One Direction Preferences from Tumblr

#191: One More Night (smut)

#191: One More Night-unkindnessofone

Listen to: One More Night- Maroon 5

Liam: You and I go hard at each other like we're going to war.

You and I go rough, we keep throwing things and slamming the door.

You and I get so damn dysfunctional, we stopped keeping score.

You and I get sick, yeah, I know that we can't do this no more.

It had to have been the ninth. The ninth time that month that you two had gone at each other like sworn enemies with vendettas dating back to your grandfather's father's life. The other guys in the band had stopped trying to guess what blow up would be the one that caused you two to go your separate ways as well as they had ceased getting in the middle, trying to cool either of you or both down when things escalated. Personally, you were a dirty fighter. You hurled insults that didn't even have anything to do with the topic that brought you both into the ring, you just said what you knew would hurt the most. It wasn't something you were proud of, but when you were standing on the tips of your toes, your face upward and shouting at his enraged in red, you weren't about to start practicing self-control. Liam wasn't exactly the king of serenity either. He had racked up large hotel bills for breaking different objects in the room, throwing them to keep himself from actually causing you any real bodily harm. The worst he had ever done was rip a mini fridge out of the wall of a Four Seasons and throw it across the room, forming a few dents in the drywall. Something like that should have stopped the fight completely. It should have made you both see how out of control you were in the moment, but it didn't. You could remember inhaling deeply and telling him that he was a complete psychopath. It was the ninth fight today and the month had ten days left in it and, as much as you loved Liam and you were pretty sure he loved you, you sometimes hoped that every fight would be the last. He was still in the office of his apartment, the sound of glass breaking and his feet stomping played like a poorly edited rock song while you were in the washroom, grabbing the essentials like a hairbrush, some makeup, your toothbrush, and deodorant to take with you. Maybe, Louis was right. You were both too stubborn and needed some serious time apart. He always told you that, way back when you and Liam first got together, but it was only now that you were thinking about it seriously. You were actually exhausted. The fighting used to be kind of fun. There was raw sex appeal in how Liam's muscles would tighten and pulsate as he was being shouted at, how he would grow flustered and glare at you, and sometimes you imagined it was your body he was tossing on the bed instead of a crystal vase across a deluxe hotel suite. The novelty had long since expired. "You're not going to come up and fucking apologize!? This is your fault this time. You shouldn't have fucking said that!" Liam appeared in the doorway of the brightly lit washroom. You were standing in front of his cupboard, debating taking the tampons you stashed there with you since you weren't sure how long you would be gone for. Steam had been fleeing from his nostrils, but it stopped when he saw your tote bag on the ground full of your toiletries. The two of you fought like jackals in the wild, but neither of you had ever actually left. There had never even been a break. "Where are you going to go?" You couldn't tell if he was confused, concerned, or offended when he asked, but it didn't really matter. Leaving was the right thing to do. You couldn't take this anymore and it wasn't good for him either. "I've arranged something." He didn't need to know. If there was a chance he was going to follow you, and there was, then he didn't need to know any address or the name of the friend you would be crashing with. "You've arranged something?" He echoed back, looking completely astounded at your gull. "Arranged something where? With who?!" You practically lived at his place after all and he liked that even if he used it to hoard over you. "Just give it a rest, Liam. You're being a child." You were trying to stay composed, but he made it so difficult. The way he had arrogantly rolled his eyes at you a dozen times while you two were fitting still had your blood boiling. You threw the straps of your bag over your shoulder and went to move past him, but Liam wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you back, picking your feet up off the ground. "This is ridiculous! Jesus Christ, put me down!" You hissed, kicking your legs back. "I will bite you! You know I will!" It would have been easy to turn your head around and sink your teeth into his neck, his veins pumping from all the testosterone running through them now. He put you down on your stomach on the bed, snatching your purse from you and holding it above his head while you wiggled around onto your backside. "You are deranged! I can't believe I ever fucking thought I could spend my life with you! You couldn't pay me to spend another day with you!" Manhandling had its time and place, but right now wad completely wrong. You wished so badly that you could have charged at him, but you knew that would hurt you more than it would him. Liam threw your bag to the side and stepped forward, spreading your knees apart with both hands so he can stand between them and over you. "You fucking love me. You fucking love this." His voice breathed out over you, hot air racing down your chest as his eyes devoured you like a beast would a rack of lamb. Inhaling deeply, you argued with yourself. There was a part of you that yearned to slap him across his smug face, but there was the other part that agreed with him. You did fucking love him and you were so used to this violent game. It was the ninth day and what was one more, you thought as you laid back down, using your ankle on his spine to push him down over you. Maybe, he really could devour you whole.