mh harry

His First. (A Dirty Harry Styles One Shot)

- In which Harry is a bit.. inexperienced in the bedroom.

Harry thought he could hide it. He thought he could get away with it. But, when everything came to him so all of a sudden, he realized that he was trapped, and the only way to get out, was by telling the truth. 

And so he did.

“What?” you ask breathlessly, your hands at the mid of Harry’s patterned shirt, fingers frozen on the buttons, pulling the colorful fabric away from his tall and lanky form.

“I-I’m.. yeh are my first.”

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Eric’s 36th birthday

Okay so this is something I cooked up, sitting here in tears and sobbing hysterically. I thought it would be nice to get a little glimpse of what Eric’s life could have turned out to be. So this is playing in the future where you and Eric are married with children. Enjoy … or don’t. I’m such a mess right now that I can’t even worry whether this is good or not, I’ll continue crying anyway. It might be a bit too long though, sorry I got carried away once more.

!ALSO! This is an addition to an imagine I wrote already. It’s about meeting Eric at Rampart Range. SO this is 18 years later kind of thing, it would help to read the other imagine first but you don’t have to. If you want to just type in ‘meeting eric at rampart range’! You should find it pretty quickly :)

Today was Sunday and also Eric’s birthday. You were already busy in the kitchen since 7 a.m. Your littlest one Valerie had decided a few days ago that she didn’t want to eat ‘all the cute animals’ anymore, having an early phase of vegetarianism. However she did not understand that her beloved salami was also made out of meat no matter how often you and Eric tried to explain to her. Anyway, here you stood, cooking two different meals, one with meat and one for Valerie and baked a cake.

Valerie had been Eric’s choice. At first he wanted to name your children Mickey and Mallory. He and Dylan swooned over that damn movie Natural born killers and you didn’t have a problem with that but naming your children Mickey and Mallory? You had have some heated debates about those names and that night Eric had slept on the couch.

When your now 7 year old boy Jonathan was born Eric allowed you to name him after your father who died one month before because of cancer and could not get to know his grandson. Valerie came two years after Jonathan and the pregnancy was a wild ride. You had so many complications and she even came two months earlier by abdominal delivery. The doctor told Eric that she would likely not survive while you had still not woken up from your anesthesia. Eric was allowed to see her that night to say goodbye and named her Valerie because it meant power and strong-willed. And since then Valerie had shown exactly these traits. She survived that night and the two month stay in the hospital afterwards.

“Didn’t I tell you not to apply that much effort today?”

Eric gave you a quick good morning kiss on the forehead and regarded the mess in the kitchen.

“Why are you already awake, you shouldn’t be awake!”

You asked him nervously, trying to shield the cake from his view. You had decorated it with everything Eric liked. Computers, movies, your children, his former dog Sparky, his car, his friends and you even put a ‘R’ on it for Rammstein but you could not spell it full because of the children that would be present that day.

You heard the sound of the coffee brewer and the rattling of cups, meaning that Eric was taking his morning coffe and you decided to fnish the cake later since he would sit down now and read the newspaper like every morning. You watched as he began to clean the kitchen.

“You are always making such a big deal out of birthdays.”

He mumbled while he trashed countless packagings of flour and chocolate icing. You sighed and took his coffee, placed it on the table and forced him to sit down. Eric growled in protest but you wouldn’t endure him and his constent mania for cleaning right now.

“Are the children already awake?”

“Jonathan yes. Valerie is still sleeping like a log.”

He answered and began to read the newspaper but that did not stop him from watching you warily as you cleaned up.

“Don’t be so grumpy, it’s your birthday!”

You said and bowed down to kiss him briefly on the cheek.

“You mean one more year on the scale and three more lines on my face.”

You laughed and took the newspaper out of his hands, placing it on the table while you sat down on his lap.

“Oh I think you are still very much handsome Mister!”

Eric smiled and perked his eyebrows up.

“Mh Mrs. Harris. I can only reciprocate that. You look so hot covered in chocolate icing and dough.”

You giggled and leaned in to kiss him. Eric took one of your legs and hooked it over his closed ones so that you were straddling him properly. Moments like this were so rarely considering you both had two little children and Eric his full-time job at the marines. It was already a miracle when you were able to spend two seconds alone. You sighed as Eric opened your mouth with his tongue and softly dug his fingers in your hips, pulling you closer to his crotch.

“Mom! Jonathan won’t let me use the bathroom!”

You sudddenly heard a little scream and tiny footsteps down the stairs. You groaned in frustration and Eric sighed disappointed as you stood up. A tiny and angry Valerie stumbled into the kitchen.

“I need to pee and Jonathan won’t open the bathroom!”

She said and stamped her foot.

“Okay come on. We’ll talk to your brother.”

Eric said and easily threw the 5 year old toddler over his shoulder. You watched with a smile as your husband carried your daughter lovingly away, wondering how in earth you had deserved this life before the microwave rang and reminded you of the chocolate icing for the cake.

Eventually Eric managed to smooth down differences between your children so that Valerie could pee and even dressed them before they came down the stairs, squeaking happily.

“When’s Dylan coming over?”

You asked while setting the table.

“I don’t know, he, Robyn and Ivy are stuck in a traffic jam. By the way they asked me to be the godfather of their son.”

Eric and Dylan were swooning over their kids long before they hadn’t even been born. They always talked about marrying them off to each other and stuff like that. You were already Ivy’s godmother, Robyn was Valerie’s and Dylan was Jonathan’s godfather. Now Eric would be the godfather to the second boy of your clique.

“They know it’s a boy? I thought they wanted to wait until birth with the gender reveal.”

You said slightly confused but still happy for Eric and Dylan that it was a boy. Now their whole marriage concept would work out perfectly, at least in their unrealistic fantasy.

“Yes, Dylan told me yesterday. They couldn’t wait anymore.”

A little while later everyone arrived at short intervals. First came Kathy and Wayne and your parents. Kevin and Lydia came with their children Kathleen and David. Not shortly after the bell rang again and you opened the door to Dylan and a severe pregnant Robyn accompanied by their daughter Ivy. Your children were already screeching happilly when they saw their cousins and Ivy. The last one to arrive was Brooks.

It was pure chaos. Birthday parties always were. Jonathan had pushed Ivy so that the little girl started crying hysterically and Dylan tried his best to calm his daughter while Eric gave Jonathan a warning. Then Valerie threw a temper tantrum because everyone else was eating meat and she couldn’t understand that everyone could decide for themselves what to eat.

And so it was obvious that you were glad when you could escape that little Armageddon in there, by leaving the house for a second and went onto the terrace. It was cold but pleasant, typical weather for April. You walked until the end of the terrace, having a beautiful view over Littleton. To be honest, you would have never thought that Eric and you would stay here when you married but this town here meant so much to the both of you. You met here at Rampart Range, had have the most hilarious days in school together and practically developed your relationship here.

You turned around quickly when you heard the sudden noise from inside, watching as Eric slid the glass terrace door open before he closed it again and shut out the noise coming from inside. He walked over to you with a smile on his lips and a blanket in his hands. You smiled as he gently wrapped it around your shoulders. 15 years of marriage and he still treated you like the first day you both met when he gave you his shirt to sit on.

“What are the children doing?”

You asked and Eric pulled you back slightly so that you were leaning against his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

“They keep my brother, Brooks and Dylan busy.”

He grinned and you both laughed. You sighed happily and relaxed into Eric’s strong grip. There was nothing that let you feel more at ease than having him near you. You both stood there for a few minutes, just silently starring into the clear night sky. You felt like you both were 18 again.

“Do you remember that day at Rampart Range? When you left me the note in my jacket and told me to meet you there? We watched the stars back then like we do now.”

You said and could not opress a smile at the memory.


Eric said, remembering what you had said about the stars that night.

“I could never forget that day. I don’t know how my life would have turned out to be if you wouldn’t have shown up but I know I’d rather die tomorrow than never have gotten the chance to know you. You saved me from a lot of things.”

“Oh yeah like that plan Dylan and you had to shoot up our school?”

You asked and Eric nodded.

“Yes, thank god we didn’t go through with that.”

He said chuckling. You grasped his hand and brought it to your mouth, pressing a kiss to the back.

“Happy 36th birthday Eric.”

You said and looked over your shoulder back at him in the dim moonlight before you leaned in to kiss him.

“And let’s hope there are a lot more to come!”

Eric smiled at you.

“Thank you babe. As long as you are by my side through all this years I’m okay with 50 more birthdays.”

You laughed and were pleasently surprised when no child suddenly screamed or ran outside to disturb you both like usually. It was one of this rare moments that you wished would last forever. You knew it wouldn’t but you would enjoy it to the fullest.


reblog/like if you’re a blog that is active and posts one or more of the following (pls):

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Still Beating (Part 19)

For previous parts click here. Today is Monday…the last part will be posted this Friday! Thanks so much for reading! x

Time passes. Each second that ticks by seems slower than the one before it. But it does pass. Mornings turn to afternoons and afternoons turn to nights. The next morning comes and it repeats. It feels like I’ve hardly left my room all week. I haven’t been going to work and Liam and Maggie have been covering for me. I only go to the classes that I know I need to be there to make notes and I come straight back after.

The day following the incident I didn’t leave my bed. Harry’s calls and texts became infrequent but they never stopped. He still calls once a day and I still leave it unanswered.

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neverland-city  asked:

Imagine Harry feeling low and he's asking you to play with his hair. So his head is in your lap or maybe you're laying down and it's rested on your chest and your fingers are wrapped around his locks and your lightly twisting them and kissing the top of his head and his cheeks and humming his favorite song. All while some tv show like chopped or something is running in the background

This is all I want. Like, I have many thoughts shared about playing with Harry’s hair on my blog. I bet my life and my cats I don’t have, that he has the softest hair. I bet it smells like rainbows and butterflies and unicorns.

His eyes are rolling back when you lightly scratch the back of his head, his head shaking a bit under your touch.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it, love?” you ask him, and he looks up to you, eyes half lidded and a crooked smile on his lips.


And Harry starts slowly drifting to sleep, right there in your lap. Soon, quiet snores and wheezes leave his lips, and he nuzzles his face against you, making it hard for you to move even the slightest bit, because you know,

that you’re never supposed to wake up a sleeping baby.

Christmas Week, Day 6: AU where Harry has older siblings and they cheer him up because he is having a sexual crisis, for anon.


Harry paced around the garden at the Burrow, growling and muttering things to himself as he bend down every ten seconds to make a snowball and throw it roughly at the trees. He rolled his eyes when he heard the sound of laughter increasing and footsteps towards him.

“Oi, Harry!” A tall, shoulder length black haired and green eyed boy called after him.

“Go away, Charles.” Harry said without turning around.

“Oh my God, Harry! Look!” A girl cried.

“What??” he shouted as he spun around to face his twin siblings, only to be hit on the face by a slowball.

The twins burst out laughing, both split in two.

“Ahahahah shut the fuck up!” Harry shouted angrily, wiping the ice off his face.

“What’s wrong, baby brother? Did you forget how to laugh?” The pretty auburn haired girl with her mother’s eyes said, snickering.

“It’s just that you’re not really funny, Mary.” He snapped.

“Wow, someone’s frustrated.” Charles smirked. “Got some troubles getting off, Harry?” he said as he grabbed him by his neck and rubbed the top of his head.

“Leave me alone, will you??” Harry shouted as he pushed his brother away. “Why don’t you go cut your hair or something, Charles?”

“Yeah Charlie, it’ll never be as gorgeous as uncle Sirius’ anyway…” She said dreamily.

“Maybe,” Charles said with dignity as he fixed his silky black mane. “But you’ll never be gorgeous enough to catch his attention either.” He smirked.

She scoffed.

“Just give it sometime, I’ll have him wrapped around my finger.” She said confidently.

“Err you guys are like 20 years apart from each other? I mean, doesn’t it bother you the slightest?”

“Love has no age, Charles.” She said wisely.

While they argued, Harry had caught the sight of one Ginny Weasley, reading at her window. He sighed.

“Hey Harry,” Charles called after a while. “Harry?”

“Mh?” Harry finally answered, snapped out of his thoughts.

“What’s wrong?” Mary asked, concerned.

Harry sighed.

“I don’t know, I think… I think I like her.” He said, looking back up at Ginny.

“What’s sad about it?”

“Mary, this is the saddest thing ever.” Charles said, patting Harry’s shoulder dramatically. “Our little brother is cock-blocked by his best friend!”

“The fact that Harry is Ron best friend doesn’t mean he can’t fall in love with Ron’s little sister!” Mary said, folding her eyes.

“Hello!” Charles said, snapping his fingers at Mary’s face. “This is Harry we’re talking about, not you and your undying love for Dad’s best friend!”

“Yeah well it’s exactly the same.” She said angrily.

Charles rolled his eyes and turned to face Harry.

“One brotherly advice, Harry.” He said, dropping both of his hands on his younger brother’s shoulders. “When you kiss her, use your teeth. She loves it.” he said, a smirk stretching across his lips.

Harry’s jaw dropped to the snowy grass.


Charles laughed loudly as he was being chased by Harry, as Mary supported them both, cheering excitedly.

I drew a sketch of Rusty’s ( @he-got-the-dagger-tho ) babies. Kim, MH (Mini Harry), Freckles, and the “twins.”

This, of course, is head cannon. I pictured the youngest two being at a private grade school while Kim would be at a University while MH and Freckles are in high school. 

An MH-60S Knighthawk helicopter assigned to the “Dragon Whales” of Helicopter Combat Support Squadron Eight (HSC-28), flies between USS Harry S Truman and the Military Sealift Command ammunition ship USNS Mount Bakercarrying a load of bombs, while conducting a vertical replenishment (VERTREP).

Photo: Photographer’s Mate 2nd Class John L. Beeman/DoD via Wikipedia

As someone who is a general fan of Jekyll and Hyde and not just a fan of MH’s boys; FF has made me really curious about how MH would portray ol’ Harry and Ed. I mean, they’d probably leave out the murder, but would the original Hyde be blue? Would they be younger? Would Hyde be tall? (Please no.) Pull the old ‘identical grandson’ trope? Who knows.