Larry Stylinson One-Shots

Angst: Refers to a genre of stories with prevalent physical or, mainly, emotional torment of characters.

Smut: A writting style that is sexually explicit. Erotic fiction.

Fluff: A fanfiction in which the story has no plot. Only humourous or romantic nonsense.


20. #19

Title: Connect Four by homoeroticharry on Tumblr

Summary: Heres a fluffy one shot about acne. tehehe

Word count: idek🙍

"I look gross, Lou," Harry moaned, peering into the mirror at his pockmarked face.

"Far from it, babe," Louis said, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"But look at my face!" Harry protested, smoothing his fingers over the skin of his cheek.

"Hazza…" Louis sighed, resting his chin on the younger boy’s shoulder.

"What?" Harry replied absently, eyes zeroing in on an emerging blemish.

"Your face is beautiful." Louis said, kissing Harry’s neck and caressing the skin of his belly.

"No," Harry whined, leaning back into Louis’ touch and moving his hair down over his forehead to cover a zit.

"I’m breaking out everywhere," he continued. "Even on my back and chest. Its so disgusting, I seriously wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to have sex with me again."

"Harry, stop. You’re overreacting," Louis consoled, stroking the skin below Harry’s bellybutton soothingly.

"No, seriously, Lou, I am so gross," Harry tried to twist out of Louis’ grasp to point at his back. "Look at that. Do you see that? That is repulsive!"

Louis frowned and squinted at Harry’s back. “Uh, no Haz, I don’t…” He trailed off, raising an eyebrow.

"What? You don’t?" Harry questioned, twisting to look in the mirror. "Right there. See that red thing?" He pointed out.

"Uh, babe. That’s a bug bite…" Louis reminded his boyfriend, skimming his fingers over the bump. "Remember you got that two nights ago when we were fulfilling your ‘rooftop sex’ fantasy?"

“Oh. Right. Yeah,” Harry blushed. “But still. I look gross. Two nights ago is probably the last time you’ll ever fuck me and I didn’t even know it. Dammit.” He cursed, leaning back into Louis once more and sighing heavily.

"You are crazy, you know that? One, because if you think our sex life is going to suffer because of a few blemishes, and two ‘cause you’re naked right now because I just finished fucking you.” Louis said, kissing Harry’s shoulder.

"Oh yeah… That was good, by the way. Really good." Harry nodded absently.

"Yeah it was. And I’ll give you a repeat show later if you get dressed because we have an interview to get to." Louis pulled away and gently slapped Harry’s bare butt, heading out of the bathroom and into their bedroom.

"Mmf." Harry said when Louis left the room, examining his face again quickly before he turned and left as well.


Throughout the entire interview, Harry kept fidgeting in his seat, adjusting his hair to cover his forehead, pressing his fingers against his temple where he could feel an emerging pimple, trying to hide the red spot. He refused to make eye contact, kept his head ducked except when it was absolutely necessary that he answer a question. Louis noticed every movement Harry made, cataloged his every effort to hide his face.

It was true Harry was breaking out a lot more recently, but he’s a teenager and it happens. He was also under immense pressure for his young age, and there’s no way the stress couldn’t get to him without a few side effects.

Louis noticed the change in Harry’s complexion but didn’t care, he didn’t mind the blemishes, Harry was sexy no matter what. He knew the younger boy was incredibly self conscious about the way his skin looked, always going out to buy new soaps and scrubs, begging their makeup artist for ‘subtle concealer’ that he could use so no one would know he was wearing it. Louis caught him dabbing it on his face more than once and Harry would blush furiously, hiding the palette behind his back and making weak excuses. His efforts to disguise his skin were almost more embarrassing than the breakouts themselves, and Harry would often bury his face in Louis’ shirt and hide from view.

It made Louis sad, the way Harry felt the need to hide his beautiful face, but no matter what Louis said or did, Harry refused to believe him that it was fine. He would take Louis’ encouragement and ride that high for an hour or so, then he would go onto twitter and see what people were saying about him and plummet to the ground again.

It was heartbreaking for both of them, mostly because the endless working was making it worse, and the constant influx of face washes weren’t helping at all. It was difficult for Louis to watch Harry get so upset about his appearance, and it was hard for Harry to feel so low about himself.

It was even worse because the other boys teased him about it, poked fun at the emerging pimples and mocked his squirming and fidgeting. Harry would laugh it off like it meant nothing, but when him and Louis were alone he would reveal just how much it bothered him. He made Louis swear not to say anything though, he didn’t want the rest of the boys to think of him as a wimp. It killed him but Louis did it, kept his mouth shut when Harry would fake a laugh and make an excuse to leave the room.

Like now, as the interview was long ago wrapped up and they were settled in the van, Harry curled into Louis’ side, his long arms wrapped tight around the older boys waist.

“Hey Harry,” Zayn said, his voice laced with taunts just waiting to roll off his tongue.

“What?” Harry grumbled, pressing closer to Louis.

Zayn lifted a hand and traced his finger over the back of Harry’s neck, trailing it down into the dip where Harry’s shirt was pulled to the side.

“Do you have the chicken pox or something?” he teased, flicking one of the red bumps on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry chuckled and Louis could feel how forced it was and it sickened him, he wanted nothing more than to reach out and slap Zayn upside the head.

“Yeah, if you don’t clear that up you’ll get shingles when you’re older,” Niall joined in, giggling.

Harry shifted and pressed his face to Louis’ neck, and the older boy felt how hot his boyfriends cheeks had become. Louis lifted a hand and stroked it through Harry’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp in what he hoped was a soothing gesture.

“Hey Lou, does he break out anywhere else?” Niall said with a wink.

“Oh shut up, Niall,” Louis snapped, turning away from the Irish boy. Harry squeezed Louis’ side in thanks, sighing into his neck.

“Oh c’mon Lou, its funny. He looks like one of those kids on the Proactiv commercials. All pockmarked and red,” Zayn smirked, laughing devilishly.

“You could play connect the dots on his face!” Niall snickered evilly.

Harry whimpered quietly, not loud enough for the other boys to hear him and Louis’ heart broke a little more in his chest. He could feel the anger bubbling up inside him, curling and twisting in his stomach, ready to reach out and grab Zayn and Niall by the neck.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you,” He commanded, voice like venom.

“Jeez Lou, who peed in your cheerios?” Niall grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“You idiots did, so shove it,” He snapped.

“God Lou, we’re just playing, calm down.” Zayn rolled his eyes.

“No, you’re being assholes, and I’m tired of putting up with it. One more word out of either of you about any of this shit, and I swear to god I’ll-”

“Okay, we get the gist, calm down, god,” Niall snapped, leaning back in his seat.

“I will not calm down!” Louis fumed, pulling Harry closer.

“Lou,” the younger boy spoke up, lifting his head from the crook of Louis’ neck. “Its okay,” He whispered.

“No, its not-”

“Louis,” Harry cut him off quietly, pressing his hand against the older boy’s chest. “I said its okay,” he repeated.

Louis sighed and tried to ignore the three sets of eyes on them, watching their quiet exchange with guarded interest.

“Alright,” He breathed, leaning his head back on the headrest. “Okay,” He said.

“Thank you,” Harry said, kissing him quickly.

“I’m sorry,” Louis whispered into the younger boy’s hair, trying to keep his attention focused solely on him.

“Don’t worry,” Harry soothed, fitting his hand underneath the fabric of Louis’ jumper, scratching lightly at his belly. It felt wrong, Louis being comforted by Harry, when it should be the other way around.

Louis felt sick, he knew how upset the state of his skin made Harry, how much worse it was when his bandmates poked fun at him. He had held the younger boy while he tried not to cry, he’d seen how sad he got and it killed him. He felt better for standing up for him, but he also felt terrible because Harry had asked him not to.

He knew what would happen once they arrived home, Harry would pretend to be fine and slip off to their room, claiming he needed a nap. He would emerge an hour later, face red and eyes puffy and curl up next to Louis on the couch without a word. They wouldn’t talk, Louis knew from experience that he wouldn’t be able to get any information out of the younger boy for a little while. It would come while they were eating dinner or getting ready for bed, the private confessions would tumble out of Harry’s mouth so quickly and so quietly it was like the words were afraid they would lose their chance. Louis would pull him close and let him get it all out, and he would wait until Harry had calmed down a little before kissing his tears away and telling him how perfect he was. They would stay up late, talking well into the night and eventually Harry would fall asleep, emotionally drained.

It didn’t happen this way, however. As soon as Louis pushed their door open, Harry stumbled in and collapsed against the older boy’s chest, tears spilling out the corners of his eyes and racing each other down his cheeks. He nuzzled his face against Louis’ shirt, hiding it from view. Louis tugged them over to the couch and flopped down, pulling Harry up into his lap and settling him against his neck.

“Shh,” Louis soothed, rubbing Harry’s back and running a hand through his hair, “its okay,” he murmured quietly.

Harry just sobbed louder into his chest, clutching at his sweater and hiccuping brokenly. Louis was a little startled, Harry didn’t usually get this worked up. He pushed it aside and kissed Harry’s temple, trying to calm him down.

“You’re okay love,” Louis cooed, slipping a hand underneath Harry’s shirt and rubbing wide circles with the palm of his hand. “You’re fine, you’re so fine,” He said a little desperately, trying to lace Harry back together.

The younger boy was struggling for breath now, choking on air and pawing at Louis’ chest. A violent sob broke from his throat and he trembled with it, his body shaking with the force of his sobs.

Louis just pulled him closer, murmuring into his ear quietly. “Just let it out, Hazza, its okay,” He said, kissing his forehead. “Just let it out, I’m right here,” he whispered.

“I-I-,” Harry choked, the words catching in the back of his throat. Louis leaned closer, trying to catch the quiet words Harry was trying to say.

“You what baby?” He asked, straining to make out the words.

“I- I can’t, I-,” He sobbed, gasping for breath.

“Its okay, you don’t have to talk right now, its fine,” Louis shushed, pressing his lips against the top of Harry’s head and speaking into his hair. Harry curled up tighter, pressing his body closer to Louis’.

“L-Lou, I-” Harry sobbed again, lifting his face and locking eyes with Louis. The older boy gasped quietly, the normally cheerful green eyes he loved were staring back at him with desperation in them, tinged with fear at the edges. He looked absolutely tortured, his cheeks tear stained and eyes unusually bright because of the tears.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” He whispered into the younger boy’s hair, not wanting him to get even more upset because he couldn’t get his words out.

“No, no, I-” He tried again, eyes welling up with fresh tears.

“Breathe, Hazza,” Louis commanded gently. Harry inhaled sharply and Louis shook his head. “Slow,” He reminded and Harry tried again, breathing in slowly and deeply, his breath catching only a few times.

“Good boy,” Louis praised, kissing him on the nose. “Do it again for me,”

Harry inhaled again, shuddering, and breathed out through his nose heavily. His eyes began to flood again and closed them, breathing in so his belly expanded with the effort.

“Good Hazza, you’re doing so good,” Louis murmured, brushing Harry’s hair back from his forehead. “What were you trying to say to me before?” He asked gently, unwilling to set Harry off again.

Harry just shook his head and buried his face in Louis’ neck again, fresh tears spilling over. Louis felt him breathe in again, centering himself. He pulled away to look Harry in the eyes and kissed him gently, pressing his lips softly against Harry’s in a short kiss.

“Just tell me when you’re ready, darling.” He soothed, rubbing a hand over Harry’s back. The younger boy sniffled against him, blinking slowly.

“Yeah, you’re okay,” Louis said into Harry’s hair, stroking it softly. Harry nodded against his neck and sighed heavily, breathing deeply.

“I’m sorry,” He choked out, whispering the words quietly against Louis’ skin.

“Oh honey, its okay, don’t be sorry,” Louis cooed, “You have nothing to be sorry about,”

Harry sniffled quietly. “Promise?” He whispered.

Louis smiled sadly against his hair. “Promise,” he swore. Harry sighed and lifted his head, looking up at Louis.

“I made your jumper all gross,” He mumbled, scrubbing at his face to get rid of the tear stains.

“I can wash it,” Louis chuckled, ruffling Harry’s hair. “Do you want me to get you a tissue?” He offered, kissing Harry’s cheek delicately.

Harry nodded, shifting his body back into the couch so Louis could get up. As soon as Louis came back, Harry crawled back onto his lap and settled in comfortably, taking the tissue from Louis and pawing at his face.

“Here, let me do it,” Louis said, taking the tissue from Harry’s hand and brushing it lightly underneath each eye, kissing the skin there after he moved the tissue. He dried his reddened cheeks as well, peppering the skin with soft kisses. “Much better,” He claimed, tossing the tissue behind him and pulling Harry to his chest.

“Thank you.” Harry whimpered, resting his head against Louis’ chest, listening to his heartbeat. Louis just hummed in response, carding his fingers through the younger boy’s hair, letting him settle.

“They’re so mean,” Harry said after a long while.

“I know, baby.” Louis agreed, nodding sadly.

“Its not fair, Lou. I can’t help it that my skin looks this way.” Harry mumbled.

“I know its not. They’re just assholes, you need to ignore them.”

Harry sighed. “But its so hard to ignore them…”

“I know, darling. But you’ve just got to try,” Louis said, nuzzling into Harry’s hair.

“I am trying. But I already feel so ugly anyway that I can’t help but listen to them.” Harry admitted quietly, hanging his head.

“Oh god, Harry,” Louis breathed, shifting so him and Harry were eye to eye. “You are the farthest thing from ugly. The very farthest thing, I promise.”

Harry ducked his head. “I just… I feel so ugly. Everybody is saying stuff about it- the stuff on twitter and those stupid gossip websites… it makes me feel like shit.” He mumbled.

“Hazza…” Louis murmured, scratching the younger boy’s scalp softly.

“I know, I know. We’ve had this conversation before, I shouldn’t look at that stuff cause it makes me upset, but sometimes I can’t help it. I don’t mean to see it, it just happens. And then Zayn and Niall make it so much worse…” he trailed off, biting his lip.

Louis stomach churned painfully; sometimes he hated his bandmates.

“And it just makes me think about stuff I don’t want to think about, like… with you, and stuff, and its so hard for me, and-”

“Wait,” Louis said, cutting Harry off. “What kind of stuff with me? What do you mean?”

“Its just… I try really hard and like, this kind of… I just get worried.” Harry whispered, tugging on his shirt.

“Elaborate, please?” Louis requested, kissing Harry’s forehead.

“I just… I try to look nice for you, okay? I try to wear clothes I know you like and I go to the gym so I look good for you, and I do my hair the way you like and stuff because I don’t know, I like it, I like to look good for you, and then… then I break out and I feel so ugly, and- and I feel like if I’m ugly you won’t, like, want me and stuff, and you won’t want to kiss me and have sex with me, and-” He stopped, hanging his head.

“Oh Hazza,” Louis said sadly, wrapping his arms tightly around the younger boy’s waist.

“Its really embarrassing, but… I actually, genuinely worry that you’ll think I’m ugly and you won’t want to have sex with me,” He bit his lip, embarrassed. “Like, its shallow of me to worry about, but I like sex. I like sex with you.”

“Come here, angel.” Louis commanded softly, adjusting Harry so they were exactly face to face. Harry looked up at him, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, lip caught between his teeth.

“You’re so silly,” he whispered, leaning forward and catching Harry in a soft kiss. “Do you honestly think I could ever think you’re ugly?” He asked, catching Harry’s eye.

“Um…” Harry said, looking away.

“Harry, c’mon. I think you are the most beautiful boy in the world, and I hope you know that a few pimples isn’t going to change that.” He promised.

“But…” Harry started, and Louis shook his head.

“No buts. You are stunning baby, I’ve always thought that and I will always think that. I literally love everything about you and the way you look. You are so beautiful to me, okay?”

Harry sighed and leaned into Louis’ chest. “So you don’t want to stop fucking me?” he mumbled pathetically.

“God no!” Louis laughed, grinning down at Harry. “Have I ever told you just how beautiful you are when we have sex?”

Harry blushed, thinking about all the times Louis has told him how gorgeous he is in bed. “Maybe…”

“I love you sweetheart, you know that. I think you’re beautiful, and you’re a fantastic shag,” He deadpanned, trying to make Harry laugh. It worked and Harry giggled, grinning stupidly.

“You could grow three heads and I’d still want to fuck you, basically.” Louis stated.

Harry laughed again and pulled him into a kiss, smiling against his lips. “I love you, Louis,” He said, sighing happily.

“I love you more, beautiful boy,” Louis said back, kissing him in the nose.

“Hey Lou…” Harry singsonged after a few quiet moments.

“Yeah?” Louis said, a little suspiciously.

“Remember what you said this morning? About a repeat showing?” Harry grinned.

“I’ll race you to the bedroom.”



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