rosyrosethings - Tumblr blog

rosyrosethings · 2 months ago

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Snowed in

This is slowwww burn. Enemies to lovers. I love a good slow burn

7k+ words

Y/N’s breath puffed into the frozen air as she slammed her car door shut, the sound echoing across the quiet clearing. Snow crunched beneath her boots as she stepped forward, scarf pulled tighter around her neck, eyes lifting toward the cabin nestled between towering pines.

It was bigger than she expected—three stories of rich timber and stone, with a wraparound porch and smoke curling lazily from the chimney. Warm golden light spilled from the windows, glowing like a promise against the cold gray sky. It would’ve been the perfect winter escape—if he wasn’t coming.

She sighed sharply, her breath fogging up her glasses. Of course Harry Styles was coming. Of course he had to be part of this.

The group trip had sounded great in theory: a week in a mountain cabin with friends, no work, just snow, booze, board games, and long mornings in pajamas. Y/N had needed the break—desperately. And it might’ve been just what she needed, if it weren’t for the single walking migraine that came bundled with dimples and a British accent.

Harry Styles was a menace. A flirty, smug, utterly infuriating headache of a man who lived to push her buttons. He always knew just what to say, what look to give, how to hover one second too long. Every interaction was a tug-of-war—one he acted like he was enjoying a little too much. She swore he only said her name like that—low and drawn out—just to make her skin crawl.

And worse? It worked.

She’d made sure to arrive first. If she had to be stuck here all week, she’d at least claim the best room. Hoisting her duffel bag onto one shoulder, she trudged up the porch stairs and brushed snow from her sleeves. The front door creaked open with a gentle push—unlocked, just like Mitch promised.

Inside, the cabin was warm and still, filled with the soft glow of firelight and the scent of cedar. Thick beams crossed the ceiling, a stone fireplace crackled quietly at the far end of the room, and plush rugs softened the dark wood floors. She stepped in slowly, letting the quiet settle over her like a blanket. For just a moment, it was perfect.

Then the front door flew open behind her with a burst of icy air.

“Don’t tell me you beat me here,” called a voice that made her jaw tighten on instinct.

She didn’t even need to look. She knew that voice.

Harry Styles stepped inside like he owned the place, snow dusting his boots and curls poking out from beneath a black beanie. His cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, eyes bright and full of mischief. That stupid, irresistible grin was already on his face.

“Unfortunately,” she muttered without turning around.

“Wow,” he said, unzipping his coat. “You came early. That’s cute. Trying to set up booby traps before I arrive?”

“Actually, I came early so I wouldn’t have to see your face for a few hours.”

He let out a laugh that was far too delighted. “God, you missed me.”

“I missed peace.”

Harry strolled farther in, glancing around like he was already rating the decor. “You know, the more you insult me, the more I’m convinced you dream about me at night.”

“I don’t dream about clowns.”

He raised a brow. “That’s weird. I dream about you sometimes.”

Y/N turned slowly, fixing him with a glare. “You’re disgusting.”

“And yet,” he said, gesturing around them with mock innocence, “here you are. Sharing a roof with me.”

Before she could snap back, her phone buzzed so did Harry’s . Then again. Then a third time. She pulled it out and opened the group chat.

Dan: Roads are closing—storm’s worse than they predicted Lauren: They won’t let us past the ranger checkpoint Mitch: They’re putting us up at this little lodge halfway up the mountain Jessica: We’ll have to wait out the storm, prob can’t get to the cabin tonight Dan: You guys hold it down. Try not to kill each other Lauren: Or worse... hook up lol Y/N: I hope the snow swallows you all

She stared at the screen. Then slowly looked up. Harry was already grinning. “You have got to be kidding me.” She said under her breath.

“Just us,” he said, arms outstretched like it was a dream come true. “In a beautiful, secluded cabin. Four bedrooms. And yet, I know you’ll still find ways to bump into me.”

“In your dreams.”

Harry waggled his eyebrows. “Exactly.”

Y/N groaned and turned for the stairs. “I’m claiming the biggest room.”

“Already did.”

She froze. “Excuse me?”

“I was here first,” he said, smug. “Technically. I parked in the back, took the back stairs. My bag’s already on the bed. Mountain view, window seat, king bed. Super cozy.”

“You sneaky little—”

“Now, now,” he said, holding up his hands like he was diffusing a bomb. “Still three other bedrooms left. Unless, of course... you want to share?”

She turned slowly, her glare sharp enough to cut glass. “I’d rather eat a blue jean jacket.”

He burst out laughing as she stormed up the stairs.

Y/N flung open the second bedroom door with more force than necessary. It wasn’t as big as the master, but it would do—queen bed, soft blankets, a little window with a snow-covered view. Most importantly, it was far enough away from Harry’s room that she wouldn’t have to hear him breathing.

She tossed her bag onto the bed and sat down, still bundled in her coat. Outside, the snow was falling faster now—thick, heavy flakes swirling in the wind. It was almost hypnotic, the way it danced through the air, piling higher along the porch and creeping up the trees.

They weren’t going anywhere tonight. That much was clear.

She had just finished unpacking when it happened.

Click.

The heater cut off.

A strange silence followed—no humming refrigerator, no subtle buzz of electricity. Just the low crackle of the fire from downstairs and the eerie groan of the wind pressing against the walls.

Then darkness.

Y/N paused, mid-step, her pulse skipping as the reality settled in.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, flicking the light switch a few more times.

Nothing.

From downstairs came Harry’s voice: “Power’s out!”

She rolled her eyes and shouted back, “Thanks, Sherlock!”

She quickly changed into some pjs, looking in bag for some kind of light source besides her phone to save battery.

Nothing.

Just a book, a portable charger, Yarn, and her pride.

The wind howled again, louder now, rattling the window beside her like a warning. The room was already getting colder. Upstairs suddenly felt very far away from the fire—and far too close to the storm.

With a grumble, she grabbed her phone and her book and headed downstairs.

The living room was dim, lit only by the fireplace’s faint orange glow. Harry was crouched in front of it, sleeves rolled up, feeding a fresh log into the flames. Sparks popped and danced up the chimney, and the heat slowly returned to the room.

Y/N stopped at the bottom step, arms crossed over her chest.

Harry looked up. “Look who finally decided to join me.”

“It’s freezing upstairs,” she said flatly. “And I don’t feel like being trapped in a horror movie setting alone.”

“Sure. That’s why,” he said, grinning. “Not because you missed me?”

She gave him a look. “I’d rather sleep outside.”

Harry stood and brushed off his hands. “Suit yourself. But unless you want to become a human popsicle, this fire is your best friend now.”

She walked to the far end of the couch and sat down stiffly, curling her legs under her. “Don’t talk to me.”

“No promises,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen.

A few moments later, he returned with a cardboard box and a lighter. “Found these in the drawer next to the fridge. Candles.”

Y/N took them wordlessly and began lighting them one by one, placing them across the room—on the mantle, the windowsill, the coffee table. Warm golden light flickered to life in small halos, casting long shadows and softening the edges of the cabin.

The room shrank around them, cozier now, quieter.

She picked up her book, flipped to her dogeared page, and began reading. Harry dropped into the armchair closest to the fire, his long legs stretching out in front of him as he stared into the flames.

For several minutes, neither of them spoke.

Outside, the storm roared like an angry beast, but inside, all was still.

Until—

Growl.

It was faint, but unmistakable.

Y/N froze, eyes locked on the page. She tried to play it off by flipping to the next chapter like nothing happened.

Harry opened one eye. “Was that… you?”

She didn’t answer.

“That was your stomach,” he said, grinning.

“It was the wind.”

“The wind doesn’t sound hungry, Y/N.”

She snapped her book shut. “Do not start.”

Harry stood with a stretch, heading into the kitchen. “Relax. I brought food.”

“Oh good,” she called. “Protein bars and bad decisions?”

“Funny. But no,” he said, rummaging through his bag. “Tonight, we dine like kings.”

He returned with two packs of instant ramen, a small pot, and a grin that made her immediately suspicious.

“You brought ramen?”

“Laugh all you want, but I knew we’d end up needing it. Mountain weather waits for no man.”

“I’d rather starve.”

Harry shrugged and headed toward the stove. “Suit yourself. But when you faint from hunger, I’m not catching you.”

She didn’t reply—but her eyes followed him as he knelt beside the wood-burning stove, coaxing the flames higher. He looked completely in his element, sleeves pushed up, focus sharp, hands steady. It was annoying how competent he looked.

And how good.

She turned back to her book, scowling at the page like it had personally offended her.

Behind her, she heard the familiar sound of water heating. Then the soft rustle of plastic as he tore open the ramen packets.

“Just so you know,” Harry said, “I’m making two bowls. Because I know you. You’ll pretend you’re not hungry, then creep into the kitchen at midnight like a raccoon.”

“I won’t.”

“You will.”

The scent of ramen filled the room, savory and warm. Her stomach growled again.

“I’m not eating that,” she said, sharper this time.

“Didn’t say you were,” he said casually, pouring noodles into the steaming water. “But I’m placing one bowl near you and walking away. What happens after that is between you and your integrity.”

Y/N didn’t answer. But her eyes flicked toward the stove. The ramen smelled criminally good. Salty, warm, comforting in the way only cheap noodles could be when you’re snowed in, half-frozen, and pretending not to starve in front of your nemesis.

Y/N tried to ignore it.

Harry stirred the pot slowly, adding the seasoning packets like he was cooking for a five-star review. When the noodles were ready, he ladled them into two mismatched ceramic bowls and grabbed a pair of forks.

He approached the couch and, without a word, set one steaming bowl down on the coffee table in front of her.

She glanced at it.

Then back at him.

“It’s not poisoned,” he said, settling into the other end of the couch. “But if it was, honestly? I’d be impressed with myself.”

She glared. Her stomach growled again.

He wiggled his brows. “You gonna eat it or dramatically waste it to prove a point?”

Y/N let out a low groan and snatched the bowl. “I hate you.”

“You say that,” Harry said, twirling noodles onto his fork, “but you’re eating my food. Sitting in my firelight. Basking in my radiant charm.”

“Basking in your delusions.”

They both dug in, the room quiet except for the clink of forks and the soft whistle of wind outside. For a long stretch of time, they didn’t speak. Just ate. And sat. And didn’t hate it.

The silence felt different now.

Not stiff.

Not hostile.

Just… warm.

Y/N leaned back into the couch when her bowl was empty, curling the blanket tighter around her legs. Harry remained at the other end, his posture loose, gaze on the fire.

“You know,” he said, voice soft, “if this storm keeps up, I’m calling dibs on the big blanket tomorrow.”

She didn’t look over. “I’ll smother you with it.”

He chuckled, low and rough. “Sounds romantic.”

They lapsed into silence again, but this time it was laced with something unspoken.

Something new.

The fire crackled, burning low and golden. The storm continued to rage outside, but inside, it felt distant. Muted.

Eventually, Harry stood and gathered their empty bowls, placing them in the sink before returning to the couch with a heavy sigh. He dropped beside her again, lounging like it was his right.

She gave him a look. “You have your own space.”

“And yet,” he said, propping his feet on the coffee table, “this couch is cozy. Candle-lit. Warm. And you didn’t tell me to leave.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned back to her book. She flipped a page, pretending to be immersed in the story—but his presence was louder than any paragraph.

After a few minutes, he tilted his head toward her.

“What are you reading?”

She didn’t look up. “You wouldn’t care.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s not a comic or a sports article, so…”

He smirked. “You’re adorable when you’re judgmental.” She ignored that.

“Come on,” he said, nudging her with his foot. “Read it out loud.”

She glanced at him, confused. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Your voice is nice. And the wind sounds like it’s trying to eat the house. Distract me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “No.”

“You owe me.”

“For what?”

“For feeding you. I could’ve made one bowl. I made two. That’s sacrifice.”

“That’s survival.”

“Still counts.”

She sighed, long and theatrical, then flipped back to the top of the chapter. “Fine. But if you interrupt me, I stop.”

He grinned and held up both hands. “Scout’s honor.”

Y/N cleared her throat and began reading, her voice steady and calm. The flickering fire beside them cast moving shadows along the walls, and Harry leaned back, watching her with quiet interest.

For once, he didn’t interrupt.

He didn’t tease.

He just listened.

She wasn’t used to that—not from him. But something about the way he was looking at her made her cheeks warm. Made her voice wobble just slightly before she caught herself.

She read until the end of the chapter, then gently folded the corner of the page and shut the book.

“There,” she said. “Happy?”

Harry blinked slowly, like waking from a dream. “That’s where it ends?”

“Yes. Thats the end of the chapter."

“That’s criminal. Rachel’s about to ruin her life.”

“You were actually paying attention?”

“Obviously. She slept with Dex, Darcy's Fiance. There’s no turning back now.”

Y/N stared at him. “You know all their names?”

“I’m invested,” he said seriously. “You roped me into a soap opera.”

She laughed before she could stop herself—a soft, reluctant sound that made Harry smile wider.

“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered.

“And you,” he said, shifting closer, “are kind of cute when you read."

She scoffed. “You’re pushing it.”

He held out his hand. “Give me the book. I’ll read the next chapter.”

“You?”

“I have a British accent. It’ll be very dramatic.”

She rolled her eyes, but handed it over.

Harry adjusted on the couch, stretching his legs out with the book in his lap. He cleared his throat with exaggerated flair.

“Chapter Nine,” he announced in a mock-theatrical voice. “The morning after, I woke up feeling guilty… but not quite guilty enough.”

Y/N groaned, pulling the blanket over her face.

“Regret.”

“Shh. I’m reading.”

To her surprise, he wasn’t half bad. His voice, while occasionally dramatic for effect, dipped low and smooth at the right moments. His pacing was steady, and when he didn’t know a word, he rolled right through it like it didn’t matter. And it didn’t—not when he made the story sound like it belonged to him.

She peeked out from under the blanket and studied him quietly.

Harry’s curls had fallen into his face again, his lips moving softly with each line. His brow furrowed a little when the main character said something reckless. His mouth twitched into a smirk when the tension in the story spiked. He was... focused. Softened by firelight. And honestly, kind of beautiful.

Y/N blinked that thought away immediately. Nope. No. Absolutely not.

But then he stopped again—mid-sentence—and raised his brows with that familiar, knowing grin.

“Oh, this one’s good,” he said, holding the book up like it was evidence. Then he read, “‘I knew I was flirting. And I knew he was flirting back. But I also knew I wouldn’t stop.’”

Y/N groaned. “Okay, that’s enough.”

Harry looked over the top of the book, grinning. “You sure? Sounds familiar.”

“In what world?”

“In this cabin. Right now.”

“You are delusional.”

He laughed, eyes crinkling. “Maybe. But you’re smiling.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to hide the curve of her mouth. “Back to reading, pretty boy.”

Harry paused. Blinked. Then slowly smiled—this time softer. More real.

“You think I’m pretty?”

Y/N opened her mouth. Closed it.

There was something in the way he said it—like it wasn’t a joke this time. Like he really wanted to know. And with the firelight flickering behind him, casting a golden glow on his skin and catching in his lashes, she couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t.

She looked away, fingers tightening slightly in the blanket. “Shut up.”

Harry chuckled, but the grin he wore wasn’t teasing now—it was warm. Gentle. The kind of smile that lingered, even after he turned back to the page.

He cleared his throat and read on, but Y/N wasn’t really listening anymore.

Because now she was the one sneaking glances.

And for the first time since they’d gotten snowed in…

She wasn’t sure if she hated it.

She turned her attention back to the fire—but it was no use. Her eyes kept drifting back to him. To the way he absently tapped the side of the book with his finger.

She didn’t realize she was slipping until her head gently tilted toward the arm of the couch. Her eyelids blinked slower. The warmth of the room, the steady cadence of his voice, the way her body had finally stopped fighting—all of it lulled her deeper.

By the time Harry flipped the next page, she was completely still.

He glanced over.

Y/N was curled up in her corner of the couch, her face relaxed, her lips parted slightly in sleep. One hand still held the edge of the blanket, like she’d tried to fight it, but lost.

He smiled to himself and lowered the book.

“You couldn’t hang, huh?” he whispered.

Carefully, he set the book down on the coffee table, then turned back toward her. She looked peaceful—peaceful in a way he’d never seen her. All the snark and sharp edges melted off, just warmth and soft lashes and slow breaths.

Harry hesitated.

Then he reached behind her, grabbed the throw blanket and gently draped it over her. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake.

He paused a moment longer, looking at her.

He’d spent years getting under her skin.

Teasing her, pushing her, watching her snap back at him with fire in her voice. And yeah, he’d loved every second of it. But this? This quiet moment, where she trusted him enough to fall asleep beside him?

It undid something in him.

“Goodnight angry,” he murmured.

He considered heading to his room, giving her space—but the warmth of the fire, the soft light of the candles, and her presence just a few inches away kept him still.

So he stayed.

He shifted gently onto his side of the couch, pulling the blanket over himself, careful not to disturb her.

And for the first time since arriving, Harry didn’t feel like pretending he didn’t care.

He closed his eyes, the storm still whispering outside, and let sleep take him too.

Y/N stirred in her sleep, the creeping chill tugging her gently out of her dreams. Her nose twitched. Her fingers flexed, brushing against something warm and solid.

That was the first clue something was… off.

The rest hit her all at once.

There was a strong arm wrapped snug around her waist. A warm chest pressed up against her back. A leg—oh god, someone’s leg—tangled over hers. And she wasn’t cold. Not really. Not where they were touching. She was actually kind of… cozy?

Still half-asleep, she nestled into the warmth, letting herself enjoy it for a moment. Whoever it was, they were warm and still and—

Wait.

That scent.

Cedarwood. Laundry detergent. Trouble.

Her eyes snapped open.

No. No, no, no.

She shifted her head slowly, heart beginning to race as her gaze dropped to the pale arm curled tightly around her midsection. That was not her blanket. That was a man. And that—

“Oh my god,” she whispered, her voice rasping out into the quiet.

In one sharp motion, she jolted upright like she’d just discovered a tarantula in her bed.

The blanket flew off, and Harry groaned behind her, arm flopping where she’d been.

“What the—”

He blinked up at her, bleary-eyed and confused, his curls a mess and his voice thick with sleep. “Why’d you move? We were warm.”

Y/N stared at him like she was trying to manifest fire from her pupils. “Were we cuddling?!”

Harry yawned. “It’s called body heat, sweetheart.”

She scrambled off the couch like she’d been electrocuted. “No. Nope. No, no, no.”

Still lounging on his side, Harry propped his head up with one hand, a crooked smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For saving your life. It’s called survival cuddling.”

“I’d rather freeze to death.”

“You didn’t seem to mind a second ago.”

Her mouth opened. Then closed. Because damn it, she had liked it just for a second. Before she realized who it was. Before Harry’s obnoxious charm showed up at full volume.

She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders like armor. “I must’ve been sleep-deprived. Or delusional.”

Harry stretched lazily, unbothered and still shirtless. “I’m a great cuddler, Y/N. It’s okay to admit that.”

“You spooned me like a heat-seeking missile.”

He grinned. “You were the one radiating warmth.”

She gave him a flat look. “You’re not cute.”

He shrugged. “You did call me pretty last night.”

“That was sarcasm.”

“Sure it was.”

Before she could fire back, a frigid gust whistled against the windows, and they both turned to glance at the hearth. The fire was completely out. Just ash and cold logs.

Y/N sighed and rubbed her arms. “Perfect. Now we’re actually gonna freeze.”

Harry sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll get more firewood. Don’t go passing out without me.”

“Trust me,” she muttered, stalking toward the kitchen. “You’ve cured me of any desire to sleep.”

As he disappeared into the hall to grab wood from the closet, she watched him go—shirtless, annoyingly tall, and still wearing that smug grin.

She scowled.

And yet, the ghost of warmth where he’d held her still lingered. And for some reason… that annoyed her most of all.

By the time Harry dragged himself off the floor and toward the stack of firewood in the back room, Y/N had wrapped herself in a blanket so tightly she looked like a grumpy little burrito—warm, silent, and very much Not In The Mood.

The cabin was freezing—again. The fire had gone out overnight, and without power, the chill seeped into everything that wasn’t pressed up against the hearth.

She didn’t say anything as Harry disappeared down the hall. When he returned with an armful of logs, she watched from the couch—quietly, like a cat perched on alert. He didn’t speak either, just dropped to his knees and got to work rebuilding the fire.

It only took him a few minutes to get it going again—he was weirdly good at it, crouched low in his hoodie and sweats, sleeves pushed up, curls falling into his eyes as he coaxed flames from kindling like he did this all the time.

And maybe he did.

Which was somehow more irritating.

Y/N pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, biting back the part of her brain that wanted to compliment him. Or at the very least... thank him.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

"Fire’s back," he said finally, brushing ash from his palms as he stood. The fire crackled again, warm golden light spilling across the cabin floor. “You’re welcome.”

She didn’t look up. “Congratulations on fulfilling basic survival instincts.”

"You really know how to say ‘thank you,’" he muttered, walking past her toward the kitchen. “And to think I was sensing improvement.”

Y/N didn’t respond. Instead, she reached into her tote bag and pulled out a tangled skein of golden-brown yarn and her favorite crochet hook—slipping into rhythm the moment the yarn touched her fingers. Hook. Pull. Twist. Loop. Her mind began to settle. A scarf, maybe. She didn’t care what it was. It was something to do with her hands while her brain spun in circles.

Across the room, she heard the familiar rustling of a duffel bag being unzipped. Water clinking into a small pot. The stove creaked open—still warm from last night—and a match hissed to life. No eggs this morning.

Just ramen. Again.

It was weirdly comforting.

She didn’t say anything, but her stomach did.

Harry didn’t even turn around. “Didn’t even argue this time. Growth.”

“I’m reserving my insults for later,” she said coolly, not looking up from her stitches.

“Save your energy,” he called back. “You’re gonna need it to slurp this world-class noodle masterpiece.”

“You mean boil noodles and dump powder in?”

“Gordon Ramsay’s shaking.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but kept crocheting. The crackle of the fire, the bubbling pot, and the smell of salty broth slowly warming the room—it was peaceful, in a weird, very not normal way.

Twenty minutes later, he appeared at the edge of her vision, holding out a ceramic bowl with a fork sticking out.

She eyed it warily.

“It’s not poisoned,” he said, nudging it closer.

“Unless you count sodium as a weapon.” Y/N took the bowl with a soft grunt of thanks, still not meeting his eyes.

Harry dropped onto the floor beside the couch, cross-legged, cradling his own bowl. “We’ve officially peaked. Noodles by candlelight.”

“You’re romanticizing instant ramen,” she muttered, digging in.

He slurped dramatically. “That’s because this is romantic.”

She smirked, barely.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, the kind of silence that was… not awkward. Not quite comfortable either. Something in between. Something new.

Y/N peeked at him once. Just once.

But of course, he caught her.

“What?” he asked, noodles hanging out of his mouth like a fool.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“You were staring.”

“I was judging.”

“Same thing,” he said, swallowing. “But go ahead, admit it. I make excellent apocalypse noodles.”

She considered. “They’re edible.”

“High praise,” he said, mock-bowing his head.

When she finished her bowl, she set it aside and reached for her yarn again. Harry leaned back on one hand and watched her fingers move.

“So… that your new scarf?”

“Maybe.”

He watched a little longer, then added, “You always crochet when you’re annoyed?”

She didn’t look up. “It’s either this or fight someone.”

He snorted. “You’re full of sunshine.”

She kept going, calm and rhythmic. “Crochet doesn’t talk back. Doesn’t flirt. Doesn’t leave its socks everywhere.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I do none of those things.”

“You flirted with a squirrel yesterday.”

“That squirrel was asking for it.”

Y/N choked on a laugh and shook her head. The moment stretched, softening like dough under a rolling pin. No tension. No snark. Just two people thawing—slowly—beside the fire.

Harry tilted his head, eyeing her half-finished piece. “Make me something?”

She looked at him like he had sprouted antlers. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Because I’ll wear it. And think of you every time I do.”

“That’s supposed to make me want to make you something?”

His grin widened. “Come on. I’d look good in something you made.”

Y/N paused, stared at him, then muttered, “A muzzle.”

Harry laughed—really laughed. Not one of his smug little chuckles or sarcastic scoffs, but a genuine, warm burst of amusement that crinkled his eyes and curled his dimples.

She wasn’t used to hearing that kind of laugh from him.

She definitely wasn’t used to liking it.And that unsettled her more than the blizzard howling outside. It cracked something open in her chest, something quiet and hesitant and unfamiliar.

They fell into an easy silence after that. The fire glowed steadily now, golden and soft, casting lazy shadows on the cabin walls. Their ramen bowls sat empty on the floor beside them. Y/N’s yarn moved between her fingers like it had a heartbeat of its own—loop, pull, twist, repeat. Soothing, steady. But her eyes kept drifting, flicking toward him more often than she wanted to admit.

Then Harry leaned forward and picked up the book they’d started the night before—the same one she’d read to him by candlelight. His thumb brushed over the dog-eared corner he'd folded down before he fell asleep.

“I could read a bit more,” he said casually, already flipping it open. “Unless you’re too busy knitting me a muzzle.”

“It’s crochet,” she corrected, without missing a stitch.

He smirked. “Still not denying it.”

“I’m considering gag options.”

“Charming,” he murmured with a grin, already settling back into the couch. He adjusted until he was half-reclined again, legs stretched out and the book open on his lap. The firelight danced across his face and the worn paperback, softening both in a way that made her throat tighten unexpectedly.

Y/N didn’t stop him.

Didn’t tease.

Didn’t even roll her eyes.

Instead, she just kept crocheting as his voice filled the room again—low and warm and surprisingly steady, each word threading between them like another row in the blanket between her hands.

The fire crackled quietly, a low hum behind Harry’s words. Outside, the wind pressed against the windows like a whisper, muffled by thick snow. Inside, everything felt smaller. Closer.

Safer.

Before they knew it Time clicked away, Harry read without pause, his voice dipping with tension, rising with humor. The tips of his fingers tapped the page as he spoke. He didn’t rush. Didn’t perform. It almost felt like he forgot she was there—like he read for himself.

Y/N curled her legs beneath her and tried to focus on her stitches, but her hands were stiff with cold. The blanket wrapped around her wasn’t cutting it anymore. The fire helped, sure—but her body craved something more immediate. Something warm and alive.

Something like the man sitting next to her.

She told herself it was just the temperature. Just comfort. Just necessity.

But her body was already leaning before her mind caught up.

First, her shoulder brushed against his arm.

Harry’s eyes flicked to her, a quiet glance, but he didn’t stop reading. He didn’t flinch or shift away. Instead, he adjusted slightly, tilting the book so she could see the page better. His posture relaxed, the corner of the throw blanket brushing her knee now.

It was a silent invitation.

She didn’t pull back.

A few pages later, her knee nudged against his.

Then the blanket slipped off one shoulder, goosebumps rising instantly along her skin.

Without missing a word, Harry reached behind them, grabbed the thicker throw blanket draped over the couch, and gently, wordlessly laid it across both of them. His hand grazed her arm in the process—warm and steady, grounding her like an anchor.

Y/N’s breath caught.

It was subtle.

Barely anything.

But somehow… it was everything.

She didn’t lean away. Didn’t speak.

She just listened—to the story, to the fire, to the steady, deliberate rhythm of his voice beside her.

And when she finally let her hook fall into her lap, resting her yarn beside her, she didn’t even notice her head tipping onto his shoulder.

She should’ve shifted. Should’ve made a sarcastic quip. Should’ve rebuilt the distance they’d so carefully maintained since the moment they met.

But instead… she let it happen.

Harry didn’t speak. Didn’t tease.

His arm moved slowly behind her back, slipping across her shoulders and resting with gentle weight along the curve of her body. He didn’t squeeze. Didn’t pull. Just held her—warm and patient, as if he’d known all along she would fold eventually.

He read on like nothing had changed.

But it had.

Y/N sat curled beneath his arm, blanket pooled around them both, the steady rise and fall of his voice softening into something she hadn’t let herself feel in a long time—safe. It wasn’t the story anymore that had her full attention. It was him. The way his chest moved beneath her cheek. The slow cadence of his breathing. The warmth that radiated off him like a second fire.

Her fingers twitched slightly beneath the blanket and—without meaning to—came to rest lightly over his chest.

Harry’s voice faltered for half a second. Barely noticeable. But she heard it.

He cleared his throat, blinked down at the page, and continued reading.

The book was hitting its emotional stride. Rachel was unraveling. Dex was making excuses. Darcy was still in the dark. The drama should’ve made Y/N roll her eyes—but now, it felt different. Like every word was being read not just aloud, but to her.

Specifically.

Intentionally.

And yet, it wasn’t performative. There was no smugness, no smirk on his face. Harry wasn’t playing a role anymore. He was just a boy reading a book, holding a girl who used to swear she hated him.

Somewhere around the middle of the chapter, her eyes started to flutter shut. Not from boredom. Not even from sleep. But from the calm—the peace—that had settled deep in her chest.

Her head dropped fully onto his shoulder. She felt his muscles tense just a little. Then relax again.

She didn’t mean to nuzzle closer.

But she did.

And he didn’t stop her.

His hand shifted slightly, brushing up her arm until it rested at the bend of her shoulder. The pads of his fingers touched her like she might disappear if he held too tight.

She didn’t.

She stayed.

By the time he finished the chapter, the room had gone quiet again.

He glanced down at her.

Y/N was still awake—barely—but her eyes were half-lidded, lashes brushing her cheeks, mouth parted the slightest bit. Her fingers were still resting against his chest. Her body tucked along his side like it had always belonged there.

Harry closed the book slowly and rested it on the table.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t want to break the moment.

Instead, he looked at her. Really looked.

She wasn’t scowling.

Wasn’t rolling her eyes.

Wasn’t biting back a sharp remark.

She just looked… soft.

Warm.

Real.

Like someone he hadn’t fully met yet—but wanted to.

He exhaled slowly and let his head fall back against the cushion. One arm still around her, his other hand drifted beneath the blanket and found her wrist, thumb brushing gently against her skin.

///

The room was quiet now.

Outside, the wind had calmed, settling into a gentle hush as snow drifted steadily from the sky. Inside, the fire burned low—an amber flicker casting long, slow shadows across the wood-paneled walls. The candles had melted into puddles at their bases, the scent of wax and cedar still hanging faintly in the air.

Y/N stirred.

She blinked slowly, breath catching as her brain registered warmth. Not just from the fire—but from beneath her. Around her.

Soft cotton brushed her cheek.

A rhythmic rise and fall pressed against her ear.

She was warm—warmer than she had been in days.

And then… she realized why.

She was in Harry’s lap.

Her entire body, tucked up in the fetal position, was curled over him like he was a makeshift mattress. Her head rested against his chest, right over his heart. One of his arms cradled her back, the other resting lazily on the armrest. Her legs were folded across the couch cushions—but she was definitely on him.

Panic flared first. Sharp and fast.

She jolted upright a little too quickly, like she’d just realized she’d been snuggling the devil himself. “Oh my god,” she breathed.

Harry, still half-asleep, cracked one eye open. His lashes were mussed, his curls a soft halo around his face, and his T-shirt was wrinkled from the weight of her cheek. He looked far too good for someone just waking up.

A crooked smirk curved his lips. “Well, well,” he murmured, voice deep and sleep-slicked. “Look who decided to wake up.”

She stared at him, still trying to get her brain to reboot. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“You were out cold,” he said, stretching slightly beneath her. “Didn’t move when I shifted. Or when the fire popped. Or when I put the blanket back on you.”

“I—” She paused, biting her lip. “I thought I fell asleep on the couch.”

He blinked. “You did. I just happened to be part of it.”

She groaned and flopped forward again, face hitting his chest with a muffled thud. “God. This is humiliating.”

“Disagree,” he said lightly, his fingers brushing her arm through the blanket. “You’re surprisingly cuddly.”

“I’m cold,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“You’re clingy,” he corrected.

“You’re annoying.”

“And yet, here we are.”

His arm was still around her—loose, casual, but firm enough to remind her just how close they’d gotten. Her hand was resting on his stomach, blanket slipped halfway off her shoulder, and she hadn’t even noticed.

She thought about pulling away again. She really did.

But the fire was barely burning, and his chest was warm, and his voice sounded like home in a way it had absolutely no right to.

So she stayed.

Harry didn’t say anything more. Just shifted a little to give her more room, then leaned his head back and exhaled softly through his nose. His fingers trailed slow, absentminded circles on the back of her sweatshirt—barely-there movements, rhythmic and comforting.

Y/N's pulse thudded louder in her ears.

This wasn’t just convenience. This wasn’t just about staying warm.

It was something else.

Eventually, she whispered, “You’re not… what I thought you were.”

Harry tilted his head just enough to glance down at her. “No?”

“I mean, you are. Kind of. But also not.”

He chuckled. “That clears it up.”

She pulled the blanket higher. “I mean… I thought you were all talk. Just ego and flirting and jokes.”

“I am.”

“But you’re also…” She trailed off.

Softer.

Sweeter.

Steadier than she wanted to admit.

Harry smiled lazily. “You can say devastatingly charming. I won’t stop you.”

She elbowed him lightly. “Shut up.”

He laughed again—low and genuine—and this time it tugged something loose in her chest.

For a while, they didn’t say anything. Just laid there, tangled under the blanket, breathing in sync.

Y/N’s eyes began to droop again. Her fingers curled loosely into the hem of his T-shirt. Harry’s hand never stopped tracing her back. The fire crackled, and somewhere between the silence and the comfort, she let herself drift off again

The morning sunlight crept in slow and honeyed, stretching long arms across the hardwood floors and casting warm halos around the quiet room. The fire had burned down to ash, leaving only a faint smell of smoke and the chilled hush of a new day. But still, there was warmth.

Because of him.

Y/N stirred, her face nestled against smooth cotton and bare skin. Her cheek rested squarely on Harry’s chest—his shirt nowhere in sight. One of his arms was tucked behind his head, the other curled tightly around her waist, anchoring her to him. Her thigh draped across his, tangled under the thick blanket that had slipped slightly to reveal the sculpted lines of his stomach.

She blinked slowly.

Took in the rise and fall of his chest beneath her ear. The way his hand rested just beneath her ribs. His scent—soap, firewood, and something inherently him.

And for the briefest, most dangerous moment… she smiled.

It was peaceful. Soothing.

Safe.

And then—the creak.

The front door groaned against the cold.

Voices.

Footsteps crunching snow on the porch. A laugh. A loud, familiar one.

Her heart stopped.

She jolted upright like she’d been electrocuted. “Oh my God—”

Harry stirred, a low sleepy groan rumbling in his chest. “What—?”

She was already wriggling out of his arms, panicking, shoving the blanket aside with a flurry of limbs and regret. Her bare foot hit the cold floor. “Shit, shit, shit—”

“Y/N?” he mumbled, voice gravelly and dazed.

Too late.

The door flew open with a ding from the old bell overhead, and cold air rushed in.

Jessica stomped into the cabin first, wrapped in a marshmallow of a puffer coat, cheeks flushed from the snow. “Y/N! You’re still alive!”

Y/N, halfway to standing, scrambled upright and grabbed the nearest throw blanket, hugging it around her like armor. She forced a tight smile, trying not to breathe like she’d just been sprinting across landmines.

“Hey,” she choked out. “Glad you made it safely.”

Behind Jessica, a second girl stepped inside—shaking snow from her coat, eyes bright and curious.

Taylor.

Long, shiny waves of chestnut-brown hair framed her face like a shampoo commercial. Her skin glowed against the cold, and her bright blue eyes immediately scanned the room like she was taking inventory of the space—and the people in it.

Y/N felt her stomach twist.

Not because Taylor wasn’t nice. But because she was perfect. The kind of effortless pretty that made you question your own reflection. And the way she looked at Harry when her eyes landed on him?

Well. That said enough.

Harry, who was only just now sitting up, blinked blearily, shirtless and still blanket-wrapped. His curls were messy. His voice was thick with sleep. “Morning…”

Taylor stopped mid-step, jaw slightly slack.

Jessica’s brows rose as her eyes ping-ponged from Harry’s bare chest to Y/N’s flustered appearance.

“Did we interrupt something?” Jessica asked, too casual to be casual.

Y/N snorted—too loud, too fake. “No. No! God, no. I was just… up early. Reading.”

Taylor blinked slowly, eyes still glued to Harry like she hadn’t heard a word. “Hi,” she said, smiling. “You must be Harry.”

Harry rubbed his eyes, squinting toward the sound of her voice. “Uh… I think so?”

Jessica smirked. “He’s usually a little more charming once he’s fully conscious.”

Taylor giggled, stepping farther into the room, but Harry’s gaze had already drifted past her—landing briefly on Y/N.

She wasn’t looking at him.

She was looking anywhere but him.

Still, he caught the way her fingers clenched tighter around the blanket at her chest. The flush across her cheeks that wasn’t from the cold.

Y/N turned her back quickly, darting toward the kitchen, mumbling something about tea.

Jessica didn’t miss it.

Behind her, Harry stood, blanket slipping down slightly as he stretched. His skin glowed in the morning light, shadows cutting across his arms and torso like artwork. Taylor’s stare was hungry. Obvious.

“Ohh its so cold in here” Taylor sad sweetly.

Harry yawned and reached for his shirt.

“Yeah. I’ll go grab some more firewood.”

As he padded past, Taylor turned to watch him, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip just slightly.

Y/N, from the kitchen, poured water into the kettle a little too forcefully.

Jessica leaned against the counter, one eyebrow cocked. “You good?”

“Peachy,” Y/N muttered.

Jessica smirked. “You’re glowing.”

Y/N gave her a look. “I’m actually coming down from high after thinking someone was breaking in to kill us.”

“Uh huh.”

Behind them, the door creaked again as Harry stepped into the back room to get firewood, and Taylor moved a little further just to watch him.

Y/N stared down at the tea kettle, face tight.

Jessica studied her best friend for a moment, then casually said, “So You and didn't kill each other?"

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harrystyles fanfic

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rosyrosethings · 7 months ago

Text

King Harry and The Nanny

This is Part 3. Very angst.

Part 2

Summary: Y/n is feeling guilty about the affair. Charlotte finds out about the two.

///

Harry's body stiffened at Charlotte’s declaration, the silence in the room stretching into an uncomfortable beat. He felt a cold sweat break out at the back of his neck as he registered her words. Another baby. The idea felt suffocating, like an anchor tied to his chest, dragging him down into murky waters. His mind raced, trying to piece together the best response that wouldn’t betray his turmoil.

Before he could answer, a sharp realization hit him—Y/N was still in the closet, listening to every word. The thought of her hearing this conversation twisted his heart in a way that left him breathless. He needed to end this, to find a way to get Charlotte out of the room before things spiraled further.

“Charlotte,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice calm, “this is a conversation we should have when we’re both rested and not caught up in the emotions of the day.”

Charlotte’s blue eyes searched his, a flicker of doubt crossing them. “Harry, please don’t dismiss this. We’ve been distant, and I thought... maybe this could help us find our way back to each other.” The sincerity in her voice was laced with desperation, and Harry couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. He looked away, the weight of her gaze pressing down on him like a burden. He swallowed hard and forced himself to meet her eyes again, determined to keep his voice steady.

“We will talk about this,” he assured her. “Just... not tonight. Let’s get some rest first.”

Charlotte’s shoulders sagged slightly, a small sigh escaping her lips as she nodded, conceding to his request. “Alright, tomorrow then.”

She reached out, her fingertips brushing his forearm, and he had to resist the urge to flinch at the touch. With one last glance around the room, Charlotte turned and walked out, the soft click of the door closing behind her a temporary reprieve.

As soon as the sound faded, Harry rushed over to the closet and opened the door. Y/N stepped out, her expression unreadable but her eyes brimming with unshed tears. The realization of their situation hit her harder than before, the image of being the ‘other woman’ searing into her mind.

“I need to go,” she whispered, voice trembling as she pushed past Harry, brushing by him with a touch so light it might not have even been there.

“Y/N, wait—”

But she was already at the door, her back to him as she paused for a brief second. “Please, Harry. Don’t,” she said, her voice cracking before she slipped out, leaving him alone in the silence.

///

The next morning, Y/N walked through the grand entrance of the palace, the familiar scent of fresh lilies and polished wood greeting her senses. The corridors were already bustling with staff, but to her, it was just another day in the palace. She held her head high, determined to carry on as if nothing had changed, even though every step weighed heavier than the last.

James and Anastasia were already waiting in the playroom when she entered coloring sheets in front of them. their faces lighting up as they saw her.

“Y/N!” James shouted, racing toward her with the boundless energy only a child could possess. Anastasia followed closely behind, her giggles filling the room as Y/N knelt down to scoop them both into a hug.

“Good morning, my little sunshines!” Y/N said, planting kisses on their cheeks. She focused on their smiles, letting their joy distract her from the ache in her chest.

“Can we play outside today?” Anastasia asked, her eyes sparkling with hope.

“Of course, but only after breakfast,” Y/N replied, brushing a stray curl from the little girl's forehead. The children chattered excitedly, and Y/N threw herself into their world, listening intently and laughing with them as though nothing had changed.

But that facade cracked the moment she heard the sound of footsteps behind her. Her heart skipped a beat, and she didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Harry’s presence filled the room, as undeniable as the sunlight streaming through the tall windows.

“Good morning,” Harry’s voice was deep, commanding, and tinged with a note of hesitation as he addressed them all.

Y/N’s muscles tensed, her fingers briefly pausing in their play with Anastasia’s hair before she forced herself to continue. Without looking at him, she stood and gave the children a bright smile. “Now that The king is here! I think it’s time for me to check on the kitchen staff to make sure your favorite breakfast is ready,” she said, her voice a touch too bright as she glanced over their heads, avoiding Harry’s eyes.

“I can help!” James volunteered, grabbing her hand.

Y/N chuckled, crouching to his level. "Its okay James, I will be right back. Talk to your father." She said softly.

Before Harry could say anything or step closer, Y/N was already halfway to the door. She felt his gaze on her back, the intensity of it searing her skin. She quickened her pace and slipped out, shutting the door behind her with a soft thud.

Harry’s jaw clenched, frustration simmering just below the surface. He turned to find James staring at him with a curious tilt of his head. “What’s wrong, Daddy?”

Harry sighed looking at his, a smile naturally appearing ruffling his son’s hair. “Nothing, buddy. Let’s hear about your morning.”

The day continued in a series of frustrating near-misses for Harry. Each time he sought Y/N out, she was busy with some other task—organizing the children’s schedules, meeting with the staff about upcoming events, or simply disappearing down another hallway before he could catch up.

By midday, his patience was threadbare. He finally spotted her in the courtyard, chatting with one of the palace maids about the children. Harry's stride was long and determined as he approached, but before he could reach her, his aide, Mr. Renfield, intercepted him.

“Your Majesty, we need to discuss the details of the upcoming state meeting. The Prime Minister has requested an audience within the hour,” Renfield said, bowing respectfully but firmly blocking Harry’s path.

A muscle in Harry’s jaw twitched. “Can it wait?” he asked, his eyes locked on Y/N, who was now laughing at something the maid said, her smile like a knife to his already bruised heart.

“I’m afraid it cannot, sir. It’s urgent,” Renfield pressed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

With a final glance at Y/N, Harry exhaled sharply and nodded. “Fine. Lead the way,” he said, already feeling the frustration coil tighter in his chest as he was forced to turn away. The sound of her laughter faded behind him, and he knew that, for now, he would have to wait a little longer to have the conversation that had been gnawing at him since last night.

He finally stepped into James’s room. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the walls, illuminating James hunched over his desk, scribbling away at his homework. It was Friday, which meant Y/N had put the children to bed around 9 p.m. James often bargained for more time, and Y/N, with her gentle nature, would stay until he drifted off. Sometimes, that meant spending the night curled up in the chair beside his bed because James couldn’t sleep if she left. He would wake every hour, panicked until he saw her still there, a silent guardian against the dark. One morning, Harry had found them just like that: James, small and peaceful, nestled in Y/N’s lap as she cradled him with one arm, her head resting against the chair, eyes shut in exhausted slumber. The sight struck Harry so deeply that he couldn’t resist capturing the moment—a soft, candid memory that spoke of comfort and devotion.

James lifted his head at the sound of the door opening and smiled sleepily when he saw his father. “Are you looking for Y/N? She’s with Anastasia, putting her to bed.”

Harry’s brows knit together in mild surprise as he moved further into the room, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Why do you think I’m looking for Y/N?” he asked, easing himself onto the bed, his tone light but probing.

James leaned back in his chair, eyes wise beyond his years as he met his father’s gaze. “Because you’ve been trying to talk to her all day. I don’t know what you did, but... I don’t think she wants to talk to you.” His voice was small but certain, the kind of truth that only a child could deliver so bluntly.

Harry’s smile faltered, a sigh escaping him as he ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right, James,” he admitted quietly, the weight of the boy’s words settling heavily in his chest. He glanced at the chair where Y/N would sometimes sleep, a pang of longing tightening in his heart. “You’re absolutely right.”

Harry smiled at James, leaning in with a playful glint in his eyes. “But I have a plan, James,” he said conspiratorially. “Part of that plan involves a surprise. I’ve asked the chef to stay late and make your favorite dessert.”

James’s eyes widened, anticipation lighting up his face. “What is it?” he asked, leaning forward with excitement.

Harry’s grin grew as he answered, “A special pavlova with fresh berries and vanilla bean cream.”

James’s mouth dropped open, and he jumped up from his chair with pure glee. “Really?” he squealed, barely able to contain himself.

Harry nodded, his heart swelling at the joy radiating from his son. “Yes, really. You can go get it now, but remember, you must be sneaky. Y/N can’t see you, and only one slice—if she finds out I gave you sugar at 9 p.m., she’ll have my head.”

James nodded eagerly, determination sparking in his eyes. “I promise!” He dashed out of the room, his footsteps quick and light as he made his way down the hall to the kitchen.

Y/N entered the room quietly, balancing a few books in her arms. She didn’t notice Harry standing by the window, his presence hidden by the shadows. Her focus was on her nightly ritual with James, and she began speaking softly, her voice gentle and full of warmth.

“Alright, James, I’ve brought some options tonight. We’ve got your favorite adventure story, a silly one, and a new book about knights,” she said, her eyes on the books as she stepped further into the room. It wasn’t until she glanced up, expecting to see James’s eager eyes, that she froze.

Harry stood before her, tall and composed, the soft light catching in the emerald green of his eyes. Her breath hitched as she noticed the brown sweater he wore, a rare departure from his regal attire. He looked softer, almost endearingly out of place, and for a fleeting moment, her heart swelled. But reality crashed back—he was married, and the fragile warmth inside her quickly dimmed.

Harry’s expression softened, a mix of regret and yearning. “Please, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and filled with a raw sincerity. “Let me talk to you.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her chest, her grip on the books tightening as she struggled to keep her composure. She hesitated, eyes searching his face for answers she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear.

Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself before meeting Harry's eyes. “What we did was wrong,” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of her words. “I shouldn’t have let it go this far.”

“It hasn’t gone far enough,” Harry countered, his tone desperate, eyes pleading.

She shook her head, a bitter smile playing on her lips. “Harry, you are the king, and you’re married. We can’t do this.”

His jaw clenched, frustration darkening his features. “I know what I am, Y/N. But I also know what I feel. You can’t tell me this isn’t real.”

“Your wife,” Y/N said, her voice breaking as she forced herself to look away. “She wants another baby. I heard her say it.”

Harry’s expression faltered, a shadow crossing his face before he spoke, voice low and raw. “I don’t want a baby with her. She isn’t—” He paused, eyes searching hers for understanding. “She isn’t you.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, heart pounding as he reached out and took her hand, his touch both electric and grounding. His voice softened, the words tumbling out as if they’d been held back for too long. “I love you, Y/N. I have for longer than I can remember.”

She stared at him, speechless, the room spinning as his confession sank in. “You... what?” she whispered, disbelief laced in her tone.

“I love you,” Harry said again, firmer this time, his gaze never wavering. “I see my future with you. Not just as the king, i do hate how we found each other but I'm meant to be with you.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, tears welling in her eyes as she searched for words. But none came; all she could do was look at him, the world as she knew it shifting under the weight of his truth.

"Is that true?" She said her voice choked up. Her heart swelled with affection. She hated how the two of them were in this situation. He smiled and nodded

"Very true my love." He said, her eye's swollen with tears

Y/N’s eyes searched Harry’s face, the storm of emotions between them unspoken but palpable. He leaned in, and when their lips met, the world around them seemed to fall away. The kiss was deep and desperate, a shared acknowledgment of everything they had kept buried for too long. Time stood still as they let themselves get lost in one another, their connection stronger and more real than ever before.

///

In the kitchen, James sat perched on a stool at the island, happily digging into his pavlova. His small feet swung back and forth as he savored each sweet bite. Charlotte walked in, catching sight of him with surprise.

“James, what are you doing up eating dessert this late?” she asked, trying to keep her voice calm but tinged with concern.

James looked up, a touch of nervousness flickering in his eyes. “Daddy said I could have it,” he said softly, his voice uncertain. He never quite knew how to act around her, always feeling a bit unsure.

Charlotte’s brow furrowed, but her focus shifted. “Where is your father?” she asked, her tone more serious now.

“In his room, talking to Y/N,” James replied innocently, taking another bite without a second thought. To him, there was nothing unusual about it—his father spoke with Y/N all the time.

Charlotte’s eyes darkened for a moment before she composed herself. “Finish up and go to bed immediately, do you understand?”

James nodded quickly, watching her leave as he scooped up one last bite.

Charlotte moved down the hall with deliberate, quiet steps, her pulse quickening as she approached Harry’s room. The door was ajar, just enough for her to see inside. What she saw rooted her in place: Harry standing close to Y/N, their faces mere inches apart, eyes locked with an intensity she hadn’t seen from him in years.

“I love you,” Harry said, the words filled with raw honesty. “I see my future with you. Not just as the king, not with duties and titles—but as a man. A man who wants to wake up every morning to your smile, who wants to see you in every moment of my life.”

Charlotte’s breath caught in her throat as she watched them kiss, the tender and passionate exchange breaking what little composure she had left. The reality of what was happening unfolded before her, undeniable and searing.

Before she could react further, the sound of James humming a tune as he bounded up the stairs reached her ears. Heart pounding, Charlotte backed away and slipped down the hall, retreating to their bedroom before the children or anyone else could see her. Her mind raced, the sight of Harry and Y/N entwined haunting her with every step.

Y/N reluctantly pulled away from Harry, her breathing uneven as reality seeped back in. They heard the distant hum of James’s footsteps nearing, and she took a shaky step back, clearing her throat as she tried to gather herself. “I should read to James,” she said softly, her eyes searching Harry’s for a moment before she moved toward the door.

Harry nodded, the lingering warmth of their kiss still buzzing in his veins. “Goodnight, Y/N,” he whispered.

She gave a faint smile and slipped out just as James appeared in the hallway, a satisfied smile on his face from his secret dessert. Y/N ushered him back to his room, starting their nightly ritual with a gentle ease. The sugar rush had James chattering at first, but before long, his words slowed and his eyelids drooped. For the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N watched as he fell into a deep sleep, no anxious glances to ensure she was still there.

Quietly, Y/N stood, brushing a soft kiss against his forehead before slipping out of the room, a sense of bittersweet contentment filling her.

Harry made his way back to his room, his mind still lingering on the warmth of Y/N’s smile and the memory of her touch. The thought of her, of what they shared and what it could mean, brought a rare softness to his expression. But as he opened the door to his room, that warmth was replaced by a sharp tension.

Charlotte was waiting for him, seated in an armchair by the window, her posture stiff and regal, her expression a mixture of anger and disdain. The dim light caught the gleam in her narrowed eyes, and Harry immediately knew this wouldn’t be an ordinary conversation.

“Harry,” she said, her voice low and controlled, though it carried an unmistakable edge. “We need to talk.”

He frowned, taken aback by her tone. “Charlotte,” he greeted cautiously, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair. “What is it?”

She didn’t respond immediately, instead letting her piercing gaze roam over him. Finally, she spoke, each word sharp and deliberate. “Is there someone else?”

Harry’s brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?” he asked, trying to play dumb, though his body stiffened under her scrutiny.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Charlotte snapped, standing abruptly. Her robe flowed behind her like a storm cloud as she approached him. “Are you seeing someone else?”

The room felt stifling, the silence between them heavy and suffocating. Harry hesitated, knowing that denying it would only prolong the inevitable. Slowly, he turned to face her fully, his green eyes meeting her cold glare.

“Yes,” he said quietly, the single word cutting through the tension like a knife.

Charlotte froze for a moment, as if the confession had stunned her despite already knowing the truth. Her jaw tightened, and she took a step closer, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. “How long?” she demanded, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and betrayal.

Harry hesitated again, guilt flickering in his expression. “Charlotte, I—”

“How long, Harry?” she pressed, her voice rising. “I deserve to know!”

He swallowed hard, unwilling to give her the full truth. “Longer than I should have allowed it,” he admitted, his voice heavy with guilt.

Charlotte’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but she blinked them away, refusing to show vulnerability. Instead, her expression twisted with bitterness. “It’s her, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice dripping with venom. “The nanny.”

Harry’s silence was answer enough.

“The *nanny*,” she repeated, her voice laced with mockery and disgust. “The woman who works for us. Who takes care of our children. That’s who you’re willing to throw everything away for?”

“Yes,” Harry said firmly, his voice quiet but resolute.

Charlotte’s lip curled into a sneer, and she took another step toward him, her eyes blazing. “How could you?” she hissed, her voice trembling with anger. “I have been your wife for years, Harry. I’ve borne your children. I’ve stood by you in front of the world. And this is how you repay me? By humiliating me for some—some slut?”

Harry flinched at the venom in her tone, his jaw tightening. “Charlotte, don’t.”

“No, I won’t stop!” she snapped, her voice rising. “You’ve betrayed this family for her. And for what? What could you possibly see in someone so… *low*? She’s a servant, Harry. A servant.”

“Charlotte, that’s enough.”

“Enough?” she laughed bitterly, her voice dripping with mockery. “Oh, I haven’t even begun. She’s not even pretty! That dark skin, that unrefined look. She doesn’t belong here, Harry. She doesn’t belong with us. She’s beneath you.”

“*Enough!*” Harry roared, his voice echoing through the room with a force that made Charlotte flinch. He stepped toward her, his tall frame towering over hers, his green eyes blazing with fury.

“You will *never* speak about her like that again,” he said, his voice low and commanding, each word carrying the weight of his authority. “Not to me. Not to anyone.”

Charlotte blinked, momentarily stunned into silence by his outburst. But her shock quickly gave way to defiance. “You’re defending her? *Her*? Over me, your wife? Over this family?” she spat, her voice trembling with rage.

“Yes, I am,” Harry said coldly. “Because she doesn’t deserve your hatred. Y/N is kind, compassionate, and loyal—all the things you stopped being a long time ago. She loves our children. She knows them. She’s everything you’ve refused to be.”

Charlotte’s face twisted with anger and humiliation. “How *dare* you,” she hissed, her voice shaking. “You’re the one who betrayed *me*. You’re the one who ruined this marriage. And you have the audacity to blame me?”

“This marriage was ruined long before Y/N came into my life,” Harry said sharply. “You know it. I know it. We’ve been playing pretend for years, Charlotte. You don’t love me. You love being queen.”

Charlotte’s expression faltered for the briefest moment, but she quickly masked it with rage. “You will regret this,” she said, her voice icy. “You will regret everything. And that woman—she’ll be gone by the end of this week.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, his tone dropping to something dangerously calm. “If you so much as think of harming her or taking action against her, I will make sure you regret it. Don’t forget who I am, Charlotte. I was born to this role—you were chosen. Don’t test me.”

Charlotte stared at him, her fury burning bright but her words failing her. With a sharp turn, she stormed out of the room, her robe billowing behind her as the door slammed shut.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #watermelon sugar #harrys house #fanfic #king harry #x reader #fem reader

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rosyrosethings · 9 months ago

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Hi Erinnnn, how are you??? When will we get the next part of the King and the nanny? Thank youuu 😜❤️❤️

Im okayyy thanks for asking. I don't know 😭 i am working on it. I will try to post it this weekend

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #watermelon sugar #harrys house #fine line #fanfic #harry styles one shot

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rosyrosethings · 9 months ago

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safety [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: harry is always there to help bambi, always.

word count: 5.4k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), harry meets the family, crybaby reader lowkey

a/n: apologies for this taking so long. I've moved into university and switched courses within three weeks so I've had to do a lot of adjusting! But I hope you're doing well, thank you so so so much for all the love on the first part of bambi and being so patient with this part <333

. . .

Y/N sighed as she stepped into the living room, her heart sinking at the sight of her mother passed out on the couch. It was Friday night, and her mom was still in her work uniform, one shoe barely hanging from her foot while the other lay haphazardly across the room. A wave of frustration and sadness hit her hard. She had begged her mom to take the day off to watch the boys so she could go on her date with Harry tonight—the date she’d been looking forward to all week.

This was supposed to be their third date, just before she started working with him at Pleasing this weekend. Their last date had been simple—strolling hand in hand by the river, talking about everything and nothing. But tonight was different. Harry had told her to dress up; he had something important to ask her and was taking her somewhere special. Y/N had been buzzing with excitement ever since.

Glancing at her phone, she felt the sting of tears. Halfway through her makeup, she now realized it didn’t matter—she’d have to cancel. With her mother out cold and no babysitter available at such short notice, the responsibility fell on her. And it was ruining everything.

She opened Harry’s contact on her phone, staring at the little pink heart next to his name. Her thumb hovered over the call button as doubt crept in. What if he never wanted to see her again after this? Cancelling last minute was embarrassing, and she dreaded how angry or disappointed Harry might be.

Her thumb pressed down, the ringing growing louder with each second. Anxiety gnawed at her as she picked at the skin around her nails.

Suddenly, the call connected, and Harry’s voice, smooth and soothing like a lullaby, poured through the speaker. “Bambi? Was jus’ about to pick y’ up. You missin’ me already?”

Her lip trembled, and a tear slid down her cheek as she sniffled. “Harry…” Her voice cracked.

“Hey, what’s wrong, love?” Concern filled his voice instantly, and the warmth of it made her chest tighten.

“I-I can’t go on our date tonight,” she confessed, her voice shaky.

“What d’you mean? Don’t be silly, is something wrong?” His slight panic was clear, making her feel even worse.

“No, it’s not like that. It’s just… my mom came home late, and she’s, um, not able to watch the boys, so I have to stay and babysit. I’m really sorry, Harry. I wanted to go tonight, I swear. I understand if you’re mad or—if you never want to see me again—”

“Woah, woah, Bambi, baby, stop panickin’. I don’t hate you, not at all. It’s closer to the opposite, so calm down, yeah? ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice still thick with emotion. “Y’promise?”

“Five pinkie swears, baby,” he chuckled softly, making her giggle through the tears. “It’s alright. These things happen. But are you okay? Need me to grab you anything? Have y’eaten today?”

His kindness made her heart swell. “N-No, but we’ve got stuff in the freezer I can heat up. Maybe we can reschedule?”

“Bambi, I’m already on my way to your house.”

Her breath hitched. “What? But, Harry, I can’t—”

“You think I’d let a little change of plans stop me from seein’ you? Been needin’ to see m’Bambi all day. How ‘bout this: you help your mum, and I’ll come by and make dinner for all of you. Sound good?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Was he real? Was he really this thoughtful, this willing to come over despite everything?

“Harry, you don’t have to—”

“I want to. Now, go get in some comfy pjs, and I’ll stop by the store to grab snacks. Maybe we can watch a movie later. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice lighter now. “That sounds perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll be over in thirty minutes. Take a deep breath for me, Bambi.”

Immediate relief washed over her at the idea of having an extra pair of hands to help her with something that she’d normally be left alone to and better yet it was Harry who was coming to help her. So, she did exactly that - breathe.

. . .

Y/N was pushing clothes into the washing machine when she heard the doorbell ring. Her heart skipped a beat or possibly maybe two when she heard it. She forced the door shut on the machine and walked to the front door. She frowned the closer she got when she could already hear Harry’s voice but that was soon followed by the voice of her younger brother.

“I know jujitsu, you know,” Archie announced, his small five-foot frame blocking the doorway.

“You take classes?” Harry asked, bemused.

“No, I learned it on Roblox,” Archie replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve heard of that one before. You’ll have to show me sometime,” Harry said with a grin.

Archie snorted. “You could just be saying that to get into our house and rob us.”

Y/N’s face heated with embarrassment as she approached the door, ushering Archie out of the way. Harry’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Y/N, this pizza delivery guy is trying to break into our house,” Archie said. Y/N looked to see Harry holding two pizza boxes and a plastic bag.

“Archie,” Y/N gasped, “this is not a pizza delivery man. This is Harry.”

Harry smiled, clearly trying not to laugh, and offered Archie a small wave. It did nothing to ease the suspicious look on Archie’s face. “Who’s Harry?”

Y/N froze, unsure of how to answer. Harry was both her boss and the man she was dating, but she couldn’t exactly explain that to her little brother. “He’s... my special friend.”

Archie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged and wandered off. Y/N’s shoulders sagged with relief as she turned to face Harry, who was still grinning at her. He looked incredibly handsome in his matching brown suit, his curly hair tousled in that familiar way. Her heart sank a little, knowing he had dressed up for their date.

“H-Harry, I’m really sorry—” she began, but before she could finish, Harry set the pizza boxes down and pulled her into a tight embrace. She breathed in the fruity scent of his cologne as he gently rubbed circles on her back.

“Bambi,” he murmured with a soft sigh, “I missed you.”

She smiled against his chest. “You just saw me the other day, and we FaceTimed last night.”

Harry pulled back slightly, cupping her cheeks with his large hands. “Kiss?”

Her cheeks flushed, as they always did when he asked for a kiss. She stood on her toes, meeting his lips, savouring the softness of his touch and the faint taste of peppermint from his lip balm.

“Have you eaten yet?” he murmured against her lips. “I brought pizza.”

“You didn’t have to,” Y/N sighed softly. “I was just going to throw something in the oven.”

“Hey, Bambi.” She looked up, meeting his gaze already fixed on her. “I wanted to. I’m here to help, okay? Now, why don’t we eat this before it gets cold? You grab some plates, and I’ll set the table.”

“O-Oh, okay.” She nodded, a bit flustered. “Just so you know, my brothers can be… intense.”

Harry smiled, his expression easygoing. “It’s okay, I’ve got a niece. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

Y/N led him into the living room where her little brothers were scattered. Archie sat in the corner, hunched over the computer, likely playing the game he had mentioned to Harry earlier.

“Who are you?” a small voice piped up. Harry glanced down to see a boy around six or seven, looking at him curiously.

“That’s Y/N’s special friend,” Archie chimed in without even turning around from his game.

“Weren’t you the guy making out with my sister the other night?” The eldest of the three boys, who looked about fourteen, spoke up from where he was watching TV. Despite his age, there was a maturity in his tone that caught Harry off guard.

Harry chuckled, feeling Y/N stiffen beside him. He gave the teenager a polite smile. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.”

“Sammy go and get the plates from the kitchen, Harry bought us pizza.” Sammy huffed, pausing the tv and doing exactly as his sister said.

“Jack, can you grab an extra chair?” Y/N asked the youngest boy, her voice gentle but firm. Harry watched as the boys immediately followed their eldest sister’s instructions without question. A small pang tugged at his chest—part of him felt for her, having to shoulder the responsibility of looking after three growing boys. He didn’t know every detail of her family life, but seeing the way they interacted was enough to tell him they’d had to adapt quickly.

They all gathered around the table, two extra-large pizzas laid out in front of them. Harry chuckled at the sight of the boys eyeing the food like it was a rare treasure.

“Calm down,” he murmured with a grin, leaning close to Y/N. “Y’ so stiff, Bambi.”

Y/N blushed, fidgeting slightly. “Sorry, I just get so—”

“So?” Harry interrupted, smirking as he tried to coax her into a fluster. “So what, baby?”

“So nervous,” Y/N huffed, her cheeks burning as she realized he was toying with her.

A throat cleared from across the table, and Y/N suddenly felt three pairs of eyes locked onto them. Jack and Archie looked disgusted by the couple’s banter, while the eldest boy, Sammy, was glaring at Harry with an intensity that made Harry suppress a laugh.

“How old are you?” Sammy asked bluntly, his gaze sharp and protective.

Y/N choked on her drink. “Sammy! You can’t just ask people that—it’s rude!”

Harry chuckled, raising a hand to calm her. “No, it’s alright,” he said, amused. “I’m thirty.”

“Whoa, you’re old!” Archie blurted out, eyes wide with surprise.

“Archie!” Y/N gasped, mortified, while Jack burst out laughing.

“I guess it is kind of old,” Harry shrugged playfully, glancing at Y/N with a wink.

“Are you rich?” Sammy pressed, undeterred.

Y/N’s face flushed even more, praying the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

“I do well,” Harry replied, keeping his tone light. “I own a fashion company.”

“That means he’s rich,” Archie chimed in, eyes lighting up. “Do you have a sports car?”

Harry leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “I own three.”

Archie gasped, his face a picture of awe. “No wonder you can afford two extra-large pizzas!”

“If you think that’s cool, wait till you hear what else I brought,” Harry teased.

“Candy?” Archie’s eyes grew even wider, filled with excitement.

“Better.”

“Ice cream?”

Harry nodded. “Ice cream, candy, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles... you name it.”

Archie looked as though he might pass out from pure joy. Sweets after dinner weren’t a common occurrence in their house unless it was a special occasion.

Harry’s smile softened as his eyes flicked to Sammy, who was still watching him with guarded suspicion. “What do you want from my sister?” Sammy finally asked, his tone sharp.

Y/N cringed, wishing she could disappear like Jack, who was contentedly munching on pizza, completely oblivious to the tension. Her cheeks were already burning before she’d even taken a bite.

Harry’s hand found its way to her knee under the table, a silent reassurance that he knew exactly how she was feeling without her having to say a word.

“It’s still early,” Harry said honestly, his gaze meeting Sammy’s without faltering. “But I really, really like your sister.”

Sammy seemed to relax at that, but not without a final warning. “You’re not allowed to like her as much as we do.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed at the words. Despite the challenges, the boys were her world, her best friends.

Harry smiled warmly, his voice sincere. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

. . .

"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" Archie came barreling into the kitchen, his face smeared with chocolate and whipped cream from the ice cream sundaes they’d made earlier. Y/N was bent over the washing machine, pulling out clothes to hang on the makeshift line by the window.

"Harry says he's gonna take us to the indoor waterpark in the city for my birthday! Isn't that awesome? And he beat Sammy's score on the new game he bought us!"

Y/N glanced up, smiling softly at Archie's excitement. The boys had been glued to the computer for hours after Harry surprised them with a game they’d been begging for. The sound of their wild laughter had echoed through the house all afternoon.

Footsteps approached the kitchen, and she looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Harry, I was just telling Y/N about the waterpark you’re taking us to," Archie said eagerly.

Harry’s eyes flicked to Y/N. "Ah, yes," he said, smiling at her. "I heard there’s a certain someone’s birthday coming up soon."

Archie's birthday was still a month away, and Y/N had only planned a simple celebration—movies, takeout, and cake. As Archie bolted from the kitchen, beaming about the waterpark, Y/N’s smile faded slightly.

Harry noticed the shift immediately. "What’s wrong?" he asked, stepping closer and reaching for her hand. "Did I mess something up?"

"N-no," Y/N replied quickly, shaking her head. "You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just... Archie's birthday isn’t for another month."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Y/N hesitated, her words stumbling over themselves. "I just don’t want to make promises, you know, in case… I mean, what if…" She trailed off, struggling to find a way to express the growing anxiety in her chest. She adored Harry, more than she could articulate, but a part of her couldn’t help worrying about the future—the uncertainties that came with letting someone new into their lives.

"Bambi," Harry’s voice was soft as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Where’d you go?"

She blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

His lips quirked into a gentle smile. "Y’ do this thing where you space out, like your mind drifts off somewhere else ‘cause you're thinkin’ too much."

"I do that?" she asked, surprised.

"Mhm," he murmured, his thumb tracing the little furrow in her brow, the touch sending warmth through her. "I like you an awful lot, Bambi. I plan on stickin' around for a long time."

"You do?" Her voice was small, almost disbelieving.

"Yes, I do. And I really like your brothers—they’re a credit to you."

Y/N opened her mouth to deflect, as usual. "Oh, you mean my mom—"

"No," Harry interrupted gently, shaking his head. "I mean you."

Her lips parted in surprise, her eyes misting over. She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words. Without thinking, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, a kiss filled with the gratitude she couldn't quite express in words.

She was about to pull away, but Harry held her close, his hands gripping her hips as he deepened the kiss. His soft, warm lips made her head spin, and for a brief moment, the world around them disappeared.

That is, until Sammy’s voice rang out from the hallway. "I’m coming in, so you better not be swapping saliva in there!"

Harry broke the kiss with a chuckle, glancing over his shoulder. "Alright, alright, we’re behaving," he teased, winking at Y/N before moving to the sink. "Let me help you," he offered, turning on the faucet to start washing the dishes from dinner.

Y/N watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. The words he’d spoken earlier echoed in her mind—words that had already begun to feel familiar, but only when they came from him.

. . .

Y/N woke up the following morning, not from the alarm she’d set for 6 a.m., but from the rapid thumping of her heart. Anxiety rippled through her, making her stomach twist with nerves. Today was her first day working at Pleasing, her first day officially under Harry’s employment. She was excited, of course, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in her belly from multiplying.

She stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, taking slow breaths to calm herself. Her phone buzzed softly on the nightstand, and she reached over, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the message.

Harry: Morning, Bambi 🌞 There’s a car on its way to pick you up. No need to stress, yeah? I’ll be waiting for you at the office. You’re gonna be amazing x

A small smile crept onto her face despite the nerves. Harry’s words were like a warm hug on a cold morning, making her feel just a little bit braver. She couldn’t help but appreciate how he seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear, right when she needed to hear it.

She quickly typed a reply, her fingers still shaky.

Y/N: Thank you. I’m a little nervous but I’ll do my best. See you soon 💕

Y/N got out of bed and went through her morning routine, trying to focus on each task to stop her mind from spiraling into all the things that could go wrong today. She picked out an outfit she hoped said “professional but approachable,” taking extra care to smooth out any creases in her clothes. When she was finally dressed, she checked the time—6:45 a.m.—the car Harry sent should be arriving any minute.

She stepped outside, the cool morning air doing little to ease her racing thoughts. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The street was quiet at this hour, and she couldn’t help but feel like the only person awake in the world.

Just then, a sleek black car pulled up in front of her, the driver rolling down the window with a friendly nod. "Y/N?" he asked, and she nodded in response.

“That’s me,” she said, her voice a little shaky. She climbed into the backseat, clutching her bag on her lap as the driver started the journey to the office. She stared out the window, watching the familiar streets blur by, and tried to give herself a little pep talk.

You can do this. You’re ready. Harry believes in you, so believe in yourself, too.

Her phone buzzed in her hand again, another message from Harry.

Harry: Also going on a coffee run, do you want anything? x

Bambi: Isn’t that my job today? x

Harry: It’s my job to take care of you everyday

Y/N didn’t realize how wide her smile had grown until she caught her reflection in the glassy screen of her phone. A soft blush crept onto her cheeks as she tried to compose herself, glancing out the window to distract from the giddy feeling bubbling inside her. She watched as the quiet suburbs melted into the bustle of the big city, her heart thudding against her ribcage.

Slowly, the car pulled up outside Pleasing. The building was elegant, with an arched doorway and a clean awning that had the brand's name in bold letters. Through the large glass doors, Y/N could see a glimpse of the bright, stylish interior. Her heart pounded as the car came to a stop, her mouth opening with a desperate plea to leave, to turn back and retreat home where she could hide away—but then she saw Harry, and her words fell away for an entirely different reason.

She’d seen Harry in a suit before, but seeing him in full CEO mode was something else. He wore a flawless black-and-white suit, cufflinks gleaming at his wrists. His eyes were stern, his entire demeanor unshakeable—until he looked her way, and his whole form softened.

“You’re here,” His voice was warm and inviting. She wanted to leap into him and hide herself within him but she wanted to be professional.

She stood in front of him, not wanting to get any closer to her new boss, “Good morning, Mr Styles.”

The corner of Harry’s lips quirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Good morning,” he replied, savoring her formality. He took a step closer, his gaze gentle yet focused. “Ready for today?”

“Y-yes,” She said but it wasn’t all that convincing.

Harry grabbed her hand, “You’ll be just fine Bambi.” He murmured the nickname just for her to hear.

The warmth of his hand around hers steadied her, but it also set her pulse racing. His fingers intertwined with hers, and he kept their joined hands subtly hidden between them as they walked through the grand entrance and into the lobby. Y/N’s nerves started to quiet, replaced by a growing excitement.

As they stepped into the elevator, Harry’s thumb brushed gently over her knuckles. She looked up at him but his eyes were looking ahead. Her eyes fixated on his sharp jawline and smooth, freshly-shaven face; he looked even more polished, clean-cut and distinctly professional since she’d last seen him.

When they reached his office floor, Harry led her down a sleek corridor and into an airy, open workspace with views of the city skyline. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, and a few team members looked up with welcoming smiles.

Just ahead, a woman in her mid-thirties with shoulder-length auburn hair and an easy smile approached them. Her professional but warm demeanor put Y/N at ease almost instantly. Harry released Y/N’s hand as he greeted her.

“Lindsey, this is Y/N,” he said, glancing between them. “She’s starting with us today. I thought you might help her settle in and get familiar with everything.”

Lindsey extended her hand warmly. “Oh is this-”

Harry’s gaze lingered on her with a slight, unreadable intensity, prompting Lindsey to pause mid-sentence. Then, noticing Y/N, she broke into a bright smile.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She laughed lightly, her eyes flicking to Harry with a teasing glint. “I have to admit, I’m a little curious why anyone would sign up to be his assistant—he can be a real pain most days.” She shot him a playful look. “But don’t worry, just don’t enter his office at midday - he can get real hangry.”

Y/N giggled and Harry’s eyes brightened at the sound, ““Y/N,” he said, his voice warm, “you’re in very good hands.” He turned to Lindsey. “Make sure she gets a proper introduction to everything, but don’t overwhelm her.”

Lindsey chuckled. “I’ll keep it light for today, boss. We’d be here all day getting into your list of demands everyday.”

Harry rolled his eyes, and with a final look at Y/N, said, “I’ll see you later, then.” His words were simple, but the small smile he gave her was anything but. As he walked away, Y/N felt the anticipation return, wanting him to come back and be the one to show her around. She wasn’t the best with meeting new people. She was shy and nervous and fumbled over her words too often but Harry had great faith in her so she would try her best to do good.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Lindsey said, gesturing to an open desk area near Harry’s office. “First things first—coffee? I’ll show you the best spot, and then we’ll make our way through the to-do list Harry sent this morning.”

. . .

Y/N liked Lindsey a lot.

She was funny and gentle. Whenever Y/N made a mistake—like earlier when she accidentally printed everything in pink instead of black and white—Lindsey would correct her kindly, reminding her that mistakes happen. Y/N wasn’t used to this kind of patience; her old boss would snap or hiss at even the smallest error. Here, it felt nice to breathe a little easier.

Lindsey spoke warmly about her two little boys, whom she cared for while her husband was away with the military. She had once been a stay-at-home mom, but over time, the isolation began to weigh on her; she craved more than just the role of mother and wanted to be out in the world, around people. When she applied to Pleasing, she’d explained her situation to Harry during her interview, and he had offered her flexible hours so she could still make it home to her boys each evening.

Whenever Lindsey mentioned the things Harry had done for her and her family, her voice would grow thick with emotion, and she spoke of him with genuine admiration. Y/N found herself thinking of her own circumstances and the way Harry had taken her under his wing, feeling a warmth for him settle in her chest.

“Okay, Harry’s in a meeting, so we need to bring in tea and coffee,” Lindsey said, heading over to a small rolling cart neatly stocked with cups, a teapot, and coffee supplies.

She guided Y/N through the arrangement, showing her how Harry liked his tea prepared. “He’s particular about the temperature—hot but not scalding,” Lindsey explained with a wink. “Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of things.”

Y/N carefully poured the tea, her hands steadying with each instruction Lindsey offered. They finished preparing the drinks, and Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself as she reached for the cart handle.

“You’ll be fine,” Lindsey reassured her, offering a supportive smile. “Just go in, keep it simple, and make sure everyone has their drinks. You’ll be a natural at this in no time.”

“I’m going in alone?” Y/N’s eyes widened.

“It’s good practice,” Lindsey grins, “Good luck!”

Y/N squared her shoulders and pushed the cart toward the meeting room. The murmurs grew louder as she approached, but her nerves eased slightly upon catching Harry’s eye. His expression softened for a moment before returning to its professional coolness, a small signal just for her.

As she entered, she was met with the sight of a large glass table surrounded by men in sharp suits, all eyes shifting toward her. Taking a breath, she rolled the cart around and placed the cups in front of Harry and the others. Just as she reached for the teapot, a slight tremor ran through her hand, and she felt a sudden rush of panic.

In an instant, she lost her grip. The teapot tipped, sending hot tea spilling across the table and splattering onto a crisp white shirt belonging to one of the men. The room fell silent, and every gaze shifted from her to the angry figure, whose face flushed crimson.

““Watch where you’re going!” he barked, rising from his seat. “Do you even know how to serve properly?”

Y/N’s heart raced, the color draining from her face. Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, a surge of anger rippled through the room.

“Do you think it’s okay to talk to a woman like that?” Harry murmured, his voice laced with malice.

“She stained my shirt! She’s lucky I’m not making her pay for it,” the man continued, and Y/N could see the discomfort on the faces of the other attendees, their expressions telling her they knew he’d crossed a line.

Harry’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them. He reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a checkbook and a fountain pen. With swift strokes, he began to scribble before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, would you mind delivering this to Mr. Smith?”

Y/N nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she accepted the check, its weight feeling both significant and heavy.

Mr. Smith snatched the check from her hands, glancing down at it with a scowl. Written across the page was Harry’s signature alongside a mere fifty dollars. “Your final check—enough to cover the shirt, I assume? I think I saw the same one in the TK Maxx sale rack.”

“Final?” Mr. Smith asked, incredulous.

“Correct,” Harry replied nonchalantly.

Mr. Smith’s face burned bright red. He huffed, rising from his seat and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The room fell silent. “Meeting adjourned,” Harry announced, and everyone flooded out, eager to escape the awkward tension.

Y/N stood in the corner, barely able to look up. Embarrassment washed over her; she wondered if she could do any job right. Her eyes watered as she bit down on her lip to keep from crying.

Suddenly, two polished shoes came into view, and big hands cupped her cheeks, gently forcing her to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.

She wanted to say yes, to express pride in her efforts and how well she had handled the day, but instead, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shirt. “I feel like I can’t do anything right,” she admitted, her voice muffled.

Harry sighed, his arms encircling her as he rubbed the back of her head soothingly. “You did nothing wrong.”

“You can’t fire people because of me, Harry.”

“Don’t worry about him. We’ve wanted to get rid of him for ages—just a sexist prick. Turns out you’re a pretty good assistant for giving me an excuse to fire someone on the spot,” he chuckled lightly.

Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttering as his hand held her cheek, his thumb brushing beneath her eye. “These eyes,” he whispered.

A smile broke through her sadness. “I’m sorry for ruining your meeting.”

“Don’t care, Bambi.” He was so much taller than her, nearly a foot difference, so he had to lean down to brush his nose against hers, their lips ghosting against each other. “You actually made it better.”

“I did?” she whispered, her mind suddenly forgetting the man who had yelled at her.

“Mhm,” he hummed, and then, gently, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and lingering, sending a warm flutter through Y/N that chased away the remnants of her earlier embarrassment. She melted into the moment, her worries fading as Harry’s lips brushed against hers.

“Okay, what the hell happened?” Lindsey barged into the room, causing Y/N to leap away from Harry, her cheeks flushing.

“Wow, Lindsey,” Harry said, rubbing a hand over his mouth, both of them flustered as Lindsey glanced between them. “Try knocking next time, yeah?”

“Since when have I ever needed to knock?” Lindsey shot back, her eyebrows knitting together as she assessed Y/N, whose face was now bright pink.

“Since now,” Harry replied. Clearing his throat, he added, “If you’ll excuse me…” He brushed past her, leaving the tension lingering in the air.

A laugh escaped Y/N’s lips, even as embarrassment tinged her cheeks; it was the first time she’d witnessed him so flustered. Lindsey arched an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her face. “So, are you two like…?”

“No,” Y/N replied, the denial tumbling out a bit too quickly.

Lindsey shot her a knowing look but chose not to press further. “Might want to let him know about that lipstick stain on his upper lip,” she added, rolling the cart out of the room and leaving Y/N feeling distinctly warm and flustered.

. . .

Harry kissed Y/N with the lights off on her front porch after dropping her home. Y/N melted against him, her fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her, the sweet taste of his breath mixing with the fresh night air. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. “Bambi,” He slurred against her lips.”

“Hm?” She hummed, unable to stop herself when she pulled him closer.

“I was thinking,” He murmured, pulling away but his hands still firmly gripping her waist, “Maybe this weekend y’ could come to my place and stay the night.”

“The night?” She’d never had a sleepover before let alone one at a boys house.

“Yeah… Would you be okay with that?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so.”

“Y’ think so?” Harry grinned, “Are y’ sure?”

She smiled, “I’d like that.”

“Well, alright then,” he murmured, leaning down to place one last, soft kiss on her lips. “Goodnight, Bambi.”

“Goodnight, Harry.” Y/N barely suppressed a smile as she watched him walk to his car, a flutter in her chest as he turned back for a final wave.

Before she turned to step into her house, her phone buzzed and a text came through from Harry.

Harry: I think we have to get better at this whole sneaking around thing

Y/N: Tell yourself that, you kissed me first!

Harry: Can’t help it Bambi

Harry: I’m obsessed with you

. . .

taglist ~~

@ravenclawmarvel @noididnotsignupforthis @comicalivy @boomitsallie1 @hazzarules @squirreljoe @c3lline0 @harry2121 @lizsogolden @its-his-dimples @tchalametishot @youngpastafanmug @awritingtree @reidsblessing @idontcareforausernamesblog @madstyles3204 @cherrys4suckers @lomlolivia @tenaciousperfectionunknown

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rosyrosethings · 9 months ago

Text

Love in Fine Print

Note: this is long awaited part. Im not really satisfied with this ending. Their will be another part. Plz let me know how you guys like it

Masterlist Love in fine Print Masterlist

"Bridget.?"

"Harry I'm sorry, I forgot my purse."

Harry reluctantly stepped aside to let Bridget in, his mind still reeling from the kiss with Y/n. As Bridget retrieved her purse from the living room, Y/n emerged from the kitchen, her cheeks flushed and lips slightly swollen.

"Oh, Y/n, you're still here," Bridget said, her tone laced with disappointment.

"I live here, remember?" Y/n replied coolly, crossing her arms.

An awkward silence fell over the room as the three of them stood there, the tension palpable. Harry cleared his throat, "Well, Bridget, you've got your purse now. I'll see you out."

Bridget's eyes darted between Harry and Y/n, noticing their disheveled appearance. "Right. See you tomorrow, Harry," she said, leaning in to kiss him goodbye.

Harry turned his head slightly, causing Bridget's kiss to land on his cheek instead of his lips. Bridget's eyes narrowed as she pulled back, glancing suspiciously between Harry and Y/n once more before heading to the door.

As soon as Bridget left, Y/n let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "That was..."

"Awkward," Harry finished, running a hand through his hair. He took a step towards Y/n, his eyes intense. "Now, where were we?"

Y/n's heart raced as Harry approached. "Mr. Styles, I..."

"Y/n," he said softly.

He reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands. Y/n leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed.

"Harry," she whispered, savoring this moment. “We shouldn’t.” She said softly

“Why not? I want you.” He said

"I want you too," Y/n admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But you're my boss, and Bridget..."

Harry's thumb traced her bottom lip, sending a wave of electricity through her body. "I will handle Bridget tomorrow," he said with a determined glint in his green eyes. As for being your boss..." He paused, his gaze locking onto hers. "I am the owner of this company and it's no secret that people already assume we are together."

Y/n's heart skipped a beat at his words, her face still cupped in his hand. "They think what?" she asked in disbelief.

Harry let out a small laugh. "Yes, darling. It's been a topic of gossip for some time now."

"I had no idea," she said, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Well, I’ve heard the whispers whenever we leave together or when I touch you, even in the smallest ways. People constantly ask, ‘What’s going on between you and your assistant?’” Harry explained, watching as Y/n’s mouth fell open in shock.

“I’m sorry that’s happening,” she said softly, feeling a twinge of guilt.

“Don’t apologize,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Let’s be honest, we make it pretty easy for rumors to spread.”

Y/n frowned at his words. “I don’t do it intentionally,” she protested.

Harry raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on his lips. "You drink from all my drinks, fix my tie every chance you get, and don’t forget how you always stand a little too close to me. It’s like you’re magnetized.”

Y/n smiled slightly embarrassed, realizing there was some truth to what he was saying. “That’s because you’re always messing with your tie, and honestly, your fruit smoothies are too good not to steal a sip,” she defended herself with a sheepish smile.

Harry chuckled, enjoying her flustered response. “You know, you don’t exactly help stop those rumors either,” Y/n pointed out, giving him a pointed look. “You’re always wiping food off my face when I’m eating, and you don’t let any other man look at me for more than two seconds without thinking about firing him or sending him a death glare.”

Harry leaned in slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Well, you eat like a slob sometimes, and as for the guys... I know what they want. Plus, you're my assistant,” he said, putting extra emphasis on the word my.

Y/n sighed, her heart racing from the closeness between them. “So… what do we do now?” she asked, her voice soft, unsure where all this tension was leading.

“Come to bed with me tonight,” Harry whispered, his voice almost pleading now. “Not like that, just to sleep but to be close… like this.” His arms slid around her waist, drawing her closer until her body pressed against his.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she searched his face, her mind torn between logic and desire. She wanted to tell him no, he technically with Bridget but her whole body wanted him.

"Just tonight," she finally murmured, feeling herself surrendering to him completely.

Harry’s expression softened with relief, and he kissed her forehead again, holding her close as though he never wanted to let go. “That’s all I need.”

The next morning came far too quickly, the first rays of sunlight creeping through the curtains. Y/n blinked against the light and stirred slightly, realizing that Harry was still wrapped around her. His head was tucked into her shoulder, his arms enveloping her in a tight, protective embrace. She felt the soft rhythm of his breathing against her skin.

She smiled softly to herself, feeling the warmth of his presence before the weight of reality began to settle back in.

"Harry," she whispered, gently running her fingers through his hair.

He groaned, pulling her tighter against him, burying his face deeper into her shoulder. "No," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "Don't want to get up."

Y/n laughed softly. "We have to go to work. We're going to be late."

Harry shook his head, refusing to move. "Work can wait. I don't want to go anywhere," he muttered stubbornly, his voice still groggy. "I like it right here."

She let out a sigh, though she couldn't help but smile. "Harry, you have meetings today. Important ones."

He hummed lazily against her skin, clearly uninterested in anything beyond the comfort of their current position. "Let them wait," he mumbled again, pressing a soft kiss to her shoulder. "I just want to stay here with you."

Her heart melted at his words, but she gently pushed his shoulder. "As tempting as that sounds, we both know you can’t ignore the world forever. Come on, Mr. Styles."

Harry finally groaned, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him. "Fine," he sighed, running a hand over his face. But as she started to move, he held onto her hand, his eyes serious as he looked up at her. "Tonight, though... after everything. Promise me you’ll be back here.”

Y/n bit her lip, feeling her resolve weakening again under his gaze. ”I promise.”

Harry's eyes softened, and with a satisfied smile, he finally let her go, watching as she reluctantly pulled herself out of bed. "Good, because I’m already counting down the minutes until then," he called after her, a teasing grin on his face.

Y/n laughed as she threw a pillow at him. "Get up, Styles. We’re already late."

Once they arrived at work, things seemed to be running smoothly—at least on the surface. Harry, of course, couldn’t resist sneaking glances at Y/n whenever he had the chance, but their schedules kept them both too busy for much interaction. Harry was tied into back to back meets. Some required Y/n to take notes other didn't. It depended on what Harry wanted/needed

Later in the day, after a particularly stressful meeting, Y/n decided to take a breather and make coffee for herself and Harry. She knew how he liked it—black, no sugar. Hers, on the other hand, was a sugary, creamy concoction. While she was stirring the two cups, she noticed Stephanie approaching her. Stephanie worked in HR and was infamous for having a not-so-subtle crush on Harry. The only times she ever really talked to Y/n were when she was fishing for information about him.

“Hi, Y/n! How are you?” Stephanie asked, flashing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I’m good, how about you, Stephanie?” Y/n replied, her polite demeanor in place as she took in Stephanie’s appearance—pale skin, black hair pinned up, and those sultry eyes. She was the picture of an office siren, always composed, always on the hunt for attention.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Stephanie said, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “But I’ve heard a few rumors going around the office, and I was hoping you could clear them up for me.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, intrigued but wary. She wasn’t typically one to indulge in office gossip, but curiosity got the better of her. “Rumors?”

Stephanie leaned in slightly. “Well, for starters… is it true that you live with Mr. Styles?”

Y/n blinked at the boldness of the question. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but she hadn’t expected Stephanie to be so direct. “Uh, yeah, I do.”

Stephanie’s eyes widened in mock surprise, her lips curling into a smirk. “Really? So it’s true then? That’s why you two always leave together.”

Y/n clenched her jaw, annoyed by Stephanie’s insinuation. Why was she acting like it was some scandal? Before Y/n could respond, Stephanie moved on to her next question.

“So… is he single?” she asked, her tone casual but filled with an undercurrent of nosiness. “I mean, I follow Bridget on Instagram, and she’s deleted every trace of him. She’s been posting stories like, ‘I deserve better,’ you know?”y/n didn't respond more of Just listening her irritation building.

"Are you two like together?" She trailed off. "Is that how you became his assistant? Is that why your desk is in his office. Everyone else thinks that ya know?" She whispered softly, now it seem liked it was just to hurt Y/n's feelings. Y/n didn't like these rumors. She just kissed Harry for the first time yesterday.

"If its true. I don't know how you manage to get your nails in that one." She said, "he's so perfect and you're.." she said, y/n mouth fell agape.

"He is single." Y/n said, straight and flat. Which was kinda true. He was single. He hasn't asked Y/n to be his girlfriend and besides he just go out of things with Bridget. He cant just jump from one relationship to another

"I knew it!" She said with a smile. "Don't take this the wrong way but you don't really seem like his type." She said and that was the final dagger. Y/n sighed staying calm trying to keep her composure.

Harry, fresh out of his meeting, appeared in the doorway. He had been loosening his tie, clearly a little frazzled, but the sight of Y/n instantly made him relax. That, however, changed when he saw who she was talking to—Stephanie. Harry had never been a fan of Stephanie’s overly forward demeanor, especially when it came to him.

His gaze softened when he saw the two coffees, realizing Y/n had made one for him. Deciding to intervene, Harry approached, his eyes trained on Y/n.

“Look who it is, the man of the hour!” Y/n said with a bit of sarcasm, sensing Harry’s approach and feeling irritated by Stephanie’s relentless questions and assumptions. She stirred his coffee absentmindedly, trying to keep her cool. Harry smiled slightly at the exchange, though his focus remained on Y/n.

Stephanie’s posture straightened the moment Harry stepped closer. In an exaggerated move, she let her hair loose from its clip, the dark waves falling perfectly around her shoulders. Y/n rolled her eyes, unimpressed.

“Whats up, Steph?” Harry asked, his voice casual, but Y/n m couldn’t help but make a face, ’wHaTs uP sTePh' y/n mouth with an exaggerated facial expressions. mocking the nickname Harry used. Stephanie, of course, was too busy staring at Harry to notice Y/n’s playful jealousy.

“Mr. Styles,” Stephanie began, her voice dripping with false sincerity, “I was just telling Y/n how impressed I am with your Starbucks deal. I know that must’ve been hard to land.”

Y/n rolled her eyes harder. That’s not what you were talking about, she thought, keeping her annoyance in check.

“Thanks, Steph,” Harry said, but his gaze kept drifting to Y/n, who was now putting the lid on his coffee.

Stephanie, seeing an opening, decided to go for it. “I was thinking… maybe we could go out to dinner sometime? I’d love to pick your brain about the company’s branding and strategy.”

Y/n, feeling her patience fray, noticed Harry’s tie was still loose. She decided to act, setting both coffees down on the counter and stepping closer to fix his tie. She didn’t bother acknowledging Stephanie’s transparent attempt at flirting—Y/n’s hands moved confidently as she straightened Harry’s tie, her fingers brushing his chest. Y/n couldn't take it. She turned around with a force smile.

"Actually Mr. Styles is a busy man. If you want to schedule dinner with him. You would have to go through me. But we can't right now because Mr. Styles has another meeting in 10 minutes. If you want to contact me. You know my extension." Y/n said, grabbing their coffees giving one of the coffees to Harry. Once free she uses her hand to grab his tie. Pulling his tie toward the elevator. Once in the elevator silence engulfed the small space. Y/n refused to look at Harry. She was pissed.

"You're mad at me?" He said looking over at her. She looked at him from the corner of her eye.

"Whats up Steph? So you have nicknames for her?" She said, not even looking at him. The elevator door open. They made their way to his office. Y/n sat at her desk in the corner. Harry with a smirk.

"You're jealous." He said, approaching her desk. Going behind her desk standing over her.

"You were really jealous even started fixing my tie right in front of her." He said with a smirk. Y/n rolled her eyes at him.

"Harry you have a zoom call to attend to in less than 7 minutes. I advise you get on your zoom." She said, not even looking at him. She was jealous. She understands that her and Harry just started this "relationship." Or whatever they want to call it. The rumors of them being together were starting to get her. Every whisper when she wasn't paying attention. Did everyone think she was sleeping with Harry? Was Harry out of her league? Y/n always thought she was beautiful but probably not beautiful enough to be with Harry.

Harry sensing that she was in deep thought. After his meeting was over. He started to act like he was having computer issues.

"Y/n my computer will not allow me to send this email." He said frustrated. Y/n didn't look up she just said "did you try refreshing it?" She said still typing on the computer.

"Yes, Just please come help me." He said desperately. She sighed walking over to his desk. She leaned over and grabbed the mouse face focusing on the computer. Harry quickly pulled her into his lap. His arm wrapped his arms around her pulling her into his chest. His head rested on her shoulder.

"Harryyy." She giggled, he smiled at her.

"You're overthinking it," Harry murmured, pressing soft kisses to Y/n's neck. "I don’t know what Stephanie said, but don’t listen to her." His touch was comforting, but Y/n's mind was still racing.

"Did you break up with Bridget?" she asked, her voice hesitant.

Harry nodded. "I did. Sent her a text this morning."

Y/n pulled back slightly, looking at him incredulously. "A text, Harry? That’s so rude."

He shrugged casually. "I didn’t want to drag it out. But I don’t want to talk about Bridget. I want to know what’s bothering you."

Y/n hesitated, her voice dropping to a mumble. "Everyone thinks I’m sleeping with you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I told you that yesterday."

"Yeah, but today I heard it for myself. And..." She trailed off, her voice sad. "They also think you’re out of my league, that I’m not your type."

Harry’s expression hardened as he looked at her. "She said that to you?" he asked, reaching for the phone on his desk. "I’ll have her fired right now."

Y/n burst out laughing, quickly reaching out to stop him from dialing. "Nooo, don’t! She’s just so in love with you that she can’t even fathom you being with someone like me."

She sighed, then added, "I told her you were single. So she’s probably planning that dinner invite any minute now."

Harry paused, narrowing his eyes slightly. "I’m single?"

Y/n nodded. "Well, you just got out of a relationship. And I don’t think it’s healthy to rush into something new. What if you still have feelings for Bridget? What if you’re just caught up in a rush of emotions and you don’t really know what you want?"

She looked down at her lap, unsure of her own words. Harry gently turned her toward him, pulling her onto his lap, her legs now draped across his.

"Y/n," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "I know exactly what I want. I want you. I’ve wanted you for a long time, but I was scared to admit it. And I know you may want to take things slow, so I’m willing to wait however long you need. Just don’t doubt how I feel about you."

He kissed her cheek gently, and Y/n felt the warmth of his words sink in, her heart swelling.

"Thank you," she whispered, her hand resting on his chest. "For being patient with me."

Harry grinned, his playfulness returning. "Patience, huh? Well, I still expect you to let me cuddle you and touch you whenever I want," he teased, kissing her cheek repeatedly, making her giggle.

"Fine, fine," Y/n laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. "But only because you’re cute."

Days turned into weeks and those weeks turned into months, Y/n and Harry being very discreet at work and at home being all over each other at home. They haven't had sex, only some kisses and intense make out sessions. But nothing pass that. Y/n toned down touching him due to rumors. Which Harry did not understand why. He didn't understand why it was such a big deal if the rumors were now true. But he did whatever made her happy. But it did kill him not to touch at work whenever she wore those skirts or today. She had on a gray and white plaid pleated mini skirt with stockings with a white button up shirt underneath a gray sweater vest. Every time Harry saw her he just wanted to touch her.

Harry had meeting and Y/n presented what they need from each branch of the business. But Harry was not paying attention to anything she said, he looked at how beautiful she was today. Harry eyes traveled slowly up her legs as she presented.

"Might wanna close your mouth. You will catch flies ." Niall whispered to him. Harry nudged him softly. Causing Niall to let out a muffled groan. Soon Y/n finished the presentation. Telling everyone if they have any questions. They could ask Harry or give the questions to her and she could get back to you within an email as soon as possible.

People were approaching her with their questions. Mostly men. She smiled and nodded along to whoever she was talking to. Answering the questions she could. Writing down the questions in her notebook if she couldn't answer. Soon lunch was brought in for everyone. Most people scurried off. Harry had a phone call to take which led to Harry stepping out for a second and Y/n explaining the last details to people.

"Y/n!" Someone yelled loudly, Y/n sighed knowing the voice and she really wanted lunch. She scheduled the event and got Italian. She loved chicken Alfredo and knew it was going to be gone by time Stephanie was finish. But Y/n was very respectful at work trying her best not to lose her temper. Her patience growing short.

"Hi Stephanie," Y/n said with a forced smile.

"You're looking good. Skirt a bit short but cute." She said, every compliment from her was backhanded. Y/n rolled her eyes.

"But I did wanna ask you about the HR portion. You want us to do team building with all branches?" She said looking at Y/n confused. Y/n flipped through her notebook. Going to the notes about with the last meeting Harry had with HR Rick.

"Yes, Yes Harry said you can divide it into groups. We want our employees to be appreciated even at our entry level of employment they should be happy to work for Styles Ban-."

"Ohh Harry, You're so comfortable with him calling him by his first name." She said looking at Y/n with a look of surprise. Y/n gave her a simple look.

"Well I live with him. So I think I know him enough to call him Harry." She said, closing her notebook. Looking at the line of food hoping its more Alfredo left.

"Yea about that.. how did that happen?" She asked inquiring about her.

"My boyfriend cheated on me like a year or 2 ago and I had to leave, so Harry offered me a room at his place." She said,

"Ohh and you're still there?" She said with a look of fake worrying.

"Yea. He says he likes having me there."

"Ohh love he felt sorry for you and offered you a place now hes too nice to ask you to leave. You Americans are soooo oblivious." She said her British accent thick. Y/n had it with her. She should have let Harry fire her when she had the chance.

Just as Y/n was about to respond to Stephanie, Holly, the receptionist, appeared at the door, holding a to-go container of Alfredo.

"Y/n, Mr. Styles told me to bring this to you," Holly said with a soft smile, interrupting the tension.

Y/n smiled, him grabbing her Alfredo warmed her heart. "He did? Where is he?" Y/n asked wanting to thank him.

Holly, nonchalant as ever, shrugged. "He's in his office with his girlfriend."

"His... girlfriend?" Y/n repeated, her stomach dropping.

"Yeah, Bridget," Holly clarified, unaware of the effect her words had on Y/n. She gave a quick nod and left, leaving Y/n standing there in a daze.

Stephanie scoffed. "I should’ve known he was going back to her. Men like him... they always go for the 'Bridgets' of the world," she added with a smug tone.

Y/n didn’t have time to process Stephanie's words or her own rising emotions. Without thinking, she walked toward Harry's office, the container of Alfredo forgotten in her hand. She reached his office and paused, her heart pounding in her chest. Slowly, she peeked through the side of the large glass doors.

There he was—Harry, holding Bridget gently, his arms around her, and he kissed the top of her head tenderly. Y/n felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. Was she too late? Had she taken things too slow? She had waited, unsure of how fast to move with him after everything, but now it seemed like it didn’t matter.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she quickly scurried away, retreating back to the meeting room. She couldn’t break down now. Not here. There was still work to do. She sat down, forcing herself to breathe, to hold it together before the meeting resumed.

Harry made his way back right as the meeting started. As the meeting dragged on, Harry fidgeted in his seat. . His gaze flicked to Y/n, who was sitting rigidly beside him, eyes focused on the presenter. He leaned over, lowering his voice to a playful whisper.

“This guy is boring. Seriously, how is he still talking?” Harry smirked, hoping to get at least a smile out of her.

Y/n didn’t even blink. She continued staring straight ahead

Harry, undeterred, leaned a little closer. “Come on, let’s sneak out go home and watch a movie together.”

Still no response. Her silence was killing him. Normally, she’d at least give him a playful nudge or tell him to behave, but today… nothing. It was as if he wasn’t even there.

Harry sighed, deciding to push his luck. He reached under the table and lightly brushed his fingers against her leg, trying to make her crack a smile or even acknowledge him.

But instead of a playful response, Y/n slapped his hand away, still not looking at him.

Fed up, she finally leaned toward him, her voice a harsh whisper. “Harry, I swear if you don’t stop, I’m going to lose it. Pay attention to the meeting.”

Harry blinked, stunned by the icy tone in her voice. He straightened up, trying to read her expression, but she wouldn’t even look at him. She was laser-focused on the presenter, as though he hadn’t just tried to joke his way through the most boring presentation ever.

He frowned, sitting back in his chair. What the hell was going on?

When the meeting finally took a break, Y/n stood abruptly, making her way toward the restroom. Harry watched her leave, his concern growing. This wasn’t like her—something was definitely off.

After a few minutes, she came back and headed straight for her seat. Before she could sit down, Harry stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

“Y/n, what’s going on? You’re not acting like yourself. Did I do something?” he asked, his voice low but filled with worry.

Y/n looked up at him, her heart pounding with a mix of frustration and hurt. She tried to walk around him, but he stayed firmly in her way.

Finally, unable to hold it in any longer, she let out a quiet but sharp whisper, the words tumbling out in a rush. “What’s going on? You really want to know, Harry? You don’t actually want me. You just don’t want anyone else to have me! You pull me along, make me feel like I matter to you, but then you go and do whatever you want with whoever you want!”

Her voice was shaking, and she couldn’t stop herself, even though she was trying to keep her volume low to avoid attracting attention but her voice kept getting higher and higher the angrier she got. “You make me feel like I’m just… here for your convenience! Like you can just keep me close enough to mess with my head, but not close enough to actually commit to anything real. I’m so tired of it, Harry. I’m tired of waiting around, hoping that maybe one day you’ll finally decide I’m worth more.”

Harry’s face went blank for a moment, stunned by her words. He hadn’t realized she’d been holding all of this in.

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, but she couldn’t stop. The hurt was pouring out too fast. “I’m done, Harry. I’m not going to sit around while you lead me on. I’ll be out of your house tonight. You can be with Bridget or whoever else you want, but I’m not staying for it.”

At the mention of Bridget’s name, Harry froze. The pieces clicked into place—Y/n must have seen him and Bridget earlier.

For a moment, the world seemed to still. The chatter of people around them became a distant hum, and Harry stood there, hands in his pockets, looking at her with an unreadable expression. After a beat of silence, he spoke, his voice calm but firm. “Are you done?”

Y/n’s eyes widened at his casual tone. His calmness only fueled her frustration. She turned to walk away, but Harry grabbed her hand, pulling her back toward him. His other arm slipped around her waist, holding her close to him, not caring about the curious stares from the people around them.

“Bridget wanted to know why I broke up with her,” Harry said quietly, his voice steady, his gaze locked onto hers. “She didn’t like that I ended things with her over a text message. She needed closure, so I gave it to her. That’s what you saw.”

Y/n tried to pull away again, her anger rising, but Harry held her firmly in place. His voice softened as he continued. “I told her I broke up with her because I’m in love with my assistant. I ended things with her weeks ago, Y/n. She only came today because she wanted answers. And let me remind you—you’re the one who wanted to take things slow. So that’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve been giving you the space you asked for, letting you set the pace.”

Y/n froze, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind reeling. His words hung in the air, and as the truth began to settle in, the anger and hurt inside her started to fade. She swallowed hard. "You’re… in love with me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. “Yes, I’m in love with you. I’ve wanted you for a long time, but I didn’t want to rush you or scare you away. So I waited. For you.”

Y/n’s breath hitched. The anger that had fueled her was melting away, replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the weight of his words. He wasn’t stringing her along or playing games—he had been waiting for her, just as she had asked.

“I’m sorry for getting upset,” she mumbled, feeling a bit sheepish now. Harry smiled down at her, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“No, it’s fine,” he replied softly. “I should’ve told you I was seeing her but she showed up today expecting answers.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead gently, the gesture full of warmth. But then Y/n suddenly snapped out of the emotional haze, realizing exactly where they were—in the middle of a meeting room, surrounded by their colleagues. Harry’s hand was still firmly around her waist, the other holding hers. Her eyes darted around the room, catching the curious, wide-eyed stares from everyone. A wave of embarrassment hit her like a ton of bricks, and she instinctively tried to pull away.

But Harry didn’t let go. He kept her hand in his, not even remotely fazed by the attention. In fact, he seemed amused by it.

He chuckled softly, feeling her tense up. “Ohh, now you’re embarrassed?” he teased, his voice low and playful. “After yelling at me in front of everyone, now you’re the one embarrassed?”

Y/n rolled her eyes at his teasing, though she couldn’t fight the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She glanced up at him with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “It’s your turn to present,” she muttered, trying to regain some semblance of composure as she slid back into her chair.

Harry grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Right. Guess I better get to it,” he said, straightening his posture and walking confidently toward the podium, completely unbothered by the room full of watching eyes.

As he reached the front, he cleared his throat dramatically, pausing for a beat before flashing a quick, mischievous smile. “Sorry about the... brief intermission,” he began, glancing back at Y/n with a playful smirk. “But in my defense, when your assistant’s as distracting as mine, it’s hard to stay on track.”

The room erupted in laughter, the tension dissolving instantly. Y/n groaned quietly, sinking a little lower in her chair, though the smile on her face betrayed her true Feelings.

Once the meeting ended, Y/N could feel the eyes of the office staff lingering on her. She made her way to the elevator with Harry close behind, not stopping to acknowledge any of the employees. As soon as the elevator doors closed, Harry wasted no time pulling her toward him, looking down at her with that familiar intensity.

"You think you're cute, don't you? After that little presentation," she teased, smiling up at him. Harry's hands rested on her lower back as he smirked.

"I do, actually. Very," he replied with a grin that made her giggle. She let out a soft sigh, unable to deny how adorable he was.

"Now that everyone knows we're together, I can kiss you freely," he murmured, smirking as he leaned down to place a soft kiss on her lips,

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #watermelon sugar #harrys house #fanfic #love in fine print

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rosyrosethings · 9 months ago

Text

The Mushroomer | friendly ghost!harry

Summary: Y/n moves into a small house in the woods and she soon realizes the house is haunted. But it really turns out to be not so bad at all to have a ghost when he's as kind as the one living with her.

A/n: Harry's a sweet ghost - so nothing scary here. But it is a little sad (with a happy ending). Also, I took some artistic liberties on what ghosts can do with this one shot so you may need to suspend your disbelief a bit. xoxo

Word Count: 11.5k

Warning: smut, talk of depression & suicide, loneliness (Harry's a sad ghost but Y/n makes him happy)

✨🍂',•* 🍄 *•,'🍂✨✨🍂',•* 🍄 *•,'🍂✨

Y/n had been living in the small house in the woods for only a couple of weeks when she started noticing strange things. She'd be typing on her laptop, cozy and focused when suddenly the tea kettle would whistle, breaking her out of the moment and scaring the life out of her. Somehow, not only would her tea kettle be on the burner but it was magically filled with water -both of which she had not done.

Or like the other evening when she was getting ready to settle into bed and she remembered she needed to turn off the lights in her kitchen so she grumpily got up and padded into the living room to see with her own eyes as her kitchen lights shut themselves off. It was nice to not have to walk all that way (which really wasn't all that far) but the creep factor of that happening was quite substantial.

But there were a lot of little things she'd been side-eyeing that made her wonder what was going on. However, she couldn't ignore it that morning. The way the blankets next to her were raised up as if someone were lying underneath them with her.

She had just woken up and her eyes were bleary and tired but the drizzle of morning light shining in her room made it clear that something was in the bed right next to her. Reaching toward the human-sized lump she blinked her eyes slowly and the moment her hand came into contact with the wool it suddenly deflated and dropped to the bed. She sat up and looked around the quiet space of her small room with her heart pounding in her chest.

"Is someone here?"

She was answered with silence. Pulling the blanket back she found exactly what she imagined. Nothing.

But then the kettle was going off and she jumped from the bed, quickly putting her slippers on her feet before dashing into the kitchen to shut off the burner.

"What is going on? Is someone here? Just…" She put her hands over her face in frustration as she groaned and when she pulled her hands away, there was her favorite mug sitting out for her already.

She remembered emptying the kettle and cleaning her mug and putting it away the night before. This was all impossible.

But she was in the mood for a hot cup of tea so she reluctantly grabbed the mug and that's when she saw her tea ball inside already filled with her favorite English breakfast tea leaves.

Pouring the hot water into her mug she peered around the kitchen, "Thank you. If there is someone there. This was nice. But… kind of creepy."

So, Y/n's day was off to an interesting start, and even though she'd been experiencing strange things and there was a small part of her that wondered if perhaps she had some kind of friendly ghost in her house, that day she was especially present and keeping her eyes open for anything odd.

Which led her to do some research on the old house she'd bought. She wondered who'd lived there before her. She only knew what was public. The property tax amount, and how many times the house had been bought and sold over the years (that number was surprisingly high). And that made her wonder if there was a connection. Had others been experiencing strange things in the home too? Had they been so spooked that they left, selling it to the next person to start the process all over again?

Of course, nothing that was happening was scary. Not really. It was strange, yes. It got her heart rate up a few times… but in the end, everything had been friendly or harmless gestures. Helpful even.

She didn't get much writing done that day, but rather she did find some interesting things online. It took her some time to get down to any names of people who'd lived in the house before (she didn't find many), but there was an old article from 1999 about a young professor who lived in town who died after going mushroom picking and eating the wrong kind. The article was more of an informative warning kind of story but there were some details that caught her interest.

The man would often forage for mushrooms being somewhat of an expert, but even with all of his knowledge he still mistook a bad one for a good one. Supposedly he died in his home all alone. And he was called by the name Harry. It didn't say where Harry lived exactly just that he was a professor from the area and he'd lived in the woods.

And that story led her to other smaller accounts of Harry the teacher and mushroomer who lived in the woods. She was so fascinated by the little bits of information she found that she hadn't realized the sun was already setting. She'd been at her desk reading what little she could find about this mysterious man who died in 1985, likely in the very house she was sitting in. He was 30 when he died.

"Mushrooms…" she spoke to herself as she recalled the mushrooms carved into the top of the banisters on the porch.

Closing her laptop she flicked on a lamp and then turned on her front porch light to double-check the wooden banisters and sure enough, mushrooms.

She placed her hand over the tops of them and bent to look at the work. It was crude, not carved by a wood maker but maybe an amateur. Perhaps Harry himself had carved them. Over the years, of course, the wood was aged and worn from the elements but it was clearly meant to be the shape of a mushroom.

She made a mental note to buy some varnish to cover them and make sure they didn't erode further. To keep the artist's work intact.

"I like these," she smiled and looked around herself, not sure if the ghost, or whatever it was, might be watching. She knew she might be losing her mind, entertaining such thoughts, but what else could it be? Surely something was afoot. Luckily, whatever it was, seemed to be kind and liked to get her tea started for her.

Y/n turned on her radio as she made cucumber and cheese sandwiches and hummed along. She'd peek behind herself every now and then in hopes of seeing something but that night nothing more came. Just when she was beginning to find the whole idea of having a ghost exciting, he suddenly wanted to be quiet.

✨🍂',•* 🍄 *•,'🍂✨

She wanted to sit outside to write that day. Took her hot tea with a little honey that morning and an English muffin with a jammy egg and extra butter. Then she piled the wooden bench with blankets and a couple of pillows and spread herself along the space and began to write.

Y/n loved her solitude. Loved the quiet and the freedom to live her life as she wanted day to day. She might call herself lucky that she didn't have to work a traditional 9-5 job but being a writer and trying to keep on schedule with her publisher was quite difficult at times. But she wouldn't trade the stress of getting her work done on deadline for anything. Especially not when she got to enjoy such peace in her life.

She wasn't rich. Not even close, but she did alright for herself. She'd been able to buy the adorable little house in the woods all on her own after all. So she was grateful for her life.

Content.

When she heard rustling leaves coming from the side of the house she stopped typing and kept her ears perked to listen. It sounded like a large animal moving through from the woods.

Getting up slowly and as quietly as she could she carefully stepped toward the edge of the porch and looked down at the side of the house to see nothing but dried brown leaves.

She was still hoping to see her ghost. Hoping he'd show himself –if there was a ghost (though she was almost certain by then). But everything had been quiet since before she ate dinner the night before.

Pursing her lips, she was a little disappointed that she still had not seen anything substantial yet. But as she turned to walk back to her bench, there, atop her closed laptop was a mushroom. A freshly picked mushroom. She wasn't sure what kind it was but it was clearly wild with a bit of dirt still at its base.

Plucking it up between her pointer finger and thumb she laughed as she moved her eyes all around her, "Is this from you, Harry? Harry the Mushroomer? That's what they call you, you know."

She walked down the steps of her porch to the front yard with the mushroom in her hand and peered around, "Thank you for this, but I'm not sure I'm comfortable eating it. Didn't you die because you ate the wrong kind? Accidentally poisoned yourself?"

Y/n knew that if anyone could see her they'd think she was a crazy woman talking to herself like that. Luckily she had no visible neighbors.

"Well? Are you gonna show yourself or just keep doing little things like this? It's okay if this is it. I don't mind, but it's hard to talk to you when I can't hear or see you."

In almost an instant there was a figure at the limn of her eye and she turned to see a tall man looking at her. She waited for a moment before speaking as his appearance seemed to slowly fill in… like he was being painted to life before her eyes.

He pointed at her hand, "It's safe. I promise."

She looked down at the mushroom in her palm and then back at the man, "Are you… Harry?"

He stepped back, the lines around him seemed to fade and Y/n reached toward him, "Don't leave! Please. I'd like to talk if you can."

"I can't leave."

"You can't… Because you're stuck here? Attached to this house?"

He nodded, the vibrant color of his skin filling in again and she noticed his eyes were a soft green like the moss in the small pond up the path.

"I'm sorry. It must be hard to be stuck like that."

"It is."

"Did you carve those mushrooms there," she pointed toward the banister.

He nodded again. She didn't know if that's just how he was, quiet and shy. Or maybe it was because he was not used to interacting with people anymore.

"Um… thank you for the mushroom. And for the tea. You seem to like to help."

He looked like a real man standing in her front yard with his brown shoes in the dead leaves that were scattered about. He wore a cream-colored sweater and khaki pants.

"I do like to help. You can eat that. They were wrong."

"Who was wrong? About what?"

She watched him blink and look toward the porch before he motioned to the house, "May I?"

Y/n grinned, not quite believing what was happening but fascinated all at the same time, "Of course. It's your house, Harry."

He looked at her for a second, the smallest bit of a smile spread across his face before he nodded and began to move up toward the porch, Y/n following behind him.

She stopped and watched him walk toward the wooden bench and sit down, as if he were too weary to stand, though she never imagined ghosts feeling tired like that. He stared out toward the trees before he spoke, "I did it on purpose. It wasn't an accident."

She stitched her brows together and wrapped an arm around the wooden post at the top of the steps, "You poisoned yourself?"

He nodded, still staring toward the yard and trees with their changing leaves, "I wish I hadn't but I was sad and I wanted to stop feeling sad. And then everyone thought it was just an accident. A mistake. But it wasn't."

Y/n stepped toward him cautiously, not wanting to scare him off, "Can I sit next to you?"

He looked up at her before moving his mournful eyes back toward the woods. She took that as a yes, so she carefully sat on the bench next to her sad ghost.

"Why were you sad?"

He shook his head slowly, "Lonely. But it's much worse like this. No one wants to talk to a spirit. Everyone gets spooked."

"You can talk to me. I'm not spooked," she spoke quietly and he looked at her again, brows softening as she continued, "If you want we can be friends."

"Why?"

"Why what? Why am I not spooked? Why do I want to be your friend?" She raised her brows.

Harry didn't answer, though. He only kept his gaze on hers. She figured his why was to all of the above. He wasn't used to people anymore.

"Well… you've been very welcoming toward me since I moved in. Kind even. Getting my tea ready, that was clever," she laughed and watched as his shoulders seemed to relax, "That's not spooky. It was helpful. And I like that you wanted to be nice so I'd like to be your friend."

"Okay. Just know… I can't leave. So if you feel bothered the best I can do is step outside or into another room. People have tried having the house blessed. A priest came in once and tried to get me to leave. I wish I wasn't stuck here. I hoped that somehow that would work, with the priest, but it didn't. I'd rather be gone but instead, I'm trapped, halfway here and halfway there."

"So, you're the kind of ghost that can pick things up and –well you also look like a real man too. To me you do."

He shrugged, "I don't know. I guess. I've never met another ghost."

The pair sat on the porch together for nearly two hours. Y/n was intrigued and had quite a few questions but she also told him about herself. At one point Harry could see she was chilled so he handed her blanket from underneath him and helped her drape it over her shoulders.

She couldn't imagine how a man like him had found such a fate. Every now and then when he spoke she noted that he had a natural charisma, a charm that certainly had caught the eye of a few ladies at one time. He was smart and kind. And she couldn't help but notice how handsome he was too. But mostly he was sad. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hold him if he'd let her. Tell him he wouldn't be alone anymore and that it was going to be okay.

When she made dinner for herself she used the mushroom he'd picked and he told her where she could find more of them. That they could forage together if she were up for it. He made her tea and told her that she liked her tea the same way his mother did.

It felt like she was talking to someone she knew a long time ago and that they were just reconnecting after years of being apart. It took a bit to warm up but once they got going Harry was a regular conversationalist. She could picture him as a professor in front of students relating his biology teachings to a story about being chased down the street by a pack of wild dogs.

He was funny. Y/n liked Harry a lot. She hadn't really gotten any work done that day but there wasn't a part of her that regretted that.

When the sun had gone down she turned on all the lamps and let Harry sit in her comfy chair near the wood-burning stove (that he installed all by himself in 1981) and take his pick of book to read from her bookshelf.

She finally wound up getting a decent amount of writing done with Harry just there reading. It was nice to have a companion with her. She loved her peace and quiet but it was easy for her to adjust to Harry being there. Maybe because he had been there all along.

When she was getting tired and couldn't write anymore she looked over at Harry and noticed that he was still fully immersed in the book, "I think I'm gonna go to bed. Um… you can do whatever you want. And no need to hide or anything. Okay? I like you around."

"Oh. Yeah. Of course. I'll just be here. Won't bother you."

Y/n smiled at him as she stood up, "You're not a bother. I'll see you in the morning?"

He smiled and nodded at her, "Thank you."

✨🍂',•* 🍄 *•,'🍂✨

"So you do sleep at all, Harry?" Y/n asked him as she poured hot water over her tea.

"Yes. That's mostly all I do. I like to be unconscious. Pretend I'm not here."

Y/n felt so sad hearing the way he spoke. Even in death, he seemed to be depressed, sad.

"And where do you normally sleep?"

He shrugged, the book he had been reading from the night before was in his hand, "Wherever. In the bed sometimes."

Y/n looked at him, squinting her eyes, "Next to me? Like you did the other morning?"

He looked down and nodded, "Sorry. I won't do it again. Just like to feel like I'm not alone and when you're sleeping I know I won't scare you because you won't even know I'm there. But," he looked up at her quickly, "I've never done anything weird. I would never. It was just to be closer is all. Not in a weird way-" he shook his head and grumbled something under his breath, "But that still sounds weird to you I'm sure. I meant no harm."

She reached her hand toward him, almost not expecting to feel anything but when her finger grazed the fabric of his sweater she was startled and stepped back. But the moment Harry realized she'd gotten spooked he was gone in an instant. The book he'd been holding lying on her tile countertop.

"No. Harry don't leave, please. I… just didn't expect to be able to touch your sweater. It's… I promise it wasn't because I was scared of you. Please come back. I'm sorry. This is all new for me and I was surprised is all."

She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see him, but he was hazy, not quite there, "I don't want to scare you. I'm used to just staying in the shadows, Y/n. I don't think I could bear having you be frightened of me."

Moving toward him slowly she put her palms facing out to him in conciliation, "I'm not frightened. I promise. I just didn't realize I'd feel it when I reached for you. I want you to stay. I like you here. I like your company. I like seeing you. And now I'll know better than to be surprised when I can feel the wool on your sweater next time."

"Are you sure?"

She nodded, putting her hands down to her side, "I'm sure. And I don't want you to be skittish around me either. You don't need to disappear like that. Let's just get used to one another okay? But I'm not frightened. I think I already prefer you to most people I've met, in fact."

That got him smiling and it almost appeared like he was blushing as he looked down at the floor, a dimple scored into his cheek.

Quite the handsome ghost when he was smiling. He blinked his eyes as his form became tangible again, corporeal.

She took a deep breath and reached for him again, slowly that time, placing her palm up for him to reach out toward. She watched as he lifted his hand and gradually pushed it forward until she could feel the whispy brush of his skin on her fingertips before he pressed his palm over hers. Like a real person, with skin and everything.

"I can feel you. Can you feel me too?" She asked.

He nodded as his grin spread, "Yes. That's nice."

"It is nice. See? Nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to worry about," he repeated, his eyes on hers.

"Can we rewind? Go back to what we were just talking about before I got all jumpy? About you sleeping in the bed?"

"Okay."

She moved her fingers around his hand and squeezed it gently, "If you ever need to be close, it's okay if you come to sleep in my bed with me. This is your house too, Harry. It was your house first. I don't want you to feel lonely in your home. Just because you're… well, a spirit, that doesn't mean you deserve a life of isolation. I'm your friend now. Okay?"

"Okay. Thank you."

Y/n found that having Harry around somehow inspired her and kept her focused. She'd gotten more work done than she had in a very long time. Perhaps it was just that there was another presence there with her, watching and paying attention. Somehow it seemed to keep her on task. He was quiet most of the day. He'd read or take walks outside and bring mushrooms back when he found them. In the evenings they'd chat and she often caught herself wishing he was a real live man because if she were being very honest he had all the qualities she'd want in a partner. But on top of that, he was tortuously handsome. And it seemed the more she knew of him the more attractive he was.

He was quite humorous at times, a natural storyteller. And it seemed he enjoyed making her smile. He listened to her talk as well and remembered every detail of every word she spoke. Like she was worth listening to. It's something she didn't often find with other people.

Sleeping next to him at night was also increasingly difficult as now there was a sentient and conscious being lying next to her when she was feeling a bit lustful (as did happen on occasion inevitably). But there was little she could do to satiate herself in her bed when Harry was there too.

So she wound up changing her schedule slightly, to have her showers at night and find relief under the warm stream of water before she climbed into bed with him, who took up a lot more space than one would assume a ghost would.

He was always perfectly polite. Too polite maybe. But then again she had no idea how that would work with him anyway. Yes, she could feel his skin and touch his clothes and once had the pleasure of running her fingers into his hair… but certainly they couldn't… get intimate?

Though, she'd imagined how his lips might feel or those big hands on her hips or her waist. She'd imagine his eyes peering at her as he undressed (she'd never seen him remove any clothing but she often wondered what was under his clothes). She knew it was wrong. Felt guilty for thinking about him like that.

But she was a warm-blooded woman with certain needs that every other woman had just the same. And Harry, ghost or not, was easy to look and he was even easier to trust.

He was sweet.

And she was ovulating.

So even taking care of herself in her shower didn't quite scratch the itch by the time she got into the bedroom to find Harry already sitting with the blankets over his lap and his back against the headboard and his nose in a book. It was like having a really hot friend who lived with you who you knew you could never do anything like that with.

"Feel better?" He asked her as he closed the book and watched her take off her sweater.

She didn't remember telling him she hadn't felt good before her shower. In fact, he hadn't ever asked her before if she felt better after her shower so it made her wonder if he was paying closer attention than she realized. Could he tell that she had a change in mood? That her hormones were fluctuating? Surely not.

"Um, I think a little better," she smiled and slid into the bed, wishing she could climb into his lap and lift up his sweater to feel his skin. She was curious about him and wondered if there was more to explore with him. Was there anything under the clothes? Did he ever have those natural human urges he likely had when he was living?

"You seem a little tense. Would you like a tea? I think camomile is good for helping you calm."

She sighed, "I'm just… yeah. A tea sounds good. Maybe that'll help."

Harry left her alone in her room and she watched as the light in the kitchen gently spread out and illuminated the hallway off the bedroom. With a few minutes to herself, she reached into her soft night pants and rubbed over her panties. It was risky and she knew he might return any minute but she was hidden by the covers over her lap.

And it felt good. Obviously, the shower had been nice but there was something about doing it in her own bed on a dry surface that was her favorite. And she was already wetting the material of her underwear as she pushed the fabric aside and pressed her fingers directly over her clit. She could be quick.

A quiet gasp fell from her lips when she began hitting the right spot, fingers quickly swiping back and forth, body heating, heart pounding.

But then he was there at the door with a steaming mug in his hands, standing still like he'd been the one to see a ghost. She was covered up but by the way he was looking at her…

She slowly moved her hand away and smiled, "Uh, that was fast. Thank you."

He placed the mug on the table next to her bed quietly and looked away from her, "I can give you some privacy. I'm sorry."

Oh. He knew what she was up to. She'd been so stupid to think she could rub one out fast enough without him realizing.

"No, I'm sorry. I… since you've been around, or since I knew you were here I have to kind of… God, I'm embarrassed," she put her face in her hands and groaned.

"Don't feel embarrassed. It's normal. Nothing shameful about any of that. I was a biology professor after all."

Y/n looked up at him, "You're always too nice, Harry. I feel so awful. You probably don't even… well… you know. Things are different for you now than when you were alive?"

He cocked his head to the side, "Things are different yes. But if you mean in terms of feeling stirred, aroused… I can -still. But it's been a very long time."

She swallowed, unable to quite comprehend how that was possible, "So… you, as a ghost, can like feel that way? Does your body react as well?"

He puffed out a laugh and looked down at the wood floors below his feet, "Yes. Mostly. I still have all the feelings and emotions within my consciousness as when I was alive. And yes, I feel it and it can be visible if I let it."

Visible. That did nothing to quell her growing curiosity.

"That's… I guess I don't really know much about spirits, but I'm surprised."

"To be honest, I don't know much about myself like this either. I just know I still feel emotions and physically can feel…. excited. And that I can only go as far as the perimeter of the land this house is on. If I step past the boundary I wind up back inside the house. You're the first person I've really interacted with. Everyone else was terrified. I don't blame them."

"You can come back if you want," she patted the spot on the bed next to her. "If I didn't make you uncomfortable. I'm good now I think. Sorry to make this weird."

"Are you sure? I can leave for a bit–"

"No. No, I'm over it now," she took a sip of the tea he'd made her. He always seemed to know exactly how to make her tea.

Harry pulled the blankets back and settled into bed next to her before she flicked off the light on her lamp.

"I'm sorry I interrupted."

"Don't be sorry. You did nothing wrong."

She wished she could ask him to hold her. Just to be in his arms, to know what that would feel like. And she was sure that if she asked he would because he was so kind. But he'd just caught her playing with herself and she felt like a pervert and she was sure he'd wonder what her intentions were. Hell, she wasn't even sure of her own intentions at that point.

So, she closed her eyes and tried to push down how embarrassed she felt and the subtle ache between her thighs. Perhaps she'd get on birth control so she wouldn't ovulate anymore. She felt out of control, led by her id, her hormones calling the shots.

Eventually, she found sleep, and for a while, she forgot all about her misdeed and her aroused state in exchange for much-needed rest.

But upon waking she found that she'd snuggled into Harry tightly. Her cheek smushed against the sweater over his chest and his arms were placed around her back. It felt like waking up in the arms of a real man. It was soft and cozy. She felt warm and safe.

She knew he could sleep. He told her as much so she wasn't sure if he was awake or not which was her reason to keep still and bask in the moment. As much as she loved her solitude, it hadn't dawned on her until then how much she missed human contact. It was lovely to feel him so close like that. He felt solid as if he had a real live body.

Slowly the light from the sun began to brighten her room as the morning grew later. She probably should get up but it was so hard to peel herself away from Harry. Not only did she not want to wake him, she wanted to enjoy him holding her for as long as she could.

"If you need to get up you can."

She startled, tilting her head back to look up at him, "I didn't know you were awake. I didn't want to -wake you."

He was cute. His face half-covered with her pillow as he looked down at her, "I know. But I am awake. You can stay here like this for as long as you like, though. I don't mind."

Harry adjusted his face into the pillow, pink lips set in a soft smile as he kept his eyes on hers. He was beautiful and she could think of nothing better to do in that moment than to reach her hand up to his neck and stretch up toward him so she could give him a quick peck on his mouth.

Maybe it was her sleepy brain or just the soft moment they were enveloped in together. Perhaps it was the way he was looking at her that did it. But whatever made her do it felt like something she needed to do. To feel.

And then he kissed her back. It was like kissing a man. A real live man. His palms slid over her back softly, upward to her shoulder blades as he continued moving his lips with hers. Gentle and slow. Sleepy.

It did nothing to make her hormones calm. Which just led to her sliding her hand down his sturdy chest and to his hip. She wouldn't take it too far, she was just curious what the skin under his sweater would feel like as she edged the tips of her fingers upward and he was still real underneath too. Taut skin and sinew over muscle and bone. Moving her palm higher up his stomach she found herself quite pleasantly surprised by the way he felt under her hand.

But he stopped abruptly, sitting up and clambering out of bed, "Sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did that. You… I'm really sorry."

She looked up at him from her spot on the bed and blinked her tired eyes, "Why are you sorry? I kissed you first."

"You did?" He shook his head, "I thought I started it. I'm not used to this. I don't know what I'm doing." He ran his hands into his hair and stepped around the bed toward the door, "I'm sorry. I think I need to… just some time to think."

She watched him walk away out of sight, blindsided by what had just happened. Of course, the whole thing was wild. It was insane even. He was a ghost. It wasn't like they could be together. She wished things were different, she really did. She needed to pull herself together. Harry had real feelings, he'd told her as much.

Taking a warm shower she tried to reason with herself about what had happened. But the more she considered it all, the more she wondered what a future would look like if she were to fall in love with a ghost. She didn't want to indulge in those thoughts but she couldn't help it. She didn't like being around people and rarely needed to leave her little house. Would it be so bad to just be with Harry? He was lonely and needed companionship just like she did and she really enjoyed his company. He seemed to be the perfect companion, the only issue being that he was technically dead. And she had no idea how a physical relationship would work but she was beginning to think, after that kiss, that was in fact possible.

She could stay "single" forever and if anyone asked why she never married or dated she'd just say she preferred to be alone. No one would need to know about Harry.

Y/n shook her head as she dried her hair. She was losing it. Why was her mind going there? Yes, maybe she was a little lonely at times, and he was kind and nice to talk to, and he was clearly a very attractive… specter. But he wasn't a living man.

Opening up her laptop after having made herself a tea, she tried to ignore the pit in her stomach. Harry hadn't come back. Or if he had he wasn't showing himself to her. Had it really been all that bad for them to kiss? Probably. She shouldn't have done it. And now he was the one who was spooked. She couldn't blame him. It'd been a long time since he'd had a person to even talk to who knew of his existence and the one that he finally does show himself to winds up developing silly feelings for him and wants to kiss.

Y/n hardly got any writing done that day. Harry stayed away. The house was quiet. She didn't want to push him to show himself or to talk to her. If he needed space, she'd give it to him.

✨🍂',•* 🍄 *•,'🍂✨

She figured that the worst part about having a ghost was knowing he was there but not knowing where he was or what he was seeing her do. If he was even watching. Harry didn't return that first night nor the following day. He didn't sleep next to her in bed and he didn't prepare her tea.

She started to wonder if he was going to come back at all.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry for scaring you like that. I hope you can forgive me and come back. I promise I'll never be so reckless again. I just had a lapse in judgment."

Her phone rang, startling her from her speech to her ghost. She had an inkling he was there and listening.

"Hello?"

It was her cousin Sil. She had promised to bring over a small kitchen table, something Y/n didn't have when she first moved into the house.

"Oh, tonight? Sure. Um… yeah. I'll be here."

She would be happy to have a kitchen table and chairs finally but she wasn't really up for company. Hopefully, Sil would be in and out quickly, though getting to her house in the woods was quite the drive.

"Harry, my cousin is coming to drop off some furniture. I'm just letting you know," she looked around the space and the room was empty and quiet still. Her heart dropped as she sighed.

But she had to stop moping and pull herself together before Sil arrived. She put on something a little nicer and swiped a little mascara onto her lashes before spritzing herself with her favorite perfume. Then she filled her kettle with fresh water and pulled down a couple of mugs and plates and then sliced up strawberries and cantaloupe.

She kept herself busy until she heard a knock at her door and put on a smile before opening it to see not only Sil, but a man wearing a thick flannel just behind her.

"This is Memo. He offered to help with the table. It's kind of heavy."

"Oh, of course! Thank you! And it's nice to meet you, Memo."

Y/n propped open the door and then she and Sil got to work carrying in the chairs as Memo shimmied the table inside on his own. When everything was set up in her little kitchen she was quite pleased with the way it looked.

"I love it. Thank you so much, Sil," she pulled her cousin in for a hug and then reached for Memo's arm and squeezed, "And I appreciate your help. Thank you."

"Your house is amazing. Ever get lonely living out here by yourself?"

Y/n looked up at the man and shrugged, "Um… not really. I like the peace out here. It's great for inspiration."

"She's a writer," Sil interjected, "Already has two published books and one on the way. She's the famous one I was talking about."

Y/n laughed and put her hand up, "I'm not famous. That's an exaggeration…"

"Well, she's a published author and her first book sold almost, what… like 50,000 copies?"

"That's average at best. I'm not… I'm lucky but I'm not anywhere near famous," Y/n looked at Memo and then at her cousin. "It pays the bills. And I love it, so…" She turned toward her kitchen counter, wanting to change the subject, "Would you guys care for some tea or coffee? I've got fruit sliced up as well?"

"I could go for some tea. Thank you, Y/n."

Memo smiled at her softly and her cousin raised her brows with a nod, "Sure. We'll stay a little longer."

Y/n prepared tea and placed the fruit and plates on her new kitchen table before joining Sil and Memo to sit. She learned that Memo was Sil's neighbor and when Y/n commented that she thought they were cute together Sil quickly corrected her cousin, "Oh, we're not… No," she laughed. "He's just a friend."

"I'm as single as they come," he winked at Y/n before taking another sip of his tea.

She found that to be a strange thing to say. Was he suggesting something? Y/n didn't know but she definitely wasn't interested. Her mind was still on Harry and wondering where he was, if he was watching everything.

When the fruit was all eaten and their mugs were dry Y/n got up to place everything in her sink and Memo followed, "I can help. Let me wash the dishes."

She looked back at Sil who was grinning, a raised brow in her direction. Y/n shook her head and rolled her eyes. Maybe it was a setup. She'd be nice but there was no way in hell–

"What the… shit!" Memo stepped back from the sink quickly and turned, his arms out exasperatedly.

He had water all over the front of his flannel and Y/n covered her mouth to hide her laugh.

"Something just… I turned on the water and it was like the stream just sprayed out right at me. Got all over my shirt!"

Sil stepped passed Memo and turned off the water then turned it back on to check, "Seems okay now. Maybe it was just air in the pipe or something?"

"Sorry. That has never happened. Would you like a towel?" Y/n offered.

"Yeah. If it's no bother."

When Y/n walked into the hallway to grab a towel she felt someone behind her. She brightened up as she turned, hoping to see Harry but found the other male standing there with her, plucking at his shirt.

"Here," she handed him a white towel, "I'm really sorry about your shirt."

Memo nodded as he dabbed at himself, "Yeah it's just water. My shirt'll be fine. Just a little embarrassed."

Y/n laughed, "Embarrassed? Why?"

"Got my shirt all well and startled everyone. Especially in front of a pretty girl. Little bit of a hit to my ego."

Y/n's brows stitched together, "Oh. Well, don't worry. I really don't care–"

"Would you… Well, we're about to leave and I thought maybe I could give you my number or something?"

There was no way she was going to call Memo or entertain anything more with him. But she decided to play dumb and just go along with it. She'd take his number and then lose it. Not that he wasn't a good-looking guy. And he was probably perfectly nice (he seemed nice). In a different world, one where she was more outgoing and liked to meet new people, maybe she'd actually be interested.

"Uh…"

Suddenly the hallway light flicked on and her TV came on in the living room, volume all the way up. The lamp in the corner flashing on and off and then on again.

Y/n quickly slid past Memo to turn her television off, one hand cupping her ear as she aimed the remote at her TV.

Sil looked spooked as she stepped out of the kitchen and then Memo suddenly rushed in, tripping as he cursed, "What the fuck?"

Everyone stood in shock staring at one another when all the lights in the house went off and Memo gasped, "Shit! What is that?!" The sound of someone running into her coffee table and something slamming into the wall had Y/n rushing to flick her lights back on.

Memo was swinging into the air on his ass next to the wall, "Something just pushed me against the wall!"

Sil put her hand out to help Memo stand up and then looked back at Y/n in worry, "Is this place like… haunted? What was that?"

She shook her head, "I don't know. You guys should probably leave, though. I'll clean up. I'm really sorry about this."

Memo stepped toward Y/n, "You need to come with us. It's not safe. It felt like someone grabbed my shirt and pushed me… slammed me! Whatever it is, is very strong and very angry."

Shaking her head she looked from her cousin to Memo, "No. I'll be fine. I promise."

It took a little convincing for Sil and Memo to accept that Y/n wasn't going to be leaving with them with Sil pouting and giving her a long hug outside, "Are you sure? I'm going to call you when we get back. I'm really worried about what just happened in there."

"I'll be fine. Okay? You don't need to worry about anything."

When they were down the street Y/n let out a breath and closed her eyes. She knew exactly what had happened in there.

It was Harry. Her gentle, easily spooked ghost, who had somehow flipped a switch and scared the shit out of Memo and her cousin.

When she stepped inside she straightened out her coffee table and looked around the living room, "Harry? Please come out and talk to me. I need to see you, okay? I'm not mad about what you just did but I think we need to talk about it. About why you did that."

She was startled when she turned and there he was. She had expected to need to plead with him for a little longer.

"I'm sorry."

Looking up at him Y/n shook her head, "Why did you do that? Was it because you didn't like him? Memo?"

He nodded, "I didn't like how he was looking at you when you'd turn away. Like you were a piece of meat or something. He was flirting with you."

She smiled, "You didn't like him flirting with me?"

"It's just that… I don't know," Harry turned and ran his fingers into his hair, "I'm stuck. I don't get to have anything good but people like… Memo," he spat the name like it was bitter in his mouth, "Get to enjoy whatever they want." He turned to look at her again, "He could have you if he wanted. It's so easy for him."

"Well, you're wrong. He can't have me if I'm not interested, which I'm not. Not my type."

"He's not?"

She shook her head, "No."

Harry groaned and looked down at the floor, "Doesn't matter anyway, does it? No matter how I feel about anything, about you… I don't get to have you. I don't get to fall in love and live happily ever after. I've made it so that I'll suffer in sadness forever. This is what I deserve for what I did to myself. Might as well watch you fall in love with another man while I'm at it."

Stepping toward him, she slowly reached her hand out toward his, "Hey, look at me."

She swore it was like looking at a real man. His eyes were so green and so sad as he placed his gaze on hers. "Is that what you want? That we could be –together?"

"Doesn't matter what I want."

She took his hand in hers, "Yes it does. It matters. You matter to me. And to be honest," she shrugged, keeping her eyes on his, "As long as I'm here and you're here, I don't think I need anyone else."

Frown lines carved in between his eyes as he looked down at her hand, "You can't say that. You don't know. I can't give you what you need."

"And what is it you think I need that you can't give me?"

"A real relationship. I couldn't meet your family or… anyone. I couldn't –touch you. Not really. I know this doesn't feel the same," he squeezed at her fingers. "It's not warm. It's not real. And if you wanted to have a family… well obviously I can't give you that either."

"Your hand feels pretty real to me, Harry. It's not quite as warm as if you were flesh and blood but you're firm against my skin. I feel you. And that kiss… I can't stop thinking about how nice it was. I liked that. I like how you did it."

"Really?"

A wider grin spread over her face as she watched the edge of his lip quirk upward, "And I've never wanted kids anyway so I don't care about that."

"You don't?"

Shaking her head she smiled, "Never. But we haven't known each other all that long so you wouldn't have known that about me. You also wouldn't have known that I don't really like going out unless I have to. It's why I bought this house. To be away from people. But I do get lonely so when I met you it felt like a special gift."

"When you moved in it did feel different for me too. I wanted to be your friend right off."

"See? We can be friends. We can maybe even be more. I know it's weird probably… I'm not particularly normal, though. But… I was already imagining what it might be like. You and me. It's not perfect but life isn't perfect and maybe we can find some happiness together."

Harry had been jealous of Memo, Y/n had figured that much. He hadn't really hurt him, just scared him. And in a way, she was glad that he was spooked and left relatively quickly so she didn't have to take his number and then sit in that awkward moment where she didn't give him hers back or have to explain later to her cousin why she never called him.

What would she use as her reason? Well, she'd probably simply just say she wasn't interested. But knowing Sil, there would be some pushback – You don't even really know him. He's the sweetest! Give him one date…

The real explanation, which she'd be unable to express, would be that she had already met someone and she wanted to find out what would happen with it. That the ghost that lived in her house with her, the one who'd pushed Memo, was warmer, sweeter, smarter, and more handsome than Memo by leaps and bounds.

Not that Memo wasn't a catch. But Y/n liked Harry much more. Even if he was a ghost. And maybe him being a ghost was better for her in a way. Of course, she was insane. Perhaps if she were a more well-adjusted person with healthy relationships she'd be interested in living men. But most men made her uncomfortable.

"What if –we just see?" Y/n placed her hand on his arm over his sweater as she kept his hand in hers, "Would that be okay with you?"

"I just don't think I can satisfy you how you need."

"So far you've done a great job of making me happy. I haven't felt this way about someone before. It's unconventional, yes, I know. But so what?"

He turned to face her, "So what…" he mimicked her words before he moved his hand to place at her hip. She could feel the weight of it on her side, "I can kiss you again?"

"Yes, Harry. Please do."

He leaned down slowly before she felt his nose bump into hers and then his lips press over her mouth. And it was sweet and emotional. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close as if he realized suddenly he couldn't let her get away.

It was different than kissing someone with skin and warm blood and saliva on their tongue. But she could feel it. Feel him pressed into her, his body his mouth, his hands on her back. She could feel his neck on her palm and it might have just been better than any other kiss ever. Because it was Harry she was kissing.

She felt him open his mouth and close his lips around her bottom lip, felt him poke his tongue against hers… so different but still it was real and so nice. He was conscious and he was kissing her and holding her.

Y/n pushed her hand up his neck and let her fingers card through his hair, whispy silk between her fingers. Every bit of him had mass even if it didn't feel quite the same, it was so close and that only excited her, made her insides light up and liquify.

She could tell he really seemed to enjoy it too, small moans fell from his throat as he brought a hand up to her jaw and kissed downward to her neck. Like he knew what he was doing. But he did know, didn't he? He was once a man, living on earth, meeting women and no doubt had at least some experience.

Y/n couldn't imagine that someone who looked like Harry would have trouble in that department. So he knew what he was doing.

And when he moved against her hips she felt a solid lump under his pants poking against her. Even though he said that it could be visible and that he could feel aroused, it still surprised her. Especially that she could feel it. A decent-sized lump. And she wouldn't classify that as just a lump either… more like the bulge of a man who was nicely endowed.

Her body was hot. She needed more. Gripping onto his back she pasted herself against him, letting him curve around her as he kissed her neck and her jaw. He was better than any man she'd met already. Sensual and full of emotion.

When he placed his mouth back against hers she realized that her back was pressed into the wall. She hadn't even realized they'd moved at all. With a moan, she raised her leg and hitched her thigh over his hip. Part of her thought that might deter him or make him stop. Maybe he'd be too shy or he'd tell her they didn't need to do that, but what happened instead was that he went in harder, hips glued to hers as he reached down to grasp her thigh to keep it in place.

And now the swollen bulge was pressed over her dress right where her pelvis was and he rocked against her.

"Oh god… Harry…." her words were mushed into his mouth as he kept kissing her.

"Y/n…"

"Let's go to bed."

Again, she thought perhaps it might be too much for him. That he'd try and slow down or maybe he'd back away… But she gasped when he picked her up and held her under her thighs and brought her to the bedroom. Like he'd just been waiting for permission and the shy and conflicted man from earlier was all but gone.

Her head was placed on her pillow, with his palm under her neck as he smothered her mouth with his. Y/n moved her legs apart for him and he settled against her, using his free hand to clasp over her hip.

It felt so good to be with him that way. It was exciting and soft and it made her insides ache. Reaching down for the button on his trousers he parted from the kiss and looked down at her hands as she pulled his pants open.

"I don't know if… it's gonna be different. I haven't done this before. Like this."

"It's okay. Will it feel good for you?"

He nodded, "Yes. I can still feel like that. Just don't know what'll be like for you."

Y/n bit her lip and pushed herself up, "I'm gonna take off my dress. Okay?"

"Okay. Should I… I don't know what to do."

It was funny that only moments before he was carrying her to the bed but now he was unsure of himself once again. She figured it would take some getting used to, "Can your clothes come off? Is it possible?"

"Yes. Should I take them off?"

Y/n smiled and cupped his cheek, "If you want to. If you want to find out what it'll feel like with me. It's up to you."

He nodded and pulled at his sweater, bringing it up over his head and Y/n reached for his torso, smoothing her hand up to his pecs and shoulders. He was fit and looked strong. Tattoos on his chest and his arms. It wasn't what she expected exactly. She had seen the peek of tattoos on his hand but hadn't imagined he had many more. She'd been wrong.

Lifting herself she slid her dress off and unplucked her bra to get rid of the uncomfortable thing, tossing them to the floor as she watched him bring his pants down. He had on blue boxer shorts. She didn't want to let her mind go there, but she wondered if those were the last clothes he wore as a living person. Most likely.

He looked at her, searching her face and then his gaze dropped over her body. Her breasts, her tummy, her panties. She reached for his hand to place on her breast, "What does it feel like?"

Harry blinked his eyes closed, "It feels real." He reached up with his other hand to cup her opposite side and softly massaged, opening his eyes to watch as his palms smushed and slid over her skin.

Y/n inhaled as she let him group and knead. The gentle fondling was perfect.

Harry adjusted his position, bending his knees as he leaned in and looked at her, mouth nearing her nipple, "Can I?"

Nodding she placed her hand in his hair when she felt his mouth on her tit. She could hardly tell the difference. It wasn't wet and warm but his mouth was on her. He switched sides and focused on her nipple.

"Fuck… Harry that feels good."

Looking up at her he pulled away, "Does it?"

"Yes. You're really good. I like this. How do you feel?"

"I like it too. A lot. I feel…" he shook his head, lips parted, "Like a man. Like I'm alive again."

Y/n reached down for his thigh and ran her hand upward, "Can I touch you too?"

He looked down at his lap, blue boxer shorts tented from his erection as he nodded and shifted to his knees so he could bring them down and off.

And fuck if he just didn't look completely real. Like a live man with a big cock and soft green eyes looking at her for approval.

Y/n got to her knees and dragged her hands down his chest and over the silky bits of hair, "You're very handsome. I've never seen a more attractive man, Harry. Everything about you…"

When her palm found the underside of him there was weight to it. Bulk. She was having a difficult time understanding it all. That he wasn't flesh, nor alive, but that he was conscious and he was solid. The moment her palm dragged upward on his length, fingers curling around his shaft he sputtered a deep moan.

"Feels good?"

He nodded, "Just like when I… from a long time ago."

"When you were still alive? When you had a woman in your bed with you?"

He nodded again, "Yes."

"Good. I want to make you feel good."

He moaned again as she worked her fist over him. He was long and he had girth. A very nice cock for a ghost, she laughed to herself about how her inner dialogue was working itself out.

"I want to make you feel good too," he placed a hand at her hip over her cotton panties and she smiled at him. Of course, he did. Harry seemed like a giver. That much she did know.

Releasing him from her hand, she peeled her panties off and Harry quickly pushed her down to the bed and tucked in between her legs, hands sliding up her inner thighs, "You're so pretty."

Y/n giggled and turned her eyes to her ceiling. No one would ever believe she was doing something like this. Hell, she hardly believed it herself. When she looked back at Harry she pulled his hand to bring up to her center, "You can touch if you want. In fact, you can do whatever you like. I trust you."

His lips parted as he grazed his fingertips through her labia and kept his eyes on her pussy. Soft strokes up and down like he was inspecting until he slid his pointer finger up to her clit and looked into her eyes as he started to circle, "You're getting wet. That feels good?"

A laugh puffed from her lips as she nodded, "It feels so good. You make me wet, Harry."

His brows pinched together as he leaned over her body to kiss her, fingers still gently circling her bud. She reached down to stroke him in her hand, making him moan into her mouth.

He thrust into her hand softly as he pressed a finger inside of her. She inhaled sharply, "Yes…"

"Yeah?" He panted against her mouth, finger tucked inside of her thrusting as she pumped him the best she could with the angle.

And he might have been a ghost but when he added another finger the gushy sound her pussy made couldn't be mistaken. As if something solid was plunging into her. Which made her certain his dick would be the same. Better.

Pushing at his chest he backed away from the kiss as she pulled his shaft, angling his tip at her mons, just above where he was pumping his fingers into her, "You can if you want. I think it'll feel good."

He didn't say anything but when he pulled his fingers out and grasped around his cock, hand over hers he kept his pupils pinned to her eyes as he dragged his tip through her pussylips and down to her opening.

The moment he began to penetrate they both dropped their mouths open. It felt just like it should. Two people connecting with their bodies and their emotions. The friction felt different inside of her but she could feel the weight and the circumference of him slowly sliding into her walls.

As he blew out a harsh breath, she could feel it on her neck. It wasn't humid nor warm, but she felt the draft against her skin as he buried in.

"Can you feel me?"

Y/n reached her hands around his back, "I can feel all of you. Keep going."

He dropped his hips down against hers, pushing himself in and then easing back, dragging through her insides deliciously.

"I can feel how wet it is around me. So warm… Squeezing…"

She panted as she placed her feet flat on the mattress and rolled up against him, her clit pressing into his pelvis as he rocked into her so gently. So easy and so soft, but the swollen length inside of her was anything but soft. She felt every inch of it as he worked in and pulled back.

"It's so hard. Harry, you feel so good," she mewled before he pushed his lips against hers again.

Her old bed creaked in time with his languid pace. He held her tight, one hand at the back of her head and the other wrapped under her back as he fucked himself into her warm, gummy channel.

As fantastic as Y/n felt she imagined for him it was even better. He could feel her temperature and the moisture of her arousal, he could feel the tightness of her around him as he drove into her and surely he could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

She was in heaven. Y/n would swear off men forever if she could have this with Harry. They could have soft, lazy days together in silence, go mushroom hunting together in the afternoons, and have deep conversations about the world and biology and books they'd read… then go to bed together every night with full hearts. She'd be satisfied with him. It didn't matter what people thought of her. The strange woman who moved into the woods to live alone, never married or had kids, never had an interest in dating…

He grunted as he began to plunge in harder. He was feeling it. Just like any man would. His release, whatever that might look like for a ghost, was coming. She lifted her hips against his thrusts as he wound his lips around her slowly. The faster he moved his hips and worked into her the louder her mattress squeaked under her.

She gasped as he ground into her, swiveling his hips and groaning into her mouth, "Right there…" She panted.

If he kept his pelvis against her clit she'd come, "Don't stop. Just like that…"

So he rocked against her like she wanted, pelvis pasted to her clit as he tucked in deeper and filled her insides with his sturdy mass. She felt his hand move down, fingers wrapping around the back of her neck as she ran her tongue against his.

With their bodies glued together, Harry's big cock stuffing her and his hips down against hers she began to shake. He flexed his glutes and thighs as he continued sliding into her, raking against her walls, patting against her softly when her metal headboard started to hit her wall with every other plunge.

Harry stopped abruptly but Y/n draped a leg over his low back and pressed her hands into his bum, "Keep going. I'm gonna come…"

Shifting against her he prodded into her guts that time, making her hiss as he dragged his lips down to her neck.

"Oh fuck…" she moaned into the dark room as he plowed into her tummy, sucking on her delicate skin between panted breaths.

She loved how it felt to have him curled around her like that, arm holding her close, hips pressed against hers as his thighs pushed against the underside of her own. She loved how he did it so tenderly but so needy.

Because it'd been a long long time since he'd had sex. The poor guy had been moping in the shadows for so long, he deserved a warm pussy to enjoy. He deserved her.

When she started to come her lips parted and she sobbed his name. She also hadn't had sex in a long time. Not with another person anyway. And Harry was just as much a man (more so even) than what she'd had in the past. He grunted against her neck as she arched into him, her pussy clenching and sucking him in as she released around him.

He whimpered and then moaned loudly and suddenly he pulled his arm from under her back and took both hands to hold her hips down as he pounded into her, the frame of her bed slapping into the wall and creaking loudly as he came. His big cock was pushing into her depth, bulbous head dragging into her guts as he orgasmed. He gasped and panted as he rutted in and then stilled his hips as he bottomed out inside of her.

She rather enjoyed the way he manhandled her at the end. Holding her down so he could fuck into her to finish himself off like that. The gruff noises he was making and the pinch of pain she felt from having something so hard and so big drill into her tummy was actually quite pleasant. Satisfying.

And just as if he were alive and needed oxygen in his lungs, his chest was heaving as he looked down at he, letting go of her hips, pulling her up into his arms, and dragging her into his lap.

"Are you okay?" He asked her as he kissed her cheek and placed his palm on the back of her head.

She wrapped her arms around his torso, "I'm so good. That was so good, Harry."

He looked at her, holding her face in his hands, "It was?"

Nodding she ran her fingers up his back, "The best."

✨🍂',•* 🍄 *•,'🍂✨

Y/n would have loved to tell everyone about her boyfriend. About how happy she was and how amazingly well they got along. But she couldn't. Because if she did some of the more nosy ones (her mom for example) would want to meet him. Would want to invite him over for a family dinner so everyone could meet him.

And when she'd have to tell her mom that he wouldn't be joining them for dinner she'd be convinced that he was a lowlife. A deadbeat. Which was the furthest thing from the truth.

No. He's not a flake. He's a ghost.

So, she just told everyone she was happiest single. That men were garbage anyway (that was true).

She was happy. And so was Harry.

"I feel like this is what I was supposed to do. Meet you in the afterlife. Well, my afterlife. So our timelines would fit together."

Y/n grinned and dropped a mushroom into her basket, "I think so too. We were meant to meet, weren't we?"

Harry smiled and looked up at the sun poking through the canopy of the trees above, "It's all I ever wanted."

Y/n took his hand and looked up at the trees with him. Most of them had lost their leaves as the weather was turning chillier. This was the time of year, Harry said, that his favorite mushrooms were out. Chicken of the woods and oyster. She was going to saute them with butter and eat with the pot of lentil soup she had started before they went out to forage.

Squeezing his hand and leaning into his arm she turned her gaze from the trees to her handsome ghost, "It's all I ever wanted too."

✨🍂',•* 🍄 *•,'🍂✨✨🍂',•* 🍄 *•,'🍂✨

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rosyrosethings · 9 months ago

Text

Please give input. I do better when I know someone wants something

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #watermelon sugar #harrys house #fanfic

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rosyrosethings · 9 months ago

Text

Updated my master list. Still working on it.

Masterlist

Hii I am Erin. I write Harry Styles fan fiction for Black women. But I invite for everyone to read. Please enjoy! And please give feedback

Series

King Harry and The Nanny part 1, part 2

Harry, the King, is married to Queen Charlotte, and they have two children, Anastasia and James. Y/N, the new nanny, accompanies the royal family on a weekend trip to a wedding. However, a powerful snowstorm leaves Harry, the children, and Y/N snowed in together for the weekend, setting the stage for a significant shift in Harry and Y/N's relationship.

Gently, Harry lifted her chin with his hand, encouraging her to look at him directly. "When it's just us, please, call me Harry. Formalities seem unnecessary, don't you agree?" His voice was soft, almost inviting.

Y/n managed to steady her nerves, though the gesture sent a ripple of anticipation through her. "Of course, Your Maj...," she began, only to be met with a raised eyebrow from Harry, his hand still gently cradling her chin. "Harry," she corrected herself, her heart skipping at the informal address.

Prince Harry part 1, part 2.

In the quiet town of Albridge, Y/N's bakery, "Daisy's Confections," becomes the talk of the town, even catching the attention of Prince Harry. Disguised as "Henry," Harry sneaks out of the palace to visit Y/N’s shop and quickly becomes captivated by her charm and passion for baking. As their friendship deepens, romance begins to blossom. However, Harry's royal duties and hidden identity threaten to complicate their growing relationship, leaving them both wondering if love can overcome the obstacles of status and secrecy.

Love in Fine Print (Ceo Harry and Assistant)

Y/N, Harry Styles' assistant, arrives at work after a rough night, revealing she has nowhere to go. Concerned, Harry steps in, offering her a place to stay at his home. As they live together, the lines between their professional and personal lives blur. Their connection deepens, filled with unspoken tension, stolen glances, and playful moments, but secrets linger between them.

Y/n returns after missing, Part 1, Part 2,

Four years after the mysterious disappearance of flight N-47, Y/N Rose returns to a world that has moved on without her. Once a rising fashion designer, she had left behind dreams, a flourishing relationship with Harry Styles, and close friendships, only to return to a reality where everything has changed. Harry, now a solo artist and in a relationship with her best friend Kendall, had mourned Y/N’s loss deeply, never fully letting go of her memory. Their reunion is emotional and filled with unanswered questions, but the passage of time, unspoken feelings, and new complications create an uncertain path forward for all three. As Y/N navigates the shock of her return, she faces the painful realization that the life she once knew may no longer exist.

Harry proposes to girlfriend who is not Y/n Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Y/N and Harry have been best friends for years, with an unbreakable bond even after Harry started dating Kendall. Though secretly in love with him, Y/N never confessed, feeling like she wasn’t good enough. When Harry tells her he plans to propose to Kendall, Y/N is devastated but hides her heartbreak. As emotions run high, a night of comfort and vulnerability leads to unexpected consequences, leaving Y/N torn between her feelings for Harry and the reality of his relationship with Kendall.

One shots

Mafia Harry

Mafia Harry Neglects Y/n

Harry and his daughter:

Harry's Daughter trick him

His daughter is too busy

Their daughter wont take a picture

Misc

Y/n cries when Harry tells her he loves her.

Harry does not love Y/n. Part 2

Harry sees Y/n after years

Harry and Y/n IG post , Part 2, Part 3

Road trip

Harry and Y/n are friends

#fanfic #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x yn #Harry #harrys house #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot

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rosyrosethings · 9 months ago

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King Harry and The Nanny

Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2

Y/N crouched down, her fingers gently untangling the stems of the marigolds that the youngest had eagerly tried to braid together. The children's laughter mingled with the chirping of birds, a harmonious soundtrack to a morning spent under the London sun. The scent of freshly cut grass filled the air, signifying the start of another day in the palace gardens.

"Seems you have quite the green thumb," a familiar voice teased from behind her.

Straightening up, Y/N turned to find Charles standing at the garden's edge, his uniform crisp and a flirtatious smile playing on his lips. His charm was as undeniable as the sun that warmed the back of her neck, but she knew the boundaries of their light-hearted exchanges.

"I wish. I just act like i know what I'm doing " she quipped, brushing the dirt from her hands onto her apron. "The children who are supposed to be helping me are too busy chasing each other." She said look at james and Anastasia chases each other around their toys.

"Ah, I see," he said as they both stood next to each other watching the children.

"Well they do look as if they're having fun. Maybe we should join." He said glancing at her. She giggled and looked over at him.

"I haven't been chased in years." She said softly, her voice carrying a hint of nostalgia.

"Let's make it interesting," he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye. "I chase you, I catch you. You have to go on a date with me."

A playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she considered his offer. "And what do I get if you can't catch me?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a spark of determination in his gaze. "I will do anything you want."

Her heart fluttered at his words and she couldn't resist the pull of his playful gaze. He took her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, sending shivers down her spine.

For a moment, they both just stood there, locked in each other's gaze. Y/n couldn't deny that he was cute, but he just wasn't her Harry.

James, with his wild mop of curls bouncing as he skipped across the sprawling green lawn, suddenly halted in his tracks and narrowed his eyes up at Charles. The imposing guard's presence near Y/N caught James' attention immediately.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed, quickly making his way over to her and standing protectively between her and Charles. His hands firmly planted on his hips, he puffed out his chest in a display of boyish bravado. "I don't like it when other men talk to you."

A burst of laughter escaped from Y/N's lips as she knelt down to meet James' gaze. Her hand reached out to fix his messy hair.

"Is that so?" she teased playfully. "Your dad talks to me all the time."

"Because Daddy is different, He is the King" James retorted, explaining ot to Y/n like she's the 6 year old. still feigning seriousness as he crossed his arms and shot a defiant look up at Charles. "But this silly old guard? He has no right to talk to you." His words carried a tinge of possessiveness that made Y/N's heart melt with his cuteness.

Charles couldn't hold back a hearty laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he glanced down at James. "Silly old guards, huh? Well, young master James, I'll have you know that I am one of the finest in His Majesty's service."

"But yet you have a crush on MY Nanny," James pointedly remarked, causing Y/N to gasp at his bluntness.

"James, that was not nice," Y/N gently chided him.

"But it seems I'm not the only one who has a little crush on her," Charles quipped with a playful smile, causing James' cheeks to flush with embarrassment. "No I don't," he mumbled as he turned away from Charles, unable to meet his gaze. Y/N couldn't help but giggle at the sudden change in James' demeanor.

"But you're right, my young sire. I must get back to work," Charles said with a bow before turning and walking away. As he left, he looked back at Y/N one final time.

"I hope you'll think about my offer, Miss Y/N," he said in a swift yet sincere manner before disappearing from sight. Once he was gone, Y/N turned her attention back to James.

"Jamenson Harold Richard Styles, that wasn't very nice of you. He is your guard," she gently scolded him, looking down at him with a hint of disappointment.

"I know, but..." James trailed off, his emerald green eyes darting away in guilt. Y/N placed her hands on his shoulders and gently turned him to face her.

"Look at me, James," she said softly yet firmly. His gaze met hers, and she could see the struggle within him. Her heart melted once again at the sight of his big innocent green eyes. Maybe she could forget about it and just let him play. But she had to be tough.

"You have to be kind and respectful to all people, especially those who serve and protect us. Remember, you are a prince, a little King Harry."

A small smile appeared on James' face at the mention of his dad's name. "It's important to treat others with kindness and respect," she continued, her voice filled with love and warmth. "Do you understand me?"

He nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of his actions and words. "Besides," Y/N added with a gentle smile as she pulled him into a tight hug, "you are my favorite little guy in the whole world. No one will ever ruin that, so don't worry."

James hugged her back tightly, his arms wrapping around her neck as they stood in the warm embrace for a moment longer before finally pulling apart.

From his office window, Harry's gaze was fixed on the garden below. His heart raced as he watched Charles standing too close to Y/N, their conversation too far to hear but the body language unmistakable. Harry’s chest tightened when he saw Charles reach for Y/N’s hand, lifting it to his lips for a soft kiss. His jaw clenched, a flash of possessiveness surging through him. How dare this man touch what was his? Even if Y/N wasn’t officially his, in Harry’s mind, she was. She had been for a long time.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening behind him. The Queen, Charlotte, entered, her porcelain skin glowing with a light blush, blue eyes sparkling as she stepped closer to him. Her long blonde hair was pinned up with a pearled clip, elegant as always.

"Harry, is everything okay?" she asked softly, her voice breaking his trance.

Harry quickly turned around, startled by her presence. "I'm fine," he replied curtly, moving away from the window and taking a seat at his desk. The irritation on his face was hard to hide, but he masked it as best as he could.

Charlotte, however, had noticed. She had been observing Harry closely these past few weeks. His moods had shifted, his focus seemed elsewhere, and he was happier—just not with her. His phone had become more important than usual, and her suspicions had started to grow.

"I've just... missed you," she admitted, stepping closer. Her hand reached out, gently touching his face. Harry didn't move, the gesture catching him off guard. Charlotte had never been one for affection. She leaned in to kiss him, but he turned his head, causing her lips to brush against his cheek instead. He grabbed her hand, confusion knitting his brow.

"Charlotte, what are you doing?" he asked, his tone unsure.

She didn’t answer, instead lowering her lips to his neck, her hands lingering on his chest. "I want to please you," she whispered, continuing to kiss him.

Harry pulled away abruptly, grabbing her wrists and pushing her back. The thought of being with anyone other than Y/N disgusted him. He couldn't even imagine it, not anymore.

"Charlotte, I'm not in the mood," he said firmly, looking directly into her eyes. "I honestly don’t know what’s gotten into you."

Charlotte blinked in confusion, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. "What’s gotten into me? I want to have sex with my husband. What is wrong with that?" she snapped, her voice tinged with irritation.

Harry's eyes narrowed. "What’s wrong?" he shot back, incredulous. "For the past two years, every time I tried to touch you, you rejected me. Now, suddenly, you want to? It’s a bit shocking." His words hung heavy between them, the room thick with tension.

Charlotte’s face flushed with anger. "You act like you’re the only one who’s been hurt here, Harry. Do you think I haven’t noticed how distant you’ve become? How you’re always somewhere else, even when you’re right in front of me? Do you even want to be with me anymore?"

Harry leaned back, running a hand through his hair, exasperation clear in his voice. "You’re making this about me? I’ve tried for *years*, Charlotte. I tried to be close to you, to fix whatever was broken between us. But every time I did, you pushed me away. And now, suddenly, you think one night is going to fix everything?"

She crossed her arms, her voice rising in frustration. "Because I thought we could try again! I thought maybe if we—" She stopped, taking a breath, then looked at him with a mixture of sadness and anger. "But you’ve already checked out, haven’t you?"

Harry's jaw tightened, his emotions swirling in frustration and guilt. "This isn’t just about trying again, Charlotte. You can’t pretend like things haven’t been broken for a long time. You never let me in, not really. And now, after all this time, you want me to believe that one night will fix everything?"

Charlotte’s eyes flashed with hurt, her voice hardening. "And whose fault is it that we’re like this, Harry? Maybe if you weren’t so busy texting other women or staring out the window, we’d be able to fix something!"

Harry froze, his gaze sharpening. "Texting other women? What are you talking about?"

"You think I don’t see it?" she spat, her voice shaking now with a mix of hurt and jealousy. "The way you light up when you get a message, how you go off into another room to talk on the phone. You’ve been happier, Harry, and I know it’s not because of me. So who is it? Who’s been making you smile?"

Harry stood, frustration and anger bubbling up. "You’re being paranoid, Charlotte. There’s no one else." His voice wavered slightly at the end, and he could feel the heat rising in his chest as his own guilt swirled beneath the surface.

Charlotte stepped closer, her voice trembling with emotion. "I know you, Harry. I’m not an idiot. You’re distant, distracted, and it’s not just because of us. So, tell me—who is it?"

Harry stood, his patience wearing thin. "I’m not doing this, Charlotte. I’m not in the mood for this pointless argument," he snapped, his voice low but firm. "I said what I said. Now either accept it or leave."

Her eyes widened in shock, a deep hurt settling in. For a moment, she stared at him, her lips parted in disbelief, searching his face for any sign that he might soften. But his expression remained cold, distant, like a door closing between them.

With a sharp inhale, Charlotte turned on her heel and walked out, the heavy thud of the door slamming behind her reverberating through the room. The silence that followed was suffocating, leaving Harry frozen in place, his heart pounding as the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.

Meanwhile, as the deep red hue of the setting sun painted long, dramatic shadows across the palace grounds, Y/N was busy tidying up the children’s playroom. Anastasia had already drifted off to sleep, while James remained content, engrossed in a game on his iPad. Lost in thought about Charles’ offer and all that it could mean, Y/N was so distracted she didn’t even hear the door quietly open behind her.

“Daddy!” James yelled, running excitedly towards Harry as he entered the room. Harry's face immediately lit up with a smile as he scooped up his little boy.

“How's my little guy doing?” Harry asked, causing James' expression to quickly turn into a pout as he remembered what Y/N had made him do earlier.

“Not good. Y/n made me apologize to the guard,” James pouted, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Y/N. Sighing, Y/N walked closer to them and Harry.

“Yes I did, because you were rude to him,” she said firmly, looking up at James with a stern expression.

“I wasn't rude! He was pursuing you and I thought that was inappropriate,” James argued, closing his eyes and looking away from her. Harry couldn't help but let out a genuine laugh at his son's protectiveness.

“What happened?” Harry asked, curiosity piqued by their conversation.

“Well, Charles was being nice to me and James here came up and interrupted him. He also told me he doesn't like when I talk to other men; basically telling Charles to go away because the only man who can talk to me is himself and his father,” Y/N explained, making direct eye contact with Harry. His smile grew even wider and he couldn't help but feel proud of his son in that moment.

“You did that, James?” Harry questioned with amusement evident in his tone.

“Maybe. He's lucky I'm not king yet, or else I would have had him fired,” James said, turning his head away in a display of annoyance. Harry couldn't help but laugh even more at his son's boldness.

“Good job, James. I should have known I could always depend on you,” Harry praised, tickling his son's belly and causing him to erupt into fits of giggles. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully at the father-son moment and glanced at the clock, realizing it was getting late

“James, you go get ready for bed,” Y/n said gently to the young boy, her soothing voice trying to calm him down. “I will have your dad come and read you a bedtime story since you're sooo upset with me.”

James looked over at her, his little face softening as he took in her kind expression. Still in Harrys arms. He couldn't help but smile at the way his son loved her.

“I am not upset with you anymore,” James said softly, letting go of his earlier anger. “And I want you to come read me a bedtime story.”

Harry's mouth fell open in shock at his son's words. He couldn't believe that James wanted Y/n to read to him instead of him. Feeling a twinge of fake anger, Harry playfully glared at his son.

“So you'd rather have Y/n read to you and not your dad?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

James shook his head in determination. “Can both of you guys come?” he asked hopefully, his bright eyes reflecting the same hope that was evident on his father's face.

Y/n looked up at Harry, seeing that his eyes were saying the same thing as hers - how could they say no to such an adorable request? Despite feeling like it might be inappropriate since she wasn't James' mother, Y/n couldn't resist his plea.

“We can do that,” Harry confirmed, putting James down on the floor. The little boy ran off excitedly to pick out a book for them to read together, leaving Harry and Y/n alone in the room. As soon as he left, Harry closed and locked the door behind him, wanting privacy for their conversation.

“So... Charles,” Harry began, taking a step closer towards Y/n, his gaze fixed intently on her.

She looked up at him, trying to act innocent. “What about him?” she asked coyly, although she knew exactly what he was going to ask.

“What did you say when he asked you out?” Harry finally voiced the question that had been on his mind since Y/n mentioned her encounter with their bodyguard.

“Well,” Y/n started with a teasing smile, enjoying Harry's jealousy. “Before I could even give an answer, my little bodyguard already answered for me.” Harry couldn't help but chuckle at her response, feeling grateful that James had come to her defense.

Harry's eyes darkened as he stepped even closer to Y/n, his imposing figure towering over her petite frame. "And what would your answer have been?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him, feeling the heat radiating from his body. "You know I only have eyes for you, Harry," she whispered, her heart racing.

A possessive growl rumbled in Harry's chest as he cupped her face with his large hands. "Good," he murmured, "because you're mine, Y/n"

Before she could respond, his lips crashed onto hers in a searing kiss. Y/n's heart raced as she melted into his embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer. The world around them faded away as they lost themselves in each other, the warmth of their bodies blending together like waves on the shore.

As their passion grew, Y/n started to unbutton his shirt with trembling fingers, eager to feel his skin against hers. Once unbuttoned she let her hands glide over his chest.

"I need you right now." He said against her lips.

"Then have me." She said back in a breathy voice. Harry pushed her against the wall lifted her up slightly her legs quickly wrapping around his waist. There lips eagerly against each other.

But before they could go any further, a loud banging at the door interrupted them. Both making eye contact , both of them beginning to panic. Harry pulled away from Y/n. Her feet finding the floor again.

"Harry, are you in there?" Charlotte's voice called out from outside the room. Y/n tiptoed over to hide in the closet while Harry immediately helped her inside, his heart still pounding from their close call.

"Yeah, I am," he called back, trying to sound casual. "Sorry, I was just straightening up the room." He couldn't resist kissing Y/n's head one last time before closing the closet door behind her.

Making his way to the door, Harry opened it to reveal Charlotte looking around the room with a suspicious eye. She took in Harry's disheveled appearance and raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting to find someone else in the room.

"I must have accidentally locked it," Harry said nonchalantly, playing off her questioning with a playful tone. "These old doors have a mind of their own sometimes." Charlotte narrowed her eyes but ultimately decided to let it go for now.

"Why do you look like that?" She asked, still suspicious

"I came in here to cool down after our argument. Wrestled with James for a bit before sending him off to bed." He said, his lies were sounding of the truth. Y/n even started to believe him.

"Oh okay," she said, changing the subject. "It's getting late and I noticed you weren't in our bedroom or the children's rooms. I wanted to talk to apologize for earlier and tell you about something." Her tone turned serious as she spoke, and Y/n's ears perked up as she listened from inside the closet.

"What is it?" Harry asked, propping his brows up expectantly.

"I want to have another baby." Charlotte's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #watermelon sugar #harrys house #fanfic

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rosyrosethings · 9 months ago

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hi Erin, how are you? When is part 2 of the nanny coming out? Thank you 🤍🤍

I believe I posted part 2. I will post part 3 soon. Probably like in an hour or 2.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #watermelon sugar #harrys house #fanfic #fine line

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rosyrosethings · 9 months ago

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Man Eater/Siren Y/n.

Y/n is a the girl every man desires and Harry can't resist her.

Disclaimer: I feel like a lot of writers make Y/n a little insecure girl and I know everyone has insecurities. But idk about yall but I feel like the I can have any man I want(sometimes) so I really enjoyed writing this. Hope you guys like it.

Warning: smut, cheating, sub harry, dom reader

4.5k words

Harry stood by the drink table, swirling the ice in his glass as he half-listened to Dan go on about his latest project. His mind was elsewhere, drifting back to Jane, who had opted to stay behind, nursing a cold. She'd insisted he go without her, to enjoy Mitch's birthday, to relax.

But relaxing had been impossible the moment he felt it—her presence. His body had sensed Y/N before his eyes had. A wave of heat and energy swept over him, tightening his chest, and without even thinking, he glanced toward the entrance.

There she was.

The woman he thought he had moved on from, the one who could ensnare any man with just a look—Y/N. Her dark skin seemed to shimmer under the dim party lights, her long legs accentuated by a dangerously short skirt. Her hair cascaded effortlessly down her back, swaying as she moved through the room, her smile dazzling as she greeted familiar faces.

"Harry? You okay, mate?" Dan’s voice snapped him out of his trance.

Harry blinked, turning his head sharply. "What?"

Dan chuckled, following Harry's gaze. "Oh, yeah... beautiful, isn't she?" That was the effect she had on men. Sometimes Harry wished he never met her. The power she held over him was unreal. Even Dan calling her beautiful had him feeling a bit possessive

Harry gritted his teeth, feeling his heart race as Y/N hugged and mingled with the guests. Her laugh floated through the air, and Harry swore he could feel it wrapping around him like a spell.

"Excuse me," Harry muttered to Dan before heading for the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and leaned against the sink, gripping the porcelain edges tightly. His reflection stared back at him, his jaw clenched. Get it together, Styles, he thought. Don’t let her lure you in again.

It had been months since they last saw each other, months since they last… messed around. He would text her, no response for hours even days but whenever she texted him. He would respond immediately. If she called for him he would jump.

Jane was everything stable, safe. But Y/N? She was wild, unpredictable. A siren, pulling him deeper whenever she was near.

He took a deep breath, splashing cold water on his face. He couldn't let himself get caught in her orbit again. Not tonight.

When he finally left the bathroom, the air felt charged, his skin tingling with anticipation. He weaved through the crowd, heading straight for Mitch. He needed something—anything—to distract him.

"Mitch, mate, happy birthday!" Harry exclaimed, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

"Thanks, man! Glad you made it," Mitch replied, smiling.

They chatted easily, Harry grateful for the reprieve, until—

“Happy Birthday, Mitchell!" a familiar voice cut through the conversation.

Harry froze.

He turned just in time to see Y/N wrapping her arms around Mitch in a tight hug, her voice sweet as honey. She was the only person who called him Mitchell, a nickname she'd coined ages ago. Mitch didn't seem to mind; in fact, his grin widened as he hugged her back.

"Thanks, Y/N," Mitch said with a chuckle, patting her on the back.

"I got your gift. It's over on the table," she said, pointing behind her. "Didn’t know where else to put it."

Mitch barely had time to respond before someone else called his name from across the room. "Sorry, guys," he said, excusing himself. Sending Harry a sympathetic look before walking away.

And then, it was just Harry and Y/N.

"Look who it is," Y/N said, her voice dripping with playful mischief, her eyes sparkling as she smiled at him.

Harry felt a lump form in his throat, her gaze drawing him in like it always did. She tilted her head slightly, as if daring him to speak.

But he couldn’t move. Not yet. The memories of their last night together—the heat, the tension, the way her touch lingered far longer than it should have—flooded his mind, clouding his judgment.

"Long time, no see," she said, stepping closer, her presence commanding all his attention.

Harry swallowed hard, trying to muster the willpower not to fall under her spell again. But the pull was undeniable. She was electric, like pure fire, and he, once again, was the moth drawn to her irresistible flame.

He forced a smirk, trying to seem casual despite the chaos swirling inside him. "Didn’t think I’d see you tonight. Thought you were off traveling."

She shrugged, her smile lazy and seductive, never wavering. "I was. But Mitch's birthday is special, you know? And besides… I always find my way back."

Her words lingered between them, heavy with a meaning he couldn’t ignore.

"Where’s that little girlfriend of yours?" she asked, her voice soft but pointed, her gaze locking onto his. Every time their eyes met, it was as though her power seeped into him, coiling around his thoughts. He could feel the familiar tug, the way she seemed to unravel him with just a glance.

So he looked away, pretending to scan the room.

"Jane couldn’t make it," Harry said, clearing his throat, the weight of her name like an anchor tethering him to some semblance of control. He hoped it would be enough to ground him.

Y/N’s smile faltered, but only for a fraction of a second, something darker flickering behind her eyes. She stepped closer, leaning in just enough for her voice to lower, teasing him. "Shame. I guess it’s just us, then."

His heart pounded, the sound of it deafening in his ears. He kept his eyes fixed on the crowd, avoiding her like he was running from a storm he couldn’t outrun.

"Uhh… so, how are things?" he asked, his voice dry and brittle. It was the only thing he could think to say, a flimsy attempt to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters.

"Things are okay," she replied softly, her tone suddenly casual, as if the tension between them hadn’t just spiked. "I’ve been around the world, but I think I’m staying put for a while."

There was something about the way she said it that made Harry’s stomach twist. He was about to respond when her voice dropped, the concern in it almost unnerving. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?"

Her question threw him off balance, her concern cutting through the haze in his mind. "Just a bit parched. I’m going to grab a drink," he muttered, stepping to the side, desperate to escape her gravitational pull.

But before he could slip away, her hand wrapped around his arm, firm but gentle. The touch was electric, sending a jolt through his body, forcing him to look at her. He met her eyes, and for a moment, he was lost all over again. Maybe a drink could help him relax.

"Can you bring me something, too?" she asked, her voice soft but commanding, her gaze locking him in place.

His breath hitched, his mind spinning. The look in her eyes was hypnotic, and no matter how much he tried to resist, he couldn’t pull away.

"Yea, I can do that." He said, his nerves getting the best of him. He made his way to Mitch kitchen. Quickly grabbing him some water to help deal with the tension he could feel building. He looked over to see look at her again. Seeing another man already talking to her. His jaw clenched it was no time wasted. It was always like this with Y/n. He could tell that the man was offering her a drink but she denied making eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. He could see her implying that Harry was getting her a drink. Harry grabbed a glass filling his with scotch. Needing something strong to deal with this. Filling Y/n a can of lemonade. She hated the taste of alcohol. Pouring her lemonade in a cup so she gives off the appearance that she is drinking. Which is what she likes. Harry remembers every detail about her.

Harry made his way back to Y/n. Stepping beside the random man.

"Here you are love." He said with a smile handing her the drink. Adding the 'love' almost like he's claiming his territory. He knew he shouldn't be behaving this way. But he hated how attractive she was.

"Thank you Harry." She said with a smile. The guy looked between them. Taking a hint before walking away. Y/n didn't even notice too focused on her newest victim.

Y/N raised the cup to her lips, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she took a sip. Harry stood beside her, his pulse quickening as the man who had been lingering near her quickly took the hint and left. He wasn’t sure if it was the scotch in his hand or the tension that had been simmering all night, but he felt a surge of possessiveness he couldn’t shake.

"You didn’t have to scare him off, you know," she teased, glancing up at him through her lashes, her voice smooth and low.

Harry raised an eyebrow, forcing a nonchalant smirk. "Scare him off? I didn’t say a word."

"You didn’t have to." She leaned in just slightly, her eyes locking onto his, her lips barely brushing the rim of her cup. "It’s like you claimed me in front of him, Harry. Didn’t think you’d still care that much."

His grip tightened around his glass, his mind spinning as her words hung in the air. He took a sip of his drink, letting the burn of the scotch fuel his response. "I don’t care," he lied, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. "Just didn’t want you to get stuck with some guy who’s not worth your time."

She laughed softly, the sound sending a wave of heat through him. "Is that so? And here I thought I could handle myself." Her eyes sparkled with amusement, but there was something more beneath the surface, something that felt like a challenge.

Harry felt the tension building again, the same magnetic pull between them that he had been fighting all night. He knew he should walk away, keep his distance, but there was something about her that always drew him back in.

"Maybe you can," he said, his voice softer now, his gaze flicking down to her lips. "But it doesn’t hurt to have backup, does it?"

Y/N tilted her head, studying him with a look that made his heart race. "You offering to be my backup now?" she asked, her voice dropping lower, teasing. "I remember a time when you’d jump at the chance."

Harry swallowed, trying to steady himself. "Things change."

"Do they?" She stepped closer, her body brushing against his as she whispered, "Because it feels like nothing’s changed at all."

He felt the heat of her body, the scent of her perfume filling the space between them. His breath caught in his throat, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of which involved Jane or any sense of control.

"You really should stop looking at me like that," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

"Like what?" Y/N asked, feigning innocence, but her eyes betrayed her. She knew exactly what she was doing, and Harry hated how good she was at it.

"Like you know exactly what’s going on in my head," he replied, his voice thick with tension. "Because I’m trying really hard not to—"

"Not to what?" she interrupted, stepping even closer until their faces were just inches apart.

"Not to fall for your game again," he admitted, his voice hushed, almost like a confession.

Y/N smiled, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of his collar. "Who says it's a game?" she whispered, her lips dangerously close to his ear. "Maybe I just missed you."

The words sent a shiver through him, and he couldn’t stop the way his body reacted. His hand instinctively reached out, brushing against her waist, pulling her closer. He was losing the fight, and he knew it.

"I don’t believe you," Harry said, his voice low, but even as the words left his mouth, they felt weak.

She laughed softly, a sound that felt like it wrapped around him, teasing him, pulling him in deeper. "Then don’t," she whispered, her lips brushing against his jaw. "But you’ll stay anyway. You always do."

Harry closed his eyes, his mind screaming at him to stop, to pull away, but he couldn’t. The way her body fit against his, the way her breath felt warm against his skin—it was all too much.

"You’re impossible," he muttered, his voice strained, but his hands were already on her, pulling her closer.

"You love it," she teased, her eyes flicking up to meet his, a challenge dancing in their depths.

For a moment, they stood there, the tension between them crackling like electricity, neither of them willing to break the spell. It was dangerous, playing with fire like this, but Harry couldn’t resist her. He never could.

"I should walk away," he said, though his hands remained firmly on her hips.

"Then why don’t you?" Y/N whispered, her voice sultry and daring as she leaned in, her lips barely brushing his.

Harry's breath hitched, the fire between them burning hotter by the second. He knew he should walk away, but the pull was too strong. "Because you won’t let me."

Y/N smiled, her fingers tangling in his hair as she closed the distance between them, her lips grazing his in a soft, tantalizing kiss. "Exactly," she whispered against his lips, and before he could think, he was kissing her back, their bodies melting into each other like they had been waiting for this moment all night.

The kiss was slow at first, testing the waters, but it quickly deepened, the heat between them rising as all the restraint he had been clinging to shattered. Harry’s hands roamed over her back, pulling her closer as if he couldn’t get enough of her, as if he needed her to breathe.

It was everything he had been trying to resist, and now that he had her in his arms, he didn’t want to stop.

"See?" Y/N murmured against his lips, her voice breathless and full of satisfaction. "I always find my way back."

Harry’s phone buzzed in his pocket, the vibration cutting through the haze of desire that clouded his mind. He broke away from Y/N, breathless, blinking as though he’d just woken from a dream. The air between them still crackled with tension, but the sudden intrusion of reality jolted him back. He glanced down at the screen.

It was Jane.

His heart raced for a different reason now. Guilt settled in his chest as he quickly looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed. But no one was paying attention. The room hummed with casual conversation, and he realized they had tucked themselves into a corner, mostly hidden from view.

"Hold on" he muttered to Y/N, his voice low, his throat tight. He stepped away from her, feeling the weight of her gaze on his back as he moved toward the hallway just outside the bathroom.

He answered the call, forcing his voice to sound steady. "Hey, Jane."

"Hey, baby," Jane’s voice was soft, concerned. "Are you okay? I was just checking in. It’s getting late."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, his pulse still racing. He leaned against the wall, trying to gather himself. "Yeah, I’m fine," he replied, his voice calm despite the chaos swirling in his mind. "I should be home soon."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Harry could feel Y/N’s presence even before he saw her. She had followed him into the hallway, her steps slow and deliberate. His back stiffened, but he didn’t turn around. Not yet. He could hear Jane asking something, but his mind was already distracted.

Y/N didn’t wait for an invitation. She stepped closer, her breath warm against his neck, her fingers grazing the back of his shirt. Harry’s entire body tensed, but before he could react, her lips found his skin, pressing soft, teasing kisses along the side of his neck.

Harry’s grip tightened around the phone, his voice nearly cracking as he tried to focus. "Yeah… I’m still at Mitch’s. Just... just saying goodbye." His words were hurried, clipped, but he tried to keep them even, praying that Jane wouldn’t notice the strain in his voice.

Y/N smiled against his neck, her lips trailing lower, dangerously close to his collarbone. She wasn’t holding back now, her kisses deliberate and slow, her hand sliding around his waist, pulling him back into her orbit. It was intoxicating—the way she knew exactly how to play him, how to unravel him even in the middle of a phone call.

"Are you sure everything’s okay?" Jane asked, her voice tinged with worry. "You sound… off."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, his breath catching in his throat as Y/N’s teeth grazed his skin, sending a jolt through him. "I’m fine," he forced out, his voice shaky. "Just… just tired. I’ll be home soon, I promise."

Y/N’s soft chuckle was barely audible, but he could feel the satisfaction radiating off her. She was pushing him, testing how far she could go. Her hand slid up his chest, and Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound.

"Okay," Jane said, clearly still concerned. "I love you, Harry. Drive safe, okay?"

He swallowed hard, guilt crashing over him in waves. "I love you too," he muttered, his voice almost breaking as Y/N’s lips continued to work their way along his neck.

As soon as he hung up, he let out a shaky breath, his head spinning from the intensity of it all. Y/N pulled back slightly, her smirk visible in the dim light of the hallway.

"You’re playing a dangerous game," he whispered as he turned to face her. his voice rough, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "You love it," she teased, her voice soft and seductive as she leaned in again, her lips just inches from his ear. "Besides, you didn’t stop me."

Harry’s breath hitched, his body still trembling from the closeness of her. She was right—he hadn’t stopped her. He could’ve, but he didn’t. Instead, he had let her push him further and further, crossing lines he knew he shouldn’t.

"I should go," Harry said, though the words barely held any weight. His body was still on fire from her touch, and despite everything, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Instead, he did the opposite. His hands slid down to her waist, gripping her tightly, pulling her closer to him, their bodies pressing together as if he needed the contact to breathe.

Y/N tilted her head, her smirk never fading, her eyes gleaming with victory. "You don’t really want that," she whispered, her hands finding their way around his neck, fingers gently brushing the nape. She pulled his face closer, their lips inches apart, her breath warm against his skin.

Her words hung in the air, thick with temptation. Harry felt like he was standing on the edge of something dangerous, teetering between falling back into the same patterns or somehow finding the strength to walk away. His mind screamed at him to stop, to go home to Jane, to salvage what was left of his control.

But Y/N’s pull was too strong. She was too close, too intoxicating.

He looked down at her, his breath shallow, the last threads of his resolve unraveling. He could see the amusement in her eyes, the way she knew exactly what she was doing to him, how she always had the upper hand.

"I hate you," he muttered, though the words held no conviction. His hands tightened around her waist, pulling her even closer until there was no space left between them. His lips hovered near hers, his body betraying everything he was trying to fight.

Y/N laughed softly, her lips grazing his ear, sending another shiver down his spine. "Mmhmm," she hummed back, her voice thick with satisfaction. She knew she had him.

And with that, Harry gave in. He kissed her again, harder this time, his lips crashing against hers as if he couldn’t get enough. There was no hesitation, no holding back, just raw, unfiltered desire. His hands gripped her waist even tighter, pulling her flush against him as they melted into the kiss, the world outside disappearing.

Harry pulled away, looking down at her. He reached behind her opening the door to the bathroom.

"Inside. Now." He said, his voice authoritative. She grabbed him by his collar pulling him in with her. Harry closed the door behind him. Kissing her immediately as she leaned against the sink. The kiss intensified behind closed doors. Harry has missed her mouth so much. She started to unbutton the shirt. Once unbuttoned her hands grazed all over her chest. Harrys lips made it way down her neck. Kissing her neck. All there movements were hungry and desperate. Her top was scoop neck no bra in sight her nipples hard harry pulled down the top revealing her small breast.his hands started pinching her nipples. Getting a small gasp from Y/n. He loved the sound of satisfaction from her. Whenever she gave him the slightest moans. It was more than enough for him.

Her hand slid his chest to the bulge in his trousers. "Ohh you're so hard already. Must have missed me?" She said with a smirk she worked the button of his pants undoing and quickly unzipping the pants before letting them fall to his feet. Once her hand grazed his dick through his briefs he felt like he was going bust right then and there. He quickly picked her up. By her ass putting her on the counter of sink. His lips found hers kissing her hungry as he grinding his bulge against her as he he kissed her. Their tongues exploring each other excessively. Her pleated skirt flipped up against his her. He let out moans. Enjoying every second of her. Grinding against the west spot between his legs. Feeling like a teenage boy who finally was able to touch a woman. He was so eager

"Take my panties off," she panted against his lips. He complied, stepping back and pulling the red lace down her legs over her red heels. leaving her skirt in place. As she took them from him, she held the soaked fabric up to his face; he buried his nose in them, inhaling deeply and savoring the scent of her arousal.

"You missed havent you?" She asked seductively , He nodded. His nose snuffed in the panties. He did miss it. Her scent was his favorite.

"Take them off." She said her hand gesturing to his gray briefs. He nodded pulling his briefs down to his ankles with his pants. He stepped closer to her. His dick grazing against her pussy. A small hiss released from his mouth. She grabbed his dick. Placing right at her entrance before he could push himself in.

"Do you want to fuck me?" She purred as his hardened tip grazed against her entrance. He nodded fervently, unable to form words with the overwhelming need coursing through him. She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Use your words, tired of the nods," she scolded, a hint of arousal lacing her stern tone.

"Yes, please," he pleaded desperately, earning a satisfied smirk from her.

"That's it, my good boy," she cooed, "come on baby."

With a soft sigh and an alluring smirk, she guided him inside her. Harry's eyes rolled back in bliss. He was lost in the ecstasy of Y/n's pleasure, craving nothing but the sweet release that only she could give him.

"My baby, did you miss my warm, wet pussy?" she purred, her hand caressing the back of his neck.

"Mmmhmm," he moaned in response. He grip tightened on his neck,

"Say it with your words," she demanded firmly.

"Yes, I missed it so much," he gasped, closing his eyes in pleasure. He craved this submission to her. Jane was a good partner, but Y/n ignited a fiery passion within him that he could not resist.

"Can your little girlfriend give you the same pleasure that I can?" she taunted with a knowing smirk. He didn't answer, instead thrusting faster and harder into her awaiting body.

"Answer me," she demanded, her grip tightening around his neck as she pinched his nipple with her other hand. The pain shot through him, but it only added to the pleasure.

He mumbled incoherently, desperately trying to answer her question. "She can't," he repeated, his words becoming more and more slurred as he lost himself in the moment. But Y/n just smiled, moving both of her hands to the back of his neck and pulling his forehead towards hers.

"You're such a good boy," she purred, looking deeply into his eyes as their bodies moved together in rhythm. The friction between them was electric, driving them both closer and closer to the edge. Harry could feel himself getting close, his release building within him.

"Are you gonna cum, baby?" Y/n whispered seductively, knowing exactly what effect her words would have on him.

"Yes, please," he groaned, still thrusting deeply inside her.

"Can I cum inside you?" he asked eagerly, desperation evident in his voice.

"Hmm, I don't know," Y/n teased, biting her lip playfully as she continued to move with him. She wanted to draw out this moment, make him beg for release.

"Y/n, please," he begged, his control slipping away from him.

"Tell me who your dick belongs to," she commanded with a sly smirk on her lips. And with that final push, Harry couldn't hold back any longer. He surrendered completely to her, letting out a guttural moan as he finally reached his peak.

The sound of their grunts and heavy breaths filled the room as they moved in perfect rhythm. "Fuckk! It's yours! Only yours!" he said, struggling to maintain a steady pace with his thrusts.

She smiled and whispered, "You can cum." With her lips still connected to his, she felt Harry release inside her, feeling his body shudder in defeat. He collapsed onto her, breathing heavily as he rested his head on her shoulder.

"You're always so good for me, Harry," she said lovingly, running her hand through his hair and placing a soft kiss on his ear. He didn't say anything in response, but the way he held onto her told her all she needed to know.

"Harry, you have to get back to Jane." She said, his dick still resting inside her. Harry's reality sinks back in. What he did. He pulled himself out of her quickly pulling up his pants. She could see the flustered look on his face.

”Harry.” she said placing her red lacet panties in his hand.

"Keep these for the next time I feel like playing with you," she whispered, a sly smile tugging at her lips as she handed him her panties. She casually fixed her hair and applied a fresh coat of lip gloss, her movements slow and deliberate. With one last teasing glance over her shoulder, she left the restroom, now panties-less, leaving Harry standing there, still burning with desire, his mind racing as he watched her disappear.

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