Harry Styles Imagines

Try

[Try]
©Nouis_Strikes_Again

·---·

Negative.

Harry looked over the test before throwing it across the wall and squatting in frustration.

A month. It's been a damn month with sex four times a week and still no result of success.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Harry yelled tugging his hair as you had sat quietly on the side of your bed.

You had sex against the walls all over the house; the shower, the kitchen, dining room, couch, bedroom, bathroom, spare room and even in the car.

Yet you still weren't with a child.

And it was getting to you.

Is there something wrong with me?

Your thoughts which you did not want to redeem true, fired up again to reason why you still weren't pregnant. It was you. You were the reason why you couldn't give Harry a family.

"I-I'm sor-ry!" You sobbed holding your face in your hands as Harry snapped his head up, instantly regretting what he said.

"Kitten, no." He came over and sat beside you before pulling you into him. "We..." he sighed. "We can't give up-"

"T-there's no choi-ice!" You yelled, angrier at yourself than ever. Harry sat silent as his hand stroked along your hair before he too let a loose tear slip.

Instantly he wiped it away.

"Maybe," he tightly shut his eyes, "we should... a-accept that fact that we won't, become parents..."

Looking up, the disappointment was clear in his eyes. He wanted this family so badly and you were just as eager to give it to him.

So why wasn't it working?

"One more time..." you mumbled sitting up to straighten yourself.

"What?" Harry looked down as you turned to him before sitting on his lap.

"Let's give this one more shot." You growled through angry tears. "Fuck me for hours Harry. Keep going until you physically can't anymore."

He blinked back wide eyed at you as your hands ran through his hair.

"B-baby-"

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes for us." Your hands unbuttoned his half undone shirt.

Harry watched you glare angrily at his buttons through blurry eyes as he swallowed down and quietly cracked his neck.

This is the last shot.

Make it count.

Without a second thought, Harry took your thighs in his hold before standing up and throwing you on the bed.

"One last time." He whispered crawling up your body as your legs wrapped around him to pull him closer. "For the baby." He pecked your lips already undoing your jeans.

"For the baby."

. . .

You were officially sore.

It was a late Friday night and you sat impatiently in the lounge room with Harry; staring at that damn pregnancy test on the coffee table.

Harry's hands were tightly bound with yours as he kept his face on your shoulder.

You threw up this morning around early hours and Harry grew excited; he thought you both might have actually done it.

A loud alarm tore the silence from Harry's phone as he took it and shut it off.