#GO OFF LOUIS SHOW THE WORLD YOUR SEXY SIDE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nixll · 4 years ago

Text

rogue

pairing : harry styles x reader, spy!au

summary : you’ve got a reputation to uphold, but when a rogue agent shows up asking for help, you’re going to have to put everything you’ve ever worked for on the line.

word count : 6.2k

warnings : smut, 18+

Your head hits the wall with a thud, causing your vision to go white for half a second. You’re sure this man thinks this is the sexiest thing ever – shoving you up against the wall of his hotel room with enough force to leave a dent – and if you weren’t in the middle of trying to steal his wallet, you would have made sure to mention that this most definitely was not sexy.

Instead you’re left with letting the man force himself onto you, his leg pushing between your legs in an attempt to have you grind against his thigh. His lips move to your neck and you’re trying your best not to just push him away, but you really need to get him on the bed.

Get him on the bed, you had been told, you’ve got to make it look like he just passed out on his own.

“Bed,” you breathe out, trying to make it sound like you’re just as out of breath as he is. “Let’s get to the bed.”

“So eager, pet?” The man chuckles, pressing wet lips to your own.

Even after all those years you hadn’t managed to get used to having to use your body to get your way.

You push at his chest and he steps back from you. You use that to your advantage and push at his chest again, putting on your best mischievous grin. “Bed,” you order him, watching him stumble back until the back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he tips onto it. You stalk forward, the sound of your heels muffled by the carpet.

“You’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” the man chirps, but there’s something in his face that’s telling you that’s not true. “Come here.”

“Tsk-tsk, Mr. Rodriguez. Patience is a virtue. Now lie down on the bed for me.”

Mr. Rodriguez does just that, sliding himself up the bed and laying his head against the pillows.

“All laid out for me, huh?” you tease in a false sultry tone. You leave your heels on as you climb on the bed, knowing this will be over just as soon as you make your next move.

“Anything you want, pet.”

You make your way up the bed, straddling his stomach as you lean down to press your lips against his ear. “Ready for the time of your life?”

Before he can respond, your hand finds the pressure point in his neck, pressing down on it and like that – he’s out. You take a moment to admire your handiwork, snapping your fingers a couple times to make sure he truly is asleep before you’re off the bed and rummaging around for his wallet.

“Credit cards, credit cards,” you find yourself mumbling until you find the black folded square hidden beneath his abandoned coat. “Gotcha.”

It only takes a moment to get the various credit cards, snapping photos of each of them, and sending them off. As you’re putting them each back where you found them, a polaroid falls out of the side and your eyes widen at the image of a girl placed strategically on a bed, nothing but a thin sheet covering her body. You let out a whistle. “Mr. Rodriquez, you dirty dog.”

You stuff the photo back in the wallet, careful not to leave anything out of place, and then you’re out of the room, quiet as a mouse. Almost like you were never even there.

Your phone rings when you reach the elevator down the hall and without looking, you slide to answer it.

“Louis.”

“Hello, darling. We got your photos.”

“Mission complete?” You press the button for the floor one number above you, your room strategically placed directly above your target’s.

“Mission complete. Ready to come home?”

“And see your gorgeous face?” Louis laughs at that. “Of course.”

Louis Tomlinson, the man behind the screen and quite-possibly your favorite person in the world. He was your man on the inside, always a step ahead of everyone else. It came in handy, having Louis as your partner at the agency. He was one of the best.

“You’ve got a couple hours before your flight. Take it easy. I’ll call you later, alright?”

You reach your floor and wish Louis a goodbye before ending the call. When you get to your room, you swipe the card to unlock it and step in, letting the fresh air from the window you had left open earlier hit you. It’s refreshing to feel. You kick your heels towards your suitcase, clothes scattered across the floor around it, and a moment later the wig that had sat atop your head during this mission joins it.

With that, you drop to the bed, landing on your stomach and letting your cheek land against the soft blanket with a groan of satisfaction. Reaching up, you pull your hair out of its tight up-do and moan at the relief it gives your head, having had your hair stuffed under the wig for hours at a time. You revel in the silence of your hotel room, save for the sound of movement of the city outside your window flowing into your room, but it’s all disrupted when you hear a click of a lamp in the opposite corner.

Your eyes open, your hand finding the gun you had kept shoved underneath your pillow for moments like this as you aim it at the now illuminated corner.

The man sitting in the chair there holds his hands up, and you recognize him immediately, but don’t drop your gun. Instead, you glare at him.

“Harry.” You smile in displeasure. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Harry Styles, sitting there in a perfectly pressed suit, the pants flaring out around his ankles – a signature style for him. He lowers his hands. “Agent. Good to see you again.”

“No, it isn’t.” Without lowering your aim, you climb off the bed. “What are you doing here?”

“Would you believe it if I said I missed your company?”

“No because you never enjoyed it to begin with.”

Harry points a ring-clad finger. You had almost forgotten about the rings he wore on each finger, clunky pieces of metal that could give him away if he wasn’t careful. “Touché.” His eyes make their way down your figure before they land back on your face. “Nice outfit.”

You had almost forgotten the uncomfortable sparkly number you had chosen to wear earlier for the mission. While it was revealing and very much not something you would normally want to wear around, it had gotten the job done. “I’m supposed to report you if I see you, y’know.”

Harry nods.

“So, why shouldn’t I?”

“Because I have a proposition for you.”

“And if I don’t accept?”

“Then go ahead and give Louis a call back. ‘S been a while since I spoke with him.”

You grit your teeth.

Harry Styles, an all-around asshole who had formerly been a major pain in your ass, until he up and left the agency after rumors that he was a double agent, feeding information to some of the world’s biggest criminals.

When he up and left, most people thought the rumors were true, that Harry was now on the run from the very agency he had been brought up in. Others thought that he left and became a rogue agent, determined to complete the mission that the agency itself wouldn’t ever think of handling – figuring out who the real double agent was.

With him sitting in front of you now, you were beginning to lean more towards the second one.

You slowly lower the gun. “Talk.”

“I’ve been framed.”

“And you’ve come to me, why?”

“Because I know I can trust you.”

You scoff. “You hated me the entire time we worked together. The only reason we even had to work together was because—”

“We’re the best.”

The realization hit you. “Oh no. Oh, fuck no.”

“Just hear me out—”

“You’re not dragging me into this mess you created.”

Harry stands abruptly. “I didn’t create it, and you know it. There is a double agent and they’re able to get away with all of it if people continue to believe it’s me.”

“This is suicide—”

“Not for the two of us it isn’t.” Harry motions in the space between you. “I need your help. I already have most of the puzzle figured out, I just need help with the final piece.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed, Harry.”

“I won’t.”

You sit on the edge of your bed, letting all the information sink in. If you do this, it will lead to you being marked as a rogue agent the moment you don’t check in. Taking that risk means you’ll have to complete whatever mission Harry has planned in order to keep your job.

You look at Harry, watching you impatiently. He never was very patient. “Fuck,” you groan out, “you just had to fucking choose me, didn’t you?”

“I’m not going to say you’re the best again. Your ego is big enough, but I do need your help.”

“You’re asking me to put my entire career on the line. If we fuck this up, that’s it.” You swipe your hand through the air. “We’re both history.”

Harry nods.

“And I don’t even like you.”

Another nod.

You sigh. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Grab my stuff,” you tell him as you reach for your phone. “We’ve only got a couple hours before they realize I’m not where I’m supposed to be.”

“Where are you supposed to be?”

Harry watches you walk into the bathroom, throwing your phone into the sink and turning the tap on. You watch your only tie to the agency get destroyed before looking back at Harry. “I’m supposed to be going home.”

A flash of regret flashes across his face, but it’s quickly discarded. “You’ll be home soon enough.” He picks up a few stray items on the carpet, including the strappy heels you had abandoned earlier. “Our plane leaves soon.”

“Our?” You shut your eyes and shake your head. “Bastard. You knew I was going to say yes, didn’t you?”

“I do remember that you always seemed to enjoy the riskier missions, Agent.”

“Fuck you, Styles.”

The grin on his face and the way his curls fall onto his forehead give Harry a reckless appearance, not unlike your own. “Maybe after we get my head off the chopping block, hm?”

“I hate you.”

“You too, love.”

—

“There’s only one bed.”

Harry looks up from where he had bent down to unzip his suitcase. His hair is falling into his eyes again. “Yes?”

“We have to share a bed.” You can’t stop staring at the singular king size bed, perfect white pillows adorning the covers. “I don’t want to share a bed with you.”

“We don’t have to share.” Harry shrugs. “You can take the couch.”

You turn to eye the couch on the other side of the room and sigh. “Guess we are sharing a bed.”

“C’mon, love. Won’t be so bad. Swear I’m not a bed hog.”

You’re not paying attention to Harry anymore, your eyes instead caught on the phone that sits on the bedside table. You’re itching to call Louis and let him know you’re okay, that you’re in Italy and everything is fine.

“Do you trust him that much?”

You blink at Harry as he stands back up to his full height. “What?”

“Tomlinson. I know you’re thinking about getting ahold of him. Do you trust him that much?”

You eye the phone again. “With my life.”

Harry seems to think for a moment before he nods, and you quickly move to the phone, sitting on the edge of the pristinely made bed as you press his number in, already having the digits memorized.

It rings.

There’s a click.

You cringe at the way Louis says your name. “How’d you know?”

“Some fuckin’ random Italian number? Can’t get a hold of your cell. Of course, I knew it was you.” Louis scoffs. “I’m a spy, love, just like you. I ain’t that stupid.”

“Louis, I promise everything is okay—”

“Why are you in Italy?”

You bite your lip. “I’m on a mission.”

“A mission to do what? You’re supposed to be on a flight home right now. What the fuck is going on with you?”

Harry appears by your side, hand out. You stare at him for a moment before giving in and handing the phone over.

“Tomlinson? It’s Harry.”

There’s a commotion on the other end and you’re not at all surprised to hear Louis’ shouts. Harry is quick to explain – we’re in Italy, I needed help, it’ll be okay – before he’s handing the phone back to you and walking off.

“Louis?”

“You’re suicidal.”

“Maybe,” you mumble. “But it’s a little late to turn back now, huh?”

“The agency will be knocking on my door any minute. I can only hold them off so long.”

“We only need until tomorrow,” you rush the words out, “the gala is tomorrow and then it’ll all be over.”

Harry had explained the mission on the plane ride earlier – the two of you would attend this gala together posing as a wealthy married couple and would find a way to lure the host away and get a hold of his phone, which would hold the information of who the double agent is.

It sounded easy enough, infiltrating a gala full of wealthy men and women, but most of those wealthy men and women included world-renowned criminals who had travelled here just for this event. It was going to be easy getting the host alone and getting the information you needed, the hard part would be getting out afterwards without making a scene. Harry had yet to figure out exactly what to do.

Louis blows a breath out. “And if you fail?”

You remember the exact thought process you had earlier when deciding to join Harry or not. “Then I guess I won’t be coming home.”

Louis sighs. “Don’t let that bastard ruin your life. Get the job done and get home.”

You smile a little at the soft tone. “I will, Lou. I’ll see you.”

“Be careful, darling.”

You place the phone on the receiver and let out a sigh of relief.

“He’s a good one.”

You turn to look at Harry as he lays out the outfit he had brought for tomorrow. It’s a lovely suit, one that you’re sure you’ll have a matching dress for. “He’s my best friend.”

“That’s the only reason I let you call him. I trust that you trust him.”

You turn yourself around, playing with a loose string on your shirt. “Didn’t know Harry Styles trusted anyone.”

You can practically feel his eye roll in response.

Later that night, after you’ve finished getting ready for bed, you walk into the room to find Harry already sprawled out across the mattress.

You frown at the sight, already noticing the small space that has been left for you.

Harry had already turned the light off, so you carefully tiptoe around the bed, careful not to make noise in case he’s already fast asleep. You lift the duvet up and manage to get under it without much of a fuss, but as soon as you get yourself situated, you become aware of how close Harry is laying.

You can practically feel the heat radiating off him, and with no shirt on, his tattoos are on clear display under what little bit of city light is cascading through the windows. You reach out a hand to poke at his arm. “Harry,” you say gently. There’s no response, so you try again. Another poke. “Harry.”

He lets out a groan but doesn’t open his eyes. “Why’re you so far away?”

“You’re taking up all the space.”

Harry seems to ignore what you say. “Jus’ move closer. Or take the couch.”

You remember how uncomfortable the couch looked and scoot closer, enough so that you’re pressed into Harry’s side. He’s warm, and you’re thankful for that even under the covers with the room as chilly as it is. You really don’t feel like getting up to adjust the thermostat.

You make yourself comfortable, letting your body rest against Harry’s. Maybe in the morning he’ll push you away like expected, tell you to stay on your own side of the bed, but for now you let his warmth wash over you and lure you to sleep.

—

“If you step on my toes one more time—”

“Just keeping you on your feet.” Harry snakes his arm through yours, finding your hand in his. “Do you keep forgetting we’re posing as a couple?”

How could you forget?

You blow a breath out, attempting to both calm your nerves and push a hair that’s fallen out of place out of your face. Instead of your breath blowing it back, it catches Harry’s attention and suddenly he’s stepping in front of you.

You tense when his hand lands on your hip, the other coming up to brush the hair back behind your ear. His touch lingers against your cheek as he leans over, his lips pressing against your ear. “A couple, Agent. That’s what we are tonight.”

You nod subtly, your chin bumping into his shoulder.

With nothing else to say, Harry’s hand slides up your side as he pulls back to look at you. He plasters on a smile and you return it, no matter how false it feels, reaching for his hand. “Drinks?” he suggests.

You nod, letting him drag you through the crowd, careful not to get your flowing dress caught on anyone or anything. You still weren’t sure exactly how Harry was able to get the two of you in here under your fake names – a cleverly chosen Mr. and Mrs. Smith – but you were here now, and all that was left was to find a way to sneak the host away from the crowd.

Harry snatches two glasses of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray, handing one off to you as he subtly leans towards your ear. “That’s him, in the sparkling green suit.”

You find the suit in question, and therefore find Emilio, the host of the party and your target. “So, what’s the plan?”

Harry downs his champagne, quickly grabbing for another one. “Find out whether he’s into men or women.”

It takes ten minutes to even get close to Emilio, and you can feel Harry’s growing impatience with the way he continues to tighten his grip on your hand.

“Hey, Mr. Smith,” you say nonchalantly, “loosen the hold, will you? I’m going to lose circulation in my hand if you keep that up.” You reach your hand up to press against his chest, catching his attention. Your hand momentarily snags on the cross necklace adorning his neck, but you quickly move it away. Harry mumbles an apology, turning to press a kiss against the top of your head, and the action catches you off-guard. His words echo through your head – a couple.

When you finally do reach Emilio, Harry’s entire demeanor changes. “Emilio Diaz, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Emilio grins at the pair of you, holding a hand out to Harry. “Hello. You are?”

“Harold,” Harry offers up his fake name as he releases your hand to shake Emilio’s, “Harold Smith. And this is my wife.”

Emilio takes your hand in his own, bringing it up to kiss your knuckles. You don’t miss the way he lingers before letting your hand go. “What can I do for the two of you?”

Harry seems to up the charm the longer he speaks to Emilio, clearly trying to match him. “I was looking to discuss a little business with you.”

“God, your accent is lovely,” Emilio comments and Harry laughs, “Harold, you say? What kind of business are you looking to discuss?”

“Well, you see, my wife and I are looking to invest a little, and a little birdie told us that you would be the best person to talk to.” Harry’s got an all-knowing grin on, and it seems to do the trick when Emilio motions for the two of you to follow him.

“You’ve come to see the right person, darlings.” Emilio leads you down a hall, away from the rest of the party.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Harry replies, his hand reaching down to grab yours and give a squeeze.

You’re so close, you think, to being done with this. After this, Harry will no longer have that red in his ledger, and you’ll be able to go home.

“Would either of you like a drink?” Emilio asks as he leads you into a room through two double doors. You enter a lounge, and as Emilio walks over to the bar, you and Harry make to sit on one of the cushioned couches.

“Whiskey? Neat.” Harry looks to you. “Two, please.”

“Please,” Emilio repeats, “you failed to tell me how cute your husband is, Mrs. Smith.”

There’s an unreadable expression etched into Harry’s face, but you look away before you can figure out the meaning of it. “He is, isn’t he?”

“How long have you been together?”

You had planned to make the details simple and easy enough to remember. You had known Harry for three years, so, “three years.”

Emilio carefully carries the drinks over, handing each one to you before he points to the spot between you and Harry. “Care if I sit here?” You move to make the space. Emilio reaches in his pocket to grab his phone and sets it on the table before resting a hand on the back of the couch behind Harry, but Harry makes a point to lean back against the cushions, letting Emilio’s hand brush against his shoulders. “You must be very comfortable in your relationship then, after all that time.”

You sip on your drink, but Harry leans forward to sit his on the table.

“Indeed we are, Mr. Diaz.”

“Please, Harold. Call me Emilio.” He takes a long swallow of his own drink. “Now, onto business…”

Emilio’s words trail off as he looks between you and Harry. “The two of you didn’t come here to discuss business, did you?”

Harry gives a cheeky smile, one of his hands coming to rest on Emilio’s thigh. “No, we didn’t.”

You eye the phone on the table as Harry makes his move, his hand coming to rest further on Emilio’s thigh as Emilio moves to kiss at Harry’s jaw, trailing his lips down. You’re reaching for the phone when Harry lets out a groan, and you look over to see that Emilio’s hand has found a spot over the zipper of Harry’s trousers, an obvious tent beginning to form beneath it.

You swallow the lump in your throat and realize that Harry is looking right at you as Emilio’s hand moves against him. There’s something dark in his eyes and you can feel your thighs growing slick at the sight, but you ignore it and snatch the phone from its place on the table.

All you have to do is find the information needed to clear Harry’s name, and everything will be over.

The sound of Harry’s zipper is too loud in your ears, but you ignore it and continue looking through the phone. Harry’s groan fills the room, and you look up out of sheer concern, only to see that Emilio has shoved his hand down the front of Harry’s trousers. Your face heats up and you look away, but not before Emilio turns his attention to you.

“Don’t think I forgot about you, darling.”

Emilio’s voice makes you jump, but you’re quick to hide the phone beneath the fabric of your gown as he brings a hand to rest on your cheek. “You’re so pretty. Both of you are.”

Your eyes flit to Harry, whose bottom lip is currently pulled between his teeth. “Emilio,” you say softly, giving the man next to you your full attention as you move to swing your leg over his lap, allowing you to straddle him and push him back against the couch cushions. As your leg lands practically in Harry’s lap, so does the phone as you hand it off to him.

Meanwhile, Emilio is trailing his hands up your side as you reach up to grab his face, keeping his gaze on you. You’re hoping your dress gives Harry enough coverage to hide the phone and that you’re able to give him enough time to get the information needed.

“Such a pretty thing,” Emilio coos, and you giggle softly, leaning down to press a kiss to his jaw like he had done to Harry earlier. “So damn pretty.”

You nudge your nose into Emilio’s cheek, letting one hand trail down his chest while the other is reaching blindly at your side for Harry. You manage to find his thigh and grab it, squeezing it tightly. His hand lands on yours a second later, squeezing in return.

“You know, darling,” he turns away from your assault, “I don’t think you ever gave me your name.”

Harry says it then, your name, and not the fake one you guys had prepared. He says your name, and that’s when you see the phone being held up.

“What is this—”

Before Emilio can do anything, you’re reaching for the knife strapped to your thigh beneath your dress and pressing it against his neck. “Wouldn’t do anything too hasty if I were you, Mr. Diaz.”

Emilio doesn’t struggle beneath you as the realization dawned on him. “You’re a spy. A filthy little spy.”

“I am,” you confirm, pressing the blade just enough before it can draw any blood, “and you just gave us all the information we need to bring down an empire.”

Emilio looks at the phone in Harry’s hand and you grin at the sight of the text message chain on screen – various photos of evidence including the name of the double agent, all sent to a number you recognized as Louis’.

There was several screams then, coming from outside the doors.

Emilio tried to move, but you didn’t let up. “What’s happening?”

“Seems the police have arrived,” Harry comments, standing up and straightening out his suit. “That means we can be taking our leave.”

You feel a rush of relief knowing that your part of the plan worked. You had made one last call to Louis earlier in the day, a very risky thing to do, but you knew he could help you. Harry hadn’t figured out an escape plan and you had an idea, one that Louis had miraculously agreed to.

Just send the evidence to me, Louis had told you in the call that had only lasted a minute, I’ll have Italian police on standby.

You were grateful it had worked – that Louis had come through, knowing he was risking himself by helping you.

Harry tosses the phone onto the couch and holds out his hand for you. You carefully maneuver off the couch, leaving Emilio sitting there stunned. He had no way out now.

Harry lets out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “Remind me to thank Louis when we get back.”

—

The drive back to the hotel is quiet, and so is the walk to the hotel room. It’s when you’re unlocking the door to your room that Harry speaks up.

“You did good tonight.”

You smirk. “Is the Harry Styles complimenting me?”

“Don’t push it.”

You try to hide your smirk. “Looking forward to going home finally?”

You turn to look at Harry, pausing with your hand on the door handle. His cheeks are flushed, and you wonder if it’s from the events of earlier. He gives you a nod.

You push the door open and step inside, immediately kicking your heels off from beneath the draping fabric. Harry walks in behind you, and as you turn to say something else, you realize how close the two of you are. You could easily step away from Harry – it’s not like the room isn’t big enough – but you find that you’re trapped beneath his stare and suddenly you’re reminded of the sight of him on the couch with someone else’s hand down the front of his pants.

Harry says your name, soft enough that it’s almost a whisper.

Your mind is screaming at you to do something – to walk away or take the leap – but you’re stuck in place, unsure of what to do.

Harry takes the leap. He breaks the tension by taking that final step, one hand coming up to grab the back of your neck to pull you to him and the other gripping your hip.

His kiss feels like fire, and it steals the breath away from you. It’s all so unexpected that it almost knocks you off your feet, but Harry is there to hold you against him, keeping you in place. Your hands grip at his chest, your fingers tangling into the cross necklace that dangles from his neck. You wrap your fingers around it, tugging on it slightly and Harry lets out a moan into your mouth.

“This doesn’t mean I like you,” Harry gasps into your mouth.

You move to kiss at his jaw. “Not even a little?”

Harry grabs your face, pulling it back so he can kiss you with a force that makes you dizzy. “Bed,” he practically spits out the word, and suddenly you’re pushed away, your knees hitting the edge of the bed as you fall down onto it.

Harry moves to get on his knees in front of you, his hands moving the fabric of your dress away. You’re thankful for the gap in the fabric down the middle, making it easier for Harry to shove it out of the way and have access to your panties underneath. “These are cute,” he mumbles, looking at the baby pink fabric covering your center. He meets your eyes for a second before he’s reaching for the pink fabric and pulling it away.

You let yourself fall back against the mattress as Harry drags your panties down your legs before tossing them away. His hands scower your legs until he reaches the top of your thighs and you’re briefly left wondering what it would feel like if he still had his rings on, and not just the thin band around his left ring finger.

“Harry,” you groan out, eagerness coating your voice. “Hurry up.”

“Who’s impatient now?” Harry hums, lifting one of your legs up over his shoulder and taking the opportunity to run one of his fingers through the wetness between your legs. “So wet f’me, huh?”

You flinch at the touch of him between your legs, and the way his accent has only gotten stronger with each passing second turns you on even more. “Harry, please.”

“Oh, she says please now?” Harry chuckles. “How lovely.”

And then he’s there, two fingers spreading your folds as he licks a stripe between them. It leaves you crying out, your hands bunching in the sheets on either side of you. It’s so overwhelming – the feeling of relief as he licks at you, bringing your clit between his lips and sucking – that you swear you could come undone at any second.

The pressure only continues to mount when Harry brings his other hand up. He’s pulling his mouth away to rub his fingers through the slick, leaving you gasping out, and then he’s pushing two fingers in.

“Oh fuck.”

“That good?” Harry watches as he pumps the two digits in and out at a pace that is far too slow for your liking. He presses a kiss to your thigh. “Yeah, y’like it, don’t you? Only g’na get better once I’ve got m’cock stuffed inside this pretty little cunt.”

“Harry, please,” you cry out, “faster.”

“Oh, faster? Y’want it faster, baby?”

You’re nodding furiously, letting your eyes shut, but Harry is there, tapping your cheek with the hand he had been using to fuck you. The wetness coating his hand smears across your cheek as he slaps you lightly.

“Eyes on me,” he tells you, and when you look down between your legs, you can see that Harry’s pupils are blown out. “Good girl,” he mumbles before his hand is back and he’s fucking his fingers into you so hard you swear you’re seeing stars. His other hand moves to your stomach and he uses his arm to hold you down, keeping you from bucking your hips into him. His fingers are pistoning in and out of you, so fast they could be a blur, and then his lips are back on your clit, wrapping around it as your tongue flicks at it.

You don’t bother holding it back anymore – letting your orgasm wash over you as you scream out Harry’s name. He keeps the pace going for a moment, practically driving you into overstimulation, but then he’s slowing down, pulling his mouth away from you as he leaves his fingers curling inside of you.

“So good, so good f’me, sweetheart.”

You try to catch your breath and Harry pauses his actions. “Louis told me not to let you ruin my life,” you admit.

“Do you think letting me fuck you is going to ruin your life?” He accentuates the question with a curl of his fingers, and you keen at the feeling.

“Har,” you breathe out, “fuck me.”

“Where’s that please y’gave me?” Harry teases you, pulling his fingers out and letting your leg fall from his shoulder. “You’ve gotta tell me what y’want, baby.”

Harry is leaning down just as you’re lifting yourself up on your elbows. The hand he had used to fuck you is brought up to your mouth, and he teases a finger against your lips.

You maintain eye contact as you take his index finger in your mouth, sucking off the remnants of your orgasm from the soaked digit. When you pull your mouth off with a pop, you grin. “Fuck me, please.”

Harry lets out a growl and wastes no more time. His hand moves to grab at your throat, pushing you back onto the bed as he releases himself from his trousers, not bothering to remove anymore clothing than he has to. He seems to pause for half a second, drinking in the sight of you, and what a sight it must be – you laid out for him, dress bunched around your waist and a blissed out look on your face.

Harry rests the tip of his cock against your folds, running it through a few times before pushing into you, causing both of you to let out a moan.

“God, you’re s’fuckin’ tight.” Harry accentuates the last word with a rough thrust, his hand tightening against your throat as he leans down to press his lips against yours. There’s no slowness to this like he had started with when he was fingering you – no teasing or preparation. It’s all rough thrusts, with Harry groaning into your mouth when you bite at his bottom lip. “So fuckin’ good. Been thinking about you since the mission started,” he admits against your lips, “and when Emilio had his hand down m’pants, and I was wishin’ it was you.”

You feel yourself clench around Harry’s cock, and his hips stutter against yours, his mouth falling open in an ‘o’. You repeat the action, this time on purpose and somehow Harry seems to go faster, fucking into you even harder than before.

“Harry, oh my god.”

“Gonna cum for m’, yeah?” Harry grunts out. “Cum all over m’cock and then I’ll cum in y’.”

You’re moaning so loud you’re sure the other hotel patrons can hear you, but Harry presses his mouth against yours so he can swallow the sounds whole. You’re a panting mess, gripping onto Harry. Your fingers find the cross around his neck again and your fingers tangle into the chain as Harry pistons his hips into you again and again.

“Cum f’me, sweetheart,” Harry says against your lips, one of his hands snaking down to toy with your clit, rubbing at it so fast that it makes your head dizzy with the way it feels. “Come on, cum f’me.”

And you do, falling into your second orgasm of the night and screaming out at the feel of it. It’s overwhelming, but Harry doesn’t stop. He’s frantic now, his hips slamming against yours as the room fills with the sound of skin on skin. It’s all so slick with the feel of your cum pouring out with each thrust. He’s close, you can tell, and you’re determined to get him there faster, so you clench down on his cock again and use his necklace to pull him flush against you.

“Cum for me, Har,” you repeat the order he had given you, and with one last thrust, he’s spurting thick ribbons of his cum inside you.

He falls against you, letting his weight rest on top of you as he tries to catch his breath. When he pulls out of you, you can feel his cum begin to drip out, but his fingers are there to shove it back in. You moan out at the full sensation and Harry chuckles.

“Didn’t know someone you hated could make y’feel this good, huh?”

You roll your eyes, beginning to push Harry off of you, but Harry resists and you can feel his fingers beginning to curl inside you. “Harry, too much—”

“Uh uh,” Harry tuts. “I ain’t done with you yet, love.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #one direction imagine #my fics #ok im posting this and then dipping for a while to do schoolwork #these two au's were VERY distracting #happy to have them off my hands now

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lululawrence · 4 years ago

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lululawrence’s May 2021 Fic List

Previous Fic Lists / Fic List Podcast Masterpost

May somehow managed to escape my grasp and here we are again! I got a weekend away from the kids this month, which allowed me the chance to finally read for hours on end, and I therefore have quite a few fics to talk about! They were truly amazing, I loved every single one, and I hope you appreciate them too!

If you’d like to hear me share my excitement about these fics verbally and in more detail, you can listen to this month’s podcast here.

As always, be sure to show your love and appreciation for all of the hard work our fandom authors have put into their fics with kudos, nice comments, and (when applicable) reblogging their fic posts!

Just for Tonight (I can be yours) by @sadaveniren / SadaVeniren (42k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, A/B/O, Royalty AU, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Innocent Harry, Sheltered Harry, Arranged Marriage, Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, but HOW DO THEY GET THERE?? lol, Mpreg, Heat/Rut, Poor as shit sex education lmao, Okay but for real the world building in this was incredible, I can still see the pictures in my mind that I conjured up for certain parts of this fic, It is incredible and the PINING AND ANGST OMG)

reckless serenade by @thepolourryexpress / thepolourryexpress (4k, E, Harry/Louis, Girl Direction, This one is a bit hard to explain lmao, ....Non-Established Relationship.... relationship, it makes sense in the fic lol, clueless idiots in love, there we go, friends to lovers, humor, fluff, This is beyond sweet and fucking sexy)

a little tenderness by @disgruntledkittenface / disgruntledkittenface (11k, NR, Harry/Niall, 1D A/B/O Fest fic, Alpha Harry, Omega Niall, Touch Deprivation, Nesting, Cuddling, Scenting, Ace Harry, Fluff, Okay listen this fic was so fucking soft I cannot express to you, It was HEALING, I cryyyyyy it was just so beautiful)

What if I'm someone you won't talk about? by @louloubabys1992 / louloubaby92 (58k, M, Harry/Louis, Fine Line Fest fic, Song Fic, Based on Falling, Famous/Non-Famous, Childhood Sweethearts, Exes to Lovers, Kind of but not really at the same time?, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending but there’s fucking angst okay? lol, Hurt/Comfort, Sex Work, Exploitation, References to Rape, PTSD, There’s a lot of dark shit in here, please please please read the tags and keep yourself safe, But if you can handle it then fuck it was an fascinating story for sure!)

When Least Expected by @all-these-larrythings / Rearviewdreamer (22k, M, Harry/Louis, Quarantine Fic, Single Parent Louis, Teacher Harry, Mentions of Depression, Online Dating? Kind of?, Maybe it’s more like Long Distance dating, except they’re in the same city, anyway, Pining, Flirting, Oblivious boys, Soft, This fic was the epitome of soft, It was so incredibly healing to read it, So cathartic and beautiful and lovely, It just made me so happy and at peace reading this fic, and I really didn’t expect that from a quarantine fic tbh)

so c'mon c'mon (and dance with me baby) by @rockstarlouis / theweightofmywords (3k, NR, Harry/Louis, New Year’s Fic, Meet Cute, Louke are together at the beginning but it doesn’t last long, Work Party, but neither Louis or Harry work there lololol, Humor, Drinking, Dancing, This fic was just so short and sweet and fun I loved it)

Pound Cake by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (2k, NR, Harry/Louis, Butthole Series fic, Hurt Louis, Sad Louis, Harry’s birthday, Friends to Lovers, Crack fic lmao, Misunderstandings, This fic was so funny but also somehow sweet, while still being about buttholes, Lauren is a magician what can I say lol)

Get Burned By the Fire by Anonymous (13k, NR, Shawn/Niall, Heartbreak Weather Fest fic, Song Fic, based on Small Talk, Bartender Niall, Mysterious Shawn, Casual Sex, I think that’s how you’d define their arrangement? lol, Pining, Harry and Louis are together and Niall’s besties and coworkers, They’re hilarious through all of this, Even though it’s casual sex or meant to be anyway, It defo is also like... a Breakup Fic, and also Exes to Lovers, Supernatural Elements, It’s all complicated and sooooo fucking gooooood)

The Shooting Star Of Promises And Fears by darkpoets (2k, NR, Harry/Louis, Soulmates, Wishes, This fic is incredibly hard to explain or describe, because the style and feel of it is incredibly unique, It feels almost floaty while you read it, if that makes sense)

Getting a Room by bluespring864 (2k, G, Lewis/Niall, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Banter, Listen this fic is short but packed to the brim with feels, omgggggg SO MANY FEELS, and so so lovely the way it comes together, but also hilarious too?, it’s just very THEM, I could also hear all the lines Lewis says in this fic in his accent, I heard his voice speaking them in my head, and I was trying so hard not to laugh out loud as I sat reading, surrounded by strangers lmao, It was so awkward but worth it)

Caves End by @jacaranda-bloom / jacaranda_bloom (40k, E, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, Famous/Non-Famous, Farmer Louis, Rancher Louis is maybe better?, I’ll put both cause Dee said farmer lmao, Footballer Harry, Australia fic, Horseback Riding, Angst, Miscommunication, Dee’s tags about that are hilarious please read them, Hurt/Comfort, This fic is just EVERYTHING, okay, It was so incredibly good)

and all I think about is you and safer by your side (parts 4 and 5 of where the lights are beautiful) by @polkadotlou / twoshipsdrifting (1k each, T, Harry/Louis, Alternate Universe, A/B/O, Alpha Harry, Omega Louis, Established Relationship, Mentions of Heat, Drabbles, Listen this whole series is amazing, and if you haven’t read it then these drabbles won’t have the same power they do otherwise, but they are SO DAMN GOOD OKAY)

Counterculture by @sadaveniren / SadaVeniren (6k, E, Harry/Louis, Omega Harry Fest, A/B/O, Omega Harry, Alpha Louis, Famous/Non-Famous, Underground Clubs, Pack Dynamics, Scenting, Public Sex, Orgies, Pregnancy and Lactation Kink, Like... this fic is FILTHY while still having super cool worldbuilding elements in it, and it’s kinky as shit cause Sada, In other words this is fantastic)

Say Something by @kingsofeverything / kingsofeverything (105k, E, Harry/Louis, Alternate Universe, A/B/O, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Older Harry, Age Difference, Heat/Rut Partners, Friends to Lovers, Kind of?, It’s Complicated lol, MPreg, Divorced Harry, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Harry has a lot of shit to work through, It all works out and it’s so fucking good)

The Until Series by @allwaswell16 / allwaswell16 (62k total, Harry/Louis (parts 1 and 3), Niall/Shawn (Part 2), Big Bang fic and Heartbreak Weather Fest fic, Song Fic, Seriously the whole albums is basically the inspiration lol, Cowboy Harry, Child Actor Harry, Cowboy Shawn, Songwriter Louis, Singer Niall, Farm Fic, Enemies to Lovers, Misunderstanding, So good just all of it, Dumb boys in love lol)

That Smile and That Midnight Laugh by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright (50k, T, Harry/Louis, but also Harry/Nick at the beginning, Big Bang fic, Girl Direction, Based on Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, It’s like an extension and starts where the movie ended, So cool in that way I loved it, Grimmy and Louis are step-siblings, Friends to Lovers, No Cheating if that’s a concern, Sexuality Crisis but it’s more of like a Gay Awakening, Coming of Age story in that way, So freaking soft like omg, I just really freaking loved this fic)

#mine #fic rec #my fic rec #28th appreciation #fic writer appreciation #fic list #may 2021 fic list

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w2beastars · 4 years ago

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Waezi2′s thoughts on “Beast Complex” chapter 12.

This chapter is... It’s...

I have to tell you, it is quite something:)

Our story starts off with a carnivore declaring his love for a herbivore right before he eats her.

So a regular Tuesday in the world of Beastars... And I’m going to hell for that joke.

But no, the snow leopard is not REALLY eating the spotted deer. It’s just the scene in a movie called “Dinner.”

Luke and Rosé are the main characters in the popular and controversial movie about meat eater and vegetarian love(the movie seems like a bad mix of Fifty Shades of Grey and Twilight, but that’s just me). And these two animals did so well that they both won the Academy Award.

On a side note, I think these two animals are perfect as movie stars. The world of Beastars has it’s own norms for what “sexy” and “attractive” means. Slender bodies and big eyes are generally considered good-looking. And white fur, even if it has spots or stipes, are seen as beautiful. So a snow leopard and a spotted deer are just the animals for Hollywood.

Anyway, back to our tale...

The movie “Dinner” got a lot of praise, especially because of Luke’s VERY convincing acting that made people sincerely think he was eating the spotted deer Rosé.

But while Rosé and Luke are in the waiting room to catch a break before their TV interview, Luke drops one hell of a truth bomb on Rosé...

The reason to why Luke could make that performance so believable was that he, while he was stressed over all the pressure from acting, went nuts and ate the duck Bob who was in charge of makeup. So his acting was based on experience so to say.

Some of you probably think it is weird that Luke didn’t just eat some meat from the black marked or something. But this is not about graving for flesh. Luke was super stressed, and that is a bad thing for a carnivore who has to keep his instincts in check. Even poor Legoshi who had fixated on being the least threatening wolf ever almost ate Haru because he had a bad day.

Luke is telling Rosé this because he has decided to confess his crime doing the TV interview and take responsibility for the murder of Bob. But he wants Rosé to know first because there was a moment during the filming of “Dinner” where he actually wanted to eat her and he wants to apologize to her in person first.

... But Rosé tries to convince him not to do it, much to Luke’s surprise. She doesn’t even seem to be that shocked that he wanted to eat her. Luke at first thinks that it is because she is concerned for him and everyone who was involved in the movie... Aaaand then he realizes that she is just worried about her career as an actor. If Luke confesses, the movie will most likely be banned from theaters and television, and her efforts will have gone to waste. This movie is her first big role, but it will forever be ruined by Luke’s confession.

Rosé shows an impressive display of strength and lack of fear when she attacks Luke who is a male predator bigger than she is in order to stop him from leaving their private waiting room so he can’t go confess on live TV. A nice detail is that she grabs him by the tail, a tactic used to subdue felines, something the Shishigumi taught Louis in case he got in trouble with big cats.

It might seem shallow of Rosé to stop Luke from confessing to his crime... and it kinda is... but try and see it from her point of view.

Rosé’s career has been a whole lot of small roles in low budget action movies. Her actual acting talents are not that great and she only got those small roles because she is athletic and physically strong. Something she can’t rely on for much longer since she is 35 years old. The movie “Dinner” could be her breakthrough, giving her actual roles and move her up from simple b-movies.

Luke gets it. He really understands that he is taking Rosé chance of getting better roles away from her. But he has a suggestion that could benefit her. He wants her to be next to him when he gets interviewed so that when he confesses to eating Bob, everyone can see how shocked she is. That way, the media will portrait her as a tragic heroin who was kept in the dark by her savage co-actor. She will win a ton of sympathy and it will very likely boost her career since she will get hired for more movies alone for her promotional value since everyone will thinks she is brave hero as well as a victim of fate.

So... they go to face the press. A journalist asks, as expected, what gave Luke the inspiration for the famous eating scene. Luke confesses that he really did eat another animal...

... And Rosé FUCKS UP BIG TIME!

Look at her! Just... LOOK AT HER!!!

It is bad enough that she looks practically comedic instead of shocked. But she even looks directly at the camera! That poor deer can’t act, even when her career LITTERALLY depends on it!

Even the journalist notices Rosé awful performance. She KNOWS that is not how you look when you get told for the first time that your colleague killed and ate a guy. She is all; “You gotta be kidding me?!” And most of the camera crew notices as well and looks as baffled as she does.

It is most likely that the moment that should have turned Rosé into a media darling instead is gonna make her meme material.

In fact, I think I will make memes out of it:P

#beast complex #beastars #luke beast complex #rosé beast complex

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cyoc49 · 4 years ago

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HIMBO Magazine: Changing Departments

*click! click! click! click!*

Derek listened to the camera flash as he sat on the side of the bed. He was currently doing a photo shoot for HIMBO magazine, a fashion and lifestyle magazine “for the modern gay male™”. Fake blood dripped against his chest - they were doing some Halloween type of shoot. But let’s be honest, the blood wasn’t the focus of the shot: it was his body. Derek had never been the best student - and his attitude certainly didn’t help - but if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was make his body look as sexy as humanly possible. Derek scoured nutrition blogs to make sure he stayed up to date on everything related to fitness, and the dedication showed itself in his beautiful, sculpted body. Sitting here with no shirt on and wearing a pair of lethally tight skinny jeans, he looked like every gay man’s wet dream. To put it simply, Derek was hot as hell; problem is, he knew he was hot at hell.

“Alright, that’s good. I think we have what we need, thank you Mr. Hale” the director said. Derek stood up and two twinkish looking assistants came over to remove the blood. Derek stood still and tried to ignore the two obviously gay men putting their hands all over his body. Derek was the kind of guy who thought all gay men were jumping at the bit for any man they can find. Doing a photo shoot for a gay magazine was certainly not his dream, but hey: a paycheck is a paycheck.

After he was cleaned off, Derek put on a t shirt and enjoyed the feeing of it stretched tight against his pecs. He slung a Louis Vuitton backpack over his shoulders. All he had to do was collect his check and he could be done with this homo magazine. Derek headed towards the doorway connecting the studio space to the rest of the offices. He turned the corner into the hallway, only to immediately crash into someone coming from the opposite direction. Papers went flying.

Derek hesitated, then reluctantly crouched down to help the man pick up his papers. As he did, the man spoke to him in a deep voice “You know, you should really watch where you’re going. People are busy around here.”

This was the remark that set Derek off. It was enough that he had done a photo shoot outside his comfort zone, and ran into someone while he was leaving, but now he was being sassed by some worker who couldn’t slow down enough to watch out for passers. Derek had had enough of this magazine. “You know,” he said, “I’m surprised. I thought you fags would be more excited to slam into other guys.”

Derek could sense the shift in mood immediately. All the workers around him who had been buzzing about immediately stopped and looked at th scene. The office had gone dead silent. As Derek looked around at all the men staring at them, the man he had bumped into finished collecting his papers and stood up, allowing Derek to finally look at him properly. Woah, this was a fine looking man. Strappingly tall and ruggedly handsome. He filled out his expensive-looking three-piece suit perfectly. His whole demeanor was one of absolute confidence. Finally, Derek realized what had happened. He hadn’t bumped into some random employee. He had knocked over and subsequently cussed out the boss of the whole place.

*Well*, Derek said to himself, *I fucked up bad this time*.

The boss was surprisingly well-composed for someone who had just been called a slur, Derek thought. As if to prove this point, the boss suddenly started laughing. It was a good, deep laugh. And when he laughed, everyone else in the building laughed along with him. Derek stared at everyone in the office in confusion. Why did they find this so funny? Was it because he’s their boss? And they were all looking at the boss with such admiration. Derek just hoped this meant the issue would blow over and he could leave before embarrassing himself sooner.

But before he could step away, he was spoken to. “I used to get really angry when people said stuff like that to me,” the boss explained in a rich, inviting voice, “now it just makes me sad, because I see all the failed potential hiding behind that language.”

Derek took a little offense to that last statement, but he knew he was in no position to argue right now. It seemed like the laughter was the all-clear the rest of the office needed to know their boss was okay, because the normal hum of voices and keyboards had returned. Now it was just him and the extremely powerful man he had pissed off. Derek broke the silence. “Look, Mr...”

“Christian Le Maítre” the gorgeous boss informed him, “Editor in Chief of HIMBO magazine. But everyone around here just calls me Mr. M.”

“Right. Well, uh, Mr. M, I’m really sorry about-“

“No you’re not.” Christian cut him off without missing a beat. “I’ve seen so many models like you come and go through these halls. You think you’re hot shit, and take pity on all of my boys in this office who had to take desk jobs because their bodies weren’t nice enough to let them get by on looks alone. But you know, we’re hard workers here. And we’re a close knit family.”

Derek objected to being interrupted, but as Christian talked, he felt his defenses melt away with every word. Mr. M was right, Derek realized. I am a narcissistic asshole who holds myself above others. He had never felt like this before. But everything Mr. M said just seemed right. When this gorgeous, confident man spoke, Derek realized he was speaking the truth.

“What’s your name, son?” Mr. M asked him.

“D-Derek, sir. Derek Hale.” Derek was never one stutter, but how else could he feel right now?

“Well Derek, I’m sure our lame little office doesn’t fit your macho man swagger persona, but I think you’d find that working here is pretty great.”

Was that an offer? Derek didn’t know. He had completely forgotten the context of their conversation, and indeed his reason for being in this office in the first place was slowly becoming a distant memory. All Derek knew in this moment was that he HAD to work at HIMBO. In fact, he couldn’t imagine life without working here.

Derek tried to compose a response, but was increasingly timid in the presence of this incredible man. “Well, uh, Mr. M. Perhaps if you have any opening I might be able to, uh-”

Mr. M just laughed again, and this time Derek laughed right along with him.

“Well I’m shocked to hear you change your tune so quickly, but I can’t say I’m surprised. Working here is kind of a dream job, if I do say so myself. But there’s no need to submit your CV and go through the traditional channels. I am actually prepared to offer you a job on the spot.”

Derek felt his ears burning. How lucky was he! To be offered a job at the best company on earth. He would take it immediately!

“Mr. M, it would be an honor to work for you” Derek bowed his head as he said this. Respect was important, especially for the man who was giving him a job no questions asked.

“Glad to hear it, sport! Now full disclosure, it’s a clerking position. I know, not the most exciting stuff, but here at HIMBO we believe even the most mundane work can be made magical! Of course, you would have to change a few of your behaviors to *best* fit the position. Your ego, your hot-headedness. Do you think those are things good for a clerk to have?”

“No, sir” Derek said with convocation. “Anything you want me to change, I will change.”

Christian cracked a smile, as if Derek had said something unintentionally funny. “Well I admire your commitment. It’s just, clerks are so straight-laced and serious, and you are such a character, Derek. Mr. Macho Man with a great body. Actually, I do like this body.” Christian looked Derek up and down, “I think that can stay. But as for everything else, well, I can take care of that.”

Christian stopped talking and instead just looked at Derek. The hopeful employee stood there silently, unsure of what to do. Just then, he suddenly felt a draining feeling. It wasn’t his muscles or his IQ or any of that stuff that he felt fading away, it was more like he was losing... his personality? All the pride Derek felt over his hot body and great life was disappearing. All the anger he get towards people not like him, slipping away. But it wasn’t replaced by new emotions, it wasn’t replaced by anything. Derek stopped feeling strong feelings about much of anything. He liked his job, he followed the news, but he had never had any opinions of his own. Never tried to be individual or stand out. Derek was becoming like his new favorite flavor of ice cream: vanilla.

As Derek’s personality slowly morphed him into a contender for the World’s Most Dull Man, his wardrobe changed to follow suit. His designer t shirt loosened out a bit. The sleeves grew down his arms before spouting buttons and cuffs. Buttons also sprouted down the middle, and the shirt gained a collar, becoming a basic button-up shirt. A white plaid pattern spread across the shir. At the same time, Derek felt his skinny jeans go “pah” as all the tightness shrugged out of them, changing them into (gag) regular fit pants. They lightened to gray and changed material to thin cotton, becoming work slacks. His new plaid shirt automatically tucked itself into the pants, and a brown leather belt formed around his waist, with his expensive designer sneakers morphing into brown leather dress shoes to match. The LV backpack he wore fell as one of the straps broke off, before disappearing altogether. The remaining strap lengthened and slung itself over his shoulder, and the bag itself shifted into a basic messenger bag, holding plenty of important documents and paperwork.

For a brief moment, Derek felt confusion and fear. Why were these changes happening to him? Where did his nice stuff go, and what were these boring-ass clothes replacing them? These thoughts only lasted for half a second, before Derek realized how right this was. This was his style, or more accurately his *lack* of style. Derek had never cared about trends, or getting fancy new clothes. As long as they fit him well and looked professional enough for work, that was all that mattered in Derek’s eyes. A Ross Membership Card popped into his wallet to cement this change.

Derek felt something in his pocket, and pulled out a pair of black-rimmed glasses. These were the glasses he needed to see, of course. Derek opened them up and put them on. To follow suit, his hair parted itself to the side and became thick with gel holding his new professional haircut in place.

As promised, Christian had left Derek his body, but had taken basically everything else from him. Where there had once stood an arrogant, trendy mode, there was now a walking turtleneck. Normally in cases like this, Derek would sprout new memories of his new life. But no memories came, because Derek didn’t really *have* a life. He was now a total office drone. From 9-5 he worked faithfully for HIMBO, and after that he went home and solved jigsaw puzzles until it was time for bed... except on the nights where Mr. M invited Derek to his house. Derek truly wanted nothing more from life.

Christian smiled at the new corporate boy that stood before him. “Okay I think you’ve handled the onboarding process well, Dirk. Dirk, isn’t it?”

“Yes sir.” Dirk replied matter of factly. Dirk Kent. Filing clerk for HIMBO magazine.

“Great! But there’s actually one more thing I need from you. I’m still a little raw about that comment of yours earlier, and I would hate for it to taint our working relationship with each other, so allow me to bury this hatchet.”

Christian snapped his fingers, and Dirk felt his impressive manhood shrink, and shrink, and shrink, until he heard a “pop!” sound and knew that it was no more. Poor Dirk was smooth as could be in his private areas. But he didn’t mind: being unable to orgasm helped him focus on his work. And besides, if Mr. M needed help Dirk still had two perfectly serviceable holes on him.

Christian laughed again, eliciting another laugh from Dirk. “Dirk, pal, I don’t think I have ever been happier with one of my new hires. But you know, I do seal my deals with a kiss.”

“Why thank you sir!” Dirk replied with enthusiasm, as he allowed Christian to walk over, turn up his chin, and plant a kiss on his lips. And it was the greatest kiss Dirk had ever felt. Indeed, it was the only kiss he had ever felt, but as far as kisses go it was still pretty spectacular. As Dirk stood there with his lips pressed against those of his incredivle boss, he knew there was nothing more he would want from life.

As they parted, Derek looked hopefully up at his boss “Where should I start with my work, sir?” He lived to work.

Christian smiled again. “I’ll film you in on that in a minute, but let me take you to your desk. You’ll be down in the accounting department. In fact, I think you’ll be desk neighbors with our other new hire Bartholomew! You’ll love him. A total nerd but a sweet kid regardless.” Without warning, Christian turned and walked down the hall. He didn’t need to say anything. Dirk instinctively followed him, just as he instinctively obeyed every command Mr. M gave him. Life was easier that way.

#gaytf #gay #officetf #suittf #tyler hoechlin #suit #slick hair #derek hale #teen wolf tf #nerd derek #nerd Derek hale

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princess-of-inarizaki · 4 years ago

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hello ! if ur requests are currently open, can i get headcanons / scenario of inarizakis manager having a celeb crush (like finn wolfhard, louis partridge ALSO if u can, can u please make the celeb crush louis patridge ? im kinda desperate for sum louis x reader scenarios lawl) and they let them simp for him cuz it's just a crush right ? right, what they don't know is that manager-chan has made some attempts for him (their celeb crush) to notice them and they have successfully made him notice them bc manager chan is such a charm, so what will be their reactions if they see manager chan holding hands with the celeb crush that they didn't worry ab ? thank u in advance if u do it ! but it's fine if ur requests aren't open,, i just didn't see any posts ab ur requests being closed hehe also sorry if i did this wrong 😭 this is my first time requesting sumthn 😭😭

Louis Patridge x Inarizaki manager

Oh my goshhh hi bb. I'm so glad I was your first :D (yes, initially, requests were closed, unfortunately) but this was literally such a good one, I couldn't resist writing it. (I'm in love with Louis Patridge too, bubs)

Also, just a tip (if you're gonna request on anon, make sure you follow me, or have my profile saved because tumblr doesn't give you a notification when I've answered you 🥺🥺)

🦋; Inarizaki manager (reader) x Louis Patridge (celeb crush) x Inarizaki vbc ,, triggers: none!!

“Guys. DID YOU WATCH ENOLA HOLMES?” your breathless face was red due to fact that you've ran a long way, obviously to tell them this.

Atsumu and Osamu nodded in unison, “Yea, that Millie Bobbi Brown chick acted prett' well”

Suna rolled his eyes. “Hated it. Only watched it for Superman, though.”

Kita shrugged, walked up to you, and shook his head as he smoothed your hair down (the stray curls obviously came undone as you were running). “I don't watch fictious movies, y/n-san. Was it good?”

Eyes sparkling, you nodded. “It was more than good. Besides, that actor, Louis Patridge? The guy who plays Lord Tewkesbury? I think I'm in love with him.” a dream-like look glazed over your eyes as you stared at your phone wallpaper wistfully.

Suddenly, the bell rang, jolting you back to reality. “Oh that's right, I need to go to class now.”, and with that, you left six very stunned boys in the gym.

“I wonder what'll be of her crush on that' actor?” asked Atsumu with a smirk. Don't be fooled though, behind the easygoing exterior, he was the most concerned of the lot (and the most jealous).

“Yer' overthinking it. They live oceans apart, and he plays movies on the big screen.” drawled Osamu.

“Yeah, I'm sure one of us still has more chance with her than him, she's actually met us, after all.” chirped Akagi, with a positive note. He was determined to win you over, and a celeb crush didn't deter him in any way.

Suna nodded, whilst Kita and Aran exchanged looks. “It's important to be supportive of her though. Albeit it being merely a schoolgirl crush, this could mean a lot to her.” said Kita, and his tone invited no further disagreement.

Back at home that evening, thoughts of the handsome brown haired boy could not leave your mind, and you logged onto Instagram, hoping to see if he had posted any updates.

He had, and it was a selfie of himself, with his tousled hair in all its "I-just-got-out-of-bed" glory. Damn, this man was sexy.

Smiling, you typed out a comment. “No offense, but if being adorable was a crime, you'd have fine written all over you ˃ᴗ˂ ”. Yes, it was dorky, and cheesy all in one. But why not? He might not ever read it anyways, as your comment got swept underneath the hundreds of others that came after it.

Sighing, you settled down to study, with thoughts about the comment and Louis pushed out of your mind.

Meanwhile, as Louis scrolled through his comments, a single one caught his eye. She used a pickup line (how adorable) which caused his cheeks to redden. Tentatively, he surveyed her profile, before feeling the familiar sensation of having a crush, wash over him.

She was gorgeous, and although he knew he shouldn't stalk random pretty girls over the internet, he couldn't help himself. Her pictures showed her to be the manager of a club of some sort, and she was almost always posing with a teammate. A male, teammate.

But damn, that smile. Even if he felt a small pit of unfounded jealousy at the guys, her smile was enough to distract him from anything.

His fingers hovered over the "follow back" button, before he finally gave in to temptation by following her, commenting, and putting his phone away quickly, suddenly feeling like a schoolboy all over again.

That morning, before school, you could barely believe the notifications waiting for you on your phone.

"louispatridge_ is following you"

"louispatridge_ commented: nah, if anyone's fine, it's gotta be you ˃ᴗ˂ "

Of course, after having seven mini panic attacks, and fawning over him, you set out to tell your boys at the volleyball club the good news.

And all you could think about on the way there was how Louis Patridge somehow noticed you. It was unbelievable, and somehow turned your insides to jelly.

As soon as you reached the gym, you flung yourself on Atsumu, engulfing him in a hug. “Guys I'm so happy” you managed to choke out.

Atsumu obviously enjoyed holding you, and he gently wrapped his arms around you to feel your heart beating quickly

“To what do we owe the pleasure of seeing you this early, y/n?” joked Aran.

Wordlessly, you dug into your pocket and pulled out your phone. “He thinks I'm fine. Fine means hot right? I mean, I used it meaning hot. Because he is hot. And he thinks the same of me, that's gotta be good? And the emoticon. He used the same one, he's so cu—”

But you were interrupted out of your whisper-babble by the boys' shocked faces. He noticed her? This fast? “I'm so happy for you, y/n” said Akagi cheerfully, but internally he was demotivated and sad at the prospect of you dating the young star.

Suna looked at you thoughtfully and ruffled your hair. “That's my girl. She's just as amazing and capable as those girls on the silver screen.” and although it pained him to say this, he just wanted to share your happiness.

The twins were withdrawn, and Kita congratulated you, whilst obviously feeling a bit regretful for dismissing it as a "schoolgirl crush".

In general, the boys were upset, but not surprised. If you had them all collectively whipped for you, why not a movie star?

After kissing Suna's cheek and waving the rest of the boys off, you skipped all the way to homeroom, excited to share the news with your friends.

Silence followed your absence as Aran shrugged. “So are we gonna acknowledge the elephant in the room?”

Atsumu pouted and glared at them all. “Why did he have to notice her? Was it her profile picture? I've always asked her to change it, she looks way too attractive.”

Osamu nodded and jutted his bottom lip. “I mean, we think she's the most beautiful girl in the world, and apparently other guys do too.”

“Oh God make it stop” whispered Suna. “I wish she'd just stay ours. I don't mind competing with you guys, I'm obviously better, but that actor dude? No chance.”

“We'll be supportive” reaffirmed Kita. “Above all, she's out friend and we do not own her. If this makes her happy, we won't ruin it.”. Akagi and Aran were quiet.

Ever since that day, you and Louis have been slowly but steadily growing closer and falling harder for each other.

He tried his luck by texting you, and although you were shy and tentative at first, getting to know the real him was refreshing.

And you really did like him. He was intelligent, adorable, and realistic. The two of you spent your time from dusk till' dawn talking, whether on call or on text.

And no one could deny the blossoming chemistry between yourself and Louis. He was a gentleman in every way, and his honeyed words stuck in your heart, finding its way to be replayed every time you felt down.

The boys slowly saw you drifting away. And when you weren't, it was always "Louis this—" or “Louis said—” and frankly their hearts couldn't take it anymore. It was time to give up, and love you as a friend instead.

But immersed in his attention you barely even noticed.

One day, Louis called you as you were heading home after practice. “y/n! Love, guess what?”

“aw bubs, just tell me. I hate guessing. Mostly because I suck at it.”

You could hear him chuckle on the other side of the line as he softly whispered “I'm coming to Japan on the ninth!”

“Wait, Louis. Today's the ninth.”

“I know. So are you gonna come to that bubble tea place you won't shut up about, or must I come get you?”

“You're joking”

“I'm not. I've wanted to surprise you, and I swear it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Which includes getting kicked by a horse on set, but nevermind about that, y/n, I want to see you, so get your arse here.”

“Coming, Lord Tewkesbury”

“I might have a kink.”

You blushed bright red at his words. “shut up oh my gosh, I'll be there.”

Louis ended the call with a small smile on his face. He knew how easily flustered you were with him and he loved it. It was just another thing on the list of all the reasons why Louis Patridge adored you to hell and back.

The whole way to the shop, your heart was pounding. So you'd finally get to meet the guy you've been dreaming about ever since you laid eyes on him in a movie.

Ever since those late night phone calls and early morning texts made your heart race and eyes sparkle with wonder.

You were finally meeting him.

The familiar sweet smell of the tea washed over you, and a familiar face waited for you at the entrance. His brown eyes looked gorgeous in the sun and his hair was tousled exactly the way you once saw in a selfie.

Wasting no time, you ran to him, pulling him to a hug. He laughed and caught you in his arms, holding you closer as your legs wrapped around his waist. No words were exchanged, just touches. There were too many words said already.

After pulling away, he gently stroked his thumb through your features. Tucking a strand aside, ruffling your hair. His hands ached to touch you, and now, finally, he could.

“You're such a dork.” was all you could whisper, afraid speaking loudly would break the spell.

“Your dork. All yours.”

“Louis!” your voice went an octave higher as the familiar warm sensation came over your cheeks, painting them a delicate pink.

“Oh God, I've always wanted to see you blush. How can you be so adorable?? Oh God.”

You whined in protest, but frankly, you were too happy to be around him to care much at all.

Tipping your chin to face him, Louis Patridge did the one thing he dreamt of doing, ever since he stalked through your Instagram profile one fateful morning.

He kissed you.

And wouldn't you know it? You kissed him back. It was warm, comforting, and everything you thought it'd be.

Meanwhile, the boys had finished cleaning up the gym, and started heading home.

“Hey guys, do you wanna go grab some bubble tea?” asked Aran. The prospect of food, or sweet things always cheered up the boys, and after a day of particularly grueling practice, it was no surprise they agreed at once.

You however, were comfortably nestled next to Louis as you swapped stories. Your hands never left each other, though. He kept stroking your palm, just to remind himself you were here, right next to him.

“So how's the volleyball club, Mrs. manager?”

“Mrs? Do I look like I'm married?” to which Louis responded with a shrug and wink.

Coincidentally, the Inarizaki boys entered the shop at that very moment, freezing in their tracks after seeing you in a booth with Louis.

“Psst. Guys. Loverboy's here.”

“Should we say hello?”

“I might cry if they kiss” whimpered Akagi.

“We need to say hello, it's the right thing to do.” said Kita sensibly, as he walked up to the two of you. “Hello y/n-san, Louis-san.” said Kita with a slight nod.

Happily, you rose from your seat and hugged the captain, thanking him for saying hi, as you introduced him to Louis.

Soon, the other boys came around and one by one, introduced themselves as well. Honestly speaking, they were jealous. How could they possibly get over someone like you? Someone as spectacular and beautiful as you? But when they saw you face shining with radiance as you smiled at Louis, and the way his hands never left yours, they understood.

And they wanted you to be happy. That was the most important thing, above all else for the both of them.

“I love you, manager-chan.”

251 notes · View notes

beautifulletdownfics · 5 years ago

Text

The Nearness of You - A Harry Styles One Shot

A friends to lovers one shot feat. birthdays, pining and stolen purses.

Hello, please enjoy this fever dream fic that came to me a week ago and is now somehow 13.5k and gracing your eyeballs. I’ve never written a one-shot of this nature before and it was quite a refreshing distraction from my usual, long-form fics. Thank you to Anne @oh-honey-styles for the encouragement (bullying) and for posting the pic that inspired it all. To everyone else, read on x katey *Because this is quite lengthy, I’d recommend opening in a browser because the Tumblr app can be glitchy*

My masterlist Chat to me here

“When you're in my arms And I feel you so close to me All my wildest dreams came true” The Nearness of You, Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong

You love the cold.

London in February isn't everybody's cup of tea, but you feel positively giddy walking down the icy Soho street in your new & Other Stories snow boots. The hard, black leather is already making your toes ache, and they're rubbing against the heel of your left foot, but they'll stretch to size, and you can tell these are going to be Your Signature Boots. The wind whips against your cheeks, red flushing them as you cross the laneway and push open the door to the chic little restaurant you've followed on Instagram for years but never had an excuse to try. Figures Harry chose it for tonight. Sometimes you wondered if the coincidences were a little too … Coincidental.

"Hi," you smile brightly to the maître d', "I'm uh … I'm here for the birthday? For Harry?"

Do I need to say his surname? You think to yourself.

"Can I have your name, please?" The suited man pulls a piece of paper out of the reservations book and waits for you to identify yourself. Your chest is rattling from the cold and the flurry of nerves you're all too familiar with ignoring.

"Y/N," you say your full name, taking in the dark floor of the restaurant, the flickering candles on the tables and lining the bar that takes up the entire left side of the room. The whole place is beautiful, just like you've double-tapped online; all deep reds and burgundies, vintage posters, and mismatched, dark wooden furniture. A jazz record plays just loudly enough to fuse the conversations at all the tables into one comfortable sound. It would make for a sexy place for a date, you decide, stolen touches under the table would feel thrilling and seductive.

The maître d' nods, you're on the list, "Back in the private dining room," he says, "Follow me this way."

You push your evening bag further up your shoulder and walk half the length of the bar, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. You catch the bartender watching you as you go, he's cute, and you give him an awkward little wave before calling out ahead of you.

"Sorry, excuse me," you get the attention of the man leading you through, "Can you point me to where I need to go? I'm going to get a drink to take in first if that's okay?"

"Just there," he points to the doorway at the back, next to the kitchen pass, "The curtain on the right."

Thanking him, you watch as he walks back to his station by the front door. You turn to the bar and rest your hands on the cool wood. They've stuck the pages together of old Little Golden Books for the drink menus, but you'll be ordering what you always get on birthdays, so don't take in the beverage options as you flip through The Tawny Scrawny Lion. You remember it from when you were a kid.

The bartender moves to stand in front of you, a gleam in his eyes and flirtatious smirk on his face, "Pretty good read, that one. You have to order a drink though, this isn't a library."

You laugh, he's laying it on a bit thick but probably just after the tip, "I was more a The Poky Little Puppy sort of girl."

He gives you a grin of approval, flipping a napkin up onto the bar in front of you, "What can I make for you?"

"I'll have two Old Fashioneds, please," you lean forward onto your elbows to give your feet a rest as he pulls up a second napkin and then two crystal, lowball glasses. "They're pretty," you comment without thinking.

"It's all about the glass," he confirms quickly, dropping brown sugar cubes into each one and then shaking bitters on top. Your eyes focus on the way the squares dissolve and fall in on themselves as he speaks again, "I'm Jack."

"Y/N," you give your name for the second time, throwing a brief smile his way, "I've never actually watched someone make these before."

Jack pauses and gives you a teasing look, "Do you want me to stop so you can get something to write this all down?"

You laugh and roll your eyes at him as he goes back to making the drinks. You're stalling. You know when you go through the curtain in the back there'll be a dozen people who're all dressed nicer than you, with more impressive jobs than you, who have funnier, more outrageous stories about the birthday boy than you. You'll need to stand awkwardly in the doorway for a few moments too long before Harry notices you, and then your greeting will be watched by all his cool, London friends.

You know better than to let any of that dull your shine—you really do—but you've had a rough few months, and if you're honest, you'd like your first time seeing Harry since the summer to be a little more low-key than this. So that's why you're wearing the new boots that hurt and might not suit the dress code because they're new and you feel good wearing them with this outfit. It feels a little special to be out celebrating Harry's (belated) birthday in a semi-new ensemble. You managed to fluke getting your hair and makeup just right, and yes, your legs do look pretty fantastic in these tights with the short, roll neck, knit dress, thank you very much.

"Here you go," Jack brings your attention back to him, you can smell the citrus twist in front of you, and the crystal glass deflects the light from the candles, "Can I put this on a tab for you? You're with the birthday?"

"I'll pay," you tell him, already digging for your card and holding it out to him.

"Oi!" You hear a very familiar voice call out from the far end of the bar, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you shiver, "What're you payin' for? What's she—don't take her money!"

You keep your arm out steadily to Jack and raise your eyebrows at him, "Take it," you urge him quickly, feeling him pluck it from your fingers just as you turn towards the voice you know so well.

That familiar Tom Ford cologne hits your nose just as Harry hurries up and deposits himself heavily against the bar, right up in your personal space. His broad frame blocks out the room to you, and he's lit softly in the dim light and looking radiant from within, as per usual. He's got his crazy eyes out—accusing you—and his eyebrows are pinched together slightly, but he looks good. Happy. Rested. Pleased to see you.

Harry's always pleased to see everyone, you tell yourself, Hold it together.

He pulls you into his chest for a hug. Your cheek presses just below his pecs, and you feel the way he's grown more defined since you last saw him. The material of his t-shirt is soft and smells clean. It's a tight squeeze he gives you, one that you resist reading into. Was it healthy for there to be so much comfort in a simple hug? Was your whole body allowed to tingle and fizz from the embrace of a friend? Was it pathetic to have been carrying around in your ribcage the same crush from when you were thirteen?

Affirmative. Without a doubt. Yes.

You haven't seen Harry since mid-September, the last time he was in London. Well, the last time he was in London and had time to see you. You're sure there were probably business trips, Christmas definitely. And going off Instagram, you think he might've flown into Manchester and spent a long weekend with Anne back in October, but if it was any of your business, it would've been your business. You needed to be grateful simply for what you got; intermittent texts about books he'd read or maybe a happy drunk voicemail if he thought of you at the right time. He sent an email at Christmas with a charitable contribution in your name instead of a gift.

"It's so good to see you," Harry says as he pulls away, all crinkled eyes and broad smiles. You don't know your grin has launched his heart into space and that despite having just gone to the bathroom, Harry feels due for a nervous wee. He thinks you look fucking gorgeous tonight. Knowing you've done your hair, and eyeliner, and picked that dress to come out and celebrate his birthday … It sends a jolt of desire straight to his groin—beauty blooms in front of his eyes in you.

Tell her, you idiot. Twenty-seven could be the year.

"Hi," you chirp at him happily and pick up one of the glasses in front of you, "I got you a drink."

Harry watches you fondly and then dramatically looks off to the side, lets out a little huff, "Typical Y/N, buying her own drink … You really think I wouldn't have one here for you?"

Nevertheless, he says a quiet thank you, takes the glass from you and deliberately sniffs it as if he's not sure what's inside or if he'll like it. You smack his arm lightly at the show and pick up your own glass, chinking it to the side of his and watching him over the rim as you both take your first sips. The familiar taste and view fill your tummy with gurgling happiness that sits high in your chest. He's dressed almost exactly how you expected him to be—smart, high-waisted dress pants and a printed t-shirt. You're glad you didn't go too formal, the restaurant is nice, but it's not Hatted or anything, not like the place he took you in LA that time, where you felt like the biggest idiot in the world for not realising beforehand, was properly fancy.

"Fuckin' delicious," he rumbles slowly, bringing you back to the cocktail, "A classic."

"Happy birthday," you tell Harry sweetly, thankful for what's likely to be your only quiet moment with him all night, "Sorry I couldn't make it to the LA party."

"Ah," Harry waves you off, "Your job's much too important here."

He means it. Harry's beyond proud of you. He's always telling people you work for the NHS, saving lives and keeping the country going. The party in LA was thrown together by some people at the last minute, and even though most of the friends he left in the backroom when he went to find the bathrooms a few moments ago were able to fly across for it, Harry's not the least bit put out by you not being able to. Would've been a big trip for you to do on your own and he knew there's no way you'd miss his London celebration. And you sent over a gift, which shouldn't have surprised him. His actual birthday was spent in LA, and that morning a parcel arrived from you—two new notebooks and a novel Harry read the back of and instantly knew he would love. It's what he read on the flight home to the UK.

Trust you to want him to have the gift on his birthday—go to all that trouble of packaging it and sending it over—when you were going to see him in London ten days later anyway. Harry could do worse than a friend like you.

"I just need a bit more notice than four da—

—Please," Harry's shaking his head at you, hating watching you apologise for something he really doesn't care about. "I'm glad you're here tonight," he tells you genuinely, fingers reaching out to brush your bangs away from your eyebrow briefly and—did the room just spin around you?—get a glimpse of the bronze sheen over your eyelids, "I haven't seen your new hair in person, looks lovely."

Lovely? he scolds himself, Lovely is a nice jam scone, lovely is a hug from mum …

"Oh," you coo, automatically sending your own fingers up to where Harry's had just been to reposition your newish bangs, "Thanks, still getting used to it, wanted to do it forever but wasn't brave enough to I guess."

"I like your natural hair colour, too," he continues slowly, eyes running over your whole head, "I mean, I loved how it used to be … But I like this a lot."

Shit, Harry's already failing to adhere to the strict series of pep talks he's given himself over the last couple of days. He's babbling, and he's probably just made you think he's not liked how you've had your hair for the previous twelve years. Is he buzzed from the cocktail or from the way your cheeks have gone a little pink since he touched you? His compliment made you squirm, and Harry wants to do it again and again until what he's feeling makes sense.

"Just, you know, feels like a throwback to the old days," he mumbles through another sip of the cocktail you both love, a glint appears in his eyes as he continues, "When you had Barbie overalls and would spend half a day plaiting your whole head in those tiny little rat tails."

Your mouth opens into a horrified O, and you let out a single laugh, "Rat tails? They were cool. And I was eleven when we met, I'd definitely already outgrown the Barbie overalls."

"Whatever you say," Harry smirks at you, signature dimples appearing on his cheeks, "I just remember those little beads from the ends of them ending up all over the bottom of the pool."

You smile at the memory. You remember duck diving with Gemma to collect all the beads so they could be put back into your hair the next day. Nearly drowning from laughing so hard at Harry and the other boys trying to stand on your backs in the water. Summers with Harry were always spent laughing. The local pool and skate park saw all your adventures. When Harry's dad moved in next door to your family after his parent's divorce, you and your brother hung off the fence, peering into the backyard to see if any toys or a trampoline might appear signally new kids next door. They didn't, and it wasn't until the summer when Harry and Gemma arrived for their holidays that you jumped the fence with ice lollies and offered yourself up as a new friend.

"Simpler times," you muse to yourself, looking up and catching the perplexed look Harry was giving you, "Spaced out a bit, sorry."

"I've missed my little weirdo," he grins at you affectionately, angling a little closer and levelling his head down to yours as he bit his lip and frowned, "Are you doing alright though?"

You let out a little sigh and avert your eyes to where Jack, the bartender, is busy making trays of drinks for different tables. Harry observes you carefully, a twinge of guilt forms for causing the sad look that's come over your face, but also for not having asked the question weeks ago. Gemma told him at Christmas, an off-handed comment about you being newly single. When he heard the evil gremlin in him was fucking relieved, just like he always was.

"I'm fine," you try a smile out and pull your lips up higher when you don't think Harry buys it, "Better. Had my crisis haircut and drank myself to tears with my work friends. Just a normal break up, really. M'getting used to them at this point."

A small, white lie.

Each breakup bruises you deeply. Talking about it afterwards fills you with a shame that makes you feel naked, like everyone else can see what's wrong with you but you. As though it's obvious why nobody's picked you yet. You don't ever want to talk about it afterwards, (especially not with Harry) don't want to draw attention to it. Prefer to let the disappointment and loneliness pool in your tummy and sit there heavily, weighing you down, waiting for the One Day someone spectacular might come along and be buoyant enough to float away with you.

You're looking for your forever. You want the cheesy romance, and the love, and marriage, and kids, and the whole stupid thing. You want to be wanted and loved and cherished. That's what you're ready for. You just can't find anyone who's ready for that with you. So, you date, have mediocre boyfriends who rarely make it to the first anniversary, then pick up the pieces and try again.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

"Well," Harry swallows, reaches out for your arm to make sure you look at him, "You look beautiful tonight. And it's his loss, he's clearly a monumental idiot."

You give Harry a noncommittal hum in response. Just as you're about to say something you shouldn't—get into details you bet Harry really isn't that interested in knowing—you catch the movement of someone appearing from the doorway behind Harry and then approaching you both.

"Harry, mate," you don't know the guy who's recognised Harry's back and is calling out for his attention now, "Thought you might've fallen in."

Harry snaps around quickly to the voice, blocking your view. You take another sip of your drink and pull in a deep breath. Not fitting into any of Harry' groups socially has its downfalls. If his sister wasn't around, you tended to have to make friends at anything Harry invites you to. You're not part of his Holmes Chapel crew or his LA friends, and you definitely don't fit into the London group. Over the years there have been faces you've come to find familiar, but you're still the singular, hanger-on friend from Harry's second childhood home.

Peering around Harry's shoulder, you catch the end of a look between the two guys you think alludes to this new friend gauging whether Harry needs rescuing from you. You briefly wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. You know that look well.

"Aiden, this is Y/N," Harry raises his arm and angles to pull you around in front of him.

You hold up your drink, awkwardly, "Hi."

Aiden gives you a hesitant smile, "Hello," then he raises his eyebrows at Harry, "Harry, you coming back in, mate?"

Harry bites his lip and chuckles, reading the look on his friend's face, "You're a prick, I don't need saving. Known Y/N since I was twelve, we were just catching up."

You feel yourself go bright red, and you're thankful for the forgiving lighting. This isn't the first time this exact scenario has happened to you. You've been on the receiving end of that uneasy look before—his friends checking if the girl who isn't there with anyone else is supposed to be there at all. Backstage at the O2, a member of Harry's security once hauled you to the tour manager's office to check your VIP credentials were legitimate. You'll take that story with you to the grave.

Aiden deflates slightly and waves a hand your way, "Shit, sorry, thought he'd been cornered by a fan again … I mean, a pretty fan to say the least but …" he coughs into his hand when Harry gives him a glare you don't see, "Great to meet you."

"No worries," you wave it off like it's nothing. The truth is your brain has short-circuited at Harry's palm resting on the small of your back, he's not moved it from when he first brought you forward. Friendly touches weren't strange between you, but this lingering, comforting hand is burning a hole in you tonight. You haven't been out and had anyone touch you since your breakup, and Harry is setting off all you nerve endings. You tilt your weight onto your other foot to pull back from him slightly, but Harry's hand travels with you. "We should go back, I might use the loo first though, is it that way?"

Harry watches you point in the direction of the bathroom, you're flustered and he really wishes he could tell Aiden to buzz off so he could just take another few minutes with you. Brief you on who was in the room you were about to go into. You wouldn't know any of them, and Harry always appreciated that you came to things on your own, particularly when you wouldn't know anyone aside from him once you got there. He should have invited his sister so you'd have a buddy. Or told you to bring a friend. Not a boyfriend, though.

He watches you take the final drag from your drink and put the glass down on top of the bar, "Thanks Jack, t' was dee-lish," you catch the attention of the bartender, throwing him a beaming grin. And Harry watches the way the guy's features light up at being called on by you. Envy rumbles in Harry's gut, he recognises the dumb smile and dopey nod of Barman Jack's head. Has felt it a hundred times himself when he's been on the receiving end of your quirky humour.

You walk away, and Harry feels Aiden watching him, "She's fit," he comments, trying to get a rise out of Harry, reading the room perfectly.

"Fuck you," Harry grunts at him.

Harry sits opposite you at the long table in the private dining room.

You nurse a glass of rosé and eat the food slowly, savouring it. You deliberated over the menu for a long time before settling on what to order, you've seen photos of most of the dishes online, but there were several new ones too. Harry goes off your recommendations but spends a lot of the dinner talking to the people sitting beside him. He knows if he tried talking to you right now, he'd just get lost in you, which is both rude for a birthday party and bound to be too conspicuous.

You insert yourself into a conversation with the girls sitting next to you and pretend you're good at making friends. They spend most of the meal talking about something that was on the telly the night before. You were on shift so missed it, but pretend to be interested or like you might've seen it—anything to not stick out like a sore thumb.

Harry watches you out the corner of his eye the whole time. You've shrugged off your jacket, and he recognises the gold necklace you've got around the collar of your dress, sitting over the black fabric on your chest. He's pretty sure it was a gift from Gemma a few years ago, you wear it all the time. Harry makes a note to get you something that compliments it for your birthday coming up. You're chatting to one of his mate's girlfriends and Lisa who's been on his publicity team for years. Those would've been the two he'd have introduced you to first as well. He can't stop watching the way your lips turn up every time something funny is said, or one of the girls makes eye contact with you. Watching you try with his other friends always makes Harry feel warm and giddy for some reason.

Fuck, he's missed you. And he berates himself for the fact he never seems to remember that until he sees you again. (It's strategic usually, his heart doesn't take your company well when he knows you're going home to someone else) You're so engaging and kind and unintentionally charming, and you always have time for him. Harry knows he's not an easy human to be friends with; he constantly ducks in and out and is never around for the big things, let alone being available to call on a random day to just hang out with. The friendship is always on his terms, and he knows it makes him a selfish prick. You definitely could've done with a call a couple of months back when you had your heart broken. Like always, he missed it, and by the time he was sending you a message about an episode of Midsomer Murders, he felt as though the moment to console you had passed, and Harry didn't want to draw attention to the fact he wasn't around for it.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" His head snaps back around to the person next to him, thoughts still on you across the table. He agrees with whatever was said and does his best to catch up.

Harry's got to stop thinking about how you're single at the moment. He really does.

A few hours later, it's the girl sitting to your left, Lisa, who first mentions the idea of kicking on.

It's after dessert—after everyone sang happy birthday to Harry over a round of espresso martinis—and you're starting to think that if you leave now, you'll be home before midnight, which means the tube won't be too deserted to feel safe. You're also at a comfortable place to wake up without a hangover in the morning. Two cocktails and a glass of wine over dinner, because any more and you're scared you could say something stupid to the wrong (right) person.

Harry's face lights up, and he looks around the room, eager at the idea of going to a bar or two for more drinks. He's not been out in London for the longest time, and he's happily buzzed enough to not be too worried about running into people. Feels like this group of friends have gelled well together. How often does he get to have a night like this in London? Hardly ever.

"Yeah, let me sort out the tab and then we're good to go," Harry says, pushing his seat back from the table and standing up, his hands hunting his pockets for his wallet and phone, "I'll be right back."

When he goes, you decide now's as good a time as any to split. You pull your coat on and say goodbye to the friends you made over the meal. Lisa gives you her business cards as if speaking to you had been part of her job, you slip it straight into your coat pocket and can already picture it at the bottom of the garbage in your kitchen. You revisit the bathrooms, and when you come back out into the main restaurant area, Harry's still leaning against the front desk, chatting to the maître d' from earlier.

He feels your small hand land on his back and jolts upright at the contact, your gentle voice calling his name softly, "Harry, I'm going to head home."

He spins around, and you catch the fall of his face, "What? No … No. You're the one I want to hang out with the most," his bottom lip juts out and his brows furrow. "Y/N."

"Thanks a fuckin' lot, mate," you hear a male voice laugh at your back, they slip behind you and out into the chilly air, and Harry flips them the bird. You were pushed closer into his chest as they jostled past and he steadied you with his arms latched onto your forearms. Still watching outside, you see a cigarette lighter flare-up on the footpath and the end of an orange butt glow spectacularly in the night. When you glance back at Harry, he's not looking happy.

"Don't pout," you tell him lightly, you reach up and press the skin taut between his eyes smooth again, "Can't wrinkle that rockstar face of yours."

His face lights up, and his skin heats where you made contact, "You can't go yet."

"Harry," your features tangle into something like a grimace, "You'll have a better time without me. Everyone seems to be pretty tight—"

—Y/N," he gives you a final, pleading look, "Please come."

You make out like you're stomping your foot in defiance, "Fine."

"Score!" Harry cheers under his breath, shrugging his jacket up over his shoulders and saying a final round of thank yous to the staff. When you're out on the street at Harry's side somebody mentions the name of the next place and points the direction of it, Harry places a hand on your shoulder as you start to walk and leans down to your ear, "I just have one condition for you coming."

You pull back and look at him, "I don't think you get conditions when you've begged me to be here."

"A birthday condition then," he edits, pressing his lips together and smiling at you with his eyes, "You have to promise to do what I say before I ask it."

You narrow your eyes at him, "I suppose you only turn twenty-seven once. You can have a single wish from me."

Harry laughs and slips his fingers under the strap of your evening bag, "Give me this."

You think briefly he means to carry it for you, which is a strange thing for Harry to request. But then he unzips it in front of you and starts rifling around inside it, slipping your phone under his arm so he can move around the lipstick and tissues and emergency Galaxy bar to eventually pull out your small purse.

"Harry! What are you—

—Ah, ah!" He holds it all away from you and reminds you of the promise. "This is mine for the night," he says, slipping your purse into his coat pocket. "Otherwise you'll end up buying too many rounds."

You try to sneak your hand into the pocket after your wallet, "Don't be stupid. It's your birthday, I'll buy every round if I need to."

"Exactly my point," he steps away from you down the street, and you skip to be back at his side. He's stolen your money and your chocolate bar.

"Harry, give it back."

"Nope," he pops the 'p' and hands you back the bag, the Galaxy bar hanging from between his teeth, still in the packet, "You promised. Now hurry up and walk, and I might give you a bite of this. 'm freezing my balls off, we are not in LA anymore."

So that's how you end up in the next bar, your handbag a little lighter, squished into Harry's side with a pleasantly sour cocktail he paid for between your fingers. The booth is so far into the back wall you're not even really sure which direction the front door is anymore. Somehow, you've managed to sit ten people around a booth probably designed for six, but nobody seems to be bothered.

Your whole right side is on fire, though.

You can feel Harry from the top of your shoulder all the way to your ankle. His hip sits neatly next to yours, Harry's left elbow rests just above your right thigh, and your knees press together every time he gets excited when he speaks and unintentionally opens his legs up. If Harry's bothered by it there's no way you'd know, he's hardly looked at you since you all sat down, much less uttered a word of discomfort about the seating arrangements. Makes no sense really, when he seemed so desperate for you to stay out with them.

(Next to you Harry's felt like he was high most of the time, he's flashing in and out of the conversations around him. Because he can smell your perfume—Stella by Stella McCartney, he'd know that fragrance anywhere, you've been wearing it since you were seventeen—and you're warm and snug beside him. He feels completely insane. But he also feels inflated with a heart-crushing joy at having you so close. He's trying his best not to draw attention to it or to you because what he's always liked most about your friendship is that you're just his. God, he needs to do better at seeing you more often, talking more, being more. Each breath as he's touching you is like a crack of electricity through his chest that aches beautifully. Nobody else feels like this. Even when he's dated, what he's felt with them can't hold a candle to his boyhood crush on you.)

You sip your drink and laugh at the embarrassing story that's being told about Harry, oblivious to his torment. Oblivious to how Harry feels your forearm brush his leg and has the overwhelming desire to deposit his palm on your thigh and keep it there, probably forever.

It strikes you that the last time you saw Harry was before the current anecdote about him in Italy happened, and at the table, it's being spoken about as though it was ancient history. You wonder what historic classification your memory of thirteen-year-old Harry would get, that time he attempted to bleach his hair with lemon juice. He ended up with second-degree burns on his forehead from the acid reacting with the sun.

Or the time Gemma stayed in Holmes Chapel for the summer because she had her first boyfriend, and so you spent six weeks learning that maybe you'd been wrong about who your favourite Styles child was. Maybe the boy who, when you were eleven, didn't impress you much, suddenly at thirteen, demanded all your attention. Made that summer become the first where you considered your outfits and whether your mum sending you next door with homemade snacks made you look lame.

"… And of course, Harry can't walk away from a dance floor when he's on the tequila …" everyone around the table laughs. Harry peeks at you to make sure you are too, but he's not very good at it because you notice, a smile flares on your lips.

You're used to long periods of not seeing each other, it's how it's always been. Harry and Gemma spent the summers with their dad and then returned to Holmes Chapel for real life. Sometimes that's what it still felt like, as though each time you saw either of them you were acutely aware there was a foreign Real Life they would go back to without you.

Harry in particular. You were used to not seeing him for months on end, usually the whole school year. Just a few messages over MySpace and birthday cards, and then, when you were out of school, invites to parties Harry couldn't come to anymore—'I'm in Australia, how insane is that? Sorry, I'll miss your 18th …' or 'I can only stay until the 8th, could you maybe graduate a week earlier? ;)'—and emails every other month with a new mobile number for you to overwrite his contact in your phone with. You're not saying you feel hard done by in your friendship, you don't. It's just always very take-what-you-can-get with Harry.

"You've got your thinky eyes on," he's pivoted his whole body towards you, hips twisted in an entirely uncomfortable looking position. Harry's got his resting elbow on the table right next to where your hand holds your drink, and he's looking down at you with careful eyes, "Where are you?"

"The pool a dozen summers ago," you answer easily, pursing your lips together and running a knuckle along your hairline, "Thinking about your ah, burn incident."

Harry's face explodes in a grin, and his eyes roll up to the ceiling and then capture yours again, "For fuck's sake, you're never going to stop bringing that up, are you?"

"You were a horrible blonde," you remark quickly, "If you ever so much as blink in the direction of a packet of bleach you have to call me, okay? I'll have no issue telling you, categorically, you should never dye your hair."

"Categorically," Harry mimics you childishly, "Alright, I get it, you went to uni. No need to use words with fifty syllables to make me feel stupid."

You bring your glass up to your lips, "Come off it, Harry, you're ten times smarter than me."

His forehead raises, "You're the cleverest person I know. Don't make me call Gem to confirm it."

"Don't bring your sister into this, Harry," you deadpan.

He goes to reply but holds back, something unnamable travelling across his eyes as he watches you lick your lips after taking another sip of your drink. Harry's leaning a little closer than he might usually, and despite the fact he's a few drinks in he still smells only of Tom Ford and clean clothes. He's just about to ask you what you're doing the next day when he gets hit in the side of the head with a coaster.

"Hey," he cries out, pulling back from you and frowning around at the group trying to figure out who the culprit is," 'M the fucking birthday boy, watch it."

Lisa is the girl directly across from Harry and yourself, and she's is the one who threw it. She's giving Harry a coy smile and holds up her empty glass to him, a not so subtle request makes the drink in your hand feel like a concrete brick. Something dirty you don't like having. She's got captivating blue eyes and straight blonde hair—exactly Harry's usual type. Your heart sinks as he slides out of the booth next to you, laughing at her flirtatious request and taking a tally of who else wants a new drink.

"Y/N?" Your name is delicate on his lips, and it makes you want to cry. Why is it so easy for you to make things feel like they mean more with him?

You direct your smile his way, "I'm good, thanks."

His head tilts to one side, "You sure?"

"Positive," you nod, feeling your cheeks burn as everyone watches the exchange.

"Okay," Harry taps the table with the corner of his phone, "I'll be right back."

After a few moments, you sneak off to the bathroom, happy to see Harry's beaten you back from the bar when you return. He's sitting in your spot, deep in conversation with the person beside him who you recognise from the radio. Tentatively, you slip in next to him, careful not to touch him this time. Harry's got his hand casually resting on the table, turning your glass forty-five degrees one way and then back the other way as he speaks. You think about reaching over and pulling it out of his hand gently (you're losing your buzz, and Little Miss Bombshell across the table has made you feel silly and juvenile) but it looks to be an almost serious conversation, so you don't. With a smile plastered on your face, you look around the table, resisting the urge to pull out your phone to check if either of your flatmates has text you to meet up with them somewhere.

It's a delicious whiff of your perfume behind him that turns Harry's head. You're back from the bathroom, although nobody was able to confirm that's where you went when he got back from the bar and asked after you. Harry pushes your drink over and gives you a smile, taking note of the fresh layer of lipstick and messy oomph to your hair that perfectly shows off the new style and bangs.

Golden, he thinks, As always,

"Your new hair really does look beautiful," Harry tells you, the bar stilling around you as his face becomes all the world is for you at that moment, "Next time, don't wait for a dickhead to break your heart before doing something to make yourself feel good."

You swallow down the thickness in your throat, "Thanks, Harry."

Walking to the next bar, Harry can't stop himself from asking.

"What happened?"

You kick your foot out as you wait at a set of traffic lights, half the group ran to cross, but you, Harry and a couple of others were too slow, "What happened with what?"

Harry watches his breath fan out in front of his face, "With your ex, with …"

"Tim."

"Tim, yeah," he turns to look down at you, hands tucked into his coat pockets, "What happened with Tim?"

"Nothing really," you start strong, then shrug one shoulder as you think about it. It's safe to cross so you wait until you're stepping up over the gutter and onto the opposite footpath before you continue, "Probably a lot of little things but … Always felt like he thought I was asking for a bit too much. I guess in the end he just didn't like me all that much."

The way your voice drops kills Harry, he's not detecting self-deprecation but something far worse. He's detecting acceptance or acknowledgement or like you're confessing some truth that should have been obvious.

"Y/N," he stops walking and halts you as well, lets Adrian and Lisa walk around and out in front of you, "If he didn't like you very much then he's got some kind of chemical imbalance. I mean it, this guy's not worth a second of your heartache."

It's not like Harry's a dickhead about it, not like he thinks you should date people with more money or status or who are more impressive. A person isn't their job or what car they drive, he knows that. Harry's not about judging anyone, but you really do seem to date guys not worthy of you. He hasn't met many of them, but Harry knows this to be true because if they were worthy, you simply wouldn't be single right now. If you dated someone half-decent, there wouldn't be a chance in hell they'd let you go. You're beautiful and thoughtful and intelligent and funny—so funny—which means Harry knows without a doubt that this Tim guy was an absolute fuckwit.

"It's not necessarily about the guy," you start and Harry can hear the thick emotion in your voice, "Is it? It's about the idea. The disappointment is more about not getting the fairytale, not finding my person. Not getting the whole package everyone else seems to have found. I know Tim wasn't right—truth be told I didn't end up liking him very much either—doesn't stop me from being sad that I still haven't found it."

"'It'… That's what you're looking for?" Harry asks, eyes out front where the rest of the group are all stopped waiting at another set of traffic lights.

They're laughing and chatting loudly to other people on nights out, and hanging off street poles to get funny pictures. He doesn't want to catch up to them, not when the two of you are in the middle of this conversation that's making his heart race and his hands sweat. He starts taking smaller steps.

"Yeah," you breathe out, almost sounding ashamed of yourself, "Don't seem to be looking in the right places."

Look over here, Harry thinks.

"But I mean, each breakup I end up getting something out of it," you've flicked your positivity switch, "This time I got these boots and bangs," you kick out your foot and watch Harry take note of your footwear, "Last break up I got four houseplants and a new watch … It's not all bad. What about you?" you turn it back on Harry, "Are you seeing anyone at the moment?"

It's hard to tell with Harry. You either find out from his sister or sometimes, social media. Although that's all usually trash. Generally, when Harry's seeing someone, you'll hear it confirmed from Gemma, and the next time you see Harry, it'll be something you're assumed to know. You haven't seen Gemma since Christmas time though, for your annual festive get together, and she didn't mention anything. Tim had ended things with you a few days before, so that was the main topic of conversation.

"No," Harry confirms what you'd already deduced—and hoped—in your head, "Not for a while now."

"Got your eye on anyone?" You quiz faux cheekily, your smile a little too wide.

Yes, you, he says to himself as he looks at the side of your face.

You hope he's not got some girl in LA he's into. Just like you'd hoped his answer to the previous question. But the hope was silly, something that bloomed in your chest each time you saw him and died again before you were home in your bed, alone.

"I'll let you know," he says aloud.

You think you see something else there in his expression, but you know you can't have. Your mind is swirling, and you're feeling a tingling sensation all over that you know you shouldn't. It'll only leave you disappointed when you part ways tonight and don't see him for another few months. The tiny bits of maybe mores and perhaps are dangerous to things to cling on to now, they'll all turn into Nothings very quickly.

Someone steals his attention away from you when you get to the next street corner. Most of the group are gathered there, and you're not sure whether to believe it when Lisa says they missed the green man to cross the road because they were talking. She sides up to Harry and starts waving her hands around in an animated story about something or other. Harry crosses the street with her, and you give him up for the night.

But he's acutely aware of what's happened. Harry's not stupid—he's emotionally intelligent, and spent enough time with Lisa on nights out before—and he can see that she's deliberately pulled him aside. He likes her, quite a bit, but she doesn't make his insides flip, or his toes curl. She's firmly Just A Friend. Harry hasn't spent countless hours over the years thinking about her, lying to himself about how he's completely fine when she starts dating someone new. He's never thought about an alternative life, one where he stayed at school and went to uni and got a regular job and maybe (definitely) ended up with her.

He's imagined that life with you—more than once. More than a dozen times, if he's honest. For years now, Harry's bitten his tongue and smiled through the pain of not being able to have you. And sure, most of the time it's a dull ache, deep in the recess of his mind, that needs to be called on or conjured to really be felt, but it's always been there. He's always had an (Astronomical) Soft Spot For You. Ever since that summer you broke your arm falling off the back of the ramp at the skate park, and he first saw you cry. At fifteen he didn't know what the hollow but sharp pain through his heart was as he rushed to your side, but now he knows that was the first sign he didn't see you as just a mate. Would never again see you as just a mate.

And now, hearing you use the word 'it'. You say you're out there dating idiots trying to find it and Harry's just unwaveringly sure he that could be him. He wants to be it for you.

You've pulled out your phone and fallen behind, face pulled down as you type away furiously. Harry watches you out of the corner of his eye, half just to watch you and half to make sure you don't get separated entirely from the safety of the group.

"Y/N," he calls out, unable to keep up with Lisa's story and unwilling to try to tune back into it. She stops short, and annoyance flits across her face, but Harry still turns to you, still crosses his arms over his chest and gives you his best scolding look, "It's the oldest trick in the book," he goads you. Lisa sighs behind him, and he ignores it.

Your head slowly comes up and takes in Harry (and Lisa sulking behind him), "What is?"

"Fallin' behind so you can peek at my bum."

You point at the long coat Harry's wearing that goes to his knees, "Can't see half of you under that thing."

"Ah, ha!" He calls out, his pointer finger floating in the air right in front of your face, "So you've tried."

You shove his shoulder and step around him, trying like anything to act neutrally. You're aware Lisa is still watching on, and you're not used to your friendship with Harry being quite so carefully observed. You know your face has gone red and you're really not going to involve yourself in a pissing contest with her. It's not classy and certainly not your vibe.

As you walk away, boots clip up behind you, and Harry heavily drapes his arm right across your shoulders, pulls you into his side, "Was just teasin', love."

"I know," you respond quietly, not upset, not really.

"Though I might've made you sad," Harry continues solemnly, "Know you get embarrassed in front of people."

Your face cracks into a smile, "Opposite of you, hey, you're practically an exhibitionist."

He should flirt because you've led him to a pretty easy window into a dirty joke, but something has Harry hanging onto his regret, "I mean it, shouldn't tease you …Should be old enough to use my words, tell you what I think."

You've got no idea what he's on about, "Harry, the teasing was fine. Where's this bloody bar though?"

Up ahead, everyone's standing on the footpath in a clump. Harry can feel the next words on his lips but has to hold them in when his mates turn and see he's finally caught up. They're waiting a few minutes for a table, someone explains, then they'll be able to go in. Harry thinks how little he feels like another drink at another bar. A few people walk away from the group to share cigarettes. You're standing a little bit away, under the sign for the butcher next-door and kick your foot back against the wall like the slight movement might warm you up.

As he steps up to you, Harry watches you get distracted by the group of people spilling out of the bar you're all about to go into. He doesn't want to take advantage of knowing you're newly single also doesn't want to let this opportunity pass. You're always dating someone, or he is, or there's some other reason not to. There's always a reason to hold back from you and Harry refuses to believe it's the drinks he's had nudging him into this. Neither of you is drunk, he wouldn't even say he's tipsy anymore. Just warm and contemplative and less inhibited than usual.

"C' mere," he calls softly, the tips of his boots landing right in front of yours, your bodies a hands' width apart. He wants you closer.

"Harry—

He opens up his coat to you and when you don't move—your brain is busy short-circuiting—he acts for you and winds his arm around your shoulder to encase you in the warmth, "Get in," Harry says, "You're shivering."

You're shocked by the contact, at him being so close and inviting you in and then just taking you in his jacket. He's wrapped the lapels around both your bodies and forced you against his chest. He hums against you, but you're feeling incredibly awkward with your arms hitched up against your chest and pressed rigidly into his shoulders. You've not been in a hold like this before and certainly not with Harry.

He pulls back and digs around for your wrists, "You've gotta put them around me," he stretches his arms behind his back, taking yours with them and instructing you to really settle against him. "There, that's better," he wraps the jacket back around you, and the two of you stand like that—hearts pressed together, scents converging and your whole frame shaking against his—for what seems like far too long for it mean nothing. Right? Your thoughts ricocheted around inside his jacket and go nowhere, solve nothing in your mind.

Over your shoulder, he sees the rest of the group have gone into the bar. He's not surprised none of them called out, Harry's angled you both away from the door and with his head ducked down against yours they probably (hopefully) missed you both there.

It's Harry's twenty-seventh birthday, and maybe that's made him sullen or introspective. Made him think about the passage of time and how another year has passed him by, yet here he stands in the same place as ever—wanting you. Wishing for more, or waiting for a moment that feels right, or hoping something will happen. With growing older comes a sense of regret and an acceptance that twenty-six has happened and anything he wanted to achieve by that age but didn't he never will. There's only the future. Only the things he can do. And the mix of all that with the cocktails has Harry feeling as though he has to act on this. Every birthday he thinks maybe by the next one the Somethings or the Maybes might have happened, and you won't be standing in front of him as just his friend.

"Always had a thing for you," Harry says, his chin resting against the crown of your head while his arms link around low on your back, holding you against him, "I've always liked you more than I should."

Oh god, you think, your chest freezing in place, I'm hallucinating.

"What?" Now your heart is really racing. Or maybe it's completely stopped, seized up and fallen out of your chest onto the salt-covered footpath.

His voice comes out evenly as he repeats himself, "Feels bigger than a crush, but I guess that's what it is … Since we were kids."

(Oh, how those words have been his best-kept secret for all these years but now, in less than two seconds, he's let go of them more easily than almost anything else he's ever done)

"Y/N?"

Harry thought he'd be scared. Thought this would be a moment of panic. Every time he's imagined this he's thought 'and I'd be absolutely shitting myself because what if she doesn't feel the same way?' but now that he's said it he's almost completely calm. The only reason he's worried is that he can feel how hard your heart is beating—even through the layers of clothing—and surely that quickly can't be good for your health.

You're speechless, and he leans back so he can see your face and, oh your eyes. Why on earth didn't he say it to your face, so he could be looking in your eyes? Watch his words project across your expression and settle into your mind.

You look worried, and Harry's transported back to that time he had you on FaceTime when he was somewhere on tour with One Direction. He was telling you about how management was going to let them fly friends out on tour, bring a little bit of home along and give the boys some needed space from each other. You were nodding along and so excited for him but sure Harry was talking about someone else, that this was just news and he'd called up to tell you how he was inviting the boys he went to school with in Cheshire or people he met through X-Factor. Of course I'm bringing out you and Gem, you idiot, he'd told you when you were surprised to get an invite, Who else did you think I was talking about?

He kind of loves watching the look on your face right now, the cogs turning in your head and wheels spinning, furiously trying to figure out what Harry means.

Why isn't he terrified of what you're about to say?

"Why … but you've… and I've…"

Your hands have moved to his hips so you can see him properly, and Harry's encouraged by the fact you haven't pulled away or pushed him off you. You're watching him with a puzzled look on your face and a burning heat across your cheeks.

He brings his forearms up to rest on your shoulders and smiles at you, "I wasn't brave enough to act on it … Guess I didn't want to fuck it up. Didn't want it to not work out. Couldn't stand you becoming an ex."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Right." You don't seem capable of more than one word at a time.

"You feel bad for yelling at me about the chocolate bar now, don't you?" Harry's narrowed his eyes playfully.

That does it.

Your eyes snap back up to his face from being fixated on staring at his neck, "Chocolate bar … No, what the fuck, Harry."

He laughs. A real laugh that comes from the base of his tummy and squeezes his eyes shut and crinkles his nose. His head falls back, and it's a deep, uninhibited laugh, "Don't stomp your new boots at me," he eventually says, crooking his head down to be almost pressing his forehead against yours. "You've been my favourite girl for years, I've always been a pansy idiot who didn't want to wreck the friendship."

"Oh, and now you don't mind wrecking it?" You bark back sarcastically, unsure why you're angry at him but you are.

"No," Harry says softly, moving through your emotional responses seamlessly, "I don't think it's going to wreck it, do you? Think twenty-seven has finally given me the balls to pursue it. To tell you how I feel. How I've always felt."

Your eyes instantly ball with hot tears you weren't prepared for, "You're an idiot."

"I am," he agrees readily, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

"Why have you told me this now," your voice is small, unsure.

Harry frowns, now he's starting to panic, "Do you … Do you not feel the same? Or do you not think maybe you could?"

Oh, if only he could have been in your head every time you saw him these last few years. Heard you talk yourself down and away from anything more than platonic, from any thoughts that might elevate you in his eyes. You've spent all this time trying to convince yourself to believe you were nothing more than a friend to him, and now this.

"Harry, are you sure you—

—I'm sure," he insists quickly.

"I just—

—I'm sure."

You're suddenly very embarrassed by the conversation the two of you had earlier about your ex. The conversation where you basically told Harry you're incredibly desperate to settle down and find The One. He's so achingly cool, and you feel like a little tinned tomato, thin-skinned and persistently flustered.

Tinned tomato? Really? You berate yourself, Case in bloody point.

"Y/N"

You scratch roughly at your forehead and grimace at whatever thoughts are going through your mind, "I'm just …"

Harry brings one hand up to fix your bangs, carefully sweeping the hair back across your forehead evenly, letting the pads of his fingers dust over your skin, "I think if you didn't feel the same you'd have said No by now."

His words steal the air from your lungs, "Harry, you've just always …"

"I've always?"

"I never thought …"

The smile comes up over his face gently, "It's me, Y/N, please finish a sentence. I'd really like to kiss you, but you haven't yet said anything to imply you'd be open to that …"

You pull your lips together like a reflex you can't help, you've rarely let yourself fall that deep into imaging things with Harry, but your body reacts to his words in an instant, "Promise you're not kidding …"

"I promise I'm not kidding," Harry said sincerely. "I'd never kid around about this, Y/N."

You believe him, and ten seconds of bravery comes over you, "I was thirteen."

His eyes narrow slightly, trying to figure out what you mean, "Thirteen?"

"My thing for you," you continue quietly, heart racing as adrenaline swamps your legs, "Started the summer I turned thirteen."

Harry hears the slight shaking to your voice and almost misses what you've said. Then it hits him.

"Oh yeah?" He squints at you and pulls up his nose with a smile, a secret little smile that will never belong to anyone but the two of you. The Smile that happened just before Harry leant down and kissed you for the first time, pressed his warm lips against your cold ones and really breathed you in.

He holds it like that for a moment, your lips touching but not moving. Then his hands come up to cup your face, and Harry moves his mouth to one side, just a touch. You open up to him, and he has the brief thought that this is probably the Most Important Kiss Of His Life. His insides curl in on themselves as he gets completely lost in you. Completely lost in how perfect this moment feels and how much finally kissing you feels like a relief.

You can't believe this is happening. You're still tucked into Harry's coat—warm and safe—but now you're joined at the mouth, and Harry's a really really good kisser. He's got his thumbs pressed into your cheeks and his fingers laced through the hair around your ears. When his tongue first licks your bottom lip and then goes searching for yours, you don't think you've felt yourself flicker On so quickly. A soft moan escapes your lips, and Harry's kiss somehow becomes harder, his nose bumping yours where he'd been good at keeping things smooth until then. As quickly as it intensifies, Harry takes a slight step back and drags his mouth away from yours.

"Y/N," he breaths out your name, sealing your lips with one of his thumbs as he pulls back. Harry's taking stock of your face (hopefully) getting used to being this close to you. Noting the way your eyelashes kink out at an odd angle right at the corner of your eye, and the freckle that's so close to the edge of your mouth he's never noticed it before. Harry's can feel your heart has slowed down, and the expression on your face right now is content, but curious. He's also sure he can see fear under it all.

"Well," your voice shakes, because Harry's looking at you like you've only dreamed and now that you're here you're not really sure what happens next. You kissed Harry.

He clears his throat lightly and his hands both fall to hold either side of your neck, "There's no way I'm going back to not being able to do that whenever I want."

Then, he kisses you again. You feel yourself melt against him as Harry's chest presses back against yours. You link your arms around his waist, clutching the back of his shirt between your fingers as Harry leads the kiss with a hand on your neck and the other holding your chin carefully. You've picked up right where the last one let off, hungry and exploring and a little bit desperate (perhaps a lot desperate) to have more of each other.

But then his phone rings in his trousers pocket, right against your hip, and you jump away in surprise.

"Shit," Harry mutters, pulling the stupid machine out, cursing the universe, "Sorry … It's Aiden," he tells you with an eye-roll.

And then you're back to reality. Your drinks have all worn off, your feet ache, your ears are freezing, and you've just made out with one of your oldest, best friends. Shit.

"Oh," you take a hearty step back, hands slipping out from Harry's coat and your body bracing the full brunt of the cold night, "Yeah … That's—

—Aiden," Harry barks the name of his mate down the phone while at the same time hooking his free arm around the back of your neck and pulling you close again. He's not giving up touching you that easily, and he doesn't care, quite frankly, about giving you any room to start internalising or retreating from him, "No, we've gone to get some food … I'll see you during the week sometime. Tell everyone thanks for—Yes, I'm serious … I don't care, saw all you lot last week … I'm hanging up now. Bye."

You listened in on the conversation because it was really all you could do. Aiden was obviously inside the bar, and they were all wondering where Harry got to. We've gone to get some food, Harry told him, so they'd know he was with you. (You supposed he was hardly going to say, 'oh yeah we've been out the front making out') Bits and pieces of the other end of the conversation, you were able to pick up on, but not enough to truly know what was said. By the end of the call, Harry was smiling though, you could hear it in his voice.

His nose found the shell of your ear and Harry leant into you, "Come back to mine, or we can go to yours … Watch a movie, play Scrabble, anything … Just wanna be with you."

"It's two o'clock in the morning, Harry," you murmur, your mind struggling to make sense of what's just happened. You're outside a club in Soho held against Harry's chest with lips that know what he tastes like and a body that's on fire.

"I'm not tired," he shoots back, "Are you?"

"Well, no but—

—Great," Harry turns towards the road, takes a few steps to the curb (you trot along with him under his arm), as he flags down a black cab. "Mine or yours?"

His question is simple, he prompts you to answer by calling your name as he opens the door for you and gestures for you to hurry up and get in.

"Yours," you say.

Harry doesn't speak much in the cab, you figure it's about privacy. You hope it's about privacy. The thirty-minute drive out of the city and to his place feels much longer. Halfway through he reaches over for your hand and gives you a reassuring smile across the back seat. You thought the journey might make you sleepy, the sitting down in a warm car would bring the haze over your eyes and bring the long day to a close in your mind. But you could never feel sleepy with Harry's fingers playing with yours, or when he leans over and kisses your cheek for no reason at all.

At his house, Harry tells you to make yourself at home while he turns on the kettle for a cuppa. You kick your boots off in the hallway, and your feet start throbbing in relief as you follow his retreating form. It's certainly not the lusty, hurried entry you imagined you might have. Which only plants doubts in your mind about what's actually going on between the two of you.

"I'm just going to use the bathroom," you call out ahead of you, turning back to the stairs and taking yourself up to Harry's second storey.

Upstairs you don't take long. You're looking a little worse for wear—who wouldn't at 3am—but you're not really in the mood to try to fix yourself. Even if you did Harry would notice, and that felt like something you wanted to avoid. As you walk back to the landing, you wriggle your toes in your socks and happen to look back down the upstairs hallway. You've been in this house dozens of times before but this time feels different. It feels quiet and intimate somehow. Just as you're about to go down the first step, you see Harry's bedroom door is open on the opposite side of the stairs to the bathroom, and you notice something that makes you stop.

The book you got him for Christmas is sitting on his bedside table.

You're standing over it before you realise that your legs have started moving, looking at a picture of Anne, Gemma and Harry, a bottle of water and the book. You pick it up, the cover a little bent and the spine cracked to where he's read. Harry's using the birthday card you send along with the gift as a bookmark. The top of the familiar design sticking out the top of the pages, you can't even really remember what you wrote inside. Something generic probably. Platonic.

Happy birthday, old man! Have a wonderful day, sorry I can't be there in person. Love, Y/N.

The floorboard at the top of the stairs creaks and you turn around to Harry looking surprised to see you standing over his bed. He's got two cups of tea and a family-sized Dairy Milk bar under his arm. Something churns inside you, this was Harry as you'd always known him. Except now you looked at his lips and wondered why the hell you weren't kissing him.

"Oh, yeah, I've been reading that," Harry sees the book in your hands and walks towards you, "It's excellent, unsurprisingly."

A smile starts on your face, "You doubted my selection ability?"

"Never," he returns quickly and then raises his eyebrows at you, "Looking for anything else?"

You feel your cheeks heat and you drop the book back into its place, "No, sorry, I was coming down the stairs and saw … I'm sorry."

Harry passes you a tea, "It was really kind of you to send something over. Was fun having something to unwrap on the day."

"I'm glad," you smile and take a sip of the tea. It's sweet, and you screw up your face, "This is yours."

Harry watches you with a strange expression on his face as the two of you swap mugs. He's worrying his bottom lip, obviously weighing something up in his mind. You see it when he decides what he' going to do about it.

"I've got something I want to show you," he tells you finally, tilting his head back to the door. "Wanna come see?"

"What is it?" You ask automatically, but Harry's already walking out the door, and you have to hurry to catch up.

He leads you into his study, and you hover in the doorway as Harry sets his tea and the chocolate down on the desk. He pulls Bananagrams out of the draw and places it next to the mug.

"We're actually going to play Bananagrams?" You ask.

He looks back at you, "You'd prefer actual Scrabble?"

"I didn't know what you meant by—I guess I …"

Realisation dawns on his face, and he widens his eyes, "Oh, you thought it was a euphemism."

"No!" You snap back quickly, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks (for the record, yes, you thought 'a movie or Scrabble' was a thinly veiled way of Harry suggesting … something else), "No, I just … I just don't think I'll be able to spell words right now."

"I didn't think you were still tipsy" Harry states, shit-stirring.

"I'm not!" You squawk at him. "I'm… I' m—You kissed me!"

He grins, loving the fact he's driven you a little crazy, "Yeah. Want me to do it again?"

Harry's playing with you. He's teasing. And you know it but what you don't know is how he's so confidently jumped to it. Not when you feel like you've been left on the street outside the bar trying to figure out what the hell this means, and what's going to happen tomorrow when he stops looking at you like that. You don't like to think this whole night could've been him playing with you, you don't know Harry to be that cruel. But there's a tripwire in your mind you keep getting snared on.

It's Harry.

"C' mere," he reaches his hand down across the room between you both, "C' mere and kiss me again. You don't seem to be getting it."

"Getting it?" You're cut off by Harry taking two big steps toward you and then planting his lips on yours again.

His palms find your hips, and you hold him in the same spot. It takes a moment for the two of you to find a rhythm, and even then, you're too in your head. You're struggling to remember what little Harry's said about this whole thing. You know he said he had a crush on you and you've gotten the distinct impression he wasn't too fond of your ex. But for all you know Harry's been kissing his mates like this for years but just never gotten around to kissing you. You might've been next on the list. He's a friendly guy. Maybe a crush isn't what it used to be. Or maybe—

He pulls back from your lips with a huffy expression on his face, "Y/N," he says quietly, "I'm a man with an incredibly fragile ego, whatever you're worrying about is really getting in the way of kissing you."

"I'm just—

—Let me show you what I brought you in here for," he interrupts you, takes your hand and tugs you towards the window. Then, he puts a hand on each of your shoulders and directs your attention to the wall.

It's lined with record sale plaques for singles and albums over the years—double Platinums and Gold-Somethings. Harry watches you eyes run over them all, a proud but unsure look in your eye. You're not sure why he's showing them to you, he knows that. He hopes you're not intimidated by them, he's certainly not showing you to try to score any points. There's a sweeter gesture behind it. He points to one leaning against the wall, not hanging. He's got it resting on the bubble wrap it was sent over in.

Stepping up closer behind you, Harry rests his chin on your shoulder, "That one's for you."

"What?"

"I want you to have it, been saving it for you … If I ever got brave enough."

The question falls from your lips before you really think about it, "Why would you want me to have it …"

Harry waits to see if you'll let on you've figured it out, he thought it was pretty obvious really, but you've never been one to elevate yourself or assume, and Harry knows that about you. So, when you don't keep talking, he confirms it for you, "That song is about you."

You just blink, eyes on the framed plaque taking in the name of the song and hearing it in your head.

It's about me? You think you want to hear it, you need to Google the lyrics and make sure you have them right in your head. Harry wrote a song about you. Harry wrote that song about you.

"When … When did you write it?"

"You mean why?" Harry raises his head and steps to stand next to you, he observes your face carefully.

"No, I mean when." You're starring at it like the plaque might answer the question, "When did you write it?"

Harry runs a hand over his head as he thinks, "A few years back, after that time you came out to LA … Didn't record it until this year though …"

Harry watches your face expand in surprise and then crumple back down to confusion. You really don't get it. He's not sure how to make you in one night. He supposes he can't. So he trails his hand up the back of your arm and then around your back, tilting his head down and waiting to see if you'll pull away. When you don't, he kisses the corner of your mouth and then opens his wider to take you lips in his properly.

It's different to the kisses outside the bar, now that you're both out of your outer layers Harry can feel your body against his in ways he's only dreamed, and it's sending everything straight between his legs. Harry's hands explore your back and the curve of your hips, thumbs almost reaching the underside of your breasts but not quite. It's a little awkward when he senses you've felt him hardening between you. Usually, lust clouds that moment, and Harry doesn't mind intimate partners being acutely aware of how they're affecting him. But with you he's a little hesitant, he senses the awkwardness on your side. Friends don't feel those body parts on each other, friends don't… He almost groans when your mouth leaves his without warning.

You think he'll probably change his mind about all this.

"Have you changed your mind?" You ask, not able to stop it.

Confusion colours his features, and his lips smack together, like he's savouring tasting you, "Wha—

"About wanting to be kissing me," you clarify.

"What? No." Harry's eyebrows have shot up, and he's shaking his head, "I barely even started! Didn't I just say I wrote that song about you—why the hell would I—want to do more than just kiss you—You think I'm gonna change my mind?"

You shrug, "Maybe. I don't know."

"Well," he stands up straighter and pins you with his stare, "I'm not. I promise I'm not going to change my mind. And I promise I'll never make you feel like you're asking for too much. Ever."

"Now you're trying to make me cry," you say, hearing him repeat back to you the insecurity leftover from your conversation about your ex. You're half kidding with your words but also not. You believe him. You trust him.

Harry grimaces, sways your bodies together gently, "I really hate seeing you cry, could you not? I had other plans."

You sniff through a laugh as Harry wraps his arms around your middle tighter," What plans are those?"

"Well, I literally thought Scrabble," he tells you through a smile, trying his best to make you laugh, "But I'm open to whatever dirty things you were thinking as well."

"You'll win Scrabble."

So, Harry instructs you to bring your tea and your sore feet back into his bedroom. He gets you a fluffy pair of hiking socks and tells you to take yours off, and your tights, and get comfortable on the bed with him and the block of chocolate. You've polished off a family size together before, the sugar going straight to your heads and always leading to a giggly night of reminiscing and Almosts.

This time though, you only get halfway through the tea and Harry pushes the chocolate off the bed onto the floor in favour of you straddling his hips. It started with a stolen kiss against your temple, and then another on your cheek, and one close to your lips, and then you captured his face in your hands and really kissed him. Within a few moments, Harry was dragging you over to him. His hands settle on the swell of your backside as it sits against his thighs and your lips trace the line of his jaw. This was really happening. You'd really let him peel off your dress and flick off your bra. His shirt was somewhere with the forgotten snacks, and you seemed extremely eager to keep feeling his hardness pressed between your legs.

"I swear to god, I never dreamed this would happen," he murmurs, hissing when your hips pressed into his at a different angle, "Was sure I'd be going to your wedding one day, completely miserable and probably end up drunk and causing a scene. Embarrass you so badly you'd never want to see me again, and you'd just run away with your stupid husband."

You pull back and watch Harry ramble, your bare chest rising and falling against his, "You're a real glass half full kinda guy, aren't you?" you smile at him.

"I just," his eyes drop to your chest, nipples puckered for him, and he scrunches them shut then drops his forehead onto your sternum with a big sigh, "This is fucking unreal, and my brain is just struggling to comprehend—you're breathtaking, and I feel like my chest is gonna explode."

"It's also 4am, so there's always the potential your brain is just plain tired," your index finger is drawing circles on the back of his shoulder as Harry leans against you, you pause and run your hand over the back of his head, "Maybe we should sleep for a little … I'll be here when you wake up," you say in response to Harry squeezing his arms around your waist tightly as if you were going to disappear. Or worse, leave.

His indescribable green eyes find yours in the light from the bedroom lamps, "Will you let me hold you while you sleep?"

"Yeah," you nod, although somehow that question seems more intimate than the lack of clothes between you at the moment. You're distinctly less dressed than Harry, who's still got his trousers on, you're only covered by your underwear.

"We don't have to rush this, right? Got all the time in the world now," still, as he speaks his palms trail up your back and then down again, skimming the sides of your breasts, "Just don't wanna miss anything is all."

"I promise I'm incredibly boring in my sleep, won't miss anything," you tease, "Might be the only time you get any peace."

Harry tightens his forearms around your back and finds the soft skin below your ear with his lips—once, twice, three little kisses—"I feel pretty at peace right now, just having you here. Feels like I'm living a dream."

You don't reply for a moment, but you let your body rest against Harry's in a comfortable hug, your voice is quiet, "You really wrote me a song?"

"I did."

"I've always loved that song."

“Well, it's been yours all along."

"Nobody's ever written a song about me."

"I should hope not."

"Are you going to write another one?"

"Without a doubt."

Chat to me here

#OOOO SHIT what have i done #well #1dff #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles X reader #harry styles stories #harry styles imagines #harry fic

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absoloutenonsense · 4 years ago

Photo

“Sorry,” Harry’s voice comes through, sounding a little further away this time. His voice gets clearer the longer he talks. “I’m sorry, I dropped the phone.”

“Oh, that’s okay.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Louis listens to Harry’s breathing and tries not to panic that he’s already done something wrong. Other than, you know, pretending to be an operator when he’s actually just the guy who connects the call. He has absolutely no training and no idea what to do. Sure, he’s done a bit of dirty talk with some past partners, but nothing so official. He’s not prepared on how to handle the silence.

“Sorry,” Harry says again. “I’m sorry, I really wanted to jump right in, but I think I’m too nervous.” He sighs. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Hey,” Louis says, a little softer now from the distress in his voice. “It really is okay. I’m… I’m actually nervous too,” Louis says truthfully, looking at his computer screen and sighing.

Harry snorts. “Yeah sure.”

“What?”

“You do what, dozens of these calls a day? What’ve you got to be nervous about?”

“Truth be told,” Louis says, “I’m pretty new at this.” Started about two minutes ago, actually, he adds in his own head.

“Oh,” Harry says.

Ah, fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Maybe Mr. Sexy Voice wanted someone worldly and experienced to walk him through this. Louis rolls his eyes at his own stupidity.

“That makes me feel better, actually,” Harry says then.

Oh. Okay. Okay, Louis can work with this. He loves comforting people. He can muscle his way through this.

“Good,” Louis says. “So… what did you do today?”

Harry giggles, and it makes Louis smile.

“We can start as slow as you want,” Louis says. “We can just talk, if you want. It doesn’t have to be, you know, that.”

Harry sighs. “But I do want that.”

“Okay,” Louis says, drawing out the ‘o’ a little in what he hopes comes across as understanding-but-curious.

“It’s just… so like…” He huffs. “I suppose… I don’t know you so I can just, like, say it right? Because I don’t know you and you can’t hold this against me and it doesn’t really matter.”

“Of course.”

“Right so, I’m just sort of starting the process of kind of… coming out. Maybe.”

Louis blinks at his monitor and feels his heart go a bit soft at that. “Congratulations,” he says.

“Thanks,” he says in an unsure voice.

“No really,” Louis reassures. “Even if you had the easiest time in the history of the world, there’s always that bit of stress, isn’t there? The build up, the fear… probably judgement from at least a couple of your dad’s friends who no longer know how to talk to you if it’s not about girls.”

That gets a big laugh from Harry. “Sounds like you know from personal experience.”

Louis raises his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side, shrugging even though no one’s there to see him. “Had a barbecue after finishing secondary school, just about a month after I’d told everyone, and three of my stepdad’s friends tried to ask me if I was going to uni for fashion. Not slagging off fashion or anything, but it was like they completely forgot I’d gotten a football scholarship. Would’ve rather them try to pretend to know anything about that instead.”

Harry giggles and the sound is tinny, like he’s pulled the phone away from his mouth.

“My nana asked me if it meant I didn’t believe in God anymore and my grandad bought me lipstick for my birthday last month.”

Louis laughs. “Did you wear it to mess with them?”

“Nah,” Harry says. “Gave it to my sister. It was a coral… so not my shade.”

“Love a man who knows his color wheel.”

Harry lets out a hiccup-y laugh. “Of course. I got it in my gay lifestyle welcome kit.”

“Oh, are they still giving those out? How many different flavoured condoms did you get?”

“None, unfortunately, for those of us who are too scared to even think of approaching a man they fancy.”

Louis smiles down at his keyboard. “There’s no need to rush, you know,” he says. “You don’t have to dive straight into chatting up blokes.”

“I know, I’m diving gay in.”

Louis pauses as the pun hits him, and then he groans. Harry’s giggling as he says, “That was awful.”

“Puns aren’t supposed to be good.”

“Yeah, but there’s not good and then there’s I-may-never-laugh-again terrible.”

“Oh no!” Harry says. “You’ve got such a lovely laugh. I’d be torn to bits if I was the reason you never laughed again.”

Louis feels himself blush a little. Which is just absolutely ridiculous. This isn’t flirting, Louis reminds himself. Harry is paying to talk to you, you’re providing a service. Man up for fuck’s sake.

“You sound angelic,” Louis says, wincing as he tries to gauge whether or not that sounds too cringe or not.

“Hmm,” Harry hums thoughtfully. “Can I be honest? Like maybe too honest?”

Louis pauses and then nods, before realizing again, Harry can’t see him. “Yes.”

“I don’t like your sexy voice.”

A laugh is startled out of Louis. “What?”

“I’m sorry!” Harry says, an edge of laughter to that as well. “I’m sure I’m the nutter here, like the only one who doesn’t, but I can’t help it. All I can picture is someone holding a rose in between their teeth and wiggling their eyebrows and it’s just not working for me.”

Louis is in absolute bits at that image, doubled over in his chair.

“Honest! It’s like you’re wearing a fedora and about to tell me my eyes look like a plush forest.”

Louis’ wheezing.

“That nothing means anything in the world if I’m not the girl by your side!”

“Okay, okay, enough!” he says. “Enough, enough. I get it. Gone, it’s gone. Oh fuck my stomach hurts. Christ, I haven’t laughed that hard in ages.”

Harry lets out a pleased noise on the other end of the line.

“So no voices,” Louis says. “What’re you into then?”

“Dunno,” Harry says, and then he sighs. “I feel like I haven’t had the chance to figure it out yet.”

“Well, here’s the perfect place to start, love. You’ve already shit all over me voice—”

“Just the fake sexy voice!” Harry interrupts.

“—so I think we can be open and honest with each other. What do you think you’d like? What’ve you liked before?”

Louis watches the screen in front of him go black from being idle for so long. His heart picks up as he rushes to keep it on, and panic-checks his logs. Okay, okay, Sam and Patrick are free now, but no one’s waiting in the queue thank god.

“Suppose I like to be taken care of,” Harry says quietly. “And taking care of someone else. The last— like the relationship I was in before… it was all about making her feel good, for me.”

Louis nods and makes a noise to show he’s listening.

“I like being held.”

“Mhm.”

“And I like… ugh, I’m really not sure.”

“That’s okay,” Louis’ quick to say. “It’s all okay, Harry. There’s no wrong answers for what you like.”

“I feel like ‘I don’t know’ isn’t a great one.”

“It’s an honest one,” he says sincerely. “You wanted me to pretend I was your boyfriend at the start, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathes out. “Everything else just feels to much, y’know? Like I just want to be good at things straight away, or at least pretend I’m good at them.” He chuckles a little hollowly. “Suppose I mucked that up quite quickly here.”

“C’mon,” Louis says. “I’m so happy you let me know.” And he is. He feels much more relaxed now, like he’s talking to a friend, or maybe a long-term boyfriend, if he had one of those recently. “We’ve gotten to know each other a bit, which is nice. But we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We have been on for nearly twenty minutes now, and I’m sure your credit card will feel that in the morning. We can call it a night, if you want?”

Oi, Louis, shut the fuck up about ending calls early, he thinks. That’s gotta be like, rule number one of phone-sex-operating.

A pause. In a quiet voice, he hears Harry say, “No.”

Louis can’t help but smile. “Should we try again? From the top?” Harry giggles and immediately, Louis adds, “Don’t you dare make a topping joke.”

Which makes Harry laugh really hard for a full minute before it drifts out into soft, lovely giggles.

#operator au #1000 feelings fic #really trying to crack down and write this one now #life has just been a lot ya know #but excited to get more into this #this is much longer than a proper snippet should be rip #many lovely people have tagged me in a variety of things over the last few weeks!#thank you all! I appreciate the tag! I've just been low motivation recently #so it goes!

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mercurial-madhouse · 4 years ago

Text

Snippet Sunday

@cyantific @hadestyles @outropeace @eeveelou @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed @harryanthus @scrunchyharry and @beelou have all tagged me for a snippet today and the past couple weeks and after a mix of prodding and suggesting from @makethebestofwhatyouget @solvetheminourdreams and @zannithinks, I come bearing seven ‘sentences’ from Prometheus Rising, a Zouis prologue to my BB fic, Love After the End of the World. (Aoife posted a line from it yesterday here.) I went away to do what I do best which is write. This fic is coming out on the 28th separate from my BB fic.

********

Zayn ducks.

Swerves.

The car careens left.

Louis’ screaming his name-

cuts off.

The smack of a skull against glass.

Crunching.

Screeching of metal on metal before it all disintegrates and-

********

Tagging all you lovelies back! As well as:

@soldouthaz and @allwaswell16 because you request the tag :)

@absoloutenonsense when are you going to shaaaaaare.

@adidassquad Have you and Harry figured out the dilemma yet?

@becomeawendybird Anything to share? XD

@cupcakentea have you dusted off that WIP yet?

@disgruntledkittenface Louis in a suiiiiiiiit pleaaaaaaase.

@evilovesyou How have those sprinting sessions been going!? Care to share?!

@fallinglikethis Hopefully when you’re not falling like Harry on stage you’re writing too!

@fournipplesau I know you’ve been writing too! Anything sexy to share with the class? :P

@hadestyles You’ve been writing up a storm! Anything to share with me? Pleaaaaase?

@harryanthus you glorious goober I want Haunted AU on cough syrup!!

@harrystinyshorts I know you’re working on some fun stuff!

@jaerie We want to see some of that o!H you think is terrible! Let us show it some looooove.

@kingsofeverything Have you changed Winnie’s name again? :P

@larryyouknow How is that boyfriend coming along? All sorted yet?

@laynefaire I know you’ve got some gold that you just wrote too!

@lightwoodsmagic magic Hi lovey! Nice to meet you! Heard you’ve been doing some writing too! Care to share?

@lululawrence when can we see some off-sides?

@reminiscingintherain therain (feel better love!) How’s the breakup fic coming?

@runaway-train-works Working on anything, love?!

@rosewithdagger still waiting on something from youuuuu. :)

@sadaveniren (How’d that writing session go?!)

@theisolatedlily edlily Goes without saying. We. Want. More! Is that writing break over yet?

@tomlinvelvetfics You’re always writing so you must have something to share, yea? :)

@uhohmorshedios anything new coming up?

@vellichorthing Anything new in the pipeline for you?!

@vintageumbroshirt shirt I know you’ve got something you’re working on! Give up the goods, love!

@zriller whenever you feel comfy we’d love to hear what amazing tales are cooking in that brain of yours! But no pressure, love.

And anyone else who sees this, please use this as my request that you tag me! I’m a bit rusty in my tags as you can tell. :)

#snippet sunday #prometheus rising #zouis #love after the end of the world

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twopoppies · 5 years ago

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Hi! I was wondering if you could rec some office romances? Thank you so much. :)

I think I’m lacking in office romances, but I definitely have a bunch of good ones where they work together (just not necessarily in an office). I hope that works for you!

Danger I Can’t Hide by CelticSky (E, 227K) This one’s got all the tension and drama you’d expect of a World War II story—life and death high stakes, friends and lovers unexpectedly torn apart, battles and heroism, plus the added stakes of classism and homophobia—then add a slow burn, high risk, scorching love affair spanning years. If you want a story that’s complex and fantastically researched, plus lovers to root for, read it. It’s long. But I couldn’t put it down.

Secrets, Santa? By @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 19K) disaster gay Harry in all his bumbling, endearing glory still manages to make his incredibly hot boss (Louis) fall for him. This one has snappy dialogue, great internal monologue, and scorching smut. I’d expect nothing less from this author.

Hike Up Your Skirt (And Show Your World To Me) by Brooklyn_Babylon / @twopoppies (E, 18K) this one is mine and I suggest you read the tags on this one because Louis is definitely super manipulative and there’s some morally gray behavior. But if you like the idea of secretary Harry in lingerie, CEO Louis, copious amounts of dirty talk, some power imbalance, and exhibitionism… this could be for you.

I’ve Been Hoping You’d Be Somewhere Better Than This by runaway_train / @runaway-train-works (E, 40K) I love a fic where they’re thrown together for work and both cannot get along and cannot resist each other. This one is really fun and really hot and definitely worth a read. Plus, it’s part one of a 4-part series (which I haven’t yet read, but I’m looking forward to doing it soon)!

no pressure, no diamonds by karamelised (E, 43K) A thief and a grifter have a past, but also have to work together. This fic is SO good – really fun, original story, great characterizations, crazy hot smut…plus, there’s a prequel and a sequel so….what are you waiting for?

Barefoot in Blue Jeans by @indiaalphawhiskey (E, 24K) Pro football player Louis, au pair Harry. I love the single parent/nanny trope and it works so well here, plus….football player!louis. Can’t go wrong with that! And this writer is always a favorite. I’ve actually read this one twice and loved it both times.

Take My Breath Away by @realitybetterthanfiction (E, 154K) This is such a wonderful, intimate characterization of Harry – you really get to see so many sides of him and this author writes them all so well. It’s action packed, funny, deeply moving, and has such a satisfying ending. You will be so wrung out after reading this fic – this author puts you through it, but it’s SO worth it. Great banter, great side characters, action, smut…it has it all.

Close to Nowhere by @angelichl (E, 35K) I really enjoyed the unique story and the way Harry and Louis relate to each other in this one. It’s fun and quirky and sexy and keeps you on the edge until the end. Definitely worth checking out. Both Harry and Louis are psychics stuck working together on a case.

Love Is A Rebellious Bird by 100percentsassy, gloria_andrews / @gloriaandrews (E, 135K) Everything about this fic is glorious. I’m always struck by how well the characters are fleshed out, how their behavior lines up with their backstory, how ridiculously hot the chemistry is, and how agonizing the angst is. So yes, no shocker, I cried buckets. Thank god for a happy ending. Conductor Harry. Concertmaster Louis.

You Always Make Me Smile by champagneboyband (E, 60K, WIP) Yes, it’s a WIP. I’m listing it because the hope that someday it will be updated gives me the will to live. But also because even as a WIP this fic has everything I love. The characters are multi-faceted, the sexual chemistry is off the charts, the background story is complex enough to give the story numerous possibilities for angst and everything else. WHY MUST IT REMAIN A WIP??? Chef Harry and TV producer Louis meet as they work on a reality show together. Link is to a download

our little corner of the world by brownheadedstranger (E, 30K) This fic reads like original fiction in the best sort of way. Come to think of it, I should have added it to my Locations rec because the whole fic makes you feel like you’re stuck in the hot, dusty little town along with the boys. It’s beautifully written – slow and wistful – and I really need to re-read it now that I think of it! Line cook Harry / diner worker Louis.

Etched in Salt (is a cathedral of the world) by @helloamhere (E, 24K - FBI) I’ve recc’d this fic a few times, but here I go again. It’s that good. You all know I love this author’s writing –– this time she gives us a dark, American, thriller with a bit of psychic goodness. Psychic / telempath Louis and FBI agent Harry work on a case together.

everything that shine ain’t always gonna be gold by sarcasticfluentry (E, 49K) You don’t need to know anything about the movie that inspired this fic (it’s an Inception AU). What you do need to know is that it’s got great OT5, it’s super sexy, it’s got a terrific story line, and the pacing is just right for a nail biter. Extractor Harry and Louis hate each other, but have to work together to solve a case.

So Darling, Just Say You’ll Stay Right By My Side by supernope (E, 28K) Another fic I read too long ago to recall details of, and my rather unhelpful notes read, “LOVE! Slow build up, but so sexy!” So…here’s to trusting old me. I’m not too worried, this author is pretty sure bet. Chief of police Louis. Deputy Harry.

Sometimes Fires Don‘t Go Out by abrighteryellow / @a-brighter-yellow (E, 17K) I love this fic. The quirky friendships, the banter, the secret crush, the banter…it’s such a fun read with a really satisfying conclusion. The boys work together in a record store.

Don’t Want Shelter by kingsofeverything (FullOnLarrie) / @kingsofeverything (E, 77K) This isn’t exactly an office romance, but I love this fic and I’m stretching the category because it’s worth it. This author does such a good job of creating these characters and their years-long dislike for each other that when they’re forced to work and live together and confront their behavior, the emotions feel so realistic and you’re just rooting for them to figure it all out. Such a great read (plus, “older” Larry, which is such a rare treat in this fandom).

Like An Endless Summer by objectlesson (E, 87K) If you’re a camp counselor, then summer camp is your office, therefore this one works here. And there are so many thing I loved – from the camp setting, to the trope of Harry returning to camp older and hotter, to the way the other boys filter in and out of the story, to the way the author writes the emotions and overwhelm, to the hot af smut. It’s just a great read (this fic has been deleted, so the link is to a download).

As Golden As The Coast by darkerwings (M, 13K) I read this one ages ago and don’t recall a lot of detail except I thought it was sweet and sexy and all the boys are elementary school teachers. Good times!

These Inconvenient Fireworks by mdasch & everydayslike (NC17, 190K) somehow this fic feels like it birthed the fandom’s love of fic. Did anything exist before TIF? I’m joking. I‘m sure there were great fics before this one. But there’s something about this one that feels special. It’s incredibly funny, the smut is super hot, the characterizations all work so well, the OT5 friendships are perfect, and it has great banter. Louis is a high school drama teacher, Harry is the new assistant PE coach. Link is to a download.

#my fic rec #larry fic rec #office romance au #one direction fanfiction #I'm actually really surprised that I only have one true 'office romance' fic

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ri-ahhh · 5 years ago

Text

bad day

MJ has a bad day dealing with her snotty coworker, who wants MJ’s promotion and her boyfriend.

4.8k

warnings: potentially triggering BD thoughts/language; smut; obnoxious amount of fluff cuz idk about you but I need some softness

“Hi sweetheart,” Grayson says with a smile as MJ stalks into the living room with a scowl. She plops next to him on the couch and hurls her heels off with a flourished kick, glaring at where they land a few feet away on the shaggy rug. His grin falls when he notices her pinched face and lack of returned greeting. “Rough day?”

MJ nods and curls into his side, silently pleading for him to wrap her in his arms. Grayson obliges immediately and pulls her into his lap, tucking her as close to his chest as he can. When MJ asks for physical affection as comfort, which isn’t as often as you might think considering that’s one of the best ways she shows love, Grayson knows she really needs it.

“’S the matter, Peach?” he asks gently with a kiss to her forehead. He smooths her long hair down and scratches his nails lightly on her thigh as she snakes her arms around his waist. “Chanel again?”

Chanel Marten is MJ’s coworker and a petty, idiotic thorn in her side; every bit the LA bimbo with the stereotypical Barbie looks and meanness to match. When she isn’t calling MJ fat behind her back or constantly trying to undercut her to their bosses in light of an upcoming promotion they’re both up for, she’s actively hinting at how much she disapproves of MJ and Grayson together. She’s been a fan of the twins for years, and doesn’t make it a secret that she is very much attracted to Grayson, which MJ finds partly amusing and wholly fucking annoying.

“God, how do you let him go to those influencer parties alone?” Was what she asked earlier today at their office. She was scrolling through the series of photos on Grayson’s latest Instagram post from the night before, looking his sexiest in that half-open linen button-down and his Louis pants. “I wouldn't let him out of my sight in public if I were you.”

MJ glanced over at her blonde coworker and couldn’t believe the audacity of this woman to go through her man’s Instagram right in front of her. She didn’t acknowledge it, answering her question instead. “I trust him. And he’s not alone, he’s always with Ethan.”

Chanel twirled her hair and sighed, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. It was the end of the day on a Friday, and she probably could have gone home already, but had instead chosen to wheel her desk chair into MJ’s office across the hall from her own. For what, exactly, MJ didn’t know; they were far from friends, barely amicable coworkers at best. Antagonizing MJ was probably the start of a good weekend for Chanel.

Her suspicions were answered a moment later with Chanel’s next choice of words, her irritating vocal fry even more prominent than usual. “Yeah, but all of those IG models in one room, and you guys aren’t, like, super public. What if he wants a taste of what he doesn’t have?”

MJ squeezed her mouse in a death grip, but didn’t divert her gaze from her screen. “What are you implying, Chanel?” she asked irritatedly, her patience running at the thickness of a piece of paper for the bitch by then. She had already thrown MJ under the bus in their morning meeting with their bosses for something MJ’s intern had screwed up in their presentation, and MJ had caught her making snide comments in the break room about her ‘birthing hips’ and ‘thunder thighs’ to Annie the Asshole from Accounting. Annie was another coworker who, upon learning that MJ wouldn't invite Grayson along to after-work drinks simply so she could meet him, had immediately put MJ in her hypothetical burn book.

Right then, she finally had a moment to go back into their projections and fix what her intern Alessia had mistyped in the final presentation copy, and Chanel was only serving as both a reminder of her actions in the meeting and a distraction from her getting her work done.

MJ wanted nothing more than to be at home with Grayson by then, a tension headache creeping steadily up the back of her neck and into her temples. She had been the lead on this client presentation, so staying at the office until nine or ten at night hadn’t been an unusual occurrence lately; she was only glad by then that this was the end of a rough few weeks of work as soon as she was done fixing Alessia’s errors.

Chanel smirked but hid it as a simper of sympathy, clearly thrilled she was visibly getting under MJ’s skin. “I’m just saying, MJ, you’re super pretty, but, like, you don’t work out that much, right?I never see you in the gym here, or hear you mention going to one after work. I mean, Grayson being surrounded by girls who do fitness for a living would have to be like being in a candy store for him. We both know how much he cares about living a healthy lifestyle.”

She double-tapped the post, her too-long nails that were clearly trying to emulate Kylie Jenner’s or the like clicking obnoxiously against the screen, and sat back in her office chair. “I think if I were you, I’d quit this place and concentrate on building a following. Maybe try the fitness influencer route, yourself. It’s a pretty good trade-off, if you think about it; Grayson gives you clout, and you get snatched for him. And, you’d be able to keep a close eye on him. Boys will be boys, after all.”

That did it. Chanel Marten didn’t know her life, and she sure as hell didn’t know Grayson’s character. MJ finally took her attention off her iMac to give Chanel a glare that rivaled Lily’s ‘you’re dead to me’ look in How I Met Your Mother. It took every ounce of self control she possessed to hold herself back from acting on the overwhelming urge to punch Chanel’s newly-doctored nose.

Upon realizing MJ was done fucking around, Chanel’s smug smile slowly faded, until all pretenses were dropped, and the two women just stared at one another. No more fronts — not cordial coworkers anymore, but rival ones.

MJ knew what this girl was doing. Trying to make her insecure in her relationship with Grayson, and question her position in the firm so she wouldn’t go for the promotion. Chanel was as dumb as she looked if she thought either of these would work, but MJ had had enough of both her intelligence and her appearance being so blatantly insulted. She swiveled back to her computer and started doing the last couple of tweaks to the report that she had started before Chanel so rudely barged in.

“You know, next time you wanna pull a fast one and make me take the fall for an intern error, I’ll be happy to let Lacey know you’ve made us all rush this presentation by turning your last three sections of analytics in late, which is why I didn’t have time to review Alessia’s portion since I had to work your shit in last minute. I have time stamps on my email to prove it. Not to mention, the screen recordings of Snapchat stories of you at Saddle Ranch that someone showed me from the same nights you sent them. Should be pretty beneficial for my interview for Executive VP next month, don’t you think?”

MJ smiled and emailed the altered report back to her boss, Lacey, and made sure her computer was completely locked down before reaching into a cabinet for her purse and lunchbox. She stood and looked down at Chanel, who had her arms crossed tightly and her overfilled lips pursed so they were unusually pale and thin. MJ was going to leave it at that, but she was very much done being the bigger person, and a brief moment of pettiness came over her.

“And I hope you do find a man as good as Gray one day; maybe having someone as kind and real as him will make you less of a cold-hearted bitch.” MJ dug her keys out of her purse, motioning with her eyes from Chanel to the open door. “Now, please get out of my office. I’m ready to go home to my amazing, faithful, sexy boyfriend.”

Chanel scoffed and rolled her eyes but did as she was told, rolling back to her desk and giving MJ the cold shoulder as she breezed past her office.

“I didn’t fucking do anything to her,” MJ whines into Grayson’s neck after relaying all of this to him. Her bravado and smugness towards Chanel had dropped almost as soon as she reached her car in the parking garage of her downtown office building. Her insecurities had crept into her brain to join her full-fledged migraine and made driving home in traffic an even bigger nightmare than usual. “She’s hated me since the day I started there, no matter how nice I’ve tried to be.”

“She’s jealous, baby,” Grayson murmurs at once, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “You’ve come in and been there half the time she has, done the same job way better than her, and got recognized for it. Nobody likes to be outshone.”

MJ sighs and squeezes him reflexively as she moves on to the other half of Chanel’s dislike for her. “And it’s like getting bullied by the head cheerleader in high school. She basically told me I was too fat for you and that I don’t work out enough to ‘keep up with your healthy lifestyle.’” She lets out a little mirthless huff of laughter. “I mean, usually she says it behind my back to Annie the Asshole from Accounting, so I guess I should be appreciative that she at least had the decency to say it in so many words to my face tonight.”

Grayson sits in silence for a moment, seething internally at the thought that some dumb bitch who doesn’t know him in the slightest could have the nerve to talk to and about his girlfriend like that. He reaches for his phone on the couch next to them. “First of all, you're not fat, and I’d love you just the same even if you were. Second, give me all her at’s. I’m blocking this girl on everything.”

God, could the man get any more perfect? MJ sits up some and cups his face, shaking her head with a small smile. “No, no, it’s okay, Bear. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me. If anything, I’d want you to post a thirst trap just so she can see what’s not her’s. What’s mine.”

“I think that could be arranged tonight,” he smirks, giving her a chaste kiss.

She attempts to smile back, but it turns into a grimace as her head gives a massive throb out of nowhere. “Shit,” she mumbles, pressing her fingertips against her temples. Grayson gives her a concerned look before she explains, “Headache.”

It takes all of three seconds for Grayson to secure one arm around her back and hook the other under her knees, standing and holding her bridal style. “Come on,” he says, like she really has a choice in the matter, and starts carrying her to their room. MJ wraps her arms around his neck and nuzzles her head into his shoulder with her eyes closed to block out the evening sun. “We’re taking a bath, then I’ll order dinner to eat in bed while we have a movie night.”

MJ nods gratefully. As usual, he knows exactly what she needs. “Ratatouille?”

Grayson chuckles at the hopeful tone in her voice. Ratatouille is one of MJ’s ‘sick’ movies; something quiet and nostalgic that offers that weird feeling of peace that you need when you just don’t feel good. “Of course, Ratatouille.”

He sits her on the counter once they reach the ensuite bathroom and pinches her chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, planting a warm, lingering kiss on her lips; not heated, but comforting. Just what she needs in that moment.

“Stay put,” he commands quietly. MJ agrees and starts to unbutton her blouse as she watches Grayson step into the closet, pulling out one of her favorite t-shirts of his and a pair of his boxers. He puts the folded items next to her on the counter and helps her untuck the shirt from her cigarette trousers, tossing it in the dry-cleaning pile before reaching into one of her drawers and retrieving her makeup wipes.

MJ sighs and closes her eyes as she lets him gently drag the fresh-smelling cloth against the skin of her face. They aren't part of her usual skincare regimen, but Grayson has been exposed to her routine long enough and is perceptive enough to know that they’re for late nights, or ones like tonight, when she just doesn't have the energy to do more.

It feels better than if she had been able to get herself to use face wash and toner and such, anyways. The coolness of it and pressure of his fingers feel wonderful against her eyes and cheeks, alleviating some of the pain there momentarily.

MJ flutters her eyes open when he’s done. “Thank you, Bear,” she sighs, which he replies to with a kiss before walking over to the soaking tub. She hops off the counter and unbuckles her belt and pants, then unhooks her bra and steps out of her underwear.

Her reflection in the mirror glares back at her, Grayson in the background fiddling with the knobs on the tub to get the temperature of the water just right. She watches his muscles ripple with the slightest movements, his abs outlined through the fabric of his t-shirt, and can’t help but focus back in on herself. There’s some extra squish around her upper thighs and arms that no amount of training would get rid of; a softness to her tummy that probably comes from her undying love of Oreos, which are her nighttime vice. When she compares the two of them in this intimate space, maybe Chanel was right…

“Stop that.”

MJ startles a little and looks up in the mirror from where she had unconsciously started pinching and picking at what were really the bits of healthy pudginess under her skin, to find Grayson standing directly behind her. The harshness in his tone makes her withdraw and blush some, embarrassed that he had caught her at such an insecure moment.

He wraps his arms around her middle, his open palms brushing against the skin of her belly. His touch both warms her insides and causes them to erupt in nervous tingles. For some reason, MJ has a hard time seeing the two of them like this, with her completely naked and him fully clothed. She isn't afraid, never with Grayson, but she feels incredibly vulnerable in a way she isn't used to with him.

Grayson presses a kiss to the back of her head and makes sure they have eye contact through the mirror before he continues. “I’ll be damned if I let some idiot girl who doesn't matter to either of us make you feel like you’re not enough, MJ. You’re perfect, you hear me? You’re perfect, and I wouldn't change one inch of you, inside or out. Please don’t pick yourself apart like that.”

His voice holds a mixture of conviction and sadness, and MJ bites her lip as she sinks her back into his chest, her arms folding around his at her waist. She brushes her palm across the crisp, dark hairs covering one of his forearms.

“I could work out a little harder, though,” she murmurs after a few seconds of silence. “And cut back on a few carbs.”

Grayson looks at her incredulously. She’s lean and athletic, but it’s impossible to have the juicy, natural perfection of her ass and those breasts without a little extra, which he actually adores; she’s the very definition of slim-thick, a beautiful personification of the word.

He isn’t sure what kills him more inside: to think he hasn’t made it abundantly clear to her that he loves every square inch of her body; or if girls, society, whoever it is, make her think that the hard work she puts into her physique isn’t enough simply because she has a body type that isn’t what Instagram or people like Chanel deem ‘perfect’.

Either way, he’s going to rectify things right this instant.

“First of all, MJ, I know exactly how hard you work out; I’m doing it every morning with you, five days a week at 6 AM, remember? I’m the last person to lie to anyone about how much effort they give in their fitness. I know how hard you push yourself.”

He spins her around and cups her cheeks in his big hands. His stomach withers and his heart hurts when he sees the faint glitter of tears illuminating her emerald green eyes, making him want to be extra sure his next words are heard loud and clear. “Second, if I ever see that family sized box of double-stuffed Oreos in the trash, not empty, I’ll have a meltdown wondering where the hell my girlfriend went. Please, MJ. Those girls at your work are miserable cunts who only want what they can’t have. Don’t bring that energy back here, on us. I love you, exactly as you are.”

MJ takes a moment and considers his words before relenting with a nod. He’s right. Chanel and Annie should be the last things she’s thinking about when she’s got the man of her dreams right in front of her, saying all the right things and bringing her back to reality with his sweet, supportive words.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs, leaning in for a tight hug from him. “I love you, too.”

“Don’t apologize,” Gray assures, rubbing her back soothingly. “Let’s have a nice, relaxing night now, okay?”

MJ nods, pulling away enough from his body to grasp the hem of his t-shirt. He wags his brows playfully as he lifts his arms so she can pull the garment over his head, and gives her a quick smile before ducking down to kiss her.

She seems to be feeling slightly better, and a weight lifts from his chest at the realization. “Don’t distract me,” he mumbles against her lips after they make out lazily for a few moments. “Or our bath will overflow.”

“Don’t be so perfect, then,” she says back with a smirk, giving his ass a little swat as he returns to the tub and drops a Lush bath bomb and a chunk of bubble bar into the water.

While he does that, MJ opens one of the medicine cabinets. She isn’t big on taking pills, but she relents today and pops an Excedrin as her head pounded again. Once she swallows it with a handful of water from the sink, she starts to pile her hair into a bun, but is stopped by Gray’s grip on her forearm.

Her eyes had zoned out on a random spot on the counter, but at the pressure of his hand she looks up in the mirror to see him as naked as she is. “Don’t be silly,” he chides lightly, a smile toying at the corners of his lips. “You’re getting the full treatment tonight, Peach. I’ve got your shampoo and conditioner ready to go over there.”

He pulls gently down on her arm, and her hair tumbles back down over her shoulders and back as she lets him tug her to the warm, foamy water.

Ten minutes later, the Excedrin has kicked in, soft music from their ‘chill’ playlist plays through Grayson’s phone on the edge of the tub, and his strong fingers are creating heavenly relief for her as they scrub at her scalp. She’s totally relaxed in front of him, letting his broad chest and shoulders cocoon her smaller frame as her eyes droop and she moans lightly.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day, sweetheart,” he whispers in her ear, making her shiver despite the steaming water they sit in. She snuggles closer to his warmth. “And I’m sorry you have to deal with those assholes every day.”

It takes a moment for her brain to form the words, but she hums contentedly in reply. “It’s okay. Don’t know what I’d do without you, though, Gray.”

It’s so true. She has never been the girl to be codependent on anyone, let alone the man she’s in a relationship with, but Gray has achieved that honor in a matter of a year and a half. Probably earlier, if she were being honest with herself, but her adult life before him was a blur. She’s forgotten what it was like to not have him by her side, and she doesn’t want to imagine a scenario in the future where he isn’t.

He finishes washing her hair, lulling her into an even deeper trance when he moves her dark, wet locks over one shoulder so he can massage her neck with deep presses of his thumbs into her tight muscles. His fingers are nimble and dexterous, strengthened by his renewed passion for rock climbing, and are perfect for loosening the tension under her skin.

“Mmm, fuck,” she moans, not meaning for it to come out quite so pornographic, but she feels nearly orgasmic in the relief his hands are bringing her. Speaking of… “You’re gonna get the best head tomorrow, I promise.”

Grayson chuckles, squeezing her shoulders now, too. MJ feels him twitch against her lower back, but he says in her ear, “I’m not doing this for you to return the favor. I just want to be the one to make you feel better. Because I love you, and you’re mine, and you deserve it.”

“I know you’re not,” MJ smiles. “That only makes me want to do it even more.”

He grins and moves his hands further down her back beneath the water, massaging his knuckles into the soft skin there as well before coasting up her sides. He cups her breasts as MJ sinks back against him, her breathing picking up the slightest bit as his hands work magic there, too.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his hot breath flowing straight into her ear and sending goosebumps flaring over her skin.

More than okay, she thinks. MJ nods, and gasps when his hands pinch her nipples gently between his ring and middle fingers, tugging slightly. She takes his large hand off her right breast and sinks it into the water, straight to her center, her legs already parting to welcome him.

“Just rub me,” she whispers, eyes closed as he doesn’t hesitate to obey. “Circles, like this.”

MJ guides his fingers over her clit for a moment to show him exactly what she wants, but this isn’t their first rodeo and Gray knows perfectly well what he’s doing. She lets him take over and simply lies back against him as he expertly brings her higher and higher, until she’s falling over the edge, twitching in his arms and moaning sweetly.

Grayson tilts her head back to kiss him, sighing into her mouth as she twists in his arms to straddle him. He’s completely hard now, and she takes him in her hand instinctively. Twenty minutes ago, sex was the last thing on her mind, but she feels so good and relaxed now that she doesn’t hesitate to line him up and sink down slowly on his dick.

She grins smugly when his eyes fly open and he lets out an embarrassingly loud moan, completely surprised by a warm wetness that is vastly different from that of the bathwater. When she had stroked him in her hand he thought she might jerk him off, but her pussy, still deliciously tight from her orgasm, isn’t what he’s prepared for as he becomes slowly encased in it.

It’s a good thing she doesn’t meant for it to last long, because he’s so overwhelmed and caught off-guard it only takes a couple of minutes max of her grinding up and down on him while she whispers hot, dirty things in his ear, for him to shoot deep inside her.

“Shit,” he huffs out with a little laugh as she raises herself up enough for him to slip out of her pussy. “Did you just give me the equivalent of a hand job with your vagina? I know that wasn’t for you.”

She giggles and sits back in his lap, shrugging as she nuzzles his nose with hers. “What can I say, I’m feeling lazy tonight and that seemed like the faster option. Are you complaining?”

Grayson shakes his head vehemently. “Of course not, but I didn't want you to do any work tonight.” His brows pinch a bit and his lips turn down into a pout. “Are you okay? How’s your head?”

MJ smiles softly and brushes his cheek with pruned fingertips. Even post-orgasm, he’s still concerned only about her. “Better, Gray-bear. Thank you.”

God, she loves him so much. She can’t resist wiping her hands on the towel and reaching behind him to grab his phone to capture him in that moment. His hair has gone curly in the humidity of the bathroom; the light from the window shines perfectly on his chiseled face, making his sex-eyes nearly pure green and illuminating his full lips that have curled into a small, crooked smile as he realizes her intention. She laughs when he takes it upon himself after a few serious snaps to play up to the camera, scooping up some of the bubbles and blowing them off his palm while giving her a joking, coquettish expression. Finally, she puts her back against his chest once again and they take a couple of goofy, up-angle shots, close-ups of their faces.

Photoshoot over, Grayson sighs and hugs her tight to him as he sucks kisses up and down the sides of her neck while she goes through the pictures. He’s making her head swim, but she manages to determine three of her favorites and doesn’t even bother editing them before adding a simple heart emoji in the caption and posting them to his Instagram once she earns his approval.

She turns around to put the phone back on the ledge before leaning in to plant her lips on his, slipping her tongue between them sensually. She could kiss this man forever, but eventually they start slowing down. MJ moves her kisses to his sharp jawline, trailing her mouth across and down until she gets to his neck freckle. She gives it a peck before pulling back, meeting his hooded gaze with warm eyes. It feels so good to just give each other these little bouts of physical affection with no real end goal. Just enjoying each other’s company, in their own space, caressed by the comforting warmth and scents of the bath.

Eventually, MJ peels herself away from him and stands up. Grayson stares up at her adoringly, admiring the way the water cascades over her body and rains down back into the tub. “C’mon, I’m hungry.”

She looks like a naiad with her long, dark hair covering her tits and dripping sensual trails of warm water down the dips and curves of her body. As if she doesn’t look delectable enough to him right now, her pussy is inadvertently right in his face, and his hand instantly reaches up to touch her. “Me too,” he growls, his fingertips tracing her lower lips and parting them so her clit is exposed. His mouth literally starts to water as he thinks about her earthy taste and her slippery arousal coating his tongue.

Just as he’s ducking in to swipe his tongue over her slit, MJ grips a handful of his hair and stops him, tilting his head back with that grip to make him look up at her questioningly. “Not now,” she says, taking her turn to scratch her nails along his scalp for a moment. “Still sensitive. And actually starving; I had to spend my entire lunch break fixing part of that report.”

Grayson nods understandingly and lifts the plug in the drain before standing up as well. “Then let’s get some Monty’s in you, hm?”

“That sounds amazing,” she agrees, her stomach growling right on cue.

They both chuckle and Grayson helps her step out of the tub before wrapping her up in a big, fluffy towel. He kisses her nose, then her lips, and retreats into the closet with his own towel to find fresh PJs for himself.

An hour later, they’re chowing down on some burgers and shoestring fries together in the fresh blankets of their bed while Ratatouille plays through the projector. And Chanel’s stupid username hasn’t popped up once in his likes or comments.

#only posting this now bc ive been in a funk the past few days #and i need some soft over romantic fluff #also when i made my masterlist i realized there were 6 posts #and the number 6 is a huge trigger for my ocd i hate it #also this was already written haha so yeah #dolan twins #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan oc #dolan twins fanfic #grayson mj

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calm-and-wine · 4 years ago

Text

(I’ll give you) the best years

part V (masterlist, taglist)

hello, hope everyone is well and taking care of themselves! here is part 5 of best years, in case anyone needs a little escape. there will be one more part (more like an epilogue probably), but i’m not sure when it’ll be posted yet, because i do need to (and want to) write my one shot for the quarantine challenge. it will definitely happen though. anyway, hope you enjoy this one and i’d love to hear your thoughts!

PART V

November 2025

Life without tennis was weird, that was the conclusion Lucy arrived to after two months since her retirement. It wasn’t necessarily bad, just very different. She didn’t regret her decision, not at all, but it’ll take some to get used to that new situation. She spent a bit over a week in LA while the band was doing promo, then went away for a week, just her and Niall, back in Maui, celebrating their wedding anniversary and whatever the future had in store for them. That was good, quite normal, but coming back and not going back to training was not normal. Not having to wake up early was not normal. Not having to pay attention to her food or being able to drink alcohol as freely as she wanted was not normal. Well, it was her new normal and she should probably start getting used to it.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have anything else to do. She went to see her parents and stayed with them for a week. She had been making moves on starting the management to help young tennis players, attending meeting after meeting, trying to be as involved as her knowledge allowed her to, all the pieces slowly but steadily falling into place.

Her life hadn’t necessarily slowed down, it just took a different course. And in the middle of it all, her and Niall also started looking at houses. Their friends said it was crazy, them running around, from meetings and Niall’s rehearsals with the band, hurrying to not be late to meet with their estate agent. Lucy was actually more tired than she was while playing. But she wasn’t complaining. Because no matter how chaotic the days were, in the end, it was always her and Niall, under the same roof, in the same bed, together.

Even though they were both busy, they were about to be even busier. Well, Niall mostly. With the band’s first album after reunion being released in just over a week and a world tour starting in January, he definitely won’t be complaining about too much free time on his hands.

They just got home from looking at yet another house (fourth this week), going straight to the kitchen, with Lucy starting to heat up dinner she prepped earlier, while Niall put a kettle on for some tea. Even though they hadn’t spent a ton of time together at home, especially considering how long they had been in a relationship, they had no problem falling into step with each other.

“So, what did you think?” he asked, stepping behind her and putting a hand on the small of her back while reaching up beside her head to pull out two mugs from the cupboard. Because they drove separate cars, coming from different locations, they hadn’t even had a chance to talk properly.

“Um… It was alright, I liked the exterior, it’s very well-kept. Big garden, which is nice,” Lucy said, turning slightly to follow Niall’s moves.

“What about the inside?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’d need some renovation.”

He sighed, passing her a steaming cup, knowing she liked her tea almost scolding hot. She took it with a smile, also noticing he chose her favourite mug. “How come there are no good houses in London?”

“I know, right? I did not expect it to be that hard to find a nice home.” Because Niall was close enough, she took half a step and rested her forehead on his shoulder, him instantly putting an arm around her to rub her back.

“Could you see us in any that we’ve seen?” he asked after planting a sweet kiss on her hairline.

“I like the one we saw yesterday,” she said, raising her head, but staying pressed to his body. “It needs a lot of work, but it has good structure. It was finished terribly, we would have to change the floors probably, maybe take down a wall or two…”

“That’s probably doable though, right?”

“Did you like it?” she asked. It obviously needed to be a mutual decision, even if they may not stay in that house forever.

“Yeah, I did,” he assured. “It has everything we wanted, just needs some work, but at least we wouldn’t have to rebuild it. And I liked the location a lot.”

“Me too.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, her mouth going into the kiss. “Should we arrange for a contractor to take a look? See if it’d all be possible to do?”

“Mmm, yeah,” he agreed, planting another kiss on her lips. “I know it’s not perfect, but I’d say we try, I think we’ll feel different once we’re done with it.”

“I was never a big fan of perfect anyway,” she shrugged.

“In everything except your husband, obviously,” Niall pointed out.

Lucy laughed. “Oh, that especially, I settled.”

He looked at her offended, pinching her waist, which earned a yelp from her, instantly squirming in his hold. But he held her tightly, finding her lips for yet another kiss, both their faces lighting up with grins. They truly did not need a perfect house, because they already found the perfect home in each other.

The album was out. One Direction was officially back and everyone was loving it. The guys were special guests at the morning radio show, then did a few more interviews before arriving at the venue for their special show. It was their first proper show, only performing the singles on tv or radio before. But tonight was a ‘one night only’, when they would play the new album in its entirety, as well as their biggest hits, obviously.

Lucy, Maya and Ines met up at the venue, waiting for their guys to arrive. Eleanor was coming later with Freddie, everyone’s families and friends were going to be there as well. It was a big day and the buzz was evident in the air. When the band finally arrived, everyone could tell they were scared about the upcoming show. But there were also huge smiles on their faces and excitement coursing through their veins. They just hadn’t done it all in a while.

They all sat down to have dinner together, talking about their day, the amazing reaction the album got and everything in between. It was truly heartwarming to see them back together and happy like that.

Soon after, the guys had to go to soundcheck, the girls standing up, ready to join them, all except Lucy.

“Are you not coming?” Maya asked, looking at her surprised.

“Nope, this one is banned,” Niall replied before Lucy could utter a word, throwing an arm around her and squeezing her shoulder with a wicked smile on his face.

“Why?” Harry asked, looking at the couple with intrigue.

“Well, I’ve actually never seen your show, so he wants me to watch it properly,” she explained.

“No spoilers,” Niall smiled, proud of himself.

“You’ve seriously never been to our show?” Liam asked incredulously, to which Lucy shook her head. “Have you been living under a rock?” he snickered, genuinely surprised. Judging from the amount of people who used to come to their shows, they kind of thought most people have seen them perform at some point.

“Nope, just travelling the world, being one of the top tennis players, you know, the usual,” she replied with a laugh.

“Well, it might be for the better that you haven’t seen us in our golden years,” started Louis, “at least you’ll be less disappointed tonight.”

“Oh come off it, you’re gonna be amazing,” Ines chastened him, hitting his arm playfully.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Okay, lads, we need to go,” said Harry, trying to rush the boys, knowing their team was waiting.

“I’m actually gonna stay too,” Ines said, when he reached for her hand.

“Me too,” joined Maya. “It’ll be fun watching the show with a fresh mind.”

“Well okay then, we’ll be extra sexy during soundcheck, so you’ll be missing a lot,” Harry said playfully, which earned him a few laughs.

Each couple shared a kiss and hugs, with Louis making whiny noises behind them, because Eleanor wasn’t there yet, before the guys finally left.

Lucy loved hanging out with the girls. They were all very different, but still got along well, having this amazing thing connecting them. It was the same with the boys, all four of them with very different personalities, but forming a bond as strong as true brotherhood. It was the type of relationship you wouldn’t understand if you weren’t a part of.

She had fun hanging backstage, she always enjoyed those moments, everyone buzzing with excitement, talking, relaxing before going out there, and sharing it with the band, the atmosphere was even better. It was like a family.

After sending Niall off with one last kiss and an unneeded ‘good luck’, Lucy went out into the crowd. All the women decided to watch the show from the stands, only choosing side stage for the last few songs, so they could hug their men right after.

Watching Niall on stage has always been an incredible experience, making Lucy not only smile, but her heart fill with warmth, love and admiration. But seeing Niall on stage with his three brothers was another level. It was so easy to see just how much love those four guys had for each other, for what they were doing together. And the crowd… She had been to many of Niall’s shows, but she’s never seen or heard a crowd like that. That loud, that passionate. It was breathtaking. And knowing not only how hard the guys worked for it, but especially how much it all meant to them, made it even more awestracking. If she felt like that standing on the sidelines, she couldn’t even imagine how it must feel for the four men on stage.

Lucy knew Niall loved watching her play. And she felt like she truly understood why. How proud he always felt. Because seeing him up there on stage, she felt exactly the same way. There was nothing better than watching the person you loved doing the thing they loved.

April 2026

Niall was finally home. Sure, it’s only been 11 days since Lucy left the band’s tour and flew back home to take care of some businesses, meet with the few players her management was considering signing and oversee the renovation of their house. She spent over two months by Niall’s side, travelling through America and watching him perform night after night. And even after that time, she hadn’t gotten bored with seeing him on stage. She probably never would, just like he’d never get tired of performing.

Having just over two weeks together at home came at the perfect time. Not only because there were a few things that needed to be done in London, but mostly considering the conversation she had to have with her husband. A conversation that required a certain level of privacy, which was quite hard to find while almost constantly being surrounded by people on tour.

She occupied her time waiting with cooking dinner, his favourite of course, but her mind and stomach were turning, both with uncertainty of the upcoming conversation and excitement of seeing Niall again. But the sound of their gate opening brought her back to earth, making her instantly turn off the stove and leave the kitchen to properly welcome her husband.

She got outside just as Niall was grabbing his suitcase, so she ran up to him and threw her arms around his body, which was as familiar to her as her own, if not more. He saw her coming, having managed to close the boot of the car and open his arms just in time to catch her. At that moment she was so carefree, running wild just because she missed him, not caring about what the driver might think or how it might look, just happy to have her love home.

“Hi,” he said joyfully, moving his hand from her waist to cup her cheek and leaning down for a kiss.

“Welcome home,” she said before going in for a second kiss. They were both aware that they were stood in their driveway and not exactly alone, so they refrained from making out like teenagers.

“Thanks, John, see you soon!” Niall said over his shoulder to his driver, grabbing his suitcase in one hand, the other wrapping around Lucy and leading them into the house.

As soon as they were inside and the door was closed, his mouth was back on her.

“Niall,” she laughed, when after a minute he moved to her neck, “I made dinner.”

“Not hungry,” he said hurriedly, like he wanted to spend as little time without the contact of her skin as possible.

“But,” Lucy started, which made Niall pull away slightly, putting his hand on the back of her neck making their eyes meet. It was like that look made her grounded again, all the worries, stress, all the different scenarios she made up in her head, none of that mattered. He always had this amazing gift of making everything else disappear. Like it was just them two, at that very moment, their feelings the only thing that mattered. “I guess the dinner can wait,” she agreed, marking her words with a playful tag at his hair.

“Missed you, love,” he said with a wicked smile, before raising her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to hold tight, and carrying her upstairs to show her just how much he really missed her.

They were enjoying the peace and quiet after dinner, cuddled on the couch, an old rerun of the show they’ve seen already humming in the background while they chatted a bit, sharing the things that happened the last couple of days, even though they already knew the majority through their phone calls. The company of their spouse always brought a level of comfort, no matter where they were, but when they were together at home, there truly was nothing better.

Lucy turned her head slightly to check if Niall hadn’t drifted off to sleep during the lull in their talks and when he looked back at her with the softest smile, the one reserved only for her, she said what’s been on her mind for the past three days.

“I might be pregnant.”

Her statement made Niall sit up, turning his body to face her properly, his hands grabbing hers to make sure her attention is all focused on him.

“How sure are you?” he asked softly, his voice level, oozing nothing but calmness.

“Um… Not really, I’m late, but I haven’t taken any tests.”

He let go of one of her hands to rake a hand through his hair. “Shit, okay, should we go get some now?”

She bit her lip nervously. “There are three waiting in the bathroom upstairs.”

He looked at her carefully, trying to decipher how she felt about it all, but he could only see the slightly shake to her hands and a soft smile gracing her lips, which was a bit contradictory, but in a way he felt like he understood her mood perfectly, a balance between very nervous and excited.

“Shall we go now, then?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah,” she said getting up, Niall halting her for a second before she could walk away, their lips meeting in a very reassuring kiss, before leading her upstairs with a hand on the small of her back.

Lucy had three different tests she bought the day before tucked away in a medicine cabinet, waiting for Niall to get home, because it didn’t feel right to check on her own. She went into the bathroom, her husband walking circles around their bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. She picked all three tests up, read the instructions carefully before peeing on the sticks, laying them all on the sink and rejoining Niall in the room to not wait alone.

“Hey, you’re alright, yeah?” he asked, coming right up to her and grabbing her shoulders, massaging them slightly.

“Yes,” she said, stepping closer to hug him, needing the safety of his arms. “I didn’t expect it, but whatever happens, it’s okay. I mean we want kids anyway and maybe it isn’t the best time and we didn’t really plan it, but we’re ready, right?”

He smiled at her, reaching up to tuck a stray of hair behind her ear. “I think so, yes.”

They took a minute embracing each other, both holding the other tightly, both having this epiphany that their lives might be changed in a matter of minutes. There were some soft kisses shared, loving words of reassurance whispered, before Lucy’s alarm ringed out, Niall squeezing her one more time before wrapping an arm around her waist, their bodies colliding as he led them into the bathroom to see the results.

“You look,” she said, burying her head into his shoulder, trying to take deep breaths and stay calm. She wasn’t afraid of being pregnant. Sure it would change a lot, a kid would probably turn their lives upside down. But it wasn’t like they never talked about it, they both wanted kids, they wanted kids together. She loved Niall, he was her forever, there was no trace of doubt about that in her mind. But it was still scary.

“Hey, look at me,” Niall said after a minute, his calloused fingers cupping both her cheeks. When she looked into his eyes, she could see them begin to glisten. “They’re all positive.”

Before she could say anything, a huge smile broke into her face, Niall’s face instantly mirroring hers. “We’re gonna be parents,” she whispered, as it was some kind of secret only they knew, like she didn’t want to share it with anyone else, it was only for Lucy and Niall.

“We’re gonna be parents,” he whispered back, resting his forehead against hers, before pulling her impossibly close, his lips finding hers, the kiss soft and urgent at the same time.

When he pulled away after quite a few more kisses, he grabbed her by the waist, lifting her and swung her around the bathroom, the biggest smile on his face, a laugh escaping his lips, she was also pretty sure she caught a tear running down his cheek. She had her doubts, she had to admit that, but she was also incredibly happy. Niall felt like her home for the longest time, but now they’d be a proper family. They were growing, they were making even more plans together, it was all evolving, growing, especially the love. She didn’t think it was possible, but it truly felt like the love they shared only grew and grew and all she could hope for was that it would never stop.

As Lucy slowly came into consciousness, the sun trying to seep into the room through the curtains, as soon as her eyes cracked open, she saw Niall. It was the best feeling to wake up and feel his body connected with hers, even if it was just their feet tangled together. But it was a rare sight to wake up and see her husband already awake. But this morning he was just that, lying on his side, an arm curled under his head, watching her.

“What time is it?” Lucy asked, rubbing her eyes, voice groggy from sleep.

“Don’t know,” Niall replied shrugging, his eyes not leaving her face.

“How long have you been awake?” She turned on her side to face him properly, her hand setting on his bare torso.

“Don’t know.” He reached his hand to push back the hair falling onto her face, before lifting his head to plant a good morning peck on her lips.

She looked at him with furrowed brows, his behaviour a bit unusual. “Do you know anything? Have you not looked at the clock?” It wasn’t like him to wake up before her but it was even more unlike him to not check his phone right after.

“Nope.” His face was lit up by a content smile, his hand travelling from her cheek to her waist to pull her closer.

“Why not?” she asked, eager to get some answers, see what was going on inside his head.

“Why would I?” He threw the question back at her. “It doesn’t matter, we don’t have anywhere to be today. Why would I waste time looking at the time when I have such a beautiful angel to admire beside me?”

Even though the room wasn’t entirely bright, the curtains keeping the sun out for the most part, she could easily see the love in his eyes.

“What got you all soppy this morning?” she laughed, feeling her cheeks warming up at his words.

“You get me soppy all the time, it’s your magic ability.” He moved even closer, wrapping his entire body around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

“I missed this,” she admitted, pushing her fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing better than waking up together.”

He hummed, his hands gently roaming over her body before setting underneath her t-shirt (or rather, his), right on her belly. Her heart skipped a beat. Niall planted a kiss on her neck, before pulling away to press their foreheads together, looking not only into her eyes, but straight into her soul. Lucy could feel her eyes starting to glisten, and who knows, maybe it was the hormones, there were definitely many emotions filling her, the strongest of them all being love.

“We’re really gonna have a baby soon,” Niall whispered, cupping her cheek, ready to catch any tear that might escape.

“Yeah,” she managed to say, before he leaped in to kiss her, wanting to show her just how happy he was, how in awe and in love he was, how grateful he was for her.

“You’re okay with that, right? Having a kid now?” he asked after a minute, his voice laced with the slightest hint of insecurity. They talked about it last night, but he wanted to check in again, after some of the emotions died down.

Just looking at him, concerned about her and her feelings, made her heart soar and a smile graced her lips. “Of course I am. It’s unexpected, sure, but I’d say we’re in a pretty good place, maybe it’s not ideal timing, but it’s not terrible either.” She propped her head on her shoulder to get a better look at Niall, making sure he not only heard her, but also knew she meant every word. “I’m happy. We’ve known for a while we wanted children, so we might as well start now, right? We’re having a baby, of course I’m happy. Pretty scared, but happy.”

“I feel like the happiest man, honestly. You always make me the happiest.” He grinned so much this morning, his cheeks would probably start aching before the clock even hit noon.

“Do you think we’ll be alright as parents?” she asked, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers.

“Well, I have no doubt you’re gonna be the best mum. And I’d like to think I’m gonna be an alright dad.”

“You’ve always been amazing with kids.”

“Yeah, but it’s a bit different with your own, right?” He shrugged before moving onto his back and looking at the ceiling, like it could hold some answers. “I think you might have to be the strict parent most of the time. I’m too soft for those kinds of things.”

Lucy chuckled, leaning up and over him. “We’ll figure it out,” she assured. “I need to call my doctor and actually get an appointment first.”

“You’re still coming with us to Europe, right?” He asked, looking up at her hopefully.

“Yeah, it should be okay, right? We’ll ask the doctor, but I think so. We need to get the house done though. Especially now.”

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll make it. Everything will be alright and if not, we’ll figure it out.”

She went in for another kiss, before settling down onto his chest. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” He moved his hand around to her belly and looked down. “And you little bean.”

July 2026

“You can see my belly, can’t you?” Lucy asked, turning every which way in front of the mirror.

Niall glanced at her from his place on the bed, looking away from the emails he’s been responding to and taking in his wife. She had a pretty summer dress on, the mixture of elegant and cute, looking as beautiful as ever. But he felt like he was on thin ice, because yes, he could easily make out a small baby bump beneath the material, but he was more than familiar with her body and was pretty sure this was not the response Lucy wanted to hear.

“Well… Yeah, but that’s just because I know it’s there,” he said, gesticulating to her stomach.

She huffed irritatedly, clearly not happy with his answer. “I don’t have anything to wear, then.”

Niall sighed (but not loudly enough for her to hear), closing his laptop and going to stand behind his wife, grabbing her hand to pull her close. “You look beautiful, love. And if someone can spot your bump, so what?” He knew Lucy wasn’t feeling great lately. Her belly started growing and as much as he thought that made her even more sexy, she didn’t feel perfectly comfortable with it yet, so used to the way her body had been pretty much the same for years. The fact that she had been feeling like shit, growing tired way too soon and morning sickness lasting almost all day, did not help.

“It’ll probably make tens of articles pop up speculating,” she reasoned, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He shrugged, clearly unbothered. “I say, let them. Fuck it, you know? It’s ours, yeah, but we can’t keep it on the downlow forever, so we should just do whatever we want to. And not care. You are pregnant, so why hide it?”

She bit her lip, taking a moment to think through his words. “Are you sure I look alright?” she asked again. “There will be a lot of people. And pictures.”

“You look stunning, Lulu,” he assured, marking his words with a kiss. “Like always, but even more. You’re glowing and I’m loving it.”

“I do not feel glowing,” she huffed.

He looked at her with concern. The doctor said it was all normal, some women feeling better, some worse, so technically there was no cause for concern, but he still worried, especially knowing that she was happy with the pregnancy, but couldn’t actually enjoy it, because it was not being easy on her. Having her on tour with him was good and bad at the same time, he was glad he could keep an eye on her, but it was hard seeing her struggle, especially all the travelling taking its toll on her. She assured him she was fine, time and time again, being an absolute champ about it all, which of course she was. But he was a husband, it was his job to worry.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay today? How’s the sickness?” he asked, holding her steady by the waist and taking a step back to look at her properly, almost like he was trying to assess her state, even though there were no clear symptoms.

“Not awful, but not the best either,” Lucy admitted, having trouble to even remember when was the last time she actually felt good. She took his hands and wrapped them tight around her waist, stepping closer to him once again. “You’ll be by my side, so I’ll be alright.”

He sighed, knowing there was no point in discussing it further. He did plan to make her ginger tea in a travel mug, so she could drink it on their way, hopefully calming some of her nausea, because that was pretty much all he could do to help her. “Are you excited?” he asked, changing the subject. They were going to watch the women's final at Wimbledon, with Lucy not only being invited, but also asked to take part in the trophy ceremony. It was a great honour, he understood that, of course he did, but just a little part of him wished she would take it easy. Stay home if she didn’t feel great. Especially because he knew she was stressed out about it. Not only about how she looked, despite all the questions she just asked, that was probably the least of her concern. She didn’t like being in public like that. Maybe she wouldn’t be the centre of attention, but she’d still be under the spotlight. She worried about making a mistake, having thousands of eyes on her, all the comments that might come after. She knew how to play on a tennis court, not hand trophies.

“Yeah. Really excited,” Lucy said, a smile taking over her face. “A little stressed, especially since I could technically feel the urge to throw up at any minute.” Niall was about to say something, probably along the lines of her canceling, so she pressed her palm against his mouth to shut him up. “But it should be fine. I’m really hoping Naomi will win, she deserves it so much.”

She didn’t just say it because she had beaten Naomi last year, but as a friend and a fellow player. They already made plans to meet up for lunch on Monday for a little catch up.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, they asked us to come in on Wednesday to see the house, they need some decisions regarding the living room, I think.” Lucy said, after Niall finally went into their wardrobe to change. She was just about to hurry him, not wanting to be late and knowing the traffic will probably be awful.

“Do you have any other plans on Wednesday?” he asked, coming back into the room, dress pants on and starting to button a light blue shirt.

“There might be a meeting regarding the sporting centre, I’m not sure yet. But if I’m busy you’ll handle it, right?” Lucy asked, not even trying to hide the fact that she was ogling her husband’s naked chest. Damn, she loved his body. And his heart and soul, but his body… It made her crazy, especially now when her hormones were all over the place.

“Yeah, of course,” he said right away, knowing Lucy was actually the one making sure everything was on track with their house, so he could take some of that load now that he was home for three weeks.

“And I might not be coming out for that last leg of your tour.” She said, finally turning around and going to put finishing touches on her makeup.

“Wait, what? Why?” Niall asked, stopping his movements to look at her.

“Just…. The house is gonna be a shit show next month, with most of the general work being finished, the furniture and equipment starting to arrive, the other crew coming in… We can’t ask Mia and Nat to keep an eye on it all the time.” She didn’t turn around, didn’t even raise her eyes to look at him through the mirror, because she didn’t want to see his expression. Seeing the disappointment on his face might just make her cry. And she spent way too much time trying to make her eyes look decent with makeup to destroy it now. “Plus there’s been talk of some more meetings, getting the ball really rolling for the centre… And it might be good for me to slow down for a bit. Especially all the travelling. I haven’t decided yet, maybe I’ll come down for Australia.”

“Oh okay. I mean…” he sighed, his hand going up to his hair and stopping at the very last second when he remembered it was already styled. “Yeah, it might be good for you to chill for a minute. But I’ll hate not seeing you for weeks again. And I don’t like the prospect of leaving you alone with it all.”

Lucy finished applying her lipstick before finally turning around, his eyes already trained on her, a weak smile on his face. Niall didn’t mean to make her feel bad or guilty, that was never the case, but he also wanted to be honest. And she knew he was coming from a good place, always.

“I’m a big girl, I’ll be fine,” she said, coming up to him and cupping his cheeks, making a move to plant a kiss on his lips, but pulling away a second before their lips met, not wanting to put lipstick on him, which made him whine and her let out a little laugh. “It’s just a few weeks. And then you’ll be home. And I’ll be here. And we’ll be moving while also preparing for the baby, so that will probably be a shitshow, but hey, at least we’re in this together.”

He smiled, kissing her cheek. Then the other. And then her neck, making her giggle. “‘Course we are. Always.”

October 2026

Putting finishing touches and getting ready to move houses while being seven months pregnant was not ideal. Thankfully they were both home now, after Lucy flew to Australia for the last shows of One Direction’s first tour back, they came back two weeks ago, after spending a few days longer, just relaxing, on the other side of the world.

All of this made Lucy stressed, her pregnancy made her uncomfortable most of the time and the impending arrival of the baby made her feel unprepared, no matter how many books and blog posts she had read. Because of that, it was no surprise to Niall that she wanted a quiet birthday. Lucy was never a fan of huge parties, especially the ones thrown in her honour. He proposed going away to their getaway house in Ireland, but she had insisted there were too many things to be done and overseen here, so he didn’t push, not wanting to make her even more stressed or upset. He did however make sure she hadn’t done anything unnecessary that day. Bringing her waffles and tea to bed in the morning, staying wrapped up in each other until midday, spending the next few hours cocooned on the couch, talking and watching tv, catching up on the lost time while they were apart.

However, when it was nearing the evening, he did ask her to get ready, saying he had something special planned.

“If you threw me a party, I’ll kill you,” she said while walking down the stairs, ready to go out. She knew it wasn’t dinner, because they had eaten not too long ago, Niall cooking her favourite of his while she admired him at work from the kitchen counter. He just chuckled, refusing to give her any hints.

But he did throw her a surprise party. Well, maybe not necessarily a party, more like a gathering. He got all of 1D with their better halves, their friends, her parents, Mia and Natalia, his own parents, even few of the people she’s been working closely with at the tennis management. The place wasn’t too crowded, filled with people she knew and appreciated. The music wasn’t too loud, you could easily have a conversation without screaming at each other. There was a bar, but not a proper dancefloor, just a little free space in case anyone wanted to bust a move, which eventually they did.

It was special, a perfect night to finish off the perfect day, the gesture making her cry more than once (which was fine, because at least she could blame it on the hormones). She trusted Niall completely and moments like those just proved how he truly knew her, giving her the perfect balance of what she wanted and what he knew she’d enjoy.

But now it was nearing 5am and she was lying awake, over half an hour since she woke up. She was uncomfortable. Huffing and throwing away the comforter because she was too hot, then growing cold mere minutes later. Not even her pregnancy pillow brought her any comfort tonight. She was just about to try getting up, when Niall stirred besides her, his eyes cracking open and his hand going to rub at her back as soon as he noticed she wasn’t asleep.

“Everything alright?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, I couldn’t settle comfortably and now I’m wide awake,” she explained.

Niall hummed, looking at her in the darkness, her eyes tired, brows furrowed. He could see she was stressed or anxious, like she had been most of the time lately. It made him worried. He tried his best to take as much burden off her as he could, especially now he was home.

“I’ll go make some tea and then give you a message, hmm, how’s that sound?” he asked, bumping her nose cutely.

“I’ll go with you,” she said, throwing the comforter off her body already.

“No, you relax, you’ve been on your feet half the night, you should rest.”

“I need to stretch, I’m too uncomfortable now,” she reasoned, which made him give up easily, ready to help her up right away.

They went downstairs holding hands, because that’s just how they usually walked, him not really letting her do anything beside walking around the kitchen to stretch her limbs, before going back to bed, Niall refusing to even let her carry a cup.

“I know you’re tired because of the house and the pregnancy hasn’t exactly been easy on you, but there’s something else also troubling you, I can tell,” he said, as soon as they were settled into bed, Lucy propped against the headboard, while he sat cross legged in the middle, facing her.

When he woke up, she didn’t expect him to stay up with her. They went to sleep just a few hours before. Sure, he only had two beers last night, saying he was gonna keep her company in the sober club, even though she insisted she was fine with him having some drinks. So he wasn’t even buzzed anymore, but it was 5 am, he must have been tired. And yet, he was ready to stay up with her, have tea and an actual conversation, just because she couldn’t sleep. That was love, gestures like those only made her appreciate him more and more.

“It’s just a lot, I don’t know,” she shrugged, not really sure how to even explain her feelings. “I’m anxious about the baby, I wish we were done with the house already and… I just… I don’t know what to do with the training centre.”

“Well, the house is almost ready and I’m back now, I can handle most of it. Especially the packing, you’ll just sit and give me orders and I’ll get it all done, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. It’s not good for you nor our little bub,” he marked his words with a gentle hand rubbing her swollen stomach. “And what’s up with the centre? You’ve been having quite a few meetings about it lately, yeah?”

“Yes and if I was going to pull out, I’d need to do it now.”

He sat up a bit straighter, looking at her confused. “Wait, why the hell would you pull out? I thought you were excited about it.”

“I was, yeah, but…” Lucy huffed, playing with a loose thread in the comforter. “Just how will it work? I was hoping to get it done at the end of this year or the start of the new at the latest, but with a kid.. I don't know, I can't do it all.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” he scooted closer, noticing she was starting to get upset and placing a calming hand on her knee. “You’re not alone in it, love. I’m here,” he assured with a small smile. “And I know I’ve been busy, touring and all, but I’m home now. I’m here for you, we’re in this together, yeah? You’re never alone with anything.”

“Maybe i should just postpone it. Wait a year or something.” She shrugged again, looking down, her eyes unfocused.

He licked his lips, thinking of the best response. “You can if you want to. But if not, we can make it work now.”

Lucy finally raised her head, meeting Niall’s eyes, the look he was giving her nothing but gentle. “I’m just scared that if i put it off now, it’ll never happen,” she admitted. “Because then it’ll probably be another kid, I really doubt we’re gonna be done with one, and just… it’ll fade away.”

“No, I won't let it, love,” he was quick to assure her, grabbing her hands in his and squeezing. “I know you want it. And if you want it now, we’ll make it happen. Or if you want to wait half a year, or less or more, you’ll do it then. But I’ll make sure it’ll happen for you.”

Lucy’s lip started wobbling and tears began streaming down her cheeks. Niall reached to wipe them right away, letting go of one of her hands, but still holding the other.

When she calmed down, he asked, “Tell me how do you see it anyway? I know you want to be involved in it, not just set it up, but do you want to just generally oversee it or train someone or… I don’t know.”

“Umm… I think oversee mostly,” she said. “Pop in to see how everything’s going. Talk to people, trainers, players… everyone. Conduct training from time to time, but not really regularly. Taking on a player would be too much for me.”

“Well, couldn’t you do it now?” he asked, giving her a look of confidence. He was always the one who brought her courage when her own ran out. “Like, even soon after our little bug is born, you’d be gone for a couple of hours tops, not everyday,” he explained. “I think it’d be alright. Might even be good for you.”

“What about the band? Aren’t you planning another album? Another tour?” She asked, not exactly sold on the idea. It was something she’s been turning over in her head, trying to come up with a perfect plan, but she wasn’t sure it existed.

He shook his head. “There’s gonna be a little version of us both super soon and you expect me to leave for months upon months? No chance.” She chuckles, hitting his arm lightly to make him be serious. “There are plans, yes, we for sure want to continue, but not right away. I mean, we’ll probably pop into the studio from time to time, but no schedule, we just want to relax right now. Put our families first. We’re having a baby. It’s technically a secret, but El’s pregnant as well. Harry is getting engaged…”

Lucy squeaked in excitement at all those news. “What? El’s having a baby? That’s amazing. And Harry! Finally! Did he get a ring?”

Niall grinned, finally seeing his wife happy and excited making him feel a bit lighter. “Yeah, showed us like a month ago, fingers crossed he’ll actually man up and pop the question.”

She giggled. “That’s crazy. Maya has told me that she and Liam had talked about trying for a little one as well. Ahh can you imagine our kids being so close in age?”

His face matched her grin. “They’d be best friends.”

“Definitely.”

“But, to get back on topic, I’ll be staying put for the foreseeable future. Ready to take care of you and our bug and everything. So do your thing, don’t be scared, please. You know we’ll work it out.” He moved to his knees to get close enough to plant a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, love. I’m your husband, no thank yous needed.”

“Yeah, but I still want to thank you,” she marked her words with another kiss. “For being the best husband and the best teammate ever.”

“You don’t have a lot of experience with teammates though, right?” Niall pointed out with a chuckle. “With tennis being an individual sport and all…”

“Yeah yeah, alright, here’s my trying to be nice and you ruining it. Just like always.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her body and bringing her flush to him. “I love our little team of three.”

Lucy went in for yet another kiss, having to agree with him.

taglist: @stylishmuser @verorax @georgiahoranxx @exoticniall @awomanindeniall @soullikestyles @bopbopstyles

#dtl #1dff #one direction fanfiction #niall horan fanfiction #one direction fan fiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan oneshot #one direction one shot #down the line

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horansqueen · 5 years ago

Text

You & Me : chapter 36

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34|| CHAPTER 35

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his -4.2k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: idk what to write here anyway no one reads it lol! but yea im posting this for Isa because she’s probably the only one who still cares about this story lmao ILYSM!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : some requests i didnt add because i didnt want to spoil this. theyll be added in the next chapter and probably at the END of the chapter lol

TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE

Chapter 36 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

April 7th, 2018

I fell asleep on the bed as soon as we got done with diner. I finally had a day off and an other one the next day but I had been working non-stop for 6 days until late at night (or early in the morning) and I was exhausted. I shivered and woke up slowly, feelings my lips curl at Niall's touch. His fingertips were brushing up and down my arm, making goosebumps appeared on my skin, and I let out a low whimper.

"I missed you. How long have I been sleeping?" I asked in a mumble, forcing myself to open my eyes.

"You've been asleep for two hours." he pointed out before chuckling.

"I don't care." I let out with a childish voice. "I missed you anyway."

I squirmed a bit and ended up with my head on his lap. My lips curled into a smile when I felt his fingers slip in my hair and I breathed in, inhaling his scent and his expensive perfume.

I knew I was already fucked. I knew it was over for me and that if Niall and I broke up again at some point, it would kill me. At this point, being official or not didn't change anything anymore. I remembered back then, before I dated him, I always tried to suppress my feelings for him, I always managed to put a wall in front of them to hide them from everyone and especially myself. Right after One Direction's last tour, the walls collapsed and crashed, exposing my feelings to practically everyone, and at that time, it shocked me how much I loved him, how deep, real and intense my feelings were. They grew even more when we dated and remained stronger than ever for so long after he broke up with me. I was there with him now, my walls completely wrecked, and it made me realize that I had put my walls back in front of my feelings when I started dating Dylan but that wall was not that strong and Niall easily tore it apart without even knowing it. I was tired. I was exhausted to keep that wall there. Perhaps I had even helped him taking each brick off, one by one. Yeah, the more I thought about it, the more I was sure it was a team work.

"I was thinking we could go out tonight."

I groaned and wiggled a bit to press my face on his stomach, making him chuckle. "I'm tired."

"I know, but Louis says he misses you." he pointed out, making me groan again. "Come on, I'll buy you a few drinks."

I remained silent for a few seconds, wondering if I should go or not. I was pretty sure it would be fun but at the same time, spending time in bed, cuddling with the man I loved seemed even better. I moved a bit to lay on my back and look up at him. He was the only person in the world who looked good from this angle.

"Are you gonna stay with me the whole time?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Yes."

"You'll hold my hand under the table?" I added, staring at him and making him smile.

"I will."

"You're gonna dance with me whenever I ask you to?"

"Baby, we're not going in a club." he pointed out. It made my eyebrows raise up more and my lips part. "Fine, yes, I'll dance with you whenever you ask me."

My facial expression turned into a happy and satisfied one and I quickly got up, reaching for his closet.

"We have a deal, then!" I just said, trying to find something decent to wear before deciding on a pair of jeans and a band shirt (not a One Direction one, this time). It took me about 20 minutes to put make up on and when I joined Niall in the living room, I tilted my head as he got up.

"You look so good." I pointed out, moving closing and putting both my hands on his chest, my palms pressed on his blue dress shirt. "You're so classy and here i am, wearing jeans and a shirt."

He laughed a bit, moving his chin up slightly. "You want me to get changed?"

"No, I want you to get naked."

He laughed. "That's not happening. Louis is waiting and you know damn well he can show up just to annoy us." he explained with a smirk as I chuckled. "Tube?"

"Cab?" I argued, raising my nose up.

I didn't want our pictures taken, I didn't want to meet people, or get caught by paps. All I wanted was a nice evening with my friends and mostly, with Niall. He moved his arms around my waist, intertwining his fingers on my back and nodded slowly before sighing.

"Anything you want."

I smiled at him and moved closer to kiss his lips. He tasted good and I felt his hands move up on my back before smiling against his lips. If he changed his mind and asked me to stay home, I definitely wouldn't be against it. Unfortunately, we ended up at the bar quite quickly and after a while, I just stared at my glass, lost in my thoughts, before Louis leaned closer to me.

"'Dans la lune'?" I smiled and looked up, meeting his blue eyes. His lips curled too and he raised his eyebrows. "I've been practicing. How's my accent?"

"Almost as bad as Niall's." I just said, laughing when I saw him frown as his lips parted in shock.

"Hey, wait!" I heard, turning to Niall who was frowning too, clearly insulted. "I'm very good at that!"

"Honestly, no you're not." I admitted, raising my nose up and shrugging. "I'm sorry but you both suck at it."

"Well, you know what I'm good at?" Louis asked, getting up. "Paying beer for everyone."

He left and I turned to Niall, frowning a bit when he was looking away. I followed his eyes and my heart skipped a beat when I realized he was looking at a girl, sitting afar at a table. I took the time to look at her and bit my bottom lip before sighing. I couldn't be jealous, not now, and I couldn't pretend the girl was not beautiful. Still, it did hurt me and at the same time, it was ridiculous to expect him to never find an other girl pretty in his whole life.

"What are you looking at?" I asked low, getting his attention back.

His eyes roamed on my face and he blinked a few times. "Oh, no one."

"I didn't ask 'who', I asked 'what'..." I pointed out, licking my lips. "You were looking at that girl? She's pretty."

It was a lie. She was more than that, but it was too hard to admit.

"Yea, not bad." he replied, making me roll my eyes.

"Look, I know you think she's sexy, don't lie to me."

He sighed and reached for my hand under the table, making the left corner of my lips raise up. It was hard to be mad, or feel sad, when Niall was looking at me like that and I just tilted my head, staring right back at him. It didn't matter if he found other girls pretty, all that mattered was that he loved me, and that he wouldn't go back to his old habits.

"Okay, she's hot. But you're sexier." he bent closer to kiss me and I held my breath before he moved back slowly, remembering we weren't supposed to tell anyone that we were sort of seeing each other. He looked away, but not in the direction of the girl, and I just licked my lips as I watched him grab his beer and take a sip of it.

"Have you ever thought about having a threesome?"

He choked slightly and swallowed hard before wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. The sight was endearing and I chuckled.

"What?"

"I don't know, I was just saying." I proposed, shrugging a shoulder and making his eyes open slightly more.

"Would you be willing?"

I let my eyes move on his face and started questioning myself. I had no idea if I was and somehow, I felt like our relationship, whatever it was, was still very fragile at that point. Not our love, of course, that was strong, but the trust I had for him was still shaky and it scared me.

"I had a threesome before and it ruined the relationship I had with one of the girls. I think it's the main reason why me and her broke up."

He nodded and pressed his lips together. "Yea me too. Although I was pretty hammered I can definitely say it didn't help our couple, or whatever it was that we had." he paused and looked down before looking up in my eyes. "But we could make rules."

"Rules? Like what?"

He shrugged. "You tell me."

I stared at him again and I suddenly wished I never proposed that. I glanced at the girl on the other side of the room and felt something stir inside me. Yes, I was more confident about my body, but at the same time, I knew the bodies Niall was normally attracted to had nothing in common with mine.

"You.. can't kiss her. Or get your dick inside her." I pointed out, licking my lips nervously. "I don't want her to touch you, or-"

"Okay!" he laughed, shaking his head. "It'll be faster if you tell me what I'm allowed to do instead."

I groaned low and grimaced but I felt a bit better when he squeezed my hand again. I felt ridiculous for that feeling and I was wondering if it was my self-confidence that was getting low again, or simply the fact that it would hurt me to see the man I love making out naked with an other girl. I had seen Niall with other girls often in my life, and it has hurt me enough in the past, didn't it?

"We don't have to do it if you don't want to." he shrugged with a fond smile. "It's just a discussion for now. I mean, you know it's you I love, right?"

"Put yourself in my shoes, Niall." I tried to explain. "I mean we could have a threesome with a man."

"I'm not.. so sure." he replied with a frown.

"See?" I pointed out a bit louder, leaning against my chair and making him roll his eyes, amused.

"It's different, I'm not into men, but you're into women."

"But that's not what it's about." I explained a bit lower, tilting my head. "It's about us, and the feelings we have for each other. I've shared you so often before. I even lost you a few times. What if it happens again this time?" I sighed and shook my head. "I'll think about it."

"Hey, hey." he whispered, moving closer to me and leaning his elbows on his knees. "Don't stress over something so futile okay? I'd be totally fine watching you have sex with an other girl while I just sit close on a chair and jerk off f like a fuckin’ loser."

This time, I laughed and I just had time to see his lips curl into a smile before I tapped on the front of his cap, making it move down over his eyes. He placed it back and I noticed his eyes were shining. I tilted my head and my lips parted but just as I was about to say something, he kept talking.

"And yes, it would piss me off to see you get fucked by an other man." His gaze dropped to my shirt and moved up to my eyes again. "I'd probably throw him out."

I laughed again, feeling the sudden urge to kiss him. He smelled so good, he look beautiful and he was so close... All I could think about was grab his shirt with both hands and pull him close to feel his lips crash against mine. With all the strength in me, I got up and nibbled on my bottom lip for a few seconds.

"I'll be right back."

Quickly, I walked to the lady's room and leaned both hands against the counter, letting my head fall down slightly and closing my eyes. It was so tough to stay away from him all the time and it was starting to drive me insane. Of course, I didn't want our relationship out in the open but if our friends knew, it would make things a lot easier. I was so sure it was the right thing to do a few weeks ago but now, my certainty was faltering. It was harder and harder as the days went by and even if it was just to protect me at first, I knew it was useless now. I loved Niall. I always would. And being official or not wouldn't stop me from hurting if he decided to leave again.

Without thinking, I grabbed my phone in my pocket, moved my shirt up and bougfht my phone up too, to snap a picture. I quickly sent it to him before unclasping my bra and moving it up, taking an other picture. I sent it too just as I was getting a message from him.

'Fuck petal show me more'

My lips curled at his words and It only took a few seconds to get a second one.

'I want to suck on your tits so bad pet'

I swallowed hard and felt my whole body throb as I typed an answer. 'Do it now, then.'

I leaned against the counter and waited but when the door opened, I felt my heart jump in my chest, hoping it was not someone else. I sighed when I saw it was him and his eyes roamed on me for a few seconds. He turned around and locked the door, making me chuckle and I held myself back on the counter with my two hands.

"I hope we don't get caught."

"I don't care." he replied, making me smile more.

He took a few steps closer and even If I should have expected it, I held my breath when he bent down quickly. His lips wrapped around one of my nipples and I felt my legs tense as a short whimper got out of my throat. I felt his tongue flick on it before he sucked on it gently and when he moved to my other one, I glanced down only to see how hard the first one was. I remained motionless, my eyes half-closed, as his mouth, lips and tongue focused on my tits and after a while, my lips parted, my eyes closed completely and I let my head fall back on my shoulders slightly.

He stopped and I felt his hands on my hips, helping me up on the counter and when he moved between my legs, I felt my heart jump in my chest. His lips found mine and his hands reached my breasts as he kissed me deeply. He had moved his cap around and I just reached it to take it off, leaving it on the wet counter and slipping my fingers in his hair.

"Why didn't you wear a skirt, lover, it would have been easier to fuck you."

The sweet nickname made me smile against his mouth. I loved how impatient he was and I could feel his hard cock press on one of my thighs. He rubbed himself gently against me and I moaned again in his mouth before pulling away and licking my lips. I pushed on his chest gently and got off the counter before taking a step back as I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans quickly. He stared at me, his gaze moving from my hands to my face and back to my hands as I pushed my pants and panties down to my knees and raised my eyebrows.

"I can bend down for you."

He walked up to me, turned me around and pushed me against the wall. I held my breath as his hand moved between my thighs to reach my pussy and he groaned, grabbing my waist and pulling it closer to him before spanking me one time but hard. I pressed my palms on the wall and closed my eyes when I felt the tip of his cock press on my walls and let out a curse word when it slipped inside me. My fingers curled and my short nails scratched against the wall as he started fucking me hard and fast. His hands found my breasts again and he grabbed them hard as a balance to fuck me deeper.

I was happy both of us hadn't drank too much and when he leaned against my back, I felt his lips brushing near my shoulder as he grunted.

"No one turns me on like you." he let out, making me hold my breath again. "No one makes me cum like you."

He pulled me away from the wall and pushed down on my back, holding me there with a hand on one of my shoulders as he spanked me again a few times. I could feel myself throb around his cock as he remained still and when his other hand reached for my other shoulder. I bent down more, making sure I was far enough from the wall, knowing he was about to go harder.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum."

He started fucking me so hard I had to put my own hand over my mouth to make sure I wouldn't moan too loud and I felt myself reach an orgasm as he fucked me deep. I shook against him for a few seconds and he groaned, waiting until I relaxed a bit to pull out and jerk off quickly. It took only a few seconds before I heard him groan louder, the tip of his cock rubbing against my ass, and my eyes fluttered close when I felt him push himself back inside me, fucking me for half a minute before his thrusts faltered.

"Fuck. I'm so sorry." he apologized as I moved up. He wrapped his arms around me and I could feel his cock brush against my ass. "I came all over you. And then inside you."

The thought made me shiver and he ran his hands on my breasts before pulling on my shirt to cover them. He took a step back and I saw him tuck his dick back in his pants as I turned around. I moved my panties and pants up and then worked on my bra when we heard someone push on the door. I held my breath and my eyes got bigger but Niall just chuckled.

"Liv? It's El!"

Without hesitation, Niall unlocked the door and opened it, leaving Eleanor speechless. I had to admit it was worth it and I laughed a bit.

"Uhm when you two are... well, done, I guess? There's shots waiting for you..." she grimaced and shook her head. "Okay. Bye. Gross."

I laughed and walked up to Niall, getting on my tiptoe to kiss him. "Now she knows." I whispered.

"It's okay, I'm sure she won't tell." Niall tried to reassure me as I chuckled.

"Yea, like she'll keep that from Louis!"

We both laughed and shook our heads and I finally went back to grab his cap on the counter before we walked back to the table. It was useless to pretend we weren't together or anything. At that point, I knew we were fucked and that everyone probably knew about us.

"Finally!" Louis said when he saw us before pushing shots closer to us. He waited until everyone had one and he moved it up over his head to make a toast. "To Neil and Olivia, who literally can't keep their pants on when they're around each other!"

Everyone laughed and I kicked him under the table. It only resulted in him laughing and smirking at me but we all drank and I turned to Niall who was smiling fondly at me. Fuck it, why should I care if my friends knew?

---

"I want to write a song about that." Niall said as we walked in his house.

I let my purse fall on the floor and walked slowly to the bathroom to take off my make up. "Write a song about what?"

He walked up to me and leaned against the door frame, just looking at me as I washed my face and it reminded me of that time I was too sick to do it myself and he had done it for me. It made something stir in my stomach and I sent him a fond smile in the mirror.

"A song about sex with you." he explained, pushing his hands in his pockets as I chuckled.

"Make it more general, maybe? And don't use my name!"

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Do you know me at all?"

I grabbed my phone to check the time and it's only when I saw the date that I frowned. Today was april 7th (now 8th), and I was sure I had something planned on the 6th. When I remembered, I felt my heart jump in my throat and held myself against the counter.

"Liv, hey, are you okay?"

Niall was close to me, I could feel the heath of his body against mine and his hand on my back and I swallowed hard before moving my body back up and turning to him, blinking a few times as he frowned. Could I really tell him that? Would I have the guts to say it out loud?

"Niall, I'm late."

He frowned for a second and then he understood. His lips parted and an expression appeared on his face. It looked like fear.

"It's... it's stress, right? You're on birth control?" he seemed panicked and I swallowed hard, feeling suddenly extremely guilty.

"Yea but those pills aren't a hundred percent safe." I pointed out, shaking my head before my traits softened. "No it's probably just stress, I've been working a lot and not sleeping much..."

He nodded and searched for his phone in his pocket before dialing a number quickly. I frowned and walked closer to him, wanting to ask him who he was calling but I didn't dare. He turned to me and showed me his forefinger, telling me to give him a minute and he left. I leaned against the counter again, head down between my shoulders, and felt myself tear up. I had been through so many things recently and I was exhausted. Adding a pregnancy to my life was not a good thing at the moment and I was also scared it would break something between Niall and I, and I was not ready to lose him.

He came back and wrapped his arms around me, leaning his chin on my shoulder. I looked at his reflection in the mirror and he sent me a loving smile that I sent back.

"I called the drug store. They're sending us a few tests. We'll be fixed tonight."

I felt relieved but also nervous and when the doorbell rang, we argued on who was going to answer. He won and I waited for him to come back, sitting on the couch and shaking my leg. He sat next to me and took a box out, handling it to me. I just stared at it for a few seconds until he pushed the side of his upper body gently against mine.

"Petal, it's okay. If you're pregnant, we'll adjust."

"It's gonna ruin what we have." I let out in a whisper.

In half a second, he was kneeling in front of me, searching for my eyes and when our gazes met, he raised his eyebrows.

"Nothing will ruin what we have anymore. Nothing. I won't let anything bring us apart. I want to be with you, Olivia. Okay, kids weren't planned before a few years but if you're pregnant, like I said, we'll make the best of it." he paused and sighed, noticing I was still nervous and he licked his lips. "Do you love me?"

"More than anything in the world. More than anyone I ever loved, or will ever love. You know it." I admitted, feeling my voice break slightly.

"I love you too. I'm in love with you." he stopped talking and handed me the box. "You can do this."

I was shaking when I got out of the bathroom and quickly put the stick in his hands. I was near tears, and I had been for about an hour, but I was not really sure why. His words should have made me feel better and they did, but somehow, I still felt extremely vulnerable and fragile and I was not sure why.

"Please, look at it for me, I can't do this."

I turned around, my back now facing him, and let a few tears fall before wiping them quickly. It felt like an other hour had passed and I finally turned around and sighed.

"So? Niall? Is it positive?"

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #my fanfics #yam #sorry it took me so long to update

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anime-alyssa · 5 years ago

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baby girl (max lord x reader)

hey hey guess who’s a max lord fucker??

smut below cut. buy me a ko-fi if you can spare it - pls i ran out of money i dont get paid for another week

also on ao3.

He worked so hard, day in and day out he was working nonstop. There were many nights when you would go to bed alone and wake up alone, the only sign of him being around the crumpled up sheets in the bed next to you, the faint smell of his cologne lingering in the air of the bedroom. The closet would be askew and clothes would be out of place in his wake after getting dressed that morning. His breakfast plate would be in the sink, half a pot of coffee still left just for you. These were all signs that he had actually made it home to you even though you didn’t see him.

That was becoming your norm. You’d get up after him, clean up what he left after you got yourself ready in the prettiest of designer outfits Max bought for you. Designer dresses, shirts, skirts, jumpers, rompers, shoes, bags, and sunglasses. Gucci, Hermes, Louis, you had it all from Max. If you saw it in a store or in a catalog and you looked at it or mentioned that you liked it, it was on your doorstep the next day. You dripped in diamonds every day - the finest of cuts and the largest of rocks. You slept on silk sheets every night, the finest of colors. He bought you anything you wanted and made your life look picture perfect - made you look like the epitome of happiness. And for the most part, you were.

But you wanted to see him more. And he knew that. So, today he promised he would work from home and that at around 7:00 pm, he would spend the rest of his night with you. Making up for lost time. You went out and got yourself a special little black bra, put it on under the white semi-see-through sundress you wore today and decided to opt out of anything down under, thankful that the skirt of the dress was not see through but did have a slit up the side that went up to your hip. Anyone can see it through the dress up top, so you weren’t planning on leaving the house today.

Max would get jealous; he didn’t like it when other people looked at you when you dressed sexy. He said it was for his eyes only - that only he got to see you dripping in the laces and silks that he bought for you, all the diamonds and the pearls to go with it. You had no problem accepting these gifts - at first you did, insisting you could work for your own. But he was very insistent, said you deserved to be showered with all the luxury that money could buy.

He was insistent on locking you down as his, dating you for a total of 2 months before marrying you. It was the wedding of your dreams, a custom Versace gown that you designed in the loviest, most lavish villa Max found in the French countryside. It was perfect. You built your home from the ground up, letting you take the reins on the designing and just singing the check at the end of it all. Truly, you were given whatever you wanted from Max Lord.

Fluffing your hair in the mirror, you sighed as you finished applying your bright red lipstick to complete your look. It was just about lunch time, he would be coming out soon to eat. You hoped. Your diamond earrings glistened in the light as you tightened the cloth belt around your waist, cinching your dress tighter to your body. The material flowed around you as you walked away, light and airy as your bare feet padded on the marble flooring.

Approaching the office you noticed the door was open, and the room was silent. Was he even in there? Usually he was on the phone with at least someone, yelling about something that you didn’t know nor ask about. You glanced in as you were walking by and saw him sitting at his desk, hunched over some paperwork busy. Deciding to not bother him you walked by him -

“Come back here.” he called for you just as you passed by the last opened double door. You turned on your heel, walking into the doorway. He had just been looking down - but he didn’t miss you walking by. His eyes roamed over you as you approached his desk, soaking in your appearance, memorizing it. Rounding the side of his desk, going behind it to stand next to him, his gaze followed you.

“Yes?” you asked, innocence dripping off your tongue as you spoke. Max gave you a smirk as his hands planted themselves on your hips, dragging you closer to him. He let one hand roam free, trailing it up your ribcage, thumb sliding over your breast as he hit it, leaving it there.

“Stunning, baby girl.” he said, nestling his head into your hair, breathing in your scent as he held you close. You could hear his staggered breathing on your ear and decided to take one of your hands, laying it flat on his chest. He dressed ‘down’ today, opting for just a dress shirt and a pair of dress pants. He still looked his normal self, hair slicked back and put together to perfection. Presentable as a boss, even though the only one seeing him would be you.

“Just for you.” you said back to him with a smile. He hummed in response, lips drifting over your cheek as his thumb started circling your breast again over your dress. “Brand new.” you breathed out, feeling your body start to slowly heat up.

“I thought I was the one who did the spoiling here?” he said lowly, pulling his face out of your hair to look back at you. You recognized that look in his eyes - one you hadn’t seem in weeks. Lust. He wanted you, making you blush seeing that your little see-through trick worked.

“Even you need a surprise, sometimes.” you said to him, pressing a kiss against his lips.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world, baby girl. Buying beautiful lace just for me…” Max leaned you back against his desk, back flat against all his papers and wrapped your legs around his waist, leaning over your body as he brought his lips down to your throat, kissing up it and finally reaching your lips. “I think I’m hungry for lunch…” he said against your lips, causing you to moan and your cunt to clench in between your legs.

With that one of his hands traveled to your exposed thigh from the slit of your dress, traveling inward to your thigh, breath catching when he realized you were bare under the dress. He said nothing but let out a soft grunt as he quickly flung your legs over his shoulders, moving your dress out of his way as his mouth found your heat. Moaning as you felt his breath along your core, you grabbed onto the fabric of your dress as he placed kissed just above your nub on the skin around it, teasing you.

In a split second he decided to forego the teasing and sank his tongue into your dripping pussy. You cried out, his tongue working fast on your cunt, eating you up for his lunch as his fingers started to come into play and started to pump into you. Moaning again your body started to feel like flames were burning against your skin, sweat forming on your body as he ate you out on his desk. He made quick work of you, fingers furiously pounding into you and mouth sucking on your nub enough to make you scream out his name as you came around him. Your body trembled and you arched against the desk, thighs tightening around his head that kept going down on you, dragging every last inch of your orgasm out of you and lapping up every ounce of your juices that came out of you.

Eventually he pulled away from you, licking his fingers clean and wiping his mouth off with lips tongue. Max helped you sit back up again, coming face to face with you and planting a tender kiss onto your lips.

“Delicious, my love.” he said to you tenderly, pushing your hair out of your face as he kissed you again. “I’ll be done in a few hours. We’ll go to dinner and then come back when I’m done.” he said to you. Nodding, he kissed you again as he walked you to the door of his office, giving you one last peck before shutting the door. You walked back to the master, going into the bathroom to clean yourself up and figure out what to do until after dinner.

——

True to his word, Max only worked until about 5 and then took you out to dinner. Rooftop reservations, private look of the city lit up and your favorite wine, as much as you wanted. He was a pull out all the stops kind of guy and tonight, it showed. The food was delicious, the view was incredible, and the time with your husband was unmatched. He drove you both there and back in his Porsche convertible, and the moment you were back in the privacy of your home, the intimate space of your bedroom, he was all over you.

Max’s hands were sliding up your ribcage again, pulling you flesh to him. Snaking your arms around his neck, you brought his lips to meet yours, causing him to grunt when his erection bumped into your thigh. Smirking on his lips, one of your hands travelled down to his waist, unclasping his belt and undoing his pants. He took the liberty of taking his cock out of his pants, your hand gently grabbing it after it was freed. A dark look took over his face, lust back in his eyes as one his hands cupped your cheek.

“Go down and suck Daddy’s cock, baby girl.” he said to you. You nodded as you sank to your knees slowly, not breaking eye contact with him until you were level with his cock. Still having him in your hand, you placed the tip into your mouth, precum dripping out of it and drifting your tongue over it. Max let out a grunt above you, hand tangling into your hair as you started to bob on his cock, taking as much of him in as you could with every movement. “Y-yes, that’s it, baby girl. Fuck - suck Daddy’s cock…” he moaned.

His hips started to buck after a few minutes, eager to get himself off. You let him start to slowly fuck into your mouth and before you knew it he was holding you steady as he fucked into your mouth. Curses were dripping from his mouth and he was almost going in too deep and hitting your gag reflex, but he never did. One of your hands steadied itself on your thigh as the other went and gently started fondling at his balls.

“Fuck - keep doing that - baby girl, I’m gonna - shit -” Max scrambled, moaning your name as he came, spitting ropes down the back of your throat as your tongue swirled his tip, hand squeezing at his tightened balls as his high overtook his body, trembling as his back hit the post of your bed, dragging you with him still on his cock. He panted above you as you popped off him, standing in front of him as he regained his composure.

Your hands went to your dress. You had changed from earlier into something different - a red, flowy sleeveless dress, made out of the same material from earlier, but less see through which allowed you to completely go commando underneath. Slowly you discarded it, revealing your nakedness to him, the cool air hitting you all at once. You heard Max let slip ‘fuck’ under his breath as you stepped out of your shoes next, glancing to see his cock getting hard again at the sight of you naked in front of him.

Max’s mind caught up to his dick, and he threw himself on you yet again, mouth immediately taking one of your nipples into it as you tried to get your hands on his shirt, fumbling with the buttons until eventually it was off. He shrugged the shirt off quickly, putting his hands on your breasts as his mouth moved to your neck. You continued to try and remove his clothes, yanking his pants off his body. He stepped out of them as he picked you up and threw you back down onto the mattress, cock rubbing against your entrance as he adjusted his positioning above you.

“What do you want Daddy to do to you, baby girl?” he rumbled in your ear, voice sending shivers down your spine as his cock teased your dripping folds, a low moan coming out of his mouth.

“Fuck me, Daddy - please.” you pleaded him, feeling a heat in between your legs that only he could extinguish. He smirked as he turned you around, stomach now on the bed as he brought your hips up to meet his. Without any warning after that, he thrust into you, making you cry out his name.

He moaned at first contact, the tightness of your cunt against him erotic. With every thrust he sunk into you more and more until he was inside of you completely, filling you to the brim. Once he was there, there was no holding back - he began to destroy you from behind, pounding into you at a pace he’s never thrusted before.

“Pussy so fucking tight for Daddy, baby. Best pussy a man could ask for - fuck.” he moaned out behind you, grabbing your hair and yanking your head back to be in control of you. You cried out as his grip on your hip tightened, only leaving you to give a hard smack on your ass, making you clench up at the sensation.

“F-f-fuck - more Daddy - harder-r…” you spilled out of your mouth, causing him to groan as he picked up his pace, cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust, heat beginning to encompass your body again as an orgasm threatened to take over all too soon. He gave your ass another smack, cunt clenching around his cock again as your body began to tremble. Pleased with the reaction he smacked you again, again and again until you were a crying mess below him, moaning loud enough to satisfy him and trembling enough where he was satisfied, cock beginning to twitch inside of you as he neared a release.

“Make that pussy cream on my cock, baby. Come on - fuck - I’m gonna - gonna come soon.” he moaned to you, bringing your body up to meet his a little bit so he could started tugging on your breasts and playing with your nipples, trying to stimulate you extra towards your release. You cried as you felt it creeping up on you, your body shaking and sweating against Max in preparation to be sent over. He pounded into you harder, balls hitting the back of your ass as he dragged you against his hips, hitting you deeper than ever before. He brought one hand back up to your ass. “Come for daddy.” he demanded, slapping your ass again.

“M-more Max - fuck!” you cried, as he swatted you one last time to send you over, screaming and crying his name as your cunt clenched around his cock still pounding into you, hand still swatting at your ass making sounds spill out of your mouth that were euphoric. “M-m-max, fuck, don’t s-s-to - ugh!” you tried to form sentences but your orgasm was taking over you completely, body shaking as he held you up, fucking into you trying to chase his own high.

“Gon-gonna come - fuck baby girl…” he moaned as you felt his cock twitch inside of you, cunt still convulsing around him as he spilled his seed in you, high taking over his body as he fought to keep you both up. His fingers found their way to your nub, fucking your nub to keep you screaming, cunt beginning cream around him and drip onto the sheets below as his mouth found your neck, beginning to suck on the skin as he moaned, riding out his high as he kept bucking his hips into you.

You both rode out your highs together for a while before he slid out of you, a mixture of both your cum spilling out of you as he flopped next to you on the bed. You were still panting, legs sore, cunt sore, when he pulled you under the sheets. He got up and walked away, heading into the bathroom. You heard the water running and he came back out, wet wash cloth in hand to clean you up. He left it on the table next to him as he crawled under the sheets with you, draping his arm around your stomach.

“I think I’m going to work from home more often.” he said to you, hand tracing lines over your cheekbone. You hummed in response, looking at him and searching his eyes. He was serious - he was looking at you with a softness that you hadn’t seen in a while. Maybe since your wedding day half a year ago? You were unsure the last time you had seen him grow soft for you.

“I’d like that.” you said to him quietly.

“And back to going out on Friday nights. Like we used to. I’m sorry I haven’t been here. We’ll change that.” he said, crawling on top of you slowly to kiss you before laying back down, bringing your back into his chest. “I love you, baby girl.”

#myshit #max lord x reader #maxwell lord x reader

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