you little diva

Request: Hi could you please write a jack lowden x reader imagine please, a first meeting type thing Thanks


Sometimes you really wondered why you were friends with the people around you. All they ever wanted to do was go out drinking and partying. Sometimes you were able to use work as an excuse to stay home. But other times, like tonight, you didn’t really have a choice in the matter.

Which is why you found yourself walking up to the local pub, Mulligan’s, at midnight with your already drunk friends.

“Ay! Shots all around!” Your buddy, Marcus, cheered as he stumbled up to the bar. The bartender recognized the group, after all they did visit at least twice a week. He immediately got to work making the usual shots, and you fell into conversation with some other locals.

An hour later found you exhaustedly plopping into a seat at the bar, already done with your friends antics. You were so used to being the responsible one of the group, the one who chased their friends around to make sure they didn’t do something too stupid. But tonight you just wanted to get away from it all.

“Ev'rything alright over there?” A soft voice spoke as you rubbed your temples tiredly.

“Just peachy.” You grumbled back, not glancing up towards the stranger.

“Your friends are ahh, quite a handful eh?” The voice spoke again, and you glanced over towards the fellow. Instantly, your eyes connected with a startling blue pair, leaving you breathless.

“You could say tha.” You breathed out, discretely checking him out. Blonde hair, strong facial structure, lean muscles. This man was quite handsome.

“I figured, mine are too.” He said, glancing over at a group of rowdy guys in the corner. When he turned back to you, he had a smile on his face. “Think I can buy you a drink?” He questioned, scooting his stool slightly closer to you.

“I wouldn’t say no to a shot o whiskey.” You told him, a smile forming on your lips finally. He seemed surprised for a moment, before smiling wider.

“A whiskey girl, eh? I like it.” He said, before turning to the bartender. “Hey lad! Can you get me a shot o whiskey for the lass and I?” He questioned, and then turned back to you. “I’m Jack.” He spoke, holding out a hand.

“Y/N.” You responded, taking his hand. He pulled your hand to his lips, pressing a slight kiss to your knuckles.

“Beautiful name.” He whispered as he pulled away, and you felt a blush rising to your cheeks. You breathed a sigh of relief when the bartender came back, taking that time to rid of your blush.

Jack handed you one of the shots, and then held his up for a toast.

“To stupid friends.” He joked, his eyes glistening slightly. You laughed as you clinked your glass against his, then downing it all in one go.


“Aye! Y/N, let’s head to Kevs house! His da’s got some ale.”

That night, when 3am rolled around and the bar closed, it wasn’t you dragging your friends out of the bar for once. You had sat at the bar all night, chatting with the handsome man who for once helped you enjoy being at the pub.

You talked about loads of things; favorite music, books, lifelong dreams. You talked about your dream job, and he in turn told you about being an actor. He told you about his new film, Dunkirk, and you promised him you would go and see it.

You honestly didn’t want to leave the pub, you had enjoyed yourself so much while talking to him. It seemed he felt the same way.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like ta walk miss Y/N home tonight.” He told your friend, before turning to look at you with a wink. “If Y/N here agrees.”

“I’d like tha.” You smiled, taking his offered hand as you both stood up.

“Someone alert the presses! Y/N’s going home with a lad!” Your friend screamed, making you redden instantly. Instantly all your friends began drunkenly cheering, irritating you further.

“Aye you bloody tossers! Shove it.” You started toward them angrily, before Jack tugged you towards the door.

“Don’t worry darlin’, they’re jus havin’ a laugh.” He chuckled as he removed his hand from yours, only to wrap it around your shoulders as you moved out into the chilly night. “Lead the way.”

“You really don’ have ta walk me home. I’m right around the corner.” You told him, but he just shook his head.

“I know, but I wan’ to.” He replied, pulling you closer to his body to keep you warm. “Besides, what kind o gentleman would I be ta let a gorgeous lass like yourself walk home alone.”

“Gentleman? I don’t see any gentlemen around.” You joked, trying to force down yet another blush. Jack let out a wholehearted laugh, squeezing your shoulder.

“Aren’ you just a funny one.” He laughed, letting go of you as you turned up the walkway towards your apartment. You fumbled in your pockets for the key, before pulling it out triumphantly. You turned towards him when you got to the door, a gentle smile on your face.

“Thanks for walking me home, and for makin’ tonight more bearable.” You said, pulling him into a hug.

“For once I’m actually glad my friends are annoyin’, I might’ve never met you otherwise.” He said as he pulled away, placing a kiss to your check as he did so. “I was thinkin’-”

“Well that’s not a good sign.” You cheeked, laughing as he pretended to be offended.

“Fine than, I’ll just leave.” He sighed, turning and taking a step away.

“Alright you little diva.” You laughed, grabbing his arm. “What were you thinkin’?”

“Well, maybe I can take you to lunch tomorrow?” He asked, sounding hopeful.

“I’d like tha.” You responded, smiling when he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Great! So I’ll pick you up at 11:30?” He questioned, beginning to walk away.

“I’ll be waiting.” With that, you disappeared into your apartment, back leaning against the door as you smiled.

Just this once you were happy to have been dragged out of the house by your friends.

Request: Heyyy! I’m absolutely loving your writing, if you get the chance could you write something where you have worked with harry on his solo stuff in the music industry (assistant, manager or whatever) and you have become good friends. he somehow introduces you to some of the dunkirk guys at an awards show or something and one of them (maybe jack or tom gc) takes quite a liking to you oh-la-la… ;)

From the time you were little, you had always wanted to be in the music industry. So when the time for college came, you went for music management. Now you were newly graduated with a job at Erskine Records Ltd.

For the past two years you’d had an internship with Columbia Records. It was there that you met Harry Styles.

When your boss came to you asking for you to work with the young superstar, you instantly agreed. You were sick of working with older artists, and apparently he was sick of working with an old staff. He wanted someone young and new.

The two of you became really close, often having little sleepovers where you’d eat junk food and work on his album in the studio all night. When Harry decided to start his own record label, Erskine, he offered you a job.

You instantly accepted.

Now months later you were working for him and you couldn’t be happier. The two of you had a 5 month prank war going, and neither of you were backing down anytime soon.

Currently you were at the Dunkirk after party, per Harry’s request. You never were one to give up free food and drinks, so of course you came.

Harry had claimed he wanted his ‘best girl’ to be there, but unbeknownst to you he really wanted you to meet his co-star Tom Glynn Carney.

It had all started during filming, Harry wanting to set the two of you up. He was showing some pictures to a few of the boys, when he passed one of you and him together. Tom had instantly been smitten, amusing Harry immensely. When Harry heard you complaining one day about being single, he came up with a plan.

Neither Tom nor you knew about this plan, but Harry was absolutely giddy as he walked towards you with Tom, Jack, Barry and Fionn by his side.

You were talking to a few people by the bar, when arms wrapped around you from behind and lips were pressed to your cheek.

“There she is!” The familiar British voice spoke, causing you to smile.

“It’s about time you got here. It’s not polite to make a lady wait.” You teased, turning around to give your friend a proper hug.

“Sorry love, some of us can’t look as great as you without trying.” Harry spoke, pulling away just as you rolled your eyes.

“It’s really because some of us aren’t little divas.” You joked, poking his dimple. He stuck his tongue out at you, a glint in his eyes.

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Alrigh’ kids, break it up.” A Scottish voice spoke, causing you and Harry to glance at the source. For the first time you noticed four other men standing there, watching the interaction between you and Harry amusedly.

You took in each boy individually, recognizing them from Harry’s videos and pictures he sent to you. The man who had just spoke had blonde hair and blue eyes, add in the Scottish accent and you knew it had to be Jack Lowden.

The boy next to him had dark hair and dark eyes. You’d seen him before in a movie with Colin Farrel, so you knew he was Barry Keoghan.

The next to were boys you’d never seen before on tv or in movies, but you recognized them easy enough. One was Fionn Whitehead, and the other was Tom Glynn Carney.

Your eyes met Tom’s last, and ended up lingering on his for longer than any of the others. He was staring back at you, seemingly in awe. When he smiled at you, you nearly lost your breath. He was startlingly handsome.

“If you’ll excuse me.” You quickly said to the group you had been talking to, linking Harry’s arm in yours and walking away. Once at the other side of the room, you stopped and turned to face the five men. “Thank god you came. They were so boring.”

The men all laughed, amused at your misfortune.

“Are you going to introduce your gorgeous friend Harry? Or are you going to make us do it?” Tom spoke up after a moment, causing you to flush slightly at his compliment.

“I was getting to that!” Harry defended, watching Tom closely with a smirk on his face. “Y/N, these are some of my cast mates from Dunkirk. There’s Jack, Barry, Fionn and Tom. Boys, this is my good friend and Erskine assistant manager Y/N.”

“It’s so nice to meet all of you.” You said, breaking your eye contact with Tom.

“It’s great to meet you too! Harry’s talked about you a lot.” Fionn smiled, the others nodding along with him.

“Good things I hope.” You responded, glancing over at Harry again.

“I’m afraid he didn’t do you quite enough justice. You’re even more beautiful in person.” You were blushing again as you looked at Tom, heart picking up speed ever so slightly.

“Blimey, are you trying to turn me into a tomato? Because it’s working.” You asked, trying to force the blush down.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” He sheugfed, a wide grin on his face as he watched you. The other boys exchanged looks, quickly excusing themselves from the two of you.

You glared at Harry, growing slightly suspicious after he winked at you and quickly dashed away. You looked back at Tom, shuffling awkwardly on your feet for a moment.

“And then there were two.” You told him, causing him to chuckle.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asked, offering his arm to you.

“I wouldn’t mind.” You responded, linking your arm with his and heading towards the bar.

For the next 3 hours the two of you chatted, flirted and drank. You now felt comfortable around him, sharing stories about your childhood and working with Harry.

Tom was ridiculously sweet and funny, never missing an opportunity to compliment you or make you laugh.

By the end of the night you were definitely falling for him. I mean, how could you not?

As the two of you continued to talk, Harry eventually made his way over to you to say goodbye. He shook hands with Tom, before pressing a kiss to your cheek and leaving.

Once he was gone, Tom looked at you with a contemplative look on his face.

“What?” You asked him, taking a sip of your water. You’d stopped drinking 20 minutes ago after starting to feel a slight buzz, knowing your roommate would be coming to get you soon.

“You and Harry are awfully close. Is there anything going on between you two?” Tom asked, leaning on his elbows as he faced you.

“Of course not! Harry’s like a brother to me. And I’m like a sister to him. That’ll never change.” You replied, keeping eye contact with him.

“Good, that’s good for my chances.” You stared at him in confusion, prompting him to continue. “Well, this way when I take you on a date I won’t feel guilty about it.”

“And who says you’re getting a date?” You asked him calmly, though internally you were freaking out. Was he asking you out?

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me that after these past 3 hours you don’t feel the connection too? You can’t say that we wouldn’t be good together.” You were blushing furiously at that point, dipping your head to hide it from him. Just then, your phone ringed, causing you to breath a sigh of relief.

“Hold that thought.” You told him, answering your phone. It was your roommate, telling you she was there to get you.

A few moments later you were hanging up, turning to face Tom once more.

“I’m sorry, but that was my roommate. She’s picking me up.” You explained, gathering your purse and scribbling a few things on a napkin before sliding it towards Tom. “Hopefully we’ll see each other again.” You told him, stretching to place a light kiss on his cheek before walking away.

“Wait a moment! Can’t I at least get your number?” Tom called after you, causing you to glance over your shoulder at him with a grin.

“You already have it. It’s on the napkin.”

Ginger :-)

Just to tell you about the little Diva, lol. Mina doesn’t care if it rains or snow. We went to seat outside on the rain, lol, we almost got wet but at least the terrace has a roof still it’s windy so we got the rain inside the terrace but Mina didn’t care, she ran outside, looked at us and laid on the floor completely wet, lol.  We are quite certain she was an outdoor cat. 

Now it’s raining again quite strongly but it’s nice to breathe fresh air. 

Thank you for the comments: @lillianaprucha, @marauderfan, @susen70.


We heard that you were doing a little diva stuff and just didn’t want to talk to us. Is that true?

Morgan:  I can’t believe the way words leak around here. Is that the director that told you that? Because if it was then it’s true. No, I was going to have lunch with you, but my dog came out and crapped in front of everybody so I had to go clean it up.

What is the story on this dog? You saved a dog while you were here?

Morgan:  I did. The first week of filming. He was hanging around basecamp and was just a pup. He was maybe four months old and somebody hit it. They were like, “We have to put this dog down” and, instead, I paid the vet bill. There are so many strays. They’re everywhere.

What’s his name?

Morgan:  His name is Bandit. Or Bandito while we’re here.

So this is a permanent addition to your life?

Morgan:  I think it is. Well, yeah. After paying the $4,000 vet bill, he better learn to be my good dog now. Because he’s not very good at this point.

Collider interview with Jeffrey on the set of “The Losers”

How Bts would be as dads


A/N: Sorry this took so long! My health is a little better so i finished this up. Hope you like it 


  • He always tries to be careful because he’s super clumsy 
  • but it doesn’t always work out o.0
  • Cause he’ll all of a sudden want to teach his kid some wicked dance move and end up breaking a window or something
  • Super supportive of whatever they wanted to do 
  • Makes terrible dad jokes 
  • Tries to be a tough guy but is also the first to arrive at the tea party 
  • He would more than likely accidentally swear in front of your child 
  • Then your kid would repeat it later on with all of you in the room 

(Y/N:) “Namjoon where did he learn that word?” 

(N:) “Ummm Yoongi?” 

Keep reading

Number 9

Prompt: the reader and Liam get into an argument that leads to them not talking for a few days. At a lacrosse game against Devenford Prep, Brett flirts with the reader and Liam gets jealous.

Warnings: paints Brett in a bad light (sorry Brett) and the reader bitch slaps Liam

“You can’t be serious right now. I mean, do you hear yourself?”

           Liam’s face was bright red; the veins in his neck were sticking out. Breathing heavily, he checked our surroundings, making sure there were no stragglers in the school hallways trying to get a scoop of drama. “Of course I’m serious right now. I saw it with my own eyes, Y/N. Don’t you dare lie to me.”

           Scoffing, I shoved my books into my locker. “You’re freaking insane. There’s no way in hell that I like Brett. I’m with you- despite the big ugly green monster you’re harboring right now.”

           Raising his eyebrows, Liam propped himself on his shoulder against the lockers. “I think I have a right to get pissed off when I hear my girlfriend talking to her friends about someone who’s pretty much my enemy.”

           “You’re totally misinterpreting the conversation!” I slammed my locker shut. “All she asked was what I thought of Brett. I said that he’s funny but you don’t like him.”

           “Oh, so what you’re saying is that if I did like him you’d hang around him more?”

           “That’s not what I was saying at all!” I fought to keep my voice level when really I wanted to scream out of frustration. “Why does it matter to you so much? I’m not cheating on you or anything!”

           Liam shoved himself off the lockers. His jaw was clenched. “How can I be sure of that?” When I just glared at him, he dropped the bomb. “I think we should take a break.”

           I jerked back as if he had hit me. “What?”

           “Why does it matter to you so much?” Liam asked in a falsetto voice. Then he cleared his throat and stared at the ground, muttering, “I mean, this will give you a chance to make your relationship with Brett public.”

           Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. Gasping, I managed to state, “I am not cheating on you. I’m not, and I never have, and I never will. Especially not with him.”

           Liam rolled his eyes. “Sticking to the same story, huh? Fine. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

           Watching him walk away with an angry bounce to his steps, I whispered, “Liam…” But he forced the doors open and was gone.


The following week after that crushing discussion in the hallway on Monday was the worst of my life. Maybe that was a little dramatic, but it felt true. Liam refused to talk to me.

           My first attempt was the very next day, Tuesday. He hadn’t picked up his phone the night before, and I was worried about him. When I spotted him in the cafeteria with Scott, I rushed over as quickly as I could, plopping down in the seat in front of him, winded, “Liam, I-”

           He got up. And he walked away.

           I stared at the spot he had been in, confused. Did he really just…?

           Scott gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry Y/N; I don’t think he really wants to talk to anyone right now.”

           “Okay.” I said in a small voice. “That’s fine.”

           “Hey, so, are you coming to the game Friday night?” Scott was suddenly leaning closer to me, an excited spark lighting up his dark eyes. “We’re playing Devenford Prep again.”

           Biting my lip, I thought it over. “Sure. I’d love to come watch you guys play.”


My second attempt was Wednesday after school. I was dying to hear his voice. Liam was standing with Mason in the parking lot, chatting casually. As soon as I approached them, Liam nodded to Mason, spun on his heel, and left.

           Mason gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Ouch.”

           “Eh,” I shrugged. “He did that yesterday, too. I guess I should’ve expected it.”

           “Still… he told me you guys broke up…”

           “Did he tell you the reason why?” I asked, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. When Mason nodded, I pressed further. “Do you believe him?” This time he shook his head. Shocked, I questioned, “What? You don’t?”

           Mason laughed. “You’re not sneaky enough to cheat on someone, Y/N.  No offense. And you can barely handle Liam as it is, so I don’t have a clue how you would juggle two guys.” I giggled. Then we sobered up. “No, but seriously, I think Liam’s over-reacting. He’ll come crawling back to you in a week tops.”

           I brightened. “Really? You think so?”

           He smirked. “Yep. It’ll go something like this,” Mason screwed up his face and made a voice that sounded oddly like Barbie’s Ken. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry I saw you talking with your friends and decided to eavesdrop and that assumed that you were cheating on me with that sort-of attractive asshole-ish giant. Please forgive me.”

           Laughing, I shoved Mason’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll sound just like that.”

           “He will, trust me.” Mason’s face lit up. “Are you gonna come to the game Friday?”

           “We’re playing Devenford Prep, right?” When he nodded excitedly, I laughed. “Yeah, I’ll come. Scott asked me to yesterday as well.”

           “Of course he did. Beacon Hills wouldn’t last a game without its two best cheerleaders, Mason and Y/N.”


My third and final attempt was Thursday morning in the hallway. Liam was ranting to Stiles about something. I made eye-contact with Stiles, and he murmured something to Liam who then promptly took off for the boys’ bathroom.  

           Did he just warn Liam that I was coming?

           Angrily, I stalked over to Stiles. His eyes narrowed as I placed my hand on my hip. “Sorry, I try not to fraternize with cheaters.” My mouth dropped open. He didn’t really pay me any mind, just turned to dig through his locker.

           Suddenly filled with confidence, I slammed his locker shut, nearly getting his hand caught in there. Not that I would’ve fretted over it too much if he was going to be acting this way. “Listen, Stilinski,” I growled. “I don’t know what kind of crap Liam is spoon-feeding you, but I didn’t cheat on him. At all. Ever. I love that egghead too much, and I’d really appreciate it if you stayed out of our relationship.”

           Stiles rolled his eyes. “No one believes him because they’re all beyond convinced that you’re a little angel who would never do that to him. But I see you, you little diva. You-”

           “I was talking to my friends and they asked me about Brett. I said and I quote, ‘He’s funny, but Liam doesn’t like him.’ Liam was eavesdropping and heard that. He blew it out of proportion and broke up with me.”

           He blinked. Awkwardly, Stiles scratched the back of his head. “Oh…”

           Holding out my arms, I asked, “What?”

           “He never said anything about that. He just said that you cheated on him.” Stiles shifted his weight. “This sounds more likely. He’s always been a dramatic, jealous diva, you know what I’m saying?”

           I rolled my eyes. “What’s with you and the word ‘diva’ today?”

           “It’s kind of a long story. Malia and I were playing around, and… you don’t care.” Stiles rubbed his neck. I knew apologizing wasn’t really his style, so I didn’t expect one. “Hey, are you coming Friday night?”

           I nodded. “Scott and Mason beat you to asking me. Devenford Prep vs Beacon Hills. I’m sure it’s going to be one for the record books.”


By the time Friday night rolled around, I was both sad and pissed that Liam still wouldn’t talk to me. I found it childish and ridiculous. If this was how things were going to be, I was going to have to kill him.

           The bleachers were packed with screaming high schoolers, all eagerly awaiting the start of the game. Mason bumped me with his hip. “We better get up there before all the good seats are taken.” He teased.

           “Actually, I was thinking of sitting behind the guys.” I gestured to where I had left my backpack- bottom row, last spot on the right.

           He pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah, that would work too. I like that idea better. Not as much climbing involved.”

           Scott slung an arm over my shoulder. “Glad that you could make it.” He pecked my cheek before Coach called him over. Stiles patted my head awkwardly, making me laugh. I watched as the sea of maroon invaded the field, starting their warm-up.

           As I scanned the numbers, I noticed that I couldn’t seem to find my 9 anywhere. There was 11, 24, and even 15. No 9. “You see Liam anywhere?”

           Mason looked around. “No. You?” I shook my head. “I wonder where he’s at. Bathroom maybe?”

           “Eh… Liam’s not really one to get nervous about stuff, you know?”

           He snorted. “I wasn’t saying that it was because of nerves. Maybe he ate a bad burrito or something. Explosive diarrhea all over the stall.”

           “Gross!” I smacked his arm while he laughed. “I’d rather not think about that, if you don’t mind.” A shadow loomed over us. Glancing up, I saw that it was the cause of all our problems at the moment.

           I forced a smile onto my face. “Hey Brett. How’s it going?”

           Brett smirked. He was dressed in green. For some reason, he reminded me of the Slytherin house in the Harry Potter series. “I’m alright. About to cream you guys.”

           Mason snorted from beside me. “Yeah, alright. We’ll see about that.”

           Snickering, Brett placed his hand on the bleacher’s railing so he could lean down closer to me. “And how are you doing, little lady?”

           Casually, I scooted closer to Mason. “I’d say I’m doing fine. Real excited for the game.”

           He licked over his lips. “That color looks good on you.” His hand softly brushed the fabric covering my shoulder. “Compliments your eyes.”

           Uneasily, I laughed. Mason swooped in for the kill. “Yeah, her boyfriend thinks so too.” He draped his arm over my shoulder, causing Brett to remove his hand.

           “Boyfriend?” Brett raised an eyebrow. “I thought you swung for the other team, Mason?”

           “I was talking about Liam.” He glared. Then he craned his neck around, looking towards the gym doors. “And here he is now.”

           Breath catching in my throat, I peered around Brett’s tall form to see a maroon jersey jogging over to us. To my great disappointment, he went right past us, going over to Coach. “I guess I’ll have to take Dunbar’s good luck kiss, since he doesn’t seem to want it right now.” Even from here, I could see how Liam’s back went rigid. He could hear everything that we were saying.

           Mason laughed bitterly. “If you do that, you’ll get your ass kicked.”

           Brett chuckled. “Don’t take everything so seriously. I’m just playing around with a pretty girl.” Blushing from embarrassment, I lowered my head. This was so awkward. It was making me extremely uncomfortable.

           Clearing my throat, I stood up. “I, um, I have to go to the bathroom. Excuse me.” As I tried to leave, Brett grabbed my arm.

           “Don’t I get a hug?”  I blanched. “By the time you get back, I’ll probably already be on the field.”

           I felt like I was trapped. If I said no, I would look like a total bitch. If I said yes, I would be letting him invade my personal space when I was already beyond apprehensive. Either way it would screw me over.

           Mason was an angel. He stood too, and held out his arms. “How about I give you a hug and Y/N goes to the bathroom?” I didn’t wait to hear his response. I was already walking as fast as I could for the restroom, fighting the urge to run.


Brett had been right- by the time I got back, the game was well under way. Green and maroon clashed as I sat beside Mason. “Thanks for that.” I mumbled, nudging his shoulder with mine.

           “Anytime, Y/N.” He looked away from the field to look at me with serious dark eyes. “You looked terrified.”

           “I don’t know what my problem was. It just really weirded me out is all, I guess.”

           The sound of a whistle blowing had us both jumping. There was a crowd in the center of the field, yelling and acting like a bunch of fools. I saw Coach in the middle of the mix. Then, suddenly, Scott and Stiles were holding a furious Liam, tugging him away from the circle.

           “Dunbar! McCall! Stilinski!” Coach was roaring, waving his arms and clipboard around. The trio ignored him, stumbling back towards the school and through the doors, disappearing from sight. Mason and I exchanged a look.

           “You go check on Liam, and I’ll talk to Coach?” Mason proposed.

           “Sounds like a plan.” I agreed, and then we split.


This was starting to become stereotypical- well, I thought so anyway. Liam would get pissed during a lacrosse game, leaving Scott and Stiles to drag him off and calm him down. It was almost predictable. Then again, lacrosse was a very intense game, and Liam had I.E.D.. Being a werewolf didn’t help any of that at all. I tried to keep that in mind when I burst through the doors to see the three-man dog pile.

           “Scott, we’ve got to get him into the locker room!” Stiles yelped as Liam thrashed beneath them.

           “Don’t you think I know that?” Scott growled. “He’s putting up too much of a fight… Y/N, what the hell are you doing here?”

           “I saw what was going on and figured I could help.”

           Stiles groaned.  “No offense, but I don’t think you can handle this.” Suddenly he was flying, crashing to the floor several feet away. Scott grappled onto Liam’s shoulders, but he was shoved aside.

           It all happened very fast. Liam had me by my throat, eyes blazing, teeth mashing together. I have no idea what came over me. I was just mad: mad that he had broken up with me, mad that he wouldn’t talk to me, mad that Brett had flirted with me.

           So I slapped him across the face as hard as I could muster.

           That was all it took. Liam’s yellow eyes faded to a soft blue; his lips parted as he dropped his hand, staggering backward.

           “Yeah, that’s right. Back up because I feel like hitting you again, you son of a bitch.” Scott and Stiles watched from their positions on the floor with wide eyes. Liam gulped. “Do you have any idea- no, that’s a dumb thing to say. Of course you don’t know. So let me educate you on what the past week has been like for me.

           “My first love dumps me because he eavesdropped on a conversation I was having with my friends and blows it out of freaking proportion, accusing me of cheating on him. Then he proceeds to act like a five year old and not talk to me, telling all his friends what a dirty cheater I am. To top it all off, he listens to a guy hit on me and make me uncomfortable, acting like it isn’t affecting him, but then he tries to kill the guy on the field. And then, when I come to check on him, he has the nerve to put his hand around my throat? No. I will whoop your werewolf ass right here, right now. I don’t care. Fight me, bitch.” My finger prods his chest for emphasis.

           Liam gaped. He looked like a fish out of water. Stiles was laughing softly in the background with Scott whisper-yelling at him to please shut up because it’s not that funny.

           “What?” I threw my arms out. “Don’t have anything to say? Gossiped it all away to Stiles, did you?”

           “No,” He mumbled.

           “Then what is it?”

           Liam ran his fingers through his hair, cheeks flaming. “I’m sorry.”

           I scoffed. “You’re sorry? That’s all you have to say? Sorry?” I’ll admit, I was acting like a bitch, but I was so damn mad at him. I felt like I couldn’t control myself. Besides, a small part of me thought that I was reacting just fine, that he deserved it.

           “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you, that I got jealous, that I broke up with you. I’m so freaking sorry Y/N. I was sorry the second I suggested breaking up, even more so when I saw the look on your face. And I hated myself when I walked out those doors and left you alone. I hated myself so damn much.”

           Scott and Stiles slipped out the doors behind us. I barely noticed. I was too busy watching Liam sweat. “Then why did you do it?” I raised an eyebrow.

           He flushed. “I told you; I was jealous.”

           “Of what? All I said was that he was funny. I clarified that you didn’t like him- something you continue to neglect.”

           “Yeah, okay, I’m an idiot, alright? I know. But when you said that… I mean, Brett’s tall, and I’ve been told that he’s attractive, and you think he’s funny. Plus he’s popular back at Devenford Prep. Like, everybody wants him. So when I heard you talking about him… I thought that you might want him a little, too.”

           I was shaking my head before he had even finished his sentence. “No, Liam. I want you. I’ve always wanted you, and I always will.”

           Liam looked down at his feet in utter confusion. “That’s hard for me to believe though. It doesn’t make sense to me, someone like you somehow being with me. You’re so… perfect, and I’m so… me.” I couldn’t help it. I laughed. His head came up to stare at me with disbelieving eyes. “Why are you laughing?” He asked warily.

           “Because you’re my definition of perfect. You don’t see yourself as other people do, Liam. You see someone with a disorder who became a monster. I see a strong, brave guy who has his problems and takes them in stride. You deal with them, and you move on. I really admire you for that, you know.” I stepped closer to him resting my chin against his chest. “And for the record, I find you tall. Don’t forget that. And you’re incredibly handsome- sometimes I forget where I am or what I’m saying because I get lost in your eyes. Plus, you’re hilarious. Remember that time you made me laugh so hard I peed?”

           “You mean that time I sarcastically danced like a cowboy?”

           Giggling, I squealed, “Yes! I still have it saved on my phone.” Once I had calmed down, I rubbed his arm. “And as far as popularity goes, I’m glad that you’re kind-of sort-of on the down-low. It helps keep this werewolf thing under the radar. Plus, it’d be a damn Hunger Games trying to keep girls away from you- which it already kind of is.”

           “Not true.”

           “Very true, actually. You just don’t see it. For someone with enhanced abilities, you sure are oblivious to a lot of things.”

           “Okay, now you’re just blowing sunshine up my butt.” Liam beamed as he rolled his eyes. I shook my head, “No, I’m not. I’m telling the truth. You’re perfect to me; you’re my everything.”

           Liam blushed. “I love you Y/N.”

           I smirked. “Not as much as I love you.”

           He rolled his eyes. “I highly doubt that.” Then he furrowed his eyebrows. “Does this mean we’re back together?”

           “I don’t know; do you want us to be back together?”


           “Well, then, I guess we’re back together.”

           Liam leaned down to kiss me softly. When he pulled away, he sighed happily. “Okay, now it’s time for me to go and kick Brett’s ass for flirting with my girl.”

           I cocked my head to the side. “I thought you already did that?”

           “Oh, no. That was because he asked me if I knew if Mason was free after the game.”

things that my band director has said/done
  • “there’s socks on the floor” “are they bothering you?” “” “just ignore them”
  • “you guys sound like *lOUD SCREECHING*”
  • “listen up trumpets, you little divas”
  • *scoffs* “that sounds like a trumpet player”
  • “nOOOOOOO of course you can”
  • “i will surely… die? what are these lyrics”
  • “mr [name] i hate the trumpets” “i do too… i do too.” *lOUD GASPS FROM THE TRUMPETS*
  • danced furiously to the cupid shuffle at a pep rally
  • “i feel a test coming up”
  • *almost falls off of box* “wOAH”
  • his stand broke in the middle of him talking to us and he yelled amen
  • “breaking your horn? yeah. breaking your phone? sure. not practicing? woah mama. but wrecking your car? eh.”
  • “hey [name] go the office” “me?” “nah the other [name] sitting over there playing the alto”

kimheenim:someone is giving me bad vibes since the past i deactivated my facebook account already..when lee donghae got hacked,i made fun of him saying “your password is that easy that’s why you got hacked,stupid ㅋㅋㅋㅋ ” but…auntie ~add the king of stupid here!!since i am not me from my younger days..i won’t curse anymore!!shaking…my LOL account got hacked too..shaking ..#pleaserecommendmeadifficultpassword ㅅㅈㄴㄷ늗ᆞ짓ㄱㅈㅂㅊㅁㄷ@-:^□ cant tag the kids (members)!!kanginie is kanginnim,donghae is leedonghae1015,gunhee is gunheenim ,hyukjae is that right?? 

Heechul commented on his photo: Yah. What are the kids’ IDs? (members)

Leeteul left a comment on heechul’s IG:I am special_JS1004 (c)

Sick Babies

This was requested by someone–and for the life of me I can’t find your ask, so I’m going to assume you were anonymous. I hope you like it and enjoy! <3 :)

( companionintime I know you’ll really like this one too! <3 )


Zayn was stubborn. Of course. He never wanted to admit he was sick. So he wouldn’t. And of course, after you fussed over him two or three times–and were promptly denied by your stubborn little love, you gave up.

You looked up at him. He was heading out the door to go to the studio…barely. His body looked as if he was going to collapse at any moment. You stared at him from the couch. Today you had taken the day off because “you needed to grade papers,” that’s what Zayn thought anyway. but in actuality you were banking on a phone call from one of the boys to come get your sick little angel.

“You feel well enough to go?” You asked.

“I’m not sick,” he grumbled bitterly with an eye roll at you as he packed a bag o the snacks and his things he needed for a day at the studio.

You nodded knowingly. “Oh, right; you’re not sick,” you responded simply. “I mean, you just look tired,” you muttered not looking directly in his eyes. You knew he would argue.

“Erm, yeah…” he held in a cough. His pretty hazel eyes were red–raw from rubbing them and watery from the coughing fit Zayn had into his pillow while you were in the kitchen. He thought he was being sneaky. But no. “Well, I think we’re ending early today,” he mumbled in exhaustion.

The poor thing was sick as a dog. He just didn’t want to believe it. “Alright, well, tell them if you need a nap…or a ride,” you mumbled at the end.

He leaned over the couch and kissed you on the forehead. “I love you,” he said simply.

“I love you, too Zaynie,” you grinned up at him. “Text me if you get hungry…” you trailed off. He knew what you meant. And that’s why you were the best thing for him. You handled his stubborness when he didn’t deserve your kindness. “Or if you’re really tired…” you suggested.

He nodded simply and headed to his car only feeling slightly dizzy. He was glad he didn’t have to drive. As soon as you heard the car leave the street you began preparing a nest for the inevitable call to come get your sweet, sick boyfriend. You gathered blankets, a few pillows, a couple different medicines, some drinks and you got the soup ready to make.

You quickly cleaned the flat–just light dusting and vacuuming–so it wouldn’t have extra germs to make him sicker and you placed his favorite book and three different movies on the coffee table.

Just about noontime your phone buzzed with a call from Liam. You couldn’t have predicted it more perfectly. “Hi, Liam,” you said sweetly.

“Hi, darling,” he answered with a smirk. He knew you knew Zayn was sick. “Can you come get him?” He asked. “He’s really under the weather,” he told you.

“No!” You gasped in mock-shock.

He chuckled into the phone. “I know!” He answered.

You giggled. “Of course, Liam, be right there.”


You walked into the studio and you smiled at the boys before you crouched down beside the black-haired baby lying sickly on the sofa in the room. “Hi, sweetheart,” you whispered and pushed his thick hair back and pressed a kiss to his warm forehead. Your hand ran over his forehead feeling the fever that was settling into his body. “How do you feel baby?” You whispered.

“Not so good, bird,” he mumbled and then coughed into his shoulder.

You frowned sadly. “Would you like to go home, sweet?” You asked softly.

He nodded slowly and you gently pulled him up to a seated position and his head felt so heavy. “Li, can you help me?” You asked.

Liam grabbed Zayn around the waist and tugged him out to the car. “Make sure you thank your girl, Zayn,” Liam winked at you. You smirked as Liam settled him in the front seat. He nodded sleepily and his eyes shut as soon as Liam shut the door. Zayn was half asleep while you drove him back home.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you whispered. “We’re home,” you said nudging him out of the seat and supporting his weight as you guided him to his nest on the couch.

“When did you do this?” He asked.

“When you were stupidly at work,” you said softly as you wrapped him, fed him medicine and kissed his forehead.

“I know, bird,” he smiled gently, sickly. “I’m an idiot. I know,” he sighed softly. “Thank you for doing everything perfectly,” he mumbled sleepily.

“How about you rest, sweet,” you said softly. “And I’ll make you some soup, okay?” You asked and pressed another soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Wait,” he said as you pulled from him. He wrapped his arms around your back tightly and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“Thank you, bird,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I’m an idiot about being sick.”

“It’s fine, baby,” you replied softly scratching his T-shirt in the back with gentle motions. “I love you tons,” you whispered.

“I love you too,” he answered. He sighed heavily. “You’re perfect.”

You giggled. “Go to sleep, sweet,” you whispered.

And he did just that.


“Babe, he’s being obnoxious,” Niall told you over the phone.

“Why? Did you tell him he looked short again?” You bit your lip as you listened to Niall while cleaning the dishes. Niall laughed his loud obnoxious laugh and you giggled.

“No, I learned the last time. You throw hard punches, darlin’,” he snickered at you.

You smirked. “What’s wrong, Ni?”

“His nose is gushing like a faucet. And he’s being so whiny,” he muttered.

“I AM NOT!” You heard Louis’ scratchy throat yell to through the phone. You snickered at the poor thing.

“I’ll be right there,” you promised softly.

“Thank you, princess,” he said just as quietly.

“Babe, I’m totally fine,” but then he sneezed six times. “Don’t you dare come get me!” He ordered.

“I won’t,” you said simply, lying easily.

When you arrived at the studio, Louis was laying on the couch and he was sniffling a ton. Harry was making him tea and he sighed with relief when you arrived. “Thank God,” he muttered. Louis was actually obnoxious when he was sick. He was so needy and contradicting it drove you up a wall. And everyone else… “I told you not to come,” he grumbled as he sipped his tea bitterly.

You rolled your eyes. “Do you wanna go home?” You asked.

“No!” He said childishly.

“Fine, I’ll see you when you get home,” you shrugged and walked toward the door.

“Wait!” He called. “Take me home, please,” he mumbled and got off the couch and wrapped himself around you. You giggled as the boys all smiled. Only you could put up with him. And they were grateful that you did.


“Feed me,” he said. His nose was completely blocked so his accent sounded a hundred times cuter. You rolled your eyes as you brought the soup to his lips.

He spit it out into the bowl. You rolled your eyes. “It’s too hot!” He whined.

“Alright, stop,” you told him setting the soup down. “When you wanna act like an adult, I’ll come take care of you,” you said getting up from his bedside.

“Wait! Don’t leave me!” He crooned. You rolled your eyes again.

“Louis, stop it,” you grumbled leaving your shared room. He whined more and you just ignored him as you started folding laundry in the living room. You were humming to the music coming from your radio. Louis came sniffling down the hall. His footsteps were small and he was so needy it was unreal.

“Baby?” He whispered softly. You looked up at the entry way and pressed your lips together because he looked ridiculous. He was wrapped in the comforter and looked like a little sick Eskimo.

“What’s wrong, Lou?” You asked softly.

“I don’t feel well, and I want a cuddle,” he whined again.

“Will you at least pretend to be an adult?” You wondered. He shook his head. You giggled and opened your arms anyway. He grinned softly and laid on the couch and rested his head in your lap. You ran your fingers over his face. You smiled at his tanned, blushed cheeks from his cold. Pushing his hair off his face he closed his eyes.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” he said quietly. “I know I’m a lot of work,” he muttered and nuzzled your  tummy. 

“You’re fine, baby,” you said gently massaging his scalp with your fingertips. “You’re just my sick little diva,” you whispered sweetly and pressed a kiss on his warm forehead.

He grinned sweetly, warmly, cutely. “Thank you,” he said gently and cuddled against you again. “I like being your diva,” he said sleepily.

You giggled as your feathery brown haired angel drifted off to sleep.


The thing about migraines is that they have no sense of time. They come at the worst possible moments even if you’re in the middle of doing something. Today it was amidst Liam singing with the other boys. The light, the sound, and then his voice just broke. His head began to pound and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He sank to the ground after a few moments yanking the headphones off his head and curling up in a ball trying not to move. Everything was painful.

“Li?” Niall asked.

“Stop screaming,” he whispered. His head felt awful, like knives were slowly slicing their way through his temples.

Zayn grabbed Liam’s phone and quickly called you. You were at work. You were just cleaning the shop windows of the bakery you owned making some cupcakes. “Hi, Li, how’s work?”

“Not so good,” Zayn answered. “He just crumbled to the ground…he’s clutching his head.”

You shut the oven off and shut off the lights hurrying around the room grabbing the keys and your coat. “I’m on my way. Put some of those noise canceling headphones on him?” You asked. “Thank you Zayn.”

You hurried to the studio and looked at Liam curled on the floor trying to keep his brain from sliding out of his ears. The poor thing was in so much pain. You knelt down beside him and pressed your hand to his back. You gently rested a hand on Liam’s forehead. He peeled one eye open and sighed with marginal relief at the look of you. “Hi baby,” you mouthed to him. He mustered the weakest grin he’d ever given and you frowned sadly. “Thank you,” you said to the boys. You gently pulled on Liam to get him to stand and bring him to the car.

He kept his head between his knees as you drove and you softly ran your fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. When you arrived at home you pulled Liam’s headphones off. You pressed your lips against his forehead.

His eyebrows wrinkled together and he moaned almost softly. You frowned and went around to his door to help him out. You rubbed his back as you brought him up to your shared flat. It hurt to walk, to stand…hell, it just about hurt to breathe.

You put him on your bed shutting the blinds and turning off the lights. It was almost completely dark in the room, save for the nightlight you had, just for these situations. In the kitchen, you grabbed pain pills and brought a tray of three tall glasses of water. You handed them to Liam and then you went to the bathroom to get a cold wash cloth for his forehead. When he was snuggled into the bed and sheets you climbed in beside him and pulled him toward you. His head found your shoulder. Even though he was laying on you, his legs stretched past your toes and he tangled your legs together. “Thank you,” he whispered so softly it was heartbreaking to here.

“Of course, sweet,” you said and carefully threaded your fingers into his short little hairs on his head and then massaged your fingertips into his scalp. He groaned softly, happily.

“Feels s’good,” he slurred.

“Sleep, baby,” you ordered.

“I love you,” he sighed and drifted right to sleep.

“I love you, too,” you whispered and kept your sick little love close to you as he dreamed.


“Love, phone call,” the receptionist told you. You tilted your head wondering who could possibly be calling you in the middle of work. You were almost never called.

“Hello?” You said tentatively.

“Hey, Princess,” Harry smiled gently into the phone. “I’m sorry to bother you, but…he’s being so whiny and sick and I didn’t know what to do…he doesn’t want anyone but you,” he said softly.

You blushed, grateful Harry couldn’t see you. “Really?” You mumbled.

“I know it’s a lot to ask because he’s a dickhead,” Harry said softly. “But can you please come get him? He’s got an awful cough and throat thing going on,” he said quietly. “He doesn’t know I called you,” he murmured.

“I don’t know, Harry, can’t you call–”

“Sweetheart, I know what he did was wrong and stupid…but we…” he sighed. “Please,” he murmured.

You sighed. “I’ll be right there,” you mumbled and packed your briefcase and told your boss you had an emergency. You drove to the studio, familiar with the protocol. You figured there would be a hassle, however. But the receptionist looked at you with a smile and simply said you were listed as Niall’s emergency contact.

You blinked in surprise and then walked down the hall.

You heard a cough that sounded so achy and broken it was so sad to hear. You opened the studio door. “Hey,” you said gently.

Niall coughed and his blue eyes watered from the force as he looked at you. “I heard you need a ride home,” you told him. He looked at the four others and they all smirked and he sighed softly, and then he coughed some more.

“He hasn’t talked much, every time he goes to, he coughs a ton,” Louis explained. You bit your lip and crouched down in front of him on the sofa. He gazed into your eyes in amazement. You were here for him. You placed your hands under his jaw and gently felt around. He winced at the pain.

His glands were swollen and then you looked at his eyes. “Do you have laryngitis, Niall?” You asked. You had been with him through it once before. He always pushes it when his throat starts to hurt. He blushed a bit. “Did you pretend not to…and make it worse?” He bit his lip and nodded.

“Ni,” Zayn sighed.

Niall smiled sheepishly.

You rolled your eyes and helped Niall out to your car. He was drowsy and sick so you drove him back home. He didn’t talk. You didn’t either. He bit his lip. “I don’t mind picking you up,” you said softly. He turned to look at you. His eyes were apologetic as you pulled up to his apartment building.

You looked away quickly. “Well, I’ll…get you settled,” you suggested getting out of the car and walking up the steps. He followed behind, slowly. He was kind of happy that you could read his mind and could talk to him without speaking. It was nice. I made him happy, but it also made him miss you more. It was his fault and that’s why you ignored his gaze when he looked at you. You knew what he was saying.

And sadly, he knew you were scared of him. Scared of him to get hurt again because he was so reckless with your heart. You were up and down and all over the place with him and he never stopped to think about how…scary that was with you.

You nudged him down onto the couch and grabbed tea, made soup, and gave him medicine that would knock him out and make his throat better.

But he wouldn’t take it. “Niall, seriously, take it, or you’re not going to get better,” you told him. He shook his head knocking the medicine away and onto his floor.

“Are you kidding me?! How old are you Niall?” He asked.

He rolled his eyes and stared at you until you poured more. He grabbed the bottle and brought it back to the kitchen. You grabbed your purse and stormed toward the door. Niall ran in front of you and blocked your path. “Niall, move,” you snapped.

He didn’t move. He waited. Your throat got tight, not with sickness, with sadness. Tears brimmed in your eyes. “What? Are you going to tell me I’m clingy? And that if I can’t handle you running all around the world I should just get lost?” You asked. You repeated the same words Niall last said to you. Niall felt sick. “Because I’m gone,” you promised and reached for the door handle beneath his arm. “Totally gone,” you sniffled and pushed against him.

He bit his lip and wrapped his arms around your waist twisting so you were pressed to the door and he rested his face in your neck. He squeezed you still in efforts to keep you from leaving. He inhaled softly and then turned his face away from you coughing lightly. You were crying. He just held you and snuggled into you. He was lightheaded and sick, but he had to pull himself together to get his body language to explain you weren’t leaving. You were sinking to the floor and Niall followed you down and he pulled you into his lap. You were going to get sick, you accepted your fate…but if Niall was going to hold you like this, one last time, it was worth it.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked. His voice was gravelly, like a thirty-year smoker. It stung and burned to speak, but he regretted what he said to you so much, so he’d talk anyway. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “I…” he coughed and swallowed around the sick lump in his throat.

“You,” you sniffled and hiccuped. You couldn’t hear it. If you did, you’d fall for him again. His stupid Irish, sickly accent. “You need to stop talking,” you told him and pushed from him. “Go lay on the couch, you need medicine, will you please fucking take it so I can leave?” You asked bitterly.

He knew he should have said yes. You were too good for him. He was an idiot. He was rude to you. He was just awful to you and you didn’t deserve that. But he was selfish. So he shook his head no. You let more tears of frustration and embarrassment slide down your cheeks. “Niall, I really don’t want to do deal with your fucking games right now,” you sniffled. He cupped your face and rubbed his thumbs soothingly beneath your eyes. He knew you loved when he did that. You told him no one ever held you like he did. No one ever cared if you cried or took care of you when you were sad.

But he cared. He kissed your nose and then pulled you into his chest. “Stay,” he whispered in his creaky voice. You sniffled and nodded against him holding yourself closer to him. Despite how much he hurt you, you loved him and you could tell he regretted it. You two could talk without words and he just refused to let you go.

“Will you take your medicine now?” You asked.

He nodded. “Just stay,” he begged. “I’ll make it up to you when I’m better.”

“Stop talking,” you ordered.

He grinned, pretending to zip his lips and you smiled softly at the blond haired boy and shook your head. You were still cautious of him…but you did believe him. Once he was better, you knew he would start making it up to you.


Louis watched as Harry emptied his stomach contents into the bucket they laid beside the sofa where Harry had taken residence on. He looked green. Like an actual frog as his fans suggested…but his cheeks were flushed red.

Louis knew you were at work, and he also knew that Harry didn’t want to bother you at work. But he was sick as a dog and Niall couldn’t stomach the sound of vomiting so they needed to get Harry home, soon. Liam was tending to Niall to make sure he was okay. Zayn was tying Harry’s hair back while Louis snuck out of the room to call you.

“Hello?” You asked.

“I know the last thing you wanna do is deal with a six foot tall kid vomiting all over you when you get out of work, but he’s really sick.”

“Harry’s sick?” You questioned. “How come?” You asked.

“I don’t know, he came to work and he looked ill and then he started puking everywhere,” Louis explained. You sighed putting down the chart you were carrying. You looked at the time. You would be done in an hour, but you figured you should go now. Harry hated when he made you leave early for him.

You left for events and when he was sick and sometimes when he was home, he just wanted you to take the day off and be around him. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” you told him and hung up your phone passing the chart off to another nurse.

“All you do is play with sick children,” your colleague laughed softly. You sighed and shook your head with a smirk as you headed back to your car.

The thing about Harry was he hated throwing up. It made him feel weak and gross and he hated it. He was almost in tears because he couldn’t stop throwing up and he was almost at the point of hyperventilation from nerves and vomiting. But then you were in the studio room and you were pushing his sweaty brown locks that Zayn missed away from his face. You ignored the vomit. You acted as if he wasn’t even puking it as you talk to him. “Hi, baby,” you whispered sadly. “Let’s go home, yeah?” You asked and tried to help him stand. But his stomach rolled and he vomited again into the bucket. He groaned and you frowned as you felt his flushed face. “Poor thing,” you said soothingly. “Can I have another bucket?” You asked. Louis took the full one and went to dump it while Zayn got a new one just in time for Harry to christen it.

Slowly you guided Harry back to the car and you drove carefully and swiftly back to your shared flat. You avoided all potholes, bumps, and curves to keep Harry’s queasy stomach at ease.

“Kitten,” he whined.

You frowned. “I know baby, I know,” you sighed and kissed his forehead. “Your tummy hurts, I know,” you said sadly and guided him up the steps.

He sniffled a bit and you felt so awful because the poor thing is the healthiest person you ever met and he’s constantly sick. You just made it in the door pulling him forward as you face him. “Kitten, I–” And then he threw up all over you.

You truly didn’t care at all, you worked with eight year old children (and under) and they constantly were drooling, sneezing, coughing, and puking on you. It didn’t effect you at all. But Harry cared. Harry started crying.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you told him and brought him toward the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up. That’ll help you feel better,” you suggested and turned the shower on. You peeled his clothes off and tossed them in a garbage bag. You pushed him gently into the shower and you tossed your scrubs into the bag as well before joining him. You massaged his hair as you washed it and you rubbed his muscles as you cleaned him off. Then had him brush his teeth. You quickly did the same for yourself while you left Harry sitting on the toilet lid in a towel. You slipped on your PJ’s and slid on a pair of boxers for Harry that had a loose elastic so they wouldn’t hurt his tummy.

You wrapped him up in bed and placed another bucket beside him. You hurried to the kitchen, stopping in front of the front door so you could put a towel on top of Harry’s vomit. You grabbed anti-nausea medicine and some flu-symptom cold medicine. You went back to Harry and you tried to feed it to him. “This’ll make you feel better,” you promised. He shook his head.

“No, I’ll get sick again,” he pouted. “I tried drinking water, and I got sick,” he sniffled.

“Baby,” you said softly. “This will make you feel better, and then we’ll get you some tea and some water…maybe some crackers so you feel better,” you promised. “Please take it, sweetheart.”

He took it, even though he grimaced. A few moments later he wasn’t moaning as much. You sat with him and rubbed his belly over the blankets. You hummed softly, as you combed through his hair. Eventually his lips parted and you gently shifted him onto his side so he’d throw up as close to the bucket as possible if he threw up. Then you went to clean the apartment.

A few hours later Harry came out of your room and found you snuggled into the corner of the couch. “Hey, baby,” you said softly

“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so much and I…” he shook his head tears filling his eyes. “I love you so much,” he sniffed.

You smiled sadly. “Aw, Har-bear, I love you so much too. What’s wrong?” You asked.

“You’re just good at taking care of me.”

You grinned. “I love you,” you whispered in response and pressed a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll do anything for you.”

He kissed the top of your head. “Will you come cuddle me?” He asked.

“Of course,” you said simply tugging him toward your room.

“Kitten?” He mumbled as you slid into bed.

“What?” You asked looking up at him.

“Can I be the little spoon?” He wondered shyly looking at his feet. It was hard to believe the six foot, bulky, giant you loved so much could look so withdrawn and nervous.

“Of course, my love,” you promised with a smile opening your arms for your little spoon.