Harry styles imagines.

Marriage dry spell.

So, when you think of a marriage between you and the love of your life, I'm assuming you think, passion, fire, a burning desire for each other that never fizzles out. Breakfast in bed, laughs and serious talks and petty arguments, lazy days, date nights, the whole jazz band.

I'm perfectly sure you don't think of a wok invested husband who barely has time for you anymore, not just for you, but for your body either.

Well, that's exactly the sort of thing that crosses my mind when somebody mentions my marriage with Harry. Why? Because that's the harsh reality unfortunately. We say our usual 'I love you's'  every day and night, I still love him like I did 2 years ago when he proposed. Nothing has changed, yet everything has changed.

Now, when you think of a slightly dry spell between you and your husband, you think of maybe a week? Two, three weeks? Not 4 months. Am I right? I think I am.

"Harry? Baby, you've been on that computer for hours, come to bed?" I pout softly as I lean against the door frame watching my husband typing away on his Mac hurriedly with what I like to call his 'CEO head' on. I don't particularly like when he has this head on because he can be snappy, irritable and doesn't mind wether he's speaking to his pesky assistant or his loving wife.

"One minute," he says distractedly before I hear a little ping of success from the computer and he sighs finally logging off. I can tell he looks tired but I'm planning to put my foot down, this dry spell has gone on long enough and I have needs, needs he has deprived me off for much too long.

His lack of interest in that department is worrying and not exactly a stroke to my ego or self confidence either, I mean, I fear I'm loosing whatever charm I possessed.

So we trudged to bed with hands loosely interlinked and as soon as he went to go and do his night time routine and since I had already done them, I quickly pulled off my tank top and shorts and left on the sexy lingerie I had been adorning today. I lay down in bed innocently with the covers over me so hopefully when he goes to crawl into bed he'll get a nice surprise.

When he finally crawled into bed in just boxers his mouth fell open at the sight with raised eyebrows. I was about to smirk before he just lay downin his side of the bed casually.

"Baby, it's autumn. You'll catch a cold," He said reffering to my barely there outfit. My mouth parted in exasperation but no words came out. What on earth? Am I really that unattractive that me being half naked doesn't even stir anything in my husband? It was almost like he didn't see anything, like my body doesn't have any effect on him.

"I'll live." I mutter with disappointment before turning over in a huff and laying awake for most of the night.

+

As the morning sun shines, I'm still as determined as yesterday, although there was a minor setback which has made me refer to my plan B which is pretty straightforward and risqué.

So I peel back the covers still dressed the way I was last night as I watch Harry watch TV on our bed before he gets up for breakfast. I smirk as I crawl in front of him blocking bs vision.

"Babe, I can't see." He says nodding his head to the TV, I almost roll my eyes but refrain.

"I've missed you Harry. ." I purr seductively as I run my hands up his thighs massaging them as I go. I have one goal as of right now.

"I haven't gone anywhere." He responds ignoring my actions completely. Right then.

I rest my palm over his manhood in his boxers stroking it with enough pressure to make him loose it completely, although he doesn't.

"Baby, really. I'm not in the mood." He denies pushing my hand away gently, I frown with annoyance, he's never in the fucking mood anymore.

So I ignore him and tug his boxers down to begin stroking his warm length, I make a fist and pump a little, I even suck on the tip but. . Nothing. He stays limp in my hands completely not turned on and I can't wrap my head around why.

When your wife is on her knees about to give you a blow job I think a normal man would get hard as a rock, I mean, harry used to get hard incredibly easily. I could be wearing a dress and he'd have to dash to the bathroom to relieve himself but now I'm half naked and sucking on him but nothing!

I back away with red cheeks and stinging eyes with enough humiliation to last me a lifetime.

"Baby, I told you, I'm not in the mood. I'm sorry." He says, his eyes soft as he senses the hurt and embarrassment.

I can't even get my own husband hard. I don't understand what's wrong with me? Am I unattractive to him now?

I scramble away from the bed holding back tears and into the bathroom slamming the door behind me as I sink onto the floor with sobs racking my body.

Harry doesn't find my attractive anymore. Wait! Does that mean. . He doesn't love me anymore?

A/N:

Do you wanna kill me?
Spare me pls? I'm sorry I've taken agesssss, but college started and it's been busy and I've been trying to get my other fanfics up and running -- which you should check out btw!

I love you all, thanks for being so patient with me! Please comment and vote! I love comments!

X be nice to someone I love !