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sourholland · 3 years

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A Royal Convenience || Tom Holland

| Series Masterlist |

Part Eight

Summary → When an alliance is made between England and France, you are sent away to marry the crown prince and heir to the British throne. Except both you and Prince Thomas despise each other at all odds, subjected to the hand of the monarchy and unable to stand each other.

AN → So, another possibly triggering chapter! Please take the time to read the warnings, especially if you have ever dealt with, or are triggered by abuse! On another note, this chapter was genuinely really painful to write out, even though I have known that it was coming. I played the song Fine Line by Harry Styles on repeat while writing this, so to be honest, I recommend listening either while you read or after. See this ask for some important information about “A Royal Convenience.” Let me know your thoughts <3 Feedback is always appreciated! Always keep in mind that this is purely a work of fiction.

Pairing(s) → Prince!Tom x Princess!Reader

Warnings → Angst, Childhood Trauma, Drinking, Alcoholism, Abusive Parental Figure, Insinuated Depressive Episode

Word Count → 3.5k

The cold shoulder.

This was all you’d gotten the day following yours and Tom’s late night escapade. He seemed to have taken notes from you, skipping out on dinner, much to the Queen’s dismay.

Apart of you wished to be as far away from him as possible, the other was lusting for him even in his absence. The memories seemed to replay themselves over and over again in your mind, making you guilt ridden and shameful most of the time. You hoped and prayed he had not told anyone, knowing what a tainted reputation could mean for you.

You stood tall on a footstool, the early morning following the day after that night. Several dressmakers crowded around you, poking and prodding as they continued fitting you for your wedding dress. The fabric clinging to your body was becoming more and more like a beautiful gown, and less of the bits of white cloth they slung onto your body.

“Can you breathe?” A young woman asked you, dressed in a beautiful purple daytime dress herself.

“Yes, I can breathe quite well,” you responded, taking in a large gulp of air.

“Mmm, tighter then.”

You rolled your eyes, fiddling with your fingers and trying to pass the time. You were practically being fawned over as of late, detail after detail after detail. You had no clue how many traditions and rules went into English weddings, especially those tacked to aristocracy.

Women paraded you all morning, and even then, you were still a ways away from being done with dress fittings. Queen Nicola had given you a secluded space in Buckingham Palace to handle matters like such. You were surprised that she hadn’t joined you, finding that she liked to dote after you when it came to anything having to do with the wedding.

However, a group of her ladies were gathered in front of you, parchment sprawled in front of them. She’d only sent her most trusted advisors to help you through the smaller details she could not. Usually, her Private Secretary would have joined, though, it would have been most inappropriate given your indecent state.

“And how about the line in the ceremony, the one where you would vow to obey—”

“Omit it,” you stated firmly. “I will vow to stand by him as an equal, not as his lap dog.”

“Of course, ma’am,” the woman responded quickly, scribbling something down.

The hour passed dreadfully slow, you’d gone through many more wedding plans, and even began to tune some of the minuscule things out. Every time someone would stick you with the needle, you’d practically fall off of the stool and onto the floor.

Once you’d finally been let free, you set off to find the Prince. Figuring it was best to put it all to rest and sullenly admit that you knew his actions were a consequence of his heavy drinking. You went in and out of different rooms, finding yourself irked by the fact that you hadn’t a clue where he slept.

The early morning quickly faded into the afternoon, leaving you agitated and irritable at the fact that he had gone to such lengths to distance himself. A sudden thought prodded the back of your mind, you wondered if he was spending his time with another. The thought shouldn’t have made you fume as much as it did, Tom had clearly been seeing that woman before.

A while later, you trekked through the gardens in great thought. Your mind wandered a bit, from wedding arrangements, to your family, eventually circling back to Tom, whom you couldn’t seem to shake from your mind.

It didn’t help that you soon recognized his mop of brown curls just twenty feet in front of you. He was sat by a small pond across some of the larger bushes of flowers that covered the grounds. You lifted your skirts, heading his way. You felt the warmth spreading through your face as soon as you noticed his toned back through the white tunic he wore.

“I would like nothing better than to shove you into that water myself,” you said, drawing his attention to you.

“Give it a go, that’s something I’d really like to see you attempt.”

He turned over, standing and brushing himself off quickly. You couldn’t help but notice the small blush covering his freckled cheeks, watching as he concealed it by looking in the opposite direction.

“You truly are quite persistent, you know?” He muttered very low, twisting a few rings around his fingers with his thumb.

“So I’ve been told,” you responded. “Where have you been?”

“Missing me, I see. I suppose I’ll find an abundance of your long, drawn out love letters at my door when I return. All professing your undying infatuation and affections for me, I bet.”

“I think I’d rather just send you into the pond,” you countered.

His lips quirked up a bit, straightening so quickly that you hadn’t even enough time to notice. He watched you, eyeing your frustration. There was a way that you walked when you were angry, he’d picked up on it the day you arrived. Soon after, he realized that he saw a lot of that walk.

“You needn’t humor me, Tom,” you breathed. “I can understand why you might.”

“I don’t follow?”

“Two nights ago, you know, when we—”

Tom chuckled at your prolonged silence, you couldn’t tell if this was his way of mocking your innocence, or simply just amusing to him. Nonetheless, he looked at you as if he wished for you to continue speaking.

“Well, it doesn’t quite matter in detail. I was just coming to tell you that I know you were highly intoxicated at the time, and I understand that it was all just a large mistake. One that both you and I regret dearly, and I apologize for my partaking as well.”

His face contorted, it went from shock to anger quite quickly. Jaw clenched, hands tensed at his sides. You wished so deeply to know exactly what was going through his mind. He didn’t speak for a moment or two, collecting his thoughts, you assumed.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” He asked simply, brows knitted together.

You didn’t know how to respond. The truth was, you were more so looking for a reason to speak to him. Though, you wouldn’t even admit that to yourself in retrospect. He drew his lips into a fine line, waiting for an answer. When you stayed quiet, he spoke again.

“You’re right, I was quite drunk. Couldn’t recall most of what happened even if I wanted to,” his words came out a bit uncertain.

You hadn’t noticed this, though. His saying that he couldn’t remember very much of your interaction was enough for you. How much had he forgotten, you thought. The deep bluish purple crescents underneath his eyes made you wonder how much sleep he really got.

“I see,” you murmured. “I just thought I’d come and clear the air of sorts.”

“We cannot be—friends, Y/N, it’s better that way. I’m not good for you, we’re not good for each other.”

You grasped at your opposite elbow, stepping back from him. There was something in his tone that you couldn’t quite place, yet the body language he gave off showed that he was clearly agitated. You had not thought he wanted to be your friend, but hearing him say that he did not was almost like a punch in the gut.

“I never wished to be your friend, Tom. I don’t think we are very suited to be friends,” you said, trying to bite back the sadness in your voice.

“Good,” he murmured. “I am not that good a man, Y/N.” His words came out in a whisper almost, like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted you to hear them or not.

You didn’t know whether to console him, or agree with him. One part of you wished to pull him into an embrace, while the other was telling you to nod your head along in agreement. It took you this long to notice the red rims along Tom’s eyes, the slight puffiness to them.

“You are human, it is all we are. If you hold yourself to unrealistic standards, you’ll only ever judge yourself to unrealistic extents.”

He was silent for a moment, threading a hand through his hair and sighing. You took two steps forward, trying to find the words you were looking for. He looked absolutely defeated, like everything seemed to come plummeting downwards.

“You, not long ago, said to me that you were speaking as just a man, as my husband. So hear me, I am speaking to you as an ordinary woman, and as your wife. There is no definition of what makes a good man, you are the farthest thing from a saint, but you and I both know this. From birth, we are made to be shells of human beings—people like you and I. Do you wish to know why I am so put off by my title at times? It is because I do not wish to be held at a higher standard than just any other woman. Though, I have no choice, you have told me that much.”

He stayed still, looking at you with an almost unreadable expression. You were choked up, but felt as though he was finally listening. There was more to him than you had ever seen in front of you, his tousled hair and somber features were almost too real. In that moment, you recognized the facade he had been putting on since you arrived in England.

“Our names, the names of our children, and then later on, their children—they will be etched into the columns of history, remembered centuries from now. In two hundred years, you will be remembered, Thomas. Long after we are dead and gone, we will live on. There are very few who can say this, very few who won’t fade into nothing like foggy childhood stories. And in all honesty, I am not just speaking to you as an ordinary, mundane woman—I am speaking to you as a future Queen. We will never just be simple people, we are not made for it, but you will be a King.”

“You said I would not make a good King,” he almost whispered back.

“After everything you said to me two nights ago, I have come to realize that we all lie in moments like those. You have said that you cannot recall anything you mentioned to me, and I am almost certain you did not mean any of it, either. To be fair, I think you will make a good King, Tom.”

He stiffened, like a feeling of guilt had washed over him. You could tell that he wished to say something, but once again stopped himself. This bruised you, after having said all of that to him, he could not even lie about what he was thinking. Apart of you now hoped that he would say he remembered exactly what had happened between the two of you, thinking it would be easier. He said nothing, though. Your words were left hanging in the air, feeling a wave of emotions come over you. He will not see you break, you told yourself.

With this, you turned on your heels and left him standing by the pond. There was nothing more you had to say to him, and clearly nothing he wished to say to you. You stopped for a second, hearing his rustle a bit. When you heard nothing, you only continued on through the gardens. It went by in what seemed like a blur, feeling the tears cloud your vision.

With Tom, you felt as if you were still, unable to think or feel. He was complex, almost unreadable. You could never truly tell what he was feeling, nor what he would do next. It was like talking to a brick wall sometimes, or even staring at yourself in the mirror. While listening to the soft padding of your shoes, you couldn’t seem to get his tired eyes out of your mind.

Had he been crying?

What was he crying about?

In nearly a fortnight, you would be bound by oath to him. While slowly becoming accustomed to the knowledge that there was no way out of this, you couldn’t help but blink away the tears. Something told you he was hurting, that he was not as strong and egotistical as he tried to perceive himself.

You pushed open the door to your room, swallowing hard and wiping away the bit of moisture underneath your eyes. Anne was straightening up, you recognized the graying of her auburn hair. She turned around and gave you a soft smile, curtsying, but frowning when she noticed your silent tears.

“Your Royal Highness, what’s wrong?” She asked somberly, watching as you sat onto your bed sullenly.

“Nothing—nothing, I’m just fine,” you reassured her.

“Ma’am, I have raised four daughters, I am no beginner in this.”

Her natural maternity made sense all of a sudden, her ability to act as a mother. She bashfully accepted your offer for her to sit on the bed. Her hand laid across your own, squeezing it gently as you sniffled.

“He hates me, he absolutely hates me—and I haven’t a clue what I’ve done to deserve any of this,” you stifled out, looking to the opposite wall.

“I have known the Prince since he was born, and I can’t say exactly why he does the things he does, but I can only imagine that it has to do with how he was treated as a boy,” she said, nodding to herself.

“How so?”

“Well—when he was born, of course everyone was absolutely joyous, a Prince, an heir. He was a prize, truly. The Queen was so happy, so excited. His christening was beautiful, he was beautiful. The King was much less agile back then, soon after Prince Thomas was born, he began to drink much heavier. Forgive me, if I am speaking out of turn.”

“No, no. Please, continue,” you told her.

“When Prince Harry and Prince Sam were born, there was not as much of a shock. There was already a future sovereign, though he was only two years old. When the Prince came to be about six or seven, he bucked everything royal. He despised the idea of becoming the King one day, he was temperamental. This made King Dominic quite angry, he had been abusing the bottle for quite some time now. It was quite a surprise when I’d found the Prince locked in one of the broom closets after one of his lessons. He had been in there for over eight hours, crying, clutching to a tattered book.”

You stared at her blankly, eyes wide in surprise. You tried to picture a little version of Tom, forced into a room without food or water for hours on end. You couldn’t. It was hard to imagine that the person you knew today was that same little boy.

“It was dark, and cold. He’d been in there quite late into the night, I just remember his small hands wrapping around my apron. He thanked me profusely, shaking with those tear stained cheeks. This was only the beginning, though. Once he was a bit older, just after Prince Patrick was born, the King was so upset that he hadn’t been blessed with a daughter. Prince Tom was only eight or nine at that point, and it only took one cheeky comment for King Dominic to send a half empty bottle of wine at his head. It was absolutely horrendous, he was lucky he had turned away quick enough. The bottle shattered against the side of his face and back of his head, he was nearly blinded.”

“I’ve realized in time, that the reason he never completely brings his hair out of his face is because of the scar just above his temple,” she added, seemingly biting back tears herself. “It was about two inches long, going back into his hairline as well.”

Your hands sat in your lap stiffly, eyes watering. You had not much liked the King since you arrived, but you could not imagine this treatment towards his own son. It almost pained you to empathize with him, unable to imagine such things Anne was saying.

“It got so terrible at a point, Prince Thomas would be punished for the simplest of things. There were days where he was practically being starved, his mother having no clue. The Prince refused to tell her about any of it, knowing she was going through enough with the young Prince, as well as King Dominic himself.”

“He just let his father continue to do these things?” You asked her in a choked back tone.

“The Prince is as much brave, as he is sometimes intolerable. He cared for his dear mother so much that he stayed silent, he let nothing penetrate his ongoing lie. The worst was when he was just thirteen, though,” she recounted, a single tear falling.

You remembered meeting him for the first time at twelve years old, he was just fourteen at the time. If only you’d have known exactly how hard he’d had it. Of course, you knew that this was no excuse to treat people so terribly, but it reminded you that you never truly know what a person is going through. If you’ve learned anything in the past month, it is that the British monarch remarks themselves on appearing absolutely pristine.

“It was nearly dusk and I was walking down to the kitchen, I heard King Dominic shouting at Prince Thomas from so far. I know it was wrong—but I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. The Prince was in tears, crying for his father to leave him, but he only continued. He said a few of the most disgusting, unforgivable things to that small child that night. Repeatedly, he kept saying to him that he was unlovable, that his mother was disgraced to have such a boy. He told him that he was glad he’d be dead before he’d have to watch his son become King. Worst of all, I think was when I peered through the crack of the door, I saw the Prince practically on his knees, head in his hands. The King brought him up by his shirt and spit in his face and spoke these exact words, ‘you are no son of mine.’”

She dropped her head, you smoothed out your dress, looking up to hopefully stop your silent crying. Anne wiped her own tears generously, looking away and then back to you. She was guilt ridden, but still cupped your cheek gently. There was a moment where you felt loved, seemingly for the first time in weeks, holding her hand there for a moment longer.

“I will never forget the sound of him crying to me that night I found him locked in the closet, ‘Annie, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Annie, I didn’t mean any of it.’”

There was a hollowness in her words. You tried to process the wave of emotions you were feeling, knowing these were probably some of Tom’s deepest secrets. It made you feel anxious, knowing something you weren’t supposed to. You wondered how Anne had managed to stay silent for so long about something so terrible, yet remembered that her job was to the Crown, and that meant keeping quiet sometimes.

She stood up, grazing your cheek with her hand and brushing off her dress. You knew she had to get back to work, that she probably regretted telling you all that she did. You were grateful for her, though. There was something sickening to you, knowing that you could trust no one in Buckingham Palace. You adored your ladies in waiting, as well as Anne, but you knew to be very careful who you spoke to.

Anne briskly wished you a good afternoon, saying goodbye and leaving you to process everything she’d just told you. There was more understanding behind his father’s words after the attempted assassination, you saw so much clearer now.

A knock came, you felt a pang in your chest. Something inside of you hoped that it was Tom at the other side. You quickly stood, making sure to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Swiftly walking over to the door, you grasped the brass handle and pulled it open.

You were met with a figure leaning against the archway of the door, hands in his pockets. You stepped back a few feet, looking up and meeting his eyes in entirety. There was an unknowing feeling in your gut, like you should scream or yell, or do anything really.

“Princess,” Nikolai greeted with a raised eyebrow.

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goldensunflowe-r · 3 years

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Do u have any where Harry hates the reader

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#harry styles #harry #styles #one direction #harrystyles #harry styles fic recs #enemies to lovers

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jarofstyles · 4 years

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King of the Jungle III- Açai*

A/N: Sorry for the wait!! We’ve had lots going on so we haven’t had a chance to write this one, but here is the highly requested continuation of our Tarzan!harry piece. You find out a little bit more about Harry in this one... they do the nasty again 👀but as always, this is all fiction so enjoy ✨✨✨ - n + d send feedback and requests here

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

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pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: mentions of death, smut, primal!kink, squirting 👀

word count: 8k

Y/N’s family had never been keen on a hands on approach to their work. Gorillas are rather territorial and protective creatures and messing with them could have them all get extremely hurt. Instead, Y/N and the crew stayed at a safe distance and collected data. It was more observational, they’d only step in if anyone got hurt.

The whole day Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. She wanted to know more about him and hoped that through speaking with him and showing him things that he would develop at a quicker pace. She hated feeling like she was above him in any way shape or form, but also knew that it was good to keep a safe barrier between the two of them. When Y/N got back to the camp for dinner she decided to do some investigating.

“How long have humans been coming here?” Y/N asked curiously, wondering if people had known about this place for a while or if it was her family that discovered it. “Just wondering because it seems like there are tons of resources here... seems like, like there were people here before you know?” Y/N didn’t want to blow her cover, no. Maybe tomorrow she could go to Harry’s tree house and see how it was that he knew English. Maybe have him tell her more? Part of her didn't want to push him too hard, but she really did need answers. It was the only way she could help him.

“Well let’s see….30 years ago,” Her father spoke, “there was a plane crash off the coast, think it had something to do with British Royals.”

It made Y/N’s eyes widen, “thirty years ago you said?” She gulped as he nodded and decided she’d relax her mind a bit before she jumped to any conclusions.

“Yes. But I doubt anyone made it to shore... must have been miles off the coast.”

Y/N spent the rest of dinner just thinking, watching as everyone slowly began to make their way to sleep but Y/N sat up by the fire using the wifi they had to read up on the plane crash. It made sense, but... if there was a minimal chance for survival and it was a Royal family, they would have still looked their hardest. Something didn’t seem right about it but she’d get to the bottom of it. Her eyes began to hurt and she was about to get up and get into her cozy tent, but she heard a soft feet landing somewhere to the left of her and rustling leaves. She rushed to get something to defend herself, stepping closer to her tent to at least hide from whatever it was.

“Shh.” Harry whispered. Watching the camp often enough, he knew that this was her tent. He was warm from the air outside and of excitement to see his Y/N. “Did not... mean to scare.” He spoke slowly, softly. He gently took her hand and pulled her toward him, picking her up with little to no effort. He silently escaped the camp, smiling when she squealed when he hopped over fallen logs and weaved through trees, stopping at his camp. He gently put her down, kissing her cheeks. “My home.” He pointed up towards the treehouse. “Climb up? Please?” He had heard that and then looked it up in his dictionary, it was a request but nicer.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, a smile forming in her lips as she realized it was in fact Harry who had come to her camp. She wasn’t sure what was happening but before she knew it he had picked her up and began on his way into the jungle. “Harry!” She squealed, noticing how quick and bumpy the ride was because it was so dark already. “Where are we—” She looked up at the tree, noticing he had some light coming from it. Wondered how he managed to get fire but she figured he had found plenty of resources, especially when her family came to camp. “Up this?” She furrowed her brows, looking at the vine curiously. It was rather dark, but she could still see him thanks to the moon. Y/N wasn’t all that strong, she didn’t think she could pull herself up on the vines enough to get to the bamboo ladder that was placed on the second landing of the tree. She was getting somewhere, but Harry had to step in to help of course. “Thank you.” She giggled as she finally got the hang of it and made it to the top.

It was bigger than it looked from the ground. “Wow.” She smiled, looking around and seeing that the source of light were lamps that she recognized from her family’s camp. Fire in a tree would be dangerous, so he of course found the solar power ones. It was smart on his part. A warm yellow glow filled the room, illuminating the rather large bed he had and of course his little makeshift desk that had plenty of items she recognized on it. Even some books.

“It’s very lovely.”

Harry had set up his bed for them to lay down and talk. He had been practicing speaking all day when she had gone back to the camp to eat and relax.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Practice talking. With... talking box.” He walked over to it and picked it up. “Learn from it.” He placed it back down and walked back over to her. His book had been of help too, and the lucky fact that he was insanely brilliant in his own head. “Missed seeing Y/N.” He said softly, feeling the sides of her face. “Don’t like leaving.” He almost had it. He didn’t like her leaving him. “Want to learn more. From Y/N.” He wanted to learn the words for the things they did and wanted to speak as easily as she did as well. Y/N was so brilliant and so smart. He was in shock at just how smart she was. Granted that wasn’t hard to do to him but, he was incredibly grateful that she was happy enough to hang around him.

“Is that a radio?” Y/N furrowed her brows, smiling softly as she noticed what he had picked up. “Talking box... that’s cute.” She giggled, more so to herself than anything else really. “I think it’s really great that you practice... you’re getting better every time I see you.” Y/N cooed up at him, she was careful with not touching him affectionately because she was so worried he’d get even more attached. Clearly that wasn’t working though. “You missed me?” Y/N questioned, leaning into his touch involuntarily. He really was lonely. “Don’t like me leaving, you mean?” She asked again, just wanting to clarify and maybe teach him to word things better. His pronunciation was coming out very British, she assumed because of the radio.

“Mum, Dad. Built home.” Harry motioned around. “Evil killed.” His face dropped when he pointed to the jaguar skin he put on the floor after replacing the bottom of his bed with the better blankets for her. “I killed too.”

“You killed the jaguar? By yourself?” Y/N’s eyes were wide, she couldn’t believe he had that much strength. To fight off and kill a wild animal? That would mean Harry had ridiculous amounts of survival skills. Mankind really were on the top of the food chain. “Do you have any scars?” She asked, curiously picking up his arms to look over them and letting her hands run over his chest to see if there were any bumps.

“Yes. Only me.” Harry nodded pointing to the skins. He hadn’t had anyone out here besides the gorillas but he had learned to fend for himself very well. “Scars?” He watched as she brushed past the mark he got when he had accidentally cut his hand on the knife when making a new fire stick. “Oh. Yes.” He had them all over. His arms and hands the most but some on his back. “I... am trying.” He was hesitant because he wanted to speak right. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Y/N. It was a feeling he hadn't ever felt before. “Happy you are here.” He said again cohesively which was a pretty good thing for him. “Want to talk. Try.” He motioned to the bed. Harry just wanted to be around her. Y/N was a source of comfort for him.

“Wow.” She spoke genuinely, looking at his expression and seeing that he was waiting for a reaction from her or a response rather. “You’re very strong.” Y/N complimented, giving him a smile as her hands went up to squeeze at his biceps. Though he killed a beast with his bare hands you’d never guess by the way he treated her, so soft and gentle. “But don’t be embarrassed.” She pouted, noticing how he had started to coil back up into himself after struggling to find words. “If you need me to slow down when I speak or explain, that’s okay..” Y/N smile and let herself pet his hair gently, pushing it back behind his ear. Y/N moved to sit down on the bed, surprised at how soft and comfortable it was. He had blankets that looked pretty fresh, giggling because he definitely stole these from her camp and she had been looking for them. She didn’t mind though, he needed them more than she did. “I’m happy to be here... take your time. You’re doing great, monkey.”

“Monkey?” Harry tilted his head In question. “Not monkey. Human.” He pointed at himself. He knew that much. That’s what the books had said and what the people at the camp had called themselves. At least that’s what he had thought. “Soft? Good for Y/N?” Harry did worry if Y/N would like where he rested, but she seemed to like it quite a bit when she folded her legs up and watched him walk around. She was beautiful. Sitting there in his sleeping quarters, he was beyond amazed at how perfect she seemed. Sitting there with big eyes looking up at him. “Missed you. Wanted... wanted to learn more. So, I listen to the talking box. Read. So we can talk.” Harry pieced together the sentence better than he had before. “Do not talk much.” Usually he wasn’t with company. “Alone, most of time.”

“Yes, you are a human.” Y/N giggled, “but I call you monkey, because it’s cute.” She explained and realized the concept of pet names was one that was probably hard to understand. “See, when you like someone and think they’re attractive or just care about them, we refer to each other by names that are soft and sweet...” Y/N hoped it made sense, “like... baby or sweetheart or angel... monkey.” Once comfortable on the bed she nodded, “Yes, it's good. Softer than I thought.” Y/N cooed and patted beside herself so that he could come and sit with her. It was really cute how he tried really hard to speak with her and listened to the radio to try and pick up on words. He really did seem to like her and it warmed her heart. “The talking box..” She said softly, looking over to see he had a solar powered radio. “This is called a Radio.” Y/N told him, “you listen to the radio and practice?” She smiled fondly and felt her heart get all warm and fuzzy. “You’re doing very well, harry.” She told him, pushing a few pieces of hair away from his face so she could see his eyes better. “I’m sorry you get lonely... wish I could spend more time with you.”

Harry liked the touch. She felt warm and soft and her touches made him want to hide himself in her neck and stay there for a while. Still, he felt a little unsure while he got to know her. Y/N was new. Someone he wanted, yes. But new.

“Ray—dee oh?” He scrunched his nose. He liked talking box better but, if that’s what it was called. Fine. Y/N knew best didn’t she? Either way, he would call it banana if it pleases her. He wanted to do more of that kiss stuff. That had pleasured him greatly. “Want to do good.” He admitted softly. His hair had grown out so it was in his face but she liked it back, it appeared. Harry liked seeing her clearly like that. “Fun, today. Did not want you to go.” He frowned slightly. Y/N had to leave and he knew that she had to go to her people but Harry wanted more time. “Kiss is fun.”

Y/N nodded her head at how well he pronounced it, “Yes, radio. Very good.” Y/N praised him and let out a chuckle. “If you want to call it a talking box that’s okay too, I understand.” She told him, just wanting him to be comfortable around her. Y/N understood that he wasn’t always going to be able to learn new words, he was trying his best. “You do well Harry, you really do. I’m very happy that you’re learning. I want to help.” Y/N told him genuinely, wanting to bring him back some more basic picture books to work with so that he could learn what things were. Associate the visual with the word. Y/N was surprised when he brought up the kissing, seeing that it must have stuck with him since he was so keen on knowing what it was and how to ask for it. “Kissing is fun.” Y/N smiled, nodding her head. “Is that why you wanted me to come here then? You want to kiss me more?” She asked, knowing that a guy from back home wouldn’t get away with it if he admitted it, but Harry would. He didn’t have any negative intentions, he just liked spending time with her and experiencing this new sensation. It was endearing really, how much he liked her and wanted to spend time with her.

“Yes but— not only why.” Harry didn’t just want to kiss her. He did want to do a lot of it but he liked being around her a lot. “Y/N feels... nice?” He wasn’t sure if he was articulating the right thing or saying what he meant but it seemed like he may be. “Warm, soft.” He placed his hand on her face and stroked. “Belly feels nice.” He furrowed his brow. Y/N seemed to get it though her face turned a soft pink. He felt happy and aroused near her and wanted to continue his touches and loving on her. “Talk... tell stories?” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek like he had before at the waterfall. “And kiss. It is nice.”

Y/N felt butterflies erupted in her own stomach at his words. Harry didn’t know much about human interaction and yet he was describing what the beginning stages of a relationship were like with no effort whatsoever. Her cheeks felt hot, her heart fluttering as his hand came to stroke over her cheek.

“We can do whatever you want to do, yeah?” She cooed, feeling all giddy because she did very much have a crush on him. She was extremely endeared, “lay down.” Y/N spoke softly, laying down and pulling the blanket over her body comfortably. She made some space for him, immediately cuddling into him once he was cozy beside her. “Tell me about you... what do you remember about being here? How did you get here? How did you survive?” Y/N asked curiously, gently tracing over the skin on his chest and stomach. She wanted to know more, all the details.

“Well....” Harry sighed, feeling the fingers on his body making him relax. “Small. Was very small... went on holiday.” He remembered that word clearly. It was such a vivid memory. “On boat, when it rained. Lots of rain— waves are huge.” He swallowed thickly. “Swallowed up. Woke up here. Mum and Dad... built this home. Was small, but dad helped me learn.” Luckily his father had been Royal and military trained so he had been lucky to have packed all the supplies and necessities for at least a few weeks. “Dad knew lots. Knew... how to kill meat.” He had taught Harry. Knowing it had to have been a set up from enemy forces, he knew that they’d be stuck a while. “Mum showed how to... make coverings.” He showed his fur covers. “Took leftover coverings from camp later.” That’s what she had called it but, he took pants from there when it got cold. More like boxers but he didn’t know better. “Hard at first. But... hard to remember.” As he spoke it got easier to piece things together. His voice was raspy and dark. “That evil... killed mum and dad. I hid.” He said sadly. “I killed later.”

Y/N listened, trying to piece together the story and follow along though it was difficult at times. She got that his family was going somewhere and maybe there was a storm? They set up camp here, which was very smart and well, Harry did say his father was really good at that. Y/N was happy that he had a mother and father growing up, even if it was just for a little while. He probably had no concept of age, but he seemed to remember vividly. Must have been at least 10 if he still remembered this much, of course it was a traumatic event in his life, he certainly would forget a lot.

“I’m sorry you were alone for so long.” Y/N spoke softly, letting one of her hands play with his hair as they laid comfortably under the blanket. It was very warm, she could tell he was very good at survival and knew what he needed to do to have basic things. “It was a while ago, I’m sure...” Y/N let out a breath. “How did you kill the evil?” She asked, knowing that she couldn’t exactly refer to the jaguar as such because it would be disrespectful in a way. “How did you learn?” It was truly impressive how he managed to do all of this on his own, but maybe he learned to interact with other animals and adapt. “I’m surprised no one else found you before me.... you’ve been here all the time?” Y/N asked curiously.

“I hide. Good at keeping quiet.” Harry nodded. He was. Light on his feet, good at keeping himself camouflaged. “Learned from watching people. They kill small things— sharp sticks.” He pointed to the corner with the sticks he attached carved stone heads to. “Fought me— gave these marks.” He showed the claw mark on his chest, right over his pec that was fully healed. “But worth it. It is gone, can not hurt anyone.” He knew there were other of them— but they kept to themselves. Didn’t bother Harry or his family here. “My family— you watch.” He murmured. “Touch the books with sticks.” He meant writing. He couldn’t write. He could read, but writing was lost on him now, his brain had gone into survival mode even if he was quite brilliant. “I watched you. Beautiful... made me want to know. Let you see me.” She wouldn’t have seen him if he hadn’t let her.

“Your family?” Y/N furrowed her brows and then she realized. “The gorillas!” She gasped in surprise, her eyes full of wonder. “Oh that’s lovely.” Y/N smiled to herself, knowing that gorillas formed bonds with humans rather quickly if in the correct environment. Y/N had a few gorillas back home at the sanctuary that she was really close with, since she was little really. Gorillas were very caring and gentle to young ones, so it made sense that they had taken Harry under their wing. “Yes we watch them and take notes to make sure they are okay and healthy. We want to make sure they aren’t in any danger. Other humans they... they aren’t as nice.” Y/N explained though she was sure that he knew all about that. “We have gorillas where I’m from too that we saved from scary places. They are my friends.” She smiled up at him. To think he had watched her and she didn’t even know. He thought she was beautiful and wanted her to notice him. It made her heart go soft. “You did?” Y/N blushed, letting her hand go up to cup his cheek. “You’re so cute.” She told him, looking at him so fondly, he had no idea how wholesome and pure he was. She wanted to protect him for as long as she could.

“You? Friends with... like my family?” Harry raised his brow. They were more the same than he had thought. Y/N liked his family! That was so nice. He had been worried. Some people were scared of them, that he had heard of. There was no reason to fear unless you were harming.

“I thought Y/N is very pretty. Wanted to see closer.” He didn’t feel shame in admitting that. “Never seen anyone like you.” She was gorgeous. “Make me feel funny. Good.” Weird in a good way. His stomach would get hot and he wanted to be close and to touch her often. “Saw first night. Lots of noise so, went to see. Then you were there.” He smiled. “Always men. Never people like you.”

Y/N nodded her head, “Yes! Creatures like your family, I’m friends with back home.” She explained it in terms he would understand. “I’m not sure if your family would like me... we would have to be careful. Because people at the camp don’t know that I know you.” Y/N wanted to do her best to protect Harry, he was a very vulnerable person and she didn’t want to risk anyone taking advantage of him. “Thank you... you make me feel like that too.” Y/N admitted to him, felt like it was okay to let him know that he made her feel all soft and giddy as well. She had a lot of care for him already, that was for sure. “My father, he comes every year with his team... I asked if I could come this year.” Y/N explained, “He doesn’t really think women are safe in the jungle, but I’m here to prove him wrong.” Y/N wondered if Harry found her so attractive because he had never seen another woman before in his life or if he genuinely was attracted to her, she wasn’t sure, but she was flattered. “There are lots of people like me where we are from... lots of men and women... and children.” Y/N explained softly, she wished she could show him her world.

“Lots?” He was curious. Harry loved his jungle. So much. But he was often curious... what the outside world had to offer. He knew there were more people but he didn’t know how many. “You are the best.” He knew that much. Y/N was the best person. He didn’t have to meet anyone else to know. “It is dangerous. But... I will keep safe.” He would watch her from his hidden trees. Y/N wasn’t going to be hurt on his watch. If it meant he had to follow her around then he would. He decided he wanted to kiss her a little— so he adjusted them so he could kiss her neck. It was something he had known she had liked a lot beforehand so he was excited to give her what she liked in that sense. “Teach more? What Y/N likes.”

“Lots.... all different kinds of people. Different sizes and colors, the world is a beautiful place. So much to learn, so much food to eat, places to explore.” Y/N really loved the world, exploring, and traveling. “I wish I could show you...” She spoke out loud, realizing that might have been a thought she should have kept to herself. Y/N wasn’t exactly sure if she could or if he would be willing to go with her to do so. “Oh, I’m not the best...” Y/N shook her head, “thank you though, I’m glad you think so.” She hummed as he shifted their bodies so he was properly kissing on her neck. Goosebumps covered her skin, her body melting against his and suddenly she wished that she too was as naked as Harry was. She enjoyed feeling his skin this morning. “Teach you more?” Y/N asked, letting out a shaky breath. “What do you mean?” She could tell that he probably meant I’m this sexual type of way, but she wanted to be sure. The last thing Y/N wanted to do was push him into doing things he didn’t want to do.

“More. Anything.” Harry murmured against her skin. He wasn’t one to push back from learning, especially not when it meant he could make this beautiful example of a woman feel good. “Want to make you... feel good. Like at waterfall.” Harry knew she had felt good like he did. “Want to learn to make you feel like we did.” He knew she had rubbed against him. That she had seemed to enjoy it and he wanted to do more of it. To make her make the pretty noises. “Off?” He wanted the top off. It was a smaller covering, smoother, but he wanted to see her chest again. Wanted to touch. “Can touch more?”

Y/N felt her eyes flutter shut at the realization that he did in fact mean he wanted to learn more sexually. He wanted to make her feel good. She truly had never heard those words come from a man before and she wondered if maybe this was what primal men were like. They genuinely wanted to care for their partners and please them. Oh how times have changed.

“Okay, yes... we can do that.” She breathed, moving to take her top off so that he could have more access to her chest. Y/N decided she’d remove her pants as well, figuring that she might as well. “You can touch wherever.” She told him, “Whatever you want to do... I’ll help you if you need me to, but just... do what you feel.” She knew that his primal instincts would take over the way they did at the waterfall, knew what his curiosity would take over and leave her all breathy and whiny. Enough for him to realize that she was enjoying every bit of it.

Harry felt a whole lot. When it came to Y/N he wanted to worship her whole being in this bed, kiss every inch of her. So with her permission, he decided to explore. He kissed down her neck, moving so that she was underneath him. Her chest called to him, his body aching to touch them— so he did. Kissing between the valley, he licked the warm skin between them. The soft little whimper was a reward, so he continued to kiss over the swell of the breasts. Warm and soft, he was obsessed with the feeling of her. Of how she arched into his mouth. Placing his lips over the little bud, he kissed it. Seemingly, it was sensitive for her as she let out a gasp. He was learning— pausing to see if it was a good or bad gasp.

Y/N’s whole body began to tingle with each kiss Harry placed against his skin. Normally, she wasn’t so reactive but knowing that each and every kiss he placed he thought through made her that much more responsive. It was the intention behind it all that was getting her all hot.

“H-harry...” Her breath hitched when he kissed at her nipple, meeting his eyes only to be met with a curious look. He was so smart, taking her cues incredibly well but it was natural instinct. “Do that again... use your tongue, lick it.” She spoke softly, giving him a suggestion because surely he would want to know about that. Her mind was already gone, thinking about what on earth she was going to do when he reached her pussy. Y/N has a feeling that it wouldn’t be able to control herself, she would leak all over and make a mess and he wouldn’t even have to try all that hard. His genuine curiosity and desire to make her feel good was what was getting her going. She would show him that she too could pleasure him... maybe eventually show him they could do it together. But the apes did that didn’t they? Harry would know.

Harry took the direction, licking over it slowly. Her hand held his hair and showed him that yes— she did quite like it. It was exciting to him too, his body warming up quite a bit as he got into the groove. It felt instinctual. Like his body was the one who just knew exactly what to do and when to do it. He loved it. So he didn’t hesitate when gently sucking one of the buds into his mouth. Perfect. She pulled his head closer, so he suckled a bit harder. Moving a hand to the other side, he stroked over her naked side, watching her body warm up to him and open up. Y/N liked his mouth on her, he was learning. Pulling off, he didn’t mind the string of spit left as he moved to go to the other side. She deserved all the pleasure he could give her and it seemed like she was hoping for more.

Y/N felt her cunt begin to throb. He didn’t need much direction and the very sight of him was doing her in. Harry seemed focused and intrigued, like he wanted to make sure each bit of her got the most attention that it could possibly get. She moaned out in pleasure, her hand naturally moving his head closer to her because she really did just want more of him and his mouth all over her body. She couldn’t exactly explain that either.

“That’s nice...” Y/N breathed out, her body naturally pushing up against his because she loved the feeling of his skin against hers. “More... please.” She whimpered, getting a bit too worked up now because the energy in this building up between them. It was unspoken, but the look in his eyes and the way his mouth and hands worked on her unlocked a whole new feeling she had never felt before.

Harry nodded, moving his fingers down her body. Kissing down, down, down her stomach. Each of her hips. It seemed that the further down he got, the more excited she was, hips twitching up and her hands leading him further. He settled between her legs, opening up her thighs. A delicious smell was coming from her, and he bathed in it while he kissed the warmest parts of her inner thighs. Between her legs was no member like his own. Rather a smaller opening, a little mound that he was enamored by. He watched her face for confirmation, and she looked almost eager to get him there— so he began to kiss over the softness right above the mound.

“Here?” He asked quietly, running his fingers over the fold. Hm. Wet.

Y/N was incredibly aroused and from the look he gave her, he could tell. Her whimpers were a dead give away as well but the kiss to the top of her mound made her shudder. He didn’t realize how much he was actually teasing her, pussy throbbed as his fingers ran over the folds.

“Mhm..” She hummed, moving her hand down to guide his momentarily. “Right— here...” Y/N’s breath shook as she moved his fingers over her clit. “That spot feels very good..” She explained to him knowing that he too had a spot on his cock that made him quiver in the same way. He looked like he knew what she meant. She would move on to showing him what his fingers could do as well, but for now she knew he’d have a lot of fun licking her up. Maybe he would get curious and stick his fingers in on his own? Hell, he would surely want to stick his cock in the second he found out about it.

Harry wanted to make her feel the best he possibly could. But it was amazing to see how Y/N was opening up to him and spreading her legs, inviting him to kiss her down there. When he looked up she just gave him the heated eyes and he couldn’t stop himself. He kissed over the sensitive spot she had pointed out, wetting his lips with her. But after licking them clean, he was hooked. His eyes darkened, a low groan leaning his throat as he got a taste. Settling between her thighs, he laid his tongue flat and licked up the length of the folds, feeling her shake a little bit at the attention he was giving her. But it tasted so good. That was all it took, really. Harry hadn’t been taught manners or anything of that sort. So he didn’t hesitate to spread her thighs open farther, more aggressive, and lick harder and deeper between her cunt. He was trying to get every drop of the sweet taste on his tongue. It was apparent Y/N liked it, her hands gripping his hair and tilting her hips towards his mouth, he was finding that she loved when he licked a bit harder. His tongue finding that little bump she showed him, that had her going crazy, flicking his tongue over it. He didn’t care if his face was messy— he was enjoying this.

“H-harry!” Y/N moaned, her back arching up while her hips tried to both push in and away from him at the same time. The look in Harry’s eyes was needy and barbaric. Before she could even blink he was diving in full force, licking into her wetness like it was the last meal he would ever eat. She didn’t direct him to do that, he simply just did it. Y/N swore Harry was better at eating pussy than any man she had ever met. So quick to pick up on the fact that her clit was the spot that made her moan the loudest and frankly, he was merciless. She could cry at the intensity of the pleasure, he didn’t know how sensitive the bud was, but she didn’t want him to stop. No, she was fully prepared for the eruption that was building within her. Thank goodness she was far enough from the camp because she felt she was moaning so loud the whole jungle would hear her. Maybe she wanted everyone to know she was being pleasured by the king of the jungle. He seemed to react well to her sounds too, could tell his cock was hard just from the way he grunted against her.

Harry never felt like this before. He felt so.... needy. Out of his mind with the need to pleasure his woman. Yeah, that was a thing, too. He was considering Y/N to be his. This was his property. His territory. He pulled her up and into his mouth, suckling on the sensitive little nub that had her moaning and tugging hard at his hair. He wasn’t sure what the end result he wanted was, he just knew that he wanted her to make the same noises and to shake like she had beforehand. When she tried to pull away, a flash of territorial possessiveness went through him as he pulled her back, muttering a growly “Mine” at her, sucking harder at the folds to bring the point home.

Y/N had only ever squirted once before.

She was masturbating for hours, decided that no matter how much it hurt or felt like she was going to pee, she’d keep going. It definitely worked, a small patch on her bed had been covered with clear liquid and she couldn’t believe she’d managed to do it.

With the way Harry was sucking on her clit so harshly, she wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t squirt all over his face. She wanted to at least warn him, but anytime she tried to pull away he only pulled her closer. mine. He said she was his. Y/N let out a long moan at that, panting at this point because she knew she couldn’t hold back much longer. Her body was twitching, hips moving to try and get away but his hands firmly kept her in place and refused to move. “I’m—” Y/N’s words got stuck in her throat, she physically could speak, she couldn’t get the words out. Her body simply reacted to his actions, cunt gushing out warm clear liquid all over his face and tongue without warning. The scream of pleasure came afterwards, she felt herself breathing heavily as he continued to lick her up. She was still sensitive, still letting out whimpers but he didn’t stop licking. Her body was fragile and shaking, but it felt so good.

Harry knew something good had happened. She had released on his face— and he loved it. A satisfied groan was let out as he cleaned her up, feeling like that’s what he was supposed to do. She throbbed against his tongue, and twitched slightly with what he thought to be a bit too much sensitivity— so he pulled back and licked around the outer part, cleaning whatever he could.

“Good.” He purred, pulling up to pressing his mouth to hers. His cock rested against the delicious mound he had just devoured, a bit of relief given when he rubbed against it— but he was focused on kissing her. Y/N didn’t seem to mind at all, legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed her deeper than he had before. Feeling a bit more liberated, he was thriving in this new environment.

Y/N happily kissed him back though she was out of breath, letting out a moan against his lips. She was so satisfied, just as she had been that same morning. Harry seemed to pick up quickly on his primal instincts and it made sex so much better. He has no societal constructs stopping him from getting down and properly dirty, he was just ready and willing and it turned her on way more than she thought it would. She could feel his hard cock on her and she was reminded that he had yet to feel pleasure like she had. He had never fucked a woman, but she had a feeling he’d be incredible at it.

“Harry..” Y/N cooed against his lips, “can I show you something?” She asked with a small hum. Her hand moved down to collect some of her wetness, wrapping her hand around his cock and jerking it slightly before looking up at him. She kept eye contact with him, slipping him inside of her with a moan of her own that spilled out.

This was nothing like Harry had ever experienced before. She had placed him inside of her. And it was.... indescribable. Wet, warm, the tightest thing he had ever felt, and clenching around him. Squeezing. He was in shock. His mouth hung open as she hummed. However, he waited for no instructions, moving his hips forward as if he had done this all before. He slipped deeper inside of her and it had the both of them groaning. Her hands held his shoulders and nails gripped his skin but the bite felt so good. So he repeated it, thrusts getting faster by the minute. Pulling out a bit more and thrusting harder. It was sending white hot pleasure all over his body as he began to steadily fuck into her, grunting as he did so. This was his. Everything about this was instinct, which took over almost immediately as he began to go harder. Y/N was a mess underneath him, moaning and whimpering as he got deeper into her. Legs around his waist and the wetness audible with every time he pushed in, it was something he was obsessed with. This felt so real.

“Holy fuck— Harry!” Y/N let out a throaty moan. She didn’t know how else to describe it other than she felt like this is what she was meant to do. It was as if Harry fucking into her was her destiny and he truly was rocking her world. She was slick around him and she began clenching at the perfect time so he could get the optimum experience. That’s what he deserved after all. The poor man had been jerking off for god knows how long and he deserved a proper pussy to fuck, one that could take his big cock and milk him completely of his cum whenever he wanted. The faces and sounds coming from him were incredibly arousing and she could hear just how raw the desire was. Y/N had come to find out she loved the primal element of it all. He just fucked into her hard because he wanted to, driving his cock deep into her with such urgency to a point where she could feel him in her stomach. She kissed at his neck, biting down a bit because she remembered just how much he had liked it and made sure to give him one of those high pitched sexy moans that seemed to get him the most riled up. When she bit down on his neck and gave him that moan, that’s when Harry seemed to lose himself in it.

Properly pounding her out, Y/N wouldn’t shut up in terms of moaning and Harry's body was slamming into hers. He was thriving off of it, growling loudly into her neck as he found that he did indeed belong inside of her. This was what he was meant to do, wasn’t it! It was to be in her, fucking her deep and thoroughly.

“Mine.” He growled again, taking hold of her hair and yanking it back in the heat of the moment, biting gently on her jaw. Not harsh enough to leave a mark but enough to sting. He continued the love nips to her neck, sucking right behind her ear because it had gotten the highest moan from her. His hips were moving fast and hard and she was clawing up his back but it felt incredible. Y/N was his. “Mine. Belong to me.” He hissed again into her skin. She had to know that. Pulling back, he pressed his face to hers. “Say it.” He wanted to hear it from her mouth.

Y/N couldn’t keep quiet, she felt embarrassed almost at how much noise she was making. She’d never been that fucking loud before but Harry was really bringing it out of her. They ranged from low and growly to high and strained, everything you could imagine really, she was producing. When he gripped her hair and growled at her she swore she could have nutted right then and there, seeing his eyes completely dark and full of lust. He was properly territorial and dominant over her and her pussy seemed endlessly wet. How the hell would she leave after this? She’d live in the jungle for the rest of her life if it meant pleasure like this.

“Y-yours.” Y/N choked out, looking into his eyes, her own blown with desire and true submission. She really meant it when she said it, she was his. He was fucking her the way she was meant to be fucked, rough and needy. “I belong to you.”

That got a smile of approval from Harry. Yes. She knew that she was his and that much was amazing. Y/N would be his. How he would make her stay, or keep him— he didn’t know. Wasn’t thinking that far ahead. But he did know he wanted to be inside of her all the time.

“Yes. good.” He purred against her mouth, feeling himself close to that ending point. That point where he would make a mess but he couldn’t bring himself to pull out of the wet warmth that surrounded him. It was the most amazing feeling he had ever felt in his life. “Yes. yes.” He hissed when she clenched around him, biting her bottom lip as he thrusted as deep as possible. Harry wanted to cum, but didn’t know what to call it. Harry growled again, not knowing what to say— but it didn’t seem to matter to her as she pulled up, legs wrapped around his waist and letting him get as deep as he wanted while he allowed himself to cum inside of her.

“Yes, cum for me...” Y/N moaned, feeling her own body begin to twitch. The coil that had built up in her stomach came undone all over again. With her own string of loud moans Y/N came around his cock, squeezing around him as a result. Penetrative sex took time to make her cum, but Harry so naturally was able to do it. She allowed him to cum inside of her, noting that she had brought her birth control pills and took them on time so she wouldn’t get pregnant. As weird as it sounded though, she was willing to risk it all for him in all honesty. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she felt bonded with him now and didn’t want to let him go. She’d find a way to bring him back, she had to. Y/N kissed all over his neck and shoulders, moving to kiss at his jaw and cheek and eventually lips when he turned his head to face her. Her hands moved to cup his cheeks, allowing the hair to stay back as she watched his eyes with a smile on her face. This was bliss.

Harry didn’t know what that was. But he wanted it over and over and over again. He wanted all of it, he wanted to be inside of her every day if that was a thing. He didn’t know, but he was in heaven. He kissed her back over and over.

“Beautiful... my Y/N.” He murmured against her lips. “Perfect.” Never has he known what perfection was but Y/N was as close to it as he had ever come to. The release had felt so good, he felt like he was floating in the best way. He didn’t want to leave her, so he used his strength to flip them. She was on top now, Harry pulling the blankets to cover them.

Y/N squeaked a bit as he flipped them over, feeling extremely sensitive still from how intense it was. She needed time to recover evidently but Harry seemed so quick to want to do it again. He had just found out about the wonders of sex, she truly couldn’t deny him. Not when he was that good.

“What was... that?” Harry asked softly. What was the incredible feeling? The act they’d just done? “Can do more? Later?”

“We just had sex.” Y/N said in a gentle tone, petting his hair to soothe him. “Feels good?” She asked with a small giggle, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Sometimes, people call it fucking. But that’s naughty.” She told him, “but I think you like naughty.”

Y/N would answer any questions he had, would teach him anything he wanted to know because she really just wanted to be able to converse with him like she would with anyone else. He was so interesting and probably had loads of stories and things to share he simply just didn’t know how to express it.

What was she meant to do now?

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A/N: soooo, what do we think? 👀 - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #jarofstyles #tarzan!harry #tarzan!h

1K notes · View notes

arigatouiris · 5 years

Text

red right hand // t.h [00]

pairing: 1920s mob!tom holland x f!reader

warnings: swearing, violence, sexual references, mafia au!, mentions of ptsd, trauma, anxiety attacks, a dash of sexism, angst, slow burn, alcohol and smoking mentioned

word count: 2033

a/n: heavily inspired from this show i’ve been watching, the peaky blinders. so there’s a lot of information about tunneling during the war. this story is set in 1920 and the hollands are over 20 years of age. all of it is fictionized, i’m merely using the hollands’ names and faces for the story’s progression. reader is obviously british (but in the 1900′s so she can be irish if you want her to be or anyone from great britain) hope ya’ll like it~

if you want to be on the taglist, just send an ask or drop a reply~

Prologue

▾

In 1920, organized crime ran rampant all over Great Britain.

It wasn’t just in robberies and bookmaking, but there were several other types of meandering crimes that were left unattended by the police (otherwise known as the copper by the locals) because a great amount of money was involved. Assault, extortion, fraud, murder, fencing, hooliganism, bribery, smuggling (of goods, contraband and often drugs), and hijacking were some of the crimes that came under the organization of urban street gangs that ran its party in London around the time. Several areas in Britain such as Birmingham, Liverpool, Wales, and Ireland had gangs that dominated the district with some or the other mentioned crimes.

However, there was only one urban street gang that took precedence over all the others. The Londoners. Originated as a mere illegal bookmaking agency (one of the several in London), the Holland family ran their vigilant control over a minor part of London, near the Thames. They came to be known as the Londoners because they were all from London, they were not too big on names.

Unlike other gangs that had a marginal male authoritative figure who was standalone in making decisions related to organized crime, the Hollands were different. While the older boys in the Holland family—Thomas, Sam, and Harry were off in the war, it was the matriarch Nicola (or Nikki, as called by the rest of the family), who ran the command. She wasn’t cold, but stern—her sternness gave her an aura of intimidation but people would often trust her because of this charm. A dangerous glint in her eye when she ran business, and when turmoil would strike, Nikki often had enough fire to fight back each time.

When the boys left for war, they were mere children. Thomas “Tommy” Holland, the eldest of four boys, was known for his charm and wit—too much like his mother and carrying only the good traits his father left behind, Tom made a fine leader who never succumbed to greed or malicious threat making. Tommy’s cherished possessions were his family, he wasn’t one to give in to hedonistic pleasures like his younger sibling Sam, and he wasn’t a glass-hearted lover like his other sibling Harry. Tommy was gifted with great looks, and most of all, he had a warm kindness in him that went unmatched with any other urban gang leader.

Sam and Harry, twins, were younger than Tommy and sometimes proved it. They were playful, boys were often that way when young and unmonitored; unburdened with running a business or having to worry about the throes of industrialized London. While Sam wasn’t too interested in women that often, he enjoyed the richness money gave him, the pleasures of which he would bury himself under; some would comment behind his back, (as people often do), that he would bury himself in fancy things because he was devoid of the love of a father when young. Not many knew if this was the case. Harry loved women and children, but women more particularly so; but he had a weak heart that often fell too fast and hard for the wrong people. Before the war, Harry had a lover he thought he would spend the rest of his life with (despite hearing from so many others that this lover of his had other lovers).

But, while things were fun and dandy before the war, war changes boys into broken men. Thomas, Sam, and Harry were tunnelers. Tunnel warfare was not uncommon to Great Britain at the time, but it was indeed one of the most dangerous. It changed a man into something he could never change back from, and the boys who were placed there under no one’s command never saw the end of the tunnel that they were digging. It affected Thomas the most, while his entire intention was to protect his younger twin brothers.

Mining saw a brief resurgence as a military tactic during the First World War, when army engineers attempted to break the stalemate of trench warfare by tunneling under no man's land and laying large quantities of explosives beneath the enemy's trenches. As in siege warfare, tunnel warfare was possible due to the static nature of the fighting. Working in cold, cramped conditions, miners worked in 6- or 12-hour rotating shifts. Miners were prone to illness, with high rates of trench foot and bad food disease, while fatigue compounded the situation, creating a high mortality rate. The miners also had to cope with difficult circumstances when they entered the mining tunnels. Often the tunnels were dark, small and flooded with water. Tunnellers were billeted quite a long way back from the front line, while a regular Royal Navy-style rum ration was issued to keep out the cold.

However long it took for them to fight as tunnelers, the Hollands returned home safe and sound, albeit physically. One of the nights, the tunnels intersected with the enemy trench, giving way for the Hollands to be under attack. Nightmares of the incident still haunt the three brothers, but Thomas more than the rest. At night, he could hear the sound of shovels against rock slowly creeping toward him, depriving him of sleep.

The person that Tom was when he returned came as a shock to his mother, Nikki. She was used to seeing him smile more, laugh and be presentable. He would never shy away from a conversation and wasn’t so secretive. But, she understood that war kills boys—war had no place for people who wanted to be mentally healthy, it was a darkness that you choose selflessly because you want to devoid the rest of the innocents from experiencing the same.

Nikki had understood one thing firmly. The day Thomas Holland left for war, he never came back.

•

Tommy had ambition, and sometimes, Nikki told him that would be his downfall.

He was tired of running the streets; he wanted to be something more. They managed bookmaking, and even that was illegal. His ambition was to rise among the ranks, to take where his family had never been—and for that to happen, he needed a push. He didn’t know on most days what he was waiting for, where the push would come from, what the push would make him do. But, one thing was certain—he was ready for it, regardless of what it might be.

It was a cold evening in London that evening when Tom noticed a young girl wave at him from behind a cornered street. Harry was with him at the time, narrating some tale about a long lost love, a tale Tom wasn’t really paying attention to. The young girl, who looked like she was merely 8 or 9, waved at Tom frantically, which made him follow her to the corner. It could have been a trap, but his heart spoke of an opportunity, and he knew his luck had never failed him until now.

“Tommy, where you going?” Harry called out, confused at his brother’s sudden movement.

“Quick, Harry,” Tom said, chasing after the girl, knowing something was waiting for him on the other side.

The girl led him across various corners in the streets of London. Some of these corners, he had never even known about. Industrialization had ruined his home, and it had robbed him and the rest of London from any sun that could have pierced through grey skies.

“What’s going on, Tommy?” Harry whispered now, frowning and confused.

Thomas chose not to respond but merely follow his instinct. The girl stopped when a clearing came, stood in front of a few crates—brown and large, carrying within them some contraband that had fallen off course.

“What is this?” It was Harry who asked, while Tom contemplated.

Tom walked over to one of the crates and the girl handed him a wrench, using which he easily opened the lid off the top crate. Harry’s eyes widened as both their eyes landed on guns, stacked over one another—in groups of eight or more.

“Tommy, we really shouldn’t be…”

He knew. He knew he really shouldn’t be anywhere near these crates. Turning one of the guns around, Thomas noticed the sigil of the police—a smirk growing on his face. Harry shivered, knowing what they were doing was against their own protocol.

“Tommy—”

“Harry, what do you see here?” Thomas asked, examining one of the guns, his smirk sat firmly on his face.

“I see guns that we shouldn’t be touchin’, Tom.”

“I see an opportunity, brother,” Tom said, grinning widely. “We’re going to need them.”

What they need them for, Harry had no idea. But ever since returning from the war, anything Thomas said, anything Thomas wanted, anything Thomas needed—he never had to demand. It would just happen. As it did right then.

•

Sam was bored out of his mind.

He skipped patrol that morning because he had woken up drunk—working in a bar that Thomas had gifted him for their birthday wasn’t the best thing for him, but it was cherished nonetheless. That morning, the business was slow. People now had jobs, feeding their younguns, while Sam sat around at the bar alone and dreaded missing patrol.

The door chimed and he saw a woman, [h/c] hair let loose and casual clothing—a brick-colored skirt with a white blouse, [e/c] eyes shining at him as she walked in. She wore a hat, which was strange around these parts of London, and he knew instantly that she was a posh girl.

“How can I help you, miss?” Sam asked, narrowing his eyes. He noticed the bag she was carrying, and she looked hopeful.

Again, a strange feature around these parts.

“Are you Sam Holland?” Her voice was melodious, and he knew right away from her accent that she was not around this place.

“Who’s askin’?”

“My name is [y/n]. I’m looking for a job.”

Sam chuckled as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. He looked at her once more, her hopeful eyes causing him to burst out laughing.

“Do you know what kind of men even enter this pub?”

She didn’t look fazed. “I’ve got experience. I’ve been a barmaid before.”

Sam shook his head, “Experience don’t matter, lassie. A posh little lady like yourself will be torn to shreds in a dingy place like this one. Sorry, with a face like that, I can’t hire ya.”

[y/n] didn’t give up. She looked determined while she took another step forward. Sam paused, watching what she was up to. She placed her bag on the ground before getting up on the chair, causing him to raise his eyebrows at her. A moment later, she began to sing.

“'Tis the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone; No flower of her kindred, No rosebud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, And give sigh for sigh.

I'll not leave thee, thou lone one! To pine on the stem; Since the lovely are sleeping, Go, sleep thou with them. Thus kindly I scatter, Thy leaves o'er the bed, Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow, When friendships decay, And from Love's shining circle The gems drop away. When true hearts lie withered, And fond ones are flown, Oh! who would inhabit This bleak world alone?”

Sam didn’t realize his eyes were wide the whole time, as [y/n] stepped down after her song. His jaw was slightly ajar, and his eyes were burning.

“Music hasn’t been heard in these parts ever since the war. Men forget what they want out of greed when the sound of a song hits their ears.”

Sam, understanding the effect her music had on him, nodded once before shaking his head.

“Not sure what Tommy will say about the music, but hey. That was one good song.”

When [y/n] didn’t smile right away, Sam should have known something was off. But, the music had mesmerized him so much that no thought of suspicion entered his mind. He was lost now, in the idea of music alone, waiting for a chance to present it to the world.

▾

series taglist:

@cyrusandhiscollaredahirts @plaidamoosette @rachaeldonnaspiteri1 @tanya-diggory

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #mob tom #mob tom x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #reader insert #tom holland x you #tom holland blurb #mafia aesthetic #mafia au #tom holland mafia au #harry holland #sam holland #holland brothers #red right hand

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re666redtfuy · 3 years

Text

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴍᴇᴇᴛɪɴɢ

Harry Styles x British Royal!Reader

Her Royal Highness Princess YN, daughter to Prince Charles and late Princess Diana, Prince and Princess of Wales, younger sister to Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, and Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex, and granddaughter to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and His Royal Highness Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh would’ve never thought to meet Harry Styles by accident—by literally running into him. And Harry Styles would’ve never thought to meet the Princess of England again after that seemingly fateful afternoon.

faceclaim: Saoirse Ronan

author’s note: If you see any mistakes I made—especially royal title wise—please send an ask (anon asks are enabled!). I seriously love and appreciate your help with that <3

series masterlist » prologue

;

sunflowerbutterfly Sometimes I really hate my job—especially if I have to change out of my comfy pullover and fluffy slippers into a dress, a coat, and some high heels.

Seriously, who invented high heels? Hey Alexa, who invented high heels? … ah, so ancient Iran, aka Persia, is to blame. Great. I will condemn those for centuries dead people happily while I suffer during every step I take this afternoon. Burn in hell, ancient Persian torturer.

Liked by MacMark, murderbane, gingerprince, and 4 others | 6 comments

MacMark You only have to find the shoe.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly It‘s easy for you to say because you can walk in every shoe, Meg 💀

↳ MacMark Well… That is true, but everyone has their pair of shoe 👀

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Then my pair is obviously and most definitely my Nike sneaker or Converse

liked by MacMark

murderbane Rebell against the norms! Wear sneaker!

liked by sunflowerbutterfly

↳ gingerprince Not sure if Granny—or the monarchy as such—would love that suggestion, Meredith.

↳ murderbane Fuck the system!

liked by gingerprince and MacMark

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I know again why Granny won’t let you come to Buckingham for another lunch.

↳ murderbane Oh, come on, YNN! That flying sandwich was fun!

↳ gingerprince Wait, you are the one responsible for the Salmon Sandwich Incident???

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Please, don’t call it that, brother dearest.

↳ murderbane I am! And he definitely can call it that. It’s the truth and nothing but the truth.

liked by gingerprince

gingerprince High heels are way out of my league, but they look uncomfortable. Pack a pair of more comfier shoes as second choice?

↳ sunflowerbutterfly No shit, Sherlock 🙄

↳ gingerprince I am sorry that I don’t know more about the secrets of a lady 👀

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I know again why William is my favorite brother.

↳ gingerprince He is not and we both know it 👀

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Keep on dreaming 😙

↳ gingerprince I love you too, dear sister ❤️

instylemagazine Princess YN is now arriving at Strand Campus of King’s College London in a fitted navy blue mid-calf coat by Gucci and black velvet high heels by Jimmy Choo. She is wearing her signature golden butterfly pin—an heirloom of her mother, late Princess Diana.

Liked by yourfan1, yourfan2, royalistsbitch, annetwist, and 4,327 others | 1,441 comments

dianaforever The pin 🥺

↳ ynismyqueen She once told a reporter that she always wears it to official appearances because it helps her with her anxiety - it’s like her mom is with her 🥺

↳ dianaforever Oh gosh, that’s so sweet but so sad at the same time 😭❤️

yourfan1 Princess YN is a style icon.

yourfan2 Damn, she looks stunning.

↳ yourfan3 True!!!! Though the hat was kinda over the top, but I know for sure that she doesn’t want to wear those but has to

↳ yourfan2 Everyone is wearing those ridiculous hats, so she has to. She will probably rip it off as soon as she is back in the car 😅

royalistsbitch I’m on my knees again. This coat is gorgeous 😮‍💨 But the price 😩

yn_andharryshipper She is wearing Gucci, he is wearing Gucci, I want them to meet, but it will stay a dream, I know it.

hsfan1 Harry’s mom liked this post 🥺❤️

;

She could feel the looming shadows of her two Royal Protection Officers right at her back. Aaron and Egil—the first broad, dark, and Scottish, the latter tall, blonde, bearded, and Swedish—shielded her body from the screams of reporters and blinding lights of their clicking cameras while the princess climbed into the back of the waiting SUV. Inside the cozily warm vehicle, YN ripped off the obnoxious hat she was supposed to wear and threw it without a second glance onto the seat next to her. Meanwhile, her feet kicked off the high heels, and with a strangled groan, the blonde pulled them up one after the other and massaged her soles with closed eyes.

The left front door got opened as Egil climbed into the car; Bernard—her favorite driver—already sat behind the wheel and looked through the rear mirror back at the princess. She smiled at the sight of his kind and twinkling eyes. “To Starbucks, Your Highness?” He asked while Egil buckled up. YN nodded. “That would be great, thank you, Bernard. But could we grab a cup at the one in Notting Hill? Near Holland Park? I’m most definitely not in the mood for a crowd.”—Which would form in front of the Starbucks near the river on the other Thames bank opposite Westminster because most tourists frequented this shop. The driver hummed and used the blinker. “Of course, Your Highness.”

Sighing, YN leaned back in her seat but pushed back upward as Egil reached between his feet, clad in shining black Oxford shoes, and conjured a shoebox. He turned in his car seat to hand it over to the princess. “Your sneaker,” the blonde giant smiled, and YN grinned happily. “I thought I forgot them back at Kensington!” She exclaimed and grabbed the box with her current favorite Converse shoes—one in lavender and the other one in a sunflower yellow. Ever since the reporters had seen the princess wearing the odd color combination, every single pair was sold out in the UK and other parts of the world. The internet had been full of posts spotting the same two Converse shoes the princess regularly wore in paparazzi shots.

“Your lady in waiting had handed me the box right before we left, Your Highness, together with this,” the Protection Officer told her while YN had already put on the left shoe. Chuckling, she accepted the book carefully wrapped in soft tissue paper. She knew which book it contained, so she quickly continued putting on the more comfortable shoes before leaning back and unwrapping the book. The first edition of Pride and Prejudice was her entire pride and joy. YN knew it was kind of posh to carry this particular edition around instead of a cheaper paperback edition, but she only would read in it during the ride and maybe in the line while she waited for her coffee. No one would suspect it for a first edition, only if one had better knowledge about books than the majority of the population.

��Thanks, Egil,” she smiled, and the Swedish giant only nodded softly. “There’s nothing to thank me for, Your Highness.” And with that, he turned back and left the princess reading in silence.

;

Arriving at the comparably empty Starbucks, YN unbuckled while her door had already got opened by Aaron, who had sat in the car following them with two other Protection Officers. Egil slid off his seat and stationed himself between the opened door and the sidewalk, eyes wandering over the few people strolling down the street. She pushed her finger between the pages before climbing out of the SUV and straightened her coat before pushing a blonde curl behind her ear. The book was opened again in her hands because YN knew how this always went: she would leave the car with Aaron and Egil but would have to wait a few more moments until one of the other officers—Matthew was on duty today—had exited the place in question to give them the all-clear.

The happily moving bell announced Matt’s return, and he nodded to the other two officers. “All clear, only a few customers,” he told them, and YN moved without thought; book still opened and nose buried inside it. Aaron jumped forward to open the door, Egil right at her back, and Matt shielded her side from potential harm before he returned to the second car. “Thanks, A,” the princess mumbled, mind deep inside the world of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy.

“I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.” The words left her lips in a whisper and sighing, her finger stroked over the words, always feeling the wonder over literature as soon as she opened particular books. Pride and Prejudice was one of them.

And maybe it was because she read about the devastatingly romantic endeavors of fictional characters who had a much better functioning love life than the Princess of England ever had. Maybe it was because she always had such bad luck in love and interpersonal relationships ever since growing old enough to have the serious kind of it.

But the universe let her run into a solid chest, her precious book tumbling out of her hands and down to the wooden floor where it laid cover-up.

Suddenly, hectic erupted around her, and Aaron and Egil jumped into action while YN still recovered from the sudden stop. Strong hands were gently wrapped around her upper arms to safe her from following her book to the ground, and the fingers of her right hand had buried themselves into the soft fabric of a pullover out of sheer panic and surprise.

Aaron stepped around and stretched out his hands in order to remove the intruder from the princess while Egil tried to maneuver himself between them and the woman. Blinking multiple times, YN shook off the daze; her eyes wandering over an orange and white striped slip-over, a white and brown plaid shirt underneath until they moved to a handsome face with sharp features, a soft beard shadow covering his chin, cheeks, and the skin over his soft looking upper lip. Sea foam green eyes stared wide and in shock down at her, seemingly still taking in the person he had run into, but YN finally was back in reality as Aaron put his hand on the man’s shoulder.

“I need to ask you to step back, sir,” he spoke up in his most scaring officer voice, and as if the brunette only had noticed the presence of the two looming shadows in immaculate black suits now, his wide eyes moved from her face to the towering Scot. After he didn’t follow the order, Aaron grabbed his shoulder and stared him down with a glare as cold as the North Pole. “I said, I need you to step back, sir,” he stressed his request further, the threat lingering in his tone. Egil cleared his throat to get noticed too, and her collision partner almost paled, his hands slowly letting go off her upper arms, but only after he had made sure with another glance she was steady enough.

“Sorry,” he spoke and raised both hands before he took a step back but bent down to get the book from the floor. He looked up to her as he grabbed the old binding, and Harry still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that the Princess of England had run right into his arms. He still wasn’t sure if all of this really happened or if this was a trick of his tired brain. But the grab of one of the suit wearers on his shoulder had been unpleasant enough to make him think that this really is happening to him.

YN stared down at him with just as wide eyes as he paused in his movements and couldn’t comprehend her current reality. Harry Styles crouched in front of her, in a Starbucks store, after she had successfully run him over. Her heart skipped several beats before it started beating in her throat. This wasn’t something usual, not even for the Princess of England.

“Here,” Harry Styles spoke softly after he had raised back to his towering height and held her book in his ring-clad fingers. “Thank you,” she breathlessly whispered but threw her two shadows a warning look. “Everything is fine, Aaron. Egil.” The men nodded shortly but held their gazes settled on the singer, not daring letting him out of their protective sight. YN looked back to the man in front of her, a unsure smile tucking at the corner of her mouth. “I am sorry for that.” It came out almost embarrassed because he obviously didn’t do anything resembling treason or murder. He only had saved her from the embarrassment of meeting the floor with her butt, just like the book had done in her place.

The man with the fluffiest curls she had ever seen only smiled and waved one of his hands lazily. “It’s alright,” he promised before suddenly something seemingly came to his mind. “Your Highness.” And with that, Harry Styles attempted to bow before her, but YN couldn’t have any of that. Gently, she pressed her unoccupied hand and the fist holding her book against his shoulders and shook her head at his confused expression. “Please, don’t do this. I should bow before you.” The princess chuckled. “I mean, I did it often enough in my rooms as a teenager, right in front of a poster of One Direction.” A hand shot up to her mouth and covered it so nothing more embarrassing knowledge would leave it.

And Harry? He stood absolutely stunned there before a soft grin spread over his face—which made him even more handsome in her still unbelieving eyes. But YN didn’t let him utter a single word before pointing over to the staring baristas behind the counter. It wouldn’t have been a surprise if their mouths gaped at the sight of the world’s most famous singer and the Princess of England in their shop. “Would you like to have a coffee? A tea? Something cold? A hot chocolate? After the inconvenience of me running you practically over, it’s the least I can do.” YN was rambling, she knew it but just couldn’t stop.

He made her nervous—as if she wasn’t a grown woman anymore and instead turned back into the insecure teenage girl she used to be (well, even today, she wasn’t the self-confidence in person).

Harry tried to shake his head, but a voice in there screamed to accept the offer to live a few more minutes in her presence. This was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of moment, so he should stretch it as long as possible—not because he wanted the paparazzi to know, but because his former teenager self would kill him if he would run away now. So all he did was slowly nod and instantly patted his shoulder internally because he got to see the most radiant smile he probably had ever witnessed.

Grinning, YN pressed Pride and Prejudice against her chest and suppressed a heavy but blissed sigh at the sight of his growing smile. If she had thought he was irresistible on-screen, she now knew that this assumption was utter bollocks. Harry Styles was even more captivating in reality, face-to-face, and YN almost dreaded the day when he would be in a happy relationship with cats, a wife, and a bunch of kids because it meant she had to bury her crush definitively.

Turning to her protection squad, as she loved to call them, the princess nodded to a table at the halfway point between counter and door. “Why don’t you sit over there until we’re finished? You don’t have to stand around,” the blonde suggested and pointed to a table with a pair of chairs closer to the counter. “You will have the best view of me and the door. Black coffee and a Caramel Frappuccino?” They nodded hesitantly, still not used to the princess's kindness even after years in her service.

As the two went to their assigned table, YN turned back to Harry and smiled up at him. “What would Harry Styles like to have?”

;

pagesix Rumors are getting loud that Harry Styles and Princess YN met at a Starbucks in Notting Hill, London, UK. Several sources claimed to have seen the singer-songwriter and Princess of England together near Holland Park, where she bought him a coffee before talking for hours. Sources say the two celebrities left together after getting another coffee.

Liked by hsfan1, hsfan2, yourfan1, yn_andharryshipper, and 3,287 others | 960 comments

hsfan1 EXCUSE ME???? 😱

1direction4ever She always was a 1D fan, if I remember correctly, so this would be just ✨chefskiss✨

hsfan2 SCREAMING RIGHT NOW

↳ yourfan1 SAME???? I literally can’t breathe.

hsfan3 If that’s true… Save me.

yourfan2 This would be a dream come true for YN 🥺

yn_andharryshipper Please stop pushing my expectations.

hsfan4 I SAW THEM 😱😮‍💨

liked by hsfan1, yourfan2, hsfan3, and 77 others

;

“I still can’t believe I ran into the Princess of England,” Harry laughed softly while walking next to the woman in question, steaming hot coffee in hand. YN grinned up to him, an equally steaming to-go cup in hand while contemplating how she had ended up running into Harry Styles, sharing a table at Starbucks, and now strolling through Holland Park next to him with a second coffee in hand.

This day was definitely something entirely else.

“Believe me. I would have never believed if someone had told me this morning I would meet Harry Styles because I run into him,” the blonde returned and shook her head in utter wonder. The singer gently nudged her to the side. “It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one a tad bashful, just so you know.” YN looked up at him while sipping her sweetened coffee and nodded in agreement. “It takes off the awkward edge of the situation, does it not?”

Harry hummed before turning around for the third time ever since they had left Starbucks to stroll through Holland Park just around the corner. “And they’re at your back every time you leave Kensington or Buckingham?” He dared to ask, and the blonde princess looked over her shoulder as well, where Aaron, Egil, and Matthew walked at a respectful distance but kept their eyes either on her very person or on her surroundings. Even Harry was eyed cautiously from time to time. “Every minute of every day I spend outside Kensington. I am sorry if they make you uncomfortable. And again, sorry for their treatment earlier—they are kind of… quick in their actions when it comes to me.” It still seriously bothered her as soon as she remembered the harsh grip Aaron had used on the man next to her, even though it had been her fault, to begin with.

But Harry only shrugged it off before pushing one hand into the pocket of his coat. “I really don’t mind, and the situation earlier is already forgotten. Really,” he told her with empathy as his eyes had witnessed the unconvincingly furrowed blonde brows. “I only imagine it to be… constricting. I have the freedom to walk around without security when I’m not on my way to shows or interviews and all the stuff, but you…” The princess clearly could see and hear the sympathy of the singer, but she only shrugged with a small smile. “I am used to it—it had always been this way. I can’t remember a moment outside the palace where I didn’t have them trailing behind me. Even during my studies at Oxford.” Now, Harry looked back again. “So… The dark brooding shadow and the light, bright giant always sat behind you in a sea of young adults? Let me guess.” He grinned now, and YN felt her heart beating even faster than it already did. She just had to laugh. “Yes, if you guessed that they had a lot of female admirers trailing behind them, then you are totally right,” the princess chuckled, the memories still very vivid in her mind. The man grinned as well and softly grabbed her hand to steady her as YN kind of stumbled over a bump on the stone path, and both felt their hearts flutter.

“Sometimes I’m too clumsy for this world,” she mumbled behind her coffee cup, and Harry chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, it never shows,” he winked. YN felt the blood rising into her cheeks and hid them in the collar of her coat. “I am glad to hear that. Imagine what Granny would say if she knew that the entire Commonwealth gossiped over their clumsy princess.” She always knew how to change topics involving compliments into a joke. Her family didn’t like that very much. But Harry seemingly caught up to it, judging by the knowing expression settling on his devilishly handsome face. “What does she say about the gossip throughout the country that their princess is a sworn Harry Styles fan?” YN let her head fall back while a laugh escaped her. “She took it surprisingly good. Well, she isn’t a huge fan of me talking to god knows what interviewers, magazines, and newspapers, but she knows my opinion about it and how rarely I change my mind if someone tries to change it—especially if the someone is part of my family. So, naturally, she wasn’t a fan of the entire world knowing the contents of my playlists. But my music preferences never bothered her, and I think she even enjoys some of your songs, but don’t ever mention that to her.” Smirking, YN softly shrugged to end her small monologue. Sometimes she really couldn’t shut her bloody mouth.

Harry laughed under his breath while maneuvering her around the fountain and behind the line of trees to escape a small group of young adults. “I will keep that in mind in case I’ll ever meet the Queen of England. But after today? I won’t say never ever again.” They rounded some sadly-looking bushes—winter should be cursed and banned from her island—before he increased his steps to stop right in front of her. Cocking a blonde brow, YN looked up to him, unsure what this meant. “I think I would’ve known if you ever went to one of my shows.” She hummed, interested in what this would lead to. But now, Harry looked nervous, as if he hadn’t thought this through, but he proceeded anyway after a deep breath. “Would you like to come to one? I could arrange that you won’t be bothered by anyone, save you a spot backstage, block an entire row for you, whatever you want. I just…”

The brunette fell silent, the panic evident in his eyes, and YN just had to think how thoughtful and… lovely he was. “I just thought you’d might like to come, ‘s all,” the singer ended in a lower tone than before, seemingly trying to find a hole in which he could vanish. But YN smiled warmly up to him, and the sight alone eased his rising anxiety tremendously. “Funny thing you mention that. My brothers and papa gifted me a ticket for the London show in your upcoming tour, so… yeah. It will finally happen.” But then, a thought occurred in her mind, and her bright eyes widened. “Could I come to your Fine Line listening?”

Now, he stared down at her with just as wide eyes as she did and felt himself nodding violently. “Yes! Of course! That… that would be great, actually. It’s supposed to be something small and… intimate, so this would be perfect. I… Give me a sec.” With that, he rounded YN with a mission in mind and stepped up to her protection squad. She couldn’t exactly hear what they talked about, but Harry returned with a piece of paper and a pen. He started to scribble something on the white surface as he stopped in front of her and smiled as he handed it over. YN took it, of course, and examined the number and the ‘Harry’ written in pretty handwriting. “You are aware of the fact that I possess and carry around a phone in my pockets?” The princess asked with a smile tucking at her lips, but Harry only shrugged. “I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to seem rude in assuming anything.” Her heart fluttered again at his thoughtfulness.

This man simply was a literal angel.

“It’s my private number. You can call or text me whenever you want. The details for the listening event aren’t wrapped up yet, so if you have dates in mind—let me know, yeah? I’d love to have you there because… I don’t know. You are just easy to talk to, and I think you’d enjoy this little get-together with some people to listen to me rambling about my writing and recording process, and me singing, of course, and that sounds so narcissistic, and I’m sorry for that, and…-“

YN stepped closer to him and tapped his lips gently with the white card to make him stop. “You do not have to worry about how you sound because I know you are not a narcissist. You just love what you’re doing. And I would love to see you in your element and talk to your lovely fans because Harries are the best kind of company.” He sighed deeply before taking a deep breath. “Okay.” She smiled up at him. “Okay,” she repeated and took a glance at her watch. “Fuck.” She surprised them both with her small outburst. “I totally forgot the time, but this was probably the best afternoon I had in a very long time.” Harry took her emptied cup out of her hand and threw them both in the bin next to the sadly-looking bush. “I will never forget the story about the Salmon Sandwich Incident,” the brunette told her with a serious look before breaking out into a chuckle, to which she followed close. “Dito with the Cheeto ice cream story.” Another laughing fit caught the pair before YN slowly held out her hand, which Harry gladly accepted.

They stood there for a rather long time, just shaking hands and staring into each other’s eyes, taking in the sight of one another while stressing the moment into infinity. “I have to go,” YN whispered, and Harry nodded. “I know.” But still, he didn’t let go of her hand, nor let she go of his. “I really want to see you again,” he all of a sudden almost burst out even though his brain had told him to keep this wish a secret. But after nearly three hours in her company, Harry couldn’t let her just go without letting her know what he thought. Surprise settled on her face. “You do?” The surprise was even evident in her voice. “Yes, I do. And not just at events or shows, or on the television.” Her breath hitched in her throat, and the princess swallowed dryly and tried to suck enough oxygen into her lungs to answer him properly.

“I’d love that.”

;

vanityfair Today’s guest is singer-songwriter Harry Styles! We had the pleasure to talk about the process behind his new studio album Fine Line, how life has treated the 26-year-old in the past months, and to which realizations he came during the promotion of his new album.

Liked by sunflowerbutterfly, hsfan1, hsfan2, gemmastyles, jefezoff, and 38,691 others | 14,436 comments

vanityfair “I recently had the most interesting and… and most mind-opening conversation in a very long time. You see, even though there are millions of celebrities out there in the world, there are… I don’t know, differences between some and others. I, for example, can cross the street and get my groceries without security officers behind my back, while others can’t do ordinary things like that—think about it for a second, and you are made painfully aware of the freedom and… and independence you hold. I can’t say it in other words, but I felt privileged when realizing it. Society has to keep that in mind before throwing assumptions through the room because even celebrities are only human.”

liked by hsfan1, yourfan1, annetwist, gemmastyles, and 2,316 others

↳ hsfan1 I’m so sure that he talks about YN if the rumors are true 🥺

↳ yourfan1 that’s definitely about YN, can’t change my mind.

hsfan2 He looked so handsome in that slip-over 😮‍💨

harrystylesforever He speaks the truth.

harrystylesfanpage Handsome, thoughtful, a literal angel. One could not ask for more in a man.

liked by sunflowerbutterfly, hsfan5 and 12 others

yourfan2 I wish the universe would grant me the sight of YN and Harry together in a happy relationship, but I know that that’s not possible because of Royal Protocol or some shit.

↳ royalistsbitch It is possible, but imagine the situation YN is in after her second brother married a “commoner”. She probably has the pressure to marry another royal because her Grandma wants it that way 😩

liked by yourfan2, yourfan3, ynismyqueen and 33 others

;

Returning to Buckingham had been unpleasant. Not because she disliked the palace—she kind of loved it, actually—but because she knew how her Grandma would react after she most definitely had read the articles and assumptions wildly thrown around. Her Granny never really believed what the tabloids wrote, but she still asked every single time her face appeared in one of these ever since that… incident with Lewis Cornwall, son of Nicholas Cornwall, Duke of Hastings and her father’s—former—closest friend. YN knew that she only deeply cared for her youngest granddaughter and always wanted to know her side of the stories circulating through the world before finally going down the drain because something new sparked the tabloids’ interest.

God bless the short attention span of those, the princess thought cynical.

“Her Majesty awaits you in the blue salon,” Harold, one of the many butlers, told her after the blonde had left the car, only two days after her fateful meeting with Harry Styles. With a soft sigh, YN walked up the many stairs, put carpeted hallways behind her, and crossed employees with a gentle smile on her lips and a nod of her head before finally arriving in front of the blue salon. Taking a last deep breath, the princess entered the grand room with the blue wallpapers through the wide-open French doors; her eyes immediately fell onto the white-haired woman sitting on one of the armchairs, signature purse on the coffee table right next to her. A few years back, it had its spot next to her feet, but now, with even more years on her life scale, the Queen opted to have it on elevated places so she didn’t need to bend down anymore.

“Ah, there you are,” the Queen of England greeted her granddaughter, and YN walked over to her, bent down, and pressed a loving kiss to her wrinkled cheek. “Excuse me, Granny. I just got your message and tried to get here as fast as possible,” she explained, but the older woman only dismissed her excuse with a slight raise of her hand. “Nonsense, darling. Only because I scream for attention does not mean you have to rush away from whatever appointment you had to get to your old Grandma.”

Chuckling, YN situated herself on the armchair opposite her and mumbled a silent “Thank you” as Hugh came with the tea. Taking the saucer with the cup of tea on it in hand, she softly stirred through the perfectly brewed Earl Grey with a hint of lemon and a teaspoon of sugar inside. She sometimes preferred milk to lighten the taste a bit, but with her Granny, she always drank it the most British way.

“Am I allowed to take a sip and get a bite of that sandwich, or do you want to get straight to the point?” YN asked with a smile tucking at her lips, and the Queen showed one of her rare grins, specially reserved for her grandchildren and her husband. “I thought I would let you taste the new recipe for the tomato cream first,” Elizabeth returned, and the princess laughed softly before putting down the saucer and the cup and folding her hands in her lap. “No, you can jump straight to the point.”

The Queen sipped on her tea herself before morphing her expression into something resembling seriousness. YN leaned back in the armchair, crossing her legs and elbows resting on the armrests. “I never object your tendencies to wander and stroll around the city, nor do I object your fondness of talking to… interesting magazines like a common celebrity. I fully understand that you belong to a different generation, which handles things differently. But what I have to object to is your contact with said common celebrities.” Cocking a blonde brow, YN waited for her to continue. “A singer, YN,” she almost spat it out as if his profession was something bordering scandalous. All the princess could do was shrug her shoulders. “I don’t see what is so wrong about being a singer for a living, especially if one is a worldwide known and praised artist. He is British, English even, Granny.”

Elizabeth didn’t laugh about it. Instead, her forehead furrowed tremendously, white eyebrows knitted. “This is not something to jest about, YN Diana.” Oh, they had reached the second name dropping. Sighing, YN put both feet on the ground and leaned forward, forearms resting on her knees, confusion visible on her face. “I don’t understand the fuzz about all of it, Grandma. You never objected to my friendship with Meredith or Archie, even after he had given up every single title and started his acting career. Why the sudden change?” The Queen eyed her intently. “Meredith and Archibald are proper associations for a princess.” Now she had lost her entirely. “And Harry Styles is not? The most thoughtful and loveliest man ever in existence is not a proper acquaintance?” Her Grandmother sighed deeply. “You don’t know him, YN, and… look how he dresses. This is certainly not an adequate connection for a princess. You have to think about this family, YN, about your title and position. You are not a commoner, so you cannot behave like one, not if you do not want to end like your…-“

The princess raised jerkily to both feet and let the Queen herself grow silent. “Do not dare to end that sentence how you intended to end it,” she whispered with a strained voice, anger boiling in her body, eyes resting unmoving on the older woman in front of her.

Gladly, Jameson just entered with a bow but stopped at the sight of the standing princess. “I am sorry, Your Highness, I didn’t know you were here. I will return when…-“ But YN shook her head. “No, it’s alright, Jameson. I was on my way out anyway,” she told him with as much grace as she could muster because she felt like screaming and leaving this place running. She spared another glance at her Granny before curtsying just as she had been drilled all her life. “Grandmother,” was all the princess said before leaving the blue salon to return to Kensington, back into the safety of her home.

;

First of all, thank you so freaking much for the AMAZING and mindblowing support on the first chapter of this little series. I’m already thinking about adding more chapters to it because I’m so in love with it. Let me know if you’d like that or if I should add little blurbs here and there! And now, thanks for reading this second chapter. Hope y’all liked it <3

Taglist: @onecrazydirectioner @tinyhrry @feestyles @r3vivedbur @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @oh-its-jennyyy @butdaddyiluvvhim @cwiphswmwasohmm @agustdpeach @sleutherclaw @formulasatellite @princessmiaelicia @rororo06 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @venomsvl @maraudersrry @theroosterswife24 @lovurryy @indierockgirrl @lazybot @laura-naruto-fan1998 @awesomebooklover17 @ihavelovedyousincewewere18 @illicithallways @mrosales16 @keriberry @b-reads-things @bugg06

I hope I got everyone on the taglist. If you miss your name—please reach out!

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

Harry Styles x British Royal!Reader

faceclaim: Saoirse Ronan

author’s note: I’m really super excited for this one, but please bear with me if I don’t get the titles right. I’m still putting more knowledge into my head about it! This work is pure fiction and entirely self-indulgent on my behalf.

series masterlist » ch. 1 is here!

;

theroyalfamily Happy 27th Birthday Princess YN! 🎂

📸 Chris Jackson (chrisjacksongetty) and the Duke of Sussex, earlier this month.

Liked by ynismyqueen, yourfan1, hsfan1, royalistsbitch, mrsamclaflin, gemmastyles, and 986,351 others | 334,009 comments

hsfan1 It’s Her Highness’s birthday AND Fine Line got released today - this is the best day of my life. Happy Birthday!

ynismyqueen HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY QUEEN

yourfan1 Happy Birthday, Your Highness!

yourfan2 She looks SO stunning! Happy Birthday, YN!

yourfan3 How is it possible that she looks so much like her mother 🥺 Happy Birthday, princess ❤️

↳ dianaforever right? I thought the same, especially while I looked through the older pictures and the more recent ones. Diana’s genes really said “Excuse me, that’s my spot” while creating this angel of a woman 🥺

liked by yourfan3, yourfan1, hsfan1, and royalistsbitch

↳ yourfan3 Totally 🥹

hsfan2 Fine Line release, Gemma liked this post, what a day. Now I’m waiting for Harry to like this one too, so my shipper-brain can go into a frenzy 💀

liked by hsfan1 and hsfan3

mrsamclaflin I wish you a very Happy Birthday, Your Royal Highness 🎂

↳ everyonesfan And there he is! Like always: on time ❤️

liked by mrsamclaflin, yourfan1, and yourfan2

↳ mrsamclaflin Of course!

liked by everyonesfan and yourfan3

royalistsbitch Can you marry me, my princess? 🥺😮‍💨 HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

;

The morning of her birthday was always a hectic matter. One could easily mistake this particular day for the birthday of the Queen herself, but in reality, it was only the result of a family who deeply adores the youngest child of Prince Charles and Princess Diana. But the royal protocol was still in place—not even the Princess of England could change that on her special day. That’s why her entire day was strictly and thoroughly planned, except for a few hours in the morning after her Lady of the Bedchamber had woken the princess to begin the day. Her Mistress of the Robes had already hung the several cautiously put-together outfits at the beautifully crafted screen separating the space in front of the closet from the rest of the dressing room. One look at them, and the princess sighed deeply after crawling out under the thick blankets dominating the comfortable bed. The outfits were nice, of course, but the meaning behind two out of the three meant official duties because, after twenty-six years inside this family, she knew how to figure out her day at the sight of clothing pieces. At least one piece each was in her favorite color, even though the entire attire reminded her of her Granny.

Another sigh left the princess, but the one present thought—I want to go back to bed—vanished at the prospect of a beautiful winter day with blue sky, fluffy, sheep-like clouds, and the sun shining down on busy London. Leaning against the wall next to the grand windows stretching from almost the floor up to two-thirds of the high ceiling, YN looked out of it, straight onto the usually beautiful garden, but now all she saw was bare trees and brown grass. Her face immediately showed the displeasure at the sight. She loved Kensington, she really did, but the winter-y gloom made everything dull and unpleasant. Even though she was born in December, YN most definitely wasn’t a winter child—she preferred spring and summer over anything else.

The soft knock at the French door leading into her apartment let YN turn around with a grin. “Come in!” Her voice traveled towards the waiting party of three men in front of her humble home, and after one of the doors got opened, a head with tousled red hair peeked inside. As soon as his eyes fell onto the youngest Mountbatten-Windsor of the trio, his lips stretched into a wide grin. “There she is! Our birthday girl,” he exclaimed and pushed the door wide open to reveal a smiling William and an as bright as his sons smiling Charles.

Harry looked at the other two expectantly after his father had closed the door, and moving his arms in a counting manner, the younger prince started to count. “And one, two, three…” Suddenly the three men began to sing.

“Happy Birthday to You

Happy Birthday to You

Happy Birthday Dear YN

Happy Birthday to You!”

Grinning and chuckling, YN clapped excitedly, face beaming with utmost joy. She jumped into her eldest brother’s arms and hugged him close as he kissed her head softly. “Happy Birthday, sunshine,” he wished her, and the woman kissed his cheek. “Thank you, old man,” she returned with a grin while William only rolled his eyes.

Harry grinned as brightly and wide as she did, passing the cupcake with the already lit candle and an envelope with a massive bow to William before hugging her close and lifting her off the ground, her feet dangling under her dark blue robe in the air. “Happy Birthday, jellybean.” YN pressed her lips to his bearded cheek and grinned even wider. “Did you plan this little get-together?” The middle child of them nodded proudly. “You can bet on it. Dear Willy over there tried to talk me out of it because he thought you’d be sleeping in. I told him it would be bollocks because you, dear sister, never stop working.” William scoffed, and they both turned to him. “Excuse me and my assumptions that someone would let her sleep in on her special day.” Charles laughed softly behind his hand before opening his arms and wrapping his youngest child into a loving hug. “You know how it goes, boys,” he told the two princes and gently kissed YN's forehead. “Happy Birthday, sweetheart,” he wished her and kissed her forehead another time. “Thank you, papa,” YN spoke silently and nuzzled into the warm embrace.

Ever since returning from Oxford, the father-daughter duo had spent less time than usual together because they had been both busier than normal. With her degrees in Politics and International Relations and Literature—the latter had been her choice of study—she suddenly had sort of acquired a new status within the Royal Family. She had tended to her charitable work but had also spent more time with the reception of political figures and had pushed herself into a new field of charities: political education among the students in their country. And Charles had attended his appointments and public functions as Prince of Wales.

It was good to feel his hug again. It had always been one the safest places on earth for the princess.

William cleared his throat to continue with the program in the form of cake and presents. Well, a cupcake and one present. The rest would have to wait until YN’s duties were fulfilled and the entire family would come together. The planned dinner would be the grandest in a long time.

“So, we put our heads together for this present, and it was the only thing we could come up with because everything else was already stolen by the rest of the lot—and Harry over there can call himself lucky for coming up with at least one idea,” William explained while holding the envelope up, but Harry swatted his hand and took the plate with the cupcake in his own hands. “Will you let her at least blow the candle and wish for something before you jump directly to the next point on the list? Thank you very much. And thanks for the hit. Welcome to the Sleep Deprivation Society, my ass.” Shaking his head in exaggeration—William only laughed under his breath while Charles threw his two sons' scolding looks— the redhead held the cupcake right in front of her face, the purple and white swirled candle still with a flame on top of it. “Go on, jellybean,” he smiled down at the blonde woman, and YN closed her eyes before blowing the candle out, and the men started to clap.

Smiling, she opened them again and clapped both hands. “You were saying something about this envelope, Will?” Excitement was clearly visible in her bright eyes and the eldest chuckled before passing it to her. “It’s from all three of us.” Nodding, she grinned at every man in their small round. “Thank you,” she already said, and Harry rolled his eyes. “Open it first before thanking us,” he teased her, and with a breathless bit to her lower lip, YN opened the envelope with much more force than needed and let the paper slowly fall to the carpet under her bare feet.

Her eyes widened as soon as they realized what she held in her hands, and with a squeal, the princess started to jump up and down. “It is… it is…” She couldn’t bring the sentence to an end, too overwhelmed and excited to utter a coherent one. The brothers and the father exchanged proud looks before turning back to the still-squealing princess. “You really got me a ticket for Harry Styles?!” YN still couldn’t believe it even though she held the paper in her very own hands.

Charles softly stroked her blonde hair. “Your grandfather told me something fundamental, and that was to let you live your life. I know you miss your studies dearly, the life you had in Oxford, the freedom. That is why I will try to give this back to you, even if it’s only for a couple of hours or days at a time.” With nothing but wonder, YN stared up at her father, not knowing where all of this was coming from so suddenly. But she hadn’t to ask at the same time because she knew her grandpapa and how he wanted for every single one of them to gain a small amount of freedom back, but especially for her—the baby of the family.

It was freedom in moderation, of course, but YN had learned over the years that this was the best she could get. So she embraced the little independence she could acquire between the Royal Protocol and her family, the public eye, and her duties because she never wanted to end like her beloved mother.

Her arms wrapped around the older man and held him close. “Thank you, papa,” she whispered into the soft cotton of his vest and felt his hand stroking her back. “Not for this, sweetheart. Not for wanting a piece of normality in your life.”

;

vogue_uk We had the utmost honor to interview Her Royal Highness, Princess YN. We talked about the life of a “modern” princess, how life in Buckingham Palace has shaped her and her interests, and we even tickled out the answer to our question about which of her Christmas presents she loved the most—and which member of the Royal Family had gifted it.

Click the link in our bio to see|read the full interview with Princess YN!

PS: The Princess of England is funnier than most people.

Liked by hsfan1, yourfan1, ynismyqueen, royalistsbitch, gemmastyles, and 879,774 others | 258,691 comments

vogue_uk “I will probably shock the world in its very foundations with this answer, but my most loved present this year was by far the Fine Line vinyl Will [His Royal Highness, Prince William] gifted me—the gorgeous limited edition, you know which one, don’t you? The stunning black and white? Yes, exactly this one. Now everyone probably will ask themselves, ‘Why didn’t she buy it herself on the release day?’ Well, for that, you have to understand our family traditions: We swore an oath never to buy the things we like to have about which we already have talked in the past, so no one will feel the embarrassment of a mediocre excited face on Christmas Morning because one already got it themself. It’s the most horrendous feeling in existence—well, during Christmas and birthdays, at least.”

ynandharryshipper The princess probably woke up the morning of the interview and thought to herself, “I wanna see this internet burn,” and then casually proceeded with her plan😮‍💨

↳ yourfan1 Totally 😂

hsfan1 Did YN, the Princess of England, seriously tell the world that she loves Harry Styles??????? I never expected to admire and love one of the Royals, but here we go.

ynismyqueen “The album has run on repeat ever since Christmas Morning. Granny [Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II] told Grandpapa [His Royal Highness, Prince Philip] to find her some earplugs. Not because she dislikes Mr. Styles’ voice, but because she rather prefers not to have to throw the turntable out of Balmoral—she doesn’t like to hear things in a loop. She is very happy now that I’ve returned to Kensington [Palace], and I am happy that I can hear Fine Line now on full volume.” - She is such a mood :D

↳ hsfan2 Damn, this woman really said I am a Harrie and proud of it! 😩

royalistsbitch Can we quickly talk about how bloody authentic she is??? She is definitely the most down-to-earth royal of the lot 😍

↳ yourfan2 +1! Directly followed by Kate!

liked by royalistsbitch

dailymail Harry Styles is back in the UK!

Singer-songwriter Harry Styles is back in London after recording—and releasing—his new album Fine Line in his Californian home. Styles interacted with his fans on his way to the BBC Radio 1 studio for an interview about his new album and plans for upcoming events and tours.

Liked by hsfan1, hsfan2, hsfan3, ynismyqueen, sunflowerbutterfly, and 5,613 others | 1,994 comments

hsfan1 There will be a listening WITH HIM IN THE SAME ROOM?! Where do I get that ticket????? 😭

↳ hsfan2 it’s a strictly limited amount because it’s supposed to be something more private and home-y feeling. That’s why I don’t believe I will be a lucky one, but hey, I will keep my eyes open 👀

↳ hsfan1 Oooooh, okay. Maybe it’s only for selected people, then? We’ll see!

ynismyqueen I am SO sure that YN is sucking those new pictures up like oxygen 😮‍💨

liked by hsfan1, royalistsbitch, sunflowerbutterfly, and 8 others

↳ hsfan3 I’m sure of it! He looks damn handsome (as always) and so cuddle-able ❤️

yn_and_harryshipper He looks exceptionally good today 😩 And the plaid coat??? The princess will love this 🥺

;

The ringing of her phone securely tucked onto the docking station to charge ripped YN out of her hard-working mind, and her fingers’ movements faltered atop the keyboard. With an “Alexa, please stop the music”—she was polite even to a plastic thing that could talk to her—she paused at Sunflower, Vol. 6 and picked up her phone to accept the call of her best friend.

“To what do I owe the honor of your call, Mylady?” YN greeted Meredith Brisbane, her former dorm companion in Oxford and study mate in her Literature major, with a more nasally voice than ever. The princess knew that she sounded like a character straight out of a Jane Austen novel naturally, but well, she couldn’t do much about her upbringing now.

Better to embrace and sometimes overact it a bit.

But Meredith only laughed at the other end of the call because she was definitely used to it by now. “Well, I wanted to hear if my best friend is still alive and not already drowned in work—.” At that, YN scoffed softly, eyes settling on her calendar, which was full of post-its and scribbles, and she knew with certainty that her assistant had even more events and appointments where her presence was required. Meredith hummed in understanding. “I know that sound; you don’t have to say more. And then I wanted to ask if you checked the Gram already.” The princess was now intrigued at the second question and rummaged through the stuff on her desk to find the case with her AirPods. After finding them, she popped them in and held the phone between both hands to log into her secret Instagram account faster.

It sucked that the members of the Royal Family weren’t allowed to have public and known social media accounts because she really wanted to share certain aspects with the public to finally lift the myth and stop the assumptions made by others. But after one argument over dinner with her Granny, followed by a rebuke from her and one from Camilla, she never spoke of it again in their presence. Even the staff of the official Royal Family social media accounts had a word with her over tea. Ever since YN kept her mouth shut about this particular topic and enjoyed the freedom of her little secret Instagram account with the incredible follower number of 11 people.

“What am looking fo-… nevermind!”

With wide eyes, YN stared at her feed full of a smiling Harry Styles in a blue and yellow plaid coat, sunglasses in fluffy brown locks, and the signature pearl necklace around his neck. Reading the several headlines, she knew that he was back in the UK, in London. They shared a time zone and city again, and the princess grinned like an imbecile at her screen.

Meredith’s chuckle echoed through the AirPods. “I saw them plop up one after the next and had to tell you. My friend Daniel—I told you about him, right?” YN hummed softly before she perked up. “The one working for BBC Radio?” Her best friend agreed. “Yep! He wrote me a few minutes ago that there will be a small listening event for Fine Line? Limited number of tickets, super small, one can have a conversation with him if one is lucky enough, the whole thing.” Now, YN shot up from her chair in front of the desk and stared straight out of the window, eyes even wider. “Do you know how they will get sold?” Crossing her fingers, YN hoped Mer would’ve all the answers to her biggest dream. But the sigh was answer enough. “Nope, sorry, sweets. But I will keep my eyes open and send you the link as soon as I stumble over it, ‘promise.”

And YN knew that Meredith would always keep her promises, so she sat down again and sighed deeply. “He looks so good. How is that even possible?” Propping her chin on one of her hands, the other hand still held onto the smartphone, and her thumb scrolled through every single newly released picture of Harry bloody Styles.

Plaid suits him, the princess thought with a small smile before focusing on the call again.

“I’m asking that same question every time I see a picture of you, sweets. Is it genetics? God-given? Magic? Witchcraft? Tell me all your secrets.” YN could hear the grin of her best friend through the phone. Shrugging, she leaned back in her chair. “It’s a talent,” the blonde spoke dramatically, and the two women started to laugh until their stomachs hurt.

“But seriously,” YN started again after wiping the tears from under her eyes. “He looks better every year. Though I miss the long hair One Direction era.” Those lush brown locks were a sight to behold, and she still had a poster with long-haired Harry somewhere hidden in her closet. She heard Meredith type on her laptop before she Aaaaah-d in realization. “Now I know what you mean. And yes, I have to agree. Those long hair really suited him. Maybe he would let it grow back if the Princess of England asked him personally? In a letter, maybe? With one of those fancy wax seals?” YN would like to tell her best friend that her family did not use wax seals since the last century, but she knew better. One look in the upper drawer to her left would prove her words wrong. “I don’t think he answers to desperate pleas of desperate princesses who had an unhealthy obsession with his former boy group as a teenager.” No, she didn’t suspect Harry Styles for someone who bends easily to other wills. He would never have gotten this far and been as successful as he was at such a young age if it had been different.

“Well, it’s worth a try. But hey, YNN?” The princess hummed in question while liking every single picture on her run through her feed. “Don’t work too much, yeah? I have the feeling I’m the one responsible for keeping your habits in check, and I can practically see the smoke emitting from your overworked brain till the other end of London.” YN could hear the worry in her friend’s voice, so she smiled softly. Meredith really let her feel loved and cherished without demanding the impossible. “Will do, pumpkin. I love you, you know that, don’t you?”

While waiting for an answer, the princess started to save every document she worked on today to call it a day and maybe hide in the library to reread Pride and Prejudice. She could use some romantic fairytale and a brooding Mr. Darcy—because her life most definitely wasn’t a romantic fairytale. “I know, sweets. And I love you too. We should grab dinner sometime. How about Thursday?” Grinning, YN closed her laptop and logged out of Instagram on her phone. “Sounds great. I’m open for anything as long as it’s nothing resembling seafood or some artistic bollocks I am supposed to only stare at but not eat it.” She knew that Mer grinned widely at this moment. “Please, I never take you to those fancy restaurants where you should preferably make a reservation in the last century. Nah-ah, we’re going to widen your culinary horizon of peasant food further. How about Burger King?”

;

dailymail Princess YN was spotted today with friend Meredith Brisbane in the City of London, London!

Liked by gemmastyles, yourfan1, yourfan2, royalistsbitch and 11,980 others | 5,452 comments

yourfan1 YN rocks that jacket

royalistsbitch Damn, not sure if I want to be that jacket or her best friend.

↳ ynismyqueen Having the same trouble over here.

yourfan2 I WASNT SURE IF I REALLY SAW HER BUT IT WAS REALLY HER THEN

↳ ynismyqueen YOU SAW HER????!!!

↳ yourfan2 I did! I was in the same bookshop as she and Meredith! And she had a huge stack of novels in her arms (with a lot of good titles, if I may say so) 😍

yourfan3 She gets more beautiful every day 🥹

↳ yourfan4 truuuuuuue 😮‍💨

↳ yourfan5 She is like the epitome of princess-ness ❤️

gemmastyles I am unsure if I want to be that jacket or if I want to have that jacket.

↳ hsfan1 GEMMA IS HERE!

;

“I am not sure if I want to be that jacket or if I want to have that jacket.” Gemma Styles spoke up, her phone in hands, while she sat on the couch at her mother’s house. She could hear commotion in the adjacent kitchen before her mother came into the living room, a dish towel thrown over her right shoulder. “What did you say, darling?” Anne asked and stopped behind the couch to see what her daughter had seen on her phone. Gemma pointed to the screen where Instagram was opened, and the Princess of England, wearing an oversized jeans jacket with colorful shoulders, was seen. Anne hummed and eyed the picture intently. “It suits her very well,” she decided, and Gemma nodded. “It really does! She is so effortlessly beautiful, just as Harry is. This is unfair.” Gemma sighed, and her mother chuckled. “Don’t be so harsh to yourself, love. You are just as beautiful as she is.”

The reassuring sound was interrupted by an entering Harry.

“Gemma is as beautiful as who? Me?” He grinned, and his sister rolled her eyes at his antics. “Very funny, Harold,” Gemma returned and threw a pillow in his vague direction, which he caught mid-air. “But for your information, I meant her.” And with that, his sister almost shoved the phone in his face after he had plopped down onto the couch next to the brunette. Harry got a hold of it before it fell him on the nose and stared at the familiar feed of Instagram with an even more familiar face.

His teenage crush was suddenly right in front of him again.

It was a strange feeling to see that face again after his time oversea, where news about the Royal Family was as scarce as rain in Death Valley. Well, he never was a huge fan of gossip, but her face always stood out—not because of negative headlines, quite the opposite, except that one time he could remember vividly because the entire country had been in shock.

Shaking his head, Harry tried to push those thoughts away because he was painfully aware of the stares his sister and mother gave him. Everyone in his family knew about that silly little crush of his.

“Yeah, she is gorgeous, you are gorgeous, everyone is gorgeous,” he mumbled, thoughts still not back on track. Gemma grinned at that. “Does someone still has a crush?” She almost sang the last word, and Harry nudged his laughing sister in the side until she fell to the side and landed on the decorative couch pillows. “Stop it, G. ‘S not funny.” He was almost embarrassed.

He was a worldwide known and successful 25-years old singer; he was a grown man. He shouldn’t have crushes on princesses or actresses or actors or princes. It was stupid.

His mom softly caressed his fluffy hair before bending down and pressing a kiss on his head. “It’s totally fine to have crushes, love, even if one is a grown adult.” It was as if she could read his mind, but she was his mother, after all; the one human he told everything that happened in his life. Scoffing, he slouched in the soft furniture and shrugged. “Still, I don’t know what you mean,” he tried to escape this topic by turning the tv on—but there her face was plastered over the news because, unlike the other years before, the New Year’s charity gala where she would be the main speaker was supposed to get broadcasted.

He really couldn’t escape his heavily—but foolishly—beating heart.

;

I am so excited for this small series and hope you liked the prologue! As usual: comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated :3

Taglist: @onecrazydirectioner

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eviesaurusrex · 2 years

Text

ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ʟᴏɴᴇʟʏ

Harry Styles x British Royal!Reader

Her Royal Highness Princess YN, daughter to Prince Charles and late Princess Diana, Prince and Princess of Wales, younger sister to Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, and Prince Harry, Duke of Sussex, and granddaughter to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II and His Royal Highness Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh would’ve never thought to meet Harry Styles by accident—by literally running into him. And Harry Styles would’ve never considered meeting the Princess of England again after that seemingly fateful afternoon.

faceclaim: Saoirse Ronan

author’s note: I still can’t comprehend the immense feedback and support this series got so far! Thank you so damn much for that, it seriously means the world to me <33 Attention: this is long. Like, really long.

series masterlist

;

sunflowerbutterfly Why am I still part of this circus.

Liked by murderbane, archielives, gingerprince and 4 others | 10 comments

archielives 🥺🥲

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I should’ve hidden in your suitcase when you left for the states 💀

↳ archielives I should’ve just grabbed and taken you with me.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly That’s categorized as treason, my friend. Would’ve made you the enemy of the state but not the Will Smith kinda type💀

↳ archielives I don’t care. The President of the United States would’ve understood it.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly … you mean the 🍊? I don’t think so. President Obama? That’s another story.

liked by archielives and murderbane

gingerprince What did Granny do this time?

↳ MacMark Better question: What did she not do?

↳ gingerprince Touché.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I’ll text in our group later ❤️

↳ MacMark Should I bring you something, lovely? Cookies? Lemonade? I think I saw some strawberry lemonade on my way up.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly That would be actually kinda sweet, Meg 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

liked by MacMark and gingerprince

murderbane Who do I have to murder?

liked by archielives, sunflowerbutterfly, MacMark and 2 others

↳ sunflowerbutterfly No one, Mer.

↳ murderbane I would do it.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly No, you wouldn’t because you’re not even capable of killing an insect.

↳ archielives YNN is not wrong.

↳ murderbane I hate you both.

liked by sunflowerbutterfly and archielives

;

“So, let me repeat that to get that straight into my head,” Meredith started while YN sipped her cocktail through the colorful straw accompanying it, chin propped up in her palm. “You have Harry Styles’ number for a week and a half saved in your phone and still didn’t call him? Are you sick, YNN?! Do I have to call an ambulance?” Her voice raised a couple of octaves, but YN only could shrug her shoulders half-heartedly. “It is complicated, okay?” More didn’t leave her mouth before her lips closed around the straw again, and the princess took a long sip, feeling the alcohol seeping into her body and letting her feel lighter. The burdens, usually resting on her shoulders, almost flew above her now.

She knew that alcohol never was the solution, but sometimes even YN couldn’t resist the tempting liquid.

Mer watched her over the edge of her own glass, blonde brows furrowed, and forehead wrinkled. “I saw the pictures, YNN. It didn’t seem complicated in that Starbucks or that park.” Her voice was softer now, and YN felt as if she wanted to cry right on this very chair, in this packed bar, somewhere in London. A thought seemed to strike her best friend while YN started to nibble listless and without appetite on a mozzarella stick. “What did she say?” The princess didn’t need to ask who Meredith meant by she. There was only one she who could ruin her week, and it certainly wasn’t Camilla. Her father’s wife was a nuisance on worst days, but nothing more.

Shrugging, YN let the mozzarella stick fall back into the basket before wiping her hand with the tissue lying next to it. “Rambled something about he isn’t a proper association for a princess and that I have to think about my family and my position.” Her voice was laced with unbelief and something resembling… rage. The latter was unlike YN because she usually was truly a peaceful individual, always searching for a way to solve conflicts—without hatred and anger.

Meredith choked on her cocktail and coughed to get the liquid out of her windpipe before taking a deep breath. “She lost her mind,” her friend decided, and YN laughed joylessly while Mer furrowed her brows even more. “What was her reason for this rubbish?” The blonde princess pulled the straw out of her glass and let it fall onto the tissue next to her hand before grabbing the drink and taking a bigger sip than necessary. “He is a singer, and, most importantly, it’s the way he dresses. His fucking clothes, Mer! Utter bullshit,” seethed the internally boiling woman, and Meredith couldn’t help it but chuckle softly at her rare outbursts, even though the topic wasn’t something she could laugh about. Meredith emptied her beverage and showed a final nod. “It’s official. The Queen of England threw her mind out of the window. No wonder Archie left this shitshow. Sorry.” YN hummed softly; the sound got almost swallowed by the sea of noises around them and the beating music in the background. “Don’t need to apologize, love. It’s true—my life is a shitshow. Think about it. I’m never utterly and truly free, even though they try to mask it that way, but at the same time, ordering me around and trying to control which people I am allowed to consider friends. Utter. Bollocks.” YN fell silent, emptying her cocktail and letting the glass hit the table a tad too hard. “No wonder my mom lost her mind.”

Sadness etched its way into her mind, and the feeling of longing wasn’t an unusual companion for the young woman. In such situations, she missed her mother more than she already did every day of her damned life. YN believed it would be easier to handle if Diana was still alive and still by her side to guide her through the strong tide of protocols, rules, and demanding people. Diana would help her escape from time to time—fully escape. But all of it was a silly, childish dream because her mother was dead, and no power on earth could bring her back.

Camilla would know how to prevent that.

A soft hand clasping hers pulled YN back into reality and out of her spiraling mind. Her eyes found her best friend, a worried and apologetic expression on her face. “Don’t say that,” she pleaded. “You are not your mom. You won’t live like her because I’m here, and I’m here to help and stay. And that’s why I’m telling you to call this angel of a man. I’m sure his personality will brighten up your day. Think about it: He gave you his number. He wanted you to call.” YN swallowed dryly at that thought and lowered her gaze, her pointer finger following the edge of her glass. “He said he wants to see me again. That day of our first meeting,“ the princess confessed to her best friend, and just as anticipated, Meredith almost freaked out but remembered where they were and lowered her tone. “Are you freaking kidding me?! YNN, that’s… that’s amazing! And so sweet!” But the excitement soon died down at the face her friend showed. “Oh no,” the Brisbane mumbled, while the blonde only pulled her shoulders up to her ears—a clear sign of her spiraling thoughts and rising anxiety. “What if he only wants to see me again for the tabloids, the paparazzi, his impact on social media? What if he only sees the princess when he looks at me, the titles, my family, the attention he can gain through me? I experienced all of it, and it never seemed as if that were their intention. Never.”

She really had stood last in line while the universe had distributed the luck a human had in life. She always found the assholes within the sea of individuals. Or maybe she was a magnet for such people; a screaming, beckoning light in the dark ocean that was their miserable life until they could ruin a person. It was exhausting.

Meredith cocked a brow. “Do you really believe a single word you just spat out?” She looked up from her empty glass, chewing on her bottom lip. “I don’t know, Mer. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to think and what not. It’s a mess up here.” She pointed to her head and shook it. “I probably don’t believe a single word floating through my mind, but the fears are there anyway. I can’t turn them down or even off. And that’s probably why I haven’t called him yet.” Her best friend sighed while she softly patted YN’s hand. “What about a deal? You gonna call this poor man who is definitely sulking somewhere in England, asking himself what he did wrong because his phone still isn’t ringing, and if he turns out to be an asshole like everyone else, you hit me up, and I will end this bastard. Deal?”

Swallowing, YN nodded, and suddenly, Meredith pushed the basket with the mozzarella sticks right in front of her. “Perfect. And now, you’re gonna eat those damn sticks because they’re part of your culinary journey in becoming a peasant—and because I paid eleven pounds for these bastards.”

;

sunflowerbutterfly Hi, I’m YN, and that’s 100% me.

By the way: Behold and witness my immaculate photoshop skills. ✨Digital art is my passion✨

Liked by murderbane, archielives, and 3 others | 4 comments

murderbane Do I have to move my ass over to Kensington?

↳ sunflowerbutterfly …no.

↳ murderbane Call him. NOW.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Stop screaming, I’m sensitive!

archielives Call him. NOW.

liked by murderbane

↳ sunflowerbutterfly WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

↳ archielives Call him.

↳ archielives Now.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Remind me again not to send you anything for your birthday.

↳ murderbane I will send you something, Arch!

liked by archielives

;

It took her another day to finally take the phone from its station.

—

Harry had just ended a fresh verse for a new song that had stuck in his head ever since that day, as his phone started to vibrate, announcing an incoming call. His band members had never seen him react this fast; usually, Harry barely acknowledged his phone when writing songs inside the studio, but in the past almost two weeks, he had acted differently, and not only Sarah suspected something.

“Yes, hello?” He sounded out of breath, his heart jumping in his chest and up to his throat. “Mr. Styles, this is the Royal Palace of Kensington. Her Royal Highness, Princess YN, would like to talk to you. I’m connecting the call now. Have a good night, sir,” the authoritative, nameless voice explained without waiting for even a second if that was alright. Well, it certainly was, and probably no one in his right mind would decline a call from the palace, so it made sense. Still, it felt odd to the singer, but those thoughts vanished immediately as a short beeping sound announced the connected call.

Silence settled into the line before her voice spoke up. “Uhm… hi? Oh gosh, is this even the right number? Shit. Uhm… if you are not Harry Styles, then I am truly and immensely sorry for bothering you, and even if you are Harry Styles, I am sorry for bothering you so late. Shit, I did not check the time before deciding this, I-…” Harry chuckled lowly and closed his pen. “YN?” His voice asked softly into his phone and let her pause. “It’s me, and it’s totally fine. You didn’t wake or disturb me,” he promised with a gentle smile spreading on his lips.

Sarah and Mitch, who had wanted to go over some things, now sat awfully still and quiet in the studio and listened to him with wide eyes.

A deep, relieved sigh traveled through the call. “Oh God, for a second, I seriously thought I gave them the wrong number. I am too bad with numbers. This always ends in a catastrophic disaster, so please, keep that in mind if you ever want me to calculate something. I am not even able to remember my own phone number correctly, which I have owned since 2009. And now I’m rambling. Gosh, I am so sorry. And now I’m apologizing again. Universe, please send some help.” The last sentence was definitely not meant for his ears, but her whispering was too precious, and Harry was glad he had heard that. It made her even more human—and so, so relatable. “I keep that in mind,” he grinned, leaning back into his chair but turning a tad serious now. “I thought I’d never hear from you.” He almost mumbled the words, not wanting to pressure her in anything or make her feel guilty. Another sigh reached his ear. “I know, and I’m sorry for that too. I had a lot of responsibilities, and after a day that started at four-thirty in the morning and ended way past ten in the night, I didn’t feel like I would be great company. And… well, I am not self-confidence in person, so that came on top.”

Harry felt his heart leap in his chest at her words. So she thought about me too, the singer grinned before standing up and moving to the cushioned corner in the studio. “I totally get that, don’t worry. I just thought… well. I don’t know what I thought. Maybe that I made a mistake or offended you in any way, I wasn’t aware of.” The brunette heard a chuckle, and he had to laugh softly as well. “Maybe we should decide right here, right now, to just jump into the cold water in any case of doubts and episodes of overthinking,” YN suggested with another chuckle, and Harry thought that he had never grinned this wide in his entire life. “I think that’s a great idea. Maybe we should toast to our deal with another coffee.”

He swallowed hard after the suggestion, which had slipped out of his mouth without a second thought on how that sounded, but her answering voice, instead of the beeping sound of an ended call, saved his rapidly beating heart from exploding. “Smooth, Mr. Styles, exceptionally smooth.” He could hear her grin from the opposite end of London. “What about a day trip? Just… getting out of London and maybe somewhere more peaceful? Don’t get me wrong, I love this city with my entire heart, but-“ Harry continued her sentence. “-but the paparazzi are horrible.”

He knew that feeling all too well.

“Yes! Exactly this. So… Would you be up for it? We don’t have to drive far. Maybe Reading? Oxford is a bit farther, but not as far as Brighton or Portsmouth…” Harry had to admit that he loved to listen to her ramble, slipping into the depths of her mind. It was the most adoring thing he had ever witnessed, and he hoped instantly to hear it even more often. “We can go wherever you want to go,” he returned and meant it with every single part of his being. “Reading, Oxford, Cambridge, Brighton, Bath… Road trips are fun.” He could hear her smile again—she almost always let a very short, very quiet chuckle out while forming her lips into a smile. It was strange how fast he had caught up to one of her habits. Harry had to ask himself what else he could explore when spending more time with the princess. Everything in his body tingled at the prospect of more time with YN.

“Bath is a bit far for only a day trip, don’t you think? And… do I need to prepare something special for a… road trip?” The princess spoke the word as if it meant traveling to the moon, and Harry had to cock a brow. “Your Royal Highness, do you try to let me know that you never experienced the magic of a road trip?” His voice had gained a teasing tone, the nervousness finally disappearing. Her groan made him laugh under his breath. “Do not dare and tease me about my lack of experience and knowledge! Meredith—my best friend—is not particularly hyped for long car journeys, and Archie—my other best friend—didn’t have a driver’s license until he moved to the States. And asking my two shadows always seemed kind of… odd. Not to mention my family, even though Harry would have done it if I had asked really nicely.”

The other Harry—it was funny thinking like that about himself—hummed, interested, listening intently about her life and family. He only had known the things made public, and even those were probably straight-up lies. Well, most of them, at least. “I would never think of it,” he grinned before humming again, deep in thought now.

“We would need a good playlist for the road.”

He could hear her scribble on paper.

“Consider this done,” YN decided, and Harry thought further.

“Snacks and drinks, of course.”

“That’s my job as well.”

“You can cook?” He didn’t intend to sound this surprised, but YN gladly only laughed wholeheartedly. “Yes, I am capable of following recipes and actually am able to cook and bake without them—without poisoning everyone around me, thank you very much.” Harry fully ignored Sarah’s and Mitch’s stares at his loud laugh escaping him now. “I’ll keep that in mind. But I’m providing the drinks. Is it true that you love strawberry lemonade, or is that just a straight-up lie created by tabloids to boost beverage production?” He waited for an answer while already planning to ask his mom for her recipe. “This one is, surprisingly, very true. But don’t believe the things about my morning routine if you ever stumble upon them. Who drinks Earl Grey with raw eggs? Is that even a helpful concoction in the eyes of the beauty industry? I believe not.“

It was official: Harry could listen to her all day long and wouldn’t get tired of her voice. Quite the opposite was the case—he craved more and more of those soft sounds leaving her lips.

“I can outdo this easily. I only have to say three words: bull testicles moisturizer.” Her escaping laugh was almost like music in his ear, and he wanted to write songs about it.

Harry, deep breaths. The century’s biggest crush is showing.

But it was too hard when she was not only stunningly beautiful but also funny, intelligent, and one of the gentlest and most compassionate human beings walking on this planet.

“Tabloids only hire a certain kind of people, don’t they?” YN still laughed but took a deep breath. “Okay, back to the topic at hand: do we need a picnic blanket? I mean, it is still February, and the last snow only melted yesterday, but… I don’t know, the thought seemed so enticing in my head, but it is probably not manageable without getting a horrible cold. Which I cannot cast upon you, fine sir, and I am not allowed to get sick any time soon either.” Harry could hear incomprehensible mumble reaching his ear, and he already figured out what that meant. “Busy schedule?” He desperately wanted to know more about her life; maybe he could help her a bit, and if it would just contain road trips here and there, he would do it. “Kind of. The birthday of my uncle—Edward—is coming up, and Granny is head over heels for the idea of a ball. Nothing big or fancy like the Royal Caledonian Ball in May, but still something I have to attend in a fancy, uncomfortable dress and torturing heels,” she explained with a soft groan, and Harry smiled at her being so completely normal. If the world only knew that… “How about that: We will leave the picnic blanket for now, but we’ll take it on a road trip another time?” He had spoken the words without thinking—again. He wanted to hit himself.

“Are you already planning another trip with me, Harry?” In his panicky screaming mind, he couldn’t process her tone, or if YN smiled, so he stammered around it. “I… It shouldn’t… I didn’t…” But her gentle laugh silenced him, though he could feel the blood rushing into his cheeks. “I was only teasing you, Harry. I’d be honored to have a road trip companion. So… When do you think we can do it? I’d love to say we could leave right away or tomorrow, but I’m visiting a children’s hospital.” His heart almost jumped out of his chest, and Harry had to take a deep breath. “What about next week? Tuesday? Most tourists will be around during the weekend.” He tried to think about anything that would make this day impossible to maneuver around it. “Tuesday sounds perfect. Do you want my number? Just in case something comes up?” Harry swallowed, eyes widening, but he nodded even though YN couldn’t see it. “That would be great, though there won’t be coming anything up.” He would know how to prevent that from happening.

After he had scribbled down her number next to the verse he had written earlier this evening, there was a short silence between them before YN cleared her throat.

“…Harry?”

He perked up. “Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you were my collision partner in that Starbucks.”

The singer could hear her smile appearing again—and he smiled as well.

“Me too, YN.”

;

haroldsmind He can’t stop writing. Wonder why that’s so. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with those phone calls he always accepts within a millisecond, nope 👀 Sincerely, Mitch (yes, I stole his phone for this post)

Liked by annetwist, gemmastyles, pillowpersonpp and 3 others | 5 comments

jefezoff Or that free Tuesday he demands he needs 👀

gemmastyles Phone calls? I need details? 👀

annetwist Mhmmmm 😇

haroldsmind And I wondered where my phone was. Thanks, man.

liked by mitchrowland, jefezoff, and pillowpersonpp

↳ mitchrowland I had to do it.

↳ haroldsmind And why’s that?

↳ mitchrowland Capturing it for the future so I can say “I told you”?

liked by pillowpersonpp and jefezoff

pillowpersonpp Don’t mess this up, Haz, thank you.

↳ haroldsmind I don’t know what you mean.

↳ pillowpersonpp Don’t act dumb, I want to meet her.

sunflowerbutterfly And suddenly, a bouquet of flowers appeared on my doorsteps 🙊🥺

Liked by MacMark, gingerprince, archielives and 4 others | 6 comments

archielives Excuse me while I cry in my pillows (out of pure happiness)

liked by MacMark and murderbane

MacMark Mhmmmm? 👀

↳ sunflowerbutterfly 👉🏻👈🏻

↳ MacMark I want to hear everything after that horrible family dinner tonight.

gingerprince Okay, yeah. Interesting. Do you mind pointing me in the direction of the suitor, so I can play out the big brother act?

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I seriously don’t know what you mean.

↳ gingerprince I call bullshit.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Ah ah ah! Don’t let Grandmother dearest hear that. She could get the impression the Americans rub off on you 💀

liked by MacMark

↳ MacMark What a shock it might be if she learns that Harry was already like that before we even met 👀

liked by sunflowerbutterfly

;

YN would’ve lied if she said she wasn’t nervous as she climbed into the waiting Jeep after Bernard had pulled up in front of the palace. He had handed her the keys with a smile—he knew just as well as she that she hadn’t driven her car ever since returning from Oxford—while Aaron and Egil situated themselves in the black Audi behind her. At least she would have some privacy before picking up Harry, so she could try and calm her nerves a bit.

“Everything will be fine. Everything will be okay. It’s nothing. Just a day with the hottest and most handsome and wonderful male individual gracing this earth with his presence. It’s nothing unusual, YN. Nothing to worry about.”

She tried to calm herself with the newfound whispered mantra but failed miserably, even until the last intersection she had to cross. It was as if she was back at square one and as if the nightly phone—and even FaceTime—calls didn’t happen for the last six days. It was maddening.

Stopping at the given address marked the point of no return, especially because the door leading to his property had already got opened, and Harry bloody Styles appeared in all his handsomely glory. He held a basket in hand on which two thick blankets laid, neatly rolled up, and an umbrella in his other hand—you never knew in England. Harry turned after closing the door and spotted the described Jeep immediately—plus the sleek black Audi waiting behind it.

“Hey,” the man smiled after putting the basket in the trunk and climbing into the car seat. YN released a relieved sigh and returned the smile. “Hey,” was all she could return before—in an impulsive reaction—she leaned over the middle console and pressed a featherlike kiss on his cheek. He chuckled after YN pulled herself back onto her side of the car, cheeks trying to challenge a hydrant. “I guess the flowers arrived?” The princess nodded with another smile and started the engine to leave London behind for the day. “They did. And… and they are breathtakingly beautiful. Thank you. How did you know that periwinkles and cream roses are my favorites?” A curious expression settled on her slightly concentrated face as she maneuvered through the heavy London-ish traffic, and Harry couldn’t stop himself from staring and watching her. “I didn’t,” he grinned softly. “I just went into that flower shop, saw the florist unpacking a fresh box of cream roses and periwinkles, and thought, They look gorgeous, I have to send her them, and the rest is history, as one would say.”

She could feel how her cheeks proceeded with their goal to be just as similar as a hydrant while turning onto the A40, heading to Oxford. They had decided upon her beloved city of scarce freedom two nights ago while talking about their respective lives, and YN had sucked every word of him up like much-needed oxygen. But somewhere along the FaceTime call, during which she had settled in the comforts of her bed, the princess had fallen asleep, and Harry still couldn’t comprehend the burning but soft, warm feeling that had spread through his body at the sight of her peaceful sleeping face—because his voice had guided her into slumber. He still felt privileged because he had seen her in her most vulnerable state so far: in the comforts of her home no one outside her family and friends had ever seen before and her trust to let him see her sleep.

Don’t try to talk yourself out of it, Harry. This crush is still there, and you are falling even harder for this woman.

It was probably very true.

“Then you must be a wizard—or the Fates had their fun,” YN grinned, eyes quickly jumping up to the rear mirror before changing the lane, black Audi still behind her. She could never outrun them, not even if she took lessons with the Fast and the Furious cast. “You know, I can drive us as well.” But at his words, the princess settled into an even more comfortable seating position—almost slouching in the driver’s seat. “Nah-uh. You can drive us back home if you like, but maybe I won’t let you then either because it was my idea.” She paused, and her thumb softly stroked over the steering wheel. “And I missed driving, to be quite honest. Haven’t done it since returning to London full-time.” Harry slouched as well; long legs outstretched and an elbow propped up on the small space next to the window. “So, this is a drive along memory lane?” He asked, and YN nodded with a radiant smile. “It totally is, yep. I always took this road when driving back on Sundays if my presence was needed in good ol’ London. Same car, same black Audi behind me, with the exact same men inside it. But this now… this is much better.” Harry could witness the transformation from that radiant smile into a shy one and—again—couldn’t stop staring.

YN chuckled, embarrassed, and shook her head softly. “That sounded too cheesy, even for my standards,” she mumbled, but suddenly, she felt a warm, much bigger hand enveloping the one resting on the gear stick, lacing their fingers together. The princess only spared a quick glance down but was taken aback at how good their hands looked together; how they fitted almost perfectly. She had never thought that this was possible—that her brain went into overdrive just at the mere sight of two hands together. Or that her stomach fluttered like a tornado of butterflies at the feeling of his warm skin pressed against hers in the most innocent but intimate gestures this world had to offer.

But there was probably always a time for firsts.

“Not too cheesy,” Harry almost whispered, and YN couldn’t stop but push their fingers closer together, getting a better hold on them and reveling in this unexpected feeling. “Okay,” she grinned softly and pointed her finger in the direction of the audio system. “Would you mind? I’m a bit… preoccupied.” Laughing, Harry watched her as she helplessly shrugged her shoulders; one hand at the steering wheel and the other clasped in the soft embrace of his hand. “Of course.” He touched the display to wake it up and was suddenly faced with a fully prepared playlist. Instead of looking through the titles YN had put on there, he only started the list and widened his eyes as the first tunes of Heart Of The Country by Paul McCartney filled the car.

“Where did you…-“ Harry couldn’t even end his question, too stunned he felt, and YN reveled in his expressions. “I wasn’t an A-student for nothing.” The satisfied grin was accompanied by her thumb gently caressing his hand—YN could not not cave into that desire. “I took my research very seriously,” the princess nodded proudly, while Harry leaned even further back into the seat and shook his head unbelievingly. “You constantly amaze me, Your Highness,” he finally spoke as Heart Of The Country ended, and Bridge Over Troubled Water started. YN granted herself one very quick look over to him, saw his slightly blushed cheeks, the small smile on his lips, those mesmerizing eyes settled entirely upon her, and looked back to the traffic in front of her.

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

She really wasn’t sure.

His following chuckle would’ve swept her off her feet if she didn’t sit already.

“It’s more than just a good thing.” So much more.

;

ynismyqueen Excuse me while I sob uncontrollably.

SHE WAS ONLY A HANDFUL OF FEET AWAY FROM ME.

I BREATHED THE SAME AIR AS SHE DID

‼️AND HARRY WAS WITH HER‼️

Liked by royalistsbitch, yn_harryshipper, yourfan1, hsfan1, and 358 others | 99 comments

royalistsbitch I spilled my tea.

yn_harryshipper WHAT?! IS MY DREAM REALLY COMING TRUE

↳ ynismyqueen I THINK SO??!!! They sat SO close to one another 😩 And their expressions were EVERYTHING 😩

↳ yn_harryshipper screaming crying dying right now.

hsfan1 another account posted the pictures of Harry, but I can’t find them anymore!!! 😭

↳ hsfan2 perhaps you mean harrystylesfanpage?

↳ hsfan1 Yes. YES! Thanks so much!

liked by harrystylesfanpage and hsfan2

yourfan1 Can somebody recall a day in the past months where she looked this happy???

↳ yourfan2 Nope.

↳ ynismyqueen Only the day she met Harry in that Starbucks

↳ yourfan1 True! I missed her smile 🥺

↳ yourfan2 +1

↳ ynismyqueen +2

harrystylesforever I probably died, and this is just the afterlife where all your ships become a reality.

Liked by ynismyqueen, yourfan1, hsfan1, hsfan2, harrystylesfanpage, and 1,219 others | 311 comments

hsfan1 i kinda love the content, but i kinda feel bad because those photos violet their privacy, urgh

liked by yourfan1 and 113 others

↳ yourfan1 Same, bestie, same.

hsfan2 Look at how they sit 😮‍💨

ynismyqueen Still not over these two. And it’s so sweet that they do it here in Oxford because Oxford means so much to YN 🥹❤️

↳ yourfan2 Had the same thought. She probably showed him her favorite spots in the city 🥺

harrystylesfanpage We’re really rooting for these two now. Haters gonna hate soon, but we don’t care. We love a happy Harry! And a happy YN!

;

sunflowerbutterfly Who needs cooks when they have a cooking Harry? 🤷🏼‍♀️

Liked by murderbane, gingerprince, MacMark, and 3 others | 4 comments

MacMark Harry Styles is in the palace kitchen, and nobody thought to give me a heads up?

↳ sunflowerbutterfly We sneaked in. No grand announcements possible 🤷🏼‍♀️

↳ MacMark Aha 👀

gingerprince You are lucky I’m not there.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly 🙄💀

↳ gingerprince But seriously, YNN. I wanna have a word with him if this continues.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I don’t know what you mean, Henry Charles Albert David.

↳ murderbane COULD YOU PLEASE STOP WITH THE SELF DENIAL?!

liked by gingerprince

↳ gingerprince Thank you, Meredith. What she said 👆🏻

liked by murderbane

↳ sunflowerbutterfly I hate you both. If you’ll excuse me, I have a guest.

archielives YOU GO GIRL!!!

murderbane Will the cooks keep their mouths shut?

↳ archielives They will. They adore YN to pieces.

haroldsmind Chef Harold is here to save the day👨🏽‍🍳

↳ sunflowerbutterfly Well, the food is already smelling (and looking) delicious

↳ murderbane I can’t see the first reply, but I’m sure it’s Harry, so here is the 1,000,000£ question of the evening: Do you really mean the food or the cook only inches away from said food?

liked by archielives

↳ sunflowerbutterfly 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

↳ archielives Those emojis won’t save you, dear.

liked by murderbane

;

“Do you need anything else, Your Highness?” One of the cooks asked after Harry had divided the spaghetti between two plates—the plain white ones, not the fancy porcelain with the white gold designed edges—and YN shook her head while Harry gathered the two plates and a bottle of wine. She already held the two mugs in hand, out of which they would drink it. Who needs fancy glasses made out of crystal? “No, Chef Laurent, but thank you. You all can head home and to bed—we will be just fine. But please don’t lock the freezer, that would be really great, and I would appreciate it on an entirely different level.”

Who knew, maybe she craved ice cream at night?

The chef of chefs nodded and started to usher everyone out of his realm. “You know it is only Laurent, Your Highness,” he scolded her with a smile, but YN shrugged. “And you know I told you I would start using only your name if you drop the title as well. Good night!” YN coaxed the bottle out of Harry’s grasp, smile on her face, so that he could use both hands for the plates, and guided him back to her apartment after passing the several stairs to the second floor of the east wing. It was far enough away from her brother, Kate, and the kids to be quiet enough but not too far away if YN felt the need for her eldest brother’s hugs or advice from her sister-in-law. And so the entire second-floor wing belonged to her—including the attic above her six-room apartment.

“They really love you,” Harry said, and the princess cocked her head slowly from side to side, unsure. “Maybe. Maybe they are just friendly because they have known me my entire life and always had to keep up with me stealing the cakes out of the cooling room. Maybe they are just friendly because they get paid to be. Who knows.” She always had a hard time believing that people actually liked her for herself and not for the title, her family, or position—the latter containing connections and relationships with powerful and influential people. She had learned early in her life that it wasn’t her title that contained said things because even with a title, one could be as insignificant as a stone in the mud.

Her uncle Andrew was only the most recent example. The thought alone made her skin prickle in the most unpleasant of ways.

But Harry thought differently about the kitchen staff. “I believe they do. I’m not blind; I saw their faces when we entered, and you greeted them. They love you. They would cook you the grandest dinner in the middle of the night if you’d ask. And, to be honest, it doesn’t surprise me a bit.” They had reached the last step and turned right to pass the long corridor and finally reach the french doors to her very own realm. “Why doesn’t it?” YN had to ask. Harry grinned down at the blonde, and if he didn’t carry their dinner, he would stretch a hand out to push that blonde strand out of her face and behind her ear, maybe steal a quick touch of her soft skin. But instead, she did it herself with a hectic move which he knew that it screamed insecurity. “Because you, YN, are a compassionate and loving person. You treat people with unbelievable kindness and tend to them if they need you. I saw those pictures from your trip to the hospital—every single one of these kids, and even their parents and the staff loved you. They respect you. It’s who you are. And it’s inevitable to fall to your feet.”

He swallowed before turning again and walking to the mentioned doors, the princess closely next to him. She opened one of them without a single word and let them into her sacred halls. Harry let his eyes wander again—they had been up here shortly before going down to the kitchen and making dinner—and he still couldn’t grasp the coziness of this place. Everything seemingly screamed “YN” in every octave and sound he could imagine. He may not know her for long, but it was enough to picture the perfect home for the woman now striding to the small coffee table in front of the fireplace to clean it off books and paperwork. Two comfortable-looking pillows found their way onto the softly looking carpet; two fluffy blankets followed just as closely. He carried the two plates over, settled them onto the table, and plopped down next to YN on the ground, watching her as she skillfully decapitated the wine and poured it into the two mugs.

She finally looked up to him again because even while sitting, Harry almost loomed over her. “Which one do you like?” The question got asked with both mugs in hands, raising them now onto eye level, so Harry could inspect each of them more closely. “A fancy and noteworthy selection, miss, and a tough decision.” She nodded, suppressing her grin. “Indeed,” YN answered with the most serious tone she could master. “I will happily take the I survived my trip to New York City mug if you don’t mind.” The princess handed the white mug with the yellow cab over to the singer while taking a better hold of her own mug Meredith had made for her birthday three years ago. The dark blue “YN’s Rule #16 - Never mess with a Princess’ coffee if you want to live” still made her chuckle every time she looked at that mug. She may have graduated with honors, but she definitely had pulled many all-nighters with Mer to watch every single episode of NCIS. She still was a young woman with a burning passion for tv shows and Hollywood movies, after all.

“An excellent choice, sir,” YN grinned before taking the first sip of some white wine she had found in the kitchen—and which suited their dinner if one could believe a world-known chef. But then, she turned serious again, swallowing dryly before opening her mouth and asking the boiling and tickling question. “You said something about it being inevitable to fall to my feet. Does… does this statement include… well, you?” Only a second after the question mark had left her lips, the princess felt the blood rushing into her face, and her lungs stopped working entirely while her heart working overtime. Almost hectically, the blonde turned to their food and tried to find the manual on how to use a fork again in her brain. But emptiness was all that greeted her up there. “I’m sorry,” YN whispered then, not daring to raise her gaze. “I shouldn’t have asked that. It is none of my business, I suppose, so… forget I ever asked.” The muscle in her chest ached, and YN wished desperately to reverse the past twenty seconds to return to the fluffy mood they had created with those silly mugs.

A warm finger underneath her chin guided YN’s face gently into another direction, pushing her to look Harry right into his handsome face, those sea green eyes intently wandering over her face before they stared right into hers. “If you allow it.” His voice was a husky whisper in the silence of her living room. YN blinked slowly, not daring to move too fast in utter fear she would destroy this moment when moving too suddenly. “What?” Her voice had never sounded this breathless in her entire life. Harry softly grabbed her chin with his thumb, his pointer finger still resting underneath it. “If you allow me to fall to your feet, I will happily do it. I’m probably already at your feet without even knowing it, hoping to have the honor to get to know you better, spend more time with you, show you how you deserve to be treated every single minute of every single day. To cook for you after a road trip, full of singing along the playlist, in that massive kitchen downstairs, while you’re sitting on the counter, reaching for every spice I need, adorable smile on your pretty face. To show you my kitchen and living room where we could play Monopoly all night long while eating Chinese takeout, reading the notes of our fortune cookies out loud. To take you out to a proper sushi restaurant because takeout sushi doesn’t count. Convincing you there that green tea and sushi are a delicious combination. I will do all that and more if you allow it.”

Harry stopped for a short moment to take a deep breath and tried to soothe his rapidly beating heart. Forgotten was the steaming pasta next to them, the wine in their silly mugs, the unfamiliar environment the singer found himself in.

Only YN had space in his mind.

Only YN was important now.

“Will you allow it, YN?”

And her barely observable nod was everything he had ever wanted.

;

haroldsmind Incognito 101: how to pull off the sunglasses-hat-combination without a single ray of sunshine.

Liked by pillowpersonpp, gemmastyles, annetwist, jefezoff, and 5 other | 8 comments

gemmastyles I think I just hyperventilated.

↳ annetwist Deep breaths, love 😇

↳ gemmastyles Don’t be the calm one now, Mom!!!!

jefezoff So, this is where you disappeared to today 👀

↳ mitchrowland I told you 👀

↳ jefezoff I know, but I thought it couldn’t be true 👀

pillowpersonpp Excuse me, I have to get my worldview in a new order.

sunflowerbutterfly I just entered this magical realm and suddenly faced myself. That’s surprising.

↳ sunflowerbutterfly (No, it is not because you asked very lovely if you could post this one here.)

↳ haroldsmind 😊

liked by gemmastyles, pillowpersonpp, annetwist, and 2 others

↳ gemmastyles He is using emojis. I’m repeating, he is using emojis.

↳ haroldsmind 🙄

liked by gemmastyles and sunflowerbutterfly

;

Lying between pillows, blankets, and comforters spread over the fluffy carpet in front of the now crackling fireplace, YN held Pride and Prejudice securely in her hands. Harry laid beside her, propped up on one arm, eyes fully taking in the woman next to him, while her lips moved and let the words of her most favorite novel out in the air.

“But vanity, not love, has been my folly. Pleased with the preference of one, and offended by the neglect of the other, on the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have courted prepossession and ignorance, and driven reason away, where either were concerned. Till this moment I never knew myself.”

The singer smiled at the sight of her closing eyes with a deep, comfortable sigh escaping YN and letting the old book slowly rest on her chest. The cover, though… “Wait. Is this the same book…?” Harry didn’t even need to end his question because YN turned her head, eyes opening, and her slight grin gave him the answer. “It looks so old. I remember thinking the same, especially while holding it, but I thought Harry, she would never bring an old book to a Starbucks.” Now, her grin held a piece of secret knowledge, and the princess sat up in their self-made coziness. Harry followed her close, still resting his weight on one hand that rested closely behind her back, and looked over her shoulder to see what she was doing. Her fingers let the pages fall back into their usual position and opened the first page. The tips of her fingers softly stroked over the old, yellowish paper until they reached the printed year of release. His eyes fell on the black ink above her finger, and the singer felt as if his eyes would pop out of his head.

“What the….-“ His voice died down, and he scooted closer, not thinking about it further, and not even the pressing feeling of their legs against each other could pull him out of his disbelieving daze. “This can’t be…” But her chuckle proved otherwise. “It is,” she grinned, and Harry stretched out his hand to intently grace the surface of this first edition. “And you brought this first edition to a Starbucks? Seriously?” YN chuckled again and let her thumb tenderly stroke over the cover after closing it. “It’s a bit… no, very posh, I know. But I never owned another copy of Pride and Prejudice because I never think about it when I’m in a bookstore. And… I’m biased in buying another edition, to be quite honest. They were my firsts, you know? Thanks to them, I fell in love with literature, with books, and the written word. It feels like betraying my one true love.” YN chuckled with a head shake.

But Harry understood it and nodded his head. “It’s like for me with music, with my guitars, my piano. I understand. It’s still more extra than I have ever thought could be possible.” YN shoved him playfully to his side, and the singer laughed loudly, the princess following close. “Better carrying one first edition volume rather than all three, don’t you think?” The brunette grinned up at the woman still sitting upright on their makeshift island of comfort. “True,” he agreed, and after YN had put the book on the soft cushions of the sofa next to them, she settled back onto their island, head slowly resting on Harry’s outstretched arm.

She moved her face to look up at him, furrowing her brows in question. “Is that okay?” The man hummed in agreement at the almost whispered ask—soft expression settling on his face while watching the blonde woman, settling closer to his body without even thinking.

“Was there ever a time when you wanted to do something different than what you do?” Her question pulled Harry back to her after losing himself in the view of her right next to him, head resting comfortably on his biceps. One shoulder got shrugged, and he was quiet for longer than intended because YN had started to play with a loose thread on his hoodie. “Before everything—before X-Factor and finding the boys, starting the band, going solo—I thought of attending university as my sister did. Maybe something along law, sociology, and business. But then everything changed, and I remember how I once sat in my room, trying to figure everything out, and thought how music had changed my life and, finally, that music was the one thing I wanted to do. Plus, I never was a good student, so university would have probably been a struggle throughout.”

While talking, Harry had looked upwards to the ceiling, but now, his gaze settled back on YN, realizing that she had observed him while telling her all these things. And at the sight of her bright blue eyes, which always reminded him of a spring or summer sky, he had to ask something. “Do you mind it?” Creases formed on her pale forehead as YN knitted her eyebrows. “What do you mean?” Her voice was quiet, not to disturb the peace they had found after dinner. “Do you mind I never went to university? Never graduated and earned degrees?” The princess propped herself up on one arm and starring down onto the brunette with still knitted brows. “Are you asking me if I mind that you’re a singer?” At his nod, YN sighed gently and, with her fingertip, booped his nose. “Of course not, silly,” she smiled. “I actually admire you and your decision to do what you love, to follow your heart. It’s more than I have ever done.” Now it was her turn to shrug her shoulder. “My decision to study literature was the only thing in my life I actually decided myself without getting pressured into it.”

Now thinking more closely about it, YN decided that her life was not only sad but pathetic.

“What would you do if you had the choice?” Harry’s question let YN settle back closely next to him—he was so perfectly warm and invitingly comfortable to snuggle up to, and his arm the best pillow in the world. She didn’t need to think long about it. “Probably something with literature. Maybe an editor—finding new talents in the writing industry, publishing them, giving them a voice. Or maybe something with art.” The easel in the other room almost screamed for her undivided attention. Harry looked surprised but impressed. “I didn’t know you painted,” he said, and YN hummed, moving her head slowly closer and closer to his shoulder. “Few people know about it. The public does not belong to this circle of knowing people, though. There are few things they don’t know about me, and I revel in every single one of them—my painting and drawing are a part of it.” Harry chuckled at the mischievous glimmer in her blue eyes. “You little devil,” the singer whispered, a grin tucking at his lips, and, without a second thought, pressed a tender kiss to the princess’s forehead and hairline.

YN closed her eyes at the feeling of his lips against her skin; relishing in it because it had been long since her heart had fluttered like an excited bird in a cage, shortly before it would get opened to release the little creature into freedom. “It’s a lonely life,” she suddenly whispered, barely above her breath, because the princess had never admitted this part of her mind, not even to Archibald or Meredith. “Tell me about it.” Harry’s response was just as quiet as hers. “There isn’t much to tell. It is just… lonely, especially when one of your parents is already long dead and your father has a new wife you never warmed up to, and when you are constantly surrounded by people who do not care for you. I’m barely alone. And yet I feel incredibly lonesome. I have Meredith, of course, but she has her own wonderfully successful life, and I am so immensely proud of her and her achievements. Archibald escaped this life because it was easy for him—too far behind in succession to have a realistic chance. But I cannot… leave. I have to stay and hope to not lose my mind like my mother somewhere along the road and do something irrational and destroyingly.” YN stopped to breathe deeply; trying to fight down the rising tears. “I’ve never expected to be so lonely and to feel like I am trapped constantly,” she finally muttered, feeling Harry’s arm slowly enveloping her shoulders and tightening his hold on her. But it didn’t hurt—quite the opposite: she felt protected in the best possible way.

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered into her blonde hair, feeling her shrug under his arm and hand. “I should be used to it by now, but sometimes the feeling and thoughts return like a crashing wave, and I have to figure out how to prevent being dragged down under the surface by the current and thrown into the ocean. I never intend to become a delicious snack for sharks.” The singer laughed under his breath at the comparison but tightened his hold further nonetheless. “If you ever consider finding a job, let me know. You would be a great songwriter,” he tried to lighten up the mood but meant it at the same time because YN was good with words. Probably better than many people in the industry. “Don’t be silly,” she laughed against his shoulder. “I would write novels, short stories, or children’s books—fewer rules, more creative freedom. Songs have to rhyme, have a rhythm, and I am not good with either of those. I preferably enjoy music made by others than me—yours, for example.” YN lightly nudged the man into his side, and while she tried to nuzzle her face into the soft fabric of his—deliciously smelling—hoodie, her eyes fell on top the small clock settling atop the still crackling fireplace, but the flames slowly died down, the wood already half-eaten.

Her eyes shot open, but YN didn’t let her body shoot up in panic. Instead, the princess hummed interested, acknowledging, and Harry made a questioning noise somewhere deep in his chest.

“Do not panic—“

“It’s never soothing to start a sentence like that.”

Giggling, YN looked up and reached for his lips to put her fingers on top of them in order to silence the man. “Shush.” She could feel him smile against her fingertips. “Do not panic, but it’s already half past six.” Her voice lowered itself as if it was forbidden to be still wide awake. Now it was Harry’s turn to look at the clock with wide eyes. “How did that happen,” he asked, curiosity clear in his voice. “I don’t know. Do you mind? Is it bad? Do you have an early morning?”

She should’ve checked earlier—or asked him before they even drove to Oxford, to begin with.

His headshake soothed her bubbling anxiety. “No, of course not. Everything is alright. It just didn’t feel like we spent more than eight hours talking and reading. And I don’t want to… to let this end already.” YN watched how his eyes jumped over every inch of her face, desperately trying to remember every mark and freckle. “Hey.” Her soft voice and even softer skin of her knuckles caressing his cheek let him stop. “I will not disappear, H. I will be right here.” The nickname had slipped without thought, and the singer felt his body burn and heart racing. “Okay,” he mumbled with a dry mouth. “I am only a phone call or text away. And if I don’t react immediately, don’t worry—I will call or text back, pinky promise.” YN moved her hand off his cheek and stretched her pinky out for him to grab with his own. He did it without hesitation. “Same goes for you, y’know?” The princess nodded slowly before taking another glance at the clock.

“I can drive you home if you want,” she suggested, but the knitted brows of the singer let her stop right away. “That’s not how this works. I’m the one who brings you back home. I won’t let you drive alone back here, in the dark and cold. Nope, not gonna happen.” YN sighed with a smile tucking at the corners of her mouth. “Well, okay, fine gentleman. At least let me call you a cab and bring you down to the gate then.” She would’ve loved to ask Bernard if he could drive him so he wouldn’t have needed to wait in the cold, but she didn’t want to wake the poor man in the middle of the night.

This was something Harry could live with, so he nodded and waited until YN had peeled herself off his shoulder to stand up. The brunette stretched a hand out, palm facing up, and the blonde took it without hesitating a second, letting him pull her up, and the woman couldn’t stop her wandering eyes from resting on his strong biceps hidden by his sunflower-yellow hoodie. Calling herself out mentally, YN averted her gaze and slipped back into her sneakers, waiting next to the French doors, and wanted to open them, but Harry was quick to hold the door close. With a questioning expression, the princess looked up, raising both eyebrows, watching the man who stared her down.

“Coat?”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, it will not take hours.” And she tried to open the door again. But Harry was as persistent as she loved to be. “Coat. I won’t let you out without another layer.” Another eye roll followed, but the woman finally rounded him to grab her hanging coat. He turned as well to help her slip into the thick and soft fabric before Harry gave her a once over and suddenly grabbed right over her shoulder to retrieve a scarf. “Oh, are you bloody kiddi…-“ But he had already started to wrap the article around her neck; his concentrated expression made the princess chuckle into the fabric. “Satisfied?” She asked Harry as he seemed to be done, and the singer grinned down at her covered form, plucking the scarf to its perfect position. “Now? Yes,” he agreed and finally let her open the door while slipping into his coat himself.

They walked the stairs in comfortable silence, and as they slipped out the front door, YN shrieked at a sudden movement to her right. She clung to Harry’s side, fingers burrowed into the arm of his coat, eyes wide in shock as they stared at an already working Bernard. “Your Highness,” the driver chuckled while bowing swiftly. “Bernard!” YN pressed a hand to her rapidly beating heart and inhaled the cold early morning air deep into her lungs. “I thought you’d still be at home.” The middle-aged man and Harry nodded to each other respectfully before he looked back at the princess. “Your brother and sister-in-law have appointments to attend, but there is still much time in case you need my service, princess.” YN quickly looked from Bernard to Harry—she let go of the poor man’s arm as it dawned on her that she still clung to it—before looking back to her favorite driver. “Actually…,” the blonde started. “Would it be possible to get him home safely? We forgot the time, and I do not want to dump him into a cab.”

The singer tried to protest because he didn’t mind taking a cab, but the driver was faster in his response. “Of course, Your Highness. Mr. Styles.” YN rolled her eyes with a smile and led Harry to the shining black SUV. “How does he know who I am?” He only dared to whisper the question. “He has two sixteen-year-old daughters, plus barely anything is secret within these walls. The bush radio never sleeps,” she whispered back, chuckling softly as they arrived at the back door.

Harry opened it while Bernard had already situated himself behind the wheel and started the engine, his eyes resting on the blonde’s face. She smiled up at him. “This was by far the best day in a very long time,” YN spoke first and let his face settle into her memory, saving everything she could put in a folder up there. But instead of saying something himself, Harry grabbed her hand softly and pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her middle. He could feel her arms encompassing his neck and how she leaned her hairline against his jawline after he had bent his head a bit. “I‘ll call later,” Harry murmured and dared to touch her temple with a feather-like kiss. “Get some sleep first,” YN mumbled back and pulled gently back. “Text me when you get home, okay?” The man grinned tenderly at the evident concern lacing her voice. “Will do.”

With that, he got into the car, and after one last look at her, Harry closed the door, and the vehicle ventured off the palace’ grounds, leaving a squealing YN with reddened cheeks behind.

;

This one got… long. Holymoly. But it’s here! I hope y’all enjoyed it as much as I did while writing it. As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated <3

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