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harstyle · 1 year ago

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the styles’ nanny

Summary: Y/N is a twenty-three year old uni student and Harry is a thirty-six year old single dad. Y/N is a part-time nanny and Harry is her employer. Y/N thinks Harry is hot, and Harry… well, he’s a bit confused.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!yn + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 7.3k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking and lashing out during an argument, no happy ending yet

A/N: I don’t know why I keep writing characters that start out insecure but I swear it’ll get better later!! Let me know if you want to read more, I’m thinking maybe three parts? Also, the fact that y/n is plus-size doesn’t really become a big deal in the story, but that was how I originally had her in mind so I’m leaving it that way. Hope you enjoy!

Y/N was twenty three. She was twenty three, and she used to love being twenty three. She used to love going out to party, the feeling of alcohol burning down her throat, the rush of palpable excitement when having sex with people she’d never met before. She used to love that. But she didn’t anymore.

And the reason for that? One Harry Styles.

It was ridiculous, of course; Harry had other companions he could turn to before ever settling on her— oh and not to mention, he was her boss. Yet, it felt daring, like that time she’d fallen in love with her biology teacher or looked differently at her camp instructor in high school. Authority figures did something to her brain, and Harry was no different.

But of course there was a lot at stake and she would never actually approach the idea; it was a fantasy at most. And she thought… as long as she didn’t act on her brain’s poisoning, it would be fine.

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

“Oh,” Y/N was snapped back following a short distraction, the butter knife in her hand now seeming more dangerous than when she’d held it seconds before. “Sorry, Harry, what was that?”

She swore she could see an amused smile tugging at his lips for a brief second. She’d always wondered what he thought of her.

“Are you free next Thursday? I have this meeting until late and I doubt I’ll be home for dinner—I was thinking you could maybe put Jamie to bed? You can stay the night if it’s too late to catch a train, or just take the other car?”

Y/N’s work day at the Styles’ house ended at five pm most days in time for Harry to get home, but she did adore Jamie, so staying longer wasn’t remotely an issue.

“That’s okay, I can just stay the night like I did last time, if that’s alright?”

Harry had insisted when she’d begun working for him that she have a room in the house where she could take naps to rest or stay the night all together when it got too tiring to catch the train home, and the notion of it had pulled at her heartstrings. He was very considerate and that was rare in bosses.

Harry shook his head, waving her off with ease, “course it’s okay.”

“Great. I should get home, I have an important test coming up tomorrow. Am I good to go?”

He glanced at the clock, noticing how late it had gotten (he’d offered to cook dinner and Y/N had never been one to reject hot men’s company) and cursed quietly to himself. “I’ll drive you.”

“Oh no Harry, really, it’s okay!”

“It’s almost eight and I feel uneasy whenever I send you away in the dark. Sides, I’m sure Jamie will love a late road trip to your flat,” he reassured with a smile, standing up as if to restrict her getting a choice and starting to load the plates into the dish washer. “Grab your coat and I’ll wait by the door. I’ll get Jamie.”

Y/N did love the way he asserted his wishes to her, kind but dominant in his decisions. He never let her deter him and she, for one, didn’t mind it at all.

“Okay, thank you.”

“No problem, love.”

—

“Can I please just get one scoop? Please?”

“I’m sorry, buddy, we just don’t have any ice cream! I would let you have it if we did, but we don’t. Is there any other snack you’re interested in?”

Jamie was being fussy today and Y/N couldn’t figure out why. He’d been happy when she’d picked him up from school, raving on about his art teacher’s praise on a drawing he’d done with the widest grin resting lazily on his small lips. It had been at around three that he’d started whining at her, not wanting to eat even though he’d requested the grilled cheese and flicking through about twenty channels until he’d finally settled on not watching anything at all. Y/N had figured he was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep either, so she was left thoroughly baffled trying to find ways to tame his mood.

But he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop whining and crying, wouldn’t stop flailing his tiny arms and legs, wouldn’t stop pouting at her. Jamie had the best behaviour Y/N had ever seen on a boy, really, so this outburst worried her. “I just want ice cream!”

“Jamie, we don’t have any ice cream. How about I get you ice cream tomorrow, hm? And today we’ll have something else? Come on, remember how we learned about compromise?”

Y/N was trying, pulling Jamie into her lap to comfort him even though he didn’t care for any of it. His face was red and angry and nothing she said registered in his brain. He cried into her shoulder instead, gripping at her sides in terror. “You’re being mean to me.”

“Hey, that’s not very nice, I’m trying to help you bud.”

“Please, I just want ice cream.”

It was kind of cute how even in his state of devastation, he still managed to be polite to her.

“And I hear you, Jamie, but we don’t have any right now. Will you settle for Oreos? Or chocolate?”

He merely shook his head.

Y/N breathed a grateful sigh when she heard the front door being unlocked, still bouncing Jamie up and down in her lap in hopes that he’d settle down just a bit. She was sure Harry’d heard the crying from the front door because his steps were fast and his expression of concern clear.

“What’s wrong, bub?”

Jamie reacted with a devastating whine, calling for his dad and reaching his arms out begging to be carried. Harry shot Y/N a look of mixed confusion and apology, leveling the boy out from inside of her lap. He mouthed the question she knew he’d been thinking and felt bad when all she could offer in return was a shrug because she knew it wasn’t the ice cream anymore

Harry sung in whispers into his ear in the hopes of calming him, bouncing him around on the spot. He pressed kisses to his forehead, drawing circles on his back. It worked better than when Y/N had done it, Jamie’s sobs having soothed into few hiccups and sniffles.

Y/N couldn’t help but admire how naturally skilled Harry was at being a father. She knew a little bit of the history— his fiancée at the time leaving him for another man months after having given birth to Jamie and having to raise him by himself. He was a busy man and Y/N could tell that he felt bad about being unable to do things like pick up his son from preschool or spend all day playing in the den, but he was still a better father than hers had ever been. He was a great father.

Not long after his crying had died down, Jamie fell asleep in Harry’s arms. Y/N finally breathed a sigh, relieved to catch a break. She loved taking care of Jamie, but jesus had today been hard. Harry carried him up to his bedroom, careful as to not bother him and advised Y/N to wait for him to come back.

Whilst Harry was putting Jamie to bed, she decided to clean up a bit. She went through the array of toys Jamie had taken out and discarded after a short minute of playing with them, and placed them back in the drawers. A smile tugged at her lips when she saw the dino plush toy she’d gifted him when she’d first started working for this family months ago— he still played with it all of the time. In fact, Harry had once sent her a photo of it sitting next to him in the car when they’d gone on vacation in the summer. She recalled tearing up because of it.

“Hi, sorry for taking so long.”

She swore she almost jumped in reaction to his thick voice, gripping the plush tightly against her chest in shock. Harry allowed himself a chuckle, raising his hands just enough to surrender. “Sorry, should’ve knocked.”

Y/N’s only response was a forced chuckle. It still felt weird to be in a room with him by herself, without the presence of a cute five year old to tend to. It was moments like these she felt guilty about fancying him. Most of the time Harry was merely a ghost around the house and whenever he settled back in, she would leave. She rarely ever had time to utter more than a quick ‘see you tomorrow’ and rush off home. It wasn’t like he was there, so her thoughts about him didn’t seem too off putting— now, with the company of awkward silence engulfing them, she couldn’t help but feel disgusted by herself.

“Think he’s getting sick,” he then added.

“Probably,” she agreed. “I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before so it was just a bit worrisome.”

“Yeah, he only really gets like that when he’s sick, so I think it’s safe to say… you’re alright, though?”

“I’m fine, just a bit worried, as I said.”

He smiled like he found that amusing, “he’ll be okay. Are you hungry? I was going to make pasta for dinner.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

Last time she’d had dinner here, Jamie had sat next to her. It hadn’t been just her and him.

“Yeah. Why don’t you put the dino down and we’ll go make it together?”

In an instant, her cheeks heated up. She hadn’t even noticed she was still clutching to it for support and figured he must’ve thought she looked so stupid welcoming the comfort of a plush toy. Another awkward chuckle escaped her as she threw it gently into its container, bucking down to lock it away as well as her memory of these last two minutes, hopefully.

Harry was a good cook, but that wasn’t really surprising at all— in fact, she couldn’t imagine there were many things he wouldn’t excel at. Y/N, on the other hand, she was terrible. She’d burned so many things in her apartments kitchen that she couldn’t keep count even if she tried. So naturally, he took the lead in every task she did, from cutting onions to seasoning the salmon.

“Wait, no, y’can’t— here,” she couldn’t help but giggle as he took the knife from her hands, cutting into the flesh himself. He huffed, but she knew it was teasing. “You’ve gotta learn how to cook.”

“I know how to cook basic things, just not some five star gourmet meal. I think you’d be surprised what I can do with some seasoning, eggs and tomatoes.”

“I have no choice but to take your word for it, do I?”

“Guess not. Can I do something else? I feel so useless.”

He clicked his tongue, not even sparing a glance her way. “Go sit on the counter and look pretty.”

And at first, Y/N didn’t know how to respond to that. Did she just… literally sit on the counter? Probably not. It was… a joke, right? How did he expect she would react to such a bizarre request? For a second the guilt she’d been feeling about potentially being unprofessional subsided in a flush.

Then he finally let his eyes settle on her and she just about fainted at what he had to say, “what? Do you need help getting up?”

She was 99% sure at this point that he just got off on pestering her, what with the dino, and now this? Prior to these last two weeks he’d never even spoken more than five words to her, and now he was inviting her to dinner. He probably found the confusion written all over her face amusing.

She could probably indulge a little then, right?

“Yeah, I do.”

He didn’t just laugh, though, like she’d expected him to— no, he ran his hands under hot water, wiped his hands on his (very) expensive trousers and walked toward her. He motioned to the counter as if asking her to get closer and—

“Wait, no, I can do it.”

He immediately stepped back, hands dropping from her waist and smirk molding his mouth.

“You can now?”

“Yes.”

He held eye contact for a few more beats before moving away with a solid nod.

What the fuck was that?

Y/N had expected him to dismiss her, uttering something along the lines of ‘I was only joking’, but that? Never would she have thought that that would be the response.

It was funny, too, because he never could’ve carried her up without at least a bit of struggle. She knew what he was used to— thin women, supermodels even, and she was neither.

So despite the confusion, she got up on the counter like he’d asked. On her own.

And when he’d started asking her about normal things like family and uni, Y/N slowly eased out of her awkward stance. She told him about her mother, her brother, and left her deceased father out of it. He smiled, nodding along to her words whenever the situation allowed it and kept his eye on the food.

A blink was all it took for him to announce dinner and the two of them sat at the table together, peacefully quiet.

It was around six thirty when the patter of tiny feet sounded through the house, from the stairs to the kitchen. Both of the adults waited patiently, eyebrows raised in surprise that the little gremlin had decided to wake up after only having slept for two hours.

“Daddy?”

Y/N almost melted at his sweet, buttery voice.

Harry hummed, “is that you, bub?”

He finally poked his head into the room, carrying a plush toy in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He studied the room before settling his green irises (clone of his dad’s) on Y/N.

“Y/N, you’re still here.”

She smiled, a pity smile, and answered in a sweet tone, “I am, bud. Is that okay?”

He merely nodded, stalking closer. Harry pulled him up into his lap, kissing his forehead before letting him rest against his front.

“I wanted to apologize for being mean before.”

Her stomach did another flip.

Was this a dream, or did a five year old just apologize to her on his own incentive? She swore these Styles boys surprised her every day!

Her eyes flickered to Harry and she watched as a proud smile stretched his mouth. He met her gaze, the grin undeniably wide, and shrugged as if to say didn’t tell him to.

“That’s okay, Jamie, I understand you were frustrated. Are you feeling better?”

He nodded again, although it was weak and subtle, “my throats itchy.”

Harry’s smile faded with his confession and he pressed the back of his palm to his son’s forehead, “why’d you get out of bed, then, silly? You need to rest if you’re sick.”

“Missed you, daddy.”

She could see that same guilt she’d seen so many times before manipulate Harry’s features again, and her heart broke a little bit for him. She couldn’t keep track of the amount of times she’d wanted to just break and say you’re a wonderful father to him, but stopped herself in fear of overstepping.

Knowing he wasn’t going to say anything soon enough, too lost in his own thoughts, she went on for him. “Tomorrow is Saturday, Jamie, how about you go rest so you can have a full day with your dad tomorrow? S’not nice spending weekends sick in bed, as you know.”

In a manner that was so much more than cute, Jamie’s fingers trapped his chin to appear deep in thought, and then he nodded. “That makes sense.”

Y/N almost laughed, “doesn’t it?”

“Will you be here too, Y/N?”

Jamie knew very well that Y/N wasn’t here on Saturdays, so she guessed he was only implying that she should be. An invitation of sorts.

But she really couldn’t handle being around Harry on the weekends as well as on weekdays, so she shook her head gently, “no, but I’ll be back on Monday, is that okay with you?”

To show his dismay, he jutted his lip out in a pout. “Can’t you come over for lunch?”

Harry nudged him, “Jamie, remember how we talked about what Y/N does when she isn’t here with us?”

“School. But there’s no school on Saturdays!”

“She does school, you’re right. When you get older, there’s so much you have to do for school that it never stops, not even on weekends. And you know what else she does? She meets up with friends, she plays tennis, she goes shopping for groceries. There’s tons she has to do besides spend time with us, yeah?” He never met her gaze as he spoke to Jamie, and it was better that way— he’d probably have caught her loved up eyes if he dared to do it. He remember details about her she didn’t recall telling him about. As if it hadn’t been enough, he added onto it, “plus, I reckon she’d appreciate a break from us, huh? We’re definitely not the only boys in her life, so we should share once in a while. No matter how much we like having her around.”

It was almost magical, the connection Harry and Jamie shared with each other. Nevermind what he’d said to make Jamie understand (she definitely hadn’t missed that last sentence— or the idea of ‘other boys’ altogether), it just made her happy to listen to them converse. It was healthy, a bit serious when need be but mostly light and protective. He did everything in his power to preserve Jamie’s innocence, especially about his upbringing and the whole mother issue.

After a long train of thought, Jamie slowly nodded his small head, “okay. Fine. But I get you Monday! No other boys Monday through Friday.”

Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled from her mouth, incessant and silly. “Okay, Jamie, I promise I won’t let other boys come between us Monday through Friday, okay? Is that good for you?”

“Me and daddy, though. He’s the only other boy allowed.”

She giggled again, avoiding Harry’s gaze but nodding nonetheless, “sure. Daddy too.”

She felt Harry shift out of her periphery.

“Okay,” he finally settled, outstretching his arm across the table, “pinky promise?”

She did the same, but just before Jamie had a chance to interlink his much smaller finger with hers, she pulled back. “If I pinky promise you on this, will you pinky promise me that you’ll finally go rest?”

He hummed in agreement.

She welcomed the promise, letting her finger link with Jamie’s for a few seconds until he felt ready to let go.

“Now go lay down. I’ll see you Monday, okay?”

“Kay. Can I have a hug?”

“Of course,” she cooed at him, arms already outstretched the moment he’d climbed down from Harry’s lap. Jamie gave the best hugs, so she figured Harry would as well. She’d never gotten to test that theory, though. “Okay, good night.”

“Night.”

Jamie took slow steps (he was much like his father that way, taking his time in everything he did) and slowly disappeared into the main room, eventually stalking up the stairs as both Y/N and Harry listened for it.

“Thank you,” Harry then broke the silence. Her eyes flickered toward him, eyebrows drawing together in confusion, but a nervous smile playing on her mouth. “You’re so good with him.”

“It’s my job to be good to him.”

“It’s your job to take care of him, but you’re not… you’re doing much more than just be nice to him and I appreciate that. So thank you.”

“He’s a great kid, so… not a very difficult thing to do.”

The air had somehow become thick and unwavering, unspoken words wafting between their bodies across the table and back. Harry looked like he wanted to say more but his jaw stayed shut in place and she certainly wasn’t going to pester him about it. It was already difficult to keep in mind that despite the lighthearted dinner, he was still her employer, and that the boundaries they had been practicing since the beginning of her time here were slowly being blurred and tested.

So it didn‘t really matter what she felt whenever he spoke to her, she had to preserve herself and her position here.

She feigned a glance at the clock to justify looking away and sat up in her chair, “I should go home.”

His nod was curt, “okay. I’ll get the keys.”

“No, don’t worry, I have to stop by somewhere else before. I’ll manage.”

It was a lie, of course it was.

“Fine.”

As Y/N made her way back outside, she regretted declining his offer and the farther she walked away from the house, the more she thought about the things they could’ve talked about had she let him grab his keys and escort her home. If he would walk her to the door like last time, without Jamie in the car of course, and bid her a proper goodbye. How maybe, if they’d inched close enough, they would share a moment of hesitation before kissing. Her imagination ran wild with it and she knew that it wouldn’t really happen, but the chances would’ve been greater had she just been bad.

Shit.

—

Y/N was crying.

She was bursting into tears outside of a bar looking like a pathetic, lost idiot— and it just wouldn‘t stop. She couldn’t recall anymore what exactly she‘d expected before going into the date she‘d spontaneously agreed to as a result of her mother‘s pleas, but it certainly hadn‘t been such an embarrassing let down. Her shoulders slumped as she thought back on her date‘s words: I don’t see this going anywhere, but you’re a really nice girl. Friends?

And why was she crying? She was crying because she knew what he’d really meant was: you’re not my type at all, and this was a waste of my time. How did she know? The way he’d looked at her, with a sparkle of disgust in his eyes, the tone he’d used; pitiful and mean. How he’d looked at other, skinny girls while Y/N had been planted directly in front of him and lastly, how he’d left before the date had even ended.

Y/N hadn’t left the bar as soon as he had, no, she’d stayed until now; closing time. She’d drunk herself to exhaustion, pulling shot after shot and even worrying the barista who went to her psych class at uni. Before she’d known it, the clock had struck three am and four hours had passed since what’s-his-face had left her to rot in there.

She had no idea what to do, she could barely even form a thought. It didn’t matter that she’d been rejected— this wasn’t about that, it was about something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Since the beginning of time relationships had been sparse and dreadful, so another notch on her belt couldn’t have mattered so much as to bring her to a multitude of tears, but she did feel unlovable and undesirable in the way she had throughout all of her life. People had told her things would get better if she waited it out, but they’d lied. Guys were still assholes.

There was really only one person she felt like contacting, and that was Harry. He’d been on her mind all weekend. She’d been wondering if she ever crossed his mind, if for a sliver of a second he allowed himself to think about her in the way she thought about him, and felt a disgustingly sour taste in her mouth when she realized the answer had to have been no.

But Y/N was drunk, and people did stupid things when they were drunk— so without much afterthought, she used the remainder of her battery on dialing his number. He answered after the first ring and her mind wandered to question the plausibility of him being awake at this hour.

“Y/N?”

She was struck watching the road in front of her, unable to answer. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

What had she done?

“Y/N, is everything okay?” another wave of tears overwhelmed her senses and as a result, she sobbed right into the speaker, and heard shuffling on the other side. “Sweetheart, where are you? What’s happened?”

“This guy— he just— he was so mean and he left me here—“

“Where? Where are you? Who left you?”

“The viper.”

“Y/N, that place closed twenty minutes ago. Are you inside?”

“No, she… she said I need to get out, so I did, but I didn’t know where to go cause m’drunk, and I…” there was a pause in which she realized how stupid he must’ve thought she was, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Okay, listen to me. Please stay there, don’t move, and send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”

She had no fight left in her, so she nodded to herself. Harry didn’t see, obviously, but he hung up with the hope that she’d understood him clearly.

When he arrived not fifteen minutes later, he put his car in park and hopped out to find Y/N sat on the floor, a lazy smile pulling at her lips when she laid eyes on him.

“Harry, hi! I was just thinking about you!”

He said nothing, a tick in his jaw as he helped her up on her feet, grounding her stature. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder and he kept a steady beat to bring her to warmth as quickly as possible. Y/N got the idea, aimlessly buckling up and failing miserably until he offered assistance.

“Thank you,” she murmured to him, though he refused to give a verbal response. He merely nodded, jaw still locked in place before he closed the door. Y/N watched as he walked over to the other side and opened the door.

He drove in silence and Y/N tried to be okay with that. She stared ahead, mind still gloomy, with her lips jutted out in a pout. The silent treatment made her feel like a scolded child, like Harry was her angry father who refused to speak to her because she’d come home past her bedtime. She looked over to scan over his features, make sure the crease between his forehead had subsided at least a little, but it hadn’t.

After the longest minute of her life, she finally asked, quietly, “are you mad at me?”

And when he didn’t say anything, her heart dropped.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Y/N didn’t dare to say anything for the rest of the ride. When they got back, Y/N opened her own door and hopped out, refusing to wait for Harry to help. He sighed, she could hear, but she just slowly trailed after him.

“Up on the counter,” he grumbled, grabbing a glass of water to help sober up. She took it from his hand.

“Harry, I’m sor—“

“Drink the water.”

She almost flinched at his angry tone.

Y/N was halfway done with the glass when he scoffed, unable to bite his tongue any longer, “I’m angry because you were irresponsible. First you go on a date with some dickhead—“ she opened her mouth to protest, but failed to when he put up a finger to halt her, “then you get yourself drunk and sit outside of the bar alone in a stingy area. Something could’ve happened to you, then what?”

All Y/N could say was, “it didn’t,” and it was the weakest argument she could’ve thought of.

“It very well could’ve and you’d have your stupidity to thank for it.”

Her heart banged again. She didn’t like getting reprimanded by Harry, nearly at the end of her rope anyway. She‘d never seen this side of him before, stern and miserly. Clearly Y/N had only really seen one version of him and had gotten lost in the illusion of it all.

In a last attempt to make him understand, vulnerable and naked, she let herself sniffle, “I don’t think anyone is ever going to love me.”

She‘d expected it to pull at her heartstrings more than it ended up doing— ironically enough, she felt fine confessing to him. Maybe it was the fact that she‘d bottled it up for so long that it was nice to finally admit to it, to allow somebody else to step into her shoes. Of course, every confession came with a tinge of embarrassment (it wouldn’t be a confession otherwise), but this one was still manageable. And yeah, maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her system, but who cared?

“What?”

“No one loves me. I’ve never… guys have never liked me enough to want to brag about it, or keep me around for longer than a month, and… and I do get it, cause I come with a shit ton of baggage, but it just… it takes a lot to be motivated about things that way. I’m twenty three and I’ve barely experienced what it means to love someone and actually have them love you back.”

The display of vulnerability floated heavily through the air.

He was silent for a second. He did that sometimes, she noticed, especially when he was processing things.

Once he did open his mouth, though, he knew exactly what to say, “you can’t let some immature boys get to you like this, you hear me? Tell me one good asset the guy you went on a date with had.”

Y/N shook her head, not because she couldn‘t have if she‘d thought about it hard enough but because she had no energy to continue this conversation any longer. He wouldn’t get it

“See? No guy is worth crying over, especially not on some dirty pavement outside of a bar.”

He truly did have a point there, she supposed.

But it wasn’t just about that, so she told him exactly that— well, at least tried to, “it’s more than… I don’t… I don’t feel good enough.”

“You’re being a bit silly, sweetheart.” She registered how sweet he’d gotten again, finger brushing against her knee and features softening just enough to convince her of safety. He probably felt bad for her. “You’re plenty good enough.”

“Y’don’t get it,” she murmured, “you don’t understand what it feels like to get rejected solely because of your looks.” Y/N had always felt slightly weird talking about her appearance with people who weren’t her closest friends, and even then she felt judgment coming from them. Each time they asked if she would come clubbing with them to score boys, she was never able to honestly express that she‘d never wanted to go because it was always her who was left riding home in an uber alone. And it wasn’t like she felt ugly— in fact, there were instances she felt so confident nobody could’ve told her anything, but then there were those few others… and her whole system came down crashing.

“What do you mean?”

He couldn’t be so daft, could he?

“You’re— you just don’t fucking get it, okay? It’s… whatever, I don’t care.”

That took some courage too, courage she only registered after having uttered the words, but she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t mutter the words this guy didn’t fancy me because I’m fat, because she still had more class than that— even drunk. Ever the childish, pouty person she was, she had more shame than that.

She buried her face in her hands, breathing out, “I’m sorry. Sorry, that was rude of me.”

“It’s fine,” he placed a warm hand on her thigh, thumb stroking soothingly. With a sympathetic look in his eye (confusion too, she guessed), he tried to pacify her concerns, “you need sleep, everything will be better when you wake up.”

He was probably right about that.

“Okay.”

As he escorted her up the stairs, she couldn’t help but let her eyes trail over his features, watching as they hardened and softened based on the turmoil occurring inside of his mind. She wanted to reach in there and grab onto clues, grasp an understanding of the workings of him, but he made that nearly impossible. She would look away if he caught her eye, cheeks heating up every time she was captured by his darkened green irises.

He opened the door, allowing her to take the first step. She didn’t really need the help, but she couldn’t complain when his hand posed on the small of her back so he could maneuver her onto the sheets.

“Do you want a change of clothes, Y/N?”

“Um, if you have something?”

She doubted there was anything in his huge closet that would fit her in the way she preferred, but the idea of spending the night in jeans was just as dreadful, so she took the chance and nodded.

He came back later with a stack of clothes perched on his left hand, the other holding another glass of water. “Anything else?”

Y/N paused for a moment to think and shook her head, “no. But just—“ she swallowed around the lump in her throat, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She couldn’t believe the words she spoke next, no thought invested into them: “will you come into bed with me?”

Time refused to pass, the ball was in his court.

When he gave a subtle nod, it was like god and the universe were sending good karma her way. Her compensation for the night. “Just until you fall asleep.”

Y/N scooted to the other edge of the bed, reaching down under the blanket to rid herself of her jeans and pull on those grey sweatpants. Surprisingly enough, they fit extremely well. Harry laid down over the blanket (to prevent getting too comfortable, probably) and perched himself onto his forearm.

Another bold wave met with Y/N’s courage as she reached out her hand to trail over his chest. Harry swallowed thickly.

“You’re really nice t’me.”

“You deserve to be treated well.” The snort that left her was completely involuntary, but it still made Harry frown. “You do.”

“Everyone does,” she later mumbled in agreement. He seemed to dislike the way she’d surrendered, though, because he did that thing with his jaw whenever he was ticked off.

What he didn’t like was the implication behind her tone that she only deserved respect because everyone did, regardless of her own character. She was disregarding her beauty and her kindness, her character, and reducing it to a commodity when it wasn’t.

He’d always had difficulty expressing his feelings, though, so he stuck with silence. Stone cold silence.

It pertained for five more minutes until he watched as sleep slowly overtook her figure, peaceful breaths cascading from her mouth. She looked so pretty asleep; relaxed, void of concerns and the crinkle in her forehead from tonight’s events dissipating into its initial form.

He wondered if she’d ever given him other implications of being an insecure girl— if she had, he’d caught none of them. He never would’ve thought somebody so effortlessly beautiful and kind as her could think to deserve less on such extreme levels. It made him wonder if anyone had ever treated her as she deserved; he noticed once that whenever she spoke about her family, she failed to mention her father. It seemed men had disappointed her in more ways than one.

There was inner turmoil bothering him. He didn’t know what he was feeling for his child’s nanny, but there was surely no other woman he felt as eager to take care of— picking her up, driving her home, clearing a room for her.

It was terrifying to allow himself these few minutes of observation because he feared the impure thoughts which would cross his mind. Not perverse, but intimate. She deserved more than him, he was sure of it.

He left the room after another five minutes, trying to be as subtle as possible as he walked to the door. It was later than four am, so he stopped by his son’s room to check on him. When he saw nothing out of the ordinary, he finally carried himself to his own bedroom.

He would lie awake until sunrise.

—

Y/N had never woken up so panicked before, chest heaving and mind elsewhere entirely. Her head was pounding and her heart rate palpable, she was sweating all over and she could only recall last night in small, blurry tidbits.

God, and she had to face Harry. On a Monday morning.

After maybe ten minutes of lying around and procrastinating, she finally moved herself out of bed. She pulled on her clothes from last night, drank the water that was situated on her nightstand and tidied up in the bathroom before going to search for him. She looked upstairs— no trace of him, so she cascaded down the stairs and made her way to the kitchen. On the way there, his office caught her eye. The door was cracked opened and at a closer peek, she saw him sitting at the desk with his hand buried in his hair, mumbling something. She knocked, he flinched.

“God, Y/N, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” she gave a sheepish smile, “are you busy?”

“I—“ he sighed, shaking his head. It was when he spoke into the phone lying on his desk that she realized he’d been one a phone call. Before she could backtrack, he’d muttered an ‘I’ll call you later, Stace’ to them and hung up for her. She stood there, fingers interlaced in front of her body and balancing on the balls of her feet in intimidation.

He didn’t look happy either, and that was probably because ‘Stace’ was Jamie’s mother. She would call every few months, he’d told her, and cause some sort of havoc— from wanting to talk to Jamie on the phone to wanting to see him in person. When asked why he didn’t like letting her see Jamie, he’d given Y/N a very vague answer; wouldn’t do any good. She’d settled with that back then, having sensed the energy shifting.

Y/N felt bad for him now, the stress assuming control of his features almost overwhelming to look at.

He was already glancing up at her expectantly, but the words disappeared from her brain and all she wanted to do, really, was comfort him.

“I— are you okay?”

It was a visceral reaction he had to those few little words, the furrow in his eyebrow deepening, “yes, why?”

“Because… well because you were talking to Stacie on the phone—“

His scoff interrupted her pity stutter, “so you’re listening in on my conversations now?”

Oh, she was no longer sorry; she was scared. “No! No, I’m not, I swear! I was walking past looking for you and I heard you mumble something, I don’t— I would never…” and he must’ve known that. He must’ve known that she would never, ever listen in on his conversations, nor try to overstep the line by doing that (obviously she’d fucked up last night, but aside from that). He knew her, he’d trusted her for long enough for her to know that he knew that, so his accusation ticked her off.

But he looked terrifying right now; eyes dark, eyebrows furrowed, closed off stance, and nothing like the Harry she’d gotten to know well. And she had no idea if it had been last night or this that had finally pushed him over the edge.

“So why bring it up?”

“Because you— because you’ve talked about it before and I was just— I wanted to check on you!” She was stuttering like an idiot, she was aware, but with her comfort bubble gone, her speech wasn’t a reliable asset anymore. She’d always been terrible at communication and even worse at confrontation. And he must’ve known that because he was using it to his advantage— and that was mean, because he knew she would never. He knew. Didn’t he?

“It’s not professional, Y/N, but I’m sure you know that. I’m sure you know that last night wasn’t either, but you keep fucking pushing me.”

And that… well, was partly right.

“I know last night wasn’t…” she shook her head, “it wasn’t professional, I know that. I don’t know why I called you, I don’t get it either, it just happened, really, and I wanted to apologize. I understand if you—“ she peered down toward her hands, swallowing the lump in her throat, “if you don’t feel comfortable with me being here anymore. With your son, I mean, I’d totally understand.”

Y/N thought that was quite sensible of her. Of course, if she could get a chance to have a repeat of last night, she would take it in a heartbeat— but she couldn’t, so this was all she could do. She loved working here, giving it up would hurt, but she understood if that was what needed to be done.

“You just… you can’t fucking call me at three am in the morning drunk off of your arse—“

“I know that—“

“Clearly you don’t!” And she detested how his voice raised. “And clearly you don’t get that there are things you just can’t talk about; like Stacie, or your own relationships, or whatever the fuck else you’ve brought up to me.” If she felt like a scolded child yesterday, then she’d had no idea how bad it could get. “I’m your— I’m your employer, not your fucking therapist. I’m not here to clean up your fuck-ups, pat you on the head and tell you it’s alright.”

Her eyebrows furrowed because she knew that too, and she found it borderline preposterous that he would imply she didn’t.

There was a 180 here, and she was becoming less and less understanding.

“I told you I don’t know why I called you, Harry, I don’t know! What am I supposed to say? I was terrified and sad and don’t ask me why, but you’re the only person who actually gets what I’m talking about half of the time, so it just happened!”

“You act like I’m somehow responsible for you.”

Her frown deepened; she hated the notion that he had to take care of her in some way, as if she was incapable of it on her own account. “On what basis? I think you might be pressuring yourself into that, Harry, because it’s fucking ridiculous. I never made you be any type of way.”

He released a frustrated breath, “you have to stop worming your way into our lives— you’re our nanny, that’s it. You don’t ask me about my personal life, you don’t call me in the middle of the night to make me worry and you don’t ask me to get into bed with you.”

“You act like I don’t know that!”

“Evidently you don’t.”

“Yes I d—“

“Just—just stop. Stop talking.”

It shut her up. It did not only that, the increase of his volume had made her flinch on the spot. She wasn’t a fan of confrontation, as mentioned before, but what she despised even more was yelling. She couldn’t stand yelling, fighting, accusations being thrown in the air with no regard to anyone’s feelings. It was an extremely sensitive thing for her and she definitely hadn’t expected to experience it with him today.

Y/N saw him a little differently in this light. The sternness with which he delivered those words, strict and mean, reminded her of her childhood. He saw her weakness, saw the stress she was under, and did nothing to relieve the situation. Instead he’d yelled at her.

Her hand was shaking a little and tears were forming in her eyes. She couldn’t let him see it, though, the weakness. She couldn’t allow him to see that a simple instruction had made her want to cry.

“I can’t deal with you today, Y/N, so please just… just go.”

She left without another word— straight up turned around and closed the door behind her with shaky hands. She couldn’t stand him right now, but even more she couldn’t stand herself.

She’d fucked up so badly.

And maybe… maybe she needed to quit.

part two!

And there we have it! don’t hate me for that ending it was necessary!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles concept #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles series

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veesstar0555 · 1 year ago

Text

barista!reg: hello, can i take your order?

singledad!james: please could i get a peach iced tea? harry?

harry *peeking over counter*: a cookie!!

barista!reg: im so sorry there sweetheart, i didnt quite see you! of course you can have a cookie!!

singledad!james: ill also get your number- i mean, i mean just the cookie is fine also.

barista!reg *smiling*: right away for you.

later when james stumbles out of the cafe shrinking in his embarrassment, he notices the cute barista wave to harry and signal to his cup. a number is printed onto the order sticker. “text me”

#marauders #james potter #jegulus #dead gay wizards #regulus black #jegulus agenda #jfp #rab #sunseeker

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ethereacals · 10 months ago

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Hi lovely! I love your writing! Can you do a single dad! james one shot where harry is in kindergarten (lily isn’t in the picture) and you’re harry’s teacher and james has a crush on you? No pressure if you don’t have time! Thank you!

hi dovie!! thanks for much for requesting! i was on holiday so i couldn’t respond quickly but i hope this was worth the wait 😊

Paper Rings~💌

singledad!jamespotter x fem!kindergartenteacher!reader

summary; Harry is a charming kid, but his dad might be even more charming.

a/n; no hate to my girl lily! i just like to imagine that she’s with mary or pandora (:

wc; 1.2k

warnings; none (:

contents; muggle au, james sirius and remus co-parent harry, lily isnt in the picture

YOU WERE NERVOUS, i mean, rightfully so.

Monday, August 23rd. the first day of school, and the first day of your new job.

in the past, you thought you’d be anything but a kindergarten teacher. but after volunteering with a local daycare over the summer…

you were smitten.

besides, you knew one day you’d actually have kids. but that was about… seven years down the line. (yes, you had your future all mapped out)

and it’s better this way, really. you get to hang out with the kids, paint with them, read with them, talk to them, and then at three o’clock you can just return them back to their parents and not have to deal with kids all night.

perfect plan, right?

wrong.

after pacing your well-decorated classroom back and forth about sixteen times in the past twelve minutes, a fellow teacher came in to chat.

“Hi, you’re Y/N, right?”

you spun around to the source of the greeting.

“sorry, yes, i am.”

you shook his hand with an anxious type of firmness.

“it’s nice to meet you, i’m Remus. i teach seventh grade.”

his smile lit up the awkward mood in the room.

“i assume you’re a bit nervous, yes?”

“a bit more than a bit.”

you admitted embarrassingly, they were just kids.

“well, you’ve definitely gotten the best age group to start out with.”

“i have?”

“mhm, all you have to do really is teach them their ABCs, and make sure they don’t eat the non-toxic paint.”

you let out a soft chuckle at that.

“i’ll certainly try my best, Remus.” he smiled.

“well, you’re about to get some kids in here so i should probably leave. just be careful, when i started out i was so much taller than the kids that some of them climbed onto me like i was a tree.”

he chuckled, definitely easing your nerves.

“that sounds like hell.”

“it was.” he nodded, closing your door with a soft thud, leaving you to your own thoughts and feelings.

until a young boy walked in with his dad, nervously clutching onto his big hand.

“hi… you’re ms. L/N, right?”

the dad spoke in a soft spoken manner, clearly not wanting to spook his son. (totally not because he was absolutely astonished and terrified that his sons teacher was maybe the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen)

“yes, i am.”

you answered with the same tone, swallowing down your anxiety.

“well… this is harry.”

Harry ducked behind his legs.

“i’m sorry, he’s not usually shy.”

“it’s alright, everybody gets nervous the first time they try anything.”

you crouched down to the boys level.

“hi, Harry. i’m Ms. L/N.”

“h-hi, Mrs. L/N."

the boy smiled cheekily as he held his little hands.

"we're gonna have so much fun today, so don't be scared." you returned his smile, yet you were probably about as nervous as he was.

you stood back up to face his dad, he was tall... very tall, and his eyes a hazel hue.

god, was he handsome.

no, that was not a good thing to say about someone who was definitely married with a kid.

but... maybe just sneak one more glance..

but, of course. the kids began to pile in, and the handsome young dilf dad waved goodbye to his son, and turned to leave.

little did you know he was thinking of you too.

your first day on the job was incredible, and time had flown by to Christmas Break.

your classroom was lovingly decorated for the holidays, and you had gotten to know your peers a bit better.

Remus was definitely your teacher buddy, you'd get coffee every Friday after school to discuss the past week and your plans for the next.

you had come to find out (through these coffee debriefs) that Remus was actually roommates with James- Harry's incredibly hot father.

and Remus was practically Harry's uncle, along with his long-time boyfriend, Sirius,

"So you're the Moony Harry is always talking about." He chuckled, blushing embarrassingly at the nickname.

"Moony was a nickname from High School, but Remus is difficult for Harry to pronounce so we went with that to make it easier."

You smiled, Harry was a very smart kid for his age.

"so.. James, is he-?"

"single? yeah, he chased after his highschool crush for about seven years at our boarding school, and once she finally gave in they got married quickly. but she eventually realized that she didn't like James that way, and had a thing for our close friend, Mary. so they broke off, luckily it wasn't a nasty divorce but Mary wasn't ready to take on the burden of a child, so James took Harry and now he lives with us."

Remus quickly explained before realizing that was probably a ton to drop onto you all the sudden.

"i-.. sorry, i didn't mean to drop that all on you at once."

"it's alright, and i'm sorry for James."

"he's alright now, the divorce took a large blow onto all of us, since... you know.."

"from the outside it looked perfect, didn't it?"

"couldn't have explained it better myself."

He smiled, sipping on his tea.

"besides, i think he's got his eye on someone."

"oh really? who?" that was a selfish question.

"you."

"w...what?"

you deadpanned, thinking he was joking.

why hasn't he said he was kidding?

where's the punchline?

"he wont stop bloody rambling about you, Y/N."

"what?!"

"yes! he wouldn't stop talking about how you had these braided pigtails two or three weeks ago and how adorable you looked-"

his rambling about James' minute obsession with you faded into the background as you attempted to process-

James, James Potter, James Fleamont Potter, your favorite students father.

likes you, his sons Kindergarten teacher who probably has black circles under her eyes because she barely sleeps anymore cause she stays up and thinks about him-

"Y/N!"

"WHAT?"

Remus broke you out of your thought jail.

"i said that you need to set something up with him, because i know you like him too and i cant keep being the monkey in the middle and trying to get you both to finally wake the fuck up and date eachother!"

You'd never heard Remus so insistent, he was always so calm and collected.

"Remus... i've never asked anyone out before."

"And? it's really not that difficult."

you sighed, pinching your nose bridge softly.

"fine, fine. I'll talk to him Monday."

and you dreaded Monday, but it also couldn't come soon enough.

after finishing up your classes for the day, you walked Harry to James.

"Hey.. Y/N."

"James."

"Daddy!" Harry went running to James, gripping onto his leg with all of his toddler force.

"He did great today, as usual."

"That's great to hear..."

You accidentally stared into his eyes for moments longer than you should have, but it didn't feel awkward.

"Y/N, I have something i need to tell you."

"i have something i need to tell you too..."

"I like you, alot."

you blushed furiously, why wasn't this easy?

"i-i-i like you too.. alot."

"would you... want to go out for dinner, sometime?"

"I'd like that."

"FINALLY!" shouted an exasperated Harry.

#marauders era #fem!reader #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders #fanfiction #kindergarten teacher reader #x james potter #reader x james potter

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eds6ngel · 2 years ago

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Hello lovely I was hoping you could do a Steve with a kid fic! Reader is Steve’s kid’s teacher and they have a parent/teacher meeting and Steve falls for her!

Love you and your writing 💋

✎ when i kissed the teacher | part one

firstly, thank you so much for the compliment darling!! secondly, you are one lucky person as i've decided to make this into a multi-part series! i've always been a massive fan of dad!___ x reader, so i've taken it upon myself to create a series out of it! i'm aiming for four or five parts, but we will see where it takes us <33

warnings: dad!steve. singledad!steve. 90s!au. fem!reader. mentions of bad mother. deep talks about life. swearing. slow burn. mutual pining. pet names. fluff. comfort. steve's daughter is the cutest. more warnings as the chapters commence! [4.9k].

“All right my loves!” you yell calmly to the children, them waving at their parents from the glass window, the group excited to head home after a tough day of school. “Come and sit on the rug for me, I have one more thing for you all before you get to go home!”

A bunch of chatter and pattering feet can be heard as the six-year-olds bounce over to the colourful, spotted rug, each plopping themselves down and crossing their legs as they look up at you with eager eyes.

You cross your arms and put your finger up to your lips, the children copying you and nudging their friends to look up at you and replicate your action. The final kid finally turned his eyes towards you and copied you, you shaking your head and smiling, “What took you so long Harry?”

He frowns slightly, “I’m sorry Miss, I wasn’t paying attention.”

If there’s one thing you could call a success in your teaching, it would be the ability for your kids to reflect on where they went wrong. It was one of the most important things they could learn as they grow.

“It’s okay honey, just remember to use those listening ears to hear your friends quieten down next time, okay?”

He nods as all of the kids sit with their hands tucked between their crossed legs, you now knowing that everyone was completely focused. “Firstly,” you smile softly, “You have all made amazing progress today, I’m very proud of each and every one of you.”

You can see each of them smile brightly, bouncing in their sitting position, especially the less-able kids, they deserved some extra love with all the hard work they put in to improve.

“Secondly,” you say, leaning over and grabbing a neat stack of papers, “Next week is your parent-teacher meetings! So, I’m each going to give you a letter and I want you to give it to your mommy or daddy, okay?”

The children nod, you smiling and standing up, giving each of them a letter. Once you put the spare sheets on the side, you say to them, “Okay, as always, stay seated and I’ll call you up if I see your mommies or daddies, okay?”

You walk over to the window, peering out to see two different parents stood next to each other: Mr. Byers and Mr. Harrington. Mr. Harrington, who from day one insisted you call by his first name Steve, waved at you, you giving a small smile back as you turn towards both dad’s daughters, “Okay, Ashley! Alena! Your daddies are here!”

The two girls stand up, toddling over to their tables to grab their backpacks, you giggling to yourself as you see how huge they look on their small figures. Ashley is the first to stand in front of you, smiling as you open the door, “Go and see daddy. See you tomorrow!” you say, the girl rushing over as Mr. Byers picks his daughter up, grabbing the sheet she was holding in her hand and heading out of the gate.

As you turn your back, Alena is standing there, grinning at her dad through the open door. Alena was a spunky character. She was super friendly, always willing to help out the other kids and almost always had her hair styled in two un-even pigtails. But, she wasn’t fussed, her hair usually a mess by the end of the day after tumbling around on the grass in the playground. The amount of times you had to bring in the poor girl when she had scraped her knees or elbows was insane, but she always put a brave face on. She was a very cute kid and you were lucky you got to teach her.

“Hello!” you say, pretending to jump at her sudden presence, making the young girl giggle, “Oh, come here my love, your backpack strap is twisted.” You lean down and un-twist the purple backpack strap, swiping the few bread crumbs off of it as you signal to her dad. “There’s your dad, honey. Have a great rest of your day!”

She bounces over to her dad, smiling as she passes him the letter, him taking a quick glance over it as he realises what it was.

He had to spend time talking with you. Just you, him and Alena. Alone.

It was no doubt that Steve knew of his little crush on you. He tried his best to push it to the back of his mind, but with seeing your gorgeous face five times a week, how could he ever forget about your beauty?

Now, he had to practically spend time alone with you. Sure, it was still under professional circumstances, but how was he supposed to concentrate? It was a meeting to talk about his daughter’s school progress, yet his mind treated it like a first date.

Steve looks up from the sheet to see your back turned attending to the other students, Alena tugging at his leg, “Daddy, come on! I wanna go home!”

“Yeah, okay, okay,” he replies, waiting for the moment for you to turn to face the window again, which you do. He can’t stop staring at you as you give him a small wave, Alena waving back at you as you giggle, the girl not knowing that you were in fact waving at her dad, who weirdly couldn’t stop looking at you. Strange.

You divert your eyes to attend to the next kid, Steve snapping out of his trance as Alena continues tugging at his jeans. “Okay pumpkin, I’m going, I’m going.”

He grabs his daughter’s hand as he heads out to the gate, him trying to compose himself at the inevitability of you two talking in private. Hopefully his daughter being there would be enough of a distraction.

Until she wasn’t…

You were setting up your classroom for the day. It was the start of a brand new week, so you knew it was going to be a little bit more tough on your end to get the kids to be quiet. They had curious minds, so they would definitely want to go into excruciating detail about their weekends to their friends.

A knock on the door can be heard as you lay out a worksheet full of math problems on the children’s desks. You turn around, smiling as you see Alena standing there with her dad, sheet of paper held between her small hands. “Good morning Mr. Harrington, and good morning to you too Alena!” you brightly say, her dad replying, “Please, just call me Steve.”

“Well,” you chuckle, “Good morning Steve and Alena. How was your guys’ weekend?” you ask, turning your back as you put out the final worksheets.

“Daddy and I went to the aquarium!” she beams.

“Ooh, that sounds like fun!” you smile widely, “Did you see lots of fish and sea creatures?”

“Uh huh!” she chirps, “I saw clownfish and seahorses and turtles and octopuses!”

“That sounds like you had a great time! But, remember, what do some plural nouns end in?” you ask her, trying to correct her on her simple mistake. Even you didn’t have the answer to why some end in ‘I’ instead of ‘Us,’ it was just another weird variation of the English language.

“Um…” she thinks, “They end in ‘I?’”

“Good job! So, it wouldn’t be octopuses, it would be…”

“Octopi!” she smiles brightly.

You put your last worksheet down as you walk over and ruffle her hair, “Well done!” You look down to the sheet of paper in her hand, “And what is this?” you ask, taking it from her delicate hands.

“Parent-teacher meeting letter,” Steve tells you, “Is it alright if I bring her along? I chose some of the earliest slots as it’s just easier for me to come straight from work to here instead of hiring a babysitter. But, if you just want parents alone, I’ll get a friend to pick her up.”

“No, it’s totally fine Mr. Har— Excuse me, Steve,” you reply, “I’m sure a lot of parents are in the same position as you. You can totally bring her along! It’s also an opportunity for her to hear how she can improve first hand, which is great. So…” you mumble, walking over to your computer and opening up Excel, “Alena… 3:45PM. Is it just you coming or is your wife coming also?”

He freezes up at the mention of his ex. His ex-girlfriend’s name wasn’t on the school system at all as he frankly has nothing to do with her. But, you’re Alena’s teacher, how were you supposed to know his life history? Steve stutters as he thinks of a reply, “I, um… I don’t have a wife…” Shit. Not the answer.

“Oh my Gosh,” you frantically say, looking up at him where he had now entered the classroom and was stood in front of your desk, “I am so sorry. I’ve been so busy that I haven’t had the chance to go through the student’s personal files yet. I apologise for assuming, I really am.”

God, you were too kind. It just made you all the more attractive.

“It’s okay,” Steve sighs, “It’s not even on the record. Well, her mother isn’t mentioned on there for… reasons, so it’s fine really.”

You sympathetically smile, “I may teach children Steve, but I know when an adult is hiding a pain too. Whatever happened, I truly am sorry, and you shouldn’t have to pretend that everything is okay to make others feel comfortable.”

He knew you were right. But, you were the first person to ever say it out loud. To be completely honest with him. No beating around the bush and just accepting his passiveness, you understood how he felt about Alena’s mother, even without the backstory. You’re exactly the kind of person he needs in his life.

You turn your head, sighing with a smile, your head leaning against your intertwined hands. Alena was sat at her desk, grabbing a piece of paper and a couple of crayons from the centre and doodling away. It was a rule in your classroom that no kid was to start their early morning worksheet before the bell rang. That way, no kid felt left behind.

“She’s such a good kid,” you smile, “She’s kind and brave and always completes her work. I’ll obviously tell you more of that on Wednesday, but you’ve done an amazing job raising her, especially as a single dad. I hope you know that.”

Steve looks into your gorgeous eyes, fumbling over his words, stunned at the comments that easily flow out of your mouth. You weren’t afraid to be kind, and that was a beautiful quality. “I try my best,” he awkwardly says, not used to the compliments, “I have a hard time accepting that, but, thank you anyway.”

“Of course,” you softly reply, “You deserve to hear it.”

The two of you stay in silence, the quiet sound of Alena’s crayons scraping across her paper being the only noise in the brightly decorated classroom. Steve rubs the back of his neck and coughs, “Well, I should get going. Head to work and all…” he says, pointing his thumb behind him towards the door.

“Uh, yeah…” you awkwardly reply, “Don’t want you to be late,” you quietly laugh.

“I’ll see you later,” he finalises, referring to when he would pick up his daughter at the end of the day. You nod, Steve heading over to Alena and asking for a kiss which she gives him, before he turns around and heads towards the door, exiting the classroom.

You sit there in contemplation, how did you compliment him so easily? You didn’t do that to other parents, and you knew that a few of them were single moms. Why just him? Why did you feel different towards him?

Steve was feeling a similar way as he pushed the door open out to the main entrance. He swore he wasn’t going crazy, he felt something between the two of you. It couldn’t have just been his crush on his daughter’s school teacher convincing him that. He’s dated women in the past and even they haven’t complimented him to that extent. Even the women he tried to date as Alena was growing up hadn’t dared say anything complimentary about his parenting skills. You were different. You showed him the kind of praise he always wanted.

He was falling in love with his daughter’s teacher.

Your day had gone pretty well. As predicted, the students were extra chatty because of their busy weekends, but you didn’t mind. All of them getting along with minimum bullying in your class is what made you most proud. If they were kind to each other, a little extra talking was good for the mind. They were developing, which means their brains were super busy. It was a sign of healthiness.

All of the parents had shown up on time to collect their kids, which was the biggest accomplishment for you. Usually, at least one parent was running late, so you had to take on the task of guiding them to the front desk to wait for their mom or dad. But, today you were free, meaning you got to go home a little earlier, or so you thought.

As you led the last kid out to their parent, you shut the door, beginning to tidy up the classroom before you drive home. However, a faint knock can be heard against the glass, you turning to see Steve and Alena patiently waiting outside, his larger hand holding her smaller one.

You open the door, you smiling and saying, “Hi guys!” Steve speaking up, “Hi, um… I know you’ve probably filled up a lot of your slots by now, but is it okay if I could change the time for our parent-teacher meeting? Work asked me to stay an extra two hours.”

“Of course!” you reply, walking over to your desk, “I’ve shut down the computer for now, but I’ll make a note in my planner, okay? I keep everything stored twice in case this thing decides to play up.”

“Sounds great.”

You flip through the pages, finding Wednesday’s date and opening the cap to your pen, “Okay. How late are we talking?”

“You have anything after 6PM?” Steve asks, “I can do slightly earlier if it’s a problem for you, but I don’t want to accidentally run late and mess everything up.”

“Not to worry,” you reply, “I’m pretty sure I have after six,” you look down through the list, finding some empty slots after 6PM, “Yes, I do. I have 6:15 and 6:25. Any preference?”

“6:15 would be great, thank you,” he says with a sigh, thankful that his change of work schedule hasn’t messed up yours. You cross out Steve’s 3:45 appointment and re-write him in for 6:15, making sure to update that in the school system tomorrow.

“Also,” he starts, “Is it alright if I get my friend Robin to pick up Alena on Wednesday?”

“Um…” you think, “If you could give me a description of them, that would be helpful. You know, keeping the kids safe and all. Don’t want to give your daughter to any stranger who claims they are your friend, you know?”

“No, I totally get it,” he replies, “She has a dirty blonde coloured hair that, I guess is shoulder length? She has a fringe too, slight wave to her hair. A little shorter than me, so I guess like 5’9-ish. Blue eyes, freckles on her face, she had black painted nails the last time I saw her which was like three days ago. Is that good enough?”

“Yes, let me just write it down so I don’t forget. I’ll confirm with Alena on the day anyway, she’ll probably be excited to see her,” you say, making a note underneath your column of parent-teacher meeting times.

“Oh yeah,” Steve chuckles, “She calls her Auntie Robin, so if she yells that, you have the right person.”

“Great,” you smile, mumbling out, “Okay… Alena picked up by ‘Auntie’ Robin — short, dark blonde hair with fringe, blue eyes, freckles, black nails. Okay, all written down.”

“Thank you,” Steve breathes out, “I’m still on for dropping her off tomorrow and Wednesday, it’s just picking her up Wednesday afternoon that’s the change. Hope it’s not too much of a fuss.”

You wave your hand, “You’re fine, trust me. It’s only one day, you pick her up every single other day on time. Plus, you told me in advance, which many parents have failed to do in the past,” you softly laugh, reminding yourself of the endless days of random people claiming they’ve come to pick up a certain child, you having to go through the endless hassle of contacting the parent to confirm the stranger is who they claim they are.

“Yeah, well, I thought it was best you should know. Hawkins is a scary place, I’m sure you’re well aware,” he awkwardly smiles, trying not to focus of the events that happened just under ten years ago.

“Yeah, not got the best reputation around here,” you laugh, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Well, I guess I will see you in the morning.”

Steve smiles, lifting Alena up onto his hip, “You will. And again, thank you for letting me change the time.”

“No problem at all,” you smile, “Bye Steve. Bye Alena!” you shout, her giving you a big smile and a wave from over Steve’s shoulder. God, she was a cute kid. And her father… Well, he wasn’t bad-looking either.

The parent-teacher meetings had been going well so far. You had conversations with parents that were brave, their kids little mini-me’s of them, to kids you just wanted to save from the inevitable attitude they would someday inherit from their parents. As a teacher, it sometimes felt that you were becoming the mother that the children wish they had.

No parent had actually booked after 6:15, so Steve was your final parent to speak with, and you couldn’t wait to gush about how beautiful of a girl Alena was.

As you bid farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Cromwell, you sigh in your seat, leaning far back and placing your hands on your face. A voice interrupts you, “Not the nicest, huh?”

You move your hands away, leaning forward once again and softly laughing, “Yeah, bit of a silver spoon shoved up there.”

Steve enters the classroom and takes a seat in front of your desk, “I hate parents like that. I heard them from outside saying that you were lying about Rhys. Like, come on man, just accept that your child has flaws. You didn’t even say anything bad!” he exclaims, arms flailing up in the air.

“Right?” you smile widely, “All I said is he needs to improve on his spelling and suddenly I’m the worst person in the world. I never even said it was a bad thing, they came to that conclusion. I don’t expect every child to be perfect at everything, I wouldn’t even say that about Alena, it’s normal for children to have a few tough spots in their education.”

Steve softly smiles, “Well, you’re lucky I won’t complain even if Alena was bad at everything.”

You laugh, “I certainly won’t be doing that. Speaking of, shall we start?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” you say, flipping through your grade sheets and coming across Alena’s name, “Firstly, grades. I don’t really do a typical grade system, your A-F kind of thing, I actually do it in stars. A bit weird, I know, but it actually helps the kids understand their current learning levels, so I just adopt it as well,” you smile.

Steve grinned at your explanation, actually preferring your way of grading. So what if it was weird? It was different, and he liked that.

“Her spelling is spectacular, 10/10 on her spelling bee last week, 9/10 the week before. Pretty consistent in the top levels there. That would land her in adult talk around an A, so that’s five stars in child’s talk,” you say, turning the page over to the reading section, “Are you aware of our reading levels?”

He furrows his eyebrows, “I can’t remember what the highest level is again.”

“Not to worry,” you reply, looking him in the eye, “So we do levels 1-6. One obviously being the lowest, six being the highest. Six is very rare in this class, just for warning. I think I only have two students on level six, so don’t panic that Alena’s not there yet. She’s on level four, which is just above average, a B grade if you will. Plenty of room for improvement, so I’m not overwhelmingly worried.”

Steve laughs, “Definitely a change from me. I can’t spell for shit,” he freezes, “Sorry, I shouldn’t curse, should I?”

You chuckle, “We’re technically out of school hours, curse all you want honey.”

Honey. That was new.

“Now,” you say, flipping over to the next page, “She is struggling a little with math. I’ve noticed that she gets her numbers confused around a little. When counting on her fingers, sometimes she skips a number or goes ‘3, 2, 3.’ And that has sadly affected her in other subjects. We sometimes do timelines in history, and her switching up of numbers means she’ll put a date from the 1500’s in front of the 1600’s. So, she’s currently on two stars, which is sadly a D in normal grades. But, it is only simple mistakes. If she doesn’t get those numbers mixed up, she’ll naturally bump herself up to a B, possibly even an A. I was wondering if you could help me out with this next part.”

“Of course,” Steve replies, “Anything to help my pumpkin.”

You smiled to yourself. What a cute nickname.

You pass him over a couple sheets of paper, “Since I have fifteen kids to teach, sometimes it’s a little hard to notice the mistakes Alena is making before I mark her work, and the markings do equate to the grades. So, I have some math problems here, and I was wondering if you could maybe help her at home? Try and get her out of the habit of skipping numbers or mixing them up. That way, if you know they’re right, you can bring them in, I’ll mark them, and they’ll bump up her grade. Also, the affect of you getting her out of the habit will probably help her in class too.”

He takes the sheets off of you, “Totally, I’m on it. She’s still doing better than I ever did at school, so that’s always a bonus,” he slightly chuckles.

You smile, shaking your head, “To be honest, as humans, we’re not supposed to be good at everything. I shouldn’t really tell you my thoughts on this, but the education system is designed for competition. The idea is that kids are supposed to be good at everything, which is utter bullshit to me. Alena is probably just not gifted at math, and that’s okay.” You sigh, “But, because of the system design, if she wants to graduate first grade, she’ll need to get at least a C in math.”

Steve smirks, “Ain’t that the truth. But, I understand. Math homework will be on the agenda for this weekend,” he smiles.

You close your book, “That’s the main grades done. Writing is also very on point, she can trace the letters almost perfectly. It’s just removing that guide now and seeing how she does without it,” you smile.

“Great,” Steve agrees.

“Now, I’ve done this with every parent tonight, so I’m just going to talk about how Alena is as a growing human, because no amount of grades will ever outweigh personality, and it definitely won’t for Alena. She’s is such a sweet girl. She’s always willing to help others, easily makes friends due to her kind persona and has really respectable manners,” you explain, “I mean, you saw what she was like on Monday morning. Instantly came in, followed my rules about not starting any tasks until the bell rings, and just sat there drawing. She’s amazing at being honest and respectful, but also has just enough spunkiness to set her apart in a crowd. What I’m saying is, you’ve done an amazing job raising her Steve, and I’m sure she gets her beautiful personality from you.”

Steve can’t help but let a small blush rise to his cheeks at your compliments. Again, it was just something about you. You take notice, but don’t point it out, smiling widely at his reaction.

Steve sighs happily, “Well, I’m glad she’s like that. I wasn’t the most… nicest person at school. I let the popularity get to my head, all that shit. Treated everyone lower than me like they were a second-class citizen. Even did that to Jonathan, Mr. Byers, for a while. His wife is actually my ex,” he chuckles, “She pretty much got me out of that shitty popularity ordeal. So, I think I just want my daughter to be the opposite of me. Be the me I could’ve been when I was younger, you know?”

You nod, “I get that. I’ve learnt that parenting can either be one of two things: you don’t want your kids to end up like you, or you want them to be exactly like you. Based on how you described yourself, I’m glad you chose the first option. Although,” you shrug your shoulders, “I would give yourself some credit. It seems like you’ve done the inner healing and reflection to give your daughter a chance to become a kind human being. A shit person can’t create a nice one.”

“Yeah,” he thinks, “Maybe you’re right. I do still say mean stuff every now and again. Judge people before knowing them, all that kind of shit. I’m not proud of it, but it’s just engrained into me by now.”

You look into his eyes, “I think that’s more a generational thing. I mean, I try my best to see why people act the way they do, but even I judge people. What I said for Alena also applies for you too, Steve. Humans aren’t meant to be this definition of perfect. We’re always gonna have a flaw. You can try and work on it as much as you want, but there’s only so far you can go. Sometimes, it’s just easier to accept that’s who you are and it’s actually doing you more harm than good the more you critique yourself for it.”

You were so goddamn smart. You couldn’t have been more than twenty five years old, and yet, you had a better understanding of life than he ever did. Maybe it was seeing life through a kid’s lens, but he feels that can’t be all to the intellect. Life experiences make you understand the world. It sure helped him understand it. He was intrigued. He wanted to understand your mind, get to know you better than just his daughter’s teacher. You were such a beautiful soul and had such a fascinating mind.

Steve has no words as he stares at you in awe, unaware that he hadn’t even said anything as you clear your throat, “Um… anyway…” you begin, grounding Steve back to reality, “Do you have any questions for me?”

His mind did go to asking you out on a date. But, you were his daughter’s teacher, was that even allowed? Was that breaching any rules or codes?

And little did he know you were asking yourself the same questions. Your brain was itching to research into the questions. Why did he have to be one of your student’s dads?

“Uh, no, no I don’t,” he stutters out, taking this as a queue for him to leave as he raises from his chair. You hold out your hand, him taking it as you shake it, each basking in the warmness of the other’s palm.

“Well, thank you Steve for being here. I usually do another one of these around March time, so I hope to see you here for one of these again then!” you smile.

“Of course,” he replies, “But, really I should be thanking you. Supporting me and all when I basically rambled about my life.”

“Just because it’s a parent-teacher meeting doesn’t mean I have to lose all my kindness to be professional,” you sympathetically say.

Steve hums in agreement, you weren’t completely wrong. He’d take you any day to compliment and uplift him. If only he could somehow have that…

“Yeah… Well, see you tomorrow morning,” he smiles, turning his back and heading out the classroom door.

You stand up and start to pack away your folders and planners into your bag, thinking about Steve. You could tell that he wanted to change, wanted to shape his daughter into the man he never was. Give her the opportunity he only wished he had. But, there was something about him. Sure, he had a gorgeous mop of hair and the prettiest hazel eyes, but there was something inside too. A sense of kindness, warmth, comfort. Something you’d never felt so intensely with a man before.

Shit. You were falling for your student’s father.

thank you for reading!! i can't wait to write for the rest of it! i'll try and get a chapter out every few days amongst other smaller fics, so please be patient <;33

→ next chapter.

#eds6ngel #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington x y/n #dad!steve harrington #singledad!steve harrington

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haarrrys · 2 years ago

Note

Can you do more single dad harry? Maybe harry struggles with Amani wanting more independence?

independence

wc - 1.5k

🏷️ tags - dad!harry , singledad!harry , minor angst¿, dad!harry x amani, and of course, fluff.

pairings - singledad!harry & daughter!amani 🍪🥛

summary - amani wants to go to a party, harry isn’t so sure.

a/n : i usually like writing amani as a baby/toddler but for this i decided to portray her as a teen, so she's like 14/15 :) the timeline in terms of harry's career might be messy but just know he's still touring and doing well!

more harry and amani!

"no."

"but dad—"

"i said no amani." harry sighed, shutting his laptop harshly and giving her a cold, yet gentle stare. he was becoming frustrated with her. he had been in his at home office for only ten minutes before amani began pestering him about a party. at first he jokingly ignored her, which she found humorous until she realized her dad was very serious about not letting her go.

he understands what she's going through; harry was once an impressionable teen like herself, wanting to do what everyone else was doing, even if some things he did get into could be deemed illegal.

harry regretted a lot throughout his teen years, he lied to his mum a lot and snuck around. he just doesn't want the same for her.

"this is what I'm talking about dad! you don't let me do anything! for just once let me do something on my own! ill be home before ten pm, and farha will be with me the whole time. just, please dad." her voice is quiet at the end, and it makes harry's heart feel terrible; like he did something horribly wrong to have his daughter in tears, even though he's only trying to keep her safe.

"I let you do things." harry whispers, ignoring the real problem at hand.

amani rolls her eyes in annoyance, "like what? last time i did anything remotely by myself was when i snuck out for an hour just to be with some friends, and even then you freaked!" she said, letting out a choked laugh of disbelief.

"I had every right to freak out, you weren't home and you didn't answer your phone! how do you think that made me feel?" he said, wrapping his arms around himself defensively. something similar about him and amani is that they're both stubborn. when they argue, neither wants to admit their faults.

he wishes amani wasn't so much like him sometimes, so sure of herself that she puts herself into situations that aren't safe, so vulnerable that's shes bound to end up hurt by someone.

"how it made you feel?" she deadpans, "do you ever think about me!? how I feel?!"

harry of course considers his daughters feelings, and well being in every situation, but before he can answer amani is storming off, muttering "forget it, I don't care." and he's left to the sound of her feet pattering against the floorboards, becoming more distant with every step. she has the decency to not slam her door, like harry definitely would've.

sometimes, harry wishes amani wasn't like her mother, who always ran away from problems.

—

around eight pm harry began to feel bad. he knew he wasn't wrong for not wanting his daughter, who is only fourteen, to attend this party with no parents or adults present. anything could happen to her, even if her friends are present.

who knows what they could be up to? amani has gossiped to him about some students vaping and doing drugs in the bathroom stalls, and although he trusts amani not to do these things he still doesn't feel safe sending her off while knowing that's what most of them could be doing.

is it so wrong to want to keep her safe? he knows he's struggled with letting her do things on her own but he's gotten better. she has sleepovers, goes to movies, and has even gone on vacation with her friend. all without harry. he's let her do countless of independent things, as long as he knows she's safe. this party, he doesn't think is safe.

—

a knock disrupts harry, and immediately he knows who it is.

"farha? amani isn't going to the party sor—"

"i know..can i come in please?" she cuts him off, not trying to seem rude but having urgency in her tone. harry nods, and moves to the side to allow her to come in. he's known farha since she was in pull ups, so at this point he considers her family.

"she's not in the best mood." he says, watching the girl take off her shoes.

farha sighs, smiling sadly. "I know, she's been reading my text but not answering. i brought some snacks to cheer her up." harry smiles back at her, glad that his daughter has such a great friend.

"aw, that's really nice of you." he says, only before he's interrupting himself.

"did you end up going to the party?" harry knows this may be a weird question, but he's just curious. and knowing farha's parents, they definitely would disapprove of the whole idea too.

she shakes her head, "i did want to go, but only if amani would come too. the party seemed lame anyway, got shut down by cops few minutes ago too. i guess me and amani are lucky, 'cause they're searching everyone." farha explains, laughing a bit towards the end.

harry smirks, and the childish part of him wants to go up to amani and chant a string of, "I told you so" but he's in his late thirties now, so he refrains from doing so.

after talking for a-bit longer, farha heads up to amani’s bedroom, leaving harry to his thoughts again.

he walks over to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. he takes a sip, feeling the cold liquid sliding down his throat. it's been a long day, and he's feeling overwhelmed. he needs to figure out how to balance his daughter's need for independence with his need to protect her.

after all these years, he can’t help but feel like he’s still holding her back. even if his intentions are purely for good.

as he thinks about this, suddenly, someone is behind him, hugging him.

he doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s his amani.

"hey love." he says, trying to sound calm.

"dad," amani says, her voice shaking. "i'm so sorry. I shouldn't have stormed out like that. I know you were just trying to protect me."

harry feels a weight lift off his shoulders. he knows that amani is young and full of hormones, and sometimes she just needs a bit of space. but he also knows that he needs to let her spread her wings, even if that means letting go a little bit.

harry smiled as he wrapped his arms around his daughter, kissing the top of her head. "It's okay, love. I know it's not easy growing up," he said, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

amani sighed and leaned into him, and in that moment, everything felt right in harry's world. he knew that as long as he had her by his side.

harry took a deep breath and pulled away, smiling down at amani. "you know, I've been thinking. maybe we can find a compromise. how about this — you're allowed to go to the parties, IF I know they’re safe, and we set some ground rules that you have to follow."

amani's eyes lit up, and she nodded eagerly. "yes!dad, I’d love that!" she exclaimed, hugging him again. harry couldn't help but grin, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

they stood there for a moment, clinging to each other for comfort. it was a reminder of how lucky they were to have each other. they might not always agree on everything, but at the end of the day, they had each other's backs.

he knew that parenting was a constant learning experience, but in that moment, he felt like he had finally gotten it right. he had found a way to give amani the independence she needed while still keeping her safe. It was a delicate balance, but one that he was willing to work on every day — as long as he had his lovely daughter with him.

and as they hugged each other tightly, harry knew that everything was going to be okay. they had each other, and that was all that mattered.

“you guys are so cute,” farha gasped, making herself known as she walked into the kitchen, eating a snack (that was meant to cheer up amani) and joining in on the hug. both harry and amani laughed, rolling their eyes.

everything was gonna be okay.

thank you so much for reading! ☕️ 🤍

requests are always open!

-fic rec masterlist-

look at me posting.. lol.

but no, over the summer i swear I’m gonna be posting & writing a lot more! so anons who sent requests months ago.. get excited.

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #dad!harry #dad harry #harry styles one shot #dadrry #harry fanfiction #harry x amani #harry styles x pregnant!reader #harry styles dad #harry styles fic #harry x reader #soft!harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles daughter #harry styles oneshot #one direction

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smilesstyless · 2 years ago

Text

Just Luck

Summary: y/n finds Harry’s daughter and he thanks her and asks her for a coffee

Pairing: Singledad!harry x fem!reader

Wordcount: 860

Trigger warnings: a bit angst

A/N I want to make a series from them and I hope you like it

Y/n moved a few weeks ago into the city. She had to move because of her job. She has no friends here and it’s also hard to make new friends when you get older. Y/n is going every day in the park with the hope she would talk to a girl or a man but it never happened because she is shy.

On her way back home she heard a noise like someone was crying. She just wanted to ignore it but she can’t. She thought to herself what if they lost their parents or a kid has lost their way? She couldn’t forgive herself if she didn’t look at who was crying. She walks after the crying noise until it gets louder and louder. She stands between several trees and bushes but sees nothing. She looks behind the trees and there sits a little girl crying.

She squats down and looks in her bag for tissues. She blows the little girl's nose and wipes away her tears with the handkerchief. She helps her up and lifts her so that she can see everything.

She is wondering how she got here, it’s far away from the playground.

“Where are your mommy and your daddy?” Y/n asks the little girl without a name.

“Lost daddy,” she sniffles. Her voice is warm and soft. She must be three years old, she can’t speak very well but that’s not the problem right now. Y/n needs to find her dad otherwise she has to bring her to the police and she wants her to be by her parents and not somewhere else.

“Can you tell me what your daddy looks like?” Y/n asks her with the hope she doesn’t have to look for every male in the park and ask her how he looks.

“Brown hair ‘nd t-all,” she whispers. Now she doesn't have to look for blond guys. Her eyes are red from all the crying. Y/n would cry too, if she lost her parents when she was this little.

“We will find your daddy, I promise, just tell me if you see him,” she hums in response. She wraps her arms around y/n’s neck and looks over her shoulder.

They are walking for a while now and they haven't seen her dad. She promised she will find her dad and she doesn't want to disappoint her. Y/n should be home by now and cooking dinner for herself but she needs to find the dad from this kid.

“Daddy,” she points at the guy who is walking in her direction. “Daddy,” she smiles happily. Y/n sets her down. The guy kneels and she runs into his arms. He picks her up and twirls her in the air. He rests her on his hip. Her smile is huge, and so is his smile.

“Did this nice lady find you? I was looking for her all afternoon,” He presses kisses all over her face, giggles leave her lips.

“Thank you so much for finding my little Angel. I was so scared. Don’t scare me like that again,” he whispers into her ear. She got all shy since her dad is with her.

“You’re welcome,” y/n smiles shyly onto the ground. “What’s her name?” She asked the good-looking stranger.

“That’s Rosie. I can’t thank you enough for bringing her back. I’m Harry by the way,” he holds his hand out, and y/n shakes his head. “Do you want coffee at my place?”

“I can’t H—”

“As thank you, please—” he cut himself off as he noticed he never got her name.

“It’s Y/n,” she smiles at the nice stranger named Harry. “I would love to get some coffee,” she looks at Harry’s arms and sees his daughter is asleep.

“Today was a lot for her,” he tells y/n. “Thank you again,” he looks at her with a smile on his lips.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

They reach his place, y/n gets in first and then he brings her into her room. He puts her shoes off and lies her on her bed. “I’ve never seen you in this park before. How long are you living here?” He turns the coffee Machine on.

“A few weeks. I love your flat by the way,” she looks into his living room with his little orange couch, toys are lying in the sitting area. Little boxes are standing under the window sill. Harry sets the mug with coffee in front of her. On his lips is a warm welcoming smile. “How old are you?” He looks into his fridge for some milk.

“Thirty, I made cookies if you want some,” he holds a plate with chocolate chip cookies out. Y/n takes one and stares at Harry for a while. “I made it for Rosie, these are her favorites. I won’t poison a pretty girl in my flat,” y/n blushes as he said she is a pretty girl.

“I should get home, I hope I see you sometime again,” she grabs her stuff.

“Can I have your number, I wanna make sure you got home safe,” Harry hands y/n his phone out and she enters her number.

#singledad!harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry fanfic #harry styles au #harry angst #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fic #harry styles concept #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles smut #harry styles

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harstyle · 11 months ago

Text

the styles' nanny: part two

Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 10.2k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex

here’s part one!

A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!

—

I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now.

I’ll see you soon,

Y/N

That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and had sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered.

Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.

Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.

It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself. Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s whose name was Andrew.

“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?”

Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum.

“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?”

“Of course.”

As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.

But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.

He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.

He was ready to offer that to her.

—

Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.

And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.

“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”

Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing out dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.

She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.

Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.

“No.”

His eyebrow raised, “no?”

“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”

He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.

“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”

“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”

Concern warped his features.

“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”

She’d turned heads.

“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.”

She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.

“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.

The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.

“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”

“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”

In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.

“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.

As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.

“Are you driving me to my apartment?”

And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.

“Where’s Jamie?”

He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”

“Oh.”

The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.

Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.

“Y/N, have some water.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.

He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m tired.”

“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”

She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”

“Y/N.”

That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.

“Why’d you go out drinking again?”

“Wanted to.”

“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”

“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”

Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.

Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”

Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”

“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”

It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.

The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.

It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.

“You still there, baby?”

And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.

But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.

“Yeah.”

“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”

“No, I‘m not like you.”

“Ouch.”

Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.

“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”

His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”

And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine.

“Yeah.”

“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.

“Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”

She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”

Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.

“I know so.”

“Thank you.”

“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.

“You sure?”

“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”

And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?

For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.

“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.

She knew what.

“Nothing.”

“M’kay.”

“Stand up for me?”

Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.

As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.

“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”

He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.

He hummed, “I know.”

“But thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”

Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.

“Last time what?”

He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.

He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.

Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.

What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.

She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.

—

Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.

Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”

“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”

“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”

“Probably.”

Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.

“I—“

“Are you— oh, sorry.”

“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Harry smiled, “are you okay?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“

Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”

Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.

“No go on, tell me.”

“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”

“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”

“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”

“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.

The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.

“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”

A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.

“Oh.”

He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.

“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.

There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture most. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.

“But you…”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t… because of yesterday?”

“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”

His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“

“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”

“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”

She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”

“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”

“Yes.”

Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”

“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”

“Enlighten me then.”

Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.

So she deflected.

“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“

“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”

“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."

Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.

“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”

“I don’t know.”

She almost laughed, “sure”

“Sweetheart—“

“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”

“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”

“There’s nothing to consider, okay?! I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“

What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.

It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.

Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.

But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.

“Wait.”

His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”

“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.

He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.

“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”

She only nodded.

He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.

Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.

—

Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.

The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.

Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).

As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.

“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”

“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”

“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”

“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”

Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.

“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”

Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”

“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“

��Well then let’s call him, shall we?”

Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.

“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”

“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.

It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”

“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”

“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“

“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”

A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.

Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.

And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone: “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.

—

Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.

“Y/N—“

“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“

“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”

She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.

“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I didn’t think she’d do this.”

Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”

“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”

Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”

“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”

“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”

“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”

“Do you love her?”

Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.

Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.

Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.

“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”

Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.

Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It felt instinctual, though.

When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.

“That’s… yeah. I get that.”

This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.

Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.

“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight. “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”

“Okay.”

A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”

“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”

“I’m quitting. That’s it.”

“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“

“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”

She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the next room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.

Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.

And yet, he was determined to keep trying.

—

Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.

The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.

This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.

“So how flexible is time for you?”

“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”

“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”

“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”

This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.

That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”

Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”

“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”

“I don’t expect you to understand—“

“No. We’re not doing that.”

“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”

“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“

“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”

And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”

“For good reason.”

“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”

“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”

Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.

“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”

“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”

He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”

“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.

“Do you have another job lined up?“

“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”

“Where?”

“A cafe.”

“Where?”

“You wouldn’t know it.”

“Are you hired?”

She huffed, “no.”

“Where else?”

“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”

“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Financial help, maybe?”

Y/N groaned, “no.”

“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“

“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“

“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“

“Can we just— can we not?”

And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts. Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.

There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.

For now, he had to be okay with this.

—

Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.

She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.

He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.

But it hadn‘t been real, had it?

It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.

Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.

But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.

Wouldn‘t he?

He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.

And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.

She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.

“You okay?”

“Hm? Yes. Why?”

A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

God, she was feeling small under his gaze.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they didn’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”

“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”

But she failed to move.

Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”

Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“

“Last night you what?”

“I had… I had this dream and—“

She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.

“Is this okay?”

His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”

He hummed.

“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”

“It’s only seven.”

“Yeah.”

Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat. He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head back so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder.

“Can you do my arms?”

“Of course, baby.”

She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.

And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.

“Is this okay?”

She nodded promptly, heart racing.

Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want or need Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.

A love like his would feel so great.

“You look really beautiful, you know that?”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Me neither.”

“You’re the one who keeps running.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.

“I’m scared to stay.”

He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”

“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“

“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”

Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”

“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”

“I doubt that,” he retorted.

“Past experiences have proven as much.”

He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”

“How easy it is to love you.”

Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.

“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”

Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.

And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.

When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.

—

A month later.

“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”

As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.

She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”

“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”

“You ready then?”

“Yes.”

Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.

“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”

Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.

“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”

“Yes, they still are.”

Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”

“You said that you don’t.”

“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”

Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”

“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”

“Who?”

Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.

He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.

When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.

“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”

The silence was short lived.

He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”

“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”

“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”

“Really?”

“I do.”

This stumped her.

And now it was her turn: “wow.”

Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.

“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”

She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.

“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“

“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“We’ve only been together—“

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”

“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”

And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.

“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”

“Would he?”

“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”

“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.

“Then move in with us.”

A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”

“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”

“Harry!”

“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“

“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”

“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”

“I know that.”

“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”

“I need to make money somehow.”

“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”

“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”

“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“

Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”

“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

“Sorry.”

Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”

Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”

Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t regret it."

He'd been right.

The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it

tags:

@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl

I hope I didn’t forget anyone!

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles materlist #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles x nanny #harry styles ceo #harry styles fanfic rec

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vrittivsanghavi · 2 years ago

Note

I forgot to mention that the last scenario was step dadrry. 🤭 anyways, here’s another one. Enjoy ❤️

(Single dadrry famous)

“I’ll see you after the show,” Harry mumbled as his lips pressed up against Y/n’s cheek.

Tonight Harry was kicking his Latin America Tour in Mexico this evening.

Y/n had agreed to stay back at the hotel with Luna while Harry performed.

They had just gotten in last night from Los Angeles and Luna was having a hard time adjusting to the time change.

“We’ll miss you,” Y/n stated sadly.

Harry, Y/n, and Luna were actually able to spend some quality time together as a small family while Harry had a short break.

She enjoyed the time she was able to spend with both Harry and Luna at the same time.

“I’ll miss you guys too,” Harry brought her into his chest. “But I’ll be back soon. Even watch a movie and have some cuddles later if you’re still up?”

Y/n smiled at the mention of watching a movie. It’s been a ritual ever since the beginning of tour for the U.S.

Since Harry would still be pumped up on adrenaline he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a couple hours after the show. That’s how him and Y/n started watching tv or movies helping both of them fall asleep.

Y/n chuckled, “Is that even a question?”

Harry smiled at he and looked next to her to see his daughter looking at him with sad eyes.

“I’ll be back soon. You’ll be fast asleep but I’ll be here in the morning when you wake up. Maybe if you’re good for Y/n we can go out for breakfast tomorrow. How does that sound?”

Luna’s eyes lit up at the mention of going out for breakfast. Maybe she would be allowed to get pancakes with extra whipped cream and chocolate milk.

She nodded her enthusiastically, “Yea!”

Harry smiled, “Well be good for Y/n, alright?”

“Okay,” she nodded and leaned forward getting engulfed in Harry’s warm embrace.

He planted a kiss to her head and one last peck to Y/n’s lips.

After the show Harry checked his phone seeing a message from Y/n

Y/n:

She feel asleep after she got her tummy full with some dinner. Couldn’t even stay awake to see her daddy perform for just a little bit 🥺

Harry smiled down at his phone seeing his little girl fast asleep in his and Y/n bed.

His life has been an emotional roller coaster but one thing for certain is that little girl is the best thing that has ever happened to him.

Her mother definitely wasn’t but without her he wouldn’t have the best miracle he gets to call his little girl. So it was worth it in his eyes.

And he will forever be thankful that Jeff introduced him and Y/n because without her help and guidance he would still be struggling a bit.

He couldn’t be more thankful for the wonderful girls he gets to call his family.

I'm sobbing. Please why would you do this to me. This is so cute and adorable. I'm sobbing ☹🥺🥺🥺💗 thank you Jess I love you @stylessupremacy

#the love of my life 🥺#love youuuuuuu #jessssssssss #my spouse ❤😌#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #jessssssss #dadrry #dad!harry #singledad!harry

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atlafan · 2 years ago

Text

She Was There - Part One

a/n: This fic has everything: single dad!harry, psychiatrist!harry, a live-in nanny, a slight age gap (she/s 27/28 and he’s like 37), Harry is a dom, but also a switch, and the slowest of burns! There are 11 parts of this up on my Patreon. The series is officially done, so I’m posting the first part here for yall to get a taste. If you want to read the other 10 parts, it’s only $5.00 on my Patreon. My peeps on there really enjoyed this story, so I hope you do too! Please reblog!!! Leave me notes and comments!!! Come to my inbox to give me your thoughts!!!

Warnings: none! this is only the beginning 😈😈😈

Words: 2.8K

Pairing: Harry x OC (Aubrey Williams)

Being a single father is hard. It’s even harder when you work more than sixty hours a week, and your three kids are all under the age of ten. It’s karma. It has to be. Harry only had to be a dad every other weekend because the children lived three hours away with their mother, but she recently passed so now the kids are living with him full time. He was able to take a sabbatical from work, thank God, but he’s due to return in a few weeks and he still hasn’t found a nanny for the kids.

He thought of just finding an after-school sitter, but he knows that when he goes back to work, he won’t have the time in the morning to make breakfast and lunches, and get the kids ready for school. His ex-wife was getting enough alimony and child support so she didn’t have to work. The kids didn’t need anyone extra.

It was difficult at first. Harry mourned the loss of his ex-wife, but he needed to stay strong for children. She was gone now, forever. They got divorced for a reason, but she was still the mother of his children. The ache he was feeling was normal. Luckily, the kids didn’t mind moving in with Harry. He enrolled them all in a private school, he figured they could use a little extra structure, and he also just wanted to give them the very best. He felt guilty for basically being an absentee father since the divorce.

Maddie is ten, she’s the oldest, Cole is eight, and Sean is six. Each child an even bigger surprise than the last, but a blessing nonetheless. That was the one thing Harry and his ex-wife agreed on the most. No matter how much they fought, they made sure to put the kids first.

But now Harry has to get back to work because he would like to continue to provide for his children without eating into his savings. He can’t exactly do his work from home now that they’re living with him, so he has to go to his office. Many of Harry’s patients have been seeing Niall while he’s been gone. Niall’s been a wonderful help to Harry. It’s not easy being a psychiatrist, nor is it easy to take on someone else’s patients for an extended period of time.

Harry’s been interviewing plenty of nannies, but he wants to make sure the kids feel comfortable with the hire, and none of them have clicked yet. Most days, the kids whine that they don’t want Harry to go back to work, which breaks his heart. But he didn’t spend four years in undergrad, four years in medical school, and another four years in a residency program to not be a practicing psychiatrist. He and Niall own their practice together, and have a few other colleagues that they’ve hired on. They do quite well.

After another failed interview, Harry’s not sure what he’s going to do. He contemplates maybe doing telehealth appointments, but he really doesn’t want to do that kind of work at home.

Later that night as he makes his way up to bed, he finds his three children fast asleep on his mattress. He pouts at how cute they are all snuggled up together. He gets in on his side after washing up, and Sean makes his way to cuddle up close to him. Harry sighs and puts his arm around his son. He needs to figure something out, and soon.

***

Burning the candle at both ends isn’t sustainable. But Aubrey isn’t sure what else she can do right now. She’s been living in a hotel for the last two weeks, and that isn’t exactly cheap. She barely even has time to enjoy the soft mattress with how much she’s been working. But when you catch your boyfriend cheating on you in your own home, you leave before he has a chance to give you some bullshit excuse.

“I told you, you can crash on my couch for as long as you need.” Sidney tells Aubrey over coffee on Sunday morning.

“No, I don’t want to put you out.”

“You know…my boss’ associate has been in the market for a live-in nanny.”

“That sounds like it could get messy. I feel like the wife always gets jealous.”

“He’s a widower.” Sidney whispers. “And on top of that, they were divorced, so it’s not like he’s sobbing over how much he loved her. He’s been at home for months taking care of his kids. They lived with the mom full time and only saw him every other weekend.”

“How many does he have?”

“Three, all of them are in elementary school. My boss has been taking on all his clients to help out, but I don’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep helping. You’re so good with kids, Aubrey. You were always the most sought-after babysitter.”

“Babysitting and being a nanny are two different things. Especially if I’d be living there. What if the kids hate me?”

“Aubrey, who could ever hate you?” Sidney asks flatly. “Do you want me to ask my boss for more information? He thinks very highly of my opinion.”

“That’s because you suck his dick every other day.”

“Shh!” Sidney swats at her friend. “I told you that in confidence. No one knows, and no one needs to know.”

“Mhm.” Aubrey rolls her eyes. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to have more information. It would be a better job than working at a 24-hour diner.” She sighs.

“I’ll see what I can do. As good as the coffee and the free breakfast is here, you deserve better.”

“Thanks, Sid.”

***

A few nights later, Niall brings over Chinese food for Harry and the kids. Harry’s eternally grateful, and the kids are overjoyed about the food.

“So, Sidney, you know Sidney…” Niall starts as he and Harry clean up in the kitchen.

“She’s your assistant who gives the good head.” Harry smirks.

“Exactly.” Niall nods. “But don’t say that out loud again. Anyways, she has this friend Aubrey who needs a job. She caught her boyfriend cheating on her, and they worked together, so she had to quit her job, and it was this whole thing. She’s been living in a hotel, and it’s starting to add up. Sidney told me Aubrey’s great with kids.”

“Does she have any experience as a nanny?”

“Well, no, but-“

“Then how could I trust her with my kids?”

“Could you just give her an interview? She and Sidney are close, and Sidney’s been worried about her.”

“And you care because…?” Harry smirks.

“Don’t make me say it.” Niall groans. “Please, H?”

“Alright, I’ll give her an interview. But if the kids don’t like her, I’m not hiring her.”

“Deal.”

***

Aubrey’s mouth is agape as she pulls up to Harry’s home. It’s fucking huge. Sidney should have prepared her more. She takes a sip of water before getting out of her car. She makes her way up to the door and takes a deep breath. She rings the bell, and a moment later, an older woman opens it.

“Hello.” Aubrey smiles. “I’m here for an interview.”

“Hi.” The woman smiles. “I’m the kids’ grandmother. Harry had to go into the office today.”

“Oh.” Aubrey nods.

“He said it would be alright if I conducted the interview, please come in.” She steps aside and lets Aubrey in. “My name’s Millie.”

“I’m Aubrey, it’s nice to meet you.” Aubrey shakes her hand. “This is a gorgeous house.”

“Isn’t it? Harry bought it after the divorce. Believe it or not, when he was married, the house he had was even larger. His ex had extravagant taste.” Millie shakes her head. “God rest her soul.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss, that must have been really hard.”

“It was a total shock, but that’s life.” She sighs. “Anyways, Harry asked me to give you a tour of the home, and then you can meet the kids. They’ll be home from school soon.”

Aubrey nods, and politely follows Millie around the home. She wouldn’t have her own section of the home to herself, but she’d have her own room and bathroom, so that would be good. Millie explains that the job would include some light housework, mostly for the children. Laundry, afterschool snacks, breakfast, and lunches. Aubrey would also need to help with homework, baths, and bedtime. It wasn’t anything that scared Aubrey. It all seemed pretty standard.

Around 3PM, the kids get home from school. Millie tasked Aubrey with making a healthy snack for the kids while she greeted them at the door.

“Okay, kids, this is Miss Aubrey Williams.” Millie smiles.

Aubrey pouts at the three children. They’re way cuter than she was expecting.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you all. What are your names?” Aubrey asks softly.

“I’m Maddie.” Maddie hops up onto the stool at the kitchen island, and grabs one of the slices of apple covered in peanut butter that Aubrey set up. “That’s Cole, and the one clinging to Mimi’s leg is Sean.”

“They call you Mimi? That’s adorable.”

“Grandma didn’t have the right ring to it.” Millie laughs and helps Cole and Sean up onto the other stools. “Maddie is ten, she’s in fourth grade, Cole is eight, he’s in second, and Sean is six, he’s in first.”

“Wow, you all are so close in age.” Aubrey smiles. “That’s nice. Do you like your school? I know it’s still new.”

“It’s okay.” Maddie shrugs. “Could I have some juice, please?”

Aubrey looks at Millie, and Millie nods, so Aubrey grabs three Capri Suns out of the fridge. Maddie automatically helps Cole and Sean with their pouches.

“Do you like the uniforms?” Aubrey asks.

“I like not having to think about what I’m going to wear when I get up.” Maddie answers.

“Oh, I bet. Do you still get to do what you want with your hair and stuff?”

“I think so.”

“What do you say after you finish your snacks, you all go change into something comfier? You all can watch a little TV to unwind until dinner.” Aubrey tells them.

“You’re not going to make us do our homework right away?” Cole asks, his eyes widening.

“You guys were just in school for, like, eight hours. Your brains need a break. We’ll eat dinner around five, then we’ll do homework, then we’ll wash up before bed. How does that sound?”

“Works for me.” Cole shrugs.

“What’s everyone’s bedtimes?”

“I’ll answer that.” Millie says. “Maddie is allowed to stay up until 9:30, while Cole and Sean go to bed at 8:30.”

“I like to read before bed.” Maddie says. “That’s why Dad lets me stay up later.”

“Yeah? What do you like to read?”

“Babysitter’s Club.”

“Oh, I love that series!” Aubrey beams.

“Kids, go on and change, yeah?” Millie tells them. “And I don’t want to hear anyone fighting over the remote, understand?”

“Yes, Mimi.” The three say in unison before hopping down from their stools.

“They’re so cute.” Aubrey says to Millie.

“Aren’t they?” Millie gushes.

“How have they been doing after losing their mother?”

“As good as they can.” Millie sighs. “Luckily, since Harry’s a psychiatrist, he knows a thing or two about helping children deal with their grief.”

“May I ask…how did she die?”

“It was abrupt. One second, she was fine, and the next she wasn’t. Maddie really stepped up apparently. She’s taken on a lot. I think she’s resentful towards her mother. The boys look up to her, which is good. Honestly, I think it’s been the toughest on Sean. He was a clingy baby, didn’t like to be put down at all. It’s carried over a bit. He’s so sweet, the poor thing. When the kids first moved in with Harry, they slept with him every night. They’ve gotten better, but they still have their nights.”

“Rightfully so. I couldn’t imagine losing one of my parents at such a young age, and then having to move and start all over somewhere new.” Aubrey sighs. “What would get them really excited for dinner?”

“I went shopping earlier this morning, I was planning to make a baked ziti. Would you like to help me make it?”

“Yeah.” Aubrey nods.

The ladies get to work on dinner while the kids watch television. When dinner’s ready, they all sit at the table together and eat. Aubrey asks the kids more questions to get to know them better, and they ask her questions too. Maddie does most of the talking.

Aubrey helps the kids with their homework after dinner while Millie cleans up. She observes her grandchildren as they work with their potential new nanny.

“I was hoping Harry would be home by now, I’m sorry.” Millie says to Aubrey before she leaves.

“It’s okay.”

“I think things went well. I’ll get the debrief from the kids in a bit.”

“Thank you for having me over with them today. I had fun.”

“We’ll let you know one way or the other soon.” Millie smiles, and opens the front door for Aubrey.

Harry doesn’t get home until around nine. He apologizes profusely to his mother, but he explains that he needed to get some writing done and catch up on emails. Maddie stayed up in the living room with her book so she could talk to her father. She comes shuffling into the kitchen where Harry and Millie are talking things over.

“There’s my sweet girl.” Harry smiles and lifts Maddie up to sit on the kitchen island. “You look exhausted.”

“I had gym today.” She shrugs.

“How come you’re not up in bed? I thought you liked to get cozy with your book.”

“I do, but I was waiting up for you.”

“Oh?”

“Hire her.” Maddie says. Harry and Millie look at each other, then back at her. “Cole, Sean, and I talked it over. We like her. Hire her.”

“Just like that?” Harry chuckles.

“Dad, she treated us like people. She asked us questions about things other than what our favorite subjects in school are. She let us watch TV after snack, she helped us with our homework, and she even got Sean to sleep without having to cradle him like a baby.”

“You all felt comfortable with her? Remember, she’d be living with us.”

“Hire her.” Maddie hops down from the counter. “We haven’t liked anyone else, and we won’t like anyone else you bring in. We want Aubrey.”

“Mimi?” Harry looks at his mother.

“I liked her a lot. I looked over her resume, same as you, and I think she’s more than qualified. She was sweet with the kids. And as much as I’ve loved being here, I’m itching to get back to Florida. So, I agree with Maddie. Hire her.”

#she was there #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #friends to lovers #slow burn #harry styles x oc #harry styles x y/n #singledad!harry #doctor!harry #dom!harry #switch!harry

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haarrrys · 2 years ago

Note

Hey! Would you write something about Amani getting her first period?

growing up 🍓

wc - 1.4k

🏷️ tags - dad!harry, singledad.harry, minor angst¿, dad!harry × amani, and of course, fluff.

pairings - singledad!harry & daughter!amani 🍪 🥛

summary - amani gets her first period

(a/n)- sweet sweet anon who sent the request months ago, tysm for being patient with me. im so sorry for my laziness lol

more harry and amani!

a knock rang throughout the room, startling sarah. "who is it?" she called, setting her sage green nail polish onto a nearby dresser.

she figured it could be room service, just wanting to clean, or the lunch she ordered.

"it's me— amani." sarah heard, just as she got closer to the door. sarah smiled, opening it. "hey love— is everything alright?" she asked, growing more concerned as she took in amani's worried face— as well as her paled complexion, that replaced her usual tan.

it wasn't unnatural for amani to come stay with sarah in her suite, as harry, her father, and the rest of the guys normally took up harry's room, causing ruckus.

sarah usually stayed in her own room, with her baby, accompanied by amani, who could always use some girl time.

but, what was unnatural was the way amani shyly walked into her room, scouting the room incase anyone else was present before speaking.

"it's just me and max," sarah assured, referring to the sleeping boy in the middle of the bed.

amani sighed, "i think.. i think I started my period." she winced, her breathing picking up as she revealed it. sarah gasped, her expression softening while a smile broke out onto her face.

"awhh, that's a good thing! it's natural, you're growing up! I can't believe it." she smiled, hugging the girl. "here, come follow me. i think i still have some stuff left." she said, pulling away from the hug and walking towards the unnecessarily large bathroom.

she opened the drawer, skimming through some thing before finding two boxes of pads and tampons.

"okay, so, since it's your first time I suggest using pads— just cause they're easier, but if you wanna use the tampons..?" sarah said. amani blushed, "ill just use the pads."

"alright! that's okay. do you know how to put one on? I don't know if harry explained it to you." sarah asked, causing amani to smile. "he tried, but he knows as much about periods as I do—nothing." she laughed, making sarah join in with her.

"that's fine, I can show you if you want." sarah offered. amani shook her head, feeling embarrassed, "i can figure it out." she dismissed.

sarah smiled sadly, "amani, it's normal to feel weird.. or even uncomfortable about these things, but almost every girl goes through it. you don't have to feel embarrassed, especially not with me, okay?" she explained, making amani smile sheepishly.

times like this, she wishes she did have a mother to talk about puberty, periods, and just her body changing, but she's thankful that she has someone who is basically a mother figure— sarah.

of course, harry tries his best to fill that role, especially now that amani's actually growing into a woman— however, she just feels more comfortable talking to someone who can relate to her.

"thank you," she whispered.

sarah smiled, as if to say a silent 'your welcome.'

"oh and sarah—can you get me underwear? and different pants?" amani sighed. sarah only then noticed the sweater tied around her waist, likely used to cover a stain.

"of course! your dads still in the room right?"

"yea, he'll let you in but..can you just not tell him?" amani said, her face reddening once again.

"oh, love, did you want to tell him yourself?" sarah questioned, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

amani shrugged in response. she had no plan whatsoever of telling him.

sarah sighed. "you know, you have to tell him eventually. it'll be worse if he finds out by himself, probably more embarrassing." she smiles.

amani shakes her head, "i'm scared." she admits, hiding her face in her hands.

sarah frowns, "scared? of what? he'll probably cry a little, but that's just cause his little girl is growing up."

amani laughed at that, imagining her dad in tears over her starting her period— a likely event.

"maybe he'll think it's gross— I don't know." she sighed. "im probably just overthinking it."

"you are. he won't find it gross, I promise. now, do you wanna tell him, or do you want me to?"

"you can tell him."

"she started her what?!" harry gasped, suddenly feeling uneasy on his feet.

sarah smacked his shoulder, putting her index finger to her lips, shushing him. "her period harry. menstruation? time of the month? flowers? quiet down if you don't want amani to be embarrassed when the whole hotel knows her business."

harry sighed, steadying himself as he took a seat.

"..why didn't she tell me first? is she alright?" harry frowned, his head gears turning faster than he could register. his daughter had started her period— but didn't go to him first. why? had he done something wrong?

sarah shook her head,"she's okay, calm down. it's just easier to talk about periods with people who've actually had them harry, it's not personal." she laughed, reassuring him, although she knew he'd still worry.

harry, who still had a deep frown on his face nodded.

he understands how awkward it would've been for her to tell him— but as a singe!parent, he feels shitty that she went to someone else, instead of her dad.

"okay.." harry sighed, wiping the tears that began to well up in his eyes. "i need to buy stuff right? what do i get?" he asked, already making a mental note of the stuff he knows gemma gets.

"pads, tampons, heating pad, ice-cream, and a little stuffed animal. 'always'and 'tampax' are really good brands. oh, and make sure you get different sizes for different levels of blood flow." sarah instructed.

harry nodded along, keeping everything she said in mind.

"I'm gonna go and get her clothes now." sarah said. "oh and harry?"

he perked up.

"she's okay. this is apart of her growing up. don't go haywire and coddle her."

that afternoon, after amani was all situated, she stayed with sarah and max for awhile, before heading back to her suite she shared with her dad, harry.

as soon as amani walked in, she was met with her dad, who's face lit up proudly.

harry walked over to her, but it seemed like he himself had just gotten back. he was carrying bags, unbeknownst to amani, full of period products.

"I got everything you need, love." he said, holding out the bag for her. she could see boxes full of everything and more that's she would need, as well as snacks that he didn't need to, but wanted to buy for her.

amani blushed, feeling embarrassed yet loved. she had never expected that her period would be such a big deal to harry, or that he would even know what to buy for her.

he'd always been a little, over the top some may say, but still her dad's reaction took her by surprise. he was smiling, looking at her with love and warmth in his eyes. he wasn't even upset with her that she didn't tell him first.

when he noticed how out of place she looked, he smiled softly.

"hey, it's okay, amani. you don't have to be embarrassed," he said, handing her the bag full of goodies, that he'd definitely not let her indulge in on a regular day, being the health nut dad he is. "it's normal. you're growing up and becoming a woman now. couldn't feel anymore more prouder."

amani felt her heart pounding in her chest. she had never thought he would be this understanding and supportive. but as she thought of it, why wouldn't he be? all her life, no matter what she decided to do, her dad was always there backing her up.

she realized, her fear of telling him was irrational.

"thank you dad." she whispered, taking the bag from him and hugging him tightly.

harry hugged her back, holding her close.

"you're my daughter and I'm always here for you. I'm proud of you," he said, as tears started to well up in his eyes.

amani wasn't surprised by his emotional reaction, more so, she surprised herself when she also began to cry. she couldn't help feeling happy and loved. in that moment, she realized that the bonds of parenthood are not only about love, but also about understanding and support.

she was grateful to have harry as her dad and sarah as another woman in her life who filled the missing role in her life, and she knew that they would always be there for her, no matter what.

thank you so much for reading! ☕️ 🤍

requests are always open!

-fic rec masterlist-

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smilesstyless · 2 years ago

Text

Missed you

Summary: Rosie is fuzzy all day and she wants to see her dad

Wordcount: +1,4k

Trigger warnings: mention of anxiety

Today is one of the usual days when she babysits Rosie, she sits with her on the couch. Rosie has been fussy all day, and Y/n can’t calm her down. She rests her head against the couch cushion. She can’t even call Harry, she can’t ask him what she should do.

“Rosie, come sit with me,” she pats the seat next to her. She refuses to sit down, she doesn't cry yet. She was happy about that.

“Daddy,” she mutters.

“What’s with daddy?” She picks her up and rests her on her hip.

“Miss him,” she hides her face into the crock of her neck.

“Wanna see daddy?” She nodded her head. Y/n knew he lives near the campus, he once told her if something happened.

Rosie walks next to y/n hand in hand. Her hair is in two little ponytails. On the way here she cried, y/n doesn’t know why she cried. It took them away longer to get here.

Y/n picks her up and slowly opens the door from his office. Rosie cocks her head in her dad’s direction. Harry looked exhausted, he leaned back into his chair, his glasses on the top of his head. On Rosie’s lips from a huge smile as she sees her dad.

“Daddy,” her voice is now high-pitched. Harry’s eyes open, he puts his glasses back on.

“Surprise,” y/n says.

“Hi Angel,” he smiles. Y/n let Rosie down and she walks over to her dad. Harry picks her up and places her in his lap. Harry takes one more look at her, “Did you cry?” He raises an eyebrow. Rosie nodded her head.

“Why are you two here?”

“She is fussy all day and she also missed you,” y/n sits down on the opposite of him and Rosie.

“I missed you too Angel,” he kisses the top of her head. “Did y/n make them?” Rosie nodded her head proudly.

“What are you doing right now?” Y/n looks at some of his papers. She was always curious, she always wanted to be a teacher but she couldn’t study because it was too expensive. Now she’s working in a bookstore and it also makes her happy.

“Waiting for Samantha and grading some papers,” Rosie leans her head against his stomach. Harry wraps his arm around her.

At this moment the door opens. Y/n stands up and sits down somewhere else in his room. Rosie is still in his lap, she hides herself in Harry’s stomach.

“Does it bother you when my daughter is here?” On his lips from an insecure smile. His students don't know he has a daughter. “She missed me that’s why she’s here, I’m sorry, I really am,” he apologizes for his daughter.

"No, not at all. She’s really cute, what's her name?” Samantha lies her papers on his desk so that he can explain it.

“That’s Rosie, she is shy when I’m around. Otherwise she would ask you anything, what's possible, right Angel?“ Rosie nodded her head.

Harry tries to explain to Samantha how the assignment works. He told her if she has trouble reading she should check YouTube. There are some helpful videos about the book. He also knows some of his students never read the book, they look for a summary on the Internet and write the assignment with that.

“Daddy,” Rosie whispers. Harry looks into his lap, he humps in response. “Wanna home, I’m tired,” she mutters. Y/n wanted to take her and she immediately started crying. She sits her back down onto Harry’s lap.

“Excuse me for a minute,” he says to Samantha, she nodded her head. “That is going on all afternoon, Rosie never acts like that. Sure she is fuzzy sometimes but that’s new,” Harry is going through his hair. He doesn't know why she is like that, he guesses she is tired and wants to stay in his lap.

“I know she’s usually the sweetest kind on the planet,” y/n shakes her head.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, are you Rosie’s mom?” Samantha is curious because she is the first person who knows Harry has a daughter.

“Mama agent,” she mumbles lazily. Samantha looks confused at Harry.

“Her mom is an agent, I’m taking care of her and y/n helps me with babysitting when I’m at work. Could you come tomorrow before class to me so I can explain it better. I was distracted and I really need to get home.”

“Yeah of course Mr Styles, see you tomorrow,” Samantha closed the door behind herself. He sits Rosie in his office chair down, so that he can pack his stuff together.

“You’re a little princess you know,” he smiles at her.

He has Rosie in his arms with his free hand and he has to lock his office. He walks down the hall, there is already whispering. He knows this would happen, it doesn’t bother him to be honest.

“Mr Styles is a dilf, it makes him even hotter taking care of his daughter. I would do everything for him,” a girl in the hall said.

“I’m sorry H, I didn’t know any better. She cried all day about you. Daycare called me and asked if I could pick her up,” Harry looks at Rosie for a short moment with her arms around his neck, she hides her face into the crock of his neck.

“Daycare called you?” Y/n nodded her head. “You didn’t tell me,” he says.

“You were busy so I thought I could tell you later,” she shrugs. It was a long day for y/n too, she tried to lie Rosie down for a nap, but that didn’t work. “I forgot to mention she didn’t nap today, she’s probably tired because she was awake all day,” Harry nodded his head.

“Mr Styles is such a dilf,” he knew this voice was one of students Aimee, she’s kinda obvious, she wants his attention, but she never gets his attention. Y/n and Rosie are his number one Priority.

“I’m really sorry,” she mumbles.

“It’s okay, I kinda figured that I’m the ‘hot’ single Professor, so don’t worry. Now they have something new to talk about,” he leans with his back against the door and opens it.

One of his students came over to him, she never really talked to him. She is the shy smart girl in his class. “I’m sorry to bother you, but is there an option that I don’t have to talk in class tomorrow? I am dealing with anxiety and I don’t know if I can talk,” she shutters. She pushes her glasses back on the bridge of her nose.

“Yeah of course. I didn’t know about your anxiety and I don’t want to make it worse. If you write every step you would do down and hand it to me I will grade it. Ask your roommate if they can help you with it.” He smiles at her. Harry never really Talks with her but he knows it must be hard for her to ask something like that, he also knows there are Professors who don't believe in the whole mental illness thing.

“Thank you so much and I’m also sorry about the comments you’ll get now,” she looks down at Rosie.

“It’s fine, see you tomorrow in class,” she waves him goodbye.

•••

“It was an exhausting day, “ y/n falls onto Harry’s couch. She shut her eyes and sighs.

“Let’s go to bed, I can see how tired you are,” he mumbles. Harry hands her one of his shirts. Get into his bathroom, she puts her jeans off and her sweater. She throws his shirt over her body and walks back into his bedroom. Harry also threw a shirt on, usually he sleeps without a shirt but today y/n is with him in his bed.

“I’ll go back onto the couch,” she mutters lazily.

“No, you can sleep here, my bed is huge,” she agreed. Harry wraps his arms around her body and holds her close to him. He has an unusual feeling in his stomach, everything tickles like butterflies. He could smell her. He loves the way she smells.

“Night H,” she mumbles into his duvet.

“Nights night y/n,” Harry can’t explain how happy he is that Rosie doesn’t wake up. He wants to be close to her right now. He hasn't felt that way about anyone in three years.

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harstyle · 11 months ago

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Harry Styles Masterlist

Hey there! I made a masterlist so it‘s easier for you to go back to my fics! Have fun reading!

multi-part oneshots

the styles' nanny

Y/N is a twenty-three year old uni student and Harry is a thirty-six year old single dad. Y/N is a part-time nanny and Harry is her employer. Y/N thinks Harry is hot, and Harry… well, he’s a bit confused. (finished!) Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry

part one

part two

oneshots

The Beginning of Something New

You and Harry Styles could not be more diametrically opposed -- so maybe that's the reason you've hated each other from the start. One conversation on a rooftop is all it takes for you to realize that you may have more in common than you've cared to admit.

... I think I love you

you definitely like Harry, and he may like you back, but your insecurities miiight be preventing you from ever finding out…

Pairing: normie!y/n + famous!harry

pretty

Your good friend Harry Styles might just be the hottest, most gentleman-liest guy you‘ve ever laid eyes on, so it really is a shame that you‘re not his type.

Pairing: uni-student!y/n + uni-student!harry

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles series #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fandom

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missluckycharms · 4 years ago

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What is grief, if not love persevering?

Anon asked: heyyy! i love your writing sm💕 can you write angst please? make it hurt☹

Masterlist.

Summary: in which Harry is a single Dad due to losing his wife five years ago just shortly after their little love was born. Y/N has been there through it all. Harry has a rough night filled with whiskey and tears for his late wife.

A/N: this one is full of Angst and light hearted jokes to not get you too sad … sorry in advance, it’s a real tear jerker. Enjoy!!

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, talks of alcohol and drug abuse, talks of depression and very low mental health, curse words.

—

Five years.

It’s been five years since the passing of Myla Styles, the woman who granted Harry a wish he always wanted, the woman who loved him beyond all the galaxies and the woman who never saw any wrong in anyone, not even the worst of people, she always used to say “deep down, their heart is just aching” and Harry always admired that about her, she always looked on the positive side of life.

She held that same attitude as he held her hand in the hospital room, her fragile and pale body laying on the white bed as she peered up at him, oxygen tube in her nostrils and too many machines to count hooked up to her body, she was a shell of a woman, but she still had a heart of gold, the same hear Harry fell in love with when they were sixteen years of age. He hated seeing her this way, especially when their nearly one week old baby was resting in his other arm, fast asleep as her Mum clung to every bit of life she had left, but not once did her smile fade.

It all happened so fast, one day she was pushing life into the world and eight days later her life was being taken out of this world. There was complications with birth, the doctors and nurses finding undiagnosed ovarian cancer in her ovaries when they had to send her in for an emergency c section. Myla confessed she felt off, her body didn’t feel right, but she knew if something was seriously wrong, she wouldn’t risk the life of her baby getting treatment, she would rather her baby live over her. Doctors and nurses tried their best, trying to refer her to new hospitals to get stronger chemo if she wanted, but Myla refused, she told them to let her go, she was tired and she couldn’t stick around long enough to see if these treatments would work — she knew she was dying but Harry refused to believe it.

The day she left, was the day Harry felt like his whole world stopped, like the curtains were shut and he was left in a dark room with no way out. He promised Myla he would do his best to take care of their love, who they named Honey. He was dealing with the loss, Honey taking his mind off it a little and giving him reasons to pull himself from bed even on the days when he wanted to lay around and wallow in his own darkness — she pulled him out of those days, but two months later it all came crashing down on top of him.

He slipped into a wrong mind set, immediately knowing that Honey had to be taken away from him because he was living in fear he would hurt her, one day he woke up and he looked at her and just cried, he held her and he felt nothing, he didn’t even sympathise with her when she would cry for food, he felt nothing towards Honey and this scared him, terribly. Anne, his Mum took Honey in, letting Harry to relax and blow off some steam and get some help, his and Myla’s family all agreeing and saying he needed help and it wasn’t something to be ashamed about — he just lost his wife, they can’t lose him either.

Harry took the wrong route of clearing his mind and getting help, he found his therapy at the end of a bottle and a line of cocaine. He slipped into an endless spiral of week long benders and debts for drug money along with risking losing his home due to him quitting his high up job at his Fathers Law firm, he completely crashed and burned, he couldn’t live without her, he couldn’t stop his mind racing and the only way for it all to stop, and let him feel numb — was when he was drunk and high, passing out in every room of his home and in his garden, the neighbours finding him sometimes in their yard in a mess. They were the ones who got him help, they called up his family and they all rushed him off in an ambulance to get him sober and conscious again. Here is where he made the decision to sign himself into rehab, accepting the help the hospital offered and a few months later, he was out and clean, he stayed with his Mum until Honey turned one and that was the year Harry found his smile again, found his life and purpose again.

Looking back now, he doesn’t know how he ever made himself believe it was Honeys fault Myla was no longer here, he doesn’t know how he’s even alive because of all the drugs and alcohol he ingested every single night for three months solid, but he knows why everything turned around, it was his Angel looking down on him, guiding him and kicking him in the ass to get up and look after their little love, just like she asked him to do before she left, always look after himself and Honey.

It’s been five years since her passing, Harry is doing better than ever, he started working for his Dad’s company again and now he’s the president of the law firm, alongside his Dad who is the CEO, Harry being second in command and then being the CEO when his Dad retires from the firm. They kept their family home, even if it was just the two of them, they loved the home and it still felt like Myla was living here, her makeup still tucked away in her unused vanity in Harrys bedroom and her favourite paintings still hung up around the home. Harry even hired a nanny, she has been working for him for two years now, she’s even working alongside Harry in his office being his receptionist during the day and she’s Honeys afternoon and night nanny when she’s done in work and Honey is home from school.

Y/N is Honeys nanny, she takes care of the little lady and feeds her daily, even taking her to the playground and to the movies when Honey asked her could she go. She would do anything for Honey and Honey loved her endlessly, she loved the way she would allow her to eat sneaky chocolate bars after dinner every now and then and how she would always play dollies with her, kneeling down on the floor of the den and playing with the small girl until they were both in fits of laughter. Harry also adored Y/N, her passion for her job at the law firm along with her passion for looking after Honey is something he admires, she never once complains about being exhausted even though he can tell when she is, she didn’t have to think twice when Harry offered her the job as Honeys nanny, she knew the little one from her being in the office every now and then, and Honey was instantly drawn to her, the way she was so kind and the way she cared for Honey.

Tonight is a hard night for Harry, it’s Myla’s death anniversary and he’s been having a bad day, his mind racing and his heart breaking all over again, but this time he’s stronger, he’s able to power through until he could be alone and just let his emotions go, have a glass of whiskey and just cry a little flipping through old photo albums — he does this every year on her anniversary. Honey is tucked up in bed and he’s sat alone in the den on the sofa, the photo albums on his lap and his hand clutching a small glass of whiskey as he sips on it flipping through many photos from their wedding and from when they were teens and drunk in love in high school — so many memories can be attached to one person, and Harry knew one day they would be memories, but he didn’t know it would be so soon.

“Honey is fast asleep, left her door cracked open so she can shout if she- Harry? Are you okay?” Y/N stops suddenly, her eyes landing on her boss who was hunched over a photo album on the sofa, curtains drawn and the only light coming from a lamp beside a framed wedding photo of him and Myla on the table by the sofa.

“Yeah, thanks for putting her to sleep” Harry says weakly, not turning around which alarms Y/N, she’s seen him like this last year, she let him be as she was only new to it, but this year she’s determined to sit with him all night if he needs — he needs to have some company.

“That’s you?” She asks sitting next to him, Harry not moving or telling her to leave, he accepts her company as she looks down at the photo his eyes are laid upon — two teenagers at a party.

“Yeah, m’hair was a curly mess” he says with a low laugh, looking over the photo of a seventeen year old version of himself, smiling cheekily clutching a red solo cup and Myla wrapped under his other arm holding him around his waist, both their smiles wide and cheeky and their cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol in their bodies.

“I think it looks cute, pitty it’s not as curly now” she says with a light laugh, watching as his ring clad fingers turn the page, taking a sip from his whiskey as he goes.

“This was our prom, she made me wear a pink fucking bow tie — absolutely hated it” he laughs, the crinkles by his eyes evident as Y/N laughs along, looking down at the curly headed teenager in a black suit, white shirt and a bright pink bow tie, matching Myla’s floor length dress next to him, a shawl over her shoulders matching as the corsage around her wrist match the pink of her dress also.

“She hated that dress a year later, she was packing up for college and I was helping her when she found it, immediately burst out laughing” he says laughing loudly, remembering back at the memory he has, Y/N beside him happy at how joyful he sounds speaking of the memories.

“Oh here we go, Frat boy Harry!” Y/N says with a loud laugh, pointing down at a shirtless twenty year old Harry, backwards cap on his head and “Myla’s Bitch!” Wrote on his stomach in paint, two beer bottles in his hands and Myla on his shoulders cheering with her hands up in a red bikini, matching his swimming trunks and baseball cap.

“Some of the best years of m’life, raging parties and no more curfews, we were two hormonal teens absolutely smitten for one another” he says shaking his head with a laugh, his eyes bright as he flicks them over the photos ranging from Harry dancing, Myla being pushed into the pool by him and Harry passed out with a mustache drawn on him with Myla next to him holding the marker with a bright smile mid laughter.

The book is filled with their college days, to their graduation day from college, their photo in their first apartment, Harry on his first day of work and Myla on hers. They took photos of small things, but at the time they meant the world to them, they were milestones in their lives and they never wanted to forget them. Harry is forever grateful that Myla had an obsession with photography, otherwise he wouldn’t have these to look back on and hopefully show Honey one day what her Mum was like, even if she’s drunk and half naked in some of them at college parties.

Harry and Y/N are in fits of laughter, tears falling from their faces as Harry explains every single memory behind each photo, one photo containing a memory of Myla at her bachelorette party, Harry coming out as a stripper and giving her a lap dance as she slaps his ass and throws money all over her husband — that one will definitely not be shown to Honey. Harry is like a whole different person when he speaks about her, his laugh becomes louder and his eyes become brighter, he even ditched his whiskey after one glass to speak about his late wife, Y/N looking at him with pure amazement and proudness of how far he’s come, how he pulled himself from a hard time and carried on life for the sake of his baby girl. He’s truly inspirational in her eyes.

“It should be easier than this by now, right? Like I shouldn’t be still grieving” he says when their laughs and stories come to a stop, their eyes hooded with sleep and faces hurting from laughing.

“What is grief, if not love persevering? You were both childhood sweethearts, you’ve loved her since you can remember and you always will, she’s your whole world, of course you’ll still grieve her, you still love her, and that’s okay” Y/N blurts out, her words quick as she blabs on while Harry watches her, a smile on his face as she explains and accepts his feelings.

“Never knew you were Shakespeare” is all he says, she rolls her eyes laughing, slapping his bicep a little as he shuts the album, tucking it away in the drawer again before turning his focus back onto Y/N beside him.

“Seriously though, never tell yourself you’ve been grieving for too long, it’s okay to grieve and cry yourself to sleep some nights, I get that, I do. You lost a person who made you who you are, but don’t forget, you still have a little one that will need you to be the person who makes her who she is”

Harry thinks she’s amazing, she’s smart and she’s so empathetic towards everyone and anyone. She has a heart of gold and she will never let anyone explain hers or anyone else’s feelings for them, she always allows people to express who they are, heck, one night she brought Harry to a gym after hours, explaining how her brother is a trainer there and he gave her the keys on the condition that she does his laundry for a month, she let Harry rage out and punch the shit out of a punching bag one night because he was so upset. She cheered him on and he was smiling as he was punching towards the end, she helped him release the emotions that built up and would of lead him back down a dark path.

She’s been an Angel sent from above, he knows Myla sent her to him because of how much they’re alike, Harry knows for sure they were sisters in a past life, their kind hearts and understanding natures alike but they have their differences, Myla was very out spoken and loved to party but Y/N is reserved and would rather stay inside with a hot chocolate and her crosswords while watching TV, but that’s another thing that Harry finds fascinating about her, she’s younger than him by eight years, when he was her age he was partying.

“Thank you Y/N, I needed this tonight” he says with a smile, her own smile on her face as she nods leaning over to rub her hand over his in a comforting manner, the pair looking at one another as they soak in their presences.

“It’s getting late, I should go” she says realising it’s nearly midnight, Harry and her need to be in work tomorrow morning and Harry has to wake up to get his little lady ready for school also. He gets a bit saddened when she says this, he secretly wants to hear more of her own college years and her own prom much like he told her earlier.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow” he says with a smile, watching as she gathers up her bag and throws it over her shoulder, car keys now in her hand as she smiles at him once more before heading for the den door. She pauses and looks back at him, his eyes meeting hers as they hold contact for a few seconds before she speaks up.

“See you tomorrow, Harry”

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