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homosexuality-at-its-finest · 3 years

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To love a hero

A/n: So I'm really sad right now and I'm gonna project that onto my writings, sorry in advance

Plot: Loving a hero is a difficult and heart wrenching task

Pairing: Peter parker x male reader

Y/n: Your name

L/n: Last name

N/n: Nickname

H/c: Hair color

Warnings: lotta angst, happy ending because I’m not a monster, cussing, major character injury

Word count: 1774

Y/n L/n and Peter Parker went way back, even farther than Peter and Ned. The two had been friends since Pre-K, and only grew closer as the years went by. The two were almost interpretable, if one of the boys was seen, the other was close by.

No one really understood their friendship, but no one questioned it either. In high school the two boys became impossibly closer, Y/n was the first to know about Peter’s abilities, the brunette couldn’t keep something so big from his best friend. Y/n was there and helped make his first suit, the boy was there to soothe his aching bones and to nurse his blossoming bruises.

The pair shared an unbreakable bond, they were what love stories depicted. The love between them was seen by everyone but the two. Of course, Peter knew he was in love with Y/n and vice versa, but for two genius’ they were both dumbasses. Hell, even Tony stark noticed the young love blossoming, the billionaire could see how much the pair adored each other.

On multiple occasions he’d tried to coerce the young superhero into admitting his feelings but was always given the same response.

“Y/n doesn’t like me like that Mr. Stark, I’m not ruining our friendship over my feelings.” Simple and to the point, but it drove Tony insane that the young genius was so fucking blind. He opted against bringing it up again after seeing such clear pain in Peter’s eyes every time they talked about it, being a bystander as time passed by.

Maybe Peter couldn’t see how enamored Y/n was with him, but Tony could. Especially as he clutched the said boy against his chest as he let out guttural and heart wrenching sobs.

It had all started off as a normal Saturday, Peter was over at Y/n’s the two sitting on the couch and watching some unknown movie, it was purely background noise. The two boys were to focused on each other and their conversation to care about the movie. The domestic peace was ruined by Peter’s phone chiming, a familiar sound that always caused dread to run down Y/n’s spine.

It was the sound of Peter’s police scanner, hearing the radio chatter begin. “Unknown entity in central park, currently creating a perimeter and pushing back civilians, backup requested.” The look of determination crossed over Peter’s features, and if Y/n knew Peter would listen, he’d beg for him to let the avengers take care of it.

“That’s my cue, I’ll see you later N/n!” Peter did a mock salute to his best friend, easily escaping the home via window. For some unknown reason Y/n felt on edge, his gut tightening painfully. He immediately flicked on the news, only having to wait a few moments before the familiar figure of spiderman flung into frame.

The fight was nerve wrecking, watching as the Villain and superhero alike exchanged punches and kicks, and Y/n knew Peter was probably making stupid quips to keep his anxiety under control. The H/c haired boy gnawed on his bottom lip as he watched the fight escalate, getting more violent by the second.

The villain had hit Peter with all their might, and Y/n could only watch as the boy he loved more than anything was flung against a building before he crumpled to the ground. It was as the world stood still, stealing all the breath from Y/n’s lungs as the figure of spiderman didn’t budge, he didn’t get up. Peter promised he’d always get back up.

He felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on, air was to thick to breathe and he could feel the moisture running down his face and the devastated cry that left his lips went unheard. The boy couldn’t really remember when Happy arrived at his house, a grim expression on his face as he looked at the disheveled teenager.

Y/n couldn’t remember the drive to the compound, it was as if his brain had just shut down, leaving him devoid of any life. Maybe that’s what Peter was like right now, devoid of life. His constant chatter silenced, his jittery movements stilled, his beautiful face pulled into the blank look of death.

The teenage boy could remember that Happy had to pull over so Y/n could vomit on the side of the road, silent sobs clenching his lungs in their vice. Never in all of his short life had he felt so much pain, never had he begged for the sweet release of darkness as he did now.

The H/c haired boy begged any god that would listen for this to be a nightmare, that he’d wake up and he and Peter would still be on the couch. The brunette would tease him for falling asleep, but he’d take anything to make this pain go away.

When he finally got to the compound and saw Tony waiting, the same grim look on his face as happy, it felt like every last shred of his strength and control was gone. Y/n collapsed into Tony’s arms, breaking into pieces. He only processed a few words “surgery” “critical” and “I’m so sorry.” Everything blended together as the billionaire led him to the medical wing, holding onto the breaking teenager, as if his touch would mend him.

Hours felt like eternity, it was hellish. The sobs that once left the teenager were turned into deafening silence, the occasional sniffle leaving the boy, comforting Tony that the child was in fact still alive.

May had shown up at some point, Y/n couldn’t honestly remember when, or honestly care. Not when he felt like part of himself was missing, leaving a gaping hole where Peter once was.

Good news came in the form of a doctor informing them, at hour 4 of waiting, that Peter had survived the surgery and was now stable. If it wasn’t for his healing factor, the teenager would’ve been dead. He was under sedatives currently, so his body could work solely on healing.

It felt like a weight off of everyone’s chest, he was okay, alive and breathing. The 3 walked in silence to Peter’s room, May and Y/n taking their respective sides on Peter, as Tony sat at the foot of the bed.

Hours were spent in silence, May haven fallen asleep not to long after receiving the news that Peter was okay. Tony and Y/n stayed awake, both lost in their own thoughts. The teenager held Peter’s hand, thumb brushing over his knuckles silently. His eyes rarely left the still form, scared that if he looked away the boy would disappear from his grasp.

“Yknow what sucks about loving a hero?” Y/n’s broken voice cut through the silence, starling Tony from his thoughts. He didn’t reply, his gaze falling on the teenager. Y/n looked over at Tony and fuck that look should never be on a child. He looked so broken, so tired.

“I know he’s going to die long before me, and I’ll be stuck in this fucked up world without him.” A humorless laugh broke through the boys’ lips, it sounded watery and oh so broken. “I’m not ready to live without him Tony.” A quiet sob left his lips, his free hand going to stifle it.

“I love him so much, and it scares me so fucking bad.” Y/n’s eyes moved back over to Peter, shakily bringing the sleeping boy’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. Tony felt his chest tighten painfully; this was really a reminder that they were just kids who grew up way to fast.

“He’s not going to die Y/n, not if I have anything to say about it.” Tony replied in a surprisingly gentle but determined tone. He’d be damned if he let this pair get separated, Peter and Y/n deserved to be together. To grow up together and create a life.

The room fell into silence after that, neither of them wanting to broach the topic again. In the early hours of the morning Peter’s doe like eyes opened once more. Every inch of his body ached with an indescribable pain, and he had to hold back a grimace. He was surprised to see the 3 most important people in his life strewn about the room, two fast asleep. Y/n was still awake though, clasping Peter’s hand like a lifeline has his tired eyes burned into the sheets.

Peter gave his best friends hand a gentle squeeze, but it was enough for the boy’s head to shoot up so fast Peter was scared he’d get whiplash. “Peter! Oh, thank God.” The H/c haired boy breathed out, and even through his eyes were red and puffy from tears and purple bags so dark they looked like bruises bloomed under his eyes, he was still the most gorgeous creature Peter had ever seen.

Peter gave a weak smile, squeezing his hand once more. “How long have I been out?” He questioned; head tipped to the side like a curious puppy. “About 12 hours.” Y/n replied, voice cracking slightly.

The gentle aura Y/n held around him quickly disappeared into one of anger. “If you ever do that to me again Peter I swear to God, I’ll kill you myself.” Y/n spit out angrily, but the anger was gone as fast as it had appeared.

“I thought you died, and that was the most painful thing I have ever experienced. I love you, and I’d rather you be with the land of the living.” The confession was made by a boy to tired to process he had said it.

Peter felt a wave of guilt crash over him at the boy’s confession. He knew now wasn’t the time to talk on the subject. “I’m okay N/n and trust me I won’t be doing that again any time soon. Why don’t we sleep and talk again in the morning?”

Peter was exhausted, and he knew his best friend was too, they could talk about this at a later date. As Y/n made a sound of agreement, laying his head against the mattress, Peter knew that everything would be okay. It didn’t matter what horrors he faced, or what pain he went through. He had made a promise to Y/n. He’d get up every time, and he’d be damned if he ever made the Boy he loved go through that pain again.

#marvel #avengers #Peter parker #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x you #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x male reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x male reader #LISTEN IM DEPRESSED

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stargazer-sims · 2 years

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19 - Zahir and Dylan

"Are we ready for this?"

Dylan gazes across the café table at his husband. They haven't said anything to each other in the last five minutes, but despite there being no thread of conversation, Dylan doesn't need to ask what Zahir is talking about. Zahir has that look on his face that he always gets when he's thinking hard about something; a distracted frown and a crease between his brows.

"It's a little too late to ask that question now, don't you think?" Dylan says. "I mean, we had the procedure yesterday."

Dylan still can't get over how easy the whole thing had been. He'd been preparing himself mentally for a major production, but the implantation procedure had actually turned out to be quick and straightforward. He and Zahir had arrived at the clinic for his appointment at two in the afternoon, and they were home again by half-past four. By five, Dylan was tucked into bed and sleeping like a rock, inexplicably exhausted, but largely unharmed as far as he could tell.

At the clinic, one of the staff had gotten Dylan settled in a room that didn't look all that different from a regular hospital room. They let Zahir help him undress and change into a thing like a backwards hospital gown that closed in the front, and then they'd given him a light sedative. Once the drugs had kicked in and he was way more chilled out than he'd ever been in his life, someone else came along to escort him to the room where the procedure would be performed.

Zahir was allowed to stay with him the entire time, and the local anesthetic Dr. Zira gave him made it so he could barely move the lower half of his body and couldn't feel a thing. The nurse put up some sort of curtain — Zahir said it was called a surgical drape — and they were both spared having to witness Dr. Zira inserting a needle into Dylan's stomach. Zahir stroked his hair and sang quietly to him and generally tried to keep him distracted, although Dylan suspected it was more to calm himself. Dylan was so mellow at that point, he couldn't have cared less what the doctor was doing to him.

No more than twenty minutes later, Dylan was back in his little room, resting and waiting for the drugs to wear off enough to satisfy Dr. Zira that it was okay for Zahir to take him home.

"I still can't believe you're not experiencing anything they said you would," Zahir says. "It's been twenty-four hours. Do you think this means it didn't work?"

"No." Dylan takes a bite of cake that undoubtedly qualifies as impolite. Around the mouthful, he says, "It's literally been less than twenty-four hours, Zahir. I think it's too soon to tell if it worked or not."

"Are you sure you're not feeling ill or anything? No fever or fatigue or pains in your belly?"

"You know I was feeling tired right after they did it, but the only pain in my stomach was from being absolutely freakin' starving this morning, after not being allowed to eat all day yesterday. I'm still mad that I couldn't find a place to order a pizza before eleven o'clock in the morning."

"If you're like this now, what are you going to be like when the pregnancy cravings start?" Zahir teases.

"I'll be super extra mad when I can't get a takeaway pizza before eleven in the morning," Dylan tells him. "And to answer your other question, I think we're ready. If we're not ready now, we're never going to be. Obviously, there's gonna be a huge learning curve, so I guess we're not prepared in the technical sense, but emotionally and physically and financially, I know we've got this."

"If you're confident..."

"You know what your problem is? You worry too much about everything," Dylan says. "You gotta be more Zen."

Zahir laughs. "You know this is why you're the one who's having the baby, right? I'd be a wreck if it were me."

"I know," Dylan says. "Me? I just roll with whatever."

"I'm glad you do," Zahir says.

Dylan smiles around another bite of cake. "You need my calming influence."

"I do," Zahir concedes.

"We balance each other, 'cause I need your organizational skills. Imagine what a mess I'd be without you."

"You're still a mess, even with me." Zahir picks up his napkin, reaches across the small table and wipes a bit of icing off Dylan's face. "Honestly, Dylan. Why are you like this?"

Dylan catches Zahir's hand before he can pull it back. "Are you complaining?"

"How did you even get frosting on you, that far from your mouth?"

"It's a talent," Dylan says. "This cake is awesome, by the way."

"I suppose it wouldn't do any good for me to remind you that you're going to have to start eating healthier after this. No more lunches that are just cake, coffee and soft drinks."

"You're not going to try to talk me into eating celery or something, are you? Also, just so you know, pizza covers all four of the major food groups, so it's technically healthy. Even if you won't let me have cake, you can't say no to pizza."

"Well, I could, but I'm afraid you'd make me sleep on the sofa if I tried."

Dylan tilts his head, pretending to think this over. "Tough choice there," he says. "Pizza, or sleeping in the same bed as my fabulously sexy husband. I choose... pizza."

Zahir groans. "That's it. We're getting a divorce."

Dylan laughs out loud. "You dumbass. You know I love you way more than pizza. Besides, who's going to sing me to sleep if you're downstairs on the sofa? I'd have to come down there and try to sleep with you."

"I don't think that'd work very well."

"Yeah, 'cause my wide butt wasn't made for sleeping on narrow couches. So, of course I'm going to choose you over pizza, because I want my big comfy bed and I want you in it," Dylan says. "But, I still want a little pizza on the side."

Zahir shakes his head. "How did I end up married to such an adorable idiot?"

"It's your own fault. You were the one who asked me, remember? And then we did that big thing where your family had to meet me and give their approval and stuff. I felt like maybe I was marrying them, too. Remember how your grandmother was super confused, and she was all, 'Zahir, your girlfriend looks like a man'. I nearly hurt myself trying not to laugh."

"Wait until she hears you're pregnant," Zahir says.

"I'm not officially pregnant yet," Dylan reminds him. "We still have to wait ten days and then go for the scan or whatever, to see for sure if the implants worked or not."

"Are you hoping both of them will work?"

"Oh, hell no," Dylan says. "I'm cool with one baby, but I think I'd struggle with two. We could manage two somehow, but I'll be more than satisfied with just one. Anyway, we shouldn't worry about it too much. You remember what Dr. Zira said. If one implants, the other usually doesn't."

"Right," Zahir says. "We shouldn't tell anyone anything until after we get all the results from your scan, I guess."

"Yeah, I think it'd be best to wait," Dylan agrees. "Just in case it doesn't work at all, although I'm positive it's going to. After we know, then we can tell your grandmother and everyone else in our families."

"My grandmother's reaction is going to be priceless, I think."

"I almost want to go for a visit and tell her in person, just to see," says Dylan. "That's probably kind of mean, though, isn't it? Laughing at an old lady's expense."

"Probably most of my family won’t really believe it," says Zahir. "Even if we show them the images from your first scan when the time comes, I doubt they'll be convinced. I think they're actually going to have to see you with a belly."

"You mean, with more of a belly than I have now? It might be a while before anybody believes it, if that's the only thing they're going by," Dylan says. "On the plus side, I might get to avoid a few awkward conversations with people at work for a while. Those nerds have no filters."

"I thought you were going to start working from home."

"Only if I don't feel good. Like, I'm totally not interested in puking in the men's room at the office every morning. If I'm going to lose my breakfast, I'd rather not do it in a public washroom. Oh, and let's not forget the potential dizziness and fainting. Passing out at work? No thanks."

"Fair enough," Zahir says. "No tough guy stuff, though, okay? If you aren't feeling well, I really want you to stay home too."

"Since when have I ever tried to be a tough guy when I'm sick? The first time I have even a hint of an upset stomach in the morning, I'm exercising my option to do remote work. And then I'm gonna put on my dragon onesie and lie in bed with my laptop like the lazy person I am, and be super whiny and dramatic about how terrible I feel.”

"I’m still waiting for the day when I see you get dramatic over anything,” Zahir remarks. “Also, you’re the only adult I know who can unironically wear a onesie."

"Dude, I was built for clothing without waistbands. Overalls, onesies, bathrobes... you know. I'm legitimately going to use pregnancy as an excuse to dress like a slob. It's gonna be great."

Zahir gives him an amused look. "I'm glad you're taking this so well."

"I'm ready for it, like I said," Dylan says. "Anyway, what's the point in being stressed out? Whatever is going to happen, will happen. I don't think we'll have too many problems, but if we do, we'll deal with them as they come up."

"We should plan ahead a little bit, though," says Zahir.

"Yeah, of course we're going to plan stuff. There's still a lot to figure out, but none of it is urgent and none of it is worth losing sleep over."

"I doubt anybody else is handling this as well as you."

"What do you mean, anybody else?" Dylan asks. "Who else is there, besides you and me?"

"No, I didn't mean who's handling it better between the two of us," says Zahir. "Obviously, that’s you. But, I was thinking about the support group. Do you think any of the others are as calm as you?"

Dylan shrugs. "No idea, but I guess we'll find out tomorrow."

"If you're feeling up to it."

"There's no reason to think I won't be," Dylan says. "I'm completely fine right now. If I was going to have any of the side effects the doctor said I'd have, I think I'd have them by now, so I'm sure it'll be all good."

"Are you nervous about meeting the other people in the group?"

"Not really. Are you?"

"A little bit," Zahir admits. "I just keep imagining what they’ll be like. I wonder what sort of people decide to have this procedure."

"You mean, besides fat, nerdy white dudes and their smokin' hot partners?"

Zahir makes an undignified snorting sound while trying to suppress a laugh. "Do you ever take anything seriously?"

"You know I do," Dylan says. "I take this very seriously. I just have a philosophical objection to being boring, that's all."

"My love, you will never be boring."

Even after all the years they've been together, Dylan still melts a little every time Zahir calls him 'my love'. He recalls the first time, lying on a beach on the island of Sulani during spring break of their final year of university. They'd already been seeing each other for nearly three years at that point. Dylan knew he was in love with Zahir only a few months after they'd met, but it'd evidently taken Zahir a bit longer to come to the realization that he loved Dylan, and longer still for the typically reserved Zahir to say so out loud. When he finally did, though, Dylan felt it'd been absolutely worth waiting for.

Later that year, during Winterfest, Zahir asked Dylan to marry him. Dylan didn't hesitate to say yes. They had a long engagement, but they'd wanted their wedding to be perfect, and for that, they'd needed to save money. In March of the year they were both turning twenty-five, they returned to Sulani to say their vows on that same golden beach, with their families and close friends looking on.

Dylan marvels at the fact that they celebrated their eighth anniversary only a few months ago. Everything about their relationship is astounding to him, if he stops and thinks about it. Sometimes he's still shocked that of all the people Zahir could've had, he's the one Zahir ended up with. Beautiful, posh, sexy, talented Zahir had all the choice in the world, and he chose the chubby geek from the trailer park with no grace or sense of style.

But, if he's learned anything at all from being with Zahir, it's that real love goes deeper than what's on the surface. To outsiders, he supposes that he and Zahir couldn't possibly appear any more different, and a lot of people likely look at them and try to figure out how they even got together. The truth that he and Zahir know is that they're connected on a level that transcends social or economic class, cultural background, upbringing, or any of their physical characteristics. They understand each other in ways that no one else ever could, and they have similar views on humanity and the world. They have shared goals, and they recognize that each of them needs the other's support to reach those goals.

They are a team. Dylan never wants that to change.

"You know something?" Dylan says. "I feel like the luckiest person in the universe right now."

"Oh?" says Zahir. "Because of the baby?"

"Because of you," Dylan says. "There wouldn't be the slightest chance of a baby without you. But, even if this doesn't work, even if we never have kids at all, you'll still be here."

Zahir smiles. "You know how some people are always asking their partner for reassurance that they'll be with them forever, no matter what? I love that you never do that."

"I don't need to do that. You're not going anywhere. I know you care about me too much to leave me, regardless of what's going on in our lives."

"You are the most amazing person," Zahir says. "I hope you know that, too."

Dylan feels himself blushing at this praise. "I guess it's a matter of perspective."

"Well, from my perspective, you're brave and confident and a lot stronger than I would be in this situation.”

"Because I've got you beside me," Dylan says. "We're doing this together."

"Absolutely," says Zahir. "Every step of the way."

"I wonder if the other people in our group can say that?"

"I don't know," Zahir says. "I hope so. I can't begin to imagine making this huge a decision without knowing your partner is with you one hundred percent, but then again, not everyone is like us. Maybe some people are okay with taking extreme risks."

"I hate to think what their futures will look like."

"Then, try not to," Zahir says. "Let's just focus on ours. We've got enough to do on our own. Everyone else can sort themselves out.

#ts4 #sims 4 #eagames #newcrest #Dylan Middleton #Zahir Omar #aucieletoile side plot #stargazersims #aucieletoile #aucieletoile1

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babyurthendofjune · 4 years

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gotta get better

gif credit

This concept has been in my head for a while now and it took me like a month to write and edit and just get it all out! I had surgery two years ago today and it was one of the most emotional, stressful experiences of my life simply bc I’m just a big baby lol. This is just something to celebrate that day and the fact that I’m still so happy it’s all over! Fluffy af as usual cause that’s all I know how to write. :)

Thankful to @bfharry and @bopbopstyles for not only inspiring me with their amazing writing but pushing me towards finishing this and reaching (even going over) my personal 5k goal! I appreciate you both so much!!

I recently saw a post about tagging triggers properly so I’m gonna do it that way but if I do it wrong or it doesn’t work PLEASE let me know and I will fix it immediately (just want to be sure all my bases are covered)

// needles tw, pills tw (prescription), anxiety tw // (if I missed anything I should’ve tagged please please let me know!!) and I’m sure there are some medical inaccuracies bc that whole day is kind of a blur for me haha

as always likes/rbs/comments are welcome but absolutely not necessary :)

final word count: 7.1k

"Y'nervous, angel?"

"Hmm?"

"Bout to chew your finger off. I know there can't be much of a nail left."

Your hand drops back to your lap. You hadn't even realized you were doing it. A bad habit of the nervous child you thought you'd long forgotten. He offers his left hand and you accept it, thumb swiping over the cross painted across his skin. He knows it's one of your favorites and you're thankful for the comfort. You don't know how many times he'd teased you about how you would eventually rub it off one day and he'd have to get it redone.

"S'a routine surgery, I bet they do them all day. You're gonna be fine."

You'd been over all this a thousand times before. Harry had to ban you from looking up the procedure online at one point. You became obsessive with worry. What if you're still awake when they cut into you and you can't talk? What if you feel everything and can't tell anyone? What if you don't wake up? He had shot down every one of your horrifying theories.

"How much longer before they take me back?"

"Nurse said it would be about 10 minutes when we checked in. Shouldn't be too much longer. Want me to check the board again?"

Checking in had only consisted of a nurse taking your name and giving you your bracelet for the day with an ID number. The number would help Harry stay updated on where you were throughout the whole process. The "board" was simply a tv mounted to the wall that frequently cycled through each patient's last name and ID number.

"No, no," You cling to his sleeve like a desperate child, "Don't leave again. She said they wouldn't update anything until I went back anyway."

Harry had left you only briefly when you first arrived. Hands in his pockets, wandering around like a lost child around the big, open expanse of the waiting room. He stayed where you could see him and the whole time you had anxiously chewed your bottom lip until he returned. You hated it, but you knew he was just as nervous as you. So you let him have that moment. To check his surroundings and release some of the nerves so he could come back to you, calm and cool as always.

When the nurse does call your name, you almost jump out of your skin. You freeze, unable to move. Harry stands and flashes the nurse a quick smile before turning back to you and offering his hand.

You shake your head, "I can't do this, H. I feel like I'm gonna throw up if I move."

"You're not, promise. Remember those breathing exercises we practiced? Do those. C'mon..deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out. Do it while we walk."

Slow deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out.

You remember how silly you felt the first time you did it. How it made you giggle at first. This is never going to work. But eventually it did. Anytime you got upset or started to overthink about this day, Harry made you stop whatever you were doing and sit down. Breathe.

It was a little difficult to do while walking. Your body wanted to pause your steps when your breath paused, but Harry tugged you along, you almost hiding behind him until you made it through a set of heavy wooden doors to a small space with a hospital bed and a curtain drawn in front of it.

The IV had had been your biggest dread, the fear overriding any logic that it was something you needed, instead of something the nurses decided to do simply to torture you.

Your face twists into a wince of pain when the needle goes into your vein, Harry standing over you, his face a mirror of your own as you squeeze his hand. When the nurse pulls away with a triumphant "all done!" you flash a look of surprise between your arm and Harry.

"Not that bad, eh? Think ya overreacted a bit about how bad that was gonna be?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to shoot him a nasty look for teasing you.

"Maybe a little." You pinch your index finger and thumb together, indicating a minimal amount.

"Tiny bit more, babe," Another nurse appears from around the curtain and he laughs before speaking to her, "it's all she's worried about all morning."

"Honestly that's everyone's least favorite part. The rest of the day should be aces if you can handle that!"

Harry settles himself into a chair while the nurse goes through a myriad of questions. Any other surgeries? Allergies to medications you know of? Do you smoke? Drink?

Harry snorts when you say no to drinking, but quickly clasps his hand over his mouth when the nurse's head snaps to look between you and him.

"The occasional drink is fine, no worries. Nothing this morning though, right?"

"No, ma'am."

Your eyes meet his, a mischievous grin still plastered across his face. He mumbles a quick "sorry" while you try to pull your concentration back towards the nurse and the remainder of her questions.

"Alright, time for the good stuff," she passes you a small clear cup with two white pills, "First one is just something to keep you calm and relaxed, second one is to prevent any pain after the procedure. They'll give you something to make you sleepy when you get to the OR, but this might make you a bit loopy for now."

"This should be fun." Harry claps his hand in front of him, rubbing them together quickly. He leans forward in his chair, as if ready for a show.

"Yeah? Is she a happy drunk?"

Harry had only ever experienced you high on any sort of prescription medication once, almost a year ago when you went on a girl's trip with your best friend and twisted your ankle in an attempt to make it back to her car after dinner out one night. You calling him from an unknown ER in the middle of the night had terrified him enough to start packing a bag to fly to you before your best friend could grab your phone and assure him you were fine and she would put you on a plane home to him in two days as planned. He had teased you endlessly when he picked you up from the airport and for the next few days afterwards as you limped around on a bruised, ACE bandage wrapped foot.

But after too many wine drunk nights to count, he had enough stories to humiliate you with and the thought of any one of them being told now had you sinking further into the hospital bed.

"You could say that. Last time she.." His voice trails off at the sight of your eyes, wide as saucers, begging him to stop.

The nurse grins, her face kind and sympathetic to your silent cry for help.

"We're a little behind schedule this morning so it may be about 20 minutes before they come transport you, okay?" You nod, the effects of the sedative already working its way through your system, "Keep an eye on her? Make sure she behaves?"

"Yeah, I got her. We'll be fine, thank you so much." He's closer now, standing next to you again, a hand sliding up your arm to settle on your shoulder. You manage a thumbs up and a sleepy "thank you" as an affirmation that you appreciate all she's done for you.

"You're more than welcome. You'll have a different set of nurses in recovery but if you need anything until they come get you, just let me know, alright?"

"We will, thanks." His thumb ghosts across the front of your collarbone, the lightest of touches to soothe you, his eyes still focused on the nurse.

"Good luck! You're gonna do just fine, I promise."

The second she's around the curtain, Harry nudges you lightly, "Scoot."

"Huh? What do you mean..Harry, there's not enough room for you in this bed." Your head feels too light to deal with his nonsense now.

"Yeah there is if you scoot. C'mon. Hurry before we get caught. M’supposed to be keeping an eye on you, remember? Gotta make sure you don't fall outta the bed."

He's already wedged himself next to you, trying to make his tall frame fit into the limited space.

You move over as much as you can, the rail of the bed poking into your hip.

He tucks one arm behind your head, the other one thrown behind his own as a cushion.

"You feel more relaxed now, lovie?"

You scrunch down in the bed, just enough that you can tuck your head under his other arm, "A little. I don't feel sleepy enough though," Your eyes dart up, seeking the comfort of his face, "I'm scared, H."

"I know you are, baby," the hand behind your head shifts to cup around your arm, pulling you closer, "Just pretend you're home with me and we're taking a nice little nap together, yeah?"

"But you won't be there with me, not really."

"I'll be there when you wake up though. First thing you'll see when you open your eyes, promise." He runs a finger along the curve of your nose, "Close your eyes. Try to sleep, hmm?"

You shake your head, turning towards him to hide your face in his side, inhaling his scent.

"Want me to turn the light off? Would that help?"

"No," You toss the arm that isn't trapped between you two over him, holding tightly to his shirt, "Stay."

"Alright, then. We'll just wait," He tilts his head to rest closer to yours, "Have you thought about what you want to eat after?"

"Not really. M'too nervous to think about food."

"We'll think of something good. Whatever you want."

"You're gonna get us in trouble, better scoot back to your corner like a good boy." Your words come out unintentionally slurred and you weakly push yourself up and away from him as he slides off. He doesn't sit though, just stands near you, an anxious look flashing across his features.

"Hey, c'mere. Gonna be fine, routine surgery, remember?" You stretch your arms out to him, a plea to be near his warmth again.

He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. You tug lightly at the sleeve of his cardigan, a feeble attempt to pull him closer. He indulges you, his brow still creased with distress.

"Know ya gonna be fine, just hate you have to go through it at all. Wish I could take it from you without all this." He gestures to the IV he knows you despise so much.

"You have helped take it from me. All the sleepless nights you spent up with me, holding my hair back when I got sick. All the days after when I was too drained to get out of bed. You were there for as much of it as you could be. And you pushed me to go see the surgeon in the first place. You've helped me more than you give yourself credit for."

His fingers intertwine in yours, the pad of his thumb soothing over the front of your hand.

"Make sure you keep my phone with you, my mom will probably call you every 30 minutes for updates." A yawn stretches across your face, "She has your number too, bullied me into giving it to her last week when I called to tell her about the surgery."

He nods, patting his pocket to make sure both phones are still nestled there together.

Another yawn threatens to escape and you muffle it this time, more content to fight sleep to stare at Harry; his hair a perfect mess of curls under the harsh brightness of the hospital lighting. His face is more relaxed now, his eyes still focused on your fingers tangled together. He catches you, your eyes glazed over, too heavy and threatening to close.

"Darling, please close your eyes. I can see how tired you are," His fingertips sweep delicately over your nose again, as if he was lulling a baby to sleep, "You don't have to stay awake for me."

"Closing my eyes for just a second, alright? Not because you told me to though. I want to. Wake me up in 2 hours, don't wanna sleep too long."

Your eyes are already drifting closed, the last thing you hear is a chuckle; effortless, light as air, "I will, promise."

Soft kisses pressed across your face, "Sweet dreams, love."

His voice is the first you hear as you wake up in the dimly lit recovery room. Well, really it was more like a big cubicle, another space with a curtain drawn in front of it. Even with the floaty, dreamy feeling flowing through your system, you can still detect the worry in his voice.

"Harry?" It takes your mind a minute to catch up and process where you are and what had happened.

Oh yeah. Surgery day. No more annoying gallbladder. No more sleepless nights. Freedom to eat what you want and not be haunted by nausea and sickness from what you ate.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?" Suddenly a nurse in bright blue scrubs is there, way too animated and loud at the moment, "Pain scale 1-10?"

"I don't have any pain. Zero." You're aware of how high you sound and a giggle escapes through the haze. That earns you a smile from Harry, one that lights up his whole face and makes his dimples shine through.

"Awesome! Well then as soon as you're good and awake we're gonna get this IV out and go over some paperwork for both of you to sign. I want you to drink something for me too, so what would you like?"

You request a ginger ale and as soon as the nurse leaves to retrieve it for you, Harry scoots the chair he's sitting in as close to the bed as possible.

"How long was I out?"

"Couple of hours," He absentmindedly fixes your hair, looping various curls back around to their respective places, "Took a little longer than expected, you had a small infection so they had to make sure it hadn't spread."

"How much longer?"

"Long enough you had us all slightly worried." His hand trails down your cheek to cup your chin gently, urging you to look at him, "You sure you're not in pain? Now's not the time to do that stubbornly brave thing you do where you pretend nothing's wrong."

"I feel fine, really. Just a little tired, ready to go home."

He studies your face, trying to find any trace of dishonesty. When he's satisfied you're being truthful, he stands and extracts your phone from his pocket.

"Already talked to ya mum, but your co-workers were all texting you, asking how you were. Figured you'd want to handle that yourself, didn't know how much detail you would want to give them."

"Did you give my mother all the details? Infection and everything?"

"Um, no. I knew better than to do that. Promised her you would call when I got you settled at home."

"You promised or she demanded?"

"Okay..she politely asked that you call her when we get home."

"That sounds more like her." You roll your eyes, pushing yourself so you're sitting more upright in the bed.

"She just worries about you." He adjusts the pillow behind you, fluffing and tucking it where you direct it, against your lower back.

"I know. I'll FaceTime her when we get home to prove I'm alive."

"It's been a while since we've seen them, maybe we should plan a visit?" He plops himself back in the chair, leaning back as far as he can go; hands behind his head, eyes closed. You'd both gotten very little sleep the night before, you were too anxious and he was too gracious to let you suffer alone.

"Oh please, I'm lucky I even got time off to do this. My boss would never allow another break so soon."

"Maybe for the holidays?"

"Maybe..but only if you can go with me, you know they love you more than me by now anyway."

"They do not," He peeks one eye open at you, "They love us both equally."

You shoot a quick text to your co-workers, using the group chat between the few of you to make it easier.

I'm out! Feeling okay for now but that might change later lol

The nurse is back, apologizing for taking so long, "We've been so behind all day, it's crazy busy. I had to wait for your doctor to sign off on your release." She hands you a can of ginger ale, white bendy straw already poised and ready for you.

"Just need you to sign here," She holds a clipboard and a pen out to you and you balance the can dangerously in one hand while you scribble something that resembles your signature. Close enough. She gestures for you to pass the clipboard to Harry, "His signature goes under yours, just says he's responsible for you for the next few hours until everything wears off."

"This means I'm the boss, right?" He leans over to grab the board, a wink thrown in your direction. He's enjoying himself way too much at the thought of being in control of you for the next few hours. Smug son of a bitch.

She takes the clipboard back and pulls off a yellow sheet of paper, "This is just your copy of what you signed, and also has post op instructions for your bandages. Your prescription's been sent to the pharmacy, and there's a brief summary of pain management information on the bottom there just in case you need it."

"Thank you." You transfer it right to Harry's waiting hand, knowing he'll be the one surveying every word, making sure you follow everything to the letter.

"I know you mentioned earlier having a little bit of a drive home, so probably once you get her some food and pick up her prescriptions, it'll be time for another round of meds. Okay?" She turns to you again, "I know it sounds silly, but one of the most important things after this particular surgery is lots of walking. Otherwise you'll be miserable. Rest for a while when you get home, then get up every 10 minutes or so until bedtime. Don't let her skip that part, alright? Very important."

"I heard you weren't a big fan of this thing," She nods towards the IV in your right forearm, "So this'll probably be the best part of this whole process for you. We'll get this out and then you can get changed and we'll get someone to wheel you down and out of here, alright? Don't look and you won't even know when it's gone."

"Hey, think about what you want to eat, huh? Your first freedom meal. Yay!" He slips his hand into your left, raising your connected hands victoriously. You didn't think it was possible for you to love him anymore until this moment. The way he could so easily erase your fear was one of his many gifts you adored him for, "What are we having, babe?"

You don't even hesitate before answering, "Pizza, from Milano's. It's my favorite, other than that one place in Italy you took me to. Please? Oh and one of their salads, with the little bread knots on the side!"

He glances at the nurse, awaiting a reprimand for your meal choice.

"As your nurse, I feel I should remind you that while you can have anything you feel like eating, we usually recommend something small and light at first. Broth or soup with some toast, maybe. The salad may be fine, but the pizza might be a little heavy. Taking it slow would be best. But everyone is different."

"So..just cheese then? Maybe some mushrooms?"

You let your head fall back against the pillow, a foggy haze settling over you, "Plain cheese, no mushrooms."

"Alright, sounds good. Why don't I go call it in and pull the car around? Meet you out front?" He leans closer, a quick peck to your cheek before pulling his hand loose from yours and turning to leave.

"Hey, wait," You attempt to tug at his wrist, but fail, your brain still set to slow-motion. He takes pity on you and returns to your side, "Let's eat there. It's in the mall so we can window shop after we eat."

"You sure? You still seem a bit tipsy, honey."

You don't feel tipsy. Just tired, and hungry. Very hungry. As if on cue, your stomach makes a remarkably loud noise; an objection at not being fed for the past 12 hours.

"Alright, alright, calm down. " You let out an embarrassed groan when you realize he's talking to your stomach, "We'll eat there."

He kisses you again, closer to your mouth, "Missed."

"I did, huh?" He chuckles, close enough to your face now your noses are almost touching, "Let's try again."

This time his lips meet yours and you know he missed on purpose the first time by how amused he looks when he pulls away.

"One more for luck?" You can't resist letting the back of your hand wander over his face, before resting the palm of your hand against his cheek.

"I think I can handle that," He smiles before landing another quick peck to your lips, "Be good for the nurse while I'm gone. I'll have the getaway car ready in 10, yeah?"

You're certain Harry would have fed you if you would have let him, right here in the mall food court in front of everyone. But you refuse, insisting even, on carrying your own tray to the table. He chuckles when you pull your phone out of your sweater pocket to take a picture of your food, quickly uploading it to Facebook.

He watches you closely as you take the first bite, even pulling his own phone out to sneak a photo of you when you temporarily close your eyes to appreciate the indulgence of being able to eat one of your favorite foods again; free from that anxious feeling of whether or not it would settle right with your body later. You open your eyes the very moment after he captured the image.

"Harry!"

"You just looked so happy! I couldn't help it. You know I'll never post it anyway. Snagged a few of you earlier in your little blue cap they made you wear too." He flips back through to show you. You try to snatch the phone away, but he's too quick to pull his hand back and stash his phone in his pocket.

"When??"

"After you fell asleep, right before they came to take you back."

He takes a bite from his own generous slice of pizza in front of him before gesturing to your tray, "How is it?"

"Amazing. Even better than before, if possible."

His smile is bright, loving the satisfaction of seeing you actually enjoy food again.

Your plan to walk around the mall was cut short, you could barely make it through one store without yawning. You cling to Harry most of the way back to the car, his arm securely wrapped around you to keep you steady.

You doze off on the drive home, and when your eyes flutter open you find him opening the passenger door, offering a hand to help lift you out of the car and up the stairs into the house. Your foot stumbles on the first step, failing to make contact and you almost fall back.

"Easy," He giggles, an arm thrown behind your back to catch you before encouraging softly, "Try again."

When he's confident you're stable enough on your feet, he lets go to unlock the door.

You're greeted by a bouquet of flowers, a colorful arrangement of roses and lilies from Harry's band mates. You immediately recognize Sarah's handwriting on the card and make a mental note to shoot everyone a thank you text later. You don't know if it's the medication still in your system, the exhaustion of the day, or the overwhelming amount of love that makes you teary eyed.

Harry stands behind you as you admire the flowers and the card, arms curving around to hug you, careful of the large bandage on your upper abdomen and the two smaller steri-strips on your right side.

"How did they know pink roses were my favorite?"

"They love you, peach." He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Besides, you've only mentioned growing up with a pink rose bush in your Nanna's garden about a hundred times."

"I always loved it. Still do."

Your mind travels back to your earliest memories spent there; summers when you practically lived at the small house on the hill. Helping pick tomatoes and peppers from the garden, too warm afternoons spent with a book in your lap under the shade of a peach tree, your grandfather's corny jokes and loving smile. Your Nanna's too generous portions of food contributing to the few extra curves you still carried with you to this day.

You don't even notice the tears at first. They slip down your cheeks and land on his arm. Once you realize, you try to quickly wipe them away, but Harry sees.

"Hey..c'mon, I think your high's wearing off a bit, bub. Pajamas, meds, nap. Sound good?" He turns you to face him, using the sleeve of his shirt to brush away any tears that still linger at the corner of your eyes.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 3..why?"

"No nap. I'll never sleep tonight, and you know how grumpy I get when my sleep schedule is thrown off." Even with your declaration of not wanting a nap, you can't help but rub your eyes, a weak attempt to keep yourself awake. Any resolve Harry had to try to convince you to nap melts away. A smirk on his face, he knows you'll eventually crash later, most likely on his chest or in his arms. He's content to let you be stubborn for now.

"Okay, then. New plan. Pajamas, meds, movie. Better?"

"Better. You get everything ready and pick the movie while I change?"

"You don't wanna pick the movie?"

You wave him off, already shuffling towards the bedroom, "You're the boss today, remember?"

You take your time gathering what you need to get cozy for the rest of the day, selecting an oversized, well-worn tie dye t-shirt and leggings from your dresser. You even take a moment to dip into Harry's extensive sweatshirt collection, grabbing your favorite one. It's amazingly soft and still smells of him, a faint scent of his cologne and well..just Harry. You couldn't imagine anything more comforting.

In your pursuit to feel more lucid, you venture into the bathroom, taking a moment to wash your face. The cool water instantly refreshes you and pushes you closer to feeling like yourself again. Wanting your hair out of your face, you pluck a scrunchy from your shared collection of hair accessories. You quickly recognize that your arms still have that too heavy feeling of unconsciousness and after a few attempts to gather your curls into some sort of up-do, you give up and loop the accessory around your wrist to try again later.

Harry senses your frustration when you find him in the kitchen, two small green pill bottles sitting on the counter in front of him. He's already filled your favorite cup with ice water, and you gratefully take it and drink from it.

"What's wrong?" His brow creases with concern and you feel guilty for making him worry over something so silly.

"Nothing..just wanted my hair up out of my face but my arms wouldn't cooperate." You try to laugh it off to put him more at ease, "It's not a big deal."

You know it's only the weariness of the day still making you feel so emotional, clear-headed you would not be upset over something so small.

"Here. Let me try." He slides the scrunchy from your wrist and pulls you closer to him, moving behind you to gently work long fingers through your hair, gathering it all in a loose ponytail on top of your head before securing it around a few times with the scrunchy.

You let your shoulders drop with a deep sigh when he's done, it was such a simple thing, but it made you feel so much lighter. He spins you around to face him, a charming gleam of pride at his handiwork adorning his face, "Too tight?"

"No. Much better. Thank you, Harry. You take such good care of me always, but today..I don't know what I would've done without you. I made such a big fuss and probably made you miserable with all of my worrying." You're suddenly very aware that you are rambling, but when you catch a glimpse of his face, his smile is wide. So bright that the skin around his eyes is crinkling.

He leans towards you, lips stopping whatever words may have come next, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer in a soft, warm embrace. When he pulls away, his eyes bore right into yours, and your heart swells with more love than you could ever imagine having for one person. But he wasn't just any person. He was your person, your whole word staring back at you.

"I'm SO proud of you. You've been so strong today, always knew you had that strength in you, but seeing you take that leap of faith..doing something you knew you should despite your fear, that's all you, love. I can't take any credit for that. You've made me anything but miserable, trust me."

His face is still close enough to yours that you nudge forward, pressing your forehead to his, a silent appreciation of his affection.

"Any pain yet?" He pulls back, a thumb across your cheek, eyes still locked on yours.

"My head kind of hurts? And I still just feel kind of..drunk."

"You have always been a bit of a lightweight, babe. And a thief too, I see. S'that my sweatshirt?"

"Have not!" You swat playfully at his arm, "Maybe. Is that my hair clip in your hair?"

"Possibly." His eyes dart up to the swoop of curls on top of his head, a black plastic clip twisting it back and away from his face.

"Guess we're even then."

"S'pose we are." He tries to keep his eyes narrowed in a mock attempt of annoyance, but it quickly fades into laughter.

You decide against FaceTiming your family, hoping that hearing your voice will be enough. It seems to satisfy them at least for the rest of the day. You assure them that Harry is taking very good care of you and that everything went as smooth as could be expected.

He raises one eyebrow at you as you hang up, "As smooth as expected, huh? You aren't going to tell them the truth?"

"What's to tell? I had an infection and now it's gone. I'm fine, there's no sense in worrying them. We can give them the full story later."

He shrugs, fingers working to open one of the green pill bottles before passing one of the white pills to you, "For your headache, lovie. There's something here for nausea too if you need it. M'worried the pizza might've been too much. Maybe you should take one of these..just in case?"

"Harry, I promise I will tell you if I feel anything other than fine." Your hand runs from his shoulder down his bicep, squeezing gently, "Besides, I cannot take a whole one of those. If you think I'm a lightweight now..I'll sleep for the whole week if I take that."

He slips the bottle in his pocket, pulling you in to press a kiss to the top of your head, "We'll keep it close just in case, okay?"

"Sounds good," Your hand trails back up to his neck to work fingers through his hair, "Hey, thought we were watching a movie? What'd you pick?"

"Thought we could decide together. C'mon, let's get you comfy in bed."

"Ever the gentleman, always trying to get me in your bed."

"Hey! I am a perfect gentleman, thank you very much," He chuckles, a hand coming to rest on the small of your back, "Just thought you'd be more comfortable, you can prop up and stretch your feet out."

You let him tug you along for the second time today, thankful it's the luxury of your shared bed you get to settle into this time. He tucks you in softly, propping pillows behind your back and head.

"Comfy? Need anything else?"

"No, just need you to quit babying me so much and relax with me for a bit."

"Since when am I not allowed to baby you?"

You roll your eyes, "Never said you weren't allowed. Just want you to stop worrying so much, that's all."

"Good. Cause y'are my baby," No matter how many times you'd heard him say it before, it never failed to make you blush, "Do anything for you, y'know that, right?"

"I know," You look down at your hands, trying to slow your racing heart, "You never let me forget."

"Hey," He pokes your cheek, pulling your gaze back up to him, "I love you."

"I love you more, H."

He kisses your forehead, "Impossible. I love you most."

The reference to one of your favorite movies has you smiling at him, that dreamy feeling falling over you again, "Can we watch Tangled?"

"Sure, princess."

He sinks next to you, head propped up on your shoulder, navigating easily through Disney+ to find your requested movie.

Your eyes drift closed right about the time the lanterns are being released in the sky, a moment that normally leaves your face wet with tears, the soft vibrations of Harry humming along the perfect lullaby to push you further into your dream.

He wakes you later in the evening.

"Dinner's on the table if you want to join me."

"Time's it?" Your voice is still heavy with sleep.

"7. You were sleeping so deeply I didn't want to wake you, thought your body could use the extra sleep today."

"Yeah. It was nice, thank you." You stretch your arms forward, reaching for his hands to help pull you up.

"How do you feel?"

"A little sore. More sober, for sure."

Dinner is simple; a bowl of plain broth, salad, and toast. Exactly what the nurse suggested earlier. There's even a warm mug of tea waiting for you.

"With honey for my honey," He's so proud of his cheesy expression of love you cannot help but smile.

You look at him curiously when he sits next to you, the same boring meal set out for himself.

"Harry..you can eat what you want, babe. Seriously you've done enough today, more than enough to be supportive. It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you made yourself something different."

"Nah. S'fine. We're in this together, yeah?"

You raise your eyebrows at him playfully, "Did you have an organ snatched from your body today?"

"No, I didn't." He laughs, "I just meant food wise, love. It's vegetable broth, by the way, hope that's alright."

"It's perfect."

You nudge him lightly, an elbow to his side, shifting closer to ask for a kiss. He meets you the rest of the way, lips planted firmly on yours. When you don't pull away, he quickly adds another.

After dinner is done and you have another round of meds, the two of you end up in an awkward ball of cuddles on the couch. Harry flips through the channels on the tv before finding a show you both agree on.

But you're too restless, unable to find a position comfortable enough for you. You shift a few times, finally giving up and letting out a frustrated groan before tossing the blanket off the both of you and springing up and off the couch.

Harry doesn't panic, just grabs your hand before you can get too far away or lose your balance, keeping his voice low when he asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing hurts. I just can't get comfortable, and I don't feel right."

"What doesn't feel right, angel? Explain."

"I don't feel like myself. I don't know how to explain it. Just feel off."

He sees you're on the verge of tears and ascends from his spot on the couch, arms quickly enveloping you before placing a finger under your chin to pull your face up to look at him.

"It's probably gonna take a day or so to adjust, baby. Yes it was a minor surgery but it was a major change to your body." He's bending now to look right into your eyes, searching them, "How can we fix it tonight, hmm? What do you need?"

Tears are free flowing, falling on the front of your t-shirt and down to the floor.

"Take your time. Breathe." A large hand smoothing warm circles firmly across your back; a balm for your restless spirit.

You pause, deep breath in before slowly letting it out, "I think I just need to move around for a bit."

"Let's go for a walk, eh? A quick one and then back to bed. Your mind needs more rest. How's that sound?" He taps your forehead softly.

"Okay, yeah." You nod your head, an approval of his plan.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Everything's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

You nod again, scared your voice will break if you try to speak. He knew that those words held a lot of weight for you, he'd repeated them often throughout this whole process and to hear them now was a reminder of how safe you were. That with him, you would always be safe and loved.

Being dark outside meant you gracelessly padding through the house, up and down the hallway a few times and back to the living room. Harry stays close, encouraging you along with little claps and kisses to motivate you. When your stomach starts to feel uneasy, he urges you once again to take something for nausea. You agree to take a half a pill, knowing it'll help you sleep.

Despite the nap you had earlier and only being awake for a couple of hours, it doesn't take much convincing for you to settle back into bed.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

He's already reclined next to you, book in hand, the soft light from the lamp illuminating one side of his face. You're smushed against him, drifting between that sweet space of almost asleep and wanting to stay awake to enjoy any spare moment you get with him. His hand working through your hair helps push you towards the former of the two.

"I'm sorry to be such a burden today," Your words are slurring together but you continue on, just needing to get your thoughts out before he can stop you, "I don't deserve you and I shouldn't have overreacted so much about something so simple."

"Hey, none of that now," He lays the book on the nightstand, careful to save his place for later before pulling you closer to him, "You were not, nor have you ever been a burden to me. Just because you needed a little extra help today does not mean you aren't deserving of me or my love. You will never have to earn that. It's yours, always has been, will be as long as you decide to keep me around."

"Thank you. For all of it. I'll always want you."

"Always? Y'might change your mind someday, angel."

"I won't. Promise."

"Yeah? Me either."

A kiss laid delicately to the top of your head has your eyes dangerously close to falling shut again before another thought navigates its way through your mind and out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"H..what am I gonna do with a full week off from work?"

"Let me take care of you?"

And that's exactly what he does.

Mornings spent sleeping in, late breakfasts made together and afternoon walks. Evenings consisting of the two of you preparing dinner together or ordering takeout from some of the forbidden places you couldn't eat from before. Mugs of herbal tea before early bedtimes, you sweetly falling asleep to the sound of his voice reading to you most nights.

But his favorite part was that the scent of lavender was no longer cursed for you. Some nights before your surgery, when you simply could not fall asleep the pain was so unbearable, you would fill the tub with hot water and lavender scented bubbles to try to calm yourself enough to be able to drift off afterwards. It never worked, the heat always doing more harm than good. Harry would always be waiting for you, open arms and a soft towel to wrap you in.

So the smell became one you hated, memories of sleepless nights and nausea. But now you were free to use it again for what you always loved it for before it was cursed. In your body wash, lotion, even your laundry detergent; spreading the scent all over your shared space in as many ways as you could.

He even mentions it one night after dinner, when the two of you are pressed impossibly close together on the couch. His nose buried into your neck, inhaling deeply, pulling away to announce, "You smell like you again, love. Missed it so much." He burrows back in, placing kisses from your neck to your shoulder, ignoring your giggles and protests of how much it tickles.

A week later, the alarm wakes you sooner than you've become accustomed to, reminding you of your return to work. Harry's arm thrown over your waist pulls you closer as you try to leave the bed, a sleepy "Don't go." mumbled in your ear.

You do your best to peel yourself away from him, admitting silently to yourself how much harder it is for you to leave the warmth of your bed as it is for him to let you go.

2 years later, you have a scar you swear didn't heal right, and a man who loves you even more because of it.

#harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing #so happy this is finally done and being posted!#soooooo many times I almost just deleted it bc I didn't know how to feel about it #but anyway hope y'all enjoy!

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2manyfandoms2count · 4 years

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The famous “I-swear-it-gets-fluffier-it’s-just-this-first-part-that’s-a-little-angsty” one shot... Inspired by my brief ICU work experience and a reddit thread I read last week. Hope you guys enjoy! And special thanks @sd1970x for beta reading!

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Beep - Beep - Beep - Beep -

The sound of the heart rate monitor in the dark hospital room was driving Adrien crazy. It just seemed so slow, especially compared to the restless beat his foot was tapping on the ground as he waited.

“Hey.” Alya layed a soothing hand on his jittery leg. “She’s going to be okay.”

Adrien raked a hand through his hair and looked at the resting body in the hospital bed. Alya couldn’t really understand. Sure, her best friend lay there, having been caught in the middle of an Akuma fight. But she didn’t know how.

She didn’t know it was the saviour of Paris they were watching breathe, making the sheets quietly rise and fall as she did so. His best friend, too. The girl of his dreams. He himself hadn’t known until the car had hit the chimney behind which Ladybug had retreated to feed Tikki while Chat held down the fort, their opponent having escaped their first Lucky Charm plan.

He’d rushed to it and frantically dug out the rubble; he’d barely registered it was Marinette he was holding in his arms as he carefully extruded her from the pile of bricks. All he’d seen was the red blood that drenched her pink shirt. All he’d felt was the weakening pulse at her wrist.

He’d dashed her to the hospital, ignoring the Akuma yelling after him to come back and fight.

She’d been rushed to the operating room as soon as they’d arrived, the doctors being afraid that she might sustain internal damage from her apparently broken ribs. Chat had just had time to snatch her earrings to avoid them getting lost.

He’d then proceeded to kick the Akuma’s ass, fueled by the rage of it having injured his Lady. It was only after he’d purified the butterfly and everything had seemingly returned to normal that he’d realised he’d been crying.

As he detransformed, two very concerned Kwamis floating in front of him, he’d been relieved to see a message from Alya in the class group chat saying Marinette was in stable condition, although still unconscious after her operation. He’d immediately volunteered to join her and Nino to visit their friend.

He stole another look at her. She looked so peaceful. Unhurt.

He knew the bulk of her injuries were concealed under the linen, though.

The monitor continued its incessant beeping. Adrien knew that it going silent would not be a good sign, but couldn’t help but be irritated by it nonetheless. Especially when the sound was superimposed with that in other rooms, as well as the bustling activity of the resuscitation ward.

“You’d think that with all this noise she’d be awake by now.” He mumbled.

“Dude, relax. The doctors said she’s still sedated. She’ll wake up soon.” Nino wrapped an arm around his best friend’s shoulder. Adrien harrumphed doubtfully in reply.

“I’m more surprised that we haven’t seen Chat Noir around yet.” Nino added. “Apparently he’s the one who brought her in. He’s a cool dude.”

Alya nodded. “He really is.” Adrien’s heart warmed a little at his friends’ kind words. Then had to refrain from letting out an ironic snort at Alya’s next comment. “I still don’t understand what Marinette was doing there. It’s not like her to roam around fight scenes. It’s usually my job.”

“Your birthday’s coming up, babe, maybe she was trying to get a surprise message from Ladybug.” Nino shrugged.

As the pair bickered about how little or how much it was in character for Marinette to have been caught in the middle of offensive fire, Adrien got up to avoid betraying anything from his facial expression. He wasn’t sure Marinette would appreciate it if she woke up and found that all her friends knew that she actually didn’t need to stalk around Paris to get an autograph, or anything from Ladybug. She just had to say three little words to summon her.

He approached the monitor screen, taking a look at his friend’s constants. He didn’t know much about medicine, but none of the numbers were flashing, which he assumed was a good sign. The electrocardiogram traced a regular curve that looked like the ones in medical shows. He took a mental note of the values.

There was a small knock at the door before a nurse came into the room. “Marinette’s parents have returned, I’m sorry but she can’t have more than three visitors at a time and family has priority.” She said almost timidly.

“Of course!” Alya replied with a smile. “We’ll be off.”

Adrien’s eyes stayed glued on the monitor, so she went around the bed and took him by the hand to gently drag him out of the room. She repressed a smile. For someone who claimed Marinette was ‘just a friend’, Adrien really seemed worried about her.

Tom and Sabine were waiting in the hallway. Tom looked the most shaken Adrien had ever seen him. He could tell he’d been crying.

“Thank you so much for coming.” Sabine said with a brave smile. “Sorry we had to go, but we hadn’t closed the bakery properly in the rush to get here.”

“Anything for Marinette.” Alya hugged her friend’s mother. “You’ll keep us updated? And don’t hesitate to call me if you need a bit of a breather, I’m sure we’re all happy taking turns to keep her company.” She didn’t have to turn around to know the two boys behind her were nodding.

“Of course.”

The three teenagers waved goodbye as they walked towards the exit. When the parents had entered the room, Adrien put his hands in his pockets and felt the two little studs he’d borrowed.

“I forgot something in the room, I’ll be right back!” He said hurriedly as he turned around. He would’ve kept them safe for her, but he knew his Lady would probably panic if she woke up and couldn’t find them.

Nino looked at each other confusedly and shrugged.

When he was sure no one was in sight, he transformed into Chat Noir. It wasn’t the most discreet he’d ever been, but he couldn’t think of a good excuse as to why Adrien would have Marinette’s earrings. He knocked on the door before opening it. Tom and Sabine were sitting on each side of the bed, each holding one of Marinette’s hands.

“Hi, Chat Noir.” Sabine said, wiping a tear.

Tom got up and engulfed him in a bear hug. “Thank you.”

Chat Noir awkwardly patted him on the back. “Anything for Marinette.” He parroted Alya. Including die for her. The thought scared him. “How is she?” He asked even though he knew the answer as he stepped away from the big man.

“She’ll be okay.” Sabine said. “The doctors repaired what they could, the rest will heal naturally. She’s going to be in a lot of pain, which is why they’re keeping her here, but they started weaning the sedatives so she can call the nurses if it hurts.”

Chat nodded. “I’m sure we’ll all be relieved when she wakes up.”

“Would there be any way for us to reach you to give you news?” Sabine asked hopefully.

“As much as I’d like to give you my contact details, I’m not sure it would be a good idea.” He smiled sadly. “But don’t worry, I’ll be around.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Anyway, I don’t want to bother you during your family time, I just wanted to make sure Marinette got these back.” He delicately transferred the earrings into Sabine’s hand.

“Her lucky earrings.” She commented with a smile. “Thank you.”

“They weren’t so lucky this time.” He said gloomily.

“Of course they were! You found her.” Sabine squeezed Chat’s hand. “And the surgery went well.”

“We’re very grateful, son.” Tom patted him on the back.

Chat was moved by their words, which made his heart flutter in his chest. “I was only doing my duty.”

“But you made a difference. And that matters.”

Chat Noir wished that his father could sometimes be at least quarter as supportive as Tom and Sabine were. It would avoid him crying in instances like this.

“Will you tell her I came by?” He sniffled.

“Of course!” Sabine dug a tissue out of her bag, which he accepted gratefully, and a pen and paper. “You can write her a message too if you want, she’ll be thrilled to hear from you.”

“Thank you.”

He scribbled a quick word on the page, aware that he really needed to head back before Nino and Alya started worrying about his prolonged absence.

Get well soon Purr-incess. I’ll be waiting for you. Love, Chat Noir P.S.: I might come back and borrow those earrings of yours again if I need extra luck.

“You took your time!” Alya greeted him with her hands on her hips as he finally walked out of the hospital.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Nino asked, noticing the puffiness of his friend’s eyes, but not wanting to comment on it directly.

“I think so.” Adrien smiled bravely. My Lady, at least.

Read more on AO3

#again i promise it gets fluffier #they're all happy in the end #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #miraculous fanfiction #adrinette #adrienette #half reveal #lovesquare #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #the real mvps #tw: major character injury #it's not graphic though #love confessions #ml #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #elle writes

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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

The Surrogate - Chapter 18

The Surrogate: A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count: 1639

Rating: E

Warnings: Pregnancy, kidnapping, panic attacks, pregnancy complications, medical procedures

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people. When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want. Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 18

Clint’s mission was supposed to only be two nights. “Three at most,” Steve had assured the three of you with the cool calm of a man who had completed thousands of similar missions with no problem. The Avengers team had been really good about keeping Natasha and Clint’s missions under a week and the closer you got to the due date, the shorter and less frequent they became. No one wanted the baby to arrive when a family member was missing, and they knew how much stress it put on you when either Clint or Natasha weren’t there.

This particular team had included Steve and Thor, so you weren’t exactly worried about him. If it was a simple mission with two of the bigger hitters, he’d be home in no time.

When the fifth night passed and they weren’t back, you began to worry.

You weren’t the only one. Natasha wouldn’t let on, but you could tell the lack of any word was getting to her too. She was in the comms rooms and attending meetings so much that you only saw her at night, and often you’d wake up in the middle of the night to an empty bed.

That only made you more anxious and over the course of the week where there was no word, each time you woke up to an empty bed you would start imagining the absolute worst possible outcomes.

Visions of Clint being tortured or dead haunted you and the more time passed without word, the more graphic they got.

When you finally got in communication with Steve and he said they were headed back, everyone went straight to the landing pad and waited for the jet to come in. When it finally landed and the back opened up to let the occupants out, only Steve and Thor climbed out.

“Where’s Clint?” Natasha said, rushing up to them.

“Nat,” Steve said, gently, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Maybe we should…”

“No,” she shouted. “Where is he? Tell me now!”

“He went missing,” Steve answered. “We sent him out to get intel and he never came back. Then we found out we’d been bugged so we couldn’t send word back here. We thought it better to try and get him out immediately but when we finally tracked down their base, it was deserted.”

“What? Steve! You should have told us right away!” Natasha shouted. She looked ready to tear someone apart and she just wasn’t sure if she should start with Thor or Steve.

“Natasha,” Thor soothed. “We did what we thought was best…”

“You thought wrong!” Natasha shouted.

Bucky moved to her quickly. “Don’t worry, Tasha. It’s Clint. We’ll get him back.”

You just stood there in silence. All the worst thoughts you had had while they had been gone had come true and you felt like you’d been hit by a truck. You wanted to say something you just weren’t sure whether that thing was to get angry like Natasha was, comfort her and tell her it would be okay, or just break down and cry.

“Let’s go in,” Steve said. “We have a lot to talk about and we need to make plans for a rescue mission.”

Everyone started to move in the direction of the main building and you went to move after them. As you took a step, the world started to spin around you and turn on its head. As everything turned black you heard someone scream your name.

There was a beeping. It was incessant and annoying and you wished it would stop, but you couldn’t quite seem to be able to open your eyes to see where it was coming from.

Wherever you were, it smelled like antiseptic, and it was too cold. Your throat hurt, and your mouth was dry and you were panicked but you didn’t know why. Someone said your name and you snapped your head into their direction and pried your eyes open. Your eyelids felt heavy and you only managed to keep them open long enough to see Jake, one of the doctors from the medbay.

“Dorogáya?”

Natasha’s voice sounded panicked and terrified. You turned in the direction that it came from and forced your eyes open again. You were crying and you didn’t know why, but Natasha sat beside you with a wild look in her eyes.

“Nat?” You said, your voice hoarse and gravelly. “What happened?”

“You fainted,” Jake answered. “Landed pretty heavily. Your powers seem to be impeded…”

Panic rushed through you and you tried to sit up. Jake and one of the nurses held you back down as you thrashed under them. “The baby? Is she okay? Natasha?”

“Shh… it’s okay. The baby’s okay,” Jake soothed. “You need to relax.”

“She’s okay?” You said, laying back down and putting your hands on your stomach.

“Yes, at the moment,” he said. “But… you fainted and you landed badly. Your powers seemed to have helped you and the baby, but not as much as they usually seem to. Your blood pressure is very high which shouldn’t be happening. We think that’s why you fainted. Your body is also not fighting the cannula, which it always does, we normally have to keep moving it, just to stop your skin healing around the thing. Have you taken anything? Eaten anything unusual?”

You shook your head. Things were still fuzzy and picking through your memories was like walking through a fog. You couldn’t remember eating anything unusual. You’d been with Natasha all day.

“Try to remember,” Jake said. “If we can’t get to the bottom of this we might have to just get that baby out.”

You started crying again and looked at Natasha. “It’s too early. Nat… Nat… Clint’s not…”

And then it hit you like a ton of bricks. Clint was missing. Possibly dead. The machines around you started beeping louder and an alarm began to sound. “What are we going to do about Clint?” You babbled, completely ignoring the frantic way the medical staff was moving around you. “Nat, Nat… we have to go and get him back.”

“You can’t do anything, dorogáya,” Natasha soothed, though her voice was shaking slightly. “My darling, calm down.”

There was a pinch in your arm like something bit you and you looked over to see something being injected into your arm. The mental fog you were suffering from deepened and you sunk back into bed as your muscles all seemed to relax. The machines all calmed down again and you closed your eyes.

“What happened? What did you do to her?” Natasha snapped.

“Agent Romanoff, you need to calm down,” Jake said. “It was a sedative. It’s safe for both her and the baby. Because of her powers, it’s really hard to say what exactly is going on right now, but given that her blood pressure has shot up at the mention of Agent Barton, and the original incident happened when Captain Rogers and Thor returned without him, I’m going to assume this is an extreme stress reaction.”

“Nat,” you mumbled, shaking your head slowly from side to side. “We have to get him. He’s gotta be a dad.”

“I know. But I can’t leave you,” she said, pain dripping from her voice.

“I’ll go,” you tried to push yourself up, but Jake easily pushed you back down.

“If you can’t lie still, I’m going to strap you down,” he warned.

“Is that really necessary?” Natasha snapped.

“I don’t think you understand how dire this is, Agent Romanoff,” Jake warned. “She’s not quite thirty-five weeks yet. If we can’t keep her blood pressure down we’re going to have to do an emergency c-section. Do you think that’s even possible given her power? Because I don’t.”

Tears began to run down your cheeks even with the sedative making you so disconnected from your emotions. “I’m sorry, Nat.”

She dabbed at your forehead with a cool compress and kissed your cheek. “I’ll figure it out, dorogáya. We’ll get Clint back and the baby is going to be fine.”

It was hard to tell under the influence of the sedative but Natasha sounded panicked and you forced your eyes open again to look at her. “Nat… Nat… he might need me.”

“Of course he does,” she whispered. “But you need to relax and take care of his daughter. I’ll get him… I don’t want to leave you, but if I can just…”

“I’ll go.”

You lifted your head and looked over to where the familiar voice had come from. You were much more out of it than you thought because it took a moment for your eyes to adjust and for the realization that Kate was standing in the doorway.

“Did Steve tell you to go?” Natasha asked.

“I volunteered,” Kate said. “Think about it, Natasha. I know him better than anyone, except maybe you two. I know how he thinks. I know his moves. I’m the best person to do it. Wanda’s coming too. Cap and Thor as well so we can pick up the trail.”

Natasha shook her head. “Katie, I think I should…”

“No, Nat,” Kate said firmly. “You stay here and look after your girlfriend and your daughter. I’ll get him back.”

She turned on her heel and marched out of the room without waiting for a reply. Natasha watched the space where Kate had been standing for a little while, looking like she was lost in thought. Her brows were knitted together and she was frowning slightly.

She snapped out of it quickly and turned her attention back to you. “Okay, dorogáya,” she soothed. “You heard Katie, you rest up. She’s bringing Clint home.”

You nodded and curled into her, letting her hold you as the sedative pulled you down into sleep while you wept by her side.

// NEXT

#clint barton #natasha romanoff #clint barton x natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x natasha romanoff #clintasha #clintasha x reader #black widow #black widow fanfic #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #the surrogate

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katahnisharma · 4 years

Text

gone (4) | t.h.

Summary: tom is back from shooting cherry, but he’s not okay.

Warnings: this started as my entry to the lovely b’s writing challenge @worldoftom, but you guys were so amazing and wanted a second part. this is a very emotional chapter and there are mentions of anxiety, depression, and overall intense emotions so please be careful loveys ♡

A/N: hey guys it’s been a while but life has been really really difficult so i'm sorry for the wait! i'm not entirely sure if anyone still cares about this series so here’s hoping :) for this chapter i listened to light of love by florence + the machine and all good things come to an end by the og queen nelly furtado lol. also Tumblr apparently won’t let me link certain things so if you’re looking for my masterlist or playlist it’s in my bio ♡

IF YOU’RE STILL INTERESTED IN BEING ON MY TAGLIST PLEASE FILL OUT THE NEW FORM IN MY BIO BC I WILL BE REVAMPING IT!

gif by @hllands

“Hey, did I leave my notebook in the living room?” You asked, letting your tea bag soak in the mug Tom always saved for you. It was an unspoken rule, that dark blue cup with the constellations on it from his mother was yours only. You mentioned how beautiful it was once, and Tom remembered.

It went on the list with the others.

“You mean the one with the polaroid on the cover? No, it’s not in here.” Tom called back, scrolling through Netflix to find a movie for the both of you. He’d just come back from the junket for Spies in Disguise, and he immediately called his best friend over to spend the day with him.

Well, it was supposed to be more than just another day.

Because today he was going to tell you he loved you.

“Hmm, maybe I left it in my bag upstairs. I’ll get it when I’m done with the tea.” You said, setting your mug down on the counter. It looked like it needed sugar, so you rootled around for the little jar Tom kept in one of his cabinets.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go get it!” Tom said from the couch, his nerves beginning to make him jittery. He thought that while you were in the kitchen, picking a movie would help him calm down. But he couldn’t focus on any of the descriptions, and Tom could feel his heart beat faster and faster.

He needed to get up for a few minutes.

“Are you sure? Do you want me to pick the movie then?” You teased, knowing very well Tom hadn’t found a movie yet. It was a bit of a running gag, him never being able to pick a movie. You would bite your lip to stop from laughing when he eventually got frustrated and handed you the remote.

And even in his nervous state, Tom still grinned because of you.

“Yeah, yeah, like you’re any better. We’ve seen The Avengers twice!” He shot back, a smirk on his lips when he heard you scoff in the kitchen. Apart from your smile, making you jokingly annoyed was Tom’s favorite thing. He liked how cute you were when he teased you.

“Shut up and get my notebook, Tommy!” You laughed, and Tom felt his cheeks warm at the sound.

God you were so fucking perfect.

When Harrison woke up, he almost forgot where he was. But then his vision cleared and there you were, lying in the hospital bed. Harrison’s heart clenched at the sight, remembering the events of last night that landed you here with an IV in your arm. He sat up and stretched, the old wooden chair squeaking against the floor.

The sound was what made you stir, your mind waking up from the dream.

“Harrison?” You whispered, your eyes adjusting to the dim lights in the room. The hospital bed you’d fallen asleep in the night before seemed to glow next to you, but you realized it was just an IV hooked up in your arm. Harrison smiled softly, getting up and coming to stand by your side.

“Hey, you were out like a light.” He said, handing you the glass of water a nurse had brought. You gratefully brought it to your lips, feeling a little dehydrated from whatever fluids were in the IV bag. Harrison gave your free hand a squeeze before crossing to the windows, playing with the blinds to let some sun in.

“How long have you been here?” You asked, playing with the sheets mindlessly. Harrison thought about lying, telling you he’d only arrived a few minutes ago. Because he knew you’d feel bad about it, but you could always tell when he lied.

“Since last night. I stayed here, didn’t want you to be alone.” Harrison replied, and you frowned almost immediately. You felt bad enough that he’d driven you to the hospital on his day off, but knowing that he’d also spent the night sleeping in an uncomfortable, crappy chair didn’t help with the guilt.

“And before you say ‘you shouldn’t have’, just remember you would have done the same for me. So stop beating yourself up about it.” He said, going back to his chair. You winced when it made the same creaking sound, like it was about to break. Harrison noticed, and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“But this chair was really unbearable.” He chuckled, and you finally smiled again.

“Shut up, you idiot.” You giggled, chucking a pillow at Harrison right as the nurse peeked in. You felt your face burn as she smiled at the two of you, Harrison picking up the pillow sheepishly and biting back a laugh.

“Glad to see the patient is feeling better. Can I get you anything, love?” She asked kindly, picking up the now empty class beside you. You smiled at her, shaking your head. You really just wanted to be discharged so you could leave, hospitals always made you nervous. The smell of disinfectant and the general sense of uncertainty were not your favorite sense overloads.

“No, but thank you for everything. Do you know if I’ll be able to leave today?” You asked, and the nurse nodded her head.

“You should be all set to be discharged in an hour. The doctor will check in on you in thirty minutes and then you’re all free to go.” She said, taking the pillow from an embarassed Harrison. You giggled a little when she fluffed the pillow, and returned it to your bed.

“Great, thank you again!” She gave you one last smile before leaving the room, and Harrison breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank god, I’m really hungry.”

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For Harry, last night would probably be one of the worst and strangest of his life.

After Tom broke down and sobbed into his shirt for two hours straight, he became so frenetic that Harry was afraid he would end up accidentally hurting himself. Tom tried to pack a suitcase to go after you, but he almost slipped in the shower and was so disoriented that he ran into the bedroom wall. Then he tried to cook something on the stove for Harry, but left the fire on while he got distracted trying to find your favorite cereal. Tom wasn’t completely all there, and it was pretty obvious to Harry that he was having some sort of episode.

So once Tom was focused enough to eat the banana his brother opened for him, Harry called his mother.

“Mom, I need you to tell me the name of that anxiety medicine. The one that sometimes works as a sedative.” Harry cast a glance at Tom on the couch, watching him slowly chew the banana with glossy eyes. He had been silently crying at odd times this morning, and it was definitely making Harry nervous.

“Why? Harry, what’s happened?” Nikki immediately sounded worried, running over to the medicine cabinet. She kept the anxiety medicine mainly for Harry, who used to have pretty severe bouts himself. The episodes became few and far between, until they stopped altogether.

But now Nicki was concerned Harry was having them again.

“It’s not for me, Mum. It’s for Tom. I think he’s having some sort of breakdown, and I’m afraid he might accidentally do something stupid and hurt himself.” Harry said, looking over his shoulder to see Tom staring at the banana, almost lifelessly.

“For Tom? Harry, please tell me what’s going on.” Nikki said, clutching the bottle in her hand nervously.

“I think Tom and Y/N might be over.” Harry said, and the words had more weight than he thought they would. Like it was finally a possible reality, one where you and Tom weren’t together anymore.

“Okay, I’m on my way.”

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“Can you get in the car alright? Need any help?” Harrison asked, hovering over you as the two of you walked to the hospital parking lot. You rolled your eyes, smiling at his protective behavior. He’d been like this during your dischargement too, and it was sweet but definitely unnecessary.

“Haz, I told you. I’m perfectly fine, I swear. It really doesn’t hurt that much, and I can absolutely get into the car on my own.” You said, patting his shoulder reassuringly. Harrison sighed, biting his lip a little worriedly.

“Okay, okay, just making sure. I just don’t want you to aggravate the injury or anything. At least not until we get you home and set up.” He replied, and you couldn’t help it. You leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, watching Harrison’s mouth immediately drop open in shock.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“To thank you for being the world’s greatest div. I love you, idiot.” You said, laughing when Harrison slung an arm around your shoulder. He rolled his eyes at you, smiling playfully.

“You know I love you too, but you really didn’t need to give me that weirdass kiss.” Harrison chuckled, immediately ducking into the car before you decided to throw your purse at him. Scoffing, you got into the passenger seat and punched him in the arm.

“Ow! That hurt!”

“I’ll have you know my kisses are wonderful!” You giggled, clapping a hand over your mouth when Harrison started to fake cry and clutch his arm.

“If I agree, will you leave me alone?” Harrison laughed, starting the car and reversing out of the parking lot. You smiled wickedly, reaching up to ruffle his precious hair. Harrison recoiled instantly, whining at your little stunt.

“I take it back, I actually hate you.”

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“Where is he?” Nikki asked, rushing into the living room. Harry jumped up and led her to the bedroom, where Tom was curled up in a ball. Under the covers, he was crying softly and clutching what looked like a sweater. It seemed too small to be his, and Harry immediately realized it was your favorite sweater. The one Tom loved on you because it was what you were wearing when both of you met for the first time.

“Tom? Love, look at me please.” Nikki whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked over at Harry and mimed a glass of water, which he left to get from the kitchen. Once they were alone, Nikki gently pulled the covers back. Tom lay there, tears streaming down his face and the front of your sweater soaked.

“She’s gone...” Tom whimpered, trying to pull the covers back over his head. He was completely spent, the possibility that you were really gone hitting him like a train. Tom had pictured the rest of his life with you, and now nothing seemed worthwhile anymore if you weren’t there beside him.

“Y/N? Tell me what happened, Tom.” Nikki said, running a gentle hand through his hair. Tom relaxed under her touch, reminded of all the times in his childhood that he lay in bed upset. Breakups, rejections, failures, his mother had seen them all. And she'd always been there for him.

“We got into a fight...a big fight….and I threw my phone….”

“At her? Tom, how could you do that?” Nikki gasped softly, and Tom’s eyes widened. He found the strength to sit up, looking his mother right in the eyes.

“No...no! I would never hurt her! I threw it at the wall and I locked myself in the bathroom. But….when I came out….she was gone and there was b-blood on the f-floor and...I think-I think I-” Tom couldn’t get the rest of his words out, and Nikki knew enough to envelop her son in a hug.

“It’s okay...it’s okay, Tom.” She sighed, holding her eldest son close. The whole thing was confusing, but if Nikki knew anything about your relationship with Tom it was that it had been the best one he’d ever had. You were kind, intelligent, and strong, exactly what she had always wanted Tom to have in a partner. But hearing Tom cry and work himself up meant she knew what she needed to say. Tom had to stop living in his head.

“Tom? I want you to listen to me, it’ll be okay.”

“But….she’s gone and I hurt her….I can’t ever forgive myself…” Tom sobbed, but Nikki was adamant she would speak and get through to him.

“Look, the past is the past, it’s not in our hands. You have the chance to ask for her forgiveness, and explain what you’re feeling right now. Don’t let your past actions dictate the future, love. That would be a mistake, because I know Y/N. She loves you and she wants to be there for you. She’ll understand what you’re going through because she cares, that’s what a real partner does. They want the best for you because it’s you. You need to forgive yourself so that she can help you heal.”

“But what if she doesn’t w-want me anymore? I know I scared her….I never wanted to do that b-but she’s been hurt and left because of me….I’m afraid Y/N won’t love me anymore!” Tom cried, his body shaking a little. Nikki rubbed his back and took the water glass from Harry, who’d reappeared in the room.

“Darling, you have to try. You have to fight for the love you want. You don’t think your father and I have gotten angry with each other? We fight and that’s normal, but at the end of it all we come back to each other. I put my feelings aside and listen to him, and he does the same. That’s how it works, we love each other so much that I’ll forgive him and he’ll forgive me.”

Nikki took Harry’s hand and held it, and Tom was finally still. There was no more crying, no more shaking. It was just a moment frozen in time, the three of them together in a little room. Harry hugged Tom and Nikki kissed his forehead, and for the first time in 36 hours Tom wasn’t afraid anymore. The fight wasn’t plaguing him anymore, and neither was the aftertaste of filming that had been slowly poisoning his mind. All he could see was you, like a vision before him wiping his tears away. With that same smile that he had fallen in love with so easily, because it was purely yours.

And that was enough for Tom to be at peace with himself.

“Thank you.” Tom whispered, and Nikki was able to smile again. Harry ruffled his hair, making Tom punch him softly in the arm. He reached for the water glass and the pills in Nikki’s hand, knowing that he needed to take them.

“Take these two and it’ll help a little with the anxiety. It’ll also make you a little drowsy, but it might be good to sleep it all off properly. I’ll stay here with Harry until you wake up, okay?” Nikki said, and Tom let him expend enough energy to nod and smile.

“Just...just please make sure Y/N is okay? Make sure that nothing’s wrong?” Tom said, and Nikki squeezed his right hand. Harry had his left.

“Always. Now get some real sleep, you’re going to need it...”

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

“Can we please listen to something other than your terrible daily mix?” You laughed, Harrison clutching his chest to feign offence. He reluctantly handed you the aux cord and you smiled, knowing exactly what you wanted to play. Taking a couple seconds to sift through your own playlists, you found the song you were looking for and pressed play. Harrison smirked at your choice, rolling his eyes at the songs you played over and over again. He attempted to steal the aux back from you, but you dodged him quickly.

“Hey, focus mister! I’m not about to get into an accident right out of the hospital!” You said, giggling as he started to belt out the lyrics and dance. He laughed, rolling his eyes as he focused on the road again.

“I’m a great driver! I’m just trying to save myself from your shit music taste.” He said with a smirk and now it was your turn to roll your eyes. Harrison wasn’t a bad driver, but he definitely wasn’t a great one. The first time you had gotten into the car with him had been to get groceries and it was a disaster. He forgot to turn around before reversing and nearly hit a little old lady with her cart, and almost got hit merging onto the highway. After that, you were careful to look out for him even if it meant you became a backseat driver.

“Sure, Haz. Whatever you want to believe. Just please get us home in one piece!” You laughed, leaning your head back and letting the sunlight warm your face. If not for the events of the previous day, you would have basked in the glory of such a beautiful day.

But your mind turned to Tom, as it always seemed to.

“Hey, is my bag in the back?” You asked, suddenly desperate to check its contents. Harrison turned down the music, furrowing his eyebrows at your change in mood. You turned to look at him, a slight fear in your eyes. Harrison nodded, gesturing to the backseat.

“Yeah, it’s there. Why? What’s wrong?”

“I just...I just need to make sure something is in there…” You trailed off, swiveling in your seat to grab at your handbag. Harrison watched from the corner of his eye as you set it on your lap, rootling through it quickly.

“Whoa, whoa. What are you looking for?” Harrison asked, a little concerned by how frantic you seemed to be. With a sigh of relief, you feel your hands grasp what you’re looking for and you pull it out slowly. Harrison’s eyes automatically soften, seeing your eyes water with your most prized possession in your hand.

“Is that the notebook Tom bought you? The one he bought you when he found out you wanted to be a writer?”

“Y-yeah...it is. I just wanted to make sure it was still there, you know? That’s dumb, isn’t it? I mean...he probably doesn’t even want to be with me a-anymore. So...so why am I….why am I holding on like this?” You felt the dam break finally, the tears streaming down your face. Harrison bit his lip, pulling the car over and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Hey...hey...look at me.” Your tears were staining the cover, the little drops of water creating little streams on the surface. It felt like someone had pulled the rug from underneath you, and that you’d discovered there was no floor. What would you do without Tom? You loved him more than anything, but you were no fool. His anger couldn’t have come from out of the blue, it was something repressed that Tom had been feeling for a long time. Without warning, your insecurities began to mount.

Maybe he was bored of you.

Maybe you annoyed him.

Maybe he’d found someone else.

Maybe you weren’t good enough and he’d realized it.

And then the worst of them all.

Maybe the rest of the world was right.

“I’m losing him.” You whispered, and Harrison’s heart clenched at your words. He knew you were always insecure about dating Tom, but you’d never vocalized anything like this before.

“No, no you’re…”

“I’m not an idiot, Haz! I’ve seen the signs! H-he’s done with me….I’m just d-delaying the inevitable. I should have….I should have known I wasn’t good enough for him. He’s him and I’m j-just me, who the hell was I fooling? E-even the fans knew it!”

“Y/N...come on...that’s not-”

“He hasn’t wanted to spend any real time with me since he came back from Cherry. It’s like I don’t even exist to him, I’m invisible until he has to talk to me. I’ve tried five times to get him to have dinner with me and he rejected me every time, Haz. All I’ve heard for two months is ‘I’m going out with the boys, sorry’ or ‘Just going to sleep, don’t feel like eating’. And I tried to understand, I really did. It must have been so hard shooting a movie like that, it would be emotionally draining for anyone. Hell, even the book is emotionally draining-”

“I don’t think...”

“Let me finish, please? Haz, I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired, I’m so tired. I can’t fight for this relationship anymore when I’m not even sure if he wants it. He pushes me away all the time and it hurts me to see him like that. Tom isn’t happy, and I think it’s because of me. So I won’t hold him back anymore, I’ll just quietly disappear. No drama, no fighting, nothing. I can’t bear knowing I’m the reason he’s unhappy, it would kill me to think that.”

You broke again, the tears burning your eyes as you clutched the notebook tighter to your chest. It brought you a little comfort, knowing what you would have to do next. You needed to leave Tom, to let him live his life and be happy. You clearly couldn’t make him happy anymore and though that was something you’d struggled to accept in the last few hours, it was the right thing to do. You had no delusions about the way you looked, you always felt rather plain and boring compared to the beautiful women Tom was used to being around. He would be better off with someone else, someone as amazing as him.

Someone who isn’t you.

Harrison’s throat went dry as you slowly raised a hand to wipe at your tears, your eyes glossing over as you stared lifelessly out the window. He had a horrible feeling that you were serious about what you had just said, and he wasn’t sure how all this had happened. How could he have let you feel like this?

How could they not have noticed?

“Please, please don’t say-”

“Harrison, I have to. I can’t do this anymore.” You whispered, and Harrison stopped mid sentence. You never called him by his full name, it was always just Haz. He squeezed your hand as you cried, sobs wracking your body that made him cry too. You barely got the words out, but Harrison knew them before you said it.

“I have to leave because I love him.”

IF YOU’RE STILL INTERESTED IN BEING ON MY TAGLIST PLEASE FILL OUT THE NEW FORM IN MY BIO BC I WILL BE REVAMPING IT!

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#tom holland #tom holland x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #tom holland angst #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader

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rafivadafreddy · 3 years

Text

Pretty Little Psycho.

A Nevada Ramirez and Nettie Perez Story. Part Four.

Part One - Part Two - Part Three Masterlist

Summery: Nettie worries while being stuck in the hospital, and for good reason. Word Count: 1,390 Warnings: violence, cursing, panic attack. POV jumps.

Nevada:

As he watched the girl lay there on the bed in front of him, Nevada couldn’t help but felt a pang in his chest. Nettie had come close to losing her life, why? Because she was seen with him, because his enemies were trying to hurt him? Wouldn’t be the first time this happened.

“mierda(shit)…” he mumbled and stood up. Running a hand through his hair, Nevada looked at Miguel. “I need you to stay around and keep an eye on her. OK?” he told the guy who nodded.

“OK but… jefe(boss), what if someone tries to stop by?” Miguel asked, obviously curious and oblivious at the same time.

“mira aquí(look here) the only people who should show up here are Camila and Dalvin from the café shop. Her family is dead from the information that was pulled up. So. No one comes in here unless it’s the fucking nurse and doctor! ¿Lo entiendes?(you understand?)” he spat at the man in front of him who nodded and kept his mouth shut.

Leaving the hospital room, Nevada left the building and pulled out a cigar. Lighting it up, he took in a long drag before looking around. Nothing unusual. Heading to his car, where his men were waiting. Nevada got in and didn’t look back at the hospital. It would be the last time he would see the girl. He couldn’t help but feel as if this happened was because of him.

The information he had pulled up about Nettie wasn’t too much. Just the usual records and how every single person in her family was dead aside from her.

Sending a message to one of his men, telling them to go to the girls' house to fix up anything broken. Nevada couldn’t help but feel a weird sensation in his stomach and chest as they drove away from the hospital. Shaking his head and continuing to smoke his cigar, Nevada asked them to drive him home so he could rest and forget about the last few days.

Nettie:

By the time she was finally coming to from her sleep like state, it had been two weeks since the attack. Not that Nettie knew that of course, she only remembered a strange dream and knows of how dry her mouth felt. With a groan, she tried to move but found herself slowly fall back asleep. Nurses were rushed in and Nettie could feel them messing with her, but she just didn’t have the strength to stay awake.

Never seeing the man in her room who watched the whole thing happen and was quick to deliver the message to Nevada that she had woken up.

By the next time Nettie woke up, it was a day later, and she found that waking up was a lot easier this time around. With a nurse walking into the room as she was trying to sit up, the older women rushed over to help Nettie. “Careful sweetie… you took quick a kick to the head and plenty of stitches.” She spoke and Nettie just felt like her head was throbbing.

“Hum… I- I don… “but her throat felt as if was filled with cotton and each time she tried to speak, it felt worse and worse. Like it was being scratched and trying to be ripped open from the inside.

Once a cup of water was almost drowned, bit Nettie was sure to drink slowly. Small sips until the cup she held was empty.

“Good! Now, just stay there and relax. A doctor should be by soon to check on you.” Nurse Elizabeth smiled kindly to Nettie, who just nodded and with the help from the nurse before leaving. Nettie was sitting up against the pillows behind her. She tried to remember what had happened to her.

Remembering the run in with Nevada, the cleaning of her home and going out to eat. It was going back home that things became blurry.

Looking around her hospital room, Nettie took in the flowers sitting beside the bed They were gorgeous and she found herself shocked to see them. There were quite a few flowers around her room now that she was actually paying attention to her surroundings.

When the nurse returned, Nettie asked the question that had been bothering her. “Why am I in my own room? I... I can’t afford this.” she told the nurse and felt the worry bubble up in her. She was scared. Nervous. Surely the money Nevada stoked away in her bag wouldn’t cover the hefty hospital bill she would be getting.

“Don’t worry about that. The man who brought you in already took care of everything.”

Only that just made Nettie worry even more. Who the hell brought her to the hospital?

Panicking, she didn’t even notice the heart monitor that she was hooked up to starting to pick up. A tear made its way down her cheek. The only thing Nettie noticed was the way her throat felt like it was closing up as she gasped for air and like the room was closing in on her. Her body was shaking with fear, wondering if they were back. Memories of her attack came back like flashes in her mind.

The nurse quickly jumped into action when noticing what was happening and tried to help the girl calm down. Though nothing worked.

Miguel’s POV:

Looking into the room, the man who was told to be kept on watch. He frowned. Seeing Nettie panic, the look of sheer horror in her eyes, as if she was in some kind of danger. Not that he blamed the girl, no. Miguel had a feeling that she was worried about what had happened and being in the hospital alone, well. He didn’t blame her. After watching the nurse give the girl a sedative, Miguel felt sick.

Grabbing his phone, he sent a message to Nevada.

‘jefe(boss), she’s not doing too good. Had to be medicated. Maybe you should come down and tell her she has nothing to worry about?’

Once the text was sent to Nevada, Miguel paced around the hallway. None of the nurses, doctors or securities bothered him. They knew who put him there to guard the girl's door. Though he went down the hall and turned the corner, finding the vending machine and got himself some snacks. Now that Nettie was drugged up to sleep, he would have nothing to do... again.

Hearing a nurse ask a man who he was and why he was on their floor. Miguel dropped his snacks and rushed over to Nettie’s hospital room.

There before him was a white man with greying hair, clean shaven and an expensive suit. “I’m her father. I got word that she’s been hospitalized.”

“I suggest you leave.” Miguel spoke up, stepping into the room. Eyes narrowed as he eyed the man. “Her whole family are dead.” he added, the nurse gasped and went to call security as the unknown man pulled a gun and started to shoot at Miguel and the nurse.

As a bullet hit his arm, Miguel was able to pull out his own gun with his other unarmed arm and killed the guy. “cabrón!(fucker)” he yelled and dropped his gun and gripped at his bleeding arm.

Breathing heavily, nurses, doctors and secutiry came rushing in and Miguel was on the phone with Nevada. Telling him what had happened.

“¿Qué diablos quieres decir con que tuviste que matar a alguien?!(what the hell do you mean you had to kill someone?)” Trujillo yelled on the other end, grumbling on about how he would be there soon.

As they hung up, Miguel was both stitched and bandaged. The man sat beside Nettie in her room, making sure he was facing the door. Already worried for what Nevada was going to do when arriving. He almost let some guy kill Nettie.

“Dios mío(my god)....” he groaned, already hearing his boss nearing.

“Well, Miguel! Want to explain to me just how Nettie here almost died... if you’ve been watching her the whole time!” Nevada demanded to know and Miguel refused to meet his eyes. “I mean... there’s a bathroom here in the room for you to use! Food is sent to you three times a fucking day! What more do you want?”

Though when Miguel went to answer, Nevada told him to just get out and go home. Which was what Miguel did.

Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart @garturbo @not-that-kinda-gurl08

#Nevada ramirez #nevada ramirez fic #nevada ramirez fanfic #nevada ramirez x reader #Raul Esparza #raul esparza fanfiction #raul esparza fanfic #raul esparza one shot #Raúl Esparza #raúl esparza fic #raúl esparza x oc #trouble in the heights #Trujillo

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