#i just need to write this out so ill stop feeling sick

[prussianvenom]

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[varjopeura]

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[subarashiihibi]

What I rly need to do is write up a thing abt this excerpt I read in one of the novels …. Ah it was so good I was filled with such emptiness and dread and suicidal ideation as soon as I read it … i have a final to take later (and get I am awake at nearly 4am) so after I get home from that maybe I will…

[rosicheeks]

Unfortunately relatable. I grew up in the church and have a lot of Christian trauma from that. I show up for special occasions for my parents… sometimes. But it’s uncomfortable from the moment I step through the door. Bigoted pastor, the self-righteousness disguising the prejudice, the political comments from the altar. Shots at young people left right and center as if the hell on earth wasn’t caused by the same older generation 90% of the congregation belongs to..

I miss being young in the choir and the youth groups and not struggling with it. It’s wild to look back at the younger version of me who was unshakeable in his faith and honestly just saddening.

I was texting my sister today about it and she said

“I 100% think ALL of us have a ton of religious trauma and everyone else in the family just doesn’t realize it cause they’re still drinking the kool-aid.”

I ran out of tag room and didn’t want to delete any 😭 seriously not lying I could write a book about all my thoughts and experiences

[tyrianlynch]

I started watching Suits today and have been playing the sims nonstop and have been reading nothing but fanfiction about gay firefighters and articles about how the CIA started a domino effect that created al qaeda and the taliban so yes I’m doing super well mentally

[szczylpierdolony]

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[fortunately-bi]

...... If I went on a hiatus for who knows how long again would y'all hate me....... 👉👈

[sillyuin]

Searching you

Genre: hurt/comfort, angts ??, very domestic fluff.

Pairing: Seungcheol x gn!reader.

Warnings: Reader is ill, couple arguments, crying, scoups being a walking green flag.

- Yuin’s note: At this point it is no longer necessary to say that every time I get sick, I write something that completely reflects how I feel.

Seungcheol knows how individual you are and respects that. He understands that you like to do things on your own, how difficult it is for you to ask for help, and even thought he is very proud of you, he will not hesitate to help when the opportunity arises.

However, that day he did not feel very proud. Seungcheol had returned from running some errands and when he entered the dining room, the first thing he saw was an unpleasant surprise. You were slumped over the table, your arms crossed as a pillow, with a thick blanket over your body.

He set the groceries down on the counter and approached, careful not to wake you up, but he barely got closer when you raised your head with clear agitation.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” he said, almost in a whisper. “What are you doing here? You should be resting.”

“Waiting for you…” you replied in a broken tone, looking down at the table.

Seungcheol pressed his lips together with frustration, and when he tried to place his hand on your shoulder, you shook him off a bit roughly, turning your face away to avoid seeing him. But that didn’t stop him.

“y/n,” his voice sounded kind and firm at the same time, but it became steady when you shrugged your shoulders and ignored him. “I’m talking to you, look at me.”

You pushed the chair back with a heavy noise, standing up to face him as if confronting an enemy. Not even his concerned gaze made you tremble; in fact, it might have made you even angrier.

“Where the hell did you go?” you asked, raising your voice slightly.

“I went to buy medicine and something for you to eat,” he replied calmly, trying his best to not pay attention to your irritable behavior.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You took a step forward as if you wanted to intimidate him, but Seungcheol stood his ground.

“I wanted to, but you couldn’t sleep last night because of the fever,” Cheol took a step forward trying to reach out to you; however, you stepped back two paces, curling up a bit under the blankets. He swallowed hard. “You needed to rest.”

“That’s just an excuse,” the sad tone of your voice reached Cheol’s ears like a loud noise, and your tear-filled eyes made his hands tremble in a mix of panic and confusion. “I needed you, and you left me!”

A heavy silence filled the apartment. Seungcheol looked at you with a downcast gaze, unsure of what to do. He felt rejected. He was trying to respect your space, your feelings and your illness. The only thing that mattered to him was you to be okay, even if it meant swallowing his pride and pleasing you.

However, his heart skipped a beat when he felt a familiar weight on his shoulder, as you were wrapping your arms around his waist in a desperate attempt to hug him.

He embraced you gently, placing one arm over your shoulders and using the other to pull the blankets away, gripping your waist to draw you closer to him. Your body was trembling with fever, so weak that you couldn’t even cry; still, you clung to him like the world’s gonna end, resting your face against his shoulder as the tears started to flow by itself.

After a few minutes, you regained your breath and barely pulled back to look into Cheol’s eyes, letting him wipe your face with the sleeve of his sweater. He felt that if he broke the hug, you would too, and kept his hold on as the moment lingered.

“I had a nightmare,” you said, tightening your hands around his torso. “I woke up scared, shaking, and when I saw that you weren’t there, I got angry.”

“I'm sorry,” he replied, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“No, I'm sorry,” you rested your face back on his shoulder, adjusting the hug a bit. He instinctively did the same. “I got mad, and you were just trying to help. You’re a sweetheart.”

Cheol smiled, leaving a little kiss on your shoulder. “I think the fever went up, your skin is burning and you’re saying weird things.”

A slight whine made him chuckle softly. “Why are you never serious?”

Seungcheol moved back a little, holding your face between his hands, giving you a big smile, and finally kissing you on the forehead.

“Don’t you like how I am?” He raised an eyebrow, making a face that made you laugh.

“No… I love you just the way you are.”

Cheol gave you another peck on the forehead before picking up the blanket from the floor and guiding you toward the bed. He went to the kitchen to fetch some medicine along with a glass of water, and as he returned to the room, you were sitting at the edge of the bed waiting for him.

“you're so stubborn” he said in a resigned tone and huffed, making you laugh. He was happy to see you in that state despite the sickness.

After taking your pills, you curled up in the blankets. Seungcheol sat on the floor, his arms crossed over the bed with his chin resting on them, wanting to stay by your side until he was sure you were asleep, no matter how long it took.

Your eyes slowly opened, and when you saw him, you couldn’t help the shy smile that spread across your face. You reached out your hand towards him and he took it, tenderly kissing your knuckles.

“Thanks for everything,” you closed your eyes again and squeezed his hand. “You really are a sweetheart.”

“You make me one” He smiled to himself as he pecked your knuckles once more. “I love you.”

[bighitfics]

jeon jungkook fanfics you should definitely watch before he comes back from the military.

(because girl you need it!) ୨୧ ‧₊˚

Trapped ୨ৎ by @jasminefics

— billionaire jungkook with serious anger issues, unrequited love (not really), forced proximity, marriage of convenience.

(the bgm alongside the writing is just topnotch, this author portrays jungkook as a grey character so wonderfully, you will find yourself confused but equally enthralled because you don’t know if you’re supposed to hate him or lowkey understand where he comes from)

One Night Stand With A Wanted Criminal ༄ by @bangtanff

— criminal jungkook, enemies to lovers, she fell first he fell harder kinda trope, smut, angst.

(this is a mini web series at this point, the one that deserves to air on netflix or amazon prime, the visual quality of this fanfic is unrivalled, the playlist is so convincing you’ll think its an album originally made for this series only, the best jungkook fanfic on youtube (in terms of quality)

Some Little Things Called Love ୭˚. ᵎᵎ by @.dreamers

— strangers to lovers, drama, angst, slice of life.

(it took me a while to get over this series, because I couldn’t stop crying my heart out for them, trust me when i tell you that my entire perspective on life changed after i finished watching it, some kdrama script writers need to take notes or hire her because the storyline is so impactful, we need more of such genres)

The Other Man ٠࣪⭑ by @hwangguemfictions

— love triangle, slowburn, depressed oc, simp jungkook (who fell first, and harder everytime)

(you might feel a little pissed at the beginning but every character is right at their own places, you can’t really judge or despise anyone, i love this fic with all my arteries)

From Now, Forever. 𓍯 by @hwangguemfictions

— whole kdrama feels, strangers to lovers, ill and sick oc, toxic delulu jungkook.

(I could feel the pain over the screen ya’ll, the endings really bittersweet!)

Stalker ୨ৎ by @starkofwinterfall

— stalker jungkook, university au, kidnapping, found family.

(this is so good omg! takes me back in time 😫🤚🏽 had me screaming, blushing, sliding down the door!!! the plot twist will blow your mind girlies)

have a good watch sweet cheeks ཻུ۪۪♡.

[thirdeyeblue]

@crxwleyss thank you for adding these stellar tags and for GETTING IT 💯

Fascinating how the Metacrisis Doctor has been given three separate names and three separate storylines that all directly contradict each other in the extended universe and yet the there is no canon group insists that there’s only one that exists and it’s somehow more important than the actual tv show, those two other extended universe stories (one of which is a Big Finish audio), and everything RTD has said

[sleepyangelkami]

INDISPOSED d.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DEAN WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - you always seem to feel more than upset when you're sick. luckily for you, dean's always by your side when you fall ill, no matter the time.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - sick!reader, illness symptoms, flu, dizziness, aches, reader's a little emotional, eating?, crying, mention of reader's lonely past, non-sexual nudity, kinda crybaby!reader, (1) use of y/n, slightly ooc dean, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

there's seemingly a tell tale sign of when you're feeling extra poorly, and that's the feeling of water beginning to pool in your waterline.

you couldn't help the dramatics that would take over your body, much less when you find dean sitting in your bedroom, assuring you that it was alright that he'd come home early from his hunt. "you shouldn't have to leave sam alone 'cause of me." you were a sniffling mess at your desk, for two reasons, one being that you were upset and the second being that your nose was so stuffed you could hardly breathe.

"sammy's fine to figure out the rest of this one, baby." dean was sitting on your bed, girly covers and throw pillows surrounding him. "and i don't have to do anything, i'm choosing to be here." dean's voice was all low and soft, the voice he used when you were upset which was seemingly more often than you'd thought.

you heard him shuffle across the room to where you sat on a brown, tattered chair.

he crouched down so he was eye level with you. "come on, sweetheart, you know you're just upset 'cause you feel all sick." his hand was gently tracing your thigh, soothing you from your sniffles. "think you just need to lay down, yeah?"

you mumbled something that he didn't quite catch with a nod.

he waited momentarily but you hadn't made any decision to move. "y/n." your eyes snapped up to meet his. "come lay down."

"okay." was your sheepish response.

dean didn't often call you by your name, he cast it away with all the lovely nicknames he'd picked out for you personally. nobody was baby but his car, until he'd met you. it came so easily, that soft way of loving.

when dean had you finally beneath the blankets, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, half-comforting and half-trying to gauge your temperature.

"where are you going?" your hand reached out for his lower arm.

dean turned down to look at you, a smile softly reaching his lips. "just getting your medication, baby, i'll be back, don't worry." and this time, the kiss pressed against your forehead was purely because he felt like it.

dean was well aware of your inability to take care of yourself. now, he was in no way calling you a nuisance, he just wished you cared for yourself as much as he did. with that being said, he did always love being able to care for you, it was a way that was so different than having to take care of sam his whole life. perhaps it was because this, he wasn't obliged to do, it wasn't expected of him.

he loved taking care of you but if anything were to happen to him... he'd like to know you could take care of yourself, too.

when dean returned to the bedroom, you were passed out asleep against the sheets. the man couldn't help but stop in his tracks.

you were a chatty person, awfully bubbly at times. and dean loved that about you, listening to you babble on about something and when he didn't catch a word he'd ask you to repeat what you said, it was always funny watching as the gears turned in your head, trying to remember.

sometimes you swore you talked so much that you tuned yourself out.

dean didn't though, he listened to every word that spilled from your lips.

but you were chatty with everyone you were close to. god forbid you ever went on a road trip with he and sam.

but with him you could be quiet at times, you still got shy and nervous around him which always made him coo, there was something sweet at the fact you could be so different behind closed doors, so yourself.

and seeing you like this, your lips drew into a pout and pink staining your ill cheeks, well it was rather nice, he thought.

he hated to be so evil as he was to wake you.

"sweetheart." the mere whisper of the name as his hands came down to soothe your arms was enough to have your eyelids peeling open. "sweetheart, c'mon, you gotta take your medicine."

a half-whine fell from your lips as he sat you up against the bed, sitting too so that you could lean yourself against him. dean was suddenly aware of how much hotter your body had gotten. he hadn't been gone long, just a trip to the kitchen to get you a glass of water and the medication he needed, though it'd taken him a while to find it. he had a bad habit of leaving things in strange places and forgetting about it.

he handed you off the capsules and then the glass of water.

"how're you feeling, honey?" the back of his palm pressed against your right cheek then slightly down your top, to your chest. he was like a concerned mother. "you're really hot."

"thanks." you quipped, leaning your hot forehead against his arm and sipping the water he'd given you.

he rolled his eyes at your remark, obviously taking your sickness more seriously than you were. "'m serious, you can't have blankets."

"dean!"

"no."

"dean, 'm cold." you nuzzled yourself further into dean's warm body, a dark grey hoodie coated his form along with black sweatpants, not his usual attire.

"you're not cold." he took your face between his two hands. "you're sick." pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose. you fought the words 'sap' to come from the back of your scratchy throat. "you can have the blankets but i have to take this off, then." you felt him gently pull at the shirt you'd stolen from him, clad on your body.

"deal." you mumbled, feeling a wave of dizziness hit you.

to make matters worse, you shook your head, thinking it would rid of the dizziness.

"hey, don't do that." he steadied your head before taking the glass out from your hands and placing it on the bedside dresser.

you felt his hands on your shirt, slowly pulling it from your frame. you helped by putting your arms in he air, allowing him to pull it off your body and toss it somewhere on the ground.

"want the tv on?" you nodded your head silently as the man rose from his place on the bed, reaching the tv stand where he picked up the remote and switched it on.

aimlessly, you uttered, "my legs hurt." while sliding back under the pretty covers.

he was busy fidgeting with the buttons on the remote. he never did know how to work your tv properly. "'s just cause your sick, it'll go away, baby."

you huffed at his response, laying your head on the pillows while you pulled the blanket close to you. you were cold but it was that sickly cold where you couldn't tell if it was really a chill or perhaps you were so warm that you felt cold, which didn't make a whole pile of sense.

when dean finally climbed back into the bed, your body practically collapsed on top of him.

he laid with an arm behind his neck and the other trailing shapes across your bare back, you lay with your head on his chest, listening to the low tv along with the thumping of his heart.

"are you okay?" you mumbled, voice slick with tiredness. the sickness was weird like that, hitting you suddenly, leaving just as immediately.

dean could have cooed at you. even while you were wrapped up in blankets, sick as a small hospital, you managed to ask him if he was okay.

It was another reason why he liked taking care of you. you took care of each other. "i'm okay."

another hushed mumble. "promise?"

"i promise." he answered honestly, fingers against your skin, moving up and down your back. "get some sleep, 'kay?"

a yawn passed your lips. "okay."

they said sleep was the best medicine, that it cured everything that was curable. well, you weren't sure anyone had said it to you but you just knew that it was said.

you had to beg to differ.

by dinnertime, your temperature was running hot.

earlier was the kind of sick that you could stomach, this was the kind of sick that had you flushed against the headboard of your bed, hands running down your face as you felt your head pound against the back of your eyes.

you could hear dean walk back into the room and you felt guilt soar through your veins.

you knew you were being... difficult to say the least. but you couldn't help it, hot tears gathering at your waterline all over again.

the mattress dipped as dean nudged your arm and you looked up at him with glossy eyes before looking down at the sandwich sitting on a plate in his hands.

"know you said you're not hungry but can you try eat some f'me? 's jam." his tone was all soft and his voice was all quiet. by now, he'd turned off the tv and closed the curtains, noticing how the light had been affecting your eyes. the only light on now was the little lamp sitting on your bedside table so you could actually see your surroundings.

you nodded hesitantly and took the sandwich from him.

dean noticed things about you like nobody else. he very early on found out that you loved jam sandwiches, you loved raspberry jam but you had an awful distaste for strawberry jam so from there on, he never bought strawberry jam on the offhand occurence that you may accidentally use it without looking at the label and get your jam sandwich ruined.

you were halfway through said sandwich when you placed it back on the plate, begging to tear up.

dean immediately took notice of it, taking the plate from you. "wh's wrong, baby? too much?"

you shook your head, sniffling. even the act of shaking your head had you clutching it soon after.

dean tutted, moving your hand away so he could soothe your forehead with a kiss and a gentle movement of his thumb. "poor girl." you heard him mutter under his breath, his brows strewn together in sympathy.

looking up at him, you had those glassy eyes that made his stomach feel almost as nauseous as yours. he didn't have to ask what was troubling you for you answered, anyway, to the silent question behind his eyes. "you're so nice to me."

his heart shattered a little.

it was no supirse that you didn't grow up with much comfort surrounding you and that only got worse as you began to get older. some days, you didn't think you'd ever get the comfort that your body ached for. and then dean winchester walked in, and his one and only goal was to take care of you, was to care for you, was to love you.

so you couldn't help tearing up a little from time to time when you think about the strawberry jam he gave up just for you.

"oh, baby. you're my sweet girl." he pulled you closer to him, putting your forehead against his chest so you could lean your weight on him. "'course 'm nice to you."

he helped you sit on his lap, fully discarding the place wherever his hands could push it to.

then his hands found your body, roaming it with this gentleness yet assertion. you'd put his shirt back on a while ago and discarded the blankets, which he was thankful for. he needed to break your temperature.

you weren't due medication for another two hours and you'd taken all the painkillers you could.

right now, all he could offer was himself.

and that was enough for you.

your arms tightened around his shoulders as you sniffled, tears breaking down your cheeks with a defeated sigh. "hate bein' sick." you uttered, sadness evident in your voice.

"i know, angel, i know." he gently rocked you in his lap, not enough to make your head dizzy but enough to bring you back to the moment, to remind you he was there.

and you stayed like that for seemingly a long time, melting into one another's embrace as if it were the most entertaining thing in the world.

you pressed your flush cheek against the hoodie covering his bare shoulder. the tears eventually dried up and all that was left was your frustrated sighs and mumbles.

"'s okay, sweetheart." he pressed a final kiss to your flushed face. "it'll pass."

and he was by your side as soon as it did.

main masterlist/dean's masterlist

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I wanted to request a story where doctor!Remus and you are dating. You're out with James and Sirius whilst he's at work and you pass out/are sick/whatever you think fits the story and they freak out and take you to the hospital, where Remus sees you and loses his mind. He takes care of you and the guys are there for moral support. Also, reader is afraid of doctors in general but specially needles so putting that IV on is a hassle in itself hehe.

Thanks in advance!!!!

Hi, thanks for requesting!

cw: fear of hospitals and needles, somewhat angsty, mention of vomit (in the past tense, if that helps), this was sort of weird to write because I don't usually write reader arguing with their love interest like this but I hope it came out okay

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

You’re alerted to Remus’ arrival by Sirius’ shrill voice. 

“Finally! I’ve been texting you.” 

“We’re not really encouraged to be checking our phones during busy shifts,” says Remus. He sounds sharp and tired, and you look up from where your head rests on James’ shoulder just as he comes to a stop in front of your chair. A creased brow and gentle hands feeling at your forehead. “Hi, darling. Seems like that flu’s gotten a bit worse, hm?”

“You told us to check in on her,” Sirius goes on, “and we did, and we found her basically in a puddle of her own sick.” 

“She’d been sick in the toilet, and then fell asleep on the bathmat,” James clarifies. “But she seemed really very ill.” 

“Let’s go back,” Remus slides an arm around your waist, hoisting you up against his side and helping you walk towards the double doors that lead out of the waiting area. “What was her temp at when you found her?” 

“We don’t know.” Sirius trails behind, exasperated. “We couldn’t figure out where you kept your thermometer, and she was hardly in a state to say.” 

Remus makes a worried humming sound. “How are you feeling, dovey?”

“Tired,” you sigh, hoping you’re not leaning too hard against him but having a difficult time recalling what walking normally feels like, “‘nd my head hurts.” 

“She seems a bit better than when we first found her,” James says. You think you detect some worry in his tone as well. “She was just waking up then, and Sirius got her to drink some water in the car.” 

“Doesn’t sound like you’ve been taking very good care of yourself,” Remus murmurs, just for you. He kisses your head. “Poor love, I knew I shouldn’t have come to work today.” 

“M’alright,” you say, letting him help you onto a small cot in a curtained-off room. Sirius and James file in behind you, and Remus shuts the curtain once they’re inside. 

You look at him, and your surroundings, the machines and tools and the overwhelming harshness of it all, start to sink in for you. 

“Can you take me home?”

Remus’ expression is gentle. “Not yet, sweetheart. You should be feeling much better once I do, though, yeah?” He brushes a piece of hair away from your face, encouraging you to lie back on the pillow. “Would one of you want to hop up here with her?” he asks the other boys, then to you: “You don’t mind sharing your bed, do you?”

“No,” you say, somewhat bemusedly. Sirius grins at you, climbing over you to lie down by your side. 

“Thanks. I’m just gonna get your vitals now, dove.” 

You feel a bit silly, but your nerves worsen as Remus checks you over, sticking plasticy things in your ear and cold metal on your back and making his various concerned faces. He must notice something when he takes your pulse, because he thumbs over the skin of your forearm comfortingly. Sirius, noticing, works an arm under your shoulders and pulls you close to his side. 

“Alright,” Remus says in what you recognize to be his most soothing voice, “look at Sirius for me, please.” 

You, of course, look in the opposite direction of where he wants you, and he’s taking your arm, pushing up your sleeve. 

“Remus.” Betrayal sounds in your voice as you pull away from him, holding your arm close to your side. 

He sighs. “You need fluids and medicine to get better. You want to go home, yeah?” 

“I don’t want an IV,” you say in a tight voice. 

Remus softens. He rubs your leg through your pajama pants. “I know, babydove, but you need to have one. I’ll get it over with as quickly as I can.” 

“I had to have one last summer, when I got dehydrated,” James pipes up. He’s stolen a small stool likely meant for the doctor and is swiveling back and forth restlessly. “It wasn’t as bad as you might think. I hardly remembered it was there most of the time.” 

“I just don’t want to,” you say again, voice going quiet and frail. Your vision starts to blur. 

“Take a deep breath,” Remus coaches in that lulling voice. It’s half working, a familiar sort of comfort wrapping like a blanket around your frazzled nerves. You feel torn between your trust in your boyfriend and your absolute terror of everything that happens in a hospital. “You’re alright, yeah? This is the last thing you have to do for me. After, you can rest or have a nap, and when you’re well enough you can go home, okay? I might even be able to go with you.” 

You shake your head wordlessly, feeling ridiculous and childish but altogether petrified as you wipe tears from underneath your eyes. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” His brows pinch, and he leans over, kissing your temple. “You’ll be okay, I promise. Look over at Sirius, yeah?” 

You cry but don’t resist as Sirius uses the arm around your shoulders to turn your face away, feeling Remus take your arm in his grasp. His fingers press gently into the crook of your elbow. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Sirius says quietly. He touches his lips to your forehead. “You’ve got this, babe, it’ll be over before you know it.” 

Remus is obviously doing his best to make good on this promise. He ties the tourniquet quickly, and something cold and wet swipes over your skin. The bite of the needle doesn’t come as a surprise, but you take in a tiny, petrified breath anyway. It rasps wetly in your throat. 

“You’re alright,” Remus murmurs, undoing the tourniquet as he speaks. “You’re doing so well, almost done now.” 

You’re not in pain, necessarily, but the sensation of a foreign object in your arm is distinctly unsettling, and Sirius makes a soft sound of distress when your weeping worsens. None of this is helping your headache, either. Your sinuses throb. 

“There.” You hear tape ripping, and then Remus is pressing it carefully over the spot in your arm. “There, done.” 

Sirius lets go of your face. The moment you turn around Remus’ is on you, brushing away your tears and kissing your hairline apologetically. 

“That’s it, darling, you can relax now. You did so well. Do you feel alright?” 

“He means are you cross with him,” James translates helpfully. 

Remus gives his friend an exasperated look, but his smile is sheepish. “That too, I suppose.” 

“Honestly?” Your voice is pitchy. It scratches against your flu-torn throat. “A little, but not really. I’ll get past it.” 

Remus gives a little laugh. “Oh, my love.” He bends forward, wrapping you up in a hug. “Thank you. I can live with that.” He holds the back of your head, rubbing between your shoulder blades firmly. When he lets you go, it’s with a kiss to your brow. “Sirius, get out of her bed. She needs to rest.” 

“Excuse me?” Sirius is affronted. “I think I’ve just proven I make an excellent pillow. And where am I supposed to sit? James has taken the only stool.” 

“He can stay,” you tell Remus. 

“Thank you, gorgeous. See? Jamie, come over here so we can watch a film on your phone.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, stepping aside to let James scoot by on his stool. “Fine, but try to get some actual sleep. I want your temperature down when I come back to check on you, yeah?” 

“You’re the doctor,” Sirius points out, getting cozy on his side of the bed as you and James scroll through films. “What’s she supposed to do, will it down? Sod off.” 

Remus heaves a long-suffering sigh, pulling off his gloves and dropping them in the trash can. “So glad you’re here.” 

“And where would your girl be if we weren’t, Rem?” asks James, looking up from his phone to raise his brows. “She’s lucky to have us.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, leaving the room. “Aren’t we all.”

[inkedbybarnes]

anything

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: bucky is determined to take care of you while you're sick.

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: mentions of insecurities, mentions of illnesses (but vaguely described), fluffy ahh shit bc why not, usage of pet names such as baby and doll. bucky being stubbornly sweet (it is indeed, a warning), lowercase writing.

i've been sick the past few days hence the creation of this fic. idk why my mood drops when i'm sick... once again, this is too fluffy even for my own good but i warned you and you're reading it still anyway. 🤨 haha jk, i hope you enjoy this one! 🩷

dividers by @cafekitsune!

reblogs, comments, and likes are highly appreciated! thank you. ♡

“can you please let me in, baby?"

that was the fifth time bucky had asked the same question, never giving up on his mission to take care of you after learning from jarvis – out of all people... or robots? – that you were sick.

“bucky, i promise, i'm fine. stop trying to break the door,” you answered, your clogged nose not helping as you sounded horrible even with a concrete wall separating you from him. “go and tell steve that you're joining the mission. you can't withdraw yourself just because i'm—achoo!”

your nose began to leak, and you were now distracted with the need to find the tissue box that used to be on your bed. you didn't hear the door clicking open as well as the heavy footsteps of a certain soldier walking towards you.

“just because you're what? sick?”

you jumped, feeling the edge of the bed sink with his weight. you quickly grabbed the tissue box that was mysteriously thrown under the bed before facing bucky with the duvet covering most of your body.

“how did you open the door?”

bucky shrugged. “i broke the doorknob. you didn't say anything about breaking doorknobs.”

you sighed, not winning this argument with bucky. “you shouldn't be here, bucky. you're supposed to be preparing for a mission tomorrow, not babysitting me!”

“and let you go through this on your own? tough chance, doll. i'm your boyfriend for fuck's sake, and don't tell me that you're worried about getting me sick because we both know i'm immune," he argued, reaching out and pulling the blanket down enough to reveal your face. “are you really upset that i want to take care of you? you should be demanding things from me, baby. instead you've been hiding from me.”

“because i don't need anything, bucky. i can handle myself just fine." you huffed, knowing you wanted his attention and care so badly. remembering your face was exposed, you felt insecure again. you dragged the cover back up and turned away. “i also don't want you to see me like this.”

“like what?"

“like a mess," you muttered underneath the sheets. “you've never seen me like this before, and i swear i am the worst when i'm sick. you don't have to see me like this, okay? i don't want you to.”

you felt silly. it was completely normal to get sick, but you hated how extreme your body would act out whenever an illness would attack you. you'd always sound and look like you were fighting a battle in hell alone. the way your mind would take an entire flip and drag you to your lowest point didn't help either. so, not only were you feeling physically horrible, you were also struggling mentally.

“a mess? what mess?” he asked, lifting the cover to join you underneath it which caught you off guard. you were entirely exposed to his eyes now. “there's my girl. where's the mess that you're talking about, huh?”

with the little amount of energy left in you, you brought your hands up to cover your face. he could see how much of a mess you were now, far from the dream you've painted since the day you dated him. now, you were nothing but a nightmare of your reality.

“don't you dare hide from me. i haven't seen you all day and it's driving me insane," he complained, pulling your hands away from yourself. he brought his thumb to your teary eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fall. “i can't believe you're hiding from me just because you think i can't handle seeing you sick. what did you think i'd do once i saw you like this?”

you sniffed, hesitation holding you back from telling him the truth. it's only been three months since you've started dating bucky, and you were still in that stage where you'd constantly try impress him.

you weren't faking yourself, no. however, you still did your best to only show your good side and tuck away your insecurities. unfortunately, you had to get sick too soon and have to risk bucky seeing you this way.

“you thought i'd leave you? won't like you anymore? get turned off or something?”

you nodded, knowing that was exactly what went through your head and a bit pissed that he was able to read your mind without actually having the power to do so.

bucky's eyes softened at your confession, letting out a soft sigh as he saw how badly you were beating yourself up.

“if it's because of how you look right now, then it's true. you do look different," he answered, your chest tightening. “your eyes lost their glow, you're frowning more often, your eyes are all puffy, you are definitely grumpier than usual, your lips are dry and chapped from—”

“okay, i get it, bucky! you don't have to rub it in my fa—”

“but i won't be doing whatever is on your mind. you're sick, doll. it'll affect you. it's normal. hell, i look even worse when i used to get sick, but you? you still look so fucking lovely." he held your face gently, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “even then, i don't give a fuck on how messy you can get. i'm your boyfriend. i should be taking care of you, helping you feel better, and bringing back the glow in your eyes. please, baby. let me take care of you.”

this time, you were looking back at him. "you mean it?"

"of course I mean it," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "i love you, doll. i don't care how you look like right now. you could look like a swamp monster and be sick as a dog, and i would still think that you are the most beautiful woman for me."

you giggled softly, his words filling you with warmth and reassurance. you felt so lucky to have a man who truly loved you and handled your insecurities with such understanding and care, and even sillier for thinking he'd leave you for such reasons.

“thank you. that really made me feel better," you told him, your arms slowly creeping forward to hold him. “i'm sorry for hiding. i was just scared to turn you off or anything.”

“are you kidding? i'm trying my best not to hold you down and kiss you all over. i haven't even hugged you for a day,” bucky said, a pout on the verge of forming on his face.

“it hasn't even been a day, bucky. now, who's dramatic?" you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “and you're supposed to be on a mission tomorrow! are you really not going?”

“when i could be here taking care of you?” he asked, as if the answer was already obvious. “the others can handle it. my main priority is to do anything you want and make you feel better.”

“anything?”

he smiled, leaning down to let your lips meet softly. "anything."

( a lil bonus < 3 )

“what is that smell?”

sam, steve, and natasha entered the compound after a quick briefing for their mission tomorrow. they joined tony and clint who were having a casual conversation in the living room about the best burrito in town.

the kitchen was an open space, the aroma of whatever bucky was cooking spreading all around the nearby rooms.

sam didn't hesitate to come closer and inspect the kitchen, finding the entire counter lined up with various spices and plates that bucky filled with his dishes.

“what's the occasion? did i miss something?" sam asked, grabbing a fork to take a little taste until bucky slapped his hand away. "ow! what was that for?"

"hands off." bucky warned, frowning at sam. “that's not for you, wilson."

“not even a nibble? come on, man. it smells amazing!”

their usual bickering caught the attention of the other avengers, immediately joining them in the kitchen which annoyed bucky even more when he saw them eyeing the food he made.

"before any of you try to ask, no. this is not for any of you."

"who's it even for?" natasha asked, the least interested to have a taste, but was curious either way.

bucky answered with your name. "she's sick."

"what? since when?" clint asked, worry flashing across his face. "can we do anything?"

bucky glanced up before hesitantly answering. "well.. she did say she wanted to watch a movie after eating."

clint snapped his fingers and smiled. "i'm on it."

"i'll get jarvis to check on her vitals every hour and create a diagnosis," tony said, already tapping on his smart watch. "assuming she wouldn't be too comfortable letting the entire team know what's going on with her body, i'll just let you receive the updates. just update me with what you can, yeah?"

"i'll talk to fury and let you both have a week free from work," steve offered. "she needs the rest and she needs you."

"oh, i'll handle fury. he can't say no to his favourite," natasha said with a smug smile. "tell her i'll bring her all her favourite snacks once we're back from our mission, and that she better be back to full health so we can go out together."

bucky nodded, chest warming with the genuine concern they shared. he was excited to let you know how loved and deserving of all this you were.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

[creamflix]

HI KASHI <33 hope you’re having a great day !! saw your requests are open so i’m here asking if you could write gojo and/or choso trying to take care of a sick fem!reader take your time ofc !! love you and your writing so much <33

content: established relationship with gojo & choso (seperate), no reader gender specified, reader is sick, fluff and crack thank u for the request ml. i was having a really tough day and writing this made me feel a whole lot better. hope you enjoy <3 — general masterlist ☆

when in doubt, mochi it out.

a slogan that makes no sense, but when it comes to your boyfriend, SATORU, nothing ever truly does. he is nothing if not persistent, committed to his very questionable ways of taking care of you. you're curled up on the couch, sniffling into your third tissue of the hour, bundled up in enough blankets to resemble a very grumpy burrito.

“mochi makes everything better,” he declares, brandishing the tray of snacks like it's a miracle cure. “don’t fight it. just let the healing power of dessert take over.”

you stare at him, eyes glassy from your cold. “it’s sugar and rice, toru. sugar. i’m pretty sure that’s the opposite of medicine.”

“ah ah ah, but you underestimate the psychological benefits,” he counters, shoving a fluffy piece of mochi dangerously close to your face. “studies show happiness boosts the immune system, and you can’t tell me you’re not happy when you see me. c'mooonnn. smile for the genius doctor.”

“you’re not a doctor.”

“not officially. but emotionally? i’ve got my phd in loving you.”

you groan, sinking further into your cocoon. “that doesn’t even —”

“ah-ah! don’t strain yourself, sweetheart,” he interrupts, pressing a finger to your lips with all the drama of a soap opera actor. “you need your energy to chew this delicious, healing mochi.”

you cough pointedly, aiming it at him. he doesn’t flinch.

“cute,” he grins. “see? that’s already a 5% improvement. now, let’s move on to phase two of my revolutionary treatment plan: satoru’s patented personal heater.”

before you can protest, he’s wedging himself onto the couch beside you, all long limbs and ridiculous confidence. he wraps himself around you like a clingy octopus, radiating an absurd amount of heat. it would be sweet if he wasn’t crushing you under his weight.

“satoru,” you wheeze, “i can’t breathe.”

“that’s the illness talking. it’s fine. i’m a doctor, remember?”

you somehow manage to elbow him in the ribs, and he laughs, pulling back just enough to give you some air. “okay, okay. personal heater mode: adjusted.”

he adjusts the blanket around you, tucking it in like you’re a patient in some bizarre spa. “better?”

you nod grudgingly, but the relief doesn’t last. he’s back to poking and prodding at you almost immediately.

“you know, this could’ve all been avoided if you wore my scarf last week,” he muses, squinting at you like a disappointed parent. “but noooo, ‘i don’t need it, toru, it’s not that cold.’ and now look at you. tragic.”

“you sound like nanami,” you mutter, voice muffled by your blanket fortress.

he gasps like you’ve mortally wounded him. “take that back. i’m fun. i brought snacks!”

“i don’t want snacks, i want soup.”

“soup's for the weak. mochi's for winners.”

you groan again, though you can’t entirely suppress the smile tugging at your lips. satoru catches it immediately, of course.

“ah, see? the mochi's working! admit it, i’m the best boyfriend ever.”

“you’re insufferable,” you mumble, but the affection in your voice is impossible to hide.

“that’s just the fever talking.” he boops your nose with one of the little mochi pieces before popping it into his mouth, looking far too pleased with himself.

he leans back, pulling you closer against him. “you know, they say laughter is the best medicine. so technicallyyy, i’m already curing you.”

“does that mean you’ll stop with the jokes?”

“never. but i will feed you the cough syrup if you ask nicely. i might even do the airplane noise if you’re extra sweet.”

you throw another tissue at his face. he dodges it with a laugh, catching it mid-air.

“you loooovvve me,” he sing-songs, wrapping his arms around you again.

you sigh, leaning into him despite yourself. “unfortunately.”

“and that’s why you’ll live to see another day,” he grins, pressing a kiss to your temple. “now, how about i grab some soup and mochi? compromise is key, after all.”

CHOSO genuinely looks like he’s seen a ghost, which is almost ironic because you’re the one that feels like death warmed over. his wide eyes are glued to your flushed face, and it’s clear that his brain is short-circuiting.

“are you... okay?” he asks, voice just above a whisper, like raising it might make you crumble into dust.

“it’s just a cold, cho,” you rasp, reaching out to reassure him. but he takes an immediate, panicked step back, hands flying up in surrender.

“yuuji said humans are fragile when they’re sick,” he mutters, gaze flickering nervously between you and the floor. “and you look...fragile.”

“i’m not going to break.”

“but what if you do?” he blurts, voice cracking slightly, and you can’t help but blink at him in disbelief. choso isn’t usually one to panic, but apparently, the idea of you being sick has completely thrown him off balance.

when you ask for medicine, he darts away like a frightened deer and returns seconds later with a blister pack and a bottle of water. he leaves them on the coffee table before retreating again, this time halfway across the room.

“choooo,” you groan, flopping onto the couch. “you’re making it weird.”

“i’m not trying to,” he mumbles, standing stiffly like he’s trying to work out the math of the optimal distance to keep from you. “is this... far enough?”

“you’re acting like i’m contagious.”

“are you not?”

“you’re half a curse! pretty sure you’re immune!” you glare at him weakly. “you won’t catch my cold. i just want you to sit with me. please.”

his brow furrows, and you can practically see the gears turning. the logical part of him is probably agreeing with you, but the overprotective boyfriend part — the part yuuji apparently filled with all kinds of advice — looks terrified.

“...okay,” he says at last, hesitantly moving toward you like he’s approaching a sleeping bear. “but if you start looking worse, i’m calling yuuji.”

you laugh, but it quickly turns into a coughing fit. immediately, choso panics again. “do you need something? tea? soup? a doctor? i can go get someone —”

“cho,” you wheeze, waving him down. “soup sounds nice. just grab it from the kitchen.”

he’s off like a shot, and you can hear him fumbling around in the kitchen for a while before he reappears, carefully balancing a steaming bowl. this time, he doesn’t put it down and bolt. instead, he sits down next to you, though he still leaves a noticeable gap.

“do you want me to... feed it to you?” he asks awkwardly, holding the spoon like it might bite him.

you bite back a grin. “’s okay, cho. i can manage.”

he looks relieved but still watches you like a hawk as you eat, ready to spring into action at the slightest sign of distress. and honestly? it’s kinda sweet. sure, he’s overthinking everything, but his concern is endearing.

“thanks for taking care of me,” you say softly, leaning against him once you’ve finished. he stiffens for a moment but doesn’t pull away, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“yuuji said that’s what you’re supposed to do for the people you care about,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.

“he also probably didn’t tell you to act like i’m radioactive.”

“...no.”

you chuckle, feeling a little better already.

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[wonysugar]

incredibly out of character of me to write something like this about yujin and quite frankly idk what came over me… BUT WALK WITH ME!

gp yujin thoughts!

cw : kinda breeding kink, heavyy puppy kink, subtle praise kink, this is probably kinda nasty in terms of detailing and description sorry y’all it’s like 2am HELPP i’m fighting demons right now

you look at these pictures and think “omg sweet girl.. she does no wrong.” and you’d be… so right actually she’d be the sweetest girlfriend ever i mean look at her SHE TAKES YOU OUT ON DATES EVERY WEEKEND AND BUYS YOU FLOWERS BEFORE PICKING YOU UP anyways

one random saturday, you ask her if you guys could simply chill at home instead of going out since you caught a cold prior to the hang out, to which she will, of course, happily oblige! she’s fine being anywhere as long as it’s with you aheheheh she’s so cute she’d start actually giggling at the mere thought of having to take care of a sick yn, making sure you’re okay and watching over you:(( sweet bby

one thing she wasn’t expecting, however, was to witness you getting surprisingly and strangely aroused by being pampered this much and having to take care of you in another way. or, actually.. more like having the roles switch and being taken care of instead! :]

she doesn’t know what to do when you’re kissing all over her and whining about how much you need to give her a reward for being so good to you. on one hand, she wants to be spoiled too and have you all to herself. on the other, she wants to tuck you back to sleep because you’re ill and deserve some good rest!! if things went according to plan, she wouldn’t even have thought twice about it and would’ve just given you tea to drink and force you to take a well-deserved nap..

but let’s just say that the dick in between her legs, very familiar traitor to yujin, had other plans.

honestly, with your soft hand palming her dick through the fabric of her jeans that was accompanied by the sweet things you whispered in her ear, it made it impossible for her to not want more.

so when you’re finally bouncing on her twitching cock cowgirl style whilst she lays back on the couch? oh well YESS~~

and one thing about yujin? oh she’s a sensory girlie i fear… poor puppy can’t enjoy having sex if she can’t hear and see every little thing that’s happening. from the soft moans and ‘good puppy’s escaping your lips and the way you’re bouncing up and down in front of her all the way down to the noise your skin makes when it’s slapping against hers due to her rough pounding and seeing you sneak a hand under your top to access your own chest, playing with your own nipples and getting off on her adorable vulnerability,,, or maybe she’s even paying close attention to the wet sound your pussy makes when it’s rubbing against the shaft of her hard cock, she’s watching it pump in and out of you and stretch you out:(( sometimes maybe even watch and hear it slip out on accident, listening to the ‘plop’ sound it makes on your stomach when it slaps it.. YES it’s frustrating and YES it’s also incredibly hot to her LISTEN—

it’s all sososo lewd to her,,, it makes her feel so filthy ouh it drives her crazy me thinks

also the consent check is THERE! she knows you’re sick, she needs to constantly make sure you’re feeling alright enough to continue and always reminding you that you can always stop whenever you feel overwhelmed she’s so soft i’m.

omg random thoughts about yujin nodding eagerly when you talk dirty to her,, “does it feel good, baby?” and she can only whimper and keenly nod as a response because she can’t speak coherent and proper sentences when you’re making her feel this good foekfnem SHE’S SENSITIVE OKAY

also i am a firm believer of her being a drooler i don’t CARE! she’s digging her nails into your naked thighs whenever she’s close to climax, looking up at you with glossy eyes, upturned eyebrows and a cute pout:((((( her mouth often agape when she does cum, it’s very common for her to drool all over her chin as she rides out her orgasm and shoots her thick load into your womb, getting too into it to even remember that she needs to PULL OUT WHEN CUMMING? listen SHE’S JUST A STUPID PUPPY LET HER LIVEE

and when it comes to the aftercare? oh it’s unmatched; you’re passed out, naked, on the couch next to her and she runs her hand through your hair, scratching it and giving you a scalp message cause she knows your head probably hurts from orgasming while having a cold… GUYS— [EXPLOSIONS]

[moonchildstyles]

hiii i was wondering if you would write a blurb about vamp h taking care of a drunk y/n lol i think it’d be awfully cute omg or a girls night out (+ one vampire) and he’s like trailing after her trying to keep her out of trouble

wordcount: 3.9k+

—————

"Darling, are you certain you are not going to be cold?" 

Twisting and turning in the mirror, her dress ruched over her body in tight folds, it took all of (Y/N)'s effort to keep her smile at bay. "I'm sure I'll be fine, H. It's not that cold out, and we won't be spending much time outside anyway." 

It was clear he still wasn't pleased at her answer with the way he folded his arms across his chest and set his mouth in a grim line. (Y/N) had to bite back her smile lest he see her amusement from where he was leaning against the doorframe to her closet. He hadn't moved much from where he'd started the night watching her try on practically every outfit she had stuffed into both their wardrobe and closet. 

She could feel his eyes on her as she smoothed her dress over her thighs, pulling down the hem another inch before ruching it back up. Counting down in her head, she had to keep herself from laughing when he followed the same pattern he'd curated for the past ten minutes.

"What if you fall ill? Or the weather changes while we're out? Y'could freeze before I have a chance to warm you."

This time, she couldn't stop the laugh from falling from her lips. She stopped her assessment in the mirror, turning to Harry with her amusement clear on her features and a cant of her head.

"H, c'mon."

His own expression tightened, his stubborn streak peeking out. "Come on, what?"

Stepping towards him on bare feet, (Y/N) peered up at him. "I know you think humans can't handle anything, but, honestly, do you really think it's that easy for me to get sick or freeze to death?"

They both knew well that Harry had done his share of research when it came to anything human. Especially after bonding and ensuring (Y/N) wanted to be at his side for their forever, he'd deep dived into anything and everything human to refresh his knowledge and become the most perfect beloved he could be—including knowing just how to take care of her. He knew better than to assume she would drop dead after a gust of wind. 

Despite the stubborn line of his jaw, he relented, "No." 

"Then, why are you so nervous about tonight?" she crooned, wrapping her arms around his middle with her chin set on his chest. 

His palms ghosted down her back, leaving a chilled trail just barely felt through the fabric of her dress, until he stopped at the bottom of her spine. His touch was delicate. She could see the whole of him softening the longer she looked up at him. 

"You know I worry about you," he murmured, "Anything is possible when it comes to humans. I dread testing the limits when it comes to you." 

As much as she teased him and found his concern over something as simple as a breeze something to laugh over, the root of it all was something that had her softening. It was hard not to hear his words and grow tender. 

"I promise I'm going to be okay, Harry," she told him, "I'm going to bring a jacket, and you're meeting us after dinner, anyway. If I feel like I need more than my jacket I can text you and let you know." 

Though she knew he would never be one hundred percent pleased with her answer unless it was her layering up with all dangers padlocked away from her, this seemed to be enough for him as he sucked in an unnecessary breath. 

"I suppose that will work," he sighed, overdramatic as always, "You are rather strong." 

Stretching to the tips of her toes, (Y/N) pecked a quick kiss to the soft of Harry's lip. "I promise I'll be okay. Thank you for worrying about me, though." 

He chased after her when she pulled away, craning his neck to steal one more kiss before she landed on the flat of her feet once more. "'S a privilege, m'love." 

It was poetry like that that almost had her agreeing to wrap up in layers and layers complete with a shell of bubble wrap before she left the house. 

————— 

Harry couldn't keep the frown from his face as he parked across the street from the nightclub he was meeting (Y/N) and her friends at. He'd never been to an establishment like this before (minus blood clubs but that was an entirely different concept that appealed to his more baser needs, so it didn't count), and, judging by the specimens he could see pouring in and out, he would have liked to keep it that way.

But, this was where (Y/N) had asked him to meet her and there was no way he was going to let her down. 

He was just going to have to hold his breath, he decided. Before setting foot inside, he was sure he would not be a fan of the scents perfuming the building. 

It would only be a few hours, he reminded himself as he stepped out of his car. Hours like this were a minute compared to the eternity of his existence. He could handle tonight without a doubt.

The slight breeze in the air (he didn't even want to think about (Y/N)'s bare legs enduring this wind) pushed open the unbuttoned lapels of his shirt. He hadn't been sure what he should wear for the night, but he took some cues from (Y/N)'s dress and heels when he decided to pull a shimmering satin piece from the wardrobe and fitted black trousers. Looking at the young men walking in and stumbling out of the nightclub, he wondered if they were underdressed or if he was overdressed. 

That concern didn't last long, though, pushed aside once he heard a familiar peal of laughter pouring out of the swinging door of the nightclub. What he was wearing was pushed to the back of his mind then, his priority shifting. He needed to get inside and ensure (Y/N) was alright just like she had promised. 

Making it to the entrance of the nightclub, Harry was stopped by a man tucked away in a cubby by the door. He was dressed in all black, a bored expression on his face when Harry approached. 

"Hey, how are you?" the man asked, barely looking at Harry as he spoke. 

A furrow pinched Harry's brow. "I am well, thank you." 

At his abrupt tone, the man finally chanced a look at Harry. He lingered for only a moment on his stern expression before seemingly shaking it off. "That's great, man. Can I see your ID?" 

The man set his hand out, palm up in expectation. The knit in Harry's brows tightened that much more at the ask. This never happened at the blood clubs from what he could remember; why did it matter who he was before stepping inside? 

Nonetheless, he pulled out the (forged) ID out of his wallet, passing it off to the man with a quick flash of his hand. The man barely glanced at the piece of plastic before he flicked his eyes back up to Harry with a slight smile curling his lips. 

"So, you're Harry," the man pointed out, passing back Harry's ID. 

Pocketing it, Harry wasn't sure what this man was trying to get at, but answered him nonetheless, "Yes. That's me. Why?" 

The man shook his head, a small laugh falling from his lips before he stepped away from the door. "Nothing. Your girlfriend just made sure to let everyone know you were coming tonight. She'll be excited to see you."

Mumbling a thank you to the man, Harry stepped around him and entered the nightclub. While it was a sweet thought that (Y/N) had boasted about him to the nightclub staff, he wasn't sure why she would go through all of the trouble. It wasn't like her to bubble off to strangers. 

The lights were off, leaving the bar lining the back of the space with only a dim glow for the tenders to work by. The main floor, full of people dancing (at least that's what he thought that was what they were doing. Harry couldn't be sure, and he truthfully didn't want to look close enough to find out) was the darkest space with only pumping strobes and multicolored spotlights to be the only guides. Here and there were tall tables stationed by the bar and rounded booths tucked into the walls, no seat left unclaimed despite the busy dance floor. Scanning his eyes over the packed bodies, Harry searched for a familiar dress or the peak of a familiar scent, hoping to find (Y/N) somewhere. 

His hunt didn't take long, finding (Y/N) with a few other girls he was familiar with only through photos on the far edge of the dancing crowd. He was only able to catch a view of her profile, where she had a lazy smile on her lips and her lashes sitting half lidded over her eyes. There was a cup in her hand, the neon liquid almost empty between shards of ice, though she still managed to slosh it almost to the edge with every uncoordinated sway of her body. 

Harry didn't waste any time before he was meandering his way through the throng of bodies, keeping his breath stilted so as to not bother his senses with the scent of so many others that were not his beloved. It was bad enough he felt the heat of their bodies and the unnecessary brushes against him, he didn't want anything more from him to invade his senses. 

Just as he hit the edges of their little group, (Y/N) stumbled on her heels, her features falling. In a rush, Harry was at her side, saving her balance and settling her back on her feet. A bewildered expression crossed her face, one he was sure matched her friends who all had eyes on him as well. Though the second she recognized his chilled touch and the familiar hands wrapped around her arms, she loosened back into her oblivious state. 

"Harry!" she cheered, completely forgetting about her almost finished drink when she twirled on her feet and threw her arms around his shoulders, "You're here!" 

His bunched muscles finally relaxed, allowing him to reciprocate her hug. Dipping his head down, his cheek pressed to hers with his lips by her ear, he murmured, "'M here, love. Are y'alright?" 

"Yeah, why?" she bubbled, seemingly having wiped the stumble right out of her mind already.

It didn't take Harry's extra senses to notice the vodka on her breath, though he was sure he was the only one that could notice the sharp edge added to her scent from the alcohol. With how saturated it was, she hadn't just started her night at the club. That would at least explain why she had made sure to alert the man out front that her boyfriend (a silly title, but cute nonetheless) was on his way.

"No reason," he smiled, dropping his hands to sit on her waist, "Are y'having fun?" 

"I am! I'm so happy you're here now! I've been telling everyone that you were coming, and now you're here!" 

The glaze over her eyes was enough to draw Harry in, his lips curling into an amused smile. He'd never seen her anything past a bit tipsy. Drunk (Y/N) was a person he'd never met before.

Before he had a chance to offer any kind of response, using a surprising amount of her strength given her state, she pulled him along before presenting him to her friends. 

"Guys!" she bubbled, catching the attention of the rest of the women, "Look who's here!" 

One of the women looked decidedly more sober than the rest, though Harry could smell a tint of alcohol on her as well. She was the first to step forward, giving a small smile. 

"Harry, right?" she said, the ends of her short blonde hair dusting her collarbones, "(Y/N)'s been so excited to see you tonight." 

"As I've learned," he laughed, offering a hand out for her to shake, "And you are?" 

"Oh, I'm Charlotte! It's nice to meet you!" 

At that, the surrounding group made their own introductions with (Y/N) clinging to his side. He dedicated each name to memory, hoping that would help him pass the test that he was surely going through that night. Meeting her friends had been foiled before with the changes in weather keeping him stuck inside, or his insistence that (Y/N) live her life outside of him lest she feel trapped in the manor at his side. Tonight had been the first time everything had fallen into place: a girls' night with an open invitation after dinner. 

Shifting his arm around her shoulders, Harry pulled (Y/N) to his side as he guided her out of the way of those still dancing behind them. His features set pleasantly neutral, he looked towards Charlotte first. 

"(Y/N) told me your significant others might also be joining us tonight," he drawled, his version of asking of their whereabouts as he seemed to be the only boyfriend having shown up so far. 

"I'm not sure, actually," Charlotte mused, the evidence of her own drinking beginning to show. "I know my boyfriend will be here to pick me up later, but I haven't really heard anything about the other girls’. It might just be you, if that's okay." 

Feeling eyes on him, Harry glanced down at his side to see (Y/N) still gazing up at him with a dreamy smile on her lips. He hoped he didn't come off as rude when the sight distracted him as Charlotte spoke, taking a beat to reciprocate her look and keep her snug to his side. 

"I am okay with that. I hope 'm not intruding on your night then," Harry charmed, shooting his gaze around the room in search of a vacant booth or barstool, "Perhaps, I can find a free spot and let you all have fun without me interrupting." 

"No," (Y/N) piped up, "You have to stay with us now! I don't want you to go."

Her words are slightly slurred but her passion was clear enough. He didn't bother to look at what the rest of the women had to say, only worrying about  keeping the smile on his beloved face. "Okay, then I will stay, love. I will still try to find a table, though, so y'can sit with me for a little."

She was more than quelled by his answer, her body pliant against his own as if she were already ready for him to drag her wherever he wanted. 

"I don't know if anything is going to be open," Charlotte interjected, having heard his proposal over the music, "I've been hoping someone would move, but they've all been taken since we got here." 

"I'm sure I can make something work," Harry smiled, already spotting a booth he would prefer over the others, "We'll be right back." 

As soon as Harry stepped out of the small circle formed by their group with (Y/N) on his arm, it was closed up once more, though he could feel eyes pasted to his back watching where they went. Aware of her stumbling steps at his side, Harry took it slow as he escorted her towards a booth situated in the back corner, just out of view of the others. 

"I think people have—hic—they're already sitting there, H," (Y/N) murmured. 

"'S alright," he answered, tightening his hold on her hand, "I think they're about to leave." 

He didn't waste any time in reaching the group, a charming smile on his lips when he picked out the leader. An underdressed (in Harry's opinion) blonde man with a drink in hand seemed to be the center of attention, the first one to acknowledge Harry approaching. 

Before he could utter any kind of greeting, Harry took over the situation. "Hello," he smiled, "M'girlfriend and her friends would like to sit here, please." 

The man looked bewildered for a moment, unable to meet Harry's eyes. "Um—I'm sorry, but—" 

"No need to be sorry," Harry cut him off, voice taking on a quality he didn't utilize very often, but this was a special occasion, "You can find another space. Right?" 

As soon as the man met his eyes, Harry could tell the effects he wanted were taking place. It was all within the span of a heartbeat that this man took Harry's words as his own idea and nodded his head. 

"Yeah, we can find another spot," he relented, a faux cheer to his voice as he beckoned his friends to follow him out, "C'mon, guys, let's try the bar." 

There were a few questioning glances thrown to both the man as well as Harry, but no one questioned. Instead they only murmured amongst themselves as they followed their leader towards the bartop. As he led her into the now free vinyl seating, (Y/N) was one of the few that had a question in her eyes and pinch in her brows. 

"How did you do that?" she asked, her voice low under the music but still audible to Harry's ears, "Is that a vampire thing?" 

A breath of laughter fell from his lips at her words. "A little bit, yes. I don't like to do it often, but I want to make sure y'have somewhere to sit and relax while I get y'some water." 

"You're getting me water?" she questioned, thoroughly distracted at his new offer as if she didn't have a cup of half melted ice in her hand. 

"Mhm," he hummed, releasing her hand once she had tucked herself into the corner of the booth, "After I grab your friends, 'm getting y'some water before y'have any more fun." 

With the way she was looking at him, he would have figured he had proposed and offered diamonds and jewels to her, and not just a glass of water from the bar. This night was already going better than he'd thought. 

—————

"Did you guys know that Harry's a painter?! Like, he does huge murals and things all over the house! He's amazing." 

Only Charlotte seemed to catch (Y/N) words—the same declaration she had cheered about only ten minutes prior. She and Harry exchanged a small glance while the rest of the table treated this as new information. 

It'd been a long time since Harry had drank, and even longer since he'd been intoxicated to (Y/N)'s degree. Was short term memory something that was now lost when mixed with spirits, or was that just her? 

"Do you really?!" one of (Y/N)'s friends (Cecilia, maybe?) bubbled, her cup of ice water cradled in her hands as she leant over the table with wide eyes, "What kind of stuff do you paint?" 

"A little bit of everything," Harry answered, just as he had the last time a similar question was posed, "M'style has changed a lot over the last year or so. I can show you all some time if you'd like—'m sure (Y/N) would love to have you over to the manor." 

Even Charlotte perked up at this offer, looking to (Y/N) for confirmation. "That would be so much fun, (Y/N)! We could do that the next time we get together!" 

At that, Harry sat back while the chattering arose amongst the group. Under the table, his hand rested on (Y/N)'s thigh, the warmth of her skin anchoring him through the pumping music, strobing lights, and unfamiliar smells surrounding him. As much as he was aiming to leave a good first impression on her friends, he was still very much out of his element in the nightclub. He hoped (Y/N) would call for him to take her home sooner rather than later. 

As if she knew he had her on his mind, (Y/N) leant into his side, looking up at him with a toothy grin and affectionate eyes. The chattering was going strong on the other side of the table, the conversation sounding as if the women were making plans for their next outing together—one that would take place at the manor with bottles of wine and movies. 

"You'd really be alright with everyone coming over?" (Y/N) asked, moony eyes trained on his face. 

"Of course," he answered, a smile landing on his face on instinct, "It is your home too, petal. Y'can have your friends over as well—'s not jus' Mitch and Niall that are allowed over."

She curled into his side, her thigh under the table practically draped over his own. "Do you think Sarah would want to hang out with us?" 

The thought of Sarah playing around with a bunch of human girls was more amusing than he thought it would be. He wondered if that was how she and Mitch felt when they realized he was courting a human girl. 

"She might," he told her, keeping his amusement to himself, "I can ask for you." 

In an impossible feat, (Y/N) looked that much more in love with him at his offer. As much as he missed her regular scent without the sticky edge of alcohol, he did like just how tender she became—adoring his every and any move. 

"That would be so nice, H. Thank you," she told him earnestly, her hand coming to rest on his middle with his shirt in her grip, "You're the best ever, you know that?" 

"I have been told as much a few times." All by her, but that was a detail that he would leave out for the moment.

"Well," she pouted, "It's true. I'm so happy you came tonight. I think the girls really like you, too." 

"Yeah?" he smiled, hoping it was more than just her drunken tongue making the claim. 

"Mhm," she hummed, stretching to rest her head on his shoulder with a squeeze of her hand over his shoulder, "You're better than all of their boyfriends." 

At that, Harry couldn't help but to release the laugh building in his chest. While he understood the sentiment, that wasn't quite the impact he was going for. 

"You think so?" Harry questioned, unable to wipe his amusement from his voice. 

(Y/N) didn't seem to notice—or, most likely, care—responding with a definitive nod. "I know so." 

Another breathy laugh left his lips as he ducked his head, burying his nose in her hair. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Charlotte glancing their way; an adoring smile tugged at the corner of her mouth when she saw the way her friend clung to him. 

Taking in a lungful of (Y/N)'s scent, Harry decided that nightclubs weren't so bad. 

At least when (Y/N) was there.  

“Wait, (Y/N),” Cecilia babbled, a look of urgency on her face, “You said he cooks, right? You cook right?” 

Her attention was splashed over Harry then, forcing him to draw away from (Y/N)’s hair. Clearing his throat under the music, he nodded his head. “I do, yes.” 

A squeal fell from her lips with her companions being just as excited. “Would you make us food when we come over? (Y/N) says you’re so good!” 

Just as (Y/N) perked up at his side, turning her wide eyes on him, Harry stifled his own laugh. God, how he wished he had been a fly on the wall while she apparently spouted off all these facts about him—the ones reserved for her. 

“If you’d like.”

Just as he expected, more noise erupted from the table.

—————

thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please send in any fun ideas or requests you have!!