Fight Turns Dirty (Repeat)

Harry:  Your blood had quickly started to boil after the umptempth girl had walked up to your boyfriend and tried to grind her slutty body against his. The cheeky smile he had directed towards each girl before finally moving away only heightened your anger and before long you found yourself lost in the crowd of bumping bodies. A hard body presses against your back, one that’s unfamiliar, and you can’t stop yourself from pressing back against him out of anger and frustration with your popular boyfriend. The thick hands behind you grip your hips tighter as you allow yourself to glance over the bodies, looking for the familiar body of Harry. He isn’t hard to spot, his long torso leaned against the railing of the VIP section as his hard glare stares right through you. You smirk to yourself because you’ve gotten exactly what you wanted, Harry feeling as insecure as you had earlier. What you weren’t counting on was his body to start pushing through the crowd until his long fingers are wrapping around your wrist tightly to drag you away. You stumble behind him as he leads you through the crowded club towards the bathrooms. Turning left down an empty hallway, he swings you around him into a rarely used bathroom, slamming the heavy door behind him. His darkened eyes are glaring through you as his chest heaves, fists clenching at his side but you stand your ground. “What the FUCK was that?” he demands, craning his neck to the side to crack the bones wickedly. “Whatever do you mean Harold?” you ask sickenly sweet, crossing your arms under your chest while tilting your head to the side. “You know damn well what I’m talking about” he seethes, stepping forward until he has you back against the bathroom sinks. “Why don’t you tell me Harold… do you enjoy making me feel insecure when it takes you so long to step away from those sluts when they press against you” you snap, reaching your trembling hands forward to shove his body away. Something flashes in his eyes and for a brief moment, you know he never meant to make you feel that way. As quickly as it flashes behind his dark eyes, it’s returned, his pride and possessiveness overcoming any other emotion he could feel in that moment. “So you thought it was ok for you to act like any other slut in this club and press against some other guy!” he shouts loudly, flinging his hand to the side to illustrate his point. “How’s it feel Harold? To know some other guy could make me feel the way you make me feel? To know he could possibly do it better? That some other guy could fuck me better than you?” you taunt, stepping forward as you fill his mind with doubt. He growls, low in his throat, and his long fingers are gripping your upper arms while shoving you back against the wall of the bathroom. “Fuck you” he hisses in your ear, lifting you against him as your back makes contact with the wall. “No, fuck you Harold! Fuck you and your need to be surrounded by all those girls! Fuck you for making me feel insecure… fuck you!” you cry out, a few tears slipping down your cheeks as his large hands push the hem of you plum bodycon dress up to your waist. His mood shifts for a moment, eyes softening as he gazes at the tears slipping down your face. A long finger reaches up to wipe them away, his soft lips kissing the rest away. “No one… NOONE can fuck you like I can” he whispers in your ear darkly, fingers gripping your waist tightly. “No one knows you like I do… no one can make you feel like this” he breathes against your ear as you grip the curls at the nape of his neck. “No other girl can make you feel like I can Harry, remember that when some other slut tries to press against you” you groan against his ear, gasping when he rips the flimsy material of your lace knickers from your body. He groans against your neck, leaning his head off your shoulder to watch as you fumble with the button and zipper of his black jeans. The heavy material hits the tiled floor with a soft thud and Harry’s pushing your farther up the wall while gripping the backs of your bare thighs. He takes a moment to gaze down at your body, dress pushed up to your waist with your slim thighs wrapped around his waist. It’s a sight he’s seen many a times but he’s never gazed at you this way when he’s been so angry. He smirks and the sight irks you as his long fingers trail up the smooth expanse of skin to the apex of your thighs. “I don’t know… I think any slut could do it like this” he taunts darkly, egging your anger on. Your eyes widen and before you know it the satisfactory sound of the palm of your hand connecting with his cheek fills the bathroom. His head snaps back towards you, eyes completely dark as he breaths heavily through his flared nostrils. Without warning he’s thrusted inside of you, teeth nipping at the skin of your neck roughly as you cry out. He doesn’t give you the time to adjust as he normally would, pulling out of you quickly before thrusting back inside of your warmth. Your fingers grip the back of his neck as you pant against his cheek, his hips unrelenting as he thrusts into you until the both of you are gasping the others name. “Did… I, are you ok?” he whispers against your cheek as the two of you catch your breath. You nod, unable to speak as he sets you back down on shaky legs. “I’m sorry love, I never meant to make you feel insecure. I love you and only you, please don’t every forget that” he asks helping you pull you dress back down so it covers you.

 You’re sitting on Louis couch, waiting for his return from a day at the studio. His texts have been short and curt throughout the day, a warning that he’s not very happy. You hear the engine of his Porsche shut off in the garage and you brace yourself for his return. You sit on the couch for several minutes, staring through the TV wondering why Louis hasn’t entered the house yet. You hear the door of his Porsche slam loudly and you wince. The garage door opens suddenly and Louis is stepping over the threshold when you look up. The muscles in his arm flex as he pulls the door shut behind him, the sound rattling the doorframe before he stalks towards the stairs. “Louis… is everything alright?” you ask, turning onto your knees to watch him move through the house. He doesn’t answer and before he reaches the first step, your small hand has wrapped around his wrist softly. “Don’t… just fuckin don’t” he hisses, trying to wrench his arm from your grasp but you’re hold in unyielding. “Louis… just talk to me. Maybe I could help” you offer softly, flinching when he turns towards you. “I don’t want to talk about it, what part of that don’t you understand?” he questions harshly as his eyes scan your face. “Just talk to me Lou… that’s what I’m here for, to help you. I can’t do that if you won’t talk to me,” you say again, hoping to break through the tough exterior your boyfriend has put up. “You can’t just fuckin let it go can you?” he seethes, flipping his hand around to grip your wrist and drag you up the stairs. You stumble behind him as he quickly makes his way down the hall towards his bedroom, staggering forward as he swings you around him onto the bed. You flop back against the mattress as he starts pulling your clothes from your body, tossing the material onto his hardwood floors before he’s pulling his own clothes off. You watch him, swallowing the lump in your throat at the hard look behind his usually soft eyes. He climbs onto you, hands pushing your legs apart as he crawls between them. “Louis?” you question, fingers shaking at the silent form of your boyfriend hovering over you. He shakes his head before thrusting into you. At the strangled gasp falling from your lips, Louis gives you a brief moment to adjust before he’s pushing against you harder as he continues thrusting into you. You grip his back, nails digging into his tanned skin as he thrusts into you harder and faster. Your moans and gasps are the only thing filling the room, as Louis is completely silent above you; a tall tell sign that he’s angry. Thighs quivering as you climax, your eyes lock on his as his mouth falls open in a gasp. A strangled gasp spills from his lips as he climaxes, the only noise he’s made the whole time. He pulls out and falls to your side, pulling your body into his as he presses a sweet kiss to your temple.

Walking into the apartment you share with your longtime boyfriend Liam, you drop your shopping bags off at the laundry room and wonder into the living room. You see your boyfriend seated on the beige couch, the TV muted in front of him with his laptop on his knees. You stand in the doorway, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of your shirtless boyfriend before stepping forward to wrap your arms around his neck. “Hey baby… what’cha doing?” you ask against his neck, stepping around the couch when he slams his laptop shut. “What’s wrong?” you question, taking a seat on the coffee table in front of him as he leans forward on his knees. “I don’t understand why the fans can’t stop sending me such awful things about you” he huffs, pulling at his hair in frustration. You’re silent for several moments as you watch him wrangle with his emotions. Liam isn’t one to get angry often but when he does, he always seems to struggle with how to overcome the intensity of his body. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” he asks, lifting his brown eyes to gaze at you. “I don’t know Liam, you’re the one that usually speaks for me so what should I say” you question, crossing your arms under your chest as you glare at him. “What are you talking about?” he stutters, leaning back against the cushions as his knees fall apart. “You’re the one that always has something to say about the fans being bitches so, how should I feel right now? You tell me and I’ll be sure to act appropriately” you say simply, watching as his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Why are you acting like this?” Liam questions and you snap. “Why can’t you just fuckin let it go Liam! I could give two shits what they say about me and I don’t know why that isn’t good enough for you! They didn’t like me three years ago, they don’t like me now, and they’re not gonna like me later so just let it the fuck go!” you shout, standing from your seat on the table quickly. Liam’s silent from his place on the couch as he watches you stand above him. “Really, you have nothing to say to that?” you question angrily and Liam’s face hardens. “I’m sorry I just want them to like the girl I’m in love with! Excuse the fuck out of me for trying to stand up for my girlfriend when my fans start talking shit about her! I’ll be sure not to make that mistake ever again!” he shouts angrily, moving to stand from the couch but you shove him back against the cushions. “You know… you’re hot when you get really angry” you whispers against his ear as you straddle him, the material of your cotton sun dress pooling around your thighs. “Really now? Maybe I should angry more often” he breaths against you neck, shifting your panties to the side as you pull him from his athletic shorts. Leaning down you cover his lips with yours as you drop down on his length. Pulling your lips from his, you nip at the skin of his jaw before sucking at the skin of his neck to leave your mark. His deep moans spur you on as you continue to circle and drop your hips over his, gripping his shoulders tightly when he thrusts up into you. You gasp his name against his neck as you climax, your name falling from his lips as he does the same. Several minutes later, the two of you are lying down on the couch when Liam presses his lips to your temple. “I promise, I’ll try not to say anything unless I can absolutely not help it”

Your boyfriend has just left to eat lunch with Liam, leaving you in the hotel room to do whatever you want. Naturally, you choose to watch the Real Housewives marathon on Bravo as you relax against the headboard. You haven’t even made it all the way through one episode before the door to your hotel room is opening and slamming shut. Looking away from the scene in front of you, you notice Niall seething in the doorway. “What… what happened?” you ask hurriedly, rushing to sit against the edge of the bed. “I… they, they know I’m claustrophobic!” he shouts, hand shooting out to smack the hotel wall roughly. “What, are you talking about?” you question, sliding from the bed to slide your arms around his waist. “They surrounded the two of us on the streets! I… I couldn’t breathe and they kept trying to touch us… why, why do they do that?” he’s upset and you feel helpless to soothe his trembling body. “Niall… I’m so sorry” you say against his neck softly, turning to watch him as he steps around you to sit against the edge of the bed. “I, don’t want to talk it about anymore” he huffs, pulling at his blonde locks in frustration. “Ok… I, what do you want to do?” you question and he snaps. “Can’t you just be quiet! I don’t want to talk, about anything! God… I’m freaking out right now and you’re not making it any better” he shouts and your eyes widen at his tone. “Don’t talk to me like that Niall! I know you’re upset right now but that doesn’t give you the right to be an ass” you snap, turning out of his hold when he tried to wrap his arms around you. “Don’t be such a bitch” he huffs, gripping your wrist as you struggle against him. Your hand shoots out before you can stop yourself, your palm colliding with his pale cheek and his head snaps to the side. His eyes flash and before you know it he’s shoved your yoga pants to the floor while pushing you against the dresser in front of him. His hand smacks the wall behind your head before it has a chance to slam against the hard wall as your fingers push his pants to the floor. He’s sheathed inside of you, thrusting in tune to the music blaring from the room next door. His kisses bruise against your lips as he grips your hips tight enough to leave a bruise. He holds you against him when the two of you climax at the same time, pressing a kiss to forehead in apology for the way he spoke to you earlier.

Sitting on the couch next to your best friend, you both glare at the computer screen in front of you. Yet another day of incessant tweets sent to you boyfriend from his ex stare back at you. Zayn is upstairs in the shower, getting ready to take you and your best friend out for her birthday. You fingers start tapping against the keyboard noisily and your friend covers your hand with hers. “Calm down” she reminds you and you snap. “Calm down… calm down! This is the fourth day she’s done this! She won’t leave him alone! She’s always texting or calling or tweeting… I can’t take it anymore!” you hiss, pulling at the ends of your long hair while shoving the laptop to the floor. Your eyes widen as the screen cracks, the sound of Zayn’s footsteps on the stairs causing you to turn around. “What’s going on?” he asks, shaking a towel through his damp hair. “Is that… is that my laptop?” he questions, staring at the broken screen before glancing at you. “I’ll… I’m just gonna go now” your best friend says quickly, leaving Zayn’s apartment before shutting the door behind her. “What’s going on?” Zayn questions, dropping his towel to the ground to pick up his broken laptop to rub his finger tip against the mouse pad. “She won’t leave you the fuck alone! Can’t you tell her to back off?” you shout angrily. “Who, what are you talking about?” he says, voice rising when he realizes his laptop is indeed broken. “Perrie! She won’t stop calling or texting or tweeting and I can’t stand it anymore!” you complain, standing from the couch to glare at him as his jaw clenches. “So you thought it best to break my fucking laptop! I can’t help it if she won’t leave me alone but that doesn’t mean you get to break my laptop! Do you how much this thing cost?” he questions, shaking the broken laptop in his hands at you. “Fuck your laptop Zayn! I can’t handle this anymore, any of this!” you cry, turning on your heal to leave. You hear him shove his laptop to the floor before he’s spinning you in his arms to lift you against him and slam you against the wall. “She’s my friend now, I can’t just tell her to back off” Zayn mumbles against your neck, groaning when you dig your nails into his collarbone painfully. “Fuck you Zayn!” you hiss as he pulls your panties from your body and slams into you. “Is someone jealous?” he teases darkly, pulling the skin of your neck between his teeth as he continues to slam into you. “Fuck you” you hiss again, digging your nails into his back as his phone rings in the background. You gasp as he shifts upwards, his name tumbling from your lips as you climax and he quickly follows. “I’ll block her love, if it really makes you that upset” he offers after he’s slid down the wall with you straddling his waist. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to break your laptop” you mumble against his jaw and he chuckles. “It’s just materialistic, as long I don’t break you I don’t really care what you break of mine” he whispers pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. 

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