The Ten-Year Plan

Ten years ago, Makayla Morris was in love with Niall Horan.

He was nineteen, she was seventeen. Young and dumb, they made a pact. A pact which comes back to haunt Makayla ten years later, when a certain blonde Irishman swoops back into her life and brings surprise in the most unexpected ways.


"Ten years, ten years and I promise. If neither of us are married or are serious about anyone..."
"Ten years?"
"I promise."

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2. 1.

 

 

 

 

 

Ten years ago.

London.

 

 

 

   "Niall!" I yelped, as he tore down the hallway laughing his face off, "You ass!" I spun on my heel and stomped after him. I walked into the living room, seeing him sprawled over the sofa, panting heavily. He grinned at me, shooting me a cheeky wink.

   "What the hell was that?" I demanded.

   "My inept flirting skills," he joked.

   "Urgh, I'm going to strangle you," I scowled, folding my arms over my chest. He beamed up at me, gesturing me closer. I walked over as he sat up, before he wrapped his arms quickly around my waist and tugged me into his lap.

   "Gotta catch me first, don't you sweetheart?" he teased in a sweet voice, leaning closer.

   "Gotcha," I murmured quietly, wrapping my arms around his neck. Our lips hovered close to each other, but I moved mine away at the last second. "Really though, if that's how you act around my friends then you are never going to meet my parents."

   "Babe please," he sighed, "I'm charming, I've got nothing to worry."

   "You need to get over yourself."

   "I don't think that's the problem," he replied, cocking an eyebrow. I leaned back.

   "Yeah? What do you think it is then?" I asked.

   "I need to get over you more often," he teased. My mouth hung open, before I shut it tightly, aware of how instantly warm my face felt. He laughed loudly, running a hand through his hair. "You're too easy to tease, babe."

   "You keep that up and you won't getting over anything any time soon," I scowled, smacking his arm. He chuckled, tugging me closer to him and placing a light kiss to my lips.

   "Ah, I always manage to somehow. It's the Irish charms."

   "Did you just nickname your genitals?" I asked in disbelief. "OK, no. I have homework to do, I'm gonna-"

   "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded, yanking me back into his lap before I could escape. "Come on babe, you've been so busy recently. I just wanna spend time with you."

   "If that translates to 'I wanna fuck you' then a later time can be arranged," I pointed out.

   "No, well- I don't mean that I don't wanna f- Mickey," he tried to reason, with a small shy smile that he knew made me wobbly at the knees. Damn him and his freaking perfect face.

   "What, Niall?" I sighed, giving in and sitting in his lap. One of his arms around my waist, the other on my leg, fingers drawing tantalising circles into my thigh clearly intending to distract me.

   "As much as I would like to arrange a later time, I'll do that later," he bit cheekily. His hand at my waist brushed the edge of my shirt aside, brushing against the bare skin. "But I've been busy of late, and you know rehearsals for tour start soon too...I missed you."

   "I missed you too," I replied earnestly, cupping one of his cheeks in my hand and running my thumb over it gently. "Even that stupid, cocky attitude of yours."

   "You love all of me," he said triumphantly and rather gloatingly, going in for another kiss. I let him this time, slip his tongue into my mouth and explore hungrily and needily. He was a heavenly kisser.

   Not to mention, a smooth mover.

   In a few moments, I was suddenly lying down on the couch with him pressed against me fumbling with my shirt.

   "Niall, N-" I got cut off abruptly as his lips lowered to my neck, nipping the tender skin. "Oh- Niall! Stop it! Niall!"

   "Are you playing hard to get?" he asked curiously, moving his head away and staring up at me. His eyes were darker, full of hunger and lust. I needed to get some food into him.

   "No," I said furiously blushing, as I struggled to sit up. "But we're not doing this on my couch."

   "We could go to your bed."

   "I'm not in the mood," I lied though my teeth.

   "I could get you in the mood," he said, suggestively wriggling his eyebrows and making me laugh. "Nah, it's alright. I didn't bring anything anyway."

   He rolled off me and lay down beside me, wrapping his arms around my waist and bringing me close to him. I stared up at his gorgeous face, the glittering blue eyes staring down at me, pale lips in a tiny smile. So close to mine. The warmth of his body was like a summer glow, enveloping me.

   "I was just thinking," he spoke abruptly, breaking the silence that had ensued while I blatantly checked him out. "What your kids would look like." I blinked in surprise, not sure how he'd arrived at that exact point.

   "My kids?" I repeated as his fingers traced light shapes into my arm, leaving the skin tingling. "I don't have kids, silly."

   "I know," he replied, his set of teeth showing. Closer, they were still a little crooked. I liked them when they were like that though, it was so much more Niall-esque. What the hell. I should keep that to myself. "If you did though, I reckon they'd be the best looking kids."

   "Yeah? How dyou reckon?" I asked, bemused.

   "Well it's you," he said with a shrug, "Of course your kids are going to be beautiful." I thought for a moment, letting my mind wander.

   "I've always wanted...kids."

   "Yeah? How many?"

   "I don't know," I answer, "Not too many, but not an only child. I always saw myself with one five year old kid before having another one. Maybe two. Maybe three.." I realised abruptly that while I was rambling on about children like a pedophile, he was watching me intently. He had propped his head up on his hand, gazing down at me with a small smile.

   "What?" he asked, wondering why I'd stopped speaking.

   "I- sorry if it freaks you out or anything. Talking about kids," I apologised briefly. He shook his head in response, but that was it. Sometimes, he was intensely confusing. "Do you? Want kids, that is?" He pondered for a moment before rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm wearily.

   "I think it'd be nice," he muttered as if secretly mortified by the thought of it.

   "Mini-Niall," I shot back and he tossed a frown at me. "It would be cute."

   "Shut up," he mumbled, cheeks going pink as though it was deeply emasculating.  I grinned up at him, pecking his cheek lightly. "You'd be a good mum."

   "How dyou think?"

   "I don't know. Just seems so," he replied thoughtfully, tapping his chin with his finger.

   "I'd have to find someone to have a kid with first though," I pointed out. He held his arms open and looked around blankly. "What?"

   "Er hello?" he said loudly, waving his hands, "Me!" I burst out laughing and shook my head.

   "I mean really Niall," I answered and he frowned.

   "What's the supposed to mean, heh?" he demanded, wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me so I was pressed flush against him. My cheeks redenned as I felt the curves and outlines of every single part of his body.

   "Nothing," I replied pointedly. "Just that I'm seventeen, you're nineteen, there's no way we're having a kid now." He nuzzled his face in the crook of my neck, seemingly deep in thought. When he finally spoke, there was an edge of excitement in his voice.

   "We'll make a plan."

   "What?" I asked, confused. He pulled away to look in the eyes.

   "A plan," he repeated clearly in his husky Irish tone, "If you and me aren't settled or married or have kids in- in...ten years, then we'll have a kid."

   "Together?" I clarified incredulously. He rolled his eyes.

   "Yeah, babe. Together."

   "A kid? In ten years?" I asked, calculating in my head, "I'd be twenty seven and you'd be-"

   "Twenty nine," he finished, nodding, "Ten years is plenty of time."

   "If we're not settled or married or have kids already, we'll have a kid together," I repeated, nodding as well. "A baby."

   "I promise," he said, "Ten years."

   "You promise?" I asked, biting my lip hesitantly. He sighed, disentangling an arm from my waist and holding up his pinky to me- long and crooked.

   "Promise," he vowed seriously and I caught his pinky in mine, wrapping it around his tightly. "Kiss on it." I pressed my lips to the joint and nodded. He did the same, before we let go, watching each other closely, the two of us probably both wondering whether that was wise or not.

   "Well," he said decisively, "Probably best to start immediately."

   "Niall!" I protested weakly as he tugged me onto him, words quenched as he kissed me soft and sweet, hot and warmth; all melting into one.

 

 

 

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