harry styles blurbs

new parents

you and harry are learning the ropes as new parents

word count: <1000

warnings: none again, just cuteness

"Babe?"

Harry comes hurtling through the door in record speed, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a slight wet patch on his tummy where he'd been leaning against the bath previously.

"Yeah? You okay? Is she okay?" He asks frantically, eyes bouncing between you and your beautiful baby girl perched in a bathing chair in the bath, you leaning over the side with your hair gathered in a clip and soap suds on your face. You find yourself giggling at his flustered behaviour, him trying his utmost best to be the most attentive and protective father on the planet...so it fills your heart with adoration when you see him panic over a simple call of his pet name.

"Harry, love...it's okay." You chuckle slightly, one hand leaving the side of the bath to grasp his large ringless hand (he'd insisted on taking his rings off when you both bathed your daughter, not wanting to catch her with the metal).

"I got scared." He blew out a breath, his semi-grown out hair falling over his forehead haphazardly. His hand now envelopes yours and squeezes, his eyes still trained on the sight before him. His radiant wife and the bundle of joy she'd given him.

"'Needed you to grab summat for me, but I don't mind getting it...watch your child, Styles." You give him a fake stern look and he smirks, dropping back to his knees after kissing your cheek and swishing his hands in the water below her feet.

Emerging from the bathroom and grabbing the infant towel in quick time, you're stopped in your tracks when you walk into the bathroom and hear your daughter's toothless premature giggle and see your husband's mop of curly hair...absolutely saturated with suds and water.

"So...I leave you for two minutes, and our daughter has already started to bully you?" You suppress a laugh, Harry's unamused face dripping with water glancing your way as you step closer towards the bath.

"Feisty one, she is. Just like her mum." He mutters, turning to his daughter and feigning a baby voice, "aren't you?" he coos, the baby mirroring his sounds in humour.

"Oi." You give him a look, pretending to scold him like you playfully would in your relationship when he was getting a bit too cheeky. Harry knew you too well to think that you were being serious - him throwing a wink and a signature grin at you over his shoulder and wrapping his hand around your forearm.

You find yourself carrying your child out of the bath and readying her for bed in no time, Harry hovering and helping every so often, his hair still dripping and his shirt still that awkward dampness that kind of clings to your skin.

As soon as she into her cot, you turn to your husband, dragging him out of the room and into the bathroom, grabbing a clean towel from the hamper and tossing it over his head, a laugh breaking out of your mouth at the childishness you both harboured when your actual child was asleep.

"Nice one." He huffs, the towel muffling his speech, yet you still see his shoulders move in laughter. Your hands reach up to his head and dry his hair with the towel, his face peaking through every so often and his radiant smile beaming at you with nothing but adoration in its wake. You lower the towel, pecking him gently on the lips, trailing it to the mole on his cheek and back to his mouth where he captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

His hand reaches your chin as he cradles it carefully, the other un-clipping your hair and weaving through the knots. He breaks away, eyes as though they're trying to look into you, and you feel your cheeks tinge. His cheeks tinge a deeper shade and he whispers in the space between you both.

"I love you so much." He mumbles, and you feel your chest ache at his inability to fall out of love with you. It just seems as the days go by he falls madder and madder, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Hm." You hum, your own hands weaving through his curly hair to match his.

"I love you. I love our daughter. You've given me a family, and I couldn't thank you more." His sentiment is a little heavier this time and your start to feel the tears creeping up your tear ducts.

"You're my other half, Harry. I genuinely don't think I could love something or someone more than I do you and her." You say wistfully, creeping past the dryness in your throat.

His throat constricts and you see his eyes well, the most genuine and heart-wrenching smile you've ever seen adorning his face. His eyes drop to your mouth before he kisses you feverishly, hands now grabbing your waist needily.

"Harry, we need to tidy up." You laugh between kisses, him huffing a laugh with you.

"How about we go and make another baby?" He mumbles into your mouth and you cackle loudly, shoving his shoulder and catching his award winning smile. Harry's youthfulness never left his face, even as he grew out of his teenage years, and you're thankful to have been able to see him grow up. His hair remains the same beautiful wave, his skin more sun-worn, but smooth and clear as ever. His eyes never lost their spark either, and you get to see them in both him and now your tiny little girl, and you thank god everyday she didn't inherit your eyes.

"Behave, mister. Get that damp shirt off and into the washing basket." you peck him one last time and saunter off with a grin, his face reflecting your cheeky expression.

"I love it when you tell me what to do."