#rwrb x y/n

[soulofapatrick]

Secret's Out - Henry Fox x Male Reader

Summary: Henry comes to visit you at the Lake House to take a break from studying

Words: 1.8k 

Warnings: None really, heavy making out

Notes: I have one more Henry story in the works then an Alex one

Y/N’s POV

The summer sun bathes everything in a warm, golden glow as I sit by the window of the lake house, my heart beating a little faster with each passing moment. This place has become my refuge for the past few months, a quiet haven where I’ve immersed myself in my studies, allowing me to escape the world and focus. 

My heart and mind have been a whirlwind of emotions ever since I realised just how strong my feelings for Prince Henry were and how Henry wasn’t ready to tell the world. He wasn’t ready to share our relationship with the world, and even though it ached inside, I had agreed to wait patiently. Love is not about rushing someone; it’s about giving them the time they need to find their own comfort. 

A soft knock on the door rouses me from my thought, and I find Alex, my older brother standing there with a knowing smile. He’s been my confidant throughout this journey,, the one who’s listened to my heartache and dreams. 

“Hey Mouse,” Alex Alex's mischievous grin is enough to make my insides twist with a combination of nervousness and excitement. The nickname has stuck with me since childhood, a playful jab at my somewhat introverted nature. But today, hearing it from Alex feels different, almost like he knows something that I don't. "Ready for some company?”

“Company?” I respond, my attempt at casualness belying the fluttering nerves that seem to have taken residence in my stomach. My heart beats a little faster, and I wonder what Alex is up to this time. 

As I watch him step into the room, his vibrant energy filling the space, I can't help but wonder what my wild-child of a brother has in store for me today. Alex has been persistent in his efforts to drag me away from my books and studies, insisting that I need a break. Little does he know, this very house is where I feel closest to Henry, where I yearn for him the most, as it became our secret sanctuary a few months ago.

“I have a surprise for you.” Alex announces, his grin growing even wider. I raise an eyebrow at him, my curiosity fully engaged now. 

“A surprise?” I I echo, the corners of my lips tugging into a reluctant smile.

“Close your eyes.” He instructs, and although a part of me screams to hold onto my reservations, I comply. I shut my eyes tightly, letting my other senses take over. The rustling of fabric and the faint sound of footsteps gradually diminish as Alex seemingly exits the room. 

My world becomes a canvas of darkness, and my ears become hyper-aware of every little sound around me. There’s a quiet hush in the room, the kind of silence that’s laden with anticipation. I can almost sense the air shifting as Alex’s energetic presence departs. The room growing still, almost expectant, until a new set of footsteps grace the floorboards. These are softer, more measured, yet they send my heart into a frenzy. They’re familiar, like a melody that’s been etched into my memory. They’re the kind of footsteps that I’ve been longing to hear for four months - Henry’s footsteps. 

My heart skips a beat, and a rush of emotions floods through me. The surprise Alex had promised is becoming clearer, and my pulse quickens with every delicate football that draws nearer. It’s as if the distance between us is shrinking, and in this cocoon of darkness, I can feel him coming closer to me.  The soft steps seem to echo in the silence, a rhythm that syncs with the thrumming of my heart. They’re cautious yet purposeful, as if he's taking his time, just like he always does. I hold my breath, my body tensing with anticipation. The darkness behind my closed eyes feels heavy, but his presence in the room is almost tangible

And then, it happens. 

His presence envelopes me like a warm embrace, and the world outside of this room fades into obscurity. I sense his closeness, his warmth, and then I feel his breath, sweet and familiar, brushing lightly against my lips. Time itself seeming to hold its breath as our lips meet, and it’s as if every moment of separation melts away. His kiss is gentle but filled with a longing that matches my own, a testament to the months we’ve spent apart. 

His hands find their place on my face, cupping my cheeks tenderly, guiding me to my feet as if I were a delicate treasure he’s been yearning to hold. It’s a sensation that’s both electrifying and soothing, like coming home after a long and arduous journey. My lips parting slightly beneath his, welcoming him with an intensity that mirrors the love we share. It’s a kiss that speaks volumes, whispering promises of the moments we’ve missed and those yet to come. There’s a sense of completeness, of being in the arms of the one person who truly understands me. 

As our lips linger in that tender, perfect moment, I feel like I’m floating in a sea of emotions. It’s a kiss that defies the bounds of time and space, a kiss that shakes off all the stress and anxiety from studying. 

But then, with a gentle and lingering touch, Henry breaks the kiss. His lips part from mine, but his thumb continues to stroke my cheek, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. He looks at me with bright blue eyes, glistening with affection and longing, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

“Hey,” he greets me quietly, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile, scared moment we’ve created. 

“Hey,” I respond, my voice barely above a whisper matching the intimacy of the moment. There’s no need for grand declarations or elaborate words. He’s here, standing in front of me, and that’s all I need right now. 

Without a second thought, I stumble forward, closing the gap between us and wrapping my arms around him. I rest my head on his shoulder, finding solace in the familiar scent of his cologne, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the sensation of being enveloped in his warmth. Henry’s fingers gently card through my hair, a soothing gesture that sends ripples of comfort down my spine. It’s as if he’s trying to convey all the words he can’t express in this moment through the gentle caress of his touch. 

In a hushed murmur, he whispers soothing words, his voice a melody that dances through my ears, “I’ve missed you so much sweetheart.” He murmurs, lips brushing against my ear, sending shivers down my spine, “I love you, more than words can say. I’m so proud of you.” His words hold an intimacy that goes beyond mere declaration of love, a connection that has thrived despite the challenges and secrets that have defined our relationship. 

Before I can respond, henry’s lips find mine once more. And the world narrows down to the sweet sensation of our mouths meeting. His lips move against mine with a gentle urgency, as if trying to convey all the emotions he’s held inside during the distance between us. His hands are on my hips, guiding me backwards until my back hits the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat and intensity of the kiss. It’s a welcomed juxtaposition, grounding me in the reality of this moment, where the cool surface supports me as henry’s body presses firmly against mine. 

His lean, muscular form moulds against my own, and every point of contact sends electric shocks through me. I can feel the powerful rhythm of his heart, the warmth of his skin, and the strength of his embrace. It’s as if our bodies are trying to memories every curve and contour, as if they’re saying ‘this is how you fit with me, this is how we belong together.’

Henry’s hands roam my body with a touch that’s both tender and possessive. They glide over my waist, up my back and down to my hips, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. A strangled sound is swallowed when he rocks my hips forwards, erections rubbing in a delicious friction as he murmurs against my skin, “Fuck me Darling, I’ve missed you.” 

His lips leave mine in a slow, tantalising descent, trailing down my neck, one of his hands finding it’s way to my unruly locks and tugging almost painful to expose my neck. The sensation is almost painful, but the intensity of the desire that courses through me is undeniable. I arch my neck even further, silently inviting him to leave his mark, to claim me in this secret moment. 

His lips make contact, and the world seems to spin as a combination of pleasure and yearning courses through me. Henry’s lips are both soft and demanding, creating a sensation that’s nearly maddening. The pressure of his kiss sends a shiver down my spine, and I can feel the heat building between us, a wildfire of longing. His lips lingering for a moment, leaving a mark, a hickey, a visible testament of our stolen passion. 

And then, with a hunger that matches my own, he draws me back into a heated kiss, our mouths colliding almost bruisingly. His tongue brushes against my lips, seeking entrance, and I part them willingly, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Our tongues engage in a fierce, passionate battle for dominance, each of us seeking to convey the depth of our desire. It’s a dance of raw, unbridled need, a silent proclamation that nothing and no one can come between us.  

Except my Dad. Who is standing in the doorway, grin like a Cheshire Cat, one hand raised to knock. Henry breaks away from me in surprise despite Dad’s presence calm and unbothered, while I try to flatten down my wild hair. I must look like more of a mess than Henry who’s plump lips are kiss-swollen, hair wild, cheeks flushed and eyes dark with love and lust. If Dad wasn’t watching us I think I would jump Henry right here and now. 

“Well,” Dad clears his throat, shaking his head fondly, “Alex and Bea have already made it halfway through the food, I’d hurry up if I were you.” He chuckles, eyes twinkling with amusement, “You can continue this romantic reunion later.” 

“You’re not mad?” I find myself asking, heart almost pounding out of my chest. 

“Of course not Mouse,” Dad’s grin softens into a loving smile, “He’s a good one, don’t lose him.” 

And with that, Dad turns and leave the room, leaving me and Henry to stare at each other, processing what dad’s said. 

“I fucking love you.” I grin at Henry, watching the way his shoulders slump with relief.

“I love fucking you.”

“Henry!”

He runs off giggling and I can't help but follow, shaking my head with a fond smile.

-------------

Red White and Royal Blue Masterlist

New Tag List Form

TAGS: @clarks-letterman @spencer-reids-wife

[starboye]

pairing: prince henry x male reader

request: hey if you have room for a red, white and royal blue fic. Could you do a henery x male reader who is a photographer and is hired to take pictures for the royal family because Henry has s fat crush on him

warnings: none

it was really nice working for the royal family, they had good hospitality, and were incredibly nice, plus the pay was amazing so it would have been insane to not take a photography job from them, all you had to do was snap a couple pictures of their beloved and sometimes stuck up child prince henry.

it was a little bit of a challenge navigating the castle but you did end upo finding the place you were supposed to take the photos at, you set up your gear and camera and just as you finished henry walked in "oh hi mr henry i was just putting the last touches on everything" you say with a smile standing up straight to shake his hand, henry stood there dumbfounded by your good looks "sir" you chuckle.

he snaps back to reality and shakes your hand firmly, maybe a little to firmly as you had to pull your hand out of his tight grip "sorry just a little nervous" he nervously chuckles obviously awkward "oh, well nothing to be scared of just gotta take some quick pictures" you reassure sweetly.

"okay" he calms down a little "alright so stand right there on the little x and then do a nice pose" you say fixing the camera to look at him, he poses and you take a couple pictures before leaning up to examine them "are they good" henry asks "not really you just look a little to tense" you reply.

an idea pops in your head right then "lets do some silly poses to lighten the mood' you say "really" henry says not amused by the idea "yes really it'll work" you say setting the camera back down and aligning it with henry "do something like this" you say doing a crazy pose that makes henry laugh and after some hesitation he agrees and does it.

you laugh at the boys silly pose which makes him burst out laughing "okay okay now lets take these pictures" you say still chuckling lightly before snapping some pictures of henry in a more calmed and laid back state "perfect" you say turning the camera to show henry the pictures to which he agrees with you.

as you're admiring the photos to make sure they're all good henry quickly glance at your face, the way it looks,how soft your hair must feel, and your lips oh. my. god. he wanted to kiss you so bad but refrained from doing so, he turned his gaze away as you turn to look up at him "so i guess we're done here" henry questions.

"yeah i think thats pretty much it" you say before packing up your stuff and putting them into their bags, henry standing there fiddling with his cuff links nervously wanting to ask you out but not having the courage "your pictures should in the mail by tomorrow" you say as you head towards the door.

"wait" henry blurts out "yes"you question turning around "what if i come by your place and pick them up myself" henry shyly says "oh yeah sure" you agree "and maybe after we can get dinner" he adds "are you asking me on a date" you ask walking closer to henry "yeah i guess i am" henry says before you kiss him on the cheek "well then its a date" you smile before walking out, henry could feel his face heat up as he blushed and thought of the date tomorrow

[henryrussell63]

Red, white and royal blue, the prince of Monaco

[msmarvelouswinchester]

If We Love Again

Summary: Whatever problems we had back then don’t exist anymore. It’s why we have this second chance, and we can’t throw it away. -Michelle Maddow

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Y/N (Reader)

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader

WC: 1942

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Post-canon where DEAN IS ALIVE, kinda sappy, body-shaming (not by the boys), hugs and kisses

Square Filled: Your hands are tough, but they are where mine belong ( @taylorswiftbingo )

A/N: Alright. Alright. Hello you people! Jfc, how long has it been? A lot of things happened (personal matters and fandom problems too) so I took a break. Kind of gave up writing for a bit. Then two boys - Alex and Henry (RWRB fandom, I'm looking at you) got me back to writing! And of course I had to write for my baby, Dean Winchester!

And I've also lost my taglist. So sorry for not tagging anyone in this.

Completely unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.

“What’re you doing here?” The usual routine of the bunker had been thrown off-kilter when Y/N had appeared, looking…frazzled. Maybe a tad smile but her eyes shone with unshed tears. And she was drenched to the bones and panting like she had run a mile to get to the bunker. The man welcomed her inside, saying, “Come in first, you are fucking wet.”

The words slipped and the man’s eyes widened, expecting a snobbish remark from her about the word and its placement in the sentence but soon enough, he frowned because Y/N didn't comment on the…apparent opportunity of turning the entire conversation inappropriate. Like she always did. But today, she wordlessly accepted the man’s gratuitous welcome and headed inside the old establishment.

Once at the end of the stairs, she said, rather whispered, “Hey Dean. Can you do me a favour? I need a hug.” If Dean didn't know what heaven looked like, he would have guessed he had ascended to heaven at Y/N’s request.

Dean, who had sprinted down the steps, looked at her and nodded, opening his arms. Y/N stepped into the hug and wrapped her arms around his torso, hands finding the nape of his neck. Dean’s hands had also instantly found their shelter around her body. They stayed in the position for a while. Y/N inhaled deeply quite a few times. The unforgettable scent of cinnamon and gunpowder hitting her and she let the tears fall as she let her guard down for the first time that night and Dean’s hold around her tightened. The sobs that left her, wrecked his heart. Each wail was like a dagger to his chest. He hated seeing her sad. He rested his chin on the top of her head, the familiar smell of her shampoo gave him whiplash as the memories of…everything queued up inside his head. But he still didn't know what had prompted her to show up at her place. “Y/N, sweetheart, can you look at me? I need you to look at me,” Dean murmured, “please.”

His voice washed over her and the sobbing turned into sniffles. She sniffled against the now wet, snot-covered spot on Dean’s tshirt before her red-rimmed, puffy eyes found his worried green ones. “‘M sorry,” she whimpered.

“Hey, shh, what're you sorry for? For ruining my shirt? Oh, I'll just bribe Sammy to do the laundry,” Dean grinned but the worry never left his eyes.

“I just—Dean, I'm sorry for…s-showing up tonight unannounced…I shouldn't have…what was I even thinkin’? Dean, I’ll—uh…see myself out.” Y/N said, and fidgeted in Dean’s grip but he was reluctant to let go. Not when she had just shown up a few minutes ago and broke down in his arms.

Dean said, “Stop, Y/N. Stop. It's alright. That's what best friends are for.” Nope, not letting you go this time.

“But…” Did you forget the part where we dated and broke up and vowed to never see each other again because it would break our hearts even more?

“No buts,” Dean said, as if he could read the thoughts in her head, “Whatever happened…happened. You were my best friend and you still are. If you need me, in a heartbeat, I'll be there for you. Do you understand that?” He glanced up, Jack if this is your doin’ because I pretty much dreamed about second chances last night then thanks, buddy.

Y/N nodded.

“Now let's go sit down. I'm gonna go find Sam and let him know you're here. And then we can go and kick some asses.” Dean gently guided her to his room in the bunker and sat her down on his bed, asking if she needed anything to drink, water or beer or anything to eat, knowing all they had was pie and a greasy two-days old burger in the freezer. They really needed to stock up their fridge more now they have started to live normal lives.

Y/N, though just asked for water.

Dean winked and said he would be back in a minute. And he was, with Sam in tow who had scooped her up in a giant hug. Oh, she had missed them.

“Hi, Sam. You look…different.” Y/N giggled at Sam in his formal clothes instead of the layers of plaid she was used to seeing on him. She had heard that the Winchesters had retired from hunting but seeing them bask in their post-retirement glory was astonishing.

“Yeah, had a makeover sorta, got myself a job and everything—”

“And a girlfriend,” Dean wiggled his brows and his brother blushed furiously. In between the conversation, Dean had handed Y/N a glass of water and sat down beside her on the bed.

She sipped on the water and hummed thoughtfully, “Who would have thought? Our little Sammy, all grown up!”

And for the first since her alarmingly sudden visit to the bunker, Y/N smiled.

“Oh shut up. Enough about me. Dean said something to me about kicking someone's asses. Do we have to bring out our hunting gear?” Y/N’s eyes widened at the question.

“No! Jesus, no guns. And no violence.” She warned the Winchesters.

“Can’t promise on the violence part, sweetheart!” Dean smirked. “So what happened?”

“Honestly. I think I'm good. It was a moment of…sadness but I'm oka—”

Dean cut her off, saying, “Y/N you were wailing. That was not nothing. Come on, tell us, we swear we'll be good.”

Y/N hesitated and Sam decided to put her out of her misery, “Whatever Dean says, if you don't feel comfortable in telling us. Don't tell.”

“Oh…” Dean sighed, “Yeah, I…I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You seriously don't have to tell us, if you're not up for it.”

“It's just not that,” she swallowed hard. It should be easy to tell them, right? They were her best friends. She took a deep breath and said, “The guy, I am…or rather was dating—” She felt Dean tense up beside her and Sam side-eyed his brother but she continued “-well, he was an asshole. A dickhead. A fucking son of a bitch.”

Sam chuckled. “That's quite a description.”

“Yeah. So I applied for this job in NYC and well…I got it—” her heart soared in her chest as she watched the brothers’ faces split into a huge grin “-but this moron of my ex-boyfriend decided to throw my insecurities to my face because he didn't want me to go to NYC.”

Now looking back, Y/N didn't know why she was sad. She was angry. No, she was pissed because how dare a pathetic little man order her around about whether or not she should work in New York. “He was worried that I wasn't too pretty for the NYC girls, that I was too soft to survive in a big city like New York—”

This time Dean chuckled. Because Y/N wasn't soft, she was a hunter. Born into a hunter family only to give it all up because she wanted a quieter life. But she knew how to fight, how to wield a gun. And she was pretty. Too pretty and even after four years of breaking up, Dean’s heart still skipped a beat when she called his name, looked at his face and he was still enamoured by her very existence.

“So I told him that I would leave his sorry ass,” Y/N’s lips trembled, “and he said it was going to be the best thing because I wasn't worth enough for him to fight for because I…I am ‘too much’ and I…I don't put an effort into being the woman a man wants, no…needs. And in that moment, I got so sad, I needed to see you. Because I missed you guys so much. I missed this where no one judged me or at least didn't use to until…well, I…yeah. So, this is how I showed up here.”

“You're always welcome here, Y/N. And I'm sorry, things haven't been…good for a few years but don't think for a second we will judge you or not let you back into our lives,” Dean’s hands had snaked back around her waist, pulling her closer while she continued, “Well, he was kinda right. Don't you think? I talk too much. Sometimes I go on a ramble. I don't watch my diet—”

“That son of a bitch body-shamed you?” Dean was seething.

“Yeah. And he said, I was too much of a work to stay with. I have always been told that I'm too much of a work but it still hurts—”

Dean said, “Well the guy is an idiot. You aren't too much of a work, sweetheart.”

Y/N, this ain't gonna work. You want me. I want you but you don't want this hunting life while THIS hunting is my life. This relationship is going to be so much of a work and with Cain on the loose, I don't think I can put that much effort in this. Y/N gave Dean a soft smile, “I don't want to bring up old memories but you also said that, pretty much four years back.”

Sam’s mouth fell open. “What the hell, Dean?”

“W-I? I was under the influence of the mark, Y/N and you knew it. I pushed away so many people. Letting you go was my biggest mistake. And I regret it because I still fucking love yo—” Dean’s mouth snapped shut.

And for the second time, Sam exclaimed, “What the hell, Dean?”

“Yo–love…what?” Y/N whispered.

Dean turned towards his brother, “Sammy.”

“Yeah.” Sam quickly stepped out of the room.

“Y/N. Letting you go was my biggest mistake and never calling you up was my biggest regret. I should have called because I still need you. And now I have this life. You know I start a new job next week? It's a construction but yeah. And it got me thinkin’ about you. Yeah. I was thinking how I fucked us over and never got to tell you the truth. I never got over us, you. I…I never wanted you to go—”

“I remember very clearly you throwing me out of the bunker and telling me never to contact you again. You know what, showing up tonight was my bigges—”

“Son of a bitch, I can't believe I'm fucking doin’ this,” Dean murmured.

“Wha–” The rest of the question turned into a squeak and Dean’s lips crashed into her. And then the thoughts crashed into him. Fuck.

Dean immediately jumped back from her. “I'm so sor—”

“If you dare to say sorry for this, I am telling Sammy to shoot you in your dick, asshole,” Y/N panted, “Fucking come, kiss me, you moron!”

“You sure? You just had a breakup and…”

Y/N looked at Dean, “I know. But Dean, I had kept loving you all along and maybe by some, heaven’s grace—”

“Jack’s grace.”

“Who’s Jack?”

“God. Well, new God. Jack had been living with us…its a long story for another time.”

“Yeah so, by Jack’s grace, maybe it's my second chance at being with you. Loving you.” Dean’s breath hitched at her words, “Your hands are tough, but they are where mine belong.”

So he walked up to her, and pulled her into a loving kiss. It was soft, eager and…just like old times.

They separated but their foreheads touched as they panted for air. “Second chance?” Dean asked

Y/N nodded, “Second chance.”

He smiled, “This time I'll leave no stones unturned to make this work. Because Y/N, sweetheart, you are worth everything.”

Oh boy, I'm kinda rusty XD

Let me know your thoughts! Comments are highly appreciated!

[supercap2319]

I absolutely love your RWRB x Pokémon crossovers! What would you think of one where Alex, Henry, and the reader watch their Pokémon interact with each other?

It was times like these that were rare. That Henry had no royal responsibilities for the day. That Alex could take a break from school and work on his mother's campaign. And Y/N could finally relax now that the Grand Festival was behind him.

The three of them took a stroll towards the gardens of the castle as an idea came to Y/N. "Can I ask what your guy's first Pokemon?"

Alex and Henry looked at him before they smiled. "Of course. My first Pokemon was given to me by my dad on my tenth birthday." Alex removed a pokeball from his belt loop, and pressed the center button as it expanded and he threw it up in the air as a Blaziken appeared. It's flaming fist hot and fierce.

"Wow, that's so awesome." Y/N smiled. It was obvious that Alex had raised it very well.

Henry scoffed. "That's nothing." He summoned his own Pokemon from his coat pocket and it appeared to be an Empoleon. Tall and sharp as a sword.

"That's very impressive. My first Pokemon was a Chikorita." Y/N let out the grass dinosaur Pokemon as it looked up at the more intimidating starters. It didn't back down. "As you can see. It's a spitfire."

They nodded as Alex called out his Gengar and Lycanroc (Midday form). And Henry summoned his Togekiss and Sirfetch'd.

All three boys watched as the Pokemon jumped and played with each other as Y/N let out his Glaceon and Fuecoco to join in the fun.

[whorekneecentral]

So after watching ‘Red White and Royal Blue’ earlier, I’m now having Mark x driver!reader thoughts (ik ik I’ve probably sent quite a few and I’m so sorry for clogging up ur inbox but i promise this is the last one😅)

Basically, Mark x driver!reader based on this scene from RWRB

(here’s the GIF for reference: https://www.tumblr.com/phakphumm/725559270367756288/red-white-royal-blue-disaster-gays)

Imagine this is a pre-race quickie and David walks on them and they very quickly break apart and pretend they weren’t doing anything😅

- Nando Anon

im vibing with this // inspo

you and mark had been hidden away in your driver's room, his hands wandering all over you. the race ended two hours ago and you were supposed to be meeting david for dinner.

"we have to go," you whispered to him, mark's lips on your neck as he mumbled something back as an answer.

"just now," he whispers in your skin. his hand skips down the front of your shorts. your head tips back, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to keep yourself quiet.

mark smiles to himself, about to get down onto his knees when the footsteps stop outside your room.

the door knob turns and you shove mark off of you. he sits on the couch, clearing his throat as you turn to fix your shorts and then your hair in the mirror.

david sticks his head in the doorway, "you ready?"

"yeah, come in." you smiled, david pushes the door open more to see mark there and his brows furrow, "oh hi mark, what are you doing here?"

"waiting on y/n, just like you."

david makes a face, unable to hold back his laughter; "yeah okay, your pants say otherwise."

[christmassavestheyear]

hullo

i'm akeyla, a pansexual nonbinary (they/them) with a constant feeling of social injustice and a slight addiction to ao3

doesanyonehearrunningwotah is my ao3, on which i'm chronically online

i'm a teenager so please behave yourselves fgs

will be reblogging anything that satisfies my 1d obsession adoration and posting excerpts/updates on my fanfictions so

my pinterest is @akeylaaaaa

ISTP-T

Australian Central (GMT+10:30)

masterlists below the cut :)

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fandoms

one direction/solo

hamilton

rwrb

noah kahan

marauders (not hp. m a r a u d e r s.)

sabrina carpenter

conan gray

olivia rodrigo

5sos

billie eilish + finneas

taylor swift

ed sheeran

we three

morgan wallen

kelsea ballerini

doctor who

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tags:

#alex my love❤ - all conversations with or about my brilliant partner #bloggy stuff - blog stuff #rebloggy stuff - reblog stuff #ask answered - asks #masterpost - this post, and all ficfest, challenge, etc. masterposts #personal - personal stuff

all other tags are a given (taylor swift, one direction) and used erratically and unusually, so.

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masterposts:

2023/24 writing schedule

Whumptober Masterpost

Whumpuary Masterpost

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complete original pieces:

none yet. watch this space.

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original WIPs:

letters from my bedroom floor (ongoing poetry compilation)

more soon. watch this space.

--- complete fanfictions:

underneath the mistletoe (larry stylinson christmas au)

tear away my tattoos (larry stylinson break-up au)

just for a moment (larry stylinson break-up au)

grey hairs (larry stylinson old age au)

greatest fear (larry stylinson 1D reunion au)

hold on (larry stylinson multichap mental health au)

orange juice (larry stylinson multichap break-up au)

gone (louis centric multichap zayn's death au)

whumptober 2023 collection- masterpost here.

--- fanfiction WIPs/upcoming

WRITING SCHEDULE 2023/24

caffeine factor (ziam mayne, hurt-but-mostly-comfort coffee shop au) (multichap, some chapters published)

words hurt (larry stylinson hurt-comfort high school au) (multichap, upcoming)

it’s time to go (larry stylinson, hurt-with-a-little-comfort au) (multichap, upcoming) (will rename)

haven't you ever been in love before (larry stylinson hurt-comfort uni au) (multichap, upcoming)

meet you in the future (larry stylinson fantasy/sci-fi au) (multichap, upcoming)

eccedentesiast (larry stylinson hurt-comfort au) (one-shot, upcoming)

if we never met (larry stylinson fight au) (one shot, upcoming)

come back (larry stylinson multichap mental health au) (sequel to hold on) (upcoming)

grief unites (larry stylinson hurt-comfort au) (multichap, upcoming) (probably will rename)

dream (larry stylinson solo louis angsty au) (multichap, upcoming) (will rename)

love is an open door (larry stylinson-family fluff) (one shot, upcoming)

2011 (larry stylinson hurt-comfort au) (one shot, upcoming)

---

writing request masterlist

i write mostly romance, heavy on the angst, but i'm pretty open to anything, just read through this first <3

i won't write non-con, it's just a huge no. i won't write romanticized abuse, incest or p3d0ph1lia either - including teacher-student relationships, step siblings, or those weird fics where the twins are in a poly relationship with a third party?? like no you sick fcks oml. or those overromanticised fics where they have feelings for each other as kids??? nopity nope. children. don't. have. romantic. relationships. i shouldn't even have to say it. anything below secondary is just no.

i don't write omegaverse, you do you but it's a no from me. i don't write y/n or x reader fics, just not my vibe.

oh i also don't write fanfictions where the larry stunts (danielle, eleanor, taylor, caroline, kendall, whoever it may be) are like, villains? no thank you.

(also side note caroline flack didn't do anything illegal or wrong, even if you think it's kinda gross. the age of consent in both the UK and most of the US is 16 therefore harry was legally able to consent and she was not responsible for anything you frown upon in that whole situation.)

--- asks

ask whatever, just be respectful. or don't. anon hate is fun to debate tbh.

---

as for this entire thing; i may have copied it from my brilliant partner and my writing inspiration - @youreverydaydemikid

speaking of which, if you see the tag "alex my love❤" that means its me talking to or about said partner!!

[ginerva-mollyweasley]

get to know me better

thanks @joerooty for tagging me <3

rules: tag people u wanna know more about

relationship status: taken (boyfriend)

favourite colour: mustard yellow & burgundy

3 favourite foods: pesto pasta, chocolate digestives, falafel wrap

song stuck in my head: the way i loved u by taylor swift & the soilder, poet and king song

last google: molecular structure of sulphuric acid (boring i know)

last song: would that i by hozier

time: 5:23pm

i want… abigail cowen to play lily bloom, the rwrb film and to understand transforming graphs (x & y axis, opposite/expected - i don’t get it)

i’m gonna tag @johnstonesblog @southside-serpent-bae @s-n-o-w-p-i-e-r-c-e-r @leadingrebel @aceflyboys <3

no pressure btw

[soulofapatrick]

Kiss and Tell - Alex Claremont-Diaz x Male Reader

Summary: You and Alex accidentally out your relationship at an international jumping competition

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: heavy make out; being outed

Notes: How are his eyelashes so pretty?! I mean how is he so pretty altogether! And Nick too!

Y/N’s POV

As the sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the sprawling English countryside, I can feel the familiar excitement coursing through my veins. It’s the day of the international equestrian jump competition, where I’ll proudly represent the royal family. The rhythmic sound of hooves against the earth and the fluttering of the Union Jack flags in the breeze create a thrilling atmosphere. 

Dressed in my crisp riding attire, I lead my stallion, Indiana Jones, towards the starting point. The adrenaline pumps through me as we approach course of jumps, each one more challenging than the last. 

As I focus on the course ahead, I can’t help but glance at the crowd. Amongst the sea of spectators, I spot familiar faces of my fellow competitors, all dressed in their nation’s colours. But there’s one face that stands out, a face that instantly captures my attention. There, sitting in the VIP section with Henry and Bea, is Alex Claremont-Diaz, the First Son of the United States. He’s a vision in his perfect tailored suit, his dark hair is impeccably styled, and his eyes sparkle with excitement as he watches the competition unfold. 

For a moment, the world around me fades away as our eyes lock.The intensity of his gaze sends shivers down my spine, and I’m momentarily mesmerised by his presence. It’s as if time stands still as I watch hi, his enthusiasm for the sport and the event itself evident in every expression, despite him not knowing anything about it at all. 

As Indiana and I approach the first jump, I can feel Alex’s support from the sidelines, a silent but powerful encouragement that pushes me to do my best. With a deep breath, I guide Indiana over the first hurdle, feeling the rush of exhilaration as we soar through the air. The competition continues and I can’t help but steal glances at Alex, sitting in the royal box with Henry, Bea and June. His presence is a source of motivation, and with each jump I clear, I’m not just competeing for myself and my country but also to impress him. 

The jumps come and go, each one presenting its own unique challenge, but Indiana and I handle them with grace and precision. The crowd cheers bled into a distant hum as I focus on the task at hand. It’s a demanding course, but the thrill of the competition pushes me forwards, having always felt freer on a horse than anywhere else in the royal palaces. 

Finally, as the last jump is cleared, and I cross the finish line to the thunderous applause of the crowd, a sense of triumph washes over me. I’ve given it my all, and it’s a moment I’ll cherish forever.  But, my heart drops when I don’t see Alex in the crowd anymore. 

As I ride Indiana out of the arena, a mix of emotions well up inside me. Disappointment tinges my victory as I wonder if I missed my chance to share this moment with him. However, just when I least expect it, I spot Alex leaning against the horse box, a dreamy smile on his face. My heart leaps with joy as I rein Indiana to a halt. 

With a gentle pat on Indiana’s neck to reassure her, I prepare to dismount, but before I can swing my leg over her back, Alex steps forwards. “Let me help you down.” He offers, voice soft and inviting. My heart pounds in my chest but nod, my heart races as he approaches. Alex’s large, capable hands find their way to my hips, and with a graceful movement, he lifts me down from the saddle. His touch is firm yet gentle, and I can feel the warmth of his body pressed against my back. 

Once I’m securely on the ground, I turn to face him, our proximity now closer than ever. His dreamy smile has transformed into something more intense, a longing that mirrors the desire in my own eyes. I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart, and begin to loosen the girth on Indiana’s saddle, the leather creaking softly under my touch. Alex watches me with a quiet intensity, his presence a magnetic force that draws us closer together. 

“You look so good in those.” He squeezes my hip, breath hot against my neck and way too close for anything innocent to be assumed. 

Suddenly, the click and flash of cameras intrude upon our private moment. The paparazzi have found me, eager to capture me post competition and even more so now that Alex is standing so close to me that there is no plausible explanation other than intimate. Alex’s hands leave my hips, and we both step away, allowing the stable boy to approach and take Indiana from me to cool him down and getting him untacked. 

With a glance exchanged between us, Alex and I wordlessly agree to disappear from the prying lenses of the paparazzi. He looks behind his shoulder before offering me his arm with a grin, I do the same, glancing back at the paparazzi who are mostly obscured before I loop my arm with his, letting him lead me away. 

We navigate through the bustling crowds, our steps quick and determined. The intensity of the situation electrifies the air around us. The desire for privacy and the magnetic pull between is intensifies with each step we take, both of us needing something more than just our arms locked. 

Soon enough, we find a small, windowless room tucked away from he public eye. Without hesitation, Alex tugs me inside, and with a swift motion, he slams the door behind us. I can feel the thud resonate through the wooden door as he presses me against it, his body covering mine and my hands pinned above my head. The sudden closeness between us sends a rush of heat through my veins. Our hearts been in unison, and our breaths come fast and shallow. 

With a burning desire that mirrors my own, Alex draws me up into a passionate kiss. His lips meld with mine in a fervent embrace, sending shivers of ecstasy down my spine. The taste of him is intoxicating, a heady mix of desire and longing that leaves me breathless. With equal passion, I respond, our mouths locked in a dance of insatiable hunger. 

Having Alex here with me after three long months apart is a sensation like no other. It’s as though the world falls away, leaving just the two of us to revel in this long-awaited reunion. His presence making me feel alive, desired, and utterly cherished. 

Alex’s hands, strong and possessive, roam my body with an almost desperate need. They trace the lines of my back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. My own hands are equally eager, clutching at his shoulders, fingers running through his fluffy hair as I pull him closer, craving more of his touch. Everything makes the room seem to spin around us, a blur of passion and desire as we lose ourselves in each other. Our kisses deepen, becoming a tumultuous symphony of need and longing. The heat between us is almost unbearable, and every touch, every caress, sends waves of pleasure coursing through me. 

A strangled sound leaving my throat to me swallowed by Alex when his nimble fingers find the buttons of my jodhpurs, a wicked smile spreads across his lips into the kiss, and I can feel the way he revels in the effects he has on me. His touch is almost maddening slow, each button undone with deliberate intent, driving me to the brink of desire. My body responding eagerly, and I lose myself in the sensations, a man slipping past my lips. 

As he gets to the last button, we hear my name being called over the speakers, announcing first, second and third places. Panic courses through me, and we break the kiss with a gasp, sharing a frantic look, realising how screwed we are. In a rush, we disentangle ourselves, and hastily start buttoning up my jodhpurs, our clothes in disarray, and our appearances very obviously post-make-out messy. With no time to fix ourselves, we hurried make our way out of the small room. 

The flashes are blinding as soon as we step out, the press obviously having seen us go in somehow. We have no way of hiding the evidence of what’s just happened: our hairs are tousled; lips kiss-swollen and our shirts untucked and crumpled. There’s no denying what just transpired in that private room, and the paparazzi have captured it all. I can already hear the headlines tomorrow: ‘FSOTUS and Prince Y/N - Closet Lovers?’ Or some bullshit like that. My family are going to kill me but honestly? I don’t care because now I hold Alex in public. 

I don’t have time to really think about it all as my security details find us and are rushing us through the crowds but one thing I do know for certain is that I'm not going to hide anymore. I don’t care what grandpa has to say or what Philip thinks. I love Alex Claremont-Diaz. 

As I come to a sudden stop, Alex bumping into my back, hands instinctively flying to my hips to steady himself. That small, wordless gesture of support is all the confidence I need. I spin around, ignoring his questioning look, and without hesitation, I grab his face and draw him down into a searing kiss. The world around us seeming to pause for a moment as our lips meet in a passionate embrace. The paparazzi’s flashing cameras capture the intensity of the kiss, and a murmur of surprise and excitement tipples through the crowds. For a brief moment, it’s as if we’re the only two people in the world, our love and desire on full display. 

When the kiss finally breaks, Alex is grinning down at me, chocolate eyes sparkling with unspoken affection. He draws me into another kiss, but this one is softer, filled with tenderness and a promise of a future where we don’t have to hide. Our lips meeting in a sweet embrace, the softness of his kiss feels like a whispered promise that he’ll stand by my side no matter what happens. 

Alex is pulling away too quickly for my liking, his gaze locking with mine, and in a hushed voice, he murmurs, “I love you.” 

Hearing those words from his sends a rush of emotions trough me. It’s a declaration that makes my heart soar, a confirmation of the love that has bound us together despite the odds. I look into his eyes, filled with love and sincerity, and I can’t help but smile. 

“I love you too.” I reply, my voice filled with so much warmth and affection that it cracks a little. 

“Good, now go get your rosette, Baby. You deserve it.” 

-------------

Red White and Royal Blue Masterlist

New Tag List Form

TAGS: @clarks-letterman @spencer-reids-wife

[soulofapatrick]

Baby Steps - Henry Fox x Male Reader

Summary: You wake to Henry in your room, having flown overnight to surprise you

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: fluff; the fluffiest shit ive written for a while

Y/N’s POV

I’m stirred awake by the soft, lingering pressure of familiar lips on mine. At first, I’m enveloped in the sensation of their plump softness, and for a moment, I think I must be dreaming. The kiss is gentle yet undeniably passionate, a perfect blend of love and longing that I’ve come to recognise as uniquely Henry’s. 

As my senses slowly awaken, I become aware of the delicate dance of his fingers across my cheek, tracing a path as tender as a whispered promise. It’s then that I open my eyes and my heart leaps in my chest as he’s here, leaning over me with a soft smile gracing those dreamy lips. Henry’s eyes, a shade of deep, stormy blue, lock onto mine with an intensity that takes my breath away. His honey hair falls in disarray around his face, adding to the allure of the tousled morning look he wears so effortlessly. Those plump, soft lips I had initially mistaken for a dream are now inches away, just waiting for another kiss, another taste of the love that binds us. 

I’m blinking again, still not actually sure he’s here, but when I open my eyes he’s still leaning ver me with an amused glint in his eyes. I raise a hand, my fingers trembling with disbelief, and with a mixture of caution and longing, I cup his cheek. The warmth of his skin against my palm is undeniably real, and the way he leans into the touch with a soft sigh. I can feel the subtle roughness of his morning stubble, the texture of his skin so familiar and comforting. My thumb grazes those plump, soft lips, the sensation electric. It sends a jolt of desire through me but, it’s more than just desire; it’s the tangible proof that Henry is here with me, that I’m not trapped in some wistful dream. 

I can no longer deny the reality of the situation. This isn’t a dream. This is Henry: my love, my anchor, my prince, here in the Whitehouse. 

Overwhelmed with emotions, I can’t contain my joy any longer. I reach out and grab Henry’s shoulders, yanking him down into a hug that has him letting out a surprised sound as he loses his balance and falls onto of me. He chuckles, a warm and melodious sound, as he hides his face in the crook of my neck, breath tickling my skin as he nuzzles against me. His laughter is music to my ears, a soothing balm to my heart. His nose is cold against my neck but I don’t care because he’s in my arms and he’s laughing. We’re wrapped up in each other, two souls intertwined in a world that often demands so much of us. 

Without a word, his hands roam any bare skin he can reach above the duvet, drawing a soft groan from me as we can’t right now. Alex and June are going to come bugging me about breakfast soon as Mum likes to have meals together because we’re still family even if we’re the now the Presidential family. 

“Hen, we can’t-“ I’m cut off by a pounding at the door. 

“Come on Mouse! Breakfast! I’m starving.” Alex’s voice rings through and Henry huffs lightly, warm breath tickling my neck. 

“Go ahead, give me a few minutes!” I call back as Henry wriggles his way off of me and back to his feet, “I need to get dressed!” 

“TMI!” Alex makes a fake vomiting sound before I hear him move on to June’s door. 

Suddenly, the duvet is ripped off me, Henry with a cheeky grin on his face but eyes telling a different story as he realises I’m completely naked. I want to cover myself up but the way he’s looking at me makes me stay there, raising myself to my elbows and just watching his expression. It’s a gaze that feels like a warm embrace, as if he’s holding me with his eyes alone. 

As I watch him watch me, I notice the subtle changes in his expressions. There’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes, as if he’s delighting in some secret joke that only the two of us share. It makes me feel shy, as if I’m being examined under a magnifying glass, my vulnerability and desires laid bare for him. 

But it’s not just amusement; there’s a hunger in his gaze too, a longing that’s mirrored in the way his pupils dilate ever so slightly. It’s the look of someone who can’t get enough of the person they love, as if he’s seeing me anew, every time, with the sam wonder and affection. 

Henry’s gaze holds me captive, and I can’t help it when my cheeks heat up under the weight of his attention. It’s as if I’m a work of art, and he’s a devoted enthusiast, lost in the beauty of what he sees before him. In this moment, I feel truly seen and cherished, and it fills me with a warmth that goes beyond worlds - a feeling that I am the most precious masterpiece in his world. It has me sitting up and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed for him to slot himself between them like he belongs there, his finger hooking under my chin to make me look up at him and I think I forget how to breathe. 

“I want to tell Mom.” It slips from me before I’ve processed it and instead of going into what Pez calls his cocoon phase his soft smile brightens and the corners of his eyes crinkle with joy, “I want to hold you and kiss you whenever I like. For as long as you need, the walls of the Whitehouse will hold our secret but Henry…” I reach for his hands, “I love you.” 

The moment those three words leave my lips, myriad of emotions play across Henry’s features like a fleeting storm. First, there’s joy, a radiant burst of happiness that lights up his eyes. Them fear flickers by briefly, a shadow of worry for what his grandma will say about him choosing love over his royal duties. Pain follow, a reminder of the sacrifices we’ll have to make to keep our love hidden until he’s ready to tell the world but I would wait forever for him. But as quickly as the pain appears, it’s replaced by something stronger - bliss. It’s a deep, overwhelming happiness, a promise of the love we share and the future we’ve chosen together. 

Without a word, Henry leans down, his lips brushing softly against mine. It’s a kiss filled with tenderness and reassurance, a silent affirmation of his love for me, and as we kiss, the worries and pressures of the outside world seem to fade into the background. 

However, our peaceful moment is interrupted by the buzzing of my phone on the nightstand. I pull away reluctantly, breaking the kiss with a soft sigh, already knowing it’s Alex as Henry moves to my wardrobe and begins to rifle through it. As predicted Alex leaves me a voice note telling me to hurry up or he’s drowning me in the pool next time we go swimming. Very mature. 

I watch Henry reach into my wardrobe, his fingers gliding over the familiar clothes that have become a part of both of our lives. He has an air of confidence and ease as he selects a few items for me to wear. 

First, he pulls out a pair of boxers from the drawers before grabbing some skinny jeans of mine that he’s complimented my ass in before. With a self-satisfied nod he’s heading back to the bed where I’m sat and handing them to me before pulling the polo shirt he’s wearing over his head. It’s his very famous riding shirt: the red and white checkered one with ‘Kensington Polo’ written across is and I don’t think twice about taking it. 

While I dress he goes back to my wardrobe and finds my favourite tee shirt, pulling it over his head and I can’t stop the giddy feeling when I see him raise the sleeve to his nose and inhale. The look of love and peace on his face as his eyes flutters shut has my heart clenching and my cheeks heating up. It’s moments like these that remind me of the depth of his feelings, of the way he cherishes even the smallest part of me like my clothes. 

I finish dressing quickly, my heart still dancing with the warmth of Henry’s presence. He suggests we head down to breakfast, and I just nod in agreement. My phone begins to buzz again, but this time, I can hardly focus on it as Henry is holding his hand out for me to hold, fingers extended in a silent invitation. Without hesitation, I reach out, our fingers interlacing effortlessly. My heart skips a beat at the simple yet profound gesture. 

We arrive at the dining room where my family is already gathered. My mom, the President, sits at the head of the table, her usual air of authority softened by the presence of the loved ones. Dad, Alex, June and Nora are all chatting and laughing as they wait for me. For us. 

I can’t help but swallow hard, my heart racing as I prepare to face the inevitable questions and scrutiny. But, as I glance at Henry, his grip on my hand remains steady, his expression almost more anxious than I feel. It’s a silent reminder that we’re in this together, facing whatever challenges that come our way one at a time. But together. 

Mom looks up from her place at the head of the table, and her eyes widen in surprise as she spits Henry beside me. Her Texan accent warms her voice as she greets us, her eyes falling to our interlocked hands, “I was wondering who the extra place was for.” She says, tone warm and loving. Her eyes hold a hint of curiosity but also deep affection and nothing short of love and support. 

I can’t help but exhale a sigh of relief as I witness her reaction. It’s as if a weight has been lifted, and I feel a newfound sense of ease in her presence. 

Dad’s the next to notice, ever the embodiment of warmth and hospitality, rises from his seat and starts to extend his hand to Henry. But, as he seems my hand in Henry’s, his face breaks into a warm and loving smile before he’s pulling Henry into a heartfelt hug that has Henry letting out a surprised sound. 

“Welcome to the family, son.” Dad says, voice filled with genuine warmth and acceptance. It’s a moment that fills me with overwhelming gratitude and Henry’s stormy blue eyes shine with tears as we sit in our seats between Dad and Alex. 

Nora, always perceptive and sharp, giggles excitedly from her seat opposite me when I place my hand on Henry’s leg and squeeze reassuringly. She turns to Alex and June, her eyes dancing with mirth, “I told you so!” She just about cackles, voice triumphant, “Pay up, pay up. I knew they’d end up together.” 

“Shut up.” Alex throws a note across the table, barely missing the jam and Mom just rolls her eyes as Nora snatches it up and holds it to the light to check if it’s real. 

Henry’s leaning close to me, lips practically brushing my ear and he murmurs, “I love you too.” My heart swells with affections and I can’t resist the urge any longer. I turn to towards him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s sweet and tender, a silent reaffirmation of our love admits the laughter and teasing. 

Alex, always the jokester, pretends to gag dramatically, earning an exaggerated fake vomiting motion from him. Mom playfully scolds him, smacking him gently with the newspaper while I kick him under the table, dragging a sharp cry of pain and a playful glare from him. 

But, in this moment, surrounded by my loving family, Henry’s presence beside me, and the shared laughter at the breakfast table, I know deep down that everything is going to be okay for us. We’ll take baby steps and I don’t care how long I have to wait for Henry to be ready. I’d kill for him. I want him to be written into the my history when historians write about me. I want them to know that this man, currently laughing at a joke Dad is telling is the love of my life and will always be. 

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

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New Tag List Form

TAGS: @clarks-letterman @spencer-reids-wife

[soulofapatrick]

Take A Chance - Henry Fox x Male Reader

Summary: You decide to take a chance of a lifetime at Alex's New Years Eve party

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: None really

Notes: Sorry for any typos!

Y/N’s POV

The tent is a dazzling spectacle of lights, laughter, and sparkling fairy lights. My brother, Alex Claremont-Diaz, has outdone himself once again with his New Year’s Eve party. The fairy lights, coupled with the vibrant disco lights, transform the space into a pulsating sea of color and energy. The room feels alive, loud and boisterous, with music blaring from the massive speakers, sending vibrations through the floor.

As I stand by the bar, nursing a rum and coke and feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sheer exuberance of the festivities, Alex bounds over. His infectious smile is both proud and encouraging as he claps a hand on my shoulder. 

“Y/N, little brother!” He shouts over the music, voice brimming with excitement, “This is your night! Take a chance, alright? It’s a new year, fresh start!” 

I just nod, swallowing thickly as I hate being in large social gatherings, only being here for one person. Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor… or just Henry. Alex has always been the fearless one, the one that grabs life by the horns. He knows how I feel about Henry, and he’s been urging me for ages to make a move, unable to understand the face that Prince’s aren’t allowed to be anything but straight. 

And then, as if on cue, the room seems to hush for a brief moment. All eyes turn towards the entrance, where Henry is standing with Percy. My heart skips a beat as I catch my first glimpse of him and the partying goes back to how it was making me unsure if there really was a hush. Henry is resplendent in a suit that exudes regal elegance. His blond hair is styled to perfection, and every step he takes is graceful, like a prince from a fairy tale. His emerald-green eyes are alight with warmth and charm as he steps further into the room. It’s as if the entire atmosphere has shifted, focused solely on him… I’m focused solely on him. 

I can’t help but feel a rush of emotions. My pulse quickens, and my palms grow sweaty. The way he carries himself, the effortless charisma he exudes, it’s all incredibly magnetic. Henry has always had that effect on people, but for me, it’s something deeper. He moves through the crowd, greeting guests and flashing his charming smile. I watch, captivated by his every gesture. It’s a bittersweet feeling, knowing that someone like Henry is so close yet so far. He makes me feel alive, but I’ve never had the courage to act on my own feelings. 

Alex’s words linger in the air as he spots Henry making his entrance and with an enthusiastic wave and mischievous grin, he calls out, “Henry! Percy!” And beckons them over. Henry turns towards Percy and together they make their ay through the crowd, charming smiles in tow. 

My heart flutters nervously as they approach. Alex gives me a knowing look and, with a wink, he immediately grabs Percy’s arm and drags him away, leaving me standing there with Henry. It’s as if the universe itself conspired to put us together, alone in a sea of revelry. Henry’s eyes meet mine, and his smile is nothing short of enchanting. It lights up his face, crinkling the corners of his bright eyes, and I’m momentarily lost in the depths of his gaze. His presence is magnetic, drawing me in like a moth to a flame. 

“Y/N,” he says, voice warm and inviting, name rolling of his tongue in a way that has my face heating up, “It’s been too long. How have you been?” 

The sound of his voice sends shivers down my spine, and I’m stumbling over my words, “Good! I’ve been… good. Just caught up with all my lectures, you know the usual.” 

Henry's smile remains as he steps closer, the distance between us diminishing until he's right beside me. I can feel the warmth of his body, and the proximity is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. It's closer than friends would stand, and it's enough to steal the air from my lungs, “You’ve always been such a hard worker, Y/N. It’s admirable.”

Leaning casually against the bar, he turns his attention to the bartender and orders two glasses of champagne. The bubbles in the crystal-clear liquid seem to dance in anticipation, much like the butterflies in my stomach. Henry’s gaze never leaves me, and I can feel his eyes on me like a gentle caress.

The glasses are placed before us, and Henry raises his in a toast, “To new beginnings,” he murmurs, voice low and filled with meaning. I clink my glass against his, our eyes locked and he watches me as I take a sip of mine. His fingers brushing against mine on the bar, a touch so subtle, it sends shivers down my spine and I’m sure I’m imagining it really. It’s as if he’’s testing the waters, gauging my reaction and I can’t stop the small smile. 

Then, just as the champagne begins to work its magic, one of my favourite songs starts playing. The familiar melody fills the air, and I can’t help but grin. It’s a song that is impossible to resist, with a rhythm that just demands to be danced to. 

Without thinking, I put our glasses down on the bar and turn to Henry, my hand reaching out to grab his. His fingers entwine with mine, and I lead him away from the bar and into the crowd of minor celebs and friends who are already hot and sweaty and very drunk, screaming and dancing their hearts out. 

Henry follows me willingly, but as we begin to move to the music, it becomes evident that he’s more accustomed to the controlled elegance of ballroom dancing. His movements are awkward, but endearing in their own way. I can’t help but chuckle softly at his attempts, and I decide to help him out. My hands are finding his hips, guiding them to sway in time with the beat, an intimate gesture, our bodies pressed close as we move to the music with Henry slowly loosening up. 

As the music continues to envelop us, Henry’s initial awkwardness gives way to a newfound confidence. His emerald eyes sparkle with a mix of determination and playfulness, mirroring my own excitement. We move together, our bodies swaying to the rhythm, each step bringing us closer both physically and emotionally. With my hands still on his hips, I guide him through it, our bodies pressed intimately close. The world outside the tent seems to fade away entirely, leaving just the two of us lost in the music and each other. It’s a moment of vulnerability, of shared laughter and stolen glances that speak volumes. 

Amid the pulsating rhythm of the music and the infectious joy in Henry's laughter, I can vaguely hear the countdown beginning. The whole room joins in, voices rising in unison, counting down from ten. But my focus remains solely on Henry, his smile radiant, his head thrown back with unabashed joy. Alex’s words, “take a chance” echo in my ears like a mantra. The seconds tick away, and as we dance together, I feel an overwhelming sense of anticipation building inside me. The countdown is not just for the new year; it’s a countdown to a moment that feels like it might make or break me or Henry. 

“Ten… Nine… Eight…” 

The voices around us grow louder, the excitement palpable. Henry and I slowly stop dancing, our bodies inches apart. I can feel his warm breath against my lips, and the world around us seems to blur into a hazy backdrop. It’s just the two of us, facing each other with the new year about to come into being. 

“Three… Two…” 

“Take a chance.” I whisper, my voice barely louder than a breath, but I know Henry hears it. Our eyes remain locked, and I know we’ve been dancing around our feelings for far too long, it’s time to take that leap of faith. 

And then, as the room erupts into cheers, as fireworks explode in the night sky outside, I close the remaining gap between us. I lean in and press my lips to Henry’s, a kiss that speaks of hope, of courage and of a love that’s been waiting in the wings for far too long. 

Henry’s lips are soft and warm against mine, the taste of champagne on his tongue as he kisses me back with almost more fervour. A sensation that sends a jolt of electricity through my entire body, and a whirlwind of emotions. There’s a rush of exhilaration, like I’m standing at the edge of  a precipice, ready to leap into the unknown. The years of longing and unspoken desires culminate in this one kiss, and it’s as if a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying had been lifted. 

Henry kisses me back with a hunger that’s been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. Our connection deepens, and it’s as if our souls are finally aligning, finding their perfect match in each other. Time seems to stand still as we share this moment of passion and tenderness. The world outside may be celebrating the new year with fireworks and cheers, but for us, there’s only the soft brush of lips and a promise of a future with Henry. 

As our kiss breaks, the lingering taste of champagne and the warmth of Henry’s lips still etched on mine, I watch a mixture of satisfaction and panic dance across Henry’s face. It’s as if he’s teetering on the edge of something profound, and for a moment I wonder if I’ve misjudged the situation. But then, he closes his eyes briefly, taking a deep, steadying breath. When he opens them again, there's a newfound determination in his gaze. He cups my cheek gently, his thumb rubbing across my cheekbone in a loving caress, sending shivers down my spine, ”Take a chance, huh?" he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with tenderness.

I nod, a surge of hope and anticipation welling up within me. "Yeah, Henry," I reply, my voice equally soft, “I wanna take a chance.” 

“Let’s take that chance then.” 

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

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[soulofapatrick]

Behind Closed Doors - Henry Fox x Male Reader

Summary: Henry is in your bed having sneaked into the Whitehouse with the help of Amy and it's been nearly six months since you've seen each other

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Smut; very gay smut; anal fingering; anal sex; blowjobs; fluff

Y/N’s POV

The laptop screen flickers to life, casting a cold, bluish hue across the dimly lit room. On the screen, Prince Henry is the epitome of regal composure, his posture immaculate, his expression stoic and controlled. The tension in his shoulders is palpable, the lines etched on his forehead telling tales of the countless responsibilities that rest on his shoulders. His azure eyes, although mesmerising, appear guarded, a perpetual veil of restraint concealing the depths of his emotions. The smile that graced his lips is a well practiced one, polite and diplomatic, but it never truly reaches his eyes, leaving them to shimmer with a distant glint. 

I glance away from the screen to the very same Prince fast asleep beside me. The contrast striking. 

Here, in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Prince Henry is just Henry. He’s a world away from the formalities of his public and royal life. He lies on his side, his body sprawled in a relaxed, unguarded manner that defies the rigid protocols of royalty. His chest rises and falls in a gentle, even rhythm, his breaths syncing with the tranquility of the moment. The meticulously coiffed hair that graced my screen is now a disheveled mess, each strand of his golden locks framing his face in wild abandon. His cheeks are tinged with a natural, healthy flush, a stark contrast to the pale veneer he often wears in public. 

As I observe him, I can’t help but notice the subtle shifts in his expression as he dreams. The stoic mask he wears for the world has slipped away, revealing the true Prince Henry beneath. A small, contented smile plays on his lips, and it’s genuine - unburdened by the expectations of diplomacy. It’s a smile that comes from the heart. In his slumber, he’s just a man, stripped of titles and obligations, free to express his emotions without restraint. 

I can’t help myself, reaching out and gently brushing my fingers against his cheek, marvelling at the softness of his skin and the warmth beneath. He stirs slightly, nuzzling his face into the pillow, seeking comfort and letting out a small snuffle before those beautiful eyes flutter open sleepily.

The cool, distant glint in his azure eyes has been replaced with a sense of serenity and vulnerability. He blinks a few times, adjusting to the soft lighting in the room, and then he turns his gaze towards me. It’s a moment of unspoken connection, as if we share a secret, a world of our own. 

With a lazy, contented smile, Henry reaches out to gently take my laptop from my hands, placing it on the bedside table. Then, in a slow and deliberate move, he grips the front of my pyjama shirt and tugs until I find myself hovering over him. 

Our lips meet in a tired, yet passionate kiss. It’s a kiss that speaks of comfort and love. Our mouths move together, synchronised in a dance of affection, and I can taste the lingering sweetness of sleep on his lips. It’s a gentle, unhurried kiss, having all the time in the world as no one knows he’s here in America or the Whitehouse let alone half naked in my bed.

Henry’s hands, warm and exploring, roam over my back, causing a shiver to run down my spine. His blunt nails trail sensually, raking down my skin in a way that elicits a gasp from me. It’s a delightful mix of pleasure and surprise, encouraging him further. He seizes the opportunity, slipping his tongue past my parted lips, deepening the kiss. Our tongues dance together, an intricate and passionate tango, conveying desire and longing. The taste of him, mingled with the faintest hint of mint from his toothpaste, is intoxicating. 

My hands, guiding by instinct and desire, find their way to his tousled hair, My fingers thread through the golden strands, and I revel in the sensation of the soft, silken locks between my fingertips. Our bodies press closer together, the heat and desire building between us like an irresistible force. 

Suddenly, in a move that leaves me breathless, Henry flips us over, his body now hovering above mine. His lips trail down from my mouth to my neck, and I’m arching into his touch, granting him better access, a soft man escaping my lips. His hands find my hips, pressing them into the mattress to keep them still, a silent declaration of his intentions. His warm breath against my skin as he places tender kisses along the sensitive curve of my neck. Each kiss sends waves of pleasure radiating through my body, and I clutch the sheets beneath us, my heart pounding with anticipation and my dick jumps in my boxers. 

Henry’s movements are deliberate, and his plump lips leave a trail of fire in their wake as they journey downward from my neck. Each kiss, every brush of his mouth against my skin, sends a surge of pleasure radiating through my body. As his lips continue their descent, I arch my back, offering more of my chest, and a soft sigh escapes my lips. His hands, still on my hips, hold me firmly in place when his thumbs dip under the waistband of my boxers. I can’t stop the whimper or the way my hips jerk when he grazes his teeth down my lower stomach. 

“Now, now Darling,” Henry murmurs, voice a velvet whisper that washes over me like a soothing balm. It’s gentle and loving, a stark contrast to the passionate urgency of our actions. His words are tender, carrying an undertone of teasing and deep affection, “Be a good boy for me.”

“Fuuuckkkk,” I’m throwing my head back when he mouths over my almost painful erection, the thin layer of my boxers making me want to scream, “Hen, please.” I’m whining and he’s grinning up at me through those pretty eyelashes, eyes dark and wanting. He’s tugging my boxers down my thighs and discarding them somewhere to my left before he’s mouthing at my hips and inner thighs. Lips trailing across every bit of skin except where I want him… where I need him. 

Then suddenly, his tongue is on my lower stomach, lapping at the precum leaking onto my bare skin from the teasing and it takes everything in me not to grab his hair and stop this teasing or he will just drag it out even more. I think I let out a strangled sound, too loud for these walls when Henry finally wraps those fantasy inducing lips around the head of my aching dick as he also shoves three fingers in my mouth to muffle the sounds. Obediently, I begin to suck on them, lathering them up with saliva while he teases his tongue over the frenulum and hollowing out his cheeks. 

Before long his fingers are slipping from my lips and are circling my entrance, my whole body tensing in anticipation which has Henry pulling away, “Darling, you need to relax.”

He pushes a finger pass the tight ring of muscles at the same time swallowing me down whole, my body jerking with pain and pleasure. His free hand is rubbing soothing circles against my hip, trying to relax me enough for him to add another finger and loosen me up enough. His throat constricts, trying to gag around me and I have to throw a hand over my mouth as my older brother’s room is just next door. 

Almost too soon he’s pulling away, drawing himself up and his azure eyes meet mine, a silent question there. I don’t reply, wrapping my legs around his waist and finally tangling my hands in his soft locks to drag him into an almost bruising kiss. Somewhere between him stripping me and now he’s rid himself of his boxers. His right hand caresses my cheek while his other moves to help guide himself in place, the tip pushing past the ring of muscles. I can’t help but tense up at the intrusion but then his lips are on mine, sweet and delicate, coaxing whimpers from me as he slowly pushes into me. 

“It’s okay Darling,” He cooes against my lips, “That’s it Sweetheart, just breathe.” He finds my hands, intertwining our fingers as he begin to rock his hips, watching my face for my reaction. I can’t stop the wince, hips twitching as Henry tries to find a steady rhythm, his lips parted and eyes fluttering shut for a second, breath coming out in gasps as he seems to be holding himself back to not hurt me. The sight of him like this and stretch of him filling me oh so full has my dick twitching between us and his eyes fly open again. It’s a prickling sensation, somewhere between pain and pleasure and has me needing something more. 

“Henry, please.” I don’t know what I’m asking for, clenching around his thick length and rocking my hips down to meet his, drawing out a low sound from him and his head falls against my shoulder. 

“Darling,” He moans out, pushing back in quickly, hitting that bundle of nerves that has my hips jerking and him grinning into the crook of my neck. My hands scrabble for purchase when his grip my hips again, settling in his hair and raking down his back. It’s not just the physical connection with Henry as our bodies intertwine, it’s as if time itself slows down and we exist in a world of our own making. Every touch, every caress, carries the weight of emotions that can’t be expressed in words. 

Every rock of his hips hits that bundle of nerves, and I can’t help rocking my hips up to meet his, my back arching into every movement. I’m sure I’m speaking, sounds leaving my throat as Henry picks up his pace, making me see stars. 

“Kiss me.” I hear myself whine and Henry’s chest rumbles with  a broken chuckle before his lips brush teasingly against mine. His hands grip my hips almost bruisingly, pulling my hips down to meet his harsh thrusts as that knot in my stomach begins to tighten. Low and guttural sounds rumble in his chest as out bodies shine with a thin layer of sweat, his blond locks sticking to his forehead, pale skin flushing as he makes love to me. Henry and I have had sex and made love before but this feels different, more intimate somehow as he whispers sweet nothings against my neck, nose nuzzling my jaw and lips soft and breath hot. The coil in my stomach tightening as he lets my hands go to wrap around me and pull me closer to him, my hands finding his hair and tugging his lips back to mine as a sound leaves his kiss swollen lips again. It’s all hot and heavy and sensual, full of love and passion and a promise of forever. 

“Almost there Baby,” he’s murmuring and I think I’ve lost the ability to speak as all I can do is nod so fast I think I’m going to break my neck. I’m whimpering, my hands trying to fins purchase on his back, nails raking almost painfully down his smooth and muscular skin. One of his hands ghost down my chest and stomach to wrap around my throbbing erection, barely making one full jerk before that coil snaps and I’m crying his name with no care for how loud we are. My whole body convulses and shakes as my vision whites out and I’m clamping around him. He bites down on my bottom lip almost painfully as he comes, his seed filling me up. The aching pain of him pulsating inside me makes me almost come again, a new feeling that adds to the pleasure and I think I might pass out from the bliss of it all. 

“Baby, hey, Y/N.” Henry’s murmurs to me and his thumbs soothing my cheeks gently, “There you ar pretty boy.” He peppers kisses all over my face, and I can't help but let out an almost embarrassing giggle, despite our passionate activities just moments ago. His hips are still moving in gentle circles of overstimulation against mine, but his focus now is solely on me, his affectionate touches like a soothing balm.

"BREAKFAST WHEN YOU TWO ARE DONE!" Alex pounds his fists on my door, making me jump, and I instinctively tense up, causing us both to wince. Henry carefully pulls out, his gaze never leaving mine. 

”BE QUIETER NEXT TIME!" June’s voice rings through the door as well, and we exchange amused glances before bursting into quiet laughter.

"Breakfast?" Henry asks softly, his arms wrapping around me as he pulls me close, his warmth enveloping me in a cocoon of love.

I shake my head, my heart full of contentment. "Hell no."

With a loving smile, Henry leans in and captures my lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. It's a kiss that speaks of all the emotions we've shared, the love that binds us, and the intimacy that's brought us even closer.

As our lips part, Henry murmurs, "I love you, Y/N."

I smile back at him, my heart swelling with affection. "I love you too, Henry."

In each other's arms, we drift off to sleep, the world outside forgotten, and our love the only thing that matters. Wrapped in the warmth of our embrace, we know that no matter what challenges lie ahead, we have each other—a love that's deep, passionate, and unbreakable.I’ll deal with the outcome of Alex and June later but for now, it’s just me and Henry and that’s all I need. 

-------------

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[soulofapatrick]

Not What I Thought - Henry Fox x Male Reader

Summary: You meet Henry at Philip and Martha's wedding to find you're both as enthralled by the other as the other

Words: 2.1k 

Warnings: None really, almost smut but interrupted

Notes: Henry and Alex from RWRB have taken over my life 🤣🤣🤣

Y/N’s POV

To say that I wasn’t absolutely shitting myself would be a lie as I step out of the limo with Alex, my older brother, and Nora, the vice president’s daughter. Usually, Alex and Nora would take this job but mother wanted me to start getting out into the spotlight and making a name for myself as Alex is about to start running the campaign in Texas and June has officially become a speech writer for the Whitehouse while I’ve done nothing. I’m only just eighteen and I have the whole world knowing my name which is rather daunting, but, not as daunting as this…

Buckingham Palace is fucking huge, and gold and full of fancy shit that I don’t know the name of. I’m not even sure why I said yes to this. Alex is grumbling and rolling his eyes about how snobbish and pretentious Prince Henry is while Nora is basically bouncing as she walks, full to the brim with excitement, as she drags my stumbling self behind her to line up and greet the royal family as they enter the hall. Or ballroom. I’m not sure, all these rooms are too big to distinguish them. 

Prince Philip and his new wife, Martha, look to be the snobbish ones, noses upturned and voice articulate as they shake hands with every important member of governments and royal connections in this line. He looks at us three like we’re the dirt under his shoes and shakes Alex’s hand like he has the plague before skipping me entirely and greeting Nora with a little better attitude. Next is Bea, the middle child and the wild child from what I hear. She’s pleasant if somewhat reserved but she greets the three of us like we’re long lost childhood friends reuniting and it leaves a warm feeling in my chest even if I don’t actually swing that way. She’s waltzing Nora away before anyone can say anything and suddenly I’m face to face with beauty. 

Prince Henry. He stands tall - taller than Alex - and regal amidst the opulent surroundings of Buckingham Palace. His blond hair impeccably styles, the locks sweeping messily back from his forehead with natural elegance. The subtle curl at the ends softens his appearance, giving him an approachable air despite his royal stature. The rich hue of his hair contrasts perfectly with his fair, porcelain complexion. His eyes, a light shade of blue that seems to hold a depth of emotions, are set beneath finely arched eyebrows. They radiate a mixture of curiosity, kindred and a hint of despair - a combination that makes it hard to look away. 

His features are finely chiseled, with a strong jawline that adds a touch of masculinity to his ethereal beauty. His lips, full and oh so inviting, seem to hold a natural grace that could effortlessly break into a smile or a quick teasing grin. His tailored suit fits him like a second skin, emphasising his lean build and hinting at a strength beneath the refined exterior. The way he carries himself, with an air of confidence tempered by genuine interest in those around him, makes it easy to see why he captures the attention of all who meet him despite Alex’s stories of how entitled and narcissistic he is. 

As his voice reaches my ears, it’s warm and inviting, breaking through the nervousness that has settled within me, “Good evening,” He says, his tone polite but not distant, “I don’t believe we have had the pleasure of meeting before. May I have your name?” 

His hand, when he extends it for a handshake, is warm and firm, his grip confident yet not overpowering. There’s a sincerity in the ay he clasps my hand, a fleeting connection that carries a sense of genuine interest. As his blue eyes meet mine, I can’t help but feel that beneath all the rumours I’ve heard and the expectations, there’s a complexity to Prince Henry that is both intriguing and captivating. 

“Y-your majest- Oh no! Your royal highness-“ Alex facepalms from beside me, watching me fumble over my words as my brain displays images of Henry pressing me up against the nearest wall and having me any way he likes, “Y-Y/N. It’s Y/N Claremont-Diaz.” 

“Well,” His eyes seemed to have darkened as they sweep over me once, not in the same way Philip did, and oh fuck me. I am not going to make it through this evening if he keeps looking at me like that, especially when he leans in close, breath hot against my cheek, “I hope to see you later.”

As quickly as he appeared, Henry is gone, and Alex is at my side, steering me toward the bustling ballroom where the after party is in full swing. Amidst the crowd, Alex seems to vanish in search of alcohol, leaving me to navigate the sea of unfamiliar faces. My eyes find Nora, her laughter blending with Bea's in a way that suggests they've been friends for years. I decide to do what I do best, explore without getting seen, blend into the shadows and find a quiet spot where no-one will disturb me, except maybe Amy who is my PPO for the day. Deciding to retreat into my comfort zone, 

I slip away quietly, becoming a shadow in the corners of the palace. It doesn't take long before I stumble upon a room, a hidden oasis amidst the grandeur, filled with books. Floor-to-ceiling shelves line the walls, laden with leather-bound volumes and dusty tomes. The soft glow of sconces illuminates the space, casting an inviting warmth that contrasts with the glitz and glamour outside. I step further into the room, running my fingers over the spines of the books. It’s mesmerising, the sheer collection of knowledge and stories tucked away in here. For a moment, I forget about the grand event unfolding just beyond these walls. I lose myself in the comfort of solitude and the intoxicating scent of aged pages. 

Just as I’m lost in my thoughts, the door creaks open, and I spin around to face the intruder, expecting to be Amy or Alex, having found me finally. But the sight that greets me is anything but ordinary. Henry stands there, his presence no longer commanding but somehow ordinary, like another person in the streets. His blue eyes meet mine, and there’s a shared understanding that in this moment neither of us are from royalty or fame, we are just Y/N and Henry. 

“You are an enigma, nothing at all how I imagined.” He tells me, quietly closing the door and making his way over to me, gesturing to the sofa. I sink straight into the plush cushions, Henry sitting on my left, one leg tucked under himself and arm flung over the back of the sofa, expression open and I have to adjust my seat imagining pushing him back and kissing him breathless. 

We exchange banter, light teasing, and the kind of easy conversation that’s reserved for moments of genuine connection. Henry’s flirting is subtle, a glint in his eyes and a playful quirk to his lips. It’s a dance of words that feels both exhilarating and comfortable, as if we’ve known each other for far longer than just a few hours. 

But then there’s a pause, a fleeting moment where the air between us changes. It’s as if time is holding its breath, our eyes locked, and the room is charged with a palpable tension. And then, in an instant, the atmosphere shifts again. It’s a surge, a magnetic pull that neither of us can resist and as if guided by an unseen force, we’re both leaning forwards, closing the distance between us. Our lips meet in a kiss that’s hesitant, testing the waters to see if awe are both wanting the same thing. It’s a slow exploration, a gentle press of lips that converts a shared curiosity and a mutual yearning. There’s a softness to the touch, a tentative dance that feels both intimate and tender. 

The hesitation doesn’t last long. As if a dam has been breached, the atmosphere between us surges with an irresistible pull. Henry’s lips mould against mine with more urgency, his hand finding it’s way to the curve of my cheek as if he’s trying to memorise every contour and scar. I respond in kind, my fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair, a silent invitation for him to come closer. And he does. The kiss deepening, a dance of desire and longing, a magnetic force that draws us closer until there’s hardly any space between us. 

I feel the shift as Henry’s hand traces the line of my jaw, his touch igniting sparks along my skin. And then, suddenly, the world tilts as he pushes me back onto the sofa, not dissimilar to the way I was picturing doing it to Henry. There’s a controlled urgency in his movements as he claims over me, body hovering just out of touch and the sensation is electrifying. Our lips collide once more, a collision of passion and aching want. It's a fervent dance of tongues and shared breaths that leaves me dizzy and craving more. His hands, exploratory and confident, trace the contours of my chest and shoulders. The path they leave in their wake is seared with fire, a trail of sensations that has me arching into his touch. 

As the kiss deepens, I can’t help but let my own desires take over. My hands, emboldened by need, glide down his back until they reach his waist and I pull him down to close the achingly large gap between us, drawing a whimper from me as his hips brush against mine just right. 

“Jesus, you know exactly what you want, don’t you?” Henry pants, breaking the kiss to focus his gaze on my shirt with an annoyed expression. His lean fingers with the buttons on my shirt, his touch almost impatient in it’s eagerness to explore what lies beneath. He looks breathtaking, hovering above me, honey hair mused and blue eyes glazed with want and abandon. 

I can’t stop myself reaching up and tangling my hand in those locks, grumbling, “You talk to much.” Before yanking him down into a bruising kiss. My hips raising up to meet his, causing a delicious friction that has me swallowing the sounds Henry makes, his hips rocking to meet mine. 

“Y/N, I told you not to-oh my god.” Amy is turning around and walking back outside, closing the door with a meaningful clearing of her throat. Henry is scrambling off of me and to his feet, eyes wide as if he’s realising what we’ve done and there’s a sinking feeling in my gut. I sit up, adjusting myself, the suit pants doing not much to ease he uncomfortableness and trying to make myself a little more presentable, keeping my head bowed away from his royal highness. 

“Oh no, no, no,” Henry is appearing between my legs, doing nothing to help my problem, those fantasy inducing fingers gripping my thighs higher than they should be, “Y/N Claremont-Diaz, you are a pleasure and I do hope we can see each other again. I would…” He pauses, looking up at me through hooded lashes and his right hand shifting even higher and a strangled sound escapes my throat, “I would like to see more of you.” 

“Fuck.” I’m letting my head fall back, the dull pain from the couch frame helping ease my raging erection that is currently being groped by someone I never thought. I think I get whiplash when Henry pops the button on my suit pants, “Hen- fuck… Henry, Alex is looking for me…. We don’t… we don’t have-“

“There you are Y/N!” The door bursts open and Alex stops short, eyes wide and jaw almost hitting the floor before he screeches, “HENRY?!” 

“Alex-“ 

“OF ALL PEOPLE? YOU PICK HENRY?” He’s staring bug eyed while Henry is still kneeling there, worry on his soft features. 

“Get out.” I grumble at my older brother who just rolls his eyes and focuses his gaze on a very red in the face Prince. 

“You hurt him, I hurt you.” Then Alex is gone with a half hearted slam of the door. 

I’m gripping Henry’s chin between my thumb and forefinger, guiding his gaze to mine to see the same nervousness and intensity in them. He parts his lips when my thumb ghosts over his plump bottom one and I think I die and go to heaven right then and there. 

“Where were we?’ He murmurs, guiding my hand to his hair again and yeah, I’m dead. How the fuck did I get the Prince of England to want me back in the span of four maybe five hours? I’m not gonna question it, just gonna take it as it is. 

Fuck Me.

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