#harry hart x fem!oc

[muiitoloko]

Hiya!! can i please have some sfw/nsfw of harry heart x gem reader?

Author's Notes: I wrote this at 2am, sorry for any misspellings or the nonsensical story, but I'm just too lazy to proofread. But thank you very much for the order. ( I used mine now almost oc: Bedivere, in the story )

Title: Relaxation

Summary: With his new role as leader of Kingsman, Harry feels like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, Bedivere then helps him relax.

Pairing: Harry Hart ( Kingsman) × Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+

In Harry's private office at Kingsman Manor, the tension in the air is palpable. As he sifts through stacks of papers, his shoulders are tense from the weight of his responsibilities. The atmosphere is heavy with the weight of duties and expectations.

A soft knock on the door breaks his concentration, and he looks up wearily, his eyes meeting your gaze as you enter. Your smile is like a ray of light in the dark room, but even that can't erase the weariness on Harry's face.

You approach him with gentle concern, your eyes full of empathy. "Is everything okay, Harry?" you ask, your voice soft and soothing. You reach out and take his hand, bringing it to your lips for a tender kiss.

Harry sighs, his exhaustion evident in his voice. "I'm drowning in paperwork," he admits, his fingers stroking yours. "It feels like the weight of the world is on my shoulders."

As you lean back against the desk, an amused spark lights up your eyes. You know how to lighten his burdens. "Is there something I can do to help you relax, my love?" you tease.

As Harry's lips curved into a knowing smile, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you. "And what does my naughty little girl have in mind?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

Without hesitation, you leaned forward, your fingers gripping the arms of Harry's chair. You lowered your voice to a soft whisper, your words tinged with desire. "Harry, are you going to let me please you?" you asked, your eyes locked on his.

Harry's hand lovingly cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. His response was a mixture of affection and longing. "You know I can never deny you, my dear," he confessed, his voice husky.

Your smile deepened as you knelt between his legs. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as you deftly unbuttoned Harry's fly, revealing his semi-stiffened length.

You took him in your hand, giving him a few good strokes. "You've been working so hard, Harry. Let me show you how much I appreciate your dedication." With a mixture of adoration and eagerness, you took him into your mouth, beginning to explore the intimate connection you shared in the sanctuary of his private office.

Harry couldn't help but moan softly as your warm lips enveloped him, sending a wave of pleasure through his body. Your fingers tangled in Bedivere's hair, guiding your movements as you expertly pleasured him. The sensation of your mouth moving along his length was almost overwhelming, and he couldn't deny the desire pulsing inside him.

He held back, refusing to give in to the mounting pressure, his desire to savor every moment with you evident in the way he stroked your head and murmured praise. "That's it, my dear... You are so talented," he whispered, his husky voice mixing encouragement and desire.

But Harry's need for you went beyond what you could offer at that moment. He gently pulled you away, the vision of you kneeling before him still etched in his mind. Determination shone in your eyes as he swept the items off his desk, not caring about the mess he was making. He needed you, and he needed you now.

In one deft movement, he lifted you onto the cleared table, his hands moving to help you out of your clothes. The anticipation in the room was electric as you shared a passionate look, both of you knowing what was about to happen. Your connection was intimate and raw, a reflection of the deep love and desire you felt for each other.

Harry's hands roamed over your skin, his touch igniting sparks of pleasure as he explored every inch of your body. The moment he entered you, your breaths hitched in unison, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The sensations were overwhelming, a mixture of lust, love, and a deep need for each other.

The air seemed to hum with an electric charge, a tangible blend of desire and connection. As their bodies moved together, Harry's breath caught in response to the intoxicating sensations coursing through him. His deep, husky voice whispered compliments in Bedivere's ear, his words a testament to the intensity of his passion.

"Bedivere, you're so tight," Harry murmured, his lips brushing against your skin. His movements were a rhythmic dance of desire and need, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. The room appeared to shrink around you, focusing solely on the intimate connection you shared.

You held him tightly, your moans muffled against his shoulder as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure consuming you. Your body trembled under his touch, the sweet ache of desire resonating in every nerve ending. The sound of your breaths mingling, the wet warmth of your connection—it was a symphony playing just for you.

With skillful touch, Harry's fingers found your clit, caressing you in a symphony of ecstasy that pushed you even further over the edge. Your moans grew more urgent, a chorus of need filling the room. As his thumb worked its magic, your body tensed and shuddered, a potent climax washing over you in waves of pleasure.

However, it was your next words that propelled Harry beyond the point of return. Your sensual voice, infused with need and desire, beckoned him in the most forbidden of ways. "Daddy, fill me," you whispered, the words a plea that shattered the last of his restraint.

Harry's control shattered, a wave of ecstasy coursing through him as he found release within you. Your body tensed, every muscle contracting as he held you tightly against him. The room seemed to blur around you, the world fading away as you both surrendered to the all-encompassing pleasure of your union.

Your ragged breaths echoed in the aftermath, the air heavy with the scent of your shared desire. Harry held you close, your bodies intertwined as you rode the waves of his climax. In that fleeting moment, your connection transcended the physical—a profound testament to the depths of his love and desire.

[muse-oleum]

The Flower Shop, part 3

Kingsman - Harry Hart x Fem!OC

Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; 

Hey folks! Here’s the third installment of my series. I hope you enjoy it! We’re getting into it, finally. Also, I’ve just added another prompt list that you can find here, go give me some inspiration!

Word count: 1.7k 

Warnings: none 

The camelias shivered in the evening wind. By their place on the windowsill, they overlooked the entire room, with its large bed, desk and the man sitting there. 

Harry’s books and notebooks had all been lost when his house was bombed to the ground, so he’d had to start again. Over the course of the past few weeks, he had purchased several anthologies and was still looking for new publications on the subject of entomology. 

He missed his old notebooks, relying entirely on the scribbled pages of the battered pad he’d used during his time away. 

Harry rarely referred to his time as an amnesiac entomologist as anything else except his “time away.” He was still grappling with the strange sensation of having recovered his life but he wasn’t so sure now, after so many months wishing for freedom to go find his butterflies, which life he wanted to lead. 

Kingsman had been his home for decades, ever since he’d left the army to become a secret agent. But before that? He’d been so invested in becoming an entomologist that it almost surrounded him in a shroud of wing dust for the rest of his career. His home was full of them; his head was full of them; and his heart was full of them. 

None of his friends had ever understood his passion for the small insects. To be honest, Harry himself did not understand it fully.

His father had been very fond of gardening, and his mother never allowed him to squash any insects he found in his room. Even if it was the biggest spider in the world - at least to the eyes of a little boy - she would just pick it up in a tissue and let it free outside. He had always supposed his interest came from them. But now, looking back on how he had cleaved to his ephemeral friends, he wondered if the root for his interest did not run deeper. 

Perhaps he was fascinated by their transience? The manner in which their sense of purpose carried them to their death? He envied that. The whole of the animal kingdom, except humans, seemed to have a purpose. Harry had lost his and didn’t know how to regain it. 

Sighing, he turned off the nightstand lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Before falling asleep, he remembered his promise to Rebecca to come fix her garden shed. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. At least, he had that to look forward to tomorrow. 

Monday ----, 9 a.m

The chime of the doorbell accompanied Harry’s entrance into the flower shop. At the end of a cold February month, the sight of so many blooms was a welcome start to his day. 

“You’re an early riser!” 

Rebecca stood at her cluttered counter, snipping twigs off small branches. Harry watched, strangely fascinated, as she arranged them in an elegant bouquet. She seemed to know just where to place them. 

“It’s for a wedding,” she said, matter of factly. “Apparently, the bride is fond of forest weddings and decided to go for a woodland theme.”

“A forest wedding in February? Good luck to them.”

Her singsong laugh echoed through the shop. 

“Yes, the groom seemed rather resigned, poor chap. Let me just finish with this one and then we can go look at the shed.” 

Harry followed, calling after her, “I didn’t bring any tools, I hope you’ve got something I can work with?”

Rebecca popped her head out of the shed. “Come and have a look for yourself. It’s in quite a state, but it still stands. My dad was strangely proud of that.” 

Harry fit his broad-shouldered frame inside the small shed as best he could without towering above her. Rebecca caught his eye as he attempted to squeeze himself in, chuckling slightly.

The shed was small, built out of wood that had begun rotting many years ago. Daylight filtered through cracks along the walls and dust shimmered in the air. In the corner, a box of tools, its bright red colour contrasting strangely with its surroundings, was waiting patiently for its next use. Rebecca had arranged a large pile of fresh wood and wooden panels next to it, probably to restore the cracked walls. 

“It’s dismal, I know, but the roof is still in a really good state so i’d hate it to collapse entirely.” 

Harry gently pushed against the walls. The wood cracked and moaned but it held. The problem was the rot, which had weakened the overall structure. 

“I’m afraid if you want it to stand for any number of years, we have to tear it down completely first. The wood is rotting. Best to rebuild entirely.” 

Rebecca nodded, biting her lips nervously. 

“I don’t want to ask you to do that, I thought it just needed a few repairs. But tearing it down and rebuilding it is a job for my brother; he loves to demolish things to rebuild them.” 

A small part of Harry’s heart - which he refused to acknowledge - rebelled at the idea. 

“Nonsense, I said I’d help and I will. We will just need a lot more wood than that.”

Wednesday, some weeks later ----, 6 pm

Dropping by Rebecca’s shop had become part of Harry’s routine. Nearly everyday after work, he’d go in, buy a few flowers and go. Every weekend, he’d drop by and work on the shed. He was grateful for the distraction it provided and, slowly, began to acknowledge that Rebecca had wormed her way into his heart. 

Harry Hart had never dared to think too much about love. The Kingsman code was explicit: no attachments, no weaknesses. Eggsy and, on occasion, Merlin, had expressed how incredibly stupid and bigoted the Gentleman Guide was but the former Arthur had been uncompromising. 

Kingsman was slowly adapting and changing, especially after Poppy’s missile catastrophe. A new Arthur had yet to be found but under the capable supervision of the older agents, amongst which Harry and Merlin, the newer recruits were coming into their own. Kingsman was still not operating at full capacity, what with the HQ and the London shop in ruins, but it was getting there. 

Exhausted, Harry shook out his umbrella outside the shop before coming in, tucking it neatly in a corner. It had been a long day: recruits to assess, Merlin to check on (he was adjusting to his wheelchair but threw a few dignified Scottish tantrums along the way) and paperwork to work through. 

The smell of freshly cut flowers greeted him and, immediately, he felt better. March had brought an early spring and the blooms were peeking shyly from under their green little sprouts. 

Harry heard a commotion in the back room and, nerves on alert, made his way slowly towards the garden. Carefully popping his head in, he saw Rebecca, on the ground, looking under the sofa and murmuring soft words of encouragement. Eventually, a small kitten emerged, sniffing her fingers curiously. He meowed a few times, noticing Harry by the door, and meowed even louder, asking for food. 

“I believe this little lad is hungry.” 

Rebecca gasped, nearly bumping her head on the sofa. 

“Harry! You scared the living daylights out of me!” 

He held his hands up, taking one step in, chuckling slightly. 

“My apologies. You looked terribly busy.” 

The shabby little cat, meanwhile, completely disinterested in the antics of those two humans, had made his way towards the kitchen, no doubt drawn to the smell of soup hanging in the air. One or two loud meows later, a large bowl full of ham and leftover meat had been placed for him by the table and he happily forgot all about everything else. 

“I found him in the street this afternoon. It was cold and he was shivering and crying, so I brought him in. He wasn’t a fan of being carried somewhere new and he hid under that couch for a solid hour before you came in.” 

“Well, he’s one lucky cat.” 

Rebecca laughed softly and shook her head, her long curls bouncing around her forehead. Harry resisted the urge to tuck one behind her ear. Tying an apron around her waist, she made her way towards the stove to check on the soup. 

Harry observed her, sleeves rolled up to reveal creamy skin, feet tapping lightly to no rhythm in particular, curls pinned up by a clip, out of the way. He felt his heart give a little tug and, unable to stop himself, took a few steps towards her. 

She didn’t seem to notice, absorbed in diagnosing what exactly was missing from the soup. The warm smell of tomatoes made Harry’s mouth water. He could tell what was missing from that distance. 

“Have you added basil?”

She looked up at him, noticing his closeness, and a pretty blush spread over her cheeks. She tasted one more spoonful before smiling broadly, dashing out of the door and back again. She came back with a shriek, shaking the droplets out of her hair. Harry couldn’t contain his smile. 

Suddenly, as she was taking off her boots, a sparkling flash of blue caught Harry’s eye. Looking more closely, he froze. There were two blue butterflies, Adonis blues, flying around her head. One settled into the mass of pinned curls, the other kept looking for a perch. 

Harry’s heart soared. how he had missed his butterflies! Their gentle movements mesmerized him and, unconsciously, he took a step forward. He didn’t notice the curious look Rebecca shot him when he reached up to touch one of the butterflies. She didn’t stop him, didn’t move, as if she knew something was happening that she couldn’t see. 

Harry felt the flutter of the butterfly’s wings on his fingers and smiled. Rebecca had never seen him smile like that before. He had never smiled happily, always offered small, sad, smiles. She wondered what it was that made him so happy tonight. 

The moment ended when their eyes met, Harry blushing furiously and taking a step back; Rebecca reaching up to touch her hair, her blush deeper than before. 

“I’m sorry, I-”

“I’ve never seen you smile like that.” 

Her tone was curious, not displeased. Harry couldn’t help but answer honestly: 

“There were butterflies around your head. Blue ones. I’ve always loved blue butterflies.” 

Rebecca frowned slightly. Butterflies? In this season? Surely that was impossible, and she would have seen them. Harry lowered his eyes to the ground, realizing how utterly mad that must have sounded. He was ready to take his leave when she said: 

“I love blue butterflies too.” 

Taglist: @justawriterinprogress; @tonystrksslut; @emilyyblackkk; the-sea-belt; @flybi91

Comment below if you want to be added to my HH taglist!

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

📖Masterlist📖

                              Here, you can find all the imagines I wrote.

💌 = Request

🎁 = Gift

🔎Sherlock (BBC)

Save your tears... (Mycroft X Male!Reader) 🎁

🩸Hannibal (NBC)

I don’t want to wake up from you (Will X Fem!Reader) 💌

Maneater (Hannibal X Male!Reader) (TW: Mentions of smut and violence) 🎁

An hurricane in my kitchen (Will X Fem!Reader) 💌

Papa, don’t preach... (Hannibal & Fem!Reader X Will Graham) 💌

🐺Teen Wolf

Beware the alpha! (Derek Hale X Male!Reader) 💌

🦸‍♂️MCU (Avengers, X-Men, GOTG, Fantastic Four, Agents of SHIELD, Agent Carter...)

You’re my sunshine (Helmut Zemo & Male!Reader) 🎁

🔦Criminal Minds

I’ll be brave for you... (Spencer Reid X Fem!Reader) ���

🦸‍♀️DCEU (Justice League, BVS, Suicide Squad, Birds of Prey, Titans, The Flash, Arrow...)

Play me me like a violin (Bruce Wayne X Male!Reader) (TW: Smut) 💌

Sweet but psycho (Roman Sionis X Male!Reader) (TW: Violence) 🎁

Sending my love to you... (Roman Sionis X Fem!Reader) (TW: Smut) 💌

Miss Independent... (Victor Zsasz X Fem!Reader) 🎁

The only one I need (Roman Sionis X Fem!Reader) 💌

War of the fathers, peace of the sons (Zsasmask and Male!OC & Maxwell Lord and Male!OC) 🎁

Who’s laughing now? (Joker VS Fem!Reader & Harley Quinn) (TW: Swearing & Violence) 🎁

Primal fears... (Zsaszmask and Male!OC & Maxwell Lord and Male!OC) 🎁

💥Inglourious Basterds

Innocents don’t shed blood (Donny X Fem!Reader) 💌

Speaking her language (Wilhelm Wicki X Fem!Reader) 💌

Severed blood ties (Hans Landa & Male!Reader) 🎁

We’re in heaven (Hugo Stiglitz X Fem!Reader) 💌

The Apache and The Comedian (Aldo Raine X Male!Reader) 💌

Let her be mine and mine alone... (Hans Landa & Fem!Reader x Omar Ulmer) 💌

Amour à la française (Aldo Raine X Fem!Reader!) 💌

There’s no mountain high enough... (Wilhelm Wicki X Fem!Reader & Child!OC) 🎁

You better run... (FemaleOC! & The Basterds) 🎁🎃

Run to you... (Donny Donowitz X Fem!Reader) 💌

Birthday Girl (Aldo Raine X Fem!Reader) 💌🎁

All against odds (Wilhelm Wicki X Male!Reader) 🎁

🗼Pacific Rim/Kong: Skull Island/Godzilla

Written in the stars (Nate Lambert X Fem!Reader) 🎁

😈Lucifer

An unholy seduction (Lucifer X Male!Reader) 💌

My mama is the best man in the universe (Lucifer and Male!Spirit!OC) (Father-son relationship) 💌

😇Good Omens

My boyfriend is back (Crowley X Demon!Fem!Reader) 💌

🤵Kingsman: The Secret Service

Too old for her? (Harry Hart X Fem!Reader) 🎁

🔮Harry Potter

Love is like a tornado (Remus Lupin X Fem!Reader) 💌

It’s just the price I pay (Hermione Granger X Male!Reader) 🎁

Falling (in love)... (Remus Lupin X Fem!Reader) 💌

🔥The Witcher

The deepest soul (Geralt X Mermaid!Fem!Reader) 💌

Music is my way to say I love you (Jaskier X Fem!Reader) (AU) 💌

Put your wings on me (Jaskier X Fae!Fem!Reader) 💌

Love song... (Jaskier X Bard!Fem!Reader) 💌

I will find you (Jaskier X Fem!Reader) 💌

💣James Bond Movies

Velvet Tango (James Bond X Fem!Reader) 💌

You targeted my heart (James Bond X Fem!Reader) 💌

Sugar Boy... (James Bond X Male!Reader) 💌

Don’t worry child... (Gareth Mallory & Male!OC) 🎁

In my arms... (James Bond X Male!Reader) (TW: Smut) 💌

Like a porcelain doll... (Ernst Stavro Blofeld & Fem!OC) 🎁

Unconditionally... (Gareth Mallory X Fem!Reader) 🎁

Come what may (Gareth Mallory X Male!OC) 🎁

No more secrets (00Q X Male!OC) 💌

I care for you (Gareth Mallory X Fem!Reader) 💌

🏹Shadowhunters

🪔Merlin (BBC)

For my king (Arthur X Fem!Reader) 🎁

Under your spell (Merlin X Fem!Reader) 💌

🎭Prodigal Son

Mystery Girl (Malcolm Bright X Fem!Reader) 🎁

🤴The Crown

I’d put a crown at your feet... (Philip X Male!Reader) (Part I) 💌

All Hail to my king (Philip X Male!Reader) (Part 2) 💌

Give us a chance (Charles X Male!OC) 💌

A royal affair (Margaret X Male!OC) 🎁

🦇Gotham

The art of seduction (Oswald Cobblepot X Fem!Reader) 💌

🧙‍♂️The Lord of The Rings/The Hobbit

The King’s precious gem (Thranduil X Male!Reader) 💌

💀Pirates of the Caribbean

Something fishy... (Jack Sparrow X Fem!Reader) 💌

As wild as the sea... (James Norrington X Fem!Reader) 🎁

⭐Star Wars (Episode I to IX, The Mandalorian...)

Silent words, loud gestures... (Din Djarin X Fem!Reader) 💌

⚽Football (France NT, different players...)

The player & the writer (Antoine Griezmann X Male!Reader) 💌

My only one (Lucas Paquetá X Fem!Reader) 💌

🔣Other fandoms/universes/suggestions....

Sundays mornings (French Politics) 🎁

If you are interested and you wanted a tailored story, please read the rules before requesting!

[muse-oleum]

Fucknemies part II

Long time no see! This is part two of my series Fucknemies, following Harry Hart and Agent Kay (haven’t named her; don’t think i will at this stage). 

You can find part I here. 

Enjoy! 

Summary: Agent Kay wakes up after being shot. Harry and her have a heart to Hart. 

Word count: 1.2 k

Warnings: none 

Kay woke up with the disagreeable sensation of having drunk too much. The feeling was so unnatural that she laid there for a few minutes, wondering why she had broken her lifelong promise to never drink. 

“Who’s the moron who got me drunk last night?” she moaned pitifully, the pain in her body becoming more of a background lull as she heard someone fidget with something by the side of her bed. 

“No one mate, you did this all by yourself.” 

A brief silence.

“Eggsy?”

“Yeah. Welcome back to the world bruv. Happy you’re not dead.” 

“Why would I be dead?”

“Cuz you took a bullet, you moron. In the thigh. Brushed the artery and it wasn’t pretty. Ya should have heard Harry swear.” 

“Well, fuck.”

“You don’t say. How are you feeling?”

“Like a train hit me and then decided once wasn’t enough.”

“Rox said the same when she was shot. Said it felt like a really, really bad hangover except you didn’t even have the blessings of oblivion.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Kay cleared her throat. Immediately, someone had a glass of water ready. She hadn’t noticed the shadow on her right. Opening her eyes slightly and wincing against the brightness of the room, she could just about make out who it was. 

“Harry?” 

Eggsy shot him a questioning look. He’d never heard Kay call Harry by his name. She’d always made a point of using his code name, always with the same slightly sarcastic tone which infuriated him. Now she was almost… shy? Unsure?

“You need to rest. We just came in to see if you were stable.”

That was a lie and they all knew it. 

“And the monitors couldn’t tell you that?” 

“Couldn’t stop him, bruv.”

There was another silence. Eggsy stood up, clearing his throat. 

“I promised Merlin I’d pop by. He’s got a new contraption to test and I pissed him off.”

“Thought I did that.”

“Yeah well you’d already paid enough for that, I reckon.”

Kay heard the infirmary door close softly. Harry shifted in his sit, toying with the end of his tie as he took in Kay’s pale face. her features were tight, no doubt controlling the pain. He’d upped the morphine as much as he dared and was frustrated he couldn’t do anything else for her. 

So he said the only thing he felt was appropriate at this moment.

“I’m sorry.”

At that, Kay opened her eyes fully, trying to focus on him. He could see her wince and then force her eyes open to stare at him. 

“Whatever do you have to be sorry for? I wasn’t careful enough, and you know that.” 

“I should have been there. We should never have split up, it was too dangerous.” 

Kay breathed out, reminding herself that this wasn’t Galahad patronizing her or taking too much upon his own shoulders, but her partner feeling guilty that he wasn’t by her side at the right moment. 

“Wasn’t your fault, Harry. It was a risky move and the com with Merlin cut off at the worst moment possible. I also should have checked that I wasn’t being followed, but I didn’t do it.”

“If it wasn’t my fault, it certainly wasn’t yours.”

“I was reckless -”

“No, you were determined. And brave.”

“And reckless.”

Kay felt more than she saw the slight smile form on his lips. 

“Alright, and maybe a little bit reckless. But that’s why you’re better at that sort of mission than me.”

“You over analyse everything.”

“I don’t” he said, on the defensive again, before understanding her meaning. “Maybe I do. I’ve just never seen it as a problem before.”

“It can be.”

Kay let the double-entendre hang in the air. She hoped he would understand what she was trying to tell him. She didn’t have the energy to try harder. 

Harry held his breath. He remembered what Merlin had told him after he’d brought Kay in: you’re mad about her, she’s mad about you, so you fight because none of you can see how much you mean to each other. 

Did he mean something to her? And what did she mean to him? 

She was willful, strong, reckless and beautiful. He was calculated, poised and calm. Or at least he liked to think he was. She probably didn’t perceive him as such. She’d called him cold on many occasions; told him he needed to understand where she came from and why she made her way through life as she did. She’d told him it was because she knew that each moment of freedom was precious. She was tired of being careful. Tired of tiptoeing around other people. 

He was the opposite. Tiptoeing was his speciality. He was careful around others, had trouble understanding them sometimes. At least outside of his work, where understanding could mean either life or death. But he felt that calm was necessary to him and caution something not to be taken lightly. Death left too many behind, and he couldn’t help but be afraid of how reckless she could be. 

During her moments of lucidity and reflection, Kay had come to grips with the differences existing between them. She knew it would take work, but what in this life didn’t? What was worth it always did. 

He meant something to her. He meant a great deal. But she didn’t know what she meant to him. 

“I know.” 

She looked at him, surprised. He leaned in closer. Hesitantly, he took one of her hands in his, holding it gently. 

“I don’t mean to sound snobbish. It’s just my way of protecting myself.” 

“Why?”

“This… this job, this life … you can lose so much if you care too much. I appear distant because I prefer to keep my feelings at bay.”

“That can’t be healthy.”

Harry chuckled, squeezing her hand.

“It’s not.” 

She focused on the feel of his fingers caressing her bruised knuckles. He palmed one bruise gently, as if to test if it hurt. When she didn’t wince, he resumed his caresses. 

“But it’s easier for you?”

Her question surprised him. He hadn’t expected her to understand so quickly. 

“Yes.”  

“But is that appearance of calm and detachment what’s easier, or is it simply not feeling? Or not allowing yourself to feel?”

He knew a lot depended on his answer. If he was honest with himself, he knew he wanted more. He wanted more out of life than his work. For nearly thirty years now he’d been so consumed by it; so afraid to care. He’d lost many friends. Lately, he’d lost Lancelot. That had been a blow. But he had never allowed himself to care more deeply for another agent. He’d never allowed himself to hope for love, not once. Until he met her. 

“I know I’m fooling myself, if that’s what you’re asking.” 

She laughed, a delightful sound after so much silence. 

“Yes, you are.” 

She was right and there was nothing he could say in his defense. 

“So where does that leave us, Harry?”

She brought his hands closer to her body, lacing her fingers with his own.

“I can’t promise to be less myself, just like you can’t simply let go of your fears. What do we do with that?”

He paused, contemplating. 

“We can try?”

She smiled in response. 

Stay tuned for part III!

Taglist: @justawriterinprogress; @tonystrksslut; @emilyyblackkk; the-sea-belt; @flybi91; @persephonehemingway​; 

[muse-oleum]

The Flower Shop, part 2.

After messages from lovely Tumblr friends on the first part of this series, I got cracking to finish up the second part. 

Kingsman - Harry Hart x Fem!OC 

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: none

Part 1;

song I listened to writing this

Harry missed his butterflies. 

They’d been his only source of companionship during all these months spent in a cell, drawing them away as his memory kept hiding from him. 

He’d first started to see them a couple days after waking up. Ginger had brought him some sketchbooks, at his request, and she’d stayed to have a quick chat. But she was a secret agent; he couldn’t expect her to stay forever. 

The butterflies that had been fluttering about her head stayed on even after she left. He’d been fascinated by the shimmer on their wings, covered in tiny colorful scales. 

That’s when he’d started to draw them. 

He’d kept on doing so even after recovering his memories. Now, instead of pinned butterflies, the walls of his suite were covered in drawings. Hundreds of them. And he liked them all, even if they reminded him of a painful time.

Harry didn’t think he could have felt more alone than he had during those months, but he did. At least, back then, he was alone, but he fitted in. He felt alive in his strange fluttering world full of his winged friends.

Now, he didn’t see them anymore.

The rather abrupt stop of the cab shook him out of his reverie. 

He’d asked the driver to stop by the small flower shop he’d stopped by in the morning. He had left work early enough to get there before 6, hoping to catch a glimpse of the kind woman who had made his morning feel a little better. 

Harry looked at his watch as he stepped onto the pavement. 5.45 pm. Perfect. 

He hesitated at the door, before pulling it open. 

It was if he’d stepped into an evergreen wonderland. 

Flowers seemed to grow out of the walls and between the tiles on the floor. Plants covered wooden shelves running across the entire wall on his right; and the left wall was buried underneath heaps of hanging flower pots. The mix of all these different scents should have been overpowering, but instead was strangely calming. The large wooden table occupied much of the interior, although Harry would have struggled to tell what kind of wood, since it was littered with more flowers than he’d seen in his life. 

The song of the doorbell alerted the shopkeeper, and she made her way towards him, zigzagging between plant pots. Not a leaf trembled when she passed it, as if the air did not move around her but with her. 

“Made it, then?” she said. “That was a long day for a Sunday.” 

Harry smiled. His shyness around women was, according to Merlin, legendary. Even if he’d had his fair share of flings in his youth, he had never been much of a casanova (contrary to Lancelot, who was usually the main orchestrator behind each of said flings.)

“We usually do quite a bit of work on Sundays, at the tailor shop.” 

“Oh, so that’s where you work? I’ve been trying to work that out all day.”

Curious, Harry followed her as she led him to the back of the shop. 

“Why?” 

If his question was abrupt, she did not appear to notice. Or, if she did, she made nothing of it. She shrugged, before answering:

“You don’t typically see such well-outfitted gentlemen around here. Mostly businessmen wearing the same suit in varying shades of “look at me, I’m rich.”” 

Harry chuckled, wondering if he should tell her that his suit alone probably cost more than any of those businessmen’s cars. But then again, that would mean explaining the whole mechanics behind bulletproof technology and even Merlin couldn’t do that in fifteen minutes. 

“Here! That’s where I keep the plants that aren’t on view yet. Now, how about you tell me what you’d like?” 

“Why none of these?” Harry asked, gesturing to the shop behind him.

“Well, you didn’t stop for any of these.”

She was smiling. That same lovely smile which had stopped him this morning. Her dimples were even more prominent in the dim evening light, lending her an air of mischief that he was sure was well deserved. 

Harry regained his train of thoughts, realizing he hadn’t answered her question. 

“I… I’m not sure? I’ve never been shopping for plants.” 

Just as he said it, he realized how utterly odd that was. For a butterfly man not to know his flowers? Ludicrous. He’d have to remedy that. 

He felt a thrill of excitement at the idea of an evening spent researching butterflies again. 

“Well, what are you looking for?” 

Unexpectedly, her question stirred something deep inside of him. 

Hadn’t he been asking himself the exact same question for months? Wasn’t it exactly the reason why he had decided to walk instead of getting a cab right away? 

Truth was, Harry didn’t know what it was that he was looking for. All he had originally wanted was a sense of belonging, a sense of home.

He figured flowers were company, and maybe they would attract his lost butterfly friends again. 

He met her eyes shyly, finding her looking up at him, an inviting look in her eyes. 

“It’s not a trick question.” 

Her voice was very soft, reassuring almost. Her smile had dimmed to a small, tender, expression. She broke eye contact just as he was about to speak, disappearing into the doorway.

“Come in!” came her voice from behind the wall. He could hear her move pots around and gravel rolling on the ground. “Or rather, come out, I should say.”

Harry poked his head through the doorway, squinting to find her in the darkness. A clock hanging by his head struck six, its chimes announcing the coming of evening and its chill. She didn’t seem to hear it. 

“You looked sad, this morning, so perhaps those would brighten your days somewhat?” 

She held the first camelias of the year, their soft shade of pink shimmering in the evening light. The whole backyard, covered in flowers, plants, and tools, seemed covered in dew, as if time had stood still and morning had never passed. 

She handed him his flowers, closing the door to a shed he hadn’t seen before. It looked like a mix between your regular backyard shed, and a broken down hothouse. There were holes ripped into its flank, but the flowers sheltered inside still seemed to thrive. 

Harry was sure she must have fairy hands. 

“There you go. They’ll be better at yours than here, I still haven’t found the time to repair my shed, as you can see.” 

She looked behind her, murmuring softly:

“I hope my plants won’t die before I can get to it.”

Harry did not wish to intrude further, conscious of the time and the chill. He got his wallet out of his coat pocket. She stared back at him, leveling her arched eyebrows at him. 

“I didn’t ask for any money.” 

Her tone brooked no arguments, and so, wisely, Harry did not argue. But he still wanted to offer some sort of payment. 

“How about I come fix your shed instead?” 

She looked at him, a hopeful glint in her eyes even as she shook her head in refusal. Harry raised his free hand, smiling at her divided expression.

“It’s that or money.”

She huffed, chuckling, before finally agreeing. 

Just as he turned to leave, she asked:

“I never got your name?”

He flushed, grateful for the dark. 

“Harry. Harry Hart.”

She smiled, her dimples making a fierce comeback. 

“I’m Rebecca.” 

Taglist: @justawriterinprogress; @tonystrksslut; @emilyyblackkk 

[muse-oleum]

Fucknemies (fuckbuddies but with angst)

Yes, I’m aware I have an appalling sense of humor. 

Kingsman - Harry Hart x fem!OC

Based on this lovely anon’s request: Hi! Can ya write Harry with a Kingsman agent, enemies to lovers?

Summary: the mission agents Kay and Galahad were on goes to hell, where they finally stop bickering and start appreciating what the other has to give (*cough cough*)

This is going to be two parts, because I got carried away, so stay tuned for the smut! I toned down the ‘enemies’ to more ‘frenemies’ but I hope it’s still what the nonnie wanted. 

Word count: 2k85

Warnings: violence, swearing, prostitution, heavy themes, mentions of human trafficking

Also, my inspiration for this was this song, it’s badass, sexy and fits the theme of the underworld agencies pretty well. 

Agent Kay landed at Kingsman in the most uncharacteristic manner. She was, first of all, the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy tradesman based here in England; and her mother was an upper-end prostitute. 

Now, that shut up all these snobbish Kingsman boys alright. They didn’t know where to look ever since she had dropped the “w bomb,” as Merlin liked to call it. Her attitude, that of one raised between Soho and the up-end, was so ambiguous that most men were terrified by her. 

Most didn’t include agent Galahad. But then again he was rarely terrified by anything. Kay suspected he didn’t know what fear was. 

Little did Kay know that Galahad, or Harry, as she refused to call him, thought the exact same of her. Such lovely pet names as “hothead,” “idiot” or the more colorful and incontestably heartfelt “fucking imbecile,” were some of Harry’s favorite ways of nicknaming his feisty partner. 

For some reason, Merlin and Arthur absolutely delighted putting these two together for dangerous missions. It was almost as if their constant fighting in-between near-death and near-misses were their Sunday evening football gig. 

They loved it; and Merlin really couldn’t wait for his two friends to get their heads out of their own arses, and end that intolerable sexual tension once and for all. It was hanging over every curtain and curled up in every teapot, sizzling and unmistakably there. 

On that particular evening, Kay and Galahad were on an undercover “recognition” mission - the word had been stoically stressed by Merlin, the painful hitch in his voice the only indication that he already knew that shit was about to go down. Bad. 

So, an undercover mission. At some oil titan’s mansion somewhere in Italy. About two hundred guests and three different pools in which to drown Galahad if he became too irritating. Perfect. 

As Kay was exploring various creative ways to make him shut up if needed, Harry was troubled. 

He was troubled by the fact that he had a hard time focusing on anything else than the way her shoulders shone in the light of the chandeliers, or how her breath caused her chest to rise up, or how the thigh-high split in that godforsaken dress caused his mind to blank. 

It was all really infuriating. She was infuriating. 

Hot-blooded, compassionate, high-strung but cool under pressure, stunning, with the mouth of a sailor. She was delightful and sinful, all at the same time. And the older agent simply didn’t know what to do with himself every time he was near her. 

No doubt she thought him arrogant, snobbish and probably too old-fashioned. 

Little did she know all he longed for was to do very un-old-fashioned things with her. 

So, everything he said came out wrong, and with her quick wit, she absolutely murdered him with every comeback. He wasn’t sure what made her so enticing, apart from all the above, but he knew that virtually everyone was either terrified or drooling after her. Or both. 

Most of the time, both. 

A movement on her left caught Kay’s eye. Galahad was beckoning to her. They were posing as a couple, a little hint amongst the billions Merlin had already worked very hard to give them. 

Eggsy said he never face palmed as much as when his two favorite agents were out in the field together. 

“Do you see him?” Galahad whispered, his eyes unfocused but trained on the far corner of the room. 

Kay followed his gaze, immediately spotting the armed goon, one arm under his vest, no doubt cradling a gun, scanning the room in a would-be subtle manner. 

“They know someone’s there.” 

“On a scale of one to ten, how fucked are we?” Kay asked, her tone all that was innocent. 

Harry shot her a look. Her neck was craned towards the bar, avoiding looking in the direction of the armed man, although he knew she was following his every movement. 

He couldn’t help but notice how the slope of her neck met with her right shoulder in a sensuous curve. Her breaths were coming more rapidly now, and, as ungentlemanly as it was, Harry simply could not take his eyes off of her. 

She caught him staring, arching her eyebrow, and he realized he hadn’t answered her question.

“If they find us out, a solid seven.”

She scoffed, “we got out of a nine before, seven’s a joke.” 

Harry glared at her. 

“Last time, the nine was because of all issues locked, here the seven is because we’re clearly outnumbered. We weren’t outnumbered last time. So let me rephrase that: it’s a nine and a bit and we’re fucked.”

It was her turn to glare, sending him a look that plainly stated that she didn’t see the need for making such a fuss. 

“So what’s the plan now?” Kay asked, eyes going around the room. 

Three more armed agents had shown up, but nobody else here seemed to have noticed them. Wearing dark suits and all-too visible earpieces, Kay wondered how people could be so unobserving. 

“Get the fuck out ‘s the plan,” came a strong Scottish voice, a little too strained for her liking. 

“But we’ve achieved nothing,” she whispered, angry that the mission would be fruitless. 

She knew that oil trader had another, much more unpleasant, and definitely illegal trading business. Involving humans. 

As the daughter of a prostitute, she knew too well what exploitation was like. Her mother had not coddled her, but had shown her the ugly truth of her world. She could not stand by as others suffered a similar, sometimes worse, fate. 

“I agree,” Galahad said, causing Kay to look up sharply, surprised to hear her oh so careful partner agreeing with her. “Kay’s right, there are lives at stake here that we can’t ignore.” 

Kay blinked once, properly stunned. 

It’s not that Harry was unfeeling - he was doing this job to save lives too, after all - but he was sometimes too cerebral and restrained for her liking. 

Although, weirdly, she had to admit she liked that too. They were complementary; one was always there to catch the other. Perhaps that was Merlin’s scheming all along? The annoying Scot had something of a knack for psychoanalysis. 

Galahad’s brow was set, lips pursued and eyes hard. The traits of a man hellbent on seeing at least part of this through. She noticed how handsome he was, and how his charisma came not from his appearance so much as his demeanor. 

“So what do we do?” she asked, a little breathless, “do we keep snooping around and pray to all the gods and goddesses above to make it out in one piece?” 

“Pretty much.”

“You know what, Harry, for once, I won’t call you an arrogant upper-class jerk.” 

Kay left him standing there, a small smile on her face. She could hear Merlin grumbling something about murdering the two of them once he got them back at HQ. 

Nobody really cared about Merlin’s grumbling, as a rule; it was his default communication method. 

“Kay, take the upper floor and search for a door locked with a code. I’ll hack it. Galahad, take the gallery, you two keep an eye out. They know you’re here.” 

“I’m the soul of discretion, Merlin.” 

Kay heard Harry guffaw through her earpiece, earning him a smirk. 

“Ye, I’ll believe you if you come back without a hole through your head. Get to it.”

Always the picture of optimism and positivity, Kay thought, amused. Oh, let’s see what you’re hiding there...

She’d come to a locked door requiring a code. Patiently, Kay waited for Merlin to send her the code through her glasses. She waited a few seconds, before asking:

“Merlin? I need the code now, not in three hundred years.” 

“Afraid you won’t get it, princess,” came a voice that was decidedly not Merlin’s. 

Kay whirled around, face to face with a rather grumpy looking armed guard and his equally grumpy companion. 

Shit. So much for discretion. 

Without leaving her much time to deliberate, he attacked, slashing her arm with a knife she hadn’t noticed. It was painful, but bearable. His friend looked on, a small smile pasted on his face. 

Don’t you worry, sweetheart, I’m going to wipe that smile off your face in no time. 

Her retaliation came swiftly. 

If people had been praising Black Widow on screen - and she had to admit Scarlet Jo had the moves down - she was a Black Widow. That man never knew how his neck broke, or indeed how her legs were suddenly wrapped around his throat at all. 

His friend had stopped smiling, a moderate improvement to his otherwise average features. He looked much better grumpy. 

Your turn, sweetie. 

Too bad Kay had failed to notice another armed agent - not her armed agent, unfortunately - because it really could have ended here and there if she had. 

Instead, she felt the bullet slice through her thigh even before she registered the sound of the trigger. It tore through muscle and lodged itself in the bone, causing her to scream out in pain. Blood was gushing out; all she could hope for now was that Harry was near and that the bullet had missed the artery. 

Somehow, she wasn’t too hopeful. 

“Nice little trick you got there. With those legs, it’s hardly surprising. Too bad I had to aim for them, eh?” 

That was the last thing he ever said. 

A disheveled, very angry and murderous looking Harry ended his life here and there, sparing him the pain he had inflicted on Kay only because his conscience told him so. 

A very flimsy, very tiny part of his conscience. 

“Too bad, indeed,” he said, before rushing to Kay’s side. 

Her vision was blurred and even though she tried to stem the blood flow, she knew the bullet had at least scraped the artery. 

“Merlin, what the fuck were you doing?” 

That caused her to chuckle slightly. Hearing Harry swear was one of the most entertaining things in her life. It was so out of place, so opposite his brushed-up, gentleman front. 

“Those bastards cut the connection!” came the angry voice of the Scotsman. “Get her out of here, I’ll send the car. It’ll be a bumpy ride, so you better hold on to her, and whatever you do, don’t let her lose consciousness ye hear me?” 

The car ride was one of Kay’s worst experiences ever. 

She wanted to throw up, almost did, refrained herself from emptying her stomach right on Harry’s impeccable waistcoat. The shivers arrived just before they reached HQ, where a literal battalion of nurses took over. 

Harry, covered in blood, made a move to go after her, when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. 

“Wasn’t your fault. They got us clean.”

He turned towards Merlin, jaw set. 

“She’ll be furious, she really wanted to take him and his human trafficking gang down.” 

“And someone else will, I promise. For now, ye need a drink, and a strong one. You also need to finally get it off your chest because I swear, if having her nearly die is what’s gonna take to make the two of you fucking focus again, I’ll do it again.”

Harry turned a disbelieving look towards his friend. With narrowed eyes, he took a step towards him. Merlin held up his hands.

“This one wasn’t my doing, but I hope it’s helped you realize how much of an idiot you’ve been. She’s a keeper, but you keep pushing her away with you high-almighty attitude. Stop being a goddamn idiot.” 

This time, Harry was quite simply speechless. 

“Ex-excuse me?”

Merlin ran a hand over his eyes, sighing deeply. 

“You’re mad about her, she’s mad about you, so you fight because none of you can see how much you mean to each other. Honestly, it’s exhausting. Get it over with.”

Merlin walked away, leaving his friend ruminating the reproaches over in his head. 

That he loved her, he had no doubt. The feeling of utter helplessness and fear that had gripped him when he heard her scream was sickening. 

Yes, she drove him mad. He wanted her desperately; wanted her to like him and want him, need him. Until tonight, when she had snuggled against him, whimpering in pain, he had not thought a woman like her would ever need anyone. 

And she had called him Harry. 

Perhaps Merlin was right and it was time he put the record straight. 

If you guys didn’t notice the subtle hint of Darcy/Elizabeth in there idk what to say to you. Stay tuned for part II!