Punk One Direction One Shots

Louis for Gabi

I quite enjoyed the simple things in life: punk bands and coffee shops. I don’t ask for much, just those two things and I’ll be fine. The door to the campus coffee shop opened sending in a gust of cold November air. I like this season too.

In strutted, oh how I loved the way he walked, was Louis Tomlinson. Everyone knew who he was, but not in the “He’s such a nice guy” sense, it was the “Stay away he’d dangerous” sense. I personally found that to be quite attractive, but then again, I wasn’t little miss innocent either. Stirring the latte in front of me, I tried to seem like I wasn’t affected by his presence in the shop. He was rather hard to miss.

Louis leaned on his hip at the counter in a pair of skin tight black jeans. His ass was tight and I’m sure me and every gay male in the area was drooling. He turned his head, observing the crowd, his eyes a cold unforgiving blue. They settled on me, by myself, all alone at the table, and made his way toward me.

“Gabi, is it?” he purred taking a seat. I nodded not knowing what to say. “I’m sure you know who I am.”

“Louis.” I mumbled feeling bashful all of a sudden. Well fuck, I thought, I’m in love.

The next weekend the same thing happened, this time Louis bought me my latte. The weekend after that he invited me there “just because this kept happening, repeating, developing into a ritual of hormones. He’d walk me home, invite himself in, and fall asleep on my couch.  

I’d wake up to find a couple of other lads in my living room, most likely part of his gang that needed a place to crash for the night. I was fine with it though, because it meant seeing him. I knew that I loved Louis, I knew that when he kissed me it meant something, when we had sex it was more, it was love. I knew this, but to him, I don’t think he cared.

“Morning sweet cheeks!” he smirked to me, standing by the kettle clad in his boxers.

I didn’t say anything, still sore from last night. “Did I go to rough, fuck buddy?” he laughed bumping my hip.

Fuck buddy. That’s all I was to him. “Leave Louis.” I choked out throwing his ripped skinny jeans at him. “Get the hell out of my flat! Don’t come back, don’t talk to me ever again, if you see me, assume I’m with someone else!” I screamed, trying my best not to cry.

“Gabi, what? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You!” I screamed pointing an accusing finger his direction. “You just use me, and I can’t handle it. I’m in love with you and you just fuck with me.” I felt my chest clench and heave, the hot tears flowing down my cheeks.

“Gabi, I,...” he trailed off staring down at his bare feet.

“You what Louis?” I helplessly asked, feeling overly emotional.

 “I’m scared.” He confessed his eyes meeting mine. “I don’t know these feelings I have inside. The weird warm tingly feeling when I kiss you, or the familiar, comforting tightness I get when I’m inside you, I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what it is when you laugh, when you smile, when you sing off key in the shower to Fall Out Boy, I don’t know these feelings, and that’s fucking terrifying to me.”

By the end Louis sounded to the point of tears and I found myself hugging onto to his small build. “That’s love Louis. I feel the same way about you.”

“Love?” he squeaked.

“Love.” I confirmed loving his scared little boy reaction. “But don’t worry, we’ll be just fine, I’ll take care of us.”