#My 3D work is being beaten down by senioritis

[luckyyyduckyyy]

My ass is cooked in crit tomorrow 😔

[muse-oleum]

What did you want to show me?

Kingsman: Harry Hart x fem!reader

Prompt #67: “Let me show you what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules”

Summary: Another honeypot because it’s Harry Hart. Pulsating sexual tension and rough sex at the other end. Thank me later. 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: smutty af; swearing

When you get to the smut piece, play this, it’s my thot anthem. 

As a new Kingsman recruit, and one out of a grand total of two female recruits, you naturally drew attention to yourself. 

That, and your fiery, feisty and general no-bullshit nature. In fact, if half of Kingsman was enthralled by you, the other half stayed well clear of you. 

You’d been put forward by agent Bedivere, who knew what she was about. She’d been in your shoes only a handful of years before, and was a friend before a mentor. Thanks to her guidance, you made it to the very last round, and passed your last task with flying colors. 

Apart from Bedivere, Eggsy, Roxy and Merlin (even though he professed he “didn’t do favorites”), there was one other agent who was secretly glad of your enrollment. 

Agent Galahad, 6ft2, in his early fifties, with a killer swagger walk, was one handsome package. 

A tall, very English, very sexy package, who also happened to be a good twenty years your senior. 

That only made his occasional touches more thrilling. 

You were convinced nobody else had caught on to your mutual flirtation. Or, at least, you fervently hoped nobody else had because Merlin would definitely kill the both of you. With the amount of times you two had nearly blown up a mission by “accidentally” losing focus, you wondered at having never been told down by the quartermaster. 

Tonight, you could already tell, was just going to be another one of these nights. But this time, there was a twist. This was a honeypot. Your favorite. 

Why favorite? Honeypots were amongst the most entertaining missions on your agenda. There was nothing you enjoyed more than watching all these criminals fawn over you, and get absolutely dragged into the dust two seconds later. Hadn’t found anything more satisfying yet.

Roxy said this violent streak of yours was exactly why half of Kingsman was legitimately terrified at the idea of being left alone with you. 

All except agent Galahad. 

In fact, he was convinced what had originally attracted him to you was your sheer violence. If you had a grueling day, God have mercy on the poor soul who looked at you the wrong way. You could go rogue in a split second, and were never more powerful and sexy than when you were fighting. 

He wasn’t at all sure how he was going to handle tonight’s mission. You were posing as a couple (again) taking interest in a some underhand weapon deal (again) and he was going to need a cold shower as soon as he got back (again). 

The very moment he saw you approach the car, he felt a painful pull in his groin. 

You had opted for an open back red dress, figure hugging but bulletproof and comfortable. You had spent all the evening making plans as to how to successfully steal it from Kingsman’s seemingly never ending stock of fancy clothes. 

The dress hugged your figure in all the right places, leaving very little to the imagination. Agent Galahad had never seen you in such a dress - your gigs were usually more business/formal - and you smiled an almost feline smile when you noticed his reaction. 

If this dress didn’t get him to let go of that annoying self-control of his, than you’d consider yourself beaten. 

He didn’t look so bad himself in his three piece suit, the waistcoat accentuating his lean waist and broad shoulders. 

God he was so sexy. It should be criminal to be this attractive. The man was practically oozing sex appeal, from is slick back hair to the point of his shiny shoes. 

“Ready, Y/N?” he said once he had recovered his voice. 

“As always, Galahad.” 

The smirk you sent his way had his blood boiling in his veins. 

The car pulled up to another one of London’s long list of fancy hotels. This one was a tall penthouse, with tall glass windows reaching all the way to the 10th floor. Roxy would hate this, you thought. Not made for anyone who hates heights. 

“You go in there and gather as much intel as we can, get it?” came a suspicious Scottish voice at the other end of your mic. “No funny business, Y/N. Stick to the rules.��

“That rather depends on the level of stupid in the room.” 

Harry chuckled behind you. He was endeavoring to stare at something else than the motion of your hips under your dress and those intoxicating legs of yours. 

So far, he was miserably failing. 

“Ye, well, just get me what I need to bust those idiots, and if you have to beat up one or two of them, don’t ruin the dress. Stick together, don’t go off on your own.” 

“Would be a true shame, that’s for sure.” 

“Shut up Eggsy.”

“You sure need to learn how to take a compliment baby.”

“Don’t call me “baby,” it makes me want to vomit. Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

“I am working. Looking forward to entertainment provided by yours truly.”

Sighing dramatically, Harry turned his glasses’ feed on, recording the room, people and looking at a 3D plan of the whole building through the lenses. 

You were already in movement, in conversation with one of your targets. The tall American was evidently used to getting his own way with women and was an absolute nitwit. He babbled on and on about his business, how he got hold of the weapons he resold to the mafia for high prices, and how he didn’t care about the countless lives lost in the process. 

Disgust welled inside you but you held your own, watching as Harry successfully seduced another unsuspecting victim. His target was a middle-aged woman, the wife of one of the upstart weapon sellers in the room. Said weapon seller was probably busy in his suite with another woman, so you couldn’t begrudge her interest in such a fine specimen. 

But he was yours first and hers second if you had any say in it. 

Ignoring Merlin’s orders, you abandoned your target here and there, making headway for the staircase, planning to do some snooping around. Merlin had specified not to get in any risky business, but snooping and danger went hand in hand. 

You interrupted what looked like an intense threesome as you hijacked the first door. They didn’t even notice. 

The third door you unlocked looked to be more promising. It was a large room, city view, jacuzzi and all. 

“Where the fuck are you, Y/N? We’re supposed to stay together!” came Galahad’s angry voice in your mic. 

“None of these players stick by the rules, Galahad. “You gotta play their game if you want to find something truly useful. Like this.”

You let your glasses record the document you held, before taking off the gloves you’d put on and placing it back in the briefcase you’d found it in. You took off your glasses and put them in your handbag. Galahad and you had decided only one of you would wear theirs full time, so as not to arouse suspicions. 

You heard the door unlock and ducked behind the bathroom door, gun already drawn, heart beating. 

“It’s me.”

“Jesus Christ, you scared the devil out of me!” you hissed, trying to shake off the rush of adrenaline. 

“Yeah, well, if you’d stayed with me or even just told me where you were going…”

“Oh, shut up, rules don’t apply in honeypots. Got anything from that lovely lady? She certainly seemed interested.” 

Galahad stared you down. Hard. Then he removed his glasses.

(fun under the cut)

“And here I was thinking that old fashioned honeypots still had a future” was the only thing you could think of saying.

His eyes had darkened, his jaw was set. You felt the weight of his stare over your skin. He backed you up against the bed, your calves brushing against the soft sheets. 

“Why won’t you stick by the rules?”

Oh, he wanted to play? Fine.

Putting on your best sultry gaze, you took a step towards him, grateful for your heels as they boosted your height to match his.

“Because rules are boring. And, sometimes, you’ve got to break them.”

“You’re always angry at something.”

“That’s what brats do. We’re angry and we show it.” You edged even closer, your breath tingling his skin. Your voice wasn’t above a whisper when you said, lips ghosting over the older agent’s jaw:

“Too bad life made us that way.” 

Galahad smiled, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. You were defiant, holding your small frame against his. He could feel your chest brush up against his. 

“Well, shall I show you what happens to brats who don’t stick by the rules?”

Your eyes widened. His hands snuck up on your waist, his fingers unzipping the back of your dress as his hands travelled up your back to grab your shoulders. 

He pulled you to him roughly, crashing his lips on yours as a groan escaped him. He felt your hips pressing against his, undulating against the hardened, sensitive part of himself. Your hands held onto his shoulders, ripping his suit jacket off his strong frame. 

You removed his tie next, just as he threw you on top of the bed, parting your legs to move in-between them. He thrust up against you, holding against your heated core for a few seconds. 

He pulled on your hair sharply, drawing a cry of pleasure and pain. You felt his tongue trace the outline of your throat, before he bit down hard on your pulse. 

I’m going to have to cover up that up. 

Galahad kept sucking bruising marks over your neck and chest, hiking your dress up above your waist before diving in between your legs. He didn’t waste time preparing you, sucking and licking up your core before attacking your nub. A sharp cry escaped you, a tug of pleasure ripping across your thighs. He held your hips down as you desperately tried to get closer to him. 

Galahad’s hands enclosed yours overtop of the bedsheets, gripping and pulling at your forearms to anchor himself against you as you shook against him, so close to release you could feel terrible waves of heat coursing through your core. 

Deciding you’d had enough of his torturing you, you pulled him up, forcing him to abandon his very enjoyable task. 

You weren’t about to relinquish control that easily. 

Twisting your legs around him, trapping his body underneath yours, you pressed down hard against his stomach. Biting your lips, you ripped button after button, throwing his waistcoat to the side. As soon as you felt his hands frantically reach for your hips, you dove in, leaving long, hot kisses on his chest. 

He rocked his hips against yours, locking his eyes with yours. God, you were going to orgasm now if he kept that rhythm going. 

He felt your legs squeeze up on him, as your head rolled backwards, the first moans escaping your lips. He surged upwards, meeting you thrust for thrust. He had to let you come first, but he knew he couldn’t hold out for long. Not with the way your heated core felt against his skin. 

“Fuck, Harry…”

Hearing you use his real name sent a jolt of pleasure through his groins. Fused at the core, both your centers felt on fire, feeding off each other in a dance as old as mankind. 

One hand found your breast, playing with your nipple. The other pressed against your throat, caressing your neck as he felt you pick up the pace. He knew you only needed the littlest push before he could enjoy his own release. 

Harry slid his hand down your torso, all the way down to where your bodies were joined. He applied pressure on your nub through the folds of your dress.

Your hands came crashing down on his chest as you bore your entire weight down on him, an exultant shout echoing through the room as your let your orgasm claim you. You rode the waves of pleasure, aware of Harry’s hands digging into your waist as he panted out his need. 

Smirking, you helped him along, drawing patterns against his fevered skin and, at long last, you felt him release inside you. 

His breath came ragged, chest heaving and eyes tightly shut, he was truly a vision.

You had to admit, you were proud of yourself for bringing such a man to such an undoing. You’d wondered what an unhinged Harry Hart would look like and now you had your answer. 

Leaning in, your arms resting on either side of his head, you resumed kissing him, stealing whatever was left of his breath. 

You could feel the last tremors of his pleasure on his lips. 

“What did you want to show me?” you murmured in his ear. 

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