Harry Styles Imagines

You Have A Bad Sex Life

From harry-writings Tumblr
_____________________

"Hey babe." I greet Harry, taking off my heels and placing them in the closet.
Harry smiles at me, placing a small kiss on my lips. He rubs his eyes after, letting out an obnoxious yawn. Tears of exhaustion fill his eyes, out of his control.
"Awe, honey, why don't we go to bed, huh?" I question, placing loose strands of hair behind his ear.
He nods, smiling slightly as he took my hand, holding it in his as he guides me to the bedroom.
Once we enter our room, we start to replace our current clothes with pajamas. As Harry lifts up his shirt, I can't help but stare at his body. The way his muscles move so delicately, and the way his hands caress the fabric of his shirt in his fisted hands as he places it in the dirty hamper. I can't help but stare, I haven't touched him in nearly two months. Every time I try to make love to him, he always brushes me off as if I were nothing, claiming that he's tired or not in the mood for it. This has been strange to me for the past couple of months, considering he would always be in the mood. He used to make every excuse to touch me, feel me, hold me, make love to me. But now, none of those are his desires, and I don't know why.
Sighing, I make my way to the bed, laying on my side as I waited patiently for Harry to take his spot next to me.
I catch myself still staring, and I quickly shake my head, trying to push the desires away.
Once he got changed, he took the empty space next to me, turning his back towards me before turning off the lamp on his night stand. He nuzzles the side of his face in the pillow, lifting the covers up until they reach his chest.
Frowning, I keep steady on my back, looking up at the ceiling. I sigh loudly, trying to relax myself, but I can't. I am too attracted to him to keep my hands away, and I knew that it shouldn't be like that if we are engaged.
"Harry?" I ask, turning toward his back.
I run my fingers along his spine, and I can feel the chills that arise on his skin against mine. I draw patterns on his back, spelling our names, making hearts, anything and everything upon his inked skin.
"Hm?" He hums.
"Make love to me." I whisper, closing my eyes, silently praying that he would go through with the idea.
He groans, pushing his shoulder back, making my hand slip away from his body. He moves farther away from me, shaking his head, still not turning his body.
"Y/n, no. Not tonight, alright? I'm tired and have to work tomorrow."
My heart drops at his statement, and I begin to realize that maybe, he will never show his love to me again. Maybe, he doesn't love me the way he used to before. Something in him has changed. Whatever it is, it has changed for me. He doesn't see me the way he used to. He doesn't see me as a lover, or a fiancé. He sees me as someone to stay with. He sees me as someone who won't make him feel lonely.
"You're not sexually attracted to me the way you used to be, are you?" I whisper.
Harry doesn't answer, but his body stiffens.
"This marriage won't work if you don't see me as attractive, Harry. This can't work." I state, trying desperately for him to answer me.
But he stays silent; mute.
Tears fill my eyes, sadness consuming me as I nod my head.
I push myself off the bed, grabbing the extra couple of pillows before stomping out of the room. The most frustrating thing about the situation are my bodily desires. I am still craving his touch, his love. I am still craving the feeling of sex, since I've had a lack of it for too long.
Making my way into the guest bedroom, that is right across the hall from Harry and I's, I shut the door before entering the room.
I place the extra pillows on the bed, just the way to make me sit up in a comfortable position. I have been doing this way too often, pleasuring myself, but this has been the only way I could feel something.
Sighing, I begin to pull down my pajama shorts and underwear. My movements were slow, halfhearted, because this was never enough for me. I need Harry, he's the only man to satisfy me. Doing things like this to myself has never been the same, and I'm beginning to believe that even I will give up on myself, just like the way he gave up on me.
I slowly placed my fingers on my folds, rubbing up and down on them, applying a soft pressure. I let out a breathy moan, immediately attaching my fingers to my clit. I squeal, as quietly as I can. I tighten my lips together, moaning with a closed mouth, just so Harry didn't hear what I'm doing to myself.
With one thumb attached to my clit, I place my free hand on my inner thigh, caressing the wet skin. I begin to place my fingers inside myself, slowly pumping my fingers in and out.
"Oh shit" I moan out.
"Oh shit"
I twist my fingers, pump them, rub my thumb in figure eights, circles, repeat.
As I was nearing my climax, nearing my edge, I feel a hand pull my fingers away from myself. My moans come to a halt, my eyes opening and staring at Harry in complete shock.
He looked sad, yet concerned. As if he didn't understand what I was doing. Before I could speak, his lips meet passionately against mine.
His hand slithered behind my head, massaging my scalp with his soft finger tips. I almost pushed him away from me. I almost punched his chest repeatedly, asking why it had to be like this. But I couldn't. I had missed him and needed him too much to push him away.
"I love you. I'm sorry. I love you." Harry whispers, reaching the hand that was holding onto my waist down to his boxers, pushing them down.
"You are so special to me. I'm sorry."
He kisses me again, soft and gentle, full of love and lust. He pushes his body more against mine, and before I knew it, he was making love to me.
He was moving slowly, so passionately and delicate. I could feel his heat radiating off of his body onto mine. He was kissing me, always rubbing his skin on mine, rubbing his lips against mine, giving me all of him.
I had missed this all too much, and it hadn't hit me until now just how much I have. A sob ripped through me, my hand clutching onto my mouth in order to prevent more from escaping.
"Sh sh sh. I'm sorry. I love you, baby. I know. I'm sorry." He kept repeating.
It was then when we reached our climaxes. Our moans increasing its sound as they bounced off of the walls.
Harry sighed, slipping out of me.
"I'm so sorry. How often do you do this? Fuck, I am awful. I'm so awful. I'm horrible. I love you so much. I'm sorry."
With tears still piling in my eyes, I shook my head.
"Stop it. It's okay. Can we just, can we just work on this a little more? We can get through this, right?"
He smiled, leaning down to kiss me one more time.
"We can get through anything, my love."