harry styles dad

Holiday Bound - Snowbound Holiday One Shot

Our favorite three! It’s a little sad, a dash of sweet, and a dollop of smut at the end of it all. It’s part of the Snowbound sandbox, but it also works as a standalone relatively well. Enjoy. x

Note: i’ve proofed some of this, but do need to go back because I have the *nagging* urge that something is there that I can’t find….

“Why are yeh lookin’ at me like that?”

He’s got a small, incredulous smile playing around his mouth and there’s a twinkle in his eyes, but yours are sharp on him. He’s got a skip in his step as he sets a glass of milk down in front of his son, who is chewing contently on mouthful after mouthful of progressively soggier cereal, and he’d been singing in the shower this morning – belting out carol after carol, adding in his own arrangements and note changes. He is, by all accounts, in a good mood.

You’re worried, though.

“When do you have to go?” you ask him from your chair. You’re still in pajamas – festive, plaid flannel ones, with snowflakes sprinkled over the red legs, and the black, long-sleeved shirt of his with a hole in the neck – one that you’d long ago taken away from him – hangs off your shoulder on one side.

Harry’s green eyes dim slightly, but only for a second. “Soon,” he says, pushing the sleeve of his jumper back to look at his watch. “Now,” he amends with a sigh.

“Daddy?” your son asks, the word wet sounding through his mouthful of food. “Are we baking today?”

“We’d better,” Harry says. “’Else your Gran will hang me if we show up with nothing.”

It’s when he leans down to kiss the top of your son’s head that you see a crack in his façade and your heart clenches in your chest. He’s got his eyes squeezed shut and the set of his brow is that which can only be described as wistful while he lingers, keeping his mouth tight to a head of curly hair that so resembles his.

“Be good fo’ your mum,” Harry says while ruffling his son’s hair, rolling his eyes when the child ducks his head out from under his father’s hand.

“Eat your breakfast, please,” you tell him as you stand, abandoning your tea. “I’m saying goodbye.” You skip once across the kitchen floor to stick close to his father’s heels as you follow him out of the room.

Keep reading

Versace on the floor

It is the first time you and Harry have been able to spend time together alone after the birth of your daughter. You feel a little bit guilty leaving your three month old daughter alone. But you know she is in good hands - with grandma Anne. It costs Harry and you many misgivings to leave your daughter at his mother’s home. Anne waved her right hand in farewell  and the other hand rested on the buggy which she pushes softly back and forwards. You climbed in the Range Rover and waved back. He started the motor and drove out of the driveway. His jaw was clenched together and you squeezed his thigh softly. He gave you a wan smile.

You are glad that you have time with your husband. The first three months were filled with horrible, sleepless nights, fights with Harry about which one of you have to get up and feed her. You want to be the perfect Mum, the Mum who can do everything, doing the laundry while she cooks a perfect menu,which she serves her husband, with perfect makeup and a beautiful dress in the evening. You tried it. Yes you tried it but you failed. You felt like a  mum in the last time not like a desirable woman, not like a super mum, who can do everything. How often were you crying, and how often did you call your mum for some advice? Sometimes you felt so stupid because you thought you have to know what your baby needs. You were overworked. The whole everyday routine was new for you and Harry and sometimes you thought to yourself you were not able to be a good mum.You hid your tears but Harry knew it. He saw it as he came home. He knows you and one look in your face discloses you. But he said nothing to you, he hugged you and kissed your hair. You regained new strength from his hug and his presence. Everything was easier with him.

He works, thank god only half days, but sometimes he has to spend the whole day in the studio. These days seem endless, and often your mum or Anne comes over and helps you.  

You wake up, mostly before Harry, and habitually dressed in the same clothes like yesterday. You wear leggings and one of Harry’s old jumpers, as if it had become a uniform. Your hair is in a ponytail or in a bun because her little fists can grab very tightly.You feed your daughter and kiss Harry goodbye.

After you change your jumper because your daughter spit up on it, you take a walk with her in the park and shop for some groceries. And if Harry comes home in the afternoon it’s allowed you to take a short shower while Harry plays with your daughter. Sometimes you stand in the doorframe, drying your hair with a towel and watching how he plays or speaks with her. Then you stop in your movement and you feel how your heart jumps in delight and you know everything – every tear, every fight – is worth it.

But the intimate togetherness is gone. You fall asleep on the sofa while Harry puts your daughter to bed. You want to talk to him but often you can’t keep your eyes open. It’s like a ritual every evening he carries you with his strong arms to your bed and kisses you on your forehead, and you smile softly with closed eyes. Snuggling into his side and he covers your body with the duvet.

And in the morning the same procedure starts again.

So you are looking forward to being alone with your husband! But Harry left the hotel room after breakfast. He has an appointment at the tailor because he needs a perfectly suitable suit tonight.

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Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the Street.Louis might have a problem.
Said problem lies entirely in the fact that he can’t seem to avoid Harry Styles, The Ex-Boyfriend That Broke His Heart and World Famous Popstar Sensation. Everything is only made more complicated by the fact that he doesn’t really want to avoid Harry either, even though they’re supposed to mean nothing to each other.
Another tiny problem may also be that Harry has no idea that Louis has a daughter now.
Yeah, he’s screwed.Louis runs a record label and Harry is his daughter’s new nanny. Over the course of a year, Harry helps Louis learn what it really is to be a father and somehow they find an unexpected home in each other.
Or, the kid fic where Louis wants to make Harry a star, Zayn just needs everyone to stop being stupid, Niall laughs his arse off at everything, Liam attempts to keep things in order and Harry takes a chance.When Harry’s son came home from school crying he didn’t think things could get any worse. Lucky for them, things were just about to change for the best.
Harry’s son get bullied until Louis’ son shows up :)the one where Louis’ pretty sure he’s already loved and lost his soulmate, and then he meets Harry.the one where Louis’s a dad in desperate need for a new nanny. Harry’s perfect for the job.the one where punk Louis likes to think he’s not clumsy, but he suspects he’ll have to accept it when he falls face first into a relationship with a head full of curls and his tiny human.harry is a photographer who’s trying to find his place. louis is a single father with a smile that feels like home.Louis never intended to fall in love with Harry: not five years into their time together in the band, not when they’re living on opposite continents, and especially not when he’s the new dad to a tiny human with way too much personality for anyone under nine pounds. Yet somehow Harry manages to worm his way into Louis’ life with every bit of weird affinity for Swedish homegoods and expensive baby clothes that you’d expect.Harry and Louis are separated, but for the sake of their two sons, they choose to spend Christmas together. It may just lead to a Christmas miracle.Harry’s near fatal accident exposed the cracks in his and Louis’ eleven year marriage. A serious error in judgement by Louis shattered it completely.Louis and Harry have been divorced for almost a year and apart for nearly three. On the paperwork, it says the grounds for their divorce were living apart for more than two years, but there’s more, that’s only what they’ll admit out loud.
Louis didn’t want to agree and sign the paperwork. He wanted to fight but he couldn’t confront the real reason for their divorce and a Harry who seemed so apathetic. Yet now that one of their children is sick, they’ll have to put their insecurities aside.au where harry plays rugby at uni, louis needs to hire a nanny, and life is one big cliche.At the age of twenty, Harry deals with things expected to occur at his age: student loans, instant meals, electricity bills, and the constant, incessant presence of never ending coursework.
That, and the job of raising his six year old daughter and avoiding the charm of a young, successful, and very off-limits Louis Tomlinson.“So let me get this straight. You took Mr. Squiggles from the classroom habitat, took him with you on your fieldtrip to the zoo, and released him in the aviary?”
Harry Styles is a single father, just trying to keep his life organized after losing his husband four years earlier. Between his daughter, Liam’s hellion twins, and Sophia throwing him into any romantic tangle she can think of, life gets a little crazy. Of course, everything changes the moment Lo and the twins get interested in their school musical, The Wizard of Oz. Because the new director, Louis Tomlinson, is just about the most attractive man that Harry has ever seen.
Featuring adorable Dad Harry, hotshot actor Louis, three sassy kids, a badass Sophia Smith, and a Liam who just wants all their kids to be well behaved.Louis sighs and gives himself a mental pep talk as he smooths his jumper down over his hips. He can do this. He can resist the draw of Harry Styles, because he is a responsible, mature adult, and as much as he wants to tangle his fingers in that mess of hair and map those ridiculous tattoos with his tongue, he does not want to get his daughter’s favorite teacher fired.Harry is just trying to figure it all out and Louis is just the person to help him do that.Louis has a 3 year old son and works at a daycare while getting his education degree.
Harry’s a fresh face Popstar with the world in his hands.
They meet over applesauce and hide n’ go seek.
Thicker Than Water

A/N: hello my loves! Here is the first part of the newest oneshot, I hope you enjoy it. Also, there’s a lot of background and set up in this part, so stick with me xx HUGE THANK YOU to @kellyh-stylesx for being my sounding board and inspiration. Also, @permanentcross thank you for your guidance and feedback!


Part 001

“I have a kid,” the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them and after they’re spoken, you bite your lips into your mouth and wait for the inevitable rejection. You’ve not been on more than a handful of dates with Harry, but if experience has taught you anything, it’s that men aren’t generally accepting of the fact that you have more responsibilities than most your age and it’s better to let them know sooner rather than later. When Harry nods and pushes his eyebrows together, absorbing the declaration, you continue.
“Her name is Violet, she’s four, and she’s the love of my life. I know it’s a lot and I understand if you –“ Harry shakes his head, interrupting your babbling.
“What about her dad?” Is all he says and it’s your turn to shake your head.
“Not in the picture.” You shrug. “Didn’t want to be.” Harry’s scowl hardens at that, as if the concept of someone not wanting you in their life is too difficult for him to comprehend.
“And look, I know we aren’t that serious, and we haven’t had ‘the talk’ about what we are and where were heading, but I just thought you should know what you’re getting yourself into.”
Harry clears his throat and his expression clears, seeming to have come to a resolution to some internal question. “Didn’t think we need to have ‘the talk’… do we? I mean, I like you, you like me,” he shrugs. “M’not seein’ anyone else.”
“Well neither am I,” you bite back a smile and he grins. “So. Violet. She’s four?” You nod.
“Yeah. I have a picture,” you hold up your phone for him to see. It’s a picture of you and your daughter, with her toddler arms wrapped tightly around your neck and her crazy bedhead sticking up all over the place. She’s giving a wide, cheesy, eyes closed grin and you’re kissing her cheek. Harry chuckles at the silly picture and looks back to you, the grin still on his face.
“She’s beautiful, love. Like her mum.” It’s your turn to grin as you feel your cheeks warm.
“Thank you,” you say, hoping he gets that you’re thanking him for more than just the compliment. Harry nods and takes your hand, playing with your fingers on the table.
“D’like to meet her one day,” he says, studying how your fingers move under his. He peeks up at you out of the corner of his eye and straightens when he sees your expression. It isn’t that you don’t want to introduce them – in fact you’d love to see them interact – but it worries you. You want to make sure Violet is around people who will stay around, people who are stable and serious about being in her life and with whom she is comfortable. This thing with Harry is just too new to allow it right now and you’re not sure how to go about telling him that without risking what you have.
“S’wrong?” Harry asks with a squeeze to your fingers.
“Nothing,” you smile. “Yeah, someday,” you end up agreeing. “I think maybe this is too… new, right now.”
“S’why I said ‘one day’, innit? I can’t imagine you go introducing her to every guy you date.” He shrugs. “Wouldn’t be fair to anyone.”
“I know, I just didn’t know how to talk to you about it, I guess. But I’m glad you get it.” Harry picks up your hand and kisses the back of it before catching the waiters eye so he can get the check.
When you arrive home, Violet is tucked in bed and Audrey, your babysitter, is sitting at the kitchen table. She’s got her laptop set up and a cup of tea beside her, completely absorbed in whatever it is she’s doing. She doesn’t even notice when you walk in and jumps a bit when you greet her.
“Hey,” you chuckle at the way she starts. “How was tonight? Did she go down okay?”
“It was good, and yeah, she went down right away,” Audrey smiles. “We had tea parties and grilled cheeses and made a pillow fort.” You laugh at that last one. It’s Violet’s newest phase. Last month it was dinosaurs, this month it’s pillow forts; bonus points for when you string up fairy lights.
“Thank you so much, Audrey,” you tell her as she packs up.
“No problem. Vi is one of the better kids I sit for.” She smiles as she takes the money in your outstretched hand. “Did you have fun on your date?” Audrey asks. She doesn’t know who you’ve been dating, only that you’ve been out several times, but she asks this every time. She’s a hopeless romantic, you can tell, even though she’s barely fifteen.
“I did,” you smile. “Thank you.” She slings her backpack over one shoulder and heads for the door, before turning to face you suddenly.
“You’re really nice,” Audrey says suddenly. “And you’re a good mom, I’ve seen you with Vi; you don’t pawn her off on me because it’s convenient. You deserve to be happy.”
“Thank you, Audrey,” you say genuinely. She’s a good kid, even if she is a tad dramatic. “I appreciate that.” Audrey smiles and waves before twisting the door handle and slipping through the open crack and closing it behind her. She lives two doors down and you peek through your window to make sure she gets in alright.
Sighing, you kick off your heels and stretch your feet, walking into your bedroom. You unclasp your necklace and bracelet, laying them on your dresser before changing into your pajamas and tying your hair up into a bun. Violet’s room is separated from yours by a linen closet, and when you sneak a peek into her room, you can see her tiny body sprawled out on her bed. She’s always been a restless sleeper, often kicking her legs and tossing and turning. Once you’d even found her head at the opposite side of the bed and her blankets halfway on the floor. Her nightlight is on and casting starts up on her ceiling and walls and her bedtime music plays softly from the speakers on her dresser. Her monkey is cuddled close to her body and half under it and her feet are hanging off the side of the mattress. As quietly as you can, you creep into her room to tuck her toes back under the covers. You kiss the unruly head of hair she has and tiptoe out of the room so as not to wake her.
In the kitchen, you find your favorite bottle of wine and pour yourself a glass. Taking a sip, you reflect on your night with Harry. He had been so understanding about your situation, it makes you wonder if he really meant what he’d said about wanting to meet her one day and if you could really allow it. It would be a total lifestyle change for him, and you, and Vi. You’re not used to depending on anyone and the idea of having someone to share both the struggles and the joys of parenthood with is both frightening and intriguing. Not that you’re expecting Harry to be Violet’s dad, but if you were being honest, you’d like a partner and Harry, although young, is mature and kind and you can see him staying in yours and Violet’s life. He would fit.
These thoughts are running around in your head in circles when your phone chimes with a text from Harry.
H: hi x
Y: hello there
Your phone lights up then, Harry’s name flashing across the screen. You hit the green ‘accept’ button and press the phone to your ear.
“Hi,” you greet.
“Hi,” you can hear the smile in his voice and it makes your lips involuntarily twitch.
“Listen, about tonight,” he starts. Your stomach drops and a cold pit replaces it. Maybe you were wrong? Maybe he didn’t take it as well as you thought. “I jus’ wanted to make sure I didn’t scare you with talking about meeting Violet.” He explains. “I want to meet her ‘cause she’s yours, but I don’t want t’push anythin’.” You let out a breath as quietly as you can in relief.
“You aren’t pushing anything. I want you guys to meet, I just need some time to make sure it’s right for both of you.” You imagine he’s nodding and running a hand through his hair. “Things with her dad didn’t end so well, and since then, I’ve not really had anything serious,” you shrug. “She hasn’t ever met a man I’ve dated and I don’t want to confuse her or have someone in her life that isn’t going to stay there. And I think it’s something you need to think about as well, if it’s something you’re ready to deal with and be around all the time.”
“S’that mean we’re serious?” He asks it quietly, and you wish you could see his face so you’d be able to read his expression.
“Well…” you stall. “I’m not seeing anyone else, neither are you. I don’t know.” You admit. “I don’t really think it’s just up to me.”
“Fair point,” he allows. “Let’s go out again this weekend and talk about it, yeah?”
“Sure,” you agree. This will give you both a few days to let the news sink in and let you wrap your heads around the shift in the situation.

The next morning, your alarm goes off before the sun rises and you slap at it to quiet the annoying buzzing. Groaning, you bury your head in the pillow for a moment before throwing the covers back and standing. The phone call with Harry plays over in your mind as you shower and get ready for the day, and a sense of calm about the situation comes over you. He hadn’t seemed repelled by the idea and, taking it a step further, even wants to talk about the logistics of it. No one else you’ve dated since Violet being born had reacted that way and it makes you hopeful that Harry still wants to continue seeing where your relationship could go.
Fully ready for the day, you walk into Violet’s room to get her ready for daycare. With your hand on her back, you rub gentle circles into the worn pajama top.
“Time to wake up, sweet pea,” you say quietly. “C’mon babe.” Kissing her hair as she groans and, just as you’d done, turns into her pillow. She peaks at you through her mess of curls and smiles a sleepy smile.
“Did you have sweet dreams?” You ask and she nods, holding her arm out to you for cuddles. This was your morning routine, and by now you’re used to it. You sit on your daughter’s tiny bed and pull her into your lap, cradling her to you while she wakes up.
“What did you dream about?” You ask.
“Monkey,” she yawns. “We were playing in the fort.” Her stuffed monkey is still clutched to her chest as she snuggles into you.
“Well that sounds like a fun dream,” you say with a smile. “Shall we get ready for the day? We get to bring snack today.” You remind her. Violet perks up at that, as her snack day is always her favorite day of the month.
As soon as Violet’s teeth are brushed and hair is pulled back (“in a braid momma!”) you help her into her clothes and get her up her stuff to take to daycare and you off to work. Snack and coffee in hand and Vi in tow, you’re out the door and loaded up into the car.

The rest of the week goes along quite the same way, following the same routine, but as the days creep closer to the weekend, you get a bit more nervous. You haven’t heard much from Harry, except to confirm plans for Saturday, and you’re starting to talk yourself out of moving forward. He is terribly young, after all. Not that you are very old yourself, but a toddler is a lot of responsibility and you’re not sure Harry can handle that. Or if you even want to put that on his shoulders. Not to mention what the two of you would have to deal with: the paps, the fans, the rumors; it would be a life style change for you two as well.
Audrey shows up at 6 on the dot Saturday night with a bag full of pillows and what looks suspiciously like a feather boa.
“Tea party in the pillow fort,” she informs you, holding the bag up. Laughing, you close the door behind her and follow her into the living room where Violet is.
“Thanks for coming over again so soon,” you say to Audrey as you pull on your coat.
“Yeah, of course!” She smiles and waves to Violet who instantly runs over for a hug.
“Okay baby,” you tell Vi. “Momma’ll be back soon. Listen to Audrey and be a good girl, okay?” Violet reaches for you to give you a hug and a wet kiss goodbye and you squeeze her body to yours. “Thanks again, Audrey. Won’t be home too late,” you smile, handing the tot back to her sitter.

Pulling up to Harry’s, you’re a bundle of nerves. You aren’t sure how this evening is going to go, if you’ll decide to continue seeing one another or if you’ll make a clean break. You know what you’re hoping for, but you don’t know that it’s mutual and it’s weighing on you more than you care to admit. It isn’t as if you’re in love or anything, but you care for him and he seems like a good man and you appreciate him. When you shift the car to park and climb out, you’re greeted with a blinding flash and a strange man coming up to you.
“Hey, hey there! Who are you? You here to see Harry? Are you his new girl? Or is this just a side thing? What’s your name? Can you tell us your name?” Ignoring the paparazzo, you side step him and walk quickly up to Harry’s drive with your head down, where, thanks to it being private property, the man is not permitted. Harry opens the door a few seconds after your knuckles tapped against the door and ushers you inside.
“Hey,” he says, frowning slightly. You’d not been to his before and the fact that the first time you are you were ambushed doesn’t sit well with him. He doesn’t want them to scare you away. Trying to shake off the feeling of being watched, you smile.
“Hi.” Harry bends and kisses your mouth gently, his lips capturing yours and slotting between them in greeting.
“Hi,” you say against his mouth.
“Sorry ‘bout that. Can’t do much ‘f they’re not on my property.” He rubs his hands up and down your upper arms a few times and searches your face for any signs of dissatisfaction. You’d expected to have your picture taken at some point, but it had taken you by surprise tonight. You give him a small smile and lift one shoulder.
“I’m fine,” you assure. He stares a minute longer until he’s convinced, and then takes your hand, leading you to the kitchen.
“Thought we’d order a takeaway,” he says, pouring you a glass of wine. You notice the label, and smile at him, taking a few steps and closing the distance between your bodies. Your hands slide up his torso, fingers memorizing the feel of him, and resting you chin on his shoulder blade.
“That’s my favorite wine,” you tell him, watching as his cheek lifts in a smirk.
“I know, you told me,” he laughs. He covers your hands with his, bringing one up to his mouth and kissing it, before turning and handing you the glass of rich, red liquid. Being with him here like this, it’s impossible not to think about how he would fit into your life. Impossible not to think about him being in your kitchen cuddling up to you while Violet chatters away, playing with her toys. You know the talk is coming, after all that’s the whole point of you being here tonight, and your insides twist with nerves. You withdraw from him, taking a seat at the bar and hoisting yourself up onto the stool.
“Alright?” Harry asks, sensing your withdrawal. You want to tell him you are, you want to just be here in this moment with him, but you can’t exactly ignore the crushing weight of the elephant in the room.
“Before we order, should we talk?” You ask, unable to put it off any longer. Harrys face creases, his eyebrows drawing tight over his eyes as he rolls the request around in his head.
If he’s being honest, he’s as nervous as you are. He knows he wants to be with you, that’s already been established for him, but he doesn’t know what kind of father figure he would be for Violet. She is so young, and he doesn’t want her to depend on him if he cannot be dependable for her. He knows he isn’t around all the time, which a father should be in his opinion, and he doesn’t know how he would fit into your lives. What would his role be? Father? Friend of Violet’s mother? Her mother’s boyfriend? What is he ready to take on? Would he be a good influence? Would the people in his life accept you? Accept Violet?
Harry sighs, and takes a seat on the barstool next to you.
“I know I probably scared you when I talked about meeting Violet. I think I scared myself a bit. I think I just wanted you to know… I just wanted you to know that you having a daughter didn’t change how I felt about you, and m’still in this if you are.” Your chest swells with a motion for this man who is so kind and so understanding, and you can’t quite help the water that shines in your eyes. You manage to keep the tears from falling, sniffling quickly and taking a sip of wine.
“I’m in it,” you tell him, and as soon as the words are out of your mouth you know exactly how true they are. “And I do want you to meet her, I just think we both need to be sure that it’s the best thing for everybody.” Harry takes his hand and brushes your hair behind your ear while you talk. “ I need you to really think about this, Harry. I need you to really consider what this would mean, and all the implications.”
“I have thought about it, quite a lot actually. M’not sayin’ I’d be perfect at it right from the start, but I want to make this work with you and with Violet, and when you’re ready, when it’s the right time, I’d love to meet her.” He says this with such confidence, such calm stability, that it settles your nerves and the knot in your belly begins to unwind.
You shift your self off the barstool with as much grace as possible, and come to stand between his open legs. Your hands rake through his hair and frame his face as you pull it to your own and cover his mouth with yours. Harrys hands find your hips and knead into the meat of them, pulling you closer as his mouth opens and his tongue strokes your own. His kisses slow and sensual, but deep, and you can feel it from the top of your head to the very tips of your toes.
Your arms wind around his neck as your body aligns itself so it is flush with his, your soft curves and pillowy breasts meeting his toned chest and wandering fingers. He groans when your fingers lightly scratch at his scalp and he ducked his head to suck kisses into your neck. Your panting now, breath coming out in short, hard puffs as he works his mouth against you and his fingers trace up your sides and cup your full breasts. You can feel how hard Harry is breathing, his chest rising and falling at a rapid, nearly alarming rate. When he pulls away from you slightly, his eyes meet yours and you can see how wide his pupils have blown. He’s looking at you almost painfully; he wants to take you right there in the kitchen, bend your body over the counter and make you scream his name, but he won’t. Not yet, not like this.
“Fuck,” he swears, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“What? What’s wrong?” You pant out. Had he changed his mind? Had he realized what it would mean to be with you? To really be with you?
“M’leavin’ in two days,” he says. He says it quietly, regretfully, even, because he doesn’t want to go.
“How long?” You ask. You knew this was part of his job, he travels the world and he loves it. But you wish you didn’t have to go.
“Few weeks, maybe a month.” He answers. Nodding, you take in the information. Harry rests his head on your chest and holds you there for a moment, letting you stroke your hands down his back.
“Well,” you say thoughtfully. “That should give me time to prepare Violet for meeting you, and to give you time to make sure this is what you want.” Harry looks up at you, blazing green eyes meeting yours.
“You are what I want,” he says, and you chuckle.
“S’good to know, otherwise this would be a wee bit inappropriate.” Harry rolls his eyes and smacks your arse playfully.
“Should we order, then?” He says gruffly. It’s the last thing he wants to do right now, as he would much rather have his mouth on you than anything from a takeaway, but it’ll have to do for now.

When someone says ‘Harry and Louis are just friends’


Our Harry Dreams.

In order of oldest to newest


1. Pregnancy Problems

Dad Harold. In which you go through the good and not-so-good of pregnancy.

2. Breaking Point  Part 2*

SMUT. In which you miss him so much you reach breaking point.

3. Worried Sick*  Part 2*

Dad Harold. In which your daughter is irresponsible.

4. Changing Rooms*

In which he reassures you of your worth.

5. Big Spender

Dad Harold. In which you have a problem with his problem.

6. Figuring it out*

In which you have a typical mom day and there is a lot of confiding in.

7. Cuddles are the Best Remedy*

In which Harry comes home sick.

8. Noticed

SMUT. In which your needy and Harry just won’t pay attention to you.

9. Locked out*

In which Harry comes to rescue you…eventually.

10. Chaos*
Dad Harold. In which you have to leave and Harry is left to hold up the fort at home.

“Home remedies” - h.s. Part 7

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6



“Life, if anything, is nothing more than a series of moments captured frame for frame as our eyes take in those around us and impact us monumentally,” Harry said, attempting to not sound like he was reading from a card but you knew he totally hadn’t memorized the whole speech completely. You couldn’t help but smirk as you leaned back in your seat and just let it happen.

He’d been keeping the speech a secret from you for weeks. You knew he was presenting and you’d come to terms with that, but you had been nervous for whatever flowery declaration of love he may attempt to pepper into the whole thing. But he was doing a pretty good job, and so far you weren’t as embarrassed as you thought you’d be. 

“That’s why photography is so important though, right?” Harry continued, “Because we have so many moments during the day that cause so many different emotions, that we oftentimes look over the most important ones. I know, that with two kids, the little moments can sometimes go unnoticed. But that’s what photography does for us - it allows us to ponder and remember on those little moments that may have passed up by, that make us feel something we didn’t know we possessed, and to help us give thanks for the moments we’ve cherished with others.”

Okay, so maybe now you were crying a little bit, but you weren’t going to let the small tears show as you continued to slouch slightly in your chair, your arms crossed lazily over your stomach as you attempted to act as cool as a cucumber. 

Internally though, you were freaking out.

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Harry-- Nightmare

The sound of wailing ripped Harry from his sleep, causing him to sit up in bed and look around in confusion.  There was a short pause, like someone trying to catch their breath, and it started again.  In an instant, Harry bolted out of bed and thundered down the hall, turning the hall lights on as he went, racing towards his daughter’s bedroom door.

Fear and the adrenaline coursing through Harry’s body were what was powering his still semi-asleep mind.  All the things that could be wrong flitted through his mind in rapid fire succession.  If she was seriously ill, he didn’t know what he would do.  You were several hours away, spending the night in a hotel after a night out and you had three children who couldn’t be left alone.

The light from the hallway spilled into the bedroom of your youngest child as Harry pushed through the doorway.  Her eyes were puffy and her face red from crying, tears making her hair stick the sides of her cheeks.  Her blankets were disheveled, like she had been tossing and turning.  She looked up at Harry and started crying even harder, crying out, “Daddy!” as Harry crossed the room in a few strides.

“Daddy’s here, baby girl,” he promised, sitting down on the side of the bed as he pulled her into his arms.  She wrapped her arms around his neck like a vice, like she was worried he would disappear from right in front of her, her body still shaking as she sobbed.  “I’ve got you,” he cooed as he reached over and turned on the lamp next to her bed.

“What’s wrong baby girl?” Harry asked, putting a hand to her forehead and then the side of her neck.  Once he was satisfied that she wasn’t running a fever, he felt at her arms, making sure there were no obvious injuries as his mind started to clear.  She was still crying, but he was more awake and calmer with her in his arms, knowing that she seemed to be physically fine.

After a few minutes of rocking her back and forth and whispering calmly to her, her sobs started to slow down as she hiccupped.  “Do you want to tell Daddy what’s wrong?” Harry asked softly, rubbing slow circles on her back as she loosened one arm long enough to wipe at her eyes and then slam it back into place around his neck.  There was a small mumble against his shoulder and he shifted so her mouth wasn’t against his pajama shirt.  “What was that, pumpkin?”

“You drowned!” she whimpered and started crying again.  The story came out like a dam had broken, though her words were often hard to decipher through her tears.  She described a nightmare where Harry was trying to swim to her and she was holding her hand out for him to grab it, but he could never reach.  She watched as her daddy fought to stay above the water but he stopped fighting after a while, even though she kept yelling at him.

Harry ran his hands over her hair as he kept rocking her.  She was so small, still his baby in so many ways.  She had nightmares from time to time, but for the most part her life was full of innocent imaginings.  She would often climb into his bed after a nightmare, but he had never seen her so terrified before in her short life.  Frozen in bed screaming because she thought her daddy was dead.

“Daddy’s fine,” he assured her.  “I never drowned, I promise.”  He shifted her around so he could see her face, but she still had an arm around his shoulder and her legs were draped over one side of his lap as he kept a firm arm around her.  Her face was still wet and red from crying and her eyes were bright, but once he brushed the hair from her cheeks she looked less tortured and more like his baby girl.  “You know Daddy’s a strong swimmer.  There’s no reason to be scared about Daddy drowning.”

She kept her eyes trained on his hand as she rubbed at the cross tattoo, fidgeting a little.  Something pricked at Harry’s instinct.  He knew his girl, she had no reason to really fear death of herself or anyone else.  “Pumpkin,” Harry said slowly, wiggling her softly.  “Did something make you think that Daddy was in danger of drowning?”  She shrugged softly but didn’t look up, Harry knew she wasn’t saying something.  “Sweetheart, is there something you want to tell Daddy?”

Very quietly, she muttered, “I watched you drown.”


Taking a deep breath, she replied, “Earlier, when our cousins were over, we watched you drown.”

Harry was quiet for a few minutes, gathering his thoughts.  One of the best lessons he had learned as a father was to try to never make accusations and to always be calm before confronting a problem.  “Did you watch the trailer for Daddy’s movie trailer?” he finally asked.  There was a small nod from his daughter.  None of his children were supposed to have seen it, but apparently when their cousins were over earlier some rules were broken and his youngest was now paying for it.  “Daddy knew it would scare you, that’s why he didn’t want you to see it, pumpkin.”

“It looked real,” she whispered, her lip wobbling again.

Harry sighed inwardly and pressed his lips to her hair.  “I know it did, pumpkin.  Daddy and everyone else worked really hard to make sure it seemed that way, but it wasn’t.  I was always safe and never in any danger.  I even called and talked to you when we were done filming that scene.  I told you all about those delicious scones on set, remember?”

She nodded against his shoulder, but he could tell she was still scared and unsure.  Carefully, Harry stood up, taking her with him as he carried her down the hall and into the master bedroom.  Once she was settled on the bed, he went and grabbed his phone from its charger and sat down next to her.  Opening it up, he scrolled through his pictures until he found ones from when he was shooting his film.

“See this?” he asked her as she scooted closer to look for herself.  “This was the day we were filming that bit.  Look at all of the people around Daddy.  They were all there to keep me safe.”  He scrolled through the pictures some more.  “See this?  I was never under the water for long.  They made sure I was always safe, just like I make sure you’re always safe.”

Her fingers were gripped tightly around his arm as he showed her more pictures from on set, even the ones that didn’t have anything to do with the part of the trailer that gave her nightmares.  He could tell she was relaxing and even though he was sad that she had been scared at all, he was grateful that she was still a Daddy’s girl, that she felt safe with him and trusted him.  He knew the days where he could calm her nightmares, or be asked to at all, were quickly coming up on him, but these small moments, where she was still his little girl, were special to him.

“If you want to,” he told her as he locked his phone, her eyes starting to flutter shut.  “Tomorrow I can tell you more about the story that Daddy’s movie is telling.  Would you like that?”  She nodded sleepily and Harry kissed her hair again, feeling his own eyes starting to get heavier.  He had no intention of telling her all the scary details, but he hoped that more age-appropriate understanding might be useful, especially if her older brothers and cousins were going to be showing her anyway.  “And when more trailers come out, Mommy and I will watch them with you, so we can explain anything scary that’s happening.  It’s not so scary when you know what’s happening, is it?”

As a response, she just curled up tighter into his side.  For a brief moment, Harry thought about carrying her back to her bed, but decided against it.  She was only going to be small for so much longer.  She could be safe next to him tonight.

Master List

Do You Ever

It’s just a ghost of a taste of an idea but it was something that’s been on my mind all week. This can be read as a prequel to my other Dad! Harry writings or on it’s own. xx! 

Harry had been a real sport all day and that’s why he was currently receiving the best backrub of his life (his words) sprawled out nearly naked in your shared bed. You’d almost had to drag him out of the house today, to a birthday party for the little boy you used to nanny when you were just out of college. Though of course, once Harry had gotten there he’d had fun and charmed the pants off everyone in the process. You’d had to almost drag him away from the table of aunts and grandmas that he was schmoozing with after cake had been served.

You rub the lavender oil deep into hidden knots in his overworked muscles while you straddle his back, smiling at the soft groans of appreciation he gives in response to your attentive hands.

“Do yeh ever think about kids?” he asks you suddenly, making your brow furrow in contemplation.

“In what context?” you ask warily, it’s not so early in your relationship that it’s odd for him to bring up but you’ve never had the conversation on the table.

“Like having ‘em,” is his half-mumbled explanation, nearly muffled by the pillow his face is so conveniently tucked into now.

“Well, yes… I mean of course, you know how much I love them,” you stumble over your words, not wanting to give away too much if it’s merely a question for questions sake.

But you know it’s not, not when he softly asks “W’me?” in a slightly nervous tone.

“Do you?” you deflect, mentally berating yourself for being so childish.

“Did,” he tells you, “Today. Seein’ yeh with them was….endearing.”

“Endearing, hm?” you tease at his wording, earning a grumble from him as he attempted to buck you off his back.

“You don’t ever think about babies with me, Love? Not even a passing thought?” he teases right back, but you can hear the underlying nerves, the fear of you rejecting him in the way his laugh is just a tad forced.

“I have a little,” you mumble, feeling unnecessary heat rising to your cheeks at your admission.

“What d’yeh think about? C’mon, let’s have it,” he huffs, tapping at your thigh to get you off him so he can roll and face you on the bed.

You pick at the sheets where your knees are bent, trying to formulate a proper response to his absurdly revealing question. Even though you love Harry, and he loves you, he’s never struck you as the type who’s dying to settle down, marry, and have babies. You don’t want to scare or overwhelm him with your fantasies. 

But of course you have, you can’t think of anything you’d want more than a tiny little baby with his big round eyes and deep set dimples. Not a thing in the world could make you happier than having a couple of mini Harry’s to love and squeeze on and fill your shared home with laughter and memories. 

Of course that’s all one day, not today and you tell him as much when you finally finish spilling your heart to him. Barely able to meet his eyes as you do so. But to your surprise when you finally meet them, his eyes are warm, intrigued, filled with something you can’t quite put a finger on.

“I want tha’ too,” he says softly, ringed fingers reaching out to stroke loving at your calf that rests nearest him, “The big house and the little bugs and you massively pregnant,” he giggles.

“You do?” you say, nearly in shock. You weren’t quite expecting this and your eyes well with some unexpected emotion.

“Course, Goose. Love yeh don’t I? And you’d be the best mum.”

“Oh Harry,” you whimper, flopping over to throw your arm around his neck and tuck your head in tyoure. He’s saying all the right things and you’re vulnerable and it makes you want to be impossibly nearer to him in that moment. He huffs a laugh through his nose as his arm winds around your waist to pull you closer, snaking a long leg through yours. He whispers soft, sweet nothings into your hairline as he holds you giving you time to get a hold of whatever emotion you were feeling until you can pull back to look at him once more.

“Did I scare yeh?” he goads, poking at your cheeks that you just can’t seem to stop from pulling into a wide smile. You shake your head and rub his back again, hoping to convey what you’re a little lost for words for at the moment.

Soft lips button over yours with intention, long drawn out passes of mouths that are sticky and perfectly puckered. Hands warm against the small of your back that rub comfortingly, making it nearly impossible to stop his prodding for you to open your lips, deepening the kiss as your leg hitches over his hip. His scent is nearly overpowering, even stronger than the essential oils you’d rubbed so dilligently into his now slippery back, making it hard for your searching fingers to find purchase enough to grip. Said fingers settle instead for the curls around his nape as you moan his name into his open mouth, feeling hands slip into your panties to grab a handful of your bum.

“Gonna make…such…pretty babies,” he breathes to you, between kisses that suck and nip at your straining jaw, bucking to feel pressure where your desire swirls low in your belly.

“Not now,” you admonish, lifting your hips just enough to allow him to pull your panties down your legs, kicking them off with impatient toes.

“Have to practice though, don’ we?” he smiles into your neck, “Lots and lots of practice.”

And you can’t really argue with that logic.

Worried Sick Part 2

This was quite rushed I’m afraid but I really wanted to get it done. Forgive me if you hate it. Masterlist is in the description or use one of the hashtags to see my past writing. Thank you for the request. Make sure you read Part 1 first.

You woke with a dull ache in your neck from the awkward position you had fell asleep in; sprawled over Harry’s torso, legs tangled with his, looking up at his face while he talks about the pros of another child, all while being in post-orgasm bliss. A smile crossed your face thinking about the conversation you shared before you had fallen into a peaceful slumber. Your thoughts were interrupted by Harry’s arm curling around your middle, pulling you towards him. You hissed at the pain it shot through your neck but he didn’t notice, it fading after couple seconds.

“Morning, handsome.” You ran your hand through his slightly greasy hair; he let out a little grunt in reply. You closed your eyes, absorbing the feeling of being in his arms, knowing what was coming in the near future. The memories of your eldest daughter and your beloved having a shouting match in the late hours of the night; or early hours of the morning, depending on how you look at it.

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Christmas shopping with Dad H

It’s very cold outside so you wear your thick winter coat and a knitted hat. Your hands are in gloves which rest on the buggy. 

Harry wears his black YSL coat and gloves too. His right hand is on your back as you stroll down the road. You look into the buggy. Your daughter is sleeping. She is wrapped up in thick rose blankets and her little hands are in knitted gloves. Her plushy sits beside her head and is watching while she’s sleeping. You look at Harry and he smiles.

“She looks so loving when she’s sleeping, but when she’s awake.” he raises his eyebrows. 

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Six Years Of Marriage And Two Kids Later...

Your youngest is in his high chair, his chubby hands grasping at the noodles on the tray. He messily stuffs the food into his mouth and babbles to his big sister, who watches him curiously. The high chair had been hers not too long ago; she’d only recently taken to demanding that she was a big girl and therefore didn’t need the “baby chair”.

“Mumma,” your daughter says quizzically.

“Yes, my love?” Is your response.

“Where did Jude come from?” She says it innocently, still watching her brother rub pasta sauce on his face and in his hair. You balk at the question and lift your eyes to Harry’s across the room. He looks like he may be in danger of passing out. Your daughter was almost five and had always been curious, but wasn’t she a tad young to ask about such things? You clear your throat.

“Jude came from mumma’s tummy, sweets. Just like you did.” You tap your finger to the end of her nose, going with some version of the truth, hoping she would accept it.

“But how did he get there?” She presses, eyebrows scrunched like her daddy does when he’s confused. Harry is biting his lips to suppress a chuckle and he raises his eyebrows at you before shaking his head and grinning.

“Well…” You start. “When a mummy meets a daddy, and they fall madly in love, the daddy gives the mummy a special seed that she plants in her belly to make a baby grow.”

“But that special seed,” Harry says, walking closer. “Isn’t given to a mummy until she’s at least 35.” It’s your turn to bite your lips to hide a chuckle and you shake your head at Harry. Your daughter takes a second to digest this before nodding her acceptance. “Right,” Harry says. “Bath time for one curious Miss Violet.” Harry picks up the little girl from behind and she squeals when he flips her upside down and carries her by her ankles. Harry winks at you and disappears down the hallway and it isn’t long before you hear the faucet running at chatter between daddy and daughter.

You look at your son, who babbles happily, not the least concerned about being covered in sauce. “Come on, you,” you say while unsnapping his bib and lifting him from the chair. “Shall we join your daddy and sister, huh?” You ask him. Jude puts a pudgy hand on your cheek with a wet smack in reply and you bounce him a bit in your arms.

When you reach the bathroom, you strip your son of his stained onsie and place him in the bath with his sister, who offers him a rubber duck. Harry swipes at the cheek Jude had put his hand on, clearing the pasta sauce from your skin. You nudge his shoulder with yours in acknowledgement and he smiles in response. Being with Harry like this, just you, him, and the kids you share, fills your heart with a joy you didn’t know you could feel. Since you’d had the kids, Harry had made the effort to be home more often, only doing local gigs and filming movies where he could commute back and forth.

When you push up the sleeves of Harry’s jumper you’re wearing and pick up the cloth doused with baby shampoo, Harry places his hand on your back and rubs absent minded circles. You clean Jude’s skin and hair, pulling faces at him and watching him smile. Violet laughs with her brother and starts making faces back. Harry removes his hand from your back and rinses Violet’s hair before adding detangler reaching for a towel. You pull the drain and take the towel Harry hands you, swathing your son as Harry wraps up your daughter.

“I reckon we have the most delicious baby-burritos in existence,” Harry says, mouthing at your daughter’s belly and making munching noises. Violet giggles and screams and Jude claps his hands and when you playfully bite at Jude’s neck and he cackles.

“I reckon so!” You exclaim.

Twenty minutes later, the nightlight is on, bedtime songs have been sung, both children are tucked into bed, and the kitchen is clean. You collapse onto the sofa next to Harry who is nursing a glass of wine. You take the glass from him and let the bold flavor of the wine coat your tongue before handing it back. “Good?” He asks.

“Mmm,” you make the sound in the back of your throat. Harry slings his arm around your shoulders and you snuggle into him while he presses his lips into your hair.

“D’you hear that?” Harry asks. Your eyes are closed and your fingers idly play with the necklaces around his neck.

“Hear what?” You ask.

“Silence,” he sighs and you chuckle quietly.

The idea pops into your head suddenly, and once it does, it’s all you can think of. Your lips find his neck and at first they just ghost across his skin. Harry shudders and you don’t miss the goosebumps that sprout from your breath. You feel a certain type of smug satisfaction that you can still affect him so. The arm around you tightens and you tip your head up, searching for his mouth. Harry’s mouth meets yours in a languid kiss. His tongue feels familiar, but no less delicious and when he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, you can’t help but moan.

“C’mere, baby,” Harry urges and you shift your body so you’re sitting astride his lap. Harry’s fingers slide down your sides before alternating between digging into your hips and kneading your behind, as if he can’t decide which part of you he wants to touch more while he nips and sucks at your throat. Your fingers thread through his hair and you tip your head to give him access. You hear the pitter patter of little feet before you see their owner, and disentangle yourself from Harry as quickly as possible.

“Mumma?” Violet asks sleepily, rubbing her knuckle against her eye. When your daughter comes into view, you can see her hair is matted on one side and her cheeks are tear stained. You struggle to control your breathing after the state Harry had worked you into.

“What’s wrong, love?” You ask, brushing her hair from her face. Violet clutches her stuffed elephant close to her chest.

“I had a bad dream.” Her chin is quivering and fresh tears are filling her eyes. Harry picks her up, cradling her to him. He wipes the tears from her face before asking if she wanted to talk about it. Violet shakes her head, saying that she needs daddy’s dream dust. Harry gives the little girl a smile, before lifting her and carrying her back to her room. You can just barely hear his low voice singing ‘bad dreams, bad dreams go away; good dreams, good dreams here to stay’. You know he’s wiggling his fingers in front of Violet’s face and you silently thank the lord for the episode of Grey’s Anatomy you’d learnt that from.

Harry comes back into the living room after a few minutes and instead of sitting back on the sofa with you, he offers you his hand. You let him pull you up and ask, “She okay?” Harry nods and pulls you towards the bedroom you share. He softly shuts the door behind you and asks, “Now, where were we?”

In no time at all, your back is against the door and your jumper is on the floor while Harry’s hand is sliding into your knickers. His fingers deftly swipe through the slick between your folds and he circles the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. “Always so fuckin’ wet for me, aren’t you?” He boasts.

When he slides one long, thick finger into you, you moan against this mouth. He adds another finger and pushes his thumb up to massage your clit. The stretch is delicious, and when you think you can’t take much more direct pressure to your sizzling nerves, Harry shifts his hand. When he taps against that spongy spot inside of you, your muscles clench down on his fingers and he groans in your ear. “You gonna come, love?” He asks before grazing his teeth on your earlobe. You pant Harry’s name and grasp at his back, not having enough clarity of mind to say anything but his name. When you hear Jude whimper over the baby monitor, you both freeze and hold your breath, waiting to see if your son needs you. After a few beats of silence, Harry starts to move his fingers against you again, curling them and twisting them inside of you, building you back up to the orgasm you were so close to.

“Come on, baby, hmm? Come for me. Let me feel that pussy of yours squeeze my fingers.” He nips at your jaw and your orgasm explodes from your core. Harry’s fingers slow, bringing you down gradually and you slump against him. When he withdraws his hand, he licks his fingers clean and moans around his fingers. “Christ you taste good,” he praises. He kisses you again and you can taste yourself on his tongue. “Bed,” he rasps and you nod.

In the few steps between the door to the bedroom and your king size bed, you both shed your clothes hastily and fall onto the mattress in a tangle of limbs. Harry grinds his length against you in a gentle tease. He brushes the head of him against your folds and angles his hips to tuck the first few inches of his cock into your heat. You instinctively widen your legs and tip your hips up in a silent plea for him to enter you fully and when he does, you gasp in unison. Harry grinds his hips against you at first, before slowly rocking back and forth.

“Harry,” you sigh. When your heels dig into his lower back he picks up speed. His hips swivel and circle and fuck, it feels so good. He fills you exquisitely, like he was made to be inside of you. You can feel every vein and ridge on his cock and your hips begin to rotate in time with his.

“Fuck, baby,” Harry curses. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” His lips suck at your neck, sure to leave a mark.

“H-Harry, I’m - fuck.” You gasp out. He’s proper fucking you now, his hips slamming into yours and pelvic bone rubbing against your clit. He strokes THAT spot inside of you and your back snaps up from the mattress. “Do that again,” you beg. He hits that spot over and over until you’re shaking and scoring his back with your nails. When you come, your vision goes starry and you feel a gush of wetness on your thighs.

“Good girl,” Harry pants. “Coming so hard, you fuckin’ soak me, hmm?” His eyes are closed and his head is tipped back and he’s rapidly approaching his own orgasm. You clench down on his cock again and he hisses, his thrusts get sloppier until he’s jutting completely out of rhythm. Harry comes with thick, hot streams deep inside of you and you can feel his body tremble long after his orgasm subsides.

He presses a kiss to your sweaty shoulder before rolling off of you and tucking you into his side. “6 years of marriage and two kids later and we’ve still got it, eh?” Harry says once he can speak normally, wagging his eyebrows at you suggestively. You laugh at your goofball of a husband and nuzzle in closer. “Love you, baby” you say into his chest. Harry’s arms tighten around you before he responds with an “I love you more.”

You can tell me whatever you want,
you can show me millions of babies,
you can hire how many beards you like, but I won’t care.
I’ll always show you Harry and Louis holding hands and anything else will matter.