harry styles one shots

clover (single dad!h)

harry is a newly single father to a brand new baby and he doesn't know what he's doing. going home for the summer, he didn't expect to find himself a new kind of honey named (y/n).

this is a patreon exclusive piece, this first part being the only publicly available part. a link to my patreon is in my bio.

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June.

That used to be Harry's favorite month until it became the name of his whole world.

She was a December baby named after the peak of summer—his idea. He'd always loved the colors of the berries and the flowers that bloomed at the end of the month—something sweeter than strawberries, even—tinting the sky and the air that filtered all around him. That was all he could think about the second he held his baby girl in his arms, dressed in hospital scrubs and a thin, ice-blue cap covering his hair. He saw her through distorted vision, his gaze warped by the tears rimming his waterline. All he could do was let out a strangled breath, the air having to move around the lump of his heart in his throat.

It was the most overwhelming moment of his life.

Despite the way she was still covered in stick and the world she knew before joining his, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. She had her mother's chin and the shape of her rounded lips, but she had his eyes and nose. She was his baby, it was clear. Clear like the dewy summer mornings in his youth, when he would race outside to play with his friends. Clear like the prickling taste of watermelon rinds when he'd bite just a little too far past the pink of the flesh. It was clear that he was going to love her for the rest of his existence—and then some—like the reflections on the bottom of a pool.

She was his June.

While his baby girl—June, he remembers thinking so fondly—was getting cleaned up, swaddled and eased into her new world with the help of the birthing team, Harry was able to make it official.

June Clover Styles.

His last name scrawled across the paper to punctuate her existence, right above where he was put down as her father. Nothing could have prepared him for the pride he felt looking at the certificate in his hand. He was her dad.

Those quiet moments when he was finally able to really hold her, a little pastel striped hat tucked over her head and a blanket swaddling her form, everything melted away. In that second it was way too easy to forget the fact that she was just on the brink of being considered premature, brought into the world exactly three weeks before her due date, with the size to prove it. For those measured paces it was like her premature status wasn't due to the fact that he and her mother—who was sleeping off the delivery only feet away—were on the rocks for the entirety of the pregnancy.

He didn't see any of the complications between the mother of his child and himself when he held the product of all of his love and affection in his arms. He sat in blissful ignorance. It was a bubble he wished he clung onto just a little tighter, kept around himself and June for just a little while longer.

But as Harry learned the hard way, all bubbles pop into prismatic shards at some point, no matter the lengths you go to keep it safe. He got his bubble for a little over two months before it was burst.

Carolyn—June's mom—was at one point, who Harry considered to be the love of his life. He saw the white picket fence, the kids, and the powder blue home when he looked into her eyes back then. Every once in a while he swore he could pick out the stills of that imagined life if he really searched for them, but after June came into the world, it was like they were erased completely.