liam payn fanfic


il y a deux cœurs ici (there are two hearts here)

Liam is a bit stunned at the ease that comes with the thought of becoming a father for the second time.

He’s struck with the realisation late one evening, while he’s in the lounge watching telly with his wife. Sat on the sofa with Georgia’s feet in his lap, Liam strokes his fingers along the curve of her ankle with one hand while dragging the nails of his other against the arch of her foot every once in a while—a tease to garner her attention, the result a little kick to flick his hand away that makes him chuckle.

“Stop it, Liam,” Gee fusses at him, squirming, after he’s done it for the fourth or fifth time; he’s lost count. “You’re going to wake him.”

With this, Liam’s grin widens as his eyes come to rest upon Carter, who’s curled up and fast asleep against Georgia.

At twenty-one months, Carter seems massive in Georgia’s grasp, hardly a crumb of the size of what he was at birth. He came just a minute before midnight that twenty-second night in late June, all six pounds, eleven ounces of him—Liam remembers it perfectly. He can hardly believe that in a few short months, his son will be two years old; that after the months to follow those, there will be more little feet to tickle with his thick, calloused fingers; that with Georgia, he is embarking on a brand new adventure as a parent—one that he thinks should be a bit terrifying, given the circumstances, but he is oddly settled. With the news that came with an ultrasound, Liam’s been slowly tripping down the familiar trail of nostalgia, flipping through pages of photo albums that Georgia and his mum have put together in the time since he and Gee wed.

There’s an album in his lap, in fact—one of the few he’s been slowly thumbing through over the course of the evening. He’s yet to open this one, but he does now, and the first photograph on the first page is a polaroid from the day Carter was born. It’s of Liam in Georgia’s room in hospital, stood at the foot of her bed with Carter cradled in his arms.

It’s from the first moment he held his son.

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So this is something I’ve been working on over the weekend. It’s dirty so if you don’t like spanking and dirty talk, this isn’t for you.

WARNING: Mature content

You were being ignored and you were also extremely horny and needy which didn’t go good together. Harry was in the home office doing god knows what and you had barely seen him all day apart from the quick breakfast together this morning and then he had locked himself in those four walls. You had agreed with yourself to give him time to do what he needed and then you would interrupt after a couple hours. You had given him plenty of extra time to deal with business and now you were just growing increasingly impatient by the second. You had checked your emails, read a book, cooked- everything you could think of but nothing could take your mind off the throbbing discomfort between your legs.

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ok um im so sorry like NOAH FENCE but……….  

niall: ey mate, proud of you

harry: why’s that exactly, niall?

niall: last two in the band to not have gotten a girl pregnant!



harry: true!

*nods and highfives*


Originally posted by hothothotgg

Prompt: “Can you write a Harry styles imagine where he wakes you up in the middle of the night with a migraine and he needs you to take care of him because he doesn’t feel good ?? Thanks darling!” -Anon

Word Count: 1,106. 

Ah- Ah- Ah -Ah I’ve got a migraine. There’s a couple tøp references in this heh. Apologies that it’s so short! Wrote this in the hour of free time that I had lol. Thank you for requesting :) I’m slowly moving down my lists of requests now that I got a new laptop! Next one will be a Josh Dun imagine. 

Love to you, Iz xx

Fuck. Harry thinks to himself, green eyes reluctantly opening. He moves to grip his head only to realise his arm is stuck in your firm grasp. Another line of profanities slips from his lips as he edges it out of your arms. You stir slightly before flipping to the other side, a sigh of relief leaving his lips.

Fucking hell this hurts. Harry clutches his head, which is now aching. He knew exactly what was coming on. The discomfort only increases the more he rouses himself. His eyes shut, the pain reverberating throughout the rest of his skull. 

How the hell did this even happen? He didn’t even drink much before going to bed- just a couple wine glasses of wine at his dinner party with Jeff and Glenn.

His free hand pats the bedside table for the glass of water you always made sure to set out in case of instances like this. The migraine picks at him as he gulps down the glass and decides medicine would be the only cure.

The hardwood floor is frigid underneath his feet and Harry reminds himself to start wearing socks to bed; the winter months in London are always unforgiving.

Not wanting to worsen the pain, he is forced to search for the medicine in the dark. His fingers brush over a bottle similar to his usual pain relief bottle so he pours two into his hands. However once the pills touch his palm, his brows furrow. They’re circular instead of the usual capsule-shaped pills. 

He pulls the bottle closer, eyes widening at the label. “Fast Acting Laxatives” reads the jar, causing Harry to yelp and drop it. He was this close to taking two of them. He winces at the sound of hard plastic hitting the floor, knowing several little pills spilt out. 

Why ‘ave we even got these in the first place? Oh shit, wait, yeah. Harry answers his own question, thinking back to the time he pranked Louis back by crushing one and putting it into his drink. Serves Louis right though, no one messes with Harry’s boots, especially if it is to draw something on them.

Rummaging through the rest of the drawer, he finally comes across the correct bottle of medicine after carefully examining the label despite the strain in his eyes and pulse in his head.

He quietly pads back to the bed, hoping to fall asleep quickly and wake up feeling better. Your eyes flutter open at the sudden dip and wave of warmth, turning to glance at your husband.

“Harry?” You mumble in the darkness, reaching a hand out for his. He curses to himself, having woken you up.

He cuddles closer to you, tugging your body onto his chest. He’s afraid if he tells you about the raging migraine in his head, you’ll feel compelled to stay awake and take care of him. He murmurs a reply you just barely register. 

“Go back to sleep, darlin.” You don’t have to be told twice as you drift off, sleep becoming of you once again.

A small smile etches across his face as he feels you falling deeper. 

Though once your breathing slows, Harry regrets not telling you what was wrong as the throbbing only escalates. He lets out a groan knowing it would take another twenty minutes for the medicine to set in, and even then he doesn’t know if it would work that well.

His breathing becomes heavy, gripping the right side of his head. He didn’t get migraines often, but when he did, oh boy were they raging. His eyes clamp down in an attempt to force sleep, but it only worsens the pain.

“Mgh.” He releases an incoherent moan, shifting from side to side. Harry knows he probably shouldn’t, but fuck it, you’re the only person he knows could help.

“Love,” He gently shakes. You grumble a bit as his swaying continues, his repeated pet names finally waking you.

“What? What is it, H?” You almost snap, slightly annoyed. 

“I-I-I’ve got a migraine.” He mutters in reply, guilt also setting in as he woke you with his own problems. 

“Oh.” You bite your lip, thankful that you did not utter any rude words. 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. You can go back to sleep-”

“No, no. Of course not. I’m glad you woke me up. Do you want me to get some more water or boil some? Have you taken meds for it?” 

His head nods, whining lowly at the sensation.

“ ‘m sorry,” Harry apologises again. “I really wouldn’t wake you unless it was bad and I’ve tried to go back to sleep but I just can’t and- and… it really fooking hurts.” 

You lean forward to lay a kiss on his forehead. “Don’t apologise for wanting help, my love.” You respond before exiting to make tea. The herbal ones always seemed to calm him.

Once back in the room, you frown at his exterior. His body is up against the headboard, arms crossed and trying to relax but it was only causing more of an ache.

You sigh, pulling him closer. He tries to relax in your grasp but cannot rattle the discomfort. Your fingers dig into his hair, gently massaging the tender areas.

“… and my pain will range from up, down and sideways, thank God it’s Friday cause Fridays…” You hum lowly, the TØP song sticking to your brain after Harry brought up the title.

“Don’t know why they, always seem so dismal. Thunderstorms, clouds, snow, and a slight drizzle…” 

“What’s the name of that song again, angel?” Harry interjects. 

“Migraine.” You chuckle, causing him to groan. 

“You don’t like the song?” 

“No, no. I do, it’s just… perhaps something a bit more mellow for the moment?” 

You nod, beginning a different song for your husband. Though everything still hurt, your repeated touch and sound eased his pain just a bit. 

“But ain’t nobody love you like I do…” 

You notice his breathing gradually calm as you sing softly. Another smile comes across his face, feeling incredibly thankful to have you around. Nothing and no one could ever make him feel as you do. 

“Promise that I will not take it personal-”

“-baby?” He completes the line, though his intonation hints that it is question rather than him singing. You pout, thinking you had upset him again by the choice of song. Happier had also been circling your thoughts and though it did not apply to either of you, it was still a fantastic song to sing.

“Yes, Haz?” 

“I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you.”


Can y'all believe Camila Cabello invented beauty

Imagine Harry Takes Care of You When You’re Drunk

You didn’t want to come to the wedding, you weren’t going to RSVP at all. You hadn’t talked to your cousin in ages, it almost seemed awkward to tell them you were going; but of course, your parents told you that it would be very rude of you not to go, and Harry agreed. He was giving you shit for not wanting to go, so you made him go with you, which he obviously didn’t mind at all. If it meant he got to dress up in a suit, and look at you in a pretty dress, then it was okay with him. He cleared his schedule and everything so he would be able to go with you. You thought it was sweet, while only being a little bit annoyed with the fact that you still have to go.

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Just one more chapter.
—  Me reading fan fiction at 3 am

Title: With a Whimper


Word Count: 132.8k

Status: Complete

Summary: The long-haired man grips his arm tightly. “You’re not going to say anything.” It’s not a question.

Louis shakes his head, his body twitching. It hurts.

“Fine.” Large eyes survey him before letting go. “It’s cold. Take this. Wear it.”

Louis can’t help another flinch as the man’s long scarf is wrapped round his tender neck. It’s still warm. Louis touches the soft material. “Thank you.”

The man bears his teeth. “Don’t thank me. Don’t ever thank me.”

–Dystopian AU. Louis has been alone for too long to remember how not to be, and Harry has too much to worry about to deal with a scrawny, wild, stranger.

I don’t think parents fully understand how important it is to be like 8 hours early to a concert

Preference #2 - He Hears You Singing One of His Songs -Harry

A/N: Gif not mine.

You lay back on the bed of your hotel room, staring up the white ceiling, wondering what exactly you were doing here. Harry had invited you along, but you still didn’t feel like you belonged here. You picked up your phone, scrolling through the music videos, and pressed play on your favorite music video with Harry, Perfect. You waited until Harry’s part came on, and started to sing along with his voice.

“But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms, and if you like having secret little rendezvous, if you like to do the things you know that we shouldn’t do, then baby, I’m perfect, baby, I’m perfect for you.” You sang. You listened to the rest of the boys parts, waiting for Harry’s voice to sound out through your phone’s speaker again.

“But if you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms, and if you like having secret little rendezvous, if you like to do the things you know that we shouldn’t do, then baby, I’m perfect, baby, I’m perfect for you. And if you like driving with the windows down, and if you like going places we can’t even pronounce, if you like to do what you’ve been dreaming about, then baby, you’re perfect, baby, you’re perfect, so let’s start right now. And if you like cameras flashing every time we go out, and if you’re looking for someone to write your break-up songs about, baby, I’m perfect, baby, we’re perfect. If you like causing trouble up in hotel rooms, and if you like having secret little rendezvous, if you like to do the things you know that we shouldn’t do, then baby, I’m perfect, baby, I’m perfect for you. And if you like midnight driving with the windows down, and if you like going place we can’t even pronounce, if you like to do whatever you’ve been dreaming about, then baby you’re perfect, baby you’re perfect, so let’s start right now.” You waited until the song finished, tears leaking out of your eyes, before shutting out of the video.

“Hi, love.” Harry’s quiet voice said. You jumped slightly, sitting up and turning to face him.

“Harry. What are you doing back here so soon?” You inquired, biting the inside of your cheek. “I thought that you were going to straight to the venue after touring the city.”

“I wanted to see if you wanted to come to the concert.” Harry murmured, taking a seat next to you on the bed.

“I’d love to,” You quietly said, looking over at him and hoping he wouldn’t ask why you were listening to that song and crying. When you moved to stand, Harry took your hand in his, keeping you seated next to him.

“Please tell me what you’re thinking, love. Why were you crying? Did someone say something to you?” Harry inquired.

“No, no one said anything to me. I just…I feel like I don’t belong, Harry. This world….it’s different from what I’m used to.” You murmured, your eyes focused on the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Harry quietly said, his hand reaching out and gently touching yours. “I didn’t think. I’ve been in this world for so long, that I didn’t think about how unused to it you are. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Harry. I just need to figure out how I fit into this part of your life.” You murmured.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Harry asked, his eyes widening, horror written across his features.

“No, of course not! I want to be with you. I want to come to your concert tonight.” You replied. Harry wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“Thank you, love,” He whispered, before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Thank you so much.”

“Thank you, Harry. Let’s go, shall we? Don’t want the others wondering where we are.” You said, taking his hand and standing. Harry stood as well, and the two of you walked out of your hotel room, fingers entwined.

Written by Angel xx