#1D security

[savebylou]

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[theflyingfeeling]

just got home from Ruisrock's Super Sunday, what do you mean I gotta go grocery shopping now and cook dinner 😭

[londonfoginacup]

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[ificouldflyhome369]

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[peachyteabuck]

So this is a longshot but I was wondering if you would do a commission about a kpop idol. It won’t focus anything on their life, just mention she’s an idol and then just use her name since it’ll be smut

absolutely not. fanfic is about community--mainly BY a community FOR a community, so it automatically feels against my own fandom politics to do this.

the secondary reason is it's a kpop person, and i am not touching that shit with a 20 foot pole.

[luvdsc]

TIFU by getting hit by a car over labubus that i was trying to get for the girl i like.

a broken arm is temporary. labubus (and winning your affection) are forever.

pairing :: lee donghyuck x reader genre :: comedy, fluff ⋮ friends to lovers au word count :: 4,751 words warnings :: haechan gets hit by a car but it's not graphic playlist :: the cutest pair (regina song) ⋆ buy me presents (sabrina carpenter) ⋆ buzz (niki) ⋆ soft spot (keshi) ⋆ everything i want (beabadoobee) author’s note :: happy new year, honey bees !!! here's another f2l fic, like is anyone surprised at this point? happy 4 year friendversary (plus 4 days) to moon and me, it'll be 5 years on april fool's with lana, and luvdsc officially turns 6 on the 8th !! ily all sm and thank you so so much for all the support and love these past 6 years, honey bees ᥫ᭡ ↳ part of a nonsense christmas: reddit edition collaboration series.

i. if you were a wise man, (you wouldn’t put your life on the line for bug eyed dolls)

r/TIFU

u/ifyouseekamy-yn3435 • 1d

TIFU by getting hit by a car over labubus that I was trying to get for the girl I like

I (24M) was trying to rush to be first in line at the Popmart grand opening and arrived at 11 PM the night before. The girl I like is really into Labubu and Dimoo, and the new store will be fully stocked, first come first serve. I got in line and was fifth in waiting to get into the store. But before that, I had to sit in my car until midnight when people started lining up outside the mall entrance. It got too rowdy though, so the security guard yelled for everyone to go back to the parking structure. Obviously, people slowly inched their way back to the entrance again after pretending to leave, so I made sure to nab a spot by hiding in the bushes closest to the mall doors. Finally at 8 AM, they let us inside and I sprinted into the mall past almost everyone else. I secured the goods (have a seat set, exciting macaron set, wings of fortune, happy halloween party, fall in wild, flip with me) and happily made it out. This was going to be the best Christmas present for the girl I like, and therefore increase my chances of her saying yes to a date. But there was someone driving at way more than 15mph in the mall parking lot and with no care for stop signs and pedestrian walkways. So they ran over a few orange cones before coming to a stop after hitting the biggest speed bump aka me. Now I’m left with a broken arm, a couple bruised ribs, and hopped up on pain meds in the hospital on Christmas day with nothing else to do except post on reddit

⥣ 2,548 ⥥ 280 Comments

farts-and-minecrafts205 • 16h did you secure the goods tho ??? are they ok ??

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.3k ⥥

ifyouseekamy-yn3435 • 13h Yes right when I saw the car coming, I made sure to lovingly cradle the labubus in my arms. I didn’t let them hit the ground even after I was in the fetal position in the middle of the parking lot and my ribs acted like their airbags ➥ Reply ⥣ 1.7k ⥥

smoothkriminal423 • 12h thank god the resale prices would go down if they got scratched

➥ Reply ⥣ 949 ⥥

ifyouseekamy-yn3435  • 3h gtfo of here fake ass mj stan ➥ Reply ⥣ 452 ⥥

T1NF01LH4T323 • 1h when you got hit, did you go hee hee or goofy’s chuckle ➥ Reply ⥣ 1.1k ⥥

0rgasm-d0n0r813  • 9h can I have the labubus she doesn’t want

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.4k ⥥

pissrevolver1122 • 3h reselling labubus here!!! pm for prices 

➥ Reply ⥣ 331 ⥥

ii. baby you would drop, every other ho ho ho, and put me on top

Lee Donghyuck is down bad.

Actually, let’s circle back to that. He is utterly, horrifically, astronomically down bad. There is no other way to describe the situation unfolding in front of him right now because why is he letting you sit at his desk in front of his prestige, top of the art gaming set up, complete with the comfiest gaming chair, matching keyboard with rainbow lighting and teddy bear keycaps, and a personally customized Acer Predator Orion 7000 PC with a miniature arcane Jinx figurine inside it?

Meanwhile, he is seated on the edge of his bed, precariously balancing your MacBook covered in Sailor Moon and Nanami stickers on his knees and fighting for his life as he dodges attacks from Samira and Leona, quickly putting up a shield on his Lulu. Sure, it was stupid to play as Lulu when he’s in the dragon lane, but in his defense, he wanted to try a new AP setup and thought Mark would be a better support than this, what with the obscene amount of money he spent on all those Seraphine skins. If Mark had spent even half the amount of hours as the amount of dollars he blew on those skins, he would be doing better than 0:3:0 within the first five minutes of the game.

“Mark, dude, are you trying to lose on purpose or have you always been naturally gifted at sucking ass?” Donghyuck grits out between his teeth, his fingers moving across the keyboard at top speed, not even sure if his friend can hear him through his wired Apple earphones since he has so graciously let you borrow his top tier headphones, too (Maybe it’s for the better though. He has a permanent dent in his hair on the top of his head because of them).

You don’t even need the headphones. He has turned off the voice chat option for you because you didn’t need to be hearing the absolute scum that comes from the average league player anyway (Not that you would. Mark has been getting the brunt of it from the rest of the team, himself included). But he wanted to give you the full gamer experience, and you look so cute, perched at his desk and attentively scanning the map, his headphones resting on your head so nicely.

All he gets is radio silence from Mark before he sees K/DA Seraphine inching away towards the middle lane. “Are you kidding me? Y/N, can you move to my lane? Mark is too butt hurt to continue dying in the bot lane, I guess.”

“Yes, do I just follow you around?” you ask, carefully guiding your Ahri towards Haechan’s Lulu, careful to check the upper left map view to make sure no one from the enemy team is lurking around you. You stop briefly to admire her animations, her red nine tails swirling around her, making her look ethereal. “This skin is so pretty, thanks for getting it for me, Hyuck.”

“Oh, sure, anytime,” Donghyuck says as casually as possible, completely ignoring the fact that his wallet is now five hundred dollars lighter, all thanks to one Signature Immortalized Legend skin for Ahri. Even he doesn’t have that skin. But what else was he supposed to do? Not buy it for you after you mentioned liking it after he set up League of Legends on your laptop for you to try a few hours ago (nevermind the fact that he’s the one playing on your MacBook now instead)? You chose Ahri because you wanted to play a pretty champ, and of course, he was going to make sure you get the prettiest skin to go with her.

“Oh my god, did you see that?” you gasp excitedly after you hit E and the orbs from Ahri’s second skill swirl and hit Leona, effectively stealing Donghyuck’s kill. “I got her!”

“Yes, you did, congrats, that’s amazing,” Donghyuck struggles to maintain a happy tone, schooling his expression into a peaceful one with much concentration, but it’s alright. It’s perfectly fine. He’s fine. It’s not like he needed an eighth kill to get the legendary title. He can just go for Samira instead. “Can you aim at Samira and hit W please?”

You carefully follow his instructions, and Ahri’s charm move hits Samira perfectly with the heart, pulling the enemy towards your Ahri and Haechan’s Lulu. With a victorious cry, he takes out the enemy and secures the legendary title.

“You’re doing really well,” he compliments you, and your cheeks grow warm as you click at the screen, pretending to focus even more on taking down the opponent’s turret as you answer sheepishly. “Thank you, it’s really fun.”

“Maybe you can play support next time instead of Mark,” he muses, a satisfactory grin appearing on his face when the two of you finally take down the first turret of the game. “That bastard just stands around and looks pretty. He practically feeds the other team.”

He can hear faint cursing in his headphones from the bastard in question, but he ignores it, opting to focus on the sound of your giggling that makes his heart skip a beat and his cheeks take on a rosy hue.

“Mm, you really think so, Hyuck? I think it’s just all beginner’s luck right now,” you laugh softly, maneuvering Ahri around and following his champ towards the mid lane. “Plus, you’re hard carrying us.”

Your borrowed laptop almost slips off of his lap as your words register in his mind, the soft lilt in your voice making his stomach do cartwheels and somersaults that would even impress Simone Biles. Donghyuck very nearly lets out a high pitched giggle before he remembers to get a goddamn grip on himself and hastily clears his throat. “Nah, I think the jungle is doing really well, too. And you’re keeping up with us.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes light up, and he swears they’re even prettier and sparkle more than the one house that goes out all on the Christmas light decorations at the end of the street. “Maybe we can play together more then.”

He swallows hard, eyes zeroing on the screen in front of him so he wouldn’t seem as eager as he really is secretly. “Sure, that sounds great.”

“Great, it’s a date,” you say lightly, and Donghyuck immediately stops breathing and promptly drops the laptop onto the carpeted floor, his Lulu getting instantly KOed in the game while Mark swears loudly in his earphones.

ii. spend your cookie dough, dough, dough, spend it on my heart

It’s times like these that Donghyuck really has to sit and think hard about what the actual fuck he is doing with his life. It’s not like he has anything else to do anyway. He’s sitting in the nearly empty mall parking lot at 11 PM, preparing to camp out in front of the entrance just to make sure he’d be one of the first people to enter Popmart and buy all those Labubus you’ve mentioned that you’ve been wanting.

He’s tried for months now, obsessively refreshing the Popmart app on his phone and iPad in addition to refreshing the website on his computer at 10 PM sharp on Thursdays in hopes of snagging just one of them for you. He’s even made a whole account, added his credit card in for fast payments, and watched those stupid 24/7 TikTok lives from the Popmart accounts just in case they release any on there as well. All he ended up with was no Labubus and two hundred thirty dollars short because he discovered that they had a K/DA figurine collaboration and obviously, he immediately bought the whole set. 

But his prayers were answered in a convoluted way because news dropped that a new Popmart was opening nearby on December 24th, which meant it would be fully stocked with all the Labubus you want, and he’d be damned if he let this opportunity pass. It was both a curse and a blessing. What kind of corporate devil chooses their grand opening to be on Christmas Eve? So that leads to his current predicament: sitting in his car, about to brave the cold for the next 10 hours outside for some dumb dolls and fighting through the last minute Christmas shoppers during the hours after that.

Donghyuck puts on a couple more extra layers, including a giant Canada Goose jacket for good measure, and stuffs his pockets with an external battery charger, some power bars, and a water bottle. Finally, he makes peace with the fact that this is what his life has come down to, that he really is this down bad for you, and he gets out of his car, shuffling over to the entrance and standing in line with all the other men who are probably there to get Labubus for their girlfriends and wives. They all give each other the nod in solidarity, and so begins the wait.

He sits with his back against the wall, huddled up in his puffer jacket and pulling out his phone to play Wild Rift to pass the time. If one game averages between 15 - 30 minutes, then he only needs to play 20 - 40 games. That’s not so bad, he reasons with himself, tapping the screen idly while he waits for the matchmaking to complete. He can do this.

By 5 AM, there’s a large crowd of people waiting, the noise level going up and some shoving going on. He quickly steels himself and stays firmly planted in his spot. He will be getting those damn dolls, no matter what. When the security guard comes out to break up the rowdy crowd, he quickly slips behind the nearby bushes lining the mall, taking advantage of the commotion. Once again, he settles down in the dirt, hunched over and playing his game, dignity lost but his place in line still in sight. Donghyuck really hopes no one he knows sees him here.

At 8 AM, one of the Popmart store managers takes pity on the growing crowd (who returned less than an hour later after the security guard got tired of monitoring them) and opens the mall doors. He quickly pops out of the bushes, no doubt scaring a couple people but he couldn’t care less at this point, and sprints into the mall, beelining it to the figurine store and securing his spot as fifth in line. He hastily brushes off the dirt clinging to the seat of his pants and any twigs in his hair before waiting impatiently.

Finally, by 9 AM, Donghyuck has secured the goods at last, clutching onto four large bags filled with two full sets of Labubu blind boxes, two of the larger dolls, and three special plush keychains (he ignores the email notification from his bank asking if he had made this purchase). Strutting with his head held high, he would do a hair flip if his hands weren’t so occupied with carrying out half the store’s supply of Labubus. He proudly walks through the mall with his long coveted purchases, feeling even more triumphant than when he reached grandmaster in League and ranked in the top 200 for Master Yi.

Unfortunately, Lady Luck always gets to have the last laugh because Donghyuck barely makes it out the door before he finds himself lying flat across the crosswalk pavement. A loud yelp escapes from his lips as he instinctively grips onto his shopping bags, curling around them protectively as pain shoots up around his ribcage and forearm. He wants to laugh or cry or maybe do both simultaneously.

This has to be a joke. All that work, all that humiliation, just to be bested by someone’s god awful, hideous Cybertruck. He’s about to become the modern day Scrooge because all the ghosts must have come together to put up an even bigger middle finger salute to him since he just had to get hit with that fugly monstrosity to top it all off.

God damn it all, where the fuck was Edward Cullen when Donghyuck needed him the most?

The universe really didn’t want him to get those ugly dolls. He should have taken the L in defeat and read all the foreshadowing signs when he couldn’t get them every time he tried before that because now the universe is out of balance, and he had to pay for it. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction after all. Man plans, god laughs.

Jokes on the big man upstairs though because his Labubus are all still nestled safely in his arms in (hopefully) pristine condition, and they’d have to be pried from his cold, dead hands (which honestly, might be soon). Is this how Emily felt in “Devil Wears Prada” when she got hit by a taxi and all those Hermes scarves went flying (correction: floating) around her? He glances down just to see the fall in wild Labubu pendant smirking back at him mockingly, still in its perfect packaging and in his shaking clutches. He desperately wants to punch its smug little face, but his arm is unfortunately twisted in an unnatural position at the moment.

Donghyuck is knocked out of his stupor when he hears the sounds of the driver quickly clambering out from their seat, hurrying towards him and kneeling down, asking if he’s okay. Someone else is asking him if he wants them to call someone, and he faintly registers the excruciating pain in his ribs and the way he landed on his arm. Clenching his teeth, he closes his eyes before managing to croak out feebly:

“Are all the Labubus okay?”

iii. if you’re not gonna race here from the north pole to beverly hills the hospital, just to keep my stocking filled

When you wake up extremely late past noon on Christmas morning, you definitely do not expect the huge flurry of texts and missed calls on your phone. And more importantly, you most definitely do not expect to find out that Donghyuck is in the hospital. With your heart dropping to your stomach, you hastily get dressed and  grab your keys, entering the hospital address Renjun texted you into your Apple Maps as you rush to your car.

Making a quick detour to the bakery he likes, you get a couple slices of Mont Blanc for him before continuing on the route to the hospital. You haphazardly park your car before hurriedly speed walking through the automatic entrance doors, clutching tightly onto the box of baked goods as you get into the elevator and finally reach his room.

“Hyuck?” you say tentatively, knocking on the door and peering inside, relief filling you instantly when you see him seated upright in the hospital bed, awake and pouting. Along with all the balloons and flowers his friends must’ve dropped off earlier, there’s an unusually large pile of Popmart bags in the corner of his room, but you don’t question it at the moment. His heart rate spikes on the monitor, and you look at it in concern before his loud sigh brings your focus back to him.

“What took you so long?” Donghyuck huffs dramatically, trying to cross his arms over his chest as best he could with one arm in a cast. “I texted you this morning, didn’t I?”

“I just woke up like 45 minutes ago and rushed here,” you defend yourself lightly, dropping the cake box on the stand next to him, and his eyes instantly light up before he remembers that he’s supposed to be upset and turns his nose at you slightly.

“It’s 3 PM, what do you mean you just woke up? You forgot about me, didn’t you?” he huffs softly, peeking over at the cake for a split second and then resumes pouting at you, his lower lip jutting out slightly. 

“I, uh, I stayed up late, trying to catch up on my game,” you avoid eye contact, cheeks growing warmer as you try to excuse yourself, tripping over your words in haste. “There’s this Touring in Love event going on right now and I wanted to get the limited four star card for Zayne, so I had to get more game currency in the event store, not to mention, I needed to get more gems to pull on the current five star banner because I lost my pity to the Sylus card a—” 

“Is this that otome game you’re into?” Donghyuck interrupts, and your face feels like a burning furnace now.

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe it. I lost to a bunch of pixels,” he sighs a second time, flopping back against his pillows gingerly to not aggravate his bruised ribs but to also emphasize his sulkiness further. “You were too busy visiting your AI generated boyfriend in the hospital, instead of visiting  me.”

“I was asleep!” you protest lightly before picking up the cake again and holding up your peace offering, “The second I woke up and saw the texts, I drove over here. I even got you your favorite cake.”

“I sat here, cold, alone, and in pain, for hours,” he fake sniffles, unabashedly eyeing the cake for a third time before refocusing back on you.

“You’re acting like a real Rafayel right now.”

Donghyuck sulks even more. “He’s not even your favorite in the game.”

“Yes, my favorite works at the hospital, not makes the hospital work,” you tease softly, and he huffs slightly, puffing out his cheeks and making himself look even cuter (though you’re not going to tell him that and make his ego even bigger than it already is). 

“Wow, you’re bullying a gravely injured person on Christmas too. You’re cruel. I can’t even do anything, except lie here motionlessly on my deathbed,” he sighs once again, closing his eyes before opening one of them to peek at you and quickly shutting it again once he confirms he has your full undivided attention.

“Renjun texted me literally fifteen minutes ago that he just left your room, and you were asking him to bring you your iPad to do all the dailies for your games,” you deadpan, pulling the chair to the spot next to his bed and settling down in it.

“Renjun is a snitch,” he mutters, relaxing against his pillows and accepting the cake after you open the box and place it on the tray attached to his bed. He takes a bite of the sweet goodness, humming slightly in content. 

“So, your type is quiet, serious guys who work at hospitals?” Donghyuck says casually, scooping up another bite of the cake, and you nearly choke, fumbling over your words. 

“W-Well, yeah, I guess, but it’s just a game. And um, he’s quite pretty.” You clear your throat slightly giving him a mischievous smile. “Why? Are you interested?”

“In you? Yeah, I thought I made myself pretty obvious all the time,” he states matter-of-factly, almost as if he’s reading off today’s news headlines or the weather, and you choke for real this time, coughing slightly.

“Anyway,” Donghyuck continues, taking another bite of his cake after handing you a water bottle which you quickly accept and sip, calming down your throat. “Do you think you can maybe go for a Rafayel guy in the near possible future? More specifically, one minute into the future?” He gives you a small smirk, batting his eyelashes at you. “I’m also pretty enough, aren’t I? Once I’m out of this hospital gown and in my usual clothes, I’d be even prettier.”

You laugh softly, tilting your head slightly as you look at him, hiding your smile. “I guess I could be convinced. Why one minute though?”

“Because I’m about to ask you out,” he answers immediately.

Your cheeks grow exponentially warmer once again, and you swallow nervously before masking it with a confident expression, teasing him, “Then go on. Ask me out.”

Donghyuck’s cheeks turn a rosy color as the realization of what he’s about to do finally kicks in (and perhaps, the pain medication has started to wear off slightly, so the post clarity is hitting him). Once again, the monitor shows a spike in his heart rate, and he curses it internally when he sees you glancing at it with a knowing smile. It’s an even worse snitch than Renjun. He clears his throat, sitting up as straight as he possibly can in this state, “Will you, Y/N, go out with me and be the very first person to sign my cast?”

You giggle before nodding, sending him a giddy smile as your heart thumps loudly in your chest, an explicable warm feeling spreading throughout your body and kicking up butterflies in your stomach. “Yes, I’ll go out with you.”

He immediately lights up, beaming at you. “Yeah? Wanna seal it with a kiss? I would if I could.”

Another peal of laughter bubbles up in your throat, but you oblige, leaning in and pressing your lips against his gently, the faint taste of caramel lingering on his lips. The kiss is sweet and smooth, fitting for him, and the loud beeping from his heart monitor increases almost immediately, much to his chagrin. You laugh softly against his lips at the sound, making his cheeks flush even redder if possible, and give him another soft kiss before pulling away.

“We should stop before we alert the nurses,” you tease softly, and he stammers, unable to come up with a smartass response for once in his life.

Your face is still warm as you busy yourself with uncapping the sharpie pen on the table next to him and work on signing his cast, writing your name out in pretty loopy cursive and a get well soon message, dotting any i’s with cute hearts that mirror the ones in Donghyuck’s eyes as he gazes at you.

“Didn’t the guys visit you? Why didn’t they sign your cast?”

“I wanted you to be the first one. Girlfriend privileges, and all that,” he answers lightly, and your heart skips a beat at your new title. You wonder if you’ll get used to it.

“Oh, really? I’m honored.”

“You should be,” Donghyuck says with a confident nod, and you can’t help but laugh, leaning in and pressing another kiss against his cheek. His cheeks turn crimson, and you notice, prompting you to leave another soft kiss against them and causing them to become an even embarrassingly darker shade of red as he stutters slightly, rendered speechless.

Yeah, you definitely can get used to these girlfriend privileges.

.

“So you won the real life boyfriend pity with me, right?” 

“Don’t push your luck.”

iv. well i know somebody who will

r/TIFU

u/ifyouseekamy-yn3435 • 9h

(UPDATE) TIFU by getting hit by a car over labubus that I was trying to get for the girl I like

First off, let me get this straight - I am not reselling any of the Labubus so stop pming me about that. I already gave them to her.

Ok now for the actual update. She visited me at the hospital and insisted that she’d drive me home when I got discharged. She’s really nice and brought me my favorite food. She’s also been bringing me meals everyday and we’re having dates at my place until my arm is fully healed. We have another date later today and we’re gonna watch Tangled and bake cookies. She also got me into blind boxes so now I have another crippling addiction and a shelf in my room just for Dimoos. We have matching Labubus on our bags, and she dressed them up in matching outfits too. She made me install a car seat thing on my AC in my car too so now my Labubu son can sit there when I start driving again. Oh and she has a whole pc setup now to play league and a new game, Infinity Nikki and I started playing it with her too. The graphics are very pretty. I feel like a pretty princess in my full flutter storm set ଘ(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ ⭒ Wish me luck on the upcoming banners pls I’m saving up for the lunar new year set since she said the franchise usually goes all out for it. So yeah that’s it. We’re dating now! Happy new year to everyone except zayne from love and deepspace /:

⥣ 1,606 ⥥ 273 Comments

farts-and-minecrafts205 • 9h TIFU by asking him about his date and I was stuck on the phone for three hours

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.2k ⥥

pissrevolver1122 • 8h fr OP became even more insufferable after finally scoring a date ➥ Reply ⥣ 809 ⥥

ifyouseekamy-yn3435 • 3h you're just jealous that the only affection you can get is by pretending to be a discord kitten ➥ Reply ⥣ 967 ⥥

mark-mywords-802 • 2h R U UWUKITTENBB69 ??!???! I BOUGHT U SO MANY AKALI SKINS ➥ Reply ⥣ 231 ⥥

John-Doe209 • 3h so is this a pity date or..? maybe she’s looking for a sugar daddy?

➥ Reply ⥣ 1.0k ⥥

ifyouseekamy-yn3435 • 1h SHUT UP SHE LOVES ME ➥ Reply ⥣ ⥥ -204

demure-and-mindfull-of-nanami626 • 2h what did zayne do to you???

➥ Reply ⥣ 526 ⥥ 

ifyouseekamy-yn3435 • 1h I got hit by a car for you and I still have to compete with that dude 😃 ➥ Reply ⥣ 153 ⥥ 

[hexsdexs]

Hey unpopular opinion but the 1D boys DO NOT owe you any sort of liam tribute. They don't owe you a song they record together. Not a tribute concert. Not individual songs on upcoming albums. they dont owe you the discussion of their grief on stage. Or if you meet them. Or in interviews. Louis literally discussed how absolutely insufferable it is to recount his grief in interviews time and time again. Its absolutely insane the fact you expect them to talk about major grief while they are AT WORK. Like imagine being at your job or some corporate event and some person you barely know asks you, while you are working, on the clock, how you are dealing with a family members death. the group of unhinged psychologically challenged women creating a "fan project" or printing liams face to take to zayns shows is psychotic and deranged and frankly i think zayn malik should be legally allowed to come down from stage and bash your skulls in. I sure know i want to. I pray zayns team sees the tweets and his security denies those weirdos entry.

[beansprean]

oh we are gettin INTO it by golly

My Familiar’s Ghost part 88

Masterpost Masterpost 2

See the latest pages on Patreon!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Close up of Nandor's hands twisting together on his lap. He asks hesitantly, 'So...you remember now what happened at the Panera Bread?' 1b. Knees up of them both sitting on the cot, Nandor in the foreground. Guillermo blinks at his knees and admits, 'Not really, no. Colin sent me the security video. Nandor turns his head away, toward the viewer, with a pained grin, the air darkening around his head as a single embarrassed tear leaks from one eye. He thinks to himself, 'Video proof...how embarrassing...' 1c. Close up of Guillermo's hand tightening its grip on his knee, bunching up the fabric of his corduroys. He says, 'I did hurt you.' Offscreen, Nandor replies flippantly, 'I am fine, Guillermo. We have fought before, you know.' 1d. Close up on Guillermo looking stressed and haunted, eyes on the ground as he grimaces and replies 'Not like that, when I...wasn't in control. When I could have really...killed you.' Behind him, a collage of flashbacks of his feral vampire self appear in red, splattered like blood. 1e. Repeat, smaller, the background disappearing in favor of a light pink glow as Nandor's left hand pops into frame to boop Guillermo on the nose. Guillermo startles out of his self pity, eyes crossed. 1f. Zoom out to knees up of them both on the cot. Nandor is leaning close, chest pressed against Guillermo's shoulder, grinning teasingly with his booping finger held aloft. 'My little control freak,' he states fondly with a pink heart. Guillermo leans away and tucks his arms to his chest, embarrassed and flustered by the contact. He replies, 'Wh- it's not that! Shut up!' Nandor chirps, 'See, very charming this time!'

2a. Chest up of Nandor from Guillermo's POV, smiling fondly as he sits back and pulls his hand down. He says, 'It is in the past, Guillermo. You would not kill me now, yes?' 2b. Chest up side by side on the cot. Guillermo leans forward intently and cries, 'Of course not!' Nandor drops his eyes shyly, left hand twirling a lock of hair, and asks, '...Even if I am being very selfish and mean?' 2c. Chest up of Guillermo from Nandor's POV, straightening his back with confidence and a steady gaze as he replies without hesitation, 'Never.' 2d. Chest up side by side on the cot. Nandor closes his eyes decisively with a smile, flipping his hand out palm up in a dismissive gesture as he says, 'Then we will forget it.' Guillermo smiles up at him with affection, relief relaxing his shoulders. 2e. Repeat, larger. Guillermo hunches his shoulders shyly and ducks his head, looking back toward an empty corner of the cage with a nervous smile as he asks, 'But not...all of it, right?' Nandor's eyes fly open in shock, mouth snapping shut and hand freezing mid-air, a purple flush crawling up his cheeks as he stares down at Guillermo. Behind him, a blue-tinted memory of their kiss floats back up. /end ID

[onlymingyus]

i want to write you a song (teaser)

pairing; lee jihoon (woozi) x f!reader

genre; smut (minor dni), angst, fluff

summary; You have the best job in the world as Lee Jihoon's personal assistant but his secrets are starting to turn your world upside down.

content warnings; personal assistant!reader, ceo/boss!jihoon, single dad!jihoon, children, grandparents/parents, jihoon has a sibling, coworkers!soonyoung, mingyu, & wonwoo, soonyoung in a menace, eating/drinking, alcohol, jealousy, crying, self confidence/esteem issues, death of a family member (in the past).

smut warnings; unprotected sex, pulling out, cream pie, simp!jihoon, mild dom!jihoon, sub!reader, the dom/sub dynamics are very subtle, dumbification (very mild), innocence kink, lingerie kink, pet names, praise (like a lot -- he is a simp), body worship, oral (f receiving), fingering, handjob, crying (from pleasure and happiness), manhandling, masturbation, pillow princess!reader, i am sure there are more (let me know if its glaring) -- bonus section has its own warnings on patreon.

w/c; 27k and some change (3.2k extra words for patreon bonus) [1.6k this teaser]

a/n; thank you to @junkissed and @seokgyuu for helping me come up with a title for this! it's a 1D song, and I do not go here, but it's a very cute song and title! also thank you to my june for proofreading for me and always being the best in the fucking world. literally going through 30k words of my bullshit... the mvp! anyway, i hope you guys enjoy me simping over simp dlif jihoon! next month is spooky seasons so keep your eyes peeled for that one 💀!  

this fic will be released 9/15 to read it now subscribe to my patreon and click here

“Miss Y/N, will you make me s’getti?” 

You had gotten to Jihoon’s house in a sour mood, but quickly found that when you were around Haein, you couldn’t be upset. She was so different from the previous day. It was obvious that she was starting to feel better, and her personality was really starting to shine. She was like a little bright light in your dark evening. 

“‘Course, as long as you guys have the stuff for it.” Pursing your lips, you open the pantry doors and sigh at the amount of groceries available to you. Of course, Lee Jihoon would have a stocked kitchen. You don’t know why you even considered anything different. 

Pulling a few things from the pantry and then more from the fridge, you glance into the living room as Haein pulls a brush through her doll's hair and hums under her breath. You had found yourself smiling fondly at everything the girl had done, even when it was the smallest thing. She could show you that she could tie her shoe and you were praising her like a proud family member. “What’s your doll's name, Haein?” 

Smiling at you from the couch, Haein lifts the doll to show it off as she moves to her knees. “I used to call her Kimmie, but I like your name better. That okay?” Biting your lip as you push the hamburger meat around in the pan in front of you, you feel your heart tighten in your chest at the little girl's words. “Mmhm, that’s okay with me.” 

Your phone had gone off a few times in the night. From the time that you had left the office to the time that you had put a bowl of spaghetti in from Haein, you had been ignoring it. You didn’t need to check it to know it was probably Jihoon. It wasn’t like he didn’t know you were here. His mother had been here when you had gotten here; she had said goodbye to Haein and you knew there were security cameras in Jihoon’s house. You just didn’t find yourself wanting to talk to him while he was on a date with some girl. It wasn’t until the tenth buzz from your phone on the kitchen counter as you put leftovers into a container, you let out an annoyed breath and turned the phone over to read your texts. 

Lee Jihoon: Thank you again for helping me out. I owe you big time

Lee Jihoon: Soonyoung said you were upset when you left. Is everything okay?

Lee Jihoon: Y/N? 

Lee Jihoon: Are you mad at me?

Lee Jihoon: Could we talk when I get home?

Lee Jihoon: How is Haein? Are you guys doing okay?

Lee Jihoon: I checked the camera. I hate doing that. Seems like you guys are having a good time

Lee Jihoon: Feels like you are ignoring my texts on purpose

Lee Jihoon: What did I do???

Lee Jihoon: We are going to talk. 

Shaking your head, you send a single text message back to Jihoon before slipping your phone into your pocket and making your way over to the couch and Haein. “What are we watching?” Giggling, Haein tells you about her Barbie movie and you listen even as you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. Your stomach in knots, you sigh softly and offer the girl beside you a smile as she adjusts to sit against you, her head against your shoulder, before pulling your arm around her tightly. 

Y/N: Haein is doing great. No need to rush back. Enjoy your date, Mr. Lee. 

Lee Jihoon: Be home soon, Miss Y/L/N. 

You didn’t give your phone much more thought; instead, you focused on Haein as she shifted against you to lay in your lap. Your eyes are moving between her and the movie as your fingers brush her hair back from her face. You watch as her eyes slowly close and her breaths become steady and softer, sleep taking her attention from the movie. 

Sighing softly, you feel your chest tighten at the sight of the little girl asleep in your lap, but more so at the feeling it gives you. You enjoy being close to her. You like that she is happy and feels comfortable enough to sleep. Despite only knowing her for a short time, you find yourself getting attached to Haein. 

Shrugging his coat off, Jihoon furrows his brows tightly as he moves through the house towards the living room and the sound of the television. He was frustrated that you hadn’t been answering his messages, but that last message from you had told him more than enough about why you were acting the way you were. 

He knew how he felt about you, even if it was a little terrifying for him, but if you were going to sulk and avoid him thinking that he was on a date, clearly you felt something for him too. With a plan in mind—to address the problem head-on right away—Jihoon moves into the room, only to stop in his tracks at the sight in front of him. His plan goes right out the window when he sees your fingers lazily brushing through Haein’s hair as she sleeps in your lap. Now there was no way he could avoid how he felt about you, not when you were the picture of everything he wanted in his life right in front of his eyes. 

“Y/N…” Jihoon’s soft voice causes your brows to furrow as you sit up slightly, only to feel his fingers slide along your shoulders to keep you from moving to quickly and startling Haein. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Don’t wake her. She looks so peaceful.” Leaning over your shoulder, Jihoon smiles brightly as he carefully guides his fingers along the side of yours over Haein’s head with a sigh. “She looks happy.” 

Jihoon had never been this close to you before and with where he had just come from, you find yourself leaning your head away from his cheek to give him space before moving your hand from his daughter’s head. “Mm, I hope she is. I can let you take her so I can get out of the way.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jihoon sighs as he turns his head towards you to meet your eyes. “You aren’t in the way, Y/N. Would you stop this? You’ve avoided my messages all evening. I want to talk about what’s going on, but I do want to get Haein in her room first.” Lifting his brows, Jihoon waits for you to nod before he stands back to his full height and moves around the couch to slide his arms under her, pulling her against his chest. 

Glancing over his shoulder as he takes a step towards the hall, Jihoon swallows hard, hearing you shift behind him. “Please don’t leave, okay? For me? Give me like five minutes to put my daughter in her bed and then I’ll be back.” You wanted to tell him no and leave, but the look on his face and the way he phrased his words made you settle back into the couch with another nod. 

Jihoon kept his promise and less than five minutes later, you watched a less put-together Lee Jihoon make his way back into the living room. Running his fingers through his hair, he then unbuttons his sleeves and pushes them up to his elbows before finally meeting your eyes allowing you to see how nervous he really is. 

“I’m pretty tired, Mr. Lee. I should be getting home soo—” 

“I wasn’t on a date, Y/N.”

It isn’t just Jihoon cutting you off that makes you stop, but also what he has to say. Tilting your head, you shift nervously on the couch as he sits down next to you, closer than you anticipate. “That’s what you wrote me. Your last text... To enjoy my date? I was out for a business dinner with Seokmin and his manager. I haven’t been on a date in over two years.” 

It was none of your business. He didn’t need to tell you this and you shouldn’t have even said anything. You feel guilt sitting on your shoulders as you look down at your hands and push your fingers into your palm. “Oh… Well, you don’t owe me any explanations.”

You were so devastatingly beautiful and frustrating at the same time. Scoffing, Jihoon shakes his head as his eyes stay fixed on your fingers as you nervously dig them into your palm. “Clearly I do, and I should have just explained it before when I asked you to stay with Haein tonight. There are a lot of things I need to explain to you, I think, based on how you are reacting and how Soonyoung said you left at work.” 

Now you feel like a fool. Embarrassment washes over you and you lift your head, meeting Jihoon’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m—that’s so… God. I am so embarrassed, Jihoon. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I acted like a child when I left work; I said stupid shit.” 

You watch a smirk pull at Jihoon’s lips before he glances down and nods. Obviously, Soonyoung had told him what had happened, perhaps in detail. “Made me realize that I’m maybe not alone in feeling something between us. If you can get that jealous over the idea of a date.” 

Heat rises along your neck and into your face as you look away from Jihoon at what his words imply. Pressing your lips together, you furrow your brows as your brain goes from misfiring to giving you approximately a hundred reasons to bolt for the door, including the fact that Jihoon is your boss. 

“Am I wrong? ‘Cause I like you, Y/N. I mean, fuck—I really like you.” Trying to hide your smile, you lift your hand, pushing at your lips, before Jihoon’s fingers wrap gently around your wrist, pulling your hand down to your lap as he whispers your name to get you to look at him. “Come on, talk to me.” 

READ THE FULL FIC NOW ON PATREON

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[watermelonsugacry]

harry's 30th birthday blurb with 1d!yn?! 👀

Birthday Surprises

SUMMARY: Harry celebrates his 19th and 30th birthday with the person he loves.

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn, married!ynrry

Since 2010 masterlist

Not to sound ungrateful, but Harry thinks that this was one of the worst birthday celebrations that he's ever had.

Tonight, he just wanted to spend his last year being a teenager having fun with friends—not be completely embarrassed and uncomfortable being strip teased and danced on by strippers. 

Not to mention that afterwards, One Direction’s management team had booked him to do a relationship stunt for the night. So as he walked out of the club and into his security team’s Range Rover, a tall, blonde model was by his side. As bad as it sounded, he couldn’t remember the girl’s name for the life of him. 

Nothing was going to happen with her anyways. All they had to do was a couple of paparazzi pictures of them together before they’re driven off into the night. The driver would discreetly drop her off at her own hotel before escorting Harry back to his. 

So there's not an ounce of uncertainty that when Harry comes out of the elevator, he's absolutely tired and wants nothing more than to be left alone.

He waves his card key in front of the lock and once he hears the little "beep" sound, he pushes the heavy door open.

His irritation and tiredness might have just peaked over its breaking point when he begins to hear rustling from inside. He’s already extremely worn out that he doesn’t even want to put in the effort into putting on a nice face to whoever’s inside his hotel room. But the smile that appears on his face is effortless when he sees YN flicking the wheel of the lighter over some birthday candles sticking out of a chocolate cake.

“Fucking fuck—oh, surprise!” She hops, extending her arms out beside her in what she hopes to look like a grand gesture.

“What’s going on?”

“We’re celebrating your birthday.” 

Anyone a mile away can tell how uncomfortable he was during the whole stripper fiasco. It sucked to have to stand off to the side, a faux smile on her face to see her bandmate in that type of situation. As much as she wanted to stay with him for the other “fun” festivities the night had to offer, she knew that she couldn’t let his birthday end the way it was heading. So she took the chance to leave the club a bit early and hoped that he would be up for one more celebratory, late night hang out.  

“But, but it’s already past midnight,” He blinks, still a little dumbfounded at the kind surprise before him.

"Oh come on, we only have—err—three, ah! Two more minutes until your birthday is officially over." YN pulls Harry over to the small dining table and sits him down in front of his freshly lit cake. It's then that he notices the shaky lettering on the cake that reads, “Happy Birthday Harry!” Letting him know that she went more out of her way for him than she initially let on. 

She comically clears her throat before beautifully yet quickly singing the infamous Happy Birthday song. The song isn't being yelled at to him by a big group of people, and the room isn't jam-packed with people he doesn't know. When he leans over to blow out his candles, he isn't fearful of hands going to the back of his head to stuff his face into the cake.

He doesn’t think twice about wrapping her up in his arms. He squeezes the tops of her shoulders tightly and she nestles into his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, “Thank you.”

The sentiment doesn't, can't go by unnoticed, but it doesn't seem totally out of the norm. This is Harry. A sweet and affectionate person whose love language is undoubtedly physical touch. If anything, it'd be YN feeling the one out of place in this situation. And maybe it was a change of heart towards her anti-touchy feelings or maybe it was because of his birthday. Either way, he's grateful for the way she's letting him hold her. If it were anyone else, she definitely wouldn't wrap her arms around his torso, humming at the warmth he brings.

"Well the night doesn’t have end here,” YN blinks up at him. As if they both realize their close proximity, they slowly pull away to give each other some space. “If you're still up for it and not too tuckered out, I rented that one stupid rom com you like. The one with the guy standing outside with the signs."

"Love Actually? I thought you didn't like that movie."

"Well to be fair, I actually have never seen it. But it’s your birthday and this is sort of part of my gift to you. You know, if you even wanna see it. If not, I can just fuck off and you can sleep because I know you probably had a pretty eventful day—”

She’s rambling. YN’s rambling—a quality she was never prone to particularly show, but it’s cute. He thinks she’s cute. 

“YN,” He chuckles, effectively cutting her off. “I’m down to watch it.”

“Really? Okay, cool. Because I already have the film on queue in the room so that would have been real fooking embarrassing.” Annnd she’s back.

He watches with curious eyes as she carefully slides the heavy cake plate onto her hands. 

She throws a nod towards the kitchenette, “Mind grabbing the forks.”

As much as Harry tries to resist it, he can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. He quickly grabs the two utensils before following behind her to the open bedroom. YN quite literally steps onto the foot of the bed before carefully sitting down, balancing the cake in her hands.

He sits down next to her, handing her the fork just as she begins the movie. They both dig their forks into the middle of the cake, taking out a chunk.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” She says, clicking the ends of their forks together. She happily hums at the delicious dessert but it quickly turns into a groan at the opening aong of the movie. “Ah not this stupid song again. I felt like this was all i was hearing just the other month.”

He’d be lying if he said he was watching more of the movie than her. His cheeks hurt from chuckling at her witty commentary and he tries not to make a big deal about the way she actually started to get into the film. So as he eats cake and spends the rest of the night with his best friend, he thinks that this might be the best birthday he’s had in a long time.

• 11 years later ●

YN stumbles through the front door as Harry cradles her in his arms, his mouth feverishly pressed to hers. They smile through their kisses, and he hums as she runs her finger through his growing curls. Harry kicks the door of their shared home behind him and blindly tosses the keys haphazardly in the general direction of the bowl by the door.

“Okay, okay,” YN pushes against his shoulders, finally getting a breath in, the pair still walking further into their home without separating. “So I know you said you didn't want any more presents—”

“Baby,” the grown man playfully whines. “You've already given me everything.” In all sincerity, she really has in his eyes. He’s been in love with the woman before him since they were sixteen. He wanted to be with her since their time in the band, through the making of their solo albums and everything in between. Even though it’s been a little over a year now, it still brings an explainable peace and warmth to his heart that she’s now his wife; not his friend with benefits, secret lovers, or merely a couple, but married.

And today couldn't have gone better. YN had the whole day planned. They started the day with lazy morning sex that turned into breakfast in bed. They spent the afternoon down by a secluded beach, having an impromptu dip in the water just before eating the lunch she packed for them. Then, after a plane ride to their private villa in Italy, they've just got back from having a beautiful dinner at his favorite restaurant.

“There's nothing more I could possibly want. Ooo, unless you're hiding some sexy lingerie under this fine ass dress you got here.” He says into her the crook of her neck, already sponging kisses onto her skin.

YN lets out a laugh, especially as his fingers begin to bunch up her silk dress. “No! Well, not no but—”

“So you do,” Harry says with excitement, the creases in his eyes appear when he hears her laughter. 

“Just hang on a sec. Your present is upstairs.”

“So I get to unwrap my last birthday present in the bedroom,” He teases her further. Her husband relishes in the way she lets out a girly squeal when he dips down and effortlessly lifts her over his shoulder to bring them into the master bedroom. 

 “Wait, wait,” She pushes as Harry plops them down on the bed, already trapping her underneath him. “Wait here. I’ll be back in a sec.”

Once she's managed to wiggle herself free (with great effort, no thanks to Harry) she scurries off to the connected bathroom.

He sits himself down on the bed, undoing the cuffs of his button up before rolling up his sleeves, preparing himself to see if wife in lacy undergarments that are only begging to be taken off by his teeth. Or torn off. Either one would work.

“H, close your eyes.” YN says from behind the door. “I mean it, no peeking.”

“Alright, alright.” He complies, already feeling a childlike sense of giddy anticipation. 

“Are they closed?”

“Yeah.”

“...are you sure?”

“Yes! For fuck sake’s woman. Being so mean on my birthday,” he laughs.

He feels the bed dip next to him before a kiss is pressed to his lips. Before he can bring his hands to her jaw to deepen the sweet kiss, he feels something being placed in his hands.

“Okay, open them,” she says against his lips.

He pulls back and sees a red box tied with a bow on top. 

“Lovie, you really shouldn't have.”

“Last one, I promise.”

Just to tease her, he brings the small box next to his head and shakes it slightly to hear the contents rattle inside.

YN makes a strategic move by placing one of her hands behind him so her thumb can twist at her rings, knowing that that's her dead giveaway for her nerves.

When he opens the lid, it's only then his face gets serious—lips slightly parted with soft eyes. On top of the pile of confetti lies a pregnancy test. The small, red plus line stares back at him clear as day.

“YN?” When he looks to his love, she begins to hold back her tears at the sight of his watery eyes and pink nose. “Is—wha—are you sure?”

“I took like five of them just to be sure,” she lets out a chuckle.

“We’re having a baby?” Words can't describe the warmth and happiness that fills her chest at his excitement. It's not like they haven't mentioned having kids before. It's been brought up a couple of times, most recently these past two years, but the timing was never right. They were always working; whether it be on making an album, working on themselves, and for the longest time, tour was their babies. But now that their 2 year world tours have ended and they've finally had time to go MIA for a couple of months, it didn't feel like a better time.

The couple wasn't setting up a schedule or anything technical to have a baby. Especially since going on their second honeymoon had been occupying their schedule right after touring was done, they decided that baby making would happen naturally. Whenever their baby decided to enter their lives, that would be the perfect time.

YN nods and before she can say the words to verbally confirm, he has her wrapped in his arms. Harry lifts her off the bed and gives her a little twirl.

As quickly as he picked her up, he's on his knees before her and puts a gentle hand on her tummy.

“Hi, bubba,” he says softly. YN beams at the sight, already wiping at the happy tears running down her cheeks. “I'm your daddy, and I love you so so much.”

After placing a gentle kiss on her stomach, he finally takes his wife's face in his hands and kisses her. It isn't rushed or filled with a sexual need. It's soft and filled with so much love and passion.

“We're gonna be parents, baby. You’re gonna make the best momma," he says sincerely, getting more emotional at the thought of holding a mini YN or a mini him in his arms in less than a year from now.

"And you're gonna make the best dad," she hums. He wraps his arms around the tops of her shoulders, pulling her close to him as she cuddles into him. He presses a kiss to her forehead and sniffs back his tears.

"I love you so much."

“i love you, baby. Happy birthday, Harry.”

.

.

taglist:

@ashtongivesmebutterflies @cacapeepee @thurhomish @armystay89

(Let me know if you wanna be added 💚)

[dailyniallnews]

Niall with Paul Higgins (1D’s ex security guard) and his daughter backstage in Dublin | August 24, 2024

[eddiesxangel]

Let Me Be Your Goodnight | Rockstar!Eddie x Reader

CW: angst, rough sex, possessive Eddie, female fingering, p in v (protected and unprotected) , creampie, biting, light choking, pet names, Eddie and Reader are fuck buddies, but Reader isn't necessarily a groupie? Mutual pining but Eddie is a fuckboi, heavily inspired by Temporary Fix by 1D lol. Not a happy ending?

WC: 4K

For my 1D babes this is for you ��

His eyes were transfixed on you. There you were, front and centre, first row, directly in Eddie’s line of sight. Perfect. You were perfect. He wanted you the second he laid his eyes on you. Your cherry red lips are perfectly in sync with the lyrics falling off his lips. He knew he needed to have you.

He tried to find you after the show, but you were gone before security could reach you. You had slipped through his fingers.

Eddie couldn’t believe his luck when he saw you hours later during the after-party. There you were, across the bar, standing with somebody, but it was clear he didn’t know what you liked, but Eddie knew; he read you like a book. Your body language was not inviting, and the eye roll you gave when the guy leaned in and whispered something in your ear. He knew you didn’t want to talk to this guy any longer.

Remembering how your eyes trailed his sweaty muscles as he performed for the crowd. How you were making his leather pants tighter than when they put them earlier that night.

You watched as Eddie sauntered over to you, pushing the countless bodies, including the guy who was trying to take you home, to get to you.

“Hey gorgeous, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” He leans on the bar, so close you’re almost touching.

“I’m sorry? who are you?” You twirl the straw in your cocktail.

“Feeling bratty tonight, aren’t we?”

You turn your back on him, flipping your hair over your shoulder, Eddie gets a whiff of your sultry perfume as you do. His eyes scanned your back, stopping at the hem of the tight, shiny black mini-skirt.

You feel Eddie walk up closer behind you, his breath cascading down your collarbone, his body heat radiating off of him like a furnace. You couldn’t help but react as his deep, raspy voice whispered in your ear.

“You know what I think, baby? I think you’re getting real tired of running that mouth of yours… maybe I can show you another way to use it.”

“Excuse you?” You snap.

“You know I saw you looking at me first.” He smirked.

“Who do-”

“And when I was on that stage, all I could think about was you waking up in nothing but my shirt, in my bed.” His hand trailed up the side of your leg and around to the hem of your skirt.

A small gasp leaves your lips as you let Eddie’s hand travel further towards your inner thighs that were clenched.

“You don’t have to tell me anything; I don’t have to read your mind… You’re soaked for me, and you have been since you saw me on stage; why else would you be front and centre, hmmm?”

The cocky prick knew your weakness, and your weakness was him.

“Eddie,” your body relaxes into him, and he removes his hand so it’s in a less compromising position.

“Oh, so the Princess does know who I am?”

“Shut up.” You were not very convincing; you were transfixed by him.

“If you're not hooked on anything right now, I can be your vice.” his plush lips grazed that spot on your neck he knew all too well.

Now, this was not the first time you let Eddie touch you. Any time he was in town, you ended up being pulled together like two magnets. You couldn’t help yourselves; you were addicted. But every time you say it’s the last, that it won’t happen again. That’s why you turned your back to him; if you saw those eyes, you knew you would, in fact, be waking up in his t-shirt.

A moan leaves your ruby-red lips as you feel his hand interlace with your own. Before you know it, you’re willingly being pulled by Eddie, and your lips are attached to his neck as he pulls you out of the club, trying to call a taxi.

A million lights flash as you exit the club, and paps and car headlights flash as he surprisingly doesn't cover your face like he usually would. You’ve seen him paps with dozens of other women; he’s always covering their faces, not wanting to show them off… but not you. Not tonight.

Lipstick is tattooed on Eddie’s throat, claiming him as your own. You couldn’t help it; there was something about Eddie that made you act like an animal. It wasn't the fame or the glitz or the glam or even the money, for that matter. It was Eddie, how he commanded the stage, how he carried himself, how he knew exactly what made you tic.

Eddie could hardly get into the car before he felt your body climb on top of him. Your skirt hiked up, and you straddled him in the back seat. Your hips ground into Eddie’s already hardening cock, and Eddie's hands shot up to your ass to keep you from moving.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Need you.”

“Did my baby miss me?”

You didn’t reply, how could you? Truthfully, Eddie was everything you wanted, but he wasn’t cut out for settling down. You knew there was another version of you in each city, and you couldn’t take the heartbreak.

Your lips latched on his neck once again, only this time you sucked the skin until it was black and blue. That could be his problem for his next girl tomorrow, but for right now, he will be yours tonight.

The ride to the hotel in NYC took as long as expected at two in the morning. The paps tried to follow you, but the taxi driver surprisingly lost their tail. Eddie let out a sigh of relief as he pulled you into the hallways off the elevator. Finally, he was back in the hotel room. He wanted you so bad, even if it was temporary; he was desperate for you. You were his favourite; you could actually be someone to him if he would let you, but Eddie was stubborn. Love didn’t exist for Eddie; he knew that.

“Tell me what you want, gorgeous.”

“I need you.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” he ruts his hips into you, pressing you further into the hotel room wall. His lips found your neck, and his hips ground onto you.

You needed Eddie’s hands; his talented fingers were pinning your hands down, but you wanted him to touch you; you needed him to touch you. You squirm under Eddie’s grasp, and he has you right where he wants you. Needy.

“Eddie, touch me already.” You were done with these games; you both were here for one reason. There is no need to beat around the bush or be timid or embarrassed about getting what you want. You wanted him to make you cum, and you were going to get it.

“There’s my girl, knows what she wants”

“Not your girl,” you moan as his fingers trail up your inner thigh.

“No?” Eddie cocks his head because in his mind, you were his favourite.

“Please, I know you, Eds.” You locked eyes. “Tell me to my face I’m the only girl you want... like you were balls deep in someone else yesterday.”

You were right; he couldn’t give you the answer he wanted, but he didn’t want it to be true.

“That’s what I thou-”

“You can own me,” Eddie quickly cut you off, “and we'll call this what you like.” His hands slipped under your panties and across your wet slit finding your swollen clit.

“Eddie!” You moan as your head falls back.

“Good girl, scream my name.” his thick, tattooed, ringed fingers slip past your folds and sink into your walls.

He watched your pretty red lips part as he worked his fingers up inside you, finding that spot deep inside you with ease. He knew your body, studied it, and now he was going to own it, even if it was just tonight.

You trembled below Eddie as his fingers pleasured you like no others could. This is why you keep coming back to Eddie. He knew how to work you, how to please you; he owned you; there was no denying.

“I’m coming!” You gripped his shoulders to brace yourself. It had been a while since Eddie, and you last got together, and he always could get you there quickly.

You needed to wipe that smug look off his face, so you kissed him so you didn’t have to look at him any longer. You push yourself off the wall and walk you and Eddie over to the bed.

Eddie fell back as you climbed on top of him. You needed to feel him under you, you wanted control, you wanted to be the one to give him the most mind-blowing sex of his life that any time he’s inside another girl, you’re the one he’s thinking of. No more temporary.

Grinding your hips down in Eddie's hard cock he lets out a whimper. The squeak of his leather pants against your core, heavy sighs and moans were the only sounds filling the room.

“You want me, Eddie?” You never used pet names with Eddie; it made things too real, and you couldn’t play into the fantasy that he was yours.

“Always, baby.” his chest rose and fell as he lay, and your fingers trailed down his stomach to the waistband of his pants.

“I don’t believe you.” You play with the happy trail leading toward what you want most.

“I’d say otherwise” Eddie cupped his hard cock, gesturing to how much he did in fact need you. You were the one, always.

You take his waistband between your fingers and yank his pants down. Unsurprisingly, he isn’t wearing underwear. His cock sprang free of the tight confines of his pants, and he breathed a sigh of relief. It looked painfully hard, and he looked desperate, needy, and beautiful.

“Tell me what you want, Eddie.”

“Already told you babygirl”

“Tell me again.”

“I want your sweet mouth on my cock; I want you to call me when you’re lonely when you can’t sleep,” he smirked, “You control me, baby, even if it’s just tonight.”

“Shut up” You gripped his hard cock in your hand and rolled your tongue over the tip before taking him as far as you could go. You didn’t let up, you didn’t slow down, you went for it, all in.

You knew he was full of shit, and you wanted to prove to him that he truly was missing out on the best thing that could happen to him.

“Shit, shit, shit, just like that, fuck, that mouth of yours is too good” he gripped your soft hair in his hands.

You worked him to his breaking point, his cock twitched, and you pulled off immediately,

“What the” Eddie stopped mid-sentence as he watched you slowly strip in front of him. His chocolate doe eyes widen as he watches your clothing come off piece by piece. Your exposed skin was calling him; he needed to feel your soft thighs warming his ears, your perfect tits cupped in his hands.

Your last article of clothing fell to the floor, and Eddie's eyes burned into you. He watched as you bent down to pick up his pants. He watched as you found his wallet, pulled it out, and opened it up to find the sealed golden foil he kept inside for times such as these.

You toss his wallet to the side and slowly crawl back to him.

Teasingly, you slowly unwrap the condom, watching Eddie drool as you do. You smirk, knowing you’re making him wait and squirm beneath you.

“Hurry up, baby girl.” He wants to grab the condom from your hand and do it himself so he can throw you around how he likes, but he also wants you to do it; he likes not having to be in control the whole time.

Unlike the others, you knew how Eddie wanted you and how he needed you.

“Patients Ed’s,” you cooed in his ear as your swollen lips trailed down his neck before you sat up to roll the condom on finally. His cock was leaking precum, so you dipped your head down one last time so you could lick it up. Once it was cleaned and clear, you swiftly rolled it down onto his throbbing member and positioned yourself over it so you could sink down.

Riding Eddie was always your favourite pastime; the way he filled you and brushed up against your walls, nothing could compare to that feeling he gave you.

You both let out a moan as you fully enveloped him. Eddie reaches up to grasp your hips to help you move with him. Sure, he loved you on top, in control, but he's only a man; he can't help but fulfill the need to thrust up into you.

Your thighs were burning, but you didn't care. The way Eddie was making you feel was all-consuming. His long hard cock hit that perfect spot every time you bounced down onto him. Skin slapping skin, your breasts bouncing in his face, your pretty mouth left agape in pleasure.

"That's it, bunny. Do you like being my little bunny, bouncing in my cock? This is the only cock that can make you feel this good isn't it?"

You didn't reply; you were too focused on the burning in your thighs and the pleasure building in your core.

Your hand slinked down between you and Eddie so you could rub your clit, giving you enough so your second orgasm of the night could build and build until Edie swatted your hand away.

"Answer me, Bunny," Eddie gritted through his teeth.

"Not your bunny, not yours." You didn't slow down; you only picked up speed.

"Wrong answer," Eddie was annoyed you never played into his little games like the others do.

You felt Eddie steady your waist, stopping you from bouncing, and flip you backwards so you were flat on your back, head almost falling off the foot of the bed.

You let out a startled yelp as Eddie yanks you by your ankles so you are closer to him.

He waists not another second to thrust back into your wet cunt.

"Fuck Eddie!" you cried as he roughly fucks into you. He had your legs pinned by your ears; you didn't even know you were that flexible.

"What was that gorgeous? You're not mine? I think you are, even if it's just tonight." he sneered.

A chain of curses left your mouth as Eddie pounded into you over and over and over again. His large hand travelled up to your chest, surprisingly not resting on your swollen breast but where your heart was.

You were slipping; you were feeling the weakness of your judgment unfold as your impending orgasm grew.

"You're so tight, baby girl; you're so tight for me; I can feel how close you are. You're gripping my cock so good." Eddie spoke as he stroked your hair out of your face. His actions were such a contradiction to how he was abusing your cunt.

"More, Eddie!" you pant.

"No, you know my cock is good enough to make you cum. You've been naughty. This is all you're getting unless you tell me you're mine." His hand slid up from where it was resting on your chest up to your throat, squeezing it hard enough that you still could breathe, but his fingers dug into you so hard there might be a mark left tomorrow.

Fuck him.

"No!" you spit.

"Then this is all you get. He leaned back, releasing your throat from his hands and replaced it with each of your ankles. He steadied himself before jackhammering into your cunt.

You let out a cry, and Eddie's hips slapped hard into you, his heavy balls hitting your ass with each thrust. The tip of his tick-long cock grazing your spot.

Eddie was right; his cock was all that you needed because you were coming in seconds, and he wasn't too far behind. Your body felt like it was dripping fire as your orgasm took over your mind and body.

Eddie fucking loved the way your cunt squeezed down on him every time he made you cum with his cock alone. He knew it was a rarity; he was so proud of himself each time.

He fell on top of you after that marathon of sex you both participated in. He pulled out, discarded the condom, and then went to crawl back into bed with you, but you were already up and halfway dressed.

"Where do you think you are going?" he blocks the door with his lean, naked frame.

"Home to sleep, it's three thirty. I'm tired."

"You think I'm letting you go out by yourself in the middle of the night? Looking like that?" He raises his brow.

Suddenly, the euphoria of the sex you just had completely drains out of you.

"What the fuck is that suppose to mean?"

"It means I'm not letting you, the most beautiful woman I've ever met, go out onto the streets where who knows what is out there so you can get snatched up. No way, you're spending the night; I'll sleep on the floor for all I care. It's not safe right now."

What the fuck was happening? Eddie always threw you out once you were done? And did he call you beautiful? Maybe you did, in fact, fuck his brains out?

"Uh, are you feeling okay?" You hold the back of your hand up to feel if he has a fever because what?

"I'm fine but won't be if you leave." He took your wrist off his head and looked you in the eyes.

"Fine, but you promised me a t-shirt." You decided to cave based on your better judgment. "And you don't have to sleep on the floor. I think we are way past that." You turned to walk back to the bed, slowly stripping for Eddie once more.

Eddie made his way over to the closet and pulled out his favourite shirt to give to you.

"Thanks." You caught it when he tossed it to you. You slip over your head before you turn to the bathroom to get unready the best you can.

Thankfully, the hotel came with a fresh toothbrush, and Eddie had cleanser and moisturizer you could borrow. You didn't bother brushing your hair. You just fixed it with your fingers and then exited the bathroom.

Eddie had just come in from the balcony after having a cigarette when you walked back out.

He drank you in; his shirt hugged you in all the right places. Your face was bare and fresh, but the hickeys he had left on your neck were raw; to him, you had never been more beautiful.

You watched him take you in, then hesitated before getting into the bed.

"Uh, what side do you want me to take?" suddenly nervous about sleeping in the same bed as him.

"I usually sleep on the right,"

"Good, I'm more of a left girl myself." God, that was lame.

"Meant to be," Eddie smirked before turning down the bed.

You tried not to read too much into that comment as you crawled in, lying down and facing away from him. You were stiff and didn't understand what had changed between now and all the other one-night stands.

"If you wanted to be the little spoon, all you had to do was ask baby." His strong arm wrapped around your middle and pulled your back flush to his chest.

Was Eddie Munson cuddling you? What kind of twilight zone have you entered?

"Um, Eddie?"

"Yeah, gorgeous?" He spoke as he nuzzled his face into your hair. You could feel his cock hardening against your ass, and there goes your train of thought. All semblance of a sentence was gone from your lips because Eddie's dick was pressed up against your backside.

You can't help it when your pussy floods itself all over again. You can't help it when your ass starts to grind into him.

"Greedy girl, you wanna go again?"

"You started it," You point out.

"Can't get enough of ol'Eddie, can ya, babygril?"

You let out a whine of frustration. You were supposed to be on your way home, but instead, here you are, begging for Eddie's cock once again because you're weak when it comes to him.

"I'll take that as a yes."

You don't let Eddie speak anymore before you take his cock and align it when your dripping entrance.

"Wait, are you sure?" Eddie asked; you never fucked without a condom before.

You didn't give him a verbal response; you only dragged his tip through your wet folds, confirming that this was what you wanted.

You opened your legs a bit wider to let Eddie glide in easily. Another wave of wetness pulsed out of your pussy as the velvety skin of Eddi's cock brushed up inside of you.

You feel Eddie's teeth sink into your shoulder as his hips slowly thrust into you. Your ass pressing into his bush with each thrust.

"Oh, Eddie!" You cried at the pain of his teeth marking you but also the euphoria that his bare cock was giving you. Eddie pulled you in closer, his hand wrapped around your middle, tweaking your hardened nipple under the sift you were wearing.

"Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, " Eddie spoke with each thrust.

"Yours, yours, yours yours," You agreed, fianllly you gave in.

He then gave in and finally played with your clit as he trusted in you again and again. It was slow and sloppy; he fell out a few times, but it was sex like you hadn't had with Eddie before.

Before, it was always rough and hard, a temporary fix to get off and go. But this was different. This was like he was fucking you as if he cared for you as a person. Not just another one in his little black book

Your mouth hung open as silent screams tried to come out of your lungs. You were speechless.

Eddie didn't say much either, which wasn't normal for him, but it didn't feel right at the moment. He wanted to endure the way your body wrapped around him. The way your cunt tightened when the pad of his finger grazed your swollen clit.

Before you knew it, you were coming undone all over Eddie once again. Your cum flooded over Eddie in a warm wet embrace, and that had him trying to pull out, but he wasn't fast enough. His cum was spurting up into you as his cock spasmed inside of you.

"Holly shit," He panted. Never had Eddie had such intimate sex before, and he didn't want to go back.

"Wow," you said when you started coming back to reality. You could feel Eddie's seed leaking out of you, and you needed to go get cleaned up, but you didn't think you could move.

Eddie peppered soft kisses along your neck and over your cheek before falling back exhausted.

"Good night, gorgeous." He wrapped his arms around you and fell asleep instantly.

The next afternoon, Eddie woke up to find he was alone. A pang of disappointment filled his chest before he spotted the note on your pillow.

"We need to talk."

That was all it said, followed by your phone number.

Eddie's stomach dropped while reading it, and he wasn't sure why, so he chose to ignore it and move on with his day...

You hadn't heard from Eddie for about a month, and it was killing you. Had he not seen the note?

You refused to be the one to reach out; you would not be that girl. So it surprised you when Eddie called five weeks later when he was back in New York.

"Hey gorgeous"

"Eddie, we need to talk."

"Don't think we will be doing much talking with your lips wrapped around my dick" You could practically see the smirk on his face. In any other instance, that probably would have made you roll your eyes and give in, but this was too important to skim over.

"Eddie, I'm pregnant."

Eddie doesn't respond, and you hear the disconnected tone on the other end of the line.

Tagging those who seemed interested:

@stretchedoutonthegrass @starksbabie @ghost-proofbaby @goosterroose @thewayitalknj @hellfirehottie420 @cherrycolas-things @yeah-seems-legit @angelina16torres-blog @stevenyeunslvr @peachysink @tastefullyferal @lofaewrites @catherinnn @dirtyhellfireclub @hereforshmut@lovinnscarletknight @basicanti-socialb-tch @hsllfirescoops @fudgingcas @douxiesaurus @splendiferous-bitch @florabelll @thorfemmes @dirtyhellfireclub @remuslupingf@babyela9 @mouthfullofmunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx@cyberskeleton @oneforthemunny @fallenxcherub @silversprings-mp3 @ashhole0- @ames1stuff @excelentboiledpotatoes @dreamliners @catherinnn @lolzskye @bamquinn @seductiveplumber-blog @yourlittleangel7777 @curtbiddick @corrodedcorpses @cuddle-calum-luke @munsonology @hairieknuckles @lizzylynch1 @american-idiot-jpg @asimpforthe80s @take-everything-you-can @gravedigginbbydoll @purplehazed-h @corrodedcorpses @chrrymunson @penguinsandpotterheads @urhoneycombwitch @allthingsjoeq

[ijustwannabecool]

Hi, I don't know if you take requests, but if you do, I have a big one (sort of?) Idk if you're a fan of 1D, but Theirs a video of Louis (I'll post the link down on the bottom) and his then gf were walking out of the airport. Louis gets annoyed with all the cameras surrounding them (her mostly) and, like you, defends her, but then later finds his gf in the corner with girls on top of her beating her. And I wondered if you could do something like that (angst and a bit of fluff) with either Max or Charles?? If not, it's totally okay.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bljCMQUDeEc

Caught in the Chaos

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary… Charles just won his home race in Monaco. Overwhelmed with emotion, he tries to celebrate — but the chaos of the crowd spirals out of control, and it’s you who gets hurt. In the best moment of his life, he almost loses the only thing that matters.

Trigger warning: Monaco GP victory, emotional overload, crowd chaos, hurt/comfort, protective Charles, raw aftercare 

A/N: I hope I did your request justice and that you enjoy reading it. Let me know what you guys think of the story. Happy reading. Have a beautiful day! 

Request are open (:

Like, reblog, comment, enjoy.

——

The streets of Monaco bled red and white. Ferrari flags. Smoke flares. Banners hanging from balconies.

Charles had done it. Against all odds — after years of heartbreak — he won his home race.

You stood beside him at parc fermé, your hand tightly linked with his, as the roar of the crowd grew deafening. Charles stepped forward slightly, lifting his arms to wave at the sea of fans — and you saw it.

The way his chin wobbled. The way he blinked rapidly, trying to hold it together. The way his heart cracked wide open for everyone to see.

He was overwhelmed. Ecstatic. Broken. Healed. All at once.

You squeezed his hand, grounding him. He squeezed back — almost painfully tight — like you were the only thing keeping him upright.

He needed this. This moment was his.

But Monaco wasn’t built for calm.

Security was thin. The crowds were thicker than anyone anticipated. VIP guests and fans with access poured into the paddock area, chasing the emotion, the euphoria.

You barely noticed how quickly things changed. How fast celebration turned into frenzy.

"There she is!" "Get a picture with her!" "Charles! Look here!"

Charles tensed immediately, slipping into protective mode — positioning himself slightly in front of you without letting go of your hand.

"Please, doucement," he said, trying to reason. "She is not the show."

But no one was listening.

Phones shoved in your face. Hands brushing your arm, your waist. Someone grabbed your wrist — hard.

You gasped, trying to pull away — but the crowd surged forward.

In the chaos, your hand slipped from Charles’s. You stumbled backward, hitting a barrier with a sharp cry.

Pain flared through your ribs. You blinked, disoriented — the world spinning, flashes blinding you.

And then— Charles.

The moment his eyes found you — hurt, vulnerable, scared — something inside him snapped.

The charming boy Monaco adored disappeared. In his place was pure, furious Charles Leclerc.

He shoved through the crowd without apology. Ripped people away from you. Didn’t care about cameras, reputation, PR.

Only you.

He was trembling when he reached you, hands flying over your arms, your face, your sides.

"Amour? Where does it hurt?" His voice cracked mid-sentence.

"I’m okay," you whispered — but you weren’t. Not really.

Charles saw through the lie immediately.

Without a word, he scooped you into his arms, cradling you against his chest.

"You’re safe," he whispered fiercely, over and over, like a prayer. "You’re safe, you're safe, you're safe."

He carried you through the chaos, jaw set, face blank with fury.

He’d won Monaco. But almost lost you in the same breath.

And that was unbearable.

——

Inside the Motorhome

He sat you gently on the couch. Dropped to his knees in front of you.

Tears welled up in his eyes — not just because of the victory — but because he almost didn’t get to celebrate it with you.

"I was waving," he whispered brokenly. "I was looking for you in the crowd. And then—" He choked off, dragging his hands through his hair.

You reached for him, pulling him into your arms.

"You found me," you whispered. "You always find me."

Charles buried his face in your neck, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe — but you didn’t care.

You wanted to be held. You wanted to be his.

He pulled back slightly, cradling your face between his hands.

"I don’t care about Monaco," he said, voice low and fierce. "Not if you’re not here."

You kissed him — soft, slow, reverent — tasting the salt of his tears.

"You won," you whispered against his lips. "You’re safe. We’re safe."

And this time, when Charles cried, he didn’t hide it. Didn’t flinch. He just held you, letting the dam break — in the safety of your arms, the only place he’d ever needed to be.

——

Later that night Charles’s Apartment, Monaco

The drive back was a blur. Charles didn’t let you go for a second — his hand resting on your thigh, his other arm around your shoulders, as if sheer proximity could erase what happened.

He barely spoke. Just pressed soft kisses to your temple whenever he thought you needed them. Or maybe it was him who needed it.

The second you stepped into his apartment, he kicked the door shut and turned to face you, hands hovering.

"Can I?" he asked, voice almost a whisper, fingers twitching like he was desperate to touch you but terrified of hurting you.

You nodded.

Charles exhaled shakily, then lifted you into his arms again — bridal style — carrying you straight to the bathroom.

"I'll run you a bath," he murmured, setting you gently on the counter like you were something sacred.

He moved quietly around the bathroom, filling the tub with warm water, adding salts and a few drops of lavender oil without you even needing to ask.

You watched him — the slight tremble in his hands, the way his brows furrowed in worry.

When he turned back to you, his heart nearly broke again.

You were trying to be brave. Trying to smile for him.

Charles stepped closer, cupping your face with both hands.

"You don't have to be strong right now, amour," he whispered. "Not with me."

Your lip trembled, and before you could speak, he kissed you — featherlight, barely-there, full of apology and adoration.

He helped you undress carefully — gentle, reverent — every scrape and bruise treated like something precious, kissed tenderly as he uncovered them.

When you finally sank into the bath, he sat beside the tub on the tiled floor, not caring about the expensive suit he was still half-wearing, sleeves rolled up and knees tucked to his chest.

"You don't have to stay," you said softly, teasing.

Charles shook his head immediately. "I’m not leaving."

He dipped a washcloth into the water, squeezing it out carefully, and then began to gently wipe down your arms, your legs — his touch so soft it made your chest ache.

"You're safe now," he murmured with every pass of the cloth. "I promise you. You're safe."

After the bath, he wrapped you in the softest towel he could find, dried you off carefully, and helped you into one of his t-shirts — the fabric swallowing you whole.

"You look better in this than I ever did," he said with a tiny, broken smile, thumb tracing your cheek.

He tucked you into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin like he was building a fortress around you. Then, without hesitation, Charles slid in beside you, pulling you against his chest.

You melted into him instantly.

For a while, there was only silence — your fingers tracing lazy patterns over his heart, his hand stroking your back.

"Charles," you whispered after a while. "You can breathe now. I'm okay."

You felt his chest shudder under you. A hot tear slid down into your hair.

"I almost lost you," he whispered back, voice cracking. "In the best moment of my life... I almost lost everything that matters."

You lifted your head, finding his tear-streaked face in the dark.

"You didn’t lose me," you said fiercely. "You saved me."

Charles kissed you then — not a victory kiss, not a celebration — but something deeper. A kiss that said thank you for being here. A kiss that said I will never let you go.

You fell asleep like that — tangled up in each other, wrapped in the scent of lavender and salt and Charles.

And when you woke hours later, the first thing you felt was the warm, steady thud of his heart under your ear, and the strong arms still holding you tight — like he never planned to let go.

Ever again.

The end.

——

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed it. I apologize for any trauma this story may bring. please let me know in the comments what you guys think and if you guys have any ideas please let me know.

[merrybloomwrites]

I'm Sorry If I Say I Need You (One Direction x Reader - Kidnapped)

Summary: You always thought that getting put into a band with 5 boys would be the craziest thing to happen to you. And then you and those 5 boys all get kidnapped and held hostage. After years of being seen as the strong one, will this experience be the one to break you? Or will the support of your bandmembers be enough to save you?

CW: kidnapping, physical violence, mentions of weapons, inappropriate/unwanted touches, manipulation, gaslighting, injuries (Blood, bruising), hospitals

WC: 6K

AN: Please read the tags, as this is a heavy & violent story. I try not to go in depth with those scenes, focusing instead on the interactions between reader and the boys, but I do include some of the violent parts. Don't read if this makes you uncomfortable, I totally get this isn't for everyone and I understand not wanting to read this.

Also I have Paul Higgins playing a role in this. If you don't know how he is, he was the head of security back in the 1D days and the boys called him their dad on tour.

Back when I was doing whumptober I had a random thought about that "Kidnapped by 1D" trope that's been around forever. I thought about reversing it so it's reader kidnapping them instead. And then decided to write a legit story where reader is also a member of the band and they all get taken together. I'd been seeing a lot of different whump tropes and wanted to test myself and write a story with some aspects I'd never done before. This is the result! It is, of course, filled with the boys being protective and comforting and so there's plenty of that mixed in with the whump!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Growing up as the only girl with five older brothers had definitely shaped you. You were strong, tough, sure of yourself. You didn’t put up with any nonsense. You never showed fear, or pain, or weakness. 

All of your brothers were athletic, and you’d spent so much time watching different sporting events. And while you played a number of sports as well, you didn’t excel the same way they did. So you decided to follow a different path.

That path led you to audition for the X Factor. You had big dreams of becoming a famous singer and getting away from the shadow of your brothers. 

And then ironically, you’d somehow been put in a band with five older boys. Well, you were only a couple months younger than Harry, but still. You couldn’t believe your luck. It was somehow good, since you hadn’t been turned away, and simultaneously bad, since you once again had to find a way to stand out from a group of boys.

But you quickly learned that Niall, Liam, Harry, Zayn, and Louis were nothing like your brothers. Sure they were energetic and crazy like them, but they were so different when it came to you. Instead of teasing you and ignoring you because you were young, or because you were a girl, they would support you, compliment you, protect you. 

It was nice, but also a little strange. You didn’t know how to accept all of this, so you put up a wall. While you were friends with the others, you kept a bit of distance. They had a way of trying to almost coddle you, and you refused to let that happen. You were just as strong and confident as them. You didn’t need any special treatment.

This is how it started, and how it stayed. You’re now three years into being One Direction, and the boys have learned how to behave around you. Group hugs and high fives are allowed, but other than that, they didn’t enter your personal space. They’d give you compliments but make sure not to go over the top. And even though their instincts had them anxious to protect you when out in public, to put a barrier between you and the paps or the fans, they knew better, and allowed you to walk solo just like they did. 

It made you feel respected, knowing that they were listening to your boundaries even when it felt wrong to them. And you knew that if you let them get closer or treat you differently than they treated each other, you’d be seen as weaker by the public. So keeping up these walls was necessary for your success.

But on late, lonely travel nights, you find yourself wishing you could let them in. Sometimes you do feel weak, or tired, or not good enough. And you wish you could go to them for comfort. On a number of occasions you almost do, but then they make some comment about how well you handle everything and how they wish they could be strong like you, and you hold back once again. 

That is, until the six of you find yourselves in a situation that pushes you towards your breaking point.

You’re halfway through a leg of tour when some sort of illness travels through your crew. Somehow none of the onstage performers get it, and it seems to be hitting your security team the hardest. On this night in particular, every normal security guard calls out sick and you end up with a group of complete strangers.

It’s weird, but none of you question it, as it seems like the only option at this point. And when the show ends and you’re loading into the van, you’re all too tired to worry about it anyway. You figure they must be safe if management hired them to protect their biggest source of income. 

You're in the middle of the back row, squished between Liam and Niall. Your eyes are heavy, and the motion of the car is soothing, nearly putting you to sleep. 

But then Liam turns and asks, “Does this look at all like the way we came?”

You shrug and say, “I haven’t been paying attention,” and Niall adds, “It’s dark, how are you seeing anything out there?”

“I can see enough to know I’ve never seen this before,” Liam responds. 

“Maybe it’s just a different route,” you say. 

“Could be,” he concedes. It’s quiet again in the car, but as the drive goes on you can sense Liam’s growing agitation. 

“It shouldn’t be taking this long,” he suddenly says into the quiet van. His anxiety is rubbing off on you and you lean over him to look out the window. You still can’t see much. 

But looking inside the vehicle you begin to notice something. The six security guards all look agitated by the conversation. You start to think that maybe something is wrong, that these strangers may be up to something. 

And sure enough, after another minute they turn down a road and begin to floor it. There’s commotion, all of you shouting out to slow down, but then one of the men turns around and holds out a gun. 

“You belong to us now. Shut up, and sit still. When we get to the house you’ll calmly walk inside. Put up a fight and we'll shoot. We have more people waiting at the house, all armed, so we have the upper hand. Got it?”

All six of you manage to nod, though you’re all practically frozen from fear. Niall and Liam each move to grab your hands, and normally you’d shift away, but you can tell they need this more than you do right now. 

The car jolts to a stop, causing you all to slam into the seats in front of you, and you’re all a bit disoriented as you’re taken from the van to the basement of a large house. 

It’s straight out of a thriller movie. Concrete floor and walls illuminated by a single hanging light bulb. Dirty mattress in the corner. Various scary looking objects that you don’t want to know the uses of. 

“This is where we have fun,” says one of the men. There are twelve in total. And as promised, each of them carries at least one weapon. 

“You’ll stay in there,” says another man as he opens a door in the corner of the room. The six of you are pushed inside of a small, carpeted but otherwise bare room, barely big enough for all of you to be able to lay down at once. There’s another door off this room that leads to a bathroom. It’s dirty and smelly but at least you’ll have a private place to pee. 

One thing that’s clear, there’s no way out. 

“You’ll stay in here until we come for you. Oh, and if any of you does any funny business, steps a toe out of line or fights back, she gets it,” says one of the men emphatically as he points at you with his gun. 

The message is clear. And smart. Your band members will do anything to protect you. There’s no way they’ll do something that will put you in danger. Just like that, these kidnappers have prevented any pushback from your group. Not that there seems to be anything you all can do, being outnumbered and unarmed. 

It’s truly a nightmare of a situation. And somehow it’s happening to you. 

“We’ll be back soon,” he says before closing and locking the door. 

The six of you stand there for a moment, utterly baffled and terrified. 

“You okay?” Zayn says, and you look up to see him turned towards you. 

Repressing an eye roll you respond, “Of course not. None of us are. We literally got kidnapped and taken to a friggen house of horrors.” 

“Yea, but he didn’t threaten any of our lives,” Louis adds. 

“Pretty sure all of our lives are in danger,” you reply. “We’re being held captive by psychopaths. I don’t think any of us are safe.”

You sit on the floor, tucking your head between your knees. The others follow, and the six of you sit in silence, all trying to think of a way out of this mess. 

Being left there alone is unnerving, but what’s even worse is when one of the men comes back. He scans the room as all of you silently and fearfully watch him. 

“You,” he finally says, pointing to Niall. “You’re up first.” The man leans down, grabbing Niall and roughly pulling him up. Before anyone can even react, Niall is thrown into the other part of the basement and the door is shut and locked once more. 

While the door muffles the sound, you can all still hear the noises of impacts followed by Niall’s cries of pain. Your imagination runs wild with images of what they might be doing to him. 

After a few minutes the door opens and Niall is shoved back inside before two men grab Zayn. They bring him out, and once again the rest of you are forced to listen as they hurt your friend. Meanwhile Liam checks Niall and comforts him. 

The pattern continues, and each time one of the guys is returned, another is taken. Louis is the last of the boys, and you know it’s your turn next. 

But then Louis is pushed back in, and the man closes and locks it. You’re confused, unsure why they didn’t take you. 

The boys are hurt, but nothing too bad. A couple bruises, a few small scratches, but it could’ve been worse. 

Just when you think you might get away unharmed, the door opens again. “Your turn,” says the man as he looks at you, a disturbing smile on his face. 

You see the boys move to block you but you subtly shake your head and stand up and walk towards the door, accepting your fate. 

“Good girl,” he says, causing you to shiver in disgust. Once out of the small room, you’re thrown to the concrete floor and all twelve men surround you. 

There’s a kick to your back and it knocks the air out of you. And you gasp for breath, another kick lands on your stomach. You’re pulled up, held in the air by two men as others take their turns hitting you. 

Suddenly they stop, the men dropping you and you land harshly on the floor. Finally you can catch your breath, but you warily watch the men, waiting for another blow. 

It doesn’t come. Instead, the man in charge crouches in front of you, causing you to recoil, but he grabs you by the hair to keep your face close to his. 

“You’re the one we want,” he says. You stare at him in confusion. “We didn’t want the boys. But it was impossible to get you alone. Oddly enough it was easier to take all of you. But just know, they are in this mess because of you. So you’d better behave.”

With that he lifts you up and pushes you back into the small room. Immediately after the door closes, the boys surround you, trying to ask if you’re okay, but you put up your hands, alerting them not to touch you. They give you space and you tell them you’re fine, and while they know that’s not true, they also know not to press you to talk. 

You sit in a corner of the room holding your head in your hands. You hear the others talk but your mind is too busy to listen to them. 

After some time they all lay down to sleep, but guilt keeps you awake. You notice the way they’re all comforting each other, even as they sleep. Liam and Harry are laying together while Louis is holding both Zayn and Niall. 

You wish you could curl up with them, get comfort from them, but that would be selfish. 

They’re in this mess because of you. They’re hurting and it’s all your fault. So no, you don’t deserve to be held. You deserve to suffer. 

Eventually you fall asleep only to be woken a couple hours later by the door slamming open. Water bottles and granola bars are tossed in the room and the door shuts once more. 

“Guess breakfast is here,” Louis says. It’s not much, but at least you won’t starve or dehydrate. 

All six of you eat in silence, and as soon as you’re done the door opens. Liam is taken first this time, and the pattern from last night continues. You’re all taken three times throughout the day, after every meager meal that you’re given. 

You’re always last. The order of the boys switches up, seems random. But you’re always saved to be the final person. After lunch you’re told it’s so that you can see the pain your bandmates are experiencing because of you. 

It keeps you docile, willing to take whatever beating they give you. 

Which is more than they give the boys. You’ve noticed that when the others come back they only have one or two new injuries each time. Just enough to keep them in line. They boys have also mentioned it’s only two guys there each time they’re taken. 

For you, it’s always the full dozen. And they all take turns. It feels like every inch of your body is covered in bruises. 

But you make sure not to let the boys see. They tend to one another, make sure they’re all eating, and hold each other whenever someone needs comfort. 

As you’re reminded each time the men have you in their grasp, you don’t deserve that comfort. The pain your friends are feeling is your fault. 

The men never explain why they want you, just that they need to have you. It had been their goal for years, getting you in their grasp. 

Another fitful night of sleep passes followed by another nightmare and pain filled day. There is however an obvious shift on that second full day. While you’re all once again taken three times, the boys are brought back after only a few minutes. Their time with the men dwindles, and yours gets longer. 

That evening they take you for nearly two full hours. You know what they want. They’re searching for your breaking point. You refuse to let them find it. They give up out of sheer frustration and throw you back in the room. 

No matter what you’d experienced the last few days, you always landed on your feet. 

Until now. 

You stumble, falling into Zayn. He catches you and gently lays you on the ground. He goes to pull away, knowing you don’t like to be touched, but you grip his shirt in your fists. 

Zayn looks at you questioningly and you murmur, “Stay. Don’t let me go.”

“I won’t, I’ve got you,” he replies. He turns to Liam next to him and says, “Help me get her settled. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Of course, what do you need?” Liam says, altering you to his presence beside you. One of your hands releases Zayn and instead reaches out for Liam. 

“Do you want us to lay down with you?” Liam asks. 

A weak nod is all you can manage, but it’s enough. Zayn settles on one side of you with Liam on the other. 

Louis kneels by your head, and you look at his upside down face hovering above you. “Can we check your injuries, love? Please?” 

You can hear the concern in his voice so you nod once more. Giving them permission to see the extent of the beatings you’ve taken is the last thing you want to do. 

But you’re exhausted. And scared. And in so much pain. 

It’s time to take the wall down. It’s time to let them in, let them take care of you. 

Louis starts with what’s visible on your face. There isn’t much there, but he wipes away the bit of blood on your cheek. 

“Can Harry lift your shirt to check your belly?” Louis asks and you nod again. 

You hear a chorus of gasps as your shirt is moved. You don’t need to look to know it’s not a pretty sight. 

“This isn’t good,” Harry says quietly. His hand brushes one of the bruises and you cry out in pain. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry. Y/N, this is bad. Like, I think you have internal injuries,” Harry states. 

“Who made you a doctor?” You quip weakly. 

“Don’t need to be one to know a serious injury,” Niall says. “What have they done to you?” His voice is laced with horror and sadness, and you start to zone out. You know you’ve taken a beating, can feel it all over. But hearing the boy's reactions to it is even worse. Makes it more real. 

Harry and Niall continue to check your body, wiping any blood they see and pressing cool water bottles to some of the worst bruises. But you don’t react anymore, choosing instead to turn your head and tuck into Liam.

Louis pets through your hair gently and Zayn holds your hand, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. You focus on these touches and drift off to sleep. 

You startle awake the next morning, and the first thing you notice is that you’re surrounded by the boys. It makes you feel warm, safe. 

And then you realize who else is in the room. 

“This looks cozy,” says the man. You still don’t know their names, but you do know their temperaments. This one doesn’t hit as hard physically, but he knows how to attack you emotionally. “So sweet of them to comfort you, Y/N. Especially considering why you’re all here.”

It’s a brutal reminder, one the others don’t understand but you do. The guilt sets back in, and you do your best to move away from the boys. You don’t deserve to be taken care of, and last night's moment of weakness can’t happen again. 

“Actually, why don’t we have a little chat, make sure you remember the details of the situation,” he adds. 

“Y/N, what is he talking about?” Liam asks, but you play dumb, giving a confused shrug in reply. 

“Good act,” the man says. “Let’s go,” he adds as he moves in to grab you. The boys move to block him, but you go around them. Maybe letting the men hurt you will ease the guilt of putting your friends in this situation. You feel even worse after showing such weakness last night. 

So you follow the man, bracing yourself for the hours of pain you’re about to endure. 

But what happens next is worse than you can imagine. There’s no pain, they don’t hit or punch or kick this time. They don’t even throw you to the ground like usual. They’re gentle. Sure, it’s not painful. But the feeling of their hands dragging along every part of your body practically burns you. Makes you want to vomit, right on them. If you do, maybe they’ll stop. Maybe they won’t keep touching you in places no one should be. 

Before you can do that, they all back away. “We’re thinking of letting the others go,” one of the men says. It takes you a minute to comprehend that he’s talking, and when you finally understand, you look at him in confusion. “That got your attention huh?”

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

“We really only wanted you, remember? We have another house. We’ll be taking you there tonight. The other five will be left behind. We’ll send a message to your security tomorrow so they can come rescue them. You will be long gone when that happens. Isn’t that nice, though? Your friends will be okay. You should be happy, they’re in this mess because of you. And now they’ll be free. Don’t you want that?”

Knowing they want an answer, you nod curtly. And you do want the boys to be free, to be safe. But they’ve been a comfort to you these past days, and the selfish part of you wants them to stay. You can endure what these horrible men throw at you because you have a safe place to return to, even if it is a tiny, gross room. At least you have friends with you.

But you can’t think like that. If they have a way out, of course they need to take it. Even if it means you’ll never get away. That these horrible people will be able to continue doing whatever they want to you. That will be your punishment for endangering your friends. 

“Enjoy the day with them,” says the man as he begins leading you back to the room. “It’s the last time you’ll ever see them.” With that he opens the door and guides you inside before leaving you alone with the others. 

They’re quickly at your side, obviously wanting to comfort you like they had the night before, but you hold out your hands, indicating you want space. 

“Y/N,” Niall starts, “Please let us help with your new injuries.”

“I don’t have any,” you reply.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

“They didn’t touch you this time?” Louis says next.

“I didn’t say that,” you state sardonically. 

“I don’t understand,” Zayn adds.

It’s quiet for a moment as you take a deep breath. Finally you look up, your eyes meeting Liam’s. It’s clear the second he understands what happens, his gentle, worried expression shifting to anger.

“I’m going to fucking kill them,” he exclaims, startling all of you.

“What the fuck just happened?” Niall asks.

“They touched her,” Liam says, his voice practically a growl. This time the rest do understand, horror, anger, and pity on their faces. Harry and Zayn move closer, obviously wanting to comfort you, but you cannot have that right now. “Please, don’t,” you say and they all step back further, giving you space.

Louis grows more agitated, walking to the door and saying, “Liam has the right idea, they can’t fucking get away with this.” He grabs the door handle forcefully, fully expecting it to be locked like normal, and gets thrown back when it simply opens. 

The six of you stand there, shocked and confused, and Louis slowly and carefully closes the door again. 

“The moron forgot to lock it?” Niall asks.

“Seems so,” Liam replies. 

“Was anyone out there?” Harry asks.

Louis silently peeks out again, confirming the basement is in fact empty. 

“There’s a window,” Liam says. “They opened it one time when I was with them. Guys, it’s a way out.”

“And then what?” Zayn asks. 

“Then we fucking run for our lives, that’s what,” Louis says.

“They have guns, Lou. What if they’re out there waiting for us?” Harry adds.

“At this point we have to take the risk. We’ve been here for days. What if they never let us go? What if no one finds us? We have no other way out,” Louis answers.

“Yes you do,” you interject.

They all look at you questioningly. You take a deep breath, knowing you need to tell them the truth. That way they won’t risk their lives on this insane break out plan. “It’s my fault you’re all here. They didn’t want you. Just me. But they couldn’t get me alone so they took all of us. Tonight they’re taking me to another location, and tomorrow they’ll tell security where you are and you’ll be rescued. You have a way out, please don’t get hurt now.”

There’s another moment of silence while they process this information. 

“Right, okay, we’re going. Now.” Harry says.

“Didn’t you hear me? You’ll be safe!” 

“Do you think we can just leave you with them?” Liam asks. “No way. We’re all going or no one is.”

“We’re not leaving you behind. That’s insane,” Niall says. 

“Please don’t be stupid,” you implore them.

“You’re the stupid one if you think we’d go without you,” Louis retorts. 

“This is my fault-”

Zayn cuts you off saying, “Y/N, this is not your fault. I don’t know what those awful people told you, but they are the only ones to blame. You did not do this to us.”

“But they-”

Liam is the one to interject this time, “They are terrible people who do terrible things. For all you know they’re lying to you to manipulate you. They could be lying about letting us go.”

You hadn’t thought of that. When you don’t speak right away Louis takes his chance to explain what little plan he has. 

“We just have to run for it. The window is pretty high. Liam you go first, then Zayn. Harry and I will help Y/N. Harry, you're tallest, you’ll be able to reach the best so you’ll go last. Once we’re free, run. We need to find a person or a house where we can call for help. Everyone got it?”

The rest of you nod. Louis peeks out one more time to make sure the coast is clear, then you all spring into action. The first step of the plan goes shockingly well. You’re all full of adrenaline, and getting through the window without a problem fills you with hope. 

After a few minutes of running you start thinking you might actually be in the clear. 

The adrenaline wears off. 

And the full pain of your injuries comes back. 

Running becomes harder, every inhale burning not only your lungs but your whole torso. There’s blood soaking your clothes, and you have no idea if you’ve exacerbated a previous injury or gotten a new one. 

You gasp, stumbling and nearly falling to the ground. Liam catches you, encouraging you to keep going, but it’s like your brain and body are no longer connected. As much as you try, you can’t keep going. 

Liam senses this and puts his arm around you, helping you stay upright and continue moving forward. 

There’s a house up ahead, the obvious destination. You’re close, and then you hear the noise behind you. 

The van that you’d been in when this all started is barreling towards your group. They’ve nearly caught up, and you feel like just giving in, admitting defeat. 

But Liam won’t let you. “Everyone just keep going!” He yells. 

A figure runs out of the house up ahead, followed by at least 20 others. All in uniform. All armed. 

You’re scared at first, not knowing if they’re there to help you or help your captors. And then you see him. Paul Higgins. Your true guardian angel. 

The van has stopped following, now surrounded by law enforcement, but the six of you can’t stop. Can’t understand that the danger is gone. 

Paul, along with a few other members of your normal security team surround you to check if you’re okay. The boys assure them that they only have minor injuries, all saying the same thing: “Help Y/N,” “Y/N’s hurt”, “Y/N needs help”. 

The next thing you know, Paul is reaching for you, picking you up and cradling you to him. “You’re safe now,” he says quietly, and you start to believe that. 

He carries you towards the house, explaining that they’d gotten a tip the night before and were searching the area, the homeowner allowing them to use the place as a base of operations. 

You hear sirens growing louder, and multiple ambulances pull up. Seeing this, Niall says “Paul really, we’re okay. They really only focused on Y/N. We’ve just got some scrapes.”

“You’ll all be going to the hospital and getting checked by a doctor. No exceptions.”

“Yes, dad,” Louis says, but it doesn’t have the normal teasing tone. At this moment, you’re all very grateful for this man you call your tour dad. 

When Paul goes to set you down on a stretcher you begin to panic, clutching his shirt the way you had with Zayn the night before. 

“I’m not leaving you, I promise. But you have to let them take care of you so you can get better,” he says. 

It’s hard to let go but you do manage. As promised Paul stays by your side the whole time. The ambulance ride feels forever, and the longer you lay unmoving, the more pain you feel. 

You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel Paul gently wipe tears off your face. You turn to look at him and he gives you a sad smile, saying “I know sweetheart. It’s all over now. I’ve got you.”

He’s able to hold your hand, and he gives you a reassuring squeeze. It’s the last thing you’re aware of before your world turns black.

The first time you wake up, there’s chaos around you. Doctors yelling about internal injuries and needing scans, nurses hooking you up to different wires and tubes. A doctor gives another order, and something is pushed through your IV, and once again everything fades away.

The next time you wake is much calmer. You’re in a patient room, your body wrapped in gauze. Paul is sitting beside your bed, once again holding your hand. This time you squeeze his, and he looks up, clearly relieved to see your eyes open. 

He tells you about your injuries, the treatments and surgery you went through, and how you’ll be in the hospital for a few days before needing to recover at home for weeks. 

“What about the boys?” is your first question.

“They’re okay. Minor injuries. Doctors are keeping them overnight to be safe but they should all be released tomorrow,” Paul answers.

“Good. I’m glad they weren’t hurt.”

“Louis told me you think this is your fault.”

“It is. They were all taken because of me.”

“Sweetheart, you need to know that’s not the truth. We found a letter from them, after they took you all, and it was clear they always planned to take the whole band.  You are not to blame. You didn’t do anything or make anything happen.”

“It’s not my fault?” You ask. 

“It is not your fault,” he says, his voice strong and sure. 

“It’s not my fault,” you say. 

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he answers as he strokes the hair out of your face. 

A moment later a few nurses and doctors enter. They tell you the injuries you sustained and what they’re doing to treat them. They ask questions that you do your best to answer. Finally they finish taking vitals and leave once more. You’re grateful, as you’ve started to feel tired again. 

“Sleep, I’ll be here all night,” Paul says. With that reassurance, you close your eyes and immediately fall asleep. 

The next time you wake up the clock on your table reads 7:12am. You’d slept almost ten full hours. As promised Paul is there, sleeping uncomfortably on the couch. 

There’s a nurse in the room, and she smiles when she sees you watching her. 

“Good morning, I’m just going to take your vitals,” she says. When she finishes that she and another nurse help you to the restroom, and you're glad your injuries haven’t completely bedridden you. You’re given a light breakfast, and while you don’t have the biggest appetite, you do enjoy a little hot food after days of nothing but granola bars. 

After you’ve eaten, the doctor comes to check on you, making sure you’re doing well and changing some of the bandages. 

You’ve been awake a couple hours when Paul gets an update. 

“Louis and Zayn are getting discharged now,” he says. 

“What about the others?” 

“Should be later today. Apparently their doc was called away before he could get to everyone so they need to wait a bit.”

“Are Louis and Zayn leaving?” 

“We’re figuring that out.”

“Can I see them?” 

“I think I can make that happen. Are you alright here for a few minutes if I go help the boys?”

While you don’t want him to leave, you know the others need him as well so you say, “Yea, I’ll be okay. I’m kind of tired again, can I sleep?”

“Of course you can, darling. Get your rest, it’ll help you heal. I promise I won’t be far, and Ryan is right outside if you need anyone.”

You do feel better knowing Ryan is there, since he’s basically Paul’s second in command. 

Without realizing you’ve even fallen asleep the next thing you’re aware of is voices around you. 

“She’s really going to be okay?” You hear Zayn ask worriedly. 

“She’s going to be fine. It’ll take some time for her to heal but she’ll make a full recovery,” Paul explains. 

“You’re sure?” Niall asks, his voice unsteady. 

“I’m sure. The doctors said she’ll be okay. And you know her, she’s strong.”

Strong. The word most used to describe you. But you don’t feel that way right now. You were hurt, bruised and bloodied. You don’t want to be strong anymore. 

“Can I be done?” You ask. 

They boys all turn to you, gathering by your bedside now that you’ve woken up. 

“What was that? We didn’t hear what you said,” Liam asks. 

“I want to be done,” you reply. 

“Done with what, love?” Louis questions. 

“Being strong. I don’t wanna be strong right now.”

“That’s okay,” Louis answers. “You don’t have to be. Lean on us.”

“Yea, we’ll take care of you!” Niall adds. 

“Thank you. I’m just so tired.”

“I know. You’ve fought hard, now you can rest,” Zayn says. 

You smile softly at them, and then realize someone’s missing. 

“Where’s Harry?” You ask, your voice laced with panic as your heart rate skyrockets. 

“He’s okay!” Louis quickly assures you. “He just needed one extra test before they could discharge him.”

“Why? What was the test?”

Liam answers this time, explaining, “His oxygen was a bit low when they brought us in yesterday so they’re making sure everything’s fine. Which it is. It was just low because of his asthma and all the running we did. He’s fine. He’ll be here soon.”

As though being summoned, Harry walks in a moment later. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, rushing to your side when he sees how upset you are. 

You take a deep breath, relieved to have all five of your boys with you. 

“Don’t leave me. Please,” you beg.

“We won’t,” Harry replies. “We’re all here. We’re all sticking together. We promise. Right?”

The others all nod, Harry and Niall each holding your hands to reassure you with comforting contact. 

For the rest of your hospital stay, they keep their promise to the best of their ability. None of them are allowed to stay overnight, but all five of them are there with you during every minute that visitors are welcomed. 

When you’re finally discharged, you go to the house the boys have been staying at. Of course their families all wanted them to go back to their respective homes, but they couldn’t bear to be away from you. 

Your parents also hoped you’d be coming home while you recovered, but it would feel strange to go back there. You’re not the same person you were the last time you left. You just can’t go back just yet, not when so much has changed. 

So the six of you, along with Paul and a few other security guards, all live together for the months following the incident. You’re given your own room, but you rarely spend a night alone. At first someone was staying with you in case you needed help at night while you continued to recover from your physical injuries.

They kept taking turns staying with you when it became clear your nightmares wouldn’t go away. The couple of nights that you did spend by yourself you’d woken up screaming and crying, calling out for the boys, panicking that they were gone. 

From then on they had a rotation on who would stay with you. Having one of them in your bed often kept the bad dreams away, and when the nightmares did happen, whoever was there could quickly calm and reassure you that everything was okay. 

After seven months of recovery and planning, it’s finally time to restart tour. Your emotions are going wild leading up to that first show, but the second you get on stage, you feel alive again. For months you hid away, leaning on your bandmates and truly feeling like a diminished version of yourself. 

You’d needed that in order to heal. Letting yourself be vulnerable allowed for others to help build you back up. 

And now you feel like yourself again. You know this experience will stick with you forever, and you’ll be dealing with the mental impacts of this for years to come. But you also know that Harry, Liam, Niall, Louis, and Zayn will always be there for you whenever you need them. 

You turn towards them at the end of the show, right before final bows, and find them all watching you, their faces full of admiration, awe, and love.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thank you for reading!

After everything that happened recently I knew I needed to give Paul Higgins a moment in the spotlight.

[allwaswell16]

[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]

Iconic fics by ...

- disgruntledkittenface -

[1]

“So,” he says casually, looking from Nick back to Louis, “you and Nick didn’t come back to the bar last night.”

And the sentence just hangs in the air between them, like an accusation. Louis can practically see the effort Harry’s putting in to keep his face neutral, but the intense frog expression creeps its way back in. And suddenly Louis get it.

Harry is jealous.

He wants to laugh. It’s preposterous to think of, being jealous of Nick of all people. Nick who can see Louis’ feelings for Harry written all over his face and in everything he does.

“Yeah, after we went for a smoke, I just felt like going home,” Louis explains, biting back a smile. Knowing he’s not being clear enough, he continues, “Nick just walked with me, stretching those ridiculous legs of his, I guess, but Liam picked him up as soon as we got back to my apartment building.”

Harry is still glowering. It’s ridiculous. It’s so fucking cute. Louis is so fucked.

[2]

“I do! We do,” Harry says, looking at Louis, who smiles warmly at him. “I just always thought I would adopt, but I guess I see the issues here for, like… succession?”

“Yes, my successor has to be a biological relative,” Louis says gently. “Lottie wants no part of it, that’s why she was so eager to donate eggs. And I’m not sure if she’ll have children of her own.”

“It is actually a matter of state,” Hervé adds, not unkindly. “Securing the line of succession secures Monaco’s status as an independent principality. If there is no biological heir, upon the prince’s passing then the state would be absorbed by France.”

“Oh, fuck,” Nick mutters, summing up how Harry feels. Well, he wasn’t wrong when he tried to tell Harry what a big fucking deal all of this would be. 

[3]

“Sorry to bother,” he says lowly, dripping sarcasm. “But would you mind shutting the fuck up? You’re ruining the show for the rest of us with your passive-aggressive bullshit.”  

Harry automatically twists around to see the couple’s response; it looks like husband is gearing up for a retort, but there are quiet murmurs of agreement from the people around them, and the man on his seatmate’s other side even claps him on the back in thanks. Chagrined, the couple slump down in their seats, their lips unhappily sealed.

Harry turns to the man next to him, who’s already looking at him from under the smudge of long, dark lashes that frame his blue eyes. A slow grin overtakes Harry’s face as he meets the man’s steady gaze. For once his words don’t fail him, and he leans in just close enough so the man will be able to hear him as he whispers “thank you.”

[4]

“Is that another new tattoo, Z?” she asks, reaching out and gently turning Zayn’s arm to get a better look. “Oh, yin yang, right?”

Louis immediately squeezes Harry’s thigh, turning to her with wide eyes, but Harry’s too busy fishing for a thin slice of cucumber at the bottom of her glass to register what’s happening. Zayn is still holding her arm out so Liam can see the tattoo when she glances up and Louis pointedly looks from her to the tattoo and back again. Harry’s confused face is adorable, she looks like a disgruntled kitten trying to surmise what Louis is attempting to silently communicate. It takes a minute, but understanding finally dawns in her eyes and she claps her large hand over her mouth, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

“What?” Zayn asks, throwing a dirty look at them.

“Nothing,” Louis manages in a strangled voice. “Nothing! Great tattoo. Harry? Shall we?”

- Answers Below -

[1] you came into my life

They stand around talking for a minute and then Jonathan starts to ramble, “Has there ever been, like, an unrequited gay love story in here? Like a Brokeback Mountain moment where, like, someone just fell in love and they didn’t mean to?”

Louis feels bile rise in his throat as Jonathan’s eyes sparkle, pleading for a yes. He manages to look around and see thoughtful looks on his coworkers’ faces before their heads shake no.

“Not here,” Liam says finally.

When the Queer Eye cast and crew sweep into Louis’ small town and fire station to make over his best friend and coworker Liam, Louis’ carefully constructed walls start to fall down and he has to face his fears – and the only guy he’s ever been able to see a future with.

[2] Darling, so it goes

Harry Styles is a world-famous actor at the height of his career but a personal low point when he meets His Serene Highness Prince Louis of Monaco by chance. He doesn’t think they’ll ever see each other again, but after striking up a correspondence, it turns out they have more in common than he thought. Then they start to fall for each other. Louis is different from anyone Harry has dated before and their relationship moves fast as Harry realizes he’s ready for a change. Soon Harry finds himself adapting to an entirely new life, in a country where he doesn’t know the rules, the customs, even the language. Harry is used to people underestimating him, and he’s more determined than ever to prove them wrong.

He just needs Louis to meet him halfway.

Grace Kelly AU.

[3] just one look (and i fell so hard)

Louis takes a small step back, breaking the moment first. “Well, I should–” 

“Do you want to come up?” 

The words are out of Harry’s mouth before he’d even planned them, and he bites his lip.  

“Oh, thank god,” Louis laughs, stepping back into Harry’s space. “I wasn’t, um…” 

“Wasn’t ready to let go of you yet,” Harry finishes quietly, glancing up at Louis. 

“Yeah,” Louis nods, reaching up and twirling one of Harry’s curls in his fingers. “Yeah, exactly.”

Harry has wanted to go to the Shubert Theatre ever since he moved to New York and lucked into a rent-controlled apartment just outside of the Theatre District. When he finally gets his chance, he hopes the night can meet his sky-high expectations. But the last thing he could have expected was the man seated next to him.

[4] i must admit i thought i'd like to make you mine

Louis fell apart when her ex broke up with her and moved across the country. Just as she’s starting to move on, Zayn comes back to town for their mutual friends’ wedding – with a new girlfriend as her plus one.

Blindsided and scrambling to save face, Louis lets herself get talked into a fake relationship with her new friend Harry. Their arrangement makes Louis feel pathetic and embarrassed, but it’s only going to last a few weeks. She just has to get through the wedding – what could happen?

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Fiction Free-for-All Book Bracket Tournament: Round 1D

Book summaries and submitted endorsements below:

The Murderbot Diaries series (All Systems Red, Artificial Condition, Rogue Protocol, Exit Strategy, Network Effect, Fugitive Telemetry, System Collapse, and other stories) by Martha Wells

Endorsement from submitter: "My favorite sci-fi spacefuture world where being queer + polyam is normal and yet the protag is still queer in its own special way <3"

"As a heartless killing machine, I was a complete failure."

In a corporate-dominated space-faring future, planetary missions must be approved and supplied by the Company. For their own safety, exploratory teams are accompanied by Company-supplied security androids. But in a society where contracts are awarded to the lowest bidder, safety isn’t a primary concern.

On a distant planet, a team of scientists is conducting surface tests, shadowed by their Company-supplied ‘droid--a self-aware SecUnit that has hacked its own governor module and refers to itself (though never out loud) as “Murderbot.” Scornful of humans, Murderbot wants is to be left alone long enough to figure out who it is, but when a neighboring mission goes dark, it's up to the scientists and Murderbot to get to the truth.

Science fiction, queernorm, novella, series, adult

The Splinter in the Sky by Kemi Ashing-Giwa

The dust may have just settled in the failed war of conquest between the Holy Vaalbaran Empire and the Ominirish Republic, but the last Emperor’s surrender means little to a lowly scribe like Enitan. All she wants is to quit her day job and expand her fledgling tea business. But when her lover is assassinated and her sibling is abducted by Imperial soldiers, Enitan abandons her idyllic plans and weaves her tea tray up through the heart of the Vaalbaran capital. There, she learns just how far she is willing to go to exact vengeance, free her sibling, and perhaps even secure her homeland’s freedom.

Science fiction, space opera, spy thriller, politics, adult