions out there. 

His wife’s screams and torturing whimpers were hurting his brain, after all, she was just a couple of rooms down the hallway. Of course, he wanted to check on her or pack a bag and leave the house but that wasn’t his main priority. It was Y/N.  He could physically feel his heartache as he saw each headline along with pictures of him and her kissing in the parking lot at LAX. It was his fault. He knew it. He was too excited and happy to have Y/N back in his arms, he never thought a person working there or an undercover paparazzi would manage their way into the private area. 

Was he angry? Most definitely. But there was another feeling he had in his chest that was too stubborn to leave. He hasn’t felt like this in a while. The pressure building around his body like selfish vines, continuing to wrap around him until he choked. Until all the love Y/N gave him these past months were forced to be forgotten. He could feel it from his head to his toes. The unforgettable butterflies when he thinks of Y/N are bleached and gone as his anxiety took over. 

He wanted to cry and scream. His career is gone. His reputation is ruined. His fans are disappointed. His family, his friends -his wife! But most importantly, the woman who makes him the happiest man on earth is exposed to his world. The life he’s been sucked into for the last 9 years has finally sucked her in too. And that’s why he wanted to protect her from it in the first place. 

When he first decided he wanted to share his talents and be famous, he never realized there was a very big price he had to pay. His privacy - his innocent and naive mind being manipulated as he networked as a new celebrity while labels were put on him that he couldn’t fight back. He loves who he is right now but that was because of her and for some time now,  he wished the public could just fuck of. Sometimes he wished he was a regular guy living his own life so he wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit. 

Thinking about his wishes and his life, he almost wanted to laugh at this present moment. Was this a dream or was he right about love? Once he finally commits to a woman he loves, the universe has an odd way of returning his new deck of cards. Stupid, because that’s not how you play and it’s been unfair for him his whole life.

He had to check on Y/N.

He tosses his phone onto the bed and gets ready as he purposely ignores the device and walks out of his room. His game plan was to sneak out of the house and come back later tonight to talk to his wife. It was obvious she knew about his affair and all Harry wanted to do was avoid her. 

“Sneaking out?” fuck. Harry keeps his hand on the railway as he looks behind him to see his wife standing near the wall with her arms crossed. Her eyes were swollen and her cheeks were so puffy. He wasn’t heartless. He felt bad for her.

“I was just going to get some breakfast.” Harry lies as he stares directly into her eyes. She wasn’t the same girl he married and she is no Y/N.

“You mind if you get me some too?” She nonchalantly replies, making him confused about her odd behaviour.

“Yeah, um what do you want?”

“I want to know why you fucking cheated on me.” Her calm strict tone changes into a more aggressive one as she couldn’t keep up her facade. He knew it would happen. 

“Look-”

“You cheated on me and embarrassed our marriage... and um you have the fucking face to tell me you’re going out for breakfast!”

“I wanted to give you some space before we talked about it.”

“You’re a coward! You cheated at least own up to it.”

“Alright okay! I cheated on you!” Harry steps off the staircase and approaches her. They stood 7 feet apart as both of them had rigid and uncomfortable stances.

“How long?” Harry looks up at the ceiling and releases a loud breath.

“Approximately a year.”

“I can’t believe you.” She cries silently as she looks at him in disappointment. She quickly wipes her tears away, knowing that her dignity is already in the ruins because of him. “I know I haven’t been a good wife to you but you haven’t been a good husband. I just never realized you gave up on our marriage already.”

“Are you joking? A couple of months after our wedding you’ve been the one acting cold! I loved you so much but I realized what we had isn’t who we are anymore.” Harry confesses in an agitated tone. 

“Harry after our wedding -You became busy not me! I tried telling you and giving you signs but you ignored me. I explicitly told you and you said you were in a good position in your career where you had so much potential… so I gave you space!”

“I tried reaching out to you so we can spend time together.” Harry furrows his eyebrows at her. “Don’t make me seem like the bad guy here. I was waiting for you to tell me you wanted to work our relationship out again. I gave you space!”

“I shouldn’t be the one to do that, Harry!” She pauses. “As time went by, I realized I didn’t need you as much anymore but I wanted to see what would happen if we stayed together. I still loved you!”

“You stop prioritizing us.”

“You did it first.” She scoffs as she takes her silk robe off her, leaving her in a short nightgown. She was so angry, she needed to find a way to cool off.  “You think I’m stupid? I knew you were seeing someone the moment you started taking that ring off. I just thought you had the common courtesy not to humiliate us and our careers -to not give up on what we signed up for. Our marriage.”

“So you’re saying you were  throwing a fit in your bedroom because I got caught?” Harry steps back a bit. He never realized how fucked up this relationship was.

“Obviously! What do you think I want in the papers? Not your affair with that college whore!”

“Watch your mouth.” Harry deepens his voice as he stares at her intently. “This scandal was not my intention. I’m not stupid like that.”

“Well, you’re stupid enough to get caught!” She rebuttals. She turns around walking to his room as she angrily tugs on the ends of her hair. “I don’t care what you do with your life but you should’ve thought about me and what would happen if anyone found out about our broken marriage.” She opens his walk-in closet and enters, leaving Harry to trail behind her. Without any hesitation, her hands begin to carelessly toss his clothes on the floor, knowing his favourite boots were to be specifically thrown at the wall. She was fuming.

“We had an image to carry and you ruined it because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself in public!”

…

“Y/N, I’m so glad you made it in today. I hope the paparazzi in front of the building didn’t hassle you too much.” Rob enters the meeting room and greets her in a sarcastic tone. “Unfortunately, they’ve been quite a nuisance for the rest of your co-workers.” He places a blank manila folder on the table and sits himself down as he looks at her in a serious manner. Y/N felt like she was being tortured, having just them in the room. “Paul will be coming in shortly, he has to deal with publicity first.” He was the one who called her. She barely saw him these past years as she worked more for Rob here at Columbia Records but she knew he was just as powerful after all, he was the company’s president. 

“They’ve been following me around ever since I left my apartment. Look, Rob, I’m sorry about-”

“Hold that statement. You shouldn’t be sorry.” His finger raises in the air. Y/N watches him carefully as he opens the folder in front of them. 

There… it had pictures of her infamous kiss with Harry, recent articles about the two of them and… her employment contracts. 

“You shouldn’t be sorry,” Rob repeats himself as he picks out the photo of them kissing and slides it to her on the table. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Y/N couldn’t believe this. She knew what was to come but she didn’t want to think it was true! This was her dream job and it was all going to be ripped away from her as if the last 3 years meant nothing to them.

“I have to let you go.”

“Rob, there’s nothing in my contract that says I can’t have a relationship with a co-worker.” Y/N remembers reading that bullet point when she first started her internship at Columbia records. Although it may have been years, that rule couldn’t possibly change.

“I think you’re forgetting Harry isn’t your co-worker but our client.” Another voice answers. Paul opens the door as he hears what she says. He takes the pen from the pocket on the left side of his chest and instantly picks up her contract and circles that point in red. She definitely forgot about that. She finally remembers how months ago she was reading her contract as she sipped her… 3rd glass of wine. 

“Oh.”

“Not just that but any employee that has publicly put our company on blast in front of the media requires immediate dismissal,” Rob adds in.

“Also It’s nice to see you again Ms. L/N.” Paul, a short middle-aged man sits beside Paul. “I had to deal with your mess outside. It’s getting out of control.” He adjusts his tie. “You do understand what actions we must take now?” He asks sternly, barely looking at her as he briefly reads her contract. 

“No, wait! It was a picture that I didn’t know about! Paul...Rob, please don’t do this. I’m so grateful to be working here.” She pleads.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I wish you told me about this sooner so we could have figured something out.” Rob shakes his head in disappointment.  “He’s married you know that. The damage control is more than what you guys could have possibly thought of.”

“I never meant for any of this to happen. Rob, I’m sorry. I truly am.” Y/N begins to cry again as if she wasn’t crying on her drive here. 

“Let me be honest, I  don’t want to let you go but I need to be fair. Our vision statement is to take care of our stars. With the disgrace of your affair being exposed, you can’t continue to work here while Harry is our client. He has a fixed contract so I can’t do anything to help you out.”

“I get it” She pauses a bit as she tries to take everything in.  “I think I should leave.” Y/N abruptly stands up and wipes her tears. She walks forward to give Paul a handshake. She then turns to a standing Rob but he ignores her hand and gives her a hug instead. 

“You have so much potential. I’m sorry your journey with us ends here.”

_

“Never knew you were a lying whore.” Jasmine murmurs under her breath as she walks past Y/N in the office. 

It sucked. It truly did. Y/N could feel all eyes on her as she walked to her office to clean things up. It’s crazy how she used to feel so intimidated walking in these hallways, then after receiving a platinum job offer, she became confident. Now, she’s just embarrassed and ashamed as she packed her things up. 

She tried her best to hold in her tears as she picked each picture frame off her bookshelf. “Everyone hates you, you know.” She looks to the left to see her close friend here from work, at her door.

“I know.” She bites her lip as she can feel tears forming in her eyes once again. Why can’t she stop crying? “You can insult me all you want. I’ve been receiving death threats all day from people I don’t know.” She looks down again and places random books in her bin. 

“Is he the guy you were talking about a week ago or was this something that started in London.”

“We were together for a year until we broke things off a couple of months ago.” Y/N confesses as she wraps her arms around herself. Marissa carefully walks inside the room and approaches her. Without another word, she hugs Y/N very tightly.

“I’m going to miss you around here.” That’s all she said. It gave Y/N a mixed message because she didn’t know if their friendship ended here along with her potential career. A short message like that made her more upset.

To be frank, Marissa didn’t know what to feel. She understood Y/N and Harry. But the affair? If her husband did that to her, she could never forgive them. Maybe that’s how a lot of people see it. Not only was this a betrayal of a spouse but a betrayal of integrity to everyone they know.

And because of this, Marissa made the choice to keep her distance from this sweet girl. How betrayed and played she felt as her co-worker was sleeping with their married client behind the world’s back. 

~

Y/N was a big mess. Her apartment used to be neat and organized as that’s how she is as a person but after coming home from work, scattered objects from her boxes laid lonely on her chestnut floors. 

She sat on along with them, drinking from the bottle of red wine as she read through articles and mean tweets about her. The only hope she had was for Harry to come and comfort her.

The sad thing is… he hasn’t answered any of her texts or calls since she broke the news to him this morning. Funny enough, the display on her screen changed to a call and as she hoped it was Harry...it was her mother calling. 

“Hello?” Y/N answer as she feels her cheeks become wet again. She was so embarrassed to talk to her mom. What does her mother think of her now?

“How have you been, baby?” Thankfully, she wasn’t angry but worried about her well being.

“Everyone hates me, mom. How am I supposed to find a job now.”

“You can come back home and I’ll take care of you.”

“I don’t want to leave LA.” Y/N feels her heart die a bit. LA was her dream. She wanted to make so many memories here. The only thing she gained was a reputation for being a man’s whore. She isn’t ready to leave and move back under her mom’s roof. After all her roof means her conservative rules. 

“I think you need to.” Her mother pauses. “Have you spoken to that celebrity yet?”

“Yes.” Y/N lies. She didn’t want to feel worst, knowing Harry was purposely avoiding her. 

“What did he say?”

“We’re going to talk about it soon.”

“Do you love him?” Her mother shoots out another question after the last one. She genuinely wanted to know how her daughter was but she couldn’t deny the disappointing feeling buried in her chest. 

“Yes.”

“How long were you guys together?”

“A year?”

“Does he have children?”

“No.”

“Why do you think your value is cheap to be sleeping with a married man?”

“Mom!” Y/N eyes widen at the candid question. 

“I’m not trying to hate on you Y/N. I just want to know why you let yourself be in this position.” Her mother lets out a sigh. “Do you think anyone will want to hire you after this scandal? Why couldn’t you wait until he got a divorce?”

“I love him.”

“He manipulated you!”

“No, he didn’t.” She pulls the phone away from her face due to being so irritated. “I thought you called me because you wanted to check up on me -Not to hate on my decisions!” She immediately hangs up the call and lays down on her floor.

Today has got be the worst day of her life.

~

It was the next morning after their affair was exposed and no one was feeling good. The rhythmic pattern of knocks on Y/N’s door wakes her up. She somehow managed to fall asleep on the floor last night leaving her to sit up and glance through her curtains to see the paparazzi loitering around downstairs. Letting out a sigh, she stands up and opens the door. Thankfully, she knew it was Harry from the way he knocked -which made her feel a whole lot better.

She opens the door and catches sight of him in front of her. Hope fills her eyes immediately as she quickly yanks him inside. Without another waste of breath, they hug each other so tightly. “Where were you? You weren’t answering my calls all day.” She mumbles into his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her, making her remember the little bubble they used to have before.

At least she knew they were safe here inside her apartment. 

“I’m sorry. I had to speak to Jeff and handle my wife all day.” He pulls away and holds her face in his hands. “Y/N baby, I’m sorry for everything.”

“It’s okay.” She shakes her head and grabs his hand so she can lead them to her couch. “ Come sit down. How did you find your way into the building without getting caught?”

“I think you forgot I’m a pro at coming over here without getting seen.” He gives a small smile as he looks around her messy living room. “Did you sleep in here last tonight?” The throw blanket and tiny blue pillow on the floor catches his eye. 

“Sorry about the mess.” She pulls her hand away from his. She fixes her hair as she manages to move the boxes out of the way. “I did yeah. Fell asleep.” Y/N bit her lip in anxiety. She was scared to tell him she lost her job because of their relationship. 

“These boxes...” He continues to sit on the couch. He picks up a frame from one of them only to realize it was from her office. “Were you fired, Y/N?” His tone of voice automatically changing into a serious one. 

“Well, I went to the meeting Paul called me in for yesterday. Luckily, I saw Ro-”

“Answer my question.” He deadly stares at her while the frame in his hand is gripped tightly in his fist. 

“Yes.” Harry immediately stands up and reaches behind his pocket to grab his phone. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“I’m calling them, obviously.” He scratches his nose and glances at the window. As he held his phone to his ear on one side, he quickly walked around her apartment closing all her curtains. He keeps his standing stance once he finds himself back in the living room, leaving Y/N to sit on the couch and watch him. 

“Harry, hang up.” She suggests as she watches his every move. “Please, stop.”

“Y/N, they fired you.” He tosses his phone to the floor after being ignored by the company. “They can’t do that!”

“Yes, they can. We um...I uh... I broke rules from my contract.”

“Fuck, Y/N.” She could see how broken he was from hearing that. He stressfully runs his hand through his hair as he looks at her. “I’m sorry for kissing you in the parking lot.”

“It’s not your fault.” She bites her cheek as she looks down at her hands. In all honestly, she did feel some sort of anger towards him -maybe because she just lost her job.

“Are you mad at me?” Harry sits down beside her and guides her to straddle him. She immediately complies and wraps her arms around his neck. She rests her cheek against his chest as she feels a tear run down her face. Hopefully, he doesn’t feel it.

“It’s just...Why are you married?” She fixes her position while she feels his fingers slide underneath her sweatshirt. She lets out a sigh and rubs her face against his thick shirt. “I mean why out of all the days we knew each other, we started out like this? Why did I have to meet you and fall in love?” She lets out her frustrated confession.

“I don’t regret anything.” Harry takes a hard swallow and kisses her temple. She immediately sits up and looks at him with a surprised look on her face. 

“I lost my job and possibly my whole career!”

“Baby hey look,” He tightens his hold on her waist. “You’re not the only one. My career is obviously not doing well too. My fans are disappointed at me and I have this huge scandal on my back.”

“The only difference is you have money.” She crosses her arms. Harry gives her a strange look and sits up a bit. 

“I don’t think we’re understanding each other.” He rests his hands by his side. “I  don’t regret meeting you and falling in love. I don’t regret coming here every night to fall asleep beside you. You make me happy and if there is one thing I realized after our break up, it’s that I love you so much. You never stopped driving me crazy.”

“I’m sorry.” She shakes her head and pouts. “I’m just scared.” She breaks down in front of him. “You mean so much to me. I don’t want to lose you again. Now that I know we’re both fighting for each other, I don’t want to give up.”

“I don’t want to either.” He hugs her tightly. “You’re mine and I’m yours. We’re going to get through this despite what happened.”

~

“Harry.” Rob greets him since he’s already sitting at the table with the rest of their team. As Harry walked in with his coffee, he noticed the empty seat in front of his. That definitely made him angrier more than he thought. 

Instead of greeting everyone with a smile or a handshake, he says nothing and sits down. Today was a serious meeting, so he decided to wear a casual suit. He fixes his blazer and rubs his chin. “Let’s get started,” he speaks up in a monotone voice.

Jasmine speaks up after making eye contact with Rob. “Your name has been trending for the past few days so as Y/N’s.”

“I think I would know that.” He gives her cut eye and rolls his eyes at the end. He remembered last night, Y/N told him what she said to her. If only, he could get her fired. 

“Harry, Tour starts in a month. Should we continue with it?” Rob asks.

“Yes.” He folds his hands on the table, trying to not look at the empty chair. 

“But your reputation-”

“I want to release a public statement.” 

“I think that’s a good idea but what could you possibly say that can help your fans understand your cheat-” Jasmine gets cut off again by Harry.

“Jasmine stop.” He takes a sip of his coffee. Everyone’s eyes widen at his tone.

“Harry, do you know what you want to say?” Darlene, his publicist asks. Jeff stayed silent as he listened to the conversation. Harry quickly glances at him before continuing on.

“I’ll write everything myself and upload them on my social platforms when I’m ready.”

After the meeting ended, Harry stayed in his seat as he watched everyone leave. It was different knowing he would never see Y/N be one of them ever again. Marissa stalls a bit, cleaning up her papers as she looked up and spoke to him. “Shouldn’t you go to Rob’s office so you can join his meeting with Jeff?” Harry nods his head but doesn’t move.

“How is she?” She genuinely asks him. He looks at her and plays with the pen in his hand.

“She’s been locked up inside her apartment for the past two days.” He was too, to be honest. He only left her building to change at his house and come to this meeting. Lately, they’ve been spending as much time together. 

“Can you please tell her I love her?” Marissa leans her hip on the table and quickly wipes away a tear. “I understand her. I just feel a bit betrayed at the moment.”

“Okay.” He sits immediately and pulls out his phone. “I’m going to head to Rob’s now but I hope you girls stay friends. She doesn’t um exactly have anybody except for me.” She nods her head and walks around the table to give him a hug.

“Take care of her, Harry.”

-

Harry’s hands were shaking as he was about to post his message about his cheating scandal for millions to see. He did feel a bit reassured by Rob and Jeff, however. They promised him, they would try their best to fix his reputation and keep him and Y/N out of the media after this blows over. Since he still had two more years with Columbia, Rob also told him he would switch Jasmine out of his team. Maybe things will go well after a while? 

Posted 7:18 PM

A/N Bruh if this picture is blurry fuck I'm going to stuff my fist down my throat.  I’ll just repost the message here hahah booooo! where are my tomatoes? 

harrystyles To my fans, to the people who know me and most importantly to my wife I’m sorry. Nothing can excuse the reason why I cheated. Secretly behind the cameras, my marriage was already on a rocky path that she and I made the choice not to fix. We began to drift away from one another after a couple months in our marriage. With strong denial, both of us chose to let it be and continue the negative impact that was affecting us both. In 2017, I met an intern at my label who I never thought would change my life. I’m sorry that you all had to find out this way. Never in my life would I have thought I would be the man who cheats on his wife but please understand my marriage was broken from the very beginning. I’m not trying to hand out excuses to you all but instead, share an insight into what my life is.  It’s hard to have eyes watching me every day without them knowing anything about me. No one will understand how I felt and what dilemmas and issues I’ve been through but that’s okay. I spoke to my wife and we have decided to officially separate as we realized it was time. Cheating is never okay and I understand if you are angry at me or choose to unfollow me. I will forever be grateful for your support as I continue my journey in life. Y/N, I love you. Thank you for being my rock this past year. I’m sorry for all the hurt you’ve been going through. I know you don’t deserve this because you’re the most genuine and sweetest girl I adore. You’re my soulmate and I wouldn't be as happy as I was without you. H

-

“Are you really going to go?” Y/N bit the sleeve of her sweater as she sat on her bed watching Harry pack his clothes into his luggage. After this past week, he was able to pick most of his stuff up from his house. Now Y/N’s apartment was more claustrophobic than usual. A couple of days ago, he also posted his statement. Luckily most of his fans understood him, even though there is still some backlash about it.

“I disappointed my fans enough. I think I should.” He itches his nose and sits down beside her. “You’re going to be a good girl for me while I’m gone right.” Her cheeks turn red as she shyly nods.

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too.” he kisses her 

“I need to find a job or else my mom is going to cut me off and make me move back home.”

“I’ll figure something out. Don’t worry about it.” He kisses her neck. “Did you forget your boyfriend is a mega-millionaire?”

“He’s also married.” She teases him back. Fortunately, her anxiety hasn’t been that bad due to Harry being by her side 24/7. She was getting used to being in their bubble all the time. 

“Not in 6 months.” his tongue dips out of his mouth as he gives her little kisses on her chest. “You’re really beautiful did you know that?”

“I think you’re gorgeous.” She bites her lip as she takes in the smell of his cologne on her pillow. It’s been nice waking up to him every morning. Something she has not been able to really do ever since they started seeing each other.

“Mmm, really.” He looks up her at her as he slowly raises her thin T-shirt. “Are you trying to get some extra brownie points before I leave?” He kisses her belly button. 

“Maybe?” She squints her eyes and smiles at him.

“I love you, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

“I love you.” She reaches for him again so they can kiss. His hands quickly hold onto her waist as she sits up and tries to remove his shirt. “You’re going to be leaving me again” She whispers to him while she stares into his green eyes.

“I’ll be thinking of you every day.”

“Without you, I’m scared. Promise you’ll stay by my side.”

“I’ll check on you daily. I got you as long as you got me.” He gives her a cheesy smile making her eyes light up. He leans down to kiss her once more as he guides her to lay down on the bed. “Remember the first time I fucked you? On your dining room table.”

“Mhm.” Y/N hums as she feels his hands take off her shorts. 

“How about that time after we got back together and I ate you out on the plane?”

“Harry.” She bites her lip while she watches him rub his two fingers on her wet center. 

“You’re such a good girl for daddy yeah?”  He slips his fingers underneath the fabric then gives it a taste. “I’m going to miss the way you like crazy baby.” he bits his lip as he sits on his knees. He takes her legs and opens them a bit wider. His hands roam her body as if this was the last time they were going to be together.

“I want you now.” She lifts her shirt up as she watches Harry grope her breasts. 

“Patience bub.” He smirks at her as his hands take her underwear off. “You’re my baby.” He softly bites her nipple. “My precious girl.” He kisses the spot where her heart is. “I think you were made for me.” 

She smiles softly as she kisses the same spot on his body. “You deserve the world.”

“Aw fuck. I‘m so in love with you.” He smiles so happily as he looks up at her ceiling. He’s never felt like this with anyone except for her. It’s everything about her that reels her in. Her smile, her soft personality, her sweet kisses, and her loving soul. How did he miss out on her before?

“Well, don’t just say it. Show me.”

-

It’s been a month since Harry left for tour and although he promised to check on her every day -it stopped. 

At first, Y/N thought nothing about it. After all, maybe he’s just busy with his shows (you know since he’s touring the world but after a while, he stopped answering her texts. That’s when she knew he was doing it on purpose. 

At the moment, she was working at an art gallery in East Los Angeles. Luckily, she was working in the offices upstairs sorting their finances. It was hard at first finding a job and that was something she never told Harry.

Every record label and management wanted nothing to do with her. Y/N could barely leave the house without a group of girls whispering behind her back. Lastly, she still had new recent paparazzi pictures of her on daily mail.

Without Harry, she felt lonely and excluded from everyone else in Los Angeles. She still cried herself to sleep on some nights because she just felt like an overall disappointment.

/

Knocks on her door make her confused as she cooked herself some lunch in the kitchen. Dusting her hands off on her apron, she lets go of her knife and tomato and heads to the foyer.

“Hello.” There she was. In real life. Harry’s ex-wife. Y/N has only seen her once and now that it was her second time, she still felt intimidated. 

“Hi.” Y/N unties her apron and hooks it on the hook beside her. She felt insecure to be in such a lousy outfit compared to her boyfriend’s supermodel ex-wife. 

“I’m sorry I came out of the blue. I got your address from my assistant and I wanted to speak to you.”

“Oh, that’s okay. Come inside. Did you see any paparazzi.”

“Harry told me to go through the back.” Does she still speak to Harry? He’s been ignoring me for a few days now. 

“Um Okay. Would you like anything?”

“No.” She gives a soft smile as she looks around her apartment. She eyes Harry sweater laying on the other couch and takes a swallow. “I wanted to see you face to face than through call. Plus I wanted to see the apartment my husband would sneak off to every night.”

“I’m sorry about what Harry and I did to you.”

“Don’t mention it.” She shakes her head. “You’re just sorry because you got caught.” Y/N’s eyes widen. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. I came here to get some closure so I can move on with my life. We sold our house in hidden hills. Although my marriage was broken I think being publicly humiliated was traumatizing enough.”

“I understand.” she tucks her hair behind her ear.

“Do you love him?”

“Yes.”

“Does he make you feel special? Make you feel like your the only girl in the world?” She eyes her apartment once more. “Does he fuck you until you forget your own name?”

“I’m sorry what the fuck.” Y/N stands up and crosses her arms. “What are doing here? Get to the point.”

“I’m just here to tell you that whatever he makes you feel right now, it’s going to disappear. After all, he’s famous. He can have anything in the world. It won’t take too long until he gets tired of you.”

“Get out of my apartment.”

“You should’ve gotten out of my marriage before you weaselled yourself in bitch!”

“Leave!” Y/N shouts. As she takes the woman’s Gucci bag and throws it towards her door. After she left, Y/N couldn’t help but cry and lose her appetite for lunch.

I’m a whore. I’m a whore. I’m nothing but a whore.

~

She was starting to get used to having a pale life. Where there were no butterflies or colours. No new exciting promotions or scenarios at work. Now she adapted to a routine of eat, sleep and repeat. 

What sparked her day differently today, however, was the arms wrapped around her as she woke up in her sheets. It was him. 

“Harry?” She slowly opens her eyes as she turns onto her back to see him half-awake as he laid down on the pillow beside her. 

“Hi.” He gives her a soft smile. 

“What are you doing here?” She sits up and looks at her phone. “Don’t you have a show tomorrow in Canada?”

“Mhm. I missed you though.” He pulls himself closer to her and kisses her arm. 

“You’ve been ignoring my texts this past week.” She pushes her arm off him and pouts.

“That’s because I was busy and I was scared I might tell you my little secret a bit too early.”

“What?”

“Get dressed.”

~

Y/N kept silent as she watched Harry drive in his car. She sat in the passenger seat observing the way he drove. One of his hands on the wheel as the other held her hand. The shades on his eyes resting so pretty on the bridge of his nose. He was such a dream to look at. 

“How have you been, baby? How’s that job at the art gallery?” He glances at her before pulling his hand away so he can take a bite out of her bagel. It was the early morning so the sun was just about to rise as they continue to drive forward.

“It’s been boring. No one has been really talking to me. If they do, they ask if I can get you to meet them.” She rolls her eyes and takes his arm so she can take a bite of the bread in his hand. 

“Your boyfriend is famous? He can’t be that popular?”

“He was actually trending for a few days.” She smiles. “How have you been?”

“I’m still getting shit from my management because of what happened a month ago.” He takes another bite of the bagel as he keeps his eyes on the road. “You know, I think if the gossip sources would stop talking about it, everyone could move on. This is about us not them. They’re just judging us without any mercy.”

“I know.” Y/N thinks back about the death threats flooding her Instagram dms. 

“We’re here.” Harry signals his light as he turns into a long-hidden driveway. Suddenly a big beautiful white home comes into view. Y/N never thought houses this big would be in Malibu.

“Who’s house is this?” She asks as she gazes at the beautiful sunset behind the home. The ocean was beautiful as the sunlight reflected against it. Harry ignores her as they both approach the main door.

Y/N was waiting for him to knock or call the owner but instead, he opens it. “Harry, you can’t do that!” He smiles and looks at her.

“Why not?” He walks in and looks straight at the big window showing the water. 

“This isn’t your house.”

“True.” He shrugs his shoulders and turns himself towards her. He takes his hands and rests them on her waist. 

“Then uh who’s is it?” She widens her eyes and looks around the beautiful big home. 

“It’s ours.” 

“What? Is this why you’ve been ignoring my texts?” he nods as she jumps into his arms. 

“I was a bit busy decorating a new home and running a world tour.”

“I love you. I hope you know that.” She gives a small smile and hides her face in his chest.

“I love you too baby.” He smiles and spins her around. “I’m sorry for all the shit I put you through.”

“It’s okay. Thank you for the new home.” she pulls away and looks at the view in front of them. She takes a big gulp and looks at him.

And as much as Harry thought this was his happy ending with the girl he loves, he never took into account how much their exposed affair has impacted her. 

He never realized that she didn’t want to stay in California anymore. That she feels like a new stranger in this life that she built. That her dream career was taken away from her. What’s going to happen? Can love truly sustain them both as reality continues to stuff their consequences down their throats?  

“As much as I want to live here with you here, Harry… I don’t think I can. I don’t think I’m ready.”   

“Y/N.” Harry was not expecting that answer. “It will be like the usual you know, you already know what to expect.” He tries to convince her.

“No, I won’t.” She shakes her head. Why does she have to always be the one to ruining things for them? Maybe, because on the inside, she feels like a house can’t make her feel better about her new life? “You’re going to be gone most of the time. What happens if we end up like your marriage?”

“Don’t you see I’m trying?” He speaks a bit more in a serious tone. “I know with your new job you won’t be able to live in your shoebox apartment without your mum’s help. I want to take care of you!”

“What are people going to think? You’re living with your mistress!”

“Fuck what people think! I thought you said we were going to be in this together.” He was confused. Why couldn’t she just live with him in this house he bought for her.

“Harry, I did say that and I still do but don’t force me to move in with you. I’m not ready.”

“What can possibly be holding you back?” His voice softens. 

“My life is falling apart and being picked every day!” She rubs her eyes in frustration.

“Everyone knows we’re together, isn’t that what you wanted.”

“Not like this, Harry. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do but it happened. Now we can just be together despite what they say about our cheating scandal.”

“No one wants to hire me” She looks at him again with disappointment in her eyes. 

“You have a job already at the gallery. What do you mean?”

“The owner owes a favour to my mom but I can’t use anything useful with all the experience I have. Every management and label rejected me before I could even get an interview.”

“Are you saying all of this is my fault.” He scoffs. “Y/N, it's a job. There are tons more out there that you can use your experience for.”

“I don’t think you understand how important my job was to me.”

“The job that I got you?” He sarcastically replies back. “I’ll try and get you-”

“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Okay fine, you don’t want to move in with me. Where do we go from here?” He lets out a sigh and looks around the home. He was mad they weren’t going to live here but he didn’t want her to leave him.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s okay. I understand. You can leave, they all do.”  Y/N immediately looks away from the window and looks at him instead. 

“Who said I was leaving. I love you.” She raises her hand next to his. “We can wait until I feel like I’m ready to start a new chapter.”

“Actually I have a plan.” He smiles mischievously at her and pulls her out of the home.

Thankfully, Harry brought her to a hidden beach where they could spend some time together after being apart for so long. They spent hours talking about their lives and new things they haven’t shared with each other before.

Y/N even told him everything about how she’s been feeling these past few days. She came to the decision that Los Angeles isn’t for her anymore. And although she would love to live with Harry, she needed to figure out her life first. After all, this was her only serious relationship.

And because he was so understanding and patient with her after he learned about everything she was hiding from him. He made sure to be the boyfriend he should’ve been a year ago.

That’s when she knew he had to marry her.

~

2 years later…

“Harry!” Y/N calls him from the stairs. 

It’s been two years since they began to date publicly after their affair was exposed. Luckily a few months after, his divorce was finalized and the media laid off their backs. 

Now the couple lives happily together in their new home but it isn’t in Malibu but instead his home in London where he first brought her to. It’s were they made up and realized that they belong to each other -this had to be their home. And suddenly it felt like London belonged to them where they can start a new chapter in their lives. There was barely any paparazzi here and everyone accepted Y/N with open arms, especially Anne. 

“What’s wrong, babe?” He runs down the stairs with a gym towel on his shoulder. 

“Take Evelyn please.” She gently gives their 1-year-old baby to her Finacé. “I have to run down the office. Louis needs me.”

Funny enough when they moved to London, a job offer was presented to her from Harry’s bandmate Louis Tomlinson. Due to their long term time hiatus from the band, he decided to start his own management company and help aspiring artists start their journey off in the right hands. 

Now, Y/N worked as a marketing agent for the company. Although there was no Rob or Marissa, she did find herself having more memories here at fearless management. 

Maybe the only thing left to do is get married?

You taught me a secret language

I can't speak with anyone else

And you know damn well

For you, I would ruin myself

A million little times

[bananaofswifts]

Taylor Swift’s ‘Folklore’: Album Review

It’s hard to remember any contemporary pop superstar that has indulged in a more serious, or successful, act of sonic palette cleansing than Swift has with her eighth album, a highly subdued but rich affair written and recorded in quarantine conditions.

While most of us spent the last four months putting on some variation of “the quarantine 15,” Taylor Swift has been secretly working on the “Folklore” 16. Sprung Thursday night with less than a day’s notice, her eighth album is a fully rounded collection of songs that sounds like it was years in the interactive making, not the product of a quarter-year’s worth of file-sharing from splendid isolation. Mind you, the words “pandemic hero” should probably be reserved for actual frontline workers and not topline artistes. But there’s a bit of Rosie the Riveter spirit in how Swift has become the first major pop artist to deliver a first-rank album that went from germination to being completely locked down in the midst of a national lockdown.

The themes and tone of “Folklore,” though, are a little less “We can do it!” and a little more “Can we do it?” Because this new collection is Swift’s most overtly contemplative — as opposed to covertly reflective — album since the fan favorite “Red.” Actually, that’s an understatement. “Red” seems like a Chainsmokers album compared to the wholly banger-free “Folklore,” which lives up to the first half of its title by divesting itself of any lingering traces of Max Martin-ized dance-pop and presenting Swift, afresh, as your favorite new indie-electro-folk/chamber-pop balladeer. For fans that relished these undertones of Swift’s in the past, it will come as a side of her they know and love all too well. For anyone who still has last year’s “You Need to Calm Down” primarily in mind, it will come as a jolting act of manual downshifting into actually calming down. At least this one won’t require an album-length Ryan Adams remake to convince anyone that there’s songwriting there. The best comparison might be to take “Clean,” the unrepresentative denouement of “1989,” and… imagine a whole album of that. Really, it’s hard to remember any pop star in our lifetimes that has indulged in a more serious act of sonic palette cleansing.

The tone of this release won’t come as a midnight shock to anyone who took spoilers from the announcement earlier in the day that a majority of the tracks were co-written with and produced by the National’s Aaron Dessner, or that the man replacing Panic! at the Disco’s Brendon Urie as this album’s lone duet partner is Bon Iver. No matter how much credit you may have given Swift in the past for thinking and working outside of her box, a startled laugh may have been in order for just how unexpected these names felt on the bingo card of musical dignitaries you expected to find the woman who just put out “Me!” working with next. But her creative intuition hasn’t led her into an oil-and-water collaboration yet. Dessner turns out to be an ideal partner, with as much virtuosic, multi-instrumental know-how (particularly useful in a pandemic) as the most favored writer-producer on last year’s “Lover” album, Jack Antonoff.

He, too, is present and accounted for on “Folklore,” to a slightly lesser extent, and together Antonoff and Dessner make for a surprisingly well-matched support-staff tag team. Swift’s collabs with the National’s MVP clearly set the tone for the project, with a lot of fingerpicking, real strings, mellow drum programming and Mellotrons. You can sense Antonoff, in the songs he did with Swift, working to meet the mood and style of what Dessner had done or would be doing with her, and bringing out his own lesser-known acoustic and lightly orchestrated side. As good of a mesh as the album is, though, it’s usually not too hard to figure out who worked on which song — Dessner’s contributions often feel like nearly neo-classical piano or guitar riffs that Swift toplined over, while Antonoff works a little more toward buttressing slightly more familiar sounding pop melodies of Swift’s, dressed up or down to meet the more somber-sounding occasion.

For some fans, it might take a couple of spins around the block with this very different model to become re-accustomed to how there’s still the same power under the hood here. And that’s really all Swift, whose genius for conversational melodies and knack for giving every chorus a telling new twist every time around remain unmistakable trademarks. Thematically, it’s a bit more of a hodgepodge than more clearly autobiographical albums like “Lover” and “Reputation” before it have been. Swift has always described her albums as being like diaries of a certain period of time, and a few songs here obviously fit that bill, as continuations of the newfound contentment she explored in the last album and a half. But there’s also a higher degree of fictionalization than perhaps she’s gone for in the past, including what she’s described as a trilogy of songs revolving around a high school love triangle. The fact that she refers to herself, by name, as “James” in the song “Betty” is a good indicator that not everything here is ripped from today’s headlines or diary entries.

But, hell, some of it sure is. Anyone looking for lyrical Easter eggs to confirm that Swift still draws from her own life will be particularly pleased by the song “Invisible String,” a sort of “bless the broken roads that led me to you” type song that finds fulfillment in a current partner who once wore a teal shirt while working as a young man in a yogurt shop, even as Swift was dreaming of the perfect romance hanging out in Nashville’s Centennial Park. (A quick Google search reveals that, yes, Joe Alwyn was once an essential worker in London’s fro-yo industry.) There’s also a sly bit of self-referencing as Swift follows this golden thread that fatefully linked them: “Bad was the blood of the song in the cab on your first trip to L.A.,” she sings. The “dive bar” that was first established as the scene of a meet-cute two albums ago makes a reappearance in this song, too.

As for actual bad blood? It barely features into “Folklore,” in any substantial, true-life-details way, counter to her reputation for writing lyrics that are better than revenge. But when it does, woe unto he who has crossed the T’s and dotted the I’s on a contract that Swift feels was a double-cross. At least, we can strongly suspect what or who the actual subject is of “Mad Woman,” this album’s one real moment of vituperation. “What did you think I’d say to that?” Swift sings in the opening lines. “Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? / They strike to kill / And you know I will.” Soon, she’s adding gas to the fire: “Now I breathe flames each time I talk / My cannons all firing at your yacht / They say ‘move on’ / But you know I won’t / … women like hunting witches, too.” A coup de gras is delivered: “It’s obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together.” It’s a message song, and the message is: Swift still really wants her masters back, in 2020. And is really still going to want them back in 2021, 2022 and 2023, too. Whether or not the neighbors of the exec or execs she is imagining really mouth the words “f— you” when these nemeses pull up in their respective driveways may be a matter of projection, but if Swift has a good time imagining it, many of her fans will too.

(A second such reference may be found in the bonus track, “The Lakes,” which will only be found on deluxe CD and vinyl editions not set to arrive for several weeks. There, she sings, “What should be over burrowed under my skin / In heart-stopping waves of hurt / I’ve come too far to watch some namedropping sleaze / Tell me what are my words worth.” The rest of “The Lakes” is a fantasy of a halcyon semi-retirement in the mountains — in which “I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet / Because I haven’t moved in years” — “and not without my muse.” She even imagines red roses growing out of a tundra, “with no one around to tweet it”; fantasies of a social media-free utopia are really pandemic-rampant.)

The other most overtly “confessional” song here is also the most third-person one, up to a telling point. In “The Last Great American Dynasty,” Swift explores the rich history of her seaside manse in Rhode Island, once famous for being home to the heir to the Standard Oil fortune and, after he died, his eccentric widow. Swift has a grand old time identifying with the women who decades before her made fellow coast-dwellers go “there goes the neighborhood”: “There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen / She had a marvelous time ruining everything,” she sings of the long-gone widow, Rebekah. “Fifty years is a long time / Holiday House sat quietly on that beach / Free of women with madness, their men and bad habits / Then it was bought by me… the loudest woman this town has ever seen.” (A fine madness among proud women is another recurring theme.)

But, these examples aside, the album is ultimately less obviously self-referential than most of Swift’s. The single “Cardigan,” which has a bit of a Lana Del Rey feel (even though it’s produced by Dessner, not Del Rey’s partner Antonoff) is part of Swift’s fictional high school trilogy, along with “August” and “Betty.” That sweater shows up again in the latter song, in which Swift takes on the role of a 17-year boy publicly apologizing for doing a girl wrong — and which kicks into a triumphant key change at the end that’s right out of “Love Story,” in case anyone imagines Swift has completely moved on from the spirit of early triumphs.

“Exile,” the duet with Bon Iver, recalls another early Swift song, “The Last Time,” which had her trading verses with Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol. Then, as now, she gives the guy the first word, and verse, if not the last; it has her agreeing with her partner on some aspects of their dissolution (“I couldn’t turn things around”/”You never turned things around”) and not completely on others (“Cause you never gave a warning sign,” he sings; “I gave so many signs,” she protests).

Picking two standouts — one from the contented pile, one from the tormented — leads to two choices: “Illicit Affairs” is the best cheating song since, well, “Reputation’s” hard-to-top “Getaway Car.” There’s less catharsis in this one, but just as much pungent wisdom, as Swift describes the more mundane details of maintaining an affair (“Tell your friends you’re out for a run / You’ll be flushed when you return”) with the soul-destroying ones of how “what started in beautiful rooms ends with meetings in parking lots,” as “a drug that only worked the first few hundred times” wears off in clandestine bitterness.

But does Swift have a corker of a love song to tip the scales of the album back toward sweetness. It’s not “Invisible String,” though that’s a contender. The champion romance song here is “Peace,” the title of which is slightly deceptive, as Swift promises her beau, or life partner, that that quality of tranquility is the only thing she can’t promise him. If you like your love ballads realistic, it’s a bit of candor that renders all the compensatory vows of fidelity and courage all the more credible and deeply lovely. “All these people think love’s for show / But I would die for you in secret.”

That promise of privacy to her intended is a reminder that Swift is actually quite good at keeping things close to the vest, when she’s not spilling all — qualities that she seems to value and uphold in about ironically equal measure. Perhaps it’s in deference to the sanctity of whatever she’s holding dear right now that there are more outside narratives than before in this album — including a song referring to her grandfather storming the beaches in World War II — even as she goes outside for fresh collaborators and sounds, too. But what keeps you locked in, as always, is the notion of Swift as truth-teller, barred or unbarred, in a world of pop spin. She’s celebrating the masked era by taking hers off again.

Taylor Swift “Folklore” Republic Records