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whitemancumslut · 4 months

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Temporary Fix (18+)

summary During the On the Road Again Tour, Harry uses his bandmate’s girlfriend as a distraction from his previous relationship.

warnings (18+) cheating!reader, possessive!longhair!harry, talks of explicit photos of reader, smut, whole thing is unprotected sex, rough sex, mentions of drugs (no actual drug use), fingering, cum eating

It all started with a late night in Boston.

Sitting on Harry’s hotel bed, his tall long haired figure sat, head held down.

You and Liam had a very bad disagreement so when dramatically stormed out you headed to Harry’s hotel room… only to find him in distress.

"It’s just-" He shook his head, curls swaying side to side, just wanting to get the thought of gripping them as he devoured your cunt out of your head whist this moment passed.

"She drove me fucking crazy," He expressed angrily, his accented voice grumbling. Your soft fingers caressed the back of his left one, lighting him up like hot coal. His voice of anger, deep and agitated, oddly turning you on. Clenching your thighs together as you comforted him. "Harry I’m so-" This was closer than you guys have ever been since the sexual tension built or since ever. You both knew you shouldn’t be here… this close to him.

You traced the prominent veins in the back of his hand as you thought about how you were somehow calming his nerves. Somehow yours too. Before coming into Harry’s room, you stormed out on Liam after a very long last disagreement. You never told him where you were heading but may he never assume it was to his bandmate, hand in hand.

"You need a distraction. Something to use until you get over this bitch," You told him lowly. Slowly leaning towards the suggestion you wanted to get to, you sighed. Harry just shook his head, "Y/n please-" He didn’t make any effort to move his hand away from yours.

Both of your knees touching, sending enough friction into you to lift the left hand of his you caressed. Laying the large palm upon your large bare thigh, laying it down right where your short skirt ended. Feeling instant warmth, Harry’s mouth falls agape before letting his nails pick your fabric. Mixed emotions filled his featured. Confusion with a devilish smirk growing.

"Use me."

Shocking you both with how the random wave of confidence and now anticipation filled your flesh. "Y/n," He warned. But not in a 'stop' tone it was more 'you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into' tone. Your breath hitched. If you were thinking straight you would apologized and leave like this never happened but you were both too deep to turn back. Your hand hesitantly made its way to his face. The soft palm of yours met his jawline, fingers reaching his long soft hair, shocking you both that you’re going this far. "Use me," Caressing his cheek you continued, "As a distraction," The way he was looking at you made you want to jump on him. His pink lips twitched, hesitating to smirk.

The room was all of a sudden silent. You took it upon yourself, to stand up and step in front of him. Harry’s head turnt up to keep eye contact He didn’t know what was happening but he wasn’t complaining. Taking a step forward, placing your hands on his shoulders. His shoulder get a nice squeeze from your fingers before some played with the curls in the back of his head. Harry slowly raised his hands his hands and placed them on the back of your bare thighs, pushing you into the space between his thighs. "What are you saying? You saying you want me to- What? Tell me, pretty," His voice husky, making your tummy do backflips. Hiding a little school girl giggle that’ll make you seem pathetic, you scrunched your skirt up.

Harry’s eyes pry down from your eyes to your bare thighs at were exposed. He closed his legs a bit, knowing your plan, allowing you to set yourself on his lap. Calves resting on either side of his thigh, you pressed your core against him. "Take all your emotions out on me. When your angry, upset, irritated… happy." Your hands meet the back of his head, two fingers running through the tight curls in his head.

His smirk grew, "Do you know what you’re asking for, love? Willing to let me have you?"

"Well, you’re going to have to share me remember?" You teased, smiling, quickly peaking down to look at his pink lips. "I don’t like sharing," He grumbled, pressing his hands to your lower back, pushing you closer to his figure. When he looked down to your peaking cleavage and your bare thighs beneath, his breath hitched. "But I guess I’ll have to, hmm?"

"Mhm," You hummed in your sweet, delicate voice. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips against his. All of the tension finally broken. When you kissed it was like a bolt of electricity.

He tasted the mango flavored lip balm on your soft lips, getting a long lasting taste when his tongue collides with yours. His hands trail lower, down to your ass. The skirt’s fabric making it impossible for him to the get full satisfaction… not that he wasn’t happy with what he was receiving. Heads moving side to side as the kiss grew sloppy. You wrapped your lips around his tongue, sliding it out of your mouth. Breaths uneven, soon to be caught. "Let’s get this off baby." Baby.Your stomach turns and suddenly you forget all about your boyfriend who is just a couple of rooms down from the one you were making out with his bandmate in.

You nod in response, obeying his request. Pulling up your shirt over your head with Harry’s assistance. When your shirt was thrown somewhere across the room his eyes flung to your cleavage. As if it was two sizes too small, your boobs practically spilled out the bra like they were being suffocated. Didn’t even have to tell you, you pushed your skirt off as well leaving you in your black panties. "Oh my fuck. God you’re perfect," He huffed out, attaching his swollen lips back to yours.

Sliding his large hands up to harshly grope your breast, you gasp against his lips. He groaned against you when you accidentally grind against his hard. Reattaching your lips with his as Harry’s hands unclasp your bra from behind. The cold air hardens your nipples, a whimper shakily leaves your lips as you bump your body against his clothed chest. He pulls away from your face to look at your boobs, taking them in his large hands. "Shit," Harry curses under his breath. "Lay down for me baby," He releases his grip on your breast allowing you to place yourself on the bed.

Laying out on the cold sheets, your boobs recoil as you breathed heavily. Harry crawls so that he’s between your thighs. "Fucking shit, baby. You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you look laid out in front of me. I haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re already looking hot and fucked out. God Liam is a lucky fella," He couldn’t stop staring at your tits. The more he stared the more you wanted his touch.

"Harry touch me please," You swarmed when he began to crawl closer. Without answering, he passed you a devilish smirk before going tongue first and pressing a hard kiss against your lips. You moaned into his mouth, tasting him as he tasted you. Your hand meeting his long hair that dangled and tickled the side of your face. He pulled away but not letting you go a second without satisfaction. He placed burning hot kisses on to your neck. Teeth brushing pass your skin feverishly as he left wet sloppy kisses on your skin with a little sucking in between.

"N-no- God, right there," You moaned and whimpered as he continue to find your spot around your collarbone. "N-no marks, Harry," You told him with your strained voice. His lack of response tells you he didn’t hear you. "Harry-"

"I know what I’m doing, love."

Was all he said.

His tongue was hot against your stomach as he pressed kisses down to your core. "Harry, please," You whined.

Harry stared at your cunt through the now see through panties. You were so soaked that you can now see your aching cunt. Cursing under his breath, Harry slides your panties off watching your cunt come to color. "My cunt now," He claimed lowly. "Ye’ hear me baby girl?"

"Yes," Your voice was whiny. So wanting him to just fuck you already and skip the foreplay.

"What I say?"

"Your cunt now." Can you please- Harry," You whined. Swarming in front of him, he forcefully held your down with his arms weight in his wrist. "What you want, gorgeous, hmm? My mouth?"

You hummed a desperate yes as you peaked down at him. He runs his hands through his long hair before letting his nose brush against your bare cunt. "Oh, oh-" Harry licks up your slit before wrapping his plumped lips around your aching clit. Letting out an unholy moan and scream combined along with an unbearable whine. "Oh my god!" Harry sucked on your nub hard as you grabbed at the top of his head, practically pushing his head into your cunt.

Harry’s tongue lays around along your cunt sliding down your slit, leaving your swollen clit throbbing. Harry doesn’t let himself neglect your clit. Instead, he places his thumb in replace of his mouth, pressing down and rubbing in a circular motion as his tongue enters your pussy. "Oh my fucking-! Harry, Harry, Harry," You moan his name, praying you were too loud, or to the point people recognized your voice. But you didn’t care.

Harry hummed against your pussy making your legs shake and thighs clenched. Shaking his head as he devoured your cunt tasting your wetness on his tongue. You mewled lowly, trying to gain self control. "Yeah, you know I love them pretty noises, baby. But ye’ can’t be too loud. Your boyfriend’s down the-" Shutting him up and bringing him back down to your cunt. Understanding the message to shut up, Harry thrusted his tongue into you. Curling inside you, his tongue twisted in turned, your moans music to his ears.

Shooting the top of your body up as a shock ran through your body and to your thighs. "Oh my god, oh my god," Your voice shakes just as your thighs. Shock through your body when he hums, amused by your unholy sounds. The muscles in your tummy tightened as Harry pushed his tongue deeper in you getting to feel your walls clench as much as he fucking could. You were so close. "My clit, my clit. Harry, please, fuck," You pleaded for the same affection he gave to your hole to your clit. "Mmh kay baby," He did as you wanted and sucked your clit harder and harder. His lips must’ve looked so pretty sucking on your swollen nub.

Your body began to shake as you feel yourself getting worked up. "I’m cumming, I’m going to cum. Harry," You called out for him as your thighs shakes against the sheets as you let them collapse.

"I got you baby. Cum f’me, I got you," The words comforted you as you experienced your high. Your chest rises heavily as the knot in your stomach consisted as you released the ooz from throbbing cunt. You huffed out, breath hitching in your throat when you feel Harry’s tongue at the rim of your hole. Not letting the cum go to waste, eating his cause as you mewled weakly.

"Taste so fucking sweet, baby."

He came up from between your legs to get a good view of your face. Your breathing still uneven and your expression is still in disbelief.

"You look so hot," He said hovering over your trembling body. Resting his left palm on the side of your head where some strands of your hair laid upon the white bedsheets and his other hand met the opposite side’s breast. You hissed as he pinched your nipple ever so lightly. So sensitive to touch, you whine his name. "Want me to fuck you, baby?" Your eyes widen. You immediately wanting more of what he has to offer. Your cunt still recovering from your previous orgasm.

"Yes please. That’s exactly what I want, Harry. Please, yes. Fuck me. Please, just fuck me already. I’m on the pill, just fuck me please," You spoke fast. The words spilled out like they’ve been built up for forever. Harry’s smirk grew as big as it can get. "’M gonna give ye’ what ye want, pretty. ‘Cause you deserve it, ye’?" You nodded. "Been such a good girl f‘ me. Let me devour your pretty pink cunt till you let the whole hotel know my name, huh?" Cocky little shit. And it was hot.

Harry crawled back and off the bed. You’d never past up the opportunity to see Harry strip. Resting on your elbows, catching him in the middle of the process of eliminating his shirt. Your tummy turns at the sight of the hidden tattoos that you admire whenever you possibly can.

He looks up at you as you practically drool over the belt of his pants being knocked somewhere in the room. He tugged down his skinny jeans, that added 2x the amount of pressure against his hard, enlarged cock. Removing the pants and being left in his briefs.

The large indent in his briefs and the breed of precum that tinted the color of the briefs makes you swallow harshly. Harry pulls down the briefs, feeling instant relief when his cock is set free, slapping against his stomach. It was big.

Almost wanting to go jumping at it and shove it balls deep in your mouth if possible.

He was really big. A raging thick vein spread out around his cock. His pink mushroom headed tip had a tear of precum dripping on it’s sides. "Oh my god," You gulped. Throwing your head back wondering how that was going to actually fucking destroy your pussy you would have no way to lie to your boyfriend about this.

Harry smirked crawling over you. And you soon realized his hair wasn’t dangling in his face and that he somehow managed to tie it up without you realizing. "I’m going to fuck this cunt so bad. Can’t wait to have you clenching around my fat cock like you did my tongue, hmm?"

You nodded leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours. "Just do it," You knew he was going to spread your cunt into two.

"Ready?"

You nodded, reassuring him you were ready. Harry let his cock slide down your folds, the hard tip making you whimper. Harry slides his tip in, immediately stretching your hole. Earning a tiny whimper from you and a full out scream when he pushes himself half way inside of you. Your pussy cries for justice as his cock isn’t even fully buried. "Oh my god! Please, fuck! More, Harry, do it," You moaned.

Harry took your words and pulled himself to the point where he was at your entrance, tip still in. Harry slammed himself full length, balls deep into your cunt. You mewled loudly, tears escaping the hold of the lids. You cried out his name as he thrusted in and out of you.

"God baby. You’re so fucking pretty when you cry. Feels good?" He thrusted into you roughly, his balls slapping against your skin.

"F-Feels so fucking g-good, Harry. Oh my gosh! I feel you, it feels so good," You cried. "Where does it feel good baby? Tell me, hmm?"

You looked down and laid your palm on your core to your mid stomach. "Right here. You’re so deep in me. Feels like you’re in my tummy," You moaned. Harry’s thrust continued, he groaned loudly when your cunt clenched around his dick. Throwing his head back, Harry stretched your leg along with him. When he came to look at you, he laid his large hot palm against your stomach, pressing down. "Right here?"

"Y-yea. Right there."

It was like a heart beating hardly in your stomach. He kept pounding into you as moans and whimpers were being muffled in your mouth. "God. Bet Liam can’t fuck you like this, hmm angel?" You shook your head, "N-no." You’ve never felt this full. Your hole was stretched larger than it’s ever been. It hurt like shit but it felt so good. "I’ve been waiting so long to stuff such a tight cunt."

"I’m going to use you like the little whore you are," The degrading words sending a whirl on your tummy and you moan in response. "Please," You moan as you run into the brink of your second orgasm. "I’m so so so close."

How were you going to walk the next morning?

Ever since that night in Boston, he did as you said and used you. How you managed to get up that morning and work through the pain was above you both. But the agreement stayed. Whatever it was… quick fucks in the bathroom, a hard slow sensual neck kiss, an accidental rub against the thigh, he found a way to get near you. Just to touch you. After that night, you were like a drug. He was addicted to you. Harry couldn’t help but grow very possessive over you. Harry knew that he was going to have to share you. And shit, did it bug him whenever he has seen you two getting way too comfortable in front of him. Getting very angry whenever he sees you being close and cuddly with Liam. Whenever you can’t tend to him because you’re tending to Liam.

Even after a week and a half of the arrangement, Harry had watched as Liam had his hands just a couple of inches away from your ass as you placed a soft peck against his lips. You guys were sitting at the end of the lounge couch. You curled up in Liam’s side as he rested his palm against your lower back. He kissed you and you practically held back a gagged. You couldn’t help but grow a bitter taste in your mouth whenever he kissed you now that Harry was in the picture. Knowing Harry was observing every little thing you did with Liam and adding on for reasons to punish you later. Just the night before, Harry had claimed you as his. You still had the bruise on your ass and the marks on your core that gave the certification. He made you his, and only his. Maybe it was in the moment but he knew that you being just his wasn’t so possible with your current relationship status. But he was making it work. He swore he better not catch you with any marks from Liam, or any news that you fucked him. Or you would be in for it. When you’d look over at him and his long hair is being swung to one side and he has that mean look on his face. You would know when he’s feeling antsy or jealous when his nose flares and he does that eyebrow raise. His face would say, "Wait for tonight," and you’d gulp down in embarrassment, completely flushed.

When you both began to get very comfortable with the arrangement, one day, you took it upon yourself to send Harry some explicit photos of you. Photos of you half naked in the mirror. Cleavage, unbearable, against your chest, your body in view just enough to rile him up.

Harry Holy shit

Harry DID YOU JUST GET OUT THE SHOWER??

Harry ???

Y/n Going in the shower now

Harry Facetime me please

Harry Y/n pick up your phone

Harry Y/n that fucking photo

Harry You’re fucking thighs should be fucking wrapped around my head suffocating me right now

Harry You’re so fucking thick and pretty baby god

Smiling when you see his name popping up to FaceTime for the second time now, declining.

Y/n Can’t FaceTime right now. He’s sleeping.

Y/n I would answer but YOU don’t know how to stay quiet

Harry I’ll be quiet

Harry I promise

Harry Just answer baby please

You answered. How could you deny a "Baby please"? It was tempting not to just run over to his room and have him fuck you senseless.

Harry’s text would get really amusing to watch coming through your phone. The amount of times he needed you when you were tending to Liam is endless.

Harry Come to my room now, angel

Harry Come to me now

Harry Baby

Your personal favorite text is when he couldn’t control himself. When he needed you so bad his text began to get really specific in needs.

Harry So hard thinking about you. Can you come down to my room now? I don’t want to wait all tonight.

Harry Your ass looks so perfect in those shorts baby. So fucking hot

Harry Didn’t get the chance to say how much i loved your outfit.

Harry Your boobs look amazing.

You You were staring?🤨

Harry When am I not? I always stare at you baby

Harry Just a quick fuck right now

Harry Come on.

Harry Let’s go

Harry where the fuck are you

Shoving you into the bathroom, mouth instantly meeting your neck to place a harsh, kiss with the softest lips you can ever experience to your smooth skin. Harry anomalistically leaves hot kisses and marks of his tongue on your neck. "So what? Too busy fucking him to answer your bloody phone, huh?" His voice deep and raspy. Turning you around, untucking your white top from your skirt.

"I’m- I’m sorry." You whimpered, biting back the smirk that was growing as he manhandled you. The thought of getting caught with his bandmate’s girlfriend definitely startled Harry, don’t get him wrong. He was a big name and just one little thing or one big thing like this could fuck up his reputation. It was sneaky, and you liked it. Harry groped your large breast roughly, "Turn around," You did as told. "You know you’re not sorry. Too busy being a little cheating slut," His words making you moan and curse that him calling you such a degrading word made your core turn. The sound of his belt metal slapping and swinging around made your body shake as you were swung over the bathroom sink.

Harry slides your skirt up, a low groan leaving his throat at the view of your naked cunt. "Shit, no panties today? Who’d you do this for, hmm?" Harry ran his middle finger between your slick folds feeling warmth, spreading your wetness along your cunt as you dropped. "All for you, H." Harry grinned. "Having your bare cunt out f’me? Such a fucking slut. My little whore, is that right baby?"

"Y-y-yeah. I’m your whore," You arched your back holding on to the edge of the counter for leverage, Harry's fingers pound into you. His thick index and middle finger thrust into you, clenching around him instantly. Your hole still stretched from the night before and your walls suffocating his fingers like they were in a chokehold, making him groan as he began to move them in a ‘come hither’ motion. "Oh my god," You hissed out holding your mouth and muffling your devilish mewl. "Please, please. Faster, H. Faster," You got what you requested. Harry’s fingers moved faster and faster in you. Once again, it was like a little beat in your stomach. Harry knew how to make you feel things you’ve never felt before when sexually active, and you couldn’t be more grateful he had a mouth and fingers of a god.

"God you’re clenching around my fingers. I wish we had some more time so I could bury my cock in there." You whined, "Please. Fuck me, please," Your hooded eyes looked at him through the mirror hung in front of you. He hovers behind you, his fingers still thrusting, his lips adjusted above your ear. Pressing a gentle kiss against it, he whispers, "As if I didn’t split you and your tight cunt into two last night. Wasn’t enough, hmm?"

"No, no. Please- Fuck," You cried quietly, squeezing your legs together as your stomach tightened. "Oh fuck fuck fuck," The more you cursed the faster he went. Kissing down your neck and pressing himself against you. "You know I can’t fuck you right here baby. But god don’t you feel so good," He purred looking up in the mirror to see you completely blissed out. Mouth hung open, eyes clothed shut. He slapped his palm against your hip activating your weak legs.

Times like those were the times Harry could only squeeze in so little time with you.

It was rare for you to text Harry for a fuck. The main reason you would have texted him was when you and Liam had a another disagreement that turned into something more than what it should’ve.

Y/n Where are you right now? Are you in your room???

Harry Yes

Not so long after that, Liam arrives at Harry’s hotel room door. "Have ye’ seen Y/n? I can’t find ha’" Liam panicked. Harry put on a phony act.

"Uh- I think she was heading down stairs. She sounded pretty upset early. I think she said she was going on a walk to clear her mind before we had rehearsal. Y’all got into it, huh?"

"Ye’ I fucked up, mate. I really did," Liam shook his head before Harry wished him good luck on finding you and ran down to the hotel’s floor elevator. As for Harry, he shut the door and turned around to see spread out across his bed. Naked and ready to be his first meal of the day.

Having your phone on "Do Not Disturb" all day and sliding down on his text was your way of hiding his text. Some days you’d silence his text completely.

Harry Okay, can you unmute my text now

You you’re unmuted

Harry Thank you. Meet me in 20

You Sure

Harry Wasn’t a question.

Harry did not care. He was so reckless with the text. Knowing Liam was so trusting of you and your loyalty, he texted so freely.

Times when Harry felt it was time to soften his dominance were sometimes your favorite.

Harry I need to see you right now

Harry Quickie??????????

You A very very quick one

Harry Thanks love

You Harry. I’m not playing. Quick!

Was not quick.

At one point you and Liam’s relationship wasn’t going well. Having you to get your own hotel room instead of share because you needed space and also a way to sneak out to see Harry some nights.

You got out of Harry’s bed throwing on your bra and panties before he could complain. But it was too late. "Y/nnnnn," He whined out. His morning voice was deep and groggy. When you turned around to look at him, he was shirtless against the bed’s headboard. Harry in a man-bun but loose strands everywhere from his reckless sleeping. Harry admired your body, "You know…" He began and you let out a loud exaggerated sigh.

Harry rolled his eyes spinning his legs over the bed and walking over to your half naked body. Holding on to your waist. "I didn’t know this sharing stuff would be hard. I know we’re just fucking as a distraction to my failed love life but I don’t like sharing." You snort out a laugh at his comment about his love life and look up at him to see his dead serious expression.

"I-Well- You don’t have to worry about that much longer, H. Promise," You told him and his eyes widen. "Are you breaking up with him?" Harry’s voice was low like there was another soul in the room and you gave him a little giggle in response.

"Not for you. Don’t get cocky," You teased lightly, only a partial lie. "But yeah. I just feel like it’s bound to happen. So don’t worry, you’d get me all to yourself in no time," Wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing his bare chest, his breath hitched. "Mmh, you’re just perfect, aren’t you?"

After that morning, Harry couldn’t get the fact that you were officially breaking up with Liam out of his head. Harry grew more passionate in the arrangement and that wasn’t the plan. He wouldn’t say he caught feelings but definitely got more affectionate and all sex turned into some meaningful kisses that were never spoken upon.

TEMPORARY FIX PART TWO SNEAK PEAK HERE!

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erodasfishtacos · 9 months

Text

MANCHESTER NIGHT TWO

prompt: Harry is having his ‘adjustment day’ and everyone has to suffer with him

word count: 7k+

warnings: smut, blood, minors dni 18+

i write for FREE - I am also trying to steer away from paetron so everyone can have access my stories - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

*thanks to @ladylazarus98 and @fallon-carrington123 for inspo 😙

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it! (this is what motivates me to continue writing)!

*** <- click for visuals throughout the story

As stated before, like clockwork, a couple dates into tour - Harry gets crabby beyond belief.

It’s been happening since the Up All Night Tour.

Give it just a few shows until his body starts to catch up and then he has to get back into the routine which takes some adjustment.

He’s also hasn’t had a stage this big for his tour since One Direction days and now he has a whole stadium to prance around in.

Tour means drastically less sleep, a thousand more pounds of pressure on his shoulders each day, extreme amounts of exhaustion from his actual show, and less time for anything but performing.

Harry has always managed to juggle all these things pretty well except for his sporadic bouts of crabbiness and just overall poor mood.

YN had been used to those for every tour, just waiting for the day to hit, sometimes it was the second tour day and then other times it was the seventh.

It turns out to be his fourth, if you’re including his set at the summer ball in wembley stadium.

Last night, Harry had been so utterly drained from his performance in his hometown that they hadn’t done anything but go to sleep after the show with very little spoken because he was still so overstimulated from everything that day.

YN is up earlier than him which is unusual, he definitely wasn’t fancying a workout after that show last night, he deserved a lay in.

They were staying with Anne, not the same home Harry grew up in but still warm and cozy - with many touches of mum that she knew he missed.

Anne is out to breakfast with a group of her friends, the house is quiet as YN fixes herself a cup of chai tea and sits on a chaise that over looks the well maintained garden.

Nearly an hour later, YN hears slow, heavy footsteps from behind her then a graveling grumbling, “Morning.”

YN already knew, just by the greeting that today was the day but she always had hope that she was wrong though she rarely ever is.

When she turns to look over her shoulder, she sees her husband in just his briefs, hair going every which way, and his face is still puffy from sleep - he looked adorable.

“Come have a cuddle,” YN offers, patting the spot next to her, normally, he would have curled right in next to her and they would have stayed there for a long while.

Harry’s face twists up before he’s shaking his head, “Don’t want a cuddle, I want a coffee. My mum doesn’t have the bloody oat creamer I need. Now I’m shit out of luck, I guess.”

YN wants to roll her eyes at him because the pout on his face is absolutely ridiculous and the way his shoulders are tensed up is dramatic.

“Well, we can go to the market and get some,” YN suggests the obvious option even though she really didn’t want to go through Harry being noticed out in public.

There wasn’t much time before Harry would have to be at the stadium which is still about forty-five minutes away from his mum’s house.

“Fine,” Harry huffs out before turning on his heel to go get dressed, feet still heavy and irritated as they drag against the hardwood floors.

YN knew by now not to personalize it, not to get her feelings hurt because that only made it worse - she tried to avoid any type of confrontation on these days because feeding into the negativity is what he wants - wants others to be in a foul mood like he is.

He returns back downstairs in a low-key outfit of a hoodie, running shorts, and tennis shoes with a beanie and sunglasses - people knew he was in the area, they were going to be on the lookout for him.

YN was already dressed in a pleasing hoodie and leggings, pulling her own hood up and slipping on a pair of sunglasses as well.

Harry’s quiet during the ride into town, his hand on her thigh but he doesn’t say anything and she doesn’t push him - he can get so overwhelmed and overstimulated that it can take a whole day for him to reset.

They’re in the small market, in the dairy aisle, and find a similar enough container of oat creamer that he can use for his coffee.

“Do you think I have enough time for a nap-“ Harry begins to ask quietly as they walk out of the shop after checking out but is cut off by screams.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry mutters under his breath as he noticed a large flock of fans that had formed outside while they were shopping.

Harry doesn’t stop for any pictures, tries his best to acknowledge the fans without stopping to greet them because he just doesn’t have the energy for it.

Despite his grumpiness, he’s always a good husband, pulling YN close to his side as he begins to try to nicely push his way through the group of screaming fans.

“Bloody eight in the morning,” Harry hisses in irritation as they get jostled around by the mass of pushing bodies.

YN feels a sharp pain shoot through her Achilles when someone accidentally steps on the back of her heel with their heavy combat boot.

“Ow! Harry,” YN gasps in surprise as she pauses where she’s standing and squeezing her eyes shut as she tries not to panic - it can get overwhelming so fast.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Harry asks urgently in concern, eyes hardening when he sees the back of her foot bleeding from a scrape - it wasn’t serious but it was preventable and looked like it hurt like hell.

Harry manages to keep a level head but his voice is loud and booming, “Everyone needs to step back. You just made my wife bleed. Give her space for Christ’s sake!”

He’s not yelling but it’s firm enough that everyone takes a step back with surprised eyes at his tone that he rarely ever used with the public.

Harry wraps his arm tightly around YN’s shoulder as he hustles them towards the car, quick as he whips open her door and helps her in - blood pooling in her sandal as it drips.

When he revs up the engine of his Range Rover, the crowd steps back a bit to give him space to peel out of the car park, he’s shaking his head angrily as he goes well over double the speed limit.

He’s quiet again, getting a good bit of distance between them and the market before he’s pulling over at a small empty playground and shoving it into park before he’s out of the car once again.

Harry is opening her door and gently reaching for her ankle, brows furrowed and an angry grimace on his face that highlight the dark circles under his eyes.

“What happened?” He asks as he examines the cut with careful movements, thumb caressing her ankle bone.

“Someone was too close behind me, stepped on my heel with their boot,” YN yelps when he prods at the sensitive skin around the wound and tries to yank her foot away but he grips it firmly.

“Sorry,” Harry apologizes roughly as he steps away to open to boot of the car - scrounging around until he comes back with a water bottle and one of his clean tee shirts from the cleaners which he picked up yesterday, “This might sting a bit.”

YN’s hand grips the handle on the door and squeezing when he begins to pour water over the cut and wipe the dirt from the shoe away with his shirt.

It wasn’t the end of the world but it sure as hurt.

Harry then rips the shirt, without a care that it was an expensive cotton tee from Alessandro himself, and wraps it around her ankle in a makeshift wrap.

YN leans forward after he’s done, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissing him softly despite how stiff he is, he kisses back.

“Thank you, best husband,” She murmurs against his lips but he actually scoffs and takes a step back, a stormy expression still on his face.

“Yeah, really the best husband,” He frowns, pouring the water over his dirty hands before drying them with a scrap of the shirt, “If I was a good husband, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt or put in the position in the first place.”

His words were sharp, disappointed in himself as he shuts her door and gets back in the driver’s seat, grip on the wheel so tight his knuckles are white.

By the time they get home, YN is frustrated that Harry doesn’t have enough time to lay back down for a nap because sleep exhaustion was not fun.

She really really didn’t want him going out on stage when he was this tired, he always felt frustrated with his performance afterwards which just made everything spiral.

Harry isn’t under the same impression because when they get home, YN is busy cleaning up her foot and telling Anne what happened.

He disappears upstairs, YN assumes to get his items together to take to the stadium but she gets distracted with Anne and the cats.

It isn’t until the shiny black SUV pulls in to chauffeur them that YN realizes that she hasn’t seen Harry in about half an hour.

When she trails up to the bedroom they’re staying in, she sees him fast asleep ontop of the covers, he hadn’t even taken his tennis shoes off he was that deprived of sleep.

YN felt awful when she had to sit next to him on the bed and gently rub her hand over his chest, whispering, “H, need you to get up.”

It reminded her of his One Direction days.

They were so overworked.

All the boys ran in less than five hours of sleep and were expected to work every moment they were awake.

From recording to interviews to having cameras for documentaries shoved in their faces every other minute - they were constantly spread thin.

They were tucked away in a tiny tour bunk on top, the curtains drawn and they were both fast asleep with Harry’s nose buried in her neck.

After concerts lately, the team had been making the boys stay up even later to record for their next album - no care for how much they just wanted to go to sleep.

When Harry would finally crawl into the bunk, after a concert and then two hours of studio time, it would be two in the morning.

He would be asleep in a minute flat, YN could barely get a goodnight or I love you in before he was nuzzling into her and snoring.

It was like that tonight, they had just performed in Paris and it was an unusually hot night on stage - the heat had Harry’s hair matted to his neck where it fell out of his bun.

The heat always made it harder on their bodies to perform, running around that massive stage, and on a running timer of little sleep.

When Harry had ran off stage after the finale of Best Song Ever, he’s grabbing YN’s hand and rasping, “Just want to shower with you and sleep for days. C’mon before they try to grab me to record.”

They find him, however, before he can get onto the tour bus, and demand that he come record the chorus for Fireproof.

“Just want a shower and to sleep. Is it that much to ask for?” Harry grumbles unhappily before giving YN a kiss and pat to her bum, “I’ll miss you. I’ll try not to wake you when I get in.”

He always did. But it was okay.

It was nearly three hours later when Harry is crawling up the ladder and pushing the curtain back so he can slide into the bunk next to her before pulling the fabric back in place.

He smelled good of his normal eucalyptus body wash and mint shampoo, he was still a little damp like he didn’t want to towel off, and he was just in his briefs as he nestled in next to her.

“Mmm,” YN hums drowsily, acknowledging him as she wiggles back into him and sighing happily when he wraps his arm around her and kisses the nape of her neck.

“Sorry for waking you,” Harry whispers sleepily, planting a few more kisses along her neck and shoulders.

“What time is it?” She mumbles half- asleep still as she helps him pull the blankets over his body too.

“About four in the morning,” He tells her before being interrupted with a yawn as he begins it’s his head on the same pillow as her.

YN vaguely remembers huffing out that it was too late and that he needed sleep but by the time those syrupy words rolled off her tongue, Harry was already dead to the world.

Not much time could have passed before fluorescent light is infiltrating their little nest and a deep voice is announcing, “Time to get up.”

YN squints the light away, grabbing blindly at her phone to check the time.

“It’s six on the morning, Paul. Harry just got into bed at four,” She tells him through a groan, her boyfriend hadn’t even stirred yet.

“Don’t know what to tell you. They have a jammed packed day, no wiggle room. Harry, wake up,” Paul’s voice is louder this time before he’s pulling open the curtains to everyone else’s bunks.

YN knows Harry’s awake when he inhales sharply before taking a lazy, long breath out - lips smacking together against the skin of her neck.

She brings her hand to card through his long lock, nearly to his shoulders. They’re fluffy and soft from his shower the night before.

“I’m so tired,” Harry mumbles sleepily, eyes still shut as he nuzzles further into her body, “I feel like m’gonna die if I keep running on two hours of sleep every night.”

“I hate seeing you this exhausted,” YN replies sadly, massaging his scalp for a moment longer before Paul’s making his rounds to make sure they’re out of bed.

Harry still looked like that same sleepy boy right now as he sniffles and digs his face further into the pillow in resistance.

“H, the car’s here already,” YN tells him, letting her hand drift down the warm muscle of his tattooed bicep and forearm.

His eyes blink open harshly, pausing to process for a moment before he’s grunting, “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner? Only been asleep for a minute and now we have to go. Bloody ridiculous.”

YN rolls her eyes as he pushes himself off the bed with a irate grumble, he begins shoving stuff in his tote bag, and cursing to himself.

She knows by now not to take it personal, to not argue because it only makes things worse. Sometimes that’s easier said than done but not when it comes to little things like this.

When YN goes to hike her own duffle over her shoulder, Harry hip bumps her, and lugs it over his own - like she said, even when he’s grumpy he’s an amazing husband.

“See you at the stadium in a few hours,” YN tells Anne, giving her a kiss on the cheek and allowing her to wrap her in a motherly hug

“Bye mum,” Harry says bluntly, giving her a wave before he’s stepping up into the car and shutting the door.

Anne looks at YN with a confused expression, taken aback by the curt behavior of her son.

YN waves her hand dismissively, “It’s not you. I think today’s his adjustment day.”

That’s what they all referred to it as.

“Well, it’s definitely his adjustment day,” YN scoffs in agitation as she slams shut the dressing room door and heads out to where the rest of the band is hanging out, “Date six this time.”

The boys chuckle because they know exactly what she’s talking about by their third tour, he’s just like clockwork.

A few minutes later, Harry admerges in his tight black skinny jeans, loose button-up, and a headscarf holding his curls back.

“Where’s YN?” He demands when he doesn’t see her anywhere in the vicinity.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have been a douche at soundcheck and we’d tell you,” Louis shrugs, not bothering to look up from the video game he's playing with Zayn.

“You can go fuck yourself,” Harry snaps instantly, jaw clenching as he storms past his bandmates who just ignore him anyways.

He was normally the kindest, least problematic out of all of them so they’d let his bad days slide more easily than with each other.

YN is currently pouring herself a glass of fresh squeezed mango juice from the Kraft service table when Harry finds her.

“You know I love you,” Harry murmurs quietly as he steps behind her, she can feel him pressing up against her.

“I would hope so,” She replies with a chuckle, taking a sip before saying, “If not, we just wasted quite a few years.”

“Are you mad at me?” He pushes, ignoring the dirty look she gives him when he takes the cup out of her hand and swigs down the juice she’d just poured - he reaches around her to refill it.

“No,” YN sighs as she takes the glass back, leaning back into him, “Just hated days when you’re like this. It’s hard for me to watch. You just get worn so thin and get so mentally tired that it makes me sad to see you get pushed so much.”

“It’ll get better, in a few years, when I’m on my own,” Harry promises as he leans in to kiss her temple, hands squeezing her hips, “If I ever get the chance to do a solo tour.”

Oh, would he.

A sold out stadium tour to be exact.

And he wasn’t lying, when he went solo things did get a lot better.

He wasn’t spread as thin as ice constantly, everyday of the year but maybe now half the year - only when he’s touring or promoting but he definitely had a bit more down time for self-care.

It was the back-to-back concerts, like Glasgow, Capital Ball, Manchester night one, and now night two before Wembley, she was so proud she could burst at the seams.

Harry had been just a moody during soundcheck, a frown etching his lips downward as he kept an annoyed expression on his face.

“S’too loud.”

“I say it’s too loud so you turn the volume up?”

“Okay. Why is it suddenly becoming difficult to get this right? We’ve done it a million times before.”

Fans idealized who Harry is as a person.

That’s not saying that he isn’t wonderful and kind but he is human, this is the side YN gets too which is part of being in a marriage - the good and the bad.

People blog about how perfect their relationship must be, how Harry must bring her flowers in bed everyday, and never get cross with her.

Harry Styles the brand isn’t the same as Harry Styles the person.

Most people get the brand, very few get the person.

YN feels bad as she watches the audio techs scramble to make it right, bickering between each other as they fumble with the buttons and switches.

The soundcheck was already running too close to showtime which YN knows has Harry on edge, the fans will be let in almost as soon as they’re done - he’ll have to start getting ready.

—

“Hey!” YN squeaks, giggling quietly as she looks around the hallway, “Harry, you don’t have much time before you have to go on stage!”

“Shush up and let me kiss you before the boys find us,” Harry leans in, connecting their lips as he’s pushing her back against the wall.

“Oi! Styles, get your arse to the stage! What did I tell you about distracting him?” Preston barks at them as he’s trying to taper down a smile by putting his hands on hips like he means business.

Harry grumbles as he gives her one more kiss before bumping their noses together, “Want to go get pizza after the show?”

“Isn’t as easy as before. Now you need security and approval,” YN murmurs but there’s no heat behind the words, “I’d love to get pizza later.”

She reaches up to adjust his bandana, he looks like a frat boy with his golden dark tan, black cut-off tank, and ripped skinny jeans.

“Styles! I mean it! Now!”

“Bloody hell! M’coming!” Harry shouts back before flipping him the bird.

Harry picks a fight with Harry Lambert about his outfit, complaining about nothing and refusing any replacement item.

Everyone already knows he’s going to wear what was originally planned but he has to complain that the zipper was too flimsy or the shirt didn’t mesh with the shoes.

He didn’t want the three other shirt options and so he goes back to the original but debates over his shoes for nearly twenty minutes.

Lambert looks like he wants to strangle him by the time it’s over.

Usually, Harry would slip into his clothes with any issue as they planned these outfits in advance and Harry had specifically approved every single one.

YN isn’t in the room when Jeff chews Harry out about how he acted today at the grocery store, how he should have stopped and taken pictures, and signed autographs.

She misses that Harry had just told his best friend and manager to fuck off and leave him alone, to not come near him at all, and mind his own business.

YN had been sat with Anthony Pham as he clicked through pictures from the night before on his laptop, he landed on an action shot of Harry jumping up the few stairs when he was going crazy during ‘Satellite’.

She had meant to warn Harry to be careful about doing that and he had just happened to be storming out of his dressing room when she looks up.

“H, baby,” YN calls, unsure of where he was heading but he stops in his tracks and meets her gaze with a tight jaw.

“What?” Flat. Blunt.

“Anthony was just showing me some pictures from last night. Please be careful when you jump those stairs. It might drizzle and if you slip, you’re really going to get hurt,” YN tells him softly, it wasn’t pestering or nagging - it was because she cared and thought she’d remind him.

His face pinches up even more as he listens before he’s booming out, “I’m not a fucking baby. I don’t need to be told that. S’my show and I’ll do what I want.”

YN takes a deep breath, steadying herself so that she doesn’t match his negative energy but inside, she’s absolutely livid with him.

“You’re right, Harry. It is all your show, popstar. You do what you want,” YN scoffs as the angry rising up in her chest before she’s giving Anthony a pat on the shoulder before she’s walking away the from the situation.

Popstar.

When YN used it, it was an insult. It was to highlight how spoiled or egocentric he was being. Every time she says it in that context, it triggers him.

“I don’t want to go out tonight. I’m saying no and it’s final,” Harry huffs firmly, sitting on the couch in their first London flat.

“You promised me last week that you would come with us, H. Everyone’s expecting you and I want you to come as well,” YN bites back as she stands at their kitchen counter.

“No. It was leaked that I was back in London. Everyone knows I’m here. I’m not going out to just be bombarded with fans and paparazzi tonight. I’m not doing it after a three week long press tour for This Is Us.”

“Fine,” YN mutters, slamming her cup down a little harsher than necessary, “It’s much more important than what I want. Right, popstar?”

“That’s not what I said! You bloody know that I hate when you call me that!” Harry raises his voice, running a hand through his curls.

“Then stop acting like a spoiled little popstar!” YN retorts hotly, she logically knew she was the one being a little over dramatic - she just had not liked his tone.

His face instantly turns into a deeper scowl when he hears it, his teeth gritting together as he stares intently at her back before following after her.

“Don’t walk away from me,” Harry demands lowly as he takes strides behind her, “M’not being a popstar, I just don’t need mothered.”

YN spins on her heel, crossing her arms, “I’ve been plenty plenty patient with you today. My patience has run out. You need to adjust your attitude or you can sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Rather that anyways,” Harry hisses brattily, kissing the back of his teeth - YN can see straight through the rough guy act.

Anyone else would be intimidated by his broad shoulders, stoney glare, and clenched jaw but not her, not one bit, she doesn’t back down.

“Don’t come crying to me when you hurt yourself on stage,” She shrugs casually before shaking her head in disbelief at his overall attitude today.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Harry rumbles back before he’s storming off, back towards his dressing room before he’s swinging open the door and slamming it shut.

YN has to chuckle because even on his worst days, like today, he’s just a little brat but never gets to the point where YN feels anything but a mixture of annoyance and fondness.

YN inhales deeply to let the annoyance flow out of her body as she walks towards Harry Lambert to get her outfit for the show.

It was a simple light washed gucci jumpsuit, the denim was the same color as the denim that made up Harry’s overalls. ***

(imagine them in the same color denim as Harry’s)

YN was planning on a cute pair of mule heels but with the cut on the back of her ankle, she figured she better go for something more comfortable.

She decided to just keep on her slides, she was going to stay off to the side of the stage tonight - about halfway through the show Anne and everyone else would join her.

It’s nearing showtime when YN realizes she hasn’t seen Harry in a hot minute as she sees Jeff storming down the hallway - near red in the face.

“What’s going on?” YN questions with concern as she sees Harry jogging down the long corridor towards the stage.

“He fell asleep and now he’s pissed that he only has five minutes until showtime,” His manager huffs before he’s mumbling an update on his walkie.

“Maybe if somebody fuckin’ woke me up!” Harry complains boisterously as he’s tucking his ear pieces into and hustling towards the stage where he now has less than a minute until showtime.

He’s too distracted by being rushed to the stage by the crew for YN to wish him luck or anything like that but YN finds a storage box to sit on - on side stage.

She can feel the camera flashes not only on Harry but on her as well, it was always awkward to remember that people would film her watching Harry and post it as well.

The show is going fine, Harry seems to be a little more subdued than the night before but overall he always manages to put on a great performance and his fans won’t be able to tell.

Towards the end of the show, a light drizzle begins to fall and coat the stage - making it slippery and what YN had warned against.

As Harry is going crazy during Satellite, he starts jogging backwards down the long catwalk before turning quickly to jump up onto the platform - skipping the three steps.

YN’s heart drops when she sees his face twist into grimace before he’s covering his expression with a forced smile again.

He hadn’t tripped or tumbled over but he most definitely had landed funny on his ankle, just like YN had ‘mothered’ him about.

It must be bothering him because he does not jump around nor does he run for the rest of the show, babying that foot.

YN’s first reaction is to be furious with him, she told him this would happen and he was in such a poor mood that he got angry instead and ended up hurting himself.

She wants to scream ‘I told you so’ as soon as he steps off the stage but she not going to make the situation even worse than it already was.

After the show, all of their friends and family who attended were supposed to go out to eat at a restaurant Jeff had paid out to have for the night.

However when Harry jogs off stage gingerly before slowing to a slow walk as soon as he’s out of the eye line of fans.

YN is waiting for him like always, feels a bit of warmness when he comes to her, dipping down to kiss her before pulling back and murmuring, “You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” YN murmurs, thumbing a stray curl off his damp forehead, “You going to go shower before we head out to The River’ Edge?”

Harry’s face turns stormy for the hundredth time of the day, he shakes his head adamantly as he straightens back up, “No, m’not going. I just want to go back home.”

YN already knows why but still prompts, “Why?”

“Why? Because I just bloody did a show for nearly eighty thousand people and I want to relax, not entertain fifty more,” Harry huffs like it’s obvious, crossing his arms and pouting out his bottom lip.

She’s actually relieved that he doesn’t want to go because she know his attitude wouldn’t have been any better there and this miserable day would have just dragged on.

YN’s heel was still hurting, the skin tender and sore, and she didn’t feel like walking anymore tonight either but the only thing she was worried about was Jeff.

He wasn’t going to be happy that Harry wasn’t attending his own party.

“Go get out of your stage clothes and I’ll go tell Jeff that we’re going to head home,” YN reaches up and rubs at his shoulder before turning to find his manager.

“Okay,” Harry grumbles before stalking off towards his dressing room, it was amazing what a mask he could put on when he has to for his job.

When YN finds Jeff and pulls him aside, he’s just as livid as expected and his patience is minimal based on his argument with Harry earlier.

“Why can’t anyone fucking listen to me?” Jeff shouts in frustration, he seems to have already had a few drinks in his system.

“Can you not control your husband for a fucking minute?”

“We’ve had this planned for months! There’s no reason to cancel.”

As Jeff continues to rant, YN is speechless as she’s being screamed at for something she didn’t even do but she was guilty by association because Harry was her husband.

However, Jeff becomes eerily silent suddenly as YN feels familiar hands grip her hips and pull her back into the strong, muscular chest of her husband.

“I know for a fact, you weren’t just raising your voice at my wife,” Harry states in an unsettlingly calm tone as he moves to step in front of her.

Jeff looks guilty as he glances between the couple.

Then Harry’s voice raises in volume, startling YN with the deep bravado that rumbles from deep within his chest, “I said I know you’re not raising your voice at my wife. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“I’m sorry,” Jeff relents with a sigh, raising his hands in surrender, “I just am frustrated that the party -“

“I don’t need to hear your excuses,” Harry cuts in, moving his hand to intertwine with YN’s as he begins to pull her away, “Don’t let me catch you talking to her like that ever again or there will be major, major problems. Understand?”

Jeff nods, embarrassed by everyone around them staring at the spectacle as Harry directs YN down the hall towards the exit of the stadium where there’s a car waiting.

They don’t speak during the walk, Harry stills spun tight and his shoulders are tensed up as he ignores all the crew ogling him with excitement and amazement.

In the SUV, Harry kicks off his sneakers which he typically doesn’t do so YN takes that as another sign that his ankle is bothering him.

Harry is the biggest baby when he’s hurt usually.

He wants to be cuddled, soothed, and wants YN’s full attention at all times (which isn’t very different from everyday for them).

But he’s stubborn and grumpy as all get out.

He goes easily when YN wraps her hand gently around his neck and directs him until he’s laying across the backseat with her nails scratching at his scalp as he blinks heavily, trying to stay awake.

The ride’s not even an hour but Harry drifts off after only a few minutes after the car pulls out of the stadium lot.

He’s groggy as YN unlocks the front door to Anne’s house and leads him up the stairs where he disappears into the bathroom to shower.

YN disappears downstairs to scrounge through the freezer until she’s grabbing a solid bag of frozen peas and pouring herself a glass of water, as well as one for him with a few pain reliever pills.

When she enters back into their room, she changes out of her denim outfit and into a cute pajama set because she didn’t want to sleep in her underwear at her mother-in-law's house. ***

Harry comes out soon after, not one for long showers when he’s sleepy and has just a tight pair of briefs on as he rubs his eyes. ***

“C’mere,” YN pats the space next to her on the bed then grabs the cold bag of vegetables.

“What are those for?” Harry grumps as he subtly limps to the bed and plops down heavily right up against her.

“For the ankle you hurt on stage,” YN raises her eyebrow at him before nodding down to where it’s swollen and bruising.

“I didn’t,” He argues instantly, defensive with his hackles up and knitted brows, “Don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re imagining shit.”

“Mmm, must be,” YN replies nonchalantly, tossing the bag back onto the bedside table and acting like she’s wriggling down to get ready for bed - refusing to give into his antics.

Harry grunts and grumbles for a few minutes, turning and squirming because he does want YN to baby him and he’s fighting against himself.

YN is faced away from him, trying to taper down her smile when he finally relents after a painful day of attitude, “Want you to ice my ankle, baby.”

She flips to her other side before sitting back up, biting the inside of her cheek and shaking her head fondly, she loved her overly worked, exhausted husband so fucking much.

“Yeah?” YN hums softly, welcoming Harry when he leans over and nuzzles into her throat, “Ready to let me take care of you?”

“M’sorry,” Harry whispers against her skin, lips brushing against her pulse point, “I never get better at dealing with my adjustments to tour.”

“Been like this since you’ve been sixteen,” YN tells him as she directs Harry to move until his foot is in her lap and she’s wrapping a dish towel around the bag and pressing it to his ankle.

“Think I just landed funny, hopefully it will feel better in the morning,” Harry frowns, hissing at the cold touch before relaxing against it.

“Hopefully,” YN repeats as she keeps it pressed there, her thumb rubbing at his skin in soothing circles to calm him.

Harry pauses for a moment before acknowledging, “You were right, shouldn’t have been jumping ‘round like that when it was wet. Will you forgive me for acting like a prat today?”

“I forgive you every time,” YN giggles with a shake of her head, “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have let you put a ring on it.”

“We’re twenty eight now. Don’t regret letting me wife you up at nineteen?” Harry’s voice has taken a deeper rasp, he’s totally using his sex voice right now because despite how tired or injured he is - he will still try to get it in.

“Never for a moment. Got to marry the famous Harry Styles, breaking new records with every album, fat bank account. It’s working out alright,” YN teases coyly, goosebumps decorating her skin as Harry’s gaze gets more directed and intense.

“Yeah? Just married me for my money and fame?” Harry rumbles, leaning down to toss the bag of peas on the floor.

“And your big cock,” She smirks as her eyes drop to where he’s noticeably hardening and filling out the thin fabric, pushing against it to make more room.

“Always been a fan of that, hm? Never complain, exact opposite actually. Constantly begging for, for me to fill you up just right,” Harry’s fully turning himself on at this point as he grips the bottom of her sleep shirt.

She smacks his hands off, “Think you can act like an utter brat all day and still get the goods?”

“Said M’sorry,” Harry bites back, persistent as he reaches out again and YN lets him pull it over her head, her bare chest revealed, “Plus, s’your wifely duty. Be a nice little thing and let me ‘ave you.”

Those words shouldn’t make her as wet as they do.

“Should make you just make me come and not let you,” YN gasps as he ducks down, puffy lips wrapping around her nipple and pulling it into his mouth.

He pulls back for a moment, a cocky smirk on his face as he says, “We both know m’coming tonight. Let it drip out of you.”

“H,” YN whines at his filthy words as he bits at her nipples as he’s shimmying her shorts and panties off her hips in one fluid motion.

It’s not how she saw their night ending but she definitely wasn’t complaining.

There’s not any preamble because even though he’s horny, he’s tired, and doesn’t have the energy to go at it for hours.

He slips in with no resistance, moaning loudly into her mouth as he begins a steady, harsh rhythm that hits her spot every odd stroke and his thumb is tight on her clit to make sure she falls off the edge with him.

It’s only mere minutes after they finish that Harry is snoring softly into her neck, while body wrapped around hers - thigh swung over her legs, arm across her tummy.

It’s something that never gets old to her.

There’s millions and millions of people who adore Harry, they want in every way imagineable, they make it known by coming to his concerts in swarms.

People have been obsessed with him since he was sixteen.

But despite all that, Harry never changes.

He craves attention but he needs it the most from his wife. He lives for being able to snuggle and hang all over her at all times. He needs her to be there to take care of him and tell him he’s doing a good job

He’ll always just be Harry to her.

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