like your floral print shirt and your hair and your tattoo like no


“So, no family in attendance this time.” Alberto opened the limousine’s back door.

There wasn’t. Louis frowned, sliding onto the backseat. It was his first film premiere without any family member there. The thought was scary, because this premiere was his most important so far.


Louis turned his head when the door was closed and saw Harry on the other side, smiling gently. His hair was tied back by a silky scarf, and he wore a maroon suit with a grey, floral print. It perfectly fit Louis’ grey suit. Lottie had even managed to pick a tie in the exact maroon colour of Harry’s suit.

“You look nice,” Harry said.

Louis swallowed thickly, clutching his hands together to keep himself from reaching out to touch Harry. His shirt was gaping open, the tattoos on his chest peeking out. Louis hadn’t had the time to properly inspect them when they had—

“Thanks,” he said, shaking the thought, the memory off. “You, too.”

The car started moving, and Harry reached out to touch Louis’ hand. His nails were painted black. “Are you nervous?”

“A little,” Louis admitted. “This one’s quite important to me.”

Harry hummed. Yeah. I get that. Hey,” he added then. Louis looked up at that, and God – he couldn’t look at Harry. He was so, so fit. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Harry looked straight into Louis’ eyes, and for a moment, every single moment of them in that hotel room came back. Every second they had shared, every touch, every kiss. Louis couldn’t stand it.

“That’s lovely, L.A., but I’m not your damsel in distress.” Louis patted Harry’s hand before he withdrew his own.

Harry snorted and leaned back in his seat. “You’re definitely not.”

“I don’t need to be pampered.” Louis cleared his throat, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of Harry’s fingers on his skin. It’d be forgotten in a moment.

“Sure not,” Harry replied, looking out of the window.

“What’s that tone?” Louis raised a brow.

Harry turned back to him, an amused expression on his face. “You love being pampered.”

“Excuse you.” Louis crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What gives you that impression?”

“Spending a whole month with you.” Harry shrugged.

Louis shook his head. “You have no idea, Styles.”

“I guess, yeah.” Harry bit his bottom lip, obviously holding back a grin. “Whoever’s gonna be your boyfriend will have to be really good at pampering you.”

“What the—”

“You’re a cuddler,” Harry interrupted him, and suddenly, he looked much more serious. “You like to cuddle.”

Louis frowned. “How do you–” He fell silent, and bit his lip. Harry knew because they had slept with each other. They had probably only exchanged handjobs and messy kisses, but it had been sex. Two rounds. And Louis had fallen asleep on Harry.

He wasn’t the kind of person that lit a cigarette after sex and left the bed. Louis was the kind of person that held onto the warmth as long as possible. He couldn’t remember, but he had probably fallen asleep and cuddled up to Harry. How would he know? Harry had been gone in the morning.

Louis cleared his throat again. “You can’t blame me for the things I do while asleep.”

“Who said I blamed you?” Harry asked.

Louis opened his mouth, but closed it again when he realised he had no idea what to say. Harry smiled at him, knowingly, and in that typical smug way of his.

“You like being pampered yourself,” Louis said, pointing at Harry. “You like it when people take care of you, and you like your hair being played with.”

“I contemplated paying someone to do that,” Harry said, no shame in his tone. “You know? Like a personal assistant, but all they do is play with my hair.”

“Oh my God.” Louis groaned.

“Yeah, that’d be a bit diva-like, so I dismissed the idea.” Harry shrugged, looking genuinely sad about it. “It would’ve fit your image of me, though, right?”

Louis laughed. “Absolutely.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Harry said.

The car stopped and Louis sat up, waiting for the door to be opened, so he could step out. Loud noises, an ocean of voices suddenly hit him and before he moved onto the red carpet, Louis turned around again.

“I’m not disappointed, at all,” he said, holding Harry’s gaze for a moment. “Not a single bit.”

The noise increased when Louis go out of the car. Flashlights hit him, and people yelled his name. Louis smiled and turned around, holding out his hand for Harry. Gracefully, Harry slid out of the backseat of the limousine and placed his hand in Louis’. The noise intensified even more.



By the time the Uber driver had pulled up to the front gate, you had forgotten which address you had given him. Tequila did that to you. The car stopped and Joe or Jim or Jack…whatever his name was, cleared his throat in an effort to gain your attention. Peeling your eyes from your phone, you looked up at his house. All the lights were off except for the outside lanterns that adorned his front entrance. No car in the driveway. Was he even home? When he texted you earlier, he had been home. You looked down at your phone…2:27am.

Shit, he was asleep. When did it get so late?

His last text was at 11:19pm “Text me when you’re on your way. I’ll put on some pants…”

Three hours…? How has it been THREE hours?! Gosh, you were a shit friend.

Tequila did that to you too, sometimes.

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anonymous asked:

Saw your reblog of Harry's shirts and I was wondering...Say his girl stole one. Which side of him do you think would win out? the "ooh she's in my clothes?" or the laughing "wow that shirt really is god awful?"

You sent it and then I got too excited and now … have at it.


“Is there a special reason as to why you’re wearing me shirt?” Harry’s voice is curious and slightly offended, a quirk to his brow and the corner of his lips.

Your eyebrows raise as you look down at your outfit: his sheer floral printed shirt knotted around your waist to make it shorter, paired with high waisted black shorts and black heeled boots. Your bralette could be seen under the opened buttons of his shirt you were wearing and you had your purse in hand. It was hot summer’s night and you two were just about to go out for dinner with friends. You had been lounging around in your towel, the heat too strong for you to put a robe on while your searched for something to wear and the flimsy piece had caught your attention, which ended up in you, clad in his clothing.

He’s looking you up and down and you feel a bit self conscious, never having worn his clothes outside the house except for a unrecognizable white t-shirt once or twice, but this one… Well, this one was undeniably his. It feels like you overstepped some invisible boundary, his silence speaking volumes as you turn on your heels, embarrassment burning in your neck and the apples of your cheek and start walking towards the bedroom.

“No, wait! Where are yeh going?” He pulls you back by the belt loops on the back of your shorts and you stumble back, your back hitting his warm solid chest.

“To change…” You mumble, trying to untangle yourself from him but Harry’s quicker and stronger, an arm wrapping around your middle and keeping you against him.

“Why would yeh?” He asks against your ear and you shiver but reign yourself in, turning your face away from his in an attempt to escape his seducing voice and minty breath that made you dizzy with want. “I didn’t say anything…”

“The look in your eyes was enough.” You quip, hand trying to pull his tattooed one away from you so you can escape this trap. “And I know you don’t like it when people use your stuff.”

People is not the same as you.” He tells you, turning your face to his and trapping your lips in a kiss. “And I think you need to work on your interpretation…” He mumble, biting in your bottom lip. “Look good in m'clothes, love.”


He’s been staring all night.

While you drove down to the restaurant, while you ate your sushi and talked with his friends, while you sipped on your virgin mojito and your hair blew on the beachy wind.

Harry had been staring at you relentlessly, as he sipped on his drink and pretended to laugh at some shit people were telling him. He’s sitting on the other side of the table, fingers fidgeting with his bottom lip, pinching and pulling, green eyes locked on you like a hunter to it’s prey. You can feel your skin prickle with goosebumps that have nothing to do with the wind and butterflies to swarm in your tummy, a low but scorching flame burning in inside of you.

“I’m tired.” He announces, voice a bit croaky from how quiet he’s been all night. He’s normally the life of all parties, but his only focus was you and you knew something would come out of it. “Shall we go home?” Harry asks you, interrupting you when you’re about to sip your drink. His question is more like a suggestion, a way of telling you that yes, you’re leaving now, whether you like it or not.

“Yeah, I’m a bit tired myself…” You grimace, lying through your teeth.

He wants you alone.

Saying your goodbyes and rushing through a crowd of fans and paparazzi, you can feel Harry’s hand warm you the small of your back and he ushers you towards the car. There’s shouts and flashes everywhere, fans begging for his attention and paparazzi teasing the both of you.

Early night for you both?

Going home for a fun night?

Is that Harry’s shirt? 

It’s a bit too much, as usual, but they’ve never had limits when it came to getting a reaction out of the both of you but specially him. Although you can see Harry’s jaw tighten and he has an angry frown on his face, he doesn’t budge. He has you inside the passenger seat of his Mercedes in a heartbeat, circling the car and jumping in himself not a second after you shut your door. He has the hood up and the windows rolled up to block the noise as much as he can and he’s maneuvering carefully and speeding forward, leaving the crowds behind.

You’re speeding towards his place and your hand is kneading at his shoulder for a few good seconds before he relaxes under your touch.

“Good?” He asks, one hand reaching for your bare thigh but keeping his on the road.

“Good.” You reassure him.

The ride home is quick, his hand never leaving your skin and he’s parking on his drive way not 20 minutes after you left the restaurant. He turns to you, taking off his seatbelt, sighing and then he’s back to his old self.

“You look good.” It’s a confession, truthful and bathed in want, and it makes your thighs tense and your core tingle.

“Do I?”

“Love it when you wear my clothes.” He nods at you and leans over the gear, planting a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Means you’re mine…”

You gulp, eyes closing and breath wavering when his teeth nip the skin of your jaw, his tongue licking at the red patch he left behind.

“Couldn’t keep m'eyes away.” Harry’s hand is on your thigh, pulling you closer so he can kiss on your neck and you turn to him, finding his lips in a heated kiss. He’s pulling you over to his lap in a heartbeat, knees astride his hips and he’s fumbling with the buttons on your shorts before you can tell him no, awkwardly pushing it down your legs until he gets them off. You’re back on him, hands lost in his hair, tongue licking into his mouth with hunger, your nails digging into his shoulders. Harry’s hands are undoing the knot of his shirt, unbuttoning what’s left and leaving it to hang in the crooks of your elbows as you move against the bulge in his pants.

B-bloody hell, been hard all night fo’ yeh.” He grunts and pulls you down against him with force, the friction of your pantie clad center against his clothed cock making you moan.

“Then take me.” It’s a beg and his response is to grip the flimsy fabric of your knickers with both hands, pulling it until it’s ripped to shreds. You wear a shocked expression, mouth open in a perfect “o” as you work on his jeans, opening the button and zipper with quick fingers before pulling it down in a hurry. His cock is hard and pre-cum is dribbling from his tip, the head as read as his bitten lips. You can feel your mouth water as you pump your hand in quick movements but he’s not having it and Harry’s pulling your hand away. One of his hands is tangled in your hair, right at the nape of your neck and the other is lining his cock up to your soaked center, his eyes hooded but glued to yours.

Want your cunt.” He whispers and you moan, hips reacting to the harshness of his words and rolling forward, the head of his cock bumping your clit making you both wince. “You’re soaked, love. Is it fo’ me?” There’s awe in his voice and he keeps gliding himself between your folds, making you whine.

“Yes, p-please… fuck me, Harry, please…” Breathy and full of begging, those words is what does him in and it’s when he lines his cock with your entrance, pushing in with barely any resistance, the hot wet heat of you enveloping him and earning a loud moan.

The windows of his car are fogged up, there’s sweat dripping down your cleavage and his shirt that’s still hanging on your body sticks to your clammy skin. You bounce on his cock, hard as a rock inside of you and the way he’s meeting your thrusts tells you he doesn’t want it to last, he just wants a good fuck in. You don’t know why this got you so worked up, but you can feel your pebbles nipples straining against the fabric of your bralette, the muscles in your stomach tensing as you feel him deep, your clit tingling and your walls pulsing around him.

“Taking me so well, baby girl…” Harry’s breathless and he’s mouthing on your neck, licking and biting with no worries about leaving marks, in fact, it seems like that’s his goal. His hands controls your pace and you whine when  his other hand leaves your hair to pull down the cups of your bra and trap your nipple between his lips, pulling and suckling on the hard nub. You shiver, pulling on his hair with no pity.

“Good, f-feel so good inside me…” The giggle that leaves your lips when he nibbles at your collarbones is short lived, melting into a moan when his skillful fingers find your clit. He’s rolling and circling, that way it makes your pussy clench around him and it makes every hair on your body stand on end, your orgasm approaching faster than you could tell. “D-does your pussy feel good? Huh?” You taunt him and his short nails dig in the skin of your thighs.

“Mine, innit? All fuckin’ mine.” He tells you, locking both his strong arms around and holding you still while he pounds up into you, erratic and punishing thrusts, his cock hitting that spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll back into your head.

He’s claiming you his as he owns his the flimsy shirt that hangs from your body and you’re cumming without any warnings, a shout of his name leaving your lips along with long and pleasure moans and incoherences. He’s right behind you, streams of his cum filling you up with all he’s got, before he stills, your spent body slacked against his chest as you shake uncontrollably.

The after shocks of your pleasure make you clench around his softening cock that’s still inside you but you don’t care. It feels too good and your limbs are useless, eyes unfocused and mind swimming. Harry’s heart is hammering on his chest, right where your ear is pressed and he’s huffing, unsteady hands playing with your hair.

It’s a long while before you both are able to speak again and he’s pulling out of you with a grunt and a wince, the sight of his cum sliding out of you and down your thighs enough to make his cock twitch in interest.

“Was that-” You start, gulping in a breath and looking down between the two of you where his fingers touch your center, his eyes shining with interest and awe, before you pull his head up, meeting his gaze with your still hazy eyes. “Was that because of the shirt?”

“I like you in my clothes.” His voice is raspy and sincere, want still very much present in his tone.

“Should wear them more often…” You note and he laughs, pulling you in for a kiss.


My First Kiss at the Public Execution - 4

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 5 - PART 6 - PART 7 - PART 8 - PART 9 - PART 10 - PART 11

a/n: finally updated! i hope you like this part, i had fun writing it

shout out to @feminamortem for looking over my grammar for me!

@beautifulramblingbrains​ @frecklefaceb @anditcametopass@dauntlessmetalmom@pathybo@mimigemrose@ag-delights@abfoster1s@sparklemichele

Warning: NSFW tho it’s just some drinking and again heavy petting lol

Eric X OFC // Divergent Trilogy

word count: 5,095

Originally posted by ladanvm

taste of honey
taste of salt
this kiss is not a poison
this kiss is not a prison

Sleep was starting to feel like a long-lost friend, I remembered it fondly but hadn’t seen it in years. I lay unblinking in bed, my brain as restless as my body. I tossed and turned unable to get comfortable as my mind flipped between the memories of kissing Rachel and kissing Eric.

As I thought of Rachel I felt a warm glow humming inside my chest slowly bleeding outwards. Like the sensation of a hot drink after being out in the cold, feeling the heat as it travels to your stomach warming you from the inside out. If Rachel is a hot drink then Eric is a cold gust of wind. I could already feel the goosebumps forming as I rolled over with a huff. I rubbed at my skin, annoyed that just the thought of Eric’s hands on me garnered a physical response. Like the first autumn breeze at the end of summer he would sweep by, sending a chill up your spine and then before you’d notice it, he was gone leaving you alone to sort out your tousled hair. Neither of them were bad sensations, they were just so different.

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Love Like Ours Won't Never Grow Old

50’s!era Florst/Tattoo shop Bog/Marianne AU

Chapter 1/??? [ao3]

Marianne Fairwood was aware that she could be intimidating, oftentimes when she did not want to be. However, this was playing to her favor when she tracked down the delivery boy for her family’s florist shop in search for her younger sister. She liked Sunny well enough, she really did. He was outgoing, charming and ernest. But he was also the impetuous Dawn Fairwood’s partner-in-crime.

And a terrible liar. 

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