#zayne fluf

[saintobio]

₊˚⊹♡ daddy doctor saves the day!

pairings. zayne/li shen, fem!reader

tags. 1.6k wc, dad!zayne, mom!mc, domestic fluff, slice of life, established relationship, brief mentions of pregnancy, zayne in scrubs *phew* bc need i say more. divider by anitalenia.

if zayne were ever to have kids, he’d have liked two.  

a girl and a boy. not because he believed in symmetry or balance, but because he imagined them leaning on each other the way siblings in picture books did—arms slung over shoulders, shared secrets in the dark, always knowing they weren’t alone. that’s what he’d wanted for them. companionship and safety.

and that day, in the quiet lull following a ten-hour triple bypass surgery, he was reminded of that wish.

you sat on the little couch tucked into the corner of his office, the one he’d insisted on keeping even when they offered to replace it with something more suitable for the chief cardiac surgeon. but that couch had warmth stitched into its seams, and it reminded him of home. the kids were curled up beside you, both fresh from school, still in their matching navy sweaters and slightly crooked socks. your daughter, older by two years, had her head resting in your lap, while your son perched at the edge of the cushion, his feet swinging above the floor.

“mommy,” he asked, his voice sticky with curiosity, “how does daddy fix hearts?”

you smiled, smoothing your daughter’s hair back from her forehead. “well,” you began, your tone soft and thoughtful, “he does surgery. that means he opens the chest to get to the heart.”

they both stiffened with the delighted kind of horror only young children could summon. “he cuts people open?” your daughter gasped, her eyes going round.

you solemnly nodded. “yes. he makes a careful cut. then he opens the chest so he can see the heart. it’s very delicate work.”

your son’s face crumpled in awe and fascination. “like a... like a treasure chest?”

“kind of,” you said, chuckling, “only instead of gold, there’s a heart inside.”

your daughter shuddered dramatically. “ew! that’s so creepy.”

zayne stood in the doorway then, unnoticed. still in his navy scrubs, cap tucked into his waistband, his hair a little messy from hours spent in the OR. he looked tired, shadows carved beneath his eyes, but his mouth tugged into a quiet smile. you didn’t see him yet, but he saw you—all three of you—and it filled something deep in his chest he hadn’t realized had gone hollow during the hours of cutting and stitching and praying beneath the surgical lights.

“do people die?” your son asked suddenly, looking up at you with wide, serious eyes.

“sometimes,” was your honest answer. “but daddy works really hard to make sure they don’t. he’s the best there is.”

“so he’s like a superhero,” your daughter concluded. “but for hearts.”

before you could respond, you heard the subtle shift of shoes on linoleum, and turned your head to see the man of the hour. leaning against the frame of the office door, arms crossed, tired but watching the three of you with a soft, fatherly smile. you just couldn’t ever get used to the way your heart raced at the sight of your husband. 

“you guys talking about me?” he asked, his voice a little hoarse from hours of breathing through a mask.

“daddy!” and of course, his kids squealed in unison, springing from the couch and bolting toward him. he caught them both easily, pulling them against his sides like puzzle pieces falling into place. his hands were still cool from scrubbing out, but they didn’t seem to notice. or maybe they didn’t care. they were too busy clambering over one another to tell him everything you’d just said.

“daddy! you cut people open!”

“you open their treasure chest!”

zayne laugh came out raspy, and you knew that meant exhaustion. but the joy in his eyes concealed the tiredness he carried. “is that what mom told you?”

“uh-huh! and then you look at their heart and fix it like legos!”

you raised your brows at him. “legos? that didn’t come from me.”

your husband shrugged, adjusting your daughter on his hip. “not technically wrong.”

“do you use glue?” your son asked seriously, squinting up at him.

“sometimes.” zayne knew it was best to play along. “we have special glue for blood vessels.”

your daughter gasped. “that’s so gross.”

“no, it’s awesome,” your son countered.

zayne set them down gently before walking toward you, his steps a little heavy from the long shift. he leaned down, kissed your cheek, and murmured, “thanks for covering the debrief.”

you smiled up at him. “they had questions.”

he sat beside you with a quiet groan, his leg pressing against yours. the kids climbed right back into the space between you, curling close like this was just another part of their daily routine. maybe it was.

“can we be heart doctors, too?” your son asked, tucking himself into zayne’s side.

“if you want to,” zayne replied, brushing a hand through his son’s hair. “but i think you’d be an amazing engineer.”

“what about me?” your daughter demanded equal attention.

he leaned in and tapped her nose. “you? i think you’d be a writer. or a lawyer. or maybe an astronaut.”

“what if i want to be a bunny farmer?”

zayne thought for a moment. “then i’ll build you a bunny hospital.”

you laughed, covering your mouth as the kids began to plan their future bunny farm, arguing over weather conditions and carrot rations. zayne didn’t say anything more. he just leaned back slightly, one hand resting on your knee, the other curled protectively behind your daughter’s back. he listened to their chatter, his eyes finding humor in their animated conversations. he was probably thinking, ‘they definitely got that from their mom’.

in retrospect, he had fixed countless hearts in his life, stitched vessels, replaced valves, saved lives. but this… this quiet, chaotic, precious moment? this was the one thing he’d gotten perfectly right.

although, you did want to admit that it was difficult to have a decent conversation with your husband while in the presence of your hyperactive kids. thankfully, it didn’t take long until you heard the soft tap of shoes on the hospital floor. the door creaked open, and in walked yvonne, the hospital’s nurse and receptionist, smiling fondly at your little family. 

“hey, kids,” yvonne said brightly, “how about you come with me? i’ve got something special for you.” she paused, then with a wink, added, “dr. greyson’s got some treats in the breakroom.”

the kids’ eyes lit up, and without another word, they scrambled off the couch, practically tripping over their own feet in their hurry to follow yvonne. they were already chattering excitedly as they followed her down the hall.

as soon as the door closed behind them, you relaxed back into the couch and exhaled deeply. zayne, still in his scrubs from his long surgery, scooted closer and pulled you by the waist. he looked tired, but there was a softness in his gaze that was just for his wife.

“well,” you said with a light chuckle, “it’s nice to finally get some privacy.”

zayne’s smile was tender. “don’t get used to it.”

you laughed. “honestly, though, i’m surprised i don’t get jealous of yvonne. she practically has the kids wrapped around her finger. and she takes good care of you here.”

only then did your husband’s smile falter for a second, a brief moment of amusement flashing across his features. “jealous?” he repeated. “you’re jealous of her?”

“i just said i’m not,” you clarified. “but… well, she’s charming. sweet. she always knows exactly what to say.”

“you,” zayne cut you off, “are everything to me. i don’t need anyone else.”

you knew you’d always been his number one, but you always felt reassured when he said the exact words you wanted to hear. it was enough. and it always worked this way through your years of marriage—a little hint of jealousy could easily be fixed by reassuring words.

whatever zayne said, you believed. there was a sense of solemnity in his words that you’d be a fool to doubt him. perhaps, it was why your kids get scared when their dad gives them a little scolding.

“speaking of work,” you said, shifting slightly, “how did the surgery go? i heard it was a long one.”

zayne sighed at the remembrance. “it went well,” he started, “the patient is stable, but her family... they couldn’t pay the full fees. they just didn’t have the money.”

you frowned, your heart aching at the thought. “but you’re not charging them?”

“i waived my professional fees. i asked the husband to reach out to the government for financial assistance. they’re eligible for some kind of medical relief.”

you blinked in surprise, touched by your husband’s gesture. “you did that?”

he shrugged, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “it’s what i would want if i were in their shoes. i was never after the money when i practiced my degree.”

“if it were me,” you thought out loud, “what would you have done? if i needed that kind of help... would you have helped me?”

zayne turned to you fully, his eyes softening with sincerity. “i’d do whatever it took,” he firmly answered. “even if you needed a transplant, i’d give you my heart without hesitation.”

it might sound like a silly thing, but his quiet declaration tugged gently at your heart. there was a kind of love in his eyes you couldn’t quite put into words. and somehow, you were the one lucky enough to receive it. 

he’d fixed countless hearts in the OR, but you knew, in this moment, that the heart he valued most was the one beating inside you.

maybe that’s why now felt like the perfect time to bring up what had been weighing on your mind all day. the very reason you’d driven straight to the hospital after work.

“well, as it turns out,” you brought up, shifting slightly, “i’m not pregnant. i got my period today.”

zayne let out a soft chuckle. “well, two kids are enough for now, don’t you think?”

you pouted, feigning disappointment. “but i want one more.”

he grinned and kissed your forehead. “you can try again next month. i’m sure we’ll make a whole team of little heart doctors.”

[veemeow]

I wrote a fanfic for the first time, be gentle ˚▱˚ !

Eva returns from the N109 Zone and is plagued by dreams of her companions. Unable to discern between dream and reality, she reconsiders her relationship with the four men in her life. Xavier is endgame, but she shares romantic and/or intimate moments with all the ML’s. Will contain suggestive themes/content as chapters progress (noted for each chapter in which it appears).

* Some chapters contain retellings of memory cards available in the game, but they have been simplified to avoid being repetitive for those who have played/watched them.

[mageofmadness]

LADS MEN + ANESTHESIA

(2k) 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ sfw [17+] includes: talk of surgery though non-descript, under the influence of anesthesia, pitiful men, pathetic attempts at ass grabbing, possibly ooc. go easy on me, i've never written zayne or xav. we're trying.

SYLUS unfortunately does not handle anesthesia well.

he doesn't handle hospitals well, preferring to take care of any issues he has himself. he hasn’t stepped foot in a hospital in years but cannot take care of this problem himself, and he's mad about it. pissed. he’s dismissive of everything said unless it’s coming from you and you have to remind him on more than one occasion to be nice and to stop acting so childish. no biting the nurse's heads off, the doctors are just doing their jobs, etc. he’s a nightmare patient who is only amicable when you’re by his side. sylus is all bark and no bite, too big for the damn hospital bed as they roll him into surgery.

despite that, everything is going relatively smoothly. you kiss him before he leaves, glaring at him as he says, “if i die in there, wait for me. promise i’ll be back.”

he comes out of it immediately and starts yelling for his wife. you two are not married, but good to know where things are going.

he's the one that freaks out and security almost escorts you from the building. you try to calm him down but he’s beside himself. sylus is too big to be manhandled back into the bed, seemingly forgetting he’s hooked up to all these wires, and he refuses to speak to anyone but his wife. gritting his teeth, “where is she? what did you do with her?” you (the she in question) are standing right there, but there’s been a shift change and new nurses and they don’t recognize you and he starts yelling the moment you touch him, trying to get him to lay back down:

"i am married do NOT touch me. do not...don't touch. my wife will kill you. she will! don't touch me, where are the doctors? get her out of here, my wife...oh she's going to be so mad. you touched me, she's going to be so mad. I'm going to be in so much trouble."

it takes you leaving the room, standing awkwardly in the hall as people glance at the commotion, and walking back in for sylus to suddenly recognize you. he looks absolutely pitiful, relieved beyond thought at the sight of his wife finally, and you know he’s never, ever going to live this down. 

CALEB is relentless.

even under the, quite frankly, insane amount of anesthesia he had to be given before surgery, he’s still trying to do for you. caleb tries to give you his blanket because he’s cold (you are not, but the gesture is sweet.) he offers you his sad hospital food, insisting you need to eat and must be starving “y–you…love jello, pips” (you love jello as much as the next person.)

he tries to give you his only pillow and asks for water from the nurse for you as well. he gets mad there’s nothing you want to watch on the tv: how dare the hospital not have your favorite show. he ignores the doctors and glares at them as he scoots over to make room for you to lie down next to him, scoffing at the suggestion that something as vital as you being as close to him might not be the best idea right now.

“it’s in your best interest to let her lay down,” caleb says, eyelids heavy. the doctors eyes widen and you wince. “i’m paying for this hospital stay, correct? that’s what i thought, so this bed is mine, therefore it’s hers and if you don’t want her laying in bed with me, maybe invest in some more comfortable couches. not just a chair.”

it’s all very sweet, except through all of this his speech is slurred and he keeps nodding off in the middle of talking. it’s hard to take his harsh words and mean looks seriously. it makes his glaring at the doctors quite ineffective and when caleb’s finally brought the water, he doesn’t remember he asked for it for you, and drinks it all. his attempt at fluffing the pillow for you is nothing more than weakly punching it a few times, and he offers you the blanket by half-heartedly pushing it onto the ground before powering down like he’s been unplugged.

he only calms once you are in bed with him, sending apologetic glances at the nurses and doctors. telling him yes the water was great and yes, you’re very warm and content (he still has the entire blanket and you’re sweating actually. he runs so hot.) and yes the pillow is fine (you’re not even laying on the pillow.)

RAFAYEL is a runner.

he’s insistent, the moment his eyes open, that he’s ready to go home. pack everything up, give him his clothes—he’s not taking no for an answer. the hospital smells weird and he wants his own bed. these are the words of a man determined to be heard as if he’d have the ability to stand, let alone put on his pants. rafayel is halfway to unplugging himself from everything, scanning the room for his things, asking you for what you think are the car keys as if the way he’s slurring his words isn’t a great indicator of his ability to operate a motor vehicle right now and he’s an arguer. he’s pouting. he’s rolling his eyes and throwing his hands in the air, dramatically throwing himself against the pillows.

rafayel insists he’s fine enough to go to the bathroom himself: “if i can piss by myself, i can drive a car.”  his logic is flawed. you also say no when he mumbles from the bathroom, “can you come hold it? my dick while i piss?” which negates his previous logic and you do tell him that to which you get a pout and shoved out of the bathroom. 

rafayel is the type to look you in the eyes and half-consciously mumble something about, “i’m not trying to have domestic dispute in the hospital, are you? take me home.” you gently try to push him back into the bed, reminding him he’s in a hospital gown and his ass is out. you’re amazed at the large words he’s using, not so impressed with the way he’s trying to get out of the bed again. and again. you’re also not impressed with the way he’s swaying in place, telling the nurses with a pout that he’s fine. that you’re there to take care of him now so, “you’re dismissed, your services are no longer needed” and that if you’re not going to take him home, rafayel will just go get the car himself and pull it around. you love how overly confident he is, and it really is ideal that he’s so weak from the drugs that he’s easily overpowered.

it takes three nurses and a doctor and you raising a brow at him, pointing your finger and narrowing your eyes, for him to flop himself back down into the bed. he loses steam quickly after that, waking up later and not remembering a thing but you do remind him that he flashed his bare ass to the entire staff.

XAVIER concerns the doctors with how long it takes him to wake up.

he’s out like a light and wakes up after sleeping like the dead and sees you speaking to the doctor. he’s silent, he’s not yelling. he’s quite sound up there in his head despite the anesthesia but he doesn’t like that doctor or how close he’s standing to you or the doctor’s hand on your shoulder or the way the male nurse comes in to ask you something and while he’s the most level headed of them all, he still can’t help but say something. 

you and the staff seem really chummy, and who knows how long he’s been out. he finally clears his throat, both you and the doctor looking over. 

“leave.”

xavier glances between you and the doctor. you’re tired, you’ve been there since morning, and you give the doctor a clipped smile, thanking him and nodding, letting him know it’s fine, and you’ve got it from here. xavier’s eyes don’t leave the doctor until he’s out the door and for the next few hours, you are confined to the small sliver of hospital bed with him as he silently fumes that the doctor was trying to make a move on you while he was indisposed.

“you smiled at him,” he insists. “i don’t trust him. i’ll report him for medical malpractice.”

you take none of this personally, quickly reminding him being nice as a doctor is a good thing. you almost find humor in it, if xavier’s calm demeanor wasn’t somewhat unnerving after the second and third hour. you ask him if he’s in pain, he says no. you ask him if he wants to rest, he says no. you ask him if he needs anything, he says no. you realize too late that he’s doing everything to avoid the doctor coming back into the room. when he finally does, xavier speaks for himself. slowly, a bit stilted, but he’s impressive with his lucidity. tightening his arms around you and asking for the door to be shut this time when you two are left alone. 

“i’ll sleep when we’re back home.”

safe to say he manages to pull it together well enough to be discharged as soon as possible, and once you’re home, he drops the act, turns into a bit of a baby, and passes out to sleep again.

ZAYNE is 100% handsy.

he’s a doctor, he knows what he’s getting into and what’s going on when he wakes up. he wasn’t worried before, he’s not worried now and you’re actually the one that’s been stressed this entire time. zayne has the wherewithal to understand he’s stuck for a bit in this room, and while his can you hand me that water? is genuine, he narrows his eyes as you walk past him and reaches a limp hand out to grab your ass. you turn around, startled, and he shrugs. he has the drugs as an excuse, not that zayne doesn’t appreciate your ass on the regular, he just has an excuse now to grope you in the hospital bed which, let’s be real, he’s kind of into. not the whole him-in-the-bed situation, or you in the bed if the roles were reversed but, well. the thought of you as a hot nurse does cross his mind. he might not remember this later, but his defenses are down, and he won’t blame himself.

“lay in the bed with me,” zayne mumbles, eyes closed. “c’mon.”

you remind him that’s not the best idea, he’s a doctor, and he should know this but he frowns and opens an eye. it’s endearing, this side of him, and you know what’s coming before you even lay down. zayne’s hand falls from the bed, grabbing your ass again as you slowly try to crawl into the bed with him. the doctors come in, and zayne is dismissive, spouting off responses to their questions with his eyes closed as if this is all a walk in the park as he feels you up still under the blanket. a handful off your ass is squeezed every time he has to answer another annoying question.

you whisper, reminding him that he’s not being the best patient right now, and zayne scoffs, seemingly letting the anesthesia work its magic on his limbs and lack of filter:

“i’m lying in bed resting, i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“stress is not good for recovery.” another squeeze. “don’t stress me out.”

you relay all of this to him after he’s fully conscious, even slipping in his mumbles talk of you as a hot nurse he’d let slip while asleep, and he blinks. there’s a slight blush, but he does not deny or condemn his own actions. like he said, he won’t blame himself.

@ mageofmadness 2025. ִֶָ. 232.161.195 161.178.232

[zoieru]

Weirdly specific headcanons about the lads boys and your lip balm / chapstick ~

Xavier ~

'what's that smell? it...doesn't smell like shampoo usually does.'

he's cuddling on the sofa with you and lifts his head, hair a bit fluffed from where he was tucked into your neck and chest, and his light eyebrows draw in at the centre trying to work out where it comes from.

'smell? Mm...its probably my lipbalm, Xavier, here,'

he takes it when you grab it and give it to him, rolling it over in his fingers to read any writing around the edge, head resting back against you again. he takes off the lid and sniffs it, eyes widening slightly before smiling a touch.

'its nice. does it taste good?'

he sort of asks without thinking of the double entendre at first, but a second later he realises and his eyes hold a flicker of mischief as he brings his face closer, eyes flitting to your lips.

'i dont know, you tell me?'

then he's all up in your business, eyes closing as he brings his lips to yours almost exploratory as when you try a new snack.

'mmh, yes. I like it.'

'good'

you plant a soft little kiss on the end of his nose to a cute blink and blushed chuckle from him.

over the next few hours he keeps coming back to kiss you more pointedly, more often, to a raised eyebrow from you. he likes the feeling and smell of it on his lips, it makes them soft and makes him think of you.

'Xavier you can take it if you want, i have a spar-'

'I don't want one.'

'but...?'

He only wants the thin soft coating of it on his lips when it means he's kissed you recently.

Rafayel ~

once this man catches drift of your scented lip balms he is all over that shit. he'll insist on going to choose ones, buying too many since you cant try them at the store, and then pouts when you tell him you cant face trying on and wiping off like ten different lip balms just so he can smell and kiss you over and over to see which one is best.

youre sat on the bed, the fading sunlight shining through the domed windows of your shared bedroom and onto this ridiculous pile of little cylindrical tubes on the duvet.

'but...'

'the scents will mix, and anyway lip balm is supposed to be nourishing, not causing my lips to be sore because ive applied and scraped off loads of different ones'

'well how am i supposed to know which one is the best then?'

'you'll have to wait and see i guess, i can put a different one on at few hour intervals, itll be like a fun surprise, you can guess which one i have on!'

'thats tooo longggg'

later you catch him applying one on himself in the bathroom, he just couldnt wait okay!! when you do put one on, he materialises at your side, hands running over your skin and finding their way to your jaw as if he could sense it from the other room, and he tilts his head with a little cute smirk.

'next taste test? this one's going to be good, i can feel it.'

Zayne ~

'here,'

he hands you one that he picked off the shelf next to you as you perused the options.

'what, you like this one?'

'i'm not familiar with it, but its important to use ones with more natural ingredients, especially when applying to sensitive areas like your face and mouth.'

'mmh, makes sense.'

you buy a few different types at his behest, and then he watches you try them and smell them as he puts his stuff away around the house.

'do you like them?'

'this one smells really good, actually.'

'mh?'

he's at your side, finding himself strangely excited to have another scent to not only feel and smell when he kisses you, but also to associate with you like he does with your hair stuff or your perfume.

'it does, you're right.'

he takes your chin in his other hands fingers, his usually gentle but firm touch, and then runs his thumb featherlight across the edge of your bottom lip, dark eyelashes lowering slightly as his eyes seem to both soften and darken at the same time.

'does it taste just as good?'

Sylus ~

'get all of them'

'Sylus, there are like fifty options here, why would I need fifty lip balms?'

he just shrugs, that annoyingly handsome smirk on his face as he feigns nonchalance.

'just trying to be supportive, kitten. no need to scratch now.'

'being supportive would be you helping me pick one'

'mmh, would it now?'

he was waiting to be asked, he's irritating like that. you rolled your eyes subtly and couldnt help the smile off his face as he on cue started analysing the options on the shelf with a discerning critical eye. after a silence, you pause, and glance at him sidelong.

'so?'

he points to a few in succession, speaking in a slow thoughtful sort of drawl as he ponders, playful yet serious simultaneously. It's an important decision, of course.

'too sweet, too floral, too colourful, too...is that glitter? i thought this was supposed to be health related, not glamourous. though i suppose a mix of both might be alluring. mmh...this one'

he holds it out to you, made up his mind. not stating his reason outright obviously. he looks down at you and eyes flick between your face and his choice, very subtly figuring out your reaction to his choice. as you leave the shop after buying, and go to put on your helmet to get on his bike, his hand comes to rest on top of it, stopping its path, and he raises an eyebrow, cocking his head. You blink.

'hm?'

'well, come now, are you going to let me try the latest flavour of the lips i so often indulge in, or would you be cruel and have me wait?'

Caleb ~

so...lets say one day you're buying something completely unrelated, but you double take as your eyes happen to flit over some apple scented lip balm on the store shelf. You pause, nibble on your lip with a faint curl to the corners, and grab it and apply it on the way home. It's good...that apple scent that isnt too artificial or plasticky but also sweet and sharp enough to be noticeable and tasty.

Its hard to keep it in somehow when he gets home? its like a secret, which feels stupid, but he looks at you and raises a suspicious eyebrow.

'why you smilin', pips? what have you done?'

he asks, starting to laugh a bit at your face as you tried to keep it normal. it'll be like after a while where he wrestles you off the stove or something playfully that he'll catch a whiff. i mean he's obviously noticed your lips seem a touch shinier, but didn't think a whole lot of it except 'nice'.

'did you buy new perfume?'

'no...?'

'but...its appley over here, you got one in your ear or somethin'?'

he makes a point of sniffing around you like a dog as your giggling form is pressed back against the counter. then he pauses as his nose nears yours and a cheeky smile stretches across his face. his hand lifts and he runs the back of his fingers ever so softly over your bottom lip, his eyes following the movement.

'ah, bullseye. so this is what you were giggling about earlier, you're so silly pipsqueak,'

'what? why?!'

'who gets all giggly about lip balm hm?'

he tilts his head, still in teasy puppy mode, though his eyes have softened and darkened as his face has come closer. as you pout he pokes your lips again with a smirk.

'mmh, an apple flavoured pout huh?'

he leans in achingly slowly to kiss you.

Weirdly specific headcanons about the lads boys and your scrunchie

[odoraful]

𝑻𝑶𝑼𝑪𝑯𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑽𝑬𝑫 ᯓ 𝒁𝑨𝒀𝑵𝑬

⟡ content: gn!reader ; established relationship (i wanna say early relationship, maybe the first time he travels away from you) ; kissing ; zayne showering you with affection as soon as he possibly can ; tooth-rooting fluff ; mildly suggestive, but nothing too crazy ; 0.9k wc ⟡ a/n : trying to practice writing physical affection and i have some ideas for the other boys so i might write more touchstarved scenes hehe i hope you enjoy reading, mwah !

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Travelling for the week to attend a conference meant that Zayne had a fairly packed schedule. However, the days always passed excruciatingly slow when he was apart from you. He did make the effort to keep in contact. Nights were reserved for calls with you, even if it was only for an hour or so before tiredness overcame him. However, waking up without you curled beside him meant he could never really shake off the fatigue. When the day finally came for his return to Linkon, Zayne’s heart stirred as he passed the familiar streets of the city, all leading back to you.

To properly welcome your boyfriend back, you arrived at his house ready with sweets and affection. You were neatly arranging a plate of macarons from one of Zayne’s favourite patisserie when the doorbell chimed. You hurried over to the front door, your slippers tapping against the polished floors. A holographic intercom appeared showing who was outside.

Zayne wore his classic black dress shirt and pants, the shirt having its top button undone to reveal his collarbone. The small rolling suitcase beside him held a familiar luggage tag that you decorated for him.

“Observing me through the intercom?”

Zayne voice was crackly through the microphone. His head was cocked in light amusement, staring directly into the camera. He knew your MO far too well. You tapped on the button to allow your voice to be heard.

“You always need to check whether the person at the door is who you’re expecting,” you answered, watching his holographic image.

He blinked away with a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Then, I hope I’m the right person.”

You closed the intercom and unlocked the door, meeting him face to face. To Zayne, seeing you at last was like feeling the sun warm his skin up in the morning. You presence urged him awake, and he felt his liveliness return once more. You were grinning, joy sparkling in your eyes as you spoke,

“Mhm, you’re the right one for me.”

Without speaking, Zayne opened his arms out, almost guided by some kind of gravitational pull towards you. His arms circled your waist as he rested his head against yours, breathing in the faint, perfumed scent of shampoo. You cradled against his chest and his heart stuttered. It felt so natural, like you were always meant to be in his embrace. A sigh fell from his lips, complete relief at being able to hold you again.

After a few content moments, he pulled away, straightening himself. He realized he hadn’t showered yet and needed to do so before anything further happened.

You closed the door as Zayne walked inside. He immediately noticed the plate of macarons on the table, the washed and fluffed pillows on his sofa, the bouquet of fresh flowers sitting in a glass vase. Traces of your kindness that he had missed dearly.

“I’ll wash up first.” Zayne said, before entering his bedroom. “Don’t worry about my luggage, I can sort it myself.” He collected a set of loungewear from his wardrobe and a towel before disappearing into the bathroom.

You sat on the sofa to wait for him, scrolling through Moments posts on your phone. Your gaze kept wandering towards the plate of macarons in front of you. They looked too enticing for you not to try. Surely Zayne wouldn’t mind if you had a little taste first.

As if on cue, he appeared, towel in hand as he dried off his hair. He caught you with a sheepish expression on your face and a half-eaten macaron in your hand. You quickly placed it back on the plate as he loomed over you. If there was anyone serious about sweets, it would be him.

“I’m sorry I tried it without you, they were just—”

Zayne tossed the towel to the side and leaned in, stealing your apology from being spoken.

A familiar warmth blossomed between you as his lips captured yours. A week was far too long and he had spent much of his downtime thinking of this exact moment. His gentle hands cupped your face as he moved in closer still, raising his knee up to rest by your thigh.

“Zayne!” you voice was a squeaked muffle as your head met the back of the sofa, the soft backing cushioning the impact.

“Mhm,” he answered in a low tone, enjoying the way you said his name.

His tongue pressed between your lips—coaxing you to satiate his hunger. You parted your mouth, giving him permission to indulge. Zayne wasn’t someone you’d describe as spontaneous, yet times like these always caught you off guard. Though, it definitely wasn’t unwelcome. Admittedly, you had been craving this in his absence also.

He pulled away, admiring the flush on your cheeks as if you had been in the shower instead of him.

“Strawberry matcha,” he said, subtly licking his lips. He could taste remnants of a mild earthiness combined with fragrant berry. “Is my guess correct?”

You let out a breath of disbelief, realizing his move had another motive as well.

“It is, but you know you can pick up the macarons yourself to eat,” you replied with a pout, covering you mouth with the back of your hand.

“I’d prefer to have a different dessert first.” Zayne grasped your wrist and interlocked his fingers with yours. Moving your hand away, he saw your gaze flicking from his eyes and lips. “If that’s alright with you.”

You quickly nodded. He kissed you once more, smiling against your lips as you melted into his touch. Sorting out the luggage and eating the macarons could wait until a little later.

[loveanddeepsecrets]

Aftercare after surgery 🦷

How the LADS men would care for you right after you get your wisdom teeth removed.

OG credit goes to @jinwoosbabyboo. Ty anon for making me aware of this!

tags: sfw, fluff, gn! reader, Sylus, Rafayel, Caleb, Zayne, & Xavier x reader

word count: ≈1,045

Caleb

He'd be the most entertaining knowing how you bore easily. From card games, to video games, to tv marathons, the first few days of recovery fly by.

Insisted you get the procedure done in Skyhaven so you can recover at his place, it’s a lot roomier anyway

Is in stitches laughing on the ride home as you both joke around while you’re still high from the anesthesia

Bought a special recliner for you to sleep on the first night post op

Very attentive caretaker; routinely fluffing your pillows, changing your gauze, and refilling your glass of water 

Likes the challenge of cooking a “no solid foods” meal

Is absolutely teasing you over how swollen your cheeks are

Still makes a point to tell you how beautiful you are

Boy, can this man YAP 

He knows he can be quite chatty, but can’t resist annoying you a little when you can’t talk back. “…There was that one time I lost a bet with Gideon, but that’s a story for another day. I’ve been talkin’ your ear off for 10 minutes.” “mmph..” “What’s that? You wanna hear more about the bet?  Okayyy pipsqueek…”

Massages your temples when the pain meds wear off before you can take them again 

Ends up falling asleep next to you in the giant recliner during a Food Network marathon 

Rafayel

Raf’s probably the most smothering of the five since he admits he’s not the best at taking care of others and would be mortified if he had any part of your recovery not going well. He’s a lavish man after all, your comfort is important to him.

You resting anywhere other than his California king bed is out of the question!

Is incredibly gentle and soothing when changing out your gauze; lots of words of encouragement

Constantly checking in to make sure you’re comfortable 

Tries really hard not to laugh when he uses bags of frozen vegetables as cold compress on your cheeks. Says you look like a cute puffer fish 

Keeps forgetting you shouldn’t talk for the first 24 hours but then gets mad when you try answering him when he asks you something 

Is really excited for the next couple of days when you can eat more solid foods. He’s been meaning to make you a special fish soup he discovered on one of his exhibitions abroad 

Drew a tiny sketch of you as a sleeping puffer fish during your nap

Would literally fan you if you felt too hot 

Loses kitty cards on purpose 

Since he has you bedridden, he bought several magazines to take silly quizzes bc “That’s what they do in the movies, yeah?”

Zayne

Easily the most equipped to take care of you in this situation let’s be fr. He’s firm, yet gentle and your downtime is quick and painless.

Has you on a tight schedule: nap, rinse, gauze, meds, nap, rinse, eat, gauze, repeat

You don’t even bother trying to speak. He already had a white board and marker placed on your nightstand when you got home from surgery

Has you pick whatever drama you want to watch when you finally slept off the anesthesia 

Is even more lenient with the amount of sweets you can have since smoothies are the only “healthy” meal you can eat right after surgery 

Is really all cuddles outside of the strict routine of dressing your wounds/taking meds

Shadow puppet show (again 🥲)

Lots and lots of kisses! Cheeks, forehead, eyelids, nose; he just wants you to get better

Places his hands on your cheeks and uses his evol as a cold compress just this once

Secretly counting down the days til he can properly kiss you again 

Is still a workaholic and reviewing reports on his laptop, but takes your temporary silence as an opportunity to listen to some of your favourite music together. In a way, it’s like you’re still talking to him

Xavier

He's no medical professional by any means, but he's not as clueless as he lets on. When it comes to your safety and well being, he takes looking after you pretty seriously. Under his care, you get the most sleep you've gotten in your life.

Sets up the pull out couch so you won’t have to walk around as much

Still brought you flowers and a “Get well soon” card, despite the fact that he’s the one taking care of you 

Thinks you look especially cute with swollen cheeks and surrounded your sleeping form with plushies mid nap 

Is especially proud of himself for making you breakfast and dinner— it’s really hard to mess up instant oatmeal and mashed potatoes 

It takes everything within him not to poke your cheeks and say “chubby bunny”

Chooses to play collaborative 2-player games bc he knows you hate it when he lets you win

Gets in bed to join in on your (med induced) naps

Has you snuggle his waist as you two look through comic books

Follows along with your mushy diet because he’d feel so bad eating solid foods in front of you

Thought refrigerating a face mask would be a relaxing alternative to cold compress packs (and of course he tried one too)

Sylus

Full on princess treatment. Quite literally wouldn’t let you lift a finger. It’s as if you had hip replacement surgery.

Refuses to let you walk, even after the anesthesia wears off. He carries you to any and every room

He knows it’s a minor surgery, but it didn’t stop him from buying the fluffiest pillows, comfiest weighted blankets, plushiest robe, and smoothest silk eye mask 

Brushes/ plays with your hair while you sleep 

Despite your temporary dietary restrictions, you still eat like a Michelin inspector thanks to his private chef

Spoon feeds you 

Is the only LI aside from Caleb who can understand your muffled speech 

Programmed Mephisto to set reminders to take your meds and switch out your gauze

Tucks you in *every time* you decide to lay back in bed

Turned one of his rooms into a spa. Dark, yet calming from the soft lighting of candles, crystal singing bowls from a white noise machine, and aromatherapy 

Relishes in you earnestly needing his help

Bought out a full service salon for the next day to give you every service they offer

fic dividers by: saradika-graphics, adornedwithlight, strangergraphics, & natimiles-edits

Thanks for reading all the way through :) Any interaction is greatly appreciated!

[itzpookiepooh]

Insomnia

You tossed and turned with your eyes closed, threw the blanket off, put it on, stuck one leg out yet you were still awake. You fluffed the pillows and still nothing. You were on the verge of tears because everything was overwhelming. You shot up throwing the blanket off to get some fresh air. You left Sylus to sleep soundly as you left the room.

You roamed the base mindlessly until you ended up outside. You took a few deep breaths before you spazzed out. You could always buy new pillows and maybe that would help. Maybe a walk would also help, a warm glass of milk? Rain sounds even. You just wanted to sleep you closed your eyes around 3 and woke up at 4, your body felt…frustrated.

A cloud of red and black essence appears in front of you. Sylus tilts his head at you clearly tired and concerned. You look up at him with exhaustion, you feel like you could rip your hair out. He pulls you into him and rubs your back slowly. He knew how hard it was to go to sleep most days especially if you both were apart.

“Come on, I’ll help you sleep.” He whispers to you as you both make your way back inside. He put in a record, no singing just low music. In bed you were still wide awake as he pulled you into him.

His fingers lightly traced patterns into your spine. At first it gave you goosebumps but after a while you felt your eyelids get heavy. Listening to the music mixed with Sylus’ heartbeat did the trick. He kissed you goodnight before falling asleep himself.

You were practically a fish out of water the way you were tossing and turning. You threw the blankets off angrily before storming out of the room still quiet enough not to wake Rafayel. You stood in the shower letting the hot water try and lull you to sleep, nothing. You tried making yourself tired with boring audiobooks, nothing. A list of trial and error, all for you still to be wide awake at 4am. You barely got a wink of sleep.

You took chance to try sitting on the beach, staring off into the sea. You wondered if you got in would it help you. Being swayed by the oceans current like a baby in a cradle. Too bad you were too scared of being in the ocean at night. The thought was still on the table though—at the very end.

You hear footsteps coming towards you. A disheveled Rafayel stood before you. His hair was a mess and he looked panicked and tired at the same time. He thought something happened to you until he had to remind himself of your insomnia. You looked at him sadly, you could feel your eye bags getting worse.

“You could’ve woke me up.” He informs you, sitting next to you. You shrug your shoulders putting your chin on your knee.

“You were sleeping so soundly.” You tell him with a small smile. He puts his head on your shoulder watching the ocean with you.

“You’re important to me and knowing you’re struggling makes me feel like I’m struggling.” He explains to you making you put your head on his.

Rafayel leads you to a hot bath mixed with lavender and melatonin oil. You and him soak in the bath in silence basking in each others presence. Sleep slowly poked at you, wanting to consume you. Rafayel leads you back to bed, morphing himself into you. Before you know it you both are fast asleep as the ocean waves sway in the background.

Zayne slept at a fairly reasonable hour since he was a doctor. Most times your insomnia kept you awake until he went to work and whatever amount of sleep you may have gotten was the sleep you’d deal with for the day. It was exhausting and repetitive, you couldn’t end the cycle. Tonight was no different as you wandered around the house looking for sleep aid.

You use to try sleep medication that was over the counter, eventually you’d have to wait a few days in between before taking them again. Your body would get use to it too quickly. You felt like you had tried everything even listening to any sounds on YouTube to aid sleep. You were desperate to find something, anything to calm your mind.

You were on the couch staring at the ceiling when you could hear Zayne’s padded footsteps. He rubbed his eyes when he finally found you. He knew you struggled to sleep and tried his best to help you. He knew for sure that you would need to have a sleep study done in order to find the issue. That wasn’t happening now though so he needed a solution.

“Come with me. I have something that will help.” His soft voice luring you into the kitchen where he makes you a cup of sleepy time tea. It relaxes your body of course but you needed a bigger push.

Zayne brought you back into the bedroom before he began prepping the room. He sprayed something lavender scented onto the pillows and blankets. He fluffed the pillows and motioned you over. You both got comfortable in each other’s arms, ready for bed. Zayne tells you a sleep inducing story making your eyes grow heavier. When you’re breathing evens out he smiles giving you a good night kiss. He follows right after you and goes to sleep.

Xavier was the sleepiest person you’ve ever met. You were jealous that he could sleep absolutely anywhere. You were staring blankly at the tv, flipping through channels waiting to pass out when you heard him enter the living room. His eyes were droopy and filled with exhaustion. You waved at him and he returns the gesture before standing in front of you.

Xavier may be able to sleep anywhere but not without you. You knew that but you didn’t want to wake him after the day he had. You were yawning but you weren’t tired and you refused to wake him up to help you. You felt it was rude to do so. Xavier on the other hand has told you many times to do so because he doesn’t want you to suffer.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks holding his hand out to yours which you gladly take.

“Nah. You?” He chuckled at the fact you were worried about him at all.

“Not without you.” He tells you. He gets you to sit with him under the stars. He asks you to count them and you slowly begin to get sleepier.

He tells you stories of the planets and stars before you fall asleep on his shoulder. The stories were too good to not listen to and you would ask him about them tomorrow. He chuckles rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. He carries you back to bed and crawls in beside you. He holds you tight as sleep takes over his body and he falls back to sleep.

Not sleeping was driving you up a wall! You tried fake scenarios, counting sheep, focusing on the silence around you but nothing worked! You almost wanted to chop Caleb in his throat for sleeping so well. It wasn’t his fault though, you just couldn’t sleep and felt like you could run a marathon. You left the room and Caleb rose like a bloodhound.

He immediately went to search for you in his groggy state. He found you about to go for a walk to which he stopped you. He felt it was too dangerous to be out there on your own. He knew if you were tired enough you’d sleep anywhere so he came up with a better solution. He sang you a lullaby, specifically the one he made up when you would be scared of the dark when you guys were kids. You felt your eyes get heavy as he rocks you back and forth on the bed.

You blink slowly at him as he smiles down at you. By the time the lullaby is over you’re fast asleep. He rocks you for a few more minutes before he gets you both comfortable to sleep. He smiles at you once more before kissing your nose.

“Mission accomplished.” He whispered before going back to sleep.

I am jealous of those of you that can just go to sleep I wish to not be at war with the sandman.

[tbaluver]

When You're Sick- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

genre: fluff fluff

a/n: only wrote this because i was sick for a couple of days heh (':

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

You two were on a mission together but you noticed as the day goes by your movement has become weaker and slower. Xavier also notices that and asks if you were okay but you reassured him you were okay and brushed it off. As you both finished the mission, your headache was increasingly getting worse and your vision felt blurry. The last thing you saw was Xavier running up to you before your eyes fluttered shut.

He would carry you home and is extremely worried about your health. He just doesn't want to lose you even if it could be the smallest thing.

You would wake up to this man checking your temperature and constantly making sure you're comfortable. He would be fluffing your pillows and making sure you have plenty of blankets.

He would have accidentally bought too much medicine because he didn't know what sickness you had. His search history would be filled with how to make you feel better or what to get you.

If you were tired of being in your bed, he would carry you to the couch so you both could watch shows or movies together. He would nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck and you would freak out because you don't want to get him sick. He would reassure you and say he'll be okay.

Would have food delivered to your home so he doesn't leave your side. He would make sure the food is healthy and nutritious so you can feel better soon. He would blow the food if it was too hot and feed it to you.

Zayne:

You would cancel on him the day before your date because you felt sick and then you would find him a couple hours later outside your door with a plastic bag of medicine and goodies for you.

You knew he had work the whole night but he explained that he called off sick to take care of you. He would lecture you on being careless about your health and explain what's best to do on how to get better. He's naturally concerned when you're sick and although you can't tell from his expression, you can tell from what he does through his actions.

He would prepare you yummy and healthy meals that provide you nutrients and vitamins for a swift recovery. Would give you little praises after each bite you take and once you're finished with your food.

He would make sure that you take your daily medications and medicines. He would even give you a small treat after you take your medicine to get rid of the nasty aftertaste. He would insist on hand feeding you meals and would lecture you on how it would save your energy on recovering.

When you're sleepy, he'll place a cold washcloth on your forehead and brush any stray hairs in the way. He'll gently rub your cheek, to reassure you that he's still there while you're still asleep. Before he would change the washcloth, he would give you a kiss on the forehead before applying a new one. Since he's busy, he'll leave the medicine on the bedside table when he has to leave early in the morning. Would leave little sticky notes or put a reminder on your phone to take your medicine when he has to go back to work.

Rafayel:

He was away for a collaboration event for a couple days but you two would call and text each other to make up the missing time in person. Until you texted him that you felt sick and didn't respond for a couple hours to a day. This man was worried sick about you and he would be pacing around in his room trying to call you but it would end up right into voicemail. So when you wake up with one of the worst headaches ever, you open your phone to find many notifications all from Rafayel.

When he returns home early from the event, he'll be noticeably pouty and explain that he came back home early because he was genuinely worried something might have happened to you. You'll apologize and promise you'll make it up to him.

He would usher you back to bed and is quick to get you a drink and tuck you back in if you were cold. If you needed anything he would get it right away. He would stay close to you so he can hear you ask for anything.

Would not let you do anything other than rest. Will literally feed you with his own two hands to help you get better immediately but will playfully complain that his hand would hurt . He would get worried when you would cringe from the taste of the medicine. Lowkey worried that maybe someone is trying to assassinate you so he tries a teeny bit of your medicine and he would also cringe from it. Would try to find a better tasting medicine for you and when he doesn't, he makes sure you take a sweet treat after. He'll lowkey joke about the face you make after you take the medicine.

He would have you rest on his chest as he tells you about his trip to the event. He would get worried when you didn't respond but he looks down to see your cheek pressed against his chest and your soft snores matches the steady beat of his heart makes him relax and in awe.

Would get sick because he's all over you. Just because your sick just gives him more of a reason to be closer to you! He would get really pouty and offended if you would refuse to kiss him or give him any physical touch because you were worried he would get sick. Still would sneak kisses on your forehead or the top of your head.

Sylus:

It was the weekend and you didn't have any work. You woke up with a headache but you paid no mind to it. You tried to do your daily chores but as the minutes go by, you start to feel worse. You laid back down on your bed and pull up your phone to text Sylus but your eyes fluttered shut.

You wake up from loud noises in your home and you slowly peek out of you room with the stinging pain in your head, only to find where the noises were coming from only to find Sylus in your kitchen.

"Ah your awake. I was worried you were going to sleep the whole day." He says, putting some medicine in your cabinet. You would ask him why he came in and he would show you the keyboard smash texts you sent him before you knocked out on your bed. He also would mention that Mephisto would notice your slow movements and alerted Sylus right away. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." He apologizes that he had business to take care of but he brought medicine and other things that he think would help you feel better.

Seeing you in a weak state, he would get to work. He is observant and attentive to your body language. If you show any signs of discomfort he would be quick to soothe you and rub comforting shapes on your back whenever you feel nauseous.

He would carry you back to bed, preparing you fresh blankets, feeding you medicine and food. Would do anything and everything to ensure that you're feeling okay. He ignores your protest that he should also take a break but he continues to stay by your side when you wake up and when you fall asleep.

He would grab everything and anything you need so you don't have to lift a finger at all even if you say you can do it yourself. He just wants to make the whole process easy as possible for you.

[sugar-petals]

Hi caro 🌹Why does hyunjin look so good in a buzz cut even though he's a soft dramatic ? Wth 😂

BUZZCUTS & KIBBE BODY TYPES

quick answer: because hyunjin is too hot to look terrible, ever

long answer: i'm personally not a fan of it, the long hair is his signature. from a technical standpoint, it's not dyed as i wish it was, too. not all buzzcuts are created equal: i would bring it closer to the head, and color it darker. zayn style. his barber was always the shit.

one could say zayn's face is carrying it, but it's fair to put hyunjin in that level of beauty as well, i think. although zayn is a classic type of sorts, though, maybe SC. i changed my mind about him being a TR. his body type is too rectangular, chiseled. niall is more yin, for instance. and many classic men have a reputation for being visually perfect and at a medium 5'9-ish height, which zayn is. male Rs are smaller and way softer. jimin is the #1 example, still.

that being said, classics do buzzcuts semi-better since that hairstyle is ultra-symmetrical. although it wasn't well-executed, it looks cute on taehyung (who's certainly in the classic family, too).

still, kibbe only recs going that short to gamines anyway (e.g. natalie & kristen below) as they are short in statue — the kibbe principle is "putting same things to same things" to create beauty — and he is right. the buzzcut belongs to G much like tousled hair belongs to Ns, sleek hair to Ds, the middle part to C, and curls to R.

there's a reason why XG's rapper cocona blew up when she chopped her hair off, just like cheetah did for unpretty rapstar back then. unsurprisingly, cocona is a gamine.

now for hyunjin, the close-cut buzz is sort of suitable for him since dramatic types are typically advised by kibbe to show off their bone structure, and being bald (or close to) accomplishes that.

him wearing outfits suitable for his SD type also contribute to it looking good (especially your 3rd image has a nice shimmery, but sturdy SD fabric jacket). versace suits SD, and a head to toe look can compensate for a haircut outside your ID.

it does show off his beautiful face! and the fluffed up texture is quite yin. but hyunjin's dark waves (bring them back 😭) have been universally flattering and i haven't seen anyone who hates it whereas the new cut has people calling him a human kiwi 😅

as a rule of thumb, sharp yang men do well with either very long or very very short hair, shorter than gamine even, since D and SD are about extremes. so, i think going that cropped has its merits. jin being SD already showed us how good it can look on that type. it does come down to having a gorgeous face. i still can't get over how huge of a transformation it is for hyunjin, it's crazy.

[niallerspayno]

Troublemaker - Chapter Two

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

…

Everyone is exhausted as Paul leads the way to the suite, the long day finally catching up with all of you. Your only goal? Starfishing in a massive hotel bed and not moving until morning.

That is, until Paul pauses in the entryway and tosses one hand toward the suite. “Only three bedrooms in this one—you lot can figure it out.”

And just like that, he’s gone, letting the door swing shut behind him with the finality of a man who knows exactly what kind of storm he’s leaving behind.

“Dibs on Harry,” Louis calls instantly, flinging his backpack onto one of the couches like it’s a flag.

“Dibs on Zayn,” Niall says at the same time, already heading toward one of the doors with a grin.

You blink. “Wait, what?”

“Already claimed,” Louis says, grabbing Harry by the wrist and towing him toward a room like it’s tradition.

“Hang on—since when do we do dibs?” you protest, glancing around.

Zayn just shrugs, unbothered, as Niall trails after him like a happy little duckling.

And that’s when it hits you.

You look at the one bedroom door that hasn’t been touched. The one without a bag in front of it. The one that leads to the last room.

Liam is still standing across the suite, watching the chaos with his arms crossed and a slight frown—like he’s almost surprised by the sudden urgency in everyone’s decision-making.

Almost.

“Don’t say it,” you grumble, towel still slung over your shoulders.

He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything.”

“They planned this.”

“Obviously.”

You sigh and walk over to the last bedroom, giving the closed door a look like it personally offended you. “I swear, if Louis filmed this for Instagram—”

“I’m checking the ceiling for hidden cameras,” Liam says, already turning the handle.

The room is nice. One big bed. Crisp white sheets. A soft lamp glowing in the corner. Peaceful. Serene.

You eye it like it’s a trap.

“Well,” Liam says, dropping his bag by the dresser. “I can sleep on the floor.”

You glance at him. At the bed. Then back at him. “Liam. We’re both adults. It’s a bed.”

He raises both hands, half-surrendering. “Alright, alright. Just offering.”

You shake your head with a sigh, stepping further into the room and toeing off your shoes. “Honestly, if anyone’s getting the floor, it’s me. You’re the delicate one. What if Daddy Directioner throws his back out?”

Liam groans, flopping onto the bed face-first like he’s already over you. “I’m going to smother you with a pillow.”

“I’d haunt you,” you chirp, tossing your towel over the back of a chair. “Every night. Whisper ‘Daddy’ in your ear until you cry.”

He lets out a muffled yell into the sheets, voice half strangled with laughter. “I hate you so much.”

But when he turns his head to look at you, there’s a crooked smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. The kind that only shows up when he’s trying not to grin. It does dangerous things to your heart.

You pause. Just for a second.

Then: “Dibs on the left side.”

“Figures,” he mutters, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “You always take the side closest to the door. What, in case of a fire you can escape without saying goodbye?”

“In case of a fire, I’ll drag you out over my shoulder,” you say, crawling onto the bed and fluffing a pillow like it’s done something to deserve your judgment.

Liam flicks off the lamp and the room falls into a warm, low glow—just the city lights beyond the curtains and the soft hum of night outside. You shift under the covers, adjusting, arms brushing briefly as you both settle.

It’s quiet.

Comfortable.

For about thirty seconds.

“You’re breathing loud,” you murmur into the dark.

“I am breathing,” Liam says, flat.

“Suspicious.”

He huffs a laugh. “Go to sleep.”

But neither of you moves. The silence stretches again, softer now. Your legs shift under the covers. You can feel him beside you—warm, steady, very much present.

Eventually, you turn your head on the pillow to face him. Just in time to find he’s already watching you.

The look in his eyes is unreadable. Not teasing. Not flirty. Just… thoughtful.

“Why are you like this?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

The question sinks deep.

You blink, caught off guard. “Like what?”

He tilts his head slightly. “You push people. You make a joke out of everything. You run from stuff even when you don’t need to.” He swallows. “You drive me mad. And you know exactly when you’re doing it.”

You stare at him for a moment, the weight of his words sitting heavy on your chest.

“…I guess,” you murmur, eyes drifting toward the ceiling, “I’d rather laugh first than wait to see if anyone else will. I don’t like giving people the chance to hurt me first.”

The words come out quieter than you expect. Truer.

Liam doesn’t say anything at first.

You can feel his gaze though—steady and quiet, like he’s really seeing you now, not just the chaos you toss around like glitter to keep everyone distracted. Not the jokes or the teasing or the stupid hoodie he still hasn’t taken back.

Just you.

You turn your head again, eyes adjusting to the dim light. His face is so close. And still, that silence.

So you whisper, “Why are you the way you are?”

His brow furrows, like he’s confused by the question.

“You take care of everyone,” you continue, voice barely above the hum of the city outside. “You check the water bottles. You chase us down when we’re late. You remember everyone’s food orders and you fold the damn setlists. You hold the whole world together like it’s just your job.” You pause, eyes searching his. “But who looks after you?”

He swallows, throat working as he stares back at you. The joke you expect doesn’t come. Neither does the deflection.

Instead, quietly: “I don’t know.”

Your chest pulls tight.

“I guess I’m just… used to it,” he adds after a moment, voice low and rough. “Being the one who has to hold it all together. Making sure no one falls apart.” He shrugs, but it’s stiff, like it costs him something. “If I don’t do it, who will?”

You blink against the sudden sting behind your eyes.

“You shouldn’t have to carry all of it.”

“Maybe not.” His smile is faint. “But I’d rather it be me than any of you.”

You roll onto your side, facing him fully now. “That’s not fair, Liam.”

“I know.”

Silence blooms again—thicker now. Deeper.

Your voice is soft when you speak again. “If you ever want someone to look after you, you could… I don’t know. Maybe let me try.”

Liam’s eyes search yours, and whatever he sees there makes something shift in his expression. His features go softer. Sadder. Hopeful.

“I think I’d like that,” he says, barely audible.

He exhales slowly, the kind of breath that carries more than words ever could. “But only if you let me do the same.”

Your brows knit slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” He shifts a little, elbow propped under his pillow, eyes still locked on yours. “Maybe try letting someone in, yeah? Let me in. Instead of hiding behind the jokes or pushing people away.”

He says it gently, no judgement in his tone. Just quiet truth.

“Because I won’t hurt you,” he adds, softer still. “Not ever.”

Your throat goes tight. You don’t look away, though everything in you wants to. It’s too much—his voice, his honesty, the way he’s looking at you like you’re something fragile he’s terrified of breaking but still wants to hold.

“You don’t know that,” you whisper.

He doesn’t flinch. “I do.”

The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable. It just is—full of everything unsaid and all the things you’re both too tired, too raw, to explain.

You lie there for a long moment, listening to the muffled buzz of traffic outside the window, to the way his breathing stays steady even as yours falters slightly.

Then, slowly, cautiously, you reach out and tug the edge of the duvet higher around both of you. Your fingers brush his in the process—brief, warm, careful.

“I’m not good at that,” you murmur. “Letting people in.”

“I know,” he says. “But maybe I’m worth the try.”

You smile, just barely. It’s small. Real. “Maybe.”

He doesn’t press further. Doesn’t reach for you. Just stays close—quiet, solid, safe.

And when you finally close your eyes, it’s to the sound of his voice, so soft it barely reaches you:

“Goodnight, troublemaker.”

And for the first time in a long while, you believe you might actually sleep.

...

The soft glow of morning light creeps through the thin curtains, casting golden streaks across the bed.

You don’t wake up right away—not fully. You shift slightly, nose scrunching against warmth. Against… fabric. Cotton. A familiar scent. Musky and clean, like laundry and Liam’s cologne.

Liam.

Your eyes flutter open, and it takes you a moment to process the position you’ve ended up in.

You’re curled against his chest, your arm draped across his stomach, one of your legs slotted between his. His hand rests low on your back, fingers splayed like he’d moved there sometime during the night and never let go. His head is tilted toward yours, his breath steady and warm where it brushes your forehead.

Your first instinct is to panic. Your second is to stay perfectly still and pretend this isn’t happening.

But before you can decide, the door creaks open.

“Oh my god.”

That’s Harry’s voice.

You groan internally.

Of course it’s Harry.

Your eyes snap fully open just as he shuffles into view, juice box in hand, eyebrows nearly in his hairline. Behind him, Louis appears, followed by Niall and Zayn in varying states of sleepy intrigue.

Louis claps a hand over his heart like he’s watching a romantic drama unfold. “Look at you two,” he whispers loudly. “This is better than telly.”

Niall’s already fumbling with his phone. “Hold still—this one’s for the scrapbook.”

“I swear to God,” you mutter, trying to sit up without disturbing the human furnace you're clinging to. “If anyone posts that, I’ll smother you all with hotel pillows.”

Liam shifts behind you with a sleepy groan. His arm tenses around your waist, like his body’s realizing you’re moving before his brain does.

“Wha—what’s going on?” he mumbles, voice hoarse.

Zayn smirks from the doorframe. “You two had a moment.”

Liam lifts his head blearily, then seems to process the arm still around your waist and the audience at the door. “Oh. No.”

“Yes,” Louis says cheerfully. “And it’s adorable.”

Liam groans, flopping back down. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Not a chance,” Niall grins.

“Out,” you say firmly, pointing toward the hallway. “All of you. Out now.”

Harry raises his juice box in salute. “Love you, snugglebugs.”

You wait until the door clicks shut before turning to Liam, propping your chin on his chest.

“Well,” you drawl with a smirk, “looks like someone’s a little cuddlebug in their sleep.”

Liam lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Don’t.”

You tilt your head innocently. “What? I didn’t force you to wrap yourself around me like a human koala.”

“I was asleep!”

“Mhm. Sure. A very snuggly sleeper, apparently.”

He shoots you a look—exasperated, red-eared, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I regret everything.”

“You regret being warm and comfy with me all night?” you tease, letting your fingers idly trail along the edge of the blanket. “That’s cold, Liam. Even for you.”

His hand brushes through his hair as he mutters, “You’re impossible.”

You flash him a grin. “But cuddly.”

He turns his face away like he’s trying to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“No,” he says, voice lower now, softer, “I really don’t.”

That silences you for a beat. Not because it’s flirty, but because it’s not. It’s just… honest.

You blink at him, heart giving a little kick in your chest.

Liam meets your eyes again, his expression unreadable but open in a way that makes your breath catch.

“I’m gonna make coffee,” he says after a second, voice gruff as he tosses the covers off and swings his legs over the side of the bed. “Before the rest of them come back and try to start a betting pool.”

You watch him stretch and shuffle toward the door in his t-shirt and sweats, then smile quietly to yourself as you flop back onto the pillows.

“Snugglebug,” you whisper to the empty room, grinning like an idiot.

...

The dining area is bright and buzzing—eggs sizzling, coffee brewing, someone shouting about burnt toast from the kitchenette. The boys are scattered around the table in various stages of awake. Niall’s got two forks and one plate. Zayn’s sipping his espresso like it’s a lifeline. Harry’s wearing sunglasses indoors, and Louis is vibrating with barely restrained glee.

You barely make it two steps into the room before Louis spots you.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, like he’s been rehearsing it all morning. “If it isn’t our little snugglebug.”

You throw him a deadpan look as you grab a mug from the counter. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Harry pipes up from behind his sunglasses. “You were full-on koala’d around him.”

“I was asleep.”

“You were cuddling him like a weighted blanket,” Niall says through a mouthful of pancake. “Looked dead cozy too.”

Zayn holds up his phone without looking up. “It’s already trending.”

Your stomach drops. “What is?”

He turns the screen. Sure enough, Twitter is ablaze.

#Y/NandLiam #SnuggleDirection #CuddleGate

There’s a blurry photo—clearly snapped by one of these traitors—of you and Liam wrapped up like a rom-com movie poster.

Liam walks in right on cue, still tugging a hoodie over his head. He freezes at the sight of Zayn’s phone. “No.”

Louis snorts into his orange juice. “Too late, Daddy. The internet has decided.”

Liam groans. “How did this even—?”

“I sent it to my mum,” Harry shrugs. “She sent it to her book club.”

“Oh my god,” you mutter.

Before Liam can argue further, Paul’s voice cuts through the noise.

“Alright, children.”

Everyone flinches.

Paul stands in the doorway like a man who has seen war. He’s holding a tablet and already rubbing his temple. “We got a message from management.”

Liam groans louder. You hide behind your coffee mug.

“Apparently,” Paul continues, voice already tight, “some higher-ups are concerned about recent... behavior.”

“Define behavior,” Louis says innocently.

Paul scrolls. “Overuse of silly string. Excessive onstage physical contact. Public displays of affection. And—and I’m quoting—‘the growing romantic speculation between Liam Payne and Y/N, which is overshadowing the band’s musical narrative.’”

You choke on your coffee.

“Oh come on,” Liam says, flailing. “We shared a bed because you lot orchestrated it!”

“You cuddled!” Niall adds helpfully.

“It was sleep paralysis snuggling,” you say flatly. “I was unconscious. There was no romantic speculation.”

“Not from you,” Zayn says. “But the internet thinks you’re married now.”

Paul sighs. “I don’t care what you’re doing. I care that I’m on my fifth phone call about it before breakfast.”

“Tell them to call Louis,” you mutter. “He’s the one that set it all up.”

“I did no such thing,” Louis says dramatically, throwing a slice of toast at you. “I merely observed fate doing its work.”

Harry nods solemnly. “Destiny. Romance. The occasional spooning.”

Paul groans again, long and loud. “Look, I’m going to say this one more time. No funny business.”

He levels you and Liam with a look that could peel paint. “No sneaky sleepovers. No inside jokes that sound weirdly flirty on camera. No stage cuddling, no midnight strolls, no sharing hoodies—”

“She stole the hoodie,” Liam mutters.

“I borrowed it,” you say sweetly.

Paul ignores you both. “This is a professional tour. We’re already juggling press, fan events, the album rollout, and now I’ve got executives breathing down my neck about the ‘secret romance unfolding in real-time between One Direction’s golden boy and the band’s resident disaster.’”

“Disaster?” you scoff.

“Golden boy?” Liam echoes.

Paul points at him, baffled. “You. I expected this from Louis. Or Harry. Maybe even Zayn on a rogue day. But you, Liam?”

Liam spreads his hands helplessly. “Nothing’s happening!”

“There’s nothing going on,” you chime in at the same time.

Paul looks between you. “Right. That explains the spooning and the stupid hashtag.”

“It was one accidental cuddle,” you say. “One.”

“And a silly string ambush that turned into a flirt-off,” Zayn adds dryly.

“And that whole ‘maybe let me look after you’ bit last night,” Niall sing-songs.

“How do you know about that?” Liam demands.

Louis grins. “Mate. Thin walls.”

Paul claps his hands once, loudly. “Okay! That’s enough.”

Everyone goes quiet.

He sighs, rubbing his temples again. “I’m not asking you to be robots. I know what this band is. I know how you lot are. But just—keep it offstage. No handholding in interviews, no sneaky kisses in green rooms, and for the love of god no calling Liam Daddy into a live mic.”

“Too late,” Harry whispers.

Paul stares into the middle distance like he’s questioning every life choice that’s brought him here. “Just… cool it, alright? Especially you two.”

You and Liam nod in sync. “We will.”

Paul gives you both a long, tired look. Then he walks away muttering, “Why is it always my band?”

As the door swings closed behind him, there’s a beat of silence.

Then Louis: “So, group cuddles are still allowed, yeah?”

Niall nods solemnly. “Long as it’s not trending.”

Zayn raises his mug. “To no funny business.”

You lift your juice in return. “And definitely no falling in love.”

Liam glances at you. “God forbid.”

But his smile lingers a beat too long.

And when your knees brush under the table, neither of you pulls away.

...

It starts with a bottle cap.

You and Louis are meant to be helping reset props in the rehearsal space, but instead, you're lobbing empty water bottles at each other like you’re eight and bored in detention.

Louis flicks a cap at you with deadly precision. It bounces off your forehead and into a lighting case.

“You absolute menace,” you say, deadpan.

He grins. “Aw, come on, babe. That was a perfect shot.”

“You want a perfect shot?” you ask sweetly, unscrewing a fresh water bottle.

Louis squints. “Don’t you dare.”

You squeeze. A direct hit. Right to the front of his shirt.

“OH, IT’S WAR!” he bellows.

And that’s it. Chaos.

He grabs the nearest bottle and aims for your legs. You shriek and duck behind a rolling speaker. Someone—not naming names (Zayn)—shouts “INCOMING” as a bottle arcs overhead and explodes in a fine mist over the mixing board.

Liam appears in the doorway like a man sensing doom. “What the hell is going on?”

“Don’t look at me,” Harry says immediately, sprawled on the couch eating grapes like he’s watching Gladiator.

“She started it,” Louis yells from behind a mic stand.

“She retaliated,” you correct, peeking over your barricade. “For justice.”

“For chaos,” Liam mutters, already rubbing his temples.

And then—then Louis makes the fatal mistake.

He aims for you again. Misses.

Hits Liam instead.

Square in the chest.

Time stops.

The entire room freezes.

Liam looks down at the wet patch on his shirt. Then slowly, slowly, lifts his eyes to Louis.

“Oh… no,” Zayn whispers from the shadows.

“I regret everything,” Louis says, stumbling backward.

“You should,” Liam says calmly, rolling up his sleeves.

“You’re not serious,” you say, eyes wide.

He turns to you. “Oh, I’m very serious.”

And just like that—Liam grabs a full bottle and douses Louis.

Louis screams. “RETREAT!”

Water explodes across the room. What starts as revenge becomes utter bedlam. You grab two bottles, dual-wielding like a deranged pirate. Zayn abandons ship entirely. Niall slips trying to sprint out the door. Harry gets hit from both sides and falls dramatically onto the couch, howling, “I’VE BEEN BETRAYED.”

And Liam?

Liam corners you.

You’re behind the lighting rig, clutching a nearly empty bottle, breath coming in gasps.

He appears like a shadow—slow, deliberate—shirt clinging to his chest, drops of water sliding down his jaw, hair dripping into his eyes. That calm, focused look on his face could only mean one thing.

You’re screwed.

“Don’t,” you warn, holding your bottle up with shaky flair. “I’m armed.”

Liam raises an eyebrow, completely unfazed. “You’re out.”

You glance at your bottle. Dripping. Useless.

Shit.

He takes one more step, closes the distance in three long strides.

“Liam,” you breathe, backing into the rig. “Let’s talk about this.”

“I’ve talked,” he says, voice low. “I warned. I even gave you an out.”

“You sprayed Louis!”

“Because he sprayed me.”

“Technically, that was me.”

“Oh, I know.”

Before you can dodge, he raises the bottle and tips it forward—cold water spilling over your head and down your front in a ruthless cascade.

You squeal, slapping at his arm, but it’s too late. You’re soaked. Shirt clinging to your skin, jeans dark and heavy with water. Your hair’s a disaster, and you’re dripping from head to toe.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, flicking wet strands from your face. “I can’t believe you just—”

“You declared war,” he shrugs, unapologetic.

You glare up at him, chest heaving. “You’re the worst.”

He eyes you—eyes dragging over your soaked shirt, the fabric clinging to every curve. His throat bobs, Adam’s apple shifting with the swallow.

“You started it,” he says, but his voice is a little rougher now. A little breathless.

Your gaze drops—his shirt’s practically transparent now, sticking to every line of his chest, the fabric outlining the strong dip of his collarbone, the curve of his biceps. There’s a drop of water sliding slowly down his neck.

You catch yourself staring and force your eyes up.

He’s staring too.

You both freeze, suddenly too aware of how close you are, how your bodies are still half-entwined from the struggle. His hand brushes yours as he lowers the bottle, and neither of you moves to step back.

“Truce?” you whisper, voice low.

His lips twitch. “Temporary.”

Your eyes flick to his mouth for half a second. You know he catches it—his breath stutters.

“Remind me,” you murmur, water still dripping down your temples, “what happened to the good guy act?”

He leans in, not touching, but close enough that you feel the heat of him through the soaked fabric. “Maybe I got tired of playing nice.”

Your breath catches.

“Or maybe,” he adds, voice like a challenge, “I just like seeing you wet.”

You choke on a laugh—half-scandalized, half-aroused. “Liam Payne, did you just—”

He grins, stepping back with maddening calm. “I’ll grab towels.”

And just like that, he turns and walks off—smirking like a man who knows exactly what he just did.

You’re left standing there soaked, stunned, and way too hot under your wet clothes.

Oh. You are so not winning this war.

...

Chapter Three

[daisyblog]

One Night

Too Young Masterlist Summary: The night that changed YN and Louis lives.

Warning: unprotected sex, one night stand, unplanned pregnancy, smoking

Based on this request

“You’re pregnant!” Were the last words YN expected the doctor to say as she sat in the room.

She felt her whole body freeze, her heart thumped against her chest with force. “I-I…I c-can’t be.”.

“I can see this is a bit of a shock for you.” The doctor sympathised. “But it does explain the symptoms you’ve described to me.”.

YN couldn’t help but feel numb as she walked back to her car, notes for her next appointment and a new mother booklet in her hands, and drove towards the one place she felt comfort. But as she drove towards her Mums house, it was in that moment that it hit her. The baby’s Dad. 

---

YN had been looking forward to this weekend since the moment the tour had been announced. Her brother was finally coming back home to Manchester. One Direction were playing at the Etihad Stadium all weekend, it was a huge achievement for them to be playing stadiums for their third tour. 

She was excited to spend the entire weekend with her family. She saw her Mum and Gemma regularly with her only living in Manchester for university, but with Harry’s hectic schedule it was rare for them all to be together. 

YN was fortunate that Fridays were a no lecture day for her. She was coming towards the end of her second year of studying Fashion Management. 

She was lucky that she had met a few close friends in uni who had no interest in who her brother was. It was something that she was dreading before going, knowing how people only wanted to be associated with her for being Harry Styles’ twin sister. 

But her two close friends, who are now her roommates, Beth and Evie were genuinely interested in YN for her and not who her family was. In fact Beth and Evie had openly said that they knew who One Direction were, but they weren’t huge fans in the sense that they were invested in their life’s. 

YN had invited them along to the shows but both declined, Beth’s was travelling home to see her boyfriend and Evie didn’t want to intrude on YN’s family time, despite YN insisting she wouldn’t be. 

Just as YN had finished getting dressed and fluffing up her hair that she had curled, when her Mum phoned to tell her that  they had arrived at the stadium. The stadium was a short walk from YN’s flat, so she decided to take the risk hoping she wouldn’t be spotted by any fans. 

Harry had sent her text to explain how to get into the venue, by going to the back entrance where one of his security would be waiting for her. Paul, who she knew quite well from visiting Harry on tour previous times, showed her the way through the large venue and to the backstage area where her family were waiting. 

“YN!” Harry dramatically ran towards his sister, wrapping his arms around his younger twin.

“I’ve missed you!” YN spoke into his shoulder as she hugged him tight. 

Harry let her go so she could give her Mum, Gemma and Robin a hug too. They all caught up, Harry sharing stories of the tour so far, Gemma telling them all about her new work project and YN explaining her university life and how she’ll be glad when second year is over. 

The weekend had been amazing. The boys had played two shows, one on the Friday night and one on the Saturday night. YN had always been proud of her brother, he had been talented since they were younger but watching her “womb mate”, as they often called each other, sing in front of a full stadium near their hometown was mind blowing. 

After the boys show on the Sunday evening, Niall and Louis had suggested a night out in Manchester, but Harry, Liam and Zayn declined, and said they weren’t feeling up to it. 

“YN? Do you want to come?” Niall asked, as she waited with Harry before she was heading back to her flat. Before she answered, she looked to Harry for approval. 

“You can go if you want Minnie.” Harry reassured her, calling her by the nickname he had made for her once she found out he was born seven minutes before her. “Niall and Louis will look after you.”

“C’mon Styles…I bet you know where all the cheap drinks are.” Niall assumed as she was a university student. 

YN had taken Niall and Louis, along with some of their friends that had tagged along to a club that YN had been to before. Niall had spent the first part of the evening challenging YN to a game of who could drink the most drinks, and it was safe to say that the liquids had taken over YN. 

Her once steady balance, now began to wobble slightly and her head felt free and light as she danced to the loud music. It was only when she noticed Louis pull out a cigarette from the packet, that she too wanted to smoke. YN wasn’t a smoker, but whenever she had alcohol in her system it was like she become someonelse for the night. 

YN could see Louis making his way towards the exit, so she carefully wobbled her way through the crowd to catch up to him. “Lou!”, she reached for his arm, causing him to turn slightly at the new touch. 

Once Louis realised it was YN holding onto him, his posture relaxed. “You alright darling?”.

“Can I come with you?” YN asked, as she gestured with her head towards the white stick he still held between his fingers. 

“Of course my love.” Louis gently guided YN infront of him so they wouldnt lose eachother.

Once they were outside and tucked into a little corner, out of sight, Louis gave YN a cigarette from the packet before he gave her his lighter. 

“Thanks.” YN quickly cupped her hand to light the white stick that she held between her lips. 

“Does Harry know you smoke?” Louis asked as he took his lighter back and copied YN’s actions to light his own. 

YN took a drag before blowing out the smoke, the grey cloud circling them both. “I don’t…I’m more of a social smoker.”.

“Yeah and me.” Louis sarcastically said as he brought the white stick up to his mouth. 

YN let out a cough at his words. “I’ve seen the video Lou.”.

“Don’t know what you’re talking ’bout love.” a cheeky expression written all over his face. 

“Your eyes are pretty.” The random compliment fell from YN’s lips. 

Louis tried to hide his smile but his lips failed him. “You’re drunk.”.

YN shrugged her shoulders, the alcohol doing the talking for her. “I still know a pretty face when I see one.”.

“Pretty eyes and a pretty face.” Louis looked at the ground, a smile threatening to appear. “You’re making me blush babe.”.

“Well sober me wouldn’t say it..so just take it.” YN admitted as she put out her cigarette and threw it into the bin, Louis copying her. 

“What else wouldn’t sober YN say?” Louis questioned, intrigued at what else YN had to say. 

Louis was now leaning against the wall as YN stood slightly in front of him. “I..I-I” YN stuttered. “I wouldn’t..uh…I wouldn’t say that I’ve thought about kissing you a few times.”.

“Why haven’t you?” Louis knew he was risking a lot but couldn’t help himself. 

“‘Cause you’re my brothers best friend!”. YN thought that would have been obvious to him. 

Louis shrugged his shoulders from his position still leaning against the wall. “One night…no strings attached.”.

“Nobody would know?” YN’s sober self is loosing to tipsy YN’s dream.

“Nobody would know!” Louis reassured her. 

Before she could change her mind, YN grabbed Louis hand and pulled him in the direction of her flat.

---

As YN pulled up the road towards her Mum and Robin’s cottage styled home, she felt nervous. She knew her Mum was the least judgemental person and only saw the good in everything, but YN knew her news was unexpected. 

“YN my darling, I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.” YN was wrapped in a warm motherly hug, a cuddle that was all too familiar. “Not that I’m complaining.

“Just needed my Mum.” YN admitted, as she  took a seat by the kitchen table. Anne bringing them both a cup of tea. 

“Everything alright my love?”. Anne knew her three children better than anyone, and she knew when something was on YN’s mind.

YN hesitated, wondering how to break the news to her Mum. But in true YN style, she ripped the bandaid off. “I’m pregnant!”.

Anne’s eyes widened, she wasn’t angry or upset about the news, but shocked was definitely the right word. Anne could never be angry at her children, especially when it came to baby news, she always saw babies as a blessing. 

“You’re pregnant?” Anne repeated, wanting to make sure she head her youngest daughter correctly. 

Tears threatened to spill as YN nodded her head. “I’m sorry Mum!”.

“Why are you apologising?” Anne reached over the table to squeeze her hand. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”.

“I’m twenty and I’m gonna be a single Mum.” YN spat out, getting angry at herself for being in this position. 

“I don’t want to question you…but the baby’s father?” Anne noticed YN’s shoulders tense and her knee began to bounce up and down. “You hadn’t mentioned seeing someone.”.

YN bit her lip, thinking about how she was suppose to tell her mother that her unborn baby’s dad was actually her brother’s best friend. “He doesn’t know…it was just a one night thing.”.

“Look…Darling…we are here to support you every step of the way.” Anne meant every word she was saying. “You’re not alone.”.

---

YN opened her flat door, silence greeting her as Louis trailed behind her, his hand still holding hers. 

From their short walk from the club, they had sobered up a little. “Drink?”.

“Yeah…sounds good.”. Louis followed YN, assuming she was heading towards the kitchen. 

“What do you want? Beer, wine, vodka?”. YN named some of the options they had.

“I’ll just have a beer please.” YN passed him the brown bottle from the fridge and continue to make her own drink. “What the fook are you doing?”.

“What?”. YN asked has she poured the vodka. “It’s vodka and coke.”.

“In a fookin’ mug?”. Louis couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

“It’s student life babe.” YN took a mouthful from the mug. “Just drink from whatever you can find.”. 

After standing in the kitchen for a while longer, talking and continuing to drink, YN found the courage to move closer to where Louis was standing with his back pressed against the counter. 

The room was silent, as their eyes focussed on each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. Louis wore a smirk on his face, as he noticed YN was now standing right in front of him. 

“So.” YN turned her head to the side slightly, eyes still focused on Louis. “Are you gonna kiss me.”.

Within seconds, their lips were moving messily against each others. Louis hand was tangled in YN’s loose curls, whilst YN’s hands pulled at his thin t-shirt to pull him closer. 

YN blindly moved them into her bedroom, both unwilling for their lips to part. It was although now they got a taste, they didn’t want to stop. 

As they moved as one further into YN’s room, Louis reached for the bottom of YN’s dressed and pulled it off her body, leaving her in just her underwear. YN followed Louis lead and began to pull at his t-shirt and within seconds they were both fully undressed. 

Louis carefully brought YN back to him, pushing his lips against hers once more, before guiding them both over to the single bed that sat in the corner of the room. 

“You sure ‘bout this?” Louis asked, as he nibbled down her neck, soft groans leaving YN’s mouth. 

“Yes.” YN moaned out as Louis lips left wet kisses down her neck.

Louis didn’t hesitate before he gently laid YN down on the small bed, hoovering over her and finding her lips with his. Silence surrounds them as Louis lines himself up and carefully pushes himself inside of her, earning a moan from the both of them. 

The room is filled with grunts, moans and the sounds of the bed hitting the wall above them as he continues to his movement. What surprises Louis is when YN brings her hand up to his chest to stop him. 

“You alright?” Louis was concerned that he may have pushed YN too far. 

“I want to go on top.” 

YN’s words shocked Louis, but he happily swapped positions and left out a loud moan when YN repositioned herself so he was back inside of her. YN left sloppy kisses, in between her own moans, down Louis neck and before they knew it they both came undone together. 

They fell asleep tangled together under the sheets, completely unaware how that night was going to change their life forever. 

Taglist: @jillsvalentinex

[femalestyles]

stunt (h.s.)

masterlist

TW: none

wc: ~4.3k

-

31: minneapolis, mn

Have you ever tried keeping a secret from your best friend?

No, let me rephrase that—have you ever tried keeping a secret from Harper Anderson?

It’s near impossible.

She doesn’t mention anything on the flight to Minneapolis. Instead, she leans over the armrest and talks in hushed disbelief about Kayla and Zayn—as if saying it enough times will somehow make it make sense. Now that I knew, there was no real reason for Louis to keep it from her anymore. In fact, he told her the same night I found out. I’m just grateful that she doesn’t seem upset with Louis for keeping it from her.

It’s the first thing she brings up when she sees me—not the fact that I never came and found her after the Detroit concert, or that I didn’t show up to the concert at all. Still, the look on her face is enough to tell me she is suspicious. 

And so I keep my eyes glued straight ahead, especially as Harry walks off the plane a few paces in front of us. I can’t look at him, not even a glance, or it’ll be written all over our faces. Everytime he looked at me, it was as if he was taking off my clothes with his eyes, and Harper would definitely notice that. 

It’s only been two days since that night, but it’s like we already can’t keep our hands off of each other—brushing of the hands when nobody is looking, his knuckles sliding against the small of my back when he passes by, holding hands underneath the table. Every touch is enough to set my entire body alight. We even make it through soundcheck without any carnage, only a few sideway glances from Harper every time Harry even looks at me. A pang of guilt runs through me everytime, but I can’t risk it yet. Harry and I are still figuring out what this is—we’re teetering on a tightrope, and one wrong word could send us plummeting. So I keep my mouth shut and I pray to God Harper doesn’t push too hard.

On concert day, once we were absolutely certain—beyond a shadow of a doubt—that everyone else had vanished off to perform their usual pre-show rituals, Harry and I slipped away to conduct a little ritual of our own. Well, maybe three, but who’s counting? 

His hotel room is dim and quiet, offering us a sanctuary from the scrutiny of the world. Outside these walls, there were prying eyes and razor-sharp words, but inside, when it was just him and I, time seemed to slow. 

Sweat-slicked skin twisted in the sheets, his voice, low and rough, groaning my name into the pillow. My fingers clutching at his back like I could keep him tethered to me, even if only for a little longer. It always started out gentle, before it descended into something primal—every time, without fail. 

I’m dressed again—sort of. Hair fluffed back into place, my makeup repaired just enough to make me look like I hadn’t spent the last ninety minutes thoroughly wrecked by Harry Styles. I stand near the edge of the bed, trying not to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. He lay on his side, his curls mussed, the tattooed lines of his arms flexing slightly as he reaches for me again. Both hands catch mine, lacing fingers through desperately. 

“Mm,” Harry hums, the low sound reverberating from the back of his throat. His lashes flutter as he peers up at me boyishly, cheek pressed into the pillow. “Come back to bed,” he whispers, voice thick with sleep and sex. His grip on my hands tightens. “Just five more minutes.”

God help me.

I exhale a laugh, even though every part of me wants to crawl back into bed with him. “You said that an hour ago,” I tease, shaking my head even as my resolve wobbles. I lean down slowly, brushing my lips over his in a lingering kiss. He meets me halfway, surging up to capture my mouth, his lips begging please don’t go.

And it almost works.

My body leans toward him like a magnet. I could feel the edge of the mattress biting into the fronts of my thighs. His hands start sliding up my arms again, trying to reel me in, but I catch them and press them back into the mattress with a soft smile.

“I’m already twenty minutes late,” I whisper, my forehead resting against his for a moment. “I’ll see you after the show. Promise.”

He sighs dramatically and flops onto his back with exaggerated despair. His heavy-lidded green eyes stay fixed on me and I feel them even as I reluctantly step away. I pause at the door, looking back at him—shirtless, hair tousled, chest still rising and falling. There is something unfair about how beautiful he looks. I take him in for a full minute, drinking in his tantalizing limbs and messy hair.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I say over my shoulder, grinning as I blew him a kiss. “You’re not playing fair.”

Harry just smirks as I slip out the door, performing a quick survey of the hallway. Clear.

The smile stays on my lips all the way to the elevator, stretched so wide it almost hurt. I couldn’t hide it, not from the lobby concierge or the girl waiting next to me out front. I wait for my uber, fingers flexing and curling into a fist as I try to cling to the warm feeling of his hands in mine. 

As I slide into the backseat of the car, I take a deep breath. The last few days play through my mind rapidly, reminding me how quickly everything has changed.

Just a few days ago, I felt like I was going through the motions. But now, I actually felt something when I opened my eyes in the morning—excitement. A fizzy, fluttery anticipation I hadn’t felt in a very, very long time. We were sneaking around like a pair of reckless teenagers, slipping into hotel rooms and ducking into corners, trying to steal little pieces of each other. And sure, it was a little crazy, dangerous even, but it was ours. We’d come clean eventually. We weren’t stupid—this wasn’t sustainable long-term. For the first time in what felt like forever, I had something just for me, something I wasn’t ready to share with the world yet.

Not like Zayn and Kayla, whose privacy was shredded the second I came into Zayn’s dressing room. Now that all six of us knew, there was no putting the cat back into the bag. The timing was delicate, the optics even more so. How do you launch a relationship between Kayla and Zayn without reigniting the already controversial headlines around her and Harry? How do you get the public to forget a narrative you sold them in the first place?

You wait, you let it fizzle out.

The best strategy was silence. No more sightings of Harry and Kayla—let the media connect the dots. And once the dust finally settled, we’d step in and introduce Zayn and Kayla.

A soft sigh escapes me as I lean my head against the cold window, my fingers tracing idle patterns in the fogging glass. It’s a lot. The logistics alone are enough to make my head spin, but it’s worth it. It’s worth it if it means I finally get Harry all to myself.

Outside, Minneapolis is blanketed in a thick layer of fresh, powdery snow. It clings to tree branches, covers the parked cars lined down the main streets. The sidewalks are dotted with bundled figures—students, mostly—shuffling carefully to avoid the ice beneath the surface, their heavy coats puffed out with layers, hoods cinched tight against the biting wind. I tug my own winter jacket tighter to my body, eyes lighting up as we roll up to a sign that reads University of Minnesota.

“Right here is perfect,” I say with a small smile, voice muffled slightly by the scarf around my neck. My gloved hand reaches for the handle as the car jerks gently to a stop. I can already feel the cold seeping through the crack in the door. “Thank you.”

The driver gives me a nod through the rearview mirror, his breath fogging the glass as he eases the car away. I step out cautiously, one boot landing on the salted curb with a crunch. The moment the door shuts behind me, the cold hits. My breath crystallizes in the air in front of me, floating in little clouds as I hunch my shoulders and tug my coat tighter. The snow creaks softly under my feet as I make my way across the main walkway, scanning the buildings around me, trying to piece together Lexi’s voice from our call earlier.

Right at the sign, second building on your left, third floor.

I veer right past the entrance sign, navigating the half-cleared walkway as a couple of students pass by, their heads ducked and earbuds in. Finals had officially ended earlier this afternoon, and the mass evacuation had already begun. Most students were probably halfway home already, fleeing before the blizzard rolled in and stranded everyone.

Lexi and I were doing the same—scheduled to leave tomorrow evening, catching a quick flight into Chicago before the storm had time to settle in. 

I spot the second building up ahead, a squat, beige brick structure. A student exiting holds the door just long enough for me to catch it, and I nod a quick thanks before slipping inside. Instantly, I’m enveloped in warmth, the rush of heated air washing over my frozen skin. I exhale in relief, the tips of my ears burning as they begin to thaw.

I unzip my coat halfway and stamp the snow from my boots onto the worn carpet, brushing the stray flakes from my shoulders. My cheeks and nose are probably bright red, but there’s no helping that now. I keep my gloves on as I step into the maze of hallways. Concert venues were chaotic, but dorm hallways were worse, each one identical to the last. My boots squeak softly against the linoleum as I climb the stairwell to the third floor, counting doors as I go.

“Three-thirty… three-thirty-one…” I murmur, my breath shallow with anticipation. “Three-thirty-three.”

Finally. I stop in front of the door, a whiteboard mounted crookedly to the surface. A smile tugs at my lips as I read the bright scrawl written in purple marker:

HAPPY WINTER BREAK! — R + L

There’s a tiny snowflake doodle beside it, and a smiley face that’s starting to smudge.

My knuckles rap eagerly against the wood and the door swings open almost immediately, revealing a girl with sleek black hair cascading down to her shoulders and olive-toned skin. I recognize her instantly from Lexi’s photos—this had to be Rachel, the roommate Lexi was always raving about. Without hesitation, she opens the door wider in a silent welcome, but I barely take one step into the room before I’m tackled—arms wrapped tight around my torso, boots sliding against the polished dorm floor as I stumble forward with a surprised laugh. 

My sister’s familiar vanilla shampoo scent hits me first, followed by the warmth of her body, her slightly taller frame curling protectively around mine. I cling to her just as tightly, my cheeks aching with a grin I can’t fight.

“Okay, okay,” I murmur with a laugh, pulling back slightly, though her hands still clutch my arms. I turn to Rachel, offering a grateful smile and extending a gloved hand. “Juliet,” I say warmly.

She reaches out and gives it a firm shake. “Nice to finally meet you,” she says with an easy grin, releasing my hand as she steps aside to let me get my bearings.

I glance around the dorm, taking in the room’s decor. The room looks like someone took a roll of painter’s tape and drew a dividing line right down the middle. On one side, Lexi’s world bursts in color. Her desk is cluttered with highlighters and gel pens, a tangled string of fairy lights draped along the edge of her bunk bed. Bright posters plaster the wall, with affirmations in fun, bubbly fonts. A neon pink lightning bolt glows softly above her desk, casting a faint glow over the photo collage pinned beneath it—snapshots of our family, high school friends.

Rachel’s side, by contrast, is moodier. Plastic green vines snake across her walls, pinned above a dark comforter. Classic rock posters—Fleetwood Mac, Queen, Bowie—line her walls, alongside a portable record player perched atop a black cube shelf. I could already see how these two polar opposites balanced each other out.

Rachel sighs wistfully as she reaches down to grab a worn canvas duffle bag from beside her bed. “I so wish I could stay and go to the concert with you guys,” she says, her expression tinged with disappointment. “But my parents were adamant I fly out tonight…wanted me home before the snow grounds the flights.”

Lexi groans but moves forward, wrapping Rachel in a heartfelt hug, swaying a little as she pressed a kiss to her roommate’s cheek. Rachel grins, slinging the duffle over her shoulder with her headphones already looped around her neck. She steps toward the door, then pauses, her hand resting on the knob. She glances back over her shoulder, her gaze warm as it flicks between the two of us.

“It was really nice to meet you, Juliet,” she says sincerely.

“You too,” I reply, meaning it, and offer a small wave as she opens the door.

Rachel’s fingers tighten briefly on the duffle strap. “Lex, I’ll see you in a few days,” she calls back casually. “Just text me when your flight lands.” With that, she slips out the door. 

I blink, my smile slowly fading as her last sentence sinks in. A crease forms between my brows, but before I can even open my mouth to question it, Lexi’s already moving, bustling around the room.

“Thank god finals are over,” she breathes nervously, pacing between her desk and her bed as she yanks a hanger from the rack. “I seriously thought I was going to fail Econ I.”

I lean against her desk chair, watching her. “Why did Rachel say that?” I ask abruptly, cutting through her ramble.

Lexi doesn’t look at me. She’s half-turned, shoulder angled away, her voice light and distracted as she shuffles through a stack of clothes. “Say what?”

“That she’ll see you in a few days.” My voice is quieter now. “She knows you’re flying to Chicago with me tomorrow, right?”

Lexi freezes for a split second, the same way I do when I get nervous. She recovers quickly, but I can already feel the shift in energy. Her back is still to me as she peels off her t-shirt, replacing it with a cropped black long sleeve, tight-fitting and edged with delicate lace. She grabs her jeans from the bed, tugging down her sweatpants.

“Lex,” I try again, more gently this time.

She turns then, finally facing me. Fully dressed now, her brown eyes meet mine, wide and slightly anxious. Her lips part, but it takes a moment for anything to come out. She draws in a deep breath.

“Okay,” she starts, voice barely above a whisper. “About that…” I feel my stomach twist even before she says the words. “She-invited-me-to-her-house-for-Christmas-and-I-kinda-said-yes.”

It spills out in a single breath, rushed and run together, as if she’s hoping I won’t catch every word, but I do. I stare at her, a deep crease forming in my brow as my heart sinks to my stomach. Lexi’s eyes drop to the floor, unable to meet mine now. Her cheeks are flushed pink with guilt. She fidgets with the hem of her shirt, rocking slightly on her heels, her mismatched socks peeking out beneath her jeans. For a moment, she looks so much younger--truly my little sister.

“Huh?” I manage, even though I heard her clearly. “You’re going to Rachel’s for Christmas?” I ask, more pointed now, needing to see if maybe she’ll take it back.

Lexi winces before she finally lifts her head to meet my eyes. “Juli…” she says softly. She tries to smile but can’t quite manage it. “Her family owns this gorgeous ranch in Colorado,” she explains, the words coming faster now. “She invited me to spend the holidays with them. Her mom’s making a whole Christmas dinner, and they’ve got these old-school snowmobiles, and we’re gonna go skiing and everything…” Her voice trails off as she sees the look on my face.

“Oh.” The word comes out thin, barely audible. I nod once, then again, slower this time, trying to keep myself from getting emotional. I didn’t want to ruin our reunion by crying.

We’ve spent every Christmas together, our whole lives. Even the last few years, we made the best of it. We had our own traditions: premade Christmas dinners from the local market while we watched A Christmas Story on a loop. I always thought someday we’d spend Christmas apart. Maybe she’d have a husband, and I’d be with my own family, but not now--not this soon.

“I just…” Lexi steps toward me, her voice softening as she reaches out. “Please don’t be mad.”

Her fingers wrap gently around mine, her eyes round and pleading, glassy with unshed tears. The sight of her looking so genuinely upset—like she knows she’s hurt me but doesn’t know how to fix it—is enough for my heart to soften at the edges.

I let out a long breath, shaking my head as I squeeze her hands back.

“I’m not mad,” I murmur. “A little disappointed, yeah. But I’m not mad.”

Lexi’s shoulders sag in relief. “I swear,” she says, tugging me into a quick hug, her arms tight around my back, “I’ll make this up to you. I will.”

I bury my face briefly in her shoulder, eyes catching the glowing red numbers of the digital clock on her desk over her shoulder.

“Shit,” I mutter, pulling back. “We’ve gotta go if we want to catch the opening song.”

The car ride over is quiet, like both of us are pretending it isn’t awkward even though it kind of is. But we’re sisters, we’ve been through worse than a little disappointment and hurt feelings. Awkward silences don’t last long with us. 

Lexi stares out the window, her fingers tapping along the edge of the door as streetlights casting pale gold streaks across her face. The snow has let up, but the sky still looks dark, brewing something vicious.

“So,” I say finally, breaking the silence. “You remember how everyone thought Harry and Kayla were a thing?”

Her head snaps toward me, eyes narrowing with interest. “Obviously. Everyone thinks that.”

“Well, plot twist. That’s fake. Fully manufactured. PR move,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Kayla and Zayn are the real deal.”

Lexi’s jaw drops, her whole body swiveling toward me in the seat. “No way.”

“Way,” I smirk, holding up a finger. “But you have to swear not to tell anyone.”

“Promise,” Lexi scoffs, a wide smile breaking across her face.

I leave it at that, carefully omitting the messier part. She doesn’t even know about the first kiss, let alone everything that’s followed. The car slows, pulling up to the venue, one of the largest we’ve hit in weeks. Despite the bitter cold, the crowd is massive. I direct the driver toward the back entrance, flashing my badge at security as we slip through the door. Lexi’s hand is snug in mine as I pull her through the side gates.

“Stay close,” I murmur, practically dragging her along as we weave through narrow corridors. A string of soft curses leaves my mouth when I hear the familiar notes of the opening song echoing from the stage.

Still, the adrenaline is running high as we reach the wings. Harper is the first to turn, her blonde ponytail swinging as she catches sight of us. “Oh my god—Little Lexi Cooper!” she shrieks over the thunder of the music, throwing her arms around my sister without hesitation.

Lexi stumbles slightly at the force of the hug, laughing as she hugs back. I catch the wince on her face from the sheer volume and dig into my coat pocket, handing her a pair of orange foam earplugs.

“Twist and tuck,” I shout over the noise, miming it for her.

She nods, doing exactly that, the foam disappearing into her ears. I follow suit, though it does little against the booming bass. Harper’s lips move in conversation with Lexi, but it’s mostly nonsense now. After a few seconds, I clear my throat and motion to the woman on my other side.

Lexi turns and freezes while Kayla watches her with a small, amused smile. Lexi’s eyes go wide as she steps forward hesitantly, clearly trying to keep her voice level. “Lexi Cooper,” she says, thrusting out a hand. “Huge fan of your work. Seriously.”

Her voice cracks halfway through the sentence.

To her credit, Kayla just laughs and pulls Lexi into a hug. “You’re adorable,” she says, smiling. 

Reminder: apologize to Kayla.

“Juliet’s told me so much about you,” Kayla says kindly, reminding me how much of an asshole I am once again for screaming at her. Lexi gives me a grateful look, her eyes bright as she releases Kayla from the hug. Then she turns to the stage, her mouth falls open, awe written all over her face as she watches the boys perform up close. The stage lights flicker across her wide eyes, and she leans forward slightly.

I shift beside her, gently slipping my hand into hers. I give it a soft squeeze. She glances at me, and I offer a tiny smile to let her know that we’re okay. The four of us begin to dance as the music swells, the songs not getting old even though we’d all heard them over a dozen times now. 

As the set begins to wind down, I lean toward Lexi and tug at her hand again. “Come on,” I shout over the noise, nodding toward the hallway.

She nods eagerly, and the four of us peel away from the wings, heading toward the backstage dressing room. Inside, it’s a hundred times quieter. The bass still hums through the walls, but it’s a muted throb now, compared to the earth shattering volume in the wings.

We start grabbing water bottles and flopping onto the couch in various states of collapse. Harper fans herself with a backstage pass. Kayla kicks off her boots with a dramatic sigh, leaning her head back against the cushion. I stretch my legs out in front of me, rolling my sore ankles. Lexi, on the other hand, is a bundle of energy, pacing the room.

Then she spins on her heel, hands flung out to either side. “Holy shit!” she exclaims, breathless, hair wild. “That was incredible. I can’t believe you guys get to see that every week. You lucky bitches.”

Laughter ripples around the room. Harper throws a pillow at her, Kayla clinks her water bottle against mine, and I just watch my sister with a full heart. Her cheeks are flushed pink, her eyes glowing.

I smile lazily up at Lexi, all of our heads whipping toward the door as five amped up boys barrel into the room, only growing louder when they find the four of us lounging. Louis practically dives onto the couch next to Harper, pulling her into a sideways hug that leaves them both sweaty. Zayn beelines for Kayla, who rises to greet him, their foreheads pressing together in a soft, intimate moment. I watch happily before a familiar pair of green eyes catches mine from across the room.

Harry throws me a quick, teasing wink, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a smirk that makes my stomach twist. Heat rushes to my cheeks and I drop my gaze instinctively, just in time to see Niall striding toward Lexi.

Lexi lets out a delighted squeal as she practically launches herself into his arms. He catches her with ease, spinning her around like this is some damn romcom.

“Alexandria,” he drawls dramatically, drawing out every syllable. She giggles, swooning over him and confirming that my gag reflex is indeed still intact.

“Alexandria,” he drawls, making her swoon and confirming that my gag reflex is indeed intact. I roll my eyes and clear my throat, just loud enough to get his attention. Niall glances over his shoulder, still holding Lexi, and meets my unimpressed stare. I raise my hand slowly, dragging my pointer finger across my throat in a silent warning. His eyes go wide for a beat, and I see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Harry lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he watches our interaction.

I smirk, folding my arms as Niall quickly eases Lexi back to her feet. His carefree expression falters only for a second before he rebounds with a bright grin, shaking off the warning.

“So,” he says, clapping his hands and turning to the rest of us like nothing happened, “where are we celebrating tonight?”

We glance around at each other. Ideas start flying from every corner of the room.

“There’s a dive bar down the street,” Harper offers.

“Nah, too dingy,” Louis replies, wrinkling his nose.

“What about that new nightclub?” Kayla suggests.

“Too dressy,” Zayn mumbles, already tugging at his collar. “I’m not putting on another button-down tonight.” Everyone groans in agreement, too tired to go back and change. 

Lexi, who’s been quietly checking her phone, suddenly lifts her head. A slow, mischievous smile spreads across her face, and she looks around the circle with mischief in her eye.

“Have you guys ever been to a frat party?”

-

taglist: @behindmygreyeyes @indierockgirrl @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @emsma11

[beneathashadytree]

Head canon:

He refuses to admit to it but Zayne absolutely tracked down your surgeon and made sure that that surgical team are bringing their absolute A game on your surgery. He didn't threaten them but he doesn't need to...like bffr when he just looks in a certain way, a message is passed effectively. Absolute best of luck with the surgery and recovery🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

-🌺

Nonnie you’re absolutely melting my heart over here… both because of the scenario itself and because of how cute you are to have written it up😭💗💗💗

Would absolutely love to see Zayne arching his eyebrows at them, as if daring them to fail this surgery (for the third time… deep sigh). Also would be nice to have him silently fuss over me afterwards. Fluffing the pillows? Drawing the blinds? Feeding me till I’m fully conscious again? SOLD. SEND ME INTO THE OPERATING ROOM RN.

And thank you so so much for this much-needed comfort, can’t tell you how much it made my entire week to be on the receiving end of such adorable scenarios 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

[ncillary]

What if(s) : Likely companionship - Reading minds

MC : -sigh- The Wanderers are relentless today. I just don't have the energy to cook.

/Ding Dong/

She looked at the front door. Slowly approaching it with questions in mind.

MC : Xavier?

Xavier : Care to join me for a hot pot night?

MC : Nice ! You're my savior.

Both preparing and ready to start... except..

MC : Err... there's no vegetables to go with it.

Xavier : -scratching his neck- My mind only remembers meat to replenish energy from that harsh Wanderers.

MC : -laugh- What's with that? Nevermind, I'll see what I can procure magically from my ice provider.

/Ding Dong/

Both looking at each other.

MC : Are we being noisy again?

Xavier : -shake head quickly- No. I think it's pretty decent.

Nonetheless, MC sauntered warily to the front door. Plastic bags were all she saw dangling in front of her.

??? : I know you're tired from the look you make when you walk out of the hospital. Let me prepare something for you.

MC : Zayne?

She opened the door to her main physician.

Zayne : It will be a simple meal and veggies included. Let me borrow your kitchen.

MC : Wha-

Zayne was about to walk inside but stood still once he met eye to eye with another occupant. Staring ensued. Hesitant on both party.

Zayne : I apologized for barging in. I'll just leave this to you.

MC : Wait !

She turned to look from one male to another. Her mind clicked.

MC : Right ! Ice provider.

Both male look at her confusedly.

/Moments later/

MC : It's done. Let's eat.

The trio ate their hotpot. Two out of three feeling awkward. MC? Smiling blissfully.

MC : Come on, Zayne. Where's my ice seal?

He shook his head.

MC : Oh, please. My drinks miss it. It's less delicious without it.

Silent long stare. Hand hovered her glass. Blue mist formed the requested ice seal. Outside of it instead of the usual half-emerged in the drinks. A small rebellious sign. She cheered anyway.

MC : Xavier, let's introduce a new friend to the ice seal.

He scratches his neck. Continue eating.

MC : Bunny is a social creature. Or...does it not want to befriend the lonely ice seal.

Her eyes sparkling with hope. He yielded.

Lights collected in his hands, dispersing some golden specks as the bunny fluffed up. It hopped on the table and settled quietly on the other side of the glass.

Dinner continued. The awkwardness slowly fades. She got up to get the leftover dessert she baked a few days before.

Xavier : Thank you for the veggies. It was delicious.

Zayne : Glad it suits the theme tonight.

MC : Zayne, can you make some flowers to decorate the tarts?

MC asked from the kitchen.

Zayne : To hide the burn parts as usual?

MC : Shush.

Both laughing.

Xavier : It was a nice touch. Goes well with the tart too.

Zayne : Didn't expect to meet "the devourer" tonight.

Xavier : -groaning- What a nickname.

The conversation turned to gaming somehow and both were talking more freely now.

MC watched from afar and smiled.

Somewhere along the night, the glass was replaced by her scrunchies. The seal and the bunny looking content to lean against it.

[chuluoyi]

bawling. rolling on the floor. knees to my chest. heart squeezing painfully but also AJDJKWKSKQKDIWKDKWKD okayokay i could go on and on but oh my GAHHHDDDD I read dawns the moment I woke up and had to read it again another three times to collect myself enough because HELLO???

filling half of the fic with happiness and hope before slamming us to the ground I love that chu <3 them playing claw machine and kitty cards were so cute immmmm :(( THE SYLUS CAMEO THO LMAO I JUMPEDDDD

so. explain this to me. you mean to tell me mister Zayne was aloof and absent since finding out so almost for half of the pregnancy he turned back cold wow and what if i find the nearest cliff rn. I saw your post about the divorce papers never being brought up and i wondered the same thing but your explanation made sense... zayne didn't need a reason to bring it up anymore (plus, it'd most likely only add a crack in their relationship again).

reader always on the brink of death is my roman empire LMAO SHE NEEDS TO STOP 😭 (It's my favorite trope) but shit is hilarious.

baby name reveal NOW (I was hit with the thought of what if he named his daughter after late mc) ok CIAO THANK U FOR EVERYTHING YOU'RE A GODSENDDDDD

love,

☃️

🥹 i’m so happy to get long reactions like this actually it makes me kick my feet— but 3x really?!😭

i have to give them fluff :’) they have to be fluffing before everything falls down after all🙂‍↕️ and HAHA i was planning this fic of sylus and assassin!reader going on a date in linkon so i got inspired and added them as cameos🥹

no no he isn’t being aloof that long!🥹 based on google, the time to find out baby’s gender is around 18-22 weeks. the reader is at 22 weeks then when zayne found out about the divorce papers, and she just reaches 26 weeks when they really reconcile… 🥹 so in total, around 3-4 weeks-ish and it isn’t like he is ignoring her or anything (he’s away in another city for a week but even then they stay in touch via calls -> this is written in the fic), just that sometimes he looks unapproachable even to her that she realizes it 🥹

me too :’) my go-to hurt/comfort is when the reader is harmed in any way and the male lead beats the crap out of everything 🙂‍↕️ and HAHAHA reader will recollect those divorce papers so fast should he name their baby daughter after his late girlfriend— 😭

[allwaswell16]

This is a fic rec of my favorite Louis/Liam fics as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

❤️ Only Hate The Road When You're Missing Home by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships

(M, 49k, famous/not famous au, famous Liam, not famous Louis, second chances, marriage, secret relationship)

Louis hadn't seen Liam in three years and seven months.

❤️ Love in Slow Motion by @hkafterdark

(M, 23k, youtuber Louis, marriage proposals, quarter life crisis, best friends Louis/Harry, minor Harry/Nick Grimshaw)

Louis had been proposing to Liam on and off for going on four years now.

❤️ Miss Missing You by harriet_vane

(M, 16k, amnesia au, established relationship, car accident, injured Louis, angst with a happy ending)

Louis wakes up after an accident with a year of memories gone and something not quite right about his relationship with Liam.

❤️ Can I Be What You Like (series) by Phillipa19

(E, 16k, boxing au, boxer Liam, pining, childhood friends, friends to lovers, dirty talk, smut)

With Liam’s rising fame after every fight Louis doesn’t want to be left behind for all the glitz and glamour by the best friend he secretly loves with all his heart.

❤️ in your hands by carissima

(M, 13k, camboy au, camboy Liam, camboy Louis, porn, masturbation)

Liam’s decided to play dress up for this session and has somehow stumbled on Louis’ favourite fantasy. Mechanic Liam, dirty, rough and smelling of cars and sweat, looking ready to mess Louis the fuck up.

❤️ Dust Off Your Highest Hopes by pukeandcry

(T, 13k, high school au, drama kid Louis, jock Liam, homophobia, bullying, kissing)

Louis has a spot, way in the back row of the school theater, the last little aisle of three seats in a row that are tucked up next to the sound booth. 

❤️ I Got the Recipe (And It's Called Black Magic) by @fallinglikethis

(T, 10k, magic, spells/enchantments, humor, hurt/comfort, pranks, pop star Liam, celebrity crush, insecure Louis, magic Liam, implied smut)

Louis needs to believe in love again, and with a little help from Almost-Liam Payne, Harry makes it happen.

❤️ All The Small Things by restless_rebels / @restless-rebels

(NR, 6k, a/b/o, alpha Liam, omega Louis, uni, first meetings, implied smut)

Louis finally looked up, staring at the same boy from the laundry room, his hair dry and soft looking, a short quiff at the top of his head. “Hey, uh, Liam, right?”

❤️ Christmas won't be the same this year by @dearmrsawyer

(G, 7k, neighbors au, Christmas lights, angry Louis)

Liam is a suburban dream. Louis hates him and his Christmas lights.

❤️ The target that I'm aiming at (I'll get that message home) by Mildly_Maddy

(E, 6k, canon, tour, OTRA, canceled Belfast concert, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, smut)

Set on the night of the cancelled Belfast concert. Liam mourns his relationship with Sophia. Louis's not very good at cheering people up (at first).

❤️ strike the match, play it loud by carissima

(T, 5k, canon, tour, oblivious Liam, jealous Louis, cockblock Zayn,

Louis is jealous. Liam is oblivious. Zayn is a terrible cockblock.

❤️ All Dolled Up by checkthemargins

(E, 4k, intercrural sex, lipstick, sap, smut)

Louis is full of good ideas, and lucky enough to have a Liam, who always goes along with them.

❤️ Choo-Choose Me by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(G, 3k, ticket inspector Louis, commuter Liam, trains, meet cute, crushes, kissing)

Liam is a commuter with a crush. Louis is the chirpy ticket inspector who occasionally mans the drinks trolley and sometimes makes announcements, his broad Yorkshire accent fighting the outdated train speakers. 

❤️ Make Your Mark by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 3k, uni au, party, friends to lovers, love bites, lipstick, marking, sexual situation)

When one of Liam's classmates isn't getting the hint that he's not interested, Louis suggests they make him look unavailable.

❤️ Christmas Glitters by @loulovehome

(G, 3k, Christmas, humor, crafts, baking, fluff)

The one where Louis and Liam are in love and make Christmas cards for their neighbors which ends up in the trash can.

❤️ Hesitate by @allwaswell16

(E, 3k, uni au, friends to lovers, break up, getting back together, angst with a happy ending, smut)

A college au where Liam and Louis went from childhood friends to lovers to exes and back again.

❤️ Those Hometown Lights by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(E, 2k, friends to lovers, home from college, zoom, lock down, masturbation)

“Sometimes I can’t tell if I look any different, but I guess those squats are paying off,” Louis says with a laugh.

❤️ still, somehow by @disgruntledkittenface

(NR, 1k, girl direction, hair cut, established relationship, depression)

Louis trims Liam's split ends.

❤️ who's gonna cuddle a zombie? by be_thee_a_fool 

(G, 666 words, meet cute, haunted house, mistaken identity, humor, fluff, Halloween)

Liam accidentally holds Louis' hand at the haunted house