*puddle of crow on the floor*

The Break In Harry x Reader

So, for the first time ever I got a x reader prompt from a nice annonymous. I don’t know why, I guess it wasn’t supposed to go to me? Anyway, I decided to still do it, because it sounded lile fun :D And it was :D fair warning, I’m not british, not even american, so there will be mistakes in my english. It doesn’t matter how often I read it over

Promp: would you write a HarryHartxReader where Harry gets a call or something that his girlfriend is about to be attacked and he hurries to help, but she is no damsel in distress? Pretty Please?

The Break-In

Harry arrived home in a quarter of the time it usually takes him. He had gotten a message on his cell from an unknown number just as he was about to head home. That alone had been a cause for concern, but the message in itself had him grab Eggsy and jump into the Taxi.

What a beautiful house, and beautiful woman.

The whole drive imagines were running through his head. Of you lying motionless in the entrance. Of you, being forcefully dragged out of your home and taken who knows where. Of you being beaten, shot, tortured.

Eggsy sat beside him, checking his weapons. Harry had just shown him the text message, not able to voice his concern. He gripped his most trusted weapon, his umbrella, tightly, willing the driver to go faster.

As soon as the taxi came to a screeching halt, the two spy’s burst out of the door, Eggsy helpfully informing Merlin that they have arrived.

Harry, without any of his usual calm and stealth crashed through the door, weapon ready to fire. The door had been pried open prior, confirming that the message had been no idle threat. Eggsy and Harry went inside, clearing the way as they went. As soon as they reached the living room however, they stopped short.

The room was a mess. Upturned furniture, broken lamps, none of it unexpected, though. Three struggling men, hog tied on the floor however were. You sitting on top of a dazed fourth man, tying his hands, too.

“Fuck me,” Eggsy exclaimed, quite impressed.

“Y/N?” Harry asked, shocked. You looked up from your task, face flushed from the exertion.

“Hey, boys,” you grinned, finishing the last knot. “You are a little late for the party.”

Your voice broke your boyfriend out of his stupor and Harry rushed to you, if he delivered smacks with his umbrella to the bound man no one mentioned it.

“Y/N,” he asked again, calmer and more collected now. “Are you alright, my dear?” He pulled you off of the man beneath you and directly into his arms, too relieved.

“I am.” Now, being safely enclosed in his arms, you felt your body relax for the first time since you heard concerning scratches from the front door. You pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly, sagging into Harry’s hold. “I am.”

Harry tightened his hold for a second then pushed you away by the shoulders to take a look at you. You let him soak you in for a moment, knowing he needed it and you also needed a second to calm you wildly beating heart. On Harry’s face, you could read all kinds of emotions as he noticed every little cut and every bruise on you, his hands tightened on your shoulders. If Eggsy weren’t busy already with getting the culprits out of your house, you were sure Harry would fall into the role of the avenging boyfriend. As it was, he carefully stroked your bruised cheek and reeled you back in when you winced slightly.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled into your hair. “I never wanted you in danger, my love.”

“Well, as you can see, I might not be a tailor,” You could hear Eggsy snort as you stressed the job name, “but I’m not helpless.” So, it was mostly luck that you were able to overcome the intruder. Luck, and them being sexist, macho guys, thinking you would be a screaming, crying, puddle on the floor as soon as they touched you. They didn’t expect you to fight back with everything in your reach. They sure didn’t expect to be tied up with their own belts and curtain cords by the end of it all.

“Damn, guv, your girl is bad ass,” Eggsy crowed after he’d brought away the last of the goons. “You should put a ring on it.”

“Eggsy,” Harry pulled away again finally and sighed dramatically.”

“I know, I know, a gentleman blah blah. I’m sure she gets the reference, though.” He grinned and finally deemed it safe to approach you too, certain Harry wouldn’t knock him out now for stepping into your personal bubble. He came over to give you a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Glad you’re alright, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Eggsy,” you smiled. Eggsy has become a dear friend and you thought it was one of Harry’s wisest choices to recruit the young man for his…tailor business. “And who, wouldn’t get that reference?” Both of you looked a Harry. “Never mind,” you said, leaning into Harry again. “He has other quality’s, I assure you.”

“Don’t I feel loved?” Harry frowned, but he couldn’t even pretend to be affronted, instead, he tilted your chin up to press your lips together.

“Look at the time,” Eggsy retreated quickly to the front door. “Merlin says hi, debrief tomorrow, with everyone involved present, Harry. So good night.” With that the young man was out the door.

The two of you barely noticed however, comfortable in each other’s presence, reassured that all was well for the moment. After your kiss you couldn’t help but move even closer, resting your head on his shoulder. He needed to finally explain what was going on. You hadn’t trusted a word about his job since your two month anniversary, but you had let it be. Now you needed to know what was going on, though. After all, no tailor would have enemies like this, and no tailor carries a gun like Eggsy did.

After all this time, however, it could wait until after Harry had tended to your, thankfully, superficial wounds and after a lot of cuddling. Because you didn’t know why you were that insane, but you knew, no matter what information you would gain about your boyfriend in the next 24 hours, if he ever decided to put a ring on it, you wouldn’t object.

Twenty One Months 1.5/3

Or, this was supposed to be a small fic fill for “I would love more misadventures of pregnant Mabel, panicky Dipper, and Henry” and it turned into this. Damnit.


2.5 months

Dipper came back from a summons to find his twin in her work out clothes, strapping her gloves on.

“Uh, Mabel, what are you doing?”

She gave him a look that said “I think I know where you’re going with this but I’m going to give you a chance anyway.”

What she actually said was, “Boxing practice, like every other day silly.”

Dipper paled. “But…but…you’re pregnant,” he finally managed to blurt out.

Mabel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Dipper, I’m just hitting a bag, the kids are currently the size of My thumbnail, and Dr. Freeman said it was fine.”

“What if the bag hits you the stomach?”

“It won’t.”

“But what if it does?”

“Trust me, it won’t.”

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