Louis Tomlinson Imagines

Sweet and Shower

Credit : we were meant to be but twist of fate on tumblr

“Ripped gloves, raincoat, tried to swim to stay afloat,” I sang softly to myself, letting the tepid shower water pour over me. Normally my showers were much warmer but I’d just gone for a long run and couldn’t stand the thought of more heat. Not yet.

I always ran to clear my head. It had been a long week, made longer because Louis wasn’t here. He had a way with himself, and a way with me, that always made the days seem shorter. Happier. Better. But he was gone, still with the lads somewhere up north for the tour. Our bed was empty without him, cavernous, uninviting. I longed for his warmth next to me, even if he was just lying there, asleep. Even though he always managed to hog all the bedsheets for himself, always kicked me in his sleep, always threw his arm around my waist at four in the morning to hold me close. I smiled at the memory, touching my waist where his hand would go.

Then I removed my hand quickly, reaching for my shampoo. This was the reason I had gone for a run–to stop thinking about Louis and how much I missed him. He’d be gone for much longer when they left for America; I’d have plenty of time for self-pity then. Besides, he was supposed to be gone for only two more days. I could hold out.

We texted all the time. Today I had gotten a bit…carried away. I couldn’t help it; he had been gone for five days and I ached to feel him again. It started off with a teasing pic of my cleavage, in the maroon top of mine that he loved so much. He’d begged for more, and though I hadn’t sent any more pictures, I had let him know just what I was doing, while thinking about him. Texting wasn’t the same, but I felt closer to him when I did. Afterward, I’d gone for a run, to get my mind off of the man who would be absent from my bed tonight. I squeezed a dollop of shampoo into my hand and began scrubbing vigorously.

“Sneaks out in the middle of the night, yeah, tight dress with the top cut low,” I sang louder, my mind jumping to the first peppy song that popped into my head. Of course it was one of the boys’ songs–what else? I couldn’t escape them, and I didn’t want to. And it was one of my favorite songs of theirs. I started bouncing on my heels, keeping tempo with a small head bob as I rinsed the shampoo from my hair. “And when I tell her I can’t take it no more, she’s back at my door…” I sang, my favorite part. Zayn’s voice was so soft and sultry there.

“She’s not afraaiiiiiiiid–” I belted, but my voice died in my throat. Someone else was singing, too, someone with a much better singing voice than me.

“She’s not afraid of scary movies! She likes the way we kiss in the shower–”

I screamed, my voice ripping through the humid air of the bathroom. I heard laughter, and stopped screaming. I yanked the shower curtain back enough for my head to poke out. Louis was sitting on the countertop, his face split into an enormous grin, his hands clapped over his ears to block out my shrill scream.

“LOUIS!” I screeched, tightening my grip on the shower curtain to shield my body from his view. He wasn’t supposed to be here for two days! And he just shows up while I was in the shower? I didn’t know whether to kiss him or smack him.

He lowered his hands from his ears, now jumping to his feet. “Y/n, why the fuck would you say you have a shitty voice?” he asked, his voice characteristically too loud for indoors.

“How long were you there?” I demanded, feeling myself blush. I had never let Louis hear me sing. Honestly I didn’t care what he thought, because I knew that even if I sounded like a dying febrile cat, he would say it was beautiful. He was too sweet like that. But he was Louis, of One Direction; Simon Cowell had told him he could sing. I would never be that good.

“Long enough. You sound better than when Niall is drunk and sings to his food.”

I had opened my mouth to tell him off, but I couldn’t resist a laugh. “Wow, that sounds like a serious compliment.”

“It is.” Louis stripped off his shirt, exposing his new chest tattoos that I still couldn’t get enough of. Then he started unbuckling his skinny jeans.

I raised my eyebrows. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like, love?” he asked as he peeled off his skinny jeans. His eyes narrowed as he approached the shower. “Oh baby, I’m so wet for you,” he quoted.

I squealed, my face flushing with embarrassment. Yes, I had texted those things to Louis, but I had expected them to remain on a screen, not spoken aloud. “Don’t you dare!”

“Louis, oh God, I need you inside me.” He pulled off his briefs, exposing his thick erection. He pushed back the shower curtain forcefully, surveying my nakedness. I tried to keep my eyes on his, but my gaze kept dropping to his erect cock. Five days. Five long days without him.

Louis kept going, his voice now low, hoarse. “Fuck me, Louis, I want you to fuck me.” My eyes rose to meet his, which were now hardened with lust. He stepped into the shower, backing me up against the wall. Shampoo bottles clattered to the floor, but neither of us noticed. I moaned softly, unconsciously, as he neared me, my fingers finding his pulsing length and closing around it.

Now his arms were on either side of me, preventing me from escaping, even if I wanted to. He leaned forward, his cock slipping between my thighs, wet from the shower. His head lowered until his mouth was hovering near my ear. “I want you to fuck me so hard, Louis. I want you to make me scream.”

My lips were trembling in anticipation as I stared up at him. The steam from the shower was rising behind him, and water was coursing down his shoulders. “I’m gonna make you scream, Y/n. Scream until you lose your voice.”

I did. My screams continued all night, from the shower, to the bedroom, to once in the kitchen. When I woke up, my throat was sore, as were my thighs. Sunlight was streaming through the windows. I felt a slight chill and realized I was still naked. Then I looked over, and realized Louis had managed to hog all the bedsheets for himself.

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xx.

(A/n : This one is actually sweet , funny and kinky. )