Harrison Osterfield Imagines

Stuck on You

1st Person POV

After fours years of being married to Harrison, he finally got his dream home. Together, we wanted to live close to London, but not too close and not too far away. He also wanted to be in driving distance of Tom and his family, those were his only two requirements.

Then we agreed on designing the house, I would do the inside and he would do the outside. Some things he got to help me with inside like painting the walls grey and moving furniture around.

After three months of working on our house, we finally got it done. Each room in the house is painted grey with little knickknacks scattered around, most of Batman, and I was even able to put up pictures along the walls. Harrison adores our pictures the most.

In the front yard, Harrison did some landscaping by planting bushes and tall plants along the house. The backyard is another story. Harrison went all out back there with stone pathways, a larger patio, and my personal favorite, a hammock.

This morning I was reading a book my best friend told to me read, minding my own business in the living room. All of the sudden, Haz came in through the kitchen and picked me up from the couch just so we could lay in the finished hammock together. That was fun though.

My body is snuggled right next to him on the hammock with his body under mine and my head on his chest. He didn't say a single word to me during any of this, all he did was breath quietly and play with the ring on my finger. The ring he married me with.

"Hey, Hazza," I whisper quietly to him. He hums in response as my fingers graze his chest ever so slightly, at least I know he's listening to me and not sleeping. There's already been too many times where he's done that to me. "I'm making pasta for dinner tonight, but are you doing anything afterwards with Tom or Tuwaine?"

Harrison yawns into my hair, "Tom is spending the evening with his brothers and Tuwaine has some acting thing to do. I'm all yours tonight."

"Great, you are helping me with dishes."

A loud groan erupts from inside of Harrison. It makes me laugh. He probably expected to have a night full of cuddling and light making out, not cleaning with his wife. The last thing Haz wants to do is any more cleaning, he loves just lounging around his new house.

"Will you make me the swirly pasta for dinner then, not the stringy ones, those ones suck," he whines at me. I don't think we even own stringy pasta just because Harrison hates it so much, but I'm sure there's swirly pasta somewhere. The only pasta we have is swirly and bow ties anyways.

"I will make you swirly pasta for dinner," I laugh lightly. Harrison huffs in response before snuggling closer to me in the hammock.

We spent at least thirty minutes swinging silently, but I had to get up to use the bathroom. Instead of going back outside, I want tiny sandwiches for me and Haz to enjoy outside. I ate my sandwich in one of our lawn chairs while Haz sat in the floor below me. A couple time I've caught him trying to steal my sandwich, which I'm not happy about, but I got him back by taking his phone. Not so fun now, is it Osterfield?

For the rest of the afternoon, Harrison and I sat back on the hammock, except this time, I got to read while he kept taking pictures of me. He also posted a little on Instagram, texted a few friends, sent a couple of email, and other things that I wasn't paying attention to.

From out of nowhere, a snore escapes from Harrison's mouth. I didn't even think he fell asleep, because just seconds ago, his hand was running though my hair. I continue to read my book for a while longer, but I end up falling asleep on top of Haz.

"Y/N, Y/N wake up," I hear in my sleep. It takes me a couple of seconds to register that Harrison is talking to me and poking at my face. "I'm really hungry, can we start making dinner?"

I shake my head against his chest, "no, I'm too comfy right now to go make dinner. Plus, we just had lunch minutes ago."

"Sweetheart," Harrison laughs, rubbing the side of my arms and kissing my head. "We have been sleeping for the last five hours, it is dinner time now."

"Well shit."

My stomach began to grumble once I got up from the hammock. Harrison rushes into the kitchen to get out the ingredients for pasta and prepare the pot to boil water. I haven't even made it inside our house yet to make dinner!

The entire time making dinner, Harrison is trying to help me. Usually, he doesn't stand in the kitchen when I make food, but he claims that he is "learning from the best" to prove to Harry that he is the better chef. I think we all know who the best chef is. Me.

From the corner of my eye, I see Harrison leaning over the pasta sauce and sticking his fingers into the bowl. "Harrison Osterfield, take your nasty fingers out of the sauce." I tell off Harrison and continue to stir the noodles boiling in the water. He tries to get away with eating another finger lick of sauce, but the death glare I give him made him think otherwise.

Eating dinner made me tired again. The only thing that keeps me awake is the smell from the kitchen sink, something in there really smells. Harrison only notices it when he puts his bowl in the sink, and it looks like it really bothers him.

"I'll unload the dishwasher and you rinse them off in the sink?" I ask, placing my own bowl in the sink as he stares down the mess before him. Harrison sighs and nods his head in disappointment. "I know, Darling, I hate doing the dishes too. The faster we get them done, the faster we can watch Netflix."

I pat Harrison on the back a couple of times to give him some encouragement to get moving, because I don't know about him, but I want to watch Netflix. I start off with removing all the silverware from the dishwasher and placing them in the drawer they belong in. It didn't take long, but by the time I got done doing it, Harrison hasn't rinsed any of the dishes.

"What are you doing?" I ask my husband, who is groaning and stomping his foot on the ground. Definitely not the first time I've seen him act like this, but very weird to do this at this time of the day.

"My wedding band is stuck on my finger and I don't want to loose it while washing dishes." His body turns towards me and I see his right hang tugging on his left ring finger, which is turning a bit red.

"Okay, okay, stop pulling on your finger or you are going to dislocate it!" I rush towards him and take his left hand into my hands. "Have you tried spitting on it or running it under hot water?"

"Y/N, I'm not going to spit on my band," Harrison pulls his hand back from me and turns on the hot water. He hates it when I'm right about things. I watch him start to tug on the band again under the hot water, and it isn't even budging. "Look, it is not working."

"I see that, Haz, what do you want to me do? Try butter? Look up stuff in the internet?" I place my hands on my hips and stare at him until he gives me a response. The first attempt he wants to try is with the butter in the fridge. He immediately didn't like it. The butter is "too slimy and cold" on his finger. Too bad. It is working better than the hot water as well. I am able to get the wedding band off his finger and onto a towel to clean off all the butter.

"That bloody hurt," Harrison whines, rubbing the throbbing part of his finger. "I don't think I can eat butter again."

"Come on, it wasn't that bad you big baby," I tease, placing the band on the counter away from the sink. "We can go to the jewelry shop tomorrow and see if we can size up your ring. We don't want another butter incident to happen again."

"No, we don't."