#prince hair Harry one shot

[cinemastyles-blog]

Best Tutor Ever

Summary: a Wattpad request by SarahTrace789 - “The second idea was Harry is a good boy and she is the bad girl whose grade in math class is bad and she needs to get her it up to graduate so she exchanges sex lessons with Harry for tutoring lessons.”

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, student!y/n, student!harry, goodboy!harry, unprotected sex, fingering, hair pulling, oral (both), filth

Master

PRINCE HAIR HARRY

“I need at least a B to pass, right?”

The teacher nods, “Yes, at least a B.”

“Got it. Thank you!” You stand up and grab your books before walking out of the room. You head to the cafeteria and sit down at the table.

“I need at least a B to pass math, then I can officially walk at graduation. I don’t know what else to do.” You complain and roll your eyes with a huff.

“Why don’t you talk to that Harry kid. He’s pretty smart from what I’ve heard.”

“Who?” You asks looking around, confused because you know someone named Harry. You grew up with him, he just kinda fell off because you became popular and he didn’t.

Y/f/n taps your shoulder and points, “The guy sitting at the end of the table over there.”

“Striped dress shirt?”

She nods, “uh huh, I guess he’s like stupid smart. Kinda nerdy. Not my vibe.”

You bite your lip, “You know what, I’m going to.”

Your friends watch as you walk over to Harry and sit down across from him. He slowly looks up at you and you’re kinda taken a back by how pretty he is.

“Hello?”

You blink and shake your head, “Sorry, i um.. i know it’s awful timing, and I’m a shitty person blah blah, but I have a favor to ask you.”

“No. I can’t help you study for math so you can graduate, y/n.”

You lean back, “How did you know that that’s what I was going to ask you.”

He smirks and tilts his head, “We’ve known each other since the second grade. You’ve never been good with math.”

You’re lost at what to say, but you need to say something.

“See. That’s perfect then. You come over tonight and we can catch up on everything.” You smile and hope he says yes.

“Mm. I’m good, thanks.” He looks back down at his notebook.

“Harry.” You whine quietly, “Please?”

He looks up and laughs, “What’s in it for me?”

You look up at him and shrug, “Whatever you want.”

“Tempting.” He leans back and presses his lips together in a dry smirk.

You close your eyes and lean in, “I will send you a picture of my tits.”

He finds your negotiating absolutely hilarious, “Wow. How classy.” He rolls his eyes, “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay. Just please actually think about it.” You lay your hands on the table, “I’ll do anything.”

He squints his eyes slightly and tilts his head, “Anything?” He asks with a smirk.

You laugh slightly and nod, “I guess, Harry. Im desperate, if you couldn’t already tell.”

He sighs and shakes his head, “Fine.”

“Yes?” You ask staring at him.

He nods, “Yeah, fine. But I’m only giving you one night. So after that, you’re on your own again.”

You smirk and stand up. Before walking away, you lean down and whisper, “Please after one night with me you’ll be hooked.”

You walk back to your table and sit down before you embarrass yourself even further, “So I’m pretty sure I just um.. exchanged sex acts for tutoring.”

——

After school you rush straight home. Ignoring everyone in your path.

If you were correct and Harry wanted to collect, you wanted to be ready.

Thankfully, your parents are leaving for a three day work trip, so you’ll have the house all to yourself.

And Harry.

You immediately stripped your clothes off and got into the shower. It was an everything shower, so you couldn’t waist another second.

You shave, exfoliate, wash, rinse, repeat.

You step out and wrap a towel around your hair and around your body. You do your skin care and go pick out an outfit.

You didn’t want to seem too slutty, but at the same time, you really did want to thank him for helping you.

So you opt for the simple, but very still very sexy bra set and put it on after you lathered your entire body in the best smelling lotion you had.

You threw on shorts and an old baggy t shirt and go to dry your hair.

You weren’t sure what time Harry was coming over, you just agreed on tonight, no specific time.

You go down stairs and it must be perfect timing because there’s a knock on your door. Suddenly, your heart decides to pick up its speed and you feel nervous.

You walk over and open the door, “Hey, Harry. Come in.” You open the door more and step aside.

He gives you a smile as he walks in, “Hey.”

“You can set you stuff wherever.” You close the door and lock it, “Thank you for actually showing up.”

You walk around the corner and lean against the wall. He gets his notes out and looks over at you. His eyes scan up your bare legs and slowly make their way to your eyes, “No problem. Do you have your notes.”

You look around, “Uh. Yes. They’re around here somewhere.” You search for them and pull them out from under your laptop, “Here.”

He nods and pulls out the chair and sits down.

You lay them down and sit down in the chair next to Harry as he goes through his notes.

You sit there awkwardly, unsure of what to say exactly.

Harry glances over at you, “I like your shirt.”

You smile and look down at your Green Bay tee, “Oh, thanks.”

Harry leans forward to move stuff around, “So do you know what you need to study?”

“She wrote it down for me.” You grab the sticky note and hand it to harry. He takes it and nods as he glances over it, “Okay. I have all of these.”

He hands the note back to you and his eyes gaze at your legs. He swallows and clears his throat.

You move your chair closer to him and reach up to grab your pen. You lean back and bend your leg up to rest your notebook on it.

Harry glances back over at you and he freezes as he sees your lace panties peaking through the leg hole of your shorts.

“What’s first?” You look over at him and rest the end of your pen against your cheek. You spread your legs just a tad bit more, teasing him.

“Yeah, first.” He turns back towards the table and picks up his pencil, “So the algebra portion, that really isn’t bad, here I’ll walk you through an easy one and we’re pick harder ones as we go.”

You nod and write down the problem as he explains it, “Now, look over that for a minute.”

Harry takes his sweatshirt off and hangs it on the back of the chair. He turns and you notice his tattoos, “I like those.”

“Wh- oh these?” He looks at his arm and pulls the half unbuttoned parts of his shirt open, “I have more.”

You bite your lip as you see the images on his chest, “Wow. Did they hurt?”

He shrugs, “Eh.”

“I just have one, it’s tiny.”

“Let’s see it.” Harry turns towards you, leaning back in the seat as he rests his elbow on the arm rest.

You smirk and shake your head, “Oh gosh, no.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” He winks and starts to undo his shirt fully.

You slowly pull your shirt up, showing him the three little word phrase under your boob. You don’t even try to keep your lingerie a secret, you both know that Harry isn’t just there to help you study.

“What are ya wearin’ that pretty thing for?” Harry leans over and brushes his finger against the lace.

You bite your lip and look down at his touch, “For you.” You breathe out as you look up at him, “I wore this to surprise you for when you took my clothes off.”

He bites his lip and smiles for a few moments. He then reaches out, grabbing your hands and pulling you towards him.

You fall forward, landing in his lap weirdly, “Oh shit.” You scoot up, moving your self around so you can straddle him.

He grips the bottom of your shirt and you raise your arms as he lifts it up over your head.

He drops it to the ground as his eyes start scanning your newly exposed skin, “Fuck, y/n.”

You bite your lip and tilt your head, “What?”

He blows out air and rests his hands on your hips, “I knew you were going to be hot, but I didn’t know it would be this hot.”

Harry’s words make your stomach do a somersault, “Fuck.” You gasp, “I mean.” You laugh slightly, “yeah, no. Fuck because I thought the same thing about you.”

Harry chuckles and shakes his head, “No, you didn’t.”

“Hey, I never forgot about you.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that you never tried to reconnect with me. You got too cool for me and no-“

You cut him off by kissing him. His hands pull your closer and he presses his hips upwards into yours, “Fuck.” He groans, “You piss me off.”

“So use me to get all your anger out.” You lean in and kiss down his neck, “Fuck me, Harry.”

“I’ll also collect my tutoring payment while I’m here.” He smirks and chuckles before he leans in to kiss you. He slides his hands up your back and unhooks your bra.

He drags the thin fabric down your arms and drops it, exposing your tits.

“You got some nice tits on ya, love.” Harry reaches up and starts to knead them. You moan out and slide your hands around his shoulders, tugging at the hair your fingers can get tangled in.

“Shit.” He moans out quietly, “can you get on your knees for me?”

“Anything for the person that’s going to help me graduate.” You give him a smirk and stand up. You go to kneel down but he stops you, “Wait.”

“What?” You ask looking up at him.

“Take off those shorts.” Harry nods as he undoes his belt and jeans. He pushes them down his legs and leans back, stroking his cock as he watches you.

“Turn around.”

You bite your lip and turn around, poking your ass out towards Harry. He groans lowly, “Fucking hell. C’mere.”

You spin back around and walk over to him, getting down on your knees in front of him. You don’t wait for his instruction, you just get right to it.

You wrap your lips around his cock, swirling your tongue as you work into a slow bobbing motion.

Harry moans and tilts his head back, “Fuck.”

You hum against him and work your head down further. You relax enough and slip him into your throat.

Harry gasps, “God, you’re so fucking good at this.” He moans and lays a hand on the back of your head, “Shit, that’s it.”

You pull your head up, looking up at him as you catch your breathe.

He gives you a smirk, “No wonder you’re not good at math.”

You roll your eyes, “Was ‘you’re so good at giving head’ too hard for you to say?” You laugh slightly and run your hands up his thighs.

His eyes follow them as you run them up towards his cock.

He gasps quietly when you wrap your hand around him. You start to pump it slowly, placing little kisses up his thighs.

“Don’t tease me, y/n.”

You look up at him, “I’m not.” You move up and place your lips on the tip of his cock, slowly poking your tongue out to swirl it around.

“I should be quizzing you on your math right now.” Harry can’t help but laugh which causes you to laugh. You lean back and tilt your head with a smile, “Way to kill the mood.”

He shrugs, still laughing, “Sorry.”

“I’ll let it slide this time.”

He bites his lip and looks down at you with a look that causes your pussy to clench around nothing, “Get up here.” He grabs a hold of your wrists and pulls you to stand up.

“Turn around.” He spins you around and hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties. He slides them down your legs, leaning in to kiss the small of your back.

“Bend over, as far as you can.” He pushes on your back and leans back. He bites his lip as he watches your pussy become visible, “Fuck.”

He slides his hands to your ass cheeks and squeezes as he spreads them apart, “You have such a beautiful pussy, y/n.”

Harry leans in and licks a stripe up your folds, getting them wet before he slips it between them. You gasp and place your hands on his knees to support yourself.

“Fuck, Harry.” You moan out, “Yes, yes.”

You dig your nails into his skin and he groans against you. You push your hips back into his face more, moaning out his name in a whiny tone.

He buries his tongue inside of you for a few more minutes before he leans back, “Fuck, sit.”

He grabs his cock and holds it steady for you. You sit up and slowly lower our hips. You moan and close your eyes as you feel the head of his cock enter your soaked cunt, “Fuck, Harry.”

“Relax, y/n.. That’s just the beginning.” He smirks as he grips your hips and lowers your down onto his cock a little faster.

He groans as your walks pulsate around his cock. He lets out a few moans and groans as you grind your hips downward.

He squeezes your hips and pushes his up, causing you to feel more pressure which feels good, “Oh, shit, y-yes.”

You tilt your head back and Harry leans up, wrapping his arm around your stomach, “Lean, back here.” You lean back against his chest and bite your lip as you listed to him speak, “Bring your legs up, I’m gonna hold them.”

You nodded and did as he said, you had to slip off his cock, but once he got his arms hooked under your legs, you were golden.

You reach down and slip his cock back into you, moaning as you feel him pushing deeper inside of you. He thrusts his hips faster and you could feel your orgasm coming.

“Fuck, H-Harry..” you lay your head back on his shoulder and let out a moan as you clench around his cock, “shit, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

Your orgasm hit you hard. Harry lays his hand on your clit, rubbing as your talks you through your high.

It was in this moment that you realized you are on absolute full display in your family dining room.

Like, if someone would walk through the front door, they would see you spread open, butt ass naked, with Harry’s cock pounding in and out of your pussy as he squeezes your boobs and rubs your clit with the other.

The thought of getting caught did give you an adrenaline rush, though.

“Fuck.” You tilt your head back and close your eyes as you pant, “When did you get good at this?” You laugh weakly.

He chuckles and leans in, “I’ve always been good. You’ve just been too good for me to find out.” He pecks you head quick and leans back smiling.

You shake your head and stand up to face him. You manage to straddle him comfortably, “Yeah, yeah. My fault I know.” You roll your eyes and bite your lip as you sit back on his cock.

He wraps an arm around your waist and watches as his cock thrusts in and out of you, “So,” Harry groans, “Re-remember how I said.. I was only going.. to, um.. do this once?”

You nod, “Mhm.”

“Yeah, that’s out the window.”

You smile and tilt your head back, moaning as you feel that familiar feeling building up again, “Fuck, fuck.”

He lays his hand on your clit and quickly rubs it, “There you go.”

You tangle your fingers in his long hair and pull, “Shit.” You moan and clench your thighs before leaning in to kiss him.

Your lips move in the most perfect sync. You start to grind your hips in a streaky rhythm and Harry pulls you closer. He lays on hand on your back and the other goes to your ass to squeeze.

You moan against his lips, gasping as he hits that little sweet spot every so often.

“I think.. we should make this.. a regular thing.. don’t you?” Harry asks in between kisses.

You smile against his lips, “I.. totally agree with.. that..”

He thrusts his hips up, “Fuck, you feel fuckin’ incredible, y/n.”

“I love your cock.” You whimper as you grind downward, “Fuck, Harry.”

His fingers dig into your skin, “Let’s go to the couch.”

You stand up and wait for him. He stands up and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck.

“You’re so fuckin beautiful.” He smiles but quickly frowns, “But you still piss me off sometimes.”

You smirk, “I’m sorry.”

He sighs as he lays you down on the couch, “I guess I’ll let it slide, just this once.”

He slips his cock back into you, closing his eyes as your legs wrap tighter around him.

He looks down at you and brushes hair from your face. He leans in and kisses you, “I’ve also missed you.”

You smile against his lips, “I’ve missed you. I’m sorry.”

You moan and cling to him as you cum around his cock again, “Fuck, fuck, harry.”

He watches your face, getting so lost in the way you look when you’re pleased, he didn’t realize he came inside of you.

“Oh. Shit. Shit.” He pulls out and you sit up, “What? Harry. What?”

He runs a hand through his hair and motions, “I didn’t pull out.”

You press your lips together and shrug, “Hmm?”

“I don’t- I’m sorry?” He laughs nervously and looks at you. You smirk, “Nothing we can do about it now.”

“Right on that one. Okay, um. Shall we actually study now?” Harry smiles as he nods towards the dining room.

You sigh and get up, “Yeah, but only if you promise to stay with me tonight and do what we just did again.” You bite your lip and giggle and you hold on to his arm.

“Mm, I’ll have to think about it.” Harry gives you a smirk and you roll your eyes.

——

Thank you for requesting this!

If you have any ideas please don’t be afraid to send them to me!

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[eveningepiphany]

go with it | H.S oneshot

my masterlist!

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N? What are you—“

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

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

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

“What do you—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you seen—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ex?”

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

“But—“

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

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

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

To this, his face immediately drops.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was nothin’. Glad you’re home safe.”

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

A tiny scoff sounds from him, “Obviously?”

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

And he hardly can pinpoint why. Or not yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I— yes. That was… plenty.” You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Impressive.” He nods at your easy change.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Still hate your guts.” You whisper.

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

You laugh, “Is that so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Somehow there’s an unspoken not tonight agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

“I like you more than a little bit.”

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

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

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

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

———

[cherryredz]

Skating on Thin Ice

one-shot

Summary: After weeks of exchanging lighthearted texts and meeting up for casual coffee dates, Harry decides to take you on your first official date. Wanting to do something fun and a bit nostalgic, he suggests ice skating at a nearby outdoor rink that’s been set up for the winter. You have never skated before and hesitate at first. But in the end you agree, intrigued by the idea of trying something new with him.

Warnings: none

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It was a crisp winter evening, the kind that made the world feel still and quiet, save for the soft sound of skates carving through ice. Harry stood beside the outdoor rink, waiting for you to arrive. The twinkling lights around the rink shimmered, casting a warm glow over everything. When he spotted you walking toward him, your breath visible in the cold air, he smiled.

"Hey," you greeted, your cheeks flushed from the cold, your eyes bright with excitement and nervousness. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this."

Harry grinned, stepping forward to meet you. "I promise it’s going to be fun. No pressure, we’re here to enjoy the night." He held out a hand, helping you with your skates. "Let’s get these on first."

"I’m already having second thoughts," you laughed, pulling the laces tight around your boots. "I’ve never been on ice before. What if I fall?"

"You won’t fall," Harry reassured you, tying your skate laces with an expert hand. "Well, you might... but I’ll be there to catch you."

You raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on your lips. "You’re so confident, I’m starting to feel like I might just embarrass myself."

"No chance." Harry finished with the skates, standing up and offering you a hand. "Come on, I’ll show you how it’s done."

You stepped onto the ice together, and you immediately clutched the edge of the rink. Harry, laughing softly, stayed by your side, one hand resting on your back to steady you.

"Okay, this is definitely harder than it looks," you muttered, trying to shift your weight but feeling unsteady.

"Take your time," Harry said gently. "Just shift your weight, one foot at a time."

You hesitated, glancing at Harry. "I feel like a baby deer on skates."

Harry chuckled. "We all start somewhere. I’m not exactly a pro either." He nudged you playfully. "Just don’t fall into me."

"I’ll try not to," you teased, trying to keep your balance. "I feel like I’m going to wipe out any second."

Harry steadied you once more, a warm smile on his face. "You’re doing great. I’ll be right here."

As you slowly circled the rink together, your conversation shifted to more personal topics. "So," you started, your voice light, "you’re always so calm and collected. How do you do it?"

Harry shrugged, gliding along smoothly beside you. "It’s just easier to keep it together when the world’s watching. But sometimes, it gets... tiring, you know? People expect you to always be happy, always on."

You nodded, your thoughts drifting to your own insecurities. "I get that. I guess I try to keep a brave face too, but there’s always this pressure, this feeling like I’m never enough."

Harry glanced at you, his expression softening. "You don’t have to feel like that, Y/N. I mean, you’re here, with me, right now. And that’s enough."

You smiled, the warmth of his words melting some of your nerves. "Thanks, Harry. I... I think I needed to hear that."

You continued skating, Harry occasionally giving you pointers, laughing at the little stumbles you both made. The ice became more familiar, and your confidence began to grow.

"You’re getting better," Harry commented, slowing down beside you as you gained more control. "Look at you go."

You grinned, feeling proud of yourself. "I guess I’m not so bad after all."

You skated in silence for a moment, both of you enjoying the peacefulness of the rink. The cold air was refreshing, and the twinkling lights above you gave the night an almost magical quality.

"I think I could get used to this," you said softly, your hand brushing against his. You glanced up at him, your breath coming in soft puffs. "Thanks for pushing me to try something new."

Harry stopped skating for a moment, turning to face you. "I’m glad you did. It’s fun, right?"

You nodded, your heart racing a little faster than it had been before. "Yeah, it is." You looked into his eyes, the connection between you growing stronger by the second. The moments of awkwardness had turned into something more—something real.

Harry, who had been trying to keep his composure, suddenly felt a shift. The nervousness he’d felt at the beginning of the night had turned into something far more tender. He stepped closer, his voice quieter now. "Y/N…"

Before he could say anything else, you took a small step closer as well, the gap between you closing. Your faces were inches apart, the warmth of your bodies contrasting with the chill in the air. Your heart pounded, and Harry’s breath was shallow. You paused for a moment, and in the next breath, Harry leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, unexpected kiss.

It was gentle, tentative at first, but when you kissed him back, all the hesitation melted away. You pulled back slightly, your faces still close, eyes meeting in the glow of the lights. Your lips were warm against his, and the spark between you was undeniable.

"That was..." you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Harry replied, his voice just as soft. "Perfect."

You lingered there for a moment, basking in the magic of the moment before Harry smiled and extended his hand. "Shall we go get some cocoa? I’m freezing."

"That sounds amazing," you said, grinning. "Lead the way."

You walked off the ice together, the sound of your laughter echoing in the crisp winter air. Harry pulled you close, and you shared a quiet moment as you headed for the warmth of the car, the ice rink behind you already becoming a cherished memory.

As you parted ways later that night, Harry paused before walking off into the night, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "This is just the beginning, Y/N."

You smiled, your heart still racing, as you watched him go. "I’m looking forward to it."

_______________________________________________

This is the first ever time I'm writing something here, hope you like it! Let me know what you think :))

p.s. English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes.

[green-typewriterz]

Lilacs and Forget me nots

Part two

Harry Styles x princess!reader

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

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

Warnings: none???

word count: 1645

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

[therealhousewifeofharrystyles]

👰🏼‍♀️Mrs. Styles’ Masterlist📜

🔞= Smut // ⚠️= Taboo // 🎭= Angst // 💕= Fluff

Whatcha Doin', Step Bro?(Finished…?)

WDSB - Prequel 🔞⚠️💕

WDSB - Part 1 🔞⚠️

WDSB - Part 2 🔞⚠️💕

Harry's Home

HH - Part 1 🎭💕⚠️

HH - Part 2 🎭💕🔞⚠️

HH - Part 3 🎭🔞⚠️

HH - Part 4 🎭💕🔞⚠️

Oneshots

Berries & Cream 🔞⚠️

Take Care 🔞⚠️

[foolforharrry]

When It Rains, It Pours

Word count: 3.7k words

Summary: Harry and Sam get lost in the streets of Sao Paulo when it starts raining

This is just pure fluff. I hope you like it 🫶🏻

if you wanna read more of my work, I have it all linked on my masterlist.

Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and if you have any requests please feel free to give them to me and I will do my absolute best to do it.

"Harry-" I start, but he cuts me off, already knowing what I was about to say.

"No. Don't say it. We're not lost." As sure as he tries to make himself sound like he had a sliver of faith in what he was saying. "I swear we passed that cafe earlier."

Looking from the small establishment that's empty at this time of day and back to him, I can't remember having seen it ever before in my life. In fact, every building in sight is new and unfamiliar. "I'm sorry, pumpkin. But I really do think we're lost," I murmur, giving his waist a squeeze. Which he reciprocates with a kiss on my temple.

"I know you didn't want to, but I think google maps may be our only option here," I try, fully anticipating the pouty silence that follows. When we left the hotel after spending most of the day lounging around by the pool, Harry swore that we didn't need navigation from anything other than his 'impeccable memory and impressive sense of direction'.

Stopping us in our tracks, Harry groans, tilting his head back to look at the starless sky without a care that we are forcing every single person who passes us on the sidewalk to walk around us. "I'm tired," he whines and I can't say I don't relate.

We left the hotel just as the sun started to set after spending the whole day in the beaming Brazil sun. Sunbathing in the lounge chairs by the pool, taking breaks to dip into the cool water every now and then. At some point, Harry got a bit tipsy and went in fully clothed, including his hat.

I don't even want to check what time it is right now, but the sky is fully draped in darkness. And it has been for a while now.

Stepping in front of him, I pinch his chin between my thumb and my pointer finger, tilting his head down so he'll look at me when I talk, "I know how much you wanted to get back on your own, pumpkin. We're both tired and we really do need to get back to the hotel soon before they get worried about you."

"I know," he pouts. And for some reason that's beyond me, the fact that he is genuinely bummed out when he pulls out his phone and types in the name of the hotel to the search bar in google maps, makes me love him that much more. He's always hated when things go another way than he wanted and had planned for.

The light, cold breeze blows straight through the brown flannel I snagged from Harry's suitcase. Without the sun to provide its constant, warm rays of sunshine, it's actually starting to feel quite chilly. So I wrap my arms back around Harry's waist, enjoying the warmth his body provides.

"Ha!"

The sudden, loud exclamation makes me jump, bewilderedly looking at Harry for answers. "What happened?"

"I was right." I've never seen him look more smug than he does at this very moment. "The hotel is fifteen minutes in that direction," he points down the long road we just walked down, "only we should've taken left a little while ago."

Nodding slowly, I let him have this little victory, "Lead the way, then."

"Happily," Harry grins, throwing his arm around my shoulder, turning us 180 degrees. It's with his phone in his hand we start what's hopefully our last attempt at making it back to our hotel before we're both old and in diapers.

We walk to the sounds of the cars passing and the chatter and footsteps of people milling the streets. No one pays us any attention and while we're anything but alone in the world right now, it feels like we're in a little bubble of our own.

When the time comes to go left, we cross the road safely and quickly.

The air smells of cars, dust and whatever food they're cooking in the restaurants we pass with all kinds of people going in and out of them. If I had the time to, I would probably spend half my time sitting at small cafes around the cities in the world and just watch people go about their daily lives.

"It's gotten cloudy," I point out, a small smile tugging on my lips at the dark, fluffy-looking shapes floating high in the sky. Harry hums, "You've angered the Gods, my love."

Almost as if on cue, a drop of cold water hits my cheek out of nowhere. The suddenness of it makes me jump with a small shriek as I wipe the droplet off my cheek with my hand, my eyes wide as they meet Harry's concerned ones, "What's wrong, baby?"

Before I get the chance to tell him, I watch the same thing happen to him. And one turns into five turns into ten until we're standing dead still in pouring rain.

The rain is loud when the drops splash to the ground. It's fast and it's heavy and it's cold. And it came out of nowhere.

Harry and I are staring at each other with wide eyes, the flashes of rain falling between us.

It can't have been raining for more than a minute before his white kiss t-shirt is starting to get see-through with the chilly water and it clings to his tattooed, tan skin. His hair starts to stick to his face and down his neck and his face glistens, water reflecting in the lights from the buildings around us. His long eyelashes are now clumped together from the water, eyes bright and sparkling with life.

My chest shakes as a loud, unrestrained laugh explodes from it, lifting my arms out the side, palms up to feel the rain bounce off my skin. The second Harry chuckles, shaking his head in fondness and disbelief, laughter pours from my body as freely as the rain falls from the sky.

"It's raining," I say loudly, tilting my head back and letting my mouth fall open and my eyelids close.

"It's fucking raining!" Harry's voice has me looking at him again, both of us grinning from ear to ear. There isn't a single inch of our bodies that's not soaked in rainwater and I don't think I've felt this happy and carefree in a long, long time.

My eyes drop to his pink, full, glistening lips before I drag them back up only to find that his are trained on my own lips.

Without a thought, I close the distance between us with one step, standing on my tip toes as I bring his face down to mine by the back of his neck. The moment our lips connect, it's like a lightning bolt shoots through my entire nervous system. The feeling Harry leaves in my body is so strong it feels as if I might burst into a cloud of stardust.

His hands drop to my waist as he kisses me back with just as much passion. It's wet from the rain and it's messy as his body is flush against mine. Slipping my hands into his hair, water pours over my fingers at the pressure.

It dawns on me just what we're doing, and when it does, I can't hold in the grin that erupts on my face. Giggling when Harry inches his face backwards with an amused smile after kissing my teeth. "What's got you smiling so pretty, my love?"

If my cheeks weren't already red from the kissing, they are definitely red now.

Darting my eyes from his pink cheeks with his adorable dimples carving into them to his twinkling, green eyes, feeling my chest expanding against his as I breathe and try to articulate what's going through my head right now. "

"You just make me really happy," is what I eventually manage to get out, feeling like my heart could explode from the way his entire face seems to brighten at my words.

"Wanna know a secret?" Harry nudges my nose with his, tapping my hip with his hand. I nod, closing my eyes when his gaze becomes too intense for me to bear. "You make me really happy too."

I'm sure the people who sought shelter from the rainfall would raise an eyebrow or two at how Harry and I haven't made a move to get out of it yet.

I don't have a single care or complaint.

"I love you," I tell him, sweeping his hair out of his face. Harry's face breaks into a wide, dopey smile as he returns the sentiment, kissing the corner of my mouth since I still can't stop smiling.

Harry bites the inside of his cheek as he scans my face and I can tell he has something he wants to say. So I drop my hands to his chest, tilting my head to the side. "What is it?"

"You look like a raccoon," he blurts out.

My eyes widen in surprise at his words, not what I had expected to come from his mouth in the slightest. I shove him off me with a laugh, "You're such a fucking dick, omg." As much as I try to sound like his observation offended me, he sees right through it.

Harry takes a step forward, reaching for my waist again, "Raccoons are cute though." I playfully roll my eyes at him, backing away from him, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. The mischievous glint in his eye has a shock of nerves shooting down my spine. "Harry, whatever you're thinking of doing? Don't"

My warning only makes a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth as he keeps trying to close the distance between us. "I've got no idea what you're talking about. M'just walking, darling."

Just as I'm about to argue, he surges forward. And before I can even register what's happening, he's got my soaked body pressed against his. He lifts me up with the help of his forearms under my ass, a surprised shriek ripping from my throat when my feet lose contact with the ground. Instinctively, I hold onto Harry's drenched shoulders and squeeze my eyes shut when Harry starts spinning us around in circles.

I can feel the way his stomach shakes with his contagious laughter against my hips and I can't help but laugh too. The sound of his laugh is one I wish I could store in my brain and play on a loop for the rest of my life.

Tilting my head back, I laugh at the sky, feeling the carefree joy through every single cell of my chilly, soaked body at the spinning, dark clouds. With the way I’m feeling it may as well have been beaming sun and a blue sky without a cloud in sight.

When Harry carefully lowers me to the ground again, we stay close. My arms looped around his neck and his around my waist, both breathless. And god, does his wide, dimply smile have my heart feeling like it's about to both explode and cave in on itself all at the same time.

"Never stop laughing," Harry says, looking me dead in the eye. And even though he's still smiling from ear to ear, his voice is more serious than I've heard him all day. Twisting his long hair around my fingers to centre myself, I nod, "Ok. As long as you never stop smiling."

"Deal," Harry beams, showing off his bunny teeth before dipping down and smearing a kiss on my lips, my eyes fluttering shut as I kiss him back.

He pecks my cheek as he pulls back, "Let's go back and dry off."

"How far is it?" I ask when we resume walking, my arm back around his waist and his around my shoulders, exactly how we were walking before the rain started. Now, the rain has fully stopped, leaving Harry and me in cold, sodden clothes.

The cold water has left my skin burning slightly from the low temperature and Harry's arm has a slight shake to it, so it's not just me.

Harry fishes his phone back out of the pocket of his athletic shorts, somehow not broken from all the water, and checks the directions. "It says it's just around two minutes left," he tells me and points towards a building close to the end of the street. "The hotel is actually right there."

"That's good," I smile, fully aware that I should've probably spotted it already. But I have an absolutely horrible sense of direction and might as well get lost in my own house. "You don't like exploring the city with me?" Harry asks and I don't need to see his face to know he has his lips jutted out into a pout and a furrow in the space between his eyebrows.

Giving his body a reassuring squeeze, I say with a chuckle; "You know I do. But you're shaking like a leaf, pumpkin."

"No, I'm not," he protests without a hint of conviction in his body. But he snatches his words back real quick when I say; "If you're not cold, I guess you won't want cuddles tonight."

When we reach the front of the hotel and the automatic doors open, the sigh I let out is one of pure relief at the newfound warmth. I swear it's like a wave of warm air washes over me like the ocean washing over a sandy beach.

We say hi to the man working in the reception, embarrassment turning my cheeks red when I realise that we're leaving a trail of water in our wake. Something Harry reassures me that they're probably used to. "Everyone knows that when it rains here, it pours."

It soothed my guilt a bit as we left a puddle in the elevator.

When the door to our hotel room shuts behind us, Harry lets go of me to turn the lights on. I suddenly become very aware of the way my skirt feels heavy instead of light and flowy like it always is. My sneakers feel like small lakes of their own and my hair sticks to the sides of my face and down my neck. The flannel I stole from Harry is ten shades darker than it was when I put it on and I can't wait to get out of these clothes and dry off.

"You know," Harry starts, wrapping his arms around my middle from behind and perching his head on my shoulder. "For a racoon, you're very sexy."

My head tilts on his shoulder back in laughter. "Yeah?" I giggle. "This whole drowned animal look gets you going?"

"Mhm. I'm too tired right now, but if you want to go looking for rain tomorrow, I'll prove it." His tone is light and full of teasing humour and I twist my head to kiss his temple, "Whatever you want, pumpkin."

With the side of his face pressed against mine, I can feel him smile. "I want cuddles."

"Let's get a shower to heat up first, yeah?" I grab his wrists, removing his hands from my body to give me enough room to turn around.

Harry shakes his head, running his hands down my sides before he lets them settle on my hips, "It'll take too long," he justifies. "Just wanna hold you close."

I try my best to ignore the butterflies fluttering around in my tummy as I take his hand and drag him with me into the bathroom, flicking on the bright lights. "You're gonna get sick if you go to bed all cold and wet. And you and I both know that you hate being sick."

My reasoning seems to fall on deaf ears when Harry reaches around my body for his toothpaste and toothbrush. "Don't need a shower to keep me warm when I have you." His hips bump against mine, keeping me in place right against the bathroom sink. I meet his eye in the mirror as I grab my own toothbrush, struggling to keep from laughing at the state of us.

I really do look like a raccoon.

He keeps his eyes locked on mine the whole time we brush our teeth. Toothpaste is running down his chin from the corner of his mouth by the time he's done from not spitting it out at all how he usually does. He still lets me spit out my own first and rinse my mouth before he does so himself. With his teeth all clean, he takes a step back and turns me to face him by my hips.

"Kissy?" he asks with his lips pouted expectantly. And who am I to deny him?

When he pulls away, he has a lazy smile on his face and an adorable blush to his cheeks, "Never wanna go a day without kissing you."

My chest tightens at how sincerely he says it. "What if I turn into an actual racoon when we sleep and don't just resemble one? Would you still want to kiss me?"

One second passes before Harry releases a loud cackle, his whole face scrunched up with laughter.

I roll my eyes playfully, grabbing one of the big towels from the peg on the wall as my tummy does backflips, "It was a serious question."

"Thank you." Harry accepts the towel I hand him, humour in his tone as he says; "Fine. I'd have to find a way to turn myself into a raccoon too. Then I could kiss you all I wanted, right?"

"Do raccoons kiss?" I ask, making a mental note to google it in the morning.

Harry shrugs as he roughly dries his hair with the towel while I gently squeeze the water out of mine with a white towel of my own. "I have no idea. But I remember reading somewhere that they cuddle."

"Really?" I swear my heart grows tenfold when he nods; "Yeah. If raccoons can get very attached to their owner, they'll snuggle with them for hours."

"Can we get a raccoon?" I would die from pure joy if a raccoon ever wanted to cuddle with me.

Scoffing, Harry puts the towel back on the peg with a frown on his face. "You'd rather cuddle a raccoon than me?"

"Yup. They're so fluffy, H," I explain simply, as I find my makeup wipes and start the process of removing the mascara that's making me resemble the creatures I just fell in love with. "Don't even lie to me and say you wouldn't do it too if you could."

"I've got you, don't I? Close enough to a raccoon for me." Harry puckers his lips affectionately against the crown of my head before he adds; "Plus, raccoons don't have boobs," pleased quirk to his mouth when my cheeks go red again.

Harry tells me about the dream he had last night while I do the rest of my skincare routine, humming gratefully with his eyes closed as I massage moisturiser into his skin.

Our clothes are still soaked but other than that, we've both dried up pretty nicely. Both his and my hair is starting to dry as well.

In the time since we got back to the hotel, Harry's eyelids have gotten heavier and he speaks slower than usual. All telltale signs that he's in need of his beauty sleep. And I can't lie and say that my head hasn't started to feel a bit fuzzy and tired now that I'm warm again.

"You still want to shower?" Harry asks, genuine curiosity in his voice and I know he would join me if I wanted him to. If he had asked me twenty minutes ago, I would've dragged him into a hot shower, no question. But right now? "Your idea sounds a lot better, pumpkin."

A tired, triumphant smile grazes his face. "Yeah?"

"If you say I told you so, I will chop off your hair," I warn him, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling when Harry rips himself from me with a gasp, covering his long hair with his hands the best he can. "How dare you?"

"Sorry, baby. Had to be said." I stand on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek on my way out of the bathroom. Harry grumbles something under his breath but follows soon after and we start to take off our rain-drenched clothes. The sound of wet clothes hitting the floor and Harry's humming fills in the silence.

I catch Harry checking out my ass with no shame when I slide a fresh pair of underwear up my legs. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," I tease before I turn my attention back to the suitcase, rummaging through it for a t-shirt.

The familiar noise of a phone camera has me twisting my head with raised eyebrows and flaming cheeks. Harry is laying on his tummy on the bed in his briefs, with his phone in his hand and a shit-eating grin on his tired face. "You told me to," he points out in his defence.

"You're insufferable," I shake my head as I slip on Harry's white t-shirt with 'dream boat' printed on both sides. Small on the front and big on the back in red letters.

"That's why you love me." Harry is completely unfazed, setting both mine and his phone to charge.

I don't say anything, but he's not wrong.

Once all the lights are off, I pad my side of the bed where Harry has left empty in the dark. I can barely make out where he's laying on his side with his head propped up on his hand.

The sheets are smooth and cool against my skin as I tuck them up underneath my chin. Mattress soft enough to make me want to never ever leave this bed. Especially when Harry scoots closer. He pulls my body to him, spooning me from behind. His arms wrap around me as he presses a loving kiss to the back of my neck. He lets me use his bicep as a pillow, our legs linked as I slip my fingers between his.

"I love you so much." His is barely even a whisper, his breath fanning against my skin every time he breaths. His body is so close to mine, I can feel his stomach expand and contract against my lower back.

The familiar, comforting smell of him and the heat of his body have my eyes growing too heavy to keep open much longer. I can feel the exhaustion from the day settling into my bones as I give in and let my eyelids close.

"I love you too."

-

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library ✨ Fairy Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

✨ Truth Behind Golden Eyes by MyEnglishRose / @lwtisloved {E, 228k}

Louis is a royal servant born with magic in a kingdom where his sole existence is outlawed with a war he has no idea he has a part in upon him. Harry is the prince on whom the burden of mending a broken kingdom falls upon and he might be willing to risk it all for a simple servant if only he admitted it to himself.

Or. A Fantasy AU loosely inspired by Merlin BBC where one relationship has the power to define the destiny of the whole land.

✨ Collision by itjustkindahappened / @tequiladimples {E, 226k}

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

✨ Black with Autumn Rain by whimsicule / @baroness-elsa {T, 93k}

“Thank you,” Geoff says, taking a sip of his tea. “What did you tell him?”

Louis has a sip as well, lets the tea burn down his throat too quickly, too hot, and he feels it all the way down to his stomach. “The truth. Essentially,” he replies after a moment, licking his lips, relishing the slightly bitter taste of the brew that’s never quite strong enough for Louis’ liking. At least it’s not decaf. “That my dog scented it. That I didn’t touch the body. That I came here first thing.”

Geoff nods pensively. “Did he believe you?”

“Probably not. There’s only so many people who can drown on dry land before it gets fishy.”

or: Harry is a journalist, Louis has lots of secrets and the moors aren't exactly the ideal place to rekindle a lost romance.

✨ fae (series) by whoknows / @crazyupsetter {E, 46k}

The wait isn’t long before something starts rustling in the bushes. Harry takes aim, squeezes the trigger, body moving unconsciously. They’re motions he’s done a thousand times before, and his body knows how to do it without the input of his brain now. It’s what makes him such a good shot.

He misses. The shot misses.

Something howls in the woods, a pretty clear indication that Harry hit it, but there’s no telltale sounds of a big body dropping, no animal charging out at him to take him out before he can finish the job.

Something does turn and run, though. “Fuck,” Harry spits out, scrambling to his feet and slinging the rifle back over his shoulder, giving chase. He’s not going to lose this hunt.

The trail of blood goes on longer than Harry thought it would. He doesn’t know how long he runs for, but his muscles are burning, chest heaving with exertion, until the trail just - goes dead. No more blood, just like that.

“Fuck,” Harry says.

✨ through walls of trees by @ineverateakiwi {T, 41k}

Elesdon is a country divided into five kingdoms and had long been considered peaceful. After a coup in the heart of the country, Lady Sulia ascended to the throne and imprisoned the four courts, stripping them of their powers. With the exception of King Louis Tomlinson, who submitted to her favors.

But something is changing on the horizon. Magic no longer obeys her, and scarcity threatens her reign. Desperate to stay on top, she brings Harry and Liam back into play, entrusting them to her most loyal warriors.

The beginning of a series of mistakes that may give them the opportunity they needed to defeat her.

✨ Gently As She Goes by graceling_in_a_suit {T, 33k}

Louis had been Harry’s best friend for as long as she could remember. She was a shoulder to cry on, a head of hair to practice braiding on, a mind as mischievous as Harry’s to scheme up antics and pranks with, someone to fall asleep next to when the nights were cold or when they both got lonely. Someone to dance with, to learn with, to laugh with.

They were girls together.

Then Louis left.

A modern fairytale (literally!) featuring a quest to bring a lost girl home, celtic goddesses, braiding, friendship, true love, and magic.

✨ I Want To Be With You Everywhere by @haztobegood {E, 30k}

A Seed from the Cherished Tree A Cloud from the Mighty Summit A Flower from the Perpetual Volcano A Pearl from the Perceptive Lake A Love across the Faery Realms

Fae Proposals were a rare and ancient ritual. The presentation of the four Tokens to one’s mate would initiate a lifelong, inter-realm bond between their souls. But the Tokens could only be gathered if the lover could overcome the elements of all four Faery Realm Trials.

The Trials were dangerous, deadly even. But for Harry, Louis would risk it all.

✨ Years of Blood and Magic 

by cherrylarry / @beelou , devilinmybrain / @thedevilinmybrain, foreverfanficaddict / @chaotic-bells , idolizingthelightt / @idolizingthelight , @justalarryblog, 

Outofroad / @out-of-road, @perfectdagger {T, 30k}

Harry goes along willingly, but frowns, intrigued by who else is helping Liam on the case. “You have another… like me? In there?” “Hm, not like you. I mean, like you in the supernatural sense? Yes. But I hope you don’t mind, take offence or even feel threatened by him. I was desperate, and he’s been surprisingly helpful behind the scenes like you a few times." “May I know who it is?” Harry stops dead in his tracks right in the doorway just as he sees Louis turning to face him. The spell is broken once Louis opens his mouth and rolls his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Payne, it had to be him?” --- When Detective Payne calls Harry to help him catch the murderer that is killing children and vampires in their city, Harry and Louis must set their differences aside to fight against the biggest threat they have ever faced.

✨ Delight in Masques by kassio / @fakedeepplantjerker {T, 27k}

Popstar Louis Tomlinson has been pulling one over on the mortals for years. In the five years since he put on a human illusion and tried out for the X Factor, none of them have realised that he’s one of the Fair Folk – a cat shapeshifter, to be precise – and he’d like to keep it that way.

When he returns to the X Factor as a guest judge, the last thing he expects is for some half-Siren fool to use magic on the judges. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what Harry Styles does. Now Louis has to track down some rogue changeling before he exposes them all. Even worse? Apparently, Harry doesn’t even know what he is.

(An urban fantasy adventure, set in the world of - but not crossing over with - the October Daye book series. No need to be familiar with those books; I just want to give credit where it's due on a lot of the worldbuilding.)

✨ all their words for glory always sounded empty by 5sexualhomos / @hogwartzlou {NR, 26k}

Due to his overprotective father, Prince Louis of the fairies has never left Faefield. When he finally gets the chance to go out into the world, he must keep his identity a secret, which shouldn’t be a problem.

That is, until he meets his roommate Harry.

✨ Away With The Fairies by @snowy38 {E, 22k}

Harry liked pretty things.

Mostly the ornate flowers that grew around him, the trees majestically climbing towards the sky, sometimes the little colourful birds that flitted around in the branches of those trees.

Harry's wings themselves were considered beautiful, big butterfly-like shaped things glistening pink in the light but white underneath, almost translucent.

He fluttered them behind him, feeling the breeze brushing off them. He was high up where he could see the most, studiously watching the human life on the ground below.

He shouldn't be here of course, he was beyond the borders of the part of the forest where his kind lived, but he couldn't help it.

Because Harry had found the prettiest thing of all.

✨ Flowers of Tomorrow, Seeds of Today by @haztobegood {G, 7k}

Louis grows up in a little cottage. Harry grows up inside the Forest. A dandelion grows at the Edge of the Forest. A wish on its seeds brings Louis and Harry together.

Or, Louis is a changeling and Harry is a human and their fates are more connected than they know.

✨ All This Time (I was Waiting for You) by @ohharold {E, 4k}

Harry and Louis have always been destined for each other. Some time apart has Harry reminiscent of their first meeting.

✨ Wonderland by orphan_account {G, 4k}

For the prompt: Harry the fairy takes up residence in Louis’ attic to hibernate through the cold months, but Louis ends up finding him whilst putting up the Christmas decorations. Queue grumpy Harry being woken up, but he can't go back to sleep once he's tried to hibernate, so he starts following Louis around, full of excitement and questions about his first Christmas.

✨ Carry These Feelings by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {G, 3k}

Harry is one of the fae, and has to return to Court once a year to please the Queen.

He makes a detour on his way home to Louis.

Two weeks and I'll be home.

✨ glow. by dontletmedown / @princessyles {M, 3k}

All Louis wanted was to escape the city and find inner peace. He didn't know he would also meet a beautiful fairy that would be part of his meaningful destiny he never knew he had.

The destiny to save.

✨ the most fantastic things by bluegreenish / @greenblueish {G, 2k}

When he reads a fairy tale today, and it’s one about love, Harry will find himself in it. Because in all the fairy tales about love that exist in the world, he knows that a little part of Louis and him is written in between the letters, hidden between every page that curious fingers turn.

or, Harry's version of the fairy tale Thumbelina, minus marrying toads or moles, plus waxing poetic about Louis.

✨ If You're Hoping for a Harbour by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {G, 2k}

Harry finds a ring.

✨ Curiosity by @hellolovers13 {G, 1k}

Fae Harry lets curiosity get the best of him.

Human Louis is intrigued.

[28harryssunflower]

Royal scandal - a mini series: Part 2/4

Royal scandal: Part 2

You stood in the middle of the grand dressing suite, surrounded by mirrors, stylists, and racks of silk and lace. Your wedding dress - carefully designed over the past few months - hung elegantly on a mannequin nearby, waiting for you.

A special stylist, one of the Queen’s personal favorites, carefully helped you step into it, adjusting the delicate fabric against your skin.

“You look breathtaking,” she murmured as she fastened the last few buttons.

You turned to the mirror, your breath catching in your throat.

The gown was perfect. A delicate blend of tradition and modernity, with intricate embroidery and a flowing train fit for a royal wedding. It cinched at the waist before cascading down in soft waves, and the veil - pure lace - was attached to a glittering tiara that once belonged to a former Queen.

You barely recognized yourself.

One of the hairstylists approached, gently beginning to weave your hair into an elegant updo, curling a few strands to frame your face. At the same time, a makeup artist worked on your face, enhancing your features while keeping your look natural and timeless.

As they worked, you stared at yourself in the mirror, your heart pounding.

This was it.

A soft knock at the door made you turn.

The Queen stepped inside, dressed in a regal lavender gown. Her eyes swept over you before a rare, warm smile graced her lips.

“You look magnificent,” she said.

You exhaled a shaky breath. “Thank you.”

She stepped forward, adjusting the tiara slightly. “Are you ready?”

You met her gaze in the mirror, determination settling in your chest.

“Yes.”

Meanwhile, across the palace, Harry stood in his own suite, adjusting the cuffs of his ceremonial uniform. The deep navy jacket, adorned with gold buttons and royal insignia, made him look every bit the Prince he was.

A royal aide handed him his sash, but Harry barely noticed. He was too busy pacing, his nerves getting the best of him.

“You’re going to wear a hole into the carpet,” his best man - his childhood friend, Niall - remarked from the couch.

Harry shot him a glare. “I can’t help it.”

Niall smirked. “You’ve performed in front of thousands, and yet, this is what makes you nervous?”

Harry exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “This is different. This is forever.”

Niall stood, adjusting Harry’s sash properly before clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Exactly. And you’ve wanted this forever.”

That was true.

Ever since the night he walked into that bar and met you, he had known.

Taking a deep breath, Harry straightened his jacket and turned to the mirror.

“Let’s do this.”

The grand doors of Westminster Abbey (yes, king Edward was able to get his will) opened, revealing an aisle lined with white roses and chandeliers that sparkled like diamonds. The grand organ played, and the entire world watched as you took your first step forward.

Your arm was linked with king Edward’s arm since your father wasn’t in the picture. But as you walked down the aisle, your eyes found Harry’s.

He stood at the altar, his breath visibly hitching as he took you in. His hands clenched at his sides, his green eyes shining with emotion.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

The whispers of the crowd, the flashing cameras, the pressure of an entire kingdom watching - it all faded away.

It was just you and him.

When you reached the altar, Harry took your hands in his, his grip warm and steady.

“You look…” he exhaled, shaking his head slightly. “Absolutely breathtaking.

You smiled, whispering, “You clean up pretty well yourself, Your Highness.”

A quiet chuckle passed between you before the officiant began.

The ceremony was a blur of vows, whispered I love yous, and the moment the Archbishop finally spoke the words:

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Harry didn’t wait.

The second he was allowed, he cupped your face and kissed you - deep and sure, the kind of kiss that made the entire world disappear. The crowd erupted in applause, and you heard distant camera shutters clicking wildly.

But none of it mattered.

Because you were his, and he was yours.

Forever.

The afterparty was held in Buckingham Palace, a grand affair with champagne towers, twinkling chandeliers, and live music that filled the ballroom.

You barely had time to breathe before you and Harry were whisked onto the dance floor for your first dance as husband and wife.

Harry held you close, his fingers resting on your waist as he swayed you gently to the soft melody. His forehead pressed against yours, a small smile on his lips.

“You’re my wife,” he murmured, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

You grinned. “And you’re my husband.”

Harry let out a soft chuckle. “God, I love the sound of that.”

The night went on in a blur of laughter, speeches, and stolen kisses. The King even gave a rare toast, looking almost proud as he welcomed you into the family.

At one point, Harry leaned down, his breath warm against your ear.

“Let’s sneak away.”

You raised a brow. “Harry, we’re literally in the middle of our own wedding reception.”

He smirked. “Exactly. No one will expect it.”

Rolling your eyes fondly, you let him tug you toward one of the quieter balconies, away from the crowd.

The cool night air brushed against your skin as you stepped outside. The city lights sparkled in the distance, but your gaze was only on Harry.

He pulled you close, his hands settling on your hips. “We actually did it,” he murmured.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair. “Yeah. We did.”

Harry exhaled, resting his forehead against yours. “You changed everything for me, you know that?”

Your heart swelled. “And I’d do it all over again.”

His lips brushed against yours in the softest, sweetest kiss, sealing a promise that needed no words.

Because this?

This was just the beginning.

The party was still in full swing when Harry whisked you away from the grand ballroom.

Laughter and music filled the palace halls as the two of you hurried through the corridors, your fingers intertwined, your heart racing.

The night had been a whirlwind - ceremony, speeches, dances, champagne toasts - but now, finally, it was just the two of you.

As soon as you reached your private suite, Harry barely gave you a chance to take a breath before pulling you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours.

“Mrs. Styles,” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky.

A shiver ran down your spine. “Prince Harry.”

He groaned dramatically. “You’re supposed to call me your husband now.”

You grinned. “That’s gonna take some getting used to.”

Harry leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “We have all the time in the world.”

And with that, he kissed you again, deeper this time, and the world outside the palace doors ceased to exist.

Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of your new bedroom - the one you and Harry now shared as husband and wife.

You stirred beneath the silk sheets, your body warm and tangled with his. His arm was draped over your waist, his face nestled in the crook of your neck.

For a moment, you just lay there, letting it all sink in.

You were married.

To Harry.

To Prince Harry of England.

Your fingers absentmindedly traced over his hand, feeling the cool metal of his wedding band.

As if sensing your thoughts, Harry groaned softly, tightening his grip around you. “Mm. Too early. Come back to sleep.”

You chuckled, turning in his arms to face him. “It’s not that early.”

Harry cracked one eye open, a lazy grin on his lips. “We just got married. We deserve a lie-in.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You just don’t want to get out of bed.”

He hummed, leaning in to brush his lips against your shoulder. “Can you blame me? My wife is finally mine - all mine.”

Heat crept up your neck at the way he said it.

“You’ve been waiting to say that, haven’t you?”

Harry smirked, pressing a kiss to your ring finger. “You have no idea.”

Of course, sleeping in wasn’t an option when you were part of the royal family.

Soon enough, there was a soft knock on the door, followed by the familiar voice of Harry’s personal aide.

“Your Royal Highness, breakfast has been prepared in the private dining hall.”

Harry groaned, burying his face into the pillow. “Tell them we’re dead.”

You laughed, swatting his shoulder. “Come on. If we don’t show up, they’ll send the Queen herself to drag us out of bed.”

Harry sighed dramatically but relented, rolling out of bed.

A short while later, the two of you entered the private dining hall, where the Queen, the King, and a few close royal family members were already seated.

The Queen smiled warmly when she saw you, gesturing to the empty seats beside her.

“Good morning, newlyweds.”

You blushed slightly as you and Harry took your seats. The table was set with an elaborate breakfast spread - fresh fruits, pastries, eggs, and of course, tea.

King Edward barely spared you a glance before addressing Harry. “I trust you’re ready to resume your royal duties soon.”

Harry exhaled through his nose. “Can I at least have one day to enjoy being married?”

The King merely raised a brow. “The country doesn’t stop for a wedding, Harry.”

Before Harry could snap back, you placed a hand on his knee, giving him a small squeeze.

The Queen cleared her throat, cutting through the tension. “I’m sure they’ll ease back into their duties in due time. Let them enjoy their first day together.”

Harry shot his mother a grateful look.

You smiled to yourself, realizing that - even with all the pressures and responsibilities - you weren’t in this alone.

You had Harry.

And you had a whole lifetime ahead of you.

The honeymoon phase didn’t last long.

Barely a week after the wedding, you and Harry were summoned for an official meeting with the royal advisors. It was time to begin your training - learning the duties and expectations that came with being the future King and Queen of England.

You had known this moment would come, but nothing could have prepared you for how intense it would be.

The grand meeting room inside Buckingham Palace was intimidating. Long mahogany table, high-backed chairs, and a group of advisors who had been serving the monarchy for decades.

You sat beside Harry at the head of the table, feeling every pair of eyes on you.

The King sat across from you both, expression unreadable. The Queen, ever the picture of composure, sat beside him.

An older man in a sharp suit cleared his throat. “Your Royal Highnesses, now that the wedding is behind us, we must discuss your responsibilities. His Majesty has decided that the transition to the next reign should begin sooner rather than later.”

You glanced at Harry, whose jaw tensed slightly.

The King spoke then, his deep voice carrying authority. “Your training will begin immediately. There is much to learn, and I expect you both to take this seriously.” His sharp gaze landed on Harry. “Especially you.”

Harry’s fingers tightened around yours beneath the table, but he said nothing.

Another advisor, Lady Catherine, smiled at you - one of the few friendly faces in the room. “Your role, Your Royal Highness,” she said, addressing you, “will be to support Prince Harry in his duties, as well as represent the monarchy in official engagements. You’ll be expected to travel, host state events, and work closely with charities.”

You nodded, trying to absorb everything.

“And you, Prince Harry,” another advisor chimed in, “must begin preparing for your future as King. This includes deepening your understanding of foreign relations, economic policies, and-“

Harry cut in, his voice tight. “I do understand these things.”

The King raised a brow. “Then prove it.”

Silence fell over the room.

You squeezed Harry’s hand under the table, a silent reminder that he wasn’t alone.

Lady Catherine quickly changed the subject. “We’ll start with the basics. You’ll both shadow Their Majesties in their daily duties, attend council meetings, and begin public engagements immediately.”

You swallowed. Immediately.

Your new life had officially begun.

A few days later, you and Harry had your first official engagement as the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge - a visit to a local children’s hospital.

You had expected it to be nerve-wracking, but the moment you stepped into the hospital and saw the children’s faces light up, everything changed.

You knelt beside a little girl in a hospital bed, her tiny hands gripping yours. “You’re so pretty,” she whispered shyly.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “And you, my darling, are the most beautiful princess I’ve ever seen.”

The little girl beamed, and your heart melted.

Harry, meanwhile, was surrounded by a group of kids, laughing as he let them place a plastic tiara on his head. “How do I look?” he asked, grinning.

You shook your head, grinning. “Absolutely regal.”

The visit was a success, and as you left the hospital, Harry exhaled deeply, lacing his fingers with yours.

“That was actually… nice,” he admitted.

You nodded. “Not everything about this life has to be duty and pressure, Harry. We can make a real difference.”

Harry looked at you, his gaze softening. “I think you’re going to be an incredible queen.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

The morning after your first public engagement, you woke up feeling dizzy and feverish. Your head throbbed with an intensity that made you cringe as soon as you opened your eyes. The sharp pain shot through your temples like needles, and your body felt like it had been run over by a carriage.

You pushed yourself out of bed, but as soon as your feet touched the floor, nausea overwhelmed you. You stumbled to the bathroom and barely managed to make it before you threw up, the entire experience leaving you trembling with weakness.

The fever was high, unmistakably high -!your temperature soaring well past 40°C, and your entire body shivered uncontrollably.

But you had duties.

You didn’t have the luxury to rest. You were the future Queen of England. You had an image to maintain, and there was no way you could miss an engagement today.

You dragged yourself back into the bedroom, trying your best to dress and freshen up. The makeup team was due soon for a photoshoot, and the press was expecting you to be at an event later in the afternoon. You couldn’t afford to make a bad impression.

As you reached for your shoes, your legs buckled, and you nearly collapsed onto the bed. A wave of dizziness hit, and you closed your eyes, willing the spinning to stop.

Just then, the door swung open.

Harry stepped in, his face softening the moment he saw you. “What the hell is going on?”

You tried to sit up, brushing your damp hair out of your face. “I’m fine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not fine, Y/N. You look like you’ve been run over.”

“I’m fine,” you repeated, forcing a smile. “I have an event today. I can’t miss it.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced. He feels your forehead. “You’re glowing.”

“I don’t have time for this.” You stood, swaying slightly, trying to keep your balance. “I need to look perfect, Harry. The press is watching, the public is watching. I can’t afford to miss this.”

He stepped forward, catching your arm as you swayed. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was firm, but there was an underlying worry. “You’re not fine. You’re seriously sick.”

You tried to pull away, but Harry’s grip tightened, and for once, you saw the seriousness in his eyes.

“You can’t keep pushing yourself like this,” he said sternly. “You need to listen to your body. Your health comes first.”

You shook your head stubbornly, feeling the sharp sting of the migraine flare up again. “I have to do this, Harry.”

Harry stepped back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Fine.”

Before you could protest further, Harry moved swiftly, dialing his parents.

A few moments later, the phone call was over, and his voice was louder, more commanding than ever. “You’re staying in bed. I’m getting my parents here. They’re going to explain to you why you need to rest. Now.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Harry cut you off.

“No. Enough. I’m calling my mom to talk some sense into you.”

The Queen and King arrived shortly after, both looking concerned but not surprised.

Anne, ever the practical one, immediately stepped forward. “Y/N, love, you’re pale as a ghost. What on earth possessed you to try to power through this?”

You tried to sit up straighter, but a fresh wave of dizziness had you reaching for the bedpost for support.

“I… I have duties. I can’t cancel.”

The Queen’s expression softened, but her voice was firm. “You must take care of yourself, darling. The public and the royal duties will still be there, but your health won’t wait. This is exactly why you have to listen to your body.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Anne raised a hand gently to stop you. “Y/N, being sick like this isn’t something you can ignore. If you don’t rest, you’ll just make it worse. And then you won’t be able to do anything at all.”

Tears welled in your eyes at the thought of failing on such a public scale. You felt weak and helpless, which only made you more frustrated.

“I’m supposed to be perfect,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t mess up in front of the world. I can’t.”

Anne’s eyes softened as she sat beside you on the bed. “Sweetheart, no one expects you to be perfect all the time. Being sick doesn’t make you weak, and it certainly doesn’t make you unfit to be Queen. You need to rest.”

The King, usually a man of few words, nodded gravely. “You’ll find, Y/N, that your body won’t perform on willpower alone. If you ignore it now, it will be harder to recover later. You have to take care of yourself.”

You swallowed hard, the exhaustion weighing you down more than you wanted to admit.

Reluctantly, you nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay in bed.”

Harry walked over, his eyes softening at the sight of your flushed face and defeated posture. “Thank you, Y/N. You’re not letting anyone down by taking care of yourself.”

He sat beside you, brushing your hair away from your forehead. “I don’t care about the press. I care about you.”

Anne stood and nodded to Harry, her tone lighter now. “We’ll check on you later, dear. Rest up. And don’t even think about getting out of bed.”

You managed a weak smile as they left, the tension in your shoulders finally starting to ease.

You spent the rest of the day in a haze of feverish sleep, your body struggling to heal. Harry stayed by your side, checking on you frequently, but for the most part, you slept through the hours.

As the day wore on, the fever began to break, and your headache began to dull, but you were still exhausted. Every time you woke, Harry would gently bring you some water, making sure you were comfortable, before allowing you to rest again.

Later that afternoon, Anne came by once more, bringing with her a light broth for you to eat. She fussed over you for a bit, tucking the blanket around your shoulders.

“You’re lucky you have a husband who cares about you so much,” she said, her voice teasing but warm.

You nodded, your throat sore. “I know.”

She smiled softly, smoothing your hair back. “Take this time to rest. It’s what you need.”

And though you didn’t want to admit it, deep down, you knew she was right. You couldn’t be the best for others if you didn’t first take care of yourself.

That night, Harry kissed your forehead, his touch warm.

“Rest, love. We’ll take on the world tomorrow.”

You smiled faintly, your body finally giving in to the sleep it so desperately needed.

The next few days were a blur of sleep, recovery, and the occasional visit from Harry, Anne, and even the King. They had all been so understanding, but you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for not being able to push through. You knew Harry had a lot on his plate, and he was determined to give you space to heal, but the guilt lingered.

Even though you were slowly recovering, it wasn’t easy being confined to bed, especially knowing how many people were depending on you. There was a royal function coming up soon, and you were expected to attend. The press was buzzing about the newlywed royals, and you could already hear the whispers about your health.

Despite the warmth of Harry’s care and the support of his family, your mind raced, filled with worries about the responsibilities awaiting you.

As the fever finally broke, you started to feel like yourself again, though you were still weak. You hadn’t fully recovered yet, but you were desperate to get back into the swing of things.

Harry, on the other hand, remained calm and patient, sensing your restlessness. He had seen how hard you were pushing yourself before you got sick, and he wasn’t going to let you do the same now that you were recovering.

One afternoon, after a quiet breakfast in your private suite, Harry gently took your hands in his, his eyes serious yet filled with understanding.

“Y/N,” he said softly, “you’re not going back to work yet.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he stopped you. “You’re still not fully recovered. Your health comes first.”

You sighed, feeling frustrated. “But Harry, we have so much to do. People are depending on us. The press, the charities, the royal engagements.”

“I know,” he said, his voice steady. “But the only way you’re going to be good for them is if you’re good for yourself first. No one can do this job perfectly all the time.”

You met his gaze, realizing how much he had learned in such a short time - how much he truly understood the weight of everything you were both about to face.

“Okay,” you murmured reluctantly. “But I’ll go stir-crazy if I stay in bed much longer.”

Harry chuckled and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “We’ll take it slow. I promise. I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

Two weeks later, you were finally well enough to attend a royal event again, though still not at full strength. Your doctors insisted on a low-key return to the public eye, which meant a quiet appearance at a charity gala focused on education. The last thing they wanted was for you to relapse, but they also understood that as the future Queen, you couldn’t stay behind the palace walls forever.

Harry stood by your side, ever vigilant, as you entered the gala with your head held high. The press buzzed with excitement, flashes of cameras illuminating the room. Your heart skipped a beat, but this time, you weren’t focused on perfection. Instead, you focused on the cause - the charity that meant so much to you both.

And with Harry at your side, you felt strong enough to face it.

Despite the exhaustion from the previous days, you were determined to show that you could manage both the responsibilities of your new life and your health. Harry’s quiet support gave you strength, and soon you were engaging with the guests, smiling for photos, and genuinely feeling like you were doing some good in the world.

The event was a success, and afterward, you and Harry shared a private moment in a quiet corner of the palace.

“You were amazing tonight,” Harry said, his eyes filled with admiration. “I knew you could do it.”

You smiled, still a little exhausted but proud of yourself. “I just had to pace myself. But I’m glad I could do something good again.”

Harry pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone, Y/N. You’re already doing more than enough. You’re the future Queen of England, and that’s more than anyone could ask for.”

You sighed, resting your head on his chest. “I just want to be the best I can be for you… and for us.”

Harry kissed your forehead, a soft smile spreading across his face. “You are. And I’ll always be here for you. We’re in this together, every step of the way.”

And with those words, you knew that no matter how difficult the road ahead might be, you weren’t alone. Harry was by your side, and together, you would face the challenges of the royal world and carve out a life full of love and purpose.

The weight of the crown, you realized, was much easier to bear when you had someone like him to share it with.

A few months after your return to public life, you had settled into a rhythm. The constant media attention had become less daunting, and the long hours of charity work and public engagements had started to feel like a second nature. The more you learned, the more you realized just how important your role was - not just for the people of England, but for Harry too.

You had truly become a team.

But with that comfort, there was always an underlying sense of pressure. The responsibility of ruling the country one day weighed heavily on both of you. Harry still hadn’t completely adjusted to the idea of becoming King, though he had grown into his duties with grace and determination. And, as always, your role as his partner was pivotal.

It was one early evening when you were all seated in the family’s private dining room at Buckingham Palace. The table was beautifully set, the soft glow of the chandelier reflecting off the polished surface. There was an air of quiet anticipation - something was clearly on Harry’s parents’ minds.

You sat beside Harry, glancing at him. He looked pensive, as if already aware of what was coming. His fingers lightly brushed against yours, a reassuring touch, but you could sense his anxiety.

The King and Queen had yet to speak, but when they finally did, it was clear they had something serious to discuss.

“Harry, Y/N,” the Queen began, her voice calm but direct. “There are some matters we need to discuss regarding the future of the monarchy.”

Harry’s brow furrowed, his eyes locking onto his mother. You felt the sudden tension in the room, the quiet thrum of something unspoken hanging in the air.

The King leaned forward slightly, his usual stoic expression softened just enough to reveal the importance of his words. “We’ve been discussing the future of this family and the crown for some time. The time has come for you to step into a new role, Harry.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what was happening. You glanced at Harry, who was now looking at his father with a quiet intensity, processing the weight of the statement.

“We believe it’s time for you to officially begin preparing to take over as King,” the Queen continued, her voice steady but undeniably firm. “It’s not a decision we’ve made lightly, but we think the time has come for you to assume your rightful place.”

The room fell silent. Harry’s lips parted, but no words came out. He looked like he was swallowing a lump in his throat, the reality of what was being said hitting him harder than ever before.

You could see the tension in his body - his shoulders tense, his jaw tight.

“The country needs you, Harry,” the King added, his voice grave. “And with your marriage to Y/N, it’s only a matter of time before the transition is made. We trust that you will rise to the occasion, but it’s time to prepare. And we need to be certain you’re ready.”

Harry shifted in his seat, the weight of the moment weighing heavily on him. “I… I’m not sure I’m ready,” he said quietly.

The Queen smiled softly. “You will be. But you need to understand that this change comes with great responsibility - something we can’t delay any longer. The monarchy cannot remain stagnant.”

You could see Harry fighting with his emotions, his desire to step up mixed with his uncertainty about what it all meant.

“And there’s another matter,” the King continued, his tone shifting slightly, as if to take the edge off the seriousness of what had been said. “We are looking toward the future of the monarchy in more ways than one.”

Harry glanced at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“We want grandchildren, Harry,” the Queen stated plainly, her gaze meeting yours now. “The people are eager to see a new generation in the family. You and Y/N are already the future of the monarchy, but to solidify that future, it’s time to start thinking about building a family.”

You blinked, your heart racing. The sudden shift in the conversation had caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected them to bring up children so soon. Of course, you had talked about it privately with Harry, but hearing it from his parents - especially in such a serious context - made the pressure feel so much heavier.

Harry’s face flushed slightly as he processed their words. “I… I didn’t realize you were thinking about that yet.”

The Queen smiled kindly, though her words carried the weight of royalty. “You have to understand, Harry, that the crown isn’t just about your duties. It’s about the legacy that you will leave behind. The people need to know that there’s continuity. We are asking you to start thinking about children in the near future, perhaps sooner than you might have anticipated.”

You felt Harry’s hand tighten around yours under the table. “I-” he started but faltered, unsure of how to articulate his thoughts. He wasn’t ready for the magnitude of their expectations. He had never imagined this part of the royal journey would come with such urgency.

“I understand,” you interjected softly, sensing Harry’s discomfort. “But we’re not rushing this. We’ll do it when we’re ready, together.”

The Queen’s gaze softened at your words. “Of course. We don’t mean to rush you, Y/N. But you must understand the position we’re in. The monarchy thrives on legacy and continuity. The sooner you’re able to expand your family, the sooner the country will have the stability it craves.”

You glanced at Harry, his features conflicted. You could feel his unease, his desire to meet his parents’ expectations, but you also knew how much pressure he was already carrying.

“I just… I want to do this right,” Harry finally said, his voice rough. “I don’t want to let anyone down, especially you.”

The King reached across the table, placing a firm hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You won’t, son. We have no doubt you’ll be ready. Just remember, you’re not in this alone. You and Y/N will face it together, and that’s all we ask.”

The Queen nodded in agreement. “The future of the monarchy rests in your hands, Harry. But we know you’re capable. We just wanted to have this conversation now, so you’re aware of what lies ahead.”

You squeezed Harry’s hand tighter, reassuring him silently. He didn’t need to take on the world alone. You were right there with him, every step of the way.

“Thank you,” Harry said, his voice quieter but filled with sincerity. “I… I’ll start preparing. For all of it.”

The Queen smiled, and the King gave a nod of approval. “We have faith in you both. And don’t forget, we’ll be here to help you when the time comes.”

As the conversation wound down, you and Harry shared a private glance. The weight of the future - of children, of being King and Queen - was a lot to bear, but at least you had each other. And that, for now, was enough.

Later that evening, you and Harry took a walk through the palace gardens, the soft moonlight casting a calming glow over the peaceful surroundings. The conversation with his parents lingered in both of your minds. The pressure, the expectations, and the future were all hanging heavily over you.

But Harry was still holding your hand tightly, as though grounding himself in the present.

“Do you feel ready for all this?” you asked quietly, unsure if you meant the responsibility or the idea of starting a family so soon.

Harry paused, turning to face you. His expression was open, vulnerable. “Honestly? No. But I know we’ll figure it out. Together.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers against his cheek. “Together,” you repeated softly, feeling your heart steady in his presence.

And in that moment, despite the uncertainty and the pressure, you knew one thing for sure - you and Harry would face whatever came next as a team. Together.

[delumineight]

romione fic list

because it’s hard to find good ones

disclaimer, these are mostly all on ao3. this will be updated every now and then and open for suggestions !!! if you have any suggestions please reblog with them. this is an ongoing list that i will be adding to whenever i find something that i like enough to rec.

list below the cut, just so people who aren’t on my account or in the tags for this don’t have to see it.

rec list

the reasons by incalculablepower

— RATED T: background harry/ginny, past lavender/ron, a tad of inappropriate humor at the end, takes place at the end of sixth year or half-blood prince

SUMMARY: “As the school year comes to an end, it's time to reflect on the one that's passed and prepare for the next year. And with their two best friends otherwise occupied (that is, snogging all over the castle), that means a lot of quality time spent together...”

resistance of the mind by tuesday_piracy

— RATED G: background harry/ginny, current lavender/ron, pining hermione, black hermione, black lavender, takes place during christmastime sixth year or half-blood prince

SUMMARY: “Hogwarts is hosting a Winter Solstice Ball for their older students, and naturally, Ron and Lavender plan on attending together. However, as the night of the Ball arises, Ron is racked with familiar concerns over his attire, his looks, and his hair. So, naturally, he turns to Hermione, and she can't help but aid him. — Or: Hermione gives Ron a haircut. Absolutely nothing (something) happens.

anywhere with you by kieunlocked

— RATED G: takes place during deathly hallows during the horcrux hunt before ron leaves, discussing where they would rather be then in a damp tent in the middle of nowhere

“One-Shot of Ron and Hermione talking about places they’d rather be than the cold, miserable tent during the Horcrux Hunt. / “Though, to be honest I might rather be in the Potions dungeon right now than in this bloody cold tent any longer,” Hermione groaned, wrapping her arms around herself. / “Not the Potions dungeon, Hermione!” Ron said with mock disgust, slinging an arm around her easily, effortlessly. As if he’d done it a million times. And when Hermione thought about it, he really had been doing it quite a bit lately.”

don’t talk (put your head on my shoulder) by sarahxxxlovey

— RATED T: shell cottage, pre relationship, aftermath of torture, missing scene, takes place during deathly hallows

““I don’t know what I would’ve done if—” Ron said in an uncharacteristically tender voice, pulling away slightly to cover her cheeks with large hands, tears dripping down his nose. “I couldn’t— I thought I was going to lose my mind.” / “Me too,” she said, swallowing and nodding, looking up at him. “I didn’t think I could take it… I—” / Words failed her. She broke down into sobs again. / “Hermione,” he said, his voice cracking, kissing her wet cheek quickly before hugging her even tighter. “I’m just so glad you're okay.””

let the golden age begin by incalculablepower

— RATED T: missing scene, during lavender/ron, during apparation testing, maybe a tad and i mean tad bit of emotional cheating, as in people mistake them for boyfriend and girlfriend and neither of them make corrections, half-blood prince, sixth year

“A couple of awkward moments in a still-healing friendship. Half-Blood Prince missing moment.”

funny little frog in my throat by anonymous

RATED T — pining, specifically pining ron, fluff and humor, idiots in love, my personal all time favorite, they’re still magical but no war au

“Ron loves Hermione. It's an ugly business, he's very upset about it, but he loves her and that seems to be the axis on which his world turns.”

self recs

meet me in the woods

— RATED T: secret dating au, starts at the end of sixth year and runs until the shell cottage scene in deathly hallows, written for romione week 2023, oblivious harry, 9k words… oops

““We could just… not tell him.” / “Just keeping it a secret? Okay.” / Whatever Joanne wrote for Deathly Hallows was NOT real. This is (trust me).”

that damned cat

— RATED G: post-war, hermione’s eighth year, crookshanks fic, cuts to around 2009/2010 i think, cat dad ron, and just general dad ron, wine uncles drarry

“Ron hates that cat—but he loves Hermione more.”

[bridenore]

HD Something made them do it fic recs

Here are a few drarry fic recs where, of course, “something made them do it”. Listed in alphabetical order, as always.

Burning the Ground by @lqtraintracks [10k]

“Strap him down,” someone said, and Harry felt the rage thicken inside him – the viscous fear.

 Magical bindings pulled taut around his wrists … He felt a wand touch his arm and then a sharp bite as something punctured the skin, and a sweet, cool tonic rushed his veins.

 His breathing slowed. His eyelids drooped. The ceiling went grey and dark. And then he heard a woman’s voice sigh, “Someone, get Healer Malfoy.”

The Company of The Rose by @lower-east-side [31k]

Six years after the war, Draco Malfoy has been restoring magical estates, while sidestepping his mother’s plots to marry him off and resolutely avoiding his issues. An advert in the Prophet takes him to a remote island, where a mysterious stranger has purchased an abandoned retreat. But the house has a few secrets of its own, and Draco will be forced to deal with not only his past, but the possibilities of the future.

The Destiny You Sold by @tryslora [58k]

In which Draco knits, Harry makes wands, and things get very tangled up between them.

Fall on the Earth by @dodgerkedavra [15k]

Harry Potter hates being separated from Draco Malfoy. Not because he’s in love with him, for Merlin’s sake! Because they’re Auror Partners. One time is all it takes for Draco to be attacked with an illicit potion. Until it wears off, Harry’s job is taking care of his partner. Harry thinks the effects of the potion can’t possibly be as serious as Robards says. He thinks wrong.

The Great Magic Sex Mushroom Fiasco by Magnolia822 [6k]

Lost in the Siberian wilderness without food, Aurors Potter and Malfoy are forced to improvise, with unexpected consequences …

If It Takes All Night by @tackytigerfic [10k]

It’s not the first time Harry’s been the victim of a botched curse (that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t like crowds), but he feels bad that Malfoy had to get caught up in it too.

So they’re bonded. That’s ok, they just have to make sure to be touching at all time. No problem. Because Malfoy smells so nice, and has such lovely shiny hair, and his skin is so very warm.

But this isn’t going to be a problem for their friendship at all.

Is it, Harry?

In the Interest of Interhouse Cooperation by @firethesound [11k]

Organizing a Duelling Club was supposed to be a fun extracurricular activity for Harry’s 8th year. But add in Draco Malfoy and a malfunctioning Room of Requirement, and things can’t help but get complicated.

Incident Reports (That’s Not How May Queen Works Remix) by megyal [5k]

Only you, mate, Ron says, and doused with May Queen, honestly, and can’t wait for this report.

The Light More Beautiful by @firethesound [81k]

Thirteen years after Draco accepts Potter’s help escaping the horror of his sixth year, he returns to England where he makes the unfortunate discovery that Potter is still as obnoxious as ever. And worse, more than a decade overseas hasn’t been enough to dim Draco’s obsession with him.

Lubido Mendax by @malenkayacherepakha [17k]

When Harry is hit by an old and alarming sex curse while on a job with Malfoy, he’s faced with an agonising decision. But it turns out that curing the curse was easy compared to everything that came next.

Men Who Love Dragons Too Much by @fencer-x [479k]

[Extensive re-telling of Deathly Hallows] As in Half-blood Prince, Draco is charged by Voldemort with killing Dumbledore—only instead of trying to do his best with the challenge, he realizes he’s been set a futile task and instead focuses on finding a way to save both himself and his parents. He eventually decides to spend his sixth year studying Animagecraft, convinced it’s his best shot at escaping the impossible situation he’s found himself in. But just his luck, his Animagus form turns out to be a dragon, and a rather randy juvenile at that, intent on finding its mate: one Harry James Potter.

Of Mouslings and Men by dornfelder [14k]

Harry encounters the Subspecies of Doom. He also realises he likes chocolate frogs a lot, despite his greatest efforts to convince himself otherwise.

The Only Magic Left Between Us by @lqtraintracks [24k]

Harry goes to the market and ends up having to save Draco Malfoy’s life  with sex. He saves Draco’s life with sex and ends up with a husband. The  last thing he expects in all of it is to fall in love.

Sealed with a Kiss by @faith2wood [46k]

Harry Potter will fall in love with the first person who kisses him. Draco knows what he must do. A Christmassy Hogwarts fic, this.

Sex and the Art of Castle Maintenance by birdsofshore [14k]

“Come on, boys,” Zabini drawled. “You’re only delaying the inevitable.”

Trouble always had a way of finding Harry, and eighth year was obviously going to be no exception.

Strange Bathfellows by @bixgirl1 [27k]

It started with a bath.  Or a potions accident.  Or maybe it started before that, but who can tell anymore.  

Featuring: Uncomfortable wanking, more comfortable wanking, mutual wanking, bath sharing, inappropriate betting, secret shagging, those secrets at Hogwarts that everyone knows, and oblivious Harry who knows one thing: he’s falling in love.

That Old Black Magic by @bixgirl1 [77k]

Centuries ago, marriage contracts were the norm — ready-made alliances between families, expected and complied with, without complaint. But norms have a way of changing, and when a long-dormant contract flares to life, Harry has to navigate an unexpected splintering of the path he’d thought would be easy after the war… with Draco Malfoy.

Tug-O-Want by @dysonrules [16k]

Harry is back at Hogwarts minding his own business when he finds himself magically drawn to Draco Malfoy. Over and over again.

Twice as Much as an Earthquake by @firethesound [18k]

Accidental bonding. Breaking and entering. Conspiring, however unwillingly, in the strange one-man war Malfoy’s waging against detention. This isn’t the normal school year Harry anticipated having, but at least it’s not boring.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[foxes-that-run]

Harry for GQ Australia May 2018

(There’s a good story about Winston’s wife bumping into a very naked, very blonde, very famous pop star making toast downstairs one morning if you ever get the chance to ask.)

There's just something about Harry

FOLKLORE. MYTHOLOGY. LEGACY. Big words that chime with serious musicians far louder than a bathroom shelf cluttered with Grammys. These are also the totemic words a young man or woman can stay awake all night cowering over; imagined stories of fame and fortune blinking like lost Russian satellites in the solar system of a blackened bedroom, orbiting around the sun of one's burning youthful ambition. Or in other words: teenage kicks, right through the night. Remember them?

Harry Styles has been thinking awfully hard about legacy and lore and longevity over the past couple of years. He’s had to. After all, post-One Direction and, suddenly, Styles (now 24) finds himself in total control. It’s all him. Finally, he can open his mouth, his songbook and say, as he did, “I didn’t want to write [just] ‘stories’. I wanted to write my stories, things that had happened to me.”

It’s also meant that the buck stops right there, at his 10 snaffle loafers. There’s no more sly avoidance tactics. No more inter-band squabbles to blame. No Svengali or puppet master in the background with dollar signs in his eyes and gold fillings in his molars. (Although his new manager, Jeffery Azoff, son of legendary music mogul Irving Azoff, has been steering Style’s career as attentively as a father would teach his son how to ride a bike, one hand letting go, one hand still on the saddle.)

A word Styles drifts towards in interviews since he’s become the best-dressed pop troubadour since Elton donned a rhinestone jumpsuit and a pair of salmon pink shades is ‘honesty’. Styles’ legacy, he believes at this point, is about finding the music that allows his truest self to be revealed. Or at least, those candid parts of himself that he wants to reveal. If One Direction was all a brand’s vision, someone else’s worldview, then this is his antidote. How’s that for ambition then? A pop star who wants to tear down artifice? A treacherous game, perhaps, when the world is watching your every move.

You don’t need to be a rock star, of course, to enjoy a rock star tale, whether they are true or not doesn’t necessarily matter; “Print the myth!” as David Bowie's publicist was once so fond of telling reporters, itself a spin, ironically, from a line delivered in the James Stewart movie The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.

WHEN THE ROCK STAR BODY IS SPENT, IT WILL BE THE STORIES THAT WILL REMAIN. IT'S THE STORIES THAT CREATE THE AURA AFTER ALL.

When the rock star body is spent, it will be the stories, passed down through the generations like punk rock heirlooms, that will remain. It’s the stories that create the aura, after all. As Styles himself has commented: It is the rumors and the whispers that help create the mystery.

We all have our personal favorites. Like the time Keith Richards supposedly stayed up for nine days straight: “I fell asleep standing up... Woke up in a pool of blood wondering, ‘Is that claret?’” Or in 1984 when Ozzy Osbourne joined Motley Crue on the road to oblivion and proved his rock ’n’ roll worth by snorting a line of ants off the pavement. (I guess that beats snorting your own father’s ashes, right Keef?)

Yet not all musical mythology is anchored in riotous bacchanalia. The stories surrounding Prince’s vast ‘vault’ of music locked away in Paisley Park, for example, and the exquisite songs he wrote about failed love that he would record late at night, sometimes after a date gone wrong, and then have his engineer wipe immediately, gone forever, as they were just too poignant to keep.

So then, what of Styles’ legacy? Having snuck out of the juggernauting boy band colossus in August 2015 and emerging relatively intact — give or take a total lack of privacy, no semblance of a normal life, really long hair, and more Hawaiian shirts than Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson has leg days — now solo, alone, and head to toe in some seriously kaleidoscopic (and enviable) Gucci suits, he is in as good a position as anyone to begin to weave his own mythology, his own fantastical tapestry, that will inspire and provoke and ignite the imaginations (and loins, make no mistake) of the next generation of dreamers, both young and old.

Yet, ask yourself this: what is The Harry Styles Myth, thus far? If, heaven forbid, his private plane were to sweep through a skein of geese at 20,000ft, submit to catastrophic, double-engine failure and smash into the side of Mt Eyjafjallajokull, then what would be the most luminous highlights of his life retold in newspaper obituaries and around bar tables, the world over?

There would be moments from the One Direction fable, talk of Simon Cowell’s rictus grin perhaps and of Taylor Swift's vengeful lyrics, of that there is no doubt. But what else? Well, this is what Styles is in the process of securing right here, right now. His estate. His domain. His very own Paisley Park.

I’ve been fortunate enough to meet Styles a number of times, on the record and off, and he has always remembered my name. This isn’t meant to sound pompous on my part, quite the opposite. You see, Styles remembers everyone’s name. If Dave Grohl is considered by many as The Nicest Man in Rock, then Harry Styles is without question The Politest Man in Pop. Still, I mention this detail as it is significant: Styles cares what people think of him. He understands the power of reputation, and how quickly a reputation can proceed any talent in this business.

Styles, however, a middle-class kid from the right side of the tracks has been brought up, both inside and outside the industry, by those who have continually told him to be empathetic and humble. Styles is also acutely aware that being thoughtful and considerate to others may well stand him in good stead if anything were to go wonky with his output. The judge and jury that make up the press and public are far more forgiving of a boy who has been self-effacing on his way up than a rocker who has only ever been wretchedly arrogant.

Styles is savvy enough to keep an incredibly smart team of friends and colleagues around him to keep him grounded. That goes for both official and unofficial management. Take his friend Ben Winston, for example, a staggering talent himself — the youngest show runner in the history of late night TV to come out of the UK and take charge of an American chat show, in this instance The Late Late Show with James Corden, of which he is now executive producer.

Styles has known Winston for years, heeds his advice, trusts his advice from the outside, in. Styles even lived in his loft in Hampstead Heath for a short period of time; providing a shelter away from the press and public at a time when the band were bigger than Coca-Cola. (There’s a good story about Winston’s wife bumping into a very naked, very blonde, very famous pop star making toast downstairs one morning if you ever get the chance to ask.)

Winston, Corden, and Styles, three British men breaking and making it in the States, know how precious this opportunity they have is. They talk about it. They’re allies; loyal, connected, understanding. They recognize instinctively how the press works — years in Britain, battling tabloid hacks has taught them, especially Corden, that “never complain, never explain” is a motto well worth abiding by.

Also, to secure one’s professional legacy, then you’d better do something about it, otherwise someone else will. The sharks are hungry in this business. So be polite. Be professional. Stay focused on doing that thing you do — whether music, film, talk shows, or Carpool Karaoke — better than anyone else. Take charge of your own stories, your own legacy.

Aside from whether or not you enjoy Styles’ new music, his ’70s-inspired troubadour rock, whether or not you appreciate or care who he is dating, his sexuality, or how he takes his coffee in the morning, Harry knows the key to sustaining the magic is to keep the mystery. It’s for this reason, now solo, he does so little press. He knows who he is; he wants his audiences to know parts of him too. Just not everything.

“With an artist like Prince,” says Styles, “all you wanted to do was know more. And that mystery — it’s why those people are so magical! Like, fuck, I don’t know what Prince eats for breakfast. That mystery... it’s just what I like.”

Constructing a dreamy, musical folklore in this day and age — where social media rages with the minutiae of everyday life, for the famous and non-famous alike — is one of the toughest tasks a pop star can attempt to do. Especially if you’ve been under the glare as Harry has. Thus far, by our book, the boy band member formerly known as Harry Styles is doing just fine.

[cinemastyles-blog]

Visiting Home Part 2

Summary: Y/N and Harry continue to celebrate Christmas at his family's home

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, unprotected sex, fluffiness

Visiting Home Part 1

Master

PRINCE HAIR HARRY

I can feel Harry's gentle touch on my lower back and I slowly roll over to face him, "Morning." I mumble with a smile, my eyes still closed.

I feel his lips brush mine and his hand slides down my side, his fingers tracing over my hip, "Good morning." He whispers nudging my neck with his nose, "sleep well?"

I nod and slowly open my eyes, "I did."

"Good." His lips plant kisses over my shoulder and his hand slowly slides between my legs, "Good."

I part my thighs and turn to look over at him. He smiles at me as his fingers gentle presses on and rubs tiny circles onto my clit, "I'm glad."

He leans in and whispers, "Are you still okay with what we talked about last night?"

I bite my lip and my eyes flutter shut, "Yes."

He adds more pressure, "I can't stop thinking about it."

I arch my back slightly and reach down to grab his arm, "Please, Harry."

He chuckles softly, "Please what, baby?" He moves his finger lower and slides it between my folds, "This?"

I nod quickly, "Yes. Yes."

He slide his hand over to my hip and rolls me over so I'm on top on him, "You're in control, baby." His hands rests on my hips as I bite my lip and reach down to grab his cock.

His eyes flicker down and he watches as I slide down onto him. His lips part and his fingers sink into my skin, "Shit."

"Shh, baby." I whisper as I lean down, "Don't want to wake anyone up just yet."

He nods and bucks his hips, "I need you to move, baby."

I slowly lift my hips up and slide back down, building up to a semi-fast pace. I bury my head into his neck and whimper, "Baby."

"Hmm." He turns his head and kisses my cheek, "That feel good?"

I nod and sink my nails into his shoulder, "Y-Yes." I lean up and tilt my head back as I lay my hands on his chest.

"Such a beautiful view, baby." He moans and bucks his hips again, "Fuck."

He rolls up over and pushes all the way in, "You feel so good." He groans as he thrusts, "So fucking good."

I clench around him and grip the sheets as my body arches off the bed. He wraps an arm under my back and kisses between my boobs.

He grunts and pushes all the way in, "I-I- fuck."

I can feel his cock twitching inside of me, and I moan.

He waits a few minutes, just staring down at me before he pulls out, "I have something for you."

I walk to the bathroom and turn the shower on. I lean against the door frame as I see him open the closet and pull out a neatly wrapped package, "What is that?"

"For you. I had it mailed here and my mom wrapped it." He hands it to me, "I wanted to give it to you last night, but.." he smirks, "Open it!"

He interlocks his hands together and holds them to his chin.

I unwrap the package and my lips part, "Harry. You didn't!" I drop the wrapping paper and hold up the two packs of matching pajamas, "You got some too?"

"I did. One for you, and one for me." He smiles and walks over, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." I smile and give him a kiss.

——

"Good morning and Merry Christmas!" Anne says walking in with coffee, "Here you go, sweetie." She hands me a mug and I smile, "Thank you!"

She smiles and sits down, "Alright. So who wants to go first?"

"I will!" Gemma says handing us our gifts, "I hope you like them."

I open them up and my mouth drops, "Are these out yet?"

She shakes her head, "Not yet. They're the newest ones we've been working on."

"I love them." I pop the sunglasses on and l look over at Harry, "How do-" I laugh when I see Harry do the same thing.

"They look beautiful on you, thanks Gem." He smiles and puts them back into the case.

Harry gives Gemma and Anne their gift from us and we sit back and wait as they open them.

"Oh I love it it's beautiful!" Anne says holding up the necklace, "Thank you both so much!"

"This is so pretty!" Gemma says looking over the scarf, "Thank you!"

Anne gives us our gifts and I cover my mouth, "Awe. Anne. This is.. this is beautiful." My eye graze over the picture frame with mine and Harry's name on it, and engraved is the date we started dating.

I blink away the tears and show Harry.

He smiles and shakes his head, "That's such an old picture, mom."

Anne smiles and bats the air, "It's my favorite."

"Thank you." I get up and walk over to her and hug her.

"I'm so glad to have you as part of our family." She whispers and kisses my cheek. I smile and walk back over and sit next to Harry.

My eyes keep scanning over the picture and I can't help but not smile.

"Thanks mom." Harry walks over and hugs her. She smiles and pats his back, "You're welcome, darling."

Harry walks over to the tree and grabs a box, "Here's your other present." He hands me the box and I take it, "Oh gosh, Harry."

I start to unwrap it, and there's a box. I open it and there's another box.

"No, Harry. You didn't." I pul the box out and hold it up, "Such a nice gift."

They all laugh and I unwrap that one to find another box.

Then another box.

Then another box.

And finally, another box.

"Okay. Okay. That should be the last one." Harry chuckles.

I open it and there's a card, "Look behind the tree."

I look at Harry, "Huh?"

"Go look behind the tree." He smirks and I look at Anne who shrugs. I slowly get up and walk over to the tree, leaning around to check it.

"Harry there's no-"

I drop to my knees and start to cry.

"Y/N. Will you please do me the honor and agree to become my wife?" Harry gives me a smile and looks at me, "I love you so, so much. You're the person I want to start a family with."

I nod my head and fall into him, almost knocking both of us over, "Yes. Yes. A hundred times. Yes."

He pulls me in tighter and kisses my cheek over and over again, "I love you."

"I love you."

——

"So." Anne says sipping her wine, "How does it feel to be engaged, y/n?"

I look down at the ring and smile, "I love it."

Harry lays a hand on mine, "I love you." He leans in and kisses me on the cheek, but stays to linger to quickly whisper into my ear, "I can't wait to see that hand with the ring wrapped around my cock."

I clench my jaw to keep my composure and I let out a sigh. He smirks as he can tell he has me flustered.

"What we're you thinking? Spring wedding? Summer wedding?" Gemma asks, "I'm so exited."

I shrug, "Oh wow. I Um, I haven't put much thought into it honestly."

"We'll figure it out." Harry moves closer and sets his hand on my thigh, "We have all the time in the world."

He shifts his hand to the inside of my thigh and gives it a little squeeze. I clench my thighs together on his hand and lean forward slightly, spreading them for him.

"Gem, you're definitely the maid of honor, so act surprised when I ask you later on with a cute box of stuff." I laugh and take a sip of my water.

Harry moves his hand up and presses it against my clothed pussy.

Gemma lays a hand on her chest and gasps, "Oh gosh! Thank you!"

Harry gently massages my clit and It feels so good.

I don't even want to talk because I know the next sound out of my mouth will not be words.

"Now I really have to take you to the shops, y/n." Anne says with a smile, "I'm so happy for you both!"

"I'm so happy with her." Harry cuts in, his fingers still pushing circles, "I don't think I can find anyone better to put up with me."

I bite the inside of my lip and slowly push my hips forward. He smirks and pulls his hand away, "Y/N, can I see you for a moment?"

I set my glass down and nod. I look up at Anne and Gemma, "Excuse me." I get up and follow Harry into the hallway.

"What's up?"

He leans in and kisses me, gently pushing my back against the wall, "Do you want to tell them?" He kisses down my neck.

"Tell them what?" I bite my lip as his hands grip my hip.

"That we're trying to start a family?" He whispers kissing back to my lips, "They're already so excited about us getting married, I-"

"Yes."

His eyes light up, "Really?"

I nod and reach up to grab his chin, "There's going to be a lot of dirty sex for you." I whisper and smile up at him. He smirks and shakes his head, "How'd I get so lucky?"

I shrug, "I ask myself that everyday."

He grabs my hands and kisses my knuckles, "So when does the dirty sex start?"

——

Requests are accepted. Send me a message!

Part 3?????

[rewritale]

sam heughan, bisexual, trans male + he/him → isn’t that ivor mac fergus of dunbroch? i hear that they're merida from brave. i hear they’re 44. they seem to be audacious & passionate, but also juvenile & restless. their aesthetics include notching an arrow to make an impossible shot, a dirty traveling cloak and worn boots & riding horseback under the starry night sky.

BASIC

FULL NAME: Ivor mac Fergus of DunBroch NICKNAME(S): N/A AGE: 44 BIRTHDAY: December 2nd SPECIES: Human TALE: Brave ETHNICITY: White (Scottish) OCCUPATION: Adventurer / Prince of DunBroch GENDER & PRONOUNS: Transmale & he/him ORIENTATION: Bisexual

APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: Sam Heughan HEIGHT: 6’3’’ WEIGHT: 185 lbs HAIR COLOR: Red / Dirty Blonde EYE COLOR: Blue DOMINANT HAND: Ambidextrous SCARS: Callused hands and fingers; many battle scars including the one from being clawed by a bear; a thin, linear scar on his left cheek from an archery accident TATTOOS: The Clan DunBroch symbol (a sword with four circles) on his left chest; three entwined bears tattoo on his right shoulder PIERCINGS: N/A

RELATIONSHIPS

FATHER: King Fergus MOTHER: Queen Elinor SIBLINGS: Prince Harris, Hubert & Hamish (younger brothers) SPOUSE: N/A CHILDREN: N/A FAMILY: N/A

PERSONALITY

MBTI: ESFP ENNEAGRAM: Type 1w2 MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Good ELEMENT: Fire SIN: Wrath, Pride VIRTUE: Diligence, Kindness QUALITIES:  Audacious, Passionate, Righteous FLAWS: Headstrong, Juvenile, Restless FEAR(S): Making the wrong choice, being wrong, being corrupted and becoming evil INSPIRATION: Merida (Brave), Aloy (Horizon Series), Robin Hood (English folklore), Edgin Darvis (Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves), Green Arrow / Oliver Queen (DC Comics), Korra (Avatar: The Legend of Korra), Trevor Belmont (Castlevania (2017 TV series))

BIOGRAPHY

Ivor, the firstborn descendant of King Fergus, was named Merida at birth. As the princess of DunBroch, his destiny was decided for him even before he was born. He was betrothed to some boy he had never met before to strengthen the alliance between the clans. But he never wanted to be a princess, to be like his mother married to some king. He wanted to be… well, himself. He always felt wrong inside his own body except when he was out in the woods. Exploring, hunting, practicing archery instead of lessons after lessons about how to be a lady. He didn’t want to be a lady. If he had a choice, he wanted to be like his father, a mighty warrior who fought the demon bear Mor’du, the Bear King who protected his people.

Though his parents wanted him to get married as soon as he reached adulthood, Merida fought tooth and claw, competing for his own hand in marriage during Highland games, running away from home or going into hiding. At least when the triplets were born, the wee devils bought him some time by stirring up so much trouble at the castle and took some heat off of him. His parents never gave up, however, especially his mother. After one particularly terrible argument, he ran away into the woods again. Except this time, his fate manifested in the form of wisps and guided him to an old witch. The princess struck a deal with the witch, asking for a spell to change his fate. The witch gave him a cup of magical tea and a blueberry cake; the tea to turn him into a prince, and the cake to help him convince his mother if being a prince doesn’t work. Both spells worked like a charm. Merida was transformed into a prince, and the magic brought him and his mother closer. Eventually, at least, after shenanigans involving his mother turning into a bear and trying to undo that spell, his baby brothers accidentally eating the cake and becoming werebears from its side effect, trying to stop King Fergus from killing the queen… and all that.

That was only the beginning of the story, a prologue if you will. Merida, now going by as Ivor, felt responsible for what happened to his brothers. So the prince left the kingdom with the triplets to help them learn how to control their inner beasts. Once his brothers were old enough, he ventured out into the world traveling far and wide hoping to find a way to perhaps revert the spell on his brothers. A hero at heart, he was often stopped by those in need of helping hands, saving people, fighting off invaders and slaying monsters. But Ivor never stayed in one place for too long, always eager to move on and find a new place to explore.

But destiny called him back home again. Mor’du was wreaking havoc in DunBroch and the princes were summoned to help the kingdom deal with the Demon Bear once and for all. Ivor and his werebear brothers fought fiercely against Mor’du at a fated stone circle, and at the end of the battle, one of the stones fell on the Demon Bear. To everyone’s surprise, from underneath a man emerged. Crínán Na Tuaighe, the cursed prince of the lost kingdom. But at any rate, the terrifying reign of Mor’du was over and Ivor was happy to leave with his brothers again…

Except now that he is in his forties, his parents expect him to settle down and succeed the throne. To find a spouse, start a family and rule DunBroch. Though Ivor doesn’t want to, he is mature enough to understand his parents and reluctantly agree to consider settling down. Especially now that the portals opened between different realms, the new adventures are calling to him but he can’t go gallivanting like he used to.

POWER

Ivor is a master sharpshooter, a skilled warrior and seasoned adventurer. Though he does not possess any supernatural strength or (meaningful) magical abilities, his years of experience and training honed his combat skills to a superhuman level.

While he can wield most weapons with ease, bows and arrows are always his first choice of weapon. As an exceptional archer, he can take a shot while running and jumping, on horseback or even hanging upside down.

His aim with bows is impeccable which stems from his ability to predict the movement of the targets and the environment around him in a split second. He can measure the distance between one point to another accurately just by glancing, and calculate the speed of the moving target and how long it will take to reach a certain point.

His sense of sight and ability to process visual input are heightened and he can see anything from a great distance away with amazing clarity and details. Even when his sight is limited, he can sense threats or targets without needing to see them.

When in melee, Ivor prefers shortswords, short spears or daggers, and he is also skilled in hand-to-hand combat.

He is a veteran horseback rider, and is experienced with fighting on horseback.

While Ivor has no obvious magical gift, he is sensitive to the presence of spirits and possesses an uncanny insight as if he sees into people’s souls.

Wisps and other minor spirits are drawn to him, and sometimes guide him. He can communicate with them, gathering information or finding paths with their help.

His intuition is incredibly sharp and he often gets a read on people instinctively. This helps him in combat as well, allowing him to predict their movements more accurately.

He has an impeccable sense of direction and often finds his way to the destination without knowing how.

HEADCANON

“Mac Fergus” simply means “the son of Fergus” and his clan name is closer to his surname. So his name would be Ivor DunBroch.

Thanks to the magic potion he drank, his body has male genitalia.

His brothers were born when he was in his early 20s, and since he raised them after their departure from the kingdom, he sometimes acts more like a father to them than an older brother.

Ivor was taught how to play musical instruments and how to weave as a child, and studied literature and singing. Not that he is any good at those. But he enjoys weaving and knitting, since it is more tactile and useful.

Although he was taught the proper manners and etiquettes befit a prince, Ivor acts casual and informal enough that not many would assume he is a prince.

Ivor has no romantic bone in his body and he is often called dense and can’t pick up flirting. He is more interested in archery and horseback riding than sexual encounters.

A terrible cook. Thankfully Ivor is not a picky eater and he will eat anything.

[nycky-b]

Beneath the Stars

Warnings: angst, enemies/rivals to lovers, slow burn, no book and movie spoilers, setted in the half-blood prince and english isn't my first language.

Paring: Harry Potter x reader

Wordcount: 1.131

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Chapter 1

Your knuckles whitened as you gripped your wand, the dimly lit dungeon casting long shadows across your tense frame. Standing opposite you, Harry Potter—the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, and the bane of your existence—was looking at you with that infuriating mix of defiance and smugness you had come to associate with him.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Harry taunted, brushing dust off his robes, his lips quirking in a half-smile that made your blood boil.

You gritted your teeth. He always knew how to get under your skin. Since your first meeting in your fifth year—when you had bested him in a duel during a Defense Against the Dark Arts class—you had been at each other’s throats.

“Oh, don’t worry,” you snapped, your voice laced with venom. “I’ll do much better. Try not to fall flat on your face this time, Potter.”

Harry’s smirk deepened, his emerald eyes glinting in the flickering torchlight. “Big words for someone who couldn’t even block a simple Stunning Spell five minutes ago.”

You took a step closer, your boots clicking sharply against the stone floor. “That’s rich coming from you. Need I remind you who disarmed you in the last duel? Or have you conveniently erased that from your overinflated memory?”

Harry straightened, his wand spinning deftly between his fingers. “Ah, yes, your one lucky shot. Remind me—how long did it take for you to even get close again? Five, ten attempts?”

Your jaw tightened, your wand twitching in your grasp. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but you refused to let him see you flustered. Instead, you raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a sly smile.

“At least I don’t hide behind my fame when I mess up,” you said, your voice low and taunting. “Tell me, Potter, do you practice that sanctimonious tone, or does it come naturally?”

Harry’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly, stepping closer until you were mere feet apart. His shoulders squared, and his grip on his wand tightened. “I don’t need fame to back me up, L/N. I’ve got skill. Something you’re clearly still working on.”

You tilted your head, your hair falling over one shoulder as you studied him. Your gaze was sharp, your lips set in a defiant line. “Skill? Is that what you call it? Because from where I’m standing, all I see is someone who can’t handle competition.”

Harry’s brow furrowed, and for a moment, silence hung heavy between you, broken only by the faint dripping of water in the distance. His jaw clenched as he took another step forward, invading your space.

“And from where I’m standing,” he said quietly, his voice cutting through the air like a blade, “all I see is someone too stubborn to admit when they’re outmatched.”

The tension crackled like a live wire. Your breath hitched, but you refused to back down. You held your ground, your chin lifting defiantly.

“I’d rather be stubborn than complacent,” you shot back, your tone sharp enough to slice through steel. “Unlike you, I don’t rest on my laurels. I actually work for my victories.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, his chest rose and fell with steady breaths, but his composure was slipping, and you could see the flicker of frustration behind his confident facade.

“Careful, L/N,” he said, his voice dangerously low. “You might just provoke me into proving you wrong.”

Your lips twitched, a mocking smile dancing across your face. You leaned in slightly, your voice dropping to a whisper. “I'd like to see you try, Potter.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, your gazes locked. The silence between you felt deafening, broken only by the faint sound of your quickened breathing. Harry’s lips parted as if to speak, but no words came.

“Is this what you two call practicing?” came a sharp, incredulous voice from the doorway.

Both Harry and you turned your heads sharply to see Hermione standing there, her arms crossed and a look of exasperation etched across her face. Behind her, Ron peered in, eyebrows raised.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ron muttered, stepping into the room. “We come down here to make sure no one’s dead, and what do we find? You two glaring at each other like in a bloody eye contest.”

Hermione stepped closer, her gaze flicking between Harry and you. “Honestly, do either of you know how to de-escalate? Or is this just your default setting?”

“I wasn’t the one who started it,” you said, your wand lowering slightly but your tone still sharp. “Potter decided to lecture me on what constitutes ‘real skill.’”

Harry let out a short laugh, crossing his arms over his chest. “And you couldn’t resist making it about my so-called fame, could you? Some things never change.”

Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Some things, indeed,” she muttered. “Alright, enough. Whatever this is, sort it out without turning the dungeon into a war zone.”

“I thought it was sorted,” you quipped, shooting Harry a pointed look. “Unless he’s planning to lecture me some more?”

“Tempting,” Harry replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” Hermione interjected, throwing her hands in the air. “Do you even hear yourselves? You’re both impossible.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “I’ve been told worse.”

“Same here,” Harry added, his tone light but his eyes still locked on you.

Ron, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke up. “You know, I think I’ve figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” Harry and you asked simultaneously, both turning to him.

Ron grinned, his expression maddeningly smug. “You two don’t hate each other. You just like winding each other up because it’s easier than admitting you fancy each other.”

A stunned silence followed his words. Harry’s face turned an alarming shade of red, and you blinked, momentarily at a loss for words.

“That is ridiculous, Ron. Do you hear yourself?” you said quickly, your voice a little higher than usual.

“Completely absurd,” Harry muttered, looking anywhere but at you.

Ron shrugged, clearly pleased with himself. “If you say so.”

Hermione shook her head, muttering something about idiocy as she grabbed Ron by the arm. “Come on, Ron. Let’s leave them to their ‘practicing.’”

As the door closed behind them, Harry and you were left alone once more. The tension, though now tinged with embarrassment, remained.

“You know he’s wrong,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter but still firm, stepping toward the door.

“Absolutely,” Harry agreed, his ears still burning as he followed you out.

But even as you both left the room, neither of you could entirely shake the lingering warmth of Ron’s words.

[klarolinexluv]

Fics I’ve cried over

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Art Heist, Baby! by otrtbs

When James Potter answers a mysterious ad in his local coffee shop, the last thing he expects is to be thrown into a world of white collar crime, but how can he resist when the mastermind behind the operation has dark hair and brooding eyes and promises wealth beyond James' wildest imagination? He would do anything for that boy named after a star, including stealing millions of dollars of fine art.

Mature. 219,116 words. 38/38 chapters. Jegulus/Wolfstar

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Waiting for you (to find me) by georgia_sk

"If you ever lose me, if you ever need me, just wait on the swing, and I'll come and find you," says the older brother. "That's where I'll be waiting," says the younger brother. And here he is. Here they are. - Or the black brothers afterlife reunion one shot no one asked for but I wrote anyways x

General. 3,563 words. 1/1 chapters. Sirius&Regulus

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Mastermind by @pieceofchocolate

Regulus Black is the mastermind behind the Liberal party. Unfortunately, he’s never been very good at the more outgoing parts of politics – on a more fortunate note, he has his brother to act as a front figure. Sirius Black has always been the sweetheart of British politics, charming the voters with his wit and charisma. That was until James Potter came around, becoming party leader of his own party, the Leftists. Sirius would probably hate him, if they weren't such good friends. Regulus does not share this problem. Remus Lupin literally just needed a job, and got thrown into the mess of secrets, games and an upcoming parliamentary crisis. With an election around the corner, things are bound to go awry.

Mature. 360,712 words. 40/40 chapters. Jegulus/Wolfstar

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The Pure Blood Prince by pjxckson

He had always dreamed of dying beneath a big open sky. - When Regulus Black was dragged into the water by the Inferi, he found himself frozen in time but alive as the rest of the world moved on. What if Harry pulled him from the cave in the Half-Blood Prince and Regulus was finally given the chance to redeem himself?

Mature. 119,412 words. 32/32 chapters. Past Jegulus/Wolfstar

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Home In You by xchasingstarsx

About a young boy who had no idea that Home didn't have to be a place.. Home can be anything. And for Regulus Black Home is no other than James Potter. ------- “What are you doing?,” Regulus heard himself ask. Quietly, barely above a whisper. Scared to ruin whatever this was. He heard James let out a little chuckle. “Stargazing,” he said then. Voice like a gentle caress.

Explicit. 106,704 words. 10/10 chapters. Jegulus

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we'll float away, but if we fall (i only pray, don't fall away from me) by allthesetwistedshadows

Regulus Black didn't have anyone to turn to. Until, one night in the astronomy tower, he did.

Not Rated. 6,842 words. 2/2 chapters. Sirius&Regulus

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To lose you (means I had you in the first place) by hallyticket

“I’m dying,” Regulus breathes, like saying it more will make it feel more real. “I know,” James says, gently, treading carefully as he speaks like Regulus is the one that doesn’t know he’s dying.

Teen and Up. 3,591 words. 1/1 chapters. Jegulus

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The Green Fig Tree by Minttushka

In 2004, a grieving Draco Malfoy finds solace in an unexpected place. In 1976, Regulus Black’s life changes forever after a Quidditch game. In 1981, James Potter survives. The question left is if history will always repeat itself — and more importantly, if some endings can be rewritten.

Explicit. 223,323 words. 61/61 chapters. Jegulus/Drarry

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when facing the things we turn away from by moscovitz

“Was that your plan then?” James says, tone weirdly strangled as he looks at Regulus. “Kill the Dark Lord and then yourself?” Regulus wraps the towel around his shoulders tighter. “Yes.” ___ or, Regulus, ready for death, shows up to the Grimmauld Place after destroying the final Horcrux and meets James, his very, very angry ex boyfriend.

Explicit. 12,698 words. 3/3 chapters. Jegulus.

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Second born, second choice by moonliquor182

Regulus Black is very unhappy, and though he'd never admit it, he misses Sirius. His brother ran away at the start of the summer holidays and hasn't looked back. Regulus is the heir now and he isn't enjoying the new attention.

Not Rated. 4,116 words. 1/1 chapters. Sirius&Regulus

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[dramioneasks]

can u recommend some fics where draco is actually characterized as a teenage boy. defensive, petty, cowardly, snotty, constantly horny etc

Carnal Club - Ada_P_Rix - E, 3 chapters - The Halloween Ball is fast approaching with Hermione at the helm. … What a delightful time to suddenly learn of a centuries old secret sex-game club that is currently ran by a Blonde haired Slytherin. Oh, and it only happens once a year every October, when the winner takes all at the Halloween Ball … The First Rule of Carnal Club: You do not talk about Carnal Club.

Baker’s Dozen - DarkoftheMoon, Maria81 - T, one-shot - As part of the new and mandatory Muggle Studies curriculum, 8th year students are paired together for a year-long practicum in the culinary arts. If only Draco were interested in either.

mischief-makers (up to no good) - riddikulus_puff - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had been a couple since the beginning of their eighth year at Hogwarts but spilt up pretty quickly after leaving school because of pathetic arguments between the two of them. But their group of friends had enough of their constant complaining about missing the other person. So, that was how Hermione and Draco ended up forced to go on a road trip to the beaches of Cornwall with Blaise Zabini, Ginny Weasley, Harry Potter and Theodore Nott, with Pansy Parkinson and Neville Longbottom also joining them. It was like the plot from a crappy romantic comedy that Hermione had absorbed in the early weeks of her breakup. But, their friends had a plan. Project get Dramione back together! A one-shot for the 2023 Year of the OTP Fic Fest

Glass Footwear and Fanfare - StarsWithSoup - T, 7 chapters - Due to a Muggle studies project, Draco and Hermione are sent to the Room of Requirement to experience the fairytale Cinderella first-hand. Draco becomes Prince Draco Charming Malfoy (yes, his middle name is Charming) and is sent off to the royal palace whilst Hermione becomes a lowly maid for the Parkinson family. Or, Hermione and Draco are stuck in the world of Cinderella until they complete the tale.

Good Vibes By: NeverNik - M, 3 chapters - Hermione transfigured her wand into a vibrator, but she can’t transfigure it back without the help of another wand. It would be beyond humiliating to ask anyone for help. What is she going to do? She’d been without her wand all day now, and a certain Slytherin someone is a bit too observant for his own good… Just a smutty story, really.

Innocent Monsters - itscometothis - T, 12 chapters - Draco Malfoy thought he had reasonable expectations for his mandatory Eighth Year at Hogwarts, where he would be confined to the grounds as part of his probation. Isolation, hatred, and passing his NEWTs were really all he had in mind. What he wasn’t anticipating: 1) Having a small firstie latch onto him like a bloody koala 2) Said firstie adopting an erkling as if they didn’t feed on children. To protect his little nuisance, he’ll have to seek help from uncomfortable places, including the Swottiest Witch of Her Age. Joy of all joys.

-Lisa