liam payn fanfic

#33-He Comforts You After a Loss (Niall)

Warning: loss of a parent, hospitals, cursing. 

A/N: This might be seriously painful to read, and I am so sorry. In case you all don’t know what an implanted defibrillator is, it’s a device that is put near the heart, and, in the event the person has a heart attack or an irregular heartbeat, it shocks the person’s heart back into proper rhythm. 

You were awakened by the phone ringing absurdly early-four in the morning, to be exact. You listened as the doctor in the ICU told you that your Dad wasn’t going to last, and you should come in now. You hurriedly threw on your clothes, getting into your car, and speeding towards the hospital. You couldn’t really fathom that your Dad was dying, even though he’d been sick for years. You haphazardly parked, and hurried into the hospital, bypassing the emergency department and going straight for the ICU. You quickly put on a yellow contamination suit, and stepped into your Dad’s room.

“Dad,” You whispered, reaching for his hand. “I’m here, Dad.”

You stood next to his bed, watching as the machine breathed for him. You were there as he took his last breaths, and his heart stopped. You thought that it had continued to beat, but when the nurse came in and switched off the machines, you realized that it was the defibrillator that was implanted in his chest.

“Dad. Daddy,” You quietly said, numbness stealing over you. You couldn’t believe that this had really happened, that your Dad was actually gone. After sitting there for a while, you left the room, removing the contamination suit and putting it in the nearest trash bin. You carefully drove home, the sun rising in front of you. When you arrived home, you stepped out of your car, and went into your home. You went upstairs and quickly showered, before changing into your pajamas, and getting back into bed. You rolled over, burying your face in your pillow, hot tears soaking it. As you began to drift off to sleep, your phone rang. You picked it up, and, seeing Niall’s name, you answered it.

“Niall?” You quietly said.

“(Y/N),” Niall murmured. “How is he?”

“He’s gone,” You whispered.

“Love,” Niall quietly said. “I’m so sorry. I’m coming home now.”

“Okay, Niall,” You replied.

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Niall said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” You replied, before hanging up. You fell asleep soon afterwards, numb and still in shock.

When you awoke next, it was to Niall taking a seat next to you, the bed sinking beneath his weight.

“Niall?” You sleepily said.

“I’m here,” Niall murmured, gently placing a hand on your back.

“It was so horrible, Niall,” You sobbed, wrapping your arms around him. “I thought he wasn’t dead. Even though….it sounded like his heart was still beating, even though it wasn’t. It was that damned defibrillator. He’s gone. He’s really gone.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, tears running down your face.

“I’m so sorry, love,” Niall whispered. “I’m sorry he’s gone.”

“Just….stay with me?” You murmured, lying back down. Niall lay down beside you, holding you close. You listened to the steady thump of his heartbeat, and hoped, that even though it felt as if there was an aching, hollow spot in your chest, someday, the pain would lessen.

Written by Angel

How do I fix it? Can we talk? Can we communicate? Do I wanna fix it?
I have questions for you (I’m afraid of you)
Is it my fault? Is it my fault? Do you miss me?
—  Camila Cabello (Inner Voice on I Have Questions)

i cannot keep up w all of the boys separately it’s like having 4 children who have 4 different after school activities you need to attend in a night and you don’t know how to make it to all of them

Dress you up in my love (Complete)

Harry is single, and more than anything wants to find love. Agreeing to sign up to a dating website was a bad, bad idea. Niall’s bad, bad idea. Louis is single, but has no interest in relationships. Or so he tells himself.

Harry is a lawyer, his boss, Nick, happens to give him a bonus, which he decides to splurge on a new work wardrobe. Louis is a frustrated designer, working as a personal shopper at Selfridges. Louis happens to be working on the day a very beautiful, but out of his depth, new customer ambles into their department in need of advice. Louis might have just found the muse he never knew he was looking for.

Featuring: Sophia as Louis’ colleague, with a somewhat unhealthy obsession with his love life, whilst being oblivious when it comes to her own. Liam as the ‘IT bloke from downstairs’ with the mother of all crushes on Sophia, Niall as Harry’s sport’s writer flatmate, who spends most of his time making Harry’s life as complicated as possible, Zayn as Louis’ flatmate and lifelong best friend, whose cat, Noodle/Princess/Princess Noodle, loves Louis more than she loves him. And Nick as Harry’s boss and one of Louis’ regular customers: is Imelda Marcos reborn.

Rating - Explicit

Pairing - Harry and Louis

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9  / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13 / Chapter 14 / Chapter 15 / Chapter 16 / Chapter 17 / Chapter 18 / Chapter 19 / Chapter 20

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┃┃╱╲ in this
┃╱╱╲╲ house
╱╱╭╮╲╲ we
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love and support harry styles
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dirty laundry looks good on you by suspendrs (19k)

“So um, Niall mentioned you haven’t lived here long. What brings you to London?”

“What is this, an interview?” Louis smirks, stealing Harry’s drink and taking a sip. “Wanted a change of scenery. Dunno.”

Harry hums and takes his drink back, narrowing his eyes playfully at Louis as he takes a long sip. “Can I buy you a drink, or would you rather keep sharing mine?”

“You most certainly can buy me a drink,” Louis grins, grabbing the bottle back out of Harry’s hand, “but I’m still going to be stealing yours.”

Or, Harry is jaded and sad and resigned to be forever alone, until Niall sets him up with a friend of his whose broken pieces may just fit pretty well with Harry’s.

A Warm Welcome [h.s.]

A/N: here’s some hades!harry! Sorry if it’s shitty I’m trying to get back in the game! And sorry for any typos and mistakes! Enjoy :-)

___________________________

Being a god comes with a large bundle of heightened emotions and Harry honestly wishes that they had an off switch. Celestial beings are called “celestial” for a reason, after all. They’re abnormally better than any human, and thus they must keep an attitude and air that enforces nothing less, but damn feelings for being able to get in the way so easily.

Gods must be calm and collected under the most extraneous situations, they must rule with an iron fist, and most importantly, they must forbid emotions from deterring them in any way. He’s not saying that he hates feeling emotions more intensely; some are worth the toil. Pleasure, for example, is felt tenfold what any human could handle and he can almost say that this alone makes the troubles worth it. But it’s moments such as now that bring forward overpowering feelings that he wishes he could cast aside: a dangerous mixture of excitement and anxiousness.

More specifically, the excitement and anxiousness that comes with the return of his beloved wife, Persephone (or as he calls her, Y/N), from being away for her given six months of the year.

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Does anyone remember when people used to write angsty fanfics about the teenage girl who like fuckin hated one direction and then would somehow end up falling in love with liam or some shit bc she was different and didnt piss herself when she saw 1D bc i do and it was such a simple time back then

Migraine

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.”

Noticed

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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