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be-your-coffee-pot · 1 year

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they hate each other and there's just one bed - part 1

A/N: So good god agentrry is finally here. Don't worry my loves this is just part 1. I had a a lot more written but word erased like 2k words I think ugh I'm sad. enjoy this anyways

Pairing: Agent!Harry Styles x Agent!Reader (female)

Word count: around 3.6k

TW: none much just swearing lots and lots of swearing, pretend wives and husbands mentions of killing trash acting jealous harry and one bed

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Harry wants to kill her. Might just do it today.

“Stop glaring at each other, for god’s sake! This is supposed to be a pretty simple thing. Please don’t end up fucking killing each other before the mission is over.” Nick stated, raising a single eyebrow in a very matter of fact and totally Nick manner.

Nick Jamison was the captain of the Special Forces unit of SWAT, kept securely in the shadows (a bit like S.H.I.E.L.D. if you ask me, just much smaller), of which both Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles were part. They worked seamlessly together except for one bump on the road.

Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles hate each other.

Plain and simple right there.

The reason, you ask? A plethora of reasons. Y/N thinks Harry’s “way too motherfucking cocky” and that he should “get his stupid curly head out of his British ass.” She thinks all his niceness is just for show, and that he’s a total fake.

Harry Styles has the same things to say. According to him, “who the fuck does she think she is? Running around like she’s a goddamn saint.”

Nick’s hot take on the matter: “those two morons didn’t develop past their primary school phase where you push and pull the person you like because you don’t know how to deal with feelings. Plain and simple right there.”

I guess you know understand that even though they’ll work exceptionally together, they won’t willingly do it but they’re great together, so they have to you know.

This brings us here.

There was a slippery drug cartel that needed to be busted, but the unit had been struggling with getting the owner for months, and now finally, there was a way in.

“Dominic Vasquez is an eel. Snaky, slippery, and awfully hard to catch. We’ve been trying to find a suitable opening for a long time and finally have one.” Nick briefs Harry and Y/N, who is sulking in their seats.

“What opening? Please just spit this shit out, Nicky. I don’t really have the patience for your dramatics right now.” An annoyed Y/N remarks for the first time after entering the meeting room. As usual, both had been called in, not informed they would be doing a mission together, and the complaints and whining had begun. All they had done after acknowledging (scowling) each other was roll their eyes while glaring at each other through their director’s words.

A slight noise of agreement comes from the other agent in the room. Nick heaves a heavy sigh as he gestures vaguely at his prize pupils. “Look, you two, it’s paining me to breathe in all this sexual tension. Get a lid on it or go fuck it out. Please don’t drag me in it. Let me fucking finish.”

Their attention has been successfully piqued, all their pissiness vanishing as irritation and slight embarrassment settle on their features.

After an eye rollTM, the director gives all the information to the agents, who’re now listening as promptly as they’re ignoring each other. “His annual gala is next week, and that’s really the only opening. You are supposed to be new members, so you’ll be informed of that soon. You both will go in a day prior, get settled in. The whole thing is held at his mansion in Milan. You must find his office, grab evidence, and get out while being under the pretence of visitors. Simple.”

Harry is the one who speaks up this time, a sceptical eyebrow raises to accompany his words. “Why do I have a feeling there’s more to this?”

Nick sighs again like it’s hurting him to just breathe. “You’re going in as a married couple, Mr Andrew Jackson and Mrs Amelia Jackson.”

Y/N and Harry erupt in groans and protests of “why does this always happen” and “why do you always do this” in reference to the fact that they’d been in a few assignments previously where the both of them had to play a couple.

(Nick won’t say this out loud ever, but he thinks they’d make a damn great couple, so he keeps trying to push them together invisibly. Besides, they have great chemistry, so it really makes everything more believable.)

“Stop whining and get to it, Jesus Christ.”

. . .

. .

“Can you shift your fucking elbow?” Harry grunts in anger at his companion. Without looking up from the magazine in her hands, Y/N raises a single eyebrow at him, making absolutely no move to adjust her position.

Scoffing at the reply he received, or the lack thereof, the man shoves her elbow off the hand rest prompting an eye rollTM and an irritated groan from the agent beside him.

Surprisingly, Y/N doesn’t push him back because she’s too tired to deal with his shit at 6 in the fucking morning. Besides, it’s bloody December, so she just agitatedly pulls in her arms and continues to skim through the pages.

The next 2 hours or so are filled with glaring, under-the-breath grumbling and all sorts of gestures to annoy the other, but they thankfully make it out of the plane and to the hotel in one piece.

Harry shamelessly winks at the receptionist who’d just asked what name the room was under as Y/N rolls her eyesTM. “Jackson. Andrew Jackson sweetheart.” The girl blushes and giggles, quickly retrieving the key card.

“Jesus at least pretend like you have a wife,” Y/N mutters to her man-whore of a partner once they get inside the elevator. Harry’s lips tilt up in response, that infamous smug smirk coming out to play as he taunts her. “Why wifey, not getting enough attention, hmm? Jealousy isn’t that good of a look on you, sweetheart.”

“Please you’re too self-involved. I’m worried you won’t be able to keep it in your pants long enough to not fuck up my mission.” She scowls. Harry has the decency (or gall, whatever you will) to look offended at the comment. “Our mission and oh please miss goody to-shoes you know as well as I do that, I’m clearly the more responsible one out of the both of us. I’m not stupid enough to jeopardise our mission just because I wanted to get my dick wet.”

Y/N retorts just as the elevator doors open. “Aren’t you though, dear?” With his mouth gaping and the doors closing, he realises she just snatched the key card out of his hand.

The brunette hastily moves to catch up with her while she opens the door. Nick had actually booked them a suite and “it has two big beds, I swear!” However, the suite in question was slightly different from what was promised.

One single, king-sized bed stares back at them from the centre of the luxuriously decorated room.

Y/N breaks the silence. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

A deep groan emits from Harry as he rubs his eyes annoyedly.

“Screw you I’m taking the bed.” Before she could even think of saying something, Harry deposits himself on the bed, all gangly limbs as he sighs in satisfaction. She clenches her teeth and marches over to the bed, glaring at him with her arms crossed. He turns and grins up at her infuriatingly, “Can I help you with something, wifey?”

She shifts gears and gives him a saccharine smile. “Yes actually. How about you cuddle me to sleep, dear?” Harry’s brow furrows in mild disgust and he doesn’t even get a word out before Y/N is beside him with her arms wrapped around his lean body, fully flopping on top of him. He flails around like her touch burned him and knocks her over to the other side of the bed where she snickers at him. With a swift kick, Harry’s on the floor and Y/N has spread out starfish on the sheets.

He climbs back up to try to take control of the bed again, but Y/N just won’t let that happen. They wrestle each other and she’s just about to punch Harry when the doorbell rings. Her hand freezes a few inches away from his scowling face, both of them scrambling to fix their rumpled clothing. She stumbles off where she’d planted herself on his abdomen and opens the door while Harry shifts around to make it seem like he was just relaxing on the mattress.

The bellboy is standing in the hallway, holding their bags as he smiles at her maybe a little too amicably. “Hey yeah you can put them in here.” Y/N leads him inside the room. He puts down the suitcases and glances up to find an intimidatingly handsome man lounging on the bed, watching him with narrowed jade eyes.

Without taking his gaze off the boy, Harry calls to Y/N who was turning on the electric kettle at the side of the room. “Baby, can you come here for a second, please?”

“Yes, honey?” Y/N replies as she comes to stand at his side. She should get a fucking Oscar for how great she played along right there. Her ‘husband’s hand comes up to rest on her thigh as he lazily smiles at her. “Tip the boy darling, then can we please take a nap, hmm?”

With her back turned to the steward, she raises her eyebrows at his antics, quickly moving to retrieve her temporary husband’s wallet. “Sure honey.”

Harry’s scowling at the bellboy as he leaves.

“If you need anything mam, I’ve been Aaron. Don’t hesitate to call, I’ll be right here.” Y/N quickly shoos him away rolling her eyesTM at his attempt of shooting his shot. Harry is still scowling. “I’ve been Aaron. Don’t hesitate to call, mam.” He mocks in a high-pitched accented voice.

“Look who’s jealous now, dear. You seriously felt threatened by a bellboy, Styles? That’s how weak your ego is?” The agent scorns the notion, switching the subject smoothly.

“Fuck that. Grab a chair, we’re running over the plan.”

. .

Y/N is just about ready to stab him with the fork in her hand.

“If you don’t stop smirking and start acting like a goddamn husband, I swear to god I will rip out your carotid,” Harry smirks, of course, he does.

“Gonna use your teeth, sweetheart? Never would have taken you to be that kinky.”

He should be thankful the waiter arrives right that moment or he would have ended up one major artery down.

The waiter looks at Y/N, completely disregarding the man with her as he asks for her order. “Good afternoon mam. What will you be having today?” He very sweetly asks to which she gives him a tight but polite smile. She can just barely hear Harry mumble under his breath, “Definitely none of your bullshit.”

“I think I’ll just go with the mushroom risotto. Thank you.” Harry clears his throat, finally gaining the waiter’s attention. The guy has the nerve to look irritated at Harry’s intervention, which piques the agent further.

“If you’d be willing to pay attention to me, I would like a cheese ravioli, thank you.” Upon receiving death eyes from the man, the waiter quickly nods and runs but not before flashing a smile at Y/N.

An eyebrow is already raised when she fully turns in her partner’s direction. “Seriously, Styles? Again?” He rolls his eyesTM, scoffing at her insinuation and yet again opting to ignore her remark.

“Shut up. Give me your hand.” She grouses at the sheer duality of the statement, lips curling in annoyance.

“What? Why would I ever do that?”

“Shutting up or giving me your hand?” Harry mutters with a boyish grin. The dimples alone make it seem like he was just flirting playfully. “Come on, wifey. Pay your husband some attention.”

It clicks to Y/N suddenly that they’re supposed to play pretend and she’d somewhat lost track of the notion. She huffs quietly and slips a hand into his ringed one, watching as he brings it up to his lips.

A strange shock goes through her as Harry’s jade eyes meet hers and his lips softly brush over her knuckles like he was glad to be allowed this close. He laces their fingers together, giving her a moony smile, she would’ve swooned over him if he wasn’t a douche. She returns it with just as much sentiment.

“I have never wanted to end your existence more.” “Trust me I feel the same.”

. .

. . .

Fortunately, the waiter made it out alive.

Harry is not a violent person generally but after today Harry swears, he has never longed to put a bullet in someone’s head more.

During the one hour or so, Y/N and Harry spent at the restaurant, that damn waiter kept making passes at Y/N while ignoring Harry’s presence at the table. So much so that he made her uncomfortable. Now Harry may hate her guts but that does not mean he’ll sit and watch a moron try to objectify his companion. Moreso make her uncomfortable as she sat with her husband?

So, when he interrupted their sweet moment to present their meals and make a comment about how the madam looked much more ravishing than the food, it’s safe to say Harry may have lost it a teensy bit.

I’m not saying Harry got up under the stance of gonna run to the loo real quick and whispered in the waiter’s ear to dare and make one more remark on my wife, or that he’ll gut you like the fish on that table. I’m not saying that he sat and glared at the terrified man with satisfaction or smirked when Y/N told him to keep it in check. I’m also not saying he replied I’m your husband baby it’s my job.

But then again, I’m also not saying he didn’t.

“Jesus Harry, that poor guy was petrified. Did you really have to?” Y/N gets out in a fit of laughter as they get in the hotel elevator. Harry titters along with her, shaking his head and announcing in an overly posh British accent. “I’m your husband baby, it’s my job!”

She collapses into giggles again but for some reason this time, Harry stands and stares with something akin to fondness at her glee. She wipes under her eyes, raising a questioning brow at his gaze. “What? ‘ve I got something on my face?”

“No, nothing.”

. .

“Fuck you, Styles.”

“You wish, Y/L/N.”

She huffs and stomps and smushes his face into the pillow in her hands in a failed attempt at asphyxiation. He chortles.

“Let me take the bed, Styles, don’t be a dick come on.” Y/N tries one more time, but the man just turns, sighs, and goes spread eagle on the mattress.

After lunch, they discussed their plan some more and went around Dominic Vasquez’s mansion to scout out the area. Nick had given them a blueprint of the property so that they could mark down possible exit routes and things like that. That is what they’d spent the rest of the day doing but now it’s 11 and they really need to sleep.

Upon receiving zero replies from the man spread on the bed, Y/N sighs heavily. She was stubborn as fuck sure but then again, she wasn’t gonna keep fighting and risk having him blow up uselessly.

Turning off the lights, she tiredly crawls onto the stiff couch. Harry’s already snoring, and she can’t even get comfortable.

She tosses and turns as the clock tick’s midnight, but sleep is a fever dream. She chucks her pillow onto the carpet, quickly following after it. The floor might be a better option than the couch.

. .

It’s been 1876 seconds and Harry snores 4 times every minute and it’s been 30. The floor is hurting her back.

Y/N gives up on sleep altogether, getting up and turning on the one lamp placed on the oak table in the room. A warm buttery light surrounds that corner of the room. She looks over her shoulder to see if it disturbed Harry but he was still snoring.

He looked almost adorable like this. Messy curls strewn over his forehead, chest rising with soft subdued breaths. His features were relaxed, free of that furrow he gets in his brows when he’s ticked off.

Her lips quirk up the tiniest bit but she doesn’t indulge in it any further. Y/N gently pulls out the chair with a sigh, plopping down on it and flipping open the case files. Might as well work.

“Y/L/N. Y/L/N wake up! Wake up, Jesus.” Y/N can just make out a deep, accented voice mumbling and a hand shaking her shoulder gently. “Y/L/N come on you idiot.”

She rises slowly, groaning out a sigh. She tips her head back to find Harry standing above her, sleep smeared over his face.

“Why the fuck are you sleeping on the table?” She learns that Harry’s voice becomes much deeper and raspier when he wakes up and she doesn’t know what to do with that knowledge.

“I-I was sleeping on the couch first but then I tried the floor cause the couch was very stiff but then like the ground was stiffer so I tried to do some work and I think I might’ve fallen asleep? What time is it?”

“Oh yeah, no shit Sherlock. It’s around 1:17 something. You can-you can uh come sleep on the bed. It’s large enough for like 3 people and we both need sleep so you can take one side, I guess.”

Y/N raises her eyebrow. “You’re sure? You know what, I’m not even gonna question it. Get outta the way, motherfucker.”

Harry mutters something along the lines of why did I let her sleep in my bed but does nothing as she wriggles under the unmade side of the bed. Y/N’s eyes are already drooping as he gets under the covers on his side.

“Stay on your fucking side, Y/L/N. I mean it please.”

She hums out an unintelligible response.

Harry doesn’t remember when he fell back to sleep but the last thing, he did remember that night was his partner’s arm extending away from her face where it had been previously and landing next to his, their pinkies now wrapped together.

. .

He feels warm. It’s not the fuck I’m burning it’s too much kind of warmth but rather the toasty welcomed kind. The one where you’re curled up under a blanket watching a movie with your cat at your feet, a fire cackling gently by the side, sweet candles burning, and an even sweeter girl in your arms.

Harry’s emerald eyes blink open heavily. There’s a weight in his arms and it’s 4 am. The weight shifts. It also sighs and cuddles closer to Harry. He finds the weight is actually a person. The person is Y/N and it’s pleasant.

Harry falls back to sleep.

. .

. �� . . .

. .

She feels warm. It’s not the ah it’s burning kind of warmth but rather the welcomed toasty kind. The one where you’re snuggled up under the covers watching a movie with your cat at your feet and there’s a fire cackling gently by the side, sweet candles burning and an even sweeter boy, holding you in his arms.

Y/N’s eyes blink open heavily. There’s a weight on top of her and it’s 8 am. The weight shifts. It also sighs and snuggles tighter around Y/N. She finds the weight is actually a person. The person is Harry and it’s very unpleasant.

Y/N squawks and throws him down.

“What in the Jesus Christ-” Harry gapes from the floor, having been woken up suddenly. He looks up and there she is holding her pillow like a weapon. Is she serious?

“Why the fuck were you cuddling me?”

“Why the fuck would I cuddle you?”

“I do not fucking know! You were the one on top of me!”

“You were the one on my side!”

“Well, someone crossed over!”

“You did!”

“Oh no, you were the one who started it!”

“Shut your bitch ass up, you started it, Styles!”

“Oh, please Y/L/N, you are the last person I would want to snuggle with. I may be a touchy person but I’m not that desperate-”

“Oh, you’re a man-whore so you better jus-”

Someone’s phone rings.

It’s Nick.

There’s silence.

Then there’s scrambling.

Y/N snatches up the phone and answers it.

“Hey yeah hi. Good morning, Nick, how’re you doing this fine morning?” She awkwardly asks her director and Harry just crouches on the floor, his head in his hands.

“Y/N what did you do? It’s not even 9 yet. Why are you answering Styles’ phone? Did you two finally fuck it out or like-”

“Nick! Please. What do you want?”

Harry leans against the bed like he’s in pain (might as well be) because he can very well listen to the conversation going on, on the phone.

Nick heaves a sigh on the other side. “I just wanted to ask you two how it’s going and inform you from where you’d be collecting your clothes for tonight.”

They straighten up and look at each other. Down to business.

“There’s this cute boutique downtown, owned by a sweet lady called Juliana. Now, she is doing me a big favour by entertaining your asses-”

“Oh, now come on that’s not fai-”

“Shut up Y/L/N and let me finish. Have no manners I swear to god.”

Before Y/N can open her mouth to complain some more (she always whines like this but Nick never says anything, not to her) Harry snatches his cell back and clears his throat.

“Now movin on. You’ll go to her no late than noon and take your pick from whatever options she has. Don’t bother her too much.”

“You sweet for her, Nicky?” Harry snickers, sneaking a look at Y/N who’s doing the same.

“Sure like you are for that wife of yours, huh Styles?”

Nick ends Harry and the call.

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fishnets-fingers · 1 year

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Forbidden Hours

“Sounds like someone’s projecting,” he says, voice laced with honey.

“I’m not projecting anything.”

“Sounds like what you’re saying is that you’re jealous that I have the confidence to partake in intercourse and you’re a bumbling virgin-“

“I’ve read all of the volumes of the Kamasutra. I know my way around when I need to engage in coitus for reproduction,” she cuts him off.

“Oh, sweet sweet Princess,” he whispers, using her title condescendingly. “Sex is more than just reproduction.” He strides towards her.

PAIRING - spy!harry x princess!y/n

a/n - happy first day of 2023! this is my first time writing historical fiction. it’s loosely inspired by a movie, particularly this scene. it’s not historically accurate in the slightest. you can read more about the chola dynasty here. don’t know how many parts this would have but i’m hoping to write more of these two’s dynamic. if you have any ideas, let me know. as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome. happy reading!

Word Count - 4.2k (not proofread)

MASTERPOST | PART TWO

….

நிழல். Shadow. That was his nickname among the royal heirs. He was quiet, swift, inconspicuous, and nimble - camouflaging himself in vast rooms and gathering intel. There wasn’t a room in the kingdom he couldn’t weasel himself in; whether that be up on the roof, scaling walls, or hidden in the dark - where candle lights don’t flicker.

Growing up as the son of a British sea merchant, Harry learned that there wasn’t much for a young boy to do in the cramped quarters of the ship. He’d lost his mother the moment he took his first breath. There wasn’t a lot of maternal warmth in his life but that wasn’t to say that he wasn’t loved. He was loved in a different way, his father kept him close during the wuthering nights at sea often pointing out constellations in the night sky to remind him that life had far more in store for him than the fervent passing waves of the sea. But he was also a man that did not believe in making mistakes, so whenever Harry got in trouble, he was asked to scrub the deck floor clean until his hands bled. He learnt his way around a sword from the crewmen. Travelling to different ports of the world also meant learning different forms of combat and gathering information from people of different cultures. Stewing in a ship with ten men for months meant no entertainment, so he began sifting for stories and used their weakness and strengths against them to gain favours.

He docked on Chozhamandalam when he was twenty and was greeted with a red swallowtail flag with a pouncing tiger on it. He grew to love the people of Kaveripattinam - the bustle of the markets, the chortle of the children running about, the welcoming people, and the way art was particularly celebrated in this small port town, and the princess he set his sights on his third day of being docked there. He’s heard of royalty. Lots of royalty. Cruel rulers. Compassionate rulers. Ostentatious rulers. Modest rulers. Heard. But he’s never seen one in the flesh. Until that day.

A crowd gathered near the temple, murmurs of visiting royals spread like wildfire, and when he’d caught wind of it, he couldn’t resist. Ten soldiers walked first clearing the path, two on horses and sheathed swords followed, then came ten men bearing the weight of a palanquin. It wasn’t an ordinary palanquin, this particular one was grandiose, shimmering in gold and stained glass but the insides were draped in silk to obstruct the view of the onlookers. The Queen Mother exited first, greeting the townspeople and that’s when Harry saw her - the Princess Regnant, the one third in line to the throne. He found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the way her lips curled up in an inviting smile. Harry has seen many a sight in his life but none would compare to the way the royal blue silk saree draped around her body made her skin shimmer; it reminded him of how the first light of the sun would glint and glimmer on the steady ocean water. Her eyes were dark, like the deepest part of the sea where light does not enter. She was adorned in gold, hair piled up into a tall bun that was decorated with jasmine flowers. Their temple visit was brief, the Princess joined her grandmother thanking people for their well wishes before being escorted into the temple premises. It was her eighteenth birthday, so a feast was prepared for everyone in town. As the crowd dissipated to head to the town hall for the royal lunch, Harry lingered wanting to catch sight of the Princess again. He managed to climb a peepal tree that towered over the south entrance of the temple. He saw her again, only this time being told off by the guard as she tried to reach over to pluck a blooming lotus from the temple pond. She huffed in response settling down on the step, so the water lapped at her feet, guiding a tadpole trapped in a water bubble on the lotus pad back into the water.

Three years later, he’d made himself a name in the kingdom. His path stumbled with the Crown Prince a month after arriving. He soon became his confidant, even earning a spot in his army. The Crown Prince, Vikram, was a skilled warrior often going off on conquests under the King’s orders to further expand the country. The youngest Prince, Karthi, was sent to the island of Lanka to study apothecary and healing. And the middle heir, Princess Y/N, was known for her wisdom and strategic wit. She often presided in important meetings with the King and his counsel and implemented many strategies that helped triple the wealth of the dynasty and the well-being of the people. The first battle Harry rode alongside the Crown Prince, he was tasked with bringing home a note sent by the prince to his father detailing his plans on the war spoils to the King. Harry was entrusted with carrying secrets and messages to royalty and trusted members of the Crown. His knack of gathering information also came in handy and now was a spy for the royal heirs three years later.

Soon enough the nickname Shadow was bestowed upon him by Prince Karthi. There wasn’t a single room he couldn’t get into - even the castle. But the tower he was currently scaling was one he never had before - Princess Y/N’s chamber. It was forbidden to talk to her without supervision but in the dark of the night, he supposed it did not matter. His job description came with breaking rules and this particular information needed for her to be in the know sans protocols.

He hitched his leg up over the stone bannister and lurched his torso up to the terrace. Princess Y/N’s tower was away from the main dome of the royal vacation castle and he chalked it up for safety but now standing at her balcony, he understands why. The view was unbelievable - the vast expanse of the ocean was at his feet, calm waters painted silver with the full moon; it also overlooked her personal garden filled with coral jasmine, hibiscus, marigolds, and wildflowers. The ocean breeze carried over the fragrance of the flora straight to her room. It was well known that the princess was an avid gardener; he heard through the grapevine that oftentimes she’d sketch out the garden’s landscape plans and sometimes even join the workers to tend to the flower beds. Princes who came to court her from neighbouring territories would almost always bring a sapling of a flowering plant to gain affection.

One could get used to the view, he thinks, as he leans against the bannister one more time - the sounds of tides crashing over the shore soothe his nerves from his climb up. Being born with the golden spoon ain’t that bad. If the burden of duty came with such lavish living quarters, someone sign me the fuck up, Harry takes in the scenery before him before pushing off from it. His body instinctively makes his way to her, like a moth being drawn to a frame, or in this case a spy being drawn to the lavish canopy bed bathed in the buttery glow of candlelight. He stops in his tracks for the second time by the sight of her, not by the opulent beauty that she radiated when he first laid eyes on her but with fondness.

It’s not the Princess Regnant who’s fast asleep on her bed but Y/N. The same Y/N who bristles every time he’s in the room with her siblings. The same Y/N who straightens up her back and holds her chin up high when he cracks a joke to try and force a smile on her face.The same Y/N who looks away when he catches her eyeing him up as he hands over the sealed scroll sent by one of her brothers. It’s almost as if Harry is seeing her for the first time without any filters - except for the sheer white netted fabric that hangs around. She looks small without all the jewellery and silks. Hair raven and straight and long - longer than what he had anticipated - now that her hair has not been pinned up in a bun or bushed away from her face with intricate braids. She looks vulnerable - almost her age - a twenty one year old with a bare face that is not made up immaculately. She has dark circles under her eyes, and Harry deduces that it’s from reading all the books she has strewn over - opened - beside her on the satin sheets. Her lips are curled downwards; she frowns in her sleep and Harry has to try and fight the urge to reach over and smooth out the crinkle between her eyebrows.

He clears his throat, hoping she’ll wake up before he ends up touching her and landing himself in prison. She twitches in response, her steady deep breaths interrupted by a sharp inhale. He clears his throat again, louder this time, followed by, “Your royal highness.”

Y/N’s eyes flutter open, and she jolts up when she sees a tall figure standing beside her. “Who?” She asks, voice hoarse, eyes darting up over his broad chest.

“It’s me, Princess Y/N,” Harry answers.

“Mr. Styles.” Hand coming over to rub the sleep from her eye. “What are you doing here? In my chamber? You’re not allowed,” she states.

“I apologise, your majesty. I’ve been riding for five hours, ma’am. From the estate in the hills. Couldn’t risk having someone overhearing this for the sake of protocol,” he explains.

“So, was I right?” Y/N questions, shuffling out of her bed. Harry moves behind so she has the space to stand upright. “Are the governors convening?”

She gets no reply, making her flit her eyes up at his jade embers to find him staring at her body. Harry could make out the full curves of her breasts and hips with the flimsy white gown Y/N was wearing. Her nipples pebbled from the cold winds from the sea and peaks out the cotton fabric. She rolls her eyes, and snaps her fingers in front of his face to catch his attention. “I could have your eyes gouged out this instant, Harry Edward Styles! There are guards on the other side of this door.”

“Apologies, Princ-“

“You’re full of apologies tonight, aren’t you?” Y/N folds her arms, shielding her chest from his gaze.

“Sorry, Prin-“

Y/N laughs. “It’s far too late for formalities, Mr. Styles. Plus, they only apply to people who follow protocols and walk in through there,” she cocks her head to the carved wooden door. Considering you broke into my room by climbing my balcony, I reckon you can give it a rest. Call me Y/N.”

“Yes,” Harry nods. “Y/N,” he adds. Testing out the way her name rolls out of his mouth. He can’t help the way his dimples carve in his cheeks as the corner of his lips tug upward. I like it, he decides. He likes the way saying her name feels on his tongue, it’s rich and velvety and he wants to keep saying it again and again. “Please call me Harry.”

“Harry, tell me what you saw. Don’t leave out any details,” she orders, walking over to her desk.

Fucking shit, Harry shakes his head. How was he supposed to concentrate when the candles she was lighting only made the silhouette of her body more prominent. She could clearly see the swell of her bum and he’ll bet his entire fortune that she wasn’t wearing anything underneath other than that flimsy gown. He shamelessly lets his eyes rake up over her and his heart flutters when he meets her expenatant eyes, quill hovering over a parchment, urging him to vomit out what he knows.

“Yes. The Hill estate,” he clears his throat. “You’re right. Five governors held a secret meeting at midnight at the Bull temple. You know, the one that was destroyed last monsoon by a landslide.”

Y/N scoffs and lets out a chuckle of disbelief. “Of course, they pick the most obvious spot. Were you able to get a good look at who these governors are?”

“Yes. Do you want me to list them out?”

“Please,” she says, writing down each of the names that Harry listed. He walks closer to where she was hunched over, writing. Harry’s not surprised to see the elegance in her script.

“Impressive. Nice handwriting,” he comments.

“Hardly something to be impressed by, Harry.”

“Well, Y/N, it’s better than mine.”

“If you had tutors from all over the world, I’m sure your script will look just as impressive,” she adds.

“Of course.” He nods. “The meeting. The governors are unhappy with the decree to build schools using the tax money they’re collecting.”

“Of course they are,” she mumbles. “They’re all for taxes when they can use it to fatten themselves up but ask them to spend it on the children of their districts, they are suddenly unhappy with the new system implemented.”

“That’s not all.” Harry opens a silver box and pops a date into his mouth.

“Help yourself,” Y/N comments, shaking her head at his lack of etiquette. Harry’s face flushes with pink and he can feel the tips of his ears getting hot.

“It’s a long journey back here,” he tells her, avoiding her eyes in embarrassment and on cue his stomach rumbles.

Y/N eyes soften. “There are fruits in the basket. And here.” She walks over pulling out a glass jar filled with jujubes from the drawer by her bedside and brings it over to him.

“You have gummies in your drawer,” he notes, smirking at the half eaten jar of sugar coated coloured candy.

“I have a bit of a sweet tooth,” she tells him with a shy smile. He props himself on the table and she makes her way to her desk, watching him eat.

“Harry,” she calls out. “You said that’s not all,” she prompts.

“Your Uncle was there,” he tells her quietly, not wanting anyone to hear.

“My Uncle?” She asks, alarmed. “Can’t be.”

“I saw him, Y/N. He came in shrouded in a black cloak. He’s sired an offspring he said. Claimed that his son had a right to the throne. That’s as much as what was said before they dispersed.”

“You’re positive?”

“Are you implying that I’m being dishonest?”

“I’m not implying anything,” Y/N snaps. “I just want you to be sure.”

“I saw him with my own two eyes, Y/N. I was taken aback too. Both Princes speak of him fondly.”

“Seems like there’s a conspiracy afoot,” Y/N says, almost to herself.

“I’ll let Prince Vikaram know immediately,” he informs.

“Don’t. He’s hot headed. God knows he’ll come charging to the capital and stick a knife in my Uncle’s throat. I’ll take care of it myself.”

“What are you going to do?”

“That’s below your pay grade, spy. I’ll handle this myself. I’m heading to the capital tomorrow for a meeting with my father and the court. How long would it take for you to sail to Lanka alone?”

“Almost a week,” Harry answers.

“Okay. I want you to set sail to Lanka five days from now. I’ll have a scroll delivered to you at noon by the docks. Hand it over to Karthi. Father will want him back in the capital. Keep mum about this and you’ll be rewarded handsomely.”

Harry nods. “Don’t want gold coins this time. I want a house. Close to the sea. One with space for a yard.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I’ll set sail five days from now to Lanka. It’ll also be nice to pay the old man a visit too.”

“Your father’s there?”

Harry nods.

“How is Merchant Styles? I heard he’s retired” Y/N asks.

“He took to Buddhist teachings. Become a proper monk now,” Harry chuckles.

Y/N laughs, one that’s laced with mockery.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asks, standing up abandoning the food.

“Nothing,” she gets out between peels of laughter, wiping her the tears that threaten to spill.

“With all due respect, Princess. Spit it the fuck out,” he huffs out in annoyance.

“It’s just funny. Your father practises a faith that preaches restraint of the senses as one of its precepts and then there’s you.” She bites down on her bottom lip to stop herself from breaking out into a fit of laughter.

“I don’t quite follow,” he crosses her arms.

“Of course you don’t,” she chuckles, straightening up and tilting her chin up.

“You always do that,” he points out. “Pretend you're better than me. It’s obvious you hate me when I’ve been nothing but friendly.”

“You’re not my friend. You’re Vikram’s friend. And Karthi’s. I don’t know you. And I know for a fact that I’m better than you,” YN's eyebrow raises in arrogance.

“What makes you so sure?” Harry takes a step towards her.

“Because, Harry Styles, you’re the proverbial whore of the town. I don’t go around screwing everything with a pulse,” she smiles arrogantly at him.

“How did you come upon this piece of information?” He asks her.

“News travels fast, especially with handmaidens. So, that’s why it’s funny. Your father practises self-restraint and you are on a mission to contract a venereal disease.”

“Sounds like someone’s projecting,” he says, voice laced with honey.

“I’m not projecting anything.”

“Sounds like what you’re saying is that you’re jealous that I have the confidence to partake in intercourse and you’re a bumbling virgin-“

“I’ve read all of the volumes of the Kamasutra. I know my way around when I need to engage in coitus for reproduction,” she cuts him off.

“Oh, sweet sweet Princess,” he whispers, using her title condescendingly. “Sex is more than just reproduction.” He strides towards her.

“It is. That’s what the textbook says: It's a womanly duty to service the man and bear his children. It’s sacred,” she insists, taking a step back.

“I’m surprised for someone with such progressive morals… Your view on pleasure seems archaic,” he takes a step toward her again.

“Books do not lie, spy. They have the whole truth.” She steps back again, bumping into the edge of her teakwood desk, trapping herself.

“What do your precious books say about the way your body sparkles when you reach a satisfying end?” He goads, taking a final step forward and invading her personal space.

“You are forbidden to come this close to me, Harry.” Y/N reminds him in futility. Feeling his hard chest against her, thighs rubbing up against him, she can feel his hard muscles straining against her and his warmth radiate, crawling its way into her skin.

“Call out to the guards then,” he reminds her, dropping his head down to nose at her temple.

“I will,” her voice is feeble. “You’ll be cut into pieces and thrown in the ocean.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he smirks, as his lips circuit down the shell of her ear. “I don’t see you telling me to stop.” His tongue laves at her lobe, teeth coming to clamp down gently and tug.

Y/N squeaks feeling his action go down straight to her core. “I know how to defend myself.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second.” He stops, pulling back to look at her. “You don’t need to fight me,” his voice rings with sincerity. “Just tell me to stop and I will, Y/N.” He looks at her, searching her face for an answer.

“What else?” She murmurs, after a few moments, looking up into his eyes.

“Hmm?”

“What else? Things that haven’t been mentioned in books,” she clarifies.

His eyes shine with mischief as he simpers, dimples dazzling. “Where do I start, Y/N…” he trails off, fully pressing himself against her chest. God, she’s so responsive, he marvels at the way her chest heaves against his, heart stammering a staccato against his own racing heart. She’s soft and warm and she smells heavenly. His lips find its way to the base of her jaw, dragging up and leaving open mouth kisses on her smooth skin. “When you find someone desirable, you feel the heat pool in your belly and spread like wildfire across every nerve ending of your body.” He kisses her cheek, a hand going to intertwine with hers.

“Have you felt that?” He asks, feeling hot puffs of her breath against his neck. Y/N shakes her head. “It’s not very noble to lie, Princess,” he whispers, lips moving against the column of her throat. “I see the way you fuck me with your eyes.”

“I do not-“ her voice cuts off as Harry suckles on her jugular, feeling her hammering pulse underneath his lips. She lets out a whimper that goes straight to his fattening cock. Y/N’s mouth falls open dragging in breaths of fresh air, her free hand bracing against the desk to hold herself upright. “I do not fuck you with my eyes.”

“Really?” He says popping off, his calloused fingers come to caress the agitated spot. He was careful not to leave a hickey but he loved the way her skin turned a baby pink in response to his ministrations. “I guess I must have imagined all those times you looked me up and down?”

“I guess you did, Harry,” her chest heaves as she tries to maintain composure. It wasn’t right to be doing this with Harry. It wasn’t right to be doing this with anyone outside the sanctity of a marital bed but it’s exhilarating, breaking rules. She’s not sure if it’s Harry or it’s just the thrill of doing something that might get her in trouble with her parents. They trust her. Trusted her enough to let her move out of the capital and to the port town with her grandmother because she wishes to live by the beach. And here she was enjoying herself with a plebian. A foreigner. A spy. She met him when she was eighteen as her brother’s friend and he was handsome. Chocolate brown curls, smatter of freckles on the bridge of his nose, a perfect smile, dimples, and an alluring set of mossy green irises. She’s heard stories and rumours of his sexual escapades and as much as she detested hearing those stories, she detested the fact that she’s been comparing the princes who had come to ask for her hand in marriage to him. But all she could think of was how strong his arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her even closer to him.

“Stubborn,” he smirks up. “See what you do to me?” He presses his hard cock against her pelvic bone, watching the way her eyes darken as she realises, the sight smirk of hers doesn't go unnoticed by him. “You’ve been driving me insane since the day I saw you on your eighteenth birthday. Went back to my quarters and touched myself to the thought of you,” he confesses. “You’ve been in my dreams ever since.” He cups her cheek, thumb moving back and forth across her lips.

“Are you going to kiss me, Harry?” She asks, looking up at him.

“Have you kissed anyone before?” He questions.

She shakes her head. “My handmaidens have kissed the people who were courting them. They told me how to do it and helped me practise on fruit.”

“That so?” He smiles, lips ghosting her Cupid’s bow. “You know kissing is pretty easy, Y/N,” he declares. “But it’s also powerful” he tells her, lips moving against hers. “‘A kiss may ruin a human life.’”

“Oscar Wilde,” she says, recognising his quote, surprised by his knowledge of poetry. She gets on her toes, pulling her intertwined hand out of Harry’s, and running it down his chest, she can feel the way his muscles ripple underneath the fabric of his shirt. Her chest heaves, belly clenching in anticipation as he lowers tilts his head to the side, noses squished and her mouth opens in anticipation.

He presses his forehead against hers savouring the moment. “And I’m sure that if I start kissing you now, Princess… I might never be able to stop,” he tells her, breathing in her intoxicating sweet floral scent. He concedes by kissing her eyelids and he’s fighting the urge to not run his hands down her body and up her thighs to see if she’s wet for him, but he steps away wanting to be respectful.

Y/N can’t hide the disappointment in her face when backs away from her. His hands come to cup her cheeks, smearing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Never met anyone who has me on a chokehold, Y/N,” he confesses. “I shall bid my goodbye.” He brings her hand to his mouth and kisses her palm, pressing it to his cheek.

“See you Harry,” she smiles. “You’ll be given the scroll at the docks at noon five days from now,” she informs, standing upright; snapping back into the person she was before being pushed up against the desk by Harry.

“Princess Y/N,” he bows, popping a piece of jujube in his mouth before making his way to her balcony. He gives her a salute one last time before climbing down the tower during forbidden hours, like he always does. But this time, he’s rappelling down the side of the stone structure with butterflies in his tummy.

part two

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK SO FAR!

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles yn #harry styles x you #spy!harry #princess!reader #princess!y/n #one direction #fishnets-fingers #come say hi #please leave tags if you reblog #harry styles angst #forbidden hours

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chrsa · 1 year

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SPY X FAMILY CHAPTER 72

the 3 friends in a friendship group

#4th one is harry styles #spy x family #spy x family manga #anya forger #damian desmond #becky blackbell #chapter 72

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paeries · 7 months

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~ spyrry sneak peek~

disclaimer; contents are subject to change once fully edited and posted

cw; swearing, spy!reader x spy!harry, enemies to lovers??

••••••••

“I don’t care what the conditions are, Terrance! I’m not doing it! Get someone else for it this time.” Y/N barked, doing her best to keep in stride with her boss, who regrettably ruined her otherwise great morning with quite possibly the worst news of her life.

“There is no one else, dammit! You two are the most qualified for this exact job. You’re doing it.” The director glared, “You and Styles both cryin’ about it every morning, I don’t care! If there was another way, don’t you think I’d try and spare myself the agony of hearing you two argue?” he finished, practically out of breath, the poor thing. She rolled her eyes at the mention of his name, and she was sure she was scowling, with the way people were scrambling to get out of the way.

“That’s all good and well, but I am physically not going to do it.” She reiterated, effectively putting her foot down on the matter once they reached the debriefing hall.

“I had a feeling it’d come down to this,” Terrance sighed, and subtly nodded to a few others behind her. “Sorry, Y/N, it’s only for a little while.”

“What are you tal- Hey!” She shrieked as she was grabbed and cuffed to the chair. “Come on! I’ll get out of these!” She huffed, tugging at the silicone covered chains.

“Yes, but it’ll hold you till he gets here.” He answered before stepping out into the hallway and shut the heavy door between them. Her jaw fell open, before anger taking over her, a growl leaving her lips as she pulled at the cuffs. “Cool it, cool it…” She whispered to herself, relaxing as best she could, what with her fists clenched tightly.

She couldn’t believe this, of all the people that work in this god forsaken building, not a single one of them could train well enough to give Harry some better competition as number two. (Because let's face it, she's number one because she is the best, and if they couldn’t beat out Harry, they certainly weren't coming very close to her spot.) And now, because the insufferable prick can’t ever keep his mouth shut, she’s got to be the one cuffed to a chair that's bolted into the damn floor. After all the hard work, and dedication she’s given the agency, everything she’s done to keep money in their pockets, and this is how they treat her? They let one stray dog in, just to muck it up. All the mistakes he’s made that they’ve had to rip her out of her home or training to fix his problems, now they want them to double a mission together? She’d sooner quit.

——

“No, no fucking way.” Harry huffed, slowing his steps down the hallway once he realised he recognised the head of hair waiting in the room they were headed to. “You’re absolutely insane if you think there's any way I’m agreeing to this.” He argued, extending his arm out to gesture to the door. “This isn’t up for discussion, Agent.” The director calmly said, as he had already prepared for another round. Terrance took a steady breath before scanning his badge and the door separating them opened again. There she was, legs crossed over one another, looking totally unamused as she sat at the table while twirling around the cuffs she managed herself out of. “Oh, look, visiting hours.” She deadpanned, rolling her eyes. “What, he doesn’t get cuffs?”

“I don’t believe this! You can’t seriously tell me that no one here is better than her besides me?” He huffed and Y/N rolled her eyes, tossing the cuffs to the table. “No one here is better than me, period. You’re nowhere close to what I bring in.” A snicker falling past her lips as she watched Harry get visibly worked up. “You took out one man, and you think we all have to bow down to you !” Y/N laughed, pleased at his reaction. “It wasn’t one man, it was the man, and there’s no rea-,” She started before the director shut the argument down. “S’enough already. I’d get rid of both of you if there were anyone better. Fact of the matter is, for some reason, your competitiveness against one another, makes the other better. Christ, y’don’t even know what you have to do yet.” Terrance sighed, pinching the nerves at the top of his nose after the pair glared again at one another.

“Now, are we ready to listen?”

——

“That’s even worse than before, T!” She cried, bringing her hands to her face. “We’ll never be able to pass off as a loving couple, are you crazy?!” Harry groaned, “We’ll be killed.”

“Speak for yourself, m’not stupid enough to get myself killed. It’ll be you that does it because you can’t keep y’mouth-,” She was seething, but thankfully the director stepped in once again with a slam of the rather hefty dossier on the table. “That is the brief, moving on.” He breathed, going to the screen to pull up the pictures. “I don’t care how you do it, when you do it, where you do it, just don’t use a gun. Ballistics tells too much about our whereabouts. Locate, and disarm the bomb, Harry, and Y/N, hack into his servers after the two of you infiltrate. Planes ready, pack up and go. It’ll be a while.”

“Terran-“ “Wait a second!” The two spoke at once, trying their best to squeeze in their complaints and concerns in a last ditch effort.

“Go! Get out of here, you’ve given me a headache in the fifteen minutes you've been around each other. Argue on the plane and annoy the pilot for all I care. Just, don’t kill each other.” The director left quickly, desperate to get away from the ticking time bomb as fast as he could.

———

After the initial wave of disappointment ebbed away, she decided she’d better get to packing and quickly, if she was going to catch the flight. “Move,” She huffed, rolling her eyes at him as he continued to stand in the way of the door. “You move.” He breathed back, shouldering past her as he grabbed the rather weighty accordion file that held all the information about their mission. After briefly turning through a few pages, he glanced up to see that she had already started down the hall. Her strides quick and strong but focused; one of her angry walks. “Wait!” He called, jogging after her until he caught up. “Y’really gonna leave without even looking at it?” He asked in near disbelief, it was very unlike her to not want to know everything.

She turned the corner sharply, leaving Harry to stumble as he missed the turn. After correcting, he stopped at her desk, waiting for his answer as she rummaged through the drawers. Finally, her head snapped up at him as if questioning what he was still doing there. “Well?” Harry repeated while holding the file up, frustrated that she’d completely ignored him. “S’what the fucking plane is for, Harry. Of course m’not spending 2 hours on a plane, then driving another 5 and a half without some reading material.” Oh. Harry kept quiet, grumbling some sort of a ‘whatever’ before going to collect his own belongings to pack up.

••••••

(there’s the sneakerrr, i literally have been having the hardest time NOT thinking about these two because i’ve been in a very argumentative mood, call it the gemini in me but it is what it is)

#harry writing #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry angst #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x you #harry x reader #harry styles imagine #spy!harry #spyrry #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles on tour

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your-local-bookworm · 1 month

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Stuff from my old writing book part #5 ?

This is so precious to me, because they were in the middle of a war and he fell in love with the girl who was trying to take over his father's throne.

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rambleonwithrosie · 23 days

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You're daydreaming about a sexy man for the scenarios playing in your head... What is his profession?

These are your options. It can be any era of that occupation that you find sexy. So it can be an undercover agent spying for the Scottish rebellion to reinstate Bonnie Prince Charlie or it can be literally James Bond, it can be a modern man in Navy uniform or Jack Sparrow (pirates technically qualify as sailors) , your local wrench from down the road or that 50s iconic mechanic dripping sex appeal with a pack of cigarettes up his sleeve, a minstrel wooing a medieval lady at court or your modern music crush like Harry Styles or someone from classic rock... Just when you see these job titles which one instinctively drops your panties.

If none of them do (I don't think your sexuality includes attraction to men 😂 jk) but put in the tags what job does tickle your fancy

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jujutsubaby · 5 months

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hewwo world!

haiii ~ (◕‿◕)♡

i'm pree and i've been wanting an outlet to practice out some of my creative writing and i thought: what better way to do that than tumblr dot com ♡ i'm planning to write things for a bunch of different fandoms from various media.

💌 requests are open!

18+ !! MINORS DNI !! ヽ(`⌒´メ)ノ

here's what i'm planning to write for:

☆ jujutsu kaisen ☆ attack on titan ☆ harry potter and the debt of time ☆ harry styles ☆ chainsaw man ☆ legend of zelda ☆ fourth wing ☆ acotar ☆ and more!

here's my ✧ masterlist ✧

once in a while, i draw too! often to help illustrate my fics~ i will be posting my original art under the tag ✧ #my art ✧

okay gomen that's enough talking (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ enjoy, my lil froggies!

(っ ᵔ◡ᵔ)っ

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bumblingbabooshka · 11 months

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Processing some things

Also the fact that he's crouching with his hands on his knees is so cute to me for some reason?? He does this in another episode too - the one where Chakotay finds a symbol on an unknown planet...it's just so adorable to me. He could just lean down but no. Also of course his fingers are spread again - GOTTA utilize the whole hand whenever you do ANYTHING (if you're Tuvok)

#anyway. he's so pretty I'm gonna bite my arm off spongebob style.#Tuvok in the Maquis: I'm gonna spy on these criminals but also?? I'm gonna try out a new eyeshadow look.#Tuvok calling Neelix 'sir'....one and only time v_v treasure it Neelix #Do these replicators make clothing? (yes.) Will they make me a uniform like yours~?? (No. They most CERTAINLY will NOT. <3)#<- also Neelix is naked and Tuvok brought him a towel in a way that was very theatric but also very 'lets dry you off'#like...not just handing it to him #I love Neelix's scrappier early seasons vibe <3<3 #I also like whenever he was like 'GOD these Starfleet people are a bunch of BABIES...eat the damn leola root. It's good for you~!'#I FROGOT KES WAS HELD CAPTIVE BY THE KAZON???? KES ARE YOU OK???#Kes: I'm told I'm too curious...it's my worst quality~ <- and then the writers never let her out of sickbay #In my ideal world Kes & Neelix are like brother and sister (harkens back to Neelix's lost family and gives a slightly more sympathetic #reason for his overprotectiveness which would now not be romantic jealousy but still something he had to let go of for them to truly be #friends) and also Kes tried every work station aboard Voyager...every episode she's somewhere new but her MAIN job is still in sickbay #Kes is in a pseudo cult and she said nu uh I believe in a different pseudo cult and I love that for her #Kes: I don't want to be dependent on the caretaker!! (reasonable) Our people have magical mind's abilities that allow us- (ok Kes)#just bc she was right doesn't mean it's not a WILD thing to think HEhehehe #SNRKEHEHEHE HARRY STOP TOM CAN'T TAKE THIS #Tom: How can I let down the only friend I've got~? / Harry: Friend? What makes you think I'm your friend~? / Tom: -sobbing into his pillow-#Neelix saying 'Well...the fool needs company!' ok <3 I'm twirling my hair a little....got a bit of rizz...#literally an hour ago he was willing to leave them all for dead and now look at him #OUG hTom Paris the racism....ough the racism...not even the fantasy alien kind.......oaaau ugh oh it hurts the real world racism.....#TOM NO STOP TALKING!!! TO M NO THE RACISM - TOM PARIS !! TOOOOM!!!!! <- walter white screaming meme #(remembers its Harry's FIRST mission) a different kind of pain....#Janeway and Tuvok holding hands: We're so fucking doomed. This is a terrible position and we have to do what's morally right but #by doing this we're going to be trapped here - maybe for the rest of our lives and not just us but the entire crew. But we have to #do this horrible thing BECAUSE we're good people.#<- not enough attention is paid (including by me bc I forgor) to the fact that Tuvok was with Janeway when she made that decision #and backed her up...just a sad little moment to themselves #OOF Tom...three for three on the racism....TOM #Neelix's sales pitch...yeeAAAH~!!

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 1 year

Note

pic 7 w angstttt

Warnings: Description of police raid, mentions of firearms, descriptions of arrest tactics, use of law enforcement force/violence, law enforcement in general

You were livid when your father forcibly tore you away from life in Paris where you were studying to be a fashion designer. All to be locked you up in an ivory tower he made for you until the apparent threats against your life subsided. Your father was this filthy rich industry tycoon who dabbled in shady things and so he was constantly concerned with your wellbeing. But after a deal with some partners had gone south he started to receiving threats against your life. So he decided that you'd have to stay at home until he was able to fix the situation.

The first month was the worst; it was really lonely and uneventful. Your phone had been taken and your communication with the outside world cut off. But things started to get worse in your dad's realm and that's when he decided to move your family to an estate you had outside of the city. You visited it a lot as a child and when you got back there after more than a decade everything was exactly as it had been. The mansion was enormous, and there were acres of land to roam, even a river about a ten minute walk into the forest behind the stables. You had spent the first few days re-exploring everything to kill some time. But there was a lot to keep up with in such a big place so when things started to pile up he started hiring outside help. There were day staff from the nearby towns, but then there were a couple live in people he hired. Harry was one of the few live-in staffers. He was actually hired on as a private chef.

He had been working there for a few weeks already when you met him in person for the first time. Your dad was kind of a prick about "the service staff" interacting with the family. But he and your mother had been gone on business and you had wandered down to the kitchen to let him know that you were in the mood for a burger and would order it in, so there was no need for him to cook for you. You were pleasantly surprised when you met him. He was almost too handsome to be real, a bit serious, and far too formal with you (that was probably because of your dad), but you helped soften him up over the 10 days they were gone. After about two months of secretly sneaking out to ride horses, go swim at the river, or get drunk in the stables during the night, you two started to hookup. You were absolutely smitten on Harry. And now you'd been together & sneaking around for about 6 months and the summer was imminent and you knew it was going to be a summer of love. You couldn't wait for all of this to be over so that you guys could finally be together out in the open like a normal couple. That’s all you wanted and looked forward to. You knew your parents would come around.

Harry knew he had fucked up when he started to spend time with you in secret. You were so nice, gentle, and caring - very opposite your parents. You had fun together and you were smart and creative and he had very quickly fallen for you. He knew you were being kept here for your protection; your father had many dark secrets, but they were all catching up to him. And well, Harry also had a dark secret. He was actually an undercover informant and he was about to ruin your lives. Like the fool he is, he had told you that he loved you about a month ago and you said it back. But time was running out and he knew that he would end up hurting you, but he didn't want to lie to you anymore.

"Harry?" he heard you call his name as you snuck into the stable.

"Yeah, m'here, darlin'." he hummed as he stepped out of the shadowy spot he was hiding in and you smiled and immediately tiptoed to attach your lips to his in a warm and affectionate kiss.

"Mmmm, missed you today. Been avoiding me?" you asked him playfully.

"Course not, was just busy. Had to go into town to do the shopping for the month." he said. And to report to the director of the FBI on the status of my mission and plan the tactics for the raid.

"Right...that was today." you said and he hummed and nodded. He kind of seemed like himself before you'd gotten to know him. Quiet, a bit awkward, and stoic...something was wrong, "H, what's wrong?" you asked him, giving in to your instinct to make sure he was alright.

"What do you mean, darling? I'm fine." he assured you.

"You're acting weird..." you said and he sighed.

"I am, but not because there's something wrong with me. It's just...I need to tell you something." you smiled as he said this, "It's not good." he added and your expression morphed into a concerned one.

"Did someone find out about us? Are you getting fired?" you asked immediately and he shook his head.

"No it's nothing like that. But ummm...it will definitely change things between us and I just think you deserve to know."

"Harry, just tell me! You're making me nervous!" you groaned and he sighed.

"Fine. Fine." he mumbled as he exhaled loudly. He was struggling to look into your eyes as he shared this with you, but lying to you felt much, much worse and it was weighing so heavily on his heart, "I ummm...m'not just a chef." he explained, "I was hired by the FBI to infiltrate your dad's operation and..." you could see that he was still talking but you couldn't hear past him saying he was an FBI agent.

Your hands immediately let go of him as you took a few steps back. You saw him frowning at your reaction, but the betrayal you felt was even greater than whatever he was feeling right now. What did this mean? Had he just gotten with you to have more access to things? Had you helped him get your dad into trouble? You knew he wasn't a good man, but he was your dad and you loved him.

"Y/N, love-" he reached for you and you stepped back.

"Don't touch me." you said to him and he frowned, "You've used me to get information on my dad. To gain access to the parts of the house that you're not allowed in!" you accused him with tears welling up in your eyes and he frowned.

"I did, but I didn't start to hang out with you for that purpose!" He said to you quickly and you shook your head, "That literally didn't cross my mind until we snuck into his study that one time we heard Mary coming down the hall. I didn't start doing that until after that time." still, that had been at least 3 months ago, "I love you, Y/N." he said and it didn't sound the same as before. You didn't believe it even as he looked you straight in the eyes, "My feelings for you are real and they've always been. That's why I had to come clean. It doesn't feel right to keep lying to you and I didn't want you to find out when they come raid the place-"

"They're raiding us?" you asked and he sighed and nodded.

"Yeah. In two days." he said softly and you shook your head at him in disbelief and in disappointment.

"I need to warn my dad." you whispered as you turned around and started walking to the stable door. You started running when you heard him calling after you and your tears fell even harder and before you could slip out the door he pulled you back inside and held you down against the wall looking into your eyes and before you could even scream he placed his hand over your mouth to mute down any sounds you made.

"I can't let you do that, Y/N." he said as you sobbed, "I know you might be angry at me and you have every right to, but your dad is a sick and bad man. You have no idea the kinds of things he's involved in. The trades he participates in." he said to you as you cried even harder. He removed his hand from over your mouth when you started to struggle to breathe and you pushed him off of your body and started to pace around as you tried to process this information, "And...your mom is involved too." he said quietly and you whipped around.

"So you're telling me that in two days I'm losing both of my parents?" you asked him through your tears and he nodded in confirmation.

"I'm so sorry. I'm just doing my job! I didn't mean t-"

"Ruin my life?" you asked angrily, "You're ruining everything." you seethed and he sighed.

"They're bad people! They deserve to be brought to justice. Do you know how many people will be better off with them gone? Do you know how many lives will be spared with them gone?" he asked and it made you sick to even think that your parents could be the reason others suffered. That they could be the reason someone lost their life. Yes, bad people deserved to be brought to justice, you couldn't argue with that. But a person never thinks that their loved on could be capable of cruelty worthy of an FBI raid. And why did it have to be Harry who did this to you? To your family? You loved him but you also hated him, you hated ever meeting him and you wished that you had just stayed oblivious to everything.

"I will never forgive you for this." you sniffled as you brushed past him and headed to the door again.

"You'll be thanking me for this when you see what they've been doing in the trial." he said to you and you kept walking. "Y/N!" He called after you because he had one last thing to say to you. He felt like it was the nail in the coffin as you sighed and turned around.

"What!?" you shouted in aggravation.

"No one can know about us. It'll ruin me." he said and you were shocked he was asking that of you, "And if you say anything to your parents or try to help them escape I'll have t-"

"I don't care, Harry. You do what you need to do, like you've done this whole time." you said softly and left.

The next two days were absolute torture. Harry had tried to come talk to you but you avoided him at every cost. And your parents too. You couldn't even look at them the same. You felt like the ground had fallen away from under you and you had nothing left but yourself to rely on. Your heart was absolutely broken at the lies and manipulation...you had told him things about your parents. Secrets that you knew he'd use against them. He had said you weren't part of the job, but you felt like part of the job and nothing would ever change that.

When the police came it was barely past 2am. Harry obviously knew that there were weapons in the home. So when they came the tactical teams just launched smoke and tear gas bombs through your windows and when you rushed out of your room, desperate for air, you were met by another tactical team with a flashlight and fire arm pointed to your face. They were shouting for you to get on the ground, but you couldn't breathe properly and could hardly see through the stinging in your eyes. You could hear your mother shouting and your father cursing up a storm as they arrested him.

You were facedown on the ground, crying as they twisted your arms into hand cuffs as well. You were hyperventilating, trying to tell them that you had done nothing wrong but no one was listening to you. You could feel them patting you down even though you were just wearing a big t-shirt, searching for any weapons on your person. They would grow angry when you would take more than a second to answer a question they'd ask you. And it was 15 minutes of hell like that as they searched your bedroom before they finally got you up and started to escort you down the stairs.

"Where are my parents? Where are you taking them?" you asked and you got no response from the two men holding each of your arms. "I'm talking to you, assholes!" you huffed through your tears.

As you got to the first landing you saw Harry at the very bottom of the stairs shaking hands with whoever was in charge of the raid, you assumed. It made you sick to your stomach and your legs started to give out, but the men holding you were dragging you down the stairs whether you were taking the steps properly or not. They didn't care that you were getting rug burn. They didn't care that they were holding you so tight that you'd probably bruise. They didn't care that it still hurt to take a proper breath or that your eyes were stinging. They didn't care that the cuffs were too tight and digging into your skin. You felt dehumanized and humiliated and you couldn't believe that the man you loved had played a part in this.

"Jesus, you didn't even get her any proper clothes?" the man beside Harry said which caused him to glance over to you as you got to the main floor. He looked disappointed, sorry, heartbroken, guilty... you couldn't stand to look at him for more than two seconds before you looked away as you cried quietly

"Why is she even in cuffs, she's the daughter." Harry said.

"She came out into the hallway so we just-"

"Un-cuff her! Now!" the other man ordered and they quickly got you out of the cuffs and you immediately brought your hands forward to inspect them. Seeing the red marks from the tightness of them made you so angry you wanted to scream and wreck something.

"Miss, we're so sorry for the misunderstanding. Are you alright? Is there anything we can get you?" he asked and you glanced up to him with so much anger simmering inside of you.

"Misunderstanding?" you asked him incredulously, "Fuck you." you seethed and he frowned. And then you turned to Harry who was sure you'd at the very least spit in his face. But you needed to be smart; even if your parents were awful people, they’d never done anything hurtful or bad to you, you couldn’t testify. And well, what Harry had learned from you also didn’t seem like fair information to have. He only had it because he had used you and you also didn’t want him to be able to testify, at least not credibly.

"Miss-"

"H, I love you," you said to him softly through your tears and though he kept his composure, you could see in his eyes that it was hurting him and you were glad, you wanted it to hurt him. You tiptoed and you kissed his cheek but were immediately apprehended by one of the men who had brought you down the stairs, "but you used me and you're dead to me." you seethed before they dragged you away. He felt the lump in his throat grown uncomfortably large and it felt like his heart had just been ripped out of his chest. He couldn't look away as you were harshly dragged away. He loved you so fucking much, but clearly, it just wasn't mean to be.

READ MORE OF THE PICTURE PROMP BLURBS HERE

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry x you #harry styles x you #harry styles reader insert #harry reader insert #harry styles au #harry styles forbidden love #spy!harry #spy!harry styles #harry styles angst #picture prompts 2 #0nlythrowharrybeaux

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sushistyless · 2 years

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Sushi, imma need some marvellous LHH… I NEED TO FEED MY ADDICTION HELP

sparks.

spy h and y/n are partners and they meet after a mission

<1k (blurb) here’s more of my work :)

—————

(Y/N) walks alone by the lakeside, just at the edge of the forest. The stars are scattered out and wide in the sky… watching them calms her — calms her from the chaos her life has equipped her to endure. Just as she continues, the air behind her grows warm, own footsteps coming to a halt once realising the presence of someone behind her. The heat of another travelled to raise each hair on her neck, an alertness taking over her veins.

"You're here," Harry breathes out, now walking next to her. (Y/N) stops in her track. Breath hitching at the low octave and deep drawl of his voice, she realises just how much she missed it.

Harry.

She looks to her side, thoughts buzzing like the breeze that delicately blows her hair and sways the skirt of the dress adorning her body. Her expression moulds into that of shock, lips parting at his sudden arrival and the glory of his beauty. He was here. After so long.

She isn’t able to form a reply, still struck by his presence. Her eyes finally meet his dilated ones, gaze softer than his, voice keeping only the illusion of calmness.

He somehow seems to grow more and more beautiful each time she sees him. It’s been long, but the tug of his soft pink lips never failed to steal her attention. Granted, there were times when his smirk irked her to no end, but there was no denying that it made her heart flutter the tiniest bit.

His hair had grown longer than she last saw him, cascading down to his shoulders… and he looked beautiful. A silken cream shirt stretched over his torso, leaving the first few buttons open, just like she remembered he always did. The shirt ran tight, ornate gold thread embroidery against the muscles of his biceps with the sleeves rolled up to expose the inking etched into his skin.

"Darling, s’been long since we've seen each other. It wouldn't hurt t’at least talk," he spoke to her, moving closer, almost cautiously as if testing the waters. But in his deep, drowning emerald eyes, she sees eagerness.

They've always been this way— the green making them seem like a deep, dense forest.

A forest she loves to get lost in.

"It’s just hard when,” she looks away from him, gulping, “the last time we met was when I “killed” you, you know.” She’s humouring him too now, her tone having a teasing lilt to it, the heaviness of the sentence not particularly fitting the circumstances it conveyed. Lips rolled between her teeth, her ears gauge for his reaction, stifling a smile.

His mere presence sparks something in her and (Y/N) can feel his eyes boring into her side, the silence extending for a few more moments. She knows he’s playing around with her, trying to get her to relent and look at him (she’s trying not to, because he’s most definitely going to have this stupidly gorgeous smirk on his face). And he stays silent since he knows that she can’t bare to not see his reaction to anything she does. He really does mean a great deal to her. He remembers how once on a mission together, he had laughed at a rather lame joke she had cracked, and he swears he saw stars in her eyes. She was so happy.

He’s always laughed at all her jokes since.

That was thing about Harry— it was understandable how he was seen as intimidating. His features were sharp, his voice shed rays of assertiveness and his stature was strong. But (Y/N) knew he was soft. His smile shined brighter than the stars, melting more hearts than the sun ever could. His voice was comforting and low, perfect to whisper secrets to each other at night. And his cuddles, she thinks, tightened the rosette vine that she found was growing around her heart with every moment he spent with her.

(Y/N) tries not to look, but when she sees a smile plastered on his face from the periphery of her eyes, her efforts all go down the drain. Slowly she looks up at him, unable to rival the edges of her lips quirking up.

His head drops to face the ground, grinning widely then, a dimple indents the rosy apple of his cheek, “Tha’ was a good mission, wasn’t it?” And (Y/N) finally gives in, letting her love flow out by fluttering into giggles.

She’s been his partner ever since she could remember, having gone on endless missions and special investigations together. They were the best at their job when they did it together. Naturally she’d always been close to him, but never close to him. They’d grown to form a bond that was special… that they shared with no one else, and she’d be lying if she hadn’t thought of having something beyond that. Especially while he was away, since well, their last mission very blankly called for faking Harry’s murder.

She laughs, shaking her head lightly, “No, I did not like “stabbing”” — her fingers curl to form air quotes — “you.”

He chuckles endeared, urging her to turn towards him, now facing her completely. She accepts his touch with keenness, watching as he grabs both her hands in his and gently delivers a kiss to her knuckles. The satiny touch of his lips against her skin bring a heat to her cheeks, something Harry doesn’t fail to notice, looking up at her through his lashes. But this gesture wasn’t smug or cheeky like he’d usually be. It was… tender. It was as if conveying, I missed you. And the fondness in her eyes reciprocated something like that too, Me too.

His hands move to settle on her waist, the feathery hold making her melt into his touch. His thumb grazed against the thin fabric of her clothes, delicately tracing shapes— the action which has her emotionally crumbling apart in his arms. He half smiles. His cool breath is close to her face, the sultry words he spoke in a hushed, taunting tone, only painting a haze around her, "Ah yes, tha’ was the one time your dagger hit deeper than your words."

She bites the inside of her cheek, a little flustered with her head tilted down, hand coming to toy with the hem of his shirt, “Hey. I didn’t hurt you and I hated doi—”

But Harry gently lifts her chin so she can look at him directly, interrupting her resolutions. “I know, I know. We’re jus’ such great actors, aren’t we?” She laughs silently, mouth falling open to continue but he doesn’t let her. The air shifts, a more serious turn to this words, “But— and I’m not acting—” he moves a strand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear, sounding desperate and awfully shy for it to be coming from him, “Can I finally kiss you?”

Her breath gets caught in her throat.

He wants to kiss her?

“I realised while I was away, and even among the chaos during the last time we met, all I wanted t’do was kiss you. Y’so beautiful and smart and kind, y’know that?” He whispers to her, the octave of his voice blending in with the wind. He was so soft.

(Y/N) stands speechless, warmth spreading in her chest, “Harry…”

“And everything I did, there was always a piece of you there,” his voice wavers, “And I don’t think you quite understand how s’fucking bad for me, because you’re too damn easy to fall in love with.”

(Y/N)… she’s pretty sure her heart has never, ever, ever been so full.

She just can’t help the smile that stretches across her face, mumbling between the watery inhales from the tears that have effectively gathered in her eyes, trying to clear her throat and breathe in, nodding her head vigorously, scanning Harry’s face as he laughs silently, mumbling something along of the lines of Oh, sweetheart. With the promise of her wanting the same thing, Harry’s lips gravitate to hers, the feel of his smile mirroring her own. The euphoric feeling of her heart beating against her chest simply amplifies, hands moving to cradle his jaw, own lips at last brushing his honeyed ones.

And then, he kissed her like he’s wanted to do it all his life. It was something she knew was so special because it was with Harry. She was ready to get lost in this hazy world, all her senses consumed by him, him and only him. He pulls her closer to his chest, delivering a quick squeeze to her love handles before looping his arms around her entirely, tucking her to the moment, protecting her like the moon would do it’s stars. Like wings of safety and reassurance enveloping his precious completely.

He guided them, gliding ever so lightly with her supple bottom lip tucked between his, a tingling sensation radiating from the places he touched her. She slides her hands from his jaw to lace together at the back of his neck, tilting her chin up further to deepen the kiss, causing Harry to tighten his hold around her, his own little way to cage her in his doting affection. She could feel his toned chest against hers, the ends of his luscious hair tickling the crook of her exposed neck, a grounding factor that held her to reality or she thinks she would’ve been floating among the clouds somewhere.

Breathlessly and delicately he pulls away, keeping in consideration their breathing requirements, while still apart to be intimately huddled up with each other. Her lips are swollen and slick with his ministrations, a wild essence drifting in her irises and Harry concludes she’s never looked more beautiful.

Subtly moving forward, he rubs his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss.

“We’re just such great partners, aren’t we?”

And to that, she couldn’t agree more.

—————

think we all need a little lhh in our life :( so obsessed w/ him — also I’m actually working on a piece that does have something like this too!! but this is just a short (and sappy, lmao) drabble & I really hope you liked it!! <3

masterlist.

#I’m not TOO sure how I feel about this lmao #wasn’t sure if it’s good but oh well #but thank u SO much for sending in this request!! :( I really hope u like it!!#my writing #blurbs #Harry styles writing #Harry styles x reader #Harry styles fluff #harry styles x yn #Harry styles imagines #Harry styles blurbs #long hair Harry #lhh x reader #Harry styles au #spy!Harry styles #requested

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styles-harriet · 11 months

Text

Plot update

The more I'm writing the story and getting the chapters ready the more I realised that how lame the OG title of the story sounds. So I have chosen to change the title to "Twisted secrets" because the plot revolves more around this.

I'm keeping the art I made in the story, but making it more lively and maybe incorporate it in the wedding chapter. I'll change the cover art to suit the title later.

Now here's for the summary. -

The peaceful world of Harry and Allison is shattered when Harry goes missing for a couple of weeks . As Allison embarks on a relentless quest to find him she uncovers a shocking truth about their families: they are all part of a covert spy organization A.E.G.I.S

As she struggles to cope up with the new found life in the organisation and recent news about Harry's death , she bumps into some one in the grocery store. A green eyed someone.

Armed with her determination and newfound spy skills Alice follows a perilous trail of breadcrumbs navigating through a labyrinth of deceit betrayal and treacherous encounters. She uncovers dark secrets about her family's past and eventually realizes that the whole disappeared act was a part of a larger plan of a certain someone from her past.

Will she be able to save him and the Organisation? Or will she lose them both forever?

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

"Tangled Secrets" is a thrilling adventure filled with twists turns and intense spy action. It explores themes of loyalty trust and sacrifice highlighting the resilience of love and the power of unity in the face of darkness.

Follow me - oHarrietStyleso on Wattpad to read the book when it's published.

#harry styles wattapad #harry styles #wattpad #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fanfiction #spy story #dark #mature #violence #fanart

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myfriendfaust · 11 months

Text

Actually writing is fun when you just do it for yourself. None of my fan fiction is sexy and all of it is conceptually bonkers. I will not publish any of it.

#no one kisses everyone is having a weird time #currently working on one where harry du bois is driven insane by the ‘ghost’ of lely whose corpse has become a mycelium network beneath him #and also a le carré style spy au for asteroid city #don’t ask about ones I’ve written in the past. they’re normal I promise.#text

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fishnets-fingers · 1 year

Text

Out by the Docks

“Did you um- have you… touched yourself more to the thought of me?” She asks him quietly.

“What do you think, hmm?” He responds with a smile. He had come on his stomach and hands an embarrassing amount of times replaying that night. It was pathetic how much she had him in a chokehold.

“I would like to kiss you,” she says, scooting forward to slot her knees between his. “Would you like that too?”

He nods, tongue licking his lips in anticipation as his heart kicks up again. The butterflies start flapping about in his tummy as she leans in with puckered lips.

“I said that I’d like to kiss you not that you could,” he explains when she looks at him with furrowed brows. “You gotta ask me nicely, if you want me to kiss you,” he teases, kissing the tip of her nose.

“You want me to beg?” She scoffs.

PAIRING - spy!harry x princess!y/n

a/n - the long awaited part two to forbidden hours. it was initially supposed to be a small blurb that somehow became twice as long. thank you for waiting and i hope you like this part as much as i do. if you have any requests or ideas for the next part, let me know. as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome. happy reading!

Word Count - 6.2k (not proofread)

MASTERPOST

.....

பரிசோதி. Examine. Harry runs a check of his catamaran for the fourth time in the past hour. Sailing was something he grew up doing and that did not mean he took it nonchalantly. It was not an easy task in the slightest; if one was not cognizant and five steps ahead of every single aspect of it, the sea would consume them. In a lot of ways it was an intricately woven tapestry of mastering the control of being at the mercy of the ocean. Two completely opposing beliefs somehow meshing together - like acrobats swinging from one side to another, it might seem like they are at the mercy of gravity and the ropes beneath them but they spend their lives mastering and learning how to taunt the inevitable forces without succumbing to it.

“The sea is a cruel mistress, Harry,” his father would often bark at him when he got one of the knots wrong. Which would then result with him doing a plethora of knots over the next few days until his father was convinced he could hold his own with the crew. He looks around, one more time, for good measure. His oars were greased up, the fabric of the sail - albeit dirty - was without tears, he had more ropes than necessary, a smaller set of paddles in case he’d lost it, food to hold him over, and a can of water.

Late, he sighs, sitting in his boat that was bobbing along with the lazy waves. The sun was over his head shining radiantly casting small shadows. It was past noon and no one had come to hand him the message from Princess Y/N. Did she forget? Can’t be. Maybe the stupid guard is lost, besides, the docks were vast. He reaches into his bag grabbing a fistful of puffed rice and throws it in the water, making the fish - that were previously eating the algae from the sides of his boat - flounder up and nibble on the white flakes. He looks over at their streamlined moist bodies flipping over others as they ravenously eat the floating white specs and his hands absentmindedly tightens the knot that was anchoring his boat to the side of the docks.

“Took you long enough. Have you no regard for people’s time,” he grumbles, as a shadow blocks the beam out light illuminating the iridescent scales of the fish.

“That’s no way to speak to the Princess,” she replies, with a hint of mirth in her tone. He whips his head around to find Y/N towering over him on the wooden dock.

“I apologise, your highness. I did not know it was you,” his cheeks tinge with pink as he vaults over to the wooden structure.

Y/N did not look like a member of the royal family today. There were no silks or expensive jewelry adorning her body, her hair was not done up high with flowers. It didn’t make her any less captivating in the slightest with her raven hair slicked back in a low bun, a red cotton saree with the long end twisted around her waist to make a belt to keep the top half of the saree intact since she was not wearing a blouse, and a small black dot in between her eyebrows. She had clasped an oxidised silver ornament around her neck and a small ring around her septum. She looked like she’s spent her whole life here out by the docks rather than the giant mansions with sprawling gardens.

“You - um - look-” Harry starts.

“I’m in disguise, Mr. Styles.” She answers, pulling out a blank parchment paper and hands it over to him. “I apologise for being late. I had stopped by the bazaar.”

“The bazaar, Princess Y/N,” he repeats, looking over her shoulder to find it empty.

“Having guards following me sort of defeats the purpose of the disguise, Harry.” She catches on as his eyes scan behind her.

“Of course.” He looks at the parchment in his hands turning it around. “It’s blank.”

“It is.”

“I thought I needed to sail to Lanka to deliver a message, ma’am,” he mumbles, looking down at the sheet of yellowed pulp running his thumb over to feel for any creases or indentations.

“Ma’am,” Y/N snorts out. “Really? You’re calling me a ma’am after what happened the other night,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief.

“It’s protocol,” he tells her blankly.

“Was it also protocol to crowd me against my desk in the middle of the night?” She arches her brow, enjoying the way his face flushes with colour. “The message is intended for the recipient’s eyes only. Karthi will know what to do.”

He nods, folding the paper and slotting it into a small zipped pocket of his dhoti pants. “I should set sail soon,” he informs her, making his way into his vessel. “Looks like a storm’s heading this way.”

“How can you tell, Mr. Styles,” she asks, stepping forward to look over at the horizon to find rain laden grey clouds but is instead met with tiny fluffy cotton akin ones dotting the powdery blue skies.

“I can smell it. There was a ring around the moon last night and red skies at dawn. It probably won’t break ground until a few days.”

“Very impressive,” she praises, looking down at him. “Here, I bought you some food for your travel,” she shifts through her linen bag that was draped over her shoulder. She pulls out a box of rambutan and some partially cooked spiced lentils.

“Thank you, Princess.” He stashes it next to his metal box of food supply. “Do you come to town often in your disguise?”

“Not very-” she is interrupted by the sound of people marching and a loud whistle followed by a booming voice asking the soldiers to fall in a single file. “That’s the admiral,” she whispers, eyes bulging out of her head. “Fuck. If he catches me I’m so dead.”

“Hop on,” Harry tells her.

“What?!?” She whisper shouts at him. “I have to head back.”

“I’ll take you to the palace. I know a way - right behind your garden. Get in,” Harry offers, coming over to the side and holding onto the side of the dock.

Y/N balks, looking down at his rickety catamaran. The structure looked like it was going to wither away in a few days - calling it old would be an insult at this point. Prehistoric was more so the right word. The ropes were frayed and seemed used. She is pretty sure the thing was built before she was born. No way in hell, she shakes her head.

“Princess,” he urges, as the sounds of footfall grow closer and closer.

“I’ll walk back. Maybe I can slip past them,” she tells him.

“It sounds like twenty men, how are you going to slip past all of them,” he shakes his head. “You’ll only be dragging me down with you.”

“I’ve slipped in and out of the castle loads of times,” she reasons.

“There’s only one way out of here, unless you fancy swimming,” Harry points out. “Y/N,” he insists, holding out one of his hands. She lets out a sigh and grips his palm as she climbs into the bobbing catamaran. Once she gets situated, Harry grips onto the oars and starts speedily rowing from the dock, away from the bay.

Harry looks over her every so often at Y/N as he steadily paddles his boat away. She was curled into herself, looking very unsure with her hands wrapped around her arms as she looked back at the disappearing docks. When the vessel bobs due to a sudden current she pales, gripping onto the wooden plank of her seat firmly, eyes never drifting back to the pier. He’s never seen her like that, and he certainly did not peg her to experience trepidation, uncertainty, and fret. The memory of the first time he met her was etched into the deep recesses of his brain.

It was eight months since he’d seen her for the first time. He had quickly become fast friends with the Crown Prince - her older brother - who had invited him to train within the palace grounds. He made his way into the halls of the building in wonder of tall ceilings and intricately carved woodwork and artwork and was led to the sparring arena. Vikram was waiting for him sans armour - he believed that having armour on while practice lets one have a certain air of nonchalance with the training thereby removing the stakes. His moves and close combat skills were immediately applauded by the members there with the Princes - Vikram and Karthi - asking a guard to take him to the stables, so he could pick his own horse and learn how to ride. That’s when Y/N walked into the arena, dressed immaculately in a cream silk saree and a colourful pashmina wrapped around her shoulders. There was no jewelry on her body other than a pearl choker and her hair was pulled back into a loose braid. There were four other handmaidens following her, who’d stopped at their tracks by the opened double doors as they giggled at the sweat laden covered men.

“What?” She stalked forward and snapped at her brothers.

“Good day to you too, little girl,” Vikram mocks.

“I have far more important things to do than entertain you, Vikram.”

“Don’t get snippy with me because I pulled you out of philosophy class -”

“A class you should be attending,” Karthi notes, throwing his arm around his sister’s shoulder. “One word to the Queen Mother and you won’t see the outside of the library for the next month,” the two giggle together.

“Books don’t teach you anything, combat does. Anyway don’t go ganging up on me,” Vikram raises his hands in submission. “I just called you to meet my new friend,” he cocks his head to the side. “Y/N meet Harry Edwards Styles.”

Harry feels her gaze pierce right through him, her eyes roamed up and down his body. Being scrutinised made him straighten his back upright - mostly in a way to show off his stature. After a few moments her hickory eyes finally settled at his jade orbs. “Mr. Styles,” she greets him with a polite smile. “You must be the sea merchant who’d bought the crates of berry seeds.”

“Your highness,” he bows. “The sea merchant is my father.”

“Ah, makes sense. You seem awfully young to master navigating the treacherous waters of the Pacific.”

“Thank you, Princess,” he mutters, cheeks heating up at her calling him young.

“That was hardly a compliment, Mr. Styles. I was simply noting your lack of experience,” she lifts up her chin, keeping it parallel to the floor. “I understand from what my brothers have told me you plan on riding to battle with Vikram.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“As noble as your intentions are, how are we to know your allegiance lies with the flag of Chozhamandalam? You landed here seven- eight months ago, am I wrong? I don’t doubt that you’ve seen many kingdoms in your father’s quests, why are you choosing to devote your life to mine? Why not the Crown of England, the land of you and your forefathers?”

“Y/N,” Vikram states firmly. “You are insulting my friend by insinuating things.”

“I’m not insinuating anything, Vikarm. I’m simply doing the grunt work for you like always,” she bites back.

“Stop th-”

“Well she’s not wrong to ask this, brother. Especially after what happened the last time,” Karthi notes.

“You two never stop throwing what happened ten years ago in my face every single time,” Vikram gets frustrated.

“Your highnesses,” Harry interrupts their squabble. The princess staggered him in a lot of ways, she just met him but it seemed that she had some sort of an upper hand with him and it didn’t stem from her lineage. She seemed to know a lot about him from growing up in different parts of the world to the seeds his father’s crew arrived with. Surely royalty had no business knowing inventory of all the consignments at the ports; he’s sure they had people for that. His accent once thick and pronounced - resembling the dialect of his mother’s village - had now got muddled up spending time with his father’s crew men and it’s settled into a transatlantic hybrid; is that how she pegged him to be English?

Unlike most women he’s met, Princess Y/N looks directly at him - through him in a manner of speaking - holding eye contact until their exchanges come to a halt. It felt as if she was giving you her utmost attention at all times, but it was also unnerving because Harry felt like she was also playing a game of chess. Slotting individuals in their designated squares after she thoroughly sized someone up. She was still breathtaking as the day he first laid eyes on her but seeing her up close with her gaze trained on him, made him gulp down the nerves that made him feel like she was a step above him, as he spoke, “I understand the need for Princess Y/N to ask me those questions… If I may,” he looks at her brothers flanking her sides for approval.

“Please do, Mr. Styles.” She motions with her hand for him to continue.

“You are right, Princess Y/N, I have spent very little time in your dynasty as compared to everyone in this room but it does not take away my love for the people. You see, I have seen many places sailing with my father but almost all of them considered me a passerby - especially countries where people looked different to me. I have seen people treat people like sewage based on the colour of their skin, the faith they practice, or the wealth they’ve inherited. The first day I came to these shores, unloading heavy crates at the port, an old woman - who was walking off with a basket of fish - came up to the crew and noticed that we looked worn out and offered up some of the fresh catch so we could cook and eat. The captain denied it, but she insisted we must eat and somehow managed to have my father and the crew over to her house. She cooked for us. A woman who we did not know up until that day, invited strangers into her house and made us a hearty meal. So, to answer your question, my allegiance lies with the people, not a flag.”

“Satisfied?” Vikram smirks, taunting Y/N by bumping his shoulder on hers.

“And as for England, I haven’t been there in forever. I don’t have any ties that bind me other than it being the country my mother resided in.”

“Seems like you have your way with words, Mr. Styles,” she smiles up at him. Harry can’t help the way satisfaction brews in his chest in response to her smile.

“Oh, Y/N, Harry is good with swords, too,” Karthi tells her.

“That so?” She arches her brow. “Now that is something I need to witness,” she says, walking over and picking one of the swords that was mounted on the wall.

She unsheathes it, swishing it once to get a sense of its weight, before stepping into the circle. “I like a good challenge. Hope you deliver,” she tells him.

“I don’t quite understand,” he says, looking around the room for signs that it was an elaborate plan, only to be met with none. “Princess Y/N, I’m not going to fight you,” he steps back.

“Why not?” She arches her brows, pulling off the pashmina that was wrapped around herself and tossing it onto the readily waiting hands of a scurrying handmaiden.

“Because women do not fight, ma’am,” he mumbles, and both Princes snicker at his response.

“Do not? Or not allowed to.” She challenges him.

“It is not what I mean-”

“Do you dare disobey my orders?” Y/N cuts him off. “Now fight. Don’t let up easy because you think women can’t hold their own. If you do, I’ll make you disappear without a trace.”

He nods, squaring his shoulders and hoisting up his own sword. Far be it for him to disobey the Princess Royal. He’ll give her the fight she was asking for.

He advances first, much to his surprise. He expected her to charge at him but she gilded around the periphery matching his moves, unwilling to attack. She swivels his sword to the side and from then their duel mimicked a dance They moved harmoniously, almost like each move was choreographed, both matching each other moves, the sharp end of the blades kissing each other only to be redirected elsewhere. He can’t help but get distracted by the way her supple skin feels when she brushes past him, and the way her scent niggles his heart. He wonders if she feels it too, but no cues that signaled him. They were synchronized - strike for strike, manoeuvre for manoeuvre, a sharp turn for a turn. But when Harry notices, her eyes darting to his feet, he figures out her next move and backs away when she advances forward trying to trip his feet with her own as her sword swivels around. It happens seamlessly, Harry twists around to trap her arm that’s clutching the sword and lunges forward to press the tip of his scimitar to her side of her throat.

He expects her to look up at him with surprise and even a hint of admiration - both looks he was no stranger to from women - but there was no sense of defeat in her face. Instead, her eyes glinted at him as her lips tugged up in a smug smile. His brows knit in confusion and he follows her eyes, feeling a pointy object push against his sternum - harder this time. Y/N’s holding up a small shiv, which she tugged from its sheath tucked against her waist, angled directly for his heart.

“A stalemate,” she informs him.

“How?” He asks, suddenly very aware that he’s got her pressed against him in front of a dozen people. She looks even more beautiful up close, with a bead of sweat running down her temple, her honeyed skin flushed from exertion, her full cheeks, flecks of gold in her eyes under the sunlight, a tiny crescent shaped birthmark on the corner of her chin, lips like a flower petal.

He’s almost reluctant to let her get away from his grasp when she steps backward, immediately missing her warmth on him. A soldier collects the sword from her, before she tucks her shiv away in its holder. She explains, while draping her pashmina the handmaiden scurried over to give, “You got cocky. You thought you figured out my next move and thereby acted in a manner that made your vision tunnel to the sword in my hand. While you celebrated your victory before your sword even touched my throat, you failed to realise that I had a shiv pointed at your heart.”

Her loud exhale of relief snaps him out of his reverie, her shoulder relaxes a smidge but Harry notices that she’s still tightly wound. Her arms are crossed protectively around herself with her knees towards her chest. She should look out of place in the catamaran he’d bought a few months ago at a bargain - bear boned structure unlike the things she was used to - but she didn’t. Almost like the wooden plank in front of him was made for her. She didn’t look out of place, just a tad nervous. “We’re in the clear,” she declares, once the pier completely disappears from view as he rows over to another bay nearby. It was rocky and jagged, lined with palm and coconut trees, dense with shrubbery sprouting all over the sand with an odd dollop of violet flowers breaking the monotony of green.

“Told you I knew a place,” he smirks. “Besides,” he remarks, leaning backward to get more movement with his row as he navigates away from the rocks and towards the shore. “It’s the least I could do. Disguising yourself and coming all the way to the docks to give me food and bid me farewell.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Y/N scoffs. “I didn’t sneak out of the palace for you.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?”

“Stop being so cocky,” she admonishes him as her eyes fall on the way the muscles on his arm flex and bulge as he moves the oars. The veins on his hands looked delicious with the way he gripped the oars as he tugs and pulls back as he moves.

“Can’t help it, Princess.” He chuckles. “Especially with you drooling over my arms.”

Y/N feels the heat scorch her cheeks from his comment, immediately tearing her eyes away. “Shut up, Harry.”

“How was your trip to the capital? Did you confront your Uncle?” He inquires, asking her about the incident that led him to break into her chamber.

“Busy. The capital is never not busy. Dad’s sick,” she adds the last part quietly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” There has been a hushed talk among the people about the King’s decline in health. Stories of people coming down from the far East and embedding needles in his flesh, and letting leeches draw impure blood spread like wildfire.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. People contract illnesses all the time. I’m sure it will pass.” She turns to the shores, eyes scanning to see if there are people around and Harry does the same, even if he knows that this area of the bay is always deserted. “I didn’t talk to my Uncle,” she answers.

“Why not? Won’t it be best to put a stop to it right now?”

“Why would I let him know that I know what he’s plotting?” She shrugs. “It’s not about putting a stop to it, it’s how you do it. I didn’t talk to him. I asked to meet with the governors instead. Told them it was time we start looking for brides for the future King. With Dad’s health, we must be prepared for Vikaram’s coronation and it would not be a good look, if he did not have a queen by his side at age of twenty five.”

“That helps how?”

“Easy. While they were busy squabbling over what kingdom to approach for talks of courtships, with fear brewing in their chest about the possibility of the Dynasty having added support from another kingdom. I’d simply said that I do not wish that and I would much rather prefer that the Crown Prince marry a Chola woman of nobility - one that knows our ways and our people. I’d pointed out that many of the governors - especially the ones who were meeting with my Uncle - themselves have daughters who were fit to be the future queen,” she smiles, satisfied with herself.

“Smart. There’s no way they’re going to support your Uncle now. Pitting swindling tax money and being the power that comes with being father of a future queen. Why would they not want to be the in-law of the Crown?”

“Exactly. You seed the idea of climbing up the ladder, and they are putty. There’s nothing more seductive than power. My Uncle’s support ought to dwindle.”

She is a good politician and the thought makes his chest swell in pride. Harry will never understand royal life. He covets the glitz and glamour that comes with hitting the genetic lottery but the more he spent time with the heirs the more he learnt that it was all exhausting mind games, endless duties to fulfil along with conducting yourself the way people deemed fit. It must suck. Uncle who doted on you growing up is the same one that's planning to overthrow you all this time, he thinks. He pulls the oars in when he feels the boat make contact with the sand bed, jolting the two in the wooden structure.

Y/N lurches forward from the sudden movement, hands coming to grip his forearms to brace herself. “Sorry,” she mumbles, straightening up and squaring off her shoulders.

“Are you sure you didn’t come all the way to the docks to not see me, Princess?” He teases.

“You think highly of yourself, Harry,” she laughs, reaching in her linen bag and shifting through it.

“How could I not? Besides look at where you got me,” he gestures to the scenery around them. It was just the two of them on his catamaran by the shore, the sun shining high up in the sky, and a cool breeze makes it way to them making the leaves and branches of the trees dance in its rhythm. Awfully convenient, he wonders as they bask in the solitude of the crashing waves and the screech of birds.

“I got you?” She scoffs, raising her eyebrows. “If I recall correctly, it was you who pulled me into your boat. So, who got who alone?”

A right menace, he shakes his head. “Why are you here then, Y/N?” He hopes it’s to continue where they’d left off that night, his body pressed up unbelievably close to her. He doesn’t miss sparing a glance - when she tucks a stray stand of hair behind her ear, inadvertently moving the fabric of her saree exposing the soft skin of her belly rising and falling as she breathes. Even without all the fanfare around her appearance, she never looked less gorgeous.

She opens her palm, revealing a few brown candies wrapped in thin butter paper. A candy he knew all too well. It was popular in the port town. Sweet tamarind candy. “For these,” she admits. “My family thinks I should not be eating peasant treats. So, whenever I come to town to check on how the people are doing and how the children are responding with the school’s curriculum, I make sure to buy this in bulk from the market and stash it in my room.”

“You do it often?”

“Not as often as I like,” she admits, stuffing them back in her bag.

“Didn’t peg you as a sneak. Why not come to check on the people as the princess?”

“Because people don’t talk to me. They talk to the Princess. The crown. If they know I’m coming, they don’t see me, they see the ostentatious display of wealth and put on the best version of themselves. I want my people to talk to me, unfiltered as possible.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t been caught,” Harry claims. “It’s not the best disguise, Y/N. I can see right through it.”

“That’s because you actually bother to look at me. You’d be surprised how little people actually look into my eyes. People don’t pay attention to people they don't care about, especially ones that are from a lower caste and don’t draw too much attention to themselves. You’d be surprised how many people bumped into me today without so much as an apology.” She laughs, the tinkling sound cutting right through the monotonous sound of waves carding against the shore. “Besides, I’ve got my lady-in-waiting covering for me and my guards are standing outside the door, thinking I’ve taken to the bed,” she shrugs.

“Next time let me know.” The words tumble out of Harry’s mouth before his brain can comprehend. “Can’t have people bumping into you.”

A smile blooms across her face. “I’ll survive. Thanks for the offer though,” she replies, pursing her lips together in an attempt to refrain from telling him how cute he looked.

“You know,” Harry starts, taking one of her hands in both of his. “I was kinda hoping you came here and demand that you continue where we left off,” he confesses, green eyes flicking up at hers to gauge her reaction.

Y/N can’t help but reel at the sensation of his slightly calloused thumb drawing circles on the back of her hand. “What if I did?”

“I think I would like that very much.” Harry gives her a shy smile. “Was kinda beating myself up for not kissing you that night.”

“I didn’t know you liked me. Much less in a sexual manner-”

“I think it’s more than lust, Y/N,” he confesses, bringing her hand up and brushing his lips against her knuckles.

“Did you um- have you… touched yourself more to the thought of me?” She asks him quietly, hoping that he did not bed other women in town after that night.

“What do you think, hmm?” He responds with a smile. He had come on his stomach and hands an embarrassing amount of times replaying that night. It was pathetic how much she had him in a chokehold.

“I would like to kiss you,” she says, scooting forward to slot her knees between his. “Would you like that too?”

He nods, tongue licking his lips in anticipation as his heart kicks up again. The butterflies start flapping about in his tummy as she leans in with puckered lips. He backs up in the very last second when his lips were an inch away from hers, making her headbutt him in the process.

“You want me to beg?” She scoffs.

“Not necessarily but it won’t hurt to throw a please in there,” he mutters against the flamed skin of her cheek as he trails wet kisses up to the corner of her eye.

Her breath washes over him as she sighs, “Fine. Just this once though, don’t get used to it. Kiss me, pl-”

He cuts her off, smearing his lips with hers. Her lips were softer than he could have dreamt. His hands immediately move to cup her cheeks, tilting her head, so their noses weren’t smushed. He holds her delicately, like she was made of the finest crystal. Their eyes flutter close as their body relaxes into each other, lips moving in sync like they were destined to do this. Her palms slowly creep up his chest, resting firmly at the crook of his neck, grinning at the way she pulls a pleasured hum from him. Kissing someone never felt this right to Harry. They do it once, one more time, and another time before their lungs force them apart to pull in air. He leans in to peck her swollen lips again, silently thanking the ocean for bringing him to her.

Harry was right, he doesn’t think he had it in him to stop now that he had a taste. He reaches forward, wrapping a strong arm around the small of her back, while the other cradles her bum, pulling her onto his lap eliciting a quiet gasp from her. Y/N doesn’t waste time connecting their lips again. Only this time, Harry swipes his tongue across her bottom lip - seeking permission. His hands grip her in place at her ribs, resting right below her breasts. She opens up for him willingly and he wiggles his tongue into her mouth, licking hers hesitantly. She moans into his mouth, fingernails pressing crescents on the defined muscles of his back. He grunts out, feeling the heat pool from his chest and making its way south to his throbbing cock. They slot together perfectly, Y/N can’t help but grind down to help relieve the pressure building up in her tummy.

“Do you like it?” He pulls back checking in, talking against her lips as they pant against each other.

“Very much,” she answers, fluttering her eyes open as her forehead rests against his. “Am I satisfactory in this kissing ordeal?”

Harry lets out a boyish laugh, the one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle and the dimples in his cheek deepen. “You are heavenly, Princess.”

Y/N gives him a satisfactory smile. “You have a scar here,” she notes as her eyes focus on the small cut under his left eyebrow.

“Got it from a fishing hook when I was nine,” he tells her. They’d been on this ship for a month now and Harry was getting restless, so he’d convinced one of the crew men to teach him to throw a line. Instead of waiting for the instructions, he simply grabbed the pole and whipped it around, resulting in a gash and his father incessantly yelling at him for being careless.

Her fingers feather over the mark, ghosting over the skin. Her touch was so gentle that Harry wondered if she was afraid that blood might ooze out if she put any pressure. He goes to tease her but she beats him to it, pressing her lips to the scar. She lingers breathing in his scent - a musky woody one underlying the smell of the salty sea.

Y/N’s gesture makes his breath hitch, a lump forming in his throat. The delicate nature of her action, knocked the wind out from his solar plexus. He didn’t realise he craved tenderness until now, there was no one to kiss his boo boos on the boat. He barely registered the pain back when the fish hook tore through his flesh, instead he was apologising to his father telling him that he’ll be better while pressing a muslin cloth to the wound. No one has been this tender with me. “Y/N,” he breathes out as a single tear rolls from his eye, “Thank you.”

She doesn’t understand why Harry’s crying as he thanks her but she gives him a comforting smile thumbing away the tear as he sniffles. He kisses her again, slipping his tongue into her mouth as they both sigh in satisfaction. That’s how they stay for the next hour, tangled together as desire simmers in their nerve endings. Lips caressing each other, as their tongue prods and rolls around in each other's mouth. Harry’s hands rests on her hips, fingers finding the skin of her stomach rubbing circles into them as Y/N tests Harry by making him moan as she tugs on the curls at the nape of his neck. The catamaran lazily bobs in the water not wanting to disrupt the two, like the ocean understood that they were going to part with each other soon. But the sky had other plans, a distant rumble of thunder jolting them apart, reminding them of reality. Y/N shuffles back to her seat despite his grumbled protests, reaching in her bag to hand him some copper coins, “For your trouble,” she explains.

“You’re paying me for kissing you?” He chuckles.

“No! It’s for rowing me here from the docks.”

“I didn’t do it for the money.”

“I know but I insist,” she states firmly.

He examines the coins in his palm and laughs. “I don’t understand how you haven’t been recognized in the markets. These are the shiniest copper coins I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he comments.

Harry’s right. The Princess had no use for copper coins, she only used gold. The coppers denominated smaller values of money and had no place among royalty. She usually goes out of her way to request some from the mint in the capital, telling her father that she needs them to throw into wells when she makes wishes. Y/N thinks wishes were lame and if her father knew her any better, he’d catch on to the fact that she had been using the coppers to visit the markets. People rarely had brand new coins because it dulled and discoloured from use. No would have so many on them at once.

Their farewell was brief. Harry helps her to the shore, telling her how to sneak back into her castle. She interrupts him when he lets her know that there's a spot - one that’s covered in vines and deceptive to the untrained eye - low in the stone back wall of the butterfly garden of her grounds, telling him that she was the one who designed it to aid in her sneaking out. He pulls her in a long tight hug, breathing in her floral scent as he mumbled goodbyes against the column of her throat he was busy trailing kisses on. It wasn’t lost on Harry that Y/N was trying to sneak some of the candy she’d purchased into his pockets.

“Show this to the soldiers,” she pulls out her golden ring, which bore the sigil of her family. “You won’t need to sneak in. Tell them I sent you and show them the ring, they’ll take you to Karthi.”

He nods, slipping the ring on his pinky, before kissing her with reckless abandon as his hands move down her back, grabbing a fistful of her bum and squeezing it. Y/N laughs, poking his side before getting on her toes again, to plant a kiss on his cheek. He wades into the waves, pushing the boat further out into the open water.

“Be careful, Harry,” she calls out from the shore when he hops on the boat. “You know with the storm and all. Don’t want you getting lost in the middle of the ocean,” she jokes weakly but even from far Harry could tell that her eyes were full of concern.

“Promise,” his voice rings out with sincerity. “Got someone to come home to now, haven’t I, Princess?” He teases one last time, giving her a wave.

#harry syles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles yn #harry styles x you #spy!harry #princess!reader #princess!y/n #fishnets-fingers #COME SAY HI #please leave tags if you reblog #out by the docks

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