#And Harry was the one lacking confidence
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*clawing at the fucking walls foaming at the mouth* RAIMI HARRY WASNT A PLAYBOY AND HE WAS BARELY SUAVE YOURE JUST EXPERIENCING A JAMES FRANCO INDUCED MANDELA EFFECT
#I’m elaborating here#raimi Harry dated one woman at 17 it went poorly and as far as we know he never dated again#he remained friends with his ex as well#raimi Harry was not cool#raimi Harry’s only friend was the guy so uncool even the bus driver bullied him#he spent his high school years wearing 182727373 layers#perhaps as an expression of tboy swag but that’s not the point#he never spoke clearly or with any confidence#not because he was edgy. because he was a nervous wreck#in the novels he flinches when people shout at him#the parallel and dynamic between them isn’t#poor loser and suave rich boy because that’s not Harry#the dynamic is Peter who has nothing but has everything#and Harry who has everything but has nothing#for most of the trilogy#Peter is the confident one#And Harry was the one lacking confidence#the more insecure person was Harry for most of the trilogy#you don’t know raimi Harry like I do do not fight me on this#I am the patron saint of my boy#harryposting#harry osborn#raimiverse#raimi trilogy#spider man#peter parker#parksborn#spiderman
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I've also been thinking a lot about closeted pop stars (including Harry) in the time of Chappel Roan. Mostly unformed thoughts but very eager to see what's next for all of them
You sent this a while back anon - and I keep thinking of answering it and each time what 'in the time of Chappell Roan' has shifted slightly and so my answer has got more complicated and the fundamental differences between Chappell Roan and Harry have become more obvious.
I think there's an emotional landscape question about what it means to be a closeted pop star in this moment. I don't know if we can imagine the complexity of this answer - and when we try it's important to include the push back against the fan gaze that is coming from queer artists.
The other side of this question is what it means for his career. And here I think it's worth asking what does it mean that Harry is going to be making pop music in this moment. It's been a time of these massive, interesting, female pop acts. All of whom in their own particular ways say something about themselves and something about pop with their art. It's been a time that Taylor Swift, who has baked cookies for her fans in the past, has told fans to fuck off in songs.
None of this is very Harry Styles. One of the things that has been really interesting to me watching the pop landscape shift this year - is that has really made me define what Harry does. These are I think the key elements to his proposition:
With each album he has had a very big song that spoke to the moment we're in
His aesthetic is striking, interesting and playful (thanks Harry L - but also thanks to hiring strong artists with a point of view for key tasks such as album photography)
In his music there's a lot of space for people to project onto, with particular space for fantasies
The core of the fantasy is the live show and its place of joy
And certainly there's a huge gap between that - and what we've been seeing from other artists recently.
I was listening to a recent episode of Every Single Album and Nora and Nathan were talking about Harry Styles for a while (I can't remember which one and would welcome pointers, because it's not clear from the episode description). And Nathan in particular was suggesting that Harry would need to think carefully about how he presented himself in this space and it wouldn't be enough to be projected onto - he needed to share something of himself. Here Dua Lipa is used as sort of a cautionary tale of what happens if you don't have enough Lore.
It's not that I entirely disagree. I think there's a lot that Harry address in his music that would be thrilling, if he was interested in sharing. When you think of songs like 'But Daddy I love him' or the 'Girl, So Confusing' remix - and imagine what would happen if Harry was interested in playing even near that playground - that's something I'd look forward to. I also think the most effective way to address the way people do and don't talk about his sexuality - would be a song that had an element of fuck you in it.
But I think there are multiple dangers here - and not having enough lore is only one of them. I also think there's a worry of losing what people want from you, by trying to be what people love in other people. (I think this, far more than anything, has been Katy Perry's problem. She's trying and failing to be a more relevant version of herself - but she'd be far more relevant if she'd kept doing what people love from her.
I really think the 'if he's interested in sharing' is the key point. If he has any interest in writing any music that comments on his life in a way that is intelligible to listeners - then I think there's real potential. But I think nothing could be more fatal than doing it for the lore.
To come back to Chappell Roan - I just listened to the popcast episode about touring, and read Jon Caramanica's review of Chappell Roan's show in Tennessee. In that he compares the show with the on-line discourse - and basically argues that the way forward, the way to build a career that matters - is to ignore the people who want to talk about you and focus on those who want to be part of the collective experience when you make music.
I hope that this, more than anything else, is the message that Harry takes forward. If he has anything to say, then I'm all for him saying it (although I think the response to Chappell clearly shows that people don't really want popstars to say things). But I think the most important thing for his career will be him continuing to do what he does well.
#I think there are two important determinants of this next stage of Harry's career#One is the next tour#There's every reason to be confident that people still want what Harry is offering#And the other is whether he has a song that speaks to this moment#It seems incredible if he could do it#(and I wouldn't bet against it)#but if he's more of a touring artist#than a centre of the conversation artist#It's not necessarily a bad thing#The other Every Single Album bit I was fascinated by#was there description of Tate McCrae's career#Which begins with mentioning that she's managed by Jeffery Azoff#There are certainly similarities#and the difference seems to be the lack of the big songs
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Bi/den just really be playing into the Repub/ican's hands... Like if this isn't conceding the election, I don't know what is.
#of course spineless liberals eating this up like entetlrtianment and not the stakes it is#also watch as the rest of the democrats will undermine harris too#fuck you chuck schumer#i don't even love bi/den but this is weaksauce and lack of confidence#this is telling the united repubs that they'll eat their own and look like fools#if i'd been bi/den and told to step down by the opponents i'd say 'you first' and not one person has said it to the fascist
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my best friend's dad | part 1
Y/N and Scarlett Styles are best friends in college. They share everything even their plans for Spring Break. They have a trip to Bahamas planned. Everything takes a turn when Scarlett is unable to fly, and Y/N is forced to coexist and interact with Scarlett's dad.
Author's note: hello everyone, i hope you are all having a lovely night. As promised, here is a two-part one shot. I tried to make it one part, but as I wrote I realized I needed to give more context and build up the tension between Harry and Y/N.
check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to the second part (+4K words) and much more :) thank you beforehand!
word count: 6.9K
warnings: talk about smut
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From the very first day, Y/N had doubts about the career she had chosen to study in college. To be truthful, she had picked journalism because she admired how polished the reporters looked on the news. Her uncertainty vanished the moment she met Scarlett Styles at the end of her freshman year. Meeting Scarlett made it all worthwhile. They met in one of those classes that was just a filler for the syllabus, where no one ever attended and the professor didn’t seem to care, giving everyone the same grade.
Since freshman year, they had been inseparable. Y/N admired Scarlett in many ways. She loved how Scarlett stood up for what she believed was right, fighting with grace and facts. Scarlett influenced Y/N and helped her gain the confidence she lacked. She was much different from her freshman self.
"Alright, what do you think?" Y/N asked as she finished tying the side strings of her bikini bottoms. "Be honest." Y/N had Facetimed Scarlett for the approval of her outfits for their upcoming trip.
"Love it. That's definitely your color. How many are you taking?" Scarlett was in England, having flown back home to see her grandma and meet her youngest cousin before flying to the Caribbean to meet Y/N.
"Ten?" Y/N asked as she wrapped her bathrobe around herself and slipped off the red bikini she had just tried on. "Is that too much?"
"I think that's too little," Scarlett giggled. "I think that's all we’re going to wear for those two weeks."
"Crap," Y/N said, pursing her lips as she looked for more options. "The rest of my bikinis are too skimpy. I might have to buy more."
"Just take those," Scarlett rolled her eyes, looking at her best friend through her phone. "Stop spending money. Your mom is going to have a heart attack when she sees the credit card bill."
"I can't! They're too tiny! Your dad is going to be there," Y/N complained as she held up one of the smallest bikinis. "I want to make a good impression. He’s going to think I’m a whore."
"Please! My dad is probably going to be locked up in the house, designing and drawing. We’re barely going to see him."
"Fine, but you have to stick up for me when he kicks me out of the rental for nudity," Y/N said, laughing along with Scarlett, who knew her father was likely too busy to pay attention to their outfits, even on vacation.
Y/N continued her packing, occasionally glancing at the screen to see Scarlett’s reactions. After sorting through a few more outfits, she plopped down on her bed with a sigh.
"I'm so excited," Y/N said, smiling at Scarlett. "A much-needed break."
"From all the partying," Scarlett laughed. "I'm actually looking forward to some quiet time away from all the nonsense."
"Have you talked to him? Has he texted you?" Y/N asked, referring to Scarlett's boyfriend, Henry. They had a fallout two days before the break when Scarlett told him he couldn’t go to the Bahamas with them.
"He's still giving me the cold shoulder," Scarlett shrugged, trying to act like she wasn't hurt, but Y/N could read her too easily. She could tell Scarlett was hurt and disappointed. "I’m just not ready for him to meet my dad. Why is it so hard for him to understand? He means everything to me. I don't bring every guy I date to meet my dad. It's disrespectful."
Henry and Scarlett had started going out four months ago after meeting at a dorm party.
"His reaction is very childish if you ask me," Y/N said. She could tell that they weren't going to last. Scarlett hated being restrained or forced to do something she didn’t agree with. "He’s your dad. You choose when is the right time to meet him."
"I feel like he's just using the excuse of meeting my dad to tag along on the trip," Scarlett revealed. "Why would he want to meet him when we’ve only just met?" Y/N nodded; she had thought about it too but had refrained from saying it.
"Time will only tell, Scar." Her best friend only nodded. After they hung up, Y/N felt a mixture of excitement and nerves. She finished packing and went straight to bed.
The day of the trip finally arrived. Y/N was getting some much-needed coffee and a snack when she was interrupted by a call from Scarlett.
"I'll never understand why people can be so slow through the TSA—"
"Y/N, please don’t kill me," she interrupted, her voice filled with urgency. Scarlett had a knot in her throat.
"What? What happened?"
"They aren't letting me board the plane. My passport expires in less than six months." She was embarrassed; nothing like this had ever happened to her. Scarlett usually checked everything multiple times. However, the one time she hadn’t was last night. "I've talked with my dad, and he's calling some people, but I'm going to miss my flight and probably the first week of the trip until I can renew it."
Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice-cold water on her. She was disappointed and felt like crying.
"Y/N? Are you still there?"
"Y-yeah," she cleared her throat, noticing that the barista was calling out to her. It was her turn to order. Y/N stepped aside and allowed the next person to go before her. She was no longer thirsty or hungry. "So, I’m just going to find someone to get my luggage back and go home."
"What? You aren’t going to get on the plane? Why not?"
"What am I going to do without you?"
"Relax, read a book, listen to music, get a tan and a massage, and wait until next week for me to get there. Don’t be silly," Scarlett stated the obvious. She was just calling to let Y/N know the reason for her absence, but that didn’t mean the entire trip was canceled. She was just going to be late.
"I don’t know, Scar…"
"I am not taking no for an answer, Y/N. You spent way too much money on your seat on that plane. You opted out of eating quite a few times just to be able to afford it. My dad is already there, so you won’t be completely alone."
Y/N sighed, feeling torn between her disappointment and Scarlett's insistence. "Okay, you’re right," she finally conceded. “but please hurry up”
“I will. I’ll miss you,” Scarlett replied. “I promise I’ll get on the flight first out as soon as I get my passport sorted. In the meantime, just try to enjoy yourself. It’s the Caribbean, after all.”
Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to normalize her pulse after the panic attack that she had started having.
“I’ll try my best.”
“That's the spirit. Give my dad a hug for me and have a safe flight. Text me when you land”
“Love you. Bye”
After hanging up, Y/N forced herself to focus on the positive. The trip was a chance to unwind, and she needed to make the best out of it. She ordered her coffee, though her appetite hadn’t quite returned and headed towards her gate.
Y/N boarded the plane and found her seat and after stowing her carry- on, she settled into the window seat, gazing out at the bustling airport below.
Just as she was about to pull out her book, a tall, handsome man appeared beside her. "Looks like I'm your seatmate," he said with a friendly smile, gesturing to the seat next to her.
Y/N smiled back, noticing his warm hazel eyes and easygoing demeanor. "Great, nice to meet you," she replied.
"I'm Anthony," he introduced himself, extending a hand.
“Y/N," she said, shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you too."
As the plane took off, they struck up a conversation. Anthony was friendly and easy to talk to, and Y/N found herself enjoying his company. They talked about their reasons for going to the Bahamas, shared travel stories, and laughed about the little quirks of airplane travel.
"So, what's bringing you to the Bahamas?" Anthony asked after the plane reached cruising altitude.
"I'm meeting a best friend for spring break," Y/N explained. "She got held up with a passport issue, so I’m flying solo for now."
"That’s a bummer," Anthony said sympathetically, “I am also heading there for spring break with some friends. Maybe we’ll run into each other again. What are your plans for the trip?”
“A bit of everything, I guess. Relaxing, exploring and trying out some local food. You?”
“Pretty much the same. We’re staying at a resort, but I’m hoping to see more than just the touristy spots. I’ve heard the local culture is amazing.”
They continued chatting, sharing their interests and dreams. Anthony told her about his job in marketing, his love for surfing, and his plans to travel more. Y/N opened up about her studies, her passion for writing, and her excitement for the upcoming trip.
As the plane began its descent, Anthony turned to her with a smile. “Let me give you my number. In case you ever want to join us”.
"Sure," Y/N said, smiling back. She handed him her phone, and he quickly entered his contact information.
“Feel free to text me if you want to hang out” Anthony said, hanging her phone back. “And if you ever want to try surging. I am your guy”
"I might take you up on that," Y/N said, slipping her phone into her bag.
Once the plane landed, they gathered their belongings and headed towards baggage claim together. "It was really nice meeting you," Y/N said as they reached the terminal.
"You too, Y/N. Have a great time, and hopefully, I’ll see you around."
"Definitely," Y/N replied, giving him a wave as they went their separate ways.
Scarlett had arranged for a driver to pick them up, so after she collected her luggage, she met with him by the exit doors of the airport.
As Y/N exited the bustling airport, she was greeted by a warm, tropical breeze and the vibrant colors of the Bahamas. Her driver, a cheerful man named Marcus, welcomed her with a friendly smile and helped load her luggage into a sleek black SUV. Once she was settled in the backseat, they set off toward the villa where she would be staying with Scarlett’s dad.
The drive began with a stretch through Nassau’s lively streets, brimming with a mix of local culture and tourist attractions. Y/N watched as vendors sold fresh fruits and handmade crafts from colorful stalls, and locals mingled with visitors in an atmosphere buzzing with energy. The smell of jerk chicken and conch fritters wafted through the air, making her stomach rumble in anticipation.
As they left the city behind, the scenery shifted to a more serene landscape. Palm trees lined the roads, their fronds swaying gently in the breeze. The vibrant turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea came into view, sparkling under the bright midday sun. Y/N marveled at the clarity of the water, so inviting that she could hardly wait to dive in.
They passed through quaint villages with charming pastel-colored houses, each with its own unique character. Children played in the yards, and neighbors chatted over fences, giving the area a warm, community feel. Y/N felt a sense of calm wash over her as they continued along the coastal road.
Y/N nodded, taking mental notes of places to explore once Scarlett arrived. The drive continued, and the road wound through lush tropical forests, alive with the sounds of chirping birds and rustling leaves. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, adding to the sensory delight.
As they neared the villa, the landscape became even more picturesque. The road led them up a gentle hill, providing breathtaking views of the ocean and the surrounding islands. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over everything.
Finally, they arrived at the villa. It was a stunning, two-story retreat perched on a cliff overlooking the sea. The architecture blended modern elegance with tropical charm, featuring large windows, spacious balconies, and a thatched roof. The garden was a paradise of vibrant flowers, exotic plants, and a sparkling infinity pool that seemed to merge with the ocean beyond.
Marcus helped Y/N with her bags and guided her inside. The interior of the villa was just as impressive as the exterior. The open-plan living area was filled with natural light, and decorated in soothing, coastal hues of blue and white. Comfortable, stylish furniture invited relaxation, and the large glass doors opened onto a terrace with panoramic ocean views.
That’s when she heard a heavy British accent say, “she is here. I’ll call you later. Let me know what they say. I love you”
Harry, Scarlett’s dad appeared from upstairs. “You must be Y/N” he said, walking over to her. “I am Harry. Welcome to our little paradise”. To say that Y/N’ was beyond surprised was an understatement. Slightly sunburned from a day in the Caribbean sun, his skin had taken on a warm, reddish hue that only accentuated his natural good looks. He was shirtless, revealing a toned, athletic build, with tattoos peeking from various places on his chest and arms. His swim trunks hung low on his hips, showcasing a casual, relaxed style. Harry’s tousled hair, still damp from a recent swim, fell in soft curls around his face, and he wore a pair of sunglasses that added a touch of mystery to his striking appearance. His easy smile and confident demeanor made him all the more attractive, embodying the perfect blend of laid-back island vibes
She had expected someone older and more conventional, not the youthful, charismatic man before her. He looked far too young to have a college-aged daughter.
“Hi,” Y/N replied, feeling a bit fluster. “Thank you for having me, Mr. Styles. It’s so beautiful here.”
“Call me Harry” He laughed softly, a sound as charming as his smile. “I hope you’ll feel at home”.
As he spoke, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the easy confidence with which he carried himself was undeniably attractive.
She suddenly felt self-conscious, acutely aware of her travel-worn clothes and the fact that she probably smelled like the airplane. She smoothed her hair, hoping she didn't look as tired as she felt.
Harry seemed to sense her unease. "Long flight?" he asked kindly.
"Yeah, a bit," Y/N admitted, feeling a little dirty and disheveled beside him.
"Well, I can imagine you might want to freshen up. Your room has a great view and a nice big bathroom. Why don't you get settled in, and we'll have some lunch out here later?"
"That sounds perfect," Y/N said, grateful for his understanding.
Harry gave her a reassuring nod. "If you need anything, just let me know. Scarlett speaks very highly of you."
"Thank you," Y/N said, touched by his kindness. "I really appreciate it."
As she turned to head to her room, she caught herself glancing back at Harry, who had returned to lounging by the pool. His relaxed posture and the way he effortlessly fit into the tropical surroundings only added to his allure. Y/N shook her head, trying to focus. She was here to enjoy a vacation with her best friend, not get distracted by her best friend's dad, no matter how attractive and intriguing he was.
Once in her room, Y/N took a deep breath and started unpacking. The luxurious surroundings helped her relax, and as she stepped into the shower, she let the cold water wash away the travel grime and her lingering nerves. She knew this trip was going to be full of surprises, and meeting Harry was just the first of many.
After a refreshing shower, Y/N felt revitalized and ready to embrace the beauty of the Bahamas. She rummaged through her suitcase, deciding on an outfit for the evening. With a bit of confidence restored, she picked out a vibrant bikini that Scarlett had convinced her to buy. It was a flattering shade of coral that accentuated her curves and complemented her complexion. The bikini top offered just the right amount of support, enhancing her figure without being too revealing.
She took her time getting ready, applying a light layer of sunscreen and letting her hair dry naturally into soft waves. Y/N gave herself one last approving look in the mirror, feeling much better than she had after the flight. She slipped into a flowy cover-up and grabbed her favorite book before heading downstairs.
As she walked through the villa, she could hear the faint sound of music and the gentle hum of conversation from the terrace. Stepping outside, she saw Harry lounging by the pool, sipping a drink and reading something on his tablet. He looked up as she approached, his eyes widening slightly as he took in her appearance.
“Better?”
Y/N nodded, feeling a rush of warmth feeling embarrassed by her appearance earlier.
“I though I’d take your advice and relax by the pool for a bit.” As she placed her book on the sunbed, just so she could let her cover-up slip off, revealing her bikini. Harry’s appreciative gaze didn’t go unnoticed and she felt a surge of confidence.
“Good” he replied, gesturing to the sunbed next to his. “I hope you applied some sunscreen. The sun here is ruthless”
“I did” She smiled and settled onto the sunbed, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin. She opened her book, trying to focus on the words, but she couldn't help but steal glances at Harry. He was even more attractive up close, with his sun-kissed skin and the tattoos that peeked out from his swim trunks. The way he effortlessly exuded confidence and charm was captivating.
"Good book?" Harry asked, breaking her reverie.
"Yeah, it is," Y/N said, trying to sound casual. "I’ve been meaning to finish it for a while.”
"What's it about?" he asked, genuinely interested.
"It’s a mystery novel," she explained, holding up the cover for him to see. "Keeps me on my toes.”
They fell into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves and the tropical breeze creating a soothing backdrop. Y/N felt a sense of contentment she hadn't expected. The rest of their first day was spent by the pool. Harry excused himself after dinner to work. On the other hand Y/N stayed outside to watch the sunset on her own.
“What are you working on?” Y/N asked the next day as she noticed Harry picking up his tablet and stylus.
“Designing a new building” Harry was the owner of an architectural firm. He spent most of his days, leaned over his design table, drawing.
“What kind of building is it?” Y/N said, genuinely impressed.
"It’s a mixed-use development," Harry replied, turning the tablet so she could see the screen. "It’s going to have retail spaces on the lower levels and residential units above. The idea is to create a community where people can live, work, and play all in one place."
Y/N leaned in closer, sliding her sunglasses down, admiring the detailed sketches and blueprints. “What’s your vision for it?”
Harry’s eyes lit up as he began to explain. “The design focuses on sustainability and integrating green spaces. There will be rooftop gardens, lots of natural light, and energy-efficient systems. I’m trying to create something that not only looks good but also feels good to live in.”
Y/N could hear the passion in his voice as he spoke, and she was fascinated by his creativity. “It sounds truly special”
“I hope it is” Harry said, smiling appreciatively.
Y/N watched as Harry continued to draw, the lines and shapes forming into intricate designs under his skilled hand. "How did you get into architecture?"
“I’ve always loved drawing and building things," Harry said, leaning back and gazing at the horizon. “When I was a kid, I’d spend hours with sketchbooks. It just felt natural to pursue architecture. I studied it in college and worked my way up through different firms before starting my own. How about you? What are you majoring in?" Harry asked, his tone genuinely curious.
Y/N frowned slightly, feeling a twinge of disappointment that she didn't share the same passion for her career choice as he did. "Journalism," she replied with a hint of hesitation, her gaze momentarily drifting away. She took a deep breath, feeling a pang of uncertainty as she compared her own career path to Harry's evident passion for architecture.
"It's... it's something I chose because I thought it would be interesting," she admitted, her voice tinged with a mix of honesty and self-reflection. "But lately, I've been feeling like maybe it's not what I'm truly passionate about."
Harry listened attentively, his expression thoughtful. "I understand," he said gently. “It’s okay. You are still young and it takes time to find that passion. Have you though about what inspires you?”
Y/N nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I've always enjoyed writing and telling stories," she admitted. "But I haven't found that one thing that really lights a fire in me, like architecture does for you."
Harry smiled warmly. “Don’t beat yourself up for it. You still got a long way ahead of you and sometimes that passion reveals itself unexpectedly” he said.
Y/N felt a weight lift off her shoulders as she listened to Harry's encouraging words. She realized that she didn't have to have everything figured out right away. This trip, with its new experiences and conversations like this one, was already helping her see things from a different perspective.
After a while, Harry put down his tablet and stretched. "I think it’s time for a swim down at the beach. Care to join me?”
Y/N hesitated for a moment but then nodded. "Sure, why not?"
They made their way through a winding path bordered by lush foliage, leading to a secluded stretch of beach that seemed untouched by the usual tourist crowds. The soft sand greeted their feet as they approached the water's edge, the gentle lapping of the waves creating a soothing soundtrack. Harry glanced around with a smile.
“Breathtaking as always” he remarked, gesturing to the pristine beach.
Y/N nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of tranquility wash over her. The beach was indeed stunning, with its turquoise waters and powdery white sand stretching into the distance. It felt like a hidden paradise, far removed from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.
"I can see why Scarlett loves it here," Y/N said, taking in the beauty of the surroundings.
The next day dawned with a soft, rosy glow creeping over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. Harry woke before the sun, as was his routine, slipping on his running gear quietly so as not to disturb the peacefulness of the villa. He tiptoed downstairs, the floor cool under his feet, and headed for the front door. As he passed through the living room, he glanced out onto the terrace.
There, on one of the sunbeds, Y/N lay curled up under a blanket, her silhouette softened by the early morning light. She had fallen asleep waiting for the sunrise, her peaceful expression making her look even more serene. Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He found it endearing
Resisting the urge to wake her, Harry quietly slipped outside and started his jog along the quiet streets. The rhythmic pounding of his footsteps helped clear his mind, but try as he might, thoughts of Y/N kept intruding. He couldn't shake the image of her in that attractive bikini, her laughter echoing in his mind from the day before. It wasn't just her physical beauty that captivated him; it was her warmth, her intelligence, and the easy way they connected.
Feeling a pang of guilt, Harry quickened his pace, pushing himself harder. He hadn't expected to be so affected by Y/N's presence, and he chastised himself for dwelling on thoughts that felt inappropriate given their relationship. He had spent the previous day enjoying her company, sharing stories, and learning about her dreams and ambitions. Yet, now he found himself unable to shake the attraction he felt towards her.
By the time he returned to the villa, the sun was fully risen, casting a bright light over the tropical landscape. Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady his thoughts as he cooled down. He decided to take a cold shower, hoping the shock of cold water would help clear his mind. As he stood under the refreshing spray, he couldn't help but feel ashamed of his inner turmoil. He didn't want to complicate things or make Y/N uncomfortable during their time together.
He just couldn’t get that damn bikini off his mind. The one she had wore the day before. The red color complemented her sun-kissed skin beautifully, accentuating her curves in all the right places. His hand creeped down and grabbed throbbing cock, trying get some release from the torture that he was experiencing. Her confidence and natural grace shone through, making her even more captivating. He admired the way she moved with a relaxed elegance, her laughter and smiles lighting up the surroundings. Every detail, from the way her hair fell in gentle waves to the sparkle in her eyes as she talked animatedly, only added to her allure.
He couldn’t help imagining her naked, under him, moaning, begging for him. Harry though about how deliciously tight and warm she could feel around him. He thought about how she would taste and his mouth water. He didn’t last long. As he allowed the water to wash him off, he couldn’t help feeling ashamed. Ashamed that he was acting like a schoolboy. He was forty-four years old and fantasizing about his daughter's best friend while she slept downstairs.
part 2
#harry#harrystyles#harry styles#harryimagine#harryimagines#harry imagines#harry imagine#harry x you#harry x reader#harry x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles y/n#harry blurb#harry angst#harry fluff#harry smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles blurb#harry styles angst#harry da#harry fanfic#harry fanfiction#harry fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagines#harry x au#harry styles x au
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the one where YN is no longer the governess to Harry's children, but she is his wife (part 2)
READ PART 1 HERE
author's note: part two of governess!yn (who is still my lil angel baby I cannot lie!) this took slightly longer than anticipated to get to you but i hope you will be happy with the final result! pls let me know what you think, and if there's anything else you'd like to see of these two (i'm certainly not ready to let them go just yet!)
word count: 14.1k of confusion, a lack of communication, friends to lovers, a meddling modiste who we all love, smut, pregnancy.
WARNINGS: discussion of death during childbirth, struggles with infertility (you have been warned)
let me know what you think of edelweiss here! mwah <3
YEAR FIVE
YN’s life had changed in ways that she never could have expected when she became a wife.
YN had never had an example of what a good marriage looked like growing up, and whilst she had worked for couples in the past – nothing could prepare her for the reality. The fact that her life had changed drastically from zero to one hundred within a few days was something that nobody could have prepared her for. It had been a true shift in the motion of her life, and even though it pained her to say – she did not know whether or not this was a welcome addition to her life.
Their wedding day had been a year ago. It took place in early June, which seemed very apt to their relationship. The first time that YN had joined Harry and the children for meals had been in June, and the summer held a very special place in their friendship – relationship? In all honesty, she did not know whether or not their marriage at this point was one of convenience or one that truly meant that something was between them.
As YN did not have a mother to talk her through life as a married woman, she was thankful for the information that she had managed to retain on her own in her life. Miss Francis had sat her down the day before her wedding and attempted to explain what a wedding night included, but YN had put a stop to that conversation immediately and tried to continue to assure the older woman that she knew what was to happen.
Even though YN knew what was to occur on the wedding night, it did not necessarily mean that the act would occur on the said night.
Harry had never attempted to initiate anything of an intimate context between the two of them. The last and only time that they had ever kissed had been on their wedding day, a necessity to ensure that their marriage was fulfilled. Even once they had returned home, she had received no advancements from Harry at all – and had concluded pretty quickly that maybe he did not wish to share this with her. YN knew that this was not completely shocking, seeing as though she was Harry’s second wife, and he had already experienced this before.
There was also a part of her that knew that men had needs. She had come to this conclusion pretty quickly after the husband at the other house she worked at left every night without fail to meet with his mistress (or mistresses, as YN had no idea about the fine details) and yet she could state with full confidence that Harry had never done so. She knew this with such confidence because they spent every evening together (with a considerable amount of space between the two of them obviously) before they retired to bed.
YN would be lying if she said that she had hoped that her marriage to Harry would offer some clarification on what it was she was feeling. She had spent so long denying her wish for marriage, and she thought that once that wish had been fulfilled everything would be put into some sort of perspective for her. Instead, it had confused and worried her more than it had before. The overwhelming, thought-provoking idea that ran through her head most days was that Harry had married YN just to appease her, to be a good friend and that was it. It made her think that Harry (no matter how many times he verbally denied it to her) did not wish for this.
It was not as though Harry required an heir to his estate – he already had one. That normally looming requirement of marriage was gone for him. YN was three and thirty now, and that could offer little in security as to whether she could have children, and with that gone she could not understand why Harry wanted to marry her. If anything, the only reason a man in Harry’s standing would marry was to ease a loneliness he had.
At first, Noah and Honorah had been confused as to why YN was no longer their governess, and instead their mother. YN had assured both of the children immediately that she could never take away their mother from them, and if they wished to continue to call her Miss YN, they could do so without any worries at all. Noah, who stood at ten when they married had huffed and refused to speak to his father or YN for the first few weeks (something that was inherently a trait of Harry’s, but YN would never outwardly tell him that). Norah, however, had only been seven at the time and saw the whole spectacle as something so exciting and had welcomed the change with open arms. YN assumed that since she had never met her mother, YN had been the closest thing to one for her – and she assumed that would be something difficult for both Harry and Noah to accept.
Even though these questions of intimacy usually loomed in the back of YN’s mind most days, along with questions of how the children were faring with the change. But, thankfully, her ole had changed within the household, and she now had duties as Mrs Styles that often took her attention throughout most of the day. The most prevalent job that took up most of her time now involved the children, and more specifically – finding a new governess for them.
To the blind eye, the task on the surface seemed so simple – but in reality, it was not. In the past year, the children (predominantly Noah) had managed to run four governesses out of the door – with the longest of them lasting two and a half weeks.
That was how YN had found herself now – sitting in the drawing room with the fifth governess she had hired who had lasted all of three days.
“… I am sorry, Mrs Styles, but they are terrors. The little boy placed a frog not only on my chair but in every drawer of my desk! And the little girl, well, she listens to everything the boy says and responds to all of my questions by ribbiting like a frog! They are completely unteachable!” Miss Morris exclaims, and YN has to physically refrain herself from rolling her eyes.
“And yet I managed to do it for four years,” YN mumbled quietly whilst running her finger across her eyebrow.
Miss Morris leant forward slightly in her seat, turning her ear towards YN, “Sorry, what was that Mrs Styles?”
“Nothing,” YN shook her head, offering a small smile to Miss Morris, “I do just have to remind you, Miss Morris, that they are children. They are not going to be easy to work with. Mr Styles has raised gorgeous, inquisitive and at times mischievous children – but they are no worse than any you may find with another family.”
Miss Morris shook her head, rather violently at that, “You are only saying such as they are your children – you see them through rose-tinted glasses. They are nothing but terrors, unteachable terrors!”
YN sighed before standing up, nodding at Miss Morris to do the same, “Very well then, Miss Morris. If you had not already claimed that you could not teach the children, you would lose your employment just by calling them terrors. You may have the night to arrange your leave, but you shall not interact with the children.”
Miss Morris opened her mouth as though she was to speak but YN shook her head.
“I would not say anything else if I were you,” YN spoke with a nod.
Miss Morris took one last look at YN, nodded, and turned to leave the room. It was not until YN knew that she was in the all-clear that she sighed and dropped back down on the settee again, exhaling a breath that she did not know she had been holding.
The list of once four failed governesses had now turned to five. Somewhere deep down YN knew this would be the case. It was not that she was necessarily full of herself, but more so that she knew she was the best of the best in terms of governesses. No matter who she presented in front of the children, and whether or not they were good governesses or not – they would never be able to help the children in the way that she did. That was the dilemma that YN found herself in day after day.
The sound of footsteps walking towards the room, and subsequently entering knocked YN right out of her daydream, or potentially it was a crisis – she would never know.
“I think Miss Morris just grunted at me,” Harry spoke, pointing back at the door with a confused look on his face.
YN sighed once more, running a hand across her face, “She can grunt all she wants, Harry! She is out of this house by morning.”
“Oh,” Harry sighed, dropping down on the settee across from her, “She quit?”
YN shrugged her shoulders slightly, “And I fired her. She dared to call the children terrors. Terrors, Harry! I was a moment away from doing something so regrettable I probably would have been sent away!”
Harry laughed with a slight shake of his head, “I told you there was no use in trying to find a new governess.”
“The children still need to be taught, Harry,” YN pointed out, as though she was stating the obvious.
“And you can do it,” Harry shrugged, as though he was the one stating the most obvious thing in the world, “I know that is not necessarily the way that things are done, but when have we ever done things that way?”
A smile taunted on YN’s face, “You would not mind? Having a wife that does not follow the correct rules of society?”
Harry just laughed, “If I cared about the correct rules in society then you would not be my wife.”
YN finally smiled and nodded her head, “I will teach them – God knows that nobody will ever be as good as me.”
“That is certainly more like it,” Harry nodded his head and stood up, “I did have something to tell you before Miss Morris grunted at me. I am going out tonight, a friend of mine is back from a trip abroad. We are meeting at the tavern for a few drinks.”
“Oh,” YN’s heart pummelled to the pit of her stomach, “The tavern?”
Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, “Yes. Is that going to be a problem?”
“No,” YN assured quickly, trying her best to not make the twist in her stomach obvious to Harry, “I hope you have a lovely time.”
Harry nodded, the confused look returning to his features one last time before he offered her another smile and left the room. YN had seen the tavern but had never been inside. She had only ever seen it on her trips into the village. She also knew of its reputation, although she would not say that she wanted to. Those back rooms, and what they held were the thing that concerned her, she supposed.
More than anything, it turned her stomach so much she was unsure how she did not throw up.
No matter how much she tried, YN could not sleep a wink.
The children had gone to bed hours ago, and surprisingly (to YN’s relief) without any stress. Her body, however, could not accept that relief due to how stressed she was currently feeling.
YN had tried counting sheep, and she had tried running through everything she had planned for tomorrow in her head, but she just could not shake the thoughts out of her head.
She could not shake the thoughts out of her head of everything that Harry was getting up to during his visit to the tavern.
Before, when YN knew that Harry was inside the four walls of this house and could therefore not be doing the things that YN was imagining in her head – there was no cause for her to worry. It was all fine before because she knew that whilst he was not being intimate with her, he was not with anyone else.
YN could not say that now because she did not know if it was true.
It was something that the two of them never spoke about – they never mentioned it. They both danced around the subject as though it was an open flame, neither one of them attempting to get closer to it. YN was truly regretting that now. At least if they had the conversation, if she had forced them to discuss this then she would have some peace of mind at least. Then again, she cannot imagine knowing he was doing such things would offer her any piece of mind.
After failing to succumb to sleep, YN had ended up wrapping herself in a blanket in Harry’s study, one of his books pressed firmly in her hand. She would say that she was reading it, but she had read the last sentence around twenty times and still not managed to finish it.
Then the door opened.
Harry’s head was lulled forward, his posture slightly hunched and his movements sporadic. He was drunk. Without even thinking about it, her eyes danced around his body attempting to see if there were any creases in his clothes that had not been there before he left.
There was not, and for the first time that entire evening her heart slowed down to a normal pace.
“I saw the light,” He offered her a boyish grin, “I wondered who was sneaking around at this time – I should have known it was you.”
YN sighed in relief, dropping the book closed in her lap, “You are drunk.”
Harry nodded, not even trying to attempt to hide it. His body stumbled towards the other end of the settee from where she was. YN lifted her hand to her head when she watched him nearly fall off, but he caught himself thankfully before there was any need for her to intervene.
“Have I ever told you that you just might be the smartest person I have ever known?” He raised his eyebrow at her, a teasing look on his face.
YN gasped, immediately picking up the book in her lap to smack him on the shoulder with, “I should have known you were such a tease whilst drunk.”
Harry began to laugh, and no matter how much YN tried to resist it she could not help but join in. YN thought that she had seen all the sides to Harry, and yet there were ones that she was learning about every day.
“How was reuniting with your friend?” YN asked, watching as his head lulled back against the settee, dropping to the side slightly so that he was looking at her, “I suppose that is possibly a silly question given the state you are currently in.”
Harry nodded his head, “It was very enjoyable, although I suppose his constant discussion of beaches across the world did need to be taken hand in hand with a drink the further into the night we were.”
YN laughed, “I cannot ever imagine you not being interested in a conversation, Harry.”
He shook his head, leaning towards her slightly, “I was interested! The first time! It was just my luck that every time William had a drink it was as though his memory was wiped and he did not know he had already told me all of it before!”
YN did end up in a fit of laughter at his words. There was an ounce or so of further relief that she felt in that laugh, knowing that the stress she had found herself in was for no reason. It was nice to know that he had not withheld the truth from her – even though she was damning herself for even thinking that he would lie to her.
“It sounds as though you had quite the eventful night, then,” YN leant forward to place the book on the table in front of them before standing up, “Are you able to get yourself to your bedchamber, or are you staying here for the night?”
Harry grunted slightly, his head rolling to the side slightly to look out of the window behind him.
“What was that?” YN pressed, inching a step closer towards him, “You will have to use your words, Harry, I do not speak in grunt.”
“I do not wish to go to bed,” Harry mumbled with a shake of his head, “I do not wish to go to bed because the bed will be cold, and empty and you will be down the hall.”
YN’s lips parted slightly in shock. She knew that Harry was drunk, and therefore his inhibitions were lowered but there must have still been an aspect to it that was the truth. There was a slight part of her that was slightly annoyed by his words. She was annoyed that it had taken him a year into their marriage, on a night when he was drunk to say anything of this sort to her.
YN shook her head, “Harry, you must go to bed and sleep this off.”
“No, we do not have to go to bed,” He reached out to grab her hands, pulling her closer to him, “We can stay here, and we can talk, and you can sit next to me.”
“We cannot,” YN shook her head, unable to stop the pull he had on her, “We must sleep, otherwise we will not get anything done tomorrow.”
“That is fine, YN, we can have a day.” Harry nodded his head, “We could… we could just… we could be together tonight and tomorrow, and it would not matter.”
YN sighs, and she attempts to take a step backwards, but Harry instead wraps his arm around her waist. He rests his head against her stomach, and she can feel the heat of his skin through the thin material of her nightgown. The feeling itself was like pinpricks across the expanse of her skin.
YN did not know what to do – she did not know what to think. Instead of trying to pull away from him (which was impossible due to how tightly he had wrapped himself around her), and against her better judgment – she gave in to him. This was the closest that they had physically been to each other since their wedding day, and she knew it was wrong but there was a part of her that did not want this to end just yet.
Instead of pulling away, her fingers found their way through his hair until they were resting in the curls at the nape of his neck.
He sighed against her stomach, causing heat to rush over her skin that she had never experienced in her life. If this is what she was missing out on, she was cursing herself for not forcing them to have a conversation. She supposed that Harry’s behaviour tonight had made it so they had no choice in the matter.
“Harry,” YN whispered, bringing her hands from the nape of his neck towards his cheeks so that she could pull his face away from her and look at him, “Let us go to bed.”
“No,” He shook his head again, “I told you; I do not want to.”
“Harry,” YN sighed, running her finger across the skin of his cheekbone, “You are not listening to me – let us go to bed.”
When YN woke up the next morning, everything felt different.
This was still her room. There were still her curtains hanging above the windows, her bed she was laid upon and still her books that rested upon every shelf in the room – but things were different.
YN often woke up when the light started to seep through the crack in her curtains, and today was no different. This time, however, she was not alone in doing so.
Her entire body felt warm. There was an excess of heat covering her from behind, an arm wrapped so tightly around her waist making it so even if she wanted to escape – there was no way in which she would be able to. Harry’s head pressed firmly into her neck, his steady breathing causing goosebumps to cover her entire body.
Last night, after Harry had finally registered the words that YN was saying – he had allowed her to direct him to her bedchamber. She had tried not to, but she had been unable to redirect her eyes when he had stripped off his jacket, shirt, and trousers before climbing into her bed. They did not talk, only looked at one another. They had settled into bed for the first time since their wedding day a year ago together, without a single conversation as to why between them. Harry had pulled YN’s body close to his, and they had fallen asleep – and that was it.
YN knew that it was early in the morning, and Harry would probably need a few more hours or so to sleep off the remnants of last night – but there was no way that YN would manage to fall back asleep. YN tried to pull Harry’s arm off of her, but he grunted slightly, and his arm felt even tighter than it had done before.
YN sighed, unable to do anything but move slightly so that she was on her back and could face Harry. There was something so boyish about his features when he was asleep. It was as though all the stress of being an adult left him the second he was asleep, and YN felt a sort of privilege that she was able to witness him in this state.
It was this that caused YN to lift her hand and run her finger along the soft skin of his cheek – just in the way that she had done last night. Her body jumped slightly in his arms when his eyes opened. This was, in fact, the closest she had ever been to him – and the fact that she could see those green eyes of his looking so closely caused her stomach to somersault.
“It is too early,” He whispered hoarsely to her, “Go back to sleep.”
YN chuckled slightly, her fingers slipping back through his hair, “The children will be awake soon.”
“And we have a staff willing and ready to help with them,” He mumbled, dropping his head further into her neck, “Go back to sleep.”
YN lightly shook her head again, “Even if I tried, I highly doubt it would be possible. Even so, the children have missed out on so much learning these last few months – and I am excited to get them back into a classroom.”
“Another day is not going to harm them,” YN could feel Harry’s lips moving against her neck as he spoke, and then they closed, and he left the lightest of kisses on her skin.
“Harry…” YN whispered, her head pulling away from his slightly so that she could look into his eyes, “What are you doing?”
Harry sighed, his head lulling backwards so that he was laid on his back, just as she was. Whilst they needed to have this conversation, there was a part of her that wondered whether or not being laid in her bed, with Harry possibly having what YN would deem as a slightly delicate condition was the best place for this.
“I…” Harry sighed, lifting his hand to his forehead, “I do not know.”
YN’s breath caught slightly in her throat, “You do not know?”
“I do know, but I do not want to offend or upset you,” Harry sighs, turning his head so that he is looking at her again.
YN sighed, reaching out to grab Harry’s hand, “Whatever it is, you must tell me, Harry. I am your wife; you can tell me anything.”
Harry lifted their joint hands to his lips so that he could place a kiss on the back of her hand, “I understand that when we married, we did so for ease. It was the best thing for us both at that time, and I understand that you may not feel the same but…”
His words stopped, and his eyes dropped down to her lips, lingering for just a moment before they bounced back up to her eyes.
“I may not feel the same how, Harry?”
Harry hesitated for a second, “That I feel as though my affections for you have grown.”
“Harry…” YN whispered, shaking her head lightly, “You cannot… You cannot say such words to me if you do not mean it…”
“I do,” Harry nodded, “I do mean it. I have meant it for a while now, but I never dared to say so. It seemed that all I needed was some liquid courage, and I could not stop myself.”
YN chuckled, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his, “You should not have been scared to speak your mind, Harry.”
“What?” He whispered.
“You should not have been scared to speak your mind because then you would have found out that I feel the same.”
Harry’s face broke out into a smile, and it was quickly after that YN’s followed. He lifted his hand to her cheek, brushing her hair away from her face. It was then that her heart rate began to speed up – when his face started itching closer to hers. Just as she thought that Harry was going to place his lips against hers, the door to YN’s room burst open.
YN pulled her body away from Harry’s, lifting slightly to see Honorah bouncing towards them – still in her nightgown and having obviously just woken up.
“What is it, Norah?” YN smiled at the little girl, watching as she pulled herself up onto YN’s bed.
“I went to Papa’s room, but he was not there, so I came here to find you and I found Papa too!” The little girl smiled, crawling up the bed so that she could drop down between YN and Harry at the top.
“You found us,” Harry mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of his little girl’s head as she cuddled up to him, “How did you sleep?”
Honorah nodded her head, “Very well. I dreamt of horses, and I have decided I quite like them.”
YN chuckled, “That sounds lovely, Norah. We shall have to take you to the stables at some point to visit the horses.”
“Really?” Her entire face broke out into a beaming smile, and she began to tell her father all about the horse in her dream.
As much as it had pained her to admit it before, this is exactly what YN had imagined mornings being married to Harry would be like. Lazing in bed with him, before being interrupted by the children and forcing them to begin their day sounding like complete and utter bliss. YN’s could not have been fuller than it was right now, but then she slowly realised that was not the case when the final part of the puzzle walked through the door.
“Good morning, Noah,” YN smiled, holding her hand out to the boy, “Norah was just telling us about her dream, do you wish to join us?”
The boy seemed to hesitate for a second before nodding, reaching out to grab YN’s hand and make his way onto the bed.
“Only for a little while, though,” He nodded with a shrug, “I am ready to break my fast.”
YN laughed, watching as Noah joined Harry and Norah in their conversation. To YN, it was at this moment that she truly felt as though she was a wife. That she was Harry’s wife.
YEAR SIX
Just as YN thought that one part of the puzzle that was her life had been laid to rest, another part reared its head to her.
YN wished for children.
Just as it was with the idea of marriage, in the past, she had been fine with pushing that thought out of her head and coming to terms with the fact that it was just not her fate. When she thought she was to spend her days as nothing more than a governess, the mere thought of children of her own was laughable.
Now that she was a wife, it was no longer laughable – and she wanted more.
YN knew how children were conceived, and she knew that with the amount that YN and Harry had been doing that act, there was a chance that she could be pregnant, and yet (just as it had been before) neither one spoke of it. YN was beginning to be infuriated by it.
“You know,” Harry spoke from the side of her as they lay in his bed, “To read a book, you have to look at the words on the page.”
YN had not even noticed that she had stopped reading the book she had in her hand and instead was staring above the words and at the rest of the room. YN sighed and closed the book, dropping it down with a slight thud on the bedside table next to her.
“I guess I am just not in the mood to read,” YN sighed, slipping down so that her head was on the pillow, and she could bring the covers up and over her body.
“That is not like you,” Harry turned to face her, a slight smirk settling over his features, “Are you in the mood for something else?”
YN rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, “Of course you would think that. No, Harry, I am just not in the mood to read.”
“Since when can a book not capture your attention?” He reached over and placed a finger upon her cheek, lighting and tapping the skin so she would turn and face him, “Some may say I can read you like a book… what is wrong?”
YN turned upon her side, slipping her arm underneath her head as she stared at Harry, those eyes of his offering her an ounce of comfort at a time in which her mind was filled with different thoughts.
“Do you ever… do you ever think about having another child? With me?”
Harry went silent, his eyes squinting slightly before he turned away from YN. Her heart dropped and the comfort that had been there immediately disappeared the second that his eyes were not on her.
“I… I do not know,” Harry spoke after a second or so.
YN’s breath caught slightly, “You do not know?”
“I do not know,” Harry slightly tipped his head at her, “I have not ever thought about it.”
YN turned once more so that she was facing the ceiling, not wanting his face to be in her eyeline anymore. Whilst she had spent days, maybe even weeks or possibly months thinking upon this topic, imagining all of the possibilities of how this conversation would take place – she had never allowed herself to think upon this as one of them.
She supposed in part that was her fault – for allowing her thoughts to run away with her without any true evidence.
“I am sorry, I should not have brought the topic up,” YN spoke after a few minutes or so, before deciding that it was probably time to leave it altogether. She quickly pulled the covers off her, “I shall retire to my room tonight, I think.”
“No,” Harry reached to grab her hand before she could stand up, “You do not have to do that.”
YN shook her head and pulled her hand out of his, “I just wish for a moment alone.”
YN stood up, reaching over for her gown to wrap around her body. She turned and saw Harry still lying in bed, this time with his hand over his face. It did not seem as though he was going to say anything, so she took that as her cue to leave the room.
Just as YN was about to reach for the door handle, Harry stopped her, “I cannot see you go through that.”
YN stopped her movements and turned to face him, “What?”
“I have witnessed first-hand what pregnancy can do to a woman,” Harry sat up, pulling the covers off his body, and moving towards the edge of the bed, “I cannot… I will not let you go through that.”
It all made sense to her now. The reason Harry had never even thought about it. She was ashamed of herself that she had not even thought of it. He had lost his first wife during childbirth, and he was afraid of the same for her.
“Harry…” YN took a step closer to him, watching as his slightly glassy eyes met hers.
“I know that you love the children, you truly do,” Harry spoke, “Are they not enough?”
YN was slightly taken aback by that question, and in turn, she ended up taking a step away from him, “I cannot believe you would say such a thing.”
Harry sighed, his head dropping forward slightly as he rested his hands upon his knees, “I am only saying what is the truth.”
“No, what you are saying is an excuse – what you are saying is nothing more than offensive,” YN shook her head, “I understand your worries, Harry, I truly do but what I cannot understand is you ever saying that Noah and Honorah are not enough for me!”
Harry sighed, his eyes failing to meet hers, “I apologise, YN, I should have never said such things.”
“No,” YN quickly retorted, “You should not have said such things, and yet you have! I only wished to discuss the topic with you Harry and I would never do a thing that you do not wish to do.”
Harry nodded, finally meeting her eyes again, “I understand, I apologise again.”
“We share the love of two beautiful children, Harry,” YN sighed, unable to comprehend why she was even having to explain the love she held for the children, “I apologise for wanting to just share our love in a child of our own.”
Harry gasped, and YN was shocked herself that those words had left her lips. Whilst YN had felt that feeling, love, for Harry for longer than she could put a timeline on – they had never said those words. If the conversation surrounding children had not caused animosity between the two of them, she worried if he did not return the favour that this certainly would. It was their cycle, one that no matter how much they attempted to change – YN feared they never would.
Harry did not say anything, and instead stood up and walked towards her. YN worried as to what it could be that he would say to her, or if he would indeed just walk past her altogether. Instead, he reached for her hands.
“Of course, I wish that we could share… share our love with a child but…” Harry shook his head, “I cannot lose you, YN. I love you too much. I need you too much. I fear, well, I would not be able to go on if anything were to happen to you.”
YN just sighed, taking a step forward to wrap her arms around his waist, her head falling upon his bare chest, “You will not lose me, Harry.”
“You do not know that,” He muttered against her hairline, “You cannot promise me that.”
“I know I cannot,” YN pulled away, looking up at those green eyes of his, “But… your fear, Harry, and whilst I am not diminishing it could also not be the case.”
Harry sighed, “I love you so much, YN.”
“Then, please,” YN rested her hand upon his cheek, “Think about it.”
Harry leaned down, placing the lightest of kisses upon her lips, “For you… I will.”
After quite a struggle, YN had just managed to get the children down and in bed, both of them deciding today was the day that they did not need a bedtime – and that they were both, in fact, too grown up for a bedtime.
Once she had finally managed to wrangle them into their beds, she wanted nothing more than to drop into bed with her husband and sleep the day off. The only problem was when she walked into their bedchamber – he was nowhere to be found. She set off throughout the house, looking at all of the different spots she usually found him in. It was not until she spotted a light coming from underneath the door to his study that a small smile crossed her face.
The door was slightly ajar, almost as though he had left it slightly open in hopes that she would find him. She stepped into the room and saw him sitting at his desk, with his books open on the desk in front of him. She knew that he had to be busy to still be working.
Harry had his eyes down, resting his head against his hands. He seemed stressed. YN leaned against the door, a small smile crossing her lips as she watched him.
“If you continue to furrow your eyebrows like that they will stay that way,” YN joked, watching as his eyes lifted to her.
YN watched as the furrow in his eyebrow ceased, and his chest emptied the air that he had been holding in. It was as though all of the stress in his body had dissipated the second that he saw him in the room. She had not seen him all day, and whilst she had missed him – it was evident just by the look on his face now that he had missed her too.
“Forever jesting,” Harry smiled, leaning back in his chair.
YN shrugged, “You married me for a reason.”
“That I did,” Harry sighed. He held his hands out, beckoning her to come closer to him. YN walked towards him, placing her hands in his and accepting his invitation to sit on his lap, “How are the children?”
YN groaned, dropping her head back slightly, “They have decided that they do not need a bedtime anymore. That they are old enough to go to bed whenever they decide it is time.”
Harry’s body shook with laughter slightly, “I fear the older Noah gets, the more difficult he will become.”
“It certainly seems that way,” YN smiled, her fingers threading through those curls at the nape of his neck, “Are you coming to bed anytime soon?”
Harry sighed, pursing his lips slightly, “I can certainly be persuaded to come to bed.”
YN rolled her eyes, shaking her head at Harry’s words, “I should have known that was going to be your motive.”
Harry’s hands found their place on YN’s waist, his thumb itching ever so closer to the swell of her breast, “I do not know what you mean.”
“You have that glint in your eyes,” YN noted, pulling back from him slightly, “The one you have when you are scheming something.”
“No schemes here,” Harry shook his head, holding his arms up in surrender, “It is just if I am not mistaken… the best time of the month.”
YN could not help the pull of her cheeks that his words caused. It was one thing that YN had noticed very quickly about Harry, even more so when their relationship had turned into what it is now – he remembered everything. Everything that YN told him that was of some sort of importance, he remembered. Even if it was not of much importance, just a tiny, small thing that YN had mentioned in passing, he remembered. It was probably one of the things that YN found the most endearing about Harry.
When YN and Harry had their conversation about children, it had taken him a few weeks to come to terms with her request. She had left him to think about it and assured her that if anything were to happen, he would be prepared. He would make sure the greatest doctors were at their beck and call the second that anything seemed wrong, and he would ensure her safety at every point. With these in mind, he had decided to oblige her request.
But, when YN saw Harry’s smug expression there was a part of her that knew that at this point, he had no qualms with what she had asked.
“Well, then,” YN smiled, “Since it is the best time of the month, shall we retire upstairs?”
“I was thinking that the best course of action was to shut the door,” YN bit her lip, attempting to suppress her smile but it was no use. She immediately clambered off his lap to shut the door to the room that they were in.
When YN turned back around from the door, Harry had moved so that he was leaning against the front of his desk. For a moment, she just stared at him. She was unable to control the wave of desire that rushed over her body just at the sight of him. It was crazy to believe that just over a year ago they had not slept in each other’s bed and that these feelings had not yet reached the surface. Now, YN could not sleep without Harry beside her.
YN attempted to not think of the past, and instead, she was to focus on the future.
YN took light steps towards him, not stopping until she was in between his open legs. It was then that he almost pounced on her. With such rigour, he dropped his lips down to hers so that their faces all but smashed together, but YN did not mind. Her hands grasped the lapels of his jacket, pulling him even closer to her if that was possible.
“YN,” Harry mumbled against her lips, wrapping his arms around her waist until they rested in the small of her back.
It was not long before their hands were pulling the clothes off their bodies piece by piece. Harry was especially skilled at unlacing a corset, something that made their recent penchant for these activities all the easier to complete. There was something about the comfortability with their movements, the ease, that YN had both longed for and never thought would be a possibility. It was now that they knew the ins and outs of each other, they knew what made each other tick more than anyone else in this world.
Their movements quickened in their speed, and Harry’s body fell back slightly. YN ignored the sound of the items that had once lined Harry’s desk falling to the floor. YN would be lying if she said that this had not happened once or twice in this room and that they did not know the logistics of it. She would be lying even more so if she said that they did not know the logistics of most of the rooms in the house.
Harry’s lips slipped from hers and across her cheek, placing light kisses until they reached her neck. Harry was completely, and utterly obsessed with her neck. He always put the most kisses on the skin between her neck and her collarbone, when they were in bed that was where his head was always placed. The one that excited YN the most was always when they were in public, and Harry pushed her hair off her neck. His fingertips would always linger there, and the touch was always ever so light that it would set her skin alight.
It was always tough work to get him off her neck once he was there, but a tug on the curls at the nape of his neck was always enough to pull him off her and elicit the lightest of moans from his lips. His hands moved down and came to rest at the seam of her chemise, pushing the lace up ever so slightly so that his fingers could rest on the skin of her thighs. His fingertips scratched her skin lightly, causing her to moan into his mouth.
YN pulled away from him slightly so that she could help him unfasten his trousers and pull them swiftly down his legs.
“Eager?” He mumbled against her lips again, his hands pushing her chemise up until they were resting upon her waist.
YN shook her head, “Not eager, just fed up with your constant teasing.”
Harry did not reply. Instead, he picked her up and switched their positions. She landed on the desk with a slight thud, eliciting a moan from her lips. Harry wasted no time in slipping his fingers underneath the thin strap of her chemise, allowing it to fall from her shoulder and expose her chest to him. As the material fell, Harry purposefully slowed his movements so that the soft material rubbed against her pert nipples. To her, it was truly as though he knew her exact strings to pull.
“You are teasing again,” YN mumbled, pulling away from him slightly in hopes that he would stop the teasing. She should have known better.
His hands grasped at her waist, his fingers setting her skin on fire. He pulled her towards the edge of the desk so that his lips could attach to her nipple. YN gasped, her back arching towards Harry’s body.
He pulled away, his chin resting on the exposed skin of her chest, “You knew what I was like when you married me.”
YN shook her head, wrapping her legs around his body to pull him closer to her, “Not in this capacity I did not.”
Harry laughed, placing a kiss on her skin once more before his lips caught her nipple again. His hands ran up the exposed skin of her thigh once more, pushing it all the way up to her waist until she was exposed to him. His eyes locked with hers again, the slight darkness in them causing a shiver to run across YN’s body and pool in the pit of her stomach.
His assault moved downwards until he was face to face with her. He gripped the skin of her thighs, pulling his legs upwards until they were resting upon his shoulders. She bit her lip in an attempt to conceal the illicit sounds that threatened to escape them. There was nothing that could have helped her when his head lurched forward, his mouth attaching to her immediately.
“God, Harry…” Her body fell backwards, her chest rising up and down at a record speed as he continued his movements.
The mix of continuous flicks of his tongue against her clit, mixed with the suction his lips provided brought her closer and closer to the edge within minutes. YN also wondered if there was a part to play in that in how much she had thought about this throughout the day. It was as though she had been shown something, and now her entire thoughts were consumed by it day by day.
With each second she could feel herself getting closer, and her hands found themselves attached to his hair. Her breathing quickened, and her chest rose and fell at an exasperated rate.
Then it stopped.
YN could not help the moan that passed her lips at the loss of contact, tears brimming against her waterline. She watched as Harry wasted no time in lifting his body back up to her, his lips dropping against hers once more.
“You are cruel,” She mumbled against his lips, feeling the smirk that crossed his features, “You are cruel, and you are mean.”
“I am not cruel and mean,” He responded, his hand moving between them to pull himself out. He gave his cock a few strokes before lining himself up with her, “That is just not the purpose of the best time of the month, is it?”
“It could be, but you…” YN’s words were interrupted by Harry pushing himself into her. YN gasped, her nails digging into the skin of his exposed back, “Oh, god!”
The first time that they had sex was the night of the morning they had been interrupted. YN knew that if it was not for the children, it would have probably happened then. They had spent the entire day exchanging what can only be called longing and intoxicating looks at one another. In part, it felt like both pleasure and torture. YN had been slightly nervous, she would not lie, but Harry had made her feel like the most beautiful woman on this earth. He had not rushed her, he had made her feel comfortable the entire time and most importantly, he had reassured her time and time again that they were doing this together. That this was them showing their affection for each other, in a way that two people could.
All of their sex was not like this. More often than not it was sloppy, and it was rushed, and it was in the five minutes spare they had within the day when nobody from the estate or the children wanted them. If it was not rushed, it was often very slow and sleepy – but in a different remark still sloppy.
“Oh, Harry,” YN’s hands ran down his back towards the curve of his bum, where she pressed her hands against the flesh in hopes of pushing him deeper into her.
Harry groaned against her lips, “This is what you wanted, yes? You were wanting me to fill you up?”
“It was,” YN responded, gasping when he hit that particular spot inside of her that caused her to tighten around him. His hips never stopped their assault on her, and she did not want him to. The second that he slipped his hand between their bodies to rub his thumb against her clit, she was right back to where she had been minutes prior.
Harry’s head dropped into the nape of her neck, resting there whilst he continued to move his hips faster and faster against hers. YN had tried her best to match his pace, but she could not. It was as though she could not control her body when she was with him. He knew exactly what she needed, and he would be the one to get her there.
YN’s entire body went rigid, her mouth parting as a string of moans mixed with calls of Harry’s name left her lips as she orgasmed, Harry’s following just after hers. Their chest, pressed close to one another, were heaving in sync, their breaths ragged but smiles still dancing across both of their lips.
Harry pulled out of her gently and helped her clean herself up, pulling her chemise back on so it was not revealing her in such a promiscuous way. YN laughed, accepting a kiss from Harry when he offered her a hand to help her off the table.
“Do you think it worked this time?” YN asked, wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck.
“We can hope,” Harry nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “But we will not be disheartened if it has not, yes?”
“Yes,” YN nodded, saying the words as though she was trying to convince herself that they were true.
“Let us go to bed,” Harry nodded, reaching his hand out for her.
YN laughed, “We must dress first, imagine if we are to pass any of the staff in this state!”
“They have seen much worse. Now…” Harry dropped down, wrapping his arm around her legs and hoisted her up into his arms, “Let us go to bed… we can tidy in the morning.”
YN just laughed, allowing him to carry her to their room.
YN had been sitting on a blanket in the garden with Noah and Norah when it happened.
When she awoke that morning, she had certainly felt strange. YN had attempted to ignore it, to push the feeling so far down that it would not affect her day. There were things in life that YN could face head-on, with no worries about the consequences. This was something that she could not do. This broke her heart.
YN had smiled at the maid that was in the garden with them, giving her a look to instruct her to look after the children whilst she rushed inside.
She had stripped herself of her ruined clothes as quickly as she could, ordered a bath to be drawn and sunk into the water without a second thought.
They had tried and tried to conceive a child, but it seemed that no matter their efforts (which were frequent) it did not seem to stick. It was heartbreaking every time that this happened, and yet she could not control anything that happened. YN knew that she was older, but she had heard of women having children even older than her before. She just did not understand why nothing seemed to stick for her.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. Harry walked in with a smile on his face, “Miss Harding told me you were in here. It is not like you to have a midday bath.”
YN looked at Harry and at those kind eyes that were staring into hers, and she broke down. The sobs that left her lips were loud, and they shook her entire body. He immediately rushed over to her, kneeling by the tub so that he could wrap his arms around body, trying to soothe the sobs that were wracking through her body.
It was at that point that he noticed her discarded clothes, and the stain upon them told him everything that he needed to know.
“Oh, YN…” Harry’s lips skimmed the top of her head, the realisation and seeing her in such pain stabbed at his chest also, “I am so sorry.”
YN shook her head, leaning against his shoulder, “There is no need for you to apologise, Harry. It is not your fault… I just… I am finding it more and more difficult to deal with the disappointment time and time again.”
Harry sighed, his lips placing a light kiss on her hairline before he pulled away, “Move forward, slightly.”
YN nodded, bringing her legs closer to her chest, and moving forward slightly, She watched as Harry stripped from his clothes, dropping them on a pile by the end of the tub and allowed his body to slip into the water behind her. YN immediately relaxed into Harry’s arms, the feeling of his arms around her body offering the comfort that she needed at that time.
“I do not wish to offend you with this, my love, but…” YN dropped her head back on his shoulder, placing her hands upon his that sat on the soft skin of his thighs, “Do you think that we should stop our endeavours?”
YN pulled away to look at him, “You wish to stop having sex with me?”
“No!” Harry’s eyes immediately widened, “No, God no. I do not wish for that, at all. I just mean that… YN I cannot see you go through this month by month. I just thought that we could, stop putting such a pressure on our actions.”
YN let out a sigh of relief and dropped back down next to him, “Oh… I suppose you may be right.”
“I thought you should know by now that it is often not the case that I am not,” Harry jested from behind her, his nose nudging her cheek.
“I think you are mistaken by that,” YN retorted, shaking her head, “I am more often the one that is right, and you know it.”
“So I do,” Harry lifted his hand from the water to tap her cheek, turning her head so that their lips were inches away from each other, “I just think that if we possibly put a little less pressure on ourselves, then you would hurt less.”
As much as YN would hate to admit it again, Harry’s word did hold some truth. Whilst Harry had never put any sort of pressure upon her, she was unable to say that she did not do the same for herself. It was more often than not she found herself worrying if it was her that was the cause of the problems. Harry had two beautiful children already, and yet the only difference between then and now was YN – and that therefore meant that she had to be the problem which was occurring.
“I think that is the best course of action,” YN nodded, dropping her head forward so that her forehead rested against his.
It was not long before he leant forward and placed his lips against hers. The kiss was soft, and light and the only word that YN could use to describe it was loving. It was as though no matter what mood YN found herself in or what was possibly going on in her head – the only thing that ever brought her out of such was him.
Harry’s hand lifted to rest against her cheek, resting against the soft skin and in part brushing all of the worry out of her body. It was a shock to her at what his touch did to her. She never, ever wanted it to end. She was the one to pull away first, placing her head against his shoulder again.
“We shall take the pressure off,” YN nodded, “And wait to see what happens.” “It will happen when the time is right,” Harry placed his head against hers, “And we should not worry ourselves until that time.”
YEAR SEVEN
From the last time that YN felt strange, this one was different.
The feeling itself was nothing that YN would say was significant – but it was there. She waited for the moment that her courses would come and prove to her that whatever she was feeling was just the prerequisite to that – and yet it never did.
YN tried not to worry herself, or to let her mind spiral but it was often difficult not to. It was as though there were some things that her mind just had to run free with. She did not tell Harry of her thoughts, as she did not want to worry him or to let him get his hopes up for something which could not be true just yet. That it could once again just be her mind playing tricks on her.
That was until, a month or so after her courses should have arrived that she started to feel waves of nausea race over her.
That was when her suspicions grew more into what she would deem to be facts. Her missed courses, the nausea, her constant state of fatigue and the fact that foods that she had once loved turned her stomach in ways that she could not express.
These feelings, which had been slight at first soon grew into something that she could not hide.
It was just a random Thursday that she had woken up and felt quite unwell, and whilst she had truly tried to get up and get herself ready for the day – she just could not.
The only way in which YN’s stomach did not churn uncontrollably was if she was laid down. That is how she found herself, on a lounger by the window in the drawing room. Her arm was covering her eyes, and she was focusing on nothing but her breathing – that was the only way in which to settle her stomach.
Even when she heard the door open, and Harry walked into the room – YN could not muster the energy to lift her arm and greet him. She could hear him talking to her, and yet her ears could not focus on the words that he was saying.
It was not until he dropped himself on the edge of the lounger she was laid on was it that she finally turned to greet him, but it was certainly not the greeting he was possibly expecting.
“Why do you smell like that?”
Harry chuckled, “Did you not hear me saying that I had just returned from my morning ride?”
“No,” YN shook her head, her features grimacing, “If I had, I would not be asking you why you smell like that.”
“It is nice to know that you listen to me,” Harry jested, leaning forward to place either one of his arms around her body. He leant forward in hopes that she would return the favour, and yet she did not. She placed her hand on his chest and pushed him away from her.
“You… The smell…” YN placed her hand over her mouth, pushing Harry out of the way so that she could reach the chamber pot she had left at the side of her on the lounger.
Harry dropped down next to her, pulling her hair back from around her face. He was confused, and even more so when he reached out to wrap his arm around her body and she pushed him away once again.
“Do not come near me,” She held her hand out, instructing him to stay where he was, “You smell horrid.”
“Are you ill?” Harry ignored her orders, “Do I need to fetch a doctor?”
YN shook her head, leaning back against the lounger, “That is not necessary.”
“YN, you must tell me if you are ill,” YN sighed at his words, her annoyance growing by the second, “I cannot bear to see you in pain.”
YN raised her hand to cover her eyes once more, “I am not ill in the way that you think.”
“Then what is it?”
YN tried to swallow the feeling that was bubbling within her, but she could not, “Is there no way that you could change, or maybe even wash before we have this conversation?”
Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “YN tell me what it is right now.”
YN sighed, turning to meet his eyes despite her stomach’s protests, “I have… evidence to believe that I am with child.”
Harry’s eyes widened as he looked upon her, “What?”
“Did you not hear me?” YN did not mean to snap, but she could not lie and say that her patience was not wearing thin with him, “I said that I believe I am with child.”
“I heard what you said, I just…” Then, his face broke out into a smile, “It is just that I am slightly in shock, but I cannot say not overjoyed by the news – and possibly a little apprehensive.”
Harry attempted to move closer to her, but she pushed him back once more.
“Harry, I wish nothing more than to hug you and kiss you right now to celebrate but I fear if you come any closer to me you might receive something else entirely.”
Harry finally understood what it was that she was saying to him. He stood up and immediately started to unbutton his coat and his shirt. He removed his suspenders, and his trousers came next until he was stood in nothing but his underwear in front of her.
“Would this suffice?” He held his arms open in front of her.
YN laughed, “You will have to come closer for me to make my decision.”
Harry laughed as he dropped back down beside her, wrapping his arms around his wife. He lifted her with such care and ease until she was upon his lap. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“We are having a baby?” He smiled, immediately leaning forward to capture her lips with his, “I cannot quite believe it.”
“Well, I cannot say for certain, but I do think that it is highly likely,” YN nodded, accepting the light kisses he was giving her through her words.
Sighing, YN pursed her lips in an attempt to keep her feelings down. Without his clothes on was certainly much better, but the smell was still lingering around him, and going straight towards her stomach.
“Harry, I am sorry, but you need to bathe,” YN pushed herself up and off his lap, “I cannot be around you until you do.”
“I thought you vowed to love me – smell and all?” He pouted, still making no movements to stand up.
YN shook her head, “That was before such a smell did this to me. Please, freshen up and then we can continue our conversation.”
Harry just nodded, pushing himself up until he was standing, “I shall wash straight away.”
“I need to leave this room,” YN shook her head, walking towards the door, “Can you open the windows before you leave to air it out?”
Harry laughed but did as his wife wished. His wife that was indeed carrying their child.
“I must say, it’s been too long since you have been in my shop, YN,” Miss Francis spoke, passing her friend who sat on the settee in her shop a cup of tea, “I might have to come and have words with that husband of yours to let you free every once in a while.”
YN chuckled, “You should have seen him this morning. I said that I needed to come and see you and he was readying himself to join us.”
Miss Francis gasped and shook her head, dropping down on the settee with her cup of tea in her hand also.
As much as YN hated to admit it – she had slightly neglected Miss Francis and her friendship since she was married. She, of course, saw her whenever she needed a dressmaking or something altered – but they both knew that was not good enough. Miss Francis had been there with her through thick and thin, and she hated that it had let it get this bad.
“Well, if I was worried about whether or not he loved you – I’m certainly not worried about that now,” Miss Francis offered the younger girl a smile, but that dropped once she saw the expression on YN’s face, “What is that face for? Are you… is everything okay?”
YN offered Miss Francis a small smile and placed the cup down on the table in front of them. She turned and reached over to grab the older woman’s hand.
“I need to apologise to you, Miss Francis,” YN spoke, squeezing Miss Francis’ hand.
Miss Francis furrowed her eyebrows, placing her cup down, “Whatever for, my dear?”
YN sighed, “For getting married, and not coming to visit you as often. It was despicable of me, and I cannot tell you how sorry I am.”
Miss Francis laughed with a shake of her head, “You do not need to apologise to me, silly girl. You were a newlywed; I am just your modiste – there is no reason to apologise for not coming to see me without a need for it.”
“No,” YN shook her head, “Miss Francis, you are not just a modiste to me. You are my friend I would say that you are my best friend. You encouraged me to marry, you held my hand the morning of my wedding. You gave me your family’s jewels to wear at the ball. And I… well I handled the changes in my life poorly when it came to you. I therefore need to apologise to you.”
When YN looked back up at Miss Francis, her heart broke at the sight of her watery eyes. She had never felt disappointment in herself like this before, and she was angry. She was angry at herself for abandoning this woman.
“YN,” Miss Francis shook her head, “All of that does not matter to me. I was happy just knowing that you were happy.”
“I am happy,” YN nodded, “And I promise you that I will never let it get to this again. I will come to see you as much as I can until… well…”
Miss Francis furrowed her eyebrows, reaching forward to pick up a biscuit, “Until what?”
YN pursed her lips in an attempt to hold back her smile, and yet she could not do it. This had been the real reason that YN had wanted to come and make amends for the guilt that she had been feeling. When she had finally come to terms with the fact that she was pregnant a few days ago, the first person (besides Harry) that she had wanted to tell was Miss Francis. She had wanted to tell her straight away, but it had taken her a few days for the nausea to not be so bad, and in fact for her to be able to get up and ready and even contemplate leaving the house. Harry had not left her alone these past few days, doing everything that he could to make her comfortable. That was why when she had felt fine this morning and had asked Harry to make sure the carriage was ready to take her into town – Harry had tried and tried to get her to allow him to come with her.
It had taken YN explaining to Harry the reason behind the visit, and how she needed to do this on her own for Harry to finally let her go without him. It was under the stipulation that she would go there and come straight back, and if she started to feel ill at any point she had to return immediately. YN, not wanting to upset him anymore nodded and accepted the stipulations with a light kiss to his lips. Any of the turning in her stomach that she felt today was more the nerves of the conversation she was going to have – rather than a cause of the baby.
“Let us just say that… life might be turned around once more in eight months.”
Miss Francis gasped, dropping the biscuit she had in her hand onto her lap and leaning over to wrap her arms around the younger woman. YN laughed, swaying with Miss Francis as they embraced.
“Oh, YN,” Miss Francis pulled away, the tears in her waterline now ones of joy, “I am so happy for you, darling.”
YN had her own tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks. Another part of this which she had not expected to experience as well as the nausea was the up and down of her emotions. Harry, who probably had prior knowledge of this, had taken her constant changes of mood like a champ thankfully. YN, however, was struggling slightly with the changes.
“I wanted to tell you,” YN nodded, “I needed to tell you. I need you to be with me throughout this.”
“Of course, I will, darling,” Miss Francis smiled, running her hand across YN’s cheek, “I will be here for anything that you need.”
“Thank you,” YN nodded.
It was then that Miss Francis sprung up into action, walking over to the trunk where YN had brought some of her dresses with her. YN knew better than to interrupt Miss Francis when she was working, so instead she stood up and allowed the older woman to boss her around the way she needed her to.
“I did wonder when you showed up with the trunk what was happening,” Miss Francis spoke pulling the dresses out, “I should have known.”
“It is just the ones that I think with a bit of altering should have some give,” YN nodded, allowing the older woman to hold the dress up to her body, “Harry said I should have some new ones made but I do not see the need.”
“You might have to, YN,” Miss Francis explains, “Depending on how much altering I can do to these dresses.”
“Well,” YN offers Miss Francis a smile, “You have never been one to turn down a challenge.”
“That I have not,” Miss Francis laughs, “Now, you have to tell me everything. How did you tell Mr Styles?
“It is not quite the story you imagine it to be, I am afraid,” Then the two women broke out into a fit of giggles and it was as though nothing had happened between them at all.
Nathaniel Styles entered the world a mere eight months later.
Eight months of what some might conclude as torture, but others may count as bliss. YN had realised that her pregnancy would be a mixture of the two. She possibly should have realised when the first few months of her pregnancy were torture that she was not necessarily going to have the easiest pregnancy. It had been easy to realise that this experience was beautiful, and YN would not have changed it for the world – it was also difficult for her.
It had also taken a toll on Harry. He had already been particularly attentive before her pregnancy, but it seemed as though it was even more so when she got pregnant. She should have known the way that he acted when she had first told him that she was pregnant and that he was going to be that way. If she thought that Harry was bad before, the closer they were to welcoming their bundle of joy into the world – the more that he would not leave her alone at all. He was there, always in the room with her and ready to be there if anything happened. YN, whilst she may not have said so during time, was thankful for him.
By the time that YN had realised she was in labour, there had been no time to do anything. If Harry had not devoted himself to being close to her at all times (especially during the latter part of the pregnancy) then she would have worried about him missing the birth.
It was slightly scary the speed at which her labour progressed, there was not even any time to call for a doctor, or even Harry’s mother or Miss Francis. She had to rely upon Harry and the maids that were at hand in the house.
Whilst Harry had tried his very hardest to not make it obvious that he was worried, YN knew him too well and knew that he was. The speed at which her labour was progressing was the thing that worried him more than anything. It was as though he had kept worrying about something going wrong, and yet nothing ever seemed to.
It was in the mid-afternoon when their baby boy made his way into the world, making their two other children siblings once more.
Harry had not put Nathaniel down since he had made his entrance into the world. One of the first things that caused YN to fall in love with Harry was the love and care that he had for his children, and now that they had one of their own – that had certainly not changed. YN had been resting in the bed, unable to take her eyes off her husband sitting on the lounger next to the window, with their baby boy placed on his chest. Nathaniel was sleeping soundly against his father’s chest, obviously finding the comfort he needed in the skin-to-skin contact.
There was not a single sound in the room apart from a babble from Nathaniel now and then, until there was a knock at the door. YN’s face broke into a smile when she saw Anne, Harry’s mother peering her head into the room.
Anne held a similar smile on her face, “Are you up for any visitors?”
“Of course, I am,” YN beamed, any ounce of fatigue immediately dissipating from her body. She watched as Noah and Norah walked into the room, both of them rushing around the bed and towards her.
“Is that him? My baby brother?” Noah pointed to the baby bundled against Harry’s chest, his face beaming out into a smile.
“It is,” YN smiled, her head dropping against her shoulder as she watched the two older children walk closer to their new sibling.
It was not often that YN would say that she saw the two of them nervous. They were such confident children; it was so out of character for them. There was nothing in this world that scared them, and yet for some reason, they both seemed that way about meeting their new brother. As the children inched closer to their father, YN felt the bed dip at the side of her. She smiled as she saw Anne sitting there, immediately reaching out to grab YN’s hand.
“How are you feeling?” Anne asked, pushing some of YN’s hair out of her face slightly.
YN smiled, accepting the woman’s comforting touch, “Tired, but I am well. It all seemed to happen very quickly.”
“Harry’s birth was just the same,” Anne smiled, “If you need anything, do not be afraid to ask.”
YN smiled, “Thank you.”
Both of the women’s attention immediately turned to Harry, who was instructing Noah on how best to sit to hold his brother in his arms. The eldest boy’s eyes were wide, and he was listening to every word from his father’s mouth as he spoke.
“Keep your arms together, just like that,” Noah nodded, watching as his father moved Nathaniel from his arms and placed him down in his sons. His face broke into a smile once the little boy was safe and secure in his arms.
“He’s so small,” Noah commented, his eyes wide as he looked up to YN for just a second until they dropped back down to his brother.
“Well,” Harry sighed, reaching over to run the back of his finger across the expanse of Nathaniel’s small cheek, “You both were once this small.”
“Really?” Norah’s eyes lit up, “But you always say that I am your big girl.”
Harry nodded, suppressing a chuckle slightly before he reached his arm out to wrap around his daughter’s body, pulling her into the side of him, “You are my big girl, but you were once my small girl too, but you will always be my baby.”
Norah smiled, accepting the kiss that Harry placed on her cheek. It was very quickly that (just as her brother’s) Norah’s attention was placed upon her little brother, who had interrupted his sleep once again to let out a small whine before falling straight back into a slumber.
“Look at that,” YN smiled, “He feels safe with his big brother.”
Noah smiled once more before it was replaced with one of concern when Nathaniel broke out into tears, his little face turning red and his eyebrows furrowing. Noah’s eyes widened, looking between Harry and YN with a panic-stricken face.
“It is okay, bud,” Harry chuckled slightly, an amused glint in his eyes as they met YN’s, “He must be hungry.”
YN and Anne both chuckled from their place on the bed, watching as Noah angled his arms towards Harry slightly so that he could take his brother off him.
“I think that is our cue to leave,” Anne smiled, squeezing YN’s hand one last before climbing off the bed, “I am sure that there’s some trouble that we can get up to.”
YN smiled, opening her arms wide so that both Noah and Norah could come and hug her and kiss her before they left. Norah had a pouting face as she came over to YN. The older woman attempted to wipe it off her face, but she could not.
“And what is with that face, Norah?” YN teased, running her finger across the girl’s cheek lightly.
She pouted one more time, “I did not get to hold Nathaniel.”
YN smiled, placing a kiss on the younger girl’s cheek, “Your time will come, Norah, I promise. But he’s small now and needs me to feed him but I promise that once he has a full stomach – you will be the first to hold him.”
Norah sighed but alas nodded her head, “I suppose I can live with that.”
“I suppose you can,” YN smiled, “Now go, I’m sure Nana has plenty of things planned for you in the meantime.”
The children both nodded, accepting their Nana’s outstretched hands and walked out of the room. Both Harry and YN watched as the door closed behind them, a smile passing between them as it did. YN pulled herself up slightly so that she was in a sitting position, and smiled as Harry dropped down next to her, passing her Nathaniel as he did.
YN smiled at Nathaniel, and even though his little face was still red and scrunched with tears, YN would not change it for the world. Harry helped in pulling her nightgown down of herself, the act itself being sort of difficult with little Nathaniel in her arms. She sighed slightly as Nathaniel attached to her nipple, her body falling into Harry’s embrace as he wrapped his arm around YN’s shoulder, her head dropping down to his.
It was as though the second that Nathaniel had latched on, his face relaxed and peace was restored throughout his body. His eyes were wide, never leaving his parents faces as he began to eat. It was a beautiful moment, a moment that YN would never forget.
Harry sighed, lifting his free hand up to run his finger across Nathaniel’s cheek again, “He’s got your nose.”
YN chuckled slightly, trying her hardest not to shake too much and disturb the little boy pressed against her chest, “He does… it is no wonder I had so much heartburn with all of that hair – that’s certainly taking after you.”
Harry is the one who chuckles this time, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of YN’s head, “I hope he has your eyes.”
YN shook her head, turning so that she was facing Harry, “I want him to have your eyes.”
Harry smiled, leaning forward to place his forehead against YN’s. Harry’s eyes were one of the first things that YN noticed about him, and they will always be one of her favourite things about him. People always say that home is not a house, and instead can be found in a person. That was more obvious to her when she met Harry, and even more so when she looked into those green eyes of his. Those eyes, especially when they looked at her made her feel more at home than anything in this world. They were her comfort, her love, and more importantly, her home.
“Are you sure that you want him to have my eyes?” Harry questioned, pulling away slightly to look at her, “Because we both know we will not be able to say no to him.”
YN laughs before shaking her head, “I have no trouble saying no to you.”
“That is true,” Harry nods, “I suppose it shall be me that struggles to say no. I will compromise with the next one having your eyes.”
YN chuckled, “The next one?”
“Of course,” Harry sighed, “If you would want that.”
After sharing a slight chuckle between the two of them, they both turned to look at their son, who was becoming drowsier by the second. They decided that now was probably the best time to burp and place him down for a nap. Harry placed a cloth over his shoulder and carefully removed Nathaniel out of YN’s arms again, picking him up and placing him upon his shoulder.
YN watched with a smile as Harry started to walk around the room, gently rubbing Nathaniel’s back in hopes that it would coax a burp out of him. There was something so beautiful about the sight in front of her The fact that seven years ago YN had thought that marriage was out of the picture for her, and here she was now with a husband she could not love any more than she did and three beautiful children.
It was not long before Nathaniel let out the perfect burp, and his eyes began to close once more. He, so far, was the perfect baby. YN could not be luckier, and she also could not be luckier with the man she was raising him with.
“That’s it, baby boy,” YN watched as Harry swaddled the baby with a blanket, dropping him down lightly in the bassinet at the side of the bed.
There was a sigh from Nathaniel, and then not a single peep from him. Harry sighed, dropping back down on the bed next to YN, pulling her closer to him so she was resting her head on his chest. YN sighed into his body, dropping her hand upon his chest.
“Thank you,” YN mumbled, lifting her hand so that she was looking at him, “For everything.”
“No,” Harry shook his head, “Thank you.”
#governess!yn#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles au#harry styles angst#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles x yn#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles#harry styles series#harry styles historical fic
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Three Peaks-ChrisMD
I had to write this after the video yesterday despite having some requests still in and writing a Charity match fic....
The brisk morning air bit at Chris’s cheeks as he tightened the straps on his hiking backpack. Standing in the shadow of Ben Nevis, the highest peak in Scotland, the mountain loomed like a gray giant, its summit lost in a wisp of cloud. Chris had his hands clasped in front of him as he always did when he did the introductions to his video, addressing the camera ready to capture the beginning of what he hoped would be one of his second channel’s most ambitious videos yet. He was slightly nervous as it was a shift from his usual football content.
“Alright, lads and lady,” Chris called, spinning to face the group with his usual boyish grin. “Let’s get the obligatory intro out of the way before we regret ever agreeing to this.”
“That’s just every ChrisMD video ever,” ArthurTV clapped back causing laughs and jeers from the group, the group being; Harry Lewis who had already taken the role of morale officer, cracking jokes about the group’s preparedness—or lack thereof. Arthur Hill, visibly unsure about what he’d signed up for, leaned heavily on his walking poles, a sheepish smile on his face. ArthurTV and George Clarkeey exchanged knowing glances, already anticipating chaos. ReevHD was characteristically quiet, scanning the trail ahead with determination like he did with every challenge.
And then there was Y/n.
Chris tried not to let his gaze linger on her, but it was impossible not to notice how effortlessly she seemed to fit into the moment. At 5'2", she was dwarfed by the towering peaks around them, but her petite frame radiated confidence. Her auburn curls were tied up in a high pony tail but already a slight bit of frizz was poking out from the tie, showing her imperfections she embarced and her hazel eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and mischief.
“Ready to prove short people can climb mountains too?” Y/n teased, catching Chris’s eye.
“Short people?” Harry cut in with mock horror. “You and Chris barely make one normal-sized person!”
The others burst into laughter as Chris groaned. “Here we go,” he muttered, though he couldn’t help but smile.
“Team Hobbit in full force,” George added, slinging an arm around Chris’s shoulders. “Shire squad, reporting for duty.”
Y/n rolled her eyes but played along, giving Chris a playful nudge. “Come on, Frodo, let’s show them how it’s done.”
The group set off, their boots crunching against the ground. The first leg of the journey was deceptively easy, winding through forests and open meadows. Chris found himself falling into step beside Y/n, their conversation flowing as naturally as the babbling brooks they passed.
“This should be a doddle for you considering your videos,” Chris said, stealing a sideways glance at her. “Any near-death experiences you haven’t told me about yet?”
Y/n chuckled, adjusting her backpack. “Oh, plenty. But I’ll save those stories for when we’re at the summit. You know, motivation to keep climbing.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Chris replied, his smile lingering.
Behind them, Harry and George were already trying to outpace each other, their competitive streaks on full display. Arthur Hill lagged slightly, his breath coming in short gasps.
“You alright back there, Arthur?” Reev called, slowing his pace to check on him.
“Still alive,” Arthur wheezed, earning a round of good-natured laughs.
As the group ascended, the trail grew steeper and more rugged, rocks jutted out at awkward angles.Y/n, used to navigating tricky terrain from her travels, moved with practiced ease, her short legs propelling her upward with surprising speed.
“Alright, we get it,” George said, feigning exasperation as Y/n waited for the rest of them at a particularly steep section. “You’re secretly a mountain goat.”
“Just embrace your inner hobbit,” Y/n shot back, grinning.
“Speaking of hobbits,” Harry said, glancing at Chris, “you keeping up, mate? Or do we need to carry you?”
“Funny,” Chris replied, though he was grateful for the excuse to slow his pace. Y/n waited for him, her expression softening.
“You’re doing great,” she said quietly, her voice carrying only to him.
Chris felt his chest tighten, but he pushed the feeling aside. “Thanks,” he managed, giving her a small smile.
By the time they reached the halfway point, the group was a mix of exhilaration and exhaustion. They paused to refuel, pulling out energy bars and water bottles. The wind whipped around them, colder and more insistent as they climbed higher.
Arthur Hill collapsed onto a rock, his face red but determined. “This is... definitely harder than I thought,” he admitted between gulps of water.
“You’re doing better than I expected,” Y/n encouraged, earning a grateful smile from him.
The teasing eased for a while as the group focused on the gruelling climb. The summit felt tantalizingly close yet maddeningly out of reach as the trail grew steeper and the air thinner. Y/n took the lead, her smaller frame navigating the rocky terrain with agility that left the others scrambling to keep up.
Chris stayed close behind her, his own shorter stature making the climb a little easier compared to the taller guys, who were visibly struggling.
“Bet you’re glad to have another hobbit around now,” Y/n teased over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion.
Chris laughed, shaking his head. “Never thought I’d say this, but yeah, maybe it’s not so bad.”
The summit finally came into view, on a good day it probably would have been an incredible view but the British weather was typical and as the group had looked out all they could see was fog. Still though, this was the tallest peak and they were at the top.
“We did it!” Harry yelled, throwing his arms in the air.
Y/n grinned, pulling out her camera to capture the moment. She turned it toward Chris, who was leaning on his trekking pole, looking both exhilarated and exhausted.
“How does it feel to conquer peak one?” she asked, the camera trained on him.
“Cold,” Chris deadpanned, earning a laugh from the group.
They spent a few precious minutes taking in the view, snapping photos, and catching their breath. But the celebration was short-lived as Chris checked his watch.
“We’re behind schedule,” he announced, his tone regretful. “We’ve got to get moving if we’re going to stay on track.”
As they began their descent, the mood remained light despite the ticking clock. The banter continued, with the group teasing Arthur Hill for his earlier struggles and Chris and Y/n for their so-called “hobbit couple” status.
Chris found himself walking beside Y/n again, their shoulders brushing as they navigated the narrow trail.
“Think we’ll survive the next two peaks?” he asked, his tone half-joking.
Y/n glanced at him, her hazel eyes warm. “If you stick with me, Frodo, I think we’ll be alright.”
Chris felt a flicker of hope, small but persistent, that maybe, just maybe, this challenge would lead to more than just a great video.
As the group reached the base of Ben Nevis and prepared to drive to Scafell Pike, the teasing continued, but so did the camaraderie. And for Chris, the chemistry he felt with Y/n was becoming harder to ignore.
Chris adjusted the camera, framing himself in the shadow of Scafell Pike, the tallest mountain in England. The crisp afternoon sunlight bathed the rolling hills of the Lake District, a stark contrast to the biting wind they had endured on Ben Nevis.
"Alright, peak two," Chris’s voiceover rang out. “Quick update: we’ve just finished a very cosy van ride—by cosy, I mean crammed—with practically no leg room. But that wasn’t a problem for two of the members of the group.”
The screen then filled with a picture of Chris and Y/n squeezed into a corner of the van, her head resting sleepily on his shoulder while they both grinned. Their legs, stretched toward the camera, showed just how much space the pair had, still having some room to swing their smaller legs, in stark contrast to the rest of the group.
The video then continued and now it showed the group gathered around, fastening their jackets and strapping on their backpacks. Harry stretched dramatically, groaning about his sore legs, while George filmed Arthur Hill struggling to zip his jacket.
"You alright there, mate?" George teased.
"Not really," Arthur Hill admitted, but his grin betrayed his determination to keep going.
As they started the climb, the monumental task settled on everyone once again, time was ticking away from them. The steep incline and rocky path demanded focus, and the chatter from the Ben Nevis climb faded into heavy breaths and occasional bursts of laughter. Y/n, as usual, took the lead, her smaller frame navigating the terrain with ease. Chris stuck close to her, their steps often falling into sync.
It wasn’t long until Arthur Hill faltered, wincing as he leaned against his trekking pole.
"Hold up," Reev called, motioning for the group to stop. "Arthur, you good?"
Arthur shook his head. "I’ve got an old injury and it was worse yesterday, I work up this morning thinking that I was okay but it’s really not good at all,” the musician whined a little, he was well aware he was the one who was slowing everyone down and he was in a considering amount of pain now too.
The group exchanged concerned glances.
"Are you going to sit this one out?" Chris said gently, resting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder.
Arthur hesitated, his face a mix of frustration and relief. "Yeah, I think I have to."
They helped him set up a small camp just off the path, ensuring he had water, snacks, and a comfortable spot to rest.
"Don’t worry about me," Arthur said, waving them off. "I’ll cheer you on from here. Just make sure to take loads of embarrassing photos for me to miss out on."
With a final round of reassurances, the group continued upward, joking at Arthur’s position as he laid still on the grass by a rock. As the group continued the summit grew closer with every step. Chris felt his chest tighten, but this time it wasn’t just the exertion.
His parents were waiting at the top.
They had moved to the Lake District from Jersey recently, and while he loved seeing them, introducing them to his friends—especially Y/n—brought a mix of excitement and nerves.
As they reached the peak George and ArthurTV tried to lighten the mood and keep morale up by making jokes about Chris’s mother.
When the group finally crested the summit, they were greeted by Chris’s mum and dad, both bundled in warm coats and waving enthusiastically.
Harry and ArthurTV greeted Chris’s parents like old friends, their laughter and inside jokes echoing across the mountaintop. Y/n, however, hung back, fidgeting with her gloves wondering why she felt so nervous, Chris was only a friend.
Chris noticed and leaned closer to her. "You alright?"
"Yeah," Y/n said quickly, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I just… don’t want to make a bad impression."
Chris chuckled. "You’ve got nothing to worry about. They’ll love you."
As if to prove his point, his mum approached Y/n with open arms. "You must be Y/n," she said warmly. "Chris has told us so much about you."
Y/n’s cheeks flushed, but she returned the hug. "All good things, I hope."
"Of course," Chris’s mum replied with a wink.
To Y/n’s relief, the conversation flowed naturally. She found herself laughing with Chris’s parents, sharing stories about her travels and listening to tales from their new life in the Lake District.
"You’ve got a good group here," Chris’s dad said, clapping him on the back.
"The best," Chris agreed, his gaze flicking to Y/n.
After a round of photos and a quick snack break, they began their descent. The steep path required concentration, but Chris took the opportunity to start a conversation he’d been mulling over for weeks.
The voiceover took over again, this time the tone changing to a more serious one as Chris explained he wanted to do more videos talking about mental health he explained his struggles with anxiety for years, ruminating thoughts, intrusive stuff but also what had helped him try and get through it so he was now in a much better place. One by one he spoke to each of his friends about mental health, opening up to each other and it was a change of pace from their usual jokes and banter.
Y/n was someone who had also been very opened about her mental health and their conversation could have lasted for days.
Y/n, walking beside Chris, glanced at him thoughtfully. "How different is it for men, though?" she asked. "I mean, society’s expectations and all that."
Chris paused, considering her question. "It’s hard. There’s this pressure to be… strong, or like, unemotional. But that’s changing. Slowly. What about you? You’ve been really open about your journey, haven’t you?"
Y/n nodded, adjusting her grip on her trekking pole. "I try to be. It’s not easy, though. There’s still so much stigma. But I think the more we talk about it, the more we help people feel less alone."
Chris smiled at her. "You’ve helped me, you know. Just by being so honest."
Y/n’s cheeks turned pink, and she looked away. "You’ve helped me too."
Their conversation was interrupted when Y/n’s foot slipped on a loose rock. She gasped, her arms flailing, but Chris caught her hand just in time.
"You alright?" he asked, steadying her.
"Yeah, just my dignity taking a hit," she said, laughing as she regained her balance.
Chris didn’t let go of her hand right away, and when he did, it was with a lingering warmth that neither of them acknowledged.
The rest of the descent was filled with lighter conversations, the group joking about their shared exhaustion and Arthur Hill’s missed summit.
As they reached the base of Scafell Pike, Chris felt a renewed sense of purpose. Two peaks down, one to go. They had decided that twenty four hours was now long gone but they were going to enjoy the journey for what it is.
The glow of determination fueled the group as they loaded into the van, but the energy from the morning had shifted. Arthur Hill, sitting on a bench with his leg propped up and wrapped in a bandage, waved them off with Harry by his side.
"Be safe!" Arthur called. "And don’t forget to take a victory photo at the top of Snowdon—preferably one where Jamie doesn’t look like he’s about to pass out!"
Jamie, who had also been struggling a little shot him a mock glare.
With the group a little smaller now, the drive to Snowdonia was quieter. Chris glanced back at Y/n, who had claimed the backseat corner. Her head leaned against the window, her auburn curls falling softly over her face as she watched the scenery blur into darkness.
“You alright back there, Y/n?” Chris asked, his voice low.
She turned and smiled, though it was softer than usual. “Yeah, just thinking about how this’ll feel tomorrow when my legs refuse to work.”
The van erupted into knowing laughter.
“This isn’t about the time,” Chris said as they stretched at the base of the mountain, the cold night air biting at their exposed skin. “It’s about finishing what we started.”
Y/n gave him an approving nod. “That’s what it’s all about. Let’s do it.”
The climb up Snowdon was quieter than the others, the fatigue settling deep in their muscles. The darkness added a layer of challenge, with headlamps and flashlights casting eerie shadows across the rocky path.
“Watch your step,” Reev warned as they navigated a narrow ridge.
There were a few stumbles—George slipping onto his hands and knees, ArthurTV catching himself on a low rock—but no injuries. Every so often, the group paused, catching their breath and sipping water, their chatter growing lighter with every stop.
At last, the summit came into view. The cold wind whipped around them as they reached the peak, and for a moment, no one said a word.
Then Reev broke the silence. “We actually did it.”
“Almost,” Chris corrected. “We still have to get down.”
“Oh, don’t ruin the moment,” Y/n teased, nudging him lightly.
The group broke into hugs, laughing through their exhaustion as they celebrated. Chris lingered in Y/n’s embrace, feeling the warmth of her against the cold air.
Someone snapped a photo, capturing their silhouettes against the starry sky.
The descent was slow and careful especially as night was falling now and torches were failing. The rocks, slick with evening dew, made each step treacherous. Y/n stuck close to Chris, their headlamps bobbing in unison as they navigated the terrain.
“I don’t know how you talked me into this,” Y/n joked, her voice hushed in the quiet of the night.
“You’re the challenge queen,” Chris replied. “I thought this would be your idea of fun.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “I usually have better planning, fewer risks of breaking an ankle in the dark.”
Chris smiled but noticed her pensive expression. “You okay?”
Y/n hesitated before answering. “Yeah. I just… I’ve been thinking a lot on this trip. About where I’m going, what I want. It’s hard not to when you’re staring down mountains, you know?”
“I get that,” Chris said, his voice thoughtful. “Climbing a mountain does have a way of putting things in perspective.”
They walked in silence for a moment before Y/n continued. “I’ve been doing YouTube for over a decade. I love it, but sometimes I wonder if I’m just… running away from things by traveling so much. Like, maybe if I stop, I’ll have to face everything I’ve been avoiding.”
Chris’s chest tightened at her honesty. “I don’t think you’re running away,” he said softly. “I think you’re just searching for what makes you happy. And that’s not a bad thing.”
Y/n looked at him, her hazel eyes reflecting the beam of his headlamp. “You really think that?”
“Yeah, I do,” Chris replied. “You’ve inspired so many people—including me. You’ve got this way of making even the toughest situations seem like an adventure.”
Y/n smiled, a genuine, heartfelt expression that made Chris’s stomach flip. “Thanks, Chris. That means a lot.”
They walked a little further before Y/n asked, “What about you? What are you searching for?”
Chris exhaled, his breath visible in the cold air. “Honestly? I’m not sure. I’ve spent so much time focusing on work, on videos, that I’ve kind of lost sight of what’s next. But being here, with you guys, it reminds me of what’s important. It’s not just about the videos or the views—it’s about the connections we make along the way.”
Y/n reached out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “That’s a good answer.”
Chris chuckled, his heart racing at the contact. “Glad you approve.”
As they continued down the mountain, Chris couldn’t help but glance at Y/n every so often. She looked tired but content, her curls glowing faintly in the moonlight. Chris couldn’t help but think this trip was very special for a multitude for reasons.
In the comments, viewers had plenty to say.
“Y/n and Chris definitely have something going on. The chemistry is undeniable!” “Chris catching Y/n when she slipped? Literal couple goals.” “The ‘hobbit couple’ strikes again! Just admit you’re perfect for each other already.” “Loved the mental health chat. So important to hear men like Chris opening up. Thanks for this, mate.”
Chris scrolled through the comments later that night, a smile tugging at his lips. He glanced at his phone, debating whether to message Y/n.
Before he could decide, his phone buzzed with a message from her.
Y/n: “Can’t believe we actually did it. Thanks for being my rock on the trip. (Haha get it?) 😊”
Chris grinned, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before typing a response.
Chris: “That was awful, but really couldn’t have done it without you. Hobbit squad for life. 🏔️”
Chris bit his lip as he then typed out the message “Dinner?” three times before deleting it each time. Something had changed in him one day but was he ready for another challenge?
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PAC : 𖤐 What is good about you? 𖤐
(Special reading for reaching 100 followers)
Thankyou everyone 🥹🫶🏻Please keep on supporting🤍
(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)
Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.
Pile 1
Cards: The Emperor, 5 of Swords and The Wheel Of Fortune.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. Your energy radiates with self-confidence and assertiveness. You are someone who does not let any kind of bs bother you. You're loud, full of energy and that looks charming to your admirers. You're someone who would build their empire with or without anybody's help. You seek adventure, and thrill and you don't like to get bored. You are a go-getter and you don't wait for somebody else to have your back, you do it yourself. You have good leadership qualities. You could kill for your independence and freedom. Sometimes you might come off as arrogant to people but you don't mean any harm to anybody. You might be funny and carefree, but people like your presence because they feel at ease with you. You light the room, pile 1.
Extra message: Your traits remind me of Eren Yeager from Attack on Titans/Shingeki No Kyojin. He will always 'Tatakae' for freedom.
This was all I got for you.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🫶🏼🥰🌸🌼🌻
Pile 2
Cards: Death, Page of Wands and Queen of Pentacles.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. You're someone who doesn't let your fate strangle you when it is not in your favor. It's like looking in the face of death, bravely. The Page of Wands is standing with his back towards the death card but I don't see it as escapism but rather someone who already dealt with major transformations and problems but overcame it with your unbreakable spirit. Now, you stand tall and fearless with a passion for work and growth. You guys could be married to your work. You're someone who people admire for their maturity. You're very reliable and stable, structured and organized. People might come to you for advice too. Your determination is unshakeable. You look very earthy and grounded or very fiery and passionate or both. Doesn't matter whichever career field you're involved in, you mostly keep your personal life to yourself. You have a great desire to maintain stability for yourself and your loved ones.
Extra Message: Your traits remind me of Loid Forger from Spy Family and Nanami Kento from Jujutsu Kaisen.
This was all I got for you.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🫶🏼🌻🌼🌸🥰
Pile 3
Cards: 9 of Wands, 2 of Wands, King of Wands.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. You're someone who was either bullied, taken advantage of or struggled very much earlier in your life. You thought you wouldn't overcome your problems but you were always more powerful than that. You developed from 9 of Wands to the King of Wands and it was indeed a long journey. You never give yourself enough credit for coming so far. You even lacked confidence earlier and had a low self-esteem but you've totally transformed yourself, your experiences made you this way. You speak more now, act more and you stand firmly for what you believe in. You do things you never thought you'd ever do. You are slowly coming more into light, you're more seen now. People who've been a witness to your journey either find your progress shocking or very inspirational and admirable.
Extra Message: Your traits remind me of Armin Arlert from Attack On Titans/Shingeki No Kyojin. His personality development was remarkable. Also, Ron Weasley from Harry Potter but in reference to the books and not the movies.
This was all I got for you.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🥰🌸🌼🌻🫶🏼
Pile 4
Cards: King Of Cups, 4 Of Swords and The Star.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. You are a humanitarian. You love to help people and your personality could be very unique. Your career path as well, could be very different and unique which people don't go for normally. You might be secretive and mysterious and have very few close friends. You might love to do charity and donations, you might even work with an NGO. You love animals, you might be doing something for them. You are someone who's emotionally very mature and understanding of people's behavior and emotions. You have a good sense of self. You might be highly aware of yourself and sensitive to your surroundings. Your hunches are on point most of the time. You don't like conflicts. You may have a calm demeanor. You might be interested in occultism, wicca, witchcraft, healing, mysticism, astrology, reiki etc.. You could prefer spiritualism over religion. No matter how different, you don't change your beliefs to please the world. You could come off as naive and gullible but your inner spirit is very strong. It intimidates as well as intrigues people.
Extra Message: Your traits remind me of Michael Jackson- The King of Pop.
This was all I got for you.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🫶🏼🌻🌼🥰
Pile 5
Cards: Justice, 10 of Swords and The King of Cups.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 5. You have a strong sense of justice. You are either this way by birth or you were not treated well/something bad happened to you in your childhood. You are not biased in your approach, you listen to all the parties involved before making any decision. Some of you could be lawyers or you study law, you could be police officers, or in the Army, navy, or air force. The card 10 of Swords is number 10 and it is the last number in minor arcana and Justice is 11, so, I believe you've come out of a difficult phase(10) and you're one step ahead of everything(11). You are quite the thinker. You weigh your words before speaking and you don't speak where it's not required but I'm also getting that either you talk too much or too less. Your speech might be entertaining or inspiring. You could also be good at voice dubbing or even singing. You also seem mentally mature and understanding. You might have a good sense of right and wrong. You might also be an avid reader. You look smart and clever, either street smart or book smart. You have a lot of knowledge about different things and you also love to share that knowledge. You're either very serious or fun to be around. Your intuition is on point. You love to fight or speak on behalf of other people especially those who can't do it for themselves.
Extra Message: Your traits remind me of L. Lawliet from Death Note.
This was all I got for you.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🥰🫶🏼🌼🌸🌻
Do watch the anime mentioned in the above piles if you haven't yet or you can also read the manga..🫶🏼🥰
Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.
#astrology#divination#spiritualgrowth#spirituality#tarot divination#tarot pac#tarot pick a card#pick a card#pick a pile#daily tarot
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Why Silent Hill 3 is my big favorite- a terrifying horror game about woman's experiences and the fears that come from existing as a woman in a patriarchal society
Silent Hill 3 is probably my favorite Silent Hill game and one of my favorite games of all time, and it has a story and themes that I've always really vibed with. It tells a remarkably progressive story for it's time that handles some intense themes that are still relevant even today, about experiences that a lot of woman go through and the fears that come from existing as a woman in a patriarchal society, what it's like having your own agency and bodily autonomy taken away from you, forced pregnancy and sexual assault, how harmful patriarchal societies are and this game really getting into the religious flavor of patriarchy in particular.
It's an incredibly scary game that uses a feminine sort of horror to great effect, with the design of the other world being as bloody as it is and the monster designs being representative of this. I mean there is a type of creature that are literally supposed to look like fetuses that start getting bigger throughout the game as the birth of God draws near and the giant worm boss for lack of a better way of putting, literally being a giant penis. I think the main complaint that I hear from people about this game is how slow the story is in the first half of the game, but I think the whole getting home late at night as a young woman contributes a lot to what this game is saying. And I absolutely love how this game ends with Heather literally aborting God and fighting it as the final boss, symbolizing her fully taking control of her life and rejecting all of the harmful expectations that were forced onto her. Main antagonist Claudia is such a tragic character though, someone who was so brainwashed by town's religion into think that someone HAS to give birth to God so hard that she did it herself and she suffered for it.
Also while not as intentional considering when it was written and they probably couldn't even write about this stuff if they wanted to, something that I think is worth noting is that I've heard from a lot of trans people who relate to this game as well and I can really see it. Considering it's about people who Heather knows from a past life, coming back to remind her of that past life and forcing it onto her, and Claudia referring to Heather as Alessa could be interpreted as deadnaming Heather. But yeah I've always really loved and connected with this game for how well it handles it's themes about woman's experiences and I think it's really cool how many trans people have been able to relate to it with those specific experiences as well.
Another of my favorite things about Silent Hill 3 is the main character Heather, because she really is one of the coolest characters that I've always really related to. Her struggles are incredibly relatable, but she's also inspiring in how she overcomes them and is always so confident. In fact I appreciate how her and her father subvert societal gender roles in opposite directions, with Heather being as confident and extroverted as she is, probably more then any other Silent Hill protagonist and willing to stand up to all of the men in the story like Douglas in the beginning, Vincent and Leonard, along with all of the monsters she has to fight. And Harry being a single parent who is as gentle and caring as he is, with his one track mind of looking as his daughter, he's kind of both a father and a mother in that way, and also being as physically weak as he is and the opposite of a action hero. She also easily has the most personality of any Silent Hill protagonist, like this girl is overflowing with charisma and is even a little jokey. In fact another detail that I like is how much personality comes through in her examine dialogue, where you actually get to hear her thoughts on everything instead of just basic observation "this is a thing" that the other games in the series do. Heather has opinions on everything, but how she's feeling throughout the game is also conveyed. The dialogue of her observations in the first half of the game has a much more playful and hopeful tone to it, but after Harry dies she becomes much more pessimistic, can only see the negatives in everything and just doesn't seem to care anymore.
Heather is an incredibly well written and nuanced character, and I'll be honest that this is the game I least want to see be remade because I know that they would find a way to fuck up the writing of her character and handling of the themes of this game. Even after the Silent Hill 2 remake being as good as it is, one of Blooperteams biggest flaws is being incapable of handling anything to do with woman's experiences or perspective. SH2 used to be my fav, but I came to realize that it was mostly just because it was the popular one and that I vibe a lot more with SH3 and 4. Especially because SH2 tells a story about misogyny but makes it all about the perpetrator rather then the victim, unlike Silent Hill 3 which does actually tell the story of someone on the receiving end of that type of violence and objectification. SH3 and 4 are my personal favorites, 3 because Heather is best protagonist and I really appreciate it's themes which are handled perfectly, and SH4 because it has a really cool narrative and horror concepts. I know opinions on SH4 are really split, and while I think there are some gameplay things that are jank, I love it's story and premise so much.
#Silent Hill 3#Silent Hill 4#Silent Hill 2#Silent Hill#Heather Mason#Henry Townsend#James Sunderland#Harry Mason#Konami
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𝖧𝖮𝖶 𝖣𝖮 𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖸 𝖵𝖨𝖤𝖶 𝖸𝖮𝖴? | 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽.
— Hello! I thought I'd try and give a more in-depth reading. Interestingly, some of the piles seem to be similar. Perhaps this reading is meant for just a few people. I tried to keep it pretty general and unbiased whether we're talking about platonic or romantic connections, but it seems like there are hints of romantic feelings in all of them. However, if you're inquiring about a friendship or something similar, feel free to take what resonates and ignore the rest. <3
ORIGINAL DATE POSTED : MARCH 22ND, 2024.
HOW TO CHOOSE A PILE : The outcome may vary based on whether you receive clear messages visually or intuitively. If you resonate more with selecting a pile visually, trust that inclination. Personally, I believe the notion that 'looks can deceive,' so I prefer to take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the pile I'm meant to connect with to come to me. You might see the color of the pile, sense or hear a number, or simply feel its overall vibe.
Please don’t redistribute or edit my content.
MUST READ + MASTERLIST | KO-FI
PILE ONE
How Do They View You? King of Wands | Queen of Swords | Death.
To start, this person respects you heavily. They perceive you as someone exuding confidence and leading by example. You've influenced them at the very least. If you're experiencing change or have recently undergone a transformation, they want you to know they're proud of you.
How Do They View You? Dragon : Seeing One's Most True Self, Balancing Ego. | Oyster : Patient, Secret-Keeper, Hiding Inner Treasures.
They see the real you, not just the image you project. If you're shy or uncertain, they want to remind you not to underestimate yourself, and to embrace your genuine beauty and intelligence. They know that everyone else wants to see it too. I believe that they might perceive your confidence as a sort of façade.
How Do They View You? Trickster — Light : Transcending Convention, Stuffiness and Predictable Behavior. Shadow : Manipulating Others Through Duplicity.
I didn't view this card negatively; it felt more like confirmation of what I said earlier. This person understands that you don't reveal everything and perhaps even play a role, though it may not be intentional. They recognize your tendency to use humor as a shield, but they wish you would let them in a bit more because they can see through you already.
How Do They Feel Around You? Determination, Balance, Cleanse, Magic, Protection.
When this person is around you, they experience a sense of balance and comfort. They feel a protective instinct towards you, given what they know about you, or vice versa. They long to express their love and appreciation more openly and receive it in return. Reach out to them more often!
Additional. Photograph : Looking at Your Photos, Missing You, Nostalgia, Make New Memories.
They miss you if there's any current separation or lack of communication. They might even be keeping an eye on you, whether through social media or mutual connections, just to ensure you're doing alright.
Extra: Aquarius, Change, 10, Unique, Libra, Scorpio, Emotions, Bittersweet, Funny, Summer Blues, Phone Call.
Alien Blues : Vundabar | Fine Line : Harry Styles | I Wanna Be Yours : Artic Monkeys.
PILE TWO
How Do They View You? Ten of Wands [Reversed] | Nine of Swords [Reversed] | Knight of Pentacles.
This person acknowledges your ambition but finds it amusing that you can also be a bit absent-minded. It's not meant as an insult but more of a playful tease. They believe you sometimes overlook the risks around you because you're so captivated and excited by what lies ahead, which can come off as slightly immature. It reminds them of a naive child who might need a gentle nudge in the right direction, so you don't leap off the cliff hoping to grab the sun. I can picture someone stumbling clumsily while the other bursts into loud laughter.
How Do They View You? Moth : Impulsive, Hasty, Wishful | Bee : Earnest, Hardworking, Democratic.
I find this dynamic incredibly endearing. They see you as someone goofy or even whimsical. You're sensitive and vibrant, drawing people to you effortlessly, which they appreciate. Sometimes, it seems like they want to slow you down a bit so you don't scurry off too quickly. You give off a jittery vibe at times.
How Do They View You? Rescuer — Light : Provides Strength and Support to Others in Crisis. Acts out of Love with no Expectation of Reward. Shadow : Assumes that the Rescued will Reciprocate. Goddess — Light : The Feminine Expressed through Wisdom, Nature, Life Force and Sensuality. Shadow : Exploitation of the Female Nature and Form.
This person admires your kindness and charm. I can picture them giggling nonstop whenever they're with you. It's as if you have no worries, just frolicking through life carefree.
How Do They Feel Around You? Sweetness, Success, Rejection.
Once more, you're incredibly sweet to them. Normally, they feel content in your company, but there might be moments when they feel rejected. If they've made a move and you've turned them down, that's the reason. They need time to move on and accept that boundary if don't reciprocate their feelings. If not, it's because they've been dropping hints left and right, and you're just too oblivious to pick up on them.
Additional. Stabbed in the Back : Heartbreak, Pain, Separation, Shocking Attack. Camera : Remininscing, Keepsake, Perception, Learn from the Past, Make Memories. Coffee Cup : Meeting and Conversing, Savoring the Moment, Feeling Uplifted, Friendship.
Yeah, they're definitely feeling a bit disheartened that their attempts to win you over aren't hitting the mark or are just going unnoticed. But hey, you don't owe them anything, so no need to feel guilty. Regardless, they want to keep being part of your life, cherishing the friendship you've both formed.
Extra : Pisces, Indecisive, Kind, 7, Individuality, Unique, Communication, Taurus, Leo, Cancer, Junebug, Wheel, Fields.
Dangerously In Love : Beyoncé. | Hanging Your Picture Up To Dry : Cut Worms.
[18+, SUGGESTIVE.]
PILE THREE
How Do They View You? Ace of Swords, Six of Swords, Wheel of Fortune [Reversed].
I wasn't anticipating this kind of reading when I shuffled the cards. I almost reshuffled to get a more generic and 'safe' result, but I decided against it. It seems this person likes you a little more than they probably should. They perceive you as someone incredibly self-assured and inspiring, maybe even a bit out of their league. Yet, despite feeling like they're chasing you, they don't seem to mind the playful challenge and are willing to put in the extra effort to break through your defenses.
How Do They View You? Cheetah : Solar Force, Action, Achievement. | Starfish : Beautiful, Alluring, Superficial or Shallow.
This seems pretty clear-cut, lol. They view you as someone with the potential to reach any goal, maybe because your appearance tends to influence people without you even trying. They're strongly attracted to you, but they're also aware they're not alone in admiring you.
How Do They View You? Queen — Light : Radiates the Regal Feminine. Uses Her Benevolent Authority to Protect Others. Shadow : Becomes Arrogant When Authority Is Challenged. Controlling and Demanding. Hero/Heroine — Light : Passion for a Journey of Personal Empowerment. Shadow : Escapism and a False Sense of Heroism.
They definitely put you on a pedestal in their mind. Sometimes you can get a little sassy or assertive because you're clear about what you want, and they find that irresistible. They truly appreciate the natural authority you exude.
How Do They Feel Around You? Passion, Trust, Hunger.
Do I really need to elaborate? For my own sake, I'll keep it brief. You light a fire within them, and they feel like they cannot control such feelings.
Additional. The Snake : Competition, Enemy, Clever, Malicious, Look Over Your Shoulder, The Other Woman. Kisses : Unconditionally Loving, Giving and Receiving Affection, Falling in Love.
As I mentioned, they feel this urge to compete for your affection with others. They might even experience a twinge of jealousy seeing someone else getting your attention while they're so invested in you. My advice is, if this is a secret admirer or a third-party situation, it's best to tell them where they stand. If you're not interested, it's important not to lead them on. However, if polyamory is part of your dynamic, then there's no need to worry about what I'm saying; it seems like they enjoy the thrill of the chase.
Extra: 6, Virgo, Possessive, Cancer, Fussy, Moon, Emotions, Strong Needs, Candles, Stack of Papers, Show Off, Linger, Lust.
Fields of Elation : Sleep Token | Somebody Else : Bad Omens | Lost in the Fire : The Weeknd.
#metaphysical#occult#tarot#tarot reading#tarot readings#tarot reader#tarot cards#divination#divination reading#oracle#oracle cards#oracle deck#oracle reading#spiritual#spirit#spirituality#pick a card#witch#pac#tarot deck#advice#manifesation#tarot community#rainerioun#how do they see me#how do they view me#how do they feel#romance#friendship#general reading
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Harry Potter | Draco Malfoy x Potter!Reader ~ Spite
Info: Alternate Universe
Starting at Hogwarts, it was an unspoken certainty that you and Harry were expected to be sorted together. Growing up as twins, the two of you were inseparable, and although you loved him fiercely, being constantly lumped together as “the Potters” could feel stifling. Still, you’d promised each other that you would face Hogwarts together.
But on the morning of your sorting ceremony, an argument with Harry about, of all things, a seating arrangement in the Great Hall, sparked something fierce between you. All the pressure and expectation came to a head, and your simmering frustration came out. After the bickering subsided, you left feeling frustrated and misunderstood, determined to assert your independence. In that defiant moment, a new, impulsive thought formed: what if you did something different? What if you made a choice that would shock everyone, including Harry?
When it was finally your turn to be sorted, you walked up to the Sorting Hat with your head held high and whispered, "I want Slytherin.”
The hat hesitated, as if it were reading into the motivation behind your words. "Slytherin?" it mused. "A bold choice… the potential is there, true, but you are loyal, clever, and brave, like your brother.”
“I don’t care. I want Slytherin.” Your voice left no room for argument. And with that, the hat’s brim split into a grin.
“Very well… SLYTHERIN!” it announced.
The hall filled with murmurs and surprised looks. You caught a glimpse of Harry, who was already seated at the Gryffindor table, looking at you in shock. Ignoring his gaze, you moved over to the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy, with his signature smirk, gestured for you to sit beside him. You met his smirk with one of your own, feeling a spark of satisfaction. This was your choice — your own path.
At first, befriending Draco was a way to add to your new, independent identity. He seemed eager to make friends with you too, given your famous last name and now that you were one of the few who had dared to do something unexpected.
“You know,” Draco drawled one afternoon, leaning back in his chair as you sat together in the library, “I think you might be the smartest Potter after all.”
“Just because I chose Slytherin?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Not just that,” he said. “There’s a streak in you that I admire — the courage to do things that nobody else would expect. That’s something most people here lack.”
Draco's confidence, which often came off as arrogance to others, began to feel strangely refreshing. He didn’t spend all his time worrying about what people thought; he simply was who he was. Over time, the friendship that started as a rebellious act became something genuine. You found yourself laughing with him, sharing secrets, and supporting each other through the challenges of Hogwarts. Draco introduced you to the complexities of Slytherin house, and you saw sides of him that others didn’t. Beneath the bravado, there was an honest, loyal friend who valued loyalty and ambition.
Harry and Ron didn’t understand it. They still saw Draco as the arrogant boy from a rival house, and Harry especially could barely hide his frustration whenever he saw the two of you together. He tried talking you out of it multiple times.
“I just don’t understand why you’d be friends with him,” Harry said one day after class, his tone bordering on pleading.
You took a deep breath, feeling the familiar annoyance bubbling up. “Maybe because he’s not as bad as you think, Harry. Maybe because you’re too busy judging him to see that there’s more to him.”
“Or maybe he’s using you,” Harry retorted. The accusation hurt, especially coming from your twin, and only fueled your resolve to prove him wrong.
Your closeness with Draco only grew, and by your fourth year, there was an undeniable spark between you. You tried to deny it at first, thinking it was simply a close friendship. But one late night, after everyone had gone to bed, you found yourself alone with him in the common room, talking about everything and nothing, and he took your hand.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone before,” Draco admitted, his usual confidence wavering. You could see a vulnerability in his eyes that he rarely showed to anyone.
You squeezed his hand, your heart racing. “Neither have I,” you whispered.
From that moment on, your relationship shifted. You and Draco were no longer just friends; you were partners, in every sense of the word. Hogwarts could be isolating, especially for a Slytherin Potter, but with Draco, you had someone who understood you, who accepted your choice, and who valued you for who you were, not just your famous last name.
Of course, the news of your relationship spread quickly, and not everyone was pleased. Harry, in particular, found it difficult to accept.
“You’re dating Malfoy?” he asked incredulously one afternoon when you ran into him in the corridors.
“Yes, Harry, I am,” you replied, crossing your arms. You’d expected this reaction but were determined to hold your ground.
“But... he’s always hated us. He’s always hated me.” Harry’s voice was filled with confusion and hurt.
You softened, understanding that it was difficult for him to grasp. “Draco doesn’t hate me, Harry. He’s been there for me in ways you wouldn’t understand. Just because he doesn’t get along with you doesn’t mean he isn’t a good person.”
Harry looked like he wanted to argue, but he sighed instead. “I just… I worry about you.”
“I know you do,” you said, giving him a small smile. “But I can take care of myself. And Draco? He makes me happy.”
Over time, people started to adjust. While some Gryffindors, like Hermione, grew to respect your choice, others remained wary, still viewing Draco through the lens of rivalry. But you didn’t care; you were confident in your relationship.
Draco, too, was evolving. Being with you softened some of his rougher edges and gave him a new perspective on Hogwarts and the people in it. He still had his moments of arrogance, but with you by his side, he was learning to let go of some of the prejudices he’d grown up with.
One snowy afternoon, as the two of you strolled around the courtyard, you watched as he stopped to help a younger Hufflepuff who had dropped her books. The old Draco would have ignored her, but now, he gave her a nod and a small smile.
“You’re changing,” you said softly, watching him as he walked back over to you.
He shrugged, a faint blush on his cheeks. “I guess I have you to thank for that.”
“You’re welcome,” you replied, grinning up at him. It was moments like these that made you feel truly proud of the choice you’d made.
In your sixth year, Draco took you to the Astronomy Tower after hours, the stars glittering above as he held you close. You had shared countless moments together, but this one felt special.
“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this,” he said, his voice low and serious, “but I used to think that love was... a weakness. I thought it made people vulnerable.”
You looked at him, surprised. “And now?”
“Now, I think it’s the bravest thing anyone can do,” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours. “Loving someone is… well, it’s trusting them completely. And I trust you.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you realized that this was exactly where you were meant to be — by Draco’s side, building a future together.
For the first time, Hogwarts didn’t feel like a battleground of family expectations or house rivalries. It felt like home.
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Lily. Is she just a popular Petunia? On the surface they’re two sisters that could hardly be more different, the elder unattractive, dull and untalented and the younger beautiful, vivacious and magical. But they both chose domineering upper class bullies. They’re both concerned with social respectability. They both place themselves in physical danger for their sons. And while I can’t see Lily shoving a child in a cupboard, she also seems to operate within the framework that violence is acceptable if she can justify to herself the victim deserves it. Lily gets called a Mary Sue a lot and I get why but I think JKR put just enough in there to make the case that that she’s as grey as her chosen company lol
This take on Lily as a “popular Petunia” gains even more depth when we consider their working-class backgrounds and how each ultimately chooses a partner who offers social mobility—though in questionable ways. Petunia finds security and an upward social shift by marrying Vernon, a man who embodies traditional middle-class respectability with all its rigid, judgmental values. Lily, on the other hand, ends up with James Potter, who, by magical standards, is akin to a wealthy, privileged elite. James’s status, confidence, and the power that comes with his family’s legacy mark a clear jump for Lily in the wizarding social hierarchy, just as Petunia’s life with Vernon marks a leap into conventional middle-class security in the Muggle world.
Both sisters align themselves with men who embody aspects of control and social status within their respective worlds, suggesting they value security and social respectability—even if it means overlooking or accepting certain flaws. Petunia tolerates Vernon’s small-mindedness and cruelty, while Lily accepts James despite his past as a bully and privileged figure. Yet Lily’s decision is often portrayed in a highly idealized way, with Rowling rarely delving into her motivations or background beyond her role as Harry’s mother. This lack of context is perhaps one of the biggest issues with Lily’s character: she’s preserved as an almost saintly maternal figure, untouchable and morally pure, which can feel one-dimensional and even hypocritical, especially when we learn about her past friendship with Snape. Rowling’s reluctance to explore Lily’s complexity leaves her moral standing somewhat hollow, given that she rejects Snape for his darker choices while forgiving James for his own troubling traits.
In the end, both Lily and Petunia are driven by a desire for social respectability and stability, but their different worlds shape those ambitions in distinct ways. By elevating Lily to an untouchable status as Harry’s “perfect” mother, Rowling misses the chance to flesh out the complexities that make her choices relatable, instead framing her as a near-flawless martyr. This leaves her character feeling almost like a “Mary Sue” figure, unable to reconcile the murkiness of her past or the double standards within her relationships.
#lily evans#lily potter#petunia evans#petunia dursley#vernon dursley#james potter#severus snape#harry potter#harry potter meta#harry potter analysis#harry potter headcanons
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danganronpa DISCO STYLE
ive seen people put mouthwashing and persona over disco elysium portraits so now its my turn to get nerdy with it
finished it the other week and holy shit what a game. cant stop thinking of those silly old detectives. my favs are cuno, cindy, and those church lads as well. theyre found family. the art style was kinda tough to grasp but it was super fun to do! i locked the fuck in on sonia
also symbolism description:
the scratchy/smudged background behind hajime symbolizes his fragmented mind as izuru, along with his generally stressed state within the killing game, but the bright halo behind his head symbolizes determination and levelheadedness to match his serious expression, along with a light on the right side combatting the shade on the opposite end, representing hope versus despair.
fuyuhiko's portrait is murky and stained with what resembles blood, along with an ominous shadow to represent his general brooding and rude attitude, but the bright light behind him symbolizes change and the hidden kindness and bravery inside of him that he grows to find.
sonia's portrait is soft and pale, akin to her personality; the blue smudges represent serenity, the yellow & white smudges represent loyalty and kindness, while the red panel sticks out the most to symbolize authority & strength above all else, to reflect not just her duties as a princess but her bold and bright personality.
akane's portrait is dusty/gloomy to symbolize her traumatic childhood along with the black rectangle to match it, but the blood-red tendrils also symbolize her brutal strength to spite that fact. along with that, she is not entirely casted in a dark shadow but a more neutral light, with brighter highlights to represent her high spirits, dominance and confidence on top of it. plus, she's still smiling! which may be because of total obliviousness and denial, or just because she's that positive lol
kazuichi's portrait holds his signature colors (magenta+yellow) but is smudged with what resembles oil melting over his body, and despite the fact that he's smiling, his expression is awkward and forced, his eyebrows permanently furrowed, lacking any confidence to show that he's clearly breaking. these factors represent his cowardly personality, how easily his composure cracks under any kind of pressure, even though he always tries to play it off cool.
and yes i did take inspiration from harry du bois on that one. the ... expression ...
#bongo art#art#digital art#illustration#danganronpa#sdr2#super danganronpa 2#danganronpa 2#danganronpa 2 goodbye despair#fuyuhiko kuzuryu#hajime hinata#sonia nevermind#kazuichi soda#kazuichi souda#akane owari
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So I've been on Etsy, looking at wands. Specifically Sebastian Sallow's wand, because a girl gotta add to her collection, and her is something I've noticed -
Sebastian's wand is noticeably shorter than Ominis'.
Wand length is Harry Potter means a few things. A very tall person may have a longer wand, or a toad like person may have the shortest wand I've ever seen (Umbridge). But length also says something about character.
One thing I noticed was when I look at Ominis' wand, I'm reminded of Draco Malfoy's wand. Neat with not to much added on to it. Ominis' wand is actually more black than Draco Malfoy's wand, and as we now know, a little bit longer than Sebastian's wand.
Sebastian's wand on the other hand, is not like any I've seen before. Yes, we've seen wand woods in that color before, but not with that kind of handle.
Ominis' wand is plain black, while Sebastian's has all sorts of different colors and metals. It looks like green marble on the handle. It's also quite clear from the pricing, that Sebastian's wand takes a lot more to make.
So what can we say about Sebastian and Ominis, based on the wands?
Ominis is very refined my character. We actually rarely see him use any magic, and when we do, it's mainly for guiding himself around the school. Other than in the catacomb with the inferi, and when you choose him as a companion with companion mod, I actually don't think I've every heard Ominis say a spell. So I decided to look up videos of Ominis casting spells, and I noticed right away how calmly he says them. It's so quite and calm, that I hadn't noticed it before now. Speaks volumes to how confident Ominis might be in his own strength and abilities, that he doesn't need to yell them out loud
We know nothing about the true length of his wand, nor the felxibility, wand wood or core, so all of this is just speculation.
Sebastian's wand is quite interesting. Not is not neat as Ominis' wands, and does say a lot about their different upbringings. But with the many details of Sebastian's wand, I think the length speaks more of what he lacks/his insecurities, instead of his personality as a whole. Because what is wand lacks in length, is made up for in details.
Sebastian is the stereotypical insecure teen boy, who needs some sort of power or control to feel comfortable. Power and control he does not have naturally, and will therefore have to teach himself. His defence is his charm - probably something he has build up, in order to hide the parts of him he's not too sure or proud about.
Compared to Ominis, Sebastian is a little bit louder when casting spells. It's not that he yells them out all the time, but it's louder and you notice it. Which is a funny contrast between their NPCs roaming around the castle. Find Ominis, and he speaks to you. Find Sebastian, and he says nothing.
In conclusion, Ominis is much more relaxed in himself. You would expect him to be much more closed off and insecure. And though he is a bit closed off, he's not that insecure. He is the one with a family or a dark nature, and though it makes him uncomfortable, he is very firm in his beliefs, which does not aline with his family.
Sebastian on the other hand, is not relaxed in himself, whatsoever. I would even go so far as to say, that he is never relaxed, and almost living in a constant state of tension. Sebastian is insecure in his own abilities, and without his sister being there as a comforting and nurturing support, he might as well be ticking time bomb.
It's while writing this, that I start to wonder, how on earth Sebastian and Ominis managed to become such close friends in the first place. Yes, they're both "loners" when we meet them, but there was a time when Sebastian wasn't a loner. He had his sister. But more on that another day.
#hogwarts legacy#harry potter#harry potter hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy sebastian#hogwarts legacy sebastian sallow#sebastian sallow#harry potter sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy theory#harry potter hogwarts game#sebastian sallow theories#ominis gaunt#harry potter ominis gaunt#hogwarts legacy ominis
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Coming in hot with a Natty appreciation post ❤️
Wall of text below the cut
I love Natty. She's my brave, frustrating, badass girl, and while the writing for her storyline lacked somewhat in comparison to the other companions, much of the discourse I see around her is so negative - it has really been disappointing to see the kinds of things people say about her. She doesn't have to be your favorite. I'm not saying you have to love her. But you can actually prefer Sebastian and Poppy without disparaging Natsai. You can also critique her without resorting to making fun of her voice or accent. Give her a chance and consider her dialogue and her actions, and you might gain some more appreciation for her.
She is a peak Gryffindor and here are some reasons why I love her, including her flaws:
Friendly, kind, and empathetic: with her experience being the new student the previous year, she knows how scary it can be and she's quick to offer you a place to sit on your first day of class, then readily shares her book with you when she sees you don't have one. She even gives you advice during Summoners Court when you're playing against her, and isn't upset if you win. She tells you she was actually planning on asking you to Hogsmeade with her if you choose her as your guide. She wants you to feel welcomed right away and wants to get to know you.
Brave, powerful, and reckless: just like Sebastian, she jumps in to help you fight a troll without a second thought on her first day knowing you, and she's a strong duelist both in Crossed Wands and on your missions with her. She is ready and willing to gather evidence on her own while you go save a host of beasts from poachers the second she finds out a Hippogriff that means something to you is in danger. She sticks her nose into business she shouldn’t and doesn’t consider the reality of the dangers she’s getting herself into (a very Harry Potter trait.) But would you really rather have her be without flaw? Sounds boring. Ultimately she doesn’t ever let fear stop her from acting to protect others - don't forget she dives in front of the Cruciatus curse for you! She's a damn good friend to have by your side.
Proud and confident but can still be humble and open to change: she is happy to share some interesting information about Uagadou if you choose to ask her and she has pride in both her magical abilities and where she came from. She's confident in Summoner's Court but acknowledges afterward that it took her a while to gain that skill. She also admits she likes the drama of using a wand and she's grown to appreciate Hogwarts and Scotland (except in winter, which who can blame her? it's cold!)
Talented: to name just a few examples, she can cast wandless magic, Weasley calls her out as one of the best students in school, and let's not forget she's an animagus by age 15 - we know from the Harry Potter books that is no small feat and very few people actually achieve the ability.
Strong morals and ideals, stubbornly so: she is a pure heart and wants to take down the bad guys so nobody has to suffer the same way she did as a young girl. Can you really begrudge her youthful idealism? While her motivations are a bit muddy because she has no solid personal connection to Harlow or Rookwood, she is ultimately looking at the bigger picture and striving to make the world a better, safer place. Like Sebastian and Poppy, she won't let anyone talk her out of her ideals and remains undeterred in her belief that what she's doing is right, regardless of the dangers involved. While it shouldn't be up to two teenagers to clear out a criminal organization, in the end, she and you actually do get Harlow arrested finally, no thanks to the utterly useless Officer Singer, so Natty kinda had a point.
Loving and emotional: she is emotionally open with you and isn't afraid to ask for support from a friend while she's suffering from grief and guilt about her father. She isn’t embarrassed to tell you that you’ve inspired her to stand up to power, or how much your friendship means to her. Despite her frustrations, she loves her mother deeply, and she misses her father with all her heart.
Rebellious and independent: similar to Garreth, she has a guardian whom she feels is suffocating her. She wants to roam freely in her animagus form and explore her new home on her own, but her mother is worried about her safety (fair) and the closer Professor Onai clings, the more it pushes Natty to act out. She wants to challenge the system which is allowing Rookwood to strut around Hogsmeade like he owns the place when he should be in prison, and takes matters into her own hands when the authorities fail to act. Nothing more punk and badass than fighting the man and getting shit done.
Pretty, cute, tall: really, seriously look at her! Big Brown EyesTM and lashes for days. Freckles! Need I go on? (I will anyway.) Her profile. That cute little curl in the front of her hair, and from the back her hairstyle looks like a flower. I also recently noticed she is slightly taller than the female MC (tall girls need more love in media) and I can imagine them and Poppy being a cute witch trio of different heights. I also think her awkward smiles are endearing.
Lovely, soothing voice: I find her voice to be very soft and personally, I could listen to her talk all day. Her VA, Jessica Hayles, put so much emotion into her lines, and did you know she also voices three other characters: Nellie Oggspire, Charlotte Morrison, and Hyacinth Olivier? I have huge respect for a VA who can do multiple accents and change their voice to be so distinct for each character that I would've had no idea if I hadn't looked it up.
If anyone actually read all of this just know that I appreciate you deeply
#this has been my ted talk#natty appreciation#natty onai#natsai onai#hogwarts legacy natty#strong female character#natty onai screenshots#hogwarts legacy screenshots#hogwarts legacy photo mode#accio natty#my screenshots
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One For The Road [1]
Cecil Dennis x AFAB!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals• masterlist • ao3• want to be tagged? • request info • ko-fi •
Series Masterlist
Summary: Cecil forgets he invited you over.
A/N: The biggest thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for beta reading this and fixing some of my British-isms <3 I owe you my life!
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, weed use, fleshlights, Cecil talking about 'Catcher In The Rye', fingering, Cecil coming in his pants, please let me know if I've missed a warning!
Word Count: 3404
You Sit and Talk to Me on the Floor
You lean back against the sofa, getting comfortable as your high pleasantly buzzes in the back of your head.
You’d been pretty pissed when you’d got here and Harry was nowhere to be found. (You, him and Cecil and Harry’s new girlfriend Mary-Ann, who you hadn’t met yet, had plans to hang out and watch a film. Or at least that’s what Cecil had told you.) He’d grinned when he’d opened the door, “What are you doing here?”
Turns out he’d been high (unsurprising) when he’d messaged and asked you. And had promptly forgotten all about it without letting Harry or Mary-Ann know.
And now Harry was ‘working’. Or something. Cecil wasn’t exactly clear.
Ever since he’d been dumped by his girlfriend Cecil had been staying with his cousin to ‘get back on his feet’, or more correctly, ‘make a mess, panic, tidy the house in a crazy rush to a standard that would put a professional kitchen to shame and then repeat’.
He’d apologised for a good fifteen minutes when he realised his mistake, and had offered you a brownie as he ushered you inside.
“Is there weed in this?”
He stared at you like you’d grown an extra head. “It’s a brownie.”
“You know pot isn’t a standard ingredient, right?”
He’d pulled a face that made you laugh. “What’s the point in that?”
.
Cecil sits on the floor, leaning against the sofa and lolling his head back as he talks to you, “I’m really glad you came actually, sorry again,” he smiles shyly, “I was kinda lonely.”
“You can hire people for that.” You tease and he snorts.
“No, that’s not what I mean. Besides,” he shrugs, “I’m broke.”
You giggle, finding it far funnier than you normally would.
He grins and takes a swig of his beer before another hit from his bong.
“How many brownies did you have?” You ask, interested, you’d only had one.
“Two… and a half.”
“And you’re smoking too?”
“Yeah? I mean,” he puffs up his chest proudly, “I got a high tolerance.”
“If there were an olympics in getting high you’d probably get a gold.”
“I definitely would get a gold, I bet they used to have that, weed consuming, in the olympics I mean. They used to have poetry and people competing naked and everything, and then it got ruined.”
“With clothes or lack of poems?” You smile.
“Both.” He nods confidently. “Though maybe some clothes is a good idea…” He ponders for a moment, “I bet if you run and you got no pants on your dick just,” he flops his hand around like crazy and you giggle, “I mean, that would hurt. And boobs!”
“Boobs?” You wheeze out.
“Yeah, I bet some boobs would hurt too, you need those high impact bras and all that.”
“How do you know about that?” You run your hand through his hair absentmindedly, he always did have such soft, rich curls.
“I’m a guy of knowledge, you know. I know many things.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Like what then?”
He leans a little into your touch, smiling as you stroke his hair. “Erm, I know that this,” he taps the part of the sofa he’s leaning against, “is called a sofa skirt.”
“Is not.”
“Is too.” He grins at you when you poke out your tongue. “I know the sky’s blue because of Rayleigh scattering-”
“What’s Rayleigh scattering?”
“Why the sky is blue.”
“Cecil…” You roll your eyes playfully and he giggles.
“Okay, okay, it’s to do with light particles and how they,” he waves his hand to the side making a buzzing noise, “move about when they’re in a wavelength.”
“How do you know that?”
He shrugs, “I dunno. Just do. Something stuck once I guess.”
You nod, “Pretty impressive skill.”
“Nah,” he shakes his head, “I don’t control what sticks, I’ve literally read every single math book I ever could on how to do algebra when I was in high school and nothing.” He pauses and then smiles, “I can quote Catcher in the Rye to you though.”
“What?” You shift a little, leaning closer. “Like the whole thing?”
“Mostly,” he shrugs again but he puffs his chest out, obviously pleased at your interest. “But I guess I could just be making it up if you don’t know it word for word and don’t have a copy in front of you.”
“I trust you.” You say kindly and he beams.
“Well, okay, look, first paragraph, because it’s easy,” he swallows and clears his throat.
“If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.” He puts on a voice as he speaks, at first it’s jokey as he tries to poke a little fun at himself, but as he continues it relaxes, becomes more like he’s inhabiting the voice of the character.
“That’s very, very cool.” You grin and he smiles shyly, looking down at his hands before taking another hit. “Yeah, well, doesn’t help much.”
“You like Catcher in the Rye?”
He nods. “Got an A+ on that report.” He grins, “I always thought it was sad, you know? The story I mean. Just a kid trying to be an adult because that’s what society implies, when really he just wants to be… you know… enjoy his childhood.” He nods a little. “I like that his little sister is more mature than him, that he has this innocence to him. That even though the story is about a loss of that, in the end, I dunno, I don’t think it fully happened.”
You incline your head, staying quiet so he’ll continue.
“I mean, I think he’s still innocent. Still playing at being an adult. Like everyone is.” He shrugs, shaking his head. “But whatever.”
You give his shoulder a light shove, “But whatever? Cec,” you lean forward, your hand still in his hair, “that’s so good, like insightful.” You say sincerely.
He gives you a bashful smile, his eyelashes fluttering a little as you compliment him. “Yeah, you know, thanks.” There’s the smallest flush to his cheeks. “You’re so smart and everything so that means a lot.”
“Cec,” you say softly, shaking your head, “you gotta think better of yourself.”
He nods halfheartedly.
“Really, you got to, you…” You pause, trailing off as something catches the light and inadvertently, your eye. It’s shoved to the side, on the floor between the right hand side of the sofa and the wall.
Cecil looks around to where you’re staring, mildly interested for a moment before his eyes widen. “Oh, shit, sorry!” He goes to push it further under the couch and out of sight but doesn’t reach far enough and ends up falling onto his side and flailing about.
“Is that what I think it is?” You giggle, unable to stop yourself.
“Erm…” He looks up at you, trying his best to give you a winning smile from the floor. “That depends on what you think it is?” His voice is hopeful.
“A flesh light?”
He groans and puts his hand dramatically over his face.
You laugh harder.
“Ugh.”
“It is?” You ask excitedly, unsure why this is amusing you quite so much.
“Mhmmm.”
“Yours?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my goooooood,” you lean down and ruffle his hair until he has to take his hand off his face to bat you away and starts laughing, “Cecil getting it on in the living rooooooom.”
“No!” He lies.
“Ohhhhh, is that what you were doing before I got here?” The glee in your voice is palpable. “Is that why it took you so long to answer the door?”
“Stop.” He tries to pout but keeps laughing. “I hadn’t got that far yet.”
“Yet?”
“You came over! That’s more important than jacking off.”
You snort loudly. “I’m honoured.”
He pulls a playful face and lightly smacks your calf.
“I wouldn’t have stopped having a wank just because you came over.” You joke and Cecil bursts into hysterics.
He manages to calm down long enough to spit out his next words, “I wouldn’t ask you to stop.”
“What?”
“If you wanted to get down and whatever, that’s fine, I’d just hang in the kitchen.”
It’s your turn to have a laughing fit. “Oh, you’re so slimy.” You tease, adjusting your skirt as you move.
“No, no,” he sits up, still giggling, his cheeks flush. “I wouldn’t watch or listen, I’m not being a perv.”
“Sure, sure.”
“Hey! I don’t need to spy on people, I can, you know.”
“What?” You grin.
“See it on the TV whenever.”
You start laughing again. You had been expecting a bit of macho, ‘I can pick up willing partners whenever I want to’, not ‘I’ll watch some porn’.
“Yeah?” You prod him in the arm playfully.
“Yeah.” He nods, “that’s what I was doing before you came over.”
“Oh, good to know.” You chuckle. Part of you knows it’s the weed that’s making you a little less guarded than you usually were, but you can’t help yourself. “What were you watching then?”
“Well, I hadn’t decided yet.” He shrugs, but he’s grinning, obviously quite happy to talk with you about this. “I was having a look.”
“On what?”
“PornHub,” he shuffles towards the TV on his knees and grabs the remote and then his phone. “I cast it, see,” the screen mirrors his phone as he scrolls through. “I was just browsing.”
“You say that so casually.” You goad him playfully.
“Yeah, well, I mean why not? Most people look at porn.”
You nod.
“Don’t you?” He asks, quite innocently as he cocks his head to the side.
Heat rushes under your skin. “Well, erm, yeah, I mean.”
He grins, but not in a gloating way, more pleased that you’re both sharing something.
“What, erm,” you squirm a little, feeling foolish and trying to push the focus back to him. “What do you normally watch?”
“Like porn wise?”
“Mmhmmm.”
He grins, “lots actually, my tastes are very varied.” He says like he’s talking about wine. “Sometimes two girls, sometimes a guy and a girl, sometimes two guys, sometimes a group. Sometimes just someone by themselves.” He shrugs and looks up at you, when he sees you’re still listening he swallows and continues, “I got a favourite.”
You nod, your mouth dry.
“It’s two girls, erm, it’s not even like, that,” he waves his hands, “it’s just, it’s quieter, I guess? They sound more… natural. Like it’s not being put on for show, and they got like, these suits. It’s not like latex or anything, not that there’s a problem with that, it’s sort of like body suits, skin tight, but hands are free, and boobs, and,” he motions to his crotch, “down there, and… they sort of… like just…” his face reddens a little more. “They, rub together in like missionary and come and… and it just sounds so nice. They look like they’re really enjoying it.”
He looks up at you again and fidgets, his eyes dark.
The nervous expression, the flush to his cheeks shouldn’t be endearing, shouldn’t make you feel a twist of heat in your stomach.
“I could… show you?” He says quietly, like he’s trying to tiptoe around something else.
You find yourself nodding once, saying, “Okay.” before you even realise it.
He finds it quickly on his phone and sits down next to you on the sofa, a hands width away.
You stare at the TV while looking at him from the corner of your eye.
“This reminds me of high school.” He says quietly, biting his lips together. “A group of us used to, when porn was harder to get hold of, used to like, watch it together and smoke.”
You nod, a quick reply simply not coming.
The video starts, the two women posing for the camera before they make their way to the bed.
“I used to worry,” he continues, “because sometimes weed makes me really horny.” He shrugs, flinching inwardly at why he said that.
“I get that.” You swallow.
One woman climbs on top of the other.
“You do?” He asks.
“Yeah,” why are you speaking, why can’t you just shut up? “The horny thing.”
“From smoking or watching porn?” He asks innocently.
“Both, I guess.”
He hums, nodding. “Me too.”
You both continue to watch for a moment in an odd silence, the air is thick with an oppressive weight. You want to look at him again, want to see his soft eyes and plump lips.
Cecil shifts a little, fidgeting once before he pushes the heel of his hand against his leg and… wait… not his leg.
His erection is straining against his jeans.
You can’t help but look, going over the shape and outline and- You freeze. He’s looking right at you.
“Sorry.” He gives you a sheepish smile as if he was the one that had been caught perving. “Guess it’s a bit more obvious on me.” He jokes, but the tips of his ears still flush.
“No, yeah, I mean…” you stumble over your words, trying to fill the gaps as the moans from the TV grow louder and… they did sound like they were having fun. “I mean,” you swallow and start again, “I, if I had a dick, you’d see it,” you motion your hand upright.
“Yeah?”
You nod.
“Not just saying that to make me feel better?” He asks, gently nudging you in the shoulder.
“No… I would.”
He gives you a sweet look, but it’s still disbelieving.
“Cecil, I’m not lying.”
“I don’t know…”
“Why would I lie?”
“You’re too nice all the time, it’s not lying it’s ‘sparing my feelings’.” He motions with his hands.
“Well, I’m not,” you fold your arms. “I’m being truthful.”
“Okay.”
“Cecil.”
“I said okay,” he teases. “I’m agreeing with you.”
“But you don’t believe me.”
He nods. “That’s true.”
You huff air through your nose, exasperated. “I’m not lying.”
“Sure.”
“There’s no point to me lying.” Your voice raises a little at the end, which only makes it sound more like you are lying.
“Okay.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
He laughs, “just because you’re a dirty and bad liar, doesn’t mean-”
You don’t know why you do it, but you grab a hold of his hand and press it forcefully between your legs. “See?” Your voice sounds sure of itself, like a gloat. But your mind is just only catching up with your actions. And the sensation of Cecil’s warm, thick fingers against your core.
You’re wearing a skirt, the only thing separating your skin from his is the thin material of your panties which are undoubtedly damp.
“Oh,” he breathes, his cock twitches. “Yeah, you’re…”
You freeze, still holding his hand against you. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
His fingers brush a little against the cotton. The action takes you by surprise and much to your dismay a weak gasp leaves your lips.
He glances up to your face as you keep your eyes closed, screwing them shut to avoid his gaze. But seemingly he finds what he was looking for.
He moves his fingers again, a little firmer this time, tracing a soft circle against your clit and you shudder.
There’s a pause, a fraction of a second as he waits for you to stop him, to tell him no.
You don’t.
So he does it again, and again, and again until you’re squirming. Your breath is coming out fast as your hips shallowly move in time with his fingers.
He inches closer to you, pressing his chest against your shoulder and resting his forehead on your temple.
Cecil moans softly in your ear as you whine, your lip between your bottom teeth as you watch the two women fuck on screen without really seeing.
He slowly presses on the damp patch, rubs along your core before he slips your underwear to the side and touches you lightly.
You jolt, gasping, turning your head to press your forehead to his.
He groans as he traces his forefinger along your slit, marvelling at the slick that coats the tip of his finger before he lightly pinches your clit.
“Cecil,” you breathe.
“It’s okay,” he mutters, kissing your cheek and then your lips gently, “it’s okay, it’s just a friend helping another one out. Just helping…” He drapes his free arm around your shoulders, his fingers mirroring the pattern of his other hand on your arm.
He kisses you again, soft and sweet as he lightly teases you with the tip of his tongue.
The second you part your lips he inhales deeply, angling his hand and pushing two fingers deep inside while flicking your clit with his thumb.
You gasp, your moans music to his ears as he kisses you wantonly as he curls and strokes your walls.
“Oh, god, you’re really wet,” he bites his lip, grunting as he presses closer, curls deeper until you’re bucking and practically sobbing. “Really tight, mmm, feel so nice inside.” He mumbles, not really registering what he’s saying as he pants in your ear. “Thank you for letting me, oh,” he shivers as you whine, grabbing hold of any part of him you can reach and clinging on, silently begging him to continue.
“Is that good? Is that where it’s nice?” He swallows, stroking the same spongy spot again and groaning when your thighs quiver.
You nod rapidly and he coos, “oh good, good, mmm,” he kisses your neck, breathing deeply to fill his lungs with your scent. “God, so nice and warm, bet you got the cutest little pussy? Fuck.” He groans, moving so he can rub his crotch against your thigh, “you’ll let me look sometime? I would love to see it, bet it’s so sweet.”
Your eyes roll back, your muscles tensing as he keeps moving, keeps pulling you closer to that edge. Your moans are overshadowing the sounds of the TV, the squelch of his fingers fucking you relentlessly bouncing around the room.
You can hardly think, hardly form words, your mind obsessed with the reaction that all consuming pleasure that is so, so near.
“Bet it’s the prettiest pussy I’ll ever see,” he groans, the friction of his jeans burning deliciously against his cock as he rubs himself over your thigh, making him lightheaded. Being near you is making him lightheaded. The fact that you’ve let him touch you, and be in you is dizzying and those sounds you’re making are enough to make him come on the spot. Right now, so close. Just a tiny little more friction and-
You clench around his fingers, crying out as your orgasm is pulled expertly from you. Cecil whines, keeps moving his thick fingers in that blinding pattern and pressure, as he follows you instantly. Your blissed out expression driving him clean over the edge.
You shiver, your thighs shaking as you come, as the pleasure seems to stretch onwards and as Cecil moans softly in your ear.
You both breathe, Cecil’s fingers still inside you as you stroke a hand through his hair. A wet patch starts to bleed into his boxers, but he doesn’t care. Not when you’re so close and he feels so happy.
He opens his mouth to speak and-
There’s a key in the lock, and the front door opens. You both jump, moving away from each other to the opposite ends of the sofa as Harry comes back.
You feel oddly empty without his touch, without his fingers buried inside.
Harry pokes his head around before he comes into the room, he looks at the bong and beer and porn still playing on the TV. “You guys started the party without me?” He kids.
You laugh, not entirely convincing.
“Cecil, man, what’re you doing showing off your porn playlist huh?” Harry jokes and Cecil shrugs.
He’s using his forearm to cover any signs of his softening erection and wet patch, while he dangles his other hand off the arm of the sofa, out of Harry’s sight. Where his cousin can’t see how he rubs his slick covered fingers together.
Thank you for reading!
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To Live Without !¡ Wolfstar x reader
—
Warnings !¡ Death, angst, you have kids, abrupt and rushed ending
A/N !¡ sorry sorry sorry sorry
Staring at a blank canvas was debilitatingly boring. Since Lily and James had passed away, Sirius had been trying to pick up new hobbies. “James was good at painting,” he thought, but now he doesn’t understand how he did it so often and so well. It was as if the canvas was mocking him and his talents– or supposed lack thereof.
It wasn’t that he didn’t have any talents, it was that he wasn’t good at picking up any hobbies. In your eyes, he had many talents. He could sing (often to put you or the kids to sleep), spoke three languages, and was the best spellcaster you knew.
He could paint, you were confident of it, but he just didn’t know what to do or how to put it on the canvas. The paint was drying on his pallet by the time you finally drew him out of the haze he was in. “Dinner is ready, my love.”
He sighs before standing up, looking away from the canvas for the first time in hours. Only he knew what was going through his mind as he stared, and you made a mental note to ask him about it later. Surely, it wasn’t a conversation to be had around the three little ones.
Remus stumbles out of the hallway holding Harry in his arms, the small bit of hair he had was damp and messy. “All cleaned up,” Remus says, setting him down in his high chair, before taking a seat himself. You thank him, serving everyone their plates.
With James and Lily gone, all of you were left with Harry while Dumbledore decided where Harry would be the safest due to the inevitable attacks from angry death eaters. Of course, the three of you wanted to keep him in the wizarding world with you. Where he could grow up around family.
Sirius thought it his duty to continue to take care of Harry– it’s what he believed his best friend would have wanted, but you all knew Dumbledore would come up with another idea sooner or later.
The kids were the only noise at the table during dinner. Usually, it would be loud– everyone trying to say their peace at once, eventually silenced by whoever got sick of the noise first. But now, it was a whole different ball game. Sirius was tired– more so depressed but didn’t speak a word unless spoken to. Remus wasn’t sure how to handle this, so he stayed quiet, too.
“At least the babies are happy,” you thought.
The twins were wearing the pajamas Lily had gotten them last Christmas. She always thought it was cute when they matched, and even though you always called it tacky, you dressed them up to see her smile widen at the sight of them.
Sometimes she made a point to have Harry match as well, especially on holidays and birthdays. Even if it meant he was wearing unicorns and rainbows on his chest. Remus would laugh at the sight of a baby boy adorned in all pink. “I think the twins’s princess dresses would look good on him, don’t you?” he would say.
But now Harry had on his usual nighttime onesie, and the girls wore their pajamas. Remus had thought about dressing him up after his bath but knew better than to stir up any more heavy emotions. Of course, the little ones wouldn’t notice the difference, but that wasn’t his worry.
Word had spread that Sirius was the one to give away the Potter’s location. You were all sure James and Lily were angry at this, wherever they were, but now, there was nothing either of them could do about it. A dead man's word is nothing but a silent scream to those trying to listen.
Dumbledore thought it would be best to put all of you into hiding as well, but Sirius wasn’t going to let that happen. “We’re not cowards, Albus,” he said. “We can hold our own.”
You were sure this anger only came from a place of grief, but you couldn’t argue against him. Not now, at least. Remus agreed to put protection spells around the home and extra ones around the kids’s bedrooms. They seemed to be doing their jobs, but it was only a matter of time before someone managed to break them.
What used to be one of the many highlights of your day was gone, and there was nothing you could do about it. A tear ran down your cheek, a sob emanating from your chest before the men pulled you into their arms.
Sensing the emotion, one of the girls began to cry, the other two kids following suit. Remus was the first to get up to grab the twins, Sirius following to grab Harry. You stood, tears rolling down your cheeks, and made your way over to the rest of the family, pulling them all close to you. “I love you,” you sobbed. “All of you.”
To live without James and Lily seemed like torture, but now there was no other way to live.
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