twitter boy • larry stylinson

{111} fool

Louis

"Harry, there are pap pics of us everywhere," I sigh, making the brown haired man look up from where he sits scribbling on a piece of paper.

"Hm?"

"Paparazzi, Harry!" I repeat, shoving my phone into his hands.
Displayed on the screen are multiple shots of us from different perspectives, apperently shot when we stepped out of his car and went into the music studio.

Harry looks at them, gaze blank as he clicks picture after picture. He then lets out a long sigh, giving me back the iPhone I got from him a couple weeks ago.

"I'm sorry about them, but there's really nothing I can do. I get papped everywhere I go, so the people that are with me of course get their pictures taken, too. I should've warned you, sorry" he mumbles, giving me a pained smile.

Immediately, I shake my head, abandoning the phone in favor of climbing into Harry's lap. There is no one but us in the room right now, anyway, so.

"'S not your fault, Hazza," I whisper, twirling my fingers in the strands of his thick hair falling loosely over his shoulders.
I feel strong hands gripping my waist, warm fingers carefully slipping under my shirt to rub circles into my skin.

"I like it when you call me Hazza," he whispers back, exposing his dimples when he finally gives me a sincere smile.

"'S your nickname, isn't it? Think I saw some of your fans having a username with it on twitter."

He hums, ducking his head to playfully nip at my jawline, earning a giggle from me. "You made me giggle, I hate you", I pout.

"Why? I love that sound, it's adorable."

"It's not. I'm manly, Harry, and men do not giggle."

"Manly, hm?" He raises one eyebrow, squeezing my waist before slipping his hands lower to cup the expanse of my bum. "Harry!" I screech, hitting his upper arm but he only delivers another squeeze to my behind.

"Not so manly anymore, eh?" His low voice teases right in my ear, making me shudder from the closeness.
"Still manly", I decide, starting to roll my hips in circles.

Two can play a game, Styles.

His grip tightens and he lets out a low hum in my ear, giving a peck to the shell.

"Fucking love your ass, baby", his low voice murmurs.

"Too bad you'll have to wait until we get to your flat to get a piece of it, daddy", I let out, halting my movements, earning a not-so-happy sound from the man under me.

"Why, though, babe? Nobody's here. We could have a quick round right here, or even in the music booth. Just imagine recording your pretty little sounds and using them as background noise for one of my new songs. That'd be so sexy."

Just at the thought, my skin starts to get hot and I intake a sharp breath. "You'd like that, daddy? Want your fans and everyone to hear how good you fuck me? Want them to hear how loud I can be for you?"

Harry gazes up at me to where I'm still sitting perched in his lap, his normally light emerald eyes now resembling a dark forest green. I gaze back, stopping my hand movements in his hair.
Then, he slowly starts to shake his head with a firm face, making me cock my head to the side, confused.

"Now that you say it like that, I don't want anybody but me to hear the sounds you make when I pound that pretty little ass of yours. You're mine", he declares wih a low grumble, making me smile and peck his nose. "So possessive of my body."

He just shrugs and leans up so that he is on the same level as I am. "Not just of your body. Now kiss me, you fool."