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oleander

oleander part one: nothing could draw y/n in the way harry could

wordcount: 11.7k+

cw: this leans into some darker themes including a description of a dead body, mentions of a parent who has passed away, some panic attack descriptions, and just in general some doom and gloom vibes! but I promise this is a love story im just doing something diferent!

—————

(Y/N)'s eyes followed the immaculately dressed figure floating through the shop. Barred from getting closer with the counter in front of her, she could only watch as he made his way through the small apothecary. He never glanced in her direction, though she doubted he was unaware of her eyes on him. 

Dried herbs hung around his head like a dreary halo, the muted tones falling in line with the rich brown of his hair. He was tall enough that he just barely grazed the line of lavender sprigs strung up and dehydrating above his head. His coat was of a deep green velvet, tailored to show off the broad of his shoulders and strength of his arms. The matching cravat around his neck stood out starkly against the white shirt under his grey waistcoat, his skin appearing almost as pale as the starchy collar standing stiff against his throat. She wished that he would turn around for just a second; she wanted to see his eyes. Were they really as dark as she remembered, or had the town's gossip altered her memory? 

As if hearing her thoughts, he quickly picked his head up and made to turn and match her gaze. She urgently dropped her eyes to her hands, pretending as if she had been preoccupied the whole time by the bundles of sage she was meant to be tying. Now her wishes turned to that of hoping he didn't catch her staring. She was sure he got enough of that as is when he bothered to venture down to their small village; he didn't need any more when he was simply trying to shop. 

Forcing herself to keep her eyes down, (Y/N) tried to forget the Count's presence (was he even a Count? She wasn't sure, but that was what she had heard the women at church calling him, and no one seemed to object). She hoped he couldn't hear the sound of her heart as easily as she could, the beats pounding through her ears just from the fact she knew he was traipsing around her father's shop. Casting her gaze out the small window situated by the collection counter, she tried to see past the thick fog that had gathered that morning and done little to dissipate through the hours. If not for the fact she had lived here all her life, she would have had problems navigating through the mist. She wondered how someone like the Count fared under these conditions. He barely left that castle of his, how did he or his footmen know where they were going this time of year?

Granting herself a single peek in his direction, she saw he had gone back to shopping. He moved so silently, she wondered how he was able to cross the apothecary so vastly without a single footstep being heard. She watched as he brought bundles of herbs to his nose, taking in the heady scent. He always did this, she noticed. He always looked around until he found the strongest smelling bundles. 

Truthfully, to (Y/N), all the bundles smelled the same. She couldn't notice if one sprig of lavender smelled richer than another, but maybe he knew something she didn't. It wouldn't surprise her if he spent his young years studying herbs and reading books about all of the healing plants, or whatever it was that young gentlemen did in their formative years.

Though it was a hard task to pull her eyes away from him, (Y/N) made the effort to do so. Her father really would be upset if she didn't tie up all these bundles before sundown; he barely liked her working at the apothecary as is, he didn't need any other reason to boot her from the counter.

With her eyes trained on her fingers and the clumsy bows she was tying out of twine, (Y/N) practically jumped out of her skin when she caught movement from the corner of her eye. Pale hands dropped bundles of herbs on the counter, just barely in her line of sight. Her breathing stuck in her throat when she whipped her head up, finding the Count looking at her with his dark eyes. 

She hadn't misremembered, it appeared. His eyes really were almost black, just barely tinted a forest green on the edges—if the forest in question was being spotted in the pitch of night, only a sliver of the moon and stars above allowing any distinction.

Her heart jumped in her throat, running faster than it had any reason to when their eyes met. She forced herself to swallow it down.

"I'm sorry, sir," she muttered, unable to pull her gaze away from his even if she instinctively wanted to look anywhere else. "Did you find all you were looking for?" 

"I did, yes." His voice was a lulling rumble, rounded and heady as if the goal was to lure her nearer. If not for the table separating them, she would have fallen for it.

Offering a quiet smile, she gave him a polite nod. 

No other words were exchange, as per usual for his visits. The Count wasn't much for conversation and idle chatter like the rest of the village. Instead, she could feel him watching her as she counted up his herbs and the price of each bundle. 

He was buying the same ones he always did: winter savory (he switched to chamomile when out of season), tobacco, and lavender. 

The buds together created a confusing scent, adding to the mishmash of what the apothecary already was. She couldn't imagine how he would put these three together in any space of that castle, the mixture too aggressive. 

Though she tried her best to concentrate on only the herbs, (Y/N) was too aware of the static of his presence. She wondered what he thought when he came down to the village, what he thought when he interacted with people like her. He was always so stoic. He never gave anything away, though that didn't stop the village gossip from running wild about him.

Swallowing around her dry throat, heartbeat bubbling against her ribs, she matched his gaze. The pricing for his bounty came out on buzzing lips, "Sixteen shillings please, sir." 

He didn't bat an eyelash at the price despite it being the biggest single purchase her father's apothecary would see until the next time he ventured down. Instead, he looked at her with his dark eyes and a tic in his jaw. He was unbearably handsome, made of cut edges and smooth planes, but he always looked at her as if he were angry and working to bury it down. She could never figure out why or what exactly made his nostrils flare or his jaw tight when he spoke to her, but she hoped she wasn't the only one he reacted to like this. 

His hands moved quickly, pulling out a small pouch of tinkling coins before he plucked out the exact amount for her. For a moment, she could see bank notes tucked inside the pouch as well. While she wasn't surprised that someone like him would have that kind of wealth, she had never seen it before with her own eyes. 

Passing off the change to her, his pale fingers grazed her open palm. Goosebumps immediately raised across her skin, his touch feeling as if he had been standing in the dawn's dew for hours, allowing the chill to cling to his skin and leach away all hope for warmth. The graze was quick, barely a heartbeat long, but she swore she could feel the lingering touch for moments after. Maybe he really did have a hard time navigating the village when the fog was this thick, having traveled in winding routes and wrong turns for so long he still hadn't been able to heat up even after spending time in the shop. 

Flicking her gaze up to his on instinct, she saw he was looking at the swatches of skin exposed from her dress, eyeing the goosebumps he had plucked up on accident. 

(Y/N) cleared her throat, nothing more than a reminder to herself to keep professional and not to gawk at the man. She placed the change in the small cup underneath the collection counter before reaching for his herbs of choice. A length of twine was used to tie up his product, ensuring he didn't lose anything on his way back home. 

"Thank you," he muttered once she passed them back, their skin no longer grazing this time. 

"Have a pleasant journey back home," she chirped, her voice decidedly pleasant against the bubbling she was feeling inside, "Stay warm." 

The Count didn't give any kind of reaction to her before he was leaving the shop in a flourish. Taking advantage of the window at her disposal, she watched as he ventured out into the fog. The mist mingled around him, making him appear as if he were a ghost—one with the Earth-bound clouds. She was only vaguely aware of the way her body heat ticked up some now that he had left. 

Though she could hear the sound of footsteps descending the stairs that led up to their home a floor above, (Y/N)'s head was outside the shop and away from her father. She didn't turn even when she could tell he had made it to the landing. He was used to it by now, she knew. Her head was always miles away as far as he was concerned—thinking too big for the village with daydreams that were only going to hurt her in the long run. 

The air around her shifted, telling her that her father was just behind her, likely watching to see what had caught her attention this time. 

"Is that Harry?" he grumbled, spitting out the name while dismissing the faux-title since they were alone. 

Her father didn't much like the Count—Harry, as he bitterly spat out. (Y/N) was never sure what precisely had set off her father's distaste for the man, just knowing that he thought Harry to be something of a boogeyman against the village. He didn't even go to church, her father regularly complained. What kind of man was he if he couldn't even bother to trudge down from his palace to spend some time with God, even if it was in the presence of commoners? 

(Y/N) never really minded. Though she'd never tell her father, church was boring. She couldn't blame Harry—the Count, whatever she was supposed to call him—for skipping out. Especially with the peeks at the castle she could garner if she trekked through the woods far enough. She wouldn't want to leave that place for anything. 

Nonetheless, (Y/N) answered with a soft, "Yes." Her eyes were still locked on the form of him she could barely make out through the mist. 

A grunt of disapproval left her father's lips. She didn't have to look at him to know that he had his arms crossed over his chest. "Are you okay?" 

It was when he settled a hand on her shoulder that she snapped out of her staring. 

"Yes, I'm well," she answered as placidly as possible when she turned to face him. She didn't want to show just how affected she was by the Count. Her father would do more than just grunt and disapprove if he knew just how drawn to the man as she was. 

He peered through the window, his eyes surely finding the one dark figure filtering through the fog. His brows slanted into harsh slashes over his eyes. "From now on, I want you to find me when he comes in, and I will take over. I do not want him talking with you." 

Her fingertips buzzed at the new instructions, matching the kickstart to her heartbeats. As much as she heard her father's concerns, and had listened in to all the of the stories and webs spun about this man, those did little to deter her interest in Harry or quell the bubbling in her chest every time she saw him step inside the apothecary. 

"I can handle him, father," she countered, trying to sound as uninterested as possible while attempting to hold her ground, "We barely talk when he comes in, anyway." 

The creases between his brows only deepened when he matched her gaze. "I do not want you becoming one of his victims, (Y/N)."

Her lips thinned at his words. "All of those stories are rubbish, father, you know that," she pressed, her words lighthearted despite the argument she was wagering by not immediately giving in, "Since when have we started listening to what Mary and Ethel have to say?" 

He didn't break any, even when she knew she was making a valid point to him. Gossip was prohibited according to the Bible, and yet he was citing stories she had heard the worst of gossipers weave?

There was no real reason for anyone to believe that Harry had anything to do with what had been going on just outside of the village, he was just easy to pin it on seeing as no one really knew him. She doubted any of them—including Ethel and Mary—could actually believe that he was the one behind the bodies that had been found in the woods, and the disappearances that had been added to the murder count. 

From what she'd heard, all signs pointed to animal attacks—wolves, or bears, or anything viscous. Though her stomach curdled at the thought, she couldn't see the Count being the one to rip out commoner's throats, to leave them crumpled in the brush with blood sinking into the earth. All of it was gossip and evil rumors that had not even a shred of truth inside.

"Still," her father stated, countering her argument, "There's something wrong with him, (Y/N)." 

Wrong was very far from threatening as far as she was concerned, especially when it came to Harry. Though, this most likely wasn't the time to share that opinion. She would keep her thoughts about him to herself, her own small secret against the rest of the village.

Harry didn't scare her like he did the rest of them, but they didn't need to know that. 

"Okay," she relented with a quiet nod, turning back to the collection cup so she could pass off the earnings to her father. "I will come grab you next time." 

(Y/N) wasn't sure if it was the additional shillings added to the cup or her pleasant agreement that had her father's features relaxing with a small smile on his lips, but she wasn't going to object.

Besides, she wasn't going to actually follow through on her promise. Harry was her favorite customer, even if she wouldn't admit it out loud. Her father would have to try harder to steer her clear of Harry.

—————

(Y/N) struggled with the strap of her shopping baskets, one hanging from her shoulder over her back with another dangling from her hand. They were stocked full and heavy, filled with everything her father requested that morning before she was sent off. She hadn't even realized how late she was running with her errands, how many items she had picked up and how heavy her bags were becoming until the sun had already gone down and her shoulder ached with the amount she had packed in. 

With the season's change, the sky was almost pitch by the time she made it to the edge of the village, the air chilled and crisp. Her father was going to have her head for making it back so late, but what could he have expected, really? He was the one that wrote the list, knowing half of the items were only available in the neighboring village. 

She hummed as she followed the path, giving herself some company and filling the silence. She hated being out this late—the dark scared her more than it probably should at her age. 

Her steps slowed as the bag hanging from her shoulder once again began to shift. No matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't stay put. She attempted to adjust the strap once more as she cautiously stepped over the path. 

With her attention placed elsewhere, she didn't notice the man in her way until she bumped directly into him. 

Her heart started in her chest, rattling against her ribs. She jumped back, whipping her head up with wide eyes. Before her stood the familiar dark-haired figure she had seen just a week prior, pursuing through the apothecary. 

Harry's cut features were pinched with a furrowed brow, his dark eyes trained on her. He was pale like a ghost compared to his dark clothing that blended in with the rest of the night. He reached out to steady her, baskets and all, when she tottered on the low heel of her boot. 

His touch singed her like snowflakes as he grasped at her bare arms. 

"H-Harry," she gasped, his name falling from her lips before she had a chance to collect her bearings. Her skin warmed when her brain caught up with herself; she'd never called him by his name before—or called to him at all now that she thought about it. "I am so s-sorry." 

What exactly she was apologizing for—using his name so brashly or running right into him—she wasn't sure, but she could cover for both, she figured. 

"It is alright," he murmured to her, his hands lingering on her biceps, "I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine, thank you," she asserted, "I wasn't looking where I was going. It has been a long day." 

Tipping his head, as if her word wasn't enough, Harry looked her over before dropping his hands from her arms and taking a calculated step back.  

"I'm sure it was," he said to her, his voice still a low whisper, "Is what why you are out so late?" 

(Y/N) eased into the conversation, despite knowing it was more than a little inappropriate to be alone with a man this late into the evening. She was flattered the Count wanted to speak to her at all, honestly. He always seemed so eager to flee from the apothecary and the rest of the village during his visits. In her dreamland, she liked to think that he actually enjoyed seeing her, this run-in being his opportunity to speak to her without all of the prying eyes trained on him. 

"Yes," she sighed, shifting the small basket on her aching wrist to the other, "I had to do the shopping today, and my father always requests things he knows I have to search all over for, so I've been busy since I woke up." 

Harry hummed at her words, his dark eyes seemingly lighting up with amusement at her trivial complaint. He eyed the heavy bags she was carrying before he met her eyes once more. "Would it be alright if I accompany you back home? It's too dark for a lady like yourself to be walking alone."

Biting back a smile, (Y/N) felt her blood warm under her skin. Someone of his status would know a lady when he looked at one, and (Y/N) definitely wasn't. He had to be teasing her. 

"I'm no lady," she explained, though she didn't sound that convincing under her smile, "But, I think I would really enjoy some company. Thank you." 

(Y/N) was well aware of what it would look like to be walked home by Harry at this time of night, alone on the path and unchaperoned. It would have been bad enough with any man, but seeing as this was the Count, she could only imagine the kinds of rumors Mary and Ethel would spin. The fluttering in her heart urged her to ignore those worries, though; Harry most likely knew better about societal standards than she, given their stations, and he had enough rumors swirling about him that he wouldn't want to add to if he could help it. If he wasn't worried, then she wouldn't either. 

"Lead the way," he said, smiling at her with dazzlingly perfect teeth. 

"Its not too far," she started, peering down the path to see the late night tavern still boiling with people and the small homes that decorated the mouth to the village. "It's just down that way," she told him, nodding her head in the direction they were to take. 

Before she went too far, she adjusted her grocery-laden baskets once more, barely holding back a wince at the weight on her shoulder. 

Harry still seemingly noticed even if she had tried to be discreet. He didn't immediately follow her steps back home. "Let me carry those for you. They can't be too comfortable after such a long day." 

While she was sure it was good form to decline his offer, feign strength she didn't have and continue on without complaint, she wasn't going to pass up on the offer to relieve the stress on her shoulder. 

"I would really appreciate that, actually," she sighed, shifting the basket off her shoulder in a haste, "Thank you." 

"No need to thank me," he answered simply, a pleasant lightness to his features as he took the strap from her hands. He slung it over his own shoulder with an ease (Y/N) could only dream to have. He didn't stop there, taking the smaller one from her wrist as well. 

She was free to roll her joints and feel circulation return to all limbs, more than gracious for her impromptu partner for the night. 

"You said it was this way, yes?" he prompted, starting down the path towards the edge of town where both the apothecary was as well as the flat above it where she and her father resided. 

"That way," (Y/N) affirmed with a smile, falling into step beside him as they started off through town. 

A careful silence fell between them, full of opportunities that twinkled like stars. This was her chance to know him, bask in his presence, learn who she had only gazed at from afar. Though every time she looked at him from the corner of her eye, she felt her throat dry. He was even more gorgeous under moonlight. 

"You know," he started first, unbraiding the silence, "I don't think I've ever seen you come out from behind that counter. I was starting to think you never left; like you were some kind of spirit attached with manning an apothecary at all hours." 

A bubbling peal of laughter felt from (Y/N)'s lips, her hands a fumbling bundle at her waist. "It feels that way, sometimes," she smiled, "But I promise I do have more hobbies than only drying herbs and counting coin." 

"And what might those be?" the Count pressed, looking down at her. In the low light, (Y/N) expected his eyes to look impossibly dark, more like coal than even in the daylight, but she found that ring of green to show more prominently now under the moon. 

"Um," she floundered, tearing her eyes away from his when she felt goosebumps raise over her skin and her heart bounce against her lungs, "I-I like to tend to our garden—for the shop." 

"I didn't know grow everything yourself. That must keep you rather busy." 

(Y/N) shrugged, "It can, depending on the season. But, I've figured it out through the years, and made it easier on me."

"You grow everything for your shop, then?" Coming up to a fork in the path, Harry paused, waiting for (Y/N) to take the first step in the right direction before he followed. 

"Most of it," she mused, an immediate list of their inventory coming to mind, "There's still a few things that I have to scavenge for, but I've become rather good at that as well."

"I don't doubt that," Harry smiled, the curl audible in his voice, "Was it your idea then to start the shop? Fill it with all the things you could grow?" 

"Oh, no," she declined, a furrow appearing in her brow, "My father and mother started the apothecary when my sister and I were still babies." 

"I don't think I've met your sister or mother," Harry shared, casting his gaze towards her once more, refractions of green shimmering in his irises.

While (Y/N) dreaded the subject, she couldn't exactly complain since she had been the one to bring them both up. Truthfully, it wasn't hard to talk about any more, it was harder to field the reactions of those around her when she shared the story. It was never easy to quell retroactive grief. 

"My sister married and moved to the country almost two years ago," she started easy, keeping her gaze forward, "My mother passed away when I was a child." 

When the Count didn't immediately answer, (Y/N) peeked up to find him looking at her differently than before. She didn't find pity swimming through his eyes, only sympathy. He looked at her like he knew her pain. 

"It is a hard thing, losing family," he murmured, shifting his gaze towards the sky, "But, it can only grow easier as time goes on." 

Tracing her eyes over his profile, through the immaculate stone-like chisel of his features and unblemished skin, she swore she could spot the same fine lines by his eyes and slight crease between his brows that she and her sister had sustained since their mother passed. 

She swallowed, hoping her next line of questioning didn't breach too far. "Have you lost family before?" 

"I have," he smiled, though it didn't completely reach those fine lines by his eyes, "It was a long time ago. It's funny how after a while, you can forget what it was like before." 

Though (Y/N) loved her mother dearly and cherished those memories she had with her, she had been without her for longer than she had been with her. She knew what Harry was talking about, exactly. Missing her mother was just a part of her now, and it wasn't anything she tired to push away or get over. She grew around the grief and held onto her mother in that space. 

"Exactly," she agreed, relieved to not be trying to quell someone else's grief and pity for her, "I've remembered her for longer than I actually knew her, but it does not upset me any more." 

"Good," Harry cemented, "She wouldn't want you to be bothered by her memory." 

Looking ahead, the town square was approaching with the town's tavern still full despite the late hour. That was the one place that could be bustling at any time of night, any day of the week. (Y/N) hoped no one would peer through the windows and catch her late night stroll. 

"I apologize for speaking so morbidly," (Y/N) laughed, though she didn't exactly feel guilty to be learning that much more about Harry, "Since you know more about me, I would like to know more about you." 

"I'm sure we could arrange that," he smiled that dazzling smile, "What would you like to know?" 

"I don't think I've ever seen you out in the village before, except for when you do your shopping," (Y/N) mused, hoping to learn a little bit more about what he did up in that castle of his. 

She watched as he shrugged, still completely unbothered by the weight of her shopping. "I come out every once in a while," he prattled, "But I suppose we never have run into each other until now. What a shame." 

Her blood warmed at his final comment. He really must be teasing her, trying to pull those shy reactions from her. 

Before she had a chance to say much in response, the rowdy tavern only a few meters ahead burst open with sloppy patrons spilling onto the street. The men were undoubtedly drunk as was apparent in the slurring of their shouts and the stumbling of their feet. Everything was too loud for the quiet of the night, including the calls coming from inside the bar, urging the few that had escaped to come back inside. The night couldn't already be over, it was still early, those beckoning voices said. 

Maybe it was the dark of the night, the fact she had never been around anyone drunk enough to slur their words, or the stark sound of it all, but (Y/N) startled at the disturbance. She almost jumped out of her skin, her feet stumbling with her heels digging into the crumbling sidewalk. She could hear a gasp falling from her throat though she couldn't remember making the noise herself. 

Before she had time to recover, Harry had swiftly tugged her to his other side. She was now covered by his body with her other side sandwiched with the walls of the other buildings lining the street. From where the drunken men stood, she doubted they would be able to accurately spot her given her new cover.

"Thank you," she murmured, her thrumming heart beginning to slow finally. 

When he didn't respond, she looked up to find him shooting daggers towards the men that were being pulled back into the tavern. His sharp jaw was clenched shut with his eyes narrowed in their direction. 

"Harry?" she sounded, breaking him from whatever he had running through his head. 

He whipped his head to face her once more, blinking with a flutter of curling lashes. 

"Yes, sorry," he finally responded, "My apologies, I would have pulled you away sooner had I seen them coming." 

"It's alright," she tried to soothe, giving him a small smile, "The shop is just up there, I think I can survive a little while longer." 

He cast his gaze over her form for just a beat longer, his shoulder relaxing some by the time he met her eyes again. "I'll make sure of it," Harry teased, cracking a smile at her. 

They shared those final paces in silence, (Y/N) feeling rather proud of herself and a bit giddy to have had him at her side for this long, his attention on her. By the time the dark apothecary topped with the small flat came into view, she almost wished they would round the block once more. She still had more she wanted to ask him. 

"It has been a pleasure, Ms. (Y/N)," he bowed to her, carefully pulling her shopping baskets from his shoulder and wrist, "I hope I will see you again soon—maybe we'll run into each other like this more often." 

"Maybe," she smiled, taking the bags from him, "Thank you for escorting me home, and helping with my baskets." 

"It's my pleasure," he repeated once more, the green in his eyes flashing with amusement, "Have a good night." 

Inching towards the door, (Y/N) gave him a nod. "Good night, Harry." 

A soft lipped smile on his marble-perfect face was the last thing (Y/N) saw before she was stepping inside the apothecary. The bell above the door tinkled, alerting her father who would no doubt still be awake upstairs.

"(Y/N)? Is that you?" he called down the stairs, the creak of his favorite rocking chair sounding as he stood. 

"Yes, sorry!" she answered, bracing herself to trek up the steep stairs to the flat with her body weighed down with all of the groceries. "I didn't mean to take so long." 

"I don't like you staying out so late after the sun goes down," her father chided her, pulling the bags from her form and taking them towards the tiny kitchen, "There's no telling what could be waiting in the dark." 

(Y/N) kept her mouth shut as her father went off on his complaints. She didn't mention Harry once.

—————

Dressed in her favorite nightgown with her hair braided back with the same twine she tied her herbs with, (Y/N) peered once more out her window, finding the same black cat that had been out there since she readied for bed still sitting in the garden. 

Her moon-yellow eyes were bright in the dark as she stalked and played with the bugs that threatened the state of (Y/N)'s herb garden. She had never seen the cat before, but she was tempted to convince her father to let her bring the creature inside. She would be a good pet, (Y/N) decided. 

Laying back against her pillows, only dim candle light allowing her to see her ceiling, (Y/N) cast her mind back to the hours earlier. Her day had been terribly uneventful, but had ended in heart-fluttering territory. 

Though she realized, thinking back to the conversation she had indulged in on her walk home, she never caught why Harry was out so late by himself, anyway.

—————

Grey clouds crowded the sky as (Y/N) carefully stepped over the vining brush at her feet. The hem of her dress snagged once or twice on some of the thorny bushes and the rough bark covering unearthed roots. Acres of towering trees formed a canopy above her head, barely letting any of the limited light through. She had her eyes on the ground as she tried to scope out those few herbs she wasn't able to cultivate at the home garden. The basket at her hip was already teeming with a good handful of different bundles, but she still needed to find some winter savory.

More than once, her mind wandered as she trekked through the trees. It had been a week since she had last seen Harry, and yet he was still the one thing that floated through her mind whenever she drifted to her daydreams. She could still see the line of his profile, backlit by the cloudy moonlight. In her dreams, she had the courage to reach out and trace over the line, grazing the bridge of his nose and the dip of his cupid's bow. He grew more and more gorgeous every time she revisited her memories. 

She was already known to have her head in the clouds, dreams too big for the village to contain, but she definitely floated upwards more and more since seeing Harry. 

A small smile worked its way onto her lips the longer she wafted through her reverie. (Y/N) liked to think that if she had acted on that impulse—dragging her fingertip along the planes of his features—that he would have cracked a smile, showing off the thumbed dimples and dazzling teeth. Maybe, he would have even looked at her, wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her to his chest before dipping her in the middle of the street. He could kiss her then, the moment romantic and brazen and—

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks the second she saw the dead body on the forest floor. 

If not for the pallor of her skin, she could have assumed this woman had fallen asleep peacefully among the brush. She looked to be around (Y/N)'s age, unbound hair spilling around her head. Her eyes were closed with her features set in a serene scene and arms crossed over her chest. Her palms were pressed flat over her collarbones, the same way those in coffins were laid to rest six feet under. The pose reminded her of her mother.

Though all of that tranquility went to hell when she saw her throat. 

While the woman had been laid to rest with utmost respect, that didn't take away from the fact her throat was ripped open. (Y/N) swore her own esophagus grew sore and tight while looking at the women. The skin had been slashed out of the way by something sharp and angry, revealing frayed sinew and torn muscle. The raw red hue stood out starkly against the snowy pallor her skin had taken on. Something had attacked her, taking out her throat and leaving her to die right where she lay. 

The most unsettling part, (Y/N) realized the longer she stood there, was that there was no blood. Where she expected to see a crimson crust forming around the wood or a puddle haloing the woman's form, there was nothing. Her wound didn't even look that gruesome, truly. It was clinically clean instead, as if a healer had already cared for her and planned on bandaging the tear before letting her head home. She had been bled completely dry, leaving her with rubbery skin, thin veins, and a clean white dress. 

She had heard about these incidences—people going missing only to turn up later dead—but she never pictured it was like this. To her, everything sounded as if wanderers were attacked in the woods are lost through the elements. Never once through her forages in the area had she ever met the face of someone whose life was taken so decidedly.

(Y/N) wanted to scream, she wanted to cry and panic and run. But, she just stood there. 

Time was stuck as she saw the woman with long red hair, unblemished skin, and a fine gown. 

All at once, the severity of the situation flooded back to her. 

Her sore throat was split open with a loud scream, blood-curdling and eye-watering. She dropped her basket to the floor, returning the herbs to where she had plucked them, before she sprinted towards home. Her dress caught on the thorns of the brush, her feet stumbling over the unearthed roots. None of the obstacles slowed her. She tugged her dress free with every pump of her legs, keeping herself steady with nothing other than the will of adrenaline and fear pushing he along. 

She didn't realize she had been crying until she saw the edge of the village in sight, her cheeks burning with her hands going numb. A man she recognized as one of her father's friends was out in his garden, cultivating the family vegetables when he looked up to see her, concern striking his features. 

"(Y/N)," the man called out, his voice echoing over the space.

Stumbling in her tracks, she fought to keep herself steady. Instinctively, she wanted to keep running until she made it back to her bedroom with her safety intact. She knew she couldn't do that, though. She had to tell someone about the woman, find her family and lay her to rest properly. 

Find who had hurt her. 

"Th-There—She's—Dead," (Y/N) panted, floundering around her jumbled mind. She couldn't find a single coherent thought in her head. 

The man's thick brows only furrowed as he cautiously approached her. "Dead?" he pressed, making himself appear smaller as if she were the creature to be cowering from for survival. 

Hearing someone else say the word had another round of sobs wracking through her body. "Sh—The girl—She's dead. In the woods, there's been another." 

Horror took the man's features. Blood drained from his face, leaving him shades paler than just moments before. 

"Another?" he asked, "Like the others?" 

"I-I think so," she stuttered, moments away from crumbling to the ground. She couldn't be sure if the state this young woman had been in was what the rest of the others had gone through. She hope it wasn't.

A curse was uttered under his breath before he shouted towards his home. He called for his wife, a woman (Y/N) vaguely knew from church. It only took a moment for a woman to stick her head out of the doorway, her features screwing up in worry the second she saw (Y/N)'s blubbering form.

She was only vaguely aware of the man explaining to his wife what (Y/N) had shared, and that he was going to get the others together to recover the body and care for her. His wife needed to take care of her, inform her father of what (Y/N) had seen today. 

Time moved impossibly slow while racing through each second simultaneously. At some point, she checked out, shock setting in as she came to terms with everything she had seen. By the time she returned, she had been deposited on the stoop of the church, a knitted blanket around her shoulders. Shivers wracked down her spine though she could feel herself breaking into a thin sweat. Many of the women of the village had swarmed around her, including Mary and Ethel. Feet away, her father was speaking with the vicar of the church. 

"Drink this, dear," Mary said, shoving a warm mug of something in her hands. 

(Y/N) made no move to follow her given directly, loosely gripping the cup in her palms. Her gaze was barely focused, tears still running down her cheeks, as she absently stared at the cobblestone under her boots. 

Every time she blinked, she saw the bloodless wound on the woman. Her thin, lavender eyelids masking unseeing eyes. Her thin fingers, the pale skin barely covering the bones underneath. The sections of her neck that were frayed and ripped, matching that of the hem of her dress. 

Murmurs arose once more around her. (Y/N) had no doubt there was already speculation about who could have done this—who would have killed someone in such a way that an onlooker end up as traumatized as the dead. A part of her brain pinged, knowing that Mary and Ethel would no doubt be peering accusingly at the castle in the distance, their accusations known without a single word leaving their lips. 

Now more than ever, having seen a body, (Y/N) had no doubt that Harry had nothing to do with these disappearances. 

No human could do what she saw in the woods. 

—————

"Let me grab my coat, and John and I will escort you back home." 

(Y/N) did her best to school her features, regulate her reaction before reaching a gentle hand on Margret's shoulder to keep her from ascending the stairs. 

"Oh, no," (Y/N) declined, canting her head with a soft smile, "You've already been too kind tonight. I can make it on my own—home's barely a block away." 

Margret chewed her lip between her teeth, looking over her shoulder to where her parents were standing by the hearth. So many eyes were on them and their interaction. 

"Really, Marg," (Y/N) tried again, "My father and I appreciate everyone's kindness enough, I would hate to put you out even more and make you go out in a storm like this." 

"But," Margret started, "I don't want to leave you alone. The storm is bad enough without everything that... happened." 

Almost two weeks had passed since (Y/N)'s run-in in the woods, and yet the village's paranoia was at an all-time high. Her father had been at her side near constant since he had finished speaking with the vicar, promising her that he wouldn't let that happen again—finding something so gruesome, as well as a silent promise that she wouldn't become the gruesome sight. He had been shaken by her reaction, telling the vicar that he had never seen her so vulnerable, on the edge of hysterics. 

Any herb they couldn't grow in the garden would now be out of stock until he himself could forage through the woods, but she would never be tasked with going by herself. Otherwise, he was going to be at her side as often as he could be, ensuring she was never alone. If he couldn't be there, then he had pooled together a batch of close family friends who would be willing to stand in for him. She would never be by herself, never vulnerable to another fright. 

(Y/N) was losing her mind. 

Everyone walked on eggshells around her, having seen her breakdown in real time. They heeded her father's request as if law, never allowing her even a second of alone time if not in the safety of her bedroom. Even her time in the garden had been reduced to a field trip for every young woman who was tasked to be at her side, chattering about the most lighthearted of subjects.

While in a few ways, (Y/N) couldn't blame her father, she selfishly didn't really care. She needed her freedom, even if that freedom came in the form of a short walk to her home by herself. 

"I promise I will be alright," (Y/N) tried to soothe her friend, offering her beaming smile to Margret's parents and brother as well. "Thank you all for dinner, please don't let me add to the burden by making you all escort me home in a storm. I would never forgive myself if any of you fell ill." 

It was Margret's mother that seemed to waver from (Y/N)'s reasoning. She most likely didn't want her children out in the rain, either. (Y/N) wasn't the only one in the village that needed to be protected from whatever lived in the woods. 

Peering over her shoulder, Margret searched for her parents blessing that came in the form of a small dip of her father's chin. 

"I will come visit you in the morning, then," Margret cemented, "to make sure you're alright." 

"I look forward to it," (Y/N) chirped, bringing her friend in for a small hug before inching towards the front door. She gave her beaming smile to the rest of the family. "Thank you again," she said, "Dinner was wonderful. I'll have to steal the recipe sometime, Mrs. Wayfield." 

"I'll send it with Margret in the morning, dear," she said, her smile tight, "Get home safe. Don't linger longer than you have to." 

"Absolutely," (Y/N) promised, pulling the hood of her purple cloak over her head. 

Final goodbyes were shared before (Y/N) stepped outside, the raging storm that had been rattling the roof of the home now whipping against her form.

As much as the wind stung her eyes and the rain chilled her skin, she reveled in the experience. She was alone, finally. 

Despite what Mrs. Wayfield said, she definitely lingered longer than she needed to, allowing the rain to soak her cloak and begin to seep through her dress. She had never been one to steep in the rain or bask in storms, but that was going to be changing tonight. 

The direct walk home was decidedly short, taking less than a block's worth of steps to take her there, but she was going to make it as long as possible. She might even take the scenic route, stepping through the center of town for no reason at all other than she wanted to. 

Heavy droplets of rain weighed down her cloak the longer she took outside, the wind whipping the hem around her in waves. Taking her time, she ambled over the cobblestones of the town square, ignoring the drops that slipped over her warm cheeks. 

Suddenly, the storm changed once she reached the center of town. 

Before, it had been nothing but rain and wind, the kind of storm that would put her to sleep in a matter of minutes. Something shifted in a matter of moments, taking the wind and amping it up into swirling chills. A crack of lightning lit up the sky, making shadowy ghosts of all the buildings and turning the trees into bony hands reaching towards the heavens. Thunder rattled the Earth a moment later. The large drops of rain quickly became a heavy downpour, slicking down her form until her clothing was stuck to her body and her eyes were struggling to blink through the droplets. Every time she peeked through slitted eyes, the sheets slammed down thick enough she could barely see through it.

The scenic route no longer seemed fun now that she was out here. She should have just gone home like she promised. 

(Y/N) had to step carefully over the cobblestones, not trusting the grip of her boots over the cracks. She wished she could sprint though the barrage, but she would no doubt lose her footing and smash her face into the rocky ground if she did. 

Instead, she kept her head down and tried to navigate back home through the rain, lacking sight. She kept her pace as steady as possible, giving all her focus to the task of making it home, though she was vaguely aware of a familiar panic growing in her chest. 

As much as she had wanted to be alone, take time by herself and live in the village without her father's word being law, she still saw the gruesome body every time she closed her eyes. (Y/N) had nightmares of that moment she had come across the young woman, though this time she blinked her eyes open when (Y/N) grew close enough before snatching at her foot. A shaky breath expanded (Y/N)'s lungs at the childish fear that something could even be following behind her at the moment. She would have no idea if there was; every sound was drowned out by the pouring rain, her sight impaired by the water running over her eyes and the heavy sheets acting like a fog over the village. 

Unable to resist the urge, (Y/N) whipped her head around, trying to catch the monster in the act of following her. Unsurprisingly, no one was there. 

She was alone, just as she had wished. 

Spinning around, the village was completely vacant. No one knew she was out here. No one would even know if she had been snatched like that young woman. Not until she was found again.

That flare of panic in her chest rose again, clogging her throat and thickening her head. 

She needed to get out of here. Being alone wasn't worth this. She should have just taken up Margret and John on their offer and gone straight to her room. She could have found her alone time on another day. 

Picking the first direction in front of her, (Y/N) stormed through. This had to take her home, right? She had lived in this flat almost all of her life, she wouldn't forget where it was. 

Until, of course, (Y/N) noticed she had taken the complete wrong direction, heading towards the opposite end of the village. A strike of lightning lit up the grey sky, showing off the vague shadow of the towering castle in the distance. 

The Count's home. She had to turn around; she was no where close to the apothecary. 

This time, when (Y/N) spun around, trying to find a direction to head through her woolen throat and mounting panic, she couldn't decide. What if she went the wrong way again? What if she ended up back in the town center? 

What if she died out here? 

The morbid turn of her thoughts took her breath away. 

She was stunned in place, unable to make any move in any direction. 

Suddenly, a hand settled on her shoulder, stilling her shaking form. 

"(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?" 

(Y/N) stumbled, turning around to face to familiar voice speaking right behind her. 

There, backlit by another round of lightning and thunder, was Harry. 

His hair was almost black under the rain, near soaked despite having barely been out in the elements for longer than a few moments. His velvet jacket grew darker with every drop absorbed into the thick fabric. He pale skin was a beacon in the gloom. 

"H-Harry?" 

"You can't stay out here, (Y/N). You're going to fall ill, or worse," he told her, concern dripping from his tone the same way the rain clumped through the length of her lashes. 

When she gave her body permission to do so, she wasn't sure, but in a heartbeat she was clinging to his form. He was her safety in the middle of his storm, keeping her from falling victim to the most morbid of her thoughts. It was beyond improper, but she didn't care as she dug her fingers into his waistcoat. He couldn't leave her here.

"I-I was trying to go home," she whined, her voice fragile under the weight of everything. "I think I'm l-lost." 

She felt pathetic to utter something so silly given she knew this town like the back of her hand, but it was a truth. 

Harry lingered in front of her for a moment, seemingly assessing her before he sprung into action. 

"That's alright," he murmured, speaking as if she were an injured animal, "Let me take you home. I think I remember the way. Is that okay? I have my carriage over there." 

He pointed behind himself, where another slice of lightning revealed a black, boxy carriage led by regal white horses. She could see the vague form of someone sitting in the coach box. 

When she didn't immediately answer, he wrapped a tentative arm around her form. "Let me get you home, (Y/N)." 

She gave an absent nod, willing to let him take her anywhere—anything was better than this, she decided. He bundled her against him as he took her to the side of the carriage, sacrificing an arm holding her middle to open the door. He helped heave her inside, getting her in as quickly as possible.

"Thank you," she peeped when she settled on the bench seat. She kept her eyes on him as he waited a moment, relaying to the driver the new destination.

Her body shook with unstoppable tremors as Harry climbed in after her, her soaked clothing ruining the red velvet under her. She would have to apologize to him later.

It was here, in the dry of his carriage, that (Y/N) realized she was sobbing with rivers of hot tears pouring down her cheeks. It wasn't just the chill of the rain that had her feeling as if she couldn't breathe, she realized. In the safety of the cover, wracking sobs kept her from properly filling her lungs, her inhales way too short to be safe. 

The carriage spun around her despite the way (Y/N) tried to focus on her hands on her lap. This wasn't good, she knew. 

"(Y/N)," she heard, the voice firm and commanding, "Look at me, darling." 

Absently, she pulled her head up to face Harry. 

He was inches away from her. (Y/N) could make out the the shattered shards of green around his black pupils. The strong line of his nose and pillow lips were right there. 

Harry was dazzling. Breathtaking. 

Unfortunately, breathtaking was the last thing she needed right then. 

Before she knew any better, (Y/N)'s lashes fluttered as her eyes fell closed on their own accord, her breathing stunted in her lungs. The last thing she was aware of was Harry's panicked call of her name before she spilled over the velvet seat as she lost consciousness. 

—————

When (Y/N) finally cracked her eyes open, her limbs felt impossibly heavy as if she had rocks tied to each end as she sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Her bleary sight took it's time clearing, allowing heartbeats to pass before the blurry streaks around her came into focus. 

She was in an immaculate bedroom, she realized. Her body was cushioned by luxurious velvet, dyed a deep crimson. The mattress underneath was plush and inviting, urging her to sink deeper and deeper into the dreamy bedding and warmth it offered. A length of fur ran across the end of the bed, tickling her bare ankles as she stretched. 

Sitting up where she had been nestled atop the bed, more and more of her head came to her. The bed was even more opulent that she thought. Four posters shot up from around the frame, holding curtains made of delicate black lace. Her hands ached just looking at it, thinking about how long it would take to make something so beautiful, even with the help of one of those sewing machines. More furs and velvet decorated the large space; everything honing in on the darker spectrum of colors. Here and there, pops of gold thread appeared like minute rays of sunlight. At the bedside was a bouquet of cut flowers, all in rich violet hues and smelling sweet enough to draw her in like a butterfly. And she almost did, sticking her nose into the tall stalk of trumpet shaped flowers until she realized what kind they were and jerked back. 

Foxglove, she recognized them to be. Poisonous. 

Around the stalk were wisteria blooms and plumes of baby's breath. The wisteria was another set of flowers that were gorgeous to look at, but deadly in the end. 

Pulling away with a stiff back, she set her bare feet on the ground. Now that she was free from the flowers, the woody scent of winter savory and spike of tobacco in the background were the prominent aromas taking her attention. Looking around her, her cloak was dry, laid on the end of her borrowed bed alone with her boots set up in a neat row by her feet. 

This place was extravagant. A fairytale daydream, perfect for her head-in-the-clouds mindset. 

This had to be a castle. No random hut could have something this indulgent.

There was only one castle she knew of. 

Memories came back to (Y/N) in pieces. 

The storm. She had left the Wayfields' home, telling them she would head straight home despite knowing she was lying. She had wanted some time alone, away from her father's overprotective gaze. But the storm was too much. She had pathetically lost her way and panicked, remembering the woman she had found in the woods. 

Then, there was the gleaming black carriage. The ghostly pale face of the Count who offered to take her home, get her out of the rain and into safety before he would be on his way. She remembered him helping her into the carriage, telling the coachman that they needed to drop her back at the apothecary. Her emotions had fluctuated to opposite ends of the spectrum: extreme panic under the sheets of rain to the deep relief she felt at seeing a familiar face who could help her. 

The last few things she could remember was the guilt she felt at ruining the luxe seating in the Count's carriage before looking up to see him facing her directly with his breathtaking features. That was all that had been left before she tumbled back and lost consciousness. 

This was no doubt the Count's home. There had been times she had wondered what kind of interior a building as magnificent as this one would have, but she had never thought of something this indulgent. 

Though, despite her admirations, she couldn't stay here. 

She was never supposed to take even the long walk home, let alone travel all the way to the gargantuan home that the most notorious member of the village resided in. (Naming him as a member of their village was a stretch, but the easiest way for (Y/N) to think at the moment). There was no telling how long she had been out, but her father was going to kill her even if it was ten seconds. 

Despite the ache in her bones and the stiff fabric of her ill dried dress, she forced her boots back on, the laces pulled into clumsy bows. Her cloak was grabbed in a haste before she started towards the door. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she needed to get back home as soon as she could.

Swinging open the heavy door, (Y/N) swayed on her feet, stopping in her tracks when she saw who was on the other side. 

Propped against the opposing wall, between more cut flowers and immaculate paintings, was the Count himself. 

He was at attention within a second, but (Y/N) had caught the way he had been slumped against the wall, his shoulders a sullen slope. In an instant, he had crossed the grand hall to meet her at her door, his hands reaching out towards her. His eyes looked darker than ever, only light shatters of deep green apparent in his iris. His usually flawless hair was left in disarray. Somewhere, he had shed his coat and cravat, leaving the billowed sleeves of his shirt and grey waistcoat the only articles on his torso. Even the neckline of his white shirt had been left loose, a stretch of creamy skin on display. 

"Are you okay?" he breathed out, his gaze immediately tripping down her form before she had a chance to answer, "I-I tried to make sure you hadn't injured your head, or-or worse when you fell faint, but I couldn't be positive." 

Her lashes fluttered in a blink as she startled over his concern. She had never seen him so discomposed, his demeanor world's away from calm. 

"I-I'm alright," she breathed, finding her tongue in her dry mouth, "You brought me to your home?" She could vaguely remember him ordering the coachman to take her home, back to the flat above the apothecary. 

He wet his lips, his eyes searching through hers as he collected his words. "When you fell faint," he started, "I was not sure if you would have been alone if I took you home. I was worried; I decided to take you back here, so I could keep an eye on you. That's all, I swear it." 

She was sure he knew just as well as she that being alone like this—unchaperoned, neither of them dressed as they typically should be, no one aware of her whereabouts—was more inappropriate than a single moonlight stroll through town. This could ruin both of them if anyone found out; (Y/N) would be deemed unbecoming for marriage, and the small amount of reputation Harry had would be buried six feet under. 

Throughout all, (Y/N) still found her skin warming, seeing how genuinely he spoke of her and his worry of her well-being. Other than her cloak and boots, she could tell none of her clothing had been tampered with. He had done nothing more than keep an eye on her. 

"Thank you," she swallowed, nodding her head as she allowed a small smile to curl her lips. She felt a bit desperate then, hoping he knew how deep her gratitude went. "Truly, thank you. I-I don't know what happened to me, it was scary." 

"I'm sure it was," he murmured, the tight set to his features loosening the longer she stood in one piece before him. "I am glad I found you when I did." 

"How long has it been?" she asked, noticing not a single window that could give away the time of day. She wasn't even sure if it was still night time.

He deflated some at her words. "A few hours, I think" he shared, dropping his gaze as if realizing just now how long he had been her self-appointed guardian, "The storm finally ended not too long ago. You were exhausted, (Y/N)." 

She had never heard her name wrapped in his voice before. Looking at him now, she was back in that carriage with her lungs stunted and mind only on him. She swore she could see his eyes lightening before her gaze, more and more green coming to the surface like a murky pond under sunlight. The panicked urge she had to race home slowly melted out of her. 

"I'm not surprised," she agreed, finally breaking her gaze from his for no other reason than to allow her breath to come back. She cast her eyes around the opulent space, taking in the priceless art around her, the glossy flooring and detailed decor. "This is your home?" 

"For as long as I can remember," he smiled, pride straightening his shoulders as he followed her line of sight, "It's my sanctuary. If you'd like, I can have the kitchen make something for you and I can give you a tour of the grounds in the meantime." 

Instantly, she wanted to accept. She wanted to see what kind of creations a place like this could make in the kitchen. She wanted to know where he had found such gorgeous, but deadly plantlife. She wanted to know if any of her daydreams had been right about this place. 

Unfortunately, there was that niggling worry that popped back up in the back of her mind. 

"As much as I would love to, I can't," she reluctantly let out, "I have to go home. My father... he's probably rallying the village as we speak, trying to find me before he loses his mind." 

Harry's expression fell, losing that pride over her praise. Nonetheless, he gave her a relenting nod. "I understand," he said, cracking a small smile, "I have had you hidden away for long enough, I suppose. I'll have my staff ready my carriage, and I'll have you home by dawn."

"Thank you," she said earnestly once more, "Really, Harry. I fear where I would be if you hadn't come across me." 

"I do as well," he shared, his voice low as if sharing a secret with her. 

This time, (Y/N) didn't wipe the smile from her lips as she looked up at him. Another shade of green seemingly appeared in his gaze. 

—————

"You're not coming with me?" (Y/N) asked, poking her head out of the door of the coach when Harry didn't immediately follow after her. The first rays of sunlight were beginning to crest the horizon, giving away just how long she had been far from home, though that didn't stop her from stalling. 

"Unfortunately," he said, keeping his feet planted on the ground outside the carriage. He looked up at her from where he stood, holding the door open as he spoke to her. "I have business to attend to very soon; I wouldn't have time to arrange everything if I escorted you this morning. I hope you'll accept my apologies, anyway." 

Though she was disappointed she would lose out on time with him, she couldn't blame him. He must be a busy man if he had this place to call home and a full staff to take care of it. He didn't have time to chauffeur her around the village, even if that was what she wanted. He didn't even have a chance to tell her where he had found the flowers for his bouquets. 

"I suppose I'll forgive you this time," she said, a sly smile on her lips that had Harry's own lips blooming, "But next time, I won't be so lenient." 

"I appreciate your grace, my lady," he played along, offering her that dazzling smile and dimpled cheeks. "I promise to see you soon. I feel like I'll need to visit the apothecary sooner rather than later." 

(Y/N) could take that promise. "I will make sure we stay stocked, then." 

"Until next time," Harry said, inching away from the carriage with reluctant steps deeper into the shadows.

"Until next time." 

With that, Harry closed the door to the coach, relaying the destination to the driver. 

With her hands in her lap and heart bubbling in her chest, (Y/N) allowed her cheeks to split with her smile. Definitely better than any kind of daydream her cloudy head had come up with.

—————

As soon as she approached the church, (Y/N) was grateful for the instructions she had given to the coachmen to drop her at the edge of the village, leaving her to be the only one who had seen the carriage at all. As she had suspected, her father really had rallied every able body in the town. She could only imagine she had caught them right before they started combing the woods and terrorizing the neighboring villages until they found her. 

It was Margret who had seen her first, breaking down into tears with a bursting sob before she was running towards (Y/N).

"Where have you been?!" she screamed, collapsing around (Y/N) in a steely hug, "I—We—Everyone thought you were—" 

Margret didn't have to finish her words for (Y/N) to know what had been on the village's mind. 

Before she had a chance to do anything more than reciprocate the hug and draw a breath, her father was barreling over. "(Y/N)!" he shouted, a mix of relief and anger tinting his tone. She doubted he even knew how to feel in that moment. 

"I'm sorry, Margret," (Y/N) muttered, offering a consoling smile before pulling away from her hug. The Wayfields stepped forward to collect their daughter while (Y/N) went towards her father, already dreading the lecture she would receive. "Father, I—" 

The air was stolen from her lungs the second he scooped her into a tight hug. "My daughter," he murmured into her hair, nestling her against his chest, "I thought the worst." 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, aware of the eyes watching their embrace. 

"What happened?" he asked, pulling away to face her with watery eyes and warm cheeks, "Why didn't you stay with Margret and her family? They said you went through the storm alone, promising to come back home." 

(Y/N) felt immense floods of guilt bubble through her system. This wasn't the welcome home she had thought she'd garner. 

"I hadn't meant to frighten anyone," she started, hoping the rest of the village overheard, "I only wanted a minute alone, but I was planning on coming home right away. But, the storm was so heavy, and I scared myself. I was disoriented and ended up a village over. I stayed in their church for the night, until it was safe to come home." 

The lie slipped off her tongue like water, the story planned from her time in the carriage. Her guilt only worsened knowing she was deceiving her father, but she didn't want anyone to know where she had spent the night. Despite the impropriety of the whole thing situation Harry, she didn't want Mary and Ethel chattering to her father that the Count was trying to steal away his daughter and flay her before dropping her in the forest. 

She didn't want Harry to be dragged into this. 

His features tightened at her words, but she could see as he ultimately accepted them. "Okay," he relented before flexing his arms around her in a pulsing hug, "Never again, (Y/N). Do you hear me?" 

"I hear you," she promised, holding him back just as tightly. 

Over his shoulder, she could see the gleaming of a black carriage ascending the trail towards the large castle in the distance.

—————

oleander, if consumed, can slow the heart and cause death within hours.

ahhhhhh! super super super different for myself ngl! I changed a couple of ideas I had just bc I started scaring myself but thank you so much for reading! im so happy im finally putting out a halloween fic! so sorry for any mistakes and if theres any ideas or thoughts please send them in!

h being pussy drunk with y/n

i think i did this right, idk. sorry if i didn’t😭😭😭

~

Harry’s jaw is dropped as he sinks his cock into YN in missionary, a deep groan bubbling in his chest as he sheathes himself inside of her tight hole. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of her, watching hers roll back into her head with each inch he gives her.

His thick cock is stretching her so much she can barely think, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his torso to pull him closer to her. The moan she lets out is almost pornographic, the feeling of him inside of her nearly too much.

The angle is so fucking good, a thick on his cock hitting her g-spot in the most delicious way possible. She didn’t know that pleasure like this even existed, not until she met Harry.

Each time they have sex is just like the first time; he stretches her to a point of slight pain and pounds into her until she can’t breathe. She doesn’t mind, though. She can’t. Not when he fucks her so good that she leaves a thick ring of her cream around him mere minutes after he buries himself inside of her.

This time is no different, and the second she’s adjusted to the thickness of him, he’s pulling out and slamming his hips right back against hers. A choked moan falls from her lips at the feeling, her body jerking up toward the headboard from the force.

He reaches down and grips at her hips, pulling her right back toward him as he forces her onto his cock. The pull is so hard that the head of his cock kisses her cervix, making her cry out and squirm in slight discomfort.

A small hiss leaves his lips at the look of discomfort on her face, pulling back slightly to give her some relief from the pain. He keeps his eyes locked on her face, and when she looks at him and nods, he picks up right where he left off, thrusting a bit more shallow than he did the first time.

The small change has her whining in pleasure, scratching her nails down his back as he fucks into her desperately. No words are being exchanged, just pure bliss and pleasure radiating from the both of them, their orgasms steadily approaching.

She’s so close to cumming, squeezing down onto him and making him groan at how tight she gets, leaning down to bury his face in her neck as he twitches inside of her. He’s trying so hard to stave off his orgasm for even a little bit longer, anything to keep his cock inside of her and feeling this way.

Reaching down between them, he thumbs at her clit to get her there faster, quick and precise movements right on the most sensitive spot. The feeling combined with his cock sends her flying over the edge suddenly with an animalistic cry leaving her lips, and she locks down on him so tightly that he can’t hold off any longer.

With a death grip on her hips, he stills inside of her and cries out loudly as his orgasm wracks his body, legs shaking and toes digging into the duvet. His eyes have taken purchase in the back of his head as his cum shoots from the head of his cock and deep into her womb, wordless babbles leaving his lips at the overwhelming feeling.

Her nails are deep in the skin of his back as he cums right against her cervix, warming her from the inside. Heavy pants are leaving both of them, their chests heaving as they come down from their orgasms. Tears are streaming down both of their faces with such raw pleasure and intimacy as he stays buried deep inside of her.

When they’re both down, Harry pulls out of her slowly with a hiss, and YN thinks it’s over, her head falling back onto the pillow as she starts slipping out of consciousness. She sort of registers Harry moving on the bed, but her eyes are flying open as she realizes he’s spreading her legs and lying down. Before she can even begin to speak, she’s cut off by a moan as she feels his tongue swipe through her messy folds.

She doesn’t even have the energy to hold onto his hair, forcing her to lie there and take the pleasure no matter how overstimulated she is. She’s barely able to lift her head up to peek down at him, and she’s crying out in pleasure when she sees his eyes closed and his head resting on her thigh as he lazily sucks on her clit.

Both of them are basically unconscious, but Harry’s determined to pull another orgasm from her before he can rest, and he does just that. He keeps sucking on her clit as she twitches from the overstimulation. She can’t even speak, not even to warn him that her orgasm approaching, and when Harry hears her breath hitch and a broken sob leave her lips, he knows she came.

That and the fact that she squirted all over his face before going limp against the bed once more, exhaustion taking over her entirely. He continues to lick at her until he’s satisfied, cleaning her up with his tongue before climbing up the bed and pulling the blankets over them. Wrapping his arms around her, he falls asleep right along with her.

They’ll clean up tomorrow.

~

Roommate!Harry fingering YN while she reads to him*

warnings: fingering, smut, dirty talk, squirting, unprotected sex, breeding kiki, dumbification

~

YN was sitting in the center of her and Harry’s bed, reading a new book she’d picked up recently, it was called ‘Mourning wood’ and she was really enjoying. Just as she’d gotten to the New Year’s Eve part, where they ended up fucking all night. She was starting to get hot and bothered as the scene progressed.

As soon as she was going to turn the page, she looks up to see Harry entering their bedroom with a sly smile on his face. He could see from the door how she was clenching her thighs together and knew exactly what was happening.

YN gives him a small smile and looks back down at her book to continue, but he starts to climb onto the bed, slipping behind YN and starting to rub her shoulders.

“Read to me, love” he says, and she furrows her eyebrows? his request a bit odd, but she does so anyways.

Starting to read, she feels his hands slowly start moving down her body. They stop at her belly, rubbing soft circles all over, making YN relax into him as she continues.

Turning the page, YN continues to read the smut scene to Harry as he keeps rubbing her body. He takes the opportunity to slide his hands underneath her shirt, groaning when he finds her breasts bare. He palms them softly, knowing they are so sensitive on her. He tweaks them gently, pulling softly and letting them go before moving his hands down to her panties.

He slips his hand under, hissing when his fingers reach the wet warmth that sits between her soft folds. He rubs a finger up them slowly, stopping to rub gentle circles at her throbbing clit. She moans as she stops reading, but Harry doesn’t want that.

“Keep reading, baby” he warns, leaning down to suck marks onto her neck, her head falling back against his shoulder. She takes a deep breath and continues, trying not to stutter too much. He takes a finger and slides it down to her clenching hole, smirking against her neck when he lets out a loud moan in between words.

Sinking his finger into her hole, he instantly crooks it upward so that it can graze her g-spot, catching her off guard and she drops her book onto the bed, spreading her legs. Harry reaches around her and grabs the book, moving it out the way, continuing to pound his fingers into her and she leans back against him, letting him abuse her hole.

“You like that, baby? Does it feel good? Do my fingers feel nice in your tight little hole, baby?” he whispers in her ear, nipping it gently.

She can only nod, her hips bucking against his hand and making his palm rub against her clit. She’s moaning loudly, her hole clenching around his fingers.

“Fuck, Daddy. Just like that” she moans, grabbing his wrist as he just keeps pounding her, whispering dirty things in her ear.

He can feel her clenching around him, knowing she’s close. “Are you gonna cum, baby? I know, I can feel you squeezing me. All you have to do is cum, hm? Then Daddy’s gonna fill you up, give you his babies. You want that, baby?” he asks, and all she can do is nod.

Chuckling directly into her ear, Harry grits his teeth. “My dumb little baby. Cant even get her words out. All she can do is cum. Is that all you’re good for, honey?” he asks, and she nods, making him laugh condescendingly. “Only good for taking things up your little hole. Can barely think on your own, hm? Well that’s okay, baby. Daddy’s gonna give you just what you need. Gonna fuck you so deep you’ll have no choice but to fill that dumb brain of yours with thoughts of me” he says, and that sends her over the edge.

“Daddy, I’m cumming!” she yells, clenching around him. Her eyes roll back, and she squirts all over his hand, soaking her panties and the bed beneath her. Harry’s in her ear, encouraging her every step of the way. “Just like that, baby. Cum for Daddy and he’ll give you what you need”

He keeps his fingers deep inside of her until she comes down, trying to catch her breath. Before she can even move, he’s shoving her forward and pushing her head into the bed.

He yanks her panties down and quickly pulls his cock out of his boxers. Giving her no warning, he slides all the way into her, making her eyes roll back as he grazes her g-spot. He gives her time to adjust, and when her hole relaxes around him, he pulls all the way out until just his tip is at her entrance.

Taking her completely by surprise, he slams even deeper than he was before, making her scream out. He does it over and over, his speed picking up with each thrust.

She’s babbling wordlessly, her jaw dropped as drool leaks from her open mouth.

“Aw, does that feel good, baby?” he asks, but she can’t respond. “I know, just my little cockdrunk whore aren’t you? Nothing in that dumb little brain of yours” he grunts, going impossibly harder.

Her slick is leaking all over the bed, her thighs sticky with her first release and the cream that coats his cock with each thrust.

“Fuck, baby. You’re just creaming all over me” he moans, eyes shutting as pleasure wracks through his body with each clench of her cunt.

That sends her over the edge, a silent scream on her face as she clenches so tight around him he can barely move. He has to hold still so that he doesn’t explode inside her just yet. He needs her to cum one more time, her cunt needs to milk the cum from his throbbing shaft. He flips her over so that she his on her back, leaning down to slip back inside of her.

In this position, he’s ramming her g-spot with every thrust, and she’s unable to do anything but moan and clench her eyes shut. The only sounds filing the room are the sounds of their skin colliding with each thrust and their moans. They’re both so close, his cock twitching and her hole quivering around his cock.

He thrusts two more times, and she cums unexpectedly, throwing him over the edge as well. He’s groaning in her ear, the stimulation to her cunt making her scream with every thrust, and when he buries himself to the hilt as his cum starts shooting from his tip, she’s unable to stop shaking.

Once he’s down, he’s pulling out gently, the both of them letting out small whines at the loss of contact between them. He spreads her legs further, looking down to her abused hole and seeing his copious amounts of cum escaping the hole.

His cock twitches as he gets hard once more, and YN can see the action from the corner of her eye. They both know it’s going to be a long night.

~

@elenagilbert01 @michellekstyles @victoria-styles @gublerscherry @haroldshitties @harrysficreblog @tenaciousperfectionunknown @milfrrynation @styles-weasley

~

Hope you enjoy, babies!!!! Drop any requests you have before 04/08 if you want it written ASAP!!!! Love you all🤍

Istg this is one of the best one shots ever !! I would literally marry it love it soooo much !!! 💗

Failed, Faked, Fallen - Harry Styles

a/n: this story was a pain in the ass, not gonna lie and i really thought i would just end up deleting the whole thing but I MADE IT TO THE END YAY so now please take the time to read bc it literally made me want to jump off a cliff lol

special thanks to @pastequeharry​ for putting up with me throught the writing process, she is the reason i didn’t just delete the whole thing haha

pairing: Fratboy!Harry x Reader (fake dating AU)

word count: 16.6k

masterlist

Tonight has been in the making for ten years. Every fiber in your body is protesting against it, but you just can’t carry this massive secret around any longer. You need to tell your best friend that you are in love with him, have been since middle school when you first met him. It’s a scary thing to come clean about your feelings for someone, but you feel like it’s now or never.

Your friendship with Oliver has been always a little… blurry. You were just regular friends when he was dating someone, but whenever he was single, he seemed to seek comfort and intimacy with you. It always starts with him getting a little more touchy and cuddly with you, then comes the kissing and hugging, his hands wandering to places friends shouldn’t explore and you somehow always end up in a bed…  

Then it would immediately change once he got himself a girlfriend and you figured he has just been confused about his feelings for you. It has to be that, right? These past few weeks the situation was the same. He broke up with this girl he was seeing all summer before you all came back to school and you think this is the perfect time to finally talk about what’s really going on between the two of you.

Keep reading

My faves f1 and Harry in one story I’m here for this and I LOVE it !!💗💗

Keep Driving | H.S

Meet Formula 1 Harry

He knows he shouldn't be thinking about this. His mind is should be completely on the race. His mind on the course but he has almost two hours of this ahead of him. He can't stop his mind from wandering to her.

"You better not be wasting my fucking time," Harry says was he walks through McLaren's headquarters.

"Don't you think you're being kind of unreasonable, Styles?" Jeff Azoff, McLaren's Team Principal, quips.

"I lost in Silverstone because of a malfunction. It's not happening next this year.”

"You know the race was important to McLaren too.”

"I don't give a fuck! I won't be embarrassed in my own country again."

"Maybe this will give you some hope," Azoff opens the door to lab with flourish. There, on display, is one of the most beautiful engines Harry has ever seen. He's mesmerized by the working parts. It seems alive, drumming like a horse, then mechanical, a symphony of technology and mathematics. Azoff sees the intrigue on Harry's features and smiles, "This can keep you from leaving us next season."

A door opens from the other side of the garage and a girl strides in wearing a McLaren sweatshirt, head buried in papers. She bumps into table and apologizes with a small sorry. To. The. Table. She's alerted by Harry's chuckle.

"Oh," she says when she notices her boss and the champion racer of her team her sacred garage. "Hi."

Azoff wraps an arm around her, "And this is one of our new chief engineers, Y/n Lane." Harry holds his hand out to make an introduction. Y/n's hand shoots out and Harry looks down at it, amused. It's a few seconds later when she realizes she extended the wrong hand. To avoid further embarrassment she curls her fingers in to fist bump. She's mortified when she realizes she's only made it more awkward.

This one of coolest men in the world, 6 time Formula 1 World Champion and she just gave him a fist bump like one of the little kids he meets. It only gets worse when Jeff decided to leave her alone with Harry. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted."

"But uh, uh," she stutters, clearly uncomfortable, "I have specs to go over with you."

"We can go over them later," Jeff pats her back and saunters off. The door closes with finality. Y/n is quick to go back to her papers and her engine. Harry is quick to break the silence, "So what has you working in the engineering lab at McLaren?"

She pauses, her focus falling from the engine piston. "I worked at NASA as an aerospace engineer and they poached me." A rocket scientist. Literally.

"NASA! A big jump to Formula 1." Harry sounds impressed but she gives a quick glance with a nod, acknowledging his comments. He presses, "Why F1?"

"They pay a lot," she says matter of factly, searching for something.

“Is that all?” He questions, trailing her through the lab.

Her attention turns back to him when she finds what she's looking for. "I like those fast and furious movies enough.” Harry clamps his jaw down so it doesn't drop to the floor. Those movies are a joke.

Harry shakes his head, “Ludicrous.”

"Yeah, he was in it!"

His mind should be totally on the track. His mind should be focused on every turn in Monza but he's on autopilot, trusting his mental map to guide him. He should be thinking about the present but his mind exist in the past.

Harry's just finished washing the sweat and champagne out of his hair when he hears knocking on his door. He quickly pulls on his briefs and opens the door expecting members from the team congratulating him for his win at Monza, the 8th one of the season.

He's already turning down booze when he opens the door. His mouth clamps closed when he's greeted by the eccentric engineer he met last week in a Darth Vader pajama set. His eyebrow quirks up, "So you went to work with NASA because of Star Wars?" She stares blankly at him, unamused by his quip. He clears his throat, "What do you need?"

"It's long story," she squirms under his gaze, "but I need to get in your bed."

"Uh," Harry pauses, yes, she's cute but he can't just go around sleeping with every cute girl he meets. Imagine the infections he would have; his junk itches just thinking about it. He doesn't do casual hookups.

She's already imposed himself in his room by the time he stops thinking about making an exception to his rule. This girl who said sorry to a table is now suddenly stubborn. "My mattress sucks."

"So you knocked on my door rather than calling hotel management?"

"It's late and I have a flight to Russia tomorrow morning without the luxury of a private plane." She says opening and closing doors in his suite, "gosh, this place is big."

Harry muses that she must be delusional from the lack of sleep and walks to the bedroom door, opening it for her. "Why can't you sleep in your own bed?"

“There’s lumps in my mattress and I can’t sleep if I feel something under me." She strips the bed of its linen and sits down, bouncing a little and checking for lumps. Harry moves over to help her with the pillows, not yet implying that he wants her to leave.

“Like that children’s story? Princess and the Pea?”

“Yeah, something like that," she settles into the bed with a deep satisfied sigh and he smiles at her.

"Well, that's not a long story at all."

He's pulling his socks on and his body shudders when he gets flashes of doing this in the future, next to her, the domestic act of preparing for bed. "Goodnight, princess." He says and that feels familiar, too.

He’s missed the apex for a turn. It's too late. He'll have to make up for it later. With a couple laps left he can tell this is not going to be his best race. Nothing like his race in Silverstone two years ago. His mind attempts to focus on the checkered flag.

"Yes! Yes!" Harry cheers as he streams past the finish line. He can hear his team roaring in the radio and his fans screaming in the stands. "That was a good one boys! Thank you.”

A small voice on his radio says, “And girl.” She's right. The engine that is coming to a stop is one she designed.

He smiles under his helmet, “Yes, my girl. Thank you, princess." Harry's showered in the champagne and presents his trophy to his country. This is the first time McLaren, a British team, has won the British Grand Prix in years and he gave it to them. He holds his flag high, the whole country screaming for him.

When he sees her, looking over the car, despite their win, he can tell she knows ways for them to improve. He thanks everyone on his team before time stops moving so fast and she looks up and catches his eye.

"My girl!" He takes her hand and spins her around.

"Your one and only," she smiles, the only girl on the head engineer team. As he smiles down at her the rest of he team is painfully aware of Styles' crush.

"I'd like to take you out."

"Yeah, the team is going out tonight. I think we are pub hopping," her smile is so bright, "I-for one-- think all of our drinks will be free."

"No, I want to take you to a nice restaurant. Not on a shitty pub crawl. A date." He says more nervous than when he started the race.

"Oh," she says her lips curving in. Styles crush was obvious to everyone except himself and the girl he was pinning over. With her acceptance, their world begins.

She discovers not everything about him is speed. Off the track, Harry likes to live his life slowly, tenderly. He reads books that require deep thought. He takes long, long walks, preferring to stay off wheels in his spare time. He explores restaurants, savors food, asks questions, patiently waits for others to string together answers not in their native language. He makes love slowly.

The familiar adrenaline of moving 350 kilometers per hour is coursing through his veins. He's so close to the finish line. His heart rate should pick up when he thinks of the massive push he's going to have in his last lap. But tonight he is nervous for an entirely different reason.

He throws down his helmet, running to his girl once the race is over. She smiles because his grin in infectious, “You’re smiling real hard for someone who just lost the Italian Grand Prix.”

"I made podium; that's good enough."

"Good enough?," she crosses her arms, eyebrow rising, "Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?"

He picks her up, twirling her in the air. “I win everyday because of I have you.”

She hits his shoulder as he lets her down, “Shut up you sap!”

“I have a dinner for us planned.”

“You’re not going to go out with the team?”

“They are going to get sad drunk. We are going to get happy drunk.”

“But aren’t you just a little bummed?”

“There are other races, there aren’t other yous." He cups her face gently, "Look at those eyes.”

Her eyes reflect in his green, their relationship has always had the element to make time slow. She snaps out of it and shakes her head, "What?"

Just then team Ferrari starts singing. Their heads snap to watch their continued celebration. "They needed it more than me."

She whispers, almost conspiratorially, "But we hate Ferrari. I, for one, never want to see them happy. Freaking tampons."

"It's okay," Harry links his pinky through hers, "but I'm going to kick Ferrari's ass in Imola." Their cheering crescendos so Harry raises his voice. "Embarrass them on the track they fucking built!"

He refocuses his attention on her, his grin returning.

“You need to look a bit sad. If they see that you don’t care about losing, they might replace you.”

“With who? Tell me who’s better.”

“Well,” she glances at the leaderboard.

“Don’t even say it.”

“There are people who want to see you,” she says motioning to reporters.

“Look sad!” She yells as he walks away. He turns and pouts dramatically before running off.

She pats her stomach as they walk through the streets of Italy, "That was some good pasta."

He shakes his head laughing, "We're in Italy."

"Yeah, but every time I get pasta here it's americanized. I don't know how you find these restaurants."

"I asked Leclerc."

Her brows furrow, "Leclerc isn't from Italy."

"He's from everywhere."

"But this restaurant was legit."

"And yet you still asked the waitress if there was fettuccine alfredo."

"It was a test! What slur do you think she called me in Italian?"

Harry knows but he doesn't want to tell her. It might ruin her night. Instead, he opens the door to their destination. As they are going up in the elevator she wraps her arms around Harry's neck. "You know this is the same hotel where I barged into your suite."

"Yeah," he smiles fondly, "I think I booked that same one."

"They let someone who got third place have the presidential suite," she teases with a smirk.

His jaw ticks, "I got it from Leclerc."

"What did you do? Beat him up?" She chuckles, kissing his frown before glancing at the elevator panel, "Well we were supposed to get off this elevator three floors ago."

The elevator pings and he leads her out, shrugging off his sports coat and giving it to her. "Thanks?" She accepts the jacket with quirked brow. He leads her through the roof entrance.

When the wind hits her, she holds the coat tighter. She gasps running to edge of the roof, "It's nice that they don't have the lights on up here. There's no light pollution, you can see everything."

Harry nods, arms encircling her.

"The city's so beautiful."

He looks down at her, "you look so beautiful." They stand in silence for a while before the lights that line the rooftop turn on. She sighs, "That was nice while it lasted." Harry steps away from her, she turns to comfort him, noticing how off he has been acting. He's not used to losing.

Her eyes shimmer under the lights of the roof, electric candles are placed strategically. It takes a couple of moments before she realizes that Harry has disappeared from her line of sight, it takes another couple moments for her to realize Harry's still in front of her. His height has been diminished because he's on his knees. One knee.

Her hand immediately flies to her mouth. She's speechless but he makes up for it.

“The day I met you I knew I would be in your life for the rest of mine. My job is nothing but adrenaline but I have never felt as high as when I’m in your arms. Will you marry me?”

"Yes."

Full Disclosure: I was not in love with MLB!Harry (especially the one I wrote) I felt like I was stealing a concept. When it didn't do well I wanted to move on. There was so much uncertainty around the MLB!Harry universe. This felt so much better. IM IN LOVE with this concept so show F1 Harry some love.

EUPHORIA AU MASTERLIST

MY FULL MASTERLIST

dealer!harry x jacobs!reader - y/n jacobs has been dating dealer harry styles since freshman year. her brother nate despises her boyfriend and will try anything to break them up.

PLAYLIST

HARRY’S BACKSTORY

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

PART SEVEN

Soooo good

BLACK&WHITE - masterpost

PAIRING: long hair college!Harry X Mitch's little sister!Reader

WHAT IT'S ABOUT: Starting college doesn't turn out as easy as you expected. Making friends turned out to be a way too hard task for you, so you ask your brother's, Mitch's girlfriend, Sarah to help you socialize. Taking you to a frat party, you run into Mitch's long time best friend, the guy you've always had a crush on but haven't seen in years, Harry Styles. The reunion is shocking, especially because Harry is slowly realizing that you're not the awkward little teenager he remembers from the last time he saw you. He has a reputation he is trying to get rid of, old habits to lose, but no one seems to believe he can change, not even his own best friends who warns him to keep his distance from you, however it appears to be easier said than done.

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 31k

🖤 Part One

🖤 Part Two

🖤 Part Three

🖤 Part Four

🖤 Part Five

🖤 Part Six

🖤 Part Seven

COMPLETED: 2021.11.07.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

PAIRING: Royal!Harry X Maid!Reader

WHAT IT’S ABOUT: Prince Harry is set to take the throne of Eroda in just one short month. There's a lot to do and handle before he becomes king and he plans to focus fully on his royal duties upon returning to his home. However he didn't plan to meet a young maid who is never afraid to stand her ground and even talk back to him with no care about his title or class. And most importantly, he didn't plan to fall for said maid, especially after the circumstances of their first meeting.

👑 PART ONE

👑PART TWO

👑PART THREE

👑PART FOUR

👑PART FIVE (coming soon)

sunflowerkissess masterlist

Hi! Welcome to my blog! I write primarily for Harry Styles: I’ve been a fan of his since 2019 when I saw him on SNL. I’d like to keep my works on here only and now on wattpad. And I don’t give permission for anyone to repost any of my work on any other website! And please reblog not only my work but other’s as well since we write for free, and it gets work spread around!

Enjoy!

* - indicates smut 

Harry Styles 

One Shots:

mateo, harry, and y/n one shots: not in chronological order

poor sick baby - mateo gets sick and harry has to take care of him until y/n gets home from work (year based in 2019)

car sick - being on the road for indio for coachella seems to take a toll on little mateo, causing his parents to be concerned (year based in 2022)

one angry voicemail -  mateo left harry an angry voicemail for not answering his nightly routine of calling harry before he went to bed, giving harry the thing that was missing for one of his songs in his new album (year based in 2020 & 2021)

alone time * - a three year old mateo spends the night at anne’s house so harry and y/n can have a date night for themselves (year based in 2018)

just like daddy | coachella weekend two - just cute moments backstage before harry goes on stage for coachella weekend two 

terrible twos - after harry finished his first world tour. y/n, him, and a two year old mateo go to cabo for james corden’s birthday. however, it’s not easy when there’s a two year old who throws a fit when he doesn’t get his way

Series: coming soon

livin’ in a daydream - bridgerton au (coming soon)

series summary - y/n bridgerton and prince harry never got along from the day he thought she needed help when she clearly didn’t, and he didn’t like how hardheaded she was. the two of them were always at each other’s throat ever since they were little. but what happens when that hatred turns into sexual tension?

Season 1

| Diamond of the First Water | Shock and Delight | Art of the Swoon |An Affair of Honor | The Duke and I | Swish | Oceans Apart | After the Rain |

Season 2

| Capital R Rake | Off to the Races | A Bee in Your Bonnet | Victory | An Unthinkable Fate | The Choice | Harmony | The Viscount Who Loved Me |

just pretend to like each other (coming soon)

series summary - y/n’s best friend, analeigh is getting married to her fiancé everett. y/n is analeigh’s maid of honor, of fucking course, and everett’s best man is someone she thought she’d never see again… harry styles 

one difficult case, one infuriating person (coming soon)

series summary - while y/n loved working at evergreen law firm and got along with everyone she worked with. as well with those she worked cases with. amazingly well, just so you know. but there was one person she despised the most at her place of work: the charming, charismatic, and handsome harry styles. the two of them are at each other’s throats twenty-four-seven. but what happens when they’re put on a case together? 

the detective and his sweet honey (coming soon)

series summary - harry is a detective who frequents a local bakery owned by a shy woman named y/n. y/n is a sweetheart, a sweetheart sweet as honey. 

a kiss from a fallen rose (coming soon) 

series summary - y/n is a single mother of a little girl named beatrice. and harry is beatrice’s kindergarten teacher, who has a crush on y/n. 

Stranger Things 

Steve Harrington

Series - coming soon

not as close as we were before (coming soon)

series summary - 

Season 1

| The Vanishing of Will Byers | The Weirdo on Maple Street | Holly, Jolly | The Body | The Flea and the Acrobat | The Monster | The Bathtub | The Upside Down |

Season 2 - The Lost Sister will be not written as it is just an episode around Eleven with 008. 

| Mad Max | Trick or Treat, Freak | The Pollywog | Will the Wise | Dig Dug | The Spy | The Mind Flayer | The Gate |

Season 3

| Suzie, Do You Copy?  | The Mall Rats | The Case of the Missing Lifeguard | The Sauna Test | The Flayed | E Pluribus Unum | The Bite | The Battle of Starcourt |

Season 4

| The Hellfire Club | Vecna’s Curse | The Monster and the Superhero | Dear Billy | The Nina Project | The Dive |The Massacre at Hawkins Lab | Papa | The Piggyback |

The Rich Series H.S

Synopsis: 

Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.

Warnings: This is an agegap romance, if you don't like it don't read it. MC is 22ish and H is 38/39. Other warnings include smut that features dirty talk, choking, spanking, anal, daddy kink etc. Specific warnings will be written at the start of each part.

Masterlist:

Part 1 The hookup that starts it all

Part 2 The morning after and their weekly dinner. Terms are set and a relationship forms.

Part 3 Harry and y/n run into each other on a night out and an argument begins

Part 4 It's Harry's birthday dinner but food isn't what gets eaten...

Part 5 It's Harry's birthday party and the couple manages to break their once-a-week rule yet again

Part 6 The aftermath of Harry's birthday leaves the pair feeling all kinds of emotions. Harry also discovers how soon y/n returns to university, but an honest conversation and a little fun in the pool solve everything.

Part 7 Harry plans something special for the second last dinner that involves a bluetooth activated toy. The couple takes a bath and goes for dessert that involves some carpool karaoke and ice cream.

Part 8 Phone sex, lunch and an interesting visit to a certain shop.

Part 9 Where y/n and Harry have a confrontation and you get an insight into the people trying to pull them apart.

- Find my General Masterlist here -

Complicated Freak H.S

Summary: Where you've been hooking up with your best friend's dad and decide to tease him with a tiny bikini. Based on this request that I got! I did change it a bit so I hope you don't mind :)

Warning: smut!!, penetration, face slapping, spanking, spitting, dirty talk including degradation and a breeding kink. He is mean in this so if that isn't your thing, please don't read.

Word count: 6.5k

Author’s note: I'm genuinely surprised at how fast I was able to write something to get out to you all, but I'm so happy with how this turned out! It also means I'll be able to write something else before I do another Richrry update which is exciting 🤭. He's mean so pls be prepared and I hope you enjoy!

Read Part 2 Here

- Find my General Masterlist here -

Summer didn’t feel like Summer without the Styles family’s pool. Being invited over for sleepovers and weekends at a time and spending time with your childhood best friend like you were kids was an integral part of your childhood and it never stopped even as you became adults. You and Darcy would spend the entire day in the pool swimming or beside it tanning, then go inside and be greeted by gin and tonics and some gourmet vegan dish made by her dad.

Of course, when you were younger he’d offer orange juice or mocktails to make you both feel special. Then as you got older it turned into the cocktail he had a liking to that particular month, or whatever Darcy requested.

He’d dote on the two of you and bring you out drinks and fruit platters, anything Darcy wished for. Ever since Darcy’s mum walked out on her and Harry for some other man a couple years back, Harry has done anything and everything to try and make up for it. He only wanted to make Darcy happy, that was now his sole purpose in life.

His job was well paying, which was lucky since Darcy decided to milk her suffering and want to go on expensive trips and buy designer goods all the time. And each and every time Harry would give in and get her what she wanted. Because he loved her, and he’d sell his soul if it meant he didn’t have to see that glint of sadness in her eyes.

Poor Harry was naïve to who Darcy was. Yes, she was sad, but she was also angry 90% of the time and one of the most manipulative people you had ever met.

Now, Darcy wasn’t a child, and neither were you, but with severe mummy issues and a raging coke addiction she definitely acted like one. And for good reason too. If your mum walked out on you and destroyed your entire life you’d also go on a bender. If your daddy was rich, you’d also be asking for Gucci sunglasses and a yacht trip around the Italian coast ‘because you were sad’.

You loved her for it though. Her craziness and slight bratiness was something you got used to when you were young, and something you had come to adore as you got older. It was a nice balance, the two of you. You were a lot calmer and acted like a voice of reason for her, preventing her from pulling some crazy stunt that would only cause tension between her and Harry, and she brought you out of your shell and helped you be brave and reckless (within reason).

Her mum left when you both were 19, which caused a spiral in Darcy’s life and made her defer university for the year, giving her more time to milk Harry’s affection and his own suffering. It came as a shock to everyone who knew the family, because from an outside perspective they seemed like a happy couple. Harry doted on his wife and she in return. They did family trips together and Sunday lunches with your family and other mutual friends you had grown up with.

They seemed happy. In love.

You, however, knew the inside perspective. While Harry loved and doted on his wife, she had been fucking her boss for six months behind his back. Darcy walked in on them and caught them in the act and immediately ratted her out to Harry, taking his side and support in the whole ordeal. Darcy was manipulative, but she also loved her dad, and she would’ve rather gouged her eyes out than ever show support to her mother.

Harry was absolutely heart broken, as you’d expect. But despite that, he still loved his wife, and he wanted to make the marriage work. Harry Styles, the gorgeous British man who deserved every good thing in the entire world, sacrificed himself and ignored his own heartache to go to couple’s therapy and work out their issues.

In the end though, it wasn’t enough, because his wife was never going to be happy with the perfect man that Harry was. Even after couples therapy and holidays and focusing on Darcy instead of each other, she still wasn’t satisfied.

So, she left, walked out on both Harry and Darcy without any apology and a pitiful excuse of ‘I need to go find myself and be happy’.

God you fucking hated that woman. The rage you felt after seeing Harry heartbroken and crying and still trying to make the marriage work was indescribable, and in that moment, you just wanted to pull a Darcy and knock the woman out.

Even now, nearly two years later, the mere thought of that lady made you scream.

You made sure you were there to give support to Darcy and Harry whenever they needed it, in whatever way they needed it. For Darcy that meant being her clubbing buddy or simply being at her house most days just to keep her company, which you pretty much did before her mum left.

And for Harry, well… if there was one thing to say about Harry, it was that he wasn’t the sweet selfless man he usually is when it comes to fucking your brains out. He was demanding, rough and could get you on your knees with just a look and little tick of his jaw.

You didn’t know how it started to be honest, sleeping with your best friend’s dad.

There was this one night where Darcy had invited you over to hang out then when you got there, she was nowhere to be found. Apparently, she left to go hook up with her ex and completely forgot to tell you not to come anymore. That was the truth that she told you when you grilled her about it later, but when Harry answered the door with that cute sad confused look on his face his explanation was that she was ‘on a date’.

He still let you in, feeling bad that you drove all that way (only a 15-minute drive from your house, in reality) and made you a plate of the delicious dinner he cooked.

You knew Harry well and was comfortable around him. Aside from the fact that you had fantasised about him since you knew what attraction even was and became proper cock hungry for him, your relationship was friendly. He had always just been in your life and never ever did anything to make you feel weird or make it seem like he had interest in you beyond his daughter’s best friend.

But something changed that night. It could’ve been the bottle of wine you shared, or the fact that you two had never been alone in a room long enough for any mutual attraction to show. But one minute he was asking you how your dating life was going, an innocent question since you forever complained about being unable to find a decent man anywhere, and the next he was kissing you. Before you knew it your clothes were thrown across the living room and he was fucking you on his couch.

Since that day the two of you were having sex at any opportunity and Harry was using you to get his pent-up frustrations out. Your sex wasn’t romantic or sweet. It was a series of secret rushed hook-ups or rough fucks from behind because he didn’t want to see your face and be reminded of the fact that he would ruin his daughter’s life all over again if she ever found out about you.

He got his sadness of his divorce and betrayal out in therapy, then he got the anger out on you. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

At first it was just here and there, since it was new and you were both scared about Darcy finding out. He’d invite you over when she went out or was overnight somewhere and you’d have sex all night, or he’d call you in the middle of the night because he was out the front of your house and he’d drive you to some carpark or lookout and you’d ride him in his car.

Then, when you got comfortable it started happening while Darcy was in the house. You’d sneak into his room once Darcy was asleep and beg him to fill you up with his cum, then you’d happily return to Darcy’s room and go to sleep full of it. Or he’d be the one to demand that you were in his bed the second she went to sleep.

It progressed further than that, which ended up producing some of the most reckless moments of your life. When she showered, he’d fuck you over the kitchen bench or drag you into a bathroom across the house. When she left the room, he’d sneak a kiss. When you two offered to make popcorn and hot drinks for a movie night, he’d pin you against a wall and finger you or get on his knees and eat you out.

It was bad, yet you couldn’t find any guilt for what you were doing. It felt good, too good to stop.

You had immense power over Harry, as did he over you. When you were horny, he came running, and when he was angry, you were on your knees with your mouth open for him. It was a good arrangement.

So, when you were invited for the first swim of the Summer, you had to take advantage of the opportunity. It had been a while since you had seen Harry or Darcy. You and Darcy went to different universities, and between exams and work you rarely left the house for anything else. Because of that, you had the longing for both your best friend’s company and her father’s cock.

It was sick, really. A sin in the eyes of God. And fuck did it go against every girl code in the universe. But for once in your life, you were allowing yourself to just live and do what you wanted without needing Darcy’s encouragement to do it. It felt like you were finally taking control… albeit in a really fucked up way.

Still, you were craving Harry’s touch so bad you couldn’t help but do something to push his buttons and guarantee that he’d be inside you at some point over the weekend. Under the guise of ‘wanting to tan’, you wore the skimpiest bikini you owned. It was a simple black string bikini that basically covered nipples and vagina and that was it. Your cleavage was perfect, and your ass was all the way out.

Darcy didn’t think anything of it when you took off your coverup to lay on the sunbed and was basically naked. Harry, however, got that gorgeous tick in his jaw and was staring at you like you were the most delicious piece of cake on the planet. His eyes went dark the second he saw you lying on the day bed beside the pool in the tiniest bikini he had ever seen in his life. His expression completely changed from the happy smile he once had as he came outside with a fruit platter he made for the two of you.

He tried to play it off and act like that same happy self as he set the fruit platter and some forks down on the table in between your day beds, but you could see the look he was giving you and the way his jaw was tensed.

Oh, you were in for it. He looked like he was about to fuck you so hard your back would break. That was exactly what you were craving.

“Thank you, Harry,” you smiled, sitting up cross legged and stabbing your fork into a piece of pineapple before popping it into your mouth. His eyes drew over your body, starting at the spot between your legs where your bikini was barely covering your pussy before going upwards to where your breasts were barely being held back by your top.

You were already wet just being in his presence, so you were sure there was a wet patch on the crotch of your bikini that he could clearly see from his position.

“Mmh, this is so fresh” you praised, drawing out the ‘mmh’ a little longer than necessary. You just couldn’t help it. Despite being in his 40s, Harry looked like the finest frat boy you had ever met and that slutty little tank top and backwards cap of his were doing unspeakable things to your hormones.

His eyes met yours and he smirked, knowing that he was about to get you in his house and make you beg him for mercy. So, you want to tease? Alright, then you’ll get a tease back.

“Well, I hope so. Got it fresh from the markets this morning. Have you tried the pineapple yet, Darce?” he asked his daughter, looking down at her seemingly sleeping figure. She was laid on her front, her arms crossed and acting like a pillow under her head. Her head was turned away from Harry and towards you, and you could see that her eyes were closed.

“I’ll try it later dad, just let me nap” she groaned, not bothering to open her eyes to look at him or thank him.

“Alright, dove. I’ll be inside if you need anything” he bent a little to pat her head affectionally then made eye contact with you again, flicking his head towards the house in a ‘follow me’ motion. He walked back into the house, and you watched him intently, his back muscles highlighted by the sunlight and from how tense he was after your little show.

Harry left the back door open on purpose and you noticed the little look he gave you over his shoulder. He was warning you. Without any words he was warning you to get in the house right that second before he withheld your orgasm or decided to spank your ass raw the next time you got some true privacy.

“I’m gonna pee and get some water, do you want anything?” you asked Darcy, getting up from your day bed.

“Maybe some silence so I can sleep peacefully” she grunted making you scoff and laugh.

“Bitch” you gave her a hard slap on her ass which made her yelp and flip you her middle finger, all without opening her eyes or moving her arms from their comfortable position. At least she’ll hardly notice that you’re gone since she wants to nap so badly.

You quickly walked into the house, looking back at Darcy just in case before closing the back door behind you. The house was cool and instantly soothed your hot skin, but you knew that cool sensation wouldn’t last very long. Harry was nowhere to be seen and he gave you no indication of where he’d be.

The house was quiet, so you decided to check out your usual spots downstairs before heading upstairs. The guest bathroom, laundry and butler’s pantry were all clear. You even checked his office and after that was clear you were just getting annoyed. For someone who seemed to want you in the house right away, he was really making you work for it.

You didn’t have a lot of time either, so all this playing around was just eating into the time that he could be inside of you.

You walked upstairs and started making a beeline towards his bedroom, thinking it was the obvious choice. However, on your way there a pair of hands darted out from the upstairs bathroom, Darcy’s bathroom, and dragged you in by the hips. You let out a little yelp before Harry’s ringed hand clamped over your mouth and he shut the door behind the two of you.

He locked it for good measure and pushed you against the vanity so your ass was pressed against it, his hand coming to wrap around your throat instead of your mouth.

“What’s this huh?” he hissed, plucking at the halter string of your bikini top. “Coming ‘round to my house dressed like a whore? Do you have no self-respect?”

Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head at his degradation and your clit was tingling like it had never been touched before. Harry had a way with words, and he could praise you and dote on you just as well as he could call you a dirty little whore. He had done both on many occasions depending on his mood, but it was clear he wasn’t feeling especially nice today.

“It’s a bikini. Don’t you like it?” you fluttered your lashes at him, biting your lip to try and hide the smile that emerged from teasing him. You were really just digging yourself into a deeper hole, but you couldn’t help it. Harry was easy to rile up.

“Oh you wanna be smart now, huh?” he rose a brow, using his other hand to squeeze the sides of your mouth and force it open while he simultaneously squeezed the sides of your neck to make that woozy feeling flood your brain. “Open.”

You opened your mouth wider, wincing at the pain from how hard he was squeezing your face. Harry collected spit in his mouth then spat it directly onto your tongue. You whimpered into the air and fisted his tank top as you kept his saliva pooled on your tongue, not daring to swallow until he gave you specific instructions to.

“Look at that. Fucking love it, don’t you?” he taunted, using two fingers to spread the saliva around your tongue as you nodded like an eager puppy, unable to talk as he dragged your tongue down. He chuckled and drew his hand back, quickly slapping your face with hard enough pressure to sting but not whip your head to the side.

You whined in the air, sticking your tongue out further and keeping it there since he hadn’t told you that you were allowed to swallow. Your thighs tensed together and it became embarrassingly clear how wet he made you just from a little dirty talk and a slap across your face. Your bikini barely covered your pussy, and the limited fabric was completely soaked through and getting nestled between your folds the more you tensed your thighs together.

“Feels good to be slapped around, doesn’t it?” you nodded, panting in the air out of desperation. He let out a mocking laugh and slapped you on the other side, his hand sliding up from your neck to grab your jaw and keep your face in place. The sting of the slap went straight to your clit, and your toes curled into the tiles. “Swallow.” His voice lowered and his fingers loosened on your face, turning into a soft caress that had your head reeling.

You swallowed immediately, “Yes. Please Harry, please”

“Use your words angel, can’t understand you when all you do is whine like a dumb baby” he pouted, “Bet you’re so fucking wet right now, aren’t you?” he couldn’t help but slide his spare hand between your bodies to your pussy, grazing his fingers against pebbled clit through the material and feeling how wet you were. “Guess I was right…”

You nodded again, trailing your hands down his chest to the bottom of his tank top as his hand flexed around your neck. “Fuck me, please Harry. Let me be good for you. Please” you begged, needing the image of him fucking you with that backwards cap on his head to become reality instead of just a fantasy.

“Turn around.” He deadpanned, spanking your pussy quickly while letting go of your neck so you could turn around to face the mirror. You gasped in pain and did as instructed; turning around to face the mirror instead of him. “Leg up.” He tapped your right leg to indicate which one he wanted propped up on the benchtop.

At this point you knew exactly how he liked to fuck you in a bathroom. Sometimes he liked it when you sat on top and had your legs wrapped around his hips, but when he really wanted to give it to you hard, he’d have you face the vanity and prop one knee up on the bench, so you were completely open to him and he had optimum access to your pussy.

Something about having a good view of your cunt and ass all at once made Harry wild. He loved to see the way your pussy swallowed his cock and stretched around it, especially when it had been a while and he didn’t prep you.

He only did what you liked, and what you liked was when he was cruel and mean and made it hurt a little. Harry fucking loved that too. The way you enjoyed the pain with the pleasure.

He could never really sate his desires with his ex-wife. The sex was good, and his balls were properly drained his entire marriage. But she didn’t like to be spanked or bruised and she hated when it ached the next day and she was uncomfortable because of the night before. Now, Harry enjoyed making love and there were times where he loved deep slow sex, but there were also times where he needed something rougher.

She could never satisfy his craving of being rougher, which he was willing to sacrifice because he thought she was the love of his life. So, while he was satisfied sexually and emotionally (at least before she turned around and slept with her boss), it felt like he had this itch that was never scratched.

But with you? Oh, you begged him for it. You loved when he degraded you, even more when he through in a few praises to confuse you. You also loved when he left his mark on you; a bruise, a love bite, his cum leaking down your thighs. You loved to be owned, even if it was only for a couple days or even hours.

The first time you two slept together he didn’t go rough on you, no more than fucking you harder when you asked him for it. But by the second time you were already begging him to be rougher, and after a few conversations about what you both liked, it became clear that this was a relationship where you enjoyed being thrown around and he enjoyed doing the throwing.

It was perfect really.

“You’re incapable of being good, y/n” Harry shoved his shorts and boxers down at the same time, his hard cock bopping out of its confines.

You could feel heat rise up your neck at his words, your clit aching tremendously. He undid the ties of your bikini bottom and let it fall to the floor without care, his chin coming down to rest on your shoulder as his palm slid up the front of your neck again and wrapped around there with a solid grip.

“Good girls don’t fuck their best friend’s daddy’s, do they?” he murmured lowly in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck while making eye contact through the mirror as his other hand tugged on his cock a few times for good measure.

You couldn’t even say anything in return to him, tears pricking at your eyes at how truly fucked this whole thing was. You were a horrible person and an even worse friend. Yet somehow, somewhere through the muddy water of your mind screaming at you that you shouldn’t be doing this, Harry’s words only turned you on further.

It was sick. Disgusting even.

“No… they don’t” you breathed, pressing your hand onto the one Harry had around your neck and pushing it harder against your skin. You gripped the edge of the sink in anticipation, waiting for when his cock finally touched your aching cunt.

Harry smirked at how much you liked it. He could even see it in the way your eyes had darkened, and your chest was rising and falling faster. He got the sickest satisfaction in the way he could quite literally call you anything or say anything and you’d be drooling and dripping down your thighs. It made him feel lusted over… needed… wanted.

“That’s why you’re a bad girl, darling. I don’t make the rules” he tutted, sliding the head of his cock through your folds to collect all your arousal. Your mouth opened in a whine when he purposefully rubbed against your clit, staying there only long enough for you to feel it before he moved his cock lower to press against your entrance.

Just the pressure of him there was delicious, and you found yourself tipping your head back with closed eyes onto his shoulder before he was even inside you. You loved the feeling of his warm body against yours, always have and you wished that he would just take his tank top off so you could feel the heat of his toned chest against your back.

“Ah, none of that.” he grabbed your jaw roughly and tilted your head back down while pressing harder into you slowly so the sting of his cock stretching you out was prolonged. “Watch. You take your eyes off me, and you don’t get to cum. Understand?” his lips brushed against your ear while all you could do was nod.

You hadn’t taken him in weeks. Weeks. And because of that, it was like he was fucking you for the first time. Harry was well endowed with a big cock, one you struggled to take sometimes. That was definitely the case for today, because his tip was barely inside and you were already panting, your pussy sore despite how wet you were for him.

 “Yes… yes… please” you whimpered, clawing at his hand that had a tight grip on your jaw.

He smirked and chuckled at your desperation before plunging into you in one go, his hand clamping over your mouth in preparation for the cry you’d let out when he first entered you. You did it every single time without fail, whether he prepped you beforehand or not.

The cry you let out was whiny and your nails dug into his forearm to try and combat the fact that you weren’t allowed to close your eyes, something your face naturally wanted to do.

“Fuck baby… forgot how tight your little pussy was” he groaned, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you close as he began fucking into you without warning.

Your pussy felt like it was being split in two, pulsing pain travelling through your thighs with every single thrust he delivered. But God, you loved it. The pain only made your clit tingle more with need. After being away from Harry for so long, you knew it would only take a couple minutes of clitoral stimulation, if that, for him to make you come.

Harry knew your body like the back of his hand because he took the time to explore it and learn what made you tick. By now he could find your g-spot with his fingers on the first swipe and be able to make you come with his mouth after barely 30 seconds sometimes. He was so attentive to you and knew how to provide pleasure in every way.

After a couple thrusts he was fully sheathed inside of you, his cock grinding against your g-spot and making you feel so overwhelmingly full you wanted to sob. You loved being stretched out on his cock, especially when he fucked up into you so mercilessly your mind was turning to goo and all you could think about was orgasming.

“Gonna keep quiet now? Or will you cry and expose us to your best friend, huh?” he asked mockingly, choking on a moan at how fucking good it felt to be inside you again. You just nodded, unable to say anything as your eyes scanned his body through the mirror.

The sight of him completely covering you was driving you wild. His hand over your mouth while his arm was wrapped around your waist. His skin was so tanned from being in the sun and his tattoos were just staring at you like they were reminding you that they’d be seeing you again soon in your dreams.

Sometimes, like this time, it could be weeks between your hook ups and you’d be left in a constant state of need. Your memories of the two of you together were the only thing that got you through it. So, every time you slept together you felt compelled to take in every detail, even when he was fucking you so good you couldn’t even remember your own name.

His hand slowly dropped from your mouth and back down to wrap around your neck, the cool metal of his rings providing relief from how hot your body had grown.

“So good… feels so good” you whimpered lowly, biting down hard on your lip to try and hard how loud you wanted to scream. Your hands both came up to grab his forearm, your head tipping back onto his shoulder while you kept your eyes firmly on his.

“Yeah? Bet it fucking does, doesn’t it? Because you’re a good little whore, aren’t you?”

“Ahuh” you agreed, panting and arching your back against him. Being called a ‘whore’ just scratched your brain in the perfect way. You couldn’t help it when it made you feel so good.

Your breasts were bouncing with every thrust he delivered into you and your thighs were becoming messy with arousal at how fast he was going. For a man in his 40s, Harry had some of the best stamina you had ever come across. He could fuck you as hard as he wanted for as long as he wanted, all without losing any rhythm or growing tired. Fast and hard, two things Harry prided himself as being.

“God, look so fucking good like this, y’know. Love seeing you so fucked out on my cock” he moaned in your ear, using the hand around your neck to pull your bikini upwards so your breasts spilled out underneath. He grabbed one and spanked it hard before kneading it in his hand, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

The pain had you reeling, as did his words and all you could think about was him. Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry. It was just circling in your mind like you were cock drunk and there was nothing you could do about it.

“Please” you panted, not even sure what you were begging for.

While one hand played roughly with your tits, the other wedged between your hips and the vanity to connect to your clit. Two fingers strummed against it with purpose and perfect pressure, making you cry out a little too loudly. The pain had calmed down now, and now all you could feel was fullness and pleasure coming from everywhere all at once.

“Be fucking quiet” he hissed, slapping your breast again. “Do you want Darcy to hear us? To find out what a backstabbing whore her best friend is?”

“No, no, m’sorry” you cried, panting as your hands slammed down on the counter to try and keep your body up right.

Your new position gave Harry more leverage to fuck into you, your thigh bumping into the vanity with every movement. Your core was already clenching with your need to come, that pleasurable swirl in your belly making you moan and say incoherent words without reason.

“Are you sure? Because you sure are fucking moaning like you do…” at this new angle he was able to lean back and spank your ass this time, your leg up on the counter stretching your skin and making it hurt even more. You tried to keep your sound at bay, but with every hit of pain he delivered you became less and less in control of your body.

Harry leaned back in again and grabbed onto your breast, his chest pressed to your back as he made eye contact with you in the mirror. “Better yet, maybe I should just get you pregnant, since you want her to know about us so fucking badly? Fill you up with my cum like the dirty slut you are and get your belly round with my child. Get these fucking tits of yours all swollen full of milk” he squeezed your breast roughly, his nails digging into your flesh and making your mouth gape open in ecstasy.

“That would really show her what’s going on wouldn’t it, y/n? What would little Darcy say if you told her your child was mine, huh?”

The look on your face at his words had Harry feeling on top of the world. He could see you were conflicted, between what was morally right and what felt good. Harry felt the same sometimes when he thought about what you two were doing… then he’d remember how good your pussy took him and forgot how important you were to his daughter.

“Harry… please” you begged.

“Please? Begging me to get you pregnant now, are you? Want my cum that badly, baby?” he pouted, grabbing the front of your neck again to pull you closer and pin you to his chest.

Your leg dropped off the counter because of the force of his actions and your knees wobbled; the only thing keeping you upright was his hand around your neck and his fingers playing with your clit. “Want me to fill your little pussy with my cum?”

Yes. The answer was yes. Even if it leaked out of your bikini and made a mess of the day bed by the pool, the answer was still yes.

“Yes... yes, please”  

“Gotta cum first then, baby. You know the rules” he coaxed in your ear, barely hanging onto his own restraint. You were so goddamn wet his cock was practically slipping out of you with every movement, and he could feel your arousal wet his balls and thighs.

“Ahuh… just don’t… don’t stop, please baby don’t stop” you begged, grabbing onto his hand around your neck again and completely giving into the pleasure he was providing. You were so close to the edge you could practically taste it. Just a little bit more.

“Been a good girl f’me, angel. My good little slut. Will never find someone so fucking perfect f’me” he praised right in your ear, flexing his hand around your neck and kissing your jaw.

That was it. That did it right there. The perfect amount of praise and degradation all in one go had your thighs tensed and core seizing, waves and waves of glorious pleasure rolling over your body. Your mouth fell open and you had to slam your hand over it just to conceal the noises that threatened to escape.

Harry could feel the way your pussy grew tighter around his cock, triggering his own orgasm as he carried you through with gentle thrusts. “That’s it. Fuck yeah” he groaned; his head tilted back in ecstasy while ribbons of cum shot into you. “Gonna give you all my fucking cum, baby. Fill you right to the brim.”

He kept thrusting into you slowly until he couldn’t come anymore, his release filling you up and spilling out till it dripped down his balls and your thighs. He wrapped his arms around you and kept his cock buried in you as you both stood there to calm down after your highs.

Your body felt incredibly jelly like and your knees were wobbling like crazy just standing there. If it weren’t for Harry holding onto you, you probably would’ve fallen straight to the floor.

“Gonna pull out now, you ready?” he asked gently, quickly due to how long you two had already been out of sight from Darcy. He dug his face into the crook of your neck and pressed a kiss to your sweaty skin.

“Yes” you sighed, tilting your head back to relax into Harry’s body. He pulled out of you gently, the feeling making you whimper softly in sensitivity. The second he gave you a bit of space, you adjusted your bikini top back in place, keeping your body leaning against the vanity for support.

“Just gonna get this nice and wet for you” he grabbed a spare facecloth from underneath the vanity while you adjusted yourself and pressed himself to your back again, looking at you through the mirror as he soaked it with warm water. “Spread your legs f’me, love”

Harry quickly cleaned his cock first and put his shorts and boxers back on before gently dragging the cloth up your thighs to clean the mess. He then pressed it to your pussy to clean up most of your combined releases and dumped the cloth into the sink before crouching down behind you.

You watched intently in the mirror as he pulled your bikini bottoms back up and tied them at the hips so they were snug against you. He stood up then spun you around, resting his hands on the vanity on either side of your hips. “Keep this on. Want my cum inside you for as long as possible” his fingers pressed right against your entrance where his cum was leaking out of you, making you let out a little sigh.

 “I love when you cum in me” you admitted, reaching up to grab his cap off his head and place it on the vanity beside you. The two of you were so close now; face to face and bodies pretty much pressed together.

“I know, I love it too” he smirked, grabbing onto your hip with one hand while the other gently tilted your chin up. This was his first gentle touch on your face all night and you couldn’t help but lean into it. “I’ve missed this y’know. Missed you”

“I’ve missed this too, so much” you replied softly, trying to close the gap between your faces to finally kiss him. He hadn’t even attempted to kiss you all night and you knew it was payback for your bikini stunt. Harry knew how much you loved kissing him; you tried to do it at any given opportunity, and he never failed to tease you about it.

He leaned his face back as you leaned yours forward, making you pout and groan in frustration. “For someone who says they missed me, you don’t even want to kiss me?”

“Oh I want to kiss you, darling” he smirked, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “But you don’t deserve it. Haven’t properly earnt my forgiveness after keeping me deprived of your pussy for so long”

“And what do I need to do to earn your forgiveness?” you raised a brow and pushed your chest against his, the thumping ache between your thighs keeping you grounded and focused on what you wanted.

“We don’t have time for anything right now, but tonight once Darcy’s asleep you can earn your precious kisses back by putting that slutty mouth of yours to good use”

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

Read Part 2 Here

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Didn’t even read it yet but i know it’s going to be Amazing. Jordan never disappoints.

a/n: okay, here it is! a lot of you really wanted me to post this on here, SO THAT MEANS I’M GONNA SEE LOTS OF FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS, RIGHT?! Can’t wait to know what you think of this one! [Patreon] [Buy Me A Coffee] (not proofread) I was inspired by a lot of different things with this, it’s sort of like Scarlet Witch meets The Dragon Prince meets ATLA??? Also, Harry is a major himbo in this, and we love that for him.

Warnings: angst, fluff, flirting, magical fighting, smut (rim job)

Words: 22K

Pairing: Harry x OC (Amber Hale)

Song Inspo: High For This - The Weeknd

“What do you do with a BA in English?” The age-old question that was coined from the hit musical, Avenue Q. Harry thought he had the answer to that question, and it was go to graduate school to get his MEd in English. He’d get his K-12 certification, not that he wanted to work in a K-12 school system. No, he wanted to be a literary professor. He wanted to be able to have high level discussions about the classics, post-modernism, film adaptations, and more. He loved reading, ever since he was a little kid there was a book in his hands. There was just something about getting lost in a world that someone else created for a bit, and then analyzing the shit out of it.

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in which Harry’s got bad sleeping habits, but they’re slowly starting to grow on Y/N 

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