Dad!harry - Tumblr Posts

Harry bubs running around but naked and Harry saying “put some clothes on we are not nudists” and you just stand there because you no this is all Harry’s genes😂😂

Word Count: 1k

Author’s Note: Okay but I love the idea of Harry’s bubby being a little sun baby that loves playing outside and swimming and being utterly obsessed with the warmth that summer brings!! This also has big quarantine vibes to me; just everyone going mad with boredom and doing off the wall shit that’s deliriously comical.

Bubby has asked to swim in the pool nearly everyday since you’d been sentenced to unofficial house arrest, waking Harry up at the ungodly break of morning to beg his dad to put his arm floaties on so that he can jump in and splash around. Harry doesn’t mind though as he’s made it quite that he loves feeling the sun on his face as much as possible these days. Plus, there isn’t much else to do anyway. You two sit out on the patio with bubs while he swims — you on a lilo trying to get a tan and Harry in one of the loungers reading a book. Occasionally, you or Harry toss the a beach ball back and forth to your bubs to keep him entertained, but he mostly enjoys keeping to himself and playing his own make-believe water games.

You think bub’s gotten out of the pool to waddle over in his dripping wet swim diaper (no sense in dirtying a swimsuit when it’s just the three of you) to grab a sip of juice from his cup, so you didn’t worry when the sounds of splashing water that filled backyard had suddenly come to a halt. Harry on the other hand, had actually seen bub trot over to the patio table for his sippy cup, so his eyes averted back to his book without another thought. It was when neither you or Harry never heard his tiny, albeit still pudgy body hurl back into the pool in cannonball position (his newest skill, thanks to Harry) that both of your heads turned at the same time to try and location where he must have gone.

On the opposite end of the pool is a sight that sends both of you in hysterics. Bub’s floaties and diaper are folded over and pool water is oozing from the padding in a puddle, discarded in a pile near the patio table where his juice was. The ground marks a clear wet trail of small feet that leads to your bub, who is naked and lying on his tummy and as it appears, nearly conked out with his arms folded into a makeshift pillow.

“Oi! What are ye’ doin over there? I can see ye’ bum!” called Harry, nearly double over in laughter.

Your bub just turns his head away from Harry, clearly not interested in anything his dad is saying and more into basking in the feeling on the rays beating down on his sunblock-slathered back and the sun-baked pavement warming his belly.

You shush Harry quickly.

“Leave him he, Har. He’s not hurting anything,” you try to reason with him.

“‘Cept his willie! How is tha’ not uncomfortable t’ him? He’s butt arse naked on the concrete,” Harry asks, or more so exclaims.

All you can do is continue to chuckle lightly as you wade over to the edge of the pool where your son is lying. You reach your hand over the ledge of the pool to run your hands through his unruly chocolate curls, only lulling him further and further into a nice afternoon nap.

“M’ sleepy baby,’ you whisper as your fingers wrap further around his clearly inherited locks.

“Christ,” Harry mumbles, resting his head in his palms that are held up by his elbows digging into his bare thighs.

“What?” you asked, still in hushed tones as to not disturb the nearly sleeping boy beside you.

“I did this t’ him didn’t I? Wi’ me walkin’ round naked all of the time? Taught him ‘s okay not to wear clothes.”

“Oh, most certainly,” the confirmation falling from your lips as natural as breathing.

“We’ve raised a nudist,” Harry sighs, admitting his defeat.

“We!?” you scoff, almost offended, “That’s all you, babes.”

Harry panders over to where your son is lying and where you’re resting your upper half out of the pool, abandoning his book and comfy chair to be with his family. When he’s bent down to run circles into his baby’s bare back as he snoozed away with his bum cheeks out for the world (but really just you two) to see and feels just how warm and enticing the pavement actually is, he realized his son might be on to something.

He stands up abruptly, slinging his loose button up shirt (which was ironically buttoned all of the way down to his navel) down his shoulders and ridding himself of the bright yellow swim shorts he’d put on earlier that morning. The stark tan line left by his shorts from wearing the same pair nearly every day makes you want to burst out laughing again, though you’re distracted by the fact that he’s literally now naked in your backyard, balls out and proud. Thank god for your penchant for gardening and the tall shrubbery that guards your fense and keeps away prying eyes.

He ignores your qualms of, “What the fuck are you doing?” with a flick of his wrist.

“Bubby’s got the right idea. Think ‘m gonna have a nap right here too. Pavement’s so warm,” he declares before plopping down on his belly in a similar fashion to his son and relaxing into the slab.

“Are you kidding me? Did you not just clearly express your worries that your son is a nudist?”

“Ehh, we’ve got time t’ break him out of it. Not goin’ anywhere any time soon. Plus, it’s not as uncomfortable as I thought. Y’ should join us, lovie. N’ lemme see the goods,” he finishes with a wiggle of his brow.

You dismiss him with a gentle shove to his shoulder that’s littered with jet black and charcoal colored ink.

“Well it’s quite clear who he got his bum from,” you mumble before rolling your eyes and hiking your legs back onto your lilo to go back to your tanning regime.

Meant To Be - Harry Styles

i am a WHORE for singledad!harry 🤩 3k

Just like nearly all of the other boys in the band, Harry fell right in line and became a father shortly after the release of his first album. He couldn’t have been more excited, being a dad has always been something he craved. The only thing he would change would be the fact that he wished it happened out of love, rather than a one night stand with a woman who would give up full custody only eight days after their son was born.

She was young, not ready for motherhood and definitely not ready to deal with being the mother of Harry Styles’ child, and that Harry couldn’t blame her for that. Even though he would never understand how anyone could leave a part of themselves. How someone could give up their own child.

So for a while Harry took a break from the public and raised his son. His fans were understanding of the break, just waiting for the day he would come back to them. He was alone, but never really. He always had the help of Anne and Gemma, not to mention all of the close friends who wanted to steal away little Sawyer who was truly a mini Harry. A mess of loose brown curls that were impossible to tame.

Sawyer was nearly three when Y/n came into their lives. She was soft and warm, and both boys were quick to fall. Anne introduced them, she had come across Y/n at her grocery store.

“Harry, you just have to meet her.” Anne gushed, following Harry around her living room as he picks up toys that had been littered throughout her house.

“Mum, I don’t think I need you setting me up. I’m not looking for anything right now.” Harry tried explaining, he was tired about his mother talking about this woman that she had encountered and befriended.

“You guys are meant to be!”

“Mum-”

“Trust me on this one, when I met her I just had this gut feeling.”

“What d’ya mean?” Harry asks, finally pausing to look at her.

“Like she’s going to be family one day.”

Harry didn’t have time for dating, not while raising his son and still finding time to write music. He would love to share his life with someone other than Sawyer, but he didn’t need it.

He wasn’t surprised even slightly when he came down for breakfast with Sawyer tucked on his hip to find out that Y/n would be joining them for lunch. His mother wouldn’t miss the opportunity of him staying with her. She was taking advantage of Harry making a week-long trip north to visit.

Lunch came fast and Sawyer was just getting up from his nap when Y/n knocked on the door.

“Y/n! C’mon in!” Anne ushered her straight through the front door.

“Your home is lovely.”

Harry heard her voice before he caught a glimpse and it would be a lie to say that his heart didn’t skip a beat when he rounded the corner and saw her for the first time.

She was talking enthusiastically with Anne that had something to do with the paint in the entryway. His mother had mentioned something about her being an interior designer. He didn’t even have to exchange words with the girl to know what his mom was talking about. He had the same feeling that she had, this girl was different.

“Hi!” His typically shy boy says loudly, revealing to both of the women that he was standing there.

Y/n turns to face them, a warm grin already gracing her face.

“And you must be Sawyer.”

Sawyer nods, turning back to his shy roots. He ducks his head back against Harry’s neck to hide away a little.

“Hi, I’m Y/n.” She greets, introducing herself to both of them now.

“It’s lovely to meet you.” Harry smiles.

“Likewise.”

After that they moved onto lunch in Anne’s garden. The conversation was overflowing, Harry had never felt to at ease talking with someone, especially not after having Sawyer.

Anne was all too proud to say ‘I told you so’ to Harry as soon as she shut the door behind Y/n. It was impossible to miss the connection they shared, and if that wasn’t enough she caught them exchanging phone numbers towards the end of their day.

They moved quickly after that, texting, calling, and facetiming as often as they could which lead to dates. Only a month after meeting each other Harry asked her to be his girlfriend. She was happy to say yes, and just thankful to be exclusive with the boy who had taken over her heart and mind the past few weeks.

So for months they dated, things going better than any other relationship they had ever been in. Harry loved her for everything that made her Y/n. For the way she treated Sawyer and respected their relationship.

It was only seven months into their relationship when Harry decided that he was going to  propose, he wanted Y/n to be his wife as soon as possible. He knew after the third date that he wanted to keep her around, but it was a cold day in London when he knew for sure that she would forever be family to himself and Sawyer.

Sawyer was on day two of his cold, he finally had medication but he was still having trouble with his cough and couldn’t always breath. Harry was worried, but he had been through the flu and colds with Sawyer before. Y/n hadn’t and she had been more than attentive at the doctor’s office. Harry couldn’t help, but smile over her concern and her many many questions.

She settled once they got home and meds that could help.

“I hate feeling helpless like this.” Y/n mutters as she takes the kettle off so that both her and Harry could have some tea.

“You’re not helpless, love.” Harry reassures, “Kids get sick.”

“I know.” She sighs.

She lets out a yawn as she brings over a mug to Harry at the counter. Harry presses a kiss to her temple as a thank you. They were both tired, checking in on Sawyer last night a little, making sure that he was still breathing. Y/n spent the night, like she always does. Rarely does she leave the Styles home these days.

Y/n whips up some dinner for them, earlier than they would normally, but they all need their sleep. After they’ve all filled their bellies with a sufficient amount of pasta Harry gives Sawyer a bath while Y/n cleans up their dishes.

“Daddy, I want Y/n to pick out my pajamas.”

Harry pauses drying off his son, pleasantly surprised by his request. Sawyer likes Y/n, more than most, but the bond that the father and son had was tough to ever beat. Anything that he could get from his father, that’s the way he wanted it.

“Y/n, you’re being requested.” Harry yells just loud enough for her to hear downstairs.

“What can I do for my boys.” She leans against the doorway to the bathroom, a smile on her face.

Harry gives his boy a nudge to ask her himself.

“Will you pick out my pajamas tonight?”

“I would love to.” Y/n grins, “Lets go little man.”

Harry watches from the floor as they take off together for Sawyer’s room. He listens to them talk softly in the next room for a while before he drains the tub and puts away all of the toys. Once he’s cleaned up a bit he comes in to see Sawyer tucked in his bed, Y/n sitting on the edge. She’s just given him his night medication to help him sleep.

“Goodnight, Soy.” She presses a kiss to his forehead, Sawyer smiling at his nickname.

She gets up from the bed and notices Harry watching them from the doorway. She pats him on the shoulder as she walks out, giving them space to talk a little and say goodnight to each other. By the time Harry comes back to their room Y/n is sitting up against the headboard, rubbing in a lotion over her arms.

“Is he out?” She asks, looking up.

“Yeah, I think that medicine knocked him out. I just hope he can sleep through the night tonight.” Harry sighs, he lets himself fall on the bed. Y/n reaches out a hand to lightly rub his back. They stay like that for a few minutes until Harry gets up to turn off the lights and take off his clothes to sleep. The pair fall asleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

It’s a few hours later when Harry can hear a soft voice, it’s enough to pull him out of his deep sleep and open his eyes. The door to his bedroom is open and the light is on in the hall.

“Daddy.” Sawyer whispers, grabbing his attention, Harry looks down to see his son standing at the edge of his bed.

“Hey, what’re you doing up?” Harry sits up, wiping at his eyes.

“My throat hurts.” Sawyer barks out a few coughs.

“Alright, let’s get you some more medicine.” Harry checks the time to make sure he can give him another dose before grabbing it off of his night stand.

“Can I lay with Y/n?” Sawyer asks after having taken his medicine and drinking some more water. His request shocks Harry, but he couldn’t blame the boy for wanting to crawl right in bed with them while feeling ill.

“She’s asleep right now, could you settle for me?”

Slowly tears start to fill Sawyer’s eyes. Not that he doesn’t have love for his father, but with feeling sick all he wants is to be in her arms. No one could tell you why, but something about being in Y/n’s arms had a powerful calm to them.  

Harry looks over to see his girlfriend sleeping peacefully next to him. Sawyer simply raises his arms to be lifted into the bed which Harry obliges. Sawyer crawls over Harry’s lap and lads on the edge of Y/n’s hair making Harry wince.

“Y/n.” Sawyer whispers loudly.

She stirs and turns over to face them, surprised to be face to face with the little three year old rather than her own boyfriend.

“Hi lovey, how’re you feeling?” She asks, walking up a little more with each second so she can look at the teary eyed boy. He looks exhausted and it breaks Y/n’s heart.

“Hold me?” Sawyer asks simply.

Y/n lifts up the covers and opens her arms for him. She doesn’t even flinch as he openly coughs into her neck where he settles his head. Y/n lays on her back and wraps her arms around the boy, pulling the covers back up over them.

She rubs her hand up and down his small back, finally looking over to see Harry watching them.

“Did you give him some more meds?” Y/n asks softly, Harry nods and settles back in a little. It looks like this is how they’re staying for the night.

Every once in a while Sawyer coughs to break the silence in the room, Y/n never stops slowly rubbing his back. Or pushing the curls off of his forehead to press a soft kiss. She’s kicked off their blanket, growing too hot under all the close contact but never wavering in holding his son. Harry’s heart is nearly bursting at the seams at the sight.

“Marry me.” Harry’s voice a whisper soft enough just for him and Y/n to hear. He had been thinking about it all night, not to mention the weeks or months that he’s known her. Tonight has only confirmed what he already knew. Y/n looks over at him, noticing that he hasn’t changed positions and stays on his side to watch over his two favorite people.

“We don’t even live together.” She laughs, not taking his words for more than anything other than a lack of sleep.

“You take up over half of my closet now, love. You check back in on your apartment once a month practically to restock. Sawyer thinks you live here.” Harry looks down at his boy who he knows for a fact, if tonight has proven anything, it’s that he wants Y/n to be just as much a part of his life as Harry.

“Are you crazy?” Y/n turns to fully look at him now, taking in how serious he is being. It’s only been a few months, he can’t be serious.

“Y/n I could’ve proposed the moment you walked through my mother’s front door. I knew then and she knew before we even met.” Harry reaches out to tuck a strand back off her forehead behind her ear, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, even once you take it back in the morning once you’re no longer suffering from sleep deprivation.” She teases, still running her hand over Sawyer‘s back.

“Stay right there.” Harry throws off the covers, careful to not wake up Sawyer.

Y/n’s eyes follow him as he walks over to his dresser and digs around in the drawer closest to the bottom. She’s beyond confused until he lets out a soft cheer and comes back to the bed. A small black velvet box in hand.

Now Y/n realizes how very serious he is being. She didn’t think Harry would throw marriage around lightly, but they haven’t been together long. She would be lying if she didn’t say that she pictured the rest of her life with these boys.

A little black box which she’s ninety percent sure doesn’t contain earrings.

“I bought this with my Mum after our third real date. Before I even asked you to be my girl technically, I was afraid to jump the gun. So instead I made an investment, I didn’t know when, but I knew someday you would get this ring. I knew it then as much as I know it now that we are meant to be.”

He pauses to clear his throat, “Y/n let me ask one more time, will you marry me?”

“Yes.” She sighs happily, Harry kneels on the bed, crawling back over to her. She finally pulls her hand away from Sawyer so he could slide the ring on.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” She shifts a little more so her and Sawyer are a little more tucked into Harry’s side. All three of them cuddled up together.

“S’pretty.” She holds out her hand, looking at it shine in the moonlight.

“Picked it just for you.”

Slowly after that they all manage to drift off to sleep once again. Harry couldn’t wipe the grin off his face even if he wanted to. They manage to sleep in until late morning, finally Sawyer ends up stepping on Harry, successfully waking him up.

“I want breakfast.” Sawyer says.

“Alright let’s go.” He pulls him off the bed and they make their way down to the kitchen. Harry has managed to make pancakes, eggs, and fresh orange juice by the time Y/n makes it downstairs.

“You want to take this back?” She holds up her hand to show off the large ring that now adorns it.

“Not even slightly, do you?” He looks back to her across the kitchen island.

She shakes her head, a wide smile now gracing her face. She walks over and presses a long kiss against his lips. She had been afraid that it was all a dream. It couldn’t be real that she could be this lucky to be asked into such a blessing of a family.

“Y/n!” Sawyer yells loudly from his chair at the table, “Guess what?”

“What?” She asks back with just as much enthusiasm, breaking away from her little bubble of Harry.

“You have healing hands!” He grins showing off his teeth.

“I do?” She walks over to sit beside him.

“Yeah, I don’t even feel sick anymore! Isn’t that right, Dad?”

“I think it is, buddy.” Harry smiles, bringing over a plate to Y/n.

“Really? And we’re sure that the medicine didn’t have anything to do with it?” She looks around at the boys. Giving Harry a smirk.

“NO!” Sawyer quickly shuts down, “I didn’t feel better until I came to sleep with you guys.”

“Ahh, healing hands it is then.” Y/n presses a kiss to the top of his head as she gets up to trade in her orange juice for some coffee.

Anne and Gemma let themselves in, eager to check in on their favorite grandson/nephew and see how he’s doing.

“Good morning!” All heads snap in the direction to see who’s arrived.

“Grandma!” Sawyer gets off his chair to race over to them, “Auntie Gem!”

“How are you feeling, love?” Anne asks, kneeling down to his height.

“I’m all better!” He cheers, causing everyone to laugh at his enthusiasm.

“You’re all better?” Gemma asks, stealing a hug from the boy.

“Yeah, and guess what! Y/n has healing hands!” He answers before giving anyone the chance to answer, not that ‘healing hands’ would’ve been at the top of the list.

“Does she now?” Anne asks, walking over to the table to join us.

“Yeah, you have to feel them!” Sawyer insists, “She gives the best hugs too.”

“Oi, what about my hugs?” Harry interrupts, grabbing his son to tickle his sides. Laughter filling the entire room.

“I think I need one of those hugs.” Anne laughs.

Y/n happily gets up from her spot to pull Anne in for a hug. She could hug this woman forever, being a second mom to her truly and the sole reason she met the love of her life.

“I think I know what you mean, Sawyer. She’s got some magic in her.”

“Let me see those healing hands.” Gemma teases, coming over.

I roll my eyes before holding out my hands for her. Gemma just as easily becoming a hugely important part of Y/n’s life.

“Holy shit.” She mutters, taking Y/n’s left hand in hers.

“Language, Gemma.” Anne says, reminding her off the impressionable three year old two feet away. “I swear sometimes you forget who you’re with-”

“When did you two get engaged?”

I always imagine Daddy H sitting behind Y/N and holding her tight when she gives birth; at one point he sees her struggling towards the end and senses something is wrong and literally helps the baby out because his shoulder was stuck or whatever and quickly takes the baby and puts it on her chest (kourtney kardash literally dragged her own baby out 😭) while wrapping his arms from behind even tighter around her

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: childbirth

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for sending in this ask, I absolutely love it! My apologies if it’s totally off in terms of how actual child birth is as it was not my intention. I live for sweet little intimate blips in people’s lives, and I think this ask was a perfect one for me! As always, let me know what you think and what you want to see next. Take care and TPWK.

Harry loved the idea of a home birth. He loved the thought of welcoming his firstborn within the confines of his own warm walls. There’d be no paparazzi, no cameras desperate to sneak a peek at the three of them for click bait, no privacy violations. With a home birth, they were free to do as they pleased, to act as they pleased, to love as they pleased. It’s what Harry wanted in terms of how his first child should be brought into this world, kicking their red little legs and screaming with all of the might that their little lungs could give. It’s what they wanted

But this is not what Harry meant by a home birth.

Y/N had experienced tons of false contractions throughout her pregnancy, and only being in her eighth month with no complications whatsoever, she had believed that the ones she’d been having for the past several hours were nothing but that. False contractions. But she couldn’t have been more wrong. She was, in fact, in actual labor and had been for hours now without realizing, which had brought her to where she was right now: naked, screaming, and crying in her own bathtub with just enough water to cover her waist with Harry’s arms wrapped tightly around her as she mustered all of her rapidly declining strength that she could to push her tiny human out of her.

“Harry,” the voice on the other end of the phone that was perched on the lip of the tub spoke calmly, “How is she doing?”

“Not really sure how t’ answer that.” He responded through gritted teeth.

Their doula, the woman hired to coach the two of them through her pregnancy and then through childbirth was currently stuck in traffic over half of an hour away from the Styles residence, hence why she was currently giving them remote instructions on how to properly birth a child. The doula had insisted that Y/N refrain from pushing until the very last second to mitigate any complications that would occur without her presence, but baby Styles had other plans. Judging from what the doula would make out over Y/N’s screaming and Harry’s horrible attempts at explaining to her what was happening, she guessed the baby would be making it’s arrival any second now.

“Listen, if you’re in distress, you two need to just call for a lift to the hospital. I’m about twenty minutes away but if you don’t think you can handle it, then please take Y/N to a doctor.”

“I can’t get up,” Y/N cried, squeezing Harry’s biceps as hard as she possibly could when another contraction ripped through her abdomen.

Her hair was soaked with sweat and she felt like her chest and body were on fire. She had imagined for nine whole months about what it would feel like to birth hers and Harry’s child, but none of what she’d conjured up compared to the agony she was in right now. Even though she’d only been in the tub that Harry frantically ran for her via the doula’s instructions for 45 minutes, it might has well have been hours. The only thing that had been keeping her body from giving out completely on her was knowing that in the aftermath of all this pain, she’d be left with the beautiful baby that her and Harry had been growing in her tummy all this time. 

“‘ts ok, Y/N. We’re gonna be fine,” Harry brushed her matted hair off of her neck with his hand that was wet from the bathtub water where he had been holding her legs open. 

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it to a hospital,” he called out sternly to the phone.

He was trying his hardest not to panic for Y/N’s sake, but his voice still shook and his body still vibrated with anxiety every time their doula gave him another instruction or Y/N’s condition changed.

“Alright,” the doula answered, “I need you to check on Y/N for me and tell me if you can see the baby’s head crowning.”

As he got up to check on the progress of the baby from where he was sat behind her, she squeezed him once more, begging him not to move.

“Please don’t leave me, Harry.”

Harry felt his heart twinge at her words, though he knew what she really meant. He knew for a fact that he’d have bruises on his arms in the shape of Y/N’s fingers, but he also knew that no matter how he was feeling or what his condition as a pending father was, it didn’t come close to how Y/N was feeling. She was pushing a 6 pound (according to their last checkup) human out of her vagina with no medication and hardly any warning whatsoever. His bruises weren’t shit compared to the excrutiating state he knew she was in.

“‘M not goin’ anywhere, love. Just gotta check on the baby.”

When he leaned over briefly to get a good look at what laid between Y/N’s legs, his eyes widened enough to concern Y/N.

“What? Harry, what?!” she yelled through her teeth when he took longer than half of a second to reply.

“I can see the head,” Harry spoke loudly so that both Y/N and their doula could hear.

The corners of his mouth turned up just slightly at his first ever glance at what would be his firstborn. 

“That’s good. Harry?” the doula asked.

“Ye’?”

“I need you to sit at her feet and get ready to catch the baby when it comes out. Do you think you can do that?”

“‘f course,” Harry answered, though it made his palms twice sweaty upon realizing that he was actually going to have to birth this child on his own because it was clear now that their doula would not be making it on time to help him.

Y/N interrupted with another wrenching sob as she felt the urge to push once more with all of her might. This time, Harry actually saw the baby move further out of her and it stunned him.

“Did the baby move?” 

“Ye’. Head’s almost all of the way out,” Harry answered the woman’s question again.

“That’s great. You’re doing great. Y/N. You’re almost done. Once the head is out, it’s pretty much smooth sailing from there,” she reassured her as best as she could whilst nearly running red lights to get to their house.

Y/N nodded (as if the doula would have been able to see) as she readjusted herself in the tub now that Harry wasn’t behind her anymore. Her brows were permanently furrowed together and her chest would not stop heaving strained, troubled breaths, but Harry couldn’t have thought that she looked more beautiful. Clearly, he knew she was not feeling her best and is probably dead set on never letting Harry put his dick inside of her again if it leads to all of this, but it didn’t stop Harry from falling more in love with her right now than he ever had before.

Harry leaned over her swollen and stressed body to get closer to her face.

“You can do this, Y/N,” he muttered so that only she could hear, “Just give me a few more good pushes and they’ll be here. Then we’ll have our baby, yeah?”

She nodded through her tears, her hands moving to rest in his hair as he did the same to her.

“You’ve got t’ breathe for me. Deep breath in,” Harry followed along with her, filling his lungs with the muggy bathroom air as she did the same.

“Deep breath out,” he coached her through her breaths in the way that he learned in the one parenting class they tried out before ditching it entirely, having decided it was all just a way to scam people out of their money. 

Good thing he at least gave the class half of his attention so he was able to recall that much. 

“I love you,” Harry told Y/N as he pressed hip lips against her forehead before returning to his position in front of her open legs.

“I love you, too,” she squeezed Harry’s hands in response.

Something came over Harry in the following moments. He became possessed with the overwhelming urge to put his mind and soul into helping Y/N through this. He wanted to be there for her as much as humanly possible to help alleviate her qualms about whether or not their baby would make it here safely, to let her know that Y/N was going to make it out of the other side safely despite her worries that her body might give out.

It was as if everything in the world ceased to exist as Harry held her hands while she continued to push. He felt his bones grinding together from how hard she was squeezing them and his knees ached from being planted on the uncomfortable porcelain. Slowly but surely, Harry watched as the baby inched its way outside of Y/N’s body every time she let out a piercing scream and pushed as hard as she could . It was when he noticed a mere halt in the delivery that he began to think something might be wrong.

“I think…..I think the baby’s stuck?” Harry pondered aloud so that the doula could hear.

“What do you mean, Harry? Tell me what you see?”

He felt Y/N’s body tense up at his worrisome tone, but Harry shook his head at her to let her know that it didn’t mean that she needed to panic.

“I think…Think the shoulder’s caught maybe? The baby’s comin’ out at an angle it almost looks like. Haven’t moved at all in a few pushes.”

Harry had no idea what he was saying nor did he know if he was correct in the slightest, but he was almost certain that whatever was happening shouldn’t be.

“That happens. It’s nothing to worry about. You just have to reach in there and pull them yourselves sometimes. If you three can hang tight for me, I’ll be there in about ten minutes and then I can take over.”

Both Harry and Y/N felt their hearts flutter and exchanged knowing looks when their doula referred to them as a party of three. It was becoming a reality, there being only the two of them in the house anymore. Sure, the baby was only about thirty percent out of Y/N’s birth canal, but any second now they would all be meeting each other for the first time.

“I really feel like I can just-” Harry began to prod around the baby’s head, to which Y/N jerked backwards.

“Harry, please don’t. You heard her. She’s almost here. Let’s just wait.”

A fresh wave of tears streamed from the corners of her eyes. She sounded depleted and at her wit’s end, like she didn’t have much longer before she completely gave up. It made Harry even more determined to help.

“Do ye’ trust me?” Harry peered up at her through his own mussed hair.

Her eyes were closed and her head was facing the ceiling as if she was trying to channel her focus on anything but the pain she felt, but Harry still made out the faint nod that she gave him in response.

“Look at me, Y/N,” Harry demanded, rubbing circles on her thighs where his hands were planted. 

His voice trembled harder than it ever had before, but he was confident with what he was about to do next.

“I need ye’ to give me one, good push and I’m gonna pull the baby out. Can ye’ do that? Just one more.”

She was utterly exhausted, but she nodded at her lover once more. The couple braced themselves, counting down from three before Y/N pushed like she never had before. Harry then worked his fingers around the baby’s body and quite literally bumped their shoulder free so that he could pull them the rest of the way out of her. Y/N wailed at the sudden disturbance of Harry reaching his hand inside of her to help the baby out, but her cries were soon replaced by a different set of lungs.

Harry was in disbelief when he first heard the baby cry. It’s what pulled him from his state of shock and made him realize that, for the first time, he was holding his child in his arms. He moved quickly, placing the red-faced infant on Y/N’s chest so he could reach for the stack of towels he had laid out on the toilet seat. As gently and as quickly as he could, he found his way back behind Y/N so that she and the baby were laying against his chest. 

He held them close as all three of them cried, two of them tears of joy, the other tears of being removed from the comfort of their mother’s womb. Y/N and Harry couldn’t quit mumbling coos to their little one, in absolute awe of the tiny human that they created together. Harry did his best through his tears to clean some of the goop out of the baby’s eyes so that they could properly see the bub, still paying no attention to the mess in the tub that they were all sitting in. He had his family and that was all that mattered. That was all that would ever matter.

Amidst basking in the glory that was successfully delivering their own child and holding them close for the first time in nine long months, Y/N realized something.

“Wait,” she exhaled forcefully, clearly fighting exhaustion.

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

Harry’s chest rumbled with a short laugh, causing Y/N’s body to shift as well before he laid his head against her shoulder.

“Ye’ know what? I didn’t even look.”

bub demanding to stay on daddy’s arm when he needs to go to a meeting so bub stays there the whole meeting while touching his face the whole time and tugging at his hair

OKAY BUT IMAGINE THIS FOR REAL I AM UNWELL

He’s doing one of those Skype interviews and he thinks he’s in the clear but then his bub BUSTS in the room demanding to be held and demanding to know who he’s talk to. He’d ask if it was mama because they always FaceTime each other when they’re away and it would make everyone swoon. Harry would tell them they can stay as long as they’re good and they ARE, but they keep doing little things to Harry that makes it hard for him to concentrate on the interviewer’s questions. He’s trying to talk about how much he’s looking forward to touring the US next summer but he can’t say much because because bub is pulling on their cheeks like Harry does to them when he’s messing around with them and trying to make them laugh.

Harry doesn’t want to cause a scene because he knows he’s on camera and if he scolds them in the slightest it’ll be taken out of context so he just rolls with it and laughs it off. When bub gets comfortable and realizes the person Harry is talking to is his “friend” (not really but Harry is just so personable and friendly that he acts like everyone is his close pal), they start wanting to talk to them too! They keep interrupting and telling the person behind the camera that they’re “FWEEE YEARS OLD” and that they had a mango for breakfast and that later they’re going to swim in the pool with nana and everyone is just so caught up in Baby Styles that they let it go on and on and it’s all ANYONE talks about for weeks 🥺🥺🥺

An interview during self-isolation with Zane Lowe (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Word Count: 2.2k

Author’s Note: I’ve gotten a ton of asks to the tune of this scenario - about what a quarantine video with Harry and his family would look like. I put as many of them together as I could for you all! Hope you enjoy and it’s not too confusing, as this isn’t my typical writing style, but I tried my best to make it worth your while! Take care and TPWK.

“Harry, can ye’ hear me alright?” Harry heard Zane Lowe’s voice fill his right ear as he readjusted his headphones.

“Yeah, I can hear ya,” he responded, running his fingers through his hair once everything was situated and his laptop was balanced perfectly on his knee.

“I’ve just been video calling and chatting it up with everyone on how they’re navigating the pandemic, so I’m very thankful you’ve agreed to join in.”

“‘S no problem. Thank you f’ having me.”

“Oh!” Zane interjected his own strain of thought, “I see you’ve brought a special guest for us today,” he said when Harry’s screen finally focused and he was able to see everything on Harry’s end.

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aweee my heart is feeling so many different things right now

Overloaded

&

Overwhelmed

prompt (a kofi commission): “Hii Isla I absolutely adore the relationship ceorry has with his daughters so maybe you could write something about Harry getting Ivy and Willow ready for kindergarten and he’s stressed because Y/N is there to help and he’s trying to do their hair and they’re being silly which stresses him even more but then Ivy asks how Harry learned “how to be a Good Daddy” and he gets really emotional and feels kinda bad for being so stressed”

warnings: Harry in dad mode 🥵

i write for FREE - I am also trying to steer away from paetron so everyone can have access my stories - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it! (this is what motivates me to continue writing)!

-

YN was at an overnight conference for one of the charities that they work closely with - it wasn’t the first time that Harry had the kids without his wife but she rarely went out of town without them so it wasn’t very common.

It didn’t help that it was tax season which meant that work was a living hell. Owning a multi-billion dollar company meant a lot of taxes and forms or it could end in legal charges.

The last thing Harry needed to go to prison for was tax evasion or fraud if one of his idiot employees fucked something up - so everything had to be tripled check, all over the world in every single branch.

It meant that he had been working unusually long days that morphed into the night for the past week and a half and by the time he got home from the office, the whole household had long went to bed.

It was also the first time that Harry was away from their youngest child because YN took the baby with her because she was still breastfeeding.

There was a nasty mixture of emotions that had been flipping his stomach between the anxiety of his baby and wife being gone to the extremely important tax audits - he was more stressed out than he had been in a long time.

Harry had come home the night before to be greeted by his mum who had been watching the babies while he was at work - YN having left earlier in the day.

He had arrived back to the estate at nearly eight in the evening after going into work at six in the morning - a full day filled with yelling at employees and explaining to HR why he was firing so many people at a time.

As he opens the front door, he is instantly met with loud screeches that not doubtly belong to his redheaded daughter and angry shouts coming from his oldest.

He takes a deep inhale to prepare himself, kicking off his boots, and trench coat - listening as he hears his mum try to soothe the situation.

“Vee, you know that it is important to share toys with your little sister. It is also not nice to grab things out of her hand,” Anne scolds gently, seemingly in the playroom with them.

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Punk Harry Series Part 17

Part 16

Masterlist

Y/B/N= Your Brothers Name

Birth:

You never really were a huge fan of kids. You could never pinpoint your exact reason for disliking them, maybe it was how loud they were or maybe it was how you never really knew what was ok to say to them and what was not. Either way, you weren’t the biggest fan and having a huge family was not ideal.

You always thought that you were probably going to go your whole life without having any. And of course you knew that if whoever you ended up with did what kids you would rethink the decision but for the time being, you were fine with the future of none.

So you knew when you got together with Harry that eventually you would have to talk to him about the whole children thing you just never thought you’d be pregnant before you had that talk. So after the first two weeks went by and the first initial shock of holy shit I’m gonna have a baby passed the two of you sat down and hashed it out. You decided almost everything, this was going to be an open family. No pushing heterosexuality, no gendering anything, no religion being forced onto anyone, open communication, and a judgement free zone. You had grown up in a household where none of that was present, Harry was slightly luckier than you but for the most part your childhood was similar and you didn’t want the same for your child.

Then a few months later you and Harry had a very small wedding in LA. Only Harry’s family, your coworkers, the band, and your brother showed. Your father had insisted that he wanted no part of your life if you weren’t abiding his wishes and, in your mind, well good riddance. You had a small wedding, party of thirty people, and you had a fucking blast.

In all honesty it wasn’t even really a wedding, no one got dressed up. You didn’t even wear a white dress, it was just like a small gathering where you hung out with who you considered your family. A few days after you signed the license and called it a day.

You were reminiscing on that day when Harry burst through the door of the house holding some big piece of wood with at least 12 nails in it.

“How the fuck can I set up one of the most complicated security systems to date but not be able to set up a fucking swing set?” He groaned throwing the wood to the ground and face planting onto the couch next to you, his face landing about two inches from your thigh. You smiled as you paused the movie you were barely watching and forced your fingers through his long hair.

“Do you need some help?” You asked and he sighed and he pushed himself up slightly before leaning forward so his nose dug into your thigh.

“Love, your due in like a week, you can’t be out there helping me put together this ridiculous piece of shit.” He spat and you smiled.   

“I can read you the directions that we both know you tossed aside.” You said and he looked up at you and smiled.

“I guess that would be ok but we’re getting you a chair, you shouldn’t be standing that long. Lord fucking knows we’ll be out there for at least an hour. Fucking, dumb thing.” He muttered as he walked away to go find you some plastic chair to sit in.

Minutes later he appeared again with a white plastic lawn chair.  He came back over to you and helped you up from the spot on the couch, one handed holding the chair in the other hand. His hand was on your back as he lead you out the back door to the very small backyard the two of you had.

In the beginning of your pregnancy Harry was pretty chill about you going around and doing whatever you wanted. You weren’t really showing much in the the first trimester and sometimes you and Harry both almost forgot you were pregnant at all. But as the baby started to grow, so did his nerves. You would be doing the simplest task and suddenly Harry would be there to help you. You tried to explain to him that you were honestly fine, and you didn’t need any help but he wouldn’t hear it. It was literally dumb things that would stress him out and having him jump up to aid you, things like, reaching for a bowl on the top shelf or stepping into the shower. He would insist that he was either there to help you into the shower or you had to get in when the bottom was still dry and then turn on the water. He said it lessened the chances of slipping, which you knew was bullshit but you had decided to humor him. At least he cared, right?

But lately you couldn’t be more thankful for his theatrical worries seeing as they actually helped. The last trimester you had grown to the size of a fucking watermelon. You had jokingly exaggerated with a few friends that some people at the park mistook you for a air balloon.

So when you were struggling to get out of bed in the morning you truly couldn’t be more grateful that you husband was right there to help haul you up.

You smiled fondly at him as you sat in the chair, reading the instructions to him to help set up this swing set.

“So wait, I’m supposed to use this screw?” He asked and not turning to you but holding up what was clearly a nail over his head for you to see. You smiled as you rolled your eyes, you could swear he was smart.

“No baby, there are no screws here, only nails. And they’re all the same size love, no difference. Harry I don’t know what you’re so confused about, there’s five pieces of wood, you nail them together and then put in the swings.” You said and he groaned before dropping the wood in his hands to the ground.

“Fuck this shit, the baby can play with fucking sticks for all I care. Not even born yet and they’re spoiled as fuck already. You know fuck this fucking shit! For fucks sake! I’m calling John, he can fucking build this.” He yelled in frustration.

“Uh Harry.” You tried.

“No this is bullshit! You’re reading the fucking instructions to me and I’m still confused! I have a fucking masters degree in Behavioral Science and Physical Education and I can’t put a fucking swing set together!?” He yelled again as he swung his foot to kick the swing seat to his left.

“Harry, I’m-” You tried again.

“No Y/N fucking listen this is shit! I’m about the be a fucking father and I can’t do this! If I can’t put together a fucking swing set how the fuck am I going to parent someone?” He asked, finally turning to look you in the eyes. He came to you slower, not noticing how uneven your breath had become or how your hands were clenching the arms of the plastic chair.

“I don’t think I’ve ever said it, but love I’m so scared. How the fuck did I go nine months without talking about how scared I was for this? Like, I’m about to actually be responsible for another human being. Well, we are, can’t forget you but still. Y/N I don’t know if I’m ready for this.” He said, kneeling down on the grass in front of you, his hands coming to rest on your knees.

“This is the part where you tell me I’m being irrational and that I’m going to be a great father and this is all in my head.” He started, his eyes looking into yours. His expression quickly turning from playfulness to worry as he saw you were clearly in pain.

“Uh, yeah what you said.” You choked up, his hands coming up to your hands. He knew something was wrong when he had to pry them from the chair.

“Love, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Uh, no, no I think this is normal.” You said, closing your eyes as you tried to even out your breathing, the pain in your lower stomach not easing up quite yet.

“Oh fuck, are you in labor?” He asked, bending his head so his eyes could reach yours.

“Yeah I think so.” You said.

“Ok, ok fuck. Ok, let’s get you inside and then we can start timing them yeah?” He said as he slowly helped you up from the chair, abandoning it in the backyard, his focus now all on you.

“How long apart before we can go the hospital?” He asked as he set you back down in the couch were you were previously.

“Uh, six to seven minutes apart I think?” You asked, looking up as he spun around, his eyes searching for something in the room. He found a nearby book, the cover your recognized as one the pregnancy books he had bought. His eyes skimmed the pages as he flipped through the book.

“Uh, yeah, five to seven minutes apart and we can go.” He said before pulling his phone out and handing it to you with the timer app up on the screen. He then grabbed a blanket off the couch adjacent to where you were sitting and draped it over your body.

You sat on the couch, awaiting the next contraction while he gathered up the baby bag and everything he thought you would need before coming back to you.

He wormed his way between you and the edge of the couch before spreading his legs slightly and pulling you into his lap. Your side was now pressed into his chest and your legs were draped over his thigh. He sat with one arm wrapped around your back and the other resting on your rather large bump, his thumb rubbing circles into the clothed skin.

The two of your sat for hours on the couch, first calling his family to inform them. You were suddenly very happy that they had decided to fly into town and stay in a hotel only an hour away once you hit nine months. You couldn’t imagine having to give birth without Anne there to give you advice or Gemma there to take artsy pics for your instagram later.

You had debated calling your family for a total of twenty minutes before saying fuck it, you only give birth to your first baby once.

Your brother answered and said he would be on a plane within the hour, your mother said she was happy for you and said she would be out as soon as she could but had to get the time off approved from her part time job first (Dad had finally let her get one after Y/B/N moved out), your Dad answered but said he didn’t approve the relationship, and couldn’t approve of this child either.

You then cried for another hour as Harry berated your father over the phone, following another hour of tears that he then comforted you through.

The next few hours consisted of timing contractions and watching Harry Potter movies.

You were at ten minutes apart when Gemma, Anne and Robin walked in the door.

The next seven hours consisted of everyone but you sleeping. You pressed the stop button when your felt another contraction come on, your eyes then darting to everyone around you, Gemma was on the love seat in the corner of the room, he head knocked back and mouth wide open. Robin had curled into the other couch, his back to Anne. Anne, who was clearly starting to wake up, was weirdly just sitting straight up, you weren’t sure how she was comfortable but whatever floats her goat right?

Harry had his nose pressed into your neck so you wouldn't necessarily look at him, but you could feel him snoring, that was for sure.

“Can’t sleep love?” Anne asked, her voice showing that she clearly could sleep. You smiled but shook your head sadly.

“No, sometimes I’ll doze off but then another contraction hits and I’m wide awake again.” You said as you started the timer again, signalling the contraction had ended.

“How's the pain?” She asked.

“Not too bad, just kind of annoying. Like I can definitely feel it, and I cannot sleep through it, but I’m fine for the moment. It’s getting worse though.” You said and she nodded.

“Hungry?” She asked and you smiled.

“I’d kill for some crackers and water right now.” You said and she smiled before standing to get you what you requested.

You spent the next few hours talking with Anne, asking all the questions that had rattled your mind. Everything from what was really the best diapers (you never trusted the commercials cause all of them say they’re the more recommended one so like who’s lying?) to if your vagina would really rip and they would have to sew it back up (which you guess is actually true and you almost threw up).

Before you knew it you were being helped into the back of Harry’s Range Rover (you said it was a cliche but he said it was family safe and looked sick as fuck). Harry was in the back with you while Anne took the drivers wheel, Robin and Gemma deciding to take another car and follow instead of all cramming into one.

Getting to the hospital was uneventful and in all honesty nothing like the movies seeing as the receptionist didn’t even look up, just told you to sit in the waiting room while they readyed a room and waiting for your OBGYN to be called in.

You waited for another hour before Dr. Williams came in, she smiled as she came and shook everyone's hand before coming to have her hands rest against the sides of your stomach.

“How far?” She asked.

“Uh, five minutes from the last one.” You said your breath fairly uneven seeing as the last one had ended only seconds ago.

“Alright, well, let’s get you into a room and we can see how far you’re dilated yeah?” She said, before allowing Harry to help her in helping you up. She waved over a male nurse who had just entered the room with a wheelchair and helped you into it. Harry walking behind you to take control of the wheelchair from the nurse. You heard him thank him but you weren’t truly paying attention.

Everything passed in a blur as you were lead into a room and helped onto a hospital gown and then helped into the bed.

Gemma and Robin sat outside the door, Anne and Harry being the only ones in the room as you were checked to see how far your were.

“Alright well, Y/N?” Dr. Williams said, trying to get your attention. You looked up to her before nodding to show that she had it. “You’re only at four centimeters, you need to be at ten.” She said and you nodded.

“How long should that take?” Harry asked, his fingers threading through your hair as he pulled it into a messy bun on top of your head.

“Anywhere from twelve to forty eight hours really. Babies like to take their time.” She said shrugging her shoulders as you let out a groan. “And you still want to do this naturally correct Y/N?” She asked and you nodded.

“Natural birth is a beautiful thing and the body knows what it’s doing.” You said, almost in a chant.

“Of course, well, if you change your mind don’t be afraid to call for me. I’ll come back in a few hours to check on your progress. For the mean time, although it may be hard, try to get some sleep. You’ve got a long night ahead of you.” She said and you nodded before she left the room. Gemma and Robin quickly replacing her.

Throughout the whole thing you had this painful urge to push, like you had the biggest shit to take and you body just wanted it out. But you knew that you shouldn’t so you just forced yourself to do the dumb breathing techniques that you had learned in the birthing classes Harry had forced you two to take.

Harry, who of course was being absolutely perfect, was right next you breathing in the dumb way with you. Of course now no one was getting on your nerves more than he was.

You knew that if you got up a took and walk it would help speed along the labor process but the boy wouldn’t let you get up. He insisted that he wanted you in that bed the whole time cause what if the baby falls out on one of these walks?

You managed to convince him otherwise and he followed you around on your walk with the wheelchair the whole time.  

It took a full thirty hours for you to become fully dilated and when you did you weren’t sure if it was the contractions of the nervous butterflies that hurt worse.

You sighed through another contraction as two nurses set up the stur-ups around you. Harry’s familiar face soon gracing your presence, only this time he was decked in a blue hospital gown and poofy hat.

For the next three hours you screamed, and cried, and probably bruised Harry’s hand and ripped his shirt. You cursed at Harry and his semen, then apologized, then cried some more.

And then, the world stopped as you heard a cry.

(I’m crying omg)

Word Count: 2975