Hello lovely! 💙 can you write a One Direction preference where he gets an upset stomach and is really sick and needs you to take care of him??? Thank you xxx
Harry: “-And a cup of water… please.” He said, eyes filled with a plea that had already been said, out of the kindness his mother had taught him to behold. Harry was laying in bed arms crossed over his stomach light spots of sweat running over the sides of his forehead. “-I told you not to eat eleven out of twelve cupcakes but ‘no game no win’”. You impersonated his words with a movement of quotation on your fingers, too much chocolate often left him like this, stomachache and a frown plastered on his face. “-I regret nothing.” He began but a hiss made its way pass his lips. “… And a warm blanket.” You couldn’t help but smile at his silliness and bent forward, placing a kiss on his cheek. “-And a kiss.” You whispered.
Liam: He wasn’t easy to get sick. It were counted the times since you had met him that you had heard him say “I’m not feeling so great.” So when you came back home to find him wrapped around in sheets at the living room’s couch with glittery eyes you dropped your bags at the entrance and sat by his side wrapping your arms around his waist. “-What do you want me to do?
What do you need, Li?
” You murmured near his collarbones, already making a mental list of the medicines you had under one of the kitchen counters and of everything you knew about sick stomachs. Liam smiled briefly, a palpable contrast to the way he was feeling. “-Just you, [Y/N]. I think you’re all I’ll ever need.”
Louis: “-I am not ever again letting you convince me of eating popcorn and caramel ice cream together. And I mean EVER.” You laughed as he walked from one place to another trying to calm his belly with a pretty desperate manner. “-What are you talking about? I’m feel fine! And it tasted soooo good.” Louis eyes you with not a tiny hint of joy on his face so you went on. “You just have a weak stomach, that’s all.” He opened his mouth to protest but ended up frowning. “-I DO NOT have a weak stomach and I’m going to prove that to you the moment I get out of the bathroom.” With nothing else to add Louis turned his back in a race and headed to the hallway as your laughs followed him through the entire way.
Niall: “Ni? Are you in there? Is everything all right?” It has been 20 minutes since he had said he was going to the toilet so you started to worry that it might have swallowed him whole and now he would be lost in the middle of the sea with not a clue on what to do. “-Yeah… I’m okay…”
Niall said with a shaky voice that came out of some place over your right, where his bed used to be. You turned to find him wrapped around the blankets with an arm covering his face. With concern you walked towards him, sliding by his side and fixing your body over his so they fit like locker and key. With a hand against his chest, breathing matching his you talked sweetly “-You little douche, I told you not to eat that second burger but nooo ‘It’s ‘aight darleng that’s a peece of cake fer me stomach’.” He laughed at your vague imitation of him, kissing the top of your head as you caressed the sides of his shoulders. “-I know, I know… I’m still hungry, though.”
Zayn: Like he did with almost everything, Zayn slept his way out of his sickness, and stomach pain was no different. So you, being the sleepy head you were whenever near him took your place right next to his almost motionless body and got lost in oblivion, feeling the warmth of his skin below your fingertips, the roughness of his clothes touching under your palms, the softness of his hair caressing your shoulders. “-Feeling better, pretty boy?” Your hands found their way to his shoulders giving them affectionate treats. He smiled at the sound of your voice and tugged you closer to him, his smell invading your senses. “-I think I’m about to be.”
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Thank you soooo very much to the anon for the request it came out really fast and I loved to write it!
Something happens in a daydream. A hand
trails over skin like sunlight. Outside
there’s sin, and the calls of a lost city.
A city dipped like an ochre-dawn. In quiet
moments, your breath is on mine, like
salvation; like forgiveness. But in time,
names for love elude us. We breathe in dirt
and cough up bones, until a new world,
like the birth of a star, is raked across
your skin. Now leaving is all I have.
Unlike memories. Unlike your mouth.