*Requested* BSM Preference: You have really bad anxiety, but management makes you hide it from him. (Liam Payne & Niall Horan) (Part 2)
*Request: “Can you do a part two of the anxiety bsm and maybe like you get an email from management after they found out that you told him and you have a huge full blown panic attack and he walks in on it”.-Anonymous*
You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t do anything. Your hands lie motionless on your laptop as you read the email over and over again. In their own twisted way, Modest! had threatened you.
You were sitting beside Liam at the moment, and while he was on the phone with modest! himself, you felt your control slipping away, your breathing becoming so labored you began to feel lightheaded. Your laptop slipped off your lap and slammed into the ground, gaining Liam’s attention as you scrambled after it, breathing labored, eyes wide, and hands shaking so bad you ended up dropping it again.
Hanging up and pulling you into his arms so fast you never recalled it even happening, he pulled your knees up closer to you, forced you to place your head between them and gently rubbed your back.
You couldn’t calm down, your breathing wouldn’t slow and you were feeling so lightheaded you began swaying back into him.
“You need to breathe.” He said, his voice strained as he tried to stay calm himself.
It took you a while to do what he said. It was almost as if your body refused to calm down no matter hard you tried, but eventually you felt your control over yourself coming back, and after a few more minutes you sat there, silently crying as different thoughts of what could have happened came to mind.
“It will be okay.” He muttered, visibly relaxing once you had calmed down. “I’ll handle it.”
It was obvious that your parents telling Niall about your anxiety only made you more anxious and on edge. All of you, Niall included, were expecting some form of communication from modest! especially after his little call down to their office. The only thing you didn’t expect was for it to come to you.
You were with your tutor, one hired by modest! because they basically owned you, checking your email while he got some of your work graded, when you saw the email. It was simple and straight to the point. The underlying message they were giving off was obvious: Let anyone know about this and your anxiety would be the least of your worries. They were threatening Liam’s career, something he worked so hard for, and almost immediately your heart began to beat faster and faster.
You had been doing so good before, and just the thought of having another attack only made your body react worse. Soon your heart felt as if it was skipping beats, a feeling almost like a cold sweat seemed to wash over you, and your breathing began coming out in short gasps.
Your tutor must have heard you, or had been watching you as you read the email, because he quickly stood up and made his way over.
“You need to relax. There is no time for you to be having another attack!” All previous kindness he showed you was gone as he glared down at you.
This only made you worse and he continued to yell at you as if it were helping. His yelling must have gained Niall’s attention, because suddenly he was downstairs, and the room was filled with their yells. Your vision started to darken around the edges, and your heart was fluttering so bad you were sure you were going to die.
Something happened after that moment, and in your current state you could only recall seeing your tutor leave, Niall rocking you back and forth, and then everything was almost normal.
It took a few hours for you to fully calm down, but eventually you did and let Niall take care of you until your parents came home.
I have no idea how to write a panic attack (or any action for that matter) but I tried and even did my research! Thanks for requesting and reading and I hope you enjoy!
Louis and Harry’s part 2 will be up tomorrow unless something comes up!
•Lip biting (I mean…obvi)
•Brushing his hands up and down your sides and arms
•Discrete neck kisses
•Nipping at your shoulder
•Sliding his hand in your back pocket
•Running his hand up your thigh
•Burying his nose in your arm and taking deep breaths
•"You can wait"
•"Babe if you looked in a mirror you’d see why I can’t"
•Pushing his hands up your shirt
•Thumbing your bra strap when he can see it
•"Babe calm dow-“ *kiss* “kissing me won’t make me want to go home sooner”
•Sighs in relief when you say you’re reading to leave
•Squeezing your thigh as he drives
•Pushing you against the door the second you get inside
•Pulling your lip between his teeth
•Almost ripping your panties
•Lots and lots of pounding with your legs slung over his shoulders
•"I can’t decide if this was worth the wait or not but God you feel soooo gooood”
•Tugging your hair and scratching down his back
•Even after you both come he clings to you while you sleep
•"It was worth the wait. You’re too good to me princess"
Warnings for this chapter: Uh, lots of angst. Annnd it only gets worse from there kiddies. Sanity slippage. Descriptions of sickness/injuries. There is vomiting, nothing graphic but it happens. Reference to past abuse/torture.
Also I went back and added something to the first chapter about Stan’s lighter. It’s not big, but I just wanted there to be consistency for this chapter. I do what I want! Thanks once again to my sister, farfallavendetta, for being a great editor! -
“Come on Stan, wake up,” Ford muttered, desperation creeping into his voice. His brother remained unconscious, chest rising and falling with labored breaths. Everything was silent, save for the rhythmic dripping of water from stalactites. Although Stan was unconscious, Ford knew he wasn’t alone. Those eyes watched his every move, as if observing an entertaining stage play. Ford felt the bubble of terror expand within him, his mind quaking with the darkness that lurked at its edges.
“No, no, no… n-not yet…” he whispered to himself, and partly to whatever was listening. He could not allow himself to succumb to the darkness yet, not when Stan was in such dire straits. Learning to compartmentalize, ignore, and disassociate thoughts was something he had learned to do throughout the course of his research into the supernatural. It had proved a valuable defense mechanism on more than one occasion. So he did that now, sinking into himself, concentrating on repressing his dread at the abominations sliding over the ceiling. It wouldn’t last that long, a part of him knew madness was rising like high tide in his mind. He focused his thoughts on Stan. Your brother needs you. Help him now. That’s the most important thing.
So I went to see Star Trek today and I have a lot of feelings none of which haven’t been expressed more eloquently by other people but that’s not what this post is about
So I was getting ready to leave and I was reading Felicia Day’s comments about the lack of lady characters in it and someone had commented, “What about the lady who replaces Chekov after he gets redshirted?”
And let me just tell you I had the biggest heart attack because REDSHIRTED and CHEKOV and I desperately went searching for spoilers and when I couldn’t find anything I just went to see it and JESUS CHRIST MAN DON’T THROW OUT TERMS LIKE ‘REDSHIRTED’ WHEN YOU JUST MEAN 'PROMOTED’ THAT’S REALLY NOT FUNNY DON’T PLAY ME LIKE THAT