this has been lying around in my files for quite a while now

antishrug  asked:

please im begging you do the i love you prompt 24. for msr. "without really meaning it"

In Catholic Church, they’d told her lying was a sin worth six Hail Marys. But now, now she is the one who commands that others fall to their knees. Hands up. I’m armed.

She decides to test it out, just to see how it tastes. The love thing. The lying thing. He’s different than They’d said. Smarter. Unexpectedly kind in a way that makes her suspect it is bone deep, like you’d have to break it out of him. She is not cruel, but she has always loved a challenge. Loved memorizing the way bones grow back after they’re shattered.

She tells him at a gas station, leaned back against a blue car that has seen too much sun and bites at her skin. They are on their way to Paris, Texas and his stupid manila file had said something about killer cows. Three months ago she’d let him fuck her on his couch, which was part of the plan, and now she’s telling him this, which isn’t.

“I love you, you know.”

She hopes he doesn’t. They’ve known each other thirteen months. Two weeks ago she’d told him she had a date and had come back smelling like cigarettes and there’d been no jealousy, no anger in the way he held her hips that night.

He spills gas all over the cement, his eyes flicking up to hers. Oh, she thinks. Oh, god. She looks at the gas as the sharp sweet smell hits her. It leaks towards her shoes. He smiles, worries his lip for a moment then lets it out in full. He smiles. At a gas station outside Paris, Texas. As a kid she’d liked romance novels. She’d been a stickler for a happy ending.

She watches the gasoline spill. Thinks: Oh, now you’ve done it. She wishes for a cigarette. Wishes to drop an ash, a match, a spark and boom, all up in smoke.

He says “Scully” in that soft, pleading way she’s used to hearing from the opposite side of his bed or the desk in his office. She hates that it means something more than what she is. The way he says her name is a whole different lifetime strung up in syllables. He says it again, shaking his head like he can’t believe her (but he smiles, smiles) as he hangs up the gas nozzle. And then he kisses her soft (softer than ever before in this three month one night stand) against the biting blue car. She keeps her hands at her sides so as not to feel the sureness in him. But he is kind, bone-deep, unbreakably so, and so he does not say it back. If she loved him, she thinks, that would be a reason for it. If.

It was just an experiment, she tells herself as she pushes him gently away, spews some nonsense about being on a case and lets herself blush in a way she hopes he thinks is from some positive emotion. Just an experiment. She has always been curious. She will not say it again.

A year later, and she is remembering what her mother used to say about cats and curiosity, and she is thinking death would be a nice alternative to the inhuman stasis in which she’d found herself. A year in which she’d begun responding to Their questions about him with an uncanny defensiveness. Defense. When she’s the enemy. A year in which they’d taken her, just for the thrill of it, and when she’d come back to him her body had learned the nature of its owner and betrayed her. When she’d opened her eyes in the hospital, she could still feel the phantom touch of him holding her hand. She’d curled her fingers around the feeling like a stolen thing.

And then, weeks later, panicking with him above her on his couch (Oh my god, what did they do to me, crying. And his voice like a mantra: You’re okay, okay, okay) and somehow still falling asleep, fully clothed, in his arms. Three months of one night stands becoming a year of mornings. Sometimes she wakes up in his bed and he follows her like a puppy into the bathroom while she brushes her teeth. With him leaning against the door frame, talking about solipsism, and her foaming at the mouth, the only face she ever recognizes in the mirror is his.

Did you still tell a lie if now it’s the truth? Transfiguration, transmutation, genetic mutation. Adaptation. No, strike that. This is no longer about survival. She’d like to ask her priest about old lies. She has so much to confess.

“I love you,” she tells him, but just once, just once for real this time because, goddamn it, he’s gone and made her a fucking believer. Just once, because it is so much harder to watch him smile, to watch the kind, unbroken bones of his ribs rise and fall under her fingers, and tell him the truth. The truth which is that she loves, loves, loves him. The truth which is that he should not love her. The truth which is that she should leave him but she can’t and that’s not because she loves him at all.

The truth which is that in Med school, she’d never quite gotten past the improbability that skeletons could be repaired after they’d been broken.

“Love you, Scully,” he says, smile unmoving as he drifts off to sleep. Whole lifetimes strung up in syllables. Kind, unbreakable ribs expand slowly. Love you, he says, and means it. And she breaks her own heart, her own arm, her own legs so she can’t leave him. She cannot fathom how she’ll ever fit herself back together.

DOCTOR REN // masterlist

Request: Since professor Ren was such a hit, what if Kylo was a doctor. Doctor ren, the cold yet caring doctor and the reader is the nurse who assists him from time to time. Or based off the snl skit what if kylo is the nurse that assists the doctor reader from time to time. I don’t care which one, writers choice. Enjoy and thank you!

A/N: First of all, the idea actually came from the porn doctor skit so what better header to use than from it? Thanks to my friend @agentpeggicarter​ for the request/idea! As I promised, here’s doctor ren :) If you want more, please let me know!

Warning: None.

Word Count: 3.2K+

It felt quite liberating when the constant realization that you were done with med school had hit you. Although you had already wet your feet a while back while interning in the Resistance hospital, it felt completely different when you were now an actual nurse. It was your first day and you were more excited than anything.

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Someone to Stay - AU

Previous chapters

Chapter 3

“And this happened, how?”

Claire probed gently into the child’s scalp, retreating when his shoulders hunched in pain. The boy glanced up at her, smiling sheepishly. Fergus - as his chart read – reached out for his mother’s hand, who held it tightly with worry since walking into A&E.

“I was playing with my friends, in the backyard of Louis’s house. There were some rocks there and we took turns to see who could throw one the furthest, you know?” His legs started swinging back on forth, as he recounted his tale.

“Yes, I know,” Claire rolled her eyes, but smiled gently. “Continue.”

“And Louis took this giant rock and heaved it at the chain-link fence that separates his yard from the neighbors’ and the rock bounced back and hit me in the head. It hurt a lot, but I was alright, but then my friends started yelling something awful, and I felt a tickle on my face. It was my blood, a whole lot of it!” Fergus’s eyes grew wide in remembrance, and turned a little pale again. His mother squeezed his hand, shaking her head at the boys’ exploits.

“I see. Well, here’s the doctor now!” Claire swept aside as Dr. Abernathy joined them in the small room. “He’ll have you set to rights in no time.”

Claire assisted Dr. Abernathy as he anesthetized the area, and began suturing the torn scalp. Fergus cried out but once, and then pursed his lips bravely, while his mother turned away from the needle. In about twenty minutes, the doctor was done, and was busy giving the boy’s mother instructions on how to care for the wound and reassuring Fergus he would have a small “wicked scar” to show off to his friends.

Claire smiled and waved goodbye at the retreating patient. She began the final touches on the necessary paperwork before filing away the information at the nurses’ station. Her head bent over the documents, a shadow was suddenly cast over the paper.


She froze.

It had been four weeks since she’d last heard that voice. She wouldn’t pretend now that she hadn’t thought about it, or even missed it sometimes, but it was still unexpected. Fighting to get her features into control before they became transparent on her glass face, she took a deep breath and raised her head to look at him.

Frank’s face was the same, handsome and refined, with deep lines etched into the corners of his mouth. At times amused, others worried or even angry, today the lines told a story of contrition. Claire didn’t feel like reading it.

She set her lips into a straight line, and stared at Frank. She refused to be the one to speak first, and damned if she thought it was good to see him again, the lying cheating bastard.

“You lying, cheating bastard.” So much for self control.

“Claire, please…” Frank’s hands – so polished, so genteel – reached out to her, pleading, but not quite touching. “Listen, I have—“

“Nothing to say, and nothing I want to hear. I want you to leave.” Claire pushed her chair back, tossing the pen onto the papers and striding out of the nurses’ station, Frank right behind her.

“I know what I did was stupid, and unfair, and you did not deserve to find out like that, Claire, I’m sorry!” Once outside the A&E doors, he grasped her shoulder to stop her.

Claire whirled and shoved him back, catching him unawares. “No, I did not deserve that at all, you wanker!” She pushed her hair out of her face, and let her rage fly. “Four years, you sodding bastard! Four years of my life that I will never get back!” She walked back, tears streaming uncontrollably; after her trip to Scotland, back in London she had refused all contact with Frank, pushing him out of her thoughts and out of her life. He had made attempts, but she had changed her number and slept often at the hospital through endless shifts. Avoiding, resisting, trying to heal. “Go away!”

“Claire, I mean to explain and I want you to listen. Let’s go.” Frank came at her, intending to take her by the arm and drag her away somewhere they could talk without witnesses to his disgrace. His hand, poised to grab her, was slapped away by a figure looming behind Claire.

“I believe the lady asked ye to go.” That soft, burred cadence. Claire turned to find Jamie Fraser himself standing behind her, his eyes a steely blue. His gaze was trained on Frank, who retreated minutely in the face of this new threat.

“I don’t think this is any of your business. Leave us alone to talk, will you?” Frank’s bravado lasted all of ten seconds until Jamie stepped out from behind Claire and asserted his height and breadth of shoulder. In his black leather jacket and unkempt red hair he looked positively dangerous.

She had no words for what was unfolding before her, confused at seeing Jamie in London at her place of work, and watching him defend her from Frank’s unwelcome advances. Her heart surged with adrenaline; whether her fight response or Jamie’s presence was responsible, she didn’t know.

“Frank, please, just go. There’s nothing else to say,” Claire said. Jamie remained still as a statue in front of her, shielding her from Frank. Frank tried to peer around the tall Scot’s figure, but Jamie wouldn’t let him make eye contact.

“Ye heard her. Go now, before I make ye.” Jamie turned to Claire, and gestured towards the hospital doors. “Inside, mo nighean donn,  and call security if ye must.” The time elapsed had felt like hours to her, but only a few minutes had actually passed. Crossing the A&E doors, Dr. Abernathy met her and caught her by the elbows as Claire trembled slightly.

“Claire? What is it? Do you need help?” The good doctor glanced outside and watched the confrontation. “Who’s that?”

“Frank,” Claire managed. “He showed up, wanted to speak with me. I said no. He followed me outside, and then—well, Jamie was there.”

“I take it Jamie is the redhead. Here, Lady Jane.” Dr. Abernathy, calling Claire by his nickname for her, led her to an empty chair in the waiting room. Outside, Jamie called out to Frank using what sounded like a few choice curse words in Gaelic as Claire’s former partner disappeared around the corner, the back of his neck flushed red in anger.

Claire breathed a sigh of relief. Jamie walked through the automatic doors, and his eyes immediately went to Dr. Abernathy holding Claire’s hand in support. They tightened momentarily before his face broke out in a gentle smile.

“Hi, I’m Jamie, a friend of Claire’s.” He held out a large hand, forcing the doctor to relinquish his hold on her.

“I’m Joe Abernathy, a colleague of Claire’s. Thank you for your help, man. Lady Jane here was having a pretty rough time of it.” He shook Jamie’s hand fiercely in gratitude, and palmed his shoulder. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. LJ, take your break now, why don’t you.” Behind Jamie’s unsuspecting back, Dr. Abernathy winked and strolled off.

Claire flushed, cursing her glass face once again. She’d be lying (but only to herself) if she hadn’t thought about Jamie every once in a while for the past few weeks. A little. She glanced up at Jamie, who took a seat beside her on the uncomfortable chairs.

He broke the silence first. “Lady Jane?”

She took a deep breath and managed a smile. “Just a nickname Joe has for me. He’s American, and found my English accent hilarious when he first arrived.”

“And the other one? The rude one?” Jamie frowned.

“Thank you so much Jamie. That was… unexpected. Frank shouldn’t have been here,” said Claire, shuddering briefly.

“Frank. Was he yer bad romantic experience?”

“You remember that?” Claire asked in surprise.

“I remember many things about ye. Mostly, how I forgot to ask for yer number last time we met,” Jamie grinned. “Ye didn’t offer either, so…”

“So how come you’re here?” Claire blurted out before she could stop herself. Jamie brushed his hand against the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Weel—seeing as I had no way of contacting ye or even yer surname to go by, I asked Rupert. He was verra much enamored of yer friend Geillis, and he asked her about ye. For me, ye ken.”

“You’re in London. I thought you were on tour.”

“We’ve done with the tour. I wanted talk to ye. See ye, mebbe. Ask ye to join me for dinner, perhaps.”

Claire felt the telltale flush creeping up her neck once more. She looked down at her hands, twisting in her lap. She didn’t know what to say to this man. This unexpected savior who had come all the way from God knew where. To see her. Just her.

“I… don’t know. I don’t know what to say.” Claire felt the uncontrollable urge to laugh or cry. And she didn’t know if she wanted to hug or strangle Geillis.

“Claire. I dinna mean to push ye now.” Jamie leaned in. “It doesna have to be dinner. I’ll take whatever ye can give me. Coffee, if ye like. A cup of water from the cooler would do as well.”

“But why?” She met his eyes this time; she let him have a glimpse of the turmoil inside, the furious pain and anger of betrayal that still raged within. The feeling that would not let her open up quite yet. Perhaps ever.

“Why? You’re bonny, have eyes like whiskey and a strength about ye—“

“Strength?” Claire’s voice shook slightly. “I don’t know about that.”

“I do. I understand yer wounds are raw and smartin’ and I respect that. I just want to get to know ye a bit better, as a friend. I’ll not ask for more than ye want to give. Is that alright?”

“Coffee.” Coffee with a friend was alright. No danger there. They had already had coffee before.

Jamie’s smile was blinding. “Coffee is fine. When?”

“Tomorrow? 6 o’clock.” Before she could change her mind, she stood. “I must get back to my shift.”

“I’ll be here. Til 6 then.” He unfolded himself gracefully from the chair and strode to the doors.

“Oh, and Jamie?” He turned.

“It’s Beauchamp. Claire Beauchamp.”

anonymous asked:

any cute mcspirk headcanons about bones overworking himself? two space husbands come to the rescue?

  • Bones is exhausted when he comes home from a double shift in med bay. Understandably so, of course, but Jim feels sorry nonetheless. “Sit down,” he orders his boyfriend, pulling the other against his chest when they’re on the couch, and he presses his hands on Bones’ shoulders for a well deserved massage. Bones nods off to sleep almost instantly. 
  • Spock finds Bones sitting at his desk. He’s going through that old fashioned paperwork. Probably decided to do some late night reading, but he’s fallen asleep at his desk. Briefly, Spock considers waking him. Instead, though, he finds a spare blanket in the bedroom, and he gently puts it around the doctor’s shoulders.
  • “Why don’t you take the weekend off?” Jim suggests quietly. Bones shakes his head. “James, we are three men down in the med bay right now. Chapel has been sick, like a lot of the crew, and M'Benga has been on personal leave for at least another month.” “Okay,” Jim says, “we can get some cadets to shadow you,” Jim suggests. Bones is lying on the couch, his own arm thrown over his eyes to fight the already dim light in Jim’s quarters. “I don’t want no damn untrained cadets messing around with my patients nor my medical files,” Bones complains, and Jim sits down next to him. “You can’t do all that work by yourself,” he says, and Bones simply shrugs. “Someone’s gotta do the work on this mess of a ship.”
  • “Doctor McCoy,” Spock says when he enters Bones’ office. “What can I do for you, Legolas?” Bones asks, without looking up at the other. Spock frowns at that remark, raising his eyebrow curiously. Maybe a little offended, too. “I have a few symptoms I would like you to take a look at,” Spock finally says. That makes Bones look up almost instantly. “What’s the matter?” He asks, standing up to instead let Spock sit down on his chair. “I don’t think it’s very severe,” Spock says. “I’ll be the judge of that, darlin’,” Bones says, “now tell me what’s wrong.” Spock explains his symptoms, and Bones listens quietly. Fatigue, forgetfulness, being asleep without really resting, “-and a distinct lack of appetite in both food and sexual activity.” “You’ve never had an appetite in food,” Bones says, “and I’ve not noticed anything regarding the latter.” “Can you just give me your diagnosis, Leonard?” “Sounds like you’re close to a burnout,” Bones says, “you should consider taking a medical leave before your symptoms progress.” “Hm,” Spock replies simply. “I’m serious, Spock,” Bones says, “if these are the things you’re struggling with, then I’ll schedule you off duty for the next few weeks. You’ve been working hard enough as it is.” “I wasn’t referring to my own symptoms,” Spock says, “I was referring to yours. I find your diagnosis to be accurate.” “No,” Bones says, “get out of my office, I have work to do.“ 
  • “Well, what do we do?” Jim asks. They’re both in bed, but Bones is still at work. It’s not something either of them agree with, but they are quite understaffed after their last attack. Especially med bay suffered there, and Bones feels the consequences of that daily. Jim and Spock suffer, too, but not to the same degree. “He doesn’t want any assistance from the cadets,” Spock says, and Jim nods. “I know.” He rolls over on his side, fingers gently brushing over Spock’s cheek. “What should we do?” Spock turns, too, and Jim’s pretty sure the other leans in for a kiss, but instead, Spock reaches out for the PADD on his nightstand instead. Jim’s a little bummed out at that, but he doesn’t say anything, instead he watches Spock quietly. “What’s up?” Jim asks. “Bones doesn’t allow cadets to assist him on his shifts,” Spock says, and Jim nods. “I know, what about it?” “What do you suggest about a captain and a first officer assisting him?” Spock suggests, and Jim sits up straight. “Let’s do it.”
  • Bones doesn’t agree, of course he doesn’t. But Jim and Spock ignore that much, and instead help Bones wrap up his work sooner. Bones passes out shortly after they arrive back to the quarters, and Jim purposely shuts off his morning alarm to let the other sleep in. Sulu takes over command on the bridge while Jim and Spock tend to the wounded the best they can. Some of that medical equipment doesn’t require a lot of careful work, other things require a bit more research. Really, Jim patches people up with bandaids and bandages more than actual equipment. Spock does his research, asks medical cadets for help anyway. They can’t really do any of the complicated treatments, or advice anyone of medication, but the least they can do is clean up the archives, document everything, and prepare the patients for Bones to look at. If anything, it saves Bones a couple hours of daylight where he can rest with the two of them.
  • Gradually, Bones starts feeling better. Less exhausted, taking more time to bicker with Jim and Spock about their varying opinions. Chapel comes back, and they divide shifts. Bones is permanently tired, that is nothing new, but at least he’s able to get his rest back. He starts drinking again in Jim’s company, and that’s a good start. Even better, though, is when M'Benga returns, too. Bones is truly his old self when Jim finds himself in bed at night, Bones’ hand sneaking around his waist and warm lips kiss his neck. “What is this?” Jim asks, though he’s more than happy to accept. Jim leans in for a kiss, but instead, Bones leans away. Lame. Though, watching Bones lean over Jim to instead kiss Spock, that isn’t such a bad sight. “You’re your old self again, huh?” Jim asks, smiling when the other finally kisses him, too. Bones simply shrugs. “I have some energy to spare.”
Going blind, but not deaf

This is for @lady-mephistopheles and @agent-eggy because one of them show me the following prompt from @those-otp-prompts

Person A, B, and C/best friend of the two are in a Skype call when B mutes themselves because they need to go somewhere. In reality, B is nosy and wants to listen to a conversation between A and C/best friend. Cue A admitting that they have a crush on B to C/best friend while B is listening.

+Bonus#1: B unmutes themselves and admits they feel the same way/C telling A that B is listening.

++Bonus for #1: A gets flustered and gets called cute by everyone in the call.

Since it’s screamed Hartwin and they are two of my favourite enablers, I told them that as soon as I finished the bang I would be on it. So here it is ;) Hope you enjoy my darlings o3o

Going blind, but not deaf

“Be right back, I need to change.”

Eggsy’s feed goes dark and Merlin finally acknowledge Harry who’s been standing behind him for quite some time already.

“Not too disappointed of not getting a free show I hope?”

“This is not why I am here.” He’s only half-lying and judging by Merlin’s smirk, the handler is perfectly aware of it. It doesn’t stop Harry from persisting in his lie though. “I have those autorisations you needed.”

“Hmmhmm.” He grabs the papers Harry is handing him and doesn’t even give them a cursory look before putting them away to file later. “Strange how you always seem to have paperwork for me whenever Galahad’s close to his hotel room.”

“That’s purely coincidental.”

Merlin snorts and if Harry thought his friend would let the matter once again he’s proven wrong pretty quickly.

“The first time maybe, but I’m sure your decisions to come down so often is greatly influenced by how often Galahad forgets to turn off his feed when he gets naked.”

“I’ve come plenty of time when he’s just doing usual mission stuff too.”

“I’ll concede you that one, but don’t you find it strange how you never seem to come around whenever I’m not handling Galahad’s mission?”

This time, Merlin loses his smirk, raising an eyebrow, clearly expecting an answer. He’d probably let him get away with not answering, but if he’s being honest with himself, keeping silent about his profound affection for Eggsy is starting to weight heavy on him.

“What do you want from me Merlin? Admit that I worry about him more than I should? You don’t have to tell me he’s more than capable to deal with whatever comes his way, I know he is. But I still worry and I always will. Sue me for being an old fool in love.”

There he’s said the word out loud for the first and probably the only time. It’s a bit of a shame that Eggsy won’t ever get to know just how much he’s loved, but truly, it’s better that way. He wouldn’t want him to be uncomfortable around him for anything in the world.

However, before either of them can say anything more, the screen that had been displaying Eggsy’s feed gets on again.

“Did I hear that right? Are you- Are you in love with me?” He should look ridiculous, staring in the mirror as if he can see them through it, in his pants and struggling to get out of his undershirt, but, like always, Harry is stricken by how beautiful he is.

From the corner of his eyes, he notices Merlin’s apologetic expression, meaning that the handler mustn’t have noticed that Eggsy had only shut off the video part of his feed and thus had heard everything they had said.

He could still deny it, find a way to turn his own words into something they’re not, but the cat’s out of the bad. And even if he does it for a living, Harry has grown rather tired of lying all the time.

“Yes Eggsy, you heard me right.” Eggsy gasps softly and finally frees himself from his undershirt, letting it fall on the ground without even seeming to notice. “But you needn’t concern yo-”

“’Needn’t concert myself?” Pfffft, you’re cute. Of course I’ll bloody concern myself with it!” Harry winces and braces himself for Eggsy’s rejection, for the breaking of all that ties them together, but whatever harsh words he was imagining, they never come. Instead, Eggsy’s expression turns soft and longing. Harry wishes he could reach out to him, cup his cheek in the palm of his hand and maybe kiss some happiness back into his eyes. “You love me, Harry. I- I never thought…” He cuts himself off, doubts crossing his face and Harry doesn’t know what scenarios he’s coming up with, only that he doesn’t care much for the sad curl of Eggsy’s lips.

“Well, I do. I do love you Eggsy. And if you’re willing to give me a chance, I-”

Again, Eggsy interrupts him, but this time with joyous laughter and he seem to light up the whole room with just his smile.

“Oh, Harry! You’re really cute. Of course I am ‘willing’!”

He wants nothing more than for Eggsy to see him now, know that he’s made him just as happy as Eggsy seems to be, but that is unfortunately not to be.

“Alright, as much as I am glad you’ll both stop with your pining, you’re still on a mission Galahad. And Arthur, I am sure you have more paperwork to fill out.”

He does indeed and usually Harry would dread it, but today, with Eggsy’s laughter still echoing in his ears, he finds that he doesn’t mind it as much.

Captain’s Vigilante (4/?)

Word Count: 4400ish

Warnings: a lot words. Some violence and guns(obviously) and mentions of a bomb. If that may trigger you, I advise you greatly to read with caution or stop reading entirely. But if you don’t, feel free to read. Some wrong grammar and spelling mistakes are there too. It’s kinda confusing to read. The italics are sometimes there for either what they’re thinking of, something they’re remembering remember just separate it from the flashbacks. I made the their texts bold to avoid confusion. i dunno guys everything’s wack i just hope you enjoy reading. thanks again xx

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader  

Summary: You are a genius vigilante, misunderstood, feared and on top of the Avengers watch list. They see you as a major threat and have to be stopped. They’ve no idea you only have the best of intention but just has no idea how to express it a better way. And you like the reputation they gave you. It’s what you’re used to so you play with it. After yet another visit to the Avengers tower and being caught and then being shot. Things take a turn for you both when Steve seemed to break those walls and get to know the real you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3


You help me with anything I want you to. Steve punched the bag in front of him.  

When I ask, you answer. He hit it again and it swung from the impact.

You don’t get to ask questions about my own agendas. So don’t even try. Another punch and the seam on the bag opened a bit.

Whatever happens, don’t let me be caught. I don’t care if you have to lie or if you have to deceive your teammates. Compromise our little arrangement and our deal is off.

Betray me. And there’ll be consequences. A particular hard punch made the bag swung to almost a ninety degree angle.

In exchange, I’ll give you my services about everything I know about your missions. Just send me your whole file and I’ll send it back better. That’s my bargain, captain.

Isn’t that a little unfair on my part?

Of course it is. Do we have a deal? The bag swung bag, ready to hit whatever is in its way.

Deal. Steve readied himself, bracing for it.

Congrats, captain. You just made a deal with the devil. He caught the bag with his hands, not even moving a bit from the impact. He glared at the bag as he breathed heavily. He remembered their deal as if it was only yesterday. How he agreed to it with little thought in such little time was beyond him. And after a night’s rest, he realized what he did and came here to beat the frustrations out of him through something healthy like destroying yet another punching bag and enduring one of Tony’s talks about how these things doesn’t fall out of the sky.

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gif tutorial: colouring (*°ω°*ฅ)*

umm i was asked how i colour gifs sooo i’m now showing you how i make stuff from something like this

to this

to follow this tutorial, you will have to have general knowledge of how to make a gif on photoshop. if you don’t already, you can read an old tutorial that i made; since i don’t exactly gif like that now, you can ask for a new tutorial if you wonder what my current gif-making steps are.

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too cute [t’challa]

the dora milaje find you crying in our room for reasons they did not expect. (ft. black female reader)

tagging: @redgillan, @mattymattymerduck, @avengerofyourheart, @wakandasoldier, @darlingbuchanan, @bemystucky, @idorkish, @iwillbeinmynest, @aubzylynn, @angryschnauzer, @almondbuttercup

warnings: FLUFF, crying

additional notes: finally wrote something for the king! i used some names of legitimate members of the dora milaje (ayo, aneka, okoye, and nakia) but i also created two more using xhosa names: kuhle and nceba. fun fact: in the comics, ayo and aneka are girlfriends :) the reader in this fic is a black woman engaged to t’challa.

Originally posted by pandasubaru

You sniffled and used the sleeve of your sweatshirt to wipe away yet another tear. You didn’t mind crying in private, but when the tears interfered with your vision, you had to at least acknowledge their existence, even if it meant smudging your eyeliner.

“My lady, are you alright?”

You spun around in your seat to see Ayo poking her head through the half-open door, her dark eyes filled with concern. Beyond her you saw the rest of the Dora Milaje peering into the room over her shoulder. You swore inwardly; while the Dora Milaje had watched over you for years, you hated letting them see you cry. “I’m fine, Ayo, thank you,” you said, struggling to keep the sob out of your voice.

“My queen, what troubles you?” Ayo opened the door fully, and she and the other women filed into the room, each settling in the lounge in the divans and armchairs around you. Ayo and Aneka settled on the sofa on either side of you. You didn’t miss the worried glance they exchange over your head.

You squirmed in your seat, and Ayo’s gaze fell to your lap, to the phone in your hands. “It’s nothing, I promise,” you mumbled, leaning back against the couch cushion and holding the phone to your chest.

Aneka arched one perfectly shaped brow and held her hand out. Guiltily, you handed her the phone, and she turned it over to study the screen. Her mouth fell open, and after a few seconds of tense silence, you could see her eyes becoming glassy. “Your majesty—”

“Aneka, what is it?” Ayo demanded. “Let me see.” Aneka held the phone out to her, and you mentally face-palmed while Ayo watched your screen with wide eyes. “This is—”

“Ayo, please, it’s just—” you protested, but the rest of the girls interrupted you.

“Let us see, too!”

“What is it, Ayo?”

“Is it inappropriate?”

One by one, the other bodyguards rose from their seats and moved to stand behind the couch, eager to get a look at your phone, which Ayo gingerly returned to you. You held it out at arm’s length for everyone to see, and you could feel the tears return to your eyes. Nakia handed you a handkerchief—black cotton with a beautiful gold print; you expected nothing less from such a well-dressed woman—and Okoye patted your shoulder comfortingly, even as she fought back her own tears.

At least now you weren’t the only one crying.

T’Challa returned from his duties eager for a warm meal and cuddling session with his queen-to-be. He opened the door to your shared quarters to see more women than he had expected. Most of the Dora Milaje were doubled over the back of the couch. He opened his mouth to speak and was interrupted by a resounding “aww” of adoration. He searched the room and found your shock of dark curls among the others. “My love? What is going on here?” he called out.

You sniffled. T’Challa rushed to you immediately, kneeling before you on the floor and checking your face for distress, for injury. There were tears in your eyes, as he’d expected, and your cell phone was in your hands. All the Dora Milaje were focused on the screen, watching with glistening eyes and opened mouths. Kuhle was covering her mouth with one hand, while Nceba had a look of pure delight. “What is it, my love?” he asked you tenderly. “Who has hurt you?”

You shook your head and turned the phone toward him.

T’Challa blinked. On your screen was a video of puppies—pugs, he realized upon further inspection. They couldn’t be more than couple weeks old, their eyes still shut as they crawled weakly across a downy dog bed in search of their mother. They were so small, so soft-looking, with their round dark faces and feeble little paws. T’Challa could see why they would affect you so intensely. He knew you had a soft spot for animals. Last week, for your birthday, he had arranged for the two of you to visit a Wakandan family who bred Rottweilers. You had turned to mush, simply lying down on the floor and allowing the puppies to smother you with cuteness and lick away your tears of joy. He chuckled at the memory, and at the pugs still wriggling across your screen. One let out a tiny, high-pitched chirrup, and the entire Dora Milaje squealed with delight—even Ayo, who cleared her throat and played it off cool afterward. Aneka smirked at her knowingly.

“You have been crying… because of these videos?” T’Challa asked, smiling at you.

You pouted and slouched further into the couch cushion, hiding your teary eyes behind your curls. The collar of your sweatshirt—his sweatshirt, he realized—muffled your voice as you replied sheepishly, “You know how I am with dogs, T’Challa.”

T’Challa laughed and leaned forward to kiss your pouty lips. He rose from the floor and sat down on the couch beside you, or rather under you, since you immediately nuzzled close to him. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you against him, and watched the video with you. One puppy paused, his pink mouth agape in a yawn. You gasped audibly.

“They are quite adorable,” T’Challa remarked. “Not as cute as you, but adequate.”

“They’re cuter than me and you know it,” you grumbled into his sleeve. T’Challa chuckled.

The video ended, and T’Challa sighed with relief. Perhaps now his bodyguards would disperse and he could finally enjoy some alone time with you. He turned to politely dismiss everyone and—

“Oh, my lady, what about that one!” exclaimed Nceba. “‘A Basket Full of Kittens’!”

You glanced up at T’Challa. He sighed in resignation and nodded; he supposed alone time with you could wait. You clicked the screen and the video began with several fluffy kittens milling about. One flopped onto its side, exhausted, revealing it’s round belly, and this time, it was T’Challa who gasped. If you turned to mush when it came to puppies, he was absolute putty when it came to kittens.

He would have to ask you about this YouTube channel later.

Jealous ~S.S.~

Summary: season like 4 Stiles and Malia plus a jealous reader.

Requested: no

Note: sorry it’s so long. I had so many ideas and I don’t want to just everything into one story.

Me and Lydia stood at my locker planning the pack meeting tonight and decided that Derek’s loft would be the best.

“I feel like there’s so many of us, you know even though we’ve lost a few people with Malia joining it’s just” Lydia says fixing her lipstick

“Can we not talk about her please?” I plead closing my locker.

I’m not the biggest fan of Malia Tate. Don’t get me wrong I’m sure she’s a nice person but she gives me bad vibes, and she stole my man.

Ok maybe that’s the wrong phrase. I just-

“Y/N you’re a witch, you’re the witch. Just because she’s illegitimately dating Stiles, doesn’t mean anything. I’m sure they’re just friends anyway.”

“Dude, every night she comes in my room because she can’t sleep and then ya know” Stiles says engrossed in another “serious” conversation with Scott.

“No Stiles. I don’t know” the Alpha says rolling his eyes. He’s never been one to take hints.

Stiles just lifts the back of his shirt up revealing red lines with some dried blood on his back.

I gasp and run my hand over the scratches quickly making them disappear as if they weren’t there.

“Y/n, what did you just do. They actually don’t hurt now. Oh she healed me.” Stiles says pulling his shirt back down. “What have I said about using your mojo on me.”

“You’ve said it’s extremely cool and to do another trick.” I laugh rolling my eyes. “And don’t call it mojo. That’s disrespectful. My magic isn’t a joke stiles” I say giving him the look. He salutes me before we all continue to History with coach.

“So where’s Malia?” Kira says from her seat in class.

I shrug and look down at my worksheet.

“STILINSKI, put your phone away!” Coach yells causing our group to laugh.

“Yep. Got it coach. Putting it away” stiles awkwardly says putting the phone in his back pocket.

The rest of the school day is spent like every other. Admiring stiles from far away. Except Malia wasn’t here to cling on to his arm. Okay maybe I’m extremely jealous that Malia has the love of my life.

It’s actually not my fault. After becoming The Grand Priestess last year, all my emotions, senses and abilities were heightened. The Grand Priestess wasn’t supposed to be appointed until they were 19 or pregnant with their first child, but both my grandmother and mother were killed when I was 12.

The entire “world” of witchcraft had been trying to figure out what to do until eventually they just taught me what to do. It’s been a long, lonely process but I’ve got the hold of it.

“Y/N! Are you listening? Of course not.” Lydia says waving her hand in front of my face.

“Oh sorry Lyd. Why were you saying?”

“I was saying, it’s time to go. Derek has somewhere to be tonight and doesn’t trust us alone with peter.” She says grabbing her purse and moved to her car.

We arrived at Derek’s Loft and I immediately moved to the kitchen to grab some drinks. But when I walked in Malia was sitting on the kitchen counter with stiles in between her legs.

I stared at them before shaking my head and continuing to the fridge. I roughly opened the door cause the pair to jump apart and almost causing stiles to fall.

“Oh no. Don’t stop on behalf of me. Tongue Tennis is my favorite sport” I spit before popping open the soda can.

“I see you’re more of a spectator than a participant?” Malia says crossing her arms and hopping down.

“Ohhh. Big words, did Lydia teach you what those mean last night. Oh wait, you were a bit busy last night” I sarcastically state. I could practically taste the venom in my words.

“Oh go to hell.” She growls stepping closer.

“I run it bitch” i say stepping just as close as her. Malia is the only one to have never seen my powers, or even know a lot about them, but she might just today.

“Wow, no wonder you’re all alone”

“HEY. GIRLS, as much as I love reality TV. We have a meeting so drop it” Derek barks at us. Malia jumps and walks away while I stay still for a little bit.

Stiles still hasn’t moved and is just staring at me with wide eyes. I roll my eyes and move to the living room.

“Okay so Scott turned a freshman into a werewolf and the full moon is in less than 3 days so we need a plan.” Derek says looking at everyone.

“I can chain him up somewhere safe.” Scott offers.

“Malia is using the chains still” I say fake smiling at her.

“And you’re still a brat” she says returning the smile.

“Okay, y/n do you think you can find a spell to help sedate him or calm him down?” Derek says ignoring our argument.

“Course she does, how else would she get dick”

“MALIA” Scott and stiles shout at the same time.

I laugh darkly and clench my fist.

“Look hun, there’s a boy that could possibly hurt himself or other innocent people. We don’t have a lot of time to figure out what to do with a naturally angry new werewolf on top of training you how to control your shit” I quickly stand up and before anyone can blink the lights go out and Malia is pinned up against the brick wall. The whole scene looks creepy because the only light came from the setting sun. My eyes had turned a glowing black and my aura was showing. It bascailly looked like I was floating in pure black smoke. “So how about you shut up, chill and listen to Derek. I really don’t like you and no one in this room has the capability of stopping me from killing you. It’s out of respect and second hand care that you’re still alive. So shut the hell up, sit down before I use my actual powers” I didn’t even realize I had moved closer to the terrified Werecyote.

I drop her from the invisible hold I had in her. My eyes returned to normal and the “smoke” had cleared and the lights came back on.

Malia was coughing on the floor before growling at me. She stood up to come for me before Stiles and Scott grabbed her arms restraint her. I just smile and return to my previous seat.

We continued the meeting with a lot of tension. Once it was time for everyone to leave, stiles asked to speak to me. He lead me up the spiral stairs and into a room. Malia was sitting on the bed and Scott was sitting at the desk.

“You both need to stop. We’re a pack and this isn’t how you act. You’re both being childish and it’s getting annoying. So you’re going to talk it out. ”

“I don’t see why I can’t just leave. She’s the only problem here. Who cares if I don’t like her?” Malia says rolling her eyes.

“You can’t leave because like Scott said we’re a pack, whether you like it or not. This group of people are all we got. Eachother. Respect is necessary and if you’re going to stay I mine as well like you. So let’s talk it out. I’ll start. Stop acting like you’re all alone in this world. You have people. You have supernatural people. Stop acting like you are the only one in the god damn world who’s lost someone close to you. News Flash, literally every single person in the pack has. You’re not special. Quit lying and you know exactly what I’m talking about. Because as soon as you realize that there’s more than one place that’s willing to give you what you want you’re going to leave. So stop playing games. And quit coming for me, because if we’re comparing problems and issues we can and I guarantee I’ll win.”

“I never said any of that. You just want everything I have. I’ve been through shit you cant even think about. So stop.”

“Why would I want everything you have? Who wants diseases, an unstable ‘relationship’ and to have my first time on a nasty couch in the basement of an insane asylum. So fuck you and fuck this. You stay outta my way and don’t speak to me unless necessary then we’ll be okay. Because let me tell you a 17 year old with unimaginable powers is a mine field. So watch your step. And maybe if one of your little friends didn’t murder the only thing I had, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Y/n, what are you takin about?” Scott interrupts me.

“Scott, you know my grandmother and mother are dead. And I swear when I figure out who it was-”

“Stiles didn’t tell you?” Scott says making eye contact with the boy.

I spin around quick and look at stiles confused.

“Tell me what stiles?”

“We uhm. We know who killed your mom and grandma.” He says sadly not looking at me.

“You knew and didn’t tell me? Who is it. Let’s go.” I say running down the stairs. I could finally get revenge on the bastard.

“Y/n no. Uhm. We can’t go. Look it was an accident and they didn’t mean to. They’re so sorry.” Stiles began stepping closer to me. Malia and Scott stood at the bottom of the staircase while I was almost to the door.

“Stiles. What are you talking about? Just tell me who it is” I say looking in his eyes. Just like that my love grew taller.

“It was Malia” he whispers a tear running down his face. And just like that my love fell.

“No. I don’t understand. She killed them?” I said not bothering to look in any other direction than the boy I wanted to kill right now.

“Yea. Y/n look im really sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, I-”

“EARLIER. YOU THINK THATS WHY IM UPSET. GOD DAMN IT STILES HOW THE HELL COULD YOU. SHE FUCKING MURDERED MY FAMILY AND YOU SLEPT WITH HER. YOURE SLEEPING WITH HER. LIKE YOU DIDNT HOLD ME FOR YEARS AFTERWARDS. LIKE I DIDNT COME TO YOUR HOUSE ALMOST EVERY NIGHT BECAUSE I COULDN’T BE ALONE AND MY NIGHTMARES WERE TERRIBLE. LIKE I DONT FUCKING LOVE YOU. I HAVE SINCE WE WERE CHILDREN. AMD HERE YOU GO SCREWING THE BITCH THAT KILLED MY ONLY FUCKING FAMILY. You know exactly how it feels to lose your mother. And yet you just said fuck me and our lifetime of friendship. That’s wrong Stiles. And don’t think you’re safe either bitch. The ONLY reason you’re alive this second is because I’m going to fuck you up. Every single one of you.” I screamed and vented and yelled and in a blink I was gone but the entire loft was in a huge mess of papers, furniture, files and clothes.

I didn’t even bother going home. I went straight to the sheriff station. To say goodbye of course. Sheriff Stilinksi was the father I never had. Strong, caring and always welcoming.

“Y/n? Hey. Where’s Stiles?” Parrish asks me. I ignore him and go straight to the sheriffs office.

“Sheriff. I’m just here to say thank you and I love you with every ounce of me but I can’t stay here. Thank you for welcoming me and allowing me to be the person I am. Thank you so much.” I say finally bursting into tears. Stilinski runs around his desk and hugs me.

“Y/n. Sweetie. What’s wrong. Please tell me.”

“Malia- she-she killed my mom and grandma and stiles knew and still has sex with her and i-I’ve always lo-loved him” i sob. My sentences were barely comprehendible but I knew the sheriff understood.

“Oh y/n. It’s okay. Where are you gonna go?”

“I’m not sure. My dad has family down in Georgia. I can go there”

“Please be safe. I understand your need to leave but promise me you’ll be back to visit me.”

“I promise”

Bullets and Arsenic Ch.1

This fic is for the 5 coffee goal raffle winner @drdrdrdr12! It was originally suppose to be a mini fic, but the prompt they sent in was so inspiring, I’m turning it into a multichapter fanfiction. Anyway, I hope you like it! 

Rating: T 

*Contains swearing

Read on Ao3

Summary: Your parents used to be of high ranks in their mafia, but your parents found loopholes and managed to break up the organized crime once and for all and live a normal family life. Many years after your graduation from college you’re still on the radar for information. That became more apparent when you hear quick footsteps behind you and you black out.

You’ve been trained in the art of self defense, drilled to be cunning, resourceful, and intelligent all your life, but you don’t know why. Sure, all those qualities lead to success, but your parents always made it seem crucial that you learn those skills, like it’s a matter of life and death. And for your life, it is. Your parents were professors that taught at a university that you graduated from a few years ago, and handled your education themselves. As a kid, your mother taught you to never, ever, go to Ebott City. Ever. At first, this seemed quite random; Ebott City was all the way on the other side of the country, why would you ever go there in the first place?

But then, a few years after you graduated from college, both of your parents died at the same time. Heart attack and heartbreak, the coroner said, but for some reason, you know that’s not what happened. Your dad was the one who had a heart attack, now that you can believe, but your mother dying from heart break? That doesn’t sound like her at all. She was a strong, feisty woman, who took no shit, and although she loved your father, she wouldn’t have let his death destroy her like that. Something about that doesn’t add up. Even if they were strict on you, you loved your parents and you cannot let this rest, so you hop on a train and traveled to Ebott City, knowing that you’d find your answers there.

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“Bubblegum pink really ain’t my colour, doll”

Originally posted by love-buckybarnes


Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: FLUFFY

Word count: 3.634

Summary & A/N: It’s originally based on an idea I got from @hymnofthevalkyries but then I saw this prompt and it actually comes pretty close to what I had in mind. I also took the liberty to use the four prompts (in bold) provided by @the-vigilante who requested a fluffy Bucky x reader. Here you go hun ❤

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for you (there’s nothing in this world i wouldn’t do)


Kara is a horrible liar.

Everyone knows this. Family, friends, the guy who always delivers their pizza.

(When Kara jokes that she’s an alien to the waitress at Noonan’s constantly, she always stops. Confusion clear on her face, because Kara doesn’t laugh or stutter like she usually does whenever Kara tells something that’s clearly untrue.

Kara thinks it’s funny.

Alex thinks Kara purposely makes her job harder.)

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anonymous asked:

Could I request an imagine where MC tells RFA + V and Saeran that she's pregnant?


sorry V’s is kind of short/bland, i’m still having some difficulty really characterizing him well


  • you thought it would be funny to drop the news while he was playing a game of LOLOL
  • he rips off his headphone set and turns around to gape at you
  • you just stand there grinning until he starts tearing up
  • he’s so so happy
  • pulls you into a huge hug that lasts forever
  • he’s saying something between his tears but you can’t really hear cause a) his face is buried into your shirt and b) he’s crying like a newborn
  • you do make out “happy”, “omg”, and “love you” a lot though
  • he pulls away when he finally stops crying
  • when you both hear some weird noise coming from his abandoned headphone set
  • he reaches for it and all you hear are distant cheers and congratulations sounding from the people he was on call with
  • yoosung goes bright red at the realization that he forgot he was on a call with his teammates
  • you find it funny though, and yell out a thanks
  • he spends a lot of time looking up parenting tips online to prepare
  • also loves playing his favorite music near your stomach so the baby can hear
  • you fear that your child will be born humming the LOLOL theme


  • he was sleeping when you suddenly darted out of bed and made a beeline for the bathroom
  • he blinks blearily at the sudden motion, confused at what woke him up
  • but once he hears you throwing up, he’s out of bed in nanoseconds and running for the bathroom door
  • “babe, are you okay?! what’s wrong?! did you eat something bad last night?!?!”
  • you clean up and step back outside, where he’s looking completely worried
  • “nope, morning sickness”
  • (you already knew because you took a test the night before - you wanted to tell him today since he came home late last night)
  • he takes a few seconds to process that before screeching and giving you the biggest bear hug
  • you’re both laughing and hugging 
  • he carries you bridal-style back to the bed before hugging you some more
  • he’s slightly worried that the child is going to be too good-looking about having too many work commitments because he wants to take care of you
  • promises that he’ll be home as much as he can now between work and practice to give you A+ treatment


  • you two have been looking for a way to have children and gave IVF a shot
  • you find out it was successful, and decide to wait until she gets home to break it to her
  • she ends up coming home hella late damn it jumin and is ready to get her 10 minutes of sleep
  • she’s surprised that you’re still awake, and ushers you to go to bed
  • “sorry, we just wanted to wait for you and sleep together”
  • “we???”
  • “yup. we.” you pet your stomach for good measure
  • she doesn’t get it at first, but then realization hits her like a truck
  • and she drops her files on the ground
  • shit the papers all flew out 
  • you’re now out of bed and helping her collect the papers 
  • except when you look up to hand them to her, she has tears in her eyes
  • she never imagined having a family would be possible in her future because of her demanding work schedule
  • but you made it possible and she’s so eternally grateful
  • get ready cause she’s gonna be the most efficient mom to ever roam this earth
  • she’s already got files and bookmarks dedicated to proper childcare and steps for a healthy pregnancy


  • okay telling him through a chat message was probably not the most romantic
  • but he was going to be at meetings all day and you wanted him to know as soon as possible
  • except the minute you send the message he leaves the chatroom
  • you’re thinking his meetings started
  • until 15 minutes later he’s running into the house with a pregnancy dietician, prenatal fitness instructor and a childbirth educator in tow
  • “jumin wtf what about your meetings for–”
  • “cancelled them. don’t stand, save your energy.”
  • “i’m fine, thou–”
  • “actually, lie down. are you feeling okay? do you need tea?? a hot pack???”
  • the pregnancy specialist squad has to fight to calm him down
  • he’s super excited, but he’s also really really nervous about being a father
  • cause he doesn’t want to be like his dad –  he wants to be more interactive and closer with his kid
  • you’re sure he’ll be a great father, and he feels a lot better when you tell him that
  • he’s quite passionate about you having the most comfortable pregnancy though
  • he even has a person on standby just to go buy whatever you need to satisfy any food cravings you might get


  • doesn’t actually believe it until you show him the test
  • you thought he would get mega excited at the sight, but he starts tearing up instead
  • you’re slightly worried until he pulls you into a hug and starts saying “thank you” over and over 
  • during his past life as a secret agent, he’d never even thought to dream about having a family
  • and now it was right in front of him about to become a reality
  • he’s super hyped after he calms down though
  • a baby!!! you’re having a baby!!!
  • belatedly realizes he’s going to have to stock the kitchen with food other than PhD Pepper and Honey Buddha Chips
  • also does a whole lot of research on parenthood and how to take care of you during the pregnancy
  • he watched footage of a baby being born and was screaming louder than the woman in the video
  • loves loves lying in bed with you and talking to your stomach when he has free time
  • you learned early on not to give him naming privileges
  • “can we name her elly?”
  • “it might be a boy. also we’re not naming our kid after jumin’s cat”
  • “if it’s a boy, we can name him elliot!” 
  • “we’ll see, saeyoung”
  • “… if he or she’s born with long legs, can we name them longbaby? we can make our child famous like longcat!”
  • “that’s a definite no”


  • he’s so happy
  • you’d never seen him smile as brightly as he did when you told him
  • pulls you into his lap and nuzzles your neck for a loooong time
  • constantly asks if you’re feeling alright
  • like he asks an unhealthy amount of times
  • but you know he’s doing that because he cares
  • this man will cater to your every need
  • also loves taking pictures of you when he can
  • wants to do a photoshoot throughout your pregnancy to mark the progress
  • does his best to research proper methods to care for you 
  • you already know he’s going to be a goal dad
  • the kid’s probably going to be spoiled rotten though


  • to be honest, you expected him to be indifferent about it when you broke the news
  • his eyes immediately went to your stomach after you told him
  • after a long staring contest with your stomach, he put a hesitant hand on it before asking “you sure?”
  • “yup, i did two tests. i can show you them if you want”
  • but then the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen touches his face
  • and he pulls you in for a hug
  • who is this man this isn’t saeran since when could saeran smile
  • sure you’ve seen him genuinely smile once every 4 business days, but his expression was one you’ve had yet to encounter until now
  • you’re standing there stunned before reflexively moving to hug him back
  • but then you hear a small sniffle
  • “….saeran, are you crying?”
  • “i’m not.”
  • “it’s okay if you a–”
  • i’m not.”
  • you laugh before saying “congratulations, you’re going to be a father. and a great one at that!”
  • you know better than to mention the constant sniffles you’re hearing, so you stand there rubbing his back until he’s ready to let go
  • never did you expect to hear him whisper “i love you” into your ear though who knew that phrase was in his vocabulary
  • it was an unforgettable day for you in more ways than one
Lena Luthor/you fic pt. 12

Originally posted by cvtgrant

“Don’t!  Don’t fucking touch her!  Lena?  Lena, it’s okay.”

Rope digs into the wounds on your wrists, but you continue to pull against your restraints as hard as your depleted strength will allow.  You’re exhausted, in an incredibly familiar amount of pain, but it can’t possibly phase you at this point.  Not when they got Lena this time.  

A cold laugh rings in your ears at a volume that almost deafens you.  Bright light flashes from above and it illuminates the figure standing behind Lena’s battered form.  Lillian sneers cruelly down at her daughter, who is breathing heavily and struggling to keep her head up.  

“Get away from her!”

The words rip through your throat, which is hoarse from hours of screaming.  You had watched the two masked thugs in the room do unthinkable things to Lena, no matter how loudly you screamed.  

“I warned you.  I warned you both.”

Lillian steps slowly out from the dimmer side of the room, her heels clicking on the cement, and she gripped Lena’s head in bony, pale hands.  Your heart pounded so hard it seemed to rattle your ribcage.  

“No, no, please!  Don’t hurt her!  Lena-“

Her name caught in your throat as a sickening snap accompanied the way Lillian twisted her daughter’s head sharply to the side-

“Y/N, wake up!”

Lena watched your eyes flash open, wild with panic, and found your hand under the blankets as you shot up in bed.  A reminder of the state your body was in send a sharp ache through your chest from the sudden movement, but you were still reeling from the vision of what your subconscious had come up with.  Something in the back of your mind begged you to get a grip, but icy terror continued to pulse through your veins.  You didn’t feel safe.  Lena wasn’t safe.

“—it was just a dream.  Hey, can you look at me?”

Lena’s voice finally snapped you out of your hysterical state and she laid a hand on the less bruised side of your face.  Your gaze found hers in the dark bedroom and you scrambled to wrap your arms around her and hold her close.  She was okay.  She was here.  It was just you and her, safe in her room.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped out finally.

“Shh, it’s alright.  You’re alright.”

Lena rubbed a gentle hand up and down your back and you did your best to focus on the feeling of her touch and the smell of her perfume.  Little by little, the adrenaline in your system faded away and the sickening feeling in your stomach lessened.  Lena continued to hold you in the dark solace of her bedroom, occasionally reminding you that you were alright with soft words.  Once your pulse returned to normal, you pulled back from her and rubbed at your tired eyes; ashamed at how unabashedly fearful you had been in front of her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she offered.  You could hear the expectation in her voice.  You couldn’t just pretend that everything was fine.

“Just, give me second.  I’m, uh, gonna use the bathroom.”

You clambered out of bed, coated in a cold sheet of sweat, and hopped your way into the bathroom.  With the door shut behind you, you grabbed your medication bottle from the cabinet, tossed a tablet on the sink, and turned the faucet on to mask the rest of what happened.

After splashing cold water onto your face, you dried off with one of the hand towels and hobbled back out to the bedroom.  By the time you laid back down next to Lena, a warm sedation had washed over your and the feeling of Lena’s arm across your waist added to it.

“You said my name, in your sleep,” Lena stated quietly.  You allowed your eyes to shut, but nodded.

“You were there, in the dream.  And so was your—“ you corrected yourself before the word mother could slip out, “—was Lillian.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.  But, you’re okay.  You’re safe, with me.”

“I know,” you assured her.  “It’s just…it’s hard not to think about what would happen if she did find us.”

“I understand.”

“I don’t think I’d be able to live if something happened to you, Lena.”

“I know the feeling,” Lena sighed.  You could hear the exhaustion in her voice and reminded yourself that she had to be up early.

“We should go back to sleep.”

You pressed closer to her, now incredibly drowsy, and shivered at the touch of her fingertips brushing where your hip stuck out from under your shirt.  The images of the nightmare continued to fade as she rubbed a thumb back and forth across the small patch of exposed flesh.

“I love you,” you murmured just before succumbing to sleep again.

“I love you too.”


“Hmm,” Lillian grunted as she peered at the spread of photographs on the metal desk in front of her.  There were plenty of her daughter outside of her condo complex, but none of the images had caught you.  “No sign of the low-life.  Those two idiots must have taken quite a toll on her.”

“There’s been quite a lot of progress down in the lab, ma’am.  We just need to figure out how to completely restore cognitive function after the personal storage areas of the brain have been over-stimulated.”

“Over-stimulation?  I told you I wanted the brain wiped.”

“Ma’am, that’s just not a viable option, even with this technology.  Not if the subject is expected to be able to retain artificial memories afterwards.”

“Hmm,” Lillian grunted again.  “I expected more of my employees.”

“We’ll keep trying, ma’am,” the senior scientist assures her.


You didn’t wake up until almost two in the afternoon.  The vivid nightmare had taken a lot out of you and as your eyes opened, you were immediately hit with a headache and pang of hunger in your stomach.  After a quick face wash, you brushed your teeth and hesitantly took the orange pill bottle out of the cabinet.  It was still over ¾ of the way full, but you were still uncertain about taking more.  You couldn’t afford to do this to yourself, or to Lena.  You had watched what painkillers could do.  Hell, you had sold them.  After deciding you’d rather deal with the pain than the idea of becoming a pill-popper, you put the meds back and hopped out into the main area of the apartment.

In order to quell the burning in your stomach, you grabbed one of Lena’s weird protein shake things out of the fridge and an apple from the bowl on the counter.  It was only when you sat down at the kitchen counter that you noticed the iPhone 7 box and the note beside it.

I know you got rid of your old one and perhaps Angry Birds will keep you entertained until I get home.  


P.S. I put my number and Kara’s into your contacts if you need anything

Wow.  Thoughtful as always.


A week passed.  Lena began bringing home extra work from her desk to entertain you while she was gone and you made a trip back to the hospital to get the stitches on your incisions out.  The nightmares came just about every night.  It became a routine for Lena to wake at least once a night to the feeling of you squirming beside her; distressed by whatever images were flashing behind your closed eyelids.  She’d pull you against her and whisper just loud enough to pull you out of your terror, and then peace would return to the bedroom.

And in the morning, you would wake up and snort crushed up oxy off of the sink.

You knew it was wrong.  You knew, somewhere in the back of your tangled thoughts that it wouldn’t last forever and it would have consequences.  But, in order to sit down and focus on something and pretend that what had happened hadn’t happened, you needed to.  

Lena wasn’t oblivious to the change in your disposition.  She noticed the way your eyes would slowly find hers and that they didn’t dance around the room as often.  The way you’d stare at nothing, apparently lost in your own head.  She told herself that you were just processing what had happened and the change in your life.  This was an adjustment for you, after all.  Living with someone was just something you needed to get used to.  



Kara landed on her newest friend’s balcony just before Lena was about to shut her computer down and throw the files on her desk back into their respective drawers.

“Kara,” she smiled as she always did when the blonde quite literally dropped by and stood from her chair.  “Hi.”

“How’ve you been?  Sorry I haven’t been around too much lately.  Busy city and all,” Kara apologized and pulled Lena in for their usual embrace.  She had come to care a great deal for the Luthor woman in the past few weeks.

“I understand,” Lena assured her.  “Things have been…consistent.”

“What does that mean?  Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.  Y/N seems to feel a lot better.  I’m not constantly worried about her collapsing anymore—“ Lena bit her bottom lip before continuing, “—but she has been a little…different lately.  I think she’s just trying to deal with what happened.”

“How are you dealing with it?”

“I’m fine compared to her,” Lena scoffed.  “Kara, she has horrible dreams almost every night.  It breaks my heart.”

“Well, that’s understandable.  But, are you sure you aren’t taking on too much?  With work and her physical recovery and—“

“Kara, I’m fine.  She wouldn’t be struggling like this if she hadn’t met me and…you know I love her.”

“I know,” Kara replied and reached out to give Lena’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.  “Let me know if either one of you need anything, alright?”

“Thank you.”


Sometime that day, the real guilt hit you.  You were in Lena’s home, sleeping next to her in her bed every night, and lying to her every time she came home and you didn’t tell her what was going on.  

Around five, you sat down at the kitchen table, still high from your afternoon dose, and spun your prescription bottle around in your hands.  The remaining pills rattled around, almost seeming to taunt you, and your good leg shook up and down rapidly under the table.  God, Lena was going to be so disgusted with you.  To be fair, you were disgusted with yourself.

You sat there, waiting and consumed by the river of anxiety in your system, until the door to the condo opened and Lena’s heels clattered to the hardwood floor as she kicked them off.


“In here,” you called.  Your stomach was twisting and you sucked in a deep breath to try to quell the nausea.  Oh God, what if you had ruined everything?  

“Hi,” Lena beamed as she entered the kitchen, noticed your disposition, and paused.  “What’s wrong?”

“I need you to sit down and just listen for a second, please.”

“Okay,” Lena took the chair next to you hesitantly and eyed the pills in your hand.  

“I…I need you to take these away from me,” you started and slid the orange piece of plastic over to her.  “Please don’t hate me, but I’ve been—“ your voice failed you and your pulse started slamming in your ears, “—I’ve been snorting them.”


“I know, I know it’s bad.  I just…I needed to feel better about everything and I needed you to think that I was okay.  Please, please just don’t hate me, Lena.  I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Lena stood up from her chair, pocketed the prescription bottle into her blazer, and wrapped her arms around you.  “I could never hate you, Y/N.  We’ll figure out what you need to get past this together, okay?”

You nodded and let out a shaky breath.  

“Just tell me what you need from me, and I’ll help you.”

“I-I don’t know what I need, Lena.  I can’t stop thinking about…any of it.  And you’ve been so good to me and I just feel so bad for putting you through all of this.”

“Shhh,” Lena shook her head and put a hand on the side of your face so that you’d look at her.  It was hard for you to even match her gaze.  “Don’t.  It’ll be alright, I promise.”

Her face was so close to yours and her voice was so soft, it made you realize how much you missed her intimacy.

“Lena, please kiss me?”

Her lips hadn’t touched yours since before you were taken.  She had been afraid to do anything more than hold you at night, mostly worried about hurting or somehow overwhelming you.  Lena’s eyes searched your own questioningly.


“Please,” you begged.  Her thumb moved across your cheek and your breathing quickened when her gaze shifted quickly between your eyes and your mouth.  After a brief second of uncertainty, Lena closed the distance between the two of you and pressed her lips against yours.  

So, decided to make the relationship a little more honest and deeper.  I figured writing Lena trying to help the reader through her mental recovery might be interesting

My Fair Warrior: Part 20

Setting: McLean, Virginia,  and New York City, New York, USA, 2022

Summary: Feyre and Rhys have one last challenge to face together–the trial and indictment of Bernard Springer.

Ship: Feysand

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,700

A/N: This is the final part of my Modern AU. As before, some lines come directly from ACOMAF and belong to Sarah J. Maas. I’m sorry if this feels like it wraps up really fast, but the end of ACOMAF doesn’t lend itself well to a Modern AU, so I had to come up with something else. I hope it’s still satisfying, though!

Previous Chapter 

Keep reading

Inside to Out || Intro

Synopsis: It’s your first day at your new job over at the well known, Min Cooperation. Yoongi, young prodigy and genius, is the successor to his father’s company and everyone seems to stray away from him due to his cold and smart aleck personality, but he treats you differently than everyone else… Why? Not only that, but one night you get lost and find yourself at a not-so-abandoned warehouse. Inside is practically a club with flashy people, but who’s the main attraction? A man who seems all too familiar that goes by Agust D.

Originally posted by haninnoona

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader ( or to be exact, good boy successor by day and underground rapper at night )

Genre: eventually fluff, angst, and smutty smut

Written by: admin Daze

Intro || ?

Word count: 3014

A/N: heavily felt inspired to do something like this after that fucking mixtape. gonna attempt to make ten parts for the ten tracks in his mixtape :)

It’s your first day at your new job and everything is completely new.  From the environment, city, people, “home”- everything. You completed your internship a few months back, but you recently got transferred to Seoul under the Min Cooperation which was about 250 miles away from your hometown.

You walk inside, past the entrance of the two sliding doors,and immediately you’re greeted by the receptionists. Before you could even respond a hand gets waved in front of your face, “Y/N! Ready for your first day?” he asks while trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible, “How are you?” he says while nodding as if you already gave an answer.

“I’m good-” You grip onto the strap of your bag and shift your weight to the other foot.

“-That’s great! Follow me to your office.” He cuts you off like nothing and swiftly turns around to walk to the elevator. When you both enter, he slides his card before pressing a button and handing it to you. You look at it and realize it’s your ID tag. You nod at him and finally realize his features. His hair is an ash blonde and styled like the wind blew all over it but somehow he still manages to appear perfect, not to tall and not too short, eyes that turn into crescents when he smiles angelically, and dressed down in a navy blue suit which compliments his hair. His gaze drifts to you and you respond with a smile. He turns away, scratches the back of his neck out of awkwardness and exits the elevator when it reaches the ninth floor. No further conversation is achieved between you two and you follow him to get to your office.

Heads turn at you and watches your figure, whispers in the room flourish and become louder and louder. People question who you are and how you appear so young- how you’re working at such a large company at your age. You gulp and hold onto your strap tighter while trying to keep your sight to the ground. The man turns his head a bit and notices your disposition and when you both finally reach your office, he places a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t mind them, it’s normal that they’re shocked by you. The only person who works here at an age as different as that is Yoongi and I.” He whispers and gives you a light pat.

“Yoongi? That’s great, where can I meet him? I could use some advice.” You question, looking at him from the corner of your eye.

He cocks a brow up, trying to conceal his laughter at what you just said. Your face crumples at his reaction.

Keep reading

Madness II (final)

Originally posted by peperodays

Joker Harley!AU

word count - 2449

a/n: Because of a high demand for joker!sehun, I’ve decided to make a pt 2. I’ve written it a little like canon, I hope you’ll all enjoy it! :)

previous: pt 1

Sehun knew exactly how to draw you in.

You knew he was seducing you every single time you had a session with him, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. Despite every time you have told him that this is unprofessional and that he should quit he keeps ignoring your request. 

“You just fascinate me,” he would say, and although you’d never admit it those flattering words he says make you flustered.

Keep reading

yoongi; behind it all

❝yoongi was the one behind it all, but you were the one behind his smile
►4701 words // scenario, school!au, the heirs’!influence
♡i’ve also been watching the drama cheese in the trap and have been obsessed with it so there are implications from the drama here and there. also, there are plot holes and certain parts are sketchy because i wrote this out for fun, not so much focusing on anything but i hope it’s still enjoyable!

Yoongi thought he had it all played out, in his mind, that is.

If he was being honest, it was his father’s ruling to have it all planned out for him but either way, he’s the one actually finalising it so Yoongi would like to think he’s the one making his own plans and anyway. It would all be perfect and smooth sailing… if it wasn’t for you.

Ah, the remarkable Y/N that gave not even a rat’s, cat’s or dog’s ass about anything that revolves around the school committee. Even donating the littlest bit could be something as so difficult to make you drink poison. At this rate, Yoongi thinks actually making you drink poison would be easier.

But it’s not everything like he seems, is what he chooses to believe.

Keep reading

Partners: Harry x Reader

Request: Hi! Can I request a Harry x reader where they both work together as aurors but they act like they hate each other when they really like each other and Ron and Hermione see this (they know) so they plot to get them together so they trap them in a room and Harry and the reader talk and their true feelings come out that they like each other and can it be super fluffy? Thank you and I can’t wait for your Harry stories!!!

Warnings: none :)


naturally when I picture professional, badass women, I picture Chloe Bennet

Originally posted by ungifable

I pause outside of the door, my fist freezing mid-air before it connects with the wooden barrier. I could turn around, and go back to my office. Wait for them to threaten me. Like they could do anything, right? Aside from fire me, but they wouldn’t do that… not when so many of us had just been killed in the war. No, I can’t let my mind go there right now. They need as many aurors they can get. I take a deep breath and raise my fist back up, knocking three times on the dark wood.

“Enter,” I hear a deep voice say from the other side. I turn the doorknob and enter the large office. “Ah, Ms. (Y/L/N).”

“Good afternoon, Minister,” I respond, closing the door behind me.

He smiles at me, and says, “You’re perfectly welcome to call me Kingsley, if you’d like. I’m only Minister when acting as Minister. For the purposes of now, I’m Head of Magical Law Enforcement.”

I force a small smile in response. He sighs, and sits in the large chair behind his desk, gesturing to another across from him for me. I reluctantly walk forward, and sit in the chair, smoothing my skirt behind me.

“You know why I’ve asked you here, yes?” he asks. I nod, and the memories from the war come flooding back… I was still new to the auror office, only been there a year myself. And every new auror has a partner, especially ones as young as I am. My partner–my best friend–had been killed in the war. A stray “Avada Kedavra” from Bellatrix Lestrange herself, meant for someone else, had hit him square in the back. I feel my throat start to close up thinking about it, and I snap back to attention on the Minister–or.. whatever.

“I assume you have someone in mind, then?” I ask, a little too sassily, and I instantly regret it. But Kingsley smirks slightly, despite my attitude.

“I do,” he says, and he passes a file across his desk. A… a rather thick file. Great. Not only were they forcing a new partner on me, it was going to be someone with one hundred times the experience. An insufferable know-it-all, constantly telling me what I’m doing wrong. I knit my eyebrows together, and reach for the file, flipping open the top cover. My jaw drops when I read the name and look at the accompanying picture. I glance back up at my boss, who’s now smirking at me.

“Since when is he an auror?”

“Since this morning. Passed all of his tests with flying colors.” He’s grinning now, clearly proud of his new recruitment. But I don’t smile back. And his grin falters. “I don’t expect enthusiasm, (Y/N), but I do expect you to be welcoming.”

I nod. “Why me? Why not give him to someone… more experienced?”

Kingsley chuckles emptily. “After this war, are any of us inexperienced? I believe you two will be a good fit.”

“What about his friend?” I ask, remembering the red haired boy always hanging around him.

“Mr. Weasley has not completed his training quite yet.” I nod again. Goodness gracious, why can’t I just look him in the eye? I force myself to, and see nothing but kindness reflected in his face. I sigh, helping myself to relax a bit.

“Alright,” I say, “When does he start?”

Kingsley smiles in a I-knew-I-could-count-on-you sort of way, and responds “Tomorrow.”

“Well, then.” I stand up out of my chair, smoothing my skirt again with one hand, and taking the file in the other, waving it slightly, I say, “I guess I better get reading up on the Boy Who Lived.”

It had been almost a year since Harry had become my partner. I’d have to be lying to say he wasn’t a good one, because there was no doubt about that. He was an excellent and natural auror, especially for one so young. But to say that he drove me crazy was an understatement.

I expected that once his friend got through training, he’d be reassigned and they’d be partners instead. After all, I’m 20 now, it’s not like I’m some teenager who still needs a partner. But no. It turns out, Hermione Granger is also an auror now, and she and Ron were automatically assigned as partners, being engaged and all. So I was stuck with the golden boy.

“You don’t get it guys, the girl is crazy,” Harry whisper-yelled, leaning against the doorframe of Ron and Hermione’s joint office. The two shared a look, Hermione smirking slightly, before turning back to her paperwork.

“Yeah? How’s that, mate?” Ron asked, perching his chin on his fist.

Harry froze, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Well, she–she’s always wearing heels. And she works constantly.”

Hermione looked back up at him, tilting her head with an eyebrow raised, before turning to her fiancee. “Is that what makes a girl crazy, Ronald?”

Ron grinned at her, “Absolutely not, darling.” He then turned back to his best friend. “Honestly, mate it could be worse. You could’ve gotten stuck with McLaggen.”

Harry shuddered at the thought and turned his head at the sound of clacking heels against the tile floor, only to see (Y/N) coming down the hall carrying a small stack of files and headed toward the very doorway he was leaning against.

“Oh bloody–she’s coming this way,” he says, standing up straight, and re-buttoning his blazer. Hermione giggled and shook her head, looking back down at her paperwork.

(Y/N) appeared in the doorway only moments later, and turned to Harry, a slightly bemused look on her face. “Thought I’d find you here. Lucky.” She turned to face the other two as well. “Looks like the four of us have an assignment together,” she said, passing a file to each of the others.

Hermione, took hers and flipped it open, “Merlin’s beard, an actual arrest. Haven’t gotten one of those in a while.”

“Why all four of us?” Harry asked, cocking an eyebrow at the girl in front of him. (Y/N) shot him a look of annoyance, and turned to face him.

“Kingsley’s worried some others may be hiding out at his place,” she explained. “He wants us ready in an hour.”

She turned to leave, only to realize Harry wasn’t following, and she turned back to look at him, an eyebrow cocked. “You coming?”

“In a bit,” he replied. She nodded, and turned sharply, hair flipping behind her, and stalked off, and Harry found himself watching her as she walked away. This did not go unnoticed by his two friends, who were smiling knowingly at each other.

“Bonkers, right?” Harry said, turning back to the other two.

“Whatever you say, mate.”

“Bloody hell, this is not happening,” (Y/N) said, pacing the cellar. A light scoff came from the darkness to her left, and she turned to face the source. “What? Does this happen to you often? Getting trapped in cellars where apparating is impossible?”

“Honestly, I didn’t know there was another cellar like this outside Malfoy Manor,” Harry said, shrugging, his hands in his pockets, and leaning against the bars.

“How can you be so casual about this?!” she whisper-yelled, running a hand through her hair in agitation. He rolled his eyes, and then locked them back on her. “There’s got to be another way out of here.”

“Would you stop pacing, please?” he asked in an exasperated tone. She glared at him.

“You know, maybe if you’d actually be some help, we’d get out of here sooner,” she snapped back. “Or maybe you just enjoy being trapped in a cellar with me?”

“I can think of worse company,” he replied quietly, rolling his eyes again, and she froze, not sure she heard him correctly.

“Come again?”

He sighed and turned to her, pushing off of the bars, and not quite making eye contact. She could see him fidgeting slightly in the dark. “I know losing him was hard for you. Trust me, I know.”

She felt her heart ache at the mention of her old partner, and her eyes began to sting as tears formed and blurred her vision. She crossed her arms in front of her–her way of protecting herself from the memories.

“But neither of us could have asked for a better partner. He was really lucky to have you while he was here.”

A small smile formed on her lips. “Thank you, Har–”

“I’m not done quite yet,” he said, cutting her off. “Just let me say this, alright?”

She froze yet again, and then nodded slowly.

“I know it was hard for you to be assigned a new partner. And I wish they’d’ve given you more time. But, selfishly, I’m glad they didn’t.” He finally looked up into her (y/e/c) eyes, and seeing them staring back at him made let out a light chuckle, and he shook his head. “This is going to sound ridiculous. But it can’t sound more ridiculous than I feel right now, so what the hell, right?”

She took a forward, a sudden impulse to be closer to him washing over her. “Go on, then,” she whispered.

A small smirk spread on his face as he looked back up at her. “I’ve been falling for you since my first day, (Y/N),” he confessed, finally locking eyes with her, and not taking them away again. She felt herself inching towards him, and noticed that he was too. They were only a couple of feet away from each other now.

“You have?” she asked, stepping even closer to him and slowly unfolding her arms.

The grin began to grow on his face. “I have,” he replied. Several inches of space were all that was left.

“Well, then,” she said, her eyes flickering down to his lips momentarily. She slowly reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder, and pulled him in gently to close the remaining distance.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her against him, as he leaned forward, connecting his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. His other hand found the back of her neck, and he applied a little bit of pressure, deepening the kiss ever so slightly.

“Oh, finally!” Harry and (Y/N) sprang apart, and looked through the barred door to see Hermione and Ron at the top of the stone stairs and smirking down at them. “It’s about bloody time.”