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renx01 · 2 months

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You called

Prompt: “You came.” - “You called.” Pairing: Harry Hart x Reader Fandom: Kingsman Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood and injuries, honeypot mission Word count: 1511

‘Galahad.’ It was barely a whisper which came out of your mouth. The predicament you were in wasn’t as you had planned. The mission in and of itself was relatively simple: go to an event, talk to some high ranking people and criminals in order to gather information, and leave. Yet, here you were sitting on the floor in an alley, bleeding from a gunshot wound.

It had been going quite well. Your target, Vincent Giante, had been at the event early and you had approached carefully but confidently. Merlin had informed you that he was, in fact, a ladies-man, and that it could be of use to, as he said, “throw your womanly charms at him”. You ended up following that advice after the target had shown interest in you, most likely due to the rather revealing emerald-green dress you were wearing. ‘My, my, a lovely young lady at an event such as this one, alone and seemingly without a date.’ Vincent had said to you as he approached. It sounded vulgar as he said it, as if she were a piece of meat, an object which he was intent on owning. That would never happen in a million years if you had any say in it. You did, however, have to play into it. ‘Why thank you, I’m flattered.’ You say as he grabs your hand and leans down to kiss it, his touch lingering a tad too long for your liking. ‘So what’s your name darling?’ ‘Josephine.’ Was what you answered as you heard Merlin in your ear. Target on lock. Vincent made small-talk with you for a bit before the two of you were approached by a man. ‘Sorry, boss, that I have to interrupt your conversation with this lovely lady.’ He leans in and whispers something to his boss which you’re unable to hear. That’s Vincent’s right-hand man, Giovanni. Be careful around him, he can be quite the fighter. Merlin informs you before the pair can shift their focus back to you. ‘Sorry love, I have to go meet with some people.’ He sounded genuinely disappointed. He leans in to kiss your cheek and whispers in your ear. ‘If you’re feeling up for it, meet me outside in an hour.’

Time passed slowly as you waited to meet up with Vincent. You were in fact, not feeling up to it, but it was too good of a chance to pass up. During that time, you mingled with some more of the guests, but were unable to gather any information that was particularly of note. Merlin, on the other hand, was able to gather the information that Vincent supposedly had a harddrive with him which contained some secret documents which the Kingsman could use to folly his organisation’s plans. As the agreed upon time approaches, Merlin fills you in about the surroundings and what to look out for. Supposedly, Giante would have the drive somewhere on this person, so the goal had shifted from gaining information to getting the harddrive without being caught.

Outside, it was quiet, the hustle and bustle of the event left behind. Vincent stood near a statue in the gardens, seemingly alone, yet you knew better. It was likely that multiple of his men would be surrounding the two of you, looking out for his well-being. ‘Josephine, I’m glad you came.’ He smiles and puts his hand on your shoulder. ‘Let us walk for a bit, I’ve been inside all day.’ You take the arm which was offered to you and join him. After ten minutes you reach a part of the gardens which seemed completely isolated. Slowly, he tries getting closer, putting his hand on your lower back as he whispers things in your ear. You endure them, finding them disgusting but pretending to love the attention. Slowly, he starts kissing your neck and eventually mouth. If it weren’t for your training and experience, you probably would’ve gagged as his hands slowly started lowering further. Finding your focus again, you shifted it to trying to find the harddrive on him, roaming your hands over his body. Eventually, you feel it in one of his pockets, and slowly but surely, you try to get it out. As he starts getting more passionate you manage to grab hold of it. Slowly, you slip it into one of your hidden pockets. After a few more minutes you pull back and look him in the eye, smiling kindly. ‘We should take this elsewhere.’ Taking his hand, you lead him back to where the event was taking place. He seemed quite content for the time being, but you weren’t too convinced. Well done agent Kay, get out of there.

Vincent leads you back inside to a relatively quiet corner, stopping a moment to talk to one of his men. As you look around, you suddenly hear a click just behind you. ‘Now love, I had so much fun, but I’d prefer it if you handed back that harddrive.’ Vincent sticks out his hand while the man behind you slowly pushes the gun against the back of your head. ‘We can talk about this Vincent.’ You slowly walk up to him. Agent Kay what are you doing? Get out. Merlin almost screams in your ear as you try to remain as possible. You slowly put your hands up, ‘I was enjoying myself quite a bit, but I suppose that is now over?’ your voice is almost sickly sweet. The hand he was holding out slowly wraps around your chin, tilting it up. ‘It’d be a pity to lose this pretty face.’ You were stalling quite a bit, that was clear.

Kay, Galahad is on his way. Just get out of this venue.

Galahad, that was your sign. Your colleague was on the way and you only had to get out of the building. Leaning into his touch, he clearly gets distracted once again, just enough to pull out a small knife and throw it backwards into the man that was pointing a gun at you. Turning, you grab hold of the lead and break the man’s fingers, then shooting him with his own gun, followed by shooting Vincent in the head. ‘A shame really.’ You scoff before turning and running into the crowd, 8 men following you, their guns loaded. Every step felt hot, so very hot, and they were right on your heels. ‘Fuck’, a soft whisper escaping you as they start firing their guns.

Kay, I need you to confirm that you are on the way out. ‘Confirm Merlin, I just have to lose some people.’ Heels continue to click where-ever you go. After turning a corner in one of the many hallways, several more of the men following you go down as you disarm and shoot them. That is until you didn’t have any ammo left. Of course this would happen to you, as if your day wasn’t going terribly already. ‘At least I still have these ones.’ You throw a few knives, hitting several throats. Their blood covers your face. Around you several bodies lay and you are finally able to breathe, even if it’s just for a moment. ‘Galahad, do you copy?’ You say quietly as you continue walking through the maze of hallways. Several footsteps can be heard from several of the hallways around you, so you start running once again.

‘Merlin, where is Galahad?’

You don’t get a response.

Managing to finally get outside, heading into a dimly lit alleyway, you see over a dozen people following you. Pulling out your own gun, you shoot as many of them as possible while continuing to move. They shoot back, one hitting you in the leg.

‘Fuck.’

They seem to keep on coming, and slowly, they surround you. ‘Galahad do you copy?’ Bodies keep on falling, but time seems to be running out when another bullet hits you, this time in your left shoulder. Frustrated, you throw some more knives and grab one of your daggers. One by one they go down, and with every body that hits the ground, your green dress becomes more red and your limbs are covered in blood. As the last of your energy slowly leaves your body and you start feeling faint.

‘Galahad.’

It was barely a whisper which left your mouth. Before you are able to say anything else, you feel a gun being put against your temple. ‘Calm down lady, drop the knife.’ There was only one man left standing and he had the obvious advantage. You sigh, letting the weapon fall to the ground.

You had to find a way out of this situation, you always did, but your body seems to be done. A gunshot interrupts your train of thought, the gun which was held against your head, falling away. Turning, you see Galahad standing there.

‘You came.’

Your voice sounds exhausted as you stand there; shoulders slumped and body aching. Your colleague approaches and hugs your body tightly.

‘You called.’

He whispers in your ear before kissing the side of your head.

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muiitoloko · 2 months

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Your Protector

Summary: He would burn the whole world down for you.

Pairing: Harry Hart (Kingsman) × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Dark Harry, Obsession, Protectiveness, Distrust, Possessiveness.

Author's Notes: Thank you very much for the 100 followers 🥳🥰 This fanfic was lost in my drafts and I decided to post it.

You enter the dimly lit room with a mixture of apprehension and hope swirling in your chest. Merlin's words echo in your mind, the revelation that Harry is alive hitting you like a tidal wave after a year of mourning his supposed death. But the knowledge that he doesn't remember you, that he's been locked up at Kingsman, struggling with aggression and suspicion, casts a shadow over your heart.

As you step further into the room, your eyes fall on the figure sitting in the corner, his posture rigid and his gaze cold and distant. Harry Hart, your husband, alive and well but wearing an eye patch, his once warm and loving eyes now masked by a veil of confusion and distrust.

Your heart aches at the sight of him, so close yet so far away, a stranger in the body of the man you once knew. You approach him cautiously, your footsteps echoing in the silence of the room, your hands trembling with emotion as you clutch the photos in your grasp.

"Harry," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper as you come to stand before him. "It's me, your wife. I know this must be confusing for you, but please, look at these photos. They'll help you remember."

But Harry's reaction is not what you hoped for. Instead of recognition or warmth, his eyes narrow with suspicion, his lips curling into a sneer as he regards you with thinly veiled hostility. "Who sent you?" he demands, his voice laced with accusation. "What do you want from me?"

Tears well up in your eyes as you realize the depth of his confusion and mistrust. He doesn't remember you, doesn't trust you, sees you as nothing more than a stranger in his fractured reality. And yet, despite the pain and rejection, you refuse to give up on him.

With trembling hands, you offer him the photos, each one a snapshot of your life together, moments of happiness and love frozen in time. "Please, Harry," you plead, your voice cracking with emotion. "Just look at them. Remember who we are, who you are."

For a moment, there's a flicker of something in Harry's eyes, a glimmer of recognition buried beneath the layers of confusion and fear. But it's fleeting, gone as quickly as it came, replaced once more by the cold mask of indifference.

"I don't know you," he says, his voice hollow and distant. "I don't know any of this. Leave me alone."

Your heart shatters into a million pieces at his words, the weight of his rejection crushing you like a vice. You nod silently, understanding his need for space and his mistrust of those around him. With a heavy heart, you turn to leave, but not before placing the stack of wedding photos gently in his hand.

"I'll leave you in peace, Harry," you say softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "But please, take these. They're important."

As you start to walk away, a sudden grip on your hand stops you in your tracks. You turn back to see Harry, his gaze fixed on the engagement ring adorning your finger. It was his mother's ring, a cherished heirloom that held a special place in both of your hearts.

For a fleeting moment, there's a spark of recognition in Harry's eyes, a flicker of memory stirring within him. And then, as if a veil has been lifted, his features soften, and he looks at you with a sense of familiarity that fills you with hope.

"You," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I remember... [your name]."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, tears welling up in your eyes as you realize that he's starting to remember. Maybe not everything, but enough to know that you were someone important to him, someone he cared about deeply.

"Yes, Harry," you reply, your voice choked with emotion. "It's me. I'm here."

And in that moment, as Harry looks at you with newfound recognition, the weight of his suspicion and aggression begins to lift, replaced by a sense of connection and warmth. You know that it's just the beginning, that there's still a long road ahead filled with challenges and obstacles. But for now, in this moment, all that matters is that Harry is starting to remember, starting to come back to you. And with that glimmer of hope lighting the way, you know that together, you'll find a way to overcome whatever darkness lies ahead.

As you watched Harry's tentative recognition flicker and then ignite into a spark of remembrance, your heart soared with hope. Finally, it seemed like you were breaking through the barriers that had separated you for so long. But that hope was short-lived as Merlin entered the room, his presence casting a shadow over the fragile moment you had shared with Harry.

Merlin's expression was a mix of concern and anticipation as he approached, his eyes locked on Harry's guarded stance. But as he drew nearer, Harry's demeanor shifted, his suspicion rising like a dark cloud as he tensed, his hand tightening around yours in a protective grip.

You tried to reassure Harry that Merlin was a friend, that he was someone they could trust, but Harry's distrust ran deep. He regarded Merlin with narrowed eyes, his lip curling into a snarl of aggression as he pulled you closer, as if shielding you from a perceived threat.

Merlin's heart sank at the sight of Harry's hostility, his hopes of Harry regaining his memories fading with each passing moment. He had watched the entire interaction through the hidden camera in the room, praying for a breakthrough, but now it seemed that Harry's mistrust extended to everyone, even his closest allies.

"Harry, it's me, Merlin," he said softly, his voice filled with sadness. "I'm here to help you, to guide you through this. Please, you have to trust me."

But Harry's response was a growl of defiance, his distrust of Merlin palpable in the air as he refused to let his guard down. He saw Merlin as a threat, an intruder in his fractured reality, and he would do whatever it took to protect what was his.

In the days that followed, Harry's suspicion only deepened, his aggression simmering just beneath the surface as he clung to you like a lifeline. He didn't remember Kingsman, didn't remember his years as a spy, didn't even remember his own name. All he knew was that you were someone important to him, someone he had to protect at all costs.

You tried to reassure Harry, to help him piece together his fractured memories, but it was like trying to hold onto water slipping through your fingers. He didn't remember who he was, didn't remember the man he used to be, and it broke your heart to see him slipping further and further away from you with each passing day.

As Harry descended into darkness, consumed by suspicion and aggression, you found yourself caught in the crossfire of his turmoil. He was fiercely protective of you, distrustful of everyone else, and it was starting to take its toll on both of you.

You longed for the man you had once known, the kind and gentle soul who had stolen your heart and filled your life with love and laughter. But now, he was a stranger in the body of the man you loved, lost in a maze of confusion and fear.

And as you watched him spiral deeper into darkness, you couldn't help but wonder if there was any hope left for him, for the two of you. But deep down, you refused to give up, clinging to the sliver of hope that someday, somehow, you would find your way back to each other, no matter the cost.

As Eggsy entered the dimly lit room, his gaze filled with determination and hope, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of anxiety knotting in your stomach. You knew how much Eggsy longed for Harry's recognition, for the bond they once shared as mentor and protege to be restored.

But as Eggsy approached Harry, his enthusiasm palpable in the air, Harry's reaction was not what either of you had hoped for. Instead of warmth or recognition, Harry's cold gaze remained fixed on the photo album in your hands, his expression unreadable as he deliberately ignored Eggsy's presence.

"Eggsy maybe you should give him some space," you murmured softly, offering him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, he's just... not himself."

Eggsy sighed in disappointment, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he realized that Harry was still lost in the fog of his confusion and suspicion. "Yeah, I get it," he replied, his voice tinged with sadness. "I just... I miss him, you know? Miss the old Harry."

You nodded in understanding, feeling a pang of sympathy for Eggsy as he struggled to come to terms with the reality of Harry's condition. But despite the disappointment, he remained optimistic, his determination unwavering as he clung to the hope that someday, somehow, Harry would come back to them.

"I know, Eggsy," you replied softly. "But we'll get through this together, I promise."

As Eggsy tried to engage Harry in conversation, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity, Harry remained stoic and unresponsive, his attention focused solely on the photos in your hands. It was as if he had built a wall around himself, shutting out the world and retreating into the safety of his fractured memories.

As you sighed at your husband's indifference, sadness washed over you like a heavy wave crashing against the shore. The distance between you felt insurmountable, a vast chasm separating the man you loved from the reality of his fractured mind. But before your despair could consume you completely, Eggsy reached out to shake your hand in an encouraging and comforting grip, his presence offering a glimmer of solace in the darkness.

But Harry's reaction was swift and brutal, his hiss of warning slicing through the air like a knife as he grabbed Eggsy's hand and threw it away from you. The look of shock and fear on Eggsy's face mirrored your own horror as Harry's aggression escalated, his words dripping with possessiveness and jealousy.

"If you touch her again, I'll break your hand," Harry growled, his voice low and menacing as he fixed Eggsy with a steely gaze. "She's mine, understand? Mine."

You screamed in horror at Harry's outburst, the words tumbling from your lips in a desperate attempt to reason with him. "Harry, stop! He's just trying to help," you pleaded, your voice trembling with fear and frustration. "You can't just—"

But Harry's grip on reality was slipping further with each passing moment, his possessiveness bordering on obsession as he sent Eggsy away with a warning to stay away from "his fucking wife." Eggsy, visibly shaken by the encounter, hurriedly left the room, casting worried glances over his shoulder as he disappeared from view.

Alone with Harry, you felt a mixture of confusion and apprehension swirling in your chest as you confronted the dark and unfamiliar side of the man you loved. "Harry, what was that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to make sense of his sudden aggression. "You've never been like this before."

But Harry's response was unwavering, his gaze intense as he held you captive with his piercing stare. "I have to protect you," he said, his voice tinged with desperation. "No one else can touch you, only me. Do you understand?"

You were taken aback by Harry's possessiveness, his words sending a chill down your spine as you realized the depth of his paranoia and distrust. "Harry, this isn't like you," you protested, your voice tinged with concern. "You can't just—"

But Harry cut you off with a gentle yet firm touch, his hand coming to rest on your cheek as he silenced your protests with a tender kiss. "Trust me, darling," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing against your lips. "I'll keep you safe, no matter what it takes."

Reluctantly, you nodded, unable to deny the fierce determination in Harry's eyes. You knew that trying to reason with him in his current state would be futile, that the only way to calm his fears was to play along with his delusions, at least for now.

And as Harry smiled, his touch gentle and reassuring, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease gnawing at the edges of your mind. Harry may never hurt you intentionally, but his descent into darkness was a reminder that the man you loved was slipping further and further away from you with each passing day.

But for now, you pushed aside your doubts and fears, focusing instead on the fragile connection you still shared with Harry, praying that someday, somehow, you would find your way back to each other, no matter the cost.

As you reluctantly walked away from Harry, your heart heavy with the weight of his words and actions, you made a move to retrieve the wedding album from his grasp. The photos held precious memories, fragments of a life you both shared, and you couldn't bear to leave them behind, especially not in Harry's current state of confusion and suspicion.

"Harry," you began softly, your voice trembling with emotion as you reached out for the album. "I need to take these with me. We'll come back, I promise, but for now, I need to go home."

But to your surprise, Harry's reaction was not what you expected. Instead of acquiescing to your request, he tightened his grip on the album, his eyes flashing with determination as he declared, "No, I'm going with you."

You froze, taken aback by Harry's sudden insistence. "Harry, you can't," you protested gently, trying to reason with him. "You need to stay here until you've recovered your memories. It's not safe for you to leave."

But Harry's response was resolute, his gaze unwavering as he held you captive with his intense stare. "I don't need those useless memories," he insisted, his voice tinged with frustration. "I have you, and I have to protect you. That's all that matters."

You sighed in frustration, knowing that convincing Harry to stay would be an uphill battle. He was stubborn and fiercely protective, and you knew that trying to reason with him would only lead to further conflict. But you couldn't let him leave Kingsman without his memories, not when it could put him in even more danger.

"Harry, please," you pleaded, reaching for the album once more. "You can't go with me. It's not safe, not until you remember who you are."

But Harry's determination only seemed to grow stronger, his grip on the album tightening as he pulled you closer, his voice dropping to a low, seductive whisper. "I want to go home," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to feel your heat, taste your essence. I want to fuck you like I used to, lost in ecstasy."

You blushed deeply at his explicit words, taken aback by the raw intensity of his desire. Harry had never been so forward before, his words sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. But you knew that indulging in his fantasies wasn't an option, not when his safety was at stake.

"Harry, we can't," you protested weakly, trying to push away the flood of desire his words had ignited. "Not here, not now."

But Harry was relentless, his gaze dark and hungry as he looked around the room, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. "This place isn't safe," he growled, his fingers trailing down your arm possessively. "But home... home is where we can be together, where we can finally make love without fear."

You swallowed hard, the gravity of the situation sinking in as you realized just how far Harry had descended into darkness. But despite the danger and uncertainty, a part of you couldn't help but be drawn to his passion and intensity, to the promise of intimacy and connection that lay just beyond your reach.

"Harry, please," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion as you tried to reason with him one last time. "Stay here. You'll be safe, I promise."

For a moment, Harry's resolve wavered, his grip on you loosening slightly as he searched your eyes for reassurance. And then, as if coming to a decision, he reluctantly released the album, his gaze softening with resignation.

"Okay," he conceded, his voice barely above a whisper. "But promise me... promise me you'll come back soon. I can't bear to be without you any longer."

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. "I promise, Harry," you murmured, holding him close. "I'll come back for you, I swear."

And as you pulled away, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips, Harry's gaze lingered on you with a mixture of longing and desire. "Until then," he whispered, his voice filled with yearning. "Just know that you disturb my dreams, darling. I want you so much."

You blushed deeply at his words, a mix of embarrassment and affection flooding your heart as you watched him reluctantly release you. "I'll... I'll remember that," you stammered, trying to compose yourself as Harry chuckled softly, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

"Good," he replied, his smile filled with genuine warmth. "Because I'll be waiting for you, ready to make all your fantasies come true."

With one final glance back at Harry, his form silhouetted against the dim light of the room, you turned and walked away, your heart heavy with the weight of his words and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

As you crossed the threshold of Harry's suite the next morning, you were met with a sight that both warmed your heart and filled you with apprehension. Harry, with his rugged appearance and intense gaze, rushed towards you with a sense of urgency, sweeping you up into his arms in a gesture that felt both familiar and comforting.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern as he began to inspect you for any signs of injury, just like he always did whenever you returned to him.

You couldn't help but smile at his familiar routine, the way he checked you over with such meticulous care, as if he couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you. "I'm fine, Harry," you reassured him softly, running a hand through his unruly hair as he continued his inspection.

But Harry's worry didn't seem to diminish, his touch lingering on your skin as he searched for any hidden wounds or bruises. "I missed you," he confessed, his voice tinged with sadness as he finally let you go, his arms still wrapped around you in a tight embrace.

You tried to downplay the situation, reminding him that you had only been gone for a few hours, but Harry's grip only tightened as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

"I know," he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. "But it felt like an eternity without you."

You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at his words, knowing that Harry's confusion and paranoia only seemed to worsen with each passing day. But despite the darkness that threatened to consume him, his love for you remained steadfast and unwavering.

As you gently stroked his cheek, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips, Harry's gaze softened with affection. "I'm going to shave today," he declared suddenly, a hint of determination in his voice. "Merlin said they'll bring me a razor blade. I want to look presentable for you."

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension at the thought of Harry wielding a razor blade in his current state of mind, but you nodded nonetheless, not wanting to dampen his spirits. "That sounds like a good idea, Harry," you replied, offering him a reassuring smile.

As you stood in Harry's suite, enveloped in his protective embrace, the sudden sound of the door opening behind you shattered the moment of peace. Harry's reaction was immediate, his grip tightening around you as he tensed, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger.

But to of your relief, it was only Merlin who entered the room, his expression a mix of concern and apprehension as he took in the scene before him. However, Harry's guard remained firmly in place, his suspicion evident as he held you back, his gaze fixed on Merlin with a steely intensity.

Merlin approached cautiously, his hands held up in a gesture of peace as he tried to defuse the tension in the air. "Harry, it's just me," he said softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I brought something for you."

But Harry remained on high alert, his distrust of Merlin apparent as he watched him closely, his body coiled like a spring ready to pounce. It was clear that Merlin's presence only served to heighten Harry's paranoia, his suspicion of everyone around him growing more intense by the day.

Merlin seemed to have anticipated Harry's reaction, as he approached the table and placed an electric razor on the surface before retreating, his movements slow and deliberate so as not to provoke Harry further. But even this small gesture failed to put Harry at ease, his defensive stance unwavering as he continued to regard Merlin with a mixture of caution and hostility.

You sighed in frustration at Harry's refusal to trust Merlin, knowing that his paranoia was only exacerbating the situation. "Harry, Merlin is our friend," you reminded him gently, reaching out to touch his arm in an attempt to calm his nerves. "He's just trying to help."

But Harry shook his head stubbornly, his distrust of Merlin deeply ingrained as he refused to let his guard down. "I don't trust him," he muttered darkly, his gaze never leaving Merlin's retreating figure. "I don't trust anyone."

You sighed again, feeling a pang of sadness at Harry's growing isolation. It pained you to see him so lost and alone, his mind consumed by suspicion and fear. But you knew that pushing him to trust Merlin would only push him further away, so you remained silent, allowing Harry to come to his own conclusions in his own time.

As Harry cautiously approached the electric shaver on the table, his movements deliberate and cautious, you couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this small act of defiance against his paranoia was a sign that Harry was starting to come back to himself, that the man you loved was still buried somewhere deep inside.

With a sense of cautious optimism, you watched as Harry examined the electric razor, his expression shifting from suspicion to curiosity as he inspected it for any signs of danger. And when he found nothing amiss, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a hint of his old self shining through the darkness.

"I'm going to shave," he announced suddenly, his voice filled with determination as he picked up the electric razor, his gaze meeting yours with a sense of pride. "Just like the old days."

You returned his smile, feeling a surge of warmth in your heart at the familiar routine. Despite everything that had happened, Harry still had moments of clarity and connection, moments where the man you loved shone through the darkness of his confusion.

As Harry set to work shaving, his movements careful and precise, you couldn't help but feel a sense of hope stirring within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to bring Harry back from the brink, to help him reclaim the memories and the identity that had been stolen from him.

As Harry called you into the bathroom to help him, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to expect. But seeing the determination in his eyes, you pushed aside your doubts and entered the room, closing the door behind you.

Harry handed you the electric shaver, his expression serious yet strangely vulnerable as he took a seat on the toilet lid, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of apprehension and trust. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the sight of him, once a confident and capable spy, now reduced to a shadow of his former self.

Gently, you began to shave Harry's stubble, your movements slow and careful as you navigated around the scar tissue on his face. It was a task you had performed countless times before, a simple act of intimacy and trust that had once brought you both so much joy.

As you worked, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over you, memories of happier times flooding your mind as you recalled the countless moments you had shared with Harry before his memory loss. But those memories felt like a distant dream now, a bittersweet reminder of the life you had lost.

Suddenly, Harry spoke, his voice breaking the silence of the room as he confessed, "I remembered something today."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, excitement bubbling up inside you at the prospect of Harry regaining a piece of his lost identity. "What was it?" you asked eagerly, hope shining in your eyes as you waited for his response.

But Harry's answer caught you off guard, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he replied, "I remembered fucking you in a car."

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment at his blunt admission, the memory of those passionate encounters flooding back with startling clarity. It was true - you and Harry had shared many intimate moments in the backseat of his car, stolen kisses and whispered promises exchanged under the cover of darkness.

Harry watched your reaction with satisfaction, a playful smirk gracing his lips as he reveled in your embarrassment. He took the electric razor from you and set it aside on the sink.

"Harry, we can't—" you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to find the words to convey your discomfort. But Harry cut you off with a wicked grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear.

"Why not?" he whispered huskily, his tone laced with desire. "We're alone, aren't we? No one will know."

You blushed even deeper at his suggestive tone, the heat rising in your cheeks as you pushed him away gently, your heart pounding with a mixture of desire and apprehension. "Harry, we can't do that here," you protested weakly, your voice tinged with embarrassment. "It's not appropriate."

But Harry seemed undeterred by your protests, his gaze lingering on you with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. "I know," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "That's why I want to go home."

You shook your head adamantly, knowing that allowing Harry to leave Kingsman before he had fully regained his memories would be dangerous. "Harry, you can't," you insisted, your voice tinged with frustration. "It's not safe for you to go back until you remember who you are."

Harry's expression darkened at your refusal, his frustration bubbling to the surface as he struggled to contain his anger. "Why won't you let me go?" he demanded, his voice laced with frustration. "I need to be with you, to protect you. Don't you understand?"

You sighed heavily, knowing that Harry's insistence was driven by his fierce protectiveness and his desire to keep you safe. But you also knew that allowing him to leave Kingsman prematurely could put both of you in danger.

"Harry, I know you want to protect me," you began gently, reaching out to touch his arm in a gesture of reassurance. "But we have to wait until you've regained your memories. It's for your own safety."

Harry's grip tightened on your arm, his frustration boiling over as he struggled to control his emotions. "I don't need to remember anything to know that I love you," he growled, his eyes flashing with intensity. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if it means defying orders."

You recoiled slightly at his sudden aggression, surprised by the depth of his conviction. But you knew that allowing Harry to leave Kingsman against medical advice would only put both of you in danger, no matter how much he insisted otherwise.

"Harry, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion. "We can't risk it. Not until you're ready."

For a moment, Harry seemed to waver, his anger dissipating as he searched your eyes for reassurance. And then, as if coming to a decision, he reluctantly released his grip on your arm, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Fine," he muttered, his voice tinged with resignation. "But don't think I'll forget this."

You nodded, knowing that Harry's frustration was born out of his fierce protectiveness and his desire to keep you safe. But as you watched him turn away, a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of your mind, a silent reminder of the darkness that threatened to consume him.

As you tried to compose yourself, Harry's voice suddenly broke the tense silence once again with an unexpected question, his tone soft yet tinged with curiosity. "Did you... touch yourself last night?" he asked quietly, his gaze searching yours for any signs of hesitation.

You blushed furiously at his blunt question, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over you at the intimate inquiry. "Harry, that's none of your business," you scolded gently, trying to deflect his attention away from the uncomfortable topic.

But Harry seemed undeterred by your deflection, his gaze intense as he pressed you for an answer. "Did you think about me?" he persisted, his voice low and husky with desire. "Imagined it was me?"

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of embarrassment and arousal at Harry's brazenness. Despite your attempts to maintain composure, his proximity and his suggestive questions left you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

"I... that's not important right now," you stammered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you tried to change the subject. But Harry wasn't ready to let it go, his gaze unwavering as he continued to search your face for a response.

"Why not?" he countered, his voice tinged with frustration. "We could... we could make love here, in this bathroom. There are no cameras here, I checked."

You looked at him in surprise, taken aback by his sudden revelation. Was Harry aware of the surveillance cameras in Kingsman? It was a detail you hadn't considered before, but now that he mentioned it, it made sense.

"Harry, how do you know about the cameras?" you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity. "Did Merlin tell you?"

But Harry shook his head, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. "No," he replied cryptically. "I figured it out on my own. Did a little test."

You frowned in confusion, unsure of what he meant by "test." But before you could press him for more information, Harry continued, his tone serious yet tinged with mischief.

"I pretended I was going to kill myself here in this bathroom," he explained calmly, his eyes locking with yours in a silent challenge. "But no one came to stop me. Unlike the other times I did this in the bedroom."

You gasped in shock at his revelation, horrified by the thought of Harry putting himself in danger just to test the surveillance system. "Harry, that's reckless," you scolded, your voice tinged with concern. "You could have seriously hurt yourself."

But Harry brushed off your concern with a wave of his hand, his gaze unwavering as he pressed you for an answer to his earlier question. "Did you think about me?" he repeated softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a surge of arousal at the intensity of Harry's gaze. Despite your reservations, a part of you couldn't deny the allure of his suggestion, the promise of intimacy and connection in the midst of uncertainty and fear.

"I... yes," you admitted quietly, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you met Harry's gaze head-on. "I thought about you."

Harry's eyes lit up with satisfaction at your confession, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Good," he murmured, his voice filled with desire. "Because I've been thinking about you too."

And as Harry pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing down on yours in a passionate kiss, you couldn't help but lose yourself in the heat of the moment, the promise of intimacy and connection overshadowing the darkness that threatened to consume you both.

As Harry's lips trailed down your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, you tried to protest weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Harry, we shouldn't..."

But Harry silenced you with a hungry kiss, his hands roaming over your skin with possessive urgency. "Shh, love," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "Trust me, it'll be quick."

You couldn't help but let out a nervous chuckle at his promise, the tension between you palpable in the air. "God, I hope not too quick," you joked, trying to lighten the mood despite the apprehension coiling in your stomach.

Harry chuckled softly in response, his eyes dark with desire as he unraveled his sweatpants and took them off along with his underwear, his erection already straining against the fabric. "Don't worry, darling," he whispered, his voice husky with need. "I'll make it good for you."

Your heart pounded in your chest as Harry helped you take off your jeans and panties, his touch sending shivers down your spine as he caressed your skin with gentle reverence. But just when you thought he would take you, he surprised you by kneeling down in front of you, pulling one of your legs to rest on his shoulder.

With a sense of anticipation building inside you, you watched as Harry leaned in, his lips trailing kisses along your inner thighs, teasingly close but never quite reaching where you wanted him most. It was as if he wanted to savor every moment, to draw out the pleasure until you were begging for release.

You fought to stay silent, biting back a moan as Harry's warm breath ghosted over your most intimate parts, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Despite the urgency of your desire, you knew that making a sound could alert someone to your activities, and the last thing you wanted was to be interrupted.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, you reached out to tangle your fingers in Harry's hair, urging him closer with a desperate plea. "Harry, please," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I need you."

Harry's response was immediate, his lips closing around your throbbing clit as he began to suck and lick with fervent intensity. The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure washing over you in waves as Harry expertly teased and tantalized you, his fingers slipping inside you to stroke your most sensitive spots.

You couldn't hold back anymore, a moan escaping your lips as Harry's ministrations pushed you closer and closer to the edge. "Harry," you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation. "I'm so close."

But Harry didn't stop, his pace relentless as he drove you towards the brink of ecstasy. And just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he plunged his fingers deeper inside you, his tongue flicking over your clit with a skill that left you breathless.

With a cry of release, you came undone, pleasure crashing over you in a tidal wave of sensation. Harry didn't let up, his touch unrelenting as he milked every last drop of pleasure from your trembling body, his own desire evident in the way he worshipped you with his mouth and hands.

As you lay there, panting and spent, Harry rose to his feet with a satisfied smirk, his eyes burning with hunger as he gazed down at you. "You taste even sweeter than I remembered," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire.

You couldn't help but blush at his bold compliment, feeling a surge of arousal at the raw intensity of his desire. Despite the darkness that threatened to consume him, there was no denying the passion and connection that still burned between you, a flame that refused to be extinguished.

With a wicked grin, Harry pulled you into his arms, pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss that left you breathless. "I'm not done with you yet," he whispered against your skin, his voice filled with promise. "There's so much more I want to show you."

As Harry turned and bent you over the sink, you spread your legs even wider, eager to receive him. Your heart raced with anticipation as Harry grabbed your ass and spread your cheeks, his touch possessive and commanding.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice low and menacing as he gazed at you with intense desire. "All mine."

You whimpered in response, unable to suppress the surge of arousal that flooded your senses. "Please, Harry," you begged, your voice trembling with need. "Fill me up."

Harry didn't hesitate to obey, his one eye fixated on your expression in the mirror as he thrust into you with primal urgency. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, your senses overwhelmed by the raw intensity of the moment.

As Harry rocked against you, his balls hitting your clit with each powerful thrust, you couldn't help but moan in ecstasy. The sensation of him filling you completely, his body pressing against yours with unbridled passion, left you breathless and wanting more.

"Open your eyes," Harry commanded suddenly, his voice firm yet filled with longing. "Keep them on the mirror."

You obeyed without hesitation, locking eyes with your reflection as Harry continued to drive into you with relentless determination. The sight of your bodies moving together in perfect harmony, the raw desire and need reflected in both your gazes, only fueled the fire burning between you.

With each thrust, Harry's grip on your hips tightened, his control unwavering as he claimed you as his own. You surrendered completely to the pleasure, lost in the sensation of being filled and owned by the man you loved.

Harry grunted with each thrust, his voice breaking through the haze of pleasure, you felt a surge of heat flood your cheeks as he tightened his grip on your hips. His intense gaze bore into yours through the mirror, his one eye filled with primal desire as he questioned you with a husky tone.

"Have I ever taken your ass?" he asked, his voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and hunger.

You blushed even deeper at his blunt question, shaking your head slightly as you denied his assumption. "No, Harry," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "We've never tried that."

But Harry wasn't satisfied with your answer, his movements never faltering as he continued to drive into you with relentless determination. "Why not?" he demanded, his voice tinged with frustration. "I must have been pathetic back then if I didn't."

You tried to protest weakly, knowing that Harry's perception of his past self was skewed by his current state of confusion and paranoia. "Harry, you weren't pathetic," you insisted gently, your eyes meeting his through the reflection. "You just... you thought it was messy."

But Harry wouldn't accept your explanation, his grip on your hips tightening even further as he pressed you against him with possessive urgency. "I don't care about that anymore," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "I'll take your ass one day, I promise."

You groaned at the idea, your mind swirling with conflicting emotions as Harry's relentless thrusts drove you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. Part of you wanted to protest, to tell him that he didn't need to prove anything to you, that his past self wasn't pathetic and that you loved him just the way he was.

But all coherent thought fled from your mind as Harry reached out to squeeze your breasts through your blouse and bra, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Despite your reservations, you couldn't deny the overwhelming arousal that pulsed through your veins, drowning out any semblance of reason.

"Harry," you gasped, your voice filled with need as you clung to him desperately, your body arching against his with unrestrained desire. "Please, don't stop."

Harry's movements only grew more urgent in response, his grip on you tightening as he plunged deeper and deeper into your welcoming heat. His one eye bore into yours with a mixture of intensity and possessiveness, his primal desire evident in every powerful thrust.

Meanwhile, Harry's thoughts raced with a newfound sense of clarity, his perception of his past self tainted by his current state of paranoia and suspicion. He was convinced that the old version of himself was pathetic, weak, and unworthy of your love. But now, now he was different - stronger, fiercer, and more determined than ever to protect you at all costs.

As he lost himself in the pleasure of being inside you, Harry's mind became consumed by a single thought - he didn't need to recover his memories to be the man you needed him to be. He already had everything he needed right here, right now, with you in his arms.

"You feel so good," Harry murmured, his voice thick with desire as he buried himself deeper inside you, relishing in the sensation of your tight, wet heat surrounding him. "You're mine, [Your Name]. All mine."

You moaned in response, unable to form coherent words as pleasure coursed through your veins, leaving you breathless and wanting more. With each powerful thrust, Harry claimed you as his own, his grip on your hips possessive and unyielding.

And as you surrendered completely to the pleasure, lost in the intensity of the moment, Harry's resolve only grew stronger. He would keep you safe, no matter the cost. Even if it meant tearing down everything and everyone that stood in his way.

"You're mine," Harry growled, his voice low and menacing as he pressed you against him with unbridled passion. "And I'll do whatever it takes to protect you. Even if the world has to burn for it."

You whimpered in response, overwhelmed by the raw intensity of his desire and the fierce protectiveness that burned within him. Despite the darkness that threatened to consume him, there was no denying the depth of his love and devotion, a flame that refused to be extinguished.

As Harry continued to move inside you with primal urgency, you clung to him desperately, knowing that he was yours and you were his. And as you both reached the peak of ecstasy together, a sense of belonging washed over you, binding you to him in a way that transcended time and space.

"You're mine," Harry whispered against your skin, his voice filled with reverence and awe. "And I'll never let anything or anyone take you away from me."

And as you melted into his embrace, surrounded by the heat and passion of his love, you knew deep in your heart that you were safe, cherished, and fiercely loved by the man who would do anything to protect you. Harry was yours, your protector, your guardian angel demon that would keep you safe no matter what.

#harry hart #dark harry hart #kingsman secret service #harry hart x reader #colin firth #merlin #eggsy unwin

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tickle-bugs · 7 months

Text

The Ol' Kentucky Welcome

Summary: Eggsy’s attitude gets him into trouble at Statesman HQ. Whiskey and Tequila show him how they handle mouthy recruits with too much pride.

Anon: Hey! Love your work. I was trying to think of something I haven't read. So, kingsman and golden circle. Maybe eggsy, whiskey, and Tatum s characters get real drunk one night, start teasing each other and a full out brawl of a tickle fight happens!!! You can do it!!! Thanks!

Loose handwaving at and spoilers for Kingsman: The Golden Circle.

Becoming a Kingsman had done wonders for Eggsy’s impulse control and sense of self. He’s got restraint now, and better judgement—he doesn’t blindly chase a whim without considering the consequences first.

This is what he tells himself as he poaches a bottle of premium Statesman Reserve whiskey from a supply closet rather ominously labeled ‘This Ain’t For Sharing, Friend’. He makes sure to shuffle the bottles to disguise the large gap left behind on the shelf.

He settles in at the Statesman briefing room table, loosening his tie and shirt collar. He unbuttons his jacket and, in a rare flash of bad manners, kicks his feet up onto one of the nearby chairs.

The thought of Harry scolding him for it tugs at chest.

“Now what do we have here?” Whiskey whistles lowly, ducking into the doorway. Tequila fits in beside him. Eggsy gives a mocking salute before popping the cork on the bottle. He grabs a polished crystal glass from a platter on the table and pours himself a hefty bit.

“Looks to me like we’ve got a thief, Whiskey.” Tequila arches his brow. “Y’ain’t learned your lesson yet, Galahad?”

“Gentlemen.” Eggsy smirks and lifts his glass. The sharp kiss of the liquor burns his tongue, but it washes back with a smoky smoothness unlike anything he'd ever tried. He smacks his lips loudly, enjoying the slight twitch of Whiskey’s eyebrow in response.

“Thought you fancy-types were supposed to be polite.” Whiskey puts his hands on his hips.

“And I thought you brutish types couldn’t make something so delicious.” Eggsy angles the glass in the light. The liquid seems to glow.

Tequila ducks past Whiskey and takes a seat at the table, helping himself to a glass. He clinks glasses with Eggsy and they share another sip. Both of them sigh in unison, sinking deeper into their chairs. Whiskey throws Eggsy’s feet off his chair and takes a seat.

“You’re lucky I ain’t reportin’ you to Ginger Ale for theft.” Whiskey fixes himself a glass. He takes off his hat and rests it on the table. He shrugs off his jacket, draping it over the back of the chair.

“Report me for what?” Eggsy cocks his head. “You fine, upstanding gentlemen cracked open a bottle of your own reserve to share with your guest and I just had to say yes. Would hate to be impolite.”

Whiskey glares. Eggsy sips innocently.

“I like this motherfucker, Whiskey.” Tequila laughs, muffling himself in his fist. Whiskey shifts his glare.

“‘Course you do. You can’t keep your mug outta trouble to save your life.”

“Least my mug ain’t ugly,” Tequila grumbles. Eggsy snorts. Whiskey turns to fish for a pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket. As he leans forward, a silver shine peeks out of his pants pocket. Eggsy gently plucks a shiny lighter from Whiskey’s pocket and tucks it into his own.

“Champagne mentioned you’re a cheeky bugger.” Eggsy knocks shoulders with Tequila and winks.

“I dunno what that means.” Tequila frowns. They both watch Whiskey fumble around for the lost lighter and keep smooth, straight expressions.

“You get into shit. He’s fond of you?” Eggsy gestures at him. Tequila nods.

“Yeah, well…he wasn’t always. I’ve always been a bit of a firecracker. Didn’t make the best choices. Got people hurt. Built up a reputation for bein’ a problem, and Champagne started makin’ me own it.” Tequila watches his whiskey swirl in his glass. Eggsy hums thoughtfully.

“Sounds like Harry. He didn’t let me get away with shit. If I did something reckless, it was my arse on the line. But sometimes it paid off.” Eggsy smiles and thinks of stealing Harry’s cab on his way out of initiation.

“To good mentors.” Tequila inclines his head respectfully and raises his glass. Eggsy clinks their glasses together.

The three of them pass the time draining the bottle and looking out over the twinkling lights of the distillery buildings. A boyish mischief settles into Tequila, one that grows as the liquor in the bottle sinks. Whiskey starts to slur his words, but he maintains a hunter’s focus.

“Tell me somethin’, Eggsy. What brought you to Kingsman?” Whiskey watches him over the rim of his glass. His stare is piercing.

“Hm. Harry did. Not so different from Tequila, I reckon. I’d made a right fuckin’ mess and Harry saved me from it. Gave me a job. He saw something in me that no one else did.” Eggsy traces his fingers along the edge of his cup. He glances absently towards Harry’s cell and sighs quickly. Whiskey follows his gaze.

“Did your lepidopterist friend teach you to have sticky fingers, or do you just like causin’ problems?” Whiskey holds his hand out. Eggsy rolls his eyes and hands over the stolen lighter.

“I’ve always been good at nicking things. S’fun.” Eggsy grins and produces Whiskey’s wallet. Whiskey grumbles under his breath and snatches it.

“Feels like you’re the only one of your people that ain’t all hoity-toity. What other secrets are you hiding?” Tequila leans forward. The question grates against Eggsy’s better instincts. He searches Tequila’s face for the slightest bit of ill will. All that sticks is the way light catches softly on his eyes. Eggsy hums and turns his eyes to the ceiling to think.

“Well, my girlfriend bein’ a princess isn’t much of a secret anymore, so…I was a gymnast for a bit.” Eggsy grins. Tequila’s eyes light up and he starts snapping in Whiskey’s direction. For each snap, Whiskey gives a disgruntled hm until eventually they’re just swatting at each other.

“Whiskey, don’t we have them flippy bars down in the gym?” Tequila sniffs, blinking as the liquor hits his sinuses. Eggsy perks up. A spark of excitement picks up atop the warm flush of liquor in his stomach.

“We do. For Statesman agents. Y’know Rum and Cognac get real touchy ‘bout their stuff.” Whiskey raises an eyebrow.

“Well, we’re workin’ together now, ain’t we? ‘Sides, Rum and Cognac ain’t here. Let’s walk him down there. I wanna see what he can do.” Tequila claps Eggsy on the shoulder. Eggsy gives his best winning smile. Whiskey grumbles, then downs the rest of his glass.

“Fuck it. Fine. Five minutes.”

…

They stumble down to the Statesman training facility, passing by a very tired Ginger Ale who opts not to ask why Eggsy’s wearing Tequila’s hat (pretty simple, it’s ‘cause he nicked it). Whiskey puts his thumb to a scanner and the wall unfolds for them.

The lights click on in rows, lighting the industrial space. Eggsy gasps like a kid on Christmas morning.

Sophisticated weight training and combat equipment sit in neat rows. Eggsy locks in directly past that, drifting unconsciously towards a heaping pile of chalk bags. Pommel horses, beams, bars, and hanging rings sprawl out on a spring mat, all in pristine condition. A few launchpads and trampolines lay near the equipment. Eggsy laughs incredulously as he takes it in. Nostalgia flutters in his chest.

Eggsy immediately unbuttons his shirt, folding it cleanly and crisply. He shoves it and the cowboy hat into Tequila’s arms, adjusts his tank top, then works to unlace his shoes. The moment his feet are free, he sprints for one of the springboards. He hits it clean, just like he’d learned, and pushes off the vault, twisting through the air. His landing is a bit messy, but it’s functional, and he takes off to the parallel bars next.

The alcohol writhes in his system, but he doesn’t care. How can he? It’s been years. Coach’d told him he was good enough for the fucking Olympics and he hadn’t touched a set of bars since. The flex of the bars is a comfort to him. He flips and twirls, holding crisp handstands and tucks through muscle memory alone.

He dismounts beautifully from the parallel bars to the pleasant thrum of adrenaline and a smattering of applause.

“Hoowee, that was somethin’!” Tequila ruffles Eggsy’s hair, destroying the last hold of the gel on his head. Eggsy laughs and swats him away.

“Hats off to you, kid. Takes a lot of skill to pull that off.” Whiskey nods in respect. Eggsy returns it.

“I ain’t gonna lie, I thought you were gonna fall on your ass. I’m impressed.” Tequila slugs his shoulder with a brassy laugh.

“Thanks, Tequila.” Eggsy grins roguishly. “Mind givin’ me a boost?”

“Sure.” Tequila follows Eggsy over to the high bar. Whiskey loudly clears his throat.

“Boys, this has been…eye-openin’, but we really should get goin’. Early start tomorrow, I imagine. And this one’ll be fit to collapse when the time difference catches up.” Whiskey inclines his head towards Eggsy.

“Sorry, bruv? Can’t hear you all the way over there.” Eggsy gestures to his ear with a cheeky grin.

“I said—“

“No, no. If you have something to say, come whisper it in my fucking ear.” Eggsy snickers, hearing Merlin’s voice in his head. Whiskey rolls his eyes and saunters over.

“Look, I respect you ‘cause Champagne respects you. Other than that, you’re still a brat that oughta fall into line. Let’s turn in for the night. Both of you.” Whiskey raises his eyebrow. The honey tones of his voice make his annoyance all the more amusing.

“What’re you gonna do about it? Get me with your skipping rope?” Eggsy smirks. Tequila mutters a quiet aw hell and takes a step back.

“Maybe I will, you little shit.”

Eggsy comes to terms with a number of things about himself in that moment, and he puts them all away to process sober. Instead, he gestures for Tequila to give him a hand and reaches up for the bar.

Tequila picks him up by the waist, and it’s not the smooth, assisted lift he’s used to. It’s the clumsy grip of a drunk surprised by weight. Tequila does lift Eggsy up to the bar, but at the cost of his dignity— he spasms and makes a high-pitched noise when Tequila’s fingers press into his waist.

In hindsight, he should’ve seen the way Whiskey’s eyes narrowed at that.

“What the hell was that?” Tequila squints up at him.

“Nothin’. Thought you were gonna drop me. Bugger off.” Eggsy kicks weakly in Tequila’s direction. He backs up, hands raised. Whiskey steps in, hands on his belt.

“Get off the bar, Eggsy.” Whiskey sniffs authoritatively. The logical Kingsman agent buried in Eggsy’s brain sets off warning bells, but Drunk Eggsy, who is obviously of much sounder mind, ignores it.

“Make me, Whiskey.” Eggsy starts to swing in the space he has. Not enough to kick anyone, but enough to look like he will. He manages to rotate clumsily around the bar once, then hangs back down in front of Whiskey.

“You want me to embarrass you in front of your new friend? Okay.” Whiskey steps up to Eggsy and makes a show of sizing him up. Then, quicker than the draw of his pistols, his hands latch onto Eggsy’s sides and squeeze until he’s screaming and plummeting off the bar. Eggsy’s short life flashes before his eyes as he falls bodily into Tequila’s arms.

“Are you fucking mental?” Eggsy goes to shove Whiskey, but Tequila holds him back.

“Woah, watch that mouth of yours!” Whiskey laughs, eyes glittering. “You told me to make you. Your wish is my command, friend.”

Eggsy kicks, trying to break Tequila's hold, and he catches Whiskey right in the balls. He makes a noise like a wounded donkey and folds over. Eggsy snickers. Whiskey whips his reddening face up and glares.

“Now you’ve done it. Tequila!” Whiskey tosses something his way and he catches it. Eggsy barely has time to react before his arms are bound and hoisted in the air above his head. His toes brush the ground. The bar above him creaks in protest but does not give.

Whiskey puts his hands on his hips again. Eggsy wonders if that’s a cowboy thing or an American one.

“Skippin’ rope, bitch.” Whiskey grins, sharklike. “Now…you done with the whole insubordination routine or am I gonna have to give you the ol’ Kentucky Welcome?”

Eggsy snorts derisively. He tests his bindings. They hold steady. Fear starts to pierce through his liquid courage.

“I’m honored, bruv, but I’m in a committed relationship—“

Whiskey clicks his tongue and crowds into Eggsy’s space. He immediately steels himself for violence—what else would there be besides violence? He’s been jumped before. He’s no stranger to the predatory tilt of Whiskey’s head. He sets his jaw and glares.

“When Tequila first joined up, he carried a bit of them clownin’ instincts with him. That didn’t fly with Champagne. We had to figure out a way to take him down a few pegs without hurtin’ him. So, the Kentucky Welcome was born.”

“Aw, fuck you, Whiskey. Seriously, man.” Tequila pipes up from behind Eggsy.

“What does this have to do with me? I know you Americans love to hear yourself talk, but I’m not interested.” Eggsy tries to pull free. Nothing. Whiskey’s gaze gets softer, more mischievous. The change is deeply unnerving.

“Well, you remind me of Tequila. You’ve clearly got a good head on your shoulders, but you’re a little shit. So I’m gonna deal with you the same way we used to deal with him. Last chance, kid. You comin’ quietly or are we gonna have to drag you?”

Eggsy flinches when Whiskey reaches for him—years of habit die hard—and prepares himself for the hard crunch of knuckles into his ribs. Instead, he’s met with a gentle and persistent scritching.

A confused noise bubbles up at the back of Eggsy’s throat, quickly chased by a wobbly smile. He ducks his head and bites his lip.

Oh what the fuck?

Kingsman had taught him to resist the most painful and stressful of scenarios, but they’d never taught him what to do about this. Tilde’s maybe the only person who knows that he’s ticklish, and even then…he can convince her to let him go by kissing her senseless. Eggsy doubts that’ll work here.

“Uh oh, Galahad. Don’t tell me something’s botherin’ you?” Whiskey presses an insincere hand to his heart. Eggsy’s brain stutters for a moment as he realizes that Tequila’s the one scratching at his ribs.

“Fffffuck you.” Eggsy exhales sharply through his nose and closes his eyes--nope, that’s worse. So much worse.

Whiskey tickles under his arms and Eggsy yelps, bright laughter tumbling after. It shouldn’t be this bad—Tilde’s done far worse to him in jest, but somehow the teasing grin of his begrudging allies gets under his skin. His arms flex as he tries to pull himself up and away, but his strength collapses with every breath.

“Aw, y’all are twins.” Whiskey leans around Eggsy to smirk at Tequila.

“Whiskey.” Tequila’s languished tone being hilarious really doesn’t help things. Eggsy’s entire face scrunches as he tries to find his way back towards composure. A hiccup sneaks into his chest, and then he’s giggling incessantly. His chest feels like the sparklers he’d run around with as a kid, bright and fizzling and dissolving with every breath.

“Y’know, I wish I had tried this when I first caught y’all. Prolly woulda gone a hell of a lot faster.” Tequila’s voice floats past Eggsy’s ear. Eggsy manages a giggly growl and a halfhearted headbutt in his direction. Tequila tuts at him and folds his fingers into Eggsy’s waistline.

He makes a noise at a pitch that threatens to shatter every lightbulb in the room. Tequila’s calloused fingers strum Eggsy’s nerves like guitar strings and it tickles, fucking shit—

Tequila hooks his fingers just so and Eggsy kicks. Whiskey snags his ankle before a second devastating impact can occur. They make tortuous eye contact.

“Whiskey—“ Eggsy attempts to appeal to the cowboy’s humanity with what Merlin fondly calls his nuclear puppy eyes.

Grinning wickedly, Whiskey shakes his head and reaches for his trapped foot.

Eggsy’s eyes bug out of his head.

He wrenches his leg free, twists his hands, and flips upwards. Managing a gold-worthy handstand into a dismount, he frees his wrists and lands smoothly. Eggsy playfully curtsies. Tequila starts to clap. Whiskey smacks him upside the head.

“Alright, I’m done playin’ around. Grab him. If we’re caught down here at this hour it’ll be my hide.” Whiskey gestures for Tequila to step in. He does so, still a little off-kilter from the liquor.

Eggsy rushes in, expecting a clumsier rendition of the fighting style he’d been so painfully introduced to. Instead, Tequila smoothly blocks his blows and hoists Eggsy over his shoulder like a sack of fucking potatoes. One of his arms locks behind Eggsy’s thighs as they start to walk for the door. It takes him a moment to even process being upside-down. The sway of Tequila’s gait shakes some blood into his brain.

“Aw, y’all are twins.”

“—deal with you the same way we used to deal with him—“

A lightbulb clicks on in Eggsy’s head. He shouldn’t…but he could…but he shouldn’t—

He shoves his hands under Tequila’s arms. Before he can blink or breathe, they’re in a heap on the ground. Tequila’s cackling dead weight presses the air from Eggsy’s chest.

“Thought you’d put up more of a fight, bruv.” Eggsy’s eyebrows raise. Tequila shrieks at him in response. Eggsy manages to wiggle free and hop lightly to his feet as Tequila gathers his wits.

“There’s one of you and two of us. Be wise.” Whiskey cracks his neck. Eggsy looks over at Tequila and smirks devilishly. Tequila pales.

“I like those odds.”

The flurry of motion as they charge each other sets off the ‘fight’ center in his brain, but there is some comfort in knowing no harm is on the table. Eggsy flips and twists out of their grasp, taking advantage of his flexibility to pull off increasingly ridiculous dodges. He neatly sweeps both Whiskey and Tequila’s legs out from under them.

“Little help?” Whiskey gestures lamely at Tequila.

“Nah, I’m done. Y’all are nuts.” Tequila lays on his back, putting his hat down over his face. He folds his arms behind his head. Whiskey curses at him. Tequila gives him the finger.

Whiskey grabs Eggsy by the back of the shirt--really, he should know better--and Eggsy sweeps him again. Whiskey’s ready for it this time, though, and he manages a pin faster than Eggsy can roll away. Whiskey plants himself on Eggsy’s back like he’s settling on a bull.

“Aren’t you tired? Goddamn.” Whiskey sighs. Eggsy winces at the texture of the mat against his cheek.

It reminds him of Roxy and agonizing training sessions, of hours of sweat and bruising and his face stinging from being slammed into the mat. Even past the wave of grief, he remembers the shape of her smile when she would lecture him about letting her pin him on his stomach.

“Indefensible,” she’d say, prodding the back of his ribs. “You’re a sitting duck like this.”

And every time he’d roll his eyes, hooking his fingers behind her knees--

Oh. Hm.

As best as he can, he reaches back and latches onto Whiskey’s thigh, squeezing just above his knee. Whiskey hollers and tries to phase right through the floor. Eggsy rolls them over and pursues, squeezing and squeezing until Whiskey is a wheezing pile on the floor.

Eggsy flips onto his feet. He knows he’s imagining the fond, ghostly squeeze on his shoulder, but he puts his hand on the spot anyways.

“Now I’m tired. Goodnight, fellas.” Eggsy salutes with a wide grin, stepping over both cowboys. He gathers his belongings and saunters for the door, whistling pleasantly.

Whiskey rubs a hand over his face as he stares up at the ceiling.

“Kid’s fuckin’ lucky I like him,” Whiskey grumbles, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“Might not wanna speak too soon. He took your hat.” Tequila puts his own ten-gallon back on his head and gestures towards the door with a whistle. Whiskey growls and shoots to his feet.

“Motherfucker! Eggsy!”

#my fics #this fic truly wrote itself. i blacked out and it just happened #and then i realized i didnt properly read the prompt and then rewrote it lol #is this good? *vague mumbling and shrugging*. did i have fun? absolutely #kingsman #ticklish!eggsy #eggsy unwin #ticklish!whiskey #agent whiskey #ticklish!tequila #agent tequila #<- contenders for some of my silliest tags #theres an au in my head where roxy merlin eggsy and harry play cowboy with the statesman agents for a while #mostly bc i want cowboy roxy...#anyways ive wanted to write kingsman forever! thx for the prompt hope you enjoy <3 #also anon 'you can do it!!! thanks!!!' has been in my head since you sent the prompt. like yea i CAN do it!!! thank YOU!!!!

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caspianofcamelot · 4 months

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Rewatched the Kingsman movies and for some reason this time around they have gripped me by the throat so enjoy some unfinished boys

#kingsman #kingsman merlin #harry hart #eggsy unwin #kingsman eggsy #kingsman golden circle #art #artists on tumblr #fanart #male art #my art #portrait #digital art #drawing #caspianofcamelot

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aljeensane · 10 months

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mentally ill because of this catholic whore

#harry hart #kingsman #galahad #agent galahad #golden circle #pls #brainrot #kingsman fanart #i am unwell #colin firth #eggsy unwin #merlin #i made this before the queen died

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thingsasbarcodes · 5 months

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Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)

#kingsman #kingsman the secret service #the secret service #eggsy unwin #harry hart #galahad #merlin #roxy morton #charlie hesketh #lancelot #richmond valentine #gazelle #arthur #chester king #princess tilde

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belalugosiseyebrows · 2 months

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Wish Lancelot could've met Eggsy, he's constantly surrounded by very serious co-workers

#my artwork #traditional drawing #pen doodles #pen drawing #kingsman the golden circle #kingsman #kingsman the secret service #lancelot #merlin #galahad #percival #eggsy unwin #gary unwin #harry hart #james spencer #mark strong #colin firth

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kingsmint · 8 months

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KINGSMAN STICKER 1 IS DONE !!!

#kingsman #fanart #harry hart #eggsy #merlin kingsman

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headcanonthings · 13 days

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Merlin: -three leveled buildings, all outside of the demolition zone! What do you have to say for yourself?? Eggsy: Uh… I made a oopsie daisy? Merlin: *takes a deep breath before he turns to harry* Merlin: Do you have anything to add, Arthur? Harry: … whoops? Merlin: Roxy: … I’ll like to remind you I had nothing to do with this-

#incorrect quotes #incorrect kingsman quotes #kingsman #merlin kingsman #eggsy unwin #harry hart #roxy morton

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renx01 · 1 month

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Playing Along - Part 1

Prompt: “Just play along, please” inspired this multiple part fic, in which agent Galahad and Kay are on a mission together in the French Alps. Here, they have to pretend to be a couple, despite the two of them being rivals and Kay always wanting to beat him at everything. Pairing: Harry Hart x Kingsman!Reader Fandom: Kingsman Tags/Warnings: fake dating, slowburn, rivals Word count: 2347

Masterlist

Harry and you have been sent on a mission together. While most of it is supposed to be gathering intelligence, there is a high-risk of having to kill some criminals to make sure they can’t spread word of your existence any further. Tonight is the first evening at the ski resort. The trip in and of itself wasn’t too eventful, Merlin flew the two of you to the French Alps, where you were picked up by a car and brought to the chalet you’ll be staying in. It is quite cosy, but still comfortable. It has two small bedrooms with a queen sized bed, a nightstand and a closet. You would have to share the bathroom, but that was standard procedure when it came to these sorts of missions. While Harry takes the room on the right, you take the one on the left and start unpacking your luggage.

From the kitchenette you hear Harry’s voice ‘Tea?’ ‘Yes please.’ You call back out to him. Quickly, you put the last of your clothes in the closet, while you put your other supplies under the bed in their metal briefcase. Before walking to where Harry is, you quickly go into the bathroom and put your bag of toiletries into the cupboard.

‘Do sit down, Kay.’ Harry motions you to take a seat and pours some tea into your cup. ‘Thank you Galahad,’ you sip your tea, ‘it’s lovely.’ He also takes a drink. ‘I always find a black tea and citrus blend warms one up quite well, especially in this sort of weather.’ His eyes shift to the window, yours following. A lot of snow had fallen the past week or so. ‘The predictions say it’ll start snowing again in two days.’ A surprised sound escapes Harry’s throat. ‘I’d hoped for clear skies, suppose we can’t have everything.’ He says matter of factly. ‘You only go skiing with good weather? I thought a bit of snow wouldn’t stop you.’ The teasing comment earns you a glare. ‘I don’t, however I do prefer some blue skies rather than grey ones that have snow constantly falling out of them.’ The agent scoffs.

Before finishing your tea, the two of you decide to talk through some of the plans for that evening and the upcoming week. ‘So we’re a couple? Or should we go another route with the story?’ He’s quiet for a moment. ‘I think that pretending to be a couple may be the most believable;’ his eyes divert, ‘especially considering that we will probably need to get close to other couples anyway.’ You nod. It wasn’t too unusual for you to play a couple when it came to missions such as this one, though it never went any further than some kisses on the cheek, holding hands, or having an arm around each other. Harry and you got along well enough, but there was always this underlying tension. He has always been favoured by Arthur and Merlin, probably partially because he has been a part of the Kingsman for quite a bit longer than you. Because of this, you always want to beat him, in whichever way possible. It remains unspoken, but you suspect Galahad enjoys it quite a bit. ‘The usual rules?’ You nod again. ‘Kay, you know I need more confirmation than you just nodding.’ ‘Yes, Galahad, the same rules as usual. No kissing on the lips unless absolutely necessary for our cover and no intimacy under any circumstances. Physical contact is to be kept to a minimum, holding hands or putting an arm around the other’s shoulder is fine.’ It was almost robotic as it came out of your mouth. ‘Good.’ He smiles. ‘Now, I was thinking we take the gondola up the mountain tomorrow morning around 9?’

The following morning you sat at the kitchen table around 8, a bowl of yoghurt and a cup of tea in front of you. Harry sits on the other side of the table sipping his tea as he waits for his toast. The both of you sit in silence until the both of you finish your breakfast and put on your glasses. ‘Galahad. Kay. Good morning to the both of you.’ Merlin’s voice is quite clear. ‘Morning.’ You mutter before Harry starts talking through the mission. Being more of a night owl meant that the early mornings which came with the job from time to time really weren’t your favourite. Pictures of some people flash before your eyes. ‘These are the targets. You’ll be pretty likely to interact with them either in one of the many ski huts or when you’re eating out in the evening. Try to befriend them in order to gain their trust and information.’ Merlin pauses. ‘So I’d like the both of you to avoid bickering in public.’ Harry looks at you. ‘Yes Merlin, I’ll try my best to not annoy Galahad too much.’ He scoffs. ‘It’s not that you annoy me, it’s just that you can be so incredibly incompetent at times, Kay.’ ‘As if you aren’t Galahad. Remember last year’s Christmas party?’ You retort.

‘This is exactly what I’m trying to avoid here.’ Merlin interrupts you before you’re able to say anything else. ‘Look, the two of you are meant to be a couple. Act like it.’ The more annoyed the bald man becomes, the thicker his Scottish accent. The instructions were quite clear so you look Galahad in the eye. ‘Time to go skiing?’ Your voice drips in honey.

On the mountain itself, you didn’t speak to Galahad much, only discussing what slopes to take next and what off-piste routes may be of use if necessary. While both of you are quite proficient when it comes to skiing, Harry’s more old school, focussing on making those perfect turns and going at a steady speed. You, on the other hand, tend to show off from time to time, doing jumps or little tricks whenever you pass him. Around noon, you decided to have lunch together at one of the huts. This one had quite the amazing view of the slopes and nature surrounding it.

‘Je prendrai le croque monsieur avec un verre de vin, s'il vous plaît.’ Of course his French was impeccable. ‘Je prendrais les crêpes et un verre de vin, le même que mon ami, s’il vous plaît.’ While you had studied the language for a while, much more than ordering food wasn’t in your cards at the moment. Unlike most members of the Kingsman, or its candidates for that matter, you have not had a private education, meaning that you didn’t get much of an opportunity to learn foreign languages on a higher level. ‘You speak French?’ Harry asks you. ‘Not much, just enough to get by in restaurants and shops. I’d like to study it again in order to improve at some point in the future.’ He smiles. ‘It sounded pretty good, if you want I can teach you a little bit when we get back to the cabin? Before we go out for dinner.’ ‘Sounds good, thanks.’ You smile back. ‘Would you want me to teach you a few tricks in turn?’ Reaching out, he takes hold of your right hand and leans forward. ‘I don’t think I’m the type to learn tricks.’ He pauses and whispers. ‘Now, that couple at 8 o’clock is one of our targets. Let’s keep an eye on them throughout our lunch.’ The food arrives as he says so. He releases your hand and sits up straight once again. ‘Merci.’

The food was pretty good, the wine complimenting it well enough. After finishing, both of you order a cup of tea and sit in silence, enjoying the sun which finally came out from behind the clouds. You lean back in your chair, stretching your legs and closing your eyes for a moment. The cold air feels wonderful against your skin. You hear the chair in front of you move for a moment. Opening only one eye, you see Harry has grabbed a pocket-sized novel from his jacket and has started reading. Quickly, you close your eye again. It was quite comfortable like this, a last moment of rest before you’d have to go socialise and get close to the given targets. The current plan is that before you head back to your cabin, you'll visit an apres ski bar, as it’s likely you’ll meet more of your targets there and may overhear what they’re planning for the upcoming few days. There’s one bar which is particularly popular amongst the targets, so you decided that that would be the place to go that afternoon. But for now, you decided you’d just enjoy the peace and quiet. After a few minutes, Harry closes his book. ‘I’ll be right back dear.’ You open your eyes and look at him, smile, and nod. You follow his figure with your eyes. It becomes clear that he’s following one of the targets into the bathroom, pretending on having to go himself. As you wait, you slowly drink some more of your tea, silently observing the woman that was with the target just moments before. You take a picture of her with your glasses and send it to Merlin and whisper, ‘Any idea who this is?’ His response is swift. ‘That’s Guilia Fontana. Her father is a quite well known criminal in Italy, I think she tends to be less prominent within his organisation. What’s notable is that she’s recently been spotted multiple times with our target Angelo Bianco, it seems they’re on holiday together.’ Shortly after confirming the information and asking a few more questions, Harry arrives, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek before whispering, ‘Good news, I know where we’ll have dinner tonight.’ You look at him confused. ‘Got a particularly good address from our friend, who’ll be eating there tonight as well.’ He smirks when he pulls away and sits down next to you, his hand resting on your knee. Had he not been a colleague you desperately wanted to beat at everything, you might’ve found this moment of closeness attractive, but considering everything, you were more annoyed that you didn’t discover it before him. ‘And what sort of food do they serve, love?’ The last word came out almost strained.

You spent a couple of more hours on the slopes before heading to the apres ski bar. During that time, Merlin informed you that he’d managed to get the two of you a table at the aforementioned restaurant. It was quite fancy, according to him, and it served mostly french food.

At the bar, you go get some drinks. While ordering, a man moves to stand next to you. It happens to be the target Galahad had followed earlier in the day, Angelo Bianco. You aren’t too interested in talking to him immediately, but he starts up a conversation with you as you both wait. ‘Good afternoon, I think I talked to your man earlier today. What’s your name?’ ‘I’m Cameron, but you may call me Cam. What’s your name?’ You hold out your hand for him to shake it. ‘Nice to meet you Cam, I’m Angelo.’ He says as he takes it to shake it. ‘Likewise, Angelo.’ You smile at him. ‘So what’s brought you here to France? Having a nice holiday?’ ‘Ah yes, me and my fiance are here on holiday, some of her family will be coming to join us in a couple of days. What about you?’ This was quite useful information, you’d have to try and stretch this as much as possible. ‘That sounds lovely. Me and my partner are here on a holiday trip as well, though we have quite different skiing styles, so it can be a challenge from time to time.’ He laughs. ‘I know what that’s like, Guilia only wants to take blue and red slopes, rarely is she open to going off the black ones. Park is never really an option either.’ This is perfect. ‘Yeah, Harry isn’t a fan of the parks either. I think it’s a mental thing of not wanting to jump or something. I’d love to check them out though, I’ve heard they’re pretty amazing here.’ Angelo’s eyes light up, exactly what you’d hoped for. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Harry approach as you continue talking to Angelo. ‘Ah hello Harry, how’s it going?’ The bartender finally comes up with your drinks and you quietly pay as the two men talk. ‘Cam and I were just talking about the ski resort and everything it offers. Perhaps we can meet with the four of us at lunch tomorrow, check out the parks afterwards? I heard you guys were new here so we could show you around if you’d like?’ Harry seems to hesitate, so you slightly nudge him with your elbow and join the conversation once again. ‘That’d be lovely Angelo, thank you for the offer. We’d love to have you show us around, maybe Harry and Guilia can watch while we do a few park rounds after lunch? I’ve heard there’s a hut that has a great view of it.’

While you secured the supposed “double date”, Harry didn’t look too happy; at least to those who are able to see through his pleasant mannerisms. After excusing yourselves, having had a couple of drinks with Angelo and Guilia, the two of you go outside. Turning a corner, into a dimly lit area, Harry grabs your elbow and angrily whispers, ‘What do you think you’re doing? Inviting us on a double date with some of the most well-connected Italian criminals? This was not a part of the plan Cam.’ The way he pronounced the last sentence was almost venomous. ‘Harry, this is our opportunity to gain more information than expected.’ You whisper back angrily. ‘It’s dangerous.’ He retorts.

‘As if everything else we do isn’t, Galahad. Just play along, please.’ You almost spit out the words before pulling your arm free and walking to your skis. You still had a dinner to attend later that evening after all.

#fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 writer #harry hart #harry hart imagine #harry hart reader insert #harry hart x reader #kingsman #kingsman imagine #the kingsman #kingsman reader insert #merlin kingsman #reader insert #kingsman x reader #eggsy unwin

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