you try to smile

Strength of Spirit- Part 2

Dean Winchester walks into your laundromat looking very much like your next one night stand. Instead, tragedy strikes, and you end up in the middle of a nightmare, with only Dean (and his brother Sam) to help you navigate it.

Part 1

Summary of Part 2: Dean gets you to safety. You find out what he really does for a living.

Warning: none for this chapter

Word Count: 1850ish

A/N: It’s been a while since I’ve done a series that wasn’t just smut. I’m hoping we’ll all have some fun with it! XOXO


Your whole body was numb as you moved, not feeling the steps beneath your feet as Dean pulled you down the stairs of your apartment building and out onto the street. He didn’t let go of your hand until he dumped you in the passenger seat of a car.

That’s when the panic set in.

Keep reading

Early Mornings || Kim Taehyung

Originally posted by jjks


Word Count: 1.6k

Genre: Fluff


It was almost three am when you heard the sound of your bedroom door opening. You weren’t sure who it could have been at this time of night, as your husband was laid in bed next to you. There was nobody else who crossed your mind and you could feel your heartbeat quicken slightly in your chest. Fear flooded under your skin at the idea of somebody breaking into your home and your first thought went to your six year old daughter who was sleeping alone in her bedroom.

The only sound echoing through the room, besides the soft snores of your husband, were small sniffles. You immediately picked up on what it was and without a thought you sat up in bed and pulled the cord of the lamp beside your bed, letting the light flood the room. There, at the end of your bed, was your daughter. The first thing you noticed were the tear tracks that went down her cheeks and you could see the front of her top was completely soaked.

Your heart clenched in your chest and you let a small smile grace your face to calm your daughter down. She instantly looked up at you as the light came on and her eyes squeezed together as she continued to cry quietly. You removed the blankets from your legs, the cold air briefly gracing against Taehyung’s own legs, causing him to move slightly in his sleep.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

i cant believe hobi chose yoongi for the lets get married mission i dont think yoongi would ever say it like that even if he meant it ajsjjdjd did hoseok just try to make him flustered because im sure thats all he did

well to be fair he went to jungkook first, then saw yoongi and went to him because i guess he thought he could make yoongi flustered??? idk what he was thinking tbh??? yoongi is like the least likely person to play along. he sees right through their pranks i’m pretty sure he knew it was for a mission lmao although you could tell he had to try hard to ignore hoseok, he was smiling to himself alsalkdmkdmf hoseok maybe wanted to make yoongi flustered but i’m still laughing at his shaking hand when he was hesistant to touch yoongi’s shoulder

When Steve is feeling a bit insecure he bought himself an iron man T-Shirt for the days he was not feeling himself. He wants to gain strength from his favorite person. The first time he witnessed a heroic act in the twenty-first century was Ironman saving a falling woman from her death. 

The first time Tony saw him in that shirt it made him feel both extremely proud and at the same time forced him into extreme laughter. Tony smiled and said, “if you really want to try it all you had to do is ask. I would have let you try on the real thing.” 

“Nah, it is there to protect you,” Steve replied blushing. 

The Summoning


A intent flicker of candle makes itself known outside the makeshift circle you find yourself sitting in.  The room is mostly darkness aside from the small, solitary light that sits quietly opposite your cross-legged seat.

Around the white chalk circle that you’ve drawn around yourself, there lie scattered a variety of other paraphernalia – salts, pendants and symbols that only precious few would realize as truly occult materials. You’ve positioned them elaborately as part of the ritual, knowing that one misplaced object and you would never have the chance to have the encounter you so desperately craved.

A quick glance to the left reveals the time- it’s three minutes closer to midnight. Normally you would have checked the glowing screen of your phone, but there can’t be other light aside from the single candle in the room.

You know that they’re already waiting.

The knife clutched in your spare hand slides over the surface of your palm. You hold it firmly, trying to ignore the sharp throb of pain as red droplets begin to swell past the broken skin. You raise your wounded hand over your head, allowing a few scarlet droplets to fall onto the ground as your slowly start to murmur an ancient incantation under your breath.

It won’t be long now.

     A swirling, smoky vortex opens in the ceiling as the room starts shaking with an unknown energy. The numerous objects are rattled about on the floor and the candle shivers in the invisible breeze, threatening to extinguish. The slight twinge of fear you feel is almost enough to make you leave your circle.

But restraint pulls you back. You know you can’t ever leave the circle- not until the ritual has finished.

You know that there are others out there- others who are far more malevolent than the one that you intend to bring into this world. And that stepping out of the circle will ensure that you probably won’t leave this room alive either.

Just keep calm until dawn, you remind yourself. After all, it’s not just you that you’re doing this for.

The violent rumbles cease, the room suddenly plunged into darkness. Your ribcage hitches with fear as you look around into the darkness, but the candle suddenly reanimates to illuminate a figure that has materialized outside the circle, with a pair of eyes that glow with a bright, otherworldly energy, directly fixed on you.





The form that sits in front of you is humanoid, yes. But you know deep within that this appearance is only for you, that their true form would be too much for your mind to take, despite your decidedly different tastes. It is a form that could be called ‘hideous’ by other humans, if they didn’t scream first. A human face sits like a mask over a pair of slobbering, sharp-toothed jaws that stand over a mass of pulsating tentacles.

Amidst the terror and the trepidation that roots you to the spot, you feel an overwhelming love for the barely human presence that faces you.  You extend your hands, making sure not to leave your circle as you slowly embrace them.

       They purr into your neck as they practically encase you within a living cocoon of their tentacles. A massive pulsating tongue leaves their now extended jaws and eagerly licks the side of your face, smooth and intimate. They murmur low throaty growls, or perhaps words of an ancient language now lost upon human ears. Although you can never truly understand what they are saying, you understand the intimacy of their actions.

After all, they’ve been waiting for you.

You take in the sight of them, their fleshly, tentacled, vaguely humanoid outline that so eagerly embraces you and their sweet scent, something that seems to belong to something so much purer than a creature whose whole form is the living embodiment of decadence and decay.

The mockery of the human form which they take only reminds you of the drastic differences between you. They’re different from you, so different that it should be impossible for you both to look each other in the eyes, let alone love like this. Your lover exists beyond the realms of mortal comprehension, beyond the limits of imagination. They come from a place which few know about, and even fewer believe in. A place beyond all time and space.


That mask-like face gleams out at you with a twisted grin. It’s enough to fuel the nightmares of anyone else who would have laid eyes on it, but when you look at those otherworldly eyes, all you see is love. An ancient, unyielding love, reserved entirely for you.


As hideous as they are, you can’t help but love them.

You feel their many limbs sucker onto your skin., rubbing up and down your body as they pull you closer. Shuddering, you can only find yourself falling further into them.

Even though it was you who brought them here, it’s they who have you now- mind, body and soul.

And you couldn’t be happier.

     A tentacle caresses the side of your face, dusky surface shimmering in the wavering candlelight like the most unknowable depths of the universe. Before, you never thought that something so simple could make you feel so complete.


You wish that you could somehow leave the chalk circle you’re confined in, to hold them in your arms the way they hold you, the way you’ve always wanted to. It pains you from the bottom of your heart that you can’t.

It was a rift in space time that brought you both together, but two worlds that forever separate you. You know that you can’t belong in theirs, and neither can they belong in yours. The sights of their world would blind your eyes, the sounds would destroy your ears, the alien sensations would all but shred your skin from your body.

You know that this is the only way that you can truly be together.

And somehow, it pains you more than comforts you.

But you find yourself determined to make the most of what little time you have left with them. With how much they mean to you, you want to treat them like the untouchable treasure that they are.

      After your long, passionate embrace together, your eyelids shudder into the temptation of sleep, you find yourself being lightly nudged awake by a tentacle. There’s a low, concerned growl as the many eyes on your lover’s lower body turn in the direction of the flickering candle.

Still drowsy, you initially struggle to understand their meaning. Then your pain returns tenfold.

It’s almost warning, they tell you through their touches, warning you that they must return to their own dimension before dawn. The ritual only offers so little time together.

With a pained sigh, you press your head to the bony, unnatural surface of their false one, feeling a guttural, sad moan reverberate up from their massive anglerfish-like jaws beneath. You don’t want to leave them.

But you know you have to.

Stifling back the tears that threaten to break your vision, you allow them to hold you for one last time, their high, unnatural whine breaking the unnatural silence of the room.

You exhale.

“I love you,” you tell them.

They growl again, still as deep and intimidating as before, but you hear the affection they hold for you in it. Your head falls into their lap, cradled by a writhing mass of eldritch tentacles, more content than you’ve ever been before in your life. Their mask of a face stares down at you as you look at up at it, forever watching over you.

      Streams of dawn break through your shuttered eyelids and you awaken to find yourself alone in the centre of the room. It’s the early morning and sunlight now streams through the windows in place of the tepid darkness you had lost yourself in last night- lost yourself with them.

By this time, they’re long since gone. The room holds no trace of either them or your nightly encounter, pardon a sweetish smell, like wilted spring flowers. It was as if they were nothing but a bittersweet nightmare.

You pick up the long extinguished candle with a sad smile.

It’s better this way, you try to tell yourself.

Turning back to the morning sun, you try to forget the past night and all that happened, try to forget the ritual as just a dream. Even as you face the new day, you already notice that the sides of your face are already wet with tears of past memories.

dragonlover123a  asked:

Can I get some love from the dark boys please? I'm not feeling well emotionally

Dark slides his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. 
“What seems to be the worry, dear?” He purred in your ear. His  fingers gently massaging your hips. “Don’t worry, we’re here to help.” 
Anti smiled at you from some distance away, seemingly trying to picklock a door to get into the family house. 
“Don’t worry, everything will be ok. Just let me get inside and I’ll get some treats for you.” 

Natemare’s head poked out of one of the windows above them. “Oi! Stop messing with that door! They’re already apart of the family you idiot. Just let them in and we’ll look after them.” Mare smiled at you, “They’re not the best people to get comfort from, come up here and the family can look after you.”
Dark growled, his hold on you becoming firm. “Among that infestation? I don’t think so.”

morgancorbin  asked:

49&60 with Dash Wilder?

“What are you thinking babe?” your boyfriend of two year put his head on your chest wrapping an arm around your waist. You are so deep in thought that you hadn’t noticed Dash cuddling with you. 

Dash rose his head up to see you still in your thoughts not paying attention to him.  He leaned over kissing your cheek, your gaze broke from the ceiling to your boyfriend. 

“ Hey” you greeted him with a smile. 

“ Hey yourself. I’ve been trying to call you but you seem so distracted. Is something wrong?” you shook your head. Cupping the side of his face running your thumb over his facial hair near his chin.He leaned into your touch looking down at you lovingly.

“ I was just thinking that you’d be a great dad” Dash turned his head to kiss your palm. “ What brought you to that thought?” 

“ I just imagined starting a family with you” 

“ Really?” you nod, sitting causing Dash to sit. You hooked your arms around his neck staring into his eyes. “ I love you baby, more than anything in the world. I want to have a little one of our own, our little miracle. What do you say?” 

“ Let’s have a baby” 

Sam’s Dilemma (a drabble)

Hey guys. I’m back. Thank you if you helped me yesterday. I’m better now. I’m going to go back to drabbles for a little bit while I work on my longer stories. Hope you like my mini stories!

“Saaammmmy,” whispered the demon, directly in Sam’s ear. He flinched, but the fact that he was tied up, arms strung up above his head, toes barely brushing the floor, did not allow him much opportunity to fight back.

“You sorry son of a bitch, I’m going to kill you” Sam gasped for breath, the gash in his side still dripping with blood.

The demon smiled, “I’d like to see you try.” Sam wondered if Dean had been able to escape. He knew they were attacked together. Ambushed, more specifically. But he couldn’t see anything as the room was pitch black. He didn’t know if Dean was with him or not. He hoped with all his heart that Dean was going to come for him. He was close to unconsciousness and he wasn’t sure how much longer the demon was going to keep him alive.

“What do you want?” Sam managed to ask.

“Please, you’re a fucking Winchester, isn’t that enough?” the demon scoffed.

Sam dangled from the ceiling, his thoughts consuming him as he succumbed to the darkness.

Where the hell was Dean?


Squee’s Sam Supporters: as always, let me know if you’d like to be added!

@malicezero @crossroadsangelcastiel  @legosandanarmyman @superwholocklotr95   @agent-superwholockian   @goodnitejerk   @hannahindie  @sille1992  @destielmixtape   @carryonmybaby @pieandzombies   @electronictacocollection  @supernatural-visuals   @ravenangel33   @super-hannah-natural  @godshipsit   @passmesomepie   @amadtributewithaship @burnbrightest   @eowynties @iflostreturntofandoms @jessikared97 @impala-dreamer @sabath68 @sea040561 @nanzm @wanderingcas @arwenadreamer  @dreaminblue67 @ineedyoutoseeme @itsnotsammy @nothin-after-79

Bolded names..I can’t tag you?

jj-speaks  asked:

"You know it goes a little tighter right? If it's loose, it rubs me raw..." Jean reached back, tightening the strap and buckle on his collar. "See? It's not choking me, and it's still comfortable..." He sighed, rolling his neck to get comfortable before glancing at his red and black leash laying beside the pair of them. "I'll let you do the honors but first...what do I call you..?"

Georgi smirks, glancing up to his pup and smiling bright. “You can try daddy, master, whatever you like~ But when I pull on this leash, I hope to hear it nice and loud~”


With a hand wrapping around the leash, he gives it a nice firm tug. “Bend over or ride me~”

why i admire the moon signs
  • aries moon: you are so indipendent and brave. you always stand up for people you love and things you believe in. you proudly wear your heart on your sleeve and you are not ashamed of your inner fire. your spirit can move mountains.
  • taurus moon: there is a basic calmness to you that makes everyone feels safe and at peace. you are patient and kind even to those who hurt you. you manage to find beauty in everything, especially in the smallest things. you have the biggest heart.
  • gemini moon: your enthusiasm is contagious. you have such a way with words, i could listen to you talking for hours without getting tired of the sound of your voice. everyone admires you for your intelligence and curiousness. you make people appreciate life.
  • cancer moon: no one understands the profound depth of human emotions the way you do. you are so empathetic, selfless, nurturing. you always place the well-being of others above your own and try to put on a smile on everyone's face. you have the purest soul.
  • leo moon: you are majestic. the way you carry yourself inspires others to be strong, confident, free. you always strive to be the best, even though people are already aware of your brilliance. you love with your whole heart. you are radiant.
  • virgo moon: your mind is bright and insightful. you are constantly striving to reach perfection and never underestimate the details. you give great importance to small gestures. you are the person everyone wants to come home to.
  • libra moon: you are harmonious. you always have a kind word for everyone you meet and you deeply believe in the power of love. you are graceful, pleasant and charming. people adore your company because you bring them peace.
  • scorpio moon: you are magnetic and intriguing, you are a mystery everyone wants to unfold. your personality is addicting. you feel deeply and love intensely because you are not afraid to go beneath the surface. you have the key to the world of the unknown. you emanate power.
  • sagittarius moon: your spirit is adventurous, yet you manage to balance knowledge and entertainment perfectly. you have such a wide range of interests you can strike a conversation with pretty much everyone. the whole world is your home.
  • capricorn moon: you are a natural born leader. you inspire admiration.you are humble and disciplined. you take everyone's matters into your own hands and try to protect people with your wisdom and maturity. you are going to conquer the world.
  • aquarius moon: you are a rebel. you are not afraid to be yourself. you embrace your quirks. you have an unconventional approach to life and you take pride in standing out of the crowd. you are very open-minded and non judgemental. your ideas are going to change the world.
  • pisces moon: your creativity knows no limits. you have a kind, empathetic, spiritual soul, and a big, sensitive heart. everyone is amazed by the beauty and the complexity of your imagination. you can turn dreams into reality.
2

Subtlety, thy name is Marinette.

Antibug


Bonus:

While the girls in the class might think they’re sneaking off for a secret makeout session, the boys know better ¬‿¬ 

Animan

This is for the beautiful @stylesforinfinity who is an absolute babe and who yesterday was super sweet about my writing, so this is the only form of thank you that seems adequate. 

This isn’t how Andrew expected the day to go…

The day starts normal enough. Or as normal as it can with house guests. He and Neil picked up Nicky and Erik from the airport yesterday, and with the jetlag, both are up especially early. It’s them puttering about in the kitchen–the gurgling of the coffee maker, the clinking of mugs, and their whispered voices–that wakes Andrew. Andrew opens his eyes to Neil still fast asleep beside him. The striker’s cheek is creased from where it’s pressed into the pillow, and his bangs have curled over his eyes. Andrew’s fingers twitch to fix it. 

It’s only a few moments before Neil’s eyes flutter open, the blue of them softened by the early morning sun bleeding in through the curtains. 

“Morning,” Neil mumbles, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. 

Keep reading

You’re His Ex Girlfriend and You See His New Girlfriend Wearing Your T-Shirt: Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist linked in bio


If she closes her eyes hard enough, and just at the right moments, Y/n can feel Harry in Dan.

It’s quite peculiar, how she finds Harry in almost anything. It’s something she finds so riveting yet so dangerous at the same time. He’s everywhere, he’s in every breath she takes and in every move she makes, and it’s something that brings her an overwhelming sense of comfort yet an overbearing sense of instability.

Dan—an individual full of insecurities and excitement—who varies oh, so differently from Harry, can feel like him if she really tries hard enough. His arms don’t hold her quite the same, and his lips aren’t as soft and flavorful, but if she squeezes her eyes shut, and she loses herself in the memories of Harry, it’s like he’s almost back again—only in the most minuscule of ways.

Which is why, now, in this moment in time, Y/n can barely keep her eyes open.

It’s the first time Y/n brought Dan to the house, letting him stop by to watch a film after his shift. It’s a little something he’s wanted to do for a while, and after many coffee dates and many pleads from Dan, she finally took the step of being completely alone with him.

Gabby decided to go to a friends house and insisted they take their time together. It started off wonderfully; a bottle of red wine, a box of chocolates, and a bag of popcorn while they watched Jaws.

It was all wonderful, until Dan decided to make the move.

Dan is on top of her, lips connecting to hers in a lustful motion. It isn’t that Y/n doesn’t want to be in this position, but more of her being hesitant to do so. She hasn’t kissed anybody since Harry, and although Dan is one of the nicest people she’s ever met, she can’t find it within herself to keep moving any more forward.

And everything about it feels wrong.

Between all the touching, all the kissing, all the feelings within her, she can’t stop thinking about Harry. She can’t stop thinking about how much she misses him and how much she wants him back. She’s still in love with him, so much so that doing this with someone else makes her feel dirty—makes her feel like she’s betraying him.

And it’s all too much, because no matter how hard she closes her eyes, no matter how hard she tries to feel him, he’s not there, and she can’t help but seem to think that he never will be—not anymore.

“No, no, stop.” She whimpers, shaking her head in an attempt to reject Dan’s restless lips.

He doesn’t stop, however, too engaged in the moment to really understand the words stuttering from her mouth. He continues kissing her, instead, moving down to her collarbones.

At this point, Y/n starts to hyperventilate. Between the sobs daring to escape her chest and the lack of air from her previous activities, everything is straining against her. She doesn’t fully understand how she was able to get this far without it being with Harry.

“Stop!”

Her arms push Dan off of her until she’s alone on the couch as he’s panting on the floor. She can’t breathe. Her chest is tightening and her cries are so harsh that her lungs are collapsing inside of her.

She reaches her hands up to the roots of her hair, pulling back on them as she tries to gather all the oxygen she can. At this point, her head feels light and her sight is completely blurred by the tears flowing out of them—ones that she doesn’t even try to stop.

“I’m s—so sor—ry.” She hiccups, her head falling to her hands.

Dan gulps as he tentatively stands from his spot on the floor, his hands up in front of him as if in a panic—trying desperately to figure out how to fix the mess being made in front of him.

He looks around the room, as if in search for something to guide him through this situation, but there’s nothing. All the room occupies is a broken woman, sobbing breathlessly on a couch in front of him, muttering incoherent phrases under her breath.

“Okay,” he huffs out, nodding his head to himself, “It’s okay, yeah? You’re okay?”

He occupies the empty spot next to her, hesitantly wrapping an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. In all honesty, Dan is complete shit at helping people during emotional breakdowns, and considering this one had happened so suddenly, he had absolutely no warning that he would be put in this position.

Y/n feels bad, she does, considering Dan doesn’t deserve the treatment she’s given him and surely doesn’t deserve what was once an innocent date to end up a complete disaster. But she can’t help it, and she can’t stop now, no matter how hard she tries.

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?”

His voice is nothing but a whisper, and the words that spoke out from his lips nearly brings every movement in Y/n’s body to a halt. She never told him that it was Harry who broke her heart, and to be honest, she doesn’t even find the strength within her to begin to question how he even knows of Harry—especially his relationship with her.

Of course, their relationship has been publicized for years, but Dan is a very closed-off type of person. He’s not much into music, either—another part of him that differs so drastically from Harry—and spends a majority of his time working or spending time outside rather than succumbing himself in social media.

He looks down at the rose ring wrapped around his pointer finger, twirling it around with the hand that was once wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders.

He knew the moment he saw Harry’s reaction that this ring very much belonged to him. He wasn’t quite sure why she sacrificed it so mindlessly—why it seemed to have no story behind it. But between everything Gabby’s told him and everything he’s gathered from her previous relationship, she wanted nothing more than to get rid of every reminder she had of him.

He doesn’t feel worthy enough for it, though. If Y/n and Harry don’t find their way back to each other, he feels she should at least give it to somebody that she loves, not somebody she needs to help her get over her heartbreak.

He slides it off his finger, placing it gently on the palm of his hand before closing his fingers into a fist.

“We can’t keep doing this, Y/n. Not if you can’t talk to me.” He mutters softly, “Not if you’re still in love with him, we’ll be getting nowhere.”

This makes her cry harder. She still doesn’t have the audacity to look up at him, no, how could she? After everything she’s done?

This is why she always ends up alone. No matter how in love she is, no matter how much effort she puts into a relationship, they always end up leaving her. It’s happened long before Harry, and she was so convinced he’d stay when he came around. She was so dead set on him being her forever, but the same thing happened again. He left, just like everyone else.

And now, Dan is leaving her, and although she can’t exactly blame him for doing so, it’s another wound to her heart—it’s another pain in her chest that only seems to increase with pain.

He sighs sadly at the sight in front of him, upset with himself that he’s probably a partial reason for her soul-shaking sobs and lack of air, but he has no other choice. If he stays with her, he’d be forcing her to love someone she doesn’t. He has to let her go if it means to possibly make amends with her happiness again.

He takes one of her shaking hands away from her face and bringing it towards his lap, spreading her fingers away from her palm so that he can set the ring softly against it.

She sobs at the sight, bringing her opposite hand to her mouth as she tries to quiet herself down.

“This was Harry’s, it always was. This belongs to you, Y/n, not me.”

She nods, trying her best to smile at him as a form of appreciation, but it fails miserably. He understands, though, that she cares, and doesn’t ask her any questions.

“I’ll let Gabby know to come home now, okay?”

He kisses the top of her head, the way he always does, before removing himself from the couch and toward the front door.

“Take care of yourself, Y/n. I mean it.”

And then, he’s gone, leaving Y/n alone in an empty house and her haunting thoughts. She feels the world is closing in on her, only giving her a restricted amount of air and a limited amount of light to see what’s in front of her.

She’s alone—she’s left by herself in a dark room that’s only being illuminated by the television light, where nobody can hear her, where nobody can touch her, where nobody can see her; in a place where she just can’t trust herself.

She’s left alone, as she’s always left, and she just can’t take it anymore.

Her emotions become so strong that her body collapses onto the floor, her head throbbing and throat burning from all the tears and cries. She can’t breathe, her lungs failing to take in oxygen and her chest is pounding.

It’s so bad that if Gabby doesn’t come home soon, she actually believes she’s going to die. She feels the tug on her heart and feels how hard it is for it to do its job properly—she practically feels it overworking itself.

“Oh, God.”

Gabby finds her on the floor, making her immediately drop her purse and run to her collapsed body. Y/n is a withering mess underneath her, completely drenched in sweat as violent sobs erupt from her body.

She’s quick to sit her up properly onto the floor before lifting her back onto the couch, running a comforting hand down the side of her neck as she begins to shush her down to a calm state. However, her attempt falters when Y/n shakes her head to remove Gabby’s touch from her neck.

“I can’t—I can’t—“

She tries to find words to explain what’s happening to her right now. Between the pain in her body and the feeling in her head, her brain is scrambling with so many fearful thoughts that the only thing she can truly comprehend is being saved from this horrifying feeling.

“Hospital.”

Gabby is taken aback when she says it, completely astonished by just how serious this all is. She realizes this isn’t a situation that she can fix on her own, and it makes her feel like such a bad friend that she can’t give her what she needs.

Tears fall from her eyes in panic, well aware that her friend is undergoing something far worse than a mental breakdown, but also knows that the hospital won’t be able to help her.

Only Harry can.

“Let me call for help, okay?“ She asks softly. “I’m gonna send help.”

When Harry sees Gabby’s contact light up his phone, something inside of him instantly fills with worry. He knows, without a doubt, that Gabby hates him more than anybody ever since what happened. And knowing her so well, she would never reach out to him, especially when her negative feelings toward him were so strong, unless it’s serious.

“Gabby?”

“You have to do something, Harry.” She cries through the phone, peaking over her shoulder to look over Y/n from her location in the kitchen.

She’s still a mess, holding her hand over her heart as if it were going to mend the pain. Her head is thrown over the back of the couch, her other hand running over her face continuously. Her sobs haven’t settled, only seeming to increase with panic over the unfamiliar reaction occurring over her body.

“She thinks you don’t want her and—Harry she thinks she’s dying. Her heart is so broken. She keeps saying her heart is going to fail her and I don’t—I don’t know what to do. I don’t think there’s anything I can do. She—she was trying so hard. Harry, please, you have to—you have to—“

Harry leans on his elbows over the kitchen counter, huffing out a shaky breath when he hears both Gabby and Y/n’s cries through the phone. He rubs his hand over his face, doing anything to prevent the tears nearly pooling out from his eyes.

He’d be lying if he said that guilt isn’t eating him alive in this moment. And it’s not that he hasn’t felt any remorse or any guilt since he’d broken Y/n’s heart, but he’s now fully aware that he has to look at the damage he’s done. He’ll have to witness all the pain, all the heartbreak he’s put her through, and nothing makes him feel worse.

“I’ll do anything.” He whimpers. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I promise, I won’t keep doing this to her, you have to believe me. Just—“ he lets out a broken breath, reaching his hand up to rub his eyes to prevent any tears from escaping, “just tell me what to do.”

Gabby wipes the tears from her cheeks, yet again peering over to watch over Y/n on the couch. To her dismay, there is absolutely no improvement.

“Come here, pick her up, and bring her home. Just talk to her, please. Nothing makes her feel worse than believing you don’t want her anymore. Hell, even if you don’t—I don’t know with you anymore—just give her something. You’re the only one that can fix this.”

He sighs, nodding his head before making his way out of his house without much of a response to her. He’s only concerned for Y/n, and is so focused on getting to her so that he can prove to her that he’s changed—that he’s not the same Harry he was and is going to be there for her for as long as his life lasts, even if she doesn’t allow it.

But it’s upon arrival he realizes how much more serious this is than he thought. She’s completely breaking down, every inch of her shaking and fear written on her face. She’s a complete and utter mess, a completely wrecked version of such a beautiful, unbroken woman who had so much love in her heart and surrounded by so much love in the air.

And even though Harry knows she believes she’s going to die, apart of him believes she’s already dead. The life inside of her has burned out and is now just a product of what once was. The Y/n he always known is long gone—so far gone he almost doesn’t believe it’s her.

He looks at her with the most distraught and sympathetic look Gabby has ever seen. She has never seen so much guilt in somebody before that—no matter how much she hates him—she can’t help but feel sorry for him, too.

“Baby, hey. Hey now, it’s alright.” He whispers, kneeling in front of Y/n’s shaking figure and tentatively reaching for her hair so that he can attempt to calm her down. “I’m here now, I’m right here.”

A pitiful sound leaves her lips when she looks up at him; something between a whine, a sob, and a groan. It’s messy from her throat being raw from all the screaming and cries, and it leaves an indescribable pain that only makes her cries stronger.

She can’t even think properly, everything in her body overworking itself. It’s something she’s never experienced before, and all the fears of it being permanent rush through her veins—leaving her with an overwhelming amount of anxiety.

“She’s having a panic attack.” Harry mumbles to Gabby, making sure to rub gently over the back of Y/n’s neck. Although panic attacks weren’t common for her, whenever she was overwhelmed and stressed, this gesture always seemed calmed her down.

“I don’t know what to do. I can’t drive with her like this I—Gabby, how do I focus with her like this?” He cries, the situation in front of him making his body turn to shambles, “Especially when it’s my fault? How do I—do I keep her here until she’s calm? I don’t—I don’t know—”

Gabby shakes her head, reaching her hand over to graze his tense shoulder. She squeezes the muscle softly, almost as a sort of reassurance.

“She needs home, Harry—” she whispers, “she needs you.

He nods, choking back sobs as he brushes the hair out of Y/n’s face. The skin of her face is red and completely soaked, but this is the first time he’s seen her since the morning in the grocery store, and she’s never looked so beautiful.

“I’m going to take you home with me, Y/n. But I need you to breathe for me, can you do that?” He asks, holding her face delicately between his hands, “Breathe with me.”

Y/n sucks in a deep breath when Harry inhales deeply, attempting to rid all the anxiety and pain settling inside of her. Her inhale is broken between hiccups and cries, but as she keeps eye contact with him as she tries to calm down, a little part of her feels revived.

“It hurts.” She whimpers between sobs, referring to the pain in her chest and the throbbing in her head that just can’t seem to heal.

She watches as Harry’s face scrunches with an agonizing cry, and she knows he’s aware of exactly what she’s talking about. She’s been brokenhearted for so long, she doesn’t even think he’s the least bit shocked when she tells him her heart is hurting.

“I know, baby. I know.” He whispers as he kisses her forehead gently. “Let’s get you home, yeah? Make you feel better?”

And as much as she wants to hate him, or yell at him for everything he’s done to her and make him understand just how much of her life he’s ruined, she genuinely feels like her body is going to collapse at any given moment. She needs him, even if it’s just for right now, she has to just focus on everything happening in the now. Harry’s come back to her and she’s about to go back home.

Because if she doesn’t think about the present moment—Harry holding her, Harry kissing her, Harry about to take the both of them back to their house—she’ll never find a way to fix herself. She’ll be stuck in this anxiety and pain for far too long—so long that it could actually kill her.

So she closes her eyes, only focusing on his touch and his breath fanning over her wet face. She forgets the t-shirt, she forgets all the times he’s ignored her after declaring them to take a break, and she forgets about Jessica. At least for right now, she can focus on all that tomorrow.

She nods, and it’s then Harry notices how much more calm she is. Although she’s still crying and still incapable of speaking much from the aching in her throat, she’s breathing properly again and her once undying sobs have turned into soft whimpers.

He leans in so that he can properly wrap his arms around her, hooking one hand on her back and the other under her knees. There’s no way in hell she’s capable of walking—not like this, and in all honesty, he would much rather hold her now than leave her side for another second.

It’s when Y/n is being held so close to him again that the aching in her chest seems to almost vanish completely. And although there is still a weight on top of her lungs, and still a slight uncomfortableness in her heart, she’s finally able to breathe again.

“I’m gonna make this all better, okay? I promise you, gonna fix you.” He mumbles with his lips against her hairline, making sure to keep rubbing the back of her neck softly.

It’s a promise he intends on keeping—a promise he never plans on breaking again. He could never live with himself if he were to keep putting her through all of this pain. She’s the most undeserving person—he knows that—and he knows she’s too pure to go through all that she’s been through the past couple of months.

The car ride is completely silent, only Y/n’s cries and small sniffles filling the empty space. Although she still isn’t completely calm, she’s improved so much since he first came to pick her up and it is able to keep his mind at ease. At least while he drives.

And he doesn’t miss her hand sneaking over the console to intertwine her fingers with his. He doesn’t expect it but he also doesn’t mind it. If anything, it makes him feel better just as much as it does her.

When they pull up to the driveway of their once shared house, every bit of composure she’s withheld in her body is breaking down by the second. Her strength is wearing thin, and knowing she’ll be reuniting in the house where Y/n and Harry once had everything makes her more afraid than ever.

Harry notices her sudden shift in mood and doesn’t hesitate to unbuckle himself from his seat and walk around the car to where her exhausted figure is sobbing, slumped against the passenger seat. He sighs meekly before unbuckling her, as well, and lifting her against him the way he had before.

“Hey there, s’alright, I’m here. We’ll work this out, but you need to sleep first, yeah? Looking very pale and I know you well enough to see you’ve been lacking sleep.”

Although they both know Y/n isn’t going to respond, she wants to continue listening to him speak. It’s something she hasn’t heard in so long, and she wouldn’t even care if he was talking about the goddamn weather, she just wants to hear him again.

He keeps talking, too, because he notices the effects of his voice on her anxiety and how the muscles in her body relax under his words. He’ll stop at nothing to make sure she’s okay again, even if it means having a one-sided conversation.

“You know how you are, too—grumpy and sensitive when you’re tired. Almost take my head off if you don’t get more than seven hours. Remember that one time at my mum’s Christmas dinner party? Barely slept the night before from wrapping so many gifts that you genuinely got upset with me for not knowing your favorite alcoholic beverage.” He chuckles softly. “Funny lil thing.“

Through the nonstop crying and the frown that hasn’t left Y/n’s lips in what feels like an eternity, the first smile stretches from her lips. It’s the smallest closed mouth smile he’s ever seen, but it’s there, and it’s the most genuine feeling of happiness she’s had in so long.

When Harry unlocks the door, he wastes no time making his way over to their couch. He knows very well that she wouldn’t want to sleep on their bed, considering she’s well aware of what he did with Jessica on that bed and he wants no reason to upset her any further.

He sets her down in front of the couch, petting the top of her head softly before gathering a blanket and a pillow for her to sleep on.

He sets it up like a bed, almost, before turning to leave so that she can have her privacy. He doesn’t think she’d want to sleep with him, so he decides to sleep in the guest bedroom since he knows she’d always pick the living room couch over that room.

But before he gets too far, Y/n weakly captures his fingers in hers, pulling him back towards her.

His head snaps down to her finger, noticing the rose ring being worn beautifully on her middle finger. He almost chokes when he sees it on her, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in half confusion and half in awe.

“Please,” she whimpers, “stay.”

He snaps out of his trance at her words, slowly nodding his head as a small “of course” falls from his lips.

He lays comfortably on the couch, looking up at her when he finds a position where she can lay beside him.

“If you want you can take the—alright” he huffs.

His eyes narrow as he watches her lay on top of him—fully on top of him; her cheek nesting right where his shoulder meets his neck as her arms slither around his sides until her hands meet under his back. Her legs tangle perfectly in between his, and in any other circumstance, this probably wouldn’t have been an ideal sleeping position for the either of them. But Y/n is exhausted, both physically and mentally, and she feels this is the only position she can sleep.

Harry doesn’t mind, and easily ignores the subtle uncomfortableness in his back as he wraps his arms securely around her frame.

Although Y/n is already fast asleep on top of it, he’s unsure how he can close his eyes for longer than a blink. This could be the last chance he has to be with her in this way. He’s unsure what tomorrow holds for the both of them and their relationship—it could end entirely or create an entirely new beginning.

With the possibilities almost endless against their favor, he doesn’t want to miss a second of what could be the last of her in his life. So, he embraces the feeling of her tight hold, the little puddle of drool on the shoulder of his t-shirt, and the tickle on his chin from her loose strands of hair, because this could be the last time he feels all of that.

But he also can’t help but feel that small bit of hope still latching onto him. That somewhere—deep down—he knows they belong to each other for the rest of their lives. And that, maybe, if the universe decides that their relationship should end tomorrow, he knows destiny will find a way for the both of them again.

So, he holds her a little tighter, breathes her in a little harsher, and soaks up all the extra warmth in her body, and prays that everything will be okay.

and so the saga of these a+ drawings continues