Louis: While most people think the crazy tabloid stories about you and Louis and your relationship make you angry or upset, in actuality you both find them so ridiculous they’re funny. Yeah, sometimes there are ones that you’re just like, “Wow, uncalled for.” But for the most part, they’re so off base and contrived you can’t help but laugh. Tonight Louis had brought home several “teen girl” rags and was reading the stories aloud to you—first about just about him and your relationship, but now also about many of your famous friends, and you are laughing so hard tears are running down your cheeks. If the stories weren’t funny enough, his voices and melodramatic interpretation of the text is just too much, and you can’t help but collapse onto his lap in laughter. The hand that had been around your shoulders rests on your back as he continues his silly narration. You slap the side of the couch in amusement and wail at him. “Stop! I can’t breathe—stop!!” He finally breaks into laughter himself and playfully hits the back of your head with the magazine, his legs crossed onto the coffee table. “Oh my wooordd..” you moan, giggles popping out of you, and you roll over so your head is face up in his lap. “You know, I think they’re right.” He plays. “About what—me cheating on you with Liam or that we should buy a tiger and dye it red in honor of our passionate love?” you raise your eyebrows, your question resulting in more laughter from the both of you. “No no, I’m pretty sure I did impregnate Beyonce. You know, that one time when we almost made eye contact at the one awards show.” He pretends seriousness. You chuckle and raise your hand to your head in laughter. “They were right about one thing.” You respond, and he peaks his eyebrows. “What’s that?” “You’re sass. They were right about your sass.” You laugh and he feigns offense. “What?? Of course not.” He sarcastically denies before breaking into a grin. “Well they were very wrong about how gorgeous you are.” He speaks as he lowers his face to yours, and you dismiss his sarcasm with a placid, “Mhmm.” before he kisses you, his sass showing through even then, making you giggle and long for more all at the same time.
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Zayn: Tired after a long day, you crawl haphazardly onto the end of the bed and up towards Zayn, who is lost in another piece of literature, his glasses outlining furrowed, concentrating brows. You collapse next to him, your arm slinging over his torso and your head resting on his chest, just below his book. He absentmindedly puts a hand to your back and gently massages, still enraptured with whatever it is he’s reading. You sigh and snuggle down a little deeper. He shifts himself to make you more comfortable. “Good book?” you mumble, sleepy and comfortable with his warmth. “Eh, yeah, s’good.” He responds. “You ready for bed?” he questions, really asking if you want him to turn the light out. “It’s okay, I’m really tired, but can’t sleep. I’ll just lay here for a while, I guess.” You respond, and his hand continues its steady circles on your back. “Bad day?” he asks. “Just long, really.” You answer and wince as he thumbs a knot in your shoulder. “Sorry, love.” He mutters and brushes over the spot more gently. “Want me to read to you?” he suggests, knowing that it helps you calm down, and softly gathers the hair partially covering your face and sweeps it behind your neck before moving his hand to your back again. “Mm, yeah, that’d be nice.” You mumble and hug him a little tighter as he begins to read where he left off on his own, his voice soft but strong, slowly lulling you to sleep.
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Niall: “Babe, listen to this—‘”No, stop.” You say, your breath caught in your throat. Niall moves his hand up your back and it takes everything in you to press back on his chest. “Niall, I’m already seeing someone else. This could never work.” But, despite your protests, his lips find your neck and you can’t stop him. Because, well.. because deep down you don’t want to.’ Can you believe this stuff? It’s crazy!” Niall exclaims, laughter in his voice. You give a small chuckle as you finish watering your plant and move across the room towards him. For the last half hour he’s been sifting through fanfic on the internet, his responses a varied mix of shocked, amused, disturbed, and entertained. He’s been reading the most ridiculous parts out loud to you as you finish up a few things around the house, and you have been equally as entertained if not more—his responses almost being more hilarious than the fics themselves. He can’t believe some of the things the fans think to write, and you can tell he’s caught between being disturbed about the person they’ve made him to be and wishing he was a little more like that guy. You move to sit on his lap at the table, closing the laptop over his hands while doing so. “Why don’t we.. write our own fanfic.” You suggest, wagging an eyebrow. He cackles at your impish, cheesy face and sloppily kisses you. “You know I’m not anything like that.” He responds, laughing. “Well you do like food.” You counter, nodding your head to the side. “Yeah, but I don’t worship it.” He giggles, but you give him a knowing look. “Shut up.” He laughs. “Well, if nothing else, at least they’ve given you some ideas.” You giggle and kiss his forehead. “For what??” he asks, still cackling. “You know.. stuff.” You laugh with him. “You crazy woman.” He chortles and you kiss him again as he lifts you up and sits you on the table. He stands to hover closer, breathing at your neck. Just when you think he might actually do something romantic or sexy, he licks your neck and giggles. “How was that?” he asks, still clearly amused. You throw your head back in a laugh. “Well, it’s a start.” You keep giggling as he pulls you onto his back and carries you to the couch, obviously ready to watch the movie he’d been waiting to start until you’d finished cleaning. “If it’s any consolation,” you speak into his ear, “I like you just the way you are.” He chuckles. “Good, because you’re stuck with me.”
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Liam: “I guess a walk wasn’t the best idea after all!” you laugh as Liam fumbles with the key to your flat and finally unlocks the door, raindrops dripping from the peaks of his short hair. He grins and lets you in the door first by gently pressing at the small of your back. “Guess not.” He replies and laughs. You grab some towels to dry off with and throw one at his head, making him laugh again. He pretends he can’t see and stumbles over to you with hands outstretched, feeling clumsily at your face, which makes you giggle. “Liaam!” you playfully whine and he pulls the towel down from his face with a huge grin. “Hurry up and give me your clothes so I can throw them in the wash.” You laugh, to which he responds by undoing his plaid button down and pulling his white undershirt over his head. He quickly kisses your temple and thanks you as you take his damp laundry before he trots off to the bedroom to find drier, warmer clothes. You meet him there after a few minutes and pull out the most fluffy pajama pants in your collection, eager to get your warmth back. “Want to read?” he asks, pulling a clean shirt over his head. “Yeah, let’s.” you smile and adjust the straps on your camisole. A few weeks ago you had a conversation about the Chronicles of Narnia and how you both loved reading the books as kids, but hadn’t read them in forever, so you decided to reread all of them together. It had turned out to be quite fun, spending time together, reading the books that had made your childhood so vivid, and just being silly with voices and laughter. And today would be the perfect setting—rainy and cold and snuggly. So you retrieve an armful of blankets while he grabs the book—a collection of all seven stories—and throws the curtains open before snuggling into the couch. His sits first, back against the arm rest and legs extended down the length of the couch. You nestle yourself between his legs and lean into him, his arms wrapping around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder. He makes a silly comment which causes you both to giggle as you open the book to where you left off. “Want to start?” he asks, pulling you just a bit closer. “No, you start.” You smile and point to the page. He takes his cue and begins the next chapter, and as the rain streams down the glass doors in front of you and Liam’s breath whispers past your ear, you are hurled into a world of make believe and minotaurs and magic.
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Harry: Back when you had first started dating Harry and were young enough to stay up into the wee hours of the morning skyping and texting and talking, two month lengths of separation were hard, but really went by rather quickly. Now, even two weeks seems like an eternity, especially to your two, beautiful little girls. When he had gotten home today, you barely had any time to properly greet him before they were jumping all over him and hanging on his arms and pulling him into the play room to show him the pictures they’d drawn while he was away. You think he may have been even more excited to see them than they him, as evidenced by his humungo grin and twinkling eyes and ecstatic excitement about their artwork. He was so proud, so glad to be home. And now he’s emerging from the bathroom with them, his large hands folded around theirs. The smell of shampoo and bubble bath seeps into the living room and you smile and look up from your ipad as one of them breaks hold of his hand and runs to your chair, hopping onto your lap. “Can daddy read us our story tonight??” she asks excitedly, her wet hair dripping onto your shirt. “Of course, love.” You answer and smile at Harry, who is lost at the sight of you with his daughter. You can tell in his eyes that he’s wondering how he could ever have missed something so much and how much longer two weeks feels when you have a family. Your daughter runs to her bedroom to pick out a book, and Harry scoops the other up, making her giggle by pretending to drop her repetitively. You grin and stand, moving to kiss the side of her cheek, and she reaches out for your neck. He laughs and hands her over, closing the both of you in a hug and kissing your forehead. “We’ve missed you so much.” You whisper, sharing a moment with him. His eyes show more than he can speak. “I’ve missed you too.” He responds with a smile, meaning it more than you think he ever has. Your other daughter runs back into the room and pulls him to the couch, bouncing on his lap. You let the one in your arms down so she can do the same. “Make room for mummy!” he calls and gently pushes them aside long enough for you to cuddle down beside him. He wraps his arm around you as your girls fill the empty spaces in your laps and snuggle in, ready for their bedtime story. You can’t help but grin as he begins a playful rendition of their favorite story— one you’ve read a thousand times, but sounds so much better told by their daddy.
