#u ever wanna just press ur cheek against this guy's eye and absorb him into ur body? no? um. /sweats nervously/ me too haha...

[lunarmoves]

"what." moon's voice is a low drone somewhere beneath you, vaguely amused. "are you doing?"

"nothing," you respond, a hint of a laugh in your voice as you press your cheek harder against him. you'd just gotten out of the shower, and the coolness of his smile is a stark relief against the warmth of your face.

"this is not nothing," comes his flat reply, and you feel the way his face tilts slightly. your head moves with the motion. slim, metal fingers come up to grab at your hips, pressing into the softness of your flesh. you can feel the way they flex slightly against you and have to suppress a snicker.

"i don't know what you're talking about," you say, arms wrapping tighter around his slim shoulders. you are precariously perched atop him, knees keeping you upright from where they are positioned on either side of his thighs. your chests are nearly pressed together, a breath of space between them.

he huffs. "your hair. is in my mouth."

"no it's not." you huff back and only press your face even harder against his static smile. "you can't even open your mouth."

"says who."

"says me." your voice is slightly muffled, yet his rings clear even with you splayed over him. echoing slightly in the moonlit space of your living room.

"will bite you one day," he retorts, and you can feel the way he sinks back into the armrest of the couch you're both on. it makes your own body lean deeper into his own, causes you to eventually sit atop his slim abdomen.

"will bite you one day," you mimic his voice, then decide his smile is not cool enough anymore to bring you relief. you pick your head up slightly and move upwards before resting your cheek back down on his faceplate. better.

"ow," moon immediately says without emotion. you bite at the inside of your lip to hold in a laugh. "my eye. ow."

"oh stop being such a baby," you say, squinting your eyes down at him—or what you can see of his face, anyways, with how close you are to him. "you can't feel pain in your eye."

"ow," he only repeats. "can't see. big head."

"you're the one with a big head."

moon makes an indignant sound. "unbelievable. first you obstruct my mouth. then my eye. now you say i have a big head? unforgivable."

"you'll survive," you giggle out, and moon only grumbles incoherently in a manner that you know is lighthearted. he gives your hips another gentle squeeze.

a silence—comfortable, relaxed—elapses between the two of you. it's fitting, with the late hour. you are growing ever more tired with each minute that ticks by, soothed by the quiet whirring you can hear coming from moon's internal fans. the way his face presses reassuringly back into your own. the warmth of his palms. a content sigh escapes your lips.

"do you think," you eventually murmur sleepily, dancing between consciousness and unconsciousness, "if i press you close enough, i could absorb you into my body?"

moon snorts and you smile with the absurdity of saying that question out loud. and yet, he indulges you.

"not doing it right," he tells you in a quiet voice, no louder than the ticking of the clock you can hear in the distance. you make a questioning sound. "here. like this."

and before you know what's happening, you feel your entire world flip.

your back comes into contact with the cushions of the couch, your eyes snapping open from where they'd been half-lidded. you are pressed into something soft yet firm, held tightly within sturdy arms that wrap firmly around your back. your legs automatically hook around his waist, ankles crossing.

you grin up at moon, the way he has pressed his face against yours—except, it's a little strange, with your nose poking up between the two of you. there's barely any contact between your faces apart from the tip of your nose and your forehead that he tilts his faceplate forward to meet with his own. it's silly, but you do not find yourself minding. ruby light washes over your cheeks from his optics, warm and all-encompassing.

like this, moon's lithe body covers your own completely, your arms dangling over his shoulders as he gives you a gentle squeeze. "see? now i can absorb you."

"yeah," you breathe softly into the minute space between your face and his, a grin mirrored back at you. you give him a gentle squeeze back. "just like this."

[sadesluvr]

Hi!

Idk if ur doing requests and if not just ignore this however if u r I have an idea for Lillard! William Afton.

Choking perhaps? It's fine if ur uncomfortable with that and u don't wanna do it I'd completely understand.

If u don't want to just ignore this.

Hope u have a great day!

A/N: Hi Anon, thank you for being so respectful of my boundaries regarding what I write!! <3 Even though I’ve never written about it before, I’m fine with it - This is my first time so I’m not sure how good it is :) 

WARNING: This is a drabble all about choking. Bondage/BDSM elements are mentioned also. 18+ only, and read at your own discretion.

To say that William Afton had an asphyxiation kink was an understatement. He’d always prided himself on his hands; they’d created, destroyed…Even put back together again. Each unique callous told a story, a story of how he’d risen to ‘power’ and slowly, but surely drowned in his own narcissism, quite literally making himself untouchable. Like any man, he liked power, and his hands were just one way of maintaining that.

The second method was through his cables. You didn’t really know what they were - likely ones that helped jumpstart the electricity in the pizzeria, or to start the engine of his car - but he just so happened to carry them ‘everywhere’. When he was feeling particularly frisky he used them to tie you down; whether that was to the medical table at the pizzeria, or to the headboard at his house, but there had been a couple of times where he’d inadvertently secured it around your neck; the heavy material weighing on your windpipe as he fucked you. Even though that’d turned him on, nothing ever beat his hands.

Sometimes you forgot how strong he was.

It had all just started with a simple kiss - You were hunched over your desk and he’d come in, large hands running across your shoulders before he angled your neck up towards him, lips meeting yours. His grip was not yet crushing, but secure, just enough for you to remember who you belonged to.

Breathless, you parted your lips to allow his tongue to explore your mouth. He loomed over you, weight slowly coming down upon your body as his knees buckled and grip tightened on the base of your neck, pinching the skin between his thumb and index finger, humming at your tiny whimpers.

He was in one of ‘those’ moods.

Momentarily, he pulled away. There was a dark gleam in his usually bright eyes that told you everything, brows furrowed slightly in a sneer. He needn’t say much - if anything - and you instinctively pulled down your pants, your heart pounding in your chest as the clothes jumbled around your thighs and ankles in your panicked haste. He smirked, unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zipper at the sight of you being so obedient; all for him. He’d trained you so well.

In a swift motion you were up against the wall, your heaving chest pressed against his own, feeling the stark contrast between his hard cock on your thighs and the soft skin of his stomach. William - or Steve, as you’d initially known him - was a weird mixture of ‘soft’ and ‘hard’, his emotions and personality seemingly changing on a dime. As regretfully as it was, you happened to enjoy his harder, rougher parts and edges much more.

As he used one hand to line himself up at his entrance, he used the other to cup your cheek, absorbing your features in the dim lighting of the room. He chuckled at your laboured breaths as he dragged his hand down your skin, thumb brushing over your lips as he felt your hot breath on his fingertips, breath that would soon become uncontrolled and desperate - loud and wanting. He wanted to fucking destroy you.

“You drive me fucking crazy, you know that? Do you know how dangerous that is for a guy like me?”

Your eyes widened, and you managed to whisper a breathy ‘Yes’, your mouth dry from the anticipation. He thrust into you, and the stretching, yet fulfilling sensation was cancelled out by the feeling of his hands gripping your cheeks, smooshing your lips together. Slowly, this grip moved down your jaw, holding it in place as he watched your eyes switch between widening and fluttering half shut like the desperate whore you were. He snarled as he moved down to your neck, practically holding you in place against the wall as his hips collided against your own. The way he looked at you was one almost of disgust; perhaps pity, even, and it only aroused the two of you further. William was a bad man. A very bad man. He could kill you.

Then why did you moan?

His grasp on your neck was unrelenting, the large spread of his hands meaning that he was simultaneously pressing on your larynx and trachea, causing a painfully delightful winding sensation. It felt like you were being dropped from the stratosphere, except the happiness from the feeling of flight was instead from the overstimulation of the room around you - from the sound of William’s rugged grunts to the fluid, pulsing motions of his cock inside your hole, seemingly finding the deepest crevices. 

“Good girl,” he whispered. “You’re getting so much better at this…”

You smiled as he choked you, clutching onto his hand that was around your neck as your way of showing appreciation. You felt your hyoid bone press flat against his palm, and your head began to loll against the wall, chin pointed in the air in pleasure. The squeezing sensation was now beginning to take over your torso; a tingling feeling spreading from across your cheeks, to your ears and up to your eyes, tears of ecstasy pooling in your ducts. The feeling even reached your stomach; jostling and tumbling with the signal of your impending orgasm.

“Let go…” William cooed in your ear, lips attacking the nape of your neck as he rutted into you. This was the moment he always loved, the time you were in a state of limbo from the present and your dreams, black and —

White.

You saw white.

William chuckled as you came around his cock, merciful enough to let his clutch on your neck go, allowing you to catch your breath as he continued to pleasure you - but more to finish himself off - revelling in the sight of your parted, wanting lips. With all the inventions that mankind, and even he himself could have developed, his hand was his favourite instrument.

You rode off from your high, and even through your sexed haze and heavy eyelids you could make out the man in front of you. Breathless, sweaty, and most importantly, smiling. 

He was smiling.

William loved the feeling of power, and you were one of the few people who could give it to him so perfectly.

[h-styles-babes]

No Control | Chapter Eight

Summary: 

Micky Bennett: college student, loyal friend, aspiring nurse, One Direction fan, Harry Styles enthusiast. Her best friend, Trevor, wins tickets to a show in New Jersey with meet and greet passes. Micky expects a quick photo op with the boys and a great night at the concert with her best friend. What she gets a whole lot more than she bargained for.

*Please feel free to reblog and send feedback. It’s much appreciated :)*

To read previous chapters, you can go here.

*Gif is not mine.*

EIGHT

Trevor comes back to the condo just after six, bearing the gift of Thai takeout. Not knowing what Harry likes, he just picked up two orders of curry and two orders of chicken pad thai for us all to share. Harry gets excited over the curry like a kid in a candy shop, claiming it’s his favourite, which is just as well. We sit around the dining table with the TV on in the background, Trevor telling us about his day.

“You didn’t sleep with him?” I ask in slight shock. Not that Trevor is a slag or anything, but he’s only ever had hookups with this Chris guy and has never shown interest in it being anything but sex.

“No. We went to Times Square and window shopped, which turned into me actually shopping. And we went to lunch and actually talked and had a good time. Then we went to Central Park and walked and talked more. I found out that he’s actually really funny and he’s a pretty good guy.” Trev seems a little surprised by the turn of events of his afternoon, too, which is pretty funny to watch.

“All the times you hooked up with this guy, and you never had a real conversation with him?” Harry asks, a little astounded. Like the notion of not at least knowing a little bit about your sexual partner is a foreign concept to him. Maybe it is. 

Trev shakes his head. “I met this guy at a frat party the second week of the school year. I thought he was straight, since he was hanging out with all his frat brothers, making lewd comments about girls there. Came onto me later that night by kissing me and pushing me into his room. It never went beyond booty calls for us. I just assumed he was closeted gay or bi.”

“You should know better than to assume, Trev,” I point out. People assume he’s straight all the time, which makes for awkward situations for the girls who try to come on to him. 

He rolls his eyes and clicks his chopsticks at me. “Yeah, yeah, I know, mother.”

“So are you gonna see him again, beyond a hookup?” Harry asks, mixing more of his curry with the white rice on his plate.

“We agreed to go out next weekend,” he admits, his cheeks tinging slightly pink. I smirk at him as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose to try to hide it. 

“Aw, Trevor has a crush!” I gush, genuinely excited. I’ve only ever seen Trevor actually interested in someone else once in our whole friendship, and the guy was very much straight. “Chris is really cute, too. Good job on that one.” I nod appreciatively at his selection. He has that typical frat boy look going, with the light brown hair, baby blue eyes, and snapbacks, but his broad shoulders, pretty smile, and constant scruff more than make up for it.

“Thank you, thank you.” He pretends to take a bow at the table.

Harry’s phone rings from his jeans pocket, interrupting our conversation. He sighs when he sees the name, but promptly answers it. He’s mostly quiet during the call, except for the occasional affirmation or hum. When he hangs up he sighs again.

“That was Paul. Lads wanna go out tonight.”

“And you don’t want to go with them?” I ask, slightly surprised. Harry seems like the type of guy that likes to take opportunities as they’re presented. A night out in NYC or even Jersey seems like something a twenty-one year old guy would jump at. Though, Harry isn’t a normal twenty-one year old guy.

“It’s not that. They’re all going out, so that means Paul needs to be there, which means I have to go.” He takes the last few bites of his food before moving to take it into the kitchen.

“Leave it, I’ve got it,” I assure, placing a hand on his arm to stop him. I’m sad that he’s got to go, considering how amazing the day has been. I’m also not sure that I’ll ever actually see him again, considering the two different worlds we come from. It’s bitter sweet, having had such an amazing day with this man who was little more than fantasy in my head for years. He’s so much more than I could ever had imagined, and I’m so hesitant to give that up. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out.”

Harry grabs onto my hand and presses a sweet kiss to my knuckles, lingering there for a few moments before letting me pull him up with me. 

“It was good meeting you, Trevor,” he says, flashing my friend a smile. “I hope your date with Chris goes well.”

Trevor grins and nods. “It was nice meeting you too, Styles. And thanks. I’ll Tweet at you  and let you know how it goes.” He winks at Harry, which makes me giggle.

Harry chuckles and nods. “I’m looking forward to it. On the edge of my seat.”

“Later, loser,” Trevor calls as I pull Harry out the door. Harry chuckles as he wraps his hands around my hips, pulling me to his chest. 

“I like him,” Harry nods decisively.

“Me, too. That’s why I’ve kept him around so long. Plus, he’s loaded. Who doesn’t want a rich best friend?” I say sarcastically.

Harry’s smile is wide before it softens as he looks over my face. “I’m gonna try to make it back out here tomorrow. We don’t leave for Ohio until the day after. You’ll be around?”

I nod. “I’ll be here,” I assure.

Harry reaches into his back pocket and hands me his phone. “Give me your number so I can get ahold of you.”

I bite my lip and put my number in his contacts list. When I look up to hand it back, Harry’s hand is out in front of me, palm up, one of his rings in the center. It’s black and silver in a braided pattern.

“Yes, Harry?” I ask.

“Just in case I don’t see you again while I’m in America. I want you to have something to remember me by.” He seems a little shy, a light pink tinge spreading across his cheeks. 

“Harry, I could never forget you. Besides the whole ‘A list celebrity’ thing, you’re a pretty unforgettable person.”

He bites his bottom lip as he grabs my left hand and slips the ring onto my thumb, the only one of my fingers that it’ll fit. It’s still warm from his skin.

“Still, I want you to have it.” I hear his phone ding in my hand, and we both look down to see there’s a new text from Paul, most likely urging Harry to get back to the car. Harry takes it from me and puts it back in his pocket. “I will try my best to be here tomorrow.”

He reaches up and cradles my head in his hands, his thumbs softly stroking the apples of my cheeks. I wrap my hands around his wrists just to feel his skin on mine. Harry leans in and very tenderly presses our lips together in a slow kiss. I can taste the spice of the curry on his lips, but there’s also his natural taste lingering underneath. It’s intoxicating in the best way possible, making my lips tingle and my heart rate to accelerate. 

When he pulls back, I feel his breath puff against my face. I open my eyes to him licking his lips.

“I have to go,” he whispers. He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear.

I rub my lips together and nod. “I know. Have a good night with the others.” 

He smirks and shakes his head. “I’ll text you. I still have more to learn about you.”

True to his word, only half an hour after I watch him walk out of the building, my phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number.

Lads want to go clubbing. Don’t make me go!! Don’t pretend you’re not going to love it. Go get pissed and dance with pretty girls. But ur not with me. Ur the only pretty girl I wanna dance with. Ur full of it, Styles. Actually, I think u were full of it earlier ;) I was…I already miss u inside me :( Fuck, don’t do this right now. Don’t make me hard in public, pet. U started it! Well, now I’m ending it. No dirty talk tonight. But I thought daddy liked dirty talk. Micky… Yes, sir? Don’t make daddy have to tell you again. I’m sorry, daddy.

There’s a lull in the conversation like there hadn’t been before. I figure that he’s probably getting to a club and chatting with his bandmates, so I shrug and set my phone on the armrest beside me. Trevor and I are watching an episode of Jeopardy on the couch, so I pay a little more attention to the game. It’s the beginning of Final Jeopardy when I get a text back.

Ooh, ‘daddy’, eh? Never realized H was so kinky.

My heart seizes a little at the message, realizing one of his bandmates got ahold of his phone. I don’t know how much the other boys know about Harry’s sex life, but they just learned a whole lot more about it, now. From what little I know about them, I know this information isn’t going to be kept to just whoever is texting me from Harry’s phone.

Oh dear. Who is this? Niall. Who is this? The name Micky is familiar. Wait…ur the bird from m&g yesterday. Oh shit. H scored last night. Holy shit. H GOT LAID THERE’S A GOD JESUS Niall, give the phone back to H pls. He’s in the loo. And we’re not done here. How old are u? I remember you being fit. Lads teased H about it after you left. Um…i don’t think i should answer anything w/o H. But, thank you, i think? C’mon, love. H would tell us anyway. Us?? I thought i was talking to Niall. Tommo and Li are reading over me shoulder. You 3 are the worst. TELL US! -Tommo Please -Liam I’m 21. Nearly 22 Oh thank god. -Liam Did you fuck him? -Tommo Ignore Louis -Niall

The messages stop for a moment, and I’m left staring at my phone screen in a sort of horror. Trev’s too absorbed in the episode of Wheel of Fortune now playing on the telly to notice my dilemma. My phone buzzes again, and I expect more slightly inappropriate text from Harry’s bandmates, but it’s ringing an incoming call from Harry instead.

I answer and walk down the hall to my bedroom. 

“Harry?” I answer, wanting to make sure I’m talking to the owner of the phone instead of his probably drunk and nosey mates. 

“Hiiii,” he draws out. I can hear music in the background. “I’m sorry about them. They were pre-gaming before I even left yours.”

“I’m sorry they saw our messages,” I laugh. “Hope you don’t mind them knowing you have a daddy kink.”

He groans, and I can just imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose. “I mean, it probably would have come out eventually. I’m just gonna get mocked about it for a few weeks.”

I grimace. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Shouldn’t have left my phone on the table unattended.” I can hear other voices, yelling to be heard over the loud music, then Harry’s deep sigh. “And it’s begun. It’s only gonna get worse the more drunk they get. Especially Liam. Can’t handle his drink yet.”

“Maybe just get drunk so you won’t remember any of this in the morning,” I suggest jokingly.

“Be expecting some naughty texts around midnight, then. I’m a flirty drunk.”

“You’re always a flirt, Styles.”

“True. But now that I’ve had you, I can be more explicit. Have a good night, princess.”

“Goodnight, daddy.”

I fall asleep by eleven that night, despite my nap, having not had a whole lot of sleep the night before and a long day. I vaguely hear my phone buzzing on my bedside table at some point long after I’ve fallen asleep, but I’m too tired to check it. I have a pretty good feeling it’s Harry, but the messages will still be there in the morning.

I never get a chance to read them, however, because I’m woken by the buzzing of the intercom, someone requesting to be let up into the building. I check the clock with bleary eyes and see that it’s only nine in the morning. My first thought is maybe that Trevor forgot a key, or his mum is back from her trip and forgot a key. So, I quickly throw on the first shirt my fingers touch on my floor and trudge into the living area. The buzzer is still going incessantly when I reach it. I press the button to speak into the intercom.

“Trevor, I swear to God, if you forgot your key again, I’m just gonna leave your ass out there. This is the third time this month. And it’s only the tenth.”

“Not Trevor,” the voice comes back, crackly over the shoddy speaker. “But I come bearing breakfast and coffee and a day planned of sightseeing, so if you could be so kind to let me in anyway.”

“Harry?” I question. Last I had heard from him, he wasn’t sure if he was gonna be able to come into NYC today.

“Yeah, love. Let me up, I’m attracting a crowd. It’s like an episode of The Walking Dead out here.” There’s an urgency in his voice that I’ve only heard just now, so I quickly buzz him in, hoping he gets in without letting a crazy fan into the building. I unlock the door to the condo and wait for the knock on the door. I open in quickly to Harry, a drink carrier in one hand and a bag of delicious smelling food in the other.

“Jesus, Harry. You could’ve called or something,” I tell him, pulling him inside. He sets the food down on the counter and turns to pull me into a hug.

“I did, love. And sent texts.”

I look up at him and grimace. “I haven’t checked my phone. And I sleep like the dead.”

He chuckles, “I’ve realized. It’s alright, just telling you I wiggled my way into coming here today. There were conditions, though.” This time he grimaces.

I raise an eyebrow. “What conditions?”

There’s another knock at my door just as soon as the words are out of my mouth. Harry gives me a smile that says, ‘Please still love me after this.’ I glare at him suspiciously as I turn to open the door again.

“Ah, the famous Micky,” an Irish voice greets. And the voice definitely doesn’t belong to Paul. 

Liam, Niall and Louis stand in the doorway, each with different smiles adorning their faces. Liam’s is a genuine smile, though he looks a little worse for wear. Probably drank too much the night before. Louis is giving me that cheeky closed mouth grin that alerts me that he has something to say, but he’s trying his best to keep it in. And Niall looks absolutely giddy, eyeing me up and down in appraisal.

“Security said we had to all go out today. Publicity something or other,” Harry supplies as an explanation for why the entirety of One Direction is now entering the condo.

“Hello, boys,” I greet as I close the door. The four of them in here makes the space look uncannily small, like even this extravagant condo in Upper Manhattan pales in comparison to these four men.

“Morning, Micky,” Niall greets enthusiastically. 

Liam mumbles a good morning with a small smile, squinting. He’s very obviously hungover, though he’s trying his best. Louis grins and wraps an arm around my shoulder in a greeting hug. 

“I brought coffee and food as a peace offering,” Harry admits, wrapping an arm around my waist. He seems to look down at me for the first time and grins. “You look good in my clothes.”

I look down at myself and realize I’m wearing the shirt he gave me yesterday in order to leave the hotel. I blush. “I wasn’t wearing a shirt when you rang. Had to throw something on real quick.”

“Who’s the third coffee for, H?” Louis asks, taking a seat at one of the barstools lined up at the counter. “Thought we were just grabbing Micky.”

“That would be for me,” Trevor says, coming down the hallway from his bedroom, only in a pair of trackies and his glasses, his hair a little bit of a mess from sleeping. He nods at Harry in greeting before picking a coffee cup out of the drink carrier. “Thanks, man.”

“Figured she’d be more forgiving if I buttered you up, too,” Harry admits.

“Good move,” Trev nods. He takes a sip of the coffee and sighs. “So damn good.” He finally looks at me. “Might want to put some pants on, girl. You’ve got four attractive men looking at your pretty legs. And your ass hangs out of the bottom.”

“I’m wearing pants!” I object, appalled he thinks I’d come out of my bedroom without them on.  

He rolls his eyes. “I meant shorts or something. Jesus. Either way, they’re all still staring at you.”

“I’m in a committed relationship, mate,” Liam interjects. “I don’t look at other women like that.”

Trevor snorts unattractively. “Yeah, and I’m totally not gay. You’re full of shit, Payne.”

Niall cackles at Trevor’s casual call out of his friend and lightly punches Liam in the arm. Liam scowls at the Irishman and rubs at his arm, looking like a put out child.

I roll my eyes and extricate myself from Harry’s grasp. “You five behave. I’ll be back in a mo’.” 

“It’s a bit warm outside,” Harry calls. “And we’ll be doing some walking.” I throw him a thumbs up over my shoulder, thankful for the heads up about what to wear. I pretty much already have an outfit picked out in my mind, but the shoe choice now has to change. 

When I get to my room, I take off my t-shirt and go to my closet to pick out the appropriate items. I find the green crop top I had in mind and head to my dresser to find the black skirt with a thing white plaid pattern. I contemplate whether I should wear a bra, but figure the hot weather and the tight material of the shirt is reason enough not to wear one. I find a pair of no-show socks to wear with the maroon Converse I plan to put on later. 

I quickly change into my clothes and go to the bathroom to run some product through my hair to tame it a bit. If it’s warm, that means it’s most likely humid, and my hair doesn’t take too kindly to the moisture. I do what I can with it and then add a minimal amount of makeup just so I don’t look like a troll while out with the boys today. I can only imagine there may be some photos taken by some fans, and god forbid I be caught in one by accident looking like I just rolled out of bed. I don’t plan on being in any of them, but people can be sneaky. 

“All set, love?” Harry asks as I reemerge. I nod and smile as I sit on a side table to slip my shoes on. The coffee he brought is really calling my name, but I go for the food first, knowing I can take the coffee with me while we walk. 

“What are you all doing today?” Trev asks, still just standing, eating his breakfast sandwich and coffee in nothing but his trousers. 

Harry is sipping on his coffee, so Louis answers. “Bit o’ sightseeing. Hoping we can get away with goin’ some bigger places. People think we’re already on the road, so no one will be looking out for us.”

“Wanna go to the MoMA,” Harry says, passing me a sandwich. I thank him with a smile.

“You’re in New York, and yeh wanna go to a damn museum?” Niall asks with a crinkle of his nose in distaste.

“I’ll go with you, Harry,” I offer. “Lads can go do something else while we go there. Probably better if you split up for a bit, anyway.”

The boys nod and Harry looks at me, his fingers pulling at his bottom lip in a sign of contemplation.

“There’s a chance there’ll be paps today,” he warns slowly, his brow furrowed. “If you don’t wanna come, you don’t have to. I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.”

I reach over and put my hand over his with a smile. “I’m okay, Harry. I’ve got thick skin. We’re only friends hanging out while you’re in NYC.”

Trevor clears his throat and I see Louis’s eyebrows raise quickly on his forehead before settling back down, that same smirk I saw during the meet and greet taking up residence on his face again. I don’t know what garnered that reaction, but I ignore it. 

Harry’s eyebrows furrow further in what I perceive as worry, but then he nods. “Right. Still, just let me know if you need to tap out and come back here.”

I smile. “I will. Now come on. There’s a lot to see in New York.”

NINE