Larry Stylinson One-Shots

Bedtime

“My goodness, Haz, you will not believe how many people decided to go to Tesco today. All I wanted was some sugar, and I had to practically fight off this one woman-“ I stop myself in the middle of recalling my fascinating supermarket endeavor when I realize that my boyfriend was not listening to me, but completely passed out on the bed. Still clad in his ridiculously glamourous grandma blouse straight out of the eighties (which he still managed to look amazing in) and extremely tight black jeans, he lays on the bed looking like the worn-out angel he is.

I can’t stop myself from grinning at the precious sight. I drop my football-bag on the ground and step over to the bed, sinking down onto the mattress and laying across from him. Harry is an incredibly heavy sleeper so he doesn’t even budge when I place my hand on his cheek and brush my thumb against his soft skin.

Harry’s enticing blue-sometimes-but-mostly-green eyes are closed, his eyelashes not quite reaching the top of his cheeks. His plump, dark pink lips are parted slightly as small breathes escape and I’m surprised he isn’t snoring. I push away the long strands of curls from his forehead and behind his ear. How is it possible for someone to be so beautifully, perfectly perfect?

I force myself to get up and take a shower, seeing as though I smell like I’ve been bathing in sweat for weeks and need to bath in actual water. I strip down once I enter the toilet, shower, get out, spew a string of cuss words to the hairdryer that won’t work, and then give up and decide to let it air-dry.

Harry’s still sound asleep when I come back. After I tug one of his t-shirts that are a bit big on me and some boxers, I slip back into bed beside him yet again. I go to wrap my arms around his waist and drift off to sleep as well, but I start to feel bad that he’s still completely dressed. Harry tends to like to wear as little clothing as possible at all times, so maybe he’s subconsciously uncomfortable.

I also don’t mind seeing his bare chest, but that has nothing to do with the situation, of course.

I reach up and begin gingerly undoing the buttons of his top until they’re all undone (there was only, like, four, because he only begins buttoning his shirt half-way down it) and then I slide the sleeve off of one arm. He’s laying on his side, so now I’m trying to somehow pull it out from underneath him.

Growing impatient, I just shove him on his back and tug his shirt the rest of the way off. His face contorts, seemingly stirring from his slumber that I have clearly disturbed. I shush him and toss the shirt to the floor, moving on to his trousers. I unbuckle this belt, unzipping the jeans then beginning the task of actually trying to get those horrendously tight things off his skinny legs.

I hear a groan leave the back of Harry’s throat as I finally get his trousers down his actual legs and pull them off his ankles, dropping them to the ground and leaving him in nothing but boxers. Just the way I like it.

“Lou?”

I sigh, “Hey, babe,”

He clears his throat and leans up, propping himself up on his elbows. He stares at me with furrowed eyebrows and a lazy smile.

“You alright?” He asks, his voice barely audible due to the raspy, gravely, sexiness of it. I nod, climbing up the bed to lay beside him. He shifts to face me, his tattooed and admittedly muscular arm immediately finding my waist and tugging me into his body. I smile up at him.

“I didn’t mean to wake you up, sorry,”

He shakes his head. “I’m glad you did.”

My heart flutters when he presses his lips against mine. I curl my toes, leaning into the kiss. When we pull away he sort of drops his head back against the pillow. “How was your day?”

“Go back to sleep, Love. You’re exhausted,” I order, tugging the covers over us then placing a hand on his chest, subconsciously tracing his tattoos.

“But I want to talk to you,”

“I’m yours all day tomorrow. Get some sleep,”

Harry sticks his bottom lip out, pouting like an eight year-old. “I’m sorry I’m so tired.”

I just smile and kiss his lip-pout. “You’re such an inconsiderate asshole for being fatigued.”

He hums and shuts his eyes again, “You deserve better.”

“Goodnight, Babe.”

“Night, Lou. I love you.”

I stare up at his gorgeous face, whispering softly. “I love you, too.”

Sometimes I want to strangle him, and other times he’s the dumbest person in the world; but I love Harry. I'd never admit it to anyone but him, but I'm so lucky to have him.

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a/n: howdy bros. i havent posted one of these in 5eva so heres a short little cute louis being cute thingy for you. its more of an imagine than a one shot but oh well ily guys