You’re best friends ( but he loves you) and you ask him a sex advice.
Liam: You smiled, snuggling closer to your best friend. He had finally came home from a long tour, making you happy and relaxed with his presence. “Liam,” you whispered, looking at his brown eyes what were staring at the television screen. He tilted his head to give you a small, gentle smile when you looked at him trying to figure out how to ask what you wanted to ask, without sounding stupid. “Would you…um…If someone would ask you to do…it…just after second date, would you do it?” you asked quietly, looking how he snapped his head to look at you concerned. He ran his big hand through his hair while you were more interested to explore the texture of his couch. “I don’t know…It depends who are we talking about here,” he said slowly, pouting his lip a bit when he tried to study you, praying in his mind that his instinct was wrong. He loved to keep you close and give you everything you deserved. He loved you more than anything in the entire world, knowing that it was his duty to try to make you happy even when he was just your friend. “I was out in a date with one guy, and he kind of asked if I wanted to. I said no at the moment but now I’m feeling that I messed it up,” you said slowly, trying not to sound desperate. Yes, you loved Liam, but he was international pop sensation and you were just you. At some point you had to let go and move on. “So would you have done it?” you asked, looking at his tensed figure. He was looking down, eyes in his tattoos like he’d be counting them. He was feeling so much sorrow and jealousy he couldn’t face you. He wanted to yell you to love him and make you understand that you were worth so much more. His stubbly jaw tensed when he adjusted his grey sweatpants and batman t-shirt before answering to you. His voice was shaky and smile was forced but he meant every word he said, “No, I wouldn’t have done it. And I know you. You are worth to wait, love, and he’s fool if he thinks otherwise.”
Louis: You winced, making Louis raise his eyebrows when you sat next to him to the coffee shop. His small hands were wrapped around a tea cup while he warmed himself up in the cold morning. “Rough night, huh?” he teased, trying to cover the bitterness in his voice. He could see how sore you were and he was not pleased. He hated that he wasn’t the one who made your toes curl and he couldn’t wake you up with tender kisses. “Yeah…Louis, can I ask you something?” you asked, stirring your coffee with a small spoon, trying to make the sugar melt. Louis smirked, looking at you with his blue, mischievous eyes what sparkled every time he looked at you. He was so perfect. He was everything; handsome, funny and respectful. He knew what to say when you were down; he always knew when not to tease you and when he could. He was everything for you. “It quite depends,” he answered sassily, smirking when he licked his pink lips. You giggled shaking your head before taking a sip of your drink. “When someone hurts you during sex, do you think that the person who got hurt should tell to the one who hurt him?” you rambled, making Lou’s eyebrows rise again when he stared at you confused. “Sorry,” you mumbled blushing, staring at your coffee. Louis chuckled darkly, feeling how his heart grew heavier. He hated your boyfriend. He wanted to hurt him like he hurt you but he knew he couldn’t. He loved you but that was it. You had a boyfriend, and you were happy. “You should tell that asshole that so he can wallow in self-pity,” Louis mumbled, making you look at him and smack his arm playfully. “No times for jokes, Lou, I was serious!” you laughed, trying to get over how cute he looked. He nodded, taking a long sip of his tea so he wouldn’t have to answer you. “So was I,” he mumbled to himself so quietly you wouldn’t hear. If it would be his concern, no one would ever get so near that hurting could be a possibility. He loved you so much and he wanted to keep you safe, whatever it takes.
Harry: “Hi Y/N,” he said surprised when he opened his out door to see you standing out of his apartment. You smiled sadly; tears covered your cheeks when you tried to stay together, not wanting to break in front of your best friend. “C-Can I come in?” you asked, trying to cover your shaking voice. He was frozen, looking at you with his big, green eyes. He nodded, feeling how his concern grew when he saw your tears. He hated to see you cry, it broke his heart. He sighed, pulling you for a long, warm hug. His long, inked arms wrapped around you, curls tickling your nose when he squeezed you, letting you cry against his shoulder. He never wanted to let you go, wanting to keep you safe forever in his arms, but the minute you pulled away he felt incomplete. “What happened,” he murmured, rubbing his large thumb over your cheek, drying your tears to his skin. He smelled good; apples, bananas and shampoo, making your head spin. “He…um…he said I’m not good enough…in sex..,” you whispered, few tears rolling down your cheeks. You lifted your hand to dry them away but Harry was quicker. His warm hand whipped away your salty tears when he tried to get himself to calm down. The war inside him was painful. He was heartbroken to see you cry but the most painful feeling he had was the urge to go back to your boyfriend’s flat and rip his head off. He wanted to yell him that he was lucky to have you. He would do anything to get even one evening with you. He could feel how you were trembling in his hands. “Harry…What can I do to him to make him think otherwise? Is there some trick what makes boys crazy? Please tell me what to do Harry, please,” you begged, looking at him pleadingly, wishing that he would give you anything what would make you feel a bit less like a loser. He pulled his pink lip with his finger before looking at you, green eyes full of tears, “I think you should leave him.” His chin was trembling when he looked at you pleadingly, “You deserve so much more Y/N, so, so much more.”
Zayn: You giggled, tossing a pillow to Zayn who groaned sleepily, burying your head to his pillow. “Get up Zaynie, I need to talk to you, Come on!” you yelled dramatically, poking his stubbly cheek, making him grunt lowly. He was only wearing his boxers, legs tangled to his blanket when he tried to sleep through your waking. He was your best friend, nothing more, even though you wanted it. He was the one for you, but you knew that nothing you would do would ever make him deserve you. “Zayn, please,” you pouted whining, sitting next to him in his bed, tickling his chin. “Fine, I’ll talk and you’ll sleep then,” you groaned, rolling your eyes before lying next to him. “My boyfriend fell asleep on me last night. During sex…Should I be worried?” you blurted out, making his brown eyes shoot open. He could feel your breathing next to him, making him feel like home. He wanted to wake up like that every morning. He wanted you to wake him up every morning of his life. He loved how you giggled and tried everything to wake him up when he pretended to stay asleep so he could keep you with him for just another minute. “He what?” he mumbled, yawning before sitting up and running his hand through his hair. He stretched his arms over his head, trying to wake his body to the new morning. His heart was bouncing when he looked at you of the corner of his eyes. “He fell asleep while he was in me,” you mumbled embarrassed, looking at your best friend, trying not to blush. Zayn stared at you, not knowing what to say. He opened his mouth before closing it again and scratching his neck with his long fingers. “I feel like a really bad girlfriend,” you groaned, looking at him guiltily. “I can’t even satisfy my own boyfriend’s needs.” Zayn sighed, taking your small hand on yours, squeezing your hand tightly. “You are great Y/N,” he said, dark eyes studying you like an interesting drawing, “It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong. He just can’t appreciate the greatest thing of his life.” You smiled, tears blurring your vision. “You really think so Zaynie?” you asked, looking at him through your tears. “I know so Y/N.”
Niall: He laughed his throaty laugh, taking a wing of his beer. He was sitting next to you, legs spread like true men. He was on his grey college pants, white t-shirt revealing his muscles. You giggled nodding while you told him your story, trying to describe it with your hands. “Ye’re such a weirdo Y/N,” he laughed, shaking his head, looking at you with his bright blue, happy eyes. You laughed, punching him playfully, making him laugh again. Football game was on television but neither of you were focusing on it. It was rare to have an afternoon with just you two. Normally either your boyfriend or Niall’s friends were there with you. Your laughter died when you stared at the screen for a second; trying to get the awful feeling of his words off your chest. You knew he hadn’t meant them like an insult. He was Niall, your best friend, and he always wanted to keep you comfortable. He looked at you concerned, his eyebrows furrowed when he tried to figure out what his said wrong. It made him angry that he couldn’t say anything for you. He was afraid that he would blurt out that he loved you. He wanted you all by himself, knowing that you two would make a perfect couple. “What did I say?” he asked slowly, smile dying when he looked at you. You smiled, shaking your head, “Nothing, I’m just weirdo..I’m not normal…” He looked at you confused, running his white hands over his blond hair, revealing his brown roots. He looked more beautiful than ever, pimples making his white skin look fragile. “What do ye mean?” he asked, biting his nails, trying to get the awful feeling off his chest. He wanted to get to love you and get love from you so badly it was making his heart broke. “That I can’t get even my boyfriend’s penis go up when it’s needed. I’m not normal. I’m not attractive, I’m weirdo and nothing in me is right,” you confessed, making him look at you in shock. “What? He can’t get his penis up?” he cracked, laughing so loudly it made windows rattle. You looked at him, few tears rolling down your cheeks. Noticing them, his laughter died to his pink, perfect lips. “Ye can’t be serious Y/N! What kind of man can resist ye? I promise ye are perfect and fuckin’ sexy!” he almost yelled, turning to cup your cheeks before stroking them with his calloused fingertips. “You promise?” you asked, feeling awful to look so bad in front of him. You wanted to make him want you, but you couldn’t make even your own boyfriend to want you. “I promise,” he chuckled, running his hand over his hair once again, thinking the many times he had to hide his boner in front of you. “If only ye knew what impact ye have on men, Y/N.”
