Larry Stylinson | Fanfics

(You're) having my baby

Written by: letthemlove [Ao3]

Summary:

"Of course it is, love. It's the best story ever. And the moral of it is this: if a handsome curly-haired boy with green eyes and dimples comes up to you, run away and run away far, otherwise you'll find yourself seven-months pregnant and desperately in love with a goofy boy that loves to tell awful jokes."

or the one where Louis is seven-months pregnant and Harry likes talking to their baby.

Work Text:

It is half-past eleven on a Friday night and while most people his age are out partying, Harry is content enough with just staying home, cuddling in bed with his boyfriend. He's currently lying between Louis' parted legs, his chin resting gently over the swell of his seven-month pregnant tummy as he traces soothing patterns over the stretched skin.

It is one of his favourite places to be since-well sincealways, really-but especially now that Louis is pregnant. He likes talking to the baby, finds that there is nothing more relaxing after a stressful day of uni and an extra shift at the bakery than to come home to his very pregnant boyfriend and lay between his legs as he talks to their child.

And today is no exception. He's halfway through telling the story of how he and Louis met yet again-he's probably told the story more times than he can count but it's his favourite story to tell so-with Louis interjecting with bits and pieces as he threads delicate fingers through Harry's hair.

"And then I look up, and I see the most brilliant pair of blue eyes looking at me curiously through the bathroom mirror. And I swear, Peanut, it's as if the whole world stopped; I thought I was seeing an angel."

"Funny that I thought I was seeing a frog," Louis says and Harry looks up, jutting his bottom lip out as he meets his gaze with a small frown. Louis giggles, looking at him fondly as he adds, "a very handsome frog."

"Don't listen to him, Peanut," Harry grumbles, "he's just jealous that he doesn't have my rugged looks and irresistible curls."

"Oh, is that what you call this mess?" Louis teases, pulling softly at his hair. "Curls? More like rats nest, don't you think?"

"You love my hair," Harry says indignantly, his bottom lip jutting out even more.

"Never said I didn't, bud," Louis says, smiling what their mates have dubbed his Harry-smile, the one that makes the crinkles by his eyes seem more prominent, makes his eyes shine even brighter. "I love your curls, babe; they're one of my favourite things about you. Love passing my fingers through them, love pulling at them as you fuck me into the mattress and making you moan-"

"Louis," Harry hisses as he covers Louis' stomach with both of his large hands, eliciting another giggle from the smaller boy. "Not in front of the baby."

"I'm pretty sure the baby has heard worse, Harold. You're not exactly quiet during sex, you know."

Harry can feel himself blush at that and he gives Louis a horrified look, which sends him into another fit of giggles.

"You don't think the baby's heard us, do you?" he asks, before dropping his gaze to Louis' tummy. "Oh, god, Lou, we've corrupted him before he's even born."

"You're such an idiot, Haz," Louis says fondly, placing his free hand over his large stomach. "Your Papa's such an idiot, baby, did you know? But we love him anyway, don't we, baby?"

Louis makes a face and bites his lip as he says this, his hand flying to his side. Harry looms over him, his eyes worried as he sweeps his fringe out of his eyes.